Queen Chrysalis' Pony Girl School, for Little Girls

<--- --- --->

Prologue

<--- --- --->

.

I had just woken up, early in the morning; just as Rarity had suggested, the other day.

The room is dark, I can see exactly nothing. What had I been expecting; the light is low and I haven’t even opened my eyes, yet.

Furthermore, I can’t even lift up my hand, as I had been used to; expecting to move freely, as I had done before I had arrived at the hotel.

However; I had managed to slip a hand out from under the quilt, folding the quilt up against the wall. It isn’t my hand, being subject to the restrictions; it’s the quilt, refusing to move. I can still move relatively freely, aside from this effect.

I slip my feet (Erm, Hooves out from under the quilt), only to find myself sitting onto the side of the bed, my bed. Still dressed in the metallic bloody red pajamas from head to toe (Hoof), looking as if I had been painted with liquid Latex. My skin is as smooth, as the suit is dictating; what had I been expecting, as I am wearing the suit. I still am, as a matter of fact.

“Clip, clop” is heard, as I am pushing myself forwards, off of the bed; only to find myself standing on what now is my own two hooves.

“Pony Girl!” I gasp, in sudden realization. (They don’t intend to have me wearing hoof Boots and such {tacky} tack; but physically transform me into the Pony Girl, a semi Equine female)

“Good morning, Miss Ji-Ju!” Rarity exclaims, as she is entering the room.

“Good morning, Miss Rarity!” I respond, in greeting. (I have to follow the etiquette. Don’t I?)

“I guess: Rarity would be the obvious Chaperone, for me..” I ponder; “Not so much because I had asked for her; but because she is the one, ideal for this task!” I realize.

“Before we can do anything else..” she starts; “I need to see you out of your suit; in order for me to pick your ensemble, for the day!” she is informing me.

“Of course, I had to disrobe; (even if it is before my Chaperone, Rarity)..” I ponder; “You need to see me disrobe; or only to see me nude, before you hand-pick my ensemble?” I inquire.

“Technically; I don’t need to see you disrobing, but it would be a waste of time stepping out while you undress!” she is informing me.

“Oh..” I respond; “okay!” I conclude.

“I hope, you are not embarrassed by being seen as a Girl (by me)..” she suggests, snickering lightly; “We are all girls, here; just as we are Equine, under the skin too!” she concludes.

“Wait..” I exclaim; “we are?” I inquire.

“But, of course; silly Philly!” she puts forth; “This is after all a School for little Pony-Girls!” she concludes.

“I do have a distinct recollection, of reading this..” I ponder; before I opted to apply for this Class, even if I hadn’t realized, the Literal connotations implied!” I realize. (At least, the Subjects had looked promising; aside from the promise, of making a few new Friends, of course!)

I follow Rarity over to the wardrobe. I am watching her opening the doors, to my daytime wardrobe; only to be exposed to what she is intending, for me to wear. (While my pajamas may be red, metallic bloody red to be exact; but the daytime wears are very different, even if they had been crafted for me as a Pony-Girl, as she put it.)

<--- --- --->

"I really do have Hooves..” I realize, as I had slipped the stockings off. (..and a beautiful tail, too!)

“Red is signifying females!” Rarity informs me; before I had had the time, to even considering the colour of my hooves.

Looking into the mirror, I can clearly see the silicone white socks reaching up to what used to be my heels. (I just don’t know the proper word for the Equine counterpart.) Still, I guess. It does look cool, in my eyes. Is this common, among Ponies, or had Rarity made an Artistic choice? (Doesn’t make much of a difference to me; it looks cool, and that is the end of it {as if I had a choice, when these socks are on my legs already.. but still})

“It is fairly uncommon among Ponies, even if it isn’t unheard of; though it is said to be common among Horses of your region!” she explains; I could show you a few examples, later!” she suggests.

“Thank you, Rarity..” I respond; I would appreciate that, very much..” I continue; “as I am at school, I am here to learn!” I conclude; knowing I am spending time, I could have learned more.

“Let us begin..” she suggests; “I need you to dress up, for the day..” she continues; “so that I can guide you to the class!” she continues.

I just nod, eagerly looking at the wardrobe with growing anticipation. (While my form and stance may be unfamiliar, to me, I will grow used to it, soon enough)

“A pair of high-cut panties should be just right for you..” she suggests, as she is extracting the panties, presenting me with a pair of pristine silicone white panties.

I am eagerly accepting the proffered garment; “Thank you, Rarity!” I exclaim.

I step into the panties, right and left; before I am pulling them up, only to be exposed to the liquid elasticity. In the end, I am affording the panties a few tentative tugs: once, twice and thrice.

She is observing me, as I am slipping into my panties; extracting a matching top for me, just in time to present me with it as I let go of the panties.

“A bit tight?” I inquire; "Though I enjoy them, immensely..” I put forth; “looks, as if they had been painted on liquid latex?” I finally observe, even if I don’t quite know what liquid latex would be or how it would feel. (She does not seem to care, as she is only too happy to see me enjoying the proffered garment.)

“Of course, they are tight; skin-tight is the way to go, with underwear..” she explains; “you will come to get used to them, soon enough; then you will not be comfortable, wearing anything less!” she concludes.

She had extracted the matching top, for me; presenting me with the garment, for me to accept.

I am accepting the top, with a nod; only to reverently slip it down over my head, enjoying the liquid elasticity. I afford the top a few tentative tugs: once, twice and thrice.

“This top starts just under my breasts (I did not even know I had), supporting my bust perfectly..” I ponder; “I think I could get used to this!” I observe. (The top reaches all the way up under my chin, but not my arms!)

She had just extracted my (metallic bloody) red skirt, presenting me with an ultra-tight knee-long pencil skirt.

I eagerly step into the skirt, right and left; only to afford it a few tentative tugs: once, twice and thrice.

She had just extracted a glistering, glittery jet black vest, presenting it to me, just as I had finished slipping into the skirt. (Naturally, I could but accept; not because she is forcing me, but because I genuinely want to wear what she is presenting me with.)

I find myself growing more and more excited, with each and every garment she is presenting me with. I just can not help myself.

She is extracting a pair of full-length skin-tone gloves for me, presenting me with the garments. I am eagerly accepting the proffered gloves; slipping my hands in into them, only to enjoy the sensation(s) these gloves are presenting me with.

“You can always cup your breasts now, if you like..” she suggests; “in order to get a feel for them, so that you can familiarize yourself, before we go out in public!” she observes.

While I am busy, distracted with placing my hands under my breasts (A-cup orbs), she is extracting my halter (without a bit) for me. With my mouth agape, she is placing my halter onto my face.

As she is tightening the halter up, I find it comforting; even despite myself, and what I had been expecting.

“Could you tighten up my halter; a bit more, please?” I inquire.

“Oh, but of course, darling!” she merely responds, as she starts to tightening up my halter further.

Of course; all the other (Pony-)Girls also wear a matching black halter to class.

“The black halter, is for the first class!” she explains.

<--- --- --->

What I had not been expecting, what I could not have been prepared for; is how easy it is to fall into step with her, as she is moving out of the room. She is only stopping by the door, placing the palm of her hand on the plaque in order to open the door. Even if she had closed the door to my wardrobe, before she walked out of the room, with me in tow.

<--- --- --->

She is trotting along the hall, with me just one step behind.

A moment later, we are reaching the doors to the room. She is opening the door, stepping through with me in tow; only for the door to slide shut behind me, as I had cleared the threshold

I can clearly see a few girls standing anxiously in the room; just as I notice, the rest of the girls step into the room just a moment after me.

“They are all wearing the black first year halter..” I observe;”and they have red hooves, just like me!” I conclude.

“Of course, darling..” she responds; “they are all Pony-Girls, just like you, and they are the same class as you, too!” she explains.

<--- --- --->

(My) First Class

<--- --- --->

Pass: - "Faux Pas" Confirmed..