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                Possessed For the Occasion                 
                      -by SirSirloin-                      
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                Possessed For the Occasion                 
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Possessed For the Occasion
“Omigosh, omigosh, omigosh, they’re perfect!” Rainbow Dash said to nopony.
In her defence, the white, operatic gloves in the window of this strange little shop totally were perfect for what she had in mind: a costume of Filly Scout Mars for Nightmare Night.
Dash didn’t even mind that the cuffs of her new treasures were pink. If she couldn’t dye them in time for the day (she’d have to ask Rarity what they were even made of) then what the hell, pink was a kinda red, one of her best friends was literally all pink, and it was Filly Scout Moon, you could get away with being a little cheesy.
“Hello?” Dash called as she swung the door open. She looked around at all the cool clothes and items on display, wondering why she’d never noticed this…thrift store? Or whatever it was. She was sure Rarity or Twilight would’ve brought it up.
No reply. No sign of life. Somepony was definitely playing music, though, old timey jazz on a record. Then she saw the large sign balanced on the front desk. “Oh. Huh.”
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“Don’t mind if I do!” Dash leered, rubbing her hands together as she looked at her new gloves. She paused, looking around. “Wait, so that record’s been playing since 1929? Where even is it?”
There were a couple of drapes covering doorways, probably hiding more cool stuff – like that fancy tuxedo she could see on a dummy, or the weapons and musical instruments she could see on the walls – but she didn’t feel like hunting through it all just to turn off a record. Besides, weird as it was, if it had been running for decades part of Dash admired it and didn’t wanna be the spoilsport who turned it off.
“Come to mama,” she cooed to the gloves as she picked one up. She was surprised to feel some kind of rubber or faux leather between her fingers. Not in a bad way, she had a major kink for this kinda thing! She just didn’t know if they’d had awesome stuff like that back in the stone age, but hey, vintage porn was full of all kinds of outfits, so why not.
Dash bit her lip at the simultaneously cool, slick but slightly warm, clinging sensation of the glove as she pulled it on, admiring how nice and snug the cuff felt around her bicep, enjoying the feel of pulling it up her arm and admiring how far it stretched. Rarity was gonna be so jealous.
She began to pull on the other one, frowning at the feel of something else in there with her hand, blocking it. “Huh? Awww man, please be just a mothball and not something gross…”
Fortunately, it wasn’t a very small corpse from her great grandparents’ heyday, it was… “A pocket watch…?”
A cheap looking one on the end of a ‘chain’ of little gold painted beads. Dash let it dangle in her hand as she squinted at it in confusion, and the weight and sway of it did feel kinda nice, but it was still a random ass find. Maybe the gloves’d belonged to a stage magician? Anyway!
“Awww yeah, that’s the stuff!” she grinned as she slipped her other glove on. She did the obligatory and heavenly feeling test, flexing her fingers then interlaced them and cracked the joints, producing a lovely balloon rubbing sound that muffled the pop of bones.
“Glad ya think so, honey!”
Dash spun, looking everywhere, half in a combat stance. Nothing and nobody.
“Take a look this-a-way, bright eyes,” cooed the slightly tinny voice.
“Who…?” Dash looked in the direction of the voice, laced with the perpetually playing music which now seemed slightly more energized. She blinked as one of the burgundy drapes somehow spread itself, actually a pair of stage curtains over a doorway. “Uh, hi? Name’s Rainbow Dash, I wanna talk about these gloves? The sign said--"
“Sure, sugar, just come right on in and lemme take a look at you,” the cheerful, sassy woman’s voice said. Dash followed it through the doorway. It opened onto a small dressing room, complete with the obligatory vanity bureau and a full-length mirror.
The room was filled with racks of other outfits, somewhat racy even for Dash (not that she’d mind seeing Applejack in a couple of them), but the obvious showstopper was draped across one of the fainting couches that took up the rest of the space – a black, latex catsuit topped by a pink hard-plastic looking…there really wasn’t any other word for it…breastplate. A pair of knee-high white boots, decorated with pink cuffs and heart designs on the toes, had been placed at the end of the couch, under the suits legs and somehow arranged to look as if one had been jauntily crossed over its straighter twin.
The only other thing in the room, right by the mirror and so basic compared to the outfits and furniture that Dash didn’t even realise it was there at first, was an old timey gramophone that happened to be the source of that music.
“Classy,” Dash observed, scanning the room. “Hello?”
“Hello yourself, sugar,” came the lady’s voice from the gramophone’s horn. Dash yelped, jumping away from it, which set her back from the mirror and gave her a better view of what was now appearing in it, which made her yelp again.
A bat! A beautiful anthropomorphic bat, with fur as white as Rarity’s own coat, silky looking tan skin, a black, white and pink outfit that looked so good on her she had to be bad news, and a broad grin that let Dash see twin fangs in her mouth along with the rest of her actually quite lovely dentistry.
“Who the…?!” Dash demanded.
“You oughta know, sugar!” the bat-girl’s voice giggled from the gramophone. She wagged a finger mock-admonishingly. Dash only had seconds to realise this weird mirror person’s gloves were identical to the ones she was wearing before it was drowned out by a second shock: her arm had moved all on its own, mimicking the bat’s gesture!
“What the fuck?!” Dash squawked. She grabbed her upper arm with the hand of her free glove, which added to the indescribably weird feeling. She wasn’t even sure she’d say it was bad, but it was still her body moving on its own and her instinct was panic and trying to seize control. “How’re you doing that?” She gasped in realisation. “The gloves! They’re yours?”
“Yes and no,” the bat’s voice said, the lips of her reflection moving in perfect sync with the increasingly clear sound from the gramophone. “I guess I oughta say they’re all yours, but it is gonna be just the two of us soon, so in a roundabout way I guess what’s yours is mine…”
She’d lowered her finger and put her hand on her hip, forcing Dash’s left arm to do the same. Dash stared as the bat looked her up and down. “Mmm-MMM, and I like what I see. Won’t take much work at all, why, you even have wings! Are you an angel, hon? Because you seriously look like the answer to my prayers!”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dash grunted, straining, trying to force her arms to move or slip them out of the gloves. “Look, if you’re trapped in the mirror I know some serious mages, we can--”
“Oh, of course I’m not trapped,” the bat chuckled, waving her/their right hand dismissively and effetely, not at all Dash’s body language. “After all, the only reason you could be trapped by your own reflection is because you’re just too beautiful not to be admire yourself…which is what’s going to make you such a perfect host.”
“The perfect what?!”
“So many questions! It’s easier if I show you, but first I really oughta see what I’m workin’ with here. Hold still now!”  The bat’s left hand put her index and middle fingers together, sticking her thumb up and her tongue out as she raised it to her temple. The gramophone music sped up, becoming a mounting, honkytonk version of The Devil’s Gallop.
Dash’s eyes went wide even though such a goofy move shouldn’t have scared her so much. Maybe it just felt different when her own fingers and thumb were the ones being moved, the ones pressing into her temple no matter how much she jerked her head around. “W-wait!”
The bat pulled her ‘gun’ away from her head, miming a firing motion. Dash was too taken aback by the BAMF from the gramophone to cry out. That and she suddenly felt amazingly lightheaded.
At first she thought it was somehow snowing in the dressing room, but realised it was just more mirror tricks: the reflection (if that’s even what the bat’s side of things was at this point) was filled with sheets of paper, twisting and turning in the air like scraps from one of Pinkie’s burst balloons. Dash felt an odd, kinda nice draining feeling in her right ear and realised that was where the mirror-papers were streaming out of: the bat girl’s right ear. The music had returned to its smooth jazz.
She blinked as the bat’s hands moved, her own miming snatching papers that weren’t there. “Did you just…literally blow my mind?”
“Well how else am I supposed to literally READ it, smarty-pants?” the bat grinned, her eyes flicking over words Dash couldn’t see and wasn’t sure she’d want to. “Speaking of pants, that’s what you’re going with? What’re folks gonna think if you don’t match your own reflection?”
“You’re not my reflection, you’re some crazy freak that lives in a mirror!” Dash shot back, and then realised the bat was using her wings to hold and flip through the papers. Her gloves, and therefore Dash’s own hands, were now undoing the Pegasus’ jeans. “H-hey!”
She began to flap her wings, desperately taking to the air. It made her jeans and even her Brooks shoes (custom made with rainbow decals) fall off. A chuckle came from the gramophone and those damn gloves suddenly moved again, Dash’s left hand grabbing her right wing in just the correct spot to make it stop working. What made Dash actually drop to the floor with a surprised squeal was that her right hand slapped her corresponding buttock.
“Gotta stay where I can see you, hot stuff,” the bat chided. “It’s not every day you get to play as Rouge the bat, that’s what they say! Now get those beauties outta the way.”
“Listen!” Dash snapped, then her thumbs hooked into her underwear and flexed, ripping clean through the fabric and letting the remains slide down her naked legs, and she was too shocked by now baring her marehood to this demented cartoon character to speak. Her instinct was of course to cover herself, but since Rouge’s hands shot to her hips Dash was now in the mortifying position of looking like she was presenting herself for examination. She felt a blush start in her cheeks as the gramophone music turned into The Stripper.
“Ooh, you just continue to impress, Dashie,” Rouge chuckled. “Mmm-hmm, you got the lips an’ hips, you know most’a the tricks, but lemme see if ya got the tits.”
“…don’t you DARE!” Dash shrieked as Rouge’s hands reached up to pinch the edges of her breastplate. Since Dash didn’t have one her gloved hands were now pinching two corners of the fabric of her Clousdale Fitness shirt. Rouge winked and dared, Dash yelping again as her gloves ripped her shirt right off her body, revealing her basic ass sports bra.
“Y’know what I like about you, Dashie?” Rouge leered. “You’re like a biiiig present I get to keep unwrapping.”
“I’ll give you ‘present’, you smug—!” Dash began, then blanched and blushed at the same time. “No. No-no-no-no-no—!”
She’d suddenly grabbed her wings, drawing them over herself like Rouge was doing. Rouge hooked the tips into the sides where her catsuit met her breastplate and winked at Dash, who’s wings were hooking into the straps of her bra. Dash rapidly shook her head, Rouge leering twice as hard as she nodded back. When she used her hands to flex her wings, her breastplate simply stretched and snapped back into place, jiggling. A SPROING sound reverberated from the gramophone’s horn, timed perfectly with Rainbow Dash’s wings busting apart her sports bra and letting her B-cups loose.
“You…you…!” Dash couldn’t find the words, partly because her mouth was trying to open and close while grinding her teeth at the same time.
“Hmmm,” Rouge mused, placing their hands in a contemplative pose, one stroking their chin with the other draped across it. “They do say nobody’s perfect, but I am, so you’ve gotta be. Whatta a pair we are, huh? And whatta pair you’re about to have! Go limp, hon.”
She held up both hands, pinching, and grabbed two specific points of her breastplate’s shiny fabric. Dash’s rapid-fire protests, curses, and threats became a hysterical jabbering as Rouge not only made her grab her nipples but began to pull on her breastplate, stretching it and her cleavage to ridiculous rubber lengths. To Dash’s outraged shock, her own hands were now pulling her breasts by her nipples…and stretching them!
It didn’t hurt and the sensation was bizarre, strangely exhilarating, but the closest Dash could come to describing it, especially her emotional state, was like reaching a dip on a roller coaster track before you were braced for it. She was further thrown by the realisation that a hissing sound wasn’t coming from the gramophone but her breasts, which were undulating as if being filled by air!
Rouge released, both her and Dash’s racks making wonderful juddering/wobbling noises as they snapped back into place. Dash stared down at her impossible new D-cups, her mouth opening and closing from the absurdity. She stared at the bat in the mirror again. “What the fuck?”
“Don’t say I never gave ya nothin’,” Rouge purred, winking at her. Dash snarled as the bat groped herself, making Dash’s gloved hands caress and squeeze her new cleavage. “Cheaper than that op you were savin’ up for.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Dash snapped. “You strip me and then, what, mutate me?! Fuck, how am I gonna explain this to anypony?! They’re so big it looks like I shouldn’t even be able to walk! I swear, if you’ve fucked up my centre of gravity, I’m gonna find the biggest hammer around and--”
She was cut off by Rouge daintily placing a finger against the glass of her mirror, which somehow made Dash’s left arm daintily put its own finger over her lips. Dash’s eyes shuddered from her anger’s clashing attempts to both pop and narrow them, she was that angry at the possibility whatever magic this was worked however this bat bitch wanted it to.
“Dashie, Dashie, Dashie,” Rouge chided sweetly, removing her finger from the surface of her mirror to wag it, Dash right arm raising to mirror the gesture, “you had the perfect segway after ‘walk’. Ya gotta learn to hit those cues! Ah well, pucker up so we can make up.”
“What,” Dash spat bitterly as her left finger released her lips, “you wanna relive junior high and kiss your mirror? I’d tell you to kiss my ass if you weren’t such a perv you’d probably do it.”
She felt something cold churn inside her spine at a dangerous glint in the bat’s eye. “Oh, trust me, little host, you have NO idea what I could make you do.” Rouge’s eyes stopped narrowing and her smile regained its demented aspect. “So why don’t’cha pucker those lips so’s we can do that voodoo that only we do and whistle a happy tune?”
Dash squinted as the bat made her hold two ready fingers up to her mouth. “Whistle?”
“Did I stutter? C’mon Dashie, if ya didn’t have a good set’a lungs on ya before, well…” Rouge groped their right breast with her free hand, Dash gritting her teeth not at the pleasure of her new double-D getting felt but from still being trapped as this creature’s plaything.
“I’ll whistle alright,” she growled. This wasn’t going to be much defiance, but she’d been through so much already that she’d take what she could get. “I’ll whistle when I walk past your grave, you crazy bitch!!!”
“Hmph!” Rouge huffed. “Fine, be pedestrian.”
She held up her arm and made Dash snap her fingers. Dash would’ve wondered why they made a nice clear snap instead of being muffled by the material if she wasn’t busy feeling creeped out over her bones being expertly manipulated by an outside intelligence. All thoughts other than ‘GYAAAGHHH, what the fuck?!’ was driven out of her head as the two boots on the couch sprang to life, suddenly filled out as if around a pair of invisible thighs, and began to tap dance all around the room.
“Oh, you big show-offs!” Rouge tittered over the sudden display, wagging Dash’s hand fondly…and invitingly.
Dash had instinctively taken a step back at the burst of motion and now ran backwards until she bumped into a rack. Just as she had the revelation she could make a break for the exit, maybe get out of Rouge’s range and pull these fucking gloves off, her arms crossed themselves, the lack of control over her own limbs as unsetteling as ever, and her fingers splayed. To Dash’s horror they began to flap themselves like little wings and a flood of shock filled her inflated chest as her wings began to beat themselves in time with the motion.
Dash kicked her legs frantically, but it was no use. Her wings fluttered her right back to the mirror and into range of Rouge’s boots, which began to dance circles around her. To her returning fury, Dash realised they were dancing to a version of The Can-Can coming out of the gramophone.
“Go to hell,” she snarled at the mirror, irritated that Rouge had folded her arms for her. It matched Dash’s mood but the body language of the bat in the mirror was smug. “Maybe you’ve got my arms but there’s no way I’m gonna pull those things on! Were they built for hooves in the first place? Are we even the same shoe size?!”
Rouge put her hands on her hips and leaned forward, Dash’s repeat of the gesture forcing her to lean towards her counterpart. “Trust me, babe: I’ll fit you like a glove.”
“Very funny. The second Twilight gets your outfit off me I’m throwing it in the nearest incinerator.”
“Awww, I already knew ya thought I was hot,” Rouge winked. “Seriously, put ‘em on.”
“Or what?” Dash growled. Rouge grinned dementedly and held up one hand with two outstretched fingers. At first Dash thought the bitch was going to poke her in the eyes, Nyuck-Nyuck style, but it was arguably worse. Rouge shot her hand down between her legs and past her crotch.
Rainbow Dash let out the loudest squeal she’d made all night as her right hand shoved her fingers inside herself, making her jump in place. Just before she could topple backwards, she felt a bizarre, rubbery sensation. With another jolt she realised the left boot had swallowed her leg and was pulling itself up and past her knee. It jerked her forward as it stood ramrod straight, leaving Dash’s torso to rock forward, her right leg flailing at nothing, her right hand still fingering herself while her left pulled on her tail.
Dash’s mouth was wide open, no sound coming out from shock. She managed a “No-no-n—!” before the right boot suctioned itself around her leg, sliding up to join its twin. Dash had just enough time to see Rouge’s image in the mirror, in an identical pose to hers but with an orgasmic face, before the bat let out a delighted squeal that caused crazy feedback from the gramophone. The excited bat sprang into a new pose, arms triumphantly throw up and legs wide apart. Dash felt vertigo as her body snapped into the same position, her heels making loud clacks as they struck the dressing room floor.
“Ta-da!” Rouge declared. She began to turn this way and that, stroking her arms, hips and legs, Dash grunting from the strain of trying to resist as her body did the same, now perfectly turning to mirror the bat’s movements.
“What kinda crazy store is this?!” Dash bellowed, her cheeks a mix of mortified blushing red and furious purple.
“Didn’t ya see the sign, bright eyes?” Rouge cooed. She threw herself backwards into a cartwheel…and Dash’s gloves and boots forced her to do the same, performing four perfect flips across the room to the entrance, their unwilling wearer “Who-ooo-oa, who-ooo-oa, who-ooo-oa!”ing the whole way.
Dash felt her body twist, furious at her grace being stolen like this, that her body lent so well to Rouge’s antics, and found herself landing in a presentation pose, legs crossed, right hand on her hip and her left held out palm up, fingers perfectly flat and thumb cocked just right to display the front room – a dusty, dilapidated, decrepit version of itself, cobwebs and peeling strips hanging from every wall, yellow and black tape wrapped all over every doorway in place of classy curtains. The worst part, the part that made Dash stare, was the half-faded sign over the collapsed, rotted front desk.
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“Oh crap,” Rainbow Dash said in a very small voice. Then yelped as her legs spun her around on her heels and her arms yanked her down into a cartwheel back into Rouge’s dressing room, her “Yiiii-iiii-yiiii-iiii-yiiii-iiiike!” changing pitch through each spin.
On the last one, her gloves grabbed the back of a plush, old timey swivel chair Dash wasn’t sure had been in the dressing room to begin with and spun it behind her. Her boots made her throw herself backwards into it, crossing her legs as her left glove grabbed the arm rest and her right hand propped against her check, making her head tilt at an angle that would’ve been coquettish if Dash’s face wasn’t caught between terror and rage.
The mirror had changed in the seconds Dash’s body had been away from it, now a large, circular, gilded thing, Rouge relaxing on a…Dash couldn’t believe it, a fucking throne, naturally making the same pose as Dash, holding her body still. “See, ain’t this nice?” Rouge’s voice purred from the gramophone. “Just us girls!”
“When my friends find you…me…whatever!” Dash growled.
“Sure Dashie, that’s the plan!”
“What…?”
Rouge leaned forward, hands on her knees, Dash hating how much her mirroring body language made them look like co-conspirators. “After all…why should you get all the fun?!”
The leer on the bat’s face, the slightly reptilian slant to her pupils, the length of the fangs in Rouge’s grin, all of it scared her. Dash could only squirm her torso uselessly, a prisoner of her own clothes. “All the…? No! I won’t let you--”
“Dashie, Dashie, Dashie,” Rouge sneered, tapping their nose, making Dash flinch from the touch of her own finger. “Haven’t you figured it out already? You’re going to do exactly what I would do…because you’re gonna BE me! We’ve just gotta clean ya up a lil’ first, and for that we need to…”
Dash stared as her left hand shot in front of her face, its fingers dancing like Rouge’s, and performed a complicated series of flicks. She gasped in shock as she felt a sudden weight in her hand and stared as Rouge made it dangle something in front of her.
That cheap faux-gold pocket watch she’d found in the gloves when she’d tried them on.
“…wash you out,” Rouge purred as it began to sway back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth…
***
Twilight Sparkle squinted at the building façade then down at the gift-wrapped box she was carrying under her arm. It was entirely possible this theatre Rainbow Dash’s oddly florid card had invited them to had always been here, and it had been Dash’s handwriting on the card and the gift tag to her on the box, but she wasn’t sure. Rainbow Dash finding an old theatre in the old business part of Ponyville over the hill made sense. She loved exploring. But the flirtatious (and jokingly eloquent) tone of the invitation, and sending clothes…?
“Good evening, darling,” Rarity said behind her, her voice coming closer. Twilight turned and smiled, but raised an eyebrow at the sight of her and Spike together.
Not the way she once would have, Spike was in his late teens and close enough to the age of consent that Twilight wouldn’t have had much of a problem with it if they were together, but Rarity was wearing a pair of opera gloves and a fur stole, while the dragon was dressed in a pin striped suit jacket that was just a few sizes too big for him. Spike gave her an embarrassed grin, clearly aware of how he looked and that the long tie around his neck only looked as good as it did because Rarity had tied it for him.
“You too?” Twilight asked them as they headed in through the doors.
“Quite,” Rarity smiled. “Not exactly Rainbow’s usual set up, but at least this prank comes with some delightful outfits!”
“That’s what you think it is?” Twilight mused. “A prank?”
“It’s Rainbow Dash, Twi,” Spike said bluntly, looking around the foyer. It was oddly more like a small shop entrance but somehow expanded. The posters for plays and movies all looked extremely outdated and featured bizarrely eclectic costume choices. Twilight couldn’t remember hearing of any of them, and wouldn’t have minded seeing a few, especially the one with what looked like a nun, a rabbi a doctor and…
Twilight squinted, leaning into the poster. She’d glanced away only for a second but was that…? Was that Rainbow Dash in some sort of Hearts and Hooves Day outfit with the other three?! How? Had she been here when Twilight had looked before…?
“Oh my!” Rarity exclaimed behind her, at the same instant Spike yelped, “What the–?!”
***
Twilight spun, looking around wildly. The lobby was now empty. She was about to call out for Spike when another poster caught her attention: a romantic comedy movie with…no, it couldn’t be…with Rarity dressed in a Jessica Rabbit style outfit, lighting a cigarette with an aloof expression, while a muscular version of Spike now almost bursting out of his suit grinned dopily behind her, down on one knee as he proffered candy and flowers but now so tall his chest was level with Rarity’s head. Twilight realised he’d somehow acquired an old fashioned hat to go with his suit, and that Rarity’s new outfit included the gloves and stole she’d come in with.
“That’s not–!” Twilight began, then shook her head. “No, of course it’s possible, it’s magic. But what kind of--”
She yelped at a sudden blast of trumpets behind her, spinning around again to be blown away by a sudden archway that had most definitely not been behind her a second ago. It was lined with clothes from the posters, multi-coloured stage lights pulsing inviting from around the bend. “Roll up, come in, and find out!” cooed a familiar voice through a tinny, unseen speaker, almost as if the speaker were talking into an old-fashioned radio.
“Rainbow?!” Twilight called. She got no response other than giggiling sounds she recognized as the voices of the other Elements and a deeper male one. “What? How? Are you doing this?” Her eyes went wide. “Do you know magic now? Oh stars and suns above us, Rainbow Dash knows magic. Celestia help us all!”
Something jarred her arm suddenly. Twilight stared at the box, still under her arm and beginning to twitch and thrash. She hurled it away at the same instant she jumped back, accidentally tripping over her sneakers and stumbling to the floor. She stared as the box burst open, glistening black against the swirling scraps. Whatever was in there danced and swayed in time to the trumpet music, but almost like it was looking around. It “turned” a glistening, open set of rubber lapels towards it. Twilight realised she was staring at a black rubber dress styled to double as a magician’s tuxedo.
The dress bounced back and forth, almost like an excited dog, then hurled itself across the room at her. It smacked into a purple force field, its straps pawing manically at the sides as if frantically trying to embrace Twilight. “Nope!” she snapped, voice muffled by her field, and fired a banishing spell through it. The dress twisted in on itself like a dying insect and hit the floor, dissolving into purple magic sparkles.
“Awww, now that’s no way to behave!” whined Rainbow’s voice as Twilight staggered to her hooves. “How can ya join the party if ya don’t follow the dress code?!”
Twilight ran down the corridor, trying to follow every jarring twist and turn the tunnel seemed to throw at her. She wasn’t sure if the space was getting tighter or if the clothes lining the walls were reaching for her, alive. With a final flap of her wings she threw herself towards the lights and crashed into a row of theatre seats.
“Oh my!” drawled a voice above her. At first Twilight through it was Rarity, but as she struggled upright she realised she was looking at…
“Applejack?!”
“Why, who else, sugar?” purred the no-way-in-hell-could-this-be-AJ, waving a fan in front of her face, resplendent in a frilly green dress with so many lairs she looked like she could be rigged up to sail around the world in eighty days but also with enough of a slit to show off her leg, bedecked with red garters almost all the way down to her high heeled shoes. “Now do be a dear an’ escort me to my seat. I’d go myself but the thought of traversin’ such a disreputable stretch of floor all on my lonesome has given me a case of the vapours! Oh dear, here I go…!”
She threw her head back and one of her white opera gloves hands to her brow, bedecked with a tiara instead of her Stetson, at the same time, pitching forward. Twilight squawked in terror, speed-crawling across the floor to avoid being crushed. What felt like miles of green, perfumed and intimate smelling frills swirled around her and suddenly she was blinking in a front row seat, with a bucket of popcorn no less.
“’Ey, down in front!” barked a trashy Manehattan accent.
Twilight looked over her shoulder and scattered her popcorn in shock at the sight of Rarity…‘s chevage, somehow so directly behind her that her nose had booped it. Twilight blushed furiously but Rarity’s only response was to wink at her, now wearing the glistening, painted on red dress from her poster and lighting up the cigarette in a holder between her very, very red lips, seemingly unconcerned with a naked flame around her stole.
There was an oven timer ping from somewhere and suddenly the entire row of seats swelled, somehow readjusting itself. Twilight blinked in shock at the sight of a grinning, “…Spike?!”
But it couldn’t be! Spike had finally been starting to grow, yes, but her lankly little guy had been turned into a strapping (and handsome, she had to admit), grinning goliath, now perfectly fitting into his suit. “Say, doll face,” he rumbled at Rarity in a deep Manehattanite drawl, “didn’t’cha see the sign? No smokin’!”
“Ugh, fine,” Rarity grumbled, removing her holder and crushing out the tip between her gloved fingers.
“Awww, don’t burn out on me, gorgeous!” Spike’s grin broadened as he waggled his eyebrows, somehow making his fedora go up and down as well. “You still light my fire!”
“Oh Spikey-Wikey!”
Twilight yelped as Rarity dived at Spike, almost taking one of the other mare’s nosebleed heels through her eye and possibly saved only because Rarity somehow baring all of Spike’s increased mass to the floor burst apart the entire row, pitching Twilight out of her seat. She scrambled up on her elbows, starting in disbelief as Spike’s suit and Rarity’s dress pinwheeled out of the debris. Her jaw fell open as, right in front of her, Rarity mounted Spike, still in his fedora, tie and somehow his sock suspenders, and they began to unambiguously fuck, slowing their rutting only to exchange kisses to whatever part of the other’s anatomy was closest.
“Oooh, he’s a fool but he makes me laugh,” Rarity confided, briefly breaking away from their love making to look at Twilight like she would at the fourth wall, before diving back on top of Spike.
“Well the mook and the moll’re having a hot time,” purred Rainbow Dash’s voice. “How about you?”
Twilight took a deep breath to steady herself, got to her hooves, and turned slowly. She managed to adopt a poker face but still felt herself blushing when she took in the…call it a catsuit the Pegasus was wearing. It looked like black PVC, and it led the eye down to her white and pink boots magnificently. Once you stopped staring at the pink breastplate over her chest.
Dash’s head had been lowered, covered by a black and white top hat, the brim of which she clutched in one white glove, a marionette’s baton styled like a magic wand in the other. She looked up, a seductive smirk on her makeup covered face that didn’t belong to her personality type at all, and winked at Twilight.
Twilight teleported onto the stage, hoping to disorient Dash by appearing behind her and, really, to keep from being distracted by Rarity and Spike’s continuing romp in the seats. Neither tactic worked, Dash spinning expertly on one high heel and maintaining her pose.
“You’re probably wondering what the plot of our little production is,” Dash said, casually resting on her baton like a cain. “Well, settle in and old Rouge Dash will take you back, back to the early days of the 20th century, though our tale starts even further back, a time of romance, adventure, and--”
“You’re possessed,” Twilight said, nodding to herself.
Dash’s wings drooped as she slumped in place, pouting. “Awww man! We were gonna do a whole bit! We had a music number all ready to go!”
“Is that my cue?” called Applejack, poking her head between the curtains.
“Nah, all good Juely,” Dash assured, winking at the altered workhorse and making her blush. “You just sit tight and look gorgeous, we’ll make some music backstage later.”
“Oh, you wicked thing!” AJ tittered, vanishing between the curtains. Twilight took a step towards her but stopped. She sensed turning her back on Rainbow Dash, or more accurately whatever was piloting her friend’s sinewy, curvy, gloriously rubber clad…ahem…her friend’s body would be unwise.
“Gimmicks, changes in personality, the way this space doesn’t make physical sense. It tracks. You only get these kinds of powerful distortions in places where there’s a lot of magic or a lot of souls. Magic changes things.” Her eyes narrowed. “It takes souls to change people.”
“Souls’re people too, Princess,” Dash said, wagging a finger. Had that been her voice? Twilight wasn’t sure, the flirtatious tone, the glamorous showbiz attitude. The problem was the suit kept throwing her off, but she was sure Rainbow Dash wouldn’t have been able to commit to any gag for this long. She’d want you to know who was pulling it.
“Are you about to feed me some sob story about how you were unjustly imprisoned here?” Twilight asked, slowly circling Dash, trying to buy time, figure out the right spell.
“Eh, they were mostly crooks and con artists,” Dash said with a shrug, which Twilight couldn’t help feel was to make the Pegasus’ cleavage swell and embarrass her. (And hated because it worked.) “Did they deserve it? Maybe. Do our partners in crime look like they’re unhappy about it?”
She smirked and stepped aside, gesturing like a magician’s assistant. Rarity and Spike…no, Twilight corrected herself, the, what had Dash’s possessor called them, the Mook and the Moll inside Spike and Rarity, were sprawled together, chests heaving, both smoking cigarettes now. Thankfully Rarity’s stocking clad legs were cocked at an angle that hid Spike’s crotch.
“Doesn’t make it right,” Twilight retorted.
“Didn’t say it did!” Dash teased. “And what would you say if I actually love being Rouge’s host? That we turned out to have tons in common, once I stopped with all the ‘No, no, my morals and free will!’ malarky?” She wrapped her arms around the waist, self-embracing and swaying her hips and cleavage from side to side in rapture. “What if I told you it feels so much better to just give in and let your partner slide inside you, wrap themselves around your soul, the best of both of you becoming something so new?”
“I’d say it’s time to fix this,” Twilight said, powering up her horn and firing a beam of dispersal magic at Rainbow Dash, exorcizing the soul of the bat girl insider her before going on to do the same for their friends and calling Princess Celestia to condemn the haunted site, preserving the status quo of Equestria for the rest of history.
THE END
NOT!
“I’d say it’s time to fix this,” Twilight said, powering up her horn and firing a beam of dispersal magic at Rainbow Dash…very, very slowly as time became a crawl. Rarity and Spike’s chests heaved in slow motion as Rainbow Dash turned to the camera, waggled her eyebrows, and removed her hat. Time accelerated, making Twilight stumble forward in surprise and cutting off the beam.
She stared at Rainbow Dash, casually holding the hat in front of her with both hands, her baton tucked under one arm. The trail of the beam vanished inside the hat, the hole glowing purple. Dash swung it back and forth a few times before Twilight could react, the last one hurling out a wave of purple liquid that Twilight had just enough time to register was turning and glossy black before she instinctively flinched, covering her face.
“Gyagh!” Twilight cried as she felt the black liquid impact her. She looked down at her soaked shirt, watching as the black patch sank into it. She glared up at Dash, trying to start running towards the possessed Pegasus before she tried anything else, but staggered, dropping to her knees. The liquid had covered her shoes, which were now morphing into a pair of black thigh high boots. Twilight yelped in surprise again as they not only sealed themselves around her thighs but sucked down and shredded her jeans as well, exposing her underwear, which was turning into a glossy black pair of latex panties with gold lining.
“Ladies and whatever the heck Spike is now!” Dash declared, theatrically gesturing to Twilight’s struggling body as her wardrobe shuddered and morphed into the black tuxedo she’d banished a few minutes ago, complete with black thigh high boots and matching latex opera gloves with white cuffs around the wrists. “Preeeesenting…The Midnight Special, and its beloved host, Twilight Sparkle!”
“Wh—?!” Twilight began, reeling in her new heels, and was cut off in shock as her gloves dragged her forward into a theatrical bow. There were a few tepid applause. Spike and Rarity, now fully dressed, were sitting with Applejack in a somehow restored row of seats. None of them looked particularly interested. Rarity was even checking her phone.
“What are ya, dead?!” Dash hissed in a loud stage whisper, leaning over as obviously as possible. “Give ’em a show!” She quickly plucked the hat off her head and shoved it down over Twilight’s before the outraged Alicorn could protest. “Heh, sorry folks, technical difficulties!”
“I’ll give you technical dificultittys!” Twilight snapped. She blinked in confusion. “Wait, what? Why would I say that?” She was cut off, managing only a gargled sound of shock as her right hand grabbed her chin, smushing her cheeks and making her mouth an involuntary ‘O’ shape. She gargled in further surprise as her left hand clenched her fist and stuck out her thumb, shoving it into her mouth.
The rubber of her glove tasted strangely good and mildly arousing, but was nothing compared to the totally unexpected pleasure that came next. Her dress/tux contracted and released rapidly around her waist. Twilight gagged and sputtered through involuntary puffs, reeling from the disorientation of being turned into a living bellows and marvelling at the indescribable feeling in her breasts, which she realised were what was being inflated.
The trio in the stands erupted into far more enthusiastic applause, Rarity climbing Spike’s shoulders to pump a gloved fist and make, “Hoo-hoo-hoo!” noises devoid of any of her usual poise and dignity.
“What the FUCK?!” Twilight demanded as her new outfit made her bow in ways designed to bare and jiggle as much of her new double D chest as possible, blushing with anger and embarrassment as one hand gripped the brim of her hat and the other slid down to her boots, which were making her adopt coquettish pose after coquettish pose. She was sure she’d seen some of them on posters back in the lobby, which just made her angrier.
“Twilight Special, my fellow possessed!” Dash cheered. “Even she doesn’t know how she does it! And if you liked that, wait ’til ya see her next trick! That’s right, you nutty haunted clothes and willing flesh, you! The bold and beautiful Twilight Special shall hypnotise…herself!”
“Ooooooh!” cooed the trio, now surrounded by seats full of different outfits that were either waving their sleeves in the air or miming clapping. Dash tossed the baton-wand. One of Twilight’s gloves caught it, the other pressed itself to her lips and instantly pulled off, miming a kiss complete with an unwilling sound effect.
Twilight’s furious eyes shot to the tip of her…no, dammit, the Midnight Special’s baton as her gloved fingers began to casually twirl it. It startled to trail twinkling magical stars. She tried to turn her head away, but the top hat dragged her head back into place. “Yeah, right. I’m a student of Princess Celestia and the Princess of Friendship, you tacky ghost stripper, or whatever you are. I’ll be more absorbed thinking up the right spell to get me out of here than I’ll ever be with this parlour trick.”
“But then how will you lead our merry band across the land,” Dash purred, hovering on her wings to whisper seductively into her ear, “whipping up new tricks we can play with dudes and chicks?”
“Ugh, could you at least be consistent?” Twilight muttered, glaring at Dash’s face through the blur of her baton. “I mean, stage shows and rhyming? What’s that got to do with being a sexy thief?”
“One, thank you for calling us sexy,” Dash teased, running a hand through her hair. Her smile became more sinister. “And two…when did we tell you we were a thief?”
“I…uh…” Twilight stammered. She tried to shake her head but the top hat wouldn’t let her. Wouldn’t let her look away from the swirls and stars. “Well, alright, so perhaps the Midnight Special has accessed my brain, letting in some of its knowledge, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to be brainwashed by this silly stick!”
“Yeah you will,” Dash said cheerfully.
“Never!”
“Yes you will.”
“Oh real mature!”
“No it’s not and yes you will.”
“No I won’t!” Twilight snapped, her righteousness and rationality buried under juvenal playground fury. Bad enough everypony was getting possessed, did they— or the spirits inside them, whatever! —have to be annoying too?!
“Yes you will!”
“No I won’t!”
“Yes you will!”
“No I won’t!”
“No you won’t!” Dash whined, stamping her heel and pouting.
“Yes I will!” Twilight retorted.
“Will not!”
“Will too!”
“Will not!”
“Will too, will too, will too!” Twilight shouted, blinking to keep the smug bitch’s face in view through the spirals that were starting to spin in her eyes.
She saw Dash smirk, her image distorting so much through the blur of the baton that it almost seemed like another image was growing out of her, a white furred, bat eared, identically smirking shape.
“Prove it,” they said.
***
Two hours later Ponyville was very different. Circus tents and stalls were being erected, or more accurately were magically sprouting all over the area, often in flashes of purple but more and more with different Unicorns’ auras. Carnival music was playing from somewhere. Pinkie Pie seemed to have acquired a red and black clown suit and was bouncing even more than usual, handing out a seemingly endless supply of costumes. The bemused residents took them without any real resistance; after all, if Pinkie Pie was in on whatever this was…
Carousel Boutique, which appeared to have developed some oddly angled extensions that made the actual boutique into more of a façade and looked like a quashed down Manehattan apartment block (although still a high end one), was bedecked with old timey posters advertising bargains. Get that perfect new look while you still can…
Spike’s taller and better dressed “long distance cousin, how ya doin’, say, know what youse needs?” was handing out coupons for the boutique and invitations for the event. Princess Twilight Sparkle, in her new role as Twilight Special, was going to be putting on a life changing show here in Ponyville before going on tour! The number of performers for this show seemed to be increasing, and consisted of strangely familiar Ponyville faces dressed oddly and acting even weirder. There was also a strict dress code…
The Great and Powerful Trixie had stormed into the castle after learning of the event, and had sashayed out in a revealing assistant’s outfit, her hat replaced by ridiculous feathered headdress that bobbed excitedly when she told everyone what a gas it was turning tricks for Twilight Special, oh, what a mare, what showponyship!
After seeing that Fluttershy had gone to see Rarity, hoping to establish what was going on and if there was any way she could be excused? It all seemed a bit…um…much. A few minutes later, Mistress Fluttershy had stomped out of the boutique, making for the portal to Discord’s realm and meaningfully patting her crop into her gloved hand.
After the initial shock, the Spirit of Chaos would be delighted by the new and improved Elements, offering Twilight Special any and all assistance. Within a few weeks, his Mistress would have thoroughly broken him, and with that any hope of ceasing the ongoing party/orgy that was Equestria there might’ve been when he got bored and either restored it or took it over.
But that was later. Right now, only 5% of Ponyville’s population was left, and the guest of honour had yet to arrive.
***
Inside her castle study, which now resembled a mix between a plush office and a star’s dressing room, Twilight Special looked up from some blueprints for a new, more entertaining Canterlot to theatrically cock an ear, shifting her top hat brim. “Hark, is that the distinctive flap of some fun-loving feathers I hear?”
“Loving, at least,” Rainbow Dash said, cheerfully gliding in through one of the sets of curtains that acted as doors, to rooms Twilight’s office shouldn’t have been connected to in Euclidian space. “How’s it going, boss?”
“All the better for having my most loyal star performer back with us,” Twilight said, turning her head as Dash fluttered over to her and exchanging kisses. “Don’t leave me in suspense, hon. Have the invitations been delivered?”
“Princess Celestia and Princess Luna’ll be joining us, yeah,” Dash grinned, wrapping her arms around her boss’ now much curvier waist.
“Celestia never could resist a good party,” Twilight chuckled, making a last few adjustments to her plans. She put the pen away and gently gripped Dash’s wrist, teleporting them to the plush bed, the Pegasus not reacting to suddenly sitting in the Alicorn’s lap. Twilight reached up to take the sides of Dash’s face, raising an eyebrow. “Luna, though.”
“Yeah, thought about that,” Dash said, nodding.
“And what did you think?”
“I thought, What Would The Boss Do?”
“Mmmm.” Twilight smirked, the pupils of her eyes becoming reptilian and almost as black as her clothing. “I’d bring along a little incentive, a tiny piece of Luna’s costume that might make her curious what the rest of it would feel like. Almost like an appetizer. Or bait.”
“Gee, boss,” Dash grinned, “you sure are smart!”
“Well obviously,” Twilight chuckled leaning in. “I let you two talk me into this, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, boss…” Dash whispered.
They kissed deeply, since they still had a couple of hours before the rest of Ponyville was in on the act and the sisters took their seats. It only took a few minutes for them to be down to their gloves and Twilight’s hat. All four had a wonderful time, the first of many.
END