Stuck

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Departure

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.

A book is floating up, towards me; carried in the magic field of another, a Changeling. (Even if I did not know this, right now.)

In the excitement of seeing the book floating up towards me, I forget; once more trying to trot up towards the book, trying to grasp the book before me.

“Squeak Squeak” is heard, as the substance is holding my hooves on the floor under me.

There is a cold sensation, gracing my horn; as I try to focus, grasping the book before me. But alas, the attempt is for naught. I can’t summon the magic, as the substance covering the horn is blocking and absorbing what I could have summoned. (The more I push, the colder the touch gracing my horn.) In shock, I am giving up the futile and highly uncomfortable attempt. (There simply is no point, in persisting; it’s just too uncomfortable, and yields exactly nothing.)

As much as I do want to grasp the book, before me; the sensations imposed upon me are discomforting and foreboding.

Yet, my patience is rewarded; as the book is stopping before me, giving me the time to read the title and examine its covers. (Even if I am denied the chance to feel the book in my grasp!)

With hooves twitching, in desire to step closer and feel its covers; I am straining my neck, in order to scan the book’s content and explore what is its secrets.

The book stays out of my hooves reach (obviously), but soon stops before me; at a mere foot’s distance (One and a half horn’s distance), a fairly comfortable distance to me (to read).

I am enjoying the appearance, even if it is torture, not to be able to touch or grasp the book before me. The book stays before me, in a stationary position; permitting me to read the title and explore the texture and imagery on the front cover, in comfortingly relaxing ease. (Even if the book is a convenient distraction, {placed be}for me!)

While I am still comfortable, keeping my hooves firmly on the floor; it is still tugging at my magic, tantalizing me in the process.

Strangely enough, to me; the book is remaining before me, where I can read comfortably.

“Wait, does the book react to my attention?” I ponder, as I notice the book moving to permit me to examine the book more closely. (Well, why not?)

While I am still stuck in place, my hooves effectively glued to the floor and my magic still inaccessible; I can still move my head around, as my neck remains free.

“If I am moving my neck; can I at least be granted the liberty to feel the texture of the cover of this book before me, with my bare muzzle?” I ponder, hoping against hope that it is the case and I will not be denied.

I am alone, or so I believe; none is within my field of vision, while the book stubbornly remains before me.

After a moment of consideration, I am stretching my neck in order to reach the book with my muzzle; only to feel a wet sensation on the top of my muzzle, and the sensation of the touch is spreading out slowly. (After a minute, or so; the slippery and wet sensation had spread out to cover my entire muzzle, coating me with the substance.)

“Whoa!” I exclaim, instinctively recoiling and pulling back my muzzle.

“For your eyes.. Only*” the text reads, in cursive letters under the Title of the book.

The cold wetness coating my muzzle slowly subsides, while a restrictive pressure is growing growing to replace the wetness I had initially experienced.

“Do I dare?” I ponder; “But, I have to confirm if my sensation is what I think it is!” I conclude

My eyes linger longingly on the cover of the book; even after my face had pulled back, to what I believe is a safe distance. (I can still read the text, on the cover.. quite comfortably.)

Since I can’t even lift a single hoof as much as an inch off of the hard crystalline floor; I can only reach for my chest, in order to confirm what I am suspecting. (My neck remains free, untouched; leaving me with the option to muzzle my chest, as the only option.)

As the tip of my muzzle is finally reaching my chest; I am experiencing a cold and slippery wet sensation, while I still feel the fluffy coat of fur on my chest, as if nothing had happened. (The dissonance between the sensations chilling and highly unsettling, but in a sense it is confirming the position in which I had just found myself.)

While I can see my hooves, and legs if I am looking down; I can’t exactly see my muzzle, without a mirror before me. (The book chooses this very moment, flipping the page; where the back of the cover is a mirror, as if they had been planning for this very moment and what had just led up to it. {Had they?}) As I finally do get my eyes up to see the mirror in the book; I can see the glossy and rubbery surface coating my muzzle, a few shades deeper and darker than the natural hue of the coat of fur I had been born with. I gasp, my eyes finally are resting on the visage I had been subjected to.

I open my mouth, to scream; no overt resistance to the action, and I can hear the sound of my voice coming out: “Iiiiiiih..”

“Okay..” I realize; “I can scream, as much as I like; but no help or aid is forthcoming!” I conclude, in frustrated shock and disappointment. (Nothing to do about it; I am alone, and with none to help me out!)

The substance is covering my lips and an inch into my nostrils as well. Yet, it isn’t as uncomfortable, as I should have been expecting; as if she had put an effort into making it as comforting as she could muster. Had she? If so; I guess: I should be grateful, for the effort she had been putting into it. (On closer inspection; my lips had picked up a shade several levels deeper than the rest of my muzzle, as if she had placed the emphasis on the effect of make-up applied!)

Once my eyes once more turn the focus back to the book and the title of said book; I can once more see the title: “the Book”.

“The book - a Changeling compilation” I finally read on the first page inside the book.

“Curious subtitle!” I conclude; as I am considering the situation, I had just found myself in.

As it stands, and I can do nothing but stand; this book is effectively distracting me from my situation and everything implied.

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“Table of Content:” I read, just as the page had flipped, once more

“Table of Content..” I ponder; “this is a book, organized for me to enjoy what it is presenting!” I conclude.

“Page 00” I read; "Story; Prologue " Wordcount = 01168.

“Page 01” I read; “Story; Departure " Wordcount = 01028.

“Page 02” I read; “Story; The Book ” Wordcount = 01472. [In Progress]

“Page 03” I read; “Story; Your Changeling.. and You: (an Introduction)" Wordcount = 01103. [In Progress]

“Page 04” I read; “Story; Your (Little) Pony.. and You: (an Introduction)” Wordcount = 01094. [In Progress]

“Page 05” I read; “Story; Lam-e IA " (Lame IA) Wordcount = 001152.

“Page 06” I read; “Story; Struggle: Ceased ” (Unity: Achieved) Wordcount = 01316.

“Page 07” I read; “Story; I Dream of You (01) ” (Miss Pew) Wordcount = 01756.

“Page 08” I read; “Story; A New Day” Wordcount = 01350.

“Page 09” I read; “Story; Squeak” Wordcount = 01222.

“Page 10” I read; “Story; In Twilight” Wordcount = 00358.

“Page 11” I read; “Story; Spouse of Discord” Wordcount = 00302.

“Page 12” I read; “Story; I Dream of You (02) ” (Miss Few) Wordcount = 00690.

“Page 13” I read; “Story; Over-Night – A Rubber Pone Created” Wordcount = 00041.

“Page 14” I read; “Story; X” Wordcount = 00041.

“Page 15” I read; “Story; X” Wordcount = 00041.

“Page 16” I read; “Story; X” Wordcount = 00041.

“Page 17” I read; “Story; X” Wordcount = 00000.

“Page 18” I read; “Story; X” Wordcount = 00000.

“Page 19” I read; “Story; X” Wordcount = 00000.

“Page 20” I read; “Story; X” Wordcount = 00000.

“Page 21” I read; “Story; Questions and Answeres: X (Q'n'A) ” Wordcount = 00650.

Wordcount = 12661. (14661 I hope you don't mind my interpretation of the expression; "For your eyes, only."

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Pass: "Faux Pas" Confirmed..

Your Changeling.. and You: (an Introduction)

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Choo Choo Choo - Ray..!!!