(Take Me Into) Your Skin

It was a personal secret, something she'd never admit to any of them, but Rarity had a ranking of her friends and their usefulness as models.

Twilight was deeply reliable. Perhaps an extension of her natural curiosity, she'd come to enjoy helping out whenever Rarity wished to try out a design on a mare of her shape. She'd remain ram-rod straight during measurements, hardly ever flinched away from her sewing pins, and even offered assistance in bringing over fabrics with her magic to help the process along. Her one flaw, perhaps, was that she tended to move when she talked. The movements were subtle, little shifts of her hooves, moving her head a little more in whatever direction Rarity was, laughs that seemed to roll all throughout her body. Ultimately negligible, but inconvenient every now and again.

Fluttershy was helpful. She liked to stay quiet and had no problem remaining mostly statue-like as Rarity focused. She was always the most willing to help out, too, the dear. As helpful a model as she was, she wasn't a perfect one. Rarity usually had to correct her poses. Fluttershy could never seem to lift her wings high enough, stick her hind-leg out far enough. It was nothing horrible, but a few seconds always had to be devoted to nudging her into a better position. When it came time for Rarity to mess with her sewing pins, a wave of tension always tightened up Fluttershy's body. They caused minute tremors that never went away until the pins were gone. Ultimately still a lovely help.

(She had pricked her once, a long time ago, and Rarity had never forgiven herself.)

Dash and Pinkie could be squished into the same tier, because they held many similar... 'quirks'. Almost impossible to keep them still, and vocal to the point of distraction. In fairness to Pinkie, she was very earnest, and of course kind. She wasn't a great model, but she surely enjoyed helping out. Dash, more often than not, would groan and grumble if the outfit didn't immediately seem interesting to her. Even in the situations where the outfit did interest her, her impatience would eventually rear its head.

Spike couldn't be ranked, not exactly. It was rare for him to model for her out of necessity, and more just for sparks of inspiration for an outfit she'd imagined for him. In the area of assisting her while she worked with somepony else, he was quite the dutiful little dragon.

Applejack...

At some point Applejack had become the hardest for her to work with.

By all rights, she wasn't a bad model. Like Rainbow Dash, standing still wasn't exactly something she preferred. When she couldn't hide her discomfort she'd do a tiny prance in place, which would in turn force Rarity to pull away and allow her to regather herself. But in the interims before and after that she was exemplary, never needing her poses corrected or moving around too often. She was unfathomably sturdy.

("Careful now with those pins, Rares."

"Goodness, did I prick you? You hadn't so much as flinched so I didn't even realize. Forgive me."

An easy-going smile and good natured shrug. "S'alright, hon.")

It was almost comical, one of the other friends she most preferred to have at hoof for her work was by and far the least interested in joining in, or would be outright too busy to do so. As they'd grown closer she accepted Rarity's requests more, but the farm beckoned, and it ultimately came down to how willing she was to spend a few precious hours of her day standing around.

In the end, Applejack was amongst Twilight and Fluttershy in being her go-tos when she needed a live pony to work on.

Applejack wasn't the problem. Or, perhaps, she was.

"I'll need to measure your neck. Head up, please."

"Allllrighty."

At Rarity's behest, her head tipped backward. The long column of her throat laid bare to Rarity, and the unicorn wasted no time in stepping forward with her tape measure and fabric.

There was a certain allure in necks. After years of accentuating them via clothing and jewelry, Rarity felt she had a rather strong idea of what an attractive neck looked like. It was a silly thing to say, by itself, but many ponies couldn't see the entirety of the part they played in a pony's aestheticism. There was nothing innately attractive in a neck that was too long, nor in a neck that was too thin. A balance need to be found in the shape, the size, to work in tandem not with just the head but the front half of a pony's body entirely.

Rarity lifted a hoof and, keeping her expression blank, gently settled it on Applejack's throat.

She was warm. It wasn't cold in the boutique, but the feel of fur sent a pleasant current of heat up her arm. Her hoof slid down, almost settling onto her breast. Instead, she stopped and lifted up the fabric with her magic, and began to wrap it around Applejack's neck.

Applejack's neck was— pleasing. In contrast to how powerful a worker she was, it was not bulky. It was larger around then her own (or any of their other friend's, for that matter), but not in such a way that it would make her look too overly muscled. It was longer than Rarity's too, something the average eye could easily miss. Stretched like it was then, Rarity realized even the small curve of the slope it made when Applejack tilted her head back was dazzling.

Sometimes, when her mind escaped her, Rarity imagined that neck adorned in various accessories. Scarves, neckties. Necklaces, chokers. She imagined what exactly could make that already perfect neck flawless. It thrilled her to no end to imagine being able to decorate it with the rare designs and ideas that she could never seem to get right when developing them alone. Applejack would be able to dress up in colors that Rarity could personally never hope to pull off in fear of nightmarish clashing.

"I'll do your legs, now," Rarity said softly.

"Gotcha."

Her head tipped back down and she straightened herself up while Rarity moved to her side. Just like before, there was no hesitation in the movement of Rarity's hoof. She settled it right atop Applejack's cutie mark, and, slowly trailed her way downward.

"I'm considering the idea of having the dress run higher in the back, and lower underneath. There's an entire design that needs to be tied into the tail and I think that would better help emphasize it, just a touch."

"Mm." She could see the subtle motion of Applejack nodding from the corner of her eye. "My opinion? Long as it don't mean no stumblin' while tryin' to walk, sounds fine. Though I figure ya already was thinkin' about that, of course?"

"Please. What do you take me for, darling? I," She draped a sheet of fabric across Applejack's back, carefully looping it underneath her stomach so she could adjust it into the basic shape she had in mind for the dress. With a low exhale, she slipped her hoof beneath the fabric and began to run it against the inner side of Applejack's hock and gaskin. "...Know exactly what I'm doing."

She could feel the subtlest twitch beneath her hoof as she pressed and stroked. Not too hard, not for too long. Every now and again she'd lay her tape measure against the length of her leg, or curl it around it horizontally. All the while she only thought of the stockings she had envisioned going with the outfit. She wondered if they were really needed, or if she ought to forego them instead. It was hard to imagine the ensemble without them, they were there to flavorfully accentuate what you could see of the hind-legs of the pony wearing them, were you to focus on them.

It would be an outfit that would look good on Applejack.

Applejack had nice legs.

They were muscular, that was a given, but the shape of them; they were a good length, thicker than average but nothing grotesque. In truth her entire back-half was well-made, holding a subtle, soft shapeliness that influenced just how pleasing she looked in motion or otherwise. It was a near miracle, a mare with a nature as physical as hers being able to have such strength and not be burdened with the typical, bulky form side-effect. You could feel her muscles easily when you ran your hooves across her body, but a cursory glance made you assume she was just an 'active' mare and nothing more.

It drove her to madness that Applejack did not see herself for what she was. She had been born blessed with all the right cards, physically. Why had it fallen to her to shine a light on that fact? Why couldn't she just see she was so...

(In the past, Rarity had picked up a light muscle training regimen out of sheer curiosity for the results. To her horror, she realized she built up muscle quite similarly to her father. She abandoned the whole idea once she noticed how easily her forelegs had thickened, how her shoulders had broadened.)

"Alright...! Forgive me, I'm done with your legs now."

"Was wonderin' what was goin' on. Thought you were figurin' I wasn't a great choice for this one, or somethin'. Bucky 'n Kicks givin' you trouble?"

"Oh, no! Nothing of the sort. Just trying to figure out how I'd like to go about the leggings that go alongside this. I apologize if I was making you uncomfortable, I fell a little too deeply into my thinking."

"Ya know how many times you've done this? Ain't no sweat."

"You really are too kind, Applejack. Well then," Rarity fought down the compulsion to give a hearty pat to Applejack's thigh and rose. "I'll be doing your tail, now, and after that we'll be finished."

Rather than respond, Applejack let her tail droop. Rarity wasted no time in moving behind her and lifting it with her magic. She stretched it out, raising it somewhere around her chest. The tail accessory was a bow ribbon that would wind its tails around the, well, tail, and tie into another bow at the end. Thus, the outfit obviously needed to be worn by mares with hair of suitable length. Ultimately Rarity just needed to figure out how it ought to be tied. Tight, so the tails of the ribbons had little room? Should they be loose?

Floating a roll of silver ribbon over, she made a neat little bow right at the top of Applejack's tail. She switched from holding her tail with her aura to lifting it with a raised hoof, and began to wind and unwind the ribbon's tails in various ways with her magic. Applejack's tail was a nice, fluffy warmth in her grasp. It was such a pleasing shade of blonde, and so voluminous! How could she stand to keep it tied up in such simple ways?

(Once, Applejack had let Rarity style her mane after she'd had an especially unpleasant customer. Call it a compulsion, but Rarity ended up more interested in seeing if Applejack had any non-blonde strands, somewhere. She didn't. Rarity had been shocked. Meanwhile, she had to meticulously hunt down and viciously pluck the inherited brown strands that hid away in her mane.)

She didn't think it necessary to pour hours of devotion into her mane and tail. Didn't feel the compulsion to gather strengthening gels and sprays. How was that fair? To have such beauty at the ready and feel not a touch of desire to see it borne into the world? Where was the disconnection?

"I think wrapping one tail of the ribbon to the left and the other to the right leads to a nice look. Simple, too. Applejack, my dear, I do believe we're done."

"Hoo-wee!" The moment Rarity stepped back, Applejack was in motion. She shook like a dog and leapt down off the podium. She kicked her left hindleg, kicked her right, then rolled her neck around. Finally content that she'd done enough to re-awaken her body, she turned to Rarity.

"Charming," Rarity said with an arched brow and faint smile.

"Ain't I always?" Applejack adjusted her hat with an easy grin. "Ya need anythin' else?"

Rarity gently rapped a hoof against her chin as she thought. "Mmm... no, sadly. Though I don't suppose you'd like to stay and help me start sewing things together?"

"Suppose I could, but only if you're alright with my main experience bein' quilts?"

"Oh! Oh that's... er, thank you anyway, Applejack."

Applejack's smile somehow grew wider, openly affectionate and forever affable. "Heh. Ain't no problem, Rares. I'll jus' head on home, then."

Somewhere within her chest, she felt a slight pain as more of Applejack's perfectly aligned, pearl white teeth were revealed to her. It slid its way downward and settled in her stomach like a spiked ball.

(Rarity had to be careful, sometimes, in pictures. When she grinned too large, or stretched her mouth too wide. On occasion she'd look— strange.)

When Applejack was gone, Rarity looked over her design sketch. Her eyebrows drew together as she stared down at it, the creative high finally sobering. Hardly any of it came together coherently, like it was nothing more than a hodge-podge of pretty ideas, rather then a comprehensive whole. She certainly couldn't imagine herself in it, and if she couldn't imagine herself making it look good, then who else could ever hope to—

She stuffed her drawing into a drawer full of similarly side-lined ideas, ascended the stairs, and disappeared into her room.