-The Get Chapter 7-

- The Get Chapter 7 -

Standing outside the Boutique's door, hesitation was beginning to rise though you. With no idea as to why, you firmly remind yourself that you're a free individual who can do what they want. Right? Still, it'd be nice to avoid more drama today.

Eventually you decide to take the tactical approach of sneaking in - Rarity might already be asleep and not notice this late arrival. Would be win-win, you get to avoid her, she gets to avoid you.

Placing a tender hand on the door (the other clutching the apple pie), you slowly begin to push open the door with as little force as physically possible. To your utter dismay, just as the door creaks open revealing the Boutique's interior, the shop bell overhead tinkles. Balls, you had completely forgot about that.

As you freeze in place at the sound, the door is now ajar. Heart pounding hard for 10 seconds, no one shows up. Maybe you got away with this?

Throwing caution to the wind you slip inside, turning around to silently close the door.

"So you gracefully decide to show up?" comes a voice from behind your back.

Here we go.

Slowly swiveling on the spot, you turn to see Rarity. She's sitting at the table in the kitchen area, dressed in her gown drinking a hot mug of something.

Just play it cool.

You walk into the kitchen, depositing the pie on the worktop. Next thing you know, your head is under the sink tap gulping as much water as you can manage. Thirst is unbearable.

-

Rarity gives a rather bemused look at the sudden tap-gargling. Dignity lost, you just keep on gulping down mouthfuls of fresh, cool water. Lesson learned from this experience: Don't attempt dehydration.

Liquid now sloshing around inside you, the excess gulped air escapes in a rather wet burp. That felt amazing, so full of water you don't feel hungry anymore.

"Have... have you not eaten since this morning?" Rarity's concern seems to outshine her grumpy exterior.

You shrug.

"You're an absolute mess" she says disapprovingly, eyeing up the mud on your clothes, ruffled hair and rather grubby skin.

Sounds like she was starting to arm the cannons. Sure enough,

"And what time to do call this? Some of us have a bed to go to and a business to run! I can't lockup until you're in."

So she wanted to yell at you again? Okay. Ready to take it full on, you sit down at the table looking at her directly.

Her resolve falters as she looks at you.

"You smell rather iffy too" she weakly accuses. You just laugh silently. Now that you were indoors and face-to-face, it was hard to feel intimidated or scared, especially after a rather somber evening with Applejack.

She seemed to be trying too hard to get fired up and upset at you. The whole reason there was a rift between you both in the first place was because Rarity stormed off earlier. You don't see why you should take the blame for anything.

-

There's silence at the table as you stubbornly sit opposite each other. Taking a sip from her hot chocolate, Rarity tries desperately to find something else to complain about.

"I decided that since you were off doing your own thing I'd finish off those curtains you were taking so long to do."

You weren't sure how you felt about that. You were actually kind of looking forward to going back and finishing it together after the disastrous first attempt. Though if she just went ahead and did it... Why did she have to be so matter-of-fact about it?

As you can't respond to any of this, you just give Rarity a defeated look. Even if she was just fishing for a reaction, what could you do at this point in time?

The silence rings loudly in your ears. Feeling lost on what to do, and with the awkwardness making you both feel uneasy, you firmly stand up and decide to head to the shower - might as well do something useful.

At your receding back, Rarity calls.

"That's it?"

That's it? What was she expecting?

With another shrug, you give her a look of contempt. She doesn't like that at all, scrunching up her face. Time for tears?

"Okay, okay! Fine. I admit it. I'm jealous." she blurts out.

This catches you by surprise - Jealous of what? Spending time with AJ? You don't get it.

"You're my responsibility and guest here, and I just want to make sure that your time is sufficient!" she fires up.

-

This attitude completely contrasted with every single thing Rarity had said at the beginning of last week, where she had been almost always ill-tempered towards you. You guess that after learning about the challenges approaching in the coming month - alongside all the various acts of drama - she was feeling sympathetic.

You hover in the middle of the kitchen, not sure if you can leave yet or if she still had more to say. She lets out a sigh, and continues.

"Ah, look. It's because Applejack has already done the whole mentoring thing. She won't discuss it with anyone, and it just rubs me the wrong way that now it's my turn to mentor she's trying to get involved."

Seems like Rarity believed that AJ was forcing you to visit Apple Acres, when that wasn't the case at all. Wires were being crossed, and you had to put a stop to it.

You approach Rarity, and just as you raise a hand to pat her head, she backs away.

"No! No dirty hooves please!" she begs looking at your blackened hands.

With a deliberate eye-roll, you give her a smile. She returns a rather sheepish one as you head upstairs to get cleaned up.

The shower was as euphoric as ever. The steamy water caressed your form as you gently scrubbed dirt out from the worst places, including the new 'under-boob' area. Gotta learn proper feminine hygiene at some point, you suppose.

Bumbling out of the bathroom draped in a towel, you're accosted by Rarity. She's hovering a comb and scissors, her expression menacing.

-

You look at her, seeing a majestic gleam in her eye as she stares at your head. Oh no.

The rest of that night was spent struggling against Rarity. After begging and pleading from both sides, you finally give up - You really could use the cut, after all.

It's the wee hours of the morning, but that doesn't seem to distract Rarity a bit. Now that she's combed your freshly laundered hair flat, she begins to focus her efforts on planning a style. You sit there passively, succumbing to weakness from lack of proper food.

As Rarity begins combing and snipping, she reassures you how fantastic and dashing you'll look at the end of it. Barely listening, sleep steadily begins to dominate your mind. Your eyelids keep drooping beyond any control, brain zoning out and not listening to a single word spoken.

A little voice at the back of your head protests, telling you that if you go to sleep you're just dooming yourself to more changes. You understand the concern but as you try to struggle the grooming of your head just felt too good. Rarity certainly knows what she's doing as the scissors expertly snip around your ears.

You don't know how much longer the styling and grooming continues as you doze off on the chair. Your last thoughts were about apple pie, as your stomach burns with excess acid.

Waking up later, it's already the next day. It seems Rarity couldn't move you, so instead put a blanket around you. You feel your head, hair short again. It's a refreshing feeling.

-

The next 3 days promptly fly by. Still voiceless, you learn to cope with it by creating a routine: Morning sewing with Rarity; Afternoon tea at Twilight's; Hard working until evening at AJ's; finished off with some board games with Rarity (Turns out she really loves playing Manepoly - though is too generous for her own good.)

Keeping yourself busy was the best solution - You forget your sorrows and just try to embrace life for what it now is, all the while bonding with your new friends.

Applejack seems to have cheered up from the depression she displayed on your first work night. Annoyingly, she has begun to treat you like a helpless invalid due to being mute. She knew that it really wasn't the case, but still smiled slyly when you waved your arms in protest.

Twilight was slowly starting to grow on you, too. While she still acted 'know-it-all' and remained awkward, she did know some interesting facts about Equestria. Her library was filled with some of the most fascinating books, allowing you to borrow them whenever you wanted to try distract your mind. Distract it from hunger.

Yeah, despite all this busyness, you were still limiting meals to an absolute minimum. Drinking and sleep were essential, otherwise you'd make yourself seriously ill. Hell, you already felt permanently exhausted, but you didn't really feel like bringing it to anyone's attention.

For each day passed, you couldn't deny the steadily growing fear. Each day was a day closer to your demise.

-

Reaching the end of another tiring day, you're comfortably sitting with Rarity playing an intense game of Manepoly. It was essentially identical to the Monopoly you knew back on Earth, but with locations like Manehatten and Fillydephia. Rarity was a terrible player, but her reactions of pure excitement at dice rolls were pretty cute. You enjoyed this bonding, feeling much more emotionally stable this week than you had previously.

With the usual silent good-night wave to Rarity, you scuff up the stairs. Body aching with each step, you couldn't help feeling pleased with yourself. Maybe you could survive in Equestria after all, if you just keep yourself busy. That's what humans like doing: being productive. Even sewing was less of a bore if you chatted away to Rarity.

Snuggled warmly into the futon, you try to have deep philosophical conversations with yourself. It's just not happening anymore. Could you finally be accepting this all? You dwell on these thoughts, mind slowly fogging over.

You're at Apple Acres, and it's another sweltering day with AJ and Big Mac. For some reason, you seem to be taken with the latter. You can't explain why, but you can't stop looking at him. He's so much bigger than you remember, you barely reach his chest. He's so muscular, you just want to...

You jerk awake. Where the fuck did that dream come from?

Ignoring it, you turn over before feeling a rather unfamiliar leaking sensation. Idly scratching your crotch, you're greeted with a red ooze.

-

Mind still groggy in the darkness, you pause. Something seems to be stuck to your thigh, but with Rarity's new curtains installed there's no light helping you identify what. Being too difficult to see anything, you rub the sticky spot on your leg slightly being greeted by a semi-clotted wetness. Huh...

Sitting up now, you bring your hand to your face. The room is too dim to really see what the source of the mess was, but you see that whatever you've smeared has darkened your hand. Rather cautiously, you take a sniff. Well it's not what you thought it was, but is that... blood? Did you hurt yourself?

With your clean hand, you gently pull back a curtain to let moonlight fill the little area below the window. Immediately you see crimson spots littered on the lilac futon sheets, also covering your PJs and hand. Out of sudden horror, your eyes hastily scan the ceiling to make sure there wasn't any dripping mutilated corpses above you. The darkness mixed with hunger and exhaustion was playing cruel tricks on your mind.

After ruling out hallucinations, you start to get pretty concerned. What hell was bleeding? Relying on your senses in the darkness, you tune into your brain to see if anything feels wrong. Fingers feel fine, toes feel fine, legs and arms feel fine, and yet... during all this movement there was something you couldn't feel flopping around.

At this, the true nature of the situation suddenly clicks in your mind.

-

Oh no, oh please no.

Squirming frantically you wiggle out of your PJ bottoms which, under the moonlight, were stained rather heavily. With a shaking hand, you desperately rub the full area of your crotch. It's totally flat. The area that your member once occupied was now empty. This is very bad.

In panic you fiercely try to flex the muscles in that area which you've known for so, so long. While you can imagine the movement in your brain, there's no connection. You're not contracting anything there anymore.

Trembling all over now, your breathing starts coming in short busts as alarm and confusion begins to cloud your mind. You must find the source of bleeding, just... to make sure. Maybe something bit your dick off in the night.

Slowly lowering your hand into your inner thighs, your fingertips meet a sticky slipperiness instantly identifying where the blood had come from. It makes you feel absolutely nauseated. You're a guy! Guy's don't... don't... menstruate...

Thinking that causes you to let out a disgusted squeak. Now this catches you off-guard, and rather foolishly you clasp a bloody hand to your mouth. Ignoring the fine mess you were making, you try clearing your throat. It seems like the ol' larynx was back from its vacation, but had lost a few pounds in the process.

Distracted, you try humming in your throat. It doesn't feel right, seemly unable to reach the right level of bass. Timidly, you speak out loud:

"I'm a guy-"

Hands fly to your throat.

-

That certainly wasn't the voice of a guy, hell it wasn't a voice you recognized period. Period?

Your mind reels back to the situation at hand. What were you going to do? You can't sleep in this mess, it's just too foul to even consider. There's no spare PJs to change into though, and you weren't sure if you'd ever be able to clean the blood out of the futon sheets.

There's nothing else for it, you need to go to the bathroom. Recalling your rather petty knowledge of female biology, doesn't this whole thing last around 5 days? Fuck. Why couldn't you just become the pony to avoid this humiliation?

Putting a tender hand between your thighs, you get up and awkwardly waddle out of the room - You don't want to make more mess. Brushing your hand over that area caused goosebumps, though not the good kind.

Tumbling into the bathroom, you quickly bolt the door. You have no idea what time it is, but the last thing you need is a concerned Rarity - That'd just amplify this embarrassing situation tenfold.

With proper lighting, you glance at yourself in the mirror. Ever since the ghastly sighting of the 'tattoo' on your hips, you had avoided your reflection as much as physically possible, not even admiring the haircut Rarity had given you. It was all fueled by the rather weak mentality of "What you can't see won't hurt you."

Well now it was hurting you in full force. It wasn't you looking back in the mirror - It was a slightly skinny girl with your eyes and facial features.

-

Internally you shout yourself down - you're a guy! It's impossible for you to be anything else. While turning the shower on to heat up, you stand in bask of your reflection. The harsh truth was that you weren't looking like a guy anymore, but rather a weak-kneed, completely lost female.

Peeling your eyes away from this dismal sight and clambering into the shower, it's time to refresh yourself. The mess that you'd unwillingly made was beginning to congeal in a nasty manner and being a person who slept on their back you weren't used to having fluids drip through your butt. Ugh, you shudder just thinking about what girls put up with.

Cleaning off your thighs was an easy affair. In fact, it drew your attention to the lack of hair there. By nature you were always rather hairy, shedding into your carpet and keyboard back home - much to other's disgust. Now though, your skin was smooth and silky. In spite of yourself, you can't help admiring your legs.

Perhaps the thigh wash was going on a bit longer than necessary, but you weren't sure you were quite ready to deal with... 'that' yet. Being the male you were, you were obviously attracted to female anatomy, but seeing it on yourself though was a completely different experience. You -could- probably grow to like it, but rationally you shouldn't really want that.

Detaching the shower-head, you shamefully spread your legs. This will thoroughly clean that area, right?

-

It was dawning on you that you were pretty useless at feminine hygiene, though that's to be expected really. Awkwardly averting your eyes, you turn the shower-head towards your newly formed privates.

Bracing slightly, the jet of water hits you. You give a little gasp as you experience a rather unexpected tickling sensation. It crosses your mind that you were doing the stereotypical shower-head-to-vag scenario you'd seen before in those questionable hentai comics, though it wasn't really a sexual experience, just... pleasant. Hmm maybe it'd be a good idea to get your mind out of this grim path.

With the last of the pink-colored water gone, you step out. Quickly drying up, you had to endure the next problem - What to wear? Supposing you could revert to home-made boxers and digging out that old dressing gown, you unlock the bathroom door just as a nagging feeling finally gets through to your brain - You need to pee.

At least, you think you did. It didn't feel the same as it did as a guy, and more worryingly you don't think you can really hold it for longer. With a shorter urethra comes great consequence. You cave, not wanting to make another spectacular mess.

Rarity's toilet gleams at you as you approach, almost in a mocking manner. Taking your usual standing position, the obvious dawns on you - You can't really pee standing anymore. This sudden disabling of an ability you took for granted hit you much harder than you'd have liked to admit.

-

Face beginning to flush for reasons you could only describe as deep shame, you sit down. This was your life now. Peeing sitting down. All due to a shitpost on a fucking imageboard. You bury your face in your hands ruffling your hair in frustration. This was -so- fucked up.

Finishing your business, you stand feeling alienated. You take a few wads of toilet paper, as you guess you need something to stop the red river. Just thinking about it makes the back of your neck prickle.

Embracing the cold hallway, you quickly slide into the darkness that is your room. Hitting the light, you start searching for some clothes that aren't white. Black. Gotta be black. To your dismay, all of the boxers Rarity had made were white. Fuck.

Deciding to bite the bullet, you grab a pair, step into them, and awkwardly place the toilet paper in the middle. This will never work, but it's the best solution you can do for the middle of the night. As for the ruined futon...

You glance over to your sleeping corner-turned-blood-cacoon, not really wanting to go back to it. You'd inadvertently ruined it with your stupid girl body. Whipping on the dressing gown that really was too big for you now, you slowly slink to the floor trying sit in a suitable position.

Well, there was one advantage to having this new female anatomy - Now you don't need to readjust yourself when you cross your legs. It's such a weird feeling, nothing there to get crushed anymore.

So... was all that emotion last week PMS? Now that's awkward, you think to yourself.

-

The reality of it all was starting to close in on you, causing your chest to clench. The shock was delayed, but now it was taking a firm hold of your imagination. You sat there contemplating what life would be like from this point onward; new possibilities dancing in your mind. For example, you could now bear children, fully equipped for being a mother. The very concept of this is absolutely terrifying, yet if you really are a girl, it's entirely conceivable. This quickly turned into sour thoughts - one day you'll become an wrinkly old lady, just like your grandma. It was too nasty to even start imagining.

Abruptly, without even processing what you were doing, you suddenly yank at your breasts trying to remove them. This joke has gone on long enough, time to get all this shit off. It fails, so you start scratching at your smooth skin as your beasts throb painfully for a few moments. You weren't sure if they were already feeling swollen or if you'd just caused it to happen. Attacking your hair next - which was much lighter shade than your usual brown - a pitiful yelp escapes your lips. The noise causes a surge of rage and remorse at how stupid and childish you sounded; it was like your prepubescentm, 12-year-old voice had been restored.

The frantic movement of the mini freak-out dislodges a small red leak from your ever-loving vulva, making you stop dead. Hasty short breaths escape you, only adding insult to injury by sounding identical to an amateur porn video

-

Cupping your crotch so the leak didn't escape, you lie back against the wall panting and shivering - despite being wrapped in the cozy dressing gown. Slowly your eyes wander, and you can't stop them as they rest on your rather flat-looking pubis. This is some fuck right here you think to yourself, placing a cold hand on the smooth firm area as if double-checking this was all really happening. You hand brushes the flat surface, before curving down, down... further than it physically should. For your whole life this area was barricaded proudly by your junk, but now it just keeps on curving all the way around...

You stop, realizing that you were essentially groping yourself in the crotch. The male section of your brain burns with curiosity, longing to explore. Yet, you feel hesitant about poking around at the moment in case another ungodly mess of blood unleashes and you get caught red-handed.

What a wonderful gift: nature's way of saying you can finally create a family is by spewing uterus lining all over your bed. You absentmindedly rub your lower gut, trying to dislodge a strange feeling inside. It felt like you had a case of trapped gas, but it was feeling more... dull?

A gargle distracts you, apparently your stomach's attempt at whining. Well, it's clear to you now that near-starvation didn't help slow this transformation down at all, so might as well go stuff your face. What's the worst that could happen?

-

Silently, you tip-toe down the stairs with the gown trailing behind you. First port of call: Fridge. As you steadily walk across the kitchen, you try and distract your mind from the blatant lack of obstruction between your legs as they brushed together. It's feels so weird not carrying that little bit of extra weight around anymore...

Stopping your hand from idly groping yourself again, you wrench open the fridge to be greeted by the dinky light. A quick stock check sets your mind on fire. Hot damn, you'd completely forgotten about that apple pie Applejack gave you! Time to fuckin' demolish that shit. There's eggs here too, and fruit and juice! The delicious waft of food was going straight to your head; you were totally ravenous and slightly drooling.

Quickly checking the clock, it's 4am. You pause, frowning. You can't have been asleep for more than 6 hours, and yet you were sure you were still male when you'd snuggled into bed. Trying not to imagine what the forming of female genitalia would have looked like in real time, you crack two eggs to start making an omelette. You wince slightly, saying a silent prayer for your now departed testicles.

Pouring out some fresh fruit juice and prepping the apple pie for eating, you felt exhaustion ebb away. The vapors of the meal-to-come had restarted your engine.

Although making a mini-feast at 4am probably wasn't the wisest move, you didn't care about anything anymore. You had a vagina; everything else was invalid.

-

Sizzling up the delicious smelling omelette and practically cramming it whole down your eager throat, you gag at trying to eat something proper again. Your stomach doesn't expect a sudden delivery this late (or early), dangerously bubbling as the omelette squishes its way down. While this was incredibly stupid, fuck it! You deserved food, you could have kids now!

Faulty and flawed reasoning aside, you completely lose yourself. Days of agonizing hunger had summoned a ferocious demon inside you which could not be tamed; apparently having a massive fetish for food. With the omelette already destroyed, the apple pie welcomes you with it's shiny foil base. Without even considering using a spoon or fork, you boldly plant your hands into the pie scooping handfuls into your face in the utmost disgusting fashion imaginable. It was so glorious that you even started tearing up. God this pie is just so good you loved everything about it and you adored AJ for giving it to you and and and...

Ignoring the positively alarming feminine gasps and gulps which were escaping you, you relentlessly continued murdering the pie. The only pauses were for hearty swigs of juice, getting the glass covered in pie-hands.

After days of disuse, your stomach goes into over-drive. Feeling utterly bloated, you weakly take a seat at the table resting your head in your hands. Pie was essentially everywhere now, so who cares if it got into your hair? Fuck it, you might as well lick your hands clean.

-

And you do. Your sticky, soiled hands tremble as you softly lick your palms, beginning to service each finger one by one into your mouth. This felt so wrong, and yet, you couldn't stop. The golden gel of the pie was literally the tastiest thing you'd ever had the pleasure of eating in your life. Whether this was due to actual quality of the product or the sudden delirious cravings in your brain, you had no clue. All that was important was that it didn't waste a drop.

As you unwillingly let out little moans of approval, the kitchen light abruptly flicks on. Your heart stops dead; your body instantly paralyzed. With your ring finger still stuffed greedily into your mouth, eyes wide in shock, you slowly swivel round in your seat to face the source. Rarity was standing there, with the look of utmost revulsion on her face.

There'd never ever been a silence more uncomfortable than that one, and you'd experienced -a lot- of uncomfortable silences these past 2 weeks. Rarity doesn't seem to be processing any new information, her facial expression frozen as she stares into space, head tilted with eyelid twitching.

Heart thumping, mind racing, you start to panic. The food had completely overpowered you, now realizing the whole table, your face, hair and gown were covered in apple pie. As you swiftly remove the finger out of your mouth with a little pop, you're about to call out to Rarity before - she swoons to the ground, fainting gracefully.

-

Well this a pretty weird situation. Was Rarity joking around, or did she literally faint at the sight of you fiendishly devouring pie? Obviously the first - Rarity doesn't know what a joke is.

With a light sigh you rise from the table - You were enjoying that feast, why couldn't it last a bit longer? Though you suppose it'd be a bit unfitting to leave Rarity slumped on the floor like this. Briefly rinsing your hands in the sink, you head to the foot of the stairs to see the helpless pony.

So what's the best way to aid a faint victim? In fact, what's the recovery position for ponies? Shit, you were useless at this. In all fairness, your best efforts weren't being reflected after she disturbed you. Plus, knowing Rarity, she'd be roused in a few seconds and continue screaming again.

Kneeling down, you poke Rarity in the side. She doesn't budge, so for Plan B you lightly shake her quietly saying her name.

"Rarity... hey, Rarity..." you mumble, trying to ignore the pitch of your unfamiliar voice.

After a minute, there's a stir - Rarity groggily opens her eye. Just as you welcome her to the land of the living, she lets out a scream. Fucking called it.

Leaping up onto her hooves and frantically scanning the darkness, she then gives you an exasperated look.

"Did you see them!?" she demands, giant eyes focused on you. "Oh of course, you've got not voice. I'm sorry my Dear, I keep forgetting."

With the shame of your new voice fresh in your mind, you don't correct her.

-

Oddly, Rarity gives you a quick hug with her foreleg. You don't fight it, rather clumsily patting the back of her neck. You may have shrank a few inches during your time in Equestia but she was still a little pony, barely taller than your legs.

"Oh thank heavens you're safe! Are you hurt? I heard it all from upstairs," she begins, "I was having the most terrifying, foul dream before I was rudely awoken by banging and clattering downstairs. In my haste, I ignored it simply assuming it'd be you." She gives you a timid look "I know you've been dieting quite hard for the past few days so thought I'd turn a blind eye to your midnight snacking."

Pfft, is that really what she believed?

"But then..." she continues, her face falling dramatically, "The NOISES!"

At her emphasis on the last word, you give her bemused look. You were interested to see where this was going though.

"Oh it was dreadful! I could hear the most revolting and barbaric noises imaginable! Snarling, gagging! It was so obvious that a pack of Timberwolves had broken into the Boutique and were attacking you, I panicked!"

Normally you'd laugh, but Rarity's breathing is close to hyperventilation-level, making you uneasy. Kneeling down, you give her a proper hug around the neck which she accepts softly.

"When I cantered out of bed I checked your room, but the futon was empty with just BLOOD! My worst fears were confirmed!"

Now your face falls dramatically - You weren't ready to explain that shit yet.

-

There's a pause while Rarity steels herself, calming down and catching her breath. You're at a loss at what to do; maybe playing this off as a Timberwolf attack would be the more favorable explanation, despite it making no sense. Rarity seemed to be confusing her dream with reality but you weren't going to argue with it. It was better than admitting you were literally hand-shoving pie into your mouth a few minutes ago.

"When I came downstairs I could see movement in the dark." Rarity starts up again, her voice full of fear. "I was petrified at what I might see; and after descending the last step, reaching for the light... it got all too much. Next I know, you're being a brave dear and checking on me." She smiles softly.

So she didn't actually see you at the table? Thank God. Celestia. Whomever it may concern. You might just keep your dignity after all.

Yawning, Rarity rubs her face with a little snuffle. You glance at the clock, realizing it's now 5am. No wonder she's acting all weird and tired. With a pout, Rarity flumps her rear onto the floor, giving you a rather groveling look. Her massive eyes sparkle in the dim kitchen light, exaggerating her pathetic demeanor.

"Can you fetch ittle-bittle Rarity a glass of water pweeeese?" she coos in a rather sickening mock-baby voice. You nod.

Hastily grabbing a glass out of the cupboard, your still-damp hand fails to grip. Overshooting the re-grab, you accidentally knock the glass flying.

"Fuck" you blurt out.

-

You hand flies to your mouth faster than the glass hurdles to the ground; the latter shattering brilliantly on impact. The sound of breaking glass echos through the room, seemingly amplified by the tiled floor. That'd certainly wake the house, if they weren't all up.

Cringing at the agonizing noise, you slowly cast your gaze down to the glittering fragments of glass. How could you have fucked up 3 things at once? And so badly, at that? Swearing in front of Rarity again, revealing your stupid voice and destroying her property.

With a grimace, feeling pure woe, you turn around. Rarity's once large shining eyes had now constricted considerably, her stare fixated on you. Her expression slackens. What was going through her mind?

"...Did you just speak?" comes her eventual steady voice. There's no emotion conveyed.

Hand still firmly over your lips, you nod slowly.

"Can you speak for me again?" she asks.

No, you didn't want to. This high voice wasn't you, and it really made your toes curl thinking you were stuck with it. Internally it sounds like you are permanently exhaling helium.

"Please?" she half-begs.

No, you shake your head. No way.

Rarity's begging gets more assertive, beginning to frustrate you to all hell. It was like being asked to sing on the spot to a song you barely knew.

With one last nag, you cave.

"Please Rarity, stop begging me." you whine. You embrace for her retort.

"Oh my Dear..." Rarity gasps looking awe-struck, "Your voice is beautiful!"

-

You don't know how to take this compliment. Initially it makes your skin crawl; this is wasn't your voice at all! Yet a small part of you feels flattered by Rarity's words.

"R-really?" you ask seeking reassurance. The swearing incident was apparently going unnoticed for now.

"Oh yes, I do! You sound so... elegant. Like a true lady!" Rarity beams as you, "Much nicer than, forgive me, that dull male grumble you had before."

Ouch, that was a rather low blow. Little point in getting upset over it now, though.

Carefully collecting a new glass, you fill it with water and promptly pass it to Rarity. As she accepts it via her horn's magic she eyes you up.

"So are you quite alright? What's happened to your voice? And what was the source of that blood?" she inquires with a nervous look.

You pause at this question, not sure if you wanted to answer it truthfully.

"I-I don't know... " you lie eventually. You knew exactly what was up, you were fully female now. However, saying this out loud to another person was too much - As if permanently confirming your fate. Besides, it was an awkward experience for you on a social level; how do you explain to another female that you suddenly became their gender?

As your voice tails off listlessly, Rarity sits rubbing her chin with her eyes still focused on you.

"You know, that gown really is frightfully loose on you now, isn't it? Let me find my measuring tape."

-

"Look Rarity", you interject as she starts searching for her trusty tape, "it's the middle of the night. I'm tired, you're practically sleepwalking, what say we head to bed?"

She doesn't respond, immersed in a world of her own.

Cautiously you step back trying not to impale your feet on broken glass. As always, it was too early to put up with this crap. It feels like it's been years since you last had a proper night's sleep, and while your eyes burned and stomach cramped, it looked like you weren't going to get a full rest today either.

"We're both already up so we might as well embrace the day. Now please be a sweetheart and stay still..." Rarity instructs, measuring tape now floating menacingly.

"Can we at least clean this glass up?" you say weakly in an attempt to distract her. Rarity effortlessly brushes the chunks of glass aside with magic, and with a slight jingle the mess is gently deposited into the bin. So much for that.

Before you get a chance to run, your dressing gown is whipped off by Rarity's magic exposing your bare chest. Without really thinking about it, you cover up your breasts to prevent any indecency. Strange, this wasn't an issue before...

"Don't cross your arms like that! I need to measure your arm length and chest width" comes Rarity's stern voice. She's seemingly oblivious to human modesty.

"Rarity please..." you start to pathetically whine, before she pulls your arms apart with another glow of magic. Fucking unicorns.

-

"Stop being stubborn dear, it's very unfitting for a lady." she starts up, stubbornly pressing cold tape to your skin.

"But I'm not a lady! I'm a man!" you retort.

"A man you say? But men don't have such luscious hips as these now, do they?" Rarity says with a sly smile. "If hooman anatomy is anything like pony anatomy, you'll be able to make some big strong foals."

"Human, Rarity, HU-man! And what do you mean..." you say, heart sinking at her words. Look down, you hadn't really felt a difference in your hips while wearing elastic-fitting boxers. Now that you were thinking about it though... Shit. They WERE wider. Idly you rub your hand over the left-side, feeling the new curve. Why hadn't you noticed earlier in the bathroom? Suppose there were more immediate distractions.

"Now don't start moving again!" Rarity protests at you wandering arm, "I'm still taking measurements!"

Just as a fresh surge of emotion causes you to inadvertently clench your fist on your hip, a swift force of glittering blue tries to move your hand. As a result, the boxers are pulled slightly revealing the tip of "20".

Eyes quickly darting to Rarity, it's clear she saw that. Her measuring tape hangs idle before flopping to the ground.

"What in the world is THAT?" she exclaims.

"It's nothing" you quickly mumble. It dawns on you that you were yet to discuss that mark with anyone, having lost your voice the night after it appeared.

"It certainly doesn't look like nothing!"

-

Frantically trying to keep out of her reach, magic once again grabs you. Still showing no concerns for your modesty, Rarity pulls down one side of your boxers revealing the bold "20M" situated on your hip.

"Is this a normal thing for your kind to have?" she begins asking, a rather disdainful look on her face.

Futilely struggling against her magic's grip, you give up. You don't want to accidentally cause the boxers to rip or slip down further.

"No, it's not." you pant slightly, "It only appeared about a week ago." There'd be little point in hiding the truth now.

"Does it... hurt?" Rarity's face was now right next to your hip, you could feel her breath on your skin.

"No, it doesn't. Can we just ignore it please?" The awkwardness was getting to you. You didn't want anyone near that area at the moment.

"Such an odd marking... 20M? What does that even mean? Is this Poster lingo?"

"It... probably means Twenty million..." you resign.

"20 million whats?" Rarity asks, her curiosity reaching a peak.

"Posts", you sigh, "At least, I assume. You won't understand, and I don't want to explain it right now."

Rarity's eyebrow raises, her sly smile returning.

"You know what it looks like to me, dear?" she teases.

Oh boy, here it comes.

"It looks like someone's got their cutie mark! You've finally become of age. We'll need to host a cute-ceañera for you."

That's the last thing you need; more attention on things you want to ignore.

-

Rarity laughs at your reaction to the very idea of having a cute-ceañera.

"I'm only joking, dear. I know you don't want any more attention than you already attract."

Her understanding calms you down, you were getting weary of more staring. With the cold beginning to bite, you successfully escape the clutches of magic and grab your dressing gown, wrapping it around yourself.

"On that note," Rarity grins, "How would you like me to make some silky lingerie? I make plenty for ponies, so designing for you shouldn't be too hard. It would be an interesting challenge, actually. Wonder I could make it emphasize you hips?"

"No." you say flatly. "No way in hell."

Joking or not, Rarity had expected this answer. She rolled her eyes.

"Oh come now, what's the problem? You're a lady now, might as well embrace it."

These ponies aren't on your wavelength at all; taking your transformation as trivial as if you were shy over a bad haircut. They had no true understanding of the turmoil inside you at losing your masculinity.

"Now that I'm awake I might as well crack on with some designs. Once I get an idea I just need to finish it. What are your plans?" Rarity asks, batting her eyelashes at you in a kind way.

Rubbing your stomach, you think maybe the next best thing to do would be visiting the bathroom. Eating loads of solid food in a frenzy didn't seem to be going down too well, especially after fasting for the past few days.

"...I'm going to head back to sleep." you lie.

-

"Back to sleep? You mean you're actually going to lie in those filthy sheets?" Rarity protests.

You frown, forgetting the state you left them in.

"How did your sheets even get like that if you're not hurt?"

These types of questions would be great to avoid right now.

"Nose bleed." you make up.

"A nose bleed? And how did that happen? Did you hit yourself?" Rarity's raised eyebrow only confirms that she doesn't believe you.

"No. When you have fingers," you wiggle them at her, "sometime's one needs to... scratch one's nose from the inside." You really wanted to say you were mining for nuggets in there, but you couldn't seem to bring yourself to. Thankfully this explanation was enough to convince Rarity.

"Eww. You scratched the inside of your nose with your... things, and managed to make it bleed?"

"Yeah, well, I have sharp nails." This statement stood true, as you certainly hadn't been keeping your nails in check. Why would you? Ponies don't have nails, and nail clippers don't exist here.

With a look of disappointment, Rarity warns you that such crude acts are unbefitting for a lady. Now you're the one rolling their eyes.

"Lucky for you I have the perfect spell to dislodge blood from fabric. I swear, if I didn't already have a cutie mark for finding gems, it'd be for cleaning stains."

"And why do know how to remove blood?" you ask faking a suspicious look.

"Never you mind!" Rarity flusters up. You can't help giggle. Ugh, your giggle sounds stupid.

-

Proceeding back up the stairs to your room with Rarity in-tow, she gracefully casts a spell on your sheets. Blue light shines brightly from her horn giving life to the dim walls. Right before your eyes the blood disintegrates leaving nothing but an eerie glitter. It reminds you of the spell Celestia had cast on your arrival night to deal with your 'welcoming gift'. Your heart pangs, if only you knew back then what was going to happen to you.

"Thanks" comes your dead tone. You were sadly used to ponies cleaning up after you by this point.

"Not at all," Rarity coos, "Try get some rest. You still look quite pale."

"I will. Also... thanks for accepting my new voice." It's a rather lame statement, but you can't ignore the intense self-awareness every time you spoke. You needed to know if you could still be taken seriously with this alien tone.

Rarity smiles, "Honestly, I do like it a lot. I feel more connected to you now than I have been for the past 2 weeks."

At this, you blush. You don't know why, but you can't help it. Does Rarity now consider you a friend?

"G'night. Well, morning," you say, "See you in a few hours."

As the door closes and darkness floods the room, your gut gives a rather painful gurgle. Boy did you regret stuffing your face so early in the morning.

Rubbing your lower stomach, the cramping reaches critical point. The sudden rushing of a shit-tsunami was upon you, and you need to dash to the bathroom. Now. Was this related to your cycle? How do girls cope?!

-