There’s a stranger on in the Discord channel, offering to turn people into ponies. They probably want to rp – it could be fun.

You agree, and they ask you to name the pony, you reply and then; silence – they don’t reply.

You check the chat a couple more times before supposing that they must have not bothered in the end. It’s rude, but after a few minutes you forget all about it and go back to what you were doing before.

But damn, your mouth is dry. And is it just you or has the temperature in the room dropped a few degrees. Okay, now it’s risen a few degrees. Something is wrong. Everyone knows what’s going around at the moment, have you caught it? Does it come on that fast?!

You shoot out of your chair and then sway precariously; the room seems to be doing it too, rocking side to side with afterimages trailing behind. The effect is sickening, and despite your legs all of a sudden taking on the properties of jelly you do you best to stagger out of the room and into the hall.

You need to get to the bathroom. Whatever has come on you has come on fast, but maybe a splash in the face with some water will help, and then you can call the emergency line if you need to.

You totter forwards, are you stooping that much? Everything around you seems to be getting higher up… Holding your hands out in front of yourself for balance you notice just how blurry everything has gotten. You can barely make out the individual fingers on your shaking hands, and it seems to be getting worse. They look like a solid lump now. They feel like a solid lump.

You strain your eyes, willing them into focus, and gasp at what you see.

Your fingers are gone, melded into a pair of solid lumps. A pair of hooves. The skin tone is starting to look off too.

That’ll be the.. The fur… You think numbly.

Are you hallucinating? Is this real?

Everything feels warm and tingly as the fur spreads over your forehooves and begins to creep up your arms. It reaches your elbows and they bend strangely, the bones rearranging as the shortening limbs transition into forelegs. It’s-

With a cry that sounds far too high pitched and far too girly you fall forwards as your waist and hips suddenly change. Your shoulders soon follow suit and though try with all your might to straighten back up again, you realize that you can’t, you’re stuck on all fours... Looking back, you see the purple fur and wider bones of your… Flank…

All the while the fur is racing down your legs; they look like they are reeling in with the speed at which they are shrinking. It reaches your feet and for a brief moment you realize how bizarre you must look, before your attention is forced back to the changing appendages. You’re standing on your tiptoes now, certain you’d lose balance were your forehooves not also supporting your weight; the toes are merging together, the bones in your feet cracking and creaking as they become something very different.

Only a few seconds later and your standing, or rather wobbling, on four hooves. An experimental, tottering, step takes a full minute to manage. And when you finally do manage it, the profoundly strange feeling move produces a ‘clack’ of hoof on floor. Is this really how you’ll be moving from now on? How are you even meant to feel about that?!

Your train of thought is derailed by the intense pressure between your legs. Numbly, you realize that your chosen pony is a mare. It’s clear that the new, wet, space migrating towards your padded rear is exactly what is expected. This doesn’t much help mitigate the shock though, and it only gets worse as your torso barrels out into a shape fit for a pony – your nipples moving lower and lower until the teats sit exactly where they should.

Staggering through the house in a daze in search of a mirror, you feel the bones of your spine pressing out against your rear. It’s gives a moment later, and a ropey tail begins to emerge from our flank; a pattern of purple hair erupting from it into your new tail – swaying with every hoofed step you take. It looks so colorful and out of place against the mundane background of your home, and you want to reach out and touch it, wondering how soft it is, but the move is too complex to manage.

You at least reach the mirror, and what you see draws a high-pithed, girly yelp from your mouth that sounds nothing like your own.

A human head on a pony body; your hair is already spilling out in a wave, becoming a deep shade of purple as it cascades down you back in a wonderfully silken mane. Brushing against it, your ears start to tingle and then stretch into purple, furred, points. Almost immediately the plush things perk up – catching every sound – are you really that excited?

You don’t have much time to think about it as a sharp twinge reaches your nose. Even without the mirror you’d know what was happening. With it, you see both in your reflection and your peripheral vision as your nose tugs outwards, with your whole skull cracking and shaping to accommodate; the purple thing slowly expanding as it forms an adorable snout to go with your rounded jaw and smaller mouth.

You go cross-eyed to look at it, hardly believe your eyes, and then yelp again when they expand; becoming wide and innocent and cute – the far larger irises swiftly swallowed up by a shade of purple.

Looking at the purple pony reflected in the mirror you’re not sure how to feel. In fact, as you incline you head side to side in thought, the only thing you are sure of is that something is missing. Something like…

The spiraled, lilac, unicorn horn that erupts from your head isn’t exactly painful, but it is certainly unpleasant. The wings that erupt from your back are painful, you fall forwards, your nose bopping into the ground and your flank swaying involuntarily as the fluffy, angelic, wings burst into existence – expanding and flapping in the air at their first taste of freedom.

You actually feel yourself rising for a second, and in a burst of panic as you lift inches from the ground your horn surges to life and-

Whiteness.

When you come too the first thing you note is that you are still definitely a pony. The second is that you are definitely not in your home. It doesn’t take a genius to work out where you are though, the animated village in front of you could only be from the show to which you now belong.

“Is this… Am I really…”

“Twilight Sparkle.”

The blue pony that walks into view certainly looks like Trixie. But you’re not sure you’ve ever seen Trixie look that evil in the show.

“As promised” they say, grinning wickedly, “Oh actually.”

A wave of a blue hoof and you jump a few inches into the air as a prickle assails you flank. You twist your head to see the pink star emblazoned on your flank.

“Well, we’re done here. Or rather I am. You had best get used to ‘here’” ‘Trixie’ says, laughing, “I suppose if you’re very diligent, you could perhaps find a way back to normal in one of those books you love so much. That’s if you even want to.”

She shrugs, “Oh well. Whatever. One down, onto the next.”

You blink once and she’s gone. You, on the other hoof, are definitely stuck here… Twilight Sparkle…