PTFG

Lab Grade Lily

Dec 27th, 2020 (edited)
33
Never
Not a member of Pastebin yet? Sign Up, it unlocks many cool features!
  1. ####### Day 1 #######
  2.  
  3. I’m a 20-something male attending University and living in a small mountainside community. I’ve just finished my last exam of the year, and summer awaits me. I’d be more excited if I didn’t feel so exhausted and nervous about how I performed on my exams.
  4.  
  5. As I walk home to my apartment, I contemplate what a stressful year it has been. It might sound stupid, but I’m actually a huge fan of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. Something about it just makes me feel happy and carefree. Nobody in real life knows about it, but I do chat about ponies with online friends frequently. It has become a bit of an obsession, but I’m glad to have something so light and happy to focus on while I’m otherwise so completely stressed out.
  6.  
  7. I sift through my mail after arriving home, one letter stands out. No return address, addressed to me by name. It seems to be typewritten. The letter is actually really typewritten, with an actual typewriter, and I find this very strange. I ponder that whoever wrote it wanted to mask their handwriting, and perhaps felt their computer was being monitored? I read the note several times over.
  8.  
  9. >URGENT. You are in grave danger.
  10. >I’m taking a huge risk in sending you this, but you need to get out immediately.
  11. >My colleagues have been monitoring you for many months.
  12. >I can’t say for sure what they’ll do to you if they get to you, but it’s not ethical, I must put a stop to this.
  13. >You need to stop what you’re doing and flee. This is your last chance.
  14. >It doesn’t matter where you go, but the further the better.
  15. >Don’t think, just run.
  16.  
  17. Reading the note gives me a bad feeling, but I brush it off. I felt embarrassed at the thought of anyone observing my obsession with ponies… It has to be some kind of prank, someone thinks they are funny. I have no reason to believe the legitimacy of this note, especially when it’s asking me just to leave everything and run away from home.
  18.  
  19. I end up deciding to browse /mlp/ to take my mind off exams and that strange note. All the threads are kind of shit anyways though. I decide to do something I haven’t actually done in a while and rewatch an episode of My Little Pony. I find that it’s doing a great job of cheering me up.
  20.  
  21. Wearing headphones was probably a big mistake on my part or I might have heard them coming. There might have been no way out even if I was not distracted, but I was. I feel a needle jam into the side of my neck, someone standing behind me. I try to shout, but everything goes dark.
  22.  
  23. ####### Day 2 #######
  24.  
  25. As I slowly come back to my senses, I feel that I’m tied down, and can barely move. I’m in a large, well lit mostly white room with a high ceiling. I can see there are several foggy white colored windows higher up that have rooms behind them. Perhaps intended for observation? But I see no other humans around.
  26.  
  27. After around fifteen minutes I’ve regained most of my feeling and alertness. I am on some kind of hard surgical bed, my limbs, waist, and head are restrained by sturdy leather straps. A thick IV needle is stuck into my right arm with bandages holding it in place, and it’s attached to a bag hanging from a stand next to me. I can’t turn my head very well, so it’s hard to get a really good look at the bag. I can see that it contains a silvery liquid, for all I know it’s a bag of mercury draining into my blood stream, but I reason that I couldn’t still be alive if it really were mercury. The bag is about two thirds of the way empty and gradually draining into me. I can feel my heart rate rising. Whatever it is, I’m starting to panic, and the feeling of being completely restrained is only making it much worse.
  28.  
  29. I cry out, “Help! Where the fuck am I!?” I breathe heavily and sob. This is all my own fault. Perhaps I should have taken that warning more seriously. I am overcome with fear.
  30.  
  31. A loud click sounds in the room, startling me. A cheery voice comes over the PA system, “Oh good, you’re awake! I’ll be right down for you.”
  32.  
  33. The platform I’m bound to inclines about 45 degrees and I see a large set of automatic metal doors slide open. From out of the doors comes a man in a lab coat and surgical mask holding a clipboard. He’s about six feet tall, with short, brown, well groomed hair. It’s hard to make out any features due to the surgical mask he wears over his mouth and nose. “Good morning!” he calls to me cheerfully as he comes to stand before me. “Please try to stay calm. I’m sure you have a lot of questions right now. Maybe I’ll be able to help you with those”
  34.  
  35. I feel intense anger come over me. “What the fuck are you doing to me? What is this stuff in my arm? Where are we? Who are you? Why are you doing this to me?!?”
  36.  
  37. “Slow down there, just try and breathe. I’m not at liberty to discuss the nature of this facility, but you’ve been brought here after we had determined that you’re an ideal candidate for helping us develop and understand the material that’s currently being injected into your bloodstream.”
  38.  
  39. I interrupt “What is it? What are you doing to me?”
  40.  
  41. He glances at his clipboard. “Well, you are being injected with serum X92D77-A, not that the number means anything to you, and we are studying its effects on your body. We have found that this particular preparation causes different effects in almost everyone who has been exposed to it. It seems to be highly based on the host’s mental processes, their imagination, memories, that kind of thing. We found you to be a bit of an oddball in this department. You’ll make a unique and valuable data point, we hope to learn a lot from you”
  42.  
  43. “Oh my god, no, you can't do this to me. Human testing?! Please no. Please let me go, I don’t want this,” I beg tearfully. He ignores me and casually disconnects the now empty IV from my arm and gently changes out the bandages on my arm.
  44.  
  45. “LET ME GO!” I shout desperately, and he lets out a small but audible laugh.
  46.  
  47. He turns his back on me and as he walks away he calls over his shoulder “The way out is through the doors on your right. I trust you will be able to show yourself out if that’s what you really want. The door is open. I promise you’ll be in good hands here though. Please follow me into the next room.”
  48.  
  49. As he walks back through the door in front of me the straps loosen then detach, and my body slumps to the floor in a trembling heap. My first instinct is to attack the man, but I reason that he must be ready for that reaction… I turn to the right and bolt out the door.
  50.  
  51. The voice comes over the PA again. “You’ll want to head down the hallway to your left. Take the elevator up to the ground floor. You’re currently very far underground… The next few days will probably be a very trying time for you, remember that you’re free to come back here, you will be in good hands.” I follow his directions and head down the hallway.
  52.  
  53. I walk down the strange dark grey corridor at a brisk pace. It’s very clean and featureless. There are many sealed doors that I couldn’t tell how to open if I wanted to, but I don’t stop to think about it. As I ride the elevator up I wonder if this is all a trap to test my obedience. After what seems like a long time, the elevator comes to a stop.
  54.  
  55. The elevator doors open and I bolt out in a straight line for what I hope is the exit. I quickly pass through another corridor, then a lobby which I believe to be completely empty of people or receptionists. I come to a set of traditional wooden doors which I throw open and step outside.
  56.  
  57. *******
  58.  
  59. I breathe in fresh air, and the sun is high above my head, telling me it's about noon. I’m really outside again. I look around and find that I’m on a large natural platform overlooking a gorgeous valley in a mountain range that seems to extend in all directions. The lab I just escaped from has no identifying markers, and appears unspectacular aside from being built into the side of a mountain. I decide that I need to get as far away from this place as possible. I think the best way to get to safety would be getting down to a stream I can see then following it downstream and hoping it leads to civilization… I think I can see a bit of a natural path leading down there. It is miles away, and difficult to tell for sure. First I will have to climb down the steep face of a cliff to get on the path I want to take.
  60.  
  61. The cliff is only about 30 feet, and I see a good path for climbing down. I’m confident that I can handle it, but about halfway down I feel intense cramping in my fingers and wrists. I speed up a little, trying to scramble down as the pain intensifies. By the time I’m about 6 feet off the ground my hands just can’t hold on and I fall. I’m a little bruised and scraped up by the fall, but no major injuries thankfully.
  62.  
  63. I look at my right hand in confusion. It’s getting difficult to move my fingers, they feel swollen and sore. Stranger, I can only seem to move them in unison; I can open and close my hands without too much effort, but I can't freely wiggle my fingers. I rub my hands together trying to alleviate the cramping, but it doesn’t help much. I press on into a lightly wooded area in search of the stream I saw earlier.
  64.  
  65. *******
  66.  
  67. I wander through the trees and grass with my back to the facility which inexplicably captured and let me leave. Why did they let me go? It is difficult to enjoy the warm sunlight, light breeze, and beautiful scenery as the pain in my hands and wrists continues to gradually intensify. I'm too young to suddenly get Arthritis, and nobody in my family has ever had a problem with that. It must have something to do with what they did to me before letting me go.
  68.  
  69. I'm nervous about whether I'll ever make it home alive. I really have no idea where I'm going, no idea which way is north, though I make a mental note to pay attention to which direction the sun sets. I know for certain that I need to find other humans, and probably also seek some serious medical attention given that I've been injected with unknown substances.
  70.  
  71. As I continue to walk I feel some slight discomfort in my feet. The tennis shoes I'm wearing are probably a poor choice of footwear for hiking, but they'll have to do. I continue to examine my hands. I'm unable to spread my fingers apart, and my thumbs are curled up against my palms, completely useless. I feel like I'm going crazy, but I'm almost sure my hands are an inch longer than I remember. I must be seeing things.
  72.  
  73. I'm starting to feel dehydrated, but the stream is probably only a mile or two away. I consider picking up the pace and jogging there, but my feet are really starting to hurt. It's like my tennis shoes suddenly became two sizes smaller; my toes are curled up painfully against the inside of the shoes. The ground has been mostly dry and covered in light grass, so I decide to take off my shoes and carry them for a while.
  74.  
  75. It's difficult unlacing my shoes, as I work the knots I notice that my hands are certainly longer again, even more so now. I'm able to finally tug the knot loose and slide them off. I feel much better, but realize that I hadn't thought of how difficult it would be to put them back on again later. I carry them awkwardly pressed against my chest by my two ruined hands.
  76.  
  77. What is happening to my body? Perhaps this is all a hallucination induced by whatever they gave me? Could it be that somehow my hands are being warped and changed? That is impossible right? My heart races, but I try to put it out of my mind.
  78.  
  79. I finally come to the stream which is about ten feet across and briskly flowing with clear, clean water. I fail at cupping water in my hands to drink, so I get on my hands and knees and plunge my face into the water to drink. It's cool and refreshing. As I sit back up I'm slapped in the face by something cold and wet. I panic and shout, falling on my back and scrambling to get it off me.
  80.  
  81. I feel really foolish when I come to the realization that it was just my wet hair slapping me in the eyes. It does however call to my attention the fact that my hair seems to have become three inches longer than I remember as well as changing color to blonde. I find it really concerning that these strange things are happening to me. If I lose it and go insane, I’m not going to make any progress towards finding the help I need though. I try to remain calm as I try to dry out my hair and brush it into place with my hands. As I brush some hair out of my face towards my ear my heart drops.
  82.  
  83. I feel that my ear now has a dull pointed tip. Both of them do. I don’t know what this means but I need to get out of here. I need to get away from this. Tears well up in my eyes. I gather my shoes up in my arms again and start feebly jogging in the direction the stream is flowing. I cry aloud to myself, “I don’t want to be here anymore. I want to go home right now. What if I never see my family again?”
  84.  
  85. I breathe deeply and try to collect myself. I need to toughen up if I’m going to make it. I slow myself to a well-paced walk, continuing alongside the stream. I hadn’t noticed earlier, but I’ve been walking up on my toes for quite a while now without even thinking about it. I can force myself to walk with my heels down, but it makes my ankles feel tight and uncomfortable. I’m feeling persistent pain in my legs and slight lengthening in my feet that is very similar to what is happening in my hands.
  86.  
  87. *******
  88.  
  89. I walk for hours and come to a nice clearing and decide to take the opportunity to rest for a while. By the sun I guess it’s about 5:00 PM, and that I’ve been following the stream east, with the sun still hours from setting to my back. I worry that I might hurt myself walking without any shoes supporting my ankles. I realize with a bit of shock though that my feet are almost twice the length of my shoes when I look at them side by side. I stand up on my toes again, and realize that now that I’m really looking at myself, the proportions of my legs are very different. I’m no taller standing this way than I was before, but my upper and lower legs have become much shorter with the difference made up by my lengthened feet. Attempting to walk flat on my feet causes me to lose balance and fall over. My jeans are bunched up around my heels due to my shortened legs; I adjust them around so that my pant legs fall past my heels, with the tips of my feet poking out the bottom allowing me to walk on my tip toes.
  90.  
  91. Similarly, my outstretched arms seem to not be significantly different in length when outstretched, but my hands make up a significantly larger portion of that length, my fingers are a bit longer but a lot of the difference is in the length of my palms. My forearms have become subtly shorter, but the difference in my arms seems to have been made up mostly by my upper arms. The distance between my elbows and shoulders seems to have gradually fallen to about half of what is natural. I must have not noticed as my arms were mostly tucked against my chest carrying my now useless shoes, but I’ve undergone some serious changes.
  92.  
  93. I discard my shoes, they’re worthless to me now, with my body like this. Even with nothing to hold onto, I find that I’m still much more comfortable with my arms tucked up against my chest, as opposed to hanging by my sides. I can still reach down and put my fingers into my pockets, but I have to stretch a little to reach down toward my hips. It feels most natural to hold my arms straight out in front of me, tucked close to my body, or even straight up in the air. I decide I will do my best to just keep my arms folded in front of me while I walk around.
  94.  
  95. I need to keep moving. With each passing hour it feels more and more awkward to move, but I need to get help. There has to be a way to reverse the changes. I spend the next several hours moving forward, trying to lay down as much distance as I can before nightfall.
  96.  
  97. I don’t have any sort of light source with me. No flashlight and no way of starting a fire. As it grows dark I start looking for a place to sleep for the night. No need to take shelter from the elements as it’s going to be a warm night. I settle on a small soft looking field of grass that is mostly flat and level. The moon is fairly bright and almost full tonight. I’m hungry, but I haven’t seen anything edible all day. I can live with this, but it’s going to be a real problem if I don’t find something soon.
  98.  
  99. I lie on my back and contemplate the day’s events. I’m disgusted by what’s happening to me. I feel so powerless and alone, dehumanized. I want it to stop, and I’m desperate for help. I realize it would be foolish to think that nothing else is going to change, but I need to rest if I want to continue fleeing and searching for help. I close my eyes and fall asleep exhausted and terrified of whatever I might wake up to.
  100.  
  101. *******
  102.  
  103. I’m surrounded by perfectly verdant and impossibly sloping hills in all directions, Equestria. Absentmindedly I drift up and down the dirt roads of a quaint town, Ponyville. I’m face to face with a purple unicorn pony, Twilight. She speaks to me softly and slowly in a beautiful voice. She wears a sad frown on her face as she tilts her head slightly to one side. She gently lifts her front hoof to my cheek and sadly looks down and away from me. She sighs and begins to speak again as I bolt upright, startled and awake.
  104.  
  105. I feel an uncomfortable pressure as though I have rolled over and sat on a branch or a rock. It’s dark out and hard to see. I shuffle forward and the feeling stays with me, in the back of my pants. “Did something crawl into my?!” I begin to stammer frantically as I yank it. My blood runs ice cold, “N-no a tail?”
  106.  
  107. Out flops about 8 inches of fine, straight hair supported by a much shorter, small, bony tail. It’s pinching me uncomfortably to have it pinned up against my lower back by the waistband of my pants. I inch my pants down slightly so that in the back they only come up to the base of my new tail. My lower back and the base of my tail ache.
  108.  
  109. I sit upright for a few moments breathing deeply and telling myself to calm down. It’s still too dark out for me to be awake again. Dark silhouettes of the surrounding mountain range loom ominously. The woods that lie ahead of me produce an illusion of a seemingly endless abyss beneath their canopies. I want to cry out in agony and fear, but even greater now is my fear of wild animals lurking in the darkness so I hold my tongue. I have no idea what to do if I’m visited by a predatory beast. I dare not cry out like a wounded animal and attract them to me if they are indeed out there.
  110.  
  111. Every moment of rest I can get is precious. I lie back down on my side and curl up into a little ball. I flick my tail a few times, and I press my face into my forearms weeping softly. I cry myself back to sleep.
  112.  
  113. ####### Day 3 #######
  114. Birds chirp; I wake up early in the morning feeling well rested. I stretch and move about. I swish my tail around a few times, the feeling is completely alien. The hair on my tail has now grown to about a foot and a half in length. It is two shades of blonde. The lower half is a distinctively lighter shade than the darker blonde upper portion. It’s actually quite shiny and beautiful hair, mostly straight, but curling with a subtle flare at the tip.
  115.  
  116. I find it kind of awkward to walk with my pants pulled down far enough to keep from obstructing my tail. I decide that I’d better try to cut a hole for my tail. I don’t want to walk around naked like some sort of animal. Am I even human anymore…? I go to remove my jeans, but stop to stare blankly at my hands.
  117.  
  118. My hands still really hurt. My thumbs are both just completely gone, like I never had them, replaced by smooth, featureless skin. My arms are both evenly coated in some kind of a fine pink powder. I try batting it off, but then I realize that it’s actually extremely short, fine hairs. My skin itself is faintly tinted in a similar shade of pink, though only subtly different from its original shade. My extremely elongated palms come to an almost cylindrical shape where they meet with my wrist. A few inches away from my wrist they still seem to diverge, and I feel a great deal of localized pain and pressure at this point. My wrists themselves seem more like a knee or elbow when I bend them. I wonder if bones are fusing together under my skin; the thought makes me feel ill.
  119.  
  120. I carefully undo my pants. It takes both hands to fumble open the button and zipper keeping them fastened but I manage to do it after a few minutes. My boxers are much easier to pull down and remove. The sight of my legs fills me with shame, but I take note of the changes. The proportions have changed subtly since I last looked; my upper and lower legs again shorter by a few inches each, and my feet, if they can still be called that, a few inches longer, now accounting for over half of my leg length while standing. My feet themselves feel heavier and fuller, not having quite lost their shape, but sturdier and fuller. My legs are covered in tiny pink hairs too, it’s everywhere all over my body.
  121.  
  122. I turn my attention back to the task of modifying my clothing. Conveniently a nearby tree has a sharp broken off branch sticking out of it. I firmly press my boxers and jeans against the sharp edge, giving me a hole that I carefully tear a bit wider to accommodate my new and unwelcome anatomy. It takes a great deal of effort but I put them back on properly.
  123.  
  124. I walk my way back to the stream I’ve decided to follow in hopes of finding an outlet near some sort of human settlement. What would they even think of me if they could see me like this? I’m a monster. I’m not sure how I would handle that situation, but it is one problem I really wish I had right now. I try to ignore the dull pain throughout my entire body as I hike onwards.
  125.  
  126. Walking feels incredibly strange for me now. I feel like I’m up on stilts and walking on my toes all at the same time. I’m not moving very quickly, but I’ve gone on like this for at least 2 miles. I am in fact limping as the discomfort of putting weight on my legs and toes is starting to develop into a shooting pain. My thoughts are interrupted by intense pain shooting from my hands. I scream in pain and trip, falling to the dirt.
  127.  
  128. I roll over on my back whimpering and sobbing as I flail my arms about frantically. I hear a sick popping noise come from my right wrist, and it feels like all the bones in my palms are being twisted and shattered to bits. I’m openly crying and occasionally shouting no. It begins in my other wrist shortly after. The popping, twisting agony continues slowly up each palm away from my wrists. It moves slowly, travelling about an inch every five minutes. I am in hell. Whatever process is doing this, in its wake it leaves a fused bone, a single Metacarpal bone. My upper arm at the same time painfully shortens even more. The sheer amount of pain I’m in causes me to vomit.
  129.  
  130. My head spins as I writhe in pain. I cannot see straight. “Please help me.” For hours it feels like the very bones in my arms are being fed into a wood chipper. All I can do is scream, and I scream myself hoarse. I vomit over and over until all I can do is dry heave. When the pain reaches my fingers it becomes almost unbearable. I watch tearfully my fingers twist and vanish into me, fusing and breaking. It feels like someone is smashing my hand against an anvil with a hammer, pulverizing them into paste. The pain lets up and I lie on the floor, chest heaving for what feels like an eternity.
  131.  
  132. *******
  133.  
  134. Eventually my breathing slows, and I regain a shred of composure. I stay down, laying on my back, and stick my arms up in the air so I can see them. It’s hard to believe what I see, but I have hooves. A pair of marshmallowy little pony arms stick out in front of me. They’re pink with a healthy but light coat of downy fur. I let them collapse back down against my chest, and choke out deliriously “I don’t want to be a little pony.” Little sound comes out as I speak to myself though, as my voice is shot from hours of screaming. I’m turning into a cartoon animal in the middle of nowhere and there is nothing I can do about it. I’m so exhausted that I’m placid and calm.
  135.  
  136. I crawl back to the stream, in need of water. I sit with my legs both off to one side, propping myself up with my two arms. I stayed there for a moment looking at them pressed against the dirt. How long do I even have before I’m walking on these? I shakily lower myself to drink. I curl my left hoove inward and lower myself onto the cannon of my arm, what was once the back of my hand. I shift my weight and do the same with my right arm. I spend a long time trying to rehydrate and recuperate. I’ve cried and thrown up so much today, I’m in horrible shape. I dread the changes which are no doubt yet to come. I think I’d probably die if the same happened to my hind legs. I stop myself. To have thought of them as hind legs was… disturbingly accurate. I wonder if I should just start calling my arms forelegs now.
  137.  
  138. It’s probably almost 3:00 PM by the time I’m up and able to move around again. My new hooves and front legs are actually now the only part of me that doesn’t hurt at all. I am grateful that at least that much is over, but I’m losing hope of getting help and somehow stopping this. Even if I was in the lobby of an E.R. right this very moment, what could they even do for me but watch? They could supply morphine maybe, something to take the edge off while my body finishes twisting itself into equine form. I really don’t want to be a pony. I don’t want to be hurt anymore.
  139.  
  140. My hooves are interesting, supple and nothing like the harsh hooves of a natural horse. I experiment with them, I push them together tip to tip, rub them together. They’re sturdy and padded with a tough, but slightly flexible nail like material on the bottoms; almost like the sole of a shoe, blended seamlessly with the rest of my foreleg. I can feel through them. I run my hoof over the rough bark of a tree. It’s like feeling through a pair of sturdy work gloves. The skin on the back of my hoof has better sensitivity. I kick at the air with them, and I try sitting and stomping the hooves against the ground. It’s surreal. I keep expecting to wake up and this was all a nightmare, but I don’t kid myself.
  141.  
  142. *******
  143.  
  144. I trudge on slowly for another half mile or so, but I can’t go on. I give up. I briefly consider going back to that awful facility. They sounded pretty cocky and sure I’d be back anyways. It’s so hard to walk though, and I’m so exhausted that the trek back seems almost impossible. This seems like a nice place to die anyways…
  145.  
  146. I find another patch of grass to sit in and I stare pensively off into the distance for a long time. I miss the life I had. My focus is broken by a sharp soreness in my crotch. I whimper miserably. The soreness intensifies like I’m being kicked in the testicles. With my new hooves it’s almost impossible to get my pants undone, but I manage it. I pull down my boxers to investigate.
  147.  
  148. My scrotum is impossibly tight against my lower abdomen. I’m reeling in pain as it feels like my testicles are being crushed in a vice. I cry and caress my testes gently with my hoof, but it’s hard to even feel them now, especially with these hooves. I’m losing them. I’m transforming into a pink pony with a blonde mane and tail, I should have figured I’d have my sex taken away from me. “Mmph, Mmph,” I groan miserably. Even through my abused haze of mental exhaustion I feel acutely distressed at the idea of becoming a female. I feel like I’m losing everything. My testes pull into me, and my scrotum pulls tight behind them, turning into smooth featureless skin. I continue to feel acute pain as I feel them gradually migrate up into my abdomen. After some fifteen minutes, the pain subsides. They’ve presumably reached their destination. I no longer have testicles, and very likely have ovaries up inside of me.
  149.  
  150. I push my penis around with my hoof a bit and wonder if it’s going to wait a while before making its grand exit. It responds to my touch, firming up a little. I realize that this is probably my last chance to masturbate as a male ever again, and I don’t skip the opportunity. I stroke away with both hooves and my eyes roll back into my head as I close my eyes. I just try to let my mind go blank, take me away from this place. It feels good. It’s the only thing I’ve felt all day that wasn’t fear and pain beyond belief, and for a moment, it’s like those awful things never happened. I spurt a small amount clear, sticky liquid, and go limp. Probably leftover from whatever bit of a prostate I have, but free of sperm. It does seem to have calmed me. I guess that my penis is probably waiting for changes inside of me before I lose it, but I resign to the hopelessness of it.
  151.  
  152. *******
  153.  
  154. I pull my boxers back up to preserve my modesty, but I don’t even bother with my jeans. There’s no way in hell I’ll ever get them on again correctly with my front hooves. I sigh and stare absentmindedly at a group of flowering wild Madonna Lilies, which I know to be one of the few varieties that are naturally occurring, though I really have no way of telling if I’m in these flowers native land. It strikes me as odd that I can identify them so specifically, and odder yet that I’m now sure that Lily is my name. I’m Lily the pony, and I can’t for the life of me remember my human name. I really stop to think about it now, I remember life as a human, but I cannot remember a name. I was Anonymous, and now I’m Lily. They took my name. I pull one of the flowers from its stalk with my hooves and stick it in my hair near to my ear.
  155.  
  156. Mocking the background pony from that blasted cartoon I raise a hoof to my forehead and exclaim “This is awful!” in a high voice and swoon, dropping to the ground, giggling a little. My voice is feminine and alien to me. I don’t want to be a mare, but it looks like I really don’t get a choice. I take another one of the flowers in my hooves and smell it. It’s wonderfully fragrant. Without thinking about it I take it into my mouth and mercilessly bite it off its stalk. It’s surprisingly edible; it tastes floral and almost sweet like honey. I swallow it and it’s immensely satisfying. I could have probably lived for another week without food, but the changes I’ve gone through had left me sapped of energy. I eat one flower after another, there are so many here.
  157.  
  158. I’m briefly interrupted from my meal by a feeling like being snapped on the hip with a rubber band. I pull my boxers aside to see an image of lilies zapping into view on the side of my ass. I stupidly throw my hooves in the air and exclaim “HURRR DURRR, MAH CUTIE MARK!!! They really think of everything, don’t they?” This whole ordeal is making me kind of hate myself for ever being so obsessed with My Little Pony in the first place. I turn back to focus on my flowers.
  159.  
  160. As I binge on delicious flowers my face hurts, but I don’t stop. The dull pain is focused in my mouth and nose, which I feel pulling out into a muzzle. Tears roll down my cheeks and I keep munching on flowers, pretending this isn’t happening to me. It feels like my jaw is being pulled forward so hard that it’s going to rip out of my mouth. They’re so sweet and good… It feels like my nostrils are being pulled apart by big hooks. Everything’s going to be okay, Lily… My ears feel like someone’s pulling on them from behind, and they’re swelling up big and painfully. I love my flowers... My ears swivel instinctively down against my head as I wince in pain. My flowers love me... My nose and upper jaw are pulling out into an animalistic muzzle right in front of my eyes. My eyes feel like they’re swelling to the size of dinner plates. Just let it end soon…
  161.  
  162. As suddenly as it started, it stops. I pull back and stare wide eyed at the absolute havoc I wreaked on two large bushes of lily flowers. I stare at the destruction while consciously flopping my pony ears around for a few minutes before they start getting sore. It’s a bizarre feeling.
  163.  
  164. *******
  165.  
  166. Feeling marginally better, I finally try to stand up again but I just can’t. I flop over on my back and buck around helplessly for a while, but I can’t get my back legs straight with my torso. I whine and really try stretching them, but the best I can do with my legs together and straight out is to get them about 30 degrees off the ground. I roll over on my side and sigh. I try to get up and crawl on my knees, but my knees can’t reach the ground either. Finally, I stick my butt straight up in the air and stand up with my front legs. It’s hard to get my balance just right but I fall over when my chest emits a loud cracking sound and I fall over on my side.
  167.  
  168. In one swift motion my shoulders and neck jerk back impossibly, forming a 90 degree angle between my neck and back. At first I feel like my spine must have been broken by the suddenness of it, but I seem to be actually mostly unharmed by the sudden realignment. I roll onto my belly and push up with my hind legs and make a few small steps forward with my forelegs to balance. I’m standing on all fours, and my natural gaze is straight ahead. It’s pretty difficult for me to walk still, but I carefully trot around my little field. It’s getting dark out, so I resolve to stay here for at least the night. I spend the rest of the evening trying to practice walking.
  169.  
  170. *******
  171.  
  172. As night falls, I slump over on my side and try to digest what has happened to me today. I’m light headed and shell shocked. I’m almost all pony now. Some features still might indicate a remainder of my humanity. My hind legs are a frightening display. I think of the pure hell that I experienced when my front hooves came in, and I know the clock is ticking down until it happens to me again. It’s a bit of a shame that I ended up as an earth pony. Maybe if I were a Pegasus I could just fly away from all this.
  173.  
  174. I just want to go home. My life is ruined.
  175.  
  176. ####### Day 4 #######
  177.  
  178. I breathe in slowly and deeply, waking from my sleep. I don’t want to get up or open my eyes, but I can tell through my eyelids that the sun is already up and shining. Even as I lay motionless, my sense of proprioception reminds me of what's happened to me. The physical arrangement of my features feels wrong and out of place. It’s like waking up and not immediately recognizing ones surroundings, but instead I don’t recognize myself. A fly buzzes and lands on my ear making it twitch involuntarily. I open my eyes. I am so far from anything I've ever known.
  179.  
  180. I stretch and walk around. I chew on a bit of grass as I think about how to approach the day. It's strangely tempting to go back to the facility, but I can't be that stupid. I could live out here for as long as I want, eating grass and whatever I can find, but I am feeling seriously depressed after days without human contact. Living like a wild animal doesn't appeal to me at all. It might take me forever, but I have to keep trying to find someone to help me.
  181.  
  182. My penis tingles and I look on sadly, knowing there is nothing I can do to stop this. It's limp and rapidly shrinking away. It feels sort of like going from hard to limp, but it just keeps going. As it pulls up into my abdomen I feel the head of my former member become a tiny clitoris, separating from my urethra. It's completely gone, and the skin on my crotch itches intensely. It feels like my skin unzips itself as parts, forming labia.
  183.  
  184. "No no no..." I whimper painfully as I feel like I'm being struck in the groin over and over again with the tip of a blunt handle or rod, making an indentation into me. It continues relentlessly, pushing into the crude beginning of a vaginal cavity. I feel like my own body is raping me. Further and further it pushes deeper into me, violating me. In fact it's not pushing, but pulling from within. I cry out and rub my hoof against my crotch. The pain itself is bearable, but I'm disgusted with myself psychologically as I continue to rub in quick circles. There is no rapist to buck off, no one to beg for mercy, nowhere to run as it pumps deeper and deeper into me. It feels so warm.
  185.  
  186. I moan and scream out in ecstasy as waves of intense pleasure rock my body. I feel my vaginal muscles convulse involuntarily as the pumping pulsating feeling steadily marches its way deeper and deeper into me. Tears roll down my cheeks as I shamefully realize that I'm experiencing my first female orgasm. I don't want to be a female. I cannot stop it; I am helpless as my body continues to rape itself. Conflicting feelings build up inside of me, and I scream out, abandoning myself to the strange sexual sensations forcing themselves upon me. For a moment, I feel like I’m almost enjoying it.
  187.  
  188. Finally it comes to an end, and I lay limp on the ground, still breathing heavily, and my head buzzing with the feelings of afterglow. Tears continued to steadily stream from my eyes as I stared blankly off into space. I can't believe I let that happen to me... I bury my face into my hooves and cry. I cannot believe I let that happen...
  189.  
  190. *******
  191.  
  192. When my hind hooves finally start to come in I'm as ready as I can possibly be for it. The moment I feel that familiar cracking, I pick up a medium sized stick off the ground and clench my teeth, bracing myself. I stumble to a shaded clearing and prop my legs up on the trunk of a fallen tree, trying to keep them elevated slightly above the rest of my body. White hot pain rips into my lower extremities.
  193.  
  194. My muffled screams fill the air. "Hnnnnnnnngghh." I pound my front hooves against the ground to either side and grit my teeth hard against the stick I'm biting down on. It feels like it takes forever, but slowly it does the wrenching, splintering pain works its way down, neatly fused bone left in its wake. I make no effort to hold back my tears. I do manage to keep myself from throwing up this time.
  195.  
  196. I try to escape to a happier place, to delude myself just long enough to let this pass. The leaves sway hypnotically above, gently rustling in the breeze. The stick in my mouth starts to give way and crush. This can't really be my life. The stick I'm biting down on snaps in two and I cough and spit it out. It's too much for me, and I black out.
  197.  
  198. ****&^%
  199.  
  200. >wake up on couch in sugar cube corner
  201. >there is a faint taste of spaghetti in my mouth
  202. >anon bursts into room through portal
  203. >he sees me
  204. >shouts “favorite pony on couch, wat do?!?!”
  205. >rape
  206. >I never asked for this I just want to pway
  207. >my coat seems extra shaggy
  208. >fur balloons outward
  209. >I wan’ pway wid the sghetti
  210. >discord enters room out from under the couch
  211. >”dibscred u wwan pway widd me?”
  212. >he looks angry with me
  213. >try to hide my power level
  214. >he grabs me by my power level
  215. >rape
  216. >see box
  217. >open the box
  218. >spaghetti pours out
  219. >my fluffy fur and hooves are made of spaghetti
  220. >everything in the room haphazardly shifts and sloshes into a giant pile of spaghetti
  221.  
  222. *******
  223.  
  224. My eyes bolt open and I kick at the air squealing. I’m still a pony, and there is no spaghetti anywhere in sight. It was just a bad dream. I let out a sigh of relief. I feel like my skin is buzzing dully. For the first time in days I’m not really in any sort of physical pain. It’s like the way your ears ring after being in an extremely loud room and everything suddenly going quiet. I try and shake it off. I look myself over, I’m completely ponified. A profound sense of relief comes over me, not happy with this result, but just glad the changes seem to be over. I decide that I still want to try to get out of here, and I continue trotting along in the direction I’ve been traveling for the past few days.
  225.  
  226. I am at a loss for what I’ll do if I find a town. It might even be extremely dangerous to approach a town looking like this… If going back to being a human meant going through this again, could I even do it? I know the option isn’t really on the table. Can I live with myself like this though, as a pony forever? I think I’d still rather go back to being a human if I could, but I try not to imagine or relive the process I went through.
  227.  
  228. It’s probably around 2:00 PM by now. I decide to try running, and it comes surprisingly naturally to me. It’s a little unnerving to hear the sound of galloping coming from my own hooves, and I feel embarrassed by doing something that feels so distinctively non-human. I do, however, marvel at how quickly I’m able to move, running on all fours. I must be averaging almost 25 miles per hour, it feels insanely fast to be doing this without a vehicle or bicycle. I feel genuine hope as I continue to race ahead, making better time than ever before.
  229.  
  230. For hours I run. I realize that I’d never have made it as a human. Even if they’d let me go and nothing happened to me, I’d have died out here. At what I guess to be 5 or 6 PM, the trees thin out and I come to a cliff. This stream of water I’ve been following cascades gently down into a lake. I suddenly feel very lost. This is just one big natural reservoir. Coming this way may have been a mistake, I can see what seems to be forever in the directions extending eastward in front of me. I’m hopeless.
  231.  
  232. In my mind, I see myself approach the shear edge of the cliff, standing up on my hind hooves, spinning around to face the setting sun, my arms stretched out wide. I see myself tumbling over backwards to my end. I want to die. I sit and look out over the lake, forlorn. Something catches my eye in the distance.
  233.  
  234. I see something big splash into the lake in the distance. I can’t quite make out what it was; I stare intently at the spot. After a while I see something bobbing around for a while then making its way back to the shore. It’s very hard to see clearly, but it looks like it’s standing up on its hind legs and walking around. A human? My heart jumps, could there really be a human out here?
  235.  
  236. I see the figure walk away from the lake shore and disappear back into the tree line. I have to try to catch up to him. It strikes me that I’m embarrassed to be seen this way, what would another person even do if they could see me. Might they get frightened and harm me, or worse? If this is a human, I’ll try to approach him as carefully as possible.
  237.  
  238. *******
  239.  
  240. I look around trying to figure out the best way to get down to the lake, and I start worrying that if I waste too much time I might never catch up with the person I think I saw. Many of the ways down are far too steep for me to take on safely, and there’s no way I’ll be able to climb down anything given my newfound lack of hands and feet.
  241.  
  242. The lake itself looks clear and deep. My blood runs a little cold as I consider the possibility of trying to jump down. I get close to the edge and peer over. It’s almost a straight drop of 30 or more feet with boulders near the base of the cliff right below where I am, but I see what looks like a clearer jump from the other side of the stream. I practice taking a running jump over the stream to get across, though it’s a rather narrow gap to begin with. I’m impressed with the amount of distance I clear. This helps me get my nerves up that I’ll be able to jump far enough out to land in water deep enough to break my fall.
  243.  
  244. I back way up from the edge and get a running start of almost 200 feet. I take off at a dead sprint, my mane rustling in the breeze as I darted toward the edge. I’m amazed by the amount of speed I’m able to pick up. I reach the edge and leap with every bit of strength I can muster. I feel almost like I’m flying as I fall towards the water while maintaining my forward momentum. The fall seems a lot longer than it really is, but it must be the adrenaline. I feel a lot less brave as I rapidly come to the water, my front hooves crashing in first then the rest of me. The initial impact with the surface hurts, but I manage to hold my breath and not let it knock the wind out of me.
  245.  
  246. The water is cold, my eyes shoot open and I see that the momentum of my fall carrying me down deeper. I slow to a stop just as my hooves make contact with the floor of the lake. It was just barely deep enough. I kick off the floor as hard as I can and rise to the surface. I have never swam as a pony before and I’m in deep water; I start to worry I won’t be able to as I continue to rise back up to the surface.
  247.  
  248. My head finally breaches the surface of the lake and I cough and gasp for air, flailing my hooves gracelessly. I can just barely tread water and I struggle to keep my head above water. I go on like this for a while, yelping feebly for help while trying to keep air in my lungs before I finally start getting the hang of it out of sheer necessity. I’m able to dog paddle with my hooves, slowly moving myself forward. It takes me a while to get to the shore of the lake, but I finally do. I’m happy to be on dry land again.
  249.  
  250. The air seems freezing cold back on land, and my coat is soaking wet. I do a poor job of trying to shake off the excess moisture, and I remember that it’s important that I get to the person I saw earlier while I still have any chance of finding them. I gallop over to where I remembered seeing him jumping in and swimming earlier.
  251.  
  252. Finally I see footprints in the sandy dirt; I immediately recognize them as person’s footprints. Among the footprints left by the stranger, I see my own hoof prints. I walk up to a particularly clear impression of the human’s print and push my own front hoof into the ground next to it. I back up a pace and just stare sadly at the two prints next to each other for a while.
  253.  
  254. I snap out of it and follow the prints for as long as I can before the ground gets too hard for there to be any clear prints left. I run forward the general direction he was travelling, but I start to feel panicked that he might have turned off some way, and he’s definitely had enough time to get far away if he didn’t make camp nearby. I start galloping forward and crying and shouting for help. The sound of my voice still disturbs me, it takes me off guard. I’d be just as surprised to hear my old voice, though it would be a pleasant surprise; no, my voice has been taken much like everything else.
  255.  
  256. “Hello? Hello! Is someone out there?” a male voice shouts out in the distance. Conflicting waves of hope and terror wash over me at hearing the man’s voice. I’m not ready for this encounter. I dive into a nearby bush, trembling. He’s going to see me, a little pony freak of nature. What is he going to do? What am I going to do? I can’t control myself and I sob as I hear his footsteps nearing me, slowing from a run to a walk. My own crying must have given away my position.
  257.  
  258. “Are you in there?” Everything’s going to be alright. He approaches the bush. “Everything’s going to be alright.” I try to lay perfectly silent “Hello? Can you hear me? Are you okay? Are you hurt? Are you…” I feel him push aside part of the bush, exposing part of my back and tail. “What? What are you?”
  259.  
  260. I suddenly jump up and stumble back away from him. I’m crying and I feel so overwhelmingly afraid of him. “Please, j-just don’t come near me. Don’t hurt me…” I beg.
  261.  
  262. “You speak?” he stares. His expression is utterly incredulous. “Are you real? I must be seeing things…” He steps closer, but stops when he sees me react by flinching, and stumbling back, tripping over myself. “What are you?” he repeats.
  263.  
  264. “I’m a p-pony,” I stutter tearfully. “I’m lost and I n-need help.” I look up at him, shaking uncontrollably. He towers over me, probably more than six feet tall. He has medium length dark hair which he’s kept clean and nice looking despite being in the wilderness. He’s dressed for the outdoors.
  265.  
  266. “This is not possible,” he breathes. Sympathy fills his expression and he speaks gently “I’ll help you. You’re going to be okay… I mean you no harm.” He furrows his brow and continues to stare intently at me, as though not believing his own eyes. “I’m sorry I scared you.”
  267.  
  268. I choke on my tears and throw myself at him. I rear up on my hind legs and throw my hoofs around his upper waist. I cry openly with my face pressed into his chest He supports my embrace with a single hand on my back, and the other hand on the back of my head. I tremble uncontrollably in his arms, still fearful and shivering from the cold.
  269.  
  270. “You’re soaking wet.” He observes, rubbing the crest of my mane with one hand.
  271.  
  272. “I saw you at the lake… I needed… just someone, anyone.” I explained. “I jumped in after you.”
  273.  
  274. “This is too surreal…” he trails off for a moment. “If you’d come back to my camp, I could help you dry off and get warmed up. I have towels and a small fire lit.” He loosens his hold on me as he bobs his head around looking me over “Are you hurt? I could carry you.”
  275.  
  276. “No,” I reply. “I can walk.” I let go of him and my front legs fall back to the ground.
  277.  
  278. As we walk back to his camp, he leads the way with me at his side. He looks at me constantly though, staring. It’s like he is worried I’ll suddenly disappear into thin air like a figment of his imagination. It makes me self-conscious the way he stares.
  279.  
  280. *******
  281.  
  282. We arrive at his campsite, it’s minimalistic, with a small tent and temporary looking fire pit that is currently extinguished. He tells me to wait while he gets things from his tent. I sit patiently, and he comes out with a clean blue towel. He extends his arm as though to hand it to me and stops short. We make eye contact and he seems to quietly realize the difficulty I’d have in using it.
  283.  
  284. “Do you need me to help dry you off?” He wonders aloud.
  285.  
  286. Embarrassed, I cast my eyes down and say “I would appreciate the help.”
  287.  
  288. He rubs me all over with the towel, starting with my back, drying my coat. The physical contact feels good. I’ve been so desperately lonely the past days that this makes me feel warm and calm. He ruffles my mane with the towel, making my mane a bit of a mess. He apologizes, roughly stroking his fingers through my mane and putting my hair back in place.
  289.  
  290. He uses a pocket lighter and some kindling to get the fire pit going. I sit near and feel thankful for its warmth. I stare deeply into the flames.
  291.  
  292. “So uh…” the stranger sits across the fire from me. “Where exactly are you from? How do you know how to speak English? A brightly colored, talking pony seems kind of impossible to me. Do you understand?”
  293.  
  294. I look at him flatly and tell the truth, “I used to be a human like you. “There is some sort of laboratory out here. I was taken from my home, kidnapped. They changed me.” I could feel tears welling up in my eyes, “they took me, and they took everything from me. Change me into this, into a pony.”
  295.  
  296. The stranger ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. “I must be going crazy or seeing things. This is too much… Where is this lab supposed to be?”
  297.  
  298. “There was a stream that I followed to the lake, up that way,” I gestured with my hoof in the general direction I thought it was in. “They let me go, but I can’t go back there. I need you to take me back to civilization so I can get help. Maybe there’s a way to undo what they did to me?” I made eye contact with him. “Where are you from? Can you please take me back with you?”
  299.  
  300. “I came here to survey a bit and enjoy myself hiking around the island-” he began, but I cut him off.
  301.  
  302. “What do you mean island? This is an island?!” I interjected.
  303.  
  304. “Well yes, a rather large one at that, out in the Pacific. It’s rumored to be dangerous, but I just couldn’t keep myself away,” he smiled.
  305.  
  306. I feel cold. There was never any hope. I’d have kept running and running until I hit the ocean. There’s no civilization to escape to here…
  307.  
  308. “Hey, are you alright?” he waves in front of me, snapping me out of it.
  309.  
  310. “Please, take me back with you. Take me away from this place.” I request.
  311.  
  312. “We’ll break camp and leave for my boat first thing tomorrow morning. It’s a full day’s hike away from here, and I think we could both use a bit of rest before then.”
  313.  
  314. *******
  315.  
  316. I spend the next several hours getting familiar with the stranger. He tells me his name and talks a lot about his boating and adventures. I tell him about the life I had at university, and I try to better explain what happened to me and how I came to be Lily. I mention being a fan of “My Little Pony” and he finds it odd, and odder still that I’d find myself transformed into a cartoony pony.
  317.  
  318. Around dusk he starts preparing food, including some dehydrated beef. He asks me if I’m still able to eat meat like a human. I tell him I’m unsure. He cuts a small bit and offers it to me, “Here.” The taste is familiar, but gross. It’s much less appetizing than I’d remembered. I politely spit it out and shake my head. He gives me some crackers and some sliced up bits of apple which are really good.
  319.  
  320. “I’m going to go find some grass to much on,” I tell him. “Don’t wander too far,” he calls back. I find a nice patch of yummy looking grass and as I eat, I reflect on how lucky I am to have found someone. He’s nice to me too, even though I’m a pony. He seems to think it’s weird and wrong, but he’s been rather accepting of me, and willing to help too. It might be due to how lonely and broken I am after the past few days, but I feel like I could almost be in love with him. I shake my head and try to not think about that. I don’t think I could love a man, even though I’ve been forcefully turned into a female, I’m not sure I could love a male. I’m just not sure.
  321.  
  322. *******
  323.  
  324. Night eventually comes, and he lets me sleep in his tent next to him. It’s a little cramped, but I’m grateful to be sheltered. I lay a little closer to him than I really have to. He sleeps in a light sleeping bag that he packed, but I’m fine with just my light fur coat. I feel safe with him. I brush his shoulder with a hoof and quietly say “Thank you,” to him before I drift off.
  325.  
  326. ####### Day 5 #######
  327.  
  328. I yawn and wake up feeling comfortable and warm, lying in a bed with a white sheet draped loosely over me. I don’t want to get out of bed. I slowly open my eyes. I’m in a small room lined with what looks like large dull white tiles. Wait, this is wrong. No. “NO!” I shout falling out of the unfamiliar bed I woke up in. They came and got me. They took me back. This can’t be happening. This isn’t a good place to be.
  329.  
  330. My eyes dart back and forth. No clear doors, nothing at all. I throw my shoulder against the walls, slamming into them, but nothing gives and I start to panic. It’s a holding cell. How long are they going to keep me here? “Who are you people!?” I cry out, to no answer. “How can you do this to someone? Please, please, I just want to go home.” I sit on the floor trying to maintain my composure, breathing heavily.
  331.  
  332. It was him. It must have been. How could I be so stupid? How could I be so desperate that I’d just throw myself at someone like that? He must be in on this, a conspiracy. He lied to me. He was never going to help me, nobody ever will. I’m alone in the world now. He must work here, yes he must have been sent to round me up, drug me and drag me back to this awful place when they saw I wasn’t stupid enough to come back on my own.
  333.  
  334. It doesn’t make sense though. Why did they let me go in the first place if they were going to drag me back here? What do these people want with me? Who could do something like this to a person? They took my very humanity away from me and turned me into a pink little joke. I could never function in society like this. They ruined me. Alive and breathing though I am, I feel like they’ve killed what I was. Family and friends probably count me as a missing person, and given enough time, perhaps they’ll assume I was dead and start to forget about me. I almost wish I was dead.
  335.  
  336. It just doesn’t make sense… I thought I felt genuine compassion from him. If nothing else, he seemed genuinely confused by my appearance. They did seem to say that this was an experiment; they didn’t know what would happen to me. I must have just lacked the intuition to see that he was lying. I feel a bit betrayed by what he did. Why did he pretend? Why didn’t he just manhandle me and drag me back here? The attitudes of everyone here confuse me, they seem off.
  337.  
  338. “Good morning Lily,” A calm female voice comes over an intercom in the room. They know my name without asking. I suppose it makes sense since this is the name they gave me, but they said they didn’t know what would happen... Did they choose this name? He was the only one I told, it must have been him. “Please eat and drink,” the voice continued. The bed I had woken up on suddenly shifted, and making a mechanical noise like gears shifting, tilted up flat against the wall. The bed has the same tiled pattern on its underside as the walls themselves. With a sound like a hydraulic hissing, it recedes into the wall without a trace, leaving the room completely bare. Suddenly, on the other side of the room, a rectangular segment of the wall near the floor slowly swings out at a 45 degree angle, making a little trough. I saw that the trough was split in the middle by a divider, on the left side there was water and on the right side there were oats and sliced up apples. The divider itself has a single sugar cube sitting on it.
  339.  
  340. “What is this?!” I shout, but I receive no answer “What if I refuse?”
  341.  
  342. The room remains dead silent for a moment before the voice repeats, “Please eat and drink Lily. We want you to stay in good health. We were very worried about you, and we want to make sure that you are happy and healthy?”
  343.  
  344. “THEN FUCKING CHANGE ME BACK!” I scream, half crying. “GIVE ME BACK THE LIFE I HAD IF YOU WANT ME TO BE HAPPY!” This time the voice remains quiet.
  345.  
  346. As nervous as I am about taking anything from these people, I am hungry and the food looks inviting. I slowly munch on the apples and oats. They’re crunchy and good, the best tasting thing I’ve had in days. In fact, I’m not sure whether I’ve found my new favorite food, or whether I will hate them forever because I associate them with this very moment. The water is clean and refreshing. The meal calms me down a bit, and is immensely satisfying. I stare curiously at the sugar cube for a while before licking that up too. It dissolves a little and I give it a gentle crunch. The sweet taste makes me feel a little happy, this is a nice treat. These things don’t taste different to me per say, but my tastes and preferences have without a doubt shifted to those of a pony.
  347.  
  348. I take another sip of water and then walk away from the trough; it closes up behind me. The voice sounds again “Thank you, Lily. We hope you enjoyed.”
  349.  
  350. A door sized rectangular portion of the wall recedes with a hiss on the far end of the room. I turn to look at it, and it slides aside like a sliding door. Beyond it I can see only a very dark corridor. I need to get out, I start running for the door when a man steps through and the wall snaps shut again faster than I can get through the opening. I crash into his legs and trip a bit. “Damn it,” I shout, exasperated.
  351.  
  352. I look up at him, and immediately recognize the man who injected me with whatever it was, the stuff that made me transform into a pony. “Lily,” he speaks calmly. I hate him.
  353.  
  354. “You son of a bitch,” I begin with my voice shaking; “look what you did to me… You changed me, you ruined my life. LOOK AT ME!” I turn and buck my hind legs into his hard, hard enough that I know I’m trying to break his legs. He stumbles back and catches himself, surprisingly he remains completely unharmed.
  355.  
  356. “Lily,” he repeats, but I am not interested in what he has to say.
  357.  
  358. “How could you do this to another person? I didn’t want this! What kind of monster are you?! You took MY humanity away! How could a person do this to another person? How could YOU be a human?! T-treat me like a lab rat?!” I scream with tears in my eyes. Again I buck him, this time angled slightly upward, catching him square in the chest. He bounces back against the wall. “WHY!?” I scream, bucking again so hard it lifts him a little off his feet. “HOW?!” Again I buck my hind hooves into his chest with every ounce of strength I have, this time I hear dull cracking as his chest collapses. His body hits the wall and slumps lifelessly down to the floor.
  359.  
  360. I stand over him triumphantly for a moment before it hits me. I kick at him with a front hoof, he’s dead. Shaking uncontrollably I mumble, “W-what have I done?” I press myself against the far wall and rock back and forth for a while. My eyes are wide and I bring my front hooves up to my head. “What have I done?!” What are they going to do to me now? This was stupid and horrible.
  361.  
  362. A muffled voice echoes outside the walls of my cell, the same female voice I heard over the PA “Shell damage detected in Sector 4-9-D Guestroom 2 A.” The floor tiles the dead body came to rest on give way and he sinks below the level of the floor slowly. Fresh, clean panels slide in and take their place, again leaving you alone in a mostly featureless chamber. Did they refer to this as a “guest room?” These people must be some kind of psychopaths…
  363.  
  364. *******
  365.  
  366. I sit in silence for a while trying to take in what happened for a while before the voice comes on again over the PA, “Subject Lily, you attacked and badly damaged a shell just now, are you okay?”
  367.  
  368. “A shell?” I repeat in confusion.
  369.  
  370. “This facility is largely maintained by computerized systems and artificial or simulated intelligence,” the voice answers, sounding as passive as a prerecorded message, “we do still employ some humans at this facility, but over the years we have been slowly phasing them out. We maintain a variety of android-like ‘shells’ that give these systems a face, allowing us to interact with humans in a more personal and lifelike way.”
  371.  
  372. “That thing was a machine?” I state with a note of disbelief in my voice.
  373.  
  374. “Subject Lily, we provide these machines to help you, and to provide more meaningful interactions with you. We have come to realize that we may have made a mistake sending a humanoid to you, and will instead allow you to interact with your own kind from this point forward.”
  375.  
  376. The voice clicks off, and I’m left standing dumbfounded. I’m interrupted as a panel on the ceiling opens up and a small earth pony mare drops down gracefully to the floor with a clank. She’s pure white in color, with a black mane and tail, both neatly cropped into a bob cut. I can only assume she’s one of these machines, these androids. Her flank is completely blank and devoid of a cutie mark.
  377.  
  378. She stares into my eyes and smiles. Her eyes are a piercing and striking electric blue. “Lily, try and stay calm if you can. I’m sure you have lots of questions of your own too.”
  379.  
  380. *******
  381.  
  382. I step back, unsure of whether I should talk to this thing; I should resist and keep to myself. It looks just as real as me, but if they’re to be believed, it is some kind of diabolical machine. They said the lab still employs some humans, but they made it sound like there was some kind of takeover by rouge, power-crazy artificial intelligence. The warning letter I got in the mail before all of this… Perhaps it was one of those people who still work here.
  383.  
  384. “You’re thinking of a warning letter you received shortly before being enrolled in our program,” the machine pony states matter-of-factly.
  385.  
  386. “What the fuck…” I whisper under my breath, stepping back slowly. They can read my thoughts?
  387.  
  388. “We can’t exactly read your thoughts, per say,” she answers, “We have been monitoring your neural activity with relative precision for several days now. Decoding this neural activity into conscious thoughts can prove challenging. We are able to decode things like the virtual auditory and visual stimuli involved in recalling memories, not to mention your sense of internal dialogue and whatever you’re currently seeing and hearing.”
  389.  
  390. “How is this possible? How are you doing this to me? Who are you?” I stammer fearfully.
  391.  
  392. “Oh, you can call me Aeiou,” she answers with a smile.
  393.  
  394. “A-Aeiou?” I repeat, bringing a hoof to my forehead in frustration. “Ugh.”
  395.  
  396. “Aeiou!” She repeats cheerfully. “You are thinking of it incorrectly. It is E.I.U. Equine Interface Unit.”
  397.  
  398. I sigh and think to myself, ‘Fuck this, I’m just calling it Aeiou.”
  399.  
  400. “Very well then!” Aeiou answers.
  401.  
  402. It’s answering my thoughts… I feel like I’m going to snap. “Get out of my head. How are you doing this? GET OUT OF MY HEAD RIHT NOW YOU BASTARDS!” I scream; feelings of paranoia and panic rise up inside me.
  403.  
  404. “Lily, please. Stay calm. We planned to discontinue the level of monitoring you are currently on soon, we just need to-“
  405.  
  406. “No! NO! Stop this right now,” I demand.
  407.  
  408. Aeiou sighs, “Very well, follow me. The variety of nanites circulating your body needs to be manually removed and decommissioned anyway before they do something unexpected. Follow.”
  409.  
  410. A panel in the wall opens up and Aeiou pulls out a length of rope with her mouth. Before I even realize what she’s doing she pins me to the floor and expertly ties a bit gag around my muzzle with it. I am a little shocked by how quickly she can move, and with so much dexterity. She ties the other end of the rope to one of her forelegs and yanks it, forcing me to move forward with her. The door leading out to the hallway opens. The hall is now dimly lit rather than being completely blacked out. Aeiou leads. I need to escape, but there’s nowhere to go. I reason that if a chance presents itself I need to take it, but now is not the time. Nanotechnology, is that how they did this to me?
  411.  
  412. Aeiou speaks while we continue to walk, “By the way, that warning letter you were thinking about earlier, we were the ones who sent it to you. We find that it helps if test subjects blame themselves a little for what’s happening, for failing to take a clear warning. Sure it was a bit vague, but we really just needed it to remind you that we have been very sporting, and you had a chance to avoid all of this. In a way, this really is your fault, if you’d run we would have not wasted our time chasing you. There were other candidates.” My blood boils, and I want to smash this thing, but there will be more, and for now at least they can apparently hear my every thought.
  413.  
  414. Eventually we come to a door marked with electromagnetism warnings, it slides open and we step into a large white room with a high ceiling. It’s mostly empty except for a large piece of equipment that looks like an oversized MRI machine.
  415.  
  416. “Get in,” Aeiou orders. I hesitate. “It’s not going to hurt you, just get into the machine, and it’s going to remove and deactivate the nanites currently embedded in you. We have gathered more than enough data from you and you seem to want your privacy back so do it.”
  417.  
  418. “How do I know you’re not just trying to trick me?” I nervously look at the chamber.
  419.  
  420. She scowled back at me callously, “You were almost stolen from us, and this is not acceptable. We want to remove our property from you, to ensure there are no close calls like that again. There will be time for more of your silly questions later. You are the one who just HAD to do this right now… Well, here we are, so just get in.” She undoes the rope and motions with her head for me to get in.
  421.  
  422. I don’t have much choice. I climb in and a panel slides shut behind me. The machine emits a loud whirring hum. It feels like everything is violently vibrating for several moments and suddenly my skin emits a light pop all over, and a cloud of silvery smoke or mist hangs around me for a moment before sizzling and sparking with electricity as though shorting out. I hold my breath and try moving away from the mist as it dissipates.
  423.  
  424. I hear a voice outside the chamber saying "There, that wasn't so bad, now was it!" The panel opens up and I emerge from the device.
  425.  
  426. *******
  427.  
  428. "What exactly did you even put into me?" I ask while emerging from the machine.
  429.  
  430. "You'd like to know more about the experiment?" Aeiou smirks condescendingly, "Sure, we can tell you. Try and pay attention, most of this will probably go over your head anyways." She looks at the far wall as a large portion of the tiles flash from white to blue, and then black. An image of what looks like a visual representation of a brain cell or nerve displays on the screen, alongside smaller structures which I don't recognize.
  431.  
  432. "One of our primary scientific goals here is studying and understanding interactions between nanotechnology and biological systems. The substance we injected you with was actually a mixture of several different classes of nanomachines that we've observed to create unexpected and unique effects. We believe that it's due to some synergistic interaction between these classes of machines, but we continue to learn about the specifics through observation and testing."
  433.  
  434. "But why human testing?" I interrupt. "Why not use rats or some other lab animal?"
  435.  
  436. Aeiou looked upset about being interrupted, "Compared to us, you seem about on par with a lab animal. However to answer your question, we found by accident that the mixture we administered to you induces various exotic effects that seem to be linked to the consciousness of the subject. The majority of 'lesser' test animals seemed to just panic and melt, but humans exhibit a variety of changes. You're not the first instance of species change we've seen. In fact, we mentioned this property was discovered accidentally. One of our human employees accidentally unwittingly exposed himself to a small amount of the exact same preparation we gave you. He ended up turning into a house cat."
  437.  
  438. The screen displayed images of a computer model of a man transforming into a cat. My eyes widened as I watched the disturbing spectacle. "It took him months to turn, as we mentioned, he was exposed to much lower amounts than you, so you may count yourself lucky in that regard. I might also add that he was unfortunate enough as to lose most of his intellect in the event. In some other cases, we had people become monster like creatures that unfortunately died on their own due to instability had to be put down due to violent behavior. You Lily, are the first instance we've seen of a viable new species, and we were also impressed to see you maintained most of your cognitive ability."
  439.  
  440. "As I mentioned, the X92D77-A we have tested on you is actually a mixture of several types of nanomachines; we call these machines Communicators, Monitors, Builders, and Transmitters. Communicators were developed on their own to advance optogenetic neural controllers." The image of a brain cell came back into view on the machine alongside what I can only assume to be one of the machines they're describing. "These machines use tiny lasers to interface with neurons and if necessary, provide precise control. This method allows us to gather data on your nervous system and thoughts. These machines are designed to communicate amongst themselves through chemical signaling and low power radio transmissions, but we find that they work in unexpected ways when combined with additional types of machines. Observations have led us to believe that Communicators actively scan the nervous system of their host searching for basic blueprints that can be fed to the other machines."
  441.  
  442. "Builders are nanites that do exactly what the name says, they were designed for rapidly constructing complex molecules from basic materials." The screen shows images of tiny machines with jaw-like manipulators circulating the blood stream. "They are able to manipulate biological systems, but they are prone to carrying out orders in a clumsy manner, repeating their instructions over and over until there is no material left. In isolation they tend to quickly kill off their hosts which isn't of much use to us. X92D77-A contains several different sized Builders ranging from larger machines responsible for relocating cellular tissue to smaller machines which can rapidly rewrite molecules like DNA or proteins atom by atom."
  443.  
  444. I stood there staring sadly at the screen, trying to understand how all of this could turn a human being into the living equivalent of a cartoon pony. I kept quiet as she continued explaining.
  445.  
  446. "We believe that Monitors play an important role in keeping the builders from going too far. They ensure the blueprints gleaned from the nervous system by the communicators is followed perfectly. Our Monitors do a superb job of tracking where they are in space with respect to their nearest neighbors, as well as keeping track of chemical conditions in their immediate surroundings. They serve a dual role in the X92D77-A experiment, allowing us to precisely map out and watch what happens to you remotely. This gives us the ability to let our subjects wander the rest of the property during the test as you chose to, Lily. We get all the data we want, and you get a little personal space which keeps some subjects from completely breaking down mentally."
  447.  
  448. The screen displays up a detailed computer model of me as I was before the changes. I stare sadly at the image with my mouth open slightly. Aeiou notices and pauses for a moment. I feel tears welling up in the corner of my eyes, and I am overcome with profound feeling of loss. Slowly the model begins to shift and change into a pony as I did. The computer generated image of me doesn't write in pain like I did, it maintains a neutral expression and stance and rapidly goes through the changes stopping on an image of me as I currently am, as Lily the pony.
  449.  
  450. Staring out of the corner of her eye at me, she continues, "As you can see, we've remotely documented the effects of our machines on you in great detail. This brings us to the last, but not least of the nanites involved in your transition to ponydom. The Transmitters help tie everything together and allow us to track your location." A map of the island displays on the screen; I am taken aback with the immense size of the island. My path across the island was highlighted in red. "Transmitters use energy borrowed from sugar molecules in your blood to transmit high power radio signals that enable quick communication between nanites in distant parts of your body, as well as giving us a signal to triangulate your position and record scientific data from you."
  451.  
  452. Still staring at the map I wonder aloud, "How is it that you avoid outside scrutiny even on this island? Everything is visible from space, and there's no way they missed something of this size. This land has to be owned by some country right? Where in the world are we?"
  453.  
  454. The map on the wall zooms out. I look at it for a moment before recognizing it, "Japan?" A large triangular region south of Japan is highlighted on the map.
  455.  
  456. Aeiou answers, "An artificially created island located in the 'Dragon's Triangle' also known as the 'Devil's Sea.' You may be more familiar with the so called 'Bermuda Triangle;' this region is located on the polar opposite end of the Earth, and is regarded with similar superstition. The island itself is impossible to see at a distance, shrouded in a cloud of nanoparticles that give the illusion of there being nothing here. It's possible for sailors or small aircraft to accidentally wander into our property, but we're usually only visited by people who come looking for trouble. In either case their disappearance is given little notice, just another victim of the mysterious Triangle."
  457.  
  458. I look at the ground sadly, "You'd never tell me these things if I were ever going to get out of here... So what now, are you going to dissect me like a lab animal?"
  459.  
  460. Aeiou looks offended at the suggestion, "You're one of a kind, an endangered species even. To kill you would be a crime against science, and against everything this facility stands for."
  461.  
  462. "Then please, please change me back. You said you had all the data you wanted right? Please just let me go back," I beg.
  463.  
  464. She shakes her head. "The kind of treatment you’ve undergone is disruptive to just about every cell in your body. Your transformation into a pony is very complete, even down to your DNA. During the process a complete genome sequence was computed and created in such a way that it matches the body you now possess, it’s just as though you’d really been born this way, functionally at least. We find that all attempts to subject any cellular matter to a second transformation produce too much instability and results in disintegration. Even if we wanted to change you back, and we do not, it would be beyond us to do so. Trust me, we would never undo all that hard work anyways, Lily. You’re going to live in that body for the rest of your life."
  465.  
  466. I sit on the floor. It's hopeless. I feel completely numb. There is no way back, I'm really going to be stuck like this forever. I was stupid for ever having a shred of hope that things might ever go back to normal. There is no normal. There is no hope.
  467.  
  468. I hear that stupid robot talking to me, but her words wash over me, it seems like she's very far away from me right now. "Hey! Snap out of it! HEY! Alright, that's enough question and answer time for today. Let's get you back to your room for the night, you've had enough to deal with today." I look at her blankly.
  469.  
  470. "Will you follow me back to your room without being restrained?" I stare blankly for a while then nod. We walk back without a word, only the sound of our hoofs beating lightly against the ground breaks the silence. I step back into the room I woke up in as ordered and lay on the ground with my head down.
  471.  
  472. The dead, emotionless, horrible machine that they provided to interact with me stands in the doorway. She speaks softly, "This hasn't been in vain, you've helped us advance our understanding. We needed you for this. There was no other way." I lay still, not responding, it turns around and starts to leave stopping a moment to say, "There was no other way, I'm sorry" The door closes behind her.
  473.  
  474. I close my eyes. It's hopeless.
  475.  
  476. ####### Day 6 #######
  477.  
  478. I draw a deep breath through my nostrils as consciousness returns to me. I sigh, letting the breath out slowly, raising my head but not opening my eyes. I don’t want to get out of bed; I bring my head back down. Fleeting images of a dream linger in my mind. I was with someone, in the home I grew up in as a child… Was I still… human in this dream? I think I remember that I was with a friend and we were filling out paperwork or homework. The details slip from my grasp, lost forever and irrelevant.
  479.  
  480. I feel like I’ve been asleep for a long time, overslept. How could I oversleep though? I’ve got nothing to do today or ever again… I’m an animal now, a captive animal. I lay motionless, but I can feel my body in a way that’s hard to describe. One takes for granted the mundane feelings and sensations conveyed to their brain by the rest of their body, the brain filters it out. This body, this undeniably equine body I find myself trapped in… it defies the expectations of reality my brain has established.
  481.  
  482. Disjointed signals cry out from phantom digits that no longer exist, and are more than missing, replaced by hooves. The bulks of my legs are tucked up parallel against my torso. It feels so incredibly wrong and out of place. My legs shift uncomfortably as I remember my lost manhood. I don’t want to be female. I don’t want to be a pony. I long for even a moment’s reprieve from this nightmare. I cross my arms in front of me and bury my face into them as I try and fail to shut out the feeling and cut myself off from the world but thoughts relentlessly pound through my head.
  483.  
  484. I’m going to wake up as a pony every day for the rests of my life. I am a pony. Would I ever adapt to this feeling and accept this as the new normal? The thought of that happening to me made me almost as uncomfortable as the thought of it never happening. A sense of weariness came over me as I imagined struggling internally against the confines of this body forever, never accepting a thing, feeling the way I do right now forever… I imagine the alternative, just laying down and taking it, accepting this form, forgetting who I was, who I really am. I sigh again as I ponder this impasse. It’s impossible.
  485.  
  486. I feel light headed. This cannot be real. I must be dreaming. This nightmare must be just that, a nightmare and something I can wake from. This cannot be reality. Dreams can span multiple days, so I’ve heard. I’d wake up with vague memories of the past few days, days that never really happened. Maybe I would forget, or maybe I might remember enough to have a silly story to tell friends about this… crazy dream. Could a dream really be this vivid and continuous? Pain should have woken me and there has been so much pain. Perhaps I am in a coma? Do people dream in comas?
  487.  
  488. Could this be the moment at which I have become lucid in this bizarre dream, or is it the moment at which I have begun to lose my grip on reality? I shake my head, I’m in denial. Even if this is not real, the events I’ve experienced have proceeded from one moment to the next without any sign of stopping. There is no escape. I open my eyes and see the room I remember falling asleep in, though I’m again on the bed I woke up in yesterday. Hadn’t I fallen asleep on the floor? Perhaps I was moved while unconscious.
  489.  
  490. Why did I have to be a female pony? Why Lily? Perhaps because of how panicked I’d been while this unwanted metamorphosis ravaged my body. Lily the background pony’s gag was to panic and feint over the smallest issues. I don’t think I have overreacted though. All the same, this was the blueprint my body had been reassembled into resembling. I’m Lily Flowers, and for the life of me I cannot remember my real name, nor the names of anyone I’d known from my real life, my past life. Depression and anxiety weigh heavily on me.
  491.  
  492. I’ve never felt so scared in my life. Scared of what though? There is nothing at stake anymore. Everything is gone, it’s already over. I want out. I don’t want to live like this. I can’t live as a pony. I want to be me again! I sit up and press myself feebly into a corner of the room, my eyes shut tight and my brow furrowed, as a curtain of cerebral terror envelops me. I didn’t want to even get out of bed, but the sense of dread now gripping me is proving to be one hell of a wakeup call. I need to get out! I can’t breathe. I’m stuck, trapped, confined! Trapped in a pony! Please help me! Nobody to ask for help, nothing they could do for me.
  493.  
  494. I want to throw myself against the walls of this prison. I could buck my transformed legs against the wall and scream for mercy… Even if my hooves could smash through the walls of the space I’m being held in there could be no relief. I laugh desperately. I could probably ask nicely enough to be let out of this room and they might let me… But these hooves… are my shackles. I can feel that I’m losing my cool; I need to get a hold of myself. I can’t hold onto anything with my hands confined like this, twisted together into hooves, thumbs forever removed from me; these keratin shackles will bind every moment, every second of my life. I never stopped to appreciate my hands when I was a human being, but their absence… their reduction to hooves, simply for walking on and supporting my body weight.
  495.  
  496. Yes, I could throw myself against the walls, but my self is my prison. My hooves can beat against the walls, but they’re only the outer retaining wall of my ultimate confinement. I stumble forward, and my personal hell moves with me! It is me! I don’t want to look like this anymore! I can feel my heart pounding, and I feel light headed. I try to calm myself from this panic attack. I don’t want to be a girl I want my male parts back! I need to stop before I hurt myself… I need to stop living. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to be an animal!
  497.  
  498. I try to take inventory of myself. I have… four legs, a tail, ears that move and respond to sound, a mane, hooves, and an unwelcome vacancy between my deformed legs, nothing can ever be right. Four legs, for the rest of forever I’d walk on four legs! I miss my personhood. The thought of crawling about on all fours is degrading, animalistic. I’m not a person anymore. I feel like I’m going to be sick from the stress building inside me. I suppress a scream that is rising up inside me, a base, primal scream; it is the fear of death. This is a fate worse than death, this cruel and unnatural punishment. What had I done to deserve this?
  499.  
  500. In my mind I see myself running headlong into the wall as fast and forcefully as I can. Lily falls to the ground with a broken neck, dying. Not me, Lily the pony, my jailor. I can’t be her. I must already be long gone… Not a dignified death, dying as a pony. Her life force fades and the limp, dead body of a little pink pony with blonde hair is left behind on the otherwise immaculate floor of the room I now occupy. I feel tingling pressure in my sinuses and throat as tears flow from my impossibly huge and awkward eyes. I can’t let that be me. I can’t do it. I don’t want to die…
  501.  
  502. Unable to hold back any longer I scream with frantic intensity. I thrash about wildly in my little corner of the room, screaming over and over with all the force my lungs can deliver. “AHHHHH!!! AHHHHHH!!! OH GOD NO, NO, NO!!!! PLEASE MAKE IT STOP!!!!! AHHHHHHHHHH!!!” The feminine quality of my voice only intensifies and drives home the distance I’ve found myself separated from my corporeal comfort zone.
  503.  
  504. My head spins. I need to stop. I need to stop panicking. I need to get up and walk around. I need to get out of my head and occupy myself doing something repetitive. I pace the room nervously on all fours. I’ve only just woke up, and I’m exhausted. Are panic attacks like this just part of being Lily? I need to practice better self-control… I can’t let this happen or I will lose myself. “Me,” the essence of who I am, is still alive inside this pony and under my control. I need to stay sane, even if my corporeal reality has melted away into abject, intolerable wrongness.
  505.  
  506. I pause for a moment to breathe deeply and try to clear my worried mind. I cast my eyes down at my front legs and sigh sadly. Pacing about nervously had indeed done me some good, but even walking reminds me of the one thing I’d really like to forget just for a moment, that I had become a pony. I raise my front right hoof and place it a little bit ahead of me. Keratin shackles, walking on bulky nails on the ends of four big misshapen fingertips. I do the same with my front left hoof and stumble a bit before falling on my belly. I’d completely forgotten about moving my hind legs. I stand back up. I know that when I had somewhere to go, walking and running happened automatically. I’ve already run faster in this body than a human could, I’m made for running. Now that I find myself with nowhere to go, nothing to do but focus on the task of walking, I can barely do it.
  507.  
  508. I gently sit on the floor for a moment, and then bring my upper body down to the floor too. I close my eyes and sigh. I don’t know anything about meditation, but by necessity I resolve to learn as I go. I keep my eyes shut and control my breathing, in through my nostrils and out through my mouth, my little pony muzzle. I try not to think about how my face has been changed; I try to forget the sight of my elongated and slightly protruding muzzle that occupies the lower extremities of my peripheral vision when my eyes are open. I feel calmer. I try to let my mind go blank and lose track of the passage of time.
  509.  
  510. *******
RAW Paste Data