-The Get Chapter 10-

-The Get Chapter 10-

Confusion is the last thing you remember. Why were you confused? You can't recall as your mind drifts softly through a veil of darkness. There's only one question plaguing you: What had just happened? Your face contorts while you strain your brain to remember; desperate to playback the past few minutes. Nothing prevailed.

Silently battling this abrupt amnesia, your senses gradually become more aware of your current situation, and what an utterly bewildering sensation it was. Are you awake or dreaming right now? You can't tell. Perhaps this was one of those... what do they call it? A 'lucid experience'? If it truly is a lucid dream you're having then are you in control over everything? Time to find out, starting with your own limbs.

Attempting to move an arm proves to be a struggle, the elbow joint rigidly locked in place. It was an experience akin to sleep paralysis, something you had encountered many times on those long-lie weekends. In those instances you'd relentlessly try to shake your body until the Devil gave up. That's what your mother had always said sleep paralysis was - the Devil sitting on your body. Strange euphemism, sure, but actually felt quite accurate.

After a few seconds the paralysis steadily loses its grip over your body, and immediately your eyes snap open - What's going on? More importantly, are you now awake? You must be, yet... quickly scanning the surroundings doesn't reveal any recognizable landmarks. Instead a plain of white greets you.
-

Huh... this is a first. You sit up and survey the vast nothingness in all directions. What is this place? There's no sky visible and yet the whole area is bathed in sunlight; the surrounding air feeling neither cool or warm.

Raising an apprehensive hand to examine the pristine ground, you quickly retract it in alarm. To your utter astonishment you had just caught a glimpse of a familiar figure lying motionless on the ground. No way. Kneeling for a closer inspection revealed that the figure was... you. At least, the female form that you know associated yourself with.

What the utter fuck?

This doesn't make any sense; how can you see yourself in 3rd-person? Bending over on all fours to get a closer look at the body only confirms that, it is indeed, you. The facial shape was identical, the now-ginger hair flowed gracefully across the ground, the offensive "20M" cutie mark on the hip plainly visible. Her naked form made the identification easy, albeit making the whole situation awkward. This can't be possible - if you can see yourself lying on the ground then who are 'you' currently?

You glance at your hands. The familiar sight of hair running up your arms greets you, leading to wrinkled and slightly dry-skinned knuckles. In a frenzy you stand up to examine your body thoroughly. Short, thick hair - check; lanky arms - check; knobbly knees - check; dangling package - check. Your stomach leaps in excitement - you've been restored, you're male again!

-

Stunned, you take a moment to process all this: You can't recall how you got here; you can see your female-self lying motionless before you; you appear to be tied to a body that looks exactly how you used to before you stumbled into Equestria. Had the transformation process somehow regressed? No... something much stranger was going on here.

The smile and optimism you had briefly harbored sails away; Where WAS this? What WERE you? Something wasn't right as you start feeling disturbed by this whole situation. Prickling fear travels up the back of your neck as, once again, you stare down at the lifeless female in front of you. This was like something from the Twilight zone. Twilight...?

As soon as the name crosses your mind an instant tirade of anger washes over you; your hands clench into fists so tight that the nails dig right into your palm. Why the hell does that name provoke such a sudden, violent reaction? If only your mind wasn't so fogged at the moment you wish, as groggily you try to file through your brain for an answer. It didn't want to cooperate.

Frustrated, you slump to the ground to sit next to your lifeless female counterpart. Was she real? While touching an unconscious girl was in the 'potentially creepy' territory, it's not like there was anyone around to see it. You hesitate. What if you prod her? Maybe she'll wake up, maybe even provide needed answers.

"Fuck it" comes your final thought as you boldly extend a determined index finger.

-

In all honestly you thought trying to wake your female doppelganger was a fruitless endeavor. Expecting no reaction you firmly jab a finger into her side, only meeting the cold touch of her skin. At least, you thought you'd met it, until you notice your entire hand passes right into her side. Holy fuck.

Disturbed, yet intrigued, you move closer to examine this strange phenomenon. Sure enough you're moving your hand cleanly through her chest and stomach as if she was made of nothing more than vapor. What the hell was this? Trying to piece this current clusterfuck together draws one conclusion: This is all a dream. It had to be. Christ, your head was starting to pound.

In fact, the tips of your fingers were pounding too. The sudden sensation of 20 paper cuts slashing into existence at the side of your nails causes you to yelp, withdrawing your hand as you flinch. Shit, what'd you just do? A quick examination shows no immediate signs of damage on your hands as far as you can see, yet there's definite, agonizing pain emanating from around the nails. It felt as though they were somehow growing sideways, forcefully detaching the surrounding skin.

Hurriedly flicking your fingers through the air in an attempt soothe the invisible - but growing - irritations in your flesh, your eyes stray back to the figure on the floor. You double-take, shocked by what you see; your stomach feeling as if it has been flooded with ice.

The hands on the female doppelganger are contorting.

-

Stunned, you watch as her nails slowly protrude outwards like foul worms. At the same time it feels as if your own nails are growing. Yet, as you glance down at your hand there's nothing visually abnormal - what was going on? It was like you were some kind of antenna tuned to receive experiences transmitted from other people. That's when the penny drops. Shit.

Aghast at your realization you take a step back - the female lying on the ground WAS you. She had to be the representation of your physical form. As for the male form you currently resided in... the words "You're still you on the inside, no matter what you may look like" echo from the depths of your mind. Who'd spoke those words of wisdom to you? You can't remember, but it draws you to a ludicrous, utterly bizarre and ridiculous conclusion: You were, currently, your conscious.

That explained everything; how else could you be male again? How else could you see, and more importantly, sense what's happening around you? That has to mean this whole situation is playing out in your head. Does that make it real?

Before you get time to dwell further on this strange theory, searing pain gushes from the tips of your fingers. Wincing as discomfort reaches maximum you hastily tuck your fingers under your armpits - why do small cuts always sting the most? What was happening to your physical form to cause these sharp pains? Deep down, in your heart of hearts, you knew. You fucking knew. This was it, the end of the line.

-

Not now. Not like this. Your pulse quickens, panic bubbling violently in your chest. Vile thoughts drift before you as the magnitude of the current situation resonates. The first basic instinct surfaces: run. Where to? In the brief moments your eyes had strayed from the ground you hadn't seen either an exit or entrance to this place. Frantically looking over your shoulders doesn't help; the surrounding nothingness leaving you stranded.

Giving your female form a last fearful glance you take in more details of her right hand. It was revolting. Her fingernails - as if suddenly possessed - were growing untamed; their length sprouting far beyond the fingertip's boundaries. Yet, instead of going outwards the nails were instead doubling-back, curling into the palm of the hand. Worst still, you can sense the ghost of this disfiguration on your own hand. It's horrific, as if sharp razor blades were being dug under each fingernail; violently twisting and ripping your sturdy keratin nails off the soft flesh beneath. Your knees buckle as sickness threatens to engulf you.

Landing flat on your rump unfortunately gives you a front-row seat of the abomination before you. The nails that had tightly curled into the palm were now congealing; forming a single, solid unit. Was that... a hoof? No, no fucking away. Heart thumping, barely able to catch your breath, you try to scramble back onto your feet. No success, the remaining strength draining from your body. How do you stop this?!

-

Then a new sensation begins; a sensation so soothing and unique it's unlike anything you've ever experienced. Pleasurable warmth and comfort slowly caress your body, as if dreamily sinking into a luxurious, viscous liquid. Every inch of skin bathed in this new force subsequently became relieved of all anxiety. This bewildering - yet relaxing - sensation seems to originate from the scalp, and instinctively you run a fumbling hand through your hair trying to locate a source.

Ignoring how long and thin your hair had suddenly felt, you fail to pinpoint what's causing this euphoric vibe to gush through you. The sensation is a complete contrast to the relentless, bitter stinging that continued radiating from each ruined fingernail. On the contrary, this new feeling was... enjoyable, hell, even pleasurable. It was overpowering, causing all will to fighting to ebb away. With each passing second you become less aware of the surroundings and much less aware of any pain, the mysterious relaxing force beginning to coat your face and neck.

Your brain begins to feel fluffy; all negative emotions of stress and panic are pushed away deep inside. Clumsily you bring both hands to your head, placing them above your ears to cradle your skull. It was like your brain was being massaged from the inside, somehow causing the roof of your mouth to tingle in a sensual way. You barely take notice of the euphoric sensation trickling into your ears. What's... happening?

-

Should you be embracing this unearthly experience? Doubt fails to rise in your mind, instead goosebumps rising over your torso; the tingling force reaching the back of your neck and continuing to travel lovingly down your spine. These sensations were on parallel with someone softly blowing in your ear or running a smooth finger down your back - triggering shivers that make your scalp prickle; making the roof of your mouth contract pleasurably.

You can't fight this anymore - like reaching the point of no return before a climax. The soothing ecstasy flowing over your body was - if it hadn't already - winning you over. Thoughts stubbornly try to batter their way through your thickly-coated mind, but don't reach their goal as you remain deeply spaced out.

The experience continues as invisible hands stroke under your neck and chin, clasping around your mouth. At the same time the base of your ears steadily grow warm. Warmer. In fact, the flesh securing them to your head was bubbling, melting as delicately as hot butter. Sensing this you dully try to scratch your ear like a sleepy dog fighting a irksome fly. Instead, it brings to your attention that your ear has started to slowly drift further up your head. Uh oh. No, this has to stop! But... try as you might to get upset, angry or even depressed at the current situation, it just wasn't enough. Even the orange-furred ears you spot sprouting on your female form's head doesn't provoke the right reaction anymore.
-

Were your true emotions being suppressed by the continuous ecstasy invading your body? Just as you start trying to form a debate, it engulfs your shoulders and chest. Powerful, thrilling spasms begin to reverb through your rib cage and diaphragm; apparently the hollowness inside your chest acting as an successful amplifier. With each passing moment the pleasure only grew stronger, building up to a point where your stomach felt full-to-bursting with butterflies, leaving you squirming helplessly. Drool uncontrollably leaks from your mouth as it begins to grows numb, your teeth and tongue reshaping to the will of the euphoric sensations.

No other thoughts were being processed by your brain anymore; only the positively-sensual pleasure that was emanating from all over your body were filtered through. Was this what it felt like to have your brain shut down? Or was it closer to a full-body orgasm? A sudden flick at the top of your head distracts you from the question, but before you can investigate it your knees buckle further into themselves. It's a good thing you're already sprawled weakly on the ground because at that precise moment your legs started twisting and snapping into the wrong position. Strangely it wasn't uncomfortable at all, each bone-grinding twitch feeling like a long, luxurious stretch.

Trying to regain your composure you awkwardly attempt to sit up - continuing to lie on your back might make for a difficult position to recover if this continued.

-

Sitting up, the heavenly tingles stroke the base of your spine. The delicate skin on the small of your back tenses up, so much so that you actually feel the skin twitching. Discomfort follows as the muscles cramp up and itch uncontrollably, it was like your skin was desperate to sneeze. Attempting to scratch your own back ends in failure as you come to realize: You fingers aren't cooperating; you can't bend your arms that far back anymore. The time to be concerned about such things had long passed; all that mattered now was this itch you couldn't scratch.

Begging for release works, as all suddenly something soft and silky bursts dramatically from the small of your back. Damn, it felt so satisfying. Did you just shit yourself? No... something ticklish is flowing from the base of your spine. Groggily you turn round to view what'd just escaped your body, but the large tongue expanding in your mouth proved to be too distracting. It throbbed uncomfortably; your mouth suddenly being too small to accommodate it. For the first time in a while panic begins to surface: what if you choke?

Deep breaths. In through the nose, out from the mouth. This only makes you aware that air isn't entering your nose from the proper location. Tenderly placing a heavy hand on your face to examine your new complexion, you are instead met with a solid hoof. Hoof? Something inside you screams. You ignore it, too deeply entranced by the pleasuring vibrations playing with your body like dough.

-

Unable to contain the pure ecstasy coursing through your veins you end up crumpling back onto the ground writhing and squirming in place. The overly-large tongue that had threatened to ruin the moment gradually deflates; had your mouth shrunk? Lolling onto your back causes something to brush your legs, and in awe you stare at the bushy red-haired tail flicking before you. The tail's movement disturbs the air, creating a small breeze that draws your attention to the slightly damp area between your legs. Was that... what you think it is?

Sudden pressure at the base of your ankle takes you by surprise; your heel progressively sinking into the base of your foot. At the same time, the nails on your toes start to imitate what your fingernails had done previously - growing beyond control and curling tightly back into your foot. There was no pain this time, but instead the luxurious sensation of a generous foot massage. You let out stifled moans of satisfaction, only then realizing how heavily you'd been breathing.

Deciding to take it slower, you try taking another deep breath of relaxation. However, the resulting sigh gets lost in transition as at that moment the whole of your neck starts to constrict; the walls of your throat vibrating and tickling unpleasantly. Your panting quickly turns into coughing in a bid to dislodge this itch. Your head tilts upwards as with a powerful stretch your neck grows both longer and thicker, your trachea opening wider quelling the itch.

-

It was done; your body had finally stopped convulsing and grinding. All that remained were sensual tingles and internal fluttering. Silently, you beg for some kind of release, the muscles in your perineum were in a fierce spasm and it felt so good. God, you were so close, so desperate for a climax, yet... nothing. This scenario brought a bout of déjà vu.

Your rational mind had remained subdued from the tantalizing pleasure; your conscious having willfully submitted to the godly sensations brought by the birth of your new body. During the entire experience nothing had mattered to you as long as the tingles didn't stop. Now they had.

Begrudgingly, you roll your heavy head in the direction of your female self. There didn't appear to be of her left anymore; instead a small, orange-colored mass was laying there, its limbs still twitching. Was that... a pony?

Still sprawled flat-out on the ground, you gaze moves upwards. Your brain was numb; still in awe of the ecstatic pleasure that'd washed right through you. It was the best thing you'd ever felt in your life. Lost in thought, the basking sunlight that'd been surveying the scene starts to recede; darkness beginning to expand lovingly in the light's wake. For you the darkness was comforting, acting like a stimulus you'd been waiting for. With one last sigh of satisfaction your eyes close and immediately the world around you dissolves as, once again, your mind softly goes through a veil of darkness.

-

Not long after, you jerk awake with a sharp gasp. What were you just dreaming about? Ugh, what time was it?

Opening a bleary eye shows you're in a dark room, though from the pale moonlight glowing behind the curtain you knew immediately where you were - home. Well, as close to home as it gets in Equestria.

That's funny... you don't remember going to bed last night. Or what you'd had for dinner. Or infact, anything. More importantly: why was your forehead feeling damp? You rack your brain trying to fill in the missing details. Wasn't there... a party or something last night? Maybe you'd been a little too aggressive with the punch. No, that can't be right - pony punch doesn't contain alcohol. Huh...

As much as you'd love to remain snuggled in bed trying to work out why your memory was patchy, at the moment there was a burning in your bladder that needed to be dealt with, pronto. Letting loose a giant yawn, you try to prop yourself up and out of the futon with an elbow. Immediately it becomes clear that something isn't right with your body. No, in fact something is horribly wrong. The yawn had drawn attention to the fact that both the shape and size of your mouth are completely incorrect from what they should be - your tongue and jaw felt much longer than before. The elbow you'd been trying to prop yourself up with wasn't articulating as it should, leaving you to wiggle helplessly on the spot. Oh fuck, what was happening?

-

Disorientation and panic getting the better of you, you hastily try dislodging the source of dampness from your forehead. Was this a wet... towel? You can't tell what it is because you can't feel it properly, your fingers failing miserably; so miserably that you can't even wiggle them. Holding your arm up against the thin moonlight reveals that it now ends in a stump. Where's your hand?! Now was the time to freak the fuck out if ever there was one. Starting by flailing madly on the spot, your free-flying leg makes contact with a soft body that lets out a little "Oof!"

You freeze in place - chest rising and falling rapidly at the gruesome discovery of your mutated body. Even your breathing felt different, the stuffy air your nose was intaking was much further from your face than usual, and taking longer to travel to your lungs.

"Dee?" comes a voice. You can only respond in a weak whimper as you grieve your hands. Apparently whimpering was deemed as an appropriate response as suddenly a candle is lit. To your surprise you're met face-to-face with Applejack.

"So ya'll are finally awake! Were ya the one who just done bucked my rump?"

Why was she smiling down at you? Couldn't she see you were in mortal peril? You'd say something but you can't form words. Something expressed in your face makes Applejack frown.

"Ah, seems ya don't recall what's happened... Well..." she hesitates.

"Applejack, is that you talking?" comes a tone you recognize as Rarity's.

"He's awake."

-

This statement is met with a brief silence; a silence where you hear the sickening sound of a new powerful heart pounding into your chest. You start to feel faint, your mind unable to even begin comprehending what's happened. A blue light fills the room, and at once the darkness is banished. Rarity - whose horn was the source of the light - quickly shuffles over.

Attempting to maintain deep, calm breaths you turn your head to Rarity. Immediately the first thing you notice is how much bigger she's now looking. Usually the little ponies came up to your only waist at most... well, maybe mid-stomach in the passing month. Still, now Rarity and Applejack were much taller and broader. Hell, Applejack might even even be bigger than you are now. How'd that happen?

"Dear?"

Rarity's voice calls out catching you off-guard. You try your best to look her in the eye, but soon enough you regret it. Something in Rarity's expression was cold, as if she didn't recognize the person lying before her. On a closer inspection, her hair was more unkempt than usual with single strands of purple hair rebelling from the conforming mane. Was she distressed?

"R-R-Rhaarity?" comes your thick voice, your mouth feeling dry and dis-proportioned. Has your voice changed yet again?

"Yes yes, that's right. Do... you recall what's happened?"

You pause, trying to suppress the panic and anguish threatening to burst. What was the last thing you remember?

"Twaloght!" you squeaky angrily.

-

AJ and Rarity exchange a quick concerned glance with each other.

"I mean, do you... can you stand?" questions Rarity, seemingly choosing to ignore the squeaky outburst.

You hesitate, unsure if you can stand. For some reason your muscles are burning ferociously... had you been running about like a madman again? Perhaps you were in some kind of party accident?

Trying your utmost to hoist yourself up, clumsily you flop onto your side unable to muster the full strength into your hips.

"W-what's happened to me?" comes your fearful, slightly girly tone.

"I uh... well, that is to say..." Rarity nervously mumbles, sharing a look with AJ again. Standing up, Rarity trots over to the golden-trimmed mirror propped on the wall. AJ slowly nods at her.

"It might make it easier to explain if ya just show 'im." says Applejack concurring with Rarity's idea. "This is only gonna end one way anyhoo."

That didn't sound reassuring. Seeing AJ and Rarity had certainly relaxed you a little bit - knowing you were in the company of ponies who cared was reassuring, yet the foreboding atmosphere in the room scared you. The light in the room dulls as Rarity attempts to gracefully separate the mirror from the wall with her magic. Eventually she manages it, slowly pulling the mirror off the lilac wall and swiftly swooping it over her head gently placing it in front of you. At the corner of your eye you see AJ shadow her face with her hat.

-

You blink. There's a pony in the mirror. That's odd, considering you're lying where she was. Intrigued, you try sitting up to get a better look. To your astonishment the little mare, too, clumsily clambers up looking utterly helpless - albeit pretty cute. Rarity, who was once again using her horn to light the room, remains silent while she props the mirror up.

The orange pony sitting in the mirror stares back at you, apparently unable to tear her brown eyes away. Her short mane is a slight mixture of red-hair with a streak of brown; it was currently looking messy and frizzled up as if she'd just been awoken. In a trance-like state you out-stretch an arm towards to the pony, who responds immediately by mimicking the gesture.

What was this? You shuffle towards the mirror a bit more to examine the orange mare's face. Her large circular eyes shine brightly in the blue light, drawing your attention to them. There's no sign of a horn so she's obviously not a unicorn, but there's no wings either. So this is an earth pony? You open your mouth to get her to copy you, taking a good look at her tongue rubbing her slightly large pony teeth. How did she know how to copy everything you did, and so perfectly? Your confusion is reflected upon the small mare's face.

Something moves behind the pony, and immediately she turns around to find the source. However, just as you do the same, you catch a glimpse of her cutie mark. It's a very familiar "20M". That's when it all hits you.

-

No.

In an instant the world dramatically pulls away from you, the temperature in the room starting to increase. You feel dangerously lightheaded, unable to focus clearly on anything or anyone.

"Here't comes." Applejack warns sternly from the distance.

"W-what ever do you mean? We need to help her Applejack! She's confused and scared, just look at the drooping ears!"

"Hear me out on this one and wait - Trust me."

The voices natter in the background but your brain can't quite tune into the same frequency, instead peaking off into its own tangent of insanity. The mirrored movement, your mutated arms, her brown eyes, that cutie mark... it was all narrowing down to one unwelcome conclusion: You were a pony now. The transformation actually happened. It was all over for you.

Without warning - or any planned intention - you furiously lash out, wildly bucking your weak new legs. The timid whip of your tail against your rump as you trash around sparks a shout of panic - "Get it off me!" With an extra-forceful kick your solid hoof makes contact with a hard surface that shatters brittly. You haven't got time to care as channeling pure inner-turmoil directs you to frantically bite your own, now-hooved, arms. The pain is immeasurable as your teeth sink in, only serving to prove you're certainly within this body; your mouth filling up with fur as you uncontrollably tear large clumps out at a time.

-

Amidst the chaos there's shouts and sobs in the background, but either for lack of will or caring you can't focus on the sounds. The world as you'd known it for 20 years was currently crashing around your ears. This was the death of yourself.

In your haste to lash out again your front and forelegs clumsily tangle together causing you to tumble over. Undeterred, you prepare for the 2nd round of destroying this bastardized form. Raising shakily off the floor causes long hair to flop forward filling your vision - you pause. Your mane. Your unwanted, girly mane.  With inept, heavy hooves you attempt to yank all the mane out, but it proves to be a fruitless attempt - you can't get a solid grip. The frustration coming from the lack of ability to control your current body intensifies greatly.

"STOP!" screeches a voice behind you, but still you choose to remain deaf to the world, your eyes beginning to sting with angry tears. Not being able to control your body properly was not only the most infuriating experience imaginable, but the most frightening one too.

Twisting over for a fresh attack on yourself you're hindered by a large orange mass which leaps on top of you, knocking out the wind in your lungs.

"Stop this."

Through your blurred vision you see her - Applejack had pinned you down. Her strong forelegs were restraining your further advances on yourself. Panting furiously you fight to break free. What does she think she's doing?! This is none of her business!

-

"Woah there, simmer down!"

Adrenaline had full reign over your body at the moment so you weren't in the most cooperative mood. Wriggling your legs free from under Applejack and promptly placing them on her chest you laboriously attempt to pry her off you, but... there's not enough strength in your legs. In fact, now that AJ was up so close and personal you realize that she's actually a hell of a lot stronger and muscular than you gave her credit for - You can't budge her off. She was literally dominating you in a fight. You were losing a struggle to a little pony.

"Are ya'll gonna stop?" comes her scornful tone. Your reply doesn't make coherent sense being comprised of high-pitched squeak noises - a concoction of fear and temporary insanity escaping from your mouth. You desperately wanted to break free, but no amount of strength you muster makes a any difference. It was time to change tactics: Attack AJ. You start gnashing your teeth like a rabid dog, unable to make contact with anything. AJ's brow furrows.

"This ain't gonna work. Get Twi in here."

At this statement you freeze - Twilight was still here? This was all her fault, and yet she still had the nerve to lurk around? You struggle harder than ever, you need to break out of AJ's constraints! A sudden solid hoof pelts you across the face. The sheer shock of this unexpected pain causes you to lock-up, fresh tears filling your eyes. AJ had just smacked you.

You both share a look - now you were scared.

-

So not only was AJ already physically overpowering you, but now she was getting violent as well? There was literally nothing you could do either protect or free yourself - resounding helplessness was becoming overwhelming. This lack of power was something you had never, ever experienced before.

"A-Applejack! What did you just DO?!" shrieks a voice coming from the door.

Eyes brimming, face stinging, your large round eyes meet with Applejack's jade green. There's a mutual emotion of regret. Before you manage to form another coherent word Twilight interrupts, standing tall next to AJ. There's a reproachful look etched deep into her face.

"I can't believe you just did that, even if the situation was escalating!" Twilight's voice raises indignantly. Applejack remains silent, panting slightly from the effort of pinning your struggling form.

"Mr Poster won't be in his right mind - waking up in a new body would be a terrifying, deep shock for anypony! Especially in this case since his last form was bipedal; his brain can't comprehend quadrupedal motion!"

You glare at Twilight from underneath Applejack, though she doesn't notice. This was her fault, she'd forced you to forfeit your humanity. The flush of angry blood to your head makes your ears ring; you need to avenge yourself! Sensing weakness in Applejack's waning attention you slip your right foreleg free. All attention was back on you.

"We'll talk about that later, we have a bigger situation at the moment."

-

Glaring at Twilight reveals that there are dark shadows under her eyes, but you don't let that deter you. You aimlessly attempt to make physical contact, Applejack was still doing swell job of subduing you.

"I don't want to do this Mr Poster, but you currently aren't leaving us a choice!"

What? The regret in Twilight's tone sends a chill down your spine - what was she planning now? Purple light dances with the darkness on the walls, Twilight's horn had started glowing. No, this can't be good. Struggling proves futile as Applejack's power remains being too much to counter.

"Are you sure this is the best idea?" comes a shaky voice you recognize as Rarity's, "Applejack said it'd be best if we just let it all sink in!"

"Just because it worked in one case doesn't mean it will in all - everybody's different, not everyone copes as easily."

Twilight's face was now directly above yours, the shimmering light emanating from her horn growing stronger still. There's a distinct look of sadness in her expression.

"Sorry about this, though it's best for all of us..." she states, drawing her forehead closer to yours.

What was that supposed to mean? Why was everything going so wrong? Exhausted, eyes streaming and thoroughly terrified you can't prevent the unintentional emptying of your tiny pony bladder. The radiant unicorn horn inches closer and closer until finally the cold tip makes contact, pressing softly against your forehead and sending you yet again into darkness.

-

Was it too much to ask for kind, graceful, thoughtless sleep? In no time at all you're back in the white sunlit plain where this nightmarish atrocity all began. Why were you back here? A quick glance is all you need to identify your location and self. You're male you again - that it to say, your inner-self. Was this all Twilight's doing?

Before you get time to worry about that, a sight so ghastly greets your vision that your instant reaction is a yelp in terror - There's a grotesque lump protruding out of your arm. Horrified, you watch as protruding mass engulfs your elbow starting to form a shape. What the fuck? The skin on your right arm is bubbling over, forming into what could only be described as a fleshy fetus. The mass continues to expand, engulfing your elbow and starting to advance its shape.

What in the blue-buggery-fuck was happening this time? You'd already met your freaked-out quota for this lifetime, and yet shit was still going down. Desperate to prevent this amalgamating form continuing to possess your arm you ferociously try shake it off, but as it increased you felt weaker. The fetus has already advanced to foal-size, clearly illustrated by the 4 legs dangling out. Jesus fuck, a pony was growing out of you now? With one last forceful movement of the arm you manage to dislodge unnatural mass leaving it to convulse on the ground. Blue eyes glare. You feel progressively worse. The world was spiraling...

"Doctor, the patient is awakening."

-

A sterile white ceiling hangs ominously over you - where the hell are you now? You're lying on your back... somewhere. With the recent nightmare slowly evaporating from your mind you crane your neck to view the surroundings. The immaculate surfaces, the lingering medicinal smell, the white bedsheets... by your logical deduction that could only mean you were in some kind of hospital?

"Jolly good, thank you Nurse Penny Feather you absolute dear!" comes a booming voice, "Rarity - I understand this is great news to you too but for the love of goodness stop getting under my hooves! Please be seated, we don't want you to cause even more trouble, do we?"

Brain throbbing and very groggy you try to recall what'd happened... Your body aches all over but why? Attempt to administer a comforting rub to your forehead you're unpleasantly surprised to discover you've been harnessed to the bed.

"Hello there, sleeping beauty! How are you doing my dear?" comes the same loud voice as before. There's a silence.

"...Are you talking to me?" comes your sleepy mumble. You can't help feel uncharacteristically frustrated at being awoken by this pompous individual.

"Oh ho! Well good to see we have no brain damage, now then..." the voice trails off followed by rustling and clinking of metal instruments. Opening a bleary eye you quickly catch the glimpse of a large pony's rump draped in green overalls. They must be the source of the voice, though it's certainly not one you recognize.

-

"Aha, found the blighter. Right then young Ms, my name is Pull Hooflong, but that'd be Doctor Hooflong to you now, understood?" he chortles returning to your bedside. "Now you might be alarmed to find that we have indeed strapped you to the bed, but not to worry! It's nothing you've done, oh no no no..." he trails off, looking thoughtful.

A rapid clicking comes from beyond the bed, but before you get the chance to investigate the source a bright light penetrates your left eye.

"Ah!" comes your surprised squeak. Dr. Hooflong chuckles softly.

"Sorry 'bout that dear, it might be uncomfortable but it's all looking to be good news! Normally I'd ask you to stay still, but being harnessed, you already are!" He chortles again, moving the piercing light away from your left eye only to assult your right, and then back again leaving you totally dazed. There's a tutting, "You've certainly had a rough time of it ain'tcha? I don't know if you're aware but you're a victim of an epileptic seizure!"

A seizure...?

"Yes..." he repeats softly to himself answering your unasked question, "Well what do you expect when you walk into a fashion store where literally everything is covered in sequins and glitter? D'ya hear that, Rarity?" Dr. Hooflong turns his head towards the back of the room, "She won't be the first to fall victim to yer flashy fashion! You really need to put up a warning else we'll have more cases like this!"

There's only a dry sniff in response.

-

"We figured it'd be safer restraining you in the off-chance you had another seizure - we don't want you hurting yourself! Or others. Either way, be it lady luck or otherwise, you seem to be fine. I'll release the harnesses after your checku-"

"Rarity's here?" you interrupt just as the Doctor tries to stick a tongue depressor into your mouth.

"Her? Pfft! Barely left your side. Been driving the other nurses mad to tell the truth. You've got a loyal friend there - or a shopkeeper terrified of being sued. You decide. Now say "aahh" please."

"Deaaaaahhhh!?" your sentence is cut off as the wooden stick is pushed into your mouth. Dr. Hooflong winces.

"Oh my, even got bruises in your mouth! Must have happened around the time you got that dreadful lump on your face. Dear dear..."

You were currently so harassed that you'd barely made sense of reality yet. Blinking a few times to clear your vision you get a proper look around you, eyes immediately drawn to the orange chest protruding in front of you. ...Orange? It suddenly all comes rushing back.

"One more test and I'll be satisfied for now. Don't expect to be going anywhere soon, I want to double check to make sure we don't have any deeper-rooted issues related to your seizure. Now tell me this: how do you prefer your thermometers, Oral or Internal?"

What? You look straight at Dr. Hooflong whose expression was utterly deadpan. Was... this a serious question? You don't know how ponies check their temperatures!

-

"I uh, I..." you stammer feeling immensely awkward. Almost immediately you're blown back by raucous laughter. "Just kiddin'! Honestly, you silly fillies these days. I'll get the oral thermometer, just a mo'."

Just who was this Doctor? He had literally the worst bedside manner imaginable, so much so that it was actually distracting you from your pony-doomed thoughts. In the welcomed silence in the doctor's absence you take a hasty glance at the tied forelegs poking out from under your bed covers. Be it from lack of energy, will or whatever else, but your ponyfied form wasn't bothering you much as it had before, instead you just wanted to be left alone. You're about to twist your neck to see if Rarity really was there before...

"I'mmm back!" sails a cheerful tone through the air. Dr. Hooflong was practically cantering across the room with a nurse pushing a tray in his wake. "Now I promise I cleaned it after the last internal - sorry, oral examination!" he grins wildly. "Open wide!"

You didn't need this joyful prick at the moment, you just wanted to be left to brood. Still sore from the previous embarrassing question you flatly refuse the thermometer, keeping your lips sealed. For some reason this only makes Dr. Hooflong's smile grow wider.

"Playing hardball, huh? Hah, you remind me of my teenage daughter. Not that I force her to open her mouth or anything." The nurse behind the doctor steadily raises her eyebrow. Your mouth remains completely sealed.

-

"Is this your way of telling me you want the internal thermometer? That can still be arranged..." the Doctor grins. By some kind of instinct your tail immediately curls up and shields your sensitive areas - no one was having bum-fun today.

"Please don't look at me with those sullen, sulky eyes - it just means that I'll have to cure them! I warn you, not everyone likes my cure-all for moody-bastard-itus; wouldn't you agree Nurse Penny Feather?" The nurse just rolls her eyes. You remain vigilant about holding your ground.

"Well, don't say I didn't warn you" Dr. Hooflong chrips in a sing-song voice. In a flurry of fabric the bed covers are tossed into the air by a force previously unseen - wait, is he a unicorn? No, not more magi-

At once you understood why not everyone liked this particular remedy - the cure was tickling. Invisible hands start creeping their way over your protruding tummy before burrowing their way in. The muscles in your chest contort violently as the tickling causes them to spasm. At first you gasp, but you must keep your composure! Scrunching up your face you desperately try to resist the increasingly heavy tickles spreading over your stomach and under your forelegs. This was the worst, especially when you can't defend yourself due to being harnessed. Your stomach feels like it's expanding from the amount of butterflies wrestling to get out.

"Are you going to comply now?" Or are you still not cured?" comes the shit-eating tone of the Doctor.

-

The fuck was wrong with Equestrian healthcare? Tears were starting to build in your eyes as you desperately suppressed whooping shouts of laughter. The tickling intensified until it felt like burning; muscles beginning to cramp up. You can't contain it anymore as your lungs fail, you can't breathe! With shriek of mirth you're defeated, much to your dismay.

"Stttoopp!" you wheeze, and at once he complies, sticking the thermometer into your defenseless mouth. "Well, that wasn't such a chore now, was it? Though I hope the increased body heat doesn't affect the results..."

"Was that really necessary you silly oaf?" comes a voice you recognize. Rarity had decided to test her freedom.

"Didn't I tell you to sit tight while I checked up? Well actually, do me a huge favor - Here take this pen and clipboard and record the resulting temperature. I'm off for my tea-break."

"You can't be seriou-" Rarity speaks up sounding indignant, but she's interrupted.

"Oh, but I'm deadly serious. Ta-ta for now!" the Doctor waves, jauntily striding out the door. Nurse Penny Feather follows suit, looking guilty.

"Honestly, I ask you" Rarity says sounding exasperated, "I've never met another like him." Silently you agree, you'd never met another like him either. 'Specially one so keen to tickle-rape a sick mare. Mare?

"Well I must say, it's so wonderful to see you again Dee." Rarity beams at you. "Do... do you know why you're here?"

You wanted to see how this would play out.

"No."

-

Rarity's appearance is nowhere near as slick as usual; eyelashes astray, tousled hair, shadows under her eyes. For the most part though she seemed cheerful enough as she pulled a small seat next to the bed.

"Well, where to begin? These past 2 days have been an absolute whirlwind for me and the girls. Do you remember anything? Anything at all?"

Slowly recovering from the recent non-consensual tickling and idly licking the tip of the thermometer resting in your mouth, you explore possible paths to take this conversation.

"I don't remember much" you eventually lie, "Why am I here, Rarity? And why do I feel so funky?"

A hint of confusion flickers in Rartiy's eyes at your lingo but regardless she clears her throat importantly. "2 days ago you were taken.. ill - in the morning no less. You woke up with no feeling or movement in your legs. Do you remember that dear?"

You remember this recent incident vividly; instructions from your brain not reaching your legs or toes, a complete loss of control from the waist down... It was a truly horrible sensation, like your body had been halved. Not really wanting to recall that experience, you roll the thermometer to the right-side of your mouth, turning to stare blankly at Rarity on your left. She was propping her head up on a hoof looking exhausted.

"No recollection of that? Well needless to say we panicked; I went and brought Twilight over for some advice, and after some explaining of the situation you... dozed off."

-

"Dozed off?" you repeat, the feeling of betrayal seeping into your blood. There was a telling silence.

"We'll... discuss that part later, dear. I really want to go and sleep now I know you're safe." It's more of a plea than anything else, but did you want to "discuss this later"? You burn for answers right now, yet as protest rises inside you, the sight of a deflated Rarity prevents it. She is still your friend, mentor or whatever and you don't want to upset her at the moment, you've seemingly put her through enough already. Taking the brief silence as a cue Rarity continues.

"I, that is to say me and Twilight, watched as you... writhed on the ground. It was truly one of the utmost bizarre things I've witnessed in all my life! Seeing someone's form change so dramatically? I've seen magic, sure, but that's no where near as slow or destructive as what occurred to you."

Rarity pauses to check the thermometer you were cradling in your mouth. "Knowing that it was finally happening, we quickly contacted Applejack. She was supposed to have experience in this, yes? By the time she arrived at the Boutique you were essentially gone... the whole process taking around 50 minutes? In all honesty I wasn't counting, I was too horrified to even watch. Seeing my Dee being mutilated like that..." she falls silent, her sympathetic eyes watering.

"When'd I get here?" you question, the only part of this tale you didn't know so far. Rarity draws a deep breath.

-

"After you... changed, me, Twilight and AJ decided to keep watch over you at the Boutique. All of us were together in that room making sure no more complications arose. You were sleeping soundly enough and as the day passed naturally we grew tired. In the end me and AJ must have fallen asleep in the small hours. Twilight was in the kitchen preparing a hot drink or similar. Then, next thing I hear is  AJ talking but not to me... no, you were awake!"

"What happpthh-" you fail to ask as at that moment Rarity yanks the thermometer out from between your lips. Gently giving it a shake she records the results on the clipboard.

"Sorry dear, what was that? Your temperature is fine, no longer burning up like before. I'm so relieved!" she sighs blissfully while you cross your eyes attempting to see your drooping tongue. Now you catch sight of a fuzzy abnormality where you nose used to reside. You longed to touch it, but with the current harness you could only distract yourself with more questions.

"So... What happened when I awoke?" you say innocently, trying to suppress any facial expression that might give you away.

"Ah," Rarity fidgets uncomfortably in her chair, "It... wasn't pleasant. Me and Applejack had devised that it'd be a good idea to slowly ease you into the... concept of your new form. As you limbered around on the floor we brought out the mirror to give you a better understand on what'd happened. Needless to say it backed-fired in the worst possible way."

-

The temporary craziness you had displayed was still fresh in your mind. Why did you do it? It's impossible to rationalize now, but at that moment in time it was necessary. Or so it seemed. You don't really understand anymore.

"Is that what caused the lump on my face?" you continue, whittling out as much information as you could.

Discomfort is prominent on Rarity's face. "Partially. You started attacking yourself, smashed the mirror in your room, and... uhm, left a mess. Applejack attempted to wrestle you to defuse the situation. Twilight eventually had to whip out an emergency spell which put you under again. We figured from there on it wasn't safe to keep you at the Boutique so that's why you're now in the hospital. The doctors asked many questions when you arrived and you've been under constant surveillance, but everything seems to have worked out okay in the end. We told a little white lie about your "seizure", since we don't want to explain the whole transformation business."

Lack of detail about how you obtained your facial injury is noted.

"Why the harness? To prevent me lashing out again?"

"Kind of, it's more a restraint so you don't hurt yourself. I realise it's not nice but it's only for a short while."

You struggle to lift a foreleg, the pull of the harness is just too strong. You pause, emotions of fear and - as much as you hated to admit it - excitement mingled in your chest as you longed to explore your body.

"Am... I still recognizable?"

-

Before you get a straight answer Dr. Hooflong bursts into the room practically scaring the life out of you and Rarity.

"Sorry about that, but I do get quite worked up if I don't get my tea. Now where were we?" he smiles, "Ah yes, did you get those results the nice doctor ordered, Rarity?"

Rarity - who'd accidentally knocked herself in the face with her hoof - gives the doctor an insolent stare. "Why did you even bother making me record these silly temperature readings if you were going to be back so soon?" she flares up, apparently grabbing at this distraction to avoid your question. Dr. Hooflong blinks.

"Well, really I was just giving you two a chance to catch up, settle legal fees, y'know?" he jokes, but Rarity's mood had taken a 180.

"Look, Pull, I understand you have been a valued customer at my Boutique for many years, but that does NOT give you the right to lose your professionalism at your workplace. Do you understand? Do you understand?!"

You suppress a silent giggle as you watch this scene unfold, it was a nice change seeing someone else at the receiving end of one of Rarity's rows. Rarity's tirade ends abruptly with a low sigh.

"I'm sorry... I'm just tired. Too tired. I need to go sleep. Dee," she turns to give you a soft look, "You have no idea how thrilled I am that you're safe, or how proud I feel. We'll catch up properly later, but I need to get out of here."

"Come visit soon" are your lame last words as she hastily trots towards the exit.

-

On the way out Rarity gives a sour look to Dr. Hooflong, followed by her nose rising sharply into the air and a loud, sulky "Hmph". There was an awkward pause in the room until the last of her hoof steps had faded.

"Now THAT'S how I get if I don't have my tea!" the doctor chuckles, apparently not bothered by this telling-off. "I can see from Rarity's recording that your temperature is normal. Strange..."

"Sorry, but what's strange?" you ask tenderly. Surely a "normal" temperature was a good thing? Dr. Hooflong turns his focus to you, his large hazel eyes looking preoccupied. "You've been a strange case, if you don't mind me saying so" he flatly states looking at his notes, "Apparent unexpected seizure; covered in odd bruises and bitemarks; rising fever suddenly vanished; strange hormones in your urine; legs appear underdeveloped for a mare of your age; lack of any proper medical records or formal identification..." he drones on.

You don't like the sound of his list. Do you really have weak legs? Would lack of formal ID cause potential issues for you? Hell, does Equestria even have pony migration laws or proper citizenship? None of this seemed to apply to you as a human, but now that you appear as any other pony... you shiver at the thought, your tail flopping limply against the mattress. Your tail... something so alien attached to your backside; you're desperate to take a proper look at the silky mass trapped under your weight.

-

"D-doctor, can I be freed from these restrains?" you nervously ask, stupidly aware of your feminine and somewhat cartoony-sounding voice. His answer doesn't come instantly.

"Hmm... well you're awake, and you do seem to be compos mentis. With your current vitals another seizure certainly doesn't seem likely, so I'm fairly sure you're not about to hurt yourself or others if untied. Yet, without proper identity... you could be a wanted criminal. I don't want to go setting you free now, do I?" His expression is unreadable.

Shit, was he serious? Why are you even worrying? It's not like you've done anything illegal... right? You glance down again at the slightly plump belly and orange fur that was attached to you. Is this... right? It'd been chipping away at your conscious for a while but this accusation added fuel to the fire. As you currently appeared - in your pony form - it certainly felt like you were being deceiving and dishonest about who you were. Was it ethical to hide your identity? Were you really just a spy? Concern must have bloomed on your face because the doctor roars with (rather forced) laughter.

"Oh, the look on your face! Of course you can be let loose." He smiles, quickly unbuckling the harness with magic. "In fact, I want you do something for me," he continues while removing the various cables from your body, "I want you to get out of bed and... walk. You've never been diagnosed with rickets, have you? Well in any case..."

-

At once your legs and forelegs slip free of their confinement, springing to a resting position central to your body. It's an strange sensation; your legs don't bend outward nearly half as much as they did before. The frustrated discomfort caused by lack of control returns as you shift your body and disjointed limbs. Movement felt like you were wearing a thick, heavy skin over your human body.

"That's right, take it slow. I'll lower the frame on your bed. Do you think you'll be able to slide off okay?" the doctor asks, seemingly taking his job seriously now. You nod, though you weren't sure how honest it was - you were struggling to grip the bed sheet and remove it. After more fidgeting and feeling embarrassed at exposure, you manage to slip your legs off the bed. Part of you fights the urge to cover up your naked torso, but to all ponies this is completely natural and acceptable... right? Still, you don't like your bare ass being this close to white sheets.

"Good, good..." Dr. Hooflong encourages slowly, intrigued by your slow process. "Now then Ms. Dee, if you will."

Ms. Dee? Jesus. Still, you oblige by putting two shaky-hooved legs to the ground. The soft accompanying "clop clop" confirmed you'd reached your target. What came next though? Do you dive forward and risk landing on your face? Do you try and stand like a human? You can't decide a good approach.

"Are you alright there? Not forgotten how to walk, have you?" the doctor chortles.

If only he knew...

-

Deciding it'd be best to do what you've done all your life and stand up straight, you steadily increase the weight on your spindly hind legs. As your rump slips from the bed it becomes immediately obvious your hips don't want to support your upper body weight - your spine defying your will to stand up and forcing you forward. There's a split-second panic as you enter a free fall, your forelegs flailing as your face fast approaches hospital tiles. Instinctively outstretching what would have been your arms to break the fall, there's not enough strength in them to support your whole body weight. Abrupt contact with the ground causes your forelegs to buckle, leaving you utterly incapable of preventing the literal nose-dive.

The searing pain on impact creates vibrant red lights that dance brilliantly behind your tightly-sealed eyelids; your ears ring violently in protest to your clumsiness.

"Whoops-a-daisy. Perhaps I should have been prepared for that" comes Hooflong's pointless remark, the onlooking nurse's sharp intake of breath clearly audible.

The hurtful sting in your nose has caused your eyes to quickly flood with tears of pain. Fuckin'. Ouch. You remain crumpled on the floor as you gingerly rub the tip of your muzzle. Your flat, dull hoof doesn't help appease the now-throbbing injury assaulting your nerves.

"Are you alright, Ms. Dee? I must admit I didn't quite expect your to fall so... spectacularly like that that. I thought you were going to take it slowly!"

-

"Are you hurt? Can you stand at all?" A barrage questions flood from the doctor.

You try to answer to shut him up, but the recent nose-trauma has caused your throat to constrict tightly. Formation of speech is suddenly impossible, with only a dull feeble whimper able to slip its way out. You slowly rub your eyes with a fetlock. Come on, man up! What the hell's wrong with you?

"Mmm, Pennyfeather we might want to get a wheelchair in here" the Hooflong instructs the standby nurse, who immediately heeds the order.

A... wheelchair? Screw that. Determined not to be beaten, you get a mental grip on yourself and wiggle into a suitable position. With a deep breath, you draw your puny legs closer to your body lying on the floor like a graceful cat.

You can do this, it's all just a matter of pushing up and finding your center of gravity, right? Once you're standing walking will surely be a piece of cake. Surely.

Shakily drawing all hooves under your belly and placing them flat to the floor you hoist yourself up with a great heave. It's like doing one incredible push-up; taking complete concentration and endurance to reach your peak height. Success! Now you need to carefully spread your legs to evenly distribute weight and balance...

While doing this, it slowly starts to dawn on you that everything about this posture felt wrong. Ugh, it's like you're a hunchback drawing yourself along on your hands and knees; your head and neck not at all accustomed to being at this low height.

-

At the same time, everything appeared... bigger, completely throwing off your spacial awareness and in turn, your balance.

"Aha, so you can stand, bravo!" Hooflong cheers in a somewhat patronizing manner. "I dare say you're looking a bit shaky on your pins there, though. What in the blazes do you do for a living to have reached this stage of muscle fatigue?"

Barely listening, your whole attention is focused on your balance. If you let any limb relax too much, you'd be toppling over again. Your tail is supposed to help with balance isn't it? But swishing it around doesn't massively help your cause, not when your knees are shaking so badly your hooves clatter off the floor below. In spite of yourself, a great rush comes over you.

"S-see! I c-can stand as a p-pony!" you pant triumphantly at the doctor, the true context of this statement completely lost on him.

It doesn't take long for the euphoric flow of adrenaline to dwindle and, starting to feel drained, you put all weight on your hips, falling back to assume the stance of a sitting dog. In an instant you're leaping back up after an unexpected cold touch surprises your, er, nether regions. Ponies don't wear clothes after all, so there's nothing protecting 'down there' against the harsh cold tiles that make the floor.

Bemused, Hooflong continues watching your antics as the nurse rolls a wheelchair in.

"Yes... I think you're going to be staying here for a little while."

-

This wasn't welcome news. Not at all.

"...How long is a 'little while'?"

"Oh I don't know, perhaps until I'm satisfied" Hooflong drawls in a laid-back tone. Was he serious? Or just teasing you again?

"B-but I don't want-" you stammer, interrupted as magic hoists you on to the wheelchair.

"Didn't anyone tell you that the doctor knows best? There's still much I need to investigate, starting with your illusive medical records. And..." he pauses to make sure you're securely seated, "based on your current physical condition, I say we need to start physiotherapy immediately if we have any hope of improving those legs."

So, once again, you were going to be cooped up indoors? You'd already done your fair share of "hermit in Equestria"! You're an adult, who has the right to say you can't go out and do whatever you please? Doctor knows best? Oh Please.

Your mood sharply deteriorates. No more Apple Acres? No more Ponyville strolls? You're not a child anymore, no one can govern your life like this. Silent fury takes hold of you as, deep down, you know protesting won't solve anything.

It's not long before you're eased back on to the hospital bed. Hooflong continues spouting - what he believes to be - witty banter, completely obvious to the cloud of depression brewing in your chest. The short-lived anger had curdled, and now you just wanted to be left alone.

"Well I'll be off, I've got plenty of other patients to see. You're still my favorite, though" the doctor winks cheekily.

-

Choosing to remain silent, there's an awkward pause as Hooflong expectantly awaits for your reply. Realizing that it's never coming, he bids your farewell and closes the door.

Finally. For the first time since awakening you're completely alone. 10 minutes ago? You'd have been utterly thrilled. Now? Enthusiasm has drained from your soul. There's nothing else you want to do beyond curling up and feeling sorry for yourself. You do just that, lying on your side, legs tucked in as if you were a ball.

Questions. So many questions that need answered. How the fuck had your life come to this? A poor, pathetic mare lying on top of her bed sheets like some sort of house pet. Why hadn't Celestia returned your letter? Or appeared at all? Inconsiderate bitch. How the hell did this disaster of a life result from an imageboard post? It makes no sense. Why... are you cuddling your tail?

The brooding stops; you're completely taken-aback by your own actions. Your tail, as if sensing something was wrong, had curled between your legs and was twitching playfully against your chest. Absentmindedly you'd started to hug it for... comfort? What was this?

Embarrassment prickles your face and neck - what if someone sees? That said... you don't stop the embrace, there was just something so calming about the hugging. You can't explain it, but at that moment it becomes obvious to you that you adore your bushy tail and it adores you. If there was ever a time to question your masculinity, it was now.

-

The hug continues for some time; all worry and anxiety ebbing away as you lay there entwined with your tail. Gradually, your eyelids grow heavier. Everything is starting to feel cozy as the sun sets. Despite how much you liked your frayed, slightly stained futon, you've missed having a proper bed like this one. In fact, the prospect of sleep doesn't seem so bad, you wouldn't need to think anymore...

"Dinner time!"

There's a sudden squeaking at the door, immediately followed with an unmistakable creak. Terrified you'd be discovered in such a shameful position you wriggle under your bed cover.

A nurse trots in guiding a trolley that has several trays on top. Trying to act as casually as possible, you poke your head out from under the covers.

"D-dinner time?" you repeat weakly. Now that you think about it, you've not eaten in like... 3 days? Surely that can't be right, but whatever the case you're now painfully aware of how hungry you are.

"Dinner time my cherub, let me get the tray table set up. On doctors orders your diet will contain more protein than usual for a mare your age, so you get an extra helping of soybeans. Yum yum!"

You raise an eyebrow, looking down at the food tray littered with absolutely rancid looking things. Green mush, with some brown mush, with a cup of water.

"Uh, thanks. What age IS a mare that's my age?" you ask out of curiosity. The nurse doesn't look too amused, presumably tired of acting overly enthusiastic to sick ponies about their food all day.

"16, right?"

-


It was fortunate that the nurse was too preoccupied securing the food tray to the bed at that precise moment, missing the dramatic jaw drop at this news.

"I'm... 16? Are you sure?"

Sighing audibly the nurse cranes her neck around showcasing her disgruntled look.

"Well how would I know your age? Isn't that supposed to be a lady's secret?" she retorts indignantly. Her tone conveys a not-so-subtle hint, and you comply by holding your tongue. Your mind continues to buzz as the nurse finishes her business and prepares to leave.

"Enjoy your meal. Any issues or worries just ring the bell on your bedside table and we'll come rushing." The almost automatic nature of this monotone statement made it obvious she'd said it many-a-time. With a forced smile, you remain perfectly quiet until the graceful 'click' of the shutting door. As it arrives, your mind explodes into hyper-drive.

16? What the hell? That makes you at least 5-6 years younger than you were previously! You've literally lost years of your life. Is this why the doctor was being so patronizing earlier? You're now just an unruly teenager?

Anxiety starts flooding your chest again - what did this mean for life from now on? If you were to become human again would you remain the same age? Is your adult lifestyle now going to be hindered as you're a "minor"? Would doing things teenage girls did now be considered acceptable for you?

Your mind keeps tumbling over itself with question after question.

-

It takes little time for the pungent aroma of over-cooked cabbage emanating from the tray to cull all thought. With another hasty sniff, you reel - what was in this 'food'?

Sickened but curious, you peer in closer while suppressing a gag. God, the very thought of this putrid array of green and brown slipping down your throat weakens your stomach - no way were you even going to consider it. Sure you were starving, but you'd have to be pretty desperate to wolf down something that frankly resembles moldy diarrhea. Besides, that stupid nurse didn't even give you a knife or fork, so there was no way you could eat this.

...Actually, now that you think about it, in all of your time in Equestria you'd never actually seen a traditional cutlery set. You start to think... you've certainly used a kitchen knife before to prepare fruit, but you just ate that by hand. Rarity had always used her magic to levitate food into her mouth so you'd never seen her use cutlery either.

It slowly begins to dawns on you as you stare at the tray - you don't use cutlery anymore. In fact, the whole concept would be impossible as your try wiggle invisible fingers; your new 'disability' prevents holding anything. You're now an animal, and animals eat like, well, animals.

Were you really expected to plant your face right onto a dish and shovel food down your throat? The very idea makes you feel dirty - demoralized even. You no longer possessed the ability to eat like a civilized person.

-

Loss of humanity was becoming more obvious with each passing hour. On the outside you probably appeared as a perfectly normal mare, totally acceptable to other ponies, yet they had absolutely no idea about the terrified individual trapped inside. Just thinking about being permanently encased in this claustrophobic form causes fear to crush your lungs - how could this be your life?

Heaving a deep sigh, you recap: Everything that could go wrong had gone wrong. Walking - something you'd taken for granted all your life - was now a challenge; age - something that should be eternally consistent - was no longer consistent; eating food was going to be a messy and humiliating experience. Worst of all, you have absolutely no idea how to act about it all. Should you let slip to the doctor that you were in fact the Poster being mentored by Rarity? Would anyone really believe such a tall tale coming from a young, hospitalized mare? In addition, Rarity or whoever else had purposely provided bogus details about you upon admission, so maybe the truth isn't supposed to be known?

Sensing all the internal agitation your tail starts to flop feebly against the mattress, but as you're currently lying upright on your back it struggles to reach you. You can almost feel it's sympathy as it continues to flick faintly against your leg. Were pony tails supposed to act like this?

Agh, there was just so much you didn't know. It was like being a newborn - having to relearn everything.

-

You don't know what to be at. Pure restlessness plagues you, and yet you can't bring yourself to do anything about it. The surrounding, desolate environment further diminishes your spirits as it encases the bleak atmosphere; the constant silence pressing in around you. In an attempt to drown this growing frustration you try relaxing back into the overly-firm pillow. The sensation of a silky mane trailing from your own head and flowing gracefully over the bed is an entirely new experience - you'd never had hair this long before. It was... comforting, in a way; all the males in your family had been notorious for hair loss. Guess that won't be a problem anymore.

You stare listlessly at the ceiling; thinking about family wasn't on the cards at the moment - it was just too much. A sudden gurgle erupts from your pudgy belly derailing all train of though. Ugh. You cast a shifty eye forwards, gaze falling on the slop-mountain you were expected to ingest. That really was quite a deep rumble for such a small frame... honestly at this point you'd pretty much eat anything if it actually resembled food. This 'meal', however?

Disgust floods your chest. In a clumsily attempt to dispose of the manky mush you almost spill it onto the bedside table. Dexterity proves to be a challenge as heavy uncoordinated hooves fail to grip anything. In fear of accidentally flipping the tray's contents over yourself you eventually compromise by pushing the tray table to the foot of the bed.

-

With the tray table restraint gone you realize that this was actually the first time you've been alone both free and unbound.

Is... this the part when you come to terms with your new body? Your stomach flutters at the very prospect. The previous mirror incident had been enough to confirm everything, and yet... there was so much you didn't know.

Fuck it. How would it be possible to retain your previous form if you can't even fully function in this one?

Accepting there was no point of remaining in denial you lie delicately on your back and extend a leg. You watch mouth agape as the bizarre new limb stretches out. Fascination overwhelms fear as you learn the concept of a 'knee' is no more, instead you have a hock on each leg that - in your mind - bends the wrong way. To get a feel for movement you gently pedal the leg in the air, testing flexibility and trying to explore the strange, unfamiliar muscles moving in both rump and thigh. As you do this your tail lies flat, revealing something you were avoiding. Dealing with being a human female? Bad enough. This? No. No...

Casting a guilty look to the door, you sheepishly extend a hoof over your belly. It's all your body now, right? You need to assess the further damage to your male ego. Your nervous hoof inches closer to your new marehood when...

"DOCTOR NEEDED IN GP'S OFFICE" suddenly farts out of a loudspeaker in the ward beyond. It catches you off-guard so extremely that a loud frightened whinny escapes your lips.

-

Immediately you stuff both hooves into your mouth as you scream internally. What the hell was THAT? Some deep corner of your larynx just produced that noise! You brashly rub a shaken hoof along your large throat. This was just too weird to comprehend - now you were making realistic horse sounds.

Too rattled to continue 'exploring', you instead opt to silently curl up in bed. At once, your previously flat tail springs up eagerly wrapping into your stomach in greeting. With a hasty double-check to confirm no one was going to come running at distressed horse noises, you again relapse into tail snuggling - you'll take any comfort you can get.

The sun steadily sets over time, its dying glow radiating through the pristine hospital window. With all elated emotions dying off, sleep becomes a favorable option. You've lost the will to do anything else at the moment, and in all honestly less time spent with your thoughts the better. The stress from change, the anxiety of acceptance... both had mixed together to form depression.

You gingerly nuzzle your tail, brooding over past events. Just what exactly was Twilight trying to accomplish by forcing this transformation on you? She'd always been slightly weird, no doubt about it, but you had never doubted her as a friend - even if you found her personality grating. Had she really intend to push you over? If so, why? Also, just what kind of magic did she perform to subdue your 'episode'? Would she admit to either events?

-

Heaving a great sigh, you ponder if Applejack too would admit to her fault. The painful lump she'd gifted to your face still throbbed occasionally. How could someone you considered to be a "best friend" do such a thing? Then again, how close were you both really? You'd never even told her your name, after all.

Wait... didn't she refer to you by name back at Rarity's? It's all so foggy now, you could have easily imagined it. Hell, what does it even matter anyway? Your old identity is now so foregone that you could be called Fluffy SnooSnoo Sprinkles and no one would bat an eyelid.

Endless questions whittle away your dull mind until only one thought is left: sleep. An incredible yawn creeps up your throat forcing your pony-proportioned mouth as wide as it can go. As your tired eyes water your thick tongue stretches out causing involuntary sounds to escape. As the yawn ends there's a tiny twitch at the right side of your head that grabs your attention, but as you halfheartedly swat at it you realize it just your ear. Pony ears too? That's just too much to deal with, man.

Nuzzling your nose into your bushy tail one more time your heavy eyelids slowly creep shut. At least your ears can now ward off flies if needs be...

Consciousness swiftly drifts into dreams about about going home. To your real home. Leaving Equestria behind like a crazy fanfic. Meeting and living with your favorite ponies had been fun, but now everything had grossly outstayed its welcome.


-

Hours slowly pass; the sun gracefully bowing night on to the clear sky. Having continually fallen in and out of dozes you're eventually brought back to reality by a dull internal pressure in your lower body. Uh oh.

Groggily sitting up and rubbing a bleary right eye it takes a few seconds to remember where you are. With a large sleepy yawn you look around wondering what the time was. Someone has obviously been in the room because all the plants had been removed from the windowsill and the curtains drawn shut. The only source of light was a jar filled with fireflies on your bedside table.

Readjusting yourself on the pillow makes it blatantly obvious you need to use the bathroom. The initial plan of simply ignoring your body wasn't going to cut it as your kidneys painfully protest. This is awkward. Shit. Do you call the nurse? No - that's just... degrading. There's not much of your ego left as it is and you need to protect it all costs. Though... this is a hospital, and they're used to helping people with this sort of thing. It's not like anyone is going to recognize you and tease you about it. No one knows who you really are, after all.

Under your fur the area around your muzzle prickles. Were you... blushing? Sitting up and shaking your sleep-ruined mane you weigh your options - surely even Equestrian hospitals have bedpans?

Stress was rapidly returning. Oh god you don't know how long you can hold it. Not delaying for a second longer you clamber out of bed.

-

Getting out of the bed was no easy feat, your hooves slipping and sliding all over the mattress. Never before had you realized how much you'd taken grip for granted. Heart hammering, legs trembling you eventually manage to slither off the bed falling gracefully rump-first onto the cold, hard floor.

Miraculously unscathed from the landing you hurriedly untangle weak legs and try standing up on all fours. Pushing against the ground and hoisting yourself up takes determined strength and concentration, however this time around it's not as difficult to maintain balance. Perhaps being under the doctor's supervision had distracted you last time? Sure, you weren't going to be galloping about or climbing up stairs any time soon but you think you could probably manage a short walk. In fact, maybe you could go out to the ward and find a bathroom?

Gingerly taking a first step you accidentally move both forelegs forward completely negating your back legs. This silly error causes your body to stretch out creating more internal pressure. Okay okay, it's becoming clear this isn't going to work.

Close to bursting and fast running out of options you feverishly dig hooves under the hospital bed. There must be a bed pan or SOMETHING usable here! Your tail seems to grasp the dire need of the situation as it curls over your nethers trying to seal the impending disaster.

It's too dark to see under the bed but at last your solid hoof ricochets off hollow metal. This must be it.

-

With no time to waste your scrabbling hooves were already wrapping around the base of the bedpan. It's too difficult to shimmy out on your back legs alone so you compromise by chomping the side of the basin and pushing your forelegs outward. It was a challenge not imagining the bedpan's previous contents making contact with your teeth but as bladder reached critical it had to be done.

Alrighty then, how does this work? The bedpan had been successfully extracted and sat there looking foreboding, the light from the fireflies gently reflecting off it. Bile was raising in your mouth - can you really go through with this degradation?

Your mind reels - what if your ex could see your now? Would she be laughing with delight or be utterly repulsed at the abomination you'd become? What about all those anonymous people you'd spent so long insulting online? One of them somewhere would probably get a kick out of this.

Okay, shit. This was the point of no return. The internal pressure of angry bees clearly indicated that it was now or never. Fuck this fucking life. With absolutely no idea how to approach this, you opt to squat over the bedpan like a female dog would. The cold metal brushes your inner thigh making you recoil.

Closing your eyes and wrestling to relax, you wait patiently. It's not long until a gentle ringing in the pan confirms your target. Shame burns your face, your tail automatically extending to avoid potential spray.

Suddenly there's a knock at the door.

-

At that moment you wished you were dead.

The golden shower immediately shuts off; your hooves fumbling as you try to stop them shaking. It had to be the middle of the night! Why would anyone be at your door at this time?

Heart throbbing painfully you choose to remain as solid and silent as a statue, ears on full alert. Surely if the knocker hears no sound they'll assume you're asleep? If their visit was so important they'd speak through the door or some shit. You wait, breathing becoming increasingly more difficult. No way in hell did you want to get caught in such a position.

A minute passes and nothing happens. Perhaps you'd imagined the knock? It was wishful thinking, but as the angry bladder bees began buzzing impatiently you choose to slowly resume your shameful business. It felt immensely good to let go despite how weak-chested it made you feel.

There's another knock completely removing you from the blissful piss. Why won't this person just take a hint? Should you speak up? No. You keep your stance of staying silent hoping they'd give up.

You regretted this choice.

Continuing the stream for the 3rd time there's about 4 seconds until the door suddenly creaks open. Something in your chest explodes.

Instinct takes over and you dart around, unfortunately making a puddle on the floor. All it took was one hoof to slip in it and like dominoes the rest of your legs followed.

"Oh! Oh my! I... I'm so, so sorry Mr. Poster! I had no idea..." a voice stutters.

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