Queen Chrysalis' Pony School, For Little Girls

by Kentavritsa

Third Class: 5

Author's Note:

Previous Chapter: A New Day - A New Class

Next Chapter: Introduction in Ponish

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Just as I am raising to my feet, the door is sliding up; Rarity is stepping into the room and the door quietly slides shut, while she walks up to me.

"Greetings, Miss!" she exclaims.

"Greetings, Rarity!" I respond.

"If you don't mind, going back to your bed room; so I can help you, preparing for the new day." she coos.

"Okay, Rarity!" I respond, as I am following her over to the door to my bed room.

"Clip, clop; clip, clop.." is heard; as she is trotting a step before me, on her way to the door.

She is lifting up her right hand and extend the palm of the hand elegantly onto the plaque, spreading her fingers wide in order to open the door; stepping into my bed room with me in tow, only for the door to quietly slide shut behind me as I had cleared the threshold.

"While it is a beautiful blouse-top and pencil-skirt you put on, in the honour of Miss Aloe; I fear I will have to ask you to take them off for me, before I can perform for your current class!" Rarity explains.

I unbutton my blouse, without a word; before I am pulling it down and hang it up. Then I slip the skirt down, feeling it slide down my legs; before I am picking it up, leaving it on my bed.

"There.." I respond.

"While it is true, you could put the stockings on; before or after, but you could as well have it done now.." she points out.

"If it does not make a difference, I guess I still prefer to try them on first, before we continue.." I respond.

With that, she is walking up to my wardrobe, opening the twin-doors; before she is extracting a pair of light pink, skin-tone toe-stockings for me.

"At this stage, since it is your first year; your daytime stockings are skin-tone in your light pink hue!" she explains, as she is handing me the right stocking.

"Thank you, Rarity!" I respond, as I am accepting the full-length stocking.

"You are quite welcome, dear Miss.." she responds, indicating for me to slip into the daytime stocking.

I am accepting the proffered garment, naturally; it is after all part, of my uniform.

Now, I am lifting up my right foot and slip it into the stocking; pulling the stocking up my leg and place my foot onto the floor, as I am feeling my toes eagerly sliding into position; only to afford the garment a few tentative tugs in order to acquire the ever so elusive perfect fit: once, twice and thrice.

Just as the stocking is making contact with my black panties, I am repeating the process; soon finding myself standing comfortably on my own too feet.

"Oh, oh.." I mouth; "Comfortable?" she inquires; "Most certainly.." I conclude.

"No label, on these stockings?" I ponder; "but I am fairly sure, these are all of Rarity's very own design!" I ponder.

While I am standing still, contemplating; Rarity is extracting my gloves, for the day. Once she has my attention; she is offering me the glove for my right hand and I am accepting. Not as if I had a choice, if I want to be in class, but still. I had accepted it. Full-length gloves, just like the once I had worn all night, but the daytime variety.

I am slipping my right hand into the glove and pull it all the way up; only to afford it a few tentative tugs: once, twice and thrice. Once I am satisfied with the fit of my right glove, I am repeating the process; slipping my left hand into the second glove, making sure I have the fit just right.

"Why do the gloves and stockings make me feel more exposed; than I had felt, before I slipped them on?" I inquire.

"Oh, these are making you feel nude?" she inquires.

"Yes, I guess you could say that." I respond, giggling.

"On the account: on them being both skin-tight, and skin-tone?" she inquires.

"Well, I guess that would make sense?" I inquire.

"Sounds reasonable enough, when these are intended to give the impression of being your natural skin.." she concedes; "However, now it is time for you to place yourself on the bed; lying on your belly, for me to help you with the next step.." she continues.

"Oh.." I respond; "oh, oh.." I mouth, as I slip onto the bed, lying on my belly.

"I hope you are relaxed.." she offers, as she steps up to the side of the bed; leaning over, extending her right hand.

"Yes.." I respond, without a single thought.

With that, she is extending four fingers; placing the tips of her fingers between my toes, gently drawing the hand all the way up over the soul of my right foot.

I feel the muscles of the foot relaxing; as my foot slowly stretches out, in order to acquire the intended pose for the desired posture. Of course, she is repeating the process; placing the tips of her fingers between the toes, of my left foot the next moment.

"Oh, oh.." I mouth, as the tips of her fingers are caressing the soul of my right and left foot respectively.

"That.." I mouth; "feels good.." I concede.

"Then, you would not mind; if I did it again, once or twice?" she inquires.

"No, by all means; please, do it again.." I just respond.

The next moment, I feel four fingers between the toes of my right foot; sliding along the soul of the foot, all the way up. She is repeating it, right and left: once, twice and thrice; just applying more pressure with each application.

"There, I hope you enjoyed it.." she proclaims; "but alas, now it is time; for you to slide out of your bed, so you can stand on your own hooves!" she points out.

I am turning around, finding myself on my back; before I slide my hooves off of my bed, soon sitting up on the side of my bed. I push myself towards, slipping out of bed; only to find myself standing by the bed, on my own hind hooves.

"Clip, clop." is heard, as my hooves are hitting the floor in a pair of twin-thuds.

"Oh, oh, oh.." I mouth, as it is hitting home.

"The Ballerina stockings, remember?" she inquires.

"Oh, oh.." I mouth.

"The Ballerina-stockings help me to offer you the preferred stance and posture.." she explains; "thus, you were offered to wear them, all night!" she concludes.

"So this, is why you offered me to wear the Ballerina stockings?" I inquire, giggling; as I had found myself standing on my hooves.

"Yes, Miss; of course it is, or you could never become a proper Pony!" she explains.

"But, but.. but.." I ponder; "it just feels so natural to me, now; just to stand up on my own hooves, almost as if I had been born with them?" I realize.

"Oh, and before I forget it; I had one more item for you, before we are done here!" she explains, as she is producing a crystal-clear oral tube for me.

"Rarity" the label reads; "Filly Voice" the subtitle reads; "Light Gloss - Slight Lubrication" the second subtitle reads.

"Thank you, Rarity!" I respond, accepting the tube; "But, how do I use it?" I inquire, a moment later.

"Close your mouth, part your lips slightly; before you slip it in between your lips, slowly!" she explains.

"Oh, oh.." I respond; "okay!" I conclude; closing my mouth before I am parting my lips, slipping the tube in between my lips.

I feel the crystal-clear and slippery Silicone-tube slide in between my lips. The tube slowly propagates inwards in order to coat my lips, my mouth, my tongue and continue down my throat. There is a ripple effect propagating inwards; but beyond this, I don't even feel it.

"There.." she exclaims; "If you can hold this expression; facing me, so I can conclude the process.." she instructs me.

"Oh, okay!" I respond; snickering, as I am turning my head to face her.

She is producing a crystal-clear lip-liner. Drawing a line along my upper lip, from the right to the left; and along my lower lip, from the left to the right.

Just as the circuit is closed, I feel a new ripple flowing from my lips, through my mouth and over my tongue, then down my throat.

"There, perfect!" she exclaims.

Though I notice, how she is using the other side of the lip-liner; repeating the process: once, twice and thrice.

"How does it feel?" she inquires; "ready, to go out to your living room?" she continues.

"Good.." I respond; "Wait, what?" I ponder; "and now; I sound, as if I had been breathing Helium!" I exclaim.

"You sound like a Filly.." she explains; "which is perfectly expected!" she continues.

"Oh?" I mouth.

She is stepping over to the door, to my living room; "Clip, clop; clip, clop.." is heard; lifting up her right hand and gently extending the palm of the hand onto the plaque; spreading her fingers in order to open the door, stepping into the living room with me in tow; only for the door to slide shut quietly behind me, as I had cleared the threshold.

“Well, what had you been expecting?” she inquires.

“I don’t know..” I ponder; “but not, what you just made me sound like!” I point out.

“Oh, you silly filly..” she snickers; “at least, you will not have to be embarrassed in class; considering, everyone is a filly in class.

“Oh?” I inquire, as I find myself snickering at the thought.

“Not, because you are alone in class; but because each girl has enjoyed the same the same favours, as you are currently enjoying!” she is offering.

“Oh..” I exclaim; “oh, oh..” I then continue, snickering at the absurdity of it all.

“On that note, I do have a gift for you..” she offers, producing a wrapped gift box.

“Thank you..” I respond; curtsying as I am accepting the thoughtful gift, even if it stands to reason all the other girls or fillies are given the same.

For a moment, I am just staring at the gift, excited and confused; then I notice how the box has no string, so I just pull the paper off of the box. With the box revealed, I lift the lid off of the box; only to find a small, diminutive muzzle in my colour.

“Oh..” I exclaim; “WoW..” I continue; “Whoa; she is dead serious, about the filly she mentioned?” I ponder, making huge eyes, as I continue to stare at the item before me.

“You do want to look the part, don’t you?” she inquires.

“Uhm, yes..” I respond, meekly in confusion; is this like the school uniforms I see in the Animé shows?” I inquire.

“While I know nothing of the Animé; I do know it is a long-standing tradition for Nipponese and Neighponian schools to have a stylish uniform for their students!” she responds.

“Oh..” I snicker.

“I have been told, these can be quite comfortable to wear..” she points out; “and you will know instantly, if anyone is out of place, too!” she adds.

While she was explaining, I had picked up my muzzle; tentatively putting it onto my lower face, covering my mouth and nose in the process. Of course the Muzzle is crafted out of the same skin-tone Silicone as the garments making up my uniform; sleek, slippery and smooth, aside from its fluid elasticity.

I had initially felt the oral tube slipping in between my lips, just as a pair of thin tubes touch my nostrils; but after that, I can not feel it on my face. It blends perfectly with my skin, bonding to me at first contact; after that, it is effectively part of my face.

Just as I don’t notice the muzzle, on my face; I fail to notice how its material spreads out to cover my face, in the process. Just as I fail to realize, how my ears had been moving up to the top of my head in the process of the initial change.

My eyes are growing larger, as they move out an inch from their respective original position; leaving me with the intended Equine face, she had intended to lend me all along.

“There, beautiful!” she points out, complimenting me genuinely.
Well; she is Rarity, after all. What had I been expecting?

“Now, you are a Proper Filly..” she concludes; “my work here, is done; enjoy the rest of the day!” she offers, explaining why she is leaving.

“Thank you, Rarity!” I respond.

“I expect to see you in class, tomorrow..” she points out, as she walks over the floor of my living room.

“Clip, clop; clip, clop..” is heard.

I notice how she is lifting up her right hand and extends the palm of her hand onto the plaque, spreading her fingers wide in order to open the door; the door quietly slides up before her, before she steps right out and the door slides shut behind her as she had cleared the threshold. I am alone, once more. It is quite.

I start to feel lonely.

“At least, I will see the other Fillies in class, by tomorrow!” I promise myself, to reassert my calm.

I sit quietly, for a moment; before I pick up a bottle of Sparkle Cola, uncapping it and lift it up to my mouth and take a good sip. I feel the fizzing soda pouring into my mouth, flowing over my tongue; before it flows down into my throat.

I do feel the bottle touching my lips, without even thinking of it; even if the bottle merely tough the lips of the muzzle, I had slipped on a few minutes prior.

“Aah..” I exclaim, enjoying the refreshing beverage.

I swallow the rest of the Cola in a few gulps, before I put back the bottle; only capping it, in order to clear the space on my table.

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