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// By Mother’s Wishes: 7 (7/1) 
// Story: Smother Thy Mother, and other stories.. 
// by Ponyess 
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	With my eyes closed, I can see nothing; but with the heat of the sun as it enters through the window of my room, as the only measure of time.

Since my hooves are stuck firmly to the floor, there is little I could do. Yet, I had found excitement in stretching my limbs towards the limits opposed upon me by the body I am born into, and the floor under my hooves.

I imagine I had been well fed, because I am never hungry.  Mommy is returning to me as often as she pleases, any time she can; offering me to drink my fill.

I couldn’t refuse her, had I wanted to; aside from the yummy milk, I can never resist the sensations I have, when I feel her cherry entering my mouth between my tightly pressed lips.

What her lactation is doing to her, or what the milk is doing to me is beyond me; I am after all just her little filly, who eagerly drinks my fill, each and every time she is offering me to.  Should I have refused her; in the fear it was bad for me, or her?  How and why could I do, or rationalize such an act?



Little by little, I had found it easier and easier to reach; the previously inaccessible spots.  Reaching my cherries was hard, the first time I tried it; but now I could do it in my sleep.

Lifting my hooves may be impossible, where I stand; but that wasn’t actually stopping me.  I could still move around; even if I am still standing firmly in place, at the same spot on the floor of my room.



Maybe this is the greater of the shocks, as I found myself in a different room.  I am in the basement, and there is no window through which the sun can warm me up.  I had enjoyed the warmth, the sun was lending me each and every day; yet, now it isn’t there, and I know it.

As it turns out; it is a relief to find my hooves still firmly stuck on the floor, while I am in the same pose as I had been; for only Mommy knows how long.  I can’t see anything, my eyes are still closed under the hood the face mask had turned into.

I never could have felt my hooves as it was, where I was standing still on the floor of my room; so that is no surprise at this time.  With that said, I still do not feel my hooves; just that the reason apparently is monumentally different this time.  I am not held in place by the rubber of my hooves, but the steel the molds had been made out of.  It certainly does hold me just as firmly in place; but the reason, and the situation had forever changed.



All of a sudden, I feel the molds holding my hooves in place were all snapping open.  Yet, with my eyes closed, I could see nothing.

“Mommy!  Are you there?” I exclaimed.

“Yes,  My little Deer!” she responded; stepping up on my right side, and leading me to the flight of stairs.

“Thank Celestia; you are there, Mommy!” I exclaimed; as I followed her up the first, and second flight of stairs.

“You know; I would never leave you, My little Deer!” she prompted; as she opened the door to my room, and followed me in, before she closed the door behind herself.

“I know, but a little filly always worry about these things.  If it is silly, but it can never be changed!” I pointed out.



Of course, I had noticed that the noises of my hoof steps are off; but until I could see my hooves, I can’t say how or why that is.

She had called me My little Deer; but I took it as her diminutive expression, and nothing more.

Maybe it is more than just the sounds of my hooves, hitting the floor that is off; but it is far more than just the fact that I had grown, while I had been on my room.  It isn’t just the fact that I had not been trotting around, either; I knew as much, it just puzzled me.  Still, I had happily ignored the changes; since I had nothing to go on.

Maybe the first hint is in how it feels, with the floor under my still tiny little hooves.



I am standing on the middle of the floor, my tail end facing the window; while Mommy is trotting up on my right side.  Then I feel her hooves probing just under my ears.  From there, I feel something else, and the rubber that had so eagerly and insistently covered my face slipped off of my face.

“You can open your eyes, now; My little Deer!” she announced jubilantly.

At first, I just nodded, but tried to do what she had told me; opening my eyes.

“Okay!” I then exclaimed; as I could once again see the light of day, only to actually hear my own voice for the first time since she granted me the treat.

“Oh; and look down at your hooves, would you; my little fawn!” she then pointed out.

I nodded vigorously and looked down; only to see the now entirely Cervidaen, or cloven hooves.  There are a few more changes, including the fact that my hooves now are suction cups as well.

“Is this why you called me; your roe little Deer?” I inquired, matter of fact.

“Yes, my Deer.  It is more than just the way a Mother feels like making it special; but I need a Fawn, which is you!” she prompted.
Knowing nothing, I couldn’t dispute her or what she told me at this point; thus I eagerly excepted her words for truth.  She is still the Mommy who lovingly cared for me, and fed me all this time.  Every day, week and moon.



I never complained before; but now I love the freedom she hoofed me, at the end.  On that note; I may have been stuck in place and blind for the duration, and my eyes will have to adjust and adapt to the situation; but I am just as flexible and strong as any foal or fawn my age should be, by any standard.

To a point, I could claim to be more flexible than any foal or fawn should have been in my age; yet I did not know and had none to ask.  I found no reason to brag, or cause to make the point.

What I had found, is the drive to explore my new freedom.  Having little to no memory of what it had been with the regular hooves I had been born with, I can’t complain about the changes.  On that note, I can’t even know if my hooves had been fully normal; by the standard of either Pony or Deer, even at the time I had been born.  Naturally; the point is mote, and utterly irrelevant in any case.



What I had noticed, is that my hooves are making curious squeaking noises with each and every step I take, anywhere and everywhere I go; there is no escaping it, but I guess I don’t mind.  Furthermore, I notice how my hooves has a distinct tendency towards sticking to the smooth floor when I am less than careful as I trot around in the house; the home of me and my Mommy.  Most of the time, it is a mere curiosity and fun; even if I guess it could be an embarrassing liability, if it came to show in the wrong time and at the wrong place.



Mommy always licks me clean each and every morning, just as she still is insisting on me drinking my fill and that I need to permit her to feed me.  Since I had grown used to it; I had after all been entirely reliant on her all the time before.  I had grown used to how she tastes, and how it feels to have the cherry slipping into my mouth.  I never did protest before, so I guess I could enjoy her for a while longer.

There are a few changes I couldn’t deny; at least not to myself.  The chief difference is my hooves; it isn’t just the fact that they now are highly elastic, and shiny rubber suction cups; but I have the Cervidean hooves now, I can hold on to things in a way I never could have managed before.  The cloven hooves gives more grip on the different surfaces I am exposed to; than the regular, and common Pony hooves; but it is also in how I can hold things, like a cup or a comb.  Had I had memories and experiences to go on from before; this would have been very strange, and uncomfortable to me.

A less exposed change is how my lips, cherries, orchid and rear orifice had been changed; right along with me in general.  I had thankfully made the most out of the time; and explored the range, and limits of my new found flexibility.  I can easily reach; where no Pony should reach, and with comfortable ease.

When the time comes, there are a few aspects I will have to explore; but I am not old enough to understand the implications, or the joy of it.

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