//------------------------------// // Snails and Diamonds: 4 // Story: The Pink Wall breakers Theatre // by Ponyess //------------------------------// ”Wait! You have promised me the lead role, right?” I put forth. “Of course, Diamond Tiara. Who doesn't know that you are the star?" Pinkie Pie prompted. “Yes, exactly what I had thought!” I responded. “You just need to slip into your suit, and rehears a few times; before you are fit to hit the stage!” she added. “I take it; you have my suit ready, and in my size!” I pointed out. “Don’t worry, I know how to throw a party, or put up a play; these are all the same; it is based on planning, and knowing what entertains your audience!” she put forth. I had noted the reaction on when I implied that she had not been fully prepared. What her expression said, is that I should not push that envelope. She had already given me reason to desire what she had promised, so I conveniently quieted down. I had accepted the first garment, looking like a swim suit; before I had stepped into it, and slipped my arms right in. She had eagerly helped me to zip it all the way up to the hair, for me. Maybe she had been a bit too eager, and helpful; but she is Pinkie Pie, it is what you expected out of her. She is all about making the rest of us smile. What I had not noticed right away, is that the suit reaches all the way to my knees, and elbows. I feel the tight, thick rubber enclosing my entire body, slippery and brightly glistering; yet I had not seen or felt the skin tone material over my thighs and upper arms. I had stepped into the matching stockings, right and left. These stockings reach to the middle of my thighs, and has detailed toes, on which I could even see my toe nails underneath, which is amusing in a shocking manner. As she presented me with the highly detailed gloves; I had eagerly slipped my hands all the way in, enjoying the complimentary shape they are lending to me. There is the one detail sticking out; these gloves gives me the appearance of having long, beautiful effeminate nails; covering the tip of the finger from just after the last joint and is an entire inch in length. What I had failed to notice; is the sensitive, yet emphasized pad under the tip of each finger; maybe that is due to the nails more conspicuous appearance, but it is what happened to me. “One final item, and you are good to go; and to be seen by the audience on the stage!” she then prompted. “Oh, all right. What is it?” I shot back; before I thought better of it, but too late. “Just these!” she informed me. “You are to be the star of the show, remember? Then you need to have all the grace that goes with it; or you would fall flat on your nose, with the roaring laughter as the result?” she informed me in a scary matter of fact voice. “Of course, good point!” I responded, as I accepted the final item. A pair of glistering black ballet slippers to go with my metallic bloody red suit. She helped me slipping them on, and tied them tightly onto my feet. Once she was done, she had turned me into a ballet girl; bound to tiptoe around on the stage, with all the grace she had imbued me with, just as she had promised. It is just a bit unexpected, and I had to confess, I am not accustomed to it, or the details she had put into it all. Maybe she truly had intended for me to be the star, just as she had told me. Apparently, I am firmly stuck in the role she gave me. The suit is skintight, and I can’t touch the seams or borders between the various garments. The suit is highly restrictive, but complimentary; partially based on the pressure, but also the glossy material that is highlighting each and every detail affectionately with aggressive eagerness. There is no denying it. I had both seen and felt my toes in the stocking, but now I merely see and feel the outlines of the slippers covering my feet. I am trapped on stage; in the promised role, with no escape whatsoever. With the suit she had given me on, and to her satisfaction, I had moved out onto the stage; albeit, tiptoeing as the only manner of movement left to me. Of course, when I got into it, and grew warm in the garments and the role in which I had now found myself; I can also prance around, jump and perform a few other moves I don’t even have a name for. Maybe she forgot to explain these to me, for some reason; or she merely found the names irrelevant to me. Oh, but wait; Pinkie Pie doesn’t forget details more than she does forget anything else. Yet, she had neglected to inform me of these details, just as she never told me how, why or where she had found them in the first place. I could but imagine that her friends; Rarity had crafted them for her purpose, but I have no proof of it, so I could say nothing. Being on a tight or short leach as it is here, there is no point or gain by throwing accusations around; not when I have nothing to go on, and no actual proof. I need to know more, and why. As shocking as the original realization may have been, but the next surprise easily leveled the ground for me. She had brought me the suit for a reason, but that had been the easy part; it is merely the role she had given me in the first place. The suit may be good looking and complimentary on my body, but it is not why she gave me the suit, more than the fact that I couldn’t pull it off of myself on my own. After a while, I had started to enjoy the grace of the suit, to prance, jump and tiptoe around on her stage; performing the role she had set before me with elegance. I know the audience will adore me, and look up to me after this. She had used printed images of a girl performing in order to show me what she had in mind, lining the figures up on a line, sequence by sequence. The first poses and moves are easy, I knew as much; even if it had looked complicated, from where I had been standing on the sideline before I wore the suit I am now in. Just the notion of having me standing on my toes, and then balancing on a single foot alone had been preposterous; to say the least. I guess I should have told her as much, before she made her point clear. Then I saw the next sequence, where she had me performing splits, bending my back back too far for what I could imagine. I was even bending my arms behind my back, far behind comfortable limits, for all I knew up until now; that is. Wearing the suit should make it harder on me, performing what she had in mind; yet it seems I could not have been further from the truth. Once I started out, performing the new set, I found myself with no problems at all. I had even managed the split in the air as I jumped up, and easily landed on my toes; as if I had been practicing this for years. Actually, I do fear it takes more than practice to make it; I would have needed a purpose, motivation, and the right built to go with it. I have no idea if I had the built for becoming a ballet dancer, but I know I never had the motivation before. Maybe she had managed to feed me enough motivation; but I had done, what I had done, I can’t deny that part. Of course, I had been performing set after set, scene after scene. I can clearly see her smile as I look at her, once I had been done. Only she never let me off of the stage, or out of the suit. No matter what, I am on the stage, dancing for her all day with the suit on. Pondering if I am happy I can be recognized, or if I should have been better off, with a hood hiding my face under some kind of disguise? Doesn’t matter, I have none of it. Once I finally had been permitted to step off of the stage and the scene, I had time to think. But I had never seen Silver Spoon, throughout the entire practice. Where was she, and where is she now. Naturally, she had left me in the suit; why should I have expected anything else? It is Pinkie Pie, and apparently, she had found it amusing. It is all it takes. I had been told; that we would be on a tour, once I had practiced a week or so. My parents, and the school had apparently excused me; which means, none is actually looking for me; until I am expected back from the tour. Yet, how long and extensive would our tour be? The entire Equestria; and every town, city and metropolis within traveling distance? --- --- ---