I still do remember every instant of the party, from when I put the suit on, to the moment I slipped out the very last part of it. Every little garment I had been wearing. I never have a very clear memory of things past. As exciting and enjoyable as they may be. That isn’t depending on whether I was drunk or sober, not to say that I drink muck on a party, maybe a glass of wine, but that is about it.
The phase of the moon had slipped my mind entirely, not knowing it carried any consequence. Normally, it doesn’t affect me, even if I may be a bit of the romantic, enjoying the sight of the full moon. That very same full moon just so happen to be tomorrow night.
I use to be a happy girl with a long raven hair, straight and shiny, and with slightly curved up bangs stopping just before my emerald green eyes. These very eyes sometimes grant me the compliments of the emerald dragon. I like it, but sadly, I don’t have a clue as to what these words mean. Did I need to care, it sounds like a compliment to me.
“Hay, I am not a ditzy. I just love a good party as much as the next mare. Although I guess i like to be just one level above them in finesse and style!” I told myself.
Just as I pronounced the words, another thought hit me and I went right back to my wardrobe and reached up to the one shelf above all others and withdrew a large cardboard box, in which I had hidden away the one suit I had worn to the masquerade.
Maybe it wasn’t a big secret, or the great treasure, but I had still hidden it away on that one high shelf. Why, I had no idea. I just had slipped it up there, but there is the chance that the wardrobe simply had no more room, the one high shelf the one open slot.
Now I had pulled the mate black box the costume had been delivered in and placed it on the top of my bed. Momentarily looking at my slender, perfectly girlish hands with well manicured nails, about an inch long, merely covered with that one high gloss finish lacquer I had put on after I got home from the masquerade. I had apparently found and bought it, while I bought the suit for that one off occasion. I couldn’t resist it.
Once I had given my hands that one critical glance over, the next silly idea hit me and i placed a finger on the tip of the nail of my index finger, then promptly, tentatively pressing down, just to see if they were to live up to the promise the package had given. At first, the nail adamantly resisted, until I added just enough pressure and the nails bent in an elastic fashion, as if it refused to break, just the way I like it.
With this out of the way, I pull the top of the box off of the box with both hands, giving of a reverent sigh as I see the pink rubber covering the interior of my prised box.
I pull out the pair of stockings, gloves, panties, top, muzzle, hood and ears. These were the items that made out the suit I had been wearing. They may look as innocent as regular clothes you may wear any and every day, but one you slip into them, they transformed you into the pink Party Pony, the mare known as Pinkie Pie. They granted me the pink coat, hooves ears and tail, not to mention the muzzle of hers. I was literally Pinkie Pie, while I wore the suit.
Like Pinkie Pie, I had that clear memory, the perfect recollection of anything and everything, the instant I focused on, whatever I was thinking of. Never a gap. I could forget nothing.
I love the smooth rubbery feel to my body, the smooth shiny hooves. Just as I did enjoy the curly main and tail. I could not help myself, I was her, I loved every instant of being her at the party. To be at the centre of things, to make them all laugh and smile.
For a moment, I look at the suit, piece by piece, as I slowly slip the garments back, one by one with a heavy heart and regretting every tiny little move. Every teeny tiny little move. Yet, I did put the box up where I had hidden it.
Once I had placed the box on its top shelf and closed the wardrobe, I afforded a worried glance around my room. The cover is still the same regular pink it used to. I had chosen the green wallpapers and the beach wood floor myself, several years ago. There is a lamp hanging from the white ceiling, looking almost like a blue balloon, the one extravagant item I had graced my room with. This is after all merely my bedroom, I sleep her, nothing more. There is room for the two double sliding door wardrobes.
Now I sit back down on my bed. I lift my right hand, giving it a new glance over, as if it does look wrong or off. Then I carefully slip the pink top off of my chest, by pulling it up over my head. I raise to my feet, allowing my panties fall to the floor, seeing my skirt fall on top of the still clearly white panties. I had chosen this skirt a few months back, it does match the pink top. Then I sit back down, lifting my feet, right and left, pulling the short white socks off of my feet, allowing them to fall onto the pile of clothes. For some reason, I slip my top onto the pile and kick the entire suit in under my bed.
I still have that light complexion of the girl who lives most of her day indoors in central Tokyo. Thankfully I also have the cute and girlish face of the girl I grew out of, several years ago. I am blessed with a firm A-Cup, something I am still proud of. Maybe in part, due to the still girlish look I was blessed with, as such, I would look strange with anything more than a small B-Cup in the first place. Like that little girl, I still never grew any hair on my mound, or any of these places associated with maturity.
“Okeley, Dokely!” I exclaimed to myself, before I shut up to my still girlish feet.
I had the feeling I had been sitting on my bed for far too long, and roasted in the room for more than enough time. It isn’t mere nostalgia, but I do need to leave the room, I need to do something. I just had not quite figured out, just what I needed to do. Although I guess a Muffin, or a dozen would do me plenty of good, right about now.
By this time, I am not just nude, but pink from muzzle to hooves and tail. All of a sudden, it is like a flashback, I feel as if I had been at the party, even if I know I am at my home, and in my very own bedroom.
Momentarily looking down at my pink hooves, just as shiny as I recalled them. That perfect high gloss finish I had chosen for my nails. I have the same Equine hind quarters as I had, back at the Masquerade as well. Strangely, I had never really noticed the change. My mane and tail, the same pink curls of a happy Pinkie Pie from the show. My ears, happily perked up and the wide grin over my muzzle, and my eyes wide open, emphasising the smile all over my face.
Speaking of hooves, where my long nails had been at the top of each finger as I inspected the suit, I now have her miniature hooves, aside from the size, they are identical. Furthermore, my eyes had turned into Pinkie Pie’s clear blue.
--- --- ---
5570599 That is the reaon I should need, in order to report you, right of the very same bat.
Never click a story you don't even agree with the tags.
I actually enjoy this premise, I'd like to see where it goes.
5570835 That is what I had thought.
Which is why I published the story in the first place.
Now I just have to explore where she is going and write the comming chapters.
5570599 There's plenty of reasons why this story looks bad, but I think you're focusing on the wrong ones
5571856 At least, there is reason.
If you would be cind enough to point out, what bothers you?
There is always the chance it may save theexperience for the next reader?
Personally I like this idea as I have seen it on deviantart done very well but that's not why I like it I like it because your one of the only fimfiction writers, heck writers in general thats I've seen use this idea, I think more people should do this idea and dive into it just as boldly if people did this their would be more weird but very interesting and exciting Ideas and stories such as this.
Something confusing though is that is she turning into pinkie pie after taking off the suitror turning into her with it on or what because the story does not specify, and perhaps someone should make visuals for this just to see what they look like I'd do it but I can't make art.
5576033 I guess you could find most everything on DeveiantArt? Hopefully even done well.
If I got this right, they even have an entire group that migrated there as thier site couldn't hold the air in her balloon anymore, the suittransformation and curse was one section at that site.
Going boldly would be one of the things I can do,I love exploring the posibilities and options, from the core to the outer reaches.
A graphical illustration could make things come to life in a very different way, even to those who are not the best at seeing a written story coming to life.
5576083 Confusing?
I guess I failed to see an issue like that, most likely because I was writing the story in the first place.
Or is the title also confusing the story?
The idea is that she is inspecting the suit, in order to see that it is still where she left it.
She put it back in the box before she went out.
Ahhh, the title isn't confusing at all it's corny if anything, and I think art of it would be nice with those who aren't always able to imagine what something is even if it is described to them, I sometime ( emphasis on sometimes) have that issue. And when you say it could come to life in a very different way do you mean in a good or bad way since your statement is a two way street. Also I didn't find this exactly on Deviantart just similar things I think you're the only one to come up with this specific idea at all
5577431 Corny, *giggles*, I guess that still would be better than confusing, right?
Kind of a Ponyfied version of the old mythic tail, I think
I guess there are two parts in the failure, just a matter of which is the dominant at any given time. If it is more on the writers or the readers side would depend on the story and the reader?
I guess it would depend on, in which of your shoes you are standing as I said it.
For convenience, I hope you are standing on the right and possitive shoe right now,
as opposed to the left and scared or depressing shoe.
I don't know if all would be excited to see the girl turning into the pink mare named Pinkie, in a City anywhere near them. Depends on from which side you laced your shoes, in order to tie back to this expression.
Would you like for a story to come to life in a more real fashion?
Just imagine this suit was actually available in your city, or community?
Pinkie Pie loose on the ciy for three full moon nights in a stretch?
Ow, I guess I should have figured. I like to go out on a limb with things.
Pull you in the less expected direction, and have you where you were never expecting, even with hat on the surface may seem like a tried and true idea?
Hey you're the author lead the way and I'll follow personally I turn off moral compass in these stories to see where it leads and how the story go since its a story that could have people supporting both sides plus no matter how the story starts is not important it's where it goes will good or bad things happen from here and at the end and what is good and bad to what, who, how, and why is it like that.
I hope I'm not frightening you.
Sorry my dad is nagging at me, talk to you tomorrow.
5577512 Ah, yeah. I guess I am the author.
Wow, you just deactivate the compas, just like that. Just like that?
Even if I guess it could help you enjoy a few good stories, when they are good, because they take the other way?
That is the way of tossing a coin, there are two equally looking sides of your every coin.
Even if most coins does have a third side coin flippers commonly seems to ignore.
WWW, as in What, Who and hoW, or the Where?
5577514 Frightened?
5577568 Uh, ok. I guess I just see you by tomorrow.
Even if the next chapter will take much more then onemore day to be published.
I meant we could still talk later. Talk to you later (ttyl).
5579162 sure, I don't mind sTalking (to) you later.
Guess I will just be here for when you have the time. By then, there is always the chance you have a new chapter to read, too.
Neat.
Sorry for lack of conversation I'll try to talk to you tommorow if you want.
5579180 Thanks.
5585387 I'll just see you, when you have the time.
There are tons of places to incert your comments, though.
I know it didn't get a good voting record, but I'd like to read more of this if you plan on continuing the story.
A first person point of view of becoming Pinkie Pie is a scary yet intriguing concept, especially if it is a 'curse' (really it sounds to me like those stories of a split personality taking over at a certain time of the day, except there is no split personality; the narrator is just enhanced into Party Pony mode).
Really the only thing that I can think of that came close was Why Am I Pinkie Pie?!
5638800 That is among my problems, some of my stories doesn't get a very bad voting record.
If only people could read the story and try to point out what bothered them, before they vote?
Seems I have a few fairly loyal fans, just not enough to carry me over the group of troubles.
If only I knew how to carry the stories to the once who are actually interested?
I started on the second episode and haven't marked it as either Complete or On Hiatus yet.
From the time since I published the previous chapter, it seems to be high time to push this story one step further.
My stories are commonly First Person.
It would be a curse, if it was against your will.
Yet, I guess I could see a special thrill in the process, if you enjoy the nights.
If the changes comes as an Enhancement, then it is more of a Blessing. Even if it only lasts for the few nights each moon.
I guess the Title does summon things up fairly well, even if we know the answer.
You were dressing up as her in that last Masquerade, but apparently, this is a cursed suit.