.
Ruby had eagerly helped me and Emerald with assembling the device. It isn’t so much that it is complicated or hard to accomplish; she merely had enjoyed the process of helping us.
Then she had promptly refused to help me applying the polish, claiming that Emerald could by no means help me with this either.
“For self-application, only!” the label had explained.
“Does this mean, I have to apply the polish by hand, by myself?” I ponder.
I had still followed her every instruction and polished both my hooves. Giraffe hooves are not really different from the equine and cervine hooves.
The lack of a scent had worried me initially, but I am still thrilled over the lack of stench lacquers commonly have. Polishing two giraffe hooves did only take me a few minutes, then I had capped the bottle.
A moment after I had finished to polish my hooves, I notice how they glow for a moment; the glow soon fades and was replaced with a high gloss finish.
“Too bad, I need to apply this polish by hand; I would have loved to try polishing the fore-hooves as well!” I ponder.
My hooves are going through the same changes as the hooves of my sister Ruby’s had before. Of course, Emerald’s hooves does follow this pattern, as well. The difference is that our hooves now are distinctly different on the more subtle ways. The changes and different made them personal.
These are my hooves, not merely a pair of boots. Maybe this is exactly why I had wanted to polish the other hooves too.
While I am indeed truly a girl, but I am not the coquette girl who thinks about nothing than the vanity of things. This is not just because I had been owned and conditioned by the griffons owning me before. I would never have become that girl, even with Rarity as my owner or mother.
All things considered; for Pinkie Pie to buy and acquire us, in the interest of furthering her plans and establishing this cafe, is like finally coming home. It is, almost as if we had been on a very long journey; to Ponyville, of all places one could possibly go to. Can’t say that I would have complained.
If I had been given the chance, I would probably have chosen to go to Ponyville and work for Pinkie Pie. Who could possibly blame me?
I have a job, I have a family, I have friends, and I have respect; now I do have everything. I am not sure if I will actually be paid, but I am fed and clothed; I even have a roof over my head. I am not told to do anything, I am not comfortable with doing. Pinkie Pie would never do that to me, or any pony else. Now, that feels strange.
Maybe having hooves and horns would have felt strange, any other day; yet, now it is completely normal and is making me feel right at home. It isn’t just that Ponyville is the home of ponies, at the edge of reality.
I am myself, such as I am. I just made a few choices, inspired by the pink mare under whose roof I am living. This, is where I want to live; for the rest of my days. Maybe, I could go out and walk along the streets of the village?
Just that it is late, and I am feeling increasingly tired and sleepy.
“One thing left to do!” I ponder.
I push down the top, covering my breasts; before I lift up the cups and place them on my nipples. The suction is activating and I feel a tingling sensation.
A vacuum is created; sucking my nipples into these clear cups, I placed on my nipples. Strange, but enjoyable. I should not complain. In place of the white milk my sister produced earlier today, I produce a clear liquid. A thick, highly viscous lubrication. The gel is slowly flowing along the line of the tube. I can clearly see the gel flowing past the connector and further down the tube all the way down to the tank.
The longer I am exposed, the larger my nipples are growing, and I find myself progressively more excited.
I am experiencing what my sister experienced, earlier in the day. I love sharing the experience with her. While she did it earlier, but that changes nothing. Exactly, nothing.
My nipples are exposed to the electro-stimulation, as the vacuum is sucking out the clear liquid. I see the tank filling up. Inch by inch, the level is raising inside the tank. More and more of this lubrication is filling the tank; while I am slowly drained, until I have nothing more to give. Yet, the experience is not leaving me drained, but excited and fulfilled in a way I have never experienced before. Did I have so little experience?
Once the cups pop, off of my nipples; I notice just how large the nipples are, momentarily worrying that the top could not cover and hide the nipples as they had before. Maybe that worry had been premature.
I slowly pull up the top, finding the rubber soon covering my breasts, exactly as they had done all day. There is no sign of my nipples on the top now. Everything feels exactly like it had before, normal.
I do feel normal, while I am still excited and fulfilled. Content.
There is no need to undress, these clothes fit me perfectly. I do not need to worry about washing them tomorrow. Maybe I could take a shower, but that is all I need to do. Ever.
Since I am done with the milking-machine, I put it away. I just pull the cups of and wash them in hand warm water, permitting them to dry. I use a towel, making utterly certain the cups are clean and dry; before I take them with me into my room.
I fold the quilt of my bed up; making my bed ready to accept me for the night. In the last moment, I think better of it; pulling of my regular gloves, before I slip on the new boots. With a full set of boots on; I am content to go to bed and sleep the entire night.
First I sit on the side of the bed, before I slip my hind hooves in under the quilt and lie down. Now I pull the quilt back over myself and rests my head comfortably on the pillow. I had not realized, just how soft and comfortable the pillow is; or, am I just imagining that is? Either way, I close my eyes and fall asleep.
It feels, as if I had merely closed my eyes for a moment, yet I do feel rejuvenated and fully rested from an entire night’s worth of sleep.
Folding the quilt in towards the wall is easy, why shouldn’t it be? I slide my hind hooves out from under the quilt and sit up, scanning the room for a few minutes. I enjoy what I see, although the white walls are a bit too bland for my taste.
“Maybe, I could ask Pinkie Pie; to do something about these bland, white walls?” I ponder.
“The building does belong to Pinkie Pie, so she could do as she pleases with it; so far, as it breaks no laws in the process. Even Pinkie Pie would be opposed to keeping these walls white, wouldn’t she?” I continue
I raise to my hind hooves and turn around; unfolding my quilt, before I smoothen it and make the bed perfectly presentable once more.
I take a few steps back, before I go down on all fours and trot out into the small personal kitchen in our home on the second floor. It may be a bit odd for me; to trot around in my home, on all fours. Right now, it is perfectly normal, to me.
“Of course, I do not have the magic of a unicorn, or the hands of a girl; but I can manage my day like this too! Pinkie Pie has neither hands, nor unicorn horn; and she is doing perfectly fine!” I ponder, on my way out to the kitchen.
“You wear these boots, to work?” Emerald inquires.
“Yes, and why not?” I respond.
“I take it, you want a fancy salad, on your chair?” Ruby inquire; curious, but politely.
“Thank you, Ruby!” I respond, eagerly accepting her offer.
I watch her pick the vegetables for my salad; before she is mixing them up into the bowl I was to have my breakfast salad in. As she finish mixing up my salad, she is placing the bowl onto my chair, giggling.
As I trot up to the chair, I realize that it is fairly proper in height, for me to eat comfortably. Maybe I am a bit more giraffe, than I had been expecting.
My lips part, and my tongue grabs a small selection of the vegetables; pulling them in, into my mouth before I start chewing. These vegetables does feel crisp and delicious. I continue to eat my salad contently and quietly.
“As a giraffe, I do have much longer legs; than I had been used to, so I could still reach far higher than I should have reached otherwise!” I ponder, as I realize my situation.
What I do not notice, or realize; is that I am indeed eating exactly like a giraffe should be eating. My sisters are watching me, finding it a bit amusing; yet, say nothing. Ruby just enjoys her spread of muffins.
“This sandwich, is delicious; if I can say so myself!” Emerald exclaims, as she picks up her second sandwich.
“Emeralds stags are quite sharp, like daggers!” I ponder, not considering any further consequences.
“Is any of you bothered by the plain, white of the walls?” Ruby inquires; once she had managed to consume her mountain of assorted muffins, she had had on her plate.
“Yes, it bothers me too; it is going in stark contrast to Pinkie Pie herself as well as the cafe we are building up for her. Maybe just a little streak of colour on our rooms?” Emerald suggests.
I just nod, in approval; while I am finishing my salad, in quiet contemplation.
It isn’t, as if I could avoid listening to what they say, and the sounds surrounding me in the room; just because I am enjoying my salad.
Maybe I could understand why the walls were white, when she bought the place, but now it is indeed getting to me. White just doesn’t feel quite natural to me.
“Thanks, Sisters; I will start off, redecorating my own room! If any of you have any requests, I will see how far I can meet with your expectations!” Ruby points out, as she is leaving the kitchen and walks into her sparsely furnished room.
“I think I want my room pink!” she points out.
Her horn lights up, before she is reaching out to make the first attempt to change the colour of the walls in her room. Once she focus, the walls slowly turns into a bright cerise. It is not pink, by any means, but it is certainly an improvement.
This is much better, but I will see if I could add just a little bit of a flair!” she points out and reaches out with her magic and attempts to focus.
A pattern of yellow and blue confetti is spreading out onto her walls, as if shot out with a cannon. The surface is growing sleek as newly polished rubber, before the structure of the confetti is developing on the surface of the wall in her room.
“Now, that is interesting!” she exclaims, in poorly contained excitement.
“Structured wallpaper!” I mumble.
“For a giraffe, maybe some luscious trees in the structure?” Ruby inquires.
She is walking into my room, while I am finishing my breakfast. A moment later, she is standing in the middle of the room; as I reach the threshold and am looking into my room. Her horn, already aglow.
The walls are starting to glow, as they turn a luscious green. As I stand agape, the image of trees in green are taking shape before my very eyes. It is, as if I should be able to reach out and touch these leaves hanging out from the walls. It is so vivid, I imagine the trees are indeed surrounding the room; rather than merely be an image, depicting the leaves.
As the glow fades, I even see a large, pink balloon hanging from my ceiling, but glowing as if it had been magically excited. Did she just give me a light, in the form of a pink, rubber balloon in our patron’s very own colour?
“Thank you, Ruby; you are a total Gem!” I breathe, as she is finished and walks out of my room.
“You are quite welcome, Sis; it was the least I could do, for you!” she merely responds, as she is grinning back at me.
“She certainly has the right to smile and be proud of her work, here!” I ponder, smiling back at her.
I trot into my room, moving around for several long minutes; just in order to enjoy the experience of my new room. While it is the same room, I had just been sleeping in; it is still an entirely new room, to me, after she had redecorated it. This is truly my room; not just a bland, blank room, with no soul or spirit.
I trot out of the room, content with what I had been given. Trotting through the living room, then half the way down the flight the stairs; as I stop in my track, thinking of what I should do today. Then it had hit me; how I can’t scratch their heads, with a pair of giraffe hooves. I can’t perform my job, such as I had pictured it.
Jerking back into motion, turning around and trotting up the flight of stairs. Trotting into my room. I try to pull the fore-hooves off of my arms, but with hooves; I just can not quite get the grip required, in order to pull this task of.
“Emerald, I will need some help!” I exclaim, before I am slipping into panic.
“Okay, Amethyst; I am coming!” she exclaims, as she is walking towards my room.
As she enters the room, I am sitting on my bed; patiently waiting for her to come.
“I need to take these off; if I want to perform my job and tend to the customers!” I point out; indicating the boots, in place of my gloves I wore the other day.
“Oh, okay; I can help you with that!” she responds.
She steps forwards, gripping the right fore-leg and explores it carefully. A moment later, she starts pulling at the leg, as she imagines it needs to be done. With some effort, she manages to pull it off; before she turns her attention to my left fore-leg. With renewed effort, she helps me removing the second one as well.
“Thank you; Sis!” I respond.
Now I bend over, trying to grip the right hind leg and pull it off, but with little to no success. She gives me a hand and we manage to get somewhere.
“Oh, oh! Ouch!” I exclaim, realizing just how painful it is to pull the hind boot off of me.
Thankfully, we manage to slip it of entirely; no blood drawn or other issues occur. With additional efforts, we manage to get the other one off of my left leg.
“How are you feeling?” she inquires, with some worry in her voice after my initial outcry in pain.
“I am doing fine, now; it was just painful, to take off these stockings, or boots!” I point out.
“Will you be okay, now?” she inquires.
“Yes, I think so; but I feel an urge to take a shower, before I go down to the cafe!” I point out.
“Okay, but yell; if you need anything!” she points out, before she is stepping out of my room and closes the door behind herself.
“Thank you, Sis!” I respond.
I lie down on my bed, for a moment; resting. Recuperating from the experience and focus on the lesson, I had just learned. Of course; that is the price, for polishing up my hooves; even if it looks and feels good.
“The hooves does indeed feel more like me, after I polished them; just as it looks great and feels more natural to walk with. I am no longer wearing a pair of stockings or boots, after I polished my hooves!” I ponder, enjoying the sensation and realization of it.
I leave the hat on the night stand, as I walk into the shower.
“Should probably disrobe entirely!” I ponder.
Slipping the skirt down and kicking it up; before I pick it up and leave it on the seat. I repeat the process, with the panties and pull my top up over my head and place it on the top.
As I am finally nude, I slip into the inner sanctum of the shower and close the door behind me. I permit the hot water flow down my skin; for minute after minute. I enjoy the fresh water, washing me clean and pure.
After I turned the water off, I open the door and step out. Now I pick a large and fluffy towel and dry myself off. Once dry, I end up putting the panties, skirt and top on, once more.
I walk out of the shower and into my room. Now I end up, slipping the very same stockings on; turning back to becoming the giraffe of the family, once more. I like being the giraffe, enjoying who I am. No pride, no angst, no regret; just purely enjoying being me.
“Is there anything else to it? Anything more?” I ponder.
I am essentially nude, but as the giraffe. There are my scratcher girl gloves. I pick up the right glove and slip my hand in; feeling the hand slide all the way in as the material slip over my skin. It is smooth and slippery, as it eagerly accept and swallow my hand and arm. Now I flex my fingers in eager, joyous excitement.
As I repeat the process, of slipping the second glove on; I am myself and ready to go down and assume my position and perform my job, as the scratcher girl. It is my place, the job I do enjoy performing.
There is a noise from the cafe. Balloons are inflated. Once I had bounced down the flight of stairs; I see the sea of bright, pink balloons floating up to the ceiling and landing comfortably with ecstatic squeaks.
Of course, Pinkie Pie is standing in the middle of the room. I notice how she is inflating the last of her balloons and tie the knot. As I look up, the ceiling is completely covered with these balloons; enchanted by Princess Twilight Sparkle herself, extracted from Pinkie Pie’s flank. Of course, Pinkie Pie had inflated each and every one; before she could release them into the wild, under the ceiling of the cafe.
“Oh!” I merely exclaim; looking up at the mass of balloons, covering the ceiling.
The balloons are literally glowing with joy and pride; where they are crowding the ceiling, but act as if it had been their floor. This is an odd perspective, to me; yet, it is the work of Pinkie Pie. No point in gawking, for too long here.
On second thought, the walls of the room had also turned a glossy pink, as if coated or painted with rubber. Who bothers to buy paint; applying that kind of pointless effort? This is after all Pinkie Pie’s cafe; the Pink Balloon Cafe.
In the end, I could not help myself; stepping up to Pinkie Pie, scratching her head enthusiastically. She beams at me, giggling with the widest possibly imaginable grin. How could a Pony grin this wide?