Flash Sentry wakes up in a strange house wearing nothing but sissy Tinkerbell panties, and this is just the start of his best new life ever.
Flash Sentry wakes up in a strange house wearing nothing but sissy Tinkerbell panties, and this is just the start of his best new life ever.
Tags: Crossdressing, Feminization, Sissification, Sissy Femboi Transformation, Dress Pr0n, Pet Play, Age Play, "Mommy" domme play, "Amazons", Size Difference, Humiliation, Teasing, Trigger Words, Light Mind Control, Temporary Memory Loss, and Dubiously Consensual Objectification
All Characters In This Story Are Mature Adults Over the Age of 18 because getting my account suspended/banned right now would give the wrong impression.
(Special thanks to Shallow15 and Syntakitty for inspiration and proofreading.)
The first three times Flash tried dialing the number, his finger slipped on the phone's screen. So he paused, his digits lingering just above the app on the mobile's glossy face. Even in the dim light of the dying afternoon, he could make out the callouses—brought on by years of plucking guitar strings. So many songs—so few stages. Now he had ugly hands. Large ones at that.
Some young men might find such a charming trait to possess—either they or their significant others. But not for Flash. They were too big: his hands, among other things. That, or the world had grown too tiny. There wasn't enough room for him to twirl in, much less the smiles to support it. His smile, included: a very rare thing. Lost—like the minutes he was wasting just standing there, gazing at his ghostly face in the mobile's reflective screen... wishing he could shut that off as well.
Flash then remembered who he was trying to call, and a hopeful flicker in his heart chased a bulk of the gloom away. After a bittersweet breath, the twenty-two year old calmed himself long enough to dial the number completely. He paced around the shadowed interior of a cheap motel bedroom. A lone bag of things rested on the neatly-made bed, along with a guitar case. Outside, it was raining—with watery streaks rippling down the windows and casting a kaleidoscopic dance across the monochromatic room.
A cold rush of white noise cocooned him as he paced and paced. The number dialed. Dialed. Dialed.
Flash clenched his eyes shut. He held his breath.
At last...
Click.
A voice picked up on the other line.
“Hello? Flash?”
A feminine voice.
Her voice.
Flash's breath left him and his knees went weak. He steadied himself by leaning against the window frame, staring out at the gray rain and mist—imagining it lighting up with the golden bands of her heavenly tone.
“H-hey there...” He said, immediately wincing at how goofy and plebeian he sounded. Like a peasant picking his nose before a queen. “I... uhm...”
“Flash! It's so wonderful to hear from you, sweetie! You must be off the train if you've finally gotten a signal!”
He gulped. Hard. “Y-yeah. I'm... uh... I'm in town, now.”
"Oh yeah? Where in town?"
“Huh? Oh... j-just... uh...” His fingers rapped against the window frame as he stared out at everything and nothing. “...just some hotel I found. Super affordable. Should be good for the night.”
“Awwwwwww. Flash, sweetie, you know that you didn't have to pay for a place to stay this evening!”
“Yeah. I-I guess you're right. Still... it'll... uh... it'll be my last time for a while...”
The voice on the end paused slightly. “... … ...all right?”
He cracked a dumb smile, sweating slightly. “How are you?”
Another pause. “I'm doing just wonderfully, sweetie.” The voice rang, sweet and harmonic, with an underlying kiss of concern. “How are you?”
“Hmmm? Oh, me? I'm fine. Just fine.” Flash bit his lip. Bit harder. Then—“Nervous.” He swiped his brow. “Actually... really nervous,” he wheezed.
“Eheh... well, if it helps you at all to know... I... I-I'm getting butterflies in my stomach too. I mean... we both know that things will be... very very different for a while.”
“Yeah.”
“It's a bit overwhelming that... that it all can become so real. I mean... everything we planned. Everything we've talked about. It's just two days away, now, Flash! Isn't that exciting!”
“Yeah...” Flash shuffled over to the middle of the room, slumping down on the edge of the bed. “Just...” He leaned over, rubbing his brow heavily with a free hand. “...exciting.”
The line was dead for a bit.
Her voice returned, as sweet and loving as could be: “Flash... you know it's not too late to back out.”
He gnashed his teeth. “I don't want to back out!”
“Are you sure? We all know how much this is going to... g-going to take from you.”
“Well, it won't be quite so easy for you two, either.”
The phone line filled with her laughter. To a stranger, it might seem callous. Instead, it only made Flash smile.
“Oh Flash, sweetie... the only way this is going to work is if it's waaaaaaay easier for us than it'll ever be for you.” A soft breath. “But you know that by now, don't you?”
“Yes... I know...”
“And you also know... that we both love you. Very... very much.” The emotion in her voice lingered upon a fragile precipice, and for the first time her tone came across as shaky and even scared. “What you've been willing to do for us—and for the girls—well... it means the world to everyone, Flash.”
When he next spoke, it was in a low tone—albeit with steel-hardened assurance. “It means an awful lot to me too.” The twenty-two year old man stared a million miles into the cheap hotel carpet beneath him. “More than I can ever say.”
“I believe you, precious. I just want to make sure that you're completely on board with this—that we're not forcing you.”
“And what if I wanted you to f-force me?” he stammered, throat dry.
“Now Flash...” she chided in a motherly tone, sending his heart sinking and fluttering all at once. “...we've been over this. We want this to happen just as much as you do—but we have to play it safe. Safety first is important. You understand, don't you? There'll be a time for being fancy and carefree but we have to save it for after we've fully committed to the spell—”
“I know I know I know.” He flinched, wincing as his body shrank inward. “It's just...” His voice heightened slightly, taking on a somewhat whiny tone. “I-I want it to be tomorrow already. I'm so... friggin' tired of waiting. So tired of feeling anxious. So tired of being... being...” He glanced at his hand, clenching the fingers tight so he couldn't look at the callouses anymore. “...what I-I've gotten used to.”
“Have you spoken to the girls since you got off the train?” she suddenly asked.
That seemed to snap Flash out of his funk. “Oh... uhm...” He sniffled, blinking his moistening eyes dry. “Yeah. The first moment I arrived at the station. They gave me the address to the Lake Manor you just built—what, with the scaled furniture and the secret lab and stuff.” He swallowed a lump down his throat. “I'm sorry. I... I-I should have called you first. I-I didn't mean to m-make you wait, I swear.”
The voice on the line giggled. “Flaaaa-aaa-aaash... it's okay! Sweetie, I'm not insulted or nothing. Do you understand? I'm not mad. I promise.”
“Okay...” Flash was breathing heavily now. He scooted backwards until he was seated in the center of the bed, swallowed up by its neatly-folded mattress. “Okay okay okay...” He nevertheless rubbed his scalp with a shaking hand.
“Listen to me, Flash. Everything is going to be alright. No matter what happens—no matter how you feel or what you decide—it's going to be alright. I love you. We love you... and one way or another you're going to absolutely relish these next few days ahead. Do you hear me?”
“Yeah...” He nodded, clenching his eyes shut before tears could form. “Y-yeah...”
“This is the first time they'll be casting the spell on a vessel like you. It'll... probably not last for too terribly long.”
“In which case...” He spoke with his eyes shut. A slight fidget. “...I'll turn back.”
“Yes. And—that could be an early out, if you want it.”
He had no response to that.
She continued: “If the experience turns out to be utterly unbearable, we don't have to re-cast the spell to make it last even longer. You'll still be a welcome guest at the Lake Manor. Or at our home in Canterlot—”
“I want to go through with it,” he said in finality. A gulp. “It's what I've been dreaming about all year.” His eyes reopened, wet with tears. “All my... l-life...”
“I want us to be a part of your dream coming true, Flash.” He was certain he could hear her smile through the phone. “And I thank you know how much the two of us have been waiting for someone like you to come this way... and make our dream come true.”
“Yeah...” He shuddered, a weak smile starting to form once again.
“You're such a precious... precious person, Flash. If anything—this spell will only be bringing your sweetness to the surface.”
“Uh huh...” He rubbed his eyes dry. “And what about you and the girls?” he mused.
“Pffft! That you would ask such a thing! I'm pretty sure we've all felt BIG inside!”
Flash was used to laughing. Giggling was another matter. He hugged his knees to his chest as he emptied his lungs of pent-up chortles. He suddenly felt tiny and fragile in the center of the bed. It felt like her voice would catch him if he was silly enough to fall off the edge. His smile slowly increased in time.
“I've started a few trials, y'know,” she said. “It's a darn good thing I invested in that fancy new wardrobe. I'll sure need them!”
Flash exhaled. “You could... I dunno... borrow some of Sunset's or Twilight's clothes. They've been practicing the spell on themselves longer.”
“Oh, you would like that, would you?”
The twenty-two year old blushed furiously, squirming on the bed. “I... uhm... I-I didn't mean that... uhm...”
Again, more of that delicious laughter. “Ohhhhhhhhh Flash, sweetie... I'm only teasing...”
He giggled again, flopping over until he was lying curled up on the bed—along with his smiles.
“Honestly, you're going to have to get used to that.” She took a long, happy breath across the line. “It'll be much simpler to pretend that you won't have a choice..”
All of Flash's insides spasmed with a twinge of anticipation.
“But—of course—you do have one now. Don't forget this is all up to you—”
“I'm willing to go through with the spell,” Flash said firmly.
He heard her contemplative breath on the other end.
“I just... needed to hear your voice one last time,” he stammered. A gulp. “That's the one thing that sucks about this: knowing I won't be able to see or talk to you for a while once the transformation begins.”
“About twenty hours,” she said, her voice also melancholic. “That's what Sunset and Twilight say, at least.”
“Yeah...” He sighed.
“I think I'll spend the time shopping!”
“Shopping?” Flash chuckled. “Shopping for who?”
Her voice rolled like a Queen's: “Who do you thiiiiiink?”
Flash blushed heavily. “Oh...” His nostrils flared, and he wiped condensation off the phone screen, careful to not accidentally close the call too son. “...yes, well... I-I'm really frickin' lucky.”
She giggled. “Considering what you'll likely be doing for the two of us, I'd say the shoe's on the other foot.”
He stifled the urge to whimper.
Her voice took on a slightly more serious tone. “Did Sunset explain to you what the first few hours after awakening will be like?”
“Yeah...” Flash looked up at the ceiling. “Once a 'vessel,' I'll be... a blank slate.”
“Not a completely blank slate, sweetie...”
“But enough to really make sense of how I got to be... the way I-I'll be.” He swallowed. “It's be super ultra mega confusing.”
“And are you okay with that, Sweetie?”
“As... I-I've told you and the girls before...” Flash felt goosebumps spreading over his body. “...I-I'm kinda looking forward to it.”
“Heh. You're right. And it's a good thing too—because Sunset and the others are very much okay with it as well.”
He blinked. Hard. “...how much have you told them?”
“As much as they need to know.”
His throat went dry. “So... everything.”
She giggled. “The only way to do this is the right way, sweetie.”
He nodded, his smile returning. Softly. “It's... gonna be bonkers... absolutely bonkers...”
“A good bonkers, I hope.”
He squirmed, nodding to the dim air of the hotel room. “Can't lie. It's always been my deep... deep fantasy to experience something like that so... h-helplessly.”
“I almost wish I could be there for when you awake.”
“But... my memories will only take about a day to fully come back, right?” Flash raised an eyebrow. “If nothing else, I can fill you in.”
“Mmmm. Yes. While we 'fill' you in.”
Flash wheezed breathily—at a much higher volume and pitch than he would have preferred.
Judging from her laughter, she heard it clearly—and was already reveling in the fact. “Oh heaven help me... this is going to be sooooooo much fun.” She purred: “It's perfectly natural to be nervous about it at the last second, honey.”
“Yeah...” He chuckled. “Y-yeah...” His smile widened, and a tear trickled down his warm cheek as he murmured: “I love you.”
“I love you. So much. More than you will ever know.”
“Mmmmm...” Flash curled up again, cradling the phone like it was the world's last candle. “...I wish you knew how much you mean to me... how much all of this means to me...”
“You'll get your chance to show me. To show both of us.” The sound of a woman's lips blowing a kiss. “See you on the other side, my little princess.”
Flash squeaked. “I'll be seeing you... 'M-Mommy...'”
A soft sigh. Heavenly and pleaseed.
And then she hung up.
In the absence of her voice, Flash felt immediately drenched in cold shadows. He sniffled, tempted to close his eyes, when he saw a text message had been sent to him in the background of the app while the two of them had been chatting.
Curious, he opened it up with a tap of his guitar thumb.
It was a message from Sunset Shimmer—actually two messages.
The first was an image: an overtly-sparkly .gif of Disney Princess clipart, bedazzled with jewels and sparkles. It was boringly generic and super-commercialized and insultingly patronizing. Flash loved it.
The second was a text from Sunset herself:
Just two days left! We all look forward to playing with you soon, Princess Flashie!
Flash blinked. Flash snorted. Flash cradled the phone to his chest and giggled incessantly.
Once the wave of silliness had run its course, he lay still with his chest buzzing. The nervousness was still there, but hearing from everyone that mattered to the young man made the gray malaise encroaching from the outer world melt away.
Only two days.
Two days, and his life would be changed forever.
Calmly, Flash closed his eyes. Dwelling on her voice. Imagining her arms.
There were three scents in this world that Flash Sentry absolutely loved more than anything: lavender, vanilla, and—although he would never ever admit it to anyone—baby powder.
For the time being, his nose was being tickled pleasantly with all three delicate fragrances at once. It brought an honest smile to his face, and he woke ever so softly from his deep slumber. His arms stretched... and they slid against cool glossy sheets. A curious scrunch overcame his facial features. Flash shifted his legs next—and that's when he felt a ticklish sensation wrapped around both his left and right thigh, just below the crotch... which had been cocooned in a heavenly softness.
His eyelashes fluttered open. Sapphire blue eyes traced an unfamiliar ceiling. Flash Sentry inhaled—floral and powdery scents sent his heart racing once more. He exhaled—a high pitched squeak escaped his tender chest.
While everything felt... extraordinarily nice, it was also very very alarming. Flash was aware of a thick fog encompassing him, but he couldn't remember when or where those mists form—or from what angle he had entered them. All that was... all that ever could be was now: this softness... these scents... this ticklishness and this delicateness and this preciousness filling, enveloping, permeating everything that he was.
The boi sat up as quickly as he could. The effort took shorter than a blink, as if his torso—or his whole body for that matter—had far less distance to travel than normal. Once Flash was sitting up, he looked around to find himself situated in the center of... … ...a veritable ocean of pink silk-and-satin sheets. He treaded water in the center of a bed—and a very enormous one at that, with fluffy pillows encased in lacy pink-and-white covers and a fuchsia canopy that stretched ornately above the gigantic frame. Beyond the mattress, Flash made out the ivory-and-cream furnishings of a very very very very very very very feminine bedroom: blessed handsomely with plush velvety furniture, tall mahogany wardrobes, a mirror-and-vanity set that stretched no less than eight feet wide, and an insultingly multi-tiered arsenal of shoes, shoes, shoes, shoes and more shoes erected next to a pair of tall doors. Everything about it felt new, shiny, pristine—like a doll's house. Fresh and special, but not quite lived-in yet.
Flash's mind raced a mile a minute. He panted, hyperventilated, whimpered—all while trying to contemplate just how or why he ended up in this strange, alien, yet heavenly place. Ignoring the fact that any and all things that his twitching eyes touched were enticing in their own unique pastel ways, his first thought was to find his phone, find his guitar, and find his way out of there.
He yanked the pink sheets off of his delicate self—a surprisingly difficult task that took the better half of a minute struggling to accomplish—and hopped out of bed...
...only to fall an extra few feet more than he had anticipated.
Whump!
“Aaack!” Flash yelped like a little schoolgirl tripping at a playground. He squirmed against the plush milk-white carpet, clutching his knee and curling up into a fetal position with clenched teeth. The boi felt a sharp pain stabbing through his chest—more like an urge... and one that he could not even remotely resist despite his entire twenty-two years of masculine defenses. When the urge finally rippled up his body and impacted his brain stem, he released a hiccuping cry, followed by another, then another. Tears sprang from his eyes in little warm droplets, and he heard a girlish voice reacting instinctively to the pain.
“Owwwwwwiieee...” He felt his toes curling and uncurling, and his heartbeat resonated throughout his entire frame—as if his body was far too small to contain the pulmonary vibrations that he was used to. “Mmmmm—” He bit his lip, puffed his cheeks out, and fought it with every fiber of his being, but it still came out: “Mommmmmmmmy~~”
Somehow, just saying those two syllables—stretched out and from the heart—coated Flash's inner being with a cushioning layer of ease. His face was wet with tears, and his nostrils—although sniffling from the emotional release—felt looser and easier to breathe through. Perhaps it was all of those things combined—or something else entirely—that dulled his usual rational self. For he heard himself repeating it.
“Mommmmm-mmmmyyy~”
He gnashed his teeth. Why was he saying these things? And why did his voice sound higher for some reason?
Flash Sentry sniffed, sitting up on the carpet. He rubbed his eyes dry with the back of a curled wrist... then rubbed them again. As he breathed, his chest heaved... and he was suddenly aware of how cold and hard his nipples felt. That's what finally caused Flash to look down and behold his... everything and nothing.
Flash Sentry was shirtless. He was also pantless and sock-less. This all struck him as odd—seeing as how he usually slept with a t-shirt and shorts on. Instead, he was wearing... far far less. Practically nothing. Flash wished he could say that he was as naked as the day he was born, but that was most certainly not the case.
Clinging to his petite posterior—and hugging his crotch in a way that was neither too tight nor too loose but just right in true Goldilocks comfort—was a pair of panties. Not just any panties, but glossy emerald green briefs made out of... silk? Satin? Nylon? Whatever the case, they were soft. Soft as hell... but in a heavenly way. The waistline was hemmed with delicate white embroidered laced, and the legbands were adorned identically so. Then—in the very front and center of the briefs, kissing Flash's crotch with a delicate smile—was a finely-sewn patch that featured the graphic of Tinkerbell. The pretty pixie from Walt Disney's Peter Pan showed herself unashamedly and happily from the nexus of Flash's groin.
Flash bit his lip. His legs shifted, and he felt the embroidered lace tickling his delicate inner thighs and lower navel—just like before. But there was more to it than that. His fanny felt a slight crinkling sensation. Shifting his weight forward onto his knees, Flash reached a trembling hand back and felt the back of the panties. He counted three... four... five... seven(?) rows of lacy ruffles—no doubt constructed of the same snow white embroidery—horizontally sewn across the rear of the articles. It was a marvelous piece of lingerie, no doubt something that only the richest and most closeted sissies would discreetly order from Etsy.
Flash's heart was leaping with each kiss of lace to his trembling fingers, but a nauseated sensation simultaneously flew through him on rippling waves of fear and uncertainty. Whimpering, he stood up straight, standing as tall as he could in nothing but ruffle-butt Tinkerbell panties.
This... did not make his situation any better. He looked around with a flabbergasted expression. Flash Sentry was standing up... wasn't he? And yet—even if he pushed himself to his tender tippy toes—he still felt stupidly, adorably small. Like a doll. Heck, his eyes barely peeked above the top of the enormous pink bed's mattress. He looked towards the vanity—the fuzzy top of his blue head of hair barely registered above the cliffface of powder bowls, lipstick cases, and makeup kits. He made to walk towards it—his dainty feet girl-stepping one before the other. He sensed the world rocking—only it wasn't. It was him. There was a sway to his hips that wasn't there before, something he couldn't control. He tried to say something, but all that came out of his heaving chest were tender squeaks.
A tiny lump formed in his delicate throat. What else about him was now “small?” Chewing nervously on his bottom lip, Flash looked straight down. With two pinchy fingers, he grasped a sliver of the panties' lace waistband and pulled outward. His blue eyes landed on his crotch—and, with a squeak of alarm—he released his tender grip, allowing the smiling face of Tinkerbell to snap back in place. Flash clasped his hands together in a shivering pose, registering what he had just witnessed. Words did little justice, but the metaphor of “an acorn resting at the bottom of a silk coin purse” came to mind.
It was at that precise moment that Flash became aware of voices. Multiple voices. Feminine voices. They were all emanating in a muffled fashion from beyond the walls of that gorgeous bedroom. Flash realized he had been hearing those sounds since waking—but he had just assumed it was the strange house's a/c or something to that extent. By now, however—as his nervous senses woke to the delicate and vulnerable moment—he realized it was a gaggle of women chatting not-too-far-away. What's more, one of the voices was coming closer... accompanied by heavy, purposeful footsteps.
“You're definitely not imagining it, Fluttershy! I heard it too!”Thud thud thud. “It's about that time, already! Better go check on Mommy's little princess~!”
“Eeep!” Flash Sentry quietly yelped.
On fairy feet, he pranced frightfully towards one of the doors. He opened it wide, revealing a palatial bathroom with an enormous walk-in shower, a huge porcelain bath, and countless fluffy terry cloth towels hanging everywhere. Everything—from the tile to the grouting to the bright windows overlooking a majestic lake—looked brand spanking new. Blinking, Flash's eyes darted left and right—and in so doing his vision chanced upon his girlish hand resting against the doorframe. His fingernails were painted perfect green—to match his panties—with the occasional flower pattern playfully etched in yellow or silver.
“Eeep!” With no time to dwell on that, Flash dashed to the next door.
It opened to a giant black void. He felt inside for a light-switch—finally striking one. After a bright flash, his eyes adjusted to an elaborate walk-in closet... that to the boi resembled an indoor football arena. Yao Ming could do cartwheels inside that darn interior, all the while blurring past a sprawling forest of dresses, blouses, robes, camisoles, nighties, coats, gowns, frocks, and everything previously listed times two dozen. Many of the outfits smelled like they had come straight off the rack; several even still had their tags dangling on. Along the floor, Flash saw even more shoes lined up—heels, sandals, stilettos, flats, slippers—adding to the already opulent collection of the lucky soul who owned that fabulous place. In glancing down, Flash was surprised—but also not surprised—to glance at his toes and see that they were likewise painted green... but with additional glitter.
“Eeep!!!” Flash palpitated. Flash shook. The footsteps from beyond thudded closer and closer outside, so he did the only sane thing that any twenty-two year old young man in this compromising predicament would do.
He ran deep into the closet. Panting, Flash side-stepped his way into the thick velvety tresses of hanging gowns near the far corner. The fabric was wonderfully soft—and finely perfumed. A deep scent—like lilacs and jasmine scents—permeated the entire collection, so that Flash felt like he was being coddled to a rich mother's perfumed bosom as he hid among all of that splendid femininity. His comfort was ever so slightly edged over by fear as he sank inside the skirts and petticoats, clutching his tiny knees to his tiny nipples as he weathered tiny breaths.
Creeeak! The door to the bedroom opened immediately outside. A voice sang into every corner, warm and womany... and familiar.
“Flaaaashieeee?” It was Sunset. “Flassssh, Sweetie?” Sunset Shimmer was stalking him. His sexy ex-girlfriend was stalking him in a stranger's house with a strange tone while he was stuck in a strange, tiny, delicate and pixie-pantied body. “Mmmmmmm... now where can Mommy's little dolly be?”
Flash knew that he was hiding. “Hiding” meant that you didn't make a sound or produce any noise or else you'd be found. This was Primal Fear In Suburbia 101. And yet—the very moment Flash heard Sunset's fiery voice say “Mommy's little dolly,” something deep within him broke. With a leap of the heart. And instead of making a shattering noise like fallen teacups, he heard himself squeaking:
“Mommy~~?”
His pretty blue eyes widened. He slapped two hands over his mouth—the painted fingernails trembling. Why would he say that? And in such a girlish, sing-songy way too? Was he stupid? Was he ditzy? Was he... desperate? Desperate for what?
The silence that ensued outside the closet was hilarious.
When Sunset spoke again, it was in a rolling, playful tone. “Let's seeeeeeeee... are we hiding in the bed? Nope. Under the bed? Nopppe. Plus, we all know how Mommy likes to punish her princess for hiding in places where we're not allowed to be.” Heavy footsteps, tracing Flash's previous, trembling steps. “Taking a bubble bath?” her voice echoed from the bathroom. “Heeheehee. Without Mommy? Of course not!” The footsteps shifted, shuffled, then slithered with purposeful slowness towards the walk-in forest of dresses. “Flasssssshie...~” Her voice took on a thick, velvety tone. “...are you playing with Mommy's things again?”
He hugged his knees. Trembling. Quivering. Shadows drew closer—all encompassing, and then—a flash of light as the frilly gowns above him were shoved apart by a pair of strong arms. He flinched hard, whimpering. At last, he peaked up through squinting eyes.
Sunset Shimmer's beaming smile lovingly filled his vision. She knelt, massive and matronly, her warm eyes reflecting a trembling femboi times two.
“Therrrrre she is!” A wink and a giggle. “Did you realllllly think you could hide from us, sweetie? This is the very first place you're bound to go to!”
Flash's lips pursed. His ears—and mind—rang with the gendering that she had used. Either it was something in the tone of her saying that, or the warmth radiating off her smile, but his trembles melted with each subsequent sigh emanating from his fragile lungs.
“Awwwww... what's the matter, sweetie?” Sunset reached in and caressed his face—which took very little effort. Flash's eyes pulsated, noticing that her palm was a lot larger than he remembered. “We heard you crying for Mommy earlier. Don't pretend that we couldn't. Did you have a bad dream? Were you feeling sad and lonely?” Just then, her eyes darted down to one of his knees, and she gasped melodramatically like a stage actor. “Oh gosh!” she cooed. “Did you fall out of bed? Oh, you poor thing!” Her lips pouted, as if she was emulating his presumed anguish. “That must have stung, huh?”
Flash looked down. Sure enough, there was a light red welt across his otherwise smooth and hairless leg. In absolute truth, the pain of falling out of bed... barely qualified as pain. In his last year of high school, Flash suffered a compound fracture during a car crash and needed countless stitches and months of therapy to recover. He knew pain, and that brief tumble a few minutes ago was barely worth thinking twice about.
And yet—as if on command—his pretty blue eyes instantly watered. He felt the same hiccuping sensation from earlier, this time rippling through his entire body. The boi's vision fogged as he brought his trembling palms to his face and... sobbed. Sobbed and sobbed like a tiny squeaking Christmas toy for little girls.
“Awwwwwwwww...” Sunset reached in with her everything, scooping the pantied boi into a warm, soft embrace. “...there there, sweetie. It's okaaaaaay.” He felt her warm breath—accompanied by a womanly perfume with each exhale—blowing at his eyelashes and tenderly drying his tears. “Shhh-shhh-shhh... sweet baby girl.” Sunset kissed him on the forehead, practically cradling him there in the closet, surrounded by fragrant fabrics. Flash couldn't tell what electrified him more—her kisses or those three enormously electrifying words, repeated over and over in silken tones: “Sweet baby girl. Sweet baby girl—it's going to be alright. Shhh-shhh... just let it out of your system, sweetie.”
Flash sniffed and shuddered, feeling the last of his tears drain free—at least for now. That wasn't the only part of him that was leaking, however. Flash clammed up, his face turning red as a beet... for one portion of the young man's body was considerably more excited than the rest. The tallest, most fragile bit—the one percent, as t'were, and he crossed his legs—in mortal fear that witnessing eyes might see “teardrops” forming where the sun didn't shine.
Why was this happening? And why now? Flash felt so confused and scared, and yet... and yet...
As if the devil within Sunset read his mind, she repositioned him in her grasp with remarkable strength and ease. “What's this???” She spread his legs apart and—eliciting a sharp gasp from the boi—she ran her hand shamelessly up and down the crotch of his underwear before tracing the lace hem with a playful finger. “Oooh! We are wearing the new panties Mommy bought you!” She winked down at the young man. “Does Mommy's little princess love her Tinkerbell bottoms? Hmmmm?”
“I... I-I...” Flash gulped, his tear-stained face twisted in confusion. “Sunset, h-how... why are—?”
“Wellllll?” Sunset grinned wide as her fingers spider-walked up and down his tummy and around his navel.
“Aaackies!” Flash broke a goofy smile, writhing all over in Sunset's strong grip. “Eee-heee-heee-heeee!” His painted toes thrashed, kicking the lacy skirts of hanging dresses beside them. “Stoppp ittttt!”
Sunset giggled back at him. “Silly little dolly,” she cooed.
Flash felt his vocal chords triggered. “Mommmmy~~?” His eyes widened at his own uncontrollable melody.
“Mmmmm—you do miss her, don't you?” Sunset leaned in and lovingly nuzzled him like a horsewoman giantess. “Mommy's out shopping with her lady friends. Remember?”
“I...” Flash shuddered, intoxicated by the floral perfume wafting off of Sunset's neck and face. “...I-I don't remember anything.”
“That's okay, sweetie.” Sunset caressed his bangs and the tips of his ears, smiling lovingly. “It'll wear off soon. I promise.”
“What... will 'wear off?'”
She ignored that. “But now you're up! And there's very little time to waste until she gets back!” She stood up suddenly, hoisting Flash with her. The boi gasped, watching with beaded eyes as the floor of the closet plummeted below. In no time, Sunset was effortlessly bridal-carrying him—nearly naked and pantied—out of the closet and into the hallway outside the bedroom. “It's time to play, of course! That's the 'fantasy,' isn't it?” She giggled, like a lion having caught its prey. “Besides, the rest of the babysitters miss you so~”
“P-play?” he stammered, trembling in her grasp.
Flash Sentry looked down at her, then at his own petite body. There was no denying that Flash was a lot smaller than normal. Instead of his usual six foot one frame, the young man was easily down by twelve inches. Heck, he wasn't even sure he if he broke five feet in his current condition. But Sunset? She was absurdly enormous all of a sudden. Easily seven and a half feet—maybe more. Definitely more. It was one reason why the inexplicable Amazon could carry his diminutive figure so effortlessly. But there was more to it. The walls blurring past him... the doorframes... the furniture of what turned out to be a stupidly lavish mansion—on top of being new and pristine, it was allLARGE in scale... a universal ratio that dwarfed him and him alone.
“I'm... dreaming...?” Flash asked Sunset, himself, the cosmos. As Sunset carried him down the hallway, they passed a motivational poster. Flash could easily read each and every word plastered above a kitten dangling from a tree branch. “I'm not dreaming.” They then passed a tall mirror, and Flash briefly saw what looked like a slim, flat-chested nineteen year old college girl cradled in Sunset's gigantic arms. Her cute butt was clad adorably in shiny green Tinkerbell panties, and the spiky blue hair Flash was used to seeing in the reflection everyday had been transformed into a pixie cut with feather soft sapphire strands. When Flash gulped, the femboi did as well, until the mirror was gone and all he could sense was that strange girl's voice emanating from deep within himself. “I'm dreaming.”
“You're delicious,” Sunset corrected, kissing the top of his blue head in mid-stride. “Quite frankly, we're all jealous of Mommy.”
“But... who...?” Flash curled tighter in her embrace. His limbs felt like butter; he knew that if he fussed and fought with all his meager 'strength,' he still wouldn't even shake a single muscle on the tall woman budge. “...how? Why—?”
Whether or not he was about to be answered, Flash didn't know. The truth—and further blushing, most likely—lingered just beyond the looming edge of the hallway...
“Heyyyyyy girlsssss~~!” Sunset chortled. Flash realized that this entire time they had been trudging towards the source of the feminine voices that were warmly conversing. Passing a final corner in the hallway, he squinted into a well-lit living room where a bevvy of buxom familiars sat sassy and cross-legged on plush and embroidered furniture. “Look who's upppp~~!”
Six faces spun to face Flash Sentry. All beautiful. All familiar. All swooning. They stood up with one accord, and it's like a portion of the sun was blotted out from how collectively tall and majestic they all were. The room warmed up by at least two degrees as they exhaled with a chorus of mixed giggles, coos, chuckles, and maternal sighs.
“Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!”
The room echoed, filling with rich feminine octaves.
“Flasssssssshie!” Pinkie Pie jumped in place, waving her arms like a cheerleader. “Wakey wakey, legs are shakey!”
“Well, howdy there, Lil' Missy!” Applejack tilted her hat.
“Heh...” Rainbow Dash folded her forearms with a smirk. “Get enough beauty sleep, princess?”
“Yeesh...” Twilight Sparkle adjusted her glasses. “Wish I could look that perfect when I got out of bed.”
“Oh gosh...” Fluttershy held a delicate hand to her gasping face. “That bruise! Did Mommy's little dolly have a fall?”
This time, Flash tried clenching his teeth shut tight. Instead, he melodically hissed it out, shedding a tear to christen the moment: “Mommy~~”
“Ohhhhh sweetie...” Sunset leaned in to snuggle the boi's wet face. “It's okay! I already told you: she's out shopping with her friends. But she'll be back, honey.” She leaned back with a wink. “But we're going to take care of you in the meantime, precious.”
“Oh yes!” Rarity cupped two elegant hands beside her starry eyes. The fashionista swept forward with a swish of her skirt, her gaze locked scrumptiously on the boi being carried in by Sunset. “Yes yes yes yes! Kisses! Kisses now!” She leaned in and pressed her painted lips warmly to Flash's cheek. “Mmmmmmwahhh!”
Flash squirmed breathlessly under the kiss, smelling Rarity's rich perfume and feeling his cheek moisten.
“Raressss!” Rainbow's voice cracked. She may have had the height of an amazon, but she still sounded like the raspy little athlete Flash remembered. “You're getting lipstick all over her face!”
“Mmmmm—I know it, darling~!” With a wink, Rarity leaned in and wiped Flash's scrunched face with a single expert finger. “But—if you ask me—blue looks wonderful on the little pixie.”
“Shhhh...” Twilight Sparkle waltzed in, brushing past Rarity with a light elbow. “Step aside.” She leaned in and kissed Flash's other cheek, pressing to him longer than the dress-maker did. “Mmmmmmwah!” She smiled, reaching in to pinch the same spot her lips had caressed. “There. Feeling any better, Flashie?”
“My turn! My turn!” Pinkie Pie skipped in place and—with two blurring hands—stole Flash from Sunset's grip. He dangled like a limp cat in her amazonian grip, and thus was helpless to resist when she leaned in multiple times to rub her nose with his. “Mmmmm! Heeheehee! Oh golly gosh gobstoppers, she's soooooo cuuuuuuuute!” She then kissed his nose multiple times, bright eyes shining. “Sweet as sugar! Yes you are! Yes you are!”
“Girls!” Fluttershy spoke in a stern breath, walking up while giving each of them the look. “How can we be so insensitive?” she huffed. “Don't you see that bruise? It's her leg that's hurt! Not her face—as pretty as it may be!”
“I'm... uhm...” Flash's voice was dry and raspy at this particular moment. His painted toes curled from where he hung in Pinkie Pie's grasp. “I-I'm not hurt. Honest—!”
“Nonsense! Pinkie, let me—” Fluttershy reached in and—with very little effort—scooped the young man from Pinkie's embrace. Using her amazonian strength, she lowered Flash until he stood—frail and trembling—atop a plush pink ottoman. Even with that “platform” beneath his tender feet, he still couldn't hope to scale above the woman's ample bust. Flash watched as his delicate friend folded her lengthy dress skirts underneath her so she could kneel before him. Finally, the two could look eye to eye, with Fluttershy's head a bit lower than his. She absorbed his gaze with a smile, straightening his legs with graceful fingers as she leaned in and pressed her soft lips gently to the red welt on his knee. “Mmmmmmmmwah.”
This was only the first—the first of many tender kisses. Flash endured multiple feather-soft brushes of Fluttershy's lips against his leg. If there was any pain to be had in the bruise, it swiftly vanished—replaced instead by a brand new redness. Not satisfied with just his knee, Fluttershy's lips traveled all over his leg, as if trying to chase any and all discomfort to the furthest fringes of reality. By the time the kisses trailed their way up his thigh, Flash was accosted by an ocean of goosebumps. His trembles intensified, and he felt the eyes of every woman in the room plastered on his figure—his tear-stained face, his pixie blue hair, his naked chest, his diamond hard nipples, and his very girlish, very sissy, very very lacy Tinkerbell panties.
A tiny infinitesimal point in the front-and-center of his vastly diminished manhood produced evidence of just how scared, how embarrassed... and how excited he was. Instinctively, his thighs pressed together... and he crossed both of his girlish hands in front of the briefs. He hoped nobody would notice.
Naturally, Fluttershy did. Right away.
“What's the matter, sweetie?” she asked. “Do you feel pain elsewhere?”
Flash whimpered. He shook his head.
“Are... are you upset with us?” Fluttershy cooed.
Flash's heart felt like shattering. He clenched his eyes shut and gripped his hands tighter together.
“Flashie...” Sunset Shimmer leaned over, and he felt her strong hand gripping his soft shoulder. “...lower your arms, sweetie.”
“Mmmm...” Flash hissed through chattering teeth. He couldn't do that. Not now. Not as he felt his wispy meagerness intensifying... needing... leaking...
“Be a good lil' girl, darlin',” Applejack said, her voice warm yet strong. “Do as yer babysitters tell ya.”
“Don't make us tell Mommmmmmmy~~” Pinkie Pie giggle-cooed.
As Flash felt Sunset's fingers squeezing him—a final warning—he finally relented. Fear. Joy. Numbness and buzzing. At last, his noodle arms fell limply at his side, the painted fingers curling up as he... stood there. In his panties. Throbbing.
“Oh...” Fluttershy curled a hand to her smiling face. “...m-my.”
“Wowie zowie! What amazing undies!” Pinkie Pie smiled at the others. “Even Tinkerbell's face is in 3D!”
Rainbow Dash was chuckling, eyebrow raised. “I'm pretty sure her face isn't meant to stretch like that.”
“Somebody's happpppy~” Sunset chuckled, kneeling and hugging Flash from behind. She kissed just below his ear as she gave the trembling boi a squeeze. “Somebody loves her panties~~!”
“Fascinating...” Twilight Sparkle leaned over, squinting through her glasses at his crotch as she scratched her chin. “...it's a bit more pronounced than I imagined.”
“Hah!” Rainbow laughed, pointing at Flash's lower half with a jabbing finger. “That dinky lil' thing?”
“Why, shucks...” Applejack folded her arms with a smirk. “Reckon I've plucked apple stems that are longer and thicker than what she's sportin'!”
“Heeheehee!” Pinkie giggled, leaning way down for a closer lock. “Speakin' of cherries on top!” Her surgar-sweet breath wafted across his tummy and navel. “I'd absolutely lose that thing in the middle of a sundae!” Just as she said this, the Tinkerbell print shifted, and a tiny bead of clear nectar formed through the shiny emerald material. “Ooooh!” She pointed at his unmistakable excitement. “Talk about whipped cream...!”
“Awwwwwwww...” Fluttershy cooed, leaning in beside Pinkie Pie. “...is that a happy tear? Or a sad tear?”
“Pffft...” Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. “Maybe both.”
Another twitch. A second bead of pre bubbled delicately to the outer surface of the panties. Flash whimpered, and he hung his head in scarlet blushing shame. Tears leaked from his eyes as he sniffled and squeaked like the fragile little effigy he had magically become.
“Ohhhhhhhhh darling...” Rarity cooed, reaching down to tilt his head up. She forced his teary face to look up at her and the others. “...it's perfectly alright to cry. It suits a sissy princess such as yourself.” She winked, hiding the urge to laugh. “It's just that there's no conceivable way you could ever please a woman with that laughably tiny thing.”
Flash choked on a sob, the tears flowing even heavier now. Rarity's locking fingers kept him from hiding his weeping expression.
“Hmmmm-hee hee hee...” Rarity leaned forward to kiss him on the forehead. “But that's quite alright, dear. There's more than one way to make a lady happy. And you do make us so wonderfully happy, sweetie.” Another kiss to the forehead. “After all... you're just soooooooo adorable. Such a pretty princess dolly! Yes you are~!”
Flash sniffled, reaching up to wipe his tears with dainty wrists. Standing nearly naked with his fairy panties getting wetter and wetter in front of seven gawking, towering women, the young man didn't fight it this time as he hiccuped: “Mommmmmy~~”
“Awwwwwww... don't you fret, precious.” Sunset nuzzled him from behind. “She'll be back soon enough. We're all envious of her.” She turned his wet face around to smile at him. “You know that, right?”
“She's so lucky to have her own... ahem...” Rainbow leaned in, emphasizing her dialogue with a playful wink. “...dolly to play with n'jazz.”
Flash sniffled, his lips puffing beneath puppy dog eyes. “Mommy~?”
“Hee-hee-hee!” Pinkie Pie giggled, flopping back with a flounce of her curly pink hair. “I'll never get enough of thattt!”
“We really do wish we were her sometimes,” Twilight Sparkle said with a calm smile. “Why else would all seven of us volunteer to 'babysit' for her little princess?”
Flash swallowed the lump down his throat, feeling his tears drying almost as quickly as they formed. He looked at the gorgeous giantesses all crowding around him, and—beyond the impenetrable fuzzy wall of triggers—he found himself wondering... questioning... pleading...
Just who?
Who was 'Mommy?'
All of these women in his life—friends whom he had been blessed to know since high school—were gorgeous Aphrodites in their own right. Each of them. And while Flash had long lost hope of ever bonding with them enough past college to even entertain the fact, he would very... very happily accept a date invite from each and every one of them at the drop of the hat. But to choose one from the lot? Or one from beyond?
Who? Who could possibly be this dreamily-worshipped 'Mommy'...?
One whom he nebulously pined for... called for...
Someone without name or form, and yet—so much as even attempting to ponder the mere existence of her, he felt a wobble to his knees and a joyous stirring to his loins, beneath all the wetness and Tinkerbell...
“Besides...” Fluttershy suddenly scooped the gasping boi into a cradling gasp. “Who could possibly resist spending time with such an adorable little angel?” She rubbed cheeks with him. “Who's a pretty sissy princess? Hmmm?” She kissed his fluttering eyelids, making him blush. “Who's a pretty pretty pink pixie princess?” Fluttershy showered his face with more kisses, giggling. Her breath carrying the scents of vanilla and flowers. “Yes you are! Yes you are!”
Melodic giggles lit the air, and it was only until a few breathless seconds had passed that Flash realized they were coming from him. He curled up in Fluttershy's gasp, feeling the redness that had spread through his tender features collecting in the center of his being—with toasty warmth—enveloping the core of his rapidly-beating heart. He stifled a whimper, feeling another twitch to his sissyhood, rubbing delicately against its silky Tinkerbell sanctum.
“Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!!!” the room collectively cooed in a feminine chorus.
He sniffled again—the scant tears producing this time marked with intangible joy and contentment. He found his painted fingers clutching to Fluttershy, as he finally gave into one of the Amazons' embrace.
And—just like that—he felt his gasping self pulled away... this time into Rarity's arms.
“Ladies. What are we doing?” The floor zoomed away as the fashionista carried him upwards with strength Flash never expected her to have. “Letting poor widdle Flashie Washie prance around in just panties like a common trollop?!” She upturned her powder-white nose. “Hmmf! Undignified of a pretty princess—sissy or otherwise!” She marched towards the adjoining room. “Thankfully, I have the perfect outfit!”
“Awww horseshoes, Rares...” Applejack groaned. “Dun tell me you fashioned the little darlin' another one of yer fancy dresses?”
“But of course I did!” Rarity called back while bridal carrying Flash towards delicious doom. “I mean—I did think of borrowing some of Sweetie Belle's old hand-me-downs for the occasion, but they'd be too large for her! Besides, they're hardly befitting the tone of this most intimate occasion! No no no...” She planted two kisses on Flash's forehead, leaving the lipstick stains there this time. “...a true princess must be fitted perfectly for when Mommy comes home!”
“Yaaaaaay~~!” Fluttershy rose up, clutching her skirt so she could quickly follow the fashionista. “Let me help! Let me help, please?”
“Me too,” Twilight said, following suit.
“Me three!” Pinkie Pie hopped after the other ladies. “Wee-hee-hee!”
Flash heard Sunset speaking to Applejack and Rainbow Dash. “Ladies?”
“Hahahah...!” Rainbow's voice cracked as her and Applejack's footsteps followed along with Sunset. “Now this I gotta see!”
What transpired for Flash next was a blur. A very happy, pink, floral-scented blur.
In the center portion of the house... mansion... castle... wherever they all happened to be—Rarity had set up what resembled a miniature boutique. She possessed several trunks lying around, and from many of these she hoisted and unfolded what would soon become Flash Sentry's effeminate imprisonment.
First it started with a camisole. Light-lilac with pink accents, crafted of finely-interwoven silk. The inner portion at the chest was padded—with the shallowest of “cups”—crafted for the sole purpose of cushioning the sissy femboi's nipples... which turned out to be excruciatingly sensitive. Each of the ladies paused in the dress-up to take turns tapping, brushing, and tickling Flash's rosied aerola—leading to no end of squeaking and writhing, which only induced laughter and giggles from the circle of ladies present. Pinkie Pie would have even given Flash's chest a lick, hadn't Applejack and Rainbow Dash yanked the bouncy amazon back at Rarity's request. The camisole was tied gingerly just beneath the bust with a soft silken sash, and only after Flash was finally wearing the light-as-air undergarment did he realize how deliciously it had been scented—with his eternal favorites of lavender and vanilla... plus an innocent yet mischievous puff of baby powder.
Next came stockings—lightly powdered on the inside. The fabric felt smoother than Flash had anticipated, and he visibly shuddered as the milk-white hosiery was rolled up his shapely legs, one after another: an effort that took the gentle administrations of both Sunset Shimmer and Fluttershy to make happen, under the directions of Rarity, of course. For womanly specimens of such looming scale, they managed to do well at intricate femboi-dressing. There was a narrow layer of elastic at the top of each stocking—most likely good to work for just one time use. While Twilight suggested a garter belt, Rarity insisted that nothing be adorned that would obscure the precious Tinkerbell panties. The ladies nodded in agreement, more than a few of them sneaking in stealthy and gentle caresses of Flash's exposed thighs between the embroidery of the stockings and the lace of the underwear.
Then—came the dress. And it was a horrifically sissy nightmare of absolute pink proportion. The sleeves were puffy. The shoulders were puffy. The skirt's hem was puffy. And it was baby pink all over, like a meadow of unicorns and teddy bears had vomited onto the silk gossamer fabrics in between giggling lyrics to an ageless lullaby. “Minidress” wouldn't quite do the thing justice, nor would “lolita gown” deliver the antiquated justice that one might have desired. It was—for lack of a better term—the embodiment of sissidom: stupidly puffy, stupidly short, stupidly infantile, and stupidly stupid. Flash adored it. And his heart raced as he saw—up close—the mixed floral-and-heart designs stitched into the bust along with the skirt fabric. White lace embroidery accented the waist, the end of the puffy sleeves, and—of course—the hem of the skirt. The top of the dress framed Flash's pretty neck with a Peter Pan collar, and he felt like an absolute doll standing there with the skimpy thing barely covering his legs.
“Mommy~~” he heard himself cooing, realizing that he had incidentally triggered himself.
“Yes yes...~” Sunset leaned in to kiss him on the cheek, before patting him on the skirt'd rump. “All in good time, princess.”
As Flash stood there, he felt as if there was... something missing about the dress. The circumference of the skirt was far too wide for its length, and it folded in on itself flaccidly along the sides, the front, and the back. His confusion was abated... however... when the petticoats came.
Pinkie Pie marched in from another room, carrying an enormous torso-enveloping wad of crinoline like a fluffy pastel cloud. Rarity rested a gentle hand on Flash's puffy shoulder, soothing him as Fluttershy and Twilight lifted his skirts. He blushed as he was made to step his stocking'd legs into the first ring of petticoats—pink like freshly melted ice cream. He had barely caught his breath when Pinkie heaved over another pare of petticoats—this time lavender in color. It took some effort, but he stepped into this and the layer was cinched up to envelope the first. His jaw dropped as Pinkie Pie presented a third—light lilac and wispy. Sunset had to reach in and help Pinkie Pie affix it to him. Then, before he could even whimper in protest, a fourth and final layer of petticoats were presented, snow white and bespeckled with silver glitter. It took the effort of four or five amazonian lady friends, but Flash was finally fitted with the outer petals of crinoline.
He stood now like a very pink, very poofy flower... in full bloom. This allowed the skirt to fan out in a full three hundred and sixty degrees without a single crease or wrinkle, making full use of its adorable pink length. Whenever Flash moved, everyone within gunshot could hear it: a swishy rustle like a thousand giggling infants rolling through exposed gift wrap on Christmas morning. If Flash so much as pivoted to the left or the right, the layers of petticoats would dance and swing and take no less than ten anguishing seconds to settle. They were so full and so fluffy that the outer layer—the white tresses—peaked endlessly beyond the hem of the skirt, which accounted for why the silver glitter was applied; to catch the eyes of an observer and lock them on the petti that was constantly peeking out from underneath the poofy-poofy-poofy dress. Which each movement and twirl that Flash made—and the ladies made him perform several—the air grew richer and richer in floral scent, and much to the giggles of his best friends Flash realized that the petticoats had been powdered with perfume just as much as the camisole. With each breath that he took, the air smelled girlier and girlier, and each inhalation was sprinkled with that same playful dash of baby powder, hidden beneath it all, like his poor sissyhood that was currently leaking fresh tears into Tinkerbell's embrace.
Flash thought it was all over. He was dead wrong. Rarity fetched him gloves—long lacy white masterpieces that slithered elegantly past his elbows and ended with playful ivory bows beneath the dress' puffy shoulders. There was also a leash—although Rarity insisted that it was just a “choker.” It was thin, elastic, bubble-gum pink, and edged with playful white lace. Sunset put it on Flash's neck from behind. At first, he thought it might be a tight, constricting fit. As soon as he was wearing it, however, he found he could breathe just as easily. While the choker was clasped in the back of his neck with a mechanism Flash couldn't quite imagine un-fastening on his own, it did little to suffocate or discomfort him. And yet it was present enough that he couldn't help but be aware of it at all times, and when he tilted his head straight up or down—or giggled sharply at a joke Pinkie Pie said—he could feel the unmistakable tickle of the embroidered edges.
Before long, Rarity insisted that they touch-up his face. Sunset Shimmer argued that Flash had a natural beauty that needn't be messed with, but when Rarity insisted that they aim for a “perfect gift for Mommy,” Sunset relented. He was carried into the bedroom where this entire effeminate escapade started. Only Rarity and Sunset followed with him—as if the place was hallowed ground where only a few select souls would be allowed to enter. There, they sat the boi down on a plush chair before the vanity. This took an entire minute of fumbling and messing with his skirt and petticoats before the giggling women finally found a position for him to rest comfortably in the seat.
Flash gazed—more like gawked—at the adorable femme specimen in the mirror. For years, the young man had wondered (more like fantasized) about how he might look if he was a... fairer specimen of his normal self. What he saw in the mirror took that dream and made a paradise out of it. Awkward nights of taking selfies with kinky face apps couldn't even come close to the mind-boggling mixture of adorableness and sexiness he now graced before... himself? There was no beginning or end to the unimaginable transformation he had somehow endured overnight:
Pixie cute blue hair.
A button nose.
Pouting lips.
Immaculate smooth skin and pool-clear blue eyes.
It was too much to take in all at once. Flash felt his thighs squeezing together—creating crinoline percussion in the process—as he tried to stifle the happy sobs of his sissiness against the silk cocoon of those fairy panties. Not only was his member suddenly tiny, it felt a million miles away... separated by a flowery ocean of pink, lace, petticoats, and more petticoats. He never felt so devoid of agency... so loftily enshackled by silk and satin that he couldn't even control the beauty of it all... just as he couldn't control the milkdrop leakage in response to all of this... dream come true-ness.
It had frightened Flash at first. In a lot of ways, it still did. There was no logic to it all—to why he had shrunk and why his old friends had enlarged and who “Mommy” was and where this was all taking him. But... it was starting to no longer remain important to ask. But instead just to hop on that fluffy pink cloud and ride to whatever perfumed destination it was taking him... even if it destroyed Flash... or the stubborn vestiges of himself still left to be crushed under pink and poof and fwoof.
As his mind wandered, so did his eyes—from the bubble gum lipstick being glossed over his lips to the rosy blush being applied to his cheeks to the thin glittery layer of pink now shadowing his eyelids. Flash Sentry looked part harlot, part princess, allsissy. Tinkerbell would soon have to learn how to swim. Stifling a whimper, Flash's pretty eyelashes fluttered—embellished by Rarity's gentle ladylike brushstrokes—and he looked upon his choker. It was then and only then that he realized that someone's name had been embroidered into the front of the article. Flash made out seven characters, although he couldn't read very well backwards.
Before Flash could focus any more on that, Rarity stepped directly in front of him, aiming a perfume bottle at his neck, face, and chest. Spritzing even more girly scents onto Flash felt like a war crime at this point: a bastardly bukkake of the senses. Rarity doused him anyway, and Flash couldn't have reveled in it more—although he did feel like sneezing.
The ladies laughed along with him, and then Sunset used her massive arms to swivel the chair around. She said something with a waggle of her eyebrows, but Flash couldn't hear her over how FLOWER he smelled. When he regained sentience, he noticed her opening a pink box and unraveling even pinker tissue paper. Soon, the woman was brandishing a pair of high heels—laughably steep. Like something a Barbie doll would wear—that Barbie doll being Flash. They resembled Mary Janes, only pink... pinker than pink itself, and their heels were high enough that Flash was certain he'd suffer nosebleeds if he so much as wore them.
And he did—courtesy of Sunset, who slipped them on one at a time, taking precious seconds to lovingly squeeze his stocking'd feet and toes before and after the sizing. When they were finally on, Sunset leaned in to fasten each buckle. Flash felt his ankles and calves locking into place. They could just as well have been very very pretty shackles. Flash looked down—barely peeking past his ocean of petticoats—and he could see his distant face blinking prettily in the shoes' immaculate shine, along with the choker around his neck—and the backwards letters he couldn't even squint to spell. Tinkerbell needed a towel by then.
Then, to punctuate the pretty pretty pretty occasion, Rarity walked out and right back in with a velvety white jewel box. She opened it—and inside was a miniature tiara, gold and pink and embellished with little rubies and spinels. Flash couldn't tell if the jewels were real or not—he didn't care. Once the princessy crown was placed neatly atop his blue pixie head, his eyes watered, and he bore a sniffling smile. Rarity gasped, rushing in with emergency tissues so that his fresh makeup wouldn't run. Flash took deep breaths—each of them punctured with perfume—and somewhere he found a sufficient enough high to ride the moment without breaking into hysterical sobs.
Flash felt Sunset grasp both of his tender hands in her massive palms. Slowly—very slowly—he was hoisted up off the chair and onto his new pretty princess shoes. The world echoed with swishing petticoats, and Flash was barely upright when a sharp bullet of pain screamed up his ankles and into his trembling legs. He let loose a high-pitched cry, teetering back and forth as his body fought for balance atop the pitifully narrow foundation afforded by his stupidly tall heels.
Sunset quietly whispered to him, leaning over and smiling into his pretty, pained face, giving encouragement as well as helping him lean forward... back... left... right... until he found his new center of gravity. It took a herculean effort to get there, considering the ballooning forest of petticoats throwing him off at every teetering whimper. But—after two or three wobbly minutes of depending on Sunset's warm words and tender squeezes—Flash felt that he finally... finally attained the poise he needed to remain upright in those torturous mary janes. It still hurt. Goddess, did it never not hurt. But perhaps that was the point.
At last, Flash was ready to take his first step. So, naturally, the final challenge was thrown his way—like a ball and chain—when Rarity came forward with a long-strapped frilly pink purse that he was forced to hoist around his poofy left shoulder. Flash gulped in trepidation. However, despite the additional article, it felt just as light as his body did before all of the crinoline sissy adornment. Rarity insisted that the purse only contained “a lady's necessities,” and the implications there made Flash's heart throb—among other tiny things.
Soon, with Sunset's hand gripping his right glove, and the pink purse clutched in his left, Flash delicately girl-stepped out of the bedroom, petticoats swimming cyclonically back and forth around his demure figure, kissing the air with glitter and perfume that matched the pretty sparkle of his tiara as he entered the hallway, its light, and beyond.
Rarity—struggling to maintain a rising high-pitched squeal at this point—clapped her delicate hands before her smiling face. She skipped ahead of the “procession,” striking a pose in the living room while gesturing towards the arriving princess. “She's heeeeeere~~” she sang melodically.
And just like that, an invisible spotlight heralded the entrance of the pretty, pretty boi.
Five reclining ladies sat up, heads turning. Just as before—if not more so—they cooed and giggled and cheered with feminine glee.
Flash Sentry winced. Each wobbling step he took in the heels felt like pins and needles were being rocketed up his insteps and into his femurs. His thighs, his groin, his butt cheeks, his everything were all so unbelievablyclenched, as if the fragile dam in the fluffy heart of the pastel flower might burst at any moment and someone would have to toss Tinks a life preserver. And yet, all of that discomfort was worth it—one might even say enjoyable—if it meant prolonging the smiles and giggles wafting off the faces of his longtime lady friends.
Sunset, with no small ounce of pride, led him delicately by the gloved hand into the center of the room... … ...where he all-but-collapsed into the first hug that caught him. Fluttershy's.
“O-oh!” the woman gasped, holding Flash close and dear to her heaving bosom. “Oh! Oh my goodness! Oh my goodness!” Caught between a giggle and a sob, she repositioned Flash (and his petticoats) so that she could more easily cradle and cuddle the young man, digging her happy face into his neck and puffy shoulders and coming very close to hysterics. “She's too much! She's just... too pink and too adorable and too cute and too much! Oh Rarity!” She kissed his face and ear and chin and neck. “I want one, Rarity! Oh goodness I want one of my ownnnnn!”
“Uh uh uh uh—!” Rarity rushed in, gently prying Fluttershy and her smother-victim lightly apart. “Now now, darling, I spent the better part of an hour prettying her up!” She waved a naughty finger, nevertheless smirking. “I shan't let you ruin my hard work before Mommy comes home~~!”
“Awwwwwwww Rares!” Pinkie pouted, hopping up and down in her seat. “Can't we just cuddle with her a little? Can weeeeee? She's just too adorasexy not to hug and kiss!”
“They won't last the evening if they don't, Rarity,” Sunset said with her hands on her hips. “You know that.”
“Hrmmmff...” Rarity rolled her eyes. “Fine.” Another finger wave. “But easy on the face and makeup! That's the most delicate part!”
“Well, how about it, Fluttershy?” Rainbow Dash rasped. “You already had your fill.”
Fluttershy let loose a long, soft, musical-but-melancholic sigh. “I knowwwww...” She pouted, resting Flash in her lap so she could gaze at him one last time. She reached up to straighten his tiara and caress his feather-soft blue bangs. “...such an adorable, fragile dolly.”
Flash's breath sucked in. He clutched the purse to the poofy chest of the dress. “Mommy~~.”
“Heeheehee... not this time.” Fluttershy winked, then passed Flash over to Pinkie Pie like he was a puppy. “Here you go, Pinkie—”
“Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee~~!” Pinkie plopped Flash down into her amazonian lap. His petticoats took several seconds to settle, and she kindly took note. “Heeheehee!” Gently grasping him beneath his arms, she raised him up and down in fragrant little hops. “Bouncy~~! Bouncy~~! Baby go bouncy~~!”
Flash giggled, blushing as he cupped a gloved hand to his rosy cheek.
“Hmmmmm...” Pinkie leaned forward and rubbed her nose against his. She took a moment to inhale the drenched cornucopia of girlish scents practically staining him and his outfits. The party planner shuddered, her features reddening as her voice and breath took on a delicate stiffness. “Are you having fun, Fwoofy-Fwoof?”
He nodded, leaning into her fluffy hug. “I am, Pinkie Pie~”
“Mmmm-hee-hee-hee...” She turned to wink at us. “Well at least someone is.”
Flash did a double-take. His pretty eyes curious scoured the walls of the room—
“Here ya go, Dashie!” Flash plopped him on the lap of the giantess sitting on the large sofa next to her. “I'm... uhm...” She hopped up, sweating and squirming suddenly. “...gonna go use the big girls' room.” And she rushed out in a pink blur.
“Yeah yeah, whatever.” Rainbow Dash fussed and struggled to straighten Flash's petticoats—ultimately giving up and just ... letting him lie back in an ocean of mangled crinoline. She stared long and hard into his rosy, glittery face. “... … ...goddess you're a sissy.”
Flash gulped. “You're... b-big.”
“Born yesterday too? Pffft. Sunset shoulda died your hair blonde.” That said, she ran a hand across the edge of his bangs, not toying so much as to elicit a complaint from Rarity, who was hovering over the scene at all times. “Yeesh...” Rainbow snickered, digging a hand deep... deep into that flowery mess of petticoats mooshed like a pastel flowerbed between them. “...overdoing it a bit, Rares?”
“If you ask me, darling, not enough for a princess such as she!”
“Yeah yeah. Glam and all that. Like a true Valentine's Day Massacre, right here.” Rainbow's voice turned raspier. Flash noticed a flushed redness—much like Pinkie's—running from the bridge of Rainbow's nose to her upper lip. He was so affixed to this that he scarcely noticed—much less felt—Rainbow's athletic fingers snaking their way through the crinoline sea... … ...until she made contact with his pantied posterior. The boi gasped—and in response, Rainbow ran her palm back and forth across the multiple lace ruffles before giving his fanny a firm squeeze. “Hmmmm...” She leaned in, kissed his ear, kissed his ear again, then breathed hotly: “Dang, that's hawt.”
Flash could scarcely whimper—
“Ya done, sugarcube?”
“Uhhh... yeah!” Rainbow yanked her hand straight out of the petticoats like she was finished drilling for oil. Sitting up and straight, she passed the boi along like the intoxicating joint he had become, before leaning back against the sofa with casual swagger. “Ehhhhh... weak as a wet paper napkin in the rain. Quite frankly, I don't see what 'Mommy' or any of her friends see in the lil' minx.”
“That's cuz ya ain't got heart for small and precious thangs.” Applejack laid Flash down in her arms, cradling him so that his face was closer to her freckles. She immediately melted into a loving smile. “Howdy there, gorgeous.”
Flash dryly gulped. “H-hi there, Applejack.”
“So... uh...” She caressed his cheek, then blinked at her own reflection in his tiara. “...you enjoyin' the change? In you? In all of us?”
“Uhm... yes. Very much so.” His glossy lips pursed. “Do... do you remember how and why everything chan—?”
“Awwwww shucks, I can't flippin' hold back no more!” Applejack heaved Flash's face up to her lips and smooooooooooched him all over.
“Applejack!” Rarity hissed. Meanwhile, Rainbow Dash laughed, slapping her knee while keeling over.
“Mmmmmmmmmmmmmwahhhh!” Applejack leaned back, licking the sugary lip gloss now plastered to her own lips. Flash's face was a smeared mess now, but she gazed at him hungrily all the same. “Land's sakes, I just wanna gobble you up forever!”
“You will do no such thing!” Rarity rushed over, leaning in. Her white face paled even more. “Good gracious! Now look what you done! I'll have to do the poor doll's face all over again—!”
“Mommy~~”
“Shucks—whenever she says that I just wanna fall a tree!” Applejack went in once again for the kill.
“Uh uhhhh!” Rarity tried holding her back. “Her face! Her faaaace!”
“A-a-ahem...” Twilight suddenly interjected. From where she stood, she leaned over and scooped Flash up into her arms. “Before you do. First thing's first.”
Rarity rolled her eyes. “Is there nothing sacred?! Fine!!” She waved a dainty wrist. “Kidnap the princess, you foul dragon, you!”
“I left the fiery breath back at home. Don't worry.” Twilight smirked wryly, bridal carrying Flash and gazing into his gussied face. “Whelp...” Freeing one hand, she took her glasses off and rested them into the neckline of her shirt. “...entropy and all that.” Holding her breath, she leaned in and offensively frenched Flash, summoning a muffled squeak from him as his tongue fought a losing battle against the bookworm's, his petite body electrified—so that his petticoats shook and swished between them.
Applejack and Rainbow Dash fanned themselves during the entire duration of the kiss. Rarity rolled her eyes while Fluttershy held a hand over her blushing mouth. There was the sound of a toilet flushing in the distance; Pinkie Pie bounced back in, looking relieved and a little sweaty.
“Hiya, girls, what did I miss—HOLY SH—!!” Sunset clamped her hand over Pinkie's gaping mouth.
“Shhhh!” Sunset insisted, smiling saucily at the still ongoing kiss. “Princesses are present.”
Pinkie nodded into Sunset's palm. “Nf ffffggngg gfffddnggg!”
At last, Twilight was done devouring Flash. She gently leaned over, seated him on the edge of a plush ottoman, and smoothed out his skirt and petticoats. Standing straight up, she placed her glasses back on, fixed her frazzled hair, and smiled with her hands on her hips.
“Schrodinger, what I wouldn't give for Timber to buy me a toy that works that well.”
“I'll keep that in mind for your anniversary,” Rarity muttered, then squatted down before Flash. She tsk'd tsk'd at his smeared makeup, then spoke. “Flash, sweetie, your purse... remember?”
“Huh...?” Flash blinked blearily, then awoke to the moment. “Oh...!” He reached delicately for his pink bag, unraveling the strap from his poofy shoulder. His gloved fingers fumbled and fumbled with the clasp.
“Allow me...” Rarity said, smiling. Reaching forward with lady-like grace and effortlessly unclasped the purse in one motion. “You must be able to fix yourself at any and all times. Such is the constant vigilance that true beauty demands.”
Flash watched as she reached into his purse and pulled out a compact, lip gloss, and a tissue. Per her instructions he stood straight and attentive on the ottoman. As Rarity fixed his face—removing the smears and offset shadow before reapplying—he stole a glance inside the purse and noticed several oval-shaped packages. Flash's eyebrow raised, nearly throwing Rarity off her rhythm. The young man thought back to youthful days of sharing a bathroom with his older sister, and the trace images came together.
“Uhm... Rarity?” He gulped, eyes darting towards the purse. “What... are those for?”
“Hahahahah—that you would ask such a silly thing, darling!” Rarity winked, putting on the finishing finishing touches to his lips and eyelashes once again. “Well, sissy or not, you're still a lady, my dear, and you can't expect Tinkerbell to catch everything.”
Flash insides locked up—hot and heavy—with mixed anticipation and dread.
“Oh blast,” Rarity cursed, leaning her chin on her hand as she squinted at her masterpiece. “Did I apply too much rouge?”
“Actually, Rarity...” Sunset leaned in. “I just think she's blushing.”
“Unf!” Rarity pouted, arms folded. “Flashie, princess, stop being such an insufferably sensitive pansy!”
Flash bit his lip, fighting tears. “I... I-I can't help it...”
All seven women laughed. Fluttershy made a kamikaze dive to scoop him up in another hug, but Sunset and Twilight played defense.
The next hour played out fragrantly. Sunset Shimmer put on a movie in the background: Disney's Beauty and the Beast, of course. Fluttershy swiftly found an excuse to sit cuddled with Flash in her lap. She behaved herself the whole time, and when Pinkie Pie came back in later with home-made gummy fruit snacks, the two shared them—with Fluttershy literally finger-feeding the scrumptious morsels into Flash's glossy lips. Fluttershy giggled with delight, and Flash did too.
He smiled—even later as he sat in Rarity's lap—and she combed and straightened and perfected the feathery-soft bangs of his pixie blue hair. The discussion had shifted, with very few of them paying attention to the animated movie flickering in the background. A brief conversation about college and career plans very swiftly plunged into a saucy discussion about boys—utterly decimating the Bechdel Test before Flash's tender ears in a matter of seconds. Whenever Rarity talked about the latest “outing” she had with a handsome beau—going into exceedingly moist details—he felt her legs squirming beneath his ocean of petticoats. She also gave him a light little squeeze around the waist as she sighed dreamily about some rock-chiseled specimen of masculinity or another... as if Flash wasn't there. Or—rather—in full acceptance that all that remained of the young man could only match the pastels, the pinks, and the petticoats that so offensively ensnared him.
Sunset Shimmer was no less shy in discussing recent romantic escapades, conquests, etc. This was something that—perhaps in another life, a boring and old and stale one that Flash once faintly remembered—would have embarrassed or offended the young man on some level. But it felt different for the sissy Flash—here and now—where he was just a doll listening in, belonging to the moment... and to the women... like a recreational pink vibrator might belong inside one of their purses, having freshly been taken out into for a moment of “fun.”
“Mommy~~” he sighed, leaning back into Twilight's embrace a half-hour later as the movie's credits were rolling.
“Shhhh...” The nerdy woman shook him out of his pink, pink near-slumber. He felt her hands squeezing him through the puffy shoulders of his dress. “...funny you should say that.”
“... … ...?” Flash blinked innocently. He heard the sound of the manor's front door opening and closing, followed by the rustle of bags and the clap-clap-clapping of heels against a foyer's tile floor.
One voice spoke above the rest, melodic, womany, powerful and succulent and loving all the same. Flash found himself sitting up with a jerk, his chest palpitating inside his sissy pink dress. His eyes twitched; he could feel his pupils shrinking in adrenalized anticipation.
For who?
For what?
What force had so compelled Flash—had so thoroughly entranced him—to be this longing, this hungry, this desperate for reunion... so much so that he was almost entirely willing to forget whatever faint fragment of a life may or may not have preceded his whimsical waking in that big pink bed?
“Rainbow...?” Twilight craned her neck, addressing one of the girls as they all gradually stood from their seats. “You know what to do.”
“Heck yeah I do!” Rainbow saluted and jogged into the next room. “Be back in a jiffy!”
“Ssssh...” Sunset hurried over. With Twilight's help, the two raised Flash to his wobbly feet. It took some timid teetering, but he soon stood prim and proper in those accursed heels. “Just a few seconds more, sweet dolly.”
“Mommy...~~” he cooed, as if hypnotized.
“Boy is she.” Sunset winked, handing him his pink purse.
Flash trembled, nevertheless hoisting the article over his shoulder by his strap. He stood facing the entrance to the room, briefly fussing with his hair... his tiara... his skirts—only to remember on each and every occasion that Rarity had done all of the heavy legwork for him ten times over.
Speaking of whom—the fashionista was sashaying back into the room. Pinkie, Applejack, and Fluttershy stepped aside as she gestured towards the sissy specimen standing gloriously in the center of the lavish interior.
“Ta-daaaaa!” Rarity chimed, smiling proudly. “There she be! Your adorable little princess! Right here in the Lake House, where you left herrrrrr!”
Flash stared and stared.
Faint breaths feathered in and out of his pink lips as he waited and looked.
Waited and looked.
Waited and—
A tall figure walked in—somehow taller and more majestic than the giantesses his friends had turned out to be.
Flash's heart leapt—then settled into a soft bed of familiarity. For it wasn't “Mommy.” He didn't know how he knew, but he knew.
This woman was beautiful, nonetheless. What's more: her pale complexion, her flowing pastel hair, her trademark blouse-and-pantsuit look were all unmistakable. Flash's former principal looked him up and down, stifled a giggle, then spoke in a warm voice.
“As gorgeous as I remember,” Celestia said. She put down several brightly-colored shopping bags down and folded her arms. “Although... dressed a bit differently.”
“Ya think?!” Pinkie called out.
Fluttershy and Applejack chuckled.
Another figure came in—also majestic in height and splendor.
Flash felt his breath leaving him yet again, but calmed swiftly.
This wasn't “Mommy” either...
His yearning eyes reflected a noticeably darker hue of blue, with smokey hair and an even smokier complexion. Exotic beauty framed within a stalwart figure—that was Flash's former vice-principal in a nutshell.
“Ah, but of course.” Luna placed another assortment of bags down and stood beside her older sister. Her smile was subtler than Celestia's. “That would explain why she had to use more than one card.”
“Did you have fun?” Twilight asked.
“Oh, absolutely...” Celestia tossed her hair back and looked aside, along with Luna. “Of course... it's always fun when she takes the lead.”
The room lit up with soft pastel colors.
Flash looked. Flash lived. And his needing eyes—at last—were filled with sparkles.
It was her.
It had to have been her.
There was no mistaking it.
With each pulsating firecracker delicately sounding off in Flash's veins... Flash's nerves... Flash's panties...
...there was no way in heck it could have been anyone else.
Just gazing at her immaculate smile... her rose-tinted eyes... her porcelain pink skin and the way she carried herself with shapely legs, full hips, and the gentle rain-soft swish of her skirt...
...he knew.
Part of him fought the knowledge. The last gossamer strand of Flash that was still clinging to the need for an explanation floundered over “why.”“Why her.” Someone whom—as far as his foggy effeminate mind could currently recollect—he barely knew before the pink bed as a passing acquaintance... someone he maybe once or twice had a passing thought about—no doubt in reverence to her rich womanly beauty and grace and then some.
But, truth of the matter, there was no explaining it. No understanding it.
Just embracing it... as she looked back at him... as she spoke to him... and as the love in her eyes transferred to her voice with only the sweet kiss of perfect beauty forming the frail passage in between.
No. There was no other way for this to have unfolded. It was a fairy tale. A dream come true. Flash cooed—leaning forward, in mind and body—towards that blissful buxom ever after, baptized by her words.
“Oh... and what a sweet job you girls did, Rarity,” she cooed. “Although... nothing can truly be sweeter than the source itself.” She placed her bags down, took a step forward from where her lady friends stood, and held her hands out as if to hug him from afar. “Hello Flash, my sweet sissy dolly.”
Flash swallowed the next breath with a delicate, inward squeak. His complexion rosied over, and he felt himself rising even higher in those heels. A soft sigh melted through his body, pooling shamelessly into the Tinkerbell crotch of his panties. He no longer felt sorry for the fairy, or for himself, or for anything.
“Oh Mommmmmy~~~”
“That's right, princess.” She smiled, her eyes moistening... as if she too wasn't sure things would be this perfect until they were. “Mommy's home.” She clasped her pink hands together before her bosomy blouse, sighing with a happy shudder. “Oh gosh, Mommy's so happy to see you like this...”
“Psssst...” Sunset Shimmer leaned in, whispering gently into Flash's ear. “Make a curtsy before Mommy, dolly.”
Flash sniffled, fighting back tears of joy. There was suddenly no off-balance awkwardness as he lifted the outer edges of his skirts, kneeling low in his heels, petticoats rising and falling with the graceful dip.
“Welcome home, Mommy~”
“O-oh...” She cupped her hands to her mouth, then fanned herself with both wrists while fighting the urge to hop up and down like a schoolgirl. “She's j-just... so perfect!”
“I can see that,” Luna droned, hiding a wry smirk.
“Yes, Cadance.” Celestia looked at the source of Flash's boundless adoration. “Care to fill us in on your secret sometime?”
“No.” Cadance slowly shook her head. “No, I don't.” With a click of her heels, she walked towards her sissy toy. “I've waited a long time for this, Flash. As I know you have—”
His sensitive chest rose with a pent-up gasp as she approached—
“Waaaaaait!” Rainbow Dash rushed back into the room, hauling a stack of phone books in her athletic arms. Huffing and puffing—as if she was still normal-sized—she stood directly between Cadance and the sissy. Then, in quick order, she stacked the excessive paper collection in front of one another, in ascending order towards Cadance. A series of “steps” had been formed, like how one might enter a train or a pumpkin stagecoach. “Hah. There we go.” Rainbow planted her hands on her hips. “Was totally worth all that dumpster diving.”
“Now's not the time, Rainbow!” Rarity hissed.
“Oh go suck your gunky head!” Rainbow stuck her tongue out, then winked at Flash. “She's all yours, sweet cheeks.”
Cadance looked towards Twilight. “Does... can she remember yet?”
Twilight shook her head. “No. Should be... eh... a few more hours to go yet before everything comes back to her.”
“Go on, Flashie,” Sunset said, giving his shoulder a loving pat. “Go kiss your Mommy.”
Rarity's hands were tightly clasped together as she breathed with a flushed expressin. “Go greet your Goddess.”
“Here, dolly...” Fluttershy gently led him by the hand, leading the petite young man towards the woman in question. “That's it”
“Mommy~~” he cooed, eyes full of stars as he clutched Fluttershy's grip in one hand and the purse in the other.
Cadance stood before the stack of books with her hands outstretched. “That's right, sweetie. You're almost there~” Her face sang—led by a smile. “You're almost mine~”
Flash breathed and breathed. Fluttershy gently led him—slowing as he reached the phone books. He took one timid step after another, the pink heels painful and precarious as they mounted the paper-bound platforms. Nevertheless, he ascended, Cadance's beautiful face coming into view, filling his vision and his heart and soon his underwear. He reached the tallest step—and even still she loomed above him, a majestic goddess who could cradle or crush or coddle or collapse him in a single motion—he did not care which she chose. He was all hers.
Cadance held her breath... then stretched her hand out.
Flash released his grip of Fluttershy. Fingers trembled as he aimed his gloved hand towards Cadance.
At last, Cadance clasped the boi's slender wrists. He instantly whimpered, and it was clear that the same electrifying joy was rippling through her as it was through him. Maybe only half of them expected this moment to manifest, but it was wholesome and fulfilling all throughout.
“Oh sweetie, here you are...” Cadance reached in and caressed his face, and his knees went weak. “Here you are, my pretty sissy dolly.”
He cracked a smile, tears budding in the corners of is painted eyes. “Mommy~~”
“That's right, dolly...”
“M-Mommy~~~!”
“Kiss Mommy.” She leaned down, forward, engulfing. “Let me love you, my pet.”
He panted... mumbled something... then flew forward. His lips made the lightest, most feather-soft contact with Cadance's. He was like a strand of clouds collapsing against a mountainous plateau, and his insides instantly shattered upon impact. The supernova enveloped him, sprouting outward and downward from the kiss, carried on by the scent of her perfume as it crashed full-force against the girlish spritzes that he had been drenched in. Somewhere amidst that—baptized by Cadance's warm motherly sigh into his mouth—Flash detected that same baby powder innocence holding it all together. The foundation imploded, and before Flash knew it, everything was erupting through his once-dammed center—down into the holiest of holies—in frequent throbbing trickles of sugar sweet milk that brought out a bevy of pitiful cries and chirps from the fluffiest core of his being.
“Mmm—!” He yelped. Joy and pain. Shame and succulence. His thighs squeezed—but it was far too late. They only made things worse, drowning Tinkerbell in sissy euphoria. “Mmm-muh! Unf!”
“Ssssh-ssssh...” Cadance leaned back—if but for a second—before kissing him repeatedly on the mouth and nose, peppering his orgasmic cries with loving smooches that left thick stains of lipstick. “Don't hide it, sweetie. Don't hide how happy you are—”
“Uhhnhh!” Flash merely yelped, higher in pitch, his legs buckling more and more.
“Show me. Show everyone.” She grasped his trembling waist. “Lift your skirts. All of them~”
“Uhnnf! My... m-my—!”
“Do what Mommy tells you, my sweet pet.” Cadance was already hoisting up half of the petticoats for boy. Her smile was hungry. Flushed. Nearly satisfied. “Show how happy Mommy makes you, my dolly.”
“Muh... M-Mommy~~” He clutched his skirts in two dainty sets of fingers.
“Yes. Shhhh. Yes, that's right.”
“Mmmmm...” He hoisted all that he could, exposing his shiny green panties for all the gazing women in the room—along with the slowly spreading, undeniably sissy-soiled spot forming in the dead center of Tinkerbell's face, giving her a faintly milky complexion that only brought out her pastel smile. “Mmmm-mommmmy~~” Flash finally cooed, exposing his joyous release for everyone. As he exhaled—sweaty and spent from an insurmountable wave of pleasure and fulfillment—he could only beam with a dumb smile clinging to his pretty face. His tiara leaned a little crooked, but altogether the panting... panting boi looked perfectly perfect.
“Yes... that's right, my little princess...” Cadance leaned in and kissed his left ear, then his right. For a brief moment, the woman looked like she was going to burst into tears, but she turned it into an honest smile. “Goddess, I'm so glad the spell worked...”
“It did indeed...” Celestia cleared her throat, adjusting the collar of her blouse with a noticeable sheen of sweat. “So... I have to ask...” She looked towards Sunset and Twilight in particular. “...how can I go about pushing my spot in line forward?”
“Your spot?!” Luna barked, also looking noticeably flushed.
Twlight Sparkle shook her head. “Uh uh uh, ladies... that's not how the rules work. All of us came up with the spell. We're ahead of you.”
“Besides...” Sunset added with a wink. “...you gotta choose a vessel first.”
“Hmmm... yes...” Celestia nodded, nevertheless gazing at Cadance and her lewdly exposed pet. “I do suppose that's the hardest part.” She squinted back at Twilight. “What are you going to name him after the transformation anyways? Hmmm? 'Tender Spritz'?”
“Besides, I'm up next!” Rarity exclaimed with a victorious pose. “Rouge Muffin!! Here we come~~!!”
“Daisy Thimbleweed!” Applejack cheered. “Yeehaa!”
Pinkie Pie pumped an arm. “Candy Plumage!” A few of her friends blinked her way. She blinked back. “What?? You guys know 'em!”
In the meantime, Flash looked as though he was going to collapse. Albeit with a dreamy sigh.
Cadance gasped. She looked at the rest of the girls with a frightful expression. “How... h-h-how do I—?”
“Just be natural about it.” Applejack gestured. “He'll feel light as a feather.”
“Unf!” Cadance scooped Flash up. As he draped in her arms—still heaving from his sissy release—a tearful smile overwhelmed the former Dean of Crystal Prep. “Guhhh...!” She shook noticeably, but recovered by holding the young man close, snuggling him intensely. “Mmmmmmgoddesssss...” She peaked above his pixie blue hair, stealing an apologetic look at the girls. “Please. If... if she and I can have a moment alone together...?”
“Please do.” Sunset gestured towards the adjacent hallway. “She's all yours~!”
“I know. And... and th-thank you!” Cadance rushed out of the room, elegantly carrying her prize in the process. “Thank you soooooo much!”
“H-hey!” Pinkie Pie frowned, pointing at all of the shopping bags that Cadance and her friends had carried in. “But—what about all you shopped for?! I thought we were gonna play dress up with her!”
“We will! I-I promise! Just...” Cadance called back as she exited the room. “...I-I have to take things a b-bit slow! Check up on her first!”
“Remember the code words!” Sunset hollered after her.
Grunting slightly, Cadance firmly shut the door to her bedroom behind her. She breathed with slight relief, then finished bridal-carrying Flash to the large pink mattress. At first, she considered laying him down like the limp plaything he was... but the decided to just sit up in bed with the precious sissy cuddled in her arms. Her breaths came out in swift spurts as she slowly digested the reality of this moment.. and the exciting potential for endless moments to come.
As if awoken by her closeness—or perhaps her perfume—Flash finally... finally pierced through the afterglow of his sissy climax to speak. “Mmmmm... Mommy...~~?”
“Mmm... y-yes...” Cadance sniffled, smiling once more with scarcely-contained excitement. She took every moment she could to toy with his hair, the poofs of his dress, his petticoats and petticoats and petticoats. “Y-yes... my little pet...”
“I... I'm sorry...” He whimpered, looking up at her with dazed eyes. “...so s-sorry about the panties.”
“Huh?” Cadance rolled her eyes. She giggled like a schoolgirl then leaned down to give him several rapid kisses on the forehead, cheeks, and lips. “Ohhhhh sweetie...” She tapped his nose and smiled warmly. “There'll be plenty more where those came from.”
“I...” Flash clutched to her arms, staring up with unrestrained love and devotion. “...I-I can't...”
“Can't what, dolly?”
“Mommy~” he instinctively purred.
She winced. “Oh right. I-I have to say that sparingly.” She caressed his cheek. “What's the matter, Flashie?”
“I... can't remember... how or... wh-when...” He stammered.
“Yes. That...” Cadance nodded. “It... it takes a while before the spell fully kicks in. At least for the vessels, not so much for the rest of us girls.” She gulped. “I-I know you may not completely remember things now, but... last I heard... and last we talked—you completely agreed to everything, even after Sunset and Twilight explained it to you. You... you told me yourself—on several occasions—that being thrown into the pink waters, as t'were, was a long-standing fantasy of yours. I... I-I hope it wasn't distressing, my little princess...”
“Mmmmm... it...” Flash murmured, still drifting in a high cloud. “...it's so dreamy... so w-wonderful, Mommy.”
She giggled, sighed, and caressed his face with a loving gaze. “It's taken us several months to get here, Flashie. But... here we are.”
“I... d-don't remember...” Even as he said that, faint shadows of a rain-swept motel flickered through his mind. He imagined a twenty-two year old adult—tall and gaunt with calloused fingers—curled up on a made bed, wishing he could be smaller... precious...—wishing he could be this.
“That's okay, sweetie...” Cadance stroked his cheek, smiling with pure bedazzlement in her eyes as she drank his soft pastel form in. “It should come to you as the initial effects wear off. Until then...” She kissed his forehead. “...just enjoy the here and now, sweetie. Mmmkay?” She tickled his chin just above the choker. “I'm told it must feel absolutely blissful.”
He giggled.. then giggled some more. His hand clasped with hers, resting it against the choker. A flicker of joy ran up his heart as he finally realized whose name he bore on that pink lacy article. Fitting—because all he knew at the moment, and all he cared about—was the one person he belonged to. And in a flash of epiphany, the boi began remembering long conversations over the phone, online, and through wonderfully perfumed letters... before a series of discreet meetings led to him holding hands with hers and feeling this fabulous feminized future frolicking into reality.
“I feel...” He purred.
“Yes?” Cadance's eyes fluttered.
“I feel... … ...”
“Yes, Flashie?”
“... … ...so happy.”
Cadance sniffed back tears. She stroked his cheek yet again. “Enjoy it, my pet. You've been waiting a long time to feel true comfort.”
“Just... don't understand how I could be... h-how I could be—”
“Does it have to make sense, Flashie?” She cooed. “Don't fret over logic. Don't worry about things making sense. Right now you're here... you're beautiful... and I love you.” She kissed his forehead once again. “I'm so... so very glad to have a sissy pet of my own now.”
He smiled sweetly, kissing her hand every opportunity she got.
“Of course... as for discomfort...” She waggled her eyebrows. “Well... we'll deal with that slowly and in portions—like we all planned to... once your memory fully returns. Assuming you're still willing to play the part of a slut.”
Flash's pupils shrank. Instinctively, upon hearing that word, his lips purred in a sexy way: “Dadddddy~~” He blinked at himself.
Cadance blinked too. “Yes! Haha... well...” She squeezed his hands, winking suggestively. “He will be home from work the middle of the next week. Let's save the 's' word for when he's around, okay?”
Flash stared at her. Without triggering, her murmured, “Mommy?”
“Yes, Flashie?”
“... … ...I think Tinkerbell wants to play again.”
Cadance let loose a long, girlish laugh. She scooped him into a close hug, toppling over in the pink sheets. “Heeheehee—I bet she does!”
