My Girl

I had followed the Cat-girl from the first bed room, through the hall and into the next room. The door had clicked behind me, leaving me alone with the Neko for a moment.

In the middle of the room, I notice a large cubical. The walls are made of inch thick plexi glass. The inner walls had inch thick clear rubber glued permanently into place. Of course, three walls and the ceiling is in place already. On second thought, the cube is ten feet on each side.

“How about you wait for her, in the cubicle?” Neko explains, and I follow her in with a nod of ascent.

The crystal clear rubber is so stiff, I don’t even realize it at first. Just as I stand in the middle of the cube, she is producing a tube of clear gel, nodding at me, as she is directing me to spread my legs as I stand where she had been directed to have me. She applies a thin seam of clear, glistering and very slippery gel along the outer rim of my hooves with a purring giggle.

“If you place your fore-hooves on the floor, and I will let her know you are ready!” she instructs me and I comply.

She applies a seam of gel at the front of each hoof, before she is applying it along the outer rim of the hooves. With that, she had me stuck on the surface of the clear rubber on which I am standing.

“Compliment of the house!” she purrs, as she is slipping in a clear tube into my rear orifice.

“Oh! Thank you, Neko!” I respond.

“Now I will let her know we are here!” she purrs, as she turns around, towards the door and walks out, quietly.

She had opened the door and stepped out, closed and was gone. There had been the click as the door opened and closed, but that is just about that.

What I had not been prepared for, is what was to come next. Two little fillies trotted into the cubicle in which I stand on all fours. Maybe I should have expected their voices, the way they are. The whispering neighs, much like my voice.

“Hi, Mum!” the black little filly neighs, excitedly as she is trotting into the cubicle from behind.

“Hi, Mum!” the silicon white filly echoes an instant later.

Of course, they had to be fillies. Naturally, I am the mother to them, readily serving them the next meal. Fillies require food, and since I am serving, there is but the one way to do it.

“No wonder they see me as their mother, if I am the only mare in the room! Is this why Neko was polishing my hooves so carefully?” I ponder.

Slowly, quietly, they take the final steps over the clear rubber under their tiny little hooves, to where I stand. I see them moving forwards, towards me. For a moment, they stop, nuzzling me; before they trot over to my chest and seek out what, they had come for. Finding my nipples were never much of a challenge, not as large as they are.

“Ooh! There it is!” they exclaim in unison, as if with one voice.

“Of course!” I ponder, quietly.

The next moment, I feel them licking the respective nipple on their side and pressing their lips onto the nipple. From there, they slowly press on until they have the entire nipple in their mouth, give it a tentative tug and lick it for a moment, before sucking.

“Oooh!” I exclaim; in surprise and excitement, as the sensations hit home.

I feel a new tug to the right or left nipple every other moment, or so. There is a warm, electric tingle from my nipples and I feel milk squirting into their mouths. They swallow each and every squirt, with joy.

With each tug and squirt, something is changing within me, and within my nipples. It isn’t just squirts of milk, feeding the little fillies. It isn’t just the warmth and joy I feel in feeding them and the pleasure induced by them as they tease my nipples. There is something more, something more profound and deeper, changing.

I had not seen a clock, and I had not counted the tugs and squirts. Why bother? Time is irrelevant in the moment of joy and bliss in which I had just found myself. They drink their fill and please me in the process.

In the end, they have all they need and let go of me, my nipples. Now I see them trot out of the cubicle to have a moment of rest, before they turn back to playing around. They had found rest, just outside and before me. I can see them in plan view as they rest, side by side, black and white little filly.

Something hit me, as I notice how the warm tingling sensation in my nipples just refuse to let go of me. As if it had been bent to tease the living hell out of me. Standing still, I just can’t quite escape it. Why would I want to?

When I try to lift my right fore-hoof, I notice that it refuses to let go of the floor. I feel the rubber stretching more and more with ever increasing resistance as I keep going. The rubber is holding me down, stretching and pulling at the hoof. As I try to part what was to pass for fingers, I notice that I can’t. While I can move the thumb, but the hoof insistently stay as if it had never been a cloven hoof in the first place. There is no sense of resistance or stretching; just an insistent and utter refusal of even recognize a possibility to even perform an attempt.

For a moment, I had tried to lift my right fore-hoof, and then I had tried to lift my left fore-hoof, but to no avail. I had only got the stretching sensation as I pull the hoof up, while the floor is still stuck under my hoof.

I tried to lift my right hind hoof, then the left one, but with exactly the same result. Nothing more than that the rubber is stretching a few inches.

“Interesting!” I think; “Maybe I can have an exercise and work up a good sweat?” I continue, lifting up a hoof at the time.

The first, is just lifting one hoof at the time; almost like walking, only on all fours. It ended up hilarious, an exercise to me. Maybe it is because I had not expected to be an Equine; a Pony and exercise?

After a minute, I stop; then I start trotting. The rubber under my hooves still refuse to let go, but eagerly stretch with the same persistent effect of resistance as before. After a few minutes more, I had found myself breathing open mouthed. This is certainly challenging enough.

As much effort as I may put into it, there is no getting off of the floor, not as much as a single hoof. Not for a moment.

From time to time, I see my foals playing around in my field of view and I take great joy in it. I am not alone or forgotten. I can see them, even if they are utterly absorbed within the play world they are in right now. They will be back in the cubicle with me, when they get hungry and feel the urge to have more of my milk.

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