Background Pony #CE8D
Content: Implied TG/TF
“You’re the one who said he wished he didn’t need a fursuit to show off at the brony convention,” Rob reminded his roommate. “Looks like you could stand to be more grateful. All I have to do is hit this button,” he said, lifting a slim electronic device that resembled an old-fashioned TV remote, “and you could get an attitude adjustment to make you a lot more agreeable.”
“Don’t you dare, Rob!” his victim said with sudden alarm.
“What are you going to do?” Rob taunted with a wicked smile, “take it from me?” he mocked her as he held the device out on an open palm.
The cream-colored unicorn girl glared at the man who had been her friend, determined to defy any hint of authority he tried to assert over her. She swiped her arm out to grab the remote control. Her hand stopped partway towards her goal, shaking as if colliding with an invisible wall of gelatin. Confused, she tried to force her way through the unseen barrier, visibly struggling to move her reaching fingers closer to the offered salvation. But her body refused to assent. She tried to snatch the remote with her other hand and was rebuffed by a similar sudden halting. Though she didn’t feel contact with anything against her hands, neither could she close the final six inches between them and the remote.
“Having trouble?” Rob snickered. He took the remote up between thumb and forefinger and dangled it before her eyes like a toy mouse in front of a cat. She grimaced and attempted to grab the remote again in its new position, failing utterly to bring her hands around it. She grunted with effort but was unable to overcome whatever was keeping her fingers from touching the device.
“It’s a failsafe,” Rob explained, still taunting her with the remote held loosely in his grip. “Anyone who gets transformed has one mental compulsion automatically implanted; they can’t touch the remote without verbal permission. Keeps the tables from being turned on me.”
“Don’t you dare, Rob!” his victim said with sudden alarm.
“What are you going to do?” Rob taunted with a wicked smile, “take it from me?” he mocked her as he held the device out on an open palm.
The cream-colored unicorn girl glared at the man who had been her friend, determined to defy any hint of authority he tried to assert over her. She swiped her arm out to grab the remote control. Her hand stopped partway towards her goal, shaking as if colliding with an invisible wall of gelatin. Confused, she tried to force her way through the unseen barrier, visibly struggling to move her reaching fingers closer to the offered salvation. But her body refused to assent. She tried to snatch the remote with her other hand and was rebuffed by a similar sudden halting. Though she didn’t feel contact with anything against her hands, neither could she close the final six inches between them and the remote.
“Having trouble?” Rob snickered. He took the remote up between thumb and forefinger and dangled it before her eyes like a toy mouse in front of a cat. She grimaced and attempted to grab the remote again in its new position, failing utterly to bring her hands around it. She grunted with effort but was unable to overcome whatever was keeping her fingers from touching the device.
“It’s a failsafe,” Rob explained, still taunting her with the remote held loosely in his grip. “Anyone who gets transformed has one mental compulsion automatically implanted; they can’t touch the remote without verbal permission. Keeps the tables from being turned on me.”
