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Background Pony #BEAF
@Background Pony #BEAF
Yeah some of that is being addressed in the draft I have so far.
His mom isn’t anthro, just more of a MILF/OL mash-up. Outside of Creepy Boss, Alex is the only one who remembers him being Alex, which is why he got the revelation in private.
Alex isn’t fully in his original state of mind, there are growing influences he’s still got to recognize before even confronting. Things are going to start cropping up. There’s going to be some inkling when it’s time for the hookup, as well as the aftermath of his decision there. There’s a lot of moving parts to process and our poor boy is still working full-time. Getting together with his friends is going to distract AND challenge him. Plus, the streaming dream probably won’t be the only subconscious push, and that’s going to cause some problems he’ll have to digest.
About the pace, I’m not trying to drag my feet but also trying to do a slow burn; significant things happen each day, and they only start to form the whole picture once many pieces are on the table. There’s a lot to cover and only 20k characters per comment, plus we talked about almost a dozen more images that could fit in this narrative, if not more. In my mind we’re just getting to the halfway point. How’s that sound?

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Background Pony #BEAF
Part 12
Spoilered: suggestive, mind stuff, vulgar.
“You’re more quiet than usual today,” Ms. Alverson said as she drove her unicorn daughter to work. “Stay up too late?”
“Cramps,” Alex lied.
It was super uncomfortable when his unlocked memory let him realize his mom had come out of her meeting with Creepy Boss looking like an office bimbo. On the plus side, she didn’t say one word about the football helmets he was smuggling under his shirt this morning.
“Ah. Need to borrow some Mydol? Check my purse,” she offered.
That sparked an uncomfortable question internally, and Alex instead checked his own purse. An almost full box of Pompran was in one of the pockets. Apparently this shifty reality thought of everything, didn’t it? He was not looking forward to needing this stuff.
“No, I found some of my stuff. Guess I forgot I bought a new box last time.” Great, another ugly little chore he’d have to deal with until he found some way to change back into a guy. He almost blurted it out that secret history right then and there in the car. ‘Hey mom, I know you don’t remember, but I used to be your son until some hideous monster cocooned me and turned me into some rainbow-maned toy store thot, and ever since then my life has been a slippery slope of nightmares and brainwashing.’ Probably not something you wanted to drop in someone’s lap while they were behind the wheel, though. So he closed his eyes and sat miserably until they reached the mall.
Alex wobbled heavily as he went about setting up the store for business. A check with his underwear this morning showed he’d dramatically underestimated the new size of these breasts that jutted out from his torso like two extra heads; they were something beyond H and he hadn’t been able to squeeze them into any of his bras. He was able to loosen up the straps to one of his bikini tops and use that for now, but it offered almost nothing in the way of support or restraint beneath his shirt. He’d also chosen a baby tee that didn’t show off any cleavage, but the flip side was that it barely stretched past the curve of these ridiculous tits. Every time he bent over the register desk, it would risk showing a lot of underboob.
“Didn’ bother ya last night, did it?” Creepy Boss’s voice sounded out from behind him. Alex spun around in surprise, which was a bad idea; the momentum nearly twisted him back around until he braced himself against the arc of his own tits.
“What do you mean, sir?” he stammered. Ugh, that ‘sir’ thing was getting annoying.
Creepy Boss pointed to Alex’s neck. “Didn’ cause ya no ishoos, ey?”
“No… sir… ?” Alex answered, suspicious. How much did Creepy Boss know about that dream last night?
“Glad ta hear it. Ya won’ be needin’ it no more, then.” He snapped his toe-like fingers and Alex felt the light pressure around his neck suddenly release. A quick check verified that no collar or choker or anything was around it now. “Now ya still need ta be on yer Best Behavior, but leastways we won’ hafta worry ‘bout pottymouth in front o’ the wee tykes, will we?”
“No sir,” Alex replied. Oh crap, was he still calling this throwback ‘sir’ even without the choker censoring him? As soon as the bearded Sasquatch disappeared back into the dark depths of the shop, Alex did an experiment. Ass. Shit. Piss. Tits. “Bum. Crap. Weewee. Mommylumps.” Damn it, this is so fucked up! “Crud, this is so funked up!” he whined through the girly unicorn voice.
There were still some of the older guys hanging around from the previous couple of days in the morning, sometimes buying things just to talk to “her,” and Alex have to turn down the occasional date request. But he made sure to do it without foul language, even without letting his apparently ingrained workplace censor trigger. One thing he didn’t have control over was addressing them all as ‘sir,’ apparently. Whereas Lexi mostly appreciated the attention yesterday, Alex felt like he was a piece of meat surrounded by hungry lions. He’d hear them whispering about various aspects of the body he was trapped in and knew exactly what kind of conversations were going on, even if the details didn’t quite reach his big fluffy ears. Now he was hyper-aware of how his bust jiggled with almost every motion, how his generous hips shifted in their painted-on tight shorts when he took a step, pumping his butt up and down with it. Even his feet felt exposed, confined as they were to the high heels that accentuated his mostly bare legs. He was acutely aware of how slender and delicate his arms and hands looked now, even in comparison to some of the younger and smaller guys. Eventually they did get their fill, or had to keep other appointments, or whatever; slowly they filtered out and the store was empty just before Alex’s lunch break. Just in the nick of time, he thought; there was an invisible cloud of something in the store ever since those guys started shuffling in this morning, and he was getting tired of it filling his nostrils.
Selene and Darius were waiting in the food court. Alex suddenly felt even more exposed, as if he was wearing a stupid costume out in public and saying the wrong thing would let them recognize who he really was underneath it. But they’d already seen him, so he couldn’t just back out. Anxiously, he walked over to the bench where they were sitting. They scooted apart and motioned for him to sit between them. He felt like a space heater as he nestled in, blushing, nervous to even touch them. But Darius immediately gave him a friendly shoulder-hug and Selene wrapped her arms around his pinched-in waist, snuggling up affectionately. Alex smelled whatever was in the store again, for some reason. It almost distracted him from answering the questions he was being peppered with. How’s it going? Oh, y’know; retail always sucks. Why was (s)he so quiet yesterday in the chat? Oh, just had a long day at work, that’s all. Seemed kind of nervous today? Ah, just kind of anxious about the upcoming sleepover at the Kingstons’ mansion. (Oh yeah, that. Hahaha, fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck) Darius suggested they get something to eat; hey look, smoothies. Oat milk for mine, please, extra wheatgrass powder.
As they hung out and chatted, Alex started to relax a little. There was something de-stressing about being around Darius, his oldest and closest friend. Selene was charming and cute. By the time they finished smoothies, Alex was even chuckling and sharing a few old stories; mostly confirming what Darius had already told Selene. Then Alex tried to excuse himself; needed some girl things. Selene offered to come with and Darius said he’d gladly come along to pick up the tab and hold their things for them. But Selene wisely forbade him and simply borrowed one of his credit cards to cover their costs, then took Alex by the hand and practically led him to the nearest plus-sized clothing store.
Unfortunately, after a fitting (Alex’s brain: don’t get aroused, don’t get aroused, don’t get aroused, stop getting aroused!) it seemed the store didn’t carry anything in his new size. Asking around, neither did any of the other places in the mall, and none could recommend one in town. It wasn’t the huge lumps of fatty tissue that were the problem, it was Alex’s absolutely disproportionate band size. Try finding anything higher than EE/F in a size 28. Selene had the only good solution; they’d take ‘Lexi’ back to Darius’s house today and she’d put in some special orders. Seemingly out of options, Alex was forced to agree; he sent his mom a text about the alternate ride plans and hoped nothing else would go wrong today. By this time lunch was fast running out, so the three went back to the toy store where Alex got an enthusiastic hug from the smaller pixie goth and gave Darius a hearty bro-punch before waving them off.
After lunch was mostly quiet, then the typical after school chaos as the vile hell-mouth that tarted itself up in toy store drag was once again treated like a nursery for shopping parents. Alex broke up two fights, kicked a serial pincher out of the store, and had to stop three different instances of merchandise being opened before purchase. It was a welcome break from having the store full of young men focused on his female figure, though. Thankfully, nothing else seemed to happen to morph his body or wash his brain; locking up felt like dodging a bullet as Alex strutted out to meet up with his friends in the parking lot.
Darius was driving an imported crossover SUV, and Selene insisted they share the back seat during their ride to the estate. Alex had to admit, he was actually expecting a limo. But Darius said that the chauffeur worked strictly under Mr. Kingston and wasn’t the family’s pet cabby. He’d also be getting paid leave when Darius’s father left on his cruise in a couple of days, so if they wanted to go places then Darius or Selene would have to drive. Alex felt like a kid getting held back a grade for still not having a license, but the other two tried to convince him it wasn’t a big deal. Darius said that when he’d travelled to Europe he found the roads so narrow in most places that it was more practical to higher a local driver than attempt to fit in with the locals; besides, not all places would respect a US license for the duration of an entire semester.
Alex remarked how weird it was that Darius was the one that went to college and was now enthusiastic about his graduate program; back in boarding school they’d always assumed he’d run off from his strict and imposing family life to join a circus, or something. Darius agreed, but said he was enjoying college so much more than the stifling primary and secondary schools he’d been forced through and was actually finding independence a life-changing experience. The only requirements his father put on him to continue supporting him were that he play collegiate basketball (family tradition), he settle on a major, and that he not make the Kingston name thoroughly unwelcome; other than that, he was urged to find his own way in the world now. There wasn’t even any pressure to move out and be self-sufficient; his father’d broken the Kingston tradition of setting excruciating expectations on their children since he’d been forced to live under them himself and saw how damaging it was. As long as Darius just generally did well and didn’t get in trouble with the law, he was welcome to live in the mansion full-time indefinitely.
“See, when grandpa died dad took a long look at the way his father was with him and said, ‘Nope. That’s not going to happen with me and my son.’ He realized that our family has the kind of wealth that can’t just ‘go away’ in a generation or two without some serious fuckery, and he figured the best way to avoid that was to keep his kid well-adjusted. What was the point of having all this money if he was just going to hold it up like a brass ring for the rest of his family to reach through him to get? He’d rather lavish it on us so we could pursue our own paths with security, provided we didn’t abuse it and turn into rich little shits,” he explained.
“How is your dear sister doing, these days?” Selene said, taking a bite of the hook.
“Pshhh, hell if I know. She’s too good for us now that she’s got a quarterback for an emotional support piggybank,” Darius said. “Hope dude’s smart enough to hold onto it. A lot of pro athletes, they literally don’t know what to do with their money so they can’t even hang onto it for long.”
“So when they get hung out to try, you see ‘em pushing reverse mortgages for a few bucks in residuals,” Alex pointed out.
“Yeah. It’s real sad, too. They get their bodies torn up, a lot of them get subtle cranial injuries, and they get a ton of parasites hanging onto ‘em their whole lives, all because they wanted to play ball,” Darius mused.
“Not like us, babe,” Selene said, “I consider myself more of a remora than a parasite. Just hanging around, picking off some crumbs to keep you from getting bogged down,” she giggled.
“How good are you as swimming upside down under a shark?” Darius asked with a smile. They were approaching the gate now. Selene turned to Alex and explained.
“I’m living with Darius and his dad is not only good about it, he let me take over one of the empty rooms as my craft cave. That’s where you and I are going.”
“Oh? What kind of crafts?” Alex asked.
“Little bit of everything. Sewing, sculpting, some watercolor when I remember where I put my notebook.”
“Sewing, eh?” Alex said. He felt a nervous foreboding and tried to hide it behind some levity. “Are you volunteering to be my seamstress?”
“Are you volunteering to be my little guinea pig?” she smirked. If Alex still had a dick it’d be tenting his pants from the way she asked. As it was, he hoped Selene didn’t quite catch onto his female body’s reaction. Something tickled her nose; it reminded her of the smell that had filled up the toy store.
Alex hated climbing all the stairs to get to Selene’s room, and not just because of the workout it put his legs through. Each step reminded him of how much more flesh there was, front and back. The house was very large, but not exactly sprawling. It had wings, and most of the the rooms on the upper floor were strictly residential with a couple dedicated to leisure. Selene guided him to the right (the ‘east’ wing) and into what looked like a small space that used to be an office. Lining the walls were all kinds of storage shelves and organizers, filled with colorful boxes or packets of various crafting materials and tools. There were some blank shirts hanging over a section dedicated to clothing customization, there was an ‘idea’ board, one corner had an easel with sketching paper and the opposite corner had a few sewing dummies and even a full-sized mannequin.
“Whoa,” Alex let slip. “You don’t mess around.”
“Heehee, only with permission!” Selene smirked. “Oh, check this out!” she said, whipping out her phone and tapping to bring up an app. The white light in the room took on a pinkish-purple hue as she adjusted the color remotely. “Perfect for experimenting with different looks!” she beamed. “Charcoal may be my baseline, but the entire color wheel is my bitch, baby!” she said as she closed the door, revealing a full-sized mirror on the back of it. Lexi glanced up and noticed another panel of mirrored glass on the ceiling above the doorway, showing the petite goth hanging upside down like a hungry spider. “Okay, girl,” she said as she crossed the room and picked up a yellow measuring tape. “Let’s get some numbers.”
“You know, I have a crazy idea,” Selene said as she reviewed the in-depth full body measurements while Alex tugged his bikini top back into place and reached for the shirt that hung from the easel. He heard Selene opening up a closet and rummaging for a bit. After covering his recently scrutinized female figure, Alex turned to see the gothy artist take two foam wig dummies over to a standing desk. Pulling out a shallow drawer, she produced what looked like one of those electric carving knives and plugged it in. Then she quickly separated the foam skulls from their foam necks, threw the latter into a nearby trash bin, then went around the perimeter of the room gathering little bits and bobs. She then took four thumb tacks from the idea board and shoved one each into the bottom of the foam heads, about where the tongue would have been at the back of the “jaw.” Then she made little loops of string and pushed the other two tacks into the shoulders of her dress form (what she called the sewing dummies). Securing the string loops into the tacks embedded in the foam heads, she then hung them from the shoulder tacks on the dress form.
“Ta-dah!” she cheered, moving to one side to show Alex the result. The beige, headless, armless, legless dress form now had two blank, head-sized projections hanging off it like Christmas ornaments. Alex didn’t know if he should be impressed or horrified, but ‘impressed’ was winning out. This girl really was crafty after all. Selene took her tape and her notepad, then did some fine-tuning of the fake bust until she was satisfied with the way they hung. “These’ll come in handy later,” she giggled as she poked the stiff, egg-like foam tits.
“Now let’s find you some off-the-rack for that off-the-hook rack,” she snickered, leading Alex over to a nearby computer. She brought up a few websites and entered Alex’s particulars into several of them, returning a limited selection of search results in-stock across a handful of specialist sellers. Some where very utilitarian, and others decidedly more visually-oriented. Alex pointed to a few of the modest ones that looked the most supportive. To his surprise, Selene put two of each one into the various carts across every site. “Having a rich boyfriend has its perks!” she explained, pulling Darius’s credit card out of her pocket. “Since we couldn’t find anything brick-and-mortar,” she said. “It’s not like we don’t have permission. We were supposed to get you some new stuff, after all.” Alex’s eyes still went wide when he saw the in-cart totals, and he even protested when Selene splurged on the over-night shipping options. “Girl, you need these pronto. We can’t have you high-beaming those kids at the store, can we? Besides, it’s not like we’re going to spend poor Darius out of house and home,” she pointed out. Alex relented and allowed Selene to spend more than his last paycheck just on the bras and their delivery.
“Thanks, I really owe you,” he said sheepishly.
“Nah, what are friends for?” the gothic crafter replied. Then she stood up, looked Alex in the eye, and pulled her into a tight embrace, mashing herself past the two huge sacks of shame as if to hug Alex into herself. He was stunned, but eventually allowed himself to wrap his own hands around her shoulders in return. Selene nuzzled his neck approvingly. “I’m so glad you turned out to be cool,” she whispered. “You don’t even know. Darius was right about you.” Hot tears started budding up from Alex’s eyelids, threatening to spill down his incandescent cheeks and onto the bare neck of the girl who was so enamored with him. A now familiar scent tickled Alex’s nostrils, causing him to sniffle. It seemed to be radiating off the girl hugging him… rising up like invisible steam from her exposed skin.
Selene pulled back in her hug just enough to look into Lexi’s eyes. “Hey, no tears allowed.” She tilted her face and closed in, kissing Alex on the cheek just as it started to run.

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