Title:           Goldie oneshot smut
Author:          DavidMarx
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/XjRzETuN
First Edit:      Monday 6th of July 2015 07:26:43 AM CDT
Last Edit:       Monday 6th of July 2015 07:26:43 AM CDT

>The door chimes a sweet tune as it swings open, giving way to the elaborate cafe behind it. You step through, allowing it to swing closed on its own. It however does not close with the gentle grace reflected in the rest of the establishment and instead slams shut, startling you.
>The sound you make gathers the attention of a variety of ponies around inside the shop. From the maid servers to the patrons seated near the door. All of them respond to the loud, girlish eep you emitted.
>A rather hunky fellow a couple of tables away whistles in response, no doubt causing your face blush even more. One of the servers approaches you carefully. Before looking you up and down and asking,
>"Is there, something I can help you with?"
>As far as you can tell, the maids here are much more regal than you've managed to pull off. Afterall, they probably have an actual designer which styles their clothes, rather than 12-bit nightmare night outfit you've thrown together.
>However it does seem as though your attempt to impersonate the staff here has at least earned you an audience with one of them, so you reply,
"I-I'm here to try out for a position as one o-of your maids."
>Your tone cracks a bit but you manage to pull off your best - and passable by a large degree - female voice.
>She considers your offer for a moment before turning and fetching one of the other maids, who appears to be much more regarded by the rest of the staff here.
>They both return bearing a clipboard.
>"Here, take a seat and fill these out. I'll be behind the counter, bring that back once you're finished."
>Instructs the the second mare, passing the clipboard and a pen to your outstretch hoof. You take the utensils and settle yourself down into an un-occupied table to fill it out.
>Staring down at the page before you, you can tell that the questions are fairly standard at first. Name (Goldie), birthday, etc. but once the first page has been filled out and you turn it over to reveal the next, you can tell that the questions become more, personal. Cup size starts off the list, then sexual preference, number of past intimate relationships, the list goes on. However you've heard amazing stories about working here so you do your best to make up numbers which seem plausible for a mare of your age.
>After that second page you're done. So you trot over to the mare and hand her the clip board back. She looks it over, then asks you to follow her into the back rooms. You are lead past the kitchens and stop by the changing rooms. Nervousness takes over as you start to eye the particular garments made available to the employees of this establishment. The mare who lead you orders you to get into one of the changing rooms, giving you a set of attire suitable for your dimensions. You shuffle inside, shaking but still capable of pulling off your voice in order to respond.
>Within the cramped confines of the changing room, you start to undress. Taking off your prior outfit to reveal your naked frail stallion body beneath. The clothing she expects you to wear hangs intimidatingly above you on the coat hanger. Its many frills and laced hems daring you to wear it. A feeling of submissive pleasure boils up in your gut. The foreseen embarrassment of wearing the thing excites you. So you make no hesitation in putting it on.
>Once fully decked-out in maid wear you gather up your previous attempt at maiding and take a moment to compose yourself. The panties included with the outfit keeping your stallion-parts in check although they are a bit tight. Glancing into the mirror and you find that they have managed to accentuate your ass quite well. Albeit there is a slight bulge.
>Upon opening the door you find a similarly adorned mare waiting for you.
>"I was about to ask if you needed assistance. Now that you're done lets get you, umm, inspected."
>Your knees give a little wobble as you step beside her, something about the way she said those last few words have made you uneasy.
>She leads you out of the hallway to another set of clothing caches. This one however much less orderly. You realize that this is where the employees keep their regular clothing while they're working. This theory is backed up by both the hanger you're offered to hang your old clothes on, and the explanation given by the mare. She leads you along into the kitchen area, then a break room and finally a private office, currently unoccupied but furnished quite well. She leaves you there, mentioning,
>"The head mistress will see you shortly. Please do keep the carpets clean."
>As she scurries out, closing the door behind her. In this office there are no windows, all the light is provided by a desk lamp and the small glass dome light on the ceiling. They both emit a warm color matching walls and furniture. Both of which seem to be a similar shade of wood. With the walls paneled slightly darker than the desk and two chairs perched in front. A larger, redder chair sits behind the desk.
>There are a couple paintings hung around the room, most of which depict a maid either working or posing seductively. All of the paintings make good use of simple grays and browns to depict their subjects. Also, you notice that the flanks of the ponies are always clearly visible yet not too vulgar or revealing, just attractive.
>The silence of the room is broken by the creak of the door behind you swinging open. You turn awkwardly, trying to keep from exposing your rear to the pony entering. The mare unicorn steps inside, revealing her luxurious auburn mane and black rimmed glasses. A rush of nervous shivers rumble through your body as your gaze settles on the violet and black box she holds aloft between herself and you.
>She places the box down, picking up the clipboard laid on top and holds it in front of her. You recognize it as your application.
>"It says here your name is 'Goldie', is that correct?" She peers up from the paper questioningly.
"Y-yes." You manage to stamper out, unconsciously crossing your forelegs protectively.
>"Now you said that you'd like to start as soon as possible. We do have a position available at the moment which would suit you. Although we'll have to perform your inspection today. Which..." She flips to a different page, "...you said would be fine. Are you still up for it?"
>Her expression is a combination of concerned and quizzical. Your confidence returns and you reply with a resounding yes.
>"Okay then. I'm going to have to ask that you relax while we do this. Bur first, please stand straight up and don't move."
>The inspector places the clipboard down beside her as she opens the box with magic. You attempt to peer into the box but she closes it after pulling out a strip of measuring tape. She approaches you with the tape, lifting the clipboard beside her, and begins to measure your extremities starting with your head, then neck, chest, back, stomach, rear, and all four legs. Ordering you to move around as she does, to achieve the best results.