>you're home.
>open the door, close it.
>lock it.
>go into the living room to clean up the dish.
>you pick up the old toaster pastry you didn't have for breakfast and begin eating.
>to your mild worry, Chrysalis crawls off of your nose and goes prone on the nail of your right middle finger.
>she appears strangely curious about the food item.
>"Is this some kind of... ration?" she asks, knocking on the pastry like a piece of plywood as you chew.
"Iss a pop dart."
>you hear a small grunt from your left pocket.
>looking down, you find that you've forgotten to remove Celestia from your jacket.
>with your left hand, you quickly wipe the crumbs from your mouth and reach towards Celestia to pull her from the pocket.
>using your pinky-finger as a lever, she pulls herself into your hand.
>she's changed again.
>now she's wearing a long white fur coat and winter boots by the looks of it.
>is she really that cold?
>she stands up and sighs.
>"Front pocket's a bit uncomfortable without resizing, I don't recommend it."
>resizing.
>that's another thing you're curious about.
>"I didn't mind it all that much," you hear Luna reply.
>your eyes dart over to your right pocket. Luna's sitting on the lip of it, which causes it to dip ever-so-slightly downward.
>you begin to move your left hand over to Luna, but she gestures for you to stop.
>"I'm fine over here for the moment."
"Suit yourself."
>you place Celestia on the coffee table.
>she dangles off a bit before hopping down.
>you move Chrysalis over by the plate.
>she doesn't move. Instead, she looks up at you with a quizzical expression.
>"Is something the matter?"
"Do you want to get off?"
>"I don't see any problems with this ground at the moment."
>she reaches down to the pastry you haven't let go of and scrapes up a few flakes of processed bread-like stuff.
>"Why do you eat things like this? It sounds like... boulders."
"I bought it a long time ago, it's gone stale."
>she scoffs and rests her head.
>your pastry changes hands and you reach over to put it on the plate.
>Celestia sidesteps the payload slightly and takes a seat on the edge of the dish.
>you move your hand back over to Chrysalis, who looks up at it with suspicion.
>carefully, you pluck her off your finger, holding her up by her stomach between your left thumb and forefinger.
>this surprises her.
>she easily slips out from between your fingers and scuttles into the webbing.
>she glares at you.
>"I could have moved if you'd only asked."
"I'm sorry, I'm still not patient with this sort of thing."
>Luna hops down from your pocket and lands on your right leg.
>"He did mention that spontaneous arrivals like ours don't happen often," she says.
>Chrysalis sighs, and climbs back up to the tip of your forefinger, balancing dramatically on one leg for whatever reason.
>naturally you've moved your hand closer to your face again.
>she takes advantage of this by grabbing one of your eyelashes and hanging off of it like a tightrope walker.
>hanging to it with her legs, she spreads her arms out and shouts, "Ta-daaa!"
>you find yourself unable to make sense of this.
>Chrysalis grows irritated.
>"No laughter? No amusement?" she growls. "What on earth is going to get you to be pleasant?"
>Christ, you forgot about that.
>she eats emotions.
>if you're your normal buzzkill-self, you might cause the poor girl to starve.
>thinking quickly, you drag your hand back into the narrative for what most certainly won't be the last time in an effort to do the thing you had dreamed of for all the years such an idea had existed.
>you're going to rub dat wittle buggy abdomen.
>your right thumb ever-so-gently slides Chrysalis off of your eyelash.
>her hands immediately fly back to secure herself to the phalange.
>you turn your thumb over, and summon your left forefinger.
>she looks on in confusion as it descends to touch her stomach.
>"Anonymous?"
"I'm doing this for you," you mutter.
>Luna and Celestia look upon this strange sight with great expression.
>whether they're horrified, disgusted, or amazed, you aren't sure.
>you begin the rubbing.
>Chrysalis begins stretching out.
>with enough change, any creature will respond to this like a cat.
>you fear this isn't going to do you much good as far as taking your guests seriously, but nonetheless it has to be done.
>it repeats in a cycle- chest, stomach, thigh, thigh, stomach, chest, stomach, thigh, thigh, stomach, chest, and so on.
>it is admittedly difficult to tell what parts of her you're caressing at the moment, but you seem to be doing a good job.
>she's started giggling.
>you can more or less understand why abdominal caresses are so pleasant, really.
>The inner thigh always seems to be the most tender and untouched part of the process from your experience.
>the stomach always does that weird jolt thing when it's scratched the right way in the right place.
>you study this shit. Only a total lunatic would go into this blind.
>she's laughing now.
>overdubbed, wicked, adorable laughter.
>hopefully this means she's stuffed now.
>just as you inch your finger backwards, her arms shoot up and cling to it.
>you don't think she's happy enough.
>you'll teach her to be happy
>you'll teach her grandma to suck eggs.
>the rubbing continues at a grueling pace that would cause the strongest oxen to grow sick on the Oregon trail.
>Chrysalis' laughter resonates in your ears, and you notice she's actually getting smaller as you rub her.
>your fingertip now completely blocks her from view.
>you can only barely hear her squeak, "Enough!" through gasps of air.
>horrified, you remove your left forefinger with Chrysalis still clinging to it.
>barely two millimeters in length, she playfully kicks her legs as she looks up at you with her arms folded under her chest.
>her elbows fit inside your fingerprints.
"Oh god..." you whisper.
>"Thanks!" you hear the speck cry. "Don't worry, it's just pleasure!"