“Now let’s get you finished, so that I can finally get to work!” She panted and giggled, slowly pulling herself from the bed and setting his cock on her bedside table, the cool flow of air around the room upon his still wet silicone shaft tantalizing his senses. The sun was fading into darkness outside now as the mare stepped around in front of him, leaning in close to lay a gentle kiss upon his snout before she began pulling the thread up along his neck once more.

His spine grew stiff, locking his head forward in place as his ears tightened and shifted, the thick fabric spreading up, over his scalp, but beneath his mane, which soon slid off like a wig. Rarity pulled that aside, setting it with the rest of his detached pieces, and pulling the needle through Mile’s lips, dutifully stitching them together as his mouth smoothed shut, jaw seizing up beneath the fabric.

He felt a bead of sweat roll down his brow as his eyes crossed, the mare gleefully holding the needle right in front of them before stitching up his nose. It was mere moments before the fabric shifted up and over his eyes, sending his vision into dim, beige fuzziness, as if he were looking through a sheet of thin cloth, eyes stuck facing forward. All shuddering movement within him ground to a halt as his body settled into inanimacy, all sound from the room muffled like his ears were crammed full of cotton. His mind roiled and swam, unbelieving, unsure just how to processes what Rarity had done to him.

He was trapped.

Trapped in his own inanimate body, nothing more than a mannequin, a tool for Rarity’s art.

“There we go.” She says with glee, as she patted the side of his rigid cheek, her magic already pulling out reams of fabric and pins for the ideas in her head, the ones she had gotten from his books.

“Now you’re mine.”