TheArchitect
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EC III-XII: Out Of Shape Extended
🕑 Added 2024-10-14 05:00:05 +0000 UTC
A female jockey isn’t as rare now as it was before, but they would rarely meet each other within the same race. It was, therefore, understandable that Elise felt like a lone warrior at times. It was also what motivated her, fueling her competitive spirit. Last season, however, wasn’t very successful, and she had to take a break and bring herself to a better shape before she would enlist herself to new mounts.
The outfit arrived in a tall white box with no markings. Blouse, leggings, jacket, boots and even a helmet, all brand new, of highest quality and her size. Elise knew there had to be more to it, and pieced it together upon finding the remote. It was Enchanted, the entire set. She knew how risky it could be to use, but with her current struggles taking a toll on her finances, it would be even more insane to turn it down.
Riding a horse for a living was a life full of danger already, so Elise didn’t stand around for much longer and moved straight to donning. The leggings were both soft on her skin and strict in terms of pushing her thigh muscles up and into shape. They wouldn’t be rubbing her crotch, but this feeling of being upheld right below... It was stimulating in a way.
And that was before the back laces were done. Pulling the ends was weirdly similar to starting an outboard motor, as the sides connected with laces almost whirred together. The dense material’s hold extended all the way up to Elise’s waist, and the sensation was something to get used to.
Astonished by the quality and the criminally perfect fit, Elise continued. Next, there was a jacket — no, a tailcoat! As soon as the last button was through its hole, she felt her back being persuaded into straightness. Her long-sleeved hands brushed over seemingly woolen surface under her accentuated shoulder blades, leaving her to guess if this relatively thin layer had more to it than met the eye. The tails were quite rigid. Elise was not sure if the horse was going to be fond of them, but she sure was.
Shiny black knee high boots were up in line. She stepped in and zipped them up. Remarkable was their lightness, compared to how both leggings and tailcoat were way heavier than normal. It was an important factor if she were to ever ride wearing this, which was far from guaranteed. Just walking around her flat was already way too interesting.
Elise sat down to take off the boots, but was pulled out of her haze when the zipper just wasn’t there, and the buttons of her tailcoat wouldn’t go back through their holes as they were supposed to. “Mm!” — the horserider reached for the remote and pushed the button, reverting the outfit back to normal.
* * *
Being out of the new outfit was rough. Everything else Elise wore, the first thing to notice would be how inferior the fit was, and the second one would be how much more fun could she have doing the same exercises while wearing her new acquiration. She was hooked, addicted beyond recovery already — every hour out was poisoned by the dragging feel of separation from something that was, for once, really hers, made for her specifically, if only as an attempt to trap her and make her succumb to her desires. Elise didn’t have it in her to resist for much longer.
As soon as she was home again, she allowed her legs to drown in these encompassing white leggings. Then the tailcoat, then boots. This time, the helmet went on as well, fixing itself steady onto and under her lower jaw. Thinking of where to go with this, she remebered the Pembertons’ stables, the good times she had there. Of course, they didn’t necessarily invite her for today, but she couldn’t imagine them being too mad...
* * *
Elise stood in front of the gates that were left unlocked. She noticed that her heels weren’t touching the ground. Again. After a few different first changes to the outfit, now it was this one several times in a row, as if her subconsiousness has made up its mind, focusing on a certain fantasy. And every time, the girl would put it right back, pressing the button.
She tried taping it down to remove the need for this hassle, but the wicked mind behind the design had thought of that, making the button stop working five seconds after the scale would hit the bottom and requiring an additional push for the next time. Elise’s wish to keep her attire as it was to avoid complications was intentionally rigged towards complications, and it was way too late to act like the cursed box never appeared at all.
Elise went through. She had a rough plan to try riding one of the familiar horses, but not beyond that. Some of the staff might have seen her going into the stables from afar, but none reacted, so it must have been fine. Initially seeking to try her luck with an already saddled animal, the girl opened an empty stall instead before catching herself.
A spike in her heartbeat was followed by a ramming sensation orchestrated by her leggings. It almost threw her off balance. She rushed inside and closed the stall to recompose herself, but ended up pushing herself to recognize the issue at hand. An internet image of someone dressed up in shiny stuff with close resemblance to... hmm...yes...
The scale wasn’t all that high yet, the remote was right there and she wasn’t likely to be discovered unless she was somehow noisier than the neighboring horses. So she decided to explore the fantasy a little bit, beginning with the gag bit swiftly sliding beyond her teeth, becoming an organic part of the helmet.
Her heels left the floor and kept moving away, and the soles of the boots kept arching up, but, even as the platform began mounting under her toes, no physical heel ever appeared. Instead, the platform gained in weight and obtained a metal shoe, and the soles stiffened enough to not require any ‘traditional’ heels at all.
Extra straps began forming over her entire body, and the tailcoat-leggings ensemble began losing its original shape and melting into something more egregiously skin-tight and shiny. Reflecting over new straps tightening over her crotch, Elise missed the point when her hands got involved, being sucked into hoof-mitts. She noticed only when the remote she could no longer hold hit the floor, its scale approaching the point of no return with spine-chilling speed.
She leapt to the floor to push the button, but the accuracy of her heavy hooves was imperfect. The steel horseshoe went around the remote perfectly, and the button was unpressed in this crucial moment.
“Activation commencing.” — Elise screamed in denial that was quickly overran by savagely strong orgasmic force eternalizing the fantasy that the ponygirl briefly elected to chase. Tails of her coat were now a single tail to plug her butt, and every part of the suit merged together and into a single heavy layer of latex. It took her last pieces of resolve to keep the formed blinders from closing over her eyes forever and resort to limiting her side view.
For better or for worse, Elise ran to the stall gate to be noticed, as her gag prevented being heard. As long as she was inside the Activated ponysuit, her jockey career could not continue, but maybe the rich, benevolent Pembertons could figure something out? Surely, they could?
