"What's this," you grumbled, taking hold of a quite weighty as furry costume.
"Put it on, and I want you to wear it for today at least," Kim says with a very authoritarian manner.
As you stand there holding it up equal with the top of your head, a quick look at the costume suggests of an almost real, as neat costume. Spreading you hold of it, you recognize it as being as a cute Shetland pony. “How about this, a furry pony, should make a big bang for any kids coming into the store!"
You see Kim watching your every action, and she acting with some reluctant concerns about you and your novice attitude about what is, or is not cute when considering a costume. She plucked another costume from off a round floor-standing rack, giving it a look and then you a stare, as you see her holding a satyr costume.
Kim stood there holding it, she looking at it and then at you, sizing up what she might suggest was the better outfit.
You then stopped your admiring of the pony costume and watch what Kim is looking at about the satyr skin she was holding. The satyr costume looks more like an expandable fur laden second skin, it is neat and has highly detailed leggings. You note of seeing the way it had draw-straps, that would adjust to anyone trying to get it on, no matter if they be thin or fat.
A quick gaze around you being ready to step inside the changing room, seeing it, as the inside looked like a barn stall; certainly not something you might expect to see in a swank downtown shop.
A sign posted inside the changing room suggest the costumes fit best if not worn over other clothing. That notice read and you begin a quick remove of everything as clothing, you natural mother taught sense of personal modesty sparks the thinking to leave on underwear, or did until notating a paper tag pinned on the neckline; it stating that a wearer must heed the specified direction for donning and wearing any costume.
"How odd," you tend to think, “As strange that the local health department would allow the reuse of a costume after worn by someone not wearing anything under, or to protect the costume after some one night fling.”
"You getting ready yet," Kim said loudly, she then having taken up a stance on one tall pedestal overlooking the entire shop.
Taking a seat on what really looked and felt like plank board rough sawn, showing needle like slivers, and you sighed, looking around the small room, there on a corner shelf set several Mason jars, the label on them had the name of the company that made the stuff, “Lasso, Halter, & Nose Ring Apothecary.”
Standing up to give the labeled jars a reading; it offered a user of their product an increased easy slip-on when applied to the bare skin before use of any costume, or the cloaking with an animal skin.
You ponder the use of the salve, as if the affect might be worth the time to use the stuff.
Cautiously, you take a dipped two finger glob of the salve in hand, as begin the the application of the greasy ointment. Taken from an already opened jar, starts the coating of it on toes and feet before sinking them into the hard knobby feeling pony hoofs. Noticing how there were slots to fit each of five toes inserted into the hoofs, that once the toes were set, begets the applying then of more salve onto shins, and up the legs before hoisting up that silky fur covering what makes human legs become as if then you hind like legs of a shaggy furry pony.
The hands are nervous and shaking, as with the stroking of the nice, thick fur, as comes a delightful feel when combing the fingers through the thick pelt, making for non-human looking legs and thighs. You push and pull up the skin tight leggings, as your legs feel a tightening of the costume material along the length of each leg.
The use of the salve seemed to better the ease of putting on the difficult lower half of the costume, as there was a place for everything, and put everything in a pony style proper place. You smile as donning the salve to your torso and wrapping ever higher the pony hide with fur, has you almost looking like a real born, pony.
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