Pinkie Pie was no stranger to late nights.

To say she was energetic or hyperactive was to completely miss the point. She laughed and skipped and jumped because everything was, to her, wonderful. Life was a game, and she was always winning. Her element was "laughter" (if you asked the types who named such things) but a more apt descriptor would be optimism.

Thus, her late nights weren’t just because she was over-energized—though a case could certainly be made for a high metabolism and a stupefying sugar intake playing a significant role. Pinkie Pie stayed up late because she genuinely felt that the nights were really really gosh dang pretty. Luna didn’t know it, but Pinkie Pie was one of her biggest fans.

So when Pinkie Pie saw the shooting star, she stomped and cheered like nopony was around. Of course, nopony was around—Pinkie did her stargazing from a hill overlooking town—but then she wouldn’t have cared if they were, anyway. She was, after all, Pinkie Pie.

When it started to get real close, however, she began to feel a little concern. She’d tried learning about the stars from Twilight a long time ago, but despite being one of her bestest friends in the whole wide world, Twilight wasn’t very good at explaining things in brevitas. Case in point; Pinkie had no idea if in brevitas really meant anything like what she thought it meant, but since Twilight’s attempt at teaching her that language had failed just as miserably as her explanation of falling stars had, Pinkie wasn't really sure. In the end, it didn't matter all that much.

What did matter, however, was the rapidly approaching fireball. Pinkie wasn't sure if it was really as dangerous as she thought it was—it was, after all, really really gosh dang pretty. However, the Pinkie Sense was giving her an overpowering “falling object” signal, and so Pinkie deduced that diving out of the way was probably a really good idea, and so she did.

As the long, smoking furrow which soon formed in the hillside bore out, this had been the correct course of action. The Pinkie Sense had a good track record on the falling objects front, after all.

As Pinkie got up to examine the crashed thingy from space, she reflected on what little of Twilight's lesson she remembered. Twilight had mentioned at some point that things from space usually didn’t make it to the ground. What did make it to the ground was usually just really hot rocky-metally-stuff, but sometimes it was really rare really hot rocky-metally-stuff that was useful for all sorts of things. Thus, Pinkie decided that, seeing as how this thingy from space had landed right next to her and there were no other sapient creatures around for at least a kilometer or two, it was rightfully hers, and whatever she could get by selling and/or cooking it was thus also rightfully hers.

The crash trail stretched a good ways down the hill, into a small grove of trees which seemed to have sprung up for the sole purpose of defying the forest twenty meters away. They were, as of now, apparently regretting this rebellious decision, as one of them was bent at a funny angle, and the rest were looking down mournfully at where a smouldering something from space was embedded at their roots. “Please don’t catch us on fire,” they seemed to say, except that trees didn’t have mouths and it would be silly for them to actually say that. They also would have had a short conversation with their injured comrade, who would have claimed to be fine despite the forty-five degree angle of his trunk. But, again, that would have been silly, and thus it is reasonable to assume it didn’t happen.

Pinkie nodded politely to the trees as she stepped into the copse. The thingy from space was indeed smoking, but whatever it was it also seemed to be quite a bit cooler than Pinkie’s limited memory of Twilight’s explanation told her a thingy from space should be. It was round, a little smaller than Pinkie’s head, and it was charred all over.

Pinkie tapped it with a hoof, then yelped and stuck the hoof in her mouth. It was very hot—not quite as hot as a frying pan, perhaps, but hot enough to hurt. There was a little mark on the side, a round groove.

As Pinkie watched, the space inside the round groove popped out—a door?—and something small and blue slid out onto the dirt. It looked like a lump of particularly unruly blue dough with little legs.

Pinkie reached out to touch it, because that was just how she rolled.

The thing raised a little leg and touched back.

“Hello pink creature,” said a voice inside Pinkie’s head. “Greetings to you and your kin.”

Pinkie giggled. “Hi, weird thingy from space,” she said. “I’m Pinkie Pie!”

The blob twitched. “I’m sorry, but I do not understand your language. I can only communicate with you through a telepathic link that is formed by touch. If you wish to communicate, you must think the words to me.”

Pinkie blinked twice. “Okay,” she said, then stopped and giggled. “Oops.”

“Okay,” she thought. “Hi mister space thing! My name is Pinkie Pie!”

“My ability to understand you is hampered by a limited comprehension of your central nervous system and a lack of knowledge as to the subtleties of your language. However, I comprehend that this is a greeting, and that your name is—” in her own voice “—Pinkie Pie!”

“Wow, you’re really cool! I don’t really know what most of that means, but it sounds like something Twilight might say.”

“I do not understand what ‘cool’ means in this context. However, it appears to be a positive label, so thank you. I also detect that this 'Twilight' individual is someone whom you hold in significant regard, and thus I am also grateful that you would compare me to her.”

“Do you have a name, space thingy?”

“I do not, though the concept of a single name for an individual entity is something I am aware of.” The blob jiggled a bit. “I suppose if I were to give my designation, it would be one-who-explores-and-adopts-new-shapes. It is, perhaps, not as elegant as Pinkie Pie.”

“What about ‘Gooey’? Can I call you Gooey?”

“I suppose that is an apt description of my current form. However, it will not remain a sufficient descriptor for very long. My body will not remain like this. Soon, I will change into a form more fitting for exploring and learning about this new environment.”

“Oh! So you’re a shapeshifter? That’s cool!”

“‘Shapeshifter’ is an adequate term, which I take to be some form of compounded term composed of the concepts relating to form and change.” There was a long pause. “However, it is unfortunately inaccurate to call me a shapeshifter at this present time.” Attached to this statement was a note of sadness.

“Awww, what’s wrong, Gooey?”

“It seems I made an error in my approach to the surface. The impact damaged my synthetic-organic systems. I cannot, therefore, shift my shape; my form is locked in its current state.”

“Oh no!” Pinkie cooed sympathetically—in her mind. “Is there any way I can help?”

“Perhaps. Secondary emergency protocols allow for temporary or permanent bonding with an indigenous carbon-or-silicon-based life-form. However, with the exception of you, all nearby life-forms either possess too little biomass or are immobile, and carrying me to a compatible life-form would, I suspect, tax your physical abilities. I am composed of materials of significant density.”

Pinkie smiled. “Well, there’s me, right?”

“I do not think you understand what this process entails. I would become enmeshed with your body. Even if this were a temporary arrangement, most sapient life-forms find the process to be… invasive.” There were mental connotations to that last word that Gooey made sure to stress over the mental link. What came across was… an intimate feeling. “It is against protocol to initiate such a process with a sapient creature. It is an emergency procedure only.”

Now, Pinkie was no prude. She’d had her share of hot-sweaty nights with a few of her many friends, and she was, by and large, known to be pretty damn good in bed. She didn’t consider sex to be as important as a lot of ponies did; it was something you did with your friends to relax and have fun. Protection was, of course, essential, but there were spells for that, and Pinkie had a number of unicorn friends who were always willing to help her either get ready or clean up—especially if she got them into the arrangement.

Besides, the images she was getting over the mental link were… intriguing. Not to say that they would necessarily have been her cup of tea under most circumstances, but they were weird and new. Pinkie wasn’t kinky (except on Saturdays) but she also wasn’t against trying new things. In fact, she was rather fond of trying new things, just to see if they were worth maybe trying again. And again. And again. That was what Saturdays were for.

Besides, this was to help her new friend Gooey out of a real pickle. She could put up with some weirdness for that!

“It’s okay!” she said. “I’ll do it. It’s temporary, right? So we can stop doing it whenever.”

Gooey considered this for a long while. “I suppose. Are you certain?”

Pinkie nodded. “Yep!”

“Very well.” Gooey was obviously hesitant. “I will need an orifice.”

Pinkie pondered that word for a long while. “I’ve got a few of those,” she said hesitantly.

“Preferably one that is not involved with respiration or the digestion of food. Those may end badly for one or both of us.”

Pinkie gave a relieved sigh. “I’ve got one of those!”

“...Very well, then. If you would present it to me, I can begin the process.”

Pinkie Pie pulled her hoof away from Gooey for a moment. She lay down on her back, swishing her tail to the side to reveal her nethers. She reached out and prodded Gooey with her back hoof. “The middle one. It’s the biggest.”

Gooey quivered, and then slowly started rolling towards Pinkie’s groin. Pinkie felt a twinge of anticipation, and nudged the thing-from-space with her thigh. “It’s okay.”

“Are you certain? As I said, this procedure is highly invasive. I would rather not provoke an interstellar war.”

“It’s totally fine.” Pinkie nodded resolutely. “It’s not gonna hurt, right?”

“Rather the opposite, I suspect, though I do not know the specifics of your nerve clusters.”

Pinkie shrugged. “Well, I trust you, Gooey.”

Again, Gooey was silent. A feeler reached out towards Pinkie’s folds, touching at them lightly. A spark of pleasure rolled up Pinkie’s spine, and she inhaled sharply. She felt hesitation from Gooey, and immediately responded with a fervent “Keep going.”

Gooey’s feeler grew in size, becoming a small tentacle. It pushed in, entering the space between Pinkie’s legs and sliding up inside her. Pinkie bit her lip as the sensation hit her, and resisted the urge to buck her hips towards Gooey. The tendril kept going until it reached the mouth of her cervix, and stopped.

“I cannot do this… as delicately as I had hoped,” Gooey informed her mournfully. “I do not have the required leverage.”

Pinkie’s hips quivered. “It’s okay,” she said again. “Do… whatever you have to do!”

Another tendril rose from Gooey’s body and buried itself in Pinkie’s snatch. She let out a gasp as the feeling shot through her. The second tendril dove into her, spreading her caverns ever so slightly. The two tendrils pushed at her walls, but found little traction on the slick surfaces. Another tendril rose from Gooey, and did the same. Pinkie nearly squealed with delight as it too made its entrance. She was feeling pretty full already, and somehow she got the feeling the fun was only beginning.

“I am detecting an intense sensory experience. Are you all right, Pinkie Pie?”

“Yes!” Pinkie closed her eyes and letting her head rest on the grass. “I am totally, totally, super DUPER okay with this.”

Gooey didn’t respond. Instead, he snaked a fourth tendril inside. Within Pinkie’s quivering cavern, the four tendrils touched against her cervix and pushed, gently sliding inside. A flash of pain hit Pinkie, and not the good kind of pain.

"Ow ow ow—" she grunted, wincing. "That doesn't feel right."

Gooey froze inside Pinkie. "I'm sorry. I am still learning your physiology. If you give consent, I can interface with your nervous system and try and mitigate any discomfort."

Pinkie gritted her teeth. "Yeah, that'd be kinda good. This kinda hurts—"

She didn't get to finish the thought, as the pain abruptly shifted into ludicrous amounts of pleasure. Pinkie gasped for breath, digging her hooves into the ground. She bit her lip to stifle a scream as Gooey's tendrils gently started to spread her open. The grove of trees, had their interactions and thought processes not been by-nature absurd and thus not-real, would have looked on with interest. "Kinky," one might say. "Weirdos," another might mutter.

Gooey paused again.“I appear to have made... an error. I thought my actions would eliminate the sensation of discomfort, but it appears I overtapped your senses." Gooey said. I will adjust my actions to reduce—”

“No!” Pinkie gasped. “D-d-don’t stop!”

Gooey was silent. The tendrils reached into Pinkie’s womb and touched against the walls. Their tips grew sticky, and they found firm purchase despite the slickness of her folds. Then, they grew taut.

“Prepare yourself, Pinkie Pie.”

Then, Gooey pulled. The body met Pinkie’s vulva, and Pinkie let out a startled scream. The alien tugged at her uterine walls and pushed against her labia. Gooey vibrated against her, sending wave after wave of pleasure through her lower body. Still, something didn't seem quite right. Gooey's thoughts radiated frustration.

I am experiencing... difficulty. Could you assist me, Pinkie Pie?

Pinkie looked down in a sudden moment of clarity. Gooey's body was pressed against her groin, held there by the tendrils inside. He wasn’t much bigger than her hoof, but he weighed almost as much as a bowling ball. Still, given his size, even with Pinkie's... flexibility, he obviously wasn't going to get any further on his own.

It was at this point that the actual, seriously real situation hit Pinkie. She was about to stuff an alien glob-monster into her cooch.

She grinned. Saturday sure came early this week.

She put a hoof against Gooey and pushed, forcing him inside until his body slid fully into her canal. Her tongue lolled, but there was a blissful smile on her face. It felt good. Not right by a long shot, but good.

She began to pant as Gooey slowly reeled himself towards her inner chamber. She’d had sex with plenty of stallions, but this was a completely new—and very welcome—sensation. Gooey pressed against her slick walls, filling her with something warm and hard and oh so fun. He was like a hot, wiggly, rubber penis, except moving deeper inside her than any such object ever had.

“Don’t STOP!” she begged, then giggled. It had been years since she'd had this much fun.

Gooey didn’t stop. The body met her cervix, and the tendrils tightened. They pulled at the gate, and the should-have been pain was once again switched into a blast of pleasure that nearly sent Pinkie right over the edge.

Still, even with Pinkie’s fluids to lubricate the path, Gooey was just too large. For a second time, he was stopped, pressed against the opening, vibrating violently as he struggled to pass.

It was almost too much for Pinkie. The little tugs inside her womb drove her mad with pleasure, the surprising weight of the thing trying to enter her deepest recesses gave credence to the reality of everything that she experienced, and the psychic feedback doubled and then tripled the sensations. She was at the very edge, and she didn’t want to step back.

“I cannot do this without a measure of force, Pinkie Pie. Are you prepared?”

“Please, yes!”

And Gooey pushed. With surprising strength, the tendrils wrenched at her cervix and forced the body through. Pinkie let out a scream as the pleasure ramped up by a factor of ten. She writhed in ecstasy as Gooey forced himself into her womb, and the feeling just didn’t fade. For almost an hour, she lay there in the dirt, her tail and legs soaking in her juices, her body twitching as orgasms rolled over her like ocean waves.

The trees, still not actually talking except in hypotheticals, would have looked at each other and given little tree-shrugs. "She seemed to enjoy it," they might say. "Who are we to judge?"

Gradually, Pinkie began to "hear" something through the warm static of hormones and stimulated nerves. “Pinkie Pie? Pinkie Pie?”

“I’m okay, Gooey.” She sat up slowly, her eyes unfocused. "Wow."

“Are you certain? The sensations became… most intense.”

“It was wonderful.” Pinkie let out a long moan. She could feel Gooey moving inside her. He really did weigh a ton for something his size.

Something occurred to her. He? She? “Are you a mare or a stallion?” she asked, then laughed. "Silly question. Are you female or male?"

“Female… male… I am aware of such distinctions, but I do not have the characteristics of either, strictly speaking. However, my species typically consider themselves male when dealing with others which possess such characteristics, though merely for the sake of convenience in conversation.”

“Okay! I call call you ‘he’, then. That’s gonna be really helpful to the narrator later on.”

“I do not understand,” Gooey said, not understanding as Pinkie did the complexities of writing about a character with a gender system unsupported by the given author's chosen language.

Pinkie let out a contented sigh. “Nopony does, Gooey.” She glanced at her belly. There was a small bulge around her womb, and she could definitely feel Gooey’s weight inside her. She poked at the bump, and giggled as it wiggled. “It’s gonna be really hard to explain this to my friends.”

“I can make myself less conspicuous, if you prefer. There will, however, be consequences to doing so, though the process is reversible.”

Pinkie considered this. “You don’t have to, but it’d probably be better if you did. I think you’d really freak out some ponies I know, and having a big belly means things here that I don’t really want to be associated with. Right now. Maybe someday, but not right now.” She tilted her head. "And so long as these 'consequences' are reversible, I don't mind."

“I understand… please prepare yourself. This may feel rather intense—”

And then Pinkie’s womb suddenly became a beacon of pure pleasure. Pinkie’s head slammed into the grass and her back arched as an orgasm unlike anything she’d ever felt ripped through her body. A scream tried to emerge from her throat, but it just didn’t make it out. Her entire body felt like it was submerged in a white-hot sea of boiling goodness.

The orgasm only lasted about thirty seconds this time, but by the end of it Pinkie felt like she’d just been hit by a train.

“Wowza!” She blinked as the world spun around her. She felt hypersensitized, with every tiny air current sending a shiver down her spine. “What was that?”

“I am now integrated within your biological systems," Gooey said. His voice had changed. Before he'd seemed like he was distant, a little echo-y, maybe, but now it sounded like he was talking right in Pinkie's ear. "I can confirm that your body weight has thusly increased by approximately seven kilograms, though the additional mass has been spread through your frame as to be visually unobtrusive. It is possible that this will re-set some of my synthetic-biological systems, including the ability to change shape. If so, you will be capable of controlling these abilities to a limited degree. I can test this now, if you’d like.”

Pinkie’s eyes widened. She climbed to her hooves, shaking her self to get some of the dirt off. “You mean I can be a shapeshifter too!?”

“Possibly. If so, then I can leave your body and—”

“No!” Pinkie shook her head violently. “That was super amazing. Please don’t go!”

Gooey pondered. “Very well… but I have a mission to perform. I am here to learn about your world, so that I may subsequently report this data to my homeworld for archival and research purposes. Our… coupling has already produced a tremendous quantity of data.” He paused. “And, admittedly, it may provide many more opportunities to gather more immense amounts of data.”

“Great!” Pinkie’s mouth broke into a beaming grin. She hopped experimentally. The weight was definitely there, but it felt as if her muscles had been adjusted to compensate for it. She looked the same as far as she could tell.

"How do I know if the shapey-shifty thing works?" she asked.

"As I said, I can test it now, if you would like. How would you like me to act?"

Pinkie scratched her chin with her hoof, then grinned. "Ooh! What about wings?"

"Difficult, but possible. You may feel a momentary discomfort..."

Pinkie jumped in shock as her back suddenly seemed to catch fire. She glanced back, and was shocked to see her skin melting, two patches growing out until they stretched into wings. She thought they had stopped, at first, but they kept growing and growing until they were each wider than she was tall. Leathery skin stretched between them, like bat wings.

Pinkie winced. "Eh... not exactly what I had in mind."

"I will undo the change. I take it you were expecting wings conforming to an avian variety... however, I do not possess the... 'imprint' of such wings on a scale which would fit your body."

Pinkie winced as the wings receded back into her back, then gave a noncommittal shrug. "We can worry about that later, I guess."

Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. “You’re into doing sciency things, right?”

“That is an adequate assessment of my functionality, yes.”

Pinkie’s grin widened. “I think I know just the pony to introduce you to!”

Several kilometers away, Twilight Sparkle momentarily woke with a splitting headache. However, instead of interpreting this as an omen of doom and taking the opportunity to pack her bags and leave for Canterlot that very moment—as would have been a completely reasonable and sensible thing to do under the circumstances—she simply popped two aspirin and crashed back into her bed with a mumbled complaint about the world hating her.

This was not, as she would discover the following morning, the most brilliant decision of her life. Nor was it the end to her headaches.

Author's Note

I have passed the gates of madness, and apparently there was porn on the other side.

This is my first clopfic. I say this not to ask for sympathy, but to ask for advice. I have no idea what the buggering fucknuggets I am doing right now. Please send help, advice, or assassins. Perhaps helpful advisory assassins. Preferably ones who know how to write tentacle porn.

Happy fapping!