Ever since you found the changeling, your life has gotten... interesting. You found it in the woods one day, hurt and alone. Curious as to how it got int this state, you brought it home and managed to nurse it back to health through your love and care. Soon, though, the changeling began to want more. At first it was simple closeness, but you find yourself in a difficult situation.
The changeling pushes your door open, its movements reminding you of a cat you once owned. The next thing you notice is a strange smell permeating the air around the bughorse. Your gaze is drawn to its source: the drone's twin sexes, its female slit slightly moist and its shaft just beginning to poke out from its sheath.
For some reason, the bug looks nervous. "A-anon? I have a... a favor to ask."
Uh-oh.
Despite yourself, you ask the changeling what the problem is.
"I'm really hungry..."
It's pretty obvious to you what the bug wants, though you’re not entirely sure how to react. You play dumb, hoping that you're wrong. You get off your computer chair and kneel down to give it a tight hug. You ask if that helped.
"Not much..." the drone kicks a forehoof idly at the ground, a teal tint rushing to its cheeks. "N-not that you don't give good hugs! It's just..." There’s an awkward silence while the bughorse contemplates its next words. "It's like eating a peanut when you really want a sandwich."
Called it. Your heart beating nervously, you ask the changeling what it wants. Your mind is racing a million miles a minute, trying to plan ahead for its possible reactions. You finally reach the conclusion that the drone means enough to you that if it really came down do it, you would probably do what it asked. Not that you really love the thing, but there's some intangible quality about the bug that made you want to take care of it.
In response to your question, the drone begins to step closer to you, and it is only then that you notice the bedroom eyes. "I want you, Anon."
Before you know what's happening, the changeling is upon you, its rough, hard chitin lips pressed to yours. Your eyes widen in an initial shock, but you soon find yourself relaxing. Though the feeling of the emotivore's lips against yours is strange, it's not entirely unwelcome. The drone wraps a forehoof around to your back, pulling itself against you. You can feel the faint pulse of its maleness through your shirt.
Apparently the changeling isn't done surprising you as you feel a light tickle against your mouth. You part your lips and the changeling's tongue finds its way into your mouth, its forked tip tickling against the roof of your mouth. The tongue wraps itself almost snakelike around your own. The drone has an odd taste to it; not foul, but certainly not clean.
You move your own hands to the back of the changeling's head, one of them stroking its strange "mane" while the other one begins to run up and down its shelled back. You close your eyes, relaxed as far as humanly possible.
It is then you feel a small tug from inside your chest. You're not concerned, having fed the changeling many times before. That said, you don't recall the emotion transfer being this sensual before. The tug continues, and with each passing second you feel yourself getting harder.
Finally the drone breaks the embrace and smiles. "Now that we're warmed up, are you ready for step two?"
Your heart skips a few beats and you feel the shock of adrenaline shooting through your body.
The moment of truth. Do you really go through with this?
A passenger to your own body, you undress and discard your clothes. You feel your cheeks burn in embarrassment as the drone gives you a once-over (or so you assume; it’s hard to tell with those pupil-less eyes). If the drone has any objections, it doesn't say anything, instead hopping up onto your bed.
In a trance, you follow, sitting on your shins to match the changeling's height. It puts a hoof to your bare shoulder, making you shiver. "Thank you, Anon." It smiles, exposing its fangs. "You've always been kind to me... I want to return the favor."
You blink in surprise. Definitely not what you were expecting. You're snapped back to the here and now by the feeling of a chitinous hoof trailing down your front. The motion sends thrills running up your spine, both warming and chilling you at the same time. The hard protrusion reaches your erect member and begins a slow trail towards its tip. The shivers of pleasure become even more intense, causing you to respond with an actual shake of your torso.
The changeling grins and gives you a gentle peck on the cheek. "Ready?"
With only a slight bit of hesitation, you nod ever so slightly.
No turning back now.
The drone lowers its head to your crotch, its own member scraping across your bed sheets. You can't help but wonder at its strange shape. Before meeting the changeling, you had never seen a horse dong before, as you lived in the city. The ring around the middle, the flared tip... you find your thoughts begin to drift and idly wonder about the feel and texture of the thing.
You're shaken from your reverie by a tickling on the underside of your own maleness, which twitches in response. You look down in time to see the changeling extend its dexterous tongue and coil it around your dick, the tip now tickling your head. The warm tightness feels amazing, and a tiny drip of pre leaks out, dropping onto the sheets below.
The drone moves forward, drawing your length into its mouth. The changeling's mouth is warm, tight, and moist, made doubly so by its tongue, which is now dancing around its mouth, licking you from all sides. You can feel the pressure in your balls begin to build as you feel yourself being drawn ever deeper into the emotivore's mouth.
Before long you find yourself hilted, a strange sensation due to the drone's chitin pressing against your pelvis. Another thrill asserts itself as the changeling's long tongue makes its way out of its mouth and down to your sack, which it begins to lick at.
You grunt, the increase in pleasure causing you to squirt another bit of pre, but this time there is nowhere for it to go other than straight down the emotivore's throat. This doesn't seem to bother it, though; in fact, it seems to encourage it as it begins to back off, exposing your saliva-coated dick to the cool air of your bedroom. Before you can get adjusted, the changeling moves forward again, pulling the entirety of your cock into its mouth.
The pressure in your balls continues to build, though you're sure that you would have normally come by now. Maybe the bug has some sort of-
Your train of thought is ripped asunder as the bughorse's tongue slithers out further than it has before, slides under your sack, and presses against your back entrance. The slight extra stimulation seems to have been the tipping point, and you arch your back, releasing into the changeling.
The bug seems to have little trouble swallowing nearly everything, a bit of your cum dribbling out over its lips. You slouch forward, your load spent. The changeling draws its tongue back into its mouth, one of the forks of its tongue tickling the inside of your urethra, cleaning you out.
You give a shudder at the overstimulation and pull out, your now-limp cock falling to gravity. You fall onto your back, enjoying the afterglow.
Until, that is, a pair of sexes is pressed into your face. "Your turn~"
And there it is. The other reason you were initially less-than-enthused about this. But now... you reach out and place your hands on the bugpony's flanks, steadying it. You can easily see now that the drone's slit has gotten much wetter, and a quick feel confirms that its dick is primed and ready. The member feels strange, the chitin of the rest of its body giving way to something a bit more like skin, but it still twitches in a very familiar fashion.
You slide around so that you are underneath the changeling, the flat tip of its thickness pointed at your face. Nervously, you extend your tongue and give the bug's member a small lick. The changeling's dick, in stark contrast to its mouth, has a very clean taste, though it is still alien.
You slide your hands up to the emotivore's flanks, the tip of your right index finger tracing a line up the bug's slickened slit while your other hand slides down to fondle the changeling's ample balls.
You hear a moan from your sexual partner, and you feel the bug's slit clench under your finger. Taking the opportunity, you plunge your index and middle fingers into its velvety warmth, pressing them against its inside as you begin to slide your fingers in and out.
Another moan from the changeling, louder this time, is accompanied by it pressing its rump forward, causing the tip of its maleness to press against your mouth, You can feel a bit of pre leaking out, which you lick up. It tastes not entirely unlike your own, though you notice that it lacks the bitterness that you attribute to your coffee habit.
You have to stretch your mouth wide to allow the bug access, but you are able to get the head into your mouth. The emotivore lets out a grunt of pleasure as your lips close around its girth and begins to slowly press itself into you. Your eyes widen in surprise but you manage to breathe around the mass in your mouth.
You increase your fingers' thrusting, adding in a few flicks to the changeling's clit. This gets a lusty moan out of the emotivore, its member dribbling more pre into your mouth. You begin to lick the changeling's flare and slit, and are rewarded with a gasp.
"Ah! A-anon! I'm... cumming!"
The changeling's inner walls tighten around your right hand as it orgasms, while its dick twitches, spewing cum into your mouth. To your surprise, it's cold, but not unbearably so. You drink down the bug spunk, attempting to get as much of it as you can down your throat. The changeling presses further into you, and you find yourself begin to gag as its medial ring passes your lips. You continue to swallow, the bug's length now fully in your mouth and pumping its seed directly into your stomach.
A small eternity of bliss later, the changeling pulls itself from your grasp, flopping on its side next to you. You don't think you've ever felt so full.
The changeling smiles and gives you a light kiss on your lips. "Thanks, Anon. That really helped."
"Dfskhb bslgdskjh," you answer. You shake your head and try again. "Gofla vsnois." The fuck? You begin to feel extremely tired, darkness closing in on your vision. The last thing you see before passing out is the changeling smiling gently to itself.
////====////
Consciousness returns to you like a slug dragging itself across molasses. You blearily open your eyes and are shocked to see everything tinted green. The second thing you notice is that you are upside-down, translucent membranes of... something keeping you snugly in place. You try to wiggle around, but whatever this is has you stuck. You try to call out, but find your mouth filled with fluid. It takes your fuzzy mind a bit to realize what it is: the changeling's spunk. Fear courses through you and you try to thrash about, but all you can do is make your prison sway a tiny bit.
Apparently drawn by the motion, the changeling approaches from one of the shadows in the cave.
Wait, what?
You were too busy panicking to notice, but it is obvious to you that you are no longer in your house.
The changeling smiles slightly. "Hello, Anon. Glad to see you awake."
Son of a bitch!
"Sorry that I had to trick you like that." It frowns. "You were genuinely the best lay I ever had. I'm going to miss having your mouth on my dick."
What in the hypothetical fuck?
The bug sighs. "Oh well. See you in a month." It leaves, looking back at you with what just might be a genuine look of sorrow on its face.
A wave of exhaustion washes over you, and you fall into a deep sleep once more.
////====////
Time passes. Over the course of the month, you come to realize that whatever is going on, you're not getting out of it. You find that you don't really need to eat any more; the changeling spunk seems to give you all you need. Eventually you build up a tolerance to its soporific effects; looking back, that might have something to do with your gradual loss of bone structure.
It came as a shock to you when you first thought your cocoon prison was closing in on you, but you soon realized that you couldn't feel any of your limbs any more. When you saw what looked like your cock float past your face, you realized what was happening: you were undergoing metamorphosis.
Back in the present, you find yourself inhabiting a new body. Your limbs have reformed, though they are more buglike and equine. Your skin has been replaced with a hard exoskeleton, your insides kept suspended in bug-goo. Unlike your captor, you find that you no longer possess any trace of maleness. Instead you have a single slit, ready to accept whatever is put into it. You can feel a strange, constant hardness on either side of your slit; you assume these to be eggs.
You have become a broodmare.
Your rebirth is swift, the bottom (top?) of the cocoon suddenly opening and dropping you to the cave floor like a newborn giraffe. You have no wings with which to catch yourself, so you can only sit there, slightly concussed as your captor returns.
It grins widely at your new form, though there is a tinge of sadness in there. "Excellent. With a broodmare, I can finally build my own hive!"
The changeling pushes you onto the ground, its hardened maleness rubbing through your asscheeks. An indescribably lustful scent fills the air, and you find yourself becoming more and more aroused with each breath you take, your love canal moistening until it is literally dripping wet.
The changeling moves to stand over you and buries itself deep within your folds. You arch your back and cry out, the strange sensation sending shock waves of pleasure throughout your body. The lustful bug pistons in and out, paying you no heed as you quickly succumb to the overwhelming new sensations. Over and over again you climax, each time seeming to only spur your captor to thrust harder.
At last you feel the telltale twitching of its shaft in your depths, the bug's oddly cool cum following shortly thereafter. You feel a chill as your body goes to work, sucking your captor of everything it gives you. The juice travels to the hardnesses in your nethers, where you feel an odd trembling as they begin to move towards your abdomen. To no surprise of your own (and more than a bit of arousal), you see through your translucent abdomen that you indeed have a pair of small eggs floating in there, though you are sure they will grow.
Its job done, the changeling pulls out of you and simply walks away, to where you neither know or care. You are simply content to lie on the floor and enjoy the feeling of your forehoof rubbing over your belly.
More time passes, and the changeling returns to repeat its earlier act. The cycle continues, each time more and more eggs are pushed into your belly. Soon enough you are immobile under the weight of your eggs, not that you ever learned or cared to learn how to move around in this form in the first place.
Yet more time passes, but the changeling does not return for a long time, or so you think. It is hard to keep track while in a sunless cave with dimly-glowing mushrooms as your only light source.
At last the changeling returns. Your stomach is now absolutely gigantic, easily twice your size. The pressure from the grown eggs is actually quite painful, though you would never admit as such. The changeling walks to your side and strokes your "mane."
"It's time," it says, smiling slightly.
You protest at the thought of not having your belly filled to bursting with eggs, but the other changeling reassures you that you will soon be full again. Its horn glows an emerald green, and your slit glows in kind, shooting a lightning bolt of pleasurable pain up your spine. Instinctually, you begin to contract your muscles, forcing a bright green egg out, its surface slick with slime. The other changeling picks up the egg in a field of magic and places it against the wall, the slime causing it to stick.
The process repeats, each birth making your swollen belly contract once more until you are finally devoid of eggs. On the other hand, you are surrounded by your children, their life lighting up the cave like constellations. You reach a hoof into the air to try and touch one as the exhaustion of your work overwhelms you, and you finally fall into the clutches of sleep.
Author's Note
Written in response to the "Would you a Changeling" thread. Apologies for any perceived laziness.
