Author's Note

Just a reminder that this story has both Dark and Sex tags. You have been warned.

*Sits back and watches as Altered Visage gains a sudden spike in dislikes*

edit: Alternately, I could be pleasantly surprised as I watch it gain a spike in likes. That works too.

No Nightmare

Hours passed in near silence, the only sounds being that of Nutcase poring through assorted papers and the dull clunk of chitin on metal whenever one of us changelings repositioned ourselves in our cages. Once she seemed to notice something, and with an ear flicking in annoyance, she walked back up the stairs she had brought me down. Several minutes later, she returned, muttering something about nosy princesses and pink ponies.

The chilled air leeched the heat from my frame, and I spent much of my time curled up as much as possible, shivering. I tried to avoid moving from my position on the cage’s floor that had warmed through my contact with it. My eyes never left my captor, fearing what she may do and feeling envy over her warm coat of fur. My attempts to replicate said luxury through transformation were met with failure, presumably thanks to the metal band on my horn that no amount of effort seemed able to remove. Either that or I was a terrible changeling. To be honest, both were distinctly plausible.

Nutcase paused from her work to stifle a yawn. As much as I fought it, I couldn’t help but yawn in response. I turned my head away to hide it, and when I turned back she was approaching our cages, stopping in front of the one next to mine.

“Your turn tonight, Dryma.” Nutcase informed the changeling beside me with an eager grin. After a moment of hesitation, Dryma rose to his hooves.

While I contemplated the oddity of his name, both the unicorn’s horn and the metal band on Dryma’s horn glowed Nutcase’s signature yellow, followed shortly by an intense flash of equally yellow flame, causing me to jump to my hooves in surprise. In the changeling’s place was now a turquoise stallion with a fiery orange mane and tail. On his flank was a cutie mark of a stack of books. The overall effect of the disguise was somewhat mitigated by the presence of an obvious changeling horn upon his forehead, still encircled by a metal band.

Much to my surprise, Nutcase opened the cage door and Dryma stepped out. Her eyes wandered, lingering on certain areas of the transformed stallion and nodded with a satisfied smile. She sent a final pulse of magic into the metal ring and walked off, hips swaying, through a nearby door as Dryma followed stiffly behind.

Confused, I looked over to the remaining changeling in hope that he would explain what had just happened. No explanation was forthcoming, though, as he just lay there impassively. I glanced back at the door a moment, and then returned my attention to the changeling.

“Um...excuse me,” he raised his head and looked my way in response to my words, “what was that about? Why did she let him out of his cage?”

“You’re joking, right?” Confusion spread across the other changeling’s face.

“No, I really don’t know.” I plaintively responded. He just snorted derisively in response and turned away from me. “I’m not really a changeling. Whatever Nutcase did caused me to be trapped in this body. I have no idea what’s going on!” He turned back to me, eyes narrowed.

“This isn’t funny, Visage. Stop it.”

“I’m serious. I’m not Visage, my name is Victor and I’m human. I have a small apartment, a job at the bank, and a bed I was asleep in a few nights ago before I woke up as a big, black bug.”

The changeling leapt at the bars of his cage towards me with a loud clunk, fire burning in his blue eyes. “We are not bugs! We are not pests to be crushed beneath somepony’s hooves! We are changelings!”

“I’m sorry.” I squeaked out.

I quivered against the bars of my own cage as far as I could get from the furious changeling. The sound of deep, angry breathing filled the space, interrupted occasionally by an occasional sound coming from the room that Nutcase and Dryma had gone into. It sounded like her voice, but it was muffled by distance and a wall. I nervously eyed the door they had gone through.

“You really don’t know, do you?” His voice was low and mournful. I shook my head slowly in response to his query. He remained quiet for awhile after that, I wondered if he was going to continue. “My name is Pupa, and he is Drymanid, or Dryma for short.” He indicated towards the door with a nod of his head.

“What is she doing to him? Why did he turn into that stallion?” I asked, fearing what the answer may be.

Pupa closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh, then pointed a hoof towards his horn. “She uses these rings to inhibit our magic and control us. Can’t take em off ourselves, as I’m sure you noticed. She makes us transform into her dead husband, Musty Tome, and then force feeds us.”

“Force feeds? What do you-“I stopped mid sentence, eyes widened and heart dropping in my chest as I realized the implications of what he just said. “No...”

“Yes.” Pupa confirmed my dread bitterly. “She uses us noble changelings as sex toys. Just a few weeks ago she got the idea to try and bring back her husband for real by reaching into the land of the dead and pulling his spirit into one of us.” My mind reeled at the information I was receiving

“How long have you been here?”

“I don’t know. A long time. Ever since we were knocked out of Canterlot during the invasion. A few others landed in the forest with us, injured, and were found by her. Only we three lucky ones survived.” That last sentence dripped with sarcasm and bitterness.

My mind raced, trying to figure out how long that actually would be. The show had a very loose sense of the passage of time. Twilight said Equestria Girls happened seven moons ago, which was after the season three finale. We were currently somewhere in season four, I think, so seven moons for a partial season. The Canterlot Wedding was the season two finale, so probably more than seven moons before Equestria Girls. Assuming ‘a moon’ is roughly one month, then that would mean....well over fourteen months.

I could be trapped here for years. I began to hyperventilate as the true gravity of my situation sank in.

“I have to get out of here.” I forced the words out from my trembling lips, desperate for Pupa to offer up a solution for escape from my fate. He shook his head nearly imperceptibly.

“We’ve tried. Any time we fight her, she cripples us through the rings.”

I stood there in tense silence for a moment, and then with a scream of fury, I threw myself against my cage door. The pain of the impact was dulled by my rage and desperation as I continued beating myself against the metal bars ineffectually.

“Calm down, Visage, you’ll hurt yourself!”

I ignored Pupa’s words as best I could, but as my body became more battered and bruised they wriggled their way deep within my mind until I was lying in a pool of my own tears. Could he be right? Was I soon to learn firsthand that acceptance of this new life I had been given was the only way to cope with the trauma?

“This.....this can’t be happening, it isn’t fair!”

Most men like to imagine themselves as a big, badass action hero who would spit in the face of danger and charge right through it to freedom and victory. For the majority of men, that is nothing more than a fantasy. Most men are more likely to be the hapless bystander who gets murdered to establish the villain as a threat, or the helpless hostage that the real hero needs to save.

For myself, these last few days had stripped me of any delusions that I might somehow be part of the special few. In the face of great adversity I was reduced to a blubbering mess, tears coursing down my face as I childishly proclaimed how unfair the situation was. As if pointing out that I was being wronged would suddenly convince the universe to break out of its cold, uncaring shell and set everything right again.

But this was reality. Reality didn’t care. Reality couldn’t care.

The only thing my whining accomplished was to make me look like a child throwing a tantrum, but what else could I do? It was all I had left. I had no agency over my own life anymore. Expressing my anguish was my sole remaining right.

As wrapped up in my own misery as I was, I barely noticed when Drymanid was returned to his cage, now in his usual changeling form and smelling of sweat and...other bodily fluids. If I had anything in my stomach, I probably would have thrown up. I covered my face with my hooves and tried to shut out everything around me.

The lights turned off as Nutcase presumably went upstairs to sleep. I could hear Pupa explaining to Drymanid about my situation, but I tried to ignore it as best I could and get to the temporary sanctuary of unconsciousness that sleep would provide. Sure, I would probably have nightmares, but it couldn’t be much worse than what was really happening.

Nightmares.

Of course! I could contact Princess Luna in my dreams and she could help me! She could send some guards or the mane six or maybe even come herself and save me from this place! A slight, hopeful smile spread across my tear stained face. Now all I had to do was fall asleep, while both terrified of what will happen if I can’t escape and giddy at the prospect of a way out. Needless to say, sleep was slow to come.

_______________

The sound of approaching hoof steps woke me and I opened my eyes groggily. Metal bars and darkness beyond greeted my vision and the sound of light snoring could be heard. It was difficult to concentrate on much, though, because two kinds of coldness penetrated me to the core, not to mention the aching pain from the plethora of bruises my outburst last night had earned me. I felt sluggish and tired, despite having just slept. Something else was bothering me too, but it wasn’t physical and my clouded mind couldn’t quite grasp what it was.

The hoofsteps grew closer and the magical lights flared on, eliciting a groan of pain from me as I tried to block out the offending brightness with a hoof. What I would have given for a return to darkness and sleep.

“Rise and shine, love bugs! It’s another beautiful day. Not that you could tell from down here, but it is none the less. I’m not even going to let that annoying pink friend of yours snooping around outside spoil it for me. Let her snoop. I’ve got this place so full of wards that not even Celestia herself could detect you down here.”

I steadfastly refused to look at Nutcase, who’s overtly cheerful voice grated on my ears. Maybe if I ignored her she would disappear like a bad dream.

A bad dream? Suddenly I knew what had been bothering me.

“I didn’t dream last night...” It was barely more than a whisper, more of a statement to myself than anything else, but Nutcase seemed to hear it just fine.

“Well of course you didn’t, you’re wearing a magical inhibitor.” She unhelpfully explained. I finally uncovered my eyes and stared up at her in confusion. “What, do dreams not work the same where you come from? Dreams are an expression of the latent magic within a pony. If I block your connection with your magic, you can’t dream. Simple as that.”

If I had been standing, I would have collapsed from this disastrous news. I thought I would have been crying at the crushing of my final hope for escape, but I was just too tired. The sharp click of my cage being unlocked and opened snapped me out of my stupor.

“Come on, Visage or Chance or whatever your name is now. I need to run some tests on you.” Nutcase beckoned me to come forth with a hoof. I attempted to back away further into the corner of my cage. “Don’t be like that. You don’t want to make me force you, do you?”

Resigning myself to the situation, I struggled shakily to my hooves. “There’s a good girl.” Nutcase encouraged me as if I was some kind of child, but I was too preoccupied with trying to stay upright to care. I took a couple shaky steps forward before my legs crumpled beneath me and I fell to the ground halfway out of my cage with a groan of pain. My breathing was laboured, as if I had just gone through some strenuous exercise instead of merely standing and taking a few steps.

“You’re hurt.” Nutcase gave an exasperated sigh. A cool, yellow glow passed over my body, causing me to shiver. “And you’re too low on love to heal up properly. Of course. No help complaining about it, I suppose. We’ll just have to fix that first.”

My stomach turned at the knowledge of what ‘fixing’ entailed, so I fought to regain a standing position.

“N-no...I’m fine.” I protested, even as the strength in my legs continued to fail me. Nutcase gave a derisive snort at my attempts to remain on my hooves, but she let me continue until I was gasping for breath on the cold floor. My limbs burned from the exertion and I had given up trying.

“Are you done?”

I didn’t respond to her question. I don’t even know if I was capable of responding with how difficult I was finding it to breathe. The room was spinning in my vision, so I laid my head down and closed my eyes, hoping it would stop.

Electricity arced through my body, originating from my forehead as something long, warm and wet dragged itself up my horn. I jerked my head away from the offending object, but a growl emanated from the creamy orange throat filling my vision, and Nutcase’s magical grasp jerked my horn back within reach of her tongue. I squeezed my eyes shut again as she continued her oral assault.

I shuddered violently at the intense stimulation my relatively new and incredibly sensitive appendage was receiving. An involuntary moan escaped my throat and I bit my lip to stifle it. Nutcase giggled lightly at my reaction, then moved beyond licking to engulf my horn with her mouth. She went torturously slow, taking her time to ensure I could absorb all I could as she ‘lovingly’ attended to the spike on my head.

I grew more and more tense as her ministrations continued, feeling a pressure building up inside me, fighting to escape from my body in a chaotic explosion of unnerving sensations. A burning consumed another recently added part of my anatomy, much to my discomfort. My cheeks blazed with shame and embarrassment.

The pressure reached a breaking point. I stiffened like a board, my body twitching involuntarily as I tried to muffle a scream of unwanted pleasure. I went limp and Nutcase removed herself from my horn. With a hoof, she forced me to look into her eyes and then brought her lips to mine, kissing me deeply. I nearly gagged as her tongue invaded my mouth.

For a moment, I thought I saw Rainbow Dash through the blur of my teary eyes where Nutcase stood. Was this how she had felt when I had kissed her? I made a promise that if I ever got out of this, I would apologize and beg her forgiveness. Nutcase broke away from my lips and stared longingly into my eyes.

I felt great. I felt ashamed. I felt energized. I felt sick.

Nutcase’s horn glowed as she channeled a new spell. It felt like my own horn was being torn from my skull, it burned with agony as yellow flames engulfed me. Being forcibly transformed was a disconcerting experience. For the first time since becoming a changeling, I actually noticed every change my body went through. I could feel my limbs extending, my body growing thicker, and my anatomy rearranging as I took on the guise of a turquoise stallion. Nutcase grinned with satisfaction.

I tried to turn my head from the mad mare in front of me. My head remained facing her.

I told my hooves to push me away from her as she gave me a flirtatious smile. My hooves pushed me into a standing position.

I willed my legs to run for the stairs as she trotted towards the door. My legs followed her into a dimly lit room with a large, plush bed.

I urged my body to stay put as she draped herself across that bed. My body crawled up after her.

I pleaded my lips to tell her to stop as she gazed lustfully at me. My lips tenderly kissed hers.

I begged my eyes to shut out what was about to happen. My eyes kept unwavering focus on the mare beneath me.

I screamed at my mind to think of a way out of this. My screams echoed silently through my mind.