Clop, Clop

“Come on. Time for the usual.” The dungeons of Canterlot were ill-used and more for show in the more peaceful days of the modern Principality, especially in the renewed Diarchy. Even so, there were occasional occupants. In the wake of the Changeling invasion, that included a captive member of the swarm. The worker had not been blown out of Canterlot and been easily captured. Now she languished in the dungeon, seldom seen, save by the white Pegasus that stood guard day and night. At first it had been a quiet tedium. Until he figured out certain advantages. “Come over here.”

The black, insect-like creature erupted in green fire, taking on the form of Sapphire Shores. “Seeeeeeeensational!” The green-eyed doppelganger smiled lewdly and licked her lips with a wink.

Thunder Crash tapped on the bars and shook his head. “None of that. That’s just disrespectful to everypony you imitate. I’ll not have you sullying the name of Sapphire Shores.”

“But you want her…” The Changeling teased, before flashing back into her normal shape, fluttering her hole filled wings and trotting slowly over to the bars.

“Never mind that. Come on, hoof through the bars.” Thunder was back from the bars, his dark-brown organ dropped and lightly slapping on his white belly. He slowly firmed, as he watched the changeling move around in her cell.

“Dirty, filthy pony.” The Changeling’s normal voice buzzed slightly, with a feminine undertone. She slowly leaned down and began to lick around one of the holes in her left foreleg. Her saliva-analogue fluid glistened invitingly in the low light of the dungeon. The hole looked to be one that went all the way through, with no broken edges, and was very wide. “You let yourself be touched by a disgusting monster.” She stuck the leg out through the bars, reaching almost to Thunder’s location.

“I live in a hole beneath Canterlot.” Thunder sat heavily on the ground, penis bobbing down to tap on the semi-rigid chitin of the Changeling’s leg. “I sleep here, eat here… everything here.” The warm, butter-smooth cocoa-brown skin slid along the waxy cuticle, sliding towards the glistening opening. “I guard one prisoner every second of the day. I think I might be insane.” His hooves grabbed the Changeling’s leg and brought it down, a loud, straining groan drawn from his mouth as the bulging crown of his organ slipped past top and bottom entrances with a wet pop, impaling his lightly-throbbing rod on the leg. “I don’t much care what the hay they think!”

The Changeling gasped with a buzzing squeak. Every inch of her cuticle was sensitive, like normal pony flesh. Even the inside of her holes was made of the waxy chitin and filled with the sensitive nerves. It was nothing like an actual sexual encounter. But it felt like a warm, gentle massage. She moved her leg slowly, up and down in synch with the gentle flexes of Thunder’s flanks, pushing his pole up and pulling it back down, sliding through the gap on a cushion of slick liquid. “I may be crazy too. I’m letting a pony touch me.”

Thunder was unhurried, setting the pace the nameless Changeling followed. He knew the schedules backwards and forwards. Nopony liked going down into the dungeon, especially into that particular section. He was relieved for taking care of hygienic tasks with some regularity, and ponies occasionally came in to feed himself and the Changeling. None were expected for a long while. That was why he felt free to do it. That was where his rational mind ended. He only wanted to savor the strange feeling of the waxy, slimy chitin around his organ. It almost felt like an addiction. But he didn’t stop because he was hooked. He did it because… it actually felt right. “Does this… feed you?”

“I need love to feed my powers and to grow stronger. Your pony food keeps me alive. But it would be like a unicorn being completely exhausted with no magic power left. You’d have to love me for me to get anything from it.” The Changeling was very even when talking about it. She performed her task with mechanical precision. She pumped her leg up and down, the sensation starting to fade away from pleasure. She was getting… used to the physical contact. No Changeling was normally used to such contact. Not in their natural form. It was normally under the thick blanket of disguise. Nopony was supposed to ever want to touch her chitinous flesh. Now this guard craved it.

“O-open! Open! Open!” A signal. His thrusting grew more erratic, despite how carefully he had been holding himself back. He just couldn’t get enough. But that just made him peak faster. His pole pulsed and spit thin strings of precum, lubricating the passage all the more. The leg pulled up and off with a slightly-struggled pop, and just in time. His crown flared as he gave a might cry, unleashing thick gushes of milky semen. The cry had been enough warning, the Changeling’s face right against the bars, mouth open wide. And as ever, his aim was true. Right into her mouth. And her jaw. And some on her face. It was a sloppy geyser. But it mostly got into her mouth.

As ever, she quickly scuttled off to tend to herself. She brought her head down between her own rear legs, showing remarkable flexibility, and buried her muzzle in against her own quasi-insectine sex, sloppily licking and grinding her face against it.

Thunder huffed softly, watching with his usual fascination. But on that day, a niggling thought tickled at the back of his head. He rolled onto his hooves and got up beside the bars. “Let me.”

All motion ceased, and the Changeling pulled her head up slowly from tending to herself. “What did you say?”

“Let me. You always do this but… I’ve got some time before they send somepony down here. Just let me.”

There was silence for a long while. Then she slowly trotted across the cell, wings buzzing in uncertainty. “Is this an elaborate trick?”

“To do what? I just want to finish you off, not steal your soul or something.” He winced a bit. “N-no, I mean…”

She was beside the bars at last, black flanks in his face. “I know. Prove you mean it.” She showed off her own external sex organs, which he had never really looked at. They seemed properly pony-like, though with odd fourfold symmetry, rather than simple bilateral symmetry. The peak of each fold held an engorged and exposed clitoris, and the whole was a pale, whitish color, with a very slight flush of green, probably the only visible sign of a Changeling blush. The whole thing was glistening with a kind of greenish-gold fluid that smelled vaguely of honey and roses. He leaned in with a slight tremble. The scent was inviting and the shape was… enough to draw his tongue in for a slow lick, dipping directly into the central meeting of the star-like folds. As somewhat expected, like honey and rosewater, cut with a subtle bitterness. “Wow. It tastes… good…”

The wings buzzed again, and the Changeling trembled. “Changeling honey… Workers convert some love into it and store it for the hive.” Her wings buzzed again, louder and more energetic as the tongue dipped into her depths. “It’s why we can eat! We can feed on honeyed love.” She pressed her rear end against the bars, wedging her rear between them as best she could manage, at the absolute limit of her freedom of motion.

Thunder pressed his face on against the slightly-cool legs, dipping his tongue deeply into the four-slit divot. There was warmth in there. In fact, it was warmer than the average pony. Changelings must run hot, to create a warmth within like that. His tongue trembled, stretched as far as possible, probing deep within what he presumed to be nothing more than a honey channel. Surely lesser Changelings weren’t allowed to do anything. “Mmmm, are you sure this feels like anything? Isn’t this just a place to produce honey?”

“No!” The Changeling smashed her legs against the bars, reaching back for that tongue. “Nnngh! Workers make honey out of their arousal! It channels desire away from what is forbidden! Only the queen can mate with the drones. If a worker mates with a drone they are killed. No worker may have children. They will not become a queen. But their children would not be loyal to the queen.” The engorged star pulsed with need, oozing more and more of the greenish-gold honey, demanding attention.

No tongue returned to the desperate passage, despite the obvious hunger of the owner. There was the clang of strong hooves slamming into the bars, vibrating the body of the Changeling that was so desperately mashed against them. Then something else jabbed into her, hard and fast, down to the medial ring. He was pressed flat against the bars, keeping as much distance as he could while still being able to thrust. “This is what you’ve wanted, isn’t it!? Who did you think you were fooling? I tasted something in you that couldn’t have been anything but… well, you know what it was. You’ve been trying to get yourself pregnant! Tell me why!”

There was a tremendous, echoing shriek from the Changeling as her alien-esque genitals were penetrated, for the first time in her life, by an actual sex organ. The honey-dripping folds pressed in around the cocoa flesh and drew upon it like a milking mouth; the external structures worked with muscular contractions and motions to caress the medial ring and stroke against the awkwardly pumping flesh. “I am free! Free from the swarm! I can have eggs if I want them.” Her front lowered, lifting her hindquarters just slightly. It was a foreign position. This was not how Changelings mated. This was how ponies mated. She was giving herself to a completely alien species.

Stallion brains were designed to work in only mode at a time. There was no room in there for any deep contemplation of how wrong it was for a pony to be offering his sperm to a love-eating, land-invading insect. A succubus in the real world. He could only note how great it felt. It beat an awkward, fumbling possibly-incorrect-insertion in a haystack on Nightmare Night with a mare he barely remembered. It beat everything, including the quick strokes that had first released tension, then kept the prisoner happy. Perhaps she had always been building to what was happening. The long game. The conclusion of the plan came as he flexed his hindquarters and let out a resounding whinny, head thown grandly to the side and making his helmet fall to the floor, his wings spreading out grandly in the traditional Pegasus display of complete pleasure.

It was… indescribable. For a worker, forever condemned to tend her own needs and to never mate on pain of death, to feel what mating was had seemed like a dream. Yet it was no dream, she was mating. With a pony. It was wrong; terribly wrong. But he… he was a drone to his queen, a guardian like the finest, strongest drones. He was a drone. He was mating her and it was right. And as the first gush of thick liquid surged into her, to mix with her honey, it came to her.

She would not die.

Canterlot Royal Guard Corps Inquest Report Summary, Casefile: 893F8A-C

Party in question: Miles Scutum Thunder Crash, Internal Palace Security, Celestian Corps, Dungeon Guard
Adjunct/Abettor: Changeling Prisoner (Reported alias during inquiry: Marianne)
Incident report: Prisoner found to be pregnant after several weeks of sole guardianship under the watch of the above-named party. Both the party in question and adjunct/abettor interviewed separately. Both refused to assign blame to either side or even to explain the circumstances of the situation.
Judgment: Above-named party formally Dishonorably Discharged
Addendum: By the grace and mercy of Her Majesty Princess Celestia the above-named party had their judgment commuted to Honorable Discharge and retention of pension on the condition of marriage to above-named adjunct/abettor.
Conclusion: Above-named party wedded to above-named adjunct/abettor; no criminal charges filed, by the grace and mercy of Her Majesty Princess Celestia. Both now under observation of the Noble Society’s department of Bio-Thaumaturgy to assess the outcome of crossbreeding with Changelings.
Case: Concluded