Filly Guide Murder: Not A Nice Prank

Doomie lay on his back, the slimy floor of the cave perfectly comfortable for the changeling. What was even more comfortable about his position, was the fact that his pulsing shaft was angled straight upwards and presently ball deep within a very tight and underage pony pussy. He hissed appreciatively, jagged hooves grasping against her cute little hips as he rammed himself into her tiny rape hole.

“So,” Doomie grunted, “They just let you live there? In your true form?”

“Sure,” panted Thorax, “It’s part of the new spying initiative. All I had to do was stagger about the outskirts looking starved, gave puppy dog eyes to the first idiot I saw, and in no time I had ‘em feeling guilty about hating me. Now they wouldn’t blame me for anything, even if they think a changeling did it, because the ‘nice’ changeling that volunteered he was a changeling can’t possibly be a spy, right?” He chuckled. “They didn’t even check to make sure the guy that vouched for me wasn’t also a changeling.”

Thorax took quite a while to get all that out, mostly due to the fact that he was putting all his weight down on the same filly that Doomie was plowing from below, his own wicked, barbed changeling cock inside of her ass, slamming her down against Doomie for Doomie to slam her back up, small wet shivering body feeling amazing between them. He took a break from speaking to lean over and lick the tears from the sobbing filly’s face.

“Are ponies really that stupid?” Doomie panted, between clenched teeth, looking as if he was about to inject that poor filly with enough rape juice to burst.

“They are RIDICULOUSLY stupid,” confirmed Kevin, “They invited me to their wedding, and asked me to be in my true form there because they didn’t think poor widdle Kevin should have to hide who he was. Now the stupid donkeys let me feed on them every time they fuck: as in they don't mind if I stand right next to their bed, even if I'm openly masturbating to them."

The reason that their mutual victim wasn’t screaming much louder was that Kevin was also reaming her remaining hole, her neck bulging grotesquely with his girth, her eyes rolled back as drool and blood trickled down her cheek, gagging violently and looking near death. Her muffled screams felt better vibrating through Kevin’s shaft anyway.

Suddenly though there was a flash of green energy bursting around the little filly, and suddenly the three were pushed outward a bit by the larger form of a female changeling now between them.

“Fucking damn it, Oviduct,” Doomie complained, “I was like ten seconds from creaming filly snatch.”

“Yeah what the fuck?” added Thorax, pulling out of her ass as if she were bread that he just realized was moldy.

“Sorry!” said the female changeling, “Sorry I... it’s really hard to keep your true form when you got three dicks in you.”

“Never bothered me,” grunted Kevin, pulling back, then intentionally jabbing her eye as hard as he could with his dick before dismounting.

“Fuck!” Oviduct covered the one eye, “Why is it always the fucking eye!”

“It doesn’t matter,” groaned Doomie, shoving Oviduct off him, “It’s not the same when they aren’t really underage.” he glanced over to the others, “Hey, what about where you guys are living? Any fillies that wouldn’t be missed too badly?”

“Plenty in Ponyville, though probably not any that wouldn't be missed,” shrugged Kevin, “Actually, there’s a filly guide camping trip in about two weeks. Wouldn’t be too hard to snatch ‘em all up, have our fun, and leave ‘em all either pregnant or rotting.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Thorax rolled his eyes, “Except the Queen won’t want us wasting ‘time and resources’ on something like that, and if we do it without it being approved as a misson, there might be Tartarus to pay.”

“So come up with a way to write it out like it’s a mission,” said Oviduct, blinking her eye as she recovered, “Tell her we’re... sowing distrust among ponies, or something. Just have to word the request properly.”

“Hm, maybe,” Thorax didn’t seem sure.

“Drones are such idiots,” complained Oviduct, “I’ll get us a form, meet me in my room.”

Oviduct’s room wasn’t a slimy cave, it was actually quite well kept in fact. She sat in the middle of a large, plush, heart-shaped bed, reading glasses on and a pen, ink well, and paper form hovering next to her. The form said ‘Support Mission and Mission Planning Form’ across the top.

The three drones sat around her at the corners of the bed, looking fairly bored. They didn’t really have a lot of faith in her plan at this point, and would have all rather been fucking each other on the bed than talking about paperwork. Still, she was a breeding female, and those were smarter than drones, so they were giving it a chance.

“Let’s see,” Oviduct read the form, “Thorax and Kevin work for the Changeling Intelligence Agency, right? So we’ll put CIA for the requesting agency... uh, I’ll put Kevin as the requesting officer since he’s assigned to Ponyville... what’s your cell number and email, Kevin?”

Kevin looked up as if he hadn’t been listening very well, but caught on, “Oh uh... 56-723 and thecrimsonfillyfucker@changeling.gov.”

“Type of mission,” she continued, “Eh... counterintelligence maybe? Sounds right enough. Misson start date I’ll put a week from now, end date a month from now to give us some wiggle room. Alright here we go, description of situation.”

“We want to bang some real fillies,” said Doomie.

“That’s the thing, she’ll never approve this,” complained Thorax. "She'd be all like 'We're not just evil for the sake of being evil like some 80's cartoon villain, we have to have motives' or whatever."

“Oh for crying out loud...” Oviduct growled, “I know you're all just cum storage, but could you at least try to listen? We just have to make it sound more important than it is! I’ll start... ‘As it is our duty to liberate ponies from their oppressive regime, we believe the next logical step is to sow discord between the civilians and Equestrian military. Using the information provided by our new network of spies, we will target common civilian activities while disguised as officers of their military. We will use new memory injection techniques to convince the ponies we impersonated that they themselves actually committed the crimes.”

“Huh,” Kevin sounded a bit more agreeable now, “Might work. Put in that the best way to maximize distrust is to target the civilians that are seen as most vulnerable or innocent in their society, or something.”

“And that we need to have like... a test mission,” added Thorax, “So the Queen doesn’t have to float a big campaign, just a tiny test mission. Wouldn’t cost anything but time to just try once, right?”

“Yeah, but how do we convince her to include us?” asked Doomie, “Thorax is stationed in the Crystal Empire and me and Oviduct aren’t even in the CIA.”

“Well, we could say we need Thorax because we want to include a member of the Crystal Guard as one of the perpetrators, in order to sow distrust between the two empires,” Oviduct said, "And Doomie... you’re familiar with Ponyville because you go there to fuck that talkative pink slut for information sometimes. I mean I’ll word is different, but you’re familiar with the area, right?”

“Not bad,” admitted Doomie, “What about you? Don't they need you here getting fucked and plopping out eggs.”

“I only do that when the Queen doesn’t feel like doing it,” grumbled Oviduct. “I have other responsibilities.”

“Oh yeah,” chuckled Thorax, “You also work for what... the Department of Agriculture?”

“Don’t you see guys? That’s perfect!” Oviduct sounded sharp at their complaining, “I can say I’m following along to test out new food sources. See if I can find a way to feed off terror and disgust, and this mission is the perfect chance to kill two pegasai with one boulder. Not to mention, I've lent help with the new memory injection technique, which is also something we need to test.” She looked at them and grinned sadistically, “So what do you say guys? Sounds like a ticket to some non-artificial foal cunt, am I right?”

The drones looked at her, then at each other, each of them slowly grinning as well.

Chrysalis hated getting bothered when she was at work, and right now she was very much working. She was laying sprawled out against a large rock, eyes rolled back, a random drone atop her, clinging to her ample bottom as he quite violently slammed his barbed cock into her chaffed pussy. She didn’t even bother looking up to see who it was that was sent in anymore. As if that wasn’t enough, she was simultaneously pushing out eggs through her ovipositor which were then carried back to the egg chambers. They had lost too many soldiers in a dispute with another hive, and she had to make more. She didn't like to call on the other egg-laying females too much, she liked to feel like the whole hive was her own children.

“Queen Chrysalis,” whatever drone was fucking her at the moment panted.

“I hope you’re not a talker,” Chrysalis groaned, “You're a cum depot, not a therapist.”

“Hate... to bother you... right now, but there’s a really important mission that my comrade in the CIA needs sort of... rush approval for.”

“Oh for the love of,” moaned Chrysalis, trying to focus her eyes on the form that was floated in front of her face. She skimmed over it, “Dissent... distrust... spy initiative... memory injection tests... oh that, whatever.” She dipped a claw into a puddle of her own greenish blood, and signed the document.

It seemed that Oviduct’s plan to ask Chrysalis when she was ‘distracted’ had been a good one as well. It was really useful being friends with a superior.

Soon, the fun would begin.