Lovesucker

by kalash93

Rating: mature
Tags: Queen Chrysalis, Sex, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Other, Original Character
Length: 7161

Queen Chrysalis loves nothing more than getting some good old fashioned loving.

I am a Changeling. I make ponies feel good. In return, I take their love and their money. I need both to survive, okay? I know what you're thinking, that I'm a vampire or a monster. Oh please, most ponies have more love and money than they know what to do with, and I need both. Is it so wrong to extract it from them?

Published 2017-03-24 09:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2017-04-14 00:20:47 UTC

Who I Am

I am Chrysalis, queen of the Locust hive of the Changelings. I am the lover of a thousand mares, ten thousand stallions, mother to one hundred thousand young, and feared by millions. Some ponies and others know my embrace, but everyone knows my power. I once upon a time even made a mighty pony captain, and a princess's favorite, my thrall, after shutting that pink mule in a cave, of course. For months, I milked him for everything he had. His body felt so good, and I made him feel good, too, as I extracted more than just semen from him. He filled me with love like an unending feast. All night long. Every single night. For months. He made me so strong that when my time came and Celestia herself confronted me, she stood no match against my power.

But alas, we are born by love, made strong by love, and we are destroyed by love.

And love has destroyed me.

Destroyed my hive.

We were defeated at our moment of triumph. And now we are scattered, lost, isolated. I know not where my remaining children are. For a mother, this is unacceptable. At this time, I must assume that they are all dead or captured. Such a shame, I actually liked some of them. No matter, I am alive and have centuries of fertility left. I almost look forward to making them all again. That is the hazard when you have thousands of children and they're not just family but also your advisors, workers, and soldiers. To me, losing a child is as routine as it is for you ponies as finding out a coworker changed jobs or got reassigned elsewhere. It's not that I don't care for my children, it's that I don't get pointlessly sentimental about them. Our lives are dangerous. Changelings die. Crying isn't going to fix that. I have things to see and ponies to do.

Tonight, I take another step toward returning to glory. I have advertised my services as an escort and I have a client soon. Here's to my first meal since the battle. Maybe, if I like him, I'll deign to release some eggs after he's done. Enough talking. Now come on, I need some lovin'...

I make sure my disguise is in place before he gets here. I'm a cute little pegasus mare with the most adorably curly mane, frizzy tail, and huge, turquoise eyes. I've named myself Blue Cirrus. I practice my smile in the mirror. While I'm at it, I make sure that my fangs are hidden. Good thing they are; we Changelings are true carnivores. Yes, we can live off the unending stream of plants that ponies do, but if given a choice, we'll take meat every single time, and the bloodier the better. Perhaps that's why waiting for my client to arrive is getting me so excited? I feel like a cat waiting to pounce on an unsuspecting mouse. Those predatory instincts of mine really get worked up while I'm hunting.

I'm doing my best to look cute but sexy -- unthreatening. I make sure my mane and tail are cute and bouncy. I practice my smile, that stupid smile that stallions find just so charming and irresistible. I put on some lacey, black stockings -- that'll be all I wear; no need to overexcite him. I have a good read on this one already. I had heard his voice on the telephone. He sounded young and nervous. My best is he's probably just at the cusp of stallionhood or perhaps a bit over it, not a lot of experience with mares, and likely not the best-looking guy out there. I am the consummate actress. All of us Changelings are. I am just as much a performer as anything else, and as a performer, I have to know my audience and how to give them what they'll like best. I can be anything from a nerdy filly who fake squeaks in embarrassment at the word horsecock, to the ultimate seductress shaped like a model with the husky voice, and the killer evening gown with the most devilish lingerie. This particular one demands a gentle, unthreatening approach. I bet that I could make him faint with all the blood rushing to his loins if I gave him my very best. My plan is to play it casual but friendly. The stockings will be all the eroticism I display initially; no need to go overboard.

Does it surprise you to find a queen whoring herself out as a prostitute? Fool, I am no pampered pretty pony princess; I am a queen of the Changelings, and I have endured far worse. For now, I am sheltered, warm, fed, and supplied with prey; for me, the living is easy. Keep in mind that we Changelings are not only dependent on love, but we also are a resilient race. We struggle and scrape to survive. Unlike the decadent royals of Canterlot, I was not born into luxury, I don't live in luxury, and I almost certainly won't die in luxury. I was brought up gnawing bones and milking love from our prisoners. From the day I could walk, I learned to hunt. From the day I learned to talk, I learned to deceive. From the day my body could become aroused, I learned to fuck. Those soft equine fools... They call us evil, barbaric, parasitic, uncivilized, callous, and every other word they think is insulting. We may not be sugary sweet, but I would very much like to see them try living like us. It is so easy to be perennially kind and gentle when you live in sheltered bliss, never knowing tough decisions or facing hardships. Once upon a time, there was a word invented to describe Equestria's policy towards us? What was it, you ask? Genocide.

So I manipulate and steal. I need to stay alive. I have my own to take care of. Perhaps if these ponies were as generous as they think they are, we would have no need of all the deception and raids? I have led my hive in hundreds of raids and dozens of battles. I have killed. I have lost comrades. Blood and struggle is our way of life. Does a dragon feel grief for the sheep it must eat? No. Nor do I feel bad for the ponies I slay and those I drain. I feel my blood pump cold as I think about battle again. Blood, so much blood... so hot... it's everywhere, soaking into my skin. Never be clean, never be clean, never be clean! My eyes widen and feel damp. I shake it off.

I still my unstead body by humming a tune, a simple cradle song of comfort, nothing like bones gnawed by teeth. I wipe my eyes and apply some silicone lube to my pussy. I touch myself between my legs. A bit of pleasure arises from this. Sure, I'm lubed up, but I want him to smell my copulance. Besides, I feel just somehow better with a bit of naughty enjoyment blocking out some less pleasant thoughts. The prey is almost upon me.

A knock at the door. I lick my lips. The prey has arrived.

There is a knock at the door.

Author's Note

The first chapter in a short multiparter exploring Queen Chrysalis and Changelings in general. I hope you have enjoyed it so far and will enjoy the next chapter: Who I Do.

Keep calm and brony on. Support me on Patreon.

Kalash93

Who I Do

I sweep for traces of emotions. I detect them on the other side of the door. Apprehension. Nervousness. Excitement. Lust. Shame. Eagerness. Embarrassment. They're all right there. It's a myth that we MUST feed on love; any emotion can do, but the stronger and nicer emotions are certainly better. For example, you can technically survive eating bugs and sawdust, not that you'd want to, especially if you live right next to a bakery and a cafe with a pizza parlor down the street. Same with us and emotions. This must be the guy. "M-miss Cirrus, Blue Cirrus, it's me," comes a shakey, cracking adolescent male voice. I check the peephole. My word, he's even wearing a sweater vest and he's brought me a solid dozen pink and red roses, thorns removed, all without even nibbling a single petal. I feel the impulse to make him wait a little longer -- all the conflicted high emotions storming around his poor poindexter pony brains are like the zesty aroma of a nice salsa, but it's be so much nicer to have him with my lips than just my nose.

I test the slightly nasally voice I'll be using one last time under my breath. It works. "Just a minute," I call back, adding a giggle to the end. Gag me. I open the door and there he is. Dear God, I missed his stupid bowtie through the peephole. he sees me. His eyes go wide. He hesitates, looking up and down at me, gawking like I had two heads. Has he even seen a mare before besides his mother? A pleasant aroma like fresh-baked rye bread wafts over to me from him. Nice, but there's something oddly tart about it. That anxiety is still there. I cant' miss a beat. Ever the consummate actress, I beckon him in with a leg, "Hey, you, come on in, silly; don't just stand there."

But instead of coming in, he takes a knee and kisses my foreleg before announcing his name. "I am Parabolic Trajectory, ma'am. It is a pleasure to meet you." Captain Cringe! I wish those guards had just fucking shot me.

"The pleasure's not yet begun," I laugh, pulling him inside. "Are those flowers for me?" I ask, mock-surprised, pretending to be blown away. For heaven's sake, kid, I'm a whore, not a countess. I take them and lay them upon a convenient table. He comes inside and I shut the door. I ignore his trite reply and just tell him, "You're too kind; you shouldn't have." I pretend to half swoon onto him, brushing a hoof deliberately along his side. He heats up, blushing furiously as our faces almost touch. I could get more intimate, but there's something very important first. "Are you suuuure that's everything you have for me?"

"Oh no, Miss Blue Cirrus," he stutters, pulling an envelope from a pocket.

"Please, just call me Cirrus or Cir; no need to be all formal with little me," I giggle. He's honestly not that bad. He's on time, respectful, clean, and keeping his end of the bargain. "And you wanted two hours with me, yes?"

"Yes, Cirrus."

He's still as wooden as a plank. These are going to be some long two hours if he can't be persuaded to relax. "And what'd'ya like to do? Got anything special in mind? Any special requests? Bondage? Roleplay? Watersports?" He says nothing, only staring at me as his luminous blush deepens, threatening to start emitting light beyond the visible spectrum. Watch it, Chryssy, before you break his brain! I breathe a quick sigh and relax. "You don't know what any of that means, do you?"

"No, Cirrus."

Wow, a total virgin. A bit tart, but this guy's one hundred percent pure as undriven white snow. A tad ashamed and fearful, too. I've taken virgins before, but this one's weird. It's not good; my instincts are making my chitin crawl just a little bit. "How about you get out of those clothes and I'll explain what's on the table? How about that?"

"Sure," he says.

I step over to him, helping him with his bowtie and then his sweater vest. He's tense! i have to dis for a bit more info as I help him. "So, how old are you, handsome?"

"S-sixteen, Blue Cirrus. An- and you?"

Sixteen, huh? I think he's legal, technically. What do I care? I'm just about to be a defining moment in a kid's life is all. "Between you and thirty, but little old me won't tell." He's still like a bundle of stretched bands waiting to snap. I smile to explain, "We're both consenting adults here; you've already paid me for my time. I have a shower, I have a table for massage, I have a bed. My mouth and pussy are on the table for pleasure. Now, three rules. One, if either one of us says stop at any point for any reason, we stop immediately, no questions asked, period. Two, no kissing on the lips. Three, no wearing clothes if they aren't sexy." I wink at him as I finish stripping him out of that dorky ensemble and then prance in front of him with a deliberate swing in my hips. Now that he isn't looking like a dork, I have to admit that he's a yummy boy and in better shape than I'd thought. "Deal?"

"Deal." He's relaxed a bit.

I walk towards the back. "C'mon, follow me..."

"Ma'am, yes ma'am." For the first time, I hear that tasted enthusiasm in his voice. He trots behind me as I lead him to my bedroom, my lair.

We sit down on the bed together. He doesn't touch me, so I lean against him. "Sooo, handsome, what'd you like to do with little old me?"

"I don't know."

Bullshit. At least he isn't asking me to be a telepath like those customers who say something like 'whatever you want' or 'you know'. He doesn't even know how to display his palpable desire; it's adorable. I love virgins for this very reason. Easy to please and done quick. Plus, they're just so cute. I lost my own virginity in less than enviable circumstances, so I like to try for them. "Would you like to have sex?"

He stiffens. "Y-yeah, y-y-ye-yes, pl-please, Cirrus." I lean harder into him and kiss his neck, eliciting an immediate recoiling reaction from him. "B-but can we pleasetakeitslow!!?"

"Gladly." I mean it. Hunger be damned, I'm better than a ravenous sex beast in heat. "Little old me isn't going to make you do anything you don't want to."

"Thank you," he sighs. "Can I just hold you for now, please?"

"Sure you can." And with that, he cracks a smile. I inhale those delectable sweet emotions. That's good... Mmmmm...

His embrace is hesitant yet clingy. He barely touches me, but the parts of me he does touch he clings to me like iron. What in the world is wrong with this young stallion? I pull his forelegs closer around me, from my shoulders to across my barrel. "Don't worry, I don't bite," I soothe and giggle, pushing my back against him. I feel him let out a big breath and then sigh. He nuzzles me between the shoulders.

"Sorry."

"For what?"

"For being so tense." He does have a point. And there's that tartness again. Now, here's something about us Changelings. When we get really close to a pony physically, as in touching, we can gain glimpses into the circumstances surrounding them. I saw red and darkness. I heard the calling of cadances and the barking of commands. I hear some crackings of gunshots. War, could it be?

"It's okay. We're all tense ever since that nasty business at Canterlot." He shivers. Bad move, Chrysalis.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"That's okay; we're here to have fun, anyway." I wriggle my rump against his underside. His body reacts, barely. We lay there on the bed for several more unsexy minutes. I have to save this booking. "Hey, how about a shower to loosen you up?"

"Y-yeah, let's go with that." At least he wasn't a clam content to stay holed up in his shell.

And so I get the shower going. We have an excellent hot water heater, so the water was warm quickly. I get in first and then beckoned him in. The fact we weren't just waiting for him to decide it was time to initiate sex made things so much less awkward. When he gets in, he enjoys the hot water for a bit, seemingly coming to life under it. He smiles genuinely. I smile, too, not that I'm sentimental. Then, he sits down and just closed his eyes. I sit down, too, to match his level. This was nice. He's just sitting there, simply meditating under the artificial waterfall like some sage monk of an old legend. This I can deal with. He turns away from me and then reclined backwards. I rest his head in my lap, staring down at him, smiling.

"Peekaboo!" I chirp as he opens his green eyes. I appreciated the warmth and texture of his body. It is soft, but it also hard and masculine. He laughs. I laugh. I stroke his mane and chest. He reaches up and caresses my face. This is really not all that bad.

Eventually, we have to get to talking again.

To my surprise, he talks first.

"So, where are you from, Cirrus?"

I have an answer for this. "Oh, just some little town in the middle of nowhere nobody's ever heard of."

He cracks a small smile. "I'm from here, but I'm living in Canterlot." Crap. That explains it. And let me guess, he's all freaked out at my little invasion. What does he have to worry about? I'm vanquished and he's alive.

I play it off slyly, "So what brings a big city stallion back to such a small place?"

"I have family here; I went to Canterlot to join the Royal Guard." Double crap.

"So are you talking to a recruiter or what...?" I hope against hope the rising tartness isn't what I think it is.

He laughs hollowly. "Already done; I'm through training -- just here to see my folks for the first time in six months."

"I hope the drill sergeants weren't too hard on you, Trajectory."

He shakes his head. "You get used to it. Just glad to be now, is all."

"So you figured you could use some loving once you finally had some time off?" My body's hunger is insistent; I have to get my meal, and to do that, I had to get him thinking about sex again. I am so selfish sometimes.

He shakes his head again, not looking at me this time. "Cirrus, the truth is, I've never been with a mare before, and during the invasion, I nearly died without even knowing what it was like to be with one." He shakes, 'There I was, a rifle in my hand, blazing away, killing hostiles left and right, rounds going everyone, ponies screaming and dying, complete chaos. I realized there was so much I needed to do, wanted to do, that I may just never get to do." Triple crap. I knew it...

I say nothing, only continuing to stroke his mane under the water. I can see some tears in his eyes. I pretend to not see them. "So why me? Are you sure you want to give you first time to just some prostitute? Little old me ain't the sexiest or best working girl out there. I'm not somepony special."

He thinks about this. "I... I've never had a marefriend or somepony special. You've seen me, I'm the biggest dork like ever." At least he's relaxed and open here, feeling good. "I could try for a one night stand or try to get mare in a bar, but then it'd be just a quick fling while drunk. I don't want to be wasted my first time. I don't want to manipulate some poor filly's feelings to make her spread my legs for me, and I want it to be with someone gentle, caring, patient, a professional. I want to do it with someone who knows what they're doing. I don't want you to love me. I know this is just a paycheck for you, but when I saw your ad, I thought you were the right one for it."

"That's very sweet of you," I smile. I taste a bit of shame in him still.

Now, I usually don't do anything overt with my Changeling powers during seduction on anypony I haven't confounded, but I could take a change on Parabolic Trajectory -- he was like putty in my hooves. And as a virgin, I have a sacred duty to be as good to him as possible. "Anything else you'd like to tell me, Trajectory? Are you sure there's not some other reason why you didn't want to take a risk on some filly?

He crosses his legs and covers his crotch. "I'm worried that... I'mabitsmall" he whimpers.

He's too cute to fuck senseless, almost. I run a hoof down his body. "Parabolic Trajectory, Handsome, I've been with plenty of stallions, and i don't think I've ever had one who was too small. I'm sure whatever you have will feel really good for the both of us." I smile broadly. He blushes again.

"What if I don't know what I'm doing?"

I laugh back, "Nopony does the first time. Don't worry, I'll turn you into a smart stallion. You can't disappoint me, okay." I notice him stirring down there. He's unsheathed.

"Okay."

I grin at him devilishly, pointing out his erection with my eyes. He looks down to it and then back to me. I ask, "Hey, wanna fuck?"

"Sure."

"Follow me. I need some loving..." I shut off the water and we both get out of the shower. We dry each other off, me teasing him with my hooves and towel. This is it, I'm gonna get laid! Finally, I'm going to get that love I need!

He trots ahead of me and sits on the bed. He looks around awkwardly. "Soooooo now what?"

"Let's just touch each other first. I'll teach you how to turn a mare on." I get on the bed with him and wrap him my embrace. I nuzzle him and he nuzzles me back. I rub him with my hoof down his back. I press hard, wanting to provoke a primal reaction in him. He gets the message and pushed on my shoulder blades. Ooh, I like that. I nibble at his neck. A gentle sound of pleasure comes from his mouth. "Lower, I tell him. "Try my front."

To his credit, he takes heed. He touches my barrel gingerly. His hoof travels further down. This is getting good. Then he touches me between the legs. He touches it a few more times experimentally. 'You're wet already?" He tilts his head and gives me this look. The lube is doing the first half of its job.

"Only for you. You're touching me very well." About average, actually. "Harder." He obeys. I let out my first noises of pleasure. These aren't faked. I know my loins will release some juices soon. I touch him back, touching his cock, and stroking it, feeling it harden with every pulse of blood. I begin to sip at his love and arousal. They're like a sweet smoothie just a hint of berry flavor if that helps at all. Now to ease his anxiety. I take a look at his cock. "Oh my, you're that hard for little old me?"

I can feel him blush and stiffen. "Y-yes. It's normal, right?"

"It's perfect," I purr, pushing my head against his chest. It really isn't the biggest or even exactly middling, but it's a nice one -- short and thick. He'll fill me well without painfully stretching my pussy. Here's the truth about really big ones: they HURT! And even sometimes average ones can hurt if the guy goes in too deep and hits something just right. Most stallions have this preoccupation with depth. "I am going to enjoy you oh so very much, handsome." I know, evolutionarily speaking, it's all about breeding and getting the sperm to the egg and all that, but for a mare, all the nerve endings are on the clit or right at the opening -- we'd rather take a thick short one than a thin long one, and perhaps even over a regular medium one. "Hey, mind if I have a taste?"

"N-no."

I don't say anything else as I lower my head and kiss his cock. Then I take it in my mouth and begin to suck him with my mouth, working my lips and tongue around him. I take him all the way in. While I've eliminated my gag reflex, having a dick down your trachea is still far from pleasant. As I do this, I touch myself, feeling some pleasure for myself. The lucky boy is basking in pleasure. I hum to add vibration and make it feel even better for him. Soon, he is fully hard and my pussy is wet enough to make noises. Such lewd, sloppy noises. I'm so obscene! I need to be mated. I can get sustenance from oral, but nothing beats him cumming in my pussy. I have to get fucked now or I'll go insane. If he doesn't take me soon, I'll take him until he passes out! Be fair to me -- I actually physically need this to stay alive, and It's been the better part of a month since my last meal for fuck's sake! My inner huntress screams this at me, but I fight it down. If I try to just snatch it all now, I'll get a lot less plus likely lose out on a repeat customer.

"Do you like this?"

"Oh yes, very much." Truth be told, he's not doing too badly. I could teach him more, but then I reckon we've probably burnt a pretty good amount of our time already, so we'd best get on to the main event. I headbutt him hard enough to get his attention. "I want you inside me. His blush could ignite the atmosphere. I feel how hard he is, ready to burst, practically.

:"Oh, fuck..." He gets off the bed and gets behind me. We are going to mate the traditional way. I assume the position, my face down and my ass up. "Wowww... You're so beautiful. Can I really? Is it okay?"

"MMhmm." I shake my ass at him invitingly. I assume a Lordosis Posture, putting my erotic training to good use. i am playing with his instincts to get what I want. We Changelings don't have anything like that posture, or as shows up in ponies and other mammals, the ass up pose. We evolved alongside ponies, but we don't technically need them to breed -- our sex is as mechanical and pleasureless as a drone releasing some sperm over eggs like a fish. It can be internal or external, but, unlike these ponies, we do not make love, we only procreate. Right now, I am doing my best to get Trajectory to get around ideas of romance or lovemaking in favor of something more primal and instinctual. I need him to be an animal. I am manipulating this poor lad to want me, to be unable to even consider backing down or rejecting me. He is prey, nothing more. "You don't have to do it with little old me if you don't want to." I'm running out of patience, turned on and horny as I am. "Trajectory, I want you. This is all about you.. What do you want?"

A long silence. I look silly like this. i fight against my predatory instincts. He is getting irresistible with all his storming emotions, all trumped by lust and love. If he won't fuck me, I'll lose control and fuck him dry! "I want you, Cirrus," he says, putting his front legs around my barrel. His dick rubs against my underside. I'm so excited. He rubs against my entrance and underside, always missing.

I tell him with a giggle, "It's higher than you think. Now come one and love me." As if he had been lead to make any other decision.

"Heheh, sorry." And with that, he adjusts his aim and finds my pussy. He slides in slowly. Oh shit, he is HARD! Holy shit, I'm more soaked than I realize, and that's with the lube doing the second half of its job. He trembles as he takes me, his first mare, in excitement. I tremble as I take this colt for the first time in hunger. "OOOH my..." Trajectory sighs as he slowly hilts inside me. I feel so full, so good. "Does this feel good?"

"Yeah." His voice is trembling So cute. Our hips move. He emotionally blossoms. All that anxiety and stress is washing away, being replaced by blissful, loving feelings. I begin to drink at them. Then that feeling I talked about earlier where we can learn about ponies through intimate contact returns. I get flashes and visions. I put my body on autopilot, gently making love to him as they assail my name.

It really is as he said. I see down the sights of a rifle. I hear gunshots. I see the dead. He opens fire on some of my drones. They crumple. He is discharging his fear and pain into me. He fires on a large Changeling -- I realize this is me. Once he tried to kill me, now he is loving me with his body. Oddly, there is there joy in it. I now realize what that tartness is. This boy is a killer. He's not a developed killer yet, but he is certainly a killer. I can sense his destiny. If he lives, perhaps hundreds will meet their end to his gun and his blade. He will marry one day -- he is strong and will do well in the guard, thus attracting mares who will want to be his bride. He will copulate with them like he is now with me. He will impregnate them. They will bear his children. And his children, some of them, will want to be just like their daddy. They will be killers, too. Perhaps I should kill him? No... I can't, it's too dangerous and too much bad business. But there is something he can give me: strong seed. My eggs have not been forgotten, and as a queen, if I find myself without minions, then I am to use my body to create more. And this stallion... All that dorkiness, all that gentlecoltly behavior, it's all ultimately a veneer. His true character is more like mine than I care to admit. He just doesn't know it yet.

His thick dick inside me feels good. I touch myself vigorously. Pleasure mounts. Euphoria is streaming from him. I drink deeply. His thrusts are irregular and uncoordinated. He keeps slipping out, apologizing every time, but I take no heed. I'm matching his rhythm to mine. I can tell his pleasure is building. My hips are beginning to tremble, too.

He gets harder. I get wetter. He is clenching onto me. He pants. He's going as deep as he can.

"I want you to cum inside me," I encourage. "It's okay, cum inside me. Let it all out. Make me your mare."

He groans, "CIrrus, I-"

"Cum inside me!"

He hilts and squeals, "Fuck!"

I don't cum, but I milk him, making lusty noises as I do so. I feel his dick twitch and tremble as he empties all his balls and heart into me. YES! This is what I need! Yes yes yes yes yes! More filling than the flesh of a thousand carcasses! He bites down on the back of my neck to stop himself from screaming. "Yes, give it to me. I want it all. Don't stop!"

He carries on for almost a minute before collapsing off me, pulling out and falling to the bed totally spent. Fluids leak onto us and the sheets, but oh well. "That was... Wooooowww..." I embrace him.

"Wonderful..." I sigh nuzzling him.

"Yeeeaaaaaahh..." He goes a bit silent. I hold him as he presses against me and takes a quick nap. I am over the moon in happiness, finally having a proper meal. I let him sleep for a while. So cute. So troubling, too. I nuzzle him awake. "Thank you," he says blearily.

"The pleasure's all mine," I grin. We hold each other. "Will I see you again?"

"Yeeaaah. Every chance I get, Cir." I taste his feelings. He means it. He looks like he just realized something. "Is it time to go?"

"Sadly, yes. How does it feel to be a stallion?" I almost say killer, but I bite my tongue.

"I don't know. Awesome, I think."

I giggle. "Well, if you want to feel some more like a stallion, just come see little old me again." I wink at him. He blushes. Still cute.

We rise off the bed and take a quick shower. We don't have time to meditate again under the water. Shame. He puts on his dorky sweatervest and cringey bowtie. "I'll see you later again, Miss Cirrus."

"I can't wait," I chirp back with the inflection of a lusty growl.

"Goodbye."

"Buh-bye," I wave as I show him out and shut the door. I collapse. That was intense. And those visions. And that destiny. I need a drink. As I retreat to the bedroom again to retire with no further appointments, I judge his seed. It's strong. The stallion who gave it to me has what I'll need in servants. And with that, I give some to my eggs. To think just days ago, he and his kind had tried to kill me. And to think we'd tried the same to them. And such a great irony that in all likelihood, his children will grow to harvest and kill ponies despite being conceived with a stallion's love and seed. Our offspring will be fated to battle until the end of time, as it is now, as it has always been. This little one's quest for pleasure will in the end reap back blood and pain.

Grow strong, little ones. Momma needs you.

And this I begin my crawl from rock bottom.

Why do I so badly need a drink?

Author's Note

Thanks for reading again. I had fun writing this. If you have any feedback, please give it. Tune in next time for What I Do.

Keep calm and brony on. Support me on Patreon.

Kalash93

A big special thanks to SPark for Ember's, a far better and much less depressing fic that gave me the idea that turned into this one. Go give her some much-deserved attention.

For Whom I Do

I love my children. As I relax, the cute little grubs are crawling all over me, bounties from my last harvest of seed. It's like being covered in a pile of chitinous kittens. My hormones give me a surge of love and I use it to feed my young. They're going to need lots of love to grow up strong and crafty. And I'll need lots of love to get them there. After all, it's going to be some years before they can operate in pony society successfully without being found out and brutally murdered. I let out a sigh on one little grub, cuter than the rest. "Thorax..." I sigh, feeling the special glow that comes with meeting ones new young. The little thing chirps happily at this. I think my hive will have a fantastic infiltrator in the future.

Seconds out of the egg and they crawled towards me, instinctively seeking their mother. I guess that's one way we are like the ponies -- we all loved our mothers, only we love our mothers to death.

I roll onto my back and play with them, enjoying the moment. Much uncertainty and fear has surrounded their making. Their father almost killed me. I made a mental note to keep pillow talk to a minimum in the future so that the afterglow of orgasm would not so lessen my guard. What did I care? He was in the ground and I had escaped. Him and his wife both. I had tried to capture them, but, despite him going down before he even knew what was happening, she put up a struggle and didn't quite survive being taken in. A pity, I could have used both for their love. I just had to be in his wife's shape when I asked a stupid question about Applejack. Maybe someday I'll bring the hive round for another one of their supposedly famous family reunions. Oh, the love I could harvest from those...

Would I ever tell my children about their father? Of course not. They didn't need to know who he was or what happened to him. All that mattered was their mother, the one who gave them life, and for whom they would give their lives.

Although my heart is hard and cold, holding my newborn children, I smile for real. I love them so much!

I wake up. My face is wet. Funny thing that. Why is water leaking from my eyes? My head hurts a bit, but I stumble into the bathroom. I take some ibuprofen and retrieve the booze from my nightstand. I take three big gulps. The burning liquid sloshes its way down my throat and into my stomach. Soon, I feel the intoxication take hold. I drink again, this time for my children who aren't here.

My abdomen feels not quite the same as ever. It's now slightly swollen -- not yet too big as of this moment, but it will be. My body is telling me that Parabolic Trajectory's seed has taken root inside me. Good kid. Cute kid. Stupid kid. Vicious kid. Unknowing father. He shall never know what his brief bout of pleasure has wrought. This may sound wrong and alien to ponies, but, to us changelings, fathers matter as much as fallen pine needles. Odds are if a pony has ever found themselves seduced by an irresistible stranger or patronized a prostitute, odds are not inconsiderate they've done it with a changeling, and perhaps may even have fathered some changeling spawn. Indeed, it has been more than two weeks since our mating and I have lain with more than a dozen other ponies. Soon, it will be time for me to lay my eggs. Poor nymphs, they will be born to serve me, and they will die in my service.

I go back into the bathroom to splash some water on my face. Its coolness grounds me back in reality. I have no family to speak of. For a changeling, this is unheard of. It's all the fault of those ponies! I slam my hoof down on the countertop. I turn the lights on with my horn and look into the mirror. I see my face, black as ever. In these moments, I swear that my more jagged features as softened, perhaps just by a trick of the light. My lips curl downwards. I can see my mother's gently rounded features. I grit my teeth. What would she do?

Really, what would she do?

Take it out on somepony, of course. If not some drone, then some captive, and if I were around, then me. I shivered. Then I smirked. She hadn't been able to push me around forever. In the end, i had challenged her for the hive and won, as was our way.

But that doesn't solve my conundrum. Fuck it, my head is so full! I need some release...

I return to the bed and lay on my back. Then, I bring my hoof down between my legs and begin to rub. I brush my clit, getting some initial sparks of pleasure as I touch it lightly to build sensitivity. I feel myself grow wetter down there and rub the whole length on my foreleg along my slit. My body twitches in response. I let out my first little gasp of pleasure as I intensify the circling motions around my clit. I The fire of arousal is now blazing within me. My pussy is making such naughty, juicy noises. How my body needs this! I feel stress peeling off me as I enjoy the feelings from between my legs wholly by myself for myself -- no business or plan involved other than feeling good. There is no grudgingly accepted organ between my legs -- as much as I love intercourse, I haven't really been in the mood since the wedding -- disastrous strategic blunders tend to ruin ones libido. The pleasure is building from a tingle to a buzz. Oh how I've missed this without even knowing it. I squirm a little to get a better angle on my clit and vulva as I switch hooves. My hoof traces a long, delicious curve around the base of my clit. I open my mouth and moan.

The pleasure is starting to get the better of me and I can't stop as I just eat up the joyous sensations pouring from between my legs. Harder and faster I go. I dirty talk myself, spurring myself on to greater heights. "Faster, you dirty bitch, let me hear you moan. Make yourself cum... I want to see you lose control for me... show me you can."

A few more minutes of frantic, sweaty touching do the trick.

My legs start to buckle. My breathing is crazy and my heart pounding like a thunderous drum. I'm gasping and panting in carnal delight. Just a little more... I feel an incandescent bolt of pleasure shoot through me... so sensitive. I- I'm- oh fuck! Ahahhhhh! YES! I'm cumming! I'm cumming! OOOOHHH! FuUuuUUUck! Primal bliss surges throughout my entire body. I let out a high scream of pleasure as my climax rocks me to my core. I write in beautiful agony, making nameless sounds. In this moment, I am nothing but a bitch in heat and I love it! White flashes splash across my vision. I flick the tip of my sensitive clit, sending myself into hysterics. M y release is colossal, unstoppable! Oooh Yesyesyesyes! More, I need more! I gasp and shudder, riding out my orgasm until, at last, I collapse in a satisfied heap.

Oh, wow, that was good. I needed that. I can think clearly now...

A plan forms in my head. I know just what to do now.

And what do you know, mother was right -- a good orgasm can unclog the tubes down there and up top.

Author's Note

Thanks for reading! As always, if you have anything to say, please post it. I apologize for taking so long with this chapter. There'll be proper sex in the next one. I hope you enjoyed reading this.

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Kalash93