Author's Note

So... Not based on a roleplay, really, but I wanted to write something short and sweet.
Here ya go.

Contains: anal sex, cum inflation (mild), excessive body heat, fluff, Futalestia, internal cumshots, masochism (mild), petplay, rough sex, and shower sex.

Tell me which Princess I should feature in the next chapter, if you wanna see more. Feel free to leave critiques in the comments and hit 'dat like button!

That's how popular people sell out, right?

Solar Flares and Sunspots

Spot liked to believe that she was good at her job. It was fulfilling, and kept her ever demanding belly full. Filling the role had come quite naturally to her. It wasn't very different from her previous job.

Incubating had been her career for at least seven years before the Queen came to her with a proposition: leave the Hive behind forever, cease all communication with her family and friends, and never go hungry; or continue with her current job and deny that she was ever offered such a choice.

What little family she had at the time was aloof, disinterested in the admittedly repetitive life of a broodmother, and hadn't reached out to her for years. She'd had friends, of course, but they were... well, she missed them on occasion, but they were understanding when she told them that the Queen had assigned her a special job. They had bid farewells and shared love one final night.

The next morning, she remembers, guards had come, dragged her still waking body from the pile of aromatic friends, and cocooned her. She remembers the feeling, being so wonderfully compressed from all sides by a thick mesh of sticky silk, immobile, aware, but constrained. She looks back on that memory now with a special fondness. She had been removed from her old life, assessed for any illnesses, and sent away.

Perhaps she had fallen asleep before the changeling guards escorting her to her new home were replaced by pony ones. She remembers the stallions' voices, slightly muffled by her cocoon, but distinctly foreign to her then lazy mind. She remembers chirping once, calling out to her escort, and them responding in less than welcoming tones of voice.

She remembers the first light, the walls of her cocoon being breached by the tip of a spear, narrowly missing many an opportunity to pierce her exoskeleton. Her symbolic rebirth was an hour of pride for her. She still remembers the first time her eyes were laid upon the ivory fur of her new 'owner'.

That brilliant fur practically shimmered in the light of the sun to which its hue was credited. It still did, even in the choked light of the shower. Celestia above her, the changeling grunts and chirps with delight as her powerful mistress's hips rock back and forth. The Princess's girthy, throbbing cock plunges deep into the smaller mare's puckered ass, producing dry 'fwop' sounds each time its medial ring is drawn out through Spot's tight pucker.

Spot's tattered wings quiver in the steam laced air adjacent to her shoulders, periodically jumping into a bought of loud, obnoxious buzzing whenever Celestia's flared tip reaches the end of her pet's anal passage. The wet glass squeaks in protest when the burst of wing movement shifts the changeling's chest up slightly, sliding her thick exoskeleton against its surface.

The petite changeling's adnominal plates distend slightly with each upward thrust of Celestia's hips. Spot can feel her sensitive inner flesh squeezed painfully against the inside surface of her three green stomach plates. She whines and whimpers as the rough treatment only escalates.

Teeth hold the corner of Spot's right ear, causing her more pain whenever the hips behind her slide back, allowing her to fall slightly against the clear glass that contains their shower. Her azure eyes roll back in their sockets each time the Princess thrusts again, forcing her medial ring, and a good portion of her rough sheath, back into the poor changeling's ass.

Speaking over the telepathic link they've built, Celestia whispers into her pet's mind, "I'm so close." Her thrusts become noticeably more forceful, and her forehooves begin to slip from the positions she's assigned them on the glass wall: above and to either side of her pet, each approximately a neck's length from the changeling's snout.

Spot's mind fumbles over the message, desperately scrambling to respond in any coherent manner. But her brain is so lost in the act, so distracted by the heat of the moment, that she doesn't respond at all. Her wings buzz, propelling herself down against the upward thrust of the Princess. With a loud yowl, the sphincter separating Spot's anal passage from her centralized stomach is forced open. The mare's hips twitch, and her vibrant blue vulva winks against the glass, before releasing her cum onto the transparent wall.

Celestia bites down harder on the changeling's ear, drawing sweet green blood from her pet. She feels the tip of her cock flaring inside the changeling's stomach, and then grunts through her nostrils.

Thick, virile spunk erupts into the changeling's stomach, eliciting a secondary climax from the smaller mare. She's such a sucker for pain, and the familiar, searing heat of Celestia's seed makes her limbs freeze up. She just remains still, save for the heaving motions of her chest, and enjoys the heat that floods her belly.

Celestia's nostrils flare, and send puffs of light orange smoke onto the changeling's forehead. It rises before it can touch her pet's exoskeleton, still hotter than the air nearing saturation with steam. The alicorn's feathered wings slide between the glass and the changeling, holding her up while the Princess backs away.

Spot, now with her back held to the alicorn's stomach, begins to drool onto the floor of the shower. Her saliva is washed away by the steaming water, of course, but, still, Celestia notices.

With a soft murmur, Celestia sits down against the wall, and replaces her wings with her forelegs, wrapped around the changeling's chest, holding her pet in a sitting position while the water washes over them. She loves the moments like these, the rare occasions when, even after she has spent herself, her thoughts don't immediately return to the busy day ahead, and she can truly relax.

Spot cranes her neck back, and brushes the end of her snout against the warm muscles of the alicorn's chest. Her flat forehead, from which her horn was removed through her own shapeshifting powers, finds a place to rest between Celestia's pectoral muscles, which are more easily distinguished when her fur is matted down with water.

Celestia leans down to meet Spot's lips with her own, and the two close their eyes. Lips do not part, tongues remain still, and heads do not shift about in a passionate battle, but it is a heated kiss. The Princess of the Sun slowly reaches a hoof down her pet's smooth underbelly, until the corner of her hoof finds its way to the changeling's stomach plates. She glides her hoof over the cracks between the three plates, tactility dictating to her brain just how distended Spot's stomach is.

The changeling squirms slightly, releasing muffled sounds of delight and content into the liplock she shares with her mistress.

The alicorn draws back after her hoof has slowly run along the upper crevice three dozen times, and smiles warmly down at the smaller mare.

Spot speaks first, using a calm, sensual voice that tickles Celestia's mind, massages what few nerves she's tensed since her climax, "I missed you."

Rather than remind Celestia of the exhausting trip to Saddle Arabia, the comment further soothes the Princess. She knows the peace of mind that only a changeling's magic can grant her. Spot knows her so well, calculates what areas of her brain to cloud, and, essentially, blocks all sources of stress for a time. Nothing worries her. She knows that she will have to do other things that cause her stress, but she doesn't care, and she doesn't remember any specific items on her agenda for the day.

She just exists separate from her work, perfectly relaxed, and the changeling on her lap sustains that peace. She doesn't remember how long they spend in that position, letting the water run over them, hooves sliding over chitin and lips locking again and again, but it doesn't matter.

There is just the two mares, their embrace, and the running water.