Wake Up

You opened your eyes after what felt like a millennium of intense pleasure. You could feel every fiber of Metamora’s being as she breathed deeply, still laid out against your chest. The two of you had certainly made a mess, with a veritable puddle on the ground beneath you, but that wasn’t the strangest sight. What was more odd was that Metamora was covered in what looked like red glitter. It danced across her body, shimmering and darting as if carried by some unseen current. She looked peaceful, now back to her usual form, but the red dust upon her appeared to be tempestuous, constantly in motion like a rough sea.

“Hey, uh… are you okay?” you asked, almost a whisper. Metamora stirred, slowly raising her head off your chest

“Huh? Where am I? Why do I feel stuck?” she asked, her eyes fluttering open as she reacquainted herself with her surroundings, “Oh… Hey there. You’re, uh… still inside aren’t you?”

You nod.

“Do you want me to get off of you?”

You shrug.

“Yeah, me neither. I think I could stay like this forever. If only it weren’t for that itchy…” she trailed off, “Oh shit! Anon what happened to me?” She looked at her forelegs in disbelief. She flapped her gossamer wings a few beats to liberate herself from you, the sensation of her withdrawing flesh on your overly-sensitive dick made you shudder momentarily. She fluttered in place for a moment and then slowly descended back to the ground beside you.

“I was going to ask that question myself…” you answered, signaling your confusion with another shrug.

“You said purple, right?” she asked, “The spell, it was purple?”

“Well, kind of more red at the end but yeah at first…”

“Red… Do you know what that means?”

“Is it… is it bad?”

“Well, kind of. You see this stuff all over me?” she started, shaking one of her forelegs as if to rid it of the substance. “Well, that’s what love looks like. The kind of love I eat anyway. Of course you can’t see love just in the air, but when we process it you get this red powder looking stuff.”

“So I don’t see why that’s bad. Why don’t you just eat it or whatever it is you do with it.”

“Well that’s the problem. I’m completely full. Not in a just-had-a-big-meal kind of way but in a more straightforward physical sense - my body can’t store any more love right now. And this stuff will cling to me or any other Changeling until it finds an empty host. Normally I couldn’t take in more love than I can process, but the spell… it captured the excess just like it did with my pleasure.”

“Well how do we fix it then?”

“We don’t. Er, I don’t. You’re just going to have to wait it out. Oh also I might get a bit weird here for a while.”

“Why do I have to wait it out? You’ve gotten your fill, right? What do you need me for?”

“P-Please. I’ll be incredibly vulnerable like this. If anything found me here it could kill me without a second thought.”

“Like you had me believe you would do to me?” you countered.

“I-I’m sorry! Just d-don’t leave me. Not yet at least. This wasn’t supposed to happen!”

“What do I get out of it?” you bargain.

“I know the way out of this forest. You’d never make it on your own, especially since you don’t know what’s out here.”

“You make a fair point… What do I have to do?”

“Just whatever you do, don’t let me harvest any more love.”

“So, uh, how do I do that?”

“Well all you need is to make sure you don't-” she froze, “Oh ponyfeathers, it’s starting already.” The red glitter seemed to fade through her chitin and disappear, leaving behind a faint red glow across her entire body.

“See, that wasn’t so bad. It’s all gone.” you motion, "Poof!"

“N-no… It’s just getting-” she began, “just about to, ” she tried again, her expression twisting until the resting fierceness in her face was replaced by a new softness “just wanted to get to know you a little better!” she finished with a completely different voice. It was high-pitched, effervescent, and just the slightest bit grating. “But look at me being silly, I haven’t even introduced myself. I’m Metamora, I’m a really really really good Changeling. I’m so good that Queen Chrysalis herself sent me to Ponyville to spy on one of the pony princesses’ protégés, Twilight Sparkle. And you’re Anon, you told me you’re a ‘human’, whatever that means. I think you look like a weird monkey or a really skinny bear or something. But that doesn’t matter because you love me. And I love you. Oh, Anon, I love you soooooo much.” She finally pauses in her monologuing and grabs for your arm as you pull it away in confusion.

“Hey, what are you doing?” you ask, “What’s going on?”

“Oh, I think I might be love-drunk. It’s a really nice feeling, if that’s what this is. I wouldn’t know - I don’t get to taste so much love usually.”

“Love drunk? You mean you get drunk on what you need to survive?”

“I sure can! In fact all Changelings can. But I’m special, cause I’m not actually what I am.”

You stay silent, trying to tie together some line of conversation here, but not really getting anywhere.

“There’s lotsa different kinds of Changelings. There’s a bunch of boring types that stay at the hive, but there are a few kinds of special Changeling, and I’m one of them. Or actually kind of two of them. Or maybe even neither. I never really know. So when I had my second metamorphosis, I turned in to a Soldier Changeling. Soldiers are built to carry a lot of love, extract it quickly, and use it effectively. But I really really wanted to be an Infiltrator. They’re so much cooler than boring Soldiers. They get to go pretend to be ponies or dragons or gryphons or… and the whole time it’s a big adrenaline rush cause they could figure out you’re a Changeling at any point. So you have to be sneaky and, well… I guess I’m also an Infiltrator, but I’m not s’posed to be. Queen Chrysalis said I was talented enough to be one, even though that’s not what kind of Changeling I am. So here I am! Do you want to see what my disguise looks like?”

“Um…” you hesitate, horribly confused by all of this.

“I figured you might. H-Hold on a sec, I gotta make sure I get all the right parts to this transformation,” she said, twisting in place clumsily before the green flame drew a lazy, organic path over her. In her place stood a light orange colored pony. It looked more masculine than Metamora did, but your thoughts were confirmed when it spoke “Look at me! I’m Atlas. I’m the best geo-lo-bio, bio-geo, geobiologist! Best geobiologist around. T-that means I study why things live where they do. Which makes you a really interesting specimen mister hu-man,” she-he called trying once again to grapple your arm to no success. She stumbled forward and her transformation faltered, shifting her back to her natural form once more.

“Hey, enough with the grabby-grabby. I think you should probably lie down and maybe take a nap or something… You’re saying an awful lot.”

“Because you’re my friend and I want to talk about things and stuff.”

“Metamora,” you began, your tone like a parent calling their child by their full name, “We’ve just met and you don’t even know me.”

“Which is why I know we’re going to be such great friends because even when we just met you were so nice and you fed me and you’re such a gentlecolt. I wish there were more stallions like you, I mean you were kind of mean when you made me change into Chrissy… I-I mean Queen Chrissy… I mean Queen Chrysalis. And then you made me change into a tiny version of her - how lewd! But I kinda liked it, and not cause of all the love but that was nice too, it was kind of exciting to be a naughty Changeling for once.”

“Oh my god…”

“So yeah, where was I. Right! I’m an Infiltrator even though I’m really a Soldier. I’m like a Changeling within a Changeling. Nobody even knows who I really am!” she pauses, her expression turning, “Even me sometimes. I’ve got to wonder why I’m different. Nopony else has ever done that. What if I’m no good at either of them cause I’m trying to be two different things? If I was supposed to be a Soldier then am I a bad Infiltrator?”

A lone tear fell down her cheek as she continued talking.

“Sometimes I think that I was a mistake, that maybe I wasn’t even supposed to metamorphose again. It takes a lot of love from the hive for a second metamorphosis, and I’m wasting all that! I’m such a bad Changeling! What’s wrong with me?” she continued, tears falling more frequently.

“Man, I did not sign up for this,” you grumble, quiet enough that you don’t think she heard, “Hey, It’s okay. I’m sure it’s not all that…”

“Y-you think? S-sorry, I just… sometimes it seems like it’s all bad. But you’re not all bad! You’re fun and exciting and full of love. Hey remember when I told you not to give me more love? Well that was a mistake. Cause if you give me more love I can feel like this for a lot longer and it feels really good too so…”

“No, you’re not thinking straight and you’re not yourself. This is weird.”

“Oh… sorry” she whispered, frowning as your dissatisfaction sunk in, “I really messed up, didn’t I? Huh, I told you all about how I’m a Changeling spy and I showed you my disguise and you could just run to the ponies and tell them everything I said and then I’d have to run back to the hive and they’d surely execute me for such an embarrassing failure!”

“Hey, hold on. Nobody’s executing anybody here. Calm down.”

“What do you mean? Surely you’re going to tell Twilight Sparkle what I said! I’ll never be able to set foot in Ponyville again.”

“Why would I do that? You’ve done nothing to really hurt me, and I don’t see any reason to do something that would hurt you. I don’t know this Twilight Sparkle, but I do know you, and if you’re spying on her there must be a good reason.”

“You really mean it? C-cause here in Equestria acts of kindness to a Changeling are almost as illegal as being a Changeling.”

“Guess I never really did color within the lines. Magical talking pony land probably won’t be the place where I start being normal. So what do you say, I’ll keep the secret that you’re a Changeling, and you can keep the secret that I’m an extraterrestrial sex god with the ability to reduce the fiercest of creatures into a quivering mess.”

“I-I was not a quivering mess!”

“You’re not the fiercest of creatures. Language has not yet invented words for the state to which you were reduced by the power of my dick.”

“T-That’s mean! Just because I came like 20 times more than you did doesn’t mean you can insult me.”

“You win. Everyone does always say ‘If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.’ So I guess I’ll be quiet then.”

“Fine. Me too, you big meanie.”

A second or two passed by.

“Actually, I was thinking. Since we’re good friends and all and you’ve got that dick that, you know, is like really good maybe we could just go at it one more time for old time’s sake. What do you say? Deal?”