Dawn came over the bleak landscape after a long and cold night, scarcely illuminating the world of dust and dreary barren wastes below it. The land was mostly flat, with a small rock poking up here or a blade or two of dull-green grass there. It was a world of endless nothing, yet one object of interest did dwell here, hidden away as it seemed, as it had for countless millennia. What overlooked this land, like a single monstrous mountain of darkness amidst a submissive desert, was a great tower of black rock.
Within that dust, upon that barren ground and in front of that obsidian tower, a lone figure of white fur and blue mane stood. Clad in master-forged royal armor colored a regal purple, and wielding her gilded warhammer, was one Magna Bellatrix.
Long had she, a unicorn of Equestria, journeyed over harshest terrain, chasing after the visions in her dreams first felt in her home, so far away and comfortable in comparison to this foreign place. And now, here she was. The thing in her dreams that she saw most frequently -- a titanic citadel of black rock, sticking out like a sore hoof from this land of bleakest brown and grey.
Magna poked back the top of her crested helm a tad to get a better look at the thing where it rose to. It stretched higher than the living cloud of the dust storm that enshrouded it, but faintly the beginnings of a jagged peak could be witnessed. Meanwhile, at its base, but a single, tall opening was visible. A sinister cold breathed out from the entrance, as though inviting outsiders in, if solely to seal their doom.
Indeed, this place looked wicked, terrible, and the appropriate vibe it gave off was one Magna Bellatrix had never before felt. It was fitting that she entered it immediately, giddy at the prospect of what might lay within. At once she was greeted by a long, tall and lightless passage, and without fail she strode down it.
The passage went on forever, or so it seemed. Minutes passed. And then more. And more. Slowly, Magna grew more used to the off feeling abound in this place, and her steadying nerves brought about simple, agonizing boredom. She tried to sate it by looking to the smooth walls on either side of her, or else looking up at the stalactites pointing downward from the ceiling high above.
Finally, the end of the corridor came into sight. At once Magna broke into a trot, coming to a large, open chamber now. almost as a throne might be, its foundations and twisted by a very non-pony design.
And there, far in the back and atop that twisted throne, sat a lone figure. It was clearly not something that she was merely mistaking for being a living thing, it was too... pony-shaped. Pony-shaped, and, much like her as a unicorn, had what seemed to be a horn -- a long, crooked horn -- pointing up from its head.
"Hello?" Magna called out to it first in her rasping voice, hoping to receive and answer before attempting anything rash. The silhouette did not answer, but it clearly stood up from its throne. Then it began moving down its throne's steps and onto the floor, in the direction of Magna.
The being steadily showed itself the further along it came. Its eyes were the first things that became clear. The eyes themselves, situated with their dark sockets, were like two orbs aglow with a fell green color. The arcane energies they gave off were something dark, something unnatural...
To go against those fell eyes, the creature's flesh, his flesh, was purely ebon in its texture. What little light there was in this room showed off of it in a vivid sheen. Magna's eyes squinted. Upon a closer examination, that flesh of his was... chitinous. Black and chitinous and reflective all the same. He wore no armor, save that exoskeletal skin, and a set of transparent wings that rested on his shelled back. His face, dwelling beneath his gnarled horn and amidst a webbed mane of sorts, resembled that of a pony's, in spite of being a chitin-covered thing. And yet, in its own way, it was somehow a shapely visage. It was... almost ethereal in its queer beauty.
This was no pony. That fact, and the others, only fueled Magna's thirst to know just what manner of being this was. "Who are you?" she questioned first because of it, naturally.
"The king of this place, and sole ruler of this land you have waded through," he replied, after only a few more quiet seconds of sauntering closer to his visitor. His tone was a deep, smooth, otherworldly thing; it felt like a cold yet gentle hooftip, carefully stroking over her ears and her soul in equal measure. "I have waited a long time to meet you, Magna Bellatrix."
Magna blinked. "You know who I am?:
"I know all about you, my dear," he softly said.
Magna only huffed. "I... see my reputation precedes me."
This apparent "king" let his lips pull back, revealing a smile of white fangs. "Indeed it does. You have much to be proud of, given your many feats of valor and might."
He continued pacing toward her. Magna kept her eyes trained on him as he moved and prattled on, realizing while doing so that his was a figure that stood a few proud feet taller than her. "You have won countless battles and many wars for your dear princess and fellow ponies. You have beaten down fearsome and horrifying beasts that have brought low so many others on their own. They say a thousand princes, kings and lords from over a hundred lands have asked for your hoof in marriage, but you cast down them all without batting an eyelash."
"Okay, on that last one, there were only fifty-two," corrected Magna, smirking. The creature merely snickered back.
"Then make it fifty-three, my pretty gem." The dark king raised a chitinous, hole-filled foreleg, the motion reminiscent of a kindly beckoning gesture before a ballroom dance betwixt two participants. "Your hoof coming with mine is the chiefest reason why I guided you here, into my humble home and before me."
Only just managing to hold herself back from puffing out a hearty snigger, Magna nearly laughed at those words. "You? I think not; on your paltry offer, and on that claim."
"Oh, but I assure you, it was indeed I who did so. You were so far away once, and now you're right here, all according to my design."
"No," denied Magna again, now grimacing. "I came here because of the visions that came to me in my dreams. My own princess told me they were sent from the Goddess-"
"They were from me, I'm afraid to say," sighed the creature. As much as she disliked to admit it, Magna could detect no trace of untruth in his voice. Or in what words that followed. "A long, grand journey was what you were shown. A dead land, a tall and strange structure at its end... I alone promised you these sights, and many others, and they all came to pass. Well... all but one."
"And that one would be...?"
"Something that will at last sate the fantastic desire that as of now eternally gnaws at your very essence." His brow fell and his posture rose haughtily. "I will take you on as my mate, and you will take me on as yours. You will become my queen and consort, and as such, you will find that what pleasures I shall share will satisfy you forevermore. That is the destiny fate holds for both of us, and one I have been patiently waiting to fulfill for many eons."
The warrior mare's helmed head tilted. "Are you... are you real?"
He nodded. "Very much so, as you can see."
Magna sneered and hoisted her hammer into a better part of her grasp. "Yes, 'very much so' now. But for much longer? Hmm..." Her head shook and her cheeks puffed out. "Not so much, I'm afraid."
The "king" only hummed and smiled. His gnarled horn glowed green for a brief instant, and his form dissipated. With that and the image of kicked-up dust settling where he was just standing, he was gone.
Magna's head reeled back. Blinking thrice, her eyes moved rapidly about, searching for the creature wherever he had vanished to, until an almost instinctive chill crawled up her spine. Yes, Magna felt his presence looming behind her now. The idea of allowing him to simply strut up to her and land the first blow of this bout provoked her to act first.
In response to this pitiful 'king's' attempt to strike at her with so cheap a tactic, she started to spin about with the intent to deliver a heavy blow against him with her mighty hammer, and do so with a smile on her face. That image, though, of her surefire victory in one broad stroke, was cut short. She felt something, a sudden flash of pain, a vivid sting, come about from her neck.
"Ack!" Magna hissed, forgetting her attack in that instant and opting instead to jump back and away. He view spun immediately to the shadowy entity. He was standing right there where the unicorn had leapt away from, and he was looking at her through the webbed mane that had been, if for a brief moment, swept over the fore of his face with his preternaturally swift bout of movement. Shimmering through those many strands while they fall back into place around his neck, his eyes were cracked to simple lids, the green glow filling them now more sinister than ever.
Magna lifted her free forehoof to feel her neck, and the most her touch could detect with the limited feeling it possessed was a slight pain still lingering there. "What... what was that?" she demanded to know, moving the hoof from her surely minuscule injury and stomping it to the floor of this cavern.
The creature replied by opening his abyssal maw, showing that a pair of extremities that had distended from its roof. They were... they were fangs, crooked and long, a clear substance dripping at their sharp tips.
"Venom, of my own design," he almost casually revealed, retracting the appendages and closing his mouth to an easy, sharp and pearly-toothed smile. "A simple little injection, my future consort. A meager dosage it might have been, but I assure you, it will be more than enough to fulfill its intended purpose."
A realization dawning over her the moment she heard him utter the v-word, the stubborn, weary mare's brow crinkled with a budding fury. "And what, pray tell, would that purpose be?"
"Many things, my dear. One such example is that it will aid in fulfilling your dearest wish..."
Magna would have none of that. She bellowed, she charged, and she lunged. The being had swiftly sidestepped her, fluently moving away like the jagged shadow he resembled by the time her hammer came crashing down, breaking through black stone and leaving a great crater.
"But first," the creature again spoke up, "it ensures that your reaction time will become exceedingly... slowed."
White-hot anger had consumed the mare now, and scarcely had Magna heeded her more common senses when it was unleashed. "Damn you!" she screamed, the warhammer flying out of her hooves as she sent it at him like a comet of gilded metal. With a touch of magic from her horn to bear it, this sort of attack she learned had been known to barrel through and crush whole regiments of enemy soldiers or outright kill towering monsters when aimed at their ugly heads, as she now aimed at for this fiend. However, the one flaw that could screw up this attack presented itself; the halo of purple magics that guided the weapon suddenly dissipated. It flew away on its own, smashing to the ground a clear several feet from its intended target.
Magna blinked her blue eyes in disbelief, and the moment they reopened, the figure was standing not two feet in front of her. Without even taking the second to see what smug expression he was now wearing, she reacted accordingly.
Magna took a powerful swipe at entity, her punches well known for how many jaws of her past challengers that had been broken by their lightning-fast impacts. It missed by a mile. Undeterred and more enraged than ever, she sent another hoof his way, but this one he caught in his own.
Unable to wrench it free, Magna looked up at her hated foe with eyes begat by a blurring sight, a numb feeling overpowering every one of her other senses. He was looking down at her, grinning in turn. Biting her lip and grunting, she tried pulling her hoof out of his grip, and only after he let go of it of his own free will did it return to her side.
The spot on the side of her neck where this being's cruel fangs had penetrated into her flesh still stung, but the agony was barely a sour thought compared to her lurking dread. This... this venom had taken its hold on her, and its reach was only increasing. She would be rendered unconscious in a minute, maybe two if she was lucky.
And if she fell unconscious and at the mercy of this abominable thing, then... then...
"No... no!" she roared, if only just, her throat and voice strained and hoarse. She attempted one last step forward, one last defiant move against this wicked creature that was now cackling at her; mocking her vain efforts. And then, like a tower with its foundations crippled, she collapsed. Cold hooves caught her instead of the icy floor, and the figure they belonged to held her still in a light embrace as the venom overwhelmed the mare. Her purple helm slipped from her head, clattering to the ground while her blue mane sprawled out and dangled.
Panic, a foe Magna had not faced in some time, overcame her. Erratic images of fear etched their way around her brain; they were fears about this venom, about this fiend that had delivered it, about what was going to happen to her. when she felt the last of the control she still held over her succumbing body leave her. Her will to fight was dulled and mellowed, and her strength finally faltered and failed.
But this entity, this alien entity of black, insidious magics was there with her, still holding her limp form in his gentle hooves. "Sleep now, my bride. Sleep now, my queen," he whispered into her ear so softly, so lovingly. "Dream of things that make your sweet soul flutter. Dream of things still yet to come. Soon you shall again awaken. And when you awaken, all your wants and desires shall be sated at long last..."
The last thing the great and indomitable Magna Bellatrix could remember before a cold and creeping darkness took her was a smile; a pearly white smile, and two lax and loving eyes gazing down upon her, a malevolent, lusting green energy seeping from their edges like a cool, encroaching mist...
The Black King's Proposal
Magna Bellatrix awoke from dreamless slumber to an unfathomably weary and sore sensation and an exceptionally dark room.
At least, it was dark at first. Only strong enough to move her eyes when her mind returned to her, they adjusted soon enough. When they did she found herself in the direct center of this... massive lair. Inward-curving, cornerless walls of non-euclidean design stood far away, scant portions of it alight with a glowing substance she detected was a luminescent fungus of sorts, ranging from faraway base to ceiling high above. Before that, she realized she was laying upon something warm and soft -- a great bed? Yes, it was a bed... and her form, all of her armor gone from it -- stripped from her and taken, most likely -- was wrapped up in silken purple sheets, covered away from a faint coldness that even her fur would easily ward off, while her crown rested upon a pillow.
It was strange and made no sense to the half-awake mare, whose mind was still redeveloping what it had learned in the hours before she ended up like this. Magna's cheek nuzzled against the pillow it was on, unable to say it didn't feel superbly comfortable...
"Awake at last, my dear?" then came a familiar voice
Magna's head spun to her right as soon as she processed the sound, ignoring the sleepy soreness that told her not to turn her body so recklessly. There... there she saw him, and recognized who he was right off. The near-spectral figure of that gnarled-horned creature, with fell magics and a body like that of the unholy amalgamation of pony and insect. The creature her fuzzy memory, now flashing before her, told her had bitten her, had rendered her unconscious in their short fight and surely brought her wherever this place was. And he was laying there next to her. He was a good few feet away from her on this massive bed, and he was grinning a foul, also familiar grin of white teeth.
"You... s-s-son of a..." came Magna's semi-guttural growl. She tried pawing a hoof in his direction, but it was slow and came up a few feet short regardless.
"Easy now, easy," beseeched the creature, before he sniggered. His otherworldly eyes became alight with a look of simple humor. "You just woke up. You've yet to get out on the wrong side of the bed, so I don't think that gives you the right to act like this until then, heh."
The entity's childish jest was a pebble thrown against Magna's cranium. I'll show you the wrong side of the bed, you stupid, pretentious... A dull, but rising fury filled the pony. She tried moving her limbs to lift herself up, their joints crackling as animation took them. Alas, she felt far too groggy still to pounce upon him and beat that smarmy tone (and his smug expression, for that matter) to a bloody paste. Unable to even get up yet, the most she could come up with was a low, drowsy croak of "Fffffuck you."
He smirked, part of his lip peeling back to show his sharp teeth. "I would like to think that we'll be getting to that shortly, my queen."
"Stop... calling me that. Stop it with those names, with that... taunting..." Magna murmured, her tone far grumpier in its pitch than hateful as she was going for.
The creature blinked. His head tilted into the pillow, a brow lowering into a confused mien. "Why? Does it offend you?"
The mare's nose wrinkled. "You know why, you... you..."
"Changeling," he quickly finished for her. "I am a changeling; the first, and as of this moment, last to live in this old world. And my name is Mávros Vasiliás."
"The... ffffuck's a changeling?" Magna shook her head and lifted it from where it lay. Using a hoof, she was able to prop herself up a small ways.
"Many things, both in a figurative and somewhat literal sense," Mávros Vasiliás smiled, almost like he was admiring some sort of queer beauty in her stubborn fury, even in its current, dulled form. "Ever since the earth spat me out and gave me life, I have lived alone in this land, waiting for so many hundreds of years that I've nearly lost count. I was waiting all that time for you, you know."
"For... me?" Misunderstanding now joined Magna's expression of hostility. Sluggish as her motions were, she was now sitting up fully, while the so-called changeling remained reclined. "Why?"
"Because," he said so softly, "it is a fate I choose to enact. The story behind my reasoning is long, I must admit, going as far back as my first memory. You may not wish hear it in its entirety..."
Magna stayed her rage just long enough to make full sense of his words. With the knowledge of her body still recovering, a cunning thought about stalling him with his life story until that moment came to her in one deft second, and more than a little help from her blooming curiosity, Magna spoke, though not to insult him. "I'd think that I would be here for a while, given where I am and what you've done to me..."
So from where he lay, Mávros told Magna a story. He told her in vivid detail of how his first memory was waking up in the middle of these wastes as a frail, young creature, in front of a haggard old tree of gnarled black bark that he had apparently emerged from. He learned on his own how to survive, and considered the tree not simply to be a shelter of his, but his parent, in spite of its inanimate qualities.
But that didn't last, it seemed. The tree soon died. His tone gaining a noticeably sullen texture to its pitch, Mávros told Magna next of how he was left alone under its withered husk, capable but still learning of the world's intricacies around him. And then he made mention of the monstrous, towering predators that inhabited the land during that dark time...
No sooner had he left on that macabre note, Mávros snapped back to his merry mien as his tale came to what the mare sensed was its conclusion. "So, surrounded by foes and trapped in the center of this barren land, I chose to wait. I chose to patiently wait until a day would come when one with a spirit of rare and exquisite worth come into this world, that I might bring them here to live alongside me. As the years slowly drifted by, I trained myself in the magics I found that was birthed with, to make that dream a reality. With this power of my own learning honed, I finally fought off those that would see me devoured, and constructed this great testament to my desires and self-born strength, this tower of black rock hoisted from the furthest depths of the earth, to house myself."
He let out a grand laugh of triumph, long and proud. Captivated in a way by all she had heard, Magna blinked and looked to Mávros. Her body and stamina was feeling much better and more refreshed with her mind fully awoken from the minutes that transpired, but she was still not yet willing to move. "Huh. That's... quite a story."
"Story? 'Tis barely a tale at all, compared to your many grand escapades," he complimented, crawling carefully her way a few feet along the bed. "While I brought the fight to mighty beasts merely out of a desire to protect myself and carve out a territory of my own, you actively sought out perilous thrills, be the reasons for doing so selfish or otherwise. For what little time you have lived on this earth compared to me, you have done so much. For that, and more, you are in every single fathomable way a truly beautiful creature in my eyes, Magna Bellatrix. So strong of will, so courageous of mind, so adamant to see all that would threaten you or your dear ones fall beneath your hoof and magic and be crushed to dust..."
Rising slowly and furtively from the changeling's side, a chitinous hoof came up to Magna and softly touched her breast. With one motion, the changeling carefully pushed her back down upon the mattress until her head once more touched the pillow. For what Mávros was so blatantly doing, Magna only allowed him to go through with it. She felt no urge to fight him, not yet. Something about this whole display was full of a queer temptation she could not ignore.
While Magna lay there looking anxiously up to the changeling, Mávros Vasiliás face grew closer to hers. The closer he grew, the more the pony felt a peculiar warmth building in her chest; building and spreading to other parts of her body. She drank deep of his fell eyes, soaked so richly in dark and alien energies. Their pupils were like thin slits, a faraway abyss, waiting for some poor fool to fall into and become forever lost within them.
As Magna saw the allure in his eyes, Mávros could easily see the distrusting host of emotions glimmering in her own. "Please, my beautiful consort, let not worry and fret cloud your mind. You have, after all, seen and done battle with many ungodly horrors without giving way to terror," he implored in a mellow whisper. "You know in your beating heart that I do not seek to harm you. No, what I offer you is a treat... one of unparalleled divinity. And we have so much time to savor it together, you and I..."
He closed the space between them, and their lips met in a soft motion. The moment he moved in to perform the kiss, Magna's rage returned suddenly, as though the spell she was under briefly lost its charm, and it was set to boiling. She tried summing up her rage, to hit him away for deigning to steal away this kiss in so daring and flagrant a move. But no sooner had this anger came about her... Magna paused. What hindered her retaliation was something about this kiss... something in it was perverting her oral senses, touching it in... in all the right places.
It was... sweet. More than sweet, it was... it was... it was...
Oh... oh, the heavenly ambrosia that were his lips. It was like delicious nectar that had never before graced her tongue! Before this creature, this changeling, could take them away and fill the fragrant air once more his abundant and absurd claptrap, Magna's own came over his in full force, craving more of the taste he had given. Her tongue penetrated past his teeth, touching the interior of his mouth as he had just done hers. Mávros Vasiliás' fell eyes lit up for a second, evidently surprised by the move, but quickly returning to their prior state after a moment had passed and indulged himself in this beautiful mare's passion.
"Mmm..." Magna softly moaned to the exotic taste filling her maw. It was a shameless moan, an aroused moan. Two good, long minutes transpired when their kiss finally concluded. Both creatures pulled their heads back, Magna panting as she caught her lost breath and Mávros merely looking upon her, his visage less haughty and instead more intrigued than ever.
"I take it you enjoyed that?" he queried happily, emitting a single chuckle of apparent amusement.
"Enjoyed? What the fuck are you?" asked back Magna in snappy fashion, still in the midst of quelling the fire in her lungs with the room's cold air. "I... I was going to strike you away. But when you kissed me... I don't even know the words to describe it properly."
Mávros uttered one of his long, mirthful hums. In his supple voice, like richest wine, he replied, "That is but a taste of what wonders I will show you, my destined consort. I've told you, I am a changeling. I know not why, but for me, the issue of love, and for that matter, lovemaking, is what I have always felt a natural talent in..."
He held his gaze over her as he spoke, unblinking. The look was solid and statuesque, yet still unvarnished with its lust. It was subtly dripping at the edges, dripping at the brittle cracks with a hidden enthusiasm he sought with deepest desperation to bring out. Covetous as it appeared, it was also full of a strange torment that seemed to be silently eating at him, in the way that Magna felt in the ephemeral moments before their lips met for the first time. Magna saw it now; what he truly wanted more than the supposed destiny he sought to fulfill, more then her body... was her consent.
Magna Bellatrix closed her eyes for a moment, inhaling and exhaling a deep, cool breath. "If... if that hefty boast of yours is indeed true, then..." the warrior-mare's cheeks turned a shade of crimson as red as a rose in bloom. She relaxed her staunch frame, opening her body up for any advance this creature might wish to make, to his immediate and almost startled delight. Yes, she was lowering her defenses, but she was still quite ready if he were to try anything that stirred up even a hint of bitterness in her mouth.
"If what you say is what you mean, if you can prove that you're so 'naturally talented' in pleasing what you suspect it is that has eluded me my whole life, then... I permit you to try," she relented. "I'll humor you. Go ahead and try to... quench my unquenchable desires, as you said before to me that you somehow could."
Twitching excitedly, Mávros' pointed ears heard the invitation well, and thusly did he slither forth to answer it, purring with unkempt glee as he crawled closer to Magna. Careful of even making the smallest mistake that might ruin the moment as soon as it began, he easily set his rightmost foreleg over her chest in a half-embrace, moving part of his chest of ebon chitin against the side of her white fur. Coming back down to Magna instead of forcing her to come to him, he bowed his head and again kissed the lips of the mortal mare who stole away his black heart long before he even met her. She closed her eyes and kissed back, craving what he had to give.
Mávros let his ambitions steadily climb as their lovemaking began to escalate. His hoof shifted errantly around where it was along Magna's side and hip and back, running through the groomed, but coarse fur that covered her entire form. Soon the changeling king's other hoof came to meet it, and he was wholly embracing her. Magna hugged the creature back, unable to help herself in the moment.
It only grew further from there. Not contented to simply feel the exquisite taste of her lips, the Black King started tasting the rest of the mare's form, and soon was he besotted with it. His desire running against the walls of becoming all-out amok and caution slipping steadier and steadier from his grasp, he kissed long, hard and fiercely along Magna's cheek, neck, breast and shoulder in kind. His teeth would occasionally impart upon her a small bite inflicted out of the excruciating passion he felt having her all to his own, not hard enough for even their sharp tips to breach the skin but enough to leave small, temporary spots of red.
Holy fuck. Magna more than felt his mouthparts rove. She felt it, and she cherished it. The warmth within her now lit aflame, she allowed him to continue to do so. Letting him go while he still clung so tensely, as to give him more room to wander, her hooves gripped the silken sheets she lay upon he he now fully lay over her. So tightly in her grasp she held them that she feared they would tear under the duress. She threw her horned head back, her blue mane sprawling out over the pillow in messy fashion.
Nothing in this world felt like this. Nothing had ever come close to sating her endless desire quite like this. Nothing at all. Magna moaned out the changeling king's name on hot breaths, pleading with him to never stop, to continue his actions as they were now, or else resume his ravishing in another way that would satisfy her senses all the same. Almost vacuous was her desperate cry, and only louder did it grow. And more than anything was the alien creature willing to do as his love so vehemently demanded.
The eye of the storm, a thing of brevity but an inevitable event nonetheless, was soon upon the changeling and the pony after a fair amount of time had transpired. When he felt it circle over him like a hungering vulture eyeing a corpse on the ground far below, Mávros stopped this rampant show of affection and stilled his head, his mouth now simply opening. From it came his dexterous tongue, forked and long and red as blood. Moving like a lithe, lively worm along fur and flesh alike, it tasted deep of his beloved quarry, retracting back from whence it came when the desired spot was cleaned and primed and ready for his gift. "Will you become my mate, Magna Bellatrix?" he asked, longing only for a positive response from his beloved. "Will you accept my hoof in marriage as I wish for yours?"
Her mind scarcely returned to reality following the fireworks of pleasure that had burned their white-hot flames about her brain, Magna somehow felt his tongue tasting her with abundant clarity. She shivered with unconstrained want. "Yes."
"Will you become my queen? My queen of changelings? Love me forevermore, as I in turn shall cherish you?"
"Oh, yes!"
Mávros' fangs distended from the roof of his maw, potent venom dripping already from their crooked, needle tips. "Will you be my one, true consort? Will it be you who bears my seed, who bears my young, who will let my kind flourish in this uncaring old world?"
Magna's tone whimpered with purest want, her grip around the changeling firm and unyielding. "Yes!"
The precious consent of his mate secured at long last with that final cry, Mávros Vasiliás struck. His fangs sunk deep into the spot betwixt Magna's muscular neck and broad shoulder, instantly pumping into her bloodstream copious amounts of the venom they bore. Soon her entire body would be filled to brimming with this potent agent he shared, enough to forever intertwine her fate with his. Enough to immediately begin the process of warping her frame into something more appropriate, more worthy of what splendor his lover, queen and consort deserved. Magna gasped as she felt their entry; a brief bout of pain, both agonizing in its sharp delivery, and somehow divine in its texture.
And pleasure, pure, undiluted pleasure, the likes of which no living creature had ever before felt, filled her entire form. And in it, Magna became lost. Hopelessly, blissfully lost in its infinite sea, blithely unaware of where she would end up next. Unaware and unsuspecting, but more than content was she with whom it was who would be leading her there, his hoof in hers, and hers, his...
Author's Note
Mortal kings are ruling castles
Welcome to my world of fun
Liars settle into sockets
Flip the switch and watch them run
