Project C.A.F.R

Thorax landed on Hajaa’s bed with a bounce, the lilac sheets comfortable against his exposed, soft chitin. He rolled immediately onto his back, cheeks blushing a deep blue. His compact eyes were glued to the striped hunk standing over him, his smile a mix of shy and excitement. He wasn’t so naive that he didn’t know what was coming next. Still, anxiety plagued him. Despite being believed to be nothing more than a love-sucking parasite by some, he admittedly he had never reached this stage in a relationship.

He resisted the urge to flinch when Hajaa’s hand reached for his face, only slightly tightening up half of his expression before the stallion’s striped hand cupped his cheek. In contrast to his chitin, the touch was warm, provoking Thorax to lean into it instinctually; the touch absent from his face all too soon as the fingers glided down his jaw and neck, the fingers hooking under the hem of his shirt. Thorax started to raise his arms, expecting Hajaa to peel his shirt off over his head. Instead, and suddenly, the zebra with one strong upwards yank, tore it off of the changeling’s lithe torso.

Thorax could do nought but gasp at the feral move, his shirt now nothing more than two pieces of tattered fabric; Hajaa’s hand grasping one piece, the changeling laying on a torso-shaped outline of the other. Hajaa was prompt in throwing the tattered cloth aside, his freed hand now coming up to stroke his chin, openly admiring the changeling’s smooth hairless chest and flat stomach. Thorax shrunk into himself, quickly forgetting Hajaa’s passionate vandalism. He was always self-conscious about his looks, possessing neither the model body of Shining nor some of Spike’s somewhat enviable plumpness. Yet Hajaa’s scanning ambers did a great deal in assuaging some of his fears, his heart quickening. He really didn’t know why he was so nervous about being shirtless. Hajaa had been without one from the very beginning, his large, toned torso further kindling the fire growing within the changeling.

In Hajaa’s eyes, the changeling’s chest was scrumptiously flat, noticeably lacking nipples on his pecs - which made sense, he wasn’t a mammal yet Hajaa could picture himself pinching and licking his chest all the same. Below that was his stomach, which was deliciously toned and well-built and, strangely, lacking a belly button. This gave the changeling a torso largely devoid of features aside from muscle definition but despite this, Hajaa still found himself easily attracted to his shapely upper half. If Hajaa found only one complaint it would be that he was somewhat emaciated; akin to some zebra Jalas who were too fearful about their figure enough to go several days without eating. However, this didn’t worry Hajaa too much. From what he knew about changelings, it wouldn’t be too difficult to put a little meat on his bones.… metaphorically speaking. Hajaa was unsure if he even had those.

Just as quickly as Hajaa stopped to admire the deep black torso of his Jala did he reach for the changeling’s pants. Thorax pursed his lips, already expecting what was to come next. Haphazardly, Hajaa utilised both hands to rip and tear off his pants, throwing them over his shoulder much like the remnants of his shirt. This time he didn't just admire with prying eyes, his hands resting on the smooth, plump thighs of his quarry, grinning at the sight of the changeling’s exposed lower-half. Hajaa’s thumbs rubbed appreciative circles on the surprisingly plush chitin, Thorax wincing at the Zebra’s electric touch. Eventually, Hajaa’s eyes eventually fell on the changeling’s bright green briefs, the legs of which pinched slightly into his feminine thighs. However, the true prize was outlined just below his waist, the shapely bulge of a sheath and balls - Hajaa was unspokenly curious about those, having never seen the anatomy of such an exotic creature before.

Without a second thought, Hajaa reached for the conspicuous bulge that outlined in the changeling’s green briefs. However, just as his palm grazed over the hidden fruits, his large fingers hooking around the hem, Thorax couldn’t help but release a timid squeak as his own clenched hands darted down to cover his pronounced pride, inadvertently swatting Hajaa’s away in the process.

Hajaa looked up at him with a furrowed brow, his gaze flat. In the homeland, defiance was an unexpected trait to find in a Jala. Back home, such defiance rarely mattered in the minds of many - rank and standing in the tribe above all…

He was glad to leave that behind but there were a few things he still needed to learn about the Equestrian way of life.

In his first act of Equestrian politeness, he exhaled slowly from his nostrils. Whilst he had no intent to go one without the changeling’s say-so, he was still irked to have been stopped so close to unwrapping his prize. “I’m not going to hurt you. Move your hands,” he ordered softly, trying to wipe away from his face his hardened features.

Thorax looked up at Hajaa, squeamishly pursing his lips before giving a singular and slow nod. He apprehensively removed his hands from his briefs, bringing them back to his chest just as Hajaa worked on removing his underwear. Thankfully, he was more delicate in that procedure, peeling them down from his wide waist and flared hips, the plump thighs before finally pulling them from his hooves - tossing them with the rest of the useless rags.

Hajaa smiled, bemused at what he saw between Thorax’s clenched thighs. Unlike his own, Thorax’s compact cock wasn’t housed within a sheath, even if its shape was familiar to any other equine. And, despite his lack of experience with such anatomy, it didn’t require much education to see that the lithe lovebug was hard. His black cock twitched and throbbed needily, the smooth, veinless flesh of the turgid organ clearly in desperate need of relief. Towards the broad cap of the changeling’s humble sceptre, the flesh took on a hue of dull green. Hajaa suspected that the size was the cause of his defiance. It was below average by equine standards, however, when Hajaa took the rest of the changeling into consideration, his rod was neither too long nor too short. It was the perfect size for the changeling, resting over a small wrinkled coin purse containing testes no larger than large grapes. There was no doubt he was bigger, much bigger, but confirmation that he was, indeed, the Irra was welcome.

Hajaa smirked. “It’s cute. Just like the rest of you,” he assured.

“T-thank you,” Thorax stuttered, a small smile coming to his blushing features. He didn’t expect to top but he was thankful the sight didn’t revulse his crush.

After the exchange Hajaa left the changeling’s thighs, standing and offering his hand. “Stand up - I need access to all of you.”

Thorax blinked, raising a brow. He expected things to go differently now that he was naked. “What’s this about?” he asked warily as he took his hand; Hajaa squeezing his fingers made his heart do a somersault.

Hajaa’s initial quiet made Thorax gulp as he pulled up to stand and pulled a few steps away from the bed, made to stand on his ruined clothes. After his hand was released he momentarily fought with himself whether or not to hide his still rigid penis as Hajaa began to walk circles around him. Unlike before, he wasn’t looked upon with admiration or lust but rather, a sculptor’s eye. Under this gaze, Thorax didn’t feel naked anymore. It was as though he was a blank canvas or a chunk of stone, ready to become formed into something else entirely - a masterpiece hopefully. Regardless, Thorax felt even more exposed, his cheeks continuing to burn.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, his erection deflating, Thorax probed the circling zebra. “Do you want me to s-shapeshift for you or-”

“That would defeat the purpose of what I’m about to do to you,” Hajaa cut him off bluntly, still peering closely. He stopped in front of him, his eyes narrowed. “Raise your arms.”

“R-right!” Thorax acquiesced immediately, his svelt arms raised, giving him the look of a large black ‘T’.

With his arms raised Hajaa wrapped one hand at the wrist before his other followed the contour of his outstretched limb to follow down his side. On the way, his fingers provoked a few helpless spasms in Thorax, who couldn’t stop a giggle to sound from his fanged maw.

“I’m ticklish!” he revealed, his stomach clenching with helpless laughter.

“Good to know…” Hajaa remarked, a hint of a smile appearing on his face before his lips were straightened just like the changeling’s arm.“Make your other arm like this, open your palms and keep them flat - also, stay still.“

“Okay,” Thorax listened to each command. He didn’t know what to expect but he was intrigued mightily, especially when he took into consideration some of the emotions he started to sense in the stallion.

At hearing his acceptance Hajaa stepped away, circling him once more in a quick inspection before he approached the nightstand. Even though his movements were relaxed, Thorax could sense a feeling of… nervousness in the striped stallion. On his approach to the drawer, Thorax saw him clenching his hands open and closed. Opening the drawer, he reached inside, pulling what was inside out with extreme carefulness. Even Thorax was beginning to feel anxious about what Hajaa held softly between his fingers. When he finally turned around, he was prepared for a big reveal. So, Thorax was understandably surprised by how small it was.

It was a little glass vial, not more than four inches tall and about an inch wide. Inside the vial was a pure white substance which Thorax couldn’t make heads or tails of. His first presumption was that it was a potion of sorts, the striped equines renowned for alchemy and shamanism outside their homelands. However, a potion failed to answer why he needed to bare himself so boldly.

“What is that? I-if you don’t mind me asking!” Thorax gushed, smiling sheepishly.

Hajaa approached, stopping right before the changeling before he removed the cap, holding both it and the vial in his left. “In my language, it’s mallattoo, but in yours: paint,” he answered, before dipping his right index finger in the mouth of the vial, barely wetting the tip of his finger before continuing. “I’m going to brand you,” he answered directly, before softly pressing his finger to the changeling’s effeminate chest.

“‘B-brand me’?” Thorax echoed, confused. The only thing that stopped him from feeling fear or worry was the lack of malevolence in the zebra. “Why?”

Hajaa’s finger moved precisely diagonal down the changeling’s torso, stopping only to dip his finger once again. “To mark you as mine.”

“Uhh….” Thorax trailed off, his eyes widening. The implications weren’t exactly pleasing to him.

Hajaa sensed this, his finger stopping at the abdomen, assuring Thorax with a look. “It sounds a lot worse than it is. It’s not the bondage of servitude I tie you to, it’s, as you would say: marriage.”

Whilst that answer was a lot more assuring than slavery, Thorax almost turned white at the alternative. “M-m-marriage?! But we-”

“Again,” he interrupted, a pained grin coming to his face. “Not as serious as I made it out to be. Whilst it’s certainly a commitment, it’s, ah, not as strong. Our version of a marriage ceremony is extremely different,” he elaborated, an expression akin to amusement on his face. “What you are to me now in my culture is a Jala. There isn’t really a direct translation but the closest word I’d pick is… bottom.”

Thorax, whose blush has subsided from a while ago, came back in full force. “That’s a little… o-obvious.”

Hajaa curled his lip. “Maybe… but it’s apt, no?”

Thorax couldn’t deny that, pursing his lips in embarrassed silence. Hajaa continued to streak him meanwhile, leaving the changeling ever more curious about what he’d look like after he was done. Whilst, in theory, he could shapeshift to assume any form her wanted, alterations to his base body was an entirely new idea to him. He had never once entertained a tattoo or a piercing, yet there he was getting a full-body brand from someone he had sparsely conversed with.

After a few more minutes, when the zebra was beginning to work on his arms, he got curious about something else. “Do I get to leave a mark on you?” he asked quizzically, glancing sideways at the stallion.

Hajaa smirked, amused. “It’s a little early for marriage proposals, Thorax,” he replied, chuckling heartily as he continued striping the changeling’s chitin.”But yes. After a time, you can leave your own mark on your Irra. It would signify my commitment to you and solely you.”

Whilst he was flustered by what amounted to an accidental proposal, Thorax still felt his intrigue gnawing at him. Just as he finished the changeling’s other arm, he decided to ask. “Why can’t I mark you now?”

Who looked visibly uncomfortable at the question, so much so, in fact, Thorax considered retracting it. Hajja wore that face, maintaining his quiet until he disappeared behind the changeling’s back, striping his back. “In my society, Irras are decided by the size of their genitals. Unconventional and foreign, yes, but it’s our culture. The bigger, the more powerful their position in the tribe. With power comes privilege. They can have anything they desire; be it resources, land… lovers.”

Thorax felt his finger stop at his side, just below his rib. After he finished he taste sadness in the air, melancholy from the stud behind him. “So an Irra could brand multiple Jala if he wanted?”

The question snapped Hajaa out of his reverie, his finger arching back from his side, angled towards his jiggly tush. “Yes - although the practice is uncommon. Despite how obscene this may seem to you, we’re a rather monogamous culture. Most remain committed to one and only one.”

Desperate to waft away the tincture of sadness that remained, Thorax pushed his questioning elsewhere. “What exactly are you covering me with anyway?”

Hajaa had begun laying down the runway of white on the changeling’s ass when the question was asked, almost absorbed by how plump the changeling’s derriere was despite the lack of fat elsewhere.“It’s a product of simple yet dedicated alchemy. There are three main ingredients. Whilst the first two were easy to acquire, the third is a rarity - both to ponies and zebras,” he began, his brush with the changeling’s taint provoking a few surprising but inoffensive shivers. “The first couple of ingredients are optional but I went with chalk and crushed up white seashells. You would be hard-pressed to find chalk in my homeland - my nation not abundant in white cliffs or powdery stone. Here? I find it boxes by the dozen. Seashells are in abundance, just as our beaches. But those aren’t enough by themselves, you need something to bond them together. That’s what you need Aldawa for.”

“Aldawa?” Thorax repeated, furrowing his brows. The ingredient was totally enigmatic to the changeling.

“It’s a flower,” Hajaa answered, vague. “When used to bind the ingredients, it enhances its permanence. It won’t flake or come off unless very, very intensely scrubbed, or a cleaning solution is concocted,” Hajaa said as his finger crossed the hanging border of his ass to streak down his outer thigh.“The ingredient itself doesn’t possess many qualities. The value and importance come from its meaning and in the desert scarcity. Just as it is resilient on the body, so too is it resilient to grow amongst the sands and rock of my homeland.”

“If the ingredients for it are so rare and expensive where you come from, why not just use white paint whilst you’re here? Apply it at the beginning of a new day,” the changeling pondered, just as the zebra reached the back of his knee.

Hajaa suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, just as he moved onto the left asscheek. “Barring the fact that regular paint takes hours to dry, it defeats the entire purpose. The process of creating the mixture is one part effort, another... sentiment. You have to display as much commitment in creating it with the same level of commitment as is expected of you as a Jala. In order to mix Aldawa without it fully dissolving away, you must keep the temperature precise and perfect, manually checking on concoction every two hours to ensure it is cooking properly. You need to give up sleep just ensure that you even have a chance of collecting some. An automated oven cannot do the job either, for the Aldawa requires whispers from the mixer to keep active. Then, after the third day, you’ll have a pittance of what is left of the original ingredients - barely able to fill this vial.”

Thorax listened, enthralled by the zebra’s explanation, appreciating the effort that went into such an endeavour. He certainly had a raised opinion for the network of growing white stripes on his contrasting black chitinous body.

“That seems rather… intense,” he remarked, looking down as Hajaa began applying stripes to his calves, circling the rims of the few small holes in the bug's legs. Thorax noticed that his head was noticeably level with his cock, although the zebra’s attention was more closely squared on his calves.

“Yes, it requires a lot of effort. And not everyone can be bothered to do it. I almost gave up on it myself. I had had to rely on Achuu’s help just to get the Aldawa,” he elaborated, gliding over his knee. “I was fortunate that he was preparing a batch as well.”

“Then… Wh-what if an Irra and Jala… break up?” he asked out of curiosity sake, a break-up between them at this stage beyond premature.

“Other than the unfathomable number of hours required to scrub it off, nothing much beyond that unless you count hurt feelings. However in certain places in my homeland many punishments could be levied against Jalas who would refuse an Irra. If an Irra broke from his Jala in these places, there was merely a stigma attached to the bottom. For a Jala to break from an Irra is typically seen as an offence to the natural way of things. Whilst not universal, there are tribes who will begin to shun such the offending Jala. They become forbidden from removing their Irra’s brand. It will become a mark of disobedience and shame at worst, and a mark of dissatisfaction at best. That’s how several members of the tribe ended up with us,” Hajaa spoke casually, although his tone betrayed an inflection of anger behind it.

Hajaa’s lowered head meant that he couldn’t see the slight frown on the changeling’s face. Although Thorax knew he should’ve dropped the topic, his curiosity got the best of him. “H-how does your tribe treat Jalas?”

To the changeling’s surprise, his question wrought some feelings of happiness from the zebra; who remained stoic despite them. “Right.”

That was all the changeling needed to be satisfied enough to turn his frown upside down.

Unfortunately, his fall into a happy mood just about put him into a state of unpreparedness for what happened next. Suddenly, whilst applying a particularly long stripe, Hajaa brushed up against his inner thigh, just about grazing his precious black stones with the sides of his fingers.

“Ah!” he yelped in surprise, caught off guard by the unexpected brush. His back plate shot open, and his wings fluttered rapidly with a quick buzz, Hajaa’s attention suddenly stolen away from his painting.

Hajaa connected the stripe on Thorax’s thigh to another before standing, brows furrowed in bemusement. “Huh? I should have noticed that. I knew I was forgetting something about your kind whilst I was on your back,” he mentioned idly, circling back around to the otherside of the changeling.

“H-hey!” Thorax cried, his face turning a deep blue again as his buzzing wings settled down.

“Hey! Keep that open, I will need to stripe your actual back as well,” Hajaa ordered firmly, reapplying a fresh layer to his finger.

“P-please don’t. That place is really really s-sensitive…” Thorax fought meekly as Hajaa stood behind him; unable to move lest he ruined the paint job on his body. Despite his reluctance, he did keep the plate parted, unable to refuse Hajaa outright.

“And?” Hajaa asked as he went to work on applying the mixture.

Thorax struggled to keep a straight face as Hajaa dragged his finger sideways across his exposed back. For a non-changeling the sensation was hard to describe. The sensitivity of his wingspace fell somewhere between painful and… pleasant. He knew that the only other species to experience such quaintness were pegasi - their wing joints notorious for their tenderness, the massaging of such delicate joints a trope in many examples of erotica at this point. It’s thanks to the relative obscurity of changeling biology that such an erogenous zone was known only by the species in question and a few maverick researchers.

It was for that reason Thorax knew his slight annoyance with the zebra was misplaced, although that didn’t stop him from also swearing that his extra slow pace was deliberate. His brushing finger gentle yet producing a pleasurable friction against his back. His slow pace was to avoid damaging the very thin, delicate wings of the love bug, unknowingly just sending wave after constant wave of ecstasy down the changeling’s back like a deep piercing thunderbolt. Every miniscule movement against Thorax’s sensitive inner back provoked a full-body wave of bliss, each one Thorax had to force his mouth tightly shut just to choke back an errant whimper or moan. The start of each new line was the cycle starting anew, his body tensing under Hajaa’s finger and glacial pace. Between his legs the whip cracks of pleasure prompted his black-green mast to rise and swell, twitching needily and eager for stimuli. Now erect, by the time Hajaa started his third line the onyx member throbbed at the base, eventually coming to squeeze out a clear bead of precum from his bug-cock.

“Mmmmph! Hurry up and finish, please!” he croaked out in desperation, trying not to let his body pleasure overcome him with spasms.

Hajaa finally noticed the effects of his actions with a cursory glance over the bug’s shoulder, his humble dick shamelessly twitching under his gaze.

Hajaa chuckled, resuming his painting despite the new knowledge. “It’s good to know where you’re sensitive,” he hunk purred as he finished the last stripe, his lip curling as he withdrew his finger.

“Are you done?” The changeling whimpered, his eyes following Hajaa as he circled back to his front.

“Just one or two finishing touches,” Hajaa answered, his eyes already in open admiration of his handiwork.

The vial was almost empty now. Still, covering his fingertip he reached for the changeling’s flushed countenance, unable to suppress a smile at such a cute expression. With three precise movements, the zebra added a few stripes to his face. His finger traced just under his eye, two stripes across his cheek before doing the same on the opposing side. Finally, Hajaa drew a long line going from the base of his curved horn to the tip of his snout.

When Hajaa’s finger left his snout, Thorax wrinkled his nose, letting out a cute sneeze; inciting Hajaa to snicker in retort.

“Now?” The changeling inquired, reminiscent of an impatient foal.

“Not quite. Just need to add the very last marking. Then, you shall truly be mine,” Hajaa answered, allowing a contented if somewhat premature grin to come to his face.

He lowered to a knee, at which Thorax could only feel shame - the zebra now in line with his helplessly throbbing erection. Thorax couldn’t look as Hajaa reached his hand out, a perverse part of him hoping to feel the larger stallion’s fingers to coil around his eager bughood. However, to his relief - and disappointment - the familiar sensation of Hajaa sketching digit was felt on the smooth, hairless mound just above his base. The area that Hajaa covered reached from his dick to where his belly button would be, clearly drawing something more complex than just lines..

Thorax could feel Hajaa drawing a row of lines before tracing some triangle-like shapes on the outside. Whenever Hajaa traced across his lower abdomen he couldn’t help but let out a bug like chittering at the feeling, his chitin sensitive to tickles.

“All done. That wasn’t too bad now, was it?” he asked rhetorically as he stood back up - the vial in his left hand now entirely empty.

Thorax almost flinched when the zebra placed a hand on his shoulder, fearing that all of Hajaa’s work was about to be undone.

“What’re you-”

“Already dried, now c’mere,” Hajaa pressured, dragging the changeling along with a series of firm but unharming tugs towards a mirror conveniently standing in the room’s corner.

Thorax, changeling or no, noticed the out of place giddiness in the large zebra, allowing himself to be pulled by the sheer surrealness of the sight alone. He barely had time to balance himself before Hajaa looked at him expectantly, grinning.

“Tell me, what do you think?”

What did he think? Thorax couldn’t imagine what insight he could offer him before directing his eyes to the mirror…

“Wow…” he muttered, in sincere awe of his new look.

The notion was simple: covered in stripes. But there were few things offered by nature or biology that could compete with the passion of a driven designer. Were it not for his eyes, fangs and lack of mammalian features, Thorax would have believed himself as having transformed into a disguise. He looked believable as a full-on zebra, simply with his colours inverted. He raised his arms, inspected his sides, his own hands absentmindedly traced some of the white lines, in open admiration of the artwork now emblazoned into his chitin. Hajaa had turned his blank black canvas of a body into something truly spectacular. He didn’t need to say a single thing to get across to Hajaa that what he thought of the work was no less than perfect!

“Hmph, I think you have proven once and for all that zebras are black with white stripes,” Hajaa quipped, smirking triumphantly.

Thorax hardly was listening, transfixed on himself. After following as many of the lines as he could his sights finally settled on the more complex design just above his half-flaccid dick. After noticing it he was pulled from his excited stupor, smiling shyly at the effective brand in the mirror. “That makes me y-yours…”

Hajaa nodded, crossing his arms. “Yes, it does.”

“What is it? If you don’t mind me asking,” Thorax added hastily, his eyes stealing a shy look at the zebra.

The ‘brand’ itself wasn’t too complex in essence. The series of lines Thorax felt made the shape of a square, just without a border or points. And the triangles circled the said square, creating an image that Thorax could only surmise to be the sun.

“Oh, that,” Hajaa let loose a sparse chuckle, “that’s my marking. What the ponies would refer to as a ‘cutie mark’. I’ve never been fond of the name myself,” Hajaa commented as he turned sideways towards the changeling, cocking his hip slightly as he tugged down on his trousers. In the place where his cutie mark would be, was instead, just more stripes.

Thorax met his brows. “Where is it?”

Hajaa tugged his pants back up, that same, taciturn sadness from before yet again lingered on the air. “I’m forbidden from wearing it anymore… most of our tribe is. However, it still represents all I am - and now you wear it,” he explained, smiling sadly at the changeling.

Thorax nodded, trying to counter the sadness with a smile of his own. “I’m honoured to be yours, Hajaa,” he spoke kindly, giving a singular nod.

After he turned slightly, raising his arm to give his back a once over. Whilst he was wary now in the presence of Hajaa, he split his wing casing to get a look at his handiwork there, his elytra unfurling down the slight curve of his back.

“Hmph. Looks like I missed a spot,” Hajaa suddenly said, causing Thorax to raise an eyebrow.

Thorax, confused, looked at him. “You did?”

“Just below your tail. Follow me, I’ll get that spot… filled in, right away,” he spoke with a hard-to-hide slyness.

Thorax followed the zebra. If the blatant lust in his tone was the first red flag the second was when he was led past the pile of rags back to the bed. Hajaa looked at him knowingly, the changeling pursing his lips as he nodded, stepping forwards, leaning on the bed; his ample posterior popping out towards the zebra and his ravenous eyes.

Thorax clenched his hands around the soft lilac covers as the zebra planted his whole hand on his lower back, his eyes clenching as he tried his best to slow his beating heart. The hand moved down in a straight line, swerving right at his tail dock to slide over and rest on Thorax’s right asscheek. Hajaa squeezed the plump mound, the juicy cheek earning a grunt of approval from the tall zebra. If Thorax had his doubts that the zebra was merely finishing his work they were completely solidified when his left hand - now empty of the vial - mirrored his other and joined in on massaging his large black buns. Thorax never placed much value in his booty, his plump black peach was probably responsible for more curious glances than the fact he was a changeling. The longer Hajaa played with his badonkadonk the bluer his face became with a blush, his tightening grip around the covers doing extremely little to stop his little drone from rising up for a third time that afternoon.

“W-what are you doing?’ he asked anxiously, keeping eyes focused forwards.

“Playing,” Hajaa answered bluntly, pressing the soft chitin under his fingertips.

Thorax pursed his lips. He already knew that. Hajaa wasn't ‘playing’ roughly but his fascination with his derriere left him perplexed. Hajaa neither pushed in too deeply as to cause pain nor were his fingers shallow in his black smooth shell. Thorax sighed. “With my butt?”

“Oh, not just your butt,” he replied.

Right after Thorax’s eyes shot wide open, his body tensing as the zebra’s right hand began to fondle his precious black stones. His thumb brushed across the wrinkled flesh, the adorable pair of walnut-sized testes a sight only a few eyes had ever had the privilege to look upon. A changeling’s reproductive organs were just as elusive as their owners were, rarely seen absent of a disguise.

“Also these.”

“I-I see…” he stammered. Despite the brawn behind those fingers, Hajaa was commendable in his gentleness, inspecting each churning ball with an intrigued smile. Thorax liked that he was a soft touch - considerate, considering a curious ball fondling wouldn’t be the only thing he was expecting to experience for the first time in his intimate encounter with the zeeb stud.

However, Thorax was so focused on what the zebra was doing with his right, he never noticed that his left was no longer touching his body. Whilst Hajaa toyed with his sack, he brought his fingers to his mouth, slipping his middle past his lips and coating it thoroughly with spit. When it left his maw, he wore a toying smile as it headed towards its only destination...

“Aaah~” Thorax half-moaned, half-screamed as his body lurched forwards as though brought to a sudden halt after a quick gallop.

Hajaa’s finger slipped inside his plush wrinkled ponut with resistance, aided by ample spit, Hajaa shoved his finger in deep, brushing against the changeling’s thankfully present p-spot. The black-green cock flexed at the sudden intruder, a thin string of precum already leaking from his indented tip; his puffy asshole instinctually squeezing around Hajaa’s probing digit.

“W-what are you-”

“Hush.” Hajaa interrupted, growling lustily as he continued to feel and wiggle around in the changeling’s tight black ass.

His hole was remarkably tight and if Hajaa didn’t know any better, unused. In any capacity. That intrigued him, but not as much as its remarkable softness - his finger hugged on all sides by the silk-soft innards of the bug’s bouncing booty. Rather than the hole’s typical attribute of forcing out unwanted intruders, it seemed to possess a natural suction, as though it wanted to be filled. Were it not for the fact Hajaa was staring right at the changeling’s wrinkled flower, he would have thought he was going knuckle deep into a twat - the comparison of which provoked a near-wretch inducing memory of his one-on-one with the so-called ‘Princess of Love’.

Thorax cried out as the finger slowly forced its way in. The unexpected tide of pleasure made his arms buckle under the weight of his own bliss - the only thing stopping him from landing face-first into the sheets was Hajaa’s arm coiling around his stomach.

“Relax,” The zebra assured, although his voice carried across that casual application of authority Thorax had heard before. When the changeling looked back at him, he was met with two words. “Trust me.”

At the reassurance Thorax found himself relaxing inexplicably, his clenching he-cunt loosening, the zebra’s thick finger submerging deeper inside.

“Hmmph, I must say, I’m surprised you’re as tight as you are.. Are you a virgin, or by design?” he asked casually, just as a second digit slowly began to prod and tease at the changeling’s taut entrance. .

Thorax was in partial awe that he was able to make casual conversation despite the intimateness of the moment. Still, he forced air in through his nostrils, despite having no lungs to breathe into, speaking on the exhale. “Hah… ah… According to my - umm - DNA, I’m s- hnng - s-supposed to be a s-sexual love m-m-magnet. But that’s not -unf- me,” the changeling answered between constant moans and pleasured groans, the zebra half-listening to him as the second finger slipped inside, spreading him even further apart.

“Then consider it my highest honor to be the one to deflower this black rose...” Hajaa chuckled, smiling darkly, the lust burning in his eyes roaring even hotter.

After that, Thorax found himself clinging to Hajaa’s arm for dear life as he began to slide his twin digits in and out of his tail-hole. The pace started off nice and brisk, gliding in and out seamlessly, aided by the generous helping of Hajaa’s spit combined with the unique properties of Thorax’s box. Hajaa made sure to curl his fingers, apply pressure to the changeling’s pulsing prostate, making sure to milk it for all he could of the slender bug’s pleasurable mewls.

However, as nice as the predictable and slow pace was, Thorax felt harder times ahead when a third finger started to ease its way into him. He braced and braced but nothing could have prepared his virgin colt-hole from stretching of three large fingers, all pushing down on his nut-sized g-spot. His back arched and his wings involuntarily buzzed with each firm thrust of Hajaa’s striped fingers..

But steadfast still, Hajaa kept his arm tight around Thorax, even as his elytra wisped across his chiselled chest. Thorax felt him tighten his coil around his belly, almost wanting to moan out an apology. However, it wasn’t his pleasured squirming that motivated Hajaa. Almost imperceptibly, the pace of his digits began to quicken, spreading themselves even further apart to take as much room as they could. Thorax noticed his hole being spread, the pain that came with such was nothing compared to the ecstasy of it, his prick a non-stop trickle of pre. However, Hajaa continued to pick up the pace, going faster and faster until he was blasting the changeling’s poor hole. His fingers reappeared as fast as they disappeared, plunging deep to his knuckle until Thorax ceased moaning; instead, drooling from his fanged maw as the zebra left him functionary breathless with bliss...

“That should do it.”

With those words Thorax felt the fingers yank themselves from his butt, leaving his hole clenching for their fullness again longingly. Thorax felt weakened after the experience but things were clearly only getting started. Clarity pulled him from his blissful stupor as his body was lifted up by Hajaa’s powerful arms, his body being deposited on the bed, the feeling of being dropped triggered a sense of deja vu. He found it humorous that just a few moments ago he was clothed and decent, now? Covered in stripes, naked, with his backdoor having been violated and his cock twitching against the sheets. He would have laughed if he weren’t so helplessly turned on.

When he turned onto his back, he found himself reinvigorated when he saw Hajaa’s fingers curling the hem of his loose purple trousers. He fought with the compulsion to look away, reminding himself of the situation. Hajaa had seen him at his most intimate, now it was his turn...

Hajaa smirked at his eager face. Although Hajaa resisted the attempts of hollow cuteness by other Irra, there was something particularly arousing about Thorax’s failure to hide his desire when he was so intent on doing so before. Maybe the openness of other Irras got to him but seeing someone try so hard to be chaste but fail utterly turned him on like nothing else. This arousal was put on display when he allowed his trousers to drop, baring himself to the changeling’s cyan hues…

“W-woah…”

The changeling’s eyes became saucers when they laid themselves for the first time on Hajaa’s naked lower half. Whilst his legs were equally chiselled as his torso he was sick of pretending all else mattered when the zebra’s pulsing black rod was exposed for the first time, swinging upwards before resting slightly downwards when it flopped free of its silky constraints. It was like a monarch’s sceptre - long and hard, without blemish with the exception of a few thick veins snaking the surface. It was a true symbol of his authority in that bedroom, twitchy and heavy, filled with barely enough piping blood to sustain its own impressive girth. And below Hajaa’s impressive fuckmeat, adjoined to the long onyx column, were a pair of peach-sized nuts. The large, fertile pair were practically audible with roiling seed, the bountiful nuts visibly heavy and pendulous under the weight of their sloshy white contents.

Thorax was broken from his almost hypnotic gaze when the zebra advanced towards him, his cock swaying, beleaguered under its own weight. Hajaa climbed onto the bed, his hands coming to grip his striped calves as he forced them to spread, the changeling not resisting in the slightest. He continued forwards until he occupied the empty space between his legs, his massive cock and balls plopped down on the changeling’s own equipment. Thorax whimpered behind his closed lips, the slight bit of friction causing his twitchy dong to throb against the zebra’s fuckstick, leaving a dot of pre on its soft spongy underside - a penile smooch. Hajaa fell forwards, his own muscular chest grazing against Thorax, staring down into the changeling’s compound eyes. He said nothing as he brought his mouth down, locked lips with the changeling. Before Thorax could comprehend that a kiss was finally happening, Hajaa forced his tongue inside. Hajaa almost winced in pain from scratching his slippery muscle against one of Thorax’s fangs but he was too eager to do any such thing; his tongue easily dominating Thorax’s mouth and forked tongue, filling up his smaller mouth and bulging his black cheeks out with his large tongue and excess spittle.

Hajaa pulled his head back after a short while, his breathing noticeably heavy as he looked down at the mystified changeling, whose face was now almost entirely blue as he met his gaze. Hajaa recognised the look on his expression: shame but also want. He grinned despite himself, his hips shifting and rearing back, the spongy tip of his large black erection trailing over the bug’s average sack and taint before pressing against the changeling’s taboo hole.

“T-this is actually happening,” Thorax stammered, in partial disbelief of the entire situation. He could feel that… thing throbbing against his hole, the scolding hot pipe of the zebra’s impressive sex.

“I hope you’re ready, Thorax. .I don’t go easy on Jalas...” Hajaa warned, his bestial meat smearing globs of his clear sticky juices against Thorax’s colt-puss.

Thorax opened his mouth to ask what he meant by that. However just as his jaw parted open, as did his tender hole, the zebra easing his hips into changeling’s fuckhole. He gasped, his hole enveloping just the mere crown of the zebra’s fuck-sceptre was enough to leave him physically full, the sheer girth already pushing against his p-spot with greater force than fingers ever could. Thereafter, Thorax expected for the fuck barrel to be slowly fed into his butt, to be taken like as a lover should…

Although he came quickly to understand the striped stallions’ warning.

Thorax’s eyes bugged open wide, as Hajaa speared half of his humongous cock into his clenching ass, the rod stretched him to his absolute limits; the slab of dick growing slightly thicker the further down it you went. Absolute pleasure joined with pain as he was effectively torn in two by the zebra’s huge cock. Although no leverage could really help him take the large ebony column, his fingers dug into the bedsheets, trying to release his pain through the tight grip he had around lilac covers as Hajaa slowly fed more of his deep black python into his Jala’s butthole; only giving him a moment to relax once he was fully hilted inside - although ‘relax’ was certainly a stretch, almost as much as he was stretching the bug’s sphincter.

Hajaa looked down to observe the spectacle, seeing his entire shaft buried to the root was as almost as hot as the sensation that surrounded it. Having his entire cock embraced like that made his hips tremble with impatience, his entire dick pulsating with bliss as what felt like a million tongues lapped at every turgid inch of his deep black hog. He was so wrapped up in the euphoria that he almost failed to acknowledge the lack of a bulge in his Jala’s belly. It did feel he was pushing against something within the bug’s deepest depths and if he placed his hand over where his cock ended, he would undoubtedly have found it someplace under his stomach. Maybe the chitin did not offer as much stretch as his own would give. Hajaa smiled at the realisation. It was probably, alongside being a virgin, that made his cock feel so snug within him.

Meanwhile, Thorax was too consumed with the cascades of sensation to spend much of his mental power on thought. Every throb of the zebra’s dick only served to push against his p-spot, his pleasure button being pushed with every involuntary twitch of the striped stallion’s dick. Meanwhile, his own rod was crushed under Hajaa’s muscled stomach, painfully hard and crying tears of pleasured joy. Hajaa chuckled at him, slightly gyrating his hips from side to side, purposefully trying to milk more bliss from the bug’s p-spot.

This worked, obviously. Thorax threw his head back to release a pleasured scream that was half-stopped by his hands covering his own mouth. He did this to stop the advancing tide of throaty moans and whorish groans that emerged as Hajaa ground himself inside of him. Hajaa hadn’t even begun thrusting in and out of him in earnest yet and he was already mewling like a harlot. What didn’t help was the fact his feelings of shame provoked even more lust from Hajaa, whose meaty stick pumped more slick pre into his vice-like canal. It wasn’t too long after Thorax tried to silence his moaning that Hajaa grabbed him by the wrists, forcibly pulling his hands away before pinning them above his head.

“Stop,” Hajaa ordered, looking him dead in the eyes, something primal behind his pupils. “Let me hear you moan. The best Jalas are the ones who are loud.”

Thorax was panting as he was commanded, his lack of lungs making the gesture entirely mental as bliss travelled in his veins. He couldn’t summon the strength to voice himself, only exhaling and the beginning of mewls fell from his gullet. He could only look up at the hunk and nod.

The zebra smiled, proud with himself before he started his work. The zebra reared his hips back, slowly withdrawing himself, making sure to drag every fat inch of his meat against the bug’s virgin prostate as much as he could. Thorax’s writhed in place, not sure what to do as pleasure crashed into him with every inch. His hands clenched themselves into fists, held in place by the pin Hajaa had him in. He allowed his pleasured cries and mewls to flow from his mouth as Hajaa played with him, the zebra’s cock completing a circuit within him that connected his body to indescribable pleasure. He became putty beneath him, clenching his boy pussy around Hajaa as his own hips tried in futility to thrust against the zebra’s stomach. He thought he heard Hajaa chuckle at his expense at one point but he couldn’t be sure, deafened by his own bliss.

When Hajaa had withdrawn all of himself except his cocktip, he tightened his grip on Thorax’s wrists, resolving to use his quarry as leverage. His still implanted tip continued to lubricate the non-twat with his essence whilst still ensuring the zebra’s swift and easy entry. Then, without warning, Hajaa slammed his hips against the plump ass, impaling the changeling fully with his great black partisan, his huge balls colliding with a meaty and sloshy slap against his tush. The impaling made Thorax arch with a howl as his ass was completely filled once again, although this time, he knew Hajaa wasn’t going to give him any respite.

Hajaa, up until this point, was practising a great level of patience. Going slow wasn’t his style. His instincts were screaming at him to breed the love bug, so that’s what he was going to do. As quickly as he had plunged deep into the soft, endless depths of the changeling’s ass he began to retreat. His hips glided his great black shaft from the clenching he-cunt, now wet and sticky gossamer-like with pre. With an accompanying grunt, he lanced himself back inside, snorting as the accompanying wave of pleasure that accompanied it. Like the feral beast he became, he didn’t need to spare much thought to the act, his hips acting on autopilot as he ravaged Thorax’s behind.

Similar to Hajaa, Thorax felt his own instincts drive him. His spread legs wrapped themselves around Hajaa’s waist as he began his thrust hard within him, his earnest fucking awakening something within Thorax thought numbed as his lover drove himself deep into his obscene, makeshift cock-sheath. His primaeval instincts as a changeling desired him to drain every droplet of cum from the zebra’s heavy sack, the thick creamy load that awaited him, the heavy nuts practically calling out to him; the nut butter roiling and impatient to spill out and fill his guts. However, while his thighs quivered and his cock tensed whilst Hajaa rammed his meat-ram into him, there was a feeling of unease in his chest. The pleasure of the moment was screaming out loud in his ears but below it, just beneath the surface, Thorax felt pain. His stretched and abused hole played two simultaneous crescendos - pleasure and pain. Hajaa was rough, a little too rough for his sensible tastes. It didn’t feel like making love. It was pure, carnal fucking, done for nothing more than the pursual of pleasure. Yet, it could devolve into something even baser than that, something Thorax was loath to admit when he felt so good: he was being used...

Whilst Thorax bathed in his bliss and pain, Hajaa only increased his pace as his pleasure escalated, the sound of his hips and balls slapping against Thorax’s soft chitinous rear filling the room. Fortunately for the bug, his carapace was quite firm despite its deceptive softness, otherwise the speed and hardness of Hajaa’s thrusts would’ve left him quite blue on the tush.

As the relentless fucking continued, their noses were clogged by the dense smell of each other's musk and pheromones. Thorax could feel sweat begin to slicken his chest, all of it coming from the friction he and Hajaa created from their chests rubbing. Hajaa’s grip around his wrists tightened with his quickening pace, threatening to crack the carapace and break his wrists. This was only a small worry to the changeling, his brain far too addled with lust, alongside the affection in the air, which wafted off the zebra in waves. He was intoxicated by his lover’s emissions.

His attention was consumed by the zebra breeding him that he was completely caught off guard by one particularly harsh thrust. It was as though he was struck by thunder, his moans ceasing as he was rendered inert mentally - his hole instinctually flexing around the zebra’s fat pulsing cock. His vision was consumed by white and black as a pleasured yet hollow scream came from his throat. It twitched and throbbed within him, flaring inside of him and his cock swelled almost a quarter of the size thicker. His eyes closing as his penis pulsed once, then twice, before firing a few impressive strings of semen between his and Hajaa’s belly.

Meanwhile, Hajaa’s orgasm was a little less grandiose, almost as blunt and beastly as the cock that he had driven deep into his Jala’s fuckhole. Fully hilted inside, he practically rearranged the changeling’s guts, his hole warped and melded to fit around every veiny inch of the colossal meat. His dick was milked by the changeling’s spasming insides, balls clenched, flexing time and time again to try and feed enough jizz into Hajaa’s cum cannon. The first volley was loaded and fired deep into Thorax’s belly, rope after rope of potent white spunk began to paint his insides messily. Some spilt out onto the sheets beneath them, it was so voluminous. Hajaa wouldn’t have been able to keep count of the number of long thick and virile ropes that fired from his dick, unsure of how much pent up seed he was carrying out in his large, full nuts.

After what felt like minutes, and probably was, Hajaa grunted, his cock becoming limp and soft, making it tenable to finally withdraw such a huge girth from the bug’s still clenching hole. When the still trickling tip was pulled free, a small gush of excess cum leaked from the bug’s rawhide, the jizz covered and gaping hole struggled to stop the tide of zebra semen from messing up the sheets. With a satisfied groan, Hajaa flopped onto his side next to Thorax, fatigued after the long bout of fucking.

Thorax was frozen, still riding the high of his recent orgasm, not entirely sure if he would be capable of moving again. His ass ached with a dull pain that hurt good, although he would have preferred it not hurt at all. He flopped his head onto his cheek, meeting Hajaa’s impressed eye.

“You did good,” he complimented, reaching out for the bug’s other shoulder.

“All I did was lay there though…” Thorax replied, just as Hajaa pulled him into his chest, his warm sweaty body putting him in an odd sense of ease.

“And still, you did that very well to take me. I’m the second largest in the tribe and this is your first time - commendable.” His arms tightened around the changeling’s body, trying to share some of his own bodily warmth with the otherwise cool insect. He smiled, purring. “I almost cannot wait for next time.”

“Next time?! I-I mean: g-good,” Thorax chirped, snuggling against Hajaa’s muscled chest. “I do have a r-request though...”

Hajaa raised an eyebrow, despite his closed eyes. “Which is?”

Thorax settled in place, finally allowing himself to relax, his desire to rest growing ever stronger. “If you want to be that rough with me again... I want you to take me somewhere nice on our first date.”

Hajaa opened his eyes just as the changeling closed his. There was a pause, then two, before he mouthed a question silently towards the ceiling.

“...What’s a date?”