Clear liquid spilled over the edge of the grimy table edge, spilling onto Delta’s lap.

“Fuck! Watch it!” The surly, half-drunk pegasus snarled across the now soaked tabletop at her compatriot on the other side of the booth. “You’re such a fuckin’ sloppy drunk, Bonesaw.”

“Aw, fuck you Delta.” The blonde-haired earth pony snapped back as she righted the bottle of vodka that had toppled over. “I paid for the thing, you don’t need to make the lost booze even worse with the goddessdammed nagging.”

“You’re such a lightweight, you snaggle-toothed bitch.” Delta grinned back at her, helping to mop up the liquor.

“Cunt.” Bonesaw smiled, shoving the sopping napkins to one side.

“Whore.”

“Slut.”

“Goddesses, I wish.” Delta sighed, leaning back into the booth’s seat. “Where the hell are all the stallions tonight? It’s a damned clam-bake in here tonight.”

Nurse Bonesaw arched an eyebrow up in bemusement. “Uh… the bar’s empty, Delta.” She waved a hoof at the rest of the establishment, a hole in the wall bar named The Black Horse, which currently had only a small scattering of ponies littered around the facilities in small groups of ones or twos.

“What about those fillies?” Delta sniffed, nodding her head over at the bar toward a group of three young pegasi wearing garb from one of the local Las Pegasus universities.

“My cheerleaders?” Bonesaw asked, looking over longingly.

It always made Delta chuckle - Bonesaw had been calling the group ‘her cheerleaders’ ever since they’d started frequenting the bar the week prior. The way the sociopathic army medic drooled over their flanks made her seem more like a horny pubescent colt than a middle-aged mare.

“Yeah, your cheerleaders.” Delta clicked her tongue, shaking her head. “Clam-bake, like I said.”

“Since when have you been against gettin’ your rocks off with a little sapphic friction?” Bonesaw tapped her hoof on the table.

“Since those three confirmed they weren’t filly-foolers.” Delta sighed with a groan. “Seriously, did you forget just how badly you crashed and burned when you tried to pick them up three nights ago? Those three are only lookin’ to get mounted, not scissored…” Delta wistfully looked over at the three young fillies, giggling and drinking with each other. “Poor young things don’t know what they’re missing…”

“So, what I’m hearing is that you’d also be into tapping some of my little cheerleader’s asses.” Bonesaw teased as she reached back and began shuffling through her saddle-bag.

Delta looked back over to the three fillies… ‘cheerleaders’... their juicy flanks and diminutive pegasi bodies… the napes of their necks… the subtle curves of their wings. ‘Oh, how I’d love to make them squeal.’ She shook her head sadly.

“Of course I’d like to show them what an old MILF can do with her tongue. But they’re looking for a pony with different tackle dangling between their legs.”

“What if I could fix that little problem?” Bonesaw brought out two stoppered test tube vials with pride, depositing them onto the top of the still damp table.

Delta eyed the tube, which was filled with a glowing pink liquid, then glared up at her compatriot. “Really? What is that some kind of date rape drug?”

Bonesaw scoffed. “Ain’t enough of that shit on all of Equestria to get them to lay down with an ugly, accusatory bitch like you.” She slammed a hoof onto the table hard enough to make their bottles jump. “Can’t believe you’d think I’d stoop to that-”

“So what is it then…” Delta picked up a vial casually, inspecting just how viscous the substance inside truly was.

Bonesaw leaned in conspiratorially. “I swiped ‘em off the base, from the medical research facility. They were chuckin’ a whole batch out so I got a crate.” Bonesaw picked up the other vial, twisting it around so the military label was displayed. SX-CNG 07B. “See, the military knows that stallions can lug way more gear in and out on a daily basis, and that front-line infantry units tend to be better when predominantly male…”

“Uh-huh.”

“And with there being so many fewer male candidates to recruit, they figured… hey, why not just recruit a bunch of fillies and turn ‘em into colts with magic?” She tapped the vial. “And they kicked the project over to R&D to make some magic sauce that would do just that.”

Delta pushed the vial away from herself quickly. The image of herself as a stallion was weird and disconcerting - not something she was interested in. “No thanks, I have to deal with enough overgrown body fur as it is.”

“Relax! The eggheads couldn’t figure it out.” Bonesaw chuckled. “For all their funding, the best they could do was come up with a drink that gives a mare stallionbits for 24 hours… everything else stays exactly the same.” Bonesaw waggled her eyebrows. “The troops call it FUTAfuel.”

“Foo-da-fuel?”

“Some neighponese crap, I don’t know. It gives you a dick.”

Delta eyed the pink vial suspiciously, rolling it back toward herself carefully. “So… they fucked up?”

“Pft. Hardly,” Bonesaw grinned. “The army ordered even more of the stuff. I’m sure I’ll be prescribing assloads of it come heat season next spring. The girls’ barracks are gonna smell like a back-alley whorsehouse for weeks.”

Delta hesitated, eyeing the suspicious liquid with trepidation.

“What are you afraid of, you pussy?” Bonesaw sneered. “Worried that I’ll actually be able to prove that if I had a dick it would be bigger than yours?” She laughed.

“Wouldn’t surprise me, with how cavernous your loose, nasty snatch is.” Delta snapped back instinctively with playfulness… before getting nervous once again. “I dunno… I kind of like my genitals the way they are.”

“Aw c’mon, it’s just for one night! I mean, look at those tight little teen butts.” Bonesaw gestured at the tittering fillies. “Aren’t you curious what a stallion feels when he covers you and plows you into the headboard? They sure sound like they’re having fun.”

“In your case, I’m sure they’re just being polite, you overweight slut.” Delta ignored Bonesaw’s sputtered response. “...I’m… I’m gonna need a lot more booze before I do this.”

“Yesssss!” Bonesaw pumped her hoof in triumph as she unscrewed the half-full vodka bottle and began pouring two very generous shots. “I knew there was a reason you’re my best mortal enemy friend forever.”

Delta only shook her head as she downed the glassful of vodka with a single gulp.

Delta’s head was pounding.

That was not an uncommon feeling for her, particularly in her current environs; she was staring at herself in one of the mirrors of The Black Horse’s mare washroom, having just helped Bonesaw retch her guts into one of the toilets without soiling her mane.

Turning on the faucet to get the sink ready in case the headache was merely the antecedent to a similarly effusive display, she took stock at just how she had found herself in this situation.
…

She and Bonesaw had polished off the rest of that bottle of vodka… plus a whole second bottle of tequila… in less than an hour. It had been a noble effort to stave off the anxiety associated with suddenly gaining a few pounds of new body mass.

Very particularly sculpted body mass.

The liquid courage had helped some. But what had helped even more was the constant goading of Bonesaw - the snide comments about which mare would have the bigger size, which mare would be able to bed the most fillies, who was more scared…

And Delta had given as good as she got. Better even.

And finally, when the amount of juvenile prodding had reached the perfect pitch, when the intoxicating effects of the alcohol had raised just high enough…

Bonesaw had grabbed her vial, uncorked the stopper and chugged the entire contents in a single gulp, slamming the vial down on the table with enough hearty satisfaction that it cracked.

After a display like that, there was nothing that Delta could do but meet her challenge, grasping her own vial and slugging it back. The pink slime reminded her of a popular digestive aid that she frequently chugged straight from the bottle. Quickly, the cherry taste was replaced by a spicy burning heat, always an indicator of potent magical side-effects, as the fluid spilled down into her guts, churning with the alcohol already there.

She’d deposited her empty vial next to Bonesaw’s, both of the mares staring at one another triumphantly for a moment, proud that they’d managed to goad each other into attempting such a wild act.

A moment had passed.

Then another.

Delta had arched an eyebrow at her friend, silently asking what exactly was supposed to happen next. Bonesaw had opened her mouth, about to answer… when a very familiar shade of green had tinged her cheeks, and her cheeks puffed out, eyes suddenly wide in the knowledge that her body was very much about to eject the contents of her stomach.

What had followed was a time-honored tradition of one of the two mares sprinting to the back hall bathrooms, with the following in tow to make sure the other drinking compatriot would be OK.

…

And now she was here.

In the reflection of the mirror, she could see Bonesaw, now leaning against one side of the bathroom stall, recovering from the voluminous amount of fluid she had just expelled.

Obviously the highly experimental magical potion did not mix well with the stomach contents of hours worth of the mares’ debauch, a vile concoction of far too many liqueurs and far too little water.

Delta could tell something was off with her body. The headache was strange - not a booze type hangover… she only ever got those the next day… nor did she feel nauseous. Whatever had just plagued Bonesaw didn’t seem to be happening to her; Delta didn’t think she was about to blow chunks.

Then it hit her.

The first wracking surge of heat that bubbled through her gut, as if the veins beneath her bellybutton were transporting liquid magma to her crotch… little pipes of lava throbbing under her teats as they spilled into her pelvic region.

“Ugh… f-fuck!” Delta snarled, gripping the edges of the sink as the heat emptied from her gut and singed her lower body. It was intolerable. She wouldn’t be able to withstand this level of burning, searing pain.

Then, just as quickly as it had started, it stopped.

A dull, throbbing ache was left all across her lower abdomen, her gut… her nethers.

She stumbled away from the sink, slamming into the wall as she did so. The sharpness of the burning feeling was still with her, stunning her reactions with fear that a second wave might come as she slumped to the bathroom floor, leaning heavily back against the wall until her bottom met the ground.

“Unnghh…” The dull groan escaped her muzzle as the throbs began to intensify, an aching, bruising feeling through all the bits of her body that had received the flaming load of magical essence.

It was especially sore in her marehood.

She’d known herself to run fairly hot when she was aroused. She knew the twisting, contorting ache that could affect her when she would endure her heats… caused by the flood of too much blood through the capillaries of her sensitive sexual organs - the lips, bits, tunnel, teats swelling and pressing against nerve endings to an extent that could arouse while also cramping and hampering.

But this was something else entirely.

She could feel her lips swelling, inflating - filling with blood like a balloon held underneath a kitchen faucet. Growing out from her body into two egg-shaped rondels and sagging away from herself. As they touched one another, now welling enough to cover up the opening to her marehood, there was a strange feeling of her skin melding together, fusing as if her body were actually made of clay and the artist had smeared the two balls together into a single pouch. At the same time, she could feel something inside her gut shifting, moving. A sharp pain as her feminine bits shifted away from her deepest insides and began shifting down and out. She could feel her ovaries slip into the new balls hanging off of her - the weight of them increasing as they thickened and grew into the testicles demanded by the potion.

She had balls.

Her uterus and skene’s glands slid down to the bottom of her pelvic floor, where the seminal vesicles (once her fallopian tubes) traced up the dangling pouch of skin and back into her body. Morphing and twisting, it connected and surrounded the tubes, shrinking and condensing into a spongy, muscular blob - attaching this strange organ to her new, dangly, plumbing.

She had a prostate.

Delta looked down at herself. Her eyes were drawn downward, over the small rise of her teats and tuft of her pubic fur, until they found the small protruding nub of her clitoris.

Except it wasn’t so small.

The usually pink bud was a throbbing red, bulging out from between her lips like an angry welt. Stiff, sore, and over-sensitive. With each pulse of her heartbeat, it grew larger, at first only millimeter by millimeter, fattening and elongating as it did so. Then it started growing faster, in pulses that could be measured in inches. The spongy flesh of her clit was fattening, thickening, stretching out from her body and spilling down her groin. At the edges of her once bit-sized lovebud, knobby ridges were forming weighing down the protrusion as it arched over like a limp banana and began to snake its way down between her thighs.

She felt her lower belly skin stretching and being pulled around the base of the newly elongating thing - forming a new sheath. Underneath that rippling layer, veins and other plumbing stretched and strained, racing up the still growing shaft and erupting out of the center of the newly formed cock-head, forming a new urethral opening.

With a groan, Delta reached down to rub the sore protrusion of flesh. The new skin felt so hot under the touch of her hooves. The slick skin ran through her underhooves, like a snake slithering away from her as inch after inch of new stallionflesh grew from her body. A rigid ring of cock bumped across her hoof tips, as she continued to extend… and now the shaft running through her hooves became considerably thicker. The shade of flesh quickly turned from the bright pink of her former clitoris through a mottled speckle of color until it became a dark, blood-filled blue. Finally, the lengthy mass of floppy shaft finished growing, hanging down so far it rested against her still seated bottom on the cold tile of the bathroom floor.

She had a cock.

There was no time for her to take in the sight as it began to grow. No longer in length… but in stiffness.

She’d had this feeling before - the sense of her lips getting plump or her clit starting to grind into her mound when she felt horny… but this was on a whole other level. Throb after throb of hot blood steamed into her new appendage, bulging out every vein on its surface as she became more and more erect. The feeling was incredible - like some monster serpent was attached to her and rising, draining her of her essence, stretching her skin to the bursting point as it became stuffed with her arousal.

‘Is this really what it feels like for stallions when they pop a boner?’ She groaned internally.

Pump after pump of blood made her shaft arch upward, like a bending banana slowly straightening… until it flopped backward onto her belly with a heavy thud, tracing up between her teats and further as it became more and more erect. Her cockhead was widening now too - the knobby ridges spreading out further to make a more defined edge. The whole thing felt so hot and heavy on her body.

Inch by inch it stretched up… until it finally reached her belly-button. At that point it stopped lengthening, instead of thickening and raising away from her body from the pressure of the blood coursing through it, slowly lifting the whole weight of cock off of her and sticking it up until the air, like some heavy piece of construction equipment straining up to its full height.

Then it was done.

She let out a huge gasp of air, not even realizing how she’d been holding her breath. Right there, attached to her very body, was a 12-inch ponycock, in all it’s thick, veiny glory.

“Celestia’s teats…” Bonesaw was the one who broke the silence, her gasp muttered from over in the stall where her wide eyes were fixed on Delta. “...it worked.”

“N-no shit,” Delta grunted, touching her stiff cock with an unsure prodding boop that made the whole thing bob and wiggle. The touch sent off an unfamiliar tingle of excitement through her - not so untouchably sensitive as a clitoris, but definitely still enticing. She could see why so many colts could get addicted to hoofing themselves off.

She struggled to get up to all fours, wincing and grunting with each awkward touch of new body parts against her legs and belly as she rose. The head and shaft scraped against her lower belly and her balls swung between her thighs strangely. Everything felt so… disorganized, strange.

And terribly, terribly exposed.

Even glancing in the mirror Delta could immediately see the obvious erection under her belly, the bright pink of her cockhead as it bobbed underneath her. In the past, she’d sometimes scoffed under her breath at the awkward antics of stallions that had tried to hide their accidental arousals in public. She wouldn’t do that anymore.

Just how the hay was she supposed to even make her way over to the fillies without looking like a damn freak? They really hadn’t thought this through.

“Uh… how do I…” Delta reached under herself, grasping her new penis with a small wince and trying to see if she could somehow tuck it or move it so it was less obvious. The damn thing was so much harder and stiffer than she imagined - it always seemed so easy to jerk a stallion’s cock around when she wasn’t the owner of it. “...how do I make this thing go… down…”

Bonesaw grinned with a drunken, groggy-eyed smile. “Babe, if I gotta explain that to ya, I have serious questions about what you’ve been doin’ with the stallions you pick-up every night.”

“Fuck off... “ Delta snarled. “Not in the mood for jokes.” She shuffled her wings, extending them downward in a way that looked very strange for a pegasus… but which provided some cover against a pony trying to glance under her belly.

It would have to do.

Bonesaw slapped her on the back, making her jump.

She hadn’t noticed the other pony getting up as she’d been adjusting herself. The startle sent her new bits bouncing against her belly with little shots of pleasure - and even worse… she could feel a slick wetness dripping from her bell-end and leaving itself in her fur.

As a mare, she was used to concealing dripping genitalia. Usually with the help of a nearby seat. She had no idea how stallions managed.

“C’mon… didja forget why we did this?” Bonesaw slurred, throwing a foreleg over her shoulder and leaning into her with her boozy breath. “I’ll be your wingmare - let’s go get you laid, ‘n maybe I can get sloppy seconds with one of ‘em!”

Delta stumbled forward, feeling the dull lack of coordination that came with a long night of drinking, leaning on her friend as much as she leaned on her.

Part of her was convinced this would end in failure, but that part was drowned out by the intoxicated and excited part of her mind that had more than a little interest… and far too much liquid confidence… to not at least try with those fillies.

So she pushed through the swinging bathroom door...

...to see that all three fillies had left the establishment.

Shit.

Author's Note

Are you enjoying the story?

PLEASE LIKE AND COMMENT!

I write for your feedback! I would love to hear more about whether you like Delta and Apogee and what you think of them - please share and keep my motivations fueled!

Here we go! I have always like the Delta - Bonesaw interaction, two surly middle-aged mares ready to tear into each other... but also constantly on the prowl.

Let me know what you think of Bonesaw (not my OC FYI) and whether you'd like me to write more of her!