When next I shared a dream with Twilight, I found myself sprawled on the ground before her. She was beautiful, she smiled, but although she wasn’t happy to see me, she was brimming with self satisfaction.

“I’ve been doing some research and I think I can help you.”

“Help me?” I asked. The interval since our last session had plunged me into a self abyss of catatonic despair. It took effort to dredge up a reply to her statement. And couldn’t she see my arm was already healed? Even the bruising had faded in the weeks after Leon had healed the fractured bone. Now there was no visible indication the injury had ever been there.

“With your pathological inability to keep your mouth shut.” She glared down at me. “You will give me your consent to transform you.”

Oh. At least she wasn’t proposing try to eliminate my love, merely silence me somehow.

Yes, I nodded, finally starting to realize that I would be spending time with her again.

Twilight smiled triumphantly, and spoke a word. As light blazed around me I realized I was in the centre of a magic circle.

Twilight howled with laughter and madness.

What had she done to me? Sight was gone. I was not in darkness or blind: the ability to comprehend light or darkness was completely gone; my mind was now housed in a brain without the facility to even remember sight; I knew shape of the word but could not remember what it meant, only that it was gone. It was disturbing but not quite overwhelming, I could maintain my calm. Just take a deep…

I fully panicked when I realized that I was not breathing, no longer knew how to breathe.

“Calm down, calm down!” Twilight was calling “You don’t need to breathe, you don’t even have lungs.”

I forced the panic down – a task all the more difficult without deep breathing to focus on.

“Better?”

I couldn’t even try to reply – if I even had a mouth I had no idea how to use it.

“You can’t even ask me to call you by name,” she gloated. I wasn’t even sure how I was hearing her. It wasn’t telepathy, I could feel the vibrations of her speech over a large array of my new sensorium – surely I no longer possessed any hearing organ as specific or localized as ears. “Because whatever you are now doesn’t have one. It doesn’t speak, doesn’t breathe, doesn’t orgasm. We can play. All. Night. Long.”

She paused.

“Agreed?”

Unable to speak, I attempted to move. Parts of me felt a sensation of movement, but I still had no idea what shape or size I was, could not even separate the signals reaching my brain into specific senses or limbs. A broad spectrum static of unintelligible sensations flooded my awareness.

“One spasm of inchoate thrashing for no, two for yes.”

I thrashed my unknown limbs, waited, and moved them again. Tactile sensations grew more coherent as I learned to separate them from the unknown senses.

“Excellent.” There was a pause and in spite of my lack of sight I knew exactly the thoughtful expression on Twilight’s face. “The safe-word will be ‘futile’… ha ha ha ha!”

The joke was at my expense but it was funny. I shook and twitched with the humor.

Slowly I began to find my way through the maze of unknown proprioception. When one moving part touched another I could map the movable parts of my new body. My form was still a mystery, but I was beginning to get an idea what parts were close to each other.

“Okay, here I come,” she said before I was ready, “don’t stick any of those tentacles anywhere that's going to get you kicked, ‘cos I don’t think you could dodge very well right now, and you know I like kicking.”

That was another clue: some of my moving parts were tentacles.

Something brushed up against me – it must be her coat that I was feeling. Cautiously I began to exploring her body. The touch of individual hairs was starting to clue me in to scale as they brushed across clusters of touch sensitive nerves. I stroked her coat, smoothing every hair into place and rubbing the tension out of her muscles.

“Mmmm, I’ll be the little lost filly and you can be the horny rape monster—” She broke off as I pulled away. I couldn't speak to explain my opposition to that kind of fantasy; instead I tried to make myself as small as possible.

“Oh, for crying out loud!” she grumped. “You don’t approve of that?”

I waved a single tentacle as dismissively as I could.

“Fine,” she snapped, “I will be the bitchy, entitled, and demanding Princess and you will be the worm of a peasant who gets her off if he bucking knows what’s good for him! Satisfactory?”

I wiggled my entire complement of movable limbs twice for ‘yes’- starting at one end of my body and passing to the other end, before pausing and doing the same in reverse.

“Hmmf!” she snorted and I could smell her anger spike for an instant. But behind the fading aroma of anger was the stronger perfume of her lust, ready for me to resume.

I followed her voice – much of my entire body was sensitive to sound and I was learning how to tell directions. I reached out and traced the line of her jaw with the tip of one tentacle, slid down her neck confining my touch to the border between dermatomes, dancing between two different sets of receptors. I could feel the sensations split into separate impulses, traveling separately to her brain, arriving out of sync in a sensuous tingle; she shivered and and leaned into my touch as I brought more tentacles into contact.

Like a masseuse I rubbed along her body, finding tight muscles, relaxing them. As I worked down her neck, and along her wings, a further piquancy layered onto the broad spectrum of non-visual input flooding my senses. From this far away I could already sense the moisture of her marehood, redolent with the fragrance of her need, enticing me to sup upon her desire. Instead of rushing, I reached several tentacles under her belly, began massaging her inner thighs. She shifted her hooves to stand with legs further apart, but still I resisted the need to become drunken upon the heady wine dripping from her.

With two more tentacles I reached for the base of her horn and encircled the sensitive base.

“Stop teasing me,” she gasped, “stick something in!”

I hesitated for an instant – I wasn’t completely sure how well anything I had to offer was going to fit. Then I slipped the tentacle into her and was instantly intoxicated by her taste as sensed by nerves far more refined than a human tongue. Instinct told me to start thrusting, hard. I compromised with myself and slid slowly in and out. My cock had never been able to feel the inside of her with such exquisite detail.

She sounded like she was enjoying, but I had to try to ask. I wiggled a dozen-ish tentacles where they had been kneading her lower back, and then reduced the pressure of contact to a light brush that barely registered on her nerves. I repeated the motion to make a question: a tactile “Yes?”

“Unghh, yes, yes,” she replied, “like that.”

Reassured, I pounded my princess until she came.

—

She was gasping for breath, wobbling on her hooves, but, “more,” she demanded, “don’t stop.”

How was she still this horny?

I was a little bit in awe of her lust. What could give her a drive like this? Had she been like this every night, with every partner brought to her by the random dream sex spell? How many had it been in the weeks and months between our encounters? I could never ask such an impertinence.

Her need seemed endless, but despite occupying an utterly alien body I still managed to please her for this interlude. For that I was thankful.

My momentary sense of satisfaction was cut short by a fresh spate of verbal abuse.

“You look like a cross between a squashed colioptra diabolucus foetidus and a unidentified cephalopod. Almost—” she stopped speaking to moan as she neared another orgasm and then leered out afterwards “—as ugly as your human form.”

What was this, grade school? Next would be name calling or booger flicking. Maybe if I survived long enough she would start passing me notes when she kicked me. But for now I knew how to end the insults. I braced several less flexible limbs against the ground to stabilize myself and—

Twilight shrieked merrily as I swept her off her hooves, flipped her onto her back. I held her in the air and began caressing her neck and shoulders in short strokes like a torrent of kisses. The tentacle filling her vagina had slipped out when I flipped her; now her tail was flipped upwards, blocking the fresh tentacle I brought up to enter her. Slowly I pulled her tail aside, held her legs apart. When she said nothing to stop me, I reached with two of my jointed limbs. Carefully I traced the chitinous points across her skin and spread her labia – now she was truly exposed. Homing in on the scent of her, I re-entered her sensuous warmth, thrusting deep and solid again. I removed my armored limbs lest she wiggle against the points and harm herself; then I slid another tentacle ready to partake of her heat and wetness. For an instant she shivered under the approaching tentacle and then I slipped it into her vagina alongside the one already thrusting therein, stretching, filling, but careful not to hurt her.

“Oh–!”

That didn’t sound like the safe-word. Her moan was cut off by the tentacle I slid deep into her mouth – eagerly she sucked it. She was poised on the edge of another orgasm and the two tentacles writhed inside her to unleash it. I brought another tentacle to her clitoris and she exploded in pleasure.

“You’re right, Princess,” I thought as she climaxed, cradled in the many-limbed embrace of my love, “I can do this all night long.”

“…all night long...” she echoed, mumbling around the tentacle in her mouth.

—

How long the buzzing had gone on I could not tell. It had started as a subliminal sensation which had eventually grown to a roar. But this was a different sensory channel than the input which had allowed me to receive Twilight’s voice. Then came a pervading awareness of something being wrong; I didn’t know if I should interpret these nerve impulses as pain. With no voice, I couldn’t ask Twilight for help, could not even signal my distress as the sense of wrongness grew stronger.

,,I think this body is dying,, I thought to Twilight and realized that the unspoken words had reached her. It seemed I had unfolded another aspect of this strange body.

,,How did you do that?,, She replied ,,Get out of my head! And what do you mean dy—,,

Something was definitely going wrong. Hurriedly I set Twilight back on her hooves lest I drop her; my tentacles felt weak and floppy as I released my grip.

Even as consciousness was failing I finally began to understand the white noise of signals reaching my brain from alien nerves. It was something like sight, but spread in all directions around me, all at once. I could not direct my vision in any particular direction, it was all flooding in from three hundred and sixty degrees. There was no colour, or brightness, only depth and distance. But there was no time to ponder further, even as I gained understanding the sense was failing.

,,Oh my beloved Princess, save me! Futile, futile!,, I sent a last soundless cry as the dream slipped to a void of nothingness.

—

Twilight found herself suddenly alone in the dream world. Still unstable and dazed from the series of sweeping orgasms she had extracted from her shape shifted…

—partner?

—sex slave?

She didn’t really have a word for him. Certainly not ‘lover’, right?

Unbidden, another word sprang to mind.

—victim?

Wasn’t she supposed to do something if he said ‘futile’? Had she killed him?

She spoke hesitantly.

“Tangent?”

Author's Note

As a self-challenge, I re-told this chapter from a different perspective.

[Adult story embed hidden]