A Changeling's Indulgence
`Infiltration is hard for most people. They've got to learn their target, every pattern and movement they make, who they have lunch with and what hoofball team they like. Every detail to the most precise point, making sure you know everything there is to know.
Honestly, shape shifting just feels like cheating.
I never did it for any cause, I was just bored bored, lonely, and making a living was easier when everyone saw a regular pony instead of a freaky bug. Speaking of...
I look myself over in the mirror, making sure I'd gotten everything right again. White fur? Check. Red mane with the off white streak? Check. Black tips of the ears? Perfect. Now to just kill time before… wait hold on! I shake my head, a burst of green flame forming over my forehead as a horn appears. There, perfect!
The door bursts open and the cream colored earth pony stallion bursts in carrying several sacks of groceries. Mostly beer, I wagered. He loved the stuff, maybe a bit too much, but who was I to complain. "Hey, Beltway," he says, raspy voice friendly. "Sorry I'm late, couldn't get away from the nag until she left." He turns to trot into the kitchen, giving me a good look at the purple book stamped on his flank.
Cookbook. He'd told me once that he had gotten his cutie mark after learning to cook, a passion of his that I always loved to hear him talk about at the office. It was cute, honestly. Not that he talked about it often, our group was pretty focused on cooking up revolution, not ravioli. I dunno, he's the cook.
I shake my head to clear it of thoughts as he re enters the room, a beer clutched in his mouth as he flashes me a smile. "So, Belt," he says after putting it down, trotting up to nuzzle me affectionately. "How were classes today?"
I chuckle, moreso at his words than anything else. "Eh, they were alright" I say, knowing full well I hadn't actually gone. Beltway, my current identity, was supposed to be a disillusioned student at the local community college. He didn't care of course, just the standard exchange of pleasantries. "How's things with the group? Anything I should be looking out for?"
Honestly, I'm still amazed Cook hadn't caught onto me. I'd been with his little gang of anarchists for about six months, joined up just after the Littlehorn Tragedy. Ponies Advocating for an End to Conflict, they called themselves. Bit of an ironic name for a group of wannabe terrorists, but hey I hated the crown just as much as they did, and Cook was pretty convincing in his speeches. That's where I'd met him, at a rally in Fillydelphia where he and his girlfriend (the nag, he called her) had been speaking at an anti-war protest. Not that he'd ever know he had met me then, I had a different face then.
Cook shakes his head with a chuckle, rustling my name with a hoof. "Nah, kid, but when I hear something you'll be the first to know." He trots past me and settles down on the comfortable looking couch, reaching over to flip on the radio. "Now c'mon, sit down and take a load off, bud." I hated when he called me bud, reminded me that I was supposed to be younger than him. Not by much, but considering we were probably the same age it was pretty embarrassing.
Nevertheless, I do as I'm asked, settling into my place on the floor in front of him, looking up at Cook with the widest, most innocent eyes I could muster. No reason to drag this out, we both knew why we were here.
Cook smiles at me, reaching down to brush my mane out of my eye as he stretches out, front legs resting on the cushions and rear legs out in front of him, hooves almost touching the floor. "Good little unicorn. Now, you know what to do." He chuckles, knowing my eyes are entranced by the mottled cock and heavy looking balls resting in front of me.
We'd started doing this not long after we'd met, after I'd walked in on him with a few dirty magazines featuring buck-on-buck stuff. I didn't mind, gender is a non-issue for me, and knowing he'd been checking me out I suggested maybe we go back to my place. Celestia above, we knew it was wrong. Guy has a very nice girlfriend and everything, and as far as he knew I was at least a decade and a half his junior. But, shit, that was part of the fun. We knew this wouldn't last forever, hell I figured I only had a few weeks to go before I disappeared, so why not make the most of it?
I leaned forward, pressing my muzzle against the smooth skin of his balls and inhale, fighting the urge to cough. I hated this part, the smell when it was clear he hadn't showered, but I knew he loved it and frankly that was enough. Besides, beneath all that, he did smell pretty great. Above me I hear him groan softly, followed by the hiss and pop of the beer opening. On the radio, a news broadcast about the war cuts out, replaced by twangy country music.
I press my face closer, inhaling another lung full of his musky stench before I open my mouth, sticking my tongue out to run it gently against the burning hot skin of his nutsack, feeling the shape of his balls twitch at the touch. He tastes much like he smells, bitter and unpleasant, but I was too love-deprived and horny to care much, instead continuing to bathe the virile sack.
I can hear his breathing become irregular, as it did when he was really turned on. The heat of his cock, resting firmly against my snout and forehead, is almost unbearable, but it's no fun if I move right onto that. Instead, I open a bit wider, delicately wrapping my lips around one of the tender spheres hidden away in its sack, feeling him shift and let out a soft moan as my tongue toys with it before releasing it with a *pop*. "You taste good today, daddy." I hear myself whisper as I look back up at him, most of his face obscured by his cock still pressed against my nose.
He bites his lip, one of his hooves tapping against the pillow. I grin internally, that means he's getting into it. "You're doing great, sweetie," he manages to say through clenched teeth, gasping again as my tongue gently rubs against the base of his dick. "Now, keep going. Daddy's feeling real pent up."
I nod and begin to drag my tongue against the underside of his cock, rolling my eyes as I do. I hate calling him that, even more than I hate every time he calls me bud, or sweetie, or baby. It's demeaning, and I cannot stand how small it makes me feel. But, as my tongue makes contact with the massive ring of flesh midway up his length I remember why I put up with it all.
I let out a soft moan of my own, feeling my own cock pressed against the cold tile floor as my tongue dances around the ring of his cock, leaving a glistening trail in its wake. Above me, Cook takes a sip of his beer, eyes squeezed shut as I tease him. I can practically feel his arousal in the occasional twitch of his cock, the heavy slab of flesh bouncing off my face each time. Fuck me sideways, I can't get enough of him.
Without giving him warning I raise my head and plant a soft, tender kiss on the tip of his flared cock, hearing him cough softly. I feel a blob of precum soak into the fur around my lips, and on instinct I lick it up, making sure my tongue runs against his head as well. His cum is sweet, a nice change from the bitter taste of his cock. But, I couldn't have one without the other, at least that's what I tell myself as I open wide and wrap my lips around the flare of his cock.
I feel him shift again, one of his hooves resting on the back of my head and slowly pulling me closer, pushing more of his cock into my mouth and throat. Of all the things I do for him, I think he loves when I blow him the most. Not that I'm complaining, I've definitely gotten really good at it since we've started.
I stop myself just before I hit the ring halfway down his cock, looking up at him curiously. His face is twisted in an expression of pained lust, eyes squeezed shut and biting his lip. I chuckle silently. For a violent asshole, he sure makes the cutest faces when he gets a blowjob.
Suddenly I feel his other hoof descend onto my head and his eyes open to stare down at me. "Now, baby, don't stop now," he groans, beginning to buck his hips and forcing more of himself down my gullet. "Daddy's been saving up all week for you. Why don't you let him take over."
I let out a choking sound, fake of course but real enough to cause my throat to tighten around him. It never took long to switch him from passive to dominant, which frankly was fine by me. Look, he may be a disgusting asshole, but fuck if it wasn't hot to let him take control. Besides, I knew this meant he couldn't last much longer.
Sure enough, the deeper he goes the more I can feel him twitching, hell I can see those balls of his bouncing as his body prepares him to bottom out inside me. I moan again, closing my eyes and hearing him do the same, followed by a whispered utterance of "Oh, baby..." My vision blurs as I feel my snout pressed up against his belly, groaning softly as his entire length stretches out my poor throat.
He grunts, pulling me as far down his cock as he can, and as his balls rest against my sore chin, I feel him cum. On instinct I swallow, dragging another breathy groan from the buck. As I feel his grip loosen I slowly lift off him, feeling even more pumps of baby batter trickle down my throat from higher and higher up. I linger at his flare though, running my tongue around the tip and allowing a pool of his cum to pool into my mouth before I finally release him, feeling at least one final load splash against my muzzle. I stand, lifting my front hooves up onto the couch as I close in and kiss him, savoring the feeling of my cum soaked tongue mingling with his.
As we pull apart, a string of cum and saliva hanging between us, he flashes a sultry grin at me, and I know for sure that this is just the start of the rest of my night.
Author's Note
So, if you've made it this far thank you! I wrote this dumb thing after a brainstorming session with my friend Hyde on discord ran way too long, and I just had to write something from it. Mimic was a character I intended to include in a hypothetical Fallout Equestria fic I had come up with years ago, but never did anything with.
Hope you enjoyed it! Will I ever write something again for publishing? I dunno. Will I continue this? Maybe, if there's demand for it. Comments and critiques are welcome, encouraged even! And thank you for reading.