Symbiosis

Chapters

Chapter 1 - Migration
Chapter 2 - Communion
Chapter 3 - Assimilation
Chapter 4 - Interdependence
Prologue

Chapter 1 - Migration

migration | maɪ̯ˈɡɹeɪ̯.ʃn̩ | noun
An act of moving to live in another place.

Ponyville in the early evening picks up a bit from the late afternoon – last-minute shopping before stores close, couples out on evening dates, that sort of thing. For me, though, because of my stay at the Spa I felt compelled to check on my print shop. How much further had they gotten without me to do my part? Or rather, how much further behind?

But when I got there, the front door was locked. Peering through the window, I also saw the lights were off, and the Wondertype’s crucible had even been switched off. Normally at this hour I would still be typing out slugs (this time reading them myself since my apprentice would have gone home), trying to hit some arbitrary quota before calling it a day. I sighed – clearly I was too late to get an idea of where they were, progress-wise, especially with Minion Fleuron at the keyboard.

“Back so soon?”

I turned around. Lorem knew me all too well – he’d stayed behind, waiting for me to come inevitably crawling back to work.

“You’d honestly be shocked how quickly Minion hammered those entries out,” he told me. “We stayed on the clock for about ten more minutes, just for her to finish up all the Ms.”

My eyes widened. “All of them?” I asked. “But that would’ve taken me another half a day!”

“Correction: it would’ve taken the old you – ” he prodded my chest – “another half a day. I trust you went to the Spa, per my suggestion? Got freshened up and so forth?”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” I scratched the back of my neck. “I just wonder, now that Minion’s had a real trial by fire. . . you think she’ll want to do that again?” I glance back through the shop’s window. “I still feel guilty for hanging her out to dry.”

“Don’t.” He nudged me away from the door. “From the looks of things, she’s eager to do it all over again tomorrow. Matter of fact, if you don’t show up early, she just might bump you off the Wondertype altogether.”

“I’d like to see her try.” Even with a mask of sarcasm, I could tell he sensed my nervousness in my voice. The truth is that typesetting was my first and best distraction from my perverse thoughts and daydreams. To have someone rob me of it, much less my own apprentice – somehow it seemed unbearable. Certainly it’s good to see her become a proper printer like myself, but if I be relegated to the ornamentals. . . it’s only a matter of time before they return in full force.

Of course, I could just buy a second Wondertype for the shop, and while that would bring the benefits of being able to typeset something twice as fast, it would also create the headache of having to maintain two machines. Not to mention the initial cost. . . .

Regardless, the shop was closed, the workday was well over, and even I had to concede that fact. “Guess I’ll see you here tomorrow at eight?”

“You bet. ’Til next time, brother of mine!” He turned on his frog and trotted off to his hotel room. (I had invited him to stay at my home, but he preferred not to impose on me – which, now that I think of it, does explain why he’s never called me to help at his Canterlot print shop.)

The Sun had started going down, the red pyrelike embers flaring up hot to the west, and I started my way back home, whistling a tune I often heard on the radio. As I walked, my mind couldn’t help but wander back to the spa, to the bathhouse – what if Aloe had never knocked? What if Chrysalis and Vardi were able to have their way with me? Ah, but such wishful thinking was meant for another time – I had to get home, cook my dinner, wash off the dust, dirt, and sweat from the print shop and the outside, and at least try to get enough sleep to focus on this monumental project Princess Twilight had for me.

Hmm. . . perhaps I could strike a deal with Minion, I pondered. I could work the Wondertype in the morning, she could work it after our lunch break. . . yeah. That could work. That could work just fine. . . .

⁂

Before I knew it, I was facing my front door. Home sweet home – for a given value of ‘sweet.’ In truth, it was a lonely affair, though those feelings were tempered by the fact that privacy was a product of solitude. It was lonely, but by the same token, it was safe.

I fished for my house key, but as soon as my fingers found it, my eye darted to the window. I realized something wasn’t adding up. Yes, one of the lights was on, the one inside the kitchen. I distinctly remembered making sure all the lights in my home were off before leaving for work, so a detail like this was going to stand out to me.

How was I going to approach this? Had someone broken in? To steal something? I didn’t keep anything valuable in the kitchen. To wait to do something to me, then? Whatever it was, I had better be careful. Key still in hand, I slowly and quietly unlocked my front door and sneaked into my own home.

Even before I closed the door behind me, quietly as I could, I could tell this wasn’t an ordinary break-in. To wit, my nose picked up the scent of garlic cooking on the stove. Someone broke in to. . . cook something? Still quiet, as quiet as I could manage, I crept into the kitchen, rounded the corner – and what I saw was the absolute last thing I expected.

Roseluck was in here, wearing an apron, cooking up dinner. She was quick to notice me, however – “Welcome home, darling!” she greeted me. “Long day today?”

Alarm bells were ringing in my head. I distinctly remember talking to Roseluck on the way to the Spa today; she knew full well why I was heading there, and why; she had zero romantic feelings toward me, certainly not anything I could perceive as ‘romantic’; and yet, here she was, in my kitchen, and the first thing she asked me was ‘long day today?’ like we’ve always been a couple?

How am I supposed to respond to that?

“It, ah. . . .” I tried to improvise a response right on the spot, but years of taking instructions from manuscripts held me back from an immediate one. “It went alright?” As alright as it could have, in my state of fatigue at least. Now it’s your turn. “What I want to know is, what are you doing in my house? In my kitchen, no less?”

She giggled – a very soft, high-pitched one – then looked at me with what I could only describe as a genuine sparkle of joy in her eyes. “I just thought you might want somepony special in your life,” she simply answered, “for a change.” She winked at me, then grabbed the saucepan to pour a dollop of tomato sauce onto a bowl of spaghetti. After dusting the surface with some Parmaresian, she grabbed it and took it over to the table.

That’s when I noticed she was wearing an apron and nothing else.

Her cutie marks were in full view, and her rear end had a bit more of a jiggle to it than I distinctly remember from seeing her. I mean, not that I ever went out of my way to stare at her or anything! Really! I don’t! I just. . . just liked the way she wears her hair, I promise! But then she set the bowl onto the table, and when she did she made a slow and deliberate show of bending over.

For the first time in my life, I found myself staring directly at Roseluck’s. . . well, rose. Is it normally that wet?

That familiar burning in my cheeks had returned in full force, and to make matters worse, my clothes were starting to tighten around my nethers. I didn’t dare look back up until I heard the chair creaking – by then Roseluck had completed dinner. “Aren’t you gonna sit down?” she asked. “You must be famished after a long day of work.”

Aren’t you too? Working in the park on a hot day couldn’t be easy. I sat down, taking a look at what she had made for me. Besides the spaghetti, she had also taken the liberty of grilling some fresh vegetables for me: carrots, broccoli, potatoes, mushrooms (well, that’s not a vegetable per se, but you get the point), mixed up and served on a plate. Off to the side was a glass of ice water to chase it down.

Roseluck had seated herself opposite from me, leaning forward, with her apron tugged down to expose her (rather considerable) cleavage – but something was still off about the sight. “Not having anything yourself?” I pointed to her empty part of the table. No grilled veggies of her own, no spaghetti, nothing. She had prepared just enough for me, and me alone.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.” She beamed at me. “You just have your din-dins, honey!”

“Nuh-uh.” I narrowed my eyes at her. “Something’s up. This isn’t like you, Rose.”

“C’mon now,” she insisted, nudging the plate closer to me, “you need to get some food in your hungry tummy. I made it with love, after all.”

And that’s when the bit dropped. Roseluck, a mare I’ve had my eyes on since I was a young colt and she was a filly, here in my home, cooking my dinner, wearing an apron with no underwear, deliberately flashing her most intimate parts of herself to me, insisting that I eat while she does not. . . of course. Why didn’t I spot it sooner?

“. . . Vardi?”

She giggled – before bursting out in laughter. “Took you long enough, you dork!” It took her a few moments to compose herself after another fit of laughter. “Heh. . . heh-heh-heh. . . honestly. . . I thought the extra jiggle in my butt would’ve tipped you off.” She cleared her throat. “But anyway. Jig’s up, I know. But I’m not gonna shed this skin just yet.” She tapped the plate of veggies. “I noticed you haven’t tried anything yet.”

Not the answer I was expecting, but under the circumstances I guess it makes sense. I stuck a fork in a carrot and brought it to my mouth. Then I stopped. I raised my eyebrow at her, thinking she might’ve played another of her changeling tricks on me.

“Oh, that. No tricks, no gimmicks, just good food for you.” She leaned back, but did nothing about the apron still exposing her cleavage. “I’ll explain as you eat. Now dig in already!”

True to her word, as soon as I stuck the carrot in my mouth, my tongue was overwhelmed with. . . something I can only describe as goodness, as if the general word was distilled into a single spice. The grill marks didn’t just look picture-perfect, they also imparted a char that I couldn’t get enough of. Add to that an apparent pepper-based marinade, and I’d say this dish was just. . . perfect. Simply perfect.

‘Roseluck,’ meanwhile, breathed in deeply, apparently taking in my newfound love for the food. I guess it really doesn’t matter what that love is meant for, as far as a changeling’s concerned. Love is love. As she breathed out, however, I couldn’t help but notice a muted green-blue glow shining from her throat. “Oh, right.” She snapped her fingers. “I know we got interrupted in the middle of our, shall we say, session at the spa, but, well. . . let’s just say my Queen saw something in you, a certain spark of potential.”

I nodded for her to continue, potato on my fork.

“Like we told you, we need love to live,” she went on. “I’d explain how that works, but then we’d be here all night and it’s not the point anyway; point is – ” she leaned back forward, once again giving me an eyeful of her chest – “the Hive isn’t doing so hot these days.” She had lowered her voice. “Ever since my Queen’s disastrous invasion of Canterlot, you ponies have gotten a lot better at spotting us. Consequently, it’s almost impossible to get enough love for the Hive to survive; day by day we grow closer to collapse.”

I tilted my head. “So where do I come into this?”

“It’s easy to gather up love, simple enough to get away with it – but much harder to hide it in the meantime.” She grabbed her breasts. “As you well know, and as you’ve seen earlier today, we tend to swell up big and full when we’re overfed, which usually calls us out sooner than any lapse in character. ‘That which is hoarded soon is lost’ – that’s our proverb, anyway.”

She somehow leaned in closer to me, just as I started on the pasta. “You, however, are not prone to that fault. You actually like it when we swell up, bigger and bigger with more and more love – and with a few adjustments on where we store it on ourselves, we can create a feedback loop that just might actually bring us back from the brink.”

I flinched as green flames shot up from the base of her chair. In the blink of an eye, Vardi sat opposite in her true form. What was more, however, was a green amulet clasped around her neck. “Which brings me to the question of getting it back to the Hive,” she continued, this time in her normal voice. “Some time ago, between the Canterlot débacle and now, we recovered a book from the Supernal Sisters’ old fortress, one from the Crystal Empire. Several pages showed us how to move magic from one focus to another – instantly, as if in the same space.” She pointed at the amulet. “We modified that spell – ”

“To shift love over to your hive from here,” I finished. She nodded. “Meaning. . . .”

“I can gather up as much love in the field as I can,” she surmised for me, “for as long as I like, and never get any bigger for it. With these telephile amulets, it all gets sent straight to the larders.” She leaned back again. “But of course, that last bit is a nonissue for you, isn’t it? So all this means for you is that I don’t have to leave you eventually, risking being caught even in the dead of night, and you get to enjoy my curves, and my bulk, and my insatiable lust for more and more.”

More green flames; there was ‘Roseluck’ again. “So how ’bout it? Sound good, sweetie?”

I blinked. “Uh. . . .” Even after hearing all that, I still couldn’t quite register it. Surely there’s a downside to taking this deal; surely there’s some hidden cost to dealing with what Equestria considers to be the enemy. Even so, her vivid descriptions of expanding to ever-larger sizes did make my pants feel perhaps a bit tighter than they ought. I just hope she didn’t notice that last bit. “Is it really that simple?”

“Yup. Simple as you like! Nothing for you to worry about.” She gathered up the dishes. “Tell you what: I’ll go wash these off,” she told me, “while you wash yourself off in the bath. Meet you in your bedroom?” She winked.

I nodded, getting up. Now that she mentioned it, I could use a shower. Still, I had some measure of anxiety at the prospect of having to satisfy an entire hive of changelings, especially one as starving as she said it was. Just how efficient were they?

“Oh, before I forget – ” A sharp pain radiated from my butt as ‘Roseluck’ smacked me. I turned around, only to be met with an expression of equal parts satisfaction and smugness. “That’s for swatting me on your way to the Spa.”

⁂

Tonight was just full of surprises, wasn’t it?

As soon as I stepped into the bathroom, right away I could see the light was on, and I was not the first pony to be in here. The real surprise was that Lyra Heartstrings was also in my home. She was just an acquaintance, somepony I did want to get to know better, but to have her in my bath – ah. Right. I had met two changelings in the Spa, so this one must be Queen Chrysalis incognito.

Eh, whatever, she’ll most likely want me to play along. “Uh. . . hi?” I tried acting natural, but as one can tell, I’m not a very good actor. “I was about to have a shower, but if you wanna – ”

“Well sure, you could wash off alone, or. . . .” Without getting up from the stool she was seated upon, she dipped her hand into the tub, which I seldom ever use, and I could see water splashing onto her shorts and tank top. “You could get somepony else to wash you?” She batted her eyes at me, her golden irises seeming to shine in the room light.

Even if this was Chrysalis, I was starting to get cold hooves on the matter. Already she’s probed and gotten into the most secretive depths of my mind; what more does she want from me? Does she take pleasure in shaming her potential prey? Seeing who can survive this trial? In that case, I’m dead in the water, aren’t I?

“C’mon, take your clothes off,” she reminded me. “You don’t want them to get wet, do you?”

Do you? I sighed, resigning myself to my fate. First I undid my pants, letting them hit the floor, rivets clacking against the linoleum. Them my shirt was next – anypony could tell I was not what one might call the ideal male form, nowhere close to ‘peak performance,’ but ‘Lyra’ didn’t seem to mind it all that much. In fact, she gave me a far more lecherous look than I would have deserved.

My underpants were last of all. I shut my eyes and I dropped them unceremoniously on the floor. I didn’t move for several seconds – until she broke the silence: “What are you embarrassed about? You look just fine, honey.”

I finally opened my eyes. Her face didn’t show anything remotely approaching disgust, cringe, or even pity. The only thing she did was tap the side of the tub. “C’mon, it’s not getting any warmer. You’ll feel so much better when you’re all clean, I just know it.”

Again I sighed, this time in relief, and climbed into the tub, carefully setting my head down against the opposite end. It had been some time since I treated myself to this luxury, a bath – a shower did just as well, but was faster.

But she had already prepared the tub for me, and it’d be a waste simply to drain it after all of that.

“Relax,” she told me, “you’ll be done before you know it.” After thoroughly soaking my hair in the warm water, she squeezed some shampoo into the palm of her hand, then lathered it up against my head, getting it deep into my scalp.

I closed my eyes and let her work. I had just been to the Spa that day, and already it was like I was back there again. I didn’t have to lift a finger to do anything; she did all the work, she did all the washing and rinsing and so forth.

After a minute of scrubbing with her fingertips, she slowly and gently rinsed my hair out. I didn’t dare open my eyes, since I didn’t want to get shampoo in there – but I really wanted to, just to see if she had that green glow in her throat like Vardi as ‘Roseluck.’ Finally she stopped rinsing it out, even flipping part of my hair out of my eyes, so I could get a look.

Then I felt a soapy washcloth on my face, forcing my eyes back shut. I did remember Lyra had green fur – so if ‘Lyra’ was wearing an amulet, I couldn’t easily tell. Of course. Stupid!

“Your arm, please?”

I lifted my left, since that one was closer to her. Washcloth in hand, she started scrubbing it down. Even with my previous finding, I decided to try it anyway. I briefly relaxed, losing a bit of myself to the sensation of somepony else washing me, tending to me – aha! She had one too. The glimmer was faint, certainly, but I could see one all the same, no trick of the light.

She looked down and saw where my eyes were focused. She must’ve decided I was staring at her chest, because then she thrust it forward. But when I didn’t react, she held her hand up to her throat, and put two and two together. “Yeah, I’ve got one too,” she told me. “What, did you think my Queen would settle for just one prototype?”

“‘Your Queen?’” I echoed. “So you’re not – ?”

“Wait, you thought I was my Queen? That she would get involved again, after that close call?” She giggled. “Oh, you are a silly goose. I can tell I’m going to like you. – Other arm?”

I set it back in the water and gave her my other arm. So, she’s another worker changeling, just like Vardi. I wonder if she plays the same role as her. I blinked with an epiphany. She must do that – not every changeling has the equipment, the patience, or the skills to survive outside the hive. “So I know you’re not actually Lyra,” I told her. “The real Lyra would never enter my home, much less wash me in my bath. So who are you?” I glanced back at the door. “Last I checked, Vardi was in the kitchen, doing the dishes.”

A flash of green flames, and there sat another changeling, one I hadn’t seen before. “Call me Knari.” She set my arm down, the grabbed my left leg to wash that next. “I’m guessing my broodsister Vardi gave you the lowdown, didn’t she?”

“She did,” I answered, “not to mention cook my dinner.” I tipped my head back. “I will say, it’s one of the best I’ve ever had.”

“Not surprised; cooking’s what you might call her ‘special talent.’” She dug the washcloth into the inside of my hoof, making sure the frog was squeaky-clean. “Usually she likes to infiltrate kitchens and assume the role of a line cook. That’s how we got inside knowledge of the Supernal Sisters’ diets.”

So at any point in time, they could have tried to poison them. . . and they didn’t. I guess Princess Cadance was a much juicier target if love was their aim. Or perhaps they had, but the effects were much more subtle. . . .

“I was at the Grand Galloping Gala last year, you know.” One flash of green flames later, Knari was ‘Lyra’ again. “I, well. . . let’s just say their harpsichordist wasn’t feeling well that morning.”

I raised my head back up. “And yet you weren’t spotted.”

“Nope!” She set my leg back in the water, them grabbed the other. “To be fair, I couldn’t believe it either. Every other changeling got purged from Canterlot Castle staff one by one. The situation was considered hopeless.” She focused the washcloth inside the hoof again, but started to furrow her brow at something. “Vardi said you got an ungulicure at the Spa. Did they miss this spot?”

“Hm?” I looked at what she was talking about. Sure enough, I could feel her trace a lump of keratin with her finger. “Now that you mention it, I hadn’t had them trimmed in a while, so there was a lot that came off. Did Vardi mention that at least?”

She recoiled in surprise – then looked down at me. “C’mon now, you gotta take better care of yourself. Even a machine needs to be greased.” Now where have I heard that one before? She finished scrubbing out my hoof, then set it back in the water. Next she started scrubbing away at my torso: starting from the neck, traveling down to my chest – to which she paid particular attention, much to my shame – then to my abdomen, lastly stopping at my nethers.

As she started washing me, she ran her hand up and down the shaft. I realized she might need to be thorough, but this seemed rather excessive. I looked up to her, eyebrow raised.

She just smiled, seemingly innocently. “I just want to get you everywhere I can,” she answered my unspoken question. “I’m not making you uncomfortable, am I?”

“. . . somewhat, yeah.” It was never a particular point of pride for me, especially in front of somepony else. I shut my eyes and looked away from her.

“Hey now.” She stopped washing me for the moment, setting the washcloth aside. “You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about. I just want to bathe you; is that so much to ask for?” She traced my jaw with her finger. “I just know it’d make you feel so much better.”

“I just feel guilty about letting you do this,” I admitted. “Especially when you get to a few places I have trouble reaching.”

“You just let me worry about that, okay?” After a moment, I nodded. “I’ll be done soon.” ‘Soon’ seemed to be another moment, as she also washed out the rest of my, ahem, equipment. “Alright big boy, pick yourself up – gotta do your back now.”

I grabbed the rims of the tub and hoisted myself off of my back, until I was more-or-less upright. With that, ‘Lyra’ thoroughly scrubbed my back, starting from the base of my neck and again working her way down. I could swear she muttered “Such strong muscles” under her breath as she washed me. Next she urged me to stand up.

The less said about the last part of the process, the better.

But with that, I was finally done. I was finally done. I started climbing out, the water channeling down my skin in small rivulets. ‘Lyra’ grabbed the chain connected to the drain plug, and yanked it, putting some of Equestria back where it belonged. I set hoof on the bathmat, and she grabbed a towel for me. I reached out to grab it, but she quickly dried me off for me. “Thank you,” I told her, “but I think I can manage that myself.”

“Nope!” She stuck her tongue out at me. “I’m gonna do it for you!” She firmly grasped it and ran it through my hair, down my head, around my torso, then along each of my arms and legs. “There you go – all done, mister!”

Chapter 2 - Communion

communion | kʰəˈmjuː.njən | noun
An act of sharing, especially intimate.

As I left the bathroom, I could hear her hang the towel back on the rack. Normally after this point, I’d head straight to my bedroom, grab whatever sleepwear was still in my closet, and just head straight to bed, soon to fall asleep dreaming fantasies of overgrown mares surrounding me. . . .

I wondered if Princess Luna really can peek inside my dreams. Immediately I wished I hadn’t thought of that; while it stood to reason that she could do the same with everypony, the thought of her seeing what went on in my head filled me with dread. I paused, and sighed – realistically, I couldn’t do anything about that.

But in any case, this wouldn’t pan out. First off, I hadn’t had to do several of my usual evening tasks that night; between Vardi and – what was her name again? – Knari, I had gotten a good chunk of my evening out of the way, and I was that less tired for it. Second, and more obviously, was what I saw when I entered my bedroom.

Leaning up against my closet door was Octavia Melody. She turned her head and saw me standing naked in the doorway. I reflexively darted my hands to cover my unmentionables, but I’m sure she peeked down there anyway. “Well hello, handsome,” she greeted me, her voice purring melodically, almost hypnotically. “I was wondering when you’d join us.”

I blinked. There’s more?

Immediately I turned my head and scanned the room. Past Octavia, against the far wall, was ‘Roseluck’ – no doubt Vardi under the veneer, waiting for me. To my right, upon my bed, was Vinyl Scratch, reclining on her stomach facing me. But I thought you two were an item! I wanted to conclude, but the thought never escaped from my mouth. So far I’ve met two different changelings in my home – who’s to say these two weren’t as well? Better go with that assumption.

“’Sup?” Vinyl arched her back up, seemingly showing off her rear – one considerably plumper than when I last saw her that afternoon, albeit clad in a pair of very skimpy blue shorts.

I darted my eyes away, but it wasn’t quick enough.

“Ah-ah-ah! I saw where your eyes went, dude!” She pointed at me. “Can’t say I blame you, though – it is pretty impressive, after all.” She reached backward, smacking it. “Crowd can’t get enough of this big, bouncing badonkadonk. Should’ve seen how wild they went when I split my shorts one night – heh!”

“A good number of her nightclub regulars attend just to see her dance,” Octavia added. “Her skimpy outfits lend well to the sight and sound of her – what was that phrase you use?”

“‘Throwing it back’?” Vinyl snorted, before turning back to me. “Yeah, and you should see her struggle to lift that cello with those funbags of hers.” Now that she mentioned it. . . yeah. Octavia did have a larger chest than I remembered. How she found a bra that fit was beyond me.

Which reminded me – I was still standing naked in the doorway at this point. I was just going to put on some underwear and head to bed, but it looks like that plan went out the window.

“Still stonewalling us?” Octavia had approached me and was now running her finger down my jawline – before descending down my chest. “No, no, that simply won’t do at all.” She pointed back with her thumb. “That’s her job.”

‘Her’? “‘Her’?” Just how many changelings did Chrysalis send me!? My second question went unasked, as my first was answered. My closet door, which Octavia had apparently been holding shut, opened up to reveal. . . a mare I hadn’t ever seen before.

Even in the dim lighting, I could tell she was gray all over – fur, mane, tail, the works. Then I spotted an amethyst-colored iris peek out from behind her mane, the one splotch of color to her otherwise-uniform monotony.

“This is Marble Pie,” ‘Roseluck’ introduced. “Pinkie’s much-shier twin sister. She doesn’t get out too much, both because she’s too shy and meek around other ponies and because her parents and other sisters need her on the family rock farm. Isn’t that right, Marble dear?”

“Mmm-hm!” She nodded, fully stepping into the room. Compared to Octavia and Vinyl, her build was much more modest – that was, until I saw her muscles: packed hard and tight against her frame, they looked like she could break a solid stone wall with a single well-placed punch. I figured Marble would have been jacked, given that she worked on a rock farm with her sisters and parents – or so ‘Roseluck’ said – but to this degree?

My thoughts were interrupted by somepony walking up behind me. Even without turning around, I knew it had to be ‘Lyra,’ coming back from the bathroom, so I stepped just past the doorway to let her in. What I didn’t expect was for her to hit her head on the top of the doorway. Had she. . . grown? Even without feeding off of me?

“About time you showed up!” ‘Roseluck’ told ‘Lyra.’ “So now that we five are all here – Etaoin, my darling, why don’t you have your pick of the litter?”

“You five?” I asked. “Or who else isn’t here yet?”

“Just us five,” she clarified. “My Queen thought it was excessive, allocating this many just for you, and on a hunch at that, but I figured having. . . let’s call it a menu in front of you would help you decide.” She swept her arm across the room, as if making a presentation of it. “Anypony catch your fancy? I know you’re smitten by most of them this afternoon.”

She strode up to ‘Marble,’ running her hand across the latter’s washboard abdomen. “This one was more of a gamble, but she was itching to get out of the Hive and meet you. Still, maybe a big, strong mare who can keep you safe while you sleep?” Marble flexed a bicep for me. “I bet you just want to run your hands all over this work of art. Or just watch her at work – lifting heavier and heavier loads, her sweat running down the grooves in her bulk, her muscles bulging bigger and bigger until you’re begging her to be carried to bed.”

Which transitioned nicely to my bed. “Or maybe lots of cushion for the pushin’? In many cultures, a big, fat booty is said to bear many strong young.” It didn’t help that ‘Vinyl’ wiggled it back and forth, trying to entice me further. “Pair that with some wide hips and thick thighs, and you’ve got yourself a recipe for a good night of passionate foalmaking. . . and they’ll only get bigger the more you breed her. Wider, thicker, plumper. . . .”

Nor did it help when ‘Octavia’ pulled me in for a very tight hug, her well-endowed chest pressing well into mine. “And all those young are going to get so hungry,” she half-whispered. “So a stallion would look for large, milky breasts like mine, only swelling up larger and larger with every foal you pump inside. And when all that’s said and done. . . why not help yourself to the fruits of your labor? Surely I wouldn’t let you go hungry either, hmm?” She ran a hand down the side of my head.

“I know what you’re thinking,” ‘Lyra’ interrupted. “‘How’s the weather up there?’” As I pulled my face from Octavia’s cleavage, she bent over at the waist to come face-to-face with me. “But I think you want me to stoop down to your level, hmm? Maybe boss me around? Tell big ol’ me what to do?” Now that she was down on both knees, we were the same height. “Or maybe you want me to pick you up, holding you in my arms as I stand up, and up, and up. . . get so big that I could let you ride around in my cleavage – ” she grabbed her breasts, squishing them into each other – “or somewhere else more intimate. . . .”

“Or maybe you’ve always had a thing for me?” ‘Roseluck’ suggested. “What is it? My mane and tail red as my namesake? My eyes green like the spring morning? The musicality of my voice? Whatever it is, if you’ve got your heart set on me – ” she put her hands on my shoulders, staring deeply into my eyes – “then I’m all yours, tonight and every night.” Then she took a step back. “No pressure. We’ve got all night, after all.”

Internally, I was conflicted. On one hand, I could feel my cheeks flushing red – being found out like this was embarrassing for me. Bad enough that it was in my home, but what if word got out? My reputation would be ruined! But on the other. . . a moment like this was exactly what I had been dreaming about since my adolescence. Five different mares, four of them huge in their own ways – busty! Voluptuous! Towering! Robust! – and with Roseluck at the center of it all, darling, dearest, ductile.

“Let me guess: you want to save me for last, don’t you?” she suggested. “A most delectable dessert to this five-course meal.”

Admittedly, that much was true. I admired Roseluck from afar, but I never thought of ravaging her as if she were some – ! Still, I should save her for last – it was tempting to take her first, but if her story of a dying hive was true, then I had better feed the others as well.

Eeny, meeny, miny. . . . I placed my hands on Octavia’s arm. “If I may?” But as I took my hands away from my nethers, my penis swung stiffly upward, striking her in the thigh.

“By all means,” she purred. “Do tell, though – what exactly made you choose me first?”

And that’s when I clammed up. The answer was obvious, to me if not to her, and yet it refused to escape my mouth. “I th-think we both know,” I eventually mustered.

“Come now now, use your words.” She grabbed my chin and tilted my head downward, down to her bosom. “You were doing so well, too.”

“Well, ah, I. . . it was. . . y’know. . . .”

“Oh, was it these?” Vinyl leaped up and grabbed Octavia’s breasts, giving them a firm shake right in my face. “Her boobies? Her massive fucking titties? Her super-stuffed-up milkies? Her honker-donker doinky-boinkies? Her fucking fabric-streching, wind-flapping, gravity-welling sex mounds?” She brought them in closer to me. “You mean you wanna get real up-close to these super-duper ultra-hyper motherfucking baby feeders?”

“Y-yes, those!” I eventually stammered out. Here comes that familiar burning sensation on my face. . . .

“Oh, my!” Octavia feigned surprise at my remark. “‘Yes, those’ what?” After I pulled my head out from her cleavage, she started leading me towards my bed. “What about me do you like?”

“Um. . . these?” I started to reach for her chest.

She pushed me away before I could actually touch them, pushing me right onto the mattress. Then she grabbed them herself, squeezing them tight, but otherwise keeping them out of my reach. “Ah-ah-ah. Tell me, with your words. Say it. Say you like my big boobs.”

I shut my eyes tightly. “I-I like your big. . . b-boobs.” Skies above, it sounded so vulgar. Why did this have to be so shameful?

“Oh?” She took her hands off, but bent over towards me, letting them hang downward freely. “And what, pray tell, do you want to do with my big boobs? Would you like to suck on them like a little foal until all the milk comes out? Would you like to be nestled between them, feel how soft they are from every angle, listen to my heartbeat as I cradle you?”

“Wait, I’ve got an idea,” Roseluck interrupted. “Ever fucked a pair of tits bigger than your own head?”

Oh, Vardi. “I mean. . . .”

“My my, Roseluck, that sounds like a splendid idea.” She turned back to me. “Would you like that? Would you like to stick your cock between my big, soft, jiggly boobs and ride them to an orgasm?”

Well, when am I getting another chance like this? I nodded. “Y-yeah, I’d like to do that. P-please.”

“Then they are all yours, good sir.” She lifted her still-somehow-bra-covered tits over my pe – er, cock and, rather unceremoniously, plopped them down right into my lap. Then she started lifting them up and bringing them back down, over and over.

In an instant, I lost himself in ecstasy. Just feeling her plush flesh against my swollen, aching member, with her sweat trickling down her cavernous cleavage to lubricate them, awoke something within me. At last, my base urges took the reigns, and I unconsciously started thrusting my hips into her breasts.

And as I did, I could feel something else – her breasts started getting bigger and bigger, softer and softer, heavier and heavier, almost like she was feeding off of my love and lust for her. “Woah. . . .”

She giggled. “Is somepony enjoying himself?” she teased. “You know, my tits are just getting so massive and heavy that I can’t even see your tip anymore. It’s just lost in this big, warm, growing mass of flesh.”

Somehow I liked the sound of that.

“Getting greedy? You want more?” She changed the motion of her tits, now side-to-side instead of up-and-down. “C’mon, keep rutting me, you beast. Show me how much you like my milkers. Make them as big and fat as you like!”

Maybe it was just my inexperience, but I couldn’t resist any longer. My cock stiffened even more at her words, and before I realized was was about to happen, I blew my load, right then and there, between her tits. Just past their looming mass, I could see it come out, in thick white ropes. My hips remain suspended in the air, with the throbbing of my cock being the only sensation in her sweaty and now seed-drenched cleavage.

The feeling, the ‘afterglow,’ if you will, was. . . interesting. I’ve never felt anything like it, even after my more strenuous sessions by myself late at night. Then I realized I had lost my virginity to a changeling – one disguised as somepony I was only acquainted with at best.

I didn’t know what to think of the revelation.

Octavia looked down – and giggled. “Was I really that good?” she asked him.

“Well, uh. . . yeah, sure, let’s go with that.” Better than just straight-up admitting a complete lack of endurance.

“Damn, look at that,” Vinyl mentioned. “You spurted your spunk all over my companion’s breastcrack and you’re still shy? Come now, drop it. There’s no need to keep secrets between us, dude.”

“Erm, still,” I stammered, “I f-feel like we’ve skipped a few steps between meeting and, y’know, getting busy. I, well, I was hoping to get to know each other first.” Perfect excuse. Nailed it.

“What steps? All I see is a stallion who just wants to get his dick wet.” While Octavia got her engorged, erm, funbags off of my lap, presumably to clean off the mess, Vinyl seemingly took her place. “We’ve established that you like yourself some big fat mommy milkers, but what about this thing back here?” She shook her rear, then brought it down on my legs. “Oops! Couldn’t find enough room on the bed for all of this big bubble booty.”

Normally I would be tired after just the one time, but for whatever reason – a fear for disappointing them? Or some untapped well of lust? – I found the vim in me to get back up. As did my cock, for that matter.

“I knew you couldn’t resist,” she teased. “These big, wobbling cheeks are just so soft, like Octy’s boobies. You’d have to wonder how I even managed to get in here without busting up the doorframe.” She scooted over onto my lap, tantalizing me with the sheer weight and heft of her rear end. “You want this, big boy? You want this fat, juicy ass all to yourself? Come and take it.”

I started to get up, hard as it was with all that weight pressing down upon my legs. I noticed she was still wearing shorts – which, to be fair, was hard to tell under all that bulk. “Aren’t you going to – ”

“Nope!” She winked at me, sticking her tongue out. “You want this ass so badly, you gotta take it all by yourself. Go on. Pull my booty shorts off.” She smacked them with both hands. “I know you wanna.”

I yanked my legs out from under her. Then, I grabbed the hem of her shorts and tried tugging it down, as hard as I can.

They didn’t budge.

Vinyl just chuckled. “Ass so fat you can’t get them shorts off,” she remarked. “But don’t give up. Really put some muscle into it. Rip ’em off if you gotta. Just do it already!”

Rip them off, got it. This time, instead of tugging down, I tried to pull them apart – but no matter which way I stretched or peeled it, it just wouldn’t tear. I knew denim was strong stuff, but this was ridiculous. “What gives?”

“Sounds like quitter talk to me.” She shrugged. “I’m sure there is a way to bust Lefty and Righty out of there.”

Wait. . . ‘bust?’ That’s it! I thought. If I can’t pull them off, I suppose I’d have to get them off the fun way. So instead of trying to rip them off, I left them in place and simply planted my face and chest atop her rear, wrapping my arms around it as far as they could reach – which wasn’t all the way around.

As I sank into her softness, my ears could make out some odd creaking. My hands could feel it too – her rump was expanding, growing, filling out whatever little space remained in her shorts. It was working!

And she could feel it too. “Ooh, good thinking, dude. With enough love and lust, I bet I could outgrow anything. . . .”

All the better for me! When one hand slipped out from one hip, I simply gripped onto just one oversized cheek, digging my arm into her burgeoning crack, which was now peeking out from the hem of her shorts. Soon enough, I started noticing a tear down one of the seams, growing wide and wider as more and more of Vinyl’s booty was revealed to me.

Then it finally gave. Each cheek, white and impossibly compressed, flooded out onto my mattress; the force shoved me back onto the bed.

“There you go!” Vinyl said. “Now that it’s out, whaddaya wanna do with it? Spank it ’til it turns all red? Stick your dick between the cheeks and let it do its thing? Push your way between them and stick it into one of my holes?” She tilted forward, sticking her booty high in the air. “Or something else? Whatever you’re thinking of, I’ve done it plenty of times before. I’m a real kinky bitch.”

Something about that last one just sounded right to me. After spreading her cheeks apart, I lined up my cock with her slit – and slowly yet surely eased it in.

This elicited a muted yelp and squealing from Vinyl. “Yes! Yes! Right there, that’s the perfect size!” And her tunnel was a perfect fit for me – perfectly squeezing me from all sides, with the right amount of wetness to help me along. I thrust myself forward and back, with the same vigor as with Octavia, back and forth, back and forth – and then she spoke up again: “Want it bigger?”

I paused. “Sorry?”

“You heard me, you doofus. Wanna fuck an even bigger booty?” She shook it from side to side, trying to entice me. “Big enough swallow you up, maybe? Just say the word.”

That was something I wanted to try, have wanted to try for a long time. In my fantasies, I often saw myself getting swallowed up inside ever-larger chests and rears, all with the constant chanting of the mantra “bigger, bigger, bigger,” as I couldn’t get enough. And here was Vinyl, offering up the opportunity to me on a silver platter.

And who was I to deny such pleasures?

The trouble was, it’s easy to fantasize about these things, but much harder to do them in the real world. “S-sure?” I stammered out. Same old Etaoin, can’t get his words out right, just like with the Wondertype. . . .

“That didn’t sound so sure,” Vinyl teased. “You really wanna mean it, mister? Tell me to grow. Make these big bootycheeks get even bigger.” She thrust back into me, making them vibrate. “Just say ‘grow,’ and I’ll grow. It’s as easy as that.”

I shut my eyes. “G. . . g. . . .” Why am I having so much trouble saying this one word!? “G-grow,” I eventually spat out.

And just like that, her rear just grew. Not by much, but it was still noticeable. “Only that much? C’mon dude, I know you want more than that,” she purred. “Get greedy. Demand more from me.”

It was settled. “Grow,” I ordered, more confidently than before. She had awakened something in me, something I usually kept sealed away.

With that, her rear became engorged in even more size and mass, shoving me further back. “That’s more like it,” she encouraged.

I picked myself back up and tried to stick my cock back where it came from, spreading her open just like before – and now I knew how exactly it felt to be swallowed up to my waist in soft, jiggly flesh. I thrust forward. “There we go!” she called out. “That’s the good stuff!”

“Bigger!” I demanded. “Bigger!” And each time I shouted that, her booty swelled and swelled, bigger and bigger, on and on and on, and all the while I was pounding her, harder and harder, on and on and on, I hilted inside her and she surged out more, expanding to where I was swallowed up completely inside that valley of cleavage, there was no stopping me anymore, my draconic greed had kicked in, I had to have more of her, more of her, more, more, more –

I felt that familiar stiffening of my cock, and I knew I was about to blow. “Hold on!” She gripped the bedsheets, and I loosed my seed into her depths, pumping spurt after spurt into her slit; all the while her rear never lost its grip on the rest of me. Then I collapsed onto her back, panting and sweating as I rode out that indescribable sensation.

Vinyl looked back. “Oh yeah. Fuck yeah. Great job, dude,” she complemented between breaths. “Haven’t felt that full in fuckin’ years.” She tried to get up, but found herself pinned in place by her now-massive ass. “Uh. . . little help, Tavi? I think I got too thick to move again.”

Again!?

“Very well.” Octavia bent down and grabbed Vinyl’s hands. “Up you go, you big baby.” Slowly Vinyl was dragged off of the bed, planting one hoof, then the other, on the floor. As she walked, I couldn’t help but see just how much her hips swung from side to side, how much each cheek jiggled and quaked with each step. Octavia took the opportunity to smack, then squeeze, the bounty of flesh behind Vinyl. “Mmm, now this is a proper seat – soft and plump, just the way I like it.”

Vinyl scoffed, groping Octavia’s breast. “Says the cow. – So who’s next for you?” she then asked me.

More? Even more? It soon registered that I had three changelings left to satisfy. Or to satisfy me? In any case, it was either Roseluck, Lyra, or Marble. Roseluck, saving the best for last. . . . I flipped a coin in my head. “Lyra,” I eventually decided.

“Yes!” Lyra pumped her fist. “Don’t you worry, master, Lyra’ll take good care of you!”

‘Master’? That’s quite an upgrade.

“Well well, would you look at that,” Vinyl remarked. “The tallest bitch in the room is throwing herself at your hooves, my dude. What’cha gonna do about it?”

For once, I had an idea. It was something I heard during my adolescence, but something I’ve never actually had. Once again, quite impossibly, my cock sprang forward. “This goes into your mouth,” I told her. “Now get to it.”

“Love that assertiveness.” Vinyl snapped her fingers at me. “You heard ’im – get to suckin’.”

And in that moment, Lyra locked her lips around my shaft. The feeling was a lot different from a vagina – that’s not to say it was bad; I was just unprepared for the feeling of her tongue running up and down and all around me. I leaned back, opening my legs further, making more room for her head to bob up and down. For once, I needn’t do anything – just relax and let her do all the work.

Roseluck whistled. “Not bad, girl. Where’d you learn that from?” Lyra tried to answer, but after a second of sputtering Roseluck stopped her. “Ah-ah-ah! Big fillies don’t talk with their mouths full.”

I could swear I saw her roll her eyes. Then Lyra seemed to redouble her efforts: I felt her tongue snake out of her mouth and start fondling my testes, licking them this way and that – I wish I could describe the feeling, but I fear the exact words escape me. Suffice to say, even ‘heavenly’ couldn’t do it justice.

Before I knew it, much sooner than I expected, I was about to let loose again. “Here it comes. . . .”

Lyra took this to mean she should retract her tongue and focus on containing the flood of spunk in her mouth. But as I watched, not only was she taking every bit of it without struggling – she started growing too.

With each thrust, with each spurt, with each measure of my essence I pumped into her, she spurted larger. Not just her breasts, or her butt, or her stomach, or her legs, or any single other part – she was growing every which way, turning into a giantess, bursting out of her clothes piece by piece, shreds of cloth littering the floor. As if she wasn’t tall enough for me! Eventually she grew to be as tall as the room was long, and her legs buckled to give herself more room.

“C’mon!” Vinyl cheered. “Make her huge!”

Believe me, nopony wanted that more than me. Still I continued to climax, still she continued to swallow, still the room continued to be filled with more and more green bulk. Even Marble had a hard time trying to push back against her assertive growth.

Just when I thought her knees would reach my bed, I finally ran out of stamina – and with that, she finally stopped growing. Enormous lips let my shaft go, and her head, now the size of all of me, tilted up. “That was great, Master. Thank you so much.” She moved in and planted a kiss that covered my entire chest.

“Wait a second,” Roseluck interrupted. “Open wide.” After looking inside, she nodded. “You swallowed every drop. Good girl!”

My eyes drifted over to Marble, but this time I was well and truly spent. I could give no more, not for a good long while at least. I even let out a yawn. “Think it’s. . . time we all went to sleep?” I asked. “I’m getting awfully knackered.”

“Yeah, you did feed three out of five of us,” ‘Roseluck’ commented. “I’d be tuckered out too; you did a great job tonight. C’mon, let’s all snuggle up.”

The bed was out of the question – not least because it was never meant for more than one. Instead, Lyra shifted her knees to make more room within herself – although in the process, I heard a hard thump on the far wall. “Oopsie! Sorry, Master – feels like my tushie’s getting too big for the room.” Not surprising, considering her hips were almost as wide as the room was tall.

Meanwhile, Octavia and Vinyl were nestling up around Lyra’s stomach, with the latter’s head in the former’s cleavage, positioned so their largest parts were facing into her – almost like a nest of flesh. Roseluck climbed down between them. “Here we go!” she told me. “Nice and warm and safe for you.”

I turned to Marble. “Not joining us?”

She shook her head. “I’ll keep watch,” she quietly answered, crossing her muscle-bound arms. “You just go to sleep.” Not sure why she would want to keep an eye out – this is a safer part of an already-safe town. But if it made her feel better. . . .

I shrugged, then went to join Roseluck, climbing over Octavia’s still-swollen breast and sort of letting myself drop into place. Conveniently, they were positioned in such a way that my upper half fit perfectly between Octavia’s and Lyra’s cleavages, with everything below my waist snug between Vinyl’s cheeks.

“Hold on.” Roseluck squeezed in between me and Vinyl. “Gotta leave a little wiggle room for me, silly,” she said, punctuating with a wiggle of her rump against my crotch. I felt movement from Lyra, and realized she pulled us all into an enormous hug. “Wake us up if you need anything, okay?”

I chuckled – then reached out and held her closely to myself, with my hands caressing her bare chest and stomach. I felt the softness of both her fur and the breasts, the gentle heat eminating from her, and if I focused a bit, her faint heartbeat as well. As I ran my hands over her, gently, almost absentmindedly, I could feel that same softness start to become amplified, as she started swelling out of my overall grip on her –

Wait. . . swelling? Oh, not you too Vardi!

But indeed she was; she had somehow tapped into a latent reservoir of love, namely my years-long crush on Roseluck, and in return was essentially giving me even more of her. By now she must have noticed my shock, because she briefly paused her expansion. “I knew I had you pegged for a hugger,” she murmured. “I could tell by the spare pillows in your bed. You want somepony to cuddle – here you go: all the Roseluck you can handle.”

And I? Well, I wasn’t about to refuse this, was I?

She didn’t say anything more, instead letting the growth of her body do the talking. Rather than focus on just the one part of herself, she went with a more balanced build: large breasts that I can cup perfectly in my hand; a plush rear where I could comfortably nestle my length (which was somehow swelling back up for the I-lost-counth time today); and everywhere else gained a notable layer of padding, making her an all-around perfect pillow for me to snuggle.

Like a teddy bear, only much larger than me and able to talk back.

Although her breasts fit perfectly in my hands, they were much more at home resting on her soft belly. Eventually she took notice: “Is somepony enjoying my chubby tummy?” she asked.

“Mmm. . . .” I nodded, my nose running through her hair. Vardi was right: I was a hugger. As much as I liked to be smothered under a massive mare, I also liked being able to protect the ones I love most – and yes, that meant chiefly Roseluck. It made sense, then to make her ideal for hugging – pillow-soft and pillow-shaped. Snuggled up in my arms just like this, while surrounded by other mares who had also caught my eye? A perfect evening, no question about it. Big spoon or little spoon? Middle spoon was the way to go.

I wished I could spend every night like this.

Once I was finally comfortable and and very much ready for rest, I murmured a “Good night, girls.”

I got a quiet chorus of “Nigh-nigh” from Lyra, “Good night, my dear” from Octavia, a muffled “G’night, dude” from Vinyl – and finally, a kiss on my hand from Roseluck. “Sweet dreams, darling,” she whispered. “We love you.”

Content, I closed my eyes. It used to be that a scenario like this could only happen in my head, that it was impossible even for magic to conjure. Yet here I am, surrounded by changelings, adopting the appearances of those I gravitated to most, gradually teasing me out of my shell, getting me to shed my inhibitions, rewarding me for blindly pursuing my wants.

I snuggled deeper into Octavia’s cleavage, letting the gentle thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump of her heartbeat, coupled with Roseluck’s, lull me off at last to sleep.

This is nice.

Chapter 3 - Assimilation

assimilation | əˌsɪ.məˈleɪ̯.ʃn̩ | noun
The act of absorbing a person or people into a community or culture.

“Nrrrgh. . . .”

With a great deal of effort, I cracked open my eyes, but all I could see was darkness. What time is it? I shifted my limbs around, very slightly, very gently, just to wake up the nerves and get a better idea of my surroundings. Was last night just a dream?

Evidently not – I could still feel untold amounts of warm, cushy bulk surrounding me on all sides. I looked down and, in the near-darkness, I could make out Roseluck – still in my arms, but now with a faint, if steady, green glow in front of her throat. They never left me, I realized. Are they now just picking up latent love from me? Or is it that I have some special touch? Either way, it explains why they haven’t outgrown the house – which is good news for me. Would be embarrassing. And expensive.

I started to lift my head up, but my vision was still blocked by an enormous amount of gray boobflesh. By this time, Roseluck had also woken up, flipping herself around to face me, her engorged stomach now pressed up hard against mine. “Good morning, sleepyhead!” she greeted, before kissing me square on the lips. “Mwah! Sleep well last night? Hm?”

I blinked. “Honestly,” I answered, “I’m not sure. It all went by in. . . what felt like about two minutes. I don’t know how. . . .”

“Oh my, silly, you must’ve been really tuckered out!” She wrapped her arms around me. “Can’t blame you, after what we did last night.” She looked down and finally saw the glow. “Wow. We’ve put these things through a lot of work.”

Right. Dying hive. Need to gather love. Apparently I have a lot of it? “How much did you get from me?”

She shrugged. “I’d have to find out back at the Hive. Not like I can see the larders from here.” She looked up, a cross look starting to creep upon her face. Then she slapped Vinyl’s rump. “Rise and shine, girls! Big guy’s finally awake!”

I could hear a muffled “Fine, fine” from deep within Octavia’s chest, and finally a massive weight being lifted off of me. Right away, I could see that the morning sunlight was streaming through the windows. Or, rather, just the one window – Lyra’s sheer size was blocking the other.

No way this was early morning. “What time is it?” I had to ask.

“Oh, just past ten in the morning,” Lyra reckoned. “Why?”

Ten!? But I usually got up at four! That meant I was already late for work – I had to get up, I had to get ready, I had to rush down to the print shop, Lorem, Minion, Foolscap, they were all depending on me to –

But Roseluck pushed me back against Lyra. “I see the panic in your eyes,” she told me. “You’re not going anywhere, mister. You’re going to take the day off, and you’re going to spend it with us.”

“But – the dictionary – the others – !” I was sputtering, almost frothing at the mouth.

But she silenced me with just a finger on my mouth. “Nope. You’re still not completely over your fatigue.” She got back up. “It’s good to sleep in sometimes. Everypony needs their rest.”

“Even so – ” I stretched myself out, listening to the click-click-click of my neck and back – “it’s not like I have much time to do that these days. Surely you’ve heard about Princess Twilight Sparkle’s commission. We’ve got less than a month left, and we’re only halfway done with the bloody thing.”

But before I could complain further, I heard and felt a growl from my stomach.

“I heard that,” she teased. “You stay here and play with the girls – I’ll go get you something to eat.”

⁂

Pancakes. Stacked as tall as my hand, drenched with maple syrup, topped with butter, decorated with fresh fruit and whipped cream. Oatmeal, piping hot, sweetened with honey, off to the side of the tray Roseluck brought in for me.

They didn’t even let me get up from the bed.

“C’mon, I’m bound to make a mess in this room,” I complained. “And who do you think would be cleaning that up, yeah?”

“Uh, duh?” Lyra piped up. “We will! We can be, like, live-in maids if you want, Master!”

“Maids, cooks, gardeners, bodyguards, you name it,” Vinyl added. “Just as long as the love keeps coming in, we’ll be whoëver and whatever you want from us, dude.”

“And besides,” I added, “where did you get some of this stuff? I don’t even keep syrup in my cabinet – never had a need for it.” Although if this keeps recurring. . . .

“We have our ways,” Roseluck answered, “don’t you worry your pretty little head.”

It didn’t really satisfy me, but I kept eating. I suppose that’s as good an answer as I can tease out of her. Besides, I was much too hungry to think about such things. Another bit of pancake and strawberry went into my mouth – something about the way Vardi cooked this simply made it divine. Clearly cooking was her special talent; I had to ask her for her secret at some point, especially since she wouldn’t be sticking around forever.

I felt my throat become parched – and that’s when I noticed she didn’t bring in a glass. “Uh, did you forget something?” I asked her.

“Not at all – I had a better idea.” Roseluck winked. “Octavia?”

Octavia sat down on the bed right next to me. I could hear the springs of the mattress whine and complain under her weight, more than half of which was concentrated in her – oh. I see where she’s going with this. “Go ahead, have as much as you like.” She hefted one boob up to me – something that took a lot of strength – and I could see a white creamy substance trickle from her swollen nipple. “I have way too much of it as it is.”

I blinked – and shrugged. I’ve already done way worse things with them at this point. I leaned forward and put my lips around her nipple, then sucked on it very slightly, as little as I could, just to see how much she had built up.

Quite a lot, it seemed – that slight tug was still enough to flood my entire mouth with her milk. Had I not closed my throat quickly enough, I likely would have drowned. But the taste – sweet, creamy, with a suggestion of vanilla – was heavenly for me. I couldn’t get enough – with a newfound greed, I started gulping down mouthful after mouthful, eliciting quick squeaks and whelps from Octavia, my other breakfast all but forgotten.

To rehash the metaphor, I was in love.

But all too soon, Roseluck pulled her breast away from me. “Now now,” she chastised, “you can’t just fill your tummy up with her milk. You’re a big colt now; you need more than just milk.” She tapped the half-eaten bowl of oatmeal. “Finish your breakfast, then you can have some more, okay sweetie?”

“Alright, alright, I get it.” I grabbed the spoon and continued as before, but now I found myself missing her milk. Each time I closed my lips around the spoon, I pictured myself closing them around her nipple instead. Being breastfed during a meal was not something I had ever heard of or even imagined, but now I could definitely see the appeal.

“There you go,” Octavia purred. “You’re almost finished eating, by the way – and you know what’s for dessert, don’t you?”

The rest of the pancakes disappeared into my stomach in about a minute. Wordlessly, Marble took the tray off my lap and out of the room – leaving me free to lie back and let Octavia’s breast smother me. I took her nipple in my mouth again, and sucked just as gently as before. She exploded in my mouth, the creamy sweetness dancing upon my tongue and swirling down into my belly – washing down the rest of my meal, a perfect ending.

After several minutes of drinking, eventually I had to stop. I found it hard to get back up – my stomach was bloated with milk. “Skies above, I’m gonna get so fat from that. . . .”

“With how much work you’re putting in for us?” Vinyl objected. “Fat chance of that!” After a moment, she snorted. “Heh-heh. . . ‘fat’ chance.”

Vardi rolled her eyes. “If we’re done with that,” she said, “why don’t you girls introduce yourselves – ” she strode up to my side, hands on my chest and back, almost like she was leading me further inside – “to the stallion of the house?” She snapped her fingers.

At that signal, ‘Lyra,’ ‘Octavia,’ and ‘Vinyl’ all disappeared in flashes of green, to be replaced by more changelings. I see. . . a proper introduction to the changelings themselves. But I had already met Knari – perhaps it’s for formality’s sake?

The one once under Octavia’s appearance spoke first. “My name is Rdze. So lovely for you to see me as I really am. I take it my milk was the best you’ve ever had?”

“Uh. . . yeah, yeah it was.” Even though I almost took it as fact that she was a changeling, I couldn’t help but still reel from the revelation. Perhaps there was still some lingering shock factor?

She extended her arm. “The really big one here is Knari – ”

“Right. We’ve already met.” I nodded. “Showed herself last night during my bath.”

“She did what?” The one once disguised as Vinyl then turned to Knari – before swatting her up the snout. “Damc’q’ebo!” she berated. “You could have been caught! We could have been compromised!”

Knari shrank back in fear – though not literally; her broad back still threatened to break the window. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“Hey, easy on her!” I pushed her back from Knari. “The bathroom window was covered. There was no way anypony could’ve seen her.”

“Even so, we can’t take any chances here.” She then turned back to me, clearing her throat. “But where are my manners? I’m Balishi. I’m what you might call a ‘Honeypot’ changeling – we store our love wherever we can. Me? Back here.” She took a moment to slap her impossibly-engorged rear end, followed with a shake. “In your case though, I’d settle with being a glorified pillow if you’d like.”

“We may all be broodsisters,” Vardi clarified, “born from the same clutch, but from hatching we are assigned to different castes in the Hive. Balishi, as she said, is a Honeypot, meant to distribute love-nectar from the larders to the rest of the hive.” She laid her hand on Knari’s belly. “Knari and I are Infiltrators. Even there, we are somewhat specialized – I typically work cooking roles, while Knari works musical ones.” She pointed to my side. “Rdze is a Nurse, assigned to raise the younger broods – mainly by converting love into milk for them.”

And quite well at that!

“As you might tell, she and Balishi work together quite often.” Vardi then looked behind me, just as I heard hoofsteps coming into the room. Oh right, ‘Marble’ – what caste is she? She cleared her throat.

‘Marble’ sighed, and dropped her disguise last of all. The changeling standing in her stead was black like her broodsisters, but her build was still a dense wall of muscle like her disguise.

“This is K’edeli,” Vardi introduced for her. “Savor her sight and appearance – for you may never again. K’edeli is a Queensguard, normally assigned to protecting our Queen’s chamber; they are not meant to be seen outside the Hive at all.”

“My broodsister Vardi really had our Queen’s ear yesterday,” K’edeli continued. “She put together this specific team of changelings to service you, even pulling a few strings to reässign me here.” She paused to flex her bicep – equal parts impressive and imposing. “You may not be my Queen,” she intoned, “but I will still protect you with my life. You can count on that.”

Vardi got me a Queensguard? The most élite of their élite? And Chrysalis signed off on it? She shouldn’t have! “Good to know I have protection,” I commented – then stopped. “Wait. Protection.” Shit! “Don’t tell me – !”

“Relax, dude,” Balishi stopped me. She couldn’t move, obviously since she was pinned under so much weight, but she rested her hand on my knee. “Only our Queen can actually get knocked up. We workers and soldiers are sterile.”

“But if it makes you feel better,” Rdze added, “we can certainly look the part for you.” She winked.

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “That’s a relief. Well – ” I got up, stretching my back again – “if we don’t have any more crises, I suppose it’s time we started the day. What do you have in mind, when work’s out of the question?”

“Funny you should ask.” Green flames flared up around K’edeli, and when they receded, I was shocked to see her replaced by – me!? “One of your coworkers showed up knocking early this morning,” ‘I’ answered in ‘my’ voice. Do I really sound like that? “Didn’t get a name – short, petite mare, thought you’d know her.” Minion? She went out looking for me? But then, I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised. “I put on a show of having caught a cold the day before, and she seemed to buy it. Couldn’t help but taste an air of suspicion around it.”

Yeah, because Minion knows me better than that. Takes a lot for me to stay home from work, especially on a deadline like this. “Did she ask anything technical?” I asked.

“Yeah, she asked where the something-or-other was. I just told her to figure it out, because I can’t think straight when I’m sick.”

“Were you, K’edeli?”

‘I’ chuckled. “Good question.” She then dropped my disguise. “In any case, that problem has been solved. Back to your question?”

I sighed, pondering what I had meant to do. I had a laundry list of items I wanted to get done – one of which was laundry – but I intended to save those for after the printing of the dictionary. But thinking back to what Balishi said. . . . “You might’ve seen how I kinda let the place go for a while,” I told them. “Massive project down at the shop, but I’m sure you know that already. In any case, maybe you’d like to. . . I dunno, stick around and help me out around the house?”

“Can do, dude!” Balishi adopted Vinyl’s voice. “Five housestaff, at your beck and call! We’ll cook, we’ll clean, we’ll keep watch, and maybe if we do good enough you can pull us aside and plunge that – ”

“Perfect,” I cut her off, “that’ll do nicely, thank you very much.” I drew my breath. “Just one problem,” I added. “At your current sizes – ”

“Right. Girls?” Vardi tapped her telephile amulet. “I think we have a delivery to make.”

Without another word, all five amulets lit up brightly, brighter than I had ever seen them shine, so bright I had to shield my eyes. But then I heard the floor creaking to my right – but instead of Knari growing even bigger, she was getting smaller, and the bedroom floor was merely being relieved of so much weight.

For that matter, so were the other four. Rdze’s breasts, once reaching the floor and overflowing with milk, shrank back down to a more reasonable size, the flow slowing to a trickle before disappearing altogether. Balishi’s butt had already receded, from the size of a couch to the size of a large chair, not quite stopping yet. K’edeli’s build also went back down, from a wall to something I could likely find in a gym. Vardi slimmed back down to a more normal figure – not nearly as dramatically as her broodsisters, but no doubt she contributed something to their hive.

At the end of it, at some unseen signal, all five of them redonned their former disguises. Roseluck, Lyra, Octavia, Vinyl, and Marble again stood around me in appropriate daywear: Roseluck was in a tank top with tight-fitting jeans; Lyra a lightweight white T-shirt with Braymuda shorts, a lyre charm hanging off of her neck; Octavia a well-fitted black suit, with a light-blue blouse; Vinyl a belly shirt, thong-like booty shorts, and fishnets along her arms and legs, by far the skimpiest of the lot; and Marble a lilac sundress.

Knari let out a sigh of relief. “Finally!” She stretched herself out to her full height, arms over her head, back arched back, hands brushing against the ceiling. “It was getting really cramped for me in here, Master. But I’m sooo glad I could be of use to you again!” She bent over, planting a kiss on my forehead.

“Right,” interrupted Vardi, “that should do it.” Then she turned back to me. “Why don’t you hop into the shower really quick? We’ll get things cleaned up in here and get started with the rest of the house. You’d be surprised how quickly we can work.”

One by one they filed out of the room, and as they passed I could tell they still retained some exaggeration of their figures – specifically what Vardi knew I liked most: Octavia’s breasts were still showing very prominently through her shirt; Vinyl’s hips bumped both sides of the doorway, forcing her to turn sideways; and Lyra had to stoop over to get out.

Today was going to be an interesting day.

⁂

I shut the bathroom door behind me, and was about to start undressing by reflex when I remembered I was still naked. Heh, that was easy. But I don’t typically lock that door, given that I live alone, so I was surprised to hear it open back up behind me anyway. “Don’t mind me,” Lyra said, “just grabbing your clothes to wash them!” She at least shut the door behind her.

Not taking any more chances, this time I locked it. Out of curiosity, however, I gave myself a once-over before the mirror. There I was: my onyx-gray fur, paired with a black mane, both now matted with sweat from the night before; golden irises surrounded by faint whisps of bloodshot, better from the day before, but still not completely white; and when I stepped back, my cutie mark, a type slug spelling my own name.

With that unspoken question answered, I grabbed a spare towel from a cabinet and left it on the rack, ready for when I stepped out. When I opened the stall and put a hand on the knob, for some reason I looked back at the door – just in time to see a large spider crawl under the doorway.

I was started, too frightened even to scream, wondering how I was going to dispatch a potential threat – then green flames shot up from the spider. I let out a sigh of great relief – it was just K’edeli, in the flesh, not disguised as Marble nor anypony else. But still – “What are you doing here?” I asked her. “This is my alone time!”

“‘Alone time’ is when one is the most vulnerable to danger.” She crossed the room, squeezing behind me and getting into the shower stall. “I won’t let it happen, not on my watch. You will wash with me instead, and I will keep you safe.” She wasn’t shifting to her Marble Pie visage for this either – she must be bad at imitating ponies. But then, I didn’t expect a Queensguard like her to hold a candle to the likes of Vardi or Knari, who were both seasoned Infiltrators.

“Alright, alright.” I threw up my arms. “You win. Let’s just get this over with.” I stepped in after her and closed the door. Turning the knob over to C, I let the water start to splash over me – er, us.

I saw a flash of green reflect around the glass, then a gray hand reach over and turn the knob closer to H. “I think you’ll like it better,” she said in a hushed voice. “Want to start with washing me first?”

I blinked. Wasn’t this supposed to be my shower?

“You heard me.” She smiled, blushing. “I. . . want your hands to touch me everywhere,” she said. Is she really hesitant? Or just in character? “I want them to feel my brea – my boobs, up and down my abdomen, between my legs – everywhere. Get to know my body. It’s all yours.”

That’s gonna be a lot of soap, I thought.

But, seeing as I had the same temptations myself, I did it anyway. Of course I’d start with her back – mostly since it’d be more comfortable with someone as shy as ‘Marble’ – moving my soapy hands across her back, covering the broad expanse as best as I could manage, tracing out each of her broad muscles there. I hesitated, just for a moment, then moved my hands lower to her rear end. No doubt just as strong as the rest of her, but I did notice a good amount of jiggle as I felt her up.

“You. . . like that, don’t you?” she whispered, barely loud enough for me to hear her over the water. “I saw you with Balishi last night. You like how large it is? How wide? How much heft?”

“. . . y-yeah,” I eventually answered. To be sure, it was impressive – I just couldn’t find the words to talk about it further. I knew I had crossed that line, and several more, just the night before, but. . . old habits really do die hard, don’t they?

I needed to reëxamine my priorities.

Then she giggled. “And I thought I was meant to be the shy one,” she said. “Nopony’s going to catch us in here, don’t worry.”

But then I remembered why I was in here to begin with. I grabbed the shampoo off the shelf and, squirting a bit more than I usually use, lathered it up in my hands and ran it through my hair. I was getting it deep in there, massaging my scalp as I scrubbed out whatever it was that had built up over who knows how long.

“Here, let me.” When I handed the shampoo bottle back to her, she squired out more into her hand, then started washing out my tail. “Put your head in the water.”

Turning around, I tipped my head forward, washing the shampoo out of my hair. Meanwhile, she continued lathering my tail, almost focusing on each individual strand of hair. Once that was done, I turned around to rinse out my tail. But as I turned, I was met with her bulk – namely, how much more of her there was than when I turned away. “Have you been growing?” I asked.

“Mmm-hm!” She ran her soapy hands across my chest. “I know you have trouble saying so, but I can still tell.” She leaned down, presumably to wash my legs, but then she whispered into my ear, “You love it when somepony bigger than you keeps you safe.” She flexed the muscles on her arm, but they didn’t relax all the way. “The more you love it, the bigger I get, the safer you feel – ”

“‘Creating a feedback loop,’” I finished for her. “I know. I’m just afraid you might outgrow the shower stall. Tell me, can you keep me safe from all the broken glass? Because at this rate, you just might break it.”

But she just kissed me on the head. “Mwah! That won’t happen.” Then she grabbed the bottle again. “Now it’s your turn. I’ll wash my mane, you wash my tail.”

I shrugged. “Might as well.” I expected her to turn around, but she made no motion to do that. Instead, she gestured to squeeze between her and the glass panel, which I eventually did. Once I was in position, I started running my soaped-up hands through her tail, getting each lock covered in product. But it seemed she wasn’t done flirting with me just yet – she moved her tail aside, and I found myself staring at her rear end. It came up to my chest, stretching almost as wide as my arms could, packed with more muscle than fat – though the heft would suggest otherwise.

“There’ll be time for that, sweetie.” Could she really tell I was staring? Her gently thrusting her butt at me confirmed my suspicions. After handing me the detachable nozzle, which I used to rinse out her tail, she bent down and rinsed the shampoo out of her own hair, treating me to the sight of soapy water running down her sculpted body.

Once I rinsed that off and slipped back to her front, I worked on her lower half, reaching up as far as the bottom swell of her formidable chest. Her bending down made it much easier to wash the rest of her body. As I worked, I felt her muscles, packed hard and tight against herself – I tried pushing against her abs, and found they had absolutely no give. If anything, I felt a strong beat pulsating through them, gentle yet persistent, as if she were still somehow swelling even bigger. But if she were, I thought, she would burst through the shower stall – which would prove messy and costly.

But it was done at last. “My turn now.” Soap in hand, she went and scrubbed the rest of my body. She was quicker, of course – larger hands against a smaller body, after all – and all the while I could feel her powerful strength in even the smallest parts of herself.

But at some point, I realized she had been paying an awful lot of attention to my cock, which, being rubbed through a well-lubricated hole like her hand, had started to harden again. “Uh, Marble? I’m pretty sure it’s clean now.”

“Maybe.” Then she tightened her grip on my shaft. “It’s still pretty hard, though. Wouldn’t you like me to fix that?”

She didn’t say anything else, but she didn’t need to. I thrust my hips forward, savoring the sensation of being jerked off by somepony else. Usually it was something I did myself, so trusting another pony to grip my cock without straining anything took a good measure of trust.

And right now, I trusted her, with all my heart.

The more I thrust, I found, the bigger she grew. At first I didn’t notice, but as time went by I saw her forearm become wider and wider, the cords of her muscles bulging bigger and bigger; my eyes traveled up her arm, and saw the same thing happening to her biceps, her pectorals, her abs, and everywhere else. Once she got big enough, she picked me up and continued stroking me off. There she held me, one hand still rubbing my dick, the other perfectly cupping my butt, keeping me firmly in place against her breast.

I never thought about doing something like this, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t open to the idea.

“You feel that?” she murmured. “Feel how big I’m growing? Feel how strong my arms are, how thick my muscles? You want me to carry you around, just like this – ” she squeezed my bottom – “maybe with another mare to satisfy you?”

“Y-yeah, I d-do.” Her words were hypnotic, and I could barely talk straight.

“I never thought how much I’d like to take love for myself,” she continued. “and grow from it. I know you were too tired last night, so I knew better than to wear you out even more. Besides, you owe me after I covered for you at the door – I’m just cashing it in.”

She leaned right into my face. “Now cum for me. Don’t hold back – I want it all.”

A single word, a simple command, and I promptly obeyed it. My seed hit the glass panel and started sliding down, inch by inch, leaving milky-white streaks as it ran.

Once I was spent, she leaned over and kissed me tenderly. “Good boy.” Then she noticed the mess I made. “Oh dear. Let me clean that for you.”

“Set me down first,” I told her, “I’ll do it.” When she did, I took stock of how much she had grown. When she had first stepped in, she was my height, and not one pica more or less. Now? My head only came up to her six-pack abs. “I’d rather you didn’t bend over and blow out one of the panels with your rear.”

Marble rolled her eyes, but washed off the upper part of the glass, leaving the lower half to me. I looked up, and noticed she had grown so tall her head was just shy of brushing against the ceiling. Good thing we stopped when we did. I wonder just how big Queensguards get. In my head, I pictured K’edeli, a wall of muscle clad in armor, over twice my height, probably taller than my house –

“You look curious,” she spoke up. “Wondering something about me?”

No need to be shy, I reminded myself, we’ve blown way past that line now.“Just how big can Queensguards get?”

She giggled. “As big as we need,” she said simply. “Climb up; I’ll show you.” She lowered her hand, extending the digits toward me. No sooner than I had set hoof on her finger – yes, just one was strong enough to hold me – did she lift me up to her shoulders. My hands set out exploring everywhere they could reach her, sensing her meaty biceps flexing larger and larger, her soft, matronly breasts framed by ever-more-powerful muscle, her shoulders arguably more solid than the ground below.

“Don’t look down,” she taunted. Then she winked, and let me slip off her shoulders, flexing her chest muscles to trap me in her cleavage. She bent down, with her knees instead of her waist, and rinsed herself under the flow of the shower. I couldn’t see it, but I could hear her hand twist the water knob off.

This is going to be my most expensive water bill yet.

Finally, she unflexed her muscles. I dropped back down onto the floor. I took a deep breath – did I mention it was too tight for me to breathe? – and got back onto my hooves. “Well,” I said. “Can’t say I’ve ever had a shower like that before.” I opened the stall door and went to grab the towel; I could feel Marble’s hoofsteps behind me, each thud an earthquake in its own right.

It was a good thing the stall didn’t have a top frame.

While it was still on my mind, I grabbed another towel for her – but she used it to dry me off first. “It’s fine, I can do it myself,” I told her.

“You sure?” she said, moving to my arms. “I know how much you like my hands all over you.”

I sighed, knowing she was right again, and let her do all the work. Again.

⁂

The other changelings had been busy while we were showering.

After K’edeli finished drying me off, I stepped out of the bathroom – still naked – and went to my bedroom. K’edeli, meanwhile, was shrinking herself back down to sort out the bathroom, promising that she would not be far behind me.

One of them (Knari, if I had to guess) had laid my clothes out for me on my freshly-made bed. Laundry must still be going, I thought. I pulled my boxers on – the first time in about half a day that I had actually put something on me – followed by my shirt, tucking it into my pants as I finished dressing.

Just in time to see K’edeli appear in the doorway, back in her ‘Marble’ disguise and sundress, as if nothing had happened.

“Finished in the bathroom?” I asked.

“Mmm-hm!” She nodded.

I stepped out into the hallway, looking to see how they divided up labor. K’edeli stuck by my side, putting a burly arm around my shoulder, and giving me a quick peck on the cheek. I snaked my arm around the small of her back (for a given value of ‘small’), bringing her in closer to me.

We rounded the corner into the living room, where I found Balishi, still disguised as Vinyl, on her hands and knees scrubbing the floor, going over even the finest scuffs and scrubbing them out. She looked up, saw me, winked, then bent even further over, giving me a good view of her engorged rump – even shaking it side to side for me.

“See something you like?” K’edeli whispered in my ear. But before I could answer, she let go of my shoulder and smacked Balishi’s rear as hard as she could. When the latter snapped herself back up with a “Yowza!”, a red hand-shaped mark already welling up on her left cheek, of course K’edeli would blame me for that.

But instead of getting angry at me, Balishi just returned a smug grin. “I like your style, dude,” she said. “Knowing what you like, and showing a mare some appreciation.”

I was going to object, but something told me she wouldn’t listen or care at any rate.

Knari, still as Lyra, was dusting my bookshelves in my library while waiting for the laundry. Those shelves easily held hundreds of books, collected over the years – many of those I had typeset myself; many others I kept around for their exceptional typography (handy for when Minion or I were starved for inspiration); but by and large most of them I had read for the simple joy of reading.

Her height made it perfect to clean off even the uppermost shelves.

As she was working, she was humming a tune to herself, very dynamic, very lively, almost as if it were the very thing driving her to work. I found myself nodding along.

Eventually she turned around and saw me. “Oh! Hiya, Master!” she greeted. “Just wanted to make sure your collection’s squeaky-clean!” She extended her arm to indicate the whole room. “Strange I couldn’t find anything on music.”

“I do have one, actually,” I clarified. I briefly broke away from K’edeli and went over to the standalone shelf mounted on the wall, the one containing every book I’ve put in print myself. Music, music, music, where was it. . . aha!

“Oh. Must’ve forgotten about that shelf. Whoopsie!” She struck a pose as if she had been caught doing something naughty.

I rolled my eyes. “Just don’t forget about the laundry. I believe I heard the machines stop just now.”

She paused. “Skies above, you’re right!” Knari dropped the duster and ran out of the room, squeezing her tall frame past K’edeli’s broad one. Somehow she didn’t knock over anything on her way out.

I looked to K’edeli. “I could use some fresh air,” I told her. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

She nodded. “Mmm-hm! It’s safe outside at the moment.”

As we stepped outside, I saw Vardi, still in her Roseluck disguise, tending to a flowerbed on the side of the house. “There you are!” She looked up to see me, trawl in hand. “This garden’s a real mess; you’ve really let this place go.” I’m ashamed to admit she was right – I had seriously neglected that part of the yard. Normally this is where I’d offer the defense of having a busy schedule, but this time it didn’t seem right.

I sighed. “Sorry.” Pause. “Wait, I thought you were better at cooking.”

“What, can’t a mare have more than one interest?” She giggled. “Why, Etaoin, you wound me!” Not to mention I just ate. Standing up, she cleared her throat. “Still, at least you didn’t tell me I ‘belonged in the kitchen.’”

I felt myself turning red for what seemed like the umpteenth time since I met Vardi. “Bad infiltration?”

“Heh! This isn’t my first trip to Ponyville,” she explained. “Once I took the place of a new cook for Filthy Rich and his wife what’s-her-face.” She groaned. “What a patch of old chitin she was. Once she demanded lemon meringue cake for her daughter’s birthday, then chewed me out because clearly she said ‘red velvet’ and not ‘lemon meringue.’” She scoffed, shaking her head. “Her daughter wasn’t much better, but at least I can tell she wanted to improve herself.”

As she was talking, Octav – no, Rdze made her appearance in the window, wiping down each of the panes, moving evenly from side to side, making sure not to leave any chance for streaking. When she saw us, she smiled with half-lidded eyes, winked, then proceeded to wash the pane.

Using her breasts.

Which may or may not have been leaking milk again.

“Ugh.” Vardi pinched her snout. “Girl’s just making more work for herself,” she said. “I just hope she hasn’t been doing that all over the house.” Then she jolted twice. Huh? “Excuse me a sec. My Queen is trying to call me.” She cleared her throat. “Go ahead, Your Majesty.”

There was a pause lasting several moments. I looked to K’edeli; she just shrugged. I guess only Vardi can actually hear her talk. Is it telekinesis? Or something attached to that amulet?

Her eyes widened in surprise. “You’re kidding! Should I tell the others, or. . . ?”

Another pause.

“Then. . . ?”

A longer pause. I could tell she was hearing instructions, whatever they may be.

“Him, too?”

Me, too?

“This should be interesting. No guarantee he’ll like it, though.”

I swallowed hard, again looking to K’edeli. She just held me tightly, this time moving behind me, as if to assure me that everything’s going to be fine.

“Well, that’ll put a slight damper in today’s plans,” Vardi continued. “We’ve volunteered to do housework for him. But from the looks of it – ”

A pause.

“You’re not the only one. Alright, I’ll break the news to him. He’s right next to me, anyway. End.” She stood back up, motioning for me to come inside, through the back door.

No, not like that.

“Just how far away is it?” I asked her when we were inside.

“That’s classified,” she said, “but luckily for you, you don’t have to walk there.” She snapped her fingers. “Knaro!” she called out. “Modi akši!”

Knari showed up promptly. Rdze and Balishi were already in the room; K’edeli had entered with me.

“Our Queen has recalled us to the Hive,” she explained. Pointing at me, she added, “Him included.”

They all nodded solemnly. “We are prepared,” Balishi said, in a calm tone uncharacteristic of her otherwise-boisterous attitude. Perhaps that was just a character, meant to please me?

Vardi’s hidden horn flared green, before it cast a beam of light upon the floor. A fiery green circle lit up, and one by one we stepped into the center of it, sinking into the ground.

Owing to my cowardice, I was the last to go. The feeling was –

⁂

– indescribable. Wait, what?

This place I found myself in, the Hive I presumed, was dimly-lit and smelled like nothing I had ever known before. Not unpleasant by any measure – but it would be quite unusual in Equestria. Around me, the other Changelings were kneeling down, prompting me to do the same. Flanking me were several Queensguards, mighty in size and strength, each carrying a heavy polearm – a visual warning if I had not kneeled, because I was kneeling before Queen Chrysalis.

“So glad you could join us, Etaoin Shrdlu,” she purred. “Just the stallion I wanted to see.”

At least she didn’t seem hostile. But there still remained the question – “With all due respect,” I cautiously asked, “why exactly have you brought me here?”

“I wanted to share the good news with both you and your. . . impromptu harem,” she responded. “Rise.”

All of us rose at her seemingly-hypnotic command.

“Etaoin Shrdlu,” she slowly intoned, “you. . . have my magnanimous gratitude. It may be hard to believe, but your efforts have save brought this hive back from the brink of extinction.”

Somehow I felt like I had just betrayed Equestria. Had I?

“Do you know how much love you gave us? Through my own subjects?”

How was I supposed to know? “. . . no?”

She clasped her fingers before her. “My Hive has six enormous larders, each capable of supplying us – all of us – for five years in isolation,” she explained. “A combined thirty years – longer if we ration, or shorter with a larger swarm. You can imagine how much each can hold.

“Inside a single night, your generosity and our telephile amulets filled four to capacity.”

As the other changelings cheered, my jaw dropped. A one-night stand with a changeling harem somehow gave them hope!? “How was that possible!?” I asked above their voices.

She silenced them with a wave of her hand. “As it turns out,” she answered, “my chief mage found a quirk in those amulets. When deployed in groups instead of singly, the streams of love become multiplied rather than divided.”

Really? That was it? “Well, I’m. . . glad to help,” I said, “but I would like to go home now.”

“Not so fast,” she said. “I have a proposition to you. With how quickly you can supply us, even compared to other ponies, we are not so keen to give you up.”

“I’m not about to betray Equestria, if that’s what you’re asking me!” I snapped. Oops. Bad move.

But she laughed. “Perish the thought! With this much love, we can leave them be.” She clasped her hands in front of her. “In exchange for continuing to feed us, we’ll see to it that you become a Consort to my Hive, never working another day in your life, just being pampered by a massive harem of hungry changelings to feed and grow, waiting on you hand and hoof.” She leaned forward, almost into my face. “Does that sound good to you?”

I was well and truly speechless. They had gotten enough from just one night from me, and they still want more? Just how desperate were these changelings?

She smiled. “You ever wanted to bed one of the Princesses?” she asked. “I can make them all loyal members of your harem.” She snapped her fingers, and three changeling workers promptly threw on disguises of both Royal Sisters, and Princess Cadance of the Crystal Empire.

“Or perhaps you want ponies closer to home. How about the Elements of Harmony?” Again a snap of her fingers, again several more workers disguised themselves accordingly. “Any combination, any size, any shape, doing anything you want.

“Would a roomful of Roselucks satisfy you?” This time she didn’t even snap her fingers – all nine workers quickly redisguised themselves as her. “Just the one special somepony your heart desires, multiplied by whatever number the rest of you desires.”

She put a hand to her chin. “Or maybe you don’t really care who they are, just so much as what they are: big, tall, thick, and lusting for ever-larger sizes.” I felt a powerful grip on my shoulder – I didn’t turn around; I knew it was K’edeli, having bulked back up, seemingly to entice me. Before me, I watched Rdze and Balishi respectively plump up their breasts and rear. Balishi backed herself into my crotch, while Rdze let out a trickle of milk from both her nipples. Meanwhile, my hands absentmindedly found themselves around Vardi and Knari – although the latter was kneeling down to be closer to my height.

None of them had their usual disguises on.

Then Vardi leaned into my ear. “She’s desperate to hold onto you, but she doesn’t want to show it,” she whispered. “Far as you’re concerned, you name your price and she’ll pay it.”

Hmm. . . . If what Vardi was saying was true, then I had a few things in mind. And as much as I’d like to stay here and live out the rest of my life in endless pleasure, I do still have a job and life back in Ponyville.

“How much mana does teleportation cost?” I whispered back to Vardi.

“Quite a bit,” she answered, “but it’s a lot more affordable when factoring you in.”

Then that settled it. “Subject to my ability to enter and leave your Hive freely,” I told the changeling queen, “I accept your proposal.”

She smiled – serenely, genuinely, without a hint of malice. An acceptable cost, then. “Most excellent,” she said. “You have chosen well, Etaoin Shrdlu.” With a sweep of her arm, she indicated the workers once again. “These are now part of your harem. I expect them to please you however you like.” Her hands returned to her lap. “Should you ever need or want anything else, you need only ask.” With a snap of her fingers, she barked some commands in rapid-fire Cvalebadi.

K’edeli unceremoniously scooped me up in her arms, and I was whisked away to another part of the hive. Judging by the number of tunnels I saw on the way, we must be somewhere underground, which made figuring out where I even was that much harder. Complicating matters further is that the tunnels kept opening and closing seemingly at random, but of course a changeling can predict when that would happen.

After several minutes of what seemed to me aimless wandering, we finally happened upon a chamber. It was empty, save for us and some sort of green chemical lighting lining the ceiling, and very, very large – large enough that I wondered just how it hadn’t caved in before.

Even as K’edeli finally lowered me to the ground, I was reluctant to take a step, in fear of even the lightest vibrations setting off a deadly cave-in. But then I remembered, as I looked behind me, K’edeli and the others were all enormous, and consequently far heavier than I – so it stood to reason it could withstand some vibration.

Hold on a second. I did a quick head count. Vardi and her crew, that’s five, plus the nine from the throne room – but what I saw was a lot more than fourteen. “There shouldn’t be this many,” I said when I lost count at thirty-three. “Where did the rest of you come from?” Is Chrysalis really this generous?

“We have heard of Vardi’s great success for the Hive,” one of them said. “As such, even without our Queen to command it so, we offer ourselves to you.” A flash of green, and there stood Captain Spitfire of the Wonderbolts. “All of us,” ‘Spitfire’ continued, in flawless mimicry of her raspy voice. “You shall not be left wanting in our care.”

One by one, I saw more flashes of green go up, and each time they were replaced with a pony – usually ones I knew from Ponyville, but there were a few surprises here and there; celebrities, royalty, even reformed nemeses – nopony was off the table.

“Anypony you want. . . ,” ‘Twilight’ told me.

The mass of changelings started surrounding me.

“. . . any time you want. . . ,” ‘Princess Celestia’ continued.

They started closing in on me.

“. . . any place you want. . . ,” ‘Rainbow Dash’ added.

The ones closest to me started putting their hands on me. K’edeli did nothing to stop them.

“. . . any way you want. . . ,” ‘Derpy Hooves’ chimed in.

Now I was completely surrounded by naked flesh. ‘Spitfire’ was still in front of me, clutching my shoulders and pressing her chest into mine.

“. . . any shape. . . .” ‘Spitfire’ started expanding her assets. I felt a familiar tingling in my hands and crotch – the former from telekinesis, as some changeling forced my hands upon her engorging hips and tush; the latter from more obvious causes.

“. . . any size. . . .” ‘Applejack’ promptly shot up taller than me, until I came face-to-nethers with her. She seemed to flex her muscular thighs for me, almost as if roaring to grow even more.

“. . . from now until forever,” Vardi finished. By now I was completely engulfed in warm, swollen flesh, pressing in hard from all sides, yet cushioning me at the same time.

Between two patches of flesh, I saw a head poke through – one belonging to ‘Pinkie Pie.’ “Isn’t this great!?” she asked excitedly. “Before you couldn’t find any mare even half the size of the smallest one here. Now look around you!” She squeezed the rest of her meatified form through. “Tiddies! Tummies! Tushies! Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?”

. . . well.

I could certainly have some fun with this.

Chapter 4 - Interdependence

interdependence | ɪnˌtʰɚ.dəˈpʰɛn.dəns | noun
The condition of being mutually reliant.

Days and weeks of constant rumbling, clacking, and thumping, once blending into one another into a constant annoyance, now seemed to fade into the background. The day following my deal with Queen Chrysalis, I managed to return to work, and took to the Wondertype by storm. Just as well: the job was just getting to Minion Fleuron, and she started getting nervous about casting bad slugs. (Never mind that Lorem Ipsum had seldom rejected her slugs for that reason.) But now I was back in the shop, working as hard as ever, and vis-à-vis that random day off, nopony was the wiser.

And the best part? We were actually working on the very last page, a week ahead of schedule.

We also had the radio on, for the first time in what seemed like forever. We first switched it off a month ago so we could concentrate on the task at hand, but now that we were on the home stretch – for real this time (although completing the actual dictionary corpus was nothing to scoff at) – we could afford having the background entertainment. The classical music frequency gave us a real treat: a waltz from a play production in Canterlot the fortnight before, thoroughly organized down to the last note, reflecting how we were a well-oiled machine at work. Just as the conductor’s hand directed the musicians in the orchestra, so too did an occult hand direct us in our final push.

“Column A is full,” Minion called out.

Good as the orchestra was, that was music to my ears. The very last thing in the book was a letter from Twilight, outlining the dictionary’s raison d’être. It was characteristically checklist-and-caliper of her, and consequently a bit longer than we were expecting – still, we hadn’t had to resort to any drastic cuts in length. From the look of the galley proof so far, we likely have less than a column left.

And, again, this was the last page.

So Minion and I were definitely on top of things. Any time – any time – either of us started getting fatigued at the Wondertype, we immediately switched out. I got back on for the third time about an hour ago, and I was still going strong, just hammering out slug after slug, keypress by keypress, on and on and on, never slowing, never tiring, never making any mistakes, just a constant flow of lead from molten in the crucible to solid bars with Princess Twilight’s words to add to the page, it was the pure esssence of typography, in practical application, a calm serenity to the chaotic world around us –

“Extra S in essence,” Lorem told me.

. . . well, nopony’s perfect.

Actually, that’s another matter. Even as the changelings provided me an outlet for my perversions, I’ve still made an effort to keep them under wraps. But even so, they tend to bleed out from time to time; so far I’m just fortunate enough that they only show up as typos. Probably the closest I got to being caught was misspelling thick with two Cs and no K. I mean, really, who does that!?

We were getting down to the wire here – at this point, I could count the number of lines I have left on both hands. Home stretch. We can do this. I can do this.

A few moments later, I cast a new slug. Minion took it as her cue to snap up a carved wooden block. “Here’s her signature, two-and-a-half picas. . . .”

“Add three points of leading above and below, and tweak for balance,” I told her. That added up to three picas, allowing it to merge seamlessly with the rest of the galley, not to mention letting it breathe between lines.

She fitted that, and the slug, together on the page – and per my prescription, she put two points of leading above it, and four below. Even at a glance, I could tell it would come out perfectly – meaning she’s got the art of leading on her belt. I couldn’t show it, but I was damn proud of her.

Right, now for the last few short lines. T-w-i-l-i-g-h-t-#-S-p-a-r-k-l-e. Pull lever. Cast slug. Lorem approves. Next line. P-r-i-n-c-e-ſ-s-#-o-f-#-F-r-i-e-n-d-ſ-h-i-p. Pull lever. Cast slug. “Transposed E and I in Friendſhip.” Piss! Alright, one more time. P-r-i-n-c-e-ſ-s-#-o-f-#-F-r. . . i. . . e – good! – n-d-ſ-h-i-p. Pull lever. Cast slug. Lorem approves this time. Next and final line. P-o-n-y-v-i-l-l-e-,-#-E-q-u-e-ſ-t-r-i-a-,-#-1-0-0-6. “Minion?” I had my hand hovering over the casting lever. “It’s time.”

She looked up, smiled, then flounced over to pull it down with me. It was a tradition we had worked out with one another: whatever the printing job we had, we always cast the last line of text together. With her hand on top of mine, we pulled.

The Wondertype spat out the slug just a moment later. Lorem scooped it up and quickly ran his eyes over it. “Column B, and that’s a wrap,” he announced. “Your turn, Foolscap.”

Foolscap looked up, smiled in satisfaction, and started with his part: pressing the blocks into the signatures – printing thirty-two pages at a time – for a dozen proof copies. These we would then stitch together, attach to coverboards, and then it was off to Princess Twilight Sparkle and her friends for their final approval. (I could only wonder just what Rarity would say about the choice of typeface.) Then, assuming they approve of it, it would be time to do the full print run of one thousand copies. After that, who knows? If we did well enough with this, we might be able to afford a second Wondertype, so Minion and I can type out slugs at the same time.

The door flew open. “Etaoin Shrdlu.”

. . . or we just might get chewed out by the Princess of Friendship herself.

Okay, play it cool Etaoin. Play it cool. “Your Highness,” I greeted, getting up from the Wondertype. “You caught me at a good time. We were just finished with typesetting Your dictionary; Foolscap is running them through the printer right now. You should expect the proof copies on Your doorstep this time tomorrow.”

It did give her pause for a moment. “That is good news,” she spoke after a moment, “but that’s not why I came here right now.” She approached me, getting close enough that I could almost hear her breathing. “Could we talk someplace private?” she asked.

I nodded. “Follow me.” As I led the princess out of the room, I called back, “Minion, take care of the Wondertype, would you?”

“On it!” She started with emptying the crucible, pouring the type metal into ingots before switching it off.

⁂

Once we were on the other side of the printer, in the storeroom for the covers, I locked the door behind us. “So what’s this about?” I asked.

She crossed her arms. “I think we both know the answer to that.”

“I honestly don’t.” I tilted my head. “If it’s something about the turnaround, know that we’ve never strayed from – ”

“It’s not about your job,” she interrupted. “Or anyone else in your shop. It’s about something we’ve been seeing around town. I suspect you might know at least a thing or two about it.”

“Ponyville knows me as a workaholic,” I told her. “If I’m not in the shop, then I’m at home, and if I’m not there either, then I’m at the market. With all due respect, where is Your Highness going with this?”

She pinched the bridge of her snout. “Do you at least recall the royal wedding in Canterlot?” she eventually asked.

The royal wedding? Of course! There had only been one of those in living memory, that between Prince Shining Armor (Princess Twilight’s brother, no less) and Princess Mi Amore Cadenza. And anypony would tell you precisely how the ceremony went wrong the first time around, even if they hadn’t been there; she had no reason to bring it up if it were still common knowledge. So that would mean – oh.

Oh.

Oh no.

“Etaoin.” Her tone was calm and even, betraying not even a hint of anger. She must be winding something up for me, working her way up to a righteous fury. “I know you’re harboring changelings in your home.”

I bit my tongue. It was easier just to say nothing.

And continue she did: “It’s harder than you think, keeping them from public view. Not when the alibis of Roseluck, Octavia Melody, Vinyl Scratch, and Lyra Heartstrings conflict with what I had seen.” She raised an eyebrow; my heart started racing. “And just this morning?” She snapped her fingers, producing a black scrap of what looked like paper. “Somepony found this molted chitin in your trash bin.”

. . . yeah. Can’t deny that bit.

“So what’s going on here?” the princess asked me. “Why are these changelings here in Ponyville? Why are they disguised as Roseluck? Lyra? Octavia and Vinyl? And I could swear I saw a glimpse of Marble Pie as well – usually she’s too shy to make the trip to Ponyville.” Crap! Of all the disguises she could’ve gone with – !

“If I may ask,” I started. “How did Your Highness come to suspect me to begin with?” Surely they wouldn’t’ve gotten sloppy with their aliases, not when the real deals were well known to Princess Twilight and their friends. Skies above, Vardi and Knari were seasoned Infiltrators!

“Funnily enough, it started with your apprentice Minion Fleuron.” Minion! But how? And why? “When you answered the door sick one day – ” well, ‘I,’ at any rate – “she didn’t really believe it to be true, not when you’ve consistently come to work in worse condition than you claimed.” She put a hand to her chin. “Which makes me suspect that wasn’t really ‘you’ per se. . . .” Thanks a lot for that, K’edeli.

I sighed. The cat really was out of the bag; there wasn’t any way around it, not with so much evidence stacked against me. “It was around. . . two months ago, give or take,” I started. “When the typesetting job started to get to me, when I cast seven bad type slugs in a row, my brother Lorem Ipsum insisted I leave the shop for a visit to the Spa. I went inside the steam bath, and found myself face-to-face with. . . well, her.”

“Queen Chrysalis herself.”

“Indeed.” My heart was still racing – the changelings knew all about my perversions, but now I was about to confess them to somepony else. Somepony – one of my own, and royalty to boot. “She. . . somehow was able to look into my mind and see. . . what I like.” I had to spit those last three words out. “She thought she could take advantage of it, leverage my. . . desires to her benefit.” I chuckled – a nervous laugh, and nothing more. “Changelings feed off of love, though I don’t think I need to tell Your Highness that.”

“I’m well familiar with that fact,” she said. “They quickly adapt to suit anyone, doing whatever it takes to get the most love.” Her stern face softened somewhat into a smirk. “And I can see how they’ve adapted to you specifically.”

The printer gets hotter the longer it runs, so it was only when she said that that I could finally feel my cheeks flame from within.

Thankfully she didn’t linger on that embarrassing subject. “Clearly you’ve taken some sort of deal with Queen Chrysalis, feeding her and her hive with your love,” she said. “But before I continue, I have to ask – why did you take that deal? What was in it for you?” And after a moment’s thought, “Besides that changeling harem of yours.”

I couldn’t find an answer, not without sounding shallow. The harem alone was her end of the deal; and though she did indeed offer more, I simply saw no need for it.

Her Highness sighed. “Alright. . . you weren’t supposed to know about this yet, but it looks like you’re in way too deep as it is.” She cleared her throat. “I’m sure you’ve heard, at least from Chrysalis, that her hive was running low on their stores of love – that much we could tell from pegasus flyovers. A friend of mine, Sunset Shimmer – you wouldn’t’ve heard of her – had suggested extending them an olive branch, just giving their love directly, in exchange for them working more openly, no more sneaking around and draining it outright.

“Princesses Celestia and Cadance especially weren’t completely convinced that it was a good idea, but Sunset insisted that we forgive them for the invasion.” She sighed. “And for all the damage they’ve tried to cause us, I’ll admit I’d be a little hypocritical if I were to forgive Starlight Glimmer for what she did and not Queen Chrysalis.” She tittered – the first sign of humor in her otherwise serious composure. “But it looks like you beat all of us to the punch.”

I nodded. “That I did, that I did.”

“I just hope it doesn’t come back to bite us,” she finished. “Did she promise anything to that effect?”

“She did, now that Your Highness mentioned it,” I answered. “Apparently I’m all the hive needs – and so long as I can provide enough for them, I can make sure they won’t touch you.”

“At the very least, it can tide her over until more formal negotiations can take place.” She sighed – I could hear the tension leave her body. “For now, do all of us a favor and don’t bring those changelings outside your home, with or without a disguise.”

Well, that should be easy enough to manage. Keep them in the home, or at least in the yard, and hopefully nopony else puts two and two together. “Fair enough,” I said. “Was there anything else Your Highness wanted to discuss?”

“No, that’s the long and short of it.” Princess Twilight’s hand reached over to the door and clicked the lock open. But when she swung it open, we found Minion Fleuron standing there.

Bad enough that Twilight figured out what was going on between me and Chrysalis – but my own apprentice, too? The one pony who was supposed to look up to me for guidance? How could I hope to have her take me seriously ever again!? “Have you been eavesdropping?” I asked, my voice betraying more fear than anger.

“. . . mayyybe,” she answered. “I got the Wondertype all taken down, so Lorem excused me for the rest of the day – and I was wondering just what Princess Twilight wanted to talk to you about.”

“That’s between me and Her Highness only,” I reprimanded her, crossing my arms. “Just how much of our conversation did you hear, anyway?”

She didn’t answer at first – not verbally, anyway. She gave me a smug grin, which told me everything I needed to know – everything I needed to fear. “Oh don’t worry, Sir,” she then said. “I won’t tell a soul.” So in other words, ‘just about everything, including all the embarrassing stuff, but don’t worry, you can trust me not to tell anypony – just as long as I can call in a favor or two.’

I wasn’t sure how I was going to deal with that.

Twilight made her way back out, casting a cursory glance back at me and Minion, as if Her Highness were just as unsure as I was about what my apprentice had meant.

Once I was sure she was out of earshot, I turned to Minion. “You’re going to blackmail me over this, aren’t you?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Sir,” she said. “Besides, everypony’s got a type. Even you. Even me.” Together we started making our way back to the typesetting room.

A. . . ‘type.’ Yes. That’s quite succinct. “I suppose so.” Let’s leave it at that, shall we?

“You do know you live on my way to the shop, right?” she asked. “That means I could sneak a peek inside.”

. . . she just can’t do it, can she?

“After all,” she continued, “even a workaholic like you has to have eyes for somepony. I’ve seen the way you talk to Roseluck whenever she pops in for new advertisements, and I gotta say, even I think she’s cute. And witty, once you get to know her. At the same time, however – ” she spun around to face me, making me stop – “you can’t help but look for all the creature comforts of the fairer sex, can you?”

She came right up to my face, close enough that I could hear her speaking quietly even with the printer running. “You like huge, heaving tits, pillow-soft and chock-full of warm, creamy milk.” As she spoke, I could feel my face turning more and more red. “Wide, doorframe-busting hips to carry an entire generation of foals with ease; thick, plush thighs wider around than your entire torso; two globular asscheeks to cushion your every blow and thrust as you plow into her cunt from behind; strong, bulging muscles big enough to carry you into the bedroom; looming, towering heights forcing you to crane your neck up to take in all of her; and maybe just a hint of tummy chub to curl up and lie down upon as you drift off to sleep after a night of passionate breeding.”

She looked down. “And there you go, you’re trying to restrain that type slug in your pants. Hit the nail on the head, didn’t I?”

I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to sit down, covering my burning-hot face as I tried to hide away from my own shame. It was supposed to be secret, at least between me and Chrysalis; bad enough that Princess Twilight Sparkle had to find out as well, but did my own apprentice need to learn as well? I could already see the headlines in the local paper: Tiny Typesetter Is Obsessed With Giant Changeling Who’s 4 Times His Size!

But she sat down next to me, putting an arm around my back. “It’s alright if you like mares that big.” I looked up, and saw her smile, genuinely smile – before she winked at me. “I do too!”

⁂

The walk home was quiet. I welcomed it, after that shameful experience down on the printer floor. It was just around the start of summer, and it was warm enough that I rolled up my sleeves, even though I wasn’t in that sweltering shop.

I breathed in, counted one, two, three, then let it out, one, two, three. Things were going to be just fine. Minion had promised me not to tell another soul about my secret, even if she were far more accepting than I was; and Princess Twilight had been working on a deal with the Hive, one that I had accidentally worked myself into.

I just hope I never have to deal with them, I thought. At best it would drag out into a boring filibuster; at worst I’d be labeled a traitor.

This time I decided to make a detour, turning left sooner so I could walk past the Flower Trio’s home. It was still the way home, just not my usual one. As I passed by, I spotted Roseluck tending to their front yard.

As soon as I saw her look up in my direction, I waved out to her.

She waved back, with a measure less enthusiasm.

Not a word crossed the gap, but it was all we needed.

To her, I was a fellow resident of Ponyville, and a dependable pony for new prints; I’ve never let her down, and I don’t intend to start now. To me, she was a natural beauty, a clever, witty mare, and a genuine joy to be around – all things changelings could copy.

And copy they did, with exceeding accuracy.

One such copy was waiting for me when I returned home. I didn’t even bother fishing out my key; as soon as I approached the door, I heard the lock click and saw it swing open for me.

I glanced at ‘Lyra,’ no doubt Knari under the veneer, and nodded my approval. This carried a glimmer of love for her, a quick bite to eat in changeling terms.

A thought crossed my mind. I unpinned the pin button from my shirt, and flipped it away from me like a coin. In midair green flames shot up from underneath, and what landed on the floor was K’edeli, now back in her usual Marble Pie guise.

“Back so soon, Master?” Knari asked.

“Princess Twilight’s dictionary is nearly complete,” I told her. “Finally cleared the last page, we’re putting together proofs, and with any luck we won’t have to redo anything major.” In truth, I did expect to fix at least a dozen pages once the princess gave her feedback, but that was a drop in the bucket compared to the dictionary corpus alone.

“Speaking of,” K’edeli chimed in, “you’ll never guess who showed up right when they started up the printer.”

I put up a hand. “Now now, there’s no need to – ”

“Yes, there is.” She crossed her arms, confident in her abilities. “Anything to make sure our source of food doesn’t run into any trouble.” Right. Queensguard. Very protective. “While I was pinned to your shirt, I saw you cast the last type slug with Minion, only to be interrupted by Twilight. I watched you confess to her everything you’ve done for us – I would have intervened, had our own spies in the Crystal Empire not have known about the deal they’re trying to piece together. And yes, I saw you do it all over again with Minion.” She put a hand to her chin. “I wonder if she would. . . no. One is enough; two would raise suspicion. That which is hoarded soon is lost.”

I made my way into the kitchen. It was pretty hot today, and I could use some ice water to temper the heat.

Almost like they could read my mind – despite all their claims to the contrary – I found a glass and pitcher of ice water on the counter. Absentmindedly, I poured one for myself, but as I tipped the glass back to my mouth, I looked up and saw Vardi, in her usual Roseluck appearance.

Well, ‘Roseluck+’ would be a more accurate description.

Certainly changelings can copy ponies exactly, and other creatures as well (or so they’ve told me), but what got the most love out of them was copying not the pony exactly, but the idealized version of said pony. And said ideals vary greatly; what works with me may not work with Lorem. (Though Minion said it would work with her.)

Vardi was very flexible with her figure – even moreso when she wasn’t constrained by the walls of my home. Here, she was tall enough that I came up only to her navel, her body packed with muscle all around, softened by a considerable layer of fat, from her thick thighs, to her wide hips, even her arms and face were well-padded – to say nothing about her engorged tits and rear, both of which enticed me with their sheer size and volume, even when clad in some tightly-fitted denim pants and a blouse with exactly one (1) button done up, revealing her cleavage and belly. By every single physical metric, she was bigger than me.

And I wouldn’t have her any other way.

“I thought I heard some dork at the doorway,” she said. “How was work today, sweetie?” Ah, and she still had that sweet-as-honey personality.

I swallowed my drink. “It went perfectly fine, all things considered,” I said. “Though I won’t deny its ups and downs. No doubt you’ve already heard from K’edeli about what happened towards the end. . . .”

“I have,” she said. “I’d say that was a close call, but we really cannot take any more chances.” When I raised my eyebrow, she went on: “K’edeli also tells me about what that princess of yours is plotting. I’d rather not be here whenever it comes to fruition.” She knelt down to me, as I poured another glass. “And I imagine you don’t want to be here either.”

“Because of the deal?” I asked.

“Not necessarily,” she answered with a smirk. “By that, I meant ‘Wouldn’t you rather curl up in bed surrounded by big fat tiddies and curves?’”

I said nothing; she knew all my buttons. Instead, I just let my crotch do the talking.

She giggled. “I thought so. Want a hug? Get some of those urges out of the way?”

“Delighted.” I set the glass down and planted my face into her stomach, my hands reaching as far up and around as they could go – which, as it were, was only the bottom fold of her cushy tushie, something I liked to jiggle in this position. I breathed deeply, taking in her subtle scent – of comfort, safety, and most of all love. “Thanks, Hon,” I said, without taking my face out from her.

It was only meant with more giggling, which vibrated nicely down her soft-yet-firm body. “Did you just call me Mom?” she asked.

Uh, no?

But she just picked me up anyway. “You did, didn’t you?” she cooed. “You want me to be your Mommy?”

. . . admittedly, that didn’t sound like a bad idea. She was certainly built for the job, if nothing else. “. . . yes,” I eventually answered. “Can we go home now, ‘Mom’?” ‘Home’ in this context meaning the Hive, not my Ponyville address.

“Sure,” she said. A green glow around her forehead told me Vardi was warming up a portal spell back to Chrysalis’s Hive. Normally it took a prohibitive amount of glamor just for one pony, never mind more, but with the amount I put out regularly, it quickly became a nonissue. (It also helped that they’ve further optimized them using familiar waypoints, which further reduced its cost.)

Sensing the portal forming, Knari came over to join us. A moment later, green flames shot up from under the floor, and we began to descend into the Hive, an untold distance away. We left K’edeli behind, as usual – part of her job, per her insistence, was guarding my house, despite my own assurance that it was unnecessary.

⁂

Instead of Chrysalis’s throne room, we popped up in my usual place: the massive cavern – which, I had learned in the months since, was located almost dead center in the hive, right below the throne room. Meaning she considered me more valuable than herself. Of course, with the amount of trust I had built up with the Hive, no part of it was off limits to me. But they knew just as much where I preferred to stay.

But I digress.

There before me laid my harem – of a considerable size, by both their numbers and their combined mass. And all of them were just as eager to serve me now as they were when they first joined. They really can’t get enough of the stuff, can they? But then, neither could I.

“Hmm. . . .” Vardi considered something – then decided: one green flash later, there she was again, still as ‘Roseluck,’ only now wearing a string bikini top and a thong, the latter covered by a thin sarong. The right balance between classy and sensual. She’s buttering me up for something, I realized. But what?

“Here you go, sweetie.” She set me down on the ground – well, for a given value of ‘ground’; she had set me on an indistinct mound of flesh, the actual ground being far below me (and growing even further as the workers kept excavating the cavern to make even more room for us) – and stepped away. “I’ve got something to take care of first. Don’t you worry – Mommy’s going to be right back!”

That left me in the care of the other changelings – a good mixture of Workers, Guards, Honeypots, Nurses, and a few Infiltrators and Queensguards. Where do I start with them? The answer, usually, was “Whatever I want,” but I found it more enjoyable if they surprised me with their own ideas.

Which is just what happened here. “Hi there!” ‘Princess Twilight Sparkle’ welcomed me – or rather, just ‘Twilight.’ “What would you like to start with?” she then asked. “Bigger tits? Fatter butts? Wider hips? Thicker thighs? Soft, round tummies, packed with fat or foals? Strong, firm muscles? Looming, towering heights?” With each suggestion, a part of herself grew up or out, but did not necessarily shrink back down, as if she were trying to entice me. “Maybe all of these, or something I haven’t thought of! No upper limits either, so don’t be shy!”

Always the same question, just phrased differently each time.

I shrugged. “Surprise me.” Maybe it’ll be another date with the Royal Sisters – I so do enjoy the contrast between their body types: while both of them were perfect (and massive!) hourglasses, Celestia was more fat, while Luna was more muscle. Not to mention they kept offering each other up to me. Usually I took both in some fashion.

“You got it!” Twilight snapped her fingers, and another figure stepped forward.

“Good afternoon, Master,” ‘Fluttershy’ greeted me. “I’ve got your lunch right here, in m-my breasts. Lie down, and s-suckle for as long as you like. . . .” While I knew she was actually a changeling, none of them had made the effort to introduce their real selves – save for Vardi and her handpicked four, and of course their Queen.

That imitation, for what it was worth, was spot-on, but right before I could say as much, my stomach rumbled. “. . . yeah, I think I’d better do that,” I said. It wasn’t like we had lunch at the shop, not when we got the last signature done so quickly. I set myself down, lying back, letting Fluttershy unbutton her blouse and plant a fat nipple right on my lips. I took to it like my oldest instincts, letting the creamy sweetness fill me slowly to the brim. Warm. Soothing. Comforting.

Everything Balishi was not. “Yo! I heard someone got a big job done today,” she loudly called out. “How ya livin’, dude? Gotta be pretty tired after a hard day’s work!” Even now, she was still in her ‘Vinyl’ disguise.

Well, half a day, and she’s doing well to compensate for the other half. “You could say that,” I answered, after removing the nipple from my mouth. “Now would you mind? I’m rather tired at the moment.”

“I mean, I get what you’re saying, but. . . .” Turning around, she started pulling a great amount of glamor from who-knows-where, causing her rear end to swell up to a size I would never have imagined in my house – but the cavern had plenty of room for. “Butt.”

“. . . well,” I admitted, “maybe in a few moments.” I returned to my meal.

“Speaking of. . . .” Behind me, I felt ‘Applejack’ shift her massive buns. “If you’ve got a need to spread your seed, my backside’s got lots of cushion for the pushin’, Sugarcube! Go hard as you want; I can take it!”

“You’re not the only one, farmgal!” Balishi shook her rump from side to side. “I’ve been doing this longer than you have; I know he likes my fat ass better than yours!”

“We’ll see about that, Nelly!” With that, both of them became locked in a standoff, each trying to outgrow the other to entice me to fuck one over the other. The end result was that Fluttershy and I got swallowed up between them, almost plunging into darkness.

“Don’t listen to them,” she whispered. “You just focus on drinking my milk. There you go,” she cooed as I suckled, “isn’t that good? And you can have as much as you want; you’ll never run out.” She flopped over to the right, not that it did me much good.

Except it incidentally did: I felt someone trying to crawl through the mass of flesh on my left. When I darted my eyes, I saw a faint periwinkle glow pierce the darkness: ‘Rarity’ had sought me out for something. “There you are, darling!” she proudly crowed. “I was wondering when exactly you would shed that unsightly outfit of yours. Nudity is in season this summer – after all, how can one dress improperly if one does not dress at all?”

The irony was that I buy all my work shirts from the real Rarity.

“Go on, then – off with them!” Her arcane grasp found my clothes, and seemingly in one swift, fluid motion, they all came away – somehow in one piece this time. (Usually they tear them away instead, which the changelings particularly enjoyed, but they always repaired or replaced them as needed, so nopony would suspect anything.) But I will admit, once they were off, everything just felt better without the thin layers of cloth to block off the most sensual sensations.

“Much better!” she said. “I was thinking, while you were away: while Fluttershy, Applejack, and Vinyl pleasure you, I could head out and gather up as many mares as I can find, so you can fatten them up and use them as you please.” By the way she beamed, I could tell she was particularly proud of this idea of hers. “Tell me, darling: how big would you like your harem to be?”

As tempting as the offer was, the truth is that the larger the harem became, the less intimate I could become with each ‘mare.’ It was tricky balancing five at the start, especially when they can ‘reässign’ themselves by appearance as I grew bored of them, but that pesky principle of multiplying streams of love instead of dividing them only kept my harem growing as big as each individual member.

But hey, at no point with them have I ever been bored.

“I’ll be fine, ‘darling,’” I told her. “At least for the moment.” I could change my mind as soon as my eyes dart over a newspaper, seeing a new mare for whom I might have an inkling of desire. The changelings would sense that, and seize upon it in an instant, and before I knew it I was able to bed her however I wished.

Or I could pick up new identities through changeling espionage from faraway lands. That was how I managed to get a particularly powerful mare – Tempest Shadow, violet and mulberry with a broken horn, apparently in command of a large army – to worship my cock, frightened of whatever I might do to her if she did not.

Now that felt great.

Eventually, both Balishi and Applejack backed away from each other, reëxposing me to the warm light and cool air of the cavern. As soon as my lips fell away from Fluttershy’s nipple, I could tell my stomach was packed to the gills with milk. I knew I was going to gain weight from their constant feedings, but somehow I was quick to burn through them all, making it a moot point.

“Ta-da!” I’d recognize that sweet, hyperactive voice anywhere. “Just whipped up a bunch of yummy treats for you!” ‘Pinkie Pie’ bounded over to me, bouncing over every obstacle like it was spring-loaded. “And I can suck your dick while you eat, honey-bunny. . . .”

“Thank you, Pinkie,” I said, “but I’m afraid Fluttershy beat you to me. Again.”

Her fury was comical. “No fair! You always do this to me!” she said. “You just can’t let him have anything I make for him, can’t you!?”

“Please, Pinkie,” Fluttershy retorted – softly, but now with a bit more force in her voice. “He’s had a stressful day today; right now he just wants some peace and quiet – don’t you, Master?”

As much as I hated to disappoint Pinkie, Fluttershy was right. I nodded weakly.

Pinkie’s anger deflated into disappointment – literally: her mane lost its trademark poofiness and fell into straight locks. “Aww. . . .”

“Maybe next time.” I stood up on my hooves – only to get swept right off of them a second later by a gigantic mint-green hand.

“There you are, Master!” Knari said. “I couldn’t find you in this pile of massive mares.”

As nice as her hand felt, as massive as she herself was, it didn’t feel quite the same as someone more muscle-bound. And with K’edeli keeping an eye at my other home, whom did that leave me with?

Oh right, ‘Rainbow Dash.’ Like I said, I had no idea who most of these changelings really were, but I had heard this one was also a Queensguard. Certainly she was hard to miss, what with her rainbow mane and tail.

And I in turn was hard for her to miss – she dug her way out of Knari’s cleavage, seemingly on cue. “Ugh, can I take these off now?” she complained. “I can grow to my full size in ten seconds flat without them holding me back! This is awful!” Indeed, she was bound inside a Wonderbolts flight suit, only much more tightly-fitted and inflexible than the real thing.

“Oh?” I asked in mock interest. “Does somepony need a little help getting out of there?” With a motion of my hand, I told Knari to dig her out – which she did.

She groaned. “Yeeesss. . . .” she admitted. No doubt my offer weighed heavily on her pride.

I grabbed the front zipper and slid it down just a bit – two or three inches at most – and already I could see powerful muscles start bulging out of the flightsuit’s collar. I tugged it further, very carefully, just enough to reveal more of her – and the more I unzipped, the more her muscles bulged and swelled out of her flightsuit.

“Feels a lot better already,” she said. “Now c’mon – get all of me out of here!” Just the slightest movements made the suit creak audibly. At least, I think that’s the suit.

I finally pulled the zipper past her chest, and almost like a jack-in-the-box, out sprang her breasts, so quickly and so forcefully that they nearly smacked me in the jaw. Their size and weight were far more appropriate for a mare closer to Knari’s current height; in fact, the latter had to hold them up and away from me.

In for a bit. . . . I resolved to pull the zipper off all the way – a single, simple motion, consequences be damned. And when I did, her engorged abs also dominated my view. Then I heard the arm and leg sleeves start ripping all on their own. Here we go again. Promptly I leapt into Knari’s cleavage, figuring it would be safer in there than on her hand.

I was right: the moment I was snugly between Knari’s boulder-sized boulders, Rainbow Dash’s flightsuit finally gave up the ghost, and all twenty feet and three tons of her were finally flung out in the open. It’s an act I’ve seen before several times, but it never got old for me – partly because every time she did it, she was even bigger than last time. I savored the moment, from the safety and comfort from Knari’s breastcrack.

And then came the real surprise: Rainbow Dash has blown up even larger than even Knari. She showed off for me: flexing one arm, then the other, then turning and showing off her back, including her now-useless wings. “Like wha’cha see, squirt?” she asked. “Believe me, I’m just getting started to really grow. . . .”

I couldn’t fathom how that was the case, but it did sound like a promise.

But Vardi returned at that moment. “Where is he?” she called out. “I must have him now.”

“He’s right here!” Knari answered, plucking me from my hiding spot and setting me down in the middle of the pile. Strange. . . she’s not usually this obedient with Vardi. Aren’t they broodsisters, or is there something I’m missing?

Vardi’s voice soon lost its edge with me, turning back to that sweetness I’ve come to like. “So, my precious little thing. . . shall we get started? Or have you already blown your load into somepony else?”

Somehow, despite their best efforts to seduce me, despite how solid I was below my waist, I hadn’t.

And she could tell. “Then it all belongs to me,” she purred. “Just what Mommy was hoping for.” Promptly she shoved me onto my back, with my cock now standing fully at attention, ready to impale her.

As eager as she seemed to get it on, at the same time she knew to take her time with it. Slowly, with one hand, she undid the knot that held up the sarong, letting it drop off of her hips. But instead of doing the same with her thong, she took in a good dose of ambient love and simply outgrew the rest of her outfit – hips widening, cheeks plumping up, breasts swelling, until one by one every strap snapped off.

If I wasn’t hard before, I definitely was now.

“Yes, perfect. . . .” She knelt down on top of me, guiding my cock into her well-greased slit. As soon as I felt it went in, I nearly lost myself in its velvety-soft texture, its mounting tightness, its impossible heat – and that was bound to produce a lot of love for the Hive.

She, of course, took the lion’s share, and started swelling up even more. I watched as her lower legs stretched from my hooves up to my head, but not stop there. “G-good start,” I stammered out, no longer out of shyness, but merely from strain.

“‘Good start’?” she echoed. “Oh, you. Such a greedy, needy little colt, always wanting more.” Her growth redoubled, and she could only surge both upwards and outwards. “More mares, more size, more growth, just more and more and oh so much more. . . .”

Yes. She knew me so well. Whenever I get blinded by my haze of lust, I stop seeing faces and only see sizes. More mares. Bigger mares. More bigger mares.

“You love this,” Vardi teased me. “You love being pampered and coddled and spoiled like a little foal. You love it when we do everything for you, give you anything you want, feed you, cuddle you, and of course letting you love us all over.” Under her breath, she tittered. “And we can’t get enough of the stuff, can we? You should see the rest of the Hive.”

I had. Ever since I started supplying them with all the love they could handle, their larders were overwhelmed, simply unable to keep up with me. Consequently, changelings of every caste had started taking on the excess for themselves, and naturally they started growing. Just a month ago, their smallest Worker dwarfed their largest Queensguard from before I started – and they hadn’t stopped growing since.

I wondered if Queen Chrysalis had some dragon blood in her veins.

“Getting greedy?” she asked. “You want more?” The unspoken cue prompted other harem members to surround me – Spitfire underneath me, her squishy-soft fat boosting me up so I could still reach Vardi’s snatch; Celestia and Luna to my left and right, slipping me into their titmeat, my hands finding their way to their rumps.

While Vardi’s breasts were far larger, Celestia’s and Luna’s were right within reach, and had already started leaking. “Prithee,” Luna spoke, “partake in Our sweet Milk; for it shall grant you all the Vim you need.”

“And mine as well,” Celestia added.

It was tempting, but I had to stay focused.

“So easy to get you started,” Vardi commented, her voice deepening the more she grew. “‘Grow.’ ‘Bigger.’ ‘Fatter.’ ‘Taller.’ ‘Wider.’ ‘Stronger.’ ‘More.’ We can get you horny with mere words.” And indeed, with each word she said, I grew closer to my climax, and she in turn grew. . . well, just grew!

But it wasn’t enough for her. “Look at me – I’m so small! I need to be bigger, don’t you see? I need to grow, grow, grow. . . . Won’t you let me grow?” she pleaded. “Pleeease?”

I gave her all I could manage, but even so – “C’mon. . . feed me. I want to grow. I want to be bigger. I want bigger tits, a bigger ass, a bigger everything. I want to be fatter, to be stronger, to be more. And I know you want this too. Now give me your love!”

As she spoke, various images filled my head: more mares in my harem, all of them bulging bigger and bigger, taller and taller, with wider hips, fatter booties, bigger milkers, and stronger muscles, getting fatter and fatter all over as they grow, blimp, swell, bulge, and finally outgrow the hive, growing and growing and never stopping, just bigger bigger bigger –

Then I noticed dust falling from the ceiling. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” she said. “I’ve outgrown my clothes – but now? I want to outgrow this chamber, outgrow the Hive – just feed and grow and feed and grow until I. Outgrow. The planet.”

That did it. Surrounded by warm, cushy bulk, I finally let myself loose inside Vardi, and we both lost ourselves in ecstasy – her more than me: the massive burst of love-turned-lust propelled her to occupy almost the full volume of the chamber, before her head burst through the ceiling into her Queen’s throne chamber, and finally she lost her grip on her disguise –

Wait.

This wasn’t Vardi at all.

I had just creamed inside Queen Chrysalis.

Fear – real, genuine fear – ran down my spine like ice water, quickly sobered me from my haze and quelled the sweltering heat surrounding me. Sensing this, Celestia and Luna buried me deeper within themselves, as if they could shield me from their own Queen.

“Ahhh. . . .” Chrysalis’s tongue hung from her mouth as she caught her breath. Then she looked down at me. “Nothing personal, my dear consort,” she cooed, in a voice so deep and booming I could barely discern it. “I simply had to get it straight from the source this time. Vardi is away with. . . other matters, shall we say – but mark my words, you will see her again in due time.”

She smiled. “Oh, by the way?” She patted her stomach. “Thanks for that next brood, Daddy.”

Author's Note

Oh right, story notes. Click here for those.

Prologue

symbiosis | sɪm.baɪ̯ˈoʊ̯.sɪs | noun, biology
A relationship of mutual benefit, especially among different species.

Days and weeks of constant rumbling, clacking, and thumping eventually blended into one another for me. I typed out another short line – comparative degree of many: in greater number – or at least, that’s what I thought I typed. As soon as I yanked the lever to spit the slug out of the Wondertype, Lorem quickly scanned the slug for any mistakes.

He, of course, found one. “Extra E in degree,” he told me. He held it up for me – even I knew it wasn’t spelled degreee.

I groaned. “My bad.” I started retyping the line, this time paying attention to the number of times I pressed the e key. Out of my sight, I heard the old slug being tossed in the discard bin, to be melted down and the metal reused the following day.

Usually I wouldn’t be this egregious, not with my years of experience, but in my defense, I was getting very worn-down. But I knew I couldn’t complain, because one look from behind the Wondertype machine at which I sat told me that my colleagues were just as weary as I was.

My brother, Lorem Ipsum, had bloodshot eyes trying to catch every single typo before it went into the press. Speaking of the press, Foolscap Folio, my big brute of a partner who actually printed the type onto paper, even seemed exhausted running thousands of signatures in a day. And my apprentice, Minion Fleuron, seemed a bit more joyless than usual, frantically sifting through cases of ornamental type – though, bless her heart, she still had the vim to be concerned about me.

“Wasn’t that the seventh time you mistyped that?” she asked me.

Embarrassingly, it was. And I knew I couldn’t be this sloppy, not when it cost us that much time. Sure, discarding and retyping a line took a few seconds, but we were feeling the crunch of a particularly-important deadline looming over us. Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Friendship, had commissioned my little print shop in Ponyville to print a new dictionary – an extremely large one, covering not just every word of our considerable lexicon, but include also their etymologies from our language to Gryphish, Dragontongue, Old Ponish, and even the more exotic sources like Yakut and Middle Hippogryph. It was also supposed to contain a basic grammar guide, weights and measures, maps of Equestria, and other little niceties that made it more like a general reference book than a mere dictionary.

Oh, and she wanted it completed as soon as possible. Perhaps she was compensating for something? Or perhaps she found every other dictionary lacking in some way – which, I suppose, explained such specific and elaborate requirements on her part.

We’ve typeset books before, books of every genre you can imagine – but a dictionary was a genuine trial for us. I first made sure to give the Wondertype a once-over, as a single breakdown would threaten to put us behind schedule; Foolscap oiled the press every morning so it would operate smoothly; Minion got here early each morning to set up the Wondertype for me so I wouldn’t waste any time doing it myself; and I even had to call Lorem in from Canterlot to help us pull it off. (Usually, reading Wondertype slugs is Minion’s job, in addition to setting type decoration manually.)

“Uh, Etaoin? You okay, bro?” I felt someone nudging on my left shoulder. I turned and saw my brother looking down on me. “You zoned out again, dude. Time for a break?”

I read the room, but my eyes only landed on the calendar. We were only halfway done – I was typesetting one definition for more – and we only had just under a month left. “Much as I’d love to,” I told him, “I’m afraid I can’t spare that much time.”

“Then maybe it’s time you let Minion on the Wondertype.” He gestured to the lone mare in the shop. “I know you couldn’t exactly overhear, but she’s itching to pound out a few signatures herself, especially since you can’t quite keep up.”

I sighed. It was something I’ve been trying to deny to myself just so I can get it ready in time, but I suppose push came to shove at that moment. “Alright Minion, you can have a go at it.”

As soon as I got up, I felt Minion’s legs slip right under me as she promptly occupied my spot. “Thank you, Sir!” As I watched, she started hitting out slug after slug, and if Lorem was to be believed, she wasn’t making one mistake either. On one hand, I was proud of her for finally blossoming into a proper typesetter like myself, but on the other – I now felt useless. Outmoded.

“Hey now.” Lorem looked up from the last slug. “I know that look on your face. You’re worn out, but you don’t like to admit it.” Doffing his reading glasses, he motioned for Minion to pause. “You’ve always pushed yourself to get the job done as soon as possible, but you’re not a machine, Etaoin. You should stop for the day, really.”

“But that would mean – ”

“Not time wasted.” With a hand on my shoulder, he started leading me to the door. “Even an axe needs to be sharpened.” Then he got that look on his face as if something struck him. “Say,” he asked, “doesn’t Ponyville have a spa in town?”

“It does,” I answered, “but – ”

“Then it’s settled.” He pushed me through the doorway. “Go have a day there. You’ve certainly earned it. We can handle the deadline just fine, please don’t worry about us.”

I will admit this wasn’t the first time he’d suggested something like this. I always have a habit of pushing myself too hard and burning out early. What? I don’t want to come off as lazy! I pride myself on getting things done on time! But it seems my brother was right this time. After retyping the seven line seven times, maybe this job was finally getting the better of me. “Alright Lorem,” I finally conceded, “you have the shop.”

He nodded. “I knew you’d come around eventually. Have a good one!”

As I undid my own apron, I started hearing a slow but steady thumping, and I knew Foolscap was working the press on another batch of signatures. In truth, I was glad to leave, because that thumping was bound to distract me, make me make more typos, and force us all further behind schedule.

⁂

Ponyville in late spring always seems relatively calm, especially at this time of day, after the lunch rush. I knew my way to the Spa, but I didn’t usually head there – the last time I did, the steam room had a leaky pipe, and them laundering towels to tide us over only made the problem worse.

I swatted a fly out of my face, and rounded another corner. I figured I may as well take the path of least resistance to the Spa, and that meant cutting through the park. I stuffed my hands in my pockets and trudged forward. Already the fresh spring air seemed to jolt me awake, in a way working at the Wondertype never could.

Ah, I’m just waxing poëtic here, aren’t I?

Along the way I saw several other residents of Ponyville, and a few visitors. We’ve been seeing more and more of them in recent years, from further and further away – no doubt with Princess Twilight Sparkle and the other Elements of Harmony being the big draw – but many of them I had met over the years. Just by letting my eyes drift, I spotted Lyra Heartstrings reclined across a park bench, soaking up the afternoon sun. Octavia Melody and Vinyl Scratch were chatting about the latest in music trends, both classical and modern – the former lived in Canterlot, but regularly came to Ponyville to visit her marefriend, to the point where we thought of her as a resident.

Then there was Roseluck. I found her working on the park’s landscaping – a rare sight to see her outside of her flower shop. I would have waved to her, but I knew she was a bit skittish even around other Ponyville residents. Even so, seeing her happily working always put a smile on my face.

Besides, she couldn’t have seen me wave anyway. She was facing away from me, tending to a flowerbed, on her hands and knees, the waist of her jeans tugged down somewhat with thong straps peeking out around her hips and between her cheeks –

Out of nowhere, I sneezed.

Naturally, she looked up and saw me. I (hopefully) looked away just in time. “Out of the print shop for once, I see,” she commented.

Huh, that’s a first for her. “My brother kicked me out,” I said. “Said I was working myself too hard. I’m heading to the Spa – ” Ooh, here’s an idea! – “if you’d like to join me.” Please say ‘yes’ please say ‘yes’ please say ‘yes’. . . .

“Sorry, not today.” She gestured to several shrubs. “Much as I’d love to, I’m afraid Mayor Mare wants me to fill in for Cloud Tree today. Sick day, apparently.” She wiped some sweat off her brow. “So. . . maybe another time?”

“Yeah. . . maybe.” Better luck next time, I guess. “See you then.” I turned and left her, lest I drag it out any further than it needed to be.

Thankfully the Ponyville Day Spa was just up ahead from there. It didn’t seem particularly busy at the moment, so naturally one of the Spa Twins – Aloe, in this case – looked up from the front desk when I opened the door. (I suppose the tinkling of the bell helped her.) “Ah, hello Etaoin!” she greeted. “Back again, I see? It has been a while.”

“You could say that.” I sighed. “It’s been a rough time at the shop for me; I’ve noticed I’m starting to mix up my lines a lot today.” I stretched, arching my back. “Don’t suppose you know a thing or two to fix that? I’d rather not fall behind schedule.”

“You certainly looked tired yourself.” She smiled. “Don’t you worry, we know how to fix all of that.” She gestured to some curtains on the right. “Just step inside one of the changing rooms. We’ll see you in the bathhouse first.”

A brief stay in a hot, steamy room was not exactly what I was looking forward to hot out the shop, but at least I wouldn’t have any stuffy clothes to trap the heat in. As I was undoing my pants, I thought I heard a puff of something down the hall. Was that the steam pipes? No, I determined, it wouldn’t just stop randomly. I let my pants drop onto the floor and continued undressing. I reëmerged a minute later, towel around my waist for modesty, my usual clothes folded up and stowed in a locker. The bathhouse wasn’t hard to find – down the hall, on the right, basically just follow the steam pipes.

I mean, sure, I could have used the signs, but I never could stand the pretentious lettering on those.

I opened the door and stepped inside, shutting it behind me to keep the steam inside. It was dark here – good for resting my eyes for a moment – not to mention very damp and pleasantly warm. It penetrated the burning in my muscles, yet it soothed me at the same time. I took a seat on one of the wooden benches along the far wall, not really paying attention to whom else might be in here with me.

In a moment I regretted my choice. Sliding up to my left was this wall of flesh, black and thick and warmer than the rest of my surroundings. I looked up and my heart sank – I was looking straight into the eyes of Queen Chrysalis, ruler of the Changeling Hive. Unlike myself, she was clad in a very-ill-fitting bikini that looked ready to snap off without warning, and her eyes held a very hungry gaze. I immediately looked to the bathhouse’s exit, but a green glow on the door clicked the lock shut, ensuring I was well and truly trapped in here with her.

Sliding up to my left, in the meantime, was another changeling, just as large and engorged with love as her Queen, but wrapped in a towel across her chest and hips. She too looked down upon me, with much the same gaze as Chrysalis did. “Hey there,” she purred in a seductive voice – appropriate for her, but it only made my fears set in further. “What’s your name, handsome?”

“. . . E-Etaoin Shrdlu,” I eventually stammered out. That probably wasn’t a good idea, I immediately thought. They have my name, now it’s just a matter of time before –

The other changeling smiled. “Right, one of the printers in town,” she reckoned. “You can call me Vardi – and I trust my companion here needs no introduction of her own.”

“So. . . .” Chrysalis traced her finger across my chest. “You’ve seen how empty this bathhouse is. What exactly made you go out of your way to sit with us?”

“Well, I. . . .” Of course I knew why, and I suspected they knew as well. But I just wasn’t willing to admit it. Why should I? It’s embarrassing! How do I get myself out of this question? “I really can’t say.” Weaksauce, but it’s better than nothing. Probably.

“I could probably guess,” Vardi offered. “Simple curiosity? After all, we changelings are a little hard to find ‘in the wild,’ so to say.”

“Erm, yeah. I guess you could say that.” I tried getting up, to put some space between myself and these two. Maybe I really should’ve sat on the other side after all.

“Still afraid of us, even after that failed invasion?” Chrysalis’s horn flared green. “No, that’s not it. Curiosity, yes, you were on the right path, Vardi.” She nodded. “But there’s something more to it, something. . . shameful. And longing as well.” Wait, is she seriously reading my mind!? I quickly bolted from the bench. The changeling queen kept her gaze on me the whole time. “Oh, now you’re panicking. What’s the matter, dear? You clearly didn’t have any shame when you sat down with us. Why the change?”

This time I truly was at a loss for words – not even a squeak from my throat. She’s got me dead for rights. What does she have in store for me?

She giggled. “It’s quite alright, we don’t mind in the least.” She patted the spot between them. “Come back over here.”

Reluctantly, I slid himself back onto the bench, and suddenly felt myself get sandwiched between the two changelings. Against my better judgment, I will admit that I couldn’t help noting just how squishy and soft their bodies felt against mine.

“It’s some part about us, isn’t it?” Vardi mused. “Maybe. . . it’s the way we can change our appearance on a whim?” Green flames flared up from beneath her. So that’s what I heard in the changing stall! In a moment, in her place sat Applejack, who winked at me with her tongue stuck out. Another flash of green, and Vardi returned into view, with the exact same facial expression.

I ran my arm across my side to make sure she didn’t burn me. To my surprise, my skin wasn’t even singed – neither were the wood planks on the bench, for that matter.

But she wasn’t done. “Maybe it’s the way we look naturally?” She ran her hands across her pit-riddled arms. “Once upon a time, you could see all the way through our limbs. But with so much love in Equestria, we couldn’t help but fill them in.”

“Or – and hear me out on this – ” Chrysalis seized her breasts in her hands, giving them a firm squeeze and a jiggle – “you saw these big, fat, heaving tits and decided you just had to get closer to them.”

That did it – that got a strong reaction out of me. I could feel my cheeks flush red, and I promptly pointed my gaze down on the floor – it didn’t help that Chrysalis was shaking her ‘big, fat, heaving tits’ right in my face. Shit, they know, they know, this is bad, this is –

“Aha, there it is.” I could hear the smile in her voice. “You just like what you see, don’t you, sweetie?” She put an arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer into her massive rack. Her tail did the same, cradling my hips against hers. “You like how pillow-soft and warm they are. You like how they jiggle about just so. And if you put your ear up to them?” Her voice dropped to a whisper, and she leaned into my ear. “You might even hear milk sloshing around inside, begging to be let out.”

Even if she didn’t realize it, and I had good cause to believe she did, Chrysalis was pushing every single one of my buttons. I was always enamored by larger mares, even when I was a young colt. Just the way they towered over me should make me afraid, but their softer features had the opposite effect on me: I felt safe being around them. Safe, warm, and snug against their. . . shall I say, plushness, like a teddy bear, only much larger than me and able to talk back.

And when I hit puberty, as everypony eventually does, my body was being flooded with more hormones than I knew what to do with them. At the same time, I watched all my filly friends start growing and developing into mares – large breasts, wide hips, thick thighs, well-cushioned rears – more and more their bodies were optimized for foalbearing. Not to mention they also grew to be taller than me at the onset. But that last bit was not to last – eventually I outgrew them in turn.

Still, it didn’t stop me from fantasizing about what life would be like for me if that never happened. That, in turn, got the gears turning in my head. What if they never stopped growing and developing? What if they had boobs bigger than their heads? Hips wider than their shoulders, with thighs and butts to match? Alas, I was far too shy to act on these impulses; I felt too embarrassed even to admit it to anypony – so naturally, I kept that secret under lock and key. I was grateful that I had gotten my cutie mark in typesetting – having to focus on using a Wondertype machine somehow worked to help me beat down those base urges of mine.

“And if I may add?” Vardi’s voive pulled me out of my reverie. The queen nodded to her companion. “We changelings subsist entirely on love. That’s not a rumor, either. And your love hits the spot just right. . . mmmh.”

As she spoke, she leaned into me, giving me an eyeful of her bountiful cleavage. And as she leaned in, I couldn’t help but notice that valley of cleavage getting longer and longer, almost as if – ! No. No way!

“Yep.” Vardi winked. “We’re feeding off of you right now. And all that love has to go somewhere. . . so why not put it someplace you’d love?” She pressed her enlarging chest into mine, squishing it to jut her cleavage further out of her towel. “We can keep growing, and growing, and growing. We can grow as big as you’d like. And all you have to do is keep loving us.”

“And that’s not very hard to do, isn’t it?” Chrysalis shifted me around, so I was facing Vardi and could nestle back into her cleavage – which now seemed much deeper than before. Didn’t her bikini top cover her entire areola at one point? “No need to hide it anymore, sweetie,” she purred into my ear. “You love big, growing mares. You love how much bigger we are than you. And if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re actually enjoying us coaxing you out of your shell, indulging you in your repressed fetishes, maybe even showing you a few you didn’t know you even wanted.” She leaned forward towards his ear. “And that’s okay.”

“Looks like we’re not the only ones growing here.”

I looked down. My penis, which had started hardening somewhat when I first entered the bathhouse, was now rising up to point at Vardi through my towel. Reflexively, my hands darted to push it down, and I pressed my thighs together to keep it out of sight. “S-sorry, sorry!” Skies above, why did this have to be so shameful? . . .

“Aw, don’t beat yourself up.” Chrysalis kissed me atop my head, sending a shiver down my spine. “Like I said, we don’t mind at all. In fact, we like swelling up ourselves, smothering our prey in plush, warm curves, rewarding them for feeding us so much love.” She ran her hands up and down along the sides of my torso.

“After all,” Vardi added, “you want to put your hands all over us, don’t you? Feel them sink into our supple flesh, only to get pushed back as we swell up even bigger than before?”

At this I dared to take my hand away from my crotch – but didn’t move my thighs – just so I could feel her lap, her much softer, broader lap. Come to think of it, Vardi’s posture also seems a little higher than before. . . .

“Oh yes,” she purred. “We can make any part of ourselves grow. We can be tall enough to hit our heads on the ceiling. We can have thighs thicker around than your torso. We can have hips wider than you are tall. We can have booties so fat you can ride around between the cheeks, swaying to and fro as we walk.” As she spoke, she kept swelling up bigger and bigger, eagerly taking on more and more of my lust. Beneath her, I could hear the wooden planks creaking, taking on more and more of her increasing weight. “Or maybe something else? We don’t judge.”

I wasn’t sure if I should be frightened or excited at the fact that they were completely right. I did want these things; I did want to be squished up safe and sound against a growing mare; it made me feel so safe and warm and loved. Curse you, puberty, for making me grow like a weed! I don’t want to be big and strong all the time, you see.

A shame, then, that mares built the way I like are few and far between.

But here? Now? I could actually be honest with them. Changelings are many things, and can become many more, but close-minded is certainly not one of them. After all, since they fed on love, as Vardi pointed out, they could shape themselves precisely to get as much as possible out of someone. I must concede I’m all too perfect for them – they could take my love, pack it onto themselves, and create a feedback loop of love and bulk, potentially ad infinitum.

“Careful, dude.” Vardi reached her arms up and back, projecting her swelling mammaries forward into my crotch. “If you keep feeding me so much, I’m only going to outgrow this flimsy little towel.” Even I could sense the fabric straining against her increasing bulk.

That only made my own swelling worse – right now, my unmentionables were paining me from being sealed away between my legs. I looked up and saw that she was right – the towel was now stretched tightly against her curves, and raised up enough that I could see she was going commando underneath. Probably, if I had to guess, because she had to improvise with something in the Spa.

A loud snap! behind me alerted me to the fact that Chrysalis’s bikini top finally gave up the ghost. A moment later, a more muted snap told me that her bottoms did the same. As much as I wanted to look behind myself, as tantalizing as the thought of looking upon the nude Queen was. . . something still held me back.

Meanwhile, Vardi’s towel started ripping – starting at the bottom of her bust. “Your Majesty,” she asked, “are you thinking what I’m thinking?” She grabbed her tits and gave them a playful shake for me, and this time I couldn’t take my eyes off. How could I? They were positively enormous, the absolute largest I had ever laid eyes on, and to think they weren’t even done growing yet. . . !

“I’m sure our guest is up to the occasion,” she replied. “Aren’t you?” A green shimmer descended upon my waist, and in an instant my towel was undone. Then her hands moved down to my thighs, parting them just enough to make. . . well, it spring back out into the open air. “What do you say – ever fucked a pair of tits bigger than your own head?”

This was it. This was the exact moment I’ve been dreaming about for years – and even if the settings and characters didn’t quite line up with my fantasies, I would be a fool to turn down such a generous offer. I leaned up just enough to catch sight of her breasts, still swelling up ever-larger, still straining against that towel. “C-can I?” I asked, my own voice betraying my nerves. Slowly, still with a tremor, I reached my hand out to Vardi.

And in that moment, the worst possible thing that could happen happened: somepony knocked on the bathhouse door. “Etaoin? Are you stuck inside?” I recognized Aloe’s voice; she must’ve noticed me take a little too long in the steam. “The door seems to be locked.”

As soon as I heard keys jingling, we three exchanged glances. Unspoken, we swiftly rushed to cover our tracks. I redonned my towel. Behind me, two green flashes ensured the two changelings were no longer inside – or at least in sight. I sat down, crossing my legs to hide my erection. “Oh, uh, sorry,” I feigned, “lost track of time in here!” Which, all things considered, isn’t entirely untrue. . . .

The lock’s bolt moved, and the door opened. Aloe’s pink head poked inside. “I hope you’re ready for the next part of your treatment,” she said. “The massage room is this way, Mr. Shrdlu. . . .”

Author's Note

So here it is: my first clopfic in about seven years.

Published today for my twenty-sixth birthday. Chapter updates will occur daily until complete; story notes will be published in parallel with the final chapter.

I realize something like this isn't everyone's cup of tea, so just downvote it (and unfollow me, if applicable) and get on with your life if that makes you feel any better. If, on the other hand, you're just now following me for more of this, it's not becoming a regular thing -- so please don't bother.

One of these days, I'll come to regret writing this. I'm sure of it.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be distracting myself with Atomic Heart.