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

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