A Conspiracy of Order

Nurse Redheart was in and out of consciousness for the next twelve hours. The drugged goo in her ass was just the start of the treatment that she underwent, and while she was unconscious for the majority of the ‘treatment,’ she was aware enough of her body to know that things were being done to her, and that there were after-effects, ripples and shocks that were going to leave a mark on her that would take a long time to fade, if they ever would. The nurse couldn’t help but track what happened to her, ranging from the gaping feeling under her tail to the intense shocks that made her muscles ache from head to hoof, and more beyond.

But, of course, as she was aware of those, she was also aware of what was happening to her…when the drugging was less severe, at least, and when she was able to surface to something resembling consciousness for more than a second before she was drugged again.

In and out.

Awake and asleep.

Conscious and unconscious.

And always, always, always impaled.

The white-furred mare stared straight ahead the whole time, her mouth either hanging open, filled with a tube, or pressed to some shaft or vagina to receive something else, something sweet, clear, and impossible. Her scattered thoughts told her that such a flow should be bitter, acrid, but it never was. If anything, it was berry-sweet, and it made it hard not to suck it down with eagerness and happiness.

Further.

Further.

Further down.

Hours passed, though she was only aware of that by the occasional glimpse of candles and magical lights in the basement. Here, there, she couldn’t help but notice that sometimes they burned out, went dark, and had to be brought back to life. Or more, replaced, made better again. Time, minutes, hours, it went by faster than it should –

And through it all, she was shocked. Shocked, teased, turned on. Her body burned worse than it did when she was in season, when the urge to breed was upon her, and yet, she didn’t do anything about it. Instead, she just…

“Mmmm…”

Moans. Moans were the only things that passed her lips while she was that out of it, while the thing was in her, under her tail, impaling her and keeping it high. Her eyes, hazy, her thoughts, scrambled, and her voice –

“Mmmph…”

Another trickle of thick, heavy fluids rolled out of her, dribbling down her hind legs for the most part, save for a bit that trickled down and hung like suspended slime from her sex. Her holes quivered, twitched, clenched, wanting something more inside of them, but her conscious mind didn’t know what.

Cock?

Cum?

It didn’t seem to matter. Just something. Something like the tendril that was buried so far up her ass…something that would give her more…something that would stretch her further…something that would keep her cumming.

Another shock, and she came again. Another shock after that, and she stopped thinking once more.

When the tendril finally started sliding free rather than pushing deeper, Nurse Redheart was a changed mare. She could feel something more in her, something that stuck to her mind with a greater grasp than the various oaths that she’d taken as a nurse and healer. It went deeper than that, demanding more of her, and it all came down to the same core concept.

Serve the Nest.

That was all she had to do. Serve the Nest. That would give her satisfaction. Serve the Nest. That would give her safety. Serve the Nest. That would give her everything.

Nurse Redheart bowed her head, lifting her tail that much higher as she felt movement behind her. It was the Nest moving, and her programming, her stuffed-up head, told her what was coming. It was her moment of completion. Her moment of becoming part of the Nest. It was…it was time…

From the moment that the open root with all the wiggling worms inside touched her rim, she knew that Nurse Redheart was no longer her name. She was Redheart-Drone, the mare-host that would be the tender, carer, and spreader of more of the worms whenever she could. The knowledge of Ponyville General and the various doctors there had already been pulled from her skull, and she was all but sure that the Nest would use that to spread its reach into those that cared for the sick.

When the experiment was done, of course.

When they knew more.

When it was safe.

The wiggling tip of the worm found her hole, and she arched her back that much higher, more eager to be of service. Her tail ached at the base from just how high she forced it, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was giving the Nest what it needed: another host, one that knew what it was doing, one that could be useful.

Stretch.

Stretch.

The first tap of the worm’s head rewarded her with a pre-programmed burst of pleasure, one that rippled up and down her spine, one that told her that the Nest was happy with her for doing what she was supposed to do. Satisfied, rather, not happy. The Nest did not have those emotions. It was either pleased with her, or displeased, and one should always aim for the former.

She felt the tip of the worm wiggling side to side, stroking her pucker like an examining finger, teasing it, flicking slime across the more wrinkled of the two holes. Touch, tease, flick, then back to the center of the clenched muscle, trying to push in. She tried to relax against it, to open herself up, and –

Another pony would have gasped as it slid in. Not a drone, not a true host. The most that happened was a little exhalation, and not even a rapid one. Just a little wheeze of satisfaction, pushing out slowly like someone that had just popped a stiff joint or something of the sort. She let it push in further, further, her inner walls already clenching down, pulling in, milking at the worm as if it was just one more examination probe that she had learned to use and take during her internship.

Deeper.

Deeper.

Deeper.

Her sense of satisfaction grew stronger and stronger as it fell further into her hole, the weight of the worm oddly satisfying against her rim as it went further inside of her, almost like it was trying to keep her open. If it wished her to stay loose, she would find a way to make that happen, and if it wanted her tight –

It ‘bit’ at her, painlessly, but with a deep sense of connection. Something took root inside of her anal walls, pushing deeper into her, threading through her tissue. It was like a painless stitching, melding her and the creature together. It felt around, pushing further, some fronds going up towards her spine, while others went further down, knitting through her inner walls to those sensitive nerve clusters in the other hole.

She knew what was coming before it hit her, but it still hit her harder than she expected. Redheart-Drone arched her back, feeling the sudden burst of pleasure that came from it manipulating the nerves of her g-spot, sending happy feedback through her system and making her drip further.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

More and more of her concentrated fluids ran down her hind legs, adding to the puddle between her hooves. It was all…it was all…

There was less thought, now, less focus as the parasite started melding with her properly. The muscles along her upper legs and the feeling of tension in her stomach was lessening, but the feeling of the parasite in her head was getting that much more prominent. It was a stuffy feeling inside of her skull, almost like a cold that didn’t want to go away, and she groaned as she rolled her head from one side to the other, trying to force her way through it until her head stopped moving as she demanded.

Then again…was there a reason for it to move without the parasite’s demand?

No, no, there wasn’t.

She felt herself walked forward, and she turned around slowly, her body moving to face the Nest again. She could feel the tension that came with the parasite’s new control, the thing inside of her testing itself, learning how to use her body with minimal stress and energy. She was entirely aware of her body in a way that she had never been aware of it before, since someone else was controlling it and taking charge.

It was intense, to say the least, and particularly as it started moving in ways that she didn’t move herself. The parasite corrected quickly, reading her thoughts, taking part of her, learning from her, but –

Oh, it was strange.

And the strangeness was the Nest.

And the Nest was good.

The discomfort, the oddness, everything faded, leaving her with nothing but satisfaction as the Nest’s programming asserted itself in her. There was nothing to worry about. Anything that was done with her body was done for the good of the Nest, and as any good drone would, Redheart-Drone would prize the safety of the Nest above all.

That was settled quickly, leaving her watching as Twilight-Drone remained embedded for a few moments longer. There had been a sense of other ponies around while she was being programmed, changed, made into something different. She’d felt the consciousness of someone else, a different life and mind brushing against hers while she had been in the process of being downloaded into the Nest. And more than that, she’d been informed – if only sideways and only through a mix of vague information and, now, the parasite – what had happened while she was being programmed.

The Nest was not happy with Twilight-Drone, and it was not happy with Westin-Drone, either. The situation that had led up to her infestation had been dangerous, risky, and they were being reconditioned while also being disciplined. The pair of older hosts had been left in contact with the Nest for far longer than they would normally have been, used as an enhancer for the Nest’s mind-break methods. The under-librarians had finished hours ago, but Twilight had remained connected for nearly an hour longer than needed.

It was no surprise that the other host took a moment to find her hooves when she finally disconnected. Her lower body was a mess, stained from hoof to tail, and her belly was matted and drenched. She utterly stank of vaginal juices and the thick, musky scent of sex.

The parasites were not entirely keen on the scent of sex, but there was an advantage to the richness of those pheromones. They had learned that it drew in the other, non-infested ponies to a much greater degree, as long as it wasn’t omnipresent. The more biological they were, the more interest that they could get.

So, it wasn’t entirely a detriment, as long as they remembered to clean, at least from time to time.

Redheart-Drone waited for Twilight-Drone to awaken again, the parasite and host stumbling forward. They came to a halt for a moment, leaned one way and then the other. Their eyes focused, unfocused, and focused again.

Overload, the parasite in her knew. They had been attached to the Nest for long enough that their body would take some time to recover, a few hours before they were up to full capacity once more. A pity, but it was necessary for them to learn, and it was a chance for them to make up for their mistakes with the other hosts.

A twinge tugged at the edge of Redheart-Drone’s mind, and the parasite made her speak.

“Have you read anything good about nesting habits lately?” Redheart-Drone asked.

“Hmm? Oh, yes. I love L. B. Tree’s books on the subject,” Twilight-Drone responded.

The simple statements came with an understanding. It was not much better than the call and response of genitals that the Nest had given the stallions, but it was a start to the call and response that they’d need to find each other in the wild. One of many that they’d start using, but it meant that they could at least have a way to ask other ponies if they were infested without actually stating the question so bluntly.

They would have smiled, if they were without controllers. They did not smile.

Redheart-Drone knew her assignment. Kept away from the hospital for nearly a day, she needed to get back on-shift with a proper excuse. Twilight-Drone would do the same, coming with her to both advertise the experiments for later in the week, and to give her a reason for why she had been at the library for so long. They already had one developed by the Nest; they didn’t even have to come up with one.

The whole of the plan was slowly coming together, and with the implications of the Nest getting ready to grow in a different way, it was entirely possible that they would have a new, secondary base before long.

Big Mac didn’t know what Twilight Sparkle wanted from him as a security guard at the tree. As far as he knew, he and the other stallions were mostly just being used as glorified assistants more than anything else, focused on getting the hard labor done and making sure that nobody tried sneaking into the lab beneath the tree. The various experimental subjects that the alicorn had invited into the tree to be part of the experiment were all closed-mouthed about the whole thing, and he and the other stallions were being paid good bits to keep from being too nosy.

Not that he was all that curious, anyway, and after all the mischief that his sister got up to when she was younger, he knew how the foals and fillies could be when they got it into their heads to try something stupid. He knew that, by staying there, he could do good stuff, keep anyone from doing something stupid and getting hurt.

Didn’t have to be smart to help. Just had to be kind and strong.

And it came with some nice perks, too. Just the other day, one of the under-librarians – a green-yellow unicorn named Ivy Charm – had started talking with him. The fact that he was stuck helping out at the library all day rather than spending time back at the family farm meant that he didn’t get the chance to spend much time with others, and the walk to and from Sweet Apple Acres every morning got a little lonesome. When he mentioned that, Ivy Charm had volunteered to meet him at the farm every morning, and walk back with him every evening.

“More fun that way,” she’d said, and more fun it had been.

It wasn’t that she talked a lot - or at least, not when he saw her - because if she did, that would have made Big Mac more than a little uncomfortable. He wasn’t a stallion of many words, and he preferred to keep his mouth shut and just work when he could. Presence was better than conversation, and Ivy Charm seemed to get that.

She didn’t talk, or at least, not much. When she did, it was more of a ‘look’ or a ‘hey’ or something small like that. When she offered him a snack or a drink, it was just with a ‘snack?’ or ‘drink?’, not a whole convoluted sentence about whether he wanted one or not.

He appreciated that.

And he appreciated her.

It didn’t take long, though, before he started to look forward to their walks for another reason. The first day, she’d offered him some new berry juice, something slick and sweet in a way that he wasn’t used to finding. She never told him what it was, just saying that it was her secret recipe, but he always enjoyed it when she offered him some.

What had been a simple taste the first day turned into a full bottle on the second, and by the third, he was tapping his hoof outside the library waiting for her to come out for the walk home. Not even for her company or for the desire to get back to farm, but purely out of the desire for another drink of her special blend.

“Mmmm…”

Big Mac didn’t know why he wanted it so much. The taste of the strange juice was great, but there was something more to it. When he was drinking it, and for some time afterward, he felt…floaty. Not quite out of it, not quite stupid – or at least, no stupider than he normally was – but better, like everything had just drifted off, like all the weight that he carried as a general rule just didn’t affect him anymore. It was a good feeling, and one that he wished that he could feel more often.

Click.

He looked over his shoulder as the green-furred, yellow-horned unicorn stepped out of the library. She had a smile on her face already, and her horn glowed, levitating the bottle out of her saddlebag.

“Drink?” Ivy Charm asked.

“Yuuup.”

He tilted his head to the side, and she popped the tip of the bottle in. They shared another smile as they walked along, their hooves finding the road and leading them to the path that would take them out of Ponyville and towards the distant farm.

Big Mac, meanwhile, had already tilted his head back, taking in the first mouthful of his beverage. The first taste hit hard, and he bit back a moan as he swallowed it down. Ivy Charm chuckled at his side.

“Good?”

“Mmm.”

“Good.”

That would have been much more back and forth with other mares, but not with her. He was glad of that, because it let him really focus on the pleasure of the drink and how it made him feel.

He was already starting to feel floaty, like his hooves were no longer weighted to the ground, and as if his head was already starting to fly towards the clouds. It was good. No, it was great.

The drink kept sending warmth right down to his hooves, and then up again. He was warm, though not quite sweaty, and it felt like he was drinking liquid sunshine. He almost wondered, more than once, if this was some sort of fermented berry juice with how silly it sometimes made him feel, but he never quite felt drunk. It was more…light-hearted, not even quite a bit, and…

Well, it was also just a little awkward with how full it made his sheath feel.

It was something that he hadn’t noticed too much on the first day, but the second? Oh, the walk home had been a little awkward, as he started to shuffle his hind legs as his shaft kept trying to drop from his sheath, constantly trying to fall forward and show itself off with all the need burning in his system. He had managed to keep it inside until they got back to the barn, but that was a hard thing, and he doubted that he could do it today.

But as he took another drink, and then another, it was harder to understand why it mattered. Ivy Charm…

Ivy Charm seemed to like him, right? And she was the one that kept giving him the drink. Sure, it was a little bit improper for a big stallion like him to just drop and show off on a walk, but it wasn’t that bad…

Might even be natural…

Big Mac groaned as he felt the first little spasm through his groin, but he clenched down as much as he could. They were still in Ponyville –

Wait, no, they weren’t. He blinked, coming to an abrupt stop as he realized that they were already surrounded by the familiar trees that lined the road outside of the town. The red-furred stallion looked over his shoulder to see that the buildings of Ponyville were already a ten-minute walk behind him, fading into the distance slightly, and he blinked as he looked back at the road ahead.

“Problem?” Ivy Charm asked.

“…Nnnnope.”

He popped the bottle back into his muzzle, chiding himself for daydreaming. It was probably just his imagination.

As he sucked down more of the juice, though, his sheath became more and more sensitive, his shaft more eager to drop, the heat flowing through his veins harder and harder to ignore. Soon, it was dropping from his sheath without his permission, but Ivy Charm didn’t say anything. If anything, she gave him another one of those knowing smiles that unicorns were so good at, her mouth shut and his shame untouched.

On and on they walked, and the more that he drank, the more that he felt like he was walking on air. He stumbled here and there, but it didn’t bother him. And he didn’t feel…dumb, not the way that he did with cider. It was something subtler, something happier, something more…

More horny.

By the time that they reached the archway that marked Sweet Apple Acres’s entrance, he was almost dripping, his cock up and touching his belly. He was about to walk through when the bottle was popped from his muzzle by Ivy Charm’s magic, and he stopped, looking back at her.

She really was a lovely unicorn, one of those that looked like she could do whatever she wanted, take anything from anyone.

Take.

His cock jumped beneath his belly at the thought, and he groaned. A small blush appeared on his face, but even then, he was aware that it wasn’t the sort of blush that he would have had a few days ago. He wasn’t nearly as embarrassed as he probably should be at being exposed in front of one of the library workers, particularly one of those that he was supposed to see every day. She’d remember this, and she’d probably think of him like this tomorrow while they worked together.

“Sorry, ma’am,” he muttered.

“No worries.”

“Not my usual.”

“I know.”

“I, uh…”

“You just like it.”

“Heh.”

“Or maybe you like me?”

“…Maybe.”

“I think you mean…yuuup.”

He chuckled, his cheeks burning a little hotter as she walked past the archway. She trotted past him, flicking her tail to the side and nudging his cheek, then his neck. The scent of an aroused mare slapped him across the face, and the big stallion blinked.

“Wouldn’t mind a chance to ‘rest’, if you get my drift.”

“…”

“You mind?”

“Nope.”

“Barn?”

“Yuuuup.”

They walked together across the empty fields and orchard, making their way to the Apple family barn. Big Mac was almost completely sure that his sister was busy on another farm today, and it’d be one of those quickies, he was sure, something that’d be over and done soon enough.

They reached the big red building, and he opened the door. As Ivy Charm stepped past him, her tail flicked up high, and his throbbing cock twitched all the harder as he saw how wet she was. Her sex was glistening, almost slimy with just how turned on she was, and her juices were all but rolling down her legs. His eyes were caught by her winking sex, the little flicker of her clit, and he groaned under his breath.

As he followed her in, he was half-sure that there was something familiar about the scent of her, something almost sweet, but it was gone before he could think about it properly.

Twilight-Drone found herself busier than expected after the chastisement of the Nest. Until further drones were acquired, the host was serving as the main brain-battery for the processing that had to be done as well as running the various ‘experiments’ with altered foods, drinks, and other things that were passed out to the experimental subjects that she’d approved. The constant effort, seldom having downtime, and the regular migraines that followed were not doing the host any good, but the parasite and the host had agreed that they had earned this after screwing up as badly as they had.

Thankfully, the under-librarian that had suffered the damage from too-early infestation had mostly recovered. Her mind had been easy to replace with the cached personality and memories in the Nest, but that had been touch and go, and the body was still recovering. One leg would be stuck with a limp for the rest of the mare’s life, and she might never actually get hearing back in one ear.

All things said, it wasn’t the worst fate that one might face, but it was still more than they should risk for most of the hosts.

Regardless…

“If everyone could start filling out their response survey for their most recent plates?” the alicorn called out to the group of assembled ponies, ranging from six earth ponies to four pegasi and two unicorns. “I want to make sure that you do this while it’s still fresh in your minds.”

“Mmmph…”

“Nnngh…”

“So…weird…”

The reactions that they were having to the drugged goods were to be expected. While they’d had to be subtle about it – lacing various baked goods with varying amounts of seed, vaginal fluid, and urine during the course of the last week – the actual symptoms from consumption didn’t vary, merely the severity of them. Mental confusion, increased heart rate, raised temperature, and, of course, arousal: every pony ‘suffered’ at least a little from all four symptoms when they had their assigned ‘experimental’ dish.

It was a useful experiment, because it allowed the Nest, through Twilight-Drone, to do two things.

First, it allowed them to determine, with surety, which were the most effective means of delivering the drugged fluids that the hosts produced to a target, and just what it did. The urine, it turned out, started losing its effectiveness within three hours, becoming all but useless within twelve, and if it was diluted by more than a one-to-two ratio, then it was barely suitable for more than a gentle aphrodisiac buzz. Seed and vaginal fluids, however, had a longer shelf life, and would maintain their effectiveness for nearly twenty-four hours, and longer if they were formed into things like jell-o and things of that ilk, though again, they were rendered less useful the more diluted they were, the chemicals inside breaking down when exposed to anything that was too acidic or too strong in its own form.

Second, it also tested whether the goods were addictive, and the answer to that was a resounding yes. Even with trace amounts of altered urine in the goods that were passed around, there was at least a psychological addiction in the recipients, and the test subjects were becoming more and more eager to return for the next batch. While it might not have been a physical dependency just yet, they were psychologically eager for the next aroused high that they were getting from the various foods that were passed on to them.

The Nest was pleased.

So was Twilight-Drone.

“Now, make sure that you’re being honest,” she said as she walked past the tables where her little test subjects stood. “I need to know exactly how this works if we’re ever going to pass it on to the public.”

“Mmph…but this is…embarrassing.”

She met the eyes of the stallion complaining. The earth pony’s cheeks were bright red against his blue fur, and he was doing his best to stand so that his erection wasn’t showing past the edge of his desk. Hard to do, considering that he was quite a well-endowed young equine. She shook her head, her horn flickering.

“The important part of this experiment is figuring out the right balance of the ‘special stuff’ in the food, everyone. If I don’t know that, then I could release this, and everyone would end up with…visible reactions.”

The parasite in her had to fake the blush on her cheeks, but it was not noticeable, particularly in a room filled to the brim with other, very embarrassed mares and stallions who, despite their addictions, were still more embarrassed of what was happening than they were turned on by it. They muttered under their breath, but they did start filling out the answer sheet.

Nevertheless, Twilight-Drone made sure to cast a surreptitious honesty spell around the room. Best to make sure that all the answers came back with something accurate; the Nest would be very displeased with her if she made another mistake, and she wasn’t sure that she could take more displeasure.

Oh, it wasn’t that the Nest would harm her, precisely, nor would it lash out at her with vengeance the way that a pony might have done in a similar position. But there was a sense of physical discomfort when the Nest was displeased, and while it was not likely to make her do something that would lead to any sort of harm, it would not shy from putting her through tasks that would push her to the physical limits of the host-body.

The various test subjects finished filling out their surveys, and Twilight gathered them up. She nodded her goodbyes, and the ponies hustled out of the library. As the pile of papers took form on her desk, she heard the soft clip-clop of someone else coming down the library aisles.

It wasn’t until she saw Dapper-Drone that the parasite within relaxed slightly, inasmuch as a parasite ever did. They did not slump or go limp the way that the ponies did; instead, they merely dropped all pretense at expression, or interest, or anything else, going completely and totally blank.

“This host has been busy,” Twilight-Drone said. “There is much information for the Nest. Do you have more to add?”

“Big Mac will be ready for infestation in three days; the addiction is almost complete.”

“This is acceptable. What was learned from Redheart-Drone?”

“Her delayed syncing is due to excessive patients at the hospital. There is a small overflow, currently, with worried ponies checking in.”

“With what?”

“Worried that they have been drugged. They believe that they are being dosed with the things that your test subjects are dosed with.”

“Placebo effects,” Twilight-Drone said, the parasite pulling the term from her mind. “They see the aroused test subjects, and when they feel aroused, unwanted, they believe that they have been afflicted with the same thing.”

“It should be harmless. Redheart-Drone has not noticed any concern at the hospital yet.”

“Good. Then we may continue.”

“The Nest shall grow.”