Cloaken Dagger eats somepony
In a quiet area of a shopping mall, a pony took a seat across from a changeling. Ever since Thorax overthrew the previous Queen, this was hardly shocking, albeit a little uncommon. Particularly notable, however, was what the changeling had decided to look like.
Cloaken Dagger looked over to the pony across the table. His hole-ridden forehooves closed the book he'd been reading, and he leaned over to sip his iced tea, angling the straw between his pointed fangs, before speaking up. "Good afternoon," he said simply.
"Cloaken Dagger, yes?" the stallion asked. It was largely rhetorical; he could probably count the number of changelings who looked like the vicious old drones, but with green eyes, on one hoof. "I've heard you offer... services that King Thorax wouldn't promote."
The changeling looked over his new conversational partner: a light-brown stallion with a green mane and tail, and, more importantly, a cutie mark of a bag of bits. He suppressed a sigh; businessponies could afford higher rates, but were infuriatingly allergic to saying things directly. "Yes, I enjoy infiltration and espionage, especially when I can get paid for it. So, what are you looking for?"
"And what of... other means of subterfuge?"
Cloaken Dagger let out a weary sigh. Oh, would that these fools could be cured of their terrible allergy. "No, I'm not going to seduce your business rival to convince them to leave the field. You're not the first pony to ask, and as much as I'd love otherwise, you won't be the last."
Immediately, the pony's ears pinned back and his lip curled in disgust. "Eugh, no! The last thing I want is for her to be happy, out of my way or otherwise. But, I do want her out of the way. You know..." He drew a forehoof across his neck.
Ah, the changeling realized, he was insane. Or simply stupid. That was more likely. "You couldn't pay me enough. Hay, I doubt I'd take it from Celestia herself. But, out of curiosity..." With an impish smirk, he leaned his chin on his forehooves. "Who is she? And, for that matter, who are you? I don't recognize you from around here."
"She," the stallion spat, "is that self-important, nouvelle-riche mare, Rarity Belle. Do you know how hard it is to hold onto a stranglehold on..."
Insane AND stupid, Cloaken concluded, as he more watched than listened to the pony rant. Sure, the mare wasn't without blemish - nocreature was - but this style of diatribe could only come from someone who got caught with his hoof in the proverbial cookie jar. He cast his mind to recent events, finally coming up with a name: Bit Pinch, recently hitting headlines- well, page one, at least, for losing every single employee to the fashion mare's Fillydelphia outlet when she tore up Bit Pinch's blackmail folder and threw it into the river. A smile nearly crossed his chitinous lips as he recalled the line, "if only I'd thought to burn it first, as well," but his line of expertise gave him plenty of practice at a poker face.
"...making millions of bits for nothing! So believe me, bug, just name your price." At some point, Bit Pinch had risen from his seat, and now leaned over the table, panting for breath.
Cloaken Dagger belatedly realized he probably looked very silly resting his chin on his hooves with a rambling fool now looming over him. As calmly as he could, he withdrew and met the stallion's gaze. "Well, how could I not jump on this opportunity? Blank checks don't fall into my hooves every day, after all. Thirty thousand bits-"
"Done."
He held up a hole-filled hoof. "I'm not finished. Thirty thousand when it's done, and a more... let's say a more 'changeling' payment now." He gestured towards the mall's food court, where a growing number of ponies, griffons, and a few other creatures mingled. "It is lunchtime, after all. I'll eat my fill of you as an advance, and claim the 30k once you hear of her demise."
Bit's pupils shrank; a quick flick of the changeling's tongue caught both surprise and fear. Good. "O-of me?"
"Mm-hm. I did say you couldn't pay me enough." Cloaken Dagger didn't even have to taste to see the indignation creep right back into the pony's- no, his prey's eyes.
"Fine! A bit of lethargy will surely go away once I realize that horrible mare is as good as gone, forever." Despite his bravado, a waver stuck in his voice; Cloaken didn't bother hiding his smug smile this time.
With the deal struck, Cloaken led Bit Pinch away to a back room of the mall, away from onlookers and security. After all, getting caught would bring questions, and the changeling was sure both of them would rat on the other in a heartbeat. In fact, he counted on it. With a secluded spot scoped out, both he and Bit Pinch checked around for anything the other might have missed, until they were both certain of secrecy. More importantly for the changeling, Bit Punch checking around a corner allowed green fire to flow over his body, making a few necessary alterations.
"You may want to close your eyes for this," he cautioned, "I've heard ponies find it unsettling to watch someone else get fed upon, and I can't imagine it's any easier when you're the..." he twirled his hoof, searching for a word, "victim, food, prey... perhaps 'donor,' since you actually agreed to it. Regardless."
"I'm no coward," replied the pony paying someone else to do his dirty work.
Without a word, Cloaken Dagger stepped up to him and opened his jaws wide, wider than any pony could manage. He could taste the apprehension and fear protected by only a thin veneer of determination. In truth, he would far prefer Bit simply close his eyes and take longer to react. Of course, that was only a preference, not a requirement.
The changeling leapt forward, slipping Bit Pinch's muzzle into his mouth; his fangs folded back and, with a single gulp, slid past and behind the pony's head, pricking a warning against the pain of trying to pull back out. His quarry secured, Cloaken Dagger ran his tongue over the stallion's chin and neck, delighting in the floral scent and taste. A grooming habit he'd most likely used to aid in appearing friendly and harmless to his ex-employees until it was too late, now letting a changeling get just a bit more out of turning him into a meal.
A light pressure against his fangs let the cunning predator know that the initial shock had worn off. An instant later, however, Bit Pinch recoiled from the sharp fangs piercing his hide, instinctively pressing towards Cloaken Dagger's throat - an action the bug was more than happy to encourage; deceptively powerful throat muscles bunched up to drag the pony deeper. A holed hoof swept the pony's forelegs off the ground, and Cloaken's mouth kept them pinned back with another swallow.
Bit Pinch's mouth finally caught up with him, just as it and his head squeezed through a tight ring of muscle and into the changeling's stomach. His first words were muffled by the squishy walls, just as his body's wild, uncoordinated thrashing was either muffled by the changeling's tight gullet, made useless by his lack of leverage, or even served to push more of his tasty, furry body over Cloaken's tongue. And, of course, Cloaken Dagger didn't give him much opportunity to catch his bearings, ravenously gulping down inch after inch of the businesspony until only his flanks and hindlegs were left. He sat back hard on his haunches, both to finally get the extra weight off his hooves, and to disorient the suddenly-repositioned pony within.
The changeling's earlier transformation had made it not only possible, but very easy to keep his jaws comfortably stretched over Bit Pinch's hindquarters. While his victory over his prey had never been in question, he savored the last of it, barely swallowing much more than gravity pulled the pony in. His forehooves stroked over his bulging gut, admiring its new capacity and the bulk its occupant added. Especially, he thought to himself, as the pony still tried to struggle free of a body tailored to getting him in and keeping him there.
Finally, a pair of brown hind hooves and a few last tail-hairs slipped into the changeling, and his fangs, no longer held down by his meal taking up his entire mouth, swung back into place. Cloaken Dagger reached one hoof up to his neck as he swallowed, a contented smile crossing his muzzle as he tracked the last of Bit's body slipping down his throat and joining the rest of the devoured pony in his gut. Vain? Certainly. But so very satisfying.
"Hmm, a longer tongue, maybe?" he mused aloud, "wouldn't have helped here, but I do like the idea of wrapping somecreature's hooves, paws, or whatever as a start. Sounds delicate, though, so perhaps reserved for friends..."
"H-hey!" Bit Pinch shouted, breaking his own silence as though the changeling's words had broken a spell, "I thought changelings ate LOVE, not ponies!"
As the pony inside thrashed around, Cloaken Dagger rose to his hind hooves and draped himself over his gut, adding his weight to help stifle his prey's fight. "Normally, yes. But for you? What love is there to drain? Your fur tasted better than your emotions."
The changeling's weight and body heat sapped Bit Pinch's strength, and being upside-down in the dark certainly didn't help. "But... then you can't collect on the rest of the payment."
"Mm, yes, I can see how that might be a problem if I ever intended on fulfilling that part of the deal." Catching folk's emotions was always a bit trickier once they were in his stomach, but Cloaken did his best to wait for enough anger to build before interrupting Bit. "Oh, but wait! I'm a changeling! 'Bit Pinch' can just walk right into his bank and withdraw as much as I want!"
Bit Pinch scrambled around more, throwing hooves wherever he could. Despite all his efforts to keep himself secure against his prey's blows, Cloaken Dagger found himself wincing from a few lucky strikes... but nothing more, as the pony half-collapsed after the barrage, having spent his final burst of spiteful energy. The changeling simply remained atop his pony-filled stomach, waiting for his body to finish its job.
"...ah buck, I think I left my book back at that table."
Author's Note
This was written for an attempt to make more art of my OCs rather than just canon or one-off characters. He turned out to be more of a dick than I tend to think of him as, but I suppose that comes with the territory of occasionally eating ponies.
