A lone human in Equestria finds himself subtly shunned by all the perfect and nice ponies. But things change for him when he runs into a group of ponies who can look beyond what he isn't.
Ian had woken up in Equestria excited and not a little confused as to how it happened. But as tends to happen when expectations are too high, he starts to feel lost, depressed. Ponies are more than fine having a human living nearby, but at the end of the day they aren't a pony. His disappointment in Equestria turns around when he finds a group of mares who will see beneath the pony he isn't, to the stallion he is.
Contains: Human on pony, human on timber wolf, cream pie (creampie? Ugh, internet! Make up your mind on spelling!), sex with disfigured ponies (the actual disfiguring is NOT shown), HiE, Male milking (you know what "milk" ), robot pony on human, public sex, pregnancy, sex with sea monster (not sirens), and wing sex (yeah, you know you want to read to find out what this is ).
The train slowly drew into the station at Canterlot, the big steam engine fighting to bring the carriages to a halt before momentum finally ceased. Ponies streamed on and off the train, some excited for the trip ahead, others a little drained at their journey being over. Ian was neither. Taller than all the ponies surrounding him, he was given room through the crowd, but not out of consideration.
Ian knew, on some level, that the ponies didn't mean the odd stares and slight grimaces, when they saw him, but he couldn't help but feel each was a knife. He had his head down, minding his own business, trusting all the ponies to scatter from his path. Which was why he walked right into a pony who didn't move.
"Hey, watch where you're—" Solid Built froze. She looked slightly down at the human, which wasn't strange. She was a unicorn built on the biggest of scales, and generally looked down on most ponies.
It was a stranger sensation for Ian, having to look up to meet a pony's eye; the fact that the mare had just one was a little strange, in a society that could use magic to heal with. He was sure the Princesses were tall enough to look down on him, but this was the first pony he had met that was so… big. "Sorry, I should look where I am going." He slumped his shoulders, turned to the side, and started to walk around the big mare. Of course, being so big meant there was more to walk past. He saw her cutting a swathe out of the moving hoof-traffic of the station. Her coat was light brown, tail a dirty blonde color, leaving her almost looking like an Earth horse.
"Hold on. It wasn't entirely your fault." Solid started to turn, trusting the crowd to get out of her way. "That started us off on the wrong hoof. My name's Solid Built." She held out a huge hoof, easily intimidating to regular ponies.
Stopping and turning, Ian wasn't sure what to do. "Uh… Ian." He lifted a hand and, curling a fist, lightly punched into the big hoof.
"Ian? That's all?" Solid turned fully and gestured to the exit. "You look like you could use somepony to talk to, Ian." She started walking, forcing a gap to open that practically pulled Ian to her side. "How about a drink?"
Exiting the crowded train station, Solid turned sharply left and headed toward a quieter part of town. "You new in town, Ian?"
It felt strangely relaxing to just be talked to, to be accepted as a traveling partner, after all the curt words and stiff looks ponies had given him. "Yeah, in this town."
"So you don't have anypony?" Solid stopped and turned, pushing open the door of a quiet little building.
The question was not just double-edged, it had more edges than a stallion, or human male in this case, could count. Narrowing his eyes, Ian looked into the taproom of a bar. "Yeah." He admitted, slumping his shoulders, but not having to duck in this bar.
Quiet conversations ceased as the human entered the bar, eyes sliding to watch Ian. When Solid stepped in behind him, it was like a switch was thrown. The residents of the bar returned to their chats, seemingly ignoring the non-pony in their midst.
"What is with this place?" Ian's eyes adjusted to the light slowly, the shapes of the patrons starting to slowly fill out more. His jaw dropped. In one corner a timber-wolf lay, snoozing quietly while a waif-thin pegasus slowly petted the creature's head. What had looked at first like a statue actually moved, revealed to be some kind of pony-like automaton.
"It's not nice to stare, Ian. This is where the ponies that just don't fit in, can come and relax, not worry about being stared at. You looked like you were getting a lot of stares." Solid made her way over to the bar, where a perfect-looking unicorn, pale and pristine, was chatting with a bat pony. Both were behind the bar, clearly running it. "Hey Chatter, hard cider for me and a glass of milk for my friend."
Ian blushed, actually blushed. "I… I like cider…" But the way she had treated him set something off. Then he noticed something, Solid wasn't just a big pony, she was… had been, a unicorn. "Your horn…"
The question earned a stiff glance from Solid. "Yeah, what of it?" She froze as she said the words and shook her head. "Ugh, sorry. Too used to ponies treating me like dirt because of it. Turns out, the crystals that Sombra used on unicorn horns, they need to come out or they eventually start to grow." She tapped her head. "If the Princess hadn't done him in, I would have." The stump of horn, that had been hidden by her mane, glowed a dull yellow as she lifted her drink to take a pull. "That is what did my eye in. One blast of crystal and I lost my job and half my sight."
On the bar before Ian, was a long, slim, glass of milk. "So what do you do now?" He blushed a little as he took the glass and sipped.
"Own a bar, take care of my friends. Mostly what I did in the service, but now I don't have anypony throwing magic bolts at me." Solid grinned. "You should hang around, nopony here will look down their nose at you, well, except Chatter." Solid gestured to the pristine and perfect unicorn behind the bar. "We all got our problems, even her. Some of us were born a little strange, others had strangeness thrust on them. You? In you I see somepony out of their element, not being taken for the colt he is."
Ian was taking a swig of the chilled milk, and almost lost some of it when she called him a "colt." He swallowed the milk, barely avoiding doing a spit-take of the cheesiest variety, and looked at Solid. "I don't even know how I got here. One moment I was asleep in my bed, the next…" He stared back into his drink. "At first I was exotic, nopony had seen anything like me and I got… proposals."
"Herding contracts?" Solid took a pull of her cider, giving a happy sigh.
"Y-Y-Yeah. Them." Ian felt the same rage he had felt back then flare. "They wanted me to be their pet!"
"You're a bit big for a pet. At least to most ponies." Solid reached one foreleg up and around the human's shoulders, pulling him in against her. "Pets… all well and good. I like my stallions cute, but not breakable. You strike me as both."
Ian had no hope of holding back the hot blush in his cheeks, he was pulled in against the big mare and despite what the horrible thoughts of being a "pet" conjured, this was very different. Safe.
"No contracts, not until you feel happy." Solid Built gave the human a squeeze. "Now finish your milk before we have some fun." She used her magic to lift up her mug of cider, pulling it to her mouth and downing the remainder. When Solid put the mug back down, she noticed something lower on Ian's body, making itself known. "Is that a yes?"
"W-W-What? I don't…" Ian couldn't deny he was leaning against the mare, her long shape not only bigger than him, but feeling warm. "What do you want to do?" He couldn't stop blushing, the way she treated him had him getting more and more aroused.
"You look like you need a good cuddle, some looking after." Solid leaned across and rest her jaw on the human's shaggy hair. "Maybe something more, I haven't decided yet." She gave Ian a tighter squeeze. "Just tell this ol' warhorse to bug off and she will."
"No." The word left Ian's mouth with urgency, he felt more relaxed and accepted than he had since waking up in Equestria, part of him even wondered if it extended further back than that. He closed his eyes and leaned into Solid, felt her size and warmth, and just relaxed into her. He closed down, the noise of the taproom faded, with his head against Solid's barrel he heard only the heavy thudding of her heart.
"Another cider." Solid held the human, giving him the time he needed to relax. "Tell me when you want me to put you to bed, little colt." She brushed his hair a little with a big hoof.
"When." Ian breathed the word out. "Why are you doing this for me?" It was a desperate plea, one he almost feared the answer to. "I am just a freak here, and—"
"Shh. We are all freaks here." Solid slipped off her stool, hefting the human in her grip solidly, and carrying her drink with her magic. "Keep things running, Chatter."
"He is a cutie." The perfect unicorn looked the human over. "You treat him well." Chatter used her magic to heft a glass up, a cloth floating to join it.
Ian's eyes were closed, his world narrowed down. Until he was set down on a bed, he didn't even realize they had moved anywhere. "Huh?" He started to add more, but a gentle hoof touched his lips. His eyes followed the limb all the way up to Solid's rounded features.
"You lay still, sweetie." Solid ran her hoof down to the human's chest. With her magic she set her mug down and started to undress the man. Starting with his footwear, she was just getting his socks off when she made a tutting sound. "Why do you wear so much? Is it too cold here for you?"
Staring up at the mare who was carefully disrobing him, Ian felt a little like a child, like her foal. "It's a… a human thing. Our skin is soft and squishy…" He blushed when she unfastened his pants, pulling them down his long legs.
"I have heard of creatures without fur, but look, you seem to have a reasonable coating." Solid ran a hoof down Ian's legs, one at a time, feeling the curly hairs that he seemed to have in spades. "I might have to get some cuter things for you to wear." She smirked at his surprised gasp. "Relax, unless you want a contract, things are simply mutual."
"Contract?" Ian felt a little wary again, his experiences with ponies wanting a relationship contract had not been good so far. "That would make me—"
"The stallion of a herd." Solid left his underwear intact for the moment, peeling back his shirt. "Some mares out there got the strange notion that I would be a good First Mare, that I would find them a big and handsome stallion." Solid leaned down and blew against Ian's fuzzy chest.
Unable to keep back a groan, Ian squirmed on the bed in just his underwear. He knew he was hard, but he didn't take his eyes off Solid's face, which made the touch of her magic around his shaft quite a surprise.
"There you are, is my little colt going to play?" Solid leaned down and ran her snout along the curly fur of Ian's lower belly, nuzzling where the fabric of his underwear ended. She felt him grow into her magical grip. He was a stallion, he was a well-sized stallion at that. She crouched low over the bed—over Ian—and looked up the line of his body to his eyes. "Tell me now, my colt, or I am not going to slow down."
Desire and propriety warred in Ian's head. She was a pony, not a human, on some level it felt wrong. But she was in charge, she was… she was warm, and cuddly, and firm where he needed her to be. He closed his eyes, imagined Solid as anything but the big mare. It wasn't right, her image kept twisting back, the broken horn, the hollow eye-socket. She was a freak like him. She was beautiful. He tilted his head back when she squeezed at his balls, gently. He groaned and squirmed more under her touch.
"That isn't a 'no,' Ian." Solid used her hooves to pull his last vestige of clothing down, she climbed up the bed and over "him." Looking down, the human seemed small, weak. She smiled and kissed his forehead. "Hold still now, I promise this won't hurt."
Ian's mouth opened as she lowered herself over him. His shaft was captured in the grip of her silken passage. He started to cry out, until her mouth pressed over his. Her body came down further and further, trapping him and soon pressing her thighs to each side of his hips. The feel of her tail laid on his leg. The soft brown fur on his belly. The thick tongue exploring his mouth. It was all too much for Ian, he tried to push up, push further against the big mare, but she was far too much for him to lift.
Solid lifted her plot up and dropped it back, she gripped and held him inside her, then repeated the motion. Only able to look into one of his eyes, she stared with great focus, and more than a little love. Pulling back from his lips, tasting the inside of his mouth still, she licked at his nose. "How is my colt liking this? He likes to cuddle?" She held off grinding against him, wanting to hear a legible answer.
Ian's eyes took in everything he could see. The mare atop him looked amazing and he raised a hand to brush along the side of her half-ruined face. Little crisscrossed scars were hidden by her fur, his fingers touched them, traced them up to her missing eye. The eyelids were sewn together, leaving no gaping hole. He hesitated a moment before touching it, but Solid didn't flinch back.
Looking down at the human as he explored her face, Solid was struck by the curiosity in Ian's eyes as he explored her ruined features. "It doesn't hurt, you can keep touching it, if you like." He nodded mutely up to her, so she started to move again. This time, there was no pause—Solid started to buck the human in earnest.
One hand gripped the mare's shoulder, the other was spread and left him transfixed in the strangeness of her scars. She was working him properly now, squeezing and milking at his length with each movement, Ian wasn't sure what was better, the sex, having her be so very in control, or how amazing it was to just connect with someone who wasn't perfect in this "perfect world."
Solid ground down one last time over her lover, and felt a hot rush inside. The grips on her shoulder and face both tightened, bringing only a memory of the pain the crystals caused her. The pain was easily shed, lost in the perfection of what she was sharing with the strange male. Her own body clenched and tightened, squeezing at him, milking him. "All of it, give me all of it."
Ian's eyes widened at the demand, he tried to buck into her, tried to do anything but simply be milked by her body, drained by her clutching depths. He did everything she wanted of him, he gave her all he could, even as lethargy and tiredness swelled through him. But she didn't climb off and walk away, she didn't give him a chance to make the sex awkward. She pulled Ian to her belly and rolled to the side. "Come here my colt, relax, you are home."
Ian woke to a warm bed, a very warm bed. But the warmest patch was beside him, where there was a huge empty space where a very large mare had been spooning him. His brain suddenly came fully awake, and raced at what had happened to him.
His hands slid down his body, felt not a stitch of clothing on himself. All the embarrassment of what had happened washed over him. "This is stupid, I need to find my things and get out of here." Despite his words, the bed was soft, and warm, and smelled of Solid Built. It took him nearly ten minutes, the bed felt safe, comfortable, but he finally stuck one leg out.
With the sanctity of the bed compromised, Ian followed his limb out and looked around for his clothes. Then he saw them, neatly folded, sitting on the end of the bed. Socks, boxers, pants, shirt, and finally pulled his shoes on. "I can probably just slip out."
Leaving the room, Ian looked down the long hallway that branched to other rooms above the bar. At the end of the hall was the stairs Solid had carried him up the night before. Memories threatened to overwhelm him, of what they had done, and how she had treated him.
"Here he is." It wasn't Solid's voice, but the unicorn who had been behind the bar the previous day. "Solid didn't crush you, did she?"
Ian hadn't realized he had even walked to the top of the stairs. Under his breath, he muttered, "Well, there goes sneaking off." He took the stairs slowly, entering the taproom. "Uh… she was nice." It was a total cop-out and both Ian and the mare knew it.
"You don't have to lie here, Ian." Chatter made just like her name-sake and practically held up both sides of the conversation. "Solid is like a mother to all of us, some of us really don't like their real mothers…" She trailed off, giving a sense that she was one of those ponies. "So what do you want? I have some warm porridge for breakfast."
His mouth open, Ian was just about to tell the unicorn he would pass, when his belly grumbled loudly. He closed his mouth and gave a deep sigh. "When will she be back? I need to talk to her."
Chatter laughed and her horn lit up. Without the distraction of a huge mare cuddling him, Ian could see clearly that it was lighting up a sickly green, not the gold her eyes promised. "She will be back whenever, you want a drink?"
As the bowl of hot porridge floated in before him, Ian scanned behind the bar. "Just a juice, if you have some. Anything but apple." He saw the wide grin on the mare's snout widen further. In a moment a chilled glass of orange juice was set before him.
"Thought about a contract?" Chatter seemed inclined to stand directly opposite Ian, watching him. "Don't think I missed that, a hot stallion like you, what do you like in a mare, apart from huge and cuddly?"
It was too many questions at once, way too many, and far too personal. Ian was trying to sink down further, when another voice came from the side.
"Back off, Wobbles." Ian's head lifted again to see the bat pony from behind the bar the previous day. From the side she was on right now, she looked perfect. As she neared him, she turned and he saw her left side. The flesh of her wing-arm was still there, each long, boney finger perfect, but the tattered shreds of flesh between them would make flying impossible. "Hey, my name's Screech… well, it isn't. But like everypony here, a new name for a new life, eh?"
"Ian." Ian looked at the dark-featured mare, then back to Chatter. "Okay, I give in. What is this place all about? Do you trap stallions in here? Force them to sign a Stallion Contract?" The words came out harsher than he intended and he quickly dipped his head. "No, sorry, that came out worse than I meant." It always happened, when he was in a crowded situation, with people—or ponies—he didn't know.
Screech stretched her ruined wing out, wrapped it around Ian's shoulder. "Hey, don't sweat it. Nopony is perfect in here." She tapped a forehoof on the bar and glared at Chatter. After a moment of the two meeting eyes, the unicorn floated another glass of juice over. "Thanks, Wobbles."
"I told you, I prefer Chatter." Chatter stomped a delicate hoof, and in her rage her disguise dropped. A swirl of green fire sputtered around the pretty unicorn, revealing the changeling under the disguise. "Ugh, Screech, now look what you did!"
Ian blinked a few times in surprise, and said what everyone inevitably did when a changeling dropped their disguise. "You're a changeling?" Even as his lips made the words, Ian noticed more. Chatter had a few nasty scuff marks against her carapace, at her right shoulder. Below the marks, the shoulder ended with a small stump of chitin, where her leg should have been.
"Yeah…" Chatter slumped her head down, practically pressing it to the bar itself. She was surprised when something touched her ear. It was soft, warm; as it explored, it started rubbing tenderly. She didn't even realize she twitched her wings, giving a soft chirp of happiness. It was simple, relaxing, and she didn't realize it was Ian doing it for a few moments, and by then she just didn't care.
"You have to teach me that spell, Ian." Screech gave her wing a little flex around Ian's shoulder. "Because nothing short of magic could shut Chatter up that quickly."
"I hate you." Chatter's words contradicted her tone, the changeling sounded relaxed, happy. "So much hate I could just drift off to sleep…" She tilted her head a little, making the ear-rubbing easier.
Ian was fascinated at how calm and quiet the pair had gotten. "Why do you keep calling her Wobbles?" Ian's brain made the connection between missing a leg and wobbling just as Screech's eyebrow raised. "I am just full of stupid questions, today. Sorry, Chatter."
"It'sss okay…" Chatter's eyes were closed, her head resting on the bar under Ian's fingers, she even chirped her wings together again. "Ssssoo… cont… cant…" only when Ian paused his rubbing could she say the complicated word, "contract?"
"Why does everyone seem to want me to sign one of those? They… they are degrading." Ian started rubbing again, using the action to ease his mood. "One just wanted a pet, why didn't they get a dog? Another wanted me to… well, let me just say that a pet would be a step up."
"There are some messed up ponies out there." Screech watched Chatter closely, saw the usually abrasive (to Screech) changeling practically a puddle of peace. "I have to wear a cloak if I want to go outside, ponies actually squeal in shock. It's worse for Chatter, and don't even get me started on Snaps and Click."
Chatter lifted her head and looked at the bat pony. "You said my name!" Her accusation came with a little giggle. "Say it again, so you can remember how it sounded."
"Wobbles." Screech stuck her tongue out.
Ian finally realized the two actually seemed to be friends, and not bitter enemies. "What do you think Solid wants? She… she said something about a contract." He was done with his food, and started using his other hand on Chatter's free ear, completely disabling the changeling.
"She gathers us up." Screech sipped at her juice. "She wanders around the city, particularly the train station, looking for lost little lambs, and brings them back here." The bat pulled her wing back from Ian's shoulder. "She hides her own deformity easier… well, not easier than Wobbles." All the changeling could do was blow a raspberry at the bat pony, which was an amazing sight considering their tongue.
"What about the contract? Did she ask you yet?" Screech sipped her drink again, ruffled her wings, then looked intently at Ian. "Did she even explain it? What it would mean for us?"
"Wait." Ian stopped his rubbing, causing Chatter to open her big, blue eyes. " 'Us'? I don't understand, what would her contract mean for you?" He looked between the two mares.
Screech was first to reply. "Rub the ears and I will explain, if Wobbles starts talking she will never stop. There is a reason she wants to be called 'Chatter,' and I will have no part in encouraging her." She watched Ian's hands as they started, Chatter's eyes closing again. "The contract is for all of us. Me, Wobbles, Bitey, Whippet, and Clicks… oh, and Solid too. It is a herd contract, we want a stallion."
Ian didn't have enough blood in his body to blush sufficiently for the proposition. He looked from the changeling, to the bat pony. "Wait, 'Bitey'?" He frowned. "You don't mean the—"
"I would be very careful talking about Snaps." Chatter's words were soft, but managed to hold a hint of the warning she wanted to pass on. "She really is as smart as a pony, smarter than some I could mention." She gave a deep sigh. "We want fillies… well, they do. I would get by with a good dicking, and being able to drink from somepony while they bucked me."
"What?" Ian froze in his petting of Chatter's ears. "Wait, you want… I don't… I am not even the right species!" His hands started again, unable to resist the lure of the changeling's ears. "I… why are you looking at me like that?"
"Where are you from? This is Equestria!" Screech giggled and waved her drink around expansively. "The home of friendship with benefits!" Both mares laughed at the joke. "Honestly, a little magic, probably an amulet, and you would be as fertile with us as any stallion."
Chatter lifted her foreleg and booped Screech on the snout. "You are getting distracted." With her ears being rubbed, her voice sounded soft, relaxed. "We all have things we want a stallion for, Ian, and you just… you are unique, you look so different, and special; you stick out just like the rest of us."
A shiver ran up and down Ian's spine at the thought of it. He focused on the problem. "I don't know. I mean, I think you are all nice, cute…" an image ran through Ian's head, of pinning either of the two mares down and, "okay, and I think you are both pretty hot." He blushed admitting it, but the two had been so honest and open, that lying seemed like a horrible thing to do.
"He needs time to think, Wobbles. Don't scare the nice creature off, now." Screech downed the last of her drink. "We are a herd, Ian, and we need a stallion. It is entirely your choice, and I wouldn't want you to sign until you have gotten to know Clicks, Rake, and Snaps."
"Not that I am agreeing, but I would like to meet them before… a contract, too." Ian was fighting off thoughts now, of wanting to be their stallion for them. "I need to freshen up, and find some work to do."
Chatter attempted to lift her head enough to at least look up at Ian, but while the ear-rubbing continued she had no chance. "There are some things we need picked up at the market, I was going to get Solid to grab them, but if you want to pay for your room and food, helping out around here would be a good start."
"Work for my lodgings here?" Ian thought it over a moment and smiled. "Okay, that will be fine." He pinched both of the changeling's ears gently and rubbed using just his thumbs and forefingers. When Chatter gave another happy chirp, he let go. "I should go and get clean."
With Ian getting up and heading back upstairs, Screech turned to Chatter. "Well, he certainly has you on his side, I take it?" She reached her good wing over and brushed the changeling's nose. "I have never seen you so… relaxed, Wobbles."
Looking up at Screech, Chatter stuck out her tongue. "New bet. If you are any better than I was, with him rubbing your ears, then I will not complain about you calling me Wobbles, for a whole week."
"You are on. And if you win I will not call you Wobbles at all, Wobbles." Screech booped her friend on the nose playfully. "Ugh, I hope he accepts the contract, it ain't just my ears that are itchy." She shifted her haunches.
~~~~~+++++~~~~~
It didn't take Ian long to get cleaned up and dressed again, experience with pony facilities had rubbed off on him quite well, although their habit of communal bathing still left plenty of room for embarrassment. Luckily, there seemed to be no ponies needing the facilities.
Walking down the stairs again, only Chatter was in the taproom, back in her "pretty unicorn" disguise. "All squeaky clean?" She turned and smiled at Ian, her tail arched slightly. She had, of course, been waiting in just this position for a while now, wanting to show off to the potential "stallion" of her herd.
"Yeah, the bath is quite nice, is it… shared?" It was hard for Ian to keep his eyes off Chatter's plot, her tail seemed to have a life of its own and kept swaying just enough to tantalize him with a hint of what was under it, but never enough to be blatant.
Chatter noticed Ian's eyes and kept the game up. "Of course they are. If you had got up a bit earlier, I might have joined you." She swished her tail almost enough to let him see "her," but always kept her vulva just out of sight. "There is two barrels of hard cider, and another smaller cask of double-distilled applejack I need you to pick up. We have a little cart you can take to carry them in."
Ian had to shake his head to break away from Chatter's hypnotic game. "Two big barrels, and a small cask. Got it. Where do I go for them?" He was straining to not look, but then her tail seemed to twitch more than normal and he was lost to gazing at Chatter's plot again, in the hope it would happen once more.
"I'll write it down." Chatter regretted having to move, but broke the game she was playing by turning and walking to the bar. Scratching down the address on a piece of paper, she floated it over to Ian with her green magic. "Thanks for the meal, by the way."
"Meal?" Ian was a little confused, but turned his attention to the paper.
"Yes, a meal indeed." Chatter reached out boldly with her magic, giving Ian's strained pants a single stroke. She saw his eyes widen in surprise, but didn't push any further. "You are delicious." She gave his plot a pat with her magic, turning back to clean more tables as Ian stumbled out of the bar.
Outside of the inn, Ian felt the old worries come on ten times worse. The air was clean, crisp, but he couldn't help but notice the little looks everypony around him gave, they were recognizing him, but not in the friendly way they did each other, or the oddly hungry way the mares in the inn had. "Where's that cart…" He walked to one side of the inn, but the alley was empty. Walking to the other side revealed a little courtyard that opened up and went behind the building.
Reaching over the fence to unlatch the gate, Ian walked down the path and found the cart. Walking up to the sturdy wagon, Ian couldn't help but grin at the straps on the two poles leading from the front of it. "Well, I don't need those. No sense removing them, though." Standing between the two shafts of wood, he began to pull it out of the little shed. Despite the rustic look of the thing, it had two well-oiled axles, and he had no problems pulling it down the path and out onto the street.
Pulling out the note, Ian found that it wasn't just an address, but a map. Memories of Chatter's behavior dove to the fore, only for him to have to shove it roughly aside; he was blushing enough, and didn't want that blood rushing to other places again. What Ian couldn't stop, was the silly-happy grin on his face, something that he hadn't realized he had been missing. Memorizing the directions, he started off down the street.
Each look Ian got reminded him of the fact he was different. It wasn't anything overt, but ponies naturally flocked, or herded, to ponies. Even walking down the street with a big smile on his face—courtesy of Chatter's show—somehow made him less visible to them. Nonetheless, he found the place he needed to be at and turned the wagon across the street and into the alley beside the big distillery.
"Hey there, what can I help you with?" An old unicorn stallion, rickety legs folded against his thin, white-furred torso, was sitting in a rocking chair. On his head, a once-full mane of vibrant orange hair was reduced to a small mop of thin ginger strands, desperate to cling to each other for fear of falling. "New in town I take it? Who're you workin' for?"
"Uh, Chatter… no, Solid Built." Ian blushed as the memories of both mares came to him, and it was all he could do to stop his pants from splitting. "That is, I am collecting the two barrels of cider, and a small barrel of double—"
"Double distilled jacked cider. Just makin' sure you got the right order. It's all ready fer ya, come on around the back, bring the cart." Rolling forward off the chair, the old stallion started walking toward the rear of the distillery. "M'name's Dark Apple."
"Ian." His reply was short, but lifting the cart's shafts again, he started pulling the thing forward, it left him panting a little. Behind the building was open, the whole place lacking a back wall. "Whoa…" He rolled the cart up to where the old stallion indicated.
"Tough critter, aren'tcha? Bet ol' Solid has her hooves full with a strappin' stallion like you around." Dark Apple's horn flickered a few times before he lifted the smaller of the three barrels up onto the cart.
"Uh, hold on, I can help with that." Ian started to move around the wagon.
"Whoa there young colt, you gotta hold the wagon." Dark glared at Ian. "Ah got these no problems. Been a long time since this stallion ain't been able ta lift one'a these." Sure enough, one of the big barrels was grabbed up in his deep red magic and lifted onto the cart, which sank down a little with the weight. "There, see?"
"He isn't trying to prove how tough he is…" Solid's eyes narrowed. "Well, funny I find you here, my little colt." She strode out from behind the barrels she had been inspecting, walking with the heavy, solid gait a mare her size found comfortable. "Who sent you out to run errands?"
"I asked to do things. I want to pay for my keep." Ian wasn't sure quite why he felt defensive, or why he wanted to take the heat off Chatter. "So I sent myself."
Solid's heavy hooffalls came closer, the big mare soon looming over Ian. "You sign that contract and I promise, you will 'work for your keep.' " Her grin was wide. "Hop in the back, Ian. I can pull this thing home. Chatter worries I do too much, but it is her job to worry."
"Her job? Isn't she just your barkeep?" Ian didn't budge from his position between the two poles, holding them steady with his hands. With the third barrel—the second of the big ones—in place, he gave an experimental tug on the cart, and it barely budged.
"Chatter was a nurse in her hive. She raised little grubs, she cared for all the changelings, before they became changelings. She still likes to care for her friends, but doesn't treat them the same as grubs, that is for sure." Solid saw the blush hit Ian's cheeks, and grinned. "Now hop on the back and let yer dam get this thing home."
Ian wasn't completely familiar with the word Solid had used, but he certainly recognized the tone as one a mother would use for their child. "I'm bigger than—"
"In the back, now." Solid stepped closer, invading Ian's personal space and, to his shock, she closed her mouth onto the back of his neck.
A glow wrapped around Ian, lifting him up and taking most of the strain from his neck, and setting him in the cart. A strong sense of powerlessness almost overwhelmed him while Solid held him that way, but at the same time a distinct wave of comfort and relaxation poured through him like warm honey. He was in a daze, looking on as Solid hitched herself to the cart. He wanted to say something, anything, but his throat kept feeling choked.
Solid turned her head to make sure Ian was okay, then with a motherly smile she stepped forward. The wagon behind her was heavy, but nothing she hadn't hauled with her cart a dozen times before. Once they were clear of the distillery, she decided it was time for questions. "What did they think of you?"
"Huh?" Ian was barely pulling out of his odd, dream-like state. "Who?" He waited a moment, then put it together. "Oh, Chatter and Screech?" Mention of the two mares shook the last cobwebs of his distraction. "Chatter was really nice. I rubbed her ears and I think she liked it a lot. When I came out later, she seemed… different."
"Let me guess." Solid was leaning into the harness, like the drey-pony she was. "When she was adorable and cuddly she was out of her disguise, and when she got naughty, she was a unicorn?" She looked back, read the surprised expression on Ian as revelation. "It's a little funny. Changelings don't have the same gender bits as ponies, unless they are disguised as us. Then everything kicks into gear. What about Screech?"
"I thought she was being nasty to Chatter, at first." Ian remembered back to how the two acted. "When Chatter didn't argue back—because I was still rubbing her ears, she really liked that—she seemed to back off, I wasn't sure at the time. They argue a lot?"
"A lot would be an understatement, and both of them adore it." Solid turned into the street the inn was on. "Go on."
"She tried to back off then, I wonder if her ears are sensitive too?" Ian found himself smiling at the simple prospect of trying. He took a deep breath, realizing that so far as he had seen, a Contract probably wouldn't be terrible. "What happened to them?"
"They were fighting. It wasn't all officially released, but at the big wedding, when the changelings attacked, they tried to push through to Princess Luna." Solid plodded forward. "It was bitter fighting, but when it was done, there were a lot of dead ponies, and two survivors at the door. Screech almost took Chatter's head off, until she saw the terror. Chatter's hive was gone, her family abandoned her."
Ian was captivated, listening intently. "And then they became friends?"
"Hardly." Solid chuckled. "But Screech couldn't fly, and Chatter couldn't walk properly. Both had lost their friends and family to a stupid fight. Eventually they worked out their differences. Bat ponies aren't really all that common around the city, and an injured one less so. A good changeling is only slightly less common."
The cart didn't jerk, but Ian felt it sway a touch as Solid pulled it into the yard at the inn. "What about the others? Rake… Snapes—"
"Snaps, and she is very particular about how you say that, too. Keep it sharp, like what it describes." Solid braced and pushed backwards, fighting the momentum of the cart and bringing it to a stop. "Get me the two planks from over there, please."
Ian moved fast, jumping down from the wagon, running and grabbing the planks Solid indicated. "What are they like? Snaps… Everypony speaks like she is another pony. Is she?" He carried the two lengths of wood to Solid Built.
Levitating the wood to the back of the cart, Solid started to roll the first big barrel down. "Snaps is every bit as smart as a mare, more so in some ways. She can't talk, but I promise if you spend a little time with her, you will understand." She rolled the barrel up beside the inn, where a big set of double-doors led into the ground. "Then you have Rake. Pegasus, skinny as a whip. Snaps and her are sisters, and Ian," Solid made sure to get his attention, "never for one second question that. Rake was raised in the Everfree Forest. She thinks every bit the same as Snaps, but she talks, if she likes you."
"Sisters, got it. Rake was the thin mare?" Ian watched for Solid to nod. Wanting to be useful, he reached into the cart and heaved the little barrel up and onto his shoulder; it was heavy, but he wasn't a small guy. "Okay, and the robot pony?"
"Click Clack. Call her Clicks." Solid's muscles twisted like rope as she heaved the second big barrel, bodily, from the cart. "She was made for war, made to be an unthinking fighter that Equestria could rely on to save its soldiers. Like many of her kind, magic happened." She used her magic to stack the two planks back on the cart, then again to open the doors to the cellar. "She is a little delicate in some ways, she will defend anypony she believes deserves it, and even begged to stay in the army, but it was too much for them. Like everypony else, she wound up here, with us."
"And me?" Ian walked to the doors and looked down. "A lift? Neat." He set the small barrel on one side of the platform.
"And you too. If you need a place to stay, and want to do some work, you are welcome to stay here. If you, and the girls, are interested in you signing the Contract, then that is gravy." Solid rolled one big barrel onto the lift, then the other. "And the girls might even want to have some fun without the Contract, like we did. But know this, if a stallion comes along and signs with us, you will be off the menu."
Ian watched as Solid stood back from the lift, but used her magic to trigger it. The three barrels were lowered down into the cellar of the inn. "You are that…" He didn't want to say desperate. "Eager."
"We are, Ian. There is something inside all of us… except Clicks, that wants a foal. If you get any of us without a Contract, we are okay with that, we will raise any filly or colt. But know that if you sign that, foals are on the menu, and aren't negotiable." Solid closed the big doors and walked right up to Ian. "You get a choice, my little colt. Either you walk along at my side like a good foal, or I carry you."
The ultimatum startled Ian. He looked at Solid for any hint she might be joking. His memory ran back to how it felt to be picked up and carried, just like a foal. He trembled a little, and imagined that feeling again. A firm mouth gripping his neck, the magic taking most of the weight from the mouth-hold, but leaving him still feeling helplessly carried. Until the front door of the inn banged open, he didn't realize that Solid had made his mind up for him. His legs were curled up a little, held in place by her magic. There was nothing else for it, he couldn't stop his groin from reacting, his shaft growing hard against his pants.
"Momma Solid is home!" Chatter was halfway across the bar before she realized that Solid was carrying Ian like a foal. "And she has a new colt!" She pranced a little, reaching in with her snout to nuzzle at Ian's cheek. "And isn't he just adorable. Where did you find him?" Her grin was a mile wide.
Solid could smell Ian's arousal, she remembered what he had been like the previous night. He smelled good. "Somepony sent him out with our cart, to help me bring back the new cider load. I think they can head downstairs and take care of putting it away." She gave Chatter a meaningful look.
Ian couldn't think completely straight, not carried like that, but when he felt a soft seat under his rear he relaxed into it, not realizing a soft, feathered wing curled around behind his shoulders. It was too easy to lean against the pony, until he felt her ribs. His hand was around Rake, tracing up and down her side, feeling how amazingly thin she was. "Rake."
"Look what momma brought home for the pack? You are Ian. Chatter says you are very tasty indeed." Rake liked to be touched, and more, she liked how his fingers traced her form. "But what will be offered tonight, for supper?"
"I… uh, hi?" Ian tried to pull back to a more comfortable distance, but the thin mare was having none of it. Her wing felt like it was made of steel cable, the tendons having worked harder to make the limb an extra arm, than give her flight. It intrigued him, and without realizing it, his fingers traced up her side, finding her other wing. The gasp from her lips was anything but the hard, predator he had just been listening to, she sounded happy.
Rake turned a fraction, bringing both her eyes to focus on Ian's own. "Don't start what you won't finish." She bared her teeth, teeth filed to sharp points—but it was posturing. Rake groaned as his fingers traced up her wing, feeling each feather, each tendon, and each and every bone. She slid her wing out for him, letting him explore further. "Solid…"
Ian almost ignored the name, until he realized the big mare was still there, watching them with a loving grin.
"Yes, Rake?" Solid was almost purring like a big tabby cat.
"I like him, he likes to explore, to touch." Rake moved, pulling Ian over her, dropping to her back and pulling his head upwards. She tilted her head back.
"Wait, what…?" Ian was now laying over the mare, his mouth pressed in against her neck. He was more than a little worried, until his ear caught the sound of her breathing. Rake was panting in excitement, an excitement he found himself sharing. He drew his hand up to her shoulder, rubbing the tight muscle, then up to her neck. Everything about her seemed compact and thin, except she certainly didn't lack strength. Something tickled his memory. "Your sister?"
"Will want her turn, later. Bite my neck, damn you." Rake's voice came out with a chuckle behind it. "Am I really going to have to tell my stallion what to do?" She tilted her head just enough to see Ian biting at her, and she groaned in delight.
"You know the rules, Rake." Chatter's voice was full of not just enthusiasm, but hunger too. Her eyes traced over Ian and Rake, the taste of the lust in the pair sending a shudder running through her.
"She's right." Rake squirmed, the grip on her neck making her body ache in need. "Upstairs. Snaps is waiting for us." She tried to move out from under Ian, then froze as she realized he wasn't letting go. "P-P-Please?"
The spell broke for Ian, his mind snapped from the wild place Rake's words and actions had sent him. He quickly let go of the pony's neck, panting from how fast his heart was pumping. "Uh… upstairs?"
Rake looked up at Ian, her eyes dancing in delight. "Snaps likes to play rough, rougher than me." She moved quickly, working her way out from under Ian. "Come on." She turned, making sure Ian was looking at her plot, and trotted upstairs.
Ian could count the ribs on Rake's sides, her hips and shoulders looked bony; the mare looked like she was named, rake-thin. There was just something about her, the way she moved, the way her eyes and ears flicked at every sound. Rake was closer to being a wild animal than a pony.
Jumping up, Ian almost ran after Rake, before regaining a little composure and walking casually. He got to the bottom of the stairs before he heard Chatter clear her throat. Stopping, he turned to look at the changeling.
"Whoa, don't stop, I was going to tell you to move faster. Rake might wait for you patiently, but Snaps is likely to bite your head off." Chatter laughed, energizing her horn and giving Ian a smack on the rear to get him moving.
Running up the stairs, Ian's thoughts raced back to Rake, and the mare giving him her throat. That strange ache grew again, the wildness that lived in every human finding an outlet in the thin mare. He caught sight of her storm-cloud-gray tail entering a room and followed. He got just inside the door before he realized there was a big predator beside him.
"Shut the door, we need to talk rules first." Rake climbed up on the bed, curling herself into a tight half-circle, flicked her tail to expose herself to Ian. "Snaps really wants to test you, Ian. She wants to fight and struggle, win or lose. Do you understand that?"
Ian closed the door behind him and looked at Snaps. Standing almost halfway up his belly at her shoulders, she was a big creature. "Wait, test me?" Snaps grinned at him.
"Yeah, test. She is an alpha bitch." Rake waited to see if Ian would ask what that was, and smiled when he didn't. "If you can beat her… Okay, I haven't ever seen that happen before, but I think she would really like that. If you try, and fail, you are going to be a beta to her alpha."
Snapped from his unintentional staring contest with Snaps, Ian looked at Rake. "And what about you?" Looking at the mare on the bed was a little startling, she was making sure that just looking at her gave Ian a good view of her vulva and tail-hole.
"I will walk up and offer my neck to any stallion, Ian." Rake grinned, showing off her teeth. "But Snaps keeps me from doing that. Find your place with us, and you can take me any time you can get on my back." She fluffed her wings a little, making sure Ian knew just what she meant by the statement. "But there are rules, because despite being wild animals we all want to have fun, right? So 'Red' is stop and no more, 'Amber' is hold on and slow down a bit. Wagging your tail up and down is the same as Amber… ah buck, you don't have a tail. Tap on the side of our cheeks if you want to tap out."
Ian looked back to Snaps, saw the big wooden canine was looking at Rake. He had barely a moment of her turning back to him before she shifted her weight and bounced toward him. Adrenaline immediately shot into his system, and Ian was diving to the side. "What the hell?" He started to get back to his feet, turned, and saw Snaps shaking her head from where she had plowed into a wall.
Turning on the new stallion, Snaps narrowed her eyes and relaxed her jaw. Lolling her tongue out, she feinted to one side, then dove the other. Again she missed, but this time she hadn't committed as much on the attack, turned and was on Ian. Snapping her mouth, she strained against one of his arms, that kept her from making it to his throat.
Driving his free fist into the side of Snaps' head, Ian struggled and fought. He watched twigs and bits of wood scatter from the opposite side of Snaps' head, but still the timber wolf savaged at him. For all her biting, though, Snaps didn't seem to be actually breaking his skin, Ian didn't know whether to be thankful or angry that she wasn't putting her all into it.
Her plan wasn't working, his throat was well protected by the raised arm, so Snaps decided to go for the arm instead. Clamping her wooden fangs down on the limb, she bit down until she felt his skin almost ready to give.
With the wolfess' head now held still by her own grip, Ian's next punch to the side of her head was a lot more solid. Fully half the branches of Snaps' head flew sideways, and in a moment of horror, Ian thought he had actually hurt her. "What did I—" the green glow around the sticks that had scattered cut Ian's voice short, the scattered wood flew back toward Snaps' head, reforming the wolf completely.
Reformed, Snaps gave up on Ian's neck and searched out easier tender-spots. As she closed her mouth down on Ian's shoulder, he rolled over to get free.
Pain blossomed in Ian's shoulder-blade as Snaps' jaws closed down on it. He tried to turn and get free, but each time he tugged on the grip she tightened down more. Gritting his teeth, Ian tried to turn, to fight Snaps again.
"Amber!"
The pain, most of it, fled. Ian felt Snaps let go and turned to look at the timber wolf only to find her looking back, equally clueless.
"I said it, you two dummies." Rake dropped down off the bed and stalked over to Ian and Snaps. "You," she lifted a hoof and poked Snaps, "need to play nicer. You may want to break this stallion and ride him until midnight, but I want him after that." She rounded on Ian next. "And don't get me started on you. You are tougher than any stallion I have seen, and a lot of timber wolves. Snaps plays for keeps, but you need to promise to call out when things get too much."
"Wasn't too much." Ian looked up at Snaps and saw she had shreds of his shirt in her mouth. "Okay… it might have been close, but we need to finish this." He reached back and pulled his shirt up and over his head. Another quick motion had his pants, socks, and shoes kicked off and to the side of the room. Something very wild rose in him, he was naked and about to fight a wolf for dominance.
Ian waited right until Snaps seemed to square off, and charged. Shoving into Snaps, he felt her jaws close on his leg, but heaved under her, throwing the wolfess onto her back. He dropped down on top of her, pinning her down despite the bite.
Looking up at her attacker, Snaps was gifted with quite a sight, Ian was getting just as turned on by the fight as she was. Hunger filled every inch of her, and before she knew what she was about to do, she released his thigh and leaned up, closing her mouth around his shaft.
"Oh—" Ian froze in place. If Snaps wanted to, she could end any hope of him getting a Stallion Contract right then and there, and both of them knew it. He waited, voice caught in his throat, he was beaten, but Snaps did cheat, in a way. But she didn't bite down, didn't maul him, instead that oddly smooth mouth sucked at him, pulling more of him inside. Ian groaned and sank down on Snaps.
As she rolled her big tongue around her dog's shaft, Snaps felt him surrender, felt him relax and give in, but she hadn't played by the rules. He had beaten her as well as she had beaten him. She sucked some more, running her fangs along his tenderest of places, taking him all the way until her snout bumped his groin.
Words weren't needed, Ian understood Snaps, and she him. He felt her rise, climbing up, only to draw her mouth free at the last possible moment. He was laying on his back, still, but he saw the wolfess turn, and her large soft-wood tail swish sharply to one side. His eyes drilled her, examining the depths that looked almost like a real flower. Her flesh was dark, soft, and leaking. Ian got to his feet and rushed forward.
"This is so buckin' awesome. I expected one of you to win…" Rake was laying on the bed, her wings fluffed and relaxed, one hoof rubbing herself. She watched as Ian slammed against Snaps' plot, and dug her hoof into her folds a little more firmly.
Snaps turned and snapped at the air, growling and snarling, but she didn't move away from Ian as he plunged into her. Her body was on fire, burning with need, and this one male had proved to her he had the right to be on her. He was hers, and she was his.
Bringing his hips back, Ian paused a fraction of a second, before driving back in again. The feel of Snaps' body around him was unlike anything he had ever experienced. Her folds were soft, like slick leaves, but there was the sensation of hard branches around him. It was exotic, strange, arousing, and amazing. He could stop himself, he pulled back and shoved in, pulled back and shoved in, his dance starting.
Snaps lifted her head, looking straight. She felt Ian slam into her, his fingers dug into her sides. She felt him pull small twigs and pieces free in his efforts to keep a good grip; Snaps didn't care about any of it. She had another wolf in her, breeding her. She howled as Ian kept his pace, rutting her like a feral timber wolf.
A second howl joined the first. It almost broke Ian's focus from tending to the bitch under him. He turned his head and saw Rake, the thin mare with both forehooves planted behind her, rubbing and stroking like crazy. She was contorted around like a pretzel, and she was howling with her sister. Digging his fingers deeper into Snaps' side, he lost himself completely, his hips becoming a blur of movement.
Her howl rose in intensity, Snaps screaming out her love through the constant ululation. Her choice was made, she knew in that instant that Ian was perfect for their Contract, but even that thought was shoved from the timber wolf's head, as she felt a hot rush in her flower.
Ian couldn't stop. He was unloading into Snaps and his hips drove harder and harder, timed to each spray of his seed into her. He slumped forward, wrapping both arms around Snaps, as she collapsed to the floor. He felt her insides squeezing and milking at him, demanding more, and getting it. He groaned, his voice merging with Snaps and Rake's.
Rake fell sideways when her sister's climax hit, rolling off the bed and hitting the floor with a groan and a laugh. Her body tingled all over, she hadn't climaxed but she felt really good and ready to. She looked over to her sister, and their new dog, and wagged her tail.
About as spent as he could be, Ian pulled free of Snaps. He felt sore all over from their fight, but pleasure and the lazy warmth of post-ejaculatory refraction ensured he was smiling and ignoring anything that was actually sore. He fell to his side, pressing his back to Snaps. His brain had a moment where he tried to work out where Rake was, until her mouth closed around his spent shaft.
All Ian managed was a groan, and he certainly didn't push her away, so Rake kept nuzzling and suckling on him. When Ian's hand came down and rubbed her ears, Rake closed her eyes, letting his hand dictate the movement of her head, letting Ian guide her.
Ian was trapped between the two sisters, one nipping and nuzzling her way through his hair, cleaning it like any canine would, the other sucking him slowly back to hardness, her movements obeying his control. It was primal, it was sexy, it felt like home.
Ian woke suddenly to a sharp, tight grip on his shaft; it wasn't pain, but came close. His eyes stared up at the wooden ceiling, wide and unfocused until the squeeze eased back. With the immediate problem of his penis getting crushed no longer narrowing his attention, Ian realized he was naked, sore in more than one place, and had a large timber wolf laying atop him.
Shoving her snout down into Ian's neck, Snaps nuzzled and then licked his throat, all the way from his chest to his chin. At last she had her muzzle perched at Ian's chin, and she pushed her wooden lips to Ian's, claiming a kiss from him.
"She really likes you. Nopony has been able to stand up to her in a fight." Rake's voice yanked Ian's attention to the side, where the mare was laying on her side, one hoof down and behind her back legs; she was rubbing slowly. Her mane and tail were a mess, the fur around her snout was matted with dried liquids. "I like you too, mostly for the same reasons, but also because you are a buckin' animal."
Rake's eyes flashed a moment, revealing a feral nature that surprised Ian more because he felt some part of himself answer it, than because it is there. He tried to pull back from Snaps, from the kiss, and realized the wolfess wasn't in the mood to let him. Fear didn't rise in his chest, playful anger did. Pulling up a knee, Ian shoved upwards, pushing the unprepared wolf to her side, and then back. He was atop her, and the rolling to get there reminded him that he was still in her, and the term "morning wood" was entirely too apt. He shoved his hips forward, shoving down with his hands.
"My alphas…" Rake watched Ian start to grind in and out of Snaps, she caught each glance she could at his shaft, glistening with the moisture of Snaps' flower, as he proved that despite her size, he was every bit Snaps' equal. She rubbed herself faster, building her pleasure up in time with Ian's thrusts. Closing her eyes, Rake imagined a picture of a feral timber wolf Ian, on her back, breeding her.
Both Ian and Snaps turned their heads, spotting just how into their coupling the mare was. Her hoof kept time with each pump Ian gave, using each squelching sound to time her strokes. His own mind wandered a little, it was like he was mounting the both of them, claiming them both. The thought drove him to a near-frenzy of motion,
The howl that rose in Ian's throat, was matched perfectly by Snaps and Rake. The three of them sent their voices soaring with their orgasms, Ian reached out and grabbed Rake by the scruff of her neck and dragged her to him, ending his own howl with a nuzzle to her neck. They lay there together, a warm tableau of post-coital bliss.
At last, Rake squirmed a little in Ian's grip. "I need to use the bathroom…" She had to fight off a giggle, squirming more and climbing to her hooves when Ian let go. "Maybe we should go down? I think it is dinner time soon."
Alone with Snaps, Ian leaned up, pulling himself free so he could slide up her body. Scratches, nicks, an odd cut where her various branches stuck out were ignored as he leaned up to her throat, and nuzzled against the twigs there. Inhaling, he got the smell of wood, of canine, and something else. "Home." The word slipped out before he realized. "We should clean up and go down." Bracing his hands, he shoved upwards and to the side, climbing off Snaps.
Moving with determined motions, Snaps reached up and wrapped her mouth around Ian's shaft. She loved the way he froze, as if she would bite it off; why would she bite down on a part of him she liked so much? She sucked, working her leaf-like tongue over him and cleaning him up after their fun.
Looking down, Ian met Snaps' eyes with his gaze, seeing a touch of subservience there, but also desire. Words wouldn't come, and he somehow knew that she wouldn't welcome them—she is a creature of actions. Taking a deep breath, Ian pulled back from her and walked around the big wolfess. She watched him walk behind her. Her eyes flickered as he lifted her tail with one hand and lowered down. She yowled as he lapped at her flowery-folds. Ian tasted sweetness mixed with a rich, savory musk.
"Taking care of each other, then?" Rake laughed at the look of embarrassment on Ian's face, and satisfaction on Snaps. "Get your clothes on, our stallion, dinner is almost ready." She turned and pulled the door shut with a wing. "Damn he is hot…" She trotted for the stairs, tail swishing.
Ian realized his licking would only prompt more moisture, and slowly widened his cleaning until he had her flower-like folds as clean as he could keep them. Rubbing down from Snaps' back to her croup, Ian felt far more comfortable with her, with just being around her. His clothes, when he looked around for them, were scattered. He grabbed his pants, gave up on finding his underwear, and pulled them on. He barely found his shirt when Snaps opened the door and walked out.
A bubble seemed to burst. Ian breathed deeply and gave a sigh, the first civilized sound he had made since they started. "Wow." He couldn't stop a wide smile from pulling along his face, that wilted a little when he took a step. Every welt, every scratch, and places where both Snaps and Rake had bitten him, it all came back with a rush. Only the memory of how wild their sex had been could banish it.
"Is my little colt okay?" Solid poked her head into the room, her horn lit to open the door. "Well," she lifted her snout and sniffed, "somepony has had a bit of fun. Are you going to come downstairs, or will I have to carry you again?"
From vicious apex predator right down to a colt; Ian felt himself shiver at Solid's words and he was already walking. "I can walk myself." He sounded more like a colt, even after everything he had just done.
"Did you have fun with Rake and Snaps? Snaps can get a little boisterous sometimes, she wasn't too much?" Solid walked beside Ian, her bulk making him feel small by comparison.
"They are amazing." Ian thought over the two. "They bring out something in me… I lost control. Not in a bad way. We were all just…" He couldn't think of a good way to describe it, and just shrugged. "I really want to—"
"Then you will need to think about that Contract. Don't think I won't hold it over my little colt's head, because I will." Solid Built looked Ian right in the eyes and dared him to nay-say her. "What if we make a deal? You give us an answer by the end of the week."
"I can do that." The inclination to agree was too strong for comfort. Ian heard a little voice inside, yelling at him to just say, "Yes," right now. "What's for dinner?" His bare feet were quiet on the stairs down, although Solid was making enough noise for both of them.
"Here he comes." Chatter leaned back on her chair, insectile wings buzzing to keep her from falling off. "By the egg he fills me up just looking at him. I see what you mean, Rake." Her big blue eyes were locked on Ian, and he couldn't help but get a flash of memory, of the show she had put on for him in the bar.
Ian froze when he saw the robot pony. Robot was an insufficient word to describe Click Clack. She looked like what a computer would build, if given a description of a pony, and it only knew how to use gears, levers, and green-glowing tubes. Her legs were almost skeletal in appearance, just lengths of metal rod with clockwork joints holding them together. And all down them tubes spread the green goop, the stuff bubbling in places, appearing to have ice crystals in it elsewhere. She looked back at Ian, her big, crystalline eyes showing real life and intelligence behind them. He knew he was staring, watching her gears spin or advance slowly, winding up or letting out springs.
"He is cute." Click Clack was well-used to being stared at, but the gaze of the human was different. She felt he wasn't looking at all the ways she was different to a regular pony, but was really interested in what made "her." She smiled when Ian blinked at her summation. "Ask your questions."
"How did…?" Ian trailed off, then recovered. "I really just have one." His limbs seemed to move again, and Ian walked up to the table and sat down. "The descriptions I heard of…"
"Bot ponies." Click smiled, her mouth noticeably curling at the corners.
"The description of bot ponies I heard had them as huge, solid armor." Ian gestured at Click Clack. "If you don't mind me saying, you are… petite, pretty." The last word slipped out by mistake. Ian blushing at his slip, even as his mind justified it.
Click tilted her head a little to the side, then turned to look at Chatter. "You were right." When she turned back to Ian, his face was a little darker red.
"Here's your grub." Screech walked out of the kitchen, plates of stew on her back. "Didn't know what you eat, Ian, so got you the same vegetable stew as Solid." She put down the plate of hearty vegetable stew in front of him.
Ian noticed the two big plates passed down to Rake and Snaps had chunks of other stuff in them, and then Screech's own, likewise, had strange things in it he didn't recognize.
"Bugs." Chatter leaned in and rested her leg-less shoulder against Ian's side. "Screech is a bug-biter." She stuck out her tongue at Screech, and got a returned raspberry. "And your two bitches on the end—"
"Language at the table." Solid glared at Chatter.
"Well, they are… But anyway, they prefer a little protein in their food." Chatter pointed to Snaps, who was daintily picking out bits and pieces, while beside the wolfess Rake showed no greater manners.
"Chatter doesn't eat anything but love, and lust." Screech crunched down on her meal, her fangs tearing up the needed protein. "Yours is just vegetable, I can make something special next time, if you want?" She spread her ruined wing and hugged Click to her side.
Hunger had gotten the better of Ian, and he started using the spoon provided to eat. Conversation stopped, mostly, for nearly ten whole seconds. "We heard all that howling, figured either Snaps had gone a little too far or you were getting along okay." Chatter lived up to her name. "So, want to come and play with Click and me tonight?"
Ian nearly spat out his food, unused to having mares propositioning him constantly. He looked to Chatter, and then to Click.
"That would be interesting." Click Clack wasn't eating, she was busy watching Ian. "I haven't been with a stallion of your configuration." She turned to look at Chatter. "Does he have the usual arrangement? Penis, balls, anus—"
Ian gulped hard, trying to get his mouthful of food down before he coughed it all up.
"He has all the good bits." Rake didn't protest when Snaps ate some of her food. "Oh, and he has a good sized—"
"Try it." Solid glared at Rake, her horn glowing, pinning the waif-thin pegasus' snout closed. "I will not have any more talk of anatomy at the dinner table." She looked between Click, Rake, and Chatter.
"What did I say?" Chatter sat forward on her seat.
"Rake was faster." Screech popped a crunchy bug in her mouth and chewed it. "Or you would have jumped in with a detailed description. I saw you peeking on him when he was asleep."
"I did not!" Chatter leaned against Ian a little more, rubbing her empty shoulder joint against him. "I wouldn't look at you while you were sleeping!" She turned back to Ian. "Well, unless you wanted me to. Maybe I should? Protect your from sneaky bats coming to molest you in your sleep!" Chatter realized she might have gone too far, so she leaned her head against Ian's side.
"None of you are to do anything to Ian while he is sleeping." Solid glared at all the mares on the table, even Chatter—who was still hiding beside Ian. "That includes just watching, touching, or even just slipping into his room to snuggle him."
"Snaps already did… kinda." Rake poked her sister in the ribs, which had no effect on the timber wolf. "Woke him up with a very happy—"
"Rake." Solid lifted a hoof up and pressed it to her forehead. "Just eat your dinner."
Shielded by any further conversation by Solid's rules, Ian managed to get the entire plate of stew down. He got nearly a full four seconds to relax before Chatter's mouth started opening again. "Alright." He looked at Chatter.
"You mean 'alright,' alright? As in a yes?" Chatter's wings chirped a little in excitement as she focused on Ian. "As in me and Click at the same time?" She was bouncing in her seat now, wings chirping again and again.
"Hey Cricket, calm down." Screech crunched the last of her own meal. "I guess I am going last then." She gave an expansive sigh and smiled to Click. "Don't wear him out, please?"
"Click is going to really have fun, aren't you?" Chatter's blue eyes danced, but she faltered when she saw Solid's glare. "What? Everypony is done with their food." She gestured around at the table; sure enough, everyone was done with their food.
"It's still the dinner table until we all get up and go about our things." Solid wadded up some of a napkin and reached over. To Ian's shock, she wiped a little of the stew from the corner of his mouth. "Play nice with my girls." She turned to glare at Chatter, then Click, then back to Chatter.
"Sorry, mom." Click Clack looked at Solid with an impudent grin that suggested the bot pony knew a lot more about the nuances of humor than a magically-intelligent robot should. "Can we leave the table and test Ian's reproductive system now?"
Giggles swarmed around the table, and even Solid wasn't immune; Rake leaned in to Click, not lowering her voice too far. "I am pretty sure it all works. I tried blowing on it, then sucking on it, but I think it was Snaps who worked out the trick."
"I think I can work something out." Click Clack eyed up Ian, her mechanical irises scanning up his body, evaluating, planning. "Do you enjoy being penetrated?" The moment she said it she had her answer. "Relax, I can reconfigure for any situation." She gave what she hoped he would interpret as a smile.
"And if you thought she could reconfigure…" Chatter flashed with green fire, becoming the four-legged unicorn she normally preferred when strangers were around. "I come in two flavors, but tonight you get dark." She flashed back, the three legged changeling once more. "Follow me, Ian." Her voice lost all hint of "cute" and delved into sultry.
Ian's eyes were glued to the changelings plot as she walked away; even the little hop that made up for her missing leg seemed to arouse him.
"What are you waiting for," Screech drew her torn wing back from where it had been supporting Ian's back, "go and hit that plot before I do."
Only a moment of conflict warred in Ian, and it was quickly lost to the amused look on Screech's face, and Click's urging for him to move. "Alright, alright." He trailed one hand against Screech's side as he got up, feeling the fingers of her ruined wing. Turning suddenly, he trotted off to the stairs, not realizing how close he came to getting a smack from Click.
As Ian reached the top of the stairs, he could only see one door open. Smiling, he moved quickly to the open doorway, only to see Chatter setting out a big rubber dildo. "I said I don't—"
"That's for me, silly. I am not yours to screw tonight, anyway. You are only allowed to orgasm in Click tonight." Chatter spat some glowing green goop on the black toy. "Consider it training for both of you."
"Training?" Ian felt a nudge from behind and tried to step out of Click Clack's way, but when he moved, she adjusted and pushing him, urging him deeper. "What is this?" He looked from one to the other.
Click looked up at Chatter. "Would mistress desire her pet disrobed?" She ignored Ian, her mechanical eyes locked on the changeling. A flick of her back-leg swung the door closed with a thud.
"Ian can take his clothes off himself, I think." Chatter smiled and rolled onto her back. "In fact, I insist. Take them all off now." The level of command she put into her voice sent a chill down her spine. She watched as it affected Ian in a completely different manner, although it had the main desired effect.
Ian's hands pushed his pants down, exposing his unclad groin. Mentally cursing his lack of underwear from the previous engagement, he slipped his shirt up and over his head. He couldn't stop thinking about how it affected him, being told to undress, and being expected to. He shivered, but not with cold.
"I want to play…" Click Clack walked around the side of Ian, and froze when she saw the size of his shaft. "With that… I want to play with that." She turned her head toward Chatter. "Please?"
Turning on the bed, sitting up, Chatter had her back-end hanging over the edge of the bed. "You can have him when he puts my toy in." She waved her tail-fin from side to side in excitement.
It was all up to Ian. He walked over to where the big insertable toy rested and picked it up by its base. Green slime covered it from tip to base now, smearing on his hand as he turned it around in the air. "Uh, where do you want me to put it?" His eyes were suddenly glued to Chatter's plot, watching her clitoris wink a few times enticingly. Holding the toy close, he rubbed the oddly squishy chitin of Chatter's plot, before pushing the toy into her tail-hole.
"There…" Chatter groaned and chirped her wings together in delight. "Oh right there. Good boy Ian." She squeezed her muscles down on the big shape inside her. The tapered base of the toy ensured that she could grip it and hold the thing within. "Good boy. Click, your turn."
Click crawled between Ian's legs, putting him off-balance. "Hey, what are—" He got no further, falling forward at a shove from Click's back, dropping him down to all fours. She kept wriggling, then rolled over so they were belly-to-belly.
"Lay down on me, Ian." Click adjusted herself, lining up the right mechanical bits for where she expected Ian's shaft would end up.
As Ian lay down, he felt Click's oddly warm chassis press against his belly and chest, but his focus was lower. He didn't see what happened, but Click's lower belly opened up and a receptacle reached up and out of her to latch on to Ian's length. Groaning appreciatively, Ian relaxed a little more, pressing his groin down against Click.
"All of you. There, I have locked onto your penis now." Click smiled up and nuzzled Ian with her cheek. The lightweight design of her under-chassis might make her look very mechanical and exposed, but Click Clack had installed some modifications. She cycled her stimulator, watching Ian's face as she practically gulped at his shaft.
"How is she? Tight? Has she locked you up completely yet?" Chatter reached her single foreleg down, rubbing between her back legs. "Tell me when she does…" She trailed the last word out, almost singing it into two syllables.
Tight pressure clamped around the base of Ian's balls. As that device closed around his precious flesh, he realized it wasn't so much a ring around their base, as something that held them completely. "C-C-Click?"
Click had just finished attaching herself to Ian's groin, and smiled widely. "Let me grip on." She flexed her limbs, her legs loosing what shape they had before pulling tight, fastening herself to him with nothing more than two tight hugs. "Mistress Chatter, he is all ready."
Ian's eyes were wide, Click Clack had formed herself into a living vest against him. "What are you doing?" He looked down his body, trying to see what Click was doing at his groin. Her first stroke started, that sleeve she had worked around his shaft contracting and squeezing him. All Ian could do was groan in pleasure.
"Click, you started without me?" Chatter sprawled a little more, reaching out with one of her back legs. "Light it, Ian. Tickle my limb and feel as Click Clack works away on you. Click, give him an orgasm."
"What is she doing?" Ian lifted a leg and kicked instinctively as Click started to massage his shaft over and over. He rocked in place, the massage feeling better and better. Looking up, his eyes half-glazed in pure bliss, he spotted Chatter's hoof right before his nose. It was easy to relax, he nuzzled at the limb and licked at the hole closest to her hoof. The hoof tasted oddly of sweet candy, and the scent matched the assessment.
Squeezing and massaging Ian's shaft, Click Clack worked at him, milking his shaft slowly, building her pace up. She worked her stallion into a good speed, felt him rocking with each stroke, but she wanted more from him. Squeezing at his balls, Click head Ian whimper.
Chatter struggled against the delight of having her hole licked out, and realized what Click was doing. "Ian, if you want to stop, just say 'red' as loudly as you can." She rubbed her hoof around Ian's jaw, loved how his tongue continued to trace her holes.
"I-Is there a…" Ian's words trailed off at a particularly firm squeeze from Click, "there a word for…" again he lost track due to her attention, "faster?" Rubbing his cheek against Chatter's leg, he worked his tongue into one of the smaller holes near her knee, almost getting out the other side.
"Trace up her leg, pay attention to all of her holes." Click clung to Ian, but when he was too slow in doing what she asked, she extended one back leg up and back, then brought it down across his rear. "I gave you a command."
Ian's eyes were wide, he felt Click's limb raise again and started moving. Licking up Chatter's leg brought happy chirps from the mare's wings. Doing what Click told him seemed to be exactly what Chatter wanted, too. He nuzzled the inside of her spread back legs, then licked up her sweet-tasting chitin to her softer parts.
Chatter squealed in pleasure as Ian's tongue ran up her rear lips. Her single forehoof rubbed his small mane of hair and urged him on. "There you go… right… right there." Her words kept trailing off into little squeals and chitters of pleasure.
Click felt the exact moment Ian started his climax. His body tightened in her grip, and she felt his shaft swell just a little more. She held very still, leaving him hanging on the edge. At last, fearing he would slip back down, she squeezed his balls and pulled on them a little.
Pleasure overwhelmed Ian. Normally he would have just rutted a mare into his release, but Click had done things very different. She was in complete control of his release, not rubbing his shaft any further as he groaned into Chatter's vulva.
With her stallion ending his release, Click Clack gathered all his issue, funneling it into a special tank inside her body. She wasn't full, not by half, so she encouraged Ian with a gentle puff of a very special scent.
"Another, Click. Milk him until you are full." Chatter closed her back legs down, gripping each side of Ian's face, holding him just back from her body.
Pink puffs of something sprayed from Click's snout and right into Ian's face. Her coughed, even squirmed a little in Chatter's tight grip. He felt a wet heat grow in the pit of his stomach, and rush downwards. "What is that?" Speaking only meant Ian inhaled more of the substance that was driving his shaft back to full hardness. As the massage started again, he pushed forward, fighting with Chatter's grip so he could pleasure her.
"That will keep you hard for hours." Click gave a happy little mechanical giggle. "Mistress wants you milked." She started stroking him again, feeling him quickly push to high pleasure again.
Ian's groan echoed off the walls of Chatter's depths as his body was driven onward. He knew he could stop Click at any time with his safe word, but that idea quickly left his head; who needs safe words when you were having such fun? He rocked in place, giving himself to his growing pleasure, and Chatter's heat.
"Tell me when he goes." Chatter rolled her hips into each lick now, letting out little moans and chirps. Her magic lifted the crop up high, behind Ian.
"Now." Click felt Ian push over the limit, his body unloading into her storage tank again. The first strike of the crop on Ian's rear made him jump, the second had him bucking even faster, trying to get more pleasure from Click's milking.
Nothing worked. No matter what Ian tried, nothing could change the pace that Click was setting. His rear felt fiery hot now, but neither of the mares seemed inclined to let up on him. After basking in the delicious mix of pleasure and pain they were forcing upon him, he felt his body react once more, pushing hard into Click's milking system. A smile creased Ian's lips and his normal thoughts fled as he started licking, nuzzling, even nibbling; in the desire to make Chatter feel as wonderful as he did.
Ian woke up without the tight, binding embrace of Click Clack. Yawning, he reached up to his mouth only to find his arms were held down, wrapped in the tight grip of some kind of big, leathery wing. His first thought was that it was Chatter, until he spotted Screech's form in the bed beside him, her telltale shredded wing on the other side.
"Solid said we weren't to do anything while you slept, but I don't think she would be upset with a hug. Are you?" Screech's smile showed off sharp fangs to her bedmate.
"No." Ian didn't have to think about the question at all, particularly when she slowly drew her wing back, letting him free. "What happened to Chatter and Click?" The result of waking up male was apparent under the covers, and while Ian was a little embarrassed about it, Screech didn't even appear to notice it.
"Chatter was on for the morning shift, and Click had to shut down for a little while—she gets a little embarrassed about that. Just treat it like she really wanted to go and sleep on her own." Screech used the first two long fingers of her wing to stroke over Ian's chest and belly. "Chatter didn't want to just love you and leave you, so I offered to keep your bed warm."
Ian couldn't argue that she was doing a bad job of it, he was both cozy and warm. "Just keeping it warm?"
"And other things, if you might want to." Screech leaned in and nuzzled against Ian's shoulder, opening her lips and rubbing the front of her fangs against his soft flesh. "Do you want to know what I like in a stallion?"
"I think I know where this is going. Do you want a stallion who you can show who's boss?" Those long fingers of Screech's good wing worked their way slowly south, tickling the curly hair of his chest and belly. Lifting one hand Ian touched her soft wing membrane, traced it to the fingers of the wing and felt them.
"That would be my sisters." Screech closed her eyes and leaned forward to lay her chin on Ian's chest. "I like a stallion who takes charge, who is open and caring, and who will play with me as he wishes."
The confession shocked Ian for a moment, but while his brain was confused about the words, his body reacted to them predictably by pulling her wing down further. When the soft folds of her wing membrane touched his shaft, Ian gave a little groan. "You seem so different out there…"
"Who I am and what I do in public is not who I wish to be in here, with my mate in bed with me." Screech opened her mouth and teased at one of Ian's nipples with her lips. Under the covers, she started to slowly stroke him, building him with timed caresses toward a destination she craved. "So, what would you have me do?"
So far all the ponies he had been with had definite ideas on what they wanted from Ian: Solid wanted a naughty foal, Click wanted a creature to explore, Chatter wanted to be in complete control, and both Rake and Snaps were totally into the dominance game at a whole new level, but Screech asked him. "First, I want to kiss you." He saw her eyes flash with excitement, pupils narrowing down to tight slits.
Tilting her head up, Screech closed her eyes and pursed her lips to Ian. She couldn't hold back the little sigh of pleasure when he kissed her, and instinctively closed her grip around his length. Stroking him, she parted her teeth carefully to his probing tongue.
Snaps hadn't been interested in gentle kisses, and Chatter had only kissed him on her own terms; with Screech, Ian got to slowly explore her mouth, tongue finding the sharp points of her teeth, and he could taste copper from the now myriad of little pricks.
Opening her eyes, Screech looked into Ian's and smiled. She saw hunger, passion, and need. Closing her lips down against his tongue, she sucked on him slowly and worked her wing a little faster. She watched his eyes squeeze down sharply, felt his body tighten beside her and knew what he was going through. She bit very gently, not hurting his tongue, but slowly working her front teeth down it as she pulled free of his lips. "Do you require cleaning?"
Ian was gasping and panting, now that his mouth was free. He didn't care about the mess, not really, but he heard something in Screech's voice that tipped him off that she had an idea; after what she had just done for him, how could he turn her down? "I do. You made quite a mess. Clean it up."
Screech's ears twitched, her little tuft-tips flicking as she bobbed her head. "Of course." With her damaged wing, she tossed the covers from the bed to reveal that Ian had painted part of her good wing, as well as his lower belly. His flagging maleness made her mouth water, but first she pulled her wing up to her snout. Inhaling deeply, Screech extended her tongue and sampled his issue.
The sight of the powerful mare cleaning herself, lapping his seed from her own wing excited Ian all over again. If it had been with Snaps, he knew he would have grabbed her and started trying to screw her all over again. "Give me your other wing."
"Of course." The phrase meant a lot to Screech. It implied that whatever Ian said would be more important than her own wants, and that his word was law to her. Stretching her "naked" left up and out, she showed Ian the ripped membrane that had exposed her end two fingers all the way up to her hand, and the shreds of membrane that spider-webbed down her last two digits. Flying was a dream to her now, but her melancholy thoughts were broken as Ian licked her first finger.
The scar tissue was old, leaving the wing's hand looking like it had two long spindly fingers and a thumb. Ian traced one scar from the tip of the first digit all the way up to Screeches wing-hand. He closed his eyes as he reached the juncture of the fingers, but snapped them wide again when he heard Screech moan. He blinked at her. "You really like that, huh?"
"Y-Yes." Screech had tingly sensations racing up and down her damaged wing. When Ian licked the same finger again, she whimpered out loud. "It feels really good…"
"You need to clean your other wing, still." Ian had a wide smile as he saw dawning realization on Screech's face that she had been derelict in her duty. "Good girl, clean us up and we can play more." He waited until her muzzle reached her good wing, then licked up the second finger.
Screech gave her namesake, her eyes closing as she pulsed out a wave of high-frequency sound. She began to lick faster and faster, cleaning her good wing off and starting on Ian. Lapping her tongue along his softly furred belly, she nuzzled against him so that she wiped some of his seed onto her lips and snout.
As he ran his tongue down the scarred edge of Screech's third finger, Ian found one of the ripped holes in what remained of her wing membrane. On a hunch, he traced his tongue down to the hole and licked the edge of it. The pulsing waves of ultrasonic sound Screech made as a reaction made Ian's body tremble in an odd way—an oddly nice way.
"S-S-Slow down… please…" Screech barely got the words out before she squealed again. The heady scent combined with the attention to her wing had her mouth opening and pressing down around Ian's shaft, capturing the growing shape in her maw.
Ian froze for a second. His memory rushed back how prickly Screech's mouth had been for his tongue to explore, and now she had his penis in there. The first suck she gave him, her throat vibrating as she poured high-frequency sound into his flesh, eared a groan of pleasure from him, but when she started a pattern, sucking and screeching sound into him, he grabbed her wing and started to lick and kiss each scarred digit.
Swirling her tongue over Ian's shaft, Screech no longer cared about slowing down. She worked at the growing shaft in her mouth, her entire focus on giving pleasure without pricking him. She bobbed her head up and down, and just as she got her snout pressed to his groin he slid her long thumb into his mouth, sucking on it heedless of the sharp claw on the end. Screech couldn't hold back, he hadn't even touched her mound, but all the foreplay with her wing sent her crashing into an orgasm.
"Mmm…" Ian closed his eyes and trusted Screech completely now. Even in the grip of her climax not a single sharp tooth grazed him, all she did was suckle at his shaft faster and faster. Pressure built quickly inside him, and before he even felt her stop twitching from the crest of her own release, he was plunged into his.
Screech felt the shaft in her mouth pulse, and snapped her eyes open to see Ian buck against her mouth. She curled her lips around his shaft as he started to pump his second load for the morning right into her throat. Keeping her breathing focused, Screech managed to keep him in her mouth for the duration of his release, drinking him down to the last drop. She only pulled back at last when she was sure he was finished. Lapping at his shaft, she gave a happy little screeching sound, almost a warbling of high-pitched noise.
"That was pretty amazing, Screech." Ian looked down his body at the mare, meeting her eyes with his own. He took a deep breath and licked her relaxed left wing, tracing one of the holes in her membrane. "I want to sign, but I need to check the details. I have seen a lot of these contracts that amounted to not much more than slavery…"
"Do you think I want a slave?" Screech smiled enough to show off her fangs. "Ian, in case you hadn't noticed, I care for you, quite a lot. You fit in here, and I want to get to know you more and more. I want to learn every little thing you like, and let you learn the same about me. I want that time, Ian."
"Yeah, me too." Taking a deep breath, Ian poked Screech in the side. "And I might actually go downstairs and talk about it if there wasn't a naughty bat laying half on top of me."
"When was I naughty?" Screech protested the claim as she struggled out of the mess of blankets and onto the floor. "I was a perfect lady the whole time!"
"Even when you couldn't stop yourself from sucking my dick?" Ian was now well and truly flaccid after two orgasms in quick succession.
"That was me being perfect. The "lady" part was when I snuggled you and kept you warm." Screech lifted up Ian's pants from the floor and flicked them over to him. "Catch!"
"Thanks!" Ian snatched the clothing out of midair and started pulling them on. "I really need to get somepony to make me some new things, I think Snaps would like it very much if she could tear them off each time…"
"Sounds like her. Why don't you put that into the contract, then? If we are going to be so much work to maintain, you deserve more than a little compensation." Screech opened the door as Ian pulled his shirt on. "Come on, leave the bed for Chatter to deal with."
Ian shrugged and followed Screech out and down the stairs. In the taproom, he saw that all the mares that were chasing him were present: Chatter was behind the bar, Click Clack was using some kind of machine to split firewood for the fire, while Snaps and Rake were play-fighting in the big open area.
"Ah, and here they are." Solid smirked at Ian. "I assume you woke up well, but how did you sleep?" She had her broken horn burning with magic, writing in the ledger book for the bar.
"Considering how tasty both of them are, I assume they slept and woke very well." Chatter was using her magic to clean some glasses. "And if I am a getting good at judging Ian—and I like to think I am—then he 'woke up well' twice." The smirk on the changeling's snout was wide, showing off her prominent fangs.
"He wants to talk about the contract." Screech swayed a little as she walked over to the bar. "Something with some sugar in it," she winked at Chatter, "because I have had my protein already."
"Here you go, batty." Chatter poured a long glass of apple juice. "But important stuff now; you want to talk about it?" She turned her question to Ian.
"Yeah. I assume you have all made up your side of things?" Ian looked around at the mares, getting a firm nod from every single one. "Right, because I want to put my own demands down as well." He sat down at the table Solid Built was at, opposite the big mare. As if ready for the moment, Solid slid a multi-page contract before him.
~~~~~+++++~~~~~
Stallion Contract
This is a binding contract between the stallion known as Ian , and the mare(s) listed. Solid Built. Click Clack. Chatter. Rake. Snaps. Screech.
This contract will list the duties and responsibilities of each party to the other, as well as limiting its duration or not, as needed.
Please cross out all that do not apply:
The contract has no ending clause The contract will be fulfilled when any/all of the following are achieved (cross out any)
The contract is fulfilled when all parties agree it is
The contract is fulfilled when any party agrees it is
The contract is fulfilled when all parties' needs are met
The contract is fulfilled in ___ days (please specify)
The needs of the mare(s) (attach extra paper as needed):
Solid Built
Solid requires her stallion to be ready, at any time, for comforting hugs, cuddles, and to be her little foal when she needs him to be. On top of these requirements, her stallion is required to submit to any and all coddling and spoiling behavior. She also requires at least one foal to be sired.
Click Clack
Click Clack requires her stallion to teach her the wonders of his form, to allow her to investigate his body, and permit her to play with any and all parts of him as she sees fit, so long as no lingering harm is caused. Additionally, she will not require any permission from her stallion for the use of any fluids she might harvest from him.
Chatter AKA Wobbles.
Chatter wants a happy and healthy food source in her stallion. Her stallion is required to report to her whenever he feels down or unhappy. She requires her stallion to play her games as both dominant and/or submissive as required. She also requires at least one nymph to be sired.
Note: For the sake of this document, "Pack" is defined as the mares Rake and Snaps only.
Rake
Rake demands her stallion be the pack leader and mate of her sister, to always remind her of how dominant he is, and share any lovemaking the pack might partake in with her and her sister both. She also requires at least one foal to be sired.
Snaps
Snaps wants an alpha to match her, to please her, to challenge her. She wants her stallion to be ready and willing to stand up against external threats beside her, and to always have both pack and herd in mind. She also requires at least one litter of pups to be sired.
Screech
Screech requires her stallion to be himself, to always come to her when things are going wrong, and to always allow her the chance to make everything better. She wants her stallion to act as a stallion should and take her as he wishes. She wants him to enjoy every part of her body, so she might enjoy his. She requires her stallion to be dominant to her. She also requires at least one foal to be sired.
~~~~~+++++~~~~~
Ian read down the first page, then flipped over to the second and read the requirements of each of the mares listed. "Okay, and I can write what I want, in here?" There was some room under where Screech had entered her own desires. He briefly looked over at the mare, startled that he had formed such a tight bond with her so quickly.
"Normally, a stallion doesn't put anything on this, don't know why they don't." Solid smiled and passed Ian the quill she had been using. "Write it there, dear, and be careful you don't smudge it." The tone she used was that of a mare for a foal, and she loved the blush it caused Ian to get.
The needs of the stallion: Ian
Ian needs a warm and caring place to live, food, and the company of friends. His movement will not be restricted in any way except during the fulfilling of any of the listed mares' needs. He will further require clothing and a lot of hugs. He wants to always feel loved and cared for, he wants to be able to be useful in capacities outside of the strict requirements of this contract.
He hesitated a little and then added an extra bit on the end.
He wants to be loved.
"You will be, trust me on that." Solid reached a hoof over and rested it beside Ian's arm so she was touching him. "And now we have to decide how long this will last. If you wanted to, we could have it as an initial contract, and then negotiate on a more long-term one later."
Ian stared at the options. "Yeah, I like the idea of that, but I also want this binding for us. I want some stability right now, and I think you do as well." He looked into Solid's eyes, and watched her head bob up and down.
The contract has no ending clause The contract will be fulfilled when any/all of the following are achieved (cross out any)
The contract is fulfilled when all parties agree it is The contract is fulfilled when any party agrees it is
The contract is fulfilled when all parties' needs are met
The contract is fulfilled in 500 days (please specify)
"Are you sure? That will mean you are bound to us for a year and a bit." Solid looked deep into Ian's eyes and saw the determination there. "I love you already, Ian." She smiled a big, goofy grin. "You don't need to sign to get that. Forget it if you want, you can just live—" She stopped talking as Ian's quill scratched his name along the bottom of the contract, just under her own. "Welcome home."
Ian looked around at the mares around him. The old fear that the other shoe would drop, and they would turn on him and use him as a slave was faint, but still there. What he got instead was a bat wing curling around him, quickly followed by forelegs of the mares he was now bonded to.
"Thank you, Ian." The words were repeated, and in one case even growled, all around Ian, until he had heard each of the mares say it. The warmth and love from them shattered the fear into meaninglessness.
"What now?" Wishing for more arms for hugging, Ian had to content himself with swapping targets, making sure to squeeze everypony tightly.
"Now I buck you until you can't move!" Chatter gave her hips a thrusting motion. "And then I will cast a spell that will get you going again, and we can buck some more!" Everypony stared at her, even Ian. "What? It would be great fun!"
Ian slipped to the edge of the group while they berated Chatter. Snaps stared at him; her eyes glowing green. Words wouldn't work with her, he knew, so he leaned forward and rubbed his cheek against hers. The touch of her wood was oddly soft, and Ian could feel warmth from Snaps' body through the touch. Heat stirred within, and without realizing it he was nuzzling her cheek again and again.
With a wuff of breath against Ian's neck, Snaps lapped at her new mate's throat. He smelled good, he felt good, and for a non-wolf he knew how to act around her. And any slight mistakes could be trained out of him.
Rake's voice was the first to filter through to Ian and Snaps. "Okay, so we get him the fertility talisman, and then he gets to pick?" The mare's attention turned to Ian and Snaps, and her heart melted a little at seeing the pair in such a cozy little snuggle.
"Hey, Ian!" Chatter's voice rose over the others'. "Who are you going to get pregnant first?" The talking stopped, as all eyes focused on Ian.
"Well, I think—" Ian was cut off by another lick, this one along the side of his face. He didn't berate Snaps, just nuzzled her cheek a little more. "Solid. She took me in, she brought me here…"
Solid Built beamed at Ian. "Best day of my life so far. Come on, my colt, we have to get you a new shiny thing, and some supplies." She lifted up a huge hoof, and gentle as can be, booped Ian on the nose.
The big mare was too adorable to shy away from, and when her hoof—gentle as can be—touched his nose, Ian felt a warm excitement spread through him. "Well, let's get these things put away, and go!"
With a flurry of activity, Ian and the mares cleaned the plates and contracts off the table, and with companionable chatter got things put away. Ian blushed at each casual touch, but only because he knew most were from Chatter, and most were far from casual.
"Ooops!" Chatter's thin and soft wing brushed past Ian's groin for nearly the fifth time, and she was more than happy to see her efforts being rewarded. With her changeling senses, she reached out and gently sipped at the bounty of arousal and love within Ian. "Sorry again. I am just so clumsy today!"
The constant groping and rubbing was driving Ian the good kind of crazy, and before Chatter could get away again, he pressed his mouth against hers in a tight kiss. An odd sensation of her sucking at him flowed over him for a moment, and then her tongue pushed into his mouth, countering the strong advance with her own claim. Ian found his hand reaching down to her shoulder, stroking where her missing leg was, even as her tongue incited his gag reflex.
When Ian pulled back from her, coughing, Chatter giggled. "Got a strong gag reflex, huh? We will work on that." She was full as a changeling could get, and could still taste love from Ian despite her pushing a little too far.
"Are you two done making out?" Solid's voice held no accusation, merely the question. "If you are, send my colt out so we can go and get things moving." She walked out of the kitchen.
"I better go…" Ian's coughing had gone down while Solid spoke, and he risked kissing Chatter on the cheek again. "Hold those thoughts for when I get back." The chirp his words, and kiss, coaxed from Chatter fixed a big smile on Ian's mouth.
As Ian stumbled into the taproom, he saw Screech working the bar, keeping the few early patrons well watered, and by the front door Solid was waiting. "Come on, my colt." She shook her big head and used what magic she had to open the door and head out.
Feeling like the foal she named him, Ian gave a laugh and followed. "So where do we get this talisman, or potion, or whatever it is?" He walked beside Solid, feeling dwarfed by her size even though they were the same height—Solid just had a lot more mass.
"It is both. A potion that binds the talisman to you, then the talisman can be activated to make you fertile for a period of time." Solid used her magic to straighten up Ian's clothes. "Of course, there are a few side effects when it is activated."
"Let me guess, increased sex drive?" Ian rolled his eyes, it was so cliché, but in this world he had stumbled into it was completely believable.
"Yes. The talisman takes a small bit of magic to activate and deactivate, Click would be the best to keep hold of it. Her systems run on magic, she could integrate the control into herself and adjust your fertility as needed." Solid Built's path didn't take them towards the normal market, but to a specialty shop.
Unmarked, the shop had nothing in the windows, and looked for all the world like it was closed. When Solid used her magic to push at the door, it opened to reveal a brightly lit interior. "Hi there and welcome to Major Magic. Is there something I can help you with today?" A pony with a huge cloak on was behind the counter, her cowl pulled far enough forward that not a single piece of fur was visible.
"Terry, this is Ian." Solid gestured to Ian. "He is the 'stallion' I was telling you about. Do you still have that talisman and the binding potion for it?" She turned and gave Ian a wide, welcoming smile. "This is Terry. She specializes in magic that… that isn't native to Equestria."
Ian focused on the strange pony, but try as he might he couldn't see hide nor hair of her. "It's nice to meet you, Terry." The name was obviously either fake, or a nickname. "Can you explain exactly what this talisman will do?"
"Smart. Not something that is overly evident in ponies these days." Terry's voice had an odd sucking note to it at the end of each word, like her mouth was malformed. "The talisman will be bound to you with a typical potion of binding. Once linked, it will be linked forever and a day, if you catch my meaning." Ian nodded dutifully. "The possessor of the talisman can use magic to activate and deactivate it, causing you to become fertile, or not. When you are fertile, you will lose… a little control. If you just relax, you could find yourself having sex with anything…" Her tone was meaningful, and from the bottom of the cloak a single tentacle slipped free, then pulled back.
"Do you understand that, Ian?" Solid looked into Ian's eyes, searching for the truth in his next words.
"I… I do. How do we do it?" Ian looked up from where he had spotted a tentacle at the base of Terry's cloak, and focused on the cowl.
"You hold that," Terry nodded her head towards a small golden square, "and then drink the potion beside it." Sure enough, on the same shelf as the gold square was a thin vial. "And give that talisman only to one you trust."
Solid pulled out a single note of paper, and slid it across the counter. "As agreed, Terry." She gave a sigh at the large sum of bits listed on the promissory note. She watched as Ian picked up the square of gold, and the potion. Her heart beat faster, and she thanked her lucky stars again that he stumbled into her life.
The metal was marked with odd runes, odder even than pony writing. Ian examined both sides, and found more runes on the rear. He turned his attention to the vial next, and uncorked the top. The most horrible smell he had ever experienced hit his nose, and his gag reflex triggered for a completely different reason. "This is horrible! What died to make this?"
"A fish." Terry answered the joke, rhetorical question plainly. "It needed to fester a while before it could be used. I am told that a strong spirit will wash the taste away quite quickly. I have some if you wish?"
"Yeah…" While Ian watched Terry gesture to a bottle behind the counter, he tipped the potion up and drank it down. It tasted worse than it smelled, and he screwed his eyes shut and coughed violently. Something hard was pressed to his lips, and a vaguely salty, alcohol-hot liquid rushed over his palate.
"If this is a bad joke, Terry, it just became unfunny." Solid held Ian in her magic, tipping the seaweed wine away from his lips. "Well?"
"Give it a moment. I am doing this at cost price, remember." Terry's voice sounded a little clipped, almost annoyed. "My talismans and potions work, and it wasn't a whole fish I used, anyway." The slightest hint of a smile from under the cowl was evident. Too many pointy teeth made a line of white from one side of the cowl to the other. "Only the guts, brain, and eyes."
A sharp jolt of magic arced through Ian, and in that moment he felt something very strange indeed. Horny. Really, really horny. It wasn't that he was aroused, it was that it was happening without any rhyme or reason. He looked up and regretted it; Terry was still smiling down at him, where he had crumpled onto the floor and then been cradled in Solid's magic. He turned away from her, and spotted Solid. The ache of need amplified, and he studied her face anew. Big eye that was like a pool he could drown in. He reached up to her face, the ruined side, and gently stroked his fingers over her scars.
"You have a day to verify results. If it doesn't work, bring him and the talisman back, and I will fix it." Terry's grin faded at mention of fixing. "Go now, I need to move again…"
Ian had no choice, Solid was carrying him, and she hefted him out of the shop and started walking back to the bar. "I need you, Solid…" Even to his own ears, his voice was a little pitiful. Just thinking about Solid, Chatter, Rake, Snaps, Screech, or even Click Clack had him growing more needy.
"There, there. The nasty old sea witch might not know how to season her potions, but she does good work. If it weren't for her, I would not have any magic at all." Solid clomped along, carrying Ian like a foal that had gotten too tired on a walk.
Pressed to Solid's side, Ian tried to ignore the feeling of need, tried to focus on anything else, but under his pants he was rock hard, aching, needing the relief only one of his mares could give him. He kept quiet, only making soft whimpers when Solid couldn't help but jostle him. Before long, she carried him into the bar.
"Clicks!" Solid's voice thundered through the bar, and everypony's head jerked up. She waited for the bot pony to rush out. "Ian, give her the talisman. While it is active, we are going to go and take care of a few things."
The prospect of being in Solid's care would have had Ian do nearly anything, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the square of metal, and passed it to Click Clack. A moment later, a rush of cool air seemed to spread through him, and he felt quenched like a hot sword in oil.
"Oh, it was already on?" Click looked at the talisman, and her hoof arced another little jolt of magic into it. "Sorry!"
Solid watched Ian's face go from relaxed to needy again, and she chortled. "I think my foal needs to get used to this new side of him." She hefted Ian up, and sat him on her back. "Come on, my colt, time to get you just what you want."
Ian couldn't help humping at Solid's back, wrapping his arms and legs around her barrel and gripping tight. He couldn't think straight, and felt movement carrying him somewhere. He trusted Solid so much, he really didn't care on the destination, but when it was her bedroom he was not about to complain.
"Not up to talking? That's fine. Come up on the bed." Solid didn't wait for Ian to follow her request, she plucked him off her back, curling him up a little, and climbed onto her bed. Settling down, she floated Ian closer.
When Solid's warm nose pressed to his belly, Ian couldn't stop from giggling and squirming. She repeated the process a few more times, and each had him giggle more, and grow more excited. Settling back on the bed, Solid pulled Ian up and against her body. He nestled against her torso, and felt safe, warm, and more horny than he had in his whole life.
Ian squirmed a little, wriggling against the big mare's side. "Are you getting fussy?" Solid didn't sound surprised. She poked at his belly with a hoof. "Does my little colt want something from his mommy?" When Ian only gave a little grunt, she poked her hoof a little lower, and stroked her frog along his rock-hard shaft. "Oh, or does my colt want to give his mommy something special?"
The touch to Ian's shaft was like an electric jolt. He couldn't hold still anymore, and squirmed, wriggled, and desperately tried to get Solid to touch his shaft again. She adjusted how he was laying, and something touched the tip of his length, causing him to buck his hips. Need quenched into lust, when Ian's shaft sank into Solid. He gave a low grunt and humped his hips forward again.
Solid looked down at her colt, and watched as he started to work himself into a frenzy. "You aren't going to last long, are you?" He seemed unable to focus on her question. "Has the talisman really stolen that much of your control?" She squeezed down on him, gripping his shaft in her soft depths. "Touch me, my colt. Touch your mommy…"
Ian complied with Solid's needs. He reached one hand down to rub her flat udder, his mind telling him that he would make that swell, as her belly swelled. His other hand reached up to stroke her cheek. Tracing the scars, he looked up her big body towards her face, and saw perfection.
"My colt!" Solid exclaimed loudly, and couldn't stop herself from bucking her hips as Ian exploded inside her. Her own climax didn't come, but she didn't care in the slightest. If sex had only been about racing to orgasm, she wouldn't enjoy it so much. "Come up here my foal, snuggle against your mommy." She pulled at Ian, dragging his still-hard shaft free of her vagina, and curled him up at her side. "Good colt… good boy…"
Completely spent, his body forcibly drained by the lust the talisman imposed on him, Ian just wanted to snuggle, and Solid was literally the best mare for doing just that. Big as he was physically, she was bigger, and softer.
Big as Ian was, Solid Built was bigger. Nothing illustrated the point more to him than how he woke. There was no light for Ian, because he was completely under the covers of the bed. One of his arms was wrapped around Solid's powerful back thigh, and his head was pressed in against her belly.
Comfort and calm was all around Ian. In his ears Solid's heartbeat played a steady rhythm. The conscious parts of his mind recalled her requirements from the contract, and his own. Shifting just a fraction, he felt something bump against his chin, then his lips. When wet warmth touched his skin, all the adult and civilized parts of his mind shut off. Ian opened his mouth for Solid's inexplicably lactating teat and sucked.
The milk was rich, creamy, and surprisingly pleasant to taste. Ian's instincts were in full control, and the actions every baby (human or pony) knows took over. His mouth worked, suckling and pulling the milk, and Ian even closed his eyes and felt himself relax into an almost-dream.
When Ian awoke again, his mouth was still working, but his target had changed. Thoughts stirred, and he couldn't help but feel loved beyond measure by the mare letting him drink of her body. Nerves, anxiety, and social taboos seemed unable to penetrate the perfect morning, and it wasn't until the flow of milk stopped that Ian started to really wake up. Releasing the teat with his mouth, Ian started to move about, only for magic to gently take hold of him and pull him up from under the covers.
Solid licked the milk froth from Ian's lips. She didn't want to talk, not yet, and so made sure to nuzzle and fuss about Ian obsessively like a mare with her foal. The connection forged with the human might seem strange to any other pony, but for her it was everything she had ever wanted.
Ian heard a peal of laughter while Solid was licking along his jaw and up behind his cheek, and snapping his mouth closed revealed it to be his own. "You can stop if you want, I think you got all the milk…" Ian's mind was already adding the next word. "… mommy."
"Nonsense. No colt of mine is going out looking dirty. Maybe I need to give you a bath?" Solid's tongue snaked out and traced along Ian's chin, moving upwards and flicking off his nose.
"Mommy," once said the word seemed natural to Ian, "I think I can handle that—" His words were cut off as magic plucked him up, pulling him from the bed. "Mom!"
Though one of her legs still pestered her in the mornings, Solid had a foal to take care of. "Don't be like that, my colt." She walked with a little prance in her gait, legs expressing the happiness she felt. It was a stretch for her limited magic, but she managed to get the bath running while still holding Ian.
Being bathed by a mare as a grown adult should have felt odd, even demeaning; Ian couldn't actually feel anything but the love and happiness of being taken care of. Solid didn't ask him to move about, she just gently lifted his arms and legs as needed, scrubbing and cleaning her "colt" until she seemed content.
For his part, Ian felt nearly every touch of the brush as tickling, and was giggling, laughing, and snorting adorably. But the bath couldn't last forever, and soon the brushes departed. "All clean?" Ian looked up at Solid.
"You are squeaky-clean, little Ian." Solid lifted Ian up and dumped him on some towels. Swapping her magic's grip to the soft cloth, she began to fluff the towels over Ian, drying him off in short order. "You know I used to use a spell to dry off…" Trailing off, Solid Built felt Ian's hand slide up from her muzzle, along her cheek, and trace up her face to what was left of her horn.
Ian marveled, not for the first time, at the fortitude his mommy must have had to handle the scars being inflicted. The marks were deep in places, and in others it looked like her flesh had been sanded smooth. No fur grew from the flesh so marked, and Ian's fingers were not stopped until he reached her destroyed horn. "Does it hurt?"
"You can touch it." Solid didn't answer the question and both of them knew it. She held her head steady as his soft fingers touched the broken stump.
The transition from flesh to bone was unusual. Solid's fur gave way to the soft, velveteen covering of her hard horn. Ian traced his fingers around the base of her ruined horn, feeling out that point where the flesh melted into the protuberance. No unicorn had let him just explore them like this, let alone one injured as Solid was. Dragging his eyes away from the horn, Ian looked to Solid's eyes as he felt slowly upwards, fingers finding the edge of the shattered horn. "It hurts you." He pulled his fingers away.
"Only a little, but it reminds me of a much greater pain. You can keep feeling it if you—" Solid stopped. Both of Ian's arms were wrapped around her neck, and the mostly dry human was hugged tight against her.
"It's okay, Mommy." Ian pressed his face—and more importantly his nose—into Solid's mane and inhaled. The warm mare smell, the delicate mix of scents that was uniquely "Solid Built," poured into his olfactory sense. "Maybe another time."
"Let's get you dressed." Solid's smile couldn't get any wider as she used her magic to float Ian's washed and dried clothing (cutesy of Screech sneaking in late at night) over. "I think Click Clack said she wanted to play with you next. She often has strange ideas, but I think you will find them fun."
"I wouldn't have signed if I didn't." Ian began pulling his clean and soft clothes back on, opting to do without shoes since he would likely be back in another of the mare's rooms shortly.
"You head down, mommy is going to take a bath. Let Chatter know I will be down in a few hours." Solid eyed the big bath still full of water, and was literally holding herself back from it by the barest thread of willpower.
"Okay Mommy." Ian took pleasure in the look of delight that flushed over Solid's face, he could even see her blush around the furless edges of those old scars. Part of him swelled up inside, tickled pink that he had made Solid so happy.
Walking out of the room, Ian's feet felt the hardwood floor under him with a unique newness. He inhaled deeply, clearing his nose of Solid's scent, only to pick up a lot more. The whirring, clicking voice of Click Clack came from the taproom below.
"When my bonded mate comes down, we may start."
The words intrigued Ian, and he made his way to the stairs and started padding down them. "Click what are…" His voice trailed off. The bar was almost full, all different creatures populating it. Ian spotted some diamond dogs, a minotaur, a group of very focused-looking earth ponies, as well as the mysterious pony who had sold Solid the potion and talisman. What startled him most, was every single patron in the taproom was female.
"And here he is." Click's precise words were no less understandable for being accompanied by mechanical sounds, and looking up at Ian she smiled widely. "My stallion, it was agreed that I had rights to your fluids." Her eyes wandered down from his, tracing his body and focusing on his groin. "I am going to auction the rights to some right now."
"Wait!" Ian was dumbfounded. "But that… I don't—" He staggered and leaned against the bar. An ache of need poured through his body, and Ian was forced to realize that the mechanical pony literally had control over his libido. "Please, Click, I'll do whatever you want!"
Click Clack reached one hoof up, tubes and levers actuating openly to move the joints of her leg. She cupped Ian's jaw. "My stallion, you will behave as I ask?" He nodded wordlessly. "Good boy."
Ian was a little cowed by the possessiveness of Click, but something about what she had planned was hitting his switches. The growing erection in his pants was only partly the talisman's fault. The rest of the arousal came at the sure knowledge that he had given control of himself to Click, not only with the contract, but also with magic.
"Ten bits!" The minotaur's deep voice stirred the crowd up. More bids came in, raising the amount in one bit increments.
"I have thirty bits from the two griffonesses in the corner. Taking bids in fives now." Click's words flowed, and she didn't let up on Ian. "Who wants to see what they are bidding for?"
The roar of approval washed over Ian, and despite his wanting to fight and struggle, he knew Click had the final say. Raising his arms, he let Click yank his shirt upwards and off.
"This stallion has already planted seed in one mare today. Solid Built, the owner of this establishment, is trying to cool off after he drilled her all night. She carries his foal." Click watched limbs shoot into the air and she started counting them. "Thirty-five, forty, forty-five, fifty."
Ian's skin felt on fire, and the scents of the excited females were slamming into his senses, stealing his control. He found himself taking a few steps towards the nearest female apart from Click, one of the diamond dogs. "She… she will do, Click…"
"No, Ian." Click turned off the talisman, dunking Ian into a metaphysical bucket of cold water. "You will buck who I say." Locking eyes with Ian, Click stared him down until he looked away. "Ladies, let's get serious. The bid stands at fifty, I will be taking bids of twenty bits or more only."
The diamond dog who Ian had been crawling towards lifted a paw. "Seventy for him to give me pups."
"Ninety." A hippogriff mare at the bar lifted a talon.
"One fifty." The cloaked figure at the bar was familiar to Ian, but a mystery as to her real form. Terry was the "pony" who had sold Solid the potion, and the creature was looking directly at Ian. "I will have you, if for just a night."
Groans ran around the bar. Excitement dropped to new lows as each of the bidders considered the amount too much for them to pay for a roll in the hay. Sensing she was losing potential customers, Click brought her forehooves together, arcing a jolt of electricity across them that grabbed all attention back to herself. "Next month, same day." She smiled as each of the ponies brightened. Turning to her mate, Click tapped at Ian's pants. "Off with those, you won't need them for Terry."
Ian felt a tingling, a gentle stroke of his libido. He realized it was Click playing with the talisman. Looking up at Click, Ian realized just how much this was turning him on, though he would not admit it out loud. "T-T-Terry? But we can go—"
"Terror Waves, please." Terror turned and walked over to Ian. "No need for nicknames here." She flicked back her hood, revealing a head that would have made any fine pony scream in panic. Terror had a vaguely pony-shaped head, but where normal—if larger than a human's—eyes should be, two huge orbs bulged from her head. Down from there and her snout was wider than a pony's, her every spoken word revealing row after row of sharp, pointed, and serrated teeth. She showed them off. "Like what you see?"
Mesmerized by the monster, Ian looked deep into her eyes and saw hunger and intelligence there. Something about her stirred a reaction in him that was a mix of disgust, interest, and arousal—the latter mostly being from the amulet.
"He will like what he sees more when you pay." Click held up a hoof, and a thick, gray tentacle reached up from under Terror's cloak to deposit a bag of bits on Click's hoof. "You are a respected merchant, Terry, so I won't count it."
Ian fell to his hands and knees, pleasure and embarrassment now warring in him now, looked at Terror and saw an odd beauty in her form. She was a monster, but she was built to be an amazing one. Sharp teeth that seemed ready to grab and never let go. Eyes that could track through the deepest, darkest waters. A sudden urge overwhelmed Ian to see what was under her cloak.
"Ian, take your pants off." Click gave the finer control she had established with the talisman a slight flick, and watched his body involuntarily hump. "Be good, Ian."
It was a game, Ian realized. Click was playing, but it was a game played for keeps, and he had already promised her he would always lose. "Y-Y-Yes, Click." His hands reached to his jeans, unfastening his belt, fly, and pulling the last vestige of modesty away. As his hands worked the pants off, Terror removed her cloak.
Everyone in the bar stopped and stared. Terror's tail was thick, the same pallid gray as the rest of her, and had what looked like a row of fins top and bottom, all the way to the end. Terror's body was sleek, thin, resembling a long eel from her neck down to her tail. Springing from her body was hundreds of tentacles; some were like the one that had passed Click her bits, others were much thinner. Her body revealed that, like the other mares of the inn, she had seen a rough life: scratches, marks, even the stump of a missing tentacle showed this.
Ian was harder than ever, and he couldn't blame Click's use of the talisman for all of it. His eyes were glued to Terror's tentacles, watching them move, watching them adjust and pass of her weight to another.
"Do you hate that your mare is making you do this?" Terror misinterpreted Ian's look completely. She studied the robotic mare next, but saw a silly grin on her face. "What?"
"I turned the talisman off once he took his pants off." Click leaned down and nuzzled Ian's cheek. Gesturing at Ian's rock hard erection, Click gave a sputtering clanking noise that was her laughter. "That is all for you, Terry."
"What?" Terror's huge eyes turned back to Ian, looking at his penis first, then up to his eyes. "No creature has ever looked upon me with anything but horror and disgust!" She couldn't not notice Ian's eyes move to her lips, looking down into the cavernous trap that was her mouth. "You… you really aren't afraid?"
With a shrug, Ian stood back up. "Afraid? Sure." He made a point of examining her, tracing her body from her fangs to her tail. "You could probably rip me apart with your tentacles, tear the leftover bits up with your teeth, and I would barely hurt you. But you didn't pay for that."
Click saw the shock register on Terror's face, then it slipped to something else—lust. "Here, have some help." Click turned the talisman to the maximum she had managed to experiment, and left it there.
The world narrowed around Ian, his body suddenly ached with the need for relief. He couldn't see or think of anything but Terror. Reaching out a hand, Ian stroked the puffy, gray flesh of her back. She was smooth, with a thin film of something slimy. Encouraged by her lack of protests, he stepped closer and brought his other hand to her back. Stroking along her spine, he felt myriad fins and spikes along the way to her tail.
Terror felt a burning need inside her. She had never encountered another of her kind, but in this creature she could make more of her own. She undulated her back, pressing her body against his searching hands.
A single small tentacle reached up and coiled around the wrist of Ian's stationary hand. Urging, tugging, it pulled his limb down, gathering his fingers into the squirming mass of her underside. She studied Ian's face all the while, seeing lust and amazement.
Each of Ian's fingers was coiled up by a tentacle, and each tentacle remained there for barely a moment, giving his digits a squeeze before releasing. It dawned on him, through the haze of his lust, that she was exploring him in her own way. He ran his free hand around her body and under her tail. In turn, Ian felt a tentacle coil around his penis, and he lost nearly all his focus.
"This sensitive already?" Terror was smiling for the first time since she moved to Canterlot—ignoring the few moments she gouged a customer of their bits, of course. She liked hearing the little sounds of animalistic pleasure that the human spilled when she worked a tentacle around his shaft. "Maybe I should just take what I have paid for?"
Ian's eyes widened, and he let out a gasp of shock as Terror rushed at him. Tentacles reached for his body as she landed on him, and when he expected to fall sharply to the floor he found himself being suspended under the monster by her tentacles. He wanted to beg, to ask her to be gentle, but the way she worked over him, each tentacle making itself acquainted with his penis, he had no willpower to put a sentence together.
Terror had never had sex before, but her body was already making up for lost time. Pulling Ian up tight against her belly, she guided his shaft to where she knew her vent was.
Feeling almost like a toy, Ian shaft was slowly divested of tentacles moments before something hot and tight pressed to his tip. Her lips kissed him, and while they seemed burning hot, seemed nothing if not inviting. Ian didn't wait. Proving he was an active partner in the "deal," he bucked his hips.
Terror's eyes bugged, somehow, wider than normal. She gnashed her huge mouth at the air, her fangs clashing together. The feel of Ian shoving into her body overwhelmed every effort towards caution she had built over her lifetime. She pulled at him, and pushed a thin tentacle into his rear, impaling him as he did her.
The incentive invading his anus didn't distract Ian, and he wrapped his arms around Terry, lifting his legs and grabbing hold. He pulled, hefting himself up and into Terror, shoving his body deep into hers. The need burning inside was more than enough to encourage him to start humping, and he was rewarded with the strangest little squeaking sounds he had ever heard.
Undulating her body, Terror realized how tangled they were, and how much control Ian held over her. She hated it. She loved it. She closed her huge eyes, blocking the world out as the thick shape inside her kept drilling in and withdrawing. Lashing her tail in bliss, Terror opened her mouth and squeaked a little louder with each thrust, encouraging her "stallion" to greater efforts.
Ian's muscles started to burn at the effort to keep his pace up. When he outright faltered, Terror's grip tightened around him, lifting him up and assisting him. The crowd in the taproom was noise now, just a background that didn't matter in the least. His body worked quickly towards its limit, but he wanted to give Terror something special.
Even with the tentacle teasing around his ass, Ian fought the need for release, and started stroking up and under Terror's body, finding places that made her many limbs squirm wildly. He learned the places that made her writhe, and used his knowledge.
Terror trembled in place as Ian expertly began rubbing her in places she didn't even know were sensitive. She almost dropped him as he found one particular spot, nearly every tentacle squirming in delight. On his next thrust, her rising pleasure broke like a wave at the beach. Heat poured through her body, and Terror gnashed her teeth at the air as she squeezed Ian against her body tightly.
The sudden tightness and sounds Terror made were Ian's signal, and he relaxed into the release that had been building. It would have been a slow, warm climax, but the talisman slammed him with his pleasure, shoving him hard into a wild bucking action to deliver his magically potent seed into the monster above him. Ian grunted with each thunderous thrust he gave, his prostate pumping the rich ejaculate deep into Terror.
For the first time in her life, Terror's tentacles gave out under her and she fell onto Ian. The fall only served to drive his shaft more firmly into her clutching depths.
Ian was sprawled on a bed of Terror's tentacles. The first thing he could really think about—after the mind-blowing orgasm—was how light she was. Leaving one leg hooked around behind her, he rolled to his side and pinned the monstrous mare under him. The talisman was still screaming at him, using his libido as its voice, and all he could do was obey it. Rocking his hips, Ian began the dance again.
Terror squealed as Ian returned to action, and she tried to react weakly with her tentacles, but all the fight had literally been screwed out of her. Blinking her huge eyes, she looked up at Ian and, if not love, fell in lust with him.
Click circled around the pair, taking her place behind the bar again. "Now, can I help anypony?" She was able to ignore the wet, sucking sounds of fornication, the deep grunts and high-pitched squeals, but some of the patrons seemed a little distracted.
"Uh…" One of the diamond dogs was trapped, staring at Ian screwing the sea monster on the floor. "I… I um… next month, you said?"
"Yes. Next month another auction." Click saw pure hunger in the canine's looks at Ian, but Click honestly didn't care, she had picked up on Ian's kink, and she would not let him down in fulfilling it.
Despite the strange look of Terror Waves' body, Ian had definitely found arousal in her touch. He was curled up in a bed, still deep in her body, and was learning to like the feel of her tentacles gently exploring him. His body reacted, and he pulled her upper body closer to him. "More?"
"I… I think I am pregnant…" Terror's voice sounded like bubbling water as she laughed. "Wait!" Her shock at Ian's enthusiasm turned to confusion as he rolled her onto her back. As his body drew up, out, her voice trailed off to a soft sigh.
Ian smiled at the strange mare. "You paid Click for my services." The knowledge that Click was in full control of his libido was more than a little thrilling, but Ian was beyond caring if it was the bot pony's work that made him horny or his own enjoyment of the situation. He crashed down against Terror, pushing himself fully inside her again. As her tentacles slowly roamed up and down his body, he began to set a pace that wasn't hurried. "Besides…" His voice was sharp, coming between thrusts. "I owe you for the… thingy…"
Terror laughed in her burbling fashion. "Thingy?" Arching her back up into his thrusts, she met the virile male halfway. "Thingy? That 'thingy' was a lot of work!" The speed of his thrusts sped up, and Terror couldn't get more words out.
Bucking his hips down, filling the mare's strange body with his hard shaft again and again, Ian leaned in and kissed her wide mouth. His pace faltered when a tendril found his rear again, but he neither minded nor wanted her to stop her invasion of him.
Regaining his pace, Ian had barely a moment to realize that the tentacle in his ass was touching something very sensitive before his world imploded. Pleasure ripped through him, and Ian's hips took over, slamming into Terror as fast and as hard as they could.
Neither of the pair could stop; Terror adored the feeling of her lover losing control, and Ian had little thoughts in his head at all as Terror massaged his prostate. But the ride couldn't last forever. Shoving his tongue into Terror Waves' mouth, Ian licked the flat front of her saw-blade teeth, just as he exploded.
The hot rush of fluid inside Terror pushed her past any attempts to hold back. She squirmed and writhed. She squeezed Ian's prostate a little harder, as lightning shot through her body. Every part of her was on fire with pleasure.
Ian's body almost seemed controlled by Terror. She pressed at his prostate, and he bucked a little more. But like it or not, his refractory period was washing in on him, and Ian slumped into the grip of Terror's tentacles.
Terror felt like her blood was on fire. She tangled Ian up, and kissed him back with her deadly mouth. "You… you are insati… insa… buck you are good…" She blinked her huge eyes up at the distracted male atop her.
The pair of them lay together, tangled up with each other and unwilling to move. But almost at the same moment, both their bellies grumbled about the need for food. Ian roused from the delightful slumber first. The slight itch of need was not quite as strong anymore, and he realized that Click Clack was giving him a message that it was time to leave the poor sea monster be.
"Ohhhh…" Terror's back arched as Ian started pulling up and away. Her huge eyes watched him perfectly in the dim light, and she couldn't help but admire his shaft. It wasn't hard, but even flaccid he was more than comparable to a stallion. "Wait… you're a mess." She undulated her eel-like body and lifted up onto her tentacles. Moving closer, she kept herself at groin height so that Ian would know exactly what her intention was. Her mouth opened and closed very carefully around him.
Ian stared at Terror's face, her huge eyes—even for a type of pony—were fixed up at him. He knew the horror of teeth inside her mouth, but something long and dexterous coiled around his shaft and protected it from harm. He let out a groan as Terror cleaned him off, and when she finally pulled back and let his trapped member see light again not only was it glistening, but it was rock hard once more.
"There. I can't let you go without putting you back in the condition I found you in." Terror licked her lips, pulling in every drop of his seed and her own fluids mixed. "You are a strange pony, Ian."
"I'm not a pony." Ian's legs wobbled a little as he climbed from the bed, and the action earned an appreciative burbling giggle from Terror. "I'm not!" Looking around the room, he spotted a dressing robe that had been hung on the door for him. The item, when he reached for it, was fantastically soft and thick, and perfectly tailored to his body. A rush of warmth accompanied the last revelation—the mares really were taking good care of him. "Are you hungry?"
"You want to watch me eat?" Gliding on her undulating tentacles, Terror found her cloak on the chest of draws to one side of the big bed.
Ian opened the door only when Terror Waves had clothed herself. "Sure, why not? I live with an insect-eater, a carnivore, a pony who thinks she is a carnivore, and a mare who stares at us all disapprovingly from behind her salad." Ian ticked his lovers off on one hand. "And that isn't even touching Chatter's diet."
"Point taken. Okay, let's go get this over with." Terror flicked her tail as she followed Ian out the bedroom door and then down the stairs. She expected to be tossed out, it was how she had been treated by the few ponies she had gotten close to, once they had what they wanted from her.
"Here he is. I told you if I turned down his libido he would stop banging her." Click Clack beamed happily, ignoring Solid's frown at her choice of language.
"How was it? I hear tentacles are so awesome!" Chatter was behind the bar, pouring drinks for a regular patron. "You know, I could turn into something with tentacles, if you like? What about a tatzl pony?" No sooner said, than done; Chatter's body flashed with green fire and her normal unicorn disguise was changed. A thick tail swayed behind her, and she flicked out three tongues, one after the other.
"Back off, Wobbles." Screech glared at the changeling. "Your turn is next, so let him have a break." The admonishment earned Screech a triple-raspberry from Chatter. "Are you both okay? Would you like a drink Ian? What about you, Terror was it?"
"W-Water will be fine." Terror was taken aback by the offer. "Maybe I should just go—"
"Nonsense." Solid looked to Terror, her eyes having been studying Ian since he came down the stairs. "Sit down and have a drink. Are you hungry too?"
Terror was feeling out of her depth—a strange sensation for a pony that is at home in the darkest parts of the ocean. Reaching up, she flipped back her hood to reveal her fear-inducing features.
"What do you eat?" Chatter, still wearing her Tatzl pony look, set a glass and a pitcher of water on the table. "Is it something messy? Maybe you need a particular kind of—"
"Just, uh… fish entrails…" Terror's armor of fear was doing nothing for her, and she was off-guard because of it. "Just whatever you can get out of a fish, but the insides are the best bits, and as fresh as you can get it…"
A normal pony would faint, or run screaming; Chatter snaked out one tongue and tapped her jaw with it. "I will have to check the cool room. We have been substituting some of Rake and Snaps' food with fish lately." She turned and trotted for the back room, leaving an astonished Terror staring at her thick, swaying tail.
"Told you." Ian slipped into a seat beside Screech, and put one arm around her. She countered with her torn wing-arm and hugged him in return. "Terror thought she would be too freaky to hang out here." Ian leaned against Screech, resting his head against her neck.
"Pfft," Screech rolled her slit eyes, "you can't out-freak us. We gathered all the biggest freaks in Canterlot together. We are a pit of freaky awesomeness." She speared a little chunk of food on her plate with a fork—held by her hoof—and lifted it up to Ian's mouth. A little thrill ran through her when he dutifully opened up and let her feed him.
Chatter returned then, carrying a plate balanced on one tongue, a big chopping block with another, and the last carrying a big cleaver. "Ah goth ya footh!" She set the empty plate down, and then put the block beside it. Laying across the chopping block was a brace of descaled fish, and before Terror could blink the changeling brought her cleaver down.
"You lot are freaks…" Terror grinned as she said the words, and reached up with a tentacle to grab one of the fish heads. "But you are pretty cool." Opening her mouth wide, she tossed the chilled head into her maw and clamped down on it. A shiver of delight ran through Terror as the flavor of the fish hit her. "This is great!"
Ian didn't have long to appreciate the strange mare's delight, Chatter had slid down beside him and nuzzled against his cheek. "So, you want more tentacles? Or do you want something more exotic?" She rubbed his jar with a tongue as he gulped down another mouthful of food from Screech.
Gulping down his food, Ian looked into Chatter's eyes. "I want you, not any pretend games, Chatter. I want to feel you around me, I want to watch your body tense as I take you, and I want to feed you as best I can." The words came from his heart, and he saw shock in Chatter's face. Shock, and hunger.
"Ha." Screech drew her wing back from Ian, surrendering him to Chatter. "Look at her face! You actually shut her up for a second!"
Chatter leaned around Ian and poked Screech in the ribs. "You are the worst bat ever, do you know that?"
"Worst, or best?" Screech leaned forward and kissed Chatter on the lips. The astonished changeling was left quiet for a few moments. "Yeah, that's what I thought."
Ian leaned back and got between the two mares deliberately. Pressing his mouth forward, he kissed Chatter on the lips. It was intended to be something brief, but Chatter seemed to have other ideas. Three tongues immediately petitioned for access to Ian's mouth, and he gave it. It was so strange having three tongues searching around his mouth, that Ian didn't notice green bursts of fire flaring around him.
Screech watched Chatter form the spell of teleportation. "Goodb—"
"Now, where were we?" Chatter was back to her normal self after the teleport, her chitin only marred at her right shoulder. "Oh, that's right. Since you have been a good stallion, I will let you choose."
"Choose what?" Ian leaned to nuzzle Chatter, but the changeling gently rebuked him by moving backwards, towards her bed.
"Top, or bottom?" A collar floated over from one side of the room, and a riding crop from the other; both were held in green magic.
"Top." Ian didn't hesitate. "Are you using more magic because you are eating more?" He reached up and took both crop and collar from Chatter's grip. Opening up the collar, he reached out with it and wrapped it around Chatter's throat.
"All your fault, Master." Chatter melted a little as the collar pinched around her neck. She felt Ian's clever fingers closing the fastening and fixing it in place. "You make all my herd-sisters happy."
"And when they are happy, you are well-fed." Ian gave a tug on the collar, smiling at the little gasp of excitement from the changeling. Looking around, he frowned at not spotting something to use as a leash.
"Master, your servant is ready to please you." Chatter kept her voice low, her head dipped so that she was gazing at Ian's feet. His hands touched her collar again, and this time she felt him tying something to it. Looking up, Chatter saw the impromptu leash made from the belt of Ian's robe. "Mast—" She didn't get any further; Ian tugged on the leash and jerked her head forward so that her nose poked between the now parted robe and right against Ian's growing erection.
Large fangs brushed Ian's shaft just before Chatter took him in her mouth. Keeping her leash short, he started thrusting into her maw, taking his pleasure from her just like she had begged him to. "You are a good little slave, bug." Reaching down, Ian wrapped a hand around her horn to hold her head as he wanted it.
Chatter felt hot, excited. Her nature let her slide between dominant and submissive, and she was almost deliriously happy to have found a stallion similarly attuned. Wrapping her long, thin tongue around the hefty shaft in her mouth, she milked and suckled on it. Appreciative sounds from Ian, along with his rock-hard stature told Chatter she was doing a good job. She closed her eyes, letting Ian control her by her horn.
Close to his end, Ian pulled Chatter away from his groin. "No, slave. I need more of your kind, so I think tonight we will spend-d-d—" Ian stuttered to a half in his speech. His need amplified, and he knew Click Clack had just amped his fertility up to maximum. "Spend tonight screwing you senseless."
Ian's voice sounded different to Chatter: throaty and course. She pulled back on the leash, trying to jerk Ian towards the bed. "Please, Master, I need to be filled with your foals." She waggled her rear towards her stallion, and heard a delightful groan from him.
The sight before Ian was almost mesmerizing. Her vulva looked almost perfectly like any other pony's, but there was a sheen to it that had nothing to do with how moist Chatter was. From his history with the mare, he knew she was anything but pony-like inside. He stumbled forwards, but rather than let Chatter lead him to the bed, he yanked back on her leash. Chatter's insides—and he speared them as quickly as he could—were soft and obliging, but there was a strange sensation when he was within her.
Chatter froze where she was. Ian was inside her, stretching her body in ways that made her arch her back and shiver. She turned her head to look back and up at him, just in time for him to pull back and buck forward again. The force of his shove almost took her foreleg out from under her, but when he followed up with more firm shoves, she gave up and folded her forequarters down to the ground.
Grabbing Chatter's tail fin with one hand, Ian kept pulling back on the leash while he drove into Chatter's body again and again. On a short fuse from the blowjob the mare had given him, he couldn't hold back long.
With her own climax inexorably linked to that of her partner, Chatter felt as Ian reached closer to his peak. Just as she was sure he would lose himself, she clamped down with the internal muscles and limbs, her changeling vagina grabbing her stallion's shaft.
Ian froze in place as Chatter locked herself around him. The strong muscles of her vulva clamped to his shaft, and inside it felt like dozens of fingers were stroking him. He didn't care how strange it felt, because the oddly erotic sensations pushed him over the edge. Transferring her leash to his teeth, Ian grabbed the changeling's hindquarters and pulled her as tight against him as he could, while his body sprayed load after load of his magically fertile seed.
Chatter buzzed her wings and chirped repeatedly. She trembled in bliss and felt more than simple chemicals at work. Ian fed her love in a torrent, and while she fed on that, she kept up her ministrations on his shaft.
Legs wobbling, Ian knew he couldn't stand for much longer. He slumped forward over Chatter, landing along her body and pinning her to the floor. With the changeling mare's hips keeping his own body raised, he leaned down so that his head was beside Chatter's. "You are a good slave, but don't think we are done at just one foal."
Gasping in bliss, Chatter started to massage Ian with her insides, bringing his deflating shaft back to hardness again. "Of course, Master."
Chatter stirred from strange dreams. Her thoughts were thick with imaginings, eggs, nymphs, a new hive. She would be its queen, and they would all live in harmony with the ponies of Equestria. A gentle touch along her crest reminded her of the real world. She buzzed her wings a little, letting out a soft chirp as Ian stroked her mane-fin again and again.
Without having to even try, Chatter could taste the thick, heady taste of Ian's love for her. She chirped a little more and curled her only foreleg around him to hug him tightly. Their lips met, and the love swamping her grew thicker. She chirped and chirped, kissing Ian and crying little tears of pure joy.
Ian couldn't stop himself, and Chatter didn't seem inclined to, from gently working himself between her back legs, rolling the changeling to her back and sliding into her. Her body was soft, amazingly so considering her chitin. Slow and steady thrusts were the order of the day. Ian groaned and clung tight to Chatter's shoulders, one of his hands exploring the missing socket of her right shoulder.
She stared up at Ian, at the power he radiated, and the love. Chatter was so deeply in love with the human she couldn't put words to it. Instead, riding the pleasure he seemed to insist on shoving into her, Chatter nuzzled along his neck, nibbling with her sharp fangs to remind him that she was just as strange as he.
As Ian's fingers ran over the slightly puckered flesh around Chatter's shoulder, he felt the talisman suddenly activate again. Nothing could stop him now, and his body took on a life of its own. Riding the wave of desire, letting it pour him into Chatter, he drove himself until he exploded inside of her body again.
Chatter milked Ian's shaft, her inner muscles gripping at him, while other parts started to tug and stroke. She felt him cling even tighter to her body as she drew out his orgasm from seconds, into minutes. Finally, she released her grip. She relaxed herself and let Ian go, but to Chatter's delight he stayed inside her, his body pressed to hers as close as could be. "I love you, Ian."
"I love you, too." Ian couldn't hold back the words any more than he could hold back the ocean. He stared into the changelings eyes and touched his lips to hers in another kiss.
Screech stretched and opened the door. "Come on, it will be busy soon." She looked back over her shoulder, into the bedroom she had shared with Ian. She didn't blame him that her belly wasn't swelling yet, after all, it meant he had to keep working at it.
"Coming." Ian pulled on his pants and shirt, but the problem he was having was distraction based; he couldn't stop staring at Screech from behind. Her body was honed and powerful, and without seeing her stretching, shredded wing it would be impossible to tell she was anything but perfect. Ian knew every inch of her wing, had run his lips and fingers over it, felt the puckered tears and jutting finger bones.
Frozen, Screech stared at her stallion. Ian was apparently stunned, spellbound just looking at her. Months ago, she would have assumed he was freaking out at her appearance, but he had proven to her again and again that he found her attractive. She hated how aroused his gaze left her; she would have to work for hours without a hint of a cold shower, or something better. "Get your p-pants on."
Ian laughed as Screech left. "Love you!" Jumping up to his feet, he got his pants up to mid-thigh when a big shape stepped into the doorway. "Love you too, Snaps." His soft words caused the big timber wolf to grin a bit wider, but an almost overwhelming smell hit him like a truck.
Musk, arousal, "pheromones"; call it what you want, but Snaps was leaking it in the height of her estrus. Ian watched Snaps' stare, and it wasn't at his throat. "Pants off?"
"Pants off!" Rake squeezed between Snaps and the doorway, turning and nuzzling at the wolf's paw before groveling forward. "It usually comes on quick and lasts forever, guess that isn't going to be the case today. Get ready, she is going—" She never got the rest out, the moment Ian had his pants down Snaps pounced.
Finding himself suddenly horizontal on the floor, Ian was looking up at the wolfess' eyes, but still her gaze was elsewhere. A slow, hungry lick ran from his balls all the way over his groin and up to his belly button. Ian squirmed, but something wild started to take hold. Moving fast and deliberate, he grabbed Snaps by the neck and wrestled out from under her.
Heat exploded in Ian's groin, and the thinking part of him recognized Click Clack activating the talisman. It fed the beast inside him. "Come on Snaps!" He stepped sideways, trying to walk around Snaps, knowing he needed to be behind her to get what they both wanted.
Like her namesake, Snaps bared her teeth and made a wood-rattling snapping sound. She was an alpha bitch, and she wouldn't let just any dog on her; even her mate needed to work for his position. Turning to face the human, she growled at him, partly in challenge, partly in need.
Lunging, Snaps tried to grab at Ian, but her dog was quick and canny. She snarled in delight as he shoved her head aside and thumped her in the shoulder. The strength of the blow knocked her sideways, but she was quickly back and facing him again. When Ian came at her, Snaps was surprised for the first time in their mating dance. Surprised, and very pleased.
A token effort to snap at her dog was all Snaps could manage, her need was growing, and the display of strength from Ian was making her body ache for him. She stumbled as his clever fingers clawed up and pushed her past him. He was behind her, and it was exactly how things should be.
Ian watched Snaps' tail cock to the side, and he didn't need to think at all anymore as she presented herself to him. He was hard, ready, and wet as he could see Snaps to be, he shoved his hips forward and claimed her.
Rake's eyes were wide. She had been sparring with Ian herself, and watched him and Snaps tousle from time to time, but the fight had been short and definitive. As Snaps let loose a howl, Rake raced to the door and slammed it shut. She crawled forward, belly to the floor, and nuzzled around the legs of her alphas.
Power and dominance surged in Ian, over and over her plowed into the wolfess. Some study of wolves had taught him that bitches rarely reach their own peak during mating, but he strived to push Snaps there regardless. Grabbing hold, and reestablishing his grip every so often, he used the firm grasp on her back to drive himself hard against her rump.
Snap had never known another mate, nor had she any idea this wasn't how sex was meant to be. Where another bitch would be happy with what she was getting already, Snaps knew there was something amazing to come. Ian plowed in and out, even lifting one leg to shove harder. The motion felt like an auger boring deep into her heartwood, and it sent her wild with anticipation. A glance back over her shoulder revealed her dog deeply focused on his task, on her.
The panting, growling, and howling suddenly hit a peak, and Rake's head shot up from where she was licking her alphas' feet. Snaps had her back arched, her rear end anchored for Ian to fill. She filled the room with her voice as she praised her mate. The pegasus turned to look at Ian next, he was snarling and growling, still humping at Snaps before he too broke the dam holding back his pleasure.
Ian clung tight to Snaps, fingers digging into the wood of her back, trying to keep himself inside as his body unloaded the magically enhanced seed deep into the wolf. Snaps slumped under him, and gracelessly they both folded and fell to the floor.
The feeling of a face pushing between them startled Ian for a moment, until he recognized Rake. Rumbling a welcome growl in his throat, Ian slowly pulled back, letting Rake lap at where his and Snaps' bodies were joined, cleaning them both as he came free. The licking continued, once Rake had Snaps reasonably clean, and Ian realized the wolf-like pony was trying to get him hard again. Normally, for a regular human unaffected by magic, it would be a tough job. Ian had enough magic flooding him from the bound talisman that Rake's labor was quickly rewarded.
Rake's palate was drowning in the musky-sweet taste of semen and thin tree sap. She licked around her lips trying to clean it up, but honestly didn't care about mess. A deep growl caught her off guard, and turning, she looked up to see Snaps looking right at her. A soft whine came from her own throat, instinctively giving ground to her sister, and the moment the wolfess recognized the sound she yapped at Rake.
New drive seized Ian, and he growled at Rake and grabbed at her with a hand. She didn't struggle, turning and offering herself to him freely and with a happy whine. Slick with Rake's saliva, Ian drove into her. He grabbed her tail—when it didn't move fast enough—and pulled it out of his way. The beast within took him again, and if there was a chance Ian could turn into a timber wolf, he would have then and there. Snarling like an animal, he claimed the pack's weaker bitch.
Rake started her own howl. It wasn't as loud or as deep as Snaps' had been, but it was hers. Locking her back legs, she had to scramble with her forehooves to keep from being pushed forward with the force of Ian's breeding. Finally, she spread her wings and flapped them, using every trick she could to hold still for her dog.
Ian was on a short fuse, but experience was starting to pay off for him, and he kept riding Rake's body. Her depths were warmer, softer, but she didn't clench down as much as Snaps did. When Rake's hooves slipped, and her wings missed a beat, he growled and leaned over the mare, digging his flat, blunt teeth into her withers.
Rolling her eyes up, Rake trembled in complete bliss as Ian grabbed on like a real dog should. Neither of them were ponies in that moment, both were wolves in the wrong bodies, and they bred like animals.
Grabbing hold of one wing at its base, Ian's other hand groped, missed Rake's wing, and instead found her ribcage. His fingers traced each rib that stuck out of the perpetually skinny pegasus, finally digging in and holding. Each thrust was a thunderous shove, and Ian was having to work hard on not losing himself. When he heard Rake's tone change, and felt her body clamp down on his shaft, he knew he had done it. Unable to hold back his lust any longer, Ian's body blasted hot, potent seed into Rake, plowing her fertile depths and, thanks to the same magic that put pups in Snaps, put a foal into Rake's womb.
The door of the room swung open, and Solid Built was framed by the brighter light of the hallway. "Can you three keep it—" She cut her words off at the sight. She had known Snaps' demands of Rake, that the mare wouldn't get to breed with Ian—with the talisman—until after her season was taken care of.
"S-S-Sorry…" Ian smiled up at the big mare, his hips giving another shove into Rake. "Well… no we're not…" He panted a few times, body at the edge of exhaustion. "C-Can you close the door?"
"Is this congratulations, then?" Solid looked to Snaps first, and saw a satisfied grin on the dozing timber wolf's face. The big canine's glowing eyes were closed, and she looked as content as could be.
"Th-Think so—" Rake had to cut her words short as Ian bucked against her again. She didn't care, probably wouldn't care if the bar was on fire.
"Come in or close the door, Mama Solid." His voice deep, hungry, Ian looked up at Solid Built. Her belly had a slight bulge to it the big mare normally lacked, and she knew Ian was looking right at it.
"Clean up when you can, we could use another hoof downstairs." Solid had to retreat, lest she leave her bar even more short-staffed. Sometimes work was annoying like that, every part of her body below her neck wanted to walk into the room and lock herself up with Ian, Snaps, and Rake.
Ian wiped his brow, and put his foot to the shovel again. Digging the new cellar into the yard behind the inn had been considered expensive, until they had decided to build it themselves. Clearing away the paving stones had been simple work, as was what Ian was focused on.
The day was warm enough that he had his shirt off, and was up to his chest into the hole. When he straightened up to heave the latest load of dirt out, he found himself looking at four legs. Tilting his head, Ian saw Screech's belly—still flat—and kept going until he was looking at her eyes. The journey his sight had taken reminded him not just of their inability to get her pregnant, but also how much he adored her.
"Would my strong stallion like a drink?" Screech felt both delight at Ian's hungry look, and a pang of self-recrimination that she hadn't become pregnant yet. But she had a plan. Terror had been much easier to talk into a potion, once the monster-pony's belly was swelling.
"He certainly would. He would also like a lot more." Ian reached up and took an offered glass, brought it to his lips and drank. Pure apple juice. It was sweet as sin, and went down a lot better than any water ever would. "Thanks, love." Leaning upwards, Ian's lips met with Screech's.
Screech had wanted to keep the kiss brief, but with Ian she always found herself wanting to linger. Being careful about her fangs, she nibbled gently at his tongue. With a laugh, she finally broke the kiss. "Be ready for me, tonight. I have talked to the others, and I have you for as long as I need you."
Ian blinked in surprise. "Tonight? I'll be as ready as I can." Passing the glass back up, Ian looked over Screech, and already felt himself stirring. Her wink, and the sight of her back end as she walked away did nothing to relax Ian. "Back to digging…"
The day continued, and Ian couldn't get the thought of Screech out of his head. He climbed out of the basement, and headed into the inn to clean off. The dirt and sweat of work washed away in a shower, but as he was drying off he heard scratching at the door.
Expecting to see Snaps, Ian was surprised when Screech leaped in at him and knocked him down. She stood over Ian, eyes locked on his and licking her lips. "This is… This is really powerful stuff." The taste of the potion she had drunk still clung to her mouth: sweet. "She said with this in me, there isn't a stallion alive who couldn't get me with foal."
While Ian watched her, Screech looked to be hungrier and hungrier. She stared at him like he was a piece of meat, and it called on the side of him that was an alpha with Rake and Snaps. Just as he opened his mouth to ask if Screech would be okay for rough sex, she ground herself against him and let out a snarling screech.
Grabbing Screech's sides, Ian ran his hands over her ribs slowly, bringing them down and between their bodies. Pressing betwixt her forelegs, Ian shoved hard. A blast of high-frequency sound hit him, but he was too roused to let it faze him. Rolling to his feet, Ian grabbed Screech around the neck with one arm, and locked his wrist with his other. "We are not doing this in the bathroom."
Losing her focus completely, Screech felt the potion steal her faculties. She wanted just one thing, and the stallion she wanted it from was being a stallion in every way but how she wanted. Ian dragged her into the softer room, and though she wanted to struggle and fight, his choke-hold was solid.
"So this potion makes you super fertile, but a bit wild? I can handle that. Chatter has a lot of games she likes to play, and Tie Up the Pony is one of the best." Trusting his right arm to hold on to Screech, Ian reached out, opened the chest at the end of the bed, and pulled out the soft rope.
Screech saw what was on the end of the rope, and struggled some more. But no matter her efforts, she didn't want to rake Ian with her wing claws, and so without her main weapons the rope of a bridle pulled around her face and over the back of her head.
"Gotcha!" Ian pulled hard on the rope, yanking Screech around to face him. "Are you going to be good now?"
An inch from Screech's nose was everything she wanted from the stallion. She breathed hard, and leaned forward to nuzzle Ian's shaft. Rubbing her cheek against the hard organ like a cat, she lifted her lips aside so that her sharp teeth rubbed him.
Ian understood the warning and demand; she was surrendering to him to get her prize. "You want it, don't you?" Holding the rope as close to Screech's bridle as he could, Ian moved around her, and by the time he was behind Screech he was already leaning over her back.
Lining himself up, Ian was just about to push into Screech, when the mare shoved herself backwards. As clutching, tight muscles gripped his shaft, Ian pulled back on the rope and shoved forward. "Had to make it-make it a fight!" The alpha inside him lurched out and pulled even harder on the rope.
With his groin pressed firmly to Screech's plot, Ian could feel the mare squirming, trying to shift and get the main event going. Snarling, he moved the rope from his hand to his mouth, and jerked his head to the side. Pulling back quickly, he rammed forward again, and sank all the way into the bat pony.
Screech's itch was finally being scratched, and she arched her back to let Ian have her easier. Rocking, controlled by the bridle, she moved on command with Ian, pushing back when pulled, and countering with forward movement when he pulled backward.
Ian took his time; he had all night after all. Taking the dance as slow as he could, he was constantly fighting with Screech to keep it that way. The pace was slow, but deep. Each time Ian pushed into Screech, her body tightened around him, welcoming his penis home.
Arousal built, and grunting with each thrust, Ian began to rock faster at last. The pressure within grew like a thunderstorm, and Ian couldn't have stopped if he had wanted to. The combination of Screech's behavior, combined with a certain bot pony's uncanny ability to know when he was copulating—and enabling his talisman—drove Ian to a frenzy of lust.
He hadn't hit his release before Ian felt Screech's body tighten a lot more around his shaft. Her body pulsed around him, and eager to push Screech to new heights, Ian kept pounding away. When Screech screamed another high-frequency blast, Ian knew she was going into a second orgasm, and he was glad to follow her.
The build up seemed to focus at his tingling balls, and Ian drove as hard into Screech as he could before loosing his pleasure.
A moment of clarity hit Screech. She felt the pressure of magic tighten around her body, but nowhere so intensely as her belly. The feel of Ian dumping himself into her had her screaming far too high for anyone but a fellow bat to hear. The magic seemed to focus down, and Screech's eyes snapped wide open as it seemed to tingle deep inside. She stared at the wall before her, not seeing a thing, her focus completely on the feelings inside.
"What are you two doing in here?" Solid Built didn't knock—not in her own inn—and spotted Ian atop Screech right away. "Finally going to put some foals in her, my little colt?" The bar was quiet for once, and Solid felt that it was her turn to play. Stepping into the room, she closed the door behind her.
Ian was barely able to pay attention to Solid, but what got all his focus was her magic wrapping around the base of his shaft and squeezing. "P-P-Please…" The whimper broke from his lips, causing him to drop the rope and start humping again. The talisman was relentless when active, and he couldn't stop his body from beginning all over again.
" 'Please' what?" Solid's thick midsection was a testament to how potent Ian was when in the grip of the talisman. "What do you want to ask me, my colt? Do you want to beg your mama to help you get this filly pregnant? Is that what you want?"
"Y-Yes, Mama." Ian fell into the role-play he and Solid shared, but it wasn't like he needed help now. With his body uncontrollably bucking, Ian tried to listen to Solid, to find out what she was going to do.
"You are a good colt, but you are going way too fast for the filly. Slow,"—Solid wrapped Ian's hips in her magic, gripping him and stopping his thrusting for a moment—"down." Moving her colt, Solid pushed him firmly forward, hilting into Screech. "Now, this is how a colt is a good boy for his mommy and for his filly."
Ian's movement was controlled by Solid, he couldn't buck or pull back, except when she wanted him to. The loss of control hit a similar spot inside him that made him horny at the loss of control just from the talisman. "Yes, Mama."
As soon as he said the words, Ian lost himself. Scrunching his eyes closed, her felt Solid push him forward and hold him there. Again he flooded Screech's insides, and again there was a tight squeeze around his shaft.
Blasting her echo' out again, Screech lost herself into yet another orgasm. Slumping her forequarters to the floor, she braced her back end up as best she could for her stallion. Glancing back, she smiled wearily at the sight of Solid Built taking control of the situation. She gave a soft kee of appreciation before the first stroke of the next round started.
"One more, and then our good girl can have a rest while your mama has her fun." Solid warmed to her task, and started Ian humping into Screech again. She worked the human as best she could, keeping his angle just perfect, and making sure he drove against her backside with each thrust.
Ian fell to the floor when his body was done again. He was weak and spent, and after four strong climaxes he was barely able to speek. "M-Mama?" Raising one hand up, Ian felt a strong foreleg take hold and pluck him from the ground. Squirming like the foal Solid called him, Ian felt her magic carry him over and set him on the bed.
"Good colt. I think little Screech is done for now, but you have one more left. One more for your mama?" Solid rolled to her back, offering herself to Ian, but she made no effort to control him.
"Mama please… I want-I want to, but I can barely move!" Ian proved this by crawling atop Solid, but not having a hope of lifting himself enough to take her body. A sudden tightness around his shaft made Ian cry out in surprise. Looking down, he saw a dull yellow, glowing ring of magic around his length, stroking slowly.
"Good boy, give Mama what she wants." Solid kept stroking Ian until he lined himself up and shoved into her. "Goooood colt. That's my boy!"
The combination of the stroking magic ring and the talisman burning within Ian, caused him to leap into action. Grabbing hold of Solid's forelegs, he started grinding and bucking, racing along as fast as he could to reach his end. But, to Ian's panic, the ring stopped stroking him, and all he could do to get a taste of the orgasm he had felt coming was to keep humping.
Screech crawled up the side of the bed, her body making a little mess on the floor, and watched as Ian bucked into Solid Built over and over. All she could do was let out a tired kee and watch Ian seemingly be able to have sex with no regard for stamina.
Ian felt like he was being wrung out, but each stroke of his shaft in Solid's gripping vagina pushed him nearer his end. Whimpering again and again, he disregarded his exhaustion to please both Solid and himself.
"Hold it in, Ian. I don't want my colt finishing before his mama. Do you know what happens to colts who do that?" When Solid looked into Ian's face, she realized he wasn't going to be able to reply. "Their mama uses that spell again, and makes them pleasure her."
His body screaming to relax, Ian scrunched his eyes closed and kept grinding onward. Solid was a big mare, but she had excellent control of her pelvic muscles, but when he felt them start to pulse, start to grab and release him over and over, he looked up at Solid's face. "Mama-Mama, you're beautiful…" Ian collapsed onto Solid, and shot himself deep into her already pregnant self.
"Good little colt. You did well." Solid rubbed behind Ian's human ear, but her stallion was already passed out. "You can sleep for now, but we are going to make sure our filly is pregnant this time, right Screech?"
Screech couldn't get her voice together enough to talk, but she did snuggle up beside Solid, even spreading her wing up and over Ian, she hugged him against Solid.
Nerves were eating away at Ian. The past month had been busy not only for him, but for his herdmates. Snaps had been the first to give birth, and what a birthing it had been. His memories of Snaps doting on a trio of timber wolf pups—Ian's timber wolf pups—stirred his heart almost as much as seeing the adorable little ones.
Snaps
A heavy, almost overwhelming urge overtook Ian at seeing Snaps licking their pups clean. He stepped forward and crouched down. Two of the timber wolves were little wooden canines, eyes still closed, but they were both firmly attached to one of their mother's teats each. The third, a little girl, was unique.
From her waist up, little Snarl was mostly human. She had bare skin, little arms, and an adorable pink face. Two wooden ears sat atop her head, folded back as she drank, but it was a little more strange because her human part looked more like a toddler than a newborn.
"They're all perfect." All hint of the domination games that had led to his closeness with Snaps was gone. He watched as each of his young fed from their mother, and reached down to rub little tiny ears, and stroke their cheeks.
Standing behind the bar, Ian heard hoofsteps coming down the stairs. He turned to look, seeing Click Clack striding purposefully. "Has she had them yet?" His voice was as shaky as his nerves felt.
"Not yet. It is a mother's prerogative to have her foals when she is ready, despite how much her stallion might want otherwise." Click walked in behind the bar and reared up to hug Ian against her warm mechanical body.
"I was just thinking…" Ian trailed off, his voice implying that such was neither a good, nor bad thing. "She will be alright?"
"She has Chatter with her. Do you think Chatter would let your herdmate come to harm?" Giving Ian's cheek a nuzzle, Click Clack settled a hoof on the bar to take some of her weight off Ian.
Mention of Chatter woke the memories of his second herdmate to birth. Of course, Chatter—being a changeling—had a very different birthing to what Ian would have normally thought.
Chatter
"Eggs?" Ian looked at the two, football-sized eggs that Chatter held to her belly. "They'll hatch?"
"You're kidding, right?" Chatter leaned down to instinctively nuzzle one of the eggs, changing its position slightly. "In the hive, eggs matured as they were fed love. Changelings had to go hungry in order to ensure their foals lived."
Ian tried to work through the explanation. "But you don't have to go—"
"With you around? I have never been hungry since you joined us, Ian, and I don't expect our nymphs to go hungry either. The amount of love you give off will have these eggs mature in no time." Chatter leaned up and kissed Ian, and she got a little reply from his own lips.
"Soon?" Ian held off kissing Chatter again until she nodded. Leaning closer, he made sure the eggs were very well-fed.
Click Clack gave a happy little squeaking click deep in her mechanics—Ian had learned that meant she was a very happy bot pony. "You were thinking about our foals?"
"And their mothers." Ian leaned in and kissed Click on her metallic snout. "I couldn't have dreamed there was so much love in me, but you all made it a reality." Some tears came, but they weren't from sadness. But…"
"Worried about something? I can take a guess." With another squeaky click, Click Clack lifted a hoof up to brush Ian's cheek dry. "The Contract." The two words caused Ian to stiffen a little. "One of the clauses was that it needs everypony to agree that it is ended."
"Yeah, but all the needs on it are met. What good is a contract that doesn't hold any restrictions anymore?" Clinging to Click, Ian tried to center himself and reacquire the happiness he had mere minutes earlier.
Rake
"Where is he? I am going to tear that bucking colt aPART!" Ripples of strain ran through Rake's body, causing her to almost scream out the last word. Panting hard, she glared at her herdmates. "I don't care if tradition requires him to wait out there, if he doesn't come in and hold my buckin' paw I am going—I am going—" The next contraction caused her to squeeze both eyes shut as the strain of birth took away everything but her focus on pushing.
When Rake opened her eyes, she found a hand closing around her hoof. She clamped down on it and held Ian's fingers in a death grip. "About bucking time you got here." Despite her furious words, her expression held all the relief that the father of her "pups" was present.
Ian focused on Rake's front half, leaving the rest to the capable Chatter—who it had turned out had been disguised as a midwife for many years. His hand was being crushed, sure, but he could see that Rake needed him. "I love you."
"You bucking well should!" Rake leaned up and kissed Ian, surprising him. Her body tensed, and she was dumped back into a contraction. "If you ever try to get me pregnant again, I will rip your throat out!"
"Yes, love." Leaning down, Ian rest his head beside Rake's. His mouth was a little below her ear, but he knew she would hear him. "I love you, Rake. I love you, and your foals." The grip on his hand nearly crushed it, and he heard a long howl rip free of Rake's mouth.
"That's him. Your little stallion." Chatter's chirpy voice—she had learned to chirp happily a lot since their herd formed—announced the arrival of Rake's foal. "You need to roll onto your side now." With the amount of love in the air, Chatter had more than enough energy to expend magic on easing Rake over.
Ian climbed up on the bed, leaving their foal to nurse between Rake's back legs. Another satyr, this time with pony legs and tail, and cute little pony ears. "I love you both so—" His words were stolen by Rake, as she pulled him into a kiss.
More hoofsteps, this time it was Solid Built walking down the stairs. Ian looked over at the first mare he had met of his herd. "How is—"
"Come up, Ian. Your new daughter is waiting to see you." Solid beamed with pride. Her own belly was slowly returning after the birth of her own filly.
Ian almost jumped out from behind the bar. "How are they?" Running up the stairs, Ian knew the room he needed to be in.
Solid never got tired of seeing Ian excited and in love. She thought back to when her foal had been born. "Mother and daughter are doing well. Screech wants to see you before she sleeps."
Solid Built
Solid's sides heaved despite having had an easy, if long, birth. She looked at Ian and nuzzled his cheek. "Wake up, sleepy head."
His head thick, Ian stirred from the nap to find Solid grinning at him. "Wh-what happened? You had her?!" He looked down, seeing a perfect—if very large—filly. "She's a perfect pony. All pony, I mean."
"I liked the first bit better." Solid nuzzled Ian's cheek. "All our foals are perfect." Slowly bringing her thudding heart-rate down, Solid kissed Ian and felt her thoughts thickening. Between her legs, her foal nursed where she had nursed her stallion. "Take care of us while I sl—"
Opening the door, Ian was met with a high-pitched scream. The blast of high-frequency sound stunned him for a moment after it had stopped.
"S-Sorry!" Screech lay on the bed, twin foals nursing from her. "I just couldn't…" She fumbled for words, but by the time she had come up with what she wanted to say, Ian was kissing her. Melting into the kiss, she gave much softer sounds.
"Twins. Little fillies, and I have no clue how this happened." Chatter tapped Ian on the hip, and gently lifted Screech's leg.
Pulling back from the kiss, Ian stared at the two foals, one sporting Screeches own colors and a large pair—for her size—of bat wings. The second foal was similar, muted colors to her mother, but she bore no wings and a single horn. "A unicorn? How did—?"
Screech cut Ian off with another kiss. She stole his confusion and turned it into a smile against her muzzle. Breaking apart, she grinned. "They're perfect. They're ours." Lifting a hoof, she booped Ian on the nose.
Worry suddenly filled Ian. The contract terms were complete, all that was needed was consensus and it was ended. "W-W-What about the contract?" His life had been made so much better by the simple piece of paper, it worried him that it might be undone.
"Do we need it?" As soon as Screech asked, she knew she had said the wrong thing. Ian's face showed full panic and terror. "Wait!" She managed to grab hold of Ian before he fled the room.
"Read this." Click Clack filed into the room. She tossed a stack of bound papers before Ian.
Picking up the pages, Ian could see through his tears that it was a contract—a stallion contract. Ian lifted one arm up and rubbed the tears roughly from his eyes, and he started to read.
At first glance, it looked exactly the same, but it was the end of each section that Ian found some important additions. Every single mare's entry—except Click Clack—was now changed to read plural foals.
The biggest change, however, was the top of the contract. Ian's hands shook as he took in what had changed: at the top of the page the contract had the duration section crossed out, and "The contract has no ending clause" was the only part visible. "You really want me?"
Mechanical as she was, Click Clack nodded and leaned in to nuzzle Ian. "Of course. You are a very special pony to us." She ignored the error in her words.
"We have all signed it." Solid Built kissed Ian's other cheek, leaning across the bed and its three occupants. "Snaps and Rake included, of course."
Just mentioning the two members of his little pack made Ian's heart thud a little harder. He looked to the bottom of the papers and, sure enough, everyone in his herd had signed. Everyone but him, of course. "How did I get so lucky?"
"That's simple, you did the right thing and followed Solid's plot." Screech was alternating between looking down at her amazing foals, and looking up at Ian. "Please sign it." Though Screech had agreed with the others—when Ian first arrived at the inn—that even just having foals would be enough, she was too far in love now to contemplate being without him.
Looking into Screeches eyes, Ian reached up to the contract and grabbed the quill laying across it. Carefully taking hold of it, he glanced down long enough to scrawl his signature on the contract.
"I love you." Ian's legs folded under him and he fell half onto the bed beside Screech. The world seemed just right, but at the same time completely overwhelming. "I love all of you."
Click Clack helped Ian, who appeared unable to stand, up onto the bed with his herdmate and her foals. "Sleep with her, we will guard the herd." She leaned in to nuzzle both Screech and Ian, before folding the contract up and leaving the room.
"That sounds like a really good idea." Screech kissed Ian, and before their lips could part, both were asleep.
Solid looked to Chatter. "Once the little ones are fed, help them to snuggle with their parents. The day is young, and I need to open the inn." With her future set, and the futures of all her herdmates, Solid left Ian and Screech to their sleep.
Ian took a deep breath. The plans had put him at a bit of a disadvantage, but with some adjusting of normal themes, he had agreed. Standing, shaking like a leaf, he was wearing what amounted to formal attire in Canterlot, although unlike normal pony formal attire, he wore pants.
The music started, and it was his cue. Stepping out of the alcove, he stood at the back of a big hall, and his heart stopped beating. Six of the most beautiful mares he had ever seen faced him from the dais at the far end. Solid Built, Click Clack, Chatter, Rake, Snaps, and Screech stared back at him.
His feet, thankfully, kept moving, and Ian was walking down the aisle, passing a very harried-looking Terror Waves, who was keeping a small army of pony, changeling, and timber wolf young busy.
Ian paused a moment in his walk, looking at his foals, nymphs, and pups. His breathing caught for a moment, and when he turned back to face his herd, he wore a big smile. As he reached the front, he stepped between Solid and Click, taking the center position of the group.
"Glad you could make it." Solid Built resisted the urge to kiss Ian, not before the special moment. "Didn't think you would get past the little ones. Terry is such a softy." Her words were soft, but Ian was focused on them. "You should probably look up, I think Princess Luna is upset."
"Fillies and gentlecolts. It is not often I get a personal request to officiate at such happy proceedings, but considering the circumstances I simply could not refuse." Luna couldn't keep the smile off her face; though the "ponies" gathered to be wed were far from perfect, she herself was often considered the misfit-princess. "I have never before seen such a wonderful group so ready to form a bond of kinship."
"Solid Built, step forward." Luna waited for Solid to step forward, not for the first time slightly intimidated by the mare's huge size. "You took Ian in when he needed friends, and your love grew around that. Will you marry him?"
Solid had to fight the tears wanting to take over, but she held them at bay long enough to nod. "I do."
"Snaps, step forward." Watching the huge timber wolf, Luna couldn't believe that not only was the creature apparently tame, but it had found love. "You battled with your mate, and both drew enough blood to count the other as equal. Will you marry Ian?"
Turning to look at Ian, Snaps dipped her head, and then glared at her mate squarely in the eyes.
Taking that as done, Luna moved on. "Click Clack, step forward. You brought stability and control to Ian's life, when all around him seemed chaotic. Will you marry him?"
A tiny squeaky click sounded, before Click Clack nodded. "I do."
"Rake, step forward." Luna had never seen a more emaciated pegasus before. Rake was so thin, Luna thought, that if she stood head-on she might be invisible. "You gave Ian somepony to care for, and look after, when he had no responsibility. Will you marry him?"
Rake started to lean sideways against Snaps, but quickly straightened back up. "Always."
"Chatter, step forward, and drop your disguise." A gasp ran through the few guards attending (as always) upon Luna. Chatter walked up, but as she limped she only had eyes for Ian. "You changed Ian's life, when he felt restricted and contained. Will you marry him?"
"Of course." Chatter tried to contain herself, she was almost ready to chirp herself to a happy death, and for her the catering had already started.
"Lieutenant First Class Screech, step forward." Luna saw shock register on Screech's face at the use of her full, pre-discharge, title. "Step forward, soldier." Luna waited a little longer for Screech to do so. "Though you only have one wing intact, you spread it about Ian's shoulders when he needed a friend more than anything. Will you marry him?"
"I will." Screech lost her fight against crying, and let the tears flow fully down her cheeks.
Luna lifted her head and looked directly at Ian. "You have so much love to give, and accept. These mares all wish to be at your side. Will you marry them?"
For a moment Ian thought on what would have been his life had he not ended up in Equestria, had he not had so many bad experiences, and had he not found Solid Built's inn. He smiled like the sun. "Of course I will."
Rolling her eyes as Chatter almost jumped on top of Ian, chirping her wings loudly, Luna lifted her voice to Royal Canterlot standards. "We now pronounce you wed!"
), robot pony on human, public sex, pregnancy, sex with sea monster (not sirens), and wing sex (yeah, you know you want to read to find out what this is 
).