It's A Dual Meaning
“You’re a good pony, Anon.”
You simply grumble back to the changeling king, face buried so deep in his chest fuzz that even if you’d attempted to form a coherent thought, it would have been lost anyway.
Being called a good pony typically shouldn’t be the kind of thing that causes a grumble in anyone. It’s a pretty nice compliment, all things considered. The circumstances of tonight, however, have you a bit on edge. It all happened within the last fifteen minutes, and the memory of it is so vivid in your head, it’s almost like it’s a flashback at an abnormally early part of a story.
~~~~~~~~~~
You’re sitting in your room, face buried in a book. You were never really a big reader, but every once in a while some story would grab your attention. Admittedly, the most common reasons for you to pick up a book back home were either to make a girl think you look smart or because a girl gave you the book and you wanted to impress her by showing that you cared about her interests. You figure this instance could be seen as the latter. Thorax lent you this book a couple of days ago, and while “A Tale of Two Chitins” didn’t really sound like something that would grab your interest, you gave it a chance for him, and now you have to admit that you’re enjoying it.
The more you think of it, the funnier it is how many things in this world are named similarly to things back home, but with some sort of horse or bug pun. You laughed for a good minute straight the first time you heard Princess Cadance say she was going to Whinneapolis, and the poor pink pony had no idea what was so funny. Not telling her was an awesome decision.
Your thoughts are interrupted by a frantic knocking on your bedroom door. You weren’t expecting company, and you have half a mind to open that door and make an improvised projectile out of one of your pillows. It’s one in the goddamn morning, this had better be good.
“Anoooon! It’s Cornicle! Can I come in?”
Okay, that’s an acceptable interruption. And you’d feel awful about hitting that cutie in the face with a pillow, so she gets off easy.
“Door’s open,” you call out. You’re already feeling lewd thoughts pop into your head as she opens the door. A pretty young thing knocking on your door this late at night? How could your mind not wander like that? It’s far more likely that she’s here for some innocuous reason, but a guy can hope, can’t he? And the sway in her step isn’t helping matters as she enters your room and walks towards your bed.
“Heyyy,” Cornicle says with a smile.
“Hey yourself,” you reply, sliding a bookmark into your page and closing the book so you can focus your full attention on the cutie in front of you.
“Can I sit here?” Cornicle asks, indicating the space next to you on your bed.
“Sure,” you respond, patting the bed with a hoof and giving her an inviting smile. She plops herself down and leans lightly on your side. Ever since the kissing incident with Thorax, Cornicle’s been happy to get closer to you as well. Even though you spend most of your snuggle time with Thorax, you’ve had a few turns with her as well. It’s a much different situation with her as you’re pretty much the same size, but it feels fantastic. Things haven’t gone farther than snuggles and a kiss or two here and there, but you’d be quite okay with it if they did. You could practically imagine her turning to you, staring at you with those big purple eyes, and asking you to fuck her silly.
But that's ridiculous. You know her well enough by this point to know that she would never suddenly throw herself at you like that. And she especially wouldn't curse. If anything, she'd probably say something more innocent-sounding like "Let's fornicate." It's still not a situation that would ever happen though.
"Let's fornicate," Cornicle says, turning to you and staring at you with those big purple eyes.
If you had a drink, you would have just spit it out in shock. You aren't thirsty, however, although it sure seems like Cornicle is.
"Come again?" you sputter, a bit too surprised to appreciate your accidental wordplay.
"Let's fornicate!" Cornicle repeats, before starting to giggle. "It'll be a lot of fun!"
You're hesitating and you're not entirely sure why. It does sound like a lot of fun, but something just feels off about the whole thing. It's just not like her to be that blatant about that kind of request. Cornicle is more than happy to ask for kisses and hugs, but this is just a smidge past that.
Your first thought is that it's another changeling posing as her. The whole "capable of changing their entire physical makeup" thing does kind of lend itself to the possibility. You don't have the faintest idea why another changeling would pose as Cornicle to do the nasty with you–other than your rugged good looks, of course–but it's certainly a possibility.
"Cast a null spell on yourself," you say, praying to whatever the horse god might be that this doesn't ruin the mood if this is really her. Thorax taught you nice and early that all changelings know a null spell that cancels all transformations within a small area, including their own. Knowing the changelings' penchant for love, it's entirely possible that a situation like this may have been the intended purpose of said spell.
Cornicle gives you a painfully cute little confused look, then smiles and nods. She raises her neck up and that spiky little horn on her forehead glows a pale purple. There's a little pulse of light that emanates from it, and when it vanishes, Cornicle's smiling face remains. That was the exact appearance that Thorax described for the null spell, so you can't help but believe that...
A scent hangs in the air. You've never smelled a changeling female's arousal before, as far as you're aware, but you can imagine that this is it, and the way it permeates your senses is practically intoxicating. Of course changelings would have a potent scent.
"Can we fornicate now?" Cornicle asks, shifting slightly on the bed. “Or...what’s that dirty word for it...oh! Fuck! Can we fuck? Please?”
Holy shit. Hearing that word in that cute little voice is just stunning.
The next thing you know, your hooves are wrapped around her small frame and your lips pressed against hers. You’d have to be a complete fool to pass this opportunity up, and you’re only like 65% fool at most. The cute lil’ changeling reacts quite well to your initiative and cuddles up in your embrace, smooching back like your affection is the only sustenance she’s had in weeks. You’ve been imagining this moment since not long after you met Cornicle, and while it’s not going exactly the way you’d imagined, you’re still pretty damn happy that it’s happening.
You carefully shift positions, bringing the strangely-amorous changeling with you and tenderly resting her back against your mattress. To say that there’s a stirring down below is a damn understatement; there’s so much stirring going on that soup makers would be lining up for the chance to use your shaft in their concoctions.
Wait. Shit, that metaphor kind of got out of hand. Less thinking about sticking your dick in soup, more thinking about sticking it somewhere else.
Although now that you’re thinking about soup, that’s got your mind on the topic of tastes and flavors. Despite the expected place that your mind could take that, there’s a more pressing issue at the moment. There’s something amiss about this kiss, and you swear you didn’t intend to rhyme there. You thought you had smelled something slightly familiar as the two of you began to kiss, but now that your tongue is exploring Cornicle’s mouth, there’s a very distinct taste, one that you recognize fairly quickly despite the fact that you haven’t had any since arriving here.
It’s your second favorite thing that starts with B-O-O: booze.
That would certainly explain the change in behavior. You didn’t take sweet little Cornicle for a drinker, but you didn’t take her for the type to come ask you to stick it in her either, and look where you are now.
You pull away from the kiss, trying to make it look more casual than anything else. Your primal urges are begging you to get back to what you were doing, but those pesky morals that only show themselves once in a blue moon have chosen this particular moment to remind you that they do, in fact, exist.
A girl has entered your room, wanting to fuck. She is intoxicated and acting far different than she does while sober. And it’s obvious she’s intoxicated and not just a little tipsy now that you’re looking at the situation with these infuriatingly woke lenses. The sway in her step, the way she leaned on you the moment she sat down, the way her eyes seem slightly unfocused...you’re not usually able to tell that kind of thing with changeling eyes, so the fact that it’s now incredibly evident in them is about the reddest of red flags that there is.
You want to bed her so badly. Look, she’s even spread her hind legs to invite you to do just that. And what a sight that is...changelings, like ponies, typically walk around without clothes, but you’ve tried to be polite and not stare at what they’re all packing down there. Now she’s giving you front row seats to her own private party, and while you can’t help but observe, your stupid brain just can’t allow you to partake of those invitingly glistening folds...that look so soft and warm...
Focus. You want to bed her, but not like this. Well, you still want to, but you know you’d have to sit there and feel guilty, and then who knows how she’ll react tomorrow morning when she wakes up sober and wondering why she’s so sore...you know what the right decision is, and as little as you like it...
“I’m going to get you some water,” you tell her. That’ll buy you some time to think about how to get out of this without upsetting her.
“Okay!” Cornicle chirps. “And then we’ll do the fuck?”
God dammit that is hot. Syntax be damned, you’re ready to just adopt that as a regular saying.
Focus.
You give her a noncommittal nod before retreating to the kitchen. You pour a nice glass of cold water and throw it on your face. Then you pour a second glass of cold water. This one douses your poor Anon Jr., who clearly was not expecting that. The third glass of water stays in the glass, ready to be given to Cornicle. You buy yourself a little more time to think over what to say to her by deciding to clean up all the water you spilled. Totally part of the plan.
The easiest thing to do is probably to talk to her and distract her with other things until she forgets about doing the fuck entirely, at which point you’ll walk her back to her room. The mere concept of talking her out of fucking you eats away at your soul, but you’ve been known to do the right thing every once in a while, even if it’s to your detriment. Once everything is dry, you head back into the bedroom. A bevy of topics to talk about balancing themselves in your mind like a giant Jenga set that your id is desperately trying to topple.
“Hey,” you say as you walk in, glass of water balanced precariously on your dome. Getting used to not having hands and needing the next closest things to walk is a bitch, but you like to think you’ve adapted pretty well. “I got your...”
And she’s fast asleep. Cornicle has passed out on your bed, limbs splayed everywhere and her privates still on full display. Talking the lovely drunken changeling out of a good hard dicking is no longer an issue.
Now the issue is that she’s asleep in your bed.
Cuddling up to her might not be too unwelcome. It wouldn’t be the first time you two have snuggled. But it still feels wrong to get all up on her when she’s passed out drunk, no matter how much you’d like to. With a heavy sigh, you drink the water, then walk over to your closet, emerging with another blanket. You cover her with it, careful not to wake her or to brush against anything inappropriate. You shake your head, admiring her cute face for a bit before giving her a little kiss on the forehead. Damn that adorable changeling, damn alcohol, and damn morals. You leave a quick note for her on the nighttable, and then it’s off to the only other place you can probably go to sleep right now. And probably a bit of venting frustration too.
“Mmm...” the sleeping Cornicle mumbles just before you exit, squirming under the blanket you’ve provided for her. “Do the fuck with me, Anon...”
You’re probably going to need to vent something else too.
~~~~~~~~~~
“I really appreciate you caring that much for one of my subjects,” Thorax coos as he runs a hoof through your mane, doing his best to comfort you.
“Yeah, yeah...” you grumble, withstanding the urge to bang your head against him out of frustration like he was some manner of handsome, sentient table. He probably wouldn’t appreciate that.
“And I’m sure Cornicle will appreciate it too, once she’s awake and sober,” Thorax assures you, before pausing thoughtfully. “I bet she’ll probably still want to fornicate with you when she’s sober, too. Even more so, given how considerate you were of her well-being.”
“Heh...maybe...” you mutter, grinning ever so slightly as you look up at him. Thorax pounces on that almost instantly, as you should have expected.
“There’s that smile,” he teases you. “You act all tough, but under that gruff exterior, you’re such a sweetheart. My cute, sweet little pony~”
You blush harder still. He doesn’t usually get this intense with his teasing, and even though it’s embarrassing, a little part of you is basking in the praise.
“My cute, sweet little blushy pony,” Thorax says with a giggle. Your cheeks turn redder as you look away. It’s not normally like you to be bashful, but holy crap is he laying it on thick, and holy crap are you reacting more strongly to it than you’d have expected. Is it...yes, it is. It’s definitely having an effect on Anon Jr. You don’t need to shift just yet, but it probably won’t be long. Why is this, of all things, turning you on so much?
“I love my sweet little pony~” Thorax continues, easily egged on by the reaction he’s getting out of you.
“L-love you too,” you reply. Did he really just make you stutter? What are you, a schoolgirl? You’re not left with much time to think about it, as you notice his pursed lips. You’re not turning down that offer. As you lean forward, he takes hold of you and shifts you slightly up his body so your faces can meet properly without so much stretching. Those forelegs hold you tenderly as you begin to kiss. His smooches seem especially insistent tonight, but you manage to match his enthusiasm, even when you feel those lips part.
This is territory you two haven’t explored yet, but all things considered, you feel like it was only a matter of time until you did. You’ve actually been thinking about it for a little bit, so your mind is mostly ready when you feel Thorax’s tongue tentatively enter your mouth. You notice his eyes open and look at you inquisitively, as if asking for permission to keep moving in this direction without having to actually ask. It does take a tiny bit of mental effort to move forward, but after a few moments, you respond to his wordless question by licking at his tongue with your own. He seems delighted by this development, and the makeouts officially begin.
You used to think you were pretty good at this when you used to make out with girls back home, but you also used to think that you were the one in control of the situation when it happened. This time, Thorax is clearly in control, and his soft, smooth, and very dexterous tongue easily overtakes yours, working inside your mouth like a pro. You try to take control, but he’s got you so beaten in this aspect that you quickly surrender to him. Letting him take the lead is so oddly relaxing, and you’re practically on autopilot until Thorax pulls away. You’re not certain how much time has passed, but you’re also not certain you care.
“Ooh, that was such a nice surprise,” Thorax giggles, hugging you tenderly. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a bit, but I wasn’t sure how you’d feel. Then I just...decided to try! I’m glad I did.” Then he wiggles his midsection teasingly. “And it seems to have stirred something up, too~”
You blush, but you knew that there was no getting around him noticing. You’re rock hard, and the feeling of that semi-chitinous midsection rubbing against it sure ain’t helping.
You take a breath as you think things over. You were so ready to get it on with Cornicle before her blood alcohol level became an obvious issue, so that alone had left you feeling more than a bit needy. Thorax treating you like this, combined with that exhilarating make out session, has wound you up even more. And he did say a while ago that he’d be more than willing to help...
Are you really going to ask your bro for this?
He shifts a bit again, that alluring midsection rubbing against your shaft and sending another tingle down your spine.
You’re really going to ask your bro for this.
“...Hey Thorax?”
“Yes, sweetie?” Thorax replies. He stares at you with such reverence, as if you’re the most important thing in the world to him right now. God dammit your heart is melting.
“Uh...” you start, trying to figure out how to word it. “I...uh...I mean, I’m feeling kind of...”
He stares at you, that smile never leaving his face. He probably already knows exactly what you want, with his whole “being able to sense emotions” thing he’s got going on. He probably wants you to be the one to say it, though. And you want that too, honestly.
“Could you...uh...” you stammer shyly. “Maybe...help me out?” You give your hips a little wiggle for emphasis. Thorax’s smile grows, but he’s not letting you off the hook that easily.
“Help you out how?” the jerk asks. You give him a look, and he waggles his eyebrows suggestively.
“You know...” you say awkwardly, eyes darting back and forth between his eyes and anything else as you wiggle your hips again. The way that part of his body rubs against your member is more pleasant than you ever could have expected, so much so that you wiggle a little more just for the sensation.
“Are you going to ask me or are you going to hump my belly all night?” Thorax purrs. Your ears fold back against your head as you giggle nervously. The guy’s got you wrapped around his hoof, and now you need to get his hoof wrapped around you.
“Ugh...” you groan. “I want to know if you’ll...you know...” Then you take a deep breath. Gotta just put it out there. No more lollygagging; he knows what you want, he wants to hear you say it, and you have to say it now. “I’m really pent up, and if you’d be so kind as to rub me off, I’d be much obliged.”
There. It’s out there, and there’s no taking it back. Not that you intended to; you meant what you said, and trying to take it back would certainly make that smile fade from Thorax’s face anyway.
“I’d be delighted,” Thorax responds. “Go on, roll over.”
You’re quick to oblige, although it takes some effort to extract yourself from the comfortable position you’ve found yourself in. You’re sure the new position will be nice and comfy as well anyway. You push a bit against him as you turn your hips first, and even with the lack of pupils in his eyes, you can tell that his attention is now directly on your newly-revealed shaft, which is standing at full attention and practically begging for stimulation.
“Wow,” Thorax whispers, hooves moving to help you turn over and get comfy. “What a sight...why didn’t you let me see this earlier? I love it.” The praise is equal parts embarrassing and endearing as you finally end up properly on your back, front hooves curled up awkwardly by your chest. You feel so exposed as Thorax looks down over your undercarriage, his hooves gently rubbing your sides to help you relax because of course he can tell that you’re nervous. His touch is soothing, and you do manage to calm down a bit. The one thing that’s not calming down is your erection, which throbs with need.
“Are you ready?” Thorax asks, his right front hoof moving down to your hip and starting to slink closer to your package.
“R-ready,” you stammer. His left hoof snakes over your chest and hugs you nice and close.
“You’re sure?” Thorax asks. His right hoof is so close to your shaft that you can feel the heat from it.
“I’m sure,” you respond, slightly more confident but not overly so.
“If you don’t like anything that’s going on, just tell me, okay?” Thorax says. It’s nice to see him care so much about you, but you’re almost aching at this point from how badly you need his touch.
“Just jerk me off already,” you hiss.
Thorax doesn’t need to be told twice. He giggles at your insistence, and then you feel that hoof rest on the base of your shaft, just above your balls. Your hips jerk instinctually at the touch and a soft moan escapes your lips, much to your embarrassment. Despite your bold demand, the fact that you are laying on a guy’s belly as he touches your dick isn’t entirely lost on you. Thorax gently rubs your chest with his other hoof and shushes you, resting his chin just on top of your head and assuring you that it’s okay. His hoof ventures down to your sack, very carefully playing with your balls. He’s so tender with them, pushing them up and letting them rest on his hoof.
“You’ve got so much here to play with, big guy,” Thorax teases, his other hoof rubbing your belly reassuringly. You blush and mumble a word of thanks. Ever since you became a pony, your bits have definitely been bigger than they had been, but you weren’t exactly trying to sneak a look at other stallions to compare, and a lack of internet makes it difficult to Google the average dong size for a horse. You’re not sure you want that in your browser history anyway...although it would be a lot more normal here than back home, you suppose.
Your mind, which had been rapidly running off the rails for a bit there, turns back to the moment at hand as Thorax’s surprisingly soft hoof begins rubbing up and down your length. You tense up slightly again, but some more strokes, along with some reassuring words from Thorax, help you calm back down. His technique is so methodical and measured as he rubs from top to bottom and back again, every once in a while straying a little high to tease your tip or a little low to caress your balls. It’s not long before you’re utterly relaxed; putty in the hooves of your best bro in this world as he jacks you off.
“There you go,” Thorax coos as he feels you go slack. “Just relax and let me do the work. And if you want me to stop, just say the word.”
Stopping is not something that’s on your mind right now. A part of you tries to fantasize about Cornicle being the one to do this, but it doesn’t seem to stick. Every time you think you’ve got her in your head, Thorax makes one sound or another that reminds you of just who is playing with you. The longer you go, though, the less you care. Thorax has been so good to you this whole time. You’ve spent hours snuggling with him, kissing him, and all that jazz, and enjoyed every second of it. You love that green jerk, and isn’t this something people who love each other do sometimes? Even though you’d still love to get in bed with Cornicle at some point, you don’t need to fantasize about anyone other than the one who’s pleasuring you right now.
Thorax’s pace begins to quicken, and you barely restrain the urge to buck your hips to go with his motion. You’re just too comfortable to shift about any. You were so pent up from your blueballing with Cornicle that you’re surprised you’ve even lasted this long. A number of soft, pleasured moans escape your lips as that hoof moves faster still, trying to finish you off. You hold back as long as you can, letting that pleasure build and relishing in that wonderful pre-climax feeling inside you. The rubbing increases to a fever pace, and you feel Thorax lean towards your ear.
“Let it all out for me, Anon~” Thorax whispers.
You let out a loud cry as you cum, rope after rope of white shooting up and onto your chest. You’re pretty sure a little landed on your chin, but you don’t care at this point. The throes of passion are too strong to ignore, and Thorax’s cheerful giggle adds an exclamation point to the situation as you hear how happy he is to have been able to do this for you. You’re really lucky to have been taken in by him upon your arrival.
“Uh oh, somepony made a mess~” Thorax teases, patting your belly contentedly. “Did that feel good, Anon?”
“Fuck yes,” you respond, not too concerned about his usual reaction to your cussing. To his credit, he doesn’t seem to react like that this time.
Speaking of not reacting how you expected him to, there’s one integral reaction that has been noticeably lacking in him, and it’s not a verbal one. With the way you’re positioned on Thorax’s belly, you’re certain you would have felt his shaft underneath you. This concerns you slightly, even managing to break through the post-coitus ecstasy. You shouldn’t be terribly concerned about it, but its absence is notable. With the way he always is around you, could he really not be turned on by you?
“Is something the matter?” Thorax asks as he cleans you up with some tissues. Damn changelings and their damn emotion radar.
“I mean...” you say, shifting your rump a bit against him. “I’m having a good time, but are you?”
“What do you mean?” Thorax asks. “Of course I am.”
“Then why aren’t you...y’know...” You shake your rump again for emphasis. It takes a moment, but he eventually catches on. He’s a smart bug.
“Oh!” Thorax exclaims, grinning awkwardly. “Heh...well, you see, changelings have a great amount of body control, unsurprisingly. Trust me, I’m super turned on by all of this! But I figured I’d hide it since I didn’t think you’d want to be bothered by it.”
Dammit, he’s so great. Damn considerate jerk. Who else would literally hide their erection because they thought it would bother someone?
Well, pretty much anyone who wears clothes, you suppose. But this is different! And...dammit, you want to see it now. The guy’s been so good to you, you’re still feeling frisky...
“Well...I want to see it,” you tell him, taking delight in watching his face light up. “C’mon, bro, whip it out.” It’s nothing you ever would have said back home, but clearly a lot has changed.
“You’re sure?” Thorax asks. You give him a nod, and he gently nudges you to try and move you from your position. You reluctantly oblige, and now your eyes are glued to that smooth space between his legs where a dong should be. There’s a brief shimmering of light at his crotch, and suddenly it bursts forth like it had been held back by some sort of spring mechanism.
You’ve never seen anything like it. You know that’s a bullshit cliche that people always use in this kind of situation, but seriously, you’ve never seen anything like it. It’s got some similarities to your own equipment, but then it’s got this wider tip that’s a little more rounded on the end, and it’s got these...ridges on the underside? You weren’t sure what to expect when you made that request to see his junk, but it wasn’t this.
And you’re liking what you’re seeing.
You glance up to look at Thorax. He’s got his usual casual smile on, but even then, there’s a hint of timidity behind it. A certain uncertainty that he’s trying to hide with only marginal success. It’s the most vulnerable you’ve seen Thorax thus far, as if he’s hoping to impress you but not sure that it’s going to work. It’s goddamn adorable is what it is.
An impulse fires through your brain, one that completely and utterly goes against your typical mindset. It’s a clear violation of your typical bro code, but it’s pretty clear by this point that your typical bro code doesn’t fully apply as far as Thorax goes.
You decide to act on this impulse before your mind can suggest otherwise. Still making eye contact with Thorax, you lean in and lick the tip of his shaft.
This elicits the exact reaction you were hoping for from the king, as he lets out a surprised gasp.
“A-Anon?” he asks, eyes wide. You respond with a little wink, then give another lick, causing Thorax to let out a happy moan. It’s got a musky taste to it, and even though you would have never seen yourself doing anything like this, the fact that you’re making Thorax feel good is like crack to you. Another push forward and your lips slip around that tip, coaxing another coo from Thorax’s lips.
Your tongue darts around the head, recalling as best you can the technique that you’ve had used on you back home. You feel a drip of a liquid that you’re sure isn’t your saliva as your tongue passes along the bottom, and from the slightly salty taste, you’re more than sure that you know what it is. You swish it around a bit in your mouth. It’s tastier than you would have anticipated, though you can’t see yourself ordering it at a bar or anything.
Why does your mind go to such odd places?
You feel Thorax’s hoof rest gingerly on the back of your head and stroke your mane appreciatively. A glance back up at his eyes shows you just how much this seems to mean to him. You can’t sense emotions like he and his race can, but you don’t need that ability to read the loving look in his eyes. He whispers your name softly as that hoof rubs your mane, and then you feel the slightest bit of a push downwards; too gentle to be insistent, but a clear sign that he’d like you to progress a bit. You oblige, taking more of his length into your mouth.
The first of those odd ridges has entered your mouth, and you run your tongue along it, testing to see what kind of reaction that brings. From the look of it, that’s a rather sensitive area, if Thorax’s squirms and moans are anything to go by. You move forward a little more, tongue running up and down those ridges, delighting in the reaction it’s getting. You’re frankly surprised how easily this is coming to you. Suffice to say, you ain’t never had no dick in your mouth before this, and you sure didn’t have that on your bucket list, but here you are, blowing it like a champ, all for your best bro.
You let Thorax’s hoof nudge your head forward just a bit more, but there’s still a good third of his dick left unsucked and the tip’s just about at your throat. There’s no way you’re going to be able to take any more. Thankfully, your quick thinking reminds you of a signal you and an ex had to indicate just that. Hopefully it’ll translate over. You tap a few times on Thorax’s inner thigh with your hoof, and he luckily seems to understand, as the pushing ceases. What a goddamn bro.
Now that Mr. Soft Touch is done nudging you down, you bob your head back and forth, tongue grazing up and down those ridges like some sort of tongue that was grazing up and down some sort of ridges. Shut up, similes were never your strong suit. Though from all accounts, it seems like sucking dick is a strong suit you never knew you had. Thorax sure seems to think so. Good thing no one from your hometown will ever hear that.
You can feel Thorax starting to tense up, and that’s a telltale sign that he’s about to bust, unless changelings work differently. They probably don’t, so you start trying to decide just what to do about all that. Do you take it in the mouth or on the face? You quietly add that to your mental list of questions you never thought you’d ask yourself as you ruminate over the quandary, head still bobbing back and forth over that wonderful shaft. You hear Thorax issue a word of warning about his imminent spunking, and you take a quick moment to reflect on how polite it is of him to do so. There were definitely times where you forgot (“forgot”) to warn the girl you were with, and at least one of those ended with a very annoyed girl glaring up at you.
You don’t want to be that annoyed girl. So clearly the answer is to take it like a champ and not be annoyed about it. That’s your logic and you’re sticking to it.
You push forward as far as you can go, staring right up into Thorax’s eyes and giving him a wink. That gesture seems to send him over the edge, and before you know it, he’s crying out in pleasure as he begins to fill your mouth. It’s a heavy, musky taste, and you quickly close off the back of your throat as you realize how hard and fast it’s coming. You gotta die someday, but you sure ain’t gonna die choking on changeling jizz. You end up having to balloon your cheeks out just to hold it all. Damn, that king can cum.
You feel Thorax’s hoof stroking you lovingly in appreciation of what you’ve just done. If you were a changeling, you’re sure you’d be feasting right now over the love that’s surely pouring out of him about as strongly as his spunk was. You pull back slowly, dragging your lips along his cock until they pop off and pursing them quickly so as not to lose any of your payload. Now you’re left with a mouthful of changeling spunk, and the longer it’s in your mouth, the more you like the taste. It’s like a porn cliche at this point. Man-turned-stallion has first gay experience with bug, suddenly loves jizz. You could toss that on the back of a Blu-Ray case. Not even considering the possibility of spitting it out, you swallow that load with an exaggerated gulp, then open your mouth teasingly at Thorax to prove that it is, indeed, all gone.
“You’re amazing~” Thorax coos, clapping his hooves together. Even sitting there with a giant throbbing erection that’s still got remnants of your saliva and his semen on it, the guy is adorable.
And now you’re getting lost in his eyes, and your mind is wandering something fierce.
You just finished doing something you thought you’d never do after having something done to you that you never thought you’d let a guy do. You should be sated at this point, but you can’t help but fantasize about one more thing, and this one is a real hard one to swallow–no pun intended regarding what you just finished doing.
You’re a bit shocked that this particular thought sprung to mind. The blowjob was a little surprising and much easier to act on impulsively, but this is way beyond that. Yet it’s slamming into your mind like a wave crashing onto shore. Hey, you got better with that simile thing. But this idea is hitting you hard, and you can’t deny that you want it bad, even though you’re not sure why.
“Is everything okay?” Thorax asks, stroking your cheek with a hoof. He’s empathetic to a fault, that one. You couldn’t even imagine being able to hide something like this from him.
“I...uh...” you stammer like some manner of idiot, trying to voice what you’re thinking. Much like you, it’s harder than you expected. “Do...do you...feel up for another round?”
The bug regards you with an inviting smile, but then it dims slightly. He tilts his head to the side, then angles his nose up as if picking up on a scent. Then his gaze into your eyes becomes intense. It’s kind of a mixture of shock and uncertainty, with a little bit of hope mixed in there.
“Anon...” he says. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”
The way he says it is a dead giveaway. He knows what you want, he’s as surprised as you are, and he wants to make sure it’s an actual desire and not just a passing thought. The dude is so caring, you can’t handle it. You love that damn bug, and even though it confuses you that you want this, you know for sure that you want it bad. You nod and open your mouth to respond, but it’s quickly plugged by Thorax’s mouth.
The two of you share another passionate kiss as one of his hooves lowers to stroke at your shaft again. As this kiss progresses, his hoof slips lower, from your shaft to your balls. Then it goes even lower, tracing up your taint until the very tip of it prods at your pucker. You tense up instinctually, and he pulls back from the kiss to give you a calm smile.
“Don’t forget,” Thorax whispers. “If you want me to stop at any point, just say orchid.”
“Orchid?” you ask.
“Mhm,” he confirms. “It’s my safe word. You can come up with one next time, but I have a feeling you’re more interested in getting to the action than thinking up a safe word.” That hoof prods your rear entrance again, and you let out a tiny groan. “Now be a good boy and reach into the top drawer of the nighttable?” You’re quick to comply, and your cheeks color furiously as you pull out a bottle of lube. Thorax takes it from you, giving you another little kiss as he opens it.
“On your belly, sweetie,” Thorax tells you. You can’t even think of disobeying and do so immediately. You’re still trembling a bit, but Thorax’s nuzzles and nips at your neck help to calm you down, even as you hear the lewd sound of the lube bottle’s contents drenching his hoof and then rubbing over his length. Then you feel that hoof against your rear entrance again, this time colder and wetter than before. You shiver and let out a small moan, and you’re sure you hear him call you adorable as he gets you ready.
“I’m not going to lie, it’s going to hurt at first,” Thorax tells you, his exploring hoof now feeling more natural back there than before. “But if you can make it through that, I promise you’ll love it. And if you don’t, you know the safe word. Okay?” He stops rubbing for the moment, but leaves his hoof where it is as he awaits your response.
“Ngh...” you groan quietly before looking back at him. His erection, now glistening with lube, is tall and frankly intimidating from this angle. “...If all my farts are silent after this, I’m going to kill you.”
“Oh thank goodness,” Thorax laughs, rubbing at your entrance again. “You hadn’t said anything rude to me in so long, I thought I’d broken you.” He kisses your neck again, then pulls away from you completely. Not being in contact with him feels foreign at this point, but you know that there’s going to be some extreme contact shortly. Sure enough, you hear him adjusting his position, and you can tell just from the shadow he casts that he’s now standing over you. His front hooves plant on either side of you, and the one you stare at happens to be the one that was teasing you, based on the lube that still remains on it.
This is really happening. Your butt virginity is soon to be a distant memory.
Thorax lowers himself down, and you feel his larger frame make contact with your smaller one. Then, after a bit of shifting on his part, you feel it. The tip of his royal cock, kissing at your greased-up and questionably-ready pucker. Holy fuckballs, that alone feels weird and he’s not even inside yet. You tense up again, and he stops where he is, concentrating more on nuzzling at your neck and behind your ear. You stretch your neck out to accept his affections, and they’re certainly having a calming effect on you despite the turgid member resting against your pooter and awaiting clearance to dock.
It takes a little more coaxing before you’re able to relax yourself enough for him to attempt to make progress. He asks you once again if you’re ready, and you let him know that you’re about as ready as you’ll ever be. You feel him shift his hips, and oh god it’s moving. You try to loosen as much as possible and holy crap it’s actually going inside. It’s like you’re taking a shit, but it’s a particularly tough one, and also in reverse, and that may be the worst thing you’ve ever envisioned. Thorax is going nice and slow for you, but you can feel the pain start regardless. You always prided yourself on being tough, though, and while it hurts, it’s not an unbearable pain. You can’t, however, stop the whine that escapes your lips. It’s an odd one, that whine. A mixture of pain and pleasure, because even though the pain is at the forefront of your mind at the moment, there’s definitely a more pleasurable feeling beneath it.
“Ngh...it’s so tight...” Thorax moans. Of course it’s tight! You’d be concerned if it wasn’t! His cock is big and amazing, but it feels about twenty times bigger as it finds a new temporary home inside you. You clutch the pillow in front of you, muffling your groans and whines as he eases himself carefully inside, more and more of that length being hugged by your hole. Now you know what being a pillow biter really means.
Some of the pain is starting to subside now, though it hasn’t faded completely. It’s rapidly being replaced by a pleasant feeling of fullness and connection with Thorax, who’s returned to nuzzling and kissing at your jawline as he claims your butt as his own. And god, does it feel nice to be claimed as such, far nicer than you ever would have expected.
Just as you were getting used to the fullness, your lover pulls back, cooing in joy as his member rubs against your walls. You moan along with him, that brief feeling of emptiness quickly being forgotten as he pushes back into you. To call it a thrust would be generous; he’s clearly taking it slow for your benefit, and you love him that much more for it. Your hooves dig into the mattress as he hilts himself inside you, and you can’t believe you can actually fit all of that in there. Your ass is far roomier than you thought. You silently add that to your mental list of things you never thought you’d think as well.
Thorax finally starts to piston now that you seem to be used to the feeling, and you shudder slightly as you hear the soft, almost girlish moans coming from you as he pumps into you. He’s still going fairly slow, but the extra motion is making the experience that much better. You can just barely feel the ridges on the underside of his cock as they rub against your walls, and now the concept of “ridged for her pleasure” makes that much more sense to you. You’re still feeling little tinges of pain, but they’re mostly forgotten the longer the two of you go.
Thorax’s pushes can finally be safely referred to as thrusts now, as he increases the power behind them. They’re strong enough now that your body is being pushed forward with each thrust, with the added benefit of making your raging hard-on rub against the bedsheets. You always liked to think of yourself as the tough, dominant type, and Thorax’s typical behavior always made him seem like more of a submissive, but the larger king is clearly in control of the situation as he towers over your prone form, owning your ass as if he’d just signed the deed to it. The usually-gentle Thorax being in such solid control over you is driving you wild, and you start to try and push back into his thrusts, begging with your actions alone for him to go deeper.
You can feel Thorax’s thrusts becoming more erratic, speeding up and getting harder as he pounds away at you, and you’re certain the sound of his balls slapping at your ass can be heard from miles away. He’s getting close, and the thought of what’s about to happen combined with the way your cock rubs oh so nicely against the bedspread has you practically on the edge yourself. Plus, it doesn’t hurt that his dick seems to be shaped just right to stimulate your prostate at the same time. And of course it is, that goddamn shapeshifter. The things are built to harvest love, of course their equipment is optimized like that.
Sure enough, moments later, you hear Thorax let out a cry of ecstasy as he hilts inside you, and then comes the rush. You’re not sure how he could have this much in him after what you just swallowed earlier, but there he is, unloading into your ass like a faucet on high blast. The feeling of your insides being painted white with that hot spunk pushes you over the edge, and you proceed to make a mess of that lovely bedspread of his. The two of you moan in harmony as you simultaneously spurt, and you’re pretty positive your stomach has bloated to ridiculous proportions as he fills you up. That thought isn’t too important to you at the moment, though. The most important thing in your head right now is how much you love your bug bro.
After what feels like an eternity, the rush in your bowels finally comes to a conclusion. Thorax’s head has flumped down next to yours, and he’s immediately showering you in affection once more, nuzzling and kissing behind your ear.
“That was incredible,” the big bug sings, leaving himself buried inside you for the time being. “You don’t know how happy this has made me, sweetie...I’ve been wanting this for a while, but I knew you weren’t so sure about it, and I didn’t want to push the subject...”
“You talk too much,” you interrupt, shaking your filled rump lightly and causing another coo to escape his lips. “But...fuck, that did feel great...”
Thorax giggles in response and begins the slow process of pulling out. You’d think his dick was a dipstick meant to measure levels of cum as it withdraws from your well-used ass, coated in a thin layer of white. Speaking of white, a healthy amount of it gushes out of you once the plug keeping it in is gone. The tiny bit of worry you had about the mess you made under you on the bedspread suddenly feels very silly. Thorax is sure to be concerned about both of those messes eventually, but he sure doesn’t seem to be at the moment as he rolls onto his back, wrapping hooves around you and pulling you along with him. You sigh happily and relax onto him, only distracted by the way he pokes at your belly with a hoof.
“Heehee...it looks almost like you’re pregnant,” Thorax giggles. Sure enough, as you look down at your belly, your curiosity about how bloated you felt is confirmed. Your belly is definitely bigger. You could maybe pass for being a month or two into a pregnancy. You know, minus the whole “being a dude” thing.
“I’m not, am I?” you ask, with only a mild bit of actual concern. “Changelings aren’t one of those species that the male lays eggs in their lovers, are they?”
“Nooooo nonono,” Thorax responds with a giggle. “We still need a female for that. Don’t worry, I didn’t knock you up.”
It’s safe to say you’re relieved to hear that. The way he said it does raise some questions in your head, though. Could a changeling who was born a male shapeshifter into a female and get pregnant? What would happen if they changed back to a male? Or a different species?
You decide to utterly ignore those questions and rest your head back. You’re too tired for all of that.
“I love you, Anon,” Thorax whispers.
“Love you too, bro,” you respond as you close your eyes. “You and your big dick.”
“You’re making me blush,” he giggles as he wraps his forelegs around you and settles in for sleep. Then he suddenly shifts. “Oh fuck, the sheets.”
“Did you just say fuck?” you ask, bemused. “I must be rubbing off on you as much as you were rubbing me off before.”
“Oh, shush and help me change the bedspread,” Thorax laughs, giving your cheek a kiss before his movements force you to move yourself. “And when we’re done, I want you right back on my belly so I can snuggle you to death.”
“Not the worst way to go,” you yawn as you roll to your hooves. You try to move and bump your rump against his, but he happens to move just in time for you to stumble and fall over. That’s your luck for you.
“Should I carry you, clumsy butt?” Thorax teases. You roll your eyes and allow him to pick you up and put you on his back. You rest your head on Thorax’s neck and watch as he starts to change the bedspread. You feel a little childish and useless just being carried like this, but it gets you out of work and you get to hold onto him more. You can’t find room to complain.
“So do you think Cornicle will be upset?” you ask in one of the moments where Thorax’s mouth isn’t full of blanket.
“About what?” Thorax asks. “You were very considerate of her safety.”
“I mean about you fucking me,” you tell him. Thorax laughs and shakes his head. You barely have room to duck under an antler.
“Of course not,” he responds. “We changelings share our love pretty openly, if you haven’t noticed. It’ll be fine, and I’m pretty positive she’ll be open to getting in bed with you in the future.” He turns and gives you a wink. “That is, if I’ll let you away from my bed.”
You blush and look away with a faint smile. Thorax, knowing he’s hit a weak point, continues.
“Now that I know you’re open to sex with me, maybe I’ll seduce you into my bed every night~” he teases. “Maybe we’ll do it once a night, every night. Maybe we’ll do it so often that you won’t be able to get through the day without thinking about me filling you up. Maybe–ouch!”
Thorax rubs the antler that you just smacked and looks back at you in surprise.
“Thorax...” you start. Then your lips curl into a coy little smile.
“Don’t make threats unless you plan on sticking to them.”
The worry fades from Thorax’s face, and he sticks his tongue out at you playfully before the changing of the bedspread resumes. You sigh happily and rest your head back down on him. Things from here on out sure are going to be interesting.