“A...are you sure about this?” Cornicle asked, fidgeting in place.

“But of course, my Sweet. I assure you, you’ll be quite well received…” Hoity Toity purred, walking around the changeling.

Just prior to a week ago, after Chrysalis’ failed invasion of Canterlot, the two had happened upon each other. Cornicle, virtually starving and abandoned by his brood, had stumbled into Hoity’s shop, hoping for an easy meal. Unfortunately for the shapeshifter, the couturier had seen through his ruse. After a brief discussion, with Hoity gleaning Cornicle’s intentions, the two had come to a rather salacious accord.

Cornicle would serve as the stallion’s assistant, while regaining his strength, before Hoity Toity would eventually escort him from the capital. Of course, this meant periodic feastings from the little changeling, although the pony certainly didn’t mind. After their first encounter devolved into a rather depraved scene, neither of them had many complaints about the arrangement.

That being said, it was clear who was in charge. Hoity, both shrewd and exceptionally well hung, often teased his newfound apprentice, toying with the disguised changeling and leaving him to beg for release. Cornicle, having never been subjected to such torment, quickly found himself more and more drawn to the experiences, having had his latent submissive side nurtured.

And so, on this particular evening, the two prepared to depart for an event. What sort of event, Cornicle couldn’t say; all Hoity had told him was that it was somewhat exclusive and that he was to wear a specialty piece for it. While he was unsure of what to expect, the sonorous tone in his master’s voice hinted of something taboo, and the “outfit”, if it could be called such, only cemented his suspicion.

Cornicle stood within the depths of Hoity’s workshop, well out of view from the publicly accessible area of the store, as he gazed upon the mannequin. The blank figure, a stallion model, was adorned in a series of leather straps and lashings. While he’d seen the dummies used to show off various outfits and accessories before, he’d never come across any of this sort of clothing, if it could be called that, before.

“Speechless, I see,” Hoity chuckled, stepping to his assistant’s side. Coolly, he lowered his face, looking over the rim of his signature glasses.

“I...I’m supposed to wear that?” Cornicle gulped, studying the curious assortment of purple leather bands. Of course, he’d recuperated enough strength to disguise himself as a pony, doing so around Hoity’s shop regularly, although this sort of apparel would do nothing but draw attention to himself.

“It’s called bondage-wear,” Hoity noted, trotting around the mannequin. Stopping at its head, he traced one hoof along a leather strap on the dummy’s chest. “You have nothing to worry about, the party we’re attending will likely have a hoofful of stallions or mares in similar getups; even though I doubt they will compare to mine,” he continued, his gaze drifting from his creation to his assistant.

As Cornicle’s eyes wandered over the outfit, his shaft slipped from its sheath. While he wasn’t acquainted with bondage clothing, the concept was certainly appealing enough. Being tied up, played with, used...Images of himself, trussed up and tormented by the bluish grey stallion drifted through his mind, causing him to shudder. As if on cue, his master cleared his throat, causing him to shake his head.

“If you perform adequately, I may allow you to service me, after the event…” Hoity trailed off, disinterestedly adjusting his jabot. Of course he’d sate himself with the changeling’s throat or rear, once the show was finished, but dangling the promise, as bait, would prove quite motivational for the love craving changeling.

With the promise of slaking his desires, Cornicle nodded. Despite being on the receiving end of things, he still thoroughly enjoyed choking himself on Hoity’s tool. The stallion was, by no small margin, the most well hung creature he’d ever bedded. Add to that the pony’s imposing size, cool disposition, and ruthless sexual prowess, and Cornicle found himself virtually worshiping the equine.

“I’ll change now…” he murmured, looking over to the pony.

“There’s a good colt. Meet me in the foyer, once you’re finished,” Hoity calmly stated, turning to make his leave.

Yes, Cornicle’s training had been progressing nicely. Besides having an outlet for his sexual needs, the changeling was actually quite competent, following his instructions to a T while being able to make decisions for himself. If everything went as planned, which it usually did, he’d be able to show off his little pet project to a few of his associates.

Proceeding into the storefront, Hoity fetched a large, unassuming overcoat from below the register. It wasn’t one of his designs, being far too pedestrian, although he’d have use of it shortly. With the shop closed, he busied himself with adjusting his wares and tidying his displays a bit, while awaiting his assistant. Sure enough, in a matter of moments, the sound of hooves caused him to turn.

“Ah, there he is,” Hoity purred, his face cracking in a wry grin.
Cornicle, still in his changeling form, made his way towards his master. The purple leather straps contrasted sharply against his black hide. For some odd reason, he felt dirtier wearing the thing than he would have if it was simply nude. As always, when trying on something for the designer, he stood straight, legs parted slightly, so he could be properly inspected.

“Hmmm, yes, I do believe the byzantium was a striking choice. Don’t you agree?” Hoity asked, cocking an eyebrow, as he worked his way around to Cornicle’s face. The purple traceries over his obsidian frame were rather stunning, complimented even further by his sky blue eyes. “Now, be a Dear and transform into your pony camouflage. We wouldn’t want to be late, would we?”

With a nod, Cornicle complied. His disguise was simple, a cream colored unicorn stallion with cornflower blue eyes; it allowed him to tend to Hoity’s shop, while customers were around, or to run errands in town. While assuming this form would normally render him passable in the eyes of Canterlot's denizens, he had no doubt his master’s unique apparel would cause him to stick out like a sore hoof, unless...

“Oh, and put this on. You wouldn’t want to cause a scene, would you?” Hoity tutted, handing his assistant the overcoat. Taking it from his hoof, the changeling quickly donned the billowy garb. As he’d hoped, any traces of the scandalous garment beneath were concealed. Nodding in approval, and adjusting his mirrored shades, he turned to the door. “Come now.”

“O...ok,” Cornicle stuttered. Just as he went to step, the pony paused.

“Ok?” Hoity echoed, glancing over his shoulder.

“I mean, yes Sir,” Cornicle corrected, blushing slightly. He’d been drilled on the matter since he was given sanctuary. Informalities, while in private, could occasionally pass; but in public, or in the bedroom, Hoity was to be honored as Sir.

Without a word, Hoity nodded and trotted towards the door. He’d been preparing Cornicle for a night like tonight, and it would surely be one to remember, for the both of them. Holding the door for his assistant, and watching the changeling trot by, he locked up his shop. Turning away, Hoity silently led the way to their destination.

Under the warm light from the street lamps, the two strolled along the sidewalk. Cornicle had always been a bit nervous about going out, so wearing something so sinful beneath his coat only compounded his anxiety. It wasn’t terrible, since he trusted Hoity, but it just felt so naughty. His tool, still partially emerged from his now pony sheath, jostled beneath him, while they trotted along.

Thankfully, they didn’t have terribly far to go. Walking to a small flight of descending stairs, set into the side of a nondescript building, Hoity continued downward. Stopping at a large, heavy wooden door, he rapped the surfice a number of times. The taps almost sounded lyrical, or coded, and Cornicle wasn’t sure what to make of it. In a matter of seconds, a small sliding peephole opened, presumably to see who was there.

“Ah, Hoity, I’m zo glad you could make it,” a female voice casually announced, before a clicking noise could be heard. “Please, do come in.”

“Photo, dearest, of course I’d make it,” Hoity affectionately said. Stepping inside, he was greeted by his friend Photo Finish. The photographer and he had quite a history, often collaborating on projects and public events.

“And zees must be zee azzistant you mentioned,” she added, turning her attention to Cornicle.

“That he is. Quite an impressive young stallion, if I do say so myself. Cornicle, introduce yourself,” Hoity prompted, waving a hoof to the stylish blue mare.

“Hello,” Cornicle chirped, extending a hoof.

“So, you must be quite zee flexible young stallion for Hoity to take a shine of you,” Photo chuckled, shaking his hoof.

“Photo, come now, let’s not be too rough on him, yet,” Hoity chuckled, his boastful smirk reappearing.

Cornicle wasn’t sure what to think of the remark, either of them, so he remained silent. He’d only met a few ponies, since he’d been staying with Hoity, and all of those had been in passing. Releasing Photo’s hoof, he crept inside the dimly lit interior of the building. Stepping past Hoity, and allowing his eyes to adjust, he was greeting by a curious sight.

The inside of the dungeon-like room was lit by a number of candles, each of which was topped by a flickering blue flame. If he had to guess, they were enchanted with magic or constructed with some sort of alchemical solution in the wax. As far as he could tell, there were about a dozen ponies present; some of them weren’t wearing anything, which was normal, while a few were clad in some rather eccentric outfits.

There was a stallion in a leather getup, not dissimilar to his own, a few stylish unicorns mingling in a corner, and an androgynous pegasus wearing an extremely sparkly translucent toga. By far, the most interesting character was a mare loitering near the room’s center. Standing by a pole, atop a raised dais, the female was clad from head to hoof in what looked like a latex bodysuit. The only visible opening was over her snout.

Above it all, much like the subtle aroma of incense, there was an omnipresent miasma of lust. Cornicle wasn’t sure who these ponies were, or how often they held such events, but he had no doubt that they had a penchant for carnal delights. The gravitas of sinful pleasures of the flesh was nearly palpable to his innate changelings senses, and it caused his pulse to quicken.

“Cornicle, you can remove that gastly coat now,” Hoity intoned, waving a hoof at his assistant.

The changeling’s blush returned with full force, as he obliged. As he slipped the billowous covering from his frame, he heard a number of excited murmurs from the corner. Looking over, and assuming he was the cause of the commotion, his eyes widened. The group of pegasus were hungrily watching a svelte stallion fellate one of his comrades. He was so distracted, that he didn’t hear the sound of heavy hooffalls coming from beside him.

His ear twitched, as he heard a metallic click, followed by a gentle tug from between his shoulders. Turning around, he found himself leashed to Hoity, who wore a wolfish smile. As he opened his jaw to speak, the large stallion softly pressed a hoof to his lips, silencing him.

“I’ll politely ask that you don’t ask any questions, although I’ll attempt to circumvent as many as I can. My dearest Cornicle, this is a very particular sort of engagement, one with which I occasionally indulge myself. While here, you are my pet, it’s as simple as that. You will do as I say, when I say, and that’s all there is to it. Also, to assuage any mounting concern, there’s an unspoken rule at these sort of affairs. What happens here stays here, just amongst the partygoers, so you have nothing to fear of anything which transpires. I assure you, if you allow yourself to, you’ll have a grand time, so do try to relax,” Hoity explained, his expression softening.

“Y...yes Sir,” Cornicle stammered, his eyes meeting his master’s. He’d had no idea that ponies were capable of such debased social events, but he shouldn’t have been surprised, especially after his treatment at Hoity’s hooves. To be sure, they didn’t have anything even remotely like this in the hives.

“There’s a good colt. Now, go and and introduce yourself to Lash, she’s the darling in the latex,” Hoity instructed, sauntering towards the room’s center, with the leashed changeling in tow. While he’d asked his assistant to introduce himself, he was keenly aware of the contradictory request, considering he was pulling the young stallion along. Still, the illusion of choice was a potent one, and Cornicle obeyed.

Trotting behind his master, and towards the raised platform, Cornicle took stock of the situation. As they approached the room’s center, the assembled ponies’ eyes steadily drew to him. Despite himself, his stallionhood slipped further from his sheath. It was odd, he didn’t want to be the center of attention, being from a race specifically evolved for subterfuge, but he couldn’t help but be a little turned on.

Clipping the lead to the aforementioned pole, just next to the shrouded mare, Hoity unabashedly caressed Cornicle’s rump. “Lash, darling, do make yourself useful,” he noted. The mare groaned softly, licking her lips, as she blindly approached his apprentice. With the introductory act initiated, he stepped away, content to watch the scene unfold.

“H...hello, I’m Cornicle,” the changeling greeted, unsure of exactly how to handle the rapidly approaching mare. She didn’t reply, only breathing heavily, as she wandered over to him. Backing up, until the leash drew taut, she pressed her muzzle to his chest.

Sniffing his neck, she worked her way up to his face, before giving him a lick. Blinded by her apparel, she was left to feel her way over him. After sniffing his face, she moved down his body, past his withers, over his side, and towards his rear. Unlike himself, she wasn’t bound to the pole, so she could move about freely.

Cornicle watched, as she dragged her face over his flank. Timidly, seeing where she was headed, he looked around. As he’d feared, the ponies in the room were watching the situation develop. Hushed, excited murmurs came from the onlookers, with several of the stallions assembled openly sporting erections. Like it or not, he was now the central attraction.

He gasped, as the mare’s tongue dragged over his coin purse, up his taint, and to his hole. As soon as her snout touched his backdoor, she dug in, hungrily licking and suckling upon his pucker. His body acted on instinct, pressing back to meet her muzzle. Why was he so turned on? Was this normal?! The rimjob, while painfully exhilarating, couldn’t hold a candle to the lusty stares and ravenous looks of the ponies in the room.

Not wanting to upset the crowd, or his master, Cornicle lowered his torso and splayed his hind legs. Hoity, while a remarkably skilled lover, would only rarely orally service his rump. Sure, he loved to be fucked silly by the well endowed stallion, but he wasn’t going to turn down the opportunity to have some less intense treatment.

Trotting up besides Hoity, Photo brought her muzzle to his ear. “And you’re sure your...azzistant will be able to control himzelf?” she whispered.

“Photo, of this I have no doubt. I only ask, per our arrangement, that nopony breath a word of this. Oh, and I may need you to fetch us a coach, once everything is said and done,” Hoity purred, shrewdly cocking an eyebrow. He’d made her aware of his intentions beforehand, and she’d eagerly agreed to his proposal, which was good enough for him. Turning his attention back to the disguised changeling, eagerly getting his ass eaten out by the gimp mare, he straightened his jabot. It was almost time for the main event.

Cornicle’s erection, now at full mast, slapped against his belly. Having transformed into a pony, the mottled colored shaft stood at full length. He considered himself fortunate that he was thoroughly cleaned and lubricated, part of Hoity’s daily routine for him, so the mare’s tongue was easily able to plunge into his tush. Closing his eyes, just as he was beginning to enjoy the warm and wet sensation, he heard somepony clear their throat.

“I trust everypony is enjoying themselves on this fine evening?” Hoity calmly, yet loudly, stated, stepping forward from the throng. The gathering grew louder, as the ponies acknowledged his question. “I’m sorry it’s been so long since I came for a visit, but I think we’ve all been rather preoccupied, what with the changeling invasion and all,” he chuckled, drawing a few snickers and murmurs of agreement from the group. “Speaking of which, what do you lot think of those shapeshifting creatures?”

The partygoers tone turned markedly more cold, as the ponies grumbled and complained. Cornicle, while continuing to have his rear end serviced, couldn’t help but take note. While he wasn’t sure where Hoity was going with his speech, he was beginning to feel uncomfortable. Thankfully, he’d regained enough energy to maintain his disguise for several hours, so he should be fine.

“Now, I’m sure you’re all thinking the same thing. ‘Hoity, those dreadful creatures ransacked the capital and overthrew the Princesses!’ Yes, while they did cause quite a little ruckus, I believe they may not be the menace they’ve been made out to be. You see, they’re parasitic in nature, feasting off of love, and everypony knows that ponies have more than enough to spare,” he continued, his confident smile broadening, as he looked over the rim of his glasses.

Cornicle gulped. He was starting to get a sinking feeling in his gut, while listening to his master. Feeling the mare’s tongue leave his rump, he looked back, just to see her being guided away. Glancing out over the crowd, everypony had their attention on Hoity, who was slowly turning to face him.

“What if we could come to some mutual understanding with these insect-like equines? Say, arrange a partnership which was mutually beneficial to both of our species; we give them love, they give us companionship and aid,” he commented, locking eyes with his assistant.

Hoity’s comment, followed by the look he gave, left Cornicle with little doubt as to why he had been invited. He watched, as the large stallion stepped onto the small stage. Knowing better than to speak out, he remained silent. Even if he’d wanted to flee, it would have been next to impossible. He was tied to a post, in a room full of openly kinky ponies, so escaping wasn’t an option.

Trotting to his assistant’s side, Hoity placed a hoof on the disguised changeling’s hip. “What if I told you fine ponies that I had brokered such an accord?” he stated, his gaze sweeping across the room. A loud mix of inquisitive muttering and speculation followed, followed by a few confused looks. “Trust me,” he whispered, softly enough not to be overheard, having brought his snout to Cornicle’s ear. The shapeshifter nodded, albeit somewhat reluctantly, queuing him to continue.

“Now, dearest Cornicle, if you’d be so kind as to show these ponies who you really are,” Hoity intoned, running his hoof below Cornicle’s chin.

The jig was up. Swallowing hard, Cornicle undid his disguise. Brilliant emerald fire cascaded over his frame, dissolving his camouflage. The ponies around him gasped, and a few took a step back, as they were faced with one of the very creatures which attempted to overthrow their empire. Cowering slightly, he started, when he felt a weight settle upon his hips. Looking over his shoulder, he realized, much to his surprise, that Hoity had mounted him.

“Now now, there’s nothing to fear, I assure you. Cornicle is no more harmless than any other pony. Isn’t that right?” the large stallion purred, leaning forward and affectionately caressing the changeling’s neck with his muzzle.

“Y...yes, Master,” Cornicle responded. He could already feel the sublime heat from the stallion’s equipment against his tush, and it caused his heart to flutter. He had a some notion of what was coming next, causing his baser instincts to feed to claw at his sense of modesty.

Aligning his hardening tool with Cornicle’s entrance, Hoity’s gaze swept across the crowd. “Tell them you’re a good colt, Cornicle. Let show them they have nothing to fear from a little love bug, like yourself,” he goaded, prodding the changeling’s pucker with the blunt tip of his stallionhood.

“I...I’m a good colt. Please, M...Master, feed me,” Cornicle begged, fitfully pressing back against the pony’s massive cock.

“Oh dear, I don’t think they believe you, dearest Cornicle. Perhaps you should try harder,” Hoity clucked, taunting his assistant’s ass with a few halfhearted thrusts.

“Please,” Cornicle mewled, “fuck meeeeeeeee-” Cornicle’s voice raised an octave, as the stallionhood at the pressure at his backdoor gradually mounted, until the bloated head penetrated him.

His eyes rolled back, feeling the blunt tip glide past his prostate, as it ground deeper into his bowels. His pucker, after nearly a week of constant use, afforded little resistance to Hoity’s medial ring. Before he knew it, the stylish pony was hilted within him, although he was given a moment to adjust to the massive insertion.

He braced himself, as Hoity began to withdraw, only to be rocked forward by a thrust from the stallion. Excited whispers and snickers drifted to his ears, from the onlooking ponies, but he was past the point of no return. He wanted this. He needed this. His lust, coupled with the pervasive desire of the ponies around him, spurred him to submit.

Skillfully, Cornicle relaxed his ass, upon Hoity’s plunges, while clenching around the stallion’s backstrokes. Steadily, their speed increased, leaving his now semi-erect dick to flop about freely. He could feel his insides being rearranged, as his colon coped with the titanic member delving its depths. It didn’t hurt, although it was extremely intense. Over the past week, he’d found himself growing more and more accustomed to the sensation, almost like a growing addiction.

Suddenly, Cornicle’s reverie was broken, as he felt something hefting his hind leg. Shakily, he looked back, just as Hoity hauled his limb upward. Having properly braced himself, he was able to maintain balance on three legs with little effort. The noise in the room grew, as the throng was granted a better view of the action.

“Just look at how accommodating he is,” Hoity snickered. Having lifted Cornicle’s hind leg, the partygoers were able to witness the substantial bulge in his partner’s his abdomen, caused by his gargantuan stallionhood, as well as a better look at the changeling’s bright blue equipment.

Cornicle was far too enrapt in the situation to care. As the crowd’s lasciviousness grew, so too did his own. Drool hung from his lips, and pre-cum dangled from his cock, as he was brutally fucked from behind. Glancing between his front legs, he watched his own inferior tool flop about, just below his belly. Like so many times before, the imprint of his master’s stallionhood could be seen, rhythmically disappearing and reappearing from within his gut.

Rocking himself back, hungry for more, his rump pressed against Hoity’s waist. Given their angle, the stallion’s medial ring was crushing his prostate, with each thrust. Crystal clear pre-cum leaked from him like a faucet, slinging itself over the stage, while he grew closer and closer to release.

With every plunge, Hoity’s heavy nuts slapped against Cornicle’s own. His pucker clung to the stallion’s length, being dragged out with each withdrawal, before it was rammed back inside. Hoity always found dominating somepony to be a delight, but having others watch him conquer a mate added an extra level of depravity to the situation. He could feel himself getting close, having abstained from indulging since the day prior, so he wanted to go out with a finish.

“Beg,” Hoity coolly intoned, hammering his hips forward.

Cornicle groaned, as he was rocked by the particularly forceful thrust. “Fill me Mmph up, Master. I Nngh I need it,” he implored, fucking himself on Hoity’s rod. He was almost there, gazing into the precipice of bliss, all he needed was…

“Good colt,” Hoity sighed, hilting himself. The head of his stallionhood flared, doubling in width, as it locked itself inside of Cornicle’s ass. His pendulous nuts, full of virile seed, retracted to his groin. Throbbing violently, from the gouts of spunk surging through its length, his cock exploded into the little changeling. Climactic pleasure aside, Hoity maintained his composure; he was, after all, performing for an audience.

Wave after wave of scalding hot cum bathed Conicle’s interior, causing his gut to gurgle angrily. Like a tidal wave, it coursed through his interior, filling him beyond reasoning. His mouth hung open limply, strands of drool dripping to the floor, as his senses were overwhelmed. Feebly, his brightly colored cock spurted his essence to the floor, but its volume couldn’t compare to the amount of pony jizz filling him.

The imprint of Hoity’s stallionhood slowly disappeared, as his abdomen steadily ballooned outward. Mercifully, his legs remained rigid, if a little shaky, allowing him to stay standing. While he was capable of producing about an ounce of spunk, his master could seemingly ejaculate pints of the stuff; at least, that’s what it felt like. He was so full, so blissfully filled, that his mind began to slip. As badly as he wished to stay like that forever, with a strong stallion using him, the moment came to an end all too soon.

“See, absolutely harmless,” Hoity huffed, straightening his mane.

On cue, two ponies from the crowd hopped up, each bracing Cornicle, as he dismounted. Hauling his softening member from the changeling’s battered hole, Lash leapt forward, as if guided by some preternatural sense, to eagerly lick and suckle the cum from the insensate shapeshifter’s gaping ass. Trotting around to Cornicle’s face, he smiled.

“See, I told you to trust me,” he cooed, lovingly kissing the changeling’s snout.

Cornicle was unable to answer. His eyes, blurry and unfocused, found his master, and he felt at peace. Just as his senses were starting to clear, Hoity stepped aside, as a stallion from the onlookers stepped forward. Even in his post-coitus euphoria, he saw the pony’s rigid length, and he knew what to do. Opening his mouth, his tongue lolled outward invitingly.

“Once we’re done, you simply must introduce us to some of your friends,” the pony tenderly murmured, presenting himself to the changeling.

Of course he’d introduce his hive to these ponies, why wouldn’t he? They were capable of feeding him and his siblings a thousand times over, so it was only logical. Hungrily, he coiled his serpent-like tongue around the proffered equipment, as began to service the stallion. Yes, a peace treaty would benefit all parties involved, he was sure of it.

Watching his pet sate himself on the pony, Hoity smiled. Of course, Cornicle had no way of knowing their little display had just furnished them with a cadre of allies. While the show may have had some flourish, he’d meant what he said. So help him, if it was the last thing he did, he’d help Cornicle out of Canterlot and attempt to negotiate with the changeling hive. After all, anything is possible with friendship…