Fey jerked awake, panicked, hyperventilating, head darting side to side searching for threats.
It took her a moment to realise she was alone.
Alone in a… room? She looked around in complete confusion at what appeared to be for all the world a warm and welcoming bedroom.
“Am- Am I even in the dungeon anymore? What is this?”
Fuzzy minded she struggled to sit up, rolling onto her barrel and lifting her upper body. She had awoken on the ground, more specifically on a plush and fluffy white rug. Beside her was a large fireplace which was currently empty of fire. The room was instead lit by some form of magical light giving it a comfortable air.
Slowly turning her head she looked around, finding a variety of cupboards and armchairs and various other pieces of furniture and ornaments and in the middle of it all an extremely large four-poster bed with snow-white sheets and puffy feather pillows.
Fey considered what must have happened. She must have been knocked unconscious and then Flora had floated her out of the dungeon. She had never woken up, clearly suffering some form of dangerous head trauma which she knew was a real possibility as a healer, and the band not knowing what else to do had transported her back to Bine where she had been recuperating until now.
But… why had she woken up on the floor?
Dissatisfied with that explanation she managed to get her legs under her and shakily got to her feet, hooves flattening the fluffy rug. She wobbled then her knees buckled and she nearly fell, stumbling to the side and barely managing to catch herself, her hand slapping down on the nearby cupboard.
A sudden breathy gasp out of nowhere caused her to flinch in surprise and dart her head left then right searching for the source.
The bedroom remained empty, devoid of people. It was just her and no one else... But then where had that sound come from? It almost sounded like a woman’s startled gasp.
Strange. Very strange. She was sure something was wrong here but she couldn't quite say what. It didn't help that she still felt half asleep.
She glanced down at the cupboard and noticed something odd. The cupboard was spotless, not a fleck of muck or dirt upon its surface. Whoever took care of this place was obsessive in the extreme when it came to housework apparently. She ran her fingers over the wood and brought them to her eyes to inspect. She couldn’t see even a bit of dust. Frowning, she turned away.
Behind her the cupboard sagged, a shudder of relief rolling across its surface before it straightened back into place. The chair next to it gently nudged it in annoyance.
“Hello? Ella? Vivi? Is anyone there?”
Her voice rang out. But… it felt like it didn't carry very far, as if the walls were thick and solid, making her feel like she was especially alone. She bit her lip and approached the door, her hooves moving from the rug to clopping across the wooden floor.
She reached out and took hold of the doorknob and pulled. The door remained closed, barely moving.
“Is it stuck or did they lock me in while they went shopping?” she muttered.
She tightened her grip on the doorknob and heaved on it, using her outsized strength to try and break it free. The door resisted, then the doorknob started to pull from the door, extending on its metal rod clearly in an unintended way.
“Hnnn!” Came a girlish voice and the doorknob suddenly shrunk down in Fey’s hand becoming small enough to slip from her fingers and slam back into the door with a clunk returning the door to its normal state.
Fey squinted at the door… there was a small spot at about eye height that had tinted a slightly rosy colour. Was the door... blushing?
Now extremely suspicious Fey extended a finger and touched the wood.
No reaction.
She tickled the door.
The door remained still.
She continued tickling, upping the intensity.
The door started to shiver, the wood rippling, a sound like someone desperately trying to keep a belt of laughter behind firmly closed lips coming from it, air snorting from their nose as they tried to keep it together. They succeeded, that is until Fey started using her other hand and doubled the tickling, then they lost it.
A shrieked giggle came from the door which was quickly stifled. The door immediately returned to being rigid and unmoving.
“This isn't Bine at all! or a door!”
“No, of course it isn't darling,” came a voice from behind.
Startled, Fey tried to turn to see who had spoken but instead found snowy white sheets grabbing hold of her legs, dragging her up into the air, flipping her upside down with an unfathomable strength. With a cry of alarm she slammed down on the huge four-poster bed, large even for a centaur of her size, nine foot by nine foot.
She came down on the bedding with a bounce, sinking deep into soft puffy duvet, her upper body enswathed in a kind of seething bog of pillowy softness.
“H-Help!! Someone Help!” she cried out in a blind panic, her horse legs kicking wildly at the air even as the corners of sheets grabbed at them and tried to hold her still.
After five minutes of struggling and getting absolutely nowhere and becoming progressively more frustrated with getting absolutely nowhere she gave up, her legs and arms flopping limply in the grip of the sheets.
“Whoever you are, can you just do what you're going to do? You can't leave me tied to this bed forever you know…”
“But struggling is all part of the fun darling! That desperate fight to live, to breathe, like a fly caught in a spider's web, struggling to free themselves as the spider queen wraps them up tight, all packed up nice and ready to eat!”
Fey set her lips in a line. “And you're the spider queen?”
The sheets before her melon sized balls started to rise up, a hump in the cloth as though someone was beneath it, a someone with knife like ears. The cloth rose higher becoming more person-shaped, thin cloth sheathed over a curvy feminine form, draping in swooping arcs from nipples, sheeting across her shapely stomach and hips.
A hand rose beneath the cloth and the cloth started to sink into the surface, changing from cloth to pale naked flesh. Her ears became visible, longer and more goblin like than an elves, poking from her long multicolour rainbow hair. The woman, at first appearance, appeared entirely elvish, if with significantly longer ears and colourful hair. But that thought was quickly dissuaded by her irises which were a multicoloured chromatic oil slick of bright resonating hues, unearthly things swirling with refractive shatter light, beautiful to look upon. Fey had trouble taking her eyes away from them they were so hypnotically magnetic.
The woman smiled revealing her fangs, overly long canines that gave her a truly carnivorous appearance.
“Queen yes, spider no. Mimic in nature.”
“You’re like those we… J-just tell me, what did you do with my friends?”
“What does the spider do with the fly? Well, perhaps not that unhygienic. They are as they are, simply asleep, unharmed.”
“I don't believe you,” said Fey, crossing her arms.
“You can believe what you like, it doesn't concern me.” She looked down between Fey’s legs at the monstrous erection that lay gently resting up against her stomach, occasionally giving a slight twitch as the heavy thing throbbed with blood. “However this, this is of interest, quite why a meek female centaur possesses a tool like this I do not understand. More, I am unable to recreate it, there is a certain something about this penis that is… different… to others.” She rested her fingers on her chest and drew in air through her nose, her eyes closing momentarily. “Hmm and this scent is remarkable, I somehow do not grasp its make-up, it is beyond me. That is why you are here darling, I simply must know more, I must study you in the most extreme intimacy, I want to know allll of your secrets.” She smiled showing her snow white fangs and perfect teeth.
“And you will let me go after?”
“Perhaps if I am impressed.”
Fey loosed her arms, “That's not fair! You want me to put everything on the line based on- wh-whatever it is you want to do!?”
“You mistake me, you aren't putting anything on the line. Whether or not I am impressed will depend on my examination of your anatomy and you do not have any influence over the result of that outcome. You will simply lay back and relax as I enjoy my analysis.”
“I…” Fey’s brows drew together in concern as the mimic came closer, standing up, freed from the bedsheets. Fey had to admit the queen had an exceptionally beautiful body. Her hips flared outrageously, thighs swooping down in pleasing satisfying curves, her waist was surprisingly narrow for the size of her hips and thighs which only highlighted and exaggerated how large they were, wasp like. Above her mons was a design that looked suspiciously like a womb tattoo with a treasure chest motif. Her breasts were heavy and motherly, proportionately large for her five foot six frame, and suited to her queenly aesthetic.
The thing was, Fey didn't know if she was looking at this mimic’s true form or yet another fake thing… but then, why the eyes and the hair and the fangs?
She didn't have long to wonder as the mimic queen stood fully, stretching her arms and cracking her knuckles. She eyed the Base of Fey's shaft where her balls lay, two enormous things the size of melons that lay heavily against the centaur’s rear. She lifted one foot and allowed her toes to rest upon its surface, caressing the curve of them, feeling how little give there was to the things even when she pushed her weight onto them. Her eyebrows rose as she felt them growl in response, some vast quantity of seed churning to life beneath, moving, as though it could sense the touch of a female through flesh. In fact, she could feel something pressing back against the ball of her foot and she blinked down in surprise. The sperm were... trying to get at her? Throwing themselves against the inside of her balls in their desire to breed? Curious... Just how virile was this centaur?
The mimic stepped forward past the churning testicles and onto Fey, her bare feet pressing down on Fey’s horse stomach, her toes scrunching as the heat of the centaur rose up through her skin.
Of course, this was hardly close enough. She dropped to her knees and then rested her rear on top of the three and a half feet of dick, riding it. “Such pleasing heat, you make quite a comfortable seat centaur.”
The mimic queen rocked her hips, feeling how her ass cheeks were parted by the thigh thick length, how each vascular vein imprinted against her soft ass cheeks. She angled her body and allowed her muff to press down against the length, her inner lips brushing against the rough surface, tingling with the sensation. “Mmh, perhaps I shall enjoy this more than I thought.”
“If you really really really enjoy it would you let me and my friends go?”
“I cannot imagine that-
“Just say it!”
The queen rolled her eyes. “If it stops you pestering me, then fine. Which is more than you deserve after what you did to my girls.”
“G-girls? You mean-”
“Yes, you did murder both of them.”
“Murder?! But they tried to kill us!”
“Yes that is what monsters do, we are natural predators who simply wish to eat as a matter of survival, whereas you hunt for greed, that makes you murderers. Now hush while I lubricate so that it eases my taking of you.”
“B-but!”
The mimic ignored her, furrowing her brow in concentration as she looked down at her groin. After a moment Fey felt the queen’s cunt start to become wet, becoming heated, then, extremely wet, sloppy, and drooling, fat rivulets of herself rolling dark lines down the sides of Fey’s dick, soaking everything where she sat, clear slightly sticky fluid pooling onto Fey's stomach.
“Ahn! That comes with side effects, s-such sensitivity!” The queen looked pleased as she glanced down between her breasts where her puss pressed up against the log of a horse dick. She rolled her hips and then began to knee walk herself forward, her pussy sloppily sliding up the length, becoming puffier and more engorged as inch after inch of cock was drooled over, her lips reddening as they dragged over bumps and veins. Her clit poked free from its hood as she went and then swelled in size, growing from a cute little pink thing that sat at the peak of her puss to a fat thumb thick nub, red and angry, stretching out her clitoral hood as it was too large to fit. It stood erect and diamond-hard as she pressed herself down, grinding down on the top side of Fey’s dick, the insanely sensitive nub rubbing over every ridge and causing the Queen to gasp and squirm as she slowly humped herself forward.
“Hnff, it has been a while since I have sampled the more carnal things outside of mine own subjects, a little better than I- uhnff- expected.”
“Y-you don't know what’s c-coming!” Fey managed to grit out, her length tensing and pressing up against the queen, becoming more and more excited as the mimic eased toward the tip, the snail trail behind the queen shiny and glossy with wet.
“Hardly. Being a mimic allows for a lot more experimentation than other inferior species, you have no idea- ahhn- you have no idea what true heights of pleasure are.”
“I- Ah- m-might have s-some idea!”
The queen let out a gasp and fell forward, her breasts pressing down against horse chest as her overly swollen clit brushed up against the nobbled rim of Fey's penis. She didn't stop moving however, her thighs pushing her forward, her slippery pussy sliding over the top and falling down in front of the length, the head pressing up against her crotch, parting her thighs.
“F-fuck, this feels- why am I more sensitive than I intended…? N-no matter, distractions shall not slow me.”
The queen rocked her hips from side to side, each motion producing floods of her juices which spilt down the sides of Fey's barrel to wet the duvet.
Then she began to press herself back onto Fey. She had come prepared and Fey gasped as she felt the queen’s pussy shift, her labia moving off its own accord, hidden muscles that should not exist squirming, hauling open her cunt, inching across the surface of Fey. The queen’s clit moved and latched on too, curling and dragging itself across the surface, helping to open the queen, gaping her wider and wider. The sensation of the mimic’s puss hungrily spreading itself to engulf her was a startling one, but that was as nothing compared to what happened next.
Fey shrieked as something from within touched at her urethra, a soft squirming thing that explored her shape, circling the hole. That sensation was joined by another and then another and another until nearly a dozen of the things were licking and fondling against the head.
“WHAT IS THAT?!”
The queen looked up at her and smiled, her tongue emerging from her lips, a very very long tongue and growing longer, really more like a tentacle than a tongue. She licked the air suggestively before pulling it back into her mouth.
Fey stared at the mimic queen in shock, her mouth hanging open, the truth of what the queen had said about experimentation that non-mimics weren't capable of now truly dawning on her.
“Hnff, such size, it is admittedly rare that a mimic would wield such a barbaric tool. AHH!”
She suddenly shuddered as her cunt yawned wide, splaying out, spreading wider and wider, accelerating until her inner lips were nearing the edge and a field of tentacle tongues slobbered over the tip of Fey's dick, making swirling motions as though blowing her, the effect in total was an almost overwhelming sensation and Fey's legs kicked involuntarily at the air.
With a lurch and a SCHL-POP! the queen suddenly rocked backwards, her cunt thirstily engulfing the massive head, her inner lips stretching out around it paper thin as her insides wrapped tight, the dozens of tentacle tongues pressed up vice tight against the centaur’s length, barely able to move due to the sheer pressure, inching side to side as they still desperately tried to lick the surface.
The sensation was devastating and Fey cried out, her back arching, but that was a mild reaction compared to the queen. The queen’s mouth yawned wide and she let out a shrill scream, her fingers digging into Fey's chest as her thighs wobbled like jelly. Her clit went rigid, swelling larger still as she squirted like a broken hose, clear fluid spraying down onto Fey's barrel so hard it misted, washing down over her barrel, making her sticky with the queen’s juices.
“FUcCCKKAUUGHH!!”
The queen groaned long and loud as she came down from her shuddering orgasm, fingernails dragging lines down Fey's chest.
“Th-that-! THAT!” she breathed.
“M-more than you expected?” said Fey between heaving breaths, still struggling to deal with the insides of the queen constantly writhing over her dick.
“M-my mistake, I clearly made myself too sensitive… somehow…” she lowered her voice to a whisper and glanced down, “I am not quite sure how that happened…”
“So turn it off!”
The queen glared up at her then concentrated. After a moment she scowled.
“Why can I not…?”
“Is something wrong?”
“No! I have reduced my sensitivity, I h-have done so, there will be no further problems.”
The queen steadied herself, determination rising, and then heaved herself backwards, plunging down the horse dick, sleeving her own body upon it, going much further in one push than she clearly expected as her eyes shot wide. Her belly tented out, her womb tattoo stretching tall as her body wrapped around Fey, moulding to her enormity. Of course, this only exposed more of the mimic queen’s pussy tongues to Fey's length and the centaur whimpered as she simultaneously experienced both the sensation of the queen’s unusual musculature and the feeling of being licked and slobbered on as though by dozens of girls. It was an intense experience to say the least.
“Hnnnnnn!!” The queen curled her body as she was stretched open, parted by Fey, a sprinkle of fluid raining onto Fey’s fur, “G-gods that went in way too easy,” she muttered as her body then eased.
“What was that?”
“Nothing centaur, I am but focusing on analysing your anatomy, studying you, hnff- in g-great detail.”
That much was true, Fey could feel the mimic’s tentacle tongues lovingly stroking and circling her flesh, tending to all of her.
“W-well maybe you need a closer look!”
“I... do-? AGGHHHH!”
The queen gasped as Fey bucked her hips and nearly a foot of dick shoved up into her causing her to shriek and squirt once more. Fey abruptly realised she might have made a mistake as the head of her cock slammed into the entrance to the queen’s womb and it reacted, latching on, a great sucking motion coming from it as it made an airtight kiss on her urethra, in fact it felt very much like a mouth slurping at her.
“F-feels -so g-guuuuhdd,” groaned the queen, her words starting to slur, as she finished spraying. Her clit had grown with her orgasm, swelling larger, its clitoral hoodfar too small to contain it, squeezed back by its sheer size. The dick bulge in her belly brushed against the freshly soaked through surface of Fey's barrel, the queen’s skin becoming wet with her own juices.
Beside the bed the cupboard shivered, a tiny little gasping sound coming from within.