Step 1: Apply Draconequus Liberally to Human
“Hey, Anon. I’m bored.”
The voice appeared as suddenly as its owner; the draconequus having blinked into existence draped around your shoulders like a thick boa made by someone who had never seen a boa in their life. Fortunately, she’d caught you sitting, so her weight didn’t throw off your balance as you stared down at the noodle resting her head upside-down in your lap.
“Hi bored, I’m Anon,” you joke, pulling your hands out from under her to set your book aside. Truth be told, you’d prefer to at least finish the chapter, but past experience with Eris told you that was a fool’s errand at best. Scritching her under the chin rewards you with a low purr - though, that of a car’s engine - and an upside-down smile as she loops her body around you a bit firmer.
“I am in the mooooood....” she croons, drawing out the last word, “to taste something. Things. Not to eat. I want something in my mouth to play with.” Her scaly eagle claw takes hold of your idle hand, guides it up by your head, places it against her warm, brown feathers, and moves it back and forth until you get the message and keep petting. “Anon, do you have anything I can put in my mouth?”
You sigh, a slight blush growing on your cheeks. The draconequus rubs her head back and forth on your lap and sticks her long, forked tongue out, still smiling that mischievous, snaggletoothed smile. But, as you move the hand by her neck up to her ear, running it through her currently jello-textured mane, you decide not to be quite so predictable. You take your other hand from her body and boop her on the snoot. “How about this? And no biting - you said you aren’t looking to eat, and besides, I doubt you’ve had your shots.” Feeling a little playful, you run your finger down her tongue a few times. It feels... cool, almost metallic - though, that could change quite quickly, just as her mane changed to the feel of corduroy when you weren’t paying attention.
Eris moves lethargically as she opens her jaws with a “mlaaaahhh,” then shuts them around your hand. It’s warm, hot, really, and closer to fabric than flesh, as though she just wrapped your hand in sheets fresh from the laundry. “Ey Amom, wamma fee me beepfroa’ yer arm?” she mumbles out around your wrist, her fabric-y tongue tickling your palm. Your mind hangs for a second, trying to figure out what she said, though your free hand keeps scritching her ear automatically.
“Uh, not really, Eris. That’s fine. I taste good?” Curious, you wiggle your fingers around inside her mouth, getting a pleased hum from the strange noodle. Eris gives you a quick okay, and then something white and fluffy covers your eyes, the scaly end of her tail wrapping loosely around your head to keep steady. “Wh- Hey!” you protest, but while you pull your free hand back to try to pull her fuzzy tail-tuft away, the hot, soft feeling around your hand plunges quickly up your forearm, making you bend at the elbow to match the angle of her body. Lion paw and eagle claw step carefully around your legs to move the chaos spirit’s head forward until her lips wrap around your shoulder. Despite your fiercest of tugs, her tail remains in place across your eyes while the hot laundry - er, her throat squeezes and pulls at your arm for a minute or so, before she finally draws back, her mismatched tooth scraping slightly against your arm until, with a sigh, she finally lets go and unwinds her tail. “Eris, I was offering my hand, not my arm.”
Eris half crawls, half slithers until she’s off from around your shoulders, now laying in a loose pile of draconequus across your lap. “Ah, my bad, I misunderstood. So, you’d prefer I don’t cover your eyes for the other one?” She tilts her head, looking rather like a curious dog, except a dog who has two mismatched horns, a pure-white mane, red-and-gold eyes, and a weird-shaped snout.
You groan. “Yes, Eris, don’t cover my-” as she grabs your other forearm with the look of a purple-and-green dragon who’d just found the biggest, tastiest emerald in his life, you realize your mistake in answering. “Wait, Eris, don’t-!” you exclaim, just moments too late. With a smile so cute it probably breaks the laws of physics, she chomps down around your hand, though thankfully the teeth never come. This time, her mouth and throat feel rather like hot, dry sand, though not nearly so coarse. Between her stretched mouth’s smile, her wagging, scaly tail, and the light, airy chimes she makes as her muzzle slides smoothly up your arm, it’s hard not to smile at her happiness. However, you snap out of it just after she finishes engulfing your arm, the bulge in her throat extending past her light-colored head and neck fur and pushing out her feathers a little. Understandably freaking out, you reach over with your free arm, grip her mane tightly, and pull her off, trying and failing to ignore the extremely lewd moans she makes from having her hair pulled. Surprisingly, she slides off easily. Even more surprisingly, neither what you grabbed her with nor what you pulled her off of are human arms anymore. Your right arm sports russet-red fur down to a black-furred wrist and hand, like a fox’s, and your left arm is sleeved in fine, iridescent-blue feathers down to a scaly avian claw, much like Eris’s but light grey.
You open your mouth for a question, but Eris has other ideas. She turns her head and leans in, placing her lion paw behind your head to pull you deeper into her kiss. It lasts only a few seconds, though she's quick to snuggle up to you afterwards, forcing her feathered body under your new fox arm and nuzzling your chest. "Mmm, thanks, Anon. You taste great, and you look adorable with your new arms and beak." She loops her body around you again, grinning.
"My what?" you ask, before bringing your paw in front of your face. You're speaking just fine, but... yep, that's a beak alright. Curved and pointy, like that young griffon you see around town. "Eris, why- what is..." you look at the draconequus, who tilts her head again, then keeps tilting, until she's gone all the way around. "Is this how draconequui reproduce?"
Eris snaps her claws and vanishes from around your body, reappearing in a burst of bubbles a few feet in front of your chair. Dressed in a short, black skirt and matching button-up top over a white blouse barely keeping the cantaloupes strapped to her chest in check, the draconequus tapped the blackboard behind her. “One of two ways, actually. As you see in this diagram, draconequui can turn other creatures into more of us. It requires significant contact with draconequus bodily fluids, such as drool, semen, vaginal fluids, or even blood - but that involves getting actually hurt, and why would I do that when I can do literally anything else?” she says in Twilight Sparkle’s voice, before stepping to the side and tapping a significantly more X-rated chalk drawing. “There’s also the good ol’-fashioned fucking route. And, as well as it’s going so far, I’ll be more than happy to help you learn about that after I’m done.” With a hungry glint in her eye, Eris slithers out of her outfit and through the air, fruit still attached to her chest, before nudging your legs apart, laying her snout just inches from your crotch, and grinning up at you. “Now gimme that dick.”
After a few seconds of confused gaping, blinking, and sort of making sure your new arms still function like arms, you manage to speak, asking her, “you’re... not tearing off my pants before I can react, like you did my arms?”
She tosses her head to the side, catches it in her paw, and screws it back on. “Of course. Look, just because I take away people’s wills, regularly mutate their bodies to forms I find entertaining, replace their soda with diet to see if they notice-” Eris smiles at your sudden indignant expression, “-and mess with the very fabric of reality around them, that doesn’t mean I go around sexually assaulting people. Especially people I’m planning on turning into a draconequus and fucking.” A second, smaller Eris poofs into existence, floating over the bigger one’s head. She looks at where her head is, how close she’s put it, and shrugs at you. “Well, I don’t go around raping people. I’m getting better, but reformation is still a work in progress.”
The growing tent in your pants was just about ready to answer her itself - considering Eris, possibly literally - but you manage to keep your mind for just a moment longer. “If I say yes, it’ll probably turn into something else, right?” you ask, and she nods in return. “Okay, then, only on the condition that I can choose what you leave me with. Like, a dragon's. Spike showed off for truth or dare once, looked pretty cool."
Eris gives you a wide grin. Slightly concerned, you hand it back to her, and with a snap of her paw, your pants vanish, replaced by two heads of an Eris-hydra happily sucking at your limbs, an odd sensation, given that they both still feel like your pants, just pants that suck on your legs. You quirk an eyebrow at the middle head of the chaos tri-noodle, who simply smiles, sticks out her tongue, and slides it slowly up your cock. To your mild surprise and more-than-mild pleasure, it - and her middle head's mouth - feels "normal," a warm, wet softness traversing your length. With a soft "mmph," she wraps her lips around your shaft and starts bobbing her head up and down, her mismatched hands pressing lightly against your inner thighs. That her neck stays perfectly still while her head moves is only a minor concern, most of your attention taken by the patternless motions: her lips sometimes lingered at your tip, other times she'd plunge all the way to the base of your cock and envelops it in a soft, warm embrace; her tongue, completely out of sync with the rest of her mouth, swirls around and around, taking unusual shapes to press against, around, and - once or twice - into your dick with slippery drool coating it from tip to base... and dripping down, out of her mouth and around your balls.
It isn't long before you feel a familiar pressure building in your groin. Panting, you reach out with your fox paw and hold her head down; as you lace your fingers through her mane, a static tingle makes your fur stand on end. Eris swallows with all three heads, pulling you into her while her tongue weaves around your shafts and runs up the sensitive undersides, as though coaxing your semen up and into her awaiting mouth. And with one final, involuntary buck of your hips, you give it to her, every twitch sending another jet of your hot, sticky seed across her tongue until, exhausted, you let your paw fall from her mane. The draconequus pops off of your groin, startling you and making you shudder while her head reconstitutes and reinflates.
After the shock wears off, you look down. Her side-heads that used to be your pants draw back, revealing one hole-riddled, chitinous leg of a pre-reformed changeling, and one digitigrade-looking leg with thick, grey-and-white fur, uncomfortably dry for how long Eris had had it down her throat. And between them now sit not one, but a pair of thick cocks, each with a series of ridges running across the underside. Having two is a pleasant surprise, although...
"Rainbow?" you ask the chaos noodle.
Just before her mouths slide off your feet, they turn into her arms, holding your ankles firmly in her own talons and paw. "Rainbow!" she replies. Before you can open your beak to ask another question, she snaps her tail and your new dicks stiffen again. "Okay, one, I can introduce you to the dragon who has these, and B, watch:"
This time, she brings her lips to the tip of just one of your shafts, and slowly moves down, wrapping the tip in a cool but pleasant embrace. You watch carefully as the red tip vanishes, then she steadily covers up orange, yellow, green, and blue, until just the purple base is left, with its twin rubbing against her furry cheek like a before and after picture. Eris then pulls her head up, grinning a snaggletoothed grin on seeing your face. "And for partners who aren't me, you can use it to track just how much of these monsters they can get down before gagging! Now then, what's next?"
Eris stands and yanks you up out of your chair, dangling you by your mismatched ankles. "Mm gonna miss that butt," she mutters, licking her forked tongue across her lips, "but on the flip-side, you get a nice tail! Ooh, and a- y'know, Anon? I think I'm gonna finish you off all in one go. You prefer to get stuffed up my snatch or my penis? My mouth is tired." As soon as she finished speaking, a tiny bed appeared under her chin as a sleeping cap shimmered into existence atop her snout.
Eris drops you back onto the chair, leaving you sprawled upside-down and staring up at her. Seeing her loom over you like this is intimidating, to say the least, and you suddenly find yourself empathizing with the Mane Six on their first draconequus encounter. "You have a dick? Aren't you a girl?"
The draconequus gasps, her mane dying itself blue as a shirt reading "Superwholock" unfurled itself down her long body. "Oh my goddess, Anon! It's current year, you can't be transphobic like that!" She snaps her talons and her mane turns white again, the shirt changing to display "top noodle." "But besides that, I'm also a kinky spirit of chaos who has a complete disregard for reality. I can have a penis. I can BE a penis." Eris vanishes, and you make a concerted effort to NOT look between your legs. "I can be YOUR penis! Here, have a go."
A scaly tail wraps around your furred wrist and tries to tug it towards what is undoubtedly a draconequus stuck to your crotch, but you manage to stave her off. "I really have a choice?"
"You sure do!"
"...does my choice matter?"
"Not in the slightest. Now c'mon, in you go." Her tail pulls your hand more insistently, and you finally glance down to see what the cute abomination has done to your dicks. Slack-beaked in surprise, you stare at what looks like someone chopped a two-foot Eris in half and stuck each half between your legs, her head staring at you from the left, her tail pulling your hand towards her own crotch on the right. Your hesitation and curiosity lets her guide your hand down to her slit; on entry, you - and her, judging by her expression and the adorable bleat she makes - are struck by a brilliant flash of pleasure, driving you to wiggle your fox paw deeper and leave a sizeable bulge in the noodle's body. "More," Eris says, both a command and a desirous plea, one which you are happy and eager to fulfill, both draconequus and draconequus-to-be panting as she's filled with paw, talon, and, once you can think straight enough to align yourself, even your beak fills her reality-bending pussy/your dick.
Darkness and a deep, inviting heat slip over your head and work their way down over your shoulders. Your breath comes heavy as you rub about in your own dick, drowning you in a potent, musky scent. The sound of Eris moaning, the unidentifiable taste of her arousal, the tight, needy squeezing of slippery, soft flesh sliding over you, all drive you into a near-mindless bliss, squirming and bucking your hips as they, too, follow you inside. From there, your legs would barely give any resistance if you wanted them to, and they're soon pressed tightly together, the last part of your body to enter the heat of Eris's long, slender body.
By the time you start to curl up in a slightly more open part of Eris's body, you feel much more flexible, probably on account of the nice "massage" her body just gave you. It isn't until your beak nestles between your multihued shafts, prompting a light twitch from the cocks, that you realize something is up. "Wait, if Eris is my cocks..." you start, not bothering to dislodge your beak as your new tail is pushed into the holding area, "...and I'm inside her, but my cocks are with me, than where am I? Inside myself?"
Eris giggles, rather than answering you. Your enclosure sways back and forth a bit, occasionally tightening, and slowly starts to fill with a thick, sticky fluid. A bit of it gets into your mouth, and it turns out to taste like... marshmallow, but saltier. It starts at one side and slowly fills sideways, prompting you to push yourself against the far wall of what must be your, or perhaps Eris’s, sack. The goopy marshmallow fluff reaches your neck before your head is pushed into a new opening, and you’re only given a slight warning in the form of the chaos noodle making a videogame-esque “locked-on-target” beep before the sack beneath your mismatched feet contracts rapidly, forcing you through the almost painfully tight opening. The viscous marshmallow-cum gushes up around your body and carries you along at what feels like a high speed until you finally see a bit of light.
Half a second later, you hit the ground, covered in, apparently, purple marshmallow fluff.
Your talons wipe the sticky stuff out of your disoriented, bleary eyes, letting you blink up at the spirit of chaos, who sports a broad grin and a shoulder-mounted dragon dildo labeled “Fuckinator 9000.” When she spots the sour look you’re giving her, she simply sticks her tongue out in a teasing manner, then continues to stick it out, until it’s long enough to reach you on the ground, wrap around your chest and wings a few times, and hoist you up.
It is at this point you realize you have wings. And, as you look at yourself, a new body. And a tail. “So, what do you think? Sexy, or just hot?” Her voice barely registers to you as you stare at yourself, taking advantage of your newfound flexibility. Your body is now noodular, like the lovably insane draconequus in front of you, though yours looks like a snake, covered in broad scales on the front and finer ones to the side and back. It’s concerning how unconcerned you are at the ability to see your own back just by twisting your neck and body around a full 180 degrees, but at least it lets you see your new tail and wings. On your left, some sort of diamond-ish green shape that purplesmart could probably tell you is technically the geometric shape called a kite, which has the interesting properties of- and even in your imagination you’ve already started to tune her out. On the other side, however, is a set of bug wings; not butterfly or moth or whatever, but real, membrane-having, bug wings. And right between them and down a few feet is where your butt used to be. A shame, it was a nice butt, excellent for sitting on. It has been succeeded by a thick, grey shark tail, which sways when you wiggle your hips.
“Eris.”
“Yes, Anon?”
“What, and I say this as sincerely as possible, the actual fuck?”
In a flash - specifically, a golden one - Eris wraps her lithe body around your own, her smiling muzzle just inches away from your beak, and the rest of her head nuzzling under your chin. In a low purr, she responds, “would you like me to show you ‘the actual fuck?’”
Time seems to stop as you think. In fact, it might have actually stopped; draconequus stuff is, of course, incredibly new to you. It resumes when you lean in to bump your beak against her mouth. “Well, two-to-one, my dicks have outvoted my head. Let’s see this actual fuck.”
Eris raised her talons, and snapped.