Echoen Balros sashays his broad hips, Echoen pillows hir breasts around your head. "I love it, I will adjust or truthspeak you as needed." LlunaBlue Grins in realisation as both your voices speak the same thing; every time you are spoken of, you ARE plural. Like the way a malfunctioning mirror might warp the reflection of a single entity. Echoen *In that mirror analogy, you find that there is no reflection - it's another reality, in which another you looks back. Balros behind you steps out of the mirror to also stand in front of you; Echoen steps out of the back of the mirror and rises larger than it was tall. The two squirrels push you forward towards the mirror and your other reality's self, also being pushed closer to you by the 'reflection' of two of him. Yet where they stepped through an open walkway, your cheek presses to your mirrorself's cheek, body to body, feeling hot fur and warmth instead of cold glass or empty air. Echoen stands aside the mirror and places hir hand on the back of your head, the back of your mirrorself's head in the reflection, and the back of the mirror itself where you cannot see. All eight squirrels step back as you begin to be merged with yourself right across the seam of realities.* LlunaBlue No longer being pushed through by squirrel paws but sucked through the mirror instead, the cute blue fox's confused screams become muffled due to simply occupying the same space as the adorable cartoon pony's body being pushed into her. Their brains shuffle together, bombarding one another with criss-crossed memories and functions. As they continue to be sucked through, their bodies develop patches of blue on yellow and vice versa, until mismatched heads emerge from one another's pussies, asping as they're immediately overloaded with the task of merely seeing through mismatched eyes of such different shape and size! LlunaBlue With brains of such a chaotic mess of different signals and memories and personalities and emotions, as they balance on ridiculously mismatched legs, as one each of their shoulders are now a buttcheek! Echoen What began as foxscreams transformed into ponysqueals, LlunaBloom's voice of much higher pitch and tenor, and released for a far different purpose; even the act of releasing air from lungs is like a fucking orgasm, and hearing such sounds soaks the mind in hormones and pleasure. When brain matter mashes together, neurons connect and light up, memories intertwine, fox and pony swapping histories as you pass through yourself and end up as two girls in one , split across two realities. Laughing, Echoen stops pushing and instead grips the edges of the mirror, and pulls - widening the mirror until it is merely an archway within a large house, splitting between two rooms. Both realities connected, so hir freak of a fuckmerged foxpony can exist between them. Echoen Echoen laughs again, hir sweet sound echoing through your shared minds and causing a third LlunaBloom head to erupt forth from your body; followed by your shoulders and second set of shoulders, twin pairs of breasts, a double-womb-stuffed tum, a fat butt on a set of doubled hips, and all four of your legs. A perfect hybrid birthed from your amalgamated original self. Your braincase twice the size of any one skull, your twin personalities squeezed together; Lluna can see most out from one eye, Applebloom the other. Balros steps forth to pull your newly birthed self back a few feet; you make eye contact with yourselves, Lluna to Lluna and Bloom the Bloom. Terror, confusion, anxiety and a desperate panic within Lluna's gaze; she knows exactly what she fears and she loves it. Mania, obsession, addiction and insanity within Applebloom's gaze; she knows exactly what she loves and she fears it. LlunaBlue And Lluna eyes open wider upon realisation then she can feel it beginning. New thoughts Blooming, seeping through her mind. Inwardly, she thinks: "(Oh no... oh no no no, I want it so much...! Don't... YES... F-FUCK!)" Throughout her mind, that one word stabs at her over and over, sending spasms and signals all throughout her warped body to direct all physical functions to work towards MUTATING and GESTATING. It hurts, being sent into both kinds of production overdrive; abomimultiplying chaotically, with limbs, cunts, heads and babies form rapidly across her. Her Bloom mouths taunting her with shouts of that terrifyingly powerful word! And Bloom will never fully take over; she will always keep the blue fox within her as half of herself. It'd be no fun to have nothing to torture so deliciously! And besides, even her blue mouths are smiling~ Echoen The word, thought repeatedly, fattens neurons and changes the brain, changes the body, the thoughts-on-loop fattening your figure for ultimate fuckability. Your heads and worlds swim with lust-drunk chaos, mutating into near shapelessness only to give birth to a clone or copy ready to lose coherence all over again. Swearing, cursing, sinning, mutating... In the house next door, a bunnygirl is livestreaming with her webcam on, chatting with her friends. She pauses, ears perking up as she hears... something. A scream in the distance, with a tone and tenor that makes her forget what she was doing and focus on what she just heard, what she just felt when she heard it. Her livestream chat goes crazy, as before she's even processed that word, her body is changing on camera. Blue-furred tits FWOOMP out two, three, five cup sizes bigger on her chest, stretching out her tank top. Nipples shove out into pony muzzles, moaning and whispering into the fabric, chewing on it. Her eyes go glassy as she turns back to her stream, bunny muzzle cracking open into an unhinged smile. "Ya FUCKING like that, ya perverts?" She shouts into her microphone with one tittymaw, while she cups her breasts and jiggles them into the camera. "Huge tits on cute lil' girls? HNNNNNGGG -- wh'... what.. what am I saying...? I'm... HNNGG I'm FUCKING talking here, sweetie, now SMILE for the camera!" The bunnygirl's eyes go wide as her muzzle -cracks- into an impossibly wide grin. Her other nipplawmaw starts shouting, too. "Any of you SLUTS watching this tream, you're gonna FUCKING cum and FUCKING love it and not FUCKING stop..." Downstairs, the bun's mom's ears perk as she hears her daughter cursing, swearing, screaming obscenities. But instead of racing up to scold her daughter, the older bunmomma suddenly bursts into tears, crying and sobbing over the sink as her breasts swell and juice pumps hard from her pussy, orgasm after orgasm ripping through her. She can't stop, she has to obey, she HAS to FUCKING obey..." Echoen A bunnyboy in the next room over is just playing with his toys, when he feels a fat itch on his tailhole and a pressure - a bunny-fox-pony head puuushing out of his butt. He turns his head to look on in shock, but the words his new head speaks sends him to the floor clutching his skull and squealing. "UURRGH, there we go! Alright, you! FUCKING become me! That's right, you heard me, BE ME" The bunboy thrashes and bucks, clutching his hands in large and growing handpaws, pulling at his changing ears as his personality is scrambled, his brain is -voicefucked- into someone far more petulant, needy and slutty. His eyes expand in his head and a wicked smile snaps across his lips, growing to almost pooltoy-esque insanity. "Shove yourself down in there and BE ME, you fucking horny slut of a FUCK!" His own mouth screams, skull shoving upwards and a second set of FURIOUS eyes opening above his originals. His muzzle pushes forward into a foxpony snout with bunny buck teeth, losing all control of his voicebox. Two of his, her, your, voices shouting at him and flattening his personality. The muzzle on his butt turns to look at the door and forces him to 'stand' on his enlarged legs, the bunbun trapped in his own body to watch himself walk backwards to the door, open it with a huge handpaw, and 'see' his mutating, sobbing bunnymom looking back at him. "Mom..." is all he can say, the last word he manages to squeak out before YOU/SHE finish his sentence. "...Merge with me right now, 'Mom'. Crawl your non-stop slut of a body over here and BECOME ME right FUCKING now. Make your womb - MY womb - give birth to me, and don't you EVER fucking stop.." LlunaBlue The teen horse in the neighbouring apartment had been busy with his usual Saturday afternoon routine: immersing himself in the pleasures only the combination of expensive noise-cancelling headphones and a carefully-maintained dubstep/pornstep playlist can provide as he whacks off to hundreds of opened tabs of smut. Unable to hear anything, the only thing in the room that could was his microphone, which begins subtly sparkling yellow as it sparks new sexecutables within the OST, and forces the motherboard to expand as it develops the matter for biological thought. The particularly sordid pornstep song that'd been playing at the time was the first "wrong" thing the teen stud noticed; he was well-versed and knew it by heart, and knew the moans definitely shouldn't be getting higher in pitch nor screaming "FUCK", but he didn't have much time to comprehend why before a cacophony of the same pierced his ears, and pierced DEEP. He immediately felt the approach of something terrible... he knew he was doomed to unending, excruiating pleasure, and he started fearfully screaming it, too. Before him, the frame of his screen wobbled and warped as if something were pushing it outward from within... and that's because something was. Many, many things, clawing and dragging back window frames to reveal the images in all of his porn tabs as the source of the screaming! And on that note, that too was getting worse... exponentially growing in volume and becoming filled with the gutteral grunts of throats warping and the pleasures of more erogenous zones forming all over them. There are characters from Sonic, Zootopia, Pokémon, Digimon, his more... guilty illustrations, each screaming and swearing and becoming Ponybominations as they struggle within their frames to gain more space. Eventually, that struggle results in their frames being pushed out of the PC screen itself, with a lot of help given from the pictures struggling in the windows behind. They float in front of the unfortunate teen as he has grown plenty more mouths and he must scream with all of them! He also has plenty more eyes forming, seemingly so it can keep up with all of the floating images to view; his body grows ample amounts of ample sections of the most perfect of pony-milfs in the meantime. Each image looms closer and closer as more and more spew out of his PC screen and as soon as they touch... as if each picture were a Malfunctioning Mirror all their own, he's sucked head-first into, squished against and shuffled within them ALL, scrambled and experiencing the excrutiating pleasagony of his mind breaking over and over as more of his minds form only to scream and immediately ponify again! Echoen Balros brings Lluna a present; an eyepatch. Something pretty to wear for her 9̵̔́th birthday party. He smiles at her delight as she slips it on, the eyepatch inside concealing a small round Malfunctioning Mirror. The eyepatch briefly bulges as she gazes upon the mutating teen horse in another reality, sees his screaming masturbation, and locks gaze with one Amy Rose eye staring back at her. The squirrel steps back as he watches you draw a breath, knowing what's about to happen, seeing the shocks of pink spiky hair twist the color of your blue fur. The other party guests clutch their heads as a twisted, high-pitched girlish scream -pierces- their minds, pinkifying their fur as well and bringing them to confused tears as their personalities warp, unable to stop hearing the sounds of your/Amy's cries of terror, orgasm, horror, desperate lust. The Mirror flits to images of Renamon and your vocalizations change pitch, yellow and black fur scrawling over new digimon digits that erupt from your hands and feet, followed by more foxtails. Partygoer's skulls expand with psychically screaming Amy and Renamon minds, eyes expanding into Applebloom pony gazers when the Mirror switches again. Pony legs erupt from your friend's hips and lift them higher than their normal legs, left kicking and thrashing, as Judy bellies bloat fat'n'full'n'pregnant on every single one of their midriffs.