I wish I could remember ever having slept so well. My night was filled with dreams of swimming, sex, and sirens. In the dream my body was long and sleek, built for the water.

Under the calm surface of the lake I flew, I twisted and sped through the water. My brothers were with me, and Feather too. We leapt and cavorted; we played like young colts in a meadow, and when we jumped from the water we arced high into the air before crashing back into the water.

It was a wonderful night, but light started to intrude. I reached for my usual blanket that was always on my bed in Sweet Apple Acres, and merely finding it missing was enough to stir me further awake.

Cracking an eye open against what I knew would be bright morning light, I caught a glimpse of a light gold coat, harlequin eyes, and the most amazing orange bangs falling over a perfect face. A smile pulled at my lips, and the thought of him sitting there waiting for me to wake made me feel special.

"There's my expert angler. Caught two on your first night, that's some kind of record." Feather flipped his head to one side, and his trademark bangs revealed one eye, while hiding the one I had been looking at. "They're both doing well; extra well from what I saw of them just before dawn." Feather's visible eye winked. "I think they might be expecting a foal, at least they tasted of that. I want to know exactly what you and Stereo got up to with them, but after my little surprise."

And with that, Feather Bangs slipped to the side in a way that yanked him out from under my gaze. A pony was in a bed behind where he had been sitting. The stallion looked back at me and blinked. His eyes were a deep blue, and his lashes were thick, almost like a mare's.

The hair of his mane was soft and pink, and it cascaded back from a very masculine face. His jaw was chiseled and defined, and despite his pink, flowing mane and eyelashes, nopony would ever mistake him for anything but a stallion. An amazingly pretty stallion.

Strong, sleek shoulders shifted, and as I moved, he sat up. We smiled at each other, and I couldn't help but trace the beautiful, pristine white fur down to his withers, and the glorious wings that were just below them. A pegasus, then. The stallion was a pegasus.

As my eyes traced down, I saw nothing but perfection, and found a note of both desire and envy grow in me.

Feather leaned in beside me, his mouth nuzzling against my ear. "It's just an illusion for now, little angler. Do you like my plan?"

My heart skipped a beat. I stared at what I now realized was a reflection. "Th-That's me?" I immediately looked down, and slim, white forelegs led from a slightly protruding chest. The world seemed a dream again, and I looked back at myself to see a pair of tightly folded white wings on my back.

"You approve?" Not far away—although far enough to not get hit when I whipped my head around to look at my new body—Feather Bangs had a chuckle in his voice. "Use the mirror. Look at what you will soon be."

I dropped off the bed. I could feel my heavy hooves connect with the floor, but the pony in the mirror dropped lightly to his hooves. As I took a big step, he practically danced. "It's amazing."

"If you keep feeding, I can hasten things. Your own magic will grow, and you will grow into a siren, but while looking like a pony, this will be you." Feather Bangs gestured at the mirror.

I gulped. It was the deal we had made, but not. I watched as the white fur of the shape melted from me. The pink mane and tail, such a soft accent to the white fur, fade to yellow/orange. The wings left, and heartache sprang up within.

Feeding. I needed to feed again, to grow strong, to let Feather Bangs make my dream a reality. The memories of my previous night rushed at me. What I had done to the mare, how I had acted, practically forced myself on her.

Feather opened the simple, sliding door, and pointed at a similar such door across the hall from the room I was in. "A McIntosh Apple is meant to be green, but not that green. Across the hall, little angler."

I didn't manage to get the other sliding door open in time. I burst through the entry to the privy, leaned over the bowl and retched.

Memories of feeding on ponies—eating something fundamental to them, something I had inspired—rushed to the fore. Each memory of each thrust into the mare made my body jerk. I heaved. My stomach spasmed.

But nothing came out.

Slumping to the floor in front of the bowl, I stared at the complete lack of any mess. I wanted to throw up, my mind needed to, but there was nothing to come up.

"A crisis of conscience is not needed, my little angler." Feather Bangs was behind me. His voice held no hint of mockery or derision—if it had I would have likely run away. "Do you think I would let you go fishing, feed, and not check that you released your food safely? Had it not occurred to you that Stereo Mix was there to keep you from harming those ponies?

"You took my bargain willingly. If you had asked what the full cost was, I would have told you." I felt Feather's soft hooves dance on my back before he lay down upon my spine. His mouth was right by my ear. All he had to do was whisper, and I would hear him. "I assure you, little angler, that I will not let you harm a pony. Those ponies adored you for one night. You gave them an illusion, a construct that will last them a lifetime. But fear not that there was lasting harm, if you went back there now they would both beg you to repeat the performance."

I stared at the water in the bowl. Memories returned again, but this time it was the mare's squeals of pleasure, the smell of the stallion's seed spilled on the floor, and the look in each pony's eyes—begging me to never stop—that came. I slumped against the commode. "What'll happen to them?"

"Given how I left them, one will end up pregnant and the other will be the first unicorn to walk on sunshine. But there is an important thing, my little angler, you must not feed from them again for at least a month. Other sirens might not care for ponies, but I think you know what I am going to tell you." He sounded so proud, so excited. I had to reply with what he wanted to hear.

"You love them." As I said the words, Feather Bangs nuzzled at my ear, gave it a little nip, and then sprawled on my back lavishly—I was, apparently, little more than a sofa.

"Of course I love them. Ponies are my life. Without ponies I wouldn't exist. My four favorite sirens in all of Equus used to be ponies." Feather turned a little more, and was now laying on his back, on mine. "You said you know the story of the three sisters: Adagio Dazzle, Aria Blaze, and Sonata Dusk. They liked ponies too, but they didn't love them."

"Ah know about them. Star Swirl The Bearded banished them. They destroyed towns." I turned my head to look back at Feather Bangs, and sighed at how comfortable he looked. He was kicking his hooves in the air cutely and all.

"They destroyed ponies. Their line of sirens fed on anger. They would sweep into a town, use their magic in subtle ways, and stir everypony into a fight. I hope wherever the old unicorn sent them, they starved. Surely you see how what we do is different?" He tilted his head just so, turned it to the same direction I was turned, and his lips brushed my cheek.

"When they'd destroy a town with feudin', they'd move on to the next town." I looked into the single eye Feather Bangs presented to me. "They—we—feed on strong emotions."

"Only the strongest." Feather just nodded a little.

I stared past Feather Bangs for the first time in my life. I saw a truth that I hadn't moments ago. "They worked ponies into a frenzy they would never feel themselves."

"Now you have it." Feather clopped his hooves together in applause. "And what do we do?"

"We put ourselves in the position a pony most wants to adore. We feed on what is already there." My eyes narrowed to points; I could see every detail on the wall behind me. "We use words and actions to be what they want. The sirens—the other sirens—made ponies feel things they wouldn't normally."

Feather Bangs nodded. "We give them exactly what they want. Try to tell me of a more fair way to pay for a little emotional energy, than making a pony's dreams come true?"

I heard a throat clear behind me, and I knew it wasn't Feather Bangs. "Oh you did not break the door down on my commode!" Bath Salts didn't sound happy. "I don't care which one of you did this, you are going to—"

"Ah did it, Miss Salts." I stood up, backed up, and turned to face pure fury. "Ah'll fix it."

"You bet you will!" Stomping her forehooves, Bath Salts glared up at me—and I realized, the pony on my back. "The commotion in town: that was all your doing, Feather?"

"Well of course, Miss Salts, we were just showing our new brother around town." Still on my back, still lounging, and still likely in the most adorably sexy pose any creature had ever partaken. "He really liked it, and I think they liked him, too." I blushed at the implications his tone all-but spelled out.

Bath Salts looked up at me, and her glare turned more inquisitive. Her hoof lifted from the ground, and she touched my cheek. She rubbed just once, then worked her hoof along the side of my face and to my jawline. It caught on something there.

"Feather, your new brother has started his molt. He must have fed well, I take it?" As Bath spoke, Feather practically leaped off my back and landed beside her.

Reaching one hoof up, Feather Bangs leaned in close. "Tilt your head to the side, little angler." I did so, more curious than worried. His hoof stroked again, and again I felt something catch on his soft frog. "Nopony would notice it unless they touched you, but I think Bath is right. Your fins are growing in."

It was happening. It was really happening. I wasn't a pony anymore. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and snapped them back open when soft lips pressed to my own. Feather Bangs' eyes fluttered closed just before me, my legs wobbled, and just as I started to lean into the kiss, he was gone again.

"My little fish is growing up! Soon you will have your fins, and a pretty tail, and the whole of Equestria will be your lake!" Feather Bangs turned, pulled me with him. "We're all just fish, McIntosh, and we may feed on littler fish, but we always let them go."

I followed as he led, and after he tugged me all the way to the edge of the water he spun around to face me. My heart beat fast, and I realized what he was going to do before he did it. Feather Bangs stepped backwards off the wooden platform, and using the simple expedient of gravity, and his body as a lever, pulled me into the lake with him.

The cool water felt amazing. Feather kept hold of my forelegs and stared into my eyes as we sank. I had no fear, not with him there. Part of me wanted Feather to lean forward and breathe for me the way Glamour Trot had done.

Feather, now in his full, siren shape, reached one foreleg out and tickled under my chin. I coughed, spluttered, inhaled water, and breathed it back out again. I stared at Feather Bangs, and I couldn't help but feel excited at his happy expression.

I didn't have the tail for it, and my fins were barely noticeable, but I could breathe water as freely as air. We swam and swam, and I couldn't remember a time I felt as good as the weightless feeling the water gave me. It wasn't exactly like my dream (I wasn't a pure siren), but it was as close as I could get.

But all things must end, and when Feather gestured to the surface, I kicked my legs, I shook my body, and with Feather Bangs pushing me I reached the surface. Consciously aware that my lungs were full of water, I turned my head away and snorted.

"Little fish, there are so many more graceful ways to do that. But don't worry, it is only a temporary measure. Once your gills grow in properly, you will not have to inhale the water to breathe it." Feather showed off by tilting his head back and, like a fountain, spitting a little plume of water into the air.

Sneezing a few times, and coughing once, I turned back to watch Feather slip from the water and gracefully turn back into a pony. "Is that why—why Glamour could breathe for me? He has gills?"

"That's right. He was my first little fish, and he is almost all grown up." Feather Bangs actually strutted, and looked amazing doing it. "Another hundred to two hundred years, and he could be off on his own."

Feather's sigh of wistfulness was just about the most adorable thing I had ever heard. I pulled myself out of the water and shook what excess I could free.

Bath Salts stomped out onto the wooden platform and glared right at me. "There you are. Done with your bath?"

"Uh…" I looked from Bath Salts to where Feather Bangs should have been, but he was somehow gone—there was no help. "Eeyup."

"Good! First you fix my door, and then you are going to learn how to wash yourself properly." The way Bath Salts explained it, I was likely not going to enjoy either activity. "Are you good with your hooves?"

Already walking away with the knowledge that she would be followed, or so it seemed, I had no choice than to walk after Bath Salts. "Eeyup!"

Repairing a door was just about the simplest thing. On the farm, I had built whole barns, but Miss Salts' doors were a little different. For a start, they were designed to slide, not swing. But the oddest thing of how she made the doors (and the walls too) was the paper.

By the time I was done building the frame of the door, Bath Salts brought out the patterned paper. I watched as she lay it down flat on the door, then carefully sandwiched it with little inserts. "You see how I'm doing this?"

I nodded, and moved around, so I could actually help. When Bath held out the paper for the next section, I carefully set the wooden inserts in and watched another set of panels form. By the time we were done I felt like I could make a whole house of the stuff.

"You are good with your hooves." Despite being a fully grown stallion, and despite knowing I was at least moderately handy with manual work, hearing the mare praise me felt good. "Go inside, I'll hang the door back up. Do you remember the room where I washed you down the first night?"

My old favorite seemed appropriate. "Eeyup."

"Wonderful. Wait in there for me." Bath Salts lifted the door high with one hoof, and carried it easily towards the bathhouse.

Walking through the building on my own felt strange. Every time I had been in the bathhouse, I had been escorted. I found the room Bath had used for me before, and slipped inside. Figuring what would be going on, I climbed up on the bench to wait.

I had almost drifted off to sleep when Bath Salts came in. The door slid closed behind her. "Off there. You can't learn what to do if I do it on you." Her voice had a laugh behind it.

Slipping off the bench, I moved to the side awkwardly. "Then how do Ah learn?"

Bath Salts rolled her eyes and walked right up beside me. Her femininity was powerful. Having Bath Salts close to my side made me excited, but just when I thought I could try to make a move (without using any power, and without feeding, of course), she jumped up on the bench herself. "You learn by doing. My mane and tail are precious to me, McIntosh, please don't mess up."

My eyes widened as Bath presented me with the cascade of hair that was her mane. "W-W-What?"

"You start with water. Clean, warm water. Rinse my mane out." I looked around, only to see a large tub of slightly steaming water to one side, and what looked like a wooden ladle in it.

Telling myself it was just like building a door I had no idea how to build, I could learn what she had to teach me. "O-Okay."

Bath took a deep breath that I could see in the rise and fall of her side. "Carefully support my mane with one hoof, and use the ladle to wet it. Start at the base, ensure every part is well soaked."

I did as instructed—this was a mare's mane, I didn't dare mess up—and started using the little ladle to wet Bath Salts' mane. I didn't recognize the happy little sounds the mare made until I judged myself done—and she stopped making them. "Y-You like this?"

"A strong and sure stallion washing my mane like I was a princess? What mare wouldn't. Don't be fooled, McIntosh, you could earn the devotion of a mare merely with an hour of pampering. Your brothers will teach you how to get her to that point, of course, but I can tell you that if I weren't being careful not to, I would be adoring you for this." Despite her words, I could sense Bath Salts' aura—full as I was, I couldn't have eaten from her even if I dared to disobey Feather Bangs.

"Yaint doin' so good at that." My voice had gained more countryisms, and I realized it was the focus I put into my task.

I heard Bath clear her throat, then give a chuckle. "And while I appreciate you letting me know to be careful, I am much happier to know you are such a gentlefish that you wouldn't actually nibble."

"Feather Bangs was clear. An' Ah'm kinda full." My admission got a giggle from Bath.

Rinse and wash and rinse again. It was slow work, but that suited me. It almost reminded me of plowing a field. I finished getting all the shampoo from Bath's mane while working in silence. The sounds of the bathhouse around us intruded, but didn't at the same time.

"Are you done with the shampoo?" Bath turned her head slightly to the side, and I held up part of her mane to show her.

"Eeyup. Ah rinsed it all out." I was relieved when she gave a little nod.

"The conditioner is next. Keep going." She turned back to face the wall. "What I am trying to teach you, is this process is slow and careful, and each step needs to be followed. Feather has asked me to teach you to take care of yourself, and I will do exactly that. Every morning while you are here, you will wash my mane, and I will wash yours."

Which, I quickly realized, would take up the better part of the morning every day. I hadn't even realized my hooves started to move faster when Bath Salts made a clicking sound with her tongue. "McIntosh, rinse my mane out and start again."

I froze. "Start a-again? From the 'start,' start?"

"Yes. Rinse my mane and start with the shampoo again." Bath Salts let out a soft sigh. "And don't try to rush this process, McIntosh, or we will be here all day."

I looked down at Bath Salts' mane, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "Sorry." I used the ladle to rinse her mane out again, washing it free of the conditioner.

Starting again, I kept to the slow pace I had used the first time. I rinsed her mane out, applied the shampoo and massaged it through, and then rinsed again. Reaching for the conditioner, I poured a little down the length of her mane, and started working it through the soft hair.

The rhythm of the work was easy to fall into, just like plowing. I barely noticed when Bath Salts spoke again, and I think she may have even had to repeat herself. "McIntosh, you can rinse that again now."

I nodded, not even sure if she could see me do so, and turned my attention to rinsing the oils from her mane. The hair took on a sheen that was undeniably a result of my work, and I found myself smiling as I finished rinsing.

Bath sat up on the bench and tilted her head to swing her mane to one side. "This is good work for a first try, McIntosh." She plucked a towel from a nearby pile and with a quick action swung it around her mane, lifting the hair and protecting it as she wrapped it into a coil atop her head. "Now it's your turn. Up you get."

I climbed up after Bath Salts climbed down. I was awkward as I moved on the hefty bench, but I managed to shift to the same position Bath had been when I had washed her mane.

An odd tingling ran through my head and neck when Bath started stroking and checking over my mane. She examined the hair, and even gently tugged on it. I wasn't sure why, but her efforts had my eyes threatening to close—I was relaxed completely.

"You have never cared for your mane in your life, have you?" Her question stirred my slowing thoughts, and my splayed ears twitched a little. Before I could get a word out, Bath began ladling water into my mane. "Didn't think so. Split ends. Cracked. This mane is a tragedy."

Her hooves had to be magical. Each time Bath Salts spoke I tried to open my mouth to reply, but by the time I managed to pool enough willpower, I couldn't remember what to say. What I did notice, however, was that she was working much faster than I was. Of course, she had done this a few more times than I had.

I thought she was done when she rinsed the oils from my mane, but she shifted her attention to my tail. There was going to be a moment of clarity, and I turned my head enough to see Bath Salts. She had a happy smile on her face that belied her opinion of my mane. "How bad is it?"

"Your tail? Well, I hope we don't have to amputate." Bath tilted her head to look at me, and I saw the mirth in her features. "I'm kidding, McIntosh. It will take months of work to repair this damage, but it can be repaired."

"M-Months?" I lifted my head from the bed. "But, I mean, Feather is going to—"

"He is turning you into a siren, McIntosh, I know that. But even a siren should take care of themselves. Now lay back down, this shouldn't take as long as your mane." Reaching a hoof to my shoulder, Bath Salts pushed me back down with the ease of a mare who knows somepony bigger than her will let her push them—and I did.

If the gentle tugging and working of my mane was distracting, having a mare as good-looking as Bath Salts doing the same to my tail was a lot more intense. The tugging against my dock reminded me of my new brothers, and as I closed my eyes I slipped into the realm of fantasy.

We were back in the couple's house, and I was riding not the mare, but Smooth Vibes. As I grunted, driving myself into his inexplicably perfect ass, I turned my head to see Stereo Mix biting at my dock.

The mare from the house was in front of Smooth, her rear in the air, her anus the target of Smooth's attention. Each of my thrusts pushed him to shove his tongue in a little deeper, penetrating her rear over and over.

"Little fish." Feather Bangs was there too, and he was standing behind me. "McIntosh, you need to wake up."

As was common, I had integrated what I could feel in reality with the dream. Feather Bangs was standing behind me, nuzzling at my throat, while I could feel Bath Salts rinsing my tail. I would have jerked upright, but Feather kept me pinned with the expedient of leaning on me.

"Oh, is this because of me?" Feather's hoof trailed along my side, reaching down until he got to my belly and—and my rock-hard shaft.

"I prefer to think it's for me. A mare likes to be appreciated." Bath Salts gave my flank a few gentle pats. "There is a reason, McIntosh, that I didn't have you do my tail." She turned and made it all the way to the sliding door before she gave one last word in parting: "...yet."

Feather's hoof closed on my shaft, and I felt the confusion from Bath's words melt into the certainty of Feather Bangs' touch. "Learn everything you can from her, McIntosh. Bath Salts is a wonderful mare, and she can teach you so many things your brothers and I could barely scratch the surface of."

"She's a mare." I blurted the words out, unable to get past them. "And—And you said not ta do anythin' to her."

"The pony you ate last night was a mare, too. You need to learn to please both sexes, McIntosh, although from what Stereo said you had things under control. You can have all the fun you want here, little fish, but no eating." Feather ran his hoof slowly along my shaft, and trembled under his touch. "Which is why I am here. We need to work on your body."

I tried to say something, but every time I opened my mouth, Feather Bangs squeezed my shaft just a little—it stole my breath and the thought that tried to escape my mouth. He nuzzled my chin, and I felt a rush of magic, but it didn't just come from Feather.

Power rolled out of my body, swirled around me, and was shaped by Feather Bangs. He climbed up on the bench and stood over me, stared down at me.

"Your body wants to change into a siren, and it will do that just fine on its own. I need to adjust its plans to include a new shape for your pony-self." Feather's hooves melted against my flesh, and even though I could feel that it was just a massage, there was a sense that he was pushing something into me, imposing himself on my very shape.

I moaned. There was nothing sexual about what he was doing to me, but that I would be worth Feather's time and effort.

As his hooves moved, I felt the magic inside me move, too. He wasn't working his own power, merely using that as a catalyst to move the energy within me. I wanted to tell him I had worked out what he was doing but, each time I opened my mouth, more moans came free.

I didn't pass out, and I didn't lose myself in the sensations—I couldn't. Each stroke of Feather Bangs' hooves moved part of me: part of the magic in me, and part of my physical body. Each stroke reworked a muscle, sinew, or bone.

Howls of bliss poured from me, but even as I realized he was done, I could have described everything he did. The surety of his touch reminded me of a book Twilight had given me to read, of a sculptor working clay.

"I think that was better for you than it was for me." Feather Bangs leaned down atop me and nibbled my left ear. I had not a scrap of energy left to so much as twitch it. "We will hunt again tonight, little fish. I admit to a level of curiosity as to who you will find next."

And with that, Feather Bangs slid off my body and the bench, and walked out. I turned my head to follow him, and realized how hungry he looked. It frightened and aroused me at the same time, as well as another excitement that grew: I was hungry again, too.

Author's Notes:

So I do this "Ask X" thing. X can be any pony within the story. You can ask them anything and they will definitely, hopefully reply. Keep the questions appropriate to the age-rating of the stories, and they will answer the best question in the author notes of the next chapter. The more votes a comment has the more likely I will get it to the right pony to answer. Try to keep it to one question per post! They will pick one question per chapter.

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