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 >your name is Anonymous
 >not that anyone seems to call you that anymore
 >the yellow pegasus on your chest, as well as the white unicorn you're using as a pillow, refer to you as "Master"
 >you stroke Fluttershy's pink mane idly, her warm hug and the rise and fall of Rarity's breathing setting you at ease
 >your ruler, Nightmare Moon, seems to delight in picking the most insulting pet name she can find for you
 >you find that a little sweet, in its own twisted way
 >she calls you "ogre" the way you might've called your Labrador "doofus" before you got pulled to Equestria
 >you accrued another name from the creature down in the dungeon earlier today
 >for some reason "prey" didn't resonate with you as much
 >maybe it was the way that the insectoid alicorn had hissed it
 >maybe it was the predatory gleam in her green eyes, or the way her tongue had run over her fangs afterwards
 >all you know is, you weren't a fan
 >the day hadn't gone how you were expecting it to, at all
 >which was a shame, it had started off so well...
 
 >you'd woken up to Rainbow Dash's stray feathers tickling your nose
 >her wings were splayed out across the bed, as was her habit while she was asleep
 >she hadn't moved from your embrace though, she was still wrapped in your arms, snug against your body
 >clearing your throat gently, she lifted her head up, wings folding back to her side on instinct as she rapidly blinked the sleep away
 >you released her from your hug and she hopped off the bed
 >reluctantly, but she knew the rules by now
 >you gave her a passive wave and she trotted silently back to her room, peeking in to see if Octavia was up yet
 >a quick freshening up later, and you stood in front of the full-length mirror, dressed in your work armor
 >stepping out into the castle proper, you made for the main entrance, eager to get morning rounds over with
 >instead, a guard stood at curt attention outside your door
 >he saluted and passed you a scroll marked with a crescent moon insignia
 >orders from the top
 >"Report immediately to the Southern Dungeon. Ascertain the threat and possible benefits of the prisoner to the Crown. Exercise caution in speaking to them. Do not fail me. ~NMM"
 >you weren't sure why she always ended her written orders to you like that
 >maybe it was just how she was familiar with you, like "Sleep well, I'll probably kill you in the morning"
 >so down to the dungeons you went
 >there were just a pair of guards waiting for you at the door
 "Just the two of you? There are supposed to be minimum two guards for each prisoner,"
 >you start to brush past them
 >"Sir, yes sir. We were stationed here to guard the prisoner."
 >Huh... just the one? Surely there was space for one more in the main dungeon, odd that they had this one secluded
 >Anyway, you pushed open the door, the guards following close behind as you made your way down the corridor
 >a passive glance or two at the cells told you this part of the castle hadn't been used in months
 >Through the next door, though, was quite a different sight
 >hanging by her forehooves, a spanner bar holding her hind legs apart
 >ring around her neck
 >you'd never seen a pony quite like this before
 >you marched up to her, though your guards hung back by the entrance
 >you brought one hand up to her body, running it over the black armor-like skin on her flank and feeling her softer middle... thorax, you supposed?
 >you quickly withdrew it as her head snapped up, reaching for your dagger as the changeling queen hissed
 >her eyes met yours and you felt the familiar tingle of magic slipping over you instead of into you
 >the two of you stared for a few seconds as she recast the spell with the same effect
 >holy shit she was really going to go for a third try
 >the effort actually made you laugh, reaching forward and slapping her before she could muster up another bolt of magic
 "Whatever that was, quit it."
 >there's no malice in the words, you just honestly hated wasting time which is what all magic was to you
 "Now. You ever been captured before? Got a rough idea of how this goes?"
 >she glowers at you but stays silent
 >you count off on your fingers
 "Name, species, position, do you know why you're here, what makes you think you're a match for the Lunar Empire, etc. etc.?"
 >the black bug-queen just glares at you
 >you smile back smugly
 >this goes on for a bit, until it's obvious she's not going to say anything
 "...O... kay then. Guards, how long has she been here?"
 >"Ah... five day, sire."
 >you glance back at the prisoner as you make for the door
 "Alright, well, I'm sure you'll be hungry enough to talk in another five. See you then!"
 >you actually have the door open and one foot out of it before you hear her mutter
 >"Chrysalis. My name is Queen Chrysalis of the Verdant Hive."
 >well, you smile
 >that's better
 >you stay where you are, not bothering to turn around as you talk to her
 "Aaand?"
 >she pauses for another second
 >"I am the Changeling Queen, ruler of my brood of drones."
 >you spin on your heel, striding back to her with the same casual demeanor
 >dangling the reward of food over prisoners' heads was never your favorite method of coercion, but it was damned effective
 "Well, Chrysalis, it is just a delight to meet you."
 >you'd need a mop if there was any more sarcasm dripping off the word "delight"
 "My name's Anonymous, and I'll be your interrogator for today. So, what brings you to the scenic Canterlot Dungeons?"
 >Chrysalis rattles one of her chains experimentally, but it's still holding fast
 >you grab an emptied rations barrel and pull it over so you can sit on it
 >"I came to this land seeking to end what you now threaten me with: starvation."
 >well
 >no wonder your starvation bluff worked so well
 >normally pones at least put on a show of strength for a day or two before they started begging for you to come back
 "And you thought you'd come to Canterlot for that? Not that you wouldn't have been caught eventually, but why not go to Ponyville or Appeloosa, someplace with, I don't know,"
 >you pretend to cast out for the word
 "a, farm?"
 >to your surprise, this time she's the one that laughs
 >"You think I didn't try? The width and breadth of the land is covered with despair; the only place with even a morsel of love to sate my hunger was here."
 >what?
 >you decide to try and interpret that statement while she's answering more questions
 "Whatever. So where's the rest of the hive? No soldiers dumb enough to follow you in here?"
 >she looks a bit shaken at that
 >but she regains her composure quickly
 >"What few drones were not wiped out by the famine were too weak to disguise for long. I may have failed to fetch them food, but I will not let them be harmed due to my mistake. They are hidden; you will not find them."
 >you'd almost forgotten what a ruler who takes responsibility for their mistakes sounds like
 "I think you're confusing me with some other interrogator."
 >you hop off the barrel and pace back and forth in front of her
 >it made you feel like a supervillain when you got to do this, but you have too much fun with it to care
 "See, I'm not here to bludgeon you half to death and maybe pick up some answers along the way."
 >she watches your walk with a dubious glare
 >she's probably used to being on the other side of this
 "I'm just here to collect some information, make a few notes, and report back to the Boss Mare."
 >you jab a thumb at the ceiling
 "You work with me, prove to me that you're worth keeping around, I'll figure out a use for you and we'll come to an agreement. Or..."
 >you draw the thumb across your neck, then point it at the guards on the other side of the door
 "You fight me, and the only use I'll find for you is target practice for the guards after pulling your wings off."
 >another noncommittal shrug before reclaiming your seat on the barrel
 >her face has lost a little bit of its color
 >which is impressive given that it's pitch black
 "So. First deal. Tell me where your drones are, and the orders will be to capture instead of kill-on-sight."
 >she bites her tongue, mulling over her options
 >"You will honor your word?"
 >if this were another common pony she wouldn't have the luxury of your patience
 >but you can accept a little hesitation for her to decide the fate of her people
 "A man is nothing without his word. Don't lie to me, and I won't be made a liar."
 >she sighs, obviously not persuaded by that alone
 >then again, what choice does she have?
 >"...the caves near Trotston, about three miles south. Tell them their queen's black chitin has been broken, they should come quietly."
 >you nod, keeping your face neutral
 >the guards probably wouldn't have thought to check there for another month
 >thank the Moon for cooperative prisoners
 "Good choice. I'll send the guards out to fetch them in a moment."
 >you kick at the food barrel you're sitting on a couple times
 >it lets out a hollow thump
 "First, though, let's talk about getting you some food."
 >you lean forward expectantly, hands on your knees
 >this was what you actually enjoyed about dealing with prisoners: getting to know their ins and outs, what they liked and what they did
 "Tell me, Chrysalis... what would you say your special talent is?"
 >she gives you a blank stare before her lips curl into a devilish smile
 >if she wasn't restrained five ways from Sunday, it might've concerned you
 >"Why Anonymous, don't you know? I am a changeling. We all share a common talent."
 >there's a flash of green as fire licks up her body, engulfing her
 >you never really considered spontaneous combustion to be a "talent"
 >when the flames subside, however, you're looking at a near-perfect copy of Nightmare Moon, hanging where the changeling was chained
 >you very nearly started looking for the keys when your boss's voice bellowed to be released at once
 >the only thing that stops you is the eyes
 >you normally feel your chest tighten when you meet Nightmare Moon's gaze
 >but the pone chained up in front of you has those same green eyes as before
 >you pause, then put the key back in its place and give her a slow clap
 "Bra-fucking-vo! Guess I should've known from a name like 'changeling', but still, well done. I think that's worth a meal."
 >she lets out a little huff, obviously disappointed that you saw through her
 >still, the promise of food does seem to placate her a bit
 >you stride over to the door, leaning out of it to talk to the guard
 "You. Send a platoon to the Shimmering Caves outside Trotston, tell them to bring harnesses. Capture ONLY. If I hear someone 'accidentally' offs a prisoner, I'll see to it they 'slip' into a knife wound or two. Oh, and bring our guest some..."
 >you look over your shoulder, curious
 "Carrots? Apples?"
 >for a starving pone who's being offered food, Chrysalis sure has a weird way of showing appreciation
 >she's glowering at you, like you just made a joke at her expense
 "Uh... meat?"
 >she scowls harder
 >you turn back to the guard
 "Eh... have Octavia bring me a dignitary's sample and send that platoon out."
 >the door closes with a click and you turn around, confused
 "...What? That was the deal, talent show for some food. In case you forgot,"
 you reach up and rattle a chain for emphasis
 "you're a PRISONER."
 >whatever rapport you'd built up had apparently just gone out the window
 >she lets out an almost-feral hiss of rage
 >"Betrayer! Liar! You promise me food and offer me dirt and flesh! What of your word?!"
 >you frown
 >reaching up and over, you give an overhead chain a tug
 >the ring around her neck tightens as you hold it for a few seconds, her hooves thrashing in their bonds
 >when the anger in her eyes gives way to panic, you let go
 >and then give it one more tug, as she's breathing in, just for a second
 "First, another reminder: you're the prisoner. That crown counts for fuck-all down here. Show respect."
 >she only coughs in response, still staring daggers at you
 "Second: If you don't like the food I offer, you can go right back to fucking starving."
 >you wag a finger at her like you would a dog who crapped on the carpet
 "Third: you ever accuse me of breaking my word when I haven't again, I'll have you playing Cassandra in the middle of Canterlot Square, telling ponies all the tales they won't believe about how cruel I am to you."
 >you don't particularly care that she has no clue what you're talking about
 >she engages you in another staring contest
 >makes it almost a minute this time
 >"...I cannot sustain myself on crops or grains, meat or water. I devour love. All else to me is as ash and seawater is to you."
 >Octavia pushes the door open as she finishes speaking, bearing a tray of meats, cheeses, fruits, veggies, and breads
 "Well then, I hope you enjoy the finest ash and clearest seawater Canterlot Castle has to offer,"
 >you sneer
 >Octavia just stares at you, stoic as ever
 >your shoulders slump as you turn to her, happy to see your favorite maid
 >"I brought the food you requested, Master. I took the liberty of preparing an array of drinks, as well. Will this be sufficient, or do you require more?"
 >you give her a smile, though it feels like it takes a lot more effort than usual
 "No, as usual you've been a great help. I think this is all I need at the moment, go practice that Adagio for tonight."
 >Octavia's reserved, grateful smile drops so fast you have to pause and wonder if there was some way your order could be construed as an insult
 >you turn around just in time to see a sickly green light arcing off of Chrysalis' horn
 >she licks her lips as it fades away, the moment cut short
 >"Mmm. Now that was a nice snack,"
 >she smiles to herself, oblivious to everything else
 >you're actually stunned for a moment
 >you grab an apple from the tray and cross the room in four steps
 >pinching her cheeks, you open her jaw by force and stuff as much of the apple in as she can fit into her mouth
 >actually a bit more than she can fit, really
 "Chew it."
 >your voice is like ice
 >she doesn't even hesitate, choking as she tries to bite off a chunk
 >you push more in as soon as she has the first bite off
 >and more
 >and more
 >you make her chew the whole thing, core, stem and all
 "Swallow it."
 >her eyes are beginning to water now
 >you just hold your fingers over her nose and push her mouth closed with both hands, staring in her eyes the whole time
 >she gulps, the apple forming a visible lump as it travels down her throat
 >you reach behind you for the next piece of food
 >a tomato
 >down the hatch
 >after the fourth piece of food, you turn back to Octavia, who is back to her stoic stare
 "Did I not say to practice that Adagio?"
 >she nods once and takes off, moving at a quicker gait than usual
 >you reach over and grab one more piece of food
 >a raw filet of fish
 >you roll it up and push it unceremoniously down the changeling's throat, not even letting her chew it
 >she gags a few times on the meat as she gulps it down, but manages to finally get it past her esophagus
 >you step back, still fuming, and survey her
 >tears are running down her cheeks, but she's quiet other than the occasional cough
 "...If you're as starved as you say you are, I suppose I can see why you would think that was a good idea."
 >she opens her mouth to speak, whimpering
 >"Please, I needed-- it was so delectable... Without love I'll shrivel up and blow away! I'll make it up--"
 >your hand lands on half of a cantaloupe
 >her mouth closes so fast her teeth clack
 "Let me reassure you, it was not."
 >you shout for the guards, and they come running
 >you gesture to the plate full of food, including a raw steak, a decadent treacle, a pineapple, and some plums, among others
 "I will be back after my rounds. She can eat it in any order she wants."
 >you stare into her eyes, so there is no mistake
 "If I find one rind, one pit, one crumb uneaten, I'll pull her wings off myself."
 >you turn to the door and storm out, slamming the door open
 >just before you close it again, you clear your face, look back, and with the most saccharine-sweet smile you can manage, give her a thumbs up
 "Enjoy your lunch!"
 
 >evening
 >or as close to evening as it gets in Nightmare Moon's kingdom, anyway
 >you've finally finished rounds in the neighboring villages
 >you had to put down a minor skirmish in San Palomino, that took some time
 >the green mare leading the opposition showed some promise though
 >maybe she'd try to lead a siege on the castle; you loved it when new "heroes" came to break themselves against you
 >you leave that little hope in the back of your mind as you make your way down to Chrysalis' dungeon
 >as you pass the empty cells, you hope stuffing her like you did wasn't lethal
 >it would be a shame to have her die before you discovered what all she could do
 >then again, a creature that can't follow your orders or survive its punishment isn't worth keeping anyway
 >the two guards look shaken as you pass them, reaching for the door
 >one salutes and unlocks it, but neither look in if they can avoid it
 >a quick scan tells you why
 >the platter you'd left with her is barren
 >instead, her stomach bulges at the middle, pulling her whole body forward to strain against the chains holding her forehooves up
 >that's not half as interesting as what lay on the ground before her
 >a pile of blue orbs, dripping in a thin green liquid, each egg a little bigger than your fist
 >she looks at you dazed and struggles to pull herself more upright, but with a groan she sags back to her slouch
 >"Urp... please.. no more... food... mercy..."
 >her face looks pale again
 "For a creature who can't feed on meat or fruit, you sure packed away that tray of stuff,"
 >you reply, approaching the pile in front of her
 "What's all this though? Trying to hatch a few helpers while I was out?"
 >she watches as you reach down and pick one of the pale blue things up, wiping the green sludge off of it
 >you look it over, turning it about and holding it up to the light
 >"I could not help it... you forced me..."
 >she whines, still looking a little ill
 >that sounds dangerously like an accusation to you
 >you toss the egg back and forth between your hands, now that you've gotten a feel for the weight
 "You must be mistaken. All I forced you to do was make the choice between a belly full of food"
 >you reach forward and pat her bulging gut for emphasis, rubbing it with one hand
 "and a belly full of lead. Never said anything about laying eggs."
 >she watches as you chuck the blue shell over your shoulder
 >it lands on the dungeon floor with something between a crunch and a splat
 >nothing in her face changes, so you reach down for another egg, crushing it under your fingers
 >for a Queen willing to risk her life but not her army's, she doesn't seem to care about your casual infanticide too much
 >then it hits you
 >these are probably barren, if she's been hanging here without interaction for almost a week
 >you restrain your facepalm and stand back up, looking into her eyes
 "Well, no matter. I'll have them sent down to the kitchen and you can have a nice omelet for breakfast tomorrow."
 >that earns you the look of revulsion you were hoping for
 >you summon a guard, and set him to the task of collecting the changeling's futile attempts at a brood
 >when he leaves for the kitchen, you order him to return with a barrel of apples and a prisoner
 >under your breath, you tell him to choose one marked for execution
 >that way, you reason to yourself, if things go south all you've done is saved the effort of tying another noose
 >when he's on his way, you turn back to the queen and approach once more
 >you can tell she's still itching to sink her teeth into you
 >but now it's at least tempered with a bit of caution
 >she doesn't need to say a word, you recognize progress when you see it
 "So... it's been a bit. Where were we?"
 >you tap your finger on your chin, trying to remember
 "Oh, right. You were giving me reasons not to turn you and your hive into a delicacy for the gryphon chancellor and his entourage who'll be visiting next week."
 >you hold your hand out, offering her the chance to speak.
 "Come up with anything?"
 >"I..."
 >she looks you over, but this time it's not like a wolf sizing up a deer
 >more like an artist taking in her subject
 >there's a flash of green flame, and suddenly you're looking into a mirror
 >well, a funhouse mirror
 >she's managed to miss some of the finer details on your armor
 >and you're sure you don't look THAT fat
 >well... you have been sharing more cupcakes with Pinkie lately...
 >but still, there are subtle differences that tip you off quickly
 >"I can be your double. Take on the tasks you are disinclined to tackle yourself."
 >you ponder that a moment
 >it would be nice to spend more time on your own tasks
 >patrols and enforcement take up a lot of your day
 >but you shake the thought from your head
 >the guard comes back with the food you requested, and you roll the barrel of apples up to where Chrysalis-as-you is hanging
 >you pop the top and grab a single fruit, taking a bite from it as you wave a hand across your throat
 >she reverts to her black, overstuffed form
 >you take a second bite before stuffing the rest in the changeling's mouth
 >she whines like a scolded dog as it touches her tongue
 "Nice thought, but my job's not bad enough that I'd delegate it to you or anyone else. Eat it and then try again."
 >she just lets out a hiccup as tears form at the corner of her mouth
 >you sigh, exasperated
 "What, again? Do it or I'll have the guards feed you the whole barrel."
 >she sniffles but bites down, chewing another chunk
 >you'd think she was trying to swallow sandpaper, the way she struggled with it
 >but after five agonizing minutes, she gets it all down
 >her gut gives an ominous rumble as she pants, struggling to come up with another use for herself
 >"I...I can..."
 >she bathes in green fire again
 >Celestia, or at least a chubbier approximation, is in chains before you
 >"...pleasure you..."
 >she practically whispers
 >hmm...
 >now that's a bit more like it
 >you pick up another apple, but step close enough to get a good look at the pudgy copycat
 >there were still some minor details off
 >your fingers brush her neck; no tight black collar around it
 >they pull through the waving corona of her mane; she's still wearing her crown
 >you circle behind her and trace your palms down her sides
 >not as thin as you know her to be
 >you squeeze her waist and she lets out another little "urp" of discomfort
 >but as your hands sink into her soft, pliant assflesh, it's indistinguishable from the broken mare upstairs
 >you spread it apart, admiring the... craftsmanship, we'll say, of that powdery white ponut
 >as you come back around to her front, she follows you with her eyes, now looking more earnest than afraid
 >pressing one hand on her inner thigh, you lean in close, inspecting her shimmering eyes, flush cheeks, flattened back ears, pouting lips...
 >she makes her move suddenly, lips mashed to yours
 >you feel her straining into the kiss like she'd been without affection for months
 >you don't break it immediately
 >it's definitely not how Celestia does it
 >far more tongue (it's reaching for your tonsils)
 >but it's certainly not unpleasant
 >it's only when you feel that familiar slipping sensation around your temples that you stop
 >you open your eyes and meet Chrysalis' green orbs with a look that completely encapsulates the actual words:
 >'...really? Again?'
 >backing off, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand
 >"I... sorry? I didn't mean to--"
 >you backhand her in mid sentence
 >holy shit, was there something in her saliva?
 >the tips of your lips and top of your tongue feel cool, almost numb, like too much mint
 >under different circumstances, admittedly, you'd like that
 >not when she's trying to cast some sort of spell on you though
 "Okay, we're done here. Guards, fetch the whip. Obviously we--"
 >"No! No, please! I can do more, I just... I lost control for one second! I NEED some love, and you won't give me ANY!"
 "So the smartest course of action is to directly disobey me?! What the hell even is that spell?"
 >she's sobbing now, but you don't doubt she can cry on demand if the need suits her
 "Answer me you fucking roach!"
 >she hiccups, tears spilling onto the dungeon floor
 >the guard comes trotting up, a coiled whip in his mouth
 >you snatch it from him and begin to unwind it, circling to her back
 >"Please, I'm sorry! Really I am! I'll never try to touch your mind again!"
 >...
 >that stops you in your tracks
 "Touch my mind. You have a spell that lets you manipulate peoples' minds?"
 >"Yes! How do you think my people force others to give us their love?!"
 >you wind up and snap the whip, the blow landing across her shoulders
 >she lets out a hiss of pain, fresh tears rolling down her face
 "And you thought you could use it on me?!"
 >you snap it again, and a thin line of green runs down her back
 >again, and the line on her shoulders was an X
 >"T-tell me... you w-w-wouldn't... do the ssssame."
 >she doesn't bother trying to turn and look at you
 >you bring the stinging weapon down again, this one leaving a lash near her rump
 >you hate that she's not wrong
 >so you channel that hate into another swing
 >she howls this time, but apparently she's resigned to her fate
 "...Why didn't you lead with 'I can make people my puppets', if you're so fucking good at it?"
 >you puff a little; you really need to stick to that exercise regiment
 >a few good swings shouldn't take this much energy
 >"Because it w-worked... ssso well on y-you..."
 >you ought to give her another lash just for having the gall to be sarcastic
 >but the implications of having a puppet master in your employ are starting to catch up to you
 >you glare at the back of her head, then coil the whip up around your arm
 >making your way to the door, you beckon the prisoner in
 >the guards shove the terrified stallion through the door and slam it behind him
 >what a bunch of cowards
 >at the sight of the thing chained to the floor and ceiling, the stallion starts trying to back away
 >he doesn't know what she is, but he knows danger when he sees it
 >you drag him back to a place in front of the love-tick
 "This is your last chance."
 >both of your captives look terrified
 >you look over at the grey pone
 >he has a pickaxe cutie mark
 >but stranger things have happened, so you lean in and ask anyway
 "Do you know how to juggle?"
 >he shrinks back, looking terrified, before resigning himself to his punishment as he shakes his head
 "Good."
 >his eyes snap open in surprise as you turn away from him
 >you pull three apples out of the barrel and roll them over to him
 >he almost has his mouth around one before you speak
 "Touch those before you leave the room, and I'll make YOU eat the whole barrel."
 >that threat's been working really well today, you think
 >pointing at him with your thumb, you stare up at her
 "Show me a juggling act worthy of the Wrangling Brothers."
 >there is no sign of negotiation anywhere in your voice
 >there is no hint of doubt as to what the alternative is
 >she gulps and screws up her concentration, a wisp of green light flowing from her horn to his ears
 >sweat pours down her face as she forces him to his feet
 >you can see him struggling to move his hooves anywhere else
 >but slowly, mechanically, he gathers the red fruit up
 >he tosses one into the air, then another, catches the first
 >it's like watching a robot play catch with itself
 >the stallion almost manages to pull away at one point
 >but a flash of green and he's back to doing her will
 >you throw a fourth apple at him without warning and she incorporates it into his act
 >the same with a fifth
 >she even gets him to take a few bites as they arc through the air
 >eventually he's tossing nothing but cores, still in perfect rhythm
 >now that, you muse, is something worth reporting about
 >you clap slowly, looking over your shoulder at the straining queen
 "Enough."
 >the grey stallion drops to the floor in mid-toss like a lifeless marionette
 >the apple cores scatter every which way, one landing in his purple mane
 >Chrysalis looks to be on the verge of fainting
 >slapped around, stuffed full, whipped... she's had a rough few hours
 >you'd almost feel bad, if it wasn't entirely her fault those things had happened
 "How many can you control at the same time with this?"
 >"...I have not tried but three. Given time, I--"
 >you hold up a hand, and she goes silent
 >and here you thought she'd never learn
 "Can you hear what they hear? See what they see?"
 >"So long as I keep them near."
 >you nod, turning a few ideas over in your head
 >a spy that can manipulate other spies
 >you smile at the thought of goading a mare like Bonded Courage into trying to face you using her friends as puppets
 "...and your whelplings from the caves?"
 >she hesitates, knowing you won't like the answer
 >"They are loyal to me with their very lives, but they do not share my powers of control. Only illusion."
 >disappointing, but all information is good information
 >you sigh, and she stammers a bit
 >"B-but! They can be made to look like anypony! Surely you could find a use for them!"
 >even after today, she still gives a shit about her subjects?
 >you might have to bring Celestia down to meet this pone
 >show her how real rulers behave
 >you settle for a nonchalant shrug
 "We'll see. Oh, can you cast your spells while changed?"
 >she nods eagerly, transforming into a pink alicorn you don't recognize, her matted purple hair fluttering as the same ill-looking green magic she'd used before flowed from it
 >you smirk and she transforms back, not needing your order to do so
 >you pace a few more minutes, thinking about other uses for her
 >a groan from near the door stirs you from your pondering
 >the grey earth pone is awake again
 >you look over at Chrysalis
 >her mouth is actually watering as she watches him climb to his hooves
 "The fuck did you do?"
 >you look down at the dazed pone, who just shakes his head as you frown at him
 >he meets your gaze cautiously, then looks around, stammering as he realizes he's in trouble
 >"I... I don't... huh?"
 >you reach down and pick up the core in his mane by the stem, dangling it in front of him for him to see
 "Didn't I tell you not to touch these?"
 >he can't even seem to get sounds out anymore, just moving his mouth incoherently
 >you shake your head, acting disappointed that he can't follow such a simple instruction
 >maybe when you first arrived here, you'd have felt bad about this sort of deception
 >but seeing as how he was on the chopping block either way, you can't be bothered to show him too much sympathy
 >picking up the lead to his neck clasp, you pull him over to where Chrysalis stands, tying the leash to the spreader bar
 >to his credit, he at least waits until you're done tying to try pulling away
 >"Wait... please, I. I don't... I didn't want to..."
 >you roll your eyes and point at the changeling
 >she's almost too enraptured with him to notice you talking
 "Told you, that was your last chance. She listened, so maybe you should stay here and learn from her."
 >you look up at her
 >you still don't quite get how the whole "love eating" thing works
 >but judging from the look on her face, he'll do
 >you take the precaution of shortening the chains on his hooves
 >no sense letting her mind-control him into a position where he could let her out
 >you make your way towards the door, considering how best to word your memo to the Boss Mare
 >as you shut the door, you catch a bit of their conversation.
 >"Hello, little one. What is your name?"
 >Ah... uh... Diggin' Bones...?"
 >"A strong name for a handsome stallion... tell me, Diggin... who do you love?"
 >you shut the door behind you
 >yeah
 >you may send a guard in with a mop before you meet with her again tomorrow
 >one less noose to tie
 
  >"Your notes on the captive are enlightening. Forgo the morning patrol for this day. Explore the viability of a changeling army for use in the conquest of neighboring countries, or suppression of the endemic revolts. Do not fail me. ~NMM"
 >you read over the note again
 >you mouth the words "enlightening" and "forgo the morning patrol" silently
 >it's practically a glowing love letter from a pony like Her Highness; she didn't even write any death threats
 >you decide to skip the helmet this time, handing it to a passing guard with orders to have it delivered to your room
 >down the stairs, through the doors, past the guards
 >halting at the entrance, you look behind you at the empty cells
 "...I believe I told you to have that dissident caged here before I returned,"
 >you arched an eyebrow at the guard
 >he salutes smartly, but casts a glance to his side where his partner should be standing
 >"Sir, we have encountered a... difficulty, sir. Private Aegis should be back shortly with the tools, sir."
 >tools?
 >you shake your head and push past him
 >...well... that would explain it
 >the hapless earth pone you had left with the queen stares up at you
 >his expression is like you'd just beaten his wife to death with his parents' remains
 >horrified and heartbroken
 >he lets out a muffled moan and squirms against his bonds
 >but a thick, translucent green ichor holds him fast
 >his hooves are cemented in place under thick layers of the stuff, and his muzzle is stuck to the floor as well
 >a dab smeared across his back had managed to catch his tail
 >the poor bastard, to add insult to injury, is posed in what could only be described in "face-down, ass-up" position
 >you came down here expecting to find a shell-shocked pony
 >you wouldn't have been entirely surprised by chunks and pieces of a shell-shocked pony
 >but this
 >holy shit, whatever this is
 >Chrysalis is watching you with a smug smile on her face, her hair even more tousled than before
 >she hasn't moved from where you left her
 "So. I take it your meal was satisfactory?"
 >for the barest moment you see her start to answer honestly
 >she gives the poor pone before her a derisive look, even gets the first syllable out
 >"It..."
 >she flinches as she realizes the mistake she's about to make
 >and just like that her face is a mask of appreciation
 >"...was delectable. What love he harbored for his family and wife was tender and sweet. I would that he had more of it to give."
 >a diplomatic answer if you've ever heard one
 >which of course leads to the obvious question:
 "Liked it so much you decided to glue him to my floor, hm?"
 >she squirms for a second at your tone
 >mental acrobatics are always fun first thing in the morning
 >"Ah... how could I do such a thing? He... did it to himself! Another demonstration of my prowess."
 >well...
 >there certainly was no way she could have done this locked up as she was
 >so either she coerced him to cement himself here
 >or she forced him to
 >either way speaks volumes about the extent of her power over him
 >still, not the answer she knows you're looking for
 "You know what I mean. Why is there a pony stuck to my floor?"
 >you tug at an overhead chain, and the bond around her neck tightens
 >not enough to stop her breathing, but enough to make it difficult
 >"Because..."
 >she's scanning the room, everywhere but your eyes, hoping for an answer
 >"because..."
 >you tighten it a bit more, and she tries to move her hooves to her neck on instinct
 >the chains just rattle in response
 >"...I'm sorry..."
 >she chokes, trying not to use too much breath as she says it
 "For?"
 >her eyes start to water again
 >at least you can trust her tears more when they come from pain than regret
 >"...making a mess..."
 >you give her a second to go on
 >not picking up the hint, this one
 "And?"
 >"...and... forgetting my place?..."
 >ooh, good answer
 >not what you were going for, but good answer
 "Aaaaand?"
 >"and..."
 >her eyes widen as they flit around the room more rapidly
 >"and..."
 >a bit more pressure, and her throat's completely closed
 >she mouths words, but without breath she can't get them out
 >you let her struggle for a few seconds more
 "Sorry, was that last bit 'sorry for trying to worm my way out of a punishment for my own actions'?"
 >she nods desperately, finally meeting your gaze
 >you hold out a bit longer, tapping your finger to your chin in thought
 "Well! Good to know you're taking responsibility. That's all I needed to hear."
 >and you let the chain go
 >the black bug-like queen coughs and gags, sucking down stale dungeon air
 >the guards come in while she's still gasping, bearing chisels and hammers
 >wordlessly they set to work pulling the goo-covered stallion from his prison
 >you pay them no mind
 "So. Let's not beat around the bush, hm? You've proven to have some worth to the Empire; enough to keep you around, if circumstances are right."
 >she nods, obviously disgruntled at being thought of as a tool
 >at least she knows better than to voice that displeasure
 >the guards finally free the stallion's back legs and he flops to the ground with a muffled 'oomph'
 "Let's discuss some circumstances."
 >she still huffs a bit when she breathes, but she's in control of herself enough to nod cautiously
 "How do you bend your brood to your will?"
 >she looks at you nonplussed
 >you've gotten to know her hesitant look when she's forced to say something she finds unpleasant
 >this isn't that
 >nor is it confusion as to how to interpret your question
 >this is something new
 >"How... what? I don't. They just do as I tell them."
 >you give her the look that precedes a strangling session
 >all it earns you is another look of bewilderment
 "Bullshit. Everyone has a motivation. I refuse to believe your insects are 'loyal to you with their very lives' because they're bored."
 >it's like she's never even thought about this before
 >she shrugs, an impressive feat all on its own in her chains
 >you decide to try a different tack
 "You've never had a rebellion or an uprising? No changelings going rogue? Horseshit."
 >she just shakes her head, still trying to grasp the concept
 >you can't tell if she's just that protective of her hive, or whether she's genuinely confused
 >well, fear for her life seems to have worked pretty well so far...
 >you draw your dagger and cross the room
 >behind you you hear the changeling queen's previous meal break his front hooves free
 >but all of your attention is focused on applying just the right amount of pressure to the blade at Chrysalis' neck
 "So if I were to deem you worthless and end this discussion right now..."
 >the tone of your voice is actually more curious than threatening
 >she looks into your eyes, a hint of fear behind them but no more comprehension
 >"...The hive would die. I've probably no females left, so with no successor, the contract is null. They would just stop."
 >you furrow your brow in confusion
 >contract? Successor? "stop"?
 >you back the blade off from her neck
 >you're not certain about all of that, but from the sound of it, you can't just wrest control of them from her
 >any more than someone could wrest control of your little ponies upstairs from you
 >the only way they'd manage that is if they controlled you
 >so...
 >you sheath the dagger again and sigh
 "I suppose I can understand that. Their loyalties lie unwaveringly with you."
 >the guards finally have Diggin's mouth free
 >not that he says a word once he's up
 >he just waddles behind the guards out of the room
 "So then where do your loyalties lie?"
 >there is only one right answer to this question
 >but forcing her to mean it when she says it will be a trick
 >you send the guards out with instructions to fetch the apothecary
 >it would be nice to manage this without using her tinctures
 >but if you must, you'd rather have her on hand and prepared
 >"My loyalties lie..."
 >you hear the Royal Voice behind you
 >"...with whoever holds the key to my bonds."
 >even knowing it's coming, the sight of Nightmare Moon bound and chained gives you a second's pause
 >she bares her fangs in her usual sadistic grin
 >"How about you, my pet? Are we so dissimilar?"
 >her leathery wings flit and adjust themselves
 >"Do you not serve out of obligation? What loyalty do you really owe?"
 >you approach the Princess of the Night silently
 >her impression is really spot on this time
 >you stare down her lithe form, the midnight black of her coat, the gentle curve of her withers
 >it's really quite... accurate, you try to remind yourself
 >you'll play along for a bit
 "...I serve..."
 >you brush a hand to her face; she flinches slightly
 >the last few times she's felt your touch to her cheek, it hasn't been so pleasant
 >this time, though, you simply stroke her cheek and then reach upwards
 >you trace a finger along the sharp points of the crown
 "...the one who is best for Equestria."
 >the starry cloud of her tail wraps around your waist, pulling you closer
 >"How noble..."
 >she grins, as your hand moves to her chest
 >you can feel her breathing, shallow and fast
 >"And what is best for Equestria?"
 >both of your hands are on her thighs now
 >even if she wanted to, there's no way to deny you what you're planning to do
 >"Agony?"
 >she pulls you closer still, your eyes locked together
 >"Strife and struggle?"
 >your hand reaches between her legs, the tip of your fingers soft on her lips
 >"...Punishment?"
 >you brush her lips with your own and plunge your middle finger home
 >her gasp isn't due to shock this time
 >your finger is caught in a velvet vice, struggling to pull it in even as you withdraw it
 >you repeat the motion, pressing in further this time, the withdrawal slower than before
 >she huffs as you pump her with your fingers, palm massaging her clit
 >"Admit it. what's best for Equestria... it's you."
 >even beneath her dark coat you can see a blush forming
 >you never take your eyes from hers as you fingerblast your "Queen"
 >at the second finger she starts to squeak with each intrusion
 >her hips thrust toward your hand, and each time you pause she lets out a plaintive little whine
 >it's always cut short with another squeak as you start in again
 >at one point you pull completely out and her whole body strains forward, desperate to follow the source of its pleasure
 >you bring the sopping fingers to her mouth and she suckles at them greedily, tongue wrapping expertly around them
 >you return them to their rightful place, earning you a moan of pleasure
 >you can hear her breath hitching as the pace of her thrusts picks up
 >which is your cue to stop, pressing a finger against each lip to spread her as you pull away
 "Discipline."
 >her eyes roll back down, denied the crash she was expecting, confused by your voice in her ear
 "What's best for Equestria is discipline. Not just a punishment, but a lesson."
 >you press one finger just above her clit, barely touching it
 >no amount of bucking brings her any closer to release
 "You're trying to coax my love for her out of me."
 >her face, still flush with need, takes a darker look as you call her on her plan
 >and then her eyes roll back into her head as you grind you palm against her, a spurt of cum jetting onto your hand
 "This lesson is: if you want my love, like all the others, you will earn it. Show me that Chrysalis the Changeling Queen is loyal to me. Not Celestia. Not Nightmare. Not my pets. You."
 >you conjure up every bit of self-loathing you can and spit at her, before loosening your belt
 >she's caught somewhere between shock and confusion as you drop trou
 >you plan to make the word "hatefuck" an understatement
 >...just as soon as you deal with the potion maker who was just ushered in
 >well
 >this is a little unfortunate
 >haven't these guards ever heard of discretion?
 >"Greetings, lustful alien beast. I was told you had need of my expertise?"
 
 --COUGH COUGH THIS IS DUMB AND DOESN'T FIT THE TONE OF THE STORY AT ALL COUGH COUGH--
 >the apothecary is a rather full-rumped zebra, short but squat
 >you look over your shoulder at her
 >you can see her mane, pointed straight up, behind a crudely painted wooden mask
 >she just stares expectantly, seemingly taking no notice of your bare ass or the fact that you're mid-rut with the ruler of the land suspended in chains
 >either she took lessons from Octavia in the ways of stoicism
 >or she's just this used to the madness that is Canterlot Castle
 >you turn around with a cough and beckon her over
 "Zecora. Thank you for coming, I have need of your knowledge. Do you have any potions that deal with matters of... love?"
 >she nods, seeming to understand
 >with a flourish she pulls out a huge array of bottles and tubes, bowls and plates from her saddle pack, laying them all at your feet
 >"This herb can be taken with your meal; it turns your stallionhood to steel. If instead duration you lack, on this hydra heart you snack."
 >this sounds like a sales pitch, and you wave your hands to try to stop her
 >you really did mean love, not sex aids
 >but apparently she's so practiced (or so enthralled with the subject) that she doesn't even notice
 >"this powder spurs a powerful need for mares to sup upon your seed. If teats of bounty you desire, use milkweed root and phoenix fire."
 >this seems like it's going to go on a bit
 >"To conjure rut is this salve's goal, works on stallion, mare or foal (but in four hours, if still you yearn, perhaps to me you should return)"
 >...
 >it's like a lewd Dr. Seuss
 >"sensitivity, texture, size; capacity or completion's prize. Filly-foolers, colt-on-colt, none can argue with results. Whether rider or the steed, I'm sure I can fulfill your need."
 >she stops and takes off her mask, scratching her chin with a hoof
 >"Or if instead you need a mate, I know of mares for a decent rate. Or stallions (I am judgement-free)! Er... why was it that you summoned me?"
 >she gives you an embarrassed grin
 >you shake your head, exasperated
 --THUS ENDS THE ZEBRA RIDICULOUSNESS--
 
 "That's... huh.  While not what I asked, that is interesting."
 >you'll keep the one that induces lactation in mind for if Celestia starts feeling motherly again
 >but back to your original point
 "I asked if you had any potions that dealt with love.  Not lust."
 >she stares for a moment at the ceiling, then opens up a small pocket on one side of her bags
 >she passes you three vials of liquid
 >two glass and shaped like a heart, one filled with red liquid, the other with gold
 >the last made of pewter and ringed at the neck with a black vine covered in thorns
 >she points to the first, the amber liquid
 >"The first is called Felicity.  It makes you a lover of all you see.  Even in this eternal night, with Felicity, your day is bright."
 >she nods at the next, the rose-colored glass
 >"Cadenza's Tincture is on the right.  It fosters love upon first sight.  Use utmost caution; few can bend, that potion's outcomes to their end."
 >she doesn't bother pointing to or even looking at the last of the three
 >the light airiness of her voice is replaced with gravitas
 >"Those two I charge for; this, I do not.  I'd rather it should be forgot.  Heartbreak and sadness in equal parts, it freezes passion, hardens hearts.  Its cruel effects you cannot rewind.  Beware the sorrow of Potion Nine."
 >you remark on how small they are
 >watered down, they may last you the week
 >you'll probably need to request more when she has the opportunity
 >she shakes her head, chuckling at you in her strange accent
 >"I see that you are quite astute.  But all these potions you must dilute.  In water they all work quite well, though alcohol can strengthen their spell."
 >she begins to pack up her collection of containers
 >you cough pointedly and reach down for the hydra's heart
 >she offers you a coy smile in return, but doesn't stop you
 "These will do nicely, Zecora.  You have both the Empire's thanks and mine."
 >you sign a release for the funds and hand it to her before she turns for the door
 >"Though I find the process crude..."
 >she remarks just before she shuts the door on you
 >"Congratulations on that brood."
 >...well THAT was cryptic
 >no no, you'll stand for a bit of oddity, but anyone would notice that tone of voice
 >it's the 'I'm-telling-you-so-so-later-I-can-say-I-told-you-so' voice
 >you look over at Chrysalis Moon
 >she's glowering at the door the zebra just closed
 >that pretty much seals it
 "For the sake of your gag reflex, you'd best hope this isn't a problem you caused."
 >you jog to catch up with the mare
 >she's halfway down the cell block when you manage to stop her
 >turning around with the mask down again, she regards you passively
 >"That hydra's heart should last you days; if you used it all, I would be amazed."
 >ha-ha-fuckin'-ha
 "What did you mean about my brood? What brood?"
 >she turns her head so that the mask points from you to the only occupied cell
 >Diggin Bones is sitting there, looking like he'd welcome death as a change of pace
 >now that he's not doubled over, you can see that his stomach is bulging with lumps
 >unless he's taken to eating stones instead of prison rations, that wasn't his doing
 >he rubs both hooves at what gut he can reach and moans
 >the guards just roll their eyes and smack a weapon against the bars
 >"Quiet down, dissident."
 >Zecora lets out her odd melodious chuckle
 >"He must have enjoyed getting filled, if of course he had free will."
 >she looks back up at you
 >the mask rotates as she tilts her head
 >"Are you surprised to learn his plight? T'was you who gave it to him, right?"
 >you look back at him and he lets out a resigned sniffle
 "No. Well, I mean, yeah. But I thought she'd just... feed... not... huh."
 >you don't know how changelings breed
 >killing him might actually be a minor mercy at this point
 "Are they going to go all Alien on him?"
 >you realize that's a bit outside of her frame of reference
 >let's rephrase
 "Do they... eat him? And how did you know she was a changeling?"
 >"Changeling chitin is a must, for crafting my Illusion Dust."
 >she seems to be appraising Diggin's condition
 >"An uncomfortable birth is all that entails, so long as the clutch is only males,"
 >she explains
 >"but a future Queen must get her start, by feasting on another's heart."
 >future queen?
 >that sounds like leverage
 >so either you get a hostage and a condemned pone dies a painful death
 >or you get a litter of future soldiers and have to find him a spot in the guillotine line
 >...
 >you can't bring yourself to actively hope that a newborn child chews through a grown pony's chest
 >but you can totally reflect on how convenient it would be
 "Zecora, I'd like a few more moments of your time."
 >she whickers and shakes her head
 >"Alas, your Queen has called me too, demanding many a sundry brew. Would this evening be ideal, perhaps over a hearty meal?"
 >eh, you work fast, but you doubt you'll need to know every detail about these bug-ponies before sunset
 >you nod, scratching your head
 >"Very well, it is a date. Come at 7, do not be late."
 >she strides for the stairwell
 >no matter the circumstances, Boss Mare doesn't like tardiness
 >she has enough time to flick her tail up as she looks back at you though
 >wait
 >did you just get hit on?
 >fuck, today is weird
 >no, actually, it's probably just that particular zebra is weird
 >anyway, before that little interruption
 >you recall you were in the middle of administering some -iscipline
 >on your way back in, you point at the purple-maned pone struggling to massage his stuffed stomach
 "Fetch me if something crawls out of him chewing on his heart,"
 >the guard nods and stands at attention
 >you get most of the way through the door before leaning back out and looking at the other guard
 "Oh, and by the Moon and Stars, knock next time. Have some courtesy."
 >you slam the door behind you, giving the black mare in chains a beatific smile
 >she's shifted back, but her thighs are still slicked from your ministrations
 >that won't do
 "When did I tell you to change back?  I don't remember that."
 >she gulps and wordlessly shifts back, your ruler physically imposing as ever even in those heavy chains
 >after a moment's hesitation, she tests the waters
 >"Did she... was it... what did she say?"
 >if Nightmare Moon ever sounded that meek, you'd kill her without hesitation
 >you're pretty sure she's incapable of that sort of softness and timidity
 "Don't worry about that.  None of your concern."
 >you take the hydra's heart from the table, looking it over
 >it's dried and rubbery, and smells a bit like swamp
 >but if you can't trust a masked foreigner peddling drugs, who can you trust?
 >you rip a chunk of flesh off and pop it in your mouth
 >it's tough and surprisingly spicey, so you talk while you chew
 "Now.  There are two ways out of this for you.  Learn or fail."
 >you put the rest of the heart down and reach overhead,  swinging the chains through hooks and holders
 "Failing is easy.  Just say the word and I'll stop.  Then I'll squish you under my boot like any other bug."
 >you manage to get two lengths wrapped around each other and you curse under your breath
 >the other dungeon is nicer, they have this whole setup on levers
 "I'd rather not do that.  I still hold that you could be an asset.  I'd much rather you learned."
 >you manage to get the ties untangled and set back to work letting slack into the lines
 "Do you remember what you're supposed to learn?"
 >she recites it, almost word for word
 >a little haltingly, but she manages
 >"If I want love, like all the others, I have to earn it.  I have to be loyal to you.  Not anyone else.  Me."
 >you let the chains go, and the tension holding her neck and forehooves up disappears
 >she crashes to the ground, front legs weak from six days' worth of neglect
 >your belt buckle clinks to the ground in front of her
 >when she looks back up at you, she has to stare past your cock to meet your gaze
 "Good.  Let's begin."
 >The Princess of the Night is licking your balls
 >sure, it's just a shallow copy of her
 >but as she kisses and huffs her warm breath on them, suckling on one, occasionally running her tongue along the underside of your shaft
 >you couldn't give a damn about whether it's the "real" Nightmare Moon or not
 >she kisses around the base, leaving a ring of wet marks as she slobbers on your knob
 >you run a hand through her murky hair and grab it tight
 >you give it a tug and guide her lips to the head
 >and as she starts to slurp on you
 >you focus all of your concentration on remembering everything she's responsible for
 >the personal slights, the degrading names, the menial tasks
 >you blame her for the crop crisis and the frequent uprisings
 >as her tongue swirls around your member, you rage at her disinterest in anything other than pain
 >while her lips are gliding over your shaft, you're fuming about the rampant corruption among the guards
 >Chrysalis-as-NMM gags a little, and you don't know whether it's because you're facefucking her or because your disgust is that bitter
 >you pull out of her mouth, a thin rope of saliva connecting the two of you
 >she looks up and you open-palm slap her
 >it's her fault you're like this
 >you were never like this before you came here
 >...were you?
 "Celestia."
 >you walk around behind her, giving her a sharp slap on the ass in passing
 "I said Celestia!"
 >there's a flash of green fire, and the black creature is replaced by her sister
 >not just the cooing white mare upstairs, either
 >this is Celestia when she was a Princess
 >you take your place behind her, yanking her tail up roughly
 >there is no warning, no need to go slow
 >you drive home in one thrust, eliciting a startled shriek from the solar ruler
 >as you withdraw, there's little resistance
 >the mare looks back to you, doe-eyed
 >fuck her
 >fuck her and her weakness, her carelessness, her complacency
 >you ram her again and she winces
 >over and over
 >every time she flinches, you think to yourself, "good"
 >every hiss of pain or squeak as you slap and grope her soft, plump behind is completely justified
 >despite herself, you can feel a wetness as you thrust, a familiar milking sensation
 >a yank on her tail earns you a harder squeeze
 >as does another slap on the other cheek
 >you dig your nails in as you think about how for a thousand years, she'd been idle, doting on her precious subjects until they became weak and helpless
 >a loud groan and a spray of mare-cum signals her crossing the line ahead of you, the needy pull of her pussy soon coaxing a generous helping of your seed into her
 >Chrysalis huffs, her borrowed white wings slowly folding back in from full spread
 >"M... may I--"
 "No."
 >you wander back around to the table, measuring out a few drops of the red potion which you dump into a liberal goblet of wine
 "Octavia."
 >you hold the pewter container up, wondering what it would do to the shackled pone
 >"Wh-who-"
 "The maid."
 >another flash of green light, and your faithful servant is chained up, a line of tears down each cheek to drop onto her uniform
 >ignoring the tears though, her stoic expression is spot on
 >damn but that hydra heart works fast
 >any other day and you'd need to pause and recover
 >you stomp back and shove her onto her ass
 >bending over her, you move yourself into position, then pin her hooves under your hands
 >you lean in, and...
 >and you...
 "Fuck...fuck you. Twilight."
 >the flames don't even tickle as a purple unicorn stares up at you, wide-eyed and terrified
 >you thrust into her, telling yourself that the real Twilight wouldn't have that pleasure undercutting her suffering
 >you focus on how pathetic she is
 >how for all her knowledge she couldn't find one of the million answers that would've stopped her own enslavement
 "Pinkie Pie!"
 >you don't even break pace anymore
 >sociopathic simpleton, too focused on frivolity to recognize the world falling apart around her
 "Applejack!"
 >stubborn, pig-headed, obstinate bitch
 >too self-absorbed to even learn to bow when it became obvious you were in charge
 >you feel her release against you, and you groan as you come dangerously close to peaking again
 >you lean back, releasing her front legs
 >and as soon as the bug pretending to be your slave rises to one elbow, you grab her and roll her over
 >you run your prick between those two plumped up cheeks, the mix of pre and her own juices coating her puckered ponut
 "Rarity."
 >the marshmallow pone lets out an un-ladylike whine as you stuff her backdoor
 >self-absorbed, egotistical, undeserving noveau riche
 >not even worthy to lick your boots
 "Fluttershy."
 >you grab a handful of the pink mane as soon as it materializes, tugging it viciously as you pound her ass
 >she squeaks with every thrust, though the barest of smiles on her face reminds you
 >reminds you that this is not your Fluttershy
 >but god do you hate the way she simpers, the way she appeases, the way she lets you dictate every facet of her life
 >you didn't even need to have her enslaved to do that, she's such a weak-willed coward
 >you feel her whole body shiver, that has to be at least orgasm number five
 "R-rainbow Dash!"
 >you pin the sky-blue pegasus' wings to the ground as you near the home stretch, and she lets out a squeal far more pain than pleasure
 >willfully ignorant, unmotivated, utterly self-important waste of feathers
 >what a top
 >fucking
 >cunt
 >you can't take it anymore
 >a second round of your jizz coats her insides as you let out a primal shout
 >the pounding in your ears seems to ebb and suddenly it's a lot easier to hear her pants, her coughs, her sniffles, her groans and moans
 >you blink a couple times
 >holy shit, that may have been a bit much
 >you put your hand beside "Rainbow Dash"'s hoof and push yourself up to your knees
 >time for the payoff
 >you stagger a little bit as you make your way to the table where you left the goblet
 "On your hooves."
 >you make your way over to the dripping multicolored mare, her legs still separated by the spanner bar
 >she crawls exhausted to all fours, exhausted and scared
 "Did you get so much as a whiff of love?"
 >you growl, staring down at the pegasus who refuses to meet your eyes
 >she just shakes her head
 "And now the all-im-fucking-portant question:"
 >you hold both hands out to her, offering her to answer at her leisure
 "Why?"
 >"Be...because I wasn't me."
 >you scoop the goblet up and carry it back to her, clapping your free hand against the back of the one carrying the wine
 "Excellent. So let's rectify that."
 >you bring her chin up to look at you
 >she's waiting on you to give her the go-ahead
 >that's what you like to refer to as "improvement".
 "Take your own form, Chrysalis."
 >her name has barely left your mouth and she's back to her true self
 >you bring the chalice to her lips and she gulps it down like it's the last water in the Saddle Arabian desert
 >when you tilt it up for her to get the dregs, she actually pushes her nose into it, lapping at every drop she can reach
 >when you're satisfied she's gotten what she can from it, you take it away
 >you can tell it's not sitting quite right with her
 >she wants more
 "Was that not enough?"
 >the right answer to your question is obvious
 >the correct one is irrelevant
 >"It was what you gave me. What more could I ask for?"
 >and that
 >deserves a reward
 >not much of one, don't want to spoil the deposed queen
 >but you brush her hair aside and give her an affectionate peck on the cheek
 "Good answer."
 >you've never seen pupils dilate like that
 >you don't know whether it's the drugs or the beginnings of Stockholm
 >but whatever the cause, it's good news to you
 >so why aren't you elated?
 >you walk down the cell block, past the egg-pregnant stallion, and climb the stairs with the distinct feeling you should be happier
 >oh well... time to see whose skulls need bashing
 
 >your name is Sprawling Odyssey
 >you are a bronze unicorn mare, being led in chains to what you assume is the execution chamber
 >the guards on either side of you stare straight ahead as they lead you down the stairs to the main cell block
 >you try to slow a bit as you round a corner and see a few familiar faces
 >Delirium, charged with seven counts of disturbing the peace, looks between the bars at you
 >she looks... bored?
 >Sparkle Shine looks like he's expecting a thrashing any second, eyes darting around his cage
 >the guards shove you to get moving again
 >Frostweaver turns his head to glare at you from the far corner of his cell
 >you jump when a blue pony lunges against the bars
 >she growls and barks like a hound as you pass
 >and then you're here
 >a wooden door is all that stands in the way of your doom
 >the guard knocks on it, and its swings open easily
 >you're shoved inside, tripping over the chains and landing face-first with a weak "oomph"
 >you look up and around just in time to hear the door slam behind you
 >a few things catch your eye
 >the pools of green liquid, some thin strands dripping from the ceiling
 >on the far table sit a collection of bottles, a few empty, along with a chalice and a bottle of wine
 >and of course you can't ignore the towering creature in black and purple
 >you can't make out his features, but from the way he stands, you'd have to guess he was smirking
 >none of that can compare with the thing in the center of the room though
 >chained by the neck, standing imperiously before you, is...
 >Princess Celestia?
 >her smile is warm and gentle, and for a moment it makes you forget all the atrocities of this forsaken place
 >you move to approach her, unsure how you'll fight the brute to get to her
 >but he doesn't move to stop you
 >he just watches as you trot to bow before Her Radiance
 >sweeping low, your horn almost touching the floor, you look up at her
 "Princess. I... I don't know why they have allowed me to bask in your warmth once more, but hail."
 >she beckons you closer and you obey without hesitation
 >up close her smile seems sadder, more resigned
 >"Sweet mare, now is no time to bow; I am Princess no more. I am here as a final comfort before you meet your fate. That is all."
 >the hopeful little smile you had vanishes
 >she's given up?
 "My... my liege?"
 >she lets out a resigned sigh and nods to the armored creature you passed
 >"The mercy he has shown me is to keep me here, alive, that I might soothe you on your way to your fate."
 >your shock is quickly giving way to anger now
 >how dare that... that THING keep the rightful ruler like this?!
 >your horn mirrors your anger, a glow starting at its tip
 "Well then, I'll show him mercy as well, and make this quick!"
 >"Wha- no!"
 >you turn and fire a bolt of concentrated hate at him
 >it slams into his chest and
 >does absolutely nothing
 >his smirk turns into a frown as he starts to advance on you
 >"Wait, please! Do not harm her, she does not know!"
 >the abomination slows, still glaring at you
 >he looks over to your leader and huffs
 >"Fine. That was her one, though."
 >you can't help but feel a swelling adoration for your ruler alongside the fear and hatred for her captor
 >when you turn back, she's staring at you intently, like you'd just done something very interesting rather than very stupid
 >"Little one, I'm sorry. But I am resigned to my use here. As should you be."
 >you stare into her eyes, not wanting to believe she's defeated like this
 >but before you saw her, you were resigned to your fate
 >you're quickly growing that way again
 >"Let me comfort you. Close your eyes, now, and think of they that you love most. Pick the one for whom your heart calls. I will let you see them and bid them farewell."
 >you never knew she had such a power
 >but you obey without question
 >how could you deny a boon from your Princess?
 
 
 >you are Anon, and you are doing your best to keep a straight face
 >luckily you've had some practice with the last few pones you've had brought down
 >the mind-control magic Chrysalis uses was annoying when she'd try it on you
 >but you're definitely beginning to see the appeal
 >to her credit, even without it she's a masterful actress
 >as she puts her silver tongue to good use, you appraise the scrawny mare she's working her wiles on
 >she's a tiny little thing, long legs and ears, thin little body
 >you catch a flash of her purple eyes as she levels her horn at you
 >this trick works better, you find, when you're here to draw their hate
 >it disappears into nothingness against your chest
 >and just like usual, "Celestia" begs your mercy
 >you can see her licking her lips at the adoration rolling off of her victim
 >but she holds back
 >discipline
 >the only love she's allowed to take is when she's in her true form
 >the last little pone who had their love drained before she completed the... procedure... had gotten a drop of Potion Nine on the tongue and sent back to their cell
 >it was an informative experiment
 >the guards had needed ear plugs for the two days before she was executed, she wailed so loud
 >next time, you told Chrysalis, you would give her a taste instead
 >that was almost three weeks ago, and she's been a perfect little pet since
 >the small-framed little unicorn closes her eyes and sits obediently, waiting for her Princess to ease her mind
 >the captive alicorn princess doesn't hesitate to deliver
 >instead of the gentle golden glow you know Celestia possesses, an ill-looking green forms around her horn
 >it wafts into Odyssey's ears, and with a flash of green fire, a pearl-white stallion takes Celestia's place
 >when she opens them, she can hardly contain her glee
 >her eyes are tinted green, unable to see the little inconsistencies and errors in her disguise
 >the longer it continues, the less she'll care about what "he" looks like
 
 
 >you close your eyes, obediently, and picture your beloved Stoic Sewman, his marble coat, his strong hooves, his soft eyes
 >Celestia's magic washes over you, a powerful force
 >it feels... off, somehow, but as the spell takes hold you reassure yourself
 >it's just the strain of her captivity, a voice reminds you
 >"Darling?"
 >your eyes snap open
 >Celestia is truly a goddess, to be able to grant you this
 >you don't know how
 >you don't CARE how
 >he's here
 >you fairly bowl him over as you rush to him, throwing your hooves around him
 >it's been so long; you had heard he was captured a week after you left to join the resistance
 >but here he is
 "Stoic... Oh Stoic, sweet Celestia thank you, I thought I'd never see you again!"
 >"No distance could keep me from you, sweetness."
 >his eyes are the greenest shade of blue you've ever seen them
 >it must be the tears in your eyes that make them seem that way, yourself tells you
 >he leans in and kisses you, forcefully
 >moreso than you're used to
 >the way you've always wanted him to, a voice says, and you can't help but agree
 >it's the passion of a couple separated by years and miles
 >somewhere in the back of your head, someone points out that this is a strange thing for your executioner to allow
 >but it's buried under a layer of pleasure as his hooves slide lower, pulling you close, so very close
 >you have to break the kiss for air, finally
 >unbidden, a question leaps from your throat
 "Where have you been, loveliness? I'm so glad to see you, but how...?"
 >he looks taken aback
 >you've never seen a more handsome blush, or heard a more endearing stammer
 >"I, er... that is, I've been fighting the good fight, you see. Resisting, being covert..."
 >you nod, not comprehending but willing to accept
 >"But I simply had to see you again,"
 >he leans in for another kiss and you happily oblige
 >who could turn down a handsome buck like him?
 
 
 >this part always weirds you out
 >it's not that you don't appreciate the technique
 >it's more that you can see why ponies fall for it, even without the hypnosis
 >her change is so slow, so gradual, that they don't even notice
 >or maybe they do notice, but they don't care
 >they convince themselves that their special mares and stallions have always been so tall
 >always had a horn, or wings
 >they've always been this creature underneath the thin shell of their bodies
 >sometimes they'll get a look on their face that you can take a bit of pleasure in
 >a brief spark of confusion, of recognition
 >"This isn't right," they'll say, or "Have you always...?"
 >you watch as Boring or Emotionless or whatever grows taller, a gnarled horn sprouting from "his" head
 >his legs grow pitted, deepening into holes that riddle his hooves
 >a swollen piece of anatomy grows between her legs as the Verdant Hive's queen reclaims her true form
 >and you smirk as Odyssey frowns up at the thing casting a shadow over her
 >"Darling... when did you get... so tall?"
 >her eyes shut, tightly, but another tendril of green wraps its way around her head from the creature's horn
 >"Sssssh, now, love. I've changed a bit, but so have you,"
 >the voice is always the last thing to go, but the stallion's voice slowly fades to leave only your pet's
 >"You're so empty now, dear,"
 >it causes a blush to rise over the slim unicorn's features when she whispers
 >"what say we fix that?"
 >you step forward, finally assured that nothing can pull your captor from her spell
 >she blushes furiously, but nods, her eyes glued to the black segment of body jutting from underneath her beloved
 
 
 >in the back of your head, a tiny voice is muttering that there's something wrong with this whole picture
 >but you can ignore it
 >you're just so elated to see your lover again
 >you couldn't care that the years have made him taller
 >you did love the gentle white of his coat, but this shiny black look is so fetching
 >his wings, oh, you'll have to mend his suit
 >but with his new horn, goodness, the magic you two could make together
 >it seems a little magic-making is on his mind, too
 >"You're so empty now, dear... what say we fix that?"
 >you can scarcely do more than nod, and blush
 >well
 >maybe you can do a little more than that
 >as he guides you under him, you feel like a young filly again, newly in love, exploring your bodies for the first time
 >and he responds in kind; you can feel strong hands against your legs, squeezing, stroking, rubbing
 >you feel a cooling sensation as his lips touch your flank
 "Mmm~, darling, of all your changes, I think this is the one I love most,"
 >you coo, lips brushing against the strange new organ
 >it doesn't take much coaxing to bring the ovipositor to bear, a copious dribble of green pre leaking from it as your tongue rims its flared opening
 >hehe, it's making your tongue kind of numb
 >above you, your lover lets out a groan of approval; he must have been pretty pent up
 >you look behind him and frown at the sight of your sweetness spreading your flank wide
 >he's showing off your intimates to your captor?
 >it niggles in the back of your head, but you trust him with your life
 >shouldn't you also trust him with your body?
 >you give another slurp and another giggle as you feel the insides of your cheeks growing numb too
 >enough
 >you've waited seven years, you'll have him now
 >you open as wide as you can, your lips wrapping around the opening, and lean forward
 >the monster behind you gives a chuckle as you coat your mate's egg-layer with your saliva
 >you're rewarded with a gout of liquid, which you happily gulp down
 >the cooling slime drips down your throat and you welcome it
 >it's so... strange... but so good
 >you feel a finger trace along your slit, and you hesitate a moment
 >it really doesn't seem quite right, being shared like this
 >but no, your voice insists to you, Stoic would never do anything to betray your trust
 >you feel your tail lift as you spread your legs
 >back to the task at hand
 >he's really backed up, it feels like, so you try to back off a bit to talk
 >there's a strange tickle in your throat
 >you didn't even feel it slide down there
 >at your voice's request, you reach up, hooves kneading and massaging his over-full egg sac
 >slowly, almost painfully, you watch as a bulge begins to form near the start of his stallionhood
 >it feels like the wrong word to describe it
 >but you're too focused on the bulb making its way to your mouth for such thoughts
 >it rests on your lips
 "Mmmmaaaagh?"
 >your mate bucks his hips and the object pops past, into your mouth
 >you try desperately to swallow, tears starting to form as you let out little gagging sounds
 >once, twice, and...
 >it squeezes down your throat
 >you can sense the bulge as it travels
 >and then, you can almost hear it as well as you feel it
 >plop
 >it's in!
 "Agghn~,"
 >you coo, and your love leans down to meet your gaze
 >he smirks and turns to your warden, saying something you can't quite catch
 >ooh, here comes another one...!
 
 
 >yes
 >this is what you were born for
 >this is what you've always been meant for
 >your hive is growing with each little orb that stupid cunt between your legs swallows
 "She will give you no trouble now,"
 >you inform the human
 >it takes you a moment to notice your transgression
 >...ah, Master."
 >you let out a carnal moan as you feel another future hatchling plop from your bulging sac into her gut
 >these mayfly-minded mares make wonderful incubators, you muse
 >and maybe, you hope, the extra feedings he's been allowing you
 >er
 >that you've been taking
 >will pay off, and you'll hear this mare's death-screams giving way to a greater miracle
 >as another stray thought makes itself known, you sooth it with a gentle touch of magic
 >no no, he's always had fangs and worn a crown
 >you look over to your... ugh... Master
 >were it not for that divine drink he feeds you so often, his demands of your deference would drive you to kill him
 >...
 >even the thought of his reaction to you trying that gives you pause
 >instead, you lean over the unicorn as she suckles on you
 >that brute may lay claim to the most suited of her... areas...
 >but that does not preclude a second spot of egg-laying
 >you kiss on one of the mare's flanks, leaving little nibble-marks
 >then the other
 >your tongue traces out your next target carefully...
 
 >you let out an unrestrained gurgle of pleasure as you feel the alien digits slide into you
 >had Stoic really managed to control such a ferocious beast, that he could command it to pleasure you like this?
 >you try to thank him by gulping down another of her brood
 >but after nearly a half-dozen of the things, you're starting to feel a bit full
 >you paw gently at your lover's still bulging piece, feeling a little sick as you watch egg number seven slide down into your mouth
 >you give a weak groan of protest as it too pushes past your esophagus
 >the stirring deep in your loins by that monstrous creature draws a stronger groan from you
 >"Oh... are you feeling full, darling?"
 >you turn as much as the tube down your throat allows, nodding to him as you wipe at the tears that each of her eggs forces out of you
 >"Alright, my sweet, just one more then..."
 >you try to shake your head, that'd really be just too much
 >but it seems your body won't let you move that way
 >curious
 >well, whether you want to or not, you feel his last come pressing against your lips
 >nothing for it now
 >you open as wide as you can, and it doesn't seem to take as much effort this time
 >straight into you... mostly
 >it lands and you feel the whole pile of eggs shift in your belly
 >oof
 >but at least it's over now
 >you feel the long nozzle slip past your lips as your mate stands tall over you
 >you gasp for air; how did you manage all that without passing out
 "Ohh~... sweetie, I... I feel so full... I'm glad I could..."
 >you take a moment to gather your thoughts
 >glad you could be such a good incubator for his darling spawn?
 >your head-voice suggests innocently
 >yes, that sounds about right
 "...could be your egg-holder... but I don't think... I could swallow another one~!"
 
 
 >you and your changeling breeding tool look at each other
 >'she can't swallow another one', she says
 >it's probably sets a bad precedent to share a laugh at somepony's expense with a creature you're using as a slave
 >but you can't help but chuckle and neither can Chrysalis
 "Well, 'Sewman', shouldn't you be a proper gentleman?"
 >Chrysalis' grin is absolutely predatory
 >she takes one more nibble on the not-so-thin mare's flank before raising the ovipositor and stepping carefully around
 >"Don't worry, my little clutch-cunt, you just lay there and relax,"
 >you help her guide her thorax into position
 >staring at her stabbing clumsily around the mare's rump is definitely not conducive to you planting your own seed inside your shared victim
 >"I'll do aaaall the work this time."
 >Chrysalis whispers into the brainwashed pone's ear
 >you've primed the little thing quite enough
 >time for the main attraction
 >the green goop slathering her target spills down onto your shaft
 >ooh, tingly
 >the mare's juices mixing with it keeps you from going completely numb, but it's definitely a lighter sensation than you're used to
 >"Ready?"
 >Chrysalis asks breathily
 >neither you nor your pet waste time waiting to hear a response
 >ovipositor and member both stuff into her at once, eliciting a shriek
 >you spread the little pony's cheeks to allow more egg-shaft inside
 >Chrysalis nibbles at her ear, her own thrusting falling out of sync with yours as her sac undulates
 >you can see the outline of the first egg moving towards its target while you jackhammer the mare's muff
 >damn, it skeeved you out the first few times you saw it
 >but you have to admit, you think as it presses against Odyssey's balloon knot
 >that's kinda hot
 
 >oh god
 >your brain is fucking melting
 >you thought you were done when your lover pulled herself from your throat
 >while he was repositioning, the thing she was sharing you with had withdrawn his hand, leaving you longing for release
 >apparently that isn't going to be a problem
 >Stoic was never one for dirty talk, so hearing him call you her "clutch-cunt" perked your ears up
 >the moment you felt that pressure against your little cinnamon starfish, it had you on edge again
 >a sensation like warm liquid being poured between your cheeks preceded the now-familiar numbness, your face burning red
 >what has gotten into him now? Taking charge of you like this?
 >"Ready?"
 >your love's breath is hot against your ear
 "YeeeaaAAAAAHN~!"
 >you barely get the first syllable out before your face gets shoved into the dungeon floor
 >you're so full
 >SO full
 >you don't need to look to see what the creature's changed his hand for
 >you can feel it pumping away inside you, slamming into you with reckless abandon
 >and just above it
 >ooh
 >a now-familiar pressure of something a bit bigger than your hoof pushing at your backdoor
 >teeth on your ear
 >breath on your neck
 >hands holding your hips
 >you close your eyes, just focusing on how much you can feel
 >shouting encouragement and direction in between an incoherent babble of ecstasy
 >every touch, every pinch, every caress
 >as your beloved squeezes another bulb inside you, you wail like a harlot
 >"Such a good hatchery..."
 >you go half-blind with an explosion of colors as you go sailing over the edge
 >the stiff rod in your snatch swells in response, and you can hear the thing's labored breathing as it paints your walls white
 >another egg inside of you
 >how
 >you don't even
 >fuck
 >"Ooh, I think she liked it!"
 >"I wonder if this one even needed my spells to be convinced to bear my young?"
 >your mate and his beast chuckle to themselves as you lay there in a pool of muddled green and white
 >"May I...?"
 >"Eh... sure. You did well enough."
 
 >for Sprawling Odyssey, the peak moment of this little triste is when that last egg slides into her and she moans her way to orgasm
 >for Chrysalis, it's now, as you allow her a little snack as reward for her obedience
 >but for you, it isn't the feeling of release as you cum inside the addled mare's sopping box
 >not that you're one to turn that opportunity down
 >but the part that does it, for you?
 >it's right here
 >you watch as the warm fuzzies the egg-stuffed mare is feeling get sucked out of the very air
 >you can actually see her eyes lose their green tint
 >her whole posture changes
 >and when she looks up, free of the magical fog in her mind
 >there's Chrysalis
 >not her precious Princess Celestia
 >not her adoring husband
 >but a bug, towering over her, ovipositor still dripping with the green slime she's filled to the brim with
 >that look of terror and despair?
 >that's why you choose the worst offenders to be brought down here, offered up as sacrifice
 >to see them build their hopes up so high, to convince themselves that even in their darkest hour, their loved ones are with them
 >they'll believe any lie, accept any punishment no matter how severe
 >they lie to themselves that they're doing the right thing, opposing you and Nightmare Moon
 >they lie to themselves that they'll escape once they're caught
 >they like to themselves that they're called to something greater, that in the end they'll win
 >but they can't lie to themselves when they wake up with a belly full of eggs, while the creature who laid them sucks away every trace of happiness and love
 >Odyssey begins to blubber as the sparkle in her eyes dims
 >"S...Stoic?"
 >oof
 >deep in denial, this one
 >Chrysalis finishes her meal, and you snap a lead to her collar
 "Guards, take this one away. She's seen her use."
 >you walk over to the table, squeezing a few drops each of Felicity and Cadenza's Aire into the chalice along with the usual red wine
 >"Stoic? Darling?"
 >she's actually straining at her leash
 
 >holy shit, did Chrysalis leave her hypnotized too long?
 >she can't seriously be this delusional
 >you carry the wine to your pet, who gulps it down greedily, seeming to enjoy the diluted potion even more than pure love from its source
 >the guards finally get the hysterical pone out the door
 >she puts up a surprising struggle for someone who can barely move for how full she is
 >the last thing you hear before the door slams is her crying her stallion's name
 >"Stoic, please! Don't leave me yet! Don't le--"
 >...
 >you like it more when they're angry
 >Chrysalis finishes the last of her drought and sits back, panting in relief as she feels the raw love-fascimile crashing through her veins
 >the trembling in her legs lessens after a few seconds
 >you'll have to order a few more bottles, and step up testing on the older drones
 >her tolerance to the stuff is starting to get expensive
 >"Ahh... I think she may be the one,"
 >she mutters
 >three batches have hatched so far
 >all males
 >maybe she'll be the one to bring a successor to term
 >it's not an exact science, but ponies with a deeper love seem to be better incubators
 >or maybe it was ponies with love for lots of others?
 >shit, you need to stop smoking before your "chats" with Zecora
 >anyway, Chrysalis seems to like that one's chances
 >you'll make a note to retry Odyssey if she winds up hatching males
 >either way, the army grows
 "Chrysalis."
 >her lax smile fades as you grab her attention
 >"Yes, Master?"
 "Question for you..."
 
 
 >you march back towards the stairs to the castle proper
 >a bronze hoof juts through the bars, reaching for your leg
 >"Please! Please, where's my Stoic?! I just... let me back in! I'll take more eggs! I'll do anything, just let me see him again!"
 >you look over at her
 >lying to her would do no good
 >so you lean down to look her in the eye
 "You'll see your husband..."
 >if you look out at the gallows by the western wall
 "if you hatch a strong brood from those eggs."
 >you lying sack of shit
 
 >"Hyah!"
 WHAM
 >you are Anon
 >and you are on your ass, uncharacteristic for someone in your position
 >as loath as you are to admit it, things may have spiraled out of hand a touch
 >when you brought a small cadre of your changeling troop to Bonded Courage's hideout and goaded her into attacking, you were confident you knew her style
 >between your cheap scenery-chewing villain act and the changelings disguised as her first in command and her rival-turned-friend, it wasn't hard to encourage her to attack you
 >you'd been expecting to get ambushed during patrol all week
 >what you hadn't been expecting was so bold a strike right outside your quarters first thing in the morning
 >still recovering from last night's session with Zecora, you were woefully unprepared for a full-body charge to the gut
 >so here you sit, the leftover haze from the zebra's "herbal remedies" evaporating in the heat of your rage at being interrupted
 >but the green-coated mare doesn't give you the opportunity to use her as an outlet
 >she's already off towards the stairs, charging down into the depths of the castle
 >as you heft yourself to your feet and take off after her, your anger is colored by a modicum of excitement
 >it's so much more interesting when they give you a reason to punish them
 >it makes their capture and captivity more... right, you feel
 >plus, the defiant ones always come back for more
 >oh yes
 >she'll be back
 >but first things first, you've got to catch the little hero
 >as you chase her, she ducks through passages and weaves around corners with a purpose
 "Where do you think you're going?"
 >you shout after her, indulging in a mad cackle of excitement
 >it only spurs her to pour on more speed
 >you pick up your pace to match
 >you may not have rippling abs or bulging biceps, but over months of daily patrols, you've built up a hell of an endurance
 >you could do this for days
 "You can run, but you can't hide, bitch!"
 >she chances a look over her shoulder at you, meeting your gaze
 >just for a second
 >your face splits into a manic grin
 >and her visage hardens
 >in one swift movement, she jumps and plants her hind hooves on the wall at the end of the corridor
 >turns as she pushes off
 >and headbutts you right in the fucking chest
 "Heh."
 >not this time
 >you grab her around her middle in midair to soften the blow, her momentum knocking you off balance nonetheless
 >the bear hug you administer squeezes the breath out of the rough blond-maned pony
 >she lets out a cough and wriggles desperately in your grasp, but to no avail
 >you nearly have her unconscious when a lucky kick connects with your chin
 >your grip loosens for barely a second, but it's enough, and she scampers out of your grip and down the next corridor
 "Get back here you cunt!"
 >you snarl after her
 >more angry at yourself for losing your hold than at her for taking advantage
 >she's heading further downstairs...
 >what the hell is she planning?
 >to make up for her aching chest, she kicks over tables and suits of armor as she passes
 >you lose sight of her once or twice as you dodge the obstacles between you and your prey
 >it takes until you see the unconscious guards and that rotting wooden door swinging open to realize what you should've known the moment she slammed into you this morning
 >she's here to rescue the prisoners
 "Of course..."
 
 >as you step into the dungeon, your eyes sweep over the scene
 >seven broken locks
 >one prisoner halfway out of his cage
 >two unconscious unicorns slumped on each other next to the door
 >and a blond tail disappearing into the darkness
 >truly, Bonded has no place to run
 >what a shamefully brief little hunt
 >maybe you'll give her some friendly advice between shifts as the guards' newest toy
 >it's so much more fun when they pose a real challenge
 >but there will be time for that later; right now, you need to set about getting this place back in order
 >and that starts with...
 >hmph
 >all it takes is a stern look to get the prisoner-pony moving in the other direction
 >what a refreshing change it is to have someone who knows their proper place
 >it almost makes you regret that the best case scenario for him is something exploding from his ribcage
 >then again, he did talk to someone who had planned at one point to resist the Crown
 >oh well
 "Pele?  Skadi?"
 >you approach the twin unicorn guardponies, checking their eyes and pulses
 >the red-coated guard's pupils contract properly, and her sister in blue has steady breathing
 >they seem to be fine, just unconscious
 >(Bonded never kills her enemies if she can help it, you remind yourself)
 >you'd have been miffed if she took two of the guard's best casters from you
 >stepping over them, you brace yourself for whatever ambush the little mare has planned for you
 
 >you'd never lit Chrysalis' lair very well to start with
 >but now there's only the faint light of a single candle
 >within the sphere of light it gives off, you can see a familiar green mare hacking away at the thick chains that hold your lovebug aloft
 >with one last swing, she cleaves through the link, and you hear a sound like a sack of potatoes being dropped onto stone
 >you hear an inaudible whisper from the heroine mare, words of encouragement no doubt for the captive she's trying to save
 >and then
 >the real show begins
 >you see the dark, almost-feral eyes of the changeling queen snap open and focus on the disturbance
 "I see you're trying to rescue one of my pets..."
 >the chuckle in your voice comes as much from how ham-fisted you're playing this role as it does from anticipation
 "...very poor choice."
 >"?"
 >Bonded lets out a grunt of confusion
 >"...!"
 >followed in short order by a gasp of surprise as green fire flashes to illuminate the room
 >the frantic scrambling of her hooves knocks over the candle, plunging the scene into true and absolute darkness
 >but you can hear the sound of two mares galloping, a rhythm broken by jumps and rolls as your elusive prey and your pet vie for dominance over each other
 >occasionally the chime of steel on steel echoes alarmingly
 >you hear a stirring behind you and look back just long enough to see Pele shaking her head
 >perfect
 "You!  Light!  Now!"
 >the orders snap even the half-dazed pony to attention, a pearl of flame appearing out of nothingness to illuminate the battle
 
 >one Bonded Courage leaps at the other, the twin mares not even taking notice of the change in lighting
 >the stiff and stilted way one moves gives her away as your pet
 >though the dark light of the room when she transformed gives her mane and coat a darker more sinister tone, so it's not a perfect imitation to start
 >that and the way she looks to you compulsively, questioningly, her attention divided between yourself and the earth pony she's assaulting
 >you smirk, nodding at her once
 >'Go ahead, take her down'
 >this is perfect
 >after almost a week of neglect outside of her feedings, you can see how a changeling fighting for her life performs
 >does she want this enough?
 >they parry and step away, Chrysalis avoiding the next feint almost out of habit
 >trying to misdirect a Changeling?
 >you see her punish the idealistic little whelp with a forehoof to the side
 >the singing blade that Bonded wields barely nicks the disguised mare's face
 >she hisses in pain and rage, countering with a full-body slam that knocks the green-coated mare's sword from her mouth
 >before she can even think to recover, a gout of green magic fires into her forehead, putting the mare forcefully to sleep as your pet smirks
 >when the paper-thin disguise sloughs off of her to reveal her real form, you can see the toll your weeks of meddling have taken on her body
 >her eyes have a crazed look to them, twitching spastically between you, Bonded, and the goblet that you pour her "medicine" into
 >once her chitin was black and polished to a mirror shine; now she looks grey and worn
 >her mane, never beautiful to begin with, now mats greasily to the side of her face
 >even her midsection looks desiccated
 >"Please..."
 >she croaks, looking up at you despite having a good six inches on you at full height
 >starving, sleep-deprived, unbound, exhausted, and still she looks to you for permission
 >"May I... please... Master..."
 >hearing her use that title still gives you shivers, it's so good
 >the twin guards watch from either side of the doorway, curiosity superseding common sense as Pele's ice-inclined sister joins the waking world once more
 "Hm.  You know, I think this does call for a reward."
 >you muse, walking over to the goblet and pouring the usual ration of wine into it
 >you drip three whole drops of Cadenza's Tincture in
 >a triple ration of what she's used to
 >but this time, it's different
 >in addition to the love potion and merlot, you pull your dagger and prick your thumb lightly
 >the drop of blood causes the entire drink to shine with a pink light, heart-shaped bubbles rising from the top of it
 >a love potion given a focus is more powerful
 >but it's also harder to break the spell
 "I think you've proven yourself ready for this."
 >you turn around, placing the goblet on the ground beside the unconscious mare
 >you forgo words
 >what is there to say?
 >you can practically see the gears churning away in her drug-addled head
 >months of drilling into her that this was her fate, a tool for her Master to use
 >she could retain her self-reliance, spend her life pretending to struggle against you, just like the pony she'd feed on
 >or
 >she could surrender the illusion of choice, and become out-and-out dependent on you, with but a sip of that drought
 >why wear the mask?
 >why keep pretending?
 >it'll be so easy to just
 >give
 >in...
 >her eyes close as the first drop of your concoction touches her lips
 >she slurps it noisily down her throat, letting the love pour into her
 >rivulets of it run down her chin in her haste to drink it all in
 >her entire body shakes with the intensity of the artificially manufactured affection
 >the cup clatters to the floor and her with it, convulsing as the unbelievable pleasure washes over her
 >she chose... wisely
 >you smirk and turn your focus to the fallen pone beside her
 >leaning down, you pick up Bonded Courage by the scruff of her neck
 >you'll have to find the perfect place for this one's punishment
 >as you carry her under one arm from the dungeon, Skadi hazards a question
 >"Ah, sir... what's to be done with, er..."
 >she trails off, staring apprehensively at Chrysalis' trembing form
 >you close and lock the door
 >staring at it for a second, you compose your thoughts
 >you turn towards the stairs that lead up and out of the bleak little dungeon
 "Nothing.  Get the smith and the carpenter to fix the mess this one made,"
 >you shake the earth pony in your arm
 "and fetch me if that one wakes up."
 >walking away without a backward glance, you ponder on just what kind of discipline befits a traitor to the kingdom like Bonded Courage
 >soon, you're sure, you'll have to have a plan in place for your newest willing slave
 >but it will have to wait
 >no rest for the wicked, after all
 
 >it is night
 >well, that's pointless to say, really
 >when was the last time it wasn't night?
 >but suffice to say, it is pitch dark, which means that when your eyes squint open, they meet nothing but blackness
 >dimly, from the other side of your thick wooden door, you can hear voices calling
 >they sound... frantic, you decide groggily, wondering vaguely why you woke up in the first place
 >the answer slowly dawns on your as you feel a warm, wet sensation against your neck
 >ah, Fluttershy
 >a thin strip of light grows bright as a guard runs past your room with a torch, fading back into shadow as he gallops past
 >"No si... ... where... rn Hall... ... ... ... ext?"
 >you catch snippets of an increasingly alarming conversation
 >surely the imbeciles didn't manage to let your catch from yesterday escape without you getting to administer punishment
 >no pony could be that stupid...
 >grumbling to yourself, you reach up and put a hand against your slave's cheek
 >she plants one last tender kiss on you and obediently shifts away
 >rolling from your bed, you channel your annoyance at the commotion the guards are making into motivation to act like the bloodthirsty monster they expect
 >the door slams open
 >and you're no longer Anon, but The Beast that haunts these halls
 "What under the Starry Sky above is going on out here."
 >you growl, stepping into the hall in front of a night watch pegasus
 >he's flying so quickly he has to pull a tight loop to avoid crashing into you
 >saluting nervously, he hems and haws for as long as you'll let him
 >'as long as you'll let him' being the two seconds it takes for your face to drop any pretense of patience
 >"Er, sorry to disturb you, uh, sir, there's been a slight mishap with, ah, the prisoner that--"
 >you hold up one finger to stop his blathering, closing your eyes in frustration and lowering your hand
 >time to steel yourself for the answer to a question you dread asking
 "Are you telling me you lost her?"
 >you tilt your head to one side and crack your neck ominously
 >"Not me, sir!  The guards on duty..."
 >opening your eyes and staring him down is all it takes for the excuse to die on his lips
 >you really have a rather imposing presence when you stand up at full height
 >other than the gentle buffet of wind from the pegasus guard at your side, you could hear a pin drop
 >good, you hate having to raise your voice
 >especially so early after waking up
 "Tomorrow, I'm going to administer some punishment to a few very disobedient little ponies."
 >as you open your door, you look down one end of the hallway to the guards gathered there
 "I intended it for her, but I'm not picky."
 >you walk back into the darkness of your room
 "If there's nopony in her cell when I go to get her, I'll start looking for suitable replacements."
 >and with that, the heavy oak door slams shut again
 >well shit
 >this is going to be a clusterfuck of a day, you think morosely as you climb back into bed
 >at least you have a pegasus sleep aid to make the rest of the night sting less
 "Come here."
 >you lift the covers and let your lewd alarm clock crawl underneath, feeling her shuffling about just long enough to find her designated spot between your thighs
 >the gentle, steady suckling sensation soothes your troubled mind as you close your eyes once more, hands behind your head
 >soon your eyelids start to feel heavy, even despite Fluttershy's more aggressive licking and kissing down below
 >the cool feeling, like too much mint, as she silently worships her Master is heavenly
 >such a good pet
 >
 >
 >...
 >your eyes snap open
 >through some miracle you manage not to jolt away
 >but you can feel your heart kick into overdrive as you stretch
 >calmly, casually, gently
 >you stretch your arm towards the bedside table
 >a fragmented half-second of memory playing over and over on repeat in your head
 >of you locking Fluttershy's door up tight
 >hearing her whimper in her sleep on the other side
 >the hilt of the dagger is almost in your hand
 >"...mmm?"
 >you hear from under the covers
 >even in the dark of night you can see the faint glow of green eyes staring out from under your covers
 >fuck
 
 >a yellow pegasus, pink mane drooping gently over one eye, has your member wrapped in her unnaturally long tongue
 >she looks up at you questioningly, a creature still wearing the face of the demure pegasus mare you subjugated and twisted for your own pleasures and purpose
 >your fingers strain futilely to stretch the half-inch they need to wrap around the hilt of your dagger
 >you refuse to die to the desperate ploy of a roach who would prefer death to slavery
 >but the insectoid thing stares unwaveringly nto your eyes, betraying more confusion than malice behind them
 >then, in sudden understanding, her visage softens even more as she closes her eyes, a spot just above the Faux-tershy's forehead focusing a pinprick of green light
 >with an emerald flash, her disguise disintegrates, the magical backlash kicking the blanket off of both of you and to the floor
 >then the the true face of your dick's captor is revealed
 >her face, even more ashen now than when you left her, stares hopefully up at you
 >as her lips draw a torturously slow path from the base of your cock to its head, you do your level best not to panic
 >it's so faint it might very well be your imagination
 >but you'd still swear you can feel the pinpricks of her razor-sharp teeth as she slurps her way up
 >if she nicked you, there's no sign of it as she pulls her head away, lips making a faint 'pop' as they separate from you
 >"Sorry Master,"
 >she rasps, giving the tip an affectionate peck
 >"a disguise was the only way I could reach you.  I won't do it again."
 >she rubs her muzzle against the inside of your thigh plaintively
 >"..."
 >she seems to be waiting for something
 "...What are you doing here?"
 >your voice is soft, almost uncharacteristically so
 >but the combination of confusion, grogginess, and concern saps the gravel from your voice
 >a pony as malnourished as she is should barely be able to move
 >and yet she braved being caught by the patrols, or simply collapsing in the hallways from exhaustion
 >for what?
 >"I..."
 >she whispers
 >"I came to beg for what I have always needed, Master.  Love.  Your love."
 >you snort derisively, almost out of instinct
 >she winces from the sound, but keeps her head bowed
 >after a few seconds of silence, she looks up again, eyes sparkling in the darkness of your room
 >"Please."
 >you lay a hand on her temple, thumb hooked around her horn
 "You thought disobedience would inspire me to feed you?  Disguising yourself?  Leaving your cell to seek me out?  I thought you had learned..."
 >you pull her head back by pushing against her horn
 >she follows the guidance of your hand willingly, never breaking eye contact
 >nothing if not obedient
 >finally, the dagger is in reach
 >but a question surfaces in the back of your mind
 >she doesn't even flinch as the blade presses against her neck
 "Why?"
 >she answers clearly and without hesitation
 >"You are my Master.  My heart, mind, and body are yours.  If you deign to love me, I will accept your love."
 >she closes her eyes again, a tear forming at the corner of each eye
 >"If you send me to the dungeon below, I will wait there until you send for me."
 >she leans into the knife, enough to draw a few droplets of green ichor from the wound
 >"...And if I am to die at your hands, I pray only that you grant me the mercy of a swift end.  But no other's love will sate me, Master.  It cannot.  I would not want it to.  So I beg you."
 >"Please."
 >"Love me."
 >you set the blade down, the green viscous fluid on the tip actually luminescing slightly
 >with your freshly freed hand, you pinch the bridge of your nose and let out an aggravated sigh
 "...You know better than this."
 >firmly, you guide the deposed queen by her horn off of your bed
 >you can see the telltale glint of a tear roll down her cheek, but she remains otherwise stoic
 >her horn feels fragile to the touch
 >unsurprising, given how malnourished she's been lately
 >but that's no excuse
 >you swing your legs over the side of the bed and put on just enough clothing to be decent
 "I know for a fact you do, and going against my wishes to ask me to indulge you was stupid."
 >you walk her to the door
 >more than once she stumbles, though you're not sure whether the cause is emotional or physical
 >all the while thinking about how disappointed and irritated you are about her behavior
 >can't let her get a taste for whatever sympathy you feel for her
 >as your hand touches the doorknob, you soften your grip on her horn
 "I will give you the love you crave if and when you prove to me you deserve it.  Now, go and wait for me in your rightful place."
 >your hand shifts from her horn to her cheek
 >her gaze is forcefully pulled to you
 >"Mast--?"
 >the kiss you give her is not rough and forceful, nor is it fierce and passionate
 >but it has tenderness
 >a rare commodity indeed
 >it ends as suddenly as it begins
 >"W...why...?"
 >you narrow your eyes at her
 >she's seriously beginning to strain your patience
 >but, you remind yourself, she's still adjusting
 "You said it yourself: you belong to me now.  You are mine to do with as I please, and I don't need to explain how I treat you to anyone.  Least of all you."
 >you open the door a crack, just enough to let in the light necessary for the two of you to see each other fully
 "Now.  Go."
 >she nods resolutely and steps out, not bothering this time to disguise herself
 >you watch her walk dutifully down the hallway, turning back to look at you just before she descends the stairs
 >some of the shakiness in her legs is gone, you note
 >after she's trotted down the stairs, you close it and decide to have another go at getting to sleep
 >it's much harder than last time
 >your mind is preoccupied with how to deal with your pet, now
 >on the one hand, you can't...no, you won't
 >allow a slave to dictate how you treat them
 >but by the same token
 >when affection is literally nourishment, you can ill-afford to punish her with neglect
 >will the love potion still suffice for keeping her alive?
 >how much of what she said about not feeding on another's love was true?
 >...
 >you resolve to talk with Zecora about your concerns tomorrow