My Little Slaves - Chrysalis 2


                                            Chrysalis Domination pt. 2 - After Lunch

                                            GRENADIERAPPLE

                                            http://pastebin.com/Rjfa6JUg


                                            Posted on Apr  8th, 2014

                                            Copied on Apr 15th, 2014


                                            >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