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Queen Chrysalis stood before the glowing gateway, the wind whipping her azure mane majestically. She stared deep into the cobalt abyss of the whirling portal, the bizarre mirror that her changeling minions had brought her. As she gazed far into its writhing depths, Chrysalis briefly pondered the potential it might hold, of the sheer impossibility of the vastness of the worlds beyond, the promises and feeding they entailed.

“All right, hurry up and get this fucker open!”

Very briefly.

Her changelings swarmed about, desperately straining to discover the secret of somehow activating the stolen mirror.

Completely oblivious to the fact that it required no such activation, and that their queen was currently stepping through its boundaries.

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Rob had one goal in mind as he dragged the vial of ‘magic fluid’ across his bathroom mirror.

Ah, yes. The bathroom mirror.

The staple of all cheap wannabe conjurors.

The bottle of one hundred and sixty proof vodka was a big help, though.

Ah, yes. The vodka.

The staple of all cheap college dropouts.

Rob held the faded spell book in one hand, his nose crinkling as the overpowering scent of the vodka assaulted him. His bloodshot brown eyes didn’t make him look any less disheveled, nor did his unkempt sandy hair. He picked at his t-shirt momentarily, dabbing a lock of lavender on the mirror and reciting the ancient and holy text that would summon forth an unholy creature from the depths of hell, the subservient succubus.

“Do the pelvic thru~ust,” Rob chanted ominously. “Until it drives you insane – shit.” He dropped the worn grimoire, lucky that it hadn’t fallen directly into the toilet. What was the next part about? Something about a time warp?

“Ah, fuck it,” Rob hiccupped, evidently having imbibed quite a large quantity of the ‘magic fluid’ for himself. “Magic-o, presto!” he waved his hand over the mirror expectantly.

Unsurprisingly, absolutely nothing happened whatsoever.

“… Abracadabra!”

Again, nothing happened.

“… Avacado! Albuquerque!”

Perhaps he’d had a little too much to drink since his girlfriend left him for that guy with the cool eye patch.

“… Avada Kedavra?”

Rob dumped what little vodka remained down the drain of the sink, watching it spiral away.

“Well, that was fuckin’ pointless,” he grumbled as he stood woozily. No sooner had he done so, however, that his mirror promptly exploded outward in a violent combustion of black flames and billowing shards of ebony tendrils.

“HAIL SATAN!” Rob shrieked in a high pitched voice as he fell to the floor, clutching at his empty vodka bottle as if it were a bullet proof security blanket. However, the chaos erupting from his mirror quickly faded as he discovered the unwavering form of the Queen of Changelings towering above him.

“… Uh… hi?” Rob wriggled his fingers meekly. “Are you from hell?”

“Equestria,” Chrysalis glared down at him. “But close enough. Is this the world of love my servants informed me that it was?”

“Well,” Rob stuttered. “This is, uh… my love shack.”

“… Really?” the changeling queen peered about the small and dingy apartment. “I don’t think you put enough emphasis on ‘shack’.”

“Ouch. Dude,” Rob frowned, sitting up.

They both sat uneasily in front of each other in the manner of a pair of awkward teenagers before Rob finally attempted to make the best of his obviously non-humanoid succubus from ‘close enough to’ hell.

“So…” he tapped his fingers together. “… Wanna fuck?”

“Boy, do I!” Chrysalis clapped her holed hooves together excitedly, practically tasting the impending amounts of love this odd creature was about to so stupidly bestow upon her.

Well, I guess getting laid with something is better than not getting laid at all, Rob thought vaguely to himself. As Rob fancied himself the romantic type, he carefully swooped up the flustered changeling queen in his arms and tottered drunkenly from the ‘magical summoning chamber’ toward his bedroom.

“Ow.”

“Sorry,” Rob muttered when he accidentally turned too far, and Chrysalis’s head thumped loudly against the doorframe.

He certainly didn’t sound much like he was sorry, to be frank.

Chrysalis tumbled uncomfortably from his arms and onto the squeaky mattress, which emitted a couple of creaks every time that she moved.

Rob simply stood in one spot for a moment, dimly thinking.

“… Well?” Chrysalis said expectantly, beckoning him forward. “Hurry up, already! Your queen needs some lovin’.”

“Uh…” he groaned, obviously distressed. “Yeah, yeah. Just, uh… just gimme a second.” He took his time peeling off his evidently unwashed clothing one layer at a time, ever so slowly taking off one article after another.

Eventually, Rob was left standing before her in nothing but his boxers.

“Are you done taking your time yet?” Chrysalis tapped her hooves against the bedpost impatiently. “I easily could have stuffed at least half of the holes in my body by this point.”

“I’m gettin’ there, I’m gettin’ there!” Rob insisted, tugging off his boxers and gripping his member in one hand. “I, uh… I just seem to be having a little… trouble. Down there,” he said uncomfortably.

The changeling queen stared at him for a long moment, giving him a level look.

“… You’re not gay, are you?”

“What?” Rob barked, offended. “Of course n –”

“Because it’s totally fine if you are,” Chrysalis pronounced slowly. “I’ve fed off of plenty of gay stallions in my time.”

“I’m not gay!” Rob insisted angrily, gripping his length harder as if to prove it. Coincidentally, it didn’t help. “I just can’t seem to, uh… you know.”

“… Know what?” she asked.

“You know,” Rob shifted agitatedly. “Climbing a silly string ladder.”

“I’m afraid I don’t quite get that reference,” Chrysalis admitted.

“Playin’ soccer without cleats.”

“Still don’t quite understand.”

“Shooting pool with a rope.”

“Completely oblivious to what you’re trying to insinuate.”

“I can’t fuckin’ get it up!” Rob blurted.

“Ahhhhh,” she nodded understandingly. “… Wait, you mean you don’t find me attractive?”

“No, no, that’s not it at all!” he stuttered, trying desperately to save face. “I swear to god, I never have this problem!”

“Of course you don’t,” Chrysalis deadpanned, folding her hooves in a dissatisfactory fashion before her.

“Come on, you fuckin’ thing,” Rob swore angrily at his flaccid flesh stick as he slammed it repeatedly against the mattress in the vain hopes of bringing blood flow into it. “I just – ow! – can’t seem to quite – ah, shit! – get this thing to – ow, Jesus! – work properly tonight!”

“Have you tried toggling it off, then toggling it back on again?” Chrysalis added helpfully.

“YES, I HAVE FUCKING TRIED THAT!”

“You know,” Chrysalis said conversationally as Rob relentlessly beat his meat against the mattress, earning a creak with each slap. “Shining Armor had the same problem, believe it or not. He turned out to be queer as a silver bit, too.”

“I am not gay, goddammit!”

“Hey, your junk is starting to change color! We have so much more in common now!”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!”

0-0-0-0-0

Mister Cake whistled to himself cheerily as he descended through Sugarcube Corner, hearing what sounded like a rabid weasel fighting a blender. However, it turned out to only be Pinkie Pie sleeping fitfully atop the counter, coated head to hoof in sugar.

“Did poor Pinkie have another sugar crash?” his wife asked curiously as she nosed past him, peering about the kitchen that the mostly unconscious and severely twitchy mare had made. Mister Cake almost could have sworn that Pinkie was foaming at the mouth a little.

“Must have,” he tsked a couple of times. At least, until he discovered that all of their stores of sugar were relatively untouched.

“Oh, sweet Celestia – she found the stash!”

Author's Note

Yeah, in case it wasn't obvious from the 'Comedy' tag, it's a parody on clop.
You caught me.

Note: not to be taken seriously, under any circumstances.
For any reason.
Ever.

Also, the prompt for this story?
It was a discussion between myself and a friend. The discussion went like this.
Friend: Chrysalis is best waifu.
Me: I beg to differ! D:
Friend: No, seriously! Now if only I could think of a way to get REALLY kinky with her...
Me (Stupidly): ... Doesn't she have a LOT more than a few holes?
*Silence.*
Friend: HnNnNnNg! O-Oh god! OH GOD, FUCK YES!

And I never saw him again.