or, The Return of Jade Goldwespe
“Wake up!”
The water was an explosion, a stream of shock that destroyed whatever place Chrysalis had been hiding within and brought her into the dungeon, naked, shivering, and surging with adrenaline. It dripped into the cracks in her worn carapace, sent trills of pain through her horn, and filled her mouth. She tried to spit it out but, her jaw had been forced open. All she could do was moan and tilt her head as the cold water flowed out of her lips.
She coughed, and blinked at the darkness. Changelings had excellent night-vision, but she could see very little. A dim glow could have been a torch on the wall, or could have been a slot in a door. She was sure there was a visor of some kind on her face, to dim her vision, but couldn’t move her hooves to her face to check. Both of her hooves were bound to her sides.
In fact, it seemed that all of her limbs were restrained in some way: she could feel straps across her barrel that had her tied down to a lightly-padded bench of some sort, something... sticky on her wings that made it impossible to do anything more than twitch them, and something tied to each of her hind legs spreading them uncomfortably wide. She couldn’t even flick her tail upwards to cover her groin without a weight of some kind pulling it down.
It was a distinctly worrying sensation.
“Are you awake, Chrysalis?” came the voice. “Perhaps cold water doesn’t wake changelings. Perhaps I should tip a bucket of hot coal ash on your leg and see—”
“Hlahh!” Even after being doused with water, her mouth felt unnaturally dry.
“Oh, you are awake. That’s wonderful. I’ve been waiting for this a while, longer than even I knew, I think. I didn’t feel like putting it off any longer.”
Hooves clacked on the stone floor. Not a griffon or ikaroi, too many hooves for a minotaur. Something of a relief. Griffon prisoners rarely last long. Equine, then, probably a pony. Could be good, or bad. Ponies had strict rules about prisoners and dungeons, but when the odd pony decided not to follow them...
If only the infernal, slushy fuzz in her head would disappear and let her recognise that voice.
“Oh, my...” said the voice. It now came from between Chrysalis’s legs. A hoof touched her inner thigh and sent a chain of twitches all through her body. Soft, hooficured, not a rasp or hard edge to speak of. Whoever it was, they were rich. If they were an old target of Chrysalis’s, that didn’t narrow it down much.
Chrysalis felt the figure inhale deeply, less than an inch from her groin. A soft moan came back. At her full mental capacity, she could tell between every single one of her past targets, lovers and rivals from a half-second recording of their sexual noises. Now, she struggled to tell which species her captor was.
It struck her that she had been placed into a similar state as her past captives. She wished that was more help, but it meant little. Her changeling rivals would gladly force her into such a state to see a former queen humiliated in such a way.
“Oohhh, Celestia!” murmured her captor, giggling. “You smell... you smell exactly like you always did. I thought you might change that, like you do your body and your voice, but no... I have to say, Chrysalis, that takes me back.”
‘Celestia.’ Equestrian, then, her captor was definitely Equestrian. Met her in disguise and didn’t use pheromone modifiers, at least a decade ago. Doesn’t know the full extent of changeling physiology. Cover must have been blown, but could have been after the fact. Almost certainly a pony. Narrows it down, but not enough. Fifty former targets fit that profile, at least.
She was missing something obvious, surely.
Hooves returned to trail along her thighs. “I remember these thighs. Heh. They were greener, and softer, and we were both smaller then... and they looked less like an uncooked lobster—” familiar with griffon luxury foods, definitely rich, probably well-travelled, business or government, still three dozen possibilities “—but I remember them wrapped around my cheeks all the same. I sometimes wish I could go back to those days, Chrysalis.”
The figure leapt over her body, pushed their muzzle up against her ear, and growled, “You’re sure as fuck gonna wish you could go back to those days.”
Agile, athletic. Possibly a pegasus?
Something shook and rattled on cheap plastic wheels across the stone floor, dragged towards her bound form by her captor. Swishing, jingling sounds came from it as it moved. Her captor busied herself next to it, selected an item, and marched back round to Chrysalis’s exposed hind legs.
“I know what your problem is, Chrysalis,” spat the captor, their voice dripping with venom, “you’ve hardened since we were last together. Don’t worry, I understand. You just need to be tenderized. The ninetails should help.”
The pain blazed as the first stroke cut down across her inner thigh, the shock of it making her choke on her spit as her whole body arched. Not agonizing, but intense, like the kind of hard slap to the face that knocks rational thought from the mind and oozes adrenaline from every pore. She coughed, breathed through her nose, and concentrated on pushing her mind out of her body, reducing pain to an acknowledgement of sensation.
The second stroke hit her other thigh and brought her back. The same pain shot through her, but it felt worse. Instead of feeling numbed by adrenaline, she was sharpened by it, as if struck with fever. Not agony, not yet, just the cold, hard realization that her body wasn’t working as it should. She’d been drugged.
“You’ve been drugged,” said her captor. “I had to ask the griffons for information on how they interrogate changelings, and some of the details were so disgusting I’m not yet sure it was worth it. Still, they tell me that meditating through pain is a basic skill for any shapeshifter. The same poison I’ve fed you to stop you shifting shape also stops you from retreating into your own skull. It’s all very convenient.”
The ninetails cracked down again on her left thigh, hard enough that the sound rang out and she could have swore something broke in her carapace. The pain rose and kept rising, and as it burned through her carapace and underchitin her heart rate rose along with it, a growing sense of unreasoning panic that she hadn’t felt in years. Pain was a foalish thing for larvae and broodlings, for the unskilled drones and fodder-workers who couldn’t suppress it, only experienced in full for rites and tests.
It had been too long since she had tested herself under such conditions. If she could not steel herself, she would break, and then what? She had no hive to give away, no cover to blow, no greater authority to betray. If her captor knew this, then it was a mere game of sadism. At best, it would be an excruciating wait before she could attempt escape. At worst, her captor wished her death, and was content to draw it out.
The whip kissed the same spot, left thigh, and before Chrysalis could even twitch the whip spun and came down a third time, harder than before, her captor throwing all their weight into it.
“Hnnaaagll!” She squealed through her open-mouth gag, her whole body thrashing.
She didn’t hear the crack of the whip, she felt something split in her own body and for sure it had split this time, carapace broken, she could feel her ichor flowing through, if her captor wasn’t careful they’d damage enough mature carapace to tear an artery and that would be that, she knew her captor didn’t want her dead, not that soon.
The next swing came harder, and didn’t let off for another two swings, both on her right thigh. Something, part of her, shifted and sloughed off. She choked on her own screams. The agony had arrived, white and sheer, a claw in her viscera gripping her and holding her paralyzed. Her whole body moved to flee it but she was perfectly restrained.
Only when she heard her own ichor, the magic liquid under her carapace that allowed her to shapeshift, dripping onto the floor below her did she realize that the beating had stopped. Her captor hadn’t moved. They were between her legs, still, breathing hard.
“Wow.” Her captor’s voice was excited, but not exhausted. “Your chitin is so... ugly. Awkward. Is it true that if you lose enough of it, you die?”
“Hlagl!” Chrysalis tried to reply in the affirmative, but all she could do was twitch and mumble.
A giggle. “I guess there’s only one way to find out!”
Her captor forced the handle end of the whip, tipped with a triangle of blunted metal, into an oozing split in her left thigh. Chrysalis screeched as she felt it being pried away, first with a series of sickening cracks, and then a noise like chicken wings being pulled apart.
Minutes. She had minutes, this would last minutes, they had surely torn an artery and there would be less than minutes to live if they didn’t stop and heal her, they had to want more they had to stop—
She went silent as her captor repeated the torture on her other thigh. The pain was real but she could not understand it, not because she had suppressed it but because there was so much pain that all she could do was float on top of it. A plate-sized piece of shell fell to the floor, followed by more airy, playful giggling as her captor pried more and more away.
Minutes had passed. They must have passed. Chrysalis could not understand why she was still alive.
She blinked as the visor was pulled from her face. The stone walls of the dungeon appeared in sudden clarity, only blurred by the tears in her eyes. Her captor had walked out of her field of view.
“Well? Take a look.”
Something floated up in front of her face. It was a piece of chitin—her chitin—dripping fresh ichor, but it was wrong. Silvery-purple where it should have been black, a matte brown where it should have been shiny. She recognized the colors, but it was not her usual carapace. In fact, it was almost as if—
“Shedding hormone,” said her captor, the voice clearer now, though she still couldn’t place it. “You’ve been soaking in it for days. We’ve had you in an induced coma ever since you were brought in, you see. The mixture wasn’t perfect and I’m sure we didn’t leave it as long as we should have, so it’ll hurt a lot more than it should, but it won’t kill you. Well, that won’t kill you, at least. In a few hours, I’ll have a nice and tasty softshell Chrysalis. I’m sure it’s not really necessary to see you stripped like a newly-hatched nymph, but I’ll be honest: I’m much more comfortable when you’re not wearing all that armor. You always did care about my comfort, Goldwespe...”
Jade Goldwespe. An old disguise. Dull, utilitarian, but never compromised. Narrows her captor down to half a dozen.
Chrysalis felt the tingle of magic on the back of her neck, and the ring gag fell away. It didn’t clatter to the floor. Magic. Magic means a horn. Captor can fly. Horn and wings mean...
“Oh, it’s you,” said Chrysalis, her voice hoarse.
Princess Cadance smiled sweetly. “You’re lucky, Chrysalis. If I hadn’t been expecting that kind of bravado, I might have killed you out of rage.”
Chrysalis spat on the floor. “Then why don’t you?”
Cadance shrugged. She didn’t look bloodthirsty, or demented, or crippled by angst and rage. She looked as if she’d just stepped away from a slightly competitive game of doubles tennis. Her mane was tied back in a neat, unpretentious ponytail, a light spritz of sweat coated her forehead, and she wore a worn-out Cloudsdale Plaza Kitchens waiter’s apron on her front.
“I don’t know,” she said, “I honestly don’t know. This... this isn’t me, really. I think revenge is weird. I think violence is at best, boring, and otherwise it’s just ugly. I don’t know why I’m here, doing this.” She cleared her throat. “Did you know that in the southern Griffon Kingdoms, they had capital punishment but no special method of execution? They’d just pick up a lash, like this one-” she jiggled a sturdy bullwhip hanging on the rack of torture instruments “-and just. Well. They’d just dial up the number of lashes a prisoner was due to receive until it was a thousand, or two thousand, something they couldn’t possibly survive. Isn’t that just awful?”
Cadance leapt up and straddled Chrysalis, the alicorn’s athletic frame weighing down on the former queen, pressing vulnerable chitin down and taking her breath away. “You changed a part of me, Chrysalis, and that part has not been the same since,” hissed Cadance. “I don’t know how it happened. I’m doubting myself, I’m doubting the choices I made in life, I’m doubting my husband, all because you had to prey on me for your own sick reasons, and it doesn’t matter how I try to rationalize or therapize or medicate these thoughts away, they just stick to me, and as much as I know that this is probably just desperation talking, I feel like you are part of the solution.”
She moved her lips a half-inch from Chrysalis’s ear. “When you came up on my spymaster’s brief, living alone as a hermit, I had the report burned and sent out mercenaries to capture you, and now that you’re here I don’t quite know what to do with you. I’m still sure that this is exactly where I want you, tied up underneath me with all the chances in the world to think about what you’ve done, but the specifics are... fuzzy.”
Cadance dismounted, flicked a stray hair from her forehead, and took a sturdy riding crop from the frame. “I’m going to hurt you until that next step appears.”
Chrysalis opened her mouth to protest and squealed as the gag was again forced between her lips. She renewed her struggles as her captor circled her, wriggling away from the leather tip of the crop as it slid over her body. It came to rest on her right foreleg.
“Do you know what the worst part of all this is? I don’t think I’ll even feel better after this.”
The crop smashed down with all of Cadance’s weight behind it, hard enough that she felt the shock of the blow carry through the shell and flesh to vibrate in her bones. Her struggles intensified as her heart tried to crawl out through her throat, but Cadance lined up the next stroke as an upswing, hitting the same limb from below. Through tears and starbursts, Chrysalis could see the cracks forming in her forehoof.
She tried to block it out, tried to rationalize it away and tell herself that it wasn’t lethal, it wasn’t even disfiguring, but in her panicked and drugged-up state she could no more numb the pain than she could vaporize her bonds and free herself. Her captor’s unrelenting blows knocked away her attempts to meditate and retreat into herself, and only added a deeper strain of misery to the torture: the knowledge that a once-proud former queen was bawling from sensations that a nymph could suffer with no ill effects.
“It doesn’t matter, really, because it feels good in the moment,” spat Cadance, landing a stripe across her chest, “and if there’s one thing you’ve taught me, it’s that sometimes the moment is all you’ve got, Jade Goldwespe.”
Cadance did not relent. She attacked methodically, whipping a patch of carapace with heavy, measured strokes until the first cracks bloomed in the mottled surface, then moved to an untouched area until yet more cracks appeared, only returning to the damaged areas when the shock of the blooming pain had worn off. From time to time a piece of chitin would dislodge or jut out, and she would remove any shards that threatened to catch her crop or cut her prisoner’s underskin, but she made no effort to truly remove the outer shell. Any rhythm to Chrysalis’s screams had gone, the pain from the whipping was both unending and too intense to notice the peaks and valleys. She sobbed, moaned, and shrieked at intervals, but it did not line up with her captor’s attentions. Cadance tore off a piece of chitin running from her left backhoof to her knee, and she only coughed in response.
“That’s interesting,” said Cadance, discarding the chitin and looking at the raw, mottled-grey undershell that lay beneath, oozing magical ichor. “When you shed your chitin, it doesn’t shed around the holes in your leg, your cheese-holes disappear. It’s not even a hole, it’s like a tiny pool of illusion magic. I’ll have to tell Twilight about that, at some point.” She returned to the rack and replaced the riding crop. “No more Mister Crop, I’m afraid. It’s overkill for your actual skin, too thick and too heavy, a bit too easy to do something... permanent. I don’t think I want that, yet. I could pick a thinner one, but I feel like some variety. In fact” —a wry smile graced her lips— “I feel like doing something more relaxing.”
She pushed the implement rack away and walked out of Chrysalis’s view. A hum of magic pervaded the room, gears whirred and clicked, and Chrysalis felt the world shift underneath her. In her pain-addled state, she realized that her bonds were attached to an adjustable machine. Everything tilted backwards, bolts of pain shooting through her skin as the machine manipulated her limbs, and she felt a downward pull on her head. Her struggles had stopped. Even if she’d had the strength, the pain of movement would have discouraged her.
The machine had ceased clicking, and Chrysalis was still. She lay on her back with limbs restrained, but her head had been pulled backwards so that her face was parallel with the floor. Drool pooled in her upside-down mouth and ran out of the ring gag, down her face and into her eyes. Her tongue lolled and she attempted to swallow.
“Now, that’s perfect.”
It dawned on Chrysalis that her mouth was at the exact height of an alicorn’s rump.
She made a weak noise of protest as her captor’s sopping pussy pushed against her face. The wetness was incredible. Her mouth was a desert compared to the slick, musky juices that flowed from Cadance’s sex, and the warmth radiating from it cut through the biting cold of the cell. She tried to move her head but Cadance settled in, taking little steps backwards and flexing her legs and hindquarters until she was utterly secured. Pushing her face to either side just pressed against a toned set of thighs coated in sticky pink fur. She snarled, her whole mind a mess of indignity and spite, but Cadance paid her no attention, instead squeezing her legs inwards and putting uncomfortable pressure on her prisoner’s skull.
“You know what my favorite part of being royalty is?” came Cadance’s voice, muffled through her thighs. “You get the best seats to everything.”
Chrysalis stopped her struggles, and stayed as still as she could bear. She could only breathe through her nose, snorting as the juices ran down her face and tickled her nostrils, but at least she could rest her aching, abused body without threat of punishment. She tasted Cadance’s juices, tangy and light, with the barest hint of spice. They were just as she remembered, and if she had to admit it, not at all unpleasant. Still, she did not want to give her the satisfaction in any sense of the word, so she kept her tongue far back in her mouth.
She shrieked into Cadance’s slit as a dangling piece of chitin was torn from her.
“Now, I’m not expecting mind-blowing head, but I will feel your tongue on my pussy,” chided Cadance. She gripped another hanging segment of carapace in her magic, but did not pull. “Do both of us a favor and stick your tongue out.”
Chrysalis did nothing, simply going limp. She only gave a dull groan as more carapace was slowly pulled off. The pain had plateaued. Her captors depredations could not outweigh her own exhaustion and misery, and giving in to her demands seemed like a harder task than resisting them.
Cadance sighed, and lit her horn. “You always were a tease...”
Magical force plugged Chrysalis’s nostrils. Her nose was blocked and her mouth was being smothered. The tightness in her chest brought a burst of panic and desperation that the previous torments lacked. After a brief, painful struggle, she finally acquiesced, sticking out her tongue. Instantly, the flow of air returned. She breathed in, her whole torso crawling as it expanded with air, but did not remove her tongue from Cadance’s sex. Instead, she pushed her head forward to lick at it, long and lazy.
She heard Cadance exhale. “Oh, that’s just fine. Keep going, and there might be something in it for you...”
The oversized ring-gag and the strictness of her bondage stopped Chrysalis from any degree of finesse as she ate her captor’s cunt, so she did not try. She used the length of her tongue to her advantage, licking from the bottom to the clit, lapping up the copious juices that flowed out with every movement. Her licking lacked passion and enthusiasm, but given the lack of punishment and the happy sighs that came from her captor, it didn’t seem to matter.
She had infiltrated dozens of societies at their highest levels in her lifetime, could assume over two-hundred different disguises from memory, and had bedded sexual partners of every race, gender, and sexual inclination. She had gone down on more mares than she could count. Normally she considered herself an expert on giving head, but she was not used to doing so in such... strenuous circumstances.
Soon, a familiar rhythm crept into her ministrations. Without any real awareness of the fact, she began to treat her task as she had during countless seductions, infiltrations, and couplings. She truly tasted Cadance, lapping at the base of her pussy where the lips opened to welcome her, and warmth and wetness flowed out from within. Her licking switched and changed, giving attention from the lips to the clit to the hot, slick core. She responded to the coos and twitches from the alicorn above her, placing her tongue where she desired it most at any one time.
“Y-you’re not as rusty as I, ah, thought you’d be. You’ve got a long way to g-go, but I think you deserve a treat...”
Chrysalis heard magic, felt it, not the bland timbre of simple telekinesis but the rich force of a complex spell as it seeps from the aether. An invisible sheet fell from the air onto her body, washing away every last prickle of pain that she felt in a wave of catharsis. Nothing hurt. The ropes on her legs and chest felt like the softest silken scarves, and the hard bench that she lay on might as well have been a cloud bed.
She gave a moan of pure gratitude despite herself, and redoubled her efforts. Her captor’s legs were now twitching constantly, the spasms of her thighs a base beat for her pleasure. Chrysalis’s efforts were focused now, aiming to play Cadance’s sexual wants like she had done many times before. She couldn’t help it as old feelings of satisfaction crept in with every moan she raised from Cadance, every quiver of her rump and every tilt of her hips, every flick of the tail, every nicker, every muffled sigh and every embarrassed whinny. It was good to take pride in a job well done, after all.
Cadance spoke, her voice strained and breathless. “Celestia, this... this is really, really good, but I can take it from here. I’ve gotta grind to get off...”
Chrysalis protested weakly as Cadance cut off her breathing once more, not through magic but by pushing her whole rump down her face until her saliva-slicked clit smothered her nostrils. Cadance’s moans climbed in pitch and volume as she humped, finding as much stimulation from the contours of her captive’s face as she did from the oral attentions. Chrysalis fought to breathe, and her struggles to leave her nose uncovered only gave further pleasure to Cadance.
Cadance’s hips became a blur, her pert pink rump jiggling non-stop. She no longer made coherent moans, just odd squeaks and grunts as she bit her lips and scrunched her eyes closed, focused on nothing but her own approaching orgasm. Sweat dripped down her brow, and a thin sheen covered her sides and rump. Stopping would be unthinkable. She had to...
“Lick!” She magically amplified her voice, and it rattled through Chrysalis’s skull. “Lick now, you’ve got to, please!”
She obeyed.
Cadance’s whole body seized up as she came, every muscle tensed, biting her lip hard enough to taste blood. It hit her in waves, spasms running through her legs, rump and groin, rocking through the rest of her body, each one another flow of wetness into Chrysalis’s waiting mouth. Her front legs tottered and threatened to collapse underneath her, but all she could do was press further backwards against the body-wracking pleasure coming from her hindquarters.
Minutes later, Cadance stepped forward, her pussy leaving Chrysalis’s face with a noise like too much marmalade being smeared across a piece of bread. She tottered from side to side as if intoxicated, legs shaking and tail refusing to settle, as Chrysalis hacked and coughed.
“That,” gasped Cadance, “was a lot of fun. I’m sure we’ll be doing it again, don’t you agree?”
Chrysalis could only cough weakly in response. Her mechanical chair clicked and whirred once again, but she couldn’t muster the energy to panic, let alone resist. It lifted her into a more relaxed position, with her head elevated and her hindlegs low, like a slanted bed. The bindings on her neck and head fell away in a series of smart snaps, and a magical vapor lifted the ring gag from her mouth. Even though a padded rest supported her neck, her entire head throbbed from the strictness of the bondage it had endured.
She looked at Cadance, who was now sitting in front of her on a cheap plastic stool, with crossed legs and a carefree smile. Cadance’s legs still twitched every other second, and there was a lively glow to her cheeks. Chrysalis would have glared, but straightening her head sent shooting pains down her neck and her eyes burned as she tried to keep them open, so she closed her eyes and seethed quietly.
“Oh, I’m being a poor host. You must be parched, would you care for some water?”
Chrysalis’s throat was dry, and her tongue felt like sandpaper. “Please...”
She heard the crick of a bottle top unscrewing, and the plastic bottle was pressed to her lips. She guzzled the entire thing in seconds, cool water slipping down her throat. She was too weak to swallow the last remnants, which dribbled down her cheeks and chin.
Cadance smirked. “No need to thank me. In fact, I’ll be on my way. I should really freshen up before my next set of princessly duties commence, so... I’ll leave you to it.”
Something hot and bitter wrapped its way around Chrysalis’s gorge. “Weak...”
Cadance’s smirk only grew. “Oh?”
“You’re weak,” muttered Chrysalis, not turning her head to look at her captor nor opening her eyes. “My trespasses against you were purely political. After my defeat in Canterlot, a strong leader would have ignored me for my powerlessness, or assassinated me to send a message. To r-respond in the manner that you have, to be so consumed by your rage and insecurity that you would ignore your nation’s political customs, your rules of hospitality, your laws of justice, even your very moral commandments to grasp at such a brief and petty revenge... I almost pity what you have become.”
A chill ran through the air. Cadance stood still. Then, she inhaled sharply.
“I honestly,” she paused to swallow, “honestly, don’t know what’s worse. That you would call this revenge for the attack on Canterlot, or that you actually believe it. If I thought you feigning ignorance to taunt me, it would almost hurt less, you know? But you, Chrysalis-slash-Jade-Goldwespe, you’re sincere! You think this is about some third-rate monster attack, and not about what you did!”
She was already in Chrysalis’s face, stood next to the bondage device, close enough that her breath misted on Chrysalis’s cheeks. “Think, Chrysalis! Tap into your memory! Use your worthless brain to recall events that happened in a period of time previous to the one you are currently experiencing!” she snapped. “Think back to when I was a teenager in Cloudsdale and you were Jade Goldwespe. Think back to when I fell in love with you. Think back to gelatos next to the weather factories, to how we grew up through school together, to how you changed the entire direction of my life, Jade. Think about the whole week I cried after you left, how your letters carried me through university, how it still made my heart leap to hear from you long after I’d accepted that we weren’t meant to be. Think about how even after I knew that I loved my Shining and wanted to spend the rest of my life with him, there was always a tiny voice at the back of my head wondering if I was truly meant for you, instead. Then, once you’ve thought about all of those things, think about how you orchestrated every single one just so that when you showed up on my doorstep a decade later, I’d be easier to kidnap!”
Cadance stepped back, her face twisted up in rage and loathing. Tears ran down the corners of her eyes. “I sometimes feel like the old me is a different pony entirely, you know? I want her back, Chrysalis.” She closed her eyes and lit her horn. “You’ll want the old me back, too. I promise.”
Her horn flashed, and a strong weave of magic dissolved into strings of nothing. An itch ran across Chrysalis’s entire body, which turned to an uncomfortable prickle, and soon into white, fiery pain. Cadance had just disjoined the painkiller spell.
Chrysalis’s mind raced as she sped towards the heights of agony brought about by her half-shedded carapace and the extended beatings. The pain consumed her, but she could not think. She couldn’t even panic. Even as she opened her mouth, she could not think of anything to say. She just stared at Cadance, wide-eyed.
“I’ll see you later,” said Cadance. “Think about what I said.”
As the Princess began to leave, Chrysalis started to babble quietly. “Don’t do this. You don’t need to do this. Put the spell back on. Please. I need you to put the spell back on.”
The door shut behind Cadance. The words died in her mouth.
* * *
She’d been down here a week, now, surely.
The agony of the first session only receded after the drugs in her system wore off. When her own body began to flood with pain-numbing endorphins again, she cried with relief. She had no dignity to spare when Cadance next entered the cell, and begged pathetically, pleading not to be dosed again. Cadance released her from the bindings, and had her crawl over the cold stone floors to lick her hooves. Chrysalis was grateful for the opportunity.
Chrysalis wasn’t sure her submission was worth it. Though her captor was sometimes content to use her as a simple pleasure toy, it hadn’t quelled her appetite for sadism, and though the pain inducing drugs did not reappear, Cadance had plenty of unpleasant predicaments for her waiting captive. Like this current one.
She was alone in the cell once more. There were only two ties on her, the first a set of cuffs to keep her front hooves together in front of her, and the second a jacket to prevent her from spreading her wings. It would have been utterly tame, if not for the presence of an iron pole.
The iron pole ran straight upwards from the floor, with a thick rubber cock perched on the top. The cock was buried deep in Chrysalis’s vagina, and the pole was such a height that it forced her to stand on her hind legs like a minotaur, on the tips of her hooves. No other restraints held her, but it was enough. She was suspended in place by the dildo inside her, with no leverage to push herself upwards, and the faux-phallus too deep for her to move in any other direction.
Standing straight put terrible strain on her thighs and ankles, allowing herself to sag caused the cock to jab painfully deep inside her. There was no comfortable position for her upper body, only a choice of which joins and muscles she wished to torment at that given moment.
She had been placed in this position at breakfast. Cadance had set everything up in less than two minutes, still munching a croissant from the palace dining hall. As soon as Chrysalis was in place, she turned out the lights and left.
Cadance returned before lunch to find her whimpering in pain, slouching backwards and forwards in a vain attempt to find the least-bad position. “Wow,” she had said, “that must be a horrible strain on your back. Here, I’ll help you with it.”
She’d then tied a rope around Chrysalis’s neck, just loose enough not to strangle her, and strung it over the rafters directly above until Chrysalis’s back was perfectly straight. After that, she’d backed away to marvel at her invention. The dildo was high enough to hurt, but not high enough to loosen the neck rope’s strain, and the neck rope was tight enough to be uncomfortable, but not high enough to pull her off the dildo. Two opposing sources of pain, placed at the perfect position as to not cancel each other out. After appreciating Chrysalis’s twitches and strained whimpers for a minute or so, she left again, leaving Chrysalis in total darkness.
An interminable time later, Cadance returned for the second time.
She wore a baseball cap with sunglasses perched on top, and carried a half-full latte in a cardboard cup. She smelled of light perfume, but no sweat or deodorant. Chrysalis knew what this meant by now. She had been visiting the district councils.
“Sorry for the wait, Chrysalis, I was visiting the district councils,” said Cadance, before taking a long drink of her latte. “You’re looking great. I mean it! I thought you’d be unconscious by now. It’s an enchanted rope, by the by, its very existence depends on you being awake, so if you’d passed out you wouldn’t have choked to death. You do look good, though. We’ve got all your old carapace off—” she traced a hoof over her captive’s dark purple skin “—and your new one is coming through nicely. I never thought I’d see a softshell changeling queen, but here we are!”
Chrysalis whined softly in response, unable to think of any words worth the pain it caused to speak them.
“I’m sorry about today,” continued Cadance, “I didn’t know what I wanted to do today, with you, so I just rustled something up this morning and waited until I’d made a choice. I thought that would take like, an hour tops, but a bunch of royal business came up, I lost track of time, and you kinda got left here. Again, I’m sorry. It’s bad form to be so disorganized.”
A telekinetic field wrapped around Chrysalis’s body, supporting her in place. The rope around her neck uncoiled, the dildo inside her slid out with a squelch, and the telekinetic force lowered her gently to the floor. She looked up to see Cadance smiling down at her.
“I’ve come up with a game we can play,” said Cadance, “and there’s a prize if you win. I’m going to fuck you with this—” she turned, and displayed a massive strap-on cock between her haunches, considerably thicker and bumpier than the one Chrysalis had just been mounted on, “—and if I can’t make you climax within fifteen minutes, I’ll let you go free. No questions asked, a full pardon for any deeds committed against—”
“No.”
Cadance closed her mouth with a snap. Then, she grinned. Chrysalis hadn’t openly defied her for days, now. “Pardon me?”
“I said no.” Chrysalis lay on her back and stared at the ceiling. “I don’t want your deal or your game. Eat your freedom.”
“I don’t see that you have much choice in the matter,” said Cadance, though her grin lessened somewhat.
Chrysalis shifted, spreading her legs wide, inviting her in. She stared blankly at Cadance. “Take it, if you want it. Come and play with your toy. Make it cry from pain or moan with pleasure, whatever, I won’t fight for freedom, or anything else. Enjoy winding up your doll.”
With a shrug, Cadance swaggered over to her captive, her hooves clicking on the stone. She stood over her and lowered herself, pinning Chrysalis’s forelegs with her own and keeping her hind legs spread wide with magic, lifting the changeling queen’s rump until the tip of the strap-on lined up with. A spell coalesced in a spark of pink and caramel, covering the dildo with a sheen of lubrication.
“Well, if you say so,” said Cadance, pushing her hips forward.
The flared head of the dildo pressed against her lower lips, pushing them inwards before spreading them wide enough to pass through. Chrysalis hissed in pain as Cadance sighed with pleasure. The plastic cock was enchanted to feel like the real thing for Cadance, and the sensation of her prisoner’s too-tight cunt gripping the first few inches was simply luxurious.
“Mmmnnph...” Cadance rubbed her cheek into the crook of her captive’s neck. “You feel wonderful. Isn’t this just like old times, Jade?”
Chrysalis grunted in response, gritting her teeth. The weight of the alicorn bearing down on her was uncomfortable, and the girth of the sex toy was even worse. Every movement of the plastic cock sent sharp, stinging sensations shooting through her insides, but the pain wasn’t as unpleasant as the sheer discomfort of it. The toy wasn’t even halfway inside and she felt horribly full, the same feeling of miserable discontent and bloatedness as drinking a gallon of water while fever-stricken. The prickling heat of the room, the weight above her, and the sadistic choice of toy created a cloying, claustrophobic sensation that clawed at her entire being.
She yelped in pain as Cadance flicked her hips forward, driving the cock in as far as it would go. The wet kisses on her neck made her skin crawl, but she was too dejected to even feign resistance, and instead lifted her legs even wider. Her captor’s hips drew back, and even this was unpleasant; her pussy itched uncomfortably as the cock pulled out.
Cadance sunk back inside again, held it deep for a moment, and pulled out. She thrust again, but there was no pause, settling into a quick rhythm of pulling the oversized dick all the way out before slamming it back in. Chrysalis began to cry softly.
A drip of sweat fell from Cadance’s brow and landed on her captive’s cheek. “Wow, okay, now I know why Shining likes this so much,” she said, breathing hard. “There’s some stuff I’ve wanted to try for ages...”
Cadance spent the next half hour enjoying herself in a variety of ways with no thought to Chrysalis’s comfort or pleasure. She rammed the captive changeling at a jackhammer pace until a series of orgasms wracked her body. She rolled Chrysalis onto her stomach, biting her mane for grip while fucking her even-tighter pussy from behind. She forced her to contort into a variety of amusing positions, made her lick up the patches of sweat and pussy-juice that had pooled on the floors, and made her lick her own juices off the plastic cock.
Chrysalis fought the urge to puke as Cadance pushed her mouth down onto the dildo, the girth making her cheeks bulge out and forcing spit to run from her lips. Cadance’s forehooves rested on the back of her captive’s head, and her hips twitched upwards as she climaxed once more with her strapon deep in Chrysalis’s mouth.
Chrysalis fell to the floor, hacking and coughing as she was released. Cadance just giggled. “Be glad I’m not a real stallion,” she said, “or that would have been much messier.”
She stood up and conjured up a foam mat for the stone dungeon floor, which she sat down on. Telekinetically turning Chrysalis’s head to face her, she beckoned her over.
“I know what I want next,” she said, the smirk of a winning tennis player gracing her lips, “I’d like you to ride me, cowfilly style. Or, if you’re not comfortable with that, I’ll punish you for disobeying. Whichever you’d prefer, honestly.”
Chrysalis sat up to her haunches, shuddering as cramps wracked her belly. She had no will to resist, yet took her time in moving across the room, shuffling and crawling rather than standing and walking. Her body was still exhausted from being suspended on the pole all day, and the rutting had used up what little energy remained. By the time her hoof had touched the mat, Cadance had grown bored, and lifted her bodily in her magic before placing the former queen on top of her. After some wriggling and fidgeting, she lined up the phallus with her prisoner’s pussy once again, and pushed inside.
Chrysalis cringed as if she’d bit into a lemon. The sensation of being pushed open by a too-thick cock didn’t feel any better from on top. She tried to control her descent down the shaft, but her legs were jelly and she couldn’t fight gravity as she slipped downwards. It settled deep in her midsection. Her whole body burned with fatigue, inside and out. Cadance lay beneath her, smirking. She refused to meet her captor’s eyes.
Cadance bucked her hips the moment the cock bottomed out, making Chrysalis squeal in pain as she bounced upwards, a look of pure misery on her face as she slid back down. With a resentful whimper she rolled her hips up as she reached the bottom a second time, lessening the force of Cadance’s next thrust, and quickly working up to an awkward rhythm as she rode her captor.
“Yeah, that’s better,” whispered Cadance, relishing in the sensations from her enchanted strap-on. “You having fun up there, Jade?”
“No,” said Chrysalis, tonelessly, as she forced herself to move.
Cadance slapped her rump, making her hiss in pain. “Aww, come on, live a little! You’re being such a foal about this, honestly. You haven’t even been my prisoner for as long as I was your prisoner, Miss Let’s-All-Invade-Canterlot-Together.”
“I never tortured you.”
“You locked me underground with a piece of stale bread and a dog bowl of water every day,” snapped Cadance, grabbing Chrysalis’s hips and thrusting hard, “and you came down to taunt me, and tell me that you were mind-screwing my fiance.”
Tears ran down Chrysalis’s face, but she couldn’t cry. “N-nothing but politics. I needed you weak, to delay you in c-case of escape.”
Cadance grinned viciously. “Didn’t work so well, did it?”
“I overestimated you. I thought you’d exhaust yourself trying to find a way out. I didn’t expect y-you to give up and wait for rescue,” she hissed. “You’re twisted. Every supposed crime I committed against you was a duty inherent to my office. Why are you doing any of this? You have no need, it helps nothing, you’re nothing but a cat playing with its meal! My crimes pale next to yours!”
Cadance’s face twisted in anger. She grabbed Chrysalis and rolled to the side, the dildo slipping free with a noise like a hoof being pulled from a mud puddle, and pinned her to the floor. “You—you callous, betraying, bitch! You changed my whole life to turn me into a pawn for your coup. You pretended to love me, seduced me, made me love you. You hurt my fiance and turned my friends against each other. And you... got inside my head!”
“I did no such thing,” spat Chrysalis, her face defiant once more. “I could only spare the power to mesmerize your husband, and a gaggle of meddling bridesmaids.”
“That’s not what I meant!” screamed Cadance. “You pretended to be somepony I loved just so you could betray me later, your changeling goons impersonated Gaia-knows how many ponies in Canterlot, and you could have been anypony! I haven’t known who to trust since the wedding! I woke up screaming from the same nightmare for three months. You know what it was? That Shining Armor was a changeling too!”
Chrysalis sneered. “Maybe he is.”
Red fell down over Cadance’s eyes. Her hooves fell onto the figure below her, and rose only to fall again. She rained down blows, flowing into each other, throwing each one forward with all her force yet still moving smoothly into the next. Hooves came up red, and wet.
A nasty crack sounded out.
Cadance stopped.
“Oh.”
A changeling’s torso wasn’t supposed to look like that.
“Oh no.”
Neither was a changeling’s face.
“No. Oh no. No, no, no, no no no no no—”
The changeling had seconds of blood left in her.
Cadance never froze in a crisis. She wouldn’t start now. Spells flared to life, healing, stasis, half-remembered tricks of arcana, odd trills of raw magic that just felt right for the moment.
“No please no Jade no, I screwed up please don’t I fucked up I don’t know why I did please Jade please don’t die I’m begging no no please no—”
Somehow, Chrysalis knew she would be all right.
* * *
Behind the Cloudsdale weather factory, two teenaged lovers sat on a cumulus hill, watching the sunset. The western horizon was a smear of pink and blue, and the last slice of the sun backlit the cloud city in a fringe of gold. The humid summer air wouldn’t cool for hours yet, making every breeze welcome.
Both mares sat on a checkered picnic blanket. They had sat there long enough that their weight had pushed down a pocket of cloud underneath them, creating a tiny depression for the pair to fall against each other. Neither one of them had noticed, wings and legs wrapped around each other as they were.
On the left of the blanket laid a lime pegasus, her spiky, mint mane just long enough to fall across her oversized spectacles. Her cheeks bulged out like halves of a green apple, a mischievous, almost manic grin never far from her face, and even as she snuggled her girlfriend on a warm summer evening, she buzzed with an ever-present drive. Most everyone who knew her called her Goldwespe, or “Miss Goldwespe-Please,” her insistence on her second-name a long-running joke for everypony at the Cloudsdale Academy. The only pony allowed to call her Jade was her lover.
To the right was a rarer sight, a young alicorn. Her bubblegum-pink limbs were lanky, an unfinished growth spurt, but her wings dwarfed everything else, comically oversized compared to the rest of her body. Her lush mane flowed across the blanket as she nuzzled her Jade. Though her eyes were closed, a serene smile played over her lips, her mouth just open enough to let the last of the day’s light glint off her braces. Her name was Cadance. Princess Cadance, as of late.
Cadance knew when Jade felt restless. She usually knew before Jade did. “There’s still two more days,” she whispered.
Jade closed her mouth. She had a few tics—she rarely blinked, and buzzed her tongue whenever she was concentrating hard—and she always opened her mouth before she knew she was going to say something. She grinned, and opened her mouth again. Then, she said, “We’ve got a whole lot to do.”
“We can pack a lot into two days.”
“As much as we can, Cadie.”
They were quiet, for a moment, as a breeze swept across them. It brought the smell of ozone and broom flowers. Cadance shifted her foreleg, wrapped around Jade, as if to reassure herself it was still there.
“I’d wait for you,” she said. “You know I’d wait for you, right?”
Jade chuckled softly. “Yeah, I know you’d wait for me,” she replied, turning to plant kisses on her lover’s cheek, “and I’d wait for you. We’d wait for each other, and we would, I mean I know couples who say they’d wait but you know it wouldn’t last but for us it would. We’d wait as long as it took, and that’s the whole problem.”
Cadance kissed back, and looked up into Jade’s eyes. “Yeah?”
“I don’t want to make you wait, Cadance. I’ll be on the other side of the world, with my family. Travelling back to Equestria for a week costs as much as a year’s wages flipping hayburgers. I might not get back to the same continent for five years, and if we do visit, that’s what, we’ll see each other for two months over ten years? With what my dad’s doing, it could be a decade before I live here again, easy.”
“You think we wouldn’t love each other after all that time?”
“I think we’d be different ponies,” said Jade, eyes cast downwards. “How different were we, like, four years ago?”
Cadance giggled. “I didn’t know you four years ago.”
“Pfft, you know what I mean. We’ll both still be awesome, I know that, but different awesome. I know we’d be friends. I don’t know that we’d be lovers.”
“And if we still loved each other?” Cadance’s smile was playful, not wan. They had been wan the first time they’d had this talk. Now it was a private game, an in-joke, nostalgia for a past that hadn’t yet finished.
“Not saying we won’t, but Cadie, love is something you do, something you share. It’s not supposed to be bottled up and rationed out in three-day visits and letters with triple-digit postage fees, especially not your love. Your love is too good, too pure, too.. you, for you to spend that many years pining.”
“Okay, now you’re stealing things I said the last time we had this talk,” giggled Cadance.
“Yeah, well, they fit you better than they do me, trust me,” said Jade, sticking her tongue out. “Now, I don’t know anypony else who is as cool as me, as witty as me, and as good at sex as me. I’m naturally blessed, and well, Cloudsdale is a smaller community than you’d think. But you know what? If anypony can find that person, it’s you.”
“And if I get married?” Now, Cadance was grinning.
Jade grinned back, wider than ever, and kissed her on the lips. “I’ll be at the wedding.”
Cadance hugged Jade, still grinning, and the tears rolling down her cheek weren’t nearly as sad as they should have been.
“Besides, are you honestly gonna spend a decade without trying dick at some point?”
“JADE!” Cadance gasped in mock-horror, and tackled her lover. They wrestled and kissed and groped each other on the picnic blanket on the hill until the sun dipped below the horizon, and they made love through the night.
Two more days was all the time in the world.
* * *
Her eyes were open.
Dim sunlight shining through a glazed window, dappled by the pattern of raindrops on the bed. A bed, thick duvets, blindingly-white cotton. Jasmine-scented fabric conditioner. She didn’t know how long she had been asleep for.
Chrysalis sat up, and the world lurched. She felt weak, lightheaded, the same floppy-limbed exhaustion that came after a fever. Aches twinged through all of her joints. Groaning, she tested her bonds.
There were none.
No cuffs, no chains, no ropes were apparent on any of her limbs. She could feel no collar on her neck, no casing on her wings, no gag in her mouth. She only felt... tired. A glass of water sat on the bedside table next to her. She picked it up in two hooves, lifted it shakily to her muzzle, and drained it.
She shuffled out of bed, desperate to move freely for what felt like the first time in months. She collapsed, sprawling out over the carpet. Not stone, carpet, soft, thick carpet. For a moment she stayed still, face-down on the floor, catching her breath. Slowly, she got to her haunches, and looked around.
The room was part of a castle. Stone walls, crystal lamps, a mullion window set in a thick wall. A guest room of some description. An oak bookshelf, half-filled with paperbacks. A single bed. A chest of drawers with a built-in vanity mirror. A well-furnished writing desk.
A door.
She braced herself and staggered to her hooves again, each movement still shaky and unsure, and took a few ginger steps forward. A reflection in the vanity mirror caught her eye. She turned her head.
Chrysalis stared at the mirror, and Jade Goldwespe stared back.
She looked down at her legs. Lime green, covered in fur. She put a hoof to her head and felt nothing there, except a curly, decidedly-non-changeling mane. An exhausted chill shot through her back as she ruffled her wings, which were covered in feathers. All of it had physical form, not a shimmer of illusion in sight.
Unusual, she thought, but not altogether unexpected. Her temporary lack of magic might make breaking out difficult, however. She turned, carefully, ready to test the lock on the door.
The door was built of thick, varnished hardwood, reinforced with iron bands, an iron door handle, and an iron lock fit for a chunky key. Too heavy to batter down, at least in her current state, and the sheer amount of iron would make any use of changeling magic deeply unpleasant, to say the least. Still, it was not a complex lock. If she could fashion the tools, she could pick it.
She placed her hoof on the door and turned the handle, testing the slack in the latch and lock. Lots of slack. She gave it an experimental tug. The door swung open.
Unlocked.
Peering out the door, she saw a hallway. Antique pieces of armor hung on the walls. Antique weapons hung along the hallway. Giant double doors at either end, wide open, one leading to a dining room, the other to a gallery of some sort.
A maid walked out of one of the rooms and saw Chrysalis before she could duck back out of sight. Chrysalis froze, her hearts quivering inside her.
“Good day, ma’am.” The maid gave an impression of curtsy, and walked past. Chrysalis stood there, and blinked.
Unlocked. Unchained. Unbound.
Free.
She took half a dozen steps down the hall before she stopped. Her limbs could barely support her. She’d struggle to reach the set of double doors without crawling along on her belly, let alone escape the castle with enough strength to survive in the wilderness. She needed rest, desperately, and the only way to get it was to go back to where her captor had left her.
Chrysalis made sure to take an antique dagger from beside a suit of armor before she did, though.
She returned to her bed, and pulled the covers over her. She hid the dagger down the side of the bed, between the mattress and the bed frame, in easy reach. Better than nothing. To her side, she saw the cup on the bedside table. Full again, fresh, cold water. Enchanted. After a few sips, she lay back and began to rest once more.
Some time later came a knock at the door.
After half a minute of absolute silence, another knock.
Chrysalis was still.
“Can I come in?” The voice was muffled through the thick door, but unmistakable. “It’s me, Cadance. I wanted to check on you, if that’s okay.”
Silence.
A cleared throat. “If you don’t, that’s okay too. I’ve got some food, and some documents. You’re... you’re probably asleep, and I’m just talking to a door. Hah.”
Chrysalis inched closer to the dagger at her side.
“I’m being silly. I can’t leave these documents unattended, royal seal and all, but I’m just going to leave the food outside your door and slip a note under—”
“Just come in,” croaked Chrysalis. She immediately regretted it, but couldn’t bring herself to take it back.
A brief silence, followed by the sound of paper and cardboard being scooped up together, and the door opened.
Princess Cadance walked in, dressed in all the accoutrements of her office, carrying half a dozen items in her magical grasp. “Hi! I’ve got food for you, I asked one of the defectors what changelings eat apart from love, we couldn’t get any glowbug worms but she said rice and beans would work in a pinch,” she said in a single breath, shooting Chrysalis a weak smile before spreading her items out on the desk. “I should have brought it in on a tray, it’s better if you stay in bed and save your energy, I think there’s a spare one in one of these desk drawers.”
Chrysalis said nothing, her whole body tense as the princess busied herself under the desk.
“Got it,” she said, triumphant, placing the bowl of food on a tray and levitating it to the base of the bed. “If there’s anything else you’d prefer, just mention it to one of the nurses or maids, I heard protein was important but if you have other dietary needs you can say.”
She stared ahead for a moment, as if her next words had fell from her mind. Though her mane and makeup were perfect, her eyes looked glassy and she stood with a kind of weighted slouch. “The uh... the papers,” she said, fanning out a procession of letters and documents in her magic. She looked at Chrysalis, but would not meet her eyes. “Notice of diplomatic protection, permanent visas for both Equestria and the Crystal Empire, identity documents for a pony alias of your choice, diplomatic pardons for crimes against the Equestrian Crown in your previous role as a national leader, government vouchers for lodging and transport should you wish to stay in the Crystal Empire for a duration, and a portion of my stipend. That, ah, about covers it.”
She shuffled the papers into a stack and placed them on the table next to Chrysalis. “You’re free to leave, at any time you wish. The palace doctor strongly recommended that you rest up, first. Also, be sure to return the dagger to the wall before you leave.”
“Dagger?” Chrysalis spoke through clenched teeth.
Cadance grinned nervously, and still couldn’t meet her eyes. “The one you, ah, took from the wall outside. The head maid would have a panic attack if she thought it had gone missing.”
Chrysalis exhaled, the fear and tension draining from her limbs and leaving nothing but exhaustion in their place. She pulled the dagger from its hiding place, passing it from hoof to hoof, glancing at Cadance as she did. The alicorn showed no signs of fear, just the same uncomfortable expression she had borne since she walked in.
Her captor, her enemy, her... defiler stood in front of her, guard down, unwary. One cut. Her body was weak, but one good cut, one lunge with all her strength, freedom and vengeance in easy reach.
Chrysalis snarled in frustration and threw the dagger at the bookshelf. With clean technique, the dagger struck the wood point-first. It snapped into three pieces on contact, which went flying across the room. One piece lightly struck Cadance on the leg, before tinking onto the floor.
They pointedly avoided each other’s gaze.
“Um.” Cadance broke the silence, and cleared her throat awkwardly. “To be honest... I think the castle blacksmith seems bored, lately. She’d appreciate the chance to hone her blade-crafting skills, probably.”
“Why are you here.”
Chrysalis sat up straight, glaring at her former captor with all the venom she could muster. If she’d had fangs at that moment, she would have clicked them.
Cadance shut her mouth, and looked down.
“Because I did something terrible.”
She sat on her haunches, her whole body drooping as all her shame weighed on her at once. “I kidnapped you. I tortured and raped you. I... I let what you’d done to me control me, I obsessed over it, it clung to everything I thought and did until I was sure, so sure that only vengeance could heal me, that the nightmares and the aches and the claws at my heart would only stop once I’d made you see, once I’d made you feel the pain I’d felt. I broke the laws I am sworn to uphold, I lied to my husband, I took my wounds and let them destroy me.”
She broke down crying as Chrysalis watched impassively. “A-and then I n-nearly killed you,” sobbed Cadance. “I had loved you! There were days when I thought I might have loved you more than I love Shining a-a-and that j-just...” She trailed off, still crying.
With a grunt, Chrysalis sat up, collected her tray of food, and ate a forkful of coriander-spiced beans and rice. “And?”
Cadance looked up at her, red-eyed, giggling nervously. “What do I do now? I betrayed everything I thought I stood for, as a ruler, an ideal, and a pony, and it was for nothing. How do you live your life after a failure like that?”
Chrysalis laughed with several forkfuls worth of food in her mouth, nearly choking on a pinto bean. “To chase a goal with feverish intensity, believing it to be the only thing that can help you, only to reach your goal and see it defeat you? Yes,” she chuckled, “I have an inkling of how that would feel. You’re in good company.”
“Hah.” Cadance smiled weakly. Chrysalis hadn’t seen that smile in years.
“You—” she paused to swallow another mouthful of rice, “—compressed the whole experience into just over a year rather than dragging it out for a decade and a half like I did. I applaud your efficiency.”
“That’s an... interesting perspective. How did you deal with it?”
“A metamorphosis of sorts.”
Cadance raised her eyebrows. “...Metaphorically speaking, or...?”
“Hehe, a little of both. I am no longer a queen. I am a solitary changeling, a cuckoo wasp. In equine terms, I abdicated after the failed assault. My best alternative would involve being assassinated by an underling, followed by a bitter succession crisis. Had I lived and stayed, I would have sparked a civil war that would kill half of my changelings in the combat, and half again from the privation that followed. Of course, being a changeling, the process becomes... physiological. Since I named my successor and left, I have become—” she paused, and stopped eating for the first moment since she’d picked up the bowl. “I am less of them, and more of me. Their thoughts are no longer mine. It is different.”
Cadance looked thoughtful. “Our defector said as much. They said that you and the hive had ‘corrupted’ each other.”
Chrysalis burst out laughing. “Kowyehaan.”
“Pardon?”
“Kowyehaan, your defector. Sap Eater, or Song Of The Bare Tree, or Tsztz—” she snorted derisively at the name “—if she’s showboating. Which of those names do you know her by?”
For the first time in the conversation, Cadance was taken aback. “You know I couldn’t confirm—”
“You’ve been a politician for years and you have the exact same tells as you did at Cloudsdale Academy,” said Chrysalis, simply. “You asked her what changelings eat, and she gave you this recipe. There’s coriander powder in it.”
“You don’t like coriander?”
“In my natural form, coriander is tasteless and odorless, but produces a range of... embarrassing symptoms. As I am now,” she waved her hoof to gesture to her decidedly equine body, “it tastes rather nice. Kowyehaan would consider this a prank, or a test, or both. She said that her cadre of changelings had left because they could not stomach the brutal nature of hive life, and wanted to end the enmity between changelings and the surface races, yes?”
Cadance levelled a stare. “The defector mentioned something like that, yes.”
“It’s not an untruthful statement,” said Chrysalis, drawing out every word, “but her timing is fortunate, isn’t it? She comes to you, hat in hoof, offering the services of a battalion's worth of changelings, shortly after every politician, businessmare, and general in Equestria catches a glimpse of the power, abilities, and size of the changeling race. You ponies would call that ‘excellent marketing,’ would you not? Why, if it had happened a second sooner, you might have even called it premeditated...”
Cadance opened her mouth, and then shut it. Then, she said, “Okay, before I ask anything else, I have to know what exactly ‘embarrassing symptoms’ means for changelings.”
“Hiccups.”
“Hiccups?”
“Yes.”
“Just hiccups?”
“We rattle.” She sniffed, and ate the last of the rice. “But it matters not. For the next several weeks I will remain in this form, and I can indulge in equine cuisine to my hearts’ content.”
Cadance sat up a little straighter. “I was wondering about that. After I tried to, uh...”
“Murder me?”
“Yes, after that, I panicked and cast every bit of healing magic I could muster. As soon as the magelight faded, you’d turned back into Jade. You’ve stayed that way ever since, and the doctor said she couldn’t tell you apart, medically, from any other pegasus. How did that happen?”
Chrysalis smirked. “You tell me.”
“...I don’t follow.”
“It’s a changeling defensive mechanism, part biology and part reflex. If we’re severely injured around any being we draw love from, we use the fear and love radiating off them to remain in their favored form, and so a simple knock to the head will not blow our cover. The more skilled the infiltrator and stronger the love, the more complete the transformation will become. I did not choose this aspect. You did.”
Cadance stared directly forward at nothing. “Heavens above, I’m a mess.”
“Hm.” Chrysalis wore a conflicted expression, “It would be satisfying to place this entirely at your hooves, but...” She sighed, and leaned back against her pillows. Since she’d eaten, her aches were beginning to subside. “I’m not sure if I should even mention it.”
“What is it?” Cadance’s head whipped back to look at her, “I mean, if you... After what happened I honestly understand if you aren’t comfortable—”
“No, it’s not a thing worth hiding,” said Chrysalis, waving her off with her hoof. “We... changeling relations and emotions are a subtle thing, and pony feelings do not map perfectly onto it, not even close. We consider several things that you call ‘emotions’ to be food, though to us, we might consider food a kind of emotion. There is no single changeling concept for what ponies think of as ‘love.’ Filial duty, brood attachment, awe, respect, dedication, longing, we would recognize these components that you call a part of ‘love,’ but we do not experience love as a whole thing except as nourishment.”
Chrysalis sighed, and angled her head just-so to look at Cadance. “Your magic healed mortal wounds as I was mid-transformation. Any pony, any thing trying to push magic through me at that point should have been utterly unable to heal me without disrupting the transformation, which would have spread me across the room. If any normal mage, if any normal changeling had tried what you tried, I wouldn’t have left that dungeon in anything but a mop bucket.
“But there’s a loophole. If my magic trusts another magic, if it recognizes it as kin, if it feels... bonded to the caster, like I would feel for any member of my hive, it lets it in. My magic can then take yours and direct it, melding healing and transformation seamlessly without disrupting either.” She held her gaze, her tense expression softening.
Cadance blinked. “Are you saying—”
“I don’t know. I don’t know, exactly, if you’re a friend, or if you’re a rival, if you’re a lover, or an arch-nemesis.” She swallowed. “What I know is that you’re not an enemy and you’re not prey, or I’d be dead.”
“I...” Cadance trailed off. “I don’t know what to say.”
“The feeling is mutual.”
They held their silence for some time, equal parts wary and contemplative. The morning’s rain had stopped minutes ago, and sunlight shone into the room, divided into neat squares by the window mullions. The weight of the room was no longer so oppressive.
“There’s a side dish, if you’re still hungry.” The words flurried from Cadance’s mouth with such speed that it took Chrysalis several seconds to understand her.
“Oh.” She reached down to the tray and moved a napkin, uncovering a small ceramic box. “Spring rolls!” It took less than a second for her to lift one to her mouth, crunching through the fresh bean sprouts, alfalfa, and ginger. After wolfing down the first, she looked at Cadance. “So. What are you going to do now?”
Cadance wore a wan smile, but there was drive behind it. “I’m going to turn myself in.”
“You’ll what now?”
“I am going to give a press conference announcing my roles in the crimes of kidnapping, grievous bodily harm, sexual assault, obstruction of justice, neglect of essential duties of office, misuse of government funding to further a kidnapping, harboring a known fugitive, not disclosing dungeon space for the purpose of stamp duty, and practicing medical magic without a license. I will present the ponies of the Crystal Empire with evidence of these crimes, and then I will turn myself over to the magistrates for judgement.”
Chrysalis looked as if she’d been stung on the nose. “You’ll what now?”
Cadance was solemn. “I don’t know if my crimes are forgivable, but they are countable, and I must account for them. I must atone, and the courts will see that I do.”
“That is the worst combination of sounds I have ever heard come out of a mouth that didn’t include the words ‘flange’ or ‘seepage,’ and I beg you not to repeat them in my presence again.”
Neither Cadance’s expression nor tone changed. “And what alternative? I can’t be allowed to get away with what I did.”
“Can you be allowed to take your victim’s preferences into account?” asked Chrysalis, acidly.
“In legal proceedings, Trotholm Syndrome—”
“You dare,” spat Chrysalis. “You dare call me mentally compromised while you prepare to toy with my life in an indulgent act of self-abnegation? Your abdication would turn me into a political hoofball. I would no longer be the monster that attacked Canterlot, I would be the monster that had hardened the heart of a princess, the monster that had corrupted love itself. Your citizens might imprison you for your crimes but they would not blame you, they would blame me.
“I doubt it would even get that far. Your ponies would redefine justice itself to call your acts justified, or they would imply you were entirely innocent of all crimes and that I had merely mesmerized Equestrian leadership once more, perhaps with a spell so powerful that only my death could break it. And what of my people, hm? If you turn yourself in, ponies will learn that even a single changeling can corrupt the incorruptible. How many changelings would you see hunted down and executed to assuage your sense of guilt?”
Chrysalis shut her mouth, breathing hard through her nostrils. She had sat straight up in bed as she was ranting, and her aches flowed back to remind her of her fatigue. With a huff, she lay back down against her pile of pillows, awaiting a response.
Cadance did not look taken aback, angry, or even guilty. She simply looked thoughtful. “You’re right.”
“Yes, that is correct.”
“I should not try to mend harm by causing further harm.”
“Yes, that is correct.”
“I cannot atone for my trespasses against you if doing so will trespass against you further.”
“Yes,” sighed Chrysalis, “that is correct.”
Cadance looked directly at her. “So where do we go from here? I kidnapped you, tortured you, and nearly killed you. You seduced me, betrayed me, drugged my husband and launched a coup. Even if we could forgive each other, I don’t think we’d ever forget.”
“No, I don’t think we would. But I don’t know if we need to forgive each other.” Chrysalis shifted onto her side to look back at her. “You know what it’s like to do immoral things for power and satisfaction, to justify them as the only way to feel secure. I have long known what it is like to let my wounds twist me. I’ll never approve of what you did to me, Cadance, but I can understand it. Forgiveness is a lofty goal. I’ll settle for ‘mutual recognition of our sins.’”
“That’s... surprisingly wise, from the person who tried to seize Canterlot by force.”
Chrysalis scoffed. “I misunderstood the nature of Equestrian magic, and the intensity of the resistance. Had we been successful, and you ponies less mulish, my race would have enjoyed an unparalleled rise in their standard of living at only a small detriment to the Equestrian lifestyle.”
“You were going to give us a military junta and indefinitely imprison anypony who stood against you!”
“A small detriment! Relatively speaking.”
“I think we’ll have to agree to disagree on that,” said Cadance, flatly.
Chrysalis winked. “You’re already getting the hang of it.”
Cadance gave a small chuckle, and then once again was lost in thought. “If you were in my horseshoes, how would you make up for what I did?”
“I’d do two things. Perhaps more.”
“I see.”
Chrysalis smirked at her.
“And those two things are?”
“First, you should call that press conference,” said Chrysalis. “Use it to announce the surrender of the changeling queen.”
Cadance raised an eyebrow. “I... see?”
“Treat me as a captured general. Allow your changeling defectors to denounce me, raising their trust in the eyes of Equestria. Offer me a freedom and comfort for information. Use my presence to reach out to the independent hives,” said Chrysalis, her eyes glinting with ambition. “Truce and trade would benefit changelings almost as much as conquering would, and I don’t have to fight any alicorns this way.”
“That could work. My advisors might even approve of it.”
“Splendid. Take your time, there’s no need to rush it, not with the papers you’ve given me. I’ll be close enough to get in touch... and I’ll probably still be Jade for another six weeks.”
“That sounds good. What was the other thing?”
Chrysalis grinned like a shark. “Lick me out.”
Cadance blinked. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. You’re even blushing.”
“I mean I heard, but are—are you sure it’s a good idea after—”
“You feel bad for hurting me? Kiss it better,” she said. “On my pussy,” she added, “with your tongue.”
“...Seriously?”
“Hey,” Chrysalis paused her speech as she sat up and turned her bed into a flurry of sheets and pillows. Soon, she was sat back against a semi-circle of duvets and pillows, with her hind-legs spread, and her hind-hooves hanging off the side of the bed. She looked up and down her body, and then cocked her head at Cadance. “If you want me to get over what you did to me, I’d like to see you in a non-threatening way. I think you’ll look very non-threatening on your knees, between my legs, with your face buried in my snatch.”
Cadance stood up, turned around, and drew the curtains. She turned back to face Chrysalis. “That’s what you want? A grand diplomatic initiative, and head from your ex?”
“It’s a start. You don’t feel bad for Shiny, do you?” she drawled, mockingly.
“Why would I? I’ve always had my bridesmaids, he’s always had his Flash, we’ve never been the jealous types...” Cadance took a few steps closer, her gold-trimmed shoes pressing into the carpet, swaying her hips as she walked. “Is this a one-off thing?”
“Do a competent job, and I might grant you a repeat performance.”
“Well—” three steps away “—I’ll certainly—” two steps away “—try my best,” she said, at the edge of the bed. She bent her knees, dipped her head, and pressed her lips against Chrysalis’s hind hoof. She closed her eyes and opened her lips just wide enough for her tongue to slip out, warm and wet against the sensitive frog of the hoof. She heard a sigh of contentment, and placed a second kiss.
The third kiss placed higher, Cadance’s lips pressed against the green, velvet-soft coat on Chrysalis’s ankle. The next few kisses came fast, almost pecks, rising up the pegasus’s ankle until they reached her knee. Cadance slowed, taking her time. She pushed her cheeks against the soft, toned flesh of Chrysalis’s inner thigh, nuzzling and inhaling, sucking in the scents of sweat, jasmine, and a hint of feminine excitement. Every kiss took its time, soft and warm, teeth grazing the thin coat of fuzz as she sucked in little lovebites.
When she finally reached her goal, she kept her head still, inhaling deeply, letting Chrysalis feel her warm breath on her pussy. The scent was powerful here, stronger, summoning decade-old memories of cloud banks, broom closets, and messy bedrooms. Closer. Her lips pressed into the base of Chrysalis’s sex, and her nose touched her clit
Eyes still closed, she stuck her tongue out and licked, her tongue slipping up from the bottom of the pussy all the way up to the bare skin of her groin. Another contented sigh came from above. Her own saliva accounted for most of the moisture, with only a hint of wetness coming from Chrysalis’s very core.
“Mmmh, I’m too tired to get wet, that’s a job for you,” murmured Chrysalis. “Perhaps this will help...”
Cold liquid poured onto Cadance’s head, soaking her mane and running down her face. She gasped in shock, but did not move away. When the torrent ended, she cracked a single eye open to look up, and saw Chrysalis grinning at her. The pegasus had poured her cup of water over her head.
Cadance simply closed her eyes and licked again, everything much wetter now, as Chrysalis cackled in delight. She shivered from the cold water that had trickled down her neck, channelled the nervous energy into her efforts, lapping and licking the pussy in front of her. She felt warm thighs press against the side of her head, thick muscles rippling, holding her there, begging her to come closer in.
“Keep it going,” said Chrysalis, her voice more frantic now, “like you remember it, I know you remember it, the way we used to do it, such a good little tongue, my Cadance...” Her words turned to moans as Cadance shifted upwards, molding her lips over the top of Chrysalis’s cunt, applying a steady, gentle licking directly to her clit.
Jade Goldwespe had never been able to last. Neither could Chrysalis.
Cadance felt hooves on the back of her head, pulling her in, shaking from the exertion. The thighs around her head clamped down so tightly that she could no longer hear, her lover’s moans muffled as if underwater. A twitch, she remembered that twitch. The twitch built into a buck, a thrust of hips, hot, wet snatch rubbed on her face again and again as she did her best to keep licking, hips up and down in a spastic rhythm, building in pressure from every direction as she lapped up pussy juice, harder and faster until Chrysalis’s moans grew so loud that she could hear them even with the legs smushed against her ears—
The grip loosened. Cadance fell to the floor. She looked up, breathing hard, and wiped her mouth on her foreleg.
Chrysalis was still quivering. She didn’t open her eyes as she spoke. “You’ve learned some new tricks.”
Princess Cadance smiled. “Haven’t we all?”
