A year ago, Chrysalis would have never endured someone prodding her like this. She was a queen of the changelings, mortal foe of the ponies, near-conqueror of Canterlot. Just her name inspired paranoia in the few who knew of her. She had toppled empires with a few strategically placed changeling spies, crushed armies with her trickery.
And here she was, standing stock-still on a podium while a white hoof kept poking her, adjusting the fabric wrapped around her fake form. Her coat was as light yellow, her mane pink, her body slim and soft. Just like a certain pegasus friend of the unicorn currently holding her captive.
"Honestly, Chrysalis. I would think that a queen would have a bit more poise," Rarity huffed as another prod made her model flinch, causing the green silk to shift with her movement. A burst of magic fixed it in place again. "You are squirming around like a foal! If you would just hold still for half an hour, we'd be done by now." She ran her hoof carefully across the dress-in-making to smooth out some folds.
"If you would... ah!" Another soft touch over her flank made Chrysalis shiver. She glowered at Rarity, but she realized the mare was not even looking at her. "If you would hurry up, we'd be done by now," she finished, with much less bite than she wished she could muster.
She watched Rarity work on the sketch, adjusting cuts, adding decorations. The determination and dedication to her work were evident. The way she would look at Chrysalis, studying the dress for every little detail she did not like. The annoyed huff and hairflip when a new challenge had to be overcome. The way she twirled her pencil around while fishing for inspiration, or wave it like a conductor's baton if she had a good idea.
She was a queen among seamstresses, Chrysalis mused. She had the passion a ruler needed, the burning desire to improve herself and her work. Fabric, needle and thread were her decrees, and her dresses were the army that would carry her glory out into the world. If the circumstances around her birth had been different, Rarity might have ruled Equestria instead of Celestia.
"Is something the matter, Chrysalis?" Rarity had looked up from her work and was mustering her now, pencil frozen next to her.
Chrysalis snorted. "This is boring me. Do you know what I would do to someone who forced me into something like this in different circumstances?" She smiled, presenting her fangs entirely unbefitting her current body. "Even in your worst nightmares, you could not begin to imagine what I would..."
"Yes, yes. You would drain me off all love, throw me in the darkest dungeon, make me wish I'd never been born. We went through this already, and you are not scaring anyone. Now, just let me finish this one..." With a flourish, her pencil added another elaborate line to the sketch. "And done!"
When Rarity's magic had freed her of the fabric, Chrysalis jumped from the podium gracefully. Still in the air, she lit up her horn and when she touched the ground, the black, chitinous exoskeleton had replaced the yellow coat. She made a show of stretching and snapping her various limbs and joints.
"I swear, you act more like a cat than Opalescence does." Rarity's voice drifted in from the storage room next to her workshop, where she had disappeared with the leftover fabric. "Maybe if you behave next time, I'll buy you a nice rubber mousie! Wouldn’t that be delightful?"
Chrysalis had just started hissing when she realized her mistake. Rarity, having returned sans fabric, just smirked at her.
~#~
They shared the bed. Rarity had pointed out that it was really too big for her, even with Chrysalis' alicorn-sized body hogging space. At first, she had cussed up a storm about it, her dignity as a queen and how easy it would be for Rarity to sleep on the couch, but recently, she had kept quiet.
And in the privacy of Rarity's bedroom, they could also take care of the feeding.
"I've been wondering about something, Chrysalis," Rarity murmured from her position, lying on her side on top of the covers. "I always got the impression you could feed while in your transformed form. Wouldn't that make things... easier?"
Chrysalis looked down onto the unicorn, her long forelegs on either side of her prey, just barely brushing against the white coat. "It's more nourishing if I don't have to keep up my full transformation, so I prefer being in my true form,” she stated calmly. Which was true, up to a point. Half of the sentence. That was more than the Queen of Deception granted to other ponies.
She leaned down until she could almost touch Rarity's ear with her muzzle. "Now, close your eyes," she whispered. "Imagine her leaning over you. Imagine her breath as it tickles you softly. Imagine her quiet laugh... that just you are allowed to hear." Her mouth felt dry. "Imagine her closing in. You feel her touch on your barrel." Her own hoof moved as she had described. "Think of her. Think of how you... feel."
She watched the white unicorn. She saw her body rise and fall with her breath, her ear flick restlessly. How she shivered under Chrysalis' touch, while imagining someone else. Her vulnerable neck was bared.
Did Rarity trust her this much? Was she just careless? Even when they lay here, Rarity’s best-kept secret just between them, Chrysalis could not help but...
Her horn flickered, the ancient changeling magic transforming her vocal chords. She whispered "Rarity...," but it was Celestia's voice that made Rarity relax. It was Celestia in Rarity’s mind, leaning closer, carefully touching her hoof to Rarity’s own. It was Celestia who would know how it felt to be loved by this generous mare.
“You’re beautiful,” Celestia said. “You are amazing. Few would be so generous to share your home and your bed with a former enemy who could be plotting to take advantage of you to take revenge.” And then, a bit quieter, “I love you.”
Rarity sighed under Celestia’s… under Chrysalis’ hoof. A pink mist, only visible to a changeling’s eye, came from between the white coat, wrapping Rarity into an otherworldly glow. The stronger the glow became, the more little pieces of it sluggishly tore themselves from the cloud, convalescing in front of the changeling queen’s horn.
Chrysalis watched the cloud of emotion, mesmerized. Only when Rarity's breathing slowed, her imagination disappearing with the early sleep phase, she removed a tiny piece of the pink swirl and devoured it with a single bite.
Carefully, she levitated Rarity up in the air, maneuvering her under the covers and tucking her in properly, just the way the seamstress did every night. Chrysalis herself slipped in on the other side, leaving enough space between them.
Sleep would not find her that night.
Author's Note
I'm not a poet. Sorry.
Fuzzy
In her bed, the mare shuddered.
Not from the Night's chill.
In fullness of health, she be not ill.
Nor is it fear of obscurity for her art.
She shivered from the passion aimed at her heart.
A hoof not her own.
A familiar stranger in her home.
Yellow coat, one that would never roam.
“I can give you what you desire.”
The voice is sweet.
The craving real.
Her cheeks are given to heat.
Orange now, honesty with family appeal.
“I know what you want. I want it too.”
Its breath is gentle.
Its touch is strong but simple.
Sky blue and quick.
It knows what does the trick.
“I can give it to you. Give all of it to you.”
A pink hoof tickles.
Its presence fickle.
Touching her to cause a fuss.
Its frantic pace dragging her to Tartarus.
“All I ask in return is your love. It won’t be missed. Love buys you everything.”
In pleasure she arches.
The angle sublime.
A new color, purple, over pink marches.
The hoof moves with textbook precision, keeping perfect time.
“Don’t fight it. Let me be your every passion; everypony you’ve ever thought of can be yours. All for a little of your love.”
In protest, she moans, her will to harden.
In resistance, she sighs.
Midnight blue, cool as the Moon, the hoof explores her garden.
Then in weakness, she spreads her thighs.
“I can be all of them. Every fantasy. Each one more forbidden than the last.”
Hot to the touch, the hoof like flame.
Her loveless life and starved libido to blame.
A pale cream coat, unmatched in might.
Like the Sun, it lights her night.
“Even the really forbidden fantasies. Let me give this to you. Accept me, love me, feed me. Is it too much to ask?”
The pillow she bit.
Her button it hit.
A scream heard only by her feline pet.
A black, chitinous leg withdrew, its tip wet.
“Sleep on it. Think it over, won’t you? I don’t need your answer yet. Tomorrow is another night after all.”
In her bed, the mare heaved a sigh.
Not from her needs and body sated.
Nor from her future fated.
She sighed at the temptation to give up her life.
