To Those Who Resist

The entirety of the former Canterlot Castle was caked in black chitin. What was once a luxurious castle, was now a nightmarish maze. The halls of the hive were deformed and rotten, hardened with age. Many of the rooms had become breeding chambers for more changelings to fight in Chrysalis’s army. The throne room was just like every other room in the hive: black and hard, but Chrysalis had given the room her own sadistic touch. From the ceiling hung glowing green cocoons, encasing Chrysalis’s trophies. These trophies were enemies she had personally defeated in battle, and brainwashed to her will. Her most prized trophy hung directly above her throne: the former Princess Celestia. Like all of Chrysalis’s trophies, Celestia hung upside-down within the cocoon, floating in the encased fluids. She was stripped naked, and her tongue hung from her mouth with a pleasured smile. Her eyes were glowing with a distorted green and black spiral as two glowing green tentacles groped and pulsed within her insides. She hung weightless in the cocoon’s fluids, being constantly brainwashed by the hypnotic juices mixed with the cocoon’s fluids. She was experiencing every sexual desire she harbored in her subconscious, multiplied tenfold. She had practically been drained of every other thought in her brain, replaced only with horny sexual needs. Meanwhile, her conscience was being linked to the changeling hive mind, allowing Chrysalis direct control over her body.

Chrysalis’s wings buzzed briefly as she thought about the pleasure she had experienced when she took over Canterlot 7 years ago. The citizens of Equestria who were in Canterlot at the time never stood a chance. They were imprisoned, brainwashed, and were either used as a food source for changeling larvae or carriers for the larvae. Even the stallions had their uses, impregnating the mares with changeling eggs for reproducing the lost changelings in the hive. She chuckled to herself and stood up, then took flight up to Celestia’s cocoon. Her wings hummed as they held her suspended in the air.

“After long last, you were finally mine,” Chrysalis softly murmured, in a sultry tone. She stroked the cocoon where Celestia’s breasts floated. The cocoon opened at her touch, and the fluids inside fell to the floor with a rather disgusting sounding splat. Two more tentacles wrapped themselves around Celestia’s waist and ankles, lowering her down to Chrysalis’s eye level. Celestia’s arms went slack, falling below her head as she hung upside down. Her naked body was covered in patches of excess cocoon fluid. Chrysalis stroked her prize’s large breasts. A pink mist started to flow from Celestia’s open mouth, and Chrysalis absorbed the love Celestia emitted.

“So dirty, Celestia,” Chrysalis chuckled. “It amazes me what thoughts you had buried in your horny little mind. It’s quite delicious.” The door to the throne room morphed open. Chrysalis sent Celestia back into her cocoon and closed it, the cocoon now continuing to literally fuck her mind. Chrysalis flew back down to the floor as a changeling officer walked through the door. The officer was a female, wearing blue chitin armor that was very revealing. Her curves had been expanded rather significantly, and her eyes were glowing with the same green and black spiral Celestia’s were. The officer practically looked ready to be stripped down for sex.

“Your majesty,” the officer saluted, speaking in a near-monotone voice. Chrysalis walked up to the officer, standing almost twice as tall as her.

“Officer Unit 796705, report,” she ordered.

“My queen, we managed to create a new servant in the field, but it was silenced.”

“We lose units every day,” Chrysalis muttered. “This news is not new to me.”

“But your majesty,” the officer continued. “This one was much younger than most. Only a foal.”

“So what?”

“The Rebellion doesn’t send children into battle. Their morals prevent it.”

“Their morals are a weakness we continue to exploit, Unit 796705,” Chrysalis said. “We cannot take note of moral weaknesses within the Rebellion when we must focus on finding their secret location.”

“This signal came from an area we have not searched yet,” the officer reasoned. “A foal had been turned, and not five minutes later, the signal was silenced. I believe the Rebels have been going to extremes to protect their staging area. This instance…”

“...has proved to be a fatal error on the Rebels’ part,” Chrysalis finished, with a sinister chuckle. “The Rebels have made a grave mistake. For once, I almost feel that they should have spared this filly, whom was so obviously executed in cold blood. It could have saved them. Fortunately for us, the Rebels’ overcautious actions have proven to be their downfall.”

“What is your command, then, my mistress?”

“Send out three strike teams to the last known location of the executed foal immediately. I will join them. Order a retrieval team to salvage the bodies when the task has been completed. They will prove to be excellent test subjects.”

“Yes, my queen,” the officer said. She saluted, then left the throne room. Chrysalis walked to her personal armory in the throne room and selected a green chitin chestplate and leg armor. They snapped onto her body, her hard natural shell holding it in place. She pressed a piece of her leg armor, and it slid open, a black .50 caliber handgun with glowing green highlights snapped onto the inside. Chrysalis drew the gun and checked the ammo. It was full, with 12 parasitic bullets loaded. She spun the barrel and put the gun back, then left the throne room.

“This will be the day the Rebellion ends,” she said to herself. “Zecora will see the enslavement of her friends, and I will make her beg for mercy. And she will receive none.”

Chrysalis made her way through the hive. As she passed the feeding chambers, muffled moans of pleasure could be heard. Chrysalis would pay these chambers a visit later. She enjoyed watching the changeling broodmares feel such ecstasy at the expense of their free will. They had all been broken when they were captured, and now they served as braindead broodmares, mindlessly serving the changeling reproduction process. Chrysalis soon reached the front gates. The strike teams were waiting for her. Their armor was not as revealing as the officer’s. Rather, their armor covered them from head to toe, only showing their spiraling green eyes. They carried heavy machine guns and hypnotic gas bombs. These strike teams specialized in killing or wounding masses quickly and effectively, the ones left alive dragged back to the hive for their enslavement. The strike teams saluted as Chrysalis graced their presence.

“Strike teams Scarab, Roach, and Fire Ant, reporting as ordered, your majesty,” the leader of Scarab said.

“Come with me,” Chrysalis instructed. “It is time for the Rebellion to meet its end.” The strike teams said nothing more, only following Chrysalis out of the gates and taking flight to the location of the Rebel base.