(Sincerest apologies to the previous anons - I had intended to use Dashie and have some Oviposition, but my current assets are very limited, and I couldn't quite make it look right. I still have the scenario in mind, it'll just take a while to do it properly. I hope this will suffice. <3 )

Angle 1: https://my.mixtape.moe/pqlrmi.webm
Angle 2: https://my.mixtape.moe/hgnqva.webm


No feeling would ever taste so sweet as victory to Queen Chrysalis. There were, of course, many more to come, but this one was so sickeningly sweet all the same. She had isolated her mark with vindictive precision, convinced her that her sweet little sister had been lured into the Changeling Queen's grasp with a well placed drone or two, and given her the option to exchange herself in return for the foal's life.

Predictably, she hadn't refused, nor had she wasted any time - her majesty had made quite clear that the presence of anyone but Applejack alone would be answered with the immediate execution of her sister. The doomed mare had presented herself precisely where she was meant to, even stripped herself bare when commanded to. The Black Queen relished in the steadily growing aura of terror about her prey, bathed in it as she was commanded to approach, to kneel. The farm mare took two steps forward, and faltered - she inquired, with a delicious spike of terror and trepidation in her voice, where her sister was. Chrysalis answered with steel. A blade humming with hellish potence swept around in a punishing arc of steel in a fraction of a second, a fan of crimson staining the air, and then seeping into the cold flagstone floor. There was a poetic justice in this, Chrysalis thought - the Changeling way was treachery, sowing mistrust and uncertainty. Honesty, therefore, was the first to die.
For a single heartbeat, there was silence, as Applejack stared in shock and horror, a venomous, thin smile stretching the corners of the Black Queen's lips. Her grace was trembling, delight and triumph in her eyes, a most vile, pure hatred welling up inside her. It was a feeling beyond the comprehension of the sane, more than animal rage or even violent psychosis. It was a twisted, overwhelming, yet calculated loathing for the dying pony standing there before her that reached into the depths of her rapidly drumming heart. It demanded she be punished further for her defiance. Her Grace yearned to desecrate her, to humiliate her, and a rich, evil lust rapidly clawed its way from her chest.

She took a step forward, extended an arm to catch the body as it fell forward, separate from the head - nary a second had passed. A tremor of hellish delight seized her, a wave of vicious passion that possessed her to slam the tip of the ancient blade deep into the stone floor. She yanked the fresh, bleeding corpse backwards onto her throne, and stopped the momentum of the rolling head with nothing more ceremonious than the bare sole of her foot. She felt that silky mane flowing betwixt her toes like a river, gave a throaty, predatory moan, and slipped her throbbing murderboner deep into the waiting depths of her fresh kill's pussy. Her hands fervently glided over the supple, toned flesh of the farm mare's twitching, seizing body, and found their home hitched under her generous thigh, and clutching greedily at her soft, smooth tummy. The thought of laying a brood of her young in that warm, squishy tummy spurred her to slip into a delicious, drawn-out thrust deep into the marshmallowy depths. With infinite relish, the Black Queen began to rape her corpse, deciding in that moment that she very well deserved a few long, luscious hours of carnal bliss...