Sitting upon a throne within his mansion - the very mansion he’d seen renovated and turned into the premier bordello in all of Equestria, Tarsis grinned. Chrysalis may have been gone, defeated and imprisoned within stone, yet that was only a minor inconvenience. Virtually every species in existence, from the ponies and griffons to the disgusting love-bugs that had once been his kin, had seen the hedonistic delights he had to offer.

The Princesses, each and every one, had sought his services, unwittingly becoming pieces in a game he’d only just begun. The opening moves had been subtle, so subtle that he’d had his doubts if they’d work, yet everything had worked out better than he could have imagined. Every day brought new stallions to weaken, to break and tempt with incomprehensible pleasure, and every day the empires of the land grew weaker because of it - nevertheless, his schemes weren’t so grandiose as to include conquest.

He had been, was, and always would be a simple changeling, following in his mother’s footsteps and wishing for nothing more than to ensure the hive - his hive was well-fed and maintained. The way he saw it, it was a win-win scenario. Everycreature was enjoying themselves in one way or another, his broodmates would no longer starve, and he’d ensured only the most steadfast males were able to reproduce - in a way, he was doing the world a favor. Natural selection was a long, arduous process, and he’d expedited it considerably.

Hearing the front door creek open, listening to the timid steps of someone unfamiliar, his grin broadened. He’d come a long way, showing a great many sissies the light of their true calling, but he had a long - long way to go. As a pegasus appeared from the foyer, clad in a Wonderbolt flight suit, he waved the prospective customer over. Even if the pony wasn’t there to join his ranks, he’d likely be able to change that soon enough.

“H…hi,” the stallion fretfully began, openly sweating and trying not to look at a griffon and diamond dog violently fucking over in one corner.

As he leaned forward, Tarsis’ segmented eyes played over the pegasus. Well-into adulthood, a strong build, and almost assuredly one of the esteemed aeronauts from Canterlot, the stud was quite the masculine specimen. His lips curled, exposing his fangs, while he reclined and spread his legs. Sure enough, after only the slightest bit of hesitation, the newcomer timidly peeked at his fully exposed package.

“Tell me,” he began, drawing his forked tongue over his lips, “how may I be of service…?”