A fern-green earth pony with a slightly disheveled terracotta mane plodded along a dirt path in the Everfree Forest. The path that had started out a road was now little more than a trail, most likely kept clear by the local wildlife than by any civilised travellers. But getting lost was the plan for Withania - or rather, finding the least travelled sections of the forest. She was looking for somepony, or some creature to be more precise - a creature with the torso of a pony and the body of a snake.
Withania had never been this deep into the forest before, but she was no stranger to the shallows of the Everfree. She knew better than to trust the paths, and instead she followed the plants.
Karo with big leaves. Rosa canina blooming out of season. Big lacebark.
Ask Withania what she had for breakfast and she’d have probably forgotten, but she could remember shrubs and trees like a magician memorising a deck of cards. She knew exactly how to get home, she just didn’t know where she was going.
As for why she was looking for a Lamia, well her intentions were entirely perverse. Withania had grown accustomed to indulging in the appetite of other ponies, allowing them to swallow her whole and make her their own, and she wanted more. There was an attraction to the nature of monsters and other creatures, a primal and feral nature, but mixed with the intelligence of a pony. She had her reformation potion ready, a means to survive the ordeal.
The thick bushes and shrubbery that obscured the forest floor suddenly cleared and the pony found herself in a hollow of sorts, a space between the bigger trees where the oppressive canopy thinned out to allow more sunlight in. Withania stopped and sat on her hunches to rub a knot out of her thigh muscle. And deciding that she must be close, she uncorked a vial of dark purple liquid and gulped it down.
“Are you lost, little pony?” said a voice. It was female in tone, but resonated in the air, a powerful voice that had no need to shout in order to be heard.
Withania froze in her resting position, eyes darting around the clearing to the source of the voice.
“I’m not lost,” she replied, slowly turning to look in all directions, “I’m looking for something. I’ll know when I get there.”
“You look poorly,” mocked the voice, “But then I expect no less from a pony.”
The penny dropped and Withania looked up, jumping slightly as she saw a face peering down at her through the leaves. It was the face of a pony, but somehow… bigger. However the foliage concealed the rest of the speaker, leaving Withania quite confused.
“Hello up there,” said Withania respectfully, “Please pardon my intrusion.”
The face suddenly moved, passing through the leaves to a wider opening and revealing the chest and forelegs of a pony. Withania’s eyes widened as she saw this. This pony was nearly twice her size, and would’ve put the strongest work ponies she’d met to shame, yet in appearance and build was tall and sleek like the fashion mares of Manehattan. The earth pony wondered how the branches of the tree she was in could even support her.
“Why are you in my house?” she said.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise.”
“I didn’t call for your apology, I called for an explanation,” insisted the face in the tree.
There was an authority to her tone. She didn’t ask, or even demand - she expected. Withania wasn’t sure how intimidated she should’ve been at this point, but an unnaturally large pony staring her down with a voice that could wake the very trees from their hibernation seemed sufficient grounds to at least be truthful.
“I’m looking for the lamia of these woods.”
“You told me you would know when you arrived,” chided the stranger, “You do indeed look poorly.”
Like an optical illusion that seemed impossible to see until the eye focused in a strange way, Withania suddenly saw it. Laying over the branches, obscured but not hidden, was the long and winding body of an enormous snake, dappled in the shadows of the canopy. It lay around the face, in the branches above Withania, behind her, and ahead. The lamia’s long body occupied the branches over the entire clearing, revealing how the face seemed to move without weight.
“Oh,” said Withania softly, “Hi.”
“So you have found the lamia of these woods, quite foolishly it appears, and your plan is… what exactly?”
“I have heard that you are a pony of pleasure,” continued Withania, just about holding her ground, “I wish to indulge you.”
The lamia moved. Withania thought that she was ready to dodge away into the thicket, but she was far from prepared. There was no warning, no tensing of the muscles, the entire twisted mass above her moved at the same time, like a row of marbles in a channel. The end of the seemingly endless tail dropped down behind Withania, pressing into her back, and the large pony-torso appeared in front of her, the lamia’s face inches from her own.
“It seems to me like you are pony of self-indulgence, and you are here for your own pleasure.”
Withania’s breathing betrayed her nerves as she fought to subdue the voice in her head that repeatedly told her how stupid she had been to come out here.
“This is true,” she stammered, “But I gain pleasure from your pleasure. If you would hear me out - I wish for you to eat me.”
The lamia did not react, maintaining a coy smile on her face.
“Why would you want such a thing?”
“It’s… it’s a kink,” confessed Withania.
“Pah!” scoffed the lamia, “What use is a kink that ends your life the first time you indulge it?”
“Let’s pretend that doesn’t matter. Would you indulge me for your own pleasure?”
“You offer yourself to me for selfish gain. I have all the prey I desire here in my domain. I have no need for you.”
Withania hesitated, she had to be careful here. She had taken a reformation potion, but that was only good for reversing digestion. It wouldn’t save her from physical harm. Perhaps a tactical retreat was in order…
“I’m very sorry to have disturbed you. I’ll leave you in peace…”
The earth pony gently pressed against the tail at her back, but it did not budge.
“I did not tell you to leave,” said the lamia, “My rejection of your offer does not vindicate you of your trespass. You traipse into my home, you expect me to entertain your desires, and you offer me nothing.”
“What… what if I told you I was willing, and I would be reformed by dawn. I could come back again and again. I could be yours to play with as you see fit?”
The lamia hummed thoughtfully a this, her face concealing her deductions. The tail at Withania’s back curled about her and drew her into a firm set of coils, her forearms pinned to her front and her hind legs dangling helpless behind her. She could breathe, but beyond that her fore legs had not an inch of mobility.
Already Withania felt her nethers behaving inappropriately, and the look on the lamia’s face told her that the lamia had already clocked this.
“And what if I snap your back and toss you into the lake behind my home? I would take great pleasure in that.”
Withania said nothing, her eyes widening in terror at the thought of this - much to the satisfaction of the lamia it seemed.
“What is your name, little pony?” she asked, leaning in close once again, her coils
“Withania.”
“Wi-tha-nee-ah,” repeated the lamia, tasting the syllables of her name, “A nighshade of certain pleasures if I’m not mistaken? Well let’s put your name to the test, shall we, little nightshade?”
Withania nodded meekly, since she seemed to have found an accord, and wasn’t being crushed to death.
“You may call me Surasa,” added her host, “Be sure not to bore me.”
Withania felt the coils about her body loosen and without warning she suddenly tumbled to the ground with a thud, glancing off of the retreating snake tail that had been supporting her. After she had got to her hooves and brushed her mane back, Surasa was displayed in front of her in immense glory.
Her bobbed mane was a sandy yellow that matched the barrel of her pony torso, with the same colour flowing down her length and along the entire underside of her snake body and tail. It saturated into a brighter yellow that blended into coral and then violet ripples on her sides and back. Somewhere about where her hips would be, the fur coat of a pony transitioned seamlessly into smooth scales with a slight satin sheen to them. Now that Withania had a moment to take all of this in, she found the lamia to be breathtakingly beautiful. But dangerously beautiful. Her eyes were alive and piercing, her forelegs folded confidently across her chest.
The tail, however. Withania’s eyes followed its length as if she were trying to navigate a maze. Its mass covered most of the clearing, its bulk almost twice as wide as her own hips at its widest, and easily ten or fifteen metres long. The earth pony felt her heartbeat quicken just imagining what she might look like as a lump inside that long body, slowly inching down to a final destination.
“Well? What do you think?” asked Surasa.
“You’re beautiful,” said Withania, bringing her eyes back up to the lamia’s face.
“So are many deadly things in this world. But there are few who separate natural beauty from merely a need to attract prey. You’re really not going to bolt are you?”
Withania shook her head, not breaking eye contact. “Very well,” continued Surasa, “Why don’t you get started, and I’ll decide how useful you can make yourself.”
The mass of lamia body shifted again and she arranged herself into a circle, laying in the middle of it and leaning against the thick muscular wall as if sitting in a jacuzzi, arms spread on either side of her. She gestured with her hooves, inviting Withania to approach. The earth pony gingerly clambered over the barrier in front of her, steeling her nerves.
To her left the end of Surasa’s tail idly swayed gently back and forth. Trying to be creative, Withania sidestepped over and moved to grasp it sensually against her face - only to have the tail clout her on the shoulder and send her sprawling to the patchy ground. Surasa’s head was tilted back, looking up at the canopy.
“Not the tail. Only I get to use that. Try again.”
Why do I get the feeling that this is going to be a rough ride… she thought to herself. Shaken, but not deterred, Withania decided to stick to what she knew. Assessing her host carefully she saw a long vertical dimple just at the point where Surasa’s fur coat became snake scales. There was only one thing the earth pony could think would be hidden in there…
Assuming a bold stance Withania sauntered as best she could up to the lamia - who remained motionless, still not watching - and placed her forehooves on Surasa’s hips. She could see the lamia’s chest slowly rise and fall with her breathing, but also feel her snake body gently expand and contract. It was fascinating to understand how the seemingly two separate halves of her body were one whole, a huge living length with lethal strength at any point.
Having not been knocked to the ground again yet, Withania gently moved her hooves up and down in a rhythmic massaging motion, directing her motions toward the suspicious slit in front of her. After a minute or so of this she got the reaction she was looking for - Surasa’s flower began to bloom, and the slit was pushed open to reveal her expanding labia.
Withania swung one leg over the wide tropically coloured snake body and lowered her muzzle onto the sizable pussy presenting itself to her. Starting out with the tip of her tongue she sensually probed Surasa’s clittoris, adding her saliva while her host started warming toward her.
Surasa inhaled deeply, not moving, but providing the necessary feedback that Withania needed. The earth pony felt the warm slick flow of the lamia’s honey pot at her nostrils, and responded by pressing further in, seeking to lap up as much as she could, to keep the button moistened only with her own saliva. The only problem was that Withania found herself slowly sliding down Surasa’s body, having nothing to hold onto and not wanting to dig her back hooves in.
Just as she paused to reposition herself the forbidden tail appeared out of nowhere, helixing around her body and forelegs alike before tightening into a body-enclosing coil. The tail effortlessly picked up her weight and pressed her face first into the lamia’s sopping wet pussy.
“Bless your little trotters I think you deserve some help for this endeavour… see how far you can get me, little pony…” spoke the voice of Surasa tonelessly.
Withania had fallen behind on her efforts to lap up all of Surasa’s fluids, but as the lamia holding her up pressed her entire muzzle into her dripping slit, Withania realised that Surasa’s love passage didn’t go upwards into her pony body - it went down, into the snake body.
Surasa began to rhythmically squeeze her toy pony - not painfully, but certainly enough that Withania felt it. A wave of compression that started at her hips and travelled through the coils around her body to the tip of the tail that hovered above her head. It was an intoxicating feeling, a small preview of the lamia’s immense strength, seeming to squeeze Withania out further into her open honey pot.
Slowly being pressed harder and harder, Withania gave it her all until finally her entire muzzle was buried in the lamia’s velveteen folds and she choked.
Surasa pulled her back out, directing her away while she coughed and spluttered, and then raised the coiled up pony to her face.
“Sorry,” said Withania, licking her lips, “I wasn’t expecting to go quiet that deep… I can do it though-”
“No, you’ve proven why animals need to be incapacitated before they are devoured. Even willing, you can still cause a problem. But you have gotten me all fidgety down there, I’ll give you that,” continued the Lamia, a smile creeping up the corners of her mouth, “I feel like making a mess of you.”
WIthout warning Surasa’s pussy spread wide open as if it were a second mouth, and she plunged Withania head-first into her glistening vagina.
The pony’s world went dark, and became immensely hot and humid as she was pushed into the stretchy folds up to her midriff. She was reminded of being swallowed, but these fleshy walls were softer and caresed her, eliciting an immediate blush as the realisation of being inside a creature’s sex stirred up a fire in her belly. No sooner than all of this happened however, Suarasa coiled the end of her tail around Withania’s twitching body in the other direction and pull her out with a wet squelch.
Withania blinked, readjusting to the bright outdoors and blowing Surasa’s juices out of her nostrils - and then suddenly gasped as the lamia plunged the tip of her tail into Withania’s own special passage. She winced at the first few strokes, but she was already wet enough that her folds soon began to loosen up for the oversized intruder.
“Now’s your second chance to impress me. This time with some inspiration…” said Surasa, repositioning Withania in front of her flower whilst rhythmically pumping her tail in and out of the pony’s significantly smaller passage.
If being spread wide by the tail whilst being used as a vibrator against Surasa’s clit wasn’t enough for Withania, the lamia began squeezing her again. Full body compressions that she felt in her ribcage, timed with alternating thrusts from the tail that made her involuntarily stick out her tongue further than she realised it could go. She was helpless putty in Surasa’s coils, and if this went on, she would probably become literal putty as well as figurative.
But the experience blew anything the earth pony had ever even imagined out of the water - not a single part of her comparatively fragile body was unstimulated. She had to breath in time with her work out or else choke as she was repeatedly pressed up to her ears into the fleshy folds of Surasa’s sex.
“That’s more like it…” breathed Surasa heavily, licking her lips in satisfaction, “I hope you’re tough, little pony, I’m not gentle with my toys… I only expect to get a single use from them…”
Withania didn’t even try to respond, her eyes rolling back behind closed lids as the serpentine tail relentlessly thrust into her, providing most of the force that shoved her face against Surasa’s swollen button. In the phosphenes of her closed eyes Withania saw stars as the overwhelming pressure on every part of her body began to take its toll. She was so close to climax, but her brain was giving up, wanting to pass out…
“Ah,” sighed her host, adjusting her grip on Withania’s limp body with a skillful flick of her tail, “Now you’re much more pleasing to the eye.”
She held Withania aloft over her head, and lowered her flanks first to take a long, sensual lick of the pony’s gaping and dripping pussy. Her thighs were drenched with her own fluids, her head drenched in Surasa’s, Withania felt bedraggled. She couldn’t help but moan depravedly as Surasa lapped up the excess juice leaking out of her nethers, sucking on her like an empty juice box. And just as Withania felt the glorious onset of an imminent orgasm, Surasa lowered her down again. She whined in frustration, much to the lamia’s satisfaction.
“But I haven’t come yet,” intoned Surasa, “You didn’t think you would get the first turn, did you? Don’t feel bad, little pony, you never had a chance of being able to bring my to climax on your own. However, I do appreciate your valiant effort so I think I’ll grant you the privilege of being alive for this next part…”
Too exhausted and pent up to think about these words Withania hung in the air with a single turn of Surasa’s immense tail around her chest, watching the forest begin to move around her as the lamia glided out of the hollow, her body flowing as smoothly as if she were slipping through water.
Little more than a stone’s throw away through the thick and tangled trees of the Everfree they arrived at a small lake, long and narrow enough for the canopy to overhang all but the very centre. The water was as still as ice, there being no breeze able to disturb it, resulting in an eerily beautiful mirrored surface. Surasa suspended Withania over the edge of the water, displaying her limp form like a trophy.
Withania fully expected to be dumped into the lake to wash herself off, but instead she saw the reflection of Surasa loom over her shoulder. She felt the lamia’s breath on her neck, and for a blissful moment she thought her predator was about to engulf her head with a large, dripping maw.
Instead she felt a sudden sting at her jugular vein, so fast her eyes didn’t register Surasa’s mouth lunge forwards and back again. A deadly bite to the neck, her heart stuttered and a grey fuzzy cloud appeared around the periphery of her vision. Surasa backed away from the water’s edge and lowered Withania to the ground. The earth pony’s hooves hadn’t been on solid earth for the past hour, but as she straightened herself up to stand on her own, she felt a dull weakness spreading throughout her body.
Staggering backwards she tripped over Surasa and collapsed in a heap of her own limbs, her brain sending signals that her muscles weren’t receiving. Her pupils contracted in shock, uncertain what was happening to her.
“Shhh,” cooed Surasa, “Don’t fret, my little nightshade, this tiny dose isn’t going to kill you, but like I said earlier - willing or not you might inadvertently cause me harm if I don’t disable you first. But just so you know I care, I’ve brought you to my mirror pool so you’ll have an excellent view of me pleasuring myself with you. I will let you be a part of this experience.”
Withania lay on her side looking up at the huge predator bearing over her, unable to move or speak. She could breath as much as her body did involuntarily, however her diaphragm gave no response to her trying to take a deep breath or gasp. Her voice escaped only as a meaningless sound or moan. She was no longer in control of her body, a passenger in her own self, senses transmitting to a brain that could not reply. She felt an overwhelming sense of isolation, as if she were a stone on a cliffside or brick in a wall.
Very slowly, the smooth and dry scales of Surasa’s tail slipped under her neck, curling about her chest and then her barrel, lifting her limp form off the cold ground like a doll. Withania welcomed the embrace of the tail, she called out for it in her mind, seeking the comfort of a living thing to interact with her unresponsive body, which itself was left in a state of desperate wanting.
Surasa lifted the paralysed earth pony up with ease, relishing the way she flopped in her grasp, no longer powerless but completely helpless. Her toy needed her now, the game moving beyond this pony’s strange desire and into a relationship of dependency. The lamia drew the pony into her embrace, using her tail to bear the weight and her forelegs to stroke and knead the soft underbelly. Withania stared at her reflection in the still waters of the lake, her familiar green body wrapped in the bonds of an orange and purple tail, forelegs bound to her chest, hind legs hanging down. With expert levels of self control, her captor’s flower bloomed again, spreading wide at her command to reveal a shadowy pink tunnel, its plush walls interrupted by strands of her fluids stretched between the boundaries.
Slowly, with cinematic patience, Surasa began to lower her prey into the open maw of her sex, gently nudging the hind legs between the folds of her lips using her hooved forelegs.
Withania felt her extremities pushed together into a hot and slick enclosure that posed little resistance as it expanded to accommodate her hind legs and swiftly followed by her thighs. Exhaling, she felt the heat of Surasa against her screaming pussy, and it was with almost with relief that the lamia bore down on her shoulders to press her hips and rump into her formidable passage.
“So you see,” whispered Surasa into Withania’s twitching ears, “No matter how hard you tried, you were never going to get me off on your own. But like this, I will take all of the pleasure…”
And without further ado, the lamia began to thrust the stricken earth pony in and out of her pussy, pulling out to Withania’s hocks before plunging her back in nearly to her chest. Pressure from all sides surrounded Withania, quickly followed by the suction of the vaginal muscles holding onto her as she was pulled out again. Hot arousal fluid forced its way into her own sex, dominating her own privates with foreign liquid, her fur coat and tail quickly plastered flat against her skin.
Far from her calm demeanor earlier, Surasa now moaned in pleasure, her voice reverberating and adding to both her own stimulation and Withania’s. The earth pony exhaled noises as she was thrust into her wet containment, but could only stare wide-eyed in shock and arousal at her reflection in the water.
After long minutes of steady work from the lamia, Withania felt the fleshy walls around her tightening, tensing, contracting. This did not go unnoticed by Surasa, and she slowed for a moment to lean down and speak again:
“Deep breath now, and make me proud, little nightshade…”
Withania felt a tug at her hind legs deep inside, and with a generous push from above her entire body was quickly pulled into Surasa’s passage with a wet gulp, liquids squirting out as the folds of the lamia’s flower closed over her head.
The dappled light of the forest was replaced with total darkness, the high-pitched rustle of leaves with a deep, booming heartbeat and wet sucking sounds, and the cool air with hot and humid musk. Withania felt the spongy soft walls rippling around her convulse and drag her deep into the lamia’s body, caressing and squeezing her, forcing the flood of juices into every gap in her body until she felt like she would melt into liquid herself. The soundtrack was a crescendo of Surasa’s far away voice wailing with pleasure as the lamia rapidly massaged her clit while her pussy consumed the pony within.
With no need to be able to move, Withania was kneaded into ecstasy, her long delayed orgasm rapidly bursting from ember into inferno, consuming her soul while her body was ravaged as the plaything of her host. Her orgasm ignited a fresh wave of hormones that shouted down the dulling cloud of venom, eliciting a spasm from her muscles.
In response to this sudden motion, the soft puffy walls around her clamped down in a moment of almost unbearable pressure, and Surasa’s orgasm broke with a wave of convulsions that carried Withania back up to her waist line again.
Withania’s head broke back into the world, sideways in fact, where Surasa had lay down to wallow in her afterglow, and the lamia’s tail quickly grasped the pony around the neck and pulled her out, leaving her bedraggled and twitching body laying over her elongated body’s midsection.
Broken and exhausted, Withania panted as sensation began to return to her muscles. The bright smooth scales underneath her reflected patterns that danced in her eyes, the firm bulk of Surasa her ship in a storm of debauchery. The lamia was much bigger, stronger and more enduring that she was in every way, but at least her misadventures were at the point where she merely had to survive now, rather than try to appease her host. As exhausted as she was, the thrill of finding out just how far her body could still be pushed lingered in her mind.
The familiar sensation of the tail coiling about her body crept up Withania’s spine, and the lamia picked up her dripping body in a fully enclosing set of coils that left only her head poking out the top. Surasa squeezed her playfully, opening her mouth so that the excess cum that seeped out from the coils dripped into her maw.
“Mmmm,” she moaned, “You certainly weren’t lying to me earlier. Now you’ve got me wondering what other dirty little desires you have hidden away that would amuse me…”
Withania opted to remain silent, resisting the urge to beg the lamia to consume her, since this would likely result in something else happening instead.
“Now, my little nightshade,” continues Surasa, her voice lowering into a sonorous tone, “Look into my eyes and tell me what it is that you desire. Look at my scales, see the way they dance for you.”
Bound on all sides, Withania could look nowhere else but at the lamia laying under her, her huge bright eyes almost luminescent in the shade of the forest canopy, her bright scales glistening and dazzling her eyes into seeing strange patterns.
“Good, little pony, you’re willing, but you still have inhibitions. Let go of your self control. Show me what you really think about when you’re alone…”
The sounds of the forest around her faded out until the only sound was Surasa’s voice and her own breathing. The lamia turned off the world, and gently placed Withania down on her mid section again.
Without even thinking about it, Withania’s hoof went between her hind legs with a pleasurable gasp. Her eyes followed the geometric patterns of the lamia’s tail up to Surasa’s still blooming flower, and then her seductive and everlasting gaze. And her slightly open mouth, tongue in lips.
“I need it,” whispered Withania aloud, “I need to be inside her, crammed into her throat, sucked down into her tail and melted into goop, processed by her body, stripped of everything and reduced to fat…”
Surasa whistled as she heard this, raising her eyebrows. “Wow you weren’t kidding earlier… That sounds delightful but I’m getting cold down here, so why don’t you get me back in the mood first?”
Surasa had barely finished her sentence before Withania shimmied herself up to the lamia’s exposed pussy and began grinding her own sex against it, still using one hoof for extra contact.
“Hmmm, you ponies are truly simple creatures. And yet I’m the monster in the forest.”
She curled her tail back to lift Withania’s head and see her sex-fueled eyes - but with surprising dexterity the pony raised both of her cum-slicked fore-hooves and seized the end of Surasa’s tail, shoving it down her throat and trying to suck on it like a stallion’s cock.
Surasa laughed softly at this and began to slip her tail in and out of the pony’s mouth as the semi-feral mare desired. She angled Withania’s head back so that each thrust mashed their labias together with a delicious wet squelch and a simultaneous low-pitched squeak from the pony. The pony clearly seemed to be enjoying it as she was taking in as much length as she could, a bulge appearing down her throat, limited only by how far she could open her mouth to accommodate the tapered end of Surasa’s body.
Withania tried to steer the tail sticking out of her throat around her head, confusing Surasa somewhat until she realised what her prey was trying to do - Withania wanted the tail around her neck. Surasa licked her teeth in glee, adjusting her extremity to control her prey’s neck and then continue thrusting into her throat. A gentle squeeze, timed so that the pony could gasp for breath on the back stroke and then feel the compressions on her neck from inside and out as she was crammed full. The tail poked into her stomach, stretching her chest so that the shape of the tail could be seen half-way into her body.
“Withania, my little nightshade,” said Surasa softly, “I must say you have been a delight. Don’t be a stranger now…” And with that she effortlessly lifted the earth pony up into the air, impaled on the end of her tail.
Opening her mouth wide she took in Withania’s ample hindquarters in one go, her legs folded against her body, and used her tail to push the body into her expanding torso. Withania was too stuffed full of lamia tail to speak, but moaned in ecstasy as she felt the wet folds of Surasa’s esophagus seize hold of her flanks, the contracting waves starting to drag her body deeper into the lamia’s throat.
Surasa pulled her tail out, leaving Withania with a sudden sense of feeling hollow, however allowing the fleshy tunnel around her to compress her into a tight grip. Just as Withania expected her world to go dark, there was a different movement. Her window to the outside world, framed by Surasa’s jaws moved as her host slid back to the water’s edge and leaned over to look at herself.
Withania saw her wide eyes peering out from lamia’s mouth, her body just a lump in the Surasa’s throat, held in place by impeccable muscle control. Surasa waved at her reflection, unable to speak with her mouth full - however Withania could hear steady in and out breathing from somewhere under the tongue, suggesting that Surasa had snake-like glottis that enabled her to breath while feeding on larger meals.
With her piercing half-lidded stare, Surasa raised one of her hooves to the bottom of her throat bulge and pressed between Withania’s flanks. Massaging up and down, she felt for Withania’s reaction when she located the pony’s sex, and began stimulating it through her throat.
Bound in place by enveloping flesh, Withania couldn’t move an inch as Surasa lit up her already stimulated pussy, and her hypnotised, sex-addled brain quickly took advantage of further interaction with a long drawn-out moan of pleasure. With the pony lodged in her throat, Surasa could feel every convulsion and sense her rising tension. Just as Withania’s shudders reached a peak, the lamia closed her mouth, shutting the pony into darkness for the last time and swallowed in a single powerful gulp.
Withania’s orgasm broke Surasa’s spell a second time, and she regained her lucidity just in time to feel her body slip down the back of the lamia’s throat to the middle of her torso. Normally she would expect to find herself crammed into the stomach, but Surasa’s pony body apparently lacked this organ, and Withania found herself in limbo just above the waistline. Then in yet another unexpected sensation to a pony used to being swallowed alive, Surasa gulped a second time, and the entire process repeated, passing Withania through a check valve and into what could only have been the lamia’s snake body.
Pulled by convulsing waves from below, and gripped by the stretch of the esophagus, Withania was stretched out in a slimy and well-padded tube, slowly making her way down into the depths of the lamia, lubricated on all sides by sweat, cum, and saliva. Withania breathed a relaxing sigh of contentment as the huge body around her took over and began to massage her battered body. Eyes closed in the darkness she smiles as she felt herself pushed through another sphincter that must have been a snake stomach, and after a brief pinch that traveled from her rump to her neck, she settled in a looser fitting section that dripped with digestive fluids.
For a moment, she assumed she was outside of Surasa’s voluntary control. And then a pair of hooves pressed in from above, squashing her against the padding of her prison. There were no sounds from outside, Withania’s world was the deep bass rush of a body’s inner workings, but she knew exactly what was happening - Surasa was kneading her stomach.
Strong and relentless shoves began to squash Withania back and forth in her limited space, washing the viscous fluid over her, forcing it into every opening on her body, massaging it into her skin. In record time she felt her bones and muscles give way, and her body was crushed into a ball of pony-pudge. Normally she had to wait at least an hour for what was her favourite sensation.
Outside, having made quick work of the green earth pony now reduced to sludge in her stomach, Surasa lay back against her tail and sighed.
“Oh, those sweet marshmallow ponies will rot my fangs one day...” She looked up at the canopy, noting the position of the sun. “I should find some lunch.”
