Snakepony Salutations

by MightyShockwave

Rating: teen
Tags: Romance, Second Person, Fetish, Random, Anthology, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe
Length: 28513

A series of second-person one-shots involving the reader's encounters with half-snake half-pony creatures.

A series of little one shots about encounters between the reader and lamia ponies, usually involving some kind of sappy light romance. Each chapter will its own story, with no crossover between them. I will continue to add 'chapters' as I do them.

Contains: Coil cuddles, constriction, hypnosis, and lots and lots of cuties!

Published 2019-10-24 04:10:01 UTC
Last updated 2019-10-25 21:33:12 UTC

Spa Days

Finally, you’ve saved up enough bits and leave time from your job to finally go on a vacation. After pouring over travel brochures, you finally decide on a destination: the small but burgeoning hamlet of Ponyville. You board an airship, check in at the local hotel, drop off all your stuff. The airship was fast; it’s still afternoon, and you decide to check out one of the more famous attractions: The Ponyville Day Spa. Supposedly it’s been around for some time, but just very recently has skyrocketed in popularity. As you stand before its rather plain doors, you wonder what could be so special about it's 'new methods.' Curiosity leads you to enter, and you push open the door.

The mare at the front desk happily greets you. Except, as becomes apparently clear as you trot towards her, she is not a pony. Well, not all of her at least. Her torso gives way to a beautiful stream of blue and pink scales, arranged neatly in striped patterns, all neatly bundled in massive pile behind the desk. There must be two tons of thick, pillowy serpent tail around her, so much that she was using herself as a seat. You’re spellbound at how the sunlight from the window makes her scales shimmer with every little twitch and shift, with sheens of light racing across her curves like they were some kind of racetrack.

”Ah, you must be new here,” says the receptionist, her voice shattering your trance and bringing your focus up to her face.

You finally notice her eyes are slit, but they still have the same country warmth you’ve been seeing in your brief time here. She explains how the spa has undergone a soft relaunch after the recent trade agreement with Serpentia allowed for the import of transformative snake oil. You’ve heard about that, but make a comment about how those sorts of goods are typically prohibitively expensive. The receptionist chuckles and tells you how business more than makes up for it in the tourist season. It’s the off-season now, but she tells you that the local residents also greatly love the spa’s new...assets. Fortunately, she mentions, this is the slowest time of the day, and they have an open slot for you.

All you just need to do is pick the treatment.

Her serpentine tail springs to life, hovering above your face before twirling around quickly and pointing towards the sign behind her. Your eyes felt magnetized to the tail tip, following it around as it spun and you felt your focus be flung to the board like she had tossed it there. The basic treatment describes a slither rub that will supposedly make your tense muscles relax under their touch. The intermediate treatment involves a full body massage, with a picture of a smiling pony’s head popping out of a bundle of coils. The advanced treatment involves ‘Squeezing the stress from your bones’ as well as optional hypnotherapy. Prices seem steep, but this is a vacation and you’ve already allocated a lot of bits for having fun

Still, the receptionist senses your eagerness, but also notices your reluctance to commit to a more thorough treatment. She giggles, which sends a reverberation along her entire tail.

”If you’re unsure, you can pay up front for the advanced, and we’ll refund you if you don’t end up using those parts of the service,” she says.

After some deliberation, you feel that’s fair, and toss the necessary bits onto the counter. The receptionist’s tail tip curls around a pen and writes some shorthand onto a slip of paper.

”Thank you sir, please go down the hall to room 6b and present this ticket to your masseuse,” she tells you in a chipper tone.

Taking the ticket in your mouth, you trot down the hall. It’s mostly quiet, but you hear the telltale sound of something heavy shifting over tile coming from a lot of these rooms, as well as gentle coos from what you imagine to be other customers. The doors are shut tight, obviously mindful of the customers’ privacy. Some weird, shimmering light is faintly coming from underneath one of the doors that catches you eye for a while. Despite your curiosity, you tear your eyes away and dip into room 6b, the only one that was open.

You step into the warm, humid air of the room. A quick glance reveals that the humidity is due to a giant steaming pool off to the side, with a huge padded table on the other. You look for masseuse, stepping further inside, but she seems to be absent.

Suddenly, you hear a sudden rushing behind you.

”Oh! A customer!” You hear a sweet, sing-songy voice exclaim.

The sound makes you jump, dropping the ticket. With lightning speed, an inky black tail tip swerves around you and plucks the ticket from the air. You turn around to see one of the most beautiful mares you’ve ever seen perusing it. She has a long, straight, electric blue mane with matching eyeshadow, and a light gray coat of fur. Erupting from her torso was a thick and mighty serpent tail, coated with jet-black scales that reflected the light from the fluorescent bulbs above in striking flashes of white. As she studies the ticket, her serpent half continues to slither in, lightly shutting the door simply by pushing her coils up on it. Seemingly satisfied, the mare shifts her gaze to you.

”A new face, but you jump straight into the intermediate treatment with the option for advanced? You’re quite brave,” she says a somewhat sultry tone. “But, don’t worry. We at the Ponyville Day Spa know how to properly treat a pony after a long day.”

Her coils shift to further splay themselves in the room, and for a second you could swear like she was looking like she was getting ready to strike.

”The basic massage can be performed either on the table or in the heated pool. The table gives me more finesse and control, while the pool imparts a sense of weightlessness that many customers prefer. Or...” She says, trailing off.

She bundles her coils again. You almost get dizzy from trying to see how everything flows together. Either way, it shows that she has incredible manual control over her entire length. When all is said and done, there is a loop of her thickest portion tucked in between two coils arched up on both sides.

”You may elect to have the treatment begin on me. This would make it easier to shift into other treatments, but I will not go on that course unless you enjoy the basic massage and wish to progress further.”

It seems all three options have their pros and cons, you need some time to think. However, you ultimately decide that the heated pool would be the best experience.

”Very well, please take a dip in the pool then. There are steps, don’t worry,” she says, letting her coils fall to the ground with a big thud.

You turn and step into the pool. It’s heated like a bath, and the fragrance of the water lets you know it’s been treated with oils and minerals. You stand at its deepest, the center, where the water gently laps at your jaw. The masseuse slithers in after you, swimming round and around the edge to get as much of her in the pool as possible. Now you know why the pool had such a big lip. Surprisingly, she’s able to get her entire length inside, even though it is no impossible to wade around without having to climb over her. The masseuse slowly rises from the water before you, and looks deeply into your eyes. From behind her rises a massive loop of her thickest portion. You stare at its sheer strength as water drips off it in large streams. It gently lowers itself right in front of you, between you and the masseuse, sinking under the water.

”Please, step inside and rear up on your hind legs,” she says.

You feel a bit of apprehension, but do so anyway. Immediately, you feel the loop cinch around you, firmly gripping your midsection and the top of your flanks. It has to be at least as thick as your head, with power to match. You feel yourself being hoisted up as if you weighed nothing while the masseuse continue to arrange herself underwater, before being set down, with your hind hooves meeting the tiled pool floor. The coil around your stomach begins to ripple, pressing in as shifting points around your core. The mucles of your haunches instantly melt under the sensation, making you close your eyes and breathe a sigh of relaxation. When you open them, you notice that you’re facing backwards. It soon hits you that she’s turning you, spooling her coils around you like a thimble. She spins you four times, with the coils on you rising every time, with the initial loop finally coming to rest around your neck. All the while, the coils continue to rub and press on more and more of your body, eventually feeling the muscle-tenderizing massage from your neck to the bottom of your hind legs. Water seeps in between the thick, powerful bands of serpent around your body, creating a slick, oily medium that makes her scales feel like the finest silk as they caress your fur.

”How are you feeling so far?” She asks, her serpentine body relentlessly rubbing your weary bones.

You can only nod silently, still absorbing everything that's happening.

”Glad that you’re enjoying my skills,” she says, breaking the silence. “Now, your ticket said that you might be interested in bumping up to the advanced treatment. After having sampled the intermediate offerings, do you want to upgrade? If not, it’s fine, I will just complete the intermediate package. If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask those either.”

You bite your lip, still a bit apprehensive. However, you soon remember that you're on vacation, and you might as well get the most out of your trip. You again nod, affirming your choice. Hopefully, you won't regret it.

”Oh my! I must really be making a good impression!” Exclaims the masseuse with an unmistakable twinge of excitement, offering a glimpse past the sultry veneer that she puts on for customers. However, she quickly collects herself. ”Now, the advanced treatment is a little...intense, that’s not even with the optional hypnotherapy treatment. It’s completely safe, but if, at any point, you want me to stop, just let me know, alright?” She says.

You nod, unafraid.

”Very well then, let’s begin by ramping things up,” she says.

You feel the coils begin to tighten around you once more. You exhale as usual, creating a depression in your ribs that those muscular bands of serpent needs to cinch inwards. However, they don’t stop closing in. The coils squeeze tighter and tighter, almost crushing you with their titanic strength. You look at the clock hanging on the wall. It has been only ten seconds, but it feels like an eternity. When you felt like your ribs were beginning to bend, the pressure relents, and you greedily gulp down air.

”Don’t worry, that was just the warm up. You’ll get your money’s worth, I assure you,” the masseuse says.

Warm up? You're beginning to have second thought. However, before you can say anything, it feels like her coils slam into you for the next round of constriction, winding you almost instantly. Your chest it tight, but you can’t exhale as the coil around your neck it starting to squeeze too, trapping air in your throat. You feel like you’re going to burst as crushing coils fight against your air-filled lungs. The coil around your neck loosens, letting you shoot air out like a foghorn, before tightening again. A mere ten seconds has passed again, yet your vision begins to fill with patches of fuzzy pinpricks, like the kind you get when you rub your eyes a bit too hard when you’re tired. Your captor gives you yet another precious gulp of air.

”I suppose I can tell you that I’m not just tormenting you. This style of controlled constriction tricks the brain into thinking its oxygen-starved, letting it release a chemical that makes your nerves tingle and fill your head with euphoria,” she says before twisting her serpentine half around you once more.

You’re a bit thankful that there’s a method to her madness, but you don’t know how much more of this you could take. The coils surrounding you are unimaginably strong; you suspect she could squish your body instantly. Hell, they ripple with such intensity when they squeeze that you can HEAR it. The bones in your limbs dig into the pliable snake muscle as you’re selectively crushed, forming a full-body cast that evenly distributes the pressure across your body.

After a few rounds of this, you feel like you’re bordering on the edge of consciousness. Your muscles feel like lead with electricity coursing through them. You try to twitch in the masseuse’s grip, but it’s so tight and strong that you can’t even move an inch. You’ve been taking intermittent breathes, but your brain feels like it’s in a pleasant haze, as if you were drunk. It turns the grimaces you’ve been making into relaxed giggles as your body is brought to the brink of pulverization again and again. All the while, you feel the masseuse’s scales flowing all around you. Every little ridge, every little texture, the tremendous pressure smothers your body with her entire being...

...It’s the best thing you’ve ever felt, to be quite honest.

”Having fun yet?” The masseuse coyly asks, maneuvering her pony half in front of your face.

You try to answer, but the words are cut off in your throat as the coil around your neck closes in on your windpipe for another round.

”I can see that you’re handling the treatment well. You may feel weird now, but you will leave this spa with a body that feels like new,” she says. ”Your mind, however... well, we do make the hypnotherapy portion of the advanced treatment optional for customers due to the reluctance of many to completely and utterly give themselves over to a magical spell. It is very powerful, and has the potential to affect you deeply. I want you to be fully aware for your answer.”

Her coils slacken back to the tightness you felt in the intermediate treatment, letting you slough off more of your artificial inebriation with each greedy gulp of air.

”Take some time to think about it. If you do elect for it, you can also tell me suggestions to give you. Perhaps you have a hayburger habit that you’d like to break, or perhaps wanting to focus more at your job. It can be anything, we take customer confidentiality very seriously here.”

You take a moment to catch your breath, mentally bracing yourself. You figure that you've gone this far, so why not go all the way? However, you decide not to try any of the lingering mind alteration, even if you did have a few habits you wouldn't mind kicking.

”No suggestions? Alright, probably for the best for a first time then,” she says.

She bends down, getting close to your face. Very close. So close that your snouts touch. Your cheeks flush red, and you look at the point of contact where her silky smooth nose presses against your boxy muzzle.

”Hey, my eyes are up here,” she says.

You focus back on her, and her big, beautiful mare eyes almost encompass your entire vision. They seem so friendly and familiar, but the slit pupil gives a veneer of the exotic. Suddenly, her eyes begin to shimmer with a strange light. It’s chaotic at first, but then quickly forms into fuzzy rings of blues and purples. Your jaw falls as your face is bathed in a warm light, and you tilt your muzzle downwards to try to get a better look.

”Look deep into my eyes….and relaaaaaaaax...” She says in a hushed whisper.

Despite this, her seductive voice booms in your head, and the drawn out syllable just makes you shudder by some unimaginable force. You feel all the apprehension and tension from this whole ordeal drain from you like someone had poked a hole and let it flow out, leaving only a pleasant emptiness. A goofy smile forms on your lips as your own eyes begin to reflect the masseuse’s spell.

”Hmm, usually it takes more than a single word to bring a customer to total trance,” she says. “How do you feel?”

”Re...relaaaaaaxed,” you mutter in response, unable to think of anything other than her voice bouncing around your skull incessantly.

”Good then,” the masseuse says as she begins to pull away.

You lean forward as much as the coil around your neck will allow, impulsively not wanting to let those incomprehensibly beautiful eyes get further from you.

”Don’t worry, you’ll get your fill,” she says with a coy grin.

You can’t even notice it; your attention is entirely captivated by her eyes. They shine so brightly that the entire room shimmers with blue and purple. A fleeting thought supposes this was what that mysterious light you noticed earlier was, but it fades away almost instantly, going up in smoke like a flittering piece of confetti erupting into flames. You feel a heavy weight upon your head, and along the sides of your vision you see that her coil as curled around your skull like a bonnet. It slides forward and tightens, smushing your cheeks and forming a tight tunnel that only lets you see the masseuse’s face. Your living blinders might be pitch black, but their shininess makes them reflect her hypnotic light like a mirror, making your tunnel shimmer with endless pulses of cool light. Your mind, already shaky from the initial penetration of the spell, is now completely overwhelmed as it fills your entire vision. You can feel your thoughts burning away, leaving an empty-headed euphoria.

”There...all nice and relaxed...” she says.

Her coil covered your ears, but your hyper-focused state made you hear even the softest muffle as crystal clear.

”Now...to continue the advanced treatment...” she continues.

You feel the coils closing in again, squeezing your body with terrifying strength.

”Feel my coils around you...feel their strength...their power...feel the texture of my scales pressing into you...my muscles molding all around you...each sensation purges your body of negative energies...they tighter I squeeze...the emptier you feel...the more relaxed you feel...” she whispers.

Her voice rings in your head, getting louder and louder with each pulse of her mesmerizing rings.

Your body groans involuntarily as she forces air from your lungs with her constriction. But you don’t mind. You enjoy it. You have to. You cannot imagine otherwise. Each bout of constriction leaves you hungry for more as your body confuses the pressure with elation. With your inhibitions out of the way, she squeezes more tightly than ever before. You can feel your bones beginning to bend from the titanic force, but it stops just at the threshold of doing damage. You wouldn’t mind if she continued though, your empty head only interpreted more tightness as more pleasure. In your hyperfocused state, you can feel her seemingly on a molecular level. You can feel each scale slipping across individual strands of fur. You can feel the ripple and pinch of each muscle underneath her loose snakeskin.

She is all around you.

She is your world.

Your universe.

Nothing exists but you and her.

You are drowning in her hypnotic light...and you love every second of it. Your perception of time vanishes, leaving you to enjoy this state of total sublimity.

Until…

”Hmm, sadly our time seems to be coming to an end,” she says.

You simply stare dumbly, your brain having lost its capacity for any coherent thought long ago.

”Let’s bring you up and out of trance, shall we?” She coos, playfully poking your snout with her tail tip. Gradually, the pulsing in her eyes begins to slow down. At half intensity, you finally begin to stir as the faintest hints of thought are able to break from from the burning spell. ”Shh...continue to relax...slowly wake up...let it all come back….little by little...” she whispers.

At quarter speed, you begin to think again, slowly absorbing what just happened. You’re able to glance at the clock for a moment before focusing back on her eyes. Half an hour has passed, yet it felt like the blink of an eye. Eventually, the hypnotic light slows to a stop, before vanishing completely, and your eyes likewise return to normal as the last trace of her enthralling spell leaves you. The coils are loose around you, and she still has a segment acting as blinders so you can still see only her, framed by inky black scales.

”So, how was that for a first session?” She asks.

You tell her that you loved it. Or, at least you tried to tell her. Your speech is still a little broken and slurred, like you just woke up from a very deep nap.

”I’m glad. It makes me happy to know that a customer leaves fully satisfied. Don’t worry, what I did was essentially turned your mind off and on again to refresh it. Just give it some time to warm up,” she continues.

You breathe a sigh of relief as the coils that had once brought you to the point of suffocation loosen and fall in the water. Your numb body refuses to obey your command to stay standing, but the masseuse’s tail whipping around your midsection prevents you splashing face-first into the water. Like a construction crane, she hoists you out and lets your hanging limbs brush against the tile floor. Little by little, feeling returns to your limbs, and your hooves find footing. Her tail unwraps once you are fully able to stand, and brings over a nearby towel to help you dry off.

”We at the Ponyville Day Spa thank you for your patronage,” she says, cupping your chin with her snake tail to guide your to look at her.

A single pulse of glowing light flashes across her eyes.

”Do come again~” She adds with a cute wink.

You immediately feel tempted to book another visit, but you’re able to shake away the sensation once her silky scales unhand your muzzle. You thank her for her skill, and exit the door. As you are about to leave, you stop and turn back. You tell the masseuse that you never got her name.

”My name? Oh, it’s Calla, Calla Lily,” she replies warmly as she gets to work drying off her scales.

You thank her, tell her your name, and wish her a good evening. As you trot, you simply can’t believe how...fresh...your entire body feels. Each step feels like it has vigor and energy, and your mind hasn’t been this clear in who knows how long. You’re brimming with energy, and your mind, free of distractions, makes you see and appreciate many more details about what you’re seeing and hearing.

Back in the lobby, you notice the sun inching down, ushering in the night. The place is much more packed than when you arrived. Seems like you arrived at just the right time. You trot back to the receptionist as she finishes booking a white unicorn and a yellow pegasus pair.

”Ah, did you enjoy your treatment?” She asks you, tail tip wagging like a puppy.

You nod.

”Excellent. I’m glad that you opted for the advanced treatment. It truly is our specialty! We hope you enjoy your time in Ponyville, sir,” the receptionist says with a happy wave.

As you step out, you feel 100% ready to meet the night. Although, your vacation is a whole week...perhaps you can find to visit the spa one more time...or two...or three...

Desert Flower

The sun beats down on you heavily. Visit Klugetown they said, lots to see they said! You were having an alright time, until the “Desert Tour” decided to up and leave you once they discovered you didn’t have enough frags for the return trip. Not to mention that was after they ‘confiscated’ the rest of your belongings as partial payment. Not you’re out in the middle of the desert, with no food and water. You know you won’t last long out here. You're a pony, after all, actual nature is something you are NOT prepared to deal with. You first thought as a pegasus was that you could just fly back, but the heavy desert winds just blew you further away. Guess you should have listened to mom and worked out those flight muscles.

The wind just keeps on getting worse. Sand’s starting to pick up too. You can barely see. However, as you squint, you see that there’s a small rocky mountain in the distance. You use the wind to get there faster, hoping for shelter even as it carries you further away from civilization...if you could call the dump heap that is Klugetown ‘civilization’ that is. You find a crevasse to hide in. It’s still hot, and your throat is terribly parched, but at least you can ride out the sandstorm you think.

You step further inside, the gaps in the top of the crevasse providing enough light to see...barely, it still feels like night. As you venture deeper into the crevasse, the sound of the wind gets further and further. However, now you can hear something else. Sounds like something heavy shifting over sand…and...was that hissing?

As if to dismiss the hissing, you hiss back, a bit annoyed at the whole situation. As soon as you do so, there’s a sudden stillness, followed by the shifting and sliding motion suddenly rapid...and getting closer. Your heart skips a beat, and you hide behind a nearby rocky outcrop just as you could see the faintest blur come into view. As you cower, the shifting stops once more.

You can hear it slowly approaching. Involuntarily, you let out a small whinny of fear. The shifting stops again. Whatever it is surely heard you.

Suddenly, a sweet, gentle voice fills the air. ”Hello? Is somecreature there?” It says.

It sounds like a normal mare, but you’re still too scared to take a look.

”H-hello...” you manage to squeak out from behind your rock.

”Who are you? You can come on out. I won’t hurt you...well, unless you make me,” the voice replies.

You can sense both curiosity and apprehension in her voice. You’re still scared still, but as you mull over your options, you feel the sand beneath you rise strangely. Suddenly it explodes, and you feel something long and thick loop around your midsection, pinning both your wings and forelegs. You feel your whole body whipped out into the open, and your hindlegs kick in the air as you are suspended.

You finally have a good look at your captor. She looks like a typical mare, with golden yellow fur and a relatively short, curly orange mane. Her green eyes are slit, like a batpony’s, but this isn’t the most unusual feature. That would be her massive serpent tail that explodes from just below her midsection. It’s a light gray with darker gray spots in a blotchy arrangement, so smooth that even in the little light in the crevasse reflects off its surface. It’s massive and thick, and definitely holds the lion’s share of her mass. It’s even hard to estimate how long she is. As you follow her tail with your eyes, you see that it submerged itself as a point, and you can see that the end that came out was poking out of the sand. You shudder at how tremendously strong that tail must be to be able to swim through sand like it was water. Yet, the pair of coils that grip you keep a gentle hold, but one that’s strong enough that you’re not sure you could struggle out of.

You might though...if you try…

As you ponder you options, the monstrous mare speaks.

”Oh, a pony!?” She says with genuine surprise. “What are you doing out here? This place is inhospitable to four-legses.”

You explain your story to her, without leaving out any details.

”Oof, yeah, those Klugetowners are really something, huh? Thankfully, they hardly ever stumble around these parts. Enough of that, though. I have water, and a bit of food too if you’re hungry. Come on, let’s go to the kitchen,” she says, setting you down with her coils.

She unwinds most of them from around you, however, she keeps one wrapped loosely around your neck. As she begins to slither back down the crevasse, you follow her. You don’t really have much choice unless you want to get rid of this living leash. Although, it does feel cool and comfortable, and it helps you deal with your overheated body by sapping heat from your blood as it runs into your brain.

The crevasse opens up into a wider area, with a few piles of pillows all around and a couple of shelves filled with books lining the rock walls. You don’t spend much time here, as she continues to lead you down one of the offshoot paths budding from that room. You eventually reach another room, smaller than the last but still spacious enough for your host to comfortable curl her entire length. It’s much more bare; there’s a single shelf stuffed with sacks, a small clay stove with a pot on top, and a small pool of crystal clear water, with a small stream trickling down from an opening in the rock.

”Don’t worry, the spring is clean. I covered the bottom with rocks so that the sand stays out of it too,” she says.

You eagerly trot over and begin to drink. The water is absolutely delicious, and you drink for what feels like ages.

”I don’t usually have guests, but you’ll need to stay until the sandstorm subsides. To go out there right now would be suicide. There’s a pony outpost about a day’s journey north of here. They’ll be able to get you back home. Sorry about your bits and other things though; I’d say it’s not worth going back to Klugetown for them,” she says.

You finally feel hydrated, and raise your head to face the lamia once more. You finally notice that her tail is still around your neck for some reason.

”So, um, I guess we should get comfortable with each other while we wait it out. It could take a day or two, but don’t worry, I have some regular food. I don’t keep much since most of my meals come from catching desert beasts, but a well rounded diet keeps the scales healthy, you know?”

You don’t know. She grins awkwardly.

”I also have a lot of books you can read to pass the time. Sorry, it’s just that ever since I left Silver Shoals back in Equestria, I haven’t really had many guests, so I’m a bit unprepared. By the way, I never introduced myself. I’m Sand Song, but you can call me Sandy for short,” she says.

You ask her what made her come to a place like this.

”Oh, well, isn’t it obvious? I’m a lamia,” she says. “I guess it’s not so much me moving out here, but more like returning. My sister and I both moved to Silver Shoals when we were younger. Us lamias usually live in dry, desolate places like this, so we wanted to try the pony way of life. For a while, things were alright, we made friends, and we were pretty happy.”

She sighs and looks forlorn.

”But, as time went on, I really started to notice things. Moms would hug their foals tight when I slithered by, shopkeepers would avoid eye contact when I bought things, it was tough for me to find steady work, all because of what I was. My sister is a hardy type, she just brushes all that stuff off, but it got to me that I wasn’t wanted by anypony except the friends I had. I didn’t want to just hypnotize them to like me, even though I totally could have. So, I did some research, packed up, and set out for a place that was more natural for my kind. My sister tried to get me to stay, but I just didn’t feel like I belonged. So, I said goodbye to her, packed up what I could, and headed for a place that was more natural for my kind...”

She pauses for a moment. While she’s lost in thought, your thoughts turn to the tail around your neck. It feels strange, yet oddly cozy, cool and silky against your fur, giving it an amount of weight that seems to relax you. You go to move your hoof towards it, but stop at the last second.

Sand Song, however, notices your motion.

”Oh, sorry!” She says, quickly unwinding from your neck. “It’s just that it’s been so long since I’ve coiled anypony. My friends used to let me do it to them all the time. It just feels so nice, wrapping my cold-blooded scales around a warm-blooded creature you doesn’t try to kill me, and I it.”

You assure her that you didn’t mind, and in fact, were really enjoying it too.

”R-really?” She says, cheeks flushing red as she does so. “W-well, let me put it back then.”

The tail wraps around your neck once more, giving a gentle squeeze before it begins to slither around, adding a second, thicker coil that presses down on your withers as it grasps the base of your throat, where it meets your midsection. It’s a bit heavier, but you’re a strong stallion. You thank her for it.

”Oh, you’re welcome,” she says, and for a moment you catch a hint of a smile behind her sullen face.

The two of you are silent for a while, and your eyes begin to awkwardly shift around. To break the silence, you ask her what kinds of books she likes.

”Whatever I can get my coils on, usually,” she says. “Don’t have much choice around here, so I take what I can get. On days when I’m feeling really brave, and the temperature isn’t too bad, I slither up to the pony settlement I told you about earlier and see if they have anything for me. Sometimes they do, sometimes they don’t. It’s still nice to visit them, they don’t shy away from me like others have. I can show you what I have, though, just in case you find something you like. I mean, you’re going to need to stay until the sandstorm subsides, at least,” she continues. “Or, if you’re hungry, I could make you some food. I got...hay...and nuts...”

She takes a look back at the shelf

”And a few other things. Sometimes I forget what I have since I don’t eat that stuff very often. It’s all nonperishable, so it should still be good. I miss having a fridge, though. It was tough readjusting to a more natural lifestyle. I had to make that oven out of clay, and burn tumbleweeds for heat.”

However, you're not really paying attention to her talk. You realize this might be a bit foolish, but you really want to make sure that she knows you don’t mind. Plus, if you establish dominance, then she might follow your lead while you’re together. You look straight into her deep purple eyes, right into the widening slits. You take the portion of her tail spooling off of you and scoop it up with your forelegs. Her tail started off thin, but this portion had grown to be very wide, and very dense. You have to struggle to lift it up, groaning as you do so, but you eventually hoist it up and tos it around onto your back, making yet a third loop around you. At the sight of this, Sand Song’s cheeks turn a little red, and a single pulse of glowing orange light extends outwards from her pupils. You’re not sure what that was, but you suddenly feel a bit more comfortable and relaxed. At least, you think, you were already really cozy in this strange lamia mare’s presence to begin with. However, the sudden surge of lightheadedness makes your forelegs buckle under the impressive weight of the coils on you. You fall onto your elbows, but the sand floor absorbs your force and the landing is painless.

”Oh no! I’m sorry!” Sandy says, quickly cinching the coils around you for a solid grip and lifting you back up onto your hooves. You can feel the serpentine muscle flex all around you, now supporting both its weight and your effortlessly. ”I forget how heavy I am sometimes,” she says with a nervous laugh. “Don’t worry, it’s all muscle.”

She smiles and winks at you, and for a brief instant, you can see past the barrier she had erected towards others. However, this disappears as quickly as it had come, and her usual nervous face returns.

”So, um, I guess I could coil you, if you really wanted it,” she says. “Have you ever felt what it’s like?”

You shake your head no.

”I figured. Lamias are a rare sight in Equestria,” she continues. “Well, it’s like a really big hug, but better. You’ll see.”

You try to step forward, but it’s pretty hard to walk with the incredibly bulky tube hanging dwn in front of the top of your foregs. Suddenly, she moves the coil down and cinches it, pinning your forelegs to you midsection. You’re still standing, but your entire frontal weight is supported by Sand Song’s white and grey splotchy snake tail while your entire lower half is still supported by your hind legs. It’s a weird sensation, like you’re leaning on a cart, but you can’t complain.

”We could do it here, but this place doesn’t give a lot of space. It would make cooking a meal easier if you get hungry, though. Or, we can go back to my living room and get cozy on all the pillows. Or...” she says slyly, “...I can show you the sand pit. You know an antlion trap? It’s kind of like that, except my snake tail is at the bottom. I often use it to trap dangerous prey, that I’ve lured back here, but I think we can use it recreationally!”

As much as you’d love to start spooling the rest of Sand Song’s chunky snake tail around you, you refrain. After all you’re a visitor, you don’t want to come off TOO strong. However, you do make a mention of the flash that crossed her eyes.

”Oh, did I do that? Sorry, I didn’t mean too,” she says. “I mentioned being able to hypnotize others earlier, right? It’s a power us lamias have. We can’t cast magic like a unicorn can, but we do possess the ability to mesmerize others with our mind. It’s mostly used for hunting, but it does work on ponies. It’s actually really nice, or at least my old friends would tell me that when they asked me to hypnotize them.”

She scratches the back of her head with her hoof. You add that she should do it again, and that you don’t mind.

”P-perhaps I can show you how it works later, maybe. It’s a little intense, and it requires a lot of trust. I just met you, and I’m not sure you’d be totally comfortable being COMPLETELY in my power,” she adds with a nervous chuckle.

You pout a bit, but then turn the conversation back to the coiling, and mention that you’d like to see the sand pit.

”Sure! Let me lead you there,” Sand Song says, turning around and going back down the path to the living room.

She doesn’t unwind from you, still keeping you in that awkward position where your forelegs and pinned but your hind legs aren’t. However, you find that she perfectly matches your movements, and you can trot comfortably with just your hind legs alone. Something about feeling almost totally supported by her powerful yet gentle coils gives you a great sense of inner peace and intimacy, despite only knowing her for like an hour. She leads you back to the room with all the pillows, before turning down another crack that offshoots from the main room. This one quickly opens up into a wide, empty space. The far end is fairly wide opening to the outside, but not wide enough that it doesn’t stop most of the sandstorm from getting in. In the center is a large, conic depression in the sand, like an antlion trap you’ve read about in Equestrian Geographic, except much wider in scale.

”Here my sand pit, I dug it out myself,” Sand Song says, finally winding her tail from around you. You feel somewhat naked without those cool, cozy coils gripping your upper body, but you don’t complain. ”I made the sand pretty loose inside to trap prey that I can’t hypnotize. You’d be surprised how weird the beasts out here get, but they’re still tasty,” she adds.

She dives into the sand, effortlessly disappearing into it like she was diving into water. More and more of her serpentine body follows after her, and you can see the faintest impression of her as she swims through the sand. Just as the end of her snake tail passes by, it hooks onto your rump and pushes you forward into the trap. The sand is loose, and it’s tough to find footing as you find yourself slowly sliding down towards the center. Out of the corner of your vision, you see Sand Song’s pony half pop up out of the sand.

”Let’s play a game! See if you can escape the trap. If you can’t, well, my tail will be waiting for you at the bottom,” she says with a playful giggle.

Craning your head around, you see the end of her serpentine tail emerge and writhe around the deepest point of the trap, obviously making more and more sand fall with its motions.

As you continue sliding slowly towards the bottom, Sand Song yells “And remember, no flying!”

As you slide further and further towards the wiggling bundle of scales, a part of you just wants to relax to slide down and let them claim you. However, the competitive pegasus spirit compels you to conquer the lamia’s trap. You think for a moment, and then suddenly remember reading about traps like these in a magazine article, which also mentioned how to escape them. The trick is to move sideways rather than try to claw your way out. You spread your limbs and begin to shimmy to the left. You find that, while the footing is still loose, you’re able to step more solidly than if you tried to climb straight up. By the time you’ve kicked sand downwards, you’ve moved on forward. You slowly gain momentum as increased speed makes the slippage less of an issue, compounding your success. Even your wings give you extra balance and speed as you use them to give you a little extra thrust, giving you a definite edge.

It takes some time, but you’re able to inch up more and more in the sand pit. At times, you glance at Sand Song’s face, her expression shifts between being surprised, and a furrowed brow of unmistakable determination. You notice the coils double their thrashing not too long after you see the latter. Still, this is a trap for beasts, and you’re a clever pony. By the time you get close to the top, you’re exhausted, but can definitely make it.

But...you look down at Sand Song’s tail as it curls around.

It moves with such dexterity, such strength, such precision…

You remember just how good it felt around you, melting every inch it touched with its gentle grip.

You realize...you don’t want to win…

You fake a trip, and stumble almost all the way down the trap. You stop not long above the bottom, but you paw at the sand above you to make yourself sink all the way. Like a praying mantis, Sandy’s coils snatch you instantly as you fall within their range, winding you with just how much force they’re capable of. They roll all around you, not bothering to arrange themselves in neat loops. You’re half submerged in sand, with the coils moving through it like it was water. They feel predatory, like their only purpose is gripping their prey and crushing them. Indeed, they’re gripping much firmly than before, but you’re still able to breathe without too much difficulty. It’s a sublime feeling, to fall into the clutches of a mighty serpent. You close your eyes to enjoy the feeling as a thick segment wraps around your skull, blindfolding you. Suddenly, you feel the sand explode all around you as you’re hoisted up, still almost smothered in Sand Song’s silky smooth scales.

You feel the entire bundle move outward from the center of the trap, finally hovering in midair. It turns, leaving you upside down. Gravity rips away the coil around your skull, revealing Sand Song’s face close to yours. She's...smirking?

”...You let me win,” she says snidely.

You insist that you didn’t, that you were simply exhausted and made a misstep, and then panicked at the bottom.

”Don’t lie, I’m a huntress. I know when my prey is caught and when it’s going to get away. You had only a couple feet left to go. You could have even just jumped and been able to pull yourself up to the top of the trap,” she says, eyes furrowing. ”So the question is, why?”

Her smirk makes you suspect she knows exactly why.

”Did you want to make me feel good about winning? Or...did you want to submit to the sublime pleasure that only the embrace of my coils can bring?” She says, turning her head so that she’s only looking at your with one eye.

You’re unable to stop your blush and awkward smile, despite your insistence to the contrary.

”Hmm, well, I’ll have you know that I don’t like liars,” Sand Song replies curtly.

You feel the mass of serpentine muscle around you suddenly loosen, and you begin to fall. Once you’re halfway out, they cinch again, stopping your fall.

”After all, it requires a certain amount of trust for me to be okay with coiling you, despite their strength, they’re still quite delicate. A single bite or scratch of a claw could leave a wound that could put me out of commission for some time. Ponies are less dangerous, but the same principle remains,” she goes on.

The coils loosen again, and you fall almost all the way out. You’re hanging upside down, gripped only by your bony lower hind legs, forelegs dangling freely.

”So tell me, why should I trust you if you’re so willing to lie to me, someone you’ve just met?” She says, turning back to you with a cruel-looking smirk on her face.

As if you tempt you further, her tail tip finds its way to your hind legs, curling and uncurling around them. You ask her what happens if you ARE dangerous? After all, pegasi have warrior heritage. You could pounce on her at any moment!

”Seems like you already have,” she says, a bit unamused. “A wiser pony wouldn’t just try to wrangle coils capable of crushing them instantly. At least, not before getting to know their owner better.”

Her tail loosens again, and now you’re being held up by a single loop around one of your hind hooves.

”Last chance,” she says

Your defiant face crumbles, and you sigh deeply. You stretch out your forelegs to her and look deeply into her eyes. You tell her that you were just playing around and only want a hug.

Sand Song sighs, before looking at you with a warm smile. ”Well, I suppose that’s a good enough reason. All you had to do was ask, though,” she says.

Her tail hoists you up higher, and beneath you Sand Song spools the middle of her coils into a cylinder shape. She drops you into the center, and they cinch around you just as your head passes through the other end. The force winds you, but it eases up to gently grip you once you’re in place. You are now coiled neck to hind-hoof in Sand Song’s thickest portions of her serpentine body, so thick that there are only three loops around you, and the top one still presses up against your jaw to cradle your head. All around you, scales twitch back and forth, caressing your fur with their unique texture. Your limbs can move not even an inch as her gel-like snake muscle molds along your contours, making a living cast of your body.

”Are you happy now?” Sand Song says.

You nod, or, at least, try to; the coil cradling your head provides immense resistance to any head motion.

Sand Song giggles at the sight. ”Good, I’m happy too,” she continues. “I had forgotten what it’s like to have a pony completely in my coils, especially a pegasus such as yourself. Your feathers feel really nice on my scales.”

Sand Song closes her eyes and sighs in bliss as you try to flutter your wings within their scaly confines.

”Still, we’re not done yet,” she says, still reveling in the sensation. “How tight do you want it? Don’t tell me ‘As tight as you can make it’ because I wasn’t lying about being able to crush you instantly. My coils are over a foot thick of solid muscle, and ponies are so delicate that I could skip the constriction and go straight for the bone breaking.”

She’s not lying; even though her coils are gentle now, you can sense the sheer strength beneath her loose snakeskin. You take a moment to think about your preference. However, you do mention that the coils are a bit restrictive, and it would be nice to be able to move your forelegs and wings.

”Oh, right, let me just...” Sand Song says.

You feel her coils heaving all around you, and she creates a gap right below the thick loop holding your neck and upper barrel. You’re able to wiggle your forelegs and wings free, extending them over the coil surrounding your lower chest and belly. The coils gently close, loosely smushing your outstretched limbs in between two bands of coil chub. You’re able to casually use both your forelegs and your wings to rub back and forth, much to Sand Song’s obvious enjoyment.

”Oooh, that feels so nice...there’s really nothing like the sensation of feeling my scales being rubbed...I’ve missed it...” she says, with her eyes closed in pure revelry. After a few more sighs of bliss, she opens her eyes and stares at you with half-lidded snake eyes. ”Hey, I’m not holding you too tightly, right? I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable,” she whispers.

You tell her not at all, and that it feels very nice. Sand Song smiles and nods in affirmation. However, you also ask her if she’s enjoying this too.

”Oh yes, it’s divine,” she affirms. “...But...”

But?

”Well...my friends used to love being squeezed tightly. They used to tell me that it straightens out their spine and makes their joints pop to relieve tension. Plus, I kind of liked it too...closing in around their bodies like a vice...listening to the cute sounds they’d make...seeing that adorable shade of blue flush their face...” She says, staying off wistfully into space before catching herself. “N-not to imply that I was hurting them! They used to ask me to do that stuff, and I’d always stop just before it actually got dangerous.”

You say that you don’t mind, and may even like to see what it’s like yourself.

”Well, alright, but let’s start slow, okay?” Sand Song says.

You feel her coils ripple all around you, suddenly coming to life as the powerful muscles begin to press inward on your body.

”Let’s start with some basic constriction. Every time you breathe out, I’ll close in a teensy bit more. Just focus on maximizing your breathing, and tell me if you suddenly get uncomfortable,” she continues.

You take a deep breath, only to notice that something is stopping you just short of doing so. Your chest has to fight to expand to its maximum, and you hold the breath as much as possible before exhaling. You feel the coils shift again. Your next breath is just a tiny bit shallower, hardly noticeable if you weren’t paying attention. Exhale, and another ripple of muscle all around you. They don’t even really feel like they’re closing in, just that they seem to be slithering around you in a corkscrew, inch by inch. You don’t mind, that just means there’s more for your forelegs and wings to rub. The process happens slowly, and you and Sand Song make idle smalltalk. After ten minutes, though, you suddenly notice that it’s significantly harder to expand your lungs, and you feel like they’re only operating at half capacity. You still feel like you’re getting enough oxygen though; as a pegasus, your lungs have supplemental air sacs that increase their efficiency to power flight. You’re comfortable, but it feels like Sand Song was only just beginning. The pressure, however, definitely has an odd relaxing effect on you. Your muscles feel like they’re just melting under her constricting touch, and you imagine that she’d have no trouble finding a career as a masseuse back home in Equestria. You coo in your relaxative stupor, only to find that it comes out as a bit of a hiss from the pressure on your windpipe.

”How are you feeling? I can stop if you want, or is it okay if I go even tighter?” Sand Song asks.

You tell her that you’re fine, and that you want even more.

”Alright, just be sure not to ‘snap under pressure’ on me,” Sand Song says with a wink.

More and more you feel her grip on you intensify. Your breathing becomes shallower and shallower as Sand Song unrelentingly squeezes your equine form. Air fails to become the real issue, though, as you notice your hind legs begin to feel numb and prickly. Her coils are squeezing so tightly that they’re cutting off circulation. Even your forelegs and wings, despite not being directly bound, soon start to feel similarly. Your affectionate caressing slows and eventually halts due to the inability of your limbs to obey your commands. The think, meaty loop around your neck constricts less than the rest of her, but you still struggle to get air down, and you can feel the heavy thump of your pulse pounding in your jugulars.

...You ask her if she prefers green tea or coffee.

”Well, I don’t really prefer either, but if I had to choose, probably green tea,” Sand Song says, still speaking to you as though crushing you in her serpentine embrace was the most normal thing in the world.

You croak out a few more responses while you can. You can feel your spine straighten under the intense pressure, popping as Sand Song works out the bends with her unimaginable strength. The soreness in your withers that you’ve had for the past few days is gone, though you’re not sure if it’s because she fixed the kink or if the lack of circulation was leaving your body numb to it. Still, her coils close in. Their advance has slowed, but each millimeter that take from your rib cage’s expansion feels like a tremendous battle. One that you know you can’t win...

Eventually, you go a few more breaths without noticing the pressure increasing. You feel like you’re teetering on the edge of consciousness, but muster the willpower to ask Sand Song what’s up.

”That’s the tightest I’ve ever gone with my old friends,” Sand Song says. “You’re taking it like a champ though, I’m impressed.”

She leans into your face, until all you can see are her big, beautiful slit mare eyes. Your noses are just millimeters from touching.

”...Do you want to go even further?” She whispers.

It may be foolish, but the defiant look on your face shows your bravery...or stupidity.

”R-really? Wow,I don’t know,” Sand Song says.

She seems to test the waters with a few more squeezes. However, at this level, they begin to cause you to wince from pain. Your bones feel like they’re bending, and your hips feel like they’re about to cut into your skin from the inside out. You try to maintain a stoic face, but Sand Song is able to sense your discomfort.

”I...I don’t think I can,” she says, backing off a bit. “I don’t want to hurt you...”

Her voice trails off.

”...Actually, there might be a way,” she whispers.

She moves her pony half close to yours yet again. You can feel her solft, velvety snout press up against your own, and her pretty eyes encompass your entire vision. Your didn’t think your heart rate could rise even more. Suddenly, her eyes start to glaze over, whitening. A deep, dark purple ring, similar to what you’d see from a blacklight, pluses outward from the center of each eye, followed by another, and another…The black rings shimmer with purple pinpricks, like they were made of infinitely many sparkling amethysts. You’ve never seen anything like it, and you are instantly captivated.

”Look deeply into my eyes...look deep and relax….relax…” she whispers. You feel a warm sensation creeping over your whole body, making your tensed up body completely loosen as it spreads. Your shallow breathing slows down, and your heartrate lowers quickly. You just feel...so incredibly relaxed…

Is this the magic of the lamias that you’ve heard rumors about? You try to say something, but your relaxed jaw doesn’t obey your commands.

”Listen to my voice...you can feel my coils all around you...they hold you...grasp you...own you...feel them closing in...tighter...tighter...” Sand Song continues, the rings in her eyes picking up intensity, and you can almost hear her voice as more and more booming in your head.

You can feel the coils close in again, except there’s no pain at all this time.

”Tighter...Squeeze..Consssstrict...You love it...” she whispers, yet it feels like she’s talking right into your ear.

You do indeed love it, but you can barely focus on it due to your whole attention being captured by her enchanting eyes. You do, however, feel like each square inch of your body is supporting 1000 lbs. of pressure. You can’t even begin to imagine how you can even bear this incredible sense of being crushed without your bones splintering. But, you don’t care, you can’t get enough of it!

”Constricting….squishing….crushing...you’re helpless against their might, the coils are your world...submit to their embrace...submit to them...” she coos.

Your whole body feels like a bug under a hoof. The pressure is so intense you feel like you’re going to pop...like you’re physically merging with her snake skin. Your eyes almost roll back into your head from the sheer ecstasy from being pulverized. You can feel her breaking you, even though you can’t hear the snapping of bones. You feel pencil thin, and you feel like there’s no way your body could come back from this.

You don’t care, though.

You can’t breathe.

You can’t think.

You can only lay back and be loved by Sand Song’s powerful serpentine body, for what feels like will be the last time.

”So tight...so relaxed...so...happy...” she whispers.

You have become numb, blind, and deaf to everything but her. She closes her eyes, but the damage has been done. She moves her head up and kisses your forehead.

”Now...sleep...” she whispers.

Instantly, your eyes close, and you fall into a deep dreamless sleep.

…

Your eyes flutter open, and you blink the blurriness out of your eyes.

You find yourself loosely enlaced in Sand Song’s coils, with another one half looped around the back of your head to act as a pillow. You head pivots around, and you realize that you’re in her living room with all the bookshelves and the pillows. You try moving your limbs, to gauge the damage. You find that, though they feel like lead, they seem perfectly functional, at least, in the loose confines of your coil cocoon. You turn your head around in the other direction, and spy Sand Song resting on a pillow with an open book in front of her. She doesn’t seem to have noticed your waking up

You are just so completely and utterly relaxed that you don’t want this moment to end. You close your eyes, trying to fall back asleep, but to little avail. Sand Song’s coils are twenty times more comfortable than your bed back home though, so you laze around for like another thirty minutes. Eventually, though, Sand Song notices that you’re awake.

”Sounds like somepony’s awake,” Sand Song says, placing a bookmark in her book and using her tail tip to put it back on one of the shelves. She slithers her pony half over to you. ”Right on time, in fact,” she says. “Sorry for springing my hypnosis on you like that. I didn’t think I could go any tighter without hurting you, so I just hypnotized you to feel like you were being squished. I hope you don’t mind.”

You shake your head, you certainly didn’t. The details are fuzzy, but you remember feeling awash with utter bliss. With just a few words, Sand Song had made you feel like you were being crushed to death. But in a wonderful way, somehow. It’s kind of scary once you think about it, but you suspect that if Sand Song wanted to actually hurt you, you’d already be a bulge in her snake tail.

”Well, I’m glad,” Sand Song continues. “It’s been a while since I hypnotized a pony. My old friends used to really like it. I know it must feel wonderful, and let me tell you, my house kept pretty clean when I could simply order them to tidy up. When each action sends wave after wave of euphoria, they didn’t complain that I was getting free maid service out of the deal.”

Sand Song places a hoof to her mouth, giggling as she reminisces.

”Don’t worry, I let you sleep the night away. I’m pretty good at estimating how long one of my inductions will last, so I timed it for sunrise. The sand storm is gone, and now would be the best time to make our way to that outpost I mentioned yesterday,” she says.

”But first, you’ll need to get some strength. I don’t have much, but I managed to fry some hay for breakfast for you. I don’t usually have guests, so I broke out my bottle of vegetable oil for this one!” She adds in a tone that makes you think she wants to impress you.

In actuality, it sounds pretty bland, but you feign excitement. You go to get up, but you still feel like you weigh 1000lbs.

”Oh no, relax,” Sand Song says as her loose coils begin to organize themselves into loops around you. “Your brain is still rebooting from my spell. Let me take care of everything.”

She begins to slither back into the kitchen, having the length to comfortably move despite having you wrapped up from neck to hind hoof. It’s actually pretty nice, the subtle shifting of her coils caresses your fur, and you get a clear view of the purple morning sky from the top of the crevasse. In the kitchen, you turn your head to see a little fire burning in the clay stove, and Sand Song using her tail to grab a simply iron fork to pull out some fried hay and put it on a plain ceramic plate. Still keeping you loosely bound, her coils raise up so that you’re vertical again, and she carries the plate with her hooves over to you while her tail tip holds the fork. She uses the fork to grab some of the soggy-looking hay and hovers it right in front of your mouth.

”Open wiiiide,” she says.

You blow on it a few times to cool the hay, band let her place it into your mouth. It’s not disgusting, but you’ll admit that you’ve had better. A LOT better. You still fake a smile and tell her it’s good.

”That’s a relief. I cook only rarely, so sometimes it’s hard for me to remember exactly what to do. Still, having this in your belly will make the trip that much easier. It’s one thing to carry you in my coils around my home, it’s another to carry you in my coils across miles and miles of sand dunes,” she says. “Don’t worry about me, I’m still digesting a Wildeboar I caught last week. I don’t know if you noticed a slight bulge in my tail earlier. He’s almost all done though, so you probably didn’t. Once I get you dropped off, I’ll probably go on the hunt again, just to see if I can find something substantial while I’m out and about.”

She gingerly presses another clump of overcooked hay to your lips, which you take with little protest.

”I was thinking we could head out before the desert has a chance to warm up. If we leave right after we get you fed and watered, we should make it to the outpost around noon. It’ll be hot, but I have a canteen that we can fill with springwater. That’ll more than last us on the journey. What do you think?” She asks.

Hearing her talk about traveling to the outpost so you can get home makes your heart sink. It seems like you only just met her. Besides, your vacation was still scheduled to last a few more days. You're pretty needed at your job, but they won't be angry if you come back a day or two later than planned. You can always tell your boss you got mugged. After all, you wouldn't be lying! You tell Sand Song that you can stay for a couple more days, and even help her hunt!

"Oh gosh, I'm so flattered that you want to stay," she says, giving you a nice full body squeeze of affection. "Sure, I mean, it's not like I have the pleasure of company often. I'm not so sure about helping me hunt, though. The beasts of this land are dangerous, and, well, even my old friends have remarked that it's pretty freaky when I swallow something whole."

You're still adamant. You'll cross that bridge when you come to it.

"Well, if you insist, I guess I could take you out and show you how I hunt. Just be aware that life can be pretty rare in this desert, and sometimes it takes days of searching before I even find something, let alone catch it," Sand Song says.

You finish your hay and Sand Song briefly rinses the pot, plate, and fork in her tiny spring, also taking the moment to fill up a canteen that she had off to the side. She uncoils you, much to your dislike, and you follow her out of the crevasse that she's made into a home. The sun has just barely risen above the horizon, and the air is still cool. You see Sand Song shivering in the brisk air.

"It's fine, the air heats up really quickly," she says, slithering off towards a sand dune.

You follow in tow, taking to the air. It strains your body less than trying to trot over loose sand, but you still hang close to the ground to not give out your position. The pair of you roam for hours, at first enjoying the warming air, but soon getting real tired of it as it continued to heat up to uncomfortable levels. Sand Song lets you drink from the canteen liberally.

"Don't worry, my body is adapted to retain water. These scales keep it all inside," my says, smaking her coils.

Still, you wander, and wander, and wander. By the early afternoon, you notice that the canteen is down to about a quarter of its capacity.

"Hmm, we should probably turn back. That amount of water should last us until we get back to my home, if we head straight there. Just let me peek over this sand dune," she says.

Sand Song gingerly pokes her head over the crest of the dune, wholly not expecting to see anything. However, her eyes widen and her head dips back down.

"Shh, don't make any sudden movements, but there's a Mngwa on the other side of this dune," she whispers.

A what?

"A Mngwa, it's a type of desert cat, kind of like a lion crossed with a hyena crossed with a zebra," she says whiles she gestures at you to peek over the crest of the dune. Sure enough, you see some sort of big cat looking then with stripes and a hair crest in between its arched shoulderblades.

You ask her what should you do

"Well, when I see dangerous prey like that, I bury myself in the sand and strike IF it passes over me. It's a big IF, but there's no way I can simply overpower something like that in a fight. In an ambush strike, yeah, the poor thing is loses before it even knows it, but that's my only real option," Sand Song says.

You ask what you should do.

"You should probably move a few dunes over, and be ready to take to the air if it sees you, your big mission is staying safe," Sand Song says as she splays herself out.

With a few wiggles of her coils, she sinks into the sand, burying her pony half as well. How she can still see eludes you, but you suppose that now's not the time to ask. However, you do take a moment to think about what you should do in this sort of situation.

...

Of course, listening to Sand Song would have been the SMART thing to do. However, you were never a clever pony. Rather than carefully backing off, you take to the sky.

"Wait!" Sand Song shouts, raising her pony half above the sand for a moment. However, quickly reburies herself.

You soar through the air, and the attentive Mngwa spots you. You see it getting into a striking stance, but it relaxes when it sees that you're flying high. You hover closer to the ground, but not within range of the Mngwa's claws. It paces towards you, eyes looked on the delicious pegasus teasing it. Through some baiting manuevers, you're able to lure it over the crest of the dune and right over Sand Song is buried. Just as the Mngwa looks up as you pass above it, the ground underneath its paws explodes. You can't see from the huge amount of sand that's been thrown into the air. You stay airborne, looking concerned as the sand slowly disappates. Soon, though, you're able to see the Mngwa completely wrapped in Sand Song's coils, with only its long, feline tail free to writhe around. A few of its paws are visible, but all it can do is retract and extend its claws in a futile effort to fight against Sand Song's immobilizing might.

"Hmm, that was a really dangerous stunt you pulled. These things can leap like freaks. It was ready to pluck you out of the air if I hadn't sturck when I did," she says.

You tell her that you were concerned for her safety too.

"MY safety? Oh, sweetie...I won the instant it stepped on my buried tail," she replies with a giggle. "However...now comes the 'less than savory' part. Since you're an herbivore, you might want to avert your gaze while I finish and devour it. I don't want you getting sick on me."

You decide to avert your eyes, both out of respect and not wanting to be sickened. The Mngwa roars get weaker and weaker, finally falling silent. You can hear the intense stretching noises as Sand Song's massive coils squeeze with abandon.

However, soon it gets quiet.

Then, you hear gulping.

You have half a mind to cover your ears, but you can't help but listen intently. You bite your lip, an any other context, this would sound extremely lewd. Even in this context it still does. You've never really been into the whole 'vore' thing, but the thought of being swallowed briefly croses your mind. Still, it's over in an instant. Now's not the time for such things. You can't help but sneak a quick glance, only to spy half of the Mngwa hanging outside of Sand Song's mouth, while her pony half bulges grotesquely. You avert your eyes again, trying not to be sick. You still like Sand Song, but you can't help but think of her more as a fierce predator now that you've seen what she's capable of.

The gulping continues for what feels like an hour, with you sipping away at the canteen as the hot sun beats down upon your withers. Finally, the noises stop.

"There, you can look now," Sand Song says.

You turn back to her to see her pony half looking back to normal, while a large Mngwa-sized bulge inches down her serpentine body. She pats it with her hoof, obviously proud of her skills. You don't know whether you should be sick or impressed.

"Alright, this bad boy will keep me satisfied for two weeks, maybe even three," Sand Song says.

You just nod nervously.

"...Sorry, maybe it was a bad idea to take you out hunting," she says. "Let's just get home, alright?"

The two of you make a beeline back to her crevasse, making idle small talk that has a hint of awkwardness as you both try to pretend she didn't just devour a huge beast. You return just as the canteen runs dry, and you trot to the kitchen for a long drink of water. When you return to the living room, you see Sand Song lounging on pillows like she's ready to fall asleep.

"Sorry, I get pretty lethargic after a big meal. Once digestion kicks in and I start extracting energy from it, I can keep going, but that takes a while usually," Sand Song says, laying back on a mound of plush velvet

You give Sand Song's pony half a warm hug, with she lazily returns.

"Mmm...I give hugs so often with my coils that sometimes I forget how nice it is to recieve then," she says with a giggle.

You ask her if she'd like a rubdown of her tail.

"Really? You'd do that...oh gosh, I'd love it," she says, cradling her cheeks with her hooves before flopping back down on her pillow pile.

You go to work, dilligently stroking Sand Song's thick serpentine form. She coos and giggles softly as you tenderly massage the gel-like seprentine muscle. You can feel it melt like butter under your hooves; you suspect that Sand Song really strained herself capturing and constricting that Mngwa ealier. To move such titanic mass so quickly must have required an increidble amount of exertion, you imagine. Being so close to her coils allows you to inspect them and appreciate them in more detail; the subtle musclular structure, the perfect, unerring overlap of her scales, the gentle rise and fall of the whole muscular tube as she breathes, the smooth polish of countless hours of digging through sand...it's all so magnificent.

"Oooh, you're good...I hope you don't mind if I fall asleep...I haven't been so relaxed in ages...feel free to help yourself to anything while I'm out...books...food...whatever..." Sand Song says, slipping a pillow over her eyes to block out the light seeping into the crevasse from above. The sounds of delight she's making from your touch makes you bite your lip, face flushing.

You continue your delicate treatment of her snake tail, taking great care to skip the bulge of her meal, carefully rubbing the loose snakeskin in small circles to relieve all tension in those unimaginably strong coils. Eventually, you notice that Sand Song is quietly snoozing. You're at first delighted to see her happily napping away, but then you realize that she can'tcoil you while asleep. You go down to the end of her serpentine body, where she's thinner, and scoop up her tail tip and wrap it around your neck. You try to turn around in circles, trying to spool Sand Song's tail around you. Your efforts are met with middling success; you wind up mostly coiled, but the wrapping is uneven, and they are completely limp against your body. You could crawl out of them with little difficulty if you thought of something else to do, but they do feel a little cozy and cool on your body, still feeling hot after the long trek you endured

You groan, what your doing clearly isn't working. As comfortable as Sand Song's coils are, they're not something you can just pull over you like a blanket. You crawl out of your makeshift cocoon, her tail slipping off you and plopping onto the sandy ground. Instead, you decide that Sand Song's mound of pillows would be a much better place for a nap. You gingerly approach, not wanting to disturb her. You take a moment, just to look at her while she sleeps. Aside from her titanic serpentine body, you wouldn't think that she could hurt a fly. It feels a little creepy, but you can't help yourself from slowly slipping in to spoon with her. You don't touch her beyond forelegs, but still, just being here and laying with her feels absolutely amazing. You're pretty exhausted from the trek too and the sun has progressed far enough across the sky that the interior of Sand Song's home is covered in shadow. The temperature is perfect, and this pillows, despite being a little sandy, are simply exquisite. Content, your eyes flutter shut, and you drift off to join Sand Song in dreamland.

...

Hours later, Sand Song's eyes flutter open. As she goes to stretch, she suddenly notices that the two of you are spooning. Rather than freaking out, she just blushes and smiles at the gentle intimacy. Lamias are touchy-feely by nature, and she wasn't put off that you were sleeping in contact with her pony half rather then her coils. She cranes head head, giving you a little kiss on your snout. She licks her lips and then kisses you a second time.

"You taste good..." she mutters with a hushed giggle. "You should be glad that I don't eat anything that can talk back to me."

She slowly slips her tail under you, wrapping around you both and pressing you two gently together before falling back asleep herself.

...

The two of you continue to enjoy each other's company over the next few days. You read together, go on walks (err...slithers) together to see the beautiful desert sunsets, snuggle in her coils, and even experimented with being hypnotized a bit. However, you only have so many vacation days, and subsisiting only on roasted hay and nuts is REALLY starting to wear thin on you.

The dawn of the third day arrives, and, after downing some more hay, you fill your canteen and the two of you set off to the outpost. Despite being so chatty, Sand Song seems unusually silent as the two of you trek along. The trip itself is uneventful; a breeze provided some releif from the heat, and you were able to save energy by flying rather than trotting on loose sand. Around noon, you finally see a small settlement in the distance. It's tiny, but you can see train tracks leading north towards the Equestrian heartlands. Thank Celestia, you think.

Sand Song turns towards you

"That's it, the town of Neighson," she says. "There are like only a few dozen ponies there, but I'm sure they'll be able to help you get home."

She looks down and her tail draws circles in the sand idly.

"I...I would go down there with you, but I just went there last week for new books, and I don't want to freak them out anymore by showing up again so soon," she says, sorrowfully. "So, I guess this is goodbye..."

You turn to Sand Song and give her one last hug, which she returns with both her hooves and her snake tail. The embrace lasts for a while, but eventually she lets you go. You thank her for her time, and tell her that you had much more fun that if you had stayed in that rancid tourist trap that is Klugetown.

"I'm glad. I had a lot of fun too. It definitely gets lonely out here, but, it's probably for the best that I keep to myself. I'm happy for the most part, and I'd rather be lonely than get odd looks all the time," she says.

Sand Song sighs deeply

"Promise that you'll visit again? Just head due south from Neighson and you'll see my home," she continues.

You tell her that you promise.

"Thanks, I'll be waiting," San Song says.

You hug once more, giving her back the canteen you borrowed, before spreading your wings and flying to the outpost. You turn your head as you fly, waving Sand Song goodbye. She waves back as she watches you from the sand dune.

The flight only takes you about five minutes, the relief of seeing real civilization spurring you on. As you approach, you see a trotting stallion take notice and gallop into a small building emblazoned with the royal crest, and by the time you touch down on the main street, a pair of guard ponies come out to meet you.

"Good afternoon, citizen," says the mare guard. She looks more hardened than the petite young stallion by her side. "Welcome to Neighson. There's no civilization for miles in the direction you came from. Is everything alright?"

You regale your tale about how you were mugged and left stranded in the middle of the desert by a bunch of shysters, and about how you spent time with a lamia mare in the desert who rescued you and allowed you to stay with her in the days it took you to fully recover. Actually, you only really needed a single night for full rest, but your story is convincing enough.

"Wait, lamia? You stayed with Sand Song?" She asks.

You nod, and even tell them she escorted you here so you didn't get lost in the desert.

"She was here? Why didn't she escort you here all the way? We love it when she visits," the guard mare adds.

You're a bit confused, and tell them that Sand Song told you that she's only just tolerated by the residents

The guard mare sighs heavily. "I don't know if you gleamed this already, but Sand Song is really insecure. I don't know why, but she just makes leaps of assumptions and sees things that aren't really even there. She thinks that everypony hates her, no matter what we try. It's sad, because she's a wonderful individual, and we all hate seeing her feel that way," the guard mare says with a heavy voice. "I hope that one day she realizes that."

You're a bit stunned at this revelation, and turn back towards the sand dune, only to find Sand Song long gone.

"But, enough of her. I probably already said too much. Respecting the privacy of others is part of the Royal Guard ethos," the guard mare says, taking on a more stern and authoratative tone. "As the senior officer on this outpost, I'm authorizing the purchase of tickets that will get you back home to Baltimare. Seeing as how your situation is an emergency, it will all be paid for with government funds. Equestria takes care of its citizens. Private Spear, fill out the necessary paperwork and book this pony's itinerary. Hurry up, the last train of the week arrives in a couple of hours."

"Y-yes, Sergeant Lookout, ma'am!" the younger guard stallion stammers, before he ushers you inside the small building.

You provide your statement, sign a few papers, and after an hour of filling out forms, you're handed a bundle of tickets and an itinerary telling you where exactly you need to transfer to get back home. The train arrives on time, and you climb aboard while the townsponies exchange cargo. You're the only one inside the meager passenger car, and according to your itinerary, the next stop isn't for another 3 hours. Though it'll be a lonely trip, you realize it's nothing compared to what sand Song lives with every day. You realize that you're going to have a lot of time to reflect on the past few days, on Sand Song, and what Sergeant Lookout said. You look longingly at the receding sand dunes as the train pulls away, already feeling a pull in your heart.

You'll definitely be taking your next vacation sooner than usual, you reckon.

The Lost City of the Coatls

The air of the Tenochtitlan Jungle is warm and humid. The bugs bite, but your deft, agile wings are good at swatting them away. Besides, you’re here for a reason. You can’t leave empty-hooved! Especially since you had to drain your vacation savings account for this! You are on a quest to find the Lost City of Coatl!

...Well, it’s not really so lost. Sure, it’s obscure enough to not be on major maps, but the locals were able to point you in the right direction. The Coatl denizens even rarely go to nearby pony towns to trade and catch up on news. Sadly, you just missed them, making you hoof it. You could have winged it, literally, but you wanted the jungle-trekking experience. Mom was right, you read too much Daring-Do while you were growing up. Hard to believe that series is still going on.

Still, after a whole morning and about half of an afternoon of trekking, the treeline breaks, and you find yourself at the top of a cliff. You huddle close to the dirt, keeping your profile low as you peer over the edge. In the valley, you see a decently sized city, with what looks to be an even mix of stone and wooden buildings. However, a few large stone step pyramids dominate the surrounding structures. Pulling out your binoculars, you can get a bit of a better look. You’re able to distinguish individual Coatl tribesponies in the streets, going about their days.

You gasp. The legends were true!

...Well, actually it was an article in Equestrian Geographic.

The article was true!

The Coatl tribe were supposedly cursed long ago by some dark magic, one that turned them into half snake, half pony creatures. However, when the evil was defeated, a vast majority had come to prefer their new forms, and thus voluntarily held onto the curse. Even now you could see long, colorful, richly-patterned serpent tails following behind reared up pony front halves as they slithered throughout the streets. However, now that you’re so close to your destination, you are at a loss as to what to do. Do you sneakily approach, entering the city with tact and subtlety? Do you follow the path down the cliffside and enter through the stone archway that forms the main entrance of the city? Or, perhaps something else? You heard from the locals that the Coatl tribe can be a little...strange...in terms of customs

However, you decide that, ultimately, the Coatls are ponies at heart, so there shouldn’t be any trouble in simply waltzing through the front gate. You put your binoculars back into your bag and canter down the trail leading to the bottom of the cliff. On the main road, a couple of Coatl tribesponies slither past you, looking at you as you trot by. They seem even more impressive up close, with their long, beautiful serpentine bodies going on seemingly forever. A quick and friendly ‘Howdy’ makes them pass by awkwardly, but they ultimately don’t stop you. You pass through the impressive stone archway that marks the city entrance with little fuss. It’s either unguarded or you’ve arrived just as the guards are on break. Either way, you waste no time trotting inside.

On the main road, you are bedazzled by exotic sights and sounds. Lamias shout from street stands, hawking fried plantains and mangos to slithering passerby in their heavily accented Ponish. One slithers across your path, with an impressive load of timber hoisted in their coils, yet they slither on just like nothing. Your eyes scan the entire place in wonder...this was even better than the article made it sound!

As you are lost in amazement, more and more Coatl tribesponies turn to look at you with mixes of concern, curiosity, and intrigue. While you’re busy getting a picture of an ancient-looking stone totem, you fail to notice that a crowd has gathered around you . They whisper among themselves, coils shifting in what seems to be an endless sea.

”Whoa..a four-legs...” you manage to catch.

”Why are they here?” You hear another say.

”They have one of those picture-boxes, do my scales look alright?” Another behind you says.

You don’t sense hostility, but the crowd is very tight. If you wanted to leave, you’d probably need to climb over some coils. Good thing you can fly. Instead though, you smile at the crowd. Rather than be intimidated, you use this as a photo-op! You tell them that you’re a kind visitor who wish to see their beautiful culture.

There are equal groans and sighs of relief.

You single one of them out, a rather cute looking lamia mare with a milk snake pattern on her serpentine half, and ask if you could take her picture.

”Uh...y-yeah! Sure!” She manages to stammer out.

You flash a photo, and begin taking selfies with others who allow you to do so. As you get up close to the coatls tribesponies, you begin to absorb their appearances in greater detail. You notice that, while some manestyles definitely look exotic and tribal, others style themselves in more normal ways, and others still mix the two to make something unique. You also notice their personal accessories, which range from obviously custom gold and jade to stuff you’d find in a Fohls Deptartment Store back home. One lamia stallion even has a watch, but you think it’s busted as the hands swing loosely inside. The crowd eventually disperses, seeming satisfied with the novelty of having their pictures taken. A few lamias seen to keep close to you, though, as you continue walking about, looking at you like some sort of novelty. The encounter has left you pretty hungry though, so you go to a stall selling fried mango. You plop a few bits on the counter, and ask for one.

The Mangomonger looks at your bits with some confusion, and then back to you.

”Uh, sorry, I have enough gold. Trade something else?” He says.

Taking a quick look around, it seems like the natives have a barter economy, and you spot another lamia trading a glowing vial of fluid for a golden neckpiece at a nearby stall. The bottle piques your interest, but you quickly turn to your pouch to try to find something you can part with. Opening it up, you see that you have CAMERA, EQUESTRIAN GEOGRAPHIC VOL. 157 (The issue with the article about this place), CANTEEN OF WATER (half-full), BASIC JUNGLE MAP, BINOCULARS, COMPASS, and A REALLY COOL STICK YOU FOUND.

HOWEVER!!!!!!

The mare you singled out earlier suddenly slithers up beside you.

”Don’t worry, here,” she says, scooping some purple shells from her own bag with her hoof and dropping them on the counter.

”Yes, good good,” says the Mangomonger, who scoops the shells into a box behind the counter while his tail plucks a mango from the frying rack and sets it on a clean leaf.

You have acquired ROASTED MANGO SNACK!

Your cool pegasus feather fingers grab onto it, and you’re able to comfortably eat it as you trot away with the lamia mare by your side. It’s absolutely scrumptious, warm and gooey with a hint of heat from some spice you’ve never tasted before.

”You like it?” Asks the lamia mare.

You tell her yes, and thank her for her kindness.

”I’m so glad!” She squeals, clapping her forelegs together while her tail tip wags like a puppy. “I always love meeting ponies. We don’t often get visitors here. My name is Cuanehuiyo. Most of us speak Ponish now, but we keep the old language alive through names. It means ‘Grass Reed’. I know pony names are much more brief, so you can call me Cuane.”

You tell her that you’re please to meet her, and introduce yourself as you gobble down the last of the fried mango.

ACQUIRED GREASY LEAF.

”Oh, I bet the Chieftess would like to know you’re here!” She says with excitement. “Would you like to meet her?”

Before you can answer, you feel Cuane’s serpentine tail quickly loop around you neck and tug you forward.

”Her palace isn’t far, come on!” She says, before turning around and slithering in the direction of one of those large stone step pyramids you saw from the cliff face. “If you have any questions, I’ll do my best to answer!”

You’re a bit taken aback by her sudden insistence...though you notice the coil around your neck it pretty loose. You might be able to slip out of it if you wanted to. However, something compels you to leave it be. Perhaps it's the cool sensation around your neck, or the gentle sliding of scales on your sensitive neck. You ask about the Chieftess, and what she expects of you. You don’t want to offend her. This is still pretty unknown territory for you.

”Oh, Chieftess Muyal is a great leader. She’s strong and wise, and very kind. She tries to act tough and intimidating, but she’s a very understanding ruler. She only punishes those who truly deserve it,” Cuane says, glancing back at you a couple of times as she slithers on. ”However, it is customary to offer something as a gift to her upon first meeting. She accepts it in place of the whole tribe, and it’s meant to demonstrate that you show respect and understanding that you are a guest in this land and will act accordingly. It doesn’t have to be much, the act itself is what’s important. If you don’t give anything, that’s fine too. Your friendship is a good offering itself.”

The two of you reach the base of the mighty stone pyramid, where two lamias flank the entrance, coiled in a stance that seems ready to strike. The two look at each other, nod, and are at ease as Cuane leads you inside.

”However, Chieftess Muyal does have a huge affinity for birds. I don’t know if you have any to spare on those wings, but if you were to offer up one of your feathers, I think she’d REALLY like it,” Cuane adds as the two of your pass through the door at the end of the antechamber.

As the door opens, the sight of the chieftess utterly astounds you. The other lamias you’ve seen carried themselves with more modern styles, but the chieftess strikes you as being pure tribal. Her mane is braided in elaborate patterns, and she is decked out in gold and jade jewelry. Bracelets, a huge neckpiece, and even a golden circlet with a serpent’s head crowning her skull. However, her adornments don’t hold a candle to the sheer splendor of her scales. It appears her snake tail is patterned off a rainbow boa, dark orange with brown rings going down her length. However, with the way the windows are cut into the stone walls, light fills the room in such a way that her scales shimmer with iridescence at the slightest motion. It’s so distracting that you find yourself utterly spellbound at the sight, before Cuane’s gentle tug around your neck breaks your rapture and makes you step forward. Now able to take in the rest of her, you’re able to see that she’s resting on a stone throne at the top of a set of steps that seems more like an altar than a proper seat. Perched on the back of the throne is a brilliant red macaw, who twists its head around as it looks at you. She is flanked by two more guards, two lamia mares whose serpentine halves are longer and thicker than most of the other tribals you’ve seen, but nowhere near the size of the chieftess. They stand at attention, firmly grasping macuahuitlswith their tail tips, reared up in a way that reminds you of a scorpion’s stinger. You also notice a couple of regular ponies, first ones you’ve seen in the Coatl city, at the base of the altar-throne, loosely enlaced in her thick coils. They look...off...as they stare vacantly into space with glassy eyes and relaxed smiles. You get a vibe that the lights may be on, but nopony’s home.

As you ponder, Cuane speaks.

”Oh Chieftess Muyal, I bring to you a newcomer to our fine city,” she says loudly and clearly. She turns back to you. “That’s your cue,” she whispers, before unwrapping her tail from around your neck.

The chieftess, who had been looking off to the side seemingly bored, casts a glance over to you. Upon seeing you, her face flashes a look of surprise, before she suddenly comes to life, shifting her coils slightly to once more make them shimmer with iridescence and sitting straight up on her throne, looking down at you.

”A visitor?” She says and a queenly, authoritative voice that somewhat reminds you of Princess Luna’s with a higher pitch.

You figure that this is a great honor, meeting the chieftess, and you want to make as good of an impression as possible. You bow deeply before her, introducing yourself and telling her that you only wish to experience the splendor and wonder of their magnificent city. As a token of your appreciation, you say as you unfurl a wing and move your muzzle to one of the less important secondary feathers. You prehensile pony lips wrap around one. You close your eyes and yank.

YEOWCH!

-1 HP

Still, waving the wing around for a few seconds makes the pain fade away, and you furl it against your side. You offer the feather on the ground at the foot of the steps leading up to the throne. You can see the chieftess’s eyes light up at the sight of it. You serpentine tail emerges from the bundle of coils at the foot of the altar, deftly scooping up the feather and carrying it up to the chieftess’s pony half, sticking it in her mane. For an instant, she looks as giddy as a little filly, before her face once more returns to its usual stoicism as she looks back at you.

”The Coatly tribe accepts and greatly appreciates your offering,” she says in a calm, regal voice. “An offering such as this that requires some self-sacrifice is truly the mark of a sincere heart, especially as a member of the noble pegasi. Henceforth, you shall be accepted in our lands as a friend to all.”

”Welcome, friend,” the guards say in unison, stomping on the floor in applause with such weakness and neutral expression on their face that it feels a bit arbitrary. Still you won’t complain

”RAWW...WELCOME FRIEND...WELCOME FRIEND!” The macaw squawks

”Welcome...friend...” whisper the two ponies enlaced in the chieftess’s coils, still staring into space.

There’s a bit of an awkward silence as you remain before the chieftess. You ask if that’s it.

”Oh, well, I suppose,” Chieftess Muyal says, idly playing with your feather with her hoof. “Unless you have any questions that I could answer. As chieftess, I know everything about my tribe.”

You nod, before deciding to just dive right into the elephant in the room. You ask about the two zoned out ponies, and what’s up with them.

”Hmm, these two? Surely you’ve heard of our unique magical abilities,” Chieftess Muyal says, maneuvering her pony half closer to them. “You see, we of the Coatl tribe demand that visitors show respect at all times. It is a privilege to visit our city, and we expect even accepted friends to do no harm. If they have proven to be unable to make good decisions, then we remove their ability to make decisions at all.”

She maneuvers to the stallion.

”This one insisted that our merchants take his bits for their wares, going so far as to simply take a jade necklace after carelessly throwing bits at the poor jeweler,” she says, slowly petting the stallion’s head like one would a cat, before maneuvering over to the mare. ”This one attempted to deface one of our most sacred totems by drawing a heart with the name of her lover in it. It took weeks to remove the graffiti without damaging the totem,” she continues. Her expression softens a bit, before booping the mare on the snout, eliciting a drunken giggle. ”But, we are not cruel. These two are enjoying every second of their sentences, we made sure of that. It may seem counterproductive, but the goal is justice, not revenge. Once both of their sentences end in two moons’ time, they will be set free,” Chieftess Muyal says, finally returning to her throne.

You gulp at the prospect, feeling a bit of apprehension.

”I can see that frightened you,” Chieftess Muyal continues with a slight grin.

You’re not sure if she’s seeking to assuage you or if she’s pleased at the fact.

”Don’t worry, we only save such punishments for the most egregious displays of bad behavior. As long as you’re a good little pony, you have nothing to fear. Besides, I know that pegasi have strong hearts, and conduct themselves honorably,” she says. “Especially since, as a result of these offenses, we have decided to encourage our fellow Coatls to act as guides to visitors, both to give them a good experience and ensure that no ‘cultural misunderstandings’ take place.”

She turns to one of her guards.

”Pakal, why don’t you act as this visitor’s guide?” The Chieftess says.

The guard gasps in surprise.

”What? Why me?” She protests.

”Because I am your chieftess and am ordering you to,” Chieftess Muyal replies firmly.

”...Yes, Honored Chieftess,” Pakal says with a heavy sigh.

You take a moment to look at her

She’s a very green mare, with piercing blue eyes. Her orange mane is arranged in a ponytail, tied with her own braids, and the river of scales that erupts from her midsection are green with dark brown spots, resembling those of an anaconda.

As you and Pakal size each other up, you hear a much more demure voice come from behind you.

”Chieftess Muyal, if I may, I don’t have much business for the next few days. I could be the guide,” Cuane says

Pakal excitedly pumps her hoof.

”Hmm, that could work as well. See, visitor? We of the Coatl tribe are always willing to lend a hoof,” Chieftess Muyal adds. Her hoof taps her chin as she mulls about something, and a sly grin suddenly crosses her face. “In fact, should the visitor desire, he may spend time with me. Unfortunately, my duties will come first, but perhaps you may be interested to see how the mighty among us conduct our days. Because we are peaceful, some days may be uneventful, but your company would be certainly appreciated.”

You look a little shocked. The CHIEFTESS too?

”The visitor shall choose who shall be their guide,” Chieftess Muyal says. “Whatever your decision, we shall respect it.”

You look at the three lamia mares, weighing your options: Cuane, who seems innocent and demure, Pakal, who seems stoic but with a sense of wild beauty, or Muyal, who seems cool and confident, but you sense a bit of a domineering streak from her.

...

You look at the three lamia mares and wish you could hang out with them all. However, ultimately, you feel like you should stick with the kind mare who took to you when you first entered the city. You tell the chieftess that you’d like to be accompanied by Cuane, and her hooves cross her chest and a big smile comes across her face. Pakal wipes her brow, relieved, and Muyal looks a bit sad, but she smiles and nods.

”Very well then. Cuane, the visitor is your responsibility for now. Do make sure you show them all of our splendors,” she says.

With a wave of her hoof, you are dismissed

Cuane slithers up to you, wrapping her tail tip around one of your forehooves. ”Thanks for picking me,” she says as she leads you outside the palace and back into the sunlight. “I didn’t mean to step in on the chieftess’s decision, but I just that I always love meeting and learning about ponies. Besides, I’m mostly free today. I just need to check in a jeweler’s workshop a few blocks south from here. I know that the chieftess told me to escort you around, but I’m sure that you don’t need me to. I get the impression that you’re not a pony who likes getting into trouble.”

You shake your head, but Cuane notices the look of unease upon your face.

”Please don’t get the wrong impression from Chieftess Muyal’s prisoners. It was a last resort for dealing with them. I hope that doesn’t taint your perception of our hypnotic magic. It’s actually really fun and therapeutic when used normally. Maybe you can try it yourself before you leave, if you’d like.”

You’ll have to think about that.

”Well, enough of that. I also wanted to let you know that you arrived just at the right time,” Cuane continues, quickly changing the subject. “The Magefteki Festival begins tonight. It’s an ancient tradition honoring our origins as a tribe. Very few outsiders have had the pleasure of witnessing it, and it’s loads of fun. It doesn’t begin until after sundown, though, so we have some time to kill.”

She’s right; by your reckoning, it’s only 2:00 PM.

”Hey, I could always take you to the Nampeka Waterfall. It’s where we do a lot of our fishing. I know that some ponies have an aversion to the practice of eating meat, but even so the falls are an incredible sight to see, especially from a tree top!” Cuane continues, excitedly. "Or, if you can handle a bit of boredom, we can knock out my errand quickly so we have the rest of the day to ourselves. I’ll leave it up to you,” she says.

You tell Cuane that you don’t mind doing this errand with her, and that it might even give you some perspective on how bartering works in this society.

”Really? Thanks, I appreciate it. We won’t be long, I promise. Besides, it’ll give you a chance to meet Ixkak. She’s quite skilled,” Cuana says, as she begins slithering down the road.

The tug of her tail on your foreleg signals you to follow, but you don’t need to be told to trot along. As you trot behind Cuana, you notice her serpentine form swaying back and forth ahead of you as she slithers. Her red, black, and yellow bands form wide, lazy S-shapes as she moves, reflecting the afternoon sun. Her tail tip around your hoof, tiny as it is, squeezes your hoof with deceptively great firmness. You begin to wonder about the rest of her, and how much power must be resting underneath those gorgeous scales. For now, though, you take in the eye candy, watching her sway back and forth, back and forth…

”...Alright, we’re here, told you it wasn’t far,” Cuane suddenly chimes in.

You come to attention, having zoned out staring at her tail. A bit embarrassing, but she doesn’t seem to have noticed. You find yourself outside of a carved stone pyramid, much smaller than the palace you were just at, but still bigger than the wooden huts you’ve seen. There’s a wide berth of empty space around it, and you can see why. From the top glowing embers flicker, mixed in with black smoke. The two of you enter the place, and the hot, heavy air hits you instantly. There’s a pool of what appears to be magma on the far end of the interior of the workshop, with stone channels stopped with stone blocks funnel the flow to a couple of workstations, where you see a couple of lamias diligently attending to clay molds. They look up, spotting the two of you. One of them goes back to attending their work, while another shouts a phrase that you can’t decipher. From behind the magma repository slithers a gruff, hardy looking lamia mare, with a short, braided blond mane and blue fur, with what looks to be an albino python pattern on her serpentine lower half. She slithers up to you with weary, but warm eyes.

”Niltze Tialli Pialli, Cuane,” the mare says in dry voice. “Who’s your new friend?”

”Niltze Tialli Pialli, Ixkak,” Cuane replies before turning to you. “That means ‘hello’ when translated to Ponish. I’d like to introduce you to Ixkak, a good friend of mine.”

You introduce yourself to Ixkak with the same greeting.

”They’re learning quite well,” Ixkak says with a smile. “Are they a new slave of yours?”

”Wh-what!? N-no!” Cuane says with a look of surprise. “He’s just a visitor, and the chieftess has told me to look over him for now.”

”Ah, my apologies, visitor,” Ixkak says as she bundles her coils neatly behind her. “I hope you are enjoying your stay so far.”

You reply that it has been...interesting.

”Good to hear,” Ixtal says with a smile, before turning to Cuane. “Do you have the potion?”

”Yes, I do,” Cuane says, her snake tail unwinds from your foreleg to poke around in her bag, eventually pulling out a small glowing green vial, which she promptly gives to Ixkak.

Her tail tip then quickly maneuvers to your foreleg and wraps around it once more.

”Yes, oh, this looks just right,” Ixkak says, inspecting the vial before whistling to one of her apprentices, who slithers over and retrieves it before going back to his workstation.

”What would you like?” Ixkak says. “You said last week that you were eyeing that obsidian spear I had on display, but have you changed your mind?”

”Well, actually, I have,” Cuane continues. “Hardened obsidian with be nice to have, but I think I’ll just take some neckpieces. Whatever quality would let me get two. The visitor is still getting used to our bartering system, and it would be nice for them to possess something that’s valuable here.”

”Ah, very well, right away,” Ixkak says, slithering to an enclosed area and rummaging through a chest. She returns with two stunning gold matching neckpieces draped on each foreleg. ”We made these two days ago, so they have a fresh new design. I know how difficult it must have been to obtain that vial, so please, take them,” Ixkak continues.

She slithers around you, placing the golden neckpiece on your and fastening it so that it holds snugly against you, before doing the same to Cuane. You look down, in total awe of the multitude of tiny golden tabs bundled together with red twine. Each one has a repeating geometric pattern on it that morphs and shifts as it hops between tabs. In the center is a long, narrow tablet that forms the centerpiece of the whole thing, inlaid with three medium-sized jade squared.

Item obtained: GOLD NECKPIECE x1, JADE SQUARE x3

”Remember, visitor, it’s not the gold that makes that thing valuable, it’s the craftsponyship. There is plenty of gold in this land, meaning that your currency...pardon me, I forget what it’s called...has little use. You may find others who may like to have some coins as a novelty, but don’t expect you to get far with them. We of the Coatl tribe are very kind and understanding towards visitors, though...well, most of them...and purveyors of food and other necessities will probably do you a kindness and accept small things, or even a favor if you truly have nothing to give. That neckpiece should give you some leverage in exchanges though, and those jade squares can be popped out to trade on their own,” Ixkak says.

You nod, in understanding, and you and Cuane bid your farewells to Ixkak and leave the workshop. Even though it’s still warm and humid, the outside air feels refreshing on your face.

”See? I told you that would take no time at all. We might not have as much time to see the falls, but we can get there with enough time if we hurry. How about it?” Cuane asks.

You tell Cuane that you’ll race her to the falls.

”Um...okay...” she says, a bit confused. “Did you breathe in too much hot air inside that workshop? We can rest for a little while.”

The competitive spirit in you won’t take know for an answer!

”Well, alright, I’ll slither fast then,” Cuane says.

She begins to slither down the street, with you in tow. Keeping pace besides her proves difficult while trotting, but it’s a breeze once you take to the air.

”Oh yeah, I keep on forgetting pegasi can actually fly,” Cuane says as she moves at a quick pace. “How is it? I wish I could fly.”

You explain that flying gives you a true sense of freedom, and that you feel blessed to have been gifted with it.

”Whoa, how nice. Some of the pony visitors have mentioned that there are huge machines that can fly. I hope to ride on one of them some day,” she says with a gleeful smile.

The last airship port you passed was before you entered the Tenochtitlan Basin miles and miles away, but you keep your mouth shut for now. Eventually, though, you notice the stone and wooden buildings getting more and more sparse, and the road begins to wind around a large hill bordering the Eastern end of the city. No matter what the terrain, you notice that Cuane slithers over it like a champ. You’re lucky that you have flight; an earth pony or a unicorn would be no match for her if they were trying to run away. Fortunately, the Coatl tribes seems to consist mostly of normal, nice ponies who just happen to have a snake tail for their lower half.

At least, you think; Muyal’s ideas of punishment and Ixkak’s casual remark that you looked like a ‘new’ slave makes you wonder about these ‘cultural quirks’ that were glossed over in the Equestrian Geographic article. However, you have no time to mull over it, as you spot the falls coming into view.

”That’s the…..WHOA!” Cuane says as she suddenly feels herself yanked forward.

Finally seeing your destination, your wings kick into high gear and you zoom towards it. However, Cuane’s tail tip is still looped around your foreleg, which means you’re dragging her along. It’s a huge strain on your wings, and you slow down a lot, but Cuane’s technically losing since she’s having a hard time trying to slither backwards. By the time you reach the edge of the falls, you’re completely exhausted, but you’re the definitive winner. You flump down onto the cool grass, breathing heavily as Cuane slithers beside you.

”Wow, I guess that’s the ‘pegasus warrior spirit’ that Chieftess Muyal mentioned. I can see why she likes your kind,” she says.

Yeah, something like that, you mention.

”This spot isn’t too good though, you can’t really see the base of the falls,” she continues as she points to a tall tree nearby. “I usually hang out on that tree when I come here, it gives a great view. I’m pretty sure I could carry you up if I took my time,” Cuane says. “Or, if you promise not to fly away, I’ll unwind from you so you can fly up their yourself. I mean, me keeping you on some sort of leash is a dumb rule, but Muyal is my chieftess, and I must obey her lawful commands. Still, I won’t tell anyone about giving you some freedom away from prying eyes if you won’t.”

You tell her that you’re not too exhausted to fly and you promise not to flutter off and make trouble.

”I know you wouldn’t, but it’s nice hearing you say that,” Cuane says.

Her tail tip unwinds from around your hoof. Somehow, you feel a little naked without its silky touch. Before you have time to respond, Cuane quickly begins to ascend the tree. Her skill is mesmerizing; she moves so fast going from branch to branch that she looks like she's falling upwards. She eventually reaches the highest of the bare branches, and she lets a portion of her midsection down in a wide U-shape. Her eyes scan the sky, before shooting to the ground and spotting you.

"Hey, come on slowpoke! I even made a seat for you," Cuane says, pointing at her hanging segment. With a bit of apprehension, you fly up to the hanging bit, and gingerly land. It's hard to find footing on the gel-like snake muscle, but you find that it works with you to maintain balance. You eventually lie down, able to do so comfortably as Cuane's middle coils are about 1.5 times your head's width. The thought of using Cuane as a hammock feels a little weird, but you cannot deny how comfortable it is. Her pony half descends from above until it is next to you.

"There, now isn't this a much nicer view?" Cuane says, gesturing with her foreleg to direct your vision.

Indeed, she's absolutely correct. You can now see the base of the falls, spraying water everywhere from the unstoppable torrent, making faint rainbows in the mist. Brightly colored birds nest on the dry parts of the cliff face off to both sides, painting the gray rock with their vibrant reds and blues. In the river flowing away from the falls, you can see some lamia tribesponies casting their nets, using their strong tail to bring them back up onto shore. It's all utterly breathtaking.

"What do you think? Nice huh?" She asks. "From what I've been told, there's very little wild nature in Equestria. We've lived as a part of nature for generations; nature is a thing of beauty, not something you should be afraid of."

She begins to gently swing the segment you're laying on back and forth.

"I come here a lot to relax and think. Life can be tough, but I know that this view will always exist," she says. "...And being able to share it just makes it that much nicer."

You bask in the calm atmosphere, loving the afternoon sun on your face...and the silky scales on you stomach, but you won't tell Cuane that! However, there is as little something that has been bothering you a bit. You ask Cuane about what Ixkak meant by calling you a new slave.

She bites her lip. "Oh, that, th-there's nothing to worry about that..." she says, stammering.

Your unamused face makes her re-evaluate her approach.

She sighs deeply. "Listen, for a long, long time, we've had little contact with the outside world. Things have changed in recent generations, but for hundreds of years we've had old styles of thought and old ways of living. Slavery used to be a thing in our tribe. We'd take ponies who wandered onto our lands or who came here looking for trouble and enslave them with our hypnotic powers. Chieftess Witzja, Muyal's mother, put an end to the practice after Celestia herself visited our ancient city. My dad told me it was so funny; they expected her to mesmerize Celestia into serving us, and were pretty shocked when the two came to a mutual agreement," Cuane says with a small giggle. "I mean, from what my dad told me, it was not really that big of a deal to a lot of us. We weren't active slavers, so there was maybe like a dozen slaves maximum in the whole tribe at any given time. Plus, ever since then, we really opened up our society to visitors, and they were able to introduce new forms of thinking to the younger generation at the time that really killed that mode of thought flat out. Still, some of the older generation like Ixkak, don't really see anything wrong with it. I mean, under our spell, the ponies did lead lives of constant happiness, even though it was fake," she continues.

She sighs again, but then looks at you with determined eyes.

"Those days are gone for good though. I could never think of enslaving you. Even if you were to suddenly fly off and cause total chaos, you'd simply serve your sentence and then be sent back to your homeland, shew says, almost pleadingly. "But, I know you won't. You seem like a really good pony, and I'm glad that you took my picture earlier. By the way, how does that thing work? I've seen how they can paint a picture in seconds, but sometimes the picture-box clicks and nothing happens."

Her story has given you a lot of food for thought. You always thought of the Coatl tribe as being equals to ponies, but right now you're not so sure, given their history. After all, how do you even know that Cuane isn't hypnotizing you right now to sympathize with her? She cute and sweet, but how do you know she didn't just hypnotize you to think that? Actually...you're not quite sure what her hypnotizing you would even look like. Their hypnotic abilities were glossed over in the article. Was the author hypnotized to write little about it!?!?!? An idea pops into your head as a way to test her predatory instincts. You rummage through your bag, looking for some barbecue sauce, however, you only manage to find the GREASY LEAF.

It'll have to do.

You rub the rest of the mango-infused oil over your face and chest tuft. The leaf is now dry, and you cast it off to the ground, having used it up. If Cuane can't be trusted, then she'd surely look at you hungrily after flavoring yourself!

...Instead, however, she looks at you with clear confusion.

"Um, what are you doing?" She asks. "Is this a pony custom?"

...

You tell her yes, yes it is.

"Oh, how interesting," she says, now looking genuinely curious. "Rubbing oil on your fur to make it shinier...I'm going to need to try that some time!"

You laugh awkwardly and quickly change the subject, deciding to show off the camera and explain how it works. At least, to the best of your ability. You were never a techn enthusiast. There IS a tiny unicorn in there painting all the pictures on the film, right?

"Whoa...pony machines are so incredible!" Cuane says, looking at the camera like it was some kind of idol. "Equestria seems like such a magical place, I hope I'm one day able to visit! Then the tables will have turned!"

As the two of you hang out, you notice the sun creeping towards the horizon. Won't be long now before Celestia nudges it down and Luna ushers in the night.

"We should probably get back," Cuane says. "Besides, we need to get ready for tonight!"

You nod, and the two of you descend down the tree and head back on the path towards the city. Cuane lets you freely trot and fly for a bit, but as the stone structures come into view, she sneaks her tail tip around your foreleg again. You frown for a moment, but then realize that you missed the sensation of those smooth scales on your fur. As you pass further into the heart of the lost city, you see Coatls slithering around, erecting wooden pyres and donning costumes made from leaves and feathers from some kind of giant bird. By now, the sun has set, but you can still navigate from the light of huge nets containing shining fireflies hanging on poles that have been erected every 30ft or so.

"Oh, the Mageftiki Festival is so incredible, I can't wait for it to start so you can see it," Cuane says with excitement.

Suddenly, her eyes go wide.

"...Actually, I think you might even be able to play a part in it too!" She squeals, before lowering her voice a bit. "Actually, wait, before I get too excited, you might want to think a bit hard about this. The involvement of ponies in the main festivities used to come from their position as slaves in our society, and I don't want you to feel embarrassed for being put into slightly weird positions. Maybe I can ask Chieftess Muyal to maybe alter the ceremony, or at least let me be your partner during it. You can trust me, I won't do anything degrading to you. This is still only if you want to take part, just watching the ceremony is super fun too!"

You reply with enthusiasm. How could you pass up the opportunity to actually be a part of an obscure and mystic cultural festival!? Cuane smiles and nods, and the two of you slither closer to the center of the city where all of the other Coatl tribesponies seem to be slithering towards. At the center of the city, you can see huge totems wheeled in, while a small stage is being hastily assembled, and the netted fireflies are providing so much light you could swear it was daytime.

You see Chieftess Muyal slithering around, giving orders. Her 'pets' aren't with her for some reason. Cuane quickly approaches, with you in tow.

"Chieftess Muyal?" Cuane says, bowing.

"Hmm, yes?" Muyal asks as she turns towards the two of you.

"The visitor would like to partake in this year's ceremony, with me as their partner," Cuane continues.

Muyal's eyes go wide, but then a sinister smile creeps onto her face. "Surely?" She asks, with a voice dripping with sultriness.

You nod.

"Cuane, did you tell the visitor what the ceremony entails?" Muyal asks.

"Um, well, not yet, but I was going..." Cuane says, but Muyal's hoof on her lips cuts her off.

"You shall do no such thing," Muyal says. "The visitor may partake in the ceremony, but under the condition that they are not told what to do. I want to see what a natural reaction looks like. Oh, and don't get any ideas of neutering it. It is a sacred tradition, after all."

"But..." Cuane stammers.

"No buts, I am your chieftess, and you shall obey my lawful commands," Muyal says. Her eyes look deeply into your own, and you can feel a small, instinctive magnetism to follow her eyes, like she has an aura of unshakeable confidence and authority. Muyal smirks, and then turns away to slither to some other thing that needs supervising. "I do look forward to your performance, visitor. Do not disappoint, under penalty of...punishment," she says with a soft, yet sinister-sounding laugh.

You gulp hard.

"You still want to do this? This might have been a bit of a poor decision on my part," Cuane asks sheepishly.

You take a second, and then nod. Your momma didn't raise a quitter!

"Alright, I'll be gentle...n-not to imply that I'll be doing anything intense to you...or anything...it's just that...well...you'll see..." Cuane says.

The two of you slither towards the makeshift stage, and you can now see that there is a huge pyre of wood being erected behind it. Cuane explains the situation to a few coatls, who take you aside. With great skill and care, the stagehooves delicately paint your face with a fragrant liquid, raising a highly polished gold mirror so you can see the simple geometric pattern they've painted on your face and muzzle. They even paint on your rump, much to your surprise, circling your cutie mark with yellow paint, with curved spokes extending outwards. It kind of reminds you of Celestia's cutie mark. Before you can ask them what it's for, you hear the beat of a large drum fill the air. Giggling they push you towards the back of the stage, behind a curtain where you see Cuane and two other Coatl tribe lamias. You also see Muyals 'pets', also painted with the same tribal patterns. The stallion also has an empty version of Celestia's cutie mark around his own, while the mare, who you can tell is a crystal pony now that her body isn't being obscured by Muyal's coils, has an empty light-teal heart drawn around her cutie mark.

Before you have time to process it, Cuane leans down and whispers in your ear.

"Just follow my lead, okay? No matter what happens, remember that no harm will come to you," she quickly says.

Just as she finishes, the curtain falls, revealing the chieftess wearing a full wooden mask with a crest of multicolored feathers (including your own, your pastel color stands out against the vibrancy of the other feathers). She begins speaking in a language you don't understand, slithering around the stage what seems to be some wide-sweeping dance. With a clap of her hoofs, you feel a rush of heat from behind, and turn your head to see that the bonfire has been lit. She continues speaking in the unknown language while some small Coatl foals perform some kind of re-enactment towards the front of the stage. One of them with a bundled up tail suddenly lets it explode when another wearing a dark cape performs some gesture.

"It's the story of how we came to be," Cuane quickly whispers in your ear, before she goes back to focusing on the presentation.

The robed coatl filly dances with the others for a moment, before she falls to the ground with her mouth closed and her tongue rolling out in a display that you can't help but find adorable. As the others drag her off stage, Muyal slithers to the front, still speaking in her tribal language while she gestures wildly with both her hooves and coils. She goes silent and slithers off the stage, gesturing back towards you as the music picks up, maracas being added to the steady drum beat. Cuane and the other lamias slither on stage, dancing for the audience.

You could swear that she gestured towards you to come up.

Her pony half is dancing, while another segment is curled into an arch, while yet another rests in a donut-shaped loop that seems oddly like a seat. Looking at the hypnotized prisoners, they seem to be standing still, so they're giving you no clues. You're not sure what to do, but you have to do something! You're a bit apprehensive about what you should do but you decide that the best course of action would be to shimmy up on stage and ask directly. You timidly step up, but then all the memories of 7th-grade dance class come back to you. You step in time with a beat, letting the music flow through you.

In actuality though, you're dancing like somepony who has never danced in their life. You feel pretty cool, though. You inch closer and closer to Cuane's pony half, dodging her serpentine tail as it whips around. You even need to flap your wings to get high enough to leap over it as it sweeps the stage on occasion. Eventually though, you make it over. You nudge Cuane with your hoof, and, lowering your voice to a whisper, quickly ask her if you should sit down.

She seems surprised to see you so close. "Uh, no, this will be fine, just stay still," she whispers back. She does a few more sways for the audience, before the base of her tail, close to where it meets her pony half, quickly whips and twists around your neck. It's not squeezing, it just holds you in place as it hangs like a necklace, causing you to strain yourself as you support its massive weight on your withers.

As you're looking at it, trying to get your bearings, Cuane's hoof suddenly cups the bottom of your jaw. She gently pushes your face up to look at her. She's really close now, and she has the cutest smile on her face. She's looking at you like a little filly looks when you tell them you're going to a fair. Her smile makes you smile in turn as well.

The moment lasts for only a few seconds though, before she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. When she opens them, instead of her beautiful blue slit irises, you see repeating rings of shimmering red, gold, and purple neon light. You gasp at the sight of their splendor, pulsing unerringly, shining like the sun. You feel a certain pull towards then, one that's growing more and more with each passing second. However, you still find that you have the willpower to look away at this time. With some difficulty, your eyes scan around. The other ponies are in similar positions, their eyes filling with spirals as their weakened minds are easy prey. You see Chieftess Muyal off to the side, still wearing her wooden mask so her expression is unknown. However, she is looking at you, clearly.

You gaze turns back to Cuane. Her eyes are still spiraling, but they're slower than before. You still feel the compulsion to look deeply into them, but they don't have the same magnetic pull that you felt earlier. She leans in close, so much that her head touches yours. The spirals in her eyes slow to almost a standstill, yet her proximity means that they're almost totally engulf your field of vision, bringing you just shy of feeling utterly overwhelmed.

"You can stop at any time if you want..." Cuane whispers. "Muyal won't punish you, I promise."

Despite her whispering, her voice seems to boom in your head, and you hear everything as clear as crystal. You tell her that you're brave...but only barely. Your words sound like they're being slurred, like you've been drinking too much cider. It's just...so hard to focus on what you're saying. The words feel like they're falling out of your mouth. Those magnificent pulsing lights in Cuane's eyes feel like they're burning everything away, leaving only them.

"Alright...I'll be gentle then," Cuane whispers. "Just relax...and let go..."

She retreats from your face, and you're compelled to lean forward to follow, only to gulp as your neck presses up against Cuane's serpentine body still around your neck. The spirals in her eyes get faster and faster with every pulse, and she bobs her hips back and forth as if to captivate you with her physical beauty as well. You gaze deeply into her eyes, feeling a warm bliss fill your body as your thoughts become more fleeting and unfocused. Eventually, you can't tear your eyes away...you feel totally captivated by Cuane's spell...Those pulsing rings of colors began to fill your own eyes as well, and you delight in their magnificent rhythm as they act like a filter for the world around you.

Unable to even think of anything but Cuane's rings, the rest of the night seems like a blur. The rhythm of the drums, the heat of the bonfire, the motions of the dance...it all blends together, with the faintest flashes of lucidity making it seem like you're skipping from scene to scene in a movie. You feel handled by many different snake tails, and spy glimpses of even more pulsing eyes as you're passed around like a novelty. You don't care...Cuane's spell is swimming in your mind, eroded all worries and apprehensions...

You lose yourself to the celebration...

...

You awaken as you feel the sun's rays fall upon your face. As you blink the fuzziness from your eyes, you find yourself in a hammock. You try to go back to sleep, but you find that you can't. You feel more rested and full of energy than you've ever been. You pace a foreleg over your face to shield your eyes while you try to remember last night, but your nostrils flare as you smell something delicious cooking. You turn your head, absorbing your surroundings. You're in a fairly large wooden hut, and Cuane is leaning over a hearth cooking something. You step out of the hammock, stretching your forelegs and wings.

Cuane immediately notices.

"Oh, you're finally awake," she says with a smile. "Just give me a minute to prepare breakfast."

She quickly finishes up, using her snake tail to hold a variety of implements. You stumble towards the table, initially a bit confused about the lack of seats, when Cunae unfurls her serpentine body right next to it.

"You can sit on my tail. Don't worry, it doesn't hurt me," she says.

You sit on her thickest, softest portion, and the muscle underneath your rump feels almost gel-like. Cuane puts a plate in front of you.

"Breakfast around here is usually pretty simple. I made tortillas with honey. It's a good combination, try it out!" She exclaims with enthusiasm.

It's a strange dish, but you pick up one of the honey quesadillas with your wings and bite into one. It's absolutely divine; the tortilla is clearly freshly made, and the honey tastes purer than anything you've bought at a store, with tiny bits of beeswax to give it a chewy texture. Seeing your look of approval, Cuane begins to eat hers too. As you munch, you notice that Cuane seems a bit more beautiful than yesterday. She doesn't appear any different, and you in fact look very hard for ways her mane might be different, or if she's wearing any makeup. Try as you might, you can't find anything, yet it's undeniable that she seems to have this invisible aura around her that makes her feel absolutely radiant. It makes you see her in a new light; this mare, who seemed so demure and nerdy (well, for a tribal) yesterday now seems like a movie star.

"So, how do you feel? Did you have fun last night? You looked like it," Cuane says as she bites into another tortilla. "Still, I'm honored that you trusted me like that. It's something not a lot of outsiders get the privilege of being a part of. Oh, and I made sure to get all your things. Your bag is over there at the foot of your hammock. "

Her eyes go wide.

"Oh, before I forget, one of Chieftess Muyal's guards came by earlier. He said that the chieftess requests your presence, but not immediately. Just after you've woken up and gotten yourself ready for the day. I don't know why, you performed spectacularly last night," she says, before starting on her last honey-filled tortilla.

You ask Cuane more about the chieftess, now knowing a bit about her to frame your questions.

"Well, like I said earlier, she’s pretty nice,” she begins. “Chieftess Muyal tries to act intimidating and strong with her threats of ‘punishment’, but often times it’s something silly and inconsequential, like making somepony wear face paint for a day, or fetch something for her from the jungle. I don’t know why she wants to see you, but I guess we’ll find out soon.”

You also ask her if she’s free for today.

”Yeah, mostly, I offered to be your guide knowing that I’d be able to escort you around freely for a few days. The things I have to do can wait if I can hang out with an Equestrian pony!” She continues jubilantly.

Once you’re done eating, Cuane brings you to a basin with a pot of water outside the back entrance of the hut. She helps you wash what’s left of the paints from last night, leaving you feeling clean and refreshed. Once you’ve been made presentable, she loops her tail tip around your foreleg and begins escorting you back to Chieftess Muyal’s pyramid. As you trot, you notice that Cuane’s tail feels much softer and smoother than it did yesterday, and just feeling it subtly slide across your fur as you move makes you feel like it’s positively electrified. Indeed, there’s just something about Cuane that feels different today, for the better, but you still can’t tell exactly what. As you ponder, you find that you are already at the stone pyramid. Cuane greets the guards, who let the two of you in without resistance. You pass through the antechamber and enter the throne room. Pakal and the other guard are still there, dutifully flanking Muyal’s sides, but her ‘pets’ are curiously absent.

Mural’s eyes light up as she sees you. ”Ah, you’ve come at last. Everylamia, leave us, I wish to speak with the visitor privately,” she says with a wave of her foreleg.

The guards, along with Cuane, bow and go to slither out.

”I’ll wait for you just outside,” she whispers into your ear before leaving.

Once the others have left, closing the great wooden door of the throne room. With a sultry look in her eyes, Muyal meets your gaze, and you find yourself unable to look away as her magnificent shimmering coils gracefully flow down the stone steps leading down from her seat. You gulp as she gets close, slowly slithering around you in a wide circle, her eyes darting around your features as if she were inspecting you.

”You know, when I gave you permission to participate, I did not expect you to actually go through with it. I wanted to see what you’d do…and you didn’t disappoint~” she says as she continues to slither around, only stopping when there was a wide ring of her serpentine body surrounding you as you stood. ”In fact, I was quite surprised that you allowed Cuane to mesmerize you, especially after I showed off the prisoners to you yesterday. I was thinking that you would suspect that the festival was an elaborate plot to sacrifice or devour you, and you’d gallantly fly into the night in a bold escape from the ‘savages.’ You must really trust her for having known her for less than a full day,” Muyal continues. “I’m sure she’s told you that slavery is outlawed here, but the magical abilities of the Coatl tribe are quite strong. She could have left all sorts of suggestions in that handsome little head of yours. Did you perhaps notice today if she asked you to do something, and you just did it as if it was second nature? Or perhaps musing that you could extend your vacation?”

Before you can speak, you feel Muyal’s tail tip poke through your mane before running down your neck and down your back, making you shiver at its cool touch.

”Enjoying my tail, are you? You certainly enjoyed it last night,” Muyal says with a wink. “I must say, I did quite enjoy almost smothering you in my coils, all while your handsome little eyes spiraled madly with Cuane’s spell. Do you remember it? I don’t blame you if you don’t. Our powers are usually…overwhelming to a first timer. But, I think you’ll find that repeat conditioning will let you keep your awareness while under, although without your will~"

You ask if that’s a warning…or an offer.

”Hmm, bold of you to assume it’s either, visitor,” Muyal continues with a soft chuckle. “I’m merely stating what I’ve seen. It’s up to you to decide what to do with that information.”

Her tail tip slithers up and pinches your chin, forcing you to look at her. You can feel a certain magnetism in her beautiful eyes, similar to the one you felt last night as Cuane hypnotized you, but not nearly as intense.

”…My point is, if you trusted Cuane so much, then I suppose I will trust you in turn,” she says with a low, sultry voice. “I hereby give you permission to go about our lands unescorted. Go where you wish, see what you please…”

Her tail tip slithers along your chin as she moves back towards her throne, scales flowing against the bottom of your jaw all the way until her thickest portions before breaking off.

”Just do not make me regret my decision,” she says as she slithers back up the steps onto her throne. “Or do. Trust me, I would simply adorehaving a pegasus in my coils.”

Her giggle makes you feel a bit worried.

”You are dismissed. Send in the others as you leave,” she says with a wave of her hoof.

With that, you leave the throne room. In the antechamber, a single nod to the guards lets them know that they can enter again. Cuane slithers up to you again, quickly wrapping her tail tip around your foreleg.

”So, how did it go? What did she say?” She asks with undeniable excitement in her voice.

You tell her about your meeting, about Muyal's sly insinuations, and about how you've gotten free reign to go about the city.

"Really, that's wonderful!" Cuane says, her tail wiggling like a puppy's, before her face grows solemn. "Well, I guess you don't need me to take you everywhere anymore."

You also tell her that just because you don't need her around doesn't mean you don't WANT her around. Cuane beams and hugs you, throwing her tail around the two of you and squeezing hard. You feel the wind knocked out of you, but you're let go within seconds. Cuane smiles, and gently unravels her tail from your hoof. It feels a little naked though, after having grown so used to it. You'd also like to tell her that you'd like to take her out to dinner as thanks.

"...Take...me out to dinner?" She says, smiling awkwardly.

You notice that it's less her trying to let you down and more that she seems genuinely confused. You're a little heartbroken, but you tell her that it's fine.

"N-no! I really would like it, it's just...how does one get taken out for dinner?" She asks

...

You tell her that you take her to a restaurant.

Absolute poker face.

You tell her that they're places where you pay to get served a full cooked meal.

"You mean like paying someone to have you as a guest?" She asks.

You're a bit shocked, and point out that the tribe has individuals who run food stands in the streets.

"Those are just for getting food during the day. We coatls almost always return to our homes to cook meals ourselves. The times we don't are when there's a feast for a festival or if we are being treated as guests. We don't really have 'restaurants' as you describe them," she says.

Hmm, bit of a predicament, you realize. For as modern as they seem, the Coatls definitely still have the feeling of a jungle tribe. You are utterly speechless at the revelation that there are no restaurants in the Coatl tribe. Your first instinct is to offer to cook for Cuane

"Oh, to give me the experience? Sure! I'd love to try this 'restaurant' thing!" She says, clapping her hooves together excitedly.

One thing you've noticed with the Coatl tribe is that they are much more expressive with their forelimbs than most ponies are. Pegasi rival them while flying, but only because they are the only ones to mimic the constant upright posture of a lamia pony reared up in slither position. It's quite interesting. Everything about Cuane is interesting. Ever since you woke up, you've just felt this strange attraction to her that makes you want to spend time with her.

And spend time you do.

The two of you spend the whole day together, hanging out as Cuane shows you all of the sacred sights and temples around the city, resting with you beside a river as she tells the story of her tribe, and teasing you about how unfortunate you are to not have a serpent tail. Eventually, afternoon turns to evening, and the two of you return to Cuane's hut. You tell her to sit right at her table, and she coils herself in a nice little pile to sit on. Well, 'little' would be a misnomer; her serpent tail is a tremendous mass, all things considered. However, mother always taught you to never ask a cute mare her length! You tell Cuane that at this point, she would be given a menu and she'd have a chance to look it over and pick whatever she wanted.

"Whatever I wanted? They'd have that much food ready?" Cuane asks, almost stunned.

You tell her that they'd need to cook it first, and that because business was reliable, they could prepare and make things go quickly.

"Oh my, everypony together, feasting? Almost every night? It sounds wonderful!" She exclaims. "I MUST visit Equestria some day!"

Regardless, you ask her what she'd like for the evening.

"Oh, my, what do you know how to cook?" Cuane asks.

You're feeling lucky. You tell her that you know many dishes.

"Well, then I would like some ātōlli with tomatoes and chili peppers, please," Cuane says, closing her eyes and smiling.

...A-what? Still, you can't back down now. You tell her that you'll get it right away, and that the meal is on the house tonight, which elicits a cute giggle. You head towards the hearth. It's a simple mud oven with a crude metal grating over an opening. There's a flat iron griddle and a single pot off to the side, with a single knife and spoon both hanging on a hook attached to a wall. Looking at the shelf, you see a pouch of GROUND CORN, DRIED GRASSHOPPERS (yuck!), sack of TOMATOES, ears of CORN, DRIED CHILI PEPPERS, DRIED PRICKLY PEARS, pouch of SPICES, and a single HUGE SQUASH. This is in addition to the HUGE JUG OF WATER next to the shelf. It's a simple set of ingredients, surely you won't mess this up!

You think for a moment, pondering what ātōllicould possibly be. Suddenly, it hits you. You can check your Equestrian Geographic magazine! You retrieve it from your bag and flip through the pages

Sure enough, the author talks about the delicious ātōlli and how it's made. It's not as detailed as a cookbook, but you're able to follow what's written, combining it with your own cooking experience. In the end, you end up making a scrumptious corn porridge, with stewed tomatoes and strips of chili for flavor. You pour it into a couple of earthenware bowls, serving it steaming hot on the table.

"Oh wow, you really CAN make ātōlli! And here I thought that you'd get in over your head," Cuane says, looking at the gruel with genuine surprise.

She makes a small donut with her serpentine body, providing you a soft, plush spot to sit as you eat. It feels weird sitting on her, but you aren't going to complain about the silky smooth scales on your rump. Cuane grabs the bowl with both hooves and brings it up to her mouth to drink. You do likewise, after all, you want to show Cuane you have good manners, at least by Coatl standards. The ātōlli isn't amazing, but it's not that bad either. The tomatoes balance the heat of the chili peppers, and the corn porridge is a solid, filling base. You drink a few more gulpfuls, then set it down to breathe and cool down your mouth from the peppers.

"Pony ātōlli is a bit mild compared to ours, but also is cooked in a way that softens the vegetables into lumps that melt in the mouth. It's amazing! You must teach me how to cook it before you leave!" Cuane says, cupping her bowl before going in for more.

You breathe a sigh of relief, before resuming your own meal. The two of you continue to engage in small talk over dinner, before eventually drinking the last of the ātōlli. Cuane did go back for seconds, finishing off the pot, which stroked your ego. Then again, she did have much more mass to feed than you did, with her giant snake tail and all. The two of you work together to rinse off the pots and bowls outside of the hut, cleaning them before anything can stick to the untreated surfaces. By the time you're finished, the moon is high in the sky, and you can't stop yourself as you yawn.

"Are you getting tired? So am I," Cuane says. "It's about that time. I prepared you a hammock last night, though I don't know how comfortable that was. You may sleep with me if you'd like."

You gulp hard. You didn't expect Cuane to be so forward.

"I would have let you sleep in my coils last night, but you were not of your right mind. Now that you're lucid, I feel much more comfortable about offering it. It's a normal practice, nothing special," she adds.

Oh...thank goodness, you think...though you're not sure if you'd decline if she meant what you originally thought she meant...

"If you want to sleep in the hammock, that's fine. I just thought I'd offer this to you," she concludes as she begins to bundle her serpentine form for herself to sleep on.

You're very eager to just throw yourself on those beautifully banded loops of Cuane's tail. However, you also feel a little bit uncomfortable doing something so...intimate...with a mare that you just met two days ago. You take a moment to explain this.

"Hmm, well, I'm honored that you're so considerate. I suppose we of the Coatl tribe sometimes forget that the rest of the world does not share our lack of taboos around touch. I can assure you that I will not do anything to you that I won't do to anypony else. If you still want to sleep on the hammock, I understand," Cuane says with a solemn, but understanding look.

You do feel a little conflicted, and a part of you feels like passing up on this will mean you won't get a chance to experience it again. You ask Cuane if she promises to be respectful.

"Yes, I promise," she replies.

Will cautious steps, you approach her. As you get close, you begin to absorb just how massive Cuane's serpent half is. It didn't seem so bad while she was stretched out and slithering around, but its bulk is more visible now that it's all curled up together. Cuane extends a segment of her thickest portion, patting it invitingly with her hoof as if it were a seat. You delicately climb on, and try to sit up with your forelegs at your sides. Balancing is a little awkward, but you suddenly feel the giant tube of muscle heave around you and curles around your midsection. It's not tight, but the sheer weight alone makes your hooves feel pinned. It feels strange, but somwhat familiar; you feel like you experienced something like this last night, but can't quite remember anything in the haze of spirals. Cuane's red, yellow, and black bands on her scales almost remind you of them, a swirling vortex that seems to pull you in...literally. The ring of muscle heaves itself, lifting you into the air as if you were weightless. You can feel the sheer strength in Cuane's serpentine body as you're suspended. If she wanted to, you have no doubt that she could crush you to death in an instant. Yet, her coils have an incredibly level of control, holding you like a firm hug as she curls around you twice more, one above your midsection to trap the barrel of your chest, and the other below to seize your flanks and the upper part of your body hind heels. They loosen enough for gravity to slowly slip you down, until the chest coil now rests around your neck, cradling your jaw. She spins you once to finish winding around your exposed legs, with only the very bottom of your hind hooves visible. You struggle a little, not in any attempt to escape, but to simply feel Cuane's hug all around you. You've known some touch-feely ponies in the past, but this single embrace goes beyond anything you've ever experienced.

You can feel Cuane all around you, from the slow rise and fall of her chest to the subtle twitches and slips of her scales sliding over your fur. The coil aroud your neck curls up around the back of your skull, and Cuane delicately lowers you down horizontally onto the rest of her snake tail forming a pile.

"Are you comfortable?" Cuane asks timidly

You nod, well, at least as much as the coil around your neck will let you. It feels like a gigantic, smoother version of those neck pillow you see ponies wear occassionally on long train rides.

"Alright, well, if you ever want to be let out, just tell me to wake up. I'm a fairly light sleeper," Cuane says.

Her pony half manuevers to the hanging net full of fireflies that had been providing light, throwing a cloth over it to dim the whole hut, and snuggles up besides you. You know the instant she falls asleep, as you can feel her breathing shift as the coils rise and lower all around you. The embrace is firm, but not uncomfortable. It actually makes you think of that full-body press you got one time at a spa. In fact, the more you just relax and simply absorb the whole thing, the more enjoyable it becomes. All the gentle twitching as Cuane's body reflexively adjust its grip is like the gentlest of caresses, and her cold-blooded body acts like a heat sink so that you don't get too hot all bundled up. You can't move, but at the same time, you don't want to. Being coiled is truly unlike anything you've ever felt. You feel an unreal connection with Cuane as your breathing slowly adjusts to synchronize with her own. You stretch your immobile limbs as best you can against the thick gel-like consistency of Cuane's serpentine muscles before you shut your eyes. The supreme comfort of the whole thing ferries you off to slumber instantly.

...

Your dreams are a wild mess of disconnected scenes. You see Cuane in your childhood home, before flashing forwards to running through a cargo hold on a boat looking for something. Your movements feel sluggish and heavy, even in the scenes where you're freely running around. How they all fit together is incomprehensible; you wish that Princess Luna would grace your dreams one night to grant you the lucidity and understanding that only comes with her presence. But, few ponies are that lucky, especially since you are at the fringes of Equestria's borders. There is one thing that stays constant throughout your dreaming; shimmering pulses of neon black, red, and yellow always color your field of vision, yet you behave like nothing is there. The effect gets stronger the further into your dream you venture. Eventually, you find yourself standing on stage at the festival the previous night, except instead of an audience, fire surrounds you and Cuane.

Just as she's about to turn towards you, the dream collapses into a black void, and your eyes flutter open to see the morning sun's light creeping in through a window. An unseen bird sings with chirps that you've never heard before. Unable to do much else, you turn your head to see Cuane still asleep. She looks simply adorable with her mouth open, flopped over one of her coils as if it was a throw pillow, snoozing away. You decide to let her sleep. She's so peaceful...waking her up would be a crime. You try to slip out of the coils yourself. However, you find that the more you try to squirm, the tighter they become. Cuane is still quite asleep...could this be some sort of reflex? You try to be very slow and methodical, but even then the vice is inescapable. By the time you have to fight against the tensing muscles to take full breaths, you decide to stop trying to escape. The coils hold their level of tightness, not relaxing as you'd hoped would happen if you stopped moving around. It's not painful or suffocating, but a little uncomfortable. Plus, you're getting a little hungry...

At least, Cuane's coils feel nice as they warm up from the sunlight creeping ever so slowly across them as the sun rises.

You close your eyes to go back to sleep, figuring that you can spend a bit more time enjoying the scaly embrace before Cuane wakes up. However, after a couple of minutes, you notice one crucial detail. Your bladder, as it does every morning, begins pestering you for release. You try to ignore it, but the sensation grows with each passing minute. You try to find some way to gently rouse Cuane, but your limbs are fully bound, and you can't even move your muzzle downwards to bump her with your snout due to the plush serpent muscle cradling your jaw. You try to slowly loosen the coils by shifting your limbs, but that just has the opposite effect, making them squeeze even firmer. As you squirm, you can't help but blush as you feel them seize your tender flanks and belly, feeling just a hint of arousal as those fine textured scales grip your body like a lover. You're able to contain yourself, barely; you really don't want to creep Cuane out. Still, you continue to fidget as the tightness from Cuane's reflexively-constricting coils becomes almost pleasant, like it's squeezing the stress from your muscles. Fortunately, the sunlight finally reaches Cuane's face, and her eyes flutter open. She rears up, stretching her forelegs as she yawns and looks over to you.

Her eyes shoot open and her coils loosen all around you. "Oh, I'm sorry, I should have told you to just wake me up instead of trying to get out of my coils yourself," Cuane says as you crawl out of the loose, but still heavy, loops. "I hope it wasn't too unpleasant."

You tell her that it's fine, and you quickly rush out of the hut to relieve yourself. As you gallop, she looks at you quizzically.

"...Ponies are so weird," she whispers to herself.

...

The next few days are some of the best in your life. Cuane takes care of you, showing you the best parts of the lost city and making sure you have a great time. She even took you to a temple, where you participated in a religious ceremony by tossing a bundle of hay that had been dyed red into an open flame. They even let you take pictures!

Still, the good times couldn't last, and the week that you had allocated for this vacation flew by in what felt like an instant. Eventually, the day came for you to leave. Your eyes flutter open as you awaken, and it's the first time in several days that you've awoken with a frown on your face. You wish that you could stay longer, but you have obligations that you can't just ignore without consequence. You're able to shimmy out of the coils, since Cuane taught you a trick where twisting your body back and forth would cause them to loosen instead of tighten. She's still asleep, so you brew a cup of the local morning pick-me-up that uses ground cocoa beans instead of coffee. It doesn't have as much caffeine, but it tastes crisp and refreshing with hints of the chocolatey taste you know and love, and it's so good that you even had acquired a small bag of the stuff to take back home with you by exchanging one of the small jade tablets from your golden neckpiece. As you gaze upon Cuane's sleeping form while you sip your drink, you begin to think of how you'll say goodbye. The trip back home is long, and you should probably leave before noon if you want to catch the train that'll take you home. Still, that leaves enough time to do a few small things.

...If only Cuane didn't enjoy sleeping in so late

For a while, you begin to think what would be so bad about just staying here? Your friends, your family, your job...all of it seems so tempting to just throw away and begin a new life among the Coatl tribe. Just you and Cuane...forever...

You shake your head. Tempting as it is, you can't just leave everything behind, even if Cuane is beautiful and kind. Still, you have an idea. Cuane wakes up, rousing herself and flexing her coils.

"Good morning," she says with her bubbly voice as she quickly gets to making the usual honeyed tortilla breakfast you've grown quite fond of. She even wraps slices of mango in it, for a special treat. "So, I guess you'll need to get going soon," Cuane says with a solemn gaze. "I figured one last really good breakfast would give you the strength you need for your journey."

As you eat, you notice she's much more quiet than she usually is at breakfast. You can't say that you blame her. You thank her for all she's done, and for making this past week the best one in your life.

"Oh gosh, you're welcome," she says, her blush apparent even against her pink fur. "It's just, you were so excited, trotting around when you first arrived. You were so excited when taking my picture, even though I was caught off guard. I hope that it still looks good, so you'll have something to remember me by."

You tell her that you were thinking of giving it to her when she visits.

"Visit? W-what do you mean?" She says as her slit pupil dilate with anticipation.

You tell her that you would be honored to have her as a guest at your home, and you could show her around an Equestrian city just as you showed her around hers.

"Y-you really mean it?" Cuane squeals before lunging at you, wrapping both her tail and forelegs around you in a strong, affectionate hug...really strong, you felt like you heard something pop.

She releases you a few seconds later, smiling awkwardly.

"Wow, I would love to," Cuane says, looking deeply and affectionately into your eyes. "You mean, right now? Gosh, this is so sudden..."

You tell her that you'd need some time to get everything ready. You'd be willing to pay for her train ticket, and you'd need to clear out your house to make room for her.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Cuane says, coming down from her excitement. "I will make it up to you, don't worry."

You tell her that Equestria's postal delivery service is one of the best in the world, able to deliver anywhere, and that you'll be sending letters to her to coordinate.

"Wow, I've never gotten mail before! How will I know if I do it correctly?" She asks.

You tell her that you say a small post office in the nearest pony town, and that they'll be able to help as long as she saves the letters you send her so that she'll have your address.

"Wow, I don't know what to say," she says, with tears welling in her eyes. "Never did I think ponies could be so kind."

It's nothing, you assure her, which prompts another hug from her. As strange being squeezed so hard that the air is robbed from your lungs, you're going to miss it. The two of you finish up breakfast, pack your things, and make your way towards the entrance of the lost city where you had initially arrived. Even though it was unnecessary, Cuane had gotten into the habit of looping her tail tip around your front hoof while you were together. Your enjoyment of it is beyond words. The two of you finally reach the large stone pillars that you passed under when you first got here. You're glad that you were brave and didn't try to sneak around, otherwise you wouldn't have met this lovely mare.

"Well, I guess this is it," Cuane says, looping from your hoof after a few moments of hesitation.

The two of you embrace one last time. You are caught by surprise when you feel a quick kiss on your cheek. You break the embrace, feeling flushed.

Cuane giggles. "I'll be waiting for your letter," she says with a wink.

With that, Cuane turns around and begins to slither off, waving goodbye with her tail tip as she does so. You stand there for a few minutes, looking beet red as you try to absorb her little gift. Then, with a spring in your step and a flutter in your heart, you spread your wings and take off. After an hour of flying, you finally reach the nearest town with a train station. You barely have time to grab lunch before it's time to board your train. You do make sure to eat as much as you can, it's a long way home. You fly into the passenger car just as the conductor is about to close it, much to his chargrin. You find an empty seat, taking off your saddlebags and stretching out to get comfortable on the ride. As you look out the window and see the jungle trees get less and less dense, it begins to sink in that your vacation is finally over. Yet, it isn't the end of your adventure. You're content with the knowledge that Cuane will come and visit you one day. It might need a couple of months, but you'll make sure that everything is ready for her visit.

For now, though, you decide to rest, gaze out the window, and watch the world pass by.