A C(l)og in the Cult

by Septia

Rating: mature
Tags: Fetish, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Death, Alternate Universe, Original Character, Porn
Length: 3991

Grease Pan gets tied to a cult who pledge themselves to slide down her gullet and out her hinds. Then she takes revenge.

(Kink information and guide available in the full description.)

This is your warning~.

Be careful where you step in the big city, you never know when you might drop down a manhole and become the new deity of an underground cult.
Off Cult Escapades.

I wrote this story as a commission for Naarkerotic:, with their characters Grease pan and Dummy.

Proofreader for this story was Dendollae, many thanks to them.

The icon was drawn by :iconname:, many thanks to them.

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(Character Quote: "MMmffw, agwwfmasmmpdff" -Grease Pan)

(Quick guide:

Unwilling pred, captured pred, willing prey, cult vore, soft oral vore, same size, disposal ( post-vore scat ).

After 1st: Multiple oral vore, slide, instant digestion, hyper scat, unwilling to willing.

After 2nd: A shift in perspective, multiple vore, respawning, horrid implications, unleashed.

After 3rd: Cock Vore, Post vore, huge gut, massaging, post hyper dump, casual UB.)

(Legend:

Cent: Short term for centimetre.
Deci: Short term for decimetre.
Chronicle: A series of stories conneted but not sequential. Ongoing stories without regular updates. Rapacitor: A predator who eats for the sake of greed and gluttony.)

Available for writing Commissions.

[Story preview:

“Uurnkg…”The exhausted sense of grogg pooled out of Grease pan with her sigh. The mare's ears ringing as they flicked up, eyes adjusting to the blur of light and shadows taking shape from the shadows.
“Fhgus… dicks and horse apples, my head…” Grease pan mumbled.
“-s aw…e… turn… of. Pa…way.”
There was a drone and voices were near. Grease raised a hoof to her forehead. -kktnghkt-Or, attempted to as the clang of metal shackles underlined. The realisation of her restraints roused her to revert her mental railways from casual to combat. With a surge of adrenaline the unicorn forced her eyes and ears open, assaulted by a cacophony of sensory input around her. First, Hooves; her legs were shackled in floor clamps, bolted into the metal flooring. Then, her back; a harness of rebar grafted on her back to pin her in place, its construction interfacing with the exposed cybernetics of her spine. A murk of rust dripping with leaked oil burrowed into her senses, making her relate to the walls embroidered with gaping cavities of lacking maintenance. In front of her… a large, black stretch, of rubber?
“She awakens, the Arch-pan awakens.” A pony announced to a crowd stemming up in a chorus of humms, though some broke through with squeals and giddy intakes of air.
“What in the moons name…” Grease Pan thought back. She could remember getting the chance to try out some new tech on the range over the week, then heading off to the club with Wi-fi on the weekend and… then… there was nothing that tied into how she'd ended up with this… this? These…?

Continued in the story above.]

Published 2021-08-27 19:40:00 UTC
Last updated 2021-08-27 19:40:00 UTC

A C(l)og in the Cult [Disposal]

Written by Septia.

“Uurnkg…”The exhausted sense of grogg pooled out of Grease pan with her sigh. The mare's ears ringing as they flicked up, eyes adjusting to the blur of light and shadows taking shape from the shadows.

“Fhgus… dicks and horse apples, my head…” Grease pan mumbled.

“-s aw…e… turn… of. Pa…way.”

There was a drone and voices were near. Grease raised a hoof to her forehead. -kktnghkt-Or, attempted to as the clang of metal shackles underlined. The realisation of her restraints roused her to revert her mental railways from casual to combat. With a surge of adrenaline the unicorn forced her eyes and ears open, assaulted by a cacophony of sensory input around her. First, Hooves; her legs were shackled in floor clamps, bolted into the metal flooring. Then, her back; a harness of rebar grafted on her back to pin her in place, its construction interfacing with the exposed cybernetics of her spine. A murk of rust dripping with leaked oil burrowed into her senses, making her relate to the walls embroidered with gaping cavities of lacking maintenance. In front of her… a large, black stretch, of rubber?

“She awakens, the Arch-pan awakens.” A pony announced to a crowd stemming up in a chorus of humms, though some broke through with squeals and giddy intakes of air.

“What in the moons name…” Grease Pan thought back. She could remember getting the chance to try out some new tech on the range over the week, then heading off to the club with Wi-fi on the weekend and… then… there was nothing that tied into how she'd ended up with this… this? These…?

“Witness, Look, members in the Order Off, ascend. The Arch-Pan rises.”

Pan’s eyes honed in on the speaker, a stallion near her own tall stature. Coat a sky cyan and mane of fluffy pink cotton veiled by the tattered grey cloak, walking upwards along the steps that stretched either side of her towards the top. Several of the robed figures followed him, others coming to her side, fiddling with the machinery of the caged holster trapping her.

“Hey, dummy. Mind filling me in here?” She called up to the stallion.

Several in the crowd gasped, a griffon mumbling, “Dummy?”

And then the word spread between them.

The stallion's face contorted into a smile. “A-ah, she has graced me with a title, An honor that proves m-my, no, all our devotion,” he called out, then made a gesture to the ponies working on Pan's seals.

Grease pan watched them tie a rope around the end of the rubber sheet in front of her, constricting the tip to a funnel… wait. From the inclined angle stuck near the end of the stairs, she hadn't realised until now. The rubber was a slide, seemingly matching the ones in the playgrounds of the industrial complex, but sheered to fit the size of the five meter high stairs.

Peeking back she saw metal plates flattened and grafted onto the bionic of her hind, connecting back a final stretch of rubber leading to the ground.

“What is-fmfmpg-.” turning her head back, she had the end of the funnel crammed into her muzzle, ropes tied back to holster her head taut, maw pied open by the broad pit of polymer. “Mfmpsgs, wmahgha-ghasmgaw-,” she mouthed with a strain.

“Order Off, our time has come. A gateway to ascension has parted their maw willingly for you all.”

'Cult of what?' Pan wondered 'What was that about ascending?'

“J-just, ensure, that your connection to the tech grid has been entirely nullified, or it would interfere with the sacred processes of the Arch-Pan.”

Grease Pan stared up in confusion as a line was forming at the top, a Griffin first in line discarding their cloak. “Finally, the Grid will hold no power of me.” The Griffin panted out.

“Exactly, when you wake up, it will be through natural magic, and no infectious mainframe. The cotton candy mane’d leader ensured.

“MGMprhhguaglah? Hrlp?” Grease pan mouthed, confusion reverberated through the rubber funnel.

“Is it time? To engage?”

A pony by Pans side wondered.

“Eh? What?” The dummy shook.

“Pure nectar injection?”

“Ah, ah yes, erhm, proceed.”

Grease Pan shuddered due to a prick at her spine, the slapdash technology interfacing through their cybernetics, a chill coursed through her, the moment later set ablaze with an injection piercing through her veins. -Gbrh- It roused through her whole barrel, circulating in her shaking breaths. -BGBrllglgshs- A Guttural growl of her abdomen echoed in the rusted chamber, to the elation of the members by her side.

“Do you hear?” Dummy asked the crowd. “That. Is redemption beckoning, the gateway is prepared for you.”

'They're gonna plunge down my throat.' Grease confirmed in her thoughts. They had dropped their horseshoes as if they thought anything would be gained by it.

“Are you ready?” Dummy asked the griffin.

“Ooh… M-my body is aching with shudders all over.”

“Then, you are ready,” Dummy wrapped his hoof around her shoudler and shoved her onto the slide, grand humms maintained by the members as she picked up speed along the rubber arch.

“See you on the other side.” Dummy called out.

Grease shifted, gunning as the griffin sloped towards her, passing into the funnel stuffed into her mouth. Disappearing behind the reach of the-… -Bghrllgphtuhs-gssmogsphgp- Grease felt her gullet explode in width, engorging with the griffin's contours bumping up at her neck and chin, spilling over her affixed shoulders. -BBGmgnghhchs- Her flesh rippling as the involuntary swallows drained them deeper, the bloated imprint folding and rolling down her to stuff her abdomen with fowl and flesh.

“MGmghawahaghssa.” Grease trembled, restricted from interfering or enhancing the sensation of a big, fluttering meal. The ache of her expanding tissue accommodating the birdbrain laying visceral through her veins. -Chfhrllg- -Gbhrhgs- -Cffflslghsgs-s An array of churning and congesting clenches and gurgles roared through her frame, then hearing the -Chhrrnckckstuhc- Crunch of and -Ckkkrpths- snap of bone as her gut steamrolled flat, a rush of boiling cold heat blossoming from her abdomen. The contractions making rhythm with the droning hums of the crazy ponies.

-Fghrlpgs- Her flanks shuddered. -Bbffrrwwwffowwwwlp- A cloud stack of tangerine smog bellowed from her, launching a scattering of feathers to plunge to the floor under the weight of the condensed humidity. -Grbbggglsgs- the grumbling grind of her glutes growing greater through her gutters.

“Fmgshgsmpgs,” Grease wheezed in titillation as her pucker twitched open, withdrew to a sink pit, then bulged to disgorge an expanse of raw manure. -Shcrrlpchs- The crinkling of conceiving a congealed cucumber gel -Shbrllpghths- convulsed through her cheeks. A stench of pickled chicken and cheese rinds intoxicating the air as the droves of congealed fudge gems creaked their way out of the mare's cheeks. Her pucker stretching -hspsptsh- and morphing around boulders of tainted plot pudding, -Cblfpths- bubbles of trapped air still boiling up at he surface through the lining crevices of molten horse apples, sending rivers of liquid bowel fluids tainted in the hazy grime of the manure to venture along the fractures. Grease pan huffed and groaned as her hind divulged the slop of griffin back onto the slide, the heaps of thick muck globules bending through her cheeks and sloughing along under the lubrication of its own silt melting composition to -Chdflpthts- daub onto the floor, flatting its doughy texture to soak up old grease and coal dust from the ground as the -GHGsrlpths- kilos of raw bowel muck -Slgbwths- clumped together in a drooping stack of filth. -Spfhththturhts- Grease pan's tail fluttered under the exchange of vapors, plum though with the slick pate of the legless solid aspects of her meal, unable to make sense through the haze of sensations surging through her, not unlike what the fowl just had.

Through it she heard numerous voices cheer, stemming up in louder, harmonized hums and crones.

’Dmngs, wanna say they went through smooth, but they really didn't’, she thought and huffed, her insides lost in a sardonic confusing of lust and the ache of having worked some pony into dung this fast. She gathering herself, she peered around the room, the chamber was broad enough that to surpass the range of the Tech Grid, which meant that the griffin re-emerged would be in view. And yet…

“They are not returning?” Asked another an acolyte above.

Before Dummy could step in the one behind corrected him. “Can't expect it to be instant, this is natural, and not some tech-scrap.”

“Yes, I-it takes a while to abolish the impurities, and the gate will only close once it accepts no further.” This quelled any hint of worry.

These ponies' got enough screws loosed to build a tank,' Grease thought. If they really meant being disconnected from the Tech Grid, then that heap of steaming flank fudge behind her was all they could look forward to. There was no getting back from that. Despite how much they believed, they would all be… her dung. A tinge of emotion was budding in her chest. Licking her molars and feeling a glint in her gaze, looking over the mass of acolytes. ‘They all lined up for the privilege of being my permanent manure…' All of a sudden, Grease Pan started to feel comfy about this gig.

~ 1 ~

-Ssjjlllff- -Ghoompgh- Another cultist slid down, their last giddy smile cloaked by the black funnel, their joyful squeals -FShfrlprstsht- muted as they morphed down Grease's neck as a bulge of meat. -Ghbbrhgs- -Bhgg-bgglsptsh- whatever cocktail of chemical agents they were pumping into her was slamming her guts into high gear. -Bhrlglpshbhs- -Chrllrpsighghs- Putters of air chugged out of the macerating mulch roused in peppery gurgles through her torso as it melted ponies like butter in a furnace. -Shshstps- -Thtpsgsofftwp- Then another came sliding down, and one more after that. -Cogmpgsho- -Glgpsgusmp- After each one was engulfed in her soggy swallow they packed into her distending stomach, -Fbbfwwbbgbsgs- and forged ahead to keep the rambunctious gut pulsing and shifting in girth. Grease pinched her pucker shut to savour it bursting open in a -Spplfrhhrrrususth- soaked blast of flatulence, the fermented air of dried jerky and marinated figs bubbling out of her pucker in time to make way for the droves of muck to follow.

-Sslllssch- -Twhwotpso- Then another one slotted into her maw, ballooning her cheeks and sinking into her rumbling abdomen. She peeked up and Grumbled, showing she didn't have enough time to sav-.

-Sjjpsthwowpso- and another one, lodged flank-first down her gape and warping out her neck taut on the Acolyte's curled up form. Above she saw Dummy pushing down one eager acolyte after the other, the line of straggle and ponies bumping into one another, -swirw- out of their cloak before it was their turn.

“Ooof you go, and you too fmsm, yes, join, churn and be free.”

“Fmpgmm -ommgpghoths-” Grease pan swallowed again.

She didn't get a moment to breathe in between having another giddy idiot plunged into their throat. Grease could feel the same gasp of air she swallowed with one dragon follow through her body and, bundling along with the fermenting heap and exiting along with it again. -Spflflt- In that moment feeling as nothing more than an extension tube on the slide, everything passing, right through her.

Sure, they were praising her, and queued up to give her their bodies whole and all, but Grease didn't have much of a say in the matter. As Grease Pan watched the crowd congregate up the stairs, and their numbers diminish, she felt herself less the god of this cult, and more in the rule of sacrificial altar.

-Ghgmgpshgso- -googmpgsh- Another thick mare plunged down past her lips, cheeks stuck and grazing past her lips to tease the flavour of lust filled saline and scrumptious fat. -Chgllrpghgbsgsh- -Cjrrlrlpsngjsghs- though it was passed before she knew it, and heading right to the rear in a sluggish -Chflpghgs- bounding heave of churns. -Chrllrpsgghs- -Pfpfrrrrvtt- -Cjrghtpshtsts- Fumes vented as bales of bone riddled caramel billowed through Grease's pucker. -Chlslrpths- her brim kept pried wide, undulating at its limits with its wrinkles plump, stuffed with fresh sewage silt. The onslaught of manure creaked and squealed out of her cheeks ins a sausage of polished clay, -Khrlrlpstsh- -Clpdshts- bending and a smacking into itself with the clap of raw meat ground into a mirror, and -Shwquwellpshs- -Cxrlprsths- squelching like a caravan wading through a congealed marshland. The bundles of stodgy filth dressed in patterns of fractures piled up in the wake of Grease Pan's flanks, -Shsprths- Clumps clap into one another as the end of the slide laid entombed in the remains of the cult. A pattern of deep coffee sump shifting to a gradient of chocolate auburn and ghastly lemon spread cross the disparity of meals clumped and baked together in the span of mere moments, wreacking havoc across the hills of sludge forced to slough backwards with the more thick bales and globules of manure jamming into them form behind. -Shflppshts- Bones from one stack submerged into another, clots of soft serve mulch oozing out of clamped bundles of filth, -Cstlsthst- sprinkled with vertebrae partially embedded and poking out of the mire in various stages of decomposition. -Sptltpclh- -Skrspsprlptish- Bubbles of molten muck burst forth into steam, lacing the air in the pungency of lemon like distilled alcohol. And the raw heat of boiling mincemeat, the brawn of acolytes that were digested with such ruthlessness, -Sffhssb- the hissing of the fumes took on an air of screams, like a pot of tea forgotten on the heater.

All as more eager sacrifices plunged down the slide, Grease Pan was growing sweaty. Her body reeked of vapours from dedicating so much of her energy to break down this many ponies, her legs quivering and rattling in the casing of the claps. There was only so much she was going to savour them as well, within a few seconds anyone that passed her lips was -Sfhrrpbtbs- crawling out her hips again, joining the sprawling mounds of manure batter that stretched forth in all directions from the weight of the oncoming hot flank fudge. The heap piled up, surpassing Grease's livingroom back home, and several segments were consistently tall, rivalling her own height, which would be impressive for any pony.

And yet, despite expending enough manure to feed fields year round, she could barely linger on the delight of being full. Her gut shrinking -Ghslrphts- and mashing the pulp of ponies too quickly. “Mmfmsm mmfpahawam.” She gaped her maw wider, -Bhruaaafhflwp- belching up a plume of guttural humidity, which roused the surrounding crowd even further. They were bunching together on the side. -Ghrllbp- -Ggglsooomrpgh- Going down faster. If she engulfed them quick enough, they'd really -Gbbwngns- congest her tummy, cramped in taut enough for her to savour them, while not individually, but as a whole. Despite being spent in the constant marinating mare manure, she wanted more. It was clear now that she was stuffing away these cultists like snacks. They were peanuts, and a single peanut was never as satisfying as whole hoof-full.

“Mgahgsghbrmspgsh-” -Ogugmpsh- -Lglspsmtps- -Ghrbrhgg-shs- -Gbhrrslls-shg.-. She put away the bombardments of fresh morsels, -Bbwhhgs- her gut spilling out over the stairs despite it thrumming and oscillating with the amount of mulch churning through her system, and it all -Sghhtpthts- deluging from her rear in curling loaves of raw auburn, squelching as dew from a tube and melding, -schslprpthss- smushing together behind her in a sludge-scape of coagulated sap.

~ 2 ~

Mitti bit her lip, seeing griffins, ponies, and diamond dogs, and even dragons take the plunge ahead of her. She was nervous, seeing the pile building up behind the Arch-Pan, she was making her own mud field emanating of stale grit and too much vinaigrette. Her turn was coming up. She looked At Dummy, the one who poke for the Off, and how broadly he smiled even though his hooves trembled. “Come now, the gate might close, get on w-.”

Was all she heard him say before he had pushed offer over the edge, watching ahead in the slope as a diamond dog slipped head first into the abyss -Ogmgpghgs- and even if she was just a hoof length behind, the gape was broad, open, and dripping of drool as she dove in -Slflphthg- -Gbghtoompgh- Gllgmmpurk- Her body clasped taut, and constricted form all sides as the rugose meat massaged and polished her frame with drool, -Spplsthtghs- watching the pit above open, to lead her to a new existence… -Clpghbhghsts- but instead, it dropped her into a mire of acolyte dough, the scalding heat making her sweat into sludge as she sunk into the embrace of the gunk.

-Zxhrrlpcth- “Phaaghaaaau,” Mitti gasped, dust of displaced air dissipating and shattered around her, filling in the empty space as her body rematerialized through the Tech Grid successfully. The sound and light had caught the eye of everyone remaining, unless the amount of acolytes now measured in single digits. But no pony moved a muscle, gawking at the emerged mare.

“OMffmshah, wuts ths bugh hols huahuvmp?" -Bhruaaahaalp- -Fpprffbbrrhwht- -Flpsitgguhs- A stream of flatulence and guttural vapours roared out of each end of Grease Pan, the air growing laced with fermented moisture. -Chhghhgs- -Ckfkprshgs-csgsgpsghs- Her gut was deflating as all its stored sludge -Splbrflfpwsh- sloughed through her spent, gaping dung hatch in a single, cranium clogged, meter wide dung slug, crawl through her pit with the -Shpspthst-s smear of polishing a window with sticks of butter.

Dummy's eyelids twitched. “Y-you, w-were s-still connected?” Dummy stammered.

“IT was a chance I couldn't take,” Mitti huffed, turning all over and brushing over her frame “B-but that was no g-gateway, -tthawt was j-just.-.”

“Hertzhilizher?” Grease pan mouthed with shaking pants through her funnel wedged maw.

“Y-yeah.”

“Fhiwguressh.” Grease huffed, eyes rolling back up her skull as the mare's body revolved against the aching emptiness ruling her body after the uninterrupted surge of flesh.

The Acolytes turned to Dummy. Innocent eyes shooting darts of poison with their gaze.

“You…”

“Aaha, that sis, just, how it is... supposed to, work.”

-Fpbbrrpths- A thick puff of flatulence punctuated his stence. “Aawha ywha thaws gshoods…” Grease pan mumbled below, “tummy hurts.” she mumbled.

With the cult acolytes closing on Dummy, Mitti tumbled her way down the stairs, and disengaged grease Pan's harness, fiddling to unlock the hoof clamps securing her legs to the ground, and finally, threading off the mouth harness, -slfpbtbthsts- a saliva drenched funnel dropping to the ground.

“Pha ahghas. Hey, thanks fms… I owe you one, She huffed out, then took a shaking step up the stairs, “but I'm not done yet… Hey,” She called out, all eyes drawing back to her as she crawled up the stairs. “The Arch-Pan is still wide open…” she said, trailing her tongue along her dry lips, smearing saliva to smack them rich and full, as she ascended the steps to tower over the remaining acolytes, “on top of that, throughout all this, you've kept me from satisfying another hunger,” She huffed, a trickle of viscous fluid drippling form her crotch, “but I think we can come to a mutual agreement, right? It s for your goddess.” Grease grinned.

~ 3 ~

“MWMPfhgh, amwpdhw wmpadhs mspg” -shrlrlrstushgsp-.” Grease groaned, lapping her tongue over a cloaked flank, gnawing down on the hind and scooping it deeper, inflating her cheeks before -Sllrphs- -Ommpghts- her tongue scooped up the stallion flanks -gmpgsh- and sent it trailing down her neck, bulges bumping and smushing to and fro as it gradually expanded her skin on its way down, in a cozy, satisfying pace. “Mmfs, oh yeah…” She mumbled and brushed her hooves down to her snatch. Leaning backwards -Shflrlprbchhtths- into the heap of cooling, expanse of clay, -shsh- -chshfsh- gyrating her rear to carve out a nice seat into the sinking embrace of lukewarm mulch.

“Mfmpfhwfs fspgsh-gmpwghs,” muffled squeals came from her stuffed sack, two crowded in the bottom of the opening and one stuffed into the urethra, her flesh warping and confining around the outlines of the the wriggling ponies as she scratched over her engorged abdomen. -GBbgshgs- Sinking her hoof down on the way to let bulges and pantomimes of vague faces sail up on her gut to sink back down, scratching around her crotch. “Mmfs, smogs,” she huffed and pumped gently, shuffling her crotch forwards into the air to clasp -Slclspths- a tighter grasp of the acolytes as her mat purse gnawed and sprawled ever forwards, until… -Mmfpfhwht- -sthslpsts- a “Mfmpfgh-gmpsgs-” a final thrust forwards let the pussy devour them all, sealing back over the warped contours as the ponies stuffed into her abdomen, blotting out her tummy with their languid squishes and sloughing -sflpghgs- heaves. “Nmfsm MSFS ohms… oh yeahs, oh fmms been holdings, of this… ins… sofm long you nfms-. Jerks…” She grunted, gritting her teeth and arching her way up. “Mfhaaa,” howling as the bumps on her lower abdomen sunk in, -Slpfththgs- and through the oscillating nether lips a thick batter of ivory mare cream drooled forth in hot, slimy droves, onto her hoof and stretching out in a web of glistening tethers trickling through her snatch and coursing through the fractures in the untold kilos of mare fudge surrounding her. A salty breeze of bronze and gratification emanating from her crotch as she kneaded around her snatch.

“FMsh phaaa… haaaa… hoo.Yeah…” She mumbled, eyelids flicking in a haze as a true calm and satisfaction seeped through her veins. -ffllrrhts- -ffllstts- a hissing of fluids freely began to pour out of her pussy, a beam of a musky golden amber arcing from the lust drenched slit and sprinkling onto the ground ahead of her -Slfpfhthsts- -sldlpsths- -bflslpts- the manure sloshing and melting into trenches around the streaming, steamy piss, rising up in clouds around the etchings she carved through the congealed butt fudge. The Pungent, tart air cutting through the haze of stinking, but molten, meaty manure with its citrine tang of copper boiling in white vinegar.

“Foo. Hoaa…” she sighed, and shifted about, lounging to the side, and unveiling Dummy lodged in the muck behind her, having formed a crater in the thick filth as she sat back on him to enjoy her spoils. -Sfhrlflpthts- The muck drew off of him in a smatter of old glue as she drew him over to he gut. “Gimme one good reason not to stuff you where not even the moon shines? Other than your stench.” She posed to him.

Somewhere behind the veil of fluster, Dummy tried to respond. “I… w-well when I found alt-these, o-order I thought, they would look, s-so much better as y-your manure.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

He nodded.

“You did this?”

He quivered and hid his muzzle, nodding again.

“Mmm. Shame,” Grease mused, and tugged him tighter, “watching him steam and quiver, “I was feeling a bit empty.” She peered off to the corner. “Ehey, Mitti?”

“Y-yeah?” The mare responded, and waddled forth.

“You still tethered to the tech grid?”

“Ah, y-yeah?”

“Smashing…” she mumbled and hooked around her head with her cybernetic claws, and -Sllptthhcsbhts- plunged the mare's face into her gaping, oozing pussy, grinding and wiping her head to muzzle around in her snatch, and stuffing her deeper in -Scllspths- -Crpthths- light, rhythmic thrusts. “Mmfms, phaa.” She mused and huffed as her lips warped and contracted to sculpt around the outline of the wriggling mare.

“Seems like I owe you two now, Mfms, thanks sweet buddy,” -Splldchhthc- and with a squelch of jamming a wad of gum through a straw, -scbhgpgntsh- her pussy clutched a hold around Mitti, kneading her in he the drenched lust canal as she lounged back and tugged Dummy in to her chest, wrapping him up in an embrace of cuddles, “Mmf, s tthtgms, mm that just really hit the spot.” -Bgurhaarrruwplp-.