Ember swallows an OC, and it is in a fetish way

by NormalVoreForNormalVeopl

Rating: mature
Tags: Ember, Profanity, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Original Character, Porn, Fetish, Comedy, Random, Sex
Length: 3633

Shining Armor is not in this.

Written as a commission for Star Sage, the only person who has ever suggested a vore story. Ever. Art is by me, made for an unrelated project (shh) and reused because I didn't feel like photoshopping a dragon in there. Don't worry, Shining Armor will be dommed in a story soon enough.

EMBER HAD 420 STORIES BEFORE THIS ONE WHOOP WHOOP

The dog pic. Sidenote, are people here old enough to get what my username is referencing?

Published 2022-08-04 05:50:00 UTC
Last updated 2022-08-04 05:50:00 UTC

Dragon Politics and Vore Porn

The question of whether the Dragon Lands can even be considered a 'civilization' has been raised many times over. The no-pony's land East of Central Equestria was composed of Mesa Ranges and immense craters, the closest thing the planet had to a simulation of the Moon's surface. Inhabitants 'lived' in caves underground and carved into the side of mountains, and maturity for a Dragon meant getting the hell out of Dodge as soon as possible and finding a nicer place to live, only returning home to lay eggs. Combined with Dragon culture's lack of emphasis on family and preference for solitude, it all meant that the Dragon Lands was populated solely by wayward teenagers fighting each other and entertaining themselves until they could survive on their own. So it was for countless centuries, to the point where solitude and greed was almost the only cultural heritage Dragons held- save the stories they stopped killing each other to tell, which were all about solitude and greed.

That was, until Ember took over.

As one might be able to guess, a country where the strongest rule was hardly feminist, but a combination of exposure to Pony culture and being directly related to a powerful father who could raise her in some modicum of normality concocted the perfect messiah for Dragonkind, and it was hard to find anyone who her rise to power and subsequent herculean efforts to set up a system of law beyond 'Don't bite off what you can't chew' didn't benefit.

Of course, Ember's other benefit was that she was fucking terrifying.

While she was an only fairly impressive size of eight feet tall when she initially took the Bloodstone Scepter, time had been kind to her as it had to her father, and within 15 years she had risen to sizes most species only dreamed of.

Which meant all eyes were on her when the great blue behemoth touched down, adding another crater to the planet's surface that kicked up waves of dust all around her. Her awed subjects watched from mountain caves at the safest distances they could, as well as gathered around her in the air like a swarm of lotuses that always stayed an intimidated distance away. When Ember lifted her house sized head and gazed with ruby red eyes at the group of largely teenagers that made up the Lands' population, every observer couldn't help but feel a streak of nationalistic pride hardly present before her rule- This was what a Dragon could be, and this was the dragon fit to rule them.

"Dragons of Equestria, Hear me!"

She spread her titanic arms, and the cloud of dragons parted like the Red Sea to make room for them.

"Tonight, we feast!"

Unlike her predecessor, she didn't need to tell the gathered hundreds to cheer. The resounding roar could be heard clean from Manehattan across the sea.

As the crowds took to the air to follow the Dragon Lord's lumbering steps, a pair on the ground struggled to keep up, inconspicuously and deliberately choosing to avoid flying.

The shorter one was a bright pink with a butter yellow belly- unlike gryphons or Diamond Dogs, Dragons had never evolved very many Earthen colors to hide from predators, because they simply didn't have any. Instead, they wore their colors brightly and proudly, even males with 'girlier' colors, like this one happened to be. This set them apart drastically from Ponies, who evolved brighter colors because they were highly toxic.

"I just don't know, Acre- we're going to have a lot of eyes on us. Is this really the time we want to move?"

The taller was in charge, and radiated that fact like a bad smell- everything about them from how they held themselves to how they set their steely facial features dead ahead as they briskly walked told of a confidence their partner simply didn't have. They also happened to be Albino, although that didn't stand out very much in contrast to the aforementioned colors of her peers. The biggest concern it provided for her in a Volcanic biome was her sight problems- problems which would seal her away from any chances of competing in the inevitable Gauntlet of Fire with the others. The resulting mental complex from this stunting was dubbed the ‘Spike Complex’, and resulted in an assload of pent up rage largely unseen in other species. That said, most species didn’t base their self worth off a child labor competition.

"All those people 'watching us', Iggy, are exactly why we want to make our move now- Ember hunts her own food. This is one of the only times she'll allow others to provide her an offering in the form of a meal. And that's how we'll get her." Acre punched a fist into palm.

"Yeah!" Iggy brightened considerably, watching his cohort with admiration. "That's how we'll get her!" He repeated her motion.

As the two approached a cliffside, still following the migration of dragons to Ember's throne, Acre stopped, setting her hand on the sheer wall and mentally measuring where she'd need to step to scale it. She turned to Iggy, narrowing her eyes. "Now, so I know you’ve been listening, tell me why we're here."

Iggy blinked. "Food."

"Eh. You're half right." Acre shrugged. "I don't mind- The worst part of secret plans is that I usually don't have anyone to tell them to." And she slung her arm back, punching full force into the wall and leaving a fist-shaped indent, then moved a short distance away from it to repeat the process. "We don’t have long before Ember's term as Dragon Lord is up, the Gauntlet of Fire happens again, and whichever bozo can climb a volcano fastest gets to be supreme leader of all Dragons. Now, I don't know about you, but I've been enjoying my life so far. Not starving, not being eaten by another Dragon, the basics."

"Of course." As Acre began climbing, Iggy got behind her and gently let her use his hands as a footstool up.

"But when the next Gauntlet comes... heh, pretty much all of her improvements get flipped, and we're at square one. Unless, of course, someone steals it. Then, they're the strongest- their term begins, and whatever they say, goes. And of course, nobody's been able to take the scepter from Ember, because... I mean, have you seen her?"

"But then... who gets to be the next Dragon Lord?"

Acre scoffed. "Me?"

"Oh. Makes sense. And that's why we're stealing it, because we're better than everyone else?"

"Well, I mean- I wasn't going to say it- but compared to everyone else? I'd rather a toddler lead us than any of these pubescent idiots." Acre tossed her arm over the edge of the cliff and pulled herself up, turning back to Iggy to help him by his hand. "As soon as my hands get on the Scepter, I'm worthy- nobody can touch me."

"Which is why we're not bothering with trying to fight her." Iggy mused.

"Nope." She grinned. "Because she doesn't carry the scepter anymore- at least, not where anyone can grab it. Think, and you'll reach the same conclusion as everyone else- where's the safest place she can hide it where it won't ever leave her, someplace nobody would ever dare to actually try and retrieve it from?"

She patiently waited as the gears turned in Iggy's head. Then he smiled, and she nodded him on eagerly.

"Her vagina!"

"Her sto-" Acre paused, narrowing her eyes at him. "Her stomach. Come on, get real."

"Is that more real?" Iggy helplessly defended.

Acre sighed, and now that they were a safe distance from the Dragon Lord's eyes, she took his hand and opened her wings, joining the back of the crowd. "So you've got it now."

"Maybe." Iggy surmised. "But why are we doing this again?"

Acre was too excited to be annoyed, scanning the rocky terrain until she spotted a pony drawn carriage hidden between the rocks, unmanned. "I'll tell you once I'm in power."

Ember's throne was, much like all the rest of the Dragon Lands' architecture, a rock.

However, it was a very well carved rock.

It sat in the center of yet another crater, filled to the brim with gathered and collected gems. Around this moat Dragons ate like they had never eaten before, digging in entire handfuls and crunching like pigs at a Trough. and at the foot of Ember's throne, offerings were given- few were so large she couldn't pick them up by one hand, various carcasses and gems, and in one case an entire chunk of cave that had been torn out alongside the wealthy ore vein it contained. Fleets of Dragons struggled to pass to her the food she ate, and here one of her few tyrannical streaks was revealed. Like every Lord before her Ember devoured without end, seizing what was offered with little more than a mumbled thanks around a full mouth as she gorged.

And at the back of the crowd, pushing through annoyed Dragons, a covered Carriage was pushed by a bright pink Dragon, huffing as he tried to avoid slicing the tarp open on the various spikes and edges that covered most Dragons. Iggy obediently followed the command he was given, repeating it like a mantra so he didn't forget- Give it to Ember. Tell nobody what it is. Give it to Ember. Tell nobody what it is. Give it to Ember. Tell nobody what it is.

He yelped as the front wheels pitched forward, sliding into the moat and struggling to keep traction on the massive pile of gems. Still, he kept pushing, and it wasn't long until his efforts were noticed by Ember's eye. The Dragon lord set aside the Emerald she had been lifting to her jaws and watched Iggy work with interest for a minute before offering him mercy and lifting the Carriage, along with him awkwardly dangling from the back, high into the air until he was hanging at her eye level.

"And what's this?" Her voice rumbled curiously, taking note of the odd bulges from whatever was stuffed inside.

Iggy dropped the carriage, freefalling before catching himself in flight and fluttering ditzily to the top of his package to land. "Your offering, Dragon Lord!" He called. Give it to Ember. Tell nobody what it is.

Ember smiled with amusement, gently setting down the Carriage. Iggy seemed oblivious to how many eyes were on him as he worked to unhook the tarp before finally growing frustrated and sticking a talon into the side, slowly crossing its entire outer perimeter and slicing the top off. When he was finished, Ember lifted it off, and chucked it carelessly behind her as her eyes widened at the parcel contained inside.

A near perfectly preserved Manticore, slumped onto its belly with closed eyes and an apple politely stuffed into its mouth. Whatever had killed it had done it near seamlessly, leaving no ugly gashes on the sides. It bore no battle scars or burns, as a less experienced dragon would have left.

"Only the best, as an offering should be!" Iggy happily recited, already halfway to forgetting the plan and using that obliviousness to fuel his acting.

Ember licked her lips, close to drooling as she delicately slid her thick fingers under it and lifted it to her nose, smelling the death on it with delight. "This... This is what I'm talking about. This is beautiful." The rest of the gathered nodded obediently as she gestured to the corpse, lifting it like a caught fish in one hand and looking around for approval. "Food is a god, and a meal like this, this… What is your name?" She curiously turned to the subject still waiting at the foot of her throne.

"Iggy, my Lord!"

"Iggy. You have made here a show not only of strength, but precision. This meal? This is the shit."

And he was more than happy to take credit for it.

Acre was an evil genius, and she knew it.

It isn't often a teenager gets to plan a coup, but when they do, you can expect to know exactly how they'll feel about themselves going about it. As she sat criss cross and perfectly still in the hollowed corpse of the Manticore, every neuron in her mind blared 'I AM SMART'. It took every ounce of dragon strength within her to not cackle as she was lifted into the air and Ember began congratulating on what an expert kill he had managed.

Of course Iggy had nothing to do with it- but Acre's time to shine would come when she had the Bloodstone Sceptre. It had taken several dead Manticores to kill one on the first try by slicing its belly open, and even longer to find stitches to sew it back together with, but the plan was going off without a hitch. It was about to be smooth sailing- all she had to do was stay quiet and dodge a few teeth.

Come to think of it, that's kind of like the Gauntlet.

Acre's frills were flattened briefly by the force at which the Manticore was lifted, and she sent out a silent prayer that the speed wouldn't rip its head off its deboned neck. By the time Ember was done talking about how brilliant Iggy was and whatever else she might have said while Acre was patting herself on the back, the Manticore began tipping to one side and Acre knew it was time. She lowered herself to the ground, unperturbed by the flesh she laid on- it was about to get a lot worse in the flesh department. She crossed her arms over her chest and took a breath, murmuring rap lyrics to hype herself up as her container began to slide, breaking into freefall, tipping over, and rolling. It compressed, squeezed on all sides by massive fangs that began to tear it open.

Time to move.

Ember savored the flavor, lifting a hand to her chin and flexing her fingers in delight as she chewed slowly and deliberately to wring it out. Interestingly, it was hollower than she expected. That didn't do much to slow her as she messily ate, crunching the meal to bits between open mouth chews that left the entire scorpion tail dangling over her lips. Dragons had a way of enjoying their food, no matter how it may have disgusted another species. On a related note, they did get along well with Yaks.

Acre rolled out through a torn open hole, landing with a plap on the quivering wet muscle, getting her bearings as she was rocked forward and back by waves of rank air and gas blowing past her. Finally she flopped off, avoiding the grasp of the tongue as it pushed one of the Manticore's legs to be mercilessly shredded between fangs. Her safety was never of immediate concern- dragons were built to use lava as a hot bath, after all. But crunches in soft food rarely go unnoticed. If Ember bit down and tasted scale, she would instantly know something was up. So Acre laid low and fought to remain aware of her surroundings despite only getting slivers of light through Ember's lips, being repeatedly sandwiched between the roof and tongue, and the vile smell that clung to her as she waded through saliva. She crawled in the space under her tongue as it flicked up to the roof, pressing with disgust against the thick muscle as it squirmed around. Hide behind the teeth, and Ember would notice and flick her out. The best bet was to stay with the rest of the Manticore and only flee the tongue's grasp when necessary. So she took it, wincing and staying silent as she was tossed every which way, clutching onto what was once the kill's paw for bearings. She barely noticed the heat, but the smell was another matter entirely- the rotting meat was even more overpowering than inside the Manticore, combined with thick sulfur that wouldn't have bothered her if it wasn't so tightly condensed. Breathing was hard and painful, and she took them slowly and laboriously as she waited out the process.

Ember drew in a breath and exhaled slowly, placing a claw to her throat and swallowing slowly with a resounding glk.

Her eyes opened, and she smiled down at her subject, holding a finger up as her throat rumbled, then belching a jet of foul scented fire into the air.

"Fuck yeah." She breathed.

Iggy nodded, more than a little proud of himself. "Fuck yeah."

The Manticore was a pile of shredded meat by the time it finally settled, rocked slowly by the natural movements of Ember's stomach. For a moment it sat undisturbed, digesting peacefully.

Then, a pink fist punched out triumphantly.

A suppressed evil laugh erupted as Acre dug herself out, clawing and biting to escape her prison before standing on the desecrated corpse a dragon triumphant. She clenched her fists, flashing her fangs to nobody as she cackled.

"I've won!" She shrieked, confident in the noise dampening ability of the walls. "The scepter is mine! As soon as I... lay my hands on it..."

Her arms fell to her side as she dumbfoundedly took in her surroundings with a nervous gulp. Ember's stomach was more than a little full, leaving her a pile of shavings, meat, and mush to stand in, several inches deep from the severity of her gorging, and nowhere was the telltale red glow that should have given its position away immediately.

Acre gagged and retched, reaching for her nose and holding it shut as she crouched down and began to dig best she could, shuddering as her hands made contact with the concoction she found herself waist deep in.

Frustrating pawing turned to frantic digging, overturning various bits of detritus as the pounding of the heartbeat all around Acre began to finally get to her. Her frustration grew as her searches through half-digested piles turned up nothing after nothing, growling in anger.

She couldn't have miscalculated. Everything had gone perfectly- she had won, and it couldn't possibly be all for nothing.

Acre sat up, recalibrating and thinking. Her surroundings shook and rumbled, and somewhere outside a deep belch stifled her air for a fleeting second as she struggled to stay afloat. Her quarters were tight and disgusting, and it was occurring to her now she didn't have an escape plan- not one that didn't use the power of being in charge to escape all possible repercussions.

"Okay, think." She murmured, holding a hand over her nose. "Obviously, I'm not wrong. I'm never wrong. Ergo, following the natural progression of food..." She glanced down at her feet, and how the pile slowly shrank. "I've just got to dig deeper."

Before she was even finished speaking, the stomach clenched, forcing her into a much tighter position as she stuck out all of her limbs to suspend herself above the gurgling pile below her. The low sloshing of liquid moving very quickly filled the room, and above her a new mixture of food and material dumped on her and buried her quickly.

Trapped in the sweltering pile of mush, Acre groaned.

Outside, Iggy reflected on the second piece of advice he had received prior to the plan's beginning.

Tell nobody.

That was probably the easiest step.

Iggy was treated like a hero by his cohorts- every story of the Manticore's defeat brought with it new details and exaggerations, and he was more than happy to accept the gems and attention they brought with them. As the night continued and he was lifted into a crowd surf, toted by Ember's booming laugh as what was surely the pinnacle of Dragon culture, he wondered if it was selfish to take this much credit and everything that came with it.

Of course not, he figured. He'd have his fifteen minutes of fame, and then Acre would get all the credit she deserved and more. For now, the best thing he could do as a friend was to keep his mouth shut.

Iggy smiled good naturedly over the heads of the Dragons cheering him on. The plan had worked, and it was all smooth sailing from then on.

All through the night, a blockage moved steadily but surely through Ember's bowels, leaving a trail of pain like a virus. Chin deep and wedged at an uncomfortable angle in the tight tunnel, Acre slid her way through the intestines at a snail's pace, eyes squinted shut and screaming at the top of her lungs- "WHERE IS THE FUCKING SCEPTER?" before being drowned out by the peristalsis of the food moving her towards the exit. Every few minutes the process repeated as she struggled to breathe in between drowning in waste.

Ember woke that night to a loud grumble from inside her, and instinctively reached to her head, an instinct born from many late night assassins. Recognizing her stomach's protests from the afternoon's overeatings, she sighed, but paranoia convinced her to reach deep into her frills anyway- at this size, a forest of deep blue spikes hard as stone. Digging around for a second, she finally dislodged from it a long gnarled sceptre that had been hidden deep inside.

She smiled at the glowing red stone encased inside, emitting a dim light that barely illuminated the edge of her muzzle, and delicately set it back in its place. An old pony friend of hers had taught her that trick- it had never failed her yet.

Rubbing her stomach to try and soothe it, she settled back into sleep, closing her eyes and drifting off.