You had just sat down on the toilet, the stench of citrus caressing your muzzle like a lemony mist as you made yourself comfortable upon the cold seat to go about your business when you heard the door to the mare’s toilet open. The fastenings in need of grease as it creaked eerily as the rollers snagged, that impeded the door as it shunted open on its hinges creating a loud noise that reverberated off the walls with apprehensive acoustics.

You pause, lest a pulse of the pelvic floor rattle out some latent gas in your coiling colon, the thought of letting rip within earshot of strangers directly opposed to your sensibilities as you sat in silence hoping that they were here for a short session. But instead of the sound of a cubicle closing with a click or the drizzle of golden rain you caught the cantering clatter of hooves on the polished floor and a mare seeming murmuring to herself as she made her way to the sink. The sound was enough to make you pause and rise to your hooves to peer through the crack in the door to observe the odd sight from the relative safety of the plastic partition.

“Will you just stop squirming, you're being very inconsiderate,” chastised a gravelly mare's voice, the words slightly distorted as if the equine had a lollipop in her mouth, adding mystery before a slate shape skirted into your limit frame of vision. The form that of an immensely bloated grey earth pony mare whose body bumbled into view; her black mane streaked with a brilliant yellow as she turned her buttocks to the large mirror as if going to inspect her jiggling posterior. A vague part of you knowing the mare as Bug-zapper, a bit of a recluse who lived on the outside of town with her collection of animals, though she seemed to have put on weight since you last saw her screeching at seagulls. The mare more than a little padded, as her body seemed to take a moment to settle after each step as the agitated adipose rippled like disturbed water. The lightbulb cutiemarks on her flanks so large they might be befitting of a lighthouse, as her body was no doubt accentuated by excessive calorific intake ballooning her into a buxom body that would draw the curious eyes of stallions and perhaps even a few mares. Her belly swaying slightly in animated fidgets as if she was suffering some sort of convulsion brought on by intense intestinal distress, though she seemed in no rush to relieve the pressure that was causing her gut to groan so loud that you would have sworn her plump stomach was pressed flush to your now twitching ears.

What happened next almost caused a startled gasp to reveal your location, as the mare thinking herself alone lifted her frizzy tail and to your shock, you saw an aghast amber grey mare’s face mewling in the frame of a no doubt aching anus. It was only now that you could see what was slurring the charcoal maned mare’s speech, as she was nibbling on a severed horn that’s hue seemed to perfectly match the colour of the current colon stuffer on full display. The nub was broken in a jagged shatter as it had no doubt come away violently, as the broken bone bobbed in Bug’s maw as she suckled on it to savour the lingering taste of her rearward passenger.

The disembodied face sitting betwixt twin peaks little more than a grimacing muzzle and a pair of eyes sealed in a cringe, as the mare was clearly the source of her devourer's discomfort. The ponut pulsing as it seemed to kiss the small part of its yet to be claimed backdoor dinner, a hint of anger in its flared fanning as the back passage was clearly intent in making the poor pony a rectal resident.

“Just relax,” continued Bug, as she slowly began to rub her belly as if it might ease her indigestion brought on by her inconsiderate intestinal intruder. The words doing nothing as the mare within continued to buck blindly reminiscent of a fish on the line as instinct and adrenalin no doubt urged the molested mare to squirm in her slimy surroundings. The reaction causing her predator to simply roll her amber eyes at the insolence of her bawling buttplug, and with a smirk, she changed her strategy as she concluded suffocating spasms were preferable to this gut gurning.

“Last warning, if you don’t stop your caterwauling, I will slip you past the sigmoidal then we are going to see if you make an easier bowel movement then a buttplug,” said Bug sinisterly as the words fell upon death ears. Bug just giving a shrug, that you saw roll down her spine as if her back fat was rustling in the wind before she just tensed her core and with a stifled yelp as in an instant the unidentified mare disappeared past the precipice and the backdoor eased shut like a knot pulling taut. Bug moaning, the sound as if a cat was purring as you saw the lump within her shift as her meal began to shift deeper into her lower piping, no doubt on a long velvety stroll to the stomach. your eyes fixed on it as you watched it quiver and cry. The grey fur rolling with dull lumps before you shifted your gaze back to Bug’s face, and you felt your heart skip a beat as her cold eyes were looking straight at you with the flare of want.

An involuntary gulp dancing down your throat, as you realized that you were going to be the next person to slip into the curvaceous mare’s accommodating body……

.............................

You were just trying to relive yourself when a grey mare barges into the toilets and begins to taunt her breakfast. Just one of the possibilities one might encounter when using a public restroom when Bug is on the prowl, least you will have a lively friend when you stew.

Fun little commission I got from the talented Pennii ( https://twitter.com/SomeFrigginNerd ). Who was kind enough to listen to my lewd whispers and modify one of my concepts into this amazing comm. Every time I get something from them they seem to be improving, and this one was a fun display of angles that I think they nailed perfectly. Hope you guys enjoy it as much as I do :)

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