“That’s a good girl, swallow your pony,” goaded Bug, as she gave another commanding push to the wriggling plot protruding from Triksa’s lips. The grey glutton’s heavy hoofs sinking into the flailing flanks, as with a sequence of stern shoves she attempted to force yet another mewling mare down the unwilling lamia’s gagging gullet. The throbbing tension of Triksa’s tight throat refusing to slacken, as the trembling tract of tubing stubbornly refused to properly dilate to receive the palate-pleasing prey item Bug was insisting she ingest.

Bug indulging the squirming sapphire serpents’ base instincts, as though the skittish snake wanted to deny it, evolution had built her to be a natural predator of ponies. Triksa’s timid tendencies preventing the lamia from committing to what should have been an easy consumption, as the harassed equine eater responded to her overloaded oesophagus with a floundering retch. The steady stream of straining palpitations the naga’s desperate attempt to puke up her partially devoured pony prey, but try as she might the pulsating pipework was unable to endure the steady shunts from Bug’s firm frogs.

The persistent earth pony easily repressing any attempt at regurgitation from the struggling serpent, leaving the lamia choking on Coco’s chubby cutiemarks like a jubbly jawbreaker. The frightened fashionista’s bubbly buttocks bobbing pleasantly against the lamia’s lips, as every bucking bumble of the buttery bottom jostled ineffectually against the yawning jaws framing her cowering caboose. Bug savouring the worried writhing of the doughy derrière softly squishing against her hooves, as she continued to ease the panicking pony further into the glugging grasp of the gaping gullet before her.

Bug doggedly refusing to give her choking captive even a moment of reprieve, as she confidently maintained the punishing pressure that was sending the crying Coco on a terminal transition down the taut tunnel to Triksa’s tummy. The slate snarfer set on capping off this bullying banquet by safely stowing Triksa’s distressed designer dessert with the rest of the sluts stewing in the snake’s long stomach, as just another ingredient for the mare meatball that would soon be baking in her bloated belly. The brewing broth within the caustic cavity already starting to burn Triksa’s previous partaking’s of pleading pony protein, causing the marinating mares to let out all manner of muffled moans as they began to dissolve within the sweltering digestive depths.

Bug smirking as she heard the gurgling groans of the gargantuan gut, as she knew it would not be long before Coco joined the several sizable servings of curvaceous chevaline currently snuggly stacked within the sour space of the stomach like shuddering sardines. Triksa not getting an opinion in the matter, as regardless of her reservations the shying away serpent inevitably had to breathe. The earth pony putting the predator in a perilous situation, as the shapely swell of the seamstress created a bothersome bulge more than sufficient to block the coerced constrictor's airway. This action creating an untenable ultimatum where Triksa simply had to choose whether to suffocate or swallow.

The choice, like the preceding ponies was obvious, as though she wanted to deny it, Triksa’s mouth could not help but water from the delectable flavour of the plump pony currently clogging her overloaded oral orifice. The saliva-inducing tang on her tastebuds making it hard for Triksa to refuse the free food Bug was peddling, even if the empathetic equine eater didn’t want to send the crying couturist down on a drool drenched dive. The lamia trying to skirt away from sending Coco on a one-way trip through her gastrointestinal system, but as with the last few snacks now sloshing in her misshapen midsection, Triksa simply couldn’t seem to find the energy to eject the equine she was being impelled to ingest.

The naga’s conscious restricted reflexes soon winning out over common courtesies, as the dire conundrum began to drag until there was nothing left for Triksa to do other than cave to her insatiable instincts, that only craved for the consumption of fidgeting female flesh. Bug just savouring the moment when she felt the gasping gullet give an abrupt tug, as with a capitulating chug Triksa gave up on her attempts to disgorge the delightful dessert the mardy mare had kindly presented her. Not like this outcome was unexpected, as maintaining civilised sensibilities soon paled in the face of a mounting biological need for oxygen.

The smile remaining on Bug’s face, as she leaned forward, as the moody mare ignored the stifled complaints of the mostly packed away pony, and casually continued to thread Coco past Triksa’s tonsils. The streamlined shape of the soon to be engulfed earth pony making it easy for Coco to trickle into the threshold of the throat like a hoof slipping into a soggy sock. The humid hold of the skin-tight sheathe forming a frictionless flume around the feast of fumbling feminine flesh, as the muscular walls of the undulating gullet perfectly conformed to Coco’s cringing contours. Bug giving the mare a few assertive nudges, as she tilted Triksa’s muzzle skyward so that gravity could assist the lamia’s lunch on her trip towards the putrid pressure-cooker waiting beyond the blinking stomach sphincter.

With nothing to grip, Coco found herself powerless against the currents of the peristaltic plunge, and from this point onwards the pony’s coasting glide down the gullet played out no differently than any other succulent snack to opulently ooze down ophidian’s oesophagus. The drool drenched stylist’s predator trying her best to protect the act, but with her forelegs fettered to her back, there was nothing Triksa could do other than capitulate to chugging down Coco. Bug just continuing to ram the worming rump ever deeper, not like that was hard though, as the flagging serpent was putting up a piss poor fight against the moody mare’s manipulative machinations.

Bug finding the reptile’s reluctance rather sad, as it was clear to the slate snarfer that Triksa had more than enough capacity for multiple meek meals within the accommodating expanse of her cylindrical frame. The sight just odd, as for whatever reason Triksa simply refused to assume the predatory mantle evolution intended for her, though this disgusting disinclination to devouring her dinner dates would not save Coco from her looming appointment with the acidic abyss of the sour sleeve which would serve as the equine’s churning coffin.

A final audible gulp capping off the consumption, as Bug smoothly backed off lest she be snagged in the slipstream of Triksa’s most recent snack, and find herself joining Coco on her surfing surge towards the stomach. The earth pony watching the jittering mass of mare meat trundle down Triksa’s throat as a shivering simulacrum, as the lethargic lump of pretty protein, created a noticeable distortion beneath the lamia’s shiny scales. A wobbling wave moving down the Lamia’s normally lithe neck, as her glossy hide stretched to allow the close-fitting chute to shepherd the scared swelling along the lamia’s length until Coco was unceremoniously dumped with the rest of the frantic food fermenting within Triksa’s bloated belly.

The stomach swaying slightly as Coco was deposited at her digestive destination, and in an instant, she lost any sense of individual identity, as the pony shaped protrusion was lost in the greater whole of the spherical belly bump of Triksa’s stuffed stomach. The lamia’s large and very much lively lunch mostly disguised by the veil of muscle and bone surrounding its quivering core, but a keen eye could easily spot the occasional spasm of convulsion from the disgruntled nutrients tucked away within the twitching tummy.

Bug’s gendering gaze tracing along the gut’s swollen prominence, until she came to the hooves of the green unicorn currently trying to soothe looming indigestion that Triksa’s distraught dinner was sure to cause. The stallion’s slow rubbing working the bulbous bulge like dissolving dough, as bit by bit he felt the simmering shapes gradually begin to soften against the cupping caress of his tender frogs. The vocal objections of the organ’s occupants regarding their current treatment going ignored, as with each calm caress the stallion felt the weak thrashing wane just a little more, as they slowly succumb to the sizzling stomach surrounding them. Not like he ruminated long on the opinions of food, as it would not be long now until the liquidating load of ex-equine was just a mulched mush of pulped pony puree, once the gut got into gear and began properly processing the moaning mares. The stallion diligently helping digestion along, with a mashing massage, before he was suddenly taken aback by an unexpected question from Bug that caused his ears to flicker in alarm.

“So, Pitch, you want to go next?” Offered Bug, causing Pitch to freeze mid-knead, as he knew from experience that even if he said no to her, the earth pony could be rather forceful in getting what she wanted. This brash bluntness a solid staple of the predatory pony’s personality, so with a gulp Pitch politely declined, even if just from the look Bug was giving him, it was incredibly likely he was about to go for a surprise stomach swim…


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Triksa finds herself on the receiving end of a multi-mare meal courtesy of Bug. Unfortunately, the Lamia doesn't seem very enthused about the large lunch Bug is currently thrusting down her throat...

A fun lemon to go with a piece of gift art kindly done for me by  Triksa . The image features their Lamia getting bullied by Bug, with a little help from Pitch. I hope they enjoy the fun fluff I wrote to go with their splendid image :)

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