The Wonderbolts were in town today doing a show. Their wings cut through the air, leaving contrails in their wake as they sliced open the sky, performing for the adulation of the crowd. This was what it meant to be a Wonderbolt in peace time, simply flying around doing tricks. Not that Spitfire would ever complain about that, she knew what fighting was like, and she much prefered the sound of crowds cheering her name in praise, to enemy forces roaring as they charged across the sky to strike you down.
After everything was done today, she’d made her way to a nice little dive she’d heard about on the edge of town. Sure, it was against protocol, for the captain to abandon the squad and go off on her own, but she would be mooned if she had to those barrack rations another night. So she’d flown here, and come inside. The place, despite its rep, was well kept, with clean looking stools, a clear window, and no smoke hanging in the air, though there was the smell of burning meat.
The only thing that was dirty was the bartender, a griffon woman, probably slightly older than Spitfire herself, at at least twice as large, though most of that appeared to be muscle. The pegasus took a seat, and looked at a menu taped to the countertop, finding most of the dishes to be for more carnivorous palates than hers, including steaks, hamburgers, and something called a meat pie. Luckily, there was at least one item on the list she could eat, a hayburger, which she ordered, along with a glass of whatever rot gut the place served.
Of course, if Spitfire had been less tired from her show, and the thoughts of the show they’d be putting on tonight, she might have watched the bartender a little closer. The griffon woman, used to her usual clientele too much, hadn’t bothered asking if the pegasus wanted her special additive, and so reached into a small cage and grabbed one. The thing in her claw, a tiny mouse like thing, bald save for a single tuft of hair on its head, and with two arms and legs, struggled in her grip. They always did, but she barely noticed, as she brought out a bun, and tossed the small creature onto it.
The human, for that was what it was, tried to rise from the bun, startled at where he was, wondering just what was going on, only to soon be covered by hay, thick stalks of the stuff being dumped on him by the monster that had plucked him from his home. Weighed down and trapped beneath the pile of hay, he felt more weight being added, the smells telling him that a slice of cheese, then some lettuce, and finally a few slices of tomatoes, were placed atop him, before the air was squeezed out of his lungs by pressure as the griffoness pressed the burger down, then passed it to the pony.
Spitfire turned towards the food and drink, licking her lips as her stomach grumbled in anticipation of being filled. Picking up the hayburger in her hooves she gave it a quick sniff, before shrugging and opening wide. Inside the burger, the tiny human was forced to watch as the bar was replaced in his view first by a pair of huge nostrils, and then by a yawning maw. Threads of spit connected the top and bottom rows of flat topped teeth, while a glittering tongue undulated before him, pressing down to reveal an abyss behind the maw, ready to take him into it.
Tags: Non-human, sizeplay, pre-vore, maw shot, TV
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Story by Sage of Stars |
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Artwork by Octo |
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