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I still remember the day she walked into my office, looking for answers. Not too old, not too young, she had a mother's breasts, and the wide barrel and hips to match. I'd even go so far as to call her beautiful, but she wasn't my type. The black-haired, black-furred centaur moved with a loose strength that betrayed her anger. At first, I wondered what I'd done, but she wasn't angry at me.

She had a job for me.

You see, I was a private investigator, and she knew that I took up cases when the police looked the other way. Centaurs struck a tricky balance in Az'tch'ton, neither the biggest of creatures, nor with any magical talent, centaurs, elves, pegasi, and werewolves had to rely on each other to get justice through the Law. Many elves knew magic, at least, but they were the frailest creatures of all. Sure, there were plenty of police officers and detectives employed by the government, but I knew first hand how far a uniformed dragon or gryphon would go to help a centaur.

So I started my own detective agency, keeping detailed notes and records of the investigations I do. The Law didn't like me operating outside their system, but as long as I did nothing illegal, they had to act on my evidence. I'd helped a lot of poor centaurs already, and I aimed to help a lot more.

Across the table from the woman, whose name was Magra, sat me and my sister, Willa. I'd like to say we were partners, but she'd never gotten the detective bug like I had. While I worked on my brain, she concentrated on magic. I have to admit, she tended to pay the bills, and her skills often made or broke an investigation, so I was always glad to have her along.

And she was always along. I was the one sitting right next to Willa -right next to her. You see, my sister and I shared everything...even our bodies. From the neck down, we resembled a hart: brown fur, little flag-like tail, cloven hooves. But there were other differences. We were as big as a draft horse, and could speak, and use magic. And unlike a doe, we had two necks, fused as one, side by side. I, Ulalia, on the right, Willa on the left.

Just as there were many chimaeras in Az'tch'ton, bizarre combinations of eagles and lions and zebras and horses, there were multi-headed beasts. I'm sure you've heard of hydras? The lizards were known for regrowing their heads. We couldn't do that, as far as I knew, and we only had two heads rather than the somewhat more typical three. I didn't mind - my sister and I were close - but I don't know if we could handle a third strong-willed personality following us around.

We didn't talk long. Magra told her story and we took the case immediately. Willa seemed more interested than usual, perhaps because this wasn't a simple "follow him and see if he's cheating" sort of deal. No, we were investigating a murder. And we were headed straight for the scene of the crime.

We trotted into the expansive Club D'vour looking for answers. Most people didn't know about the dank, twisted underbelly of Az'tch'ton, one of the four colossal city-states of the feylands. But as sure as the brightly-painted schools, hospitals, and banks held society together near the top of the underground paradise, down below suspicious thugs and downright criminals churned and digested the honorable into a messy slop.

And if the story I've been told is true, that digesting might be literal!

According to Magra, her son Loruncai was set to marry a gorgeous young filly named Polyna, with a thick, muscular rump, golden hair, and slender, almost elfin body (except for her full-figured chest, Magra added). Loruncai had gone missing just before the wedding - at the bachelor party, no less! Magra had learned the bad news from Searlao, Loruncai's childhood friend and best man. Apparently, they had gone down to Club D'vour on the night of the 24th of Kooblagesh. Only four members of the party had had the guts to use the club's 'services', and the fiance, Loruncai, was one of them.

When Searlao couldn't find his friend, the staff at Club D'vour explained (rather casually) that Loruncai had invoked a particular clause in his contract, and had been swallowed whole and digested by one of the attractions, named Kiao.

Digested.

I shook my head, still having trouble believing the existence of such a place. Club D'vour specialized in swallowing their clients whole. Elves, centaurs, and werewolves would come to the club, enter a room with a massive predator, and allow themselves to be pulled down the massive throats into the creature's stomach.Why would anyone do that?

It was supposed to be perfectly safe: each client signed a contract informing them of their rights. I'd read one already, but it only gave me more questions. The contract was relatively simple: they promised not to harm or kill you in the process of devouring you (and subsequently spitting you up), unless you chose to waive those protections. I checked with the government, and everything is legal, amazingly. If a guest wants to waive their protections, they would just have to say, "Eat me!" and the monster would be glad to comply.

Searlao was told that Loruncai waived his protections, and as such, was not released. As according to law, Club D'vour released a magical recording of the ten seconds before and after Loruncai said, "Eat me!" to Searlao, who returned to Polyna to relay the bad news.

Her fiancee was dead.

When Magra found out she'd contacted me immediately, on recommendation from a friend I'd helped out of jail a month or two before. Loruncai, she said, would never have agreed to be eaten, especially not the night before the wedding! Magra was certain that Club D'vour had magically altered the tape, eating Loruncai against his will. I must admit, I was rather tempted to believe her.

Now I just needed the proof.

We walked through the main doors of the club, looking around. The walls displayed advertisements for each of their...attractions, with pictures. Wuleimon the red dragon was the largest, though he did not have the largest gut. That honor went to Borlgore, who seemed to resemble a huge toad. He had strong, thin, but muscular legs and arms, walking upright like the demihumans, and a tight, smooth gut that must stretch as large as he himself was, and he was twice my height. Arlasha was the largest gryphon I had ever seen, and she could probably have managed a full centaur on an empty stomach. Their smallest predator was Gronmor the manticore, only big enough to handle the smaller clientele.

Lastly, there was a dire naga, Kiao. That was the one I wanted, though I had to shiver at the mere thought of the beast. He was like a giant snake with arms, far bigger than your standard naga. One picture showed his long gut stretched wide over a bulge as big as the frog-like Borlgore, with the caption "Kiao takes a full-grown dragon for a ride." The dire naga would have had no trouble swallowing Loruncai whole.

At the front desk, an _elf_of all people waited to serve us. While elves oftened filled the role of menial servants, the thought of such a soft, pink creature coming to work every day with five, hungry monsters _trained_to swallow their prey seemed more than a little unwise. What kind of elf would knowingly take this job?

"Welcome to Club D'vour, Madames. May I interest you in one of our attractions?"

Willa seemed amused by the whole business. With a smirk, my sister said, "Talk to her, I'm just being dragged along."

"Don't mind her," I said, looking over the creature to determine that it was male. "My name is Ulalia, and I'm not actually looking for your...'services'. I was wondering if I could talk to the manager of this establishment?"

The elf blinked. "Why, may I say, are you calling?"

I decided to keep everything up front for now. As much as I suspected something shady about this place, they were innocent until proven guilty. "I'm investigating a recent client of yours. I understand you keep records of all interactions?"

The elf shifted his feet. "I'm not qualified to answer that. If you will excuse me, I will get the owner."

After the servant had disappeared into the back room, I turned to my sister, always just a few feet to my left, and said, "He seemed awfully nervous, don't you think?"

Willa met my eyes, but said, "Probably the first time he'd met a two-headed doe five times his weight asking tough questions about his bosses. I don't think the elf knows anything."

"Maybe..."

It wasn't long before he returned, and this time he ushered the two of us toward a large door with no adornments. This was access to the employee section of Club D'vour, without all the ritz and glitter. I followed the man closely, _sniffing_discreetly to get a sense of his mood. He definitely smelled anxious.

"Stop that..." Willa leaned over and whispered in my ear. "You're scaring him."

I rolled my eyes at her. He was scared before, because I was 'sniffing' for clues. Probably.

The dark hallway took a sharp turn to the left, and I noticed a row of windows that looked out into bright, well-lit rooms. I had to stop and turn our whole body to look through since Willa was in the way, but the bright rooms on the left were empty. Still, it was obvious, their purpose. There were large doors on the side from which the predators would emerge, as well as a client entrance. This was the pillow-clad space where predator met prey, and where Loruncai may well have met his untimely end.

The third room had an occupant, and judging by his rather lean belly, he was waiting for an appointment. It was Gronmor, the manticore. He stood as tall as me, a massive lion with bat-like wings and a huge, scorpion tail. He was curled up on the pillows, flicking his tail lazily.

"Come along," the elf urged, and I allowed us to follow, though I noticed Willa's gaze following the manticore.

"Have you ever done it, elf?" my sister asked.

"Excuse me, madame?"

"You work here. Have you ever used its services?"

The elf shook his head. "It's 'not for me'."

To the right, the elf tapped magical runes, and the huge stone door slid sideways, grinding softly against the floor. Beyond, a large room with a wall of glowing lights on the left and a large desk held a small but powerful figure: a goblin. Normally, I wouldn't consider a goblin powerful, but the way she sat, grinning at us, showed no fear, even though we outweighed her a dozen times over. Perhaps she possessed powerful magic, though she probably didn't realize that my sister did, too.

As the servant left, we walked inside. My right ear flicked as the stone door closed behind us, but we kept our flag tail up, ears as upright as possible.

"I'm Brelda, owner of this establishment. What can I do for you folks?"

Willa chuckled. "_You_are the boss of all those huge creatures?"

Brelda just smirked. "Our 'attractions' have their own, useful skills, but administration isn't one of them. The more imposing creatures never seem to have a knack for nuance or legalese. I keep them well compensated and reap the profits."

"Excuse my sister," I said, narrowing my eyes at the goblin. "I am Ulalia, and this is Willa. By 'well compensated', do you mean 'well fed'? Or do they get a share of the earnings?"

Brelda stood. "That's the brilliance. Only Wuleimon asks for a cut of the money. The rest work for creative compensation."

"Do these 'employee benefits' include a steady supply of victims?" I asked, not appreciating Brelda's tone at all.

"Ha!" she gasped. "No victims at all. Surely you realize this establishment works well within the law. Any sustenance my employees derive from their clients is one-hundred percent consensual, I assure you."

Willa seemed as uninterested as usual in the investigative side of my occupation, scanning the wall of bright lights as I replied, "You're telling me that enough clients_willingly_ choose to be digested that you have four_creatures on your staff willing to work for _free?"

Brelda paced along the wall of lights, waving her hand. "And we have all the evidence we need to prove it beyond a reasonable doubt. Though I think you underestimate just how much our 'attractions' enjoy their work. It's not all about food, you know."

"We're talking about people, Brelda. Like Loruncai? The centaur was at his Bachelor party. Now, why would someone about to marry the woman of his dreams decide to end the night in a naga's belly?"

"You'd have to ask him," she laughed. "Perhaps the bride-to-be was not all she was cracked up to be!"

"I fail to see the humor," I snapped. "You say you keep records, as required by law? Well, I want to see it. Loruncai, on the 24th of Kooblagesh."

Brelda growled. "You claiming you're related to the centaur? There is a right to privacy, you know."

If she pressed that issue, we would leave here empty-hooved. I had to get compliance, and fast. I said, "We are representing Magra, the victim's mother. I'll have you know, I'm a private investigator, and I am treating this case as a _murder_until proven otherwise."

Brelda sighed. "Ridiculous. We use state-of-the-art magic filters to prevent compulsion, and unaltered visual capture of the moment when a client agrees. If you're claiming this Loruncai made a mistake he would have regretted the next day, you'll need to put him on the stand, and that still wouldn't be a crime on the part of Club D'vour!"

"Show me the recording, if you're so sure."

The owner paused. "Fine. The 24th?" She scanned the row of lights, looking for the memory globe in question. "Ah, here it is," she said, reaching in to clutch the sphere in her tiny, green paw.

"Willa?"

"On it," my sister said, drawing on her telekinetic power to lift the globe from Brelda's hand, letting it float in front of us. I saw the interest on my sister's face - perhaps she was getting the investigation bug after all!

The memory played back in front of us, a full-color visual and audio of the fateful moment that ended a centaur's life. I watched for any inconsistencies - flickers, breaks in the audio, any signs of editing. Still, it was Willa who would be able to tell if the memory had been tampered with. Brelda seemed cool and calm, despite the sudden realization that the left head, at least, was a skilled mage.

The image appeared in front of us: Kiao, the huge, green naga, coiled up and gazing down at the centaur. I'd never seen Loruncai, but he matched Magra's description perfectly. She'd viewed this same memory globe when _she'd_confronted Brelda. That must have been uncomfortable for the mother, watching as her son turned around, looking over his shoulder as the naga grabbed him by the hind legs and started to feed the centaur into his gaping maw, rump-first.

I could hardly believe it, but Loruncai was starting to get turned on by Kiao's wet tongue, already flicking out and around the centaur's proudly-growing shaft. Stamping his front hoof, the ill-fated groom_groaned_ and pushed backwards into Kiao's mouth. The centaur's whole rump was now trapped inside, the snake-like lips wrapped wetly around his hindquarters, and there was no telling what, exactly, Kiao was doing with his tongue, now.

Whatever it was, Loruncai was moaning when he said the fateful words. "Eat me!"

The naga seemed to pause, but the centaur rushed on, saying, "I mean it!"

There was no other hesitance from either party. I watched as Loruncai, grunting and shuddering, sank further and further into Kiao's gullet, until his equine body was half gone. When the video cut out, the huge naga was lifting the centaur into the air, tilting his head back to help guide his meal to its final resting place.

My jaw was dropped. That _had_to be faked. But when I glanced at my sister, she shook her head. "It's legit," she confirmed, and I hadn't noticed anything odd, either.

Brelda grabbed the orb and said, "There! Now will you leave me alone? I've got work to do."

"Don't think you're off the hook yet," I said, staring down the small goblin. "The memory globe might be accurate, but there are other ways you could have set this up."

"Well, I encourage you to find some proof and come right back!" she growled, placing the memory globe carefully back. "For now: get out."

I knew when I wasn't wanted. We left Brelda's office, grateful that the elf must have returned to his post. Walking down the hallway, we got a chance to talk in private.

"Are there other ways she could have set that up?" I asked, dumbfounded.

Willa glanced over at me. "I didn't detect any compulsion spells. Other than that..."

"But there's no way he just _decided_to be eaten, all on his own. If the memory wasn't doctored..."

"Well, they could have used a look-a-like, but I didn't detect any transfigurations. They'd have to have another centaur that looked enough like Loruncai to fool his own mother."

I mulled that over, but it sure seemed unlikely. "What about gutter magic?" That meant alchemical effects, rather than summoned power. By now, potions, drugs, or bewitchings were viewed very negatively, as all the effects were better achieved by a skilled mage, but...

Willa shrugged. "It's possible - I'm not as experienced detecting those, and some are undetectable."

We took a step past the window we'd seen earlier, now on my side. I glanced in and noticed that Gronmor was no longer alone. "The client has arrived," I said casually.

Willa pushed us to turn and look, though I felt quite a bit like we were invading their privacy. While I'd never much cared for clothing, I was also covered in fur, but the client, a female elf, was already stripping, and I knew from experience that elves feared nudity. Well, _some_elves, at least. Still, we had a murder to solve, and if watching the show could help in any way, I had to try it.

The elf was minuscule compared to the giant, lion-headed scorpion bat. But then, that was the point. She looked like she would just barely fit in the monster's throat.

"Third time this week, Alys?" the manticore rumbled.

I hadn't expected to hear them. Gasping, I said, "Can_they_ hear us?"

Willa glanced down. "Apparently not," she said, when the two made no reaction.

The woman slid her panties down her legs, stepping out of them to emerge completely naked. "You know I can't stay away from you."

"This little hobby of yours is getting expensive. Won't your husband find out?"

She scoffed. "I make my own money. Besides, what I feel for you has nothing to do with him. He wouldn't understand."

Gronmor nodded slowly, keeping his mouth shut this time. I was curious to note that he seemed to legitimately care about his client. I had expected the 'attractions' to be in it for the tasty meal. "So I take it you haven't decided to take our relationship to the next, more permanent level, yet?"

That was more like it. The creature was clearly not working in her best interest. She rebuffed him, of course, like Loruncai should have - like any reasonable person would. "No, and I'm not ready to try your stinger yet, either."

I glanced over at Willa with a flick of my ears, and she said, "The poison of a manticore paralyzes its victim's muscles, leaving them helpless for...about ten minutes, depending on size."

"Head or feet first?" the manticore asked next.

"I was thinking about trying head-first for once..." she said, stepping fearlessly toward the creature that was ten times her weight.

"You sure? I won't be able to hear you, if you decide to change your mind. About either."

Perhaps she was more open to the poison than she'd lead on, because Alys paused and said, "Feet first, then."

Gronmor grinned, showing his sharp, interlocking teeth. Yet Alys seemed completely at ease, sliding down among the pillows to lie on her back, her feet lifted enticingly to the ravenous beast. In the wild, there was only one way such a situation could end, but here, the law protected the young and foolish. Gronmor was already salivating, licking his lips as he gazed down at the freely offered snack.

I couldn't look away, mortified as the elf held her feet to the manticore, shivering as he began to lick, pulling her feet just past those sharp teeth. The naked elf moaned, gripping the pillows in her little fists, her large breasts heaving. With his mouth half-full, their conversation was over, and he had only one task on his mind: eating Alys.

Gronmor inched forward, gulping_loudly as he pulled her feet deeper and deeper, until his canines were lined up with her knees. That was when Alys's feet finally reached the opening to the large creature's throat, but neither paused or even remarked as he swallowed her smooth feet, his tongue now _slurping up beneath her thighs.

Suddenly, I could understand at least part of the appeal, my cheeks hot as Alys moaned_again. That huge, leonine tongue was cupping her hindquarters, pulling the elf so that half her legs quivered inside his esophagus, and her naked rump lay just inside his wet, clenching maw. He lapped eagerly at the salty elf, running his tongue back and forth, and I didn't need her moans to realize that his drool must be absolutely coating her furless vulva. No, her husband _most assuredly wouldn't understand.

"Aaaah!" she groaned, her arms tensing as she rocked her hips against the beast's tongue. Like Loruncai, the process of being devoured appeared to gratify her sexually. While I could grudgingly accept the appeal of full-body oral, that still didn't explain why the centaur would take the next step. Surely, suffocating in a monster's belly was not an erotic_sensation. Yet, if Brelda was to be believed, a fair number of guests offered themselves _willingly. Something was definitely fishy.

I watched as the manticore's large tongue emerged from his jaws and slid up her back, even as Gronmor stepped forward,gulping. If he'd wanted to, he could have effortlessly closed his powerful jaws, sinking his teeth into her belly and cleaving the young elf maiden in two. Instead, he rested his wet nose against the base of Alys's sweat-covered breasts, making her shiver, struggling uselessly in the powerful grip of the monster's throat.

Then, with all the ceremony of a dragon hatchling begging for table scraps, Gronmor lifted his prey high into the air, tossing back his head so that she balanced precariously above him, only her wide thighs stopping her inevitable descent. I could no longer see his tongue, but judging by the shuddering moans from Alys, he was buried inside of her just as she was in him.

"Nnnngh!" she groaned. "I want to try it...!"

Willa and I froze. Were we about to witness the very event we didn't believe was possible? Gronmor's wide eyes showed he shared our surprise. But when the elf spoke next, she didn't say the fatal words. "The stinger!" she gasped.

With a leonine grin, Gronmor swung his flexible, scorpion's tail up and around the elf's back, pausing just long enough for Alys to nod again. Then, he drove the sharp, chitinous tip between her shoulder-blades. The spear was too large to avoid drawing blood, but Alys didn't seem to mind as the muscle paralytic began to flow into her body. Her moans quieted suddenly, only a muffled shell of their former self, and her frantic bucking slowed as well. Soon, she dangled limply from the lion's mouth, groaning weakly.

Now, with no further protest from the helpless meal, Gronmor tossed his head back again and gulped, stretching his throat wide to _squeeze_in her hips. Once the widest part of her was safely tucked away, she began to sink faster and faster, until even her head disappeared into the manticore's gaping jaws. I could hardly believe it as the bulge of the woman slid visibly down the monster's throat. He closed his mouth and _gulped_one last time, licking his lips and sighing as his throat worked the elf all the way down into his distended belly.

Burrrrp!

Perhaps if he had known he wasn't alone, he would have apologized. That's when I noticed that he, too, was aroused by the meal, something I hadn't expected. Walking in a tight circle, Gronmor settled down in a tight circle to rest, his fat belly heaving with each relaxed breath.

"Will she be okay?" I had to ask.

"Of course she will," a voice said, behind us. It was Brelda. "She didn't say the magic words. Now, I told you to leave, and here you are invading a client's privacy. I don't appreciate this."

I flicked an ear and said, "I can see why someone might want what you offer, but I can't see why _anyone_would choose to 'go all the way'. You don't seriously expect -"

Brelda growled again. "Try it, if you want to understand. On the house, any time. When you're done, _tell_me it wasn't at least a little tempting to stay there."

"Me?" I asked. "I don't think so..."

Willa just shrugged. "_She_seemed to enjoy it."

I rolled my eyes at my sister, always trying to cause trouble. "We're not done here, Brelda. We're going to get to the bottom of this."

"Be my guest," the goblin grumbled.

Outside the club, I told Willa our next move. "We need to learn more about Loruncai and his fiancee. And see if we can find anything out about gutter magic compulsions."

Willa nodded. "For once, my dear sister, I'm a little interested in one of your cases!"

I flicked my ears again. "As much as I hate to believe it, Brelda might not be the bad guy here..."