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_Connor was used to the looks by then. The heavy falls of his hooves meant he could never go anywhere without attracting at least some attention, and while most people just left him be once they realized he was just one of those quads, there was always that initial awkwardness. He was a horse. Not an anthro, but the regular sort, a proud and elegantly toned specimen of one, with thick flanks and well-fined muscle, along with just a bit of chub to him from the more anthro lifestyle. He was cautiously trotting along on all fours, trying to be as quiet as possible, his reddish brown shimmering slightly beneath the streetlights. Public attention wasn't what he sought, that night or most any other. They always gave him glances as if to silently wonder, was he supposed to be out here, walking the city streets all on his own, not even wearing a saddle or harness? But they quickly looked away again, trying not to stare. There was something in the way he walked, or the way he curiously scanned his surroundings as he went that tipped people off he was a person, and so they left him alone. Generally speaking, anyway. _

He wasn't sure what he was doing on that side of town. It wasn't the shady end, exactly. It was simply the kind of neighbourhood where people didn't just wander casually. There were far too many interesting sights, dens of hedonism and indulgence, many of questionable legal status. Among them, one drew his eye more than any of the others. It was all glitz and glamour, the neon signs impossible to miss, the faint rainy shimmer of that cool evening only serving to make it glow all the brighter. A great, winding snake wrapped in and out of the bright letters, spelling out a business name that struck him as at least faintly familiar, as if he had overheard it in conversation, spoken of in hushed but eager whispers.

Charlotte's Lounge

It was like something out of a movie, he thought, a historic picture of an old theatre brought to life in front of his eyes. He would have placed money on there definitely being some crimes committed in there on the regular. Maybe that very moment. There was something about the elaborate structure, about clopping its red carpeted entrance, flanked by serpentine statues in a bright gold tone, that drew him in and kept its hold on him. He heard music that sounded at first like the moans of someone in the throes of pleasure, the steady percussion beneath the heated voice the only indication it was a song. He couldn't see anything through the windows, and the doors were shut, but he got a good idea of what he was in for when he peered at the posters decorating the exterior of the establishment.

There were dancers dressed in outfits so salacious he felt flustered just to look at them. Those curvy figures had such weight, such form to them. They weren't like the sorts he say in magazines or ads. Maybe they were a little older, or just generally thicker, their hefty shapes highlighted in outfits of leather and lace. The poster promised shows so stimulating they'd leave the audience quivering, and they would be open in no more than an hour. There was just one problem. Pulling his eyes away from those shapely ladies, he felt his heart sink when he laid eyes on the text below. It was highlighted in bright red, bolded text, just to make sure nobody could miss it.

ABSOLUTELY NO ADMITTANCE TO ANYONE UNDER 21 YEARS OF AGE

It wasn't fair. He was an adult. More than one by then, he felt. A horse like him was already starting to feel a little wear and tear on some of his joints, physically aging somewhat faster than the anthros all around the city. He had to wonder if they'd bother to even ask a quadruped his age. One look would have told any bouncer that he was fully mature. He wasn't carrying any sort of ID of course, with the casual nudity and all. His head drooped but he didn't back away just yet. His eyes were back on those lovely bodies. They were just images, but he was already puffing out some hot air from his nostrils, admiring those pictures, those shapes. Before he realized what was happening, his sheath was dropping between his legs, going along with his sizable balls to make for an even lewder public display than usual. It wasn't like he could put on pants, and most of the time he got away with, but even the slightest twinge of arousal and he was showing off a whole lot more than he intended. And he was feeling a whole more than a twinge.

Being a horse was difficult. Everyone could see when he got even the slightest bit turned on, and he couldn't really do much about it without help. If he could have had anything he wanted, it might well have included someone to tend to him and milk him of his lust whenever he needed it, just to allow him to walk around in public without the danger of showing everyone his dick. They already stared at his balls plenty enough. He definitely saw them averting their gazes at the very last second. The worst of it was, the feeling of getting slightly aroused was slightly arousing. A little twitch caused him another twitch, caused him another, until he was fully displaying his whole cock, letting that weighty length sway there beneath him as he gazed longingly at the poster. A few more seconds of daydreaming and he was already showing some firmness, that limply swaying bludgeon filling out all the thicker, swelling to a semi-hard state while he puffed and snorted, lost in his all-consuming fantasies.

He didn't see her approaching. He didn't even feel her presence until he felt that hiss of introduction. Her presence was invisible to him until he turned with a start, his hooves clomping along on the sidewalk, his shaft swaying to the side with the momentum of his haunches swinging around. There was a snake there. A massive, plentiful serpent of sunflower yellow and cool ivory, she gazed down at him with emerald eyes, seemingly cold at first, her expression impenetrable as she flicked his tongue at him. He was always naked, except for the occasional accessory, but to simply stand under the penetrating scrutiny of her gaze was to feel more exposed than if he were enduring a blizzard, her cold presence bringing him such warmth. Of course, he was hardly looking at her face but for a cursory glance. His eyes were shamelessly locked upon her chest a while, examining the rounded shape of her scaly bust beneath the mostly-translucent lace of her fine lounging lingerie, the patterns of black roses doing very little to cover up her perked breasts.

It was so rare that Connor ever felt small. He was used to feeling awkwardly oversized, wherever he was, standing out in a crowd, too big for the room or the world in general. In front of the snake, he might as well have been a pony. When she straightened her back she was taller than him, thicker, heavier. Her coils were stretched out behind her, extending right through the entrance of the club, vanishing into the darkness beyond the doorway. He thought they might have gone on forever. He was mesmerized, possibly terrified, feeling something intensely primal coming out of him. No small part of him was filled with the instinctual desire to flee, to panic, to kick his hooves in the air and get as far away from the danger that she represented by simple virtue of being a luxuriantly large snake. Instead, his legs stiffened, locking out,keeping him from moving at all, but for his head, following her every subtle, calculated movement.

"Are we having some trouble, young man?"

She didn't quite outright hiss when she spoke, but there was still a sleek and sultry serpentine way about her, emphasized with every sexy syllable. Even exposed to her like that, he wasn't getting any softer. A nod of her head towards his cock told him she had certainly noticed. Of course she had. There was no missing such a blatant display. His response barely consisted of words, blustering out with a puff and even the beginnings of a nervous whinny.

"Ah! Um. What sort of trouble?"

She placed her hand beneath her chin and leaned just a little closer. Her presence had such a curious temperature. She was warming him just by being near him, yet still projected a coolness, a reptilian mystique that had him consistently rigid, his eyes wide, his teeth working on his lower lip. It took her some time to reply, simply breathing near him, flicking her tongue. Presumably, she was sampling his scent, one that grew increasingly musky as his arousal reached a head, his shaft flaring, his medial ring bulging, and the whole meaty length smacking up against his underside with an audible thud. Her voice was one both flirtatious and sympathetic.

"It must be difficult for you. There's no hiding it. I hope you aren't embarrassed."

"Well, I ... " came his blurted reply, and he shook his head. "You don't mind?"

She slowly shook her head, and he followed the motion closely.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of. It's only natural for a handsome horse like you. Tell me. Do you have a girlfriend to help you out when you get worked up like that? Maybe a boyfriend?"

He shook his head, nibbling his lip again.

"Mm, well. No, actually."

"I see, I see." Her coils shifted before the rest of her, and she came a precious few inches closer to his body. "Then, it must be such a burden. Such a lovely member, but not a hand to rub it with."

"I suppose. Yeah." He found himself nodding, possibly too frequently. "I never really thought about it that way."

"Mhmm. Perhaps you ought to come inside. I have things to show you."

It wasn't phrased as a question, and it was more than an invitation. She knew what was best for him. He couldn't help but give a little puff, tossing his dark tail, before watching her as she retracted her own slithers, accumulating them with the rest of her bulk as she vanished into the dimly lit confines of the burlesque theatre. He had no choice but to follow her. His curiosity beat out all other sensations, his worries and his doubts. He had to know what was waiting for him inside that forbidden palace of sin and pleasure. They couldn't have possibly lived up to his wildest imaginings, he figured. But that wasn't going to prevent him from getting his hopes up.

Trotting softly on the carpet, following her silent coils, he found himself temporary blinded, his eyes taking time to adjust to the darkness. There was lighting, but it was all dim, a sultry orange glow that reflected off of the snake's scales, making her look like she'd been dipped in gold. It wasn't just for lust that he watched her closely, following every swish and sway of her broad hips atop those coils. She was fascinating to look at her, movement flowing like a drink spilled across the floor, a flood of scales that flexed just so to propel her forward, as if by magic. He followed her until they emerged into an auditorium. The amount of seats staggered him, even if they were all empty for the moment. He counted dozens, maybe hundreds. Just how many people were did she normally get as guests on those evenings? He wouldn't have blamed them for flooding in. Especially not with such an enticing owner, and such delicious displays of decadence and seduction already in progress on the expansive stage.

Beneath the lights, the swirling patterns upon her azure scales seemed to glow. He'd never seen a dragoness of her intricacy. She was performing for an audience of none, now grown to two, her movements as rehearsed as they were sharp and sexual. A simple chair became a prop, a part of dance moves he'd never even dreamed of, and when she saw him staring she smiled to him. Even from afar, it was enough to root him to the spot once more, his cock giving another juicy twitch, spurting a streak of pre over his belly that left his hide glistening where the light caught it. The snake looked to him, her neutral expression growing to the smallest trace of a smirk, and then nodded to the dancer.

"Excellent. Perfect form, Xyria. I am sure our guest approves. Is that right?"

Connor nodded swiftly. "Ah, yeah! Really good!"

The dragoness swished around the chair, her tail tracing behind the complex movements of her hips, before simply sitting her broad form down, leaning over the back with crossed arms, flashing a grin of fangs.

"He's cute. Does he have a name?"

"I haven't asked," the snake said, passively.

There was a silence, and eventually he felt like they were looking to him for a response, so he stammered out an introduction.

"Cute," said Xyria, and then chuckled. "You probably don't even know who she is, do you?"

"Um, well. Not exactly. I guess I should ask for your name back. If that's alright, ma'am?"

The serpentess nodded. "Charlotte Atkinson."

Something about the name struck him as familiar, but he didn't inquire further.

"Looks like he likes you," the dragoness teased, and Charlotte chided her.

"Be kind. He carries a great burden. It is only right that I assist him. Come along, Connor. I will show you to my private chambers. We have some time before tonight's show begins."

There was so much that struck him as ominous about that. Not the least of which was the dragoness' giggle, and the teasing wave she gave to him as they two departed together. He perked at the strangest scents, some like traces of fragrant incense, others like the traces of carnal acts long past. He was sniffing like he had a cold, hardly realizing how silly he must have looked, throbbing with lust while inhaling as much and as many of those exotic aromas wafting around the club as he possibly could. Soon his head was swimming, spinning, his gait turning slightly crooked as he found himself intoxicated by the place itself, by that den of sin beyond his wildest imaginings. He felt like he had slipped into a fantasy, into a situation that couldn't possibly be real, and any moment he was going to realize it was all a dream and he was foolish for thinking he could ever really fall under the sway of such a devilishly tempting serpent. Yet there she slithered on, guiding him through wide back halls, until they were finally slipping into a private space together.

The purpose of the room was abundantly clear as soon as he was inside. A broad expanse of pillows decorated the majority of the room. The lighting was low, shaded a romantic pink. On the walls, several tools and toys were neatly organized, put on full display. He only recognized some of them. Other seemed deceptively mundane, simple household objects that were hanging with the more salacious of bindings and blindfolds. He could only guess how they might have been lewdly implemented. He looked to Charlotte as she reached past him to close the door, and he heard the click of a lock. It was just the two of them, mingling in each other's scents, her coils stretched about the room to form a scaly perimeter, a barrier that slowly closed in on him as she tightened her muscles and moved near to his form.

She didn't say much, be her hissing felt every bit as communicative as words. He understood her, or at least his body did. The texture of her scales on his bare hide was every bit as pleasant as he had imagined it since first seeing her. The smallest stroke was stimulating, leaving him rooted once more as she ran her fingers down the length of his spine, working all the way from his shoulders to his hindquarters with careful, delicate administrations of attention. She was examining him right down to his muscular structure, and yet so gentle in the process. When she moved in front of him, he found himself holding his breath for a while, only to let it all out at once with a sharp gasp as he saw her stripping from her outfit. A pull of a string, and she was bare, letting the fabric fall from her scaled curves, revealing her form to him fully. It was enough to make his cock throb up against his belly, thumping up against it with a faintly wet noise, leaving a watery smear of precum right where the tip met his soft underside. He was only dripping more when she moved to introduce him to her bosom, a hand gently, yet insistently planted on the back of his head, fingers in his mane, directing him between her breasts to nuzzle and snuggle there a while. He listened to her slowly beating heart, and closed his eyes, faintly huffing between his pursed lips.

He felt like he could have stayed there forever, lost in her grasp, feeling her stroking him, admiring him, making him feel so welcomed, even safe. It was a shroud of comfort that fell over him, feeling her scales rubbing against his bare skin, evoking a peaceful sensation that he swore he could even feel in his hooves. She let him go in time, and left him with his eyes shut tight, dreamily drifting in his delight until she jolted him from that silly state with a firm squeeze to the taut muscles of his backside. That had him gasping and tossing his head, turning to look back at her, watching her as she intensely focused on her target. She kneaded his rump until he was flagging his tail for her, the reaction coming automatically. There was an anatomical expertise to her every touch, one that brought such curious responses from his muscles, leaving him quivering right down to his hooves as she casually brushed down his rump and pressed two fingers to his taint.

"Good boy," she told him, and it didn't even sound condescending. "You need someone to touch you in the right places. All the things you can't do yourself."

"Y-yeah," he huffed, though he felt foolish for even speaking. She didn't need his feedback. She knew exactly what he needed.

Down she went, massaging beneath his rim until she could cup his balls. She bounced them a few times, rolled them between her fingers, silently admiring his heft, his size. He stomped a hoof as she took hold of his cock, snorting out, grunting. Her touches remained gentle, yet still so precise, fingertips glossing down the details, admiring every vein. She bumped over his medial ring, making it swell out with a throb, and she finally made her way down to the flared tip. Pressing her palm to that oozing slit meant getting her scales glistening with the pre he was pumping out. That mess was only getting thicker as she toyed with him, treating him like he was a prized stallion, and not just some horse who she'd lured in off the street. Her palms were soaking after a few good rubs to his tip, and she pulled back to squeeze the shiny coating between her fingers with a juicy squelch before she brought her hand to her mouth and slurped away his taste with generous flicks of her forked tongue.

He stood in stunned silence, listening to the wet sound of her indulgently gulping down his juices. She followed that with a smooth lick over her lips and another of those hisses that sounded like a soothing waterfall.

"Very nice. So much tension. How long have you been waiting for someone to come along and do this for you, Connor? It's unfair to leave you aching for so long, I say."

Listening to her speak gave him two distinct feelings. On the one hand, he wanted to simply closing his eyes and let her lull her to sleep with her soothing tones. On the other, he was left thumping, pulsing, spurting hard, wanting to just mount up against the wall and thrust until he blew his load from sheer force of arousal. That wasn't going to be necessary. She was touching him again, resting one hand firmly on the small of his back, just atop his haunches, bracing herself as she reached beneath him to firmly clasp around the base of his shaft, gripping tight, holding him frozen in the pent up tension until he felt like he might just float away. Her palm was slick, her scale sliding along his skin wetly, gliding and glossing up his inches until they were all but glowing in the erotic light. She went slowly at first, building up in speed with every stroke until she swiftly jerking him off with unblinking focus.

He couldn't even form a proper horse noise. His voice was all a whimpery mess, and he was soon moaning like he was the star of a cheesy porn film. He always thought, no one really sounds like that, but there he went, moaning foolishly. It was embarrassing to think that someone might have overheard him, but he let that thought slip from his mind as he lost himself in pleasure. It was just a small thing, nothing more than a handjob from that sultry snake, but he had never needed anything more than those smoothly perfected motions. He tossed his tail and his mane alike, he closed his eyes, he bit his lower lip hard enough it hurt, all caught up in the rapture of her attention until he couldn't possibly last any longer. It wasn't about showing off his stamina anyway. It was about milking him for all his stallionesque virility, draining him of the pent up tension that kept his balls pumping tight against his body, swelling, clenching, and finally pulling taut as his flare swelled out fully, his cock bulging with the sheer volume of stallion cum pumping through it.

Finding his neighs again, he tossed his head straight back, snorting hotly and nickering while his whole body erupted, the tingling ecstasy surging through his every muscle, the sweat glistening upon him while he blasted his seed upon the floor. She kept on stroking even while he soaked the surroundings, pooling cum that reached as far as her accumulated coils. He was left huffing, wobbling, feeling as if would have keeled right over if she so much as nudged him on the side. His legs were locked in place, as stiff as the rest of him, his shaft still hardened, flared, dripping the watery remnants of a floor-soaking orgasm, already recharged and ready for more. He felt primed, virile, as potent as a breeding stallion, brimming with masculinity even as he whimpered under her slightest touch. He was hardly even aware of her by then, left numbed and oblivious until he felt the weight of her coils on his back, curling around his entire form, letting him feel the musculature beneath the thickness as she wrapped about his belly and squished against his light pudge, giving him the first sample of her powerful constricting muscles.

She wasn't crushing or suffocating him, but he could feel the strength in those mighty coils, the danger that it represented just to be in her grasp. He felt her tightening her hold, pressing up against his spine, or his belly. It was just enough to squeeze a little air out of his joints, to startle him with those pops he heard until he realized he wasn't being broken to bits. She could have easily done it, but she treated him with care. His hooves were still touching the floor, but less so, some of his weight heft right up by her scaly grip, and all the while she was winding herself around to slip her face between his hind legs, casting her oddly cool breath upon his cock. He was rigid as ever, but somehow even harder just to feel her lingering near his shaft, before she even touched again. The first touch of her tongue brought a silly nicker from him, his mouth falling open as he bucked his hips upwards, fighting down the urge to kick with excitement. She was holding him too tightly for that anyway, keeping him captive in her coils, wrapped up tight in her sleek embrace while she flicked her forked tonguetip against the twitching spire of his shaft.

The whiny noise coming from his lips sounded like it would have better fit a frightened dog, much less a proud stallion like himself. Anyone would have made noises like that when she was parting her lips around the very tip of his member, giving it a subtle snaky kiss from her inverted position beneath his haunches. She had herself wound around him neck to hips, keeping his muscles twitching, leaving him trapped in her erotic hug as she sampled his taste delicately, swiping her tongue back and forth across his dripping tip. He fought down the urge to spurt right that very moment, at the first tiny peck of her soft lips, but he knew he wanted to savour that mind-blowing experience. The last thing in the world was to cut it short before she fully enveloped his spire, slowly suckling her way down, half an inch at a time, pushing his pulsing dick towards the back of her throat with casual flair. It seemed effortless for her to start swallowing it, fitting it into the confines of her slippery gullet as easily as breathing, even while the outline of his shaft made a slight indent in her creamy white throat scales. She sucked her way down, swishing and swaying her whole body to the silent beat of hypnotic pleasure as she swallowed his dick to the very base. Even his balls were fair game, her lips pressing around those darkly, swollen horse nuts, slipping them inside her mouth so she could hungrily suckle on them right along with his entire cock at once. A dozen awkward, sloppy blowjobs from partner's past could not possibly have prepared him for the sensation of the perfect sucking off, buried there beyond balls deep in the wet maw of a seductive snake mistress.

By then, he wasn't even trying to balance. He would have collapsed without her grip upon him, keeping him upright, all but lifting him from the ground. For once in his life he felt small, even weightless, constricted in her lust, buried in the deep reaches of her gullet, feeling the impressive working of her inner muscles. It was a massage unlike any he'd ever felt. It took him into an altered state, his mind shut down by the sheer delight of getting sucked by the snake. Every inch, every detail was getting its own kneading inside her throat, her constant slurking and swallowing stealing away every drop of juices he gave her, guzzling them down without a moment's hesitation. She didn't need to stop for breath, and her jaws never seemed to tire, no matter how firmly she worked her lips up and down his spire, leaving him tossing his head back and simply holding that position, feeling like he was floating as orgasm came rushing through him once again, seizing his entire body as he sought desperately to buck and kick, to launch into a full on equine frenzy. She had him far too tightly for that, suppressing his wildest urges, keeping him locked in place, trapped in her grip, even his attempted whinnies and neighs silenced as she tightened just a little more around his chest, leaving him without air for those precious seconds of gushing climax.

The sheer amount of cum he shot down her throat would have left the average woman swollen and bloated. She didn't even show signs of being weighed down. All that equine jizz vanished beneath the fat upon her belly, not giving so much as a slosh as she pulled off his spurting shaft, letting the rest pour enticingly down the curve of her bosom, coating and clinging to her scales, leaving her shining bright with the musky mark. She teased him with a single swipe of her tongue before withdrawing, leaving his entire body rattling in place, rigid, ready to keel over if not for her enduring grip. Her strength was enough to keep him exactly in place, supporting the full weight of his body with nothing more than her serpent grip, keeping him captive while she slid along him, stroking her arms along his back, squishing her fingers between soft stretches of her own coils. She hissed her way to his face, looking him in the eyes, seeing herself reflected in his enraptured gaze, and finally met his lips with her own.

Connor couldn't keep up with her tongue. She moved it in such fascinating ways, tasting every corner of his mouth while he stood wobbling and shuddering, orgasm hitting him harder than he had ever felt before, leaving him lightheaded, shaking all over, his muscles hit with a persistent sensation of weakness. It might have just been the lack of air. She still wasn't crushing him, but every moment she held him was an enduring reminder that she could, if she so much as willed it. He was a solid horse, built for running, yet he felt as fragile as paper, as if he might just crumple up with just a little more squeezing. She didn't break him, simply keeping him secure as he lost himself in her sloppy kiss, swallowing her hisses as surely as her spit, closing his eyes and letting his moans be muffled in her open gullet as his face slipped past the tight grip of her lips.

He couldn't have stopped her even if he realized what was happening. In his altered state, drunk on her attention, he remained blissfully ignorant far longer than he rightfully should have. Even as his head slipped inside her jaws, sucked from all sides, pushed nose-first towards the back of her gullet, he remained still, calm, simply enjoying the warmth and wetness for what it was, not what it represented. The swallow might have roused him from his stupor if it wasn't for the sweet sensation of her grinding her lower coils against his cock. A pair of orgasms hadn't slowed him much. A few strokes and he was hard for her again, flaring out, catching at the slit located near the very tip of her tail. He wasn't sure if that was her pussy, or otherwise. He wasn't thinking much of anything anymore, especially when she was curling the dexterous tip of her lengthy coils, pressing the point right against his taint, working her way up until she was toying with his rear end, finally penetrating him. Any noise he wanted to make was lost inside her throat, his entire head fitting snugly in the constricting grip of her gulping, every squeeze pressing him deeper into the darkness beyond her lips.

It was something he'd never thought about. He was never in any danger of it happening to him, or so he figured. That thought remained firm in his head even once she's swallowed him to the shoulders. She'd stuffed his whole neck down her throat, but that must have been the end of it. It must have been nothing more than a deadly tease, a flirt with danger, just the sort of thing she needed to do to get him even harder than he'd ever been before. It was certainly working. He was leaking all over her scales as she massaged him with her slit, grinding up and down with muscular flexes of her lower coils, gliding along his shaft but not allowing him to penetrate. A rub was enough to keep him spurting, even as she did the seemingly impossible, stretching her jaws to an unnatural size, overtaking his puffing chest, her saliva the lube that kept her lips gliding along his hide, bending his front legs back so they fit along with the rest of him. He thought it unnatural at least, but for a snake like her, it was as natural as breathing.

He remained standing the entire time, even if he could possibly have balanced any longer with just two hooves planted on the floor. The sound of his puffing, his gasping, even his thumping heart echoed all around him as he descended into her slick, massaging depths. Or was that her own? Surely not. She was far too calm and collected for her heart to be pounding like that. Charlotte remained impressively passive as she consumed him, breathing slowly even as she filled her throat with horsemeat. His impressive musculature bulged out beneath her scales when he flexed, stretching her to what would have been beyond her limit, were she anything but a snake. She was built for this. And she was hungry enough to eat him all, the sloppy glide down his back and his soft belly streaking his upper half with her spit, streams of serpent drool dripping down near his hooves, leaving him swelling out her tits, her belly, but continuing deeper towards her lowest reaches.

Eventually he keeled over. She couldn't hold him up anymore when he was bulging into her snake half, swelling out those fat coils with his bulk. It didn't feel like collapsing, but merely settling down as if to a deep nap. His cock was still twitching away wildly, and his arousal was the only thing that kept him squirming. His hooves clopped at the floor as he writhed in her grasp, her slowly plunging tail pushing in and out of his backside. It wasn't the first time he'd been penetrated, but certainly never before by a gorgeous snake, those sensations leaving him whimpering and whinnying, making both noises at once, feeling as if he had two voices. It was all muffled in the humid darkness, the squelch of her insides kneading around him drowning out all yes. He still had some air in there, though it was as thin as it was damp. It was enough for him to take a deep huff and fill his lungs for a shaky cry, his tail flagging high as she rubbed his prostate in just the right way, instantly leaving him clamping down upon her tail, hooves scrambling on the floor but finding little purchase as he blasted into a third orgasm, the flick of her tongue against the very tip of his cock sending him from peaking to exploding outwards with another wash of horse cum, splattering over her scaly tits, soaking into every crevice of her scales.

He was in no position to properly appreciate his handiwork, which was a shame. He would have been proud to see his cum soaking over that plump upper half of her body, forming a puddle over her breasts, running into her cleavage, pouring all the way down to her belly, coating that rounded swell in hot cream. His orgasm lasted several seconds longer than he was used to, until he was left flinching, scrambling there, flailing his hooves and tail alike as the pleasure barrelled past his limits. He couldn't bear anymore, but any attempt at protest was silenced by the gurgles just ahead of him. They were growing louder, echoing in the slimy darkness of her extended throat, leaving him helpless but to let her overstimulate him just a little. She finally relented as she pressed his cock towards the back of her throat. Deepthroating it was hardly a feat anymore, considering she was soon fitting the whole of his haunches into her expansive maw, framing his rounded rear in her gaping, unhinged jaws, leaving one last glimpse of his shapely backside and outstretched legs before she was squeezing the rest of him down.

Her body distended like it was made of elastic, stretching out around his bulge as she shoved him down into her outstretched coils. A hissy sigh finished him off, smoothly slipping around the curve of his butt, slurping up his balls, leaving his donut hole one of the last things anyone would have seen before she sealed her lips up tight along his ankles, overtook his hooves, and completed her feeding with a fling of spit and sweat that reached as far as the wall. After that, she was left stretched out as near to straight as she could get, reaching across the entire room and back again, licking her lips in a slow, smooth stroke like she was applying lipstick rather than cleaning off the lingering delight that was the taste of the sturdy horse. Her tits still dripped with cum as she sprawled out, letting the bulge of equine squish all the way down to the middle of her coils. She was thick and padded, but even she was bulging with the shape of him. There wasn't much that was distinct about it. Mostly he was a great big lump in the fat body of a hungry naga, his squirms inside her stomach faintly visible on the outside, but she hardly paid them mind.

"Very good, Connor," she said, though the words were lost on him as he gurgled away within her gorgeous body. "Settle down now. You will be there awhile as I work on you. I take my time."

She didn't bother to glance back at the massive bulge stretched across the floor either. Her sensations told her enough about what was going on. Perhaps she wondered to herself if he was even aware of what had happened to him as he slowly faded there inside her. His squirms were relatively modest, and they were slowing with each second he spent trapped inside her scaly gut. He wasn't kicking nor showing any sign of panic. Her belly subdued him, churn by churn, doing nothing to work on the bulge of his body just yet, but the airlessness was enough to render him dormant, slowing, fading. Just two minutes and he was motionless, but Charlotte hardly noticed that significant moment. She had already drifted off to sleep, her chin resting on her folded hands as she snuck a brief nap before the big opening, lulled to sleep by the contented feeling of fullness sending pleasant tingles through her muscles, and the soothing tones of the constant gurgling as her belly set to work on a few hundred pounds of horse. She was going to need a while to properly work him down - but in the meantime, she had work to do. Not fifteen minutes of warmly dozing, and she was awakened by her own instincts. Not those of a snake, but those of a host. The first guests were at the door, and she had introductions to make. Perhaps she would have to speak more loudly to be heard above the churning.

---

"Woah, look at ..."

"That's an enormous bulge."

"Is it still moving?"

"I don't think so ..."

"How did she even manage to get them inside?"

"Maybe that's a few people ..."

"That's ... that's just. Is that allowed?"

"I think so. At least she's full for now."

"Yeah ... probably ... "

Charlotte wasn't deaf. She could hear the murmurings just fine as she took the stage, dragging her engorged coils behind her. Her prey was every bit as solid as when she'd eaten him, only one hour previous, a heavy weight to haul around with her every movement. She didn't let that stop her from leaning into the microphone to introduce the night's show, speaking slightly less softly than usual to be sure she could be heard above the gurgles. Her stomach was going hard at that point, setting up the initial digestion at a frantic pace, though of course it wasn't making any considerable progress just yet. The room was darkly lit, built she couldn't help but notice the staring gazes. Of course, she was used to them by then, but these were different. There were so many eyes tracing down her body and to the shape of the horse stretched out in her gut. They looked at her with fascination, or with horror, and sometimes just blatant lust. She only glanced at them briefly, each in turn, acting as if she didn't notice them. But she couldn't help swirling her coils around, making sure that her fat bulge took centre stage once she finished her introductions, the tinted spotlight glowing upon the vague shape of Connor, ensuring they all got one good but fleeting look before she departed through the red curtains and let her performers take over.

Normally, her position was just offstage, directing things as needed, and keeping a close eye on her dancers. She never closed her eyes, but she found herself drifting where she sat upon her coils, resting her weight against the weight of the horse, squishing against him and letting her belly rumble against her back. That was enough to soothe her, to coax her into a slumber that she only woke from when the final curtain fell. She briefly gasped, surprised at herself, but from the crowd's applause she knew that everything had gone well. Rising with a jaw-unhinging yawn, she tasted Connor on her breath, and felt him dragging behind her as she slithered about, ensuring all her employees were tended to, that they had everything they needed before she retired to her office. Home wasn't far away, but she knew she wasn't going to make it that night. The floor was comfortable enough, that was where she snoozed until morning, coiled up and snuggling against the shapely form of a horse bulge beneath her scales, loudly working away through the night, softening ever so slightly but near solid as ever by the time she woke from the extended slumber.

The audience was never thin, but she was noticing more and more regulars each night as she digested the horse over the course of a full week. They stayed for the whole show, but their attention was highest when she was on stage. She looked them in the eye one by one after a while, making sure they knew she'd noticed them. Not as a threat. More an invitation. And each time she took to the stage, the horse inside her was a little softer, a little smaller. Solid lumps in her coils smoothed down and flattened, little by little, converting pounds of horse meat into snake food, churn by churn, hour by hour, day by day. There was still plenty of him left, but she was already thickening out by the third day. Much of him went to her coils themselves, fattening them up, adding some extra squishing padding, leaving her slithers extra squishy. Some went to her tits and anthro gut, leaving her with plenty to rub and squeeze in those private moments in her office. The constant churning was quieter by then, a slow simmer that gradually converted Connor into a part of her, and it was several more days of softening before he was fully gone, his solid form melted down entirely and converted into snake fat after a full week spent slow-roasting in her gut.

It wasn't a matter of any urgency, but she knew when her body was done with him. There was pressure, and there was weight. She had plenty of time to leave the club and slither off to a nearby alley. The dumpster was mostly empty, and that was good. She lifted the lid, and raised her lower coils up high, hefting them with the assistance of her arms. Everything about her was a little slower than before as she got used to the extra padding, but she would adjust. First, she needed to dispose of her meal, the week-long journey through her winding intestines complete, and her slit, her cloaca starting to stretch open to admit the massive load of waste that used to be a whole horse. Her slit bulged with with the thick load of snakeshit pressing out, packed solid into heavy chunks of featureless brown. She'd digested his hide, his hair, his bones, almost every solid part of him had been softened and squeezed through like any other meat. There were tiny traces there if anyone was looking closely, but she was all alone, free to squeeze him out into the empty dumpster, his adventure into her seductive grip ending in being shat out in an alley not far from the exotic cabaret that had lured so many to their digestive demise.

The first piece must have weighed a dozen pounds or more, and it was simply the start of a truly massive dump. She heard it thud below, but she didn't let that distract her. She was faintly hissing her breaths as she pressed tight, pushing him out smoothly, comfortable. He hadn't given her body any trouble through the entire process, and that continued right to the process of getting rid of him. Another piece broke off and landed atop the first, a great spiralling mass of dark brown steaming there in the bottom of the dumpster, piling up high the longer she was at it. She might have been bored if it wasn't for the pleasant, satisfying sensation of relief that came stronger the more of him she piled up below. As the process slowed, she swayed her body back and forth, coaxing out the last few tightly-packed chunks of former horse, letting them plop down to steam with the rest. The only definite indication it was him came then, in form form of his solid hooves. They were enough to make her gasp briefly as they slipped from her, but she squeezed them out like all the rest of him, letting them thud down to top off the pile, leaving that hint as to who the massive dump used to be. It was only a few minutes before she was finally done, finally felt empty, thought it felt longer after an exertion like that. Her stretched tailslit sealed back up tight as she huffed a few times and stretched her back.

There was enough snakeshit to fill half a dumpster. She glanced back briefly, but mostly just to close the lid again, sealing him away as she moved on without comment. There was no sense talking to her former meal. She'd taken everything she needed from him, and left behind the rest. Her coils were padded, softened, sliding along beneath her more smoothly than ever before. She felt as if she glistened with relief after that satisfying dump, a faint sigh passing through her body, from the tip of her nose to the very end of her tail as she returned to work. She hadn't eaten since the horse went down her gullet. He was more than enough to satisfy her for at least a few more days, while she focused on preparing for the next week of shows. But she was going to need to eat again in time, and she found herself considering the many wide-eyed faces in the audience, reciting what she could remember of them, painting a picture in her mind. The only question was who she wanted. She didn't bother to consider how she might lure them away for some alone time. It was as simple as inviting them. No one would resist the call of her coils, no matter how dangerous they knew she could be. No one ever had. And so she grew ever thicker, fattened by the lovely morsels she had tempted into her hungering embrace, time and time again.