> Hotel Calivorenia
>  by Withania
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Ocean Blanket [Pilot]
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ocean Blanket walked up the garden path to the last house on the street. It was more of a cul-de-sac than a street, since it only had a few cottages on it, and didn’t lead anywhere as it was already the edge of town. He wasn’t even sure that this was the right place. The directions he was following were vague, although they did insist that the location was quite unassuming. But the house did match the description, a bright and well-kept garden, and a huge rear garden visible from the side, with a greenhouse almost as big as the cottage itself.

The earth pony hesitated for a moment. Once he knocked on the door, there might be no turning back. But if everything he’d heard was true, he was about to embark on the vacation of his dreams. He knocked decisively, two times, and then sat down. It was done now. The door opened and a green earth pony with a terracotta mane looked out at him.

“Hello, can I help you?” she asked.

“Uh, perhaps you can... is… is this the Hotel Nightshade?” he replied, The mare in the doorway’s expression turned from innocent curiosity to a sly smile in an instant.

“It is… please, come in…” she replied, pulling the door open and inviting him over the threshold. He stepped over into a narrow hall, which lead into either a living room or toward a kitchen at the back of the house. The mare indicated for him to follow her into the kitchen, leading the way with a shapely rear that he couldn’t help but stare at as she walked with an exaggerated swing in her step. “My name is Withania Nightshade. If you know about my hotel, I trust you’re already familiar with the service I provide? Are you looking to check-in, or just making enquiries?”

As he’d been told, Withania was clearly a plant lover and avid gardener - apparently, that was her main profession - so it wasn’t surprising that there were countless indoor plants of varying shapes and sizes in every corner. Many of them had a tag or label hanging over them or poking out from the soil bearing what seemed to be a cutie mark. As they entered the kitchen, there was a shelf of jars along the back wall, each one containing a large seed the diameter of a hoof. Some had two or more inside, and as with the plants, were meticulously labelled with either cutie mark symbols or handwriting that couldn’t be read at a distance. They sat down at the kitchen table, which was empty save for another jar of large seeds. Curiously, this one was entirely unlabelled.

“Uh… Well, I came looking just to see if this place- I mean, if your hotel really existed, but truth be told I’m quite prepared to check-in immediately. But I’m a little unsure what questions to ask… the staff at the Hidden Appetite were adamant that I should come and see you in person.”

Withania opened the jar on the table as Ocean spoke and took out a seed at random. Without breaking eye contact with him she opened her mouth, revealing its inside to be as green as her coat, and carefully placed the seed on her tongue before closing her mouth again and deliberately swallowing. Ocean Blanket watched wide-eyed as a prominent bulge appeared at the very top of her throat, before moving down her neck and vanishing into her chest.

“Well,” she said slowly, enjoying his reaction, “As I’m sure you’ve heard, I have some rather unique talents, principle of which is that I can swallow a pony whole, and melt their body into my personal nectar. Their essence, that is, their mind and soul, is condensed into a seed that I… leave behind.” She gestured to the jar on the tablet, and Ocean’s gaze locked onto it again. He had heard about this, and he’d seen the jars in her house - but hearing her say it while it was right in front of him, the seeds were ponies. Did that mean the plants…?

“Additionally,” she continued, following his gaze to the seeds and then to the house plants, “I can grow the seeds not just back into the original pony, but alternatively into a tamer plant. As a seed or a plant, I can keep them indefinitely, and then return them to normal within a day. And finally, of course, there’s an optional intermediate stage where a pony’s essence remains stored as part of my own body.” Here she places one forehoof prominently on her nightshade cutie mark, indicating exactly what that extra padding Ocean had seen as she walked was.

“When you say ‘indefinitely’…”

“My guests can choose the length of their stay, and I carefully record each one so that when their checkout day arrives, I can regrow them, and they leave the following morning. Some stay for a few days, some a few weeks. Some also ask me to pick a checkout day at random between a range, so they are left uncertain as to how long they will be stored for.

“I also offer a rotation service, where guests can spend time on the hip, as a seed, and as a plant, to experience all my services. They can also choose, within reason, the manner in which they are initially transformed.”

Ocean’s heart was thumping at the possibilities before him. The idea of being trapped as an… object… that this mare would manipulate and store like a product on a shelf was intoxicating. Although the logistics of it seemed highly dangerous… What if he got lost, or mislabeled, and was stuck forever?

“What are these seeds?” he said, gesturing to the jar on the table. “They don’t seem to be labelled.”

“Oh these?” Withania took out another seed and casually swallowed it whole, licking her lips with her green tongue. “Some of my guests specifically ask to be lost in the system. They are anonymous here, I’m not sure who they are, but I eat them at random, and then they end up in the garden, or back on my hips. Sometimes I put them in a drawer for a week. Eventually, the seed will grow somewhere at random and they get released, but there’s no guarantee when that will be. I wouldn’t recommend this service for a first-timer… but now you know it exists…”

“Are they aware of what’s happening? Can they feel or sense anything?” Ocean hadn’t noticed is, but he was leaning forward, hanging onto her every word and drinking in the concept of being part of her nursery for the duration of his holiday.

“It varies, but most ponies experience their stay here in a dream-like state. They have no direct senses, but the mind fills in the blanks, making them feel however they imagine it to be like. Time passes intermittently, with certain moments dragging out as they become aware of the sensation of being tightly packed into a small space while I move them around, while days of sitting on a shelf blur together. Plants are more consistent, with some physical sentience, and a steady passage of time. Plants experience time at a greatly reduced speed, so the world around them seems to move very quickly. As a result, a week as a plant can seem like only a day.”

“And… and what about your ass- I mean, your hips?”

Withania smiled again, her bedroom eyes on full-beam. “I’m told that I’m very soft and comfy. And the motion of my walk followed by the press of me sitting down is most enjoyable.”

“Oh my. Um, I would… very much like to check-in. May I have your rotation service? The full tour, so to speak? I have two weeks of vacation if that’s enough time…”

“Absolutely,” she said, producing a sheet of paper from a drawer under the table. “Please fill out this form, it confirms your personal details, the specifics of your stay, and a brief disclaimer that you understand the scene in which you wish to partake.”

Ocean Blanket carefully ticked through the boxes, before initialling at the bottom of the form.

“What’s this last bit?” he asked, pointing to the last section, “Willing or Duress, Sated or Wanting?”

“All of my guests are willing to the extent that they checked-in of their own free will, but should you wish, I can use my pollen breath to hypnotise you. This can give you a better sensation of being out of control, it helps some ponies relax, or feel less self-conscious. The other part refers to your sexual desire - I am happy to ensure that you let off some steam, so to speak, as I check you in. Or as some prefer, I can deny that, and you will be transformed with all your pent up energy and no way to release it.”

Ocean blushed at this talk. She was so forward, yet entirely professional in the way she offered herself like this. He knew that he was just another client to her, but her soft voice and friendly demeanour was encouraging. She clearly understood the wants of her clients very well and had a keen interest to make them happy. He ticked the last two boxes and handed the form to Withania, who filed it into another drawer.

“Thank you, follow me please, and we’ll get started.” She walked into the living room, putting on her show for him once again. There was an open space between the sofa and armchairs where a coffee table would usually go. The green mare bent down and pulled a gym matt out from under the sofa, positioning it in the middle of the room, gesturing for Ocean to lay down.

“Forgive me, but I’m a little excited…” he said, nodding downwards to where his shaft was already fully erect between his legs.

“I’d be disappointed if you weren’t,” she replied with a smile. He sat back on the matt as indicated and she stood over him, placing her forehooves on his shoulders for balance as she aligned her shapely rear over his perpendicular mast. Then with expert control, she descended, her green pussy parting to let his cock slip inside inch by inch. Ocean expected her to ease into this - but as if she was larger inside than she was out, he watched in astonishment as his entire length vanished between her thighs until she was sitting on him, her pleasant weight pinning him down.

She drew him into a long kiss, letting him relax in his position, before gently rocking back and forth so that his length inside her was stimulated from base to tip. His guard lowered and she felt the tension leave his shoulders as his hips moved in unison with her own. There was no room for him to thrust, but her clutch on his stallionhood was so absolute that he didn’t even have to. He leaned up to continue the kiss, and she opened her mouth so that his nose pushed inside. Her tongue licked the underside of while chin as her lips pressed on top of his muzzle, hinting at what was going to happen next. He didn’t pull back, and taking it as a cue, she opened her mouth wide - impossibly wide, but with evident ease. Ocean saw a cave of green, lined with golden hues of a sweet-smelling saliva, funnelling to the back of Withania’s maw, where he was destined to end up. The cave grew in size, stretching past his field of vision until she had gently enveloped his head.

He doubted himself for a moment, fearing he might climax into here there and then - just as everything was starting - but she was more skilled than that. With great care, she rationed out the amount of movement he had to hump his crotch against hers so that he could maintain a strong erection without going into runaway. Unable to see what was going on anymore, he felt her take his forelegs from her flanks and place them against his sides. His heartbeat quickened further as he sensed the pivotal moment approaching. Right now, she could just release him, or he could pull back - this could be stopped. But any moment now, she was going to swallow and drag his body into her own, imprisoning him there until nothing remained. By all accounts, he was already trapped. Perhaps not by force, but coercion. In the midst of his sexual fantasy he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to, she could sit back and command him to climb down her throat and he would do it without a second thought.

Withania meanwhile, was deaf to the rush of thoughts and emotion in her newest guest and pressed herself over his body down to the chest. This was about as far as she could go while he was still hilting inside her, and so she clenched herself around his throbbing shaft, drawing forth his climax, pulling it from him to keep for herself. And climax he did, at her command his cock quivered and tensed before pulsing with a surge of hot liquid seed - all of which was mixed into the thick nectar dripping from her pussy like milk into tea. She waited so he could appreciate the moment, and as soon as he relaxed in her grasp she pulled her hips away from him to a better angle for swallowing.

And swallow she did - with firm pressure she forced herself over him, gulping down his torso and then his flanks, cramming his body into her own. Her neck was bulging out, straining with the mass of stallion squeezed inside, until she swallowed his hindquarters down to push everything along. The bulge moved through her chest and ballooned out her belly into an irregular shape of limbs and bumps that squirmed and traced lines against their fleshy prison.

“Ulp! Here we are,” said Withania, rubbing her neck with one hoof as it eased back down to normal size, “This will be your room for the next hour or so, I think you’ll find the pool is heated, and quite drinkable. Now we’ll get started with your complimentary massage, and you can try out the delightfully soft bedding that is my ass…”

With some effort owing to the size of her belly, she rolled over onto her front so that the weight of her hips and upper body pressed down onto the writhing green bulge her stomach was making. Next, she gently gyrated her flanks, letting her leaking pussy and vagina smoosh against the solid lump of Ocean’s head resting between her hips. It would take a little time for her nectar to really break the pony down - however, that just meant she could pleasure herself on him first.

This was one of her favourite parts, just as her new guest thought that the main event was over, they would find themselves still being pinned and dominated by the mare who had just eaten them. The inside of her thighs squeezed and rubbed on their body, working her nectar into their skin.

As Ocean’s snout pressed up against Withania’s nethers from the inside, she felt a lump move inside her, being pushed through extremities of her gut. She moaned and a nectar-slicked seed slowly eased out from under her tail, dropping to the floor - which she ignored. This would be one of the anonymous guests that she’d eaten earlier at the table. Swallowing a whole pony tended to push everything else through a little faster to make more room. She knew there was a second one to come, so she clenched up as best she could, letting the pressure build as she continued to grind on Ocean’s head, pressing him down against the floor and kneading him inside her belly.

“Mmmm Ocean, can you feel that bulge just above your nose?” she said. The enveloped stallion would be softening up now, but because her voice literally surrounded him, she knew he would still hear. “That’s a seed, and after I’m finished with you, you’ll end up just like that. Keep it in mind, because you’re about to turn into mush…”

Withania pushed herself down particularly hard as she said this, causing the pressure in her rear to overcome her clenching - and the second seed she’d swallowed popped out onto the floormat. The sudden motion and release tipped her over the edge, and she hit her climax. Her thighs clamped around the bulge of her belly, she hugged herself with both forelegs, and she felt Ocean Blanket inside her deform in shape, his body turning into thick goop. At the same time, her orgasm triggered another response from her body - yet another of her guests that had been previously resting on her flanks had condensed back into a new seed within her womb. She could feel this third seed press out of her inner chambers and pass down her velvet passage to ooze out from her folds.

“Looks like you’ll have the penthouse to yourself, Ocean,” she teased, lifting herself up from the floor on slightly shaky legs. “It’s about time for that pony to check out. Time for a cup of tea while you thin out a little more, and then we’ll go and plant these seeds I think.”

Her belly had shrunk in enough to clear the floor now, and with a sway and a wobble, she waddled out of the living room to put the kettle on. She carefully rinsed the three seeds of her nectar. The two anonymous seeds she threw out of the open window, to land anywhere and grow haphazardly where they landed, while the third one she carefully attached a wax paper label to, indicating the pony trapped within. Her belly grumbled and gurgled away as the remains of Ocean bubbled into her watery nectar, swirling around to be absorbed into her gut, and later on into her hips. She would sleep well tonight - she always did with fresh pillows to lay on.
> Madame Bluebelle
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Withania trotted through her hallway to answer the front door. She wasn’t expecting anyone, but having had her questionable hotel open for a while now, she had grown accustomed to unexpected visitors. When she pulled the wooden door open, she was faced with a wall of periwinkle blue. A huge mare towered in front of her, her hair fashionably tied back in a crown. Without a word, she stared down at Withania expectantly. 

“Presenting Madame Bluebelle, mother of Prince Blueblood, Duke of the Canterlot Mountains!” pipped up a voice much to small and young to be the enormous mare.

Withania’s gaze moved down. And down. And further down until she saw a small donkey not much larger than a foal standing next to the mare, looking quite dignified in his pose as he introduced his mistress.

“Uh, hello,” replied Withania, trying not to stare. She was vaguely aware of Prince Blueblood as some kind of member of the royal family but had no idea that he had a mother - not that it would be strange, of course - or why his mother would be standing on her doorstep. “How can I help you, uh, my lady?”

“Oh she’s so rustic!” exclaimed Madame Bluebelle, looking down at Withania, “She’s even an earth pony - how authentic!”

“Madame Bluebelle has heard of your excellent reputation for specialist spa treatment,” explained the donkey, “And she wishes to book a weekend of your best service.”

Withania baulked at these words, sensing a horrible misunderstanding. But then as Madame Bluebelle turned slightly to judge the flowerbeds in the front garden, Withania noticed her earrings were a small silver knife and fork, and her cutiemark was a stylised fork with the outer prongs forming a horseshoe. The look on the donkey’s face seemed to convey that this was not a misunderstanding, and he was waiting for her response.

“W-welcome to the Hotel Nightshade…” she stammered, stepping back and motioning for her guests to enter. “Please, make your way to the sitting room and I’ll er… I’ll get… refreshments.”

Madame Bluebelle immediately swept past like a locomotive, filling the door frame as she passed through, and the donkey obediently trotted in after her.

“My name is Oliebol, Madam Bluebelle’s personal attendant, here is payment in advance, which I assure you will suffice. I’m sure you know that Madam Bluebelle is a lady of extreme class, but she is quite familiar with traditional and alternative treatments. Please, continue as you normally will.”

“This is perfect, Oliebol,” boomed Madam Bluebelle from the sitting room, “Wasn’t I saying how I wanted to get back in touch with nature, and just look at how much nature there is here. I feel like we’re still outside right now in this cottage, and our host looks like she grew up in the garden! How quaint!”

Withania raised her eyebrow at Oliebol. She was rather biased toward unicorns on a good day, but at the same time, she could tell by merely the size of the coin purse Oliebol was handing her that putting up with this client would be well worth the trouble. She took the purse into the kitchen and looked around for some means of catering for “royalty”. Some fresh water in a tall glass would have to do. Her eyes lingered on the form that she normally had her clients fill out before their stay, but something told her that she would be better off handling this customer on the fly, rather than trying to get her to fill out paperwork.

She returned to her sitting room to find Bluebelle sitting in her armchair - or rather, filling it like a cupcake that spilled over the edges of its paper wrapper. She’s not exactly rude, thought Withania to herself, Just presumptuous… but then I suppose I am a hotel now. She offered the water to Bluebelle, who picked up the glass with her magic, looking at the plain water as if it were a novelty. Withania put the tray to one side and pulled out the large gym mat from under the sofa. Normally at this point she would be flirting with the client to make them feel more comfortable, but that seemed wildly inappropriate. This wasn’t so much a sexual encounter, this aristocratic mare was literally expecting some kind of trendy spa treatment. Well… that’s exactly what I’ll give her then, concluded Withania, Turning into a plant and then back into a pony is pretty relaxing as far as I’m concerned, I’m sure it’s good enough for a unicorn.

“Thank you once again for choosing my uh… resort. If you’d like to lay down on your back here, we’ll get started. Uh, Oliebol, are you… joining us?”

“Oh don’t mind little Olie, he won’t get in the way,” said Bluebelle, lumbering to her hooves and arranging herself on the mat. Considering the way she carried herself, she made laying down on her back seem somehow quite dignified. Withania had already decided on hind legs first, and seeing Oliebol sit politely on the end of the sofa, she decided that getting on with it was the best course of action.

Madame Bluebelle certainly took care of herself. Despite her enormous size, she was clean and smelled quite fresh. Her hooves were probably cleaner than the glass Withania had served her with. She gently guided Bluebelle’s hind hooves together and stretched the legs out before opening her mouth and feeding them into her throat. The start would be easy enough, she knew, but part of her was daunted by the size of the mare she now had to try and swallow. It would probably be easier if this was the kind of kinky encounter she was used to, but doing it with a straight face was significantly harder.

“Did you see Luna this morning?” said Bluebelle, speaking to Oliebol conversationally as Withania slowly worked her jaws up the periwinkle hocks. “I’ve said before that she needs to spend time in a spa herself to clear up those crow’s feet, but it appears she hasn’t taken my advice on board.”

Withania was glad that she wouldn’t be able to speak for the duration of this exercise since it saved her from having to make small talk. She focused her mind on the task at hand, vision filled with the vast thighs of a mare at least twice her size. As strange as this was, Madame Bluebelle triggered her taste buds just fine, and the idea of devouring a pony this big was beginning to excite her. She swallowed to settle her throat, and determinedly pushed forward, feeling her mouth stretch wide as she began to engulf Bluebelle. She felt like some kind of kook, providing a crazy quack medicinal session.

“I’m sure Luna has a lot on her mind,” replied Oliebol. “How do you feel, my lady? It must be quite strange being on the other side of the gate for once…”

Withania’s ear twitched at this. So Madame Bluebelle did know what she was getting into… yet somehow Withania didn’t feel the least like the dominatrix in this scene.

“It’s a little slimy, but the sense of compression is delightful, it reminds me of when I could fit into stockings! Imagine how I looked in stockings, Oliebol, surprising as it may be, I looked even more stunning than I usually do. Ms Nightshade, don’t wait on my account, feel free to give it your all!”

Withania already was giving it her all. The sense of carnal pleasure was rushing through her, relaxing her muscles to ease over Bluebelle’s vast hips, but where she would normally lift her prey up and gulp them down, she realised that lifting Bluebelle was quite beyond her, and her hind legs would only be able to push for so long before she couldn’t gain enough purchase. Still, she closed her eyes and worked her throat muscles, letting them pull her body along and over the richly conditioned fur coat of Madame Bluebelle.

“Would you like a hoof there, Miss Nightshade?” asked Oliebol, hopping off the sofa. Withania couldn’t reply either way, but the little donkey had already walked around and was using his forelegs to massage the flanks of his mistress, looking quite practised. The movement eased the body of Bluebelle under Withania’s snout, and she had to admit, made the task much easier. She worked herself up to her client’s midriff, before coming to a stop, as she couldn’t get her lower jaw under Bluebelle’s vast back that was pressing into the floor mat. “My lady, I think you’ll be more comfortable if you sit up now!”

Withania squeaked as she heard this, but before she could make any other indication, Madame Bluebelle, heaved herself upwards, lifting her weight up with her forelegs. With her lower half already wrapped up in Withania’s comically bulging torso, the rest of her began to press into Withania as she righted herself. Oliebol dutifully moved around with his prodding and kneading hooves, settling Withania’s helpless body so that she moved up to Bluebelle’s shoulders. The widest sections were over now, and Withania could only thank the stars that she didn’t breathe through her lungs these days, she felt like a balloon stretched out and being pulled taut. Most of Bluebelle’s mass was in her stomach, but the size difference between them meant that rather than submerging her prey in a bath of nectar, Withania was merely creating an insulating layer around the big mare.

“Ah yes that is better,” remarked Bluebelle, “I feel better already! What is it they say about you, Ms Nighshade? You use plant nectar or some such? I can feel it working into my skin, it’s quite therapeutic.” Withania made a muffled response that no one could understand, and then determinedly swallowed a few times, climbing up to Bluebelle’s neck. “Well, this seems like the beginning, see you on the other side, Oliebol!” she said cheerfully.

Withania forced her mouth open a little further and swallowed Bluebelle’s head with two decisive gulps. And then sighed with relief. “Whew! Uh, my apologies for the delay, my lady. I hope you’re comfortable, and we’ll start the next stage. If you feel a little tight in there, don’t worry it’ll pass very soon!”

An enormous lumpy mound of green filled the sitting room, a huge belly with a relatively small Withania attached to one side of it, looking more than slightly unsure as to what exactly to do next. A belly-bed didn’t cover this one, she was pinned to the side of her own gut, unable to move at all.

“Oh I can cope!” came Bluebelle’s booming voice, albeit slightly muffled from inside Withania, “Let me just get comfortable, and you can continue!”

Withania yelped as her entire body lurched. Normally her prey could slide around inside her, but Bluebelle was bigger than Withania was, and when she moved, Withania moved. Madame Bluebelle twisted around and lay down on her front, and before Withania could say anything to object, the massive mound of her stomach lumbered up over her head - and rolled right over her.

“Ah that’s better,” said Bluebelle conversationally. Withania’s body was pinned entirely under her own huge belly, with only her head and shoulders sticking out helplessly. The weight on top was immense and she didn’t stand a chance of freeing herself.

Although on the plus side, she didn’t exactly need to. All she needed to do now was wait for Madame Bluebelle to dissolve into nectar, and while this was going to be a little harder as there was a great deal more pony to dissolve than usual, Withania didn’t have anywhere else to be.

“Are you okay, Miss Nightshade?” asked Oliebol, looking concerned.

“Aha, yes, quite fine, don’t worry about me!” she replied. She couldn’t admit it, but she was quite enjoying the feeling of being pinned, and being under her own weighted belly was… curiously exciting. “This might take a bit longer than I normally do though… uh… feel free to help yourself to the kitchen if you get bored…”

“Oh no need to stand on ceremony,” said Oliebol, waving her words away, “I’m normally the one on the inside. Madame Bluebelle is a lady of fine taste, and I’m usually honoured to indulge her.”

“Huh… Fair enough. Umm, so yes, my lady,” said Withania, addressing the massive belly pinning her flat against her sitting room floor, “I’ll now conduct a massage that will, umm, make you feel like clear water, and you’ll awaken from the treatment feeling as fresh as a daisy!”

“How exciting!” said Bluebelle, “I can feel myself becoming soft already, it’s delightful!”

With any luck, my body will react and start producing more nectar, fast, thought Withania to herself, Then I won’t have to worry about socialising with her…

“Oliebol, I don’t suppose you brought any snacks? I feel quite peckish. Melting inside an earth pony is working up my appetite.”

“Regrettably, I didn’t think to pack any.”

“No matter… Oliebol, please join me in here, I’m sure you’ll suffice until tomorrow.”

“Wait, what?” said Withania. Bluebelle was about to get digested, less than an hour from now and she wouldn’t have a body left to be hungry. But before she could register any protest, Oliebol positioned himself like a crouching cat in front of Withania’s face and pushed his muzzle into her mouth. “Mmmmpf!”

“I’ll be with you shortly, my lady!” he grunted, pushing forward as Withania’s mouth popped open over his head. There was nothing she could do to stop him, and to her astonishment, the little donkey wriggled and pushed, moving through her mouth and throat like an eel. Withania wasn’t sure if she could fit anymore, but then she felt the oddest sensation as Madam Bluebelle opened her mouth inside Withania’s stomach, and along with a gulp of dissolving nectar, gobbled up Oliebol as he passed through Withania’s throat. She could feel Bluebelle’s neck pulse and work the little donkey down into her own hungry belly. Her belly was eating things. And pinning her down. However, at least she was effectively alone in the room now.

“Mmm,” moaned Bluebelle, her voice rumbling through Withania, “Delectable as always. Don’t forget to remind me to have you reformed, Oliebol, I’m bound to forget otherwise…”

If Oliebol replied to this, Withania certainly didn’t hear him, but she could feel the pressure in her belly alleviating as Bluebelle’s immense structure began to soften.

“Oooh,” came Bluebelle’s voice again, “Something’s really happening now, I feel like I’m squashing together… it’s all very wet in here now, but it tastes lovely… I could drink this massage potion by the pint I daresay…”

Withania didn’t respond, relaxing with her legs starfished out under her mumbling belly. Although Madame Bluebelle hadn’t been completely immersed in her nectar, it had still worked into her body and the lumpy shape of the great mare began to smooth out into even curves, the vibrato voice being replaced by liquid gurgles and trapped bubbles. The huge mound of Withania’s belly sagged and flopped over her like a huge water balloon, and she was content to rest and absorb energy and nutrients from the soup that Bluebelle was turning into.

Her eyes snapped open again, and the sunlight had shifted all the way across the room. Glancing up, Withania saw that her belly appeared to have diminished significantly. It wasn’t exactly small, but she fancied her ability to right herself and stand up at least.

I bet I’m huge… that massive mare and her donkey assistant… I should’ve turned them away! she thought to herself. The room seemed smaller somehow, and to her surprise, her hips weren’t as large as she expected. Definitely looking like she’d put someone away there, but she’d expected bigger. Withania lumbered into the hallway, and then caught her reflection in the mirror.

The reason why she didn’t seem too pudgy, was that she’d become as large as Madam Bluebelle herself had been. Her hips and belly were as rounded as the big mare she’d eaten but were still proportional to her overall size. And suddenly the doors in her house seemed awfully small. It was going to be a lot of mass to work off in the garden. Better to get started right away by planting the seed for Madam Bluebelle, she figured, feeling the familiar nudge in her nethers.

Much to her surprise, a smaller seed followed a larger one, which she realised must be Oliebol. Madame Bluebelle had already melted enough when she devoured Oliebol that the little donkey had ended up getting digested by Withania - not his mistress.

“Why do I get the feeling that you have to put up with this a little too often…” she said to the smaller seed on the frog of her hoof. “You know what Oliebol, I’ll give you the sunny patch. Trust me, it’s the best spot in the garden.”

Being large certainly had an advantage, Withania felt like a dragoness as she turned the earth around the empty plots, and lugged the watering can over the other hotel guests, but everything also felt dainty and fragile, especially the stack of clay flower pots that her rump knocked off of her workbench in the greenhouse. Sadly her larger stature wore off before her extra pudge did, and by the next day, a decidedly chubby, but very huggable Withania waited next to the maturing flower for Madam Bluebelle.

The noblemare was so large that even the hardy Tegmen flower was completely unable to support her weight, and had bent in half to grow on the ground next to its stem, the huge bud of periwinkle blue looking like the oddest pumpkin Withania had ever seen. As it began to unfurl, Withania busied herself with trimming a nearby shrub, so as not to be caught staring. From the corner of her eye, however, she grinned as the flower bloomed to reveal Madam Bluebelle on her back, sprawled out and drooling quite uncouthly. As the sun hit her face, Madam Bluebelle snorted and opened her eyes.

“Unnnng, heavens above I’ve slept outside… in a flowerbed no less…”

Uh oh… thought Withania, sensing a meltdown over a little dirt in a pristine coat.

“How rustic! This has been every bit as au naturel as I was told! Oliebol? Oliebol!”

“Good morning, my lady, I’m afraid Oliebol hasn’t emerged yet. You ate him during your treatment, but fortunately, I was able to transform him as well. He’s in the corner, there,” said Withania, pointing with her sheers toward a tall, slender flower with milk-chocolate brown petals. Oliebol’s bud was quite the looker, in her opinion, and she hoped that the little donkey had enjoyed a rest of his own.

“Oh, how exquisite,” exclaimed Bluebelle, walking over to her assistant. “Even something as plain as you can look beautiful in surroundings like this, Oliebol. You’re always here when I need you.”

And with that, she licked her lips and plunged her mouth over the flower bud in one go with an audible gulp, leaving Withania sitting jaw agape, sheers in hoof.
> Pinkie & Rainbow
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Are you sure this is the right place? It doesn’t look like a hotel,” muttered Rainbow Dash, looking up at the house Pinkie Pie had brought her to. It was a nice enough house. The garden was rich and vibrant, without the soul-less precision of a sculpted palace garden, and the house was small and cosy looking. But it didn’t look like a bed and breakfast, let alone a hotel.

“I told you, this isn’t a normal hotel!” said Pinkie Pie, nudging her friend with an exaggerated wink. “We’re going on a special journey together into a pony, and sleeping as plants!” Rainbow opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the front door being opened by Withania.

“Oh, good afternoon!” she said, delighted to see such recognisable faces at her door, but uncertain as to why. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“We’re checking in!” said Pinkie enthusiastically, “It’s my birthday this week, and Rainbow said she’d treat me to a weekend at the place of my choice - and having heard about your little operation here I absolutely had to come and try it out for myself!”

Withania’s face flicked to surprise, but quickly to acceptance. It didn’t take much thought to realise that nothing remained a secret to Pinkie Pie, and she was quite bonkers enough to want to try Withania’s services out herself.

“Alright, if you’d like to follow me into the kitchen, I need you to fill out my sign-in sheet, and then we can get started whenever you’re ready. This way-”

“Already done!” said Pinkie, digging one hoof into the vast cloud of her mane and pulling out a two folded sheets of paper. Withania opened them and skimmed the text.

“I… I don’t hand these out…”

“That’s okay it was no trouble to get a couple myself! That’s Rainbow Dash and me all covered and signed for!” said Pinkie.

“I didn’t sign mine…” said Rainbow, looking concerned about paperwork.

“Pinkie Pie’s gotcha covered! I signed for you, Rainbow.”

“I’m not sure if you’re allowed to do that, Pinkie… Is she allowed to do that?” asked Rainbow Dash.

“Uh… look, as long as everyone’s consenting then that’s good enough for me… You do know what I do here, right?”

Rainbow blushed slightly, looking away and seeing the various plants and jars around the hallway. “Y-yes… But I promised Pinkie that we could do what she wanted. I can handle this! I’ll do it!”

“That’s the spirit! Look at Withania’s rump!” cheered Pinkie, suddenly moving alarmingly fast and hugging Withania’s curvy hips, “How many ponies have you got stocked up there. Withi? Can they hear us?”

“Aah! Uh… just the one today, and no, they can’t hear you. They can probably feel you squeezing though… Um, let’s get started then!” She lead them back into the living room and pulled out her floor mat in a practised motion. “Rainbow, perhaps you’d like to go first, and then Pinkie will be here as well to make you feel more comfortable?”

Rainbow lay down on her belly self-consciously in the middle of the mat as Withania assumed her normal position at the end of it. She winced as Withania picked up her hooves, but Withania quickly noticed this and changed her hold. It wasn’t the first time she’d encountered a pony who was a little sensitive at the hoof, although some liked that. She couldn’t see Rainbow’s face from this angle, but Pinkie could more easily see her friend, and that seemed right for this scene.

“Wooah, ok this feels weird!” gasped Rainbow as she felt Withania’s throat clench around her hind legs. Withania paused, waiting to see if Rainbow was going to bail, but Pinkie Pie clutched her friend’s cheeks in a tight squeeze.

“And it’s only getting weirder from here!” she whispered, giving a wink to signal Withania that she could keep going. Rainbow wasn’t struggling past a gentle wriggle of her legs, just testing if she was truly stuck or not. Withania quickly answered that question by taking an expert large-size gulp, progressing straight up the pegasus’ thighs and to her toned rump. Rainbow shivered and squeaked, sensing the warm wetness of Withania’s mouth at her nethers. Withania hadn’t done this deliberately, but when swallowing a pony hindlegs-first, it was more or less unavoidable.

Pinkie took this cue to lean in and press her lips into Rainbow’s for a deep sensual kiss, clearly aiming to start the foreplay as soon as possible. Withania could tell exactly where this was likely to go, and her own nethers twitched in response. She began to coordinate with Pinkie, gently taking in inch after inch of the pegasus in time with each of Pinkie’s kisses, so that Rainbow felt herself being both pushed into Withania, and pulled in by her swallows at the same time. Curiously, Rainbow was falling into a surprisingly docile state, folding her wings in time for Withania to gulp down her cutie marks and start working up her back and belly.

“How’s it feel, Dashie?” asked Pinkie Pie. Her voice had gone slightly softer, almost into the sensual ranges. “You’re being swallowed whole, and then Withania’s going to eat me, and both of us will be squished together inside her belly like a jelly doughnut!”

Withania leaned back so that her throat could straighten, and Rainbow slipped slowly down until Withania’s lips closed around her neck. Pinkie sauntered up and put her forelegs around Withania, pulling her close and kissing Rainbow again. Her forehooves moved down Withania’s body, feeling out the bulge of her belly and pressing in to find the outline of Rainbow trapped inside.

“This… this is sorta nice,” admitted Rainbow, “Uh… thanks for being gentle, Withania, we’re about done now right?”

“Nope!” answered Pinkie, “I’ll be seeing you in just a minute!” And with that, she gave Rainbow one last kiss before putting her forehoof on the blue snout and gently pushing it into Withania’s open mouth. Withania swallowed, the bulge of Rainbow’s head moving down her throat and vanishing into the huge mound of her belly. “This is amazing!” continued Pinkie, administering more attention to Withania’s round body.

“Whew, well done, Rainbow,” said Withania, “Scary bit’s over! Pinkie, heads or tails?”

“Heads for me!” said Pinkie Pie, grabbing Withania’s jaws and hinging them open again to stuff herself inside. Withania yelped, but was quickly muffled as Pinkie shoved her entire head in. Before Withania could figure out how she was going to tackle her second course, Pinkie climbed onto the bulging shelf of belly, and used it as a foothold to push herself into poor Withania’s stretching jaws.

“Pinkie!” came Rainbow’s muffled voice from inside Withania, “Careful you’ll make her choke! And also you’re stepping on my head, and I’m up to my neck in this sweet watery stuff!”

“I’ll be there soon!” came Pinkie’s equally muffled reply from somewhere in Withania’s esophagus.

Withania herself decided to steady herself as best she could and let Pinkie get on with climbing into her belly. She felt like a stretchy sack, with one pony already anchoring her to the floor and another unceremoniously tumbling down her neck. Pinkie was up to her flanks, and here she became stuck. Unable to push anymore, and unable to wriggle her own padded rump through Withania’s mouth, she was simply kicking the air. Withania balanced herself and reached up with her forelegs, sinking her hooves into Pinkie’s soft and plush cheeks to give them a shove.

“Ulp!” she gulped, feeling the heavy mass of earth pony drop into her belly to tangle up with the pegasus already there. She flopped onto her back in exhaustion, letting the huge mound of her stomach flop on top of her. It quivered and bumped, probably more with Pinkie Pie than Rainbow Dash.

“Hey Rainbow! Fancy seeing you in here!” a muffled voice murmured.

“Yeah,” replied the sarcastic tones of Rainbow Dash, “Fancy that. Can you move? Your tail’s in my face…”

“Hold on…”

Pinkie Pie wriggled her body expertly in the soft and slippery confines of Withania’s stomach, the sweet and slightly sticky nectar rapidly basting her coat all over. She found what she was looking for, and nuzzled her way between Rainbow’s thighs to find her friend’s marehood.

“Pinkie! That’s not what I mea- ahhh!”

Rainbow clenched up around Pinkie’s head, hugging the rest of her friend instinctively. The watery fluid was filling up all the gaps around their entangled body, bathing them like a water balloon filling up at a tap. While she was distracted by Pinkie’s tongue working her velvet folds apart, the liquid passed over her head entirely, forcing her to start gulping down mouthfuls. She lasted for a few seconds of this until she choked reflexively, and her lungs flooded with the stuff.

Pinkie Pie wasn’t far behind, but she seemed to already know what was going to happen here, and just sucked in as much as she could right away without a second thought. And then immediately began to eat out her friend again. The plush walls of Withania’s belly sealed around them, squeezing and kneading as the digesting nectar marinaded into their bodies.

Rainbow took deep lungfuls of the oxygenated nectar, feeling it swirl around inside her at the same time that Pinkie seemed to be breathing it into her pussy. The feeling of being trapped in place by soft fleshy walls of the stomach and Pinkie’s own soft mass, instead of by straps or rope, was incredibly sensual - she instinctively found her way between the pudgy thighs of Pinkie and began to lap away in sympathy. The texture was lush, while the taste was sweetened by the ever-present nectar.

As the two ponies ate each other out, their bodies slowly turned softer and softer, melding together into a spherical blob of pinkie and blue that interlocked in the middle. When they both finally climaxed, their mutual jerking movements pressed into each other, mixing the colours like oil paint in water. Their minds swam with the high of their stimulation mixed with the sensation of their bodies melting into a liquid that mixed together with the nectar dissolving them. Eventually, there was nothing left but their own pleasure, the two mares unsure where one ended and the other began, each feeling enveloped by the other, while both feeling wrapped up and contained in the sweet bath of Withania’s belly.

There was no doubt in Withania’s mind that both her clients had immensely enjoyed their “check-in”, which was a relief to her given their high-profile in Ponyville - and Equestria alike. She waited patiently until she was certain they were both no longer aware of the world in a literal sense anymore and rolled onto her front, belly gurgling as the pony soup inside her sloshed around.

“Sleep well, Rainbow and Pinkie,” she said, giving her belly a press with one hoof. It was a little too early for bed, but she was far too big around the middle to do any gardening. Instead, she trundled out to the greenhouse and spent some time watering and maintaining a few other guests currently growing in pots. The motion would help mix up her stomach even further, only adding to her new guests’ comfort.

Morning came and Withania was sat out in the garden on a wooden tray. She stood up and checked behind her. “Huh… only one seed today? Someone’s taking their time…”

She rinsed the seed under the tap and inspected it. It was on the large side, but other than that she couldn’t decide if it was Rainbow Dash or Pinkie Pie. Most of the time she could tell on a hunch, from the size, weight, and feel of one of her seeds who was hibernating inside - but this time she was stumped. Not that it mattered, it would be one of the girls from last night, and the other would probably follow soon. She decided to plant the seed right away, just in case it was a slow-grower.

The weather forecast this weekend was perfect for Withania’s hotel - occasional showers made for ripe growing conditions. Under the steady patter of raindrops, the seed took root and consciously broke the surface of the tilled soil around it. Over the course of the next day it reached up, growing tall and slender - so much so that Withania opted to place a cane in the ground for it to gently wrap itself around. The leaves seemed to have a unique rainbow sheen to them, green at first glance, but with a ripple of colour under the sunlight. Withania assumed that it must be Rainbow Dash, until she came back out the next day to find a lusciously soft pink flower bud, nearly big enough for an alicorn. Its petals also had the same colourful reflection, but the main colour of pink matched Pinkie Pie’s coat perfectly.

Inside the bud, a pony was forming. They dreamed about parties and smiles, but also of flight and the clear skies. Their entrapment within the plant was soothing, yet they didn’t feel alone or cutoff - something or someone was with them, and echo in the back of their mind, a second thought, or a guiding light. With no fear, she gazed up at the bright sun as her petals bloomed open around her.

“Good morning!” said a voice from below, “Did you sleep well?”

The pony looked down over the pink petals around her to see Withania standing a few feet below, with a set of folding steps she’d set up in front of the flower. As Withania saw the occupant, her expression quickly changed to surprise and amazement - but also the unmistakable flash of concern.

“We… I… Great, thank you…” said the pony, gently stepping down onto the flagstones with a flutter of wings. She saw her own reflection in the glass walls of the greenhouse and stared. Her coat was a light lavender hue, while her mane hung in waves that looked moments away from springing into curls, but never did. Both her mane and tail were pastel pink at the base, but radiated stripes of orange and then red in one direction, and yellow followed by green in the other.

“Umm, Rainbow?” asked Withania, making a wild guess and gauging the response, “Or Pinkie?”

“I’m Pinkie, duh!” replied the pegasus, “Wait… no I’m Rainbow Dash, silly!”

“I… I think you’re both…” said Withania, realising what had happened. Or at least, figuring out what had happened. She’d never seen this before. “You both must’ve mixed together so much that you’ve merged and regrown as a single pony - are you both okay?”

“I feel- I mean, We feel great! I’ve got wings, I feel like I have to fly! I’ve got so much energy, and it’s a new day! Rainbow Pie is ready to take on the world! Or Pinkie Dash?”

The pegasus seemed to be confused as to who they were, but definitely seemed to be falling into the first person identification, mused Withania. They seemed to be a total mix of the two ponies she’d ingested two days ago, now inseparable and thinking as one.

“I think I want to call myself Sprinkle Rain…” said the fusion, “It’s cute, but also has a cool ring to it. What’s wrong, Withania? Are you ok?”

Withania blinked as she thought hard about what was happening. “Me? I’m more worried about you… I… You should be two ponies… I have to fix this!”

“Well maybe… but we could have some fun first! I… I love this, I’ve never been so close to either Pinkie or Rainbow before! She right here with me, she is me!”

Withania had to admit that she was excited about the concept they’d discovered. This was an entirely new line of investigation… she had couples who were growing as intertwined plants, sharing the same plant pot, but this was on a whole new level. Imagine being able to combine two ponies into a single being, to let them experience each other’s thoughts and feelings as a single mind!

“This is pretty amazing I’ll admit… but I can’t leave you like this. If I can figure out how to split you apart again, I promise we can do it all again anytime you like - but I don’t feel right while we don’t fully know how to reverse this.”

“How would you reverse this?” asked Sprinkle Rain, “I mean, I’m one pony… it’s not like you can just cut me in half.”

“Well, not while you’re a pony, no… I’ll need to turn you into a plant again. We’ll prune you into two plants - don’t worry that won’t hurt - and then I’ll have to breed you apart over several generations of regrowth until I’ve got a Pinkie Pie plant and a Rainbow Dash plant. I could probably do it in a week or so if I put my mind to it, quick enough that we don’t need to tell anyone that I fused two elements of harmony together in a kinky retreat session…”

“Ok ok,” cut in Sprinkle, eyes up at the sky again, “Just, I want to enjoy this first, hold on a sec I’ll be right back!”

Before Withania could reply, Sprinkle Rain launched herself into the air, pumping her wings to gain as much speed as she could. The ground fell away, replaced with the rush of air and the wind in her mane. Half of her felt the familiar freedom and thrill of flight, while the other half exploded with excitement as if it were the first time she’d ever flown. She flew with the knowledge and skill of a Wonderbolts veteran, but the wonder and excitement of a filly having left the ground for the first time. She soared around southern Ponyville, wingtips flittering as she banked, and then feeling weightless as she caught an updraft from the nearby forest and glided on it.

“Well, Sprinkle Rain, what do I think?” she said to herself. She knew in the back of her mind that this couldn’t be permanent. But Withania said a week minimum… she’d miss Pinkie Pie’s birthday party. Everyone would miss the party. Or there’d be a party with no Pinkie Pie or Rainbow Dash there. “What if… what if I go to the party. It’d be awesome! Think of the look on Twilight’s face when she sees me! We could tell them how this happened… Maybe Withania could fuse more of us together!”

She looked down again, remembering that she’d left Withania in her garden. Surely if Withania could split her, she could do that any time...

Taking aim for the glint of the large greenhouse on the end of Ponyville’s southmost road, she turned to head back, faster than falling speed. Her heart thudded with adrenaline, but her brain and her muscles knew exactly what they were doing, and with pinpoint accuracy, she thudded down exactly where she’d started in front of a slack-jawed Withania.

“Alright, are you ready? We should probably get on with it, since I don’t know how long this is going to take…” said Withania.

“Well, I was thinking,” said Sprinkle Rain, “I don’t want to miss my party that starts tomorrow. I’m going to go as I am. It’ll be fine, I’ll explain everything, you won’t get into trouble! And then, later on, I’ll come back and we can do… your plant stuff…”

Withania pursed her lips in concern. She didn’t really want Sprinkle Rain to leave the garden, but she couldn’t force her to stay. Plus, it made little difference if she unfused her now or next week anyway - there wasn’t really any harm in doing it her way.

“Alright then. But don’t leave it too long okay? I really don’t know what the long term effects of this could be. Make the most of it and then come right back. When do you think you’ll be ready?”

Sprinkle Rain turned and crouched again, preparing to take off. “Uhh… maybe a week, possibly a month... I’ll get back to you!”

There was a swish and a draft that blew Withania’s mane askew, and Sprinkle Rain was gone again, already a hundred feet into the sky.
> Twinkletail
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twinkletail sat at the kitchen table of Hotel Nightshade, staring at the form in front of her. She held a pencil with her magic and ticked a checkbox here and there, while subconsciously holding her yellow-tipped tail in her hooves.

It had taken her quite a while to work up the courage to come here at all, and now despite how nice and gentle Withania seemed to be, she felt even more nervous at the idea of admitting what things she wanted to indulge in during her stay.

“Don’t worry about getting it perfect,” said Withania, arriving back in the kitchen after preparing the living room space as usual. “This is more of a guideline really, mostly to figure out your main interests and any no-go areas. I can usually figure out the minor details as we go, but it’s important for me to know your boundaries.”

Twinkletail nodded nervously and signed the bottom of the form. It was a pretty simple form really, not much  but more clarification that she had consented to “stay at the hotel”. Withania guided her back to the living room, where the spongy gym mat was already in place. Twinkle sat down in the middle, and Withania sat in front of her while reading through her form. Her face remained passive, not reacting to any of the choices Twinkle had picked.

“Okay, so you’re going for the ‘soft’ experience, no hurry on regrowing, and then we’ll see where things go from there. Let’s get started!” Withania leaned forward to place a hoof on Twinkle’s flank in order to establish contact, but Twinkle twitched away reflexively.

“Ah! I’m sorry, I’m, I’m just a little embarrassed. I’ve never done anything like this before, at all…”

“That’s okay!” said Withania kindly, “Everyone has their first time, and I think a lot of people - certainly myself - felt very self-conscious when they did it. Are you ready?”

Twinkletail nodded, and Withania started again. She placed her hoof on Twinkle’s hip, moving slowly and letting her get used to the touch, and pulled her a little closer. Next, she leaned in to give her a gentle kiss, just a peck, a brush of the lips - but Twinkle twisted her head as if a fly had passed in front of her eyes. She immediately scrunched up her face in frustration.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” asked Withania with concern. “It’s not too late to back out, and I won’t mind at all. You can always come back another time. Or we can just have tea together if you want?”

“No, no, I really want to do this, I- I just can’t get my nerves down! I’m sorry, Withania, I’m messing this up!”

Withania stopped her by placing a hoof on her nose. “It’s fine, Twinkletail, you’re safe with me, just be yourself. How about we try something different? My breath carries a pollen that relaxes a pony’s mind and… makes them more flexible to my whims. Perhaps we could use a little to help get you in the mood? It won’t take you out of the moment, I promise, it just helps relax you.”

Twinkle looked down nervously. She’d passed on the “Hypnosis” tickbox on the form, but now Withania made it seem quite appealing - something to take away her nerves, and help her enjoy the moment better. She nodded at Withania, indicating her consent.

Normally, Withania didn’t breathe at all, since her plant-nature didn’t require it - but now she took a deep breath, stirring up the pollen that grew in her lungs and gently blew a stream of air at Twinkletail. Her guest blinked and swayed slightly as the alluring scent immediately hit her. Withania followed this up with a gentle kiss to the lips, still breathing her intoxicating aroma into Twinkle’s mouth. This time, her guest did not back away, staying still and allowing Withania to touch her tenderly.

Withania pulled away to check the results. Twinkle’s eyes were half-closed looking dreamy and content, and then suddenly concerned that the source of this sudden happiness had moved away from her. She leaned into Withania and clumsily kissed her back, picking up her hooves and placing them on her hips again. Withania smiled, only too happy to oblige, and drew Twinkletail into an embrace. She slowly steered one hoof around Twinkle’s thigh, drawing a line from her cutie mark around to her belly button, and then slowly moved down, until she found the soft and smooth folds of Twinkle’s marehood.

Twinkle moaned quietly at Withania’s touch, letting herself be kissed and touched, the tension leaving her body as she surrendered to her hostess. Withania drew circles with the tip of her hoof around Twinkle’s folds, gently arousing her until her glistening clit was exposed, before giving it a gentle press. Twinkle shuddered, unable to provide any useful support to their kissing other than smiling in sleepy happiness.

“There we go, Twinkle,” whispered Withania, “That’s nicer, isn’t it? You’re much more comfortable now, although not as comfortable as you will be soon. Why don’t you have a feel of your own? See where you’re staying tonight?”

She guided Twinkle’s hoofs to her own plush hips, and let them press into her soft nightshade cutie marks, rich and cushioned by indulging on countless ponies. Soon Twinkletail would be part of that padding, beyond reach and wallowing in the overwhelming bliss of being squashed and stretched as pudge that moved when Withania walked, pressed when she sat down, or rippled when she gave her hip a judicious slap to keep her guests on edge.

Twinkletail sighed with pleasure, reaching up to Withania’s mouth to kiss her again. Withania responded by opening her mouth suddenly, so that Twinkle’s snout nuzzled against a green tongue, slick with sweet golden nectar, before slowly closing her lips again so that Twinkle was pushed back out. The unicorn blinked and licked her nose, tasting the alluring smell that was filling her brain and drowning out her sense of self-preservation. She reached up again, trying to nuzzle her nose between those lips once more.

Withania playfully avoided her, as if she were a dog trying to lick her face, and then relaxed, opening her mouth wide once again, so that Twinkletail could see down into that green abyss. Without a word, Twinkle jutted her head, horn first, into Withania’s throat. The green walls slipped around her face and enclosed her head, plunging her into a hot, moist darkness that flooded her lungs with more of the scent she was craving, so much that she wanted nothing more than to press on into the depths of Withania’s gentle throat and down the passage beyond.

Withania didn’t leave the choice to her, and tightened her embrace as she pushed her head down over Twinkle’s shoulders, standing up on her hind legs to gain a better angle. Her esophagus greedily accepted the unicorn, pulsing and contracting in waves that dragged Twinkle’s body deeper inside until Withania’s lips reached her flanks.

Twinkletail gave a long moan of pleasure as she was wrapped up within plush walls that squeezed and pulsated around her. She’d been paralysed by her nerves, but then something happened, her nose caught on a scent or taste, and suddenly she had forgotten what she was concerned about. The green pony before her was so soft and gentle, and every touch from her hooves made Twinkle feel delightful. The closer they got, the better she felt, as if her own submission was making her mistress happy, which in turn rewarded her even further. Like a deliciously hot shower, the wet warmth of Withania’s throat engulfed her, pinning her forelegs to her sides, and now she could only quiver with delight as she felt herself being gently chewed and sucked on by the sweet flesh inside of the plant pony.

Tilting her head back, Withania sighed with pleasure, blowing the last cloud of her pollen breath out of her nostrils, the almost invisible dots landing like seasoning on the curvy rump of Twinkletail sticking out her mouth. She waited for the pony to settle in her throat, and then placed her forehoof on the exposed and glistening clit, firmly pushing Twinkle into her esophagus. A few more gulps and Twinkle’s weight broke past the restriction of Withania’s throat, and the unicorn dropped with a plop into a waiting bellyful of nectar.

“A unicorn ensnared by a common earth pony,” she said, giving her rounded belly a judicious rub, “Or a plant, depending on your point of view. Delicious either way. You’ve been swallowed up, Twinkletail, you’re trapped inside me until there’s nothing left of you now. I’m going to take you to bed, and when we wake up, you’ll be a lovely soft layer on my hips. I’ll be testing to make sure you’re fit for purpose too…”

Twinkletail had entered a different world, one where Withania was all around her, a duvet of comfort that she couldn’t escape from even if she wanted to. The influence of Withania’s pollen breath was diluted here, and her mind cleared a little. The faint sense of trepidation returned, but she realised that it was too late to turn back now. She tried to stretch out, feeling the walls of Withania’s belly around her stretch around her, before pushing her back into a curl. Withania was pressing her stomach from the outside in a rolling motion, as if she were ironing out creases. Twinkletail felt it like she was being petted, and felt the nectar she was submerged in flow in and out of her lungs. It was the most intimate sensation she’d ever experienced, her body stimulated and soothed in equal measure, a blend of lewd pleasure and peaceful relaxation. Despite how unnatural the entire situation was, everything felt somehow right, as if this was nature’s intention. Perhaps it was, with Withania’s clear specialisation for this.

Twinkle watched her hooves become rounded, as if she’d spent too long in the bath, until they began to melt off entirely, her hind legs soon following suit, and her main and tail long since dissolved into golden liquid. Over the course of hours, the compression of Withania’s stomach and nectar penned her in and turned her body into soup, the sensation of constriction was slowly replaced by a weight bearing down on her. Withania fell still as she rested or slept, and the sounds of her body faded from Twinkle’s mind. Her senses were replaced by an omnipresent sensation self, the weight changing from pressing into smothering comfort. She couldn’t move, but neither did she feel stiff or restrained. She was part of something now, held in place, holding everything in place.

When Twinkletail felt Withania move again, it was as if her entire being had become malleable, she was as soft as sponge, but smooth and curved. She was stretched and squashed as Withania got up and flexed her joints, before a steady rhythm of Withania’s walk took over. Twinkle could neither see nor know what Withania was doing, but she could feel, to her very core, the blissful and sensual kneading of being a layer of chub upon the pony’s rump, moving and flexing as Withania pottered around her house. The feeling was so calm and peaceful, but at the same time it tugged deep into Twinkle’s libido, stimulating her more than she dreamed possible.

For two days, Withania smiled to herself as she felt the warm pleasure of Twinkletail bobbing and flexing as part of her hips. She went about her routine as usual, cleaning her house, moving the guests around to different areas, watering the garden - and other guests. But every time she stooped to pick something up, or reached up to the top shelf, she stretched. She deliberately extended herself to inflict as much movement onto her flanks as possible. She didn’t need to imagine how much Twinkle would be simmering in indulgence, the tingling warmth that her fuddled mind generated was all Withania needed.

Finally, it was time to rotate everyone around. Withania let her body continue its cycle, compressing her guest into a seed and taking it out to the garden. She had an idea for this unicorn, there was time for an experiment, and rather than plant the seed, she merely dropped it into a bucket of water, added some extra nutrients to give it a little assistance, and left Twinkletail to hibernate. With good soil and care, Withania could regrow a guest within a matter of hours. But drowned in water, Twinkletail’s seed first had to build a firm footing of roots. It took days before a stem finally ascended from the bucket, pale and lacking strength. Withania dutifully attached a cane to the side of the bucket, wrapping the drooping stem of Twinkletail around it for support.

Twinkletail missed the warmth and comfort of Withania’s rump, but as she became aware of her new form, she found new senses at her disposal. She still couldn’t see or hear, but the warmth of the sun and the cooling breeze touched her new body. She felt like a length of rope, twisted around something. She drank water from her lower extremities  and had leaves like fingers sticking out at regular intervals. Her sense of time had shifted, animals and sounds flittered around like sparks from a fire, while her plant body felt like it could move in real-time, reaching and growing up to the light.

Her first realisation that she was a plant was when Withania came back to check up on her. A presence that darted around her, turning her around to better catch the light, topping up her water. It could have been anyone, but some feeling that Twinkletail could sense in her roots was that this pony was Withania. Her gardener, coming to lavish attention on her and keep her in order.

“How’s my little waterlily today then?” asked Withania, assessing her. “I almost thought this wasn’t going to work, and your roots would just rot, but hey, sometimes I amaze even myself. I think you’ve done so well you deserve a little reward… Something I think you’ll recognise…”

Withania cupped the crown of the Twinkletail plant with her hoof. It hadn’t formed a bud yet, but there was a swirl of leaves at the tip of the stem, ready for when a flower would come through. Withania chewed her tongue, working up her own nectar, and let a long dribble of it drop into the stem.

Twinkle felt a familiar trickle work its way down from her tip, a taste that lit a fire in her mind and spread through her entire body. She felt the world suddenly accelerate as she began to think at the speed of a pony again. The feeling of being in such a strange body was beyond compare.

“Mmm, it’s handy that you signed on to be here a while Twinkletail,” continued Withania, knowing that Twinkle would have some basic level of understanding now, beyond that of just an earth-pony presence taking care of her. “You’re going to be stuck like this for a while yet. Another two weeks, maybe one if you suddenly get good at growing. The trick is to think like a plant. You’re not a pony anymore Twinkletail, you’re mine. Just another plant growing in my garden. Just don’t grow too fast. You’re paid up for a while, and if you get ahead of yourself, I’ll have to prune you down again. Maybe I’ll cut and dry some of your leaves and see if I can make a tea out of you. I’ll be sure to save you some as a parting gift.”

Twinkletail was overcome with a sense of possession, of being possessed. She was dependant on Withania, and Withania’s love was helping her grow tall and strong. She wanted to please her hostess and make her proud.

Withania spent a little longer doting over her before the effects of the meagre nectar she’d administered were diluted away, and Twinkle fell back into her plant dreams again. Aware, but too slow to react to the speed at which Withania lived. She had a goal in mind now, to grow, to extend and make a single flower so beautiful it would create life again.

For her, time had little meaning, she couldn’t have said if the days had passed slowly or quickly, but it was a week later when Withania stepped outside again to find that a large, and slightly flatter flower than usual was fully formed on her water-unicorn plant. Twine was propping up the plant in various places, and Withania had already resolved not to try this again, but Twinkletail was ready to bloom. And if her pony body had not formed properly, Withania would simply eat her on the spot and regrow her properly. That had only happened a couple of times since opening her hotel.

Twinkletail felt the sun’s glare much more harshly than usual, she screwed up her eyes tightly as it pierced her lids. But it could not be ignored, and with some effort, she lifted her foreleg up to shield her eyes. Her flower she’d worked so hard on was blooming around her, and her mind was suddenly wrenched between her body and the strange animal that had grown in the centre of the flowerbud. The latter won, and Twinkle’s eyes opened with a snap, her memories collapsing back into place like coins into a sorting machine. She was a pony, a unicorn. She looked around at the garden that felt like her home, knowing instinctively where the closest plants were. And in front of her was Withania, smiling and holding out her hoof to help Twinkle down from the plant she was sitting in.

“Welcome back to being a pony,” said Withania. “Would you like some tea? I made a special blend that’s… just right for you…”

Twinkle hadn’t quite remembered how to speak. But she nodded, and followed Withania into her house, looking around as if seeing the world for the first time again.

“How do you feel? You were out for quite a while, not too long I hope?” asked Withania tentatively. Twinkletail seemed a little dazed, but she took the mug of tea that Withania handed to her and knew what to do with it.

“I…” she said slowly, “I feel amazing. Like I slept perfectly, but I can remember waking up a lot… Was I awake?”

“In a manner of speaking… Give it time, you’ll remember everything that happened, but I’ve found it takes an hour or so to readjust to being a pony again. What do you think of the tea?”

Twinkle sipped the tea again. It was sweet and floral, seeming to have a hint of lavender to it, mixed with vanilla, or perhaps something more minty. She suddenly remembered Withania talking to her while she was growing as a plant.

“Is this… me?” she asked. Withania nodded with a sly grin. Twinkletail took another sip. “I taste really nice… And the taste makes me think of being a plant again. Uh… Withania, can we do this again sometime? And next time you make as much of this out of me as you can?”

Withania passed her a business card across the table. “There’s always room in my garden, Twinkletail, come back any time!”
> Stout Heart
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Withania dropped a large seed into a shallow hole behind the greenhouse. This area was dead-space where nothing really grew properly. She hadn’t even paid much attention to this stallion, a red mane and pale coloured coat, but he was more interested in long-term storage. She’s edged him out just long enough to melt him into a seed and left him without orgasm, so he’d be trapped in stasis as a plant, stuck on edge, unable to climax. This dim corner should keep his plant from maturing for a while until she had to come up with another way to re-trap him. Pressing the seed into the dirt under one hoof, she smirked and sauntered away again.

Walking up toward her house, she brushed past a row of colourful tegmen plants, each one a guest in various stages of regrowth. They would feel the lingering touch of their mistress bestowing affection on them, while the lucky ones would be pruned and tied to canes to shape them in strange and weird ways. In the kitchen, she opened the jar of random seeds on the table and picked one out, absently chewing on it like hard candy. The sign-in sheet of the pony she’d just planted was still on the table, so she reviewed it one last time.

A frown scrunched up her nose as she realised that the stallion hadn’t filled out his personal details. He’d clearly gone right to the fun parts - he’d specified an almost arbitrary range of time, while also checking the ‘random release’ box, which gave Withania the option of differing his release for as long as she liked. He’d also ticked more or less every single box in terms of how he responded, and what she was allowed to do with him - but she had no details on who he actually was.

“Shoulda checked first,” she muttered to herself. She was a little too lax about the paperwork, and now she had a pony in her garden with no identity. Lucky for her, that was exactly what he wanted - but all the same she didn’t like the lack of safety net. She rewound her memory of the day to remember what he looked like. Tan-ish coat, brown mane - or was it red? He’d been so eager to jump down her throat that she hadn’t paid much attention, just gulped him up and pleasured herself on his disintegrating bulge of her belly. No matter, she thought to herself as she trotted upstairs to her bed. Lost or not, her guests came to no real harm. Nothing she couldn’t fix, anyway.

It was early morning when Stout Heart approached the garden gate, glancing up at the huge greenhouse visible over the vine-wrapped fencing. His cart had finally given up when he was barely out of the town boundaries, but seeing a large fenced garden nearby he figured the homeowner would have some tools he could borrow. He pushed the garden gate open, looking around for any sign of inhabitants. The rustle of the wind died down as he walked into the aisles of shrubs and plants, leaving everything calm and quiet. There was no one in sight though, so he continued up to the open back door of the house.

“Hello?” he called, glancing around the kitchen. His eyes fell on a green earth mare with a shock of red hair, who was looking right at him with a look of confusion on her face. “Oh, sorry to barge in, I-”

“You’re up quick… I think?” she cut in, looking him up and down. Tan coat, a clay-red mane… He had a scar on his right eye she didn’t recall noticing the day before, but why else would he be walking in from her back garden?

“Excuse me?” stammered Stout, not sure why the mare was speaking as if she knew him. “I think you might’ve made a mistake…”

These words didn’t seem to help his situation, as the earth pony seemed to take it as some kind of confirmation and turned about to grab him by the hooves. She dragged him into the kitchen proper, making sure they were in the middle of the room. “Yes, yes, sorry, you should’ve been under for at least a few days for your first session, don’t worry I’ll have you back in the garden in no time!”

Without waiting for a response, she wrapped her forelegs about Stout’s neck and drew him into a deep kiss, tongue and all. It tasted of flowery sweetness, like a sweet tea or even honey, and despite the absurdity of the situation Stout couldn’t help but let her continue. He wasn’t sure what she meant about the garden, but he certainly wasn’t complaining about her advances. And then she opened her mouth and put his entire muzzle inside.

Withania pressed herself up against the stallion’s chest, giving him full access to touch her as she loosened-up on his snout. He seemed reluctant - but then he’d ticked everything on the sign-in sheet including the box about role-playing an unwilling or semi-willing scenario. He must be putting an act on this time around, playing hard to get. She kept her breath to a minimum, not wanting to smother him with her pollen, but staying ready just in case he got a little too rough. He murmured something, but Withania ignored it as an off-handed moan and went in for the swallow. She relaxed her throat muscles, and gently, but firmly pressed her head over his. He tried to back away, but succeeded only in giving her room to bear down over him and push him onto his hindquarters.

Withania was prepared for this scenario, but unaccustomed to it. She felt a primal thrill in being almost forceful - just taking what she wanted while her prey was powerless to stop her. The stallion slipped into her throat up to his chest, wriggling and twitching in her grasp, and moaning the whole way in a deep, sonorous tone that reverberated to her core. Her eyes peeked over her nose to the strong, shapely behind that she was reaching for, and with a few firm gulps, she was ready to cram his rump into her mouth.

Stout Heart couldn’t believe what was happening to him - one moment he was trying to introduce himself, and the next, this crazy mare had thrown herself onto him and then literally started devouring him whole. He tried to cry out and tell her to stop, but his voice was muffled by the soft, slick tunnel of her throat. It was warm and pulsing with contracting waves to draw him deeper inside, and the sweet taste he’d picked up from her kiss was everywhere, working into his fur and skin alike. It wasn’t unpleasant, but more unexpected - she pinned his limbs to his side, forcing his wings down as she stretched impossibly over his larger body, until the tip of his snout pushed through a tighter check in her throat and dipped into a pool of watery fluid.

His hind was quick to follow, slipping through her jaws - accompanied by a playful lick about his balls - and pushing the rest of his torso into the dark tank of her belly. At first he recoiled, expecting stomach acid, but it seemed to be quite the opposite. Being larger than she was he was able to stretch up enough to keep the tip of his nose above board, and took full advantage to voice his complaints.

“What in the hay are you doing?!” he shouted, struggling as best he could without splashing the sweet smelling liquid over his face. Outside, Withania heard muffled yells, but she was more focused on the feeling of struggling prey. She’d never really experienced this, with her only other cases of an unwilling guest being relaxed by her hypnotising breath, or immediately subdued by being drowned in her belly squashed by her hips. Now she was resting on her bulging round midriff, forelegs off the ground, feeling jolts and buffets of the tan pony apparently making a very convincing case of being unwilling. It filled her with an intoxicating sensation of power.

“Oh helpless little pony, your struggles are entirely in vain, but don’t stop on my account!” she said seductively, “Although I’ve got to say I think I should offer a discount to anyone who can play unwilling this well - it’s a guilty pleasure! Let me return the favour!” She could see the vague outline of her guest, showing how he was oriented in her belly - and knowing that he wouldn’t easily be able to turn, she leaned and rolled onto her back so that her huge green tum pivoted on top of herself. This had the effect of turning the unnamed guest almost upside down, and definitely taking away the tiny air-gap he’d afforded.

Stout couldn’t see anything inside the green mare, and was caught completely off-guard as his world tumbled over, drowning him in the alluringly tasty liquid that was soaking into his body. He tried to twist and right himself, but between the soft and stretchy, but taut sack of her stomach and the darkness, his own bodyweight squashed him against her torso. The nectar flooded into his mouth, and his strength began to fail as she gently rocked him back and forth on top of herself. The liquid had done more than he realised, and within moments he could feel the weight of his flanks pressing his upper body in half. He fretted, expecting something horrifying to happen, but there was no pain. Quite the opposite, the sensation of turning into a soft doughy blob was unlike anything he’d imagined. It only got better as he felt his host roll onto her side, and then back on to her belly, using her now stronger weight to knead his mass against the kitchen floor. There was a chill where her belly was pressed flat against the tiles, but above there was warmth, and heat from between her hind legs, where her thighs clenched and pressed against him.

Unable to move or struggle anymore, Stout Heart gave in and relaxed what was left of his muscles, feeling the larger body all around smother him into submission, the sounds and motions lulling him into slumber as he was liquified into soup.

Withania flopped over her rounded a gurgling belly. Hard work was done, and now she could enjoy an early morning meal for the rest of the day. She gave her side a good rub, digging her hoof into the soft mass. Hopefully her performance would make up for a rather short first-night for this customer. She dozed for a while until her belly pulled back under her enough to comfortably waddle around, and then knowing that her guest would still be in a low-state of awareness, she turned on the radio and performed her daily chores with a jig in her step. Swaying her hips and swinging her belly, her occupant would receive a wonderful massage as he was pressed into her gut and strained through her digestive system.

Stout Heart fell into a reverie of swirling liquid, increasing pressure, and full-body stimulation as he journeyed through Withania. He was no longer really awake, but felt as though in a dream. Ideas and emotions made sensations feel real, and he imagined himself to be a blob passing through the maze of a larger being that moved and swayed almost lovingly. His body dwindled, but his sense of self became denser, compressing until he felt like a stone - or a seed. His senses were long gone, but his consciousness felt a sudden chill, as the warmth of his surroundings was taken away and replaced with the cooler touch of daylight and air around him. He couldn’t move, but was being handled by something, or some pony.

Withania gave the seed in her hoof a sensual lick, tasting the faint flavour of the stallion she’d devoured that morning. She opened the window, tensing up to throw the seed out into the garden, but then she remembered that he’d probably regrow within a day or so if she did that. She looked around and spotted the jar of seeds on the table.

“I think you’ve earned a spot in the trophy jar, mister anonymous… Next time remember to fill out your paperwork!”

Stout Heart tumbled through the air as he fell from her hoof, and with a rattle he felt the presence of more ponies around him. Each one in the same semi-sleep that he was, unaware of time, just aware of being an object. A sudden earthquake jumbled them all up as Withania shook the jar to mix the seeds up and then that was it. Stout Heart was lost in a collection of other ponies who had chosen this experience, stuck in a jar until such time that they were picked out at random to be eaten again, and perhaps planted after another trip through their mistress' body.

That night as Withania walked down her garden to check that the gate was closed, she noticed a Tegmen plant, in the mid-stage of regrowing a guest, growing out from the side of the green house. Odd, she thought, Who’s that? She wracked her brain to remember who she’d dumped behind the greenhouse.

“It was that tan-coloured stallion…” she said aloud to the garden. “But that means the pony from this morning was… Whoops…”
> Verlo
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Verlo shuddered as his lungs pumped liquid nectar instead of air, Withania’s internal juices invading every space of his body, surrounding him inside and out to the most absolute extent possible. She had told him it would be like this, but despite knowing what was happening, he still felt nervous about this ordeal. This wasn’t Verlo’s first rodeo - although Withania was unlike any other predator he’d been with, and that made him nervous. It was, however, unbelievably comfortable. He was pressed in from all sides with a steady rhythmic massage that settled him into position as Withania got up and began to walk around. She didn’t breathe, but he could hear the steady beat of her heart pumping her plant-fluids around in time with the compressions her stomach applied to him.

She had been so gentle as well, starting off slowly, steadily exerting her will over him as he surrendered his body to her dripping maw, and then her throat. Now she walked with a sway in her step to lull his senses into her own, as her belly softly kneaded his limbs and joints into soft and yielding dough. It was a surreal feeling to Verlo, knowing that he wasn’t going to get magicked back into his pony body. This was happening, and he was in for a long ride - but also a pleasurable one. He’d been careful to tell Withania what he wanted, and Withania’s response had been a mixture of How can I make that happen? and I really want to make that happen.

Verlo could feel his mind and body being sapped away by Withania’s. He was a ball of mush slowly being sucked and compressed into her gut where his mass would become a layer of spongy plant matter on her hips, and his consciousness and memories would be whittled down and condensed into a seed that would remake him. He wished he could spend more time inside her, just listening to the sound of her body, and feel her movements and her soft caring embrace - but that would come later, if all went to plan. He let her stomach push the tension out of his liquid remains and carry him into a dream-like state.

Withania lumbered into her greenhouse, her sagging belly swinging in time to her step as it worked down her newest guest. She needed to make some preparations for Verlo, for a service she’d tested the theory of, but never the practise. On a table to one side of her nursery plants stood a couple of bonsai trees. They were a little hairy, having not had the full care and attention they should have been receiving, but nonetheless were quite healthy miniature trees. Taking an empty decorative plant pot, she added the typical soil mixture she would use for bonsai - a fine mixture of earth, grit, and a little gravel for proper draining and aerating. Satisfied that her guest’s room was ready, she spent the rest of the afternoon maintaining the rest of the garden. It was just before her bedtime that she felt Verlo’s seed nudge under her tail. She hadn’t made any attempt to retain him, so he would be ready to plant even before his body had finished dissolving into her own. Taking the hoof-sized seed to the greenhouse, she planted it and retired for the night.

Verlo gained some sense of self-awareness as the morning sun began to warm him. His lower body was buried up to what he interpreted as his crotch, and his upper body was stretched impossibly thin up in the air. The soil around him held his strangely proportioned body in place, and he felt rigid enough that he wouldn’t fall over. In fact, he couldn’t move at all in any real capacity. His forelegs had become multiple stems of leaves that he angled toward the warming light overhead, slowly reaching higher. The greenhouse was quiet, however at the speed he was currently living at, the many, many other plants around him seemed to move and rustle with him, all waking up from the slumber of the night to continue their daily race for the sunlight blazing down through the glass high overhead. Verlo had plans to create a beautiful bud that would bloom into a flower, his sole purpose, and after a night of preparation, he knew it wasn’t far away.

And then, before he could even understand what was happening, a blur of motion towered over him. Some benevolent force that seemed both alien and familiar in equal measure flashed around him. He felt a misting of water all over his leaves and stem, and more water soaked the earth around him, triggering his roots to eagerly soak up as much as he was able to. But the tower of green wasn’t finished there. There was a glint of metal blades, and Verlo felt a series of precise cuts to each of his extremities, a leaf here, a shoot there, and finally, the tiny bud he was getting ready to pour himself into was gone. Despite the sudden pruning, he actually felt tension leave his strange plant-body. There was less to do, less to look after. He was content again, the bud and the flower could wait.

Withania spent a week working on her new bonsai-plant. The tegmen-hybrid that her seeds grew into was tricky - by its nature, it wanted to grow impossibly fast, trying to spiral up into a pony-sized plant that could support the reformation of whoever was trapped in the seed. But through constant attention, including pruning several times a day, she finally managed to train Verlo into a vastly smaller size, more akin to a naturally-sized flower. It was at this point that she stopped trimming the main flower bud, and allowed the plant to properly develop. Concern nagged her that this wouldn’t work at all - forcing a tegmen-hybrid to grow at the size of a house plant was a trick she’d done before, but that experiment had ended in her digging up the volunteer pony and eating the seed again, letting her body reprocess it again into a fresh seed that would grow properly. She knew what she wanted to happen next, but had no idea if it would actually work.

Verlo had grown accustomed to his life as a plant. Although it had only been a week or so, the strange passage of time had eroded the sense of strangeness to him, and he was flourishing as a common flower, savouring the attention that his green goddess frequently bestowed on him. When she altered his body, it must be because she knew what was best for him. He felt a sense of energy from her whenever she was near that spurred him on constantly. Earth pony magic that he didn’t currently understand, but would later realise was the root of his cousin race’s ability to work the earth so effectively. When she stopped pruning him, a store of pent up energy that had been growing in his core was unleashed, and in the space of a night the tip of his stem clenched into a bud, which drew up all of his reserves from root to leaf-tips. As the morning sun hit him, the bud exploded into a luscious indigo flower, where lay a grey-coated unicorn with a mane to match the petals around him.

The unicorn awoke groggily, swaying slowly in smooth motions as if he were still a flower in the breeze, and then muscles began to connect, and Verlo remembered how to move his body again. He marvelled at the huge flower he was sitting in and looked over the edge. It wasn’t too far down. Igniting his unicorn magic, he positioned the giant leaves as steps and bounded down onto the earth below. His eyes caught movement, and he turned to see an enormous green mare with a shock of terracotta hair tousling around her head, and a similar colour tail swishing in her wake stride up alongside him. Her huge, but kind face looked down, and Verlo suddenly realised that he was perhaps three or four inches tall.

“Good morning Verlo,” she said to him in a voice that seemed to fill the room, “You look well… Very well.” She’d done it. She’d successfully shrunk a pony down to a diminutive size with apparently no ill effect at all. “How d’you feel?”

“I-I feel normal- but everything else is huge!” said Verlo. “And… you’re also… very large…” Withania responded by turning broad-side, showing off her size - and the luscious curve of her flanks.

“What do you think? You filled me out pretty well I’d say… I think we’re both well prepared for your ah, little experience!” She turned again, a swish of her tail sending a draft that nearly knocked Verlo over, and showing off the green folds of her nethers that were now comparatively as tall as he was.

“Imagination doesn’t prepare you for reality…” replied Verlo, staring slack-jawed at the stature of what appeared to be a giant, but really was a normally-sized pony in front of him. “Uh… are you sure I’m going to be okay?”

Withania turned and lowered her head to the edge of the bench, so she was at eye level with Verlo. She reached up with one hoof and pushed Verlo onto his back, pinning him down with ease. His body was pressed against the soft frog, while his head stuck out from the hard line of her hoof. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but with relative ease she could press down and end him there and then. “Relax, Verlo… if you get hurt, all I have to do is eat you and turn you into a seed again, and we can start over. You’d be a drop in the bucket in my belly now.” Her casual, but slightly excited attitude did little to settle Verlo’s concern, although having a huge, larger-than-life mare an inch away from him was tugging on Verlo’s strings far too much to ignore. Anyway, if she’d managed to get this far, she clearly knew what she was doing.

Without warning, Withania suddenly lunged forward and snapped her mouth over the miniature pony in one swift motion, like a dog taking a treat from an outstretched hoof. Verlo gasped, feeling his legs pinched together by her lips, and then pulled in as she lifted her head up and settled him on her tongue. The familiar scent of her nectar filled his head again, but before it really got into his lungs, Withania tossed her head back, opening her mouth and flinging him into the air. Verlo yelped and flailed his legs wildly, before landing with a soft thump in the wild autumn bush of Withania’s mane. He righted himself, bracing his forelegs on her ears that stuck up on either side of him.

“Let’s take this into the house, I think!” she said brightly. She started moving at her own pace, which was by no means energetic, but for Verlo sitting on the crown of her head, it felt like a rollercoaster. Withania seemed like a behemoth, her hoofsteps heavy enough to cause jolts and vibrations that he felt in his core, yet she moved with such ease and power. What’s more, she was an earth pony, and as such used her head and mouth an awful lot. Just as Verlo was expecting her to use unicorn magic to open the greenhouse door as he would, she casually butted her head against it, causing an earthquake in his world that shook him into the back of her mane. His legs tangled in her locks and kept him from falling, but he had his work cut out to climb up to the surface of this terracotta sea again.

Withania made her way into the living room. She’d been sorely tempted to take this scene into her bedroom, but she knew that things were likely to get messy, and her floor mat was a lot easier to clean than the bedsheets were. She deliberately exaggerated her movements, just for the thrill of feeling the little unicorn in her mane hang on for dear life. As she sat down on the mat she could feel verlo somewhere around the back of her neck, and flicked her mane so he swung wildly around to the front.

“Aaaaaaaah! Withania! Maybe if you could-”

Whatever Verlo was about to suggest was cut off as she snatched him into her mouth once again. She pulled away so that the strands of her mane came out from her pursed lips, and then tongued Verlo all over to get a taste for him again. She would have been fighting the temptation to swallow him like a snack, but once again, they had better plans laid out. Once Withania was satisfied that Verlo was well and truly coated in her nectar again, she lowered her head and opened her mouth so that he fell out onto the mat with a plop.

Verlo sat back on his haunches, panting slightly as he stared up at the huge mare above him. Withania gave a sly smile and turned around so that her rump hovered above, with an accompanying swish of her tail revealing her glistening folds.

“Time for a hardness test I think,” she said, swaying her hips to Verlo’s gaze, “Best make sure you can take the pressure in advance if you want to survive intact.” Bracing her hind legs, she lowered her ass down, casting a shadow looming over Verlo. Her cheeks touched the mat and she carefully wriggled to ensure that the little pony was properly positioned between them - then she relaxed and let her weight settle.

Verlo was pressed onto his back and pinned on both sides by soft green walls, while a darker green column of Withania’s vagina and anus greeted his face. He automatically rubbed his nose against it, feeling the heat inside and a quiver of delight from Withania. The pressure wasn’t fierce at this point, since the bulk of her weight was resting on her asscheeks either side of him, but he couldn’t have escaped if he’d wanted to, no light and barely any sound could reach him under here, only the slick sound and syrup smell of Withania’s nethers anticipating his imminent entry.

Satisfied that her toy was in position, Withania pressed down, grinding herself into the mat. Verlo was squeezed down by the smooth and soft nethers on top of him. They spread and parted to hug his body lengthways and slide along him as the giant pony gyrated her hips. At this angle he couldn’t get pushed inside her, but she seemed quite content to rub herself against him. Her giant clit was peeking out from her velvet folds, slick and lubricated against his already sopping body, and in no time at all Verlo’s cock was enticed outwards and upwards to meet it, being pressed flat against his belly and then stroked upright into her slit as she glided back and forth. It was getting difficult to breath, so Verlo used his forelegs to part the top of her slit to gain a little space - but this just allowed her to press down even further, enveloping him entirely between her folds.

Withania felt this happen, noting that Verlo was sliding against the mat now, rather than staying put as she grinded herself on him, so she relaxed and lifted her hips up again to check on her guest. Verlo lay in a puddle, panting, erect, and tongue hanging out.

“Doin’ okay down there, little guy?” she asked, leaning her head in close again, her huge maroon eyes filling his vision, crossed slightly to focus on him.

“Ye-yeah,” he said, nodding eagerly. Despite being heavy and powerful, she was soft, and warm. And now all Verlo could think about was being squashed under her again, pinched in the hug of her butt cheeks and kissing her most intimate parts. Withania reverted to a sitting position, becoming tall again, and opened her hind legs to present herself to Verlo.

“Your turn for this test I think, why don’t you see how well you fit? I want you to be nice and snug, for safety, of course…” she said, gesturing for him to approach.

Verlo gingerly walked up to her crotch, eyes on her green puss, and the dark green mound of her clit intermittently jutting out from her slit invitingly. He gently kissed it, causing a twitch from her entire body that nearly knocked him flat - but undeterred, Verlo’s horn illuminated and his magical aura separated her nether lips to reveal the moist passage within. Withania uncharacteristically gasped, not expecting this, but she managed to keep her forehooves planted on either side of her hips. She wanted to let Verlo do this bit, give him a little freedom to do as he wished. The pulsating walls of her vagina were exposed to him, and with his forelegs braced on the inside of Withania’s curvaceous thighs, Verlo threaded his hind legs into her slick entrance, sliding in with ease.

Withania felt like a hidden person was pushing a dildo into her, but the dildo was a complex shape, and moved and wriggled and flexed of its own accord. She gently tensed and relaxed her vaginal muscles, and tugged on Verlo’s body, pulling him in up to his neck. Verlo wriggled his body inside her passage, testing his movement. She hugged him tightly, but her insides were silky smooth, and he could twist and move his forelegs to his front or sides with ease, changing the way he stretched her walls. Her beating clitoris was gently nuzzling into his face now, and with a lick of his lips he suckled on it, licking and pulling ever so gently.

This was too much for Withania, and she reflexively clamped her hind legs together again, smushing his head between her folds and her chubby thighs, padded with his own former mass. This only served to press him into her button even harder, and judging by his enthusiastic movement inside her velvet tunnel, he was loving every moment. She rubbed her thighs together, trying to seek some kind of way to get even more out of this, but despite being the giant in this scene, she found herself practically at Verlo’s mercy. Yet his small stature limited how much he could do - he was teasing her out of her mind this way, and with focused and determined movement, Withania spread her legs open once again, and her forehoof darted to the top of her clit, pressing down hard. Verlo’s eyes widened as he saw the giant tan-coloured hoof descend on him with alarming speed, and was pressed into the spongy walls of Withania’s vagina with devastating pressure. He couldn’t move, or even draw breath as the ravenous mare went to work on herself, but neither was he still. The soft walls squeezing him undulated and compressed rhythmically, trying to push him back out while the hoof pressed his head back in. The ever-present nectar that seemed to inhabit every orifice on this pony seemed to thicken around him, further restricting his movement while she lewdly pleasured herself on him.

Withania’s eyes shot open as she felt a coming orgasm and she suddenly remembered what she was doing. Biting her lower lip she dragged her hoof away from herself, trembling slightly but resisting the urge to climax there and then. She wanted to save it, as well as not risk melting Verlo into syrup - that was not part of the deal, as much as she would love to have done that.

The unicorn gasped as the vice-like pressure around him finally let up, and then a sudden push from deep within squeezed him out from Withania’s vagina like toothpaste from a tube, dropping him on the padded mat with in a puddle of her fluids. Out of the fierce heat of her sex, Verlo was suddenly chilly, and glanced up almost with longing. But Withania wasn’t intending to leave him out for long. She looked down at him with a lust-fueled stare as she got up onto her hooves to rearrange.

“I need you inside me,” she said urgently, “Otherwise I’m going to either squash you or melt you. Sit upright and hold still.”

Verlo was galvanised by the sudden authority in her voice and did as he was told, sitting down with his back straight and her golden nectar slowly oozing down his body. Her hind leg swished past him, almost sending him flying across the room, and then she was squatting directly overhead, pussy winking and a strand of nectar hanging like honey from a dipper. The unicorn closed his eyes in acceptance of his fate, and a huge weight descended over him. Had Withania’s aim been off by an inch, he would certainly have been flattened, but instead he was plunged back into the hot, slick confines of her pussy. Headfirst, it was dark and difficult to breathe. He felt a sudden surge of upwards motion as Withania stood up with his hind legs sticking out from her folds and waving uselessly, then she stretched forward like a cat, straightening her hind legs and clenching her butt cheeks together, forcing the rest of him deeper into her velvet passage.

Verlo heard, or rather felt, a rather lewd moan from Withania around him as she clenched and relaxed, working him up against her cervix. He expected some resistance here, however as his head nudged against the check valve of her womb, it dilated around him as if Withania’s plumbing were designed for this activity. Verlo was squeezed through the narrower neck of her inner chamber and found himself in a comparatively more open space, which he was immediately trapped in by the cervix sealing shut behind his tail. It was still pitch dark, but by feel alone he started to explore his new confines. It was cosy, but he certainly had enough room for his throbbing cock to finally stand up on its own, without getting pressed flat again. He quickly got to work, moving in time with Withania’s body around him as if she were coaxing the climax out of his body in royalties for being here. It was hard to tell how much necar he was sitting in, everything was so slick and wet that it hardly mattered - and as he felt his dick begin pumping his seed into the ooze around him there was no noticeable change at all. He moaned his response to his new host and sat back in tired satisfaction, letting the soft, plush walls gently caress his body.

Withania was sat back on her rump, eagerly massaging her clit as she climaxed and oozed viscous nectar all over the floor mat. She could feel Verlo locked deep inside her, safe from her clenching vagina, but far from escape. She gave a long sigh, an invisible cloud of pollen blowing out from her mouth reflexively. “Well then…” she said, “That was rather more intense than I had planned… Feeling okay in there, Verlo?”

From inside, she felt a small form rubbing against her innermost walls, an incredibly strange sensation stimulating a place she normally couldn’t discern or feel. Verlo was small enough that there was barely a bump under her belly, although as she stroked her abdomen with one hoof she could make out a curve, a firmness that moved under her touch. Well, her work and her play were done for now. All that was left was to get on with her day and let the shrunken unicorn in her womb enjoy himself however he pleased. Hopefully she’d expended enough sexual energy that he’d remain safe inside her - on any other day, her body would be going to work on turning Verlo into a jar full of rich pussy nectar.

Verlo snuggled down the warm vat. He could feel Withania moving around now, walking, pausing, turning, walking somewhere else. He had briefly lit his horn, and found the chamber around him a pale green, glistening and dripping with the ever-present nectar - however, when he extinguished the light his other senses went into overdrive, picking out the warm thump of Withania’s heart, the slosh of her watery nectar in the adjacent belly, and occasionally words as she spoke to herself, or perhaps to other plants. It was far more intimate to sit in the cosy darkness of her embrace and imagine what was happening around him that it was to simply use magic and see the pulsating walls of her uterus. He dozed off to sleep once or twice, and entirely lost track of time, being uncertain where Withania even was anymore, let alone what time of day it was. One thing remained an absolute constant, and that was the steady and soothing movement of her womb around him. He knew he wasn’t being melted or dissolved by the feel of his hooves, yet all the same he felt so embedded in the syrup of nectar around him that he could have become part of her.

Withania meanwhile, had passed the rest of her day in quiet peacefulness. She had no chores to do that required her to leave the house and garden, so with many cups of tea to keep her going, she powered through garden maintenance. She felt the constant presence of Verlo inside her, more aware of him than she would normally be of her prey because he wasn’t melting away. Initially, she’d been disappointed that he didn’t want her to absorb him, however this result had somehow been a pleasant change of pace. It was nice to have company, even if he couldn’t converse with her in any useful way. She knew he was enjoying his stay, she could feel the warm core of contentment deep inside, radiating through her body.

When the end of the day came around and she walked back into her house, closing the door behind her, she had planned to gear herself up to evict Verlo from her body. Yet he seemed to be doing just fine, and she didn’t want to end this entirely wholesome experience quite yet.

“Verlo? Not sure how well you can hear me… but if it’s alright with you… Let’s make this an overnight stay, shall we?”

She couldn’t feel any distinct response. But hey, who wouldn’t want to spend a night inside her, she thought. Taking a mug of green tea, she made her way up the rickety stairs to her bedroom. Maybe she’d let Verlo out in the morning… depending how she felt. I’m sure he won’t mind...
> Silver Speck
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Withania’s garden continued to produce a colourful array of plants that resembled her signature creation, but all bore a unique shade or style that alluded to the pony hibernating within. It was more work than ever to maintain but Withania never tired of it, enjoying both the tranquillity of such a happy relationship and also the powertrip of being in control of these ponies whilst they were under her care. She talked aloud to her plants, complementing their progress, teasing their predicament, or humming soothing notes as each guest of her strange hotel would appreciate.

She thought she was imagining things when a small voice replied with, “Excuse me!” Her plants did not talk, but she suddenly became aware that she was alone in her garden and more or less talking to herself, and so she worked on in silence.

“Excuse me!” squeaked the voice again. Withania looked around in confusion - had someone slipped through the garden gate without her noticing? Or maybe a customer at the back door? Or even, she thought with a sudden panic, a guest plant had bloomed without her being ready for it! She whirled around to patrol the garden in search of the disembodied voice when a huge colourful moth landed on her nose. Only it wasn’t a moth, it was - a breezie? A powder-blue body with silvery wings and antennae balanced with ease at the cross of Withania’s eyes, looking up at her with a mixture of nerves and determination.

“Oh! Hello, I didn’t expect - are you a breezie?” she asked. She leaned back, but of course, this did nothing since he was perched on her snout.

“Umm! Yes! M-my name is Silver Speck. Are you Withania?”

“I am, yes… What brings you here? It’s a bit early for breezie season isn’t it?”

Silver Speck floated backwards off of Withania and landed on the closed bud of a tall flower. He was so light he barely had to flap his wings, the meagre breeze in the garden being enough to carry him. “Actually I’m wandering away from my people, I wanted to see more of this world, but… it’s hard to find safe ways to experience it for somepony as small as me.”

“I bet,” said Withania, “I’ve always been told to leave you little guys well alone when you come on by.”

“Yes, the ponies are very gentle with us. But you see… I’ve been sort of curious about other wild animals and the uh… food chain. And I’ve noticed that you ah, seem to have a knack for sharing in such things with others… and… umm…”

“Wait, you’re here for the hotel? You want to try out getting eaten?” said Withania incredulously. Silver Speck was galvanised at hearing this said aloud, but nodded stiffly as if he couldn’t trust himself to admit it in words. Withania didn’t look convinced, but there was a familiar look on his little face that reminded her of herself. At first, predation seemed scary and uncertain, while also holding an alluring tug at some odd desire deep inside. It never seemed right to ask or to go willingly, yet on the inside, she would be begging for it to happen. Having the right pony to give in to was important.

“I uh, don’t have any money but-” said Silver.

“Oh Silver,” she cut in, “I don’t do this for money. Come inside a moment.” She inclined her head toward him, and he floated over to ride on her tousled mane as she walked into her kitchen. “Now, normally I have a form that ponies fill out, like a permission slip, but I don’t exactly have it in breezie-size. So how about we have a safety word instead? I’ll talk you through everything, and if you feel uncomfortable at any point, you say ‘kumquat’ and I’ll stop okay?”

“Does… does that still work after you umm… swallow me?”

“Well, no. There’s a point of no return. But I promise you won’t come to any harm.” Withania realised that this wasn’t exactly confidence-boosting, so she set him down on the kitchen table and took a seat, leaning in so her face filled his vision. “Let’s go through it from start to finish. Remember the safety word if you want me to stop?”

Silver Speck nodded, gazing up at her big eyes and jawline. As he nodded she licked her lips, most likely to moisten them before talking, but it was such a quick dart of the tongue in almost a practised motion that the green mare suddenly looked incredibly predatory.

“So then,” she said, speaking softly as he was a mere few inches from her face, “I like to start with a few licks, to moisten you up so you’re not too dry in my mouth. It’ll also get you past any reactions to getting slimy and gross, just by getting that over with immediately. Then I’ll lean in real close like this-”

Here she leaned even closer, nudging Silver Speck back onto his rump with the tip of her nose, close enough that he could reach out and touch her teeth if she bared them. She opened her mouth between each sentence, so he could clearly see into her green maw. A sweet smell emanated, tempting, while strands of golden nectar glistened alluringly.

“And snap you up into my mouth. You’ll be laying on my tongue in a puddle of my saliva, and I’ll press you against the roof of my mouth, and into my cheeks, and maybe under my tongue. You can try moving about. Maybe you’ll curl up, or maybe you’ll like to spread out - I think the latter will be more fun. After a little mouth-play, I’ll move you to the back of my mouth, and I’ll swallow. My throat will open up and you’ll slip into my esophagus - but only a little way. The first swallow will wrap you up in the spongy walls of my throat, and then it’ll be a slow descent as my gullet’s undulations squeeze you tightly down to my chest. The bulge you make will disappear, and no one will be able to tell that I’ve eaten you. It’ll be between you and me after that.”

The breezie sat motionless, without a sound, staring wide-eyed up into the green cavern before him. He looked daunted, yet at the same time, Withania could still see the unmistakable burn of morbid curiosity, and he had not stopped her. So she continued.

“When you reach my belly, you’ll find it full to the brim with nectar. I don’t have a regular stomach you see, it’s a reservoir. You’ll be completely submerged, it’ll get into every gap in your body until it’s in your mouth, your own belly, and then your lungs. But that’s the trick, because my body takes all the oxygen I create through photosynthesis and dumps it into my nectar. It’s so rich you can breathe it. So you’ll be suspended in the stuff, still awake and preserved. Then after a time, depending on how tough your body is, you’ll start going soft. The nectar gets you as much on the inside as on the outside, and you’ll soak it up and become soft and squishy. Your legs and wings will be first to go, they’ll dissolve into more nectar, and then the rest of you will melt away. The best part is,” Here she lowered her voice to a whisper, “It feels amazing.”

Silver Speck was trembling with anticipation now, and he swallowed to keep his mouth from watering. He had expected something quick, assuming he’d need to get it over with before he lost his nerve, however Withania had almost hypnotised him just with words. He was entirely within her thrall, ready to give himself to her.

“Now you’re a mass of my sweet nectar, still aware, but unable to move or act, and you’ll get funnelled into my gut and absorbed into my body, and you’ll experience being a soft layer of plump chub on my hips. Then after a day or so, you’ll condense back into my lower gut. You’ll be squashed and squeeze incredibly tightly, until you’re a solid seed crammed with your soul and the shoot that you’ll grow as. I’ll put you in a window-sill plant pot, I think, and you’ll make a tiny little flower that watches the world go by until you bloom as a breezie again. What do you think, Silver Speck?”

He didn’t have any words, but slowly nodded in approval of all of these things. Withania suddenly leaned forward, her huge green tongue extending out and basting Silver Speck with golden saliva. She followed up by enveloping his entire body with her mouth, pursing her lips around his waist just so he could get a feel for what her maw would be like. Alas, the sudden feel his wings brushing against her mouth and Silver twitched, one wing folding alarmingly while the others bent and an awkward angle. Withania felt his quick movement, as well as his wings shifting like a hair on her tongue and drew back rapidly.

“Aah, sorry, I wasn’t ready! I’ll try and keep my wings down!” apologies Silver Speck, stretching and folding his wings again. Withania was looking down quizzically, clearly seeing a problem here. She knew from past experiences that some reflexive actions where not easily suppressed, and could result in injury no matter how hard the players tried.

“Let me grab something that will help…” she said, turning away and crossing her kitchen to the shelves above the worktop. She reached up and grabbed a jar, holding it by a convenient leather strap designed for earth ponies to grasp with their mouths, and brought it back to the table. Opening the lid, she poured it over Silver’s head, revealing the contents to be honey. The thick goop blobbed down his back, coating his wings and effectively glueing them down. “Not that I need you to be any sweeter, but I think this will take care of things nicely!”

Silver Speck suddenly felt significantly more vulnerable now he was covered in the thick sticky honey. It wasn’t uncomfortable or binding, however he was unable to make any quick movements, and his wings could barely move at all. Stuck in place he gazed up as Withania’s open mouth descended on him once more, covering him in a hot, damp enclosure. The very air around him vibrated with her moan of pleasure, as she pressed him up against the roof of her mouth with her tongue. The large muscle was a soft cushion under his body, but one that moved and twitched and formed around his skinny frame, sampling the honey and his own flavour alike.

For his part, her own saliva diluted the honey where it dripped, thinning it into something he could swallow and enjoy. It was an odd sensation, to taste and enjoy her fluids knowing that soon his entire body would melt into the same stuff. The very thought set him stretching out on his belly, eager to cover himself as much as possible. Withania rubbed him against the roof of her mouth again, squashing and releasing him so his flavour oozed out in all directions. Just as he grew used to her movements, she shifted his body, or tilted her head, and then finally, her jaws opened enough and she shoved his flailing body into her cheek. Silver found himself up against the solid wall of her teeth. The large, flat molars were easily capable of major damage, but they moved with pinpoint precision. He braced himself against the solid enamel and pressed against her cheek, play fighting as it tried to press him back. Withania indulged this for a while, and then just to remind him who was really in control here, she suddenly opened her jaws so that Silver Speck tumbled back into the middle of her mouth, pinning him under her tongue.

It was at this moment that Silver remembered what Withania had said to him. I’ll move you to the back of my mouth, and I’ll swallow. And no sooner than her words had echoed in his mind, her tongue snatched him up once again, lolling to the back of her mouth where an undulating fleshy tunnel vanished down, carrying the echos of slick nectar and honey dribbling through its passage. In the heat of the moment, he’d forgotten why he was in this situation, and now suddenly the realisation that he was being eaten gave him pause. Withania was unaware of his moment of clarity, and shut her eyes as she swallowed hard to bring down the breezie in a single gulp.

The slick opening seemed to reach up and wrap around Silver, giving him no possibility of escape. This was the moment, his heart rushed and his lungs gasped at the hot and sweetened air around him as he was swallowed by Withania. The fleshy walls of her throat settled around him, compressing and squeezing him down - until a sudden narrowing wedged him in place. Withania’s throat compressed down on him, but he was being held in check by Withania holding her hoof to her throat. He couldn’t move, and was almost smothered, covered with the honey and nectar combined, a gooey lump in the throat of a huge predator that was toying with him.

And then Withania relaxed her throat again, sending the breezie down with a lurch. She licked her lips and swallowed the excess saliva pooled in her mouth, but other than that she felt - normal. She was so used to feeling full and stretched after eating, yet Silver Speck had been so small that she didn’t even feel him inside her. She licked her lips and smiled as she got up from the table to head outside and continue working. Business as usual, except somewhere inside her a little breezie was living out his dreams.

Silver Speck found himself within a different world. The outdoors, the light, and the fresh air around Withania’s house and garden were replaced by a dark and humid environment. The only light was the faint glow of his luminescent antenna that revealed slick green walls, while he was surrounded by deep tremors of Withania moving around, her heart beating, and the liquid gurgle of fluids in her body. He had little time to take this all in before he was dropped into a pool of thin and watery nectar, with the tube that he had arrived in clenching shut behind him to leave no air pockets at all.

The watery fluid inside Withania washed him clean of the honey that had bound his limbs together, but as a breezie he was programmed to avoid bodies of water at all costs. He thrashed around for a few moments before remembering what Withania had told him. You’ll be able to breath my nectar, she’d said. Silver Speck allowed himself to sink into the middle of her belly, weightless and unnoticed. He held his breath as long as he could, before finally blowing out a stream of tiny bubbles that quickly floated away, and upon trying to draw another breath his tiny lungs were flooded. He convulsed again, reaching for anything he could grasp and finding nothing. Then the worst was over. He breathed again, feeling the rush of liquid moving in and out of his lungs - alien in sensation, but quite able to support him. The nectar had invaded every part of him during this struggle, his ears, nose, even his nether regions were filled. Every last bubble of air had been displaced from his body and whisked away as nothing more than perhaps a hiccup to Withania.

Now he had calmed down again, Silver Speck took stock of his situation. The sounds of Withania’s body working around him were overwhelming, a soothing vibration on his body that wasn’t deafening, but penetrated him to his core. He belonged to her now, and there was no escape. If she had been a wild predator, this might have been a desperate struggle in vain that would end in a terrifying fade into darkness - but knowing that he was in the belly of a kind and protective predator soothed his nerves and calmed his mind, allowing him to focus and think about the sensations on his body.

The nectar dislodged and carried away every speck of dirt and pollen sticking to his coat, expanding and clearing the pathways inside his body down to his very pores. But as clean as this made him feel, another sensation was beginning to take hold - like spending too long in the bathtub, he felt soft and almost wrinkly. His joints were soothed and relieved of tension up to the point where he felt them moving past limits he thought possible.

Bringing his forehooves up to his face to inspect them in the dim light from his antennae, he discovered that they had become like noodles. There was no distinction between hoof and foreleg anymore, no joint, just a soft appendage that was quickly dwindling away into the liquid nectar swirling in and around his body. His hind legs weren’t doing much better, as he’d been instinctively treading the liquid to orient himself. His mane and tail had already gone, dissolved away without his notice - and then finally, he released that his lungs had become an open space in his chest, eroded away into more nectar that hollowed him out from the inside.

There was no pain at all, if anything the sensation was so alluring that he wanted nothing more than to help it along. His sense of self, the sense of his body, was no longer a solid blob of flesh, but a drop of liquid that stretched and compressed in a larger volume, able to be formed and moulded. Finally, the last of his body dissipated into this liquid mass, and he became nothing but Withania’s fluids, to be absorbed and distributed through her body.

His mass drifted on a tiny current to the back of her stomach, where he was drawn into another tube as an amorphous shape of thicker nectar and slowly carried deeper into her gut. The walls here stroked him, brushing away at him like cloth. His mass was sticking to the walls as it went, where it passed through the plant-flesh and was absorbed. Silver felt his consciousness fade as his body was eroded away into nothing, a peaceful dream-like state taking hold and pulling his attention away from reality.

He fell into a stupor of not really knowing where, who, or even what he was anymore. There was a soft warmth, a spreading feeling of smooth curves. He felt bigger, as if he had been squashed flat and spread over a large surface, yet he could also feel depth to the strange form he had become. He did not move of his own free will, but a coordinated and rhythmic movement stretched and squashed him in turn, filling his foggy consciousness with an overwhelming sense of pleasure.

Withania pottered around her garden as she had started out her day. Silver Speck had left no more impression on her body than a slice of toast would have, but she smiled to herself all afternoon, thinking about the lewd drama taking place inside her body. It was hours later when she sat down on her work stool in the greenhouse and felt a strange tingle from her hips.

She stood up again, and the sensation flared up once again. Not a touch, nor a physical effect, but a strange emotional warmth. She stretched her hind legs luxuriously, looking down the curve of her flanks, and then sat down again heavily, watching her cutie marks squash slightly under the pudge of her hips.

“Hello there, Silver, I see you’ve arrived in the softest room I have to offer…” she murmured. She knew that Silver Speck wouldn’t be able to hear her, but she did know that every little movement of her soft flanks would now be his entire world. The idea excited her as much as the warming feeling, having another creature absorbed into her body in such a way. They were fully under her control, part of her, and entirely at the mercy of her own body’s emotions and hormones. And boy, would they be getting the most of it. It was times like this that she envied her own guests. She only hoped that she could pleasure him enough without him passing out too soon.

Her body often had its own ideas on how long to keep her guests, and she figured that a breezie wouldn’t exactly have a schedule to keep - so rather than deliberately condition her body to turn Silver Speck into a seed, Withania decided to wait for one to form of its own accord. Although two days later she was still waiting, which was unusual. She shrugged as she got up to find no seed in her bed or sense of fullness that indicated the imminent passing of one, and turned on the shower. Sighing under the stream of water, she didn’t even notice as a speck of something glanced off of her hind leg and was quickly washed down the drain.

The sensation of Silver Speck being held in her hip-pudge was gone, but Withania knew that he might just be forming into a seed still. She wasn’t even sure if this would happen as normal. Her pony-seeds would be larger than his entire body, so how exactly was this even going to work? Maybe he’d end up as a giant breezie. That would be neat in itself, she thought.

On the third day, Withania saddled up her bags to travel into town. Outside her garden’s rear gate was a small field of scrub that served as a border around this corner of town, and the first thing she noticed as she pulled the gate shut was a strange little blue flower in the sea of pale green grass.

“Is that…” she said aloud to herself, “Wait how did you get there?”

The flower was unmistakably a tegmen hybrid, her own species that reformed her guests - but they didn’t grow wild, the only ones where her own seeds she planted in the garden or in pots within her house. Unless this was a long-stay guest who had gotten lost, but then it was much too small. She trotted over to investigate. For a plant that was supposed to make a flower big enough to contain a pony, this little specimen was far too small - it was more like the size of the original Tegmen Flower she’d discovered and cultivated over a year ago that had started all this madness.

Withania glanced back up at her house, looking at the rear window where the bathroom would be. A pipe lead out from this room and down the side of the house - the wastewater pipe. At this end of town, Ponyville’s plumbing was less established. Her shower and sinks flowed into a pipe that carried the water off of her property to a soakaway, which was essentially an underground pit filled with rocks and stones to sink a large amount of water. It must’ve been directly under her hooves right now - Silver Speck’s seed had already come and gone without her notice, and must’ve washed away in the shower!

“Oh horsetail!” muttered Withania, bustling back into her garden to fetch a plant pot and a trowel.

Silver Speck opened his eyes blearily. He was laying curled up in the centre of a flower, soft and bobbing gently under his weight. The room around him came into focus, unfamiliar at first before he remembered that this was Withania’s kitchen. He leaned over the edge of the flowerhead and saw a terracotta plant pot below, and the dining room table. Relief set in. He had the strangest dream, first he’d been eaten, and then digested, and he’d been absorbed and become part of a full-sized pony, big and powerful. But then somehow he was being washed away, tumbling through water and down pipes into a cold blackness.

But he had regrown, as a flower he’d worked his way back up to the surface, and now he was back in Withania’s house, where it was quiet and safe. The plant pony herself was nowhere in sight, but Silver Speck didn’t mind. He could sit here a little longer, safe in his flower.