Giant Pinkamena

TAGS: Mean macro, giantess, pony, vore, crush, some destruction, vore, hoofplay, insertion, did I mention vore?

Might be missing some tags. I'm no expert on macrophilia tagging. Read at your own discretion.

Also, if the idea of Pinkie Pie being not-nice when her hair is straight, ala "Pinkamena" rustles your jimmies, don't read this. You won't like it.

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Home is where the heart is.
Tch. Anybody who bought into that obviously hadn't met the people he was living with. Frankly, he was happy to be working late for a change. Many of his fellow workers had already gone home for the day, but not him. He had a couple hours to go, finalizing his report on the company's annual expenditures, or something.
He had a window seat in his office building, allowing a nice view of the city and it's inhabitants going about their lives. He paused to watch the city life for a moment, hearing the wind outside, before turning back to his computer.

He works in the relative peace for a few minutes, the only sounds being the wind and his fingers clacking along the keyboard. When next he pauses for a breath and a stretch of his legs, he notices something. The wind, it was growing in urgency. He listened in as it steadily got louder, until it howled, like a gale. Then all at once, it ceased.

Was the weather forecast calling for heavy winds today? Last time he checked his phone it wasn't. That was a hell of a gust. He takes a last look at his computer screen, then looks out the window at the

Pink.

At first, he's not sure what he's seeing. Where once the window revealed a cityscape, there was now only a solid mass of dusty pink. The window had no blinds, inside or out. Confused at what he was seeing, he approaches the window. With some hesitance, he reaches out to touch it-

And then snatches his hand away just as quick! As if by his command, the instant he touches the glass there's a shriek from somewhere else in the building. That pink wall parts open, parts in the middle to reveal an inky pool of the deepest black.

He doesn't understand, until that round pool of jet contracts, revealing a ring of light blue at it's circumference.
Eye-
And that black pool is moving. It adjusts, focuses on him. MARKS him. The huge pupil contracts further, becoming a small spot of inky black floating in a pool of blue ice.

Mesmerized, he watches the eye pull back to reveal it's owner more fully. Though, that was putting it generously.

Immense. A face vaguely equine. But pink. So impossibly pink. Impossibly big. A cascading mane of dark pink flowed down around it's gargantuan face; long, silken and almost unnaturally straight, not a single strand out of place. The face narrows her eyes at the immobile human, scrutinizing this creature looking back at her.

Her ears pull back. She begins to smile. No, grin.
No, something wider, like the Cheshire Cat from that one book. Something toothy and far, far too happy to see him.

Run.

He takes one step back, but that's all he manages before the part of his brain controlling his feet locks up. The unsettling gaze of the impossible titan outside his office window holds him to the spot, like a deer in headlights. He is struck by sudden vertigo as the immense face draws in near again, giving him a last look before rising out of sight, and revealing the greater mass of pink rearing up, it's body.

Then the rumbles start. Two columns -two legs- rear back, then charge like twin meteors toward the building, toward HIM-

Those immense legs slammed through the wall as if it were made of paper. The impact literally rocks his world, putting him on his ass as he cries out, trying to shield himself as a hail of concrete chunks, glass and dust pelt him.

A deranged chorus of shouts and screams billowed in from the hole in the wall. A car alarm joins them when the pony shifts awkwardly, using her arms to sweep aside any obstructions between her and him. The desk he had sat at moments before becomes firewood, pushed aside with a brush of her hoof.

Then the arms retreat, and suddenly he was gazing back into the grinning face of the impossible, behemoth equine. That smile had not changed. It was almost a caricature of predatory glee, wide eyes boring into the frozen human before her, smile unnaturally vast and full of cannibal points.

Vertigo strikes yet again, he finds himself turning his head along with hers as her head tilts, goes sideways, and closes in, the jagged hole in the wall filling up with her equally jagged smile.

The teeth part, opening into the red, glistening interior of a maw wider than his whole body. Saliva, oozing and eager, spilled from the corner of the jaws that had become the wall. Following it was a muscle larger than himself, it too dripping with gooey saliva, reaching out toward him. The scream of the car alarm was the predominant sound in his ears as that tongue reached for him, reached out as if to politely inquire about his accommodations for this evening. He might have sat there and let that tongue engulf him. Might have let it wrap him up and pull him into the hot, wet unreality outside his window, but a dank, feverish breeze drifted from the gaping cavern behind it's tongue, carried by a hungry, longing sigh.

Something in this breeze broke his daze. Maybe it was the heat of it. Or, perhaps it was the vitality of it. The unmistakeable notes of an immense creature's breath, rolling over him like a tidal wave. In any case, it awoke some primordial, reptilian failsafe in his otherwise locked mind. He found his feet, chancing a last, terrified look at the voluminous muscle of wet flesh reaching for him before he ran.

There was a door ahead. It was marked by a sign: "Please use stairwell in case of fire."

It seemed so far, but it was his only way out. Legs like molasses, he lurched forward, transfixed on his escape.

He barely registers an annoyed huff coming from behind, but it was hard to ignore the thunderous double pound that erupted from both sides of the building, accompanied by the sounds of breaking glass. Screams from elsewhere in the building intensify as he was shaken to the ground, the cacophony of items toppling from desks and shelves all around.

From somewhere below, there is a heavy, wrenching groan that goes on and on as he get unsteadily to his feet. It rises in pitch as he clears the last few feet to the stairwell. He grasps the door handle, shoves it open, and has a moment's relief at seeing his escape. But then, that metallic groan becomes a shriek of twisting metal, abruptly cutting short with a resounding CLANG, like the pillar holding up the earth itself had given way.

All at once, the angle of the floor changed. No, the entire building! A look out an unbroken window shows the scenery outside beginning to tilt. The floor rocked beneath him, trembling before it began to slope away from the door, down toward-

Before he lost his balance, he leapt. Leapt and grabbed doorframe, hanging on as if life itself depended on it, as the building tilted further. Like some elaborate funhouse, the floor became a steep slope, and the stairway became a door shaped hole above him. The heavy sound of moving furniture and breaking glass roared below his feet. He chanced a look down, knowing what he would see before he even looked.

Outside, the behemoth, monstrous horse had awkwardly hugged the building and ripped the top half free from the bottom. She began to lift as fractured chunks of concrete, some the size boulders hailed down, flattening a car with a resounding crash.

Hordes of people were running, screaming, but the giant paid them no mind. She had her sights set on the defiant little prize inside this building. Struggling, she grunts with the effort as she tilted the entire half of the building back, pressing her muzzle against the largest of holes that were multiplying at an alarming rate as the ailing building's structure began to fail.

"Aaaah.."

Every human within hearing distance of the giga-pony's anticipating moan somehow found the wind to run faster.
Telephones, computer monitors, paper, pencils, desks, cabinets, potted plants, framed photographs, chairs, tables, and an assortment of concrete and glass debris came pouring from the broken wall all around the massive pony, but she goes on ignoring it all.


What he saw below him was the shredded hole in the wall, filled with a pink muzzle that had decided he was VERY interesting. It opens up again, tongue lolling out, greedy liquid pouring forth and soaking the carpet, turning it a deeper shade of blue.

"Aaaah.." The monsterhorse's uvula gently billows as she sighs her desire up at him, and her tongue extends out as far as it will go, reaching out to make his acquaintance. It seems as though his grip would slip and he would plummet. But then, sailing from further inside, still miraculously upright, is a computer chair. It goes skating by, headed down straight for the maw of the carnivorous horse.

Choke, she's gonna choke-

There's a clatter of plastic as the chair hits the threshold and tumbles into the drooling maw. The jaws snap shut, eliciting a jumbled grunt of surprise followed by a sputtering, hitching sound. She's choking! Saved! Saved he was saved and now he'd better pull his ass up before-

"Hrk... PTHOO!"

He screams as, rocketing from the behemoth's pursed lips, was a gooey, mangled chunk of fibers and plastic, slamming into the wall-turned-ceiling mere inches away from him. He jerks away from the point of impact, still shouting, reflexively trying to dodge the remains of a chair that had already missed him. And, in doing so, his fingers wrench free of their hold.

He hits what used to be the floor and begins to slide. There's an amused chuckle below. That muzzle is grinning it's terrible grin again, but as he descends, it parts one last time to claim it's prize. Silvery strands of saliva link the tongue and palette of the dire equine, swaying gently as her soft, warm breath billowed up.

The moment he passes those lips, tumbles onto the slick, undulating tongue, the temperature change is immediate and intense. As the giant tongue begins to roughly welcome him, he has enough time to see the looming wet throat of the impossible creature, which would serve as his only route down. The stairwell was not meant to be. Then, he is plunged into darkness.

On the outside, the monsterhorse unceremoniously drops the building's top-half, which was fast approaching the state known as "rubble," back onto the less ailing, but still hurting bottom half, eliciting a boom that could be heard miles away. There's a slow, metallic crunching as she seats herself on a wailing car. As her rear became mostly flush with the concrete, the vehicle chokes out one last, distorted warble before the alarm quits for good.

Her eyes are shut, and she makes pleased sounds around her mouthful. Tilting her head back as her lips part a bit, she exhales a steamy breath into the sky above. She holds that pose a moment. An observer moronic enough to not be taking to their heels, might have caught a glimpse of an arm, reaching up out of the maw.. before her enormous tongue slithered up, out, lithely curled around the arm, then slowly withdrew back inside. She wastes no more time, tilting her head back further and..

With a resounding gulp, she sends her first morsel on a one way trip. She stays seated where she is a moment, enjoying the afterglow of a successful catch. She sighs, smacking her lips, before raising a hoof to her muzzle to stifle a burp.

With that done, she looks about the world she had invaded. That manic look had left her face, replaced by an earnest wonder; eyes wide, curious, and a little lost. An ear flicks as, from somewhere in the city, a loud wail cries out, on and on, before gradually fading, and then repeating itself. It kept on doing this, over and over, and though she didn't know what it was, most any human would recognize it as an old air raid siren, presumably repurposed to warn about pony monsters.

She took it as her cue. Rising from her makeshift seat, she feels a few uncomfortable lumps sticking to her. The giant pony tries to see, creating thunder and pitted asphalt as she spins in a circle like a dog chasing her tail, but of course she cannot see her own backside. With an exasperated sigh, she uses her tail to blindly brush at the debris stuck to her rump. At last, she brushes it all away, the final piece being a license plate that clatters to the sidewalk behind her.

With no more humans in sight, (a scant few watched from windows of surrounding buildings, too afraid to go outside. A good decision) she sets off down the street, just barely wide enough to accommodate her.

At her size, she covers several blocks quickly. The streets seemed empty, and the few humans that were about avoided her eye, their small size playing to their advantage. She begins to think all the little things had disappeared, but when she turns a corner, some humans still unhidden see the source of all the commotion and a chorus of new screams rise as they scramble for cover.

All, save one. He hurries to open the trunk of his car as the titan approaches in the distance, trying to fight the rising panic being kindled by the crowds that went screaming and fleeing past. He gets the trunk open, hauls out a video camera, and fumbles to raise it up onto his shoulder and get the thing running. This was impossible. Incredible. Footage like this could set him on easy street for the rest of his life.

Struggling with the urge to drop the camera and run, he steps into the middle of the street as others flee past. He raises the camera, pointing it at the alien creature. Trying to keep the tremble out of his hands, let alone the one created by each of his subject's hoofsteps, he struggles to capture as much of it as he can onscreen.

The behemoth approaches in the distance, eyeing up the humans that fled, but taking her time. When she comes to an obstacle, she slows to consider. A cluster of abandoned cars choked the streets. She tries to step widely, around them, but

A jet of water rockets from the ground, startling a yelp from the giant, pink pony as her scampering hooves machine-gun up a patter of rumbles. She'd carelessly toppled a fire hydrant trying to maneuver.

She watches it warily from a few paces away, before taking a slow, tentative step, leaning in to inspect the thing that had scared her. She sniffs at it, cautiously,  blinking wonderingly at the mist that rolled from the geyser before deciding it was alright. With a hint of relief she grins to herself, pausing for a drink from the geyser and getting her face wet in the process.

Watching this unfold through a camera screen, rather than with his own eyes eases his urge to panic, a little. It's more like seeing something on a TV; it allowed him to detach. But, as he watches the thirsty pony abandon the geyser and continue on, he realizes something when the colors on the screen become more and more predominantly pink. She was still coming, straight toward him.

Lowering his camera, he is filled with a terrible awe, glued in place, as the creature overtakes more and more of his vision. The earth trembles under his feet as the very sky turns pink. He sees every detail; the seeking blue eyes, the creature's great, fuzzy chest, the taut pink belly, and the dark pink tail, hanging behind her, swishing lazily in tandem with her every step. A hoof as wide as a car looms up over his head, raining down tiny bits of debris from it's underside. As it comes down, he begins to scream, raising an arm as if to shield himself. One of the billions of steps she'd take, slamming down to end him without her even noticing.

Giving no sign of the human that had been underhoof, the god-horse carries on.

Bewildered, uncertain if he was dead or not, the man looks around before realizing that she had barely missed him. Mere inches from his feet was a hoof shaped groove in the pavement.

Hah. Haha. He begins to laugh, shrilly, disbelieving at his utter dumb luck.

Laughter?

The thundering hoofsteps that had been growing distant suddenly reverse. He's almost bowled over by a thick curtain of dark pink hair, before two columns of brighter pink come into either side of his vision. Then the sky itself goes rosy. Another great mass of that dark pink hair spills into the street, surrounding him with a tide of fuchsia foliage as the monsterhorse crouches, bringing herself face-to-giant-face with the man who's shrill laughter dried up as quickly as it came.

Her face is curious and inquiring. She watches him expectantly, as if waiting for him to do something, but he can do nothing but stare. Her expression turns uncertain, as if she'd imagined what she'd heard. Their staring contest goes on, him watching in a mix of awe and fear, her as if she was waiting for something. But, maybe she gets bored and an idea comes to her. Because she began to smile.
Her ears fold back. As her smile grows unsettling, she raises a hoof, dangling it's car-sized underside over his head. Those blue eyes now almost dare him to do or say something.

He tries to. Anything. But he can only sputter.

The human disappears as the pink behemoth brings her hoof down with a decisive boom. She twists it a few times, making certain to paste the insignificant creature beneath her. Without lifting her hoof to inspect her work, she stands back up, being sure to brace her weight on one hoof in particular. She sets her sights on some distant, fleeing humans, and gives chase.

A herd of them fled down the street, but their stride was no match for her utter size. Thunder grew and grew behind them. A shadow darted overhead. It was an earthquake as about a dozen people suddenly found their route blocked by two great columns of pink that crashed to the streets.

The few that didn't run headlong into the sudden blockade go sprawling, turning to find the grinning face of a madmare looking back at them. The creature had flung herself onto her belly and wrapped her front legs around as many fleeing humans as she could, capturing them in her enormous embrace.

Her eyes never remain on one, they flicker here and there, taking in each of them.

The cornered humans all made themselves as distant from that leering face as possible, pressing their backs against the surrounding legs that had become a wall, so tightly it was almost as if they believed they could phase through if they pressed hard enough.

That face began to move closer to the cornered bunch, closer. Some of the humans tried to scrabble up and over her cradling legs, but to no avail. One human however, moved closer. Before the face got so close it became impossible to maneuver, he intended to try and save himself.

The rest of the crowd continued to panic, claw at the legs and try to escape, as he reached into his coat and produced a revolver. They raised it at the gargantuan face, intending to shoot the behemoth in the eye. It might not do any lasting damage, but it might just give her enough of a surprise for her to move her legs and allow his escape.

The giant pony tilted her head, confused at the strange object this little creature was pointing at her. But as the hand holding the weapon began to move, thumbing back the hammer, taking aim at her eye and she peered right down the barrel, understanding dawned on her face.

Scrunching her eyes shut, she purses her lips and blows, hard as she can.

A gale rushes from her lips, staggering him. The gun goes off, the shot widely missing it's mark and striking nothing.

Missed. He'd missed. Those eyelids open again, each one as large as a window shutter, and those inky black pupils, floating in a frost-blue sea, descended on him immediately. She looked pissed.

Those giant, angry eyes were mesmerizing, like the gaze of a vengeful goddess. With some effort, he mentally shakes himself, snapping out of it and taking aim again. Meanwhile, the giant pony tilted her head, opening her maw, and moving in. Before he can manage another shot, the arm holding the gun is engulfed in pillowy soft flesh.

Her mouth, his arm was in her mouth..! He presses his free hand against her lips and pushes, trying to yank his arm out, but the pony holds him fast, and begins to suck.

He screams as the suction grew stronger. He pushed against her muzzle, struggling to get free as the monsterhorse's hot breath washed over him in waves. Inside, a great mass of slimy flesh rubbed and caressed his hand and arm, her tongue coating it in slick, hot saliva.
Some of the other humans watched, none daring to approach, while others struggled to climb over the legs, without much success.

The man caught in the pink monsterhorse's mouth tries to fire his gun, but the suction is intense, so intense it's almost as if it's going to pull his arm off; the gun was slipping, and it's all he can do to hold on. His one free arm is straining with the effort, it trembled before buckling against the immense suction, letting his other arm be pulled in a little more and slamming him against the thankfully soft muzzle.

He feels the muscles beneath her soft muzzle shift and move, trying to smile even as she sucked on his arm. Then, the gun is torn free from his slick hand. At that moment and all at once, she releases him, sending him sprawling onto his back with a pop and a little spray of saliva.

He lays where he fell, absently shaking some of the goo from his drenched arm, looking up at the enormous face. She had an inquiring look as her cheeks bulged out here and there, as if poking her tongue around. After a moment of this, she turns her head, and..

"PFOOEY!"

She spits some small, metal object out, sending it tumbling end over end, off into the distance and out of this story.

With a smug smile, she turns her attention back to the one human that had dared to stand against her. Her long tongue slinks out, messily wetting her muzzle. She begins to lean in. He scrabbles back, trying to get away, but her smiling muzzle presses down on him, trapping him between her and the pavement. She sniffs him, the air current making the warmth of her briefly cool, giving him an almost affectionate nuzzle before pulling away.

Her eyes flicker upward, toward the others behind her fallen enemy. With a last glance down at him, she leans forward again, but over him, the huge column of her neck overhead as her face reaches toward a point behind him.

The screams begin again with earnest. When the pony's giant head draws back into sight, there has been an addition. Sticking from the creature's jaws was a pair of kicking legs.

Looking down at the human who'd hauled iron on her, she flicks her head back, drawing the legs of her catch deeper into her mouth. Her eyes never leave him as the kicking pair of feet disappear inside, all while making large, exaggerated sounds of gluttonous delight. Then, with a slight strain, She tilts her head back and swallows, giving her quarry an unimpeded view of the titanic pony's throat working to swallow the hapless human down.

When the neck stills, she drops her head, sighing in delight, being sure to blow that breath over her stunned enemy and give him a partial view into the maw that was now empty.

He turned from the wet heat instinctually, scrunching his eyes shut.

She gives him a lopsided grin, pleased at his discomfort, but her nostrils flare and her eyes flicker to the others still pressed against her surrounding legs. She licks her muzzle and leans in for another.

Some of them fight. A man tries to punch and kick, batter her muzzle into retreat. It doesn't work. She gets her jaws around his torso, lifting him up. He screams his frustration, furiously attacking her muzzle with any part of him not pinned by her jaws, but she meets his violent efforts with her own. She shakes him, like a dog might a toy, her limp mane flying every which way. Once she's shaken most of the fight out of him, she casually flicks her head back, gently scoffing him. She took her time, sure to thoroughly sample his taste, before tilting her head back and leisurely devouring the subdued human.

Some of them plead for mercy. One person babbles pleas, their voice growing more and more frantic as the muzzle approached, parting to reveal it's sopping, fleshy interior. The monsterpony ignores her, greedily snapping her up, loudly smacking her lips and making "nom" sounds, drowning her food's voice out with her own, before the voice disappears completely following a wet, greedy gulp.

One tries to dive for the tiny space where her leg met her body, wriggling and shoving his way under. The pony allows it, trembling and making a face, before she began to giggle, then outright laugh. Seems she was ticklish. Halfway under, they get stuck. The giant pony grabs their legs in her mouth and pulls them free, if freedom could be had swallowed down a monsterhorse's gullet.

One person doesn't fight, beg, or try to run. They actually spread their arms to the approaching muzzle as if to say "get on with it." The monster pony stopped her approach briefly, quirking an eyebrow at her prey's demeanor. She eyes them as she leans in, as if expecting them to try and run at any moment, but they don't. In the end she obliges them, neatly devouring them without a fuss.

No matter what any of them do, they're all devoured, one by one, savored by the giant pony until they were all gone. All but one, the man who dared to use a weapon. She lets him lay where he fell, lets him watch as she eats the rest of his fellow prisoners.

When she finishes off the last one, she rolls over onto her back, being careful not to squish her last human not currently getting acquainted with her insides. She brushes against a building in the tight quarters of the street she lay in, breaking windows and putting huge cracks in it effortlessly with her lazy movement. She places a hoof on her belly, the barest hint of newfound pudge rounding it out. She rubs, softly sighing her contentment.

This is his chance to get away. With her legs no longer around him, he can run. Clambering up on legs that were numb, he begins to run as the giant pony aside him absently rubs her tummy with a hoof. A few steps in, and there's a rumbling coupled with the heavy flow of air marking an enormous, moving object, before a meteor falls on his head.

If Mike Tyson had rocket powered boxing gloves, and ambushed someone with a punch in the face, that was about one hundredth of what that impact had felt like. One moment he's on his feet and running, the next, he's on his stomach after the fucking moon crashed on his head. It's dark. Back and forth, the mass pressing down on his back starts to grind him against the concrete.

He grunts as he's rudely kneaded. His clothing is tattered and torn by the friction, heating up his chest and starting to burn, but before it becomes unbearable the mass lifts off him. Splendid cool air rushes to fill the gap, and he rolls over. Rising over his head is a great pink hoof. As it gets further up, it allows him to see that the rest of the world still existed behind that gargantuan hoof. Including the rest of his captor. She's lounging on her side now, propping her head up with an arm, looking down at her last captive with a smug mixture of amusement and curiousity.

Muttering, he sits up. Tries to stand up, but his heart skips a beat when that hoof begins to come back down. He watches transfixed as the world around it recedes, until nothing exists but her hoof. He sees every detail, every little bit of dust, every chunk of asphalt stuck to it's underside. And something else too. Something r--

With a surprising gentleness, her enormous hoof pushes him onto his back, burying him beneath it. With that same uncharacteristic gentleness, she caressed him. It might have almost been nice, but he wasn't stupid. She wasn't really gentle. After all, every time he tried to push against her, or sit up, she would push him back down. She goes on rubbing, gently prodding, and massaging him with her almost unnaturally soft hoof. In such close contact, he realizes that he can smell her. The immense hoof pressing him against the street carried a faint, unmistakeable scent of what you might expect from a foot, but that scent was intermingled with another. Either this monstrous pone had stepped in the world's biggest wad of bubblegum, or her body gave off that scent itself.

Cool air again when the hoof lifts. This time he's ready for it. Hurriedly he gets to his feet, but can only turn and clear a few paces before he is sandwiched. Two pink walls squash him between and show him the outside world in a vertical slot. From the limited view he has mashed between her front hooves, he sees the street drop from sight, revealing the pink, somewhat fuzzy mass of his captor's body. Up, revealing her neck, and atop that, her face. Her toothy, grinning face, slightly flushed and framed by that silken cascade of dark pink that served as her mane.

Those dual walls press tighter. Though he cannot see, the giant pony is eyeing him eagerly, expectantly, as she experiments with the amount of force she can put on him. Soft or not, he finds it nearly impossible to draw a breath as the hooves roll and mould him around. He tries to shout, but can only squeak. He struggles in her grasp, helpless and unable to stop her from crushing him between her hooves if she so desires.. but then it's as if a trapdoor opened beneath his feet. The hooves squishing him together are gone, and he can finally cry out as he plummets onto the pink surface.

He bounces a few times, but the last one is cut short by a descending hoof. Bearing down, it rubbed and kneaded him against the soft, warm fuzz below. Gradually, it began twisting, grinding. He growls in discomfort as he's roughly dragged back and forth over the thankfully soft surface.

As the kneading becomes intense, to the point of becoming suffocating, he barks out at her to stop without thinking, as if she'd understand him. Of course, she doesn't stop. But a melodic rhythm bellows from his host, he feels it shaking her body as well as he hears it. It's muffled, but, did she just chuckle?

He had heard her laugh before, but this was different. This was in response to words. If she can understand him, then that means
!
She stops rubbing, but the very breath is squeezed out of him as she presses down even harder. If it weren't for the softness beneath him, she very well might have crushed him then and there. Trying vainly to lift himself from being flattened, he stops dead when he hears a sound. A wet gurgle comes rumbling up from the pudgy warmth beneath him, and it's then he realizes just where she's pressing him.

He gasps for breath as the hoof lifts, smelling his captor's soft smell, trying to lift himself up from the monster's belly. But he is exhausted. Briefly all he can do is look up the rolling expanse of the pink monsterhorse's belly, and into the face of his indifferent captor.

A second gurgle drifts up from the soft tummy. She was blushing, even through all that pink, and there seemed to be a question in those blue eyes of hers.

Nope. Getting to his feet with a stagger, he pivots, breaking into a run down her belly. Her body shivered under him, shuddering at the sensation of his tiny feet running down her stomach. Otherwise, she did nothing to stop him. Never mind the enormous hoof that drifted behind him like a wrecking ball, tracking his every move.

A short distance later and he skids to a stop when a flaw in his plan reveals itself. The belly begins to slope downward. Sharply, too steep for him to keep his footing on the soft fuzz of the monsterhorse's coat. Trying to scale down would be nearly impossible unless he took it slow. Too slow to surprise his captor, too slow to e

AGH!

A freight train gives his back a nudge, and he cries out in surprise as he topples face-first onto the behemoth's soft body. He cannot stop his descent as he begins to slide down. The giant pony giggles, hind legs larger than a bus kicking at the ticklish sensation and gouging more holes in the nearby buildings. It jostles her human violently as he begins to slide faster. A hard bump bounces him airborne, and he plummets.

It was like sinking into a sea of pink-purple quicksand. He was enveloped in innumerable silky strands that mostly broke his fall. He tries to find a way out, but everywhere he grabs flexes, yields under his touch and offers no purchase. Up is unreachable, forward and backward is an endless expanse of pink foliage. Down is unyielding concrete. Everywhere hair; claustrophobic and rich with the scent of gum.

But the hairs start to move. They flex, tighten, become rigid as if they weren't nerveless hairs, but actual muscles. The intangible strands beneath him becomes taut, and then he's hurling skyward! Thrust up out of the forest of hairs, he counts six, seven stories on a nearby building before he falls back onto her tail.

Onto, not into. Her tail hair seemed to have a will of it's own, tightening up to keep him from plunging through, but still soft enough to break his fall.

He rolls over onto his back, groaning. If he still had his gun, he'd consider shooting himself just to be spared any more of this callous manhandling. As he sits up, he wonders why she couldn't have just eaten him.. like the.. others?

His horizon was the pink belly he'd slid down, his hostess' eyes peering over at him. The tail he lay upon snaked it's way toward her immense body, and it's down that tail his eyes had traced, and then caught.

Because, holy shit.

The silken pink strands he lay upon spread out with casual, slinky grace into the street behind him. In front, those strands came to meet at the dock of the tail that they grew from. And there, nestled at the base of that dock, between two soft, mountainous pink cheeks, was the wrinkled ring of puffy flesh that typically lay hidden behind all that dark pink hair.

A clear, wayward bead of fluid ran down from above, making the muscular ring twitch, tightening on itself before relaxing again as the droplet drifted over. It left a glistening, shiny trail behind before coming to a stop at the base of her tail, but it wouldn't be there long; soon the fluids would overflow.

For when he follows the glistening trail upward, the fuzz of her coat becomes more clumped together, damper around the spring from which it flowed. There was such heat pouring off.. out of her, it was nearly enough to make him sweat.  Uneasy but fascinated, he can't help but stare. The undeniably female monsterhorse's nethers were nearly his size, and very happy judging by how wet she was.

The puffy lips suddenly spread, exposing the excited, velvety interior before closing again, the wet, ambrosial heat of it wafting his way. In that brief look inside, he sees how easily it could engulf him. The fluids that ran freely from it's interior would make sure of it. He sees how that casual gesture, almost like a wink, could crush him in an instant.

He would have gone on staring, transfixed and unaware of his growing arousal, but there was movement beneath him. The tail that served as the floor was starting to rise, taking him with it. With alarm he realizes it's beginning to slant, and getting ever steeper. And that slope led down, ending with the monsterhorse's excited sex. The tail even began to form into a 'U' shape around him, so as best to guide him.

No way, no fucking way. There was a small space, a gap, between her massive spread legs and her tail. A gap that showed sweet concrete below, something human and sane. He rolled as he began to slide, rolled sideways to throw himself over and into the gap, down to the street and the first step toward getting the fuck away from this monster pony. In his roll he catches a wild, dizzy glimpse of his captor's face. The malice was gone, replaced by a dreamy expression. A NEEDY expression. He comes to a jarring halt when he hits a wall, and as the slope gets steeper and he begins to really slide now, he sees what stopped him.

She brought her legs together. Just enough so those haunches ensured he couldn't escape. He tries to stop his descent by grabbing the tail, but it's too fast and there's too little time. He has enough time to right himself and face the unapologetically enormous lips, getting closer and more impressive by the second, and then it's spreading itself open again. Spreading to reveal it's equally pink interior, slick and eager. His feet hit the base of her tail and he's thrown forward.

When he hits the soft, sensitive flesh he's dazzled by the impact. His arm is sunk into a hot sleeve and his legs slam into an irregular mound of flesh. He's vaguely aware of her twitching to the tune of a moan somewhere above. The first sense that gets through his daze is the immense heat. And then the scent. It was a musk that might have been light, a mingled scent of sugary bubblegum contrasted by an earthy tang. But, at his size? It encompassed his senses, wafting out at him in a steady rhythm as his arm was gripped squeezed, gripped, squeezed, the immense squeeze actually cutting off his circulation with the force of it. He cries out when his feet briefly leave the ground beneath him.

That rhythm on his arm wasn't just squeezing, it was pulling. Hot, syrupy flesh closes over half his torso, coming away again with a soft sound not unlike velcro, leaving a wet, sticky coolness behind. His arm was inside her again.

He tries to pull free, but hot muscles grasp his arm and tug him off the ground once more. His feet only touch the ground when the grip she has on him allows it. Sweet hell, she had such control of the muscles inside her. His entire arm was encased in fragrant, wet flesh that refused to let him go. Every little squirm and struggle he made elicited a twitch or a gasp, and further coated him in the musky secretions that drooled from her. But, she was so slick. He felt sure he could pull himself out.

He slaps his other hand down onto the quivering flesh and draws up a leg to assist in the pull. There's a breath being moaned in the heights above, he feels it vibrating the hot muscles around his arm.

His hand sinks into the pliant, pink surface of her vulva as he pushes, trying to pull his arm out. She's reluctant to give him up, but he pulls. His grunt of exertion grows into a roar as he yanks with all his might.

His captor whimpers gratefully; there's a crash as one of her gigantic hind legs twitches into the nearby building. A section of it collapses into rubble around her hoof, but she betrays no sign that she cares.

The slippery secretions of this mare made getting any grip on her nearly impossible, but it also made her own grip less certain. His arm slips out, just a little, and he redoubles his efforts, sensing freedom. With an awkward leap, he presses both feet against the wrinkly button of pronounced flesh beneath her marehood, and puts all the weight he can muster behind this tug of war. But, his gruelling pull halts when a wall presses against his back and insists that he return his arm, and maybe more. She was shoving him forward with her hoof, and he could do nothing but be pushed. Her grip loosens as the wet lips gape open, this time to accept him. Then the hoof bears down like never before.

He screams before he is squashed, and then the pressing hoof begins to rub and grind him against her humid folds in vaguely circular rhythms. He can't breathe! Futilely he struggles, quickly surrendering to panic. Violently pressed and rolled, only the hot, frictionless moisture saved him from winding up as more lube for her busy hoof.

And that was still going to happen if he couldn't stop her. He screams again between gasps for air, gasps rich with the scent and taste that was his entire world. He tries to bite her, but she only responds with a pleasantly startled mewl.

He has no choice; being rubbed against her again and again, he feels only one direction that offered the barest relief from the trauma of the pony's masturbating hoof. Inward.

Up, down, back and forth, each rhythm grows more urgent. He curls his legs up under him, and when her hoof begins back upward for another pass he half shoves, half dives.

There's a wet 'schlp' as he dives into his hostess' cunt, engulfed in spasming flesh that accepted and repelled him in equal measure. The response is immediate. She cries out louder than any human, alarm or siren could ever hope for. Windows that miraculously weren't yet broken rattled in their shutters. The pink monsterhorse's legs are thrown wide, carelessly tearing the roof off a car and demolishing another building wall.

Her breathing quickens, and in her wet, clenching muscles, he can feel her pulse doing the same. Her vigorously working hoof picked up it's pace. Irregular light shone in with every pass of her hoof, revealing flashes of pink, glistening velvet before darkening again.

He can barely move, let alone breath, but then the walls that threatened to suffocate him relaxed enough to allow a lungful of the dizzyingly hot air. Her masturbating hoof ceases crushing his legs for a moment to clumsily reposition them, and then she pushes.

The velvety, wet walls caress him as her hoof guides the rest of him in. Any hints of light quickly disappeared. It is so stiflingly hot; though he cannot tell for how wet it is inside of her, he begins to sweat.

Another moan vibrates the walls around him. Her steadily quickening heartbeat can be heard now as well as felt; a dull, heavy, thudding rhythm that punctuated the clenches of the wet walls around him.

The circular rubs of her enormous hoof began anew when any semblance of cool air around his feet disappears. It is replaced with hot, aromatic flesh that clenched and squeezed him. Even as her vulva consumes him entirely, she still presses from the outside, trying to work him in deeper. Her muscles assist, powerfully but inexpertly contracting around him. It's very hard to tell, but he is sure she's still drawing him in, the sounds of her hoof's vigorous, sloppy work getting more muffled.

For a few long moments, all he can do is experience her body's inside. The sound of her relentless heart, her heavy breathing. The gentle rocking within her, contrasted by the frightfully strong clenches that tugged on him and took his breath away. The slick fluid, rich with her essence. And the utter darkness that existed inside this giant pink pony. He felt very small.

He hears every breath. Muffled by the leagues and leagues of flesh between them, each one was accompanied by an almost involuntary whimper of joy. And with each breath came the clenching of her inner walls. He tried to force them back, but it may as well have been like trying to lift the moon. Each squeeze refuses to give him even the barest respite.

The body around him began to quiver as the moans reached a crescendo. A particularly strong clench constricts his breath from him, but unlike the others, it doesn't let up. It goes on squeezing and squeezing. Long seconds go by. His lungs ache for air as he listens to his captor use hers for great, whooping pants of pleasure. He cannot push himself out, his hands slip and slide on her powerful but slick inner walls.

This is it. Despite his efforts, he feels himself fading. He's going to be crushed inside some giant pony's snatch.

Then the walls surrender an inch, he gets an inch. He gasps for what breath he can; a small lungful of the thin, hot air, rich with the wet scent of her all around him. It reignites his senses and sends him into an hysteria. That had been too close.

He grunts with the exertion, his voice muffled by the oppressive confines. He struggles hard against the walls, kicking, trying to force himself backward. Blindly clawing, wriggling, trying to throw his weight backward and out of her.

"Ohhh..!"

He hears her clearly, even from within. As her moan tapers off, she sucks in wind and looses another, higher in pitch than the last. The rubbing hoof outside that he can still vaguely feel through his feet, begins to rub faster.

"Ohhhh...!"

The walls twitch before they make the tight space even tighter, squeezing him again, enveloping him in hot, quivering wet flesh. The precious air he had just regained was squeezed out again, and the walls would not let up. They only vibrated against him, far too tight to allow a breath. He senses his last chance to escape her alive. He is exhausted, can hardly breathe, but he does not let up on struggling.

She allows herself another moan and the rubbing hoof increases to a frenzied pace. The gravity inside her changes, and he is shaken as thunder rumbles outside. The giant pink horse has thrown herself onto her back, putting more cracks in the street, toppling a power line and snapping the cable, which crackles and sparks before settling onto the curb.

The walls clench on him harder than ever before, and he feels his strength begin to leave him, like water pouring from a hole shot into a bucket. The constant heat, thin air, the endless squeezing and pressure was taking it's toll. And this time the walls weren't letting up. His senses begin to surrender themselves, input fading and getting hazier. He struggles, squirming all he can but it's futile. Turns out the inside of a giant pony's marehood was a very hostile environment. Imagine that.

He kicks another time as her breathing become feverish in pitch, before he passes out.

Outside she howls her approval, her rubbing hoof practically a pink blur. But, she abruptly stops, pressing her hoof against the top of her honey-slicked nethers. She throws her head back, panting in sweet agony and trembling as she baths her tail and the streets before her with an immense spurt of clear, hot fluid. Her tongue lolls out as she lovingly gasps for air, her sticky hoof giving a few last parting rubs before flopping down next to her as she basks in the afterglow of her enthusiastic workout.

No one goes near the giant, happy horse laying in the street. The town looked deserted. Still the sound of a warning siren goes on and on, it's cry interspersed with the slowly evening breaths of the threat it was warning of.

-

Warmth. Wetness. Movement. Cold air.

Cold air! Something in him revives as the cool outside air washes against him. It contrasts the wet, hot folds he slides from, slipping out backward as the monsterhorse gives birth to his limp, exhausted form. He takes a grateful breath of the musky air, rich with the giantess' endeavors.

When all that remains inside is his arms, his wet, sticky form begins to slowly slide down, eliciting another twitch from a giant pink leg that served as a wall of his prison. He slides down her drooling folds, then slowly drifts over the puffy ring of puckered flesh just below. He comes to rest at the base of her tail, that puffy ring looming just above. He can only lay there and breathe the feminine air, too battered, too exhausted to get up.

The air outside her is cold on his wet body. He begins to shiver, numbly trying to press himself deeper into the dock of her tail, trying to recapture some of the warmth that he had cursed only minutes before. It was warm. Consciousness wavered in and out. He only knew he was exhausted, he was cold, but it was warm here and he knew that he wanted to sleep. But there was something else, some tickle at the back of his mind. Something important, what was it?

He's startled out of semi-sleep when the tail he's resting on shifts underneath him. He lifts himself up on tired arms, eyes wide and now fully appreciating the massive set of pink glutes that he found himself partially between. The behemoth shifts slowly, careful not to crush him as she shifts into a sitting up position. He watches his bed, the dock of her tail, move beneath her as she sits up, and weakly he struggles to not be dragged by the tail hairs under that massive pink ass.

When his strength gives out and he flops onto his back, the tail has thankfully stopped moving. His gaze is drawn upward into the giant pink monsterhorse's face, blocking the late afternoon sun, smiling smugly down at him. That face said it all. She wasn't finished with him. She was not just going to treat him to some ice cream and send him on his way.

He screams when, all at once, she gets to her hooves, making the very earth itself tremble. She crouches down on all four hooves, her enormous face looming toward him. Numbly he watches those huge blue pools get closer, her smile getting bigger, and so he almost doesn't notice one of her huge hooves encroaching upon his peripheral, reaching for him.

He tries to get away but her size made it such a distance. He can barely get up, let alone run. Her hoof bends around him, gently pinches him between hoof and leg, and lifts him up.

She rises into a sitting position, and with a cool smile she draws him in toward her face. He was wet and sticky and exhausted. She seemed pleased by all this as her eyes roam over him, inspecting her handiwork. Tentatively at first, she leans in, nostrils flaring delicately as she takes in his scent, now intermingled with her own.

He squirms in her grasp, trying to push her hoof away, but it doesn't budge even an inch. Her size alone made her immensely strong, she doesn't seem to even notice his efforts. Her saccharine scent is wafted his way by her swaying mane as she looks around, left and right, as if to see if anyone is watching. Satisfied that they were in relative privacy, she leans in again for another sniff, or at least that's what he first thought.

Adrenaline floods his bloodstream, bringing strength to his weary body, as her mouth opens and a tongue the size of a phone booth slips from between the giant's lips. He presses on the hoof around him, leaning back as far as he can before the slick muscle catches up and buries him. He sputters and twists, trying to get away but he can't. Her bumpy tongue runs over him, giving him a fresh coat of fluids to mix with what he'd already bathed in. The only consolation is that it offered some warmth to his cold, wet body.

It is a small consolation indeed when the tongue pulls back and he wipes some of the drool from his eyes. What he sees is the slightly parted lips of the giant horse, tongue retracting, smacking her lips to better sample the marinated human. Judging by the warm wind that sighed out, judging by the favoring look in those blue eyes, he could only guess that she liked it. There's an audible gulp as she swallows her sample.

Rising. The great pillar of her arm (leg?) lifts him up, over her head. She adjusts her grip on him with surprising dexterity; he slips, and screams as he thinks he's being dropped, but she catches him by the foot at the last moment, and now he's hanging upside down.

He takes a disorienting look at his feet, hanging in the grasp of the giant pony, the blue sky glimpsed around the edges. And below, where the blood was already rushing to his head, he sees the vertigo-inducing height down to the street. But, he was not suspended over the concrete.

Her eyes, those giant icy pools, regard him distantly, looking at him the way one might look choosing a live lobster for their first time. She wets her lips, and then the maw that had engulfed all those people before opens again, this time for him.

After all this, all she had put him through and she still intended to punish him further. Everything else wasn't enough for her. He struggles in her grasp, straining his stomach muscles, trying to reach up to his feet.

Steamy air drifts up and bathes him in it's warmth, it's departure marked by the return of the chill that hounded his wet form. That steamy caress carried the unmistakeable scent of a living creature's breath. It awoke a distinct, imminent terror that lives in the most basic part of the brain. It was the same fear that all of humanities ancestors ages ago had lived aside so intimately. The fear of being mere sustenance for another.

He cannot reach his feet and lets himself dangle again, daring to look down into the pink, drooling maw. Her wet, eager tongue was reaching for him. The dark curvature of glistening shadows marked her throat and the depths beyond. There was no way out of it. He opens his mouth to scream, to yell for help, but instead out comes something he hadn't expected.

"You bitch!"

Her mouth closes into a little circle of surprise, genuine surprise, and not the cool, smug expressions she had lavished upon him so far. Soft blue eyes that betrayed not an ounce of her cold-blood looked up at him with that same honest surprise.

She blinks a few times, her baby blues still regarding him nakedly. But then her eyes close merrily, and she grins. Giggles. Actually fucking giggles before she opens her eyes again, and more alarmingly, her mouth, looking at him with a note of farewell in her eyes.

He had to get her to talk. She laughed at being called a bitch, and that had reminded him of before. He'd shouted at her to stop. Hadn't she laughed then, too? She had. She understood his speech, he didn't know why or how and didn't care. He needed her to say something, anything at all to confirm she wasn't just some strange animal behemoth with a taste for human. Something capable of speaking can be reasoned with.

Looking down into that widening, wet chasm, drooling and eager to offer him a permanent partnership between he and her, there was no time like the present.

"Talk! Say something!" he stammers.

"You can talk- I know you can! So say something!" Those flimsy strands of saliva stretch between the widening gap of her maw, and the foot in her grasp slips just a little. "Say anything!!" He shrieks.

He almost can't believe it when she lowers him, cradling him in the crook of her front leg. Once again the callous look is dropped. Her light blue eyes are on him, wide and charming. He'd never have guessed that there was an undisclosed number of people stewing in her gut right now, if he hadn't seen her put them there with his own eyes.

Her eyes search his face a moment, as a sofa-sized ear flicks atop her head. The dusky pink veil of her mane sways this way and that as she looks around the rubble strewn streets, up one and down another. Blinking, she sniffs the air delicately, taking a last look around, as if checking to make sure nobody was watching.

Satisfied, she turns her attention back to him and tugs him close. Some of the frost returns to those blue eyes before her approaching muzzle demands his attention. She cradles both of her arms around him, cupping him so gently to her, making certain that he could not fall. He cannot take his eyes off those massive lips. Her wispy, hot breath bathes him as she whispers:

"So far, you're my favorite."

He knew it! She talks! He's amazed by what that means, an intelligent creature other than humans, and opens his mouth to ask her what she was doing here, who she was, and most importantly, let him go, but all that comes out is a raspy scream as he's rocketed upward, the g-force pressing the words out of him. She's not holding him anymore, he's flying up.. up. The buildings and remains of buildings soar past him, before he reaches the top of his arc. There's a timeless moment, airborne and looking down at the pink pony, as she sits, looking up at him expectantly.

As he begins to plummet, the winds ruffling his hair and chilling his sopping body to it's core, the pink pony licks her chops. Then, almost lazily, her muzzle parts to reveal the wet inside, offering him the same journey that she had bestowed on all the others. Like the humans before him, there was a party in her mouth, and he was invited.

"Aah.."

He has time to suck in a breath and try to scream before he plunges into her. Like a crocodile, her jaws snap shut the instant he hits her tongue, plunging him into darkness with a heavy clamp. The broiling maw overwhelms, smooth, sopping flesh closing in eagerly as the behemoth sucks her prize, tasting him as well as herself.

She moans at the taste, the vibrating sound of it nearly deafening from the inside. The tongue undulates under him, shifting liquidly, rolling and prodding him. Every pass of the tongue, every little movement bathed him in a tide of sweltering, gooey saliva that came from everywhere. There's no escaping it, he can't even shout or speak, only sputter as she slicks every iota of him with it.

Thrown, tossed, rolled, rubbed, compressed and nibbled in the fleshy, viscous, lightless chamber. It is disorienting, and humiliating, to be rendered helpless with something as petty as a flick of her tongue. It was so gooey and so hot in her mouth, he felt like he was melting. The air inside her is stifling. His cold body is replaced by a growing need to cool down. He's not even sure which way was the way out anymore. The wet flesh presses in as her mouth suctions him tight. He feels some of the excess saliva slip away and he hears a deep, ponderous 'GLP' bellowing from deeper inside.

He wipes at his eyes and shakes his head, trying to gain his bearings
"Mmmmmmh..."
as everything begins to slant, and as it slants his sopping, frictionless form begins to slide, face first. A gust of steaming, frothy air, rich with the scent of the monsterhorse's breath washes over him from the slope he slid down.

No. No no no NO. He claws at the rough but incredibly slick surface, eyes wide and blind in the lightless mouth, only knowing he was getting closer. He feels every individual tastebud slip beneath his hands, giving no purchase. He flops over, managing to turn around, clawing at the slope, but there was no helping it.

"Haaah.."

Light trickles into the slimy furnace, hurting his eyes. Above is a white-blue gap, surrounded by the silhouette of her teeth and sprawling tongue. The light shows him just how deep he was, literally. The drooling interior of her maw was tilted upward, showing him the way out. The light is the way out. He can barely see his own hand as he reaches, trying to find anywhere to hold on the slippery surface.

As quickly as it appeared, the gap closed. He screams as her flesh closes in around him, squeezes, and sucks. No, pulls, pulls him down. A torrent of saliva assists his descent, and as he slips beyond the point of no return, her throat muscles open to accept him. With great efficiency, they clasp and squeeze him down as a deep gulp booms in his ears, and he is accepted into her body, to join the others in the monsterhorse's greedy stomach.

As her last morsel settles in for his stay, the pink horse sits where she caught him, licking her lips, trying to get a lingering hint of that interesting flavor. Her belly was just slightly pronounced, a bit pudgier than normal. She gives it a few appreciative pats, caressing the smooth, fuzzy pink pudge.

After a mostly peaceful moment, her muzzle scrunches up and she feels just a little bit of the fullness relent when

"BUUURP!"

The belch drowns out the warning siren for a second, and the pony covers her mouth with her hooves, eyes wide, before remembering she was alone. Grinning sheepishly, she drops her hooves. Actually, that burp made her feel a bit less full, like maybe she could eat a little more.

And, speak of the devil. Out of the corner of her eye, she spies something spying back at her, peering around the corner of a mostly intact building. She almost doesn't register what she sees; they're gone so fast upon realization that they've been spotted. But the slap of their fleeing shoes on the pavement makes her ear turn toward it, and confirms that she did, in fact, see a tiny thing watching her, if only for an instant.

With a hint of sluggishness, she gets to her hooves, stifling another belch and trotting along after them. She had something she wanted to show them.

-

The screen flickers snowily as the image wobbles, glimpses of buildings between the nauseating pitches. Tumultuous sound compliments the chaotic imagery: screams, a heavy alarm, deep tremors.

A couple slaps of the television's side does nothing to alleviate the poor footage. An elderly woman looks up from her book, casting a weary glance her husband's way as he abuses their idiot box.

The frantic swaying of the picture settles somewhat, growing clearer as the view swivels upward, revealing the source of those great rumbles. Something big, something pink.

He squints. "What the heck is this..?"

The picture begins to wobble again as the camera backs away from the approaching behemoth, but the cameraperson's stride is nothing compared to their subject's. With only a city block between them, the creature's huge blue eyes lock onto the person filming, making it appear as if she were also looking right at the viewer.

It begins to smile widely, revealing a grin full of too many teeth as the gap between subject and picture-taker gets ever smaller. As the picture begins to look less like a city, and more like a huge shifting mass of pink, the camera turns upward. Framing the edges of the view was a halo of dark pink hair, and in the center was the great monster's face, those eyes of blue looking down.

The creature's tongue begins to slip out from the corner of the mouth before the picture lurches. There's a clunk and a burst of static, and when the picture clears one can see a pair of sneakers --no-- legs. The camera was laying on it's side, still capturing what was, presumably, the cameraman's legs.

The feet tremble where they stood a moment before taking off in a run. They don't clear many paces before a torrent of shady pink hair falls into view.

"Om!"

There's a muffled shout and the legs are lifted from the street, kicking wildly, up, up and out of the camera's sight. The pink hair bobs up and down. A familiar sneaker falls back onto the street, followed shortly after by a glob of some clear fluid. The hair ascends out of view, and then there's a sound, like a pulse. The sound was unusual, but somehow familiar.

The camera goes on filming only a moment longer; The footage is engulfed in shadow and there's a profound cracking sound. The lens of the filming camera cracks, segmenting the entire image. The cracking sound grows harsh in the television's speakers for a moment as the picture pinches together, before cutting out entirely.

Replacing the image is a primly dressed man, a neat pile of papers before him, a sober look upon his face.
"Reports coming out of Mangerson at this time are conflicting, but most accounts agree the crisis began appr-"
With a derisive sniff, the old man switches the television off.

"Can you believe the crap they're playing on TV nowadays? I'll just bet this is some ridiculous publicity stunt. Tryin' for more tourists."
"That's what it probably is dear." She offers, before turning her attention back to her book.

He takes a seat in the armchair beside his wife, unfolding the newspaper he'd laid in the seat and scanning the page. Absently he reaches for his coffee, taking a sip before grimacing. It was ice cold, he got all caught up watching that drivel on TV.

He sets it aside, giving his mug one last irritated look before turning his attention back to his.. paper?

He leans over toward his cup of mud, giving it a second, more thorough look. It was moving. Almost unnoticeably, but the ripples had a rhythm, they kept repeating themselves every few seconds. Narrowing his eyes, he focuses. With every ripple of his iced coffee he felt the barest of trembles in his feet.

He lowers his paper, half-turning toward his wife.

"Hey, Marge? Do you feel that?"