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ART TRADE with Penny!
(CW: Vore)
Her half of the Art Trade is the accompanying piece story below!

The great Iaret, Serpent Empress of the Nile, Paragon of the Old Gods, defender of the ancient faith, and devourer of the profane, sat upon her great obsidian throne. Before her, a small coterie of servants dressed in diaphanous silks presented her with fine foods, fanned her to better preserve her from the oppressive desert heat, or worked scented oils into her skin with practiced fingers.

Bakari, first among her hunters, could feel Her Eminence’s gaze upon him. Despite his high station, it was a rare honor to attend to his queen during her feasts. Normally, it was his duty to patrol her lands for the servants of the False Queen, blasphemers, and other such undesirables to bring before her. He took his duty seriously and had enough pride in his worth that he did not take the chance at every apprehended sacrifice to prostrate himself before the Great One. To some, service meant basking in Her presence. But to Bakari, he knew his role was best served on the front.

Today? Today was an exception.

“Your Eminence,” he said, bowing his head and prostrating himself upon the warm stones. “I bring tidings.”

Above, the jackal serving the Great Empress grapes paused as she held up a hand. “You may speak, hunter,” she said, plucking a grape from the golden dish herself before the jackal bowed and moved away.

“If it please Your Eminence,” Bakari said, raising his head to behold her majesty. “We have captured a being we believe to be in service to the False Queen. A dire creature, more powerful than the unworthy servants she dares to send upon Your lands. My hunters took many losses, but by Your Grace, we were able to bring her down and bind her, to present before You.”

Iaret raised a golden brow. “You are First Hunter Bakari, are you not?”

The hunter tensed, feeling a jolt of joy at being so acknowledged. “I am, Your Eminence.”

“It is rare I see you in my halls,” she said, though nothing in her tone implied rebuke. “I’m curious to see what sort of prize was so noteworthy that you deemed it necessary to pause in your service.”

Bakari bowed his head. Of course. He could not hide his heart from her. “Your Eminence. Perhaps it is best if I showed you.” He made a sharp gesture, and one of the guards standing beside the doors to the throne room nodded. She left and returned shortly with a small group of well-muscled furs, straining on ropes to pull a great cart. Bound atop it, claws and fanged maw held tight by iron chains, was a dragon.

Iaret sat up.

She was aware that such things existed, of course. But even in her own timeline, dragons were rare. And this one? It was unlike some of the other creatures of that kind that were stored in her databanks.

Most dragons, she recalled, were lithe, aerodynamic things. Natural predators built for speed and sharp movements. The dragon before her was, well, there was no other word for it, fat. Her scales were a rich dark red, interspersed with dark black stripes like a tiger’s hide. And to Iaret’s gaze, something else seemed to flare. Something…curious.

Long experience with the occult had trained her to be able to detect the auras of fiends of all sorts. Them, and real divinities. And the dragon before her had a blend of both, even if both were faint.

“She’s getting bold, or desperate, sending a demon after me.”

“Your Eminence?”

Iaret shook her head. “Nothing. Tell me, hunter. How did this thing come to be on my lands?”

Bakari bowed again. “She arrived by land, Your Eminence. Declared that she wanted to confront the…” he hesitated, his entire body going rigid. Iaret frowned.

“Speak,” she said.

He winced. “To confront the ‘overfed crazy snake Debbie told me about’ were the words it spoke.”

Iaret’s eyes narrowed, and she turned her attention to the dragon. Bound as her maw was, she couldn’t speak. What she could do was glare daggers at Iaret. So that was the source of the divine edge to the creature’s soul. Of course.

Iaret snapped her fingers, expending a touch of will and allowing the tiniest fraction of the Power Cosmic to manifest. The chains around the dragon’s muzzle hissed and snapped, falling aside with a metallic clatter. The servants around the cart backed away instinctively as the dragon led out a snort of black smoke, raising her head to glare at Iaret.

“Big mistake,” she said, and breathed a plume of flame directly at the Empress. A move Iaret had anticipated. Another manifestation. A gesture and a sibilant hiss in the tongue of the immortal. And the gout of flame vanished with a shimmer. The room was silent, servants regarding their queen with terrified expressions, the dragon’s face a mix of shock and anger.

Iaret merely laughed.

“You are a bold one, I’ll admit. It isn’t often someone dares to attack me directly. Especially not when they’ve already been restrained. I’ll be magnanimous, however, and read your boldness as a compliment to the threat I pose.”

“Screw you,” the dragon said. Gasps rang put across the room. Bakari flinched, his hand going to the sword at his waist.

Iaret merely hummed, thoughtful. “Tell me, creature. What is your name?”

The dragon’s glare intensified. “Penny Redburrow. Your worst nightmare.”

Iaret laughed. A rich, deep belly laugh that made the contours of her enormous body jiggle from the force of it. “Child, I’ve seen more frightening things in the leavings of the palace cats. Well, Penny of the Clan Redburrow. You should be honored. Today, you shall be a sacrifice. You will be blessed for your courage and added to my magnificence.” Iaret gestured to her form, a serpentine body fattened enormously by hundreds of prior sacrifices, glistening with oils, her golden cybernetic components gleaming and bright.

“Like hell I will. Wait until I get out of here,” the dragon grunted, flexing her muscles and straining against her bonds, “and I’ll make sure your reign of terror ends.”

Iaret chuckled. “You are a fiery one. Yes, I do believe you’d be worthy. I will enjoy devouring you, my dear. Such a spirit empowering my form? My enemies have sent me a gift. You should be honored. In fact, I will even allow you to live as I swallow you, so you can enjoy becoming something grander than yourself.”

“Fuck you!”

But though the dragon strained again, Iaret heard a slight stutter in her voice. Her tongue flickered out, and she tasted the air, and what she found only added to her amusement.

She smelled it, clear as day. Though it was far too faint for her servants to detect, the dragon’s anger was tinged with something else.

Excitement. Lust.

“Struggle all you like,” Iaret said, lowering her voice, allowing it to become smooth and rich. “You’re strong, that I can see. But not as strong as I. Once I have you in my belly, all your strength will avail you nothing. You will be smothered in my coils, constricted and devoured. Made part of me, whether you will it or not.” And as she spoke, the scent of the dragon’s arousal sharpened. Though to the untrained eye, her anger seemed only to grow, there was a hesitation to her struggles. Curious. Delightfully curious.

Iaret made a sharp gesture to a servant, and they dashed out of the room, only to return bearing a delicate curved blade, as golden as Iaret’s headpiece. “Do you know why they call me Iaret, dragon? It is because I am as potent as a rearing cobra. My venom, should it pierce your scales, would stop your heart in an instant. But I am merciful. Instead, you shall taste but a fraction. A poison of my own design, to weaken you for a time. It wouldn’t do for you to distract me while I swallowed you, after all.”

She rose, her great bulk slithering down to stand before the dragon as her servant proffered the blade to her. She felt a giddy touch of excitement, mirroring the dragon’s own, as she realized just how large the dragon was. They were nearly of a size to one another. Even after years of gluttony and devouring sacrifice after sacrifice, it would be no exaggeration to say this beast would be by far the largest thing she had ever consumed. The idea of such a feat was…invigorating.

She held the dagger, and with a deft motion, slashed it against the dragon’s left shoulder, leaving a sharp but shallow gash. The dragon gasped in pain, but even in that brief instant the modified venom began its work, freezing the muscles of her arms and legs. “Unbind her and turn her face away. I wish to devour her tail first, so she may savor this honor.” Iaret grinned as she smelled the dragon’s lust, tinged now by the odor of fear. Her servants did as she commanded, and ropes and chains tumbled free. The dragon, now fully in the grips of the poison, did not budge despite her sudden freedom. Iaret’s jaw clicked as she prepared herself for such a meal, and then got to work.

Though the tail fit easily, from the moment Iaret me the dragon’s legs, she felt a sudden tinge of apprehension. This thing was huge. Almost as big as her. Not quite as wide, certainly, but very close. And though she knew her maw and gullet were up to the task, she winced as she strained to expand enough to begin swallowing. She grabbed the dragon with her powerful arms and pulled. The creature was heavy, and even rendered limp by the venom, it was hard going. But if anything, the pain and the struggle seemed to make the effort all the sweeter. Especially when, despite the creature’s sounds of futile struggle, she could tell some part of Penny Redburrow was enjoying this.

The meal was work. Normally, she would gulp her sacrifices down in an instant, or as quickly as she could manage. Though going slow was its own sort of bliss, hunger usually won out and made savoring it hard to manage. But normally, those she devoured were normal sized, and nowhere near the length and girth of this creature. So she was forced to take things step by agonizing step, swallowing and pulling for minutes, and minutes dragging into an hour.

Halfway through, at the apex of the dragon’s own considerable belly, Iaret was ashamed to say she made an involuntary noise of regret. Even halfway through her meal, her guts protested. It was already so much. Too much. Even for a practiced glutton like herself, the dragon was simply too big. But with her court watching, reverent, she couldn’t falter. No, she wouldn’t! She was a queen. A god. No matter this things size, it was nothing compared to her. Just another meal, and Iaret would not be defeated by a mere morsel.

And thus, though her belly screamed in protest, and she felt herself stuffed so full she feared she might burst, she finished. The dragon let out one final whimper as Iaret’s mouth closed mercifully around her snout, and with one final enormous swallow, the dragon disappeared fully into her cavernous gut.

Iaret groaned, unable to move. Barely able to breathe. She was tight as a snare drum, the pressure and pain of such a meal so intense she could hardly think. She panted, gently caressing her enormously distended stomach, afraid to put too much pressure on her sensitive skin. She shivered. It was too much. Unbearable. Unbelievable.

Bliss.

She couldn’t move, laying on a stomach now rendered nearly twice her size. She could feel it. In fact, it was hard to feel anything else, with how tight and round it had become. Before, it had been impressive in its size, but that had been empty fat. Soft and supple. Now? It was absolutely enormous. Larger than an elephant, and stretched tight around its enormous prize. Were she made of weaker material, she feared she might split open, but her dark blue scales stretched and strained, containing her massive meal. Hot as a furnace, the whole of her belly was the very center of her sensation, full of pain and wondrous pleasure.

And then she felt her prey twitch, and then begin to squirm, the venom finally fading. Iaret gasped as her poor belly stretched and churned, and she let out a deep, resonant belch as the dragon’s struggles expelled what little air remained. “Oh gods,” Iaret gasped. “You dog. I figured you’d be strong-BRAAAAP-enough to struggle. How p-pleasing. I would-URRRRP-have been disappointed if you’d not put up a fight.”

“Your Eminence,” Bakari said, his features a mask of concern. “Do you require assistance.”

“No,” she hissed. “What I require is more food. I am not BOOOOURRRP even close to full. Bring me more. A meal this rich deserves a dessert to match.”

And though her servants looked on in reverent disbelief, they did as she commanded. How could they not.

She shuddered. Gods, though the dragon’s struggling were painful beyond belief, exacerbating her already obscene fullness, she couldn’t deny the incredible rush of pleasure that came with it. Never before had she managed such a feat. But of course she had managed. Though she knew her godhood in the eye of her servants was a lie imposed upon her, this was one step closer in making it a reality. Truly, she was mighty. Divine. All-powerful. And with the soul of such a being inside her, she would be grander still. She lay back, awaiting the moment her struggles ceased and her soul was captured…

Except it never came. When the dragon finally succumbed, there was no rush of power. Merely a titanic bellyache, and one final acrid belch. Iaret felt a sudden tinge of rage. After all that, had it been for nothing?

But then she rested her hand upon her own enormity, and allowed herself a smirk. No. Not nothing. Soul or no soul, after a meal such as this?

Before, she had already been gigantic. She dared believe she was already larger than her rival across the river. But once this all digested, her glory would grow a thousandfold.

She would grow greater and greater still. An archfiend. A god. For she was Iaret. Greatest of gluttons. Devourer of dragons. And soon to be ruler of the Nile and all that lay beyond.

Posted using PostyBirb

Description

ART TRADE with Penny!
(CW: Vore)
Her half of the Art Trade is the accompanying piece story below!

The great Iaret, Serpent Empress of the Nile, Paragon of the Old Gods, defender of the ancient faith, and devourer of the profane, sat upon her great obsidian throne. Before her, a small coterie of servants dressed in diaphanous silks presented her with fine foods, fanned her to better preserve her from the oppressive desert heat, or worked scented oils into her skin with practiced fingers.

Bakari, first among her hunters, could feel Her Eminence’s gaze upon him. Despite his high station, it was a rare honor to attend to his queen during her feasts. Normally, it was his duty to patrol her lands for the servants of the False Queen, blasphemers, and other such undesirables to bring before her. He took his duty seriously and had enough pride in his worth that he did not take the chance at every apprehended sacrifice to prostrate himself before the Great One. To some, service meant basking in Her presence. But to Bakari, he knew his role was best served on the front.

Today? Today was an exception.

“Your Eminence,” he said, bowing his head and prostrating himself upon the warm stones. “I bring tidings.”

Above, the jackal serving the Great Empress grapes paused as she held up a hand. “You may speak, hunter,” she said, plucking a grape from the golden dish herself before the jackal bowed and moved away.

“If it please Your Eminence,” Bakari said, raising his head to behold her majesty. “We have captured a being we believe to be in service to the False Queen. A dire creature, more powerful than the unworthy servants she dares to send upon Your lands. My hunters took many losses, but by Your Grace, we were able to bring her down and bind her, to present before You.”

Iaret raised a golden brow. “You are First Hunter Bakari, are you not?”

The hunter tensed, feeling a jolt of joy at being so acknowledged. “I am, Your Eminence.”

“It is rare I see you in my halls,” she said, though nothing in her tone implied rebuke. “I’m curious to see what sort of prize was so noteworthy that you deemed it necessary to pause in your service.”

Bakari bowed his head. Of course. He could not hide his heart from her. “Your Eminence. Perhaps it is best if I showed you.” He made a sharp gesture, and one of the guards standing beside the doors to the throne room nodded. She left and returned shortly with a small group of well-muscled furs, straining on ropes to pull a great cart. Bound atop it, claws and fanged maw held tight by iron chains, was a dragon.

Iaret sat up.

She was aware that such things existed, of course. But even in her own timeline, dragons were rare. And this one? It was unlike some of the other creatures of that kind that were stored in her databanks.

Most dragons, she recalled, were lithe, aerodynamic things. Natural predators built for speed and sharp movements. The dragon before her was, well, there was no other word for it, fat. Her scales were a rich dark red, interspersed with dark black stripes like a tiger’s hide. And to Iaret’s gaze, something else seemed to flare. Something…curious.

Long experience with the occult had trained her to be able to detect the auras of fiends of all sorts. Them, and real divinities. And the dragon before her had a blend of both, even if both were faint.

“She’s getting bold, or desperate, sending a demon after me.”

“Your Eminence?”

Iaret shook her head. “Nothing. Tell me, hunter. How did this thing come to be on my lands?”

Bakari bowed again. “She arrived by land, Your Eminence. Declared that she wanted to confront the…” he hesitated, his entire body going rigid. Iaret frowned.

“Speak,” she said.

He winced. “To confront the ‘overfed crazy snake Debbie told me about’ were the words it spoke.”

Iaret’s eyes narrowed, and she turned her attention to the dragon. Bound as her maw was, she couldn’t speak. What she could do was glare daggers at Iaret. So that was the source of the divine edge to the creature’s soul. Of course.

Iaret snapped her fingers, expending a touch of will and allowing the tiniest fraction of the Power Cosmic to manifest. The chains around the dragon’s muzzle hissed and snapped, falling aside with a metallic clatter. The servants around the cart backed away instinctively as the dragon led out a snort of black smoke, raising her head to glare at Iaret.

“Big mistake,” she said, and breathed a plume of flame directly at the Empress. A move Iaret had anticipated. Another manifestation. A gesture and a sibilant hiss in the tongue of the immortal. And the gout of flame vanished with a shimmer. The room was silent, servants regarding their queen with terrified expressions, the dragon’s face a mix of shock and anger.

Iaret merely laughed.

“You are a bold one, I’ll admit. It isn’t often someone dares to attack me directly. Especially not when they’ve already been restrained. I’ll be magnanimous, however, and read your boldness as a compliment to the threat I pose.”

“Screw you,” the dragon said. Gasps rang put across the room. Bakari flinched, his hand going to the sword at his waist.

Iaret merely hummed, thoughtful. “Tell me, creature. What is your name?”

The dragon’s glare intensified. “Penny Redburrow. Your worst nightmare.”

Iaret laughed. A rich, deep belly laugh that made the contours of her enormous body jiggle from the force of it. “Child, I’ve seen more frightening things in the leavings of the palace cats. Well, Penny of the Clan Redburrow. You should be honored. Today, you shall be a sacrifice. You will be blessed for your courage and added to my magnificence.” Iaret gestured to her form, a serpentine body fattened enormously by hundreds of prior sacrifices, glistening with oils, her golden cybernetic components gleaming and bright.

“Like hell I will. Wait until I get out of here,” the dragon grunted, flexing her muscles and straining against her bonds, “and I’ll make sure your reign of terror ends.”

Iaret chuckled. “You are a fiery one. Yes, I do believe you’d be worthy. I will enjoy devouring you, my dear. Such a spirit empowering my form? My enemies have sent me a gift. You should be honored. In fact, I will even allow you to live as I swallow you, so you can enjoy becoming something grander than yourself.”

“Fuck you!”

But though the dragon strained again, Iaret heard a slight stutter in her voice. Her tongue flickered out, and she tasted the air, and what she found only added to her amusement.

She smelled it, clear as day. Though it was far too faint for her servants to detect, the dragon’s anger was tinged with something else.

Excitement. Lust.

“Struggle all you like,” Iaret said, lowering her voice, allowing it to become smooth and rich. “You’re strong, that I can see. But not as strong as I. Once I have you in my belly, all your strength will avail you nothing. You will be smothered in my coils, constricted and devoured. Made part of me, whether you will it or not.” And as she spoke, the scent of the dragon’s arousal sharpened. Though to the untrained eye, her anger seemed only to grow, there was a hesitation to her struggles. Curious. Delightfully curious.

Iaret made a sharp gesture to a servant, and they dashed out of the room, only to return bearing a delicate curved blade, as golden as Iaret’s headpiece. “Do you know why they call me Iaret, dragon? It is because I am as potent as a rearing cobra. My venom, should it pierce your scales, would stop your heart in an instant. But I am merciful. Instead, you shall taste but a fraction. A poison of my own design, to weaken you for a time. It wouldn’t do for you to distract me while I swallowed you, after all.”

She rose, her great bulk slithering down to stand before the dragon as her servant proffered the blade to her. She felt a giddy touch of excitement, mirroring the dragon’s own, as she realized just how large the dragon was. They were nearly of a size to one another. Even after years of gluttony and devouring sacrifice after sacrifice, it would be no exaggeration to say this beast would be by far the largest thing she had ever consumed. The idea of such a feat was…invigorating.

She held the dagger, and with a deft motion, slashed it against the dragon’s left shoulder, leaving a sharp but shallow gash. The dragon gasped in pain, but even in that brief instant the modified venom began its work, freezing the muscles of her arms and legs. “Unbind her and turn her face away. I wish to devour her tail first, so she may savor this honor.” Iaret grinned as she smelled the dragon’s lust, tinged now by the odor of fear. Her servants did as she commanded, and ropes and chains tumbled free. The dragon, now fully in the grips of the poison, did not budge despite her sudden freedom. Iaret’s jaw clicked as she prepared herself for such a meal, and then got to work.

Though the tail fit easily, from the moment Iaret me the dragon’s legs, she felt a sudden tinge of apprehension. This thing was huge. Almost as big as her. Not quite as wide, certainly, but very close. And though she knew her maw and gullet were up to the task, she winced as she strained to expand enough to begin swallowing. She grabbed the dragon with her powerful arms and pulled. The creature was heavy, and even rendered limp by the venom, it was hard going. But if anything, the pain and the struggle seemed to make the effort all the sweeter. Especially when, despite the creature’s sounds of futile struggle, she could tell some part of Penny Redburrow was enjoying this.

The meal was work. Normally, she would gulp her sacrifices down in an instant, or as quickly as she could manage. Though going slow was its own sort of bliss, hunger usually won out and made savoring it hard to manage. But normally, those she devoured were normal sized, and nowhere near the length and girth of this creature. So she was forced to take things step by agonizing step, swallowing and pulling for minutes, and minutes dragging into an hour.

Halfway through, at the apex of the dragon’s own considerable belly, Iaret was ashamed to say she made an involuntary noise of regret. Even halfway through her meal, her guts protested. It was already so much. Too much. Even for a practiced glutton like herself, the dragon was simply too big. But with her court watching, reverent, she couldn’t falter. No, she wouldn’t! She was a queen. A god. No matter this things size, it was nothing compared to her. Just another meal, and Iaret would not be defeated by a mere morsel.

And thus, though her belly screamed in protest, and she felt herself stuffed so full she feared she might burst, she finished. The dragon let out one final whimper as Iaret’s mouth closed mercifully around her snout, and with one final enormous swallow, the dragon disappeared fully into her cavernous gut.

Iaret groaned, unable to move. Barely able to breathe. She was tight as a snare drum, the pressure and pain of such a meal so intense she could hardly think. She panted, gently caressing her enormously distended stomach, afraid to put too much pressure on her sensitive skin. She shivered. It was too much. Unbearable. Unbelievable.

Bliss.

She couldn’t move, laying on a stomach now rendered nearly twice her size. She could feel it. In fact, it was hard to feel anything else, with how tight and round it had become. Before, it had been impressive in its size, but that had been empty fat. Soft and supple. Now? It was absolutely enormous. Larger than an elephant, and stretched tight around its enormous prize. Were she made of weaker material, she feared she might split open, but her dark blue scales stretched and strained, containing her massive meal. Hot as a furnace, the whole of her belly was the very center of her sensation, full of pain and wondrous pleasure.

And then she felt her prey twitch, and then begin to squirm, the venom finally fading. Iaret gasped as her poor belly stretched and churned, and she let out a deep, resonant belch as the dragon’s struggles expelled what little air remained. “Oh gods,” Iaret gasped. “You dog. I figured you’d be strong-BRAAAAP-enough to struggle. How p-pleasing. I would-URRRRP-have been disappointed if you’d not put up a fight.”

“Your Eminence,” Bakari said, his features a mask of concern. “Do you require assistance.”

“No,” she hissed. “What I require is more food. I am not BOOOOURRRP even close to full. Bring me more. A meal this rich deserves a dessert to match.”

And though her servants looked on in reverent disbelief, they did as she commanded. How could they not.

She shuddered. Gods, though the dragon’s struggling were painful beyond belief, exacerbating her already obscene fullness, she couldn’t deny the incredible rush of pleasure that came with it. Never before had she managed such a feat. But of course she had managed. Though she knew her godhood in the eye of her servants was a lie imposed upon her, this was one step closer in making it a reality. Truly, she was mighty. Divine. All-powerful. And with the soul of such a being inside her, she would be grander still. She lay back, awaiting the moment her struggles ceased and her soul was captured…

Except it never came. When the dragon finally succumbed, there was no rush of power. Merely a titanic bellyache, and one final acrid belch. Iaret felt a sudden tinge of rage. After all that, had it been for nothing?

But then she rested her hand upon her own enormity, and allowed herself a smirk. No. Not nothing. Soul or no soul, after a meal such as this?

Before, she had already been gigantic. She dared believe she was already larger than her rival across the river. But once this all digested, her glory would grow a thousandfold.

She would grow greater and greater still. An archfiend. A god. For she was Iaret. Greatest of gluttons. Devourer of dragons. And soon to be ruler of the Nile and all that lay beyond.

Posted using PostyBirb