Once upon a time, there was a pony and a changeling turned lamia were sleeping together. (The pony and changeling both loved this unusual sleeping position… There was just something soothing in sleeping wrapped up in the coils of one’s beloved)
 
But that moment wasn’t to be undisturbed forever. With a little tick after tock, a mechanical contraption of the modern days known as a “clock” went off, and started making quite the ruckus that the snake’s sensitive ears and even lighter sleep didn’t take well, and the large reptile stirred slowly awoken.
 
At first, her eyes were blurry, freshly woken up, it took a few moments to realize where she was at, and what was it that denied her her peaceful slumber full of wonderful, fuzzy dreams. Only when her ears started cooperating, turning around to locate the source of the pesky annoying sound, did she find out that it was… The clock that the blue mare in her current embrace set up not to oversleep.
 
That was a sound plan, a clock of this volume would wake a pony up for certain. But then, were the snake’s eyes playing tricks at her, or was the much smaller fuzzy unicorn still happily snoring away, exploring the dreamlands? That was absolutely unfair, a clock, set to wake her, did nothing, and instead, became an annoyance that someone else would have to deal with. That… That simply couldn’t be! She would have to be punished in one way, or another!
 
And the punishment came to the snake’s mind all by itself as… Out of nowhere, her belly rumbled, crying out for her to fill it up. She… Didn’t need food. And in fact, this changeling snake lacked all of the mean, deadly dangers that normal snake’s internals held hidden. No acids, no deadly crushing pressure, and magically synthesized oxygen to keep whatever went in on a little exploratory trip, alive.
 
No, it served only one purpose - as a tool for play. A tease for some. An inconvenience for others. But for a select few, a one in a lifetime chance to experience that, which they could only read about in the saucy stories hidden inside the books disguised as boring tombs of knowledge that nopony would otherwise ever touch. A fantasy that held the name of vore, or, vorarephilia. A paraphilia of being eaten, alive or otherwise.
 
But we’re getting off the topic here. We now had one cranky sleepy snake, a ringing, annoying piece of mechanical engineering and a little happy blue unicorn, still snoring away nothing was happening at all. And that was that the snake would now use against her, she knew Delly was hard to wake, she loved her sleep way too much, and once asleep… It seemed that even this clock proved ineffective.
 
Lets see if getting swallowed by what also served as her bed would be enough. And, while at it, lets also stop the machine of torture, so that the lesser sleeper might go back, and let the warm embrace of her lover from the inside, and the constant humm of steam around, lull her back to sleep, too.