Read the thread title and remembered this sequence I really liked. Artwork's by DegenerateException done for Schpadoinkle, there's also a story in the comments between the two posts on the latter's page, added below
"That'll be $7, please," Claire says, bagging the young woman's order: a nice large bag of freshly baked cookies. After all, why would the centaur look so flushed other than the billowing dry heat of the oven as she removed the tasty confections to be sold to her next customer.
"Here you are," she replies, handing over the money. "You know I can't make a week without these. I don't know what you put in them but they're so addictive."
"Haha, well you know I can't be sharing my trade secrets like that or I'd be out of business!"
"Yeah, I suppose not." The black-haired woman smiles, before a sudden thought strikes her. "By the way, did my sister stop by here? She sent me a text saying she was going to stop in before work and I was hoping to run into her here."
The barest flick of an ear is all that indicates that something is off. Something that the girl misses "N-no, you're my first customer today. Sorry!"
"Oh darn. I always miss her. Oh well, have a nice day!"
Claire sighs happily as the woman leaves. It's almost like she was trying to hide something.
and then the second artwork post has the other half
The busty girl squirms weakly against the soft, yielding flesh of the centaur's stomach. She can't believe it. She just stopped in for a donut before work. The crazy horse woman just said something about how cute she was. Of course she was flattered, and Claire was rather cute herself, but any thoughts of the centaur's forwardness were driven out as she was grabbed and practically shoved down her throat with practically nothing more than a few comments about how sweet and delicious she was.
She spent the first hour fighting and screaming, though her resistance was nothing against the wet, sweltering heat of the stomach that held her tightly in its grip. And any sounds that did escape the centaur's pudgy middle were drowned out by the store's muzak. Carefully chosen by the owner no doubt. The poor girl didn't even hear when her sister came in to do her own shopping, not even knowing that she was looking for her.
All she can do is whimper quietly as she settles in, soon to be nothing more than more padding on the baker's body. Said baker simply pats her flank happily as she munches on a cookie. "I wonder if her sister would taste half as good..." she muses.