“Gahh….” panted Bug, as she was lost in a blissful nirvana as the mists of lust clouded her perception of time as she marinated in her victory. Lactate leaking from her gargantuan breasts, as they lathered away the layers of the two mares within her who had long since stopped their pointless protests and had embraced their destiny as alabaster nourishment. The duo not going quietly, but once inside Bug’s body their incorporation was inevitable, as the two ponies were well on their way to being processed into peptides and other minerals that might sate an entire creche of hungry infants. The swelling gradually inflating like a balloon as small spurts of milk added a cream glazing to Bug’s normally dour fur, as she just felt her body dominating the bodies of the two weaker mares.

The volume within Bug’s sister mammilla for now staying consistent as the more tender flesh was dissolving into an emulsion of sloshing feed ripe for suckling. The obscene orbs tightening around their occupants, as Bug tensed her innards as her pelvic floor creaked and groaned as it yearned for the earth pony to polish her clams pearl in an attempt to relieve the tension in her marehood with a spasming convulsion that might scramble her eggs in an ovarian earthquake. The mare sized meals hanging from her belly wrapped in her gargantuan melons making such self-indulgence impossible, leaving Bug to edge the line of orgasm, as the steam within her continued to build with each little gloorps and gurgle from her simmering snacks.

The bitches bubbling and boiling as they were lapped at relentlessly by Bug’s brutal biology. Flesh slumping off in fizzing lumps, not unlike molten taffy as bit by bit the muscle and fast was rendered into a more workable state leaving just the slender skeleton and gristly keratin as a morbid marker of the identity of what would make this next batch of brisket beer.

The imprints of the lumps of fizzing calcium pressing skeletal shadows through the thin flesh that were smoothing out as the bones corroded from the plush polishing of the jiggling jugs. The bones snapping under the strain as little by little crackles and pops permeated out of the stewing shapes of what had once been two attractive equines Rainbow Dash’s hollow bones rendered light for flying fairing much worse than Applejack’s dense earth pony skeleton, as the Pegasus was already cracking under the stress of the digestive deluge her liquidating body was submerged in. Applejack’s skeleton proving more troublesome, as the sturdy frame sat oddly so that the skulls snout poked the tender interior of the boob as the delicate muzzle dissolved. An equally queer sensation echoing over in the right breast as Rainbow’s hoof cups pressed against the stomach in ghostly echoes, as the chiselled legs that they were attached too sluiced to slurry faster than the more sturdy keratin, leaving odd angles of shape as ambiguity began to remove any indication that the protrusion had once been a mare.


The whole exercise reminding Bug about the folly of prejudice, as at the end of the day the Wonderbolt would make the same shaped bulge as the honest farm pony. Their features fleeting, as with enough time stewing, they would both lyse into the same oblong shape of a mare milkshake in a fatty wrapper hanging like a plump fruit from Bug’s crotch. Such trivialities as wings or perhaps a horn if she had partaken in a unicorn would soon be a distant memory, as at the end of the day all such things broke down into the same base components until all that remained was a few stubborn hooves and teeth caps.

In between pants Bug focussed her body on finishing off her mammary meals’ as her loins were now begging for attention. the mare currently pinned under her conquest, but now through rosy cheeks, she could feel her body getting into gear to give the loitering bones a more powerful basting in the glandular chemical bath. Bug letting out a long breath and then just pressing down to the rewarding crunch of an inanimate ribcage imploding like a tower of crackers. The predatory mare just smiling at the stomach-turning stimuli; she loved this part…….

..........................

Well they didn't last long, guess Bug has a good metabolism for melting mares into milk.

Part 2 of a commission done by the ever-talented  Nomipolitan who as normal did an outstanding job. Hope you enjoy this foray into breast vore.

Part one: https://aryion.com/g4/view/588756

Part two: you are here


Part three: https://aryion.com/g4/view/589376

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