When it came to things that took the short trip down Bug’s tight throat, it was generally safe to assume that once something was swallowed, it tended to stay swallowed. Years of experience eating equine meaning that the mardy mare possessed a steel stomach, that cared little of the feeble wriggling a lively lunch partook in a last-ditch effort to prevent their digestive destiny. Their bucking protests and pathetic pleading falling on deaf ears though, as they would fight and fail against the biology of their better, before inevitably taking the backdoor out of Bug’s body a rich shade of brown.

Because of this Bug was confident that once a mare or stallion was safely tucked away in her tummy, it was then only a matter of time before they were just a sloshing protein pulp pushing through her plumbing on a winding journey towards her ponut. Sure, the flavour of fidgeting varied, with some being stronger and more spirited than others, but in the end, their constitution would invariably cave, and they would convert into a compliant calorie-rich chyme that was more agreeable to Bug’s winding bowels. It didn’t mean that the grey glutton didn’t enjoy a struggle from her snacks though, as she found it somewhat cute that those she ingested thought they were still entitled to an opinion, even when they were little more than a sagging swelling twitching beneath her barrel.


In this regard, the current boisterous bulge hanging between Bug’s legs seeming to possess a rather strong survival instinct, not like it would help her now, seeing as the dour devourer had already earmarked her to be just another layer of fat on the predatory pony’s already plump plot. The fact the bump in her belly was one of Manehattan’s most famous fashion critics not even factoring into the equation for the engorged equine, as to the slate snarfer Prim Hemline was just another heavy helping of mare meat marinating in her midriff. The engulfed earth pony’s pretentious career meaningless to the moody mare, as to Bug. Prim was little more than a satisfied burp, and a short bout of relaxed digestion. Nature just taking its course in metabolizing the large load of filling female flesh bloating Bug’s belly, as though the more mature mare was writhing tenaciously, the well-fed equine barely even looked inconvenienced by the fluttering flailing of her feisty food.


The curled-up celebrity simply nothing to write home about, as aside from being better dressed than the majority of Equestria’s denizens, there was just nothing special about Bug’s haughty banquet once you stripped away her posh wrapper. The luxury garments swiftly stripped by Bug’s practised hooves, and with a few confident chugs the consumption played out perfectly. The only real qualm being the rather bland taste of the main course, as apart from a cherry tang from either a perfume or body wash, the only other noticeable thing was the bitter taint of a slight spicing of hairspray. Of course, this was not the first head Bug had wrapped her lips around, and the artificial seasoning was not enough to put off the predator’s palate, and with a few gliding gulps Prim was safely stowed in her stomach, and waiting to be processed.

The indignant whining coming from Prim barely audible, as she carped about her unceremonious treatment from her curled-up position. The muffled mewling and stifled screams soon lost under the gentle gurgling of a Bug’s strained stomach, as it geared up to melt her distressed dinner into a creamy mush of molten chevaline. Bug using a forceful frog to tuck in the trembling mare’s head, so that the churning gastric chamber could more easily manage the intermittent quivering of her frantic feast. The economical fetal fold offering next to no position to manoeuvre, and soon the often snooty and articulate mare was just shuddering in-between whimpers, as she found herself unable to push away the figure-hugging sleeve moistly kneading over her entirety. The grey glutton slowly stroking the shifting shapes beneath her skin, allowing her to savour the weakening worming of her treat beginning to tire within the snug embrace of her unbearably cramped core. It wouldn’t take long now, the lack of activity telling Bug that much, allowing her to relish the final moments of her meal. The mare just leaning back against the wall, cradling her mishappen midriff, before with a final wet belch Bug capped off her conquest, and allowed the nostalgic backwash of Prim’s last breath to renew her substandard flavour upon the dour devourer’s tastebuds.

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

During a recent business trip to Manehattan, Bug had a rather hungry encounter with a rather famous fashion critic. The snooty mare quickly rubbing the grey glutton the wrong way with her sheer snobbishness, and the interaction soon turned ingestive, as Bug added some more designer clothes to her ever-growing wardrobe....

My eighty-eighth sketch from  Silent_E 's patreon.

This well-dressed Bug was kindly coloured by my friend  plaguetyranno .

If you would like to support me and vote in upcoming polls check out my patreon at: https://www.patreon.com/doomfister

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https://discord.gg/cVeAghu

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