“Ahh….”

Bug letting out a content sigh, as she capped off another glass of expensive cider with a savoured swig. The mardy mare mulling the spiced flavour upon her tongue, as the slight glimmer of cranberries complimented the delectable aftertaste of her most recent belch. The dour devourer relishing the captivating taste upon her palate with a pleased purr, as she found the slightly bitter tang tingling on her tastebuds just to the engorged equine’s liking. The hint of marinating mare meat on the gastric gust blending well with her pint, making this high-society indulgence more than worth it to Bug, even if the suspicious swell swaying between her legs had gotten her a few odd looks from the sophisticated Canterlot elite as they snobbishly sauntered by.

Bug just giving them a sultry smile as they passed, completely indifferent to their patronizing glances, as the slate snarfer cared little for their overrated opinions regarding the pony-shaped protrusion she was currently flaunting. Bug just caressing the bulge in her belly and let her boisterous “baby bump” buck, as her body began to boil down her high-class banquet down into her more useful base components. Once in a while perhaps someone would stop and politely ask to stroke her swollen stomach in hopes of feeling the “foal” kick, though, for the most part, this was often just a sly stallion trying to solicit sex, seeing as it was safe to assume the mare, they were talking to knew how to swallow. For her part, the earth pony would humour them, as if she played her cards right an inevitable betrayal and a few confident chugs would be more than enough to earn her a juicy helping of masculine meat for breakfast.

Sure, she preferred the supple ampleness of female flesh, but Bug was never the one to say no to free food, especially if they were rendered vulnerable by lustful desires. The grey glutton suspecting these flirtatious situations were caused by the allure of seeing one’s own mortality, as the turn-on of one last thrill spurred a reflexive instinct to fornicate in the pursuit of one last thrill. The worried wriggling and muffled mewls of her massive meal just adding to the saucy situation, before the fidgeting fight faded into nothing more than a rounding out mass melting in her mishappen midriff. The cultured snack stowed in Bug’s stomach now at this stage, as the trapped twitching and stifled squealing had long since ceased, leaving just the happy gurgles of an overfilled gut grinding down a heavy load of liquidating lunchmeat.

The deadweight dissolving away with the familiar pops and crackles of bones breaking, as efficient enzymes ate away at these more stubborn parts of her sizable supper with their normal proficiency. The more malleable muscle and fat already a bubbling chyme, as the curled-up clump of curvaceous chevaline, was meticulously converted into a complaint calorie-rich curry. Bug burping periodically, as she released some of the stale air trapped in this mostly molten mare mush, as bit by bit the pulped puree was pushed into the twisting tunnels of her lower bowels. The clumps of acid-pitted calcium in her belly clinking with each churning contraction, as the sizzling slurry that had once been an entire equine shifted with a slushy squelch. The simmering slop mulched by the almost mechanical motions of the gut, as it tried to render the more solid segments of Bug’s feminine feast into a more creamy ex-equine emulsion.

Not all parts of the process of converting a pony-sized partaking into flank fat had gone swimmingly though, as in truth Bug had been a bit optimistic about the fit of the dress her dinner had been wearing. Unfortunately, it seemed that the gorgeous garment had not been designed to hold a mare caring for two, especially if the second pony had been the magenta unicorn who had been initially wearing it. The gown simply too tight around the predatory pony’s plump plot, as it quickly became clear that her round rump and frizzy tail were a bit much for what the couturist who had complied the stylish frock had intended. Bug resolving this uncomfortable inconvenience by tearing a hole in the back of the poofy skirt so that her distinctive style could sit right. Not like the previous owner was in any state to mind the damage, as North Star… Charm… or whatever the now mostly digested dame went by, seeing as she was now little more than a chunky sluice draining towards Bug’s back exit. Bug rubbing the skeletal skull through her strained skin as she wallowed in her adjustments, before trying to take another sip from her now empty cup. The thought she had had a bit too much not crossing the mare’s mind, and with an awkwardly clumsy stagger, she rose back to her hooves and began to waddle to the bar, as she needed another drink to wash down the back taste of the tart brewing in her barrel….

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

Continuing her taste testing of the Canterlot elite, Bug indulges in a sizable snack at a winter ball at one of the city's many luxurious manors. Unfortunately for the grey glutton, the dress she managed to snag from her snack was not in her size, though I am sure the engorged equine will manage, as this is not the first time she has had to modify a gown on the fly to accommodate a mare-sized meal...

My ninety-first sketch from  Silent_E 's patreon.

This slightly tipsy 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

Also if you're feeling brave, check out Crazy Water's Discord, if you dare, it's where I tend to lurk ;) :

https://discord.gg/cVeAghu

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