copied from doomfisters page: “Some ask why I eat maiden princesses.”

“Well… I cannot digest pure virgins…”

“So… Imagine how Good they feel coming out…”

Explained the well-fed dragoness, as she outlined her deviant driving motive for indulging in her most recent blue-blooded banquet. The raunchy reason enough for the dragoness to crash and then subsequently consume the most recent royal summit, as she saw the plentiful princesses and their waitstaff in attendance as the perfect place to indulge in an easy meal. The kingdom of origin of the wolfed-down women irrelevant, as their curvy and voluptuous bodies easily slid down the hungry throat regardless of the colour of the elaborate heraldry and finest silks they were clad in. Princesses, Ladies in waiting, even the accompanying handmaidens all opulently oozing down the oesophagus equally smoothly, with the only real variance in their supple flavour being the slight spicing of floral fragrance coming from their particular perfumes.

Roses, lavender, bluebells, marigolds and a dozen other pampered nuances passing over the dragoness’s palate, as the dainty build of her feminine fodder’s delectable figures proved powerless against the ravenous gulping of their predator’s rolling gullet. The frightened fidgeting of manicured fingers and the worming wriggles of their enviable curves doing nothing to stop their drool-drenched descent, as one by one the dragoness devoured them like fleeing finger food. Their scared shrieks little more than muffled meeping as they were rudely introduced to a draconian digestive tract. The sweltering embrace slathering over them just a taster of what was to come, as the whimpering women began their terminal trip through their devourer's palpitating innards.

The unceremonious treatment beyond degrading, as the peristaltic passageway pressed down with a skin-tight snugness, that rippled over the shivering contours of each writhing woman with an uncomfortable intimacy. Their pathetic protests unheeded, against the might of the overwhelming undulations kneading them towards the rapidly filling stomach, where they would make their grand entrance with a soggy splash. Their hellish entrance met by a quivering mass of mewling meat, as they interlocked with a churning tangle of limbs and bodies with the stifling steaminess of what they could only assume would be their tart tomb. The shifting space of the well-loaded organ flooding their snivelling senses, as nubile bodies were forced together with no regard for personal space, replacing the individual with just a jibbering ball of shuddering female forms. Each woman inappropriately squished against her equally unwilling peers, as arms, legs, faces breasts and buttocks slotted together until a disorganised lump could only be described as an effeminate knot of marinating lady lunchmeat.

Their current condition was inconsequential to the dragoness though, as she capped off her dynasty crumbling consumption with a final moist swallow and a satisfied belch. The princesses but petite portions to her appetite, as alone their size made them barely more than mouthfuls for the monster engulfing them. Close to 60 women of the upper crust required for the dragoness to fill the gnawing gap in her gut, as she shovelled the squealing nobility into the gape of her fanged more as though they were nothing more than snacks, until she deemed her stomach sufficiently stuffed to the brim with well-bred meat stock. The size of her massive meal of now stewing damsels enough to create a slight swelling straining beneath her scales, which the full dragon rewarded with a reassuring pat, as she savoured their trapped squirms.

What came next was only natural, as it became quite clear the majority of the bolted-down royals had lied about their virtue. The dragon’s innards good at discerning if they had been truthful about their supposed chastity, and before long most of the women were well on their way to being baked into a chocolatey bowel movement of processed protein, speckled with gold and silvers of indigestible jewellery her deflowered dinner had been wearing. The emulsion of enzymes and acid the packed-away princesses were basting in showing no mercy to their sinful flesh, and within the space of an hour, most were a sloshing chyme lethargically draining through the dragoness’s plumbing.

Of course, not every princess had been disingenuous about her maidenhood, and some would survive their sluicing ordeal. The dragoness feeling their meek movements within her, as they continued to kick even as they seeped through her twisting intestines whilst she contently lounged upon her horde. She had what she wanted after all, as an entire generation of aspiring female leaders gurgled down to their base components, as just from a glance most seemed to have melted down into a molten mulch before she had even returned to her lair. Perhaps half a dozen twitching Puritans remained intact at this point, though it may have been more as it was not uncommon for some of the aghast ladies to simply pass out under the brunt of their putrid predicament. In a few hours, she would see how many had made it through unharmed, but until then the dragoness could only bide her time and giddily wait for the pleasurable sensation of wiggling women to yet again grace her tender tailhole…

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A hungry dragoness crashes a royal summit in order to eat her fill of princesses, though her reasoning is a little more deviant than one would expect....

A story done for one of my patreons JustAnotherMeal, who wanted a story to go with a piece they got from scottglass . This one featuring a dragoness revealing a certain thing about consuming virgin maidens that tickles her fancy...

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