<span style="font-weight: bold">Xarces and Alizome</span><br/><br/>The Priestess brutally backhands the Blackscale, oafishly struggling to restrain a meal actively<span style="font-style: italic">trying</span>to wriggle its way down her throat. He sprawls to the floor, not far from the entranceway, half-stunned. Perhaps, she considers, the warmblooded perversion truly did represent divinity… one that only her stomach could release from its hotblooded prison.<br/><br/>She enjoys her most delicious meal, sighing in pleasure at such delight as she gulps Xarces down to his toes, folding his form up inside her voluminous but powerful tum, and gratified that something so<span style="font-style: italic">satisfying</span>will be her last. His mass barely troubles her as she struts, tail swishing beneath a taut rump gleaming with oiled scales, and seats herself on the edge of the ‘well’. Gradually, as the acolytes chanting intensifies, she begins to lean back...