The intense Ghiscari sun once more found its way through the steaming air of Meereen and through Daenerys Targaryen's brass-stained window. Its illumination crept its way up through the room, climbing the steps that led to the Queen of Meereen's lapis lazuli feather bed, before too setting its gaze upon the ultramarine bed, and the lump that was apparent to be underneath.
With a sigh, the last known surviving member of the House Targaryen rose. The rays of the morning sun causing her platinum blonde hair to glow nearly white, she stretched and rose. A thin purple gown clung to her body, which had returned to its normal weight in recent months, regaining the muscle-taunt aesthetic it had held during her days as Khaleesi of the Dothraki Sea for some reason unbeknownst to her. She had recently had herself weighed, and found herself to be some 9 stones heavy.
She descended the sandstone steps in her silk slipper clad feet as she felt a pressure in her lower abdomen, causing her to hurry. Turning left, proceeding down a hallway, and then rounding a corner, she stood in front of a heavy acacia door, which she threw open with haste, reveling a privy, the walls and floor made of the same sandstone material that composed her bedchambers. The chair itself rose a meter from the floor. It was acacia on top, with its foundations being made from the same sandstone. The pipe that led to the ancient sewer system of the city had been widened at Daenerys' request, its diameter now about a meter and a half wide. With haste, The Mother of Dragons undid the lace on the back of her sleepwear and nearly tore it off of herself, tossing it towards the open door as she thrusted her rear on top of the wooden slab.
Several loud farts erupted from her taunt buttocks before what remained of what she had eaten the day prior followed. She felt her rectum expand greatly to allow her waste to pass with a sound that would be sickening to many, but to Daenerys, it was a song of relief; it was not painful to her in the slightest, almost pleasurable, really.
Daenerys tried to recall what she was currently defecating, and after a moment, believed she had. Yesterday, she had broken her fast on a vine of grapes, a wheel of goat cheese, and a suckling pig. At midday she had feasted on half a dozen sea bass, a loaf of bread, and a large bowl of pomegranate seeds. After nearly twenty minutes of nearly constant shitting, the last of her digested meals fell from her as she stood up and reached for one of the low quality linen cloths that had been given to her to use to clean herself. As she wiped off any tenacious remains, Daenerys recalled her dinner the previous night before, as her mouth began to water.
For an appetizer had been two large snapping turtles, that her chef, Dramazi gro Zomach, claimed he had captured himself. Zomach had prepared them masterfully, and Daenerys found great pleasure in devouring the reptile's flesh. In a matter of five minutes, the two turtles, which weighed nearly two stone each, were but empty shells and a bulge in the Last Targaryen's belly. For the main course, a prize sheep that weighed nearly 13 stone, a gift from a former slave turned wealthy pasture owner, was given first to Dramazi's touch of mastery, and than to Daenerys' hunger. Over the next half hour, the animal was converted from beast to bones and belches. Dessert came in the form of a peach pie, which Daenerys almost reluctantly ingested.
She was moments from calling her handmaidens and Unsullied guard to escort her back to her chambers before she was informed that a noble house, the zo Patons, had made an offering to her in the form of a Astaporian delicacy; two dozen unborn puppies, cooked by the zo Paton's own head chef. Daenerys was reluctant to try one, both for her lack of desire to eat unborn puppies, and for her lack of hunger, but when the servants brought out the platter, her mind was changed. They didn't look the most appetizing, but the smell stirred a hunger in the platinum haired girl's belly, despite it containing nearly double her own weight. She sat back down and took a cautious bite, which was then followed by a more emphatic one, and another, and another, until the whole of the morsel was sliding down her esophagus. She grabbed another and ate it in three large bites, as the dog fetus' bones had yet to form, allowing Daenerys to eat the thing entirely. Each of her hands grabbed one and fed it to the maelstrom that was her mouth, turning the three pound puppies into a wet mesh of meat in five seconds flat before her throat catapulted them into her. Almost autonomously The Queen of Meereen devoured another five stone of the puppies in a scant two minutes until all two dozen were lost within the confines of her body. She then belched loud enough to cause the Unsullied guard in the next room over to enter, spears raised.
Daenerys Stormborn, Last of the House Targaryen, then collapsed onto the floor, fighting off sleep. Three of her servant girls, taken from the Noble Houses of Meereen as hostages, rushed to her to assist their captor to her feet, unsuccessfully. As her heavy eyelids shut her vision away, Daenerys realized that she had ate more than those three girls weighed together. If she wanted to... she could... "No," she thought as rough hands hoisted her upwards, "The Gods curse men who do such things." She released her control over her sleep and relaxed as two Unsullied lay her in a stretcher. As her consciousness fled her for the night, a voice she did not know whispered in her mind.
"Yes," a man's voice whispered in a drawn out and frail tone that dripped of venom, "But you are a Dragon." She could not recall her dreams, but that voice was clear to her as the soiled cloth in her hand. With a grunt, Daenerys dropped the shit stained rag into the sewers, before clothing herself and walking to a nearby bathroom, which to her surprise, was sat an already prepared bath, heated near to boiling, as she preferred. She bathed before heading towards her servant's corridors, a grumbling stomach eliciting thoughts of breakfast to her mind. As she opened the door to the waiting gaze of a waiting Noble girl servant, Daenerys decides she has a hunger for...
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