Alma was exasperated, agitated, and altogether exhausted, as usual during the festive holiday season. Somehow it had become her explicit, unwritten responsibility at HCC as head of HR to manage the huge company's massive, yearly, non-denominational holiday party. The competing demands of the boisterous executives that each wanted to meddle in her organizational effort made the supposedly cheery event a bizarrely byzantine experience every winter season. But all the petty squabbles regarding non-religious decorations, nonallergic party-foods, and the constant, illogical arguments proposing somehow acquiring a liquor license for the party were over with, now was the time to enjoy a job well done, the twenty-foot long blue-scaled dragoness mused to herself. As if on ironic cue, an increasing chorus of confused, worried yells spilled out of the normally placid 'dance-floor.' The company's budgeted selection of Muzak usually titillated little rocking or rolling, but this was altogether more dire-sounding than that one sad attempt at forming a 'mosh pit' three years ago.

The giant dragoness used her huge scaly bulk to casually spread the disorganized crowd, as someone yelled "Medic! She's choking!" as Alma bent over the small, frumpy, woman writhing on the cleared out office floor. She was clutching at her throat, obviously choking, as Alma calmly took stock of the situation. "Where's her purse?" the giant, blue-scaled dragoness bellowed out, to the confused HCC employees, before repeating herself again even more ferociously. Suddenly, one of the corporate drones fearfully flung out a dumpy, cheap purse, that jangled and exploded with a deluge of dainty supplies. Alma rifled through the purse content's with a long, extended dragon talon, before spying a yellow tube, and gingerly pinched the cap off. Alma carefully applied the tiny EpiPen to the convulsing, choking woman's neck with her huge, scaled claws, the woman's strained gasps subsiding into a hoarse, but steady rasp.

After several minutes, the woman had recovered from her intense allergenic reaction, as the now demoralized employees dejectedly milled around the silenced office party space, clumping into small whispering cliques. Alma led the recuperating office-lady to an isolated corner of the HCC floor in the Global Enterprises skyscraper. After allowing her another few minutes to finish catching her breath, Alma began questioning the woman. It turned out her name was Trudy, as Alma got to the point, asking "So, Trudy, please reserve the right to keep your private medical information confidential, but what are you allergic to? I took every effort to make sure everyone's allergies were accounted for with the company food offering. I don't know what went wrong!" the giant dragoness said, fuming with sullen rage. Trudy looked terrified, but also a bit ashamed and sheepish as she responded "Oh... please don't make a big fuss about it Alma, I already feel so bad about messing up the big company party... I-I know how hard you worked on the party-" Trudy murmured out, blanching as Alma released a small burst of fire from between her scaly lips, before continuing "B-but it's probably my silly vanilla allergy, it's very rare, but it caused anaphylactic shock for me... a real hassle." Trudy finished, feeling guilty, eyes downcast as she nervously rubbed her foot to her calf. Alma's intelligent reptilian mind raced as she wondered what went wrong, she had painstakingly ensured none of the vegan baked goods contained any vanilla, ensuring for an absolutely shit offering of appetizers, but hopefully heading off just such a fiasco that they now found themselves embroiled in.

After a minute, Trudy sheepishly responded "Well... what it usually is, is some women like to use vanilla extract as a natural perfume. It sounds silly, but even the scent of vanilla is enough of an allergen to set me off... Again I'm so sorry Alma! I'll just go and-" "SILENCE!" Alma roared, before composing herself and adding "Please Trudy, don't blame yourself. Here at HCC, we strive to create an inclusive environment, were people don't feel singled out for their unique backgrounds. It would break my heart if you blamed yourself for all this. Please, just relax and sit-back, I'll handle all of this. It's my job to make sure this place feels safe-for-working." Alma said, before bounding away on her talon-bearing dragon claws, as Trudy meekly called out "Oh but please... don't make a scene on my behalf... Oh Jeeze..." but it was too late for the impetuous, enraged dragoness to hear.

As the feared, predatory female dragon angrily paced into the center of the cancelled party's cleared dance-floor, she bellowed out explicit instructions to the fearful corporate minions that remained. "I want every one of you gussied up hussies to line up right in front of me, every single woman bearing the lightest scent of perfume! Do you unprofessional brats here me? LINE UP!" Alma finished, her fierce and violent tone allowing for no rebuttal or argument. The male party-goers collectively breathed a sigh of relief, and marched off in near lock-step unison, leaving a bewildered crowd of increasingly scared-looking business women, many lightly disheveled from their moderate party-going. Alma's big, yellow reptilian slit eyes glared over the remaining crowd with such intensity, the nervous crowd of woman began wordlessly lining up in disorderly ranks before the dragoness. The women gathered before her all seemed fearful, and rightfully so, given the blue-scaled dragon woman's fearful predatory corporate reputation. Most of the women could guess that at least one female HCC employee was going to be spending the rest of their career churning in Alma's tight belly, and from the wild, angry look in her draconic eyes, they could guess it would be several women. The crowd collectively flinched, as Alma lunged forward, and began expertly sniffing at the group, using her keen senses to detect the guiltily perfumed culprits.

Alma's draconic sense of smell was good, but she wasn't any kind of basset hound, and honestly the sweet perfume scents wafting off the collection of scared women all kind of mixed together as she sniffed over them. But Alma realized she was in too deep to appear indecisive, noting that several higher-ups were watching her manage the fiasco that she would assuredly be blamed for. Somebody had to pay for this, and Alma felt like she could handle about four somebodies tonight, maybe five if they were small girls, as her stomach rumbled instinctively in response as her thoughts turned to a predatory nature. The crowd of women could hear the big, blue dragon's awakening appetite as well, a general mood of panic seeming to spread among the gaggle of office ladies Alma had at her disposal. At near random, trying somewhat to hone in on the smell of Vanilla, Alma singled out five exotic women from the crowd, each girl responding to her wordlessly pointing talon with different displays of abject terror. Still, the girls feared further angering their corporate dragon master even more than they apparently feared approaching her, as the five women diligently, hesitantly lined up ahead of the rest, as the relieved crowd of girls stared transfixed. They were simultaneously grateful not to be chosen and interested in the fate of those that had.

Alma looked over the five girls she had singled out, each one reeking of a sweet, cloying, natural scent. The first was a brightly plumed harpy girl, dressed in a smart, expensive female business suit, which had such a short skirt, Alma could almost see up to where her tail-feathers connected to the scared harpy girl's perky little rump. The second was a rubbery, slimy salamander girl, Alma picking her more to taste her exotic flavor, than for any other reason. The third was a robust, thick-bodied Minotaur woman, Alma's mouth watering at the prospect of chowing down on some prime beef. The fourth was an especially scared elf, doomed to a gooey fate for her big tits and wide hips, which Alma couldn't wait to send sliding down her tight dragon throat. Finally, a small red-headed human intern was lined up with the rest, Alma not wanting to appear to be cherry-picking the more outlandish women for their unique flavors. The dragoness paced in agitation in front of the five women, who all responded to the horrifying implications of the situation in their own way. Alma was struggling to choose which delectable little female morsel to start with, as her eyes locked with the big, teary green eyes of the blonde elf, and beckoned her over with a curling talon. The elf staggered forward hesitantly, as Alma bent low, and opened her drooling pink mouth expectantly. The elf stared forward at the yawning pink maw of the predatory dragoness, her courage faltering as the full horror of her impending fate in Alma's belly began to sink in, her view of Alma's convulsing pink gullet causing her eyes to widen with fright.