V0re - Blog Posts

Hii (^_^). Its my sketch from school

petplay / g/t / vore

keeping your half sized pred as a pet. Making a luscious bed for them, a plush nest of ornate silks, thick furs, and pillows stuffed with downing feathers

Each night, completing a ritual of Feeding. Preparing tinies on a gold guilded dish, only thr most luxurious for your rare pet. Tiny after tiny, hand delivered to their waiting mouth until their stomach grows visibly round and plump.

Giving your pet a belly rub, pressing your comparatively massive hand onto their belly, feeling the restless little meals under your pets skin. Pressing down enough to make the pred jolt, their cheeks turning red as a small belch escapes them

saying "good pet," as the pred curls up around their full belly, their small palms kneading into the heavy, taut mass in their stomach.

Watching over them as they fall into a deep, digestive sleep. Their tummy continuing to squirm long after they fall into slumber. Watching as your pets belly eventually ceases all movement, and begins to grow smooth and round, softer, as their dinner of tinies gurgle away.

Your pet lounging much later, their paunch noticeably plumper after their most recent feeding. Pressing your hand into that squishy pouch, which annoys the pred slightly.

MINORS SHOULD NOT BE IN FETISH SPACES !!!

THIS INCLUDES VORE

STOP ENCOURAGING THE ENDANGERMENT OF MINORS

IT DOESNT MATTER IF ITS SFW

VORE IS STILL A FETISH SPACE

STOP PUTTING KIDS IN DANGER !!!

dont like kissing and im not big on sex so youre gonna have to dangle me above your open mouth and drop me into it and swallow me whole. yup. theres no other way

shirt..

Pred: if only there were a quick, fun and easy way to defeat this opponent..

The conveniently timed stomach growl:

having an attack dog pred. A pred where you can point at someone and be like 🫵 eat them

This is massive news

flesh-manipulator prey sitting on your lap, caressing your body, and verbally guiding you through the discomfort as he uses his innate magic to contort your body into the perfect form to consume him

his hands push against the middle of your chest, as your esophagus stretching and your ribs become more flexible

he kisses you on the mouth as the tendons of your jaw contort just enough that he's be able to slide past them

his thighs squeeze your belly as the skin becomes stretchier

all the while he's gently cooing to you "good boy," "just breath for me," "you're gonna be such a good pred~"

minors dni

pred and prey who have monthly coupons w/ each other.

the pred has one that says "one free meal." it does exactly what it says - the pred gets to eat the prey, no questions asked.

the prey, however, also has one that says "one free meal." however, instead of the pred getting them something to eat, or the prey feeding themselves to the pred, the prey's coupon allows them to get the pred to eat one person of their choosing, no questions asked.

You know what, no. Fuck it. I don't care what my mutuals think of me for finding this out, it's too important not to share.

I am an adult. I enjoy adult things. I enjoy NSFW things. I enjoy vore as one of those things. And there has been one too many times that my adult interests (vore) have shared community spaces with minors.

Minors, listen up. And I am speaking to EVERYONE under the age of 18. I don't care if you turn 18 in the next hour, I'm talking to you.

There is no such thing as a SFW kink. There is no such thing as SFW vore. There is no such thing as safe for work kink or vore.

Can it be nonsexual? Yes, definitely. But it is still not sfw. IT IS STILL A KINK.

Even if you are interested in it sexually as a minor, you should NOT be interacting and communicating with the community. Engage with it from a distance. I'm well aware that minors can have kinks, I was a minor once myself, and I get it. But this isn't about kinkshaming, this is about actual child endangerment.

Not only are you putting yourself at risk of being harmed or groomed at worst, you're also putting us as adults in danger. There is genuine legal trouble that we can get into for allowing minors to engage with kink content such as this. Imagine if you, a hypothetical 13 year old (which is an actual age that I saw interacting with these blogs btw!), showed up to a BDSM club, DEMANDED entrance, and then whined about not being allowed in because it's "not sexual for you" and "just an artistic interest." Because that's what this is comparable to.

To the minors reading this, disengage with the public vore community. I'm not the only adult that is bothered by this. This is a GENUINE, ACTUAL ISSUE that SEVERAL other adult bloggers (even the nonsexual ones!) have brought up as an issue. I'm only speaking up about it myself because it's managed to cross paths into a very small fandom that I'm in. This is unacceptable behavior, and these kids need to be held accountable.

Tl;dr nonsexual kink is still a kink, and minors should not be engaging with vore content. If you're an adult vore blogger that allows minors to interact with you, you're fucking disgusting and I want you far away from me.

Non vore blogs/enjoyers are encouraged to reblog. I know there's plenty of lurkers who might see this, as I'm one of them.

Tfw the character you main in a fighting game has a v.ore animation and now you have to play it so cool in front of the people you're playing with

What if Bowser secretly had a crush on Mario and also secretly was into vore, so he wrote a bunch of fanfics in which he eats Mario, and then Mario finds those fanfics and is, understandably, disturbed, believing that Bowser is some murderer, and everytime he has to go save Peach he is much more jumpy and scared of Bowser, and Bowser realizes that Mario found the fics and is incredibly embaressed. The next time they go kart racing, Bowser flashes Mario a awkward smile, and Mario just starts visibly shaking with fear, turning to Luigi to be like, "He's-a going to fucking kill me, he's-a gonna kill me, Luigi!"

*heavy sigh*

thousandth time posting this but throwing it into the tags at the risk of my own sanity to make my point:

yes, sfw vore is still a kink. yes, even if it’s completely nonsexual, it is still a kink, and you should not be talking to minors about it, nor putting yourself on a pedestal above other kink/fetish blogs for being nsx. you have a kink. it’s nsx, but it’s a kink.

this is not a safe environment for minors. end of sentence. it was always a fetish community - you don’t get to claim it as this suddenly safe space where talking about vore is suddenly a normal interaction to have with a teenager. that’s fucking weird.

you have a kink. own it.

It's tough to tell how big your prey is when you're flying, ya know?

had in my head the concept of robots with lava lamp bellies, got around to drawing them

the idea is they make for space heaters and lava lamps, among other things. they come in different aesthetic models and lava colors

i might have contracted a brain-rot in the process

extra variant under the cut

The first time I brought him a meal, it was an accident. I didnt know what he was, I didnt know what would happen.

He had no name that I could speak, no true shape that he would show me, but he had hunger.

I brought him more. People who wouldn't be missed. People who might have deserved it. People I barely thought about once they were gone.

I watched him take them, jaws parting to accommodate them whole. The silence after was always the most satisfying part. Quiet. The confirmation that the world had swallowed them up, and no one would ever know where they'd gone.

Except me

Then, after, I took care of him. I brought cool water. I pressed my hands to the swell of his stomach when he was too full to move. He shifted and groaned, his voice like claws scraping against old stone. This was my ritual.

I should have died in that explosion—in the bloom of heat when the car burst into flames. But I walked out of it, my skin untouched, my clothes barely singed. The air smelled of ash and burned meat-- none of it was mine.

I told myself I was lucky. That it was chance. And the confusing nature of the event, it must have been survivors guilt.

But then the shadows started following me. And I knew things I shouldn't.

I told him about it the next time I brought an offering.

He was sated, draped in the darkness, in the basement, same as when Id first found him.

The grisly echoes of his last meal settling in the deep of his belly. I pressed my hand against it, felt the heat of his digestion like a furnace beneath his skin.

and said, "Something's wrong with me."

I told him everything that had happened. He listened, uninterrupting until I had told him everything.

He made a sound that might have been a chuckle. "Ah."

"Ah? That's all you have to say?" I demanded. "I walked out of a burning car. I see things. I hear things. And I know it's connected to you."

"it is."

There was an apology in his voice. He adjusted himself, his stomach gurgling over its latest burden.

"You've been offering me sacrifices for months. You're bound to me now. These are... side effects."

I stared at him. "Side effects."

He stretched, his form shifting, a rippling shadow in the dark. "Devotion has power. And you've been quite devoted, haven't you?"

That horrified me. I didnt want to be his devotee. "I just like watching you eat."

"That," he said, "is close enough."

Had he tricked me?

"So, what, I'm your priest now?"

"If you want to be." He tilted his head, regarding me not in the way a human or animal would. "Or you can just keep bringing me meals. Either way, the benefits remain."

I let my hands press into him, kneading the firm swell of his gut, feeling the way his stomach gurgled beneath the pressure.

A god’s belly, full with an offering I had given.

"You're very proud of your work," he said, amused.

Again, I smoothed a hand over his belly flesh. Like being allowed to run your fingers through a lion’s mane

A strong rolling gurgle answered my touch, a sound deep, growling, proof of the work being done inside.

His belly was stretched tight, but not quite like mortal flesh. It shifted strangely under my hands, half-solid, half-shadow, as though his body couldn't quite decide if it needed to follow the rules of the world it inhabited.

The weight of him was immense, his form languid with satisfaction. I pressed deeper, kneading slow circles against his full belly, feeling the dense pressure of his meal, the warmth of it rolling back at me. He groaned, long and low, and his stomach clenched beneath my hand.

“Hhhroourrp—” The belch tore from his throat, vibrating through his chest and against my palms.

I petted his stomach, gentle, praising. No part of me wanted to stop doing this.

Thinking about how I would actually be so uncool in a g/t vore situation underwater. I have crazy thalassophobia so if a big mercreature was trying to eat me I would be too freaked out to get anything out of it :/

arctic merman and lost arctic explorer

[i will turn this into a comic eventually i promise]

"g-good g-g-god it's freezing out here"

"yknow my mouth is always open if you wanna hop in~ i mean it's warm...and uh...warm"

"i i w-will not feed myself to you, you perverted s-s-siren"

"aw cmon...it's so sad seeing you all cold like this when my organs are right here. i mean they're super warm. doesn't being wrapped up in a sack of flesh inside my tummy sound comfy?"

"i won't yield myself to an agent of the devil! also that does not sound nice at-t-t-t all

[gurgle] "it gets a lot colder at night..."

"..."

"but my tummy stays nice and warm. i mean look at this blubber, it's not just for show~"

"f-fine! you can eat me!"

minors dni

I’m not sure if anyone did this before but still

do NOT swallow nagas tail first!! directional friction means that it’ll be very difficult and you might even lose your lunch (hehehe)!

instead eat them headfirst, and once you’ve got their human half down your throat you’ll be AMAZED at how easily they slip down into your belly! the positioning of a naga’s scales makes it so that even if they’re trying hard to get back out, any sort of movement from them will just work them even quicker down your esophagus :)

um. any nagas reading this look away this is private

Sharkgirl and goatgirl girlfriends. They're both dumpsters and can't stop eating random junk. The difference is one is a sea dumpster and the other is a mountain garbage compactor. The shark will sometimes come home and see her goat munching on their furniture. She can't really be too angry though. Heck, the round misshapeness of her belly was indicative that she had a little too much fun eating license plates, tires, and whatever else she found at the bottom of the ocean on her beach day. Oh well, another night of cozying up on the couch to Netflix and belly rubs with their clunky, noisy tummies.

"There ya go.. Just a little more..." He tilts the legs back, lifting them so it's easier for the Pred to swallow. There's not much left outside, just leg below the knees.

Another strained swallow, followed by a whiney groan. He's getting somewhat impatient with the Pred, tempted to try pushing the Prey down, but he reminds himself this is the Pred's first time doing this... and he wanted it to be enjoyable.

Gently, he strokes down the Pred's neck, massaging into it to encourage another swallow.

"You're doing so well~ I bet you're so full already..."

The Pred manages another swallow, pulling the legs in up to the ankles. He decides now is fine to let go of the Prey, there's no way they're struggling can interfere now. Running his hand over the Pred's rounded stomach, he presses down on it, attempting to create room for the meal. They've been at this for some time now- nearly an hour? The Pred's really struggling...

Another swallow brings the feet into the Pred's mouth, followed by a quick gulp that finally- finally- sends the last of the Prey sliding down towards their gut. The Pred pants heavily, huffing and moaning with difficulty as their stomach expands far beyond its full capacity.

"Ohh,... iit's too much.." The Pred whines.

"That's a good Pred.... You'll be just fine..." He reassures, rubbing thorough circles into the trapped Prey.

They'll see- being a Pred is great! They just need to get used to it...

pest control

The call comes in just past noon. A woman, frantic, says she’s spotted a colony of tinies scurrying around her attic. Probably have been living up there for months, stealing crumbs, making little tunnels in the insulation. She wants them gone—immediately.

“Fast, effective removal,” you assure her over the phone, slipping on your jacket.

“No mess, no chemicals or poison.”

It’s a warm day, and you feel good, stomach still light from the morning. Your last job had been a modest infestation—three tinies in a crawlspace. They’d gone down easy, barely noticeable in your stomach. You could go for something bigger.

it was lunch time after all

The house is tidy, suburban, white shutters, flower beds neatly trimmed. The woman meets you at the door,

“I heard them moving all last night,” she says, ushering you in. “It’s disgusting.”

You nod, but you don’t share her disgust. Tinies aren’t much of a problem—not for you, anyway. You dont think they're gross.

In fact, you find them delicious.

You climb up to the attic, flashlight sweeping over boxes and dust-covered trunks.

you hear—the light, skittering sounds of tiny feet, racing around, trying to stay hidden. You don’t bother setting traps or luring them out. You’ve done this enough to know how to catch a tiny with your own hands.

“I know you’re in here,” you murmur. “Let’s not make this difficult.”

A rustle. One of them bolts—you see it, definitely a tiny- not a rat or anything else, maybe six inches tall. Its darting for a gap in the wood.

You lunge, faster, and scoop them up. They squirm in your palm. You don’t waste time. A quick toss, a parting scream, and then the tight, familiar sensation of something sliding down your throat.

You swallow, and feel the tiny land heavily in your stomach.

More movement in the attic.

there’s no escape.

Another darts for a box, and you catch them just as easily. One by one, they disappear down your gullet, bulging your throat for a moment before joining the others.

You pat your stomach as it begins to stretch, filled with wriggling, panicked tinies.

By the time you finish, you’re full—pleasantly so.

The attic is silent again, no more scurrying. Just you now, satisfied, stuffed, as you climb down.

The woman looks at your middle. She swallows. “You—uh. You got them all?”

You smile, wiping the corner of your mouth. “All taken care of.” you pat your full belly.

She pays you in cash. You head back to your truck, rubbing your belly as it gurgles over its new contents. Another job well done.

You pull out of the driveway, and head back towards the city, one hand on the wheel, one resting on your stuffed stomach.

You'd give yourself a break, you needed time to dispose of the pests properly. You never wanted to show up to a job already full.

You had another client scheduled in the evening. For now, you pulled into a roadside cafe

It's a favourite of yours, whenever you're in this area. A perfect place to hang around and digest.

You take a seat in the corner, shifting slightly to accommodate the fullness in your stomach. The tinies are settling now, movement staggering as digestion takes its course. You rest a hand over your gut, feeling the occasional twitch beneath your palm.

A waitress comes by, chewing gum, pen poised over her notepad. "What can I get ya?"

"Just coffee," you say. You don't need food.

In a few minutes, your drink arrives.

You sip your coffee, eyes half-lidded, and let yourself sink into the feeling. You do kinda like your job.

treat

The apartment was quiet.

hunger gnawed at their ribs.

They hadn't eaten much lately. Grocery shopping was a skill they hadn't fully mastered yet, and takeout was too expensive to justify.

They’d made do with snacks, skipped meals when the hunger didn’t feel unbearable. But tonight, it was unbearable. A dull, aching hollowness in their gut, a raw craving that felt urgent. They needed food, now.

And then they saw it.

At first, they thought it was a doll—some forgotten thing left behind by the last tenant. It sat on the counter, in the corner, tucked away behind the kettle, quiet and inanimate.

But then it moved.

Its head lifted, small arms pushing against the surface as it stood, watching them with wide, uncertain eyes.

The breath caught in their throat. It wasn’t a doll. It was a person. A small, living person.

“…What are you?” They hadn’t meant to speak, but the words stumbled out, hushed and uneasy.

The little person hesitated. Then, in a voice so small it barely carried, they answered: “I live here.”

That didn’t make sense. Nothing about this made sense. But what struck them more than the impossibility of it was the aching hunger curling in their stomach.

Strange.

The raw, irrational thought that pushed its way into their mind, urgent and undeniable.

I could eat that.

They swallowed hard, hands tightening into fists.

“You can’t—” Their voice came out strained, but they couldn’t finish the thought. Hungry, that was all that mattered.

They were staring, now.

The little person must have noticed.

“You’re staring at me weird,” they said slowly. “Like you’re thinking about—”

They took a step back.

The new tenant took a step forward. The hunger twisted, pulling at something deep inside. Their stomach growled—loud, loud, loud

and they flinched at the sound of it.

The tiny person flinched too.

“You’re hungry,” they murmured.

Their throat felt dry. Their stomach clenched, aching, the hunger overriding every rational thought.

“I—”

They didn’t know how to explain it. Didn’t know how to explain why their mouth had started watering, why their hands itched to grab.

They didn’t have to. Because the little person understood.

And they bolted.

Their limbs were too short to carry them far. They barely made it past the edge of the counter before a couple of hands closed around them, lifting them effortlessly off the ground.

“Wait—” The little person squirmed, small fingers pushing uselessly against the grip.

"I can get you food--" they promised

“You don’t have to—” they pleaded

But they did. They had to.

They opened their mouth, hesitated for a single, breathy second—then shoved the tiny, wriggling body inside.

The taste was—nothing interesting.

But the way they fit against the tongue, the warmth of them sliding toward the back of the throat—that was real. And it was good.

Delicious.

Swallowing was too easy. Weirdly easy, for something so large... One push of the tongue, one reflexive gulp, and they were gone.

And then—fullness.

Their stomach swelled. The tight, aching emptiness was replaced with a heavy, solid weight, pressing outward in a way that stole their breath.

They staggered, hands finding their middle, pressing against the round, stuffed curve of their belly.

They groaned. It was too much. Too big. Like they had swallowed an entire thanksgiving turkey whole.

A weak movement pressed from inside. The little person was still there. They were inside.

Their stomach lurched, gurgling loudly around its unwilling meal, and they clapped a hand over their mouth as a deep, uncomfortable belch forced its way up.

Their face burned.

This wasn’t normal.

This wasn’t normal.

People didn’t just do this.

People dont... eat borrowers.

They sat there, too full to move, still stunned by what they had done, another thought crept in.

That was good.

they licked their lips. Maybe, this was what they needed.

They groaned as they pushed themselves up, feeling the sheer weight of their belly pull them down.

It was so heavy, distended in front of them, stretching the fabric of their shirt too tight over the full curve. With a sigh, they tugged it off and went to the bedroom

swapped it for something looser— sweatpants and a baggy hoodie that still didn’t quite hide the roundness of their gut.

God, they felt good.

Warm.

Satisfied.

Full

Not hungry anymore. Not hungry at all, not even a little.

The heavy fullness in their stomach left them sluggish, but in a good way—like they were floating.

Their body knew what to do.

They patted their middle absently, then started on some chores. It was easier than expected, even with their overstuffed gut swaying with each step.

They washed dishes, folded some laundry, wiped down the counters—all with the steady, comforting weight in their stomach keeping them company.

Every so often, they’d pause to rub slow circles over the firm curve, soothing the occasional gurgle or hiccup that bubbled up.

They belched once or twice

Honestly? This was the best they’d felt in a long time.

Then came the knock at the door.

shut they forgot their friend was coming over

They barely had time to adjust their hoodie before their friend stepped in, dropping their bag by the door and stretching with a groan.

“Man, I’m so tired—”

Then they paused, eyes flicking down.

“Whoa. What’s with that?”

Heat flooded their face. “What?”

“The belly.” Their friend smirked, gesturing. “You look stuffed.”

Their stomach churned, loud enough to be heard, and they winced.

“Uh. Yeah.” they gulped

“…Yeah?” Their friend raised a brow.

“Dude. What did you eat?”

They hesitated, saying it out loud? That was risky. Still, their stomach gurgled insistently, and their friend was waiting. Why bother lying. Their friend would probably figure it out somehow - what if they spat up a bone or something? Whatever.

“…A borrower,” they muttered.

Their friend blinked. Then their eyes widened.

“No way.”

They shrugged, rubbing at their belly sheepishly. “I was hungry.”

Their friend grinned. “Damn. Lucky.”

They stared. “Lucky?”

“Yeah, dude.” Their friend laughed, plopping onto the couch. “Those little guys are so satisfying. You’ve never had one before?”

“…No?”

“Man.” Their friend shook their head, amused. “You’re in for a treat”

Another belch bubbled up before they could stop it, making them flush. Their friend just laughed harder.

They weren’t sure if they should feel weird about this. But as their friend went on about how good borrowers were, how filling, how their stomach was gonna love digesting that one down, they couldn’t help but feel… relieved.

Their friend seemed... weirdly supportive. And they knew about this, was this normal...? After all...?

Their friend leaned forward, eyes glinting with interest.

“C’mon, lemme see.”

Heat crept up their neck. “What?”

“Your stomach, dude.” Their friend grinned. “I wanna see it.”

They hesitated, fingers tightening around the hem of their hoodie. It was already obvious—there was no hiding the way their gut pushed out, round and heavy, the fabric stretched awkwardly over it. But showing it off? And why?

Their stomach let out a deep, sluggish glorp, and their friend’s grin widened.

With a sigh, they lifted their hoodie.

Their friend let out a low whistle. “Damn.”

They shuffled awkwardly, one hand resting over the tight swell of their bare belly.

It was huge. Round, firm, stretched full with the weight of their meal. And active, quiet gurgles and occasional shifts making it clear there was still something inside. Their friend reached out, pressing a palm against the curve. Rubbing just underneath their belly button.

“That’s a big one,” they mused. “How’d you even get it down?”

They flushed. “I don’t know. I just—did. Swallowed... uh.”

Their friend let out a short laugh, giving their belly a light pat. “Well, that’s gonna take forever to digest.”

They leaned back, shaking their head. “You’re not gonna need to eat for days... your digestive system will be too busy with this. Itll last you a good long while.”

you flushed.

Their friend shook their head, smirking.

“Man, you are gonna sleep so good tonight.” They huffed, rubbing slow circles over their packed belly.

“You think?”

“Duh.” Their friend pushed at the heavy curve of their gut, taut and round with its struggling occupant.

“That? That’s gonna knock you right out in a minute. Best sleep of your life.”

A low groan rumbled from their stomach, and they grimaced as something shifted inside. Their friend grinned.

“Damn. You look so stuffed.”

“I am,” they muttered.

“Bet you can barely move.”

“i can move…A little.”

Their friend clapped their hands together. “Alright. We gotta get you comfortable.”

Before they could argue, their friend was already helping them, guiding them to the big recliner by the couch.

They sank into it with a sigh, their swollen stomach settling heavily in their lap.

Immediately, their friend propped their feet up on the ottoman, taking the pressure off their middle. Then they grabbed a throw pillow and tucked it behind their back, followed by another one under their belly for extra support.

“Hold up,” their friend muttered, disappearing into the bedroom.

When they returned, they had a warm, fresh heat pad.

“Here. This’ll help.”

They blinked as their friend pressed it gently against the curve of their gut. The warmth seeped into them immediately, soothing the ache of the stretch and digestion.

“Oh…” They let out a slow breath. “That’s—nice.”

“uhuh.” Their friend flopped onto the couch and grabbed the remote.

“Alright. Let’s get a movie going.”

It was something they'd both seen before many times.

As the opening credits rolled, their friend shot them a glance.

“You still feel ‘em moving?”

They hesitated, pressing a hand against their belly. The weight inside wriggled, weak but definitely still moving.

A faint push pressed back against their palm.

“…Yeah.”

Their friend tsked. “Damn. Might keep struggling for a while. Its a big one, maybe that means it'll last longer. Less surface area or whatever I dont know.”

Their stomach let out another thick, wet glorp, working hard on its oversized meal. They sighed, shifting a little in the chair, one hand absently rubbing over the firm swell of their belly. The warmth, the fullness, the steady background noise of the movie—all of it was so nice. Their body was busy, still processing, and they already felt the creeping haze of sleepiness settling in.

Yeah. Their friend may be right. They yawned.

Their friend suddenly paused the movie, tilting their head.

A long, wet gllllrrk rumbled from their stomach, followed by a deeper, heavier

ggllurk.

“Ah,” their friend mused, glancing down at their belly. “That’s where all the noise is coming from.”

Heat rushed to their face.

“I—yeah, sorry.”

Another belch bubbled up before they could stop it, they hurried to clap a hand over their mouth.

Their friend chuckled.

“Dude, you don’t have to apologize. That’s normal.”

They swallowed thickly, cheeks still burning. “It’s just—uuorp--ugh—keeps happening.”

“Of course it does.” Their friend waved a hand. “You’ve got a lot in there..”

They pressed a hand to their belly, feeling the way it gurgled and churned beneath their palm.

Another low belch worked its way up, and they groaned, letting it out.

“urp…I feel bad for them,” they admitted quietly.

Their friend looked over, raising a brow.

“The borrower,” they muttered. “I mean, I just ate them.”

Their friend hummed, watching their stomach shift slightly with the last weak movements inside.

“Yeah. But, hey—you were hungry.”

Their gut let out another thick glorp, as if to confirm that.

They sighed, rubbing slow circles over the firm swell. The weight inside was settling more and more, the struggle fading into twitches.

The guilt was still there, pressing at the back of their mind, but then there was the warmth, the deep, heavy satisfaction of a real meal.

Their friend gave their belly an approving pat.

“Listen, borrowers make great meals.”

They swallowed, rubbing slow, absent circles over the taut swell of their gut. “I don’t know… it just feels weird.”

Their friend rolled their eyes. “You’re overthinking it. It’s way more ethical than buying meat.” They gestured vaguely. “No farming, no factories, no shipping—just straight from the source.”

They sighed, feeling another gurgling groan roll through their stomach.

“I mean, I guess…”

“And it’s free,” their friend added with a smirk. “You just saved yourself, what, a week’s worth of groceries?”

Their gut let out a slow, bubbling churn... all that food...

It really had been a long time since they’d felt this full.

Their friend stretched out on the couch

“you should enjoy this. It’s a treat. Quite rare. To catch one, let alone one so big.”

A quiet squirm made their belly wobble slightly, and they sighed, pressing a hand against it. It was so packed, so full, every inch stretched and rounded with the weight inside.

Their friend smirked. “And I mean look at that thing—that’s a big meal. A big treat.”

They licked their lips. Yes. Just a treat.

Working non-stop with no time to exercise got a tanuk looking like this…

Marcus returning to (mostly) human form after gorging himself on some poor soul. His stomach acid is extremely strong so while his skin/body can stretch to accomodate prey it doesnt have to for long before this is all thats left of them.