The soft hum of the city was a distant lullaby, barely audible through the thick windows of your apartment. You were sprawled on the couch, half-watching a documentary, half-lost in the comfortable silence shared with Kiara. Her massive, eight-foot frame, a sleek expanse of gray cyborg wolf fur and polished metal, was curled up beside you, somehow managing to fit without entirely engulfing the furniture. Her messy black hair, usually wild, was a surprisingly soft pillow against your arm.

Suddenly, your phone buzzed, followed by a chorus of alerts from the street below. Kiara’s own internal comms probably pinged too, though she gave no outward sign. You picked up your device, squinting at the all-caps notification flashing across the screen: "ATTENTION CITIZENS: VORE DAY HAS OFFICIALLY BEGUN. PROCEED WITH CAUTION AND ENJOY."

Your eyes, wide with a mix of disbelief and resignation, slowly drifted from the screen to Kiara. Her single visible purple eye, a vibrant gem against her cybernetic features, met yours. A beat of silence passed, thick with unspoken thoughts.

Then, Kiara’s monotone voice cut through the air, completely flat. "If you’re thinking I’m gonna eat you, I’m not."

As if to contradict her, a deep, resonant rumble echoed from within her substantial abdomen. It wasn’t a growl, more like a cavernous shift. She paused, raising a brow, then added, “It would be… inefficient. And messy for the couch.” She patted her belly with a large, metallic paw. “But the need is present. I must procure sustenance.”

With a collective sigh, you both rose. You grabbed your keys, and Kiara, with surprising grace for her size, uncoiled herself from the sofa. The apartment suddenly felt small as she stood at her full height. The city’s distant hum now felt more like a hungry thrum as you stepped out of the building and onto the bustling street.

It didn't take long. Vore Day brought out a certain kind of… participant. A man, overly confident and practically preening in a bright yellow tracksuit, strutted past, clearly seeking attention. Kiara’s purple eye locked onto him. Without a word, she moved.

One moment he was there, posturing, and the next, Kiara had simply enveloped him. She didn’t bite or chew; it was a swift, almost elegant motion. Her massive maw opened wider than seemed possible, and the tracksuit man vanished headfirst, then entirely, into her gullet. Her throat rippled, a fascinating, terrifying display of biological and mechanical synergy, as he descended.

Her belly, previously substantial but flat, began to swell rapidly, stretching taut the fabric of her pants. You could see the distinct outline of the man, kicking and squirming furiously inside. Kiara burped, a surprisingly delicate sound for its origin, and patted her distended stomach. The kicks lessened, becoming more of a rhythmic thumping.

She looked down at you, her purple eye unblinking. "Can I have more?" she asked, her voice still perfectly level, as if she’d just asked for another cup of coffee.

Before you could answer, there was a sharp RIIIP! Her pants, strained to their absolute limit, split from waistband to thigh. The tearing sound exposed her now enormous, round butt, a testament to the meal she’d just consumed. Kiara didn't even flinch. She simply waited, her gaze unwavering, for your decision. The thumping inside her belly was a steady, rhythmic beat against her skin.