I heard Aug. 8 is vore day but I missed it, so here is a late picture for vore day.
 
EDIT: I got a story from doomfister! If you like it, go look for him on aryion ( https://aryion.com/g4/user/doomfister ). :D
 
 
Story below  
––  
Sandwich’s belly was beyond bloated, the forms of half a dozen mares packing out the grumbling gut as it ballooned into a blimp sized orb of quaking flesh. Each devoured mare making a shadow in her stomach, as they writhed helplessly within the straining digestive sack, hitting nerves in the stretched thin body cavity in an almost ticklish manner.
 
Feeling a burp brewing, Sandwich placed a frog to her lips and stifled the gaseous eruption, her gut rolling in response as it grew slightly tighter to throttle her jostling cargo. The equine shapes within her slotting together and in too much of a panic for Sandwich to communicate in any meaningful way telepathically, causing the earth pony to simply ignore them as her gut converted them into a more workable form for their conversion to her future symbiote slime brood.
 
Normally this was rather messy, as the first time Sandwich had partaken in a portion of pony flesh had ruined a perfectly good carpet. But this vaginal seepage would not be an issue at this gorging, as Bug had taken every precaution, upon hearing about Sandwich’s unique traits over a spot of tea with a very embarrassed Line. The resourceful slate mare leading Sandwich to a throne-like chair which had a hole in the bottom for one seated to discard their biological leavings, in a manner not dissimilar to a toilet. Bug removing some hoof restraints on the arms to make it look a bit more appealing as clearly it was not normally used by willing guests. This chamber pot a sure-fire collection device for the future slime brood, and Sandwich would not be disappointed by Bug’s gift to indulge, Line just rolling her eyes and excusing herself as she wanted no part in this hedonistic debauchery.
 
It had started fast, and one by one a conveyer belt had brought mare after mare, who lay shivering and bound in tight leather straps, what was sure to digest with their delicious bodies. The sensation of mewling bulges slipping between her collarbones simply heavenly, as Sandwich ingested her quarry to a series of lewd moans at the divine flavors of her gagged prey. The lesser females soon to be naught but chyme in her gut and secretions from her sopping wet horse cunt. At some point during the swallowing Bug slipped an armband over Sandwich’s foreleg baring the number 8, before the earthpony made a few notes as she watched the seated Sandwich inhale pony after pony. A few biometric suction cup sensors joining the fray, that soon festooned Sandwich’s body as Bug wanted as much empirical data on her newfound friends’ biological mechanism, from this excessive feeding.
 
Soon Sandwich’s stomach was packed to bursting, the swollen mare was about to call it quits after the tickling of a 5th tail slipped over the tonsils and down her throat. Her stomach bulging like hyper pregnancy, as the fettered mares slotted together in the most economical way to endure their assimilation into the frame of the more powerful mare. Each muffled mare had slipped down her gullet headfirst, the earth ponies ideal for ingestion as they lacked any annoying horns or flailing feathers, so they flowed in easily and made twitching bulges that locked together like jigsaw pieces in her crammed gut. The ponies stacked together like sardines as they could do nothing but marinate in the tart gut and await their bodies future fates as flank fat.
 
“Bug, I think I am good,” said Sandwich groggily, as she again burped as her belly bounced with the struggles of half a ton of horse meat. The request going on deaf ears as Bug whispered something to the last bound mare, the words causing her to shudder and start crying as if a cigarette had been extinguished on her hide. Before with a press of a button, the blue mare was whisked upwards and drifting gently towards Sandwich’s waiting maw to the roar of a mechanized system.
 
Rolling her eyes, Sandwich just opened her mouth and prepared to receive her pony, she was sure her stomach could hold one more unwilling passenger. Drool coming to Sandwich’s tongue as she wondered what fruity flavor this crying treat might have. Her dessert had other ideas as she wriggled in her binds, but just like the rest, she oozed down to the stomach leaving a sweet after taste that mixed into a cocktail of delight with each of Sandwich’s burps. The oral eruptions frequent, as over the next few hours she metabolized Bug’s gift to her into a nutrient broth and her future sprogs. This making the angular protrusions in her barrel smooth out and deflate as the ponies were relegated to their fate, leaving Sandwich just the lingering question of when Bug would buy her dinner again………………