<span style="font-weight: bold">Christina Rumbletum</span><br/>{Jules attack uses his roll of five, which is degree of success three, two of which are reduced by Christina's Mental Defence of two, leaving one damage to her Mental HP. Since she has one Mental HP remaining, Christina is reduced to zero Mental HP and 'defeated'... i.e. Jules has successfully explained the tech problem and his dealing with it without antagonising her...}<br/><br/>Christina giggles, and her breasts jiggle interestingly as she does... and so too does the digested mass of man remaining in her still somewhat distended gut. "Well, it wasn't like the popular vores ever gave me the time of day either," she smiles. "Most of them were more interested in the brothers of their friends, and the tasty-looking releasees.<span style="font-style: italic">They</span>could get invitations to the popular parties," she paused, thinking back. "Briefly." Many of the popular guys had transitioned smoothly from invitee to appetiser at one party or another. Some, she recalled with a mixture of fondness and regret, had slid down her own jealous throat in an attempt to hurt their vorish girlfriends and sisters... none of whom had seemed terribly bothered by the loss. Others had escaped into the protection of matrimony... but who stayed married to their high-school sweetheart when there was the wide world of college to explore, and most of those unions had ended in digestion divorces, pictures of bellies bulging with soon-to-be ex-husbands far outnumbering those swollen with new life in their social media status updates.<br/><br/>"Well, it's not a Mom and Poop farm, it's an industrial concern," Christina continues, "but I suppose the staff canteen will be pretty well-stocked. I won't be hungry when I get back to the office - or, when I go home, if this goes all day." She pauses as her tum gurgles, and grins as she lightly rubs it. "I don't think the pizza place will like it if I eat any more of their deliveryboys. We're still in the third week of the month," a week away from the first-of-the-month release day, when thousands of stockboys, the top ten or so percent lucky enough to earn their freedom, would be cast into this world of hungry vores... most of the inexperienced little lambs would see the inside of a stomach for the first and only time before the next month rolled around... and they'd still have lived far longer than their brothers who were<span style="font-style: italic">sold</span>as stock. "I'll call if there's trouble," Christina flashes a smile as she turns to go, and its obvious that her rump is as firm and plump as you'd expect given the number of men's lives that've likely fed its perfection - and with her jeans pulled tight by her swollen tum, you can see every curve. She pauses, turns back. "I might swing by when I'm finished, to let you know how it went," she says, "or call or something."<br/><br/>{In other circumstances, that might've been a sexual attack, possibly using her vore bonus if she were intent on devouring him. In this case, however, Jules gets to ogle Christina without consequence...}