My Little Piggy

The force-feeding had continued for a year, perhaps two. Once a day I was strapped in and forced to guzzle down a barrel full of the vile slop that had become my diet. Over time they became slightly more bearable as my belly stretched and I grew in size. This relief didn't last long however as it was soon decided that I should move up to two feedings per day. From that point it wasn't long until I absolutely ballooned in size.

I had always been a bit chubby but as the months passed I put on weight at an alarming rate and soon got to the point where I was morbidly obese; before long I was utterly enormous. The extra weight made it more difficult for me to move around and on a hot day I would be dripping with sweat. Every week Lola would put me on the scales and each time I put on weight she would pat my head, telling me how well I was coming along and how proud she was of her little piggy.

All along I knew that she shouldn't be doing this to me, the feedings were inhumane and the extra weight could cause me some serious health problems, but I had to admit my quality of life had massively improved since agreeing help her transform me. For a time I hated what she was doing to me, but even so I couldn't help but enjoy having the attention of such a beautiful woman. With every touch or kind word I seemed to fall for her deeper than ever and suddenly the torment she put me through didn't seem to matter so much.

As the months turned into years, the part of me that resented her disappeared all together. I accepted my place as Lola's pig, and found I gradually thought about my old life less and less. There was the odd moment of weakness of course, nights where I'd wake up with tears streaming down my face, some part of me realising what I'd lost and aching to return to normality; fortunately Lola fixed that for me as well.

The real turning point had been the day she'd come back 'from the vets' with some special new medicine for me. She promised it would get rid of those silly parts of my brain that still thought I was a person, and she was right. Every morning she'd inject my flabby buttocks with this medicine, and each time she did my old life drifted further and further away.

The medicine dulled my brain, taking away my ability to think anything but the most basic of thoughts; food, drink, warmth, sex. These were the only things a piggy like me needed to concern itself with, Lola explained kindly to me one night, as I drifted to sleep beside her feet. It also suppressed my body's ability to feel full, so no matter how much Lola fed me, I'd just keep eating. Mercifully, this meant an end to the forced-feedings, as Lola knew I'd eat anything she cared to put in front of me. Of course, it also meant I was constantly ravenous with no way to satisfy my hunger; an endless torture from which I could never escape. But as Lola said, a greedy little pig like me should always be hungry, so I guess it's what I deserve.

My thoughts returned to the present as I realised I'd almost finished the whole trough already. Snorting loudly, I snuffled the last scraps of food up from the weathered metal surface, then tottered over to where Lola sat reading a book in the sun, and collapsed at her feet.

Lola smiled down as she saw me, placing a bare foot across my face as a sign of her affection. She knew how I still lusted after her, and that the chance to spend a morning sniffing her toes would make me a very happy pig indeed. I hadn't been allowed an orgasm in years, little treats like this were the closest I had to a sex life now I was nothing more than a farmyard animal.

As I lay in the morning sun, enjoying the heavenly scent of my owner's feet, I couldn't help but reflect on how being a pig had made me truly happy for the first time in my life. Lola had taken away my freedom but in a strange way given me so much more. I hadn't really been happy with my life before I met her. Yes I'd go out drinking with my friends or go to watch my local football team and enjoy myself. But I spent most of my time scared of being alone and fantasising about women who would never be interested in me.

Now I would never be alone again. All I had to worry about was being the best pet I possibly could to the beautiful, flame haired woman who owned me; the woman whose toes traced idly over my skin as she relaxed in the sunshine. Sure, she'd taken away my life, force-fed me until I was morbidly obese and made me live in a pig sty in her garden, but that didn't matter; I didn't expect any more than I had. After all, I was just her little piggy.