Satan's Hog

Chapter 1

*** THE STORY SO FAR ***

Michael is a skinny, repressed 20-year-old with a hidden desire to be fat but an unwillingness to indulge his deepest fantasy. The Devil appears to him and makes an offer with no apparent catch; he will make Michael fat for one hour, in return for absolutely nothing. Michael agrees, and rapidly gains weight until he's 480 pounds. He has gleeful, wholesome fun with his new weight, until the Devil starts feeding him without his permission. Michael reluctantly goes along with it, getting more and more stuffed and gaining more and more weight until he finally gets horny. The Devil fondles him and jerks him off, innocently asking "wouldn't you like to be fat forever?" In the throes of passion, Michael screams "YES!" and the Devil disappears, leaving Michael alone to realise that he'd been tricked into being fat forever. (for more read Aggressive Expansion).

In the aftermath, Michael tries to adjust to life as a skinny boy in the body of a hugely obese man. He drops out of college and gets a soul-crushing call centre job, shrinking further inside himself and giving into a life of numbness and repression. Then he meets Ferdie, a sweet Australian boy who takes an interest in him. They go on dates and fall in love, but Michael can't escape his self-hatred, amplified by going out with a guy he feels he doesn't deserve.

These feelings come to a head when they have sex for the first time and Michael accidentally breaks Ferdie's rib, and his self-loathing spills out as he tells Ferdie he can't go out with him anymore and that being with him is like his own personal hell. That's when he slowly realises, as Ferdie starts to horrifyingly change to his true form, that Ferdie was the Devil the whole time. Not satisfied with cursing Michael to be fat forever, the Devil decided to play with his heart and amplify his anxieties and insecurities to torture him further. He once again leaves Michael distraught, but this time is different. Michael decides that enough is enough, and he's going to reverse the curse, one way or another ... (for more read "Aggressive Expansion: 8 Years Later")

*** okay, back to the story ***



The first thing I did after deciding to find a way to reverse the curse was get an everything burrito. It's weird, the whole time I've been fat I've never eaten more than I need to, never really done anything unhealthy. Not because I was really motivated - I was depressed as hell - but because, like, what's the point? Now though, I actually FELT something, and I felt excited enough to indulge in a food I usually wouldn't bother with. This was brain food, and I wouldn't be fat much longer. I promised myself this.

I spent a month researching the occult. It felt ridiculous; of course there wasn't gonna be anything about being cursed into obesity after getting tricked in the heat of horniness. It made my cheeks burn just thinking about asking an occult specialist about my specific case, but I did, and they were strangely comforting, albeit in a slightly deluded will-believe-anything kind way. No one gave me one answer, though, but there was one common thread in every discussion full of ointments, candles, and blood sacrifices; passing on the curse.

Like HIV, or the demon in It Follows, which is a metaphor for HIV. I didn't know how to feel about this; cursing someone else with my stupidity forever? It didn't make me feel really guilty, to be honest. I deserve a life, I've had this weighty (heh) burden for a long time, and if the person I give it to finds a way to get rid of it, good for him. Or her. I'm not gonna discriminate, and the BBW community is actually a lot bigger and more fervent than the FFA community. If they found that community and found a way to enjoy being fetishised, they'd have a jolly old time!

The question was, how to pass it on? I decided that the most likely way to do it would be the same way it was given to me; ask them if they want to be fat, and have them say yes. I might have to get them really horny, too, so they really, really mean it in the heat of the moment. My mind flashed back to my hot face, my thunder thighs spread wide, thrashing with pent-up ecstasy, brain short-circuiting... ugh. Yeah, I'd have to get them riled up. Just in case. I'd have to find a repressed little fat admirer who would utterly cream themselves just from seeing my body, and I'd have to get into it myself to lure them into my trap.

Easy. At least, I hoped it'd be easy. My future was counting on it. I made a chaser-baiting Twitter account with pictures of my big belly and videos of me giving it a shake, and it didn't take long for the DMs to pour in.

"ur so sexy hehe"

"wow, your body is amazing!!"

"damn, how'd you get so big piggy??"

*dick pic*

"hey"

"face pics?"

"wyd"

"omg you're so hot, if u don't mind me saying! I'd love to be that big~"

Bingo. @datdingo was my victim. A furry too, by the looks of his profile. A closeted fat admirer too, by the looks of his muscled fursona. I bet he was a shy little twink who's super ashamed of his desired, so repressed that he didn't even take part in the accepting fat fur community. I didn't get to his message within a day, it was kinda lost in the tsunami of DMs, but that didn't matter; he messaged me another three times, apologetically but too horny to resist. He was PERFECT.

That finally brings us to right now, the present. We've been talking, and he's perfect. He loves my body, I've been teasing him with pictures, and we're about to video chat. He said he doesn't want to show his face, and that's fine by me; I don't want to feel guilt by looking in his eyes, but I do wanna see him. It's obvious he's gonna jerk off to what I do, and seeing him will rile me up as much as I need to, and also, more importantly, prove to me that it worked.

I've got a pizza, burgers and donuts waiting, some baby oil on my desk, my tightest t-shirt and shorts on. I've pressed the call button. I'm ready. It's time to make a fatty.