Chapter 1

Peg Corino was big star. She had played arenas, stadiums, clubs, and every sort of venue you could think of. And all though she was reduced to playing the Monroe County Fair she was bigger than ever. About seventy pounds bigger. And after her admittedly lackluster attempts to dance and shake (more of a jiggle now) to her several hits (You bet my sweet @$$, BBQ Booty Cutie, and Truck Funk) to a sparse and disinterested audience on the west side stage she was going to treat herself. At least once she was done being yelled at by her manager.

“What is all this?” Hank Murrow said as he walked over to the picnic table Peg was sitting at in the ad-hoc food where she had spread out her purchased items ready to gorge herself.

“I mean I'm at a fair so I thought i’d like to try some fair food” she said innocently as if this was not a conversation she had before

“You know I’ve had a lot of clients. And they’ve all had problems. Gambling, drinking, heroin, sex addiction. Hell I represented a DJ who ate nothing but dry sheets. Do you know how hard it is to find a rehab for dryer sheets?”

“Gulp. Sorry i wasn't listening.” Peg said as she had begun to eat something from on a stick.

“What I was saying is you are the first client I’ve had who was eating her career to death. What is that you are eating anyway.”

“Fried butter.”

“Oh jesus.”

“and anyway its not fair to say that to me. I do also have a drinking problem. This solo cup is full of whiskey.”

Hank took a look as his ever expanding client and his ever expanding problem. When musicians got eating disorders weren't they supposed to eat too little. When he first met Peg she was a dainty shy little thing with a guitar. In the early days he had to beg her to eat a hamburger during a magazine profile to keep up the image of an all american girl who didn't care about her image.

She still had the same flowing blonde hair down to her shoulders and big green eyes. Her face was now as full as the moon and her nose was starting to look a might piggish in certain lights. She was reclining back in the plastic chair with her feet in cowboy boots propped up on a different chair. Her crossed legs looked more like denim sausages and her fat gut was becoming even more prominent as she moved from the fried butter to the fried coca cola. The only saving grace her could see was that her tits were growing in tandem with her stomach. Her specially made and chosen western button down shirts was holding up bravely under the circumstances.

“You know I could get you a personal trainer, a dietician, a chef? Then when you are down to a reasonable weight we can get some songwriters to get you a new hit and then we start the comeback.” he said.

“I write my own songs and I choose my own diet.”

“Well you haven't done one of those things and the thing you have done you are doing incredibly poorly.”

“Why are you spoiling this for me Hank. You are going to put me of eating my snacks.”

“I wish. “ and as he said that the button that was holding Peg’s shirt together finally gave out and popped off the shirt and into the grass.

“Uh oh.” and she felt her stomach finding the shirt open revealing her pink juicy navel. “Could you see if you can ind that button for me?”

“Im not getting in the grass to look for the button your fat gut busted out of.”

“Ok whatever I have a better idea.” and she stood up and began undoing the buttons on her shirt below her breasts.

“What are you doing? Look I’ll find the buttons.”

“Never mind she said as she tied the ends of her shirt together into a knot below her sternum showing off her belly in all its glory. It hung over her jeans like a pink teardrop. she had a small beauty mark right to the left of her cute little navel. Peg gave herself a little rub feeling the fullness and softness of her belly as she sat down back on her chair to give her tummy a little sun.

“Ok you know what? that is it.”

‘What?”

I’m sick of watching you make a pig of yourself. You know why I wanted to meet you here? To show you your future.”

“My future?

“Look over there” he pointed across the way to the agriculture pavilion. “If you keep eating like that the only way you'll get a gig here is as a contestant in the Plumpest Pig Competition.”

Peg reached down and squeezed her belly and jiggled it at him. “Ooh do you think I’d have a chance.”

Hank got up and went across the way to a table and grabbed something off it. He came back holding it aloft like a weapon as he walked swiftly back. It was a giant blue ribbon. Hank pulled off the paper off the back and then stuck the ribbon directly onto Peg’s stuffed tummy. As he did he felt the substantial jiggle and pert softness of her belly. One of his fingers slid perfectly into her deep bellybutton which gave her a jolt to her toes.

She looked down at the ribbon which on the front read: FIRST PLACE PRIZE PORKER

“Well Hank you really know how to make a girl feel special. Should I just wear it around? Pose for selfies?”

“look I'm sorry but you need a wakeup call and I don’t know anything else. I’ll call you if I get any more work for you. Enjoy the rest of your… whatever you call this” and he went off in a huff.

As he left the area a thin young man in mid thirties came and tried to wave down Hank but it was too late. “ I say young lady do you know that man he took a ribbon and I need…” he said as he turned and got an eyeful and a half of Peg.

“So what, do you think i don't have a chance.” she said as she raised her hands above her head and shimmied her belly seductively.

“It’s not that at all. And i’m one to judge being the lovelock judge after all. I just don't think you want to win that particular medal.” he said smiling.

“And why not?” she lowered her arms and grasped her own love handles and jiggled her belly.

“Well traditionally the winner of that prize gets cooked tonight. So unless you want to accompany me to the smoker…” he grabbed one of Peg’s hands and pulled her to a standing position. “you better hand it over.”

“Too bad it would have looked great next to my CMA award and my daytime Grammy. Feel free to just grab it. But please be gentle to my tender tummy.” she leaned back on the edge of the picnic table her plump ass rubbing against the edge.

He quickly walked right up to her his face almost touching hers. She didn't see him pull the ribbon off but she felt it resist his removal. She then felt his other hand slowly trace a line across her belly. “Now if you are still interested in my professional opinion and want a more in-depth “inspection this is my number.” his hands slipped a business card into her tight almost Potemkin pockets. “And one more thing.”

Peg was getting a little hot and bothered. This pig thing was wild. She didn't realize how much she was into being compared to livestock. If he offered to lead her over to a animal stall and *** right there she might in a second accidentally agree to it.”Whats that she sighed.”

And with that he reached under her overflowing belly and grabbed the wrong of her jeans and unbuttoned them. Before she realized what happened he said. “Constricting blood flow is not good. Its bad for the meat.” and gave her belly a little pat before running off with her medal and leaving her to the remains of her fair food feast. Only then did she notice her stomach was covered in crumbs. “oh shoot.”

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Hours later at her cheap motel Peg had gotten more comfortable. She tossed her boots in the corner wiggling her plump little toes in freedom. Her jeans crumpled to the ground their eventual ability to return to her body always doubtful now. Her button down replaced with an old tour crop top. She sat in bed, drank cheap whiskey and watched tv over her own belly. She dozed in and out as the sun went down thinking about that guy. His card retrieved from her jeans it read Jules Dern livestock inspector. She though about his hands and started to dream.

She dreamed he pulled her by the arm to the tent across the way. The sign above reading The Pork Palace! she was pulled inside and she saw a slew of small tables with large pigs standing on them getting examined. He lead her to one near the center and tapped the top of it and motioned her to sit on it. She plopped down confused about what was going on.

“now we are going to see if you deserve that ribbon my little Peg Corino” he said tapping the ribbon on her jiggling tummy. as he stood between her spread legs hanging off the platform.

“First lets see those trotters” he said lifting her feet up and pushing her to laying down on the table. Those thousand dollar boots were off in a flash followed by her black dress socks. Her pink painted nails matched the plump perfection of her wriggling toes. He gave the soles of her feet a little massage. “Very nice. High marks. Next to the hams.” and he began grabbing for the waist band of her jeans. Nervous Peg grabbed his hands and tried to slow him down.

“Now wait is this such a good idea? I mean people are watching.”

“Shhh, Shhh. Be quiet. Pigs don't talk. If you want that ribbon you better keep it to just oinks and squeals.”

“But..Oink?” and then Peg seemed to loose the power of speech. “Oink. Oink!”
“That’s better.” and he pulled off her jeans while she was distracted. revealing acres of soft pink flesh of thighs and calves all white from being out of the sun for so long. Jules slowly felt his way up her legs to her thighs making sure to test their firmness and softness, his hands making deep impressions into her plump upper thighs. His fingers glancingly touching her pussy barely concealed by a pair of sheer black panties. Peg was both excited and relaxed. His