chapter 4 - introductions

The next few weeks played out pretty much the same. Brandi worked to increase Ellie’s appetite in preparation for her new owner, and Ellie had no choice but to eat and gain.

It was subtle at first. While her belly never was given time to truly settle, she still had definition in her bi- and triceps; years of hard labor couldn’t be erased overnight. But a few weeks into her orientation, a layer of fat was coating her degrading muscles. She was softer, smoothing out the arms she used to be so proud of. Her thighs developed a jiggle every time she walked, which she was not given permission to do often. Brandi would only do so to track how weak she was becoming, and she was so proud of the town’s transforming piglet.

It had been a whole month. A month of not being allowed to speak. A month of feedings, of being shown off to her former peers, of being seen as less and less human. An entire month of not being allowed to deny the now daily sensation of pleasure on her tongue and in her stomach.

The first week she had been the most resistant. Back before her life was changed, Ellie was respected for her contributions as much as anyone else constructing the town. She moved equipment and supplies, she helped build fences and homes, she did it all without complaint. It was necessary, this hard work would pay off for everyone and help us survive, she had thought.

About a week in, Brandi took Ellie out on her rope leash to the town square. It was different from what Ellie remembered, a giant scale was bolted into the concrete, the same concrete she helped pave with Beth and several others not just a couple months ago…

It wasn’t fair! Why was she selected? She worked just as hard as everyone else. She contributed! Pigs were criminals, a way to display and mock the behaviors that could and would tear their society apart. No one fit that description here, so why the hell did there need to be a damn “Town Pig” in the first place?

Brandi tugged at Ellie’s neck, but she would have no more. Grabbing the rope and standing up, she screamed.

“No! No more! I”m not your fucking pig!”

She expected Brandi to be angry. To scold and harm her in front of everyone. But she simply gave a short chuckle.

Ellie was denied many things when she became the Town Pig: access to a normal shower, the ability to wear clothes that were not stretchy or pink…a mirror…

The Pig wobbled as she jetted upward, nearly losing her balance until Brandi placed her hand on her back to stabilize her. Ellie’s belly poked out just slightly from her shirt, her pants having rolled down to let it through. Grease, chocolate, various syrups and sauces concealed most of her pink shirt in a variety of colors. Her face still had smears of chocolate from a cake Brandi personally fed her moments before, an increasingly favorite part of her day.

A crowd had gathered and laughter slowly broke out as more and more people’s attention were brought to this disgusting display of greed. Ellie heard a couple whispers. “Worthless pig” she swore a woman said into someone’s ear. “Gross, ew” and similar sentiments were even more common.

It wasn’t worth fighting. She slumped back down onto all fours, and followed Brandi to the scale.

“Congratulations, piglet! You weigh 146 pounds!”

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Unfortunately for Brandi, she couldn’t stay forever. More towns needed help setting up, more orientations needed to be completed, more pigs needed creating to have any chance of success. As regretful as it was, she needed to say goodbye.

But she’d be putting Ellie in good hands.

Brandi sat behind the piglet, lifting her back and head into her lap and chest. She gently rubbed her belly as she spoke.

“Oh my sweet piglet, I’m so sorry, but this is where we must part.” Ellie moaned slightly, focused more on the pain consuming her belly and the relief Brandi was generous enough to provide.

“But don’t worry, while your orientation is over, and so is your new keeper’s. You’ll both be starting your new lives together today.”

The piglet was moaning into sleep, but Brandi gently shook her awake and lifted her to all fours. Her eyes followed Brandi to the entrance of her stall, where she adjusted the crooked whiteboard proudly displaying “169” to any onlookers walking by. She continued to the open doorway, where a familiar, young woman with wavy brown hair pulled back into a ponytail and an apron powdered in flour rested her arm on the frame..

“She’s all yours, Elizabeth.”