Breeder feeder

chapter 6

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6

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So, as it turns out, the price we’d gotten was actually pretty good. Apparently. So says Benshin. Fucking *** turd. Right. Apparently, so says Benshin, we’d gotten a pretty heavy discount because this male had some problems of his own, problems that just so happened to be potential boons for us, or at least neutralizable. But Doris, so said Benshin, didn’t need to know that.

The male was, in fact, to my apparently unreal luck, what was called a Feeder. My issue, it turns out, was not as unusual or despicable as Benshin had made it out to be (I don’t know if he’d been playing me somehow, but it seemed more likely he’d just been bored and irritated). Fattening a “running” breedpig was a relatively common way to two birds one stone, starting her hormones to turn her to a Breeder, while weighing her down with fat to discourage her from running, or as they phrased it, to discourage her from enjoying running. Or exercising. Or really most of the activities she’d liked before when she was thin. While simultaneously refilling her interests with “useful” activities, like eating and mating. But for intelligent soon-to-be-breeders, it could take quite a bit more to entertain them, and to change them, than the average runner. And thus there were Feeders: males bred to be attracted to feeding and fattening up females and to be attracted to fatter females in general. They were designed specifically to be extremely attractive to female APs, their physical appearance, but much more strongly, their pheromones.

They were trained from pubescence how to woo and attract females and then to leverage that, whether gently or with firmness (usually a mix of both) to make a female allow herself to be overfed. By the time they were actively employed, their success rate was close to 100%.

This male’s great problems were that his intelligence was a little too high, meaning he could get bored with a female that didn’t excite him or worry him, and that his attachment propensity was also too high, to the degree that if he fattened another female, longterm bonding may be inevitable, and the very counter-intelligence in a female that might keep him interested was also likely make the bonding much more likely and nigh unbreakable.

And so Doris had been trying to decide upon other options for him, up to and including starloading, mass mining, or even one-way seedships to the terraformed-but-uncolonized feral worlds (a well-trained workforce could be managed effectively by just a computer, and supplemented by the normal nanoassemblers and robotics), when I’d happened across them by idiot chance and Sweetcheek’s boredom and willfulness.

Dloffic had previously fed over a dozen females, but great care had been taken with the last few to keep his emotional exposure to a minimum and his time with them short. In spite of this, he’d put over 40 pounds on both of the last two in just a few months, and his lifetime sow pounds was nearly 600. Even so, he’d never been allowed sire himself, due to his undesirable intelligence and attachment propensity.

We, however, had no intention of keeping his exposure short. The opposite, in fact. Bonding, said Benshin, was the only thing that might tame our skinny piglet, and any intelligence issues would be someone else’s problem. Get it done, get her bred, sell the offspring, take the money, and run.

And so it came to pass that we brought Dloffic into our new stable beside the reinforced nest of Sweetcheeks, and they saw each other for the first time. Sweetcheeks, barely 4'11 and 100 pounds, looked up at him from a few feet away through the double bars, and he looked down at her, rather distantly. But she sniffed the air, and her pupils became wide in a way I’d never seen, and she just stared at him for several minutes, her nose wrinkling in the air at his thick musk. She walked forward to her bars, and he to his, and his thick cock swelled a bit and pulsed.

“Yahoo!!” Exclaimed Benshin, pointing at Dloffic’s reaction. Sweetcheeks startled a little, and the thickness of her hanging full ass, the only fat on her body, jiggled with a fullness as she turned to us for just a second. Dloffic swelled more, his eyes locked on her 36 inch bottom and 36 inch lower hips, descending from her 21 inch waist, 23 inch belly, and 28 inch upper hips.

But Sweetcheeks saw his eyes move out of the corner of hers, and turned back to him, leaning against the fence, and, sighed, looking slowly down from his eyes, until finally staring at his half-erect and 5 cm thick rod. It was only about 18 cm long as of now, but apparently it grew to almost 30 under high enough arousal, usually for a fully fat female. Said, Benshin, seeing him so firm already, with such a skinny sow, was an incredibly good and unusual sign. He slowly walked over behind Sweetcheeks and put his hands on her flanks and slowly but firmly slid them down her hips and around to the back of her protruding bottom. He knelt a bit behind the short slim piglet and lifted her plump cheeks gently up and slid his hand under them and between her thighs. A big grin went across his face again and he looked over to me and gestured silently to come near. I knelt beside him and bent my head over like his to look where he was looking, and he slowly lowered his hand from where he cupped her hairless vulva. It was a warm pink now, for the first time I’d ever seen, and her majora were swollen a little and parted slightly, and her flower-pink minor looked fuller and were significantly more visible and overt than I’d every seen them. But what he was showing me as his hand slowly dropped were the long strands of clear, wet, thick fluid suspended up from his fingers and palm to her vulva, and as I watched little thicker drops here and there slowly made their way down the thick threads to pool on his hand. I could smell her too, a thick sweet musk, very different from Dloffic and much milder, but striking and feminine and surprisingly similar to the smell of human pussy with just a bit of human sweat mixed in. We stood up slowly and walked back out her cage. I usually had to watch her like a hawk anytime I opened the door, but this time she didn’t even notice us leave, just kept staring, her mouth a little parted, panting even. A bit of drool was on her lips. And as we watched, her hand drifted down to her pussy, and she touched herself for the first time I’d ever seen. It was very unsual for an AP to be able to cum from masturbation, and so it was very unusual to see them masturbate, and she didn’t really, but she did touch herself, rubbing for moment her clitoris and lips and moaning, she bit the inside of her lip a little as she looked up at Dloffic with watery eyes. Benshin chuckled and pushed the button to close the wall dividing their cells.

“That’s enough for today, little pig," he said.

As he looked at me I couldn't help but smirk. "Thank you, Benshin. I didn't say it before, but thank you, for everything."

He put his hand on my shoulder. "Kid, call me Carl." We turned back to my little sow and the buck we owned together, separated from each other by an opaque wall. As we watched, Dloffic turned and went to evaluate his lodgings - so much bulk muscle on an AP was much less of a burden to feed than on a human, but it was no less a burden to carry around, and he quickly sunk himself into a pile of pillows in the corner of his stall. Sweetcheeks, though, just hung on the cage wall in front of her, waiting, shifting lightly but slowly from foot to foot, uncomfortable. The touch of concern on my face must have shown.

"That's a very, very good thing. Her attraction, their separation, all of this is to help us make these next steps easier. I don't think I've ever seen an unbred sow so attached so fast, and Dloffic's reaction to her was perfect, both for her sake and for ours." He patted his hand on my shoulder. “This, my friend, was a very good day. This might just all work out. We might just end up rich, rather than strapped up on Doris’s interi-dart board.”


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