The contest

Chapter 1 - the contest

Imagine being led out on stage, with a collar around your neck, wearing a bikini your master could barely get over your hog fattened hips.
You're placed on all fours in front of an audience, your huge gut hanging heavily, your wide hips quivering slightly as your belly jiggles to a stop.
Your master has entered you into a Prize Piggy contest and expects to win first prize because you're the fattest hog he's ever fed up.
The crowd quiets, and your master begins by slapping your wide ass so the crowd can see how much you jiggle - they cheer. People shout,
"She's a FAT pig!"
"I didn't think pretty girls could get that fat!"

"What have you been feeding her!"

Your master smiles to himself. It's true what they are shouting: you are the greediest hog he's seen. He runs his rough hand along your soft, fattened lower back and moves around beside you. He lifts your huge hanging gut and let's it fall heavily. Wobble, wobble, wobble, wobble. The crowd gasps at the sight of such an overfed belly, such an overstuffed pig.
They've never seen a pig so ***ing fat (or so beautiful.)
You begin to sweat lightly from the embarassment, the shame. 'They're right,' you think, 'I'm a huge fat pig that can't control her eating.' And you know you're destined to grow fatter, prize hogs always do. You're turned on by the thought. You scold yourself , "I shouldn't be feeling this way, getting so turned on by being such a jiggly, wobbly fatty." But you can't help it, your desire to grow fatter, to grow softer, to grow WIDER, is inescapable. You find yourself more turned on than ever. Your soft hog belly hanging like over ripe fruit, quivering with even the smallest movement. Your breath quickens. You're so wet now, your juices begin to tickle down the insides of your thighs. Your master runs his work-worn hand along the curve of your over-ripe gut. The crowd oohs and aahs again.
He struggles slightly as he lifts your belly again so the crowd can see how much of it is pure piggy butter fat. He grunts slightly at the effort, "God you're getting huge," he whispers close to your ear. You feel his whiskers brush lightly against your plump cheeks. He smells of vanilla and tobacco. Your breath quickens again. Food. It's all you can think of. That, and growing fatter. You love being turned into a FAT FAT pig. It's all you've dreamed of since your were young. And now it's happening: it's out of your control. You wanted to be fattened, you need to be fattened, fattened into a greedy, overstuffed sex-pig. Used for feeding, fattening and ***ing. Your master moves along your body and begins to squeeze your soft fat upper arms.
He towers above you, smiling. He is tall and handsome and proud. You were so scrawny when he picked you out of a crowd of other girls at the market. You had just a hint of a tummy then; he noticed right away you kept staring at all the sweets. He knew then he could coax out your inner piggy. He lifts you chin by pressing lightly underneath. With his other hand he begins to lightly pinch that double chin you've been growing lately. There's plenty of chub there to pinch. "Oink for the crowd, piggy," he whispers, "show them how a good fat girl behaves." Hot shame rushes through your body as you release three loud snorting oinks. Oink, Oink, Oink. The crowd gasps.
Your master tickles your chin and whispers again, "You're so nice and fat pig, squeal for them, show them what a greedy, fat, hungry sow you've become." You do as you're told. Squeal, squeal, squeal.
Your master raises you to your feet by tugging at your collar. You feel your fat jiggling as you stand. With gentle push to your soft wide lower back, he moves you to the front of the stage. God your bikini is so tight. You can feel it biting into your wide soft hips. Your master stands behind you. He runs a finger lightly down your neck, "Such a good, obedient fat pig," he whispers. You feel his hands slide down your flanks, lightly pinching, jiggling, exploring your fat. He slides his rough hands under your heavy jutting belly and begins to squeeze and knead your blubber-fat for the crowds pleasure. "Oh my god, she's a huge PIG!" someone yells as your master continues to knead and grab. You flush with shame, your nipples stiffen. All your fat is on display, people are commenting, taking pictures, recording what a fat greedy pig you've become.
"Spread your legs," he whispers again. You spread your legs as wide as you can comfortably. Your soft, meaty inner thighs are still touching. You flush again when you realize just how big you've become. Your master slides his hand up your inner thigh and begins to squeeze all the piggy-lard you've packed on there. You feel yourself moisten. "God, why is this turning me on so!?" you say to yourself. "I'm a fat, greedy hog, I'm so embarassed, but I can't stop eating - or thinking about sex." Your master grabs handful after handful of soft thigh meat. A woman in the front row says, "Oh my, she's gotten HUGE, I could never let myself go like that. Does she even know how fat she is. Can you imagine how that FAT PIG must jiggle when she walks."
Your heart jumps as a buzzer sounds from the back of the room. Your master roughly grabs one of your huge piggy tits and turns you toward the exit. Your feel your heavy, hanging belly wobble and shake as you waddle off stage. You're so ashamed (and horny). Your master stops you just before you leave the stage and turns your back to the audience. The crowd gasps at how wide and soft you are. "Oh dear, she must measure at least a metre wide back there," a woman says. Her friend adds "Now we know where she puts all those late night snacks." Your master laughs as you flush once again. He pinches a thick roll of back fat and uses it to direct you off stage.Once off stage, your turn your large brown eyes to your master, "I'm hungry," you say with slight embarrassment. He pats your round, sagging belly, "I know, piggy, I know."
He lets go your back-fat roll and clips a leash into your collar. You're led you off stage to a heavy black curtain behind some rigging levers. He pulls back the edge of the curtain, opens a black door, and motions you through. You twist slightly to keep your wide piggy hips from wedging you into the door jamb and step into the room.
The room is filled with long black tables piled high with pastries, cakes ands sweets. Other contestants were milling around, eating, and waiting for the results to be announced. You're easily the fattest pig here and people stare and murmur to one another. With another gentle tug, your master leads you to a table in the center of the room covered with cupcakes and cream filled pastries.
Two chubby pigs, one redhead and one brunette, step aside to make room for you. 'Oh my god, she's gotten huge since last year," the brunette whispered to her friend. "I know, I bet all she does is sit on that big *** and stuff her ***ing face," her friend replied. The two piggies giggled at your obvious weight gain.
Your master pulls a small wooden trough from under the table and clears a place among the pastries. He smiles and plants a soft kiss on your full piggy lips. He unwraps cupcakes; piled high with creamy ,pink frosting, into the main body of the trough. At the upturned edges ,he places golden cream horns oozing with light yellow filling. Your mouth waters.
He tickles the underside of your soft, heavy belly, swipes a long finger through some frosting and pushes it between your lips. You ache with anticipation. Your nipples stiffen. You moan as the creamy, sugary frosting disolves rich,warm. You swallowed hungrily and warmth spread from your lower belly to your inner thighs. "Does my fat, fat piggy want a little snack?" he asks. You plead with big, brown eyes. He laughs and tugs gently on your leash, leading your face to the trough.
You stretched your neck slightly and push your greedy snout into the soft pile of cakes and cream horns. You can't help it; you began grunting and oinking,oinking and grunting as you hog-munch your way through the sweet-filled trough.
"Holy shit, look at that ***ing hog eat," says the chubby brunette.
A crowd gathers as you continued to grunt and gobble and gulp.
The back of your neck felt hot with shame. You know they're watching, but you've lost control. Sweat prickles the small of your back. You hear their comments, but all you could think of was stuffing more, more,more, into your heavy ,bulging belly. And so it goes: Mmrph, snorglmph, gulpmnpf , your bloated pig belly tightens with food.

"My god, look at her, she's huge and getting ***ing bigger by the minute," said one.

"She should be ashamed," said another, " look at that enormous belly, look at the way it's, it's an overstuffed bag of pig-fat,".

The chubby redhead and brunette stand stark still, mouths agape, in awe of your abject gluttony. Your fat piggy tits rest on the table edge, your enormous wide ass jiggle-jutting out towards the crowd. Your hog belly wobbles violently as you munch and gobble even faster. Your master gives the two chubbies a quick nod of consent .

The redhead comes along side you and massages your overfilled belly.
"God, you're a huge ***ing pig, look how tight this hog belly is."
The brunette slaps and squeezes your soft wide hips. Everyone in the crowd watches all your fat jiggle. She strokes lightly between your legs, running a finger up the insides of your fat thighs and then pulls aside your bikini and gently slides a finger inside your warm, slick ***. You gasp.
The redhead forces a handful of cream horn into your eager mouth. Your belly swells even tighter. "Oh god," you pant through a mouthful of food, "I shouldn't love this but I do."
"That's it piggy, ***ing stuff it in," said the redhead, "I can't wait to see you in a few more months, god, you're going to be ENORMOUS."
Chew, chew, chew, munch, munch, munch, you feed in a frenzy and soon most of the trough is empty. The crowd presses in, drawn by your greed.
2 chapters, created StoryListingCard.php 10 years , updated 10 years
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Chubbysubby 10 years
I came reading that. Wonderful. x
Bellyastic 10 years
Zaftig 10 years
This is so unbelievably amazing. My fantasy made fiction. Thank you so much for sharing.