chapter 1

I can't see them as men, only pigs. Could you hold a man's nose while you funneled cream and spirits down his throat? Could you look a man in the eyes and tell him you've fattened him past his last step? Could you, in your good conscience, tell a man that he'd lost his choice long ago, that he /would/ finish his plate of brownies, that as long as his chest rises, you've not piled enough fat onto it? I could never do that to a man, but I've done it to my pig. It's harder, at first, to dehumanize them. When they start, so thin, so bright eyed, excited to fulfill their fetishistic dreams, there's a glimpse of personhood in them. But it can be overlooked, with practice. It gets easier as time goes on, when you've got them to associate stuffing with release so much that it just takes the food to get them off. Easier still when they've grown so much that they resemble a pile of fat more than a human. The blobs pleas , their squeals, their frantic looks, all meaningless when they're leaking precum out of the mound of fat that was once the very tool that drove them into your care. Piggy's enjoying himself, you can say. After a while of this, it gets easiest of all. You can see it in their eyes as they mechanically finish off whatever you put in front of them. The resignation. That they'll grow for you until the end. It's hard to say if they enjoy that state. They follow orders. They ask for more food, and cum when they've had their fill. But they're just pigs.
Still, though, were they once a man? Have I taken something away from them, or simply made their body reflect their deepest desires? I stopped asking myself that today, as my newest pig walked through the door. I looked into his eyes, and behind the nervous excitement, behind the animalistic greed, I saw the same dead eyes my last piggy had in his final year. The same look of a body who's soul has left the earth before it's life was ended. The truth is:

They were never a man.

Reposted from my Grommr profile for y'all's enjoyment. I always prefer writing short stories, and tend to write about darker fantasies.