Pop the Pig

Chapter 1

My feedress keeps fattening me up, then she teases and embarrasses me in front of her friends. She pokes my fat, calls me names, and scolds me because my clothes are too tight; but won't let me buy bigger ones. "You'd just outgrow those too! Stop getting so fat!"

She laughs at me when I have to lay down to fasten my jeans. "Suck in that gut, fatty!" Then she stuffs a donut into my mouth, while I struggle to zip them. She also packs me an extra-huge lunch, and makes a huge dinner every night.

A week later I come home with the zipper broken, and two buttons popped off of my shirt. She grabs her phone, snaps a picture to show her friends what a fatty I am, then drags me straight to the bedroom.

A few weeks more, and I'm down to one last pair of khakis. These used to be baggy; now they're skin-tight, and they're the only pants besides sweats that I can squeeze into. I look like a sausage, but she still won't let me go shopping.

One Saturday morning, they finally rip. After she's finished jumping my bones, she tells me I can put my sweats on, and she'll take me to the mall. But when we get there, we don't go to a clothing store. Instead, she makes me wait at the food court, while she takes my pants to the tailor shop to be stitched back up.

It's taking forever, and I'm completely stuffed. We were supposed to go out to Game Night that evening, and I complain that I don't need those pants fixed, I need bigger ones. She shushes me by shoving another slice of pizza in my mouth, then pulls something out of a shopping bag. Spanx?! Seriously? Ugh!

When we get home, it takes half an hour to squeeze into the Spanx, and stuff myself back into the khakis. Oh, God, they're even tighter than before! It takes four tries to get the button done. Then I have to lay absolutely still, holding my breath, while she uses pliers to force the zipper up. "You better pray I don't break a nail, ***!" She also bought a belt, which just barely goes around me, and cinches me in. "There!"

I can barely move. She has to help me to my feet. There's a huge roll of roll of fat bulging over the top, straining my shirt buttons. "Hurry up!" she scolds. There's no way I can sit down in the car, so I have to lay sideways across the back seat.

When we arrive late, she tells everyone it's because I couldn't find anything to wear. "Guess I'm gonna have to put him on a diet." They all laugh. A few moments later she disappears, and returns with a huge plate of wings and fries and a beer. "You earned it, I guess".

I shouldn't have finished the second plate. Suddenly there's an elastic snap, Snap, SNAP! The Spanx can't hold me in! They give way and my fat literally explodes out of my clothes. Shirt buttons go flying off. My pants split wide open, front and back, with black spandex and white flab bulging through the ripped seams. Only the belt keeps them from falling down.

This is utterly humiliating. Everyone is laughing themselves sick, and I see money change hands. It turns out this was a live-action game of "Pop The Pig", and my feedress won.

After everyone's had their laugh, she drags me into the guest room and makes it up to me. And she brought cake.