Louie is handcuffed, bloated arms outstretched and attached to a metal rod. Bent over. His belly hangs nearly to the floor, swollen full, swaying with the sheer effort of every laboured breath. Ropes dig into his thick lard around his hips, looping his love handles, thighs, and fupa, hoisting that part of him and holding it aloft, because I know he won't be able to remain standing on his own by the end of this.
His moobs are the size of his head and clamped in front of him.
Groans and whimpers pass the gag between his plump lips.
I'd gotten carried away again.
Sweat sticks his hair to his face. His gut is already stretched with today's meals, this is just some midnight fun.
Tears build in Louie's eyes because his belly hurts. His distended legs are tired. The deadweight of his arms. His piggy hole has been used all day. But he wants to please his Daddy.
I slap the side of his belly, sending ripples through the fat. Louie whimpers and staggers. I tell him he's a good pig. Walking to his rear, he whimpers and struggles, the handcuffs hold his puffed up wrists perfectly still. I enter him, gripping his back rolls. Each steady pump jiggles every part of him. I get a hold of the rope deeply denting his fat, and fuck him until he's moaning like the hog he is, legs shuddering, trying to collapse. But Louie wants to please his Daddy.
He is allowed to cum into his folds, and I cum into him.
"Good boy, Piggy. Good boy."
I leave the room to make up a baking bowl of ice cream. When I return, Louie, red-faced and panting, collapses into the hoist fully. The clamps tug on his boobs. He shakes his head, his belly is too full, he can't eat anymore. I tell him he's a good boy and stroke his face. I know that he can, he's eaten more than this in one day. He leans his chubby cheek into my hand. I undo his gag, he opens his mouth wider. Pleasure rolls back his eyes, makes them flutter. I squeeze his taut boobs, brush his puffy nipples.
When he's licked the bowl clean, I go back to his pink hole, grabbing the stretch mark-covered underside of his belly. He moans and pleads, still licking the stickiness from his lips as I fill him up again.
"Oink for me, Piggy. Oink. You're such a good pig."
He grunts and oinks, legs shaking, lard trembling.
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