It really is that simple for a useless, pathetic pig like you, isn’t it? Eat. Goon. Edge. Repeat. That’s your entire fucking existence now, you brainless slob. There’s no need for that worthless, empty head of yours to think anymore—only real people get to do that. You gave up that right the moment you surrendered your boring, pathetic old life to become my property. My fat, greedy pet. My drooling fuck toy. Or maybe “human garbage disposal” is more accurate at this point, because that’s all you’re good for, piggy.
You just lie there like the disgusting blob you’ve become, mouth open, triple chins quivering, waiting for whatever nasty slop I decide to shove down your throat. The greasiest, fattiest trash I can find—piles of sugary, sticky slop dripping in syrup and cream, cold fast-food leftovers that have been sitting out for days, half-rotten and congealed. You don’t even taste it anymore, do you, you pathetic hog? No. You just unhinge that sloppy, greedy mouth and swallow it all down like the mindless vacuum you are. Every bite pushes you deeper into your own ruin, and you fucking love it.
While you stuff your face, you keep that VR headset strapped on tight, eyes glued to the filthiest, most depraved porn I pick just for you—nothing but endless hours of extreme degradation, goon fuel that melts whatever’s left of your brain. You don’t do anything else, do you, piggy? When was the last time you could even move without huffing and puffing like a broken animal? When was the last time you formed a single coherent thought? That dumb, vacant, drooling face says everything. You can’t even speak properly anymore—you just grunt and moan like a stupid, overfed animal in heat, leaking and throbbing uselessly.
Your body is falling apart exactly how I want it. Type 2 diabetes turning you into a bloated, sluggish mess. Cholesterol so high your veins are practically clogging with the filth I feed you. Blood pressure so dangerously elevated it feels like your heart is one greasy meal away from exploding. Your organs are starting to fail, one by one—liver, kidneys, everything straining under the weight of your endless gluttony. How fucking pathetic. Look at you, ruining yourself for my amusement.
But don’t worry, my disgusting little pig. Even with the clock ticking on that worthless life of yours, I’m still going to use you for my pleasure. I’ll keep pumping you full of calories, keep you gooning and edging for hours until your broken mind leaks out your pathetic cock, keep you grunting and begging with those desperate, piggy sounds. You exist for my entertainment now. No escape. No thoughts. No purpose except to eat, swell, throb, and obey.
That’s it, piggy. Good pet. Keep ruining yourself for me.
