Shaped [fiction] [wg hypno] [wg drug] [hormonal injection] [femdom feeder] [mommy vibes]
I was pushed into a square room, the heavy door shutting with a crash behind me. Somehow I felt alone despite the many faces that surrounded me on the other side of the glass. I fumbled with the collar around my neck as the nameless spectators raised their hands and a voice came over an intercom. “$5000…. $6000….$7000”
I tried my best to please my feeder, eating everything they shoved down my gullet, but I just couldn’t gain enough for them. I only wanted to be a good little pig— I tried my best; but they’d had enough of my lackluster ability to grow big enough, soft enough, fat enough to earn their praise.
The voice continued, spitting out numbers, increasing by the thousands. “Bidding is closed. $20,000. Number 6 sold for $20,000.” The shape reappeared, tugging me back through the same door I came from, just as abruptly as it had shoved me in, but this time, I was led around the corner, down a new hallway and into a new, smaller chamber.
“*Number 6*... Beautiful.” A deep, feminine voice spoke. *She* approached me. The tall, pale, darkly ethereal vision circled around me, observing me, measuring me with her eyes as her long black dress swished and kissed her ankles. The mysterious woman swiftly pivoted away, and paced across the room as the shadowy figure who brought me there stood guard. My eyes wandered about the clandestine surroundings, trying to avoid eye contact with the nameless vixen, or worse, becoming caught in a lewd gaze.
“You know, your previous feeder didn’t have a lot of nice things to say about you.” She mused as she perched on the arm of a nearby Chesterfield. She tapped her manicured nails against the leather as she studied me from the distance. “Y-yes, Miss.” I croaked sheepishly. *Pathetic* I thought, visibly cringing at the crack in my feeble voice. “She said you get full-up rather quickly, and you’ve only gained *25lbs in the last 6 months…*” She paused with a chuckle, “not enough, little piglet.” My throat tightened as I squeezed my knees together, trying to shrink myself down in preparation for a brutal, well deserved scolding.
My little cherub dipped his head, hiding in his shame. A coy creature; reduced, vulnerable, afraid. His insecurity was palpable, a result of a senseless feeder’s combination of over-ambition and incompetence. Tsh. Worthless, moronic feeders are a dime a dozen, and when they dump their little projects, I gladly take them under my wing, spoiling and fattening them like never before. I turned toward the sweet one once again, ready to claim him as my own.
“But I can see you have the perfect genetics—…” she sauntered toward me once again, the sway of her hips producing a hot flush across my face as she came nearer and nearer. “…to grow a plump, prized body” a chaste smile curled her burgundy lips. Somehow she seemed less threatening. Perhaps it was her dimples, or the divine grace in which she carried herself.
She lifted her hand with gentle poise, raising my chin with her delicate fingertip, a grin and a wink. When our eyes locked, she began caressing the soft, rounded curve of my belly. “So beautiful, my darling,” she praised. Warmth…. I lowered my head again as my body relaxed, melting and leaning into her touch as her tenderness overcame me. I wanted to stay this way, within her aura, forever. I’d never felt such warm praises, desire, and affection from a feeder. The heavenly feeling was broken when she turned over her hand and brushed a quick gesture toward the cold faceless figure, which departed from us. The clicking of the door sounded behind me. We were alone now. Her emerald eyes flashed back up at me with a lust-tainted grin. “Are you ready to be fattened and treated the way you deserve, my angel?”
I’d prepared everything for my new little pet’s arrival. Through my garnered experience of raising piglets, I’ve learned that comfort is a top priority for growth. This can be achieved through the provision of a king-sized bed, soft and flexible loungewear, and entertainment such as music, video games, film, etcetera. I took care to include some typical feedee favorites; Willy Wonka seems to inspire even the most apprehensive of piglets. My pig is allowed 1 meal in bed per day besides his breakfast, otherwise he is to join me at the dining table, to promote more bonding and trust with his handler. In order to accurately track his progress, he is to be weighed and measured weekly. I will record his data in my journal and make adjustments to his diet and regimen accordingly. His previous feeder was incapable of packing the pounds onto this beautiful body, but I know I will crack him, and have him fattened to his full potential. I know his efforts are sincere and that I – and the judges – will find his enhanced figure well above satisfactory.
“Darling,… darling,… wake up, sweetie.” A familiar coo curled around my eardrums. “Mmmhhh” I mumbled. I rolled lazily onto my back with a huff, pulling a pillow over my face in protest. “Sleepy” I muttered through the plush cotton. “Oh don’t be difficult, little sunshine” The voice tutted as a hand slinked between the sheets and my torso. I quivered to the warm caress punctuated by a soft, featherlight pat. “I have your breakfast, angel.”
*Breakfast….* I peeked out from behind the pillow when the aroma wafted to my nose. *Sniff sniff* my nose twitched, inhaling the unmistakable scent of bacon… and what else? I rubbed my eyes as the sleepy brain fog began to lift. An affectionate chuckle rumbled through Her chest as my curiosity piqued. I looked up at my master with doe eyes, knowing it would earn me more doting. “What is it?” I yawned with a stretch. She smiled down on me. “Good morning, sleepyhead.” She turned and lifted the breakfast tray from my dresser. “Your favorite.” She hummed as she placed the smorgasbord onto my lap. “Waffles! Ughh god, yes. That *is* my favorite breakfast.” I licked my lips and smiled, looking up to her for more approval.
He was a cute one, but I could tell that with 2 weeks with me under belt, he was already learning to use his charms and submissive behavior to gain my praise, affection, and pampering. A spoiled chubby pup, but sweet and harmless, and eager to please. This sort of temperament is most favorable in growing prized hogs. I tousled his hair and laid a soft peck on his crown. My lips lingered there for a moment as I inhaled his scent. “It seems like you’re settling in well, darling.” He sighed sweetly after another stretch, “mmhmm.”
“I hope you’re hungry, puppy.” I slathered a pad of golden butter across the fluffy grid. His mouth watered as he watched the cold fat melt into the crisp square holes. Next was the maple syrup— real, *pure* maple syrup. My little cherub deserves the best. “Always hungry.” He fidgeted impatiently. “That’s my good boy. Eat up; you have your special shots and hypnotherapy today” I reminded him as I patted his chest, to which he instantly blushed. I’ve noticed his *positive reaction* to being called such pet names. With that, he poked out his belly, temporarily inflated with air by pushing it out as far as he could muster into his lap. His mischievous attempts of ‘innocently’ drawing attention to his growing paunch were both impish and endearing. My little manipulator. I gave it an affirming pat, kissed his head once more, and let him eat his meal. He had a big day ahead of him.
My belly rumbled at the sight. I couldn’t wait to pack down every last bite of the delicious breakfast that she brought me. I was so starving this morning even though I had a pretty hefty dinner last night. Steak, mashed potatoes with lots of gravy, some boring green beans (‘cause she says I need to have vitamins,) cake, ice cream, and some candy when I watched movies in bed. I have to hide the wrappers because she doesn’t know that I sneaked them in. She says she has to track my calories and everything that goes into my mouth so she can “monitor my progress.” I thought the whole point was to make me big and fat. What does it matter if I have a few dozen Snickers before bed? Besides, she seems happy with the inches I’ve put on my waistline. Even if she catches me, I know she’s a sucker for my pout and puppy dog eyes. I know what to do to please her and get away with things. But… I have to admit… I feel a little… dumbed down? Like ever since she took me home, all I’ve done is eat, sleep, play video games, and be a lazy piggy gooner…
✨Chapter 3✨Doctor’s Orders
“become aware of your breathing...
notice that it becomes regular...
I want you to concentrate on my voice and only on my voice…
and if other sounds or thoughts intrude in your mind, just let them pass…
just allow my voice to soothe...
I want you to take your mind down...
down, and down, further into your toes...
and just let your muscles relax...
let them go limp and slack…
“How was your therapy, honey?” Miss appeared through the doorframe. “Mmhh…” I fidgeted. “It was alright.” The hypnotist smiled to Her knowingly. “Come now, my darling. We need to go to your next appointment.” I followed Her closely, hoping she wouldn’t ask me any more questions. My hypnotherapist is nice and all, but it’s a little boring. She’s supposed to make me hungrier and more food oriented— but honestly I don’t really remember anything she says because I always fall asleep. It’s not my fault! Her voice is very soothing. She just goes *’relax…relax…’* Then she snaps her fingers all of a sudden, but I don’t feel any different. I just wake up from the session wanting to find out what’s for lunch…..So I don’t think it’s working because I can’t pay attention.
We stepped inside of a sterile room where a man in blue latex gloves and a lab coat was standing. I dipped my head, a bit nervous as Miss talked to the man- something about hormones, growing, appetite? I swung my legs restlessly, back and forth, as I waited on the exam table. Then the needle came out. And it was a *big one.* I wriggled as he approached, flicking the sharp spire. “You’re okay, honey” came a soft voice. I turned my head, looking at my master. “Are you scared, sweetie?” I nodded sheepishly. “Mmhmm.” She hummed as she opened her satchel. “I have just the perfect thing to pacify my little piglet.” I leaned in curiously, hoping to catch a peek before she could reveal the surprise to me. My eyes followed her hand as it slipped from the bag. “Donut!” I beamed, my wiggling intensifying.
“Onto your knees darling one.” I coaxed. My little puppy, willing to do anything for a sprinkled donut did as I said immediately without hesitation. He lowered himself onto the table, resting his knees and forearms on the surface, mouth parted, hungry and hoping to receive his reward. “Very good, my darling” I praised, stuffing the frosted, sugary ring into his cheeks. He groaned as he could feel the cool rush of the hormonal injection entering him. He did very well. I fed him lunch and led him to bed for a long and restful nap.
“I’m so full.” I whined, trying to earn a massage from Miss. “My tummy feels so big.” She chuckled and sat down beside me. “You *are* looking big, pumpkin.” I nestled in closer so her soft thighs would press against mine, and she began grazing my belly with her fingernails. I melted to her touch. “I want to be stuffed full of food like this all of the time, but I need to be bigger and fatter. I want more. Please feed me more, Miss.” I begged. “Soon, Sunshine. I think you’ve had enough for now. I don’t want my little beach ball to pop.” she chuckled. At that, I pouted and clinged onto her even more. “But I’m so hungry.”
The thrill of her lifting my shirt to release my bloated gut was only making me greedier. I wanted her to see what a fat, gluttonous hog I’d become for her under her care. She stroked my bulging belly with her long, delicate fingers. “It definitely looks quite full. Are you *sure* you’re hungry, darling? Are you not maybe mistaking it for *something else*?” I tucked my hands beneath me, making myself feel even more exposed and vulnerable to her as she prodded my belly. It had such little give after being stuffed so tight. “M-mmhmm. I’m really, really hungry, Miss. I want cake…. and ice cream.” I looked at her like a clingy, sulking child. “Cake *and* ice cream? You’re sounding very greedy, my sweet little devil. Do you think all of that will fit into this taut tummy? That’s a whole lot for one little piggy.” My breath hitched as she patted the drum tight orb with a smirk. I groaned and squeezed the Goddess's plush thigh as I felt my belly push against my strained pants. I could only imagine how much more food could fit inside of me. I knew I was full, but I desperately wanted to eat more. What was happening to me? It was like more was never enough. I needed to test and stretch my limits. A small hiccup escaped my lips before I blushed, shuddering and whispering *“Please…I’ll be good.”*
My little glutton was becoming quite the greedy, needy hog, and his arousal was glaringly apparent. There wasn’t going to be any other way to put a stop to this whining than topping him off and milking every last drop of gluttony out of him. Allow me to introduce you to my 'brat tamer.' You see, sometimes piglets can become such spoiled pests as their brains rot into feedee mush. They are simple creatures, and programmed to be fed, pampered, and plumped, but sometimes they can become a bit naughty with their demands. They don’t know any better, so I must teach them and discipline them. My little ‘6’ must be taught a lesson.
After a few more minutes of pathetic whining and begging, I’d had enough. It was time to use firmer action. I will admit, I do take some- dark delight in this method of punishment, and it has also proven to be an effective tool for some of the more resistant pigs. What is it, you ask?
A double pump. Is it obvious enough, or should I describe it to you?
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