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Part 7- The Hog Farmer

”Here pig pig pig”. Cole woke up to his feeding call. He no longer knew what day it was or how long he had been there. In reality, ever since his weigh in, it had only been a week., The first day he had remained bolted to the spigot, just swallowing the Hog Feed as it came through, accepting the cum deposits as they came. They didn’t clean him out, after the sixth feeding in as many hours he saw the Farmer enter the stall. It was the first time in weeks Cole had seen him. He just stripped, exposing his glorious tattoo’s that covered even his cock. He shoved a syringe with another deposit into Cole’s ass, and when he was done, stuffed his massive 8in cock into Cole as more Hog Feed came down the spigot. Cole had stopped registering though. For him, it was all about what came down the spigot and fed him. When the Farmer was done, he unbolted Cole from the wall, knowing the work was done.

“Here pig pig pig”. Cole now was receiving feedings twelve times a day; just as the stranger had said in his weigh in. Not that he really registered that anymore. Every time he heard the call, he moved to the spigot and sucked on it until it ran dry. Today was different though. He no longer got nauseous at his feedings, however halfway through he suddenly pulled off the tube, and vomited. “This isn’t right”, Cole thought, his brain his own again for a moment. The stall swam, and he fainted.

The stall swung open, and someone felt his forehead. “Get the Hog Farmer. It’s time”. Cole felt the back of the latex suit being unzipped once again, and he was dragged out of the stall where he was unceremoniously cleaned out. 

“Well well, took ya long enough”. He heard the strangers voice above him. “This must be the Hog Farmer”, he thought. “You finally got the fuck flu. I have a tally board in my office for you, you got bred fifty times and you had twenty deposits. Can’t believe it took this long, but we got you there.” Cole laid there wondering how he could have lost count of the number of times he had been fucked in such a short time span, but the fever took over and he stopped caring. He was swimming in the latex suit in sweat. 

“Now, my man told you that you were a hog now. And that’s the truth. After we’re all done with you, you’ll go back to your stall for awhile longer. But remember, I told you we have two types of livestock here: steers and pigs. You ain’t a pig anymore, you’re a hog. And our client said to let us do whatever to get you into shape. So you’re gonna lay there, and we’re going to let the steers at you.” The Hog Farmer said all of this with a wicked grin. 

As he said this, a stall next to his was opened. A man was led out by a similar collar to Cole’s own, attached to the ceiling. This was not anyone like Cole had ever seen. Clearly he was on some sort of steroid. All of his muscles bulged unnaturally. His cock was swollen though like it had been in a vacuum, and his scrotum had testicles the size of tennis balls. Above his cock was a scorpion, with the tail leading down and ending on his swollen penis. 

Cole was so feverish by this point he barely retained any of this. He simply turned over, and lay down in a prone position. “That’s right hog, just accept it. Cum boss”, the Hog Farmer said. The steer approached Cole with a blank look in his eye, and without a word or any lube mounted Cole’s ass. He thought if he had been in better health he may have felt something, or even cared, but the tearing he experienced as the man entered him dry was nothing. After only a few short minutes, Cole felt the mans load being pumped into him. He barely registered that the man had broken through his second ring, and was planting his toxic seed deep where it would never escape. The man withdrew, and Cole heard a chain moving away. As we sweat profusely with fever in the latex, he heard the Hog Farmer say: “Bring out the next one.”

———

Continuing soon.

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Part 7- Poz Hog

Cole laid in that stall for days. He was still collared to his chain, but they didn’t bother closing the door. “Steers” of all shapes and sizes would be led in at random points, mount him, dump their loads, and then be led out. They all had the same trait though: a scorpion above their cock, with the tail ending at the head of their penis. Cole was so sick and feverish with fuck flu he barely registered it. They gave him nothing but water for two days, however on the third they resumed the forced feedings. He had no appetite but didn’t get sick from the Hog Feed. 

On the fourth day, he woke up to another steer withdrawing his cock from him and being led back to a stall. By this point his hole was ruined. It barely closed anymore, and was in a constant gape, making Cole long for something to fill it. This time, the Farm Hand appeared and gave him a deposit from a syringe. “Today’s a special day. You’re gonna get your mark,” the man sneered. Cole had no idea what that meant and didn’t care at this point. A couple hours later, he appeared again. “Get up,” the man snarled. He dragged Cole by his collar back to the sterile room with fluorescent lighting. This time, there was a bench in the middle of the floor. “Fuck”, thought Cole. Again, his time on the ranch had taught him that rack was built for one thing only: breeding. The Hog Farmer was in a corner, naked. He didn’t have tattoos like the regular Farmer, just a skull and cross bones above his cock, which was pierced with a massive spiked PA.

The Farm Hand led Cole to the bench, and strapped him in. Ankles, knees, wrists, neck. If it could be tied down, it was. He was merciful at least, and spread a large quantity of grease on Cole’s ass, he even shoved a large glob inside of him. The Hog Farmer approached without a word or expression, he moved behind Cole and thrust his giant pierced death stick deep in Cole. The Hog screamed and lost consciousness. The fuck flu combined with the sudden violation was too much.

”Wake up hog”. Someone through water on Cole’s face. As he came to, he realized he was back in his stall. Something was different though. He looked down, and realized he was in a different latex suit. This was red and black. HIs hole was on fire. “Don’t worry,” the Farm Hand said. “The client likes your progress. You only have to put up with us for a few more weeks. Then the real fun starts. But in the meantime, enjoy your new status, and your new ink”. Cole heard the stall slam shut. He realized it wasn’t just his hole that burned, it was both his ass cheeks and above his hole. He had no mirror, and the latex covered it, but he now had a biohazard tattoo above his ass, with “Poz” and “Hog” tattooed on either ass cheek. The pain was nothing compared to his fever and fuck flu though. Just as he began to drift off to sleep, his brain shut down as it heard those magic words: “Here pig pig pig”…

——-

Working away. Let me know any feedback.

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1 hour ago, NECub said:

Part 7- Poz Hog

Cole laid in that stall for days. He was still collared to his chain, but they didn’t bother closing the door. “Steers” of all shapes and sizes would be led in at random points, mount him, dump their loads, and then be led out. They all had the same trait though: a scorpion above their cock, with the tail ending at the head of their penis. Cole was so sick and feverish with fuck flu he barely registered it. They gave him nothing but water for two days, however on the third they resumed the forced feedings. He had no appetite but didn’t get sick from the Hog Feed. 

On the fourth day, he woke up to another steer withdrawing his cock from him and being led back to a stall. By this point his hole was ruined. It barely closed anymore, and was in a constant gape, making Cole long for something to fill it. This time, the Farm Hand appeared and gave him a deposit from a syringe. “Today’s a special day. You’re gonna get your mark,” the man sneered. Cole had no idea what that meant and didn’t care at this point. A couple hours later, he appeared again. “Get up,” the man snarled. He dragged Cole by his collar back to the sterile room with fluorescent lighting. This time, there was a bench in the middle of the floor. “Fuck”, thought Cole. Again, his time on the ranch had taught him that rack was built for one thing only: breeding. The Hog Farmer was in a corner, naked. He didn’t have tattoos like the regular Farmer, just a skull and cross bones above his cock, which was pierced with a massive spiked PA.

The Farm Hand led Cole to the bench, and strapped him in. Ankles, knees, wrists, neck. If it could be tied down, it was. He was merciful at least, and spread a large quantity of grease on Cole’s ass, he even shoved a large glob inside of him. The Hog Farmer approached without a word or expression, he moved behind Cole and thrust his giant pierced death stick deep in Cole. The Hog screamed and lost consciousness. The fuck flu combined with the sudden violation was too much.

”Wake up hog”. Someone through water on Cole’s face. As he came to, he realized he was back in his stall. Something was different though. He looked down, and realized he was in a different latex suit. This was red and black. HIs hole was on fire. “Don’t worry,” the Farm Hand said. “The client likes your progress. You only have to put up with us for a few more weeks. Then the real fun starts. But in the meantime, enjoy your new status, and your new ink”. Cole heard the stall slam shut. He realized it wasn’t just his hole that burned, it was both his ass cheeks and above his hole. He had no mirror, and the latex covered it, but he now had a biohazard tattoo above his ass, with “Poz” and “Hog” tattooed on either ass cheek. The pain was nothing compared to his fever and fuck flu though. Just as he began to drift off to sleep, his brain shut down as it heard those magic words: “Here pig pig pig”…

——-

Working away. Let me know any feedback.

Love it so far keep it cumming 

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You are doing great, are you sure this is only your 2nd attempt at writing?  I just read all the chapters and you have already pulled a load out of me, so please just keep on doing what you are doing-- it is twisted and dark, and I am eager to see where this all leads to..

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Part 8- Hog 

“Here pig pig pig”. He heard those words, and through the fuck flu, the sweating in the latex suit, and his exhaustion, Cole still crawled toward the spigot. This time, he was bolted in again. He was too tired to even think about resisting. There was something new about this feed. It flowed like molasses but had no taste. Cole didn’t care, he just nursed the spigot until it ran dry. It took nearly an hour. After, he crawled into his corner when he was released and fell asleep, hoping he could stay that way until his fever was gone.

Cole awoke to the meal bell, and his call. “Here pig pig pig”. He rotated over, and went to the spigot. As he began feeding, something strange happened. Until this point he had known his cock was hanging below his belly, even though he could not see it. Suddenly something shifted, and it felt like his cock had sunk into his stomach. “Oh fuck. They got me so fat it sunk into the folds”, Cole realized. But then he didn’t care again. Cole hadn’t seen himself in a mirror since his weigh in. But he knew what he must look like, and didn’t care. Little did he know the next time he would be weighed and see his reflection he wouldn’t recognize himself. That was the last part of the Hog Farmer’s process. In another six weeks, he’d be ready to give his livestock to the client. 

——-

Next part soon, feedback is appreciated.

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Part 9-  Gone

”Where am I”, Cole wondered. He had opened his eyes, and knew he was in his own world for now. His fever was gone, but he was still stuffed into the latex suit. “Here pig pig pig”, he heard. Like clockwork he moved to the spigot, and started sucking on it.. His animal instincts had taken over. Now he no longer cared where he was or what was happening. 

“Aight hog, time to swap out some stuff”. He didn’t know what was happening. He just kept sucking at the spigot. He vaguely registered his guiche piercing being swapped out for a heavier one. Same for his tits and those piercings. He was left alone, but suddenly something happened: he was done with the fever, but his weight got to be too much: he felt his belly and thighs rip through the latex. 

“Well it took a month, but we got there” the Farm Hand snickered. A month. Cole let his rational brain take over for a moment. In one month, he had gone from average guy to poz pig guy that could barely seen his own cock. And it was just beginning. 

“Here pig pig pig….” Cole went to the spigot, waiting his next fate.

——

Still writing. Next file cumming soon. 

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Part 10- The Second Weigh In

”Here pig pig pig”. Cole heard his feeding call and dragged himself over to the spigot. His fuck flu had finally passed. Now he just felt hungry and tired. As he finished nursing the spigot, the stall door slid open. The Farm Hand grabbed his chain, saying nothing. He dragged Cole to the sterile room again, and shoved him onto the scale. This time, Cole realized what was happening. 

The Hog Farmer was not in the room this time. The Farm Hand just weighed him, and measured his height. Something had happened though. Cole thought he had gotten over the fuck flu just a couple of days ago. In reality, it had been another two weeks. Since his time had begun in the original paddock, Cole now just gave in. “320”, he hear the Farm Hand say. Cole could feel his tits hanging loose. All he thought about though was his next feeding. 

 

——

Working on the next part. 

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I don't understand why this story is so fucking hot, but it is. Damn it's twisted. Like one of the previous comments, I also can't believe it's only your second time. I've shot 2 loads the past 2 days reading this. Keep it cumming!

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Part 11- Livestock Now

”Here pig pig pig.” Cole heard the call, but was already at the spigot, He slept there now, just waiting for his feedings. They lasted longer now. Usually he sucked on the Hog Feed for at least an hour. His fuck flu was gone, and he had torn through the latex because he had gained so much weight. His fat had even swallowed his cock. 

As his feeding stopped, the Farm Hand came in to give him a deposit. Cole didn’t think about it anymore, he just arched his ass. His hole was so gaped now he didn’t feel it, he knew it was done when the man left. “Just a couple more weeks. Then you’re his problem”, the Farm Hand said. Cole had stopped caring about time, He had stopped tracking the days. He didn’t know it, but it had been nearly six weeks since he had been brought to the farm. Now all he wanted was to get bred and fed. Every time he heard the call, was the only part of him that registered anything. 

“Here pig pig pig”…

——-

Getting ideas now for the next part.

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