The Farm

Your rubber pig nose always gets in your way at trough time, the slop finds a way to seep inside no matter how careful you are. The smell ferments inside but you are powerless to remove it or even to retch, thanks to your conditioning.

You will be led with all the other pigs to the "fuck pen" you crawl on elbows and knees bound by pink rubber sleeves ending in hooves, giving the appearance along with your snout, ears, and curly tail buttplug, that you are nothing more than livestock...which you are.

You wallow in the mud of the fuck pen for the amusement and arousal of pay per view perverts. There are always a few "stud pigs" in amongst the sissies, rubber bound men with their cocks left free and turgid so they can mount the sissy pigs and shove their mud lubed cocks past the gape ring at the base of the sissy's "pig tail" plug. Today you are one of the "lucky" ones to get pinned down and pounded by greasy, gross pig cock.

You grunt and moan and shudder and squeal and squirt and pray silently that its your programming making you love every minute. Afterwards you roll around in your own squirts and the stud seed leaking from your cunt and wonder vacantly if your Daddy ever watches the stream. You hope Mommy doesn't.

You see other pigs eventually led off never to return. Apparently some men get tired of watching and purchase a fuck pig of their own. You don't know whether you should hope for that to happen to you some day or not. You can't imagine a worse place than this, but then again, you don't have much of an imagination left. And of course, you can't feel hope anymore now if you wanted to...

You have no way of knowing how long you've been here or how long you will stay. Everyday is just part of forever now, barely changing, blurring blankly together, from now until...