You don’t just want to get fat—you want to be kept. Stripped of human concerns, reduced to nothing but appetite and indulgence, living only to be fed, fattened, and used. My pet pig, swelling beyond recognition, growing softer, heavier, more helpless with every bite. No need to think, no need to move, no need to rut—because you're not being raised to breed. You're being raised to be a spectacle, an obscene display of excess, the fattest hog at the show. My prize-winning pig, kept purely for gluttony, with no purpose beyond becoming bigger, rounder, and more obscene. No work, no responsibilities—just a life of never-ending feasting, every inch of you proof of my dedication to fattening you into something truly magnificent.
