Day 93 - another chapter in the series

Day 93

by Lardfill, October 23, 2022

-Another chapter in the Day One series

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I don't know how much time had passed since I had last seen Cook, but I knew I wasn't the same person anymore.   The last thing I remember was being in the back of a van with two men, but it was all a blur.   I had just woken up feeling sore all over and so weak that I couldn't even lift my head off the pillow.   The room I was in looked like hospital, but something was odd about it.   I could hear other patients in the room, but the curtain dividers were all drawn shut so I couldn't see anything but a sliver of the room across from me where an empty bed and monitoring equipment was sitting.  

Did Cook find me?  Was I safe?

The walls of the room looked odd for a hospital - cinder block painted black.  The room smelled sterile, but there was also the smell of a men's locker room in the air... and also a hint of a barn smell.   The more I focused on the room, the more I began to realize that my entire body felt different all over.   I couldn't move my head, but then I realized it was locked in place with padded straps.  My nose felt like it was obstructing my view in a way I hadn't noticed before.   My breathing sounded different and my jaw felt numb.   Even my ears felt strange, like there was something attached to them.  

"It's awake," a man dressed in a rubber apron said as he stopped by the foot of the bed. 

I couldn't see what he looked like with a plastic visor obstructing his face, but I could see that he was a strong man who didn't seem to be wearing any clothes under the black rubber apron.  He walked away as another two men wearing doctor's robes entered.   One man was covered in tattoos, including his face, while the other looked better suited for heavy construction work than being a doctor.

"The pig's healing nicely along the modification lines.   No infections, minimal scarring," the tattooed doctor explained, tracing a gloved finger along spots midway down my arms and legs.    

"The facial mods are healing very nicely.   I can't even tell where the nose was reattached - that new stem cell tank has really made a difference in this looking authentic," the brute of a doctor said, patting my cheek.  

"The nose and ears are incredible.   No complications, easy to transplant since it's all his own lab-grown flesh being attached.   The whole process is so streamlined now that it makes some of the earlier pigs look like they were mutilated," the tattooed doctor said calmly as he lifted my underbelly up to inspect my cock.   "We'll need to start the pumping process on his scrotum to really complete the look."

"This one has to be the biggest one we've done so far," the bulky doctor said, grabbing a handful of belly flesh and shaking it. 

"Yeah, they used to try to do all this before the pig got over three hundred pounds - the risk of healing complications goes up as they get fatter, but now with the new science, it makes it less of a risk to do it when they're already such a porker," the tattooed man said, grabbing the sides of my belly and giving it a shake.  "With all the changes inside and out, you're officially not a human anymore.  You're a fucking pig forever - no going back."

"Look at that, looks like he's feeling well enough..." the bulky doctor said, flicking his thick finger against the swelling head of my delicate tiny cock as it poked up from the fat.

"I'm clearing him to start the second phase on the feeding room floor," the tattooed doctor said, marking on a form.   

"I second that.  Prepare yourself pig, life's going to be very different for you now," the brute doctor said as they walked away from the bed and left the room.   

I was so hungry.   I hadn't listened to a word the men had said.   All I wanted was for them to bring me a pile of food so I could make my stomach stop growling and twisting in hunger.  I still couldn't move and it was beginning to worry me.  I couldn't move my fingers or toes, I couldn't feel them at all.   The hunger flooded my mind so much that it outweighed the other concerns that my brain was trying to alert me of, but deep down I knew I was in trouble.

Before I knew what was happening, there were six big men bulging with muscles dressed in rubber aprons and face shields who marched in and unhooked me from the medical monitors and IV drips that were next to the hospital bed.   The men unlocked the wheels on the gurney and began rolling me out of the room.   As I passed by the curtain partitions in the room, I could see the other patients out of the corners of my vision and the sight caused me to squeal out. 

The piggish squeal was not my voice.   It came from my throat but it was the sound of a pig.   I cried out again and another wild squeal came from my throat.  The other patients were mostly all men, it appeared, and they were all in various states of major trauma from radical surgery.   Everyone was asleep, probably in induced comas, while they were gradually being altered to look like pigs with actual formed flesh that looked like a cross between human and swine.   Some had pig-like facial features already, some were still bandaged and healing, but the faces weren't what shocked me - it was the rest of their bodies.

Every patient was in the process of having their limbs 'shortened'.   The doctors were removing the lower arms and legs and attaching oversized pig feet that looked real and almost seamlessly attached just under the elbows and knees.   Some people still looked human, while others were so transformed that it was hard to tell if they were ever human.   I began to panic.   I wanted to go home to Cook and be safely kept in his care, not turned into some inhuman beast in some factory farm.   

There had to be nearly twenty people in the room being transformed into pig monstrosities with altered faces and shortened, modified limbs that would force them to walk on all fours like animals.   I was deep in something that was much bigger than me or Cook.  My stomach felt like it was dropping as I had a moment of solid mental clarity for the first time in ages.   I thought deeply about the situation I was in and tried my hardest to figure out what was to come.  I was one of these pigs now.  I couldn't see myself, but I knew that I was no longer a person - I was somewhere between human and hog, and it was quickly becoming clear that I was more like livestock than any kind of pet.

The men who took me knew Cook as though he had worked with them in the past.   Maybe he worked here - as a cook?  He helped them with all this and then left, found me, started training me to be a pig... and then took me to Vegas and offered me up like a gift to them.  Maybe he was just one of many scouts, all finding weak-willed gluttons to make disappear into this factory of pigs.   I was filled with dread as the realization that I had already been transformed sunk in.   They had turned me into a pig... but for what?  What were they going to do to me? 

The men pushed my bed down a long corridor and then into a large freight elevator that brought me down deeper into whatever dungeon awaited me.   Why would they need all this?  Why would they need to transform people into pigs?   What were they going to do to all of us?

The elevator doors opened and the smell of a greasy and crowded barn full of livestock hit so hard that a couple of the men coughed, but even more of them inhaled deeply and sighed like they loved it.   I surprisingly found it disgustingly intoxicating.   They wheeled me through a pair of swinging doors and suddenly it was all visible to me.   A large room sat ahead of me, with rows of metal troughs running along the floor and short metal frame dividers creating feeding booths for what appeared to be a hundred pigs.    

The pigs were once humans, but looking at how they were behaving, all their humanity was now lost.   Rows of former people were face-deep in a sloppy mess of grease covered food that was slowly flowing down the troughs.  They would take huge lustful bites of the fatty mess of food as it sluggishly slid by, all of the overfed pigs sharing the same thick mass of food without a care.   I could see bellies touching the floor under many of them, but quite a few were in the beginning stages of becoming fat.   I was thrilled to see such wild gluttony and weight gain, but I knew that this was the end of the line for me - I would be locked in a feeding pen and kept there until I looked like some of the bigger hogs in the room who were now too obese to fit in the pens.   I was in paradise and also in hell.

The sound of erupting gas from the pigs was almost steady as one hundred overfed digestive systems expelled pockets of stench that filled the air.  The sound of the pigs openly pissing and shitting also echoed through the room, and there were several lanky men in hazmat suits constantly wandering around the cement floor room, gently hosing down pigs that had recently messed themselves, shoveling up and washing away the stinking masses into the floor drains, just like on any normal factory farm.    

"Look at his little pig dick," one of the men in a rubber apron said as he looked at me eyeing up the room.

I was erect.  I didn't realize, but I was throbbing and drooling precum from looking at the room ahead of me.   I would be locked into one of the pens and forced to eat from the communal troughs, freely messing myself, without anything to do but gorge myself fatter.   I was disgusted at myself for being so turned on by the industrial farm setting that I was being led into.   I could see from the others in the room that the people who captured me were very effective at creating out-of-control monster hogs and I was turned on by the thought of becoming one of them.

There was a pig in the far corner of the room that was truly massive, the fattest thing I had ever seen in my life.   The pig's legs no longer touched the ground and appeared to be sinking into the blob of growing lard so much that they stuck out to the sides like useless little nubs.  The mass of hog lard was too big for the stalls that they had created, so the pig was spread out at the bottom end of the trough like it was the head of the family at a dinner table.   Each row of troughs in the room had a gigantic oversized pig person at the end of the line, no doubt they were the ones who had been captive in this treatment longer than the other pigs.  These massive hogs sat at the end of each trough and ate the remainder of the constant flow of food, after the other pigs had gobbled up what they could as it slid by.  

 Each communal trough had several points above it where a smooth creamy goop of lard dripped down from pipes steadily onto all the food as it slid by underneath. The food itself appeared to be a mess of different fast food and processed junk all dumped in together without much rhyme or reason.   It should have looked revolting, but my mouth was drooling out the corners as I looked at the sludgy mess of mangled food.  The remains that slid to the massive hogs at the bottom end of each trough was mostly a congealing soup of lard which they sucked down without a second thought.   These oversized pigs were ravenous - gulping down the thick lard slop like they were absolutely starving.   I couldn't take my eyes off of them.   

The sloppy lard-soaked piles of food looked like a fresh garbage dump and the room smelled terrible, but I couldn't help but squeal out in excitement as they wheeled me to an empty pen between two pigs that were bigger than me and directly across from another pig that was bulky with muscles and just starting to get a layer of fat on top.   The pigs to either side of me had bellies and moobs hanging down onto the floor and both were too busy eating to even look over at me.   The sound of wild chewing and swallowing was louder than I expected as they began to prepare to load me into the pen.

 I could tell that I had a snout like everyone else, I could see it protruding out into my vision.   Judging by how the others looked close-up, I was actually quite interested to see how I looked.   If I appeared to look as much like a pig as they did, then I wouldn't be all that upset - these pig men were oddly attractive once I got over the shock of seeing the results of such dramatic cosmetic surgery.  If I looked as much like a pig as the others, I would be happy to spend the rest of my life like this, it only seemed natural since I shared the same relentless hunger that pigs have.   

The men unstrapped me and lifted me up off the bed to set me down on the floor in the fenced-in pen that gave me enough room to lay on my side if I needed to, but the men didn't lay me down, they set me onto my new feet.    I could feel four feet touch the floor below me.  I wobbled for a second and then just stood in place for a moment before one of the men stuck his thick rough fingers in my asshole, shocking me enough to step forward.    I took a clumsy couple of steps as I realized that I had to move my four feet together instead of just two.    I took another couple of steps so I could get my face into the trough and the man yanked his fingers from my hole and then shut a simple little gate behind me.   

There was no escape now.   I couldn't stand up on my back legs... I had pig feet and no lower limbs or digits to work with.  The trough full of food soon erased my worries away.   I took a hungry bite from the sludge of greasy food in the through and snorted in excitement as I realized that my new extended pig snout allowed for giant bites of food that filled my mouth.   I swallowed and moaned in relief as I savored the taste of cheeseburger with bacon.    I snorted to myself at the thought of a pig eating bacon and took another greedy bite.

I looked up at the beefy pig man in front of me who had a mess of food caked around his mouth and nose.   He looked at me for a shared moment but there was no sign of thought behind his eyes before they rolled back and he took a deep bite out of the trough.  The 500lb pig in the stall next to me was busy rooting his snout in the food pile when his ass cheeks began slapping out a long deep pocket of gas that ended with a heavy pile of waste dropping to the floor behind him.   The other pigs around began to gorge on the trough like they all were suddenly needing to root deeper into the food and I soon realized why.   To avoid the fresh wave of stench, I plunged my snout deep into the food and worked my pig nose in until all I could smell was delicious food pushing into my nostrils.   I snorted, disgusted at how thrilled I was to bury my face into the lard-soaked food.

I could hear deep pig-like giggles and laughter from the other pigs around as they gleefully rummaged into the food as one of the cleaning guys wandered over and washed the pig's ass and removed the putrid pile that he had created.   Like clockwork, several other nearby pigs began to unload their bowels and bladders, snorting and getting some joy out of making the man clean up after them.     

I quickly found myself fitting into this new life - grunting happily along with the pigs as they found ways to communicate without being able to speak.   I attempted to make contact with the others nearby, but none of them responded with more than a quick oink - everybody was too addicted to stuffing their faces that they had lost interest in even trying to communicate any more than their low-brow acknowledgement of someone taking a shit.  They were all mindless pigs, and I had a brief thought that maybe they were being made brain-dead animals by something being put into the food.   I took another bite.

Hours passed before I had another clear thought in my head, but they were happening less and less since I had entered the pig feeding room.   With my belly packed with greasy calories, I had a thought about Cook and my heart skipped a beat.   I missed him.   I think I loved him.   He didn't want me here.   I thought that maybe he had given me to this facility as some sort of gift but I could tell that he wanted me for himself.   He wanted me, and they took me from him.  The brief moment of thought was interrupted when I noticed a delicious treat that was nearly within reach.

I plunged my face into a destroyed sheet cake that slowly slid into reach in the trough.  Several other pigs had plunged their faces into it and eaten half of it already, and I was determined to eat the rest of it before it slid out of reach.   The pig across from me was fighting for bites of the cake too and we aggressively finished all but some frosting that the next pigs slobbered up in seconds.   I felt my belly ache from fullness and grunted as I felt movement inside.   I grunted again and the pig across from me locked eyes with me as my mouth fell open and I let out a satisfied moan as my bowels pushed out a large pile.    The beefy pig across from me drooled with a dead-eyed grin and snorted happily as he and others began to root their snouts deep into the food to gorge more as my stink filled the air.  

The fat pig next to me strained to let out an even louder fart, like he wanted to signal that he was still the dominate pig in this section of the room.   Another wave of putrid noise echoed through the room as all the pigs tried to show dominance the only way that their limited pig brains would allow.  The cleaning crew men just made their rounds, cleaning up the mess and occasionally fucking the fattest ones just to show them where they really stood in the chain of things.  They were in control - we were just livestock for an unknown purpose.

The question briefly arose in my conscious again:  'Why are they making us into pigs?" but then I needed to eat the remainder of the pile of sausages that slid into reach.   I needed to eat it before the beefy pig across from me did...  I needed to grow more than him.  I needed to be the biggest.  The beefy pig looked like he was having the same thoughts as he lunged forward and nipped at the juicy sausage that I was currently chewing on.   He sucked the fatty tube of meat from my lips and gobbled it down with a determined stare that made me squeal and dive my face deep into the sausages, sucking one down whole like I was deep-throating a thick cock.   We fought for the sausages as they slid from our reach, only to start fighting over a mound of macaroni and cheese casserole that was slopped on top of a pile of deep fried chicken nuggets that tasted exactly like ones sold at my old fast food work place.    

The beefy pig across from me was quickly becoming my rival.  We stared at each other as we gorged ourselves.   He was competition but also company.  We couldn't talk, but the long passionate stares we gave each other as we ate told each other that we were in this together and that we were pushing each other to eat more.   I wanted to see him swell with blubber and fill his pen just as much as he wanted to see the same thing happen to me.   We were trapped, but we were enjoying it.   We were doomed but we encouraged it further.  

I took another bite, and so he took another bite.

...so I took another bite...