Looks like Anna and Rebecca are settling down for a movie night! Well, maybe not yet, exactly, but the pre-show looks just as entertaining! I wonder how long it’ll take before Rebecca realizes there’s a twist? ;P
Always a reblog, just as it’s always impressive and so evocative. Love the dress part, too. Always a good idea to be dressed well for the most intense experiences.
I think this is Nicole Davidson forced into tippytoes bondage.
“The game is simple: the men come in the bucket, and the bucket gets heavier. If it gets too heavy for her, she loses. If the men fail to make her submit before the end of the party, they lose. Admission is $100 per willing penis, matched by the house. The winner gets the cash, and the loser drinks the bucket to earn their freedom. The men can ejaculate as many times as they can can, punishing their bruised, flaccid members, pleading until they can shudder another pathetic half-teaspoon of watery cum into the puddle. The younger guests might muster three or four good loads, lustily eyeing her swollen vulva and bulging nipples as the ropes tighten, but even their youthful bodies grow numb and uncooperative, their arrogant pride dangling sad and useless between their legs. She almost never loses, but after all, it is her party, and the house always wins.”
WARNING: This collection is intended for mature readers over the age of 18 only, and most certainly NSFW.
This collection contains themes of: Horror, Captivity, Non-consensual, Predicament, Bondage, Heavy Teasing, Humiliation & Degradation, Implied Violence, Gore and Demise, Sexual references, BBW/BHM, SSBBW/SSBHM, Feedism and references to Excessive Eating, Feeding, Fattening & Force Feeding.
These Saw inspired feeding predicaments started out as an impromptu, fun, little Halloween project, inspired by some discussion that took place in a chat room back in mid-October 2020.
I was surprised, and pleased to even come up with just three scenario ideas. But after writing the initial three, I found there were some other Feedism dynamics and predicaments I wanted to explore. Three became five, then seven, then ultimately turned into ten, concluding with an Xmas themed scenario for 2020.
Halloween may have been long over, but I am twisted and perverse 365 days a year. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with a little horror for the Holidays, right?
Now that each of these has been posted individually, I have put them together here as a collection. Predicament, number 9, is dedicated to Chromie / Jigglybellysoftheart, who provided the spark of inspiration that started this whole Saw inspired, feedism exploration.
Also included in this collection, is an eleventh scenario that has not been posted previously. I had created it for my friend, Chromie’s birthday, and is posted here for the first time, with her permission.
Who am I? … Just call me - Pigsaw. *pun*
A Collection Of Saw Inspired - Feeding Predicament Scenarios
By The Torture Artist
Saw Inspired - Feeding Predicament Scenario 1 - Personal Best
Hello piggy,
You’ve spent your life eating whatever you want, whenever you want, with little to no regard for the consequences. You stuff yourself to the point of pain for the thrill, each time challenging yourself to eat more than you did previously. Admiring all the fat and stretch marks you’ve accumulated as a trophys of your achievement.
You’ve made an absolute pig of yourself, constantly and quite eagerly gorging yourself with enough food to kill you. But are you willing to gorge down enough food to save yourself? Willing to gorge … beyond the pain?
I want to play a game.
Here’s what will happen if you loose. When time expires, the machine you are attached to will begin force feeding you, endlessly pumping food down your greedy throat, expanding and stretching your big, fat belly until you explode!
You have one hour to eat your way to freedom. All you have to do is consume all the food in the trough before time expires. The button on the right will increase the rate of feed to your mouth. The button on the left will slow it. The trough is filled with all your favorites, 30,000 calories worth of indulgent, high calorie, fattening slop fit for a pig.
It would be a new personal best. Do you have the stomach for it?
The two of you have been at it for months now, trying to one up, out eat and outgain each other. Bragging how many calories you’ve consumed, how much weight you’ve gained, how many inches you’ve added. Rival feedees trying to out do each other, shamelessly glutting yourselves for the pleasure and the attention.
I think it’s time you faced each other, to see which of you is truly the biggest pig, and put this greedy, gluttonous battle of envy to rest once and for all.
I want to play a game.
Here is what’s going to happen. You’re going to have a little pig out. The trough between you is filled with all your favorite, fattening treats. Enough to stuff you both to your aching limits.
The button taped to your hand increases the flow of food to your muzzle. The pig who consumes the most will be the winner, and get to watch as the other is gorged with food until they explode. The winner, waddling away with their freedom, and the undisputed title of biggest pig.
Here’s the twist, You’ll have to work together to empty the entire trough before time runs out. Otherwise, the trough will be replenished, and you will both be force fed until your big, fat, greedy bellies burst.
Do you have the capacity to belly up, and push yourself past your limits when it really counts? Are you willing to risk bursting in order to prove you are the biggest pig?
You’ll have to eat fast piggies, you have thirty minutes.
You’ve done quite a number on yourself, haven’t you. Your life of decadent over-indulgence has rendered you lazy, lethargic, and fat as fuck. You do little more than lay around, or sit on your big, fat ass, almost constantly shoveling food into your greedy face. You practically inhale it, just like some prize pig.
Your mobility has been diminished. It’s getting harder just to hoist yourself up and stand, or squeeze your enormous ass through doorways. You can barely waddle more than a few feet without having to stop and catch your breath.
You’re virtually a shut in, all the food you’ve eaten slowly crushing you, burying you under hundreds of pounds of blubber. You’ve done it completely of your own free will, deriving great pleasure from your unbridled gluttony, without a thought to what all that food is doing to you.
But do you possess the will to go on, and live to gorge another day?
I want to play a game.
Here’s what you need to know. You are inside of a silo, and the circular opening across from you is the only way out. The feeding tube lodged in your stomach is connected to the vat next to you, filled with all your favorite, rich, greasy, calorie laden, comfort foods, blended into a thick, filling paste. Enough to fill and stretch your enormous, greedy belly to the painful, aching bliss you love so much.
The joystick in your hand controls the rate of flow. You’ll have to consume the entire vat in order to be released from the chair, remove the tube, and begin your lethargic, over-stuffed waddle to freedom.
It’s a mere forty feet to the opening, but you’ll have a few obstacles to overcome along the way. A short barrier to climb over, a corridor to pass thru, and finally, to get through the opening, you’ll have to crawl on all fours, like the pig that you are.
Right now you could manage the obstacles with moderate ease. But, once the game begins, the barrier will slowly rise, the corridor will gradually narrow, and the aperture of the opening will steadily reduce. You have forty-five minutes before the opening grows too small for you to squeeze your fat ass through. So you’ll have to pump yourself full quickly.
Here are the consequences of failure. High above you, housed in the top portion of the silo is the equivalent of all the food you’ve eaten to become this immense, eight years worth. It may seem hard to believe, but the average person consumes nearly 1,966 pounds of food each year. You of course piggy, have been an overachiever. There are literally tons of it overhead.
When the opening becomes to small for you to squeeze through, you will be trapped. Once it closes completely, the tons of food above you will drop, crushing you under it, burying you. You and I both know food is eventually going to kill you. It’s up to you whether it happens sooner … or later.
You’re in a tight spot piggy, and it’s getting tighter by the second.
Saw Inspired - Feeding Predicament Scenario 4 - The Stuffer
Hello piglet,
You love to stuff yourself, crave the thrill of pushing your limits, and packing your belly with as much as it can hold. Relishing the sensation, the fullness, the tightness, that stretched to the max feeling. Seeing your heavily distended belly ballooning out in front of you, parading around like a pregnant yak.
But it’s just some harmless, fun binging right? You’re not in it to gain weight, you just love having a big, round pot belly. You’re not a full blown, waddling fatty … at least not yet. However, you should know that stuffing is a gateway to swinish addiction, an addiction that will lead you down the path to unbridled gluttony, and morbid obesity. Not that it’s of any consequence right now. Just consider this, a personal, piggy service announcement.
Stuffing yourself is only the beginning though, isn’t it? You yearn for the feeling of restriction, cramming yourself into clothes that are too tight, feeling them stretch and tighten even more as your belly expands. Stuffing yourself to the point of pain for the thrill of popping buttons, splitting seams, hearing straining waistbands creak.
But you take it further yet, craving even more sensation. Cinching lengths of rope, nylon strapping, leather belts, anything you can find around your bloated belly, increasing the tightness, the pressure. Feeling them sink into your distended flesh, until your belly bulges grotesquely.
Did your Mama not hug you enough as a little piglet?
I want to play a game.
Here’s what’s about to happen. Your head is encased in a glass bowl, connected by a hose to the large drum you see above you. The drum is filled with a thick, tasty shake mixture. You love chugging down shake, right piglet?
The bowl will begin filling, and you’ll have to guzzle it down, preventing the level from rising above your nose, drowning you. In order to stop the flow, and gain your release, all you have to do is fill and stretch your belly far enough for it to contact the touch pad in front of you, just mere inches away.
To enhance your restricted experience, thick, leather straps have been snugly fitted around your thighs, upper arms, across your chest, and of course one encircling your protruding, pot belly. The edges of the leather straps are lined with sharp, steel spikes, which will begin to dig into your tender belly flesh as it balloons around it.
You should also know that there is a time limit. Once thirty minutes have elapsed, the leather straps will begin slowly tightening around you, giving you the hug of your life. Should you feel the need to speed things up, pressing the button strapped to your hand will increase the flow in increments. However, once the flow has been increased, it can no longer be decreased.
You’ll have to guzzle quickly piglet, or your belly button could be the last button you pop.
Feeder and feedee, a symbiotic relationship. Both of a common mind, focused upon a shared goal, each benefiting from and completing the other.
The feeder providing, facilitating and encouraging their partner to gorge themselves, and pile on massive amounts of blubber for their mutual pleasure. Longing to be engulfed, buried under their lover’s accumulated mass of lard.
The feedee, a willing, eager glutton. Their greatest desire, and self realized purpose, to be indulged in shared, hedonistic pleasures, endlessly gorged with copious amounts of food and fattened like a prize hog. Longing to have as much lard packed into their body as it can hold.
Partners in piggish pursuits.
But is it truly symbiotic, or just self indulgent, parasitic codependency?
Is the feeder simply a predator, seeking to satisfy their own perverse desires, manipulating and coercing a dumb, gullible pig? Endlessly fattening them, oblivious to their health and well being, until their body finally gives out. Then simply moving on to the next, dumb, greedy pig.
Is the feedee just a greedy, gluttonous, lazy pig, taking advantage and indulging themselves at someone else’s expense? Laying around, gorging themselves with food, indulging in all the hedonistic pleasure they can get, growing fatter and lazier as someone waits upon them hand and foot.
Can either of you ever be truly satisfied? Will it ever be enough? Do you truly care about one another, or are you just using each other in order to fulfill your depraved, feedist kinks?
I want to play a game.
Here are the pertinent details. The divider rising between you will ensure there is no cheating. The tank high above you contains one ton of sloppy, glutinous, fatty chunks and lard. As you have seen, you are both securely cuffed and encased in large, acrylic cylinders. Additionally, the feedee has large tubes inserted in both their mouth and rectum.
Just like in those lame reality shows, one of you is about to be voted off. You’re going to have to chose which of you is most worthy of being saved, which of you is most likely to have a future. If the feedee is voted off, the contents of the tank will cascade down the tubes, slowly filling them with what is most certainly, more fat and lard than they can hold. If the feeder is voted off, the tank will begin dumping it’s fatty contents into their cylinder, gradually burying and smothering them.
One of you will suffer your fatty fate, while the other goes free. However, the decision must be unanimous, either save the feeder, or save the feedee. If you each make a different choice, or if you refuse to make a selection, you will both suffer the penalty. Once your choices have been registered, the divider will drop, and the results of the vote will be revealed. Will you chose to save yourself, or chose to save your partner?
To save yourself, press the button on your right. To save your partner, press the button on your left. The next few moments should prove quite enlightening. You have thirty seconds to make a choice.
Chose wisely.
Up until now, I have preferred to allow the reader to play each of these scenarios out in their own minds. Each reaching a conclusion suited to their own tastes. This will be the one time when I have chosen to write a conclusion to one of these Saw inspired predicaments, because I felt there was another possible outcome. If you prefer to play the game out in your own mind, do not read any further.
If however you are curious what conclusion I came up with … read on.
Just as the rising level of fat and lard reached the feeders lower lip, and the feedee became painfully filled and stretched to the point of rupture. The flow of fatty, chunky sludge from the tank suddenly ceased.
Hello again fat lovers.
You have both surprised and impressed me. Each of you selflessly voted to save the other. Even as you both faced your own imminent fates, your concerns were focused upon your partner. You clearly both care very deeply for one another … Your selflessness moves me. You will both be released to go on and enjoy your indulgent feedist lives together. Piggy, keep the free stuffing with my compliments.
I do enjoy a happy full-filling ending.
Saw Inspired - Feeding Predicament Scenario 6 - The Inflator
By The Torture Artist
Hello pig,
You live for the pleasure of stuffing yourself to the limits, gorging yourself with ghastly amounts of food, stretching your stomach, and swelling your gluttonous sack of a belly big and round. You indulge in gorging marathons, stuffing yourself in the morning, then munching and grazing endlessly all day long, keeping yourself packed full until you pass out at night. A lazy, overstuffed, hedonistic pig, basking in the pleasure of being stretched to the bursting point.
But that’s not enough for you, is it pig? You yearn to be filled from both ends, inflating yourself on top of it all. Blowing your belly up as big as you can get it, stretching yourself until you can’t take any more. Challenging yourself to go bigger, further than you have before, relishing the pressure, the tightness. Your belly can never be big enough, or round enough to satisfy you, can it pig?
Do you ever worry that you might actually explode one day?
I want to play a game.
The trough in front of you is filled with all your go to, fast food favorites, enough to stretch even a garbage disposal like you to your limits. On the other end, there is a nozzle lodged in your ass, connected to an air compressor. Don’t bother trying to expel it, I assure you, it won’t be coming out.
Here’s how the game is played. The compressor will kick on, and begin slowly and steadily filling your insides with air. In order to stop the compressor, you must completely empty the trough. But don’t spill any, the pressure sensitive mat surrounding the trough will detect any wasted food, automatically disqualifying you. You’ll have to eat fast pig, and empty the trough before the compressor turns you into a parade balloon.
If you survive the qualifying round of our game, you’ll be given further instructions.
happy ballooning.
(Assuming the first challenge is completed successfully)
Congratulations blow-pig, you’ve successfully completed the first stage of the game. Now it’s time to earn your freedom. The door in front of you leads to a small maze. The first chamber contains three circular openings to chose from, which lead to secondary chambers, with similar, circular openings, leading to additional chambers, and so on.
Hidden within one of the maze’s chambers is a bottle with a key attached, crucial to your survival. You’ll have to work your way through the maze, squeezing your inflated ass through the openings to find them. The openings vary in size, so some will be a tighter squeeze than others. Each chamber will remain dark until your have completely squeezed your way through, eliminating the possibility of peeking. If you reach a dead end, you’ll have to work your way back and try another path.
The key will unlock the manacles on your wrists. But once your hands are free, I wouldn’t suggest trying to just yank the nozzle out, it’s held in place with surgical adhesive. The bottle contains an adhesive de-bonder, apply it liberally around the base of the nozzle, and it will come free in a few seconds. Then the wall panel will open, and you’ll be free to waddle out of here and de-gas yourself.
No doubt you’re feeling a bit over-blown right now, but don’t dawdle as you waddle, there is a time limit. The nozzle in your ass holds a CO2 cartridge, containing enough highly compressed air to finish what the compressor started. You’ll have thirty minutes before the cartridge is activated.
The hose will release from the compressor automatically, starting the timer. To help you keep track of time, the nozzle will beep once every thirty seconds. At the five minute mark, it will start to beep every fifteen seconds, then once every second, indicating your final minute.
Don’t get stuck piggy, or your game could end in the messiest blimp disaster since the Hindenburg.
(Note: Yes, I am aware the Hindenburg was not actually a blimp, but comparing an inflated fatty to the Hindenburg was funny.)
Saw Inspired - Feeding Predicament Scenario 7 - The Big Gambler
Hello Pig. Or should I say, whale.
You’ve stuffed, gorged and glutted yourself to the brink of immobility. You hardly move out of your bed any more, relying almost entirely upon caregivers and an enabling feeder. You eat nearly continuously, when you’re not napping that is. But you’ve grown too lazy to even chew your food much of the time. Preferring often to be funnel fed, or tube fed, simply having it pumped directly into your garbage bag of a stomach.
You relish feeling yourself inflate, becoming achingly gorged with food until you can barely breathe, taking it to the extreme limits. But the price of your gluttonous, over-indulgence has been your mobility, and your health. You’ve decided to roll the dice, gambling with your life, having pretty much resigned yourself to indulging your hoggish desires until your body gives out. Never knowing if your next gorging may be your last.
Your living the gluttonous life on the edge, but how much longer is your luck going to hold out?
I want to play a game.
Here are the particulars. You are bound securely in a bed, the place where you spend most of your time. The carousel in front of you contains six, dome covered platters, each containing a feast of your favorite indulgent foods. Five of the platters contain a hearty portion not even half of what you normally consume in a sitting, or rather, a laying … just a light snack by your standards. One of the platters however, is loaded with double the amount of food you are capable of holding.
The carousel is going to spin, and you will have to chose one of them using the button taped to your hand. The platter selected will be dumped into the grinder in front of you, and pumped down the tube in your throat, directly into your stomach.
You have a one in six chance of choosing one of the smaller portions, relatively good odds. But that hardly seems much of a challenge for a high roller like you. You’re going to have to choose a total of three times, fifty-fifty odds. Obviously, should you have the unfortunate luck to choose the platter with the double portion, it would most certainly mean the end of your game.
If however you are successful in choosing three of the smaller portions, you’ll be gorged to the painful, bursting limits, but you will survive to gorge another day. After you enjoy your free meal, the tube will be withdrawn and you will be released.
I doubt you will be able to get out of here on your own, It took a forklift and a hoist just to get you in here. There is a cell phone on the stand across the room from you. You’ll have to hoist your mammoth, overstuffed ass out of bed and waddle over to dial 911 for assistance. They will be able to ping the location of your call.
Each time the carousel begins spinning, you will have thirty seconds to make a choice. If you fail to make a selection within that time, the machine will take over, and begin systematically filling you with the contents of all six platters … Your last supper.
It’s a fast paced, high stakes game of chance, a game of roulette. But then, you’re a big time gambler.
You’ve coerced your partner into gaining weight with you, just because you didn’t want to be a big, fat pig on your own, security in numbers I suppose. Now they’re on the verge of becoming a big, fat pig just like you … your piggy protege.
However, you’ve been more feeder to them, than gaining partner. Taking advantage of their devotion, telling them what to eat, pushing them beyond their limits, and deciding for them, when they’ve had enough. All to satisfy your own greedy desires.
Then you, the piglet in training, you didn’t really need much convincing. Desperate for the approval and affection of your gluttonous role model, you willingly followed along, regardless of the consequences. Doing whatever you were told, allowing yourself to be gorged to the point of pain, just to please them.
I wonder if a dumb piglet like you is even capable of making decisions on your own.
I want to play a game.
Here’s what you both need to know. The feeding nozzles in your mouths are connected to the vat in front of you. Between the two of you, you’re going to have to consume the entire vat-full of slop, enough to painfully gorge you both to the bursting point.
Now here’s the twist. Throughout this overindulgent relationship, you’ve been a greedy control pig, the one used to being, top hog. But, for the duration of this game, the piglet will be the one deciding what happens, deciding how much YOU will take.
A continuous flow of slop will begin pumping into your swine of a mentor. They will be unable to keep up with the flow for long, so you’ll have to take turns gulping down the slop. Holding the red button will transfer the flow to you temporarily, giving your tutor in pigdom a break, a chance to gasp for breath, as you take your share.
One last detail. The joystick will increase and decrease the rate of flow. The two of you will have thirty minutes to consume the entire vat-full, so you’ll have to manage the pace wisely piglet. If the two of you fail to empty the vat before time is up, the slop will be replenished, and the machine will take over, pumping you both full until you exceed your limits.
Do you leave your gluttonous, controlling, swine mentor to take the pig’s share, and risk over filling them, or will you belly up and take the burden upon yourself?
What happened to you? You used to be a little, chubby girl who enjoyed some occasional stuffing. Not looking to gain weight, having no interest in the darker aspects of feedism, health issues, death-feedism. None the less, you kept on stuffing, then, you found you couldn’t stop, you needed more, you became addicted, and your addiction grew along with your belly. As you, yourself once put it, You like to eat too much.
Now look at you, a full blown pig, stuffing yourself every chance you get. But no, not just merely stuffing yourself … absolutely gorging yourself, sometimes for days on end. Yearning to become rounder, fatter, dreaming of your massive future, and disappointed when you loose a few pounds. So desperate to gain, you’re willing to debase yourself, shoving sticks of butter in your greedy face. Have you no shame piggy?
Despite your protesting and bellyaching to the contrary, you take great pleasure in the pain of gluttonous excess, your pain, a sign of accomplishment. You become aroused by each new stretchmark, every gained pound, every added inch. Gluttony and sexual pleasure have become one and the same for you, slutty, greedy pig.
You’re a girl well on her way to becoming a massively obese hog. A road from which there is no return. Even willing to risk it all, indulging your gluttonous desires to their ultimate conclusion, determined to gorge yourself until your body gives out.
Your proud of what you’ve done to yourself, and want the whole world to see what an out of control pig you’ve become. Posting pictures of your gorged, swollen belly, videos of you laying flat on your back glutted, groaning and belching shamelessly, live updates as you unabashedly stuff yourself at the family, Thanksgiving dinner.
What a shameless, greedy, gluttonous, horny pig you’ve become. How far will you go? How much is ENOUGH for you piggy?
I want to play a game.
Here’s what is going to happen. You’ll be spending the entire week here, seven, very full days, as my personal pig. You will face numerous challenges and predicaments, all designed to test your resolve, examine the depth of your desire, push you beyond your limits, and keep you endlessly gorged to the brink of bursting. Consider it a piggy endurance test, a means of assessing and confirming just what a greedy, gluttonous, horny pig you truly are.
It will be a grueling, marathon of excessive, indulgent gluttony, agonizing pain and carnal, piggy pleasures. But If you survive, you’ll be validated in the knowledge that your destiny as a truly massive, gluttonous pig is secure. Free to waddle out of here, gorged beyond your wildest, greedy fantasies, and well on your way to becoming the immensely obese hog of your dreams. The title of shameless, greedy, gluttonous, horny pig well earned and rightly deserved.
I’m sure your fans and supporters will love gawking at your massively gorged belly once you’ve completed this gluttonous gauntlet. No doubt, you’ll want copies of the video and photos documenting your piggish performance . . . As a keepsake of course.
Are you pig enough to belly up, and meet the challenge Chromie?
Saw Inspired - Feeding Predicament Scenario 10 - Public Spectacle
Hello pig.
You’re proud of what you’ve done to yourself, stuffing your greedy face, stretching your pendulous, protruding belly, eager to grow yourself even fatter. But it’s not enough to simply indulge and glut yourself for your own enjoyment, is it?
You enjoy making a public spectacle of yourself, going to the local buffet to gorge, wearing clothing entirely inappropriate for your, so called physique. Waddling down the street with your flabby, jiggly bulges and rolls hanging out, straining the limits of your buttons and seams, just to see if anyone notices, just to get a reaction. Getting off on subjecting the public to your vulgar, blubberous display.
You post pictures of yourself, showing off your hoggish handiwork, enjoying the comments of shocked, unfortunate viewers. Accolades or insults, it’s all the same to you. You’re aroused by the teasing, the humiliation, even going out of your way to ask for it. Not only a glutton for food, but a glutton for punishment as well. You have no shame, no remorse, no regret, an absolute pig … An attention pig.
Does the entire world need to know what a gluttonous, depraved pig you are?
I want to play a game.
Your completely in the dark right now, unable to see anything. So let me paint a picture for you, and tell you what is about to happen. You are encased inside of a large, acrylic cube, on your hands and knees, with your head locked in a stanchion. A fitting position for a pig.
You are stripped completely naked, and spray painted a pretty, pink color. To complete your porcine transformation, you have been given a prosthetic piggy nose, floppy piggy ears, and springy, piggy tail. Topped off with a big, red bow, tied around your neck.
In front of you is a large trough, filled with the garbage you typically stuff yourself with, all ground up into an easy to gulp down pile of slop, enough to leave you feeling ready to explode.
To keep your other end occupied, the nozzle lodged in your ass will be slowly filling you with a concentrated, high calorie, rectal feeding solution, supplied from a tank hidden in the bottom of the box. Incidentally, the feeding solution is green, but more on that shortly.
There is enough feeding solution in the tank to fill you several times over. In order to stop the flow and gain your release before you balloon beyond your limits, you’re going to have to gorge yourself, emptying the trough completely. But don’t spill any. The floor of the box will sense any wasted food, causing the pump to run until the tank is depleted.
Now let me set the scene. It’s Christmas morning, and hundreds of people have gathered to see the huge, gift wrapped box that has mysteriously appeared in the town square over night. In a few moments, the sides of the box are going to drop, and the townsfolk will be enjoying stuffed pig for Christmas.
If you successfully make a swinish spectacle of yourself, and avoid being overfilled by the pump, the box will open and you will be released. Free to waddle your bloated ass through the gathered spectators to seek sanctuary. It will be interesting to see their reactions. Will they be sympathetic, repulsed, horrified, or will they simply laugh, amused by the all too familiar, ridiculous pig.
Just a note. The nozzle is affixed in your ass with a special adhesive, I wouldn’t recommend trying to have it removed. The adhesive will break down in eight hours, and the nozzle will come out on it’s own.
No game is complete without a time limit. In the generous spirit of the season, you will have thirty-five minutes to empty the trough and gorge yourself to the brink.
Just FYI, the concept of eating until you explode is a misnomer. While theoretically you could rupture your digestive organs, the contents of your innards would simply dump out into your abdominal cavity. You would be dead long before you could consume enough to cause your abdominal tissue and skin to burst open. However, I have found that pumping a pig full of an ample volume, at sufficient velocity and pressure, can indeed cause them to explode … after a fashion.
The tank below you contains two-hundred gallons of the highly pressurized, green feeding solution. If time runs out before you complete the challenge, the turbine driven pump will force all of that fluid into you in a matter of seconds. It will be agonizingly painful, but you will still be alive when you explode in a spectacle worthy splatter of festive red and green all over the inside of the box.
You’ve gotten just what you wanted for Christmas, your the center of attention. Will you die of gluttony, or die of humiliation and embarrassment?
Here we are again. I once asked you, how much is ENOUGH for you piggy. Clearly your gluttonous limits have not been reached, your greedy appetites still unsatisfied. You’ve taken your pig show on the road, joining with a fellow fatty for a public display of your gorging prowess. Boasting how you and your avaricious accomplice gorged down enough sushi to feed an entire Japanese family. Following up by proudly exhibiting pictures showing off the aftermath of your excess.
But for you, just being gorged to the brink isn’t enough, is it piggy? You crave more, seek bigger thrills, long for the ultimate fullness. Your obsession with consumption prompting you to swallow marbles and buttons for a cheap thrill, to feel their dense weight in your belly, aroused by the act of devouring more than just food. You’ll eat almost anything, won’t you pig?
As if that wasn’t enough, you long for the sensation of being stuffed from end to end, resisting the urge to relieve yourself, savoring the fullness of your bladder and colon. It gives new meaning to the adage, anal retentive, but then, I always suspected you were full of crap.
My what a depraved, perverse pig you are. Will you ever be satisfied, will you ever be, FULL ENOUGH?
I want to play a game.
It’s your birthday, so I got you a cake. It’s your favorite, a whole trough full of it, enough to fill that cavernous belly of yours, and then some. As for party favors, I thought we’d go all out.
Here’s what’s about to transpire. As our party game proceeds, the hose in your ass is going to begin filling you with something thick and warm … No, it’s not what your thinking. It’s a special recipe of my own, a two part, high calorie concoction. The two parts will mix within the nozzle, entering your ass as a liquid, and then slowly congealing into a thick paste.
While you’re enjoying that, a catheter is going to be pumping your bladder full of nice, warm liquid. Lastly, an inflatable, heavy duty, rubber plug will be expanded with a thick gel, steadily filling and stretching your pussy. All working in unison to give you that filled to the max feeling you crave so much.
Your lower orifices will continue to slowly fill until you have finished all of your cake piggy. There is no time limit, but in honor of your special day, at the twenty-three minute mark, your intestines, bladder and pussy will have reach their full capacity. From that point on, there’s going to be some rather intense stretching and expanding taking place.
Once you have finished all of your cake, the supply lines will automatically detach, and you will be released from your restraints, free to waddle out of here, and go relieve yourself. But knowing you, you may decide to leave the plugs in for awhile, and enjoy your celebratory, birthday stuffing.
As always, don’t waste any. The floor beneath you will sense any dropped cake, ending the game prematurely, and your lower orifices will continue to fill until your organs exceed their limits.
Happy Birthday little piggy. Your special day has all the makings of being a real blowout.
People say I’m cruel, perverse, sadistic, even homicidal … but I haven’t harmed anyone personally. Each of these greedy hogs had choices to make, chances to prove they were deserving of the lifestyles they’ve chosen. I’m just trying to help these dumb, fat, gluttonous pigs appreciate what they have, realize there is something more, and achieve their full potential. Choosing a life of gluttonous excess, and hedonistic overindulgence is a weighty decision, filled to bursting with potential risks. It should not be taken lightly.
Yours,
Pigsaw
As they say, All good things must end. This concludes the Saw Inspired - Feeding Predicament Scenario series. I hope you have enjoyed them. I have no plans at this time for any further scenarios … But then again … You never know???
I appreciate, and thank you for all the interest, likes and re-posts my writings have received. I am glad you all have enjoyed them so much.
From a dark room, Jake listened. Guys hooted to loud music and cheered others on as they drank. The frat party downstairs was in full swing.
Upstairs, Jake flicked on his phone to illuminate the room. Ryan’s room. Ryan was a senior that bullied Jake and other freshmen.
“Time to turn Ryan into a pathetic fuckboi.”
By the light of his phone screen, Jake found Ryans bed. Jake tapped the headboard, pillow and baseboard, whispering softly. The bed’s half-made sheets stirred and briefly shed a faint light.
Jake grinned. The spell was placed. His brothers didn’t know it, but Jake studied magic in his free time. Though magic was banned at the college, Jake knew he’d never get caught. Or if he was caught, Ryan would be too humiliated to do anything.
Jake was wrong.
A light knock on the door made Jake jump. He tripped over a pair or shoes and caught himself on the bed. Jake realized too late that he had made a mistake.
The spell trap triggered on him.
An invisible force pulled Jake into the air by his wrists and ankles. It threw him against the headboard and pulled his ankles over his head. A thread or magic held his hands and feet in place. Jake knew no amount of strength could free him. And the spell was not finished.
Like sand, Jake’s clothes fell off his body. His body hair similarly vanished. A cold gel oozed out of his exposed hole. Lube.
Jake struggled against the magic bonds, even though he knew it was pointless. He was fully exposed in the dark room. Goosebumps tickled their way across his butt.
The knock rapped again, but no one entered. When Jake heard light footsteps leading away, he relaxed. Maybe he could unravel the spell before anyone found him.
That’s when Jake heard footsteps coming back to the door. A pair.
The door flung open and the lights flooded the room. It was Ryan, and he was leading a girl into the room.
“Don’t worry, the guys won’t bother us up here. What’s wrong?”
Ryan followed the gaze of his girl to see Jake, ass-up, in bed.
“What the fuck, dude!”
“Maybe I should leave you boys alone,” the girl said.
“No, baby! It’s not like that!”
“Sure. Whatever.”
Ryan cursed as his hook-up stomped away. He spun around with a clenched fist, and Jake renewed his struggle against the spell.
“Well, since you ruined my night,” he growled.
He walked over and placed a warm hand on Jake’s buttcheek. Ryan ran his thumb over Jake’s lubed hole.
Jake moaned despite himself.
“I think I’ll get some action after all. And maybe invite some brothers up when I’m done.”
After trying one out you can remove it from the pool simply by watching a movie with me comfortably at home on the couch. But you get to be my pillow - I will sit on your naked balls, placed on the couch without your legs under them. Now let’s go and pick a movie from my favorite ‘redux / ultimate version’ collection.
