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The desserts were just coming out as Vincent proposed the unthinkable question, "What do you think about putting more weight on?" There were no words that Owen could think of that would make his master happy, so he gave a weak smile and said nothing. That wasn't a good enough answer, of course, and Vincent rephrased his question with a sharper tone, "I said, what do you think of gaining even more?"

He didn't know what to think, truthfully. Owen thought he'd done plenty of work already. Over a hundred pounds was plenty to talk about, and his doctors had already said he was well on his way towards the obese side of things. His belly was already feeling tightly squished against the booth table he was eating food on, and he knew it would be a real chore if he gained more weight. On the other hand, saying no to Vincent was like pulling teeth: you couldn't do it without a lot of painful repercussions. Owen didn't answer again, but he couldn't keep quiet forever.

"Hey, boy, I asked you a question." Vincent's sharp tone had taken a predatory edge now, and Owen felt his fur bristle on the back of his neck in a bit of fear.

"I mean, I thought you were happy with the progress I was making?" Owen finally, shyly, replied. He felt his appetite going away, even before he'd had the first bite, and he didn't even want to look at the ice cream sundae.

"That's not what I asked you." Vincent growled through bared fangs. He'd always had a bit of a rough temper. It came from having a lifetime of silver spoons crammed into his muzzle. He was the third son of a rich businessman, the local pizza chain owner, and with a family franchise like that securing his funding, Vincent had worked through his boredom and ample supply of pizzas by shoving them onto someone else for his pleasure. That someone had been Owen, first and foremost, but it wasn't long before Owen became more of a pet project than just a pet, and Owen was now only the first of a series of pets Vincent had all collared and tagged in his name. "I said, what do you think of gaining more?"

"I mean, uh," Owen stammered for a second, trying to get his opinion across while still respecting his master, "I guess I just thought this was enough. I mean, I'm two-fifty now, so how much could I really gain and still be attractive to anyone?" Owen fidgeted in his space, the booth not offering a lot of leeway for him. The fact that Vincent's sharp, wolfish gaze never wavered at his response meant that Owen had said something wrong. He knew he had, of course, but he didn't know what else to say. "I don't know, Sir. I was happy at two hundred. I put the rest of it on for you because I love you."

"Love," scoffed Vincent as if the word had no meaning beyond a vinegary taste in his muzzle. "That's what you think I'm doing this for? That's insulting to Billy, Jade, and Rott." Billy, Jade, and Rott were all other pets that Owen knew and interacted with on occasion. Like the pizza restaurants that Vincent's father and brothers owned, they were all separated and cared for as a whole. Vincent had made the mistake of telling one of them he'd loved them more than the others once, and the fight that ensued had led Jade to being in the hospital for three months under suicide watch.

Jade, for her part, was the only pet Vincent had that was in transition, and she was only in transition because Vincent was tired of Jade being indecisive about her decision to transition, since she was always so flamboyant and "girly," that he all but made that decision for her. As of today, Jade was still technically and realistically a male tabby cat with vibrant green eyes, but most people who saw her on the street would never have any idea of that. Jade's voice had always been in the androgynous range, and she could easily sound like a woman to anyone who wasn't looking at her pre-transition. Now, however, she wore summery dresses and had grown her hair out long, wore makeup occasionally if Vincent demanded it, and referred to herself only as a she. Vincent made sure she never slipped up in her identity change, which had become a crisis when she was put on suicide watch, prolonging her stay in the hospital. To say Jade and Owen got along was to say two abused people got along at therapy. Therapy, in fact, was the only place Owen ever got to see Jade, and she only got to see him there because Jade and Owen had agreed never to tell Vincent that they were both part of the same therapy group.

Billy, for his part, was the one Vincent actively loved. He was the reason Jade had identity issues, self-esteem issues, and depression beyond belief. Billy was also the only one Vincent hadn't tried to change in any real way. He was a goat, of course, and also the star runner on his college gymnastics team. Billy was built like a runner his whole life, and when he'd met Vincent the two had hit it off like dynamite going off. Technically, he'd known Vincent longer than Owen, but Owen had become the first pet officially. Billy was only a pet now because he had jealousy issues related to Owen getting so much love with his weight gaining. Vincent had gone on that kick when he'd researched how many calories one of his father's pizzas contained out of pure boredom one day, and had mandated Owen retain a diet of three of those pizzas a day unless otherwise commanded. Billy, not wanting to be left in the lurch, had begged Vincent to let him gain too, but Vincent had told him flatly no. Resigned to being a runner for his track team, Billy had just let his jealousy drop when he saw how quickly Owen was ballooning, realizing he didn't actually want to be fat. Billy was the only one Vincent actively fucked, too, and nobody was allowed to give Billy even a hug unless Vincent was okay with it.

Finally there was Rott. Rott wasn't his name, of course, but Owen had never learned his real name. He'd never even heard Rott speak, truthfully, but that was probably because of all the gear he wore. Redundant, in Owen's mind, that a rottweiler anthro had to wear puppy gear at all times in public. His paws were bound in sensory deprivation gloves, his muzzle latched shut by a combination pup hood and muzzle (another redundancy in Owen's mind), and he was forced to walk on all fours outside any establishment. Vincent was adamant that if Rott did anything at any point that was remotely anthro-like when outside, he'd beat Rott when they got home. Rott was allowed a modest attire, constituting the bare minimum to meet the "no shirt, no shoes, no service" rules most places required. All of it was leather gear, of course. The gloves were enough to count as shoes, a leather harness with a leather vest over it was enough to pass the shirt aspect, and the only pants Owen'd ever seen Rott wear were leather booty shorts that squeaked incessantly when he was forced to walk on all fours. Unlike everyone else in Vincent's family of pets, Rott had never once voiced a complaint to any of Vincent's demands. The whole get-up had been Rott's idea, and Vincent had been more than content to lean into it whole-heartedly. Even when inside public spaces, allowed to walk and talk like a normal anthro, Rott preferred to use feral noises to let Vincent translate for others.

Owen had met Vincent three years ago as a chance encounter in one of the pizza places in town his father owned. Vincent had been bored that day and decided he'd generously help his father out by working for a day at one of them. Obviously, Vincent had had to put on his facade of being a great guy then, and for whatever reason, Owen had bought into it eagerly enough. Vincent and Owen had met for lunch, for dinner, even for breakfast, all at the same pizza place, and every time for nearly two years Owen had met the same facade Vincent put on for everyone else. It was only a year ago today that Owen had seen the facade broken for him, and now he was trapped. He remembered it vividly, the day that Owen had been asked by Vincent to gain weight, to be his pudgy pig. Owen agreed, but their relationship was more or less dominated by Vincent by that point so he'd only agreed because he felt like Vincent was referring to just a little fat. Now it seemed he had different plans.

"Look, I don't know what kind of plans you had, but I don't want to get any bigger than this. It's hard enough to find clothes in my size as it is, and besides that, my family is starting to say I'm looking like some stereotype." Owen put his foot more firmly down, but that would be like saying one could press harder on chalk to make a bigger etching. It was full of weak words and excuses that Vincent had heard multiple times. "Sir." he added finally.

"And I don't know what kind of attitude you think you can pull here, but you know that I don't like it when you talk to me like that." Vincent gave a growl, the wolf seeming more than eager to launch across the table and cut Owen's throat out. "You saying you don't want to gain, then?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying. I don't want to end up like Jade." He said quietly, eyes now averted away from both the melting sundae and the fiery Vincent. "Please don't make me do it."

"Please what?" Growled Vincent.

"Please don't make me become some obese slobby pig, Sir." Owen was near to tears now. He was putting all of his emotion behind a wall and shoving it at Vincent as a shield.

Like a twig being snapped in half, Vincent's nice facade, if one could call the exchange so far nice, broke and the real wolf beneath let out a deep, private snarl under his growling breath. "I didn't ask you to become some obese slob, boy. I asked you to answer a question."

And I told you it, Owen thought to himself before he nodded. The shield was not going to hold for very long. "Yes, Sir. And I gave you my answer. No..."

"Well, if that's your answer," Vincent snarled, a paw curled into a fist beneath the table where even Owen couldn't see it, "Then you've forgotten the first rule of being my pet."

The first rule of being Vincent's pet was that you did what he said, when he said. If he told you to jump, your only replies were yes or how high. If you didn't jump...

"Yes, Sir." Owen resigned himself and a tear dribbled from one of his eyes. Vincent could see it all over Owen that he'd won, but Vincent was never one to stop when he was ahead.

"Don't give me the waterworks, piggy. I don't buy that shit for a minute. Especially not with Jade." Vincent used his paw to shove the ice cream closer to Owen's belly, wanting Owen to eat. "I don't think crying into your ice cream is going to make it taste better."

"Why do you want me to be fatter?" Owen felt the shield crumbling around him, tears starting to build in his eyes. "What's wrong with me as I am-"

"Oh for fuck's sake." Vincent snapped again, his tone so low the pig felt it in his own chest rumbling around, "Eat your goddamn ice cream and celebrate your weight goal. Or do you want everyone here to watch me feed you, you goddamn baby."

Owen swallowed hard, bracing the shield once again, this time against everyone else in the diner, none of whom had noticed what was going on between Owen and Vincent. Owen reluctantly obliged and began to slowly eat the ice cream. Vincent watched him with sharp and deadly intent for a moment before he leaned back in his seat at the booth.

"There's a piggy. Eat it all down. And don't bother wiping your face this time." Vincent returned to his nicer facade again, especially as the waitress came over and refilled his coffee mug. When offered a refill of his, Owen merely shook his head and refused eye contact with her, now engrossed in the food he was eating. After she'd left, Vincent continued what he'd been saying, "Since you think being a slobby, obese piggy is what I want you to be, that's what you're going to be now. I don't want you even so much as washing your hands without my say so from now on, got it?" Owen got it. "You think you're becoming a stereotype now, wait 'til I'm done with you." Owen got that, too. "And for the record, you've upset me. I'm going to have to punish you when we get home."

When the check came, Owen had to get that, too.

Time passed slowly when Owen was by himself nowadays. He'd been in self-isolation for nearly three months, and in that time, the whole world outside might as well have been burning. Pizza places closed their interiors, so Vincent had had plenty of time to spend with his pets outside of the safe work environments. He made house calls exclusively for their sake, believing all of them to be too fragile to even go outside without so much as sneezing.

Jade had been the most at-risk healthwise, having only recently come home from the hospital just before all of the pandemic hit, and had been ordered by more than just Vincent to stay home. Owen kept up with her via texting and online chats, but he felt terrible every time he talked to her. She was in a storm without shelter when Vincent came by, and he'd received obligatory texts and pictures of her dressed up as little more than a doll for Vincent to bone whenever he wanted. Owen hated talking to Jade when she was so depressed because now he couldn't go comfort her in person in therapy. Jade, for the most part, seemed like she was better than she had been in the hospital, and at the least Vincent had never once abused Jade because of her gender or even so much as made fun of her transitioning, which was more than Owen could say about Billy.

He'd blocked Billy online for a few weeks until Vincent forced him to unblock his boyfriend and pet. But Billy had been incredibly boring to talk to otherwise. Billy had actively taken to working out at home finally, after a month of sitting around doing nothing, and now Billy was a self-proclaimed health nut that knew everything about health that YouTube had to offer. All Owen ever did in his chats with Billy now was copy and paste the word "Yeah" to every text Billy sent, which Billy never seemed to catch on about.

Rott had finally broken his silence, too, being forced to stay home had left him entirely without a social setting for him to show off his pup nature. At first, Rott had been trying to communicate with just feral noises in video chats, but when Owen found himself getting annoyed by them, Rott finally relented and began to actually talk with words. Now he knew why Rott only preferred feral noises was because Rott felt like his voice was awful to listen to. He'd given Owen more than one adult show via video conferencing with Vincent, Billy and Jade. Everyone was obliged to clap and cheer Rott on as he put his pup costume on "all by himself" and congratulate him on being a good boy. That's all it took to get Rott off, usually.

Owen stayed home, stayed away from chatting with the other pets and his master as much as he could, and buried himself in the one thing that had any meaning in his life. He'd been given an allowance by Vincent, as had all the pets, to order groceries and food so they could all stay home. Owen blew through it repeatedly initially, Vincent had balked every time about it, degraded Owen's allowance, and then eventually realized that by doing that he'd eventually make Owen lose weight, so he upped it to whatever Owen needed whenever Owen needed it. And as long as Owen took pictures of what he bought when it arrived, Vincent kept dumping the money on his prized pig. Owen had bought delivery non-stop for the last three weeks now, and had given up on making dinner for himself with groceries.

So it was that Owen found Vincent treating him nicer than he'd ever been treated when Vincent did come over. Owen had been forced, not by Vincent but by a pandemic of all things, to obey his master and become a slobby pig. The apartment that Owen rented now smelled of all sorts of food containers from all sorts of food places, and he only ever took the trash out when a next door neighbor knocked on his door complaining about the smell. Inside the apartment, the kitchen had become an unusable room entirely, and ironically it was the bathroom that was now the cleanest room in the whole place. Trash piled high in the kitchen, becoming a to-do list on its own, and the shower and sink had both become dusty from disuse. True to Vincent's commands, Owen hadn't even washed his hands during all of this. He supposed it was a good thing that nobody else besides Vincent came over.

Instead of beating him for his habits, Vincent had rewarded him by knocking over neat piles of food trays and delivery bags, making the to-do list even messier. Instead of berating him for not eating enough, Vincent stuffed his pig full with whatever meal he'd happened to show up for. And Owen had been forced to contend with something he'd never thought he'd feel again after Vincent had revealed his true colors: happiness.

Owen had ballooned from fast food and the lack of moving outside of his apartment. He'd been 250 pounds at the diner that day four months ago, but now he was pushing 450 pounds. He'd almost doubled his weight in four months when it had taken him almost a year to double his weight initially. And what was more, Owen had primarily done it to himself without Vincent's help. Vincent only came over three times a week, sometimes only twice a week, in an effort to spend a day with his pets in a cyclic order. Billy didn't count as a pet, really, since he actually lived with Vincent. And between Owen, Jade, and Rott, Owen was the one that Vincent prioritized over the rest. Jade got the least visits since she couldn't begin her physical transition any farther during all of this, so Vincent had become irate and bored with her more than anything.

But after four months of no showers, no hand-washing, not even having to excuse himself for belching or farting with nobody around to excuse himself to, Owen didn't even look like himself anymore. Owen had at first been too depressed to look in the mirror, but now he reveled in it. He'd stare at himself four hours a day now (whether it was a lack of things to do or because he'd become obsessed with his looks, Owen wasn't sure), and often he dared to let out a feral oink or grunt to remind himself of his species. The pig that looked back in the mirror was noticeably bigger every day, noticeably more like a hog than a pig, and noticeably unlike the promising college student Owen had been merely a year ago.

His hair was long now, stringy and greasy and messy, but he'd done the only clean thing he could think to do by tying it back with a rubber band. That rubber band was always replaced after Vincent came back, of course, because it was always thrown away somewhere in the apartment. Owen would have to really buckle down to clean the place once this pandemic was all over. When he had more time to do stuff.

Owen's pig skin had somehow thickened a bit in some spots, feeling more like thick, coarse feral pigskin than cared for, clean anthro pigskin. And somehow, Owen's mental capacity had degraded too. He knew it was happening when Vincent had come over the last time and it had taken Owen a while to think about a response to what Owen wanted to do after a feeding session. Owen had just gone with another feeding session until Vincent ran out of food, but afterwards he'd been alone and had to think about everything by himself. He'd concluded that he didn't need much brain capacity lately because of the world he'd been dropped into; the world at large was shut off from him, so his capacity to think about anything had devolved into what to binge or stream, what to order for food, and when he wanted to talk to someone online or with his phone if he didn't feel like getting up off the couch. Vincent had become amiable, nice even, and so Owen never needed to think with Vincent around about how to talk to people either very often. He was okay with just doing whatever felt increasingly natural and was rewarded with it.

He'd never felt happy like this as a skinny college kid. His parents had shoved him off to a boarding school because public schools "only made fun of pigs," and when he'd graduated at his private high school as valedictorian, he'd been shoved off to the state's best private college. After being shoved into a place where his family no longer were there to help him physically, he'd been forced to think on his own, analyze and second-guess every decision, and it had driven him into a depression that a lot of college freshmen seem to develop when left with freedoms they'd never truly experienced before. Most freshmen drowned the depression with distractions, but Owen had shoved his nose deep into the pages of his books because if he hadn't, he worried everyone would throw him a ton of stereotypical "Party Pig" nicknames. Pigs, as a general anthro species, were never lauded for anything other than being fat, slobby, or fat and slobby. No pigs ever won the presidency of anything ranging from the local PTA to the government. No pigs ever had invented anything in history that had mattered (except for that pig chef who'd helped co-develop plastic tupperwares). And no pig ever amounted to anything in his family, either. They were no stain in history's pages, of course, but nobody ever remarked about pigs either. They simply were extras in the crowds of movie scenes when it came to their species's history.

Owen, now, felt exhilarated and invigorated. He was able to eat when he wanted, what he wanted, and the only opinion whose mattered was Vincent's, and he was always so glad to see his prize pig that Owen once caught himself with a boner while talking to Vincent on the phone about how good a pig he was.

It was a feeling so strange that Owen hadn't even thought it was one he was allowed to have. And yet, he had it all the time. A feeling of elation shining so bright that Owen had become drunk on it. He never wanted it to end. And the thought that the pandemic would eventually end was the only blemish in Owen's mind keeping him from feeling elated all the time. Eventually, things would be normal again, and Owen would have to be normal again. But he wasn't normal anymore, he wasn't even just fat now, he was becoming a big, dumb pig. One who wallowed in his own filthy apartment, didn't exercise, ate everything in the food trays he constantly piled up. He wasn't normal. He was becoming a stereotype. And that idea suddenly went from being terrifying to becoming arousing.

Perhaps that was why he didn't talk to Jade as much as he sometimes wanted to, or Rott, or Billy, for that matter. They were all different levels of boring or depressing, and Owen wasn't about that kind of life anymore. He was about food, good and greasy and hot, and not moving off the couch if he could help it. He didn't even think about them-

Bzzzzt. Bzzzzt. Bzzzzt.

Damn it.

He flipped his phone from off one of his moobs, and sat up wheezing a bit from the heft he had to move, which caused his phone to fall to the floor by his foot. Goddammit. He cursed himself as he bent down, struggling to reach the floor by his foot. He had hooves for feet, trotters some called them, and so those were useless in helping him grab his phone. The massive belly in his way instead got caught in his chest and his chest got caught in the double chins he had. It all mashed together into a massive ball in the front. The mass was soft, easily pliable, but it wasn't something you could just suck in and be able to reach farther. He'd been stuck playing the same video game for two weeks because the remote had been lost somewhere under the couch, and Owen wasn't nearly ready to get on all fours to dig a fat hand under the couch, especially since that hand was now too fat to even fit in that space beneath the couch. He'd restarted the game three times now because he'd beaten it, and the TV was getting fuzzy from image burn-in, but he wasn't about to get up and lift that couch for some damn remote.

Finally, he grappled his phone, grunting, panting, starting to lift himself back up. He felt sweat bearing down his back, beading over his forehead, and piling up in his folds. He was so out of shape now, he doubted he could even lift the couch. Maybe Vincent would grab the remote next time he came over.

He flipped the phone the right direction and swiped the screen to get to the message he had. It was from Jade. He immediately put the phone down without even responding to it and went back to playing his game. He did not want to hear from Ms. Depressing today. An hour became three, and Owen realized he was getting bored with grinding in his game. Was it more boring to text her or play his game?

He answered the phone. At least it was new content he hadn't seen before. He saw that in the time she'd sent the first text, she'd sent seven more. That must account for the tickling feeling on his moob that had occurred randomly during the intermission. She didn't want to text though. Not today. She wanted to video chat, and this time she wanted to do it without Vincent and the others around.

For once, Owen had to think about the reply. It required more than a yes or no thought process. It hurt his brain, and he immediately began to set the phone down on instinct to play the game again, but he felt a twinge of regret and he picked the phone back up and replied with an affirmative. It couldn't be worse than those therapy group sessions he used to have with her.

After the obligatory greetings between them, the video chat started properly, and Owen was struck dumb for a minute. Was this what Jade looked like now? What in the hell had happened to her? It was a bit infuriating that he couldn't remember her old appearance at first, but when he did, he realized that all that was different was a bit of makeup. The makeup hid the bruises from Vincent's berating tirades in the past, but with Vincent taking such little interest in her, the makeup wasn't needed to be so heavy, and indeed there weren't any bruises anymore either. She looked beautiful, stunning. She looked like a she, for once, and not like an androgynous tabby. Owen was dumbfounded long enough that Jade took notice.

"Uh, Owen?" She requested, and he had to admit even her voice sounded lighter and airier than he remembered. More properly feminine. Was she actively transitioning at home somehow? He struggled to remember that, yes, she was still transitioning at home. She had her hormonal medications that she was taking. She wasn't just sitting at home getting fat and lazy like he was. She was keeping up with her goals, or at least Vincent's goals for her.

"S- Sorry," Owen apologized, the glazed look in his eyes clearing up finally. "I'm just... I'm shocked how good you look today." It was all he could think of saying, and his sweaty, messy face made him feel a pang of guilt that he didn't look as clean or nice as her initially. He swallowed it down with a can of soda, something he'd become proud he could drain in one go. He let loose a deafening belch, something that Jade didn't seem to mind. She'd gotten used to him too, it seemed.

"I feel good. For the first time in a long time, I think." Jade brushed her long bangs from her face and behind her ears as she pulled it into a loose ponytail. "I feel like myself, kind of." With her hair behind her now, Owen obliged and did the same, though it took way more effort for him. He was panting and sweating harder by the time his arms figured out how to tie his hair back while keeping the video call going on his chest without losing her or the rubber band. "You look good too."

"Thanks, I... uh... whew, it's getting hot in here." Owen blushed, realizing that when the pandemic had started, it was still cold enough to not need the air conditioning. After three months, it was summer, and now he needed that cool air. A wall-mounted unit was on the other side of the room. Mentally, he hissed at it like an angry snake, and averted his gaze from it. "Yeah, I think I'm about 450 now, actually. I'm surprised how quickly I'm putting it on."

Jade started to say something, but Owen found himself looking back at the air conditioning, and by the time she was snapping her fingers to get him back to the conversation, he swore aloud, "Damn it, sorry. What were you saying?"

"I was just telling you how things were going for me. Were you even listening?"

"Of course, I was. I... uh, you said your hormones are really changing and it doesn't feel great, but that you're happy all the same." He lied, hoping that she would agree to that statement. Thankfully, that's exactly what she had said. "I gotta say, Jade, it's really nice to see you again."

Was he actually happy about talking to her now? What the hell was wrong with him for thinking of her as Ms. Depressing earlier?

"It's nice to see you too. What's it been, three weeks since that last call with Master?" She asked. Owen didn't even want to think back that far. Time blurred into a blob after two meals into the past, and Owen shrugged his mountainous, fatty shoulders. "Well, anyways. I'm glad you're here. I wanted to ask you something."

"Huh?" Owen had never been asked something by Jade before. In therapy sessions, she'd always posed her questions as cries to the heavens, rhetorical statements that nobody else had answers to even if they were directly asked. Master had never let anyone else ask questions other than to him in the video conferences. Owen had no idea how to reply other than that.

"Well, you know I'm still changing over and all. So I wanted your advice on something." She said softly, a blush creeping up behind her makeup, making her whole face reddish-orange. "If you're okay with it, would you maybe want to meet up this evening? Master is going to be with Rott tonight, and he won't be around for either of us."

Jade wanted to hang out on her own. She felt confident enough in herself to go out into public spaces long enough to get to someone else's place, even if she spent the whole time on just a bus. Wait, she couldn't spend the time on the bus, since the bus lines had all been shut down two months ago. How the hell was she going to walk across town without breaking into tears at the first sight of someone commenting on her gender fluidity?

"Do you mean it?" Owen asked with complete shock and surprise in his throat.

"Of course, I mean it. I actually feel good with myself now. Like, I mean, I never felt like myself as a guy, of course. I still haven't gotten that taken care of, but I feel good with myself for a change. Master isn't making me feel bad about myself, you know?" Jade was genuinely putting herself out there, and Owen realized how hard it was making him think about complicated, complex things like Jade's transition. "Of course, he just wants me to be my best self, so I know why he says those things. But you've always been nice to me, even when I was a guy. So, what do you say?"

Owen had nothing else to say but yes. And she hung up the call saying she'd be over in an hour. The fat pig could hardly wait.

Vincent broke the TV with his fist as he let out a snarling howl. Two of his pets were in the same apartment together, and what was worse, they were doing something only he was allowed to do. He'd beaten Jade with his claws already, and she was cowering in the bathroom with her back against the door, sobbing. Owen's TV was broken now, and Vincent knew it was going to be his turn to get broken in a minute.

When Jade had hung up the phone, she had left to go to Owen's immediately. She'd put on her best summery dress, a yellow daisy-patterned floral dress which complimented her tabby fur colors. It brought out her eyes too, thanks to the daisies all having highlights of green in them. But it had made her incredibly easy to spot on the street. And when Jade walked across town in that dress, she was bound to bring some looks to her. Vincent had been one of those who'd seen her, and at first he'd been so enraged he had gone to Rott's house and chained him to the bed so that he couldn't think of doing the same thing. Rott had been beaten, Owen imagined, otherwise why would Vincent have blood on his fists when he kicked in Owen's door?

But when she'd gotten there, he'd just finished ordering dinner. Jade and Owen had shared a meal together, breaking Master's rule of hanging out, and to make things really worse, she'd even tried to be the feeder in the situation. As if things weren't enough of a horror story, Owen had taken it a step farther by getting into the role of being the prize pig, and Jade was more than happy to play the game with him.

"What in the actual fuck are you doing, just sitting there?" Vincent roared at Owen as he lumbered over to the pig quivering in fear and sweat. His arousal had abated when the fists started flying, but Vincent knew it was there somewhere. "Getting hard over my pet? What the fuck is wrong with you, pig? Are you that stupid now?"

Owen tried to mumble an apology, but he couldn't even find words. Thinking was so hard all of a sudden, it hurt his brain. He'd gone from one overload of emotions to another. Jade was so soft, so gentle, in her feeding. It felt like angels caressing every part of his body while she fed him. He'd restrained himself because she was so small compared to his mass now, but she didn't want to think about tying him down like Owen had suggested because she didn't like bondage. Owen had just let her be in charge since that's all he had known. He had been so close to making a mess in his stained, ripped, too-small pants. So close to that sweetest release-

"Stupid, I'm talking to you." Vincent broke his concentration, and Owen realized he'd been getting aroused again from mere memories of twenty minutes ago. "Fuck, I didn't realize you had so few brains in that pig head of yours. What, did it all turn to fat after she fed you or something?" Vincent raised his claws to hit Owen, but he stopped when Owen's whole body jiggled from the flinch.

"I'm sorry, Sir!" He squealed, sounding more like a feral pig trying to make words than an anthro pig who gave a twenty minute speech at his high school graduation on the virtues of earnest integrity. It wasn't enough of an apology, but Owen's mind was slow to jumpstart. It was all he could think.

"If you're sorry, then why'd you make me hit her?" He heard Vincent shouting as he squinted his eyes shut, "Why's your TV broken if you're so sorry?"

"Master, please, I'm sorry... I didn't mean it-" He begged. His eyes were still closed as he felt Vincent push Owen on the couch, and with surprisingly powerful strength, he felt the couch tip backwards, and Owen tipped backwards onto his floor, landing on his back. His lardy self tumbled, or more accurately, puddled, onto the floor behind the couch.

"Shut the fuck up, Piggy. You've been bad and now I have to punish you." Vincent roared out. He tackled the massive piggy, and punched him hard in the snout. Owen tasted and felt blood pooling in the back of his throat and in his nostrils. But then he felt something else. Vincent was tearing his pants off, then his shirt, and soon Owen was naked on the floor beneath the violent wolf. Owen's eyes were closed from the pain and from fear, so he didn't realize that Vincent's form of punishment was coming. "I have to fuck you, now. And when I'm done fucking you, you're going to squeal like a pig. You're going to oink for forgiveness, and when I'm done, if you have any brains left in you, you're going to apologize to Jade for making the mistake of trying to be a smart pig."

"Yes, Sir. Never going to try to be a smart pig again. I promise, Sir." He squealed, then let out a series of half-assed oinks. He'd never had to make an oink before, so he didn't know exactly how to do it. It was an instinct he'd lost over eons of never needing to do it in his evolution. But the last one came out surprisingly natural, and he was tempted to do another one before he felt the rest of the food that Jade had been stuffing into Owen's face fill his snout again.

Feeding and fucking at once. Owen's body didn't know how to respond, and his brain shut down entirely during the whole scenario. It was violent, it was rough, and Owen had more than a rug-burn on his back when it was all over. But it was over far too soon, as two police officers stormed the apartment the second Owen was about to cum. Vincent had already let loose his seed, and the food stuffing his muzzle made it hard to breath with his broken nose, so Owen choked a bit and gagged as he tried to get up while the cops dragged a raging Vincent away from the pig on the floor, Owen covered in sweat, a little blood, food, and cum. Once Vincent was gone, though, the room was quiet for a long time.

The police hadn't taken Vincent and left the victims entirely, but the fact that Vincent put up such a fight was enough to require the cops to leave the victims for the time being. They'd been called in for domestic disturbance, but they were leaving with a vicious assault on two police officers, vandalism to a police cruiser, and rape charges along with domestic disturbance. Owen knew that at the very least, Vincent would get away scot-free. People like Vincent never went away for long.

But the silence in the room was enough for Jade to peer out of the bathroom. She came out, quivering in such fear that she had nothing but jumpy nerves and nearly fled to the bathroom when Owen coughed and rolled onto his side.

"Jade," He called out, hoarse from the food and blood caking the back of his throat and his nose stopped up. He coughed a bit, holding a hand out for her. Eventually, she took it, and he opened his eyes at her. He called her name one more time, and then she had his hand in her dainty one, and he looked at her, tears streaming from his eyes.

"Owen, I'm here," She said quietly, to the point that he barely heard her.

"N- Not Owen," He said, wincing at the name. "Just Piggy now... Master said I'm a big dumb pig now... that's all I am." Jade began to tear up at the thought of that, but Owen began to recover from the haze and realized his mind was settling into something new. Someplace he'd never thought he'd go. Someplace he was terrified to admit he loved.

"No, no, that's not it," Jade tried to protest. She kissed his dirty hand, and she didn't even mind the awful taste his skin had from the lack of washing them for months. "Owen-"

"Piggy," He said, in a dazed tone, and his eyes glazed back over for a moment. When they recovered, he looked into her eyes, "I'm... I'm Piggy now. Big and dumb. Just an eating machine, like Master said. That's... that's what I am. And I want you to know I'm okay with that."

Jade was bawling, even as the paramedics arrived and began to take both of them to the hospital. It was the last thing Owen heard before he passed out from the morphine they gave him on the way to the hospital.

After the pandemic had ended, the charges had been dropped, and Owen and Jade had been released of their own volition into the world again, things had returned to that old normal for a while. They didn't see each other again for quite a while, Vincent had made sure of it, and if either of them even felt the urge to say anything against him from the incident, Vincent had Billy take care of them. Billy became less of a runner and more of a bodyguard. Billy now accompanied Vincent on every visit to Owen's, and while they never spoke, Billy looked surprisingly sexier as a buff billy goat than a young athletic runner. Owen had told Vincent of his impure thoughts, once, but Vincent had laughed them off as another dumb rambling from a stupid pig.

The pig oinked as he felt his Master push a spoonful of ice cream into his snout. Owen was panting hard, barely able to think of anything but the ice cream and the urge to guzzle whole tubs of ice cream down. Now closer to 800 pounds, it had been a year since that day in the diner when Vincent had mandated that Owen keep gaining until his decree that the pig had reached the right weight. Owen hadn't heard his name in months from anyone that wasn't his family, and his family were increasingly abandoning him thanks to Vincent's powerful persuasion on every phone call or visit.

Piggy, as he was collared and tagged now, oinked again for more food. Oinking felt good to do, it was so much easier than talking. He knew why Rott loved barking so much now. It was primal but it covered all the ground it needed to. He still talked, of course, but Piggy loved being what he was. That hadn't taken any real thinking to overcome. Piggy was a big, fat, lardass with barely any power in his thoughts beyond eating and pleasing Master. Master was more than happy to keep his Piggy that way. That's why they were eating in Piggy's apartment.

"Who's a good Piggy? You are." Vincent said every time he spoon fed the pig more ice cream. He knew it was slower than his preferred method of just letting Piggy eat all the ice cream with the tub on his chest. But he knew it was something that kept them both happy. Vincent was happy to oblige the Piggy, even if Billy always talked about how much time he spent feeding the Piggy.

"C'mon Master, we have to get going. It's almost ten at night." Billy requested as he looked at his phone.

"Okay, fine. But I'm going to be mad if you get impatient with me again." Vincent said in an almost joking tone. He set the spoon down and stuck the tub of ice cream around Piggy's snout like a feedbag. Piggy was so big now that his jowls and chins easily held the ice cream tub up without needing to worry about it falling off. "Piggy, you going to be ok when I leave?" Piggy nodded. He'd be okay, even if it was really hard to leave the house, or get out of bed, or go to the tiny apartment bathroom. He wasn't useless, much as he loved to be. "Are you still my good piggy?" He nodded again, and Piggy let out a muffled oink of pleasure to having the ice cream covering his dirty snout.

"Master," Piggy asked as he finished slurping the ice cream. He panted into the tub of ice cream, getting just enough air from the edges of the tub coming in to keep from suffocating. "Am I good?"

"Of course, Piggy." Vincent replied as he stood up and began to wash his hands in the otherwise cluttered sink.

"I mean, am I good size?" Piggy's words were hard to understand, and they already felt crude and uncharacteristic of a normal anthro's speech. "Can I go outside again?"

Vincent stopped washing his hands and looked over at the pig taking up the whole couch, a couch that Vincent had special-ordered for Piggy after the incident. It was super strong, holding the massive hog up, but it wasn't big enough to keep his sides from draping off the edges. The pig was too massive for a normal couch anymore. Wheezing and panting around the ice cream tub, Vincent took the tub off Piggy's snout and glared into his eyes, "Why do you want to go outside again?"

"I don't know, Sir." He said with a trace of absent-mindedness in his voice. Piggy truly didn't know anymore, but it felt like something he wanted to do. "Just want to go outside. Let others love Piggy like you do."

"That's a good idea," Vincent said, satisfied with the answer. "I do want everyone to see who you truly are, boy. But not today. And not tomorrow. Not next week, and not next month or next year."

"Sir?" Piggy oinked.

"When you're done growing, when you're my prize winning piggy, and you break some records, I'll make sure everyone knows who you are."

The answer satisfied Vincent, and the look on his face made Piggy nod with glee. He let out a squeal and smiled, the fat contorting around his massive and chubby face. He'd be famous, then. He'd be something that no pig had ever been. He'd be someone.

Piggy liked being someone. He liked being Master's, too.