So there I was, butt-naked and being manhandled by my arch-nemesis’ guards, about to be subjected to who-knows-what.
	
It was supposed to be a simple mission, a quick in-and-out scenario, just for a few important computer files. Completely top-secret, planned out extensively, beautifully orchestrated, and the entire thing was a setup. Who knew the world’s most advanced spy technology could be thwarted by a single trapdoor?

	Nevertheless, I fell into the hands of a mortal enemy. A literal wolf, a hound suspected of almost everything, but never proven guilty of anything. Those files would’ve been the last piece of the puzzle, had they been real.

	When I landed on the ground, way down under the trapdoor, his canine guards were ready for me. Before I even registered what was happening, the three of them grabbed me and relieved me of my weapons, spy tech, and clothing. When I realized they were stripping me entirely I had to yell, “What are you doing!?”

	“Boss’s instructions:” said one of them, “nuthin’ but bare skin. He says you spies are tricky, you can hide weapons in any piece a’ clothing.”

	One lifted me up by my arms and pinned me against the wall. “More a’ boss’s instructions,” he said.

	I wondered what he meant for a second until he shoved a gloved finger in my ass. I gasped as he worked it further and further in, feeling around for any contraband. “Tricky spies, they hide weapons anywhere,” said the guard.

	I couldn’t help but groan in pained relief as he pulled his hand out. “You like this, piggy?” he taunted.

	They flipped me around on the wall, and I dreaded what would come next. They started with my nose, mouth, and ears, but of course moved further and further down. I yelled as a guard grasped by balls, and yanked them up to check under them. “All clear,” he said.

	“Couldn’t fit much there, anyway.” They all laughed.

	Two of the guards took my arms on either side, and started walking me through the facility. “You oughta be excited,” one said, “You’re gettin’ your own special room.”

	They lead me into the room, and there it was: a giant screen, taking up the entire surface of the wall. On it was his big, smug face.

	The guards sat me down in a restraint chair in the middle of the floor, and tightened the straps over my wrists, ankles, waist, and thighs. I knew why the wolf did it: he wanted me to feel small and powerless compared to his giant figure on the screen. I knew by the look on his face that he was about to say something annoying.

	“Oh, hello there, Tango,” he said in mock surprise, “Or should I say Porky Pig? I appreciate you dropping in on such short notice, I expected it to be much harder to capture you. It’s a shame, really; you got so far, even I started to root for you. But, as you must know, business is business. Today truly is a day of celebration, but you went above and beyond wearing your birthday suit. And I must say, I never imagined it to be anything major, but now that I can see it for myself, the size is downright shocking!”

	“Fuckface!” I called him.

	“That’s Mister Fuckface to you,” he said, “And for that quip, I think some kind of punishment is in order. Guards!”

	A guard walked up to me from behind, and waved a stun gun in front of my face. He gave it a few play buzzes, just to show me what it could do, before digging it into my chest and holding on for about five seconds. I think I screamed, but it was difficult for me to hear or see anything with the sparks flashing through my eyes. Finally he let go, and the wolf started talking again through my panting.

	“I don’t know if you’re familiar with 1984,” he said, “If so, you can just think of me as Big Brother, constantly watching over you, and making sure you’re thinking the right things. If you aren’t familiar with 1984, then let me put it like this: I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your will down!”

	“Why?”  I asked, “Why are you doing this? Why am I naked?”

	“You noticed?” he asked, presumably waiting for a laugh track. “To put it simply, I am a very traditional man. Piggies like you shouldn’t be doing tough spy work, putting yourselves in danger and me out of business. Call me old-fashioned, but I believe that piggies were made for simple lives, eating slop, rolling naked through the mud, and, most importantly, getting fatter and fatter every day, until they’re too big to do any spying.”

	“W—what are you saying?” I asked.

	“Haven’t I spelled it out for you?” he asked, “I’m going to make you my very own little piggy. I’m going to keep you here, and train you and train you until you have the mind and body you were always meant to have! And then it’ll be just you and me, Wolfie and Piggy, best of friends until your inevitable heart failure.”

	“You’ll never be able to do it!” I yelled, “HQ will be looking for me day in and day out.”

	“Oh really?” asked the wolf, “I don’t recall them looking for your predecessors, Quebec, Romeo, and Sierra. Cute naming system, by the way; it’s great for instantly determining if someone is a spy from your department. In fact, I was thinking of torturing you for your real name, but I realized it would be much more fun if I gave you a new one instead. Guards!”

	Once again a guard walked up to me, this time waving a collar in front of my face. It was simple: a gold plaque, which read out “PIGGY” in black letters. There wasn’t much I could do to stop the guard from strapping it on me.

	“Not too tight,” said the wolf, “I wouldn’t want to keep him from swallowing.” Once the collar was secured, he started talking again. “Oh, isn’t it just wonderful? If you ever get lost, people will know what to call you. It’s totally redundant, of course, as you’ll never escape from here, but the symbolism is just delicious. And speaking of delicious… Guards!”

	The guards walked up again, this time attaching a tray to my restraint chair. It was about neck-high for me, and prevented me from looking at the rest of my body. The wolf started humming "For he’s a Jolly Good Fellow" as the guards placed a cake on the tray. It was shaped like a smiling cartoon pig, and was possibly the most condescending cake I had ever seen.

	“I thought for your first gaining,” said the wolf, “I’d start out with something special. And what could be more special to stuff your face with, Piggy?”

	“Oh yeah?” I said, “And what if I just don’t eat it?”

	“Oh no! If only I’d thought of that!” said the wolf sarcastically. “Guards!”

	The guards walked up to me, carrying what appeared to be a strange-looking cylindrical tube. I was confused at first, until one of them bent down, and started sliding the tube over my dick.

	“What the—What are you doing!” I yelled.

	“Shh, just relax, Piggy.”

	They fastened the tube to my restraints, leaving me completely vulnerable with the wolf. Slowly, it started pumping, bringing me unwillingly to half-staff, and then finally to a full erection. I was so embarrassed, I couldn’t even make eye contact with the screen.”

	“Now doesn’t that feel good, Piggy?” I didn’t answer. 

“Let me repeat,” he said, “Doesn’t that feel good?” I still didn’t answer.

	He held up a remote control to the camera, and pressed a button on it. Instantly, I felt a painful shock jolt through my shaft and balls, which continued coursing through my body as long as he held the button. Finally he let go and repeated, “Now tell me, doesn’t that feel good?”

	“Y—yes!” I shouted, “Yes, it feels good!”

	“That’s good,” he said, “Now, I presume you’re going to eat the cake. Just imagine it’s in a trough, that should make it easy for you.”

	Slowly, I bent my head down to the tray, and took a bite of the cake. I have no idea how he knew, but it was my favorite flavor.

	“Faster!” he yelled. I started eating faster, trying to get it down as fast as I could without making a mess.

	“Faster! Faster!” he yelled, “Dig your face in, eat it like the pig you are!”

	I obliged, and reluctantly stuck my whole face in the cake, getting completely covered in crumbs and frosting. As I kept eating, I realized the tube on my cock was getting faster and faster. They were pavloving me! And there was nothing I could do about it.

	I groaned in a mix of pain and pleasure, which was mostly muffled by the cake in my mouth. I quickly realized that, the more you try to eat an entire cake, the worse and worse it starts to taste. I slowed down more and more as the pain in my stomach grew too great, and eventually lifted my head with half the cake still there, panting.

	“Please,” I begged, “I’m so full it hurts.”

	He held up the remote. “Fifty volts says you have room for a little more.”

	“Please,” I said, but he didn’t care. He laid down on the button, causing me to scream out in pain as my poor cock and balls were jolted for what felt like an eternity.

	“Now, finish it,” he said.

	I had no choice but to push through the pain. At this point I was barely even registering the flavor of the cake, I was just trying my best to get what I could down my throat without throwing up. As I was about 2/3 of the way through, a guard came up and loosened my waist restraint, revealing how much I had bloated in the last 10 minutes. Finally, I had reduced it down to one last bite, which I painfully forced down my throat. I leaned back and gasped for air.

	“Well done, Piggy,” said the wolf, “That’s your first meal down! And for being such a good boy, I think you deserve a reward.” He pressed another button on his remote, and the tube on my cock started pumping at full force. I struggled in the chair trying to resist the pleasure, but it was too much. I moaned as my orgasm was drawn-out, my cum being pumped to who-knows-where.

	“Aww, you look so cute with those crumbs on your face,” he said, “Now, I hope you’re ready for dessert!”

	“What!?” I yelled, but the guards were already rolling out a large vat, with a long hose attached.