Piggies should be Pink and Squealy by LimitlessLucy
***When Pamela meets a ‘pig lover’ at a local restaurant, he makes her strip off in the bathroom and crudely graffiti herself as the pain piggy she wants to be. He then takes her back to his house where her tits get a painful working over in pissy mud of her own making. And then she cums from it…***
Pamela got out of her car and smoothed her hands down the sides of her skirt. The cut of her clothing accentuated her curves — the designer really understood the fuller-figured woman.
She checked her makeup and squirmed slightly. On the man’s instructions her mascara was not waterproof. She knew that by the end of the evening her makeup would be streaked down her face and all pretense that she was anything but a piggy would be gone. He would make sure of it.
A thrill ran through her – she was really about to do this! She was about to do in person what she had been trying out in private for years.
She had met the man through a site for ownerless piggies who needed to be put in their place. The site held a fully identifiable picture of her to ransom each month she chose to be active. Each day pig-lovers would send her tasks, from which she had to choose one to complete. Failure would result in a portion of the picture being revealed. This was a great deterrent which ensured that, however humiliating the task she chose, she somehow found a way to succeed in it.
This man’s tasks had been different to her other requests. For him it wasn’t enough to humiliate her, he wanted to make her suffer. She loved the way that such use and abuse made her feel even more like a piggy. Even so, the prospect of meeting someone who had once made her put her head in a used toilet, spread her ass and then use her anus like a mouth to beg him to hurt her made her slightly question her sanity.
As she walked toward the restaurant someone walked up behind her and gave her bottom a firm squeeze through her fancy skirt. “This primped-up piggy is getting ideas above her station. I’ll soon set that right.”
She gasped and turned to see a slightly older man smirking at her.
“How did you-?”
“I’d recognize the smell of piggy pleasure anywhere. I love that you wanted to meet somewhere so…” he glanced toward the crowded restaurant “…public. You really want to be humiliated tonight, don’t you?” He groped her tits. His hands were possessive – like he owned her already.
Self-conscious that they might be seen, she tried to push him off. His boldness was arousing, yet she now feared it a little – after all, this really was a public restaurant that they were standing right outside of!
He slipped his hands down her top and pinched her nipples firmly. “You don’t want to get me in trouble for groping you – do you?” He flicked his wrists, twisting her nipples wickedly.
She tipped her head back and moaned, her body instantly responding to his firm command.
He pulled his hands out of her top and opened the door to the restaurant. “Good piggy.”
She was nervous that he might grope her more publicly, but now that they were inside the busy restaurant, he seemed the perfect gentleman.
They sat down at a secluded booth and she picked up her menu, grateful to have something to hide her blushing face behind.
He pushed it down. “No, piggy. You’ll eat whatever swill I think they should serve you.”
Pamela squirmed in her seat but nodded. She hadn’t expected him to jump straight into their play, but she liked it. It felt very different to be dominated in person – far more intense. Especially as, unlike when she had been tasked by him remotely, she now had no clue about what was going to happen next.
The waiter set a full jug of iced water on the table and two glasses. The man grinned and pushed it toward her. “This is all for you. Every. Last. Drop.”
Pamela blushed. She had suspected that the night would involve piss play, but she hadn’t expected that it would involve her own bladder. It felt even more embarrassing that he planned to use her own urine to humiliate her.
She giggled nervously and glanced up at the waiter as she poured herself her first glass, hoping that the waiter didn’t pick up on the significance of the man’s words.
The waiter picked up another jug and topped up the water jug without a word before moving to greet another table.
Her Master smirked. “Every. Last. Drop. Or else.”
She bit her lip and nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
He smiled, clearly pleased that his commands were already triggering her submissive reactions.
She picked up her glass and nervously sipped at it as he perused the menu for her. Her mouth felt dry with nerves so she downed the first glass with relative ease. She poured herself a second glass, her hands shaking slightly.
The man smiled. “That’s right. I want that bladder of yours full to bursting. I’m gonna show you what a filthy little piggy you really are.”
The woman bit back a needy moan. The man’s words aroused her. She drank a few more sips of her icy water. The coldness didn’t even come close to lessening the blush in her cheeks.
The man grabbed the waiter’s attention and she hastily hid the water jug, hoping to deter him from refilling it. He instead topped up her water glass. She looked up at him, trying to read his face, but he was inscrutable. Did he know what the man had planned for her this evening? And that the more water he gave her, the more she would have to drink?
The man she had come with glanced down at his menu. “I’d like a medium rare steak, and bangers and mash for my little piggy. But can you blend it up for her? She does better on foods that don’t require utensils.”
Pamela’s eyes went wide and she turned away from the waiter in embarrassment, preoccupying herself with her phone as though it were suddenly the most important thing.
Her face was bright red, but she couldn’t help but squirm in excited mortification. She’d just been outed as a piggy. It felt so thrillingly naughty.
The waiter glanced down at her as he nodded. “I’ll talk to the chef and see what we can do.” He collected the menus back up. “We usually serve puréed food in a bowl, though – would that be okay?”
The man nodded. “That sounds very appropriate.”
The waiter gave her a sideways glance and left. Pamela punched the man’s arm across the table. “Hey! You can’t play so blatantly here! It’s right by where I work!”
The man smiled and settled back in his chair. “You chose the location.” He grinned. “And I believe you’ll find I can do anything I want to you…” He leaned forward, his eyes glinting wickedly. “…Anything.”
The woman squirmed. While this was the reaction she had fantasized he would give, she felt a lot more nervous now he was sitting across from her. On the plus side, her embarrassment was making it surprisingly easy to drink lots of water – she had already almost finished her second glass.
She fiddled with her carefully styled hair. “Mm, I like that!” She nibbled at her finger. “But, well, now that we’re really doing this I feel a little shy!”
The man smiled and leaned forward. “I do love a bright pink piggy.” He handed her a black permanent marker. “I want you to go into one of the cubicles in the bathroom, strip off, and cover your body with the most humiliating labels you can think of. Use big, bold letters.”
The woman stared at the Sharpie for several seconds. She knew that whatever she wrote on her body would last for several days, branding her as the pig slut she was.
He pressed the pen into her hand. “Then sit down on the toilet, spread your legs, shove three finger up your cunt and take a picture. Don’t use the bathroom, though – you’ll need a nice, full bladder for later.”
Blushing, Pamela tucked the pen into her handbag and hurried through to the bathroom.
The cubicles were not very private — the doors had narrow cracks around them and a large gap at the bottom. Fortunately, the bathroom was empty.
She hurried into a cubicle and stripped herself out of her outfit. She bundled up her clothing and balanced it on top of her handbag. Her panties fell down onto the dirty floor. She looked down at them with a slight gasp. She was going to quickly pick them up, but stopped as a thrill went through her. If the man was here he would make her leave them there where anyone might see. He would then make her put them on again afterward. She shivered at the arousing thought.
She took a deep breath and then pushed the rest of her clothing onto the floor. She then put her feet on them and wiped them around. Although she was grateful to now have a clean, warm place to put her feet, she knew that she would soon be putting the panties on again. The panties which were at the very bottom of the pile, crotch down. It felt filthy, and she loved it.
She kicked the clothing out from under her bare feet and put them down on the cold floor. She felt a thrill run through her. She was naked. Naked next to a room full of customers.
Pulling the pen out of her bag she tugged the cap off and brought the tip toward her flesh. She hesitated for a second before writing ‘Stupid Pig’ from one shoulder to the other. The words only just missed her neck. She knew there was a chance that the words would be seen if she lent forward at work the next day, yet the risk of being caught excited her.
She moved the pen lower and wrote ‘Cum Dumpster’ over her flabby tummy. She moved it a little lower and wrote ‘Useless Whore’ over her freshly shaven crotch.
She hefted up her left tit and wrote ‘Tit Torture Toy’ down it, making the ‘o’ of ‘toy’ circle her dark areola. She switched hands and more awkwardly wrote ‘Filthy Slut’ over her right tit.
She glanced down at her marked body and squirmed. She was really doing this! She sat on the toilet and spread her legs as wide as they would go and shoved her fingers up her cunt. It swallowed them up eagerly.
She held the camera as far back as she could, struggling to get her whole body in. She snapped a photo and sent it to the man, giving herself no time to back out.
Her breathing quickened as she stared at the wanton image while waiting for his response. The photo wasn’t flattering at all – unlike the clothing she had worn – but the fact that she was only sharing the image because she had been told to made his domination feel much more real. It excited her to show him a photo she’d prefer to delete, and to know that once it was sent, she could never get it back. She wanted to lose control of the image – wanted it to be out there, humiliating her.