Piglets - Alternate Ending

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Piglets on DeviantArt

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It had been months since she had given birth. Cona dozed off in the mud bath she’d had built into her patio behind her house. It was large, and deep, and perfect for her. She was slumped against a wall, submerged to her chin, just enjoying the way the mud cooled her flushed skin.

Suddenly there were some snorts and cries coming from the house. Cona opened her eyes.

They were awake.

Reluctant as she was to do so, she slowly got herself up, and carefully eased herself out of the mud bath and climbed onto the patio on all fours – well on as many fours as her body would allow. Her belly pressed against the hard wood.

The mass was bloated and round, and covered in several inches of fat, in fact, such a thick layer, that she couldn’t say her position on the ground was uncomfortable. The mound was beachball-sized and getting bigger every day. The rest of her body had taken on some weight as well. Her hips were round and soft, thighs plump and squishing together, her bottom round and protruding considerably behind her. Her face was fuller, pinker, cheeks plumper, and she had developed a double chin that Sammy claimed was “cute” but really just unnerved Cona. Three pairs of honeydew-sized breasts were stacked atop Cona’s belly, though there was hardly any room for them. They were perched against each other, plump soft teardrop-shapes that they were, topped off by her swollen areola and massive, seeping nipples.

Cona paused in her spot against the patio, taking several moments to catch her breath. Her body heaved and wobbled, nipples wiggling and releasing arbitrary spurts. Cona held her belly as it squirmed. She hoped it didn’t act up too much today.

Though she was still panting, Cona managed to climb up to her feet, her small body feeling the strain of her many mounds. Holding what she could, she waddled into the house. Above her bottom, a coily pink pig’s tail protruded, wiggling behind her. She had noticed it a few weeks ago. And something strange was going on with her ears. They seemed to be getting smaller, flatter, and less defined, as though retracting into her skull. Meanwhile, she had discovered two lumps developing atop her head. She feared she knew what was happening there.

Things were getting bad. So bad. Cona grabbed a towel and wiped as much of the mud off her as she could. She then pulled on a long white formfitting gown that she zipped up the front. It was thin and transparent, and had to stretch over her girth, but it sort of helped all her mounds from wiggling about too relentlessly.

Cona was finally ready to check in on the babies, but her knees trembled, and she knew she had to sit down. She eased herself down at the kitchen table, releasing a sigh of relief as her weight was lifted from her spine. Instead, her belly settled heavily against her lap, and her breasts atop her belly. Cona spread her legs, hoping to shift into a slightly more comfortable position.

Her belly visibly lurched. “Ohhhh…” Cona moaned as the whole mound started moving, like the baby wanted to break away from her. Breasts heaving, she rubbed the mass of her abdomen with both hands. The baby was getting so big. It seemed like she had to eat more and more every day to accommodate its relentless hunger. Her belly twisted again, her belly button pushing outwards, causing Cona to redden and groan. As it slowly returned to its pervious tangerine-size, she gasped and rubbed. “Baby…oh sweety…ahhh…settle down…” But her belly continued to shift and roll in her lap, the baby more active than ever. Finally, her abdomen relaxed, and Cona panted. Six blotches of wetness formed on her gown.

A key turned in the lock, and Cona looked up as Sammy walked in, her arms loaded with grocery bags. She walked over and lowered them to the kitchen table. Sammy came by just about every day to check in on Cona and bring her food. “How’s the little one doing?” said Sammy cheerily looking at Cona’s belly.

Cona continued to gasp for breath. “Not so little anymore.”

“Oh, right,” said Sammy, smiling not-so-apologetically. She pulled a stethoscope out of her purse and began to press it along Cona’s abdomen. Cona just hoped this wouldn’t trigger another episode of movement.

“It’s getting strong,” said Cona uncertainly. “Sometimes I swear it wants to tear out of me.”

Sammy continued the exam. “It needs more of a cushion,” she said, as she pressed her fingers into the inches of fat that lined Cona’s abdomen. “You need to take in more calories.”

“I’m not sure that’s possible,” Cona groaned.

Sammy looked up at her.

“And that’s only a temporary solution,” Cona added.

“You’re not willing to go public with it. So it’s the best I’ve got. In a few months, I’ll have my surgical certification, but until then, I wouldn’t be comfortable with…”

Cona shook her head as Sammy went on. Instead of listening, she began to dig through the grocery bags, and dejectedly stuff her face with cookies, cheeses, pastries, and syrups, not a drop of it escaping her lips.

Sammy just observed. Cona didn’t even seem aware of the snorting sounds she was making. Sammy also noted that Cona was starting to develop the beginnings of pig-ears atop her head. In addition to that, Cona’s nose seemed flatter than usual. Maybe wider too. How far would this transformation go?

Once Cona had finished the contents of all five bags of food, she was uncomfortable and drowsy, her skin flushed even pinker than it already was. Her belly visibly lurched, and Cona released a belch, clutching the mass. Sammy could see the baby rolling and squirming inside of her. Every so often, Cona’s belly button would push out.

Sammy helped Cona to the room she shared with her infants, then to the bed. It was a collection of mattresses, pillows, and blankets on the ground, contained in a pen to keep the piglet-babies from getting out.

The infants followed Cona’s every move as she was eased down. Cona curled onto her side and the infants were quick in their assaults on her breasts, digging into her gown until the zipper slid down. All twelve fought for her breasts, snorting and sucking greedily, Cona’s body tensing every so often when one of them nibbled too hard, or when their sibling inside her gave a powerful squirm. She groaned and mumbled indecipherably.

But eventually, Cona dozed off, even as she nursed.

Sammy stood back and just marveled at her. The experiment had gone better than she ever could have imagined. Reaching to her purse, Sammy pulled out a camera. This was going to make her career.

The End