scoffs the butcher

 

scoffs the butcher

I already reported my first experience with Pigplay in My Weekend in the Shack.

Despite being force-fed by the butcher this weekend, he didn't give up, even though he couldn't eat the weight required for the mock slaughter.

 

I am still in email contact with the butcher and have signed up for a premium finishing pig for next weekend.

 

This time I wanted to make sure I weighed enough on the scale before I started my role as a butcher!

After spending the weekend in the slave barn, the butcher continued to feed me during the next training session.

 

We were given a specific meal plan and had to check our daily weight and record our current weight on the scale.

 

I emailed this to my butcher and each time he complimented me, I felt proud that I met his nutritional criteria for good fat varieties.

 

So I had enough of the fake slaughterhouse over the weekend.

 

The new students were nervous and I could see the fear in their eyes.

 

Now that I know a little about it and what to expect from beginners when it comes to force feeding, my nervousness has been reduced to a new kind of anxious anticipation.

In addition to me, there were two fattened pigs and we prepared to play the role of slaughtering pigs while the three of us were led into a separate clean room.

 

It was cold here.

 

Both floors and walls are finished with soft green tiles.

 

In the center was a sort of stone trestle and if you looked closely there were steel rings at the corners that were embedded in the concrete to keep them from breaking.

 

Suddenly I realized that this was a slaughterhouse in a pig slaughtering RPG.

 

I swallowed.

 

Various chains, knives of various shapes, various plastic aprons and various canes are hung in turn on the wall.

 

Butcher hooks hang from the ceiling and are usually used to hang pigs after slaughter.

 

I had to swallow again.

 

I felt uncomfortable.

 

Not only did I prepare a Slaughter RPG full of food, but I also read stories about pets and their owners and the importance of Slaughter in gaming.

 

Now I didn't know if what awaited me here was what I thought.

An apprentice butcher wearing a plastic apron around his neck and rubber gloves pushed us forward.

 

I reached the iron gate that he opened.

 

He opened the door and told us to go inside and take off our clothes.

 

Our three pigs cautiously entered the room.

 

It was a shower room with several stalls and a large bowl at the top of the room.

 

We obediently undressed and stood naked, side by side, examining our stomachs, and I felt strangely exposed.

 

After what seemed like an eternity, the butcher entered.

 

He looked neat, wearing white work clothes and a green apron in front of him.

 

He also wore green rubber gloves and a green scarf.

 

He smiled.

 

He slowly moved away from us one by one, turning towards us and looking at us very carefully.

 

He grabbed her hips and stomach.

He even put his hand between my legs and I was shocked at the same time.

 

Then he seated us in a large group, one by one, at the end of the hall.

 

He wrote down every gram in a book, but never said anything about our weight.

 

At the end he told us to take turns in the shower and that he would take care of us all.

 

I was the last in line.

 

So I could hear the sound of running water and the sound of water splashing in my neighbor's house.

 

I could hear the fat pigs in the neighborhood squealing and squealing, and I was delighted when the cabin door opened.

 

"We've known each other for a long time, fat pig." The butcher hit me on the bottom with a short stick and said: I trembled.

 

"You are making great progress." He nodded and patted my stomach.

 

"Force feeding works!"

"A fat pig like you makes a delicious steak!" - He shouted and laughed, and I blushed.

 

Then she took a carrot brush out of her apron pocket and began to wash me as the jet of water hit my skin.

"I like clean pigs, so we'll give them a good clean," he said, opening the door and letting in an assistant butcher who was also holding a brush.

 

Now both girls were rubbing against me and I was enjoying their thorough work on my oily folds.

 

The butcher didn't notice my excitement but said nothing.

 

When they were done, they pushed me out of the way and chased me across the yard and into the box with the first stick.

There, the butcher pours food onto trays for the next meal and shouts, "Food!" He went outside and ordered the lights out, except for the small lamp by the pig door.

 

I was alone.

 

I felt rubber-gloved hands covering my body, and now I was alone, frozen, with nothing but straw on the barn floor.

 

Out of frustration, I followed the order and ate again.

 

Then I quickly fell asleep.

 

The next day I was taken out into the garden with the others and forced to run around the pig hunting area, allowed to eat as much as I wanted and swept and weighed again before going to bed.

 

This time, the butcher's little but mighty assistant did it all by himself.

 

His muscular arms told her he was strong and he held her several times during the operation.

 

I did not see the butcher in person that day.

 

But the next morning he was in my playground, probably watching me while I slept.

 

When I woke up, I was startled to see him standing there.

 

“Good morning my fat pig, today is your big day.

 

"Today you will be killed!" He said and I could only nod.

 

"Are you ready for some pig butchering roleplay?" he asked and when I nodded again he said:

"Good.

 

The last meal has arrived.

 

Rejoice!''

The butcher's helper came in and brought out a rich breakfast on a large tray.

 

There were many rolls, cheese, jam, muesli, all kinds of fruit and of course eggs.

 

I enjoyed the nutritious breakfast, but at the same time I felt nauseous because I didn't know what to expect.

 

After breakfast we had to rest, and around noon the butcher returned.

 

He took a pig mask and put it on me.

 

Then he tied leather straps around my wrists and ankles and came out with metal rings.

 

He removed the straps from my wrists and dragged me to the slaughterhouse.

The butcher was waiting there.

 

Rubber boots, white rubber apron, rubber gloves.

 

He didn't wear any other clothes! I was so excited, excited, excited to see this scene.

 

She was standing at the end of the butcher shop, next to which was a rolling table with several knives, a steel vibrator and a chain attached to it.

 

He calmly pointed to the slaughterhouse and I obediently lay there.

 

The butcher's assistant left the room.

 

The naked butcher had large breasts protruding from both sides of his apron and I could hardly look at him as he slowly tied me to the four corners of the butcher shop.

 

He didn't move and took me to the slaughterhouse.

 

The person then touched my fat body and praised me for eating well, then pointed a cold weapon at me and said he would make me good meat using his spit.

 

My stomach was so big I couldn't see it all the time, but my heart jumped as soon as I saw the handsome butcher.

 

My Slaughter RPG had started and I was ready for anything.

 

He explained what he was going to do with my steak after he had pounded, ground and butchered it, and licked his lips until I was almost mad.

 

He then moved the blade towards me and gently touched me with the knife, explaining which part of my flesh would be best to use when cutting me.

 

I felt warm liquid flowing through the folds of my body.

 

.

 

I was out of gas.

 

As I eagerly awaited the climax of the mock slaughter, holding the largest knife to my throat and whispering to me to shut up, the beautiful butcher donned rubber gloves and went about her business.

 

I screamed and screamed and the sound echoed through the sterile slaughterhouse and I thought I was going to die.

 

Because it was the biggest orgasm I've ever had and it lasted forever.

 

When I regained my composure and emerged from my excited trance into the real world, my butcher was gone.

 

I was lying alone in the slaughterhouse, covered in red liquid.

 

I was scared.

 

But when the butcher's assistant came in, he smiled and said, “Go wash it.

 

It's just a paint job,” and that's when I realized it was a game of pig between the pet and the owner.

 

But it's beautiful!