It was almost too good to be true, you thought. You won an all-expense-paid vacation to New Guinea, which is a huge deal for you as an under-paid grad student. At first, it seemed like heaven on earth: all the sun, relaxation, and free food you could want. Oh sure, you did want to watch your weight after you had gotten chubby with all the non-stop studying, but this was vacation. Time to live a little, you said. That was all well and good, until the next thing you knew, something tasted funny in your drink.
Now, you've woken up in a locked shed, with no idea how you got there. You find several tribal people standing around you, examining your naked body. Wait, when did that happen? The man who looks like the chief now notices that you're awake. He is a burly man, one you know you can't fight on your own, and besides, he's surrounded by some tough looking warriors. The chief smiles as he pokes and prods at your sides. "Hmm," he says, "not bad, but not good either. I don't know if we'll get this one as big as last year's."
You're a little surprised that he can speak English, but something else is concerning you. "Who are you?" you ask. "What's going on?"
The chief laughs a big hearty laugh. "Who we are is of no concern to you, pig. But I will tell you what is going to happen. We have selected you, you delicious morsel to be our next meal at next year's feast to our great goddess."
"Meal?!" you gasp. "Oh please don't! I'll give you anything."
One of the warriors hits you across the back. "Pig no longer talks," the chief says, displeased with being interrupted. "In one year's time, you will be killed and eaten, just like all the others before you. We are still enjoying leftovers from last night's feast." He chuckles with that thought. "In the meantime, you need to be properly 'prepared.' And don't get any ideas of running away. We will catch you."
They leave, and all you can do is sob in your bed. It is several hours later before the door is opened once more. A much smaller, and kinder looking man enters, bringing a basket full of warm food. That basket seems like an awful lot for one person, you think, and suddenly it dawns on you how you are to be "prepared." "It is time for you to eat," the young man says.
"I will not!" you shout, determined not to go out without a fight.
"I wouldn't recommend that," he says. "You would not like the other way we fatten our sacred feast. Now, eat."
He sits beside you on the edge of your bed, holding out some of the warm food. You don't know what it is, but it looks good, and your stomach is growling. You reluctantly take it. "That's a good pig," he says, stroking your hair.
"Don't do that!" you say between bites.
"Pigs shouldn't talk," he says, meekly.
"I'll do whatever I damn well please. I may just walk around this hut all day, just to keep from gaining weight."
He shakes his head. "Not a good idea. You're not the first whose tried that. We strap them to the bed. Please, just eat of your own will. It makes it easier for me."
You're taken aback. "Easy for you? Oh, I'm so sorry for trying to inconvenience your precious job, you wretched, savage..."
He looks down, clearly hurt. "I just do not like to see them suffer," he says, tears forming in his eyes. "I do not like what I have to do, but please do not put me in a situation where I have to watch you suffer. You really are such a beautiful one."
You can't help but blush, even with the circumstances. You continue to eat quietly. As you finish the first dish, he offers you the next. It's pretty clear he intends to feed you the whole basket full, but you're not even sure you'll get through that before you feel like you're going to burst. Sure enough, about three quarters of the way through, your stomach feels tight, and you can't possibly eat anymore. He is sympathetic to your plight. "Here, lie down."
He begins to rub your overstuffed belly, until it feels like you have more room all of a sudden. It's actually kind of arousing. Wait, you have to not think like that! They're your captors. There's nothing good about them. But, he seems nice, and the belly rub is so comfortable. Maybe you can convince him to let you go. He finally forces you to finish off the basket and leaves, and you're in a food-induced coma, sleeping it off.
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