A Pay-What-You-Want commission for my pig-son  cleveartois93 featuring weight gain and hypnosis. Enjoy!



“The therapist will see you now, Mr. Moz.” The kindly receptionist said as she looked over at the only patient left in the waiting room. It was the end of the day and yet Jo was nervous. He had never been to a therapist before and he wasn’t sure how things were going to turn out. What was he supposed to say? What was he supposed to expect? The best he could have even hoped for was some sort of revelation, but there was no way to even realistically expect that he’d be walking out of there a new pig.

He hefted his skinny porcine self out of the wooden chair and walked to the third door on the right down the only hallway. He nervously fidgeted his hands as Jo tried his best to calm himself down, knowing that if he didn’t he might have a panic attack.. At least he was in the right place for one of those, he thought half-jokingly as he stopped at the door. Smoothing back his hair, the tuft he had neatly trimmed between his thick and large ears, he began to breathe through his nose and closed his eyes. Things were going to be different after this, that much he knew, but he had to hold onto his sanity long enough to get to it. Jo knocked on the door after a long pause, hoping that the therapist would be nice and open-minded to Jo’s goals.

“Come in.” The voice was gruff, dark, and deep. Jo immediately shivered from it. A voice like that belonged to a big bear, or a monster of some sort. Far bigger than Jo himself, whatever it was. And certainly not human, but another furry therapist was going to be okay, he told himself. Some men went to women therapists, some women went to men therapists, and some furries went to humans. It was more of a matter of insurance coverage than personal preference, but Jo was thankful his insurance had directed him at least to this voice and not some shrill harpy or aggressive type.

Jo turned the brass knob, almost as big as his hand,and heard the door unlock and swing open. Inside, behind a desk made of heavy cherry wood and cobbled together with mahogany fittings (an unusual twist from the normal kind of desk Jo had thought he’d seen when walking in) was a gigantic beast. Bear and tiger hybrid? That’s what it looked like. He was enjoying the last of a cigar; Jo didn’t understand how the beast could get away with smoking in an office like this, even if he was the boss. The beast stubbed out the cigar and gestured to a couch in the corner of the room directly to Jo’s right.

“Please, have a seat. Close the door, Mr. Moz. Let’s get to know one another.”

That voice was commanding and had Jo almost instantly obeying; it almost felt like Jo was hypnotized. Little did he know that that was exactly what the bear was infamous for, or that he had already cast his spell with that last sentence. Jo closed the door and sat at the thick and plush leather couch. He shifted his skinny frame onto the corner farthest away from the therapist and stared ahead, pushing up his glasses on his snout. He gave a slight snort of anxiety, but settled down immediately when he looked at the bear’s deep aqua blue eyes.

“Uhm, you’re Dr. Braxton?” Jo asked, his voice sounding far weaker and much more timid than he had anticipated it would come out. He gave his voice a grunt as if to clear it and added, “Dr. Berkley Braxton, right?”

“The one and only.” Berkley said as he nodded and pulled out a file with a single slip of paper in it. The paper, which Jo barely caught a glance at, was the one he’d filled out in the waiting room discussing why he was here. “Jo Moz, correct? Am I saying that right? Moz, as in mow-zee?”

“Just Moz… the Z doesn’t have an emphasis really.” Jo replied with a bland disinterest in his own name’s pronunciation.

“Well, Jo, what brings you in here today?” Berkley asked with a broad, feral looking grin. He cleared his throat and looked down at the file in his heavy paws. Jo realized that his paws were both as big individually as Jo’s entire head was, and by the definition of muscles in his upper body, what Jo could see anyways, it was obvious that Berkley was bigger and stronger thanhttps://most.Therewas no reason to see why he’d ever lose a fight, assuming he got into them. “I see in your file it says that you’re here because you need help with acceptance? What does that mean, exactly? Like… coming out of the closet acceptance?”

Jo shook his head and lowered his gaze to his svelte middle. The brown pig hated how he looked. He’d always wanted to be bigger, taller, fatter (as unhealthy as that sounded), and in some ways he wished he wasn’t such an anxious person, worrying over everything. He explained this to the doctor behind the desk, not looking at him. The lack of a belly he had, especially, was an issue he needed help accepting considering that he’d not been able to grow more than ten pounds in the last five years. His family always said that he was just lucky to have such a high metabolism and that he had to be crazy to want to get rid of it for, what they called at least, “a heart attack ball” attached to his middle. He kept talking, explaining everything to the doctor with as loose a tongue as he’d ever had, which surprised him and completely confused him. Berkley, for his part, listened in eagerly, writing a few things down on a new piece of paper in the noted file. After ten minutes or so, Jo fell silent, and it took Berkley until he finished writing to realize it.

He poked his head back up from the folder and the bear growled out in a slightly southern drawl, “Go on?”

“There’s nothing else to say… I want to be okay with who I am because I’m never going to be what I want to be, Dr. Braxton. My family won’t support me, my friends think I’m daydreaming too often, and even my boyfriend Timet hasn’t been able to help me any. We used to go out to eat three or four times a week, but then after a while we just… stopped,” Jo gave a deep sigh here and shook his head. “So I just want to learn to accept I am what I am. I’m a skinny piglet who has anxiety and dreams about being… well… a huge hog. Kind of stupid, I know-”

“Not at all!” Berkley interrupted Jo. He closed the file and looked straight at the pig, who somehow found his gaze returning to the bear’s, their eyes meeting from across the room as they stared at each other for a while. Jo felt himself beginning to relax, despite the anxiety and panic in the back of his mind growing into a tighter and tighter ball inside him.“You’d be surprised what kinds of clients I see. I help people find their inner self and learn to accept it.

“What do you mean?” Jo asked, slowly and as if in a trance. He had no idea how much of a trance he was already under as he stared unblinking at the bear.

“Put simply, I help you find your inner self; that is, your desires and talents and goals, and I help make them come true. We use all kinds of methods here at the office, but a lot of it is based out of a conversational technique I’ve perfected. I like to call it ‘meditative conversation’ because that’s basically what you’re doing, meditating on yourself and talking to me about it.” Berkley explained as he clasped his huge paws together on the desk, blinking very little as he talked. Jo was simply enraptured as the beast spoke. “One or two conversations is usually all we need to help you accept who you trulyhttps://are.Yousee, Jo, the thing about the outer self is that it can be changed. Sometimes we have trouble doing it, like gaining weight in your case, but other times we can do it all too easily, like cutting our hair. I bet you never have trouble cutting your hair, do you?” Berkley gave a hearty chuckle at this, which somehow elicited a similar guffaw from Jo’s own throat, to his surprise. “I didn’t think so. So what we do here is very simple.Don’t worry, we don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to discuss with me, and I implore that you don’t feel any pressure with talking to me because this will all work better if you just relax.”

That last word had a definitive and immediate effect on Jo’s body, and he felt like melted chocolate sitting in the sun too long. His body felt warm, he sank into the couch and laid on it. His eyes, heavy as they felt, were somehow still open, still locked on Berkley’s, and he had this nagging feeling in the back of his head that something was wrong. Something was happening, but he was suddenly mentally relaxed, and nothing could disturb that feeling, even the tight ball of anxiety in his head.

“Just relax. It’ll be really easy if you just relax.” Berkley said, repeating the word a few more times as he spoke. Jo didn’t seem to be able to focus anymore, the world outside of Berkley and himself melting away into what felt like a mix of colors and shapes, then into a blurry puddle. The world faded around him. As Jo found himself sinking lower into the couch, his eyes never once broke from the bear’s. “Good piggy. Good boy. Relax. Just let Papa Bear do all the hard work, boy.” The grin on Berk’s face, feral as it had seemed before, now felt inviting instead of menacing, warming instead of warning, and that deep gruff voice he felt unnerved by at first felt… natural to hear. He didn’t want Berkley to stop talking.

“I feel like a good piggy, Dr. Braxton…” Jo said sleepily as he slid all the way under the bear’s magic words. He had no idea what was going on anymore, but he knew he felt good, and he was okay with that.

“Call me Papa Bear, Jo. I’m your Papa Bear now. Just like Goldilocks and the three bears. I’m in charge now, and I’m going to help you find yourself until you’re ‘just right’ again.” Berkley loved using that analogy, it always brought a childish comfort to his patients, and right on cue Jo giggled at the simile as if he were being read a story before bedtime. “And I know what you want.”

“You do?” Jo sounded so far away from himself now, like he was shouting from a mile away, barely even sure he was speaking anymore. The words were in his head, for sure, but had they come out of his snout?

“Oh yes, piggy. I know what you want. You told me yourself.” The bear’s words echoed louder and louder until Jo couldn’t hear any other voice in his own head except for Berkley’s, “You want to be a huge hog, don’t you? Yeah, that’s what you want. Gorging himself on extra large pizzas all day long, chugging two liters of soda like they’re simple glasses of water. Eating, drinking, snacking, sampling, and chugging all day long. That’s what you want, piggy. Feeling yourself grow, grow, grow… so big that even I look small by comparison.”

A heated bulge poked against Jo’s tight pants, his knowledge of his pants feeling tight having not occurred to him until just now when he felt the tension in his bulge, thighs, and ass. How had he let himself talk himself into wearing skinny jeans to this meeting? He didn’t know. He felt his hands go down to his belly, flat and hardly with any give or jiggle to it at all, and Jo felt like he’d never reach what the bear was talking about. “But… but I can’t grow. I’m… too small.”

“Oh no you aren’t.” The bear growled, watching the magic work itself as he continued. He loved seeing them grow. He loved when they changed at his every word. It was a power he’d had since he was a kid, a power he’d used to help himself grow so big with some additional thanks to self-help hypnosis books for helping him disguise the power in some useful way. He pitied the pig, truly he did, because the pig was only as big as Berkley himself ever could have been without some sort of help.

“I’m… not?”

“Nope, you’re obsessively growing yourself, aren’t you? Did you not say you go out three or four times a day to eat with your boyfriend Timet?” Berkley asked. Had Jo said that? He didn’t remember anymore. The big tent in his pants felt somehow bigger than ever, and it didn’t help that his rear was digging deep into the couch. What he liked about this couch so much was how comfortable it felt, no matter how he moved (and he wasn’t moving an inch besides his growing hard-on). “Three or four times a day for the last several months, as I seem to remember you saying,” Berkley continued as Jo only grew more and more aroused, his clothes feeling oddly tighter in all areas of his body. He rubbed slowly over his soft middle, feeling nothing like what Berkley washttps://describing.Hewasn’t fat, not by a long shot, or was he going to change that now? That’s why he had come to Dr. Braxton, wasn’t it?

“Yeah… I’ve been trying but I haven’t put on enough weight… just… uhm… just some.” Jo was saying, feeling like he couldn’t think of the words. How much had he put on in the last few months? “My metabolism is…” his voice trailed as he got confused. Fast? Slow? Which was it?

“Oh, you know that’s not true Jo.” The bear’s voice overriding Jo’s own mental one, silencing his doubts, Berkley interjected without any complaints from the pig. “If I had to guess, I’d say your metabolism was slower than molasses. You could look at a stack of pancakes and gain a hundred pounds probably. Let’s face it, you’re not some skinny piglet here to lose weight. You don’t want to be okay being skinny, do you?”

“N- No sir.” Where had the sir come from? Why was he talking so obediently? Why was it so hard to think anything other than what Berkley was saying?

“You didn’t want to be a skinny piglet when you walked in here, and you won’t be when you leave either. But that’s not all you wanted was it?” Berkley asked knowingly, his grin still there, just like his unblinking eyes. Jo couldn’t stop looking at either. It felt… difficult? Somehow, it felt like Berkley’s face was… obscured? Perhaps he was just imagining the whole thing, perhaps he really was hypnotized, but at this point, it didn’t matter.

“No sir.” He said with more conviction this time. His tented bulge was the smallest concern in terms of tightness now. His jeans felt like he’d crammed too much sausage into their denim casing, and his green and orange striped polo felt like it had literally grown out of the thick pigskin it tried to cover. His belly felt cold around much of the lower half, and his breathing sounded heavier and ragged, as if his neck and throat had grown tighter and yet somehow thicker. There was a strange clicking noise whenever he finished his inhale but just before the exhale, like his body had suddenly had to adjust to even that little movement mechanically. And yet… he couldn’t move. Couldn’t say anything besides those two words. It was so much easier to let Berkley do the talking.

“You wanted to get rid of your anxiety too, didn’t you? Accepting yourself for who you are? That’s what you wanted too.” The bear’s voice sounded rough, dark, and deep, “You wanted to be big, and now that you are, you’re going to accept it. You’re accepting that your family mock your weight, that Timet plays with it constantly. You can’t stop playing with it either, can you? Feels good to hold your fat in those thick, meaty trotter-hands of yours. Feels good whenever you burst free of your clothes. You don’t like to shower because of how tight it is in the shower now. You don’t bother staying clean when you eat either. You’re a real hog, you’ll eat in a mud pit if a hot dog falls into it, won’t you?” He felt his cheeks burning with heat as he blushed to Berkley’s words, and Jo nodded slowly. “You’re a pig, after all. You don’t let things like cleanliness and society determine how you live your life. You live like a pig, and that’s what you are. Any more like a pig and you’d be a feral, wouldn’t you? An immobile blob, sure, but a feral, immobile blob. You love it that way, don’t you?”

Once again, Jo nodded. He was so content, so relaxed, why would he ever get up out of this couch?

“Let’s not forget, you’re not just some slobby hog. You’re obese to the point that you could have a heart attack at any moment from exercise. That’s why you’re so sedentary. You know what that word means now?” Jo shook his head. His relaxed state of mind had somehow masked his loss of intelligence. He gave an unhindered snort, feral in nature, and oinked from pleasure. “That’s right. You don’t like big words. You don’t like going outside to walk around. You don’t like thinking. That’s why you let Timet and Papa Bear do all that stuff for you. Timet serves you food, you eat it and demand more, and he brings it. All too eagerly, I might add. And Papa Bear… well he thinks for you so you don’t have to think. You want to hear what Papa Bear thinks now?”

There was a deep silence in the room before Jo, in his final fit of anxiety, gave in. Did he want this? Did he really want to be what Berkley was assuming Jo wanted? What if he wanted to go back? What if he wanted to get up right now and leave? Could he? Would he? Eventually, Jo nodded, much to Berkley’s joy, and said softly, “Yes sir.”

“Papa Bear thinks you need to wake up, piggy. Your time is up here, and we’ve made a lot of progress today. But you need to scurry on home to your boyfriend, relax with him, and have a good couple of dinners. We can speak again tomorrow.” That formal tone that all doctors had seemed to somehow return without Jo realizing it had left at all. “How does noon sound for you? Or is that too early for you?”

“I don’t get up before four in the afternoon.” Jo snorted as he blinked finally. He struggled to sit up, even though he didn’t realize the reason why was his own gigantic weight. Standing up, Jo stretched and yawned, feeling like he’d been asleep for what felt like hours. The world in his eyes hadn’t changed. Berkley was still sitting at the desk. The cherry and mahogany desk was still the same. Everything felt the same. He patted his thick middle, rotund and soft, sagging over his still-hard cock, while his moobs devoured part of his polo. He tugged on the shirt, knowing that he was only doing so because he was in a formal place, and snorted as he realized it barely even reached to his belly button, which was sagging over where the jeans buttoned together, before giving up with an oink. The five hundred pound porker, now six-six in height, barely fit in the clothes that he’d put on today, but that was not unusual for him. He was used to some pigskin showing whenever he put on a shirt. What he was thankful for was that the jeans he was wearing hugged his bubble butt with such perfection that even though his tented bulge made the waistline hurt incredibly, he didn’t want to unbutton the jeans for fear his ass would be hidden even slightly by the increased space. “What about then?”

“Five is all I got for tomorrow that late. That’s my last appointment for the day, Mr. Moz.” The bear said as he wrote on a card and handed it to the obese porker. The hog snorted and took it with a grateful nod. A nod which jiggled his neck and chubby cheeks in such a way that he felt the ripple move down his back and moobs and gut all at once and into his thick, thunderous thighs.

“Five’s fine with me. I don’t mind. By the way,” he asked as he pocketed the card into his ultra-tight jeans pocket. He’d probably never be able to get it back out until the jeans were off tonight. “Do you know of any good barbecue places around here?”

Berkley chuckled at the joke, assuming it was one, and nodded, “Sure, there’s a Korean barbecue place just three blocks south of here on Fielding. You need me to give you directions?”
“Nah, thanks Papa Bear.” Jo said, not the least bit concerned he’d said those two words to a bear he’d just met only today. “I’m glad that we had such a good session. I feel like a weight’s been lifted off my shoulders entirely!”

“You’re welcome. And tomorrow, we’ll talk more about your family and boyfriend. I want to make sure that they aren’t causing any undue stress on your heavy self.” He knew what he wanted to do tomorrow. After all, he was being called Papa Bear by Jo already. Berkley gave a deep grin, nodding to the hefty hog, and grabbed a cigar from the humidor on the table. He always smoked after a good session; it helped him relax his own throbbing erection (which he had to save until he got home, he kept reminding himself). Jo watched him do this and nodded. “Good piggy. Now run along.”

“I don’t think I’ll be running any time soon, thank you.” came the familiar tone between two friends sharing an inside joke. Jo waved, shaking his whole body to do so, and grinned as he turned to head out of the office. His life was going to be much better now, and he knew that it was all thanks to Berkley. He’d never felt this good about himself, but now… now he felt perfectly freed of his own expectations.

Jo pulled out his cell phone from his shirt pocket, the only pocket it could be easily reached into and pulled out, and dialed Timet with his thick fingers, grumbling at how small the phone was. He knew he should get a new one, but he was just too dumb to understand it when salesmen tried to pitch him any. The phone rang twice before Timet picked up. “Hey hun, how was therapy?”

The pig rubbed his corpulent middle, loving the hearty smack and the way his whole gut jiggled to each pat. “It was great. I feel like a new hog.”

“That’s great piggy!” Timet’s voice sounded genuinely excited, “Did he help you come to terms with your body image any?”

Jo replied with a smirk, feeling his erection bulging below and beneath his sagging, heavy belly, “I’ll show you when I get home. He’s left a really big impact on me.”