My Gloucestershire Old Spot

On a few very rare occasions I allow my loyal cash piggies to take me shopping. Most are faceless wallets that strive to make my life even sweeter through their hard work and devotion, but a select few actually spark a greater interest in me. Here is a little glimpse of a day out with one of my favourite porcine piggies, I call him My Gloucestershire Old Spot.

He sat waiting at my favourite cafe on Piccadilly, at our usual balcony seat, having already ordered my breakfast. I caught his eye the minute I walked through the door, he knew I’d be looking to ensure he’d followed my strict orders… and would be walking right back out again if he hadn’t. But on this occasion I continued across the marbled floor and up the steps, dropping my gaze and smiling contentedly. He pulled out my chair and I sat down to breakfast with a man who was looking extremely proud of himself. “Don’t look too content my fat friend”, I said “The day has only just begun”.

Over breakfast he entertained me with news of his latest venture and how he intended to make more of the money that he so enjoyed spending on me. I beckoned him to hand me his cup of espresso, deposited a long globule of spit into it and told him to drink up, I was ready to leave. He looked around cautiously to see if anyone had seen, I put a stern finger on his cheek and directed his gaze back to me, “Keep looking around little piggy and I’ll set you free. I’ll leave you to the devices of all those other She Wolves”. He knew my threat was not empty and I knew that he’d searched for years for someone like me. “Apologies Governess”, he said before finishing his coffee in two large uncomfortable gulps. His face was a picture of sheer distress… it turned me on immensely.

Old Spot pulled out my chair, fetched my coat, opened the cafe doors and stood by the roadside attempting to hail a black cab, all of the things that he was used to having other people do for him. From the beginning I made it clear that his tributes would be given alongside other forms of servitude that I saw fit. He’d been on the curb for over five minutes when the doorman finally ran out to help him, after watching his embarrassing and futile attempts. I shook my head and giggled. When we were in the cab I leant over and slapped his face. I was not impressed by his failure and felt the need to remind him that no matter how menial and insignificant the task I set, I expect it to be done to perfection.

In the store I made him walk behind me until summoned, I was sick of seeing his face. He was occasionally allowed to fetch and carry items that I wished to try on, speak to the sales assistant to ask for sizes and enquire about the arrival of latest collections. They all offered to take the load off his hands and to the fitting room for him, but he looked at me and I just shook my head. When I was finished choosing what I wanted to try on I allowed him to give the clothes to the sales assistant. I told him to sit outside and play a little game that I’d arranged while I changed. When I emerged 15 minutes later I found him engrossed in trying to solve the dual problem I’d given him; a Sudoku game for him to complete, with a certain amount of money owed for each square that remained empty.

“Only half done I see”, I said as I dumped the clothes I wanted on his lap and patted my leather clad thigh for him to follow. Once he’d finished up his business at the till we headed downstairs. It was raining outside so I took his umbrella and waited in the shade while he went onto the street to hail a cab. He did a much better job of it this time, it’s amazing what a little bit of training can achieve, or of course it could have been his desperation to get out of the driving rain. “Go sit over there, on that hard seat behind the driver. You look like a drowned rat!” I said as he moved to sit down beside me. I never allow a submissive to get too comfortable, that’s MY job. I put my legs up and rested my boots on his fat stomach, feeling it jiggle beneath them with every bump, as we travelled to the next store.

Gloucestershire Old Spots Excerpt from Wikipedia

The Gloucestershire Old Spot is an English breed of pig which is predominantly white with black spots. It is known for its docility, intelligence, and profligacy. The breed’s maternal skills enable it to raise large litters of piglets on pasture. Its disposition and self‑sufficiency should make it attractive for farmers raising pasture pigs and those who want to add pigs to diversified operations.

  • Ears: Short, thick and elevated.
  • Coat: A rose disqualifies. A line of mane bristles is objectionable. Sandy colour may disqualify.
  • Skin: Serious wrinkles. Blue undertone not associated with a spot.
  • Legs: Straight.
  • Neck: Heavy jowl objectionable.
  • Hams: Large and well filled to the hocks.