Chapter 7 - Exercise

After everything that happened, Jacobs dad became insistent on making him more active. He woke up his son early this morning, planing on making him so some exercises. "Jacob, it's time to get up." He raised his voice, as he shook his sons shoulder. The pig groaned as he rubbed his eyes, "What, why?" He shimmered himself until he was sitting up, and he leaned against his bedframe for support; He was out of breath from just that little movement.

"I got some exercises for you to do, now sit up." Matt crossed his arms, looking down at his son. Jacob didn't want to anger his father, so he did as he was told. He swung one leg over the bed, and then the other, but not without immense struggle. By the time he managed to stand up, he was wheezing.

"Now, get onto your back on the floor, I'm gonna start you off with 10 sit ups." Jacob's father looked at him with a stern face. "What? I can't do that." He scrunched his eyebrows. "Don't make me repeat my self, Jacob." Matt said, raising his voice, which was enough for his son to comply. It took a lot of maneuvering his body, but he managed to get on the floor. As he lay there, his gut spilled to the sides, along with his moobs. It felt like his belly was pinning him down, and all the fat piled on top of his lungs, making it hard to breath. Each breath his stomach rose, and it obstructed his view.

"Now, out your arms behind your head, and give me ten." Matt instructed, standing over his son.

Jacob slowly lifted his head, but the fat on his neck didn't let it go too high. So, he tried to lifted his shoulder blades of the ground. No matter how hard he tried, his budging belly wouldn't let him, sending him right back onto his back. Just from little effort, he was struggling to breathe. He laid back onto the floor, his arms and legs spread out like a starfish.

"Can't you give me even one sit up!?" His father looked down at him. "Are you even going to be able to get back up by yourself? You can't even give me one sit up. One!" He grunted. "Look how out of shape you are. Huffing and puffing like a pig, when you've barely moved!" He took a few steps back. "Get up off the floor. I won't be helping you."

With red cheeks, Jacob tried to get himself on his sid. His mountainous gullet swayed side to side as he tried to turn himself over. The floorboards underneath him creaked and groaned everytime he moved. Finally, he pushed himself over onto his side and his belly oozed out in front of him. Jacob layed there for a moment, his breaths labored. He managed to roll over again, until he was on his belly. The fat porker took his weak, flabby arms and tried to push himself up. They trembled while barely managing to support his weight. With one deep breath, he gets onto one leg, and the other, and then pushes onto his knee. He finally manages to stand up, but then he immediately has to sit on the edge of the bed.

"That was just pathetic, son. Took you a few minutes to get up off the ground. That would've taken me less than a second." He folded his arms. "Stand up." Matt said, "I want you to do some jumping jacks." Jacob looked at his father like he was crazy. "Jumping... Jack's?" He exclaimed. "But I can't even-"

"Enough! Do as I say. Now." He yelled.

Silently, Jacob stood up from the bend. He put his legs as close together as he could and braced himself. As he did the first jump while raising him arms, he felt the entire room shake as he landed. His body felt so heavy, and gravity was fighting to keep him down. His whole body rippled like waves from just that one movement, and his fat slanted together. It took every bit of energy in his body to jump again, and already he could feel his heart racing.

"Is that all you got fatty?" His father yelled. "Give me another one." And Jacob listened. He was only on his second jumping jack and he was completely beat. Beads of sweat started to form on his body, his breaths were short and labored, and his face had become red. He plopped onto his bed. "Dad... I.... Can't... I can't..." He couldn't finish his words, he was breathing so hard his throat started to hurt.

"You should be embarrassed. Absolutely winded from two whole jumping jack's. At this rate, you're going to become an immobile fat ass." His father stood there for a moment.

"Get up and follow me." Matt left Jacob's room and headed down the hallway. Jacob, who was extremely embarrassed at the moment, sat up and slowly waddled behind his dad.

He was met with the bathroom, and his dad pulling out the scale. The scale was a special one that Rowan bought when Jacob had maxed out the older one. This new one was wide enough for Jacob to comfortably spread out his legs, and it's max weight was 550 pounds. Matt sets it down on the floor, "Step on it." He ordered.

Jacob listened, and as he stepped on it, it made a few creaking noises. "Tell me, what does it say?"

Jacob looked down, but was met with his rotund gut. "I can't-"

"You can't see it, right? With that fat, protruding belly in the way. Right now you're just a big, fat, lazy pig. And I'm gonna make sure to get you back on track."



After a few more days of this, with Jacob's father trying various degrees of exercise, Matt had realized it wasn't working. His son hadn't lost a single thing, in fact he had gained 30 pounds. Because of all the exercises from Matt, despite Jacob and Rowans requests, Rowan had been upping his calorie intake more than ever before. When Matt was home all Jacob's meals were healthy, but as soon as he, she would fill Jacob's gut with as much food as she could make. She would add tons of extra butter, oil, weight gain powder, whatever fattening thing she could find and add it to his secret meals.

Matt sat Rowan down at the dining table one night, "I think my exercises aren't good enough for him." He started off. "Well, maybe he's just ment to be bigger. After all, if he's still gaining with my healthy meals and you keeping him active, theres not much we can do, right?" Rowan looked at him innocently. "No, it has to be because we're not trying hard enough. So... I was thinking, a long time ago you told me about that personal trainer friend of yours ,right? And how she was starting to do personal sessions? Does she still do that?"

"Yes... Actually... she does. Do you want me to book a session with her?" A smirk slowly appeared on her face, and an idea was popping into her head.

"Yes, if you don't mind, that would be great, babe." He sat up and kissed his wife on the cheek. "If you could take care of that for me, it would really help." He walked off to go work up on his office.

With the smirk still staying on her face, she dialed up her friend. "Hey girl... I got a nice, big, fat piggy who needs your help."