chapter eight

Katsuo watched his little fat-ass sleep, eyes devouring the soft, bloated gut he'd created. He had gotten Jordan drunk again- it was easier than before now. The boy was absolutely miserable ever since he'd missed his final. Which of course Katsuo knew was a lie- he watched the piglet check his watch before lying back down over the cameras. Shin had made him pancakes later in the day, when he should have been taking the very tests. For some strange reason, Jordan seemed to purposefully miss the final. Katsuo was certain he knew. Beyond the fact that his porker was probably never going to pass anyway, he also didn't exactly have much in the way of clothes.

Case in point, the pajamas he had drunkenly stuffed himself into before eating the night before. He was coated in chocolate frosting and powdered sugar, but beyond that the outfit was already unacceptable by most social standards. His gut was plopping over the waistband, strained with the entire feast he'd crammed into it. First the entirety of a medium pizza, then the special 'make you a fat hog' Katsudon straight from the pot, followed by about a gallon of greasy baked beans, all finished off by a chocolate cake. And Katsuo hadn't allowed any silverware during any of it.

His hog finished the night a weeping, bloated sack of fat. Loud, too. Groaning and moaning and burping and passing gas. He was too uncomfortable to sleep for about an hour, so Katsuo decided to play a game.

With his skills, he'd been able to connect with others. Men like him. A few women, as well. Those who didn't just appreciate a large frame, but enjoyed the act of torturing fat hogs, watching thin, healthy people become panting sow who can barely heft their fat guts enough to waddle to their food. That's what the Pig Pen website was for- their amusement. Of course they paid to use it. 10k a month was nothing to them compared to the joy they had of watching Katsuo's hogs. He had made a name for himself quickly. He wasn't the only one with a setup similar, but he was one of the best. If he could get three more pigs, he would have the most of any of them.

But first- this one.

He logged onto the pig pen and turned on his webcam. His hog was too exhausted and drunk to wonder what Katsuo was doing. As soon as he was live, his proud porker let out a groan and farted, which was one of the best cold-opens Katsuo's pigs had ever given.

M: Oh look at the gassy thing. You must've stuffed him good.

Katsuo smirked.

K: He stuffs himself. I don't have to lift a finger. I have it all on tape.

M: How much?

K: Later. For now, he's up for auction. Not the porker himself, obviously. Custom clips. What should I do to him? He is drunk, stupid, fat and gassy. Place your bids.

That certainly started up a conversation. A few people had been lurking, waiting to see where the discussion lead, and they were pleased by the turn. Requests started flowing in, along with price tags. Of course they knew the highest bid wouldn't actually win. It would be the one that caught Katsuo's interest. And one did.

D: Wouldn't it be a shame if he suddenly felt hungry again? And there's no more food in the house, you'll have to go out. Maybe walk to a fast-food place nearby, somewhere he might run into someone he knows? ... 25k. More for extra.

"Extra" was easy to understand. Crying, buttons popping, fat boys falling down, farting, burping. The possibilities practically dizzied the Japanese man. That was what he'd missed from the boys he'd bought from sex trade rings. Seeing them in front of the people who knew them before they were hogs and watching them humiliate themselves. All of those were 'extra', and it easily could raise the price to 100k if his fat little piggy came through.

K: We have a winner. Stay logged on, folks. I'll set it up live.

D: Let me know if you need any help. I live nearby.

That might have been a threat, if Katsuo didn't know D's real name. He was not a collector of porkers, but he was willing to spend the money to enjoy the others. Dominic was as much an evil genius as Katsuo, but with less commitment. Shortly after the last comment, he responded again.

D: I'd like to meet this one, once he's a little bit further along. I have plans. DM me later.

---
It only took a bit of work to set up a live feed. Katsuo had become rather tech-savvy over the years of exploiting his hogs antics. He knew exactly where to take his porker, too. Right across from his work there was an entire row of fast-food joints, and just on the other side were the clubs his piggy once frequented. After he'd set up a camera on a pin on his tie, he poke his pig in the gut. Hard. Hard enough to force out a simultaneous fart and burp.

"Drink up, piggy." he said, pushing a cup against his lips. "You'll need your energy, we have to walk down the street to get you more to eat."

His hog did not make a fuss as he was hoisted up... Well, beyond a bout of gas that made the American boy groan and pout. He was so out-of-it that he didn't question why they were getting more food, but with the mixture he'd just chugged, he'd be hungry again in just a few minutes.

"Let's get you into something... more decent." Katsuo continued, giving the pale gut hanging out of the pajamas a hard pat. His pig moaned.

"Mmm... my stomach hurts." he whimpered.

"That's because you ate so much. Look at yourself, you're gigantic." Katsuo urged, lifting the piglets hand and forcing him to fondle his own stomach. "Now get changed."

He put his porker in an outfit that was not, by any stretch of the imagination, 'more decent'. He fished out some of his older clothes from the back of the closet, the sort of 'sexy' outfits his little slut used to wear clubbing. A top that was meant to show a sexy sliver of his tight stomach now let his fat gut plop out beneath it, barely covering more than a bra. He tried to force his piggy into a pair of shorts, but they were all too tight on his fat, gassy backside. As he tried to heft them up his tubby thighs while Katsuo watched, he couldn't hold back now that the potion was inside of him. Every tug forced out a fart or burp, and when his piggy whimpered and cried the Japanese man laughed.

"What's wrong, porky? Are you upset?" he asked. Jordan was in no shape to respond, but he belched and let go of the shorts. "That's okay, I'll fetch your sweatpants- they're all that fit you now anyway."

He tossed the sweatpants at the porker and left him to get changed, leaning out the door to call to his brother. He told him to pick them up at the McDonalds in two hours. They'd walk there, so his pig could show off his out-of-shape waddle and be nice and sweaty for the actual show. He checked to make sure he was streaming, smirking at the comments. The demand to see his hog in proper clubbing gear was quite strong. He'd have to look into that.

K: Alright, ladies and gentlemen. Prepare for the show.