Dad Gains

My Dad had always been a big eater, in a love-hate relationship with food. He had almost no self-control, wanting to indulge himself nonstop until he grew disgusted in the weight he gained. He'd immediately change his tune, practicing abstinence, forcing the pounds to quickly fall from his body. He'd be progressing well, at least, until he was sick of the diet. Missing all the fatty high-calorie food, the scales would shift as he began to indulge himself again. His weight would be quickly back up, only for the cycle to repeat weeks later.

It was hard watching my father struggle through it all, growing huge and slimming down again, unhappy and never able to relax. Watching the scale go up and down however fed into an idea, another way to gain from his experience. Thoughts of exploiting his desire to eat formed in my head, documenting it, thinking about the money people would pay to see it. There was value to him being fed, constantly growing bigger and bigger, never stopping. After all, it would help him finally break the cycle. It was the right thing to do, wasn't it?

I quickly set up a website, sneaking pictures of him in his unflattering state while he gorged himself on food. I was shocked at how fast donations took off, patrons flooding to the page to watch him eat. I began bringing him out to restaurants and buffets, paying for his meals, watching him relax as he let the care over what he ate slide. He wasn't paying, so why should he stop himself from enjoying it?

Every pound he gained seemed to bring more and more money, soon all his meals paid for. My Dad was still none the wiser, happily ignorant, not caring while he had achieved the food-led life he'd been made for. Soon there was enough to pay for lavish vacations to all-inclusive resorts, cruises, places where every meal was a feast. He barely left dining, but soon preferred to stay in bed and order room service.

The only thing that could almost fit him anymore was his robe, but even now his body spilled out of it, struggling to wrap around his fat belly and tits that fell out between the fabric. I was pretty sure he'd figured out what I was doing, shamelessly posing and telling me to snap a pic. I don't think it mattered to him though, his one desire to constantly eat satisfied, bringing in the money that allowed him to indulge. He was my prized pig, and he couldn't be happier.