As ubiquitous as cannibalism is, not all guys want to be eaten. Sure, there are a lot of volunteers - I'm eating a pulled pork sandwich I made from one right now - but there are whole companies like Hanselco that have made built their whole model on providing meat from unwilling guys.

Well, sometimes there's an escape. A door is left unlocked, a pig is left alone, maybe the guards let him live, and a pig might take advantage of the opportunity and get out. Most don't make it past the front gate, but this one was faster than he looked.

Luckily, Hanselco have a policy to protect their product - anyone who returns an unwilling pig to their facilities will get half the profits when he's sold.

This pig made the news because he managed to get out of the compound, which is a rarity. A real Bonnie and Clyde type: After all, we all love a story about livestock escaping. The fact that he's cute and managed to get out in just his underwear and somehow made it a few days without being a snatched up meant lots of people were following the story. Well, Hanselco knew they'd make a lot of money for his meat - enough that when he made it to his best friend Tim's house to wait until the heat was off, he immediately knocked him out and called Hanselco. They were already talking about selling him to a restaurant for a celebrity banquet, and even half that cash would help Tim put the deposit down on a house.

Well, as soon as I saw this pig on TV I knew I had to have him, so as soon as he was captured I bought him for a cool $500k.

Well, a few weeks being fattened in a cage and he was willing to do anything for a little freedom, even if that meant getting a shock collar and becoming my latest house pig. By the time I ate his balls, he'd accepted his fate - and a few weeks after that, he even seemed to enjoy some of the perks of being a housepig, although he begged me to let him go more than once. As if I'd let a pig this delicious go anywhere as anything but leftovers.

I dismembered this longpig, prepared the limbs for a barbecue, then impaled him alive on a spit. He was squealing for hours, and I even invited his best friend over for dinner - after all, it only seemed right that he taste the pig everyone wanted considering he delivered him right to me - and he tasted so good his friend offered me another of his fat friends in exchange for another dinner invitation.

Pigs, you can run, but sooner or later you're going to get exactly what you deserve.

Johnny Capuano in Twisted Fiction (2023)

The beach is the perfect place to roast up a longpig, and boys of all shapes and sizes are flocking to their closest beaches every time the sun is out intent on never making it back home - whether they're cooked up right then and there, taken back to a cannibal's place - either way, captured by Hanselco, or even scouted by a butcher, they'll eventually end up as nothing but meat.

It's a good plan, really. The ocean is right there for cleaning, barbeques are common, and a lot of beaches, especially the fancy ones, are surrounded with fruit trees, so there are plenty of stuffing ingredients nearby - and if you need any further proof, just check the back of any bottle of suntan lotion or sunblock - either it says "cooking safe" or it'll give you some recipes and ingredients that will compliment its flavours.

Well, when I turned up at the beach with my friends and a spit, I obviously got attention. I even got a guy interested in being butchered and a prospective house pig, but today? I was in the mood for lean meat.

I got a few eager pigs lining up, but this was the one who impressed me most. He's clearly done his homework and practised a variety of spitriding positions until he's perfected each one, maximizing the chances of a clean through and through regardless of the chef's choice of method, maximising his chances of experiencing the spit for a good long while. Add to the fact that he was just plain delicious and it was an easy decision - although I did take the numbers of the other lean pigs who wanted to be my dinner.

This pig wore a mango and coconut sunscreen that acted as the perfect glaze - after he'd been washed and cleaned out thoroughly in the ocean, of course. A quick fuck and then it was time to stuff him with sausagemeat, mango, papaya, and coconut. After that it was just a case of harvesting his oysters and impaling him on the spit, and if you can believe it he held his position the entire time, begging for it - he would have been fucking himself if he wasn't determined to enjoy himself cooking, and I think seeing the spit emerge from his throat was worth it for him - after that it was just attaching his wrists and ankles to the crossbars and he was cooking up by sunset.

Well, we had plenty of burgers and chops to keep us going while the main event cooked, and we even made some new friends - a few pigs for my friends, and a guy who was eager to sell his fatass stepson - one look at him and I decided that I could find space for an extra cage in my basement, or else shift one of my caged stock to housepig status.

Well, this pig was every bit as delicious as he looked, and lean pork is a great way of treating yourself even if you're on a diet, or just want a change. by the time midnight rolled around he was reduced to bones - great for soup stock or treating my pup boys. Don't be turned off by the size of the pig - it's quality over quantity, every time.

I just opened my newest restaurant in Brisbane, Australia, and I decided on a great way to drum up interest - the Opening Night Pageant.

Any pig in the city could volunteer (or be volunteered for money and a seat at the table) to take part in the pageant. We had over 500 willing and unwilling applicants, all eager to be the centrepiece of the opening night celebrations. Me and the judging panel quickly narrowed that down to 100 - and made a quick buck and filled our larders along the way.

The final 100 were assessed on looks, meat quality, sex appeal, talent, personality, compliance, and eagerness - a low score in the latter two or three categories could more than be made up for with high scores elsewhere. Eventually, we got it down to the final fifteen, with numbers 85-100 being reduced to butchered stock or sent to fattening cages at the restaurant.

The prize, of course, was a two week vacation at Isla Cerdos and the honour of being cooked by the world's top longpig chef, all but guaranteeing a sumptuous and delicious feast - and this pigleather champion's belt.

This entry knew what he was doing, from his choice of swimwear (a "speedo" made from boybacon) to his talent (eating - he packed away twelve pounds of stuffing in five minutes). Add to that his party boy attitude and it was clear he'd be the centrepiece of the first night, with the next six runner-ups each taking his spot for the rest of the week.

Well, opening night comes along, and what's more Australian than a good old fashioned barbeque? I picked the exact stuffing he'd feasted on (Cherry, pineapple, bread, egg yolks, barbeque spices, and plenty of fresh longpork from an unwilling pig that made it to the top 20) and covered him in a barbeque glaze, then spitted him right there on the beach - and he squealed like a pig, rock hard as he was impaled alive and then roasted.

He lasted a good few hours on the spit, and he was as delicious as he dreamed - definitely worthy of his first place finish - but tomorrow night I'm cooking a fat black guy who shows a lot of promise himself, and has always dreamt of an earth oven, plus we have a dozen pigs ready to roast up - so even if you missed your chance to dig into this prize winning pork, you'll still have something to look forward to.

For a lot of boys, being eaten is just an extension of what they really want - to submit entirely to another man. If he wants them as a pet or a sex slave, that's hot - and if he wants them as a meal, that's his prerogative. Their true purpose is to please their master however necessary, and a lot of submissives understand that their chances of reaching 30 are slim - eventually they'll get eaten by an owner, or sold for chops.

This pig just hit 19, and his owner was planning on butchering him on his 25th birthday, but I've been experimenting with some new recipesfor muscular pigs like this and was willing to pay top dollar for this cut of longpork. A nice, fatty pig can give unrivalled marbling and tenderness, but a muscled pig has its charms, and cooked the right way can be as delicious as the most tender fat boy - and I'm always eager to expand the definition of flavour.

These photos and gifs were from the initial meat inspection. You can see nervousness, of course, but you also see determination, an eagerness to please - both his current master, who'd walk away with a few hundred grand in his bank account, and his prospective new one who wanted a good meal.

That last photo made me realize he'd be the perfect guinea pig for a new type of oven I've developed - an oven proof rubber seal leaves the head exposed even as the torso and limbs cook, helping to maximise survival time - a lot of chefs dream of a pig who survives the cooking, and a lot of pigs get hard picturing living long enough for their chef to carve. This pig, though, just dreams of pleasing.

I didn't even need to take him out of the stocks - I just had his owner cage him right there and prepare him for shipping. Ten hours in a cargo plane and he was in his new owners grasp.

My first priority was getting a good bulk going, ready to turn into more muscle. I strapped a feeding mask on him - filled with my patented 100% efficient pig feed, naturally - and prepped his oysters. Once I'd sliced them off and eaten them, he'd put on a good foundation - a vigorous workout regime and a diet of slop and by the time his 20th birthday rolled around he had an extra 75 pounds of muscle and under a layer of 25 pounds of fat.

For this British pig I chose British ingredients - I happened to come across a fat guy from Glasgow who desperately wanted to be nothing but stuffing, and I had enough for this pig and at least three or four others. I mixed that tender meat with breadcrumbs, eggs, herbs, spices, and some seasonal fruits and berries. This pig was so eager to please he insisted he had room for more even as he was completely full. Then it was just a case of glazing him (A classic honey and rosemary glaze) and shoving him into the new model of oven.

Well, it's safe to say that the experiment was a resounding success. He was moaning around the apple gag the whole time, and eager to serve whenever I took the apple out - and describe exactly how he felt, smiling giddily when he realised the pain was starting to die down, and when I complimented his smell. I only wish the design of the oven made it easier to take them out to baste - the oven slides out allowing easy access, but not quite easy enough to fuck them during the experience.

Finally it was time to serve - he was still alive and, while that's not that rare, he was definitely more lucid than most of them - enough for a few weak words, even a quick taste of his own meat, finding it delicious and flavourful, the combination of fat and muscle resulting in some firm but tender meat, and by the time he was done I even had a nice trophy head - usually I just get those from stew or butcherings, but he may well be the first of many oven roasted pigs to adorn my wall.

Even with cannibalism legalized, there's plenty of men capable of looking at other guys, even chubby ones, without wanting to eat them. Plenty of cannibals are in loving relationships but, well, break ups can be messy, and it's a good idea to take care of your diet, or your boyfriend might decide having you in the oven is more appealing than having you in bed.

Well, some chefs get off on the betrayal. They'll date a guy, romance them, then cook them up. Chef Eric here goes a step further.

He'll start with a skinny guy, making it clear that while he eats guys, he only ever cooks up fat guys himself. He'll pretend he's used to feeding fat guys, volunteers mostly, to justify the huge portions, feigning offence or anger at himself for forgetting who he's cooking for. Most pigs, even unwilling ones, will still clear their plates, eat everything, to avoid hurting his feelings.

Inevitably, they start to gain weight. He'll weigh them and make it clear he feels responsible, feign feeling bad for how tasty they look - still sexy, but now lots of cannibals will start seeing him as a meal.

Still, the pig will often reassure him that it's not his fault.

Eric won't slow down, though. He'll start associating food with pleasure, introducing some role play, praising him for clearing his plate. It's surprising how often they'll get into it, feeling like getting cooked up by him won't be so bad... or maybe, like Mark here, they'll decide it's too much and try to leave, and Eric will make it clear that he's a piece of meat - a sexy one, one that he had a connection with, but they're going to be together forever - albeit with Mark as just a few inches on his waistline.

It'll start with just locking all the doors, strapping on a shock anklet, encouraging him to laze around, tying him up at mealtimes to forcefeed him, praising him all the while. Isn't it nice to have no worries? Just time spent with a man who loves him, both as a man and as a peace of meat.

If he still doesn't get it and insists on being a bad boyfriend, then it's time for the cage. No freedom, plenty of relaxation as he thinks about what a bad boyfriend he is. If he ever loved Eric, the least he can do is fatten up - and Eric will force him to if he needs to - and judging by how good his oysters were, he was in for a real feast.

Well, a few months in a cage and he was nice and fat - and, well, it's not like Eric was going to let him go, and let someone else reap the rewards of his work. By now Mark's muscles were too weak for him to try anything stupid like run away - and even if he did, Eric had burned all his clothes, and a fat boy running naked down the street is going to end up in someone's stomach.

Eric picked his boyfriend's favorite stuffing ingredients - apple, walnut, raisins, sausagemeat - and covered him in a honey and apple whisky glaze. An apple in the mouth, some cooking twine, and he was ready to slide into the oven.

Well, he had a long time to think about his actions as he cooked, and Eric was content that even though their relationship was ending, it was ending in the perfect way - with him having a full belly. He brought some buds around to celebrate, and one of them even brought a new guy along - a twink who'd just celebrated his eighteenth birthday days ago, wanted a boyfriend who'd fatten him up and eat him before he hit 20, and thought Eric was exactly the sort of man he wanted to feed.

Well, Eric got exactly what he wanted out of his relationship - a 300 pound longpig, roasted to perfection - and he even had a new boyfriend more than eager to fatten up for his turn to cook - and judging by how delicious Mark was, he was confident that he'd found his prince charming.

Some of us in the longpork industry have taken cues from traditional meat production, namely Judas Goats.

A Judas Goat is a trained animal that'll lure animals to the slaughter. With humans being so much smarter, Judas Pigs, as they're so called, can help lead even the most cautious longpigs to fulfilling - and delicious - futures.

These two aren't my type, but I know a few guys who'd love to have them for dinner, so when I hired them to do some work around my house it was just a case of tading them long enough for shock anklets. I was preparing to sell them but had another idea - two jock boys like this could make ideal Judas Pigs. A lot of fat college boys dream of hooking up with the straight frat guys at their campus, and a lot of cannibals love the taste of fat college boys.

I made them a deal - I let them go if they bring me a few unwilling fat boys, but this one was at the very top of the menu. He's a pig rights activist who's been working hard to try and get longpork outlawed ever since he walked in on his brother being spitroasted on the beach a few years back. It's not just the marches, it's the organising, the social media pages with thousanfs of followers, the work. Well, he's hot, he's big, he drinks plenty of beer and, well, you know he's going to be on someone's menu. A little bit of belly worship from two "supposedly" straight jock types with feeding kinks, and it was only too easy to make sure they fed him a drugged cake and arrange the pick up.

Well, I'm a man of my word - I freed these pigs right to a friend of mine who loves the taste of cagefed jockpig, and I locked this one in a cage - I'm not going to risk my hard-earned meal.

Well, that was the case, but it turns out the piggy doth protest too much. I took him out to weigh, and he was only too eager to get back on the cage. By the time his first week was over, he was openly teasing me. By the end of week two he was begging me to cook him, make him delicious. All that posturing, just to resist temptation, and now he was in a cannibal's clutches why bother keeping up the facade?

Well, while I absolutely wasn't going to turn down this prime piece of Asian pork, I had another use for him, first. As soon as I took his (delicious) appetisers I sent him back to college as my brand new Judas Pig, and wouldn't you know it? He was even more effective. After all, he had the hook-ups with all the vegans and vegetarians, including the fat ones - and some who, like him, had never tasted meat, and it wasn't just those in his group in college - he'd go out to the pig right's rallies, lead the marches, join in on the chants, then lead some of the more delicious pigs to my place for a vegan feast. Some of them became feasts right away, some were caged and forcefed vegan pig feed ahead of cooking, sale, or transport - and it was amazing to see someone so eagerly helping me prep and cook my meals, but politely refusing to eat the end result and risk his own flavour.

Well, all good things come to an end, but why not give a pig that gave me so many delicious meals a moment in the spotlight? He set up a stream on his socials titled "How to cook a vegan feast", with a few thousand followers tuning in only to find out he was the vegan feast, talking through exactly what I was doing, describing his meat, telling all his followers that his strict diet had made him delicious and tender - the sort of meal any man would want. He described the stuffing (breadcrumbs, butter, spices, apple, mixed berries, maple syrup, and vegan sausagemeat made from actual vegans), glaze (maple bourbon), and the taste of the apple whisky he downed. Then he described the feeling of the spit travelling through him, in between moans of pleasure and squeals of pain. "Stick to your diets, guys, it'll make you so much tastier" he moaned, smiling widely before he opened his mouth nice and wide for the spit to come out, and then it was just a case of fastening his arms and legs to the crossbars for an even roasting, then over the coals.

We livestreamed the cooking and wouldn't you know it? A lot of longtime followers with names like "Veganboy" or "Veggielife" comments' went from horror and anger to curiosity and, eventually, eagerness. Luckily, I had one of my housepigs to monitor the stream, direct them all to Meat Up, even bringing the ones he thought I'd like most to my attention.

The pig was cooking for hours until it was time to dig in, and believe me he tasted as good as he looked - and helped a lot of other boys realize that the true reason they avoided meat is to provide their future chefs with the best meals possible.

What is Thanksgiving without a nice, plump turkeyboy roasted to perfection?

One business I invested in is a local farm/fattening facility with a difference - whereas Hanselco mostly trades in snatch and grabs, with the occasional volunteer dreaming of a factory farm experience, Happy Ham Farms will meet with clients with a specific boy on their mind - a boy they'll capture, fatten, and train to be the perfect, obedient meal for any special event, whether you're roasting up the guy who bullied your son to celebrate his college graduation, your cheating ex boyfriend as a wedding meal, or just a guy you know would taste amazing with an extra few hundred pounds but don't have the facilities to keep.

Sometimes, guys will take it as a compliment. Even if they've never considered being eaten, knowing that someone specifically wants them is enough for them to come quietly, flattered at the idea that someone wants their meat. Other times, especially if revenge is playing a part, they'll try to run but, well, charging such high prices for their product means Happy Hams can hire the best hunters in the business.

This pig won the spot in the musical theater program the guy who bought him had his eye on, so he made the rational decision to get rid of the competition in the best way possible. Of course, that was six months and at least 150 pounds ago, and this pig was a lot less eager then. Ah well. A few weeks locked in a feeding cage with some thorough hypnosis and he was only too happy to accept his fate - sure, he'd never make it on Broadway, but he'd never get a bad review, either. He'd never get old, watch someone hot new thing get all the jobs he wanted. All he had to do was relax, listen to the soothing voice, and watch the beautiful spiral as the feeding tube pulsed, pumping 100% efficient slurry down his throat.

When he was released from the cage he willingly submitted himself to branding, got a microchip implanted in his neck, and called up the college to turn down the place he'd been offered - someone else deserved it more, and he deserved to be eaten.

After that, he was released to the sty. He had his own room with his own bed, visits from his new owner and his friends and family, video games, movies, everything he could have wanted, plus plenty of other pigs to hang out with, and his own personal case worker to help him reach his weight goals however possible, whether that was time in the feeding cage or just plenty of delicious meals.

This pig was earmarked for Thanksgiving dinner - enough time to hit 300 pounds and for his new owner to enjoy the first few months of college life, just so he could tell his meal all about it. A few weeks before the big day appetizer prep started and he was switched to a diet of acorns and beer. A few days before it was just beer, and yesterday he was caged for pick up.

He was eager to meet his new owner, his dads, his brothers, his cousins, and a few folks from the musical theater department at his dream university. Still, he was humble, blushing as they complimented his meat, talking about how good he'd taste.

Well, earlier this morning, after an evening of the guests playing with their food, this pig could barely wait for dinner. He was shaved, cleaned, then stuffed with a cranberry, sweet potato, longpork, and marshmallow stuffing, and judging by his screams of delight he really would have made a huge name for himself on stage.

Then, it was the cranberry and apple whisky glaze, and just for an extra treat they sprinkled him with marshmallow. After that it was just a case of trussing him up, putting an apple in his mouth, and he was in the oven by ten AM.

Well, he never played the leading role on the West End, but his performance as dinner definitely warranted an award. Juicy, tender, well marbled, and with the perfect balance of flavours - and judging by the look in his eyes and his happy wiggling while the guests complimented his meat whenever he was brought out to baste, it's safe to say he was satisfied with his work. Now, if only we could get an encore performance, instead of the greatest hits album of leftovers.

Ah, denial. It isn't just about looks anymore, it's about taste. So many pigs have ended up on the menu because they refused to accept that they'd put on enough weight to put them at the top of the menu.

Take this guy. He got into game streaming but, well, so much time sitting on your ass snacking does wonders for your waistline - at least from the perspective of cannibals. He got just a little softer - soft enough that his stream got huge, with thousands of cannibals tuning into every stream hoping for a little peek of his belly. Pretty soon, they were paying for his pizza orders (An extra large Pancia Supreme), fattening him up.

In the first gif you can see the moment he realizes he fucked up - he's definitely softer than he was a few months ago, and all those guys who were so eager to watch him chow down on longpork surely wanted to chow down on him - or at least see it happen.

Then in the second gif, straight back to denial. Sure, he's a little softer, but so what? You see the pigs that get eaten - right? They're all way fatter, all he has to do is go to the gym more often and he'll be fine.

Well, that'd work, but when you get that famous it's only a matter of time before you end up in the sights of a few local cannibals, especially if you don't invest in some private security like so many celebrities do.

My nephew was one of them, and he's just getting started in hunting, and he played the long game here - got a job at Long John's Pizza, waited until he got the chance to deliver his food, lace it with a knock out drug, and wait outside for fifteen minutes, then come back in. He hogtied his new pig right on camera, wolfed down the rest of the pizza, then told everyone to drop into his own stream in the morning to see what they'd all been waiting for.

Once this pig was cleaned out he was stuffed with exotic fruits, longpork, and spices, covered in a mango and raspberry glaze, trussed up, and roasted alive as his new owner streamed the whole thing, letting him know how many viewers they had. If only he'd take comfort from the fact that his last stream got more donations than any of his others - or that he was just as deiicious as his fans always dreamed.

Weirdly enough, one of the weirder side effects of cannibalism being legalized is a big boom for nutritionists and dieticians.

For guys who don't want to end up on the menu, a qualified professional can reduce their chances - although they'll never be zero, especially if they're hot.

For a pig who wants it - especially one with a chef waiting - a nutritionist can help maximise flavour and help them achieve their true potential, whether that means shedding the pounds or packing them on.

This couple met on Meat-Up two years ago, and they've been in a happy relationship ever since - of course, any happy relationship between a longpig and a cannibal is only ever going to end with the pig getting cooked up, but that was part of the attraction to both of them. After they decided to make it official they booked in with a dietician to discuss a diet plan.

The Doctor said that the pig would taste best at 350 pounds, and prescribed a strict fattening regime that the pig was only too happy to follow - and his owner was just as happy watching his lover fatten up. No long discussions about the future or kids or a wedding day, just how hungry he was, how excited the pig was for the oven, how he'd finally be cooked.

Their dream was for piggy to be ready for their second anniversary - and luckily, all he needed after this appointment an extra few pounds before the big day. A few days in a feeding cage with my 100% efficient pig slop and the pig hit his target just in time.

The pig was stuffed from both ends with a longpork, cherry, and peach stuffing, slathered in a peach glaze, and downed a bottle of peach schnapps before it was time to truss him and slide him into the oven.

The cannibal brought over a few friends to celebrate the anniversary - after all, it was an occasion worth celebrating, and 350 pounds of meat is a lot to get through. In fact, he'd had feelings for one of his buds for a while, and they'd privately talked about getting together, getting a three way relationship going with a longpig they'd both had their eyes on - one who was coming to the party himself. Piggy knew, of course, and fully supported his lover's decision - any longpig's dream is to get eaten, he didn't think how owner would never get hungry again - he just hoped he'd be delicious.

And he was! His boyfriend and their buds were more than satisfied with how the relationship played out, and the happy new throuple were dining on longpig leftovers for days.

I throw a Halloween party every year, and just like with every party I'm always serving up longpig - and with it being a holiday, I want to make sure I have something really special.

Luckily, I get pigs more or less begging for the chance to be one of my holiday meals. So this year I did something different.

In January, I posted on Meat-up that I was looking for pigs for all the major holidays. I got photos, videos, nutritional information, diets, measurements, everything I needed to make an informed decision. I narrowed the shortlist down to fifty pigs and had them all get a one way trip out to California, with the understanding that they'd never go home, as I made my final selection.

Some of the decisions were easy. I knew I wanted a Chinese pig for Chinese New Year, and of the two pigs that flew out from Shanghai, one needed a little too much time to get ready, while one of them was good enough to eat. A cornfed, All-American type was ideal for a July 4 barbecue, and even though I don't personally celebrate eid, the 300 pound Saudi Arabian boy definitely warranted a feast of his own.

Don't worry, I made sure all the pigs I didn't pick went to good homes - a few went to Isla Cerdos, a few went to some chef friends of mine, two got sent as project pigs at the Isla Cerdos culinary program, three were butchered, and the rest went to pigsitters until I had space for them as house pigs.

This was my selection for Halloween - 300 pounds of prime pork, with plenty of time to maintain his meat and ensure the maximum flavour. I shifted him to an mostly vegetarian diet and monitored him carefully, made sure he only ate pre approved snacks, and lots of them. Two months before Halloween, I cut meat out entirely - this pig was strictly a vegetarian. One month before he was caged and fed only 100% efficient and vegetarian pig slop. Four days before Halloween and he switched to a liquid diet, only brought out when it was time to shave him, clean him, and prep him for the oven the day before the big event.

I celebrated the season with a sweet stuffing- maple syrup, longpork from a pig who'd hoped to be my Halloween meal but sold to a butcher bud of mine (seems only fair he got to participate in some way), donuts, pumpkin, cinammon, pecans, and nutmeg. It tasted so good he was only too eager to shovel it down his throat while I worked fistful after fistful up his eager ass, packing him tight - after all, he had a lot of mouths to feed. A maple pecan glaze rubbed into every inch of pork, and I even switched out the traditional apple for a candy one. Then, it was just a matter of trussing him up and sliding him into the oven. I take Halloween seriously, hence the longer than usual cooking time - an extra long time on a low heat meant plenty of time for all the fat to melt into the pork for extra flavour and tenderness, and it meant this Pork Chop got to experience cooking for a nice long time, especially when I broght him out to baste or rest the meat and, well, if you can't play with your food on Halloween, when can't you? Just call it a trick. He was ready when it was time for my guests to arrive, and as an extra treat for such a special pig, I served him rare - still alive, unable to feel pain, but aware that he was being eaten. I even paid some of the wait staff from one of my restaurants overtime if they worked the event, carving the meat while me and my buds and pigs enjoyed the party.

Well, it's safe to say that the party was a huge success - the pig was tender, delicious, and lasted for hours as we went back and forth to get more and more, and I bet this pig was satisfied to finally become the meal he'd always dreamed of.

Let's face it - beaches may as well be buffets at this point. We live in a world where any guy can legally be captured and eaten, and when you have a place where they congregate in nothing but their swimsuits, someone's going to their new home in a cage, or else they're getting cooked right then and there.

Well, willing pigs will do anything to end up on the menu, but of course most cannibals looking for a quick meal will go for the tastier option, so they need to make it known what they're looking for. Some will get a brand that says something like "100% Pork Product" or substitute barbecue sauce for sunblock, but more and more longpigs have adopted the speedo system as well.

A speedo puts as much meat on display as possible short of nudity - nude beaches have defaulted to other methods - and when it comes to getting eaten, it's all about putting as much of your meat on display as possible. While unwilling pigs are shifting to knee length swimsuits, those that know their destiny is to be devoured and want it more than anything will wear speedos.

And of course, there's the colour coding. Not every pig wants the same treatment. A red speedo means ready to cook, green means vegetarian, black means butchered, white means whole, pink means raw, purple means hunted.

Blue, like this pig, means "Hansel". Originally for skinny longpigs that too often went overlooked, chubby or even fat pigs who want to be fattened up even more before they're eaten.

Of course, these speedos are more suggestions, for the most part. Pigs don't get to demand anything from those higher up on the food chain, or else no unwilling pig would ever end up as a few extra pounds of fat. I know plenty of pigs that have wanted to go one way, but had a chef with different ideas - hell, I'd be lying if I hadn't done it myself.

Well, everyone at the beach had their eyes on this Mexican Pork Chop, but they were all too nice about it. They forget the heirarchy of the food chain, with chefs like us at the top. He was talking to some chef who was prepared to fatten him up when I grabbed him, hogtied him, and dragged him back to my place so he could get the treatment he deserved, starting with a few weeks in a feeding cage.

By the time this pig was ready to roast he was fifty pounds heavier, a few inches wider, and hornier to be eaten than ever before, especially after getting to see (and taste) my skills firsthand. He knew he was in the hands of a guy who truly saw him as a piece of meat, and whose chief concern was getting an enjoyable meal.

I stuffed this pig with a mango, coconut, and longpork stuffing, with churros in place of the traditional breadcrumbs. For the glaze I went with tequila and lime, and the result was the perfect pig for a spitroast on the beach. Seeing my skill attracted a lot of cannibals and a few pigs to my spot, and it's always rewarding to help pigs find the right men for them. I even brought home a set of triplets, which is a rarity. They all had green on their speedos but there was some mix and matching. The one in black and green wanted to be fed to the one wearing green and blue, but, well, it's my tastes that matter more than anything. The one who wanted to fatten was definitely ready to go, and the one with the red jockstraps definitely deserved the Hansel treatment. Well, I'm sure that after seeing all those satisfied faces when I served up this hog, they'll accept that I know best.

Chunky and coming to a beach near you

As soon as cannibalism was legalized, it wasn't long before enterprising businessmen hit on another idea - after all, it isn't just beef we get from cows, it's leather. As soon as the first designer had a casting call, had the models skinned alive and butchered, then turned their skin into his newest runway lines, longpig leather became one of the most popular materials out there. Easy to get, cheap to make, and undeniably sexy.

With that in mind, a lot of leather shops struck deals with butchers and slaughterhouses, or even opened their own. Any pig that volunteers to be turned into leather will get their meat processed, and vice versa the hottest pigs and captures will get their skins turned into jackets, underwear, and fetish gear.

Of course, live skinning is excruciating, but then again so is cooking, and there's plenty of volunteers for that. This pig has wanted to be used for his leather ever since his big brother disappeared and he noticed his tattoo on his math teacher's new mid life crisis jacket, and as soon as he hit eighteen he applied for a job at the leather store.

He's put a lot of work into skincare and meat quality - sure he'll never get cooked alive, but there's some good meat on him, and that soft skin has no stretchmarks which makes it highly sought after. Luckily for him, I need a new jacket, some jockmeat, and some pigleather jocks for my housepigs, and I was more than happy to pay the premium to have him skinned and butchered. I just wish I could be there to hear him squeal.

Hooterboys started out s just a simple restaurant, albeit one that served boypig. Fit boys in white tops and tight underwear, flirting with the clientele, talking about how good the food was, maybe joking back when they ask how much it costs to order them.

Well, that first restaurant started out like that, anyway. Business is all about money, after all, and as soon as the first guy asked to speak to the manager and offered him $5k to have his server roasted alive, the company shifted focus. From then on, every Hooterboy was on the menu, and expected to do whatever it takes to make sure the guests were happy. The outfits got skimpier, each boy got a nutritionist who'd tell them exactly how to maximize their flavour, and given strict performance targets.

Flirting wasn't enough anymore, they had to sit on their guests laps as they discussed the menu, maybe let the guests feed them - or feed the guests if they wanted it. If they were at their target weight and a guest wanted to order them, they'd discuss which of their cuts they were told would taste best, how the nutritionist recommended they were cooked - and if they weren't they'd give them their name so the restaurant could contact them once they were ready.

Underperforming means you're caged and, if necessary, fattened. Same goes if a guy tries to leave their job before their notice period is done, and if a pig gets ordered during their notice period they're cooked, regardless of if they hit their goal.

Sure, any job where you're literally on the menu is going to be a hard sell for a lot of pigs, but the benefits are great. The pay is well above market rate, vacations are great, there's health insurance, and the guys are encouraged to mingle and fuck, and with how horny longpork makes guys, that definitely help.

Tommy here has hit his goal weight, and he knows there's no way he's coming home after tonight's shift with the number of guys who's asked to order him - and based on the fact that his manager just got a new car, he probably went for big bucks.

When he gets to work he's putting on a way too small outfit and serving a bachelor party, giving them that special Hooterboys treatment, pretending all he wants is to be their meal - after all, he's a goner either way, may as well go with some dignity - and after a few hours turning on the spit I guarantee they'll be happy with their choice - and if they're lucky, his fellow Hooterboys will get a sneak peek at how good they'll taste when it's their turn.

Tommy got hired as the first Hooter Boy last year in attempt to attract more gay customers, the job offer included all you can eat wings. Can not fit in his uniform now.

This redneck is part of a growing movement among young cannibals.

He's not interested in cooking. He wants to go at it like a real animal - meaning teeth. He and his buds will track their quarry and eat him alive, bite by bite. They've all have their teeth sharpened to help out, and even found a few willing meals looking for a unique experience.

This pig's gone a step further and transitioned to a pure predatory diet. Some pills to help make sure he gets the nutrients and he can happily capture a fat boy, eat him alive over the course of a week, then move on.

Well, while I definitely respect his lifestyle, he should know that in the animal kingdom there's apex predators, and he's no apex predator. Apex predators don't look that delicious, and we all have something extra - namely the use of tools. Yes, you can eat a guy alive and bloody , but cooking is the best way to bring out the best flavours of your meal.

Well, some of his friends weren't as into the lifestyle as he was, and they were all too easy to convince. They let me know where they'd be dragging their meal and helped me capture a few of these so-called alphas. They even came with their own captured pig - a nice fat Dutch boy who was amazing once he'd been oven roasted. Sure, he thought he was being saved, but in reality all I was interested in saving him from was cannibals that didn't know how to deal with such a fine piece of meat.

I sold most of the pigs on for a tidy profit, but this one I wanted all to myself. The ringleader deserved to be cooked up by the best in the business. Still, I respected his dietary choices - I let him pick which one of his buds would be used to fatten him up, and forcefed him that raw longpork until he was ready for the oven. I kept some of the meat aside for stuffing then opted for a spitroast, like cavemen used to. He struggled and squirmed, probably hoping that I'd cut something important, but even with a razor sharp spit he was still squirming for hours over the coals. Maybe he would have preferred I just bite, but hell, I know what I'm about, and I know this pig deserved to be cooked up. If only he knew how amazing he tasted when his meat was falling off the bone, he would have been cooking pigs himself.

Stretchmarks tell you a lot about a pig.

With a fat pig who's skin is relatively smooth or has pale stretchmarks, you know he's either naturally big or his weight gain has been more gradual. With a willing pig, that means he thinks he'd taste best fatter, and he's spent years devoting his life to that purpose.

With vivid stretchmarks, you know immediately that the weight gain has been over a much shorter period of time - a few months. Those marks are like badges of honour, almost - proof of their desire and dedication. After all, why else would a boy intentionally fatten up if he didn't want to end up on the menu? However, that lack of dedication can be a double edged sword. In my experience, a fair few stretchmarked pigs have changed their mind once the reality of the situation sinks in. Now, if I have my eye on such a pig, I take the right precautions to make sure nothing comes between me and my meal.

This pig caught my eye a while back. He's been following my page, watching my cooking videos, and I've watched his own progress. He's been on a crash fattening diet, where the goal is to get as fat as possible, as fast as possible. I've watched him eating butter like chocolate bars as he talked about his meat, how fat and juicy he was going to be, how good he'd taste. I even gave him treats - a whole birthday cake to celebrate his 21st, which he ate in one sitting, on his hands and knees and without cutlery.

Still, I could sense the unease. He refused to meet up with me or tell me how to find him, even though I told him repeatedly he was ready to eat. Those stretchmarks can easily mean a pig is going to lose his nerve.

Well, one day I got lucky - I just happened to see this pig at his college while I was hunting, sipping a goddamn diet coke. Well, I knew he didn't need an education - he deserved to be cooked and eaten. Luckily, I always have the means to knock out a pig on me, and it was too easy to inject him with a little something to knock him out. Just carrying him to my truck, I could tell he was going to be some prime pork. I got him back to my house and caged him, and when he woke up I explained that, really, it's for the best. He deserves to be eaten, to have his hard work acknowledged, and I was going to help him understand - by the time he was ready to spitroast he'd be nothing but a torso, eager to finally be used for his true purpose.

I cut off my appetisers and his left calf at the same time, and I let him watch as I cooked - and ate - both, carefully explaining the process and, of course, praising his flavour. His right calf I ate like a turkey leg, telling him I knew this is what he wanted, even if he wouldn't admit it. I could see the curious, even awed glances turn into open mouth staring.

When I took his thigh, I offered him a choice - he could stay in the cage or enjoy the relative freedom of my basement. He chose the latter, and soon he was sitting on the couch eating burgers made from his own meat, a happy smile when he realised how this was exactly what he deserved, just like I said - after all, why else would he taste so good?

Within a matter of weeks he was nothing but a torso, ready to spitroast, but he got cold feet - or would have, if I hadn't already eaten them. He tried to struggle, but at that point what can any pig do but accept his fate? I filled him with a peach, plum, blackberry, and longpork stuffing, reassuring him with each fistful that he was finally becoming the meal he knew he was - and he knew I deserved. The same went for the plum glaze - I praised the texture of his pork, the perfect marbling, made sure he knew how hungry I was for him. He struggled and squealed when he saw the spit, but how far can you go in that situation? Still, I strapped him down nice and tight as I impaled him, making sure he was still alive and breathing as he shuddered, opened wide, and watched the spit emerge from his throat. He looked scared, sure, but I could see excitement, too, even pride.

Soon he was on the spit, turning over the coals, moaning in pain and squealing in delight despite himself as I made sure the glaze was just right. I told him how hungry he was making me, how good he smelled, even made sure he watch as I sneaked a taste, chewing up a forkful of his pork. I was almost hoping he'd realize how much he wanted this but, well, it doesn't really matter at that point - even the best surgeon would just grab a plate.

I served him with an apple in his mouth and we all went back for second, third, even fourth plates of that tender, juicy pork. His reluctance did nothing to affect the meat quality - we ate until we were loosening our belts, chewing the meat off his ribs, eating his legs like drumsticks, and there was enough left that I had leftovers to last me a week. Here's a tip, chefs - if a pig has stretchmarks, do whatever it takes to take away their options. Their place is on your plate, and you know best.

250 pounds of pot gut

You know that old saying about the thrill of the hunt? Well, it goes both ways.

We call this hog the Gingerbread Pig. He does, too, on all his social medias.

This pig knows he'll taste good. Between all the fat boys his dad brought homes, the ones he saw at restaurants or on display at the butchers, or the ones served up for dinner, he knows that fat boys like him are delicious and tender - and as soon as he hit eighteen he realized that was his place, too, and that thought turned him on more than anything. He savoured every catcall, wolf whistle, or dinner invitation.

Still, he didn't want to make it easy. Part of the excitement for him was the idea that he was prey - not just a willing longpig but a prey animal, one step down the food chain and at the mercy of predators. He didn't want to just walk into a butcher or offer his meat to a restaurant. He even avoided all the other tricks.

What this pig wanted, craved even, was the full experience. He wanted to be treated like any other animal in the wild - stalked, trapped, and eaten.

So he bought a beaten up pick up truck for cheap and started driving. He'd enter eating contests around the country, turned on at the thought of all the guys watching salivating over his pork the way he was salivating over the longpig steaks or hot dogs. If the prize was money, awesome, if it was a longpig he'd bring them back and cook them up, or slaughter and butcher them if they decided to move on, content in the knowledge that every bite was making him fatter, juicier, and more tender.

He even took down a hunter or two - young guys, new to the game and overconfident in their abilities. If more than one turned up, he'd butcher one for the road.

To make matters worse were the videos like this, taunting every cannibal who followed him on Meat-up or OnlyHams, and there were thousands of us. He knows he's hot, he knows we'd all love to have him for dinner.

Well, the hunter always wins, eventually, especially when he has a network as big as mine. From this photo an arborist friend of mine managed to pinpoint the location to a specific forest in Oregon, a couple of dozen miles from Springfield. I happened to have a friend on the force over there so I had him check for any silver pick up trucks that had started appearing in town, and cross referenced any competitive eating contests nearby - what do you know? A newcomer had just won a longpig at a hot dog eating contest and a few hundred at a pie eating contest, driving around in a pick p truck that matched that description. Some CCTV and a scan of amazon deliveries in the area and boom, we had an address.

Well, I made sure this pig got the full experience. I went radio silent on social media and instructed all my co-conspirators to do the same. Flew out to Springfield, rented a truck of our own, and drove out to meet this pig - or should that be meat?

We parked a few miles away and made our way to his cabin on foot. I wonder how he would have felt knowing that we were watching him live as he recorded this? And with that ass in a jock, it was all too easy to sneak up on him. Hell, on the extended cut you can even see us letting the air out of his tyres in the background.

A warning shot and the hunt began. He made a run for it, and got to experience everything an animal does in the wild - the fear, the adrenaline, the excitement. Still, his cock was rock hard in his jockstrap, and he was almost squealing in delight when I got him in the ass with a dart, hogtied him, and dragged him back to camp.

The pig had even been nice enough to prep a lot of what we needed for a roast. The pig he'd won - cute Chinese guy, more than eager to be spitroasted - was still alive, but limbless, all the meat ground up for stuffing. If I wasn't sure of the alternative, I'd swear the Gingerbread Pig wanted to be a chef.

Well, there wasn't enough meat there for the amount of stuffing we needed - enough for the pig he was planning to have himself, but nowhere near enough for 300 pounds of meat.

Well, he had the right idea, and when I told him we could use the meat from his arms and legs, he told us exactly where to find the supplies we'd need.

Once his arms and legs were gone I treated myself to some beer battered meatballs as the others prepped the stuffing, then we got to work. In honour of his nickname we used gingerbread, and he couldn't help but appreciate the joke. Add in some beer, a stout and ginger ale glaze, and he was all too eager for the spit. After all, we'd earned his meat with a successful hunt.

A few hours later and a bunch of his other fans started to arrive - not enough that we all wouldn't leave satisfied, but enough that we wouldn't leave many leftovers. If he could talk he'd probably be telling them he knows he'll taste as good as they dreamed.

And you know what? He did. He'd been careful with his diet to make sure that when he was finally eaten he was as delicious as possible, and all that fat kept him tender and juicy, still breathing even as we began to carve. We stayed for the weekend until there was almost nothing left - enough for a few sandwiches to go - but hunting always helps bring people together, make us feel like men. Plus, I got a new caged pig out of the deal, and he's excited for his own turn to ride the spit next weekend.

Come check out my new video, “Pig in the Woods,” on OF! 20 minutes of me in the woods chugging beer, fisting steak, stretching my hole and talking about how big I want to get 😈

https://onlyfans.com/roaminghog

A lot of cannibals are also into hunting the most dangerous game, and I'd be stupid not to get a piece of the action. After all, I own two private islands with my resorts, with a third on the way, and it's simple to organise a hunt.

A few times a year, I'll host an exclusive experience for some exceptionally high-paying clients - for a quarter of a million a pop, they'll get a true hunters experience.

On night one, a volunteer is served, and at dawn the next day we release the first fat boy - either someone the staff have captured for the specific purpose or being hunted or, for an extra $50,000, a specific pig they have their eyes on.

This fat boy was the pool boy of one of my most frequent clients. They'd fucked a few times, but when he walked in on him fucking his son he had better ideas for what to do with his body.

Between investments, the hunts, regular visits to Isla Cerdos, and frequent dinners at my restaurants, his boss has pumped eight digits into my businesses. I might even have waived the fee, if he didn't like the power of paying to source a pig he wanted, and getting him to Isla Cerdos was as simple as having one of the chefs pose as an uber driver and drugging him.

We saved him for the last night, kept him caged to watch as one by one the others were released, hunted, and dragged back tied to a pole to be prepped, cooked, and devoured. He and the other pigs were fed well, of course - they need the energy for an entertaining hunt, and longpig is a great source of protein.

Still, he could get out of it, right? There's no fun if there's no risk, so any pig that makes it to nightfall gets to walk free.

Still, that's not to say that we hunt entirely fairly. The prey is stripped to their underwear with just the tools they can make on the way, and there's a variety of rewards up for grabs for anyone who has information that helps track him down. For staff, it's a bonus. For pigs, it's an extra day off for whatever excursions they want. For guests, it's an invitation to dinner or a 10% discount on their entire stay. Add to that the non-lethal booby traps and the fact that he's being hunted by a group of people with high-powered tranquilizer rifles and, well, no pig has ever survived the hunt and made it off the island as anything more than a few extra pounds.

We took this photo at dawn and gave him a thirty minute head start and I gotta say, he did well. He lasted a whole nine hours, even had a couple of close calls that he wiggled out of. Well, eventually he snapped a twig and then twisted his ankle while he was running away. He was still limping but the guy who paid to have him hunted got him in the ass with a dart.

He was tied to a pole and carried back to camp, then flushed out and cleaned with sea water. He struggled as he was stuffed with wild rice, native fruits and longpork from the previous night's hunt but let's face it, if you can't get away uninjured, you're going to have less luck drugged, limping, and with a bunch of cannibals holding you down while they force stuffing down your throat and up your ass. Then, it was just a matter of tying his limbs together and adding him into the stew we'd prepared - he may have been a great swimmer, but it didn't do him any good. Within a few hours that tender meat was falling off the bone, and just as delicious as he looked.

We have slots for the next hunt in March, so why not sign up? And remember, it's worth the extra expense to choose a pig of your own.

Bigger is better, right?🫃