A lot of guys wonder what pigs get out of the chef-longpig dynamic.
After all, what the chef gets out of it is easy. Power, sex, a delicious meal, the thrill of the hunt (if they're hunters). What the pig gets out of it is far more complicated.
On the surface, the pig gets a painful, brutal, or even humiliating death, possibly following a period of ownership where they're essentially treated, at best, as servants, sex slaves, or pets.
However, the actual answer is far more complicated.
First, there's freedom. It may sound counterintuitive, but modern life is complicated. You have to worry about work, taxes, relationships, education, diets. There's a sense of freedom in giving all that up for the simple comforts of a stress-free life as an entree-to-be. You don't need to worry about a job when the man you live with is going to cook you, which also means you don't need a fancy degree. You'll never need to worry about taxes when you'll probably be nothing but leftovers by the time tax season comes around, and as for relationships... well, you'll have plenty of sex with someone who appreciates your true value, and you'll be with them for the rest of your life.
Next, it's the opportunities. Admittedly, that's dependant on owner, but I'm a strong believer that happy pigs make the best meat for the most part, so I'll usually make sure my pigs get the sort of life they want. Sure, maybe there's occasionally going to be a pig who wants to be a housepig but needs to be cagefed until they hit finishing weight, but most of the time I'll go out of my way to make my pigs happy and comfortable. If that means vacations and shopping sprees, it's all worth it to give me the sweetest meat.
Thirdly, it's flattery. Every guy out there knows they might get eaten, and plenty of them have learned to take dinner invites as a compliment. Having a chef of a high calibre is just about the biggest compliment a pig can get - it means that they're worth more than getting slaughtered in a butcher's shop or ground up for porkburgers. I make no secret that what I offer is far more painful than they'd get if they took the easy way out, but it's for a good purpose: because I know that deep down they want to be delicious. Decadent. Sure, some of them get off on the idea of getting butchered, but for most pigs they see themselves turning on a spit or roasted like a turkey in the oven, and the prospect of getting to have their meat celebrated is usually enough to get even the most reluctant longpigs interested.
Finally, there's the chance to let go. A lot of guys love the ideas of gaining, but they know it'll make them look tastier to a lot of cannibals - and make it harder for them to run if someone put them in their crosshairs. Accepting your fate means you can let go. Skip the gym and the diet options, get that second helping, eat an entire box of donuts in one sitting. They can get the body they've dreamt of, because when you know you're going to be eaten why bother obsessing over your figure?
Now, I'm all about persuasion, which is why I get the best pigs, like Bacon here. When I met him he was 50 pounds lighter, but one conversation was all it took to get convince him that coming with me was for the best, and he'd never be more content than he would be with me. After all, I'm the best chef in the business, and I could turn him into a way better meal than some amateur who bought his chops at the butchers. I could give him vacations, games, weed, food, booze, sex, whatever he wanted, and all I want is his meat. Seems like a fair trade to me. Pretty soon, pleasing me was his first thought, and he was excited for the day he could finally pay me back for my kindness.
These were taken on our way to the beach in Mexico where I took him and some other pigs for a week, and he was excited to finally get spitroasted. He may not have considered "optimal way to be cooked alive" before we met, but once he was Baby Back get that exact treatment he almost begged me to do it for him. In his eyes, it was the best way for a pig like him to get cooked, and I have to agree! He might have been a good chef, if he wasn't meant to be in the oven.
I stuffed Bacon with a churro and longpork stuffing - all the meat sourced from a favorite butcher of mine in Cancun - and covered him in a tequila lime glaze. He squealed as he was impaled, and even louder as he cooked, but I'm sure he'd be happy to know he was even more delicious than Baby Back was. In fact, he was so delicious I drew a nice juicy hiker from Austria to the campfire. He wasn't anywhere near as easy to convince, but I'm sure after a few weeks in a feeding cage and getting denutted he'll realize it's for the best.