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Background: Several of my series take place in the same "Piggysleaze Universe." The Scat Frat and A Week in Grassmore are more-or-less present day; The Hall of Pigs is set in the future. This new series looks at the past, and tells the origin story of a cabal of pig families that work to turn the world of men into rutting, perverted raunch pigs. It contains lots of raunch between males of many ages, so don't read if you don't like piss, scat, fisting, and other degenerate themes. Also do not read if 18 or younger. Email is always welcome: piggysleaze@mail.com
1928
Roy Truescat looked down from the stage and podium at the hundreds of men and boys before him. He was delivering his annual address to the membership of the Bull, Bear, and Boar club in their most beautiful and orgy-accommodating space -- the club's Great Hall. Carved dark walnut lined the walls and soared in impressive eaves above their heads, from which wrought-iron chandeliers glowed with red-tinted electric bulbs. It gave the entire room a fiery, almost hellish look, as naked flesh was bathed in red light. The walls were lined with the club's treasure trove of art, the largest collection in the world of carved cocks. Massive cocks from Roman times to long, carved phalluses from hidden jungles and far-flung villages. Beautiful dicks made from jade, coral, ebony, and more. And in a place of honor, the two ivory cocks and fisted arm that a young cabinboy had created so many decades ago aboard a whaling ship -- tracked down and placed here with pure devotion and reverence for the late Jacob and Zeke, their beloved founders.
Most of the club's members were spread out across the hall on an endless sea of bare mattresses and mats, lounging naked in clusters of families and friends. Soft leather couches, well-crafted slings, and various rimseats were dotted here and there as well, giving the members plenty of options for what was to come. Two aisles remained clear down the center, leading to swinging doors from which poured delicious smells -- the annual feast that awaited. The beauty of so much pure male flesh was awe-inspiring, bordering on overwhelming. Thin and fat, young and old, pale and dark -- all bound by a love of cock, and ass, and everything a man's pig body can produce in the name of filthy, raunch-fueled sex. Roy was already boned up and dripping, as was every man, teen, and child in the room. But tradition held, and with the exception of a few tykes who were playing with their cocklets and asses, the room refrained from sex until the annual meeting was concluded. Still, the pressure was building, as many men were vacuum pumping their cocks or asslips in preparation for the big orgy, while others lounged in ball stretchers, cockrings, buttplugs, and tit clamps.
Roy had outlined the impressive successes to date. He himself had been one of Sigma Alpha Upsilon's first graduates, and the fraternity continued to serve their cause well. Each graduating class' members were placed in positions of power and influence -- banking to oversee their nearly limitless combined wealth; agencies to steer contracts and programs; academia to train each new generation of pigs; as well as every other industry, particularly those connected in a vast spiderweb to the production and distribution of food.
And then there was the flourishing trade in drugs, pornography, and other supposedly "illicit" activities. The arrival of Prohibition in 1919 had coincided with the immigration of a particular branch of the Italian mafia, the di Cazzos. Roman di Cazzo was an elegant man with dark hair, a thin mustache, and caramel-colored skin that radiated Mediterranean sun even on New York's gloomiest days. His clothes (outside the club, of course), were dapper, colorful, and showed off his wiry, thin frame. Most importantly, he and his sons were also thorough pigs, who had embraced their burning passions for shit and enormous cocks. Given the importance of drug-fueled sex to lowering inhibitions and giving men the freedom to unlock their piggish desires, di Cazzo had readily taken the helm of these interests for the club. Hidden under the more benign patina of general bootlegging and whiskey running, the Bull, Bear, and Boar ensured men nationwide had access to a panacea of substances to fuel sex and push boundaries.
Finally, there were the heady years when they'd been able to work with TR (no one ever called him Teddy), infiltrating every branch of government, judiciary, police, and military, so that all of their activities were carefully hidden, remaining not only unquestioned, but largely unknown. This system remained in place and had only become more pervasive in the past decade. Roy thought fondly of TR's reunions at the White House with his Rough Riders, and the filthy, shit-fueled orgies that lasted all weekend. He missed the big, hung bear of a man, and gave his hard cock a little tug in spite of himself. Many were gone -- Jacob, Zeke, TR, and his own dad Harlin. But the club's mystics (yes, they had those too) and scholars believed that when dedicated filth whores died, they went to what was called "The Loophole," Satan's paradise for pigs in the afterlife. Roy trusted that right now all the men he'd known and loved were in a long, shitty fucktrain deep inside the Dark Lord's cunt.
Roy knew it was time to wrap things up. He had one final item of business. "Men, our advisors and financial wizards have suggested a major stock market crash is coming. Probably within the next year. Quietly begin to move your funds elsewhere, of course without raising suspicion or alarm. After this event, whenever it comes, we should be in a position to snap up a huge number of useful resources such as real estate, banks, farms, and businesses, so begin your preparations accordingly. Our analysts suggest you should be ready no later than October of next year. Again, that's October 1929." A murmur of ascent and understanding went through the crowd. Roy knew it would be done just as he'd asked. Their brotherhood of pigs was united that way.
With that, he picked up a heavy silver cock and struck it on the podium like a gavel, adding, "And that concludes this year's annual meeting." A roar of masculine joy and lust filled the great hall, as Roy stuffed the silver dildo deep into his waiting ass. Like his father and brothers, Roy Truescat was a beautiful specimen of a man, even in his 50s. Rugged and virile, Roy's long cock still legendary, and men loved his hairy body, now filled out with both muscle and fat. The silver cock disappeared into his shitty hole, a prize for someone later this evening.
Hearing their cue, the club's staff of hung waiters came through the swinging doors at the back of the hall, pushing ahead of them long rolling tables groaning with food. Down the two aisles they delivered piles of steaks, ribs, pork and turkey legs; pies and cakes; creams of vegetables and wet puddings along with sauces, oils, and pates. From the di Cazzos came bowls of saucy pasta and plates of pizza, that the kids seemed to especially enjoy. It was all messy, greasy food just as it should be. Hands grabbed from all sides, clutching fistfuls of sloppy food that was smeared and spread over bodies and up into waiting pig holes. The waiters were pulled down onto the floor as soon as their tables were locked into place, their holes instantly filled with cocks lubed by some messy meal item. Vats of Crisco were hauled out from the lower shelves of the tables, with hands and arms reaching in to take great mounds of the greasy stuff. Soon the room echoed with the sound of slurping fists as lubed up pigs used the mess to fill their puffy cunts.
Roy walked down the podium stairs and into the scrum of flesh. Greasy, slippery hands groped his cock and balls as he walked among the piles of men and boys, and smeared his silvery torso with the remnants of now-pulverized foods. The Bull, Bear, and Boar club was built on universal sex -- no cock was ever refused; no ass was ever turned away. Shit and piss and everything else from a man's body was a gift always to be accepted. So Roy would have happily launched himself into any of writhing and humping groups that had formed around him. But in this case, he was looking for one family in particular, who had just joined their brotherhood. He considered it his job to make the Marrons feel very welcome indeed.
He found Jose Marron sprawled on a massive bare mattress, his greasy cock encased in the cylinder of a vacuum pump, pushing into the glass with his obscenely bloated meat. His two sons, Pedro and Duro, were playfully smearing the remnants of a chocolate dessert over their bodies next to their father, writhing their ten- and twelve-year-old bodies against each other as cake and frosting coated their brown skin. Roy was reminded again of their good fortune that the Marrons were part of their pig family. Most people thought Hollywood was a city of studio moguls and movie stars. But quietly, it was Jose Marron who feed those moguls and stars their seemingly insatiable appetites for young boys. More importantly, the swarthy father of two knew how to keep secrets and to leverage those secrets when needed. He had quietly amassed a fortune that he was now giving over to the Bull, Bear, and Boar. In truth, the pedophile pig was a romantic at heart. Although his wealth came from providing young pig sex for a sizable fee, he ultimately wanted all men to enjoy the depraved relationship he enjoyed with his own sons. So here they were, joining the cause, although he knew it might ultimately put him out of business.
"Buenas Noches," Roy offered, staring down at the hot Latino daddy and his horny, hard boys. "May I join you?"
"Of course," Jose offered, spreading his legs wider to show off his puffy cunt, enormous baseball-sized balls, and bloated, pumped cock. Roy, climbed between, rubbing his own hard cock against the warm glass of the vacuum pump. He admired how Jose radiated a certain degenerate sleaze, with thinning black hair, flushed face, hairy paunch, and a gold-toothed smile that made Roy hornily imagine a man in a trench coat who regularly handed out candy at the playground. The two men ground against each other while their tongues dueled.
"Mr. Truescat, I gotta piss. You want me to piss on you and Papi?" Roy looked up to see the adorable Pedro hopping back and forth, while clutching his hard cocklet.
"Yes, Pedro, I'd like that very much. And please call me Roy. Or Uncle Roy. I'd love a couple nephews like you boys." Pedro beamed at the invitation, and wasted no time opening up his bladder. A fountain of wildly spraying piss splattered the two older men, who opened their mouths to accept the rank flow. But Pedro, like most little boys, didn't particularly aim straight and warm piss sprayed over their faces, hair, and grinding bodies. Suddenly the flow doubled as Duro joined in, waving his hips back and forth in order to firehose up and down his father and new uncle's humping figures. The brothers stuck out their tongues towards each other and fluttered them together as they pissed, their warm and sweaty bodies radiating the sweet smell of the smeared cake that covered their torsos and faces.
Jose released the valves on his pumping chamber, and moaned as he carefully slide the glass cylinder off his bloated meat. Roy salivated at the enormously swollen slab. Jose must have been pumping for hours! The sweaty dad looked at his youngest son hungrily. "Nino, I'm so raw and tender. I think Papi needs something soft and creamy to rub into this fat, swollen cock." Pedro nodded seriously, knowing he now had a very important job. As Roy rolled off to the side, he watched as Pedro strode purposefully up to his father, only to stick out his tiny little ass and pert brown mounds of boy meat. Then with a gut-churning roar that belied his tiny frame and tender age, his boicunt gaped open and expelled a stream of pure, wet, sensuous diarrhea. The liquid sludge exploded over Jose's red and bulging cock, coating it in a filthy stream of sewage. "Oh fuckin hell, my nasty boy. Fucking hot boy diarrhea all over my big, fat, juicy cock. Spray it Pedro. Coat Papi in pure stink. Pure, reeking, boy shit. Fuck yeah."
Roy looked evilly at Duro. "You gonna let your little brother show you up, amigo?"
Duro shook his head. "Fuck no, Uncle Roy," as he marched in front of the lounging pig. Grabbing his ankles, the twelve-year-old aimed his dirty hole at Roy's face. True to his word, the older boy's guts rumbled even louder and more obscenely than his brother. And then his ass opened up like the Gates of Hell and a river of sewage spewed out. The geyser of liquid boy shit splattered over Roy's panting mouth, ricocheting in all directions in a putrid rainshower of diarrhea. "Fuckin nasty shit for you Uncle Roy. Gallons of dirty boy shit. Oh god, I've got so much of it up my guts. Haven't shit for three days waiting for tonight, eatin nothing but spicy beans and papi's dumps and shit from Herc." Roy guessed that was Hercules, the family's pitbull. "Here comes some more," Duro cried, his knees shaking as he emptied his guts. "More fucking shit from my dirty cunt, sick fucker. All for you. Shit from my stinking whore cunt."
Roy was completely submerged in the firehose of filth. "Fuck yeah," he roared rubbing his hands all through the sludge and along his body. "Wearing your fucking stinking shit, boy. Nasty, wet shit from your filthy hole. Empty your guts on me Duro. I want it all." At his side, Pedro had dropped his still-leaking and sputtering hole down onto his father's lewdly bloated cock, using his liquid shit to lube its entry into his tiny boicunt. Bottoming out on the monster, he sat open mouthed and drooling, his guts still cramping and quivering around the cock as he attempted to expel his own remaining shits, which trickled out and ran in rivulets down his father's balls and along his thick thighs. The bare mattress beneath the four of them was soaked with shit and stinking like an open latrine.
Roy grabbed Duro and plopped him down hard on his own straining cock. Now he and Jose were laying in the pool of sewage, each with one of the perv dad's sons on their cocks. The two snogged their shitty faces together as Pedro and Duro rode up and down on their filth-slick rods. Piss, shit, and drool had turned their faces into slimy messes, but Roy wanted more and could sense that Jose did too. He reached up and grabbed Duro's sweaty, wet hair pulling the boy roughly towards him with one hand before taking his filthy fingers on the other hand, and jabbing them roughly down Duro's throat. His diarrhea-soaked digits probed deeper and deeper into Duro's gullet, until he heard that magical sounds of retching. "Yeah, you little fucker. Spew all over my face. I'm so wet and nasty in your liquid shit, but I want more you sick little fuck. Give me your nasty puke." With that final command, he pushed hard down the boy's throat and moaned as he began hurling. At first it was just a trickle, but suddenly, Duro's throat erupted just as his cunt had, spewing over Roy like a volcano.
"Fuck yeah, Duro," Jose shouted. "Give your Uncle Roy all that hot stomach sludge just like at home. Fucking coat him like the filthy, nasty pig he is." Then he turned to Pedro who was hungrily riding his father's cock. "You ready, nino? You gonna make daddy as nasty as Uncle Roy here?" Here Jose surprised Roy, and instead of gagging his son, he hauled back and punched him hard in his soft little stomach, while simultaneously squeezing his grape-sized balls as if he were trying to burst them in his fingers. The combined actions had the same result, and nasty puke hurled from Pedro's little mouth all over his degenerate father. Jose groaned appreciatively. All around them were similar sounds as men, teens, and boys fucked, shit, and puked by the hundreds. The room was scorching hot and stunk of pure, filthy maleness.
Both men were now coated and reeking of shit and puke, which sent them over the edge, and they began thrusting wildly up into their respective boy cunts. The children grabbed the men's nipples, yanking and tugging the slippery udders as much to hold onto the bucking broncos that they were now astride. Pedro was too far gone in the attack on his little hole, but Duro spoke for both of them. "Fuck us you sick pedo fuckers. Fuck our stinking, dripping holes with your fat daddy cocks. Wearing our shit and puke like a couple proud pigs. Fuck yeah. Feed us your cum. Pump our little, dirty cunts full of perv seed."
"FUCKKKKK," both men bellowed as they released the churning batter from their full balls. Volleys of cum poured into the tight kiddie cunts that hugged their shit-slimed cocks. Sweat poured down their faces through the layers of shit and puke that coated them both. Each boy spasmed in dry orgasm as their guts were flooded with scalding man cum, their own cocklets oozing but not yet pumping out their own loads. Soon, Roy thought in the haze of his orgasm. They'd be cumming real loads soon. He pulled Duro down to his chest, leaving his cock impaled up the child's hole. He knew Roman Di Cazzo would be around soon with some new pills that reinvigorated men quickly and often. This was just the first fuck of many tonight. Beside him Pedro had taken a similar position atop Jose. Roy reached into his own cunt and pulled out the silver cock that had been riding in there this whole time. He handed it Pedro, who began slurping the shit off it as if it were a candy sucker, looking every bit the piggy little boy he was.
Roy leaned over and kissed the degenerate father, savoring the taste of two boy's shit and puke between them. He smiled. "Welcome to the club," he said with a grin.