“Just focus on the beat, just…keep on walking,” Mikey told himself as he walked the block, keeping his hands in his pockets, glancing around nervously. The day was going fine, he could…just forget about how he’d woken up that morning, on the couch…

No, best to just not worry about it, best to just get through the day. Still, how could he forget them? The tattoos covering both of his arms, the fact that his body was completely devoid of hair? He’d been able to laugh that off with the guys at the station as a bar bet gone wrong, but the tattoos…how could he explain those? And worse…he was certain they were spreading. He couldn’t be sure considering he hadn’t taken his uniform off all day, but he could feel this strange itch all over him, and the back of his hands…Just focus on the job, he only had a few more hours of his shift left, and then he could sort this all out. It was almost the weekend, he could…go get them removed or something, and his hair would grow back eventually, it would all be fine.

He was passing a shop window, and looked at himself in the evening reflection, and he stopped. His face–what was wrong with his face? He had…piercings? A huge ring in his septum, rings in his lips, bars in his ears and eyebrows, gauges in his lobes. When had that happened? How long had he been walking around with his face like this? And his neck, he could see the tattoos crawling up there as well, and he ducked into an alley to try and figure out what to do. He couldn’t go back to the station looking like this, he couldn’t go anywhere looking like this–

“Well, well–here’s our little piggy, right where we left him yesterday,” a voice said, and Mikey spun around, finding the alley blocked by a gang of skinheads, and he remembered the day before, how they’d dragged him in here, the needle, the drop of ink–

“What–what did ya do tah me…” he said, his head thickening. He couldn’t stop staring at the ringleader’s…at Ringo’s cock outlined in his bleached jeans, licking his lips, feeling his short, heavily pierced cock try to harden in his tight rubber shorts.

Ringo didn’t answer, he just unzipped his fly and let his ten inch cock flop out, Mikey dropping to his knees with a grunt and swallowing it hole, the gang’s newest sexpig, eager to taste all of their cocks before heading back to the hideout–where they’d be fisting his piggy hole all night long.

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