The rest of the men just stared at the clothes where they’d fallen in front of the pig, still kneeling on the ground. They’d all seen the pair of overalls…hadn’t they? But it was like, as they’d moved through the air they’d just…changed. It wasn’t denim anymore, but…leather, and something shiny and black. The pig licked it’s lips, eyes wide, tiny cock seeping cum, and it stood up and began to dress, moaning to himself. First, a pair of tight, rubber booty shorts– though minus the booty, allowing easy access to his hole. The leather bulldog harness next, the leather bands, flagging yellow and red on the right, of course. Then the socks and boots, and last, the collar, gaudily spiked. With a snort, Clyde ran his chubby hands over his smooth, fat body, relishing the…freedom. No one would be able to resist looking at him now, no man would be able to avoid the filthy thoughts he’d summon to their minds. He looked around, and the men surrounding him, the brutes, they were just staring at him. He knew what they wanted, what they saw. But why weren’t they taking him? Raping him? Owning him? Abusing him? It’s what he deserved, after all. It’s what they’d all been calling him.
The men in the ring were caught. On the one hand, they were all struggling to return to themselves, their old selves, though they would, unavoidably, remain warped in some way by the curse laid on Clyde. But on the other hand, their hearts and their groins were beginning to ache again at the sight of this…nasty disgusting whorepig, right there in the middle of them, just…aching to be used. They couldn’t look away from it, no matter how much they tried, watching it grope itself, knead it’s fat tits, sway it’s hips too and fro, that fat, supple ass jiggling, inviting them for another round, but they fought all the same. Some of them took a few, shuffling steps forward, before pausing. Others found themselves stroking their cocks stiff against their will, panting at the sight, but made no effort beyond merely staring. They all, instinctively knew that if the curse wanted the orgy to begin again, they would be helpless, but no…it wanted something else.
The dissatisfaction kept brewing in Clyde’s heart and soul, the men just staring at him, wanting him but it wasn’t enough. He wanted…more. More eyes, more men, to be in the midst of a crowd, to find new men to humiliate him, new men to abuse him. Even if they didn’t want to, he knew they wouldn’t be able to help themselves once they saw him, once they could see what a piggy slut he was. So he started walking, heading for the exit to the worksite. Everything that had already happened had occurred behind the relative privacy of a tall fence, but as soon as Clyde slipped out of the gate and onto the sidewalk, everyone around him simply stopped and stared. It was close to five, almost time to end the work day anyway, and the streets were crowded with men and women. The women–they didn’t even seem to notice him, but the men…every man stopped and stared, enraptured, sneering, disgusted and yet unbelievably aroused at the sight.
“Hey pig, how about you go home with me tonight? You wanna keep me warm?”
“I gotta big cock for that big mouth a yers, pig.”
Wolf calls, growls and howls, he looked over his shoulder and saw that the men from the worksite were following. They couldn’t resist him, the allure of him, and the men who saw him on the street fell into a parade. He could no longer separate out the jeers of the fuckers behind him, it was simply a cacophony of want. His booted feet kept walking, his hips swaying, putting on a proper show for them all. He…wasn’t quite sure where he was going, until he was suddenly there. The Horseshoe Tavern, down the street a couple of blocks from the worksite, where he and the other guys would often go for a few drinks after quitting time. It was a surprisingly spacious bar, with an already sizable crowd of men getting off of work, and as soon as he stepped inside, every eye swung in his direction, jaws dropped, leering up and down his body.
“Howdy boys!” He shouted, “How about we get this party started? Who wants to be the first to plow my holes?”
The men paused for a moment, and then the same thought occurred to them all at the same time. They cheered, a table was cleared, glasses thrown to the floor to shatter, and Clyde was bent over it, two men jostling for first position, hunger and confusion in their eyes, but they couldn’t resist the pig. After all, coming in, dressed like that, the thing was asking for it, right?
Bracken's Corner 