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Disclaimer and background: This series combines light science fiction and heavy raunch, along with a few other delicious depravities. It is extrapolated out from some of my other stories, but should stand on its own if you haven't read those. As always, do not read if younger than 18 and this work of fiction does not represent any real people (duh...it is set in the future!). Email is always welcome: piggysleaze@mail.com and especially in this case. I'd love ideas on what young Jared encounters in the Hall of Pigs!
Twelve-year-old Jared was a mess. His face was covered with runny shit and frat boy cum. Under his piss-yellowed tanktop, his chest was caked with brown handprints and streaks. His soaked jockstrap hung to the side, freeing his dripping shit-smeared cock and low-hanging balls, all proudly framed by the bejeweled steel cockring. His armpits and thick bush of pubic hair reeked of sweat and piss, and his tousled hair was matted and filthy. Thick man sewage spread like peanut butter across his exposed asscheeks. In other words, he looked and felt awesome. His young cunt had already been filled with his teacher's fist, hot Papi piss, and a massive dump of little kiddie shit right into his hole. He was halfway through his museum visit and had swallowed piss, cum, turds and diarrhea. He had cum four times in the span of about 90 minutes, each one as powerful and mind-numbing as the last. Jared felt like he should be tired, but in truth his piggy adventures were just driving him to greater levels of lust and need. He felt electric with insatiable desire. And what he desired right now as a good fucking.
Heading down to the next level, Jared surveyed the three gallery choices. He was drawn to the one on the left, where flags flanked the doors and letters in patriotic colors declared: "The Hall of Heroes -- A Salute to Our Servicemen." Jared walked up to one of the kiosks outside the hall, which was running a video loop of a waving flag. As he approached, the narration began: "We have always honored our men in uniform. Sucking the cocks and taking the loads of soldiers and sailors is a long, time-honored tradition among men. However, as the world's focus shifted to raunchy sex and filthy pleasures, the role of the military changed. As men discovered they'd rather get off with each other than fight each other, and that killing just reduced the number of holes to fuck, warfare dwindled and then disappeared entirely. In this new age of sex-fueled peace, the military became the national heroes they are today -- responding to natural disasters, fighting wildfires, building migrant orgy camps, and more. Be sure to thank a man in uniform for his service by doing whatever he wants. It is the patriotic way."
Jared didn't need any more encouragement than that and walked through the doors. Inside he saw that the museum curators had cheekily recreated an olde time servicemen's canteen. The eye for historical detail was impeccable. A banner over the bar read "Servicemen Drink and Smoke Free," and a pair of naked cigarette boys carried trays around their necks filled with packs of smokes, cigars, poppers, and glass pipes pre-filled with crack and meth. A elderly bartender was polishing glasses behind the bar, squirting in a bit of piss from his floppy cock and then thoroughly spreading it across the tumblers with a rank, urine-soaked towel. There was a stage at one end, empty now, but flanked with posters promising an authentic Tijuana-style live donkey sex show that evening, featuring "the youngest boys imaginable." The air was thick with smoke and the smell of beer, and the floor was covered in sawdust and peanut shells. But what Jared noticed most where the men.
Scattered around a few tables were eight soldiers. They were all dressed identically in heavy black combat boots and open camo fatigues from which sprouted an array of enormous cocks and balls. Otherwise, they were stripped naked from the waist up except for the dogtags around their necks. They were a mix of black, white, and latino, and all looked in their early 20s, sporting the same jarhead haircut and the same Marine Corp tattoo across their chests of the famous motto: "Semper Fuck." Jared guessed they were on shore leave and had headed here a little R&R. But what really united them was their gigantic builds.
Everyone knew that military men got to enjoy the most cutting age juicing technologies available, and every one of the eight men was a steroid-built mountain of bulging muscles and ropey veins. All sported bloated bubble roid guts that jutted from their stretched skin. They lounged about the canteen, drinking beer and smoking cigars and fatty joints. The only other civilian was a toothless old man who was on his knees in front of one of the chairs, gumming a bored looking black marine's half-hard cock. As soon as Jared walked in the door, the marine being serviced pushed the old timer off his cock and to the side, sending him sprawling across the floor. "FINALLY," the marine bellowed to the room. "Grunts, this is what we were waiting for. Come here kid."
The old man picked himself up and scurried out the door, shooting daggers from his eyes as he passed Jared. The boy just reciprocated with an "oh well" shrug of the shoulders as he crossed to the gigantic black man who had commanded him over. There was no greeting or hello; no nice kiss like the frat boy Victor had given him. The marine simply scooped Jared up off the floor like a ragdoll, holding him up by his sweaty armpits so that his legs tangled a good foot or two off solid ground. "Rodriguez," he barked to one of his fellow marines, "get this shitty cunt good and wet."
"Yes Sarge," came a reply behind Jared. He looked over his shoulder to see that a massive Puerto Rican had dropped to his knees under the dangling boy, and started eating and slobbering into his cunt. He tongued and drooled into twelve year old's hole like a dog desperate for water, turning the layered shit he found along Jared's trench into a muddy slick. He was looking at up Sarge the entire time, eyes locked on the black brute for his next command. Helplessly held aloft, Jared simply enjoyed the ministrations of the marine's long, wet tongue. He'd spotted Rodriguez's cock and it was a beauty, over a foot long and uncut, thick with smegma cheese. Jared looked forward to having it up his ass. After a few minutes of a slobbering, drool-fueled rimming into Jared's hole, Sarge nodded. Rodriguez stood up, his face slimy with spit and shit and his cock fully engorged, pointing straight to the ceiling. It was then that Sarge unceremoniously plopped Jared's hole over his fellow marine's cock, driving him down in a single shove until Jared was completely speared on the steel ramrod.
"Holy fuck," Jared cried out, as he was suddenly invaded by 13 inches of prime marine meat. Yes, he'd wanted a good fucking, but he hadn't expected the entire length and girth of such a big cock to be plunged into him in one fell swoop. He moaned in agony and bliss as he tried to adjust. But the marines weren't interested in his comfort. With the precision of a well-drilled military unit, Rodriguez wrapped his arms around Jared in a massive bear-hug from behind, just as Sarge released his grip from under the boy's shoulders. Either way, Jared was still dangling high off the floor, which allowed Sarge to come in up under him. When Jared realized what was about to happen, he started to shake and scream. "No, no, not yet. Fuck, not yet. I'm not ready. Give me a minute, guys. Just a minute."
"Shut the fuck up boy," snarled Sarge. Just as had happened with Rodriguez, the massive black man didn't bother to slowly inch his way into Jared's boicunt. He thrust up alongside his fellow marine, busting Jared's cunt ring wide open and plunging all the way up and in, until he too was bottomed out. "Don't you know marines fuck whenever, wherever, however?"
"FUUUCCKKKK, OH GOD," Jared cried, "AAHHHH fuck. Nooooo," tears streaming down his face as he tried to impossibly accommodate the instantaneous double dicking. Sarge's cock was even longer and much fatter than Rodriguez. The slobber and shit in Jared's hole provided some lube, but not nearly enough, and it felt like his insides were being ripped apart. What's more, neither marine was actually holding him anymore. Instead, they just pushed their bodies together, their enormous roid guts pressing into Jared from the front and from behind, pinning him between their distended bellies. With their fuckboi held firmly in place between them and skewered on their cocks, the two marines began pumping and grinding their rods together inside Jared's destroyed hole. He could hear the sickening sounds of their cocks getting slicker as they fucked, and he knew his torn up guts were leaking out and lubricating their double fuck with the gore from his insides. With Jared helplessly squeezed between them, Sarge used a free hand to retrieve his half-finished cigar, which he smoked down while they fucked, blowing clouds of gar stink into the boy's face. Rodriguez reached around and grabbed Sarge from behind, pulling him even closer so that Jared was pressed all the more between the roid-pumped giants, his skinny legs hanging uselessly out either side of the marine body crush. Their engorged bodies were flush and slick with sweat, almost hot to the touch, so that Jared could feel the waves of their body heat wash over him. In spite of the excruciating pain, Jared was rock hard, his own cock oozing a steady stream of precum.
The gummy old timer must have done some good beforehand because Sarge was the one to cum first. With a forceful upward thrust of his pelvis and an equally forceful downward push on Jared's shoulders, he sank even further into the boy's destroyed cunt (something Jared didn't think was possible). That's when he began firing off a dozen or more blasts of marine pig batter. Jared cried out in relief as the thick spooge provided some much-needed lube in his hole. Rodriguez grabbed the kid again for another from-behind bear hug as Sarge pulled his enormous cock out of their shared shit chute. Jared looked down in horror to see it slick with bright red and brown slime. "Walski, you're up," Sarge barked, as he flopped back down in his chair, still huffing the last bits of the cigar clutched between his teeth.
A thick, blond bruiser of a man came around to face the pinned Jared. The marine was still holding his beer bottle down by his hip. A wicked smile spread across his farmboy face as he drove his cock into the vacated space up and along Rodriguez's latin meat monster. Jared moaned, his head flopping back against Rodriguez's sweaty, rock-hard, pumped up pecs. As before, the grip around the boy was loosened as the two fuckers pushed into each other, simultaneously spearing up into their shared fucktoy. Walski immediately dove in for a slobbering makeout session with his fellow marine, completely ignoring the crushed boy below and between them as he pulled Rodriguez tighter to him. Walski took long swigs from the beer bottle before each snog so that the sudsy liquid could be drooled back and forth between them. Jared could feel the beer and spit raining down onto the top of his head and running over his face while he was being fucked.
Eventually Rodriguez hit his tipping point and a gallon of hot Puerto Rican jizz flooded Jared's insides. As before, a synchronized handoff was orchestrated by Sarge. As Rodriguez pulled out, Walski grabbed the boy and continued to pound him, keeping him hanging in mid-air while he fucked. "Jackson," Sarge called out, and a tall, eggplant-skinned black marine came up from behind. His cock slid into the mess of cum and raw meat that had become Jared's cunt. Once Jackson bottomed out, the two marines pushed towards each other, cradling the 12-year-old between their roided guts. Jackson was apparently one of the lucky pigs whose long, utter-like nipples produced milky nectar. Walski grabbed each one as they double fucked the boy, yanking and milking them so that they splattered cream all over Jared's face while he was being pounded. The hot action had gotten the canteen staff too horny to work, and the two cigarette boys were behind the bar where the bartender fucked one, then the other, then back again, all while watching the amazing display of esprit de corps taking place inside Jared's loose cunt.
And so it continued...Wolski blew his wad and was replaced by Singer. Jackson shot his load along the length of Singer's cock, only to be replaced by Wallace. And so on. Jared had counted eight marines when he walked in, but lost track of how many had used his abused hole, and how many were left to go. Over and over again he was sandwiched between the roided bodies of the two marines fucking him at any given time. Sometimes the compression between the overheated bodies was so intense that Jared couldn't breathe, and he floated to the edge of unconsciousness a few times. But with each load the pain subsided as replacement cocks found a well-lubricated tunnel to travel. The double dicks repeatedly found Jared's prostate, as initially drops and then handfuls of precum leaked out. The boy was delirious with pleasure and drunk on the cum soaking through his shit tunnel walls and into his system. Finally, he was down to the last two -- a beercan-cocked redneck named Simpson with a long stream of dip running from his mouth, and a handsome modelesque marine named Hawkeye who might have been Native American. The two hammered Jared's flopping cunt like jackrabbits, simultaneously releasing their loads into the overpacked, overstretched boicunt.
When it was over, Hawkeye was the last man holding up Jared. He pulled out his cock, and unceremoniously dumped the exhausted boy onto the floor. All the marines had gone back to drinking beer and smoking weed, chatting jovially amongst themselves about tomorrow's training exercise and where they were going to spend their final hours of liberty. No one gave a second look to the sweat-soaked boy crumpled amongst the sawdust and peanut shells. Jared felt cum freely pouring out of his hole onto the floor, enough to fill jar after jar. He felt tenderly around the ripped-open lips of his cunt, smearing the cum into them like a soothing balm. A second green gem, this one more olive in its hue than the first, lit up on his cockring; however, Jared knew the marine gangbang had cost him time. Still, he had wanted a fucking and it was the most thorough, painful, wonderful fuckings he'd ever received. He'd never been used so mercilessly and he couldn't wait for more. Still rock hard and leaking by the bucketload, Jared stumbled and wobbled to the door, cum running down his legs, leaving a trail of thick marine spunk behind him.