oinking – Mansploitation

The Fat Hillbilly

When Bart is invited to a rural spot in the woods, he didn’t realize he’d be servicing the hairiest, fattest and filthiest fillbilly in the state! His name is Piggie, and he loves to get/be/stay as filthy as possible. That’s just fine with Bart, who’s in for another incredible adventure in satisfying plus-size alpha males!

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Bart couldn’t believe where this day was taking him. He had only wanted to buy weed, and now here he was, worshiping the physique of one of the filthiest men he had ever met. His delicate little fingers dug into the hair-choked back muscles of Piggie Clyde, whose long greasy hair flopped onto Bart’s face.
“Oh, boy, yeah, squeeze down on it, boy, yee-haw!” Piggie inhaled deeply of Bart’s breath. He stuck out his tongue as though going to put it in Bart’s mouth, but then he just slowly licked a trail up from Bart’s jaw to his eye. Piggie’s scruffy beard scratched at Bart’s face.
This had all begun when Bart went to his weed dealer, Chapman, a thuggish heavily-tattooed trailer park denizen with a rude demeanor and a gun in his waistband. He had been scary the first few times Bart bought weed off him, but it soon became apparent he was all bark, no bite.
But today, Bart had come over to Smashwood Trailer Park and seen an excited leer in Chapman’s eyes when he came into his trailer to buy weed.
“Hey, yo’, hey, hi, oh shit, hey, you’re like… weird, right?” He spoke quickly, like he couldn’t quite form words fast enough.
“Uh… Yeah.” Bart handed over the hundred dollars and Chapman gave him two baggies, an eighth of an ounce each.
“Hell yeah, hell yeah, hell yeah,” Chapman said, drumming on his thighs like he heard music. He licked his lips nervously. “So, uh… are you like… a… I mean, don’t take this the wrong way, I just need to know… Are you like… down?”
“What?”
“I mean are you picky?”
“Uh, well…” Bart shrugged. Chapman was rather lean and hairless for Bart’s taste. Bart liked his men meaty, big and furry. “Chapman, just say what you want. You’re beating around the bush like a woman,” Bart said with his hands on his hips. “You’re handsome and all..”
“Not me! Will you let my friend cornhole you?”
“Oh,” Bart straightened up. “Who’s your friend?”
“His name is Piggie,” Chapman said. He smirked. “I mean, that ain’t his name. We just calls him that on ‘ccount of he’s real ugly.”
“You’re not tantalizing me, Chapman.”
“I mean, he ain’t ugly, ‘xactly. But he ain’t handsome. He kinda tubby. We brought him a couple whores for him and his boys, and man, she run screamin’ from ‘im. Say he got too much hair. On his back and all!” Chapman said with an exasperated cringe, as though a hairy back was unheard of. He threw his hands in the air. “He big, he work out all the time, boy, swear to God. I ain’t got no photos. He just hairy like a nasty motherfucker, got a face like a retarded hog.”
“A hairy back?”
“Yeah,” Chapman said with a sigh. “He refuses to shave it, man. He’s nasty. Sweats all the fucking time. Don’t worry, I ain’t expect you was gonna want his dick, he just wanted me to ask-“
“I didn’t say no,” Bart said. He licked his lips. Bart thought Chapman’s heftier, hairier and sweatier friend would be really arousing, and he blushed. But he also gave Chapman a look that said the real answer was yes.
“Hot damn!” Chapman said. He quickly made a phone call, bundled Bart up into his car and drove off.
Bart had to wear a blindfold. Not only was Piggie a hairy, muscle-bound, sweat-dripping hillbilly, he was a bad boy — he grew weed. He was Chapman’s supplier.
By the time they got there — wherever there was — Bart was getting carsick, so he was glad to feel the car roll to a stop. He took his blindfold off. They had been driving on dirt roads for the last mile or two. It looked like there wasn’t even a dirt road leading here; the road behind the truck was just a trail wide enough, more or less, for a truck to get through.
There was a small wooden shack with a chimney belching smoke, next to a rundown old trailer. There was a greenhouse behind that, tucked away among the trees. Bart stretched his legs and followed Chapman to the front door.
When the door opened, Bart had trouble following the conversation — Piggie was more alluring and arousing than he could have ever imagined. Chapman had described him as “ugly”, and that wasn’t exactly wrong: Piggie was not handsome by any means. He had a squat, round face with a big goofy grin, long stringy hair and a tangled beard. No women would ever describe him as handsome, but if he cut his hair (all of it) showered and cleaned up, Bart thought, a lot of women would fall for him. His face was a little crooked, like a boxer’s, with a flattened nose and cauliflower ear. He was missing one front tooth.
“Hot diggity, you brought a toy!” Piggie bellowed when Chapman explained. His sweat-dripping chest was bare, big clumps of hair plastered to his skin, and broad, strapping, chunky torso rippling with every motion he made. He wiped his fingers off on his belly, which had a substantial paunch. He had been eating something greasy, so the fat twinkled and glimmered on his skin. Piggie looked at Bart like a hungry man looks at dinner, and Bart shivered. Piggie wrinkled his nose, licked his lips and growled. “Oh shit, he move like he ready.”
“Piggie-“
“Shut up, Chapman,” Piggie said through gritted teeth.
“What’s goin’ on out there? Who is that? If it’s Mitchum, tell him to go fuck hisself.” A voice called out from the shack.
“Ain’t Mitchum,” Piggie called out, keeping his eyes trained at Bart.
“Hi, uh… Piggie,” Bart said. His voice had never sounded so weak and frail.
“Oh he got a girlish voice too. Say somethin’ else, boy.”
“I’m Bart,” Bart said, blushing. He was so nervous he thought he might faint. “It’s nice to meet you.” He held out his hand for Piggie to shake it.
Piggie lowered himself to his one knee like he was going to propose. He took Bart’s hand in his and kissed the back of it. Then he took Bart’s middle finger and swallowed it all the way down.
Chapman howled. “Ah, shit, man, he’s gettin’ romantic! He seducin’ ‘im! Damn!” He walked towards the main area of the shack, where the other men’s voices came from. His words brought those other men to the front to see what was happening however, and when they saw Piggie licking Bart’s finger, they hollered as well.
“Piggie, whatchoo doin’?”
“You ain’t say you was gonna do that!”
Bart blushed a beet-red. Piggie just kept his eyes trained on Bart, ignoring the others screaming and laughing nervously.
“Look here, boy, I don’t get a lotta girls, but lucky for me,” Piggie said, raising his deep, raspy voice to be heard over the others, “I ain’t picky. You so purtty and delicate like a girl, I can pretend you a female. I wanna make you dirty and nasty.”
“Yes. Please do, yes,” Bart said.
“Good. We gonna get real nasty.” Piggie scooped Bart up in his arms. He kissed Bart on the lips while the deep-throated hollers of the other hillbillies in the shack filled the air. “Let’s go to the greenhouse, get some privacy.”
The others didn’t follow, which Bart was glad for. He didn’t need a heckling squad while he got plowed into. When they were outside and away from the others, Piggie sighed and sniffed deeply of the woodsy air.
“Boy, it’s a nice day, I’mma stick ya out here,” Piggie said. He brought Bart to a thick log on the forest floor. He let go of Bart, who immediately planted his lips on Piggie’s chest.
The sweat flavor was intense and acrid. It brought tears to Bart’s eyes and made his dick stiffen up in his pants. Piggie must not bathe often — there was no shower here, but the other men weren’t that dirty, so Bart assumed there must have been a hose or some way to clean themselves. Or maybe, he thought, there was nothing of the sort and Piggie was dirty because he alone never left, so he never bathed.
Bart didn’t much care why though. He simply liked the filth. He licked every drop of sweat off Piggie’s chest. His tongue teased Piggie’s matted kinky hairs and slobbered over his muscles.
“How nasty is you, boy?” Piggie spat into the palm of his hand. It was a big wet load, thick and sticky. He held it in front of Bart’s face. Bart obediently sucked it right up, gargled with it and showed his full mouth to Piggie. He blushed when Piggie howled his approval. “Hot doggie, nice, boy, I swear to God, I hope you and me go to prison together sometime. We would come up wit’ all kinda ways to pass the time. We could get through a hundred life sentences in an afternoon.” Piggie whistled like a cowboy.
Bart knew he was expected to swallow his mouthful of spit, but he wanted to show Piggie that he was just as raunchy as Piggie was. So Bart dove his face between Piggie’s right arm and his chest. He plunged his mouth and his nose into Piggie’s armpit.
Piggie was confused for a moment — he was, it seemed, new to pit worship — but he then raised his arm. The fresh and fragrantly sour smell of his armpit hit Bart’s senses. It was so strong it cut through the fog and excitement of the situation, and it made Bart moan.
He lapped at the funky bundle of hair in Piggie’s armpit. There was no clear divider between his hair there and the hair on his chest. Then Bart moved to the other armpit, where he got a new fresh faceful of sweat.
“You taste clean,” Piggie said appreciatively — he rubbed his fingers over Bart’s smooth back, then sucked whatever flavor he could get off his hand. He moaned and dropped his pants to reveal a thick, uncut cock with a cheesy foreskin. The smell of his unwashed balls made Bart’s eyes water all over again. Piggie moaned. “Gonna make you taste so dirty yo’ mama don’t wanna touch you evuh again, boy.”
“Okay,” Bart said with a giggle. His tongue moved from Piggie’s left armpit around to his hairy back, and the sight of that made Bart’s dick twitch. He knew there weren’t a lot of hairback lovers out there, but he was dedicated and passionate about it. He sucked on each hair as though trying to suck it right off Piggie’s body. He left hickeys over Piggie’s meaty back muscles and he sucked the pool of sweat that had collected on the small of his back.
Piggie’s back was not just a little hairy, it was covered in hair, very nearly as much as his chest. That was just fine with Bart. The more he sucked it clean, the more aroused he was, and the more Piggie shuffled and howled. Piggie lowered himself so Bart could reach.
Eventually Piggie had lowered himself to all fours, his funky hair-choked ass sticking up high in the air. Bart knew he was going to give Piggie the nastiest rimjob ever, but he didn’t want to rush through things, so he leaned over Piggie’s hairy ass to lick the rest of his back.
That placed Bart’s bare cock over Piggie’s bare ass. Bart first angled himself to avoid actual contact because Bart didn’t want to make him so uncomfortable he stopped this rutting. But Piggie didn’t complain, not even when Bart’s dick brushed up against his hairy ass.
“Oink! Oink!” Piggie roared like a hog when he heard tittering laughter from the other hillbillies. They weren’t watching, but it looked like they kept pushing each other out the back door, trying to make each other come watch. They laughed at Piggie, who oinked and writhed like a real pig.
Soon Bart had mounted Piggie’s body to lick him all over. Piggie didn’t complain, and even moaned when he felt Bart’s cock rub over his asshole. He didn’t even make Bart get off him when the others seemed to notice that Bart’s naked body had mounted Piggie from behind, even though it must have looked like Bart was about to sodomize Piggie instead of the other way around. They laughed, then went back inside.
“I bet you know where to lick next,” Piggie said as he lifted his head, making Bart slide down his chunky back.
Bart giggled and stuck his tongue out. He planted it right on Piggie’s back, over his spine, and kept it there as he lowered himself down Piggie’s back. He landed on his knees right in front of Piggie’s ass and rammed his head in there, between those awe-inspiring cheeks.
They were big and plump and juicy and round and covered with dense, kinky hairs. The taste was foul, the sweat cloying, the skin moist and filthy, and Bart loved every bit of it. He groaned and moaned as he slathered spit all over each cheek, then rammed his face into Piggie’s crack.
“Oh fuck yeah, get ya tongue in there, boy, deep in there…” Piggie groaned.
Bart lapped at his asshole. He loved giving rimjobs to hairy men, and Piggie was one of the hairiest. Bart had to push through a dense forest of hair to get to his tight hole, and the taste was so musky it made Bart gag — not in a bad way, he loved it. He savored the salty, sour, biting flavor and let it fill his mouth.
“Get ya face up here, boi, lemme paint it,” Piggie said. He didn’t wait for Bart to do so, he turned himself around and spat again on Bart’s face, a big stinky wad of saliva. Then he sat on Bart’s face, rubbing his hairy ass all over. “Get covered in it, boy, hell yeah, you turn me on so much it hurts…”
The fresh spit awakened the flavor of Piggie’s ass, which spread to cover Bart’s face. Bart plunged his tongue right into Piggie’s tight hole, which tasted funky and potent. He sputtered. He flickered his tongue within Piggie’s body, making Piggie’s entire meaty frame shake. Every motion he made caused his asshole to tighten around Bart’s tongue.
Soon Piggie lifted himself up and lowered himself again, plowing into himself with Bart’s tongue. Bart had always been good at rimjobs because he had a preternaturally long tongue, which he used to good effect inside Piggie’s body. He teased Piggie’s prostate, making his face turn red and his muscles all tense at once.
“Ah, yeah, you gonna make me oink, boy!” Piggie said with a roar. He did oink, though Bart would have never realized he intended for it to sound like an oink if Piggie hadn’t said so. It was more of a eurwh sound, as Piggie’s muscles writhed and his asshole clenched around Bart’s tongue.
The tastes and scents of Piggie’s ass were so overwhelming that Bart was dizzy. He was groggy and only barely aware when Piggie finally pulled away, and bright light hit Bart’s eyes.
“Oh yeah, you look good and nasty,” Piggie said. Mud dripped from his elbows where he had been leaning in the dirt. He leaned down and licked Bart’s cheek, slurping up all the assjuice and spit that dripped down his skin. Piggie shuddered and gagged, but smacked his lips like he loved the taste. He licked Bart again and again, lapping at his face.
Then, all in one smooth motion, he jabbed his dick into Bart’s mouth. Bart’s throat spread open as Piggie ignored his resistance and slammed his manhood all the way down. Piggie pounded on his chest and again let out that moist oink-like sound.
“Gonna get all up in ya belly, boy… Gonna go at ya till you can’t take it…”
All Bart could do was choke and submit. He grasped Piggie’s plump asscheeks, then fingered Piggie’s ass — Piggie didn’t complain even when Bart rammed two fingers in there. Piggie grunted and twisted like it hurt, but he also gasped, moaning, groaning and writhing with the pleasure roiling his muscles. He gripped Bart’s head with both hands, plowing into Bart’s throat and making him cough up saliva and precum in big clumps.
Lack of oxygen made Bart remain dizzy as he endured Piggie’s passionate throat-humping. Every few seconds, Piggie pulled out of Bart’s mouth, kissed him on the lips and licked all the mess up off his face before resuming.
“Ah, boy, you make a nice cumsponge, I reckon you was built fo’ that,” Piggie said. “I know it ain’t in the Bible, but that’s my theory.” He groaned and held onto Bart’s head, his dick all the way in Bart’s throat. Bart squirmed and gagged, choking up big gobs of spit which he caught in the palm of one hand.
Piggie saw the spit and precum that collected in Bart’s hand. He removed his dick long enough to let Bart take one hoarse, loud breath while Piggie bent down to suck all the messy soup off Bart’s hand. He showed off that mouthful of fluids and let it run down his grimy chin.
“I love nastiness,” Piggie said as he chewed on the mouthful of fluids. It made him gag and spill out over his chin, where his skin was dirty enough that the juices left a trail of seemingly-clean flesh. “And, boy, you got all the right kinda nasty.” His voice was moist and hard to understand, but Bart picked up every word.
Bart bent down to kiss Piggie’s feet. They were covered in mud and clumps of dirt, and his feet were hairy like a hobbit’s. Bart giggled as he sucked on each toe. Piggie loomed over him like a Greek god — a filthy, muddy, rut-scented hillbilly Greek god — and lifted up his feet to let Bart get them clean all up and down.
Both men were on the verge of orgasm by the time Bart bent back over that rotting log, which had partially collapsed due to the weight of both Piggie and Bart weighing it down. He lowered his head to near the dirt, and lifted his ass high in the air.
“Boy, you look good in that position. Now you make a sound like this as I stick ya,” Piggie said. He made that loud soo-eee farmer’s call and laughed when Bart’s lilting feminine voice made the same sound. Piggie slapped Bart’s asscheek. “Gonna make you so nasty, boy, shit…”
“Ram it in me… Soo-Eee!” Bart grunted as Piggie jammed his dick in his ass. Just like in his throat, Piggie was crude and merciless — exactly how Bart liked it. Pain bloomed in his tight ass, but only for a few seconds.
Then Bart’s prostate came alive and tingled, sending waves of pleasure up Bart’s spine. Bart tensed up, which made Piggie laugh and lower his chest onto Bart’s back. He pinned Bart against the rotting log beneath him.
“You feel me in you, boy? Huh? Lemme hear ya voice,” Piggie said. His chest rumbled against Bart’s spine, his chest hairs scratching at Bart’s smooth skin. His deep voice echoed, aimed directly into Bart’s ear, making him writhe, which in turn caused Piggie to laugh. “I see you movin’. That’s cuz I make ya feel good, right? Say it. Say it, boy, lemme hear you say it.”
“You make me feel good…” Bart said, but his voice was very weak because his mind was focused on the intense array of sensations emanating up from his asshole. Piggie didn’t stop to listen to anything Bart said anyway, he just kept plowing and talking directly into Bart’s ear.
“You gon’ be real nasty, you gonna be like a pig in slop when I’s through wit’cha. You ain’t nevuh gonna be clean again. Is it worth it?”
“Yes…” A few tears rolled down Bart’s cheek. He wasn’t crying from any emotion, just from the potency of the feelings that wracked his body.
“Girls don’t evuh lemme treat ‘em like this,” Piggie said. “They wanna be princesses. I want to start ‘em out like princesses, and then grind ‘em into the dirt. Then they be a princess of raunch. You like that? You wanna be my raunch princess?”
“Yes!”
“Good, you nasty, you real nasty. You wanna taste how nasty you is?”
“Yes!”
Piggie didn’t stop plowing, but he did lower one of his hands to rub his own cockshaft. As it slid in and out, he got his hand full of Bart’s assjuice and Piggie’s own nearly-orgasmic precum. Grimy, gritty fluids dripped from his callused hand, which he placed in front of Bart’s face.
It tasted so foul Bart wanted to gag — he couldn’t do anything more than sputter because Piggie’s sweat-soaked body pressed down on his back — but Bart tried to lick every corner of Piggie’s hand. Piggie licked it too, and their tongues combined over the gooey filth that dripped over Bart’s face. Piggie licked that off too.
“Shit, boy, I wish I could fill a tank wit’ my nastiness and we could go swimmin’ in it… I could just dip you in there e’ry day.”
As they both neared orgasm, Piggie wrapped both of his arms around Bart’s delicate frame. He rolled over like they were wrestling, and he laid on his back. The movement and the bouncing when Bart landed on Piggie sent sharp stabbing pains through Bart’s asshole.
But that lasted only a moment. With Bart on top now, he was in control of the plowing, and he rammed his own body up and down. He was so focused on that that he barely noticed Piggie gripping Bart’s dick and stroking it off as they both plowed into there.
“Fillin’ you up now, boi, fillin’ you up wit’ my babies… Gonna get yo’ ass pregnant…” He laughed as his orgasm ripped through him.
Cum sprayed into Bart’s asshole, a bit and creamy hot load that filled Bart’s body. Bart sighed. He leaned his head back and sucked moisture off Piggie’s hairy chest, while he endured what felt like an endless orgasm within him.
His prostate sang and exploded, as Piggie’s dick teased him, spurting out wad after wad of thick cum, which slipped out and down Bart’s cheeks. Bart came too, Piggie’s hands stroking him off until he had covered his chest and belly with juice.
“Ah shit, yeah, hell fuck!” Piggie screamed. He desperately held onto Bart as though any motion might ruin the orgasm. He breathed through gritted teeth. Bart was utterly motionless, the pleasure wafting through him gradually shifting to pain as his body adjusted. Piggie growled. “I bet you know what to do. Get yaself nasty, boy.”
Bart giggled. He slid off Piggie’s cock and sighed as a wave of tremendous relief hit him. His asshole was tender and sore, but it still sent twinges of bliss through his body. Bart didn’t gag when he tasted his own ass on Piggie’s cock. He slapped himself over the face with that limp slab of meat, and he covered himself in remnants of Piggie’s cum.
“I like how you look wit’ juice all over ya face…”
He didn’t stop there. Bart licked all the way up Piggie’s crotch to his belly, and he licked up every drop of sweat and juices there. He used his hand to wipe his own load off his chest, and smeared it over his face.
“Wait, lemme see that,” Piggie said when Bart was done. He smiled sickly as he looked at Bart’s face, which was covered in layers of sweat, spit, cum and assjuice.
A loud retching sound and some hushed laughter filled the air. Chapman and the others had crept forward to watch. They had been blushing and daring each other to come closer for some time, but Bart had been so overwhelmed he didn’t notice. They all gagged and cheered at the same time when Piggie stuck his tongue out and licked all those juices off Bart’s face.
“Damn, Piggie, you nasty!”
“No wonder that whore wouldn’t fuck you, Jesus Christ, you are gross!”
But Piggie just laughed and leaned back in the mud. He hugged Bart close to his burly barrel chest, which Bart rested his head on. This had been such an incredible and exciting experience that he was exhausted as soon as it was over, even with those men laughing loudly.
Soon Bart was sound asleep, curled up on the broad hairy chest of Piggie, who frowned but didn’t remove Bart. He just got Chapman to bring him a joint to smoke, and he laid there while Bart slept. The funk of Piggie’s body made Bart’s eyes water while he slumbered, but he didn’t mind at all.
The smell just made him horny, so when he woke up, he was ready to go again. By then Chapman had left. So had the other hillbillies, and Piggie had carried Bart into the shack so gently Bart didn’t wake up.
“It’s just you and me, boy,” Piggie said. He stuffed pork cracklings into his mouth. He smiled. “We gonna have a little honeymoon. Not honey, that ain’t right. We gonna have a dirtmoon. You like that?”
“Yeah.” Bart said. “I can’t wait.”

The Raunchy Trucker

Elton is in for a raunchy experience, when he accidentally goes into an anything-goes cruising showerhouse at a truck stop, so a bevy of the filthiest, nastiest truckers around make Elton as disgusting as possible. Can Elton make it out of there?

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

At the Ramwide Truck Stop near Tuscaloosa, Alabama, Elton didn’t notice a small placard on the door. He had pulled over to use the bathroom — he drove a four-door sedan, not a truck, but he had to piss real bad and he was a frequent visitor to other truck stops. He hoped to both drain his bladder and maybe get a nut off in the showerhouse. Ramwide Truck Stops were notorious cruising spots, full of nasty men who didn’t mind jerking off another fellow.
That was good for Elton, who was single now and sometimes needed a little release. Plus, he needed to piss.
The placard he ignored said ‘This building is for adults-only, and it is a free-for-all. If you go in here, you are signaling your consent to anything that occurs in this building. There is another showerhouse nearby without this sign.’ Elton would have gone to the other showerhouse if he’d known it was an option or if he’d seen the placard.
But he didn’t see it. He didn’t even realize it was a showerhouse until he went in, he assumed it was simply a bathroom. His Ramwide Truck Stop — the one near his house — didn’t have two showerhouse options. There was just one, and there was usually some mincing pervert in there jacking off men. The parking lot of this truck stop was filled with semis. Maybe that was the difference between the two truck stops, the one by Elton’s house didn’t see many actual truckers, it was just a pit stop for ordinary drivers. This one only really saw truckers come through. The non-truck area of the parking lot was tiny, and Elton’s car was the only one there.
Elton did not realize any of that. He didn’t even see the placard, much less read it and heed it. He entered the anything-goes showerhouse.
There was a large, wide open showering area with those old-fashioned pillar showers, the entire inside looked old-fashioned, Elton thought, like something out of an early twentieth century dormitory shower. A dozen naked truckers stood among the showerhead-pillars, silently staring at Elton. They were hairy and burly, decked with muscle like bulls, nostrils flaring as they looked him up and down.
He nodded and blushed. He considered leaving because the men made him uncomfortable, but he thought it would look weak. He’d be humiliated even if no one but he and these truckers knew about it. He went to the trough urinal. He always hated those — he was sensitive about his cock size — but luckily no one else was here.
But the truckers were staring at him. He could tell. They were completely silent, but he knew they weren’t silent before he walked in. That meant they had stopped talking to watch him. If he had known about the sign, he would have surely fled.
It was one of those truckers who joined him at the trough, before Elton could even start concentrating on peeing. A man had followed him in, a burly trucker with a rough-and-tumble mustache, a very small gut and bulging shoulder muscles that were bared by his sleeveless shirt. He went by the name Manky, and on his face a lifetime of brawling left remnants in the form of his crooked, squat nose and off-kilter chin.
He whipped out the most massive dong Elton had ever seen. It was thicker than Elton’s forearm and longer than his feet. Manky wasn’t shy about it, and he stood right next to Elton even though he had plenty of room at the trough. He flopped his dick left and right.
“Whatchoo think?”
Elton blushed intensely. He had always been embarrassed about his dick size. It was just barely three inches long fully erect, and it was much shorter right now because it was a chilly day (though warm in the showerhouse) and he was scared. It shriveled up even as he looked down at it, wishing he could pee.
Manky aimed his dick at Elton’s dick and let his piss stream. He laughed when Elton jumped away, and he aimed his piss at Elton instead.
“You got a small dick, boy. Somethin’ wrong wit’choo?”
“No…”
“Well then you made a real mistake comin’ in here,” Manky said. “Get in the trough.”
“What?”
“Lay down in there. Now,” Manky said. He grabbed Elton and tossed him against the wall.
Elton yelped, and he looked around frantically for a way out. The truckers surrounded him, and he’d have to pass through a dozen of them to make it to the door. That was the only door too. There weren’t even any windows in this showerhouse except a couple narrow slits up near the ceiling. Elton would need a ladder to get up to them, and even then he probably wouldn’t fit through them.
That trucker Manky laughed, along with the others, at the terrified look on Elton’s face. Manky grabbed him again, and he threw him into the urinal trough. The stainless steel was sticky, and it was rank with the smell of piss. Elton instantly gagged. The acrid smell hit his nostrils and made his eyes water.
“Please, wait, stop!”
He punched Elton hard in the belly, hard enough to hurt, though the angle was off for Manky to punch as hard as he could. It was enough to knock the wind out of Elton. All the watching truckers guffawed. Elton writhed, gasping for air, as Manky let his hog loose and aimed it at Elton in the trough.
For a moment, nothing happened. Elton wondered if this was it, maybe it was a prank and Manky just wanted to teach him a lesson, to show that he could put him in the urinal trough and piss on him. Maybe now he’d let Elton go.
But no, Manky was serious. He sighed and let out a crooked smile when he began urinating. Piss flowed over Elton’s shirt and soaked into his skin. The bitter taste of it hit Elton’s senses, even though he shut his lips. The truckers howled from all around the showerhouse, and one of them came running.
He was a lanky mustachioed trucker with tattoos covering his hairy chest and a big swinging dick. He started pissing even before he got to the trough. “Hot damn, a ppissy piggie!” He sprayed his piss right in Elton’s gagging face, and he started making oinking hog-like noises. Manky hadn’t even finished pissing yet, so now Elton had two streams of hot urine landing on him.
“Oink! Oink!”
Elton sputtered and screamed, the truckers in the shower at the other end all coming over to watch. Then, before the first one had even begun, they all began pissing as well. The acrid urine washed over Elton’s face and soaked into his clothes. His mouth filled and overflowed with it.
“Oink, oink, pervert! Ya fuckin’ suit, comin’ in here like the pussy you is! You deserve this, piss-face!”
The oinks filled the air and resonated in the linoleum-tiled shower. It was deafening to Elton, who yelled and sobbed. He had no idea how long it lasted. It felt like he was drowning, like that piss filled his lungs. He kept trying to crawl out of the trough, but Manky shoved him back in over and over.
But finally it was done, or seemed to be — those two truckers were finished urinating. A few men showered on the other side of the showerhouse, chatting about football, as though they didn’t notice or care what was happening to Elton. Elton weakly climbed out of the trough only for Manky to shove him back in.
“C’mon, please-“
“Nah. You my piss-piggy. Our piss-piggy,” Manky said. He chuckled. “You don’t get out til I say you can get out.” He licked his teeth and looked Elton up and down. “Alright, you can get out.”
Elton thought maybe that was it, but Manky grabbed him by the hair and dragged him out of the urinal trough. His skin was soaked with piss. Manky didn’t seem to care about the urine getting everywhere. Elton screamed, but the sound of the men talking, oinking, showering, carrying on, all that overpowered Elton’s screams. Even someone walking directly past the showerhouse, like three feet from where Elton was right now, wouldn’t be able to tell that someone was screaming in here.
“C’mon piss piggie, you really did it now. I hope you love being a raunchy little bottom,” he said. “Actually scratch that. I hope you ain’t love it. I like making piss piggies squirm.”
He shoved Elton to the ground on his belly, then squatted behind him and rammed his cock — still only half-hard — into Elton’s ass. Elton screamed, and the truckers resumed their oinking.
“Oink, oink, little piggie! You came in the wrong shower fo’ sho’!”
The pain in his ass was indescribably intense, and it had only just begun. Elton wanted to writhe in agony, but Manky kept one hand on his scalp and one on the back of his neck, forcing him to remain in the same position, flat on his belly. Manky pounded his cock into him.
He grunted and hissed in Elton’s ear. His skin was tan and dirty, he smelled like car exhaust, or like diesel fumes. He had a hairy chest, and the fur scratched at Elton’s back as Manky’s muscles weighed him down.
Someone turned the showers on, so lukewarm water sprayed over Elton’s face. As least that, he thought cleaned off some of the piss. That hadn’t slowed down Manky, whose grimy face suggested he had never cared about cleanliness — as he rutted like an animal, he licked Elton’s cheek, nibbled on his ear and felt up every inch of his piss-covered body. Oink! Oink! Elton cried into the linoleum as Manky humped his dick into full erection.
“Don’t worry, lil piggie, I can make you open up…”
Whenever he encountered resistance, he punched Elton in the ribs, resulting in so much pain that Elton loosened his ass. At last Manky’s massive cock was rock hard, ramming into him. He had Elton in a tight hold, both of his hairy arms wrapped around Elton’s chest.
Elton couldn’t help but squirm, even though he could tell that was exactly what Manky wanted. Elton sobbed into his greasy forearms. He even bit down, but Manky seemed to be impervious to pain.
“That piggie got a dick like a pinkie! A pinkie-piggie!”
They rolled over the floor of the showerhouse. One moment Manky was on top, slamming his hips down into Elton’s as though he wanted to shatter it like glass. The next moment, Elton was on top, looking up at the ceiling and trying to get some leverage to pull away.
“Little dick, little pig!” the truckers chanted over and over. They started off jacking themselves off as they watched Manky cornhole Elton, but that soon changed into a circlejerk. They laughed and giggled like children — hairy, tattooed children — as they stroked each other’s fat cocks.
“Please… stop… why?”
“Hey, hey, shut up for a second,” Manky said, yelling for silence. He still had to shout to be heard over the showerheads that continued to spray lukewarm water, but the naked truckers stopped chanting. Manky grabbed Elton’s hair to bring his face up, so everyone could see it. His other tattooed forearm was pinned against Elton’s neck, his foot long cock throbbing in Elton’s guts. Manky kissed him on the ear. “This oinker wants to know why this is happenin’. Who wanna explain?”
One of the truckers stepped forward. He was a hefty man, hairy from head to toe, with long black hair. He looked like he might have some trace of Mexican heritage.
“Alright, little piss-piggie, here’s the deal,” he said. “My name is Skullhole. That ain’t my proper name, in case you was wonderin’. It’s uh… it’s what my prison bitch used to call me.” As he talked, he fed his dick into Elton’s throat. It was already hard because he had been circlejerking with the other truckers, and he leaked precum directly down Elton’s throat.
“Listen up, piss-piggie, pay attention. It’s important,” Manky said, pulling tighter on Elton’s hair to get his attention. Pain blistered up and down Elton’s body.
Skullhole continued. “You’s in the left-hand showerhouse at an Ramwide Truck Stop. They’s sometimes got two men’s showerhouses. One of ’em’s got a sign that say it’s, uh… Sort of a free-for-all. You give up yo’ right to say no by stepping foot inside this showerhouse. It’s a place for real men, men who wanna blow a load but don’t wanna worry ’bout liberal bullshit like consent.”
In one quick motion, Skullhole pulled away from Elton and punched one of the other, younger truckers in the belly. The younger man fell to the ground and groaned. Skullhole grabbed his hair and his neck and bent him over as though he was going to cornhole him just like Manky was doing to Elton.
“Hey, get off me, asshole!” the younger man said, squirming. Skullhole’s hard cock throbbed between his cheeks, but he made no effort to penetrate him.
“See? I could cornhole this young’un right here. I would too, cuz he got a pretty ass, but his daddy is a good man. I owes him a favor,” said Skullhole. He paused. “I will stick my finger in a little, just to make sure he don’t forget I could cornhole him anytime I want.” He rammed one of his fingers in the young man’s ass.
“Get ‘im, Skullhole!”
The young trucker let out an agonized howl, and he squirmed away from Skullhole, who let him go. Then he came back to Elton and rubbed his finger off on Elton’s tongue. The taste of foul asshole and grease hit his senses, making Elton’s eyes bug out. Elton gagged vociferously, even moreso when Skullhole slipped his cock back in.
True to his nom du guerre, Skullhole grabbed ahold of Elton’s head. He rammed his cock down Elton’s throat, ignoring resistance, banging and using all of his weight to get his dick in.
It felt like something in his throat was going to break, but somehow Elton’s gullet stretched to accommodate. Skullhole’s massive dick visible pressed against Elton’s neck from the inside.
“We gonna drown that bitch in cum!”
Skullhole shot a massive load, spraying it so deep in Elton’s throat he didn’t even really taste it. It wasn’t until Skullhole pulled his dick out that Elton tasted a burst of salty cum on his tongue. That massive cock flopped out of his mouth and roped around on his face, leaving a sheen of jizz and spit and who-knew-what fluids.
“Damn, his dick really is little-bitty. That’s basically a clitoris, bitch.”
“Don’t say that, man, I wouldn’t never do none of this to no female. He better be a man.”
He heaved hoarsely for breath. He was dizzy, both from the pain and from lack of oxygen. He was too tired even to cry anymore. He sat submitted limply to Manky’s plowing while he watched the truckers circlejerk above his head.
When the first trucker came, a hefty white man with long black hair and swarthy skin, he stepped forward just as he started moaning. He blushed as his trucker buddies laughed, and his tattooed muscles flexed in rolling waves.
He sprayed his cumwad right on Elton’s open mouth. Elton wanted to look away, but the pain in his ass was so intense he couldn’t bear to. He cried as cum sprayed over his face.
“Here they go, piss-piggie with the li’l prickie,” Manky said with a moan as he pulled his dick all the way out, then slowly reinserted it only when Elton’s asshole lost its numbness. That revitalized the pain in Elton’s ass. His entire body felt like it was tearing apart from the inside out.
More cum sprayed onto his face. He couldn’t even see what was happening anymore, he just felt cum covering him. It was hot and creamy, and it dripped all over him. The truckers didn’t seem to mind getting it on them — which confused Elton, because they talked like he should be humiliated for getting cummed on, but all of them got cummed on too! A lot of the younger truckers disliked circlejerking like this. They had to stroke each other’s greasy hogs. Even just after the shower, most of them remained slick and unclean-feeling, at least to those who weren’t used to it.
To Elton, it all seemed gross. He couldn’t imagine why they were calling him a pervert over and over when he was the only one not willingly participating. They were the perverts, he thought, but even if he could say that out loud right now, nobody was paying attention to his desperate pleas or his cries for help. They jacked each other’s meat as though it was going out of style, and they rubbed their dicks in each other’s cumwads on his face. Manky even got some cum on his hands and face, but he shrugged it off.
The truckers popped off like flies, coating Elton’s face in cum. Manky kept Elton’s head out of the shower water for the most part — he rammed so wildly he slid Elton all over the showerhouse — so the cum collected on his face, along with grime from the floor and spit which Manky continually spat onto Elton’s lips and nose.
Finally the truckers were all done. Huge gobs of cum dripped off his face. He could feel it seeping into his flesh. He knew he’d smell like a cumrag for days no matter how much he cleaned himself. One hairy trucker rubbed his balls over Elton’s face, collecting all of his buddies’s cum so it clung to his unkempt nest of ball-hair.
“Lick it clean, piggie!” He barked over and over.
Elton thought cum had tasted bad, but it tasted even worse when it was mixed with sweaty trucker balls and remnants of soap. The cum coated his tongue and made the salty sweat cling to the inside of his mouth. He struggled not to bite down — he knew that would give him a moment of satisfaction, but he’d probably be killed.
Finally that last brawny trucker walked away, dragging his saliva-dripping balls over Elton’s face. Pitiful weakling. They cackled and clasped each other on the back, repeatedly slapping each other’s asscheeks too. Skullhole even rammed his finger back in the younger trucker’s ass as they walked away from Elton. He wiggled his finger but didn’t stop the younger trucker from scampering away.
“Get the fuck off me, Skullhole, damn…”
“Shut up, li’l one. I still got enough nut in my balls to turn you into my next pussy.”
“Hey piss-piggie, if you stick around we’ll be back in a little while. We’ll ram you in the ass if you want.”
“Or if you don’t.”
“Yeah. If you don’t, we’ll ram you even harder.”
Elton sobbed, his lower half numb now as Manky finished. Elton could feel the orgasm rippling over Manky’s hairy muscles, which weighed down Elton’s back. Manky punched Elton even though he wasn’t resisting. He punched just to make Elton yelp and squirm some more.
“Lemme hear it…” Manky said with a loud moan that made the truckers applaud. He pointed to different spots above Elton’s crotch and around his hips. “Where you think my orgasm is? Huh? Lemme hear it when I point to where you feel it. Huh? Boy? What’s goin’ on?”
The agony was too intense for Elton to speak. He screamed into the linoleum the best he could, but Manky’s belly and chest pressed him down. That made it impossible for him to take a deep breath.
“My orgasm is e’rywhere, boy,” he said with a long, low growl aimed right in Elton’s ear. That made Elton shudder, which in turn sent a shiver of sensitive pain from his sphincter, which clenched.
Cum sprayed into Elton’s ass. It was hot and thick and it seeped into his flesh. He wept into the filthy shower floor. It was so much, it kept coming, wad after wad as though Manky was pumping it in from a reservoir. It stank already, and Elton gagged at the sensation.
“You fillin’ ‘im up now?! Lemme watch!”
A few of the truckers came over and peered just inches from Elton’s asshole. They wrinkled their noses as though they were disgusted, but they still watched intently, like scientists who had no idea how this worked.
“You one nasty-ass truck stop piggie now, bitch.”
But eventually they lost interested. Manky remained atop Elton, his dick so deep it felt like it touched every part of Elton’s innards. Every time Elton moved so much as a breath, it made his asshole ache more. Manky breathed heavy. Elton couldn’t tell if he was still cumming — which seemed impossible — or if it just felt that way because he wiggled has limpening cock, moving cum around and turning it into a frothy mess that spilled out of his ass. It coated Elton’s thighs and soaked into the linoleum floor. Since there was water on the floor, some of that santorum mess floated to Elton’s face and coated him. He tasted his own ass along with the ball-sweat, cum, saliva and more that already covered him.
The truckers filed out, still only half-dressed. They were spent, so they no longer cared. Moments later the sound of their engines roaring filled the air. Elton tried to get up, but Manky was on top of him.
“Damn, piss piggie, that was good,” Manky said with a sigh. The shower was very quiet now that the truckers were gone. Manky’s deep voice was right next to Elton’s ear, so it boomed and echoed.
“Please, get off me…” Elton sobbed.
“If you make it back out that door, you’ll be under the protection of the law,” Manky said, “So I really hope you don’t. I hope you stick around until I’m ready to ram you again.”
He burped into Elton’s face. He lifted his chest up off Elton’s back and ground his dick into Elton’s ass, moving it in a tortuous circle. Elton screamed and gagged intensely now that he could breathe. Manky punched him right in the meaty part of the back, over and over as he finished the after shocks of his orgasm.
Only then did Manky slowly back up so that his fat cock plopped out. “But I’m not gonna stop you from walkin’ out that door, unless you take a long time to get out there. I wanna give you a fair chance. Don’t nevuh say I was all bad, piss-piggie. And goddamn, if that’s the only dick you got, you shouldn’t nevuh whip it out among real men. A man with a cock like that is just beggin’ to get cornholed.”
Elton had to crawl away. When he tried to stand his ass hurt too bad. It took what felt like eons but then he made it to the door as Manky still talked. It was so heavy he strained to open it.
He stumbled outside, stark-naked, and ran into another massive trucker, like Manky but taller. Behind him were a handful more, all with sick smiles on their hairy faces.
“Fuck,” one of them said. “He made it out.”
“We’re too late.”
“Damn it!”
“I’m rammin’ one of you, I swear to god. I am not letting myself get blue-balled again.”
Elton’s naked body gleamed with cum and water, and he pushed through the dirty bodies of the men. They smelled awful too, just like the truckers, but Elton was covered in so much filth he didn’t notice. He just sobbed and staggered forward. They glared at him and muttered insults about his cock size, but Elton didn’t care. He collapsed onto the ground. He might look like a pussy right now. He admitted that. He no doubt looked like a weakling, and his ass hurt so bad he wasn’t sure he’d ever walk normally again.. But he just didn’t care about any of that.
He had made it. He was free.

The Cop

Desmond has long heard tales of the cruel cop known as Officer Awful, but Desmond can’t wait to experience the kind of punishment Awful metes out! He likes to make men bend over and take it, which is exactly what Desmond craves.

Can Desmond handle the punishment Officer Awful has in store?!

Read it now as an ebook!

Or read the whole thing here!

Desmond staggered down the road, pretending to be drunk. Well, partially pretending. He was drunk, just not extremely drunk. He staggered like he was extremely drunk. He’d had a few drinks to settle his nerves, which didn’t work. His heart raced. He had never done anything quite like this before. The city was quiet but bustling in the early evening. Desmond stood out both because he appeared to be drunk and because he was the only black man here.
Sure enough, the first part of his plan worked: Desmond saw the police car pull to a stop, and Officer Auffernan got out. He was tall and strapping, his broad shoulders barely fitting into the uniform shirt he wore. He was both a literal and figurative redneck, his tan skin having a ruddy hue from working outside. He had a military crew-cut, but his hair was a dark blond so it almost looked like he had a bald head.
“Young man, come here,” he said. He sounded both bored and aggressive, and Desmond shivered in anticipation.
He smiled, dropping the drunken act. “What seems to be the problem, officer?”
“You drunk…?” Auffernan asked, eyebrows furrowing as he realized mid-question that Desmond no longer seemed drunk.
“No, sir. But you can charge me with public intoxication if you want.”
He chewed on his lip. He looked like the kind of man who was not often surprised during the course of his work and didn’t much like it now that it had happened. “What’s yer game, boy?”
The way he drawled out the word boy made Desmond shiver again. This time it must have been obvious that it was sexual, and Auffernan bristled. Desmond felt cold and small, and he had to resist the urge to grope Auffernan’s broad chest right now, here in public.
“I probably shouldn’t say in front of all these people,” Desmond said. There were a few onlookers on the other side of the street. No one was close enough they could hear, but it certainly wasn’t private.
“I feel like you wastin’ my time, boy. So I’m gonna put you in handcuffs for now and take you down to the station. I’ll figure out why later,” he said. He slapped cuffs on Desmond, whose dick burst into life when Auffernan’s hands gripped his wrists.
As soon as he was in the back of the cop car, Desmond caught a whiff of leather and sweat and uniformed musk. He took a deep breath before Officer Auffernan got in the front seat and drove off.
“Well, boy, out with it. What ain’t ya wanna say in public?”
“I’ve heard you… sometimes take young black men and have your way with them, and-“
“You one of them Black Lives Matter folks?” He looked away from the steering wheel, frowning at Desmond.
“No, sir.” Desmond’s heart nearly pounded out of his chest. “I was hoping you’d have your way with me.”
Auffernan paused, then let out a long, booming laugh. “Well, boy,” he said. “First of all, I do not have my way with black men, or wit’ no one I arrest. That would be a crime.”
“Certainly.”
“Let’s say if’n I was gonna do somethin’ like that, I wouldn’t be targetin’ black folks. I love black folks. My deputy is as black as night,” Auffernan said. His squad car glided down the moonlit street. “But I don’t like thugs. I don’t like cocky thugs comin’ down here and making a stink in my nice little town.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You ain’t a thug.”
“No, sir.”
“So you see my problem, boy?”
“You won’t abuse me because I’m not a thug?”
“I ain’t say that. I don’t abuse no one.”
“Would it help if I acted like a thug?”
“Boy, you the queen of all the sissies.” Auffernan said. “I doubt you could pull that off.”
Desmond knew Auffernan was right. He could not pull off a thug act. He tried his best though. He leaned back in the backseat and gave off the disaffected air of a real thug. “You, pig, you best jerk ma dick like ya life depends on it, muddahfuckah-“
“That ain’t workin’. You about as thug as Urkel, boy,” Auffernan said. He sniffled and sighed. “You know I gotta charge you, right? I called this in. There gonna be questions if I just let you go.”
“That’s fine.”
“Gonna be a two hundred dollar fine,” Auffernan said.
“I can afford it.”
“Well hell, ain’t you the uppity kind? You loaded or what?” Auffernan said with a laugh. He made eye contact with Desmond in the rearview mirror.
“Not exactly loaded,” Desmond said. “But I can afford a couple fines.”
Auffernan pulled into the parking lot of the police station. It was a tiny building, barely bigger than an efficiency apartment. Auffernan dragged Desmond out of the back seat. Desmond struggled like a thug the best he could.
“Yo, pig, get off me!”
Auffernan dragged him to his feet. He whistled. “You really like it when it hurts, huh?” He tightly gripped Desmond’s arm with one meaty hand, causing a twinge of pain where Desmond’s wrists were bound.
“Yes, officer. Pig. Go fuck a donut.”
As he walked him to the front door, Auffernan snorted in derision. “Shit, most thugs get more creative than that, boy.” He slapped his thigh.
“I’ll work on that,” Desmond said. He followed Auffernan inside the police station.
There was no one inside. It was just an open room with a few desks scattered about, and at one end was an office — Auffernan’s, presumably. The other end had two small jail cells. That was where Auffernan led Desmond. He added a second pair of handcuffs attaching the first pair around Desmond’s wrists to the cell bars, so Desmond was forced to face away from the rest of the station. “You wait there, bitch. Gonna make you show a little respec’.”
Desmond shuddered. He felt sure Auffernan was going to do it now, and his dick raged in his pants. He had trouble sounding like a thug when he was so horny and so desperate to be submissive. “Who you calling a bitch, pig?”
There was a loud clattering noise, then Auffernan loudly locked the front door. “You shouldn’t be comin’ ‘round to my town and insultin’ me, boy.”
“You evolved in a cave, cracker!”
That made Auffernan stop walking. His menacing cop routine vanished. “What?”
Desmond dropped his thug act as well. “It’s a Five-Percenter thing.”
There was another long silence. “What?”
“Five-Percenters. They believe white people evolved in a cave… Nevermind,” he said. “It’s just what I thought a thug might insult you with-“
“Ain’t all people evolve in a cave? Like cavemen?”
Desmond shrugged. “I dunno. I guess so.”
“Every black person I ever arrested was better at insulting me than you is,” Auffernan said with a sigh. “Even this deaf motherfucker I arrested a couple years back.” Auffernan was right behind Desmond now, unbuttoning his shirt. Desmond moaned.
Desmond could hear Auffernan taking his clothes off but couldn’t see him. The police station had become dark since Auffernan turned the lights off, leaving only the illumination of the emergency lighting in the jail cell.
“Sorry,” Desmond said. “I’ll try to get better.”
“You want something to bite on, boy?” Auffernan asked. He was right behind Desmond now, so close his breath condensed on Desmond’s cheek. He wrapped a piece of red vinyl cloth in front of Desmond’s face, like a tether he could bite on.
As Desmond opened his mouth to let it in, he realized what it was — a Confederate flag. That made him feel even hornier, and he wished he could take his pants off.
“Ain’t nothing racist about me using this flag, boy. ‘S just about culture and heritage, not race,” Auffernan said. “You got that?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I use this flag e’ry time I got a northerner come down here, need to be reminded he ain’t from ‘round these parts,” Auffernan said.
“You fucking honky,” Desmond said. He meant for it to sound threatening, but it came out like a seductive groan as the situation made him aroused and panty.
“You gonna jerk me off, boy.”
“Yes, oh god yes!”
“T’weren’t a question,” Auffernan said. “It was a prediction.” He uncuffed Desmond from the cell bars, leaving his wrists cuffed together. He pushed Desmond to his knees. “You ain’t gonna bite me, right?”
“I won’t bite! I promise!”
“I’m sure you won’t. And you got nice soft lips, so I think I’m gonna like this,” Auffernan said. He had a wide, strapping body and a furry blond chest. He had unbuttoned his uniform shirt but not taken it off, revealing a Confederate flag wifebeater underneath, torn and stained with sweat around the armpits. Auffernan still wore his black uniform slacks.
“Can I lick your armpits, officer?”
Auffernan sneered in disgust. “Yes, but you can’t enjoy it. That’s gross,” he said.
“Fuck you, pig, you can’t tell me what to do. Muddahfuckah,” Desmond said. He smiled and attacked Auffernan’s left pit. He inhaled deeply and licked the hairs there, tasting the stale salt of past sweats sticking to his skin. He managed to gag in an authentic way — it was musky and disgusting in an objective sense, so it was easy to respond like it was foul, even if Desmond actually loved it. “Oh god yes,” Desmond said as he moved to the other armpit. “Don’t make me suck on your balls next.”
Auffernan chuckled. “You like swallowin’ white balls?”
“I like the taste of redneck balls.”
Auffernan’s eyes flashed darkly. “I don’t like it when people who ain’t rednecks call me a redneck. Seems kinda like a slur,” he said.
“Let’s talk punishment, hillbilly,” Desmond said before diving his head between Auffernan’s legs. He still wore his slacks so Desmond’s tongue wettened the fabric, which was salty and sour.
“Oh now, I ain’t a hillbilly. I ain’t that rural,” Auffernan said as he undid his belt. His pants fell to his ankles, and he had on a pair of white briefs, dingy and grayed. His cock and balls bulged, thick pubic hair sneaking around the edges of the fabric.
Desmond whistled. “You sure you ain’t part black? You got a massive slab of meat there, ‘specially for a redneck.”
“You just tryin’-a piss me off now, boy.”
“I’ve been trying to piss you off since you arrested me,” Desmond said. He used his teeth to bite the elastic of the briefs, then awkwardly pulled them down — he was still handcuffed, so that was the only way to do it. He had never done this with briefs before — only boxers, but he had ample experience with them — and it was awkward. Auffernan looked down at him with his arms folded over his chest.
“There’s a part of my ballsac-” the way he drawled out ballsac to last for what seemed like ten syllables to Desmond — “thass always itchin’ me, boy. I wanna see if yo’ tongue can scratch that itch.”
As much as a part of Desmond wanted to go right for the dick, which was plump and already stirring with a trace of erection, he wanted to drag this out as long as possible. He stuck his head between Auffernan’s legs and licked his balls.
They were thick and heavy, dripping with sweat — there was air conditioning in the station, but it did not seem to be effective, and the building remained extraordinarily hot, making Auffernan’s balls slippery. The sweat flowed from those hairy balls right down Desmond’s greedily guzzling throat. The musty, salty flavor exploded on Desmond’s tongue, and he gurgled as he savored it.
Auffernan pointed to the rear of his balls, having to awkwardly reach behind his own ass to get his finger there. “Right there,” he said. The spot was right where his scrotum met his taint, and it was covered in sweat-stickied hairs.
Without taking Auffernan’s overflowing ballsac from his mouth, Desmond stretched his tongue out to that spot. The taste was grimy and dirty, making Desmond moan around the flesh that quivered in his mouth. He had to strain to get his tongue out that far, but when he touched it, Auffernan grunted.
“Damn, you one hell of a ballslurper,” Auffernan said as though he was shocked. “Ain’t nevuh had no one suck my balls who really liked it, I guess.” His dick sprang to full erection above Desmond’s face, and it twitched every time Desmond lapped at Auffernan’s sensitive sac.
Goober in. Auffernan, you there? What’s up?”
Auffernan reached to the uniform shirt that he had placed on a nearby desk. He grabbed the radio mic off it and said to Desmond, “This is that black deputy I was tellin’ you about. He always messin’ wit’ pinkboys. Keep quiet fo’ now,” Then he spoke into the mic. “Hey, Goober. Nothin’ going on right now. I picked up a drunk boy. You might have some interest in him.”
A long pause. Crap. My wife’s gonna kill him. Rashaad right? He promised he wouldn’t drink outside the home. Was he on liquor? His mom made him promise only beer-
“Nah, stop, Goober, no-” Auffernan said until Goober stopped talking long enough that Auffernan could transmit. “Nah, not one of yer boys like yer son. I just mean he’s black.”
Oh, well, whatever. You givin’ him the standard welcome?
“Even as we speak,” Auffernan said with a chuckle. “He got a real sour look on his face, and he making these chipmunk sounds.” He held the mic near Desmond’s face so the sound of his moist sputtering could be heard. “You hear that?”
Not really. Just sounds like static. I’m sure it’s a pretty sound. You tell him to keep it real for me, Auffernan. I’m-a go serve that warrant now.
“Roger that,” Auffernan said. He put the radio mic down. Then he looked down at Desmond’s red face and bugging eyes. “You keep it real, okay?”
“Yes, officer,” Desmond said through the balls filling up his mouth.
“You ready to swallow that dick?”
His dick had gotten rock-hard from Desmond’s attention to his balls, and from his position underneath the massive cop, Auffernan’s cock took up almost all of Desmond’s field of vision. He gurgled his excited agreement around the ballflesh overflowing from his throat, which continued to send trickles of tasty fluids down Desmond’s throat.
He pulled away, keeping his mouth open so Auffernan could see the pool of drool and sweat that had collected in the back of his mouth. He stuck his tongue out and licked the entire shaft from root to tip. It twitched. With his tongue, Desmond traced the veins that ran up the side of the shaft. He choked up plenty of spit, which ran down Auffernan’s dick into his bushy forest of crotch hair.
Auffernan lost his disaffected pose, and he shuddered, pleasure visibly rippling through him. His arms were crossed over his chest, but as Desmond licked, he clutched at his body and played with his nipples as though uncontrollably aroused.
“Shit, yeah!” Auffernan muttered. “You do that good!” Desmond swallowed his precum-leaking cocktip, letting that mess of fluids in his mouth leak out and down Auffernan’s shaft to moisten it up. Auffernan sighed. He leaned against the cell bars. “Shit…”
Desmond began deep-throating him in earnest, working his dick all the way down his throat. He was an expert cock-sucker, so he didn’t need to gag on it, but he liked to, both because it was enjoyable on its own terms and because it made Auffernan get cockier, which turned Desmond on.
“You can’t handle this much meat, huh?”
He didn’t want to stop to answer, so Desmond just said ‘no, it’s too much!’ around the meat in his throat. All that came out was a gurgling sound, but Auffernan seemed to get the gist of what he was saying.
“Lemme lube it up some,” Auffernan said. He very slowly spat, letting a thick wad of saliva drip down, plopping onto Desmond’s upper lip as he slid down the shaft.
Desmond suckled the spit into his mouth as he stretched his jaw and got all the way down. Then he let that spit roll out down Auffernan’s shaft, as Auffernan grunted. His knees buckled. His balls crawled up in his sac as though about to cum, but then Auffernan removed Desmond’s face from his cock. He lightly slapped it.
“You’s tryna’-a make me cum too early,” he said. “I’m cornholin’ you in the ass, boy. Ain’t gonna let you cum neither.” He chuckled throatily. “You ain’t gettin’ outta here with an intact booty. No way. Not on Auffernan’s watch.”
“Never, you fuckin’ pig!” Desmond said. He stood up, taking a deep breath now that his throat was clear. He grabbed the cell bars with his cuffed wrists and stuck his ass out a bit to give Auffernan a good angle. “I’ll fuck you up, officer!”
“Speaking of pigs,” Auffernan said as he rammed his dick in. A jolt of pain shot up Desmond’s spine, and he howled. Auffernan gripped him by the waist. “Lemme hear you squeal.”
Desmond squealed as loud as he could. He wasn’t sure how pig-like it was, but it was an animalistic squeal anyway. The cock in his ass pushed in a little farther, pulsating deep within him. It awakened a chord of intense pleasure that sounded up from his booty, traveling up his spine and hitting him with a wave of exquisite sensations.
“That ain’t a pig. You just squealed like a… big, retarded rooster,” Auffernan said. “Try it again. Like this.” Then he made a rough, honking noise — to Desmond, he wanted to say it sounded like an angry goose. But he didn’t argue, the pleasure exploding in his ass was too intense to form any words. He just made the sound the best he could.
Auffernan’s dick was all the way in him now, and Desmond’s prostate throbbed with every thrust of his cock. He squealed again, making that angry goose sound.
“Hey, here, make that sound again,” Auffernan said, shoving the radio mic in front of Desmond’s face. He pushed the ‘transmit’ button.
Desmond squealed as loud as he could to be sure the mic could pick it up. The pain was melting away now as his ass loosened up, and Auffernan’s cock flowed in and out easily. Auffernan slammed with all his mind, ramming Desmond into the cell bars with each thrust of his hips.
After a few seconds, there was a click, and then Deputy Goober’s bass laughter came out of the radio.
There a pig loose in the station, hoss? Want me to get the assholes at Animal Control?
“Nah, I got this piggie under control. He just makin’ noise to let me know he feel strongly ‘bout what’s happenin’ to him,” Auffernan said into the radio. Then he whispered into Desmond’s ear, “Alright, boy, I’m-a give you this flag to bite on again.”
The cold vinyl Confederate flag again pushed between Desmond’s lips. He bit down hard, which made the plowing a little easier to take. The fabric was thick enough to have some purchase, so he could relieve the pressure he felt with a strong clamp of his teeth on the flag. As he did so, he bucked his ass backward, forcing it deep onto Auffernan’s cock — he wanted to make this as good as possible for Officer Auffernan, who groaned appreciatively. That groan turned into a shudder like he was holding back his orgasm.
“Fuck yeah,” Auffernan said. He looked around as though checking for anyone else in the station, then whispered again. “Look… I learned somethin’ in the military, a sorta rule. I don’t follow it on the force,” he said. “Cuz normally I only cornhole pissheads.” He took a deep breath. His hands reached around Desmond’s body, squeezing first his nipples as though Auffernan hoped to find tits there. Then his hands roamed lower down until they came to Desmond’s rock-hard cock. Auffernan pulled away for a moment like he was scared. Then he resumed touching and even stroking Desmond’s dick with one hand, while his other hand held the flag in place in Desmond’s mouth. Auffernan moaned, sounding a little disgusted. “My drill sergeant said you can ram a man in the ass, but you gotta give a reacharound. It’s against the rules otherwise.”
“Really?” Desmond asked through gritted teeth, his voice muffled by the flag that was still in his mouth.
Auffernan shrugged. “I’m sure that wasn’t a real Army rule or nothin’. Just what my drill sergeant was into,” he said. “You ever tell anyone, I will get you locked up — not here where you gonna get rammed all the time neither, I’ll get you locked up somewhere terrible where the guards are all fat.”
“Won’t. Tell.” Desmond could barely speak. His ass was on fire with orgasmic energy, while his dick pulsated beneath Auffernan’s fingers. He wished he could prolong it, but he was already bucking and shooting his load. All it took was a few strokes from a massively muscled alpha like Officer Auffernan.
“Dang, boy, you nut fast!” Auffernan let out a wolf whistle.
Semen sprayed across Auffernan’s fingers and into the cell, dripping all over the floor and coating the cell bars in Desmond’s cream. Desmond groaned loudly, and then Auffernan did likewise, but with a more grossed-out tenor, his hand still stroking Desmond’s orgasming cock. He lifted the fingers of his other hand to Desmond’s face, where he wiped cum the cum off his hands onto Desmond’s cheeks.
Then he took both ends of the flag in his hands, pulling tight so Desmond’s head was forced upward. As though he needed to reassert his masculinity after touching Desmond’s cock, Officer Auffernan began pounding his dick in and out, all the way with each powerful stroke. That only continued Desmond’s orgasm.
“Take it, boy,” Auffernan said, growling through gritted teeth. Just as he was saying boy, his voice broke and the first jet of cum hit Desmond’s ass. He continued longdicking through the shoulder-shaking power of his orgasm.
Desmond shuddered and squeezed as though trying to hold on to Auffernan’s cock with his ass. A huge load of cum sprayed into his guts, and a seeping warmth spread to his guts. Desmond moaned along with Auffernan as jet after jet of white-hot cum coated his insides.
That orgasm seemed to last forever. Desmond’s had begun when Auffernan jacked him off and continued through Auffernan’s climax, and even now, Auffernan’s cock spurting out the last of his cum, Desmond writhed and gasped as ecstasy coursed through his veins. His prostate thrummed and hummed, and Desmond struggled against the handcuffs binding his wrists together.
At last, when his balls were good and drained, Auffernan pulled out and Desmond breathed a sigh of relief. His ass felt cold and empty. He stayed there, bent over and with a Confederate flag in his mouth — Auffernan no longer held on to it, so Desmond could have spat it out anytime. He didn’t want to though. He wondered how many other men had bit this flag while they got rammed. He hoped it was a lot. Maybe that was why Auffernan used it. Maybe he liked the flag soaking up all the ass-pain sweat and drool of the men he ramrodded.
Officer Awful. That was what they called him. Desmond had heard about that, and he came running to this tiny town so he could run into him.
As Desmond recovered from his orgasm, he turned his head to see Auffernan writing him a ticket. He was still naked, his sweaty body swaying, limp dick moist with cum and assjuice. Auffernan put the ticket in Desmond’s hand.
“Here you go, boy. That’ll be two hundred dollars. You can pay at the county courthouse.” Public intoxication was checked, but at the bottom of the list of possible charges, Auffernan had written in, inappropriate squealing, and checked that box as well.
“If I don’t pay, do I get to stay here?” Desmond asked with a grin and a gasp.
“That is exactly correct,” Officer Awful said.