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Welcome to the latest Piggysleaze series. It is set in the same "world" as some of my other stories, so I've provided a quick background summary if you haven't read those. This series is one of EXTREME raunch, and will eventually include scat, puke, and other degenerate themes. As always, do not read if younger than 18, and this work of fiction does not represent any real people. Email is always welcome: piggysleaze@mail.com
Backstory: By 2022 a secret cabal of filthy, degenerate, incestuous raunch families had attained the highest levels of power and money. They used their privilege, wealth, and positions of power to launch a scheme that had been decades in the making: filling the food and water supply with pharmaceuticals that would turn ordinary men into filth-craving, depraved pigs like themselves. For one of their first testing trials in the fall of '22, the cabal selected the small Midwestern town of Grassmore, population 1,000. This is what happened over the course of a week, as the additives began to affect the town's male inhabitants.
THURSDAY
Bill had an important morning meeting -- important for the future of the town, the bank, and for him as the president of the venerable institution. Reluctantly disentangling himself from his 16-year-old son in their filthy bed, he set about putting on his most expensive suit and tie. The charcoal grey pants and silk-lined jacket looked smart on him, as did his gartered black socks and gleaming black shoes. His crisp white shirt and silk blue tie made him look like the bank president he was. But underneath he was still a pig. He had slid on his thickest and heaviest stainless steel cockring as well as the matching stainless steel ball stretcher, making his heavy sac dangle low like he loved. Before zipping and belting his perfectly-pressed pants, he inserted his new favorite buttplug into his mancunt. The plug was also stainless steel, completing the set. It didn't fill him as wonderfully as his son's fist and arm had last night, but it would do for now. He shook Caleb awake, knowing his son wouldn't want to miss a minute of school, and gave him a spit-soaked morning kiss goodbye. "Today's a big day at work, stud," he told his incestuous lover, as Caleb rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "I'm heading on in."
"O.K. Dad," Caleb replied, sitting up against the headboard. "Good luck. I know you are going to be awesome." Then the beautiful teen opened up his bladder and started pissing through his morning hardon all over his jock body and the already-stinking bed. Bill groaned with disappointment that he couldn't just dive into that firehose of rank piss, but he needed to get going. He smiled proudly when his son called after him, "You look fucking hot in that suit, dad."
When he arrived at the bank, Bill went straight to the conference room. His assistant Jason was already there. The 23-year-old was also dressed in a suit, although it was much more ill-fitting than Bill's since he had probably borrowed it for his first "real" job after college. Jason was gangly and scruffy, with wildly unkempt brown hair, and the perpetual bloodshot eyes of a stoner. Bill always thought he looked more like a pizza delivery dude than an executive assistant, but after giving Jason a chance, he was pleasantly surprised that beneath the slacker exterior was a meticulous manager that basically kept the place running day-to-day. And more recently, the bank president had discovered his assistant was also an excellent cocksucker. Bill walked up to him and grabbed the back of his head, pulling him in by the hair for a rough snog of dueling tongues and raking teeth. The two made out for a couple minutes, rubbing their hard cocks against each other through the wool and silk of their suit pants. When at last they paused, Bill went right into the business at hand. "Is everything ready?"
Jason nodded diligently. "Packets are at each seat. Everything has been triple checked, so it should all go smoothly. And...," he paused, looking over Bill's shoulder, "here they come."
Bill nodded and told Jason to go ahead and take his place. Jason crawled under the table as the five men pushed open the glass door and entered the conference room. As the bank's Board, they radiated the sort of confidence and ease that one would expect from the rich and powerful. They were all big-bellied and big-assed guys; similarly interchangeable wealthy white men with huge appetites -- for food, drink, sex, and otherwise. In another era they might have been called the epitome of "fat cats." As they took their seats, Bill started. "Gentlemen, I'm aware you are all very busy, so let's just dive right in. As you know, over the years the bank has accumulated far too many properties in Grassmore through foreclosure, bankruptcy, and just plain abandonment. Not only is this bad for the town, it is bad for us, weighing on the balance sheets. However, working with the mayor and city council, I believe we have a plan to change all that. Through a set of tax breaks from the city and favorable loans from us, along with our direct oversight and control of the accounting, we believe we can convert all these empty spaces into profitable businesses within a few months."
The men around the table nodded appreciatively, recognizing the logic and good business sense of what Bill was saying, so he continued. "If you open your packet, you'll see the first proposed business is a massive porno theater. This is just the kind of sleazy venue that men will flock to once it is up and running, and requires very little in startup costs. In fact, a few filthy couches and mattresses are all that's needed. Up to 100 men can come here 24/7 to fuck and get off while the best porn plays on the big screen. Of course, the concession stand will sell poppers, weed, and meth, which is also almost all profit." Under the table Jason could see the Board members rubbing their crotches as his boss laid out a vision of the perfect porno theater. They could all see the hordes of rutting men in the dark and sweaty space, fucking and sucking openly while the sights and sounds of extreme porn surrounded them. Jason crawled under the table and over to one of the men at the end (he had no idea who it was), quickly unzipping the fat man's tightly packed pants. A hard, stubby, unwashed cock flopped out, sticking up through the fly under a massive roll of belly fat. Jason immediately started sucking, earning a moan of appreciation as Bill continued his presentation.
"Now, on page two you'll see our next business will be a bathhouse. This is a slightly more expensive option for horny guys, but of course, there are more opportunities for getting off: Gloryholes, fuck rooms, steamrooms, saunas, slings, and so on." Jason could hear more zippers opening and saw that every cock except Bill's was now out under the table. The assistant crawled from seat to seat, sucking expertly while jacking whichever other dicks were within arm's length. The men who weren't being serviced leisurely pumped their cocks, hoping that the warm mouth would be making it back to them soon.
As they flipped to page three, Bill explained, "next, we have a new gym to go into the abandoned warehouse space on Elm Street."
Here, one of the Board members spoke up for the first time. "Didn't the town have a gym a couple years ... ahhh fuck, yeah, yank my balls while you suck. That's nice. Yeah, nice and hard ... a couple years ago that went out of business? Are we sure that a gym can make money? Ahhh fucking nice, man. Fucking smack 'em up. Harder fucker. Hit my balls til they burst."
Bill answered the question over the sound of the Board member's nuts being pummeled again and again, while the corpulent man tilted back his head in ecstasy. "Harry raises a good point. Of course, in this gym guys will be able to work out AND fuck freely. So, imagine squat racks that include fisting settings, and stationary bikes with dildo attachments, as well as just general fucking areas on the mats and machines. More importantly, this gym will freely sell steroids so that guys can get fully juiced. They can shoot each other up right in the lobby, filling their veins with the best stacks of cutting edge roids. In just a few weeks, every patron in this gym will have turned themselves into a mountain of vein-riddled, testosterone-fueled pig muscle. Naturally, we will get a cut of all that revenue."
Harry nodded at the excellent answer, before moaning, "Aww fuck, that's it. I'm cumming. FUCCKKKK." As Harry unloaded buckets of cum down Jason's throat and over his face, Bill proceeded.
"Now, similar to that, we will be able to convert the derelict apartment building on Main Street into a brand-new medical facility -- one that specializes in the modification of cocks and balls. I'm talking monster meat, here gentlemen. We've secured the country's best specialists in saline and silicone enhancements. These are the treatments that can give men cocks as big as a fire extinguisher and balls the size of grapefruits and basketballs. Men will flock to Grassmore for bull balls and monster cocks." The vision of all those enormous, enhanced cocks and balls (along with his assistant's oral talents) sent another of the Board members over the edge, and Bill could hear Jason under the table slurping hungrily, trying to take what was obviously a geyser of cum.
As talented as his assistant was, Bill also realized that he needed to jump in to help keep this important meeting on track. Showing the skills that made him such an effective leader, Bill paused in his presentation and stood up. He then proceeded to grab the seat of his $1,000 suit's pants and ripped them open. His meaty ass fell out, fully exposed as the expensive fabric flopped loose. Next, he pulled out the stainless steel buttplug that he had inserted earlier back home, and set it on the table. It was thick with Bill's morning shit, which he could feel was packed in deep up his tunnel. While Jason scurried under the table to keep attending the next Board member's cock, Bill leaned slightly forward, offering his shitty ass to whomever might be waiting for relief. Sure enough, one of the Board members hopped up, cock sticking out of his tailored suitpants, and came around to Bill's backside.
"Continuing on to pages six and seven," Bill said, resuming the meeting even as the fat Board member's beercan cock slid into his shit-slick hole. Ever the professional, the bank president flowed effortlessly between the raunchy sex he had initiated and the business at hand. "Ahhh fuck that's good. Fuck my shitty cunt. Our other plans for Main Street are just as ambitious. Dispensaries for all sex-enhancing substances at each end. Liquor stores without age minimums. Sex toy retailers. Slutwear stores. Harder you fat fuck. Plow through that shit. Make it blast out all over my ass and all over your hairy pubes. And of course, Main Street will continue to have long-established businesses like Danny's Barber Shop and the hardware store. Yeah, man, I can smell the stink. Fuck me in and out so you can smear it all over back there, fucker. Cover me in my sewage. And let me be clear, gentleman..."
Here he paused as Jason brought off another Board member under the table, waiting until the groans of ecstasy died down, "Let me be clear that with our bitch wives out of the picture, we can tend to the business of men being men again. Steakhouses, cigar shops, whiskey bars, sports bars. Yeah, smear that shit all over my ass you fat, fucking pig. Paint my butt in thick shit sludge." The Board members were nodding in agreement at Bill's vision of an all-male utopia on their Main Street. No more nagging cunts to tell them what they could and couldn't buy. Sportscars. Giant TVs. Massive grills for thick slabs of red meat every night. Every room in every house in Grassmore could now be a mancave. And more importantly, the Board saw that the money would flow like water.
"Ahhhh fuck I'm cumming," roared the Board member behind Bill, his shitty hands reaching up to grab the bank president by the pecs as he humped his scalding load into the creamy shit chute. Thick handprints of brown sewage soaked into Bill's suit jacket and starched white shirt. At the table the final Board member was also convulsing as Jason's excellent mouth brought him to climax. That was five for five, thought Bill. As his shit-fucking Board member headed back to his seat, cock dripping in sludge, Bill knew he now needed to bring his pitch to its grand finale.
"Finally, there's the old cold storage facility on the edge of town, that has been an albatross around our necks for years. But it can be repurposed for one very important objective: Servers." He paused for dramatic effect, and noted the confused looks around the table. He launched into the final part of his plan. "Internet servers, gentlemen. State of the art, as good and as powerful as anything in Silicon Valley. And why servers? Because we are going to give webcams to every household in Grassmore that wants to earn a little extra money, or just wants to be perverted exhibitionists. Think of all the horny guys around the world who are jacking off right now. How much would they pay to see our fathers and sons fuck? How much would they pay to see our men eating shit and our boys being fisted? How much would they pay to see our orgies of filth pigs or how nasty our fellow townsmen can be? Incest. Bestiality. Scat. Puke. There are no limits. And there are no limits to how much we could earn broadcasting it all to the most perverted and depraved men with an internet connection. It can all be done through paid webfeeds and subscription accounts set up by our own citizenry. We, here at the bank, of course will take our percentage off the top, because all that high-grade, highly addictive porn will flow over our perfectly encrypted, completely invisible servers. Think of it, gentlemen -- millions of pedophiles and raunch pigs spending their money to watch Grassmore men and boys do what we do naturally day in and day out."
When he finished his speech, there was dead silence in the room. Even the sound of Jason sucking clean the shit-covered cock went quiet. And then, suddenly, all five men jumped to their feet applauding, their puffy, drained cocks still dangling from their exorbitantly-priced suits. "Brilliant." "Genius." "Wonderful," they shouted. Within 30 minutes the entire plan was approved and Bill was given free command of all the bank's financial resources to make it happen. The board also voted big raises for Bill and Jason, commending them on such an impressive meeting. After they exited, Bill and Jason rushed at each other and began making out in passionate celebration.
"Fuck," said Bill sadly as a pulled away, "I really should stay dressed. I need to meet the mayor in a few minutes."
"No problem," Jason said, grabbing the crotch of Bill's expensive suit and ripping it open to match the backside. His boss' impressive cock and balls flopped out, festooned in the steel cock ring and weights. Dropping to his knees, the young assistant deep throated the bank president's cock, sucking the monster all the way down to its base like the pro he was. Bill just moaned in pleasure, bucking his hips back and forth to throat-fuck his employee.
A few of the bank's other staff gathered on the other side of the conference room's glass wall to watch, jacking off their own cocks against the transparent partition. Bill picked up his pace, rocking in and out of the warm, wet sheathe of Jason's gullet. "FUCCKKK" he shouted, announcing his climax. Just as he blasted down Jason's throat, all six of his employee's cocks also erupted on the other side of the glass wall, smothering the glass in wave after wave of creamy cum. The sight of the boardroom glass being doused in gallons of cum prolonged Bill's orgasm, and he continue to pump ropes of pig batter into Jason's mouth. When he was finally done, he slowly pulled out from his assistant's mouth, trailing spit and residual jizz over his chin. A waterfall of cum was running down the wall on the other side, like some sort of perverted decorative feature. Actually, thought Bill, a frosted glass wall from endless loads of cum would look good. He'd have Jason send out a memo for all employees to contribute a load or two each day until the glass wall was completely covered in spooge.
Looking up at the clock, he gave Jason -- still on his knees -- a playful slap across the cheek. "Gotta run," he said. Jason smiled as he watched his boss head for the door. One look at Bill's current state and the mayor was going to know exactly how well the meeting had gone.
Grassmore was too small to support a traditional country club. What it had instead was a small, private men's club dating back to the turn of the century called the Schweinson Club. Walking in, Bill took a deep breath to smell the 100+ years of cigar smoke and furniture polish that defined "The Schwein," as everyone called it. It was a large, single room, lined with leatherbound books and filled with leather couches and chairs. Scattered about was a billiards table and assorted trunks and cabinets holding accoutrements like cut crystal decanters of port and teak cigar humidor boxes. Thick oriental rugs covered the floor and a fully stocked mahogany bar dominated the corner opposite the door. James, the club's butler, was a Schwein institution, able to make perfect cocktails to the exacting specifications of every member. Before Bill's eyes had even fully adjusted to the room's dim light, James was walking towards him with a silver tray containing the bank president's Manhattan cocktail and thick Cuban cigar. The butler was completely naked except for a bow tie, his long, curved cock pointing out from his trim, fit, middle-aged body (although no one knew exactly how old James actually was). In a crisp British accent, he bowed his head slightly as he held out the tray. "Hello, sir. I trust the meeting went well."
Bill retrieved his drink and cigar, and somehow the impeccable James also produced a lighter, holding out the flame to light the plump, hand-rolled Cuban. As Bill puffed his cigar to life, he gave the butler's beautiful cock a few strokes. "Yes, James, it went very well, thank you." The butler took in the sight of Bill's current state. The bank president's suit pants were held in place only by an expensive belt of Italian leather. Otherwise, both the crotch and ass had been completely ripped open, threads and fabric wafting loosely around the edges of the exposed sections. Bill's engorged cock was set off by a massive cockring, and heavy weights were pulling down his impressive balls. Meanwhile his exposed ass was thoroughly coated in thick shit. Above the waist, his silk blue tie hung along his starched white shirt which was underneath a perfectly tailored jacket. Both shirt and jacket were smeared with several handprints of what was obviously streaks of even more shit.
"Sir," offered James as he assessed the club member standing The Schwein's entryway. "Might I help you make an adjustment to your attire before you meet with the mayor?"
"Of course, James. The club has to keep up standards." James nodded in agreement before pushing Bill down to his knees. Pumping his delicious-looking British cock a few times, he grabbed Bill's silk tie and proceeded to spurt ropes of thick, heavy jizz up and down the length of it. Ever the expert at impeccable service, all the butler's hot, steamy batter landed precisely on the blue tie, ensuring every white, creamy rivulet was set off beautifully in the azure background.
"Very good, sir," James said approvingly as Bill stood up. "I believe you will find the mayor in his usual spot."
"Thank you, James," Bill said appreciatively, looking down at his cum-soaked tie. "I don't know what this place would do without you." As the butler left to tend to the needs of other members, Bill headed to a semi-private corner of the room created by antique carved screens of exquisite craftsmanship. Rounding the screen, he found the mayor lounging on a soft dark brown leather sofa. Mayor Mike Cumbert was the same age as Bill; in fact, they'd grown up together. They were certainly best friends and practically brothers. Like Bill, Mike has let his beer gut grow over the last few years, not minding the bearish look it gave him, along with his dense, dark body hair. The two had been college roommates; best men at each other's wedding; and lifelong Grassmore residents when so many others had moved away. But it was only recently that they had started fucking, and now they couldn't imagine anything other than raunchy pig sex between them. Mike was splayed naked on the couch, his cock encased in a thick, heavy vacuum pump and his balls stretched by a round leather harness attached to a 10 lb. weight hanging mid-air off the edge of couch. Like Bill, he was also smoking a cigar, the half-finished Cuban clutched between his teeth while his hands pulled on his enormous utter-like tits. Bill loved Mike through and through, but damn he was jealous of those tits!
"How did it go," the mayor asked through his clinched cigar, making no move to stop playing with his giant nipples that Bill swore were actually leaking pre-cum into his slippery fingers.
Bill plopped down in a wide leather chair catty-corner to the couch and hoisted his polished dress shoes up onto the dark-stained coffee table. He spread his legs wide and pushed his exposed ass out to the edge of the seat. "Grand slam home run," he said with a grin, fingering his shitty hole. "The whole plan is approved. After lunch I can start making the calls and signing the paperwork."
"Excellent," Mike exclaimed, finally removing his cigar with one hand, although his other continued its aggressive tit-twizzling and milking. "I pre-approved all the permits this morning, assuming the best." Bill nodded approvingly as he sucked his fingers clean of their shitty coating before returning them to his cunt to get filthy all over again. "We've also reached out to every contractor, carpenter, plumber, and painter in town to let them know these jobs are in the pipeline. Given what we can pay, I suspect everyone will make one of these new businesses their number one priority."
"Yeah, but we'll need even more workers and tradies to get it all done," said Bill dreamily, thinking of all the construction men who would be pouring into town for these lucrative contracts. His ass was itching for the number of building and construction crew inspections he'd have to make in the coming weeks.
"Don't worry about labor. Already working on it," replied Mike as he puffed clouds of cigar smoke into the air. "There's going to be a lot of hot Mexican cock in town any day now. Hope you like chorizo!" Bill rolled his eyes and groaned at his friend's bad joke, but he was definitely oozing pre-cum at the thought of dozens of unwashed Mexican cocks and holes full of loose bean burrito shit. Just then James reappeared with another silver tray, this one laden with a penis pump identical to the mayor's and a black 15-inch dildo.
"I thought," said James in his soothing British baritone, "that perhaps you'd like to join the mayor in some pumping play. And I see that your ass is in need of much more than some fingering sir. Might I suggest this instead?" Bill marveled at James' near-telepathic ability to know exactly what was needed in every situation. Reaching into a bowl of lube on the coffee table, Bill greased up his cock and then slid it into the glass tube. Using the pump, he moaned as his cock expanded inside the container, getting thicker and bigger until it pressed against the sides of the glass in greasy smears. The angry red color and bulging veins looked and felt so good.
Meanwhile, James had taken it upon himself to grease up the giant dildo and stuffed it into Bill's hungry cunt while he was busy with the pump. Satisfied the massive sex toy was sufficiently submerged in its new shitty receptacle, James returned to the tray. "Sir, if I may..." he said, holding up a pair of nipple pumps that Bill hadn't noticed before. Bill just moaned and nodded, drooling around his clinched cigar while adding more vacuum pressure to his cock. James grabbed a fold of the Egyptian cotton shirt covering Bill's pec, and ripped it open, exposing his puffy nipple. The butler attached the pump to the tit, applying maximum suction before moving to the left side and repeating the process. Satisfied his work was finished, he bowed his head briefly and retreated.
Mayor Mike looked at his friend. Fuck, he was sexy, dressed in his expensive and totally ruined suit, holding his greasy cock-filled penis pump in one hand and furiously using his other to fuck his shitty cunt with that massive black dildo. Bill was looking too, admiring the mayor lustfully playing with his own pump and leaking tits, bouncing up and down to ensure the hanging 10-pound weight yanked his elongated ballsac even further. The two best friends sat quietly together, smoking down their cigars and drinking their cocktails -- lost in their individual gooning pleasures and shared bate bro company. After about thirty minutes of this, it was Mike who called out, "James, I believe we are ready for lunch."
The two men shifted around so that they could sit side-by-side on the leather couch, Bill's leg draped over Mike's as they pressed the sides of their bodies together. They each slipped off the glass tubes of the vacuum pumps, releasing their tight, thick, angrily puffed-up cocks back into the open air. With freshly-greased hands, they reached over and began to slowly and leisurely jerk their buddy. While they waited for James to arrive with lunch, they made out as they ministered to each other's cocks, savoring their spit and snot that they shared freely between them. At last, the butler arrived and proceeded to climb onto the coffee table. Once positioned he squatted and stuck out his tight, smooth ass. Both Mike and Bill leaned in as James' pink asshole began to open and expand, and a thick hard turd poked out. They took turns licking it as it slowly emerged, savoring the taste of the butler's earlier full English breakfast. Eight, nine, ten inches snaked out before it was finally pinched off, dropping into Bill's waiting hand. "Thank you, James," he said politely. "I think that will do for now." The butler nodded and dismounted the coffee table, heading back to the bar to fix some after-lunch drinks for the men.
Bill stuck half the hard log of shit into his mouth, sucking along its delicious texture. The other half hung lewdly out of his mouth, as he repositioned himself to face Mike. But the exposed half of shit was only out in the open for a moment before the mayor inhaled his end. They each sucked back and forth along the shaft of shit, working it like a whore giving a dollar blowjob in the parking lot. As their warm mouths softened the outer layer of the turd, they let the brown slobber run down their chins and onto their pressed-together fat bellies, Bill's still covered by his increasingly ruined dress-shirt and jacket. Reaching under their big stomachs they continued to jack each other off, stroking their taunt cocks, still puffed and swollen from the long pumping session. As the log dissolved further under their attentions, the two men brought their lips together tightly in a perverted shit kiss, each grabbing the other's back of the head to squeeze their mouths together. Then they both bit down, severing their shit connection, and began to chew their scatological lunches. They pulled apart only in order to watch each other chew with gaping open mouths, swallowing most of the delicious shit but allowing some to drool out so they could smear it over their faces.
Just as the last of the turds disappeared down their respective throats, James reappeared with their after-lunch drinks: two tall highball glasses filled to the brim with warm, foamy piss. The club members stood up as they took their drinks, while the butler dropped down to his knees. Clinking their glasses in a "cheers," the two powerful men began chugging the piss and jacking their cocks hard and fast with their slimy, shitty hands. As they savored the last drops of James' delicious rank yellow nectar, they both began moaning louder and louder. "FUCKK YEAH" "AWWW FUCK" "OH FUCK, FUCK" echoed around the storied walls of The Schweinson Club before they began shooting their loads all over James' face. The butler offered a rare smile as blast after blast after blast of hot cum coated his eyes, nose, mouth, and chin. Mike and Bill panted and groaned, leaning against each other as they finished draining their stretched balls.
As James stood up, he flicked his tongue around his lips. "Delicious as always sirs," he declared. "I would be pleased to wear the remainder of your loads on my face the rest of the day, if that is alright with you both." Both nodded their ascent, too drained from their powerful cums to do much else. As the butler walked away, the two men embraced and fell onto the couch together, Bill still in his ruined suit -- jacket, dress shoes, and all. In no time at all, they were asleep, napping in each other's arms on the club's couch. James looked on and smiled from behind the bar. He would roust them in about an hour he decided. After all, they had a town to transform.