Here Piggy Piggy!
Commission for Chameleo
Scabs created by Chammy
All others made by Me~!
Contains Gay Vore >:3~
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Scabs was a pig. Not in the traditional sense, or the biological sense, or even in his eating habits. He was a pig, in his own eyes, because of the occupation he had fallen into. The human was a police officer, and he hated it.
The only thing he liked about his job were the on the side kickbacks. Being able to run red lights, park anywhere he wanted, and, of course, the bribes. They kept the rent of his apartment downtown paid far better than his salary.
Friday night rolled around and he headed to the place that paid him the best gratuities. It was an underground club with a live act which was certainly less than legal, and Scabs was paid quite handsomely to fail to report its existence to his up-and-ups. Plus, he often found a wave of his badge was enough for him to get drinks on the house, and he loved that.
He strolled up to the basement stairway, walking past a line of large anthros nonchalantly. He smirked up at the bouncer, who simply sighed and opened the rope for the human, despite cries of protest from the waiting patrons. Scabs practically glowed at the suffering of the mangy furs, licking his dry lips and snapping his fingers at a waiter when he got to a free table.
The young waiter had seen Scabs before, and stammered, "Y-Yes officer?" The mouse was wrapped in a snug pair of bikini briefs and a halter top, his hair pulled back into a food-conscious bun. The shirt read "I'm on the Menu" with the subtitle, "I'm just too expensive for you."
Scabs smirked at the way the waiters were made to dress at this place. "Booze me. Scotch on the Rocks." He watched the waiter stammer and scurry off, grinning as a live show started. "Never gets old..."
A black panther strolled onto the stage, large and wild looking. A chair raised from a trapdoor, revealing a young raccoon boy, tied up with what looked to be the sort of edible lingerie you'd find at sex shops. The panther licked his lips, and hefted the bound treat, gaping his maw wide.
The waiter returned with the order. Scabs blindly reached to swat the mouse's rump, "Now get me the Veal."
The murine shivered at the clumsy grope, "Y-Yes officer." He scurried off again, hoping his bosses would do something about that damned unfuzzy fuzz.
On stage, the raccoon was slowly descending the panther throat, deforming the predator's flesh in a sensual manner, for all the room to see. Up front there were some catcalls, as the panther immodestly groped over his growing arousal, clearly enjoying having a meal in public.
The raccoon boy struggled and squirmed about, writhing and kicking his legs about as best as he could with his ankles bound together, before those slowly slid in behind smug feline lips, and their bulge travelled down that sleek throat with a resounding gulp, from the microphone the panther had hidden on one ear, trailing down to catch the sounds of every sensual swallow.
The big panther stroked harder as his belly filled out fully, and shuddered, falling to his knees as he came, the first spurt arcing high into the air, before splatting down on the face bulge of his meal, the rest splattering elsewhere on the struggling gut, messing up the fur. He collapsed onto his side, tail twitching idly as a rumbling purr filled the speakers, the panther slowly cleaning himself with his tongue as another microphone picked up the gurgling and soft whimpers from the raccoon. Soon where the panther had laid down began to lower under the stage, another trap door and the lights darkening clearing the stage for the interstitial between shows.
A large platter was wheeled in, with a high cover over it, wheeling among the crowd towards Scab's table. Everyone wondered who ordered a live meal, since obviously that cover was hiding a person. There were confused mutters when the dolly stopped at Scab's table.
The pig snorted, "That kid deaf? I ordered the Veal..." He looked around. The mouse was nowhere to be seen. He then realized the big bouncer from out front was the one wheeling the cart.
The white tiger growled and hefted the bell off the platter.
The mouse sat up, and fired a stun gun at the Scab.
The human shuddered, grasping the tablecloth as the current discharged into his body, causing every muscle in his body to spasm about, before he fell from his chair, the current ending as he knocked his head on the floor, blacking out.
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When Scabs came to, he was bound and seated in a chair in a dark room. The owner of the establishment stepped from the shadows into the human's range of vision, straightening his suit. The slender fox glared down at the human, who stammered, "H-hey, what is this! I could book you on assaulting an officer, impeding an officer in the course of his duties, kidnapping an officer--"
"SHUT UP." The fox barked, snarling.
Scabs shrank back in his bindings, suddenly remembering how vulnerable he was.
The fox growled, "Our deal was that we'd give you 25 grand a month to keep quiet about our establishment. We did not give you carte blanche to abuse the wait staff, skip the cover charge, or skip out on the bill entirely." The fox circled around behind the human as he spoke, placing a paw on the pig's exposed shoulder. Very suddenly Scabs realized he was naked under his bindings. "You know how much Veal costs these days? Legally I mean. That drives the off-market cost right on up too."
"I... I know Lee... I figured since I dispersed some of the evidence of similar joints across town at headquarters, you'd be more... appreciative." Scabs stammered.
"You what? Hell, I'd love for Billy-Ray's to get a raid." The fox boffed the human upside the back of the head, walking back around to the front. "Would make business here all the sweeter with fewer alternatives..." He looked down at the bound human with disdain, "Don't they make you take economic theory at that fancy pig school?"
"I... I can arrange a raid on Billy-Ray!" The fox turned away with a sneer at the human's pleads, "Please, we can go back to how it was, I won't presume..." But the fox had melted back into the shadows.
His voice lingered in the air, "Consider our contract terminated."
A pair of strong paws suddenly lashed a gag into Scab's mouth, holding his mouth slightly open and completely muffled. The human writhed against this as it was tied into place. His eyes widened... it tasted like tootsie rolls. The rough paws put something on his head, covering his eyes.
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Up on stage, the lights came up for a tall wolf to slink on, towards a stage model of a house made of sticks, placed directly over the trap door the raccoon had been brought up in. The wolf reached over and knocked on the little door, "Little piggy, little piggy, let me in..." He growled, grinning, bending over to get his head nice and close to the prop house.
A tremulous voice came over the loudspeaker, covering the sound of the trap door working, "Not by the hair on my chinny chin chin!"
The wolf stood upright. "Then I'll huff... and I'll Puff... and I'll blow this house in!" He paused to let the audience finish their appreciative laughter and applause, sneaking a playful bow. He then took a deep breath, then another, as the loudspeakers played exaggerated breathing noises to match his overacting. Then he mimed blowing as hard as he could, towards the house, which shuddered and shook all over, loud wind noise pumped through the speakers. The prop house soon fell apart in all directions, revealing Scabs bound and gagged, with his police cap rested on his head, covering his eyes.
The room burst into applause and laughter again. The wolf licked his lips, turning to the crowd, "Such a scrumptious little piggy."
Scabs squirmed, struggling against his binds. His chest still ached, as did his head, a distinct pair of burns on his chest from where the stun gun hit him. He flicked his head, managing to get his eyes uncovered by the hat, in time to see a drooling wolf muzzle above him, large claws grasping his bound arms to heft him up.
The big bad wolf grinned broadly, licking his chops as he roughly re-adjusted the human's grasp in his paws. He could remember how the pig had, just last week, heckled his little red riding hood act last week. It got so bad he had to swallow the last of his meal off-stage. He'd get him back though. Right now. He gaped wide, stuffing the bound human's head at his maw, not caring that the hat fell to the ground, it wasn't edible anyway.
The human tried to kick, but his legs were tied together, and the wolf had his left claw grasping over his rump firmly. He felt his face slam into the back of the hot tongue and the soft palate together, shuddering as they spread apart, leaving his face pressing into the tight demanding throat. He had seen enough shows to know his face was making a swell in the wolf's throat, and that from his positioning, everyone in the club could see that!
The wolf rumbled, and took his first swallow, the gulp broadcast all through the club as he used his strong arms to get the human practically vertical over him, visibly using a finger to torment the bare human's ass as he swallowed again, the squirming meal's face disappearing into his chest, where it was a visible bulge for another moment, before it slipped out of sight.
Scabs felt the top of his head bump into something, shuddering. It was bad enough he was being eaten, but that sharp claw kept prodding at his tender ass, threatening to become much more painful if he didn't calm down with the struggling. Then his hips crossed the sharp teeth to the inside of the wolf. He felt like he was beyond the point of no return, though that was probably far earlier in the evening, like entering the club or swatting a mouse's ass.
The applause wasn't dying down. Gulp after gulp brought renewed cheers and catcalls as the wolf stuffed the troublesome pig into his gut, reaching up to where the edible bindings had been fashioned to look like cloven hooves on the humans feet, smirking at the artistic touch. He fell to his knees, leaning forward and gaping his maw wide, putting those faux hooves right on display as they slid into his mouth, and back into his throat, slowly out of sight with a loud "glssssk..." on the loudspeakers. One paw grasped the police cap from between his legs and put it firmly on his head, rakishly tilted to let one ear be exposed as he dramatically gulped one last time, his gut bouncing and squirming as his fluids dissolved the bonds. The wolf panted, contentedly, grabbing one of the sticks from the fallen house. A nightstick. He swung it dramatically as he belched aloud, groping his squirming gut playfully, then his fat wolf erection for the audience to see. He grinned broadly, "There's a new law in town."
At the back of the stage a sweet, naked mouse boy skipped across, only adorned in a red cape and hood, carrying a basket.
The wolf winked, adjusting his cap before slinking off stage, more gulps sounding over the speakers as he got out of sight, although in reality, he was molesting the sweet waiter, his boyfriend.
The owner walked over to the couple, smirking, "Have a good meal?"
The wolf nodded with a grin as he nonchalantly mounted the naked mouse boy, "nice touch with the cop hat."
The fox seemed unfazed as his actor and waiter got it on, "I think it sent a very clear message. You two may have the rest of the night off. You've deserved it, helping me get rid of an annoying financial liability." He patted the presently thrusting wolf on the back, and ruffled the moaning mouse's ears affectionately. "Maybe you two would like to do a catch and release show on softie night?"
The wolf grinned, "Sounds like fun, doesn't it, sweetie?"
The mouse blushed and nodded slowly, biting his lip as he felt the big knot bouncing off his rump.
"Count us in." The wolf rumbled.
"That's my boys." The fox grinned. He walked over to a horse who was calmly stretching out his shaft with a sounding rod the width of someone's shoulders, "Prepping for tomorrow night?"
The equine rumbled, "Oh yeah... I love Alt night."
The fox grinned, patting the equine's heavy sac, "I know you do. Gotta keep these nice and plump for your fans."
Meanwhile the wolf had knotted onto his little boyfriend, and the mouse let out a little muffled squeal of delight. He knew that they were backstage, and another act was likely on by now. The wolf stood up, panting, and carried his mouse boy on his knot out the back, smiling as the murine tenderly rubbed over his gurgling gut, both glad to have that nuisance out of the way. The wolf was still wearing the police cap when they left the club, knowing no one was on the beat to bust them for indecent exposure.
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