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All it took was a few sidelong glances and the deal was made. A subtle nod there, a gesture to the men’s room, a smattering of winks and dirty rolls of the tongue, they were both just pigs at heart looking to get that hunger quashed.

Though one was more of a literal swine than the other; the pig boasted a swell of a gut, a single look already declaring to the ape that it was nothing but sheer muscle beneath whatever fat it pretended to be. The boar’s shaggy, coarse pelt was scattered with tattoos that ran deep to the skin, plenty of them telling the gorilla all he needed to know as he made eyes at him from across the heaving bar. Forearms bore the markings of a measuring ruler, counting inches from the wrist up to the elbow, and it implicated a lot as to what the boar liked to do with his mitts when getting frisky. Other pieces of ink established a simple set of commands, between worship, eat, suck, and above all else submit. Typically the ape didn’t go for blokes like him, as the pig bathed in the stink of authority from his heady musk, but his mood was quickly slipping to letting the brute bend him over and take what he wanted.

Tonight was Boot Camp night at the local fetish bar, a hotspot for the gay scene in the city and tonight’s event had only one rule: boots only. Staff wore cheap looking military outfits, some others got away with a cap or two, maybe some shades to tie together an ensemble of command, but otherwise all the men strutted their stuff completely nude. Dicks and rumps hung free and exposed as the crowd thrived and thrummed about the room, gropes abound in a senseless orgy of polite admiration. Few were bold enough to take it further, the exhibitionists among the men relishing the opportunity to perform for a captive audience, and likewise the voyeurs could admire in absolute anonymity. After all, nobody knew each other’s names, not if they didn’t want to, and all people were was something fresh to fuck that had a pulse.

The boar slipped into the toilets first, making sure the ape saw where he was going, before he followed after. Harsh fluorescence burned the bleached tiles which still seemed to bear some grime of forgotten orgasms, mirrors streaked with palm prints from where someone must have been bent over the countertop and rutted as they held on for dear life. A condom dispenser hung on the wall, but it looked as if it were a relic from decades ago, and most likely wasn’t even stocked or working, stuck in a dark corner of the bathroom practically pointless to all the virile males who’d rather dump seed and swallow than bother with rubbers.

The gorilla took a deep breath of the rancid air, a taint of chemical cleaner, a swathe of musk, the overwhelming and unforgettable stench of sex, and he growled happily to himself. Before him, shaking a bottle of some colourless slime, was the boar, leaning against a sink, idly admiring his reflection in the mirror. The two of them stood together in that tight space, the difference between them much clearer. The boar was far larger than the gorilla, his gut more pronounced, not much on height but his weight was far greater. The ape though was muscled, he’d taken time on his build whilst the pig seemed content with whatever effort he managed. Already he could feel himself getting hard at the thought of what they were going to do to one another as his eyes focused on the bottle in the pig’s meaty fist, too viscous to be water, too obvious to be anything else but lube. Eventually though the ape met the boar’s gaze, the hulking male smirking, and with a gesture of his head he nodded to the vacant bathroom stall,

“In,” he cut, the word enough to give the gorilla an immediate sense of his character. No nonsense, pure control, a dripping charisma that made him irresistible. He didn’t even need to be told twice as the gorilla pushed his way into the almost too tight cubicle, barely enough room to shrug his shoulders comfortably. It became an even tighter squeeze once the boar sauntered in behind him, not bothering to even shut the door as he pushed the ape up against the porcelain bowl, braced against the cistern. There were no pleasantries of dirty talk, nor were there even the formalities of safe words or kinks, it was straight to the action. The gorilla found something wet slipping between his ass cheeks and before he had even the breath to voice any protest, had there been any, it was strangled into a guttural grunt as not one, not two, but three fat fingers shoved their way into his guts. The boar’s paw was already huge compared to most, much like the rest of him, and three digits punished his hole into submission, stretched tight around them as struggling not to clench,

“Fuck!” The ape spat as he pushed against the wall, ass bucked into the boar’s paw, “Take it easy!”

“Shut up. You can take it.”

Any protest more from the ape was drenched between unrepentant grunts and growls as the boar ground three fingers in his ass, slathering more lube against the gorilla’s cheeks until drips splattered to the floor in ugly puddles. Three fingers worked to four, the flat of the boar’s palm digging between the gorilla’s buttocks as he stretched his rim out wider and wider. It was clear what he wanted, how far he was prepared to go, and the gorilla didn’t once try to stop him as he lifted one leg, boot clomping against the grimy rim of the toilet, ass spread to the boar so he could really drive his stubby fingers into him. He felt the thumb curl, more lube slaking his rear, and then came the tight pressure of a ducked fist pursing into his hole.

“Let me in.”

The boar was at his ear, one thick fist wrapped around his nape while the other dangerously forced its way inside the unfortunate gorilla. Every ounce of him wanted the boar inside him, he positively feasted on his raw, greedy energy as he ground his ass back against that gargantuan fist. His rim split wider, soft flesh parting to the unrelenting force of the boar’s gloved paw, his body rocked with the inexplicable sensation of invasion. He was consumed by it, his forehead pressed tightly to the brickwork of the wall in front of him and his body shadowed in the lurking presence of the boar stood just inches behind him. He could feel the lust bearing down against him, the rush of control burning in the boar’s soul as all that power was mediated through the arm so determined on driving into his guts. Knuckles pressed tightly against his rim, and with his face pressed against the grimy tiles, one booted leg braced on the toilet cistern, any resistance he once had was wearing down to the thinnest line.

“Fuckin’ take it!”

On a surge of adrenaline that flowed through the boar’s arm into the ape’s ass, any lingering thoughts of stopping or slowing down were burned away as that fist slid finally into waiting depths. There was a savage shriek of carnal need as the ape’s hole was split open around the meaty paw, spread inches wide and forced to stay that way as the dominant kept his fist in place. He writhed and snarled as his fingers clenched around the top of the stall walls as if to keep himself balanced, but it was more to distract his body from the overfull sensation. His knuckles turned white from the strain, his cock throbbing hard from the arousal as he was abused so brutally, and so quickly too, for how fast the boar had worked to ruin him, barking orders like a commanding officer.

They didn’t call it Boot Camp for nothing, he supposed.

“There we go,” the boar snapped, “finally you do as you’re told.” His wrist rotated, so too did his fist inside the ape’s guts. He shuddered at the sensation, teeth gritted as the boar took what he wanted, “knew you were a greedy bottom, plenty of room in here.” Fingers unfurled and squeezed inside him, pressure tightening in his depths. Pre drooled from his cock as if milked by the fist inside him, bearing down on his prostate. “Now brace yourself, boy. Gonna wreck you a new pussy by the time I’m through with you.” His fist thrust forward, not by much, but enough to grab the ape’s attention, a sharp gasp bursting from his lungs, “you ready?”

“Yes...”

Immediately the fist surged deeper, tight, intense discomfort flared through the ape.

“Yes what?!” The boar was at his ear again, tusks pressing at his neck. Danger and power dripped from him as thick as his stench did.

“Yes sir.”

“Louder, so everyone can hear you!”

“YES SIR!”

There was a snort from beyond the stall, maybe a voyeur enjoying the show or a fellow fetishist admiring the workmanship. He didn’t have much time to think about it before the boar’s fist, still clenched into a tight ball, began to pull its way back out. Though he hadn’t been expecting it, it was far too late to voice any concern as the fist stretched his rim back out, obscenely protruding back, gaping at the rim. He gave a deep, guttural groan as his body gave way to the fist, spread wide until the brute’s knuckles cleared the lip of his hole. The sudden emptiness, the violent stretch, ass blown out in a yawning maw, his body wracked with trembling pleasure, exquisitely indescribable as he was forced to wring himself through the feelings.

But obviously if it were to end there, the ape would have been abysmally surprised.

He needn’t have waited, as before his ass even had a chance to close itself back up, blunt knuckles slammed back at his hole. The boar was punching him, brute force shoving his limb back into the ape’s body without a thought for care or caution – after all, he could take it, or so the boar had declared. The sheer power that bared down on him by the boar was bone-shattering, as there was nowhere to go but pressed hard against the wall and grubby toilet while his hole was ripped apart. His hole pitifully suckled on the boar’s wrist as he sunk his paw deep, but he didn’t have long to savour the feeling before the whole fist was unceremoniously yanked back out of him. Again he was left empty, gaping and hungry, and he presented his ass back to the boar with an arched back and invigorated attitude to take what he was being given. Fat knuckles again pounded at his sloppy hole, the grotesque slap of wet meat being tenderised, and the unsavoury gurgle of escaping air bubbling through lube around the invading paw, squelching and slurping as the boar impaled the ape on his arm.

The punches came faster and harder the more time went on. Seconds could have been minutes, minutes to hours, the ape had no idea as his mind was zeroed in on the only sensation that mattered. His ass was ragged and raw, stretched beyond belief and soft red flesh threatening to spill out after the boar’s paw. The boar only growled at the sight of the ape’s rosebud, working to widen it and tease it out as his fist drew bloom after bloom until it felt as if his ass would never close again. He was so painfully hard, cock head tapping at the cistern in front of him as his body rocked and shook against the assault. His mind was awash with straying urges and impulses that feverishly toyed with his waking thought. The urge to relieve his bladder from the pounding pressure, the need to cum yet the inability to do so as his battered prostate couldn’t decide between the pleasure and pain, a tight grip on his abdomen as muscles wanted so very much to contract and force the intruder from inside of him, but doing so would only burst out roses galore, and above it all was the desire to submit and serve, willingly follow and blindly obey to the boar’s absolute whim. He was no longer in charge of his own body, the man behind him with his fist pummelling his insides was, and that thought alone brought him unwavering euphoria.

“I want to see you,” the boar suddenly declared as his punching came to an abrupt stop. His fist, however, had chosen to halt itself right in his guts, pressing deep on the inner sphincters and keeping the ape squirming in alien discomfort. “Turn around.”

It would have made things easier for the ape to adjust himself if the boar had offered to extract his fist, but in that split second of thinking this, he realised that was entirely the point. With some difficulty, the ape manoeuvred his weight about the stall, fist still lodged deep inside him and rotating at the wrist, as the small of his back propped against the cistern, one booted leg planted on the rather dented toilet paper dispenser, while the other was lifted atop the boar’s shoulder. He didn’t seem to mind. If anything, the angle now put the boar in a prime position to really drive his arm into the ape’s gaped cunt.

He looked up at the male whose arm was connected to his ass, where suddenly every twitch and twist rippled up the boar’s limb as muscles delicately controlled the appendage inside him. It was mesmerising to watch, as suddenly all that power and ferocity had all this time been so carefully measured even then. Veins bulged under the boar’s hide, his coarse fur and brawny build glistening with sweat, while the tattoos seemed to only burn under the cold light. His piercing eyes stared down at the ape as he began to pull his fist back out once more, maintaining that hard eye contact as he slowly, painfully, drew his paw back. Though he fought to stand his ground, to keep up the guard of a man who could take it all, there were flashes of sweet agony across his face that he could not hide, and his body belied his true feelings as he shuddered, fist slopping free of his hole.

He felt as if his guts were hanging out of him, that any moment that could all just begin to slide out onto the floor, but it seemed of little care to the boar who rammed that fist back into his ass. Deeper this time the fist went, the new position giving the boar more room to play, as half of his forearm rapidly disappeared into the ape, only to emerge seconds later covered in oozing slime of lube and whatever mess swilled inside him. A tattoo etched into the boar’s arm measured the depth, inch after inch pulling and pushing at his innards. It was almost a trial, to see how deep he could take the punch before his body was forced to yield. And yield he did, as he wanted nothing more than the boar to tear him in two with those bludgeoning fists.

“Hold your ass open,” he ordered, “spread your cheeks. Show me my hole.”

His fingers dug into his own buttocks, pulling apart his toned cheeks to stretch himself even wider for the boar. The punches came at a flurried rate, one after the other as the controlled precision of the male tore into that hole mercilessly. They were nearly elbow deep, god knows how much that was the ape dreaded, but it was endless. His cock rocked over his abdomen as his ass was fucked with punch after punch, nothing now but a bloated, open crater that refused to even entertain the idea of sealing shut. The sound of hard punches slapping at his hole was deafening, as it was all that could be heard in the tight confines of the stall. Of course, beneath that was the boar’s grunting, both their heavy breathing, and the strangled moans of whatever feeling that worked its way through the ape’s chest. Whether it was pleasure or discomfort, or maybe just intense trauma, he had no way of telling, but all he was aware of was that the urge to cum was suddenly becoming a reality that he had no control over. He couldn’t even tell the boar he was about to explode, just a pleading, desperate look that there was nothing he could do. The boar just smirked, hardening his fist and going deeper and faster than ever, as he literally punched the load out of the ape.

A hot, uncomfortable wave hit him all at once as his body succumbed to the onslaught. There was cum, streaking across his stomach and chest. He was only aware, however, that he was cumming when he was shot across the face with his own seed, the heat and wetness taking him by surprise. There was no pleasure to it though, no relief or sense of release. It was just there, his body going through the motions, unloading until his balls ran dry and his body soaked in his own mess. He thrust his head back, panting and howling like a beast possessed, as he rode to the end of the torturous orgasm.

But that didn’t stop the boar. It hardly even seemed to slow him down. Fists still clenched and punching at the ape’s hole, he leaned down close to his impaled, gaping bitch. His gut smothered the ape’s torso, smeared the cum into both their fur, crushing the male beneath his weight and pinning him in place, “That’s one load. Now I want a second.”