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The Devil May Care

Part 39

for DuskCypher

by Draconicon

Before the box, he'd had a name that meant something. He had been someone, someone that had power, influence, and who had been feared throughout...he didn't know where anymore, but somewhere. Somewhere big, somewhere that was filled with magic and...and...

It had all been before the box, though, and he had little memory of those times. They were too far away, too indistinct compared to what he was going through right then and there.

"Nnnngh...mmmph...mmmph..."

The boar strained against the rubber that pressed down on him from all sides, feeling the constricting grip that it kept on his body. Some tiny part of him wanted to resist, but the rest of him, sweaty, warm, needy, horny? It didn't care. It liked it and craved for so much more.

The thud, thud, thud of the machine built into the back of the box continued to hammer against his asshole, pushing rubber flesh further and further into his hindquarters. His ass cheeks rippled, bounced, shook from the impact and the thrusting, and he moaned into a gag that covered his mouth all too well. Not a single sound escaped from his lips, not a single word escaped from his throat. He was truly, utterly bound in place, and there was nothing that he could do. Not with the box around him and not with the spells that were layered over and around the box.

He was fucked. He was getting fucked. He was a fuck-toy.

Mmmmph...

That phrase hurt the part of him that was so deep down, that was getting hammered by the pleasure again and again. Once, they had power. Once they had had power through their hunger and their desire for more. That hunger had been replaced, given something else to focus on. Something entirely dependent on the pleasure that they were getting up their ass. More, more, more, that new part craved, and the more that it craved, the less power that the little voice in the back of their head had.

More....more...

Their cock hung hard beneath their belly in the cramped confines of the box. It was throbbing, begging for release. Their hunger for pleasure even encompassed that feeling, that constant desire that burned just ahead of their balls, that throbbed and pushed and rolled between their legs, begging for that final bit of stimulation that would release them from the perpetual need that was building up down there. The need to bury their cock in a hole would have surpassed that of the most dominant lust demon, and there was nothing that they wanted more.

Nothing that they could get, at least.

Porker. That was the pig's name, now. That was the name that the spells kept pushing down on it, making it remember, making it call itself. The other part remembered their old name, but it was so quiet, so distant, that Porker didn't really care about what it might have been. Unless it brought pleasure with it the way that old guests brought food and power, there was no need to know the old name. This was the better name, the real name for what they were doing now.

They were deep down in that needy space, deep down where there was nothing but the dildo up their ass and the sweat on their body and the feeling of that rubber all over them pulling tighter and tighter, when the box started shaking. Not from the touch of someone else, not from the touch of the cat that had put them in there, but from someone else, something else, something smaller.

Something weaker.

Something that they could fuck.

The locks and spells that kept them down started to break, and Porker grinned through the gag that held their mouth shut. The chance to get out was finally there, and as soon as the locks were gone...

There was a dissonance, the little voice, the old voice speaking up. It had hope, they realized, something that it hadn't had for hours. Days? However long they had been in the box, it hadn't had anything, and now it was trying to hold onto the little thing that it had been given.

Get out. Run away.

But that wasn't what Porker wanted. They had been locked up, teased for so long. They deserved pleasure, they deserved more than that. They deserved...they needed...

The pleasure was so strong, the dildo in their ass so nice and big that it was hard to think of anything else right at that moment, but they needed to think clearly. They needed to make a decision, or they were going to be locked away again the minute that they popped their head out. The master had been the one to lock them up -

The enemy! the other voice insisted.

The master, the enemy, the cat. The cat, the agreed-upon term. They had been locked up by the cat, and if he came by, then he would put them right back in. They needed to decide on something, to take their pleasure or to run, and Porker was still stronger than the other name. Porker wanted pleasure, and they were going to take pleasure before they did anything else. If they did do something else, they could do that after taking pleasure, after getting the relief that their cock needed. After all, were they going to get that far with their cock calling the shots, while they were covered in rubber and their asshole was burning with need?

The other voice couldn't argue with that, and fell silent. They were going to get what they wanted, and that was final.

The locks finally faded enough for them to push, and push they did. The top of the box ripped right off over their heads, and they were able to slide off the dildo with a slurp and a pop. The feeling of it popping loose of their asshole was something utterly wonderful, but that was hardly going to be enough to get them off. Rubber trotters grabbed the edge of the box, dragging them upright so that they could look down on the one that had released them from the box.

It was another cat, smaller than the one that had locked them up, perhaps two-thirds the size of the black-furred one. It was a house-cat in shape and color, and that meant that it was weak. A sniffer, a searcher, not a fighter.

Porker grinned, slowly oinking as he dragged himself free of the box. Yes, himself, as the other voice was too weak to stop him from taking the pleasure that he wanted, too weak to slow him down or drag him off to another focus. They were going to fuck, and they were going to cum.

The big-eared feline tried to turn and run, but Porker still had power. Porker still knew a few tricks. He opened his mouth and lunged forward, the distance between them in the plane disappearing. He was right behind the cat and shoved him right into the ground, knocking him off his feet and then right into the metal, knocking the air right out of his lungs and leaving him pinned in place.

Mine, Porker thought.

Ours, the other voice thought.

It didn't matter which of them was right, as long as they got their pleasure. Their cock was throbbing, and even though it was coated in rubber, even though it was nothing but a toy now in so many ways, they were going to rut. He pushed his cock down, rubbing it between the feline's ass cheeks as he squealed and moaned, oinked and grunted in preparation for rutting that tight little hole.

He pushed himself forward, feeling the tip of his cock rubbing against a rim that was most definitely not ready for him. Did that matter to Porker? Not in the slightest. He remembered that he was a demon, and what demon cared about being kind?

Thrust, grind, thrust, grind, pre-cum staying inside the rubber, not sliding out, not staining that hole. It didn't matter. Pigs swam with their stink, filled their noses with their rut and their musk. It was the only mercy that the cat was going to get. He wasn't going to end up stinking like a boar by the time that they were done, and he should be thankful for that, because that was the only thing that he was going to get.

Pop!

The tip of the pig's cock finally slammed in, and the cat went stiff and tense under his rubber trotters. Some words came from the other voice, things to say, things to do to break down the little feline beneath them, but the words would not come. The gag that they had prevented them from saying anything but oinks and squeals, and those were coming free in plenty. They were filling the air, making it impossible to miss what was happening. A pig was dominating a cat, and in some small way, that satisfied the need for vengeance that the other voice had.

Not the need for pleasure, though. Even as that tight hole clenched down hard on his cock, Porker felt the need to take it further. He pinned the cat to the metal floor of the plane, rutted him hard, thrusting so hard and so fast that the entire craft seemed to shake around them. Forward, back, forward, back, each time making that pucker clench all the harder around his shaft. He was forcing it as far in as he dared, as far in as his big body could make it go, and the little cat didn't even have the ability to take more than two-thirds of it.

More...

The hunger that had been part of them for their entire lives overwhelmed them, making them go harder, rougher. They needed to see the whole thing inside. They pinned the cat down at the shoulders, holding him down with their greater size and weight, forcing their cock as far in as they could make it go. Another inch, a third, a fourth, each time going just a little further and seeing that hole breaking further.

"L-lord..."

The cat was trying to say something, something that almost tweaked at Porker. It definitely grabbed at the other voice, but not enough to make the thrusting stop. Even as the other voice tried to slow them down, Porker made them go harder.

No...must...hear...

The other voice's thoughts weren't enough. They needed to fuck, not think, not listen. They were so horny, so needy, that pleasure was the only hunger that they had left. They needed so much more, needed to be fulfilled again, needed to have that big, fat butt swallowing them up until they came properly!

Should...escape...

The other voice just wouldn't leave him alone. It had gone so quiet in the box, had become so close to nothing, but it kept clinging to the boar by the skin of its teeth. Porker just wanted it to be gone, to allow it to wallow in the pleasure forced on it. The need to be just a butt-fucking pig was so strong, and he wanted that ass so bad. He didn't want to think about running off or leaving. That would mean that the pleasure would stop, and the rubber-fucker needed that pleasure, needed it to focus, to feed itself, to have that need fulfilled.

There was something in the other voice, something that was irritated with Porker, but in that moment, pleasure was all that mattered. They were getting something around their dick again, and Porker loved it, and even the other voice felt it was better than the dildo that had been getting rammed up their ass again and again by the box. They needed...needed...

Hunger...hunger...for...pleasure...

That was all that mattered in that moment. They needed to feed the hunger that they had for pleasure.

"Lord, please! Please, it's - nnngh!"

The feline under them collapsed again, gasping for breath as he was fucked. The constant hammering thrusts that the boar managed to deliver were hard enough to ram the air right out of the smaller feline. They were nearly strong enough to break his tail when he landed the wrong way, when he slammed his big body against the smaller one. He needed...

He picked the feline up, shoving him against the wall and holding him there. The cheeks were spread so wide around his shaft, that pucker showing itself to be completely unready for this. This was the way that demons fucked, though. Violently, ruthlessly, without quarter and without mercy. He was going to break this hole so that it always remembered him. He was going to turn it into a cock-sleeve, nothing but a hole for a dick to be buried in.

As he kept thrusting, the feline kept slipping further and further down the wall, going limp now that the shock had passed. There were moments when there were huffs and hisses of unwilling pleasure, but there was no doubt in Porker's mind what this was. This was a rut-rape, something that wouldn't stop, wouldn't end until he was satisfied, no matter the protests of word or body that the other male had.

There was nothing that he wanted more than to cum, and nothing that the other voice wanted more than to stop and leave, to take this somewhere else, to be somewhere else. If they must fuck the cat, why not do it somewhere where they weren't going to be stopped if the master found them? What if they did it somewhere hidden, so that they could keep going and never have to go back in the box?

But Porker knew that would mean having to stop, even for a short time, and that wasn't acceptable. Just one orgasm, Porker promised, and then they would move, then they would go somewhere else, somewhere that could be more private, but one orgasm just so that they could feel some hint of satisfaction after all the pleasurable denial that they had been put through in the box.

Forward, back, forward, back, their rubber cock ripping through that ass, tearing it up and leaving it utterly broken. He could feel that there was more and more looseness the further that they went, the harder they took it. They were finally hilting on every thrust, rutting that hole so hard that they were all but breaking it permanently. If they hadn't been coated in rubber, they would have soaked the cat in the stink of boar pre and boar cum and boar sweat, but there was nothing there. No wetness to make it easier, no slickness to take the sting out of the thrusts. There was only the brutal force of a rubber cock getting rammed in again and again, and the fact that the boar was getting high off his own pheromones.

Porker oinked and whined with the need that was building up in his massive balls. They were swollen, badly so from the constant hunger that he had been enchanted to feel. The magic was still thick and strong around him, forcing him to feel that hunger, the hunger to cum, the hunger for pleasure, the hunger for indulgence.

Hunger...for power...

Not for that. Only the other voice wanted that. It wanted them to be powerful, while Porker just wanted them to have pleasure.

Go...run...

Not until he was done. Not until he had at least one orgasm and marked this cat butt as his at least the once. He just needed the one, the one time that would give him the satisfaction that would take him over the edge. He wanted to feel his cock swimming in his own seed again, rather than just his pre-cum. He wanted to feel all that pleasure one more time, to see someone break under him as he rutted them, to feel that utter bliss of satisfaction.

Thrust, thrust, thrust.

Each time that he slammed in, the cat whimpered. At least, for the first few minutes. Then after that, he went quiet, then he went limp, then he went slack. The gripping, the occasional spasm down below just didn't grip him anymore. He whimpered and whined in need, wanting to have that back, wanting to have the feline pulling at his cock again. Maybe...maybe a different position.

He carried the unconscious cat back to the box, shoving him over the edge of it. That pucker had been fucked so hard that the rim was red, bright red, and puffy besides. It looked like it was starting to turn into a donut of a hole, built for nothing but fucking, and that was appealing enough to keep him throbbing and dripping, his balls throbbing and churning between his legs like a good pig's should be. He needed to rut. Needed to fuck.

"Mmmph...ooooink..."

The sound was shameful to the other voice, wanting them to speak normally, but Porker was a pig. A big pig. Why would it care if it was sounding something like a shameful beast? It was a lustful beast. He was made either to fuck or get fucked, and that meant that he had to embrace his true nature.

He grabbed those hips and slammed in again, feeling the pucker parting before him. The new position must have done something, because the feline screamed as he slammed in. A splatter of feline pre-cum hit the side of the box, and he realized that there were still juices inside to be fucked free. That...what was something that he could focus on. That was a pleasure that he could take.

No...leave...

Porker pushed the voice down. He was going to fuck, and he was going to fuck hard.

Thirty minutes passed, and then an hour. The feline had passed out again, but Porker had yet to have his orgasm. He whimpered as he slammed in again and again, the tightness growing and waning by turns from how hard he had rutted that hole, and how inflamed it had become, but there was nothing there that could get him off.

Too long...run...run...

The other voice was driving him mad. He wanted it to stop, he wanted it to leave him alone, he wanted it gone. Porker wanted to be alone in his own head.

My head...you're in...my head!

The other voice was wrong. This was Porker's body. This was his place, his body, his self. He had been broken, was being broken? He didn't know, there were too many things going on. His thrusts began to slow, and the cat didn't respond, didn't even try to pull itself up from his lap. He had taken a different position again, this time holding the feline in his lap like some treasured pet, but he had been humping away all that time, dragging the little bitch down against his cock again and again. The feeling of those soft cheeks against his trotters had been great, and he was sure that he had left some sort of imprint on them after fucking them for that hard and that long. Whether it was enough to truly break the little slut, though, he didn't know. He hadn't marked him yet.

Porker groaned in true frustration as he finally pulled the feline off his cock. His dick felt like it was going to explode, felt like he was going to lose his mind if he didn't find some way to cum. His balls felt like they were bloated worse than ever, begging for the chance to blow, begging for the chance to release their load and finally have the relief that they had been denied for far too long. They were begging, pleading, pulsing, churning more than they had ever done before.

And he still hadn't had the chance to really get them off.

"Nnngh...mmmph..."

Then, just as he was about to give in and try and leave, he heard footsteps. Not loud ones, barely more than the soft tap, tap, tap of a predator in the woods. He stopped his humpings, looking past the little, big-eared feline to see what it was.

The other voice froze, went silent in his head, but Porker could feel the rage coming off that presence. There was so much anger there, so much fury. But he was happy.

Why? Because it was the Master.

The black-furred feline approached him with a smile on his face and his head tilted slightly to the side. He looked down at the little cat, the unconscious one, and then looked at Porker.

"Well, well. It seems that we had a little sniffer around."

"Mmmph...oink, oink."

The Master reached over, touched the side of their face, and just like that, speech returned. Porker could talk, if he wanted. He wasn't entirely sure that he wanted to.

"You want to cum, don't you?"

"Mmmph...please..."

No! the other voice roared. It's a trick!

Porker winced, and the black-furred feline chuckled, rubbing his cheek. The feeling was almost affectionate, and would have been if it wasn't tinged with something else. Some sort of amusement? It was strange, feeling someone amused at the fact that he was hurting, that he was so needy, so hungry, so desperately. The pig groaned under his breath, shaking his head.

"Please..."

"You want to cum so badly? I believe that you have earned that."

And just like that, the other voice went from pushing him to cum to trying to hold him back. Porker groaned as he felt like invisible fingers were pulling down on his balls, dragging them further between his legs, keeping them from drawing up in the final pleasure of orgasm. He whimpered, turning back to the little bitch on the floor, shoving his cock past that inflamed pucker once more. The feeling of it was wonderful, but that hesitance, that holding back -

"You've been a good Porker, haven't you?"

"Nnngh...yes..."

"You fucked the intruder."

"Fucked...fucked...fucked..."

"You want to cum. Teach him a lesson. Feel better. Feel full."

"Fuck...yes...so bad..."

"You want to get rid of that annoying little hesitation, that annoying little voice."

Shut up!

But the cat was right. He did want to get rid of the other voice, he did want to get rid of that thing that wouldn't shut up and wouldn't let him relax and enjoy himself. He wanted to get rid of it, wanted to make it disappear, wanted to cum it out of his head so that he never had to hear it again.

Little encouraging scritches took away the frustration and the misery that the other voice had bestowed upon him, all the wants that they couldn't have, all the hungers that distracted them from the true hunger that they needed to focus on. The hunger for cock, the hunger for hole, the hunger for pleasure: those were their concerns, not hunger for power. They needed to do that, do that for Master, do that for -

Stop! No! I will not...I am...Brutus...Diel...

The voice was saying a name that no longer meant anything for Porker. All that mattered was the pleasure, the hammering, thrusting, rutting, fucking feeling that came from being balls-deep in a slut that didn't know what was going on. The feeling of that sweat-wet rim and the inflamed, puffy, slightly tight inner walls pulled him deeper, dragging his cock further into that hole, feeling it squeezing down on him and begging for his seed.

No! Don't do this to me!

"Come on, little Porker."

"Nnngh..."

"Come on..."

No! Don't listen!

"Cum for me."

And that was, effectively, the key in the lock. The cat's words, the little whisper of what he wanted to do anyway, the feeling of being finally able to defy and deny the other voice in his head, was what pushed Porker right over the edge. He threw his head back with the loudest oink that he could manage, squealing and wailing in pleasure, and he emptied his balls right then and there.

It was, perhaps, the most powerful orgasm that they had ever had. Certainly, in Porker's short memory, it was the best one that he had ever had. His balls pulled up, and those churning, swelling orbs were finally allowed to loose their load. The Master even reached down, opening the very end of the rubber sleeve at the end of their cock to allow him to burst properly. He moaned, thrusting his hips against his Master's fingers, feeling every throbbing swell down there, every pulsing burst that ran up through his shaft and made his urethra bulge from the sheer amount of boar cum that was being shot free of his shaft. It was so, so, so good.

Particularly as he watched it swell, fill, and then overflow the little slut under him. The feline was bulging in the guts from just how much boar demon seed had been spilled, and even more started to flow up and around his rim, forced out by the thrusts that the pig was making.

That Porker was making.

That he was forcing down, not the other.

He was vaguely aware of the other voice, the loud voice, the mean Diel voice slowly fading away, giving him the freedom that he had believed he wanted. He still believed that, and he still craved it. The quiet that came from the powerless voice fading away from his mind, the lack of distractions that it offered, made him feel almost as much relief as the feeling of his balls finally being drained away. It was like all that bad stuff was going right out of his cock and into the little feline's asshole.

He kept spurting for nearly three minutes, draining himself so utterly that he almost fainted from the fluid loss. He was only kept upright by his Master, the black-furred feline rubbing his back and keeping him focused on what he was doing. Little whispers reminded him of how good it felt to drain himself for his Master, how it felt to give it all up, to let it all out. He moaned as he allowed it all to go, feeling like his balls were all but empty by the time that his cock stopped shooting.

Then, and only then, did he slump back. His cock popped free, half-hard, with rubber slowly creeping back up the sides and reforming the sheath that he had been wearing. He moaned softly, feeling the way that it was covering his cock and taking away some of his sensitivity, but none of the hunger that was just below it.

Mmmmm...

Porker was happy. Empty-headed, hungry for more, and he was happy to allow himself to be led back to the box. Any thought of running around and finding more was never going to be followed up on. The feeling of pleasure, the hunger to be filled up rather than doing the filling returning to him. He had a dildo in there, a machine that would fuck him with it, and that was all that mattered to the horny pig right then and there. He wanted to get fucked, and that meant giving himself over to the need and the pleasure and...

And...

No more thought, he realized. Porker didn't need to think. Porker just needed to do what he was told, and submit to his hungers. When he wanted to rut, the Master would feed him holes. When he needed to be fucked, the Master would feed him cock. That was all he needed. That was all he would ever need.

The Master lowered him back into the box, and he felt the chains coming back. The magical restraints that held him on all fours, that made sure that the box would be strong enough to keep him in place. They were all formed again, stronger this time than before. Chains of Sloth that made his arms want to stay where they were. Chains of Envy to make his cock feel like it wasn't good enough to fuck others. Chains of Pride to make him feel like he was good enough to deserve this sort of treatment, that of a proper fuck-pig.

And finally, chains of Lust draped right across his ass cheeks, parting them and holding them in place, and making his asshole feel that much hungrier. He groaned under his breath as the first little rubber contact to his rubber hole happened, and he oinked and squealed for his master as the dildo started plundering his hole again.

"Nnnnngh...oooooink!"

"Good pig."

The hand on his head, a little rub of congratulations, was the last thing that he felt before darkness fell. The box was sealed, and once more, he was locked down with the machine and the dildo. This time, however, he was all alone, and he loved it.

#

Lord Darith expected a surprise when the morning came, and he received it. Unfortunately, it was not the sort of surprise that he had hoped for.

Tossed before him via a portal of black energy was the very sniffer that he had sent down to the plane, and he knew that the sniffer had been caught out. Any documents that might have been seized, any physical evidence of shame would have already been taken. Darith was not so foolish as to hope that the mission hadn't been utterly compromised; at best, Dusk now knew that there was suspicion of him, and that the House of Sertus wasn't entirely on his side, regardless of what Selene had been telling him.

Yet, there was still the possibility of some profit out of the whole mess. The gray-maned lion leaned back on his throne, his crimson cloak wrapped around one arm and giving him a cushion of sorts against the hard rock. He looked down at the feline, and looked at the big-eared shame-sniffer with the eyes of Pride's Judgment.

What he saw was a mess. Whatever joy and confidence that the feline had had in his skills had been burned out of him. Fear had replaced it, as well as an empty hole in the soul that would not disappear. The little thing had been so utterly punished, so broken, that it was doubtful that even his powers of Pride could replace what had been taken from him and fill the hole that had been left behind. The fact that Dusk had such power on his side was something that he should have expected, and the lion demon made a mental note of that.

Still...

"Report," he said.

The big-eared, spotted feline slowly looked up at him. The cat's eyes were unfocused, rolling slightly like those of a traumatized madman. Darith waited patiently as he could, managing to restrain his tapping fingers, but not the twitches at the tip of his tail. The minutes stretched on, and the shame-sniffer had yet to speak. He was about to order the feline again when his spy's mouth finally opened.

"I saw him..."

"Saw who?"

"The captive. Someone...someone on the plane."

"Who was it, then? Some hostage? Diel's son, perhaps?"

"No...it...it was Brutus."

Darith sat up a little straighter on his throne. While he was aware that his rival in House Diel had been captured, he hadn't thought that Dusk was idiotic enough to carry him around with him on his travels. It was just begging for the boar to make a break for it, to tap into one of his old contacts. But if that was the case, why hadn't he heard anything of the escape? Unless it had gone wrong, but then...

The lion put the pieces together. He looked at his spy again, and the hole in the shame-sniffer's core made more sense to him.

"Brutus. He is on Dusk's side, now."

"N-no...he...he's not even..."

"What is it, then?"

"He's not Brutus...not anymore...He's...'Porker.'"

"...Porker?"

"Yes...Dusk broke him. Broke him hard...he's...he's nothing like himself."

Yet still has all of his power, judging by what he's done to you, Darith thought, seeing the hole that Gluttony must have eaten through the feline's confidence and pride. There was a giant, gaping hole left, like someone had reached in and scooped out the core of the cat's identity. Only a very powerful Gluttony demon could have done something like that, and Brutus was among those numbers, yet even he would have held back from doing that to someone so inconsequential.

Darith shook his head. Dusk was worse than he thought. Much, much worse than he'd thought if he was willing to break his captives to this point and then not keep a leash on them.

Mortals...never taking responsibility for their own actions...never seeing the consequences of what their desires demand...

It had been the case since the start, ever since the mortals found out how to summon demons to the world above. They always begged for favors, and then never took responsibility for what those favors entailed. They were never willing to accept the blame for a fire, or for a famine, or for the fact that every 'favor' still cost them something. They wanted it for free, or not at all.

Demons, at least, had an idea of price. Demons, at least, understood what was demanded.

Yet...

You've given me more to use against you, Dusk...and one more reminder of the power that you have. One more guardian that I will know how to side-step in the future...

That power would be a dangerous bit of security, but there were ways around it, meals that would tempt it. As long as this 'Porker' wasn't turned his way, then they would be fine. And with Dusk having a trip in the offing, visiting more of the realms of Hell, Darith would have time to think his way forward...

The End

Summary: A rather unfortunate moment for one Brutus Diel, locked in a chest with a rapidly developing personality that only cares for the hunger of pleasure, and the true joy of the flesh. It seems that he will have a chance to indulge that hunger pretty shortly.

Tags: M/M, Boar, Pig, Mind Control, Corruption, Rubber, Anal, Domination, Size Difference, Gaping, Feline, Demon, Hell, Series, Modern Fantasy, Cum, Orgasm, Edging, Master/Slave,