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The Pigman's Precious Sow

The battle for the little village had been fierce for a place that boasted one wood lot and a market square but the beastmen had joined forces with the human soldiers and together they had managed to beat back the undead before they got the run of the place.

The pigman, Rogast, let out a loud snort and patted his great mace clutched in his three fingered hand.

“We gave them quite the run for it," he grunted.

“For the moment," the bullman said.

The bullman, Groke, had big horns and an easy way about him. He had been stationed in the town for a while but not as a soldier, as a woodsman trying to help the humans put the forest back the way it had been before it had become infested with skeletons. He was decked out in the leathers and feathers his tribe preferred and looked just like a bullman of old.

“We bished their heads in!" a young man shouted, raising his fists.

He wore the spiked leathers of a barbarian warrior but was about half the size of the average one. Rogast let out a loud guffaw and gave his young charge a pat on the head.

“Bashed," Rogast said, “is the right word."

“Have any wounds that need tending Thrith?" Groke asked.

“Bashed their heads in," Thrith repeated, “and of course not. We were amazing! Rogast was incredible!"

The big pig man chuckled, his large stomach shaking from his deep laughter.

“He's blushing!" Thrith said, “look at him! Such a modest warrior! You should take more credit, all the milk drinking soldiers around here wouldn't last a minute without the mighty pigman of the woods!"

The human soldiers that ambled by gave Thrith quite the annoyed look but the general of the crew, an older man who had been at war before the village had even been founded, just laughed at him.

“If our mighty Rogast is the pigman of the woods, are you the shortest warrior of the wood?" the general said.

“I'm not done growing yet!" Thrith shouted back.

The general laughed mightily, his big cheerful face lighting up in mirth.

The young Thrith was definitely a fully adult human man but a bit lacking in length of bone. It had probably to do with his rough childhood, Rogast had come across him when he had cleared out a thieves den. They had been starving him, using him as a bait and who knows what else. Thrith said he had come up from the southern barbarian lands with his family and that they had met a bad end when he was but a child. But Thrith was smart, and a barbarian through and through and had learned to wield the weapons of war quick and effective under Rogast's careful tutelage. Now as a grown up man, he was a tough little bastard, who loved to fight. Just as Rogast did.

“Where are the porcine tribes these days?" the elder general asked, conversationally.

“Not far from here," Rogast said, “it's why I came back, to check in with my chief. The pigmen are advancing alongside the undead, unfortunate for them."

“The chieftain will complain about how you're not married," Groke said, “that's all mine moans about."

The general was amused, “if a lass takes your fancy here, be sure to ask her father for her hand before trying anything."

Rogast flushed, it wasn't as if most humans knew about beastmen or how they mated. Or that the vast majority sought out human men who appeared practically delicate to their sensibilities. And he was going to keep it that way as long as he could. The last thing he needed was a trumped up group of ragged human soldiers deciding they were enemies over a perceived slight.

Rogast snorted, “would be easier to be married if these woods weren't constantly beset by the miserable dregs of Del-anin."

“Then how would we get paid, to spend it all on the local grog," the general said.

“He has a point," Groke snuffed, bemused.

After such a mighty battle, the soldiers and beastmen alike retreated to the modest town Inn. It was likely the biggest building in the place, as it also provided some lodging to those who traveled for work and made their living chopping wood. There was a heap of gold laid on the table split up into piles. Some of the soldiers had already taken their share, as the Innkeeper kept careful count in a ledger. Rogast glanced at Thrith who had already taken his gold and had spent some on a tankard. He was now shouting drunkenly the words from a dirty song, rather badly in his thick barbarian accent.

He couldn't help it, Rogast let out a chuckling snort.

“The chieftain would approve," Groke said, startling him, “it wouldn't be shameful to keep such a man. And he likes you quite a bit."

“Don't be ridiculous," Rogast said, flushing slightly, “I've known him since he was barely a boy."

“He's not a boy now, hasn't been for quite some time. And I'm just thinking about your own interest, is all," Groke said, raising his furred brow.

That evening a very drunken Thrith was manhandled back to their room by several well meaning soldiers. Rogast sat on a small human chair next to the bed which caused it to make an alarming creaking sound. But it held him well enough, and Rogast could sit at the window and look out towards the edges of the wood and the beautiful starry night. The pigmen had a saying; there was always the chance when one fought in great battles that one would lose what's most important along the way. As the undead were closing in on the human lands closest to their border, Rogast knew that the signs for the town's survival weren't very good. The mighty pigmen would asses the situation but they wouldn't fight for a losing quarter, their great wisdom in war meant they also knew when to retreat. The humans weren't so discerning, and while Rogast admired their powerful drive to fight to the death he was also unnerved by it.

He wouldn't be surprised in the next few weeks if the humans were told to clear off and retreat to the eastern borders but he wasn't entirely sure if the soldiers would listen. Many of them had family nearby and many more were paid by how many skeletons they laid at the feet of their general. It was considered easy and lucrative work.

“Mmfh Rogast," Thrith mumbled from his heap on the bed.

Currently there were people far more important to Rogast than gold for fallen skeletons. The undead never backed down once set on a sure path to victory and the pigmen knew as well as anybody that the undead fought for the greatest glory of all. That of love. And it made them one of the most dangerous foes in all of Belinthal because of it.

“We go to our beloved," the skeleton had hissed on the bloody battlefield, “to the dark of Sevri to be embraced by our necromancer's arms!"

The smash of a mace hitting the head of a skull had always been a satisfying sound. Especially when he knew a young village girl had been eaten by the bastards earlier in the week. But then he had heard a cry and saw a crew of the bony skeletons surrounding Thrith. Rogast had been about to dismember them, snorting his warriors rage and getting ready to strike. But Thrith had flipped one over, then climbed the other's shoulders. And in a moment, he was using their own half rusted swords to smash the skeletons to bits.

Perhaps it hadn't been a glorious rescue but the danger of skeletal numbers was a threat that loomed heavy in his mind. What if Thrith had made an innocent mistake, or tripped? Or any number of incidents that can happen in a war that could spell a man's doom? They were fragile, these humans. More delicate than they would ever think, considering their rash behavior.

“Rogast," Thirth murmured, his voice a little closer.

“Oh," Rogast said, “you're awake?"

“Mm," Thrith said.

Thrith nearly fell over the chair when he crawled forward and Rogast had to help him up.

“You can't be that drunk," Rogast said, beady eyes narrowing, “it was only a flagon."

Thrith smiled, “but I'm an excellent actor."

Rogast let out a snortish sigh, he knew what was coming. It always did after ale.

The hands of the small barbarian gripped his enormous piggy thighs and rubbed the bristles in a pleasing way. Human hands were so soft, even the roughest among them felt nice against his tough skin. And the small barbarian also had the benefit of a very handsome face, a well shaped chest and strong looking legs and a thick backside, barely covered by his rough, leather spiked loincloth.

“I want to, Rogast," Thrith said, “don't turn me away."

Rogast didn't say anything, he didn't want to spoil it. He didn't want to turn the human away though he knew in the name of decency and respectability he really should.

After manhandling the heavy metal belt, Thrith nestled his way under Rogast's big stomach and began pulling his member free of its protective codpiece. Rogast's piggy cock was big and sloped, with a slight twist to the surface the way all pig men had. This hadn't put off Thrith in the slightest, not even the first time he got down on his knees and saw it stiff and erect. Large and thick like a great pink slug.

“Mmph!" Thrith said, as he began sucking the tip.

There was a lot of cock and a lot of stomach, it drooped down and touched the dusty blond hair on Thrith's head. It was so erotic seeing such a pretty human going down on his big pig cock, Rogast almost couldn't contain himself. The chair creaked dangerously as he shifted his weight on it.

“I love them," Thrith moaned, “your big balls."

Thrith began licking them, sucking them into his mouth one by one.

“They're awfully sweaty," Rogast said.

It was shameful, here was this young barbarian in training, licking the sweat off Rogast's testicles like a common harlot and he didn't seem to mind a bit.

“Mm, the smell," Thrith moaned, rubbing his soft face against him.

The young man was truly debauched and that was long before Rogast ever got to him. Thrith seemed to be attracted to his big belly and large form straight away. But Rogast wouldn't have it, not until Thrith was well of age and more sure of himself. And now, Rogast was the one who was so terribly uneasy about it, while Thrith seemed determined to have whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted.

“Only take the tip in your mouth," Rogast said, panting a little, “just the tip."

“Mmh yes," Thrith said.

With an erotic wiggle, Thrith shimmied out of his loincloths and armor and then began to touch the very end of his tongue against the tip of the pigman's big cock.

Rogast let out a disgraceful squeal, this was real pleasure. Denying himself what he really wanted, until he could stand it no more.

The young man was buried, practically nestled under his large stomach lapping noisily at his tip like a cat with milk. He could feel the hot breath against the head of his penis, could smell slightly the light human scent of arousal and sweat. How he wanted to do the unspeakable and throw Thrith onto his back and have him, break him into a slave for his big pig cock.

But he allowed Thrith only to suck him off, it was too risky otherwise. Especially now, when emotions were high from battles fought.

“Mm ohh!" Thrith let out a surprised noise as a glob of precum came out in a rush and dripped down his throat.

“Soft human," Rogast grunted, in his porcine language, “beloved human."

He knew Thrith wouldn't understand him, he'd only hear a series of strange grunts and squeals. While looking at the softly illuminated ash gold hair, Rogast was seized by his sudden lust.

He grabbed Thrith's hair in his three fingered hand and pushed him down more forcefully on his cock. He could see the bobbing erection of his human, could see him flush and moan and feel his adoration of being forcefully encouraged to swallow his cock.

“Sggrreee!" Rogast let out a pig squeal of bliss.

He thrust all the way down into the throat of his small barbarian and used his face as his pleasure hole, he pounded into it without stopping for anything. And Thrith was flushed all over, his penis squirting cum onto the floor. He was loving every minute, body ablaze with the pleasure of submitting.

“Take my cum," Rogast said, in a normal human tongue, “gobble it down you greedy creature. Swallow it all up!"

“Mmmgghh!" Thrith let out the most disgraceful moan.

It was enough to send him over, all sorts of torrid images went through his head as he came. Ones like his great, piggy body mounting Thrith's smaller form. Or of stopping in the woods before battle with the heat of arousal burning through them and sliding his big, pink cock into Thrith's blown open hole. Better yet, of Thrith swollen up and pregnant, his nipples pierced just as the brides of pigs were supposed to be. A glorious, battle ready sow for his war hungry piglets.

“Ahh!" Thrith gasped.

He had slowly slid off the massive pig cock, cum splattered down his chin and his shoulder length hair was softly spackled with a few sprayed drops of jizz. He was flushed and his chest was slightly pink, his nipples were hard and Rogast reached out and gently tweaked one of them.

“Rogast," Thrith gasped.

He closed his mouth and swallowed the thick, odorous pig man cum greedily, his throat working almost the same way it had when he was choking on cock.

With the chair dangerously creaking, Rogast rose up to his full height. He was still flushed and he wiped down his cock with the cloth next to the cleaning basic that was nearby.

Flopping onto the bed carelessly, Thrith reached over to the bedside table and took a swig of more ale.

Looking over at the small human, Rogast couldn't help but blush. He was so handsome, so smooth and soft with his nude skin devoid of fur and bristles. He wondered if humans knew that to beastmen even with clothes on, it was like a human was naked all the time.

Thrith had closed his eyes but Rogast snuffled his way closer.

“Haha!" Thrith giggled, “you're tickling me you great oaf."

“Am I?" Rogast said.

How he wanted him. How he wanted to do what the war pigs of old did when they came across handsome young villagers in their path. In their war paint they would burst into the village late at night and steal who they may, carrying them away to be loved and bred by the best and biggest pig men of them all. And Rogast knew even by the standards of his ancestors he was plenty large and could have held his own even against the most aggressive of his kind. He would have Thrith twenty times over by now, bred him with a veritable small army of piglets.

How Rogast enjoyed imagining going to war for the pleasure of breaking in Thrith's tight, pink hole. Though he supposed it wouldn't be rape with Thrith willing and moaning under him. Thrith would have still been a slut for pig cock, he was sure of it, no matter what.

“Why are you looking at me like that?" Thrith said, slightly smirking.

It was embarrassing to be caught thinking such things and Rogast flushed an even darker pink all over.

Rogast snorted, “no reason."

Shuffling his way into bed, it creaked loudly as his great weight settled on it. Thrith rolled over and draped his small human arm over Rogast's enormous belly. It was so incredibly domestic, it was breaking his heart. Why couldn't things be so simple nowadays? The old ways had their charms, perhaps his ancestors had been incalculably wise in foregoing anything decent and respectable and just taking their wives into the woods with them.

The warm human body squirmed against him, “tomorrow, I want you to eat my hole."

Thrith had whispered the words hotly against his hear. Rogast grew even more flushed and a little sweaty at the thought. He loved doing it, but Thrith was sometimes embarrassed by how much he enjoyed being subdued by a pig man in that way. He was still a barbarian male, when it came down to it. No matter how much Rogast imagined him with large tits and a swollen belly.

“I would like that very much," Rogast snorted into his fine sandy blond hair.

The next morning was terribly unromantic and fraught with miserable duties. Everyone was at the edges of the village with shovels, dirt and enough logs to build a few minor defenses. The bullman, Grock, looked at him with a knowing, if downcast gaze.

“We have to build them up," the general said, “if we have any chance of fighting them off again. When is your tribe showing up, again?"

“In three days," Rogast said, “they're moving through the woods on the east end. The south is filled with undead and they've seen at least one cave orc."

The general went pale, “they're serious this time, then."

“What the hell is a cave orc?" one of the new village recruits said.

“Something you don't want to tangle with," the general snapped.

Grote coughed slightly then snorted, “the cave orcs are a grim species that normally live underground. Sometimes undead employ them as scouts. They're usually paid in the living slaves of those they subdue."

The villager paled, “slaves?"

For a moment, Thrith stopped his frantic shoveling. He had been hefting huge boulders, his muscles bulging. For such a tiny man, he certainly lived up to the expectations of barbarian strength.

“They prefer elves but they'll take humans if they can't get a hold of anyone with pointy ears," Thrith said, uneasily, “Rogast has fought them before."

“I have," Rogast said, chest growing with pride, “and I won."

“Barely," Thrith said, “I'd rather not see them again."

It had been a close fight and one of the few times Rogast could have called himself seriously injured. Thrith had stayed by his side the whole time, until his fever had broken and the wounds had healed up. He still had a few scars under his bristles from the strike of the scimitar and he hadn't killed the cave orc, only beat him up enough to send him packing.

“They're very unusual and difficult to fight," Rogast admitted, “a little unnerving."

Grote made an annoyed sound, “they're extremely dangerous. Avoid them if you can, run from them and hide. They're skills are more akin to a powerful magic, swords and bows don't always work. Sometimes a warrior's own weapons are turned against them, they're not worth direct combat for all the damage they can cause."

When the shoveling was done, the tired crew made their way back to the Inn to have a few pints of beer before turning in. Grote cornered Rogast, and beckoned him over. There was a game of bottle toss going on outside and Thrith was trying to out throw the general. While the general was gray haired with age, Rogast still thought the older human had a few tricks up his sleeve yet, and was the perfect foil to keep the undead at bay.

“You know what this situation will be in a few days," Grote said, “we need to get the villagers out of here in a week. We'll both be asked, no, more like demanded to return to our own people by our chieftains."

“My people aren't going to make their decision until the assess the situation themselves," Rogast said, slightly distracted.

Outside the window he could see Thrith shaking his backside as he threw the tankards and the barbarian style loincloth was barely keeping him decent.

“You should breed him," Grote said, “take him with you."

“W-what?!" Rogast snorted, nearly at a squeal.

“Before the old general recruits him into the military, I heard them talking. A barbarian soldier no matter how small is terribly useful. They're built very strong. But he's only thinking about it because he's not so sure what you want from him, I can tell," Grote said.

“What do you know about romance between pigs and their so-" Rogast blushed, it didn't sound right to say the full word in human speech, it almost sounded rude.

“I know plenty about calving," Grote said, with a knowing look, “my village has grown quite a bit recently. But I'm not important, think about yourself. Think about the small human, this is going to become ugly very soon. The village is going to be abandoned and those who want to leave will have to go with almost nothing."

The pig man heaved a sigh, “Even when they do come, you're probably right. It's the way war is with the undead, it's not worth anything to fight an army with no end for a scrap of land."

“But you don't have to leave empty handed," Grote said.

He gave Rogast a pat on the shoulder, Rogast heaved a snorty sigh. The bullman just didn't understand, pig men weren't considered particularly attractive or interesting to humans. Not the way a noble looking wolfman was, even gnolls had an easier time. The pigs showed their abilities when put the test, they won great battles with their size and shrewd war mongering skills and that's what made them famous among beastmen. But Thrith would be a great warrior in his own right someday, surely, having a pig man's children wasn't particularly appealing compared to that.

When Rogast went to get up, he heard a shout and then a blood curdling scream. He rushed outside and saw Thrith collapsed onto his stomach. There was a streak of blood everywhere and at first, he thought the worst. But as he stood over his small barbarian in a panic, he realized the source of the blood wasn't an injury to his companion.

The pale orc stood by the edge of the woods in the moonlight; gods, how Rogast hated the look of them. Slick, pale green skin and wide pink colored eyes that bulged and shifted in their deep set sockets. They did look like an orc, somewhat but the raggedness of their teeth and glisten on their skin gave them away every time. It was said they came from the god Ungun-ur, the most fearsome and evil of all the gods of the land. And it was him that they resembled in appearance, sometimes, Rogast could even believe it.

“Listen to the message of death," the cave orc said, his voice magically booming over them, “we have spilt blood in the name of the forest. We will spill blood again. The dead will rise and join the deathless armies, this is the will of Del-anin."

It was only a second before Rogast was about to hurl an axe straight at the bastard's face but Thrith had grabbed his hand from the ground, stilling it.

“They want you to do it," he said desperately, “look out there!"

In the woods were shadowy figures, sloped and crouched and to the chill of his blood Rogast saw the terrible stooped bodies of undead lurking in the shadows in great and numerous profusions.

“The people don't want any war!" Rogast roared.

The chittering and clattering of skulls could be heard as the cave orc stood his ground, bulging eyes observing all of them.

“Then give us a sacrifice," the cave orc said, damp eyes swiveling towards Thrith, “by the night of the next day. Or else, this village is ours. Hear me, humans? This village will be ours!"

The cave orc and his undead companions retreated quietly back into the darkness. They were just egging them on, Rogast was sure of it. They knew no village would ever give up one of their own.

“My god," one of the soldiers exclaimed.

To the left of Thrith, the old general laid on the ground dead. His skull cleanly split by an old, rusted axe. Clearly the work of an undead. They really wanted the land, though Rogast was at a loss as to why they'd go to so much trouble for a piece of deep woods and a very small mill.

“I don't like this," Thrith said, “this isn't the way they normally behave, is it?"

“For undead or cave orcs?" Rogast said,

“Both," Thrith said.

“No, it's not," Rogast said.

It was likely there was something in the village that the undead wanted and it would do no good now what so ever to stay and try to foil their grasp of it.

“Do you know what they want?" Rogast said.

Grote let out a bullish snuffle, “not a clue. But they're not going to leave without it."

The village crowded around them and Thrith clung to Rogast's arm. He was unarmed, he'd just been knocked about and smacked when the general had tried to keep him from being harmed.

“They want him," the soldier said, “he's a barbarian. They want his strange magic added to their own."

“NO!" Thrith shouted.

It was understandable that Thrith had issue with the mere mention of being sold like chattel considering his origins.

“Hush now," Rogast said, hoping to sound reasonable, “there's no fighting them. Even if we gave them what they wanted, they'd just take the village anyway."

“But they might not," the other soldier said, “we've been here for years. Isn't Del-Anin bordering on human villages? They leave them alone sometimes, maybe this is as far as they'll come!"

“I'm not going to a be a cave troll's wife!" spat Thrith.

“Let's all just think on what to do overnight," Rogast attempted to placate.

The villagers had a grim cast about them and Rogast recognized it well. When Grote stood next to Rogast, he shuffled his hooves and his brow knit in worry. Without the older general to keep the peace, it wasn't looking good for the three strangers to town.

“You've been good to us, sir Pig," the lead soldier said, “we'll take council and do as you ask. Think on it, overnight."

His gaze fell on Thrith and Rogast felt a jolt of panic. If anyone tried to steal Thrith away, they wouldn't be long for this world and he doubted he could stop himself even if he'd wanted to reason with them.

Back at the Inn the mood was a bit subdued. The older general had been collected and his body hacked to pieces by his trusted men. There was no taking chances with the undead, later it would be burned in a funeral pyre and deposited with his ancestors. The drinking began early and many were slumped over in their seats before midnight, drowning their sorrows in ale. There would be no singing of bawdy songs on this night.

Glancing back at Rogast, Thrith made his way upstairs. Not long after, Rogast drank down his glass of ale and followed. The bull man grabbed his arm as he went by.

“Remember what I said," Grote nodded at Rogast.

Rogast heaved a snort, “you don't understand humans or how difficult they can be, it explains why you've got no wife!"

Rogast was being rude but he didn't care, he left it at that and went to his rooms. There inside, Thrith was staring out the window at the night sky.

“I'm sorry about the general's death," Rogast said, “I know he was your friend."

“General Eishelm," Thrith muttered, “that was his name."

“Oh," Rogast said, human names were so difficult for him, “I'm sorry for General Eishelm's death."

“S'fine," Thrith said, his gaze still outdoors.

Shuffling his huge form around, Rogast sat on the bed and removed his boots. He reached for his belt.

“Let me," Thrith said.

“Oh?" Rogast said.

“What I said last night," Thrith said, while turning around and flushing, “I meant it."

The thought of having Thrith made Rogast spring to attention, no matter what terrible things had went on during the day. After Thrith undid Rogast's belt, his cock sprung free, swollen and enormous.

“Ooh," Thrith said, eyes widening, “it's twitching when I look at it."

“It likes you very much," Rogast said, with a snort.

“I feel the same way," Thrith said.

He began licking the tip, then sank down almost immediately. Rogast let out a piggish squeal, he couldn't help it. Thrith's mouth was a hot and tight beloved hole. But after a few good sucks, Rogast was certainly ready to hold Thrith to his word.

“Take off those clothes," Rogast said, “and get down on all fours."

Thrith turned nearly scarlet, he turned his head away blushing furiously.

“I always want to have you this way," Rogast snorted, “it's a tradition of my people, didn't you know?"

“Oh, is it?" Thrith said, amused.

“What's a pig without a trough?" Rogast snorted, chuckling.

This also made Thrith laugh, the domestic pig and the mighty war pigs maybe had a minor resemblance in appearance but they were worlds apart in many ways.

“All right," Thrith said, “but don't make any comments or I'll leave you to your hand all alone."

Quickly and with as little grace as a barbarian could muster, Thrith shucked his loincloths, boots and robes. It was such a rare thing for Rogast to see his human so completely nude. He had such a pleasing man's body, a far cry from the skinny boy he had found when they first met. He was very happy to have him now, all grown up and so mature with a pleasing chest and hard pink nipples.

The sight of Thrith getting on his hands and knees made Rogast's over eager cock twitch and dribble. It was so glorious, that tiny pink hole. And Rogast delighted in the struggle he had to endure, not to plunge his big cock straight in and have a good long rut, until Thrith was spewing semen from his well worked man cunt.

His piggy snout twitched and he moved his enormous form over onto the bed. The wood creaked as he leaned down and snuffled, lightly, the pink twitching orifice he was presented with.

“Heh," Thrith gasped out, “that tickles."

The bristles of Rogast's snout and maw were gently scratching Thrith's backside.

Rogast extended his thick, piggish tongue and began licking. Stroking, lapping the delicious human tastes and smells. How sexy it was to be devouring the moist, supple male pucker between his snoutish lips. How he made disgraceful piggish sounds of his own while he ate out his lover's juicy hole.

“Ahh!" Thrith groaned, “Yes! Devour me! Ooh!"

They were trying to be a little bit quiet, it was an Inn after all. But it was terribly difficult, here was his delicious human spread out before him, a rare treat. So he dove his tongue ever deeper, and squirmed it inside the hot warm, human heat. He lapped at the edge, he ate and feasted as the soft suppleness grew slightly swollen from his attentions. He made sure to dive his thick tongue between the folds and imagined his own cock doing the same.

“Ahh! Ooh! Ooh! Rogast..." Thrith moaned, and twitched.

Rogast could see his barbarian cumming, see Thrith's thighs convulsing and twitching. Thrith fell from his elbows onto his shoulders, face pressed against the coverlet. When Rogast drew back from his human's twitching, well laved hole, the sight of it glistening, drooling and opening made his cock twitch with barely restrained passions.

“Ah, Thrith," Rogast said.

Quietly, from a distance near the door to their rooms, Rogast could hear human voices.

“We'll get him in the morning," a soldier said, “if we spike the pigman's breakfast. A little potion and he'll be too fat and lazy to bother fighting us."

“Then we'll toss the little barbarian to the cave orc," another voice answered, “better him than us."

If there had ever been a time when Rogast saw red, it was then. The thought of some vile cave orc mounting his lover made him seethe and heave with barely contained rage. He snorted and let out a territorial squeal.

Thrith murmured something like, “don't worry, we'll be gone before anyone tries anything," or some other placation but it fell on deaf war pig ears.

This was a direct threat to his claim, how dare they! The hate inflamed him, it burned into lust. The war pigs didn't live by letting humans walk all over them. They battled and fought and brutally destroyed everything that had stood in their way. Whole kingdoms had fallen and been consumed by their hooves and hunger, they weren't lazy or merely fat. They were robust and strong. Terrible and powerful!

“Rogast?" Thrith said, curiously.

With his territory at stake, nude and smelling sex and his own lover's hormones tinged with lust it would have been fair and fine to suggest that Rogast for a moment, went a little bit crazy. They weren't going to have his man, Thrith belonged to him already. He would belong to him, properly! As his sow!

“You're mine," Rogast snorted, in his strange piggish language, “my sow!"

“Rogast?" Thrith said, slightly panicked, as he couldn't understand a word.

He did however, begin to understand when the heavy hand gently pressed next to his head and the enormous weight of a slightly crazed pig man pushed him down and began sliding his massive, slightly twisted cock into the twitching hole of his human.

“Ohh! Rogast!" Thrith said, “What are doing? Ooh! I can feel you! I can feel the tip!"

“No one's having you but me!" Rogast roared, in squeals and snorts.

With the burning, unbearable notion that Thrith would be stolen from him if he didn't mark him as his mate, Rogast thrust in without much care for the virginal man under him. But it wouldn't have mattered, the cocks of the pigmen were moistened and slid in their mates easily, even when they didn't want it. Thrith had never asked for it outright because for all his bluster he had been terribly nervous about being refused. But now, feeling the sudden slide of a big pig man's cock, he definitely wanted it in all the way, as deep as it could get.

“Ahh! Oh, Rogast," Thrith moaned, his body opening up so easily, “my love!"

“Your hole's so hot," Rogast groaned, “it's going to eat up my dick. I can feel it. I can touch your womb with my tip!"

With quick deep thrusts, Rogast buried himself in his lover. His enormous pig body nearly completely covered the much smaller Thrith who moaned and twitched, barely able to move under all the pigman's girth.

“You're fucking me," Thrith moaned, “ohh! Does this mean- Ohh! Ohh Rogast, are you trying to knock me up?"

Squealing loudly with delight at the thought, Rogast thrust himself deeply inside Thrith's swollen and worked open hole. His balls clenched against the hot flesh of his human's ass, the feeling was incredible.

“I'm going to fill up your womb!" Rogast grunted, “Here it comes! Open up, sow of my heart! Take it, take it all! Have my young!"

“Ohh! I want your cum! I want to have your babies!" Thrith moaned, “Cum in me! Please! I beg you!"

With wild final thrust, Rogast felt his balls tighten up. He was dumping cum inside Thrith, filling him up to overflow.

“Ahh!" Thrith cried.

Thrith had thought he'd been ready for the violent torrent but he hadn't been. His insides were spattered, absolutely doused. His insides were wickedly soaked in stinky, thick pig man cum.

Panting slightly, Rogast let his thick tongue hang slightly out of his mouth. The lover under him had no idea of the lust of pig men, of their dark pasts. All he had known was his kindly friend, his mentor and eventually his lover. But the beadiness of Rogast's eyes gave away the nastiness that all pig men hid. He slowly removed his still hard and dripping cock.

“Oooh," Thrith said.

Slowly Thrith made his way onto his hands.

“That was good Rogast. Will I really get- I mean, it's not very likely is it to get pregna-" Thrith stopped in his questions as he noticed Rogast's strange face he was making.

It was so bestial and so unhinged, his eyes were nearly glowing from the strange wild essence all beastmen possessed.

“Rogast?" Thrith whispered.

This was the pig man of legend, a wild and untamed beast with appetites never sated. Rogast twitched his head, he let out a rageful squeal. He pushed Thrith backwards onto the bed and aimed his thick and slightly twisted cock back inside Thrith's freshly brutalized hole.

“Ooh! Noo-oo!" Thrith moaned, surprised, “oh gods! You're breaking me, Rogast! Rogast! Ohh!"

“Take my dick," Rogast grunted, “take it sow!"

Being pressed down by an enormous pig man was a smothering experience, the massive girth of his bristled flesh overwhelmed Thrith in a cacophony of wonderful smells and delirious pleasure invoking sensations against his soft skin. He felt the hard cock pounding him, taking him. He couldn't stop cumming, his whole small body convulsed and twitched.

“Take me harder," moaned Thrith, filled with delight, “I'm your sow. I'm your pig wife! Mate me! Don't let them take me away from you!"

With a rough and brutal squeal, Rogast thrust down deep and hard. His cock spewed more loads of semen into his lover's overstretch hole. When he slid out he looked down with pride at his human lover's gaping hole. It was so deliciously pink and gaping, he thrust back in again. He couldn't stop now, pig men mated for many hours. His human lover was going to be ruined by the end, Thrith was going to pregnant and filled up with his semen just as a sow should be.

“Take my kisses," Rogast grunted, “stick your tongue out, sow."

It was a phrase delivered in pig man so Thrith didn't understand at first. Then he saw Rogast's tongue slowly sliding out of his mouth and understood. He pressed his own small pink human tongue against Rogast's giant red tongue. When his piggish maw overwhelmed Thrith's smaller face, he loved it. Moaned against him, he tasted pig saliva, he tasted something so overwhelming and manly he understood what he was under such a creature. He was the pigman's sow, the wife of a beastman, even if he wasn't the least bit feminine according to anyone else. To any other race anywhere, really. The barbarian man had been broken, changed by a love for pig man cock into a willing, submissive pig man's bitch.

With Rogast's massive three fingered hand, he clutched his tiny human lover's palm with his fist. This was the true talent of the pig men, not their kindness or skill in battle but their endless appetites and voracious lusts.

“Oohh," Thrith moaned, gasping, “I can feel your cock's ridges. Ohh! I can feel it twisting up!"

The hard thrusting slowed and pressed deep. All Rogast could think was how his human was submitting to his cock, how he was becoming his bred sow. How the human's male cunt was being opened by his cock and made into a place for piglets to grow.

“Take my cum," Rogast said, squealing in his porcine tongue, “you're the only one I've ever loved enough to do this to! No whore ever had my get! No lover was ever impregnated! Take it! Take my piglets! Become my sow! Be mine, for always!"

“Ahh! Yes! Yes!" Thrith cried, not understanding a word.

Once again, his hole was coated in pig man spunk, it gobbled it up. It worked inside of him. It changed his mind and internal body with its strange magical properties. Twitching and shaking, Thrith shuddered all over. He couldn't stop cumming himself, he swore he could feel the tip of Rogast's cock against his womb. He could feel himself getting pregnant, could feel the sensation of belonging to Rogast alone, growing. And it was wonderful, after all he'd been through in the past. This was the only man he ever wanted to give himself to.

“Ahh, I belong to you now," Thrith moaned, “no one else matters. Not at all."

The needful mouth of the pigman pressed against his own. The large thick tongue violated his mouth, it claimed him. It took him in the way he loved, he was a barbarian after all. They knew what war and brutality meant. And this taking was just as much an act of love to Thrith as any caring act Rogast had ever done.

Once the heat of their fucking had smoldered and Rogast could bare to part from his human lover's newly broken in hole, the dawning of potential trouble became apparent.

“Oh no," Rogast said.

Thrith was panting, eyes glazed and nearly delirious.

“That was good," Thrith said, “so good."

Rogast trembled, but this time not from pleasure. He clutched his human to him, who flopped limply in his arms.

“I'm so sorry!" Rogast said, nearly in tears, “I got carried away! What those men said...it was wrong of me. Very wrong!"

“What?" Thrith said, too tired to understand.

“I've hurt you," Rogast said, getting even more tearful, “I've done something unthinkable! And I didn't even ask!"

“It's all right," Thrith said, “I liked it."

“But you're a human!" Rogast said, “You don't know our ways! And so young and just- I shouldn't have."

“I'm an adult!" Thrith snapped, tiredly, “You're as bad as you were the first time we made love. Can't you have your moment tomorrow after we sleep? I'm all messy. I need to clean up."

“Huh?" Rogast snorted, baffled.

“I'm all grown up," Thrith reminded him, “I can do as I wish. And get off of me, you great lump."

“I-suppose," Rogast said.

His voice went up a notch, he still wasn't sure about anything at all. But his piggy cock twitched, he knew at least that he'd want him again.

“Don't get up yet," Rogast said, a little too desperate than was proper.

“Again?" Thrith said, aghast.

“If you're going to be a pig man's wife," Rogast said, “you'd best get used to it."

Thrith stared at him, and Rogast went even pinker than normal all over once he'd realized what he'd said.

“I mean-!" he attempted.

“I'll be your wife," Thrith said, “if you want me. Though, I'm not very good at cooking or whatever it is women do. Though, you don't marry women do you? So I suppose it doesn't matter."

Rogast snorted, happily. Then began to laugh.

“It's a good thing I don't have to depend on you for cooking," Rogast began snorting.

“Shut up!" Thrith said, turning red, “I only burned the soup that one time, and it was a good thing it lit that bush on fire or we'd never have escaped the sudden ambush of those thieves!"

Rogast pressed against his handsome, beloved human and kissed his mouth. Then he crawled on top of Thrith and made him squeal in a different way many times again.

The next day it was another grim scene at the edge of town, the soldiers had gathered around them.

“We're taking him to the cave orc," one of them said, “if you want it, or not."

“I'm not going!" Thrith said, raising his spiked club threateningly, “I don't want to hurt you but I will if you come any closer."

Rogast would have seen red, he would have smashed his way through the soldiers with the mere thought of them hurting Thrith or taking him from him. But underneath Thrith's barbarian loincloths was a well fucked hole filled with Rogast's precious impregnating cum. And the thought held him steady, they could get out of this without injury, he was sure of it.

“Who's side are you on, Grote?" the soldier demanded.

The bullman heaved a sigh, he shuffled his way next to Rogast but didn't look particularly happy about any of it.

“I see," the soldier said, flushing.

“Do you think the general would have approved of this?" Thrith demanded, “he was a good man!"

“See reason, humans," Grote said, “the pigs are arriving soon, they'll help you escape. Winning against the undead with the might of the cave orcs is a foolish prospect. Not even a fully stocked castle could do that, let alone a full town. They have magic and conjurings, and have probably tracked every tunnel under this land."

“Even if you're right," the soldier said, “we're prepared to stay. We're prepared to give our life for this village!"

Just then the Innkeeper strode forward. A tough woman who had been slinging ale for soldiers and putting up with their nonsense since she wa a girl. She bashed the soldier over the head with a shovel. It would have been quite a wallop, though not deadly and he fell down stone cold.

“Anyone else?" she shouted, “these good people are here to help us. If we start now we'll have a chance to get out of here, with more than the clothes on our backs! Rogast, when your people arrive-"

Just then the forest trembled and from its darkening bowers came the pig men in profusion. Big, massive porcine warriors in thick leathers. Rogast was a very large man but he wasn't the largest or biggest of his people, though he certainly could have held his own against them. These were the hardened sort of pigs who made their lives doing mercenary work and crafting war.

“Rogast!" the biggest pig of them all roared, “this town's in trouble! We've got to move before the dead come spilling over that mountains! The cave orcs found a path, the demons are behind them whipping them like dogs. This is a fools' game to stay any longer, it's a terrible mess from start to finish for everyone. We lost ten good pigs in a surprise ambush already!"

“We knew it was coming," the Innkeeper said, firmly, “everyone! Follow the pig men's guidance! Do everything they ask! We will survive this, your lives are far more important than anything you leave behind!"

The Innkeeper began rallying, and as the unfortunate soldier was helped up by some of his other men, the town came to life. It was filled with rushing, running people going this way and that trying to gather up what they could of their lives.

“How horrible," Thrith said, voice filled with sadness.

“Even if you'd been given to them," Grote said, “they would have come anyway. They're not to be trusted, sometimes humans don't always understand."

“No one gets my so-" Rogast stopped himself just in time and flushed wildly.

“Who is this now?" the mighty pig chieftain demanded.

“Thrith!" he practically shouted, “I'm a mighty barbarian from the south!"

“That the one you trained up?" the chieftain said.

“Er- yes," Rogast said, flushing a shade pinker than normal.

“Good. He can come with us, then," the chieftain said.

The chieftain snorted at the young barbarian, he knew Rogast's foibles. Too much time spent in human company and practically raised by their towns made him funny about things that ought to be natural. And the little barbarian man, he glared at them all with a dark brow and a look of challenge. It was a good match, there'd be loads of little war hungry piglets to train up in the art of war making, he was sure of it.

“Bring your bride," the chieftain snorted, “to our camp. They should be properly welcomed and don't expect you're getting out of this lightly. There will be challengers for such a get!"

Rogast snorted, “I expected as much, it's why I hesitated. See Grote? Marriage isn't as easy as you think."

“I can hear you sulking," Grote said, a smirk on his face, “but I know your skills. You'll do fine."

The pig men and Grote helped the villagers, Thrith rushed along carrying children and even going back for any remaining precious objects they wished for. It was as the majority were clattering away on the prepared carts that the dreaded attack finally came.

“Look at them all," Thrith said, in awe, “how can so many undead exist?"

The village was filled with walking corpses, the sky darkened as their magic approached. It twisted into a strange violet, Rogast thought they likely had a progenitor already with them, poisoning everything with their putrefied touch. But he didn't see any unfortunate people that would look beautiful and alive and be anything but.

“This is very serious," Rogast said, “they brought enough to start a new undead city."

“It is," Grote confirmed, “these are the armies of Del-anin, the eternal city itself. I don't know where they're going in the end but they're claiming this place as their own."

A skeleton wizard blew a magical fire from its gaping, tooth filled mouth. The roofs lit up, and the town was swallowed almost entirely by fire in an instant. In the rapidly vanishing light it became clearer that the undead were more than just dry bones but also fetid flesh, enormous vast hulks of rotten parts all sewn together. And their great heaving forms and the bent backs of undead ghouls shimmered in the fire red light as it glimmered from a growing distance.

Thrith clutched Rogast's arm.

“I feel like a coward," he said, “but I understand now. Why no one's won against them in this war."

“Don't worry about them," Rogast said, “besides, not long from now we'll be at Belghast, the human city. And shortly after that, I'm bringing you to the pig town, Parcentia."

“Is that so?" Thrith said, “I've never been."

Rogast heaved a mighty snort, he tried to be confident. He really did.

“No humans are to go there," he said, “unless they're married. And we're to have a proper wedding, with challengers and a feast and everything."

Thrith scoffed, “I suppose I did say yes. All right, challengers and all are allowed to come to our wedding but the food better be good and lots of it, if we're going to do what we did last night all the time."

Rogast let out a surprised snort and began chuckling as they held hands. Despite the horrible events of the day, he was quite happy. Soon, he would be mounting his precious sow again and together they'd have many children.

It was at least something to be happy about, even if the world seemed to be in terrible peril as the sky lit up bright and orange from the town's demise.

FIN