FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Written by Choice Cuts Deli

Commission for HairyPigCub | February 2022 | 6589 Words

"So, I said to him, I said, 'Nuh-uh! Youuuu better get out of MY forest, before you're the one hangin' over my mantle!' " The scruffy-furred wolf chuckled, his lanky body rolling back into the loose bundle of hay as he got comfortable. With a toothy little grin, he turned his gaze towards Hans, the rosy-cheeked, pink-skinned porker nestled in the same hay bale. He lay there without a care in the world, barely a foot away from the powerful predator, a bottle of pilfered liquor between them and nothing but the quiet of the night all around them.

"Pffft, okay, but seriously, Tibs" Hans giggled, the warmth flushed on his cheeks as he stared into the canine's silvery eyes. "You're telling me that a rabbit actually tried standing toe-to-toe with you?"

"Well, uh..." Grunting softly, the dashing beast sat forwards, giving Hans a much better view of his body. Tiberius might have been a proud hunter, but the cut of his fur and the way it fell upon his lanky arms and wiry chest suggested that it was not uncommon for him to miss a meal or two. "I guess, uh, news travels fast that there's a wolf who gave up eating meat... And I suppose I did startle him when he was digging up carrots. B- But he made the first rude comment! Honest!"

A meek little grin crawled across the canine's face as he reached down to take a swig from the bottle. Their unlikely friendship was strangely fortuitous. Hans was out in his sty, stargazing after a heavy meal one early Fall night. He almost mistook those shimmering eyes for stars. When the wolf's drooling fangs also flashed in the dim moonlight, the pudgy porcine panicked, only stopping when he realized the big lug was yelping out apologies and whines for having startled him. Through the barnyard fence a friendship grew between the prize porker and the bedraggled forest canine.

Hans always wondered what ulterior motives the wolf might have for his kindness. Those concerns were quickly set aside the night of the blizzard. With the wind whipping and snow driving all around, Hans could hardly hear the cries outside his drafty, albeit heated, barn. When he peeked outside the door, piqued by the odd noises, he saw Tiberius on the other side of the fence, shivering, his fur and whiskers strewn with ice. With all their collective might, the two managed to rip through the chicken wire protecting Hans's home, the canine's life saved by the hefty hog's warm barn. It was a night that would change not only his life, but also his outlook on eating other animals. Well... most animals.

"You know you CAN eat animals, right?" Hans ribbed, giving the wolf a little prod in the gut.

"You know I've only got eyes for one, very particular animal on my menu," Tiberius shot back, licking his chops as he gripped Hans about the shoulders, pushing him backwards happily in the hay. "You might have taught me how to be kind to other animals, but you know I'm not letting YOU slip through my claws, handsome." Planting both paws on Hans's shoulders, the scruffy wolf rumbled with a deep and eager growl as he stared down into the pink porker's rich, hazel eyes. "I promise that my tender pork chop."

"T- Tibs!" Hans oinked, his voice carrying through the barn as he felt the canine's slavering drool dribble down onto his flush-red cheek. "P- Please don't eat me, Mister Wolf," he whined with a hint of playful nervousness. The pudgy porker's heartbeat quickened as he felt his lover's clawtips run down his belly, a tenseness stirring within his loins. This, however, was quickly halted by the tight-fit metal chastity cage wrapped about his cock.

"Ohhhh, don't you worry, my little pork chop. I'm gonna eatcha' all up." Lowering his paw between Hans's thighs, Tiberius carefully teased his paws against the hog's hefty balls, carefully and skillfully manipulating first one, then the other, until he had slipped Hans's nuts out from the close-fit ring. Tossing aside the still-locked cage, Tibs growled as his paw slowly began to jerk Hans off, licking his chops as he got down on his hands and knees. "And I'm gonna start with this tender morsel right here!"

A gasping squeal rocked the barn as Hans felt the wolf's powerful jaws close around his cock, slowly suckling the length. This was not the first time Tibs's magic paws had slipped his midnight lover out of his cock cage. But this was the first time in a long while the pair had the chance to roll in the hay. Not to mention, the jug of stolen alcohol only helped to loosen their inhibitions.

"A- Ahhhh, please S- Sir! I don't... I don't want to-"

"Oh? You don't want to be eaten? Then why are you getting so hard, my succulent ham on the hoof?" Squeezing his paw against Hans's shaft, the scraggly canine growled as he toyed with his meal. "You're not fantasizing about laying back in my roasting pan? Getting tucked into my old woodfired stove. Glazed and garnished, turning perfectly golden brown for my table." Slowly lapping his tongue along the tip of Hans's shaft, the wild beast crooned, "It is almost Easter, after all." Just as he locked his jaws back down around Hans's shaft, the porker's throbbing cock pounding in his throat, Tibs thought he heard something off in the distance that caused him to freeze stiff. Planting a paw on Hans's squirmy belly, Tibs tried his best to hush the drink-addled hog, finally having to pull off the boy to whisper, "Hey. Shhh!"

Blinking, Hans perked his head up, floppy ears wiggling as he realized that he could hear barking coming from the old farmhouse. His eyes widening, the porker gasped, "Shit, that's Farmer Kit!"

In a flurry of fur, bathed in the pale light of the oil lanterns that lit the building, the star-crossed lovers scurried about the pig pen, trying to clean up the evidence of their evening dalliance. But the sound of approaching barking, now underscored by mutters of frustration, signaled they were out of time. Giving Tibs a shove towards the torn chicken wire, Hans barely managed to hush out an, "I love you, hun" as he watched the frightened wolf rump shimmy its way through the hole.

Once Tiberius was outside the fence, he quickly replaced the pile of branches that masked the entry point. On the opposite side, Hans pushed a heavy wooden barrel in front of the hole, doing all he could to mask it. As he heard the farmer fumbling for his keys, Tibs nervously planted his muzzle against the wire fencing. In the fleeting few seconds they had left, Hans smooshed his snout against the chicken wire, sharing a short, if passionate, kiss. "I love you, Hans," Tiberius whispered, his eyes glowing in the pale light as he curled a paw against his boyfriend's hoof-tipped hand. "Next time, I promise."

In a flash, Tibs was off into the forest once more, and Hans braced himself for what he knew would come. The barn door flung open in one smooth and forceful moment. He always hated this part, even if deep down he also kinda loved it. A flash of shadowy fur rocketed through the doorway, heavy paws kicking up straw and dirt as resonant barks filled the barn. Hans shuddered, closing his eyes, knowing in an instant the slavering beast would be upon him. In a swift motion the hefty hog's legs were swept out from under him, his body tumbling to the ground belly-first. Landing with a hard splat in the cool mud of his pig pen, he could feel the heavy knee of a brutish Newfoundland dog come to rest upon the small of his back. Wrenching Hans's arm back behind his body, the beastly brute slavered from his hefty jowls as he turned his head obediently to watch his partner.

With the sharpened focus of a hunting hound, a hulking Swiss Mountain Dog flitted through each stall and crevice of the old barn. The mottled black, beige and white furred hound was intent upon sniffing out whatever strange intruder he sensed, occasionally standing to his full anthro height to peer over or around objects. One final sweep of the muddy pen and the skeptical working hound nodded his assent. "Clear," he growled.

"Hiiiiiii Sammy," Hans grunted, wiggling his one free paw in a flimsy greeting. "Hiiiiii Moose," he added, turning his snout upwards just in time to feel a strand of drool plop down on his face.

"Good evening, Meat," the hulking Newfie grunted, before turning his gaze up towards the doorway and bowing his head at an approaching figure.

A powerful Clydesdale tromped through the mud and grime, the equine holding a lantern in one paw while resting his old hunting shotgun under the crook of his arm. Dressed in his pajamas, the hefty horse snorted softly as he took in the disheveled sight of the barn. Turning his gaze towards the flush-faced porker, Farmer Kit cocked his head softly as he asked, "What's with all the racket, 0808?"

"N- Nothing, Farmer Kit, Sir... I... I was..."

"You heard the announcement for curfew," the fluffy-ankled farmer rumbled in a low growl. "The other animals are all trying to get their sleep."

"Farmer, Sir?" Sammy barked with a respectful hush to his tone. "You might want to look at this." His snout was pointed towards the straw pile, wrinkling a little at the strange jug that sat near Hans's discarded cock cage. "Smells like alcohol."

Kneeling down, careful not to get his nightgown covered in pig filth, the farmer collected the two strange items off the floor. "Hmmpfh. How...?" Cautiously taking a swig from the jug, the farmer grunted as he turned back to Hans with a scowl. "I'm not sure how you managed to get your paws on some of my private stock." Kicking the chastity cage across the pen, he growled, "And you escaped your cage? You best not have ruined your grade, 0808. The county fair is only two months away." Frowning, Farmer Kit heaved a soft sigh as he stared over his two loyal farm hounds. "Sammy, come back to the manor house with me. Tomorrow morning we'll check the root cellar and make sure it's secure." Turning on his heels, the Clydesdale added over his shoulder, "Moose? Why don't you sleep with your favorite little piggy tonight. Keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn't get into any trouble since he's popped out of his cage."

The beastly Newfie's dark eyes lit up at the assignment, "Rrruff!"

"Tomorrow let's have him fitted with a tighter chastity cage. Riveted this time."

As the door to the barn closed and locked again, Moose slowly released his grip, only to flop happily down onto Hans's supple and pudgy form.

"Mmmm... We're gonna have a nice night together, meat," he rumbled, his weight practically squishing the heavyset pig. Playing a clawed paw down Hans's side, he whispered, "We don't want you making any mistakes now... If you don't take first place at the county fair next month...." A thin dribble of drool plopped down onto the back of Hans's head as the massive canine began to tease his paws along the porker's midriff. "...Farmer Kit's gonna have such a nice feast of you. And you know what that means, right?"

"N- No, Moose...?" Hans whined. Of course he knew, but his freed arousal always loved hearing the words, even if he also had to struggle to suck a breath into his squished lungs.

"I'm gonna have scraps of you in my dog bowl... Juuuuust like the last pig we had. Mmm..." Nipping at Hans's ear, firm enough to cause his little ear tag to flick, the Newfie growled as he whispered, "I like it when the crunchy bits get all soaked in gravy. Bacon, ham..." Slowly wrapping his paw down between Hans's thighs, Moose's expression perked up as he felt Hans's arousal had flagged to his full, erect length. Squished into the mud, the little pig could do nothing but squirm and shiver as he had his fate described in excruciating detail. "Ah-ah-ah... You're only allowed to make your own gravy if it's fucked out of you, remember?" As the brutish dog began to grind against Hans's rump, the porker whined as he realized his night was about to become long and sleepless in a very different way than he hoped.

"The answer is no," the Clydesdale growled under his breath, his raised voice catching Hans's ear and perking him up from his afternoon snooze. It was a few weeks after the events of that dark night, and Hans was still getting comfortable with the nub-sized chastity cage riveted on at his groin. But something about the escalating conversation, held just out of earshot, caused Hans to climb up and out of his straw bed to go see what was happening. Poking his snout around the wooden fencing that kept him hemmed in, the hog's eyes widened as he saw his owner impatiently tapping a foot on the ground, Sammy at his side as the pair eyed up a familiar face. "I don't need any extra help, and I definitely don't need it from some filthy WILD wolf who doesn't look like he's done a day of farm work in his life."

"P- Please, I," Tiberius huffed, his eyes cast nervously past Farmer Kit's body. As his eyes fell upon Hans's confused face, Tibs had to force himself to suppress a smile. "I'm looking to- to turn my life around," he huffed, trying to hedge his bets on the Clydesdale having some heart. "I don't want people to see me as some flea-bitten mutt who steals chickens to get by. And- And the best way to do that would be to show I can work on a farm like yours."

"Mmmm," Farmer Kit grunted, his eyes flitting up and down the scrawny wolf's body. He couldn't be sure that Tibs wasn't lying. But perhaps he really did want to turn his life around? That lost weight might have also been because he hadn't been able to catch any prey. Perhaps he just wanted an easy way to sneak into the farm. "Alright," the Clydesdale relented at last, shaking his head softly. "Alright. You're hired. But you better not disappoint me. I don't want to see you anywhere near the hen house." Narrowing his eyes, the Clydesdale added, "And especially not around the pig pen. That porker's due for the county fair in a few weeks, and if he loses the blue ribbon because there's a wolf-jaw-sized hole in his hams, I'll know exactly who to blame." With his guard dog giving a gentle growl under his breath, Farmer Kit reluctantly reached out a paw to shake. As Tiberius glanced up, he caught eyes with his porcine lover once more, a smile crawling across the hog's face as he realized he outsmarted the farmer.

Two weeks would pass before Hans heard the gentle click of the lock upon his barn door. For his part, Tibs stayed far away from the prize pig, dutifully learning how to clean up messy horse stalls and to feed the various hefty cows living on the farm. Farmer Kit thought correctly that a wolf his size would have a hard time getting his mouth around the biggest of animals, not to mention they would probably give him a good kick if he ever tried. But the scruffy wolf's gentle demeanor and kind, if toothsome, grin actually worked in his favor. He became fast friends to many of the other animals. But as the county fair fast approached, he figured it would be a good idea to finally say hello to his love once again.

"Hey? Hans, sweetie?" Tiberius hushed through the open door, flashing his teeth as his lover rushed over as quickly as his portly body could carry him. "Ohhhh I missed you so much," he shushed, wrapping his arms around the hog's hefty frame to keep from being bowled over by his barnyard boyfriend. "Ooof! You're... You've grown!"

"Packed on another forty pounds since the month's start!" Planting a soft kiss on his lover's snout, Hans sighed as he melted into his boyfriend's firm embrace. "You... You're sure you're not part fox? Because you're so damn sly."

"I had to get closer to you, hun." Winking, the scraggly wolf teased his lupine pawtips over Hans's savory form, feeling up the curves of his body. "I couldn't let my honey ham get away from me."

"Well, considering how they talk about me going off to the county fair, it almost felt like I was going to be ripped away from you for good, Tibs," the hog grunted playfully, planting a sloppy smooch against the wolf's cheeks. But the phrasing seemed to catch Tiberius off guard.

"Going off to?" He repeated with a curious cock to his head. "I thought that whole thing was just a fun little competition to pick the best hog in the whole state?"

Hans blushed softly, fidgeting as he said, "W- Well... It's a little more than... You see..." Swallowing softly, the hog's flicky little ears perked behind him. "Farmer Kit's guard dog Moose kinda... kinda said that if I don't get the blue ribbon, well..." Hans shivered as he drew an invisible line across his neck, the wolf's eyes widening as he realized just what might happen to his lover. "I- It's why I've been packing on the pounds. Because I don't want to..."

"Be slaughtered by just anyone?" Tiberius said softly, eliciting an excited nod from his porker.

"You said I was the only meal for you!" Hans huffed, leaning up to plant a gentle kiss on his lover's snout. "I- I couldn't see myself ever being a meal for anyone else, Tibs..." Embracing tight, the barnyard lovers could no longer contain their wandering paws, their snouts cocked slightly to let their muzzles open, and tongues explored with growing abandon.

"I promise..." Tiberius hushed, pulling back from the kiss with an odd look of concern on his face, before allowing himself one last dip into the sweet pig's muzzle. Their kiss, and reunion, was only broken when the evening curfew announcement sounded. "I'll be back to see you soon, hun," Tibs whispered, planting one last kiss on Hans's forehead before stealing off down the rows of barn stalls on his way back to his cozy little den in the countryside. That is, until he practically bowled over the sloppy Newfoundland doing his rounds to make sure the chicken coop was settled for the night.

"Ooofh!" The heavy hound grunted, tumbling from his upright anthro walking position, catching himself on all fours as he mumbled a dopey, "Sorry about that, I- H- Hey!" Narrowing his eyes at the lanky canine, Moose growled a low rumble under his breath. "You- You're not supposed to be over by the hen houses." Peering around the wolf's body he snorted, "And why were you coming from that way? The only things over there are the pig pen a-"

"Woah, hey," Tibs interrupted, trying not to give the brawny mutt enough time to rub his two brain cells together. "It's not like that! Farmer Kit told me specifically to go over to the pig sty and take a few measurements. Said he was, ahhh, trying to fill out some papers for the fair and needed a few numbers he didn't have."

"Oh," the big brute snorted, his muzzle falling to a satisfied, and placid grin. "Hehe, yeah, probably talking to Butcher Tom about getting the hog ready."

Tiberius struggled to keep a straight face as he heard those words. "Oh? Uh, you mean putting the paperwork on file in case he... doesn't win a blue ribbon?"

"Pfft!" Shaking his head, the dribbly hound spattered a little drool about the wolf's ankles. "This farm's never won a blue ribbon. Besides, they tell all the pigs that they'll survive if they win." Eyes widening, Tibs swallowed as he listened to the dumb dog spill the truth about the county fair. "Hee hee, stupid pigs spend their last days getting happy and fat without complaining. And me and Sammy get a nice treat of tasty, tasty pork dog food for keeping the secret." Blinking, Moose only realized he was all alone well after he'd lapped up the drool dribbling down his jowls, the wolf having long rushed off in the dark of night, "...hey, where'd you go?" he whined, a little sad he had nobody to talk to about his lust for Hans's ham hocks in his dogbowl.

"Alright," the Clydesdale grunted from behind his desk, a worn, black plastic landline phone glued to his ear. "Thanks for doing the delivery so early in the morning, Jake. See you in an hour to pick up the hog for the fair." No sooner had he set the phone back down on the receiver did Farmer Kit's rustic office door swung open, a stern scowl plastered on Tiberius's face as he strode inside his boss's office. Without a word of pleasantries, the lanky, scruffy wolf lifted a pillowcase sack and planted it down onto the farmer's desk. Wide-eyed, the chestnut brown horse stared down at the curled edges of the bag, the inside overflowing with greenbacks bundled in neat little packages of $100 each.

"I'm buying the hog," Tibs growled in a low and even tone, pursing his muzzle as he waited for a response.

"Th- The hog? Wait, you mean 0808?"

"Hans," Tibs added, a paw reaching out to tug down one side of the bag in a show of good faith, to prove that it was not stuffed with newspapers. "That's $3200. Almost my entire pay since I started working for you."

"But he's..." Narrowing his eyes, Farmer Kit kept his gaze glued on Tiberius, even as he allowed his hooves to reach out and touch one of the bundles. "He's going to the county fair."

"I'm not going to let you butcher him." Tibs swallowed, sucking his teeth as he realized the words just flew out of his mouth. Taking a deep breath, the wolf stiffened his jaw before growling, "I made him a promise, and I intend to keep it."

Growling softly, the Clydesdale huffed as he stared down at the pile of cash, the tantalizing offer more than what he sold last year's pig for after slaughter and butchery fees. But something didn't seem right about what the wolf was insinuating. "What do you mean, promise?"

"He..." Swallowing softly, Tibs collected his thoughts. "He saved my life in the dead of winter. He took me in during a blizzard even though he knew I could kill him. He trusted me. He's... my friend." The Clydesdale cocked an eye at the big reveal, his jaw dropping slightly as the scruffy wolf rumbled, "More than my friend... I- I love him. And I owe him. Even if he wants his death, I certainly owe him more than a short chop."

Unsure exactly how to take the admission, Farmer Kit found himself at a loss for words. Lowering his muzzle, the Clydesdale whispered softly, "I've spent all year getting him prepared for the county fair... You know he's going to be heartbroken if he doesn't win the blue ribbon."

"That's not your problem anymore," Tibs scoffed under his breath, adding, "I'll make sure he gets exactly what he wants."

At long last, Farmer Kit raised his muzzle, the Clydesdale's shaky hooves reaching for his phone. "Alright... I'll take it. And I'm... I'm not going to fire you either. You've been a good worker, despite being a wolf. But," he admonished, his hoof tip punching a few numbers in the phone. "I don't want to see you trying to romance my livestock again." Cupping the phone to his ear, he rumbled, "Yeah Jake? I uh... Change of plans. I need you to deliver the hog to..." Lowering the receiver, Farmer Kit growled, "What's the fastest way to whatever cave you live in?"

Hans was fairly used to rough treatment. But as he bounced about in the back of some unfamiliar one-ton truck, locked in a cage that jostled up and down with each rut and rumble of the terrible roadway, he could not help but wonder if he really was headed for the county fair. Earlier in the day, his excitement left him over-eager. With nothing to occupy his time in the cage, the hog could only busy himself by teasing his hole and listening in to the conversations going on around him. Oddly enough, as he was being loaded into the truck, nobody seemed to be talking about the fair. Some confusing words about where to go, and some landmarks that were unfamiliar to the farm-locked porker. It all seemed so strange, shrouded in secrecy. That did not change at all once Hans felt the truck come to a stop.

The pink and pudgy porker had once asked Sammy what the fair was like. This was, of course, in between getting railed by the Swiss Mountain Dog as his reward for chasing off a fox. Happy music, large crowds, all the funnel cake he could eat. When the truck's engine cut out, Hans swallowed nervously at the eerie quiet that surrounded him. But the moment the rear door swung open, Hans's apprehensive eyes widened in surprise.

"Hey, Hun," a familiar voice and a warm, toothsome smile greeted the hog. Tiberius stood just outside the rear of the truck, the lanky wolf leaned up against a rickety signpost constructed from 2x4's and stolen nails. The words 'County Fair' were smeared across the front in bright and festive paint. Behind him appeared to be a little crevice in a rocky outcrop, ostensibly the wild forest home that Tibs lived in, a sign reading, 'Judge's Station' hung on the wall. Just off to the right, Hans could see a third sign, his caged tight cock leaping as he noticed the word, "BBQ" crossed out, replaced with 'Winner's Circle.'

"Tibs!" The porker gasped as a lanky rat stepped up into the truck, grumbling to himself as he unlocked the cage. "What... What is all this?"

"I uh... I did something stupid," the wolf admitted with a sheepish grin. "I couldn't let you go off to the fair, sweet meats."

"But... W- Wait, what do you mean?"

"I bought you." The shy little grin slipped from Tibs's face, replaced with a broad, toothsome smile. "All my money from working on the farm. Because I- I promised you that you were my special meal." As Hans was prodded forwards, crawling out of the cage, his gait picked up as he shyly galloped into Tiberius's arms, a broad grin plastered across his face as he nestled his snout up against his wolf's body. "Oooof! I- Another forty pounds?" He grunted, nearly knocked off balance by the heavy hog.

"Fifty," Hans giggled playfully, smooching his snoot against the canine's snout. "You really did all this for me?" He asked, eyes widening as he realized Tibs wasn't kidding. Off to one side sat a massive iron barbecue, the smoker puffing out billowing grey clouds like a wolf trying to knock his home down.

"I told you, you're the only animal I want to eat." Tibs grinned, reaching down to palm Hans's cock cage with a firm grip, having to squish his paw up against Hans's fat pad to get a better handle on the tight-fit metal chastity device. "But... That's only because you wanted it so much." His muzzle twisting softly, the canine blushed as he added, "If you don't want it of course..."

"N- No!" Hans blushed, shuddering as he felt his cage leap in Tibs's paw. "I- I've always known you were serious, sweetheart... This is... This is all just so sudden."

"We'll take it slow," he whispered, licking his chops as he casually gave a tug to Hans's cute little nose ring, beckoning him to follow him towards the craggy little cave he called his home as the transport truck drove off. "I promise by the end you'll be ready and eager." Leading his little pig by the snout, Tibs squeezed his prized catch through the rocky outcrop into the cozy one-bedroom cave he called home. Surprisingly, for a wild beast, Tiberius lived a life of relative comfort. A salvaged mattress, a few blankets (his supply bolstered after that cold winter night, several flickering oil lanterns hung on the walls, and most important, a big freezer chest was situated at the head of his bed, half-buried in the ground to act like a root cellar. Yet Hans's jaw dropped as he saw what sat atop the makeshift headboard. A gorgeous 1stPlace blue ribbon, painstakingly fashioned from salvaged parts, scraps of dyed cloth and a few brass fasteners, sat atop a little mount that overlooked the bed. "Go on, sweet meats," Tibs coaxed, giving his lover a sensual pat on the hams. "Up on the judge's table."

"Y- Yes Sir..." Hans swallowed nervously as he trotted on hands and knees as he was taught, climbing up onto the soft mattress until his snout faced the prize before him. Reaching out with both paws, Tibs coaxed his lover's hind legs apart, pushing down on his rump to get him into just the right position before coaxing his paws up the tender hog's size.

"God... Such a heavy hog," the wolf whispered, audibly licking his chops as he tugged down his work pants, casually starting to stroke his cock with long and deliberate movements. "I promise, your previous dalliances won't taint the judge's decision today," he growled, playfully winking as Hans nervously turned his gaze back over his shoulder. "Let's start with these beautiful hams of yours," he shushed softly, slowly working his free paw up and down the length of his lover's thighs. A firm squeeze sent shivers down Hans's spine, a soft moan escaping his jaws as he felt his lover's paws appraise his body. "Feel how thick that is?" Tibs asked playfully, giving the side of Hans's thigh a smack, his paw barely able to wrap around a third of the boy's hefty girth. "That's going to be much more than a mouthful for me, my sweet little piggy."

Hans shuddered as he felt Tiberius slide his paw up from his thighs to his rump, the wolf's thumb teasing juuuuust at the edge of his hole. Spitting down the boy's ass crack, Tibs used the clawed tip to rub the makeshift lube in, sending shivers down his lover's spine. "Ohhhh, f- fuck..." Hans huffed, immediately clamping his jaws shut as he remembered that he was not allowed to speak when being judged. All it elicited was a chuckle from his lover as the wolf's hefty cock ground up against the porker's tender taint.

"Those rules are out the window, handsome," he huffed, carefully lining up his cock with his little piggy's tight pucker. "I want you to moan and squeal for me," he grunted, only rocking his hips once in a polite knock before forcing entry into the little pig's hole.

"A- Ahhhh..." Hans huffed through gritted teeth, shuddering deeply as the canine's modest but girthy shaft bottomed out inside his porker's hole. "Ohhhh huff, you're..."

"Mmmm... good depth," Tibs growled, leaning his weight along Hans's back. Nuzzling up against his lover, the wolf grabbed a hunk of backfat in his jaws, biting down with just enough force to leverage against the plush porcine rump. "Fuuuuck, good tight squeeze," he grumbled through the mouthful of meat, letting his teeth slip off to reveal a perfect imprint of sharp canines dug into Hans's neck. The slow and rhythmic pounding picked up in speed as Tiberius raked his claws down the boy's meaty sides, bouncing the little nubs over each hefty rib bone. "Rrrrf, god your flesh, it's..." Snarling in Hans's ear, the wolf flicked the big pig's identification tag out of the way before chomping down firmly at the base, threatening to punch his own hole in the boy's floppy ear. "Perfect."

"Nnnngh... P- Please..." Hans gasped a short, sharp breath as his lover's raw pounding reached a fevered pitch. Draping one paw over his boy's shoulder for leverage, Tibs wrapped his opposite paw around the boy's hip, fishing about for that cock cage.

"Mmmm... and this little prize... I'm going to have so much fun tugging your cage free from your slow smoked corpse..." Snorting, Tibs gritted his teeth as he felt himself tense up, trying to hold back from erupting deep inside his lover then and there. "Pull it clean and watch that tender sausage shred like so much pulled pork..."

"Ahhhnnn..." Hans moaned; his eyes unfixed for a moment as he felt a rush of pleasure build in his loins. Squeezing tight on Tiberius's cock, the pudgy porker shuddered bodily as his lupine lover plowed into his prostate. Unable to stop the relentless assault, Hans let out a halting squeal. His jaw slackened, his body quivered, and despite the tight-fitting cage wrapped around his cock, a thin drool of watery semen spurted out the tip, right into Tibs's waiting paw. The flush of orgasm only continued to warm as the harried hog felt his judge thrust through his own climax, a hot spatter of manly seed filling his taught rump. Quivering, Hans had to fight to keep himself upright, his arms exhausted and legs like jelly as he held the pose he was taught to. But instead of collapsing upon his prized piggy, Tiberius seemed to be moving about, reaching with his free arms to grab for something.

In an instant, Hans felt his jaw wrenched open, two pudgy wolf fingers jammed in to force his teeth apart. They were quickly replaced by a bright red apple, the sweet fruit sinking firmly behind the porker's teeth. As the sweet and tangy juices rushed along his tongue, Hans felt a strange, gooey wetness dribble onto his head, trickling around his ears and down the small of his back. In his confusion, the hog snorted in a deep breath, realizing that the thickened mixture smelled of... cherries? Cherries and brown sugar. Slopping his softening cock out of Hans's hole with a gentle pop, Tibs growled as he reached his apple-soaked paw towards the craftwork blue ribbon, plucking it up as he whispered, "I think we have a winner."

"Mnnnpfh?!" Hans whined, peering back to see Tibs pouring sticky, gooey barbecue sauce out from an old saucepan, thick blobs that once were whole cherries plopping to a rest on his wide back.

"What's wrong, my prize pork? You were expecting your life would be spared just because you were best in show?" Licking his chops slowly, the wolf's hungry gaze suddenly fell as he whispered... "I- if you're... If you're sure, of course..." Despite his clear nervousness, Hans nodded with a fervor that Tiberius had never seen before, his eyes alight even as the afterglow faded. "That's my hog... It's time for your big show."

Tracking sticky barbecue sauce droplets out of Tiberius's cave, Hans whined as he was led on all fours towards the 'Winner's Circle,' the old iron behemoth still belching hot cherrywood smoke as he cautiously approached. But with his own persona judge behind him, Hans could only step forwards, one tentative hoof at a time. It took some effort to get the porker bound for the barbecue, his paws needing extra effort to secure behind his back due to the fatty, pudgy flesh that padded out his form. Not that Tibs seemed to mind; he made sure to remind Hans that a few hours in the smoker would render out all that juicy flavor into his meat. It would take even more effort for Tibs to get his piggy onto the heavy iron grate. Though the lanky wolf made up for his lack of meat over the past half year with plenty of muscular farm work, it did not prepare him for having to deadlift a 300 lb hog dripping in sloppy barbecue sauce. After only nearly dropping him once, Tibs managed to heft the hog up and onto the barbecue, the low and slow heat of the coals uncomfortable but not enough to cause Hans to squeal out in panic... just yet.

"Mmm-Mmm-Mmm..." Tibs huffed, trying to regain his dominant edge as he slipped a basting brush into the saucepan, giving the mixture a swirl before painting the gooey red sauce up and down the remaining exposed spots on Hans's belly and thighs. "You know," he added with a chuckle, watching as his porker started to squirm on the seething hot metal grate, the hog's eyes widening in growing pain as he tried to find a comfortable spot. "I could get used to this whole vegetarian life. These cherries I picked special from the orchard down the way? They're going to be so perfect complimenting your gorgeous flesh." Teasing the basting brush against Hans's browning rump, the growling canine huffed as he sniffed the air, licking his chops as some of the sticky juices began to sizzle and hiss against the flesh that touched the grill grate. "God, it's gonna make your beautiful ribs so much more succulent," he added with a toothsome grin, giving a little dab of barbecue sauce to Hans's nipples, before painting a gentle circle around the boy's snout and mouth.

"Mnnnngpppgh!" Hans whined, clenching his eyes tight as he shook his head, the heat becoming too much to bear, despite his arousal throbbing in his cock cage.

"Can you smell it? I'd ask if you can taste it, but... well..." Smirking, Tibs reached up with one paw to close the barbecue, before stopping in his tracks. "Oh! Did I nearly forget the most important part? Licking his chops, the wolf set the pot of barbecue sauce down next to Hans's head, bringing the brush with him down to the boy's tightly locked chastity cage. Allowing a thin dribble to drool off the tip of his brush, Tibs smiled a wicked grin as he watched the drip splat on the tip of Hans's nub cage, thin bubbles erupting around the edges. "Awww, is that cage a little too hot? Shame... We both know blue ribbon hogs aren't allowed to cum." Giving a quick paint around the metal cage, Tibs sighed as he turned back up towards Hans's pain-wracked gaze. "My dear. Thank you for this... for everything." Leaning dangerously close, close enough to singe his scraggly fur, Tiberius planted a tender kiss on his lover's snout. "I made you a promise. And I promise to always remember you."

Licking his muzzle clean of the barbecue sauce, Tibs slowly closed to smoker lid, a hot plume of smoke roiling about Hans the moment it clamped shut over the barbecue pork. As the latching lock threw shut, all Hans could hear in the darkness of his smoker was the crackle of burning wood, and the gentle bubble of barbecue sauce as it came back up to temperature. He would never get to see that Tibs had affixed his blue ribbon to the handle of the old iron smoker. The little prize swayed softly in the wind, a testament to Hans's proudest moment, in life and in death.

© 2022 Choice Cuts Deli Freelance Author

All Rights Reserved