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1. A subspecies of Homo Sapiens, a cockpig is a subhuman variant, socially ranked below beta males, females, and animals. Cockpigs are born to serve and obey superior males, worship cocks, and suffer. Naturally submissive and inferior, their normal habitat is at the feet of an alpha male.
The cockpig came to me a virgin. Never been fucked. Never sucked cock.
I know that’s hard to imagine, looking at it now. It’s hard to even imagine it as a person, walking around free, making its own decisions and interacting with others as an equal, but that’s what it was like when we met. It’s been a long, slow process to get it to what you see now, this thing that grovels at my feet, waiting for whatever I choose to do with it.
When we met, the cockpig was a timid, needy young fag. It had a name, but I don’t really recall what it was. Evan, Eric, Ethan…something like that. He hit me up on Recon after reading my profile. Told me how much he wanted to serve me, how much he needed to grovel, all that stuff. The usual online BS from needy faggots. Most are flakes, just looking to get all hot and bothered and beat their useless little dicklets. I figured this was more of the same, but he didn’t go away. Kept sending me these messages, begging for the chance to serve. So, I gave him my phone number and we started texting. Had the little fag send me some videos of him with his naked ass in the air – showing me his hole, fucking himself with his fingers, then sucking them clean while looking dead at the camera. When he didn’t hesitate at sticking his own ass-covered fingers in his mouth, I knew he had potential. He had the look I like as well: 20 years old, about 5’6, with a slight build and a nice tight little bubble butt. High cheek bones and full lips, he has one of those innocent faces that looks so great with fear written across it, and even better with desperate need. And red hair. I do love a ginger. He had that pale skin with a sprinkling of freckles like most gingers, the kind that takes color from a beating so easily.
The kid didn’t have much going for him, other than his looks. His family was poor and didn’t put much stock education, so he barely finished high school and never gave college a thought. His best job prospect, working at the local factory like his dad, disappeared when the economy tanked and the factory closed. He managed to find one menial job after another. No future in it, but he made just enough to pay for a shitty apartment he shared with a friend from high school and a beat-up old car.
He was scared. Most virgins are, especially those who remain virgins as late as he had, always pretending they are “too busy” for sex or some other bullshit excuse, when in reality they are too scared of their own desires to have sex with anyone but themselves, until finally the need becomes so strong, they bust out of their shell, sometimes in a dramatic fashion.
I kept talking to him, making him beg, giving him duties to perform each day. Each day I became more demanding, his duties more degrading. Edge yourself on cam while telling me what you want me to do to you. Buy a dildo, fuck yourself with it, and send me the video. Go lick your toilet clean and send me a pic of you doing it. Piss in a glass and drink it live on cam. He begged me over and over again to promise I wouldn’t show the pics or videos to anyone. Sure, he balked at some of it. That didn’t surprise me. But all I had to do was ignore him for a few days, and his need to serve a real man overcame his fear and disgust. Sure enough, he’d come back and grovel on cam, begging for another chance. Once I overcame some of his initial reluctance, I decided he was trainable. I had an old chastity cage and padlock I sent him in the mail, then ordered him to put it on for me live on Skype. He was reluctant, of course, since I didn’t send him the key, but finally obeyed. The moment he heard that padlock click into place, and knew that shit just got real, was a big step for him.
After I had the pussyboy locked, I started retraining his mind. Making him refer to himself as “it” instead pendik escort bayan of “I”. Explained to him that the little locked up nub between his legs wasn’t a cock and should never be referred to as such. No, real men have cocks. Cocks are for fucking, I explained. Since he wasn’t a man, and was never going to fuck anything, that nub wasn’t anything but a drain. Once he started calling it that, I could see in his eyes that the mental transformation was starting to happen. Every time he had to sit to take a piss because of the cage, he was thinking of me, thinking about what I was making him into.
I kept him locked up without any release for almost a month. For a faggot used to jerking off two times a day, it was a powerful lesson: his pleasure didn’t matter. Only mine did, and his increasing need was what pleased me. I could see the desperation in his eyes each evening when we Skyped; I could hear the need in his voice. His feeble little faggot mind was wrestling between his need to cum and his need to please and obey.
Then came his first real test: I gave him orders to come spend a long weekend with me. He lived about two hours away, so it was a good chance for me to test whether his pathetic need was enough to overcome his fear. I gave him directions meet at a shopping center near my house, and sent him a nice big butt plug, with instructions to wear it for the trip down. Nothing like a long drive with a stuffed, stretched hole and full balls to put a faggot in exactly the right mindset.
The little pig was prompt, I’ll give him that. He texted me when he arrived. I was deliberately half an hour late, giving him time to sweat and wrestle with his decision to meet me. I wanted to see if he would stay or run back home before I arrived. He stayed.
I’d ordered him to park in the edge of the lot, near the main road. When I pulled up, I told him to get out of his car and stand by my window so I could inspect him. Before he left home, I gave him specific instructions on what to wear: a small green tank top that barely covered his belly, some red spandex shorts, and flip flops. Nothing else. Nothing to cover up his body. Nothing to make him look decent if he had to stop somewhere and use the bathroom. Standing there in the parking lot next to my window, dressed like a slut and clutching his cell phone, wallet, and keys, he looked exactly like a little fuckboy, all right. Those spandex shorts were designed as underwear and hugged every inch of his virgin ass. They clearly showed off the outlines of the cage locked on his little drain, including the padlock which secured it. Anyone that saw him standing there in the lot would easily be able to see his dicklet was under lock and key. He turned bright red from his head to his toes, standing there in public on display. I could see his ass cheeks clinch from the stress, squeezing the plug and adding to his discomfort. He was so nervous he couldn’t make eye contact, which was fine by me. I let him stand there for a bit while I looked him over from the driver’s seat of my car, instructing him to turn this way and that, then bend over, so I could see the bottom of the plug profile against the spandex. Made him take off the tank top and leave it in his car. He turned even redder, being so exposed right next to a busy road. I could see some of the passersby staring at him — and, more importantly, he could see them staring, too. But the little bitch didn’t run. He stood there like an obedient cunt and did what I told him to do. The need to obey was already that strong. Just the way I wanted it.
I finally ordered him to get in my car. Once inside, I told him to lose the shorts and flip flops.
“Here? In public?” he asked, the fear is his eyes growing. I was afraid the little bitch would piss himself right there on my seat.
“Yes, pussyboy. Here. Now. Get ’em off. Hurry the fuck up and don’t make me tell you again, faggot.”
He kicked off his flip flops, then peeled off the spandex shorts, sitting there bare as the day he was born…except for my padlocked cage on his drain.
“Give me your car keys, maltepe escort wallet, and cell phone, fag.” He handed them over obediently. I’d forbidden him to bring anything else, even a toothbrush. He certainly wouldn’t be needing anything, and I wanted him completely stripped of any belongings, of any connections, of anything except what I gave him.
Reshaping a faggot’s mind — it’s a slow, relentless process.
I handed him a black spandex hood and ordered him to put it on. It covered his entire head except his mouth, cutting off his sight but still allowing him to hear and breathe. I loved the way it hugged the contours of his face. Once he could no longer see, his anxiety was on a rollercoaster; lack of sight made him relax, but then his mind started visualizing what was about to happen, and his fear would spike. I looked down as I was driving back to my house, and his little nub was as hard as the cage would let it get, painfully straining against that hard plastic and completely filling the cage.
I took the long way back to my house. Got on the freeway for one exit, just to confuse him about where I lived, and impress on his mind that he had no idea where he was, or how to get back to the safety of his car.
Once inside my garage, I removed his hood and ordered him out of the car and on to his knees. I padlocked a leather collar around his neck, attached a leash, and led him, crawling like an animal, into my house.
I moved the coffee table out of the way and put the faggot in the middle of the living room on his knees, with his pretty little pale ass in the air and his face on the ground. Just like he was worshipping me. Which he would be, in due time. I could hear his breathing increase. He was nervous, but needy. I walked around him looking at him from all angles, then ordered him to his feet.
“Clasp your hands behind your head faggot. Spread your legs. Wider. Head up, eyes down. This is the ‘inspection’ position. Nothing hidden from anyone that wants to see it.”
He quickly complied, and I saw him turning beet red again from embarrassment. He’d never had a man examine him like this. And examining him I was, running my hands all over his body, pinching his big nipples to see just how sensitive they were. From his facial expression, they were connected directly to his useless drain. Good. I had plans for them.
“Did it clean out its hole before it left home like it was told, fuckboy?” I asked him.
“Yes Sir! It did its best, Sir!” he responded.
“Well, better hope it did a good job, fag, or it will regret it very quickly. Back down on the ground and put that ass in the air again.”
He returned to his previous position, and I reached between his firm ass cheeks and grabbed the base of the plug. I slowly started turning it inside his ass, listening to him groan. Then, in one quick movement, I pulled the plug out of his hole. It came out of his virgin hole with an audible ‘pop’, like I was pulling a cork from a bottle. He squealed and gasped, just like I wanted him to, overwhelmed with both the pain and the sudden emptiness inside him.
I walked around to his head and grabbed him by the hair, lifting his head up.
“Open your mouth, fuckboy,” I commanded.
He obeyed like a good bitch, opening his mouth for whatever I decided to put in it. I brought up the butt plug I was still holding, fresh from his ass, and stuck it between his lips. He immediately tried to pull back and spit it out, but I increased my grip on his hair and shoved harder, until he had no choice but to stretch his mouth as wide as possible to get the butt plug between his teeth.
“Be glad that’s a small plug, faggot. I hope your ass was clean. Whether it was or not, that plug better be shiny and clean as a whistle when it comes of your mouth, “I told him.
His cheeks were bulging as the plug stretched out his jaw, and despite the look of disgust on his face, I could see his tongue moving around inside his mouth, cleaning the lube and his ass off the plug.
While the faggot was cleaning off my plug, I took the opportunity kartal escort to test out his tits. Big, perky tits, nice and dark, set on a set of small but firm pecs. The tits were dark enough to really stand out against his pale, lightly freckled skin. They were already standing at attention, and just a little tweaking and pinching turned them bright red, almost matching the fag’s hair. Each pinch elicited an interesting squeal from the pig and made his chastity cage bounce as his little drain throbbed. Interesting…I’d find plenty of uses for those tits later, I thought.
“Back on your knees, cunt.” He dropped to his knees, putting his head right at my crotch. Time to introduce this bitch to what faggots were really for.
I grabbed the end of the plug and eased it out of his mouth, then pressed his head against the front of my jeans. I let him get a good whiff of my cock through my pants and feel the outline of my erection. Up to this point, I hadn’t allowed him to see my cock, not even a picture. “Dream about it, fag,” I’d told him. He knew it was big, and he knew it was going inside him, but that was all. Now, it was time for him to become better acquainted with what would soon be the center of his pathetic little world.
My cock is big. Like, real big. I’ve got big hands, and I can wrap both of them around the shaft of my cock and the head is still visible. It’s not just the length that hurts the bitches I fuck, it’s also the girth. Big and thick, it never fails to make a fag squeal like a pig when I ram it home. Usually, they feel it for a few days afterwards, too. At least, that’s what the experienced fuckboys that have taken it have told me. For a virgin like my soon-to-be cockpig, it was going to open him up in ways he couldn’t even imagine.
I pulled my cock and balls out of the fly of my jeans and smacked him in the face with my dick. Let him not only get a good look at the size but also feel the weight of it against his face. Then I started rubbing it on his pretty, terrified face.
“This is going inside you, bitch, “I told him. “Every inch of it. In both your holes. Today. It’s time you learned what it means to be a real man’s cumdump. Now, be a good cocksucker and open wide. No, wider than that, little pig. That’s barely wide enough to get the head in. All the way open…yeah, really stretch that jaw. Good. Now stick out your tongue, you’re about to taste cock for the first time.”
He had his mouth open as wide as he could, his tongue reaching out as far as it would go, trying to touch the cock held just out of reach. Then, I laid it on his tongue, and started my slow invasion of his mouth. Relentlessly, I pushed forward, forcing him to breath around my dick, my hand gripping the hair on top of his head to keep him from pulling away.
He was a natural cocksucker. Started using his tongue right away, without even being told. Suddenly, I pulled my cock out of his mouth and slapped the hell out of him, knocking him over.
“Watch those teeth, fag. I feel any teeth again, I’m going to knock them out of your worthless head, got it? Now get this cock down your throat and do it right this time.”
I’ll give the bitch this: he didn’t have to be hit more than once. He quickly got back on his knees and shoved his head down on my dick almost to my balls. I could see a large red imprint of my hand on the side of his face, and tears rolling down his cheeks, but he didn’t stop trying to choke himself on my meat. I didn’t even have to hold his head. He impaled his throat on the length of my shaft, swallowing and regurgitating every inch of it over and over. He gagged once or twice, but never pulled off, quickly learning to breathe through his nose while his throat was filled, sucking on it like his life depended on getting my cum.
Watch this brand-new cocksucker crying while force feeding himself his first dick was too much. I grabbed him by his hair and painted his tonsils with my load, holding his head in place until I was sure he’d swallowed every drop. Slowly, I withdrew from his mouth. I noticed a single drop of cum on the end of my dick, but instead of making him lick it off, I rubbed it off on his upper lip and left it to dry there, to make sure he smelled my cum for the rest of the night every time he took a breath.
“Not too bad for your first time, cocksucker. Don’t worry…we’re just getting started.”
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