Figurines (Commission)

“You...bought that thing?” Stephen asked, “Why...would you...it’s disgusting.”

“What do you mean? It’s cute,” Paul said, setting the figurine on his bookshelf.

Cute is not a word that Stephen would use to describe the little statue that Paul had brought home with him and started showing off. The thing was hideous, actually. Some strange looking beast, half man, half pig, in repose. It was enormously fat, its face twisted and misshapen into some strange expression of delight and ecstasy. Then, there was the thing’s cock, also inhuman, which looked to be in the midst of an orgasm, stony semen erupting in a stream and splashing back on the figure’s hairy belly. “Where the fuck did you even find something like that?”

“Some little shop downtown,” Paul said, “He had lots of different ones, but something about this one just spoke to me, you know?”

The two of them had been dating for a little less than a year, and had moved in together just a few months before. Things had been going well between them, but this, well, this just seemed like too much. “I don’t want it in the bedroom.”

“What? Why?”

“It’s gross!”

“It’s not gross, it’s just erotic art! There’s nothing wrong with it.”

“Well I don’t want it in the bedroom. Put it in your office or something, I don’t want to see it.”

Paul glowered at Stephen, picked the figurine back up and carried it off to his office. Paul was lucky enough to work from home, while Stephen had to go into downtown, which meant the spare bedroom of their apartment had been converted into Paul’s office space. “Fine. I think it’ll grow on you in any case. You’ll see.”

“Doubt it,” Stephen said under his breath.

Paul emerged a moment later, and let off an uncharacteristic belch. “How about pizza tonight? I don’t feel like cooking.”

“But we already bought groceries and planned out the menu for the week.”

“Come on, I’ll buy it, it’s fine. I’m just really hungry tonight.”

Paul got on the computer and got the order ready, while Stephen was left in the hallway, his head reeling a bit. Usually the two of them saw eye to eye on pretty much everything, but this little thing seemed so out of character for Paul. It was enough for him to feel a surge of doubt about their relationship he hadn’t anticipated. The pizzas arrived half an hour later--much more than the two of them would usually order--and Paul devoured most of it, while Stephen just wondered what had gotten into his boyfriend.

It felt like he did a lot of wondering and doubting over the next couple of months. At first, it was just small things. The fast food delivery bags that seemed to be piling up around Paul’s office. Stephen would nag him to take out the garbage from the room, and Paul would blow him off. Paul had never been one for physical fitness, in the first place, but all the snacking began to impact his figure, leaving him with a paunch, and then a gut, which Stephen did not find particularly attractive. Then, things got larger. Stephen noticed one day as Paul was wandering around without a shirt on that he had a tattoo on his bicep, one that Stephen knew hadn’t been there the day before. When he asked Paul when and where he’d gotten it, Paul just stared at him like he was an idiot.

“I’ve always had this tattoo,” he said, looking at the smiling pig face dominating the side of his arm, “You know how much I like pigs. They’re my favorite animal.”

“You didn’t have that tattoo yesterday Paul,” Stephen said, but even as he said it, the tattoo didn’t exactly look new, either.

“I did too, why are you doing this?” Paul asked him.

“Tell me where you got it then, and when.”

“I...it was...” Paul said, but as much as he wracked his mind, he couldn’t seem to bring forth an answer. “A while ago, alright? Before we met! Why do you care so much about it?”

Stephen tried a few more times to talk some sense into him, but Paul eventually slammed the office door shut and refused to talk about it any further.

The next day, there were even more tattoos, now on both arms, and Stephen felt like he was going mad. It couldn’t be possible. He tried to ask about them, but Paul refused to engage about it any further.

“If you hate my tattoos so much, then why even date me?” Paul eventually said, clearly hurt, as he shut himself in his office again.

Stephen tried to come up with reasons for why he was in this relationship, but more and more, it seemed like Paul was not the sort of person he’d thought he was. He wondered if he’d just been blind, or stupid. It didn’t seem likely he would have missed all these red flags over the last few months before they moved in together. Paul’s hygiene was slipping more and more. Stephen couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen or heard him take a shower while he was there, and from the musky smell coming off him, it seemed that he wasn’t really cleaning himself at all. Maybe it was just a case of depression, it seemed like that would tick all the boxes, but Paul didn’t seem unhappy. If anything, he seemed pleased with himself, and was only pissed off or sad when Stephen was gripping at him about one thing or another.

Then came the drinking and the smoking. Stephen couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Paul sober, he seemed to have a beer in his hand from morning to night. How he kept his job, Stephen didn’t know. The cigars started soon after that, and the first time he came home and smelled smoke in their apartment, he blew up. After all, that would be reason enough to get them evicted, if the landlord smelled it. Paul just didn’t seem to care at all. He didn’t even try to argue--instead, the drunk, fat, hairy fellow tried to pull down Stephen’s pants, and said, “Fuck, it’s kind of hot when you get all angry like this. Wanna fuck me?”

They hadn’t fucked in months, not since Paul had brought home that figurine in the first place. Stephen rebuffed him, but Paul just kept pushing and insisting. Stephen had to forcefully shove him away, and Paul let off a disappointed snort. “Fine, if you won’t fuck me, at least I got my fuckin’ toys,” he said, and went into his office. Through the door, Stephen could hear Paul snorting and grunting, and the sounds of his office chair squeaking too. He was at his wits end--this relationship wasn’t going to work, there was just no way, and yet, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. That Paul needed his help. He wouldn’t just abandon him, not without one last attempt to get him to see reason.

But the next morning when he got up, ready to deliver his ultimatum to Paul, he was nowhere to be found in the apartment. Stephen couldn’t even recall the last time he’d left the apartment at all. He used the moment to go into Paul’s office, and was horrified by the state of the room. It was filthy, with used dildos everywhere, most still slick with lube. Used cum rags and trash lying everywhere on the floor. And there, on the desk, was that disgusting figurine.

He should smash it. Somehow, Stephen knew that was the thing causing all of this. It seemed to be even more disgusting than he remembered it being. He picked it up, feeling his skin crawl. It was made of something not quite stone, not quite plastic. It was too warm to the touch. He was about to leave with it, when the door opened, and he saw Paul standing in the doorway, holding a box in his hands. He’d gotten...stranger, lately. He was growing tusks, his face pushing out into an almost piggish snout. He was so ugly, so fucking disgusting, and he glared at Stephen, holding the figurine in his hand. “I knew it! I knew you were jealous that I had one, and you didn’t,” Paul said, “Put it back, that one’s mine.”

“Paul, this thing, can’t you see what it’s doing to you?” Stephen pleaded.

“I knew you wanted one too, alright? So I got you something,” Paul said, and handed Stephen the box, and grabbed his figurine out of Stephen’s hand, holding it close to his flabby chest.

Stephen didn’t want to open the box, but there was something inside, something calling to him. He opened it up, pulled away the tissue paper, and saw another figurine nestled inside. “No...I...I don’t...”

It was just as lewd as Paul’s, though in a different fashion. A hypermuscular man with a horse’s head, flexing his muscles, a massive, inhuman cock jutting out and drooling cum onto the pedestal the horseman was standing on.

“You love it, don’t you?” Paul said, “The owner said this one would be perfect for you, just like this one is perfect for me.”

“I...I love it...” Stephen said. It was just as appalling as the pig figurine in its own fashion, but this time, Stephen found himself lost in it. In the curves of the horse’s biceps, his massive cock that he could almost feel throbbing through the air. He was so proud. He was so fucking hot, everyone should look at him, everyone wanted to see him...

He was so lost in staring at the figure, that he hadn’t noticed Paul pulling down his pants, getting down in front of him, and sucking him off, right there in the hallway of their apartment. Stephen looked down at his ugly, piggish boyfriend, and while he was still grossed out by his hairy, fat body, he was suddenly so horny, that getting off was much, much more important than whatever standards he’d had before.

Paul stood up, once Stephen was good and fluffed, and gave him a kiss. “I think we should find a place where these two can sit together, don’t you? Don’t they belong together?”

Stephen moaned a little, but followed Paul into their bedroom, and there, on top of the dresser, Paul placed his figurine, and Stephen set his own figurine down next to it. Like magic, the pedestals sealed themselves together, until it wasn’t even clear that the two of them had ever been separate statues at all. Stephen couldn’t hold back anymore. He shoved Paul over the edge of the bed, lubed his cock up with a bit of spit, and shoved it into his boyfriend’s hole, listening to his grunt and squeal as Stephen plowed him rough and hard. He shot two loads without even going soft, and eventually, it was Paul who had to call it quits--his hole was just too tired to go on. Stephen, though, felt like his body was thrumming with energy. “I think I’m gonna go to the gym,” he said, throwing on some clothes.

“Alright fucker,” Paul said, “I’ll be here, waiting. Bring home some pizzas, would ya? You can fuck me while I eat, how’s that sound?”

Stephen blushed. He didn’t like how horny that made him. Everything seemed to make him horny though, it was like everything in his mind was slowly being pushed out by a need to fuck. He nodded, and Paul groped him through his gym shorts. His cock seemed bigger, but that had to be his imagination. Everything was fine. As long as he had his figurine, everything would be exactly as it needed to be.

***

“Here? But what if someone sees?”

The young man who’d been staring at him as Stephen had been leaving the worksite was now on his knees in an alley nearby. He was shirtless, which wasn’t odd for him. In the summer, he always worked shirtless, his furry, muscular chest damp with sweat, the smell of musky hay wafting around him.  Stephen’s huge horse cock was still hanging out the leg of his denim cutoffs, just like it always was, his brown horse tail swishing behind him out a hole in the back.  Sure, it was obscene, but he was just an animal, he couldn’t help himself. Besides, Stephen had grown to like how people stared at him--at his muscles, at his muzzle and thick brown mane, at his inhuman cock. Some were horrified, but more wanted him, like this young man, who was busy drooling, just like the head of Stephen’s cock.

Stephen blew a little huff of annoyance out of his long snout. “You want this horse cock or not?” He didn’t care if anyone saw, after all. If anything, it would be a whole lot fucking hotter if someone did see. He dropped his shorts down, letting his furry, muscular thighs breathe a bit, wrapped one hand around the back of the man’s head and pulled him into his muscular, hairy crotch. The man didn’t need much more encouragement than that, and licked and sucked at Stephen’s cock until he came with a loud neigh. Face covered with horse spunk, and now ashamed of himself, the young man wiped up what he could and took off down the alley, while Stephen got his shorts back up. He’d needed that after a long day at work--and now, off to the gym.

He ran there, of course, his tail whisking along behind him. Stephen ran everywhere, his cloven feet knocking on the sidewalk below. He was too big to fit most cars these days, standing at almost seven feet tall, but running was just natural. The way things should be. He got to the gym after about fifteen minutes, went inside, not bothering to change, and got started on his workout. Everyone was staring at him here too, of course, even though they all knew he worked out here, seven days a week. They couldn’t help themselves after all. Seven feet of muscular stallion, hell, even Stephen could get lost, staring at himself flexing in the mirror at the gym.

His workout took an hour and a half, and by the time he was done, a few guys had been lingering for a while, clearly anticipating what came next. Stephen made his way into the locker room, and there in the showers, two men nearly tackled him, licking out his pits while he whinnied, and moaned, other guys gathering just to spectate. He pushed both guys down onto their knees and they licked and sucked at his meat together. Stephen looked over and saw a couple of guys filming the public display with their phones, and that was enough to send him over the edge. Both guys drank their fill of his load, but when one scurried off, the other held back. “Do...you need to piss, Sir?” he asked.

“Stephen gave a chuckle, and hosed the man down with his full bladder, the stream hitting hard and splattering all over the tile. He heard a couple of guys lose it then, shooting their own load in the crowd, and he flexed for the cameras at the same time, pleased with his performance.

It was early evening when he finally made it back home, and he made his way into the apartment he shared with Paul, his piggish, slobby boyfriend. He found Paul in the living room, sloppily eating takeout chinese right out of the box with his snout, while he plugged his other hole with one of his big dildos, right there on the couch. Stephen, even for all of his exhibitionist desire, was even a bit put off by the shamelessness of the display. Paul wasn’t really the sort of guy he went for, usually. Hell, the pig was over five hundred pounds now, and stank like he hadn’t had a shower in years at this point. But the more he’d lived with him, the more he’d found himself turned on by the pig’s absolute hedonism--and more importantly, Paul had one of the few holes that could take Stephen’s cock to the root.

“Fuck, there’s dessert,” Paul grunted, tossing the box away from him. He got up, waddled over to where Stephen was standing, and shoved his greasy snout into Stephen’s pit, snorting up his stallion’s musky, barnyard scent. “How’s my horny, himbo horse today?”

“Long day at work. The usual,” Stephen said, trying to focus on words, despite how horny he was.

“Our new video is real fuckin’ popular.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, you know guys go crazy for your big horse cock.”

“Fuck...”

“All these messages about how they want to worship you, you’re a fuckin’ star. Wanna watch it again?”

“Fuck, get in the fuckroom.”

Paul didn’t need to be told twice. Paul’s office wasn’t an office anymore--his only job now was as a gainer camwhore on the fansites. He’d spend the day stuffing his face for fans, while riding big toys, and occasionally having guys come over to fist him, but the truth was, only one thing could fill him up properly, and that was Stephen’s horse cock. He turned on the video they’d shot the day before, of Stephen piledriving Paul’s hole while he was face first in a massive chocolate cake, but Stephen only really had eyes for himself. He was so fucking sexy, so big, so muscular, his cock was fucking perfect too. He tore his eyes away long enough to line his cock up with Paul’s hole, the pig’s curly tail wiggling with excitement above his fat ass. Pretty much every inch of the pig’s hide was covered with tattoos, most of them disgustingly obscene. All manner of cartoon pigs partaking in whatever hedonistic delight Paul had been thinking about when he’d wanted one, cocks of all sizes and species worming their way around in tribal designs. He drove in deep, feeling his horse cock slide into Paul’s hole easily, and then turned his attention back to the TV, so he could watch himself fuck, while fucking. Iit was so hot being inside someone, someone who could take him no matter how rough he wanted to be. He drew it out as best he could, but came quick all the same. Still, they’d fuck at least five more times tonight--or at least, that’s how their evenings usually went.

“Sure I can’t unblur that handsome face of yours?” Paul asked as he rolled over on the bed, Stephen’s load leaking onto the dirty sheets below. “They all want to know who the mysterious stallion is.”

Stephen was torn. Fuck, he wanted to be exposed so badly, but at the same time, he didn’t want the world to know that he was a fucking slave to this disgusting pig’s loose hole. “Not...not yet.”

“Still embarrassed, huh? Still don’t want the world to know that this hot himbo horse can’t control himself around fat, nasty pigs, huh?” Paul said He grabbed hold of Stephen’s cock and pulled him onto the bed, lying him down on his back and climbing on top of him. He pressed his full weight down on his boyfriend, feeling the muscular stallion squirm under him, his cock already rock hard and drooling all over again. “Don’t want them to know what a top service slut I’ve turned you into?”

Paul rode his stallion again, cowboy style, right then and there on the bed, taking his time. Paul moaned and neighed, feeling his massive pig boyfriend’s full weight on his hips and stomach, making it a little hard to breathe, but his cock was rock hard. Paul dug around underneath his apron and started stroking his own cock. It was sizable, but next to Stephen, every cock looked small. Still, eight inches of greasy, corkscrewing, tattooed pigdick was nothing to laugh at. “Yeah, look at you, nothing but a stupid horse attached to a massive cock. You do all your thinking with this dick of yours. You’ll do anything for my piggy hole. After all, we both know oral doesn’t really do it for you. All those guys slobbering over your dick is hot, but it’s nothing compared to this.”

“Fuck...fuck!” Stephen said, trying to hump faster, but Paul refused, edging his cock with his piggy hole.

“Think about it. We can post that pretty face of yours all over the internet. Show them all what really gets you off. Everyone will know what a horny freak you are for porkbutt. I know you like sowing your wild oats all over town, but that stallion seed might be too hot a commodity. Might have to lock you up, just to make sure you’re under control. Then, I can start renting you out. Make you a proper horsey whore. Nothing but my stud stallion!”

Paul started squealing, and shot his load all over Stephen’s muscular chest. He quickened his bouncing, and soon, Stephen came as well, flooding Paul’s guts for the second time in less than an hour.

Paul scooped up his pigcum and fed it to Stephen off his hands. “Gotta make sure you get enough protein. Don’t want you losing that hot figure of yours, after all.” Paul climbed off the bed, sweating and heaving for breath. “All that fuckin’ made me hungry again, damn.” He let off a belch, and as he waddled his way off the bed, he let off a long fart, his hole spraying out horse cum as he did all over the side of the bed and the floor.

“You...you wouldn’t really do any of that, would you, Paul?” Stephen asked, still lying on the bed. “Like...make me your whore and stuff?”

“Why? You want me to?” Paul said, gave him a wink, and left the fuckroom, his curly tail still wagging away with delight.

Stephen wanted to say no, but fuck, he hadn’t been that hard in a long while. He sat up and looked at the statue on the dresser, with the stallion fucking the pig, their prized possession. He sighed, and relaxed a bit. It wasn’t worth worrying about, not really. As long as they were together, and as long as they had their figurines, everything would be perfect. Everything would be exactly as it was supposed to be.