Piggy Purgatory (Gay, Vore)

The fat pink fist slammed into the side of the labrador's head like a sack of hammers. His golden body collapsed to the floor, again, after the haymaker from the pig man across the room. The labrador felt regret for his "urban exploration" habit for the first time when he came across the pig and his little decrepit house. Shaking and attempting to get to his feet; the golden young male canine furry was trying to his best to escape the 350+ pound slab of breathing bacon just across the room; but even with those thunderously heavy steps he wasn't fast enough. The pig was far too strong for him- his large flared nostrils huffing and puffing at the effort of lifting the young canine yet again, and slamming him into the dusty banister, which shattered and fell to the floor along with the canine fur.

"Eaugh--- Stop!" The canine halfheartedly raised a hand to defend himself, too weak to mount a real offense against this massive aggressor, and the pig simply took advantage of the moment to grab the dog's hand and pull him to his feet again, only for a strong gut punch to ripple through the dog's body. He felt as though the pig might have broken a rib, but his spine hurt too. It might as well have been his spine.

The massive pig man grabbed the nape of the doggy's neck, pulling it back and forcing the canine to look up at him in the face. The bloody nosed dog could barely stand, the pig's beating more then enough to make sure the canine would never try to break into a seemingly abandoned house again. He didn't know he wasn't going to be given that chance. Using both of the pig fur's massive hands, he grabbed both sides of the canine's body, sticking his arms to his sides, and lifting the poor dog in the air. The canine was unsure what was going to come next. A neck snapping pile driver perhaps? Getting tossed through a window of sharp glass? The dog could only muse on what horrible fate awaited him as he kicked his legs back and forth, struggling like a girl to get free of this ogre's grasp.

But then, the canine heard a sickening popping noise. The pig's jaw distended downwards. The canine's eyes opened wide. Oh shit.

"No- Stop! Please, let me go!" The canine slurred out as best he could, a bit of blood from his lip dripping onto the floorboards below. He struggled harder, even as the pig's mouth opened up wide. He felt as though there was something truly sickening about this creature, much more then just his size, weight, and apparent aggression would show. Something wrong with him on the inside. The dog did not want to find out. But his head was too far away from the pig's hands to bite, he was too small and weak, and the damage he sustained made breathing hurt- much less fighting back against this stronger male.

The pig's opened jaw was now ready it seemed; a gaping maw of dripping drool with the faint smell of porky breath washed over the canine's face as he was lifted up. The pig tilted his head back, and the doggo was forced to see a black maw opening beneath him. With a screech, the dog was shoved face first into the pig's open mouth, the short plunge muffling his cries as the rest of his body hung in the air. He sucked and panted as hard as he could, but he could barely breath in the dark, hot confines of his captor's throat. He felt more and more of his body lowered in, and eventually the pig was patting him on the buttocks on the way down, forcing the golden lab into his throat. Finally only the dog's paws stuck out the end of the pig's mouth, and with a slippery tongue they no longer felt the air of the moldy old house; they too were eaten. The lab was swallowed by the fatass pig man.

Within; the dog screamed as he felt the world outside disappear as he fell into darkness. The tight passage of the pig's throat bulged and squeezed him down the slippery tube. He could struggle, but even with his claws and teeth bared there was no way to escape this prison. He could barely breath; but he wasn't suffocating. It was so hot and humid inside his captor's body. He felt himself fall into a slightly larger chamber- the stomach perhaps. The liquid inside tickled his skin, and he felt himself itch all over. Was he melting? Was his hair falling out? He couldn't see or know anything, just hear the churning of the pig's guts and the dog's own panicked breathing. He punched as hard as he could with what little leverage he could get, and all it did was bounce back harmlessly.

Outside; the pig put both hands on his massive, distended belly. "Woah! Settle down." He coughed to himself. The dog's fist bashed as it hard as it could inside his stomach, and he felt a tiny baby bump from the impact. The fatass pig moved his legs in wide, broad steps to cope with his newly stretched stomach. His elastic wife beater shirt rode up on his stomach, until it eventually popped up around his midsection, unable to accommodate the girth any longer. Even his sweatpants were far too tight now; and after reaching down underneath his body with his hand as best he could, he managed to snap the waistband and pull down, leaving him naked. He sighed in relief as his greatly bloated body was finally given space, and he sunk his flab down along the massive couch in the next room over. Going up or down the stairs in his condition was not an option; so he had to settle for the couch instead. It creaked from his weight, and the pig breathed deeply to settle his humongous tummy.

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The canine had no way to keep track of time. Even worse then the oppressive darkness and crushing peristaltic walls around him was the fact it was so damn hard to breath in this place. He wondered how he was still alive, and that tingling along his skin had worsened. He knew he was being digested alive, and the horrible fate to which he had no escape, but at the same time he was thankful it was not somehow worse. Occasionally, the dog would lean his head back as best he could and close his eyes, the injury and lack of air down inside a porker's belly meant he could pass out. He would get some sleep here and there, always returning with slightly different sounds and smells around him.

He felt himself pushing back in his lidless, half sleeping moments, as though the pig's belly fat was like a wet blanket. As though he could break himself free if he just went a little harder. The wetness on his outstretched arms seemed to fade like he was breaking through! The logic in his mind hadn't kicked on yet, he was basically dreaming, but it was so vivid and real. Was he truly escaping? Then there was a light, as though shown through several layers of wet, fleshy fabrics he could barely see. Gasping for breath and fighting as best he could, it seemed to take hours for him to feel himself laying somewhere else. Every time he'd lose focus he'd feel wetness and the stomach acid on his fingers, and then shake them off to feel fabrics beneath and above him. Moving up his tube as he could, he felt a pillowed mass just above his snout. He bit it; hoping it was the bastard's liver and pancreas before tasting feathers and fluff. Spitting it out, he opened his heavy eyelids to realize he was somewhere else now.

Looking around him, he was in a tiny room. It was a prison cell; and him on the top bunk. There was a heavy iron door with bars, each of which dripped with blood or caustic acid, but as soon as he looked away they become dry again. He heard the dripping of an intensive, which became just leaky pipes. He looked down at his briny, prune-fingered hand paws for his long immersion in the caustic solution of the pig's stomach, but with a shake they finally were free of all juices. He was in bed, in an orange jumpsuit.

What happened? Was he in heaven or hell? Purgatory? Did he even die? Or was he in a coma of some kind? He would have wondered if the encounter he had with the pig was all a dream he had while serving his time in prison, but he noticed a pair of eyes staring up at him from below, and with a chill that went through his entire body he realized it was the pig man himself, peering up at him.

"Who- What!?" The canine began, but the pig reached up a hand to his mouth, shushing him with a fat finger. The pig lowered his hand and stepped up to the side of the bed, his great weight creaking the metal frame of the bunkbed as he stood on the bottom to peer the canine right in the face.

"Uh oh- you're in jail now with a big ol' cellmate named Bubba." The pig raised up his left arm to reveal a tattoo that said "Bubba", with a heart pierced with an arrow and the stereotypical "Mom" tattoo. The pig raised his eyes brows, rubbing his fingers together. "Looks like you're ending up as a prison bitch."

The dog grimaced, leaning back away from the pig. His attitude, appearance, everything was so strange. Why was he even here? He was just eaten a few hours ago- but he had no idea of the passage of time. "No! Leave me alone!" The canine finally said back, sitting as far away from the big pig as he could on his top bunk.

The pig sighed in response, smiling. He raised a hand up to his head, which now had a bright blue police officer cap on it. The dog's eyes had only glanced away for a moment, and now the pig's body was covered in a officer's uniform.

"They never learn the first time. Looks like you need a little more punishment." The pig sneered, snapping his fingers. The dog felt as though a great weight was placed on his back now, pulling him down into the bed covers, which now looked pink as though soaked in blood. He screamed out and felt acid on his tongue, the light of the jail cell flickering off and the Labrador realized he was back in the stomach again; painfully squeezed from all sides; his body even weaker then last time.

Fighting pitifully against his captor yet again, the dog could do nothing but pant and wish for that comfortable jail cell back again- anything would be better then this stomach! After another hour of torture he did they unthinkable and actually begged the pig for forgiveness, asking for mercy. He received no answer but the gurgles of the stomach around him, only feeling himself sinking deeper into the gut of this predator, knowing that he would have to suffer his punishment until the pig showed mercy.

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There was a bright splashing down on the pool. Two topless females; one a squirrel, and another a deer girl, splashed and giggled as they hit each other with pool noodles. Just on the edge of the pool was a fat pig man, and the golden Labrador boy approached with his plate full of drinks. He had no idea if the girls were just projections, illusions for his amusement, or actual victims of the pig's power, but he wasn't going to ask. Instead, he simply approached his pig master, setting down the fruity alcohol in his hand, and kneeling down besides the pig tyrant.

"Hope you're enjoying the refreshments, sir." The canine said respectfully, his voice kept at an intentional soft, and quiet level. Just like the pig liked. "If there is anything else you would like, I am free for your use. Perhaps you would enjoy my tongue along your scrotum, or worshiping your heavenly rear end?" The dog asked submissively. He wore nothing but a tiny black bowtie and a little skin-tight black speedo, which had hiked upwards to allow his own pinkish tailhole to be clearly visible, just in case the pig wanted to use it.

"Mhmm- That's what I like to hear. I bet you'd like to lick my asshole for hours, wouldn't you?" The gruff pig man asked his canine slave, giving him an evil grin even as he stirred and sipped his martini.

"Yes Master- nothing would bring me more purpose and pleasure then serving you in any way you deem fit." The canine said, raising both hands to his chest and whimpering pathetically, exactly how he was taught.

"That's a good boy. Keep it up, and you'll avoid punishment for another night." The pig said, turning over in his chair to reveal his masculine, fat, hairy ass and present it to the dog slave. Without a word, the puppy dove right in, worshipping and serving his master's more depraved sexual desires. After this, the dog would probably suck his master's cock, and bend over to get rutted as well. Anything he wished; because that's what good dogs do. He closed his eyes and tried not to think about where he really was, or where the pig might send him at the slightest offense. Just do as your told, and you won't be punished. He tried his best to choke back his tears, which dripped down uselessly into the gutters besides the pool.