The 3 Little Pigs - the Uncut Version
Three Little Pigs: The Uncut Version
By Gideon Kalve Jarvis
Anyone who has seen the large amounts of fan works, both in writing and in art, related to the many creations of the Disney Company will quickly realize something: there is a lot of stuff going on that doesn't make it past the censors at Disney Studios. So here is my own minor contribution to the large bulk of writings about the more adult-oriented side of Disney's cartoon characters. If the thought of helpless male anthropomorphic pigs squealing loudly as they are roughly humped by a well-hung male wolf offends your sensibilities, or you are too young to read about such things, then please go elsewhere.
And, for any interested in such things, this is a fan work. I do not own any of the characters involved, who are, rather, owned by the Disney Corporation.
Fifer Pig wiped his brow as he finished weaving the straw mats of his little house together and wished that pigs could sweat. It was almost always pleasantly warm in the part of the country where he and his brothers, Fiddler and Practical, had decided to live - a big part of their reason for moving there - but at times like this it was a bit of a bother. Fifer couldn't understand why his older brother, Fiddler, would bother with something as cumbersome as sticks to build his house. Maybe it was a bit sturdier, but Fifer couldn't see much point in the extra work. After all, they'd checked out the neighborhood thoroughly before moving in, and aside from the dark woods next to the treeless, gently sloping hill where the three little pigs lived, there wasn't anything dangerous in the region to worry about. Since Fifer had no intention of entering said woods, he felt quite secure in his choice of building materials in case someone tried to bother him. It was enough to keep out salesmen and unwanted relatives, and that was enough.
"And if Fiddler's a bit impractical, Practical is just plain nuts," giggled Fifer, looking up the hill to the very top, where the newly-completed eldest pig's house stood. "Red brick. Good grief, how'd that maniac do it without collapsing from the heat? And speaking of which," he looked at the cool waters of the swimming hole lying just within the gentle shade of the forest, "I could use a quick cool-down after all this work."
With that, Fifer took off toward the inviting swimming hole, stripping off his shirt and little white sailor's hat as he ran and tossing them onto a nearby rock when he came to the bank. He grinned in pleasant surprise as he discovered his brother, Fiddler, already paddling around in the water, his blue shirt and cap not far from where Fifer had thrown his own clothes.
"Cannonball!" yelled Fifer, giving a happy squeal as he leapt from the bank into the water, tucking himself in to maximize his wave-making ability.
When Fifer came up he shook his head, then looked around, grinning. The grin slipped, and then failed as he saw Fiddler, who was now sitting on the bank with his arms folded, a frown on his face as he dripped water.
"If you're going to make all these waves, there won't be much water left in the pool," said the second eldest little pig in a gruff voice. "And even if you don't spill out all the water, you could have drowned me with all that splashing." Then his face cracked into a big grin. "At least I'm sure that's what Practical would say."
Fifer laughed, paddling toward his brother as the slightly older pig dangled his trotters in the water.
"That ol' sourpuss would complain that crops were dying on a perfect sunny day like today, and then get upset at the rain because it meant he couldn't hang his laundry out to dry," agreed Fifer, coming to a stop in front of his brother. Then he grinned and winked. "Still, want me to make it up to you for splashing you with water?"
Fiddler leaned back on his hands, watching Fifer with a knowing smile.
"It never hurts to get a little bit of comfort for what ails me," he said with a nod.
"Anything to help out my bro," said Fifer, paddling against the shore as he reached up and began to gently stroke the naked pig's nicely-sized balls, leaning in his head to plant a kiss on Fiddler's sheath. "You'll be feeling better in no time at all."
With that, Fifer bent his head and took one of Fiddler's balls into his mouth, carefully rolling it around with his tongue, then switched to the other one, enjoying the smooth texture of the full orbs contained in the pig's sac. Fiddler moaned and gripped the grassy sward as he watched his brother work, basking in the sensations.
"That's it, bro," encouraged Fiddler as Fifer started to nibble his way up the little pig's fully erected cock. "Eat me like only you can."
"Not if I eat you both first," said a deep, gruff voice coming from the direction of the dark, black forest.
Both little pigs turned to see who could have spoken, and their eyes grew as wide as saucers when they saw the speaker. It was a large black-furred wolf, his body lean and lanky, his walk confident and sure. He wore a pair of red overalls and a tall, battered hat, and his long white muzzle was split in a toothy, evil grin. The Big Bad Wolf gave the two pigs a quick once-over with his knowing eyes, and slowly licked his chops in anticipation.
"Cute show, little pigs," said the wolf, walking ever closer to the two pigs, "but it's time for my fun now."
Fifer gave a squeal then, overcome with a burst of panicked energy, and scrambled onto the bank, getting a hand up from Fiddler before they both raced to the rock with their clothes on the opposite side of the lake from the wolf. The wolf didn't seem to be in a hurry to chase them, his eyes following their haunches with a hungry glint as they ran.
"Run home, Fiddler!" yelled Fifer, taking off toward his own house of straw, his shirt and hat in his hands. He risked a glance over his shoulder, and squealed in terror when he saw the Big Bad Wolf come out of the woods around the swimming hole, following hot on the little pig's tail. His fear still pumping adrenaline through his body, Fifer put in a last, desperate burst of speed, and dove into his house, slamming the door behind him.
The Big Bad Wolf came to a stop outside the first little pig's house and gave a soft chuckle as he saw that he was facing a house made of straw. Shaking his head, he raised his hand and knocked gently on the door.
"Little pig, little pig," he said in his deep, gruff voice, "let me come in."
"Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin," retorted Fifer saucily, putting his little white hat on his head at a rakish angle. He felt very confident now that he was inside the house he'd built with his own hands that afternoon, and felt quite daring.
"Then I'll huff," began the wolf, his deep voice quiet at first, but quickly rising in tempo, "and I'll puff, and I'll blow your house in!"
Fifer peeked out through a window, blinking in surprise as the wolf began to breath in, taking deeper and deeper breaths as his chest expanded incredibly. Then, when Fifer thought the wolf had expanded his chest more than was physically possible, the wolf let it all out in a blasting gust that tore through the weak straw house, leaving only the central pole standing! Fifer had very nearly been blown away himself with all of the debris, but had prevented this by grabbing onto this tall pole just as he flew by, his shirt flapping into his face as he hung on. Then, as the gale died down, Fifer landed in a pile of scattered straw, getting the wind knocked out of him with the impact.
Picking himself up, Fifer reached for the shirt on his face and pulled it off, blinking as he looked around. He soon wished he hadn't, though, for filling his vision was the black abdomen of the Big Bad Wolf.
"Ah!" squealed Fifer, turning to try and run away again. But it was too late. The wolf's strong arms wrapped around his body, and the struggling little pig was pinned, face down on the ground.
"You're real cute, little pig," said the Big Bad Wolf in his deep, gruff voice. "Cute arse, too."
Fifer squealed again as he felt one big, rough hand close on one of his firm, rounded rumpcheeks, the wolf's other hand pinning the little pig's arms behind his back. The Big Bad Wolf chuckled at the pig's squeal, then slipped a finger under Fifer's curly tail, growling lustily when he discovered just how tight Fifer really was. The helpless little pig squealed all the louder at this invasion. He'd never taken anyone under the tail, only played around orally with his brothers, and he feared the rough deflowering that he knew this massive beast would give him in the all-too-near future. The Big Bad Wolf rolled his eyes at this reaction, and removed his finger before hoisting Fifer onto the tips of his trotters. He held Fifer's wrists above the little pig's head with one hand and looked down at the mostly-naked little porker. The Big Bad Wolf's tongue slid out, and then did a slow and very deliberate swipe across his muzzle, licking his chops at the sexy, helpless little pig now completely at his mercy.
"Aw, hush up," said the wolf with a grin. "I'm not gonna pop your tailcherry just yet. The mailbox said yer name was Fifer. That so?"
Fifer's mouth was too dry for him to respond, though he did stop squealing. The little pig nodded, looking up at the ruggedly, scarily handsome face of the Big Bad Wolf, who was eyeing the pig with a knowing gleam in his eye.
"Well, Fifer," continued the Big Bad Wolf, reaching up with his free hand to the buttons holding up his overalls. "I've said I wasn't gonna hump ya, and I meant it. But as you can see," he let the flap of his overalls drop, "I've got myself a bit of a problem here."
Fifer's eyes grew huge and his mouth dropped open at the sight before him. The Big Bad Wolf, a creature known far and wide for his rapacious nature across all of the land of fairytales, was big in a lot more than just his height. Thick, too, and more than enough to make the little pig start to salivate despite himself. The wolf himself was lean and lithe, with wiry black fur across the taught muscles of his firm abdomen and muscled chest. Fifer felt himself lowered from where he was standing on tip-trotter, and then his wrists were released as the big hand settled onto his head, right alongside his little white sailor's cap. He swallowed nervously as he was pressed to his knees, his wide, frightened eyes looking up at the wolf, making the predator start to drool in anticipation.
"As you can see, I've got quite a fife on me," growled the wolf sexily, pulling Fifer's face closer until his upturned snout was almost touching the plump, plum-colored head of the wolf's cock. "And what that fife really needs is a little blowing, if you take my meaning. So you're gonna take care of my problem, little pig, or I'm gonna find out how those hams of yours feel squeezed around my big bad cock. You got it?"
"Y-yessir," gulped Fifer, his eyes lowering submissively, and falling directly onto the big, precum-dripping cock right in front of him.
Forcing himself to relax, Fifer tilted his head up a little, nuzzling the slit at the end of the plump glans, and then flicked his little tongue over the head, making the Big Bad Wolf shiver with mounting pleasure. The little pig reached up with his hands and carefully took the fat wolfballs into his grasp, hefting their substantial weight and then gently petting and rubbing them, coaxing the twin orbs to rise and pump out more of the wolf's spunk when his climax hit. Fifer blinked in some surprise as he tasted the Big Bad Wolf's precum on his tongue, finding it a little tangy and actually not that unpleasant, despite what he'd heard about meat eaters. With a quick glance up at the wolf, Fifer opened his mouth and took the head of the Big Bad Wolf's cock in, swirling his tongue around eagerly. Closing his eyes, the little pig began to slowly bob his head, sinking ever-so-gradually down the long, thick shaft that filled his mouth more than anyone's ever had before. He rippled his tongue across the underside, just like his brother Fiddler liked him to do it, and then gave a soft moan of surprised arousal as his snout suddenly pressed into the wiry black fur of the Big Bad Wolf's groin. He'd taken it all, and couldn't help but look up at the Big Bad Wolf with fear and eagerness in his eyes.
"That's a good little piggy," said the Big Bad Wolf, petting Fifer's head as he smiled, showing all his sharp teeth. "Way to eat my little bad wolf. Now start moving, or I'll just have to hump yer face to get my rocks off."
Fifer complied with the wolf's demand, his head starting to slide forward and back even as he hollowed out his cheeks, putting some good suction onto the Big Bad Wolf's cock. Though Fifer, being rather submissive by nature (a trait he shared with Fiddler), was actually enjoying being roughly handled like this, he was also quite afraid of having that massive pole forced under his tail. He wanted to do whatever he could to make sure the Big Bad Wolf stayed happy, and so he used all of his skill at fellatio to ensure that this stayed the case. Forcing himself to breathe through his nose, Fifer pressed his face forward as far as it could go, then gulped a little, taking the Big Bad Wolf's huge cock right down his throat. This made the wolf's eyes close and a soft growl of intense pleasure escape his mouth. Taking this as encouragement, Fifer began to bob his head up and down like mad, moving a little from side to side to put just enough bend in the wolf's massive cock to heighten his pleasure even further.
"Ooh, this little piggy likes roast beef," the wolf snarled up at the exposed sky. "And he's gonna get a lot of it, too!"
Fifer almost gagged suddenly as the Big Bad Wolf grabbed his head in both his powerful hands and began to pump the poor little pig's face up and down his shaft, raping Fifer's mouth and throat without mercy. The little pig tried to say something, to protest his cruel abuse, even as his hands reached up to try and push against the Big Bad Wolf's rock-hard stomach. But in the end all his struggles were futile: the Big Bad Wolf was just too strong. If anything, Fifer's struggles just made him hornier, and soon his back arched as his hips slammed forward, his cock plugging off Fifer's throat even as the Big Bad Wolf began to cum hard! His strong-tasting cum spurted out in thick ropes of white, and Fifer had no choice but to swallow it all as his face was pressed against the wiry black fur of the wolf's groin, the huge black balls bouncing against his chin, letting him feel as they pulsed with every massive burst of semen down his throat.
"Ahh," sighed the Big Bad Wolf in contentment as his orgasm slowly petered out. As he felt himself gradually calming down he pulled his hips back, jerking his cock from Fifer's mouth, and squirted his last bursts of white cum right across the little pig's mouth and face. Finally finished, the Big Bad Wolf released Fifer's head, and the poor, abused little pig fell back onto the pile of straw that had once been his house, a look of dazed confusion upon his cum-smeared face. The Big Bad Wolf looked down at Fifer and licked his lips again, going down onto his knees and then taking both of Fifer's ankles in one big hand, hoisting them up into the air.
"You enjoyed that," laughed the Big Bad Wolf, gesturing with his free hand. Fifer just looked up at the wolf, then down at the throbbing erection that was now pressed against his cute pot belly. His eyes growing wide with fear as he realized what the wolf was going to do next, Fifer looked up with pleading eyes, shaking his head while mouthing a silent 'No.'
"Don't even bother, slut," growled the Big Bad Wolf, bending his head to sniff at the little pig's smooth, hairless balls. "Only sluts suck as good as you did, virgin arse notwithstanding. You want to be mounted, slut, and roughly, too." He stroked his massive cock, which was already starting to regain its erection. "You want me to stick this in you and hump you within an inch of your life, don't you, slut?"
Fifer could only keep shaking his head, a soft whimpering sound coming out of his throat, as his voice had seized up and was no longer obeying him. The Big Bad Wolf just laughed at him again, then began to lick his pink balls with his impossibly long, smooth tongue, making poor Fifer squirm with unwanted pleasure, his eyes closing as he started moaning almost as much as he was whimpering. Then he felt that devilish tongue go a little lower, and his eyes popped open wide, all sound suddenly ceasing from his mouth as pleasure unlike anything he'd ever imagined began to wrack his body. The Big Bad Wolf had thrust his slick, smooth tongue right into Fifer's tailhole, and as the thick pink organ began to wriggle around inside the little pig, Fifer began to wriggle as well, manipulated like a puppet on a string. His head was pounding with blood as it rushed down to his cock, and he had to wonder how he hadn't been blasted over the edge of orgasm already. Finally the Big Bad Wolf drew his muzzle back, and Fifer began to gasp convulsively as he tried (and failed) to regain control of himself.
"I like a clean little tailhole," said the wolf with an evil grin. "Now grab your ankles, slut," ordered the Big Bad Wolf, releasing Fifer's legs. The little pig instantly complied, pulling his legs back and leaving his tight virgin tailhole utterly exposed to whatever the cruel wolf might want to do with him.
"Beg me to rape you," the Big Bad Wolf said in a low, menacing voice. Fifer looked at the wolf with wide, pleading eyes, but his will was broken, and he had to obey.
"P-please, sir," said Fifer in a small, submissive voice, his eyes lowering in abject subjugation. "Please rape me. I'm a slut, sir, and I need to be humped hard."
The Big Bad Wolf laughed once more, this time in fiendish delight at the willingness of his new little pet. Then, unexpectedly, he stood up.
"I like you, Fifer," said the Big Bad Wolf with a chuckle. He offered his hand to the little pig, who stared at it stupidly for a few moments, then took the proffered hand to be drawn to his feet.
"Here's your shirt," said the Big Bad Wolf, shoving the indicated item into Fifer's hands. "Take it and your cap and get running. I'm going to be arriving at your brother's house in a very short while, and if I catch you before you get there, I'm going to do things to you that will make you keep on squealing for a few days at the very least. Got it?"
Fifer nodded wordlessly, turning to go.
"Good," said the wolf, his big hand slapping Fifer's firm butt, making the little pig give a sharp squeal before he took off running with all his might. The Big Bad Wolf licked his chops as he watched Fifer's haunches flexing with every step of his short legs. He could catch the little pig quite easily if he wanted, but the way he had chosen had much sweeter rewards.
Fifer, meanwhile, was running as fast as his little legs could carry him, heedless of the fact that he was both naked and sporting a sizeable erection. His brother, Fiddler, saw him coming out of a side window, and had the door open when Fifer got there, letting the little pig dash into the door and collapse in exhaustion into a chair. Fiddler closed and locked the wooden door, then turned to make sure his brother was all right.
"What did that monster do to you?" said Fiddler with worry and indignation as he looked his brother from head to toe, though his eyes kept stopping back at his brother's plump, pink cock, and the glistening liquid on the younger pig's face that looked suspiciously like cum. "I couldn't see what happened because of a rise on the hill. All I saw was his head, growling something to you, and that's all. Here," and at this he grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl on his dinner table and pressed it into Fifer's hands, "eat this, and tell me all about it. Then we can go get this sucker and make him pay for what he did. I'm sure Practical will know what to do about the wolf."
"I . . . I don't want to talk about it right now," gasped Fifer, pulling on his shirt and then straightening his little white sailor's hat as he held the apple in one hand. "It was just too . . ."
"Little pig, little pig," said a deep, gruff voice at the door. "Let me come in."
Fifer looked at Fiddler and started to warn his brother, but before he could say a thing the middle pig turned and stormed up to the door.
"Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin!" he shouted angrily. "What did you do to my brother, you monster?"
"You'll soon find out," answered the deep voice. "And if you won't let me in, then I'll huff," and suddenly the whole house began to lean a little bit toward the door, as though a great wind were blowing. "And I'll puff," and now both Fifer and Fiddler felt themselves pulled a little forward by the force of the wind. "And I'll blow your house in!"
The next moment Fiddler found himself standing in front of a bare doorframe, the sticks making it up having been completely blown away, its remnants lying around his house in little piles. Despite the power behind the wolf's breath, he'd controlled it sufficiently so that only the door had been blown down. The Big Bad Wolf walked into the room then, a broad and evil smile on his face as he drooled hungrily, looking over the two little pigs.
"Well, well," he said in a low, growling voice. "Two pork chops for the price of one."
"Run, Fifer!" squealed Fiddler, grabbing his brother by the hand and yanking him to his feet. Fifer was too stunned with fright, shock and arousal at his own close call to resist or assist as Fiddler tried to yank him forward, dodging around the tall wolf in a desperate act. This act, unfortunately for them, proved futile, as the Big Bad Wolf's long, strong arms wrapped around both Fiddler and Fifer's waists, and lifted them easily into the air.
"You're not going anywhere," said the Big Bad Wolf with a deep growl at Fiddler, intimidating the blue-suited little pig into stillness for a little while. He turned and plopped Fifer back into the chair he'd just been occupying, then turned it to face the bed.
"You stay there and watch," growled the Big Bad Wolf menacingly, and Fifer nodded vigorously, not daring to disobey the one who'd so easily broken his will just a matter of minutes before. The Big Bad Wolf then reached down and took the apple out of Fifer's limp hands, smiled at it, and rubbed it on his overalls until it shone.
"You filthy beast!" yelled Fiddler at the top of his high-pitched voice, struggling futilely against the wolf's strong grip. "You sucker, you scum! Put me down, and we'll see how tough you really are in a fair fight! I'll show you what happens to people who mess with my brother. Nobody hurts Fifer and gets away with it! I'll mmph . . ."
Fiddler's voice was suddenly cut off as the Big Bad Wolf shoved the apple into his mouth, then pressed the little pig's jaws around it until it was quite stuck. The wolf gave a sigh of relief at this, and then dropped Fiddler face-down onto the bed.
"I hate loud noises," said the wolf as he easily caught Fiddler's wrists and pinned them behind the pig's back with one hand, seeming to be completely unaffected by the little pig's futile struggles against his incredible strength. He then winked at Fifer, who shivered at the familiarity. "Unless they're cries of pleasure, of course."
Fiddler kept struggling, trying to carry on his outraged tirade despite the apple in his mouth muffling his words into incomprehensibility. His stream of angry-sounding noise came to a sudden and very complete stop as the Big Bad Wolf turned and bent himself over Fiddler's body, so that the middle pig could feel the wiry fur of the wolf's chest rubbing against his smooth, upturned pink bottom, and gave a low, menacing growl.
"I don't think you understand the situation, little pig," said the Big Bad Wolf in a friendly tone of voice, seeming quite calm and pleasant now that Fiddler had gone quiet. "I'm the predator here, and you're the prey. It's nothing personal. It's just fun. For me, at least. And hopefully for you as well."
With this, the Big Bad Wolf moved his head slightly to the side, just enough so that Fiddler could see his face easily by turning his own head a little, and slowly licked his chops, drawing out the action for Fiddler's horrified wide eyes, as the realization of his situation finally sank in. Fiddler shook his head desperately upon seeing this, his eyes large and starting to water with frightened tears, but this only seemed to make the Big Bad Wolf more excited.
"Aw, the poor wittle piggy's crying," said the Big Bad Wolf in a mocking voice. "Heh, if you think you're screwed now, wait until I start my music lesson." He paused for a moment, thinking. "Your name is Fiddler, right?"
Fiddler nodded, his wide eyes never leaving the Big Bad Wolf.
"Good," said the wolf with a toothy grin. "I've been wanting to have a go at playing the fiddle for some time now. And just wait'll you see the bow."
Fiddler whimpered in abject terror as the Big Bad Wolf reached up with his free hand and unbuttoned his overalls, then shoved them down his lean, wiry body. The little pig's eyes were drawn to the Big Bad Wolf's massive black erection with its thick purple head, and suddenly Fiddler began to sob piteously as the Big Bad Wolf covered the little pig's body with his own, his coarse black hair rubbing against the poor little pig's smooth pink skin, while his huge cock slid up between the rounded cheeks of Fiddler's bottom. The Big Bad Wolf licked Fiddler's cheek, liking the taste of the little pig's salty tears, then slid back a little as his muzzle lowered and his tongue slithered out to torment the space beneath the little pig's tail. Fiddler's sobs suddenly stopped as his eyes grew wide once more. That tongue! Fifer, for all his oral skills, had never done something like this. The Big Bad Wolf's long, thick, smooth tongue slid effortlessly into Fiddler's tight, clean tailhole, probing his depths mercilessly, and rubbing against the little pig's mostly-neglected prostate. By the time that tongue withdrew, Fiddler's stubby pink penis was throbbing at full erection, his plump balls held close to his body and swollen with need, and his virgin rear passage, scantly concealed beneath his curly corkscrew tail, was glistening with wet slickness.
"There," said the Big Bad Wolf with a cruel laugh, "I knew all my instrument needed was a little tuning." He bent over and growled sexily in Fiddler's ear, letting the little pig feel the fat, throbbing head of his big cock rubbing against his tight anal ring. "Let's have a jam session, little piggy!"
Fifer cringed as he watched the Big Bad Wolf's haunches tense, and then plow forward, Fiddler's virgin tailhole suddenly being split wide open by the massive wolfcock. Fiddler squealed at the first penetration, his head jerking up, only to have the Big Bad Wolf shove his head back down onto the pillow, holding the little pig helplessly pinned to the bed while the cruel wolf ground his hips against that smooth bared backside until Fiddler has loosened up a bit, and then began to hump, his hips moving relentlessly, his cock plunging mercilessly into Fiddler's deepest places. It soon proved to be too much pleasure for Fiddler to endure, and his weak struggling soon stopped, and Fifer gaped as his brother began pressing back into the thrusts of the Big Bad Wolf, the cute pink cock that Fifer loved to play with so much dripping copious amounts of precum. The Big Bad Wolf turned as he heard Fifer gasp, and grinned when he saw the younger little pig's penis throbbing at full erection.
"Don't you dare touch that," growled the Big Bad Wolf as he grunted bestially with a particularly hard thrust into Fiddler's smooth, upturned backside. He waggled his tongue teasingly at Fifer, making the little pig shiver in anticipation and fear. "I'll deal with your needs soon enough, little pig."
Fifer just nodded mutely, his eyes never leaving the spectacle of the Big Bad Wolf vigorously humping his older brother's cute butt, one big hand holding the little pig down on the bed, the other wrapped around Fiddler's pink cock, stroking it in time to the thrusting of the wolf's merciless pace. Fiddler writhed in erotic torment on the bed, his pink penis dribbling precum copiously as he bit down harder on the apple in his mouth, his eyes squeezing shut from the intensity of the pleasure coursing through him. He didn't want it to feel good! It wasn't supposed to feel good! But it did. Try as he might to ignore the sensations coursing through his body with every rasp of the wolf's course bellyfur against his smooth back, Fiddler was fighting a losing battle. The Big Bad Wolf, meanwhile, was obviously enjoying himself, a big, predatory grin plastered across his face as he steadily screwed his helpless prey, loving the sounds of the little pig's muffled squeals with every especially rough thrust, and the constant moans of pleasure that let the big predator know he was doing it right. Then the Big Bad Wolf glanced over at Fifer, and gave an inviting toss of his head.
"Get over here," he growled, straightening up into a sitting position, lifting Fiddler with him, so that the poor, wriggling little pig was squirming in his lap, being bounced up and down that long, massive shaft, his head falling back against the wolf's furry chest, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. They opened with surprise and some alarm, though, as the hapless little pig felt a gentle touch on his aching pink cock as the Big Bad Wolf's hand was withdrawn, and looked down with wide eyes. Those eyes got a bit wider as Fiddler saw who it was that was wrapping their lips around his pink penis, sucking all his leaking watery precum down as Fiddler's lapdance made him pump up and down into that greedy muzzle: it was Fifer! Fifer was actually helping the Big Bad Wolf make Fiddler enjoy his erotic torments!
This was too much for the poor, overheated little piggy, and with a final breathless squeal, his head falling back, his eyes narrowing in exhaustion as a deep, embarrassed and pleasured flush settled across his face, Fiddler squirted his load of sticky cum right into Fifer's hungry mouth. Moments later both little pigs heard the Big Bad Wolf give a harsh grunt, before his copious load of wolfspunk splashed hard inside of Fiddler's quivering rump, leaking down the poor little piggy's legs. And, as Fiddler's orgasm petered off, Fifer eagerly licked it up off of his brother's smooth pink skin, cleaning him as the other pig shuddered and shivered through the last trembling moments of pleasure.
Lifting the now-limp, obviously thoroughly used-up Fiddler off of his cock, the tight porcine pucker clinging to his thick shaft every inch of the way, the Big Bad Wolf set the exhausted little pig on the bed, and stood up, grinning to himself as he walked to the door. Fifer watched him go with an almost hurt look on his face, and then looked down at his needy little pig penis before looking back at the grinning wolf. The Big Bad Wolf, evil beast that he was, just chuckled.
"Get your brother up and moving, Fifer," said the black-furred animal, grinning that sexy, menacing smile of his. "Quick, too. I like the taste of pork in more than one way, and if you aren't both out of here in ten minutes, I'm gonna see how you taste . . . roasted."
Fifer's eyes got huge upon hearing this, and he suddenly got a very clear but very momentary (and certainly crazed, for who wanted to go like that?) image of himself tied to a spit, naked and helpless and squealing in fear (or was it pleasure?) around an apple like the one shoved into his brother's mouth, basted in wolfcum and still glowing with an orgasmic flush to match his brother's after a savage, hours-long rape session by four horny wolflings, slowly turning over and over a fire as a young wolf, looking the spitting image of his father, worked the spit. And the Big Bad Wolf was looking on, laughing in delight as he sliced up vegetables for a big bubbling stewpot, both his brothers sitting in the bathtub-sized cooking container, similarly gagged as they squealed and squirmed and struggled against the bonds holding them nice and tight and still while they were made into a savory pork stew, still too weak from their own post-rape orgasms to put up more than a token resistance.
And then he came back to himself, shaking his head in absolute shock and denial of the throbbing pink erection that was standing out between his legs. It had to be all the arousal that the Big Bad Wolf had made him go through taking its toll. Yes, that is what it had to be . . . but that, of course, just raised a whole other set of horrible possibilities of things that had to be wrong with the poor, confused and desperately horny little pig. The Big Bad Wolf's knowing smile just made Fifer blush ever deeper, his erection staunchly refusing to go away.
"I . . . I'll get us going," said the little pig, not able to meet the wolf's eyes any more, turning to the bed to shake his brother, carefully working the apple out of the other pig's mouth.
In a few minutes, Fifer's efforts bore fruit, as Fiddler started awake, looking about in confusion, and then dawning horror as just what had happened (and how much he'd enjoyed it!) started to sink in. He began to curl up on the bed, sobbing piteously as he reached back to rub his poor, abused little bottom, which was still leaking wolfspunk and quite red from the slapping of the wolf's hips against the firm, nicely-rounded cheeks.
"No time for that, brother," said Fifer, pulling Fiddler from the bed and to his feet. "We can't stay here - he'll cook and eat us if we don't get going! He said he would, and I think he meant it!"
Both little pigs scanned the room then, but the Big Bad Wolf had left the house of sticks. Taking some strength from their fear, both of the poor, abused little piggies somehow got themselves up and moving, Fifer supporting his brother on a shoulder as they stepped out into the bright sun of the late afternoon, looking for all the world like survivors of a war or some other catastrophe. And then their eyes turned at the feel of an ominous presence . . .
"Boo," said the Big Bad Wolf, leaning against the side of the house of sticks. That was all it took, and suddenly both little pigs were off like shots, tearing up the hills as fast as they could manage under the circumstances, despite Fifer's unflagging erection and Fiddler's reddened rump, all the way to their brother Practical's house.
Practical was standing at the door, a very concerned look on his face as he saw his brothers arrive. He wore a white cap with a bill, and a pair of smart blue overalls, which were in far better shape than the patchy red ones worn by the Big Bad Wolf. Both brothers wasted no time in idle chatter, and raced past their brother and into the strong brick house, understanding at last their brother's wisdom in its construction as they threw themselves beneath the large bed against the far wall, their curly-tailed bottoms sticking out as they quivered in fright.
"What's going on?" asked Practical, stepping in after his brothers, the door still open behind him, his back towards it as he cocked his head to the side, frowning in puzzlement. "I heard some noises from down the hill. And why can't I see Fifer's house anymore?"
"It's the Big Bad Wolf!" exclaimed Fifer and Fiddler in unison, their voices muffled from beneath the bed. "He's coming this way!"
"Oh no," said that deep, growling voice from behind Practical. "He's already here."
Practical spun around in the doorway, gasping in startled fright as he saw the tall black wolf standing there, grinning so very toothily as he licked his chops, eyeing the pig over hungrily.
"Nice to meet you, Practical," said the Big Bad Wolf. "Nice to eat you as well."
With that, the wolf lunged at Practical, grabbing him tight about the waist with those big, strong hands of his. But where his brothers would have panicked in a moment of crisis like this, and struggled ineffectually against their stronger opponent as they were stripped, abused at leisure for an extended period, and then potentially given a one-way trip to a kitchen once the wolf was finished with the pig in question, Practical kept his head. Reaching out, he caught hold of the doorframe with one hand, and a long brass shoehorn standing by the side of the door with the other. Swinging the shoehorn around, the overall-clad little pig brought it down with a loud clang on the Big Bad Wolf's head. This was enough to make the wolf let his quarry go, and Practical took the instant's distraction to slip inside and slam the door shut, locking it behind him just before the Big Bad Wolf started to pound and pummel the sturdy, reinforced wooden door with stout metal hinges.
"Open this door and let me in!" snarled the Big Bad Wolf angrily, quite mad now at having his desires frustrated right when he thought he was the victor.
"Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin," replied Practical with a smug smirk.
"Then I'll huff! And I'll puff! And I'll blow your house in!" yelled the Big Bad Wolf at the top of his lungs, before he took a few steps back, and started to breathe in, his chest expanding at a prodigious rate. But this time, instead of the explosion of mortar and wood and metal that he'd expected and hoped for, the house of bricks and stone just stood there, unmoved, untouched, seemingly invincible to even the passing of ages.
"He won't be getting at us anymore," said Practical, walking over to the bed to comfort his brothers. Fiddler was already starting to slide out, his face hopeful. Fifer, however, stayed where he was, as much out of shame as fear, for he was still sporting a furious erection that seemed to lurch to full renewal every time he heard the voice of the Big Bad Wolf.
Then, just at that moment, the scrape of claws on brick could be heard, and as Practical turned to the fireplace, little chips and flakes of mortar could be seen falling down.
"He's coming down the chimney!" exclaimed Fiddler in terror, looking at his brother with fearful, pleading eyes, hoping that Practical would save them, somehow.
Practical did his best not to disappoint. Sliding his largest cooking pot into place, already filled with water for the supper that he'd been planning on fixing in a short while, the smart little pig banked the fire until it was nice and high and hot, and the water in the pot was starting to bubble, even as flecks of brick dust and mortar plopped into the pot. Folding his arms and looking quite smug, Practical grinned and winked at Fiddler, who returned the wink conspiratorially, looking much-relieved at what was certain to be their salvation. Fifer, though, still wouldn't believe it, and stayed where he was, his naked pink bottom sticking out from beneath the bed as he whimpered to himself, not sure what to think or feel anymore. And then there was a scraping and scratching sound as something large and furry slid down the chimney, and the three little pigs held their breaths with anticipation.
But, though the plan was a good one, it had one fatal flaw: the Big Bad Wolf might not come sliding down the chimney, but shimmy down instead, which would greatly slow his descent, and give him time to react. This is, unfortunately for the little pigs, exactly what the wolf did. Feeling the hot water with one toe, the Big Bad Wolf swung himself out, and landed with a grin on the floorboards just beyond the fireplace, winking and then shaking his finger at Practical as though the third little pig had been a very naughty boy in trying to boil the Big Bad Wolf up as he had.
With a squeal of fright, a very rare thing for the clever eldest little pig, Practical turned and broke for the stairs to his house's second floor, Fiddler close behind him. But Fifer was still beneath the bed, and had only just begun to pull himself out as he heard the heady footsteps of the Big Bad Wolf on the floor, when a pair of massive furry hands seized his poor upturned rump, and yanked it up as he felt something big and hairy get to its knees behind him.
"Not fast enough, Fifer," chuckled the Big Bad Wolf, rubbing a bit of cooking oil, taken from the stove near the fireplace, onto the little pig's bottom until it shone and his tailhole was nice and slick, the whole process making the helplessly aroused little pig squirm and whimper. "Now you're gonna get what you've been wanting all along. Everything that you've been wanting."
Fifer knew what that meant, knew that the Big Bad Wolf had seen how hot and horny he'd gotten at the mention of being made into a tasty roasted little pig, and gave a sob of despair as he felt that big, throbbing wolfcock prodding him in his tight virgin tailhole, gradually easing forward, spreading him open even as a big hand reached around and wrapped around his poor needy piggy penis.
"Spitted pig," growled the wolf lustily. "One of my favorites."
With that, Fifer gave a gasp, no other sound able to escape his mouth as his tiny pink tailhole gave way to the irresistible force pressing into him from behind. It was better than he'd imagined! The feel of a large male's penis stroking against his prostate was something he'd never thought could be so good, and within seconds his pent-up tensions overflowed, and he gave another, louder squeal, spurting his cum all over the floor beneath his eldest brother's bed.
Hauled out by the Big Bad Wolf, who was just getting warmed up it seemed, Fifer gasped and wriggled in erotic torment as he was set on the bed and speared once more, the Big Bad Wolf growling and snapping and then closing his jaws gently around the poor piggy's tender pink neck, sucking on the smooth skin as Fifer's senses reeled, his senses overloaded, his world rocked beyond all reality as he was humped like a bitch in heat, and, after what had to be hours, was left lying in a puddle of his own cum (how many times had he cum?), the Big Bad Wolf sitting nearby, chuckling to himself as he patted the cute, gasping little pig on his fine pink rump, and then looked up the stairs.
"You'd better give yourself up, Practical and Fiddler," said the Big Bad Wolf in that deep, gruff voice of his. "If you don't, then I'm going to have roast pig for supper. And I'm going to cook him right here, in your own kitchen."
Fifer just lay there on the bed, head on the pillow, in a euphoric daze as he watched the Big Bad Wolf moving about the kitchen, getting a nice, big baking pan and a host of other good things. He idly thought that the honey glaze the Big Bad Wolf chose out of one of Practical's cupboards would probably go nicely with his tender meat, not quite able in his sleepy, post-orgasmic state to put together that it was him going into the oven in the very near future. In fact, he didn't resist at all, instead starting to harden once more, as he was lifted up by the Big Bad Wolf, his wrists and ankles tied in front of him, and then his arms and legs tied together at the knees and elbows, all with some sturdy twine that Practical had kept handy around the kitchen, before he was lowered, naked and drizzled in wolfcum, into the pan.
"Mmm-mmm," said the Big Bad Wolf as he dusted on the honey glaze with a kitchen brush until Fifer's smooth pink skin shone with a light sheen of the sweet, sticky stuff. "Tasty roast little pig - one of my favorites. If you're not going to give yourselves up, little pigs, then at least come down for a bite once I have him finished cooking." The wolf cackled at this, winking at Fifer as though it were all just a big joke, and the dazed little piggy returned the smile, his face still quite dreamy, even as he was lifted up, lying in the pan, and carried across the room. It wasn't until he felt the searing heat of the oven on his bare, cum-coated backside as he was set down on the open oven door that he suddenly realized what was happening, and began to squeal in fright, before having his panicked cries cut off by a plump, juicy apple shoved into his mouth, leaving him to sob and snivel and look up at the Big Bad Wolf with pleading eyes as the cruel lupine just licked his chops, and started to slide the big baking pan forward, into the oven.
"Wait!" came a voice from the stairs, and both Fifer and the Big Bad Wolf's eyes turned to look - it was Practical, come to save the day, surely! "I . . . What do you want from us?" said the overall-clad little pig, setting his jaw as he got ready to take whatever it was that the Big Bad Wolf was going to dish out. The wolf just chuckled, seeing Fiddler close behind his brother, horrified tears on his cute chubby face.
"Not too much, really," said the Big Bad Wolf. "I've already had what I really wanted from Fiddler, and then from Fifer here. But I haven't had it from you yet, Mister Practical Pig." He licked his chops, standing up and turning down the heat on the oven, though he left Fifer lying there on the sturdy oven door, ready to be popped into the oven at any moment should Practical fail him. "What I want from you is, first, for Fiddler to sit there," and with that he motioned to a chair by the kitchen table. Fiddler whimpered softly, but at Practical's nod he did as he was told, and the Big Bad Wolf soon had his wrists tied behind his back and his ankles bound to the legs of the chair before he stood up once more, eyeing Practical with a knowing glint in his eyes.. "And now that I don't have to worry about interruptions or last-minute rescues, I want you, Practical, to take off your overalls."
Practical gasped at this, and took a step backwards. But the Big Bad Wolf just flicked his eyes over Fifer, still only moments away from being popped into the oven and made into a tasty pork roast, and then over Fiddler, before his eyes shifted back to the pot in the fireplace, still bubbling away nicely, and then back to Practical.
"A fine place to make stewed pork, don't you think?" he said with a teasing note to his voice, making Fiddler gasp and start to squirm as he realized what the Big Bad Wolf might do to him if Practical didn't comply. "And you'll do nicely tied to a spit and done to a golden turn, once I get you back to my den. After I let my cubs have their way with you for a few hours, that is. They just love taking the ol' porkswords to pork."
For a moment Practical wavered, his expression one of outrage and shock at the stark insolence of the Big Bad Wolf, coming into his house uninvited, raping his brothers, and now threatening to cook them with his own kitchen equipment. His mouth opened, and the words that were going to come out were ones of defiance, daring the Big Bad Wolf to do his worst. And then Practical's eyes shifted to his brothers, each of them looking at him with desperate pleading in their expressions, tears streaming down Fifer's cheeks, while Fiddler's bottom lip trembled, and his resolve failed, his shoulders slumping, his face turning to the floor, unable to watch the Big Bad Wolf's triumphant, toothy grin as Practical reached up, and unhooked the buttons of his overalls, letting the blue denim fall to the floor, leaving him naked save for his white bulled cap.
"That's a good little piggy," said the Big Bad Wolf in his teasingly condescending voice, seating himself on the bed, eyeing Practical up and down. "Hmm, or rather, a good big piggy; much bigger than your brothers, to say the least. Now get over here, on your knees - my big bad cock needs some slickness to it for what I intend to do with you, and your mouth should do fine for that."
Practical, having enjoyed (though he would deny it if asked) more than a few pleasured moments of Fifer's oral talents, knew what the wolf wanted, and, after swallowing down his pride, did as he was told, kneeling before the Big Bad Wolf, and reaching out with his hands. Only to have them batted gently away by the wolf's big paws.
"Your mouth only, pig," growled the wolf, leaning back on the bed to watch the show, chuckling at the cute pink flush that settled onto Practical's dimpled cheeks at this indignity. But the eldest little pig complied, doing exactly as he was told, though with much less skill than Fifer, certainly. Less skill, but, after a short adjustment period, no less enthusiasm. The Big Bad Wolf watched Practical wrap his cute lips around the fat, plum-colored head of his wolfcock, and then start noisily suckling his way down, pigslobber wetting the rest of the length. Practical then started to bob his head, his eyes closed, humming to himself softly, seeming almost to forget to whom he was doing this, losing himself in the pleasure of work - even if it was work on another male's penis. The Big Bad Wolf, for his part, just enjoyed himself, reaching down a big hairy paw to stroke Practical's head and the back of his neck, making the eldest pig sigh in gradual relaxation as he kept up his work.
"That should about do it," said the Big Bad Wolf finally, some minutes later, his cock leaking precum rather copiously, and Practical gulping down every last drop of it before the wolf gently pulled the pig's head back, and then slid up onto the bed, lying back, and then reaching down to hold his cock up straight. "Now, come on over here, Practical, and straddle my chest."
Practical was still gasping a bit, catching his breath from the deep-throating he'd been doing (and without being forced - had he actually . . . enjoyed what he'd been doing? The erect pink length between his legs stood as a silent accuser), but then shook his head slightly, to clear it, and did as he was told, climbing up onto the sheets, and then seating his firm, rounded tush on the broad, solid chest of the wiry black wolf. The Big Bad Wolf's big paws reached out then, and took a firm hold on Practical's hips, pushing him forward, as that sharp-toothed maw gaped open. For a moment Practical thought he was going to be eaten alive, starting with his tenderest parts. But the Big Bad Wolf only wrapped his muzzle around the little pig's penis, growling and grunting as he suckled and slurped and licked and teased, up and down the tasty pink length, up to Practical's sensitive nipples, and then down, between his legs, tilting the little pig back so that the Big Bad Wolf could lash his tongue over the eldest pig's virgin tailhole, and then slowly squeeze the tip inside, stretching Practical open until he thought he would scream from the tension.
And then the long, thick wolf tongue withdrew, and Practical felt himself lifted up, his legs extending instinctively, so that he was standing over the Big Bad Wolf, looking down at the large, aggressive male's grinning face.
"Now," said the wolf in a low, suggestive voice, keeping a firm grip on Practical's hips, but not forcing him anywhere yet. "Now I want you to lower yourself onto my cock. You can pause if you need to, but don't stop until every last inch of it's inside of you. Until you can feel my balls on your butt. Got it?"
"Yessir," said Practical obediently, turning his eyes downward, unable to meet the lusty gaze of the predator who had him in that tight, strong grasp. It was for his brothers, he told himself. That was the only reason he was doing this. It had to be. The erection was just a natural reaction from . . . from having a sexy wolf manhandle him in such a dominant way, something that no other male had ever been able to do before.
Gasping at this, Practical's eyes lifted, horror on his face as he met the Big Bad Wolf's gaze, saw his knowing smile, and knew that the wolf knew, that he was being read like an open book. With a soft, despairing sob, Practical lowered himself until he felt the throbbing, thick knob of the Big Bad Wolf's cock pressing against his slick little tailhole. And then, steeling himself against the uncertain results of his actions, he pressed down until he felt something give with a soft 'pop.'
"Ooooh yeah," growled the Big Bad Wolf, his grip on Practical's hips tightening, his thick, black-furred fingers clutching that fine pink bottom firmly. "Nice and tight!"
Practical didn't say anything. He only bit his lower lip, squeezing his eyes shut as he concentrated on accomplishing his purpose - that of getting all of the Big Bad Wolf's massive shaft into his snug backside. The task was daunting, but the little pig was resolute, and as he felt the Big Bad Wolf shift and moan in pleasure beneath him, Practical kept on pushing downwards, ignoring the strange new sensations flooding through his body as he concentrated on his task, taking his time, minutes stretching onward, before quite suddenly he felt a pair of heavy black-furred balls pressing against his rounded rump.
His eyes opening, Practical got a slight smirk on his face at his accomplishment.
"I . . . I did it!" he said, smiling broadly, before he suddenly felt the Big Bad Wolf push upwards, and then grind against him. With his concentration on his task ended, Practical had no defenses against the waves of sensation, pleasure and discomfort, that crashed over him, making his body tremble and his legs go weak.
"You sure did," said the Big Bad Wolf with a fang-filled grin at the overstimulated little piggy. "And now I'm gonna do you!"
And that is exactly what the Big Bad Wolf did. Practical's whole world suddenly reeled as he was lifted up, and then plunged back down, his eyes rolling back into his head as the motion was repeated . . . and then repeated . . . and again . . . and again . . . and . . . and he lost track. It felt too good for him to focus properly. And all the while the Big Bad Wolf kept that same smug expression on his face, watching Practical gasping and squealing in his grasp (and oh, how the normally-reserved, eldest, smartest little pig did squeal and thrash and cry out in passion and pleasure at the abuse heaped upon him by the ravenous, insatiable wolf). He bounced poor Practical up and down in his lap until the eldest pig gasped, and spurted white pig's cream right into the wolf's open maw, which then wrapped around the plump pink penis and suckled noisly as Practical's ravishing continued, as his brothers watched in aroused horror, seeing their role model and most responsible brother reduced to the same level to which they themselves had descended so very easily in the very recent past: a squealing, squirming, lust-filled piggy desperate for more of the pleasures they could only get from the fat wolfcock stuffed beneath their curly pink tails.
Practical's world spun, another wave of intense pleasure washing over him, and he vaguely felt something hot and wet splashing inside of him, the lusty orgasmic howl of the Big Bad Wolf in his ears the last thing he head before he passed from the waking world . . .
. . . and awoke much later in a place that was dark and warm and filled with sounds that could have come straight out of wet dreams (if Practical ever had them, which of course he would claim that he did not). He looked around, still dazed, and gasped as he saw Fifer, held down on a low table while two smaller wolves, hardly bigger than the little pigs, but much stronger thanks to their species, licked him all over his naked body (naked, that is, except for his white sailor's hat), cleaning off the thick honey glaze that the Big Bad Wolf had used to coat him, and at the same time rimming him out and flicking their nimble pink tongues over his squirming brother's erect, dripping cock.
His gaze shifting once more, Practical saw Fiddler, also naked save for his blue hat, bouncing himself up and down in the lap of the Big Bad Wolf as the wolf leaned back in an overstuffed easychair, grinning up at the naked pigboy, letting Fiddler do all the work, save for the occasional flick of that long, achingly smooth tongue over the little pig's throbbingly erect cock.
Finally, Practical became aware of the deeply pleasurable sensations trickling up into his brain from between his legs as he lay on the third of three small beds - obviously those of the Big Bad Wolf's offspring - and looked down, only to gasp as he saw the cute face of another of the little wolves, this one with a much kinder, less mean and lusty expression than the other two (who were more like their father), sucking on the tip of his seeping cock, and then giving it a parting flick of his nimble pink tongue before grinning up at Practical.
"Hello," said the wolf cub. "I'm the Good Little Wolf. I think I talked Pop into not eating you and your brothers." He blushed a bit. "Um, I had to make a few compromises, though. But your brothers don't seem to mind." He gave Practical's cock a friendly squeeze with his small hand. "Neither do you, actually."
Practical just shook his head, a little smirk on his face as he realized that it had all worked out in the end after all. And speaking of ends . . . the Little Good Wolf lowered his red overalls (a smaller match for the ones worn by his Pop) and turned around, lifting his tail as he presented his fine black-furred tush to the well-hung pigboy.
"Welcome to the neighborhood, Practical," said the wolfboy, looking over his shoulder with a wink as Practical's work-roughened hands took a firm grip on the furry male's hips, lining himself up.
"I think we'll get along fine," said Practical, easing his hips forward, dead on target.
And they lived hornily ever after.