This choice: The pig marches off, its job well done • Go Back...Chapter #17The pig marches off, its job well done by: WangJohnson   The pig, like the dog leaves you be now that they're done with you; you feel rather discarded, and sympathize with some of your many past partners whose names you don't remember, just a little.
Taking a deep breath, you stand up and verify you're alone, before taking stock of things. Okay, so you're down to... your shirt and socks. And your pigjizz-sealed dick and balls, but that's besides the point for now. First things first; you look pretty bad like this. Honestly, at a place like Cock Vore Academy it's better to just go completely naked than stay dressed like this, right? You strip off your socks and shirt in short order, and with nothing soaked in dog-jizzed draped about your flesh anymore you feel a bit less rank. Maybe with a little cleaning up, you'd feel somewhat normal again.
Now, what to do.
Julie's gone and digested in a dog's balls, your uniform's gone, your butt semi-recently raped and your manhood locked in an organic chastity cage. The Secretary's almost certain to want you dead for failing to keep her daughter safe, and with the way things are going you're looking at distressingly good odds of ending up enjoying a gooey end in someone's nuts. If you plan to properly live and learn as a predator here at this school, you're going to need to do something about your situation... and immediately your thoughts turn to Chrissy. The big, hulking and surprisingly nice tribal herm of a Vore History teacher offered not just to teach you her vorish ways, but to make you a nice meal before things went out of control. Perhaps the strong dickwoman can free you, or has a spare uniform on hand - and if not, a chance to fill your stomach with something other than dog-piss and learn a bit more about this strange and lewd community you're part of and how to properly take vorish charge wouldn't be bad in and of itself.
It's right around the time that you've convinced yourself that Chrissy's your hope at salvation, when you hear distinctly feminine moans and gasps as well as a horse's knicker and meatily wet impacts.
You look around, zeroing in on the small stables nearby, just on the far side of the fenced field you're in; just what could be going on in there?
Feeling like you're on a bit of a defeatist streak right now and hearing the stable's noises only get more raunchy... | Members who added to this interactive story also contributed to these: |
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