You should never have just 3 K...

[SmokePigDad]

This isn't really porn; well it is in a way but it's basically the building of a headfuck (the best kind of fuck!). It's not possible really to carry on this without it turning into a scene from a cheap B movie horror so there probably won't be anymore...

I need to explain something though before the start; the inspiration for this come from a health advertisement poster PigDad and me saw while driving over to a guys for a session. It said 'Ketamine + Ketamine + Ketmaine = Bladder Removal'... my obvious reply, being the chem pig I am way 'Well then you just never have only 3 K'. PigDads deviant mind set into action and over the course of that nights play it became a thing, you ever have 3 K and your bladder comes out, no question. PigDad also pointed out what a certain Uncle could do with this information... Let me know what you think and enjoy.

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The last 30 minutes of the journey had been spent in relative silence and as the car pulled up in front of the familiar house pigBoi gulped but quickly covered it with a low OINK.

Following his PigDad up the path the front door is opened by a man he knows as Uncle.

‘Go into the play room and get undressed. You’ll find a gown to wear on the side, and once on you may indulge yourself with the chemicals. Then get on the table and wait for me.’

Throwing a quick look back to PigDad he shuffles through the hall and out to the back of the house.

Things look a bit different in here. Most of the equipment has been removed or shifted; replaced by a med-bed, surrounded by glistening metal trays, some displaying various implements, with a large gas canister standing at the back.

He locates the gown and quickly gets undressed, leaving only his socks on to compensate somewhat for the lack of heavy waders.

Sliding his arms through into the holes he attempts to close the gown around his back, finding a two inch gab... typical. pigBoi grins slightly and pulls his arms back out before reversing the gown.

Looking down at his exposed meat, he smiles and moves over to the chemical table at the side. If something has to hang out it may as well be something of use; there won’t be any for his rear side today.

Through the silence of the room he can hear low level voices drifting from another part of the house. He stands for a moment trying to make sense of the mumbling but apart from the occasional laugh nothing is coherent. Probably for the best anyway.

Looking down to the counter top before him, he retrieves a well loaded glass pipe and burner. His lips curl up into a grin and a quiet oink emits from his nose as the bowl fills with thick smoke. Placing it to his lips and pulling back he holds the flame close to the bulb creating a constant stream of vapour trickling deep into his lungs.

Once he’s had his fill he replaces the glass wear and catches sight of a rebreather on a near by shelf. As the neurons fire in his brain and he reaches across with a sly smile, the sound of a door slamming from elsewhere in the house brings him back to reality. An engine starts and he hears a car pull away. PigDads gone, leaving him to the ministrations of Uncle.

Not wanting to be caught unprepared he quickly takes a blade and forms two think lines from the substantial pile on the mirror.

With the familiar burn now in each nostril he moves across the room towards the bed and gets comfortable on his back; the gown lying open. He waits.

And waits.

And waits.

Silence.

He tries to work out how long it’s been. Fifteen minutes? Twenty? The K-distortions not helping with his reckoning.

Speaking of K… he can feel it’s effects wearing off and he’s eager for more. But can he risk been caught ‘out of bed’ as it where?

He tries to be good, but the hunger grows… and grows. Sod it, he can be quick.

Moving back across the room he again arranges two lines; a little longer and thicker this time.

He snorts back the left and raises his head, preparing to go for the right.

Suddenly… ‘Tut tut pigBoi. Back on the bed.’

Fuck! He hadn’t heard the door open. He doesn’t even bother to look over, just quickly moves back to the bed and lies back down. He’s sure there will be some additional punishment later for having been caught with his hands in the biscuit tin… but he’s a pig, they shouldn’t expect any less.

Uncle moves around the room, shifting items around, preparing.

pigBoi keeps his eyes glued to the ceiling, determined that no look of fear or even nerves will appear on his face.

Uncle finally makes it to the bed and secures the pig with four straps; legs, chest, arms and head; there’s no chance he’s getting out of this.

He feels the cool rubber of a thick respirator placed over his mouth and nose but for now it just delivers air, if somewhat stale.

Uncle moves back across the room and stands with his back to pigBoi, working on something at the bench. The pig shifts his eyes to stare, but quickly flicks them back as Uncle turns and walks back to the bed carrying a tray which he places on the adjacent stand.

The pig feels a tightness form round his arm and hears the familiar click, instinctively his hand forms a fist. A moment later the coolness of an alcohol wipe on his arm follows a few taps, and then a slight prick.

Within seconds the tourniquet clicks again and a rush of warmth fills him. He coughs into the mask over his face, it’s very presence amplified by the pharma now circulating his body.

He feels his mind focusing but also something else… SHIT, this was something new, that wasn’t just crystal.

So lost in the rush he hadn’t even noticed Uncle move across the room until suddenly… ‘You’ve forgotten to finish off pigBoi’. The voice drifts from over by the chem bench, slow and deliberate.

Something fires in pigBoi’s head… he’s finding it hard to think though, the rig’s extra contents trying to hold his mind down., but he suspects he should feel… fear?

Uncle walks back across the room and reaches behind pigBoi’s head; his airways suddenly hit by a cloying, sweet smell. He feels it straight away, his mind just wants to shut down but he can resist.

‘Looks like your little extra indulgence has caused you to have three K pigBoi…’

The gas seems to get thicker and pigBoi’s eyes flicker… no… resist. With each opening he catches a vision of Uncle stood over him, face blank and emotionless.

‘We all know what happens to people who have only three… K.’

The grip of Morpheus takes him.

[SmokePigDad]

Yeah a few grammar/spelling mistakes! Why do you never see them till after you've posted?

[Party Cum Hole]

thanks.. ...

[Darksyde]

Hmmm wished that happened to me but no one dares to

[SpunSacramentoSun]

more please

[drscorpio]

1 hour ago, SpunSacramentoSun said:

more please

Moderator’s Note: The original poster’s has not been on the website since 2013.