[center][b]Pig Pee Prize[/b][/center] [center]By Kaydrien Iceclaw[/center] “Is it time?” Marvin’s grin was salacious, all the more for being spread out over his long crocodilian snoot. Ron, whose squirming prompted the question, shook his head. Glare and wince mixed on his porcine face as he shifted his weight, thighs rubbing against each other on the couch. “No! I’m going to make it…” Both men glanced at the wall clock, a rectangular digital display that ticked along with the inaudible tick of electrons trickling through quartz and seconds counting up on the display. 11:40:23 Marvin’s grin turned back upon the uncomfortable pig where he sat on the couch. “You’re not gonna make it.” “Shut up.” The boar’s cheeks colored. “I’ll make it.” The caiman, sprawled on his front in the shag carpet in front of the TV, drew the tip of his tongue all the way along the thin ridge of scales that he had the audacity to call an upper lip. “No way. You started looking [i]awful[/i] uncomfy almost an hour ago. Didn’t think you’d make it this far, but you’re losing this bet.” “I only got twenty-“ He glanced up. “Nineteen more minutes. I can do it.” “You’re full of it. Full of porky yellow gold.” “Shut.” The pig winced, pink-skinned face scrunching toward his snoot. He [i]was[/i] full of it, his bladder stretched and distressed by a nearly- oh so close almost, just 17 minutes to go- full day’s worth of kidney-juice. He still clung to hope that he could hold it in just a little longer, just until noon when he could dash to the bathroom and- “I’m not indulging your weird kink.” The long-faced crocodilian rolled languorously onto his side, setting his smartphone aside and totally at ease as he surveyed the other male. “Hell naw. You’re gonna lose. Better just give up now and you’ll only have to pay up once.” Ron’s teeth gritted, fingers balled into fists. “No!” “Wouldn’t it feel good to just let go? Relax and [i]let it out[/i]-“ “Quiet!” Ron nearly squealed, flinching as even that movement made self-control more difficult. “You’re cheating.” “Nah. You trash-talked about winning my ass plenty last night, fair’s fair. And now you’re gonna lose soooooo close to the finish line…” The fear that Marvin was right spiked in his chest, porcine heart jumping to avoid its sharp point. “No…” “You’ve bet a lot of stuff on a lot of things against the chance to top me over the years. And you’ve never once won.” Raising himself to his hands and knees the caiman crawled over toward the pig. He nudged his jaw against Ron’s right knee before sitting up on his own, casually pulling off his shirt to throw it aside, not looking the least bit less than in total control despite that position. “It’s just gonna be one more loss and one more thing you’ve gotta do. One more embarrassing, humiliating, [i]delicious[/i] thing you do, for me. Make it easy on yourself and slide off those pants before you earn yourself a penalty.” “Nnng…” Ron’s eyes flicked up at the wall. 11:45:01 “Lakes. Rivers. Waterfalls.” Marvin said in a sing-song, rubbing at the crotch of his jeans. Watching Ron sweat was sexy and he was hard. “No… please…” “Whole oceans of salty water. Rain and rushing and pipes.” “Fuck!” The other man’s self-control snapped and he shuddered, finally accepting that he wouldn’t quite make it to the twenty-four hour mark, wouldn’t win his chance to fuck that smug, slick, dominant reptile just once for a change instead of being on the bottom again (and being made to [i]love it[/i], dammitall). It was time for damage control, before his bladder burst or… He tried to stand, but it sent a spasm through his crotch that made him cry out. “Fucking just get over here.” “You can’t even get to the restroom.” Marvin laughed, a rough croak that could have come from a bird or frog. His hands rested themselves on Ron’s knees as the boars hands darted to his waistband, fumbling for the button and zipper. “Guess you’ll just have to make a mess right here and- Oooh, there we are.” The fastenings on Ron’s pants didn’t yield in time. A dark spot appeared and spread on the crotch of those tan slacks before Marvin’s eyes. Wasting no time the crocodilian took over, shoving Ron’s hands aside and opening up his clothes with distressing speed. For just an instant before he yanked down the white-turning-yellow briefs the stream jetted through them, making it an inch or so out before gravity took over despite the fabric in the way, and then that barrier was gone and it shot out to catch Marvin on the shallow chin. Calm and triumphant, he rose up to let it splatter over his toned chest, running down in a cascade over the scutes, while the pig now pissing on him- and the carpeted floor, and the edge of the couch, whenever the stream weakened a fraction as he tried in vain to shut it down- moaned in a despairing tone. There was no doubt who was on top in this situation, despite their positions, despite the warm liquid flowing down over Marvin’s abs and down to soak his own tented crotch. “There we go… not so bad, is it?” Marvin undid his own pants, but didn’t bother to remove his boxers, just shoving his hand inside to stroke himself under the damp fabric. He used his other hand to press up the pig’s short sheath and direct the stream still pouring out of it onto his face with glee. “Look at you, pissing all that out. Couldn’t quite make it a full day, could you?” A groan. Despair. And to make it worse- better for the ever-so-slightly-sadistic caiman- mixed with the dumb primordial relief of finally being able to piss, bladder decreasing in fullness but not fast enough but [i]decreasing[/i] from the point of painful overstretch. “Better get used to it. Pissed yourself before pissing me, which means you get the penalty too.” “I gave up!” “Doesn’t matter. Your pants got wet before I did.” With a shit-eating smile to the tune of twelve inches of scaled snoot Marvin opened his mouth to turn it into a piss-drinking grin instead, let his friend/rival/grudging fucktoy’s stream into his mouth to taste the salty goodness. He delicately closed the front of his mouth over the spouting sheath, front teeth teasing that bare flesh, his lack of cheeks allowing half or more of the liquid to flow out of his mouth and down his neck. He sat like that happy as a clam, hand in his pants while he enjoyed the hog’s humiliation and defeat as it ran over his tongue and teeth and throat. When it was finally over he pulled away, gulping down the last trickle with overacted relish. And then he yanked the chubby pig back by the hips, pulling the pork butt to the edge of the couch and Ron’s pants off altogether. “Hell, that was hot. Hope you don’t mind if I use your ass, since you got me all hard.” “Shit.” Ron mumbled, spine bent against the meeting point of the damp sofa cushion (wet spots now pressing into his lower back) and the back propping up his head (so he could oh-so-conveniently watch the insufferable and insufferably sexy reptile adjusting his position in front of him). “Fuck it. Do what you want.” “You love it.” Marvin spat into his hand, rubbed the saliva roughly over his funky flesh-monster/alien-turtle-head looking croc cock. Without ceremony he pressed the fat head of that strangely-shaped manhood against Ron’s piggy asshole and shoved it inside. The hog grunted and the sharp yank on his sphincter- a handful of spit wasn’t really enough lube. And gritted his teeth again as a little extra burn added itself, the traces of his own urine that had made it onto Marvin’s maleness making their salt content known to his abruptly stretched ring. His tailhole adapted quick enough, no stranger to being roughly filled. The horny caiman was rarely gentle and took him hard, humping in and out, and battering Ron’s P-spot with practiced familiar brutality. He was hard in moments. Marvin, though he grinned down meaningfully at the pig, rarely bothered anymore to tease him about getting erect so fast from being assfucked. They both knew it. Ron’s reddening face and halfhearted stifling of his moan was enough. The scaly, dominant male had a head start, but that couldn’t have stopped him from making Ron cum first if he had wanted. Instead, he kept going just long enough to make the flustered porker’s twisty pizzle start twitching suggestively before let himself slip past the point of no return, croaking a triumphant mating call and pumping his load into the humiliated male he’d just conquered. It was fun, after all, to leave Ron pent up and on edge. It made him so much easier to lure into the next bet he’d inevitably lose, easier to goad into begging. And Marvin loved making him beg. The sharp sigh Ron made instead of begging him to get back in his ass was, if anything, even better because they both knew the pig wanted to. Marvin’s cockhead pulled out of Ron’s ass sloppily, adding a generous dollop of caiman cum to the soaked spot on the carpet. He slapped the boar’s hip happily, leaning down to give a peck of a kiss that was accepted angrily and hungrily. “Better get used to pissing for me, piggy bitch. You’ll do it when I want, how I want, where I want for the next week.” “Fuck you.” “If you ever actually win one.” The cock hanging out of his slit swung like a limp alien lifeform as he walked toward the bathroom (and more importantly the shower). “Let’s get burgers in a bit. Don’t bother trying to clean the carpet first, you’re getting an extra large soda while we’re out.” [center]The End[/center]