Date: Thu, 25 Jul 2019 06:20:10 +0900
From: Stu Hadley <stuhadley77@gmail.com>
Subject: First Hand School Chapter 16

Day 31. Public auction

Themes include cock worship, fucking, fisting, bondage, rubber, public sex,
leather and domination. Average reading time: 30 minutes.

If you've enjoyed reading this - or any story in the Nifty archive - please
consider making a donation to keep this invaluable resource going. Any and
every contribution is welcome. Thank you.

------

So, here it is. My final diary entry whilst I'm still a pupil of the First
Hand School. Later this evening I'll be free... except I'll never really be
free - this place has exceptionally long coat-tails. I guess I should have
known that when I signed up in the first place. All that talk of `training
for a new future' and being `prepared for whatever life throws at you'.
Obvious, in retrospect.

Part of me wants to be pissed but most of me knows that I'd be fucked
without the School right now. Yes, they've made me into a monster. And yes,
I should absolutely hate on them for what they've done to me... except I
can't. I like being a cunt! And if it weren't for the School right now then
I would have no idea where to get the fist action my manpuss so desperately
needs to survive.

Right now I'm literally counting down the minutes until I get to find out
who won me at auction. Oh yeah, I got to find out just how that crazy
fucking thing worked. It was even more screwed up than I imagined.

I was pretty beaten up when I first found out. After all, I was reading to
camera at the time - recording thank you messages to everyone who helped
`transform' my body. Being handed a note and told to say `don't forget to
tune in on Friday and watch the live stream of my sale by auction' was
pretty hardcore. My mind was still reeling from seeing the complete and
total corruption of my body: I've literally been made into a walking
billboard for pig sex. Not an inch of my skin has been left untouched, even
the lips of my cunt have been tattooed. I felt wrecked - any last vestige
of innocence and pureness wrenched away from me.

(I've got to say though... now I've become accustomed to the way I look? I
get why they did it. I hate them for it, but I keep catching glimpses of
myself in the mirror and thinking wow... I mean I can't believe it's actually
me... but then I catch myself and ask would I fist that cunt? Each and every
time I have to say yes, yes I would. I look like filth, but just the kind
of filth that has no limits and whose hole is never going to run out or
tire. It's fucked up, but hot AF.)

Anyway, my look certainly seemed to go down well at the auction and I know
just how happy the School has been with how much money they've made selling
my cunt. Apparently that's how it works, that's how the School gets their
investment back. All those custom toys, machinery, full gokkun jars and
medical procedures... they've got be paid for somehow and selling off the
best stock is how they do it.

Of course, they only auction off the guys they think will command the
highest prices. The also-rans, whilst still being valuable, are simply sold
online so I guess I should consider myself lucky. For each auction there
are multiple lots for the same guy, maximising just how much money the
School can make. In fact, the bidding gets so high that most people bid to
win in groups. It's the only way they can afford it.

The cheapest lots are the one-day rentals, basically twenty-four hours to
do whatever you want to my hole. These lots aren't guaranteed though - if
I'm in recovery or back at the School for enhancement or modification then
the bidder might lose their money completely. It doesn't happen all that
often but it's still a risk. However, apparently plenty of people are happy
gambling their money. It's the cheapest way of getting hold of a
high-roller cunt for a night. Frat school parties, stag nights, a special
treat for a boyfriend...

The next level up are the guaranteed lots. Basically my cunt for a set
period of time regardless of the condition I'm in. Though if it's a really
good bid then the School will do all they can to make sure I'm serviceable
- that means I need to be fully aware of my surroundings (and who I'm
playing with) and no bruises or obvious marks on my body apart from my
tattoos. Obviously my pussy will be in its usually open resting gape state,
but not so slack that I won't have at least a modicum of clutch. Of course,
how I get returned is totally up to the bidder - this kind of guaranteed
`golden ticket' comes with a lot of freedom.

Marcus said that this was the kind of lot guys like my high-school
basketball team and coach would bid for. He'd heard they really wanted a
chance to use me hard and had pooled all their money and resources
together. The last thing I wanted in the world was to see my old team -
especially in my new condition - but apparently them winning at least one
of the lots was a dead cert. People who knew me get a discount on their
bids, and the team had only one degree of separation so would get the
maximum discount possible. Fuck, their money could go a long, long way...

However, it was unlikely that it would stretch as far as one of the
longer-term secondments. Marcus told me the price of some of the reserves
and they are fucking staggering! The length of time available is fucking
staggering too. Not just a couple of weeks, but months or years. I've had
real trouble imagining it.

He wouldn't tell me much more about the event than that... Just that it would
start with a stage show to get the crowd as excited as possible.

And so that's all I knew when Marcus took me away this morning to get
ready. I was obviously douched and cleaned out, but apart from that I
wasn't allowed to wear anything except a black jock with a double red
stripe up the middle. He said that as much of my defiled flesh had to be on
display as possible. Christ, I was even lead along the corridors of the
School butt naked. I could see some of the tutors and the old hand students
looking at me with a state of lust and desire... the less experienced
students wore pure panic and fear though. Me? I just felt that this is it,
this is what to expect from the rest of life, so just get on with it.

I was expecting to be taken to the auditorium where it had all started,
where I had been chosen to be the School's pussyboicunt, but no, we swerved
off and went deep underground to a place I'd never been to before. I could
kind of tell that we were directly underneath a stage though - there were
lots of heavy duty supports and machinery. It was dark and there even
looked to be a trapdoor directly above me.

Marcus grabbed some gear from a bag he'd been carrying and told me to stand
still. By this time I was pretty compliant - there was no point arguing and
to be honest I was pretty curious about what was going to come next. I was,
by the definition of my body, a bit of a show-boy and I felt ready to be on
display. Though walking down the corridors naked was nothing compared to
what was about to happen...

First, Marcus put a wrist to thigh restraint on both of my legs. High up my
thighs, the thick restraints were made out of semi-transparent rubber so
everyone can still see the filthy tattoos underneath. Each restraint was
buckled tight to my thigh, and then each of my wrists restrained in place
too. I could still walk around and move, but I was pretty immobilised all
the same.

Next, Marcus put a giant ball gag in my mouth. This freaked me out a little
as it reminded me of my humiliating inking with Blue, except this ball gag
was far more hardcore. The straps went around the back of my head, under my
chin, around my mouth and then across the top of my head. It really made
the gag totally secure and impossible for me to remove or spit out.

Finally, a thick rubber cuff was applied to each of my thighs. Just what
the fuck was the School planning? By now I couldn't protest, I could barely
even struggle.

Marcus took a firm grab of my body with one hand - maybe he was expecting
me to run? - and then with his other pressed a button on a toggle switch
unit hanging from the ceiling. All of a sudden a panel in the floor opened
and a thick, metal column smoothly ascended a couple of feet from the
bowels of the room. I almost freaked out. On top of the tower was a fucking
gigantic dildo... I mean fucking monumental. By this time I was no stranger
to big dick - or big dildos - but this was ridiculous.

At first glance an amateur might have thought that it actually looked
pretty gentle. Those looks were dangerously deceptive though. The toy had a
wedge shaped head before progressively widening to epic proportions.
Something like 6 or 7 inches thick where it met the base. Surely there was
no way they could expect me to take that?! Especially without a warm up!

They obviously did though. The fat dildo had already been pre-lubed and
Marcus instructed me to sit back on it, in fact he guided my body onto it.
In seconds I could feel the firm silicon pressing at the entrance to my
hole. Given that my pussy had been trained to be receptive at all times
there was no way the cuntstretcher wasn't going in. I literally had no
resistance left, even for something this gigantic. The only real question
was how much I could take.

Not far I felt... The material was really unforgiving and, even though Marcus
pushed my body down onto the toy, I bottomed out pretty quick and the
stretch became real uncomfortable, real quick. Maybe I was about halfway
down? Things were about to get even worse though as Marcus hit the control
panel once more and the dildo column started rising further out of the
floor!

Fuck! It was brutal. Whereas I had just been squatting with most of my
weight on the soles of my feet, now I was up high and precariously
balancing on the tips of my toes! Marcus said that it was called a tower of
power, and it was designed to show off my true potential to maximum effect.

If I had been able to speak I would have said that there was no way I could
hold this position for long. My toes were threatening to give out at any
moment and I wasn't even on the stage yet. If my feet did give way my
entire body weight would be resting on the toy inside of me. There was no
telling how far I would sink down and how big my pussy would be stretched.

Seconds later I realised just how devious the whole thing was. Marcus
attached two tiny little supports - metal bars that can only have been
three inches long and an inch wide at most - just above my feet. He
manoeuvred my toes onto each bar (which didn't exactly help that much) and
then used a carabiner to secure each of my leg restraints to the metal
column.

Marcus took one last look at me, gave each of my restraints a shake to make
sure I wasn't going anywhere, nodded and then with a big grin hit another
button on the control panel. There was a mechanical noise above me and I
was basked in light. A circular trapdoor had opened and suddenly the entire
tower, with me impaled on it, was raising upwards. I briefly struggled in
shock but I soon stopped moving as my balance was appalling. I was in
danger of doing the School's work for them and impaling myself even further
on the evil dildo.

That wasn't my biggest concern though. I had been lifted up into the middle
of a fucking cocktail party! I felt a rush of anticipation as the room
quietened in delight... the stock had arrived and was ready to be inspected.

And that's exactly what happened. Men of all types fondled, manhandled and
groped me. Some guys were by themselves, others in large groups. Some in
fetish wear, others in suits and ties, others in plaid and jeans. Every
physical type and class of man was represented. Even worse were the guys I
recognised. Marcus hadn't lied in saying that they'd be people from my high
school in the crowd. I was deeply glad that I was gagged and couldn't talk
or participate in their conversations around me. Most were speculating just
how big my cunt was and whether I truly lived up to the obscene promos the
School had sent round. Others commented on how fucked up my body was,
especially given how lean and tight my muscles were. The phrase `prime
fisting stock' kept on coming up.

Before long the looks became more hands-on. Literally. Hands roamed over my
body, touching my flesh and tweaking my hard nipples. That wasn't as bad as
the painful probing of my cunt though.

Even given the mammoth stretching journey I've been on over the last month,
I felt painfully impaled on the toy inside of me. It meant my cunt lips
were blanched at the pressure of my body and there honestly wasn't much to
prod or explore. A group of bears decided to take matters into their own
hands - I felt an arm under each shoulder from behind and I was lifted up
off the toy!

My leg restraints stopped me after a few inches - the relief on my cunt and
toes couldn't be measured - but my restraints had stopped me a long way
short of being completely lifted off the dildo. All of a sudden the joy at
the removal of pressure from my pussy was replaced by the feeling of a set
of thick fingers manhandling my cuntlips. Fuck, they're trying to slip
fingers in between the dildo and my cunt! I couldn't believe how full I
felt - the thick fingers were reaming around the edges... and then grabbing a
handful of my cunt flesh and squeezing it hard. It was fucking intense and
really humiliating.

After a while there seemed to be a general murmur of approval and there was
a signal to release me. The fuckers dropped me like a brick and I was
impaled further on the toy than I could possible believe! At least my feet
had a little bit more balance but that could only mean my hole was
stretched to a record width. The fuckers must have seen the pain and
surprise on my face, but that just meant they decided to lift me again up
and bounce me on the toy. They were fucking pile-driving my cunt!

The feeling was so intense that my mind completely zoned out for a moment.
In fact, I distracted myself by thinking about the session I had had with
Carl the night before.

It was a pleasurable memory, but I couldn't deny that I had started out the
night deeply conflicted. There was no doubting Carl's significance to my
life. He had taken both of my cherries, and I had loved being fisted by him
more than anyone else. And yet he was also responsible for the gaping
trench between my legs, and for my body being so completely fucked up. I
didn't know whether to love or hate him.

We were both in our leathers, except this time the difference between us
was palpable. He looked as man as ever - tall, dark, confident, masculine.
I no longer looked like the inexperienced kid though, anything but. In fact
I looked mean and nasty, as if I had been around the block and seen the
world. It was pretty sick and the energy between us crackled. Was this the
end? Would I ever see the man I hated to love again?

We stood at opposite ends of the room eyeing each other up with cold
desire. I broke the silence. "I suppose this is it?"

"What makes you say that?" replied Carl. "This is just the beginning!
You're a man who's going to be in high demand. You've got skills and a hole
that no-one can beat."

I dismissed his answer. What skills do I possible have? Carl was quick to
put me right.

"A supersized cunt and and an unquenchable hunger for fist. That's a
commodity that can always be traded... It can always bring you what you want
and need. Don't ever forget that Bobby."

"I guess... but it's an end to you and me though? The end of our training and
time together?"

Carl finally twigged what I had been meaning and why I had been looking so
despondent. My heart was torn. I didn't want to leave the safety of Carl
and make my own way in the world. Whatever my `skills' (hell, because of my
skills!) I knew life on the outside was going to be tough. Especially
without Carl.

"You needn't worry about that Bobby! We're not done yet, not by a long way!
You may be auctioned tomorrow, but that doesn't mean you won't be coming
back to the School for top-ups. You're one of our prize assets and we're
always going to want to make sure you're in tip-top shape... and to try out
any new training procedures on your hyper-advanced cunt. You're going to be
a bit of test-bed for us... but know that every time you come back you'll get
to spend some time with me. Hell, I'm going to want to see how your hole is
progressing on the outside without me! Whatever happens to your cunt, I
want you to make me proud!"

His words were enough to make our session one of our most complex yet.
Romantic but also surprisingly brutal. There were a tenderness to each of
Carl's actions, yet also a total lack of mercy. It was one of the dynamics
of fisting I had come to love the most. That someone could be so savagely
punching your cunt, and yet doing it with such love and passion that you
felt cared for above anything else.

We were in our usual position - me lying back in the sling and Carl making
the most of my ass proudly presented to him. For all the talk of me coming
back, it definitely felt as if this evening he wanted to get his money's
worth from my cunt - as if he wanted to remember this session as much as I
did.

It was a night where Carl kept on focusing on the out-punch. It didn't
matter how hard he forced his way in, he seemed determined that coming out
would be harder, bigger and faster. He kept wrenching his fists out of my
cunt as hard (and as big) as he could all whilst encouraging me to
simultaneously push his clenched fists out hard into the open from the
depths of my pussy. Over and over again...

I had of course become used to pushing back and showing my rosebud to Carl
or whoever I was playing with, but this felt entirely different. More
focused, more intense, more dangerous.

All of a sudden the sensations in my hole changed completely and I heard
Carl say `hold it there you big, beautiful, bastard... hold it!' I couldn't
work out was happening, other than continuing the need to push down. My
hole felt alive in ways that I couldn't explain, somehow I could feel
Carl's hands holding me rather than being inside of me... I looked over into
the nearest mirror to see exactly what was happening and I was fucking
amazed! My hole had prolapsed a couple of inches and Carl was massaging and
working the red fleshy mass in his fingers.

He seemed just as in awe of it as I was. It felt amazing and was stunning
to behold. I knew that gaining a prolapse was an inevitable evolution of my
fisting journey, but I definitely hadn't been expecting it. Not today, not
tonight, not in my last session with Carl.

It was an unbelievably horny moment. Carl kept on murmuring how amazing it
looked and felt, and just how proud he was of my pussy development. Soon he
was using my fleshy mass as a sleeve for his rock hard cock. Both the sight
and feeling of this leather-bound hunk using me as his wank sleeve was too
much for the both of us. I could feel my hole spasming with desire as he
shot his load inside my flesh. I don't think I've ever been so proud or
turned on by being a cunt.

I was bought crushingly back to reality by a particularly brutal slam of my
body being forced down the tower of power. I must have been thrust inches
further down the dildo, and with such force that I felt the wind being
knocked out of me. At the start it had almost been impossible to balance my
feet on the tiny stirrups. Now I had been pushed so far down the toy that
my knees were bent and I had room to spare. Fuck!

It was a huge relief when Marcus finally came up and told the thugs
brutalising my hole to step back as it was time for the show to begin.
Wait, this wasn't the show? Just how much more of this was I going to have
to put up with?!

"Okay, let's get this started!" From my epically stretched position I could
hear Carl's voice ringing out across the room. He - and some of the other
attendants from the School - started chivvying people to their seats. I
slowly realised that I was on a round stage, with tables and chairs
positioned around the edges, almost as if I was at some crazy corporate
function. The hard liquor, smoking and men in different states of undress
soon displaced that thought though.

I heard a noise above me and looked up to see four giant LCD screens -
arranged in a square - descend from the ceiling. They stopped a good couple
metres above my head and even though they were far away I could tell they
were displaying the lots people could bid for. I couldn't read any of the
details - maybe just the odd word or two. Perhaps that was a good thing
though, I already felt as if I was in some mad boxing ring and my hole was
beaten up! Moments later two of the screens switched to a video picture of
me on the stage. Fuck! I had forgotten that this was being live streamed
over the internet.

Seconds later Carl joined me on stage, once more playing the role of
ringmaster. The last time had been my selection as the School's
pussyboicunt. Somehow I felt it was inevitable that he would be here at my
graduation.

Once more he was dressed in leather, except this time in his chaps and
sleeveless leather t-shirt with red piping. I felt myself clench a little
(how hard was that with this giant toy shoved so far up my butt!) as I
caught a glimpse of him and his thick dick on display to the room. Clearly
he had no problem with public nudity, maybe it was even turning him on as
he was clearly firming up.

"Welcome to this month's First Hand School auction! On the block today is
our freshest meat: young Bobby Kunt." Carl was interrupted by a cheer and
applause from the room, clearly my reputation - and the hands-on inspection
- had created a big buzz. The room felt feverish with excitement.

"I can of course assure you that there is nothing fresh about Bobby's body
or his hole. As you've seen he's been trained to be the perfect pigcunt.
The stamina and fitness of youth, combined with the depth and experience of
a true pig slut. And there's no denying he's hung too... hung like a fucking
doughnut!"

The room erupted in cheers and laughter again. I was powerless to do
anything other than just sit back (painfully) and bask in the attention.
There was no point being shocked or embarrassed. This was my life from now
on and even though I didn't know what was going to come next, I was pretty
excited by it all.

Carl started talking about the depths and characteristics of my hole. The
video screens flashed and close-ups of my cunt or montages of my training
played. Carl was talking about my pussy development in excruciating detail.
Saying that my gape was permanent and that I was always going to be ready
for sex. That my hole was willing and insatiable... that I would never turn
down a fist or dick (even if only the biggest dicks would be able to touch
the sides).

Soon he started getting on to the detail of the auction. That there would
be three shows, and that each `scene' would run on consecutively from each
other. I guess it made sense to show how much work I could take without a
break? Each scene was designed to highlight a different aspect of my
potential future use... this was going to be quite something.

Before it started Carl told the audience an important detail. The
individuals and groups could bid at any time they wanted, and for as many
lots as they wanted... however, the value of each Pound, Dollar or Euro
decreased as the auction progressed. It was designed to get people to bid
early and to bid often. Basically, a dollar was worth a full dollar at the
beginning, however, halfway through the auction a dollar was only worth 75
cents. Meaning you had to spend $1.25 to bid a single dollar. It was a
clever gambit to get people to bid throughout the auction, rather than just
a frenzy at the end. Of course, it also got the price as high as possible.

>From that moment on I lost all track of the concept of an auction or lots.
I certainly had no time or attention for the screens above me. I was just
focused on what was happening to my hole. My only distraction was knowing
that whenever the action on stage was particularly aggressive it felt as if
there was a frenzy of bidding.

Jay and Marcus came on to the stage and gently lifted me off the tower of
power. Once I was free (the relief!) it silently withdrew into the floor. I
was slowly able to get the circulation back in my legs and stand unaided.

Marcus undid my restraints and removed the ball gag, leaving me just in my
double red stripe jock. A month ago I would have felt naked in front of all
of these guys, but somehow I felt anything but. It was as if my layer of
ink acted as a suit of armour: I was invincible and ready for anything.

Meanwhile, Jay had bought a mobile sling onto the stage. I turned around
and realised I had been left alone - just me and the sling. Carl stepped on
to the stage and walked towards me. I was there, ready for him. He paused,
and imperceptibly nodded. The briefest glance to me felt like he was
telegraphing that everything was going to be okay. That I could use a
little bit of his power to get through the event. The nod must also have
been a signal to someone else, as all of a sudden the round stage started
rotating slowly. I guess it gave everyone the best possible view!

The room was electric waiting for what was next. Carl motioned for the room
to be completely silent and then slowly announced to the crowd...

"Everyone needs a pig in their life, but sometimes you need a pig with a
heart. Sometimes you need a passionate and caring hole, a cunt for a
special occasion. When you need to satisfy both aspects of your mind: the
need to wreck and the need to love..."

Fuck! I think a little piece of my heart burst! Before the words had even
finished Carl's mouth was locked on mine. He was my kryptonite and the
passion was intense. No matter how hard the men in the room wanted to see
me being used, I could sense that just as many wanted to see what else they
could have too. They wanted that tenderness, that passion, that connection...

As our hands roamed over each other's bodies and our tongues swapped
saliva, I could feel that I was slowly being directed to the sling... I lay
back and one of Carl's fists seamlessly found my hole. Fuck was I slack
after that toy! It made the use of my cunt look absolutely effortless -
Carl exploring wide and deep as if I had no boundaries. It was fisting as
pure pleasure, gentle but explorative, supremely intense. The double, the
bicep, all of it was possible...

Eventually Carl withdrew and looked deep into my eyes. It was a look that
said everything. Care. Passion. Lust. Thanks.

He looked up to the room. "There you go... Bobby Kunt, the cunt for every
special occasion!" It made me notice the crowd for the first time in ages.
They were hollering and chanting `more, more, more!' They certainly weren't
to be disappointed.

Carl, his hands and fists still covered in lube and ass juices from my
hole, continued. "Of course, there are other types of special occasions.
The times when you simply need a bottomless utility cunt that's never going
to tire..."

As he spoke I was being helped out of the sling by Marcus. The sling was
removed and Jay bought a square, padded platform onto the stage. Blissed
out as I was from Carl's ffuck, I didn't need any direction. Platform or
bed? All fours, present position, ready for action!

What came next turned into the biggest punch-fest I had ever experienced in
my life. It started off with Jay laying into my gaping hole as if there was
no tomorrow. Soon, anyone in the audience were allowed on stage to lay 25
punches into my cunt. It was a barrage, an avalanche of fist. God knows
what state my hole was in.

Soon I was going to find out. The climax of this scene was big Sig - the
professional ex-boxer and master puncher - being bought onto the stage. His
skin was as black as ever and covered by a thick rubber catsuit again. It
was a welcome influx of fetish. Last time he has fisted me whilst I was
wearing a harness so he had something to hold on to. This time he knew that
I would never shy away from his fists, no matter how intense the punch.

Wow, did he lay into me. It was merciless. Soon it became even more
intense, as he changed his technique to concentrate on yanking his fists
with as much destructive force as possible out of my hole. God, he was
trying to turn me inside out! It didn't take long before the inevitable
happened and I prolapsed again - the punching build up had been so thorough
that it was definitely bigger than the evening before. It was crazy and the
audience went wild. I couldn't imagine a better display of my capabilities
than this.

"And there you have it gents! See just how hard you can use this pig!" Carl
announced to wild applause. I could tell that they weren't just applauding
themselves (so many arms now covered in lube) but also my training and just
how capable my cunt had become. It was a true tour de force.

Despite all of that, the final scene was still a fucking surprise. For all
that I've been through, all that I have experienced, there's always more to
come.

The platform was removed and a thin mattress placed on the floor. I was
instructed to get on my back and hold my legs in the air. I had no idea
what to expect and Carl's announcement was just as cryptic.

"And now we're on to the final scene. Keep your bids coming as nothing is
going to surpass this... You've seen him as romantic pig, you've seen him as
hard pig, now let's see him as the fucked out kinky pig he truly is!"

To my amazement Marcus came on to the stage. Surely he wasn't the one to
finish off the show? He was wearing long leather basketball style shorts
and a leather vest, and I've got to say he looked rather hot. He'd always
been hiding a twunk body under his regular clothes, and now it was there
for everyone to see. His treasure trail, thick thighs, bubble butt and well
proportioned body...

He was standing above me and looked me in the eye. "Ready pig?" he asked.
"This is going to be something else! Don't worry though, this little
`trick' is why I got hired by the School. The doctor said he'd never seen
someone younger do this before, and certainly no-one who had ever had so
much practice on their younger brother..."

At this twunk I had no fucking idea what he meant... and then it happened. He
dipped one of his feet in a bath of lube and started sliding his foot into
the open gash that was my cunt. Fucking hell! I was about to be foot
fucked! Despite the stretching and all of the punching, this was truly next
level. I had never noticed how big Marcus's feet were - why would I? - but
he had been hiding the feet of a giant. Motherfucker!

His toes and the top of his foot slid in relatively easy, but getting past
his ankle? Dear christ I thought I was going to burst. The crowd chanting
`wreck him, wreck him!' didn't help. Marcus kept his steely eye on me, I
could feel him willing me to do it, to get past his ankle... I looked down at
my chest, at the ink and tats that covered my body. I saw the fist pig
across my pecs... I had never expected it would come to this, but I saw the
pig and thought to myself `yes, I can do this, I can be the cunt I need to
be!'

My god, the endorphin rush as Marcus's whole foot slid inside of me. Wow!
The crowd went wild. Cheering and constantly placing bids on their lots.
Marcus started moving his foot in and out, the most intense feeling and
stretch I'd ever experienced. Nothing could describe it.

All of a sudden a countdown timer started played in the background. Carl
was urging people to submit their final bids and the energy in the room was
fever pitch. Marcus was foot fucking me all the time, but thankfully in all
the background noise no-one noticed him smiling at me and telling me just
how proud he was of my hole. Just how well I had done...

And I did feel proud, I really did feel as if I had come full circle. I
could never have imagined any of this, but it feel as natural as breathing.
I wanted more.

All of a sudden there was a loud bong. That was it, bidding was over. My
stage show came gently to a close. I had no idea who had won - or in fact
what had won - though I did see a bunch of rough bears, all with big arms
and gnarly fists, looking super pleased with themselves.

Marcus's foot gently left my hole, and left me with a deep hunger to
experience that particularly fetish again as soon as possible. He and Jay
then took me to a clean-up room.

And that's where I am now. Waiting to find out who won and what comes next.
My hole is sore and tender, but equally it can't wait to be used next. I've
been told that I need to be prepared for anything, but to be honest I have
so few possessions that there's very little for me to prepare with. I've
had a hot shower, and I've packed my leathers in a simple bag. The School
has given me a set of giant, heavy metal stretching plugs as a going away
gift, but other than that it's just me. I'm dressed in a pair of a simple
black sweats, ready for whatever.

Should I keep up with my diary whilst I'm gone? It's become something of a
friend to me. I reckon I will. Too hot not too, and who knows, maybe one
day it might be an inspiration to some unsuspecting boy who needs to be
turned into a man... and the standard text in how to truly corrupt a cunt.

***

So that's it! Carl has just come in to say goodbye and tell me what my
first assignment is. So good to hug him one last time, but so good that I'm
going to see him again.

It's going to be a long time off though. It turns out I've been sold as the
live-in cunt to a bunch of oil rig workers. They were the group of bears I
saw at the end of the auction: I'm going to be stranded in the middle of
the ocean with 140 sex-crazed men with no chance of escape.

Apparently they've worn out all the female whores they've ever taken on
board - they just don't last the course, even when there's a team of them.
So that's why they want a real pigcunt to do the job. Said that they need
someone with stamina. Most of the bears onboard are straight but I'll be
the only pussy on board. To them it's not gay if the man has a cunt.

Carl said that I should expect to be used virtually non-stop. Out there in
the ocean stress relief and entertainment is massively important. The oil
rig owner - who put up a huge amount of money to book me solid for three
months - knows that the best way of stopping aggression and fist fights is
for the men to have a cunt to punch. Use up some of that surplus
testosterone and energy...

It all sounds perfect to me! Carl hugged me and said to make him proud. And
that if my prolapse wasn't 9 inches long when I came back they'd be hell to
pay! Here I go!

The End.

------
Thanks to everyone who has emailed (stuhadley77@gmail.com) as this story
has developed, it's been great fun reading and responding to your comments
and suggestions. Even better knowing that it's got you going and you've
made it all the way to the end!

I hope to post new stories soon, but in the meantime please search `Stu
Hadley' for more on Nifty: