Date: Mon, 5 Jul 2021 22:54:28 +0200
From: "Piggysleaze@mail.com" <piggysleaze@mail.com>
Subject: Marco's Pig Iron Gym - 1 (scat)

Disclaimer: This is a story EXTREME SCAT (i.e., shit, puke, piss) and
other depravities. Do not read if younger than 18. This is entirely
fantasy and does not represent any real people.
I travel most days out of the year, heading to cities around the globe to
broker deals that make me enormously rich and my clients even richer. But
that's not why I love my job. I love my job because it lets me be an
anonymous pig, wallowing in the seediest, sleeziest, most depraved
corners of the world. When my work is done, I strip out of my $1,000
suits and my real vocation begins -- a life dedicated to cock, piss, ass,
cum, and everything else a man's body can produce. I love it all and the
more extreme, the happier I am.
This week I was in one of those Rust Belt deindustrialized wastelands of
a city. As soon as the ink was dry on the latest multimillion dollar
contract, I got changed into my "real" uniform --trusty brown workboots
covered in years' worth of man fluids, sweatpants, and a cutoff flannel
shirt left open. I slid on an extra wide stainless steel cockring. Two
bottles of poppers and a couple expertly rolled joints in my shirt pocket
meant I was ready to begin my routine.
I hit an adult bookstore in a really sketchy part of town just in time
for the lunch rush. For about ninety minutes I huffed poppers and sucked
a string of cocks from mostly Latino construction workers--hot and dirty,
reeking of piss and unwashed foreskin. Still, all pretty tame by my
standards, and as the foot traffic died down, and then stopped
completely, I figured I had a long, boring afternoon ahead of me. Still
horny as hell, I got into my pickup (this business trip had been one of
those rare ones that was close enough for me to drive my own vehicle) and
started cruising around.
The neighborhood really was down and out. I thought about picking up some
street trash to work over or maybe offering my ass to some homeless dudes
under the freeway, when I spotted a rusty, worn sign for "Marco's Pig
Iron Gym." I immediately perked up, as these kinds of old school gyms
are a dying breed--at least the kind I like. I hate those sparkly chain
gyms that you always find in strip malls and shopping centers. I'm
always on the lookout for dark, sweaty, stinking hot gyms filled with
real iron and real men. Sure, it might also help me keep in shape at 45
years old, but I'm not ashamed of my gut and a combination of fat and
muscle spread across my thickly hairy body. No, I don't head to these
gyms and pay their hefty day rates so I can get ripped. I'm there to
soak up the smells and sounds of grunting, sweating men and hopefully
more if I'm lucky.
Speaking of lucky, I had a leftover gym bag in the truck with an unwashed
tanktop and ripe sneakers. I pulled in the parking lot, swapped out of my
boots and flannel. I left my cock ring on and sparked up one of the
fatties from my shirt pocket before heading for the door. The weed hit me
good and I was so fucking horned. As I walked up I noticed a buzzer and a
sign: "Marco's Pig Iron Gym. Gym members only. No trespassing, no
solicitation." Well, I wasn't a member but surely they'd let me work
out for a price. I rang the buzzer and waited. Nothing. I rang again and
this time the door clicked open and I stepped inside.
As my eyes adjusted to the dark interior, I noticed there was a roped off
boxing ring that looked like it had gone untouched for quite a while.
There were a few rusty machines but mostly just rows of plates and
dumbbells. It was humid as fuck inside and at least 80 degrees with a
couple fans creating a little stale breeze. My pig cock started stirring
just at the feel of sticky, testosterone-heavy air on my skin.
There were three guys working out when I walked in. A pair of obviously
roided up black dudes were working out together, both shirtless, stripped
down to just a pair of loose basketball shorts that sagged off their
thick meaty asses. They were sweating buckets, leaving their bench press
and the surrounding floor sopping.  I could smell them both from the door
and resisted the urge to start slurping the rivulets of sweat from their
bulging roid guts. The third guy couldn't be more different--white and
skinny, he looked like he was about eighteen and one step away from a
methhead hustler or carny worker. He was covered in tattoos, almost all
of which were visible since he wore a cutoff tanktop that was barely a
couple inches wide, revealing his inked up pecs and puffy nipples. But
even more impressive and surprising was below the waist. He was working
out in just a crusty, stained, worn through jockstrap that was straining
against a sizeable package. Every inch of his skinny legs and ass were
covered in tattoos, almost all on display as he knocked out some squats
in his jock and tank. What kind of gym was this that let dude work out
practically naked? I was beyond intrigued and practically panting with
lust. All three eyed me wearily but continued about their business. I
noticed one of the black dudes casually rubbing the front of his shorts.
I was taking all this in and getting harder by the second when a guy I
assumed was Marco himself came out from the back. Now my good fortune
really came into focus. Marco was a pig's dream. He too was shirtless
with a big broad chest and a pair of nipples that stood out at least an
inch and a half or more. His body was matted in hair like a gorilla, all
sweaty and dripping like everyone else in this place. His shaved head
glistened as did the salt-and-pepper stubble on his face. He was wearing
a pair of lycra bike shorts with a huge jock cup the size of a bowling
bag. It didn't take a genius to figure out that he was hauling around a
silicone-filled elephantine cock and pair of balls in there. Even though
we were in a gym, he had a half-smoked lit cigar clinched in his teeth. I
think I fell in love in about two seconds.
"Can't you read? Members only," the man growled at me around his gar.
"Yeah, I saw the sign," I replied, "but I'm from out of town. Figured
I could buy a membership or day pass or whatever..." I made sure to keep
my eyes locked on his. I've never been into dom/sub scenes. I wanted
this pig to know he was talking to an equal (and hopefully equally
perverse).
He looked me up and down, lingering over the tent in my sweatpants since
of course I wasn't wearing underwear. He took a deep drag from his cigar
and blew the smoke into my face. I leaned in, inhaling all I could. Then
he grinned. "Boys," he hollered to the three on the gym floor, "we're
going to head to my office...see if we can't get this fella squared
away." He turned around and headed through the same back doorway I saw
him enter from. As I followed I heard some low chuckles from the other
guys.
The door led to a filthy open locker room. There were a couple antique
showerheads that (if actually used) would have spewed water onto the
floor -- no shower stalls or curtains here. There was a clearly
overflowed urinal and pair of open toilets on one side and some rusty
lockers on the other. I could see (and smell) that both toilets were full
of massive shit dumps that hadn't been flushed. I didn't see a roll of
toilet paper anywhere in the room. It all reeked of shit, sweat, and
piss.
"Strip down and come join me," Marco said as he hooked his thumbs into
his shorts and yanked them off. As I suspected, the most beautiful
silicone enhanced cock flopped out along with a pair of grapefruit-sized
balls. It was enormous...I could have easily slid my own now-drooling cock
into the pisshole. He chuckled at my bulging eyes and crotch, flicked his
cigar into the urinal, and walked through another door that I had missed
before. As he opened it, clouds of steam billowed out. A steamroom!
"Don't worry about your stuff...no one will fuck with it here," he told
me and then he disappeared into the steam as the door closed behind him.
I lost no time stripping out my clothes and following him in, wearing
only my cockring.
"Welcome to my office," he said as the steam rolled around me. As my
eyes adjusted I saw him manspread across the top level of a two-tiered
tiled seating area, legs wide as he rubbed the monster meat and balls
hanging off the edge. As much as I love steamrooms, most are set to
punishing heat levels, so that you can only linger for a few minutes.
This room was perfectly adjusted--slick, wet, and warm billowing clouds
that you could stay in for hours. "I'm Junior" he continued as I
walked over to the lower level of the seating, plopping down between his
wide-spread legs and resting my back against one of his thick, hairy
thighs. I too casually stroked my throbbing cock.
"I thought you'd be Marco," I said. "Marco's Pig Iron Gym?"
"Yeah, Marco was my old man. I'm Marco too, but everyone calls me
Junior. So I guess you're kinda curious about this place, huh?" That
was an understatement. It was like I had died and gone to pig heaven.
Junior's cock was dripping like a leaky faucet onto my crotch. Mixed
with the steam it became the slickest lube I'd ever felt.
"This was my dad's place for decades. Real pillar of the community shit
until everyone moved away or got too strung out on drugs to care about an
old boxing gym. It had been shuttered for a couple years before he died.
That was six months ago. I hadn't talked to him in years and now all of
a sudden I hear I own a rundown gym in the worst part of town." He
slouched a bit more on the bench so that our cocks were touching--his
hanging down from above and mine throbbing up to greet it. He also
started fingering his ass, which I could now see was puffy and distended,
already lewdly hanging open. I moaned out loud, but Junior ignored me,
continuing his story like we were just a couple buddies shooting the
breeze and taking a steam. "I pulled off the plywood and opened the
doors, just to see what would happen. And a few guys I know have floated
in...like-minded dudes you might say. But there's a ton of back taxes and
bills piled up, so I don't think we'll stay open much longer. Figure I
might as well take advantage of it while it is here, if you know what I
mean..."
I hauled myself up and pulled his mouth to mine. Our tongues instantly
began exploring. We opened wide, drool building as we tasted each other
until it started flowing freely down our chins. We mashed our faces
together, struggling to get further and further into the other man's
mouth. I tasted his smokey spit and sucked down every drop I could find.
He slowly worked his way across my upper lip and then, holding the back
of my head in his meaty grip, shoved his whole tongue up my right
nostril. He swabbed every bit of my snot onto his prying python of a
tongue and then did the same to other side while I moaned in ecstasy.
The steam was making every inch of our naked flesh slick and we ground
into each other.
Suddenly I felt a fountain of scorching hot liquid shooting up between
our gnawing, panting faces. That elephant cock of his was launching a
geyser of hot piss. I broke off our slobbering makeout session and opened
my mouth over the rank yellow stream. It tasted like pure gold. I left it
splash all over my face and hair, running down my chest. Then I filled my
cheeks and came back up to spit it all over Junior's eager open mouthed
face. The monster cock kept pissing so I repeated the move a few more
times, coating his face with piss and slobber. By the time the fountain
finally wound down we were drenched, grinding away in what seemed like a
lake of yellow nectar.
This whole time Junior kept his other hand busy fingering his loose
mancunt. I'd been distracted by our snogging and piss play but now I saw
that he had worked his entire fist into the gaping, wrecked hole. I
turned my attention to this beautiful sight. I began tonguing, slobbering
and chewing all around his clinched fist imbedded in his furry cunt. I
tugged on his rubbery asslips with my teeth and sucked every drop of
assmuck from his paw as he started sliding it all the way in and out.
My own ass was filled with thick cords of manshit. Two days of wining and
dining clients with giant steak dinners had stuffed my guts to capacity.
I hadn't shit the whole time I'd been in town and I felt the warm waves
of the steamroom loosing me up. For a second I wondered if it might be
too much, but looking at this magnificent pig god I knew we needed to
move into hardcore scatplay ASAP.
I stood up on the lower bench and straddled the perverted sight below me
-- a thick fist self-thrashing this pig's oozing hole while his
gargantuan cock and balls flopped and smacked in the swirling steam.
First, I relaxed my rigid cock to let the piss start flowing. It shot up
and then rained down on Junior as he writhed in his punchfucking glory. I
reached down and grabbed his huge eraser nipples and began tugging and
squeezing them. As my piss flew up into the air I felt my ass opening up.
Soon I was pushing out a serpent of pure thick pigshit. It hung from my
ass where I stood-- twelve inches, fifteen, twenty. It kept spooling out
in an unbroken perfect turd. Finally it snapped off and landed in a ropy
coil across Junior's cock, balls, and along his fisting arm. He
immediately began massaging it into everything the massive turd touched,
coating his arm and cock, and painting his balls with thick shit. The
steamroom quickly turned the shit into a warm brown sludge. I looked in
absolute awe at the beautiful sight, never letting up on my nipple
torture--squeezing and yanking like I wanted to pull them off his body.
He grunted and moaned in pure pleasure, drooling from his open, gaping
mouth with his tongue hanging out.
That's when I felt my second turd coming on. I released one of those
udder tits so I could reach back and cup my hand under my stretched
filthy hole. This one was nowhere as big, so it nicely filled my waiting
palm before snapping off. I immediately brought it forward and dropped
back down on the bench, again face to face with my newfound pig
companion. I smeared my shit filled hand down his face and then mine,
back and forth until we both coated with the sewage from my ass. Then I
grabbed him again and began making out--if possible with even more
vigorous ferocity than before. We ground our shitty faces and mouths
together, spitting and hauking snot, drooling rivers into the slurry that
now coated our heads and ran down our bodies. We chewed on each other's
faces, even relishing the little bit of blood that we drew in our
animalistic hunger.
My shit mixed with Junior's snot and drool, filling my mouth as we
passed the sludge back and forth. But I wanted more. I looked deep into
my new lover's eyes and jabbed my shitty fingers brutally down his
throat, jerking his head forward to send them even deeper. He knew want I
wanted and I knew he wanted it too. He jerked his head down onto my
probing digits until he started gagging and sputtering. Then with a
mighty groan he hurled over my hand and into my face, just a mere inch or
two from his own. I opened my mouth wide and planted it over his heaving
mouth. His acrid burning stomach sludge filled me and triggered my own
gag reflex. For the next few seconds we vomited and hurled into and over
each other, coating our hairy, wet bodies with the bilge of our mutual
piggyness. Soon we were completely dripping in puke, our erect cocks
straining from the perverted pleasure of such a disgusting and degenerate
display. We were so into each other that neither of us heard the
steamroom door open.
"Well guys," said a deep voice behind me, "I guess we have a new gym
member..."
To be continued...