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going off server wasn't an unusual occurrence for zam, especially now that he's picked up the hobby of speedrunning. everything was going okay during his current run, save for the fact he's been trading for the past 10 minutes, throwing gold down into a hole filled with angry piglins, hoping and praying he'll get some pearls. funny thing about that, well, he hasn't gotten jack-shit.
he's not watching too carefully when it happens. in fact he's actually not paying too much attention to anything else, instead his attention is focused on talking to his off-world friends on his communicator, and he's trying to find more gold so he can avoid the bottom treasure room in the bastion as much as he possibly can. but unfortunately, he's now getting sent sprawling down into the pit with a not-so-graceful grunt, falling on top of a few piglins that are staring at him silently. one manages to catch him and pull him up by his cape, and he's regretting every life choice that has led him to this point as the piglins start grunting at each other. he's about to pull out his communicator and leave this world behind, maybe try another run or something, but his communicator is on the ground in between the hooves of the piglins and he... can't really reach that. there's about five in this pit with him, and they've spread out, ignoring the gold ingots on the ground, foregoing them for the golden crown atop his head. one picks it away, and instead of— normal piglin behavior, it tosses the thing away, up and out of the pit, and then zam is dropped to the ground. he starts trying to scramble to grab his communicator, but one of the piglins— the biggest one, kicks it to the side and zam realizes that he's screwed. shiiiiit.
"look, guys, come on, uhhh.... let's talk about this?" he suggests, no clue if the mobs even have any clue what he's saying — there's such a big difference between their ways of talking, common and piglish are very different, and this whole thing is stressing him the fuck out.
the biggest piglin reaches down and tugs at zam's pants leg. zam decidedly freezes up, and tries to scramble to his feet. "oh nononono, no, no, no, we are not— it's—!"
the piglin ignores what he's saying, or probably just doesn't understand it, which is much more likely, and then he's pulling at his golden leggings and then his pants even more and then zam is left only in his cape, blouse, and boxers. not the best combination. he's still got his chest plate on, but that's doing nothing to cover how exposed he feels. "i am princezam, you cannot be doing this to me!" he manages, fighting against the piglins, and he realizes that one of them is positioning him so he's on his hands and knees, skin rough against the feeling of the blackstone the bastion is built from, and there's a feeling of something warm against his backside. and. oh, goodness gracious, fuuuuck. fuck this! truly fuck this experience and everything that's got him here, because he feels something press against his ass, and his eyes widen when he realizes that the piglin behind him — the second biggest one, probably, is pushing inside of him. it's a rough, horrible feeling, he can feel the muscle stretch past its limit and he's yelping, trying to back away, or forward?, wherever he's going, he's not going to make it very far, because the biggest piglin is holding him down, and suddenly there's his cock in front of his face, shoving against his lips — there is nothing nice about this experience, and he realizes in batant horror that he is not making out of his experience alive. in fact he's sure the piglins are going to literally fuck him to death! and he's not wanting that! so he smushes his lips together to avoid the big thing entering, but the piglin at fault for this is gripping his jaw and opening his lips, and he's pushing past— yanking at his hair, a warning maybe, not to use teeth — and zam knows his death will be a lot worse if he does, so he lets the piglin slide its cock down his throat, and he's gagging and choking as the one behind him begins to move. and oh fuck, that's not fun. there's a fuzzy burning feeling from it, probably — definitely, from the lack of prep, but he thinks the piglin realizes that, because it's pulling out — thank fuck — and he hears the smashing of a potion, and feels something wet drip against the back of his thighs.
the piglin is, in an odd way, lubing itself up? he's not going to read too deeply into that as his throat is used, and he can feel himself throb between his legs, his own dick hanging untouched, precum sticking to his thigh. which is weird. everything about this is weird, but he can't ignore the fuzzy feelings pulling at the edges of his brain as the piglin uses his throat, fucking him roughly, and zam finds himself complying. he flattens his tongue around the base and screws his eyes shut, and suddenly the one behind him is pushing in again — a much smoother practice, actually, it's a lot more gentle and feels kind of .. better? doesn't stop the stretching from hurting, but at least he's not dry in there. anyway. back to getting facefucked by the other piglin!
he can hear the approving grunts from the other three, and suddenly zam is being flipped onto his back while he's taking it in his mouth and up his ass, and he can't help the pleasured groan that builds up in his throat, and the piglin whose dick is stuck in his mouth's pace staggers, and then there's something warm, thick and salty streaming down his throat, and he swallows every last drop — not that he can really avoid that, but when the piglin pulls out, another trades its spot and oh, shit, this isn't ending. but he can't help just how hot this situation has ended up, communicator left alone and buzzing to the side, and he's trying to move a hand to touch his own dick as he swallows against the one in his throat, adams apple bobbing as his mouth is used again. he manages to keep himself breathing pretty steadily against the pressure in his throat, thank fuck his nose isn't blocked — but the breaths are shallow and he feels so lightheaded. he's kind of disassociating right now, zam realizes, because he's become so numb to his surroundings that the thrusting from the other piglin isn't really .. bothering him too much. but he wraps a weakened hand around his cock and the feelings send a shock of pleasure up his back and he's arching it up away from the blackstone, twitching as he cums almost immediately. he wants so badly to breathe but the piglin with its dick in his throat isn't letting him have his way, so he attempts to pull back and away, get a deep breath — everything feels so unreal, he feels like he's in a bubble, detached from everything and everyone.
the piglin grabs him by his hair and shoves its entire length down his throat, and zam sees black spots at the edges of his vision, and they get a little too big and he's blacking out.
when he wakes up, he's laying half naked in the pit, communicator within arms reach — piglins oddly nowhere in sight. there's something in his mouth, and it tastes oddly like magma cream, but saltier? and he realizes that it's probably piglin cum, so he spits it all out and tries to sit upright. unfortunately there's something wet in between his legs, and he looks down to see a mixture of blood and cum, which does nothing but sicken him. so he shoots rekrap a quick message, something like "hey please help here's my IP i need help" which probably ends up as something a lot more messy, because he feels so wrecked and tired, and his hands definitely aren't cooperating.