Farm Plan (3)

Tim didn’t think he’d smiled this much in the last ten years. His frikking jaw hurt from the grin that seemed permanently etched on his face these days.

Gals, lots and lots of gals. All sizes. All shapes. Almost all nekkid as jay birds. And if they weren’t nekkid, they were near enough to it. Enticing. That was a dictionary word that surely fit his world these days. He’d walked down to Barn 2 to check things out earlier today. He’d opened the door and been greeted by the most gorgeous rotund ass that he’d ever seen. Forget those fucking skinny porno chicks, with their fake tits-these were real women, who really got a groove on by being hit, tied up, slapped, pinched, clamped, you name it. He’d been invited to stroke rosy bums, the heat and sensually warmed flesh making his tired old cock rise like he was 15 again.

He’d had multiple “thank you” blowjobs. He never turned one down, even if he’d had one earlier in the day. The feeling of hot lips on his shaft? Nope, wouldn’t say no to that until he was cold and in the ground.

Indeed, he’d even seen several “decoration” sluts, hanging on the hooks in some of the campsites. Next year he might suggest putting electricity in the camps; he’d been asked several times about it. He needed to remember to ask Bill to put it into their planning calendar for when they discussed next year’s camp. For there was definitely going to be a next year! Profit margin had surpassed their wildest expectations, and they had a frigging waiting list!

“Yo!” He hollered, spying Bill in the distance. Bill waved, but didn’t move from where he stood. AS he drew closer, Tim noticed that he was taking a piss-on a gal sitting in one of those blue plastic kiddie pools they’d been asked to supply. Well, didn’t that beat all?

Her hands were tied behind her back, clamps tight on her nipples, tiny silver bells hanging down from them. Her mouth was caged open with one of those “spider” gags. Piss dripped down her hair, her cheeks, rolling in yellow streams down her tits and torso. She  knelt there in the center of the pool, where a puddle of what must now be cold piss was forming around her knees and legs. Bill was shifting his stream between her mouth, and making those tit-clamp bells ring. She shivered as his hot piss washed over her in the chilly morning air. Or maybe it was the big-assed vibe in her cunt that made her shiver. He was alternately grossed out, and excited by the show. The sign on the ground in front of her said “Piss on my slut”.

He tugged his zipper down. He could always shake out a few drops–and he’d had his morning coffee and oj. As Bill finished up, he began his own release, first in a few stuttering spurts, then one powerful jetting gout of urine. He missed her mouth, splashing her eyes, which make her whimper, then down along the line of her throat to her tits. He figured he might as well douse her good, but he couldn’t quite make himself squirt into her mouth. The idea of that was pretty fucking gross.

A large, hairy man ambled over.

“She’s gonna smell like fuck-all soon enough,” he said, as he pulled out his thick cock and began pissing on the girl. Small puffs of steam rose from the heat of his urine as his thick morning piss splattered her. He played it down her tits, making the bells ring madly. A cheer went up in the tent nearby.

Tim put his own cock away, shaking his head at the peculiar games these people played.


At 4 p.m. the two men sauntered into the barn. This was the grand opening of the new milking equipment. The barn carried the scent of cows, even now. Hay, thankfully fresh, lined the stalls, and around the milking platforms. The crew had gone to a lot of effort to make the experience “authentic”.  The girls, all five of them, were yoked into position, heads and hands captive in the metal slots. Bare bottoms wiggled, setting tits to jiggling. One girl had small tits, and Tim wondered how that would go. To his surprise she was hooked up with the original teat suckers. The motor hummed and her tits were suctioned into the skinny tubes. Nipples flared and distended, her head pulled back as she moaned.

“That’s gotta fucking hurt,” Tim said in an aside.

“You betcha! That fucking thing pulls like a bitch.”

“I’d be happy to stick your cock in one to see how hard it sucks.” The purring voice came from a Dominatrix. She was unnerving, frankly, in her jet-black corset, rose-tipped breasts peaking from the lace. Bill looked at her, licked his lips.

“You’re purty as all get out, miss, but definitely think we’d be fighting about which of us would be leading the other in any kind of dance.”

She threw back her head and let out a laugh, loud and lusty. She ran her finger down his chest, and damned if his cock didn’t lurch to life.

“I like you, farmer Bill.”

“That worries me, Ma’am.” His tone was dry.

She laughed yet their attention was drawn to the third slut. Her tits were fucking huge. Her Master had pulled her long red hair into a crude ponytail so that everyone could see. His hand pinched and tugged at her nipples, making her moan. He slapped them as they hung there, then affixed the milking cups. She whimpered, moaned, cried out as the incredible suction began sucking her tits deeply into the cup. Bill’s hard-on grew as her body quivered with the sensations of her tit-flesh being relentlessly tugged down into the cups by the force of the machine.

A thin line of milk began leaking into the long funnel tube from the girl on her left, and the crowd leaned forward, craning for a glance. Bill knew that each girl had her own collection container, and that the amount of milk that might come from any of them would be mere ounces if that. Far less than he’d ever gotten from any of his girls. Cows. He shook his head. Had to be clear now, which was who. The redhead’s tits were turning purple from the suction, a steady moaning coming from her.

To his shock, her Master stood behind her, holding what looked like a ping-pong paddle. He took a vicious looking swipe across her ripe round ass, and she yelped. He repeated the strike on her bum, and again she yelped. The sight made Bills cock stiffen, and he swore he felt a wet spot growing in his boxers. He’d watched this stuff on Porn Channel but fuck it was something entirely different in real life.

He was amazed to find himself standing beside the Master…he had no clear memory of crossing the room.

“May I?” Damned if he wasn’t clear about what he wanted.

The man stopped, handing the paddle to Tim. “Go ahead. Feel her dirty cunt. She’s dripping.”

Tim wondered if the man thought he was ending the scene by showing up here-as the COO of Boone’s Fucking Farm he carried a lot of heft for one old coot. His hand smoothed over her glowing ass. The heat was incredible, and bruises speckled the once white bottom. His fingers slid down the slick channel between her thighs. The sound of the milking machine was intense down here, and he could feel the girl jolting as it sucked madly away at her tits.

Her pussy was like a blast furnace. Molten heat poured from her, juice gleamed wetly on her swollen lower lips.

“Want to fuck her?”

He turned, looking at the Dom. “Do bears shit in the woods?”

Laughing, Master B responded.

“Last I heard, yes.”

Bill dug in his pocket for a condom. They were everywhere, boxes of condoms. Hanging on trees, in every play area. Handed out to campers when they first arrived, and for sale in the gift shop. He’d never seen more condoms in one place in his life!

He slipped it on, then lined up behind her.

“Give it to her rough. She wants to be used hard this week.” The Dom’s voice dropped. “This is as much about her fantasy as mine.”

Bill smiled. He was all about fulfilling this little gals fantasy!

His cock slid deep, buried in her succulent hot flesh. His hands took her hips, bucking into her like a rutting dog. The girl moaned, groaned, the sounds both guttural and primeval. Never before had fucking been just this simple. A cock and an available cunt. He pounded to the rhythm of the sucking machine, her sounds growing more desperate as he punched into her soaking chasm. She came with her cunt squeezing his cock like a fucking vice clamp. He pulled out and rutted into her, making the girl whimper and squirt beneath his assaulting dick. He heard the splash between his feet, felt the sudden gush as her pussy convulsed on him. It sent him over the edge. Panting, he felt his cum explode from his balls, his fingers pinching into her flesh as he filled the condom, his cock buried fully in her stuttering snatch. He’d find bruises on those hips later, he knew. He also suspected that she wouldn’t mind that a bit.

He no longer had a single doubt that these people had a head up on everyone else when it came to sex.