Chapter 1: The barnyard smash
It was another typical day on the farm, the sun gleaming through my stall window casting warm rays across my plump 6 foot tall soft figure as I laid in my bed of hay. I brushed a lock of my blonde hair out of the way and adjusted my glasses as I flipped through the pages of my book reading to pass the time when I heard a knock at my stall door. It was the farm hand. I put my book down and came to the door opening it and looking down at him. “Well howdy James what can I do ya fer?” I chipped out.
James smiled up at me and pulled out a lead and responded “hey Benny I got some work for you today. Got some boys here in the barn that need to let off steam. Ya know how it goes”. I sighed,smiled and nodded “just another day on the job I suppose” I responded as he clicked the lead onto the ring in my nose, the familiar tug that made my bell clank against my chest. I’d already been dressed for the day: soft cow-print sleeves and leggings that clung to my thighs, the heavy brass bell hanging from the thick leather collar, yellow ear tag labeled with my name and the number 24 on it, swinging every time I moved. My cock sat locked and heavy in its cage, the metal already warm from how long I’d been wearing it.
The barn doors opened and the smell hit first — hay, sweat, musk, the sharp tang of other boys who’d already been used. As I was led through the hall seeing the other stalls filled with boys resting after an eventful morning, leaking from their now loose gaping holes and moaning. Some still restless while others fast asleep.
I finally was led into an empty play pen where The horse boys and bull boys were waiting in a loose half-circle.
Ryder was at the front, as usual. A Tall, dark-haired, broad through the shoulders stallion. He was the farms work horse known for pulling plows and doing the heavy lifting around the farm, wearing a heavy leather harness that sat tight across his chest with a massive flared ebony mottled cock hanging already half erect and leaking between his legs, nestled over sack that looked to be filled with a set of soft balls. He always took the lead when a new cowboi was brought in. Beside him was Nash leaning against a post.He was a leaner slim stallion stud known for his racing pedigree, blond, with a constant half-smile that never quite reached his eyes, that cocky attitude of an athlete he was known for with the cock and stamina to back it up. Brock one of the farms lead breeding bulls loomed a little further back, thick-necked and quiet, the biggest of the bull boys, arms crossed over his chest like he was already impatient eyeing me up and down as one of his hands was already working that pink uncut cock that always got the heifers wailing.
Ryder stepped forward and took the lead from the farm hand without asking.
“About time,” he said, voice low. His eyes dragged over me slowly. “He’s already flushed. Look at that caged cock. He’s damn near gonna bust out he’s straining so much.” He said with a husky chuckle as one of his hands slapped it firmly causing my knees to buckle and a groan escape my lips.
Nash pushed off the post and circled behind me. His hands settled on my hips, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh just above the waistband of the cow-print leggings as he squeezed possessive pushing that semi erect cock up between my legging covered asscheeks as he leaned in close.
“Been thinking about this all day,” Nash murmured near my ear. “Bet he’s dripping already.” He gave my balls a casual squeeze through the fabric, Causing me to let out a throaty horse moan as Nash laughed. “Yeah. There it is.”
Brock finally moved closer. He didn’t speak. He just reached out, pinched one of my pierced nipples hard between thick fingers, and held on until I cried out biting my lip trying to stifle it. Only then did he let go, giving a short, satisfied grunt.
Ryder tugged the lead, forcing my head up. “Over the bale. Now.”
I went down hard. Straw scraped my cheek. The bell on my collar rang once, sharp.
Ryder didn’t waste time. He shoved my leggings down just far enough, lined up, and pushed into me in one long, steady thrust. The stretch dragged a broken noise out of me, as his thick shaft forced its way in making my hot insides accommodate his sheer size.Nash moved in front a second later, cock already in hand, and fed it past my lips with a quiet curse.
“Fuck, his mouth’s just as soft as last time,” Nash said, hips rolling forward. “Easy, cowboi. Take it.”
Ryder set a hard, relentless pace, hands locked on my hips,digging in till they left red marks. Every thrust drove me forward onto Nash’s cock with an audible gurgle and cough. Brock waited his turn in silence, watching with dark, patient eyes. They both found a rythem driving into me from both ends till my vision blurred. The pain white hot slowly simmered down as my body acclimated.i began mooing around mashes cock every time Ryder impaled into me with an audible slap of his hips as they met mine. It seemed like an eternity being spitroasted by these two studs but finnally Ryders thrusts became more frantic and forcefull till he finnaly crested his climax.
When Ryder came it was with a deep, drawn-out groan. He buried himself to the hilt and held there, pulsing, pumping hot thick rope after rope of his fertile cum into my insides, while Nash kept talking through his own pleasure.
“That’s it—fill him up. Make a mess of him.”
Nash finished across my tongue a moment later, fingers tight in my hair as he pulled it making my mouth lull open as I drooled and looked up at him with glassy glazed over eyes behind my steamed up glasses before letting go finnaly and stepping back. Brock took his place without a word, thicker than the others, forcing me open wider. He fucked me slow and heavy, one big hand pressed between my shoulder blades, until he too emptied himself deep inside me with a low, almost silent exhale.
By the time they stepped back I was shaking, hole fluttering and leaking, the taste of them still thick in my mouth. Nash gave my ass a casual slap and watched another thick trickle of cum slide down my thigh.
“Pretty like this,” he said. “All used and quiet.”
Ryder only watched, breathing hard. Brock already looked ready for another round.
The Handler’s hand settled on the back of my neck, steady and calm.
