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Farm Hand Tom is an Asshole (part of the Boss Dad series)
All are 18+
100% work of original fiction based on a local legend in the foothills and hollars of the Appalachian Mountains.
Features: CNC, drug trigger (tobacco and weed and booze), Redneck and roughneck. Tradies. Outdoors. Verse. Humiliation. Rough play. Spanking. Dominance. Forced submission. Power play & flip fuck revenge.
Almost no dialogue.
Spoiler alert: everybody takes it up the ass eventually…
Tom was a douche bag from the start. You know the kind that are relatively good looking yet average looks. We used to call it the boy Next Door look back home in the Appalachian range. He just gave off a cocky vibe. He was stereotypically inked with quite a few flash tattoos he got during the war in the Pacific. Basically the stereotype you pictured in your head, that was him. Dyme-A-Duzin. Now I don’t have to describe this motherfucker any longer and simply get to tellin yall how Tom turned my asshole into a full-blown Cunt.
Instead of showing me the ropes on my second day on the job at the back 40 of the Boss Dad farm, he basically kept hinting that I was weak and ineffectual for Boss Dad’s business and that he definitely had the upper hand and always would.
While I was certainly attracted to male stars in a stag reel for their ability to fuck a pussy like I wish I could, I certainly wouldn’t consider myself a Dandy. My girlfriend three towns over loves me very much and I respected that. Always. Like clockwork every Saturday night, Sally-May would give me a hand job. This was my only nut I allowed myself for the entire week. Saturday night was best, I could ask for forgiveness at church the next morning. Just mere hours after spillin seed.
Tom started asking about Sally. When I started to get a little rough with him verbally about the topic, he quickly puffed out his douche bag chest. Fucking stupid. I felt Tom’s hand reach for the waistband of my Levi’s as I was unprepared for any physical confrontation. I felt a certain kind of way that I couldn’t describe. Tom just went for it and pulled them all the way down exposing me in the middle of a wheat field.
He told me that I had to go through his own personal initiation. He told me that Boss Dad wasn’t always top dog. He told me nobody could see or hear this auxiliary wheat field unless they hiked in on foot. Solitude for this motherfucker. My dick turned inside out at the fear of what that meant especially since my ass was hanging out saluting mother nature and the universe at large. He quickly explained that it was going to be a series of spanks. My mind was a little more at ease. I can easily take some whacks since daddy taught me how to take a switch to the ass every Sunday morning before church.
It was humiliating from the get-go. I could take the switches, but I was having trouble adjusting to the fact my little butt hole was on display to the entire wheat field. Even though we were totally alone, I felt totally exposed. His swat came out of nowhere and landed on one of my cheeks. I could feel the outline of his hand. I know from experience what my ass looks like when it is on fire.
I was relieved when he gave each butt cheek only 15 swats. Honestly, I think his hand started to get tired or started hurting. Or maybe it was just an excuse to move onto the next step of his initiation. I thought it was over, but he had a shit ton more to do to me.
I started to feel like an object . A whipping boy for him to get his frustrations out on. After I stood up from the whoopin, I saw a look in his eyes I have never seen before. I didn’t know if he was gonna fuck me up or if he was gonna fuck me.
Turns out he was going to do both.
Using nothing but mass amounts of precum, spit, determination, and commands, he pushed that thing inside of me. I had never had a person so close to my physical being. Invaded. He kept telling me to push like I was taking a massive shit and wrenched my arm up towards my shoulder blade. I pushed. I didn’t realize I was whining like a cunted bitch. It sounded like I was crying but there were no tears. I could feel the muscles in my face making movements they had never made before. I was living the definition of being cunted. I became hyper aware of the fact that my unknown-to-man ass lips were further apart than they had ever been. His dick was thicker than any shit I’ve ever shat. I felt fully blown open. I pushed. He warned that if I didn’t meet him half way, my arm was going to be useless for a week. Making me fuck myself onto his prick. Seriously? I looked and sounded like a bitch in heat; just like the one I saw on a hard-core stag reel in the city. I couldn’t stop, the pushing was intense so I had to make that sound. I wasn’t trying play a part for him… It just happened. I was mortified at the thought of me in the middle of the field rocking back-and-forth on dick & hollarin like the pervy bitch he was turning me into. My ass lips were vibrating like the strings of a bass guitar. He was making it happen and I couldn’t stop it.
He pulled out. Relief. Only to slide in further. I was sure he was balls deep as he rested on his haunches at the expense of my upturned ass cheeks. He lit a cigarette full of the devil’s lettuce. Inhaled a few times, I’m not quite sure since I was facing the tamped wheat and dirt floor in the middle of the field. All I know is that I flipped to my back quickly. Relief again. He let go of my arm. He took a fat hit and forced the exhale into my lungs. The gooch was not the only thing affecting my brain; because he also made me sniff his sweaty armpits. The combination of weed and pheromones sent me into a drug induced state of being randy. He called it imprinting.
I love the lettuce and one of the things I love about it is the fact it makes my dick STAY hard so I can double cum with my gal’s HJs. He taunted me about it being a sure sign that I was a f**. I started to believe that as well because my dick was throbbing and the fucking was pushing the pre-come out. It felt like uncontrollable miniature orgasms. I didn’t want any of this. But now that my butt hole was owned, I started to enjoy being forced into this carnal pleasure. He turned me into a mindless cunted object. Taking my virgin anus from functional butthole to a gaped cunt completely bypassing the boy pussy phase. He and his dick converted my hole and it started to feel some kind of way. Twitching. Embarrassment. Dripping.
He nutted. It was loud. But there was no lead up to it. Lots of grunts but then he just stopped and rested on his haunches again. He stayed inside remaining rock solid. He kept his seed stowed safely inside my confused and quivering cunt. He said he had plans for that wad and reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pinewood knob. It is something that you younger generations would refer to as a butt plug. He lifted me up slightly and swapped them out. Dick for plug. Then he told me to put my work pants back on and to go bush hog the back 40. This required a brand new 1947 John Deere tractor. That thing shook, rattled, rolled… And vibrated. It didn’t occur to me just how much the tractor was going to rattle. I walked back to the machinery literally butt hurt and defeated and stoned-confused and rock fuckin hard. Starting up the tractor, I instantly became very aware of said tractor. Every vibration and every bump was him cunting me again through that pinewood knob. All day. And it wasn’t even lunch.
I felt that bully juice in my objectified hole. I realized a part of his essence would be with me all day until the end of my shift at Sunset.
My dick jumped.
TBC if I get some votes, there’s no point in writing anything if nobody’s reading… Right?