A Fun Day at the Farm, Pt. 1 [Humiliation][WAM][Real-ish]
***DING DONG***
A deep pit forms in your stomach as you hear your doorbell go. Are they here already? You check the clock and see that it is indeed ten o’clock, right on time. Even so, as you walk to the door, you start trying to think of who else it could possibly be. A friend? Nah, they wouldn’t just call round without asking. An Amazon delivery? But you haven’t ordered anything in months. No… it was definitely them alright.
The doorbell rings again, followed by an impatient rapping on the door. This *was* what you wanted, right? You’d already paid for it, got them to agree to your strange request, got it all planned. There was no backing out of it now.
You stand there for another moment, relishing in the waves of utter dread and sinking despair that had begun washing over you, until the doorbell rings a third time, snapping you out of your ecstasy. You shake yourself out of it, and go to answer the door.
“Finally! We were beginning to think we’d gotten the wrong place! Ready to start? You’ve got a big long day ahead of you!”
In front of you, you see the three women you’d spoken to yesterday, though rather than wearing professional clothes, they are now dressed in almost comically ridiculous dominatrix outfits. You can already see neighbours and passers-by beginning to stare at the three women and their purposefully attention-grabbing costumes.
“You like our clothes? Are they as humiliating as you wanted? I think I can tell that’s a yes just by the way you’re blushing! Anyway, here’s yours. You wanna get changed on your own, or should we come in and ‘help’ out?”
“Er,” you stumble, feeling completely flustered, “sure, come in.”
All three of them step inside your house. Despite ostensibly being your torturers-for-the-day, they are polite and careful, taking their boots off at the door. You lead them into the living room and begin to take off your shirt. Suddenly, the reality of what you’re doing kicks back in, and you feel intensely self conscious.
“Hey, it’s alright. You don’t have to be shy – we’ve all seen lots of naked people, and your body is a long, long way from being the worst one we’ve seen! Come on, let’s get those clothes off.”
One of the women reaches out to pull your shorts down, digging her fingers in around your waist to take your underwear down at the same time. You wince at the sudden ticklish sensation, not to mention the thought of being undressed and exposed in front of three women, but she continues to pull them down, unphased by your squirming.
“There! Wasn’t so bad, was it? And now your privates are on display for all of us to see, so there’s nothing else to be worried about! That was the hard bit, now you just need to finish taking your shirt and socks off.”
A few moments later, you’re standing stark naked in the living room, surrounded by the three women. You can feel that your face is hot and red all the way to your ears. Your hands almost involuntarily reach over the front of your body, trying to cover it up, but it’s a hopeless task now. One of the women hands you your outfit – a girly, skimpy pink bunnysuit leotard with white leggings. The outfit is so tight that it takes you a couple of minutes, but finally you get it on. Even though it covers most of your skin, it’s incredibly revealing. The leotard is padded like a biker’s clothes to give you some protection against possible road-burn. Even though it wasn’t in the specifications, you notice that the ass and chest have been padded out a little bit more than the rest…
“There you go, you look great! Ahaha, don’t you look adorable?”
“Well, I guess we’re all set now! One last chance – are you sure you want to go through with this, today?”
You hesitate for a second, but then bite your lip and nod your head, feeling another burst of butterflies in your stomach.
“Awesome, and you remember our safe word, right? What was it?”
“Er… I… kinda tried my best to forget it,” you admit, guiltily, “I know it’s gonna get extreme today, but I’ve put so much into setting it up, and I don’t want to let it go to waste. Plus, it feels so much better if it’s out of control.”
One of the women rolls her eyes, “Jeez, I should really just call off the whole thing right now. Look, I’ll give it to you again – it’s ‘Toenail’. Got it? Say it yourself, just so I know it’s stuck.”
“Toenail…”
“Good. And don’t hesitate to say it whenever things feel like they’re getting too much. You might not like hearing this, but safety is still the number one priority today. Plus, even if you do say it, it doesn’t mean things have to stop entirely.”
“Yeah, I guess. I just wanted to feel completely out of control.”
“Don’t you worry, we’ll make sure you get more than your fill of that. Talking of, let’s get you leashed up!”
With that, you feel one of the women grab your arms, folding them behind your back while another wraps them tightly with rope. The woman in front of you reaches down and grabs a brightly coloured ball gag out of her bag. She walks up to you, face to face, and places her hands on your head, pulling the ball gag across and into your mouth. Instinctively you try to reach to stop her, but your arms are already bound. Suddenly, a pang of fear hits you as you realise how utterly helpless you are.
“Here, keep this button in your hand. The gag only stays on until we get to the farm, until then if you press this button, it’ll let us know if anything’s not okay.” She puts a small device into one of your hands, making sure that you have it held tight, and then fastens a leash to the collar around your neck.
“Alright, time to go for a little walk! Since you asked for humiliation, we decided to park the car a couple blocks away so your neighbours can all get a nice look at you in your new outfit! Come on!”
She tugs on the leash. You decide to test her, and rather than follow along, you lean backwards. Immediately you feel two hands, one on each shoulder, pushing you forward as all three women march you out of the door. They grab the backpack you prepared that has your house keys inside, and close the door behind them. It’s a fairly warm day outside, but with a fresh breeze that tickles your exposed thighs. You feel another tug on your neck and this time decide to comply. With a gulp, you begin to walk along the street, bound, gagged and dressed in a pink bunnysuit that is near borderline indecent, led by three dominatrixes who despite their own exaggerated outfits are completely confident in contrast to yourself. You look around, trying to reassure yourself that there’s no one else around, but then you accidentally lock eyes with someone else walking down the road. A flush of shame hits you, and for the remainder of the walk to the car, you stare straight ahead at the back of the woman pulling your leash.
Finally, you arrive at their car. They motion for you to get in, and you start to head towards one of the doors.
“Ah ah!” one of them says, “seats are for good girls only! I’m afraid that naughty girls who need to be punished get to ride in the boot!”
She pushes you backwards, into the arms of the other two women, who lift you up horizontally while she grabs your legs, binding them together with more rope. They carry you around to the boot and open it up, and a wave of stench washes out.
“Oh, yeah, we may have left a bunch of eggs and gone-off milk in there overnight with the heater running, and… oh, looks like the milk has spilt everywhere too. Thank god we put down those protective blankets the other day, but I’m afraid there’s no such protection for you. Look on the bright side though – at least this smell will get you used to the farm!”
You struggle as the foul stench hits your nostrils, but with the ropes tied around your arms and legs, there’s nothing at all that you can do. You are thrown into the boot, cracking most of the rotten eggs as your body lands on the drenched blanket. Then, you feel yourself becoming rolled up inside it, trapping you in a world of complete darkness and enveloping you in the near-choking stench.
“Just remember to press that button if it gets too much for you! We’ll get the message even in the front!” one of them says, giving the blanket a hearty slap as they close the boot. You hear doors opening and closing as they climb in themselves, and then a growl as the engine starts up. The car shifts forwards and begins to move as you lie wrapped inside your filth-cocoon, warm but shivering with pure adrenaline and fear as you begin your journey to the farm.
A Fun Day at the Farm, pt. 2 [Humiliation][WAM][Breath-play][Real-ish]
When you were planning the day, you’d thought in your own mind that the car journey would give you some time to collect your thoughts and get used to the situation before the day started for real. In your mind, you would’ve been sat in the back between two of the women, dropping the roleplay for a while to get to know them. To make sure everyone was still on the same page, happy and comfortable.
You couldn’t have been more wrong. Your dommes have taken every measure to make sure that the car journey offers as little respite from the torture as possible. Trapped within several layers of thick blanket inside a tiny boot, there’s nowhere for the festering stench of milk and eggs to escape. What’s more, whoever is driving seems to be taking the kidnapping idea to heart, driving the car as if she’s being chased. Every time the car takes a left turn, all the blood rushes to your head, and every time the car turns right you feel your blood drain and pool in your feet.
The blanket, though thick, offers very little cushioning against the bumps and twists and turns of the car ride. Thankfully the car has decent suspension, but even then, feeling the springs bounce over every bump becomes extremely nauseating, especially once the paved country lanes give way to unpaved dirt tracks. Several times you feel something rising in your throat, but each time you force yourself to swallow it back down. The smell is awful enough now without being surrounded by your own vomit. Would it even work with the ball gag in your mouth? The thought of the vomit being forced out of your nose is almost unthinkable.
The car pulls to a halt. The journey felt like an eternity, and yet you still never managed to begin collecting your thoughts. You hear a car door open, and then feel a wave of blissfully slightly-fresher air spill into the boot as they open it. Two pairs of hands slide under your cocoon, lifting you up out of the boot. You feel yourself being turned around, and then suddenly the hands drop from under you and the world begins to spin. Your bound-up body rolls down the shallow hillside, unfurling the blanket as it rolls until finally you see daylight.
The sight of the blue sky above you fills you with a sensational, exhilarating hope that you’ve never felt before. Which is a shame, because your body still has enough momentum to roll one final time, and with no way to put your arms or legs out to slow yourself, you flip over off the end of the blanket, landing belly down in a muddy puddle.
“Huh, I was totally sure that she’d throw up. Guess you didn’t drive crazily enough, Abby.”
[Note: Decided to start naming them so I’m not saying “the women” every single time…]You managed to pull your head up before you splashed into the puddle, but Abby walks up beside you. You can only crane your head up enough to see her feet, noticing that she’s changed into a pair of wellies (rubber boots). One leg lifts up from the ground, and a moment later you feel it pressing on your head, slowly pushing you down until your face is submerged in the brown water. You shift and writhe around, starting to panic at the sensation of being held down underwater. Just as you’re about to press the button in your hand, she takes her boot off the back of your head and you feel the other two lift your shoulders, pulling you – spluttering and coughing on the dirty water – out of the puddle.
Rather than fill you with fear, you actually feel a tiny bit more confident. It seems like these ladies know precisely how far they can push you before ‘enough’ becomes ‘too much’. It’s a strange sort of confidence – the sort of confidence that comes at the price of knowing that the rest of the day is going to push you to your absolute breaking point.
“Alright – Kat, Emma, hold her still while I untie her. We don’t want our bunny rabbit being able to make an escape.”
You feel the women either side of you tighten their grip on you. They are surprisingly strong, and you get the feeling that trying to wriggle out of their grip would not go well for you. Abby reaches down and unties the rope that is wrapped around your legs, then theone around your arms, taking the button back out of your palm as she does so, and then straightens up face to face with you to take the gag out of your mouth. As soon as it’s out, you begin panting, still slightly out of breath from being ducked in the puddle, but mostly because of how intensely horny and pumped full of adrenaline you’ve become.
“Aw, don’t you look like a mess already! What a sorry state you’re in, and we’ve barely even started!” Abby says mockingly, “Well, it’s a bit of a walk up to the farm, hope you don’t mind. Oh, and since we’re out in the fields now, you probably won’t be needing these anymore.”
She reaches down and unties your shoes, slipping them off and leaving you standing barefoot in the muddy puddle. Your sneakers had already begun to let in water, but now your feet are completely engulfed in the cold, dirty water. The mud underneath feels slippery and slimy as it starts to make its way in between your toes. Abby throws your sneakers into the boot of the car, along with the blanket, and shuts the boot. Kat steps around from the side, holding your leash.
“Alright, time to go!” she says with a playful wink, and then yanks the leash forcefully forwards. You are caught totally off guard by her forcefulness, and, unused to being barefoot you slip and fall forwards, back into the puddle. But Kat doesn’t stop walking. She doesn’t even slow down to wait for you to get back up. You stumble to your feet, pulled by the leash tugging on your neck, but by that time Kat has already moved too far forwards, and you lose your balance again, falling once more to your hands and knees. It takes you several attempts, picking yourself up only to fall back down again, before you make it onto your feet and can catch up to her pace.
Even then, it’s a struggle to keep up with her. The ground is soft and the grass actually feels pleasant against your soles, but it’s also pretty uneven, and every so often you tread on a spiky leaf, or into a softer patch of mud, or your foot slips out from underneath you slightly, all of which keep you from maintaining a steady stride. Emma and Abby aren’t helping either. In fact, they’re doing their very best to put you off and make you fall over again, taunting you every time you stumble, throwing more rotten eggs at you which crack and spill down your body, shoving you from the sides, and even putting their legs out in front of you to try to trip you up.
Their treatment feels incredibly demeaning and degrading. A good person wouldn’t even treat an animal this way. You try to think about how you’re just paying them to do this to you, but the experience has already started feeling deliciously real. You know that you could break out of the roleplay at any moment simply by yelling “Toenail” but allowing your mind to convince itself that this situation is not just a simulation feels so much more fun.
After a couple more minutes of walking, you arrive at the farm. Immediately, your stomach sinks nine levels deeper as you catch a glimpse of what’s waiting for you. The muck spreader [https://i.imgur.com/wPVJo2h.png – slightly different to the one pictured in Ori’s artwork] is parked next to the barn. You’re not sure whether your fear is causing you to exaggerate the size of this thing, but it looks massive. Piled high out above the top are huge mountains of manure and you realise that being dunked in the puddle must have cleaned some of the milk off you because there is only one thing that you can smell right now.
Either that, or the stench is just so overwhelming that it completely overrides any other odours which might still be lingering on you.
Kat stops and turns to you, “You like it? Impressive, right? And don’t worry, the shit on top there might look a bit dry and solid, but we made sure that the rest of the tank is filled with really sloshy, sloppy, liquid sludge. Honestly, we couldn’t believe how cleanly the stuff at the bottom was as it was spiling out of the pipe. It’s practically like cow-diarrhoea down there, hahahaha!”
“Yeah, we had to top it off with drier stuff to make sure it was piled as high as possible,” Abby gleefully continues, “but the first stuff that washes over your face will be hot and wet and oh-so-aromatic, before giving way to the lumpy, crusty chunks of drier stuff that we loaded up on top.”
“But don’t worry,” Emma says, pulling up beside you, “You asked us to find a way to make a full day of it, so we’ve come up with lots more things to do before this! Just think of it as the grand finale, and let that thought hang over you all day…”
You feel the leash pull taut again as Kat starts to lead you towards the barn. The grass gives way to paved concrete. Every few steps you tread on a piece of gravel which digs painfully into your soles. Thankfully, neither Emma nor Abby are trying to trip you up anymore – rather, they seem to be making extra sure that you are steady, and Kat even begins walking at a slower pace to accommodate for the harsher terrain. For a brief moment, their care for your wellbeing once again becomes apparent, and even as they lead you along past the side of the muck spreader, with its near overflowing dung heaps casting a shadow down over your head like you’re a prisoner on the way to the guillotine, you momentarily feel safe in their care…
…and then, the barn door swings open.
A Day at the Farm, Pt. 3 [Pegging][Humiliation][Fart][Spit][Beast]
You stumble inside, but before your eyes can even adjust to the dim light to see what’s in store for yourself, a pair of hands land on your back from behind you and shove you forwards. You trip on something, and begin to topple forwards, expecting to land on hard concrete. Thankfully, a haybale interrupts your fall, and your body folds over the top of it, leaving you in an undignified state with your head hanging down over one side, and your ass stuck up in the air with your knees splayed out to the sides.
*Chhng*
The lights flicker on. You begin to push yourself up off the hay, but feel one of the women pushing you back down. You look up, straight into the lens of a camera which is pointed directly at you.
“Well well well, looks like your torture is finally about to begin! Anything you’ve experienced up until now is child’s play compared to what we’re about to put you through. You know exactly what you did, and no matter how long it takes, we’re going to draw that confession out of you one way or another!”
“Wait, what? I don’t know what you’re talking about? I haven’t done anything!” you cry, confused.
“Tch. Guess you’re gonna make us do this the fun way, then!” Abby taunts, “Alright, first things first. Emma here happens to make a bit of money on the side as a camgirl, but her viewers all love seeing her invite guests on her channel to dominate them. So it looks like you’re gonna become famous!”
At that moment, you hear sharp footsteps behind you, and look over your shoulder to see Emma, wearing high heels and brandishing a massive horse cock strapped to her waist.
“Count yourself lucky, bitch. I really wanted to use a real horse, but the other girls wouldn’t let me, so I got this instead,” she pauses, grabbing a handful of lube and beginning to rub it generously up and down the length of the shaft and over the tip, “I suppose this will have to do. Try to look pretty now, we’re about to go live, so make sure you put on a good show for my fans!”
With that, Abby flicks the cameras on, and you wince as you feel Emma lift your leotard to one side and begin to slide the rubber horse cock deep inside you. She takes care to slow down at any time you show discomfort, but every moment that you begin to relax again, you feel the cock slide a bit further in. It feels massive inside you. Every time you think that there can’t be any more length to take, a little more slides in, until finally it comes to a stop. By this point, your eyes have started watering, and your hands are gripping the edge of the haybale.
“Good girl! You took it all the way to the base! Ready to get fucked?”
In your mind, you were about to say “No, wait!”, but all that comes out is a “Nnnnuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhh!” as you feel the cock withdraw and then push back inside you once more. Emma doesn’t wait for you to relax this time, and sheathes the strap-on into you in one long, firm push. And then, as soon as it has filled you up again, it slides back out, only to return even more forcefully. Your whole body begins to rock back and forth, pulled along by the friction of the horse cock thrusting back and forth inside you.
You begin to bleat and pant, feeling your body entering the rhythm. Fingers grab your hair roughly, and your head is yanked backwards. You look up to see Kat glaring back down at you.
“You ready to confess yet?”
“I-haaah I don’t. Ahaaah. I don’t know whaaaAAAAt… you mean, hah!”
Kat scowls, sucks her mouth, and then launches a glob of thick spit onto your face. It lands on your brow, stretches over your left eye, and begins to roll down your cheek. Kat doesn’t let go of your hair though. Instead, she points your face into the camera.
“Go on. Give them lots of eye contact! I’m reading the chat on my phone and everyone is loving watching you getting fucked right now! This is definitely gonna get clipped and uploaded all over the internet! Smile for your new fans!”
“Hey,” Abby says, “flip him over. I’ve got an idea that’ll help boost the ratings even higher.”
You feel Emma withdraw, and Kat reaches over your back, grabbing your chest and pulling you over onto your back. As soon as you land, Emma spreads your legs open and resumes pounding you. You have a better view of her now as she rams the cock inside you, but that view is suddenly occluded by a pair of asscheeks that you identify as belonging to Abby. She squats down over you, peeling her cheeks wide open, and –
PPPPFFFLOOOORRRBBBT
– rips a massive fart right into your face. She holds her position for a moment, ensuring that the entire cloud settles around your face, before stepping to the side to let the cameras pick up your disgusted, strained expression as you gag on the putrid gas while your ass is still being violated by the enormous dildo.
“Hahaha, right in the mouth!” Abby boasts, “Yeah, the comments are going wild, they loved that! I think it’s almost time to move on to the next thing, though, so I’ll shut the cameras off now. Don’t worry, we’re not gonna film you all day, despite how much everyone on here wants us to.”
Emma bends over you and gives you several strokes that are forceful enough to make you gasp and cry out, but then slides out for the last time, leaving you feeling exhausted and trying to come to terms with the fact that hundreds of strangers had seen your pleasured face as you were being pounded by a horse cock.
But, just as with the car journey, you hardly even have time to begin thinking about what had just happened before you’re pulled back upright. Abby and Kat link arms with you on either side, tucking their arms under yours until they have you held firmly. You can feel their bodies sandwiched up tightly against your sides. Abby pecks you on the cheek, and then grins, saying, “Yeah, we decided that full-on beastiality was a definite no-no, but that doesn’t mean it’s off the cards altogether..!”
You feel your stomach lurch in confused panic as you try to work out what Abby meant. She and Kat begin marching you forwards, past an area that is ominously obscured by a tarp curtain, and out the back of the barn. They turn a corner, and immediately your eyes are greeted by the sight of the rear end of a cow. It is standing in a small holding pen, facing away from you. Emma reappears from out of the barn herself, having removed the strap-on by now. Kat and Abby keep marching you until your body is uncomfortably close to the backside of the cow.
“This here is Betty! Isn’t she beautiful? And her ass just looks so kissable, doesn’t it?”
Everything clicks into place in one dreadful moment, and you realise exactly what’s in store for you next. Emma walks up to the side of the cow and gently lifts up her tail, revealing her steaming, glistening bovine genitalia.
“Yum yum, how delicious! But you don’t have to do this. All you need to do is apologise, and we’ll let you off this part.”
“I’m sorry! I don’t know what I did, but I’m sorry! Please don’t do this!”
“Not good enough. I want to hear a specific apology before I accept that you’re truly sorry.”
“But I don’t know what I’ve done! How can I be specific when I don’t know what I’ve done??”
Emma looks at you with an unimpressed smirk, “Girls?”
On her command, Abby and Kat kick the backs of your knees, dropping you so that your head is in line with Betty’s anus. Then they reach up, still holding your upper arms locked in place with one hand each, but placing their other hands on the back of your head. You try to resist, but you soon give against their strong muscles. They push you forward, in between the cow’s cheeks, until your nose and mouth are pressed up against the dirty, stinky flesh. They hold you there for two seconds before releasing you.
“Alright, was that tasty? You – you’ve got – you’ve got a bit of cow shit on your top lip. No wait, it’s on your lower lip too. And your nose. Shame cows haven’t learned to wipe up after themselves. Anyway, I’ll ask again – are you going to apologise for what you did, or do you want to go in for round two?”
“Please! I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t done anything, please believe me!”
This time, Emma only has to nod to the others before you feel their hands on your head. Your face is smushed up against Betty’s puckered ring for a second time, except this time you’re held there for what feels more like ten seconds.
“Alright, last chance. If you don’t confess this time, then we’ll hold you there for a full minute. Now, I *think* I remember seeing Betty take a dump earlier this morning, but I could be wrong. Maybe the feeling of having your face grinding up against her hole might prompt her to go again, who knows? I’d think really carefully before you answer this time, because I’d hate to see you getting covered in shit this early in the day.”
You stare at the awaiting hold as your mind races, trying to find something that will allow you to avoid going in for a third time.
“Okay, okay! I’m sorry! I’m sorry that I’m such a pathetic pervert! Is that it? I’m sorry I tried to struggle earlier! I’ll behave better from now on! I don’t know, please! I’m sorry!”
“No, no… you know I’m not talking about any of those. Still acting stubborn, huh? Well, I can’t say you didn’t ask for it. Go ahead girls, make sure you really rub his nose in it this time.”
“No! No no no! Nononononffffffgh!” Your cries of protest are cut short as your mouth is muffled by the cow’s rear. Kat and Abby start working your head around in circles, grinding it against Betty’s ass. You purse your lips, desperately trying to ensure that nothing slips past, but there’s no way to close your nostrils, nor to prevent the unholy stench from getting inside them. After what feels like an eternity of being forced to make out with this cow’s anus, the two women finally release their grip on your head, allowing you to recoil, coughing and spluttering from the smell that is stuck to your face.
“Oh well, don’t worry, we still have one final interrogation to go, but first, it’s lunchtime!” Abby says, “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving!”
In that moment, there is absolutely nothing less appealing than the thought of eating anything, but as Emma picks up your leash and begins towing you forward, you realise that you probably don’t have much choice.
A Day at the Farm pt. 4 [DEEP humiliation][WAM][Animal-play]
You follow as Emma leads you a short way away from the barn, alongside a hedgerow. You’re consciously trying to breathe as little as possible as you walk. Every time you inhale, you’re reminded of what just happened to you. The image of the cow’s ass, already far too near and closing in on your face as you’re pushed into it, is probably going to haunt your memories for months. The rope goes slack, and in front of you you see a water trough. Instinctively, you begin to dread what is about to happen. Emma reaches down, cupping her hands, and then walks over to you. She splashes the cold water over your face, but then just proceeds to wipe you down, almost like a loving mother would clean their child.
“What a dirty animal you are. Let’s get you cleaned up nicely before lunch.”
You stand there, letting Emma wipe the rest of the shit smears off your face. You breathe in – the smell still isn’t great, but it’s so much better. Maybe the roleplay will break for lunch, and you’ll finally get the downtime you’ve been craving to calm down and sort your thoughts out. Emma picks the leash back up, and you continue walking for a few more seconds until you come to a break in the hedgerow. On the other side of the hedge is a large hamper basket, sitting on top of a wooden picnic table. As you walk closer, you smell the first pleasant scent since the outing began. Whatever is in that hamper smells delicious, enough to make your mouth water.
“Thanks to all the money you gave us, we thought we’d splash out and buy a luxury lunch,” Abby explains, taking out a bottle of champagne and a selection platter of finger foods, “today will be a day to remember, so we wanted everything to be super special.”
You eagerly turn to sit down at the bench, but feel Emma still tugging the leash.
“So, that’s what we’ll all be having, and once again, thank you ever so much for buying it for us. Emma’s gonna show you to where you’ll be eating now, alright? Have fun!” Abby says, waving as you’re pulled away from the mouthwatering food.
Reluctantly, you face forwards again, and see in front of you a pig-sty. Emma opens the gate, and leads you through. The moment you take your first step into it, your foot sinks through the surface of the mud and doesn’t stop until you are up to your ankle. You push your other foot down, trying to heave your first foot back out. It finally does so, with a disgusting slurping sound, but it’s only then that you realise that your other foot is now just as stuck as the first was. You push your first foot back down into the mud, hoping that somehow the same thing won’t happen a third time around, and it doesn’t! Instead, you lose balance and topple forward, landing on your hands and knees in the thick mud.
“Oh, that’s handy. I thought I was going to have to push you down, but thanks to you being a clumsy idiot, you’ve saved me the trouble!” Emma says. She bends down, unclipping the leash from your collar. “Come on, follow me. You can stay on your hands and knees. Unless you have boots on, it’s much easier if you crawl.”
You crawl through the mud, trying not to let your hands slide out under you and having to pull your knees out with every “step”. Emma walks just ahead of you, keeping her thighs in line with your head. In this moment, you legitimately feel as though you’re an animal, like a dog following its master. It feels so deeply shameful. Just what have they managed to turn you into?
Emma leads you through the gate and then back around until you reach a trough up against the fence. It’s smaller than the water trough you passed by earlier, and sits on the ground. Emma walks over to one side and returns with a large unlabeled bucket, almost the size of a waste bin. She upends the bucket at one end of the trough, filling it with a creamy brown swill.
“There you are, pig. Tuck in. It’s the only food you’re getting today,” Emma says as she puts the bucket back down, “I’ll come back to check up on you after we’ve had our lunch.”
Emma turns and walks away, leaving you alone, inches deep in thick mud, staring down at a trough full of what barely even looks like food. Your stomach rumbles. It’s been a long day already, and you stupidly never thought to have a big breakfast this morning. You lower your head down. Even the act of eating out of a trough on the floor feels so humiliating. You hesitate, and then dip your chin into the lukewarm sludge, slurping some of it into your mouth. It tastes like really bad porridge. Oh well, at least you’re alone now. A bit of peace and quiet at last.
*SHRRRNK!*
You hear a rusty gate being pulled open from behind you, and look back to see Emma holding the gate open for two large pigs. They spot the feeding trough and come trotting over enthusiastically, siding up to you until you are shoulder to shoulder with them. They begin wolfing down the swill at an incredible pace. Suddenly, you are overcome with jealousy – this is YOUR lunch, and it’ll soon be gone unless you start eating it. What looked barely edible a moment ago now feels prized and valuable, and you plunge your face into the dip, sucking it down mouthfuls at a time. The sounds, both from yourself and from the pigs either side of your ears, is horrendous. A binaural cacophony of slurps and burps assaults your ears, but you push through the noise and the flavour until your stomach is satisfied.
Immediately, this lust to fill your stomach is replaced by a horrified shame as you realise what you’ve just done. Somehow that desperation to claim what seemed to be yours had stripped you of all inhibition, and the regret now that your senses are returning hits you harder than waking up after a night getting blackout drunk at a party and remembering what you’d said and done in front of everyone. You belch, and then promptly gag at the smell that it brings up. Your face and shoulders are caked in swill, and lumps of it are still stuck to your teeth. One of the pigs begins to lick your face clean as you kneel there with a thousand yard stare, still completely dumbstruck by what just overcome you.
Your eyes refocus, bringing you back into the present, and you shrug the pig off, but not before it manages to paint a long streak of drool across your face. You look up. The women are sat there, happily enjoying their lunch in front of you. Even though you’re no longer hungry, your eyes well up as a seething envy sets in.
Kat looks up from her food, notices that you’ve finished, and walks over, “Mmmmh! Oohhh!” she moans orgasmically, “This food you bought us is amazing! How was your meal? Wait, you actually ate it?? Oh my god. Hey! You two, come over and look at this!”
Kat waves Abby and Emma over until they are all standing there on the other side of the fance, laughing at you.
“Hahahaha, what the fuck? We did that as a JOKE, you know? You weren’t supposed to eat that stuff, I don’t even know if it’s fit for human consumption!”
“Yeah but look at her, I’m not sure it matters whether it’s good for humans, hahaha!”
The worst part is, their laughter and surprise sound completely genuine. Your eyes tear up even more until you begin to full-on cry as the three women continue to laugh and jeer at what you’ve just done. This feeling of unmitigated disgrace consumes you entirely. It feels euphoric. You have never felt such deep, real shame before in your life as you feel right now. Your eyes shift back out of focus again, but this time into an ecstatic daze as you feel ripple upon ripple of mushy, sinking guilt and embarrassment wash over you. Your hips start to rock back and forth as if thrusting while the tears continue to roll down your cheeks. One of the women throws an apple core into the trough in front of you, and without thinking, you dip back down and start munching away at your dessert, feeling yourself slide even deeper into this heavenly subspace as you play along with their bullying.
A Day at the Farm pt. 5 [Mud Wrestling][Spit]
For the first time since they arrived at your door, the women actually give you some space to think as you kneel there, weeping, covered in mud and pig swill, feeling a wet patch spreading in the crotch of your leotard. Your mind is buzzing. You feel almost as if you are watching yourself in third person. Your hand picks itself up out of the dirt and floats down between your legs almost of its own accord. It lands gently on your crotch, and begins to slide back and forth, slick with mud. You wince and whimper slightly, as if this new sensation were actually a surprise to you.
You begin to frig yourself over your leotard, squeezing your hips around your hand and rocking slightly with each motion. Not that it matters to you, but the other pigs have long since wandered off, leaving you alone in the pigsty, grunting and squealing by yourself each time your hand slides over your most sensitive areas. The gaze of your three mistresses burns into the back of your head, despite everything else still feeling distant and muffled. The memory of the events that just happened, coupled with the self-awareness of how pitiful you must appear to them right now keeps you locked into this daze. Your muscles simultaneously feel tense – locked in a deep-set cringe as you bite your lip and try to hold back the tears – but also paradoxically loose and relaxed as you continue to bask in the glow of this blissful and uninhibited freedom.
After what must have been at least ten minutes, your reality finally begins to drift back into sync with the rest of the universe. Your hand slows down on your crotch, leaving it soaking with more than just mud, but still frustrated and longing for a release. Your grunts and groans give way to gasps and sighs, shallow and turbulent at first as though your body was an aeroplane touching its wheels down in strong crosswinds, before becoming deeper and calmer as the plane finds grip on the asphalt runway and gradually applies its brakes.
A woman’s leg plants itself into the mud beside your head. Something seems off about this leg, but it’s still hard to think straight. A voice rings out in the distance, somehow out of phase with itself, slurred and echoing, almost as if it were underwater. It takes several more seconds before the sound coalesces into something coherent, but when it does, it jolts you back into your head like an alarm clock.
“Hey… hey… hey… HEY!” Abby calls out to you, “You good?”
You blink and shake the remaining haziness from your head, and then nod, “Y-yes, miss Abby. T-thank you.”
Immediately, you feel yourself being launched sideways. You land in the mud, rolling onto your back. Your senses had only just begun returning, but this sudden blow knocks them all back into place vividly. You instantly realise what was odd with her legs – they’re bare just like yours. Not just that, but while you were in your semi conscious reverie she seems to have changed out of her caricature dominatrix outfit and into an equally garish one-piece swimsuit. Abby strides over, stepping one leg over your body, and falls gracefully to her knees, straddling your chest. Still recovering from the whiplash of being snapped out of your subspace, you lie between her legs, panting, staring upwards in fear and respect. She leans forward slightly, and her head dawns out from above her large chest.
“So… this isn’t actually in the plan at all, even the stuff you told us to keep secret from you. This is just total improvisation, but I’ve been having so much fun today I thought I might give you a little something extra. One of my specialities is mud wrestling, not just for clients and shoots but also just as a side hobby. If it’s all good with you, I figured I might give you a first hand introduction to the sport. You in?”
“Uh… s-sure!”
No sooner than the words left your mouth does she lunge headfirst at you. You place an arm up to stop her, but this does nothing to stop her from wrapping herself around your head. You gasp and struggle as her huge breasts press up into your face, enveloping you and making it difficult to breathe. You writhe about, and in your panic manage to knock one of her knees out and to the side, pulling her off balance. This gives you just enough time to wriggle free of her grapple, taking full advantage of the fact that you’re covered in slick mud already.
You bring yourself to your feet, slipping around like a young deer attempting to walk for the first time while Abby picks herself up and rises to her feet with perfect steadiness and balance. For a second you felt a small rush of victory at having managed to stand up, but seeing Abby’s muscular body towering in front of you makes you begin to question whether getting to your feet was really a good decision at all.
“Heh, heh, it’s a shame the other two don’t want to get down and dirty. You’d stand no chance with all three of us on you at the same time. Not that your odds are any better right now!”
With that, Abby winks and then dives at you. You put your hands out, grabbing her wrists, but she draws her arms downwards and inwards, forcing you to let go for fear of being pulled forwards. She brings her arms up again and manages to grab your shoulders, but you recover just in time to knock them away. This game of pulling and pushing and swatting arms carries on for a few seconds, but it’s instantly clear who is more steady. You can barely keep yourself upright as your feet dance and skate around in the mud, while Abby holds firm, hardly moving her feet at all except to close in on you.
Abby continues to move forwards, backing you up further and further. There’s no time to check the ground behind yourself, and seeing as Abby seems to want to keep moving you that way, you begin to imagine the worst. In desperation to turn the tide of the fight, you push her arms to the left and step to her right, hoping that you might be able to get around to her back, or at least create some more space for yourself. Unfortunately, just as you begin to taste the tiniest droplet of hope, you feel Abby spin around, catching one of your arms. She tugs on it, flinging you out and around like she’s performing an Olympic level hammer throw. You feel the centripetal tension in your arm as your body whirls around her.
Miraculously, you keep balance throughout – matching her speed by running at full sprint around her, and then planting your feet wide as Abby comes to the end of her arc. However, you realise you are now in an even more precarious position with your feet splayed out wide either side, and with Abby fully behind you. It’ll take you several seconds to recover from this to a point where you’re able to turn and face Abby, or even to dodge her next move, but that’s time that you don’t have. Abby is quick to punish you, and you feel her whole body slam into you from behind. Your legs, already wide, skid out in either direction in response to this sudden extra weight and momentum. They stretch painfully for a split second as Abby continues to push you down into an involuntary straddle splits. You manage to pull them backwards and behind you, relieving the stretch but giving you no way to slow yourself down. Your arms shoot out in a futile last ditch effort, but they too slide out from under you.
You are weightless for another brief split second before your chest slaps, meteor-impact style, back down into the thick sludge. Abby’s momentum keeps you travelling forwards while your combined body weights push down, creating a burrowing effect as you skid deeper into the mud. You feel the air get knocked out of you, and open your mouth to breathe. Instantly you regret following this instinct – your chin begins to act like a plough. Some of the mud is swept to the sides but most of it becomes caught up in a viscous bow wave that forms, piling up until it spills into your mouth.
Finally, you come to a stop, but Abby’s hands clamp down over your head before you can spit the mud back out. They cup around your head, holding it straight, preventing you from twisting to either side, and pressing you down into the mud. Your mouth and nose are now completely stuffed with filthy, slimy brown sludge, and you still haven’t managed to take a breath since before you bellyflopped down. You panic, further reducing your oxygen supplies. You start to feel a slight burning sensation in your chest.
“Had enough?” Abby taunts, “Go on, just tap out if you have.”
You don’t need to be told twice. Immediately you shoot your right hand out to the side, slapping the mud hard several times. Abby chuckles and rolls off your back. You push down, heaving your face out of the mud, gasping for breath, only to feel Abby playfully faceplant you back into it. Spluttering and choking, you haul yourself out a second time and manage to roll over onto your back, blinded and exhausted. You feel a towel come down, scraping the mud away from your eyes as you attempt to stabilise your breathing. You open your eyes, just in time to see a big glob of phlegm heading towards your face. You flinch away and feel it splatter off your nose, forming gooey strings as it slides off your cheeks.
“Utterly pathetic. Couldn’t you have at least tried to put up a chsllenge? I honestly don’t know why I expected anything better of you, piggy.”
