By Cutieboy90

Sanchez pulled up in front of the Old McGriffith Farm, a dust cloud stirring up from the wheels of his F-250 as it bumped to a halt. Sanchez adjusted his tie and put on his big white hat and stepped out of the cab.

A big Chevy pulled up next to Sanchez. It was supposed to be blue, but the color had long been obscured by layers of dust. A lean muscular cowboy jumped down from the cab.

“Hey Mike,” Sanchez nodded. He and Mike had been buddies for years and worked several jobs together.

“So this is the place, huh?” Mike drawled. “Good chunk of land, no wonder they need help. Generous deal too.”

Sanchez nodded, pulling the ad out of his pocket. “And it’s a two-year contract. Gotta appreciate that job security.”

It was true enough. $60,000/ year salary plus earned bonuses. Healthcare, retirement plan, room and board supplied, and meals too. It was too good a deal to pass up, even if the farm was out in the middle of nowhere…

“Howdy!” An older man in denim overalls waved from the porch. “Y’all must be the guys respondin’ to my work ad. Welcome! I’m Jon McGriffith.” He extended his hand in greeting.

“Yes Sir, that’s us!” Mike shook the farmer’s hand first.

“Well, you both certainly look strong! Excellent! Why dontcha come on in.”

Sanchez and Mike followed farmer McGriffith into the farmhouse. McGriffith offered them drinks, and then sat by a desk.

“Thanks for responding to my ad,” McGriffith said. “Now I can see from your resumes that y’all have a lot of experience, and are definitely qualified. Even so I want to say upfront that the work here is different, more demanding.”

“Thanks, Mr. McGriffith,” Mike cut in. “But we’re all in. We enjoy a challenge, and we work hard. We’d be happy to start today even!”

McGriffith slowly raised his eyebrows. “You sure? I haven’t even shown y’all around…”

“We’re good,” Mike boasted. “My buddy Sanchez and I have done a good amount of farmwork, so we can handle anything you got.”

“Very well then, gents,” McGriffith placed two packets on the desk. “Just sign here, fill out the information, and we’ll get you both to work today!”

Sanchez and Mike eagerly filled out the paperwork, and handed it back to McGriffith.

“Great! I’ll give you an orientation, just follow me.” He lead the cowboys out of the office and out the backdoor. To the right was the large ranch house, clearly the living quarters. To the left were several sheds, greenhouses, and garages. Beyond was an old-fashioned barn, mill, and stable complex facing a hill.

“The fields are just over that hill,” McGriffith explained. “We grow corn here primarily. The greenhouses grow other crops to feed and sustain the farm. We are completely self-sufficient here, we grow all our own food, we have solar electricity, and of course a lot of manual labor. Now this is where you’ll be working…” He opened the door of the stable.

Two large, very muscular ranch hands waved down from the rafters, working on an air duct.

“Those two tend to the horses. We have four stallions, but they’re out in the fields right now.” McGriffith continued through the stables to another open area, with feeding troughs, and shower stalls. “And the cows are just over here…”

“What the-?” Sanchez and Mike stood stunned at the sight before them. There were five naked men strapped over carts! They were lined up in a row facing the open wall, looking out at a small yard. Sanchez had worked on enough dairy farms to identify the milking machines each man was attached to, as well as the electric probes stuffed in each of their presented butts.

As the bewildered cowboys approached the line, they could see that each cart had a number from one to five. Two of the men had their hands tied behind their backs, and a chest harness with a strap toward the ceiling held their bodies in a tight arch. The others had their hands down the sides of the carts, in an all-fours position. All the men had their hands locked in heavy duty fist mitts, and were gagged with big red ball gags, their chins all streaming with their gag-induced slobber.

“Animals all have their jobs here,” McGriffith explained, as if nothing was wrong. “The Cows, obviously, are milked, and expected to reach both a daily quota and a weekly quota. Every month, the individual Cow with the highest production earns the rank of ‘Bull,’ which has a few extra privileges and a bonus. The Bull will help in the field for plowing or harvest time, and may be allowed to breed with the lowest-producing Cow.”

McGriffith paused. “Ya see, the farm here makes a lot of profit selling man-spunk on the black market. The Cows make up the bulk of that enterprise, and demand is always high. Which is what y’all are here for.”

“What. The fuck. Is this!?” Mike spat after a stunned silence. “I ain’t going to be livestock on this perverted freakshow!”

“Ah ah, but you signed a legally binding contract to work here for the next two years. Very eagerly, I might add.” McGriffith reminded him.

“This shit won’t hold up in court,” Mike yelled. “We’re out of here!”

“Nope. You signed away those rights. It was all there in the contract. Now if you’re concerned about your physical health, I assure you we take very good care of our livestock.”

“I. Ain’t. LIVESTOCK!” Mike’s face was red with fury. “You… This.. Is SICK!”

“So what if we don’t?” Sanchez asked, still too shocked to form any sort of argument.

“You will,” McGriffith said plainly. “Or you’ll be spending a lot of time as the Pig.” He gestured into the yard to a figure wearing what looked like a pink Michelin man costume, wallowing in a mud puddle by the fence. The man was forced to crawl on his knees and elbows, and he had a pink curly tail butt plug. A pink head harness with ears on the top held both a nose hook and a big pink ballgag which contorted his face and reduced him to labored grunts. Sanchez and Mike stared in horrified fascination as the ‘pig’ struggled to crawl out of the mud, his every movement a marathon of effort.

“Pig is the lowest rank, and is the punishment for any slacking or disobedience. It isn’t officially a full-time position, it just goes to the poorest performers. The Pig is kept in that heavy padded suit, and spends the days doing nothing. He’s stuffed with the biggest plug, kept in a chastity cage, and the restraints make it very difficult to move around. The Horses are instructed to piss in that corner of the yard, which forms the mud puddle the Pig rolls around in to keep cool. After a couple of weeks, the Pig is always ready to return to his normal work… Right now that’s one of the Donkeys. They’ve been trading the role between them, because the mill needs two Donkeys. With one being a Pig, the other can’t keep up with the work, and so the Donkey becomes the Pig, Pig becomes a Donkey, and the cycle continues until someone else fucks up worse.” McGriffith gave Mike a particularly keen look.

After a long moment of silence, Mike spat on the ground.

“There ain’t. No way. In fuckin’ HELL. I’m gonna be-!” Mike turned on his spurs and stomped toward the door. “Don’t care how much you pay, I ain’t so desperate to humiliate myself like this. Nothin’s going up my ass. No one’s sellin’ my junk. And no-”

The two tall, broad-shoulders ranch hands from earlier appeared in the doorway and grabbed Mike, holding him in a chokehold until his face turned purple. He sputtered, gasping for breath.

McGriffith stepped up, a cruel smirk on his lips. “Now now,” he drawled. “You are goin’ to stay. An’ you will produce for me. Both of you will. But you, mister… Well, you won’t enjoy yourself quite so much…” The farmer gestured to the Pig for emphasis, then nodded to the two burly ranch hands holding Mike. They carried Mike out of the barn.

Sanchez was frozen, barely uttering a sound of protest as his buddy Mike was dragged away. He turned his head, his gaze switching from the miserable Pig to the five Cows in their row, the machines sucking away at their cocks.

McGriffith patted Sanchez on the shoulder.

“So what’ll it be, partner? The easy way, I assure you you’ll come to enjoy? Or the hard way, like your friend?”

Sanchez gulped. “What’ll you do with him?”

McGriffith smirked.

“Now don’t you worry your pretty head. He’ll be out here producing just like you soon enough. So?”

Sanchez’s mind raced. He knew he had no choice… He nodded.

“Good boy,” McGriffith groped Sanchez’s butt and guided him to a stall. “Put all your clothes in that plastic bag there, and we’ll get you ready. My men will take care of everything else.”

Sanchez did as instructed, stripping down quickly until he was buck naked in front of his new employer. Owner, he realized. He was handed a thick leather collar, which he buckled on himself. McGriffith shook his head with a smile, and tightened the collar a bit. He slid a padlock through the buckle and placed the key in a small plastic bag, which he sealed in with Sanchez’s clothes.

Another handsome cowboy rolled over a cart, just like the ones the other men were restrained to. Sanchez nervously stepped up to the edge. He was bent over the padded surface, feeling more vulnerable then he’d ever felt before as his legs and waist were strapped to the table. His knees were slightly wider than shoulder width, exposing his most intimate areas. Bent over like this, he knew he looked like the other cows. He felt his pulse quicken and his breath start to catch.

“There there, that’s a good boy. It’s alright, stud.” The handsome cowboy spoke low and soft, soothing Sanchez as the straps tightened around him. He was helplessly strapped and locked in the all-fours position over the cart now. Sanchez felt his nuts being fondled and groped.

“He’s a fine one,” McGriffith drawled. “Nice heft here. He’ll be a good producer, maybe even a bull with these.”

A blush burned its way over Sanchez’s face. He was proud of his body, he knew he was well-endowed, but wasn’t used to being admired quite like this. He felt his cock grow as he was fawned over, touched, and stroked by McGriffith’s skilled hands and the handsome cowboy still strapping him down.

“O-oh…!” Sanchez let out a moan as his cock was suddenly pushed into a tight, slick tube. He involuntarily started to hump into it as much as the straps would allow. He could feel the tube being secured in place.

The handsome cowboy petted Sanchez’s head and neck.

“Just relax, stud,” he said in his low gentle voice. “Just relax…” He held a red ballgag up to Sanchez’s lips. “Open up now.”

Sanchez hesitated. The ball was bigger than his own fist… He looked pleadingly at the handsome cowboy, who just smiled.

“Open up,” he said again gently. Sanchez felt his lip quiver. Losing all freedom was a lot to take in… The handsome cowboy leaned in closer, his broad hand caressing the back of Sanchez’s neck.

“I know it’s scary,” he whispered. “But cows like you have no need to speak. You only need to ‘moo.’ Go on, sexy. Moo for me.” The cowboy’s lips were just a breath away. Sanchez lifted his head, giving the cowboy a deep kiss.

“Mmmmmmmmmmmmm…” Sanchez moaned into the cowboy’s sweet mouth.

The cowboy chuckled, kissing him back with a soft moan.

“That’s it,” he whispered. “Moo for me, stud.”

Sanchez kissed harder. “MMMMMMM…!” He moaned louder as the cowboy returned the kiss. “MMMMMM!! MmmmmmMMMOOOOOOO!!”

“Good boy! Come on, moo for me again!” The cowboy drove his tongue down Sanchez’s throat.

“MMMOOOOOO…!” Sanchez squeezed his eyes shut as he kissed his cowboy captor as hard and roughly as he could, his moans growing in volume and taking on a distinct bovine quality.

“Very nice,” the cowboy pulled back, catching his breath. “I like the way you moo, you sexy beast.” He caressed Sanchez’s cheek. “You’re a real cutie you know. Beefy body, thick tool. Great kisser. I’m glad you’re here.”

Sanchez blushed again, and smiled up at the handsome cowboy. He opened his mouth to reply, when suddenly the thick tip of a probe was shoved against his hole!

“AAAAAAACCCKKKKKK…!!!” Sanchez’s mouth was immediately stuffed with the ballgag, the handsome cowboy pouncing on the opportunity and tightly locking the buckle behind Sanchez’s head. Meanwhile at his other end, the heavily lubed probe had been shoved in all at once. All seven inches of it, with its hefty soda can girth. Sanchez was seeing stars as his body tried to push it out. But it was to no avail; like the huge gag in his mouth, the probe in his ass was quickly secured in place with a locking strap.

Sanchez’s abdomen spasmed around the huge probe. It was easily the biggest thing he’d ever had up there. “Ughhhhh..!!” He choked out a breathless whine as old McGriffith flipped the switches that started the milker and the electric current to the probe. Despite the shock and discomfort of the ordeal, Sanchez’s cock hadn’t lost any of its hardness. Overwhelmed by the sensations, Sanchez began to see spots.

A cool damp washcloth dabbed at his forehead. The handsome cowboy quickly came into focus.

“Huhhhhh..?” Sanchez groaned.

“Easy there, stud.” The cowboy drawled. “You’re doin’ real good so far. The first round is always a shock, but ya did good. Only blacked out for a couple seconds.”

“And got a nice big load too,” McGriffith whistled from behind. “This one’s gonna be a big producer.”

Sanchez could feel the tube still sucking on his cock, and the tickle of electricity against his prostate. He twisted in his bonds, involuntarily trying to stop the stimulation on his sensitive post-orgasm genitals. “Ughhh!! UUUUHHHHHH!!!” He bellowed into his gag.

He wanted it to stop. He needed it to stop. But the cowboy just patted his shoulder and made no move toward the switches.

The agony seemed to last forever. Like his dick was being stroked by a rock tumbler filled with gravel. Sanchez snorted and huffed and hollered through his gag, but his dick remained hard. And the hints of pleasure slowly began to seep through the pain… And almost as suddenly, Sanchez began to hump into the tube, ready for round two.

“Good boy,” the cowboy whispered in Sanchez’s ear. “We’ll let you get settled in then.” The handsome cowboy kissed the top of Sanchez’s head, and left with old McGriffith, who gave Sanchez’s beefy bubble butt a playful squeeze as he passed.

“… Number Six here’s gonna make us a lot of money, I can tell.”

“He’ll be popular for sure. Bull material too, with those arms.”

“Maybe he’ll make up for his friend as well… Let’s go see.”

Sanchez could only hear the men’s footsteps fade away. He looked out at the field he and his fellow Cows faced. It was just a simple fenced-in grassy yard, with the exception of the mudpit in the far corner where the Pig still wallowed. As he watched, two figures jogged into view on the outside of the fence.

“They must be two of the Horses,” Sanchez thought.

The Horses were both wearing harnesses and high collars of black leather. Their hands were encased in mitts and secured behind their backs, forcing their muscular pecs out in a proud fashion. Long tails trailed from their backsides, no doubt attached to plugs. Both of them had visibly throbbing erections that bounced heavily as they jogged up to the fence. They stood, shifting awkwardly for a moment. Then, one after the other, they started pissing through the fence. The Pig rolled and slipped. His flailing to avoid the hot rank jets only served to mix it into the earth and dig himself deeper into the mud. The Horses shook the last drops from their cocks, and jogged away, leaving the Pig alone again.

Sanchez felt himself getting close again. Watching the firm, lithe Horses jogging away, their glutes pumping and flexing, their big cocks thumping between their legs…

“Mph.. Mmph.. Mmmph.. MmmPHHHHHHHHHHH…!!!”

“MMOOOOOOOOOOO..!! MMMmm…”

Sanchez came simultaneously with the Cow next to him. The thick collar around his neck prevented from turning his head much, but he could see the other Cow was restrained in the same position as himself. He had green eyes, light brown hair, and a slim muscular frame. His hair was matted with sweat and a long string of drool stretched to the floor from his stubbled chin. He squeezed his eyes shut and sobbed a couple times as his body bucked from overstimulation.

Sanchez wondered how long he’d been here, as he watched the sweat trickle down the man’s face and join the torrent of drool flowing from his ballgag. The two locked eyes for a moment, before the other man turned his gaze back to the field.

Sanchez gulped. His own mouth was dry, probably from nerves. The gag was feeling sticky in his mouth, and his tongue and lips felt glued to it. But at least he wasn’t a gross drooling mess like the other guy…

Suddenly the doors slammed open, and the sound of cart wheels echoed in the barn. Metal clanked and squealed, and boots thudded heavily. Sanchez turned his head as the cart was wheeled up to his right. It was Mike!

“…See yer friend here is much more comfortable. His time here will be far more enjoyable.” McGriffith gestured toward Sanchez.

“MMAARGGHHH!”

“Still don’t get it, do ya? Well ah reckon you’ll change yer tune quick.”

The handsome cowboy lubed another probe, and worked it up Mike’s ass.

“Don’t clench!” The cowboy barked, giving Mike’s ass a firm slap. “We really don’t want to have to call the doctor.”

Mike tried to stay stoic, his breathing was fast and shallow. His mouth was quickly dripping with foamy saliva froth as he hyperventilated.

Soon the probe had been worked in and locked with a retaining harness just like Sanchez. McGriffith nodded and the handsome cowboy reached up and flipped the switch for Mike’s cart.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!” Mike’s eyes bugged out as his electrodes buzzed to life. Sanchez could tell the power was set much higher than his own. Mike’s punishment for being difficult, he thought.

In truth, Mike’s punishment was far more severe than simply higher power levels. Sanchez could see his buddy’s arms were twisted tightly behind his back. Like the rest of the Cows, Mike was ballgagged, but his gag was hollow like a wiffle ball. Sanchez noticed the gag had a couple of beads inside, making a distinct bleating warble with any and every vocalization. On either side of the gag were two long metal spikes, like the full-cheek bits sometimes used for horses. Mike wouldn’t be able to put his head down because of the cheeks. Not that he could, as the top spikes were tied to his toes, forcing him into a tight hogtie-like position on the cart. Mike’s chest was exposed, and both his nipples were clamped. Wires leading from each clamp indicated that they too were electrified.

But the biggest difference Sanchez could see was that Mike’s cock was locked in a tight metal cage. The handsome cowboy knelt down and ran a thin tube from the collection container up toward the end of the chastity cage and secured it in place.

“Ready,” the cowboy nodded to McGriffith. The sadistic old farmer smirked and cuffed the side of Mike’s head.

“Congrats, boy. You’re our Goat now. Always angry an’ always horny. Every one of yer orgasms will be painful and unsatisfyin’ as will yer restraints. Maybe in two years when we renew the contract, you’ll be more cooperative.”

“NNAAAAAAAA UGHH!!”

“Yeah yeah,” McGriffith waved dismissively as he turned and sauntered away.

Mike huffed, frothy drool streaming down his chin. He was soaked in sweat, every muscle burned from stress and exhaustion. His cock dripped slowly and constantly into the tube, receiving no stimulation or even suction of any sort. Sanchez couldn’t imagine having to cum from trans-rectal electro stimulation with his dick locked in a cage. Poor Mike was in for a very unpleasant time indeed.

Sanchez looked at his friend. Mike avoided eye contact, but he was red in the face as he huffed and drooled while his caged cock dripped beneath him.

“UHHHHHHGH…!” Another load. Sanchez’s heart pounded and his chest heaved, but it was nothing compared to the ache and throb endured by his nether regions. How many times had he cum already? He bit down hard on the ballgag stuffing his mouth as his cock burned from sensitivity. It’ll pass, it’ll pass, Sanchez told himself. It’ll pass…

This time as the pain subsided, Sanchez felt a tickle on his lower lip. Beset with increasing dread, he was aware that his tongue now slipped easily over the surface of the gag. His mouth wasn’t dry, which meant… No. No no no!

“OOOOOOHHH…!!” He moaned around his gag, splashing drool down his chin. This was disgusting! He had to stop it somehow. Sanchez held the ball tighter with his lips, perhaps that would prevent a waterfall like the other miserable Cows, or a rabid foam like Mike… He sniffed in disdain. His mouth was filling up, and he’d need to swallow in order to breathe. But he couldn’t. The damn ball gag was so big it made swallowing impossible! The muscles of his lips quivered from fatigue. No, he’d power through.

Sanchez stifled a moan as he fired another round into the milker. He was holding his breath almost as hard as he clenched the probe with his butt and the ball gag with his now-rapidly tiring jaw. All he needed to do was relax and he’d be just another animal in the barn. Hot tears soaked his eyelashes as his cheek muscles finally quit, sending his mouthful of spit crashing to the floor.

“UGHH!” Defeated, Sanchez hung his head and watched the wet strings stretch to the ground. Sometimes the stream from his top lip would join the stream from his lower lip, and there would be a long loud splat as the newly formed torrent rushed to the floor. Then the streams would separate, dripping and dropping independently for a few minutes. His chin was soaked, and he could feel a trickle starting to run down his neck toward his chest. Sanchez was exhausted and he lay limply on his cart, mindlessly drooling and letting the machines continue their work.

The sun moved across the yard slowly turning the sky gold. Inside the milking barn was a cacophony of orgasmic grunts, mechanical clunking, and squeaking vinyl. Sanchez, Cow Number Six now, looked back out at the field where the Pig struggled and the Horses worked beyond the fence. His senses drowned in the climactic ‘moos’ of his fellow Cows, and the frustrated ‘bleats’ of the Goat next to him. His own breathing grew heavy, as the constant tug of the milking tube and the hum of the enormous probe stretching his hole edged him toward release. Just another climax, one of countless and countless still yet to come.

The End