A Day on the Farm

By Cutieboy90

Come to the farm, they said.

The fresh air will do you some good, they said.

“And why the hell did I listen!?” Mitch huffed his annoyance through the wad of socks taped in his mouth. His breath visibly steamed in the crisp morning air. He glared watching each breath form and dissipate.

Mitch was pigtied with his wrists tied to his ankles in front of him. It forced him to curl up on himself and had quickly grown uncomfortable. The cold, hard ground he was sitting on didn’t help matters either. For now, Mitch rolled onto his back and stared up at the clouds. He figured by the light in the sky that he’d been bound for a few hours…

He’d been wearing boots, Carhartt overalls, gloves, a heavy coat, and a few layers of shirts expecting to be doing some farm work. Now all those rugged clothes hindered any chance he might have had to escape. The thick leather work gloves, for example, now as restrictive as any fistmitts he’d ever worn. His thermal undershirt squeezed his chest, pressing his piercings against his nips. Wired as they were, the irritation only served to make Mitch hornier and more frustrated than he already was.

Horny. The word didn’t do the feeling justice, at least for Mitch. He’d been locked in a tight metal chastity cage for the better part of a year now, with no release and none in sight. His poor cock strained against the cold steel bars, responding to the pressured feedback from his equally trapped nips. But all Mitch could do was stay still in his unyielding pigtie and lay on his back like a bitch and wait for whatever crazy things his friends had planned.

That morning, Mitch had arrived early, having been voluntold to help out on his weekend off. In the dark early morning hours, his antagonizing captor Skylar and dom friend Josh had led him out to a distant field “where he would start working.” Predictably, they’d jumped him, tied him up, and left him to struggle. The soil here was hard and rough from its high clay content. Even through his thick coat and work overalls, Mitch could feel the lumpy uneven ground pressing up at him.

“MMMPH!” Mitch roared in his gag. He struggled to sit back up, rocking his body forward. Even that simple task was proving difficult. Mitch felt himself break a sweat under all his layers. “FMMMPH!” It didn’t make any difference, once sitting up he’d just want to roll onto his back again.

Rolling onto his side for a brief spell, Mitch examined his bonds for the thousandth time. By now he knew there was no escape for him, but it was something to look at other than the gray sky and dirt. The bright yellow rope was a heavy-duty nylon with a diamond weave. And it was thick; 7/16-inch or slightly over 11 millimeters. It was coiled snugly around Mitch’s wrists in a simple double column tie and secured to his ankles. The knots were out of reach but were also taped over with orange duct tape. Skylar was a true rope master… Mitch groaned as his trapped cock fought the tight steel bars of its prison, like a psych patient having his inevitable hourly meltdown. He closed his eyes in frustration, trying to will himself soft.

Hours passed. Clouds rolled overhead, bringing a light drizzle. Mitch could feel the earth dampen beneath him. He sniffed, watching the droplets roll off the layers of tape.

“HMMPHH…” Mitch hauled himself into a sitting position. If he strained his neck up, he could see over the mounds of dirt striping the field. In the distance was the road back to town. No buildings in sight, except a cell tower and a few electrical poles. The other direction…

“FUUUGHMP.” Two familiar figures were heading towards him: Skylar and Josh. Their bright plastic windbreakers made them hard to miss against the drab colors of this overcast day.

Mitch growled as the pair sauntered up. Skylar leaned on his shovel and took a long gulp from his water bottle. Josh brushed some dried mud off the hem of his Levi’s.

“Well…” Skylar said after looking around the empty plot of dirt. “I see you didn’t do any work here. Tsk tsk. Guess you’ll have to make up for it some other way.”

“FMMM HUMPH!” Mitch spat through his gag as he was treated to a view of the big bulge Josh had for him. His cock twitched unhappily in its tight confines; Mitch actually had a bigger dick than Josh. Or at least he used to before Skylar locked him up.

“Heh,” Josh smirked at Skylar. “Pity. I was hoping to use that mouth, but I don’t want him to bite my dick off. Still got a lot of fight.”

“Yes…” Skylar’s eyes twinkled with sadistic mischief. “But that’ll be gone by the end of the day.” Skylar pushed Mitch onto his back, making him squirm angrily like a trapped turtle.

“MMPPHM, MPH HHMMPH!” Mitch protested as he felt his backside being caressed with a shovel blade. “HMMMPH!!”

“Nice. Big ripe pumpkin ready for harvest…” Josh whistled, paddling Mitch lightly with the shovel. “Let’s get him back to the barn. I was promised some relief after all that work.”

“And I’m always a man of my word,” Skyler turned his shovel in his hand. “He isn’t plugged, so he’ll be nice and tight for you, buddy. Come on.”

Mitch seethed as Skylar and Josh threaded their shovels under Mitch’s knees and hoisted him up like a captured animal.

“MMMMMPH!” The wood handles dug painfully into Mitch’s legs as his full weight was brought to bear. He grabbed the handle and did his best to support some of his own weight, but it was awkward with his wrists tied facing inwards.

Skylar chuckled evilly, but he said nothing as he and Josh carried their prize back across the empty field. Somehow, Mitch knew his day on the farm was only just beginning.

The End

Metal would like to thank the author, Cutieboy90, for this story!

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3 thoughts on “A Day on the Farm”

  1. fucking hot, please more, hope they hold him tied as their fuck suck pig, reduce his air, destroy his brain cells, please more, great work

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