Like most farm days, this one began early. Shosharra woke me up
at dawn by a warm, empty spot on the bed and a tantalizingly served
breakfast. Shosharra, leaning over me, adorned only by her natural
talents, struck home a distinction many have made before but few
really get to experience: that nakedness means defenselessness, but
nudity is art. It was all in the attitude, and she had it. Once breakfast was done, the work began. My jobs consisted of
cleaning out stables (I was no stranger to this); resetting and
checking the automatic feeders; exercising and cleaning and combing as
many horses as I could reasonably get to; and a couple of random jobs
involving heavy lifting that required two people. Shosharra was a
skilled taskmaster; always returning from the fields with another job
ready just as I finished and was ready, ordering me with her rich,
mellow voice and simple English. She had started the day with work on
her irrigation trenches; now that she had me on the horses she could
do some of the thorough work that needs getting done every once in a
while. That took her through lunch; whereupon she ran a quick weed
spray on part of the cotton and came back to care for the pigs, of
which she had four, and happened to be caring for another two pregnant
sows of a neighbors. Between eight and nine hours of this got me pretty well
exhausted, and hungry in that way you are after a hard day's work.
You're desperately hungry, but you don't end up eating as much as you
would if you were just bored-hungry after a day reading a book and
watching television, and you don't 'stuff yourself,' you just eat and
stop. There was no television on the entire farm, either, she had a
shortwave radio for news, and that is just the thing to make you avoid
wasting your life. Rest, of course, was not something I was to receive for some time
yet. Shosharra got that intriguing and beautiful smile meaning she
had something planned, and led me out to the barn. She was correct in
guessing that I wanted a shower after all my work, and she gave it to me; beginning by giving me knee pads, strapping a thick, heavy, wide leather collar
around my neck and attaching nylon straps with rubber-leather-nylon webbing
around my wrists and lower thighs (just above the knees), the wrists to
the underside of the collar and the thighs to the wrists, so that I couldn't
pull my hands far from my head, my thighs far from my wrists, locking me
in a head lowered, hobbled crawl on my hands and knees. She laughed then, only for a moment, and if it had been anyone
else, had the laugh not been absolutely free of any mocking tone, I
don't know what I would have done. Instead, it was a musical slide,
like droplets of water bouncing from a tuned tin roof, infectious
enough so that I laughed too; allowing her to insert the long, hollow,
tubular gag and fasten its straps about my head, it laying on my
tongue and yet still allowing me to breathe through it. She pulled me
into a stall only slightly bigger than myself, and clipped my bonds to
the sides. Where before I could have touched my hands together, and
perhaps gotten out of the webbing, I couldn't now; I could move inches
in any direction and so not get stiff, but I was otherwise helpless. The cold water didn't sting; she sat astride me at first while
she shampooed my short, curly hair and soaped and washed my sweaty
face from behind, laying on my back and gripping my sides with legs
that I knew could guide a horse expertly. She continued thoroughly,
pausing to kiss my neck now and again, and giving special attention
and thoroughness to my cock and balls much as I had had to with the
horse on the previous day. Then she lifted off of me momentarily, and
I heard her intake of breath as she again settled on top of me,
farther back this time, holding on to me strongly as she began to
gently push the soapy strap-on into me, further each time, cleaning me
out. From there, she used the longer but thinner anal probe she had
used yesterday, to lubricate me well. Finally, she splashed buckets
of slightly soapy water over me, water that she had already used to
wash the pigs earlier that day, as a rinse. It wasn't much of a crawl to their pen, and I made it with my
head down and my mouth full. I was ignored momentarily, then the
smallest female spotted me and alerted the others. I learned
firsthand over the next hour that Shosharra had washed them and their
pen with equal care as she had me, as the social order of the area and
my place within it was made clear through much snuffling, butting,
rubbing against and good-natured pushing. Things had settled down
from their previous excitement for some moments when Shosharra gave an
order to the male, who was only a bit smaller than me in my kneeling
position. He trundled over to me and began good-naturedly whuffling
at me, and rubbing me for a bit, seemingly making introductions, and
then the direction of his pushing grew more focussed, intending for me
to head towards the corner. Shoshara advised me, with her wonderful
voice, to crawl a bit towards the corner, and indeed, it caused a
marked change in his behavior. He became far more enthusiastic in his
jostling, and since I had begun moving moving, his weight quickly pushed
me to the corner with him following directly behind. A sniffling, and he lurched, or crawled atop me, his weight
pressing down on my thankfully padded knees and almost shoving my head
forward into the wall of the pen. His weight on top of me arched my
back downward and spread my knees, lowering me for him as he began to
press up against me. It was not long before he found his way into my
pre-lubricated asshole, the tip of his cock having a very odd texture
to it, not at all like the cock-head on the strap-on. He continued to
push atop me in twisting jerks until he was in as far as he would go
and continued to push, shoving in and then relaxing long enough for me
to return to my hands-and-knees position, my head no longer in danger
of hitting the wall of the pen; his cock, long as the anal probe and
thicker than the strap-on, sliding halfway out only for another thrust.
I could feel him breathe raggedly through his stomach on my back as I
myself struggled to breathe under his weight and his thrusts and
through the long, hollow, tubular gag held in by the straps around my
neck and head. Finally he pulsed within me, continuing to thrust,
then slowing and laying on me until he finally pulled out of my
dripping, wet ass with a squelch. I slowly began to get my breathing
under control through the gag, my ass covered with his come but
gratefully empty, when Shosharra ordered me over to her. With a lubricated hand, she rubbed my ass and then my unabashedly
engorged cock and balls with the mixtures, so I was not only
lubricated but smelled very much of sexual male pig. I managed to
look up at her by craning my next even though it was attached to my
hands to see her smile and say, "Well, now you've learned first hand
how it's done. It's time for you to do your teacher proud." She
pointed me at the median-sized sow, and I began the process from the
other side. I introduced myself as I had had done to me, and the sow
immediately caught olfactory wind of my intent, pushing back against
me eagerly throughout my introductions and getting visibly excited.
She didn't make it easy for me to push her over to the corner, but she
went willingly, moving a half pace with every strong nudge until we were
in similar, though reversed circumstances as before. I pushed up with my wrists, launching myself onto her and sliding
my chest onto her smooth back. I spread my arms around her as the
hooved limbs had spread about me, and this spread my legs slightly, as
my wrists were still tied to my knees. Still breathing only through
the hollow tube gag as I rested my chest on her back, stroking and
rubbing her sides with my hands, my well-lubricated cock found her
entrance already wet, and I began sliding in and out, making longer
thrusts than I had received. Whereas the mare yesterday whose back I had been tied across
seemed only to be tolerating my presence, the sow I now mounted was
enthusiastic, eager and squealing with pleasure, pushing back against
me and gripping me on each thrust with her tight, muscular vagina. I
was wet with the cum of the previous pig, sliding within her fully,
pressing my wet balls up against her with every stroke, increasing in
speed until I could not withstand the continuous stroking against the
mixed lubrications and the powerful gripping any longer, and exploded
pumping, into her. I laid atop her exhausted, trying to breathe through the gag as
she gripped me pulsingly and pushed against me, filled to overflowing
with the mixed cum and her own wetness. I eventually managed to
retreat off of her, and crawl into my own corner to rest, as my own
mounter was now doing. Shosharra gave me only a moment before
attaching a leash to me and clipping me back in the bathing stall,
where she washed me again, this time with quick skill, cleaning me out
and still keeping me tied. I have mentioned before that the type of woman I obey
unquestioningly is one who makes me feel that if she desired to force
me to do what she asks, she could manage it after a good struggle. To
this point, I had mainly assumed this from her strength that I had
felt so far, but now she proved it beyond a doubt, actually picking me
up out of the shower-tub and carrying me over her shoulder to the
house, to put me on the bed, on my back, still hobbled and gagged. It
clearly wasn't easy, but she didn't stagger even once. She spread my hobbled arms and legs and attached them to the bed,
and then, only then did she take out the gag. Shosharra let me relax,
bound, and let me breathe freely for a time, massaging me with her
body, lying atop me. Then she smiled, and with a kiss, said, "Now,
it's time to see if your mouth learned anything yesterday." She
reversed herself, lowering herself onto my mouth and taking me into
her own. Far too soon, and yet not nearly soon enough after that, she
released the straps holding me spread out under her and uprighted me.
The time until night came was spent proving to her that I truly knew
the lesson I had been taught and practiced, until she acknowledged
breathlessly that I had learned my trade well; and tied me back upon
