“Well…that’s one way to keep ‘em down on the farm…” (67)
Heath did not know what to do with his son. Dylan had been caught three times now giving handjobs in the boys bathroom at school, only once for cigarettes. He wore his sister’s jeans, walked with a swish, and spoke with a campy tone. Frankly, Heath thought it was an embarrassment to have a teenage son acting in such a loose way, not a manly, proper way. He was horrified to learn how Dylan had been not only experimenting with men instead of the ladies. He might have tolerated this infarction until Dylan left for college, but his son’s grades were slipping. A cousin named Joe on his wife’s side owned a farm, and after some talk, Dylan’s parents sent him there for re-education.
Hard work and distance from confusing media imagery would align Dylan right. Having proper, heterosexual male role models would teach him how to chase girls and bed em well too.
Dylan initially hated the farm. He had to get up super early. The work gave his soft hands blisters, his fair skin burned, and unflattering bootcut jeans replaced his beloved cigarette jeans in a rainbow of colors. Also the chafing! His poor balls.
Dylan was a smart kid though – he couldn’t stop working unless he was providing another service in exchange, and began to conspire to put out. He didn’t have to lift a finger though. The other men sensed Dylan’s the natural need to submit and please other men, to seek their approval. Their leader, a man named Rich, asked Dylan to join him for a piss one afternoon. Afterwards, Rich didn’t put his cock away – he played with it until he had Dylan’s attention, then began to masturbate right in front of the young man. It was the perfect bait and the young lad was helpless being so close to a hard cock after not having one for weeks.
Oh how he missed the taste of cock on his tongue! Sucking a cock with the scent of sweat and Earth around his nostrils drove Dylan wild. Word spread quickly of the young twink’s services and soon the blisters on Dylan’s hands healed and he was back to wearing tank tops again. All the hands on the farm knew the signal – they just had to unbutton their pants and the twink would come right over to kiss their neglected lips, caress their bulging pecs, and empty their full balls down his tight throat. So much easier to work in the hot sun with a drained cock and a happy buzz.
It wasn’t two weeks later when Rich put the claim on Dylan’s ass by squeezing it in front of the crew, and by the end of the summer the newcomer lost his virginity bent over a blanket spread on a hay bale. His ass became one popular attraction. When Dylan decided to stay for the new school year, Rich made another power move and locked Dylan’s cock up good. No point in him being distracted by his own cock when there’s so many men to service; the hornier the better right? Even Joe gave in the lure of having a slut around the farm.
Heath assumed all was going well, but when he saw Dylan again he was shocked – the man had become a fell fledged faggot. He did look healthier, stronger, and practically glowing. Plus all those men had such compliments to say about his work effort and Joe breathlessly explained how high morale was at the farm . Heath was at a loss. He cut his son loose and left him in the care of men who appreciated boys like Dylan. Dylan wouldn’t exchange his stable of studs for anything, even if that cage only came off a couple times a year. It was heaven.
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Post is fictional; models are Damien Crosse and Chris Porter. More images are here, including some piss play and sex.