Asstr Farm

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Asstr Farm
You have been redirected to https://www.asstr.org/~YLeeCoyote/FarmGirlCharge.htm which is the correct URL to use. ☺   ☺   ☺
The following story is fiction about unexpected family CP. The story contains a scene of a spanking. If this subject is offensive, uninteresting or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please leave now.
“Is what happens in this story possible or even plausible?” is a question that may be fairly asked. I think it is but not for everyone. It could happen if the bottoms are subs and especially if previously conditioned to submit. In any case, this is fantasy fiction so just enjoy even if it is not to your liking.
I was inspired by the image that I found at https://64.media.tumblr.com/186a80c3bb484930a92054ccf3759817/ef8f0b904d0d948e-66/s640x960/59e5d81377ae2559b5cd79302d3884cc02938c81.jpg Mouseover to enlarge and click to download.
This work is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission. Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice.
The author would appreciate your comments – pro and con, including constructive criticism, and suggestions. Please take a moment to email.
Click to have ​Metric units​ ​American/English units​ used in the story.
“Today is the operation.” Ma reminded everyone at the breakfast table. “The special doctor will deal with Pa and I’ll give him support. Clover (the older girl) will come with us to take care of the shopping and we hope to get back before dark. It’s at least a two-half hour drive to the City and the same back. We expect that you three will do everything like you should or else.” Ma did not have to elaborate for Zeke and Silas, the two boys who were twenty and twenty-one, and Daisy, their fifteen-year-old younger sister, had heard it all before. There was plenty of work on a farm all year around and Ma could swing that strap as hard as Pa could. The cows were the main thing but there was also filling the woodshed and the never-ending repairs for the boys. Daisy had to take care of the chickens and all the kitchen work.
It was an hour after Daisy had taken the afternoon snack out for the boys (she called them that just like their Ma did even though they were older than she) that she went to the barn to retrieve the dishes after feeding the chickens again. The boys were not there but behind it lollygagging and smoking rather than doing the loft floor repair as they were supposed to be. “Boys we need to have discussion about your being naughty unless you rather wait until Ma returns. I’ll be inside.” she yelled at them.
Less than five minutes later Zeke and Silas were standing in the house. They were barefoot having left their mucky boots outside and just wearing their bib overalls and T-shirts appropriate for work.
It was not what the boys expected. Their little sister looked different. She seemed transformed. She was sitting in the spanking chair . That was the chair that Ma always sat on when she was ready to spank them since they were just little boys. She was not smiling but had a very stern expression and looked very confident. “We can’t have you lazy boys lollygagging with Pa not being able to work for a while after his operation. Now drop your overalls.”
They hesitated. “I’ve seen both of you naked many times.” then she added “And you’re not hung like horses so get a move on.”
They needed some more encouragement. “DO IT NOW!” she said in an authoritative voice that they had never heard before but that was more than riveting. They were falling under her spell and each reached for their overalls buckles and opened them. Their overalls then fell to the floor leaving them naked except for their T-shirts. They clasped their hands in front of their crotches to hide their privates.
Daisy stared directly at Zeke as she pointed to her lap. She pointed exactly as their Ma did years ago when they were little boys. If they were telepathic, they would have ‘heard’ her screaming the order “Over my lap you naughty boy!”
Zeke reacted exactly as if they had been telepathic and started to approach her. It took three steps to lose the overalls and then he was at her side. She pulled an arm and glided him over her lap. It did not matter that he was some ​eight inches​ ​twenty cm​ taller than she and much heavier. He was under her spell and just a naughty little boy accepting the spanking he had earned from his kid sister who was acting as his mother surrogate.
Daisy was amazed while very delighted at how things were going. Just as her big sister Clover had told her, their brothers were still just little boys in their heads and will respond that way if treated as such rather than as the men that their physical bodies were. So far she was correct. Daisy hoped it would continue as she spanked.
Her arm went up and then came down hard with her slipper making hard contact with the boy’s bottom check leaving a pink oval as evidence. There was little reaction but Daisy was persistent and continued spanking away. Over and over she raised the slipper and brought it down hard on target. The initial pink oval gradually grew like kudzu to cover both cheeks and darkening to a deep red. Daisy was encouraged for Zeke remained in place over her lap.
Daisy continued spanking as hard as she could. There was little further change and she remembered how her brothers had always resisted admitting any hurt and pain. She realized that she would have to settle for a red bottom as the result of her spanking and without crying. She told Zeke to get up.
Daisy then turned her attention to Silas. He obviously had been watching closely. She beckoned to him and he walked over almost like a zombie. He had even forgotten to hide his junk and it flopped as he approached her. He, just like his brother had, quietly laid across Daisy’s lap ready to dutifully accept the spanking due for his misconduct.
Silas was not kept waiting by Daisy for she immediately raised her slipper and brought it crashing down hard on his bottom where it made a pink oval just as it had on Zeke’s bottom. Daisy had a task to accomplish and she went at it with a will – making Silas’s tail match Zeke’s. Repeatedly she whacked his butt as hard and fast as she could. It was demanding work but necessary and rewarding. Soon the task was finished and she stopped.
“Now get back to work, boys.” she commanded. They grabbed their overalls and pulled them on and rushed back to their work.
Many hours later, when all were in bed she told her big sister all that had happened. “I’m not surprised they are just little boys inside. Ma will be pleased that you can deal with them.” responded Clover.
And in the morning as she did her inside chores, she told Ma who was, indeed, most pleased.
© Copyright A.I.L. January 10, 2021
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The Milk Farm
by Blackdog
theblackdogs@aol.com
copyright 2004 by Blackdog, all rights reserved
* * * * *
This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It contains
explicit depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If
you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such
material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not
read further, and do not save this story.
 * * * * *
Taylor Holden was more excited, and in more agony than he'd
ever been in his young life. His naked body was mounted on a
galloping horse. His hands were bound behind him, and buried
deep into his preteen anus was a long, thick black plastic
phallus.
The invader in his tailhole and the deep penetration into
his rectum had brought his cock up steel straight; indeed,
as the horse ran, he could feel his straining penis tap
against his flat belly.
Bound around the base of his cock and around his hairless
balls was a plastic band. It served to keep all the blood
locked in his yearning boydick, to lift and make more
prominent his sex organs, and to keep him from having the
ejaculation that he now craved so much.
Each stride of the horse was another deep, teasing, stuffing
stroke into his asshole. Each step was another erotic itch
in his aching balls and cock. He'd never been so hard and so
primed; yet the restraints on his organs kept him from
shooting off.
All the poor naked boy could do was feel the ache in his
balls, the "blue balls" he'd heard about, and grit his teeth
as this "ride" continued to excite and arouse him while
denying him the release he now ached for.
 
It seemed like a good idea at the time. Taylor Holden was in
the Crosspoint County Juvenile Court before Judge Janice
Finch, his head down and this knees knocking.
At just 12 years old, he was faced with the awesome - to
him, any way - power of the justice system, and he was just
about scared out of his wits.
It had all been an accident. He was playing catch with a
friend on the way home from school (on the last day of
school yet!) when one of his throws went high and smashed
the window of an angry old lady.
Taylor's friend fled, leaving him to face the wrath of Mrs.
Anderson, who swore to police that Taylor was also the boy
that had broken another of her windows the previous week.
Crosspoint had just adopted the Naked Punishment protocol
for juvenile offenders, and Taylor was terrified that he
might be sentenced to that humiliating penance. His face
brightened when the judge made a suggestion.
"He does have no prior offenses on his record," she said,
flipping through his case file. "There is an alternative
corrections program for less egregious offenders."
"We would like to hear about that, Your Honor," said Maggie
Holden, Taylor's mother. His father, Roger, nodded.
"Well," said the judge, closing the file and looking at
Taylor, "instead of the Naked Punishment, we could assign
him to the County Juvenile Milk Farm. He'd be working with
other minor offenders there, learning about the dairy
industry and getting lots of outdoor exercise. I think the
appropriate term would be . . . 30 days."
Taylor's stomach churned. One month of the summer on some
smelly old cow farm, hauling hay? Still, it sounded better
than some of the public and painful punishments that other
boys (and some girls) in town had undergone recently.
"What do you think, Taylor?" asked the judge, not unkindly.
"One month on the farm or one month in the 'other' program?"
After another moment, Taylor nodded his head. "The farm,
ma'm." "Excellent," said the judge. "So ordered. Next case!"
 
The county milk farm was quite a distance from town, which
suited Taylor fine. The fewer people who knew that he was
incarcerated the better he liked it. A half-dozen boys,
ranging in age from 7 to 14, rode on the bus with him for
the 45 minutes it took to arrive at the isolated facility.
Taylor was a little worried about what lay in front of him.
He was about 5-foot, 6-inches tall, and 125 lbs, with brown
hair and eyes; not a big or imposing physical specimen by
any stretch. Would the bigger boys give him a difficult
time? Little did he know that he would soon have other, more
pressing concerns.
When the bus arrived at the farm, it looked much more like a
real agricultural concern than a house of corrections. There
were no fences, no guard towers, indeed, no obviously armed
guards. The boys were herded into a room with one
"instructor" who was male, but a quick glance around the
grounds showed that almost half of the staff was female. All
the employees were dressed in the same uniform of khaki
shorts and matching short-sleeved shirts.
The boys sat expectantly around a table, silent and scared,
until their instructor spoke.
"My name is Bob Shaw," he began. "Mister Shaw to you. This
orientation is important to your successful completion of
the program; if you don't learn and follow all our
procedures you can be reassigned to That Other Program, if
you know what I mean."
A silent current of dread ran through the boys. Although the
Naked Punishment program was fairly new in Crosspoint, all
the boys knew other youths who had been stripped naked in
public, forced to masturbate, been spanked on their bottoms
and even their balls, and other painful and shameful
humiliations before the town. They certainly didn't want to
go into That Other Program, and their attention became
keenly focused.
"First rule is that you will be naked at all times. That
much we have in common with the alternative. The weather is
fine; you shouldn't suffer too much from exposure. Second
rule is that you must follow all requirements for your
safety and health; we are especially fussy about your diet
and the supplements that are part of your meals.
"Third, this is a working milk farm, not a summer camp. You
will be expected to participate whole-heartedly in the work
of this facility. The revenue generated by this concern
helps defray the cost of your stay here and makes this
alternative possible.
"Fourth, there are a lot of other rules which you'll be
exposed to soon; pay close attention. And fifth, any
instructor can create a new rule on the spot to cope with a
unique situation."
He paused and gave the group a menacing smile. "Violations
of these rules or disrespect or disobedience to staff here
will be dealt with severely. You may not get transferred to
That Other Program, but when we're through with you, you may
wish you had been."
Mister Shaw stood and slapped his hands sharply together.
"OK, time to enforce the first rule. Let's see you get bare-
ass naked, boys; you have 30 seconds."
The boys quickly fumbled out of their clothes and were
naked, all except for one awkward lad of 10 who fell over
when his legs tangled in his pants.
The instructor shook his head and grabbed the boy, pushing
him face-down on the table. "The rest of you, pull his pants
off. Now you and you and you and you; hold his hands down
and grab his ankles; no, spread his legs wider . . . wider,
I said."
When poor clumsy Tony was splayed wide, with his pink-brown
anus exposed to the group, the instructor said "Sorry
doesn't cut it, sonny."
He pulled from his back pocket a leather strap, which he
raised over his head. "Rules violation, 10 strokes on the
butt. Smart-ass remark: five right on the tailhole," he
said.
With that, Mister Shaw gave Tony 10 powerful slaps on his
firm, rounded fifth-grade buns, then another five right on
his well-spread, supersensitive asshole. Tony cried by the
eighth bun-swat, but screamed bloody murder when his bung
was punished so sharply.
When it was over, the group was silent except for the
sniffling of poor Tony, whose assglobes and the secret hole
between them were smarting powerfully.
"Dinner in 10 minutes, then over to your bunks for lights
out. Tomorrow will be a busy day," said Mister Shaw, "so we
like to give boys extra rest their first day here."
 
Dinner was surprisingly good; a choice of chicken or
hamburgers, with salad and corn and bread. The only thing
that struck Taylor as a little odd - other than the fact
that 100 preteen and teenage boys were eating their meal
totally naked - was the ritual of "supplements."
"Gotta keep you little hellions healthy while you are with
us," announced one of the farm supervisors. "At my command,
take up your red pill, and swallow it." When he was
satisfied that all the boys had done so, he repeated it the
ritual with a green pill and a blue pill.
What was the big deal about a bunch of vitamins, wondered
Taylor. So far, he concluded, the farm didn't look too
awful. He didn't exactly like being naked, but no one had
spanked him or done any of the other things that kids in the
regular Naked Punishment program had to undergo. As he fell
asleep that night in his bunk bed, he was thinking that he
was lucky to have landed in this program, instead of the
alternative.
The morning arrived early with a reveille call at 5:30 a.m.
By six a.m. the boys were all showered and naked, standing
at attention outside the bunkhouse in which they were
quartered. Their instructor, Mister Shaw, awaited them.
"Boys, we're going to go on a little tour today. To make the
experience more memorable, we're going to do it on
horseback. You-all being naked, we have to require certain,
uh, implements and devices to make sure you don't fall off
or get injured.
"First, each boy needs to be marked. My assistant here will
use that indelible marker to write your name on your back
and chest. Don't worry, it'll fade after about three months,
but there's no way you wash or scrub it off without taking
off five or six layers of skin."
The assistant - a disturbingly pretty young woman of about
20 - went around marking the boys, placing one hand on their
shoulders to steady her writing. The touch of the pretty
lady, along with their status as being buck naked around a
cute clothed woman gave all 12 boys boners. When she'd
marked the last one, she grinned. "They're all ready, Mister
Shaw. In more ways than one!"
The instructor smiled back. "It never fails, Miss Tomkins,"
he replied. "OK, boys, what's going to happen is that, one-
by-one, we're going to fit you onto your special saddles.
They are specially designed for our purposes. Additionally,
you'll be wearing some . . . devices . . . to protect your
precious privates from the bouncing and jouncing of
horseback riding. To keep any of you from getting any ideas
about taking that horse on a little escape, we will be
securing your hands behind you."
Miss Tomkins called the first rider, Ron Atkins. He was a
wiry 9-year-old with equally wiry black hair on his head,
but not a strand on his young, clean, naked body. She put a
stepladder next to the horse, and helped Ron climb up, which
he stopped in mid-move.
"There's a thingie in the saddle," he said.
"That's to help keep you from falling off," assured Miss
Tomkins. "Go ahead and sit on it." The boy did, and felt the
pressure of an inch-high bump - well-lubricated - against
his virgin anus. It actually felt kind of good, he thought
to himself.
The pretty assistant gathered his arms behind him and
secured them with fabric-lined handcuffs. "Hang on, Ron,"
she said, with a twinkle in her eye. "Here comes the fun
stuff."
She pressed a button on the saddle and the "bump" against
the fourth-grader's pink tailhole began to inflate and rise.
"Hey! This thing is going up my . . . butthole!" he cried
out.
Mister Shaw laughed. "That's what keeps you in the saddle;
four or five inches up your tight asses ought to keep you in
place. And there's more."
Ron's eyes grew big as he felt the inflatable phallus probe
and expand into his rectum; soon he felt stuffed. The
pressure of the device against his prostate and sensitive
asspuckers sent his already erect preteen cock into full,
throbbing hardness.
Miss Tomkins, once she was satisfied that the butt-raping
prong in the boys' behind was nice and tightly-wedged in,
took a cock-and-ball ring apparatus that fit tightly around
the base of the lad's twitching penis, and around his cute
little balls. The effect was to trap blood in the boner, and
to lift the balls away from the saddle, both for comfort and
display.
All the boys waiting to be "mounted" saw the grimace of
pain, discomfort and embarrassment on Ron's face. It was bad
enough being naked with a stiffy; to be trapped on top of a
horse's saddle with a thick ass-raping pr
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