joshslater
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The Cock Farm
🕑 Added 2021-10-14 00:37:05 +0000 UTCSomeone on a discord server described a story for me that he had read long ago.
Reminds me of a farm/milking story probably from eunuch archive. Handsome young veterinarian is called out to a very special farm. Farmer shows the shocked vet his “bulls” and “horses” which are men who have had the testicles of an animal transplanted into them. And he keeps them like animals, milking them for semen via anal stimulation. He does this to extend the useful life of prized breeding stud animals, once enough time has passed that the horse or bull realistically can’t possibly still be alive he removes the animal testicles and either keeps the eunuch on as a farmhand or sells them as a slave.
The vet is almost speechless, but also turned on. He finally manages to just say “well this is certainly a thing that you’re doing but I am a vet not a MD”
And the farmer leads him into the house and shows him to his dog, who is an old timer who is clearly at the end of his life and the vet is like “I’m sorry but I can’t do anything for your dog either”. Aaaaand the farmer is like, yeah you can, and that’s when the vet is grabbed and subdued. When he wakes up he’s being trained as a pup, with his new dog testicles healing.
Was honestly a pretty good story. The epilogue makes it clear that the vet/pup and the farmer developed a close intimate relationship, not just sperm donor.
Oh, and the horses and bulls were all volunteers. Gay men who actually wanted to get the animal treatment and be kept in a harsh environment and milked, so that did make the story a bit less dark.
I think the reason I remember this one is that the author took care to try and make the story less psychotic than it really should be. Not that there are any illusions, it’s just enough to keep your dick hard whereas if he’d gone all in with the usual milking tropes (abducted victims, euthanized when they stop providing etc.) that for most readers it just stops being hot and becomes a horror story. Also the touches at the end about how the farmer and the pup turn out were a nice touch.
I couldn't find the story, but it did make me think a bit about some local journalist snooping around the place. A rough draft that jumps unintentionally between tenses and plenty of other flaws:
The first thing I noticed when I came to was the smell of the barn, just as it had smelled when I entered it, and hay against my face. Did I hit my head and knock myself out. Did someone else? No, then surely I would have been dragged away somewhere. My head didn't hurt though. How long had I been out? The hay didn't just irritate the side of my face, but it continued down my neck and down the body. That couldn't be right? Was I naked? I opened my eyes.
My guess had been correct. I was in the barn, the same barn, but in one of the stalls, lying just next to the feed alley, separated from me by a sparse fence made out of iron pipes. I try to raise myself, but after like three feet I'm yanked down into the hay again with a firm tug at the neck and the sound of rattling chains. There's a D-ring welded to a plate secured by four bolts in the concrete floor. Hooked into it is a carbine hook that connects a chain from whatever collar I wear to the floor. I try to grab the hook, but fails.
This all happens over just a few seconds, so I shouldn't be too hard on my brain for failing to understand the severity of the situation. Perhaps it's the coping mechanisms of shock that kick in and tells you everything will be OK. Eventually. Instead of fingers on my hand there is just one single hoof, proportioned to fit. You could fit all fingers in it. It could be just a big 3D-printed block of something that is glued on with some superglue, but something tells me that isn't what has happened. I can't feel anything from my fingers as I try to wiggle them, and I saw what was done to those other men.
I make a new attempt to get up, but this time on my knees and hands. Hoves. The chain is long enough that I can stand like that and look a few stalls up and down the alley. I'm barely up when I hear the squeaking noise of small wheels approaching. Wheels and boots. It's the farmer I saw in the distance earlier. Up close he gives off an ultra-masculine appearance. Not just tall and muscular, but with a wide frame and a face that probably would be chiseled if not for the black beard. He was pulling something along that looked more designed for a school than a farm. A flat surface on top of some metal pipes with shopping card wheels at the bottom.
"You're up and OK. That's good."
"Who the fuck do you think you are?! I'll have you convicted for assault and kidnapping! Release me at once!" was what I intended to shout at him, but "EEEEEEE-HAAAA. Eeee.." was all I managed to bray out before surprise and shock shut me up. Surprise and the horrible realization that you can't do that to a person with super glue.
"Yeah, we'll have to talk more later. First let's do some finishing touches."
He fished up with looked like a stainless steel gun of some sort from the front pocket of his dungarees, and jumped over the fence into my stall. I tried to move away, only to pull on the chain again. In seconds he stood over me, one leg on either side, put the gun against my ass cheek, and I felt a sting as the injection went in. He smacked my other cheek hard with his hand and was out of the stall just as quick as he went in.
"That's a good ass. Let's have you marvel a bit while it takes effect."
He stepped over to the thing on wheels and turned it around. It was a mirror. It showed me, intrepid reporter and finalist in the George Stiegel journalist prize for two consecutive years, standing naked on all four in a barn stall. Two of those four were crowned by hoves, my ears were replaced with donkey ears, and underneath me, almost touching the hay on the floor, hung a donkey dick and a pair of donkey balls.
"EEEEEEE-HAAAA, EEEEEEEEE-HAAAAAAA, EE-HAA, EEE-HAA," I complained.
He just stepped forward and ruffled the hair between my tall, pointy ears. "Back in a bit."
How was this possible? How could a small town redneck do this, more advanced surgery than anywhere else on the planet? If I managed to escape, or someone manage to find me, could it even be reversed? The ears could be cut off, and I know it is possible to artificially grow new ears. Big business in South America as the cartels cut off ears of rich kidnap victims. The dick and balls must be possible to reduce in size. No kids for me though, I assume. It's the voice and the hands that are the real problems. I guess some people get their hands blown off and some people lose their voice, but there are a lot of disability tools to... Why the fuck am I even thinking of this!? No one is coming after me. I didn't share the story with anyone, didn't write down where I was going, nothing. I thought this was going to finally give me my George Stiegel. Then I saw the donkey dick wasn't near the floor anymore.
I shifted around to get a better look. The donkey dick was getting hard, and instead of dangling like a towel from the hip it was now erect along my stomach. The fucking chain kept being in the way. It wasn't long enough that I could sit upright, only stand on all four or lay down. I laid down on my back and watch the dick slowly creeping closer up my chest. Once it reached far enough that I could bend my head down and kiss it, a big drop of precum fell on my chest. I almost knocked myself out trying wipe it off, as my right hoof hit my head. I went back to standing on all four.
The dick drooped down and was now almost as close to the floor again as when flaccid, but now almost under my face. Was this what the injection was for? The sensation was unlike anything I've ever felt before. It was like my dick and balls were restless. It's not the best description, which isn't what you want to hear from a journalist. Some minutes later I was like a leaky faucet dripping precum. As soon as one viscous drop hit the floor I could see a new one form.
I couldn't do anything with the hoves. I could place one of each side of the dick and kind of jack off, but it was more painful than pleasurable. Using the back sides of the wrists I could rub it a bit, but it wasn't very effective. Like jacking off using only two fingers. It was just adding to my frustration, or perhaps it was simply building on its own and whatever I did just didn't make any difference. I managed to straddle the lower pipe of the pipe fence and put the long donkey dick along the pipe. The cooling against the dick gave some relief, but only temporarily. I was soon back to standing on all four, staring at my sad reflection, dripping precum like a water clock, and thinking nothing else than the attention-hogging dick. Was this how it was for all the other men in here?
I was somehow surprised when he was back. Ten-inch ears and he still managed to sneak up on me. He was rolling a much more rugged device after him. "How's my newest ass doing? Ready to get some relief?" I didn't answer with that ridiculous bray but instead just looked pleadingly at him. He picked up a long tube with some hoses connecting it to the machine and again stepped into my stall. He put the tube over my dick and pushed it all the way back to the base. Then I heard a hissing noise and felt the entire tube grab hold of the dick, like shrinkwrapping. He stepped back out and pushed a few buttons and the pumping started. I still kept getting hornier, but at least there was something doing something about it.
It was objectively comfortable standing on my knees and hoves, being masturbated by a machine. There wasn't really anything else I could do, so once I managed to not think about the horrible predicament I was in started to zone out. It was just pleasure. I kind of surprised myself when I started to pump cum into the machine's tube, after which it shut itself down. I continued to drift in the zen high of climax for minutes until I got to my senses again. What the fuck was happening to me? It was like all plans of escape, of rehabilitation, of revenge were just pushed out of mind as I was... milked. Had they done this too?
I had no way of telling time, but it felt like I had been out of it for quite a bit. The machine was still wrapped around my... the donkey dick. Not that it mattered. I couldn't go anywhere anyway while chained to the floor. All I could do was look at my sorry visage in the mirror. I couldn't see it, but I could feel it. The dick was getting harder once more. It could only have been like 15 minutes since the machine shut itself off.
When the farmer did return he again scratched my head an told me "good boy", before he looked at a display on the machine. By now I had been erect for quite a while, and was swaying back and forth to get the machine to tug my cock. "Took you 40 minutes to cum, and then back to erect in 20 minutes. Well, that was the first time. Don't worry, it will come down to hours between erections. Not this first week or two though. Once it goes down I'll let you walk around so the other animals can help you. So make sure you stay good friend with everyone."
