New World Rush

Scorching Dustlands farm. Wiry thrall labors under hulking gaze. Heat gnaws sweat-slick skin. Chain clinks cold. Cage grinds groin raw. Muscles quiver exposed, dust cakes every flex. Presence looms dense, crushes air. Pressure coils in shallow breaths. Isolation throbs. Obedience aches inevitable. Fate grips tighter, pulse by unseen pulse.

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  • 4 Min Read

Rhythm of Dependence

Farm Dawn: Flesh Locks into Beat

Heat gnaws the fuck into skin already, like yesterday's piss-stink hangover. Toe hauls heavy feed bucket, metal handle biting palms slick with sweat. Chainband clinks faint against G2-77h farm scrap. Sweat pours down back in salty rivers, soaking crotchrag till it clings like cum-soaked rag to thighs, squelching with every step. Lungs rasp hot air, chest heaving against dust-choked grit. Hands work automatic. Shoulders grind fire. Bucket fills full. Trough stuffs packed. Animals snort snot-flecked grunts in pens. Animals stomp Dustlands dust with hooves, shit-piles steaming. Dust seeps through mesh, gritty paste on lips.

Legs quiver under load, knees grinding bone-on-dust. Body remembers: ten buckets per section, no more, no less. Lockcage grinds groin raw. Metal heats from sun, rubs cock-base blistering. Toe dumps feed. Toe watches beasts devour slop. Spit drools thick from mouth, splats ground. Hands tremble slick. He grabs next bucket. Dust cakes sweaty skin, stings eyes like acid. Lungs burn ragged, in-out with each slog.

Tools lie nearby: mesh hook rusted, manure shovel crusted shit. Toe grabs shovel. Toe jams into pile. Toe drags. Manure weighs heavy, wet clumps slapping boots, stench of rot and piss punching nostrils. Body bends low. Back screams. Sweat blobs from nose tip, salty drip on lips. Chainband chills neck sweat. Chainband drags weight. Another loop. Animals chew sloppy. Farm hums—pumps suck water from well slurping loud, transport rumbles distant from Nexus Ashfall. Morning means buckets, shovels, sweat. Loop grinds on.

Toe wipes face on forearm, smears mud-sweat crust. Knees throb raw. He hauls next bucket. Rhythm holds, body slick and reeking.

Puppy Chatter: Words Mix in Dust

Toe drags shovel to next section. Lungs rasp heat-thick air. Other thralls scrabble nearby—one cleans trough scraping loud, another hauls water hose hissing. "Yo, fucking light today... dust sparks like hot cum on skin, fuck, makes cock twitch in cage," blurts Toe. Lips crack dry. Tongue sticks palate thick. Spit pools foul. He hawks glob into dust, wet smack. Eyes snag fence metal glints, snag other guy's Chainband rubbing neck raw, snag bulge straining crotchrag.

"Yeah, yesterday dimmer maybe," grunts that one. Does not turn. Pulls hose gushing. Toe nods frantic, no one sees. "Smells... fuck, today's fresher, like Dustlands piss-rain on hot balls, ha, gets me leaking." Lips smack wet. Spit strings chin when grins sloppy. Chest pumps ragged, sweat trickles collarbone to pits stinking sour. "Repeat, yesterday pile same shit, today... same stinking mess, but drags nicer, like lube on hole or what?" Eyes slide backs, slide Lockcages bulging under crotchrag sweat-dark. Tongue laps lips salty-musk. "Hey, bucket yesterday seven steps cock-swing, today six, feels looser, yeah?" Others grunt dismiss. Others ignore, haul own loads grunting. Toe blinks dust-sting. Body bends deeper, ass flexing.

Chatter hangs thick air. Chatter mixes beast lowing wet. Lips burn salt-rash. Eyes snag every fence crack, every sweat trail snaking thigh to crack.

Grip: Weight's Core

Steps thud heavy. Toe straightens at trough. Eyes drop—dust puffs boots. Grip looms. Grip blocks passage: wide body hulks, massive shoulders crush space, chest barrel rams air. Arms cross iron. Skin coarsens rough, darkens dust-grimed. Movements slow deliberate. Movements crush.

Toe snaps stance—legs shoulder-width, hands sides, Chainband chills neck sweat. Eyes lock low up to Grip's belt, to crotchrag bulge straining thick. Body jolts. Lockcage grinds brutal. Sweat flash-cools back terror-slick.

"Yo, Toe. Trough clean?" Voice gravel low. No bullshit.

"Yes, Sir. Ten buckets. Manure cleared. Beasts eat." Toe nods jerk. Lips stretch tight.

Grip nods curt. Grip hawks thick spit—slams Toe feet splashing mud. "Good." Steps invades. Hand clamps Toe shoulder vise—heavy crush. Fingers gouge muscle deep bruising. Slaps cheek sharp sting, head snaps. "Move right next time, bitch."

"Yeah, Sir. Will." Palm burns spread. Body locks rigid.

Grip wrenches hand off. Grip eyes pens cold. "Check tomorrow." Pause crushes. Eyes rake past. Toe blinks. Toe freezes. Nothing. Grip stomps off. Steps fade menace.

Toe's body unlocks with a shudder. Shoulders throb grip-bruise.

Day: Loop, Wear, Chatter Grinds On

Sun climbs vicious. Heat scorches shoulders raw. Toe drags shovel—once, twice, manure clumps splat pile stinking. Thighs chafe slick sweat-burn. Lungs wheeze, clogged with dust. "Fuck these beasts... eat like cum-guzzling whores," mutters self hoarse. Body folds. Spine twists. Lockcage chafes blister ooze.

Count ticks skull: ten piles, twelve. Farm reeks—snorts wet, thrall chains rattle scrape, pumps gurgle. Lungs seize grit-sharp. Pecs spasm heave. Hands blister handle. Shovel drags heavier sludge. "Muscles grind... pull like yesterday's ass-fuck." No whine, fact raw. Body numbs—sweat blinds gritty, knees scrape bloody, groin throbs cage-rasp.

Another loop. Beasts stomp shit-fling. Feed crunches slob. Toe swipes brow. Smears filth crust. "Repeat... eight, nine." Lungs sear no relief. Sinews tear deeper. Farm pulses. Dustlands distant—rust tang, sand grind.

Body slaves. Wear piles corpse-heavy.

Crack: Wordless Wait

Evening reds dust-blood. Toe stands section. Arms dangle limp. Sinews quiver twitch. Grip nearby checks mesh—back hulks wide, movements crush no-fuss. Toe pins eyes him. Tension coils shoulders vise. Waits sign—nod, grunt?

Heart hammers ribs. Lungs shallow rasp. "Sir... all clean?" Toe forces rasp. Voice cracks self-hate.

Grip wheels slow menace. Pause strangles. Eyes rake Toe brutal, rake Chainband chafe-raw. Nothing. "Stand straight, meat." Bark short. Toe rigidifies. Legs root dust. Focus locks him—hands meaty, belt heavy. Groin knots. Lockcage crushes. Repeats skull: clean, ten buckets, clean.

Grip silent stone. Grip eyes pens. Toe blinks sweat-sting. Guesses rhythm—nod? No. Body endures. Sinews lock.

Pause grinds bone.

Nightfall: Power Locks In

Toe stays skinny, dried-out, wiry—muscles stretch long, no fat spare, shoulders narrow, collarbones jut under thinned skin, warm from sun and dust, skin marks easy from fingers or belt. Chest flats. Breathing lifts ribs visible. Hips narrow. Knees bony in dust. Faded light-blue scavpunk mohawk sticks stiff strands. Eyes light, open, pupils dilate bad at approach, fail to hide. Chainband weights neck. Lockcage pulls silhouette down. Proportions shrink body smaller, frailer—narrow torso against farm mass.

Grip storms stall. Grip body wide, dense, packed—shoulders massive crush air, chest cage heavy, arms large, sure in space, movements spare, no extra speed, skin coarsens, darkens from work and dust, height and bulk claim space effect, presence hits before words—sweat stench musky sharp, dust grit, power raw.

Toe cowers wall-space. Toe wilts. Grip devours room. Steps thud quake. "Knees, you fucking bitch." Voice gravel even menace.

Toe crashes. Knees crack ground brutal. Dust explodes. Eyes up frantic—crotchrag rips open, Grip cock swings heavy pendulous, head gleams sweat-slick precum-beaded. Toe gapes mouth desperate. Tongue flops slack drool-pooling. Spit ropes chin. Grip fists mohawk vise. Grip slams head. Cock rams throat—gorge-deep, spit erupts cough-spray, Toe retches choke, eyes flood tears snot, rivers saliva gush chest slick mix sweat pit-stink.

Grip skull-fucks brutal. Spit arcs ropes splat. Toe gulps convulsing. Toe hacks wet. Tears rivers cheeks snot-mix. Grip slaps cheek crack-red welt. "Hold fucking mouth open, slut." Grip thigh sweat cascades Toe face—salty brine burn eyes, sticky film. Cock throbs vein-pulse. Cum erupts blasts throat—ropy thick hot flood, Toe gulps desperate, overflow spurts lips, cascades chin ropes drip chest puddle. Grip yanks free. Toe pools cum mouth froth. Mouth agape plead. Eyes beg up. Body quakes shame-rack. Grip hawks massive loogie—slams tongue mixes cum-spit froth. Grip backhands other cheek sting-fire. Toe gulps sludge—viscous burn swallow. Shame floods. Body slumps wrecked.

Night: Puppy's Dumb Dream

Night. Toe sprawls straw stall. Pose fetal tight—knees chest, body wrecked heavy, slick remnants crust. Lungs settle ragged. Chest drags even. Chainband chills neck. Lockcage grinds. Cum crust flakes skin. Reek assaults—musk bitter, salt dry.

Thoughts haze: wonder raw, what feels like—ram cock free into hole? Body spasms cage-trap. But tomorrow... tomorrow harvest Mugroot Sap. Stalk thick meaty, writhes hungry, sap viscous trap. Sleep drags. Lungs hush.


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