There’s a lot you wouldn’t guess to look at him now, like how Dan was a young prodigy at Microsoft, or that he was a competitive weightlifter because an ancient Greek philosopher named Socrates said it’s a tragedy for a man to grow old without seeing the beauty and strength of which his body is capable.
After he made his nest egg in software he quit programming in his 20s, quit his job and moved further west, to Olympia. Even though it’s the state capitol it’s in a pretty rural area. “Olympia, Olympus, this piece of shit is the home of the gods,” he says. He means it too, and he doesn’t see the contradiction.
We lived off the land as much as possible, growing our produce and butchering chickens and goats from time to time. Dan was most of the time the general carpenter, electrician, mechanic, chef, veterinarian and doctor. He tutored the kids too, when he had time. I sat in when I could, supplementing my public school education with his own spin on the classics and business.
We bought as little as possible, driving into Oly for the things we can’t grow. Even in a big lot store Dan would try to bargain down the price from a pimple faced sales clerk with no power at all. It used to embarrass me, but Dan always said don’t ask don’t get.
I’d been around for a while, as the farm manager. I started a few years ago at 16, so that ought to tell you how much experience was needed for the job. I left my dad’s farm, which was not such a good place for me. That’s enough for you to know. I did know the things you pick up growing up on a regular farm, but this was where I learned about hogs.
Dan’s hogs weren’t for eating. They were show hogs for animal husbandry, not food, and thank God it wasn’t a real hog farm because that’s the most foul thing you’ll ever smell. Dan kept just a few breeding sows and his prize boar Sophocles, the stud. Before Sophocles he had Euripides and before that was Aristophanes, but Sophocles was without doubt Dan’s favorite.
Dan said that Zeus, the horny king of the Greek gods, took all sorts of forms to get at women, bulls and swans and whatever, but if Dan could do that he’d come as a boar. Boar orgasms last 15 minutes on average, but Dan had seen Sophocles clock in at a half hour. Scientists say no one knows what a boar is feeling when he cums, if it’s the same as when a man does or not. But Dan said just try to take a boar off before a sow he’s done cumming and you’ll have the fight of your life, so it must feel pretty damn good.
According to Dan, Zeus had over 90 kids with all sorts of goddesses and mortal women, but Dan set his sights on 12. That was the number of gods in Olympus and that appealed to Dan. He was at 8 so far, and had prospects for getting all the way to his goal. The kids mostly lived with their moms, and spent summers on the farm, which was handy because that’s when we had the most work. Paying off the moms and lawyer fees ate up a lot of Dan’s nest egg, and he made it sound like he was on the brink of poverty all the time, but he managed it so no one really knows how much there was in total.
Even though he was a crazy ass show-hog breeder on a shitty family farm, he had looks women liked and he could sweet-talk anyone when he set his mind to it. He wasn’t a competitive weightlifter anymore and he had gained a lot of weight since the days when he was, but he still lifted regular so he was built. Even with a big belly he had brawny shoulders and chest muscles, and biceps as big as a kid’s head. He was jowly and shaved only now and then, leaving him a half-grown mustache and beard most of the time. But he still had a handsome face with amber eyes, a blunt nose and thick chocolate gold hair.
You’d be surprised how many women saw him as some sort of challenge, and having a baby with him was the price of admission to play, but not a one of them stayed around long. His sweet side wasn’t inclined to last, and he was also a bastard who would tell anyone what he thought and did as he pleased. He didn’t pull his punches, not with strangers, not with those he knows and not even with the kids. What’s the point in being a self made man, he’d say, if you can’t fart and burp and say what you feel to anyone you want. And I guess that’s how the farm could have been Olympus and a piece of shit at the same time.
Dan was serious about breeding, and approached his own kid breeding project the same way he did breeding Sophocles, his stud boar, trying to improve results through diet and behavior. He was not what you’d call a disciplined man, except in regard to this.
He consumed daily supplements to increase sperm count and semen output. He gobbled up Zinc, L-Arginine, Lecithin and Pygeum, which he called the master potion, and did kegels in addition to lifting to make for longer, more intense orgasms.
“I may not make 30 minutes like Sophocles, but I aim to set some records,” he said.
Breeders keep boars near enough to smell the sows, but limit their orgasms to breeding time. A lot of breeders would have their horny breeding boars mount a sow dummy to collect the semen to sell on the market, but Dan didn’t have the heart to do that to Sophocles. That boar only fucked straight up sow pussy. We kept separate sow and boar pens, and a breeding pen for when Sophocles got a fucking date.
Sometimes Dan would ask Sophocles afterwards how he enjoyed that sow cooter. The boar would just look at us with his swine eyes. But I imagined him answering, One word frees us of all the weight and pain of life, and that word is love.
Dan had a policy for himself that like Sophocles he would only cum in a pussy. That was probably the hardest part of his plan because unless he was getting it regular he might have to go a while with no jerking off or anything. When he was seeing someone regular it wasn’t such a problem, but mostly it was long stretches and that’s why on Friday and Saturday nights he trolled rural dive bars and sweet talked any breeding age woman he met, from Seattle to Forks and all points in between.
Even if a woman was on birth control and theoretically couldn’t get pregnant anyway, he stuck with his in-pussy-only policy. He said no birth control was perfect, so even if a woman was oh the pill his boys still had a chance. The one exception was a woman who was pregnant, because you couldn’t get more pregnant, so even though he liked pussy too he’ live it up at times and titty fuck a pregnant woman.
He’d tell you he loved titty fucking, and nothing better than titty fucking a pregnant woman whose boobs were big and full of milk to feed the baby you put in her. Not that he didn’t love pregnant pussy too, but those titties were something else according to Dan. I wouldn’t know because that wasn’t my thing.
I’d seen him at it too, because when had a woman he’d fuck anywhere he wanted that she was willing. I’d walked into the kitchen to find a woman straddling him at the kitchen table. I’d seen him thrusting between the massive boobs of a girlfriend days before she gives birth. I’d seen him out in the hammock humping a new woman just as hard as his boar Sophocles rides a sow at breeding time.
Dan’s bedroom and mine were on one side of the house, but all the kids are on the other when they were on the farm in summers. So Dan had pretty free license, and though he wouldn’t admit to any limits on his impulses it looked to me like the more public aspects of his breeding life only happened when no one was around but me. Maybe he thought of me as another man, even though I was barely 18, only a little older than the kids.
Sophocles said a lusting cock is like being chained to a mad master, and Dan would tell you someday maybe he’d be free of his own mad master, but he didn’t see that time coming soon.
Because the nest egg was only enough to get the kids through childhood and Dan to his death in old age, and also because he sometimes dipped deep to pay off his women, we knew once the kids hit 18 they were on their own, like me. There was no money for college, but the farm property was vast enough that they could build up there, or go into the world to make their fortunes. Youth, said Dan, was the best time to be poor.
Even though I was barely more than a kid myself, I was consistently present, and my lack of real experience or education meant he could get away with paying me in room and board. When he hired me I didn’t have anything else or any other prospects, and room and board sounded like a lot better deal than hunger and homelessness.
But as I took on more responsibility on the farm and turned eighteen, I pushed for some actual pay, and he didn’t like that so much. But you don’t work like that for a cheap bastard without learning to be a little bit of one yourself.
“Don’t ask, don’t get,” I said. He didn’t like that at all, which was funny him being the one who taught it to me.
He pointed to Sophocles, serenely eating from his trough, and said, “This is the unperturbed state in which every man should seek to keep himself.”
Maybe so. Maybe I was too perturbed to be as content as a hog. In the end he yielded, and with my first raise I drove to Seattle to buy a dildo and some fancy lube. It was pretty much the only thing I owned other than the clothes on my back and my imagination.
You might not think a boy on a farm would have a lot of opportunity for sex, but you’d be surprised what a body fit from hard work and a discreet tongue will get you. There’s men, a few anyway, on these farms that work hard their whole lives, marry dutifully, and just want a boy on the side for a little pleasure free of obligation or labor.
I wasn’t built like those guys in porn, but even I know I looked better than decent. I had a long lean torso and smooth skin with tiny blonde hairs that get almost white after working shirtless on the farm all summer. My smile was good and situated between dimples and a good square jawline. With my farm boots and worn jeans and baseball cap you might think I was just some farm boy looking to marry some big titted girl. But it was their brothers and husbands and fathers I was thinking of.
I took to hooking up with Tim Skyler, a farmer nearby with had a pretty wife and a couple of tow-headed kids, who liked to suck dick from time to time, and liked mine just fine. We’d meet up when I was in town to buy things, because I didn’t have much free time otherwise, and hook up in a public bathroom or in the pickup.
One day he told me his farm, a real producing farm, was doing pretty good and he needed a good manager to help him, was I interested. I have to admit the idea of my own real job was appealing, and if you throw in some free head now and again that sweetened the deal. But I was used to Dan’s place and knew the kids would be home for summer soon, and one of the gilts would be up for her first breeding soon. I couldn’t see leaving Dan high and dry.
“If you change your mind, Merc, let me know,” he said, then went back home to his wife with a load of my cum in his belly.
I didn’t know for how long, but Dan knew I was lusting after him too.
On Sunday mornings we’d hold our weekly farm meeting, he and I, while he showered, the curtain open. If he got some pussy on Friday or Saturday, he’d have a clear head for business on Sunday morning. And sometimes Sunday morning meant having to drive some hungover slampiece back to Tacoma or Aberdeen or wherever she left her car the night before.
I’d watch Dan shower while he talked about shopping lists, hogs that needed breeding and equipment that needed tending. His chest, belly, ass, legs and nuts were covered with soft downy baby golden brown hair, which was so soft and pretty on such a big manly body. Like I said, he had a belly, but also big weightlifter shoulders, pecs and biceps. He just seemed so abundant everywhere, including his fat cock and round ass.
He could tell I was looking at him and one day asked if I liked boys or girls, and I said boys I figured. He asked if I liked him in that way, and I said I figured.
“If you’re going to be a cocksucker might as well own up to it,” he said. “Shame too, because you’re good looking and could have your choice of girls for your own breeding. But it is what it is.”
“I figure,” I said, watching the soap suds pour off his cock and balls.
“I’ll teach you to fight too,” he said. “You’re already a thirsty son of a bitch, and you’re gonna’ need to know how to defend yourself.”
Some bosses might have been unnerved by the situation, but Dad wasn’t. He might have liked the attention, to be honest.
Dan and I had a flirtation, you could say.
I woke one Friday night from the noise in his room, and got up to find him in his bedroom, the door open, rutting with a big girl, thrusting up into her with his full weight. When he saw me standing there he looked up and said “Sorry son, just making another little piglet to worship me like you do.”
They fucked almost non-stop for two days, and on Sunday we had our usual business meeting while he showered. I went ahead and slow stroked my boner over my jeans, almost hypnotized by the flow of water over his softly furred body.
He cupped one of his pecs and caressed it and said, “You want some of this Daddy tit?” Of course I did, and he let me take a lick of his nipple. Then he sighed and said he’d drive his chippy back to Chehalis.
I jerked off into his towel after he dried himself, thinking about that lick.
I didn’t know what it was about him. It just was.
I liked his attention and flirtation and kind of hated it too. When you’re 18 you can feel things strongly, even if you’re just a dumb uneducated farm manager. His walking around all day with his muscles and his obsession with where his cock would breed made it hard on me, so to speak
Things came to a head after Sophocles impregnated one of the sows, which made Dan proud and maybe a little envious. He hadn’t gotten a woman with child for a while.
I fed the chickens and hogs, and watered down the boar and hog pens.
After the little ones went to school, while Dan sat at the table and I cleaned up, I said “Sophocles is getting on, he’s been breeding for three years. We might want to keep one of the shoats from this coming litter to raise up as the next boar.”
I said that because boars don’t have too long a breeding life, because they get too heavy to mount anything and develop leg weakness.
“Sophocles is fine,” replied Dan, bluntly. “That hog’s got plenty of breeding in him.”
After a few minutes of silence he added, “I know you said Sophocles is getting too old, but it sounded like you might be talking about me. You have something to say? Spit it out. ”
“Nope, not me,” I said, cleaning up our breakfast, pouring the leftover bacon fat into a little tin where we keep it in the refrigerator.
Dan changed the topic by grabbing at his morning boner tenting his boxers, and said “Jesus fuck, I upped my pygeum supplement and now I’m leaking precum like a faucet all day.
He knew how to get me, because even though we flirted with each other, I was the one who wanted it more I looked out the window and could see the boar pen. I could almost hear Sophocles say fortune is not on the side the faint hearted.
I mustered up my courage and said, “Let’s see it.”
Dan obliged. He popped his cock out of his boxers, and as he said, it was dripping a stream of precum seeping into his boxers. I noted it had been almost a month since he’d brought a woman home.
I was still holding the tin of refrigerated bacon fat, so I scooped some out right in my hand, walked over to Dan, and slathered it on his erection. I wasn’t going to have a damn pig say I was faint hearted.
His cock twitched for a second at the contact with the refrigerated fat, but as it warmed and lubricated my stroking, His cock swelled defiantly. We looked each other straight in the eyes, almost waiting to see who would blink first.
He didn’t lie about the effects of the pygeum. His greased cock was a fountain of precum, and I was merciless in my stroking, going especially slow as I grazed the head of it. I licked my lips, wanting him so bad.
But he took my wrist in his hand to stop me, and said, “My balls are so full up, it’s too bad there’s not a real cunt on this farm to take it. Fucking shame.”
He let my hand go and turned away. Even with his cock pulsing and the precum oozing out of him in a steady stream, he was so in control.
“You’re a fucking cock tease,” I said. “Go find yourself another farm manager. I’m done. I quit.”
It wasn’t a plan. I just said it.
I grabbed a kitchen towel for my bacon greased hand and walked out onto the farm.
I made my way to the hogs and went to the breeding pen where I could be alone, but Dan followed me out on his big strong legs, still in his pygeum precum stained boxers, carrying the tin of bacon fat.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” he asked.
“I’m leaving,” I said. “The Skyler farm offered me a job, and I’m leaving.”
“You’re being rash,” he said, and was holding his erection in his boxers. “I forget you kids take shit seriously.”
“Is your plan that we just go on like this, you and me?” I asked.
“It occurs to me,” he answered, “even Zeus took to a boy now and then between getting women with his babies. He came to Ganymede in the form of an eagle.”
“Yeah well I don’t see any eagles around here,” I answered.
He stripped off his boxers and nodded to the dirt floor and said, “We’re in the breeding pen, Merc, let’s breed. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
“What?” I asked, not even sure what he meant. Did he mean the hogs? Or us? “I don’t… I have to take a shit.”
“Now who’s the cocktease? Come on, hands and knees, like a sow,” he said as he scooped up a handful of cold bacon grease and smeared his cock with it.
Almost in a daydream, I stripped off my jeans, kicked off my boots, and got down on my knees. They sunk in the moist earth, and so did my hands.
Dan knelt behind me, and without pause pressed his cock up against my hole, rubbing it against my pucker, and I heard him say “Little pig, little pig, let me in,” and the greased head speared up into me, spreading my hole open.
He paused just to get his bearings, and started to slide his whole big pecker up into me in one long move. I kept saying fuck, fuck, as my hole and bowel tried to accommodate him, but he was moving faster than I could keep up with. That was faster and more steady than I ever was able to do with my dildo, and I was quivering inside trying to take it.
“You’re a mean fucker,” I said.
“You even know what you want, boy?” he asked.
“I want you to fuck me,” I said.
“Fuck you? Son, I’m gonna’ rearrange your guts.”
He pulled almost all the way out of me and slowly slid all the way back in, faster and harder and I lost my wind and dropped my shoulders into the mud, grasping for something solid to hold myself up.
He started some long slow strokes, pulling almost all the way out and then in again, and I was almost dizzy with the alternating sensations of being full and empty and then full again. I was shoulder down in the mud and just settled in and let him work my ass.
I could have gone on like that, but Dan threw his full weight on me, all 250 pounds at least, forcing my legs to spread wide in the slick wet earth. I buckled under his weight, pressed flat into the mud.
“You’re not going anywhere, are you?” he asked as he covered my whole body with his. “You’re gonna’ stay right here and manage this farm, and you can get a breeding now and then if that’s what you need, right?”
“I can’t breathe,” I gasped, struggling to fill my lungs, “please Daddy.”
I don’t know why I called him that right then, I just did. I hadn’t even called my own father daddy, back before I ran off from his farm.
“Tell me what you’re gonna’ do,” he said, lifting off of me enough for a moment’s respite, as if to say even my breath was his to give or take.
“I’m staying here,” I panted, “I won’t ever leave.”
Dan said good boy, then buried his face against the back of my head and started pounding me hard. I didn’t think there was any deeper to go but his cock seemed to hit somewhere new in my insides with every thrust in. He was a god and a pig and my daddy all at the same time.
His breath was coming in frantic gasps and his thrusts were harder and shorter and faster. His whole weight was on me, shoving me deeper down in the mud. I couldn’t breathe, my face covered in mud and unable to lift myself. He snorted and bucked and was shooting a hot surge of semen deep in me. His thrusts were so hard they were pushing my own cum out of me, mixing in the mud. I came and came, and when I was done he was still going strong, pumping his cum into me, gorging me with it as my ass made sick wet farting sounds.
We lie there till even after he was done and his cock had gone only half hard, trying to regain both our breaths while my belly gurgled.
Dan put his face up against mine and whispered “If you ever try to leave I will find you, and I will chop you into pieces and feed you to the pigs.”
Then he kissed me on the side of my face, slid out of my bottom and stood up.
I struggled to get up, feeling volcanic inside. I squatted, instinctively, and my ass erupted in a loud belch and a hot flow of shit, semen, bacon grease and mucous. It came in a wave, then another and another. I broke out into a cold sweat and shivered, humiliated doing this in front of Dan, but I couldn’t have stopped it to save my life.
Looking at his precious load mixed with my feces in the mud, Dan shook his head and said “Fucking shame.” He started back to the house, turning back once to say “Just kidding about the chopping you up thing. You kids are so fucking serious.”
On my knees, with my beaten guts and aching hole I looked around at the pen and the farm that it seemed I would live on for the rest of my days.
Sophocles observed. His eyes said, The keenest sorrow is to recognize ourselves as the sole cause of all our adversities.
That’s when I realized how much I hated that fucking pig.