The Master's Farm — Episode 4 The First Use

Miguel couldn't see her from his position, crushed against the beam, but he could feel her. And what he felt was something that didn't resemble anything he had had between his buttocks before. It was fat. Heavy. It pulsed with its own pulse, like a hot animal resting between his cheeks. He felt the thick foreskin and the swollen head radiating heat directly against his skin. It burned. And that was even before it had entered.

The Master didn't put his cock in. Not yet. Instead, he did something that revolted Miguel's brain: he started moving it up and down along the crack of his ass, slowly, using Miguel's buttocks as a channel. He grasped both cheeks with his hands, brought them together around his cock, and started to fuck between them. Slowly. Rhythmically. The thick cock sliding through that soft and smooth flesh, slipping with the sweat that was already accumulating between Miguel's buttocks.

And the amount of ass Miguel had made the Master's cock disappear completely between his cheeks. It swallowed it. Each thrust between the buttocks made the white flesh deform around the dark trunk, squeezing it, caressing it, enveloping it in a soft and hot pressure that was not penetration but was already driving the Master crazy.

"Look at these buttocks," the Master growled, squeezing the cheeks tighter around his cock. "My cock gets lost in so much flesh. You can't even see the head. This is an animal's ass, not a person's."

Miguel moaned with each pass. He felt the hot cock sliding over his anus every time the Master pushed forward, rubbing against the hole without entering, provoking him, torturing him. His anus contracted each time the cock passed over, seeking it, trying to catch it, opening itself like a hungry mouth that wants to bite something that is passing in front.

"Your ass is asking for cock on its own," said the Master, and Miguel could hear the smile in his voice. "Look how that anus opens every time I pass the cock over it. It's hungry. How long has it been since you've been eaten?"

"Three days," Miguel moaned. "Three days without being taken."

"Three days. For an ass like yours, that's an eternity, right? I bet you've been with your anus throbbing, eating your fingers, sitting on anything you find. How many fingers did you put in last night?"

"Four."

"Were they enough?"

"No."

"Of course not. Because this hole needs something thicker than fingers. It needs real cock. Male cock. And I have what you need, little cow."

He stopped fucking between the buttocks. He leaned back and Miguel felt the coolness of the air where the hot cock had been before. He moaned in frustration, pushing his hips back seeking the lost contact, and his buttocks rebounded with the movement like two restless animals.

"Still. Cows don't decide when they eat. The owner decides."

He gave a brutal slap on the right cheek. The sound was obscene...