The Master's Farm — Episode 9: The Contract

Miguel woke up to the metallic sound of buckets being dragged across the floor of the pen.

He opened his eyes. It was still dark, but there was a faint glow of grayish light filtering through the cracks in the walls. Dawn. Early.

Master had already come and left breakfast.

Miguel slowly sat up, feeling the pain in his ass. It still ached from Solovino’s knot. His buttocks felt heavy, swollen, marked with bruises where the straps of the frame had pressed into him. He crawled toward the buckets along with the other three.

Inside was a thick mass, a strange color. Greenish brown. Lumpy texture. It smelled odd, like bitter herbs mixed with something sweet.

“What is this?” Miguel asked, looking at the mass distrustfully.

“We have no idea,” said Number Two, already sticking his hand into the bucket and pulling out a fistful of the mass. “But it’s fucking delicious.”

“They give it to us once a week,” Number Three explained, also eating with his hands. “And after eating it, we have energy all week. Like it recharges us.”

“Seriously?” Miguel sank his fingers into the mass. It was warm, sticky. He brought it to his mouth.

The taste was… indescribable. Sweet at first, then bitter, then sweet again. There was a metallic note, something earthy, something he couldn’t identify. But it was good. Very good.

“Right?” said Number One, smiling as he chewed. “We don’t know what it is, but it works. After eating it, we feel… stronger. More enduring. Like our body adapts better to everything.”

Miguel ate more, filling his mouth, licking his fingers. His stomach growled with satisfaction. He didn’t know when the last time was that he had eaten something that filled him so much.

The four of them ate in silence for a few minutes, until the buckets were empty. Then they sat in a circle, resting, talking about bullshit.

Number Two told a story about when he worked in an office and fucked his boss in the bathroom. Number Three talked about a threesome he had at a club with two strangers. Number One remembered an ex-boyfriend who had a huge cock but didn’t know how to use it.

Miguel laughed with them. It was surreal. Being there, naked, sitting on all fours, with his ass still sore from being penetrated by a dog, and at the same time laughing as if they were at a normal party among friends.

At some point, Number Three lay back on his mat, spread his cheeks with one hand, and started fingering his ass, slowly, moaning softly.

“Seriously?” said Number Two, laughing.

“What? I’m horny,” Number Three replied, not stopping pushing his fingers inside. “My ass is asking for more.”

“Pig,” Number One muttered, but smiling.

And then they heard the sound of the door opening.

Master entered the pen.

Everyone immediately fell silent.
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