Date: Wed, 04 Jul 2001 07:50:56 -0400
From: Pouch Full <pouchfull@hotmail.com>
Subject: One Happy Family - V

One Happy Family -

Part V

As school was coming to an end, it was becoming more and more difficult to
concentrate knowing that we would be spending an entire week helping out on
the farm.  Dad said it would be just the four of us and two others who were
Grandpa's full-time farmhands.  The other summer workers would not be there
until the week after us.  During this waiting time, it was agreed that Coach
would drive us all there in his SUV.  I was so excited that I was packed a
week before school was out.

A cheer went up as the Coach pulled up to the farmhouse. It was a long
11-hour drive.  The farm was very rural and almost 2 miles off the main
road.  The entrance road looked like a deserted road to people passing by.
The four of us had been riding in the dusty heat for the long trip from the
city were restless and needed to stretch, and a little sore from the long
time being seated. We were all dressed in shorts and T-shirts.  As we pulled
up two men, one about 21 and the other in his late thirties stepped out the
front door, one dressed in work clothes, the other more businesslike in a
tie. We picked up our bags and emptied out onto the dusty gravel drive.  "My
name's Billy," he said to us, "and this is my Dad - Mr. Stearns.  We run the
show here, and there's plenty of work, but we want you guys to have a good
time too."  Billy had us line up side by side then walked down the row,
inspecting us.  "I was on last summer's crew myself and managed to work my
way up to foreman. Now, I'm sure you guys will do just fine," he said with a
grin. He stopped at the end of the line to check out Brad, whose sweaty
shorts clung to his asscheeks.  "We're going to start your training right
now." Leaving our bags on the ground, we were marched off to a low concrete
building attached to the barn. Billy and Mr. Stearns brought us into a small
room with several chairs in a half-circle around a television set. We all
immediately noticed that it was very warm in the room. "Sorry about the
heat, guys," said Billy. "But the air's not working right now. Since we
don't want anyone falling asleep, you guys should strip down to your
underwear." Puzzled, but glad to feel more comfortable, we all slipped out
of our T-shirts and shorts. We were all wearing jockstraps.  Mr. Stearns
checked out the sizeable packages bulging through our pouches and licked his
lips.  He was a good-looking man of 37, successful, and used to getting his
way. He stood back quietly while Billy ran the show. "Now you guys just take
a seat and I'll start the training video," said Billy. He lowered the lights
and slipped a tape in the VCR. We waited in the dim light, expecting a short
film on farm equipment or animal husbandry. Instead, we were all shocked and
pleased to discover it was a porno. It had been edited to get right to the
action: a muscular blonde dude ramming his cock up a big-titted young
woman's pussy, while she took from the front by a younger, dark-haired guy
with a huge cock that she was trying desperately to deepthroat.  Billy and
Mr. Stearns, watching through a video camera in an air-conditioned room,
could see the hardons starting to form in our straps.  Brad had slipped a
hand inside his pouch and was stroking his thick cock to full hardness.
Seeing his comfort at stroking himself in the room, the rest of us quickly
followed suit, staring straight ahead at the porno so as to pretend we
weren't aware of each other. It wasn't long before Billy and Stearns were
treated to the hot sight of four hard-bodied studs stroking our huge cocks
as we sweated away in the overheated room. The sweat lubed our hands and
hard shafts, making it easy for us to jack off while we watched the flick.
Billy and Stearns had edited it carefully so that it now mostly showed shots
of the men in the video, especially lots of close-ups of our huge cocks and
balls ramming away at the girl. "How do you guys like the training video?"
asked Billy through a microphone.  "Fuckin' hot man!" Dad said as he shafted
his growing dick.  As the video heated up, I brazenly slipped my strap down
to my ankles and started giving my cock the full jack-off treatment while I
cupped my heavy hairy balls in the other hand. The others hastily followed
suit, anxious to free our pricks from our now tightening pouches. The sweaty
white jocks lay in a pile at the center of the semi-circle, and the distinct
sound of sweaty hands rapidly working over huge cocks added to the porno
soundtrack. Billy and Stearns surveyed the image on the monitor, our own
cocks at full stiffness from watching the hairy studs jack off. It was clear
from the picture on the screen that Coach had the longest cock, though Brad,
who looked almost, hypnotized by the porn film, had an unbelievably thick
one.  "Just relax and enjoy yourselves," said Billy. "Don't be shy now, keep
stroking those beautiful cocks as much as you want." Just as he finished
speaking, the young stud in the video that was doggy-fucking the woman
pulled and aimed his cock over her back. He gripped his balls and rapidly
jacked his angry red shaft, then bellowed loudly and fired several thick
streams of cum over her ass and back.  The blond dude who was getting
deep-throated in the porno pulled out suddenly and made the girl kneel in
front of him. As he desperately jacked his cock she opened her mouth wide to
receive his load and stroked his thighs.  Suddenly the girl in the video
slipped her right hand between the stud's legs and in between his ass
cheeks. The camera shifted and caught a very close-up shot of her middle
finger slipping easily into his anus, right up to the knuckle. The next shot
was of the young male porn star, who clearly hadn't expected the move,
grunting and shouting as his cock jumped in his hand and blasted a good ten
shots of hot cream onto the girl's face, only half making it between her
lips. The unexpected finger shot was too much for Brad.  He let out a long,
low groan and leaned forward in his chair and soon a series of huge cum
spurts flew from his thick shaft, landing squarely on the pile of straps in
the middle of the circle. Billy and Stearns were amazed at how far his shots
flew.  Next came Coach, who sat back in his chair, and whose other hand
seemed to have moved from his balls to even further back between his legs,
though we could not actually see if he was playing with his asshole. "Oh,
fuck man!" he shouted, and instantly a huge volley of cum spurted from his
cock and landed on his face and chest. He continued jerking and swearing,
and his cock fired cum indiscriminately around, hitting Dad and I who were
sitting beside him on our chests and legs. Finally, with a low groan, he
gave his red shaft a slow, long squeeze upwards, forcing out the last thick
blob of cum from his cock as if he were extracting toothpaste. Only Dad and
I were left. We were both frantically jerking our cocks and stroking our
balls as we watched the next scene on the porno.  Our faces were contorted
and our breathing ragged.  Then Stearns, who until now had said nothing,
burst into the room and confronted us.  "All right guys," he said. "You guys
are expected to work as a team. That means that if one guy gets off,
everyone gets off. So I want each and everyone one of you to lend these poor
two a hand and give them some relief. Understood?"  "Look, I'll show you,"
said Stearns. He took Brad by the hand and placed his cum-slicked palm
around Dad's scrotum. "Just keep stroking his sack like it was your own. See
how he likes it?" Brad did as he was told and caressed the Dad's balls
lovingly.  "Now come here you," said Stearns to Coach. He made the hairy
muscular stud kneel beside me and pushed his head towards my chest. "I want
you to play with his nipples just like you suck your girlfriend's." Coach
placed his lips around my left nipple and began to suck and nibble it, while
his other hand rolled and pinched the other nipple. It felt so good, my hand
moving rapidly up and down my raging cock.  Then at last, with a long sigh,
my hips bucked spastically and a stream of fresh, salty boycream sprayed
from my cock and all over my hairy torso.  "Now that's what I mean by
teamwork," said Stearns. "Now what about this poor guy here?  He's looks
exhausted." Everyone turned to look at Dad, whose sweat-drenched face bore
the signs of excitement and frustration as he slowly stroked his huge rod.
He was totally worked up, but unable to cum.  Stearns directed Brad to kneel
on the floor, and had me lay him down on the floor, my head resting face-up
in Coach's lap. Coach leaned over and starting to pinch and roll Dad's
nipples in his fingers.  "Young fellah, you are going to have the best job
of all," he said, and guided Brad's warm hand between Dad's hairy asscheeks.
He placed Brad's middle finger over Dad's tender asshole and showed him how
to caress and tickle it with his fingertip. "Just like that," he said, then
removed his hand and watched as Brad took over the fingering of Dad's anus.
There was no denying that was just the trick Dad needed. With Coach playing
with his tits, me jerking my again hard cock, and Brad fingering his
asshole, he went over the edge and let out a long high-pitched wail. "Oooooh
my Goooood, Yesssss!" he shouted as an incredible series of cum wads sprayed
from his pulsing shaft. They flew all the way up to his face, moistening his
lips, chin, and his feathery hairy chest. Brad and Coach didn't escape the
huge orgasm, and saw there own hands, faces and hairy chests coated
liberally with his creamy juice. Everyone was so fascinated with Dad's
incredible cum that no one noticed how Brad had already gotten another
chubby from playing with Dad.  "Now, that's what I call teamwork!" said
Stearns. "Is everyone clear on what that means?" "Yes sir!" we shouted in
unison. "Good. Now I want all of you to pick up your shorts and march
through that door to the showers and clean up." We did so immediately, and
Stearns waited until we had all left so he could watch each of our sweaty
young asses walk through the door. He walked back into the control room
where Billy was waiting, kneeling on the floor. "I'm ready, Mr. Stearns," he
said. Stearns unzipped his pants and whipped a raging hard twelve-incher.
He grabbed Billy by the hair and shoved his cock into his mouth. Billy
immediately began to suck expertly on the hot shaft, and Stearns let out a
sigh of satisfaction. "Those guys will do just fine," he said as Billy
slurped noisily on his cock. "They're really going to learn how to take it.
" Then the thought of training yet another group of studs overtook him. He
held Billy's head tightly to his groin and grunted, shooting hot cum into
the young stud's mouth. Billy swallowed the salty juice obediently, just as
he had last summer when Stearns had trained him as part of the first group.
He thought about what the new guys were in store for, and felt great that
could be part of the training. The four of us sat on a bench in the shower
room with pale blue supplied towels around our waists, waiting for Billy and
Mr. Stearns to show up. In the showers we had all washed silently, saying
nothing as if the experience with the training video had never happened and
wondering what more was to happen.  The door opened and in walked Mr.
Stearns and Billy. They ushered us into the barn. From the rows of stalls,
it had obviously once been a dairy barn, but it was clean and odorless.
There were still partitions up as there had been for the cows, but instead
of hay each one had a cot raised just over four feet off the ground. We
noticed that the cots were bolted to the ground, and that there was a
curious railing system attached to the ceiling over each cot. "This is where
you guys will sleep for the next eight days," said Billy. He assigned each
of us a cot and recorded who was in which one, since they were all numbered.
He disappeared for a second and returned with a wheeled cart laden with
food. He handed each of us a large tray of beef stew, mashed potatoes and
pie. We ate hungrily as we sat on the ends of our cots. "Now just wait here
and we'll be back for the next part." He left us again. After our meals we
waited anxiously, sitting on the edge of our cots and fidgeting. Since the
partitions only covered the back half of the cots, we could all see each
other. "Man, this is kind of weird," said Brad after a long silence.  "Hey,
I don't mind it so far," said Coach. "They show us a porno, give us a
shower, feed us, nice place to sleep. Not too bad."  Billy and Mr. Stearns
walked back in. Billy was carrying a large box that clinked with glass. "We
need to run some health tests on you guys," said Mr. Stearns. "So each of
you needs get on all fours on your cots, pronto!" We responded immediately.
We were kneeling on all fours with our ass pointing outward at the open end
of our cots, so we couldn't see each other any more, or see what Billy and
Mr. Stearns were up to. The two men were instantly impressed by the row of
hairy asses and large dangling cocks and balls that presented themselves to
them. Brad was in cot #1. Billy and Stearns stood back at first to admire
the fuzzy, muscular bubble butt with tufts of blond hair between the cheeks,
and the generous, thick cock and scrotum hanging down at the base of the
asscrack. His thighs were just far enough apart that the men could see the
anal rosebud between the firm globes. "These are very simple tests that
we're doing just to identify your work," said Mr. Stearns. From the box
Stearns produced a strange instrument with a long, thin closed tube at one
end, and a small meter at the other. He set it down between Brad's legs,
then proceeded to apply a generous coating of lube to his right hand. He
grasped the 16 year-olds thick cock in the lubed palm, and Brad jumped. But
he quickly relaxed as Mr. Stearns began to shaft his cock, which soon
thickened and grew to full stiffness under his firm grip. "How's that feel,
young man?" said Stearns. "Unnnh, oooh yeah, just great...awesome," groaned
the teen stud as his hips pumped very lightly in response to the handjob.
"Fuckin' great." "Good," said Mr. Stearns. "Now, don't mind this." He dipped
the index finger of his other hand into the jar of lube, and proceeded to
massage the boy's anus with it. Brad shook for a second, then moaned and
wriggled his ass a bit as Mr. Stearns continued to caress and probe his taut
young asshole. He coated the outside of it generously, then slowly worked
his finger in up to the second knuckle. Stearns felt the boy's cock increase
instantly in hardness. Suddenly he withdrew his finger and picked up the
rubber tubing device. He held it by the middle and proceeded to push the
tube up the stud's ass. It entered smoothly with barely any resistance,
until it was in to the six-inch mark. "Hey, what's that?" said Brad through
his hoarse breathing. "It's a device for measuring muscle strength," said
Mr. Stearns casually. "We want to find out how in shape you guys are down
there." He looked at the meter at the other end of the tube, which rated
muscular tightness from 1 to 10, depending on how tightly the boy's rectum
squeezed the tube and displaced the air inside it. Right now it was at 6.
Stearns continued to jack Brad off, increasing the speed with which he
stroked the huge teen cock. The needle began to move, rising gradually from
6 towards 7, then higher. Brad was breathing hard now, the slick handjob and
the tube up his ass pushing him relentlessly towards orgasm. Stearns saw his
balls start to twitch and felt his cock grow even harder in his expert hand.
He nodded to Billy, who produced a tall glass beaker which he placed
directly beneath the purple mushroom head of Brad's dick. Stearns aimed the
boy's cock into the beaker and increased his speed. Suddenly the needle on
the dial shot higher, and Brad cried out with pleasure. "Oooooh, cummin',
fuckin' cumming! Aaaaah!" he shouted as several generous dollops of his
thick boycream spurted into the beaker. Stearns continued to shaft Brad's
cock until the last dropped had oozed from it. He raised the beaker, twirled
it under his nose, and sniffed it. "Delicious," he said. "Eight point nine,"
said Billy, examining the meter still dangling from the teen's anus. "Very
good." He exchanged a knowing smile and snicker with Mr. Stearns. After
labeling the beaker and recording the amount, the two men moved down the
line to Coach, in cot #2, then to me in cot #3. They repeated the procedure
with each of us, stroking us to hardness, lubing and massaging our tight
assholes, inserting the tension meter, then jacking us off and recording our
tightness and amount of cum, which they saved. Each of us rated over 8 on
the scale.  Dad was in the fourth cot, waiting eagerly on his hands and
knees. After listening to the three of us 'teammates' getting jerked off he
was already hard himself, though he had no idea what else had gone on.  None
of us did until it happened to them. When the rubber hosing being forced up
his ass complemented the incredible sensation of Mr. Stearns' warm,
well-lubed handjob, it didn't take long before he was grunting and bucking
his hips. Billy grabbed a beaker and placed it under his cock just in time
to catch the first of several shots of cum. Dad shot so hard that the cum
splashed up the sides of the beaker. "Cool," said Billy.  The two men packed
up our samples and equipment, and Billy wheeled the box out of the room.
Mr. Stearns stopped at the door with his hand on the light switch. "Lights
out at ten every night," he ordered. "And if you guys want to jerk
yourselves off to sleep, tonight's your last chance to do it." He shut the
lights, leaving his last comment unexplained. Soon we were snoring away in
our beds, exhausted from our first day at the farm.

We woke up suddenly to the sound of a buzzer ringing and the bright
fluorescent lights of our bunker flickering on. Brad looked at his watch: it
was exactly seven in the morning. Groggy and unaccustomed to waking up that
early, he and the rest of us rubbed our eyes and stirred slowly in our
raised cots. Each of us lay back for a moment, recalling vague but highly
erotic dreams from he night before. Dad was the first to sit up. When he did
he noticed something very odd: a clear rubber hose running from beneath the
bottom of his sheets and up to the ceiling, where it was suspended by the
metal railing system over our cots. At once he whipped off his sheet and was
shocked by what he discovered. His flaccid cock was encased in a clear
plastic vacuum pump, with a rubber ring at the base where it met his groin.
Around the cock itself was a pink rubber ring attached by thin wires to the
end of the tube, and at the very end of the pump was attached the hose that
led to the ceiling system. We had discovered the same thing. Our cocks were
encased in vacuum pumps that were so light and well fitted that we hardly
noticed them.  Each had a clear plastic hose that led up to the ceiling
rails, where they all met in the center and fed into a single tube that ran
through the wall to who knew where.  Brad touched the pump and fiddled
slightly with it. "Don't touch that!" someone barked. It was Mr. Stearns. He
had just walked in with Billy and seemed relieved to have caught Brad.
"We'll show you how to remove those in a minute." He strolled down the
aisle, checking out each of us, well-muscled hairy guys, in our partitioned
cots. "How did you fellows sleep?" "Great!" they all replied. Billy smirked,
knowing what that first night was like. "I suppose you men are a little
surprised at what you've found this morning. Well, let me explain."  He held
up a plastic jug on it with a picture of a flower. "This is what it's all
about. You guys aren't here to harvest, to pick or plant. No, you're
here--to produce!" Taking pleasure in our puzzled expressions, Stearns went
on to explain. This is a cum farm, and you are the livestock who'd provide
his product. Grandpa found a way to take semen and transform into a powerful
and safe fertilizer, so effective it could make plants grow over twice as
fast. But there was a hitch: the semen had to be very fresh when it was
processed, and high in testosterone, and that meant harvesting it from
healthy men only. Our cum was highly valued too--up to $5 per milliliter,
making Grandpa a rich man indeed. "So that's how it works."  "You will all
be milked on a regular basis--six times daily in fact, and all your cum will
be reserved for processing. All you guys need to do is stay healthy, sleep
and eat well, and enjoy yourselves." Then he walked out. Billy took over and
explained the details. We would be milked at regular intervals, which meant
every four hours. Last night our samples had been taken at ten, then after
being fitted in our sleep with the pumps and hoses, they had been
mechanically masturbated at 2 a.m. and 6 a.m. sharp. That would be the
regular schedule, he said, and he would explain the rest as they day went
on. He instructed them on how to remove and reattach the pumps; it was very
easy, even pleasurable. Then we showered, put on white tank tops and nylon
shorts, almost uniform-like, and then we were led to the dining room.  We
ate well and after a short rest were brought outside at eight-thirty. "For
the next ninety-minute period you will exercise," said Billy. "The morning
physical activity will change each day." They did jumping jacks, sit-ups,
and finally ran. Stearns watched through binoculars from the side, enjoying
the sight of the guys' large, flaccid cocks flopping up and down in our
loose nylon shorts as we jumped and ran. We were not permitted to wear
underwear, not that we really minded, but this was so our cocks moved freely
in the thin shorts, and the frequent rubbing against the silky material
ensured that we all had impressive hardons by the end of the workout. Our
erect pricks jutted forward, causing the backs of our shorts to cling to our
sweaty round asses. At ten a.m. sharp Billy blew a whistle and we all
stopped. He ordered us over to a high brick wall at the end of the workout
field and had us slip out of our shorts and face it with our hands on the
wall, leaning forward, legs spread, as if we were being arrested. He walked
up with a clinking box of glass beakers and a bottle of lube. "Milking
time," he said. Stearns insisted on milking us immediately after heavy
exercise, because it made our semen richer in oxygen and more fertile. That
was fine by us, since we had been deprived of our habitual morning jack-off
and were more than ready for a little relief. We lined up in the same order
that we slept. One by one, with a hand almost as skilled as Mr. Stearns',
Billy gripped our rock hard cocks in his well-lubed hand and jacked us off
into the beakers, giving each a final squeeze as we oozed out every drop of
cum in our balls. It was a plum job for Billy, who got to watch our firm
round hairy asses buck and tremble as we came. He was permitted by Mr.
Stearns to take small liberties, such as occasionally prodding or rimming an
asshole or tweaking of nipples if we seemed to be taking a little long. They
were highly effective tricks and never failed to bring on the hot cream.
When all us team members had given up our fresh cum, we headed off to wash
up and relax in the lounge. After lunch, we had leisure time with video
games, TV and movies. We were forbidden to drink or smoke, but being such
healthy specimens we were hardly inclined. At two in the afternoon Billy and
Stearns returned. This time Mr. Stearns explained the schedule. "Every
afternoon at two you will have freestyle masturbation," he said. "You can do
it however you like, and take as long as you like, just as long as you don't
spill a drop." He smiled as he watched Billy instruct us in how to hold the
beakers to our cocks so we could catch all the cum. Each of the us were
given a bottle of lube. "There are porn videos and magazines in the
cabinet," said Billy's as he walked out with Stearns. "Help yourselves."
Brad picked out a hot stag video--all the porn was straight--and slipped it
into the VCR. Soon he was noisily pumping his slicked-up cock as he watched
a couple of women getting gang-fucked by five men. We all followed suit,
watching the video, looking at mags, or just lying back on the sofas with
our eyes close as we casually stroked our huge cocks. After the rapid
whack-off this morning on the workout field we were glad to have a more
casual masturbation. Then the lounge doors flew open and the two bosses
walked in, looking disappointed. "Sorry guys, but that's not quite how it
works." said Stearns. "It seems you've all forgotten the important lessons
of yesterday afternoon." The guys looked puzzled, our hands still lightly
stroking our fully thickened cocks despite our apprehension. "Teamwork, God
damnit! Teamwork!" shouted Stearns. "If you guys just do it by yourselves,
you'll underproduce. But if you've got a buddy to get you off while you
relax, you can produce ten percent more! Now, let's see a little team spirit
here!"  Coach and Brad paired up, as did Dad and I.  We began touching, then
stroking each other's cocks and balls, and then each other's nipples and
asses. Coach and Brad were slowly but firmly jacking each other's cocks
while Coach also fingered Brad's nipples. Dad helped me to my knees while he
sat back on the sofa. Gently but firmly he held my head between his hands
and lowered me onto his rampant cock. I began to suck and slurp on the thick
meat, and responded enthusiastically when Dad also guided my hand to his
balls and told him me to caress them.  "Now, that's what I like to see,"
said Mr. Stearns enthusiastically as an obvious erection tented his crotch.
"Everybody helps each other out--the team way--and that way we all win big.
Just remember that if you're the one sucking or jacking your buddy off,
you're the one responsible for making sure his cum gets saved in the
beaker." We did not respond, now fully caught up in the hot action with each
other. Fingers were slipping into asscracks, teeth were gently nibbling
erect nipples, and everywhere hips were pumping and grinding. A sweet,
distinctive odor filled the room, which was also kept slightly warm to
ensure increased productivity. Stearns and Billy walked out and headed to
the control room, where they continued to watch on the video monitors. In
the warm, relaxed atmosphere of the lounge, the team members were well into
our mutual jacking and cocksucking.  First it was Brad, gripping his brother
by the shoulders and breathing hard as he produced an impressive series of
thick wads.  Dad's groans were growing louder as I continued an apparently
expert blowjob. Dad's big hands were wrapped around my head to make sure he
got sucked off. "Yeah, baby, suck it just like that...uh...fuckin'
awesome..." he groaned. He started to buck his hips, banging his groin into
my face.  I felt the Dad's cock increase in hardness, and reached for the
beaker. "No...naw...it's too late...gonna fuckin' cum," he gasped. I jacked
the Dad's thick cock off into the beaker. "Aw yeah....yeah...huuunh!"
"Thanks, son,"  Brad asked Dad to kneel on all fours beside him on the
couch, with his ass pointing enticingly toward him. Brad sat back and let
Coach jack him off with both hands, while he lubed up a finger and slowly
wormed it into Dad's anus. "Ooooh, yeah," said Dad, shuddering with pleasure
and remembering how Mr. Stearns had fingered him last night. With Coach
taking care of his cock, Brad devoted all his attention to finger-fucking
Dad and stroking his amazingly furry yet muscled asscheeks. Coach grasped
Brad's huge teen cock from underneath and began to jack him off rapidly.
The fingerfucking and cock-jacking sped up, as did our breathing. Dad bucked
his hot ass against Brad's vigorous finger-banging, andBrad's wriggling
finger up his ass brought him over the edge. "Aw yeah, hunh, fuckin' bitch!"
he shouted, changing his caresses of Dad's bubble butt to two final stinging
swats. He shook and fired his cum right into the beaker as Coach continued
to bring him off. Shot after shot blew into the glass until he sat back
exhausted and let his hand slip from Dad's tight anus.  At last Coach froze
and shuddered, and with a long sigh ejaculated generously into the beaker.
We teammates cheered one another, then lay down in the chair's and sofas,
thirsty and exhausted. "Very nice," said Mr. Stearns as he watched the
monitor in the control. "These guys are definitely high-calibre producing
stock. Mmmm, yeah..." and with that he leaned forward and slid his hard
twelve-inch shaft up into Billy, who was leaning over the console with his
pants around his ankles. Stearns really enjoyed the sight of us getting each
other off, just as he'd watched Billy do it with his teammates last summer.
He grabbed Billy's hips and pumped him harder. "Just as tight as ever," said
Stearns.  It wasn't long before the boss himself was cumming, squirting his
cum into Billy's bowels with a satisfied grunt. Billy was busy whacking off
too. Then they would rest as well, and get us guys ready for the evening
chores.

For the rest of the afternoon we did small chores around the farm: cleaning,
gardening, and some laundry. We had a good time with it, since our spirits
were high, knowing we were helping Grandpa out while he was away.  None of
us even felt the least discomfort after being masturbated five times in the
past day: we were all healthy studs who were jerking off three times a day
at home anyway, and would've done more if they'd had the chance. Stearns
liked to see us having fun too, for he knew that keeping us in good mental
health would keep our juices flowing. At a quarter to six we were marshaled
off to the barn for the six o'clock milking. Stearns and Billy led us to the
same room where we started yesterday, except now there were four large
armchairs seated around the large-sized TV, and there were wires and small
machines leading from every chair. We were stripped and we each took a seat,
were ordered to belt ourselves in with a kind of seatbelt. We were each
given a bottle of lube and a special condom with an extra-large reservoir
tip, designed especially for high-producing studs like us.  "The morning
post-exercise milking is done to obtain a high oxygen content," he said.
"But because it is taken quickly other nutrients in your samples are
deficient. In order to obtain a higher nutrient grade, the 6 p.m. samples
must all be extracted very, very slowly." He turned and put the tape in the
VCR and turned it on. To no one's surprise, it was another porno, and
instantly we fitted our condoms and reached for our lube. "Now before you
guys start spraying all over the place--" they laughed at this, "--you
should know how this works," continued Stearns. "In order to allow the
nutrients to build up high enough in your cum, you have to take no less than
THIRTY MINUTES between the time you start jacking and the time you blow your
wads. Is that clear?" "Yes sir!" we answered together, though we had no idea
how they could hold off that long.  In the TV room we were lazily stroking
our big cocks while watching a video in which a small blonde boy was sucking
off a large black man.  After a few minutes the action in the video picked
up.  The man picked the boy up by his waist and laid him on all fours on the
bed. He got behind him and shoved his huge cock into him and started to pump
him doggy-style. Immediately we responded by jerking off more rapidly.  The
video had heated up to a group sex session of three boys and their dads,
making it impossible for us not to watch. Every one of us had a slow trickle
of pre-cum leaking continuously down our shafts and into the condom. By
twenty-eight past, Brad couldn't take it. "Aw man, I can't do it...can't
hold off, gonna cum...yeah, gonna...OW SHIT!" he cried out.  It was
unbearable to hold off the remaining minutes: clear, fluent pre-cum was
flowing freely from each of our cocks and lubing up our condoms from the
inside, increasing the pleasure. Sweat ran down our hairy chests, causing
the hair to glisten in the low light. Our balls and cocks ached from the
constant shafting and the long delay. At last it was twenty-nine after now.
We were panting and groaning, squirming in our chairs as we struggled to
delay our orgasms for less than a minute more.  Our groans and breathing
deepened as the second hand ticked momentously towards the minute. Then
finally it was six-thirty, and a small bell rang. The room exploded.
Everyone in the room let out a loud yell and gripped his cock with intense
pressure as we started to cum.  Our balls were all spasming and pulsing in
unison as we poured what felt like a double load of cum into the condoms.
Shouting and moaning, not caring how we sounded, we squeezed our thick cocks
tightly as every one of us experienced the most agonizingly delicious orgasm
of our entire life. Mr. Stearns was pleased at the outcome.  He personally
removed the condoms from each of us.
Our cocks were now flaccid but still flaming red at the prolonged swelling,
and the condoms slipped off easily without spilling our valuable, highly
scented contents. As a reward the team was fed a very satisfying dinner and
given plenty of time to rest. Despite our earlier condition from the six
o'clock jack-off, we recuperated quickly and our discomfort soon passed. We
played video games loudly and made crude jokes in the lounge.  When we
returned to our partitioned cots in the old dairy barn, each of us found the
following note taped to the inside wall of our partitions.  "MILKING
SCHEDULE: 0200 Mechanical collection 0600 Mechanical collection 1000
Post-exercise milking 1400 Freestyle masturbation--with TEAM EFFORT 1800
Delayed-response collection 2200 Evening sample collection.  Team members
are responsible for getting proper rest and food intake. Alcohol and tobacco
are strictly forbidden, and there is to be ABSOLUTELY NO unauthorized
masturbation or other sexual activity without the consent of management."
That last warning was a stern one: at a final market value of over $5000,
the daily cum supply was not something Grandpa wanted anyone tampering with.
As we were undressing for bed the doors opened and the now-familiar sound of
the wheeled trolley with the box of clinking beakers entered the room, with
Billy and Mr. Stearns behind it. Brad, Coach, Dad and I all turned dutifully
over and got on our hands and knees, ready to provide our bosses with the
evening sample. They raised our asses high in the air, with our cocks and
large hairy balls dangling beneath them, and it was a sight that brought joy
to Stearns eyes. Soon the exquisite, awe-inspiring sound of four hairy
muscled studs getting hard and cumming filled the room. He and Billy moved
down the line as they had last night, jerking us off into the beakers with a
good night finger up our tight hairy asses.

Your comments on this part and/or suggestions as to where this story should
go from here would be welcome.   pouchfull@hotmail.com