Down on the Farm!

PROLOGUE

This is an inspiring, but little-known story!

It's from the early life of one of the great Victorian philanthropists, Sir Roland Butt. Our hero was just plain Roland Butt when these events took place. But he never forgot the experience we're about to relate.

In 1855 Butt's Farm was a fairly big fruit and livestock farm in Kent. The farm was just north of Pratt's Bottom and due south of Elmers End. (Really! Look it up on any map of Kent.) Its young landlord, Roland Butt, had acquired the farm on the death of his father.

In August that year Roland came down from London to survey the property. His young University pal, Freddie Haunch, was with him.

The Kentish workforce had been severely depleted in 1855. Most able-bodied men had been conscripted into the Army for the Crimean War. So the farming was done by a team of about twenty 'land girls', under the supervision of the tenant-farmer, Mr Cobblestones.

Roland and Freddie were new to farm life, and were entranced by the whole set up. It helped that 1855 was such a glorious summer. The two young men spent their whole time out of doors. They wandered through the fields, lounged by the river, and chatted to Farmer Cobblestones. And watched the girls go by!

What a bevy of healthy, good looking country women! Owing to the heat, they were quite scantily clad (by Victorian standards). Friendly and courteous. Utterly charming!!

As a respectable married man, Roland had to rein himself in a bit. But Freddie was like a boy in a sweet shop. It was one dashed fine-looking woman after another! And they were all so obliging and respectful. At 21, Freddie was still a virgin. But maybe that sad state of affairs could change in this delightful spot....?

After the young men had been on the farm a couple of days, Roland's young wife joined them.

To the casual observer, Edith Butt just seemed like a beautiful and lively young woman. But Edith Butt was later to become one of the Victorian era's most formidable advocates of social reform. And even in her youth, there was a questioning, challenging side to Edith.

Butt's Farm would be Edith's first experience of the rural economy. She was keenly interested to see how it operated.

So Edith started to explore the farm, and get out among the farm workers. Coming from a fairly sheltered upper-class background, Edith found it a real eye opener.

Accordingly, a couple of days later she sought out her husband for a long talk.

"Roland" Edith said, "do you plan to make any changes at the farm?"

"I don't think so, darling" her husband replied. "It's quite profitable, you know, and Farmer Cobblestones is very efficient."

"Efficient?" Edith said. "That man is nothing but a slave driver!"

"Well, I don't know, dear" Roland responded. "The girls all seem happy enough."

"Of course they're going to be polite and friendly to YOU. You're the big boss. But have you and Freddie really talked to them? Or are you just happy to ogle the pretty ones?"

"Darling, you're jealous!" (Watch it, Roland! Not a clever thing to say to one's wife!)

"I AM NOT JEALOUS!!

"Do you two have the faintest idea what those poor women are going through, while you're leering at them? They work from dawn till dusk, which at this time of year is 5am to 9pm. 6 days a week. No holidays. All weathers. Half an hour break for lunch (which they have to provide themselves).

"No protective clothing. No toilets. No equipment to help them do the slightest thing. And they even have to wait at table in the evening, if the great Lord of Butt's Farm wants to have a banquet. (Like you did last night, when your pal Freddie was drooling like an ass over the waitresses' décolleté.)

"And don't talk to me about Cobblestones' 'efficiency' either. He could make life easier for the women in all sorts of little ways, but he never does."

Roland had really walked into that one, hadn't he, readers? To his credit, the young man didn't try to defend himself, but he did speak up for Farmer Cobblestones.

"I'm sorry, darling. Maybe I should have been taking more notice. Perhaps Cobblestones is a bit harsh, but he drives himself very hard, you know. Mrs Cobblestones passed away a couple of years ago, and his only son has been called up for the Army. The poor chap lives for his work now -- he's got nothing else."

Seeing her advantage, though, Edith pressed it home.

"Listen, Roland, dear, you've got obligations to these people. And you must set Cobblestones a better example. Look, why don't you, Freddie and Cobblestones put in a day on the farm yourselves? And give the women the day off. They can watch you working on the land."

"I say, Edith, that's a topping idea!" said Roland. "I'll learn all sorts of stuff. And I'm sure Freddie will be game. And if the girls want to leer at me and Fred and old Cobblers for a change, they'll be very welcome to watch, ha! ha! Mind you, I don't like the idea of this 5am start, eh what?"

"No, dearest", said Edith. "Let's make it 9am, so you can be fully breakfasted and ready for anything. After all, you might find yourselves a bit exposed!" she added, rather mysteriously. And then she muttered to herself "JEALOUS, am I? We'll see about that!"

FUN ON THE FARM!

The next Saturday was the appointed day. It dawned hot and sunny. What a lovely day to be down on the farm!

Roland, Freddie and Mr Cobblestones breakfasted heartily. Roland and Freddie were looking forward to an exciting new experience, but Mr Cobblestones was more cautious. "I don't think this is wise, Mr Butt", the farmer muttered uneasily. "Give these women an inch...."

"Nonsense, Cobblestones", said Roland. "It'll be fun. And look how keen the women are! They're all waiting outside for us."

Indeed, every single one of the farm women was there. (Even though they'd been given the day off.) Edith had had a long chat with the women the day before, and they'd all immediately signed up to help out today. Such splendid team spirit!

Edith was waiting for them. She looked cool and lovely in a floaty summer dress and hat. She greeted the three men very cordially. But also with an air of suppressed excitement. In fact the whole atmosphere was somehow quite electric.

"Right, gentlemen" said Edith. "You're now under orders for the day. Agreed?"

"Yes, dear. Whatever you say! Strict discipline, ha ha!"

"Good! First of all, those fine clothes will never do. Get changed. Any protective clothes can be found over there." And she pointed the way.

So the three men went off to get changed. They were directed to a lean-to behind the cowshed. It was basically a small square wooden room, standing on the bare earth. It had no ceiling and was effectively three walls of wooden planking. (The fourth wall being the back of the cowshed.)

Still, the walls were high enough to be private, and so the men stripped off. Once they were completely undressed, they hung all their clothes and boots on the wall. , The three naked men then looked around for their farm overalls. Nothing to be seen.

"I say, Roland!" asked Freddie. "Edith did mention 'protective clothing' didn't she?" There was a stifled giggle from outside. Roland suddenly had a sick feeling. It started in his stomach, and then travelled down to his very bollocks.

"No," Roland spluttered. "She said 'ANY protective clothing', Freddie. Which means 'IF there is any, it might be in there'. And we don't actually supply protective clothing, do we, Cobblestones?"

"No, sir, I think Mrs Butt is trying to prove a point of some kind."

"QUICKLY, men! Let's get our clothes back on again!"

But then the matter was suddenly taken out of their hands!

CRASH!! The three walls collapsed outwards. (They'd only been propped against each other.) The wall with the clothes pegs on was now lying on the ground, with our heroes' clothes strewn on top.

SCOOP!! The clothes were gathered up with suspicious speed by unknown hands and suddenly disappeared.

DAMN AND BLAST!! Roland, Freddie and Farmer Cobblestones were left stunned, staggered and bewildered. And totally nude!

As 'luck' would have it, every woman on the farm just happened to be standing around, just as the walls collapsed. So the three men were completely exposed, in all their horrified, full-frontal hunkiness. What a great situation! Sorry, I mean, how very unfortunate.

Let's just take stock of what the farm women saw.

Quite a range of male talent! One blond, one dark and one shaven head. Three different builds, but all pretty fit. Skin ranging from white and smooth, to brown and weatherbeaten. Smooth chests and hairy chests. So something there for every taste!

But with a few common features. Namely, three gasping, gulping, astonished faces. Three large male bodies, with all sorts of rippling, trembling, fleshy bits to look at. And three juicy cocks exposed suddenly to the light.

Edith quickly seized the initiative. She wiped the smile off her face, stepped forward and greeted the naked men.

"Ah there you are, gentlemen! Err... stripped for action, I see! Well, it certainly is a warm day, so I can see your...errr....point. In fact, I can see every point you've got! Ladies, I take it you have no objection to the gentlemen's...errr...costume?"

"Oh no, ma'am!" they all said, looking as if butter wouldn't melt in their mouths.

"Good! Well in that case, gentlemen, we'll lock your clothes securely away, and re-issue them to you at the end of the day. Depending on your performance, of course! We are all driven by performance on Butt's Farm, aren't we, Mr Cobblestones?"

Cobblestones was beyond words.

"So, gentlemen", said Edith, not wishing to give them any time to think. "You have a busy day ahead of you. You must not...errr...droop before the challenge! But never mind, the farm ladies will be with you every step of the way." (The men's shoulders slumped at that!) "And the ladies will help to...errr....stiffen your resolve. Now let's look as if we mean business! Shoulders back! Chests out! Chins up! And perk those buttocks!"

Edith walked round the three naked men as if they were on parade, and slapped their bottoms encouragingly.

So how did the men shape up?

Let's take Roland first. The young master of Butt's Farm didn't feel very masterful right now. Which was a shame, because he looked absolutely great naked -- everybody thought so!

In later life, Roland Butt became quite fat. But as a young man, all the fat was still muscle and brawn. Six feet four inches tall with a 44-inch barrel chest, massive shoulders and wrestler's physique.

Roland had thick black hair -- wavy on his head, and curly round his private parts. Being a town gentleman, his body was white all over. But it was chunky, hunky and knobbly in all the right places.

From the rear, you could see that everything came together in Roland's backside, which was big and beefy and seemed to give him plenty of thrust.

But let's not beat about the...errr...bush! Let's get a good look at Roland's front. Roland's cock was lying limp at the moment, but it was very thick, dangled down well below his balls, and had an impressive knob end. The more experienced farm ladies reckoned it could be nearly a foot long when Roland was really in the mood! It would be interesting to see how Roland compared with Beanstalk, the farm bull.

Yes, the farm women really licked their lips over Roland. Mouth-watering rump steak. Yummy!!

Then there was Freddie, who everyone thought was really cute!

Freddie's pink-cheeked embarrassment, floppy fair hair, and appealing blue eyes got the ladies feeling motherly. But then, as they looked further down his body, their motherly feelings got a bit less pure.

At first sight, Freddie was just a tall, skinny kid. Take a closer look, though, and you saw the long muscular thighs of the distance runner. The lean plates of muscle covering his back, ribs and shoulders, which you got from rowing.

For Freddie had been a double Cambridge Blue in rowing and running. Those two excellent sports both gave you a great arse. And sure enough, Freddie's bum was very full and nicely firm.

So far, so good. But what really got the women breathing hard was Freddie's simply outstanding cock and balls! It wasn't that they were big. It's just that they were prominent. You'd have to be blind to miss them!

Freddie was blessed with high, flaring buttocks, slightly bandy thighs, two big bollocks and a scrotum like a string bag. The term 'plain as the balls on a dog' sprang to mind. Whether you were in front of Freddie or behind him, there were his balls in plain view -- large, succulent and seemingly on springs.

Freddie's penis was another marvel of Nature. It wasn't a monster like Roland's, but it was big and tasty. And how it stuck out! Springing out from right on top of Freddie's balls, his cock hung at 45 degrees to the ground, rather than burrowing between the thighs. So it was just always there, and 'in your face'! Swinging backwards and forwards as Freddie walked, his dick was more like a baby elephant's trunk.

You're really scrumptious, Freddie, old cock!

Farmer Cobblestones was older than Roland and Freddie, and maybe not so juicy. But you'll be glad to hear that he still got plenty of attention! In fact, some of the more mature ladies were really smacking their lips over the naked farmer.

For the good farmer stood there, fully revealed as a very fit guy in his 40's. Cobblestones had a hard lean body, which showed all the signs of vigorous exercise on the land. Nice meaty backside and long thin cock, which swayed promisingly in the breeze.

So it's nice to see the older ones getting a bit of attention, isn't it? Although, I'd have to say that it wasn't quite such loving attention being given to the farmer.

The ladies were positively beaming at Roland and Freddie, who did look very sweet and boyish. Blushing, tender and confused. But with great potential!

The looks coming the farmer's way were a bit more stern. The general mood was that the farm ladies would play nicely with Roland and Freddie, but deal more 'briskly' with the farmer. Especially those strong, vigorous country women who might have a score to settle.

Naked, Farmer Cobblestones? Yes. Attractive? Yes. Vulnerable? Very much so! Sensing this, Farmer Cobblestone's cock shrivelled, and his balls dangled forlornly in their sack.

Ignoring these undercurrents, Edith chatted away happily.

"So the first thing to consider, gentlemen, is Numbering. Mr Butt and Farmer Cobblestones require all farm workers to be numbered. It's needed for control.

"Now we pin a number on the dresses of the women farm workers. But we can't do that in your case, because (hee! hee!) you haven't got any clothes on!"

"I know!" shouted a voice from the back. "Brand them!"

Ouch! How the naked men winced at that!

Farmer Cobblestones went pale under his tan; his shoulders slumped; and his cock sagged. He trembled from head to toe (and all bits in between). Buck up, man!

Roland's knees knocked together, and his heart pounded. The women were fascinated to see that these movements above and below made Roland's bare bum wobble piteously. Diddums!

And everyone noticed that Freddie, the youngest of the trio, had a reflex action when in distress. He bit his thumb, and with his other hand fumbled at his private parts. You only got the full effect of this when Freddie was in the nude, of course. As they watched Freddie's cock stiffen and then flop down again, the women found this quite charming.

"No, ladies, branding won't do", said Edith, much to the men's relief. "We'll mark them with smit instead." [NB: 'Smit' was made out of a thick grease, coloured with haematite, a reddish mineral. In those days sheep were marked with daubs of smit.]

"Left buttock, I think! Bend over this trestle, gentlemen, and legs apart."

And so the farm women were presented with three lean, twitching, white male backsides. They hardly knew where to start!

Anyway, a '1' was painted very slowly and carefully on Roland's bare arse cheek. A '2' was painted on Freddie's and a '3' on Farmer Cobblestones'.

Roland and Freddie being quite popular, they got off fairly lightly. Under the pretext of lining up the bottoms carefully for the great artwork, the farm women gave the two naked men some great sexy pinches and rubs. Very nice!

Only problem was that our heroes were most embarrassed when they were released, and got 'stiffly' back to their feet. There was much giggling, and talk about having a game of quoits, as Roland and Freddie stood 'to attention'.

Poor Farmer Cobblestones wasn't so fortunate! As soon as he bent over, Molly Smith grabbed his balls from behind. "One false move and I squeeze!" Molly hissed.

Naked, defenceless and terrified, the farmer nearly wet himself! He strained every muscle to be a good boy and stay still. Sweat poured down his bare body, into his arse-crack and matting his pubes. He went cross-eyed with concentration. But finally, the work was done. So Farmer Cobblestones was released at last, with a merry slap on the behind. And a playful little squeeze of the goolies -- just for fun. Which did make him squeal!

Anyway, Labourers 1, 2 and 3 were now ready. Purple-faced with embarrassment; stark bollock naked; and numbered by the rear. Ready for anything!

"Right, gentlemen" said Edith. "Here are your orders for the day. Numbers 1 and 2 to the orchard, under my personal direction. And Number 3....to the pig sty! Under the strict supervision of Mary O'Brien, Molly Smith and Kate Garner."

THE FARMER'S TALE

Farmer Cobblestones groaned. He might have known it. The muckiest job on the whole farm. Something he'd taken great pleasure in allotting to his most rebellious workers -- who happened to be Mary, Molly and Kate!

So off trudged the poor nude farmer. With his three lovely supervisors.

Molly, Mary and Katie were absolutely delighted to be in charge of Farmer Cobblestones for the day! As three of the more mature farm workers, they took quite a lively interest in the Older Man. Mary in particular had been widowed for several years, and was very much on the look out for talent. And their mouths positively watered as they looked 'Labourer No 3' up and down.

He really did look very firm and delicious. Not a pretty-boy body, mind. A fit, strong working anatomy, and my God he was going to work today! Nice long sinewy thighs, flaring up to slim muscular flanks. Buttocks flexing to and fro! Juicy penis dangling! And two hairy meatballs there, which seemed to be trembling a little (maybe with good reason!)

The walk to the pigsty was about half a mile. 'Labourer No 3' occasionally hopped and winced, as his exposed feet hit a stone. But Mary, Molly and Kate were always on hand to spur him on with an encouraging slap on the bare backside.

At one point they had to climb over a stile. Molly went over first. The farmer was next, with Kate behind him.

Over came the farmer's left leg. So the naked man was now gingerly straddling the stile. With a wink to Kate, Molly called out "Oh, do be careful, No 3!" Molly 'helpfully' grabbed his left ankle; Kate grabbed his right; they pulled his legs apart in their 'panic' and....

CRASH!!

AAARRGGHHH!!!

YAROOOOOOOOOOOOOHH!!!!!

And two tender bollocks hit a solid plank of wood very hard indeed.

'Labourer No 3' staggered off the stile, positively DANCING with rage and pain. He clawed at his poor swollen plums, chest heaving, and buttocks tensing and expanding in a most fascinating way.

The spectacle brought tears to the eyes of the three women. But I'm sorry to say they were tears of lewd laughter, not of compassion.

"Oh, you poor man!" said Molly, the hypocrite. "Let us help!"

And with that the three women surrounded the naked wretch, and started stroking, kneading and rubbing his private parts.