by K C Ripley
Sissified by Shayla:
Feminized for the Farm Boys
by K.C. Ripley
Author's note: All characters depicted in sexual acts in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older.
Copyright © 2016 K.C. Ripley. All Rights Reserved.
I should have never taken this stupid job, Pete thought. His car kicked up dust into the hot Texas sun. He was supposed to be driving around to small farmers looking to possibly sell their land. But his cell phone wasn’t getting a signal out here, his GPS wasn’t working, and he was lost. On top of that, his air conditioner had chosen the perfect time to go out.
So Pete had taken a turn on some godforsaken country road, and now he drove down some shitty reddish-dirt road with his windows rolled down in the hundred-degree afternoon. He’d taken off his blazer and rolled up his sleeves, but his dress shirt was still soaked through.
Goddamn, there was nothing out here, he thought. He was originally from Milwaukee, but he’d moved down here to be closer to his wife’s family. And he’d been looking for work for nearly a year until he’d found this.
He took a left onto yet another unmarked dirt road, hoping this one might lead to an actual highway. A mile down, he was about to turn around when he saw the wooden crossbeams of a gate. He stopped the car, kicking up a huge cloud of dust. When it cleared he saw a sign: FARM FRESH EGGS! COME ON IN!
The gate was open, and he thought maybe some old couple might be able to point him in the right direction. He headed down the dirt drive, past twisted mesquite trees another half mile until he saw an old white house to the left, with a barn rising up behind it.
He stopped the car in front of the house and got out.
“Hello!” he yelled. No one came out of the house. No one seemed to be around. Cicadas chirped in the hot air.
“Hello!”
He pulled his phone out again and looked at it. Still useless as a shit brick out here, wherever that was. He thought he heard something from beyond the house. Grunting? The noise was faint and far away.
Pete started to walk around the house when the screen door of the house squealed open slowly and she stepped out. Pete stopped in his tracks. Holy shit.
She wore a red and white checkered shirt, knotted up under her bosom, a white cowboy hat slung on her back with a rawhide strip. She had long dark hair and penetrating dark eyes. Long tan legs descended from a blue-jean skirt into a pair of dusty brown cowboy boots. She was goddamn gorgeous.
“Well howdy there!” she said, a smile lighting up her face.
“Um, hi,” Pete said. He waved his phone in the air. “Can’t get a signal.”
“Course you can’t,” she said, the “can’t” coming out more like “cain’t”.
“Do you maybe have a phone I could borrow?”
“No, sir,” she said, still smiling. “But I got some fresh lemonade in the house.”
Lemonade actually sounded great, but more than anything he just wanted to get back onto a road that was actually marked with a sign.
“That’s okay, thanks,” he said. “I’m kind of lost, actually. Could you tell me how to get back to the highway from here?”
She walked up to him, standing close. He could smell her, like sweet flowers and fresh-cut hay. “Aw, I don’t know if you’re really lost,” she said. She reached out and put her finger on his chest, tracing it down to his belly button. “Maybe you’re just where you need to be.”
Pete felt himself stiffen. He cleared his throat. “Miss, I really—”
“Shayla,” she said.
He smiled nervously. “Shayla. You’re very nice, but I really need to get going.”
She curled a strand of her hair in her fingers and twisted it, looking at him from under those long, dark lashes. “Now what’s so important you can’t sit for a spell and enjoy a nice tall glass of icy lemonade?”
Sit for a spell? Did anybody still talk like that? But damn, she was something to look at, and he was hot and sweaty. He licked his lips at the thought of something cold to drink, then smiled.
“Sure,” he said. “I’d love a glass.”
“That’s more like it,” she said. “You just go on up to the porch and have a seat, and I’ll fetch the drinks.”
Two old wooden chairs sat on the porch. Pete sat in one and tried to relax. The heat actually wasn’t too bad in the shade. He looked around. The farm seemed abandoned. The air was still and silent.
Shayla emerged a few minutes later with a mason jar filled with ice and lemonade, a wedge perched on the lip. “Here you go, mister,” she said.
“My name’s Pete,” he said, taking the drink.
“Okay,” she said, smiling big.
He took a sip. It was cold, delicious, and tangy. He closed his eyes and sighed. “Oh, that’s good,” he said.
“Glad you like it.”
“Aren’t you gonna have some?”
“Nope. I already had a glass.” She leaned on the porch railing with both hands and took a deep breath. Her wonderful breasts swelled and bounced a little. She licked her lips. “You know, you’re kinda cute.”
Pete laughed nervously. “I’m sorry, Miss, but I have a—”
“Shayla,” she said.
“Right, Shayla. I have a wife.”
Shayla looked around. “It’s just…it gets awful boring out here, Mister. Not much to do for fun. If you asked real nice, I might just let you take me out to that barn yonder and do whatever you want to me.”
His cock was pushing up the front of his pants now. He crossed his legs and put his free hand in his lap to nudge it down.
Shayla saw this and smirked. She looked around, a light breeze tossing her hair. “Ain’t nobody around,” she said. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”
He took another long sip of lemonade and wiped his forehead with the back of his wrist. This was like one of those fantasies, something you read about, something that happened to other people. She was right. Nobody would know about it. And wouldn’t he be crazy to just throw the opportunity away?
“I really shouldn’t,” he said.
“But you probably ain’t never had a slice of real country girl pussy, right?”
Pete blushed, and his cock was now throbbing with his heartbeat. He took another sip and laughed nervously. “Uh, no. I guess I haven’t.”
“Well let’s go then,” she said, reaching out a hand. Pete took it. Her hand felt rough, calloused, her grip stronger than he would have imagined. She pulled him up out of the chair and led him to the porch steps.
He was still holding the lemonade. “What should I do with this?” he asked.
“Oh, just put it on the railing there,” she said.
He set it down and she nearly dragged him off the porch, skipping out into the yard toward the barn.
“I’ve already been a little naughty, Mister,” she said, leading him toward the big white barn. “Hope you don’t mind.”
“Sorry,” he said. “What do you mean?”
She giggled, a beautiful little laugh that sounded like wind chimes. “Well, I sorta pissed in your lemonade.” She winked at him.
Pete didn’t know what to think about that. If you’d asked him before, he would have thought the idea would have repulsed him. But his cock was harder than ever, and he really didn’t know what to think anymore. This whole thing was like a dream he expected to wake up from any minute.
“That’s okay,” he said. “It was delicious.”
She seemed happy with that. At the barn door, she let go of his hand and pulled the double doors open. The cool smell of hay hit him.
“Come on,” she said, leading him inside. Shayla climbed up wooden rungs that led to the loft. Pete looked up her skirt to see that she wasn’t wearing
any underwear, and she was shaved smooth.
She looked down at him, smiling, not bothering to close her legs. “You comin’?”
Pete practically jumped onto the ladder and climbed. By the time he reached the top, he was already out of breath. Shayla reclined in a pile of fresh-cut hay, her hat sitting on a nearby bail.
Pete put his hands on his knees, panting to catch his breath. He was embarrassed, but she didn’t seem to mind. After a few minutes, he straightened up and began walking toward where she lay. He unbuttoned his sweaty shirt as he did.
Shayla reached up to the knot under her tits and gave a little jerk. One little tug was all it took, and the shirt unraveled, revealing a pair of perfect, round, plump titties, the nipples small and so pale-pink you could barely see them.
That stopped Pete in his tracks, just stunned by her naked beauty. He tore off his shirt and flung it aside, then fumbled at his belt buckle.
Shayla laughed. “Sugar, before we get down to business, would you mind doin’ me a big ol’ favor?”
“Anything,” Pete said, licking his lips, though his throat felt dry.
“You seem like a real sweet fella, and I hate askin’ you to do something you might feel uncomfortable about, but it kinda drives me wild just thinkin’ about it.”
“What?” Pete said. He stood there in the open loft, buck naked, his cock jutting out red, feeling like it might explode.
She pointed to one of the beams, obscured by shadow, and Pete’s eyes followed her finger. From a single rusty nail hung a clothes hanger, and on that hanger was a white and baby-blue sun dress.
Pete didn’t get it. “You want to wear that?”
She giggled. “No, silly. I want you to wear it.”
Oh. Well that was a little strange, but he’d already drank her piss. Compared to that, dressing up like a girl didn’t seem all that bad. And if that’s what made her finally let him stick his dick in her, he’d wear ten dresses.
“Sure,” he said, walking to the dress.
“Aw, you’re a darlin’,” Shayla said, stretching out and putting her hands behind her head. Her tits hefted up and bobbed as she did this, and the effect was easily the most beautiful goddamn thing Pete could ever remember seeing.
He took the dress off the hanger and pulled it over his head. When he looked back at Shayla, she gave a little clap and patted the hay beside her.
Pete ran to her, falling down beside her in the hay. He reached out, but she pulled back and smiled.
“One more little thing?” she said.
Oh, for God’s sake, Pete thought. What now? He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.
“Sure,” he said.
Shayla reached between two bails of hay and took out a worn leather satchel. From inside, she pulled out a blond wig with pigtails. She looked at him with raised eyebrows.
Pete tilted his head forward and let her pull the wig onto his head. It was hot in the still air of the barn, but he kept telling himself this was just one more little hoop to get the prize.
When he looked up, Shayla straightened the wig, draping the pigtails on his chest.
“Oh my,” she said. “Don’t you look pretty? This is gettin’ me so damned wet, I can’t nearly help myself.”
He reached out for her again, but she turned and stuck a hand back into the satchel.
“But you know what would make it even more perfect?” she asked. She pulled out a tube of mascara and held it up.
Holy shit. She wanted to put makeup on him? How long would that take? He could already feel himself dribbling under the hem of the dress. His balls felt like concrete.
Pete swallowed hard. “Okay.”
Shayla squealed with delight and opened the tube. She leaned in and began stroking his eyelashes with the brush. As she did so, she whispered to him.
“Nobody ever done this for me,” she said. “I had this fantasy in my head for a long time now. I’d just lie awake at night, thinking about it, rubbing myself down there with my finger. I just can’t believe it’s finally comin’ true.”
When she was done with the mascara, she got out blush. Pete tried not to groan. His cock was wilting a little now. This was the most painfully long tease he had ever endured, but he did his best to stick it out.
After she’d swiped his cheeks with blush, she pulled out a tube of ruby red lipstick.
As she slathered it on his lips. “You don’t even know how downright amazing this is gonna be,” she said. She leaned back and put the cap on the lipstick as she inspected him. “Mister, you’re about to get the fucking of a lifetime.”
This made Pete start to stiffen again, but before he could do or say anything, Shayla sprang to her feet and ran back to the ladder, her tits bobbing and swaying.
Now she wanted him to chase her? Maybe she was just bat-shit crazy. He thought he might have just been roped into her lunacy by the lure of sexuality, those perfect tits and that silky smooth pussy. Fuck it. He was already tired, and cock-teased to madness, but what else was he going to do?
Pete got to his feet and ran after her, but she was already down the ladder by the time he started down. Then he heard a clanging noise and stopped moving. He looked down and saw Shayla by the door, a metal rod in her hand, striking the inside of a hanging metal triangle.
“Woo-eee!” she yelled, her tits moving in circles as she clanged the triangle. “Come and get it, boys!”
Boys? What the fuck was she yelling about?
Pete’s foot slipped on the next rung, and he nearly fell. He regained his balance and made his way to the bottom. When he turned around, three tall shadows now loomed in the doorway of the barn. His heart sank.
His first instinct was to run, to hide, but there was nowhere to go. He was sissied up like a little bitch, his boner propping up the hem of the girly blue and white dress. His face was heavy with makeup. And now three men stood just inside the barn.
Shayla tied back up her beautiful breasts in her shirt as she walked over to Pete. She stood up on her tiptoes and whispered in his ear. “I’d like you to meet my brothers.”
Then she stepped back and pointed as she introduced each one. “This here is Lucas.” Lucas wore a dirty white T-shirt, torn jeans, and dusty cowboy boots. He was good looking, with sweaty, curly black hair. He smiled at Pete.
“This is Johnny,” she said, pointing at the next one. Johnny was wearing overalls, no shirt underneath. He was heavily muscled, his arms and chest sweaty. He wore a beat-up cowboy hat, and he winked at Pete from under the rim.
“And finally,” Shayla said, “This is my big brother Tom, but we like to call him Angus. You wanna know why?”
No, Pete definitely didn’t want to know why. Tom stood nearly a full head higher than his brothers. He was a hulk of a man, shirtless, his chest hair matted with sweat.
Shayla turned back to Pete. “See, I figure it like this. You drove up here on our private property without permission and chased me around like a sex-crazed maniac trying to get in my pants. Ain’t that about right?”
“I was just…” Pete began, but trailed off. She actually was right. He was in a bad place, and he knew it.
“Now then,” Shayla said. “I wasn’t lying about it getting real boring around here. My brothers been working the fields all morning, and they could use a little refreshment and entertainment. That’s just about the least you could do for trespassing and chasing their little sister around trying to put your little willy in her. Don’t you think?”
Pete didn’t know what to think anymore. He was sorry he’d ever stopped here. He just wanted to be back out on the road, on the highway, far away from whatever crazy this this was. But he had an idea that wasn’t going to happen until he paid some kind of price, and his ass clenched at the thought of any one of these men using him like that.
“Hm,” Shayla said. “I reckon this little girly don’t want to play. Maybe I ought to go on up to the house and call the Sheriff’s department down here, tell ‘em what happened. At least
your mug shot is gonna look pretty.”
Pete looked down at his feet and licked his dry lips. He’d lose his job. He’d lose his wife. Better this than that. “I’ll do whatever you want,” he mumbled.
Shayla cupped her hand to her ear. “What was that, missy?”
Pete raised his head and cleared his throat. “I’ll do whatever you want.”
Shayla whistled. “Whew, you hear that, boys? Whatever you want. Who’s first?”
The one named Lucas stepped forward, and Pete breathed a small sigh of relief. He didn’t want to have to deal with the giant first, and maybe there was still some way out of this.
Lucas sauntered up to Pete and put a hooked finger under Pete’s chin, tilting his face up so he could get a better look.
“She’s pretty,” Lucas said. “But I like my fillies on all fours.”
Pete looked over at Shayla, who was grinning wide.
“If I were you,” she said, “I’d be getting down on my hands and knees right now.”
Pete hesitated, then lowered himself to the floor.
Lucas lifted up the back of the dress, and Pete felt the cool air of the barn on his ass. “This’ll do,” Lucas said. He smacked Pete hard on his left ass cheek, and Pete jumped from the shock and pain. “Now crawl your pretty little ass back yonder there. I like a bit of privacy.”
He was pointing at the back of the barn, behind bails of hay piled high. Pete had never felt as stupid and humiliated in his life as he crawled across the floor to the back of the barn.
“Ya’ll go on and wait outside,” Lucas said. “I won’t be too long now.”
Pete heard the thud of Lucas’ boots following him slowly.
It was dark behind the hay, the only light were thin sheets of sunshine coming in through the slats of the barn.
“If I know Angus,” Lucas said, “he’s gonna want a piece of that pretty ass. I seen you’re a virgin. I could do you a favor and stretch that out a bit first, but just right now I ain’t in the kind of mood for favors.”
“Look,” Pete said, “this is all just a big mistake. I’m not even supposed to be here.”