CYOA3 – Farmer's Delight – Chapter 3: Going Forward (Patreon)

Previously: Farmer had a run in with the Junimo and with the Wizard in his tower, unlocking a new quest.

Content in this chapter: Farmer attends the town meeting, finds out how his new quest will unfold itself, and has some self-loving time while fantasizing about who to woo first.

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While the first half of the day had been all sunshine and rainbows, as soon as the sun arrived in its zenith, dark clouds had pulled up and started raining down on Pelican Town.

Farmer had spent his hours being annoyed that he had watered his crops in the first place while renovating his tool shed as much as possible during the rainy conditions.

By the time he has to make his way into town proper, the rain has not subsided in the least and there’s even some wind picking up that he has to actively lean into to get forwards.

In short… it’s a mess.

The mayor’s house is a bright beacon in the darkness and Farmer makes a beeline toward it, thankful that someone is at the entrance and holding it open for him. He slips inside, resisting the urge to shake himself like a wet dog. He is cursing softly under his breath, taking off his wide brimmed rain hat and wiping his wet fringe out of his face.

Inside, the room’s air is thick and warm from a lot of bodies standing together. Some turn around and wave toward him, others haven’t even noticed his arrival. He waves back but is mostly concerned with worming his way out of his heavy rain jacket and finding a place to put it. There’s a worrisome puddle gathering in the entrance to the Mayor’s house curtsy of all the soaked jackets hanging there, but there’s little he can do about it.

“Ah, and our newest friend from the farm has arrived as well! Splendid! That means we can start nicely on time. Wonderful.”

Everybody turns around again once the attention is drawn toward Farmer. He makes a face, hoping there’s somewhat of a smile in there, and lifts his hand again in greeting. Luckily, the residents turn toward Lewis again and drag him out of the spotlight.

Farmer finds a place against one of the dressers to lean his butt against as it looks like any other vaguely sitt-able surface is in use right now. His eyes wander over the gathered townsfolk. Almost everybody is here. He’d say the only one missing might be Marnie. She probably is taking care of the kids.

Even the younger folk like Abigail and Sam are there, though once again he feels a surge of an odd little feeling in his stomach upon seeing the young women. Something about Mayor Lewis’ unhinged fantasies must have knocked something loose inside him and he almost feels guilty. As if he had been the one starting to ruminate about knocking those girls up.

In another corner is a new face though; standing right next to Clint is a tall older man, his arms crossed over a massive chest. There’s not much visible of his face beneath the brim of an old hat and behind dark sunglasses. His mouth is set into a neutral kind of scowl.

Farmer has never seen that guy before. Is he a new resident? Or an old one? He can’t remember anybody ever having talked about a missing person other than Jodi’s husband that still needs to come back from deployment.

Hm. Odd.

A melodic clanking like a bell being rung draws Farmer’s attention back to the front. Mayor Lewis has stepped up onto a little footstool, putting him above everybody else. He’s holding a glass in his hand and a spoon in the other, once again clicking one against the other to make that chiming sound.

Once the last ring has subsided, all conversations have stopped as well and the attention shifts to the Mayor. Lewis visibly enjoys being everybody’s focus.

“Well then! Thank you all for coming. I am sure you are very curious as to what these ‘developments’ are I briefly touched on in my letter to you. Well… I do not want to unnecessarily drag things out, especially since some of us need to get back to their loved ones at home. So…” he trails off, clearing his throat and just staring into space for a second as he clearly has lost his train of thought.

There’s a rustling briefly going through the townspeople; nobody says anything but the unease is palpable and even Farmer feels a bit nervous even though he hasn’t been part of the community for all that long.

Finally the Mayor snaps out of it and coughs into his fist before he announces: “Yesterday during my morning walk I got approached by Mister Morris from the local Joja Mart branch. I am sure many, if not all of you, have already seen him once or twice. He’s a very… ah… Mmhh… enthusiastic man.”

Farmer has, in fact, not met this Morris yet, but he’s patiently listened to Pierre bitch about him while the other had packed and ringed up his seed orders and from what he understands, the man is an odious little bastard. He hadn’t thought much about it as Pierre is a bit of a character himself, but Lewis’ description of him now makes him wonder whether there isn’t more truth to Pierre’s tales than he gave him credit for.

“Apparently Joja is looking to expand their storage premises, and they have had a look at our old Community Center. To make things short: They are interested in buying the lot and renovating it into one of their storage facilities to better meet our little growing community’s needs.”

There’s complete silence for a second after that. Lewis blinks, apparently surprised by the reaction – before the gathered people suddenly break out into conversation.

Farmer frowns, tilting his head a little and trying to get a grasp on whether or not the consensus of the townspeople is to be excited or dismayed by the news. It occurs to him after a bit of listening in to scraps of conversation that there is, in fact, no consensus.

He himself? He feels… uneasy at the announcement. Should that have been what these Junimo have gotten up to? Or was he just a big old idiot for having believed Rasmodius in the first place? Maybe the timing was just coincidence…

The first to really raise his voice is, unsurprisingly, Pierre. He jumps up from his chair, his hands visibly balled into fists at his sides. Farmer can’t see the entirety of his face from his vantage point but what he can see is flushed an agitated brick red of anger.

“You’ve got to be kidding me! You can’t look me in the eyes and tell me you’re actually considering this proposition?! It is ludicrous! If we give even an inch more of our land to this damn corporation, we’ll all be doomed!”

“They are givin’ good priced stuff, though,” Pamela pipes up. Farmer had kind of seen her but from the way she had been slouched, he’d been positive that she had been fast asleep. She has straightened up, marginally, from her position, her eyes looking glassy and cheeks swollen from alcohol, but her expression still keen. “They’re the only alternative for us… down on our luck folk.”

Pierre looks for a moment like he has trouble breathing. He presses one hand against his chest as he retorts with a voice pitched high in agitation: “You wouldn’t be down on your luck if you would start pulling your weight! If you ask me, you’re more of a burden on this town than the old Community Center!”

Pam’s face is expressionless as that sinks in before it twists into anger and she shoots into a ramrod straight sitting position, her fist hitting a glass table standing next to her with such force that Farmer winces and a few people around her twitch in concern that she might have broken it – or hurt herself.

“Now lissen here, buddy!” she roars. “You don’t give me that goddamn attitude when everybody in this here room knows you don’t give a rat’s ass about the town! You’re just freakin’ out because you can’t compete with them an’ you’re useless doin’ anythin’ other than pullin’ the money outta hard workin’ folks’ pockets!”

There’s a murmur among the crowd that sounds an awful lot like they’re agreeing with Pamela’s assessment. Pierre takes a step forward. It looks like he’s about to get physical with Pam and, looking at the lady and her tight expression beneath the dirty blond locks of her hair, Farmer is not all too sure who would win in that moment.

“I am an honest business man who has to feed his family!” Pierre retorts, his hand jerking out to his left, gesticulating blindly toward Caroline who is sitting with her face in one hand, looking like she really really wants to be anywhere other than sitting next to her husband. “I know good and well how you all are thinking about me! But I have the unwavering support of my wife and daughter! They stand behind me on this decision – the Center stays!”

His head jerks around, manic eyes searching for his wife’s gaze. “Right?!”

Caroline slowly peeks up from behind her hand, glancing up at Pierre.

He visibly loses steam as it slowly dawns on him that… something isn’t going the way he expected it to go. “...Right?” he asks again, voice gone a a little smaller.

Caroline reaches up and hooks her fingers into the back of his pants, gently pulling on it. “Why don’t you sit down,” she says with the cadence of a mother trying to prevent her child from having a meltdown. “Just… listen for a moment.”

“What do you mean?” he says breathlessly, slowly letting himself get pulled back down into his seat.

“Just… we need to keep the needs of the community in mind. Just listen to what the Mayor has to say for now, okay?”

Lewis clears his throat. There are hectic red spots that have appeared on his cheeks. “Now that that is… done,” he says awkwardly, shooting looks in Pamela’s and Pierre’s direction, “I have taken the liberty of summing up the main pros and cons of us giving up on the Community Center. If you would please listen. The less interruptions, the sooner everybody can start making up their mind and we can all go to our nightly rest.”

He pauses again. In Farmer’s opinion he’s just waiting for yet another interjection by someone, but everybody is quiet and intent. There’s not even a murmuring amongst themselves.

Farmer’s expression is grim as he glances over their heads. He feels a little shock racing along his spine when his gaze comes to rest on the mystery man next to Clint and he realizes that the other is staring straight at him; though the round black glasses make it impossible to say what his deal is.

Lewis starts talking before he can really think about it, his attention snapping back toward the Mayor.

“Well then. A clear pro would be the money that we would receive for a plot of land that has not been used in more than a decade. It started falling into disrepair once everyone started having children and, understandably, started to have different things to do.

Con – it would be an… unideal sight to have in our town and would greatly diminish the desirability for any tourists-”

Pierre jumps up again: “Con, our local businesses would be run out of town by a soulless husk of a mega corporation!”

Things devolve from there as everybody starts to break out into heated conversation. Farmer keeps his quiet through it all, trying to hear some particular arguments out of the crowd but it’s just a general cacophony of voices that the Mayor desperately tries to quell to get back on track.

In the end, they’re all sent home with a vaguely unsettled feeling in their stomachs and Lewis’ tired voice telling them:

“You all have three months to come to a conclusion. I will put up a box here in my home and you are all welcome to throw in your vote whenever you have made up your mind. Please think carefully and calmly about your decision. The future of our town is dependent on it.”

.oOo.

It takes a good long while for Farmer to righten everything back up on the farm the next day after the storm has blown over but toward the afternoon he can finally make his way to the Wizard’s tower.

He debates on just barging in but there’s a part of him that is kind of a little scared of Rasmodius and what he might be able to do, so he raps his knuckles against the thick wood and then steps in without waiting for a reply.

Rasmodius is standing at that same huge cauldron that he had the other day, peering intently into the bubbling liquid. Farmer only knows that the other has noticed his entrance by the short flick of eyes toward him before staring back down, uninterested.

“...So,” Farmer breaks the silence when it drags on for too long and his attention keeps drifting toward the pentagram shape on the cobbled stone floor, remembering how it had felt to get his pussy fucked on there. “You weren’t at the town meeting. But I guess you know what went down?”

“Naturally.”

Rasmodius is apparently not in a talkative mood. He keeps frowning at the thick bubbling liquid, his head occasionally tilting like he is intently listening in on the secrets his cauldron is whispering.

“Naturally,” Farmer echoes in a disgruntled mutter, wiping his palms against his overalls. “So what do you make of it? I thought those Junimo wanted to help me restore the Community Center. But from what I’ve heard, people are really interested in selling it to Joja. I think half of them just want to fuck Pierre over, I’m not too sure about that though.”

He has come closer and is leaning his hip against the thick rim of the massive cauldron. It feels pleasantly warm but certainly not as hot as the constant bubbling would suggest.

Rasmodius’ bushy brows twitch and he glances up to Farmer again. This time his attention stays there, though Farmer is not too certain that he likes it. A fine shudder races along his spine.

“The Junimo are simple spirits of the forest. They are no all powerful Gods. They got the stone rolling, did they not? They opened the stage for you to go out there and… work your magic. Convince the town idiots to dance along your tune.”

Farmer frowns, crossing his arms. He shrugs one shoulder non-committal.

“I don’t know about this, honestly. I’ve been here for like a month; why choose me to do this? I bet the other town residents have a lot more sentimental value in the thing.”

Rasmodius has reached into the depths of his robe but pauses now briefly, throwing Farmer an exasperated look that makes him feel honestly a little self-conscious. He grabs his arms a little tighter.

“Well they did not come here to find out about the Junimo, and they did not immediately agree to a contract! I would say that they are not all that sentimental. Or maybe you’re just a slut, who knows.”

He says it so casually, throwing some herbs that he has pulled out into the cauldron and taking a huge ladle to start stirring the thick liquid.

Farmer’s ears grow even hotter. Somehow it is embarrassing to hear this man say ‘slut’ but it also gets him kind of hot and bothered. He clears his throat and pushes away from the cauldron.

“I still don’t… get this whole thing. How is it supposed to go exactly? What am I going to do to convince people who barely know me about the future of their town?”

Rasmodius sighs long and rattling. He finally stops concerning himself with his cauldron to instead focus his attention solely on Farmer – who is not all that sure if he wants that. The other’s eyes are… honestly intense.

He stands a bit straighter, refusing to take a step back as Rasmodius steps toward him. They are roughly the same height and with how close he is getting, Farmer can smell that herbal and sulfuric mix that is coming off of him. It makes him remember just how good it had felt to get railed by this man.

“You think too much. This is where the magic of the pact you closed comes in. They will be susceptible to you and your suggestions. They will be amenable to your advances. Just do what you obviously do best, stop worrying, and get out there. You only have a few months to copulate your way through town. Go on and get busy instead of wasting my time here with your unfounded worries.”

Farmer swallows thickly. He stares into Rasmodius’ eyes, briefly wondering if he should simply ask him for another round, but the wizard clearly is neither interested in giving him another pussy to plough, nor in talking to him in general.

He just turns around and walks to the back, vanishing inside his bedroom.

“You know where the door is!”

Farmer does, in fact, know. He turns around and makes his way outside the tower, feeling… relieved? Or something? He does not really know except he’s got a half chub and nothing else to do with the rest of his day but make a new video for his audience.

He’s feeling… inspired and full of energy for it for the first time since starting his new life.

.oOo.

Farmer doesn’t talk much during his videos. He’s not much of a talker during sex in general, though he’s got nothing against it. In fact, he’s been enjoying the Mayor’s prattling, as unhinged as it had been, and he liked it whenever Rasmodius piped up to say something.

He doesn’t think that his own dirty talk is too good, though, so he usually just is nice and quiet.

It plays into the other sounds that are going on. Like his deep breathing and the low whines that inevitably start creeping their way out of his throat. Or the wet squelching of his fist on his cock as the pre-cum starts pearling and he smears it down with his shaking, desperately gripping hand…

Farmer is not going wild with it now. He feels antsy and needy and just wants other people to see as he kneels on his bed and fits a plug into his hole while jerking off. He stares at the camera, his thoughts sluggish and all over the place… but all twisting around the things that happened in the past few weeks.

Getting fucked first things first on the dusty ground of his shed… getting fitted with a goddamn pussy for an evening so he could get deep dicked and fantasize about being knocked up – and finally what is going to happen in the future.

As much as he likes to deny it, he can feel that something has changed about his own person. He can feel how there is a prickling going through his veins, his libido having ramped up quite a bit since last night. Since slowly but surely understanding what the Junimo have started kicking loose.

He’s going to… he’s actually going to fuck his way through the community. He’s going to creep from bed to bed and fuck and be fucked to try and… damn. Damn.

Farmer’s face twists as the widest part of the plug starts to stretch his hole. The muscles spasm around it, desperately trying to pull into a cute little pout again and unable to do so. He cups his heavy balls and lifts them out of the way, trying to give the camera as good a view of the action as he can.

He tries to think about who to start with. Someone easy, maybe. Like that cute little bimbo Haley? She’s been so stuck up the few times he’s met her… crinkling his nose at him and looking like he was nothing but dirt beneath her pretty little pumps.

Farmer is sure she’s easy as fuck, though. She’d spread her legs nice and quick if he really tried to bully her a little. Just tease her until she’s ready go get her cunt spread on his cock…

Or maybe he should try it with someone more seasoned? Someone like Robin…? Though would he need to fuck her and her husband at the same time? Oohh… how interesting. How exciting!

He’s no homewrecker, but if everybody is on board with it… why not? He’s got no problem-

Farmer’s breath hitches as another scenario suddenly pops in his head, his fingers pressing hard against the base of the buttplug, popping it suddenly into his eagerly yielding body.

What if he were to try and have a go at Caroline? She seems like she needs a good bit of convincing despite her husband’s occupation. Maybe Pierre could be there too and watch as he gives it to his wife nice and hard-

Farmer has no problem with a good time and cuckolding definitely sounded like some.

He forces his eyes open, staring at the camera and making sure he moves his hand in a way that would not block the sight of him slowly dragging his fist up his cock, gathering as much foreskin gas possible at the tip and then gently nudging his finger into the loose, soft opening it creates.

In his mind he is just slipping from one person to the other. The more he thinks about the whole situation, the hotter he gets for it. Holding Jodi’s mouth closed so she wouldn’t be too loud and wake Sam up as he fucks her from behind.

Letting Sam suck his dick and get some of that curiosity out that he and Sebastian have been working up since finding out what Farmer liked to do in his free time…

He gasps softly, pulling on his foreskin, and nudging his fingertip between it and the crown of his dick. It looks so lewd on the tiny screen of the camera; how the skin bulges around his finger as he taps further down against the base of the plug and makes the oddest kind of sensations zing up through his body.

Maybe he should try a tougher nut to crack at first. He could see what this fellow that had been standing with Clint was all about. Or he could… fuck, he could see whether George could still get it up or maybe his wife would like to suck on a nice hard cock; she’s such a sweet little lady, he wouldn’t mind at all to give her some nice thrills.

Farmer’s hips jerk up involuntarily, his cock flexing in his fist. He pulls his finger out from his foreskin and now that it is no longer acting as a stopper, a deluge of pre-cum drips down over his fingers and down the swollen shaft of his desperate dick.

He lets go of it completely, staring at the camera, chest heaving. He taps harder against the base of the plug, occasionally pressing against it to push the unrelenting material more firmly against his insides.

Head swimming with all the possibilities, Farmer ends the video with a shot of his untouched cock jerking out thick ropes of pre-cum in a nice little arc.

Keeping true to himself, he did not speak a single word during the whole thing.