A Slobby Country Girl Vacation (Patreon)

WARNING THIS STORY CONTAINS: Female Slobification (Weight Gain, Burping, and Farting), Bimbofication, and Sexual Content

WORD COUNT: 6000

Over stressed and overworked, a woman takes up the offer to go on an unorthodox vacation on a farm. With the help of a special concoction, she gets to enjoy the life of a slobby, overweight, bimbo country girl with all of her needs met by a harem of lovers.

This story was suggested by and voted for by my Patrons.

Barn image created by TheMerryWolf: https://twitter.com/TheMerryWolf1

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   With a cloud of dust blowing in her face, Dominique covered her eyes to make out the sight of the truck she rode in on driving back down the dirt road towards civilization. For just a moment she considered running after it, her mind lingering on the stack of paperwork still piled high on her desk back at the office. Even now, she could feel her hand twitch at the thought of pulling her phone out from the pocket of her grey business suit to check her work emails. Just as her finger touched the edge of the device, she vocally reprimanded herself as she stomped a heeled shoe into the dirt. Taking a moment to remind herself that she was here to relax, she pushed her short, black hair back into its neat bun, picked up her suitcase, and started walking towards the building in the distance.

   The remote farm couldn’t be found on any map, making it the perfect place for Dominique to get away from it all. Though she was unable to find anything about the property online, she had been recommended by her colleague, Samantha, to pay a visit. Considering how stressful her fellow business partner used to be, she had to assume that her secret to relaxation could be found somewhere on far off farmstead. Assuring herself that this would be just the thing to help her unwind, she made her way towards the door of the main house and knocked.

   Waiting a few seconds, Dominique picked up the sound of someone in leather boots stomping towards her. When the door opened, it revealed a woman in a set of overalls that showed of her tanned skin, buxom chest, and toned physique. Parting her long, brown hair from in front of her face, the woman showed off a friendly smile along with her freckled cheeks.

   “Howdy darlin,” the woman said with a deep southern drawl. “The name’s Betsy. I reckon you’re the girl Samantha talked about?”

   “Yes miss, my name is Dominique,” she replied. “Thank you so much for having me over this weekend.”

   “Aww, ain’t no problem. Always nice to see new faces round these parts. Now come on in and I’ll get you settled.”

   Following the farm girl’s lead, Dominique entered the house. Already feeling at peace amongst the quaint and simple décor, she made her way into the kitchen. The room welcomed her with a wealth of wonderful aromas drifting into her nostrils. Looking over to see pots on the stove and various trays in the oven, she could already feel the worries from work start to drift away.

   “Take a load off here,” Betsy said, offering up a chair. “Must be pretty tuckered out from the ride over.”

   “Thank you,” Dominique replied, taking her place at the table. “Samantha failed to tell me what exactly the weekend’s itinerary is. What kind of plans did you have in mind?”

   Betsy let out a chuckle. “Yup, you’re definitely her coworker alright. Ain’t no plan for the weekend, other than doing whatever we feel like.”

   “Apologies, but I’m not sure what that means,” Dominique admitted. “I’ve been adhering to a work schedule for so long that it’s been ingrained into my daily life. Being care free isn’t something I’m used to.”

   “Figured as much,” Betsy said as she rummaged through one of the pantries. “Which is why I figured we’d start your vacation with something to loosen ya up a bit.”

   Turning around, Betsy placed a bottle onto the table. Curious about the three Xs painted onto the container, Dominique watched as her host popped open the top. Hovering her face over the bottle, the office worker reeled back from the powerful smell of alcohol. Sitting back in her seat to recover from the fumes, she turned back to see Betsy pour out a shot glass and place it on the table.

   “Drink up,” Betsy said with an expectant grin.

   “What is this?” Dominique asked, cautiously poking at the glass.

   “A little something special I whipped up to help balls of stress like you enjoy laid back country living to the fullest,” Betsy proudly proclaimed.

   “I can’t drink this,” Dominique replied. “Sure I’ve had a few drinks with my coworkers, but nothing this strong.”

   “That’s why you’re here, ain’t ya?” Betsy asked. “To get out of your comfort zone and have some fun. Now come on. You’ll see what I mean when you take your first drink.”

   It was a combination of Betsy’s hospitality mixed with her desire to let herself live a little that got Dominique to pick up the glass. Staring into the clear liquor, she began to wonder just what exactly she was getting herself into. Taking a deep breath and reminding herself what she was there for, she chugged the drink before she could have a second thought. While this helped her down the alcohol fairly quickly, it didn’t prevent her from choking on the after taste. Beating on her chest to recover incidentally led to a small belch leaving her lips.

   “Excuse me,” Dominique said, covering her mouth as her face went red.

   “Eh, that was nothing,” Betsy said with a wave of her hand. “Probably just your tummy asking for a bit of food. Bet you’re hankering for something to sink your teeth into.”

   “I would appreciate that, but shouldn’t we wait for everyone else to get here to eat?”

   “Don’t you fret your pretty little head,” Betsy replied, putting her toned arms to work hauling over a pot to the table. “This one’s all for you.”

   As the farm girl lifted up the lid, a heavenly stench filled the room. Peeking over the edge of the rim, Dominique’s eyes went wide at the sight of a lake of recently cooked chili chockful of beans and meat. Involuntarily her mouth began to water, with her only being able to catch the drool from her lips at the last second.

   “Well go ahead,” Betsy said, ladling out a bowl of chili and placing it in front of Dominique. “Eat up.”

   Unsure how she was going to be able to finish even a fraction of the massive portion, Dominique picked up her spoon for fear of offending her gracious host. Bringing up a tiny nibble of chili to her face let the intoxicating aroma drift into her nostrils. With Betsy looking at her from across the table, she opened up her mouth and took a bite.

   Dominique let out a soft hum as the meaty taste danced across her tongue. Enamored with the flavor, she went back in for a full spoon’s worth of chili followed by another. Absorbed by each bite of the comforting meal, she didn’t quite realize what she was doing until her spoon scraped across the bottom of her empty bowl.

   “I’m UURRP sorry,” Dominique said in an attempt to excuse her moment of hunger.

   “You ain’t got nuthin to worry about,” Betsy said, taking up the empty bowl to refill it. “You must’ve been pretty dang hungry. I’ll fix that up real quick.”

   “I appreciate your generosity but I-“

   Dominique was silenced in the wake of a hungry growl emanating from her stomach. Curious considering how she typically got full on half a sandwich, she pushed her finger into her mid-section. The prod brought her attention to a soft layer of chub that had layered itself onto her gut at some point. Continuing to poke at the added padding under the assumption that it had possibly come from work related stress, she failed to stop another burp from rolling up her throat. Face turning her red, she tried to open her mouth to apologize, only for another belch to come out.

   “Like I said, nuthin to worry about,” Betsy repeated upon seeing the guilt in Dominique’s eyes. “Heck, no one here’s gonna fault ya for letting it all out. Besides, I think it’s a compliment to how much you enjoy my cooking.” Grasping the edge of the bowl, she pushed it a little closer to the office worker. “Don’t be shy now. Eat your fill.”

   Plagued by her own appetite, Dominique relented in dipping her spoon into the bowl once more. The excellent taste helped her to work through her lingering embarrassment and pushed her to finish off the serving in half the time as the first. Though she tried to prevent Betsy from giving her thirds, her pleas were drowned out by a series of stomach growls. Pushed forward by her hungry belly, she began to lose track of just how much she was eating. As soon as she would empty out a bowl, Betsy would be at the ready to hand over another serving. Preoccupied with eating bite after bite of the delicious chili, it came as a complete surprise to both her and Betsy when the farm girl tried to get more, only to scrape her ladle across the bottom of the empty pot.

   “Welp, looks like this one’s done,” Betsy said, carrying the pot over to the sink. “Ah well. At least you enjoyed it. Least that’s what I assume.”

   Following the gesture of Betsy’s hand, Dominique turned her attention towards her own body. She let out a gasp as she witnessed the numerous splatters and stains of chili that adorned her suit. She had no recollection of making the mess, nor the sizable potbelly sticking out from her mid-section. Running her fingers along the surface of the taut orb and feeling the various gaps in her shirt where her skin peeked out proved that it was all too real.

   Continuing to rub her food baby in an attempt to purge it from her system, Dominique paused as he noticed something out the corner of her vision. Grasping one of her hair strands, she brought it up close to her face. Staring intently at her follicles, she took notice of several dots of bright blonde interspersed within the black coloring.

   Dominique’s various questions about the oddity of her hair were placed on hold by an ominous rumbling noise coming from her belly. Feeling the pressure build in her gut, she purposefully let out a series of small burps into her hand in an attempt to avoid what was coming. However, there was little she could do to stop the gas bubbles from pushing themselves further down her intestines. Try as she might to hold it in, it was only a matter of time before her resistance gave out and a squeaky fart left her rear.

   For a moment Dominique merely sat there, her face as red as a tomato. What got her to move was the lingering smell of her release rising up to torment her sense of smell. Getting out of her chair with her belly sinking against her thighs, another belch forcing itself up her throat only added salt to her mental wound.

   “Little gas ain’t nuthin to worry about,” Betsy reassured her. “That being said, I’m sure ya don’t want to meet the rest of my crew in shoddy clothes like that.”

   “Yes you’re probably right,” Dominique replied, speaking carefully to avoid anymore outbursts. “If you show me to a wash room I can clean myself up and change into something more comfortable.”

   “Sounds like a plan,” Betsy replied, waving her arm to get Dominique to follow her. “But I don’t think you got anything in that dainty suitcase that’ll feel too comfortable right now,” she added, not so subtly eyeing up Dominique’s stuffed stomach. “Don’t worry. I got just the thing.”

   One shower and a change of clothes later, Dominique followed Betsy out of the house. As the pair made their way over to the barn, the city girl had to keep adjusting the set of overalls Betsy had given her. Granted the outfit partially covered up her still present gut, but the straps were mere inches away from sliding off of her shoulders. The near wardrobe malfunctions were extra worrying considering Betsy had insisted that Dominique skip putting on a bra to really get in touch with her more natural self. Wondering why this also meant forgoing a pair of underwear and leaving her phone behind, Dominique arrived at a side entrance to the barn.

   “Head on in,” Betsy explained as she held the door open. “I’ll join y’all later. Got to grab some stuff from the house.”

   “What’s in this dang ol’-“ Dominique paused for a moment to recover from the random verbal tic. “Um, I meant to ask, what’s inside of this barn?”

   “Some workers I called up from my other farms,” Betsy replied, paying no mind to Dominique’s little slip up. “They’re here to help you live that good ol’ country life. Go on now darlin’. They’re waiting for ya.”

   Heeding Betsy’s suggestion and going inside, Dominique jumped as the door closed behind her. Looking around the barn she had to admit that the sight of the dirt floor and worn down stables had a kind of rustic charm to it. Dealing with a strange sense of longing usually reserved for visiting your childhood home, she crunched her boots across the straw spread across the ground as she made her way towards the gathering in the center.

   Waiting for Dominique at a wooden table were a group of farm hands adorned in the same overalls as herself. Quite of few of them were men who were able to show off their toned bodies thanks to the loose wardrobe. Scattered amongst the muscular males were women that were similarly unconcerned about letting Dominique see the fit forms gifted to them by many hours working on a farm.  As intimidating as their physiques were, each of them greeted the office worker with a warm smile. Taking the initiative, a man with scruffy brown hair and stubble around his squared chin got up to meet Dominique halfway.

   “Howdy there,” the man said, tipping his black, brimmed hat towards her. “The name’s Clement. I take it you’re the guest of honor here?”

   “Yup, I mean, yes,” Dominique replied, thinking she might be catching on to the Southern drawl of the people around her. “Betsy said you would take care of me?”

   “Darn tootin,” spoke up a girl with braided, red hair. “First things first, we gotta get some meat on those bones. You look like you’d be blown away by a cow fart.”

   The laughter that erupted from the table came at just the right time to cover up another ominous gurgle from Dominique’s unsettled stomach. “I fail to see what my physique has to do with anything,” she spoke up.

   “She don’t mean nuthin by it,” Clement said. “She’s just playing around. They’ll be singing a different tune once ya-“

   A knock on the door turned everyone’s attention away from Dominique. While the rest of the group headed towards the entrance, Clement gestured for the office worker to take a seat. Graciously accepting his assistance as he pulled out her chair, she sat down. Barely able to hold back another fart as he pushed her up to the table, she cradled her stomach hoping that it would eventually settle down.

   Dominique’s vigil on her still prominent gut left her off guard as someone stacked something onto the table. Barely managing to stifle the resulting squeaky fart out of shock, she turned her head up to see another pot of chili be placed in front of her. Looking past the cause of her indigestion let her watch as the farmhands carried over more food, such as sausages, bacon, burgers, and hotdogs. Taking her eyes off a collection of various pies, she watched as Clement finished off the ensemble by opening up a cooler of beer and placing cans all across the table.

   “Hope my workers been treating ya right,” Betsy commented, taking a seat next to Dominique.

   “Aside from Gia’s usual jabs, we couldn’t have been nicer,” Clement answered, taking the other spot besides the office worker to trap her between them.

   “Figured as much,” Betsy said, popping open her can of beer and taking a swig. “Well go on now,” she said, gesturing towards Dominique. “Eat up before there’s nothing left.”

   “You got a screw loose or sumthin?” Dominique asked, trying to ignore her modified voice. “After everything I ate back at the house, do you really expect me to stuff myself even more?”

   “Not saying ya got to eat everything,” Clement answered, helping himself to an ear of corn. “Just go until your stomach can’t take no more.”

   “Careful now,” Gia spoke up, “wouldn’t want her to start choking on a half-inch sausage.”

   The laughter that permeated from the red head’s mouth triggered something inside of Dominique. Locking eyes with the woman, she reached out to grab the first thing her hands came across. Wanting to directly challenge Gia, she grabbed a plate of sausages and brought a link up to her face. Acting without thinking, she opened up her mouth wide and began to chow down. Wolfing down link after link was made all the easier as she gave into something akin to an instinctual feeling in her gut. Swallowing down the last sausage, she turned to shoot a smirk towards Gia. Though her display was interrupted by a burp leaving her lips, she regardless received a look of respect on the red head’s face.

   Encouraged by the sudden high of beating down Gia’s assumptions, Dominique let her hands roam across the table to find more things to stuff down her throat. Similarly with the sausages, each dish was eaten with a level of gluttony that was far from normal for the office worker. Any semblance of manners was lost in favor of giving into her ravenous hunger. Treated to a bevy of homemade meals, the only time she stopped was to momentarily glance at the increasing number of blonde strands appearing in her hair.

   Dominique’s lighter locks were just one of many parts of her body being modified over the course of her feast. Her potbelly engorged itself into a proper beer gut as she began popping open cans of booze to wash down her bites of food. Droplets of sauce and crumbs occasionally managed to escape her constantly chewing maw, but they didn’t get very far before being lost betwixt her swelling breasts. Paying little mind to the way her bosom was filling out the once loose fitting overalls, she seemed equally ignorant to the development of her chunky backside hanging off the sides of her chair.

   The gluttonous office worker did pay minor attention to her thickening fingers as she used them to grasp at her next meal. The added heft placed around her arms proved invaluable to brushing her chubby face clean of any leftover stains clinging to her two chins. Shuffling her thick thighs around in her seat as she reached out to grab a slice of pie, jostled around her gut and brought her attention towards familiar sounding gurgles.

   Sitting back in her chair as she finished off the pie, she lazily let her fingers glide across her stomach. Giving the blubbery belly a light squeeze was enough to let a loud belch echo through the barn. On reaction she turned her head towards the others to see their reaction. Just as her usual feelings of embarrassment began to rear its ugly head, each of the farmhands grabbed a can of beer and started to chug. One by one, each person at the table beat their chest to produce a burp that tried to rival Dominique’s own. Easily surpassing her earlier outburst, it then became a challenge to see who could come out on top. Much to her chagrin, Gia seemed to be the leader with a burp that bellowed throughout the barn.

   Unwilling to let the redhead so easily claim victory, Dominique grabbed several cans of beer. Popping open the tops, she lifted them up to her face to begin chugging with reckless abandon. Finishing off the booze in record time, she slammed the empty cans onto the table to leave her hands free to shake her gut. While she could feel the pressure build up from the constant motion, she still had trouble trying to get the gas bubbles where they needed to go. When the pressure finally decided to relieve itself, it came in the form of a thunderous BRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPP blasting out of her rear.

   “Ooo wee that reeks,” Gia said, getting out of her seat. “Were you raised in a barn or sumthin?”

   Fighting against her own sense of humiliation, Dominique heaved herself out of her seat and stomped her way over to Gia. “Nah. If I did, pretty sure I’d turn out like a certain redheaded bitch like you.”

   “The hell you say to me?” Gia said, getting up from her seat to get in Dominique’s face.

   With the red head poking her finger into her gut, Dominique felt her gas shift around once more. Rather than reply with words, she merely let herself release a loud BWOOOOOORRRRP from her mouth to get Gia to back off. Licking her lips as she re-tasted her previous meal, the feeling of exhilaration she felt as the crowd clapped for her performance blinded her to the airy feeling in her head.

   “Settle down y’all,” Betsy said, stepping in between Gia and Dominique. “We’re here to have a good time, ain’t we? I’d rather not spend the weekend trying to break up fights.”

   “Ugh, fine,” Gia said with a huff. “As long as fat ass here apologizes for eating all the dang food.”

   Glossing over the comment that should have clued her into her over 300 pound body, Dominique instead turned her attention towards the table. True to Gia’s words, every last piece of food had been cleared away. Most of the empty platters and plates were piled up where the office worker had been sitting just moments before. Lazily flicking her fingers across the random stains and crumbs littering her outfit that made up the remnants of her feast, she turned an apologetic look towards Betsy.

   “Sorry bout that BWOOOOORRR mam,” Dominique said.

   “Darlin’, it ain’t a big deal,” Betsy replied with a shrug of her shoulders. “I keep a pretty large stock of food back at the house.” Snapping her fingers, she summoned two of the workers to stand by her. “Y’all stay here and have fun while we go get some more grub. Clement, would you mind getting things going?”

   “Already on it, mam,” he answered, stepping away from the table and walking towards a storage bin.

   Digging in the box, he managed to pull out a radio. Balancing the device on a bale of hay, he pulled out his phone to find something to put on. Moments later a high energy country song started blasting out of the speakers. Letting out a collective holler, the rest of the farm hands got busy dancing with each other.

   Dominique had never been the biggest fan of country, or much other music for that matter. However, something about the sounds of the fiddle blaring from the stereo managed to sink into her head to make her start tapping her foot. Stretching a wide grin across her pudgy face, she followed the rhythm as she shook her expanded curves back and forth. Each stomp of her bulky legs sent ripples through her fat that threatened to pop her out of her overalls. The constant vibrations had the adverse effect of partially drowning out the music as she freely let loose with gassy outbursts from both ends.

   Despite Dominique’s frantic movement and rancid aroma, that didn’t stop the other farmhands from joining in with her. More than happy to be her dance partners, they would move in unison with her to try and keep up. On a few occasions, she willingly pulled them in to have their hands grasp her body. Entering a sort of emotional high from the constant dancing and interaction with others, she continued to stomp around the barn until her body was completely slick with sweat.

   Huffing and puffing at the end of a vigorous line dance session, Dominique looked for somewhere to sit. Spotting the chair that had so graciously held her up last time, she waddled her way over and sat down. Paying little mind to the creak of metal as she leaned back, she helped herself to a can of beer to cool herself off. As she lounged there, her nose heavy with her built up stench of gas and sweat, she couldn’t help lingering on how relaxed she felt. It was almost as if the weight of her office life had been replaced with the multiple layers of comforting flab encasing her figure. Mindlessly undoing her hair bun, she let her fingers twirl through her blonde strands without a single thought in her head about how or why they had changed color.

   Dominique’s weariness was swept away in the wake of something wonderful parting through her aroma to hit her nostrils. Heaving herself up out of her chair, her eyes set upon a group of farmhands dragging something in through the main door. Stomping her way over to the entrance, her eyes grew wide with wonder as she beheld a feeding trough typically used for livestock. The container was filled to the brim with a river of meat chunks and vegetables swimming in a greasy river. Looming over the edge, the reflection of the hungry look on her face was interrupted by a droplet of drool falling from her lips.

   “Like my little surprise?” Betsy asked.

   “You bet your BWOOOOOORRRP sweet ass,” Dominique replied. “This all for little ol’ me?”

   “Figured you’d be hungry after shaking your butt til the sun went down,” Clement answered, gesturing towards the view of the night sky outside the window.

   “Well shoot, this here is the greatest UUUURRRP gift I ever done-“

   She paused, looking over at something that didn’t sit right in her mind. “What’s this chicken scratch on the side here?”

   “Oh, I carved your name into it.”

   “Do…min…UUUURRRRPique? That’s not right. My name is UUUURRRP Dottie.”

   Clement looked towards Betsy to share a smile before turning back to Dottie. “Alright, ‘Dottie’ I’ll get that fixed up later. You okay with using it as is for now?”

   “This answer your question?”

   Taking a deep breath, Dottie plunged her head into the trough. Though she was unable to fully see what she was doing, she regardless opened up her mouth to devour anything that met her lips. Whether it was a chunk of a baked potato, a morsel of roasted meat, or just the slurry of lard itself, anything that slid across her tongue was deemed delicious to her simplified brain. She only stopped her indulgent binging to occasionally lift her head up to take a breath or draw more people to watch her display with an echoing burp. Reaching the halfway point, she hoisted her butt higher into the air to reach the lingering morsels and freely let loose her flatulence upon her audience.

   Nearly finished eating out the entire trough, Dottie hazarded to let her fingers take care of an issue plaguing her body. The overalls that had once so comfortably fit around her now pinched at the pockets of fat she had gained over the course of her binge eating. Uncaring of who saw her, she unclasped the buttons on her clothes to let them fall to the floor. No longer bound by fabric, the belly making up the majority of her 500 pounds of bulk slammed against the side of the trough as she resumed her feast. As she dragged her tongue along the bottom to scoop up any leftovers, her melon-sized breasts were free to slide through to gather up a layer of grease along her nipples. Keeping her grip tight on the sides of the trough with the help of her blubbery limbs, her one track mind kept her oblivious to the person standing behind her double-wide rear until they gave the thick ass cheeks a smack.

   Pulling her head up from her feast with droplets cascading down her three chins, Dottie looked over her shoulder to see Gia grinning at her. “The hell you BWOOOOORRRRP do that for?”

   “Can’t really blame me,” the red head answered. “Not every day I get to see a pig with such a plump ass.” Getting down on her knees, Gia sunk her fingers into wealth of fat encasing Dottie’s backside. “Mind if I get a taste?”

   Taking a second to process what Gia meant, Dottie mimicked the red head’s mischievous smile. “Go right ahead but be careful of my farts. Wouldn’t want ya losing that disgusting musk of yours.”

   Any further attempts for Dottie to tease the red head were stopped as Gia set to work moving her mouth around the obese woman’s undercarriage. Releasing a mix of a belch and a moan, Dottie tried to muffle the sounds of her euphoric cries by diving back into the trough. Seeking payback for the rough tongue licks of her rival, she made good on her threat by unleashing a bombardment of gas from her backside. The farts seemed to only increase Gia’s efforts, sinking her face in deeper to focus on Dottie’s weak spots.

   Barely managing to suck up the last chunk of meat, Dottie finally gave in and reached her orgasm. The shivers from her release kept her body jiggling well after Gia had extracted herself. Turning herself around to rest her back flab against the trough, Dottie sat there to bask in her euphoria and let out a few more gas bubbles from her mouth and rear. Though she was satisfied to see Gia stagger away with a lingering wetness on her face and her skin smelling of flatulence, Dottie could still feel a yearning in her body that sought to continue exploring her newfound freedom.

   “Glad to see you and Gia getting along,” Clement said, as he stood over Dottie. “Since ya emptied out your trough, is there anything else I can get?”

   “You’re darn BOOOOOOUUUURRRP tooting,” Dottie answered, lifting herself back up to take Clement’s hand.

   Without a word, Dottie led Clement over to one of the piles of hay. Tossing herself into the makeshift bedding, she rolled around just in time to watch the farm boy hang up his hat before removing the rest of his clothes. More impressed than ever at his toned physique, she eagerly embraced him with her thick arms as he came in for a kiss. As if he had done it countless times before, he managed to squeeze and press his fingers at every part of her body that desired his touch. Feeling his member jostle against her belly, she ended their kiss with a burp and gave him the go ahead to continue.

   Spreading apart Dottie’s legs, Clement took his time nestling his manhood against her dripping pussy. With a thrust he plunged inside of her, forcing out another moan and puff of gas from the gluttonous girl. Heeding her cries for more, he continued moving his hips back and forth with ever increasing speed. Overwhelmed by the feeling of her flab jostling around with each motion, she held out up until Clement overflowed her womanhood with his seed.

   As the farm boy pulled away from her, Dottie couldn’t help laughing. Never had she felt so carefree in her life. The overstressed office worker she used to be was little more than a far off memory in her head. Finding the strength to pull herself out of the hay, she attempted to seek out more partners. Unwilling to stand up, she made her way through the barn by crawling on all fours. Body shaking as she felt her ass wobble and her belly drag through the dirt, she only stopped once she ran into a set of bare, tanned, toned legs.

   “I reckon you’re enjoying yourself?” Betsy asked as Dottie looked up to gaze at her nude form. “Well, we’re just getting started. Mind giving me a little-“

   Dottie didn’t need to hear the rest. Following her instincts, she moved forward to bury herself between Betsy’s legs. Eager to pay back her hostess for the hospitality, she put her hungry mouth to work sucking and dragging at Betsy’s womanhood. Though a few times her burps managed to come out in the process, she knew that she was doing something right as she felt Betsy place her hands on her shoulders to push her in further.

   In the middle of her first time eating a woman out, Dottie could feel someone slide their rigid member up against her anus. Feeling her new partner patiently wait for permission, she asked them to continue through a few shakes of her rear. With a rough push the cock slid the entirety of its girth into her ass. As the person behind her used her backside like a piece of prime meat, Dottie used the ecstasy coursing through her veins to increase her efforts to show Betsy a similar level of pleasure. Thoughts momentarily brought down to that of a breeding sow, she let herself be overwhelmed by her lust as her two partners found their release.

   Reduced to a pile of quivering fat and gas, Dottie had to rely on her partners to carefully bring herself down to the ground. Helping her into a sitting position, they offered a can of beer to quench her parched throat. Chugging down the booze without a second thought, she made her gratitude known via a release of gas from both of her ends. Tossing aside the beer can as she took deep breaths of the lingering smell of desire and her own farts, she turned her attention towards the people looking on from the sidelines. Licking her lips in anticipation, he gestured for them to approach her to continue putting her slobby form through its paces.

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   The haze that greeted Dottie as she awoke tried to keep her eyes closed as the sun shined down on her from the nearby window. While the morning sound of birds and livestock couldn’t rouse her from her sleep, the familiar smell of coffee did make her stir. On reaction she opened up her mouth to let someone pour a few drops down her throat. The fog that had permeated her brain began to dissipate, finally getting her to remember the events of the previous night. Recalling that she was Dominique, she opened up her eyes to see Betsy wrapped up in a robe as she stood before her.

   “Mornin’,” Betsy said, taking a sip from one of the mugs in her hands.

   Slowly coming to grips with her surroundings, Dominique freed herself from the pile of hay she was sleeping on. Unused to the hundreds of extra pounds clinging to her body, it took her a few attempts to stand up. Managing to get to her feet, she paid a passing glance to the numerous naked farm hands in various stages of waking up laying down in the same pile of hay. Recalling that each and every one of them had become intimate with her body, she shuffled her way over to a pair of stools Betsy had set up and carefully balanced her wide rear on them.

   “What happened last night was real?” Dominique asked, her voice returned to its former tone.

   “As real as this coffee,” Betsy answered, taking a swig from her own cup. “My special moonshine let’s folks see what it’s like on the other side of the grass. It’s less about turning ya into a mindless pervert and more just loosening ya up to let you live a little.”

   “I understand what you mean,” Dominique replied. “I’ve never felt so free before. Last night was my chance to really let myself live without a care in the world.” Smiling as she gazed over her plush body, she turned back towards Betsy. “Thank you so much for this experience.”

   “It ain’t over yet,” Betsy said, pulling out a tiny flask from her pocket. “What I just gave ya was another concoction meant to clear up your head a bit. If you’d like, I can spike it with more of my moonshine and Dottie will take the reins again. But if you wanna head home, all you gotta do is drink this coffee straight an you’ll be-“

   Snatching the flask from Betsy’s fingers, Dominique unflinchingly unscrewed the top and chugged it all. Making sure she licked up every last drop, Dottie pulled the bottle away to let out a loud BWOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRPPP to rouse anyone that was still sleeping. Reveling in her own body, she let loose a thunderous PHHHHHRRRRRRTTT from her rear and turned towards Betsy. “So, when you reckon breakfast is?” she asked with her Southern drawl. “I wanna see how many people I can get to fuck my cooch before I need to fuel up again.”