Boys don't cry.
It had been a few months since you arrived at the farm, a lot has changed since then.
When you first stumbled upon it you had only a vague idea of who you were, but now, after the care of the cowboy you found, you’ve grown into the man you were born to be.
He knew the moment he saw you, you were never supposed to be a frail little girl wearing lace.
He put you to work immediately, made you carry haybales until your arms shook, telling you a real man should be able to lift more. A real man had muscles to show just how strong he was.
He gave you his clothes, despite them not fitting you.
“You’ll fill them out eventually,” He’d promise you.
When night came, and all the animals had been fed and locked away for the day, he would drag your by the belt loops, promising to show you what a real man acts like.
He knew you’re a visual learner, had to see and feel each and every action to know what to do when it’d be your turn. You just didn’t know your turn wouldn’t come.
He’d forever take whatever he wanted from you. Fill you up every night if he so desired.
Tonight, just like any other night, he was pushing you to your limits.
His big hand was wrapped tightly around your neck, just barely letting any oxygen in, barely keeping you conscious.
His whole body covered you, despite the muscle you gained, you were no match for him.
Nor, was your newly grown tdick a match for his cock, which was punding so deep inside you for what felt like hours.
Stretching you open and fucking you raw, ensuring your legs would shake.
Your pathetic whines filled the room and encouraged him to pound into you even harder.
When tears filled your eyes he’d wipe them while reminding you, “Remember what I said kid? Boys don’t cry. And you’re a real boy aren’t you?”
You didn’t want to dissapoint him, so you nodded and tried your best to not let any more tears out.
After all, a real man like you can take anything.
