On The Futa Farm

By Randall Rogue

Cal heard of an interesting and lucrative opportunity; a mysterious facility that will pay a good wage for subjects willing to help in the production of designer aphrodisiacs and intoxicants. The only catch is that all this work is done inside his body and then extracted, albeit in a most pleasing manner. Still, the changes they have planned are more extensive than Cal had thought, giving him a whole new perspective on being "up with the cows". It sounds like the farm staff will need to be up with him!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dapper Rat Publishing
• Release date: Nov 9, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311951687

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On The Futa Farm

Randall Rogue

This is a work of fiction. All characters and events reside solely in the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual people, alive or dead, is purely coincidental. All characters are eighteen years of age or older.

© 2015, Dapper Rat Publishing. No portion of this work can be reproduced in any way without prior written consent from the author with the exception for a for a fair use excerpt for review and editorial purposes.

This title is for adults only. It contains explicit sex acts, adult themes, and material that some folks might find offensive. Please keep out of reach of children.

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On The Futa Farm

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On The Futa Farm

So, are you here because you want to, or because of the money?

Cal nearly dropped the pen in his hand. Looking up nervously, he couldn’t without the expression that crossed his face.

The woman’s face breached into a broad, slightly wicked grin. Ha! That’s the face of somebody that don’t have a choice. Need the money that badly?

Picking up the pen and trying to get back to signing the many forms, Cal tried to keep his voice neutral. Well, you know this economy...

The woman leaned back against the rough rood wall, crossing her tan arms under her breasts. She gave Cal a little glance over, still smirking. She was a fairly intimidating presence, taller than he was, with long strong limbs and a mass of unruly hair the color of dry straw. Both her jeans and flannel shirt were dirt caked and stained in places. By her stance and her attitude, it was obvious that this was a woman who’d knew hard work every day of her life.

When the last paper was signed, she took them and slipped the stack into a vinyl folder, tucking it under one arm. Well, no sense dawdling. She said, walking to the doorway that led deeper into the facility. We might as well get you processed.

Cal found himself hesitating. That’s it? I don’t need to go get my stuff or anything?

A short snort of air escaped her nose. Not a lick of it. Everythin’ here is provided. Now scoot your ass, we ain’t got all day.

Her sharp tone started to move Cal’s feet for him. He hurried from the entryway and into the hallway beyond. This was supposed to be a high tech facility, cutting edge even, but everything he’d seen so far was starkly utilitarian