Low Lane Farm Chapter 12.

Chapter
12.

Morning.
Lee came round with a jolt. His phone was ringing on the coffee table and the glorious aroma of frying bacon assaulted his nose.
“ I assumed you'd stayed up there” his mother said.” The police didn't call, so I thought you must be ok.”
Lee explained what had happened – to a degree – and how much the weather had worsened.
“Mr Dermot called in just now, so he'll be there after 9. Will I see you tonight ?”
“Breakfast's ready” Jonny called.
“Got to go, Ma, the boss is calling. See you later on.”
“That smells fantastic. I'm starving ! Oh Dermot will be here by nine, Ma said.”
A pile of food was placed in front of him, toast already in the rack. Coffee made. Ben appeared just as Lee was about to attack his plate.

As they ate, jobs were assigned. Ben would clean everything up here, the others would deal with the skip. A truckful of aggregate was being delivered in a couple of days for Ben to get the foundations of some hard standing. He certainly couldn't be rescuing stranded cars every five minutes.
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Jonny and Lee walked through the drizzle to the boot shed. They couldn't help but see the mound of filthy clothing and discarded boots from the evening before.
“Ben's going to enjoy cleaning that lot” Jonny called.
“ I wouldn't mind doing it “ Lee retorted.
“You're going to be far too busy up the lane ! Come on – need to get kitted out. It's not that long until the first paying guests arrive”

Jonny shoved open the boot room door and nipped inside in the dry. The lad followed, still a bit wary of Jonny after the business with the chest waders – which still needed to be attended to as well.
“Right” the boss started - “ you'll need more overalls and waterproofs for a start, delving about in a locker unit in the back. Lee had never got round to looking in there. Probably just as well.
Some old blue overalls were flung in Lee's direction, followed by some green rubberised trousers. The matching jacket followed. “And I think waders will be best today” Jonny continued. “Take your pick !” He waved his arm along the racks on the left hand side.
Lee's mouth went dry. It was Kid in a sweetshop time. He reached straight for a pair of Century Safety waders with sizeable green steel toe caps. Old, heavy and chunky and pretty well worn.
“They'll go well with the waterproofs “the lad announced.
“You're certainly coming out of your shell ! That's good ! They're size 11s – does that matter ?”
The unmistakable twitch in Lee's borrowed joggers answered that question.

As Lee hauled on the tatty overalls over his clean, borrowed clothes, Jonny was delving for similar gear. More army trousers and a set of orange waterproofs – very heavy and thick. He was going to be sitting for much of the day in the JCB after all. He felt wellies would be sufficient too. Some size 10 Rockfall Silts would do nicely. Chunky, strong and above all, warm.
“Aren't we the co-ordinated pair ?! I'll text Ben to come and take a photo !”

They were just clambering up into the cab, still wet with mud, when Dermot's van lurched round into the yard.
He climbed out, wearing his old Site boots, Lee noticed.
This might take some explaining, the labourer thought.

“ Hi Dermot” Jonny started, taking charge. “ You OK?”
“Fine, thanks. Shitty day though. You two look as if you've got the right idea !”
Jonny replied quickly “That's what I was thinking. There's a hell of a lot of scraping and dumping to do up there and not really room for three of us – especially with that doorway. How's your other project going ? Much need doing there ?”
A leading question – one which Dermot seized upon.
“The lads over there do need watching ! Nowhere near the nous of Lee here. “
Lee blushed.
“I have a thousand things to do. Tell you what – give me a bell on Monday if you need me to pop over, OK ? Are you ok to take Lee home later ?”
“Sounds like a plan !” Jonny called whilst starting the engine. “H ave a good weekend too !”
With that Jonny carefully accelerated away leaving Dermot in the yard.

Five minutes later, an absolute sea of mud met their eyes. Mounds of clay, the uptipped skip and pools of deep sludge. Jonny slapped Lee's wadered leg, “That's a great sight ! Certainly something for you to get stuck into !!”
“I hope so” Lee muttered, trying to adjust his rampant cock.
Jonny noticed and smiled to himself, delighted with how Lee was coming on.

With the engine switched off, parked in a pool of ooze, Lee keenly climbed out and jumped down into shin deep mud. Jonny followed,inadvertently dredging his right boot through the gloop and kicked it up Lee's back !
“You're looking way too clean ! Right ! First things first. The skip needs emptying and hosing out – it doesn't have to be spotless, but the outside must be recognisable. And you've got two wellies to find !”
Lee knew exactly what needed doing, and how much he was going to enjoy doing it.
“Meanwhile, I will make a start scraping much of this mud up and dumping it in the hole. I won't go right down to the ground though. Don't want any extra stones , after all. “

Lee grabbed a spade and waded into the upturned skip. The knee deep clay had settled overnight and clung heavily to his big waders. He started to dig and scrape the mud out, shovelling it to the side of the door – avoiding where Jonny would be repeatedly driving.
After 20 minutes, Lee could hardly move his feet – they were so heavily clapered up. The waders looked about size 14 and about a foot wide. He fell to his knees and continued labouring. Within an hour the skip was almost clear of muck, leaving just a residual layer to be hosed.
No missing boots had appeared...

Jonny looked over from the JCB just in time to see Lee lose his balance.

When Lee tried to stand up properly to leave the skip, his oversized waders were literally too heavy to move. He had been kneeling and shovelling for about 50 minutes leaving an enormous amount of clay attached to the thick rubber, all the way t o the tops. Leaving the spade, he tried to get vertical and literally collapsed into the pool of sludge. All of his right hand side turned brown immediately including some of his hair.
Jonny turned the engine off, jumped down and immediately planted himself in knee deep clay. His orange trousers got liberally splattered as he started to gouge his way over.
“You're starting early, aren't you ?” the boss laughed.
Lee tried to roll over to sit up at least, but the weight of everything was too much. He flopped backwards into the ooze. Within 5 seconds all of him was covered except his stomach, chest and face.
He tried to sit again, the wet clay not wanting to let him go. He flopped back down in fatigue and his head hit something hard. Groping through the sludge , he started pulling.
The other one of Ben's massive wellies had been found at least !

Whilst Lee was flustered, Jonny was amused and quickly pulled out his phone. A few photos were taken and sent straight down to Ben.
“He'll be as jealous as sin !!”
He splattered across to Lee and reached for the Armasol. It was a huge, unrecognisable lump. A bit of mud had seeped inside, but the big 12 size stamp was still visible.
“Better clean this up so Ben can use them.” He looked mischievous. He squelched forward and stepped across Lee's hips. He shoved his left hand right down the long shaft until it was past his elbow and squatted.
Immediately he started wiping the enormous Wellington across Lee's virtually clean stomach. The lad was instantly rock hard inside his gear. Cock standing to attention from the tops of the heavily caked waders. He knew he couldn't escape or move : nor

did he want to.
The thick, heavy wet clay dropped onto Lee. Jonny twisted the boot round to do the other side and the back. Up across his chest the big boot travelled, revealing some black rubber, as Lee almost disappeared. Huge smears of clay were wiped on Lee's arms too.
He couldn't reach his cock to wank it because of Jonny. His boss reached round, as if reading his mind. Giving the hard erection a stroke and squeeze, Jonny smiled again, knowingly.
“And now the foot”. The huge lump of mud was waved near Lee's face. A mound of thickening clay, impossibly heavy and wet.
Deftly, Jonny positioned the wellie under Lee's chin and started to carefully wipe it clean. Side to side, toe to base of the shaft. Lee was both petrified and exhilerated.

In no time Lee erupted in his overalls. His breathing accelerated, he started to whimper almost. The sight of Ben's boot millimetres from his face, and what he must have looked like, certainly how he felt, pushed him over the limit.
Jonny smiled again and stood up, still holding the Armasol.
“Right, consider that your punishment for stealing those chest waders !”
“ I didn't st...”
“We'll say no more of it. Whilst you sort yourself out, I will manouevre round and right the skip. Your next job is to hose it out, then I can empty it and shift it over by the gate, ok ?”
Lee nodded weakly. If that was his punishment, he must consider committing more crimes.....

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Up at the farm, Ben had nipped into the boot shed just as the drizzle stopped. He skirted the mound of mud which their clothes had formed. It looked like something found after a landslide.
He flicked on the light, looking for the sizeable Centuries, not knowing Lee had chosen them first. The selection of boots over size 11 was nowhere near as large as 9s or 10s. He had brought a few pairs when he moved in and reckoned some Cofra Thermics might just do the job. He had bought them off Ebay some months before, but they hadn't had much wear. Superlight they said at the top : they wouldn't be soon ! He ran his hands over the ridges and swirls on the chunky black boots before hauling them on.
Another green waterproof coat and some ripped old trousers were on hooks on the opposite wall. He lifted them down and pulled them on over his jeans and padded shirt. It was a cold day, but set to remain dry later.
Clumping over to the machine shed he quickly dragged out the pressure washer and plumbed it in. Just beyond the boot shed was the remains of a wall where an adjoining shed had stood – the perfect height to drape everything.
Some elbow length black rubber gloves came in handy too for separating the heap. He kicked it around too. The Cofras started to get grubby.
He kicked out some overalls with his big rounded boot, then more. A boot – indistinguishable, a sock. A tee-shirt ?
Thrusting the gloves into the gloopy heap, he started carrying things to the wall. Three pairs of ex-army overalls, three pairs of plastered boots and a selection of smaller items. All of them a slightly differing shade of clay.
He figured the overalls should be hosed down first and then pegged on the line. It didn't matter if they were spotless – just dry for another time. And there would be many more such events, He knew it !
With water firing at the wall, the overalls started to reveal their colour again, almost. He squelched over through the sodden grass and flipped them over to do the backs. In about 20 minutes they were on the line blowing strongly. Wind funneling through the
legs as if they were being worn.
Next the tee shirts and sea boot socks.
Gradually all the gear was done. The vaguely clean clothes were squeezed out, bundled into a big bucket of water and given a pounding before going into the washing machine. He definitely didn't want to clog that up, knowing what repair people charged.
Wellington boots next. He lined them up, hosed them violently inside and out knowing they certainly didn't need to be pristene.
He plugged in both American boot dryers and put the first pairs upside down over the slender “feet”. The next morning they'd be ready to go back on the shelves.
Ben returned to the back door, kicked his smeared up boots off and went to make some more coffee. His hands were like ice.

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With the skip back on its base, Lee started hosing it violently. With the sides within fairly clear he called to Jonny to bring the JCB over to tip it so that the majority of the water could run out.
The weather forecasters were wrong – again. A scything wind started coming off the sea to the east, followed by driving rain.
Jonny dragged the skip slowly to the lane, just a few metres, and then swung back into the yard to continue gouging at the mud.
Lee reckoned the best thing he could do was to haul himself to the barn door and shovel from within. The huge waders anchored themselves and the lad worked robotically digging and dumping. Jonny continued in the cab.
The rain worsened until it was almost horizontal. They knew doing anything else outside would be nigh on impossible, so they squared up the barn a bit, scraping up lumps of mud, attaching strong coat hooks to the walls, shoving more rocks into the roofing system slope.
By about lunchtime everything was looking shipshape. Outside was another

story,but that could wait until the foul weather had passed.

Lee was still lumbering, heavy with clay. The waders pendulous on his legs. He loved the way they looked and felt. Shuffling his feet inside them with plenty of room to spare. He caught Jonny looking at him.
“Seeing as you're having fun, I have just had a thought...”
Lee blushed powerfully, his erection wilting a bit.
“ I haven't been in the pit yet, for a test drive if you like...” his words were left hanging in the air.
Lee swallowed hard. “Fetch me the stolen chesties will you ?”
The young guy was about to retort, but knew better. He went to the back and brought the filthy BTRs out from under a sack.
“Whilst I get in them, could you switch the hose on in here for a bit too ? The clay could use a bit of loosening.”
Lee felt a mixture of anxiety and inquisitiveness. Where did he fit in here ? What might he have to do next ?”
Jonny sat on one of the benches and kicked off his filthy Rockfalls. He gathered his left trouser leg and deftly started plunging into the heavy, old, black rubber boots.
Lee returned with the hose moments later as Jonny was clearly adjusting his sizable cock.

With his feet way down inside the oversized waders, Jonny stood up unsteadily and ask Lee to help with the braces. Everything had a coating of clay following the lad's dumping on the mud pile. The braces were slippery and awkward to handle and straighten. Eventually he was ready to test the pit.
Lee turned off the hose, which had left a few centimetres of water on top of the sifted mud.
“Give it bit of a mix then” Jonny ordered.
“How ?” Lee replied innocently.
“Sit on the side and kick your feet about a bit – that should help”.
He obediently sat and thought he was back in a swimming lesson at school. Only this was much hotter.
The massive Century waders were already lumpy with wet mud, he could barely lift the feet an inch or two. One by one he rhythmically kicked into the mud pit. Water splattered up then started mixing into the tons of clay. Lee wriggled forwards a bit more, his kicking not really penetrating the mud. The waders were impossibly heavy.
The feet were wide and lumpy and certainly hard to control. More and more clay attached itself to Lee's lower legs resulting in his cock throbbing out of control/ He loved the site in front of him.
He certainly loved the sight in front of him too !

“This will take an age” Jonny barked. “ I have a better idea. Stand up”.
He walked outside and grabbed the spade. He thrust it into Lee's filthy hands.

With remarkable speed, Jonny was suddenly behind the lad, propelling him strongly straight towards the pit. With one almighty shove Lee was launched off the edge and was splattering to a halt a metre from the upright . He was straddling the mud in a sort of running position, still clutching the spade. The thin watery layer separated and unsurprisingly, the young guy started to sink. His enormous feet were gone in no time, his knees following immediately.

“Now start digging !” Jonny ordered. “I have a quick phone call to make !”

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Up at the farm, Ben was cursing the rain, even though he knew it would help clean the severely soiled clothing. When his phone rang in his pocket, he was glad of a distraction.
His eyes opened wide in astonishment.
“I'll be there in five minutes !”