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Low Lane Farm - Chapter 9

Low Lane Farm. Chapter 9.

With the post van gone, the farm was totally silent again. Except for Lee’s rapidly beating heart. In his mind, it sounded as if it might burst through his rib cage.

He held the Dickies overalls against his naked body – they were too long but would certainly fit : the waders, on the other hand, were causing serious activity in his cock !

“ Bullseye High & Dry” the label read. Thick, heavy black rubber, substantial cream coloured steel toes, thick shoulder braces and an intoxicating smell…

He studied them thoroughly, his cock seeping against the dull rubber. He knew they would be ideal for his chores that day. Tall and strong enough to keep him dry and clean whilst toiling in thick mud for 8 or 9 hours. He knew he could carry on moving the wet soil and starting the sieving process to refill the deep hole they’d excavated wearing these stunning boots. He was sure Jonny wouldn’t mind him borrowing them. They could be hosed down afterwards, anyway.

He lay the waders down and started to look inside, the cream canvas lining revealed a size stamp : 12.

He knew he had to wear them. Nobody was there to stop him. Besides, would they even notice ?

He sat on the side of the bed with the enormous rubber boots at his feet. Carefully he lifted the top until it formed a gaping hole. The smell of canvas and rubber absolutely blew his mind. He had never thought about sniffing boots before coming to Low Lane Farm. He would have regarded it as weird. His mates certainly would.

But here, alone, in the silence, it was EXACTLY the right thing to do. Not only did he breathe in slowly, he ended up kneeling on the floor and almost climbing into the amazing waders – only upside down. They were pristine, the 12 stamps legible at the top and down by the shins of each boot. The canvas a pale cream, the rubber a dull black. The cream toe caps were massive, the braces dangling. Waiting for him.

The headiness inside the gigantic boots almost made him explode. He lay on the floor writhing.

He tried to sit up, with his head in the thigh of a boot. The heavy feet clunked against the bed, almost coming alive. They were unmanageable and Lee loved them ! He had never seen anything like them before, even on TV or on the web. His heart pounded even harder, knowing he must wear them immediately. His erect cock was jutting out of the overalls agreeing entirely ! He knew he would probably be shooting his load in them several times that day !

What a job ! Somebody had to do it …

Reversing out of the waders was easy, despite his cock's awkwardness. He lifted his right foot in its thick seaboot sock and wriggled it a fair distance deep inside the huge boot. Slowly he did the same with his left foot. The heavy boots were still laying on the floor, causing him to shuffle forward a bit more until his right toes made the huge steel toe cap come alive. He grabbed handfuls of thick black rubber and hauled the top of the boot up until he was “wearing” the right wader.

Three sizes too big and seriously heavy, he was sweating already.

After about 5 minutes he had both feet in place and his thighs inside. His cock wasn't helping the progress at all, thudding against the creased rubber upper, seeping into the clean overalls. This was just the start.

Shortly afterwards he controlled his breathing and stood up. The cumbersome, enormous boots reached his chest, the tops of the waders rubbing his balls. He flung the braces over his shoulders one at a time, and attached them to the fixed loops. Easier said than done. After he had disconnected them and untwisted them, he stood admiring his handiwork.

He lumbered awkwardly over to the full length mirror in the wardrobe and gasped at the vision in front of him. His face – yes, albeit a bit flushed. But the rest of his body was unrecognisable ! Over 5 feet of heavy black rubber, gigantic boots and a feeling of exhilaration.

He could not wait to start heading up Low Lane.


Lumbering down the stairs was another issue though...The boots clearly had minds of their own. He balanced against the wall as they thumped from step to step, making him hotter still. He knew that walking the mile to the barn conversion site, in glutinous mud, would be exhausting – if not impossible.

As he made it to the foot of the stairs, where his wellies carefully stood on the mat ,his phone started to ring. Once more he nearly jumped out of his skin, so engrossed was he with every that was happening.

He had shoved the phone into a pocket in the orange overalls – which was now difficult to access. He shoved his right hand inside the thick rubber encasement and retrieved it after the sixth ring. It was Dermot.

“You alright, Lee ? You sound out of breath” he called, obviously driving .

“ Just heading out, I had to run back upstairs for my phone” Lee lied.

“Good. I'm about 20 minutes away, so I'll see you up there. I've got sarnies and a flask of tea and some Mars Bars. Anything else you want ?”

“ Coz I'm staying here I could do with some bread and milk. Maybe a pizza or something for tonight ?” he chanced his luck.

Dermot agreed and rang off.

That gave Lee about half an hour to get to the site. Certainly not in the BTR High & Dries. He stepped into his filthy wellies outside carefully, leaving the chesties in a heap at the bottom of the stairs.

Quickly he pegged up the overalls from the previous night on the line. Quite a keen wind was blowing which would help them dry. He laid the size 12 waders neatly on the grass to dry off a bit too, and went back into the boot shed to see what he could borrow today.

He knew he didn't have much time, so grabbed a grubby pair of green toe capped Century Safety wellies off a middle shelf. Size 10 he noticed keenly. He gathered the legs of the overalls, plunged into the boots, grabbed the chesties which he shouldered, shut the doors and headed as briskly as he could up the track. The field from last night's adventure was on his right – looking amazing but not too disturbed. He might well go back there tonight...


The wind had also started to dry the mud on the lane. The surface layer was slightly thicker providing resistance for a moment as he trod into it. A much stickier clay met his boots, giving a gluey slurp every time he lifted his heavy new wellies. A sound he loved and his cock adored.

After about 50 metres his feet had started to pick up a nice new layer of clay. They were longer, wider and certainly heavier. He scraped his right boot through a small gulley of mud on the side, coating his whole foot in a lumpy brown sludge. The large green toe cap completely disappeared. He decided rather than getting them completely plastered all at once, he would see just how much thick mud he could pick up with each step.

He twisted his feet slightly with each step, rubbing his boots together occasionally, smearing ooze up the shafts on the inside legs. Sodden clods of earth could only just cling on by the time he reached the top of the rise, the barn being downhill about 200 metres ahead.

By this time it looked as if he were wearing size 12s again. At least. So much mud was sticking to each boot, he could hardly lift them. Splattering along the rutted track, he was not only sweating slightly but also seriously horny. He really wanted to give these filthy Wellingtons a fresh layer of something else, but was aware he could hear an engine. He turned to see Dermot's van just appearing through the farm buildings, splashing carefully and stickily through the mud. He was a steady driver, so Lee knew he had time to reach the barn and stash the chest waders for later, He could not wait to be hauling them on again !!


Creaking open the massive barn door, everything was exactly as Lee had left it. The deep pit, the slide device, piles of soil for sieving, tools and the damp aroma of mud everywhere.

He quickly went to the back corner and dumped the chesties under some old sacking, his cock desperate now for freedom. His Century wellies looked a bit like plastered clown's boots. Huge in the feet, lumps of mud falling off as he returned to the gateway just as Dermot pulled up.

The driver's door opened and Dermot stepped out wearing a brand new pair of wellies. Lee spotted them immediately, along with the word Dewalts clearly legible on the side.

Until recently his mouth would have dried and would have remained silent. But not now.

“Got some new boots, then ?”

“Yep, treated myself. Neoprene tops for the winter – got to keep warm in the winter. They're not bad really, lots of lads onsite wear 'em” he announced.” What the Hell happened to yours ? Looks like you've borrowed some off a giant !!”

Lee coloured up again and muttered something about the state of the lane. He was about to turn back indoors when Dermot called him back. The young guy felt embarrassed again, he didn't want a confrontation.

“Are you going to help me unload some stuff then ?” Dermot called, jokingly, “or should I get the staff to help ?”

Lee paddled to the back of the van, following Dermot's new boots which certainly wouldn't be clean for long.

A massive metal sieve was pulled out first, a 2 metre folding ladder, the expensive tools and a carrier bag from Aldi.

“Leave the other one, it's got your stuff for indoors. It's really great of you giving up your time stopping out here. Are you sure your Mum doesn't mind ?” Lee coloured up again.

If only he knew.

They carried the gear inside, trudging back through the thickening gloop. Most of Lee's extra mud had dropped off, but all four boots were caked not far from the tops. Dermot's new builders' boots would never be clean again.


Almost three hours' later they stopped for their sandwiches.

Just as Lee swallowed his last mouthful Dermot's phone rang. He heard him swear and shout “Don't do anything until I get there !!”

“For fucks sake ! I can't leave those other lads for 2 minutes. Will you be ok on your own here until tomorrow? That twat has hit a water pipe and half flooded the place !All you've got to do is start emptying the skip and sieving the mud back into the hole. I'll get back tomorrow afternoon to help, besides Jonny will be home then too. I'm sure he'll be impressed.”

Lee was both delighted and pissed off at the same time. Left doing all the hard graft AGAIN !!

Just as Dermot was about to climb into the van he remembered the carrier bag of food. He ploughed to the back of the van and retrieved it.

“There's some beer in there too, you've earned it !!”

With that he started to carefully reverse to the track, wheels sliding wildly as he did so. He waved and in no time had gone over the brow of the hill.

Lee's priority certainly wasn't work. He headed straight to the back, lifted the sacking and hauled out the heavy chest waders. He kicked off the plastered Centuries and opened the massive boots out, carefully sliding his right socked foot inside. He staggered a bit and stumbled onto the sacking. It proved easier to pull them on sitting down. He wriggled both feet way down inside the heavy black rubber, the heady canvas lining intoxicated him.

Next he awkwardly stood up and shuffled the upper section up his stomach. They weren't quite as tall as he'd hoped, but they definitely were weighty ! He managed to twist his arms inside the braces and straighten them out. Then he stood admiring himself. Black rubber from his nipples to his toes. He knew they would be almost impossible to move if they were caked in clay, but that was exactly the scene he wanted to set.


He wandered outside, spotted the sieve which he took back indoors and propped the ladder up against the large skip. He headed towards the edge of the lane where a gully of ooze had formed and plunged straight into it. The size 12 feet disappeared immediately . Lee started to stomp and stamp in the mud, watching it splatter up the lower legs, really improving the spotless rubber. He gouged and scraped his way backwards and forwards getting the feet heavily caked as more grey splashes worked further up the boots. His cock was going wild in his borrowed overalls, battering against the stiff lining of the BTRs. He needed something deeper. It was too far to walk back to the field from last night, so he pondered the skip.

He climbed the ladder carefully and could peer inside from the third rung. Below him was a contained mud hole with a thin layer of water on top. He knew the clay beneath must be a good four feet deep.

He looked at his feet again. Perfect footwear, he thought. It all needed digging out again anyway, then sieving, so he nipped back inside to get a spade and the wheel barrow.

In no time he was about to step into the amazing skip. His heart was pounding, his cock throbbing and brain going into overdrive.


He heard an approaching vehicle. A quad bike, he thought.

“For fuck's sake...” he muttered under his breath. But then realised he was holding the spade and he was being paid to labour on this site. He actually wasn't doing anything wrong.

The sound was coming from the opposite end to the farm. Lee was confused, but stayed stock still. He could hear calling, then the splashing of tyres through the mud. About two minutes later the quad appeared in the gateway, the rider skidded to a halt when he saw Lee up the ladder and he switched the engine off.

Lee was like a rabbit in the headlights. Equally embarrassed and also in awe. He had never seen such a filthy lad in all his life !! It was hard to tell what he was wearing, but his whole outfit from a woolie hat down to the tyres below him was thick with splattered mud.

“You haven't seen a Collie have you ? Silly bitch ran off this morning and me Dad wants to to see to the sheep !”

Before Lee could reply, the mud boy said “ I know you !!”

Lee's mouth went dry. “ I...er...”

“ You were in the year above me at school ! I'm Jack Robson, I live at the next farm up. D'you remember ?”

Lee's brain whirred a bit, going back a few years. The lad did seem familiar. He was a good looking dark haired guy, with a genuine smile. He certainly didn't mind getting dirty....

He stepped off the quad and plunged his unrecognisable wellies into the mud. Slopping through it to the skip effortlessly. “They're some amazing boots ! I could do with them on the quad ! Where'd you get them ?”

Once again Lee was stammering. He could hardly admit he'd stolen them from the farm. “ Er, I'm working here” was all he could feebly utter. The sight of this lad slightly below him was blowing his mind. Mud slowly dripping off his boots and waterproofs, some even splashed across his face.


Carefully he stepped off the ladder and stood next to the newcomer. Jack was a bit taller than Lee and quite stocky. “I do remember you now, “ Lee announced with a bit more confidence. He had lost touch with everybody from school. Nobody was quite like him there, or so he thought.

Jack's confidence kept the conversation going. “What are you up to then ?” Lee started to explain that he worked for a guy called Dermot before Jack interrupted him.

“No, I mean why are you here in this shit hole ?”

“Take a look” Lee suggested. Jack followed him inside and stared into the hole. “It's a project” he started. Jack looked at him askance. “I need to refill this pit. Then people will come from all over for an alternative sort of holiday...” his voice trailed off.

“Like a spa ?” Jack suggested. “With lots of mud ? Cool ! Can I try your waders on ?”

Lee looked mortified. Jack was covered in mud from the track. Lee tried to dissuade him, but Jack said they'd clean if you wanted to.

“I never clean my wellies. They only get dirty again ! What size are they ?”

“12” Lee said, quite proudly “ too big for me”.

“Two sizes too big for me too, “ Jack called keenly, “ Cool !!”


Lee found himself back in the barn even though he had other plans. He shrugged the heavy waders off gradually as Jack kicked off his Wellingtons. “You wear mine whilst I pull these on “. In no time Jack was inside the almost spotless BTRs, Lee had on some battered old Le Chameau wellies.

“Fancy a quick run up the track ?”

Lee thought his heart would burst out of his chest. “ Bloody right !” he shouted. Jack swung his massive leg over the saddle and had quickly turned the ignition. Lee climbed on behind him and they were off. Lee automatically put his arms around Jack's waist, unsure of what else to do. They were racing off down the track towards Low Lane Farm, splattering through every pool of mud Jack could see. In no time he had swung into the setaside field and the going got very sticky.

Jack headed straight to where Lee had been wadered up last night. The wheels almost vanished in the deep ruts of ooze. Jack rocked the quad from side to side and clay started to splash up everywhere and come raining back down on the two lads ! Suddenly both of them were plastered in liquid clay. Jack reached behind him and felt Lee's rampant cock.

“So you're enjoying this then ?” he laughed.

“Try heading over there,” Lee shouted “ it gets really deep !”

Jack tried manoeuvering the quad to no avail. It would be bogged if he carried on, so he reversed slightly.

“Show me !” So Lee slid off the quad and wallowed across a few yards of thick mud. Jack's boots vanishing with every step. He hauled the boots out as he neared the turning zone. Loud squelching and slurping was all that could be heard. Jack was suddenly behind him, The rubber waders all but disappeared.

Lee swung round, almost losing his balance. The lads were face to face in a sea of mud.

“Well, what would you like to do now ?” Jack looked mischievous and Lee tried to step forwards...


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