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Mudders caught by farmer 01

aaa pulled over onto the raised part of the verge, leaving the better
parking spot for the other car. Being slightly early there was no
cause for concern that the others had not arrived, the website stated
the co-ordinates that presumably could be programmed into a GPS
satnav, but would the others have one? aaa had never used one and
there was no reason for supposing they would. The breeze caused
the trees to move slightly and from time to time a flurry of leaves
would descend through the tracery of branches and join the random but
somehow not entirely random arrangement of litter on the ground.

aaa loved autumn. Some time in october the forces of wet seemed to
overcome the forces of dry, and the ground would soften then turn to
sticky and increasingly deep mud and the dog walkers would change
from their summer footwear to wellies and apparently delight in
walking through the muddiest parts of the paths. Did any of them
have a secret desire to put on an old boiler suit and roll around in
it, aaa wondered? Yet it remained warm, one could roll around in
the mud wearing thin rubber gloves and not suffer the problem of cold
hands that was always the bane of winter mudding. There were also
very few flies, and for washing afterwards one could use the stream
without having to hurry before mild hypothermia struck. Autumn and
Spring were definitely the best times for mudding.

A couple of women and 2 large white dogs appeared at the entrance of
the track leading into the woods. After a certain amount of
persuasion the dogs hopped into the rear of a large estate car
(station wagon) which then drove away. Good, there was only one car
parked at the entrance now, his own, and less danger of a walker
taking an unexpected route and appearing in the wrong place at an
embarrassing time. The others were now a few minutes late. Would
they be changed and ready for action, aaa wondered? Should he go
to the usual spot and get changed himself? It wasn't good to sit in
ones car at a mudding venue, it was undesirable to have locals
connect a face with a car

aaa was just crossing the road holding his gear and groundsheet, when a
car appeared. Good, 2 blokes the right ages. Yes, it was the
others.

"aaa i presume?" said bbb in imitation of Stanley

"Absolutely, shall we get changed?"

The 3 men carrying 3 slightly dirty grip bags walked into the woods to
the changing area. This was a small clear area in a thicket of
young fir trees that aaa had created by clipping off the lower
branches. The result was a small clean area hidden from view, about
the size of a living room. aaa spread the groundsheet, making sure
the dirty side was downwards. The 3 men removed their shoes and
stood on the groundsheet and started to remove their clothes. The
ritual of getting changed served as the perfect foreplay. Penises
not hard but not entirely soft frissonned with anticipation of good
things to come. aaa knew the mud was in good condition and the
dungheap reasonable, but the others would have no idea. Of course
everyone looked everyone else up and down as they got changed. How
hairy were the others, cock size, rippling abs or spare tyre?

But the great thing about mudding was that it didnt matter. Young, old,
fat, thin, king dong or princess tinymeat all looked equally good
wearing slightly dirty gear that demanded to be got a lot dirtier.
But aaa noticed that all 3 men were roughly the same size and shape
and all 3 were pulling on a boilersuit as their bottom layer

"hey, why dont we swap gear"

"What? All our gear?"

"well, just the first layer I meant, but ....."

"Definitely the first layer, see about the rest" ruled ccc

aaa handed his thin blue overalls, in which he had probably shot his load
between 50 and 100 times to bbb, bbb handed his to ccc and ccc to
aaa. aaa looked at the boilersuit he had been handed. Some flecks
of paint and brown patches of oil showed it had been used for its
manufacturers' intended purpose, but inside, all around the groin,
was the telltale evidence it had been used for another purpose. ccc
apparently wanked using his left hand. aaa started rapidly getting
hard. He hoped he would be able to hold onto his load a decent
length of time, but right now he felt like cumming on the spot inside
those used and abused overalls, had it been too much of a good idea
to swap gear? What about swapping the rest? It was still unknown
what the others had.

Again ccc provided the answer. "I have 3 identical green pvc boiler
suits. I have had a fantasy about getting all 3 filthy at the same
time, shall we use them?

Well, why not? It made a change from his own gear, and when ccc pulled
out 3 slightly dirty PVC suits from his bag, aaa had rarely
experienced such a strong urge to pull on a garment and jump in the
stickiest smelliest muck he could find to jump in. All 3 were
slightly stained particularly on the elbows, knees and arse, and
here and there were dirty marks that apparently would not wash off,
ccc clearly had a good mudding site that he visited regularly, and
it was good to be standing in the company of the other 2, knowing
that their cocks were in all likelihood buzzing just as strongly as
was his own. How did we get by without the internet, wondered aaa?

"OK guys have you got your wetbags and rubber gloves?" asked aaa.

"How far is the stream?"

"Quarter of a mile, far enough to justify using the wetbag"

The 3 men put their dry clothes in their wetbags, put their rubber gloves
on top, and set off following aaa. "The route is
straightforward: we just follow this path about half a mile then
under the fence and along the edge of a field and there is a
magnificent area of mud besides a cattle feeding station, with a
dungheap a few yards away" Have any of you brought a torch?
Well, I have a small one if you need, I can find my way along this
route in pitch darkness!

The 3 of them followed the path and after about 10 minutes reached the
point where it was necessary to cross into the fields. There was a
good gap between the bottom strand of barbed wire and the ground, and
little temptation to climb the fence. Few things piss farmers off
more than people who climb fences, it might appear as if you have
caused no damage but little bits of non-obvious damage add up and
fences gradually work loose, and the last thing aaa wanted was for
the farmer to realise that someone was regularly crossing into the
field at the same location.

Soon they reached the mud. It was in good condition allright. Mud with
cowprints in it, hoofmarks up to 9 inches deep, about one third full
of water. Here and there a cowpat, mostly fresh, with that oozy
brown-ness that just invited one to take a flying leap into the
muckiest area. Beside it was a dungheap, cowshit mixed with straw,
not ideal. bbb walked to the top of the heap and tried to slide
down it. A mixture of gunge and straw stuck to his arse. aaa
brushed off the straw. Not very mucky. The mud would be better.

"OK it will be startng to get dark in about an hour, so lets take some
photos if people want to, then kick off the real action.

bbb and ccc stood at the edge of the main area of mud and aaa picked
up a stick and took a golf-style swing at a large cowpat. He took
some more, correcting his aim each time. bbb and ccc covered their
faces as small dolllops of muck landed on their overalls. aaa put
down the stick and picked up his camera. He got the others to stand
where the light was right, and took a variety of pictures in
different postions. bbb then put his hand down into a particularly
yellowish patch of muck and smeared the front of ccc's overalls, ccc
reacted by throwing a large cowpat at bbb, and aaa took more
pictures.

aaa was just about to put his camera in a safe spot when the sound of an
engine attracted his attention.

The sound of a tractor. A tractor getting steadily closer. The men
looked at each other and decided to retreat into the bank of stinging
nettles. Stinging nettles were good for hiding in, there was
something satisfying about being able to lie down in them wearing
ones gear and know one was not in danger of being stung. aaa looked
up, There was a tractor alright, and it was heading their way. The
tractor stopped. Behind it was a red trailer containing more muck.
The farmer got off the tractor and walked behind to the trailer. He
pulled on a lever and to the delight of the 3 men, who could see just
enough through the nettles to know what was happening, a flood of
fresher manure without straw mixed in, slopped out onto the ground,
doubling the size of the dungheap. There was the sound of further
metallic clanking then machinery starting up. A spray of liquid
muck, the last little bit of what remained in the trailer, was aimed
straight at the bank of nettles where the 3 men were hiding. There
was a pattering sound as drops of semi liquid muck landed on the
leaves of the nettles, and some of it landed on the men hiding there.

The pump was switched off, the tractor started up again and soon was
driving away, aaa felt a flutter in the abdomen with the release of
the tension and the sudden thought of taking a running jump into the
pile of fresh shit that had just been dumped a few yards away. He
stood up in the nettles that were now only waist height being bent
over with the weight of the spray of muck, a tremendous buzzing
sensation coming from the base of his penis as it filled with blood
as rapidly as it could possibly do so, and as he did the tractor
unexpectedly stopped.

Oh why did he have to look back just at the instant when logically he
should have been past that subtle point when you anticipate he's
gone? Yes, he has surely spotted at least one of us. The 3 men
lay as low as they could, not daring to move, faces downwards, hoping
for the best, but the sound of the tractor soon started growing
louder again and it became clear the farmer had caught them almost in
the act. The 3 men looked up.

The farmer asked the inevitable question. None on the 3 men wanted to
answer. aaa attempted a plea they were enjoying the peace of the
beautiful countryside, hoping that heaping praises on the local
landscape for which the farmers were largely responsible, would
deflect attention away from the fact that lying in the nettles
wearing mucky old PVC overalls, was a somewhat odd way of enjoying
the beauties of the English countryside.

The farmer considered the embarrassed look of the 3 men, then looked over
at the large amount of footprints all round the feeding station.
Surely a farmer would know the difference between a cow footprint and
a human one?

"You 3 like getting mucky don't you?"

aaa decided it was time to come out with the truth. What happened next
seemed unbelieveable.

"Well, so do I. Why don't you 3 come down to the farm? There is fresher
muck there and no danger of being spotted by the public. Put your
bags in the cab and hang onto the back"

Suddenly the afternoon, that appeared to have been wrecked, exploded into
life. The 3 of them hung onto metal bars on the back of the tractor
as it bounced up and down in the direction of the farm. There was a
lot of cowshit on the rear of the tractor, and it gradually got
spread over the front of their PVC overalls, but wasnt that the
purpose of the trip?

OK Technically you were trespassing so I would like you to do a little
dirty job for me which my farmhands wouldnt do, you can wear your
own gear or mine, its well shitty but not something that one person
can do on his own.

OK the 3 of you,, what are you names? aaa bbb ccc

"And I'm called Bert"

what a great name for a farmer! Is that your real name?

No, but that's how I'm known to mudders"

"OK this is the problem: The stuff that comes out of the cows when
they are kept in the shed drains through the pit then out of the
building and into the tank under there. As you may have guessed, the
culvert has become blocked by a gradual accumulation of dried sludge
and someone has to crawl up and unblock it. I shall poke a long
rod through the sludge from the pit and one of you has got to crawl
up the culvert and connect this thing that looks like an anchor to
the end of the rod then the blockage will be winched upstream to the
pit. The problem is that the anchor keeps getting hooked on slight
roughness in the channel so one of you has got to crawl up behind it
and guide it along. "

bbb volunteered to do the dirty work, not knowing exactly what he was
letting himself in for. Soon he was cwawling up the culvert in the
darkness and the sludge that was being held behind what amounted to a
small dam of dried cowpat was being gradually released and dribbling
through, it was smelly, and the slippery sensation of his PVC
lubricated along the concrete floor of the culvert was the stuff of
fantasies, tempered with the slight worry that sooner or later the
dam would disintegrate and he would drown in a small flood of slurry
and stale cowpiss. bbb was slightly relieved when the anchor
pulled out into the pit and although the slurry in the culvert was
now 6 inches deep, at least it was light.

bbb had sticky muck spread over his PVC overalls. Suddenly ccc embraced
him and the 2 of them rubbed together, spreading the muck over both
their overalls.

"That's OK, there will be plenty of shit flying about in a few minutes"
called Bert, who had climbed a ladder and could be heard moving
about aloft out of sight.

The 3 men sat and waited. The sound of the cows could be heard from
beyond the partition. An intermittent grunting, a quiet clack of
hoof on concrete, and from time to time the sound of a cow urinating
or the plack-plack-plack as one added to the unknown amount of slurry
on the floor.

Machinery started up, drowning the sound of the cattle. Bert reappeared

"What's going on now?"

"It's the cleaning system. Pistons move along the gullies and push all
the slurry into the holding area, well, another tank actually, from
where it is transferred to the pit. It takes about 10 minutes.
There's just the right amount of time to take some photos."

Bert removed his gloves, opened a cupboard and produced a camera already
mounted on its tripod.

Group photos first, I have balaclavas for those who want them

All 3 visitors declined the balaclavas, they had shown their faces on
the internet for years and had no problems, the world did not in fact
appear to be full of sad individuals who spent their spare time
surfing the internet to find out when others did in their private
lives and then trying to get them to pay for the photos not to be
broadcasted to a wider public. Not unless they were famous, anyway.

There followed dick shots. These were not so successful as aaa and bbb
were only in a state of semi arousal, and Bert decided not to risk
bringing things to a sticky end prematurely. ccc was different. He
was rock hard, dribblying a little clear fluid, Bert decided he would
have to be careful

"Watch yourself" he warned, tapping ccc on the side of the penis a few
times, hoping it would de-arouse him a little. ccc had shot in his
boilersuit inumerable times, here and there it was stained black and
blotched, elsewhere there was an off-white crusty deposit. Bert
took many photos of this from various angles, ccc gave permission for
the photos to go on the internet provided there was no way of
connecting them with himself.

The note of the machinery changed

"The slurry is all in the tank now, the action will kick off in 3
minutes, time to get to the pit"

The pit was concrete lined, the side edges being about 10 metres long
and vertical, one being guarded by a railing, the other being the
edge of the building; the front and rear being a gentle gradient and
corrugated so one could walk up, but there was a smooth channel in
the middle down which a slight dribble of brown fluid was running.
At the sides were steps. The deepest area was roughly 2m below floor
level and roughly square with edges 4m. There was a uniform watery
brown slurry about 2 inches deep.

"What the hell is this for?"

"Thankfully it presently serves no purpose. We had it dug during
foot-and-mouth, we used to drive through disinfectant, and decided to
over-engineer it so to speak in case if was required for total
immersion of the animals"

"Are there any diseases to worry about at present? I heard there was a
thing called blue-tooth going round"

"That only affects sheep. We dont have sheep here. The land is suitable
but we prefer cows as they make more mess"

Bert picked up a plank "Give me a hand with this, it fits into
those slots at the side of the pit"

The plank was a little longer than the width of the pit and fitted into
slots that roughly corresponde with the deepest part of the pit.

"Now stand in the depest part of the pit behind the plank"

It was still unclear what was to happen next. The note of the machinery
changed again, and a large container started to appear, moving
sideways, from where it had been hidden behind one of the partitions
in the shed.

"For the love of Christ, what did all this machinery cost?"

"Not as much as one would guess. It was salvaged from a factory that was
to be demolished, which explains some of the oddities about the way
things are done here!"

More of the tank became visible until it stopped some 4m vertically above
the ramp that was the far side of the pit. The tank started to
rotate and soon its contents started to pour over the edge and
splatter down onto the ramp and flow slowly down the ramp into the
deepest part of the pit. At last it was clear what was to happen.
aaa looked nervously at the tank. Its volume appeared to be about
half that of the pit, which would mean it would fill it to a depth of
between 1 and 2 meters.

The tank rotated further and the flow increased. The smell of the
fresh mixture of slurry and cow urine filled the pit and the brown
mixture started to flow across the floor of the pit, reaching the
plank of wood that was in front of the 4 men standing in their
protective suits.

Suddenly the tank overturned completely and its entire contents slopped onto
the concrete.
There was a 'whap' of compressed air, an
impressive splash of brown liquid, then a breaking wave of muck raced
across the bottom of the pit, hit the plank that had been
strategically placed earlier, and flew into the air. The 4 men
instinctively covered their faces as the momentum of the fluid
knocked them backwards.

The 4 men were half lyihg, half standng, chest deep in the fresh muck,
all of which had only come out of the cows that produced it within
the past 8 hours. It was too much for ccc, who looked at the other
3, caught another great nosefull of the smell and promptly went over
the balance. A great squirt of cum wetted the inside of his blue bs,
he instinctively reached down to finish himself off but the action
caused him to move further backwards and he made the snap decision to
go for a second cumming later on. Bert watched as aaa and bbb rubbed
together, the tide of muck seemed to be receding a little as it
reached equilibrium, moving slowly back towards the far side of the
pit. All the man were covered in slurry from the chest downwards,
and bbb wished he had taken the offer of a balaclava.

They walked up the stairs out of the pit, along the edge that was guarded
by the railings, to the end where the slurry had poured down a few
minutes previously. Bert jumped onto the top of the shallow drainage
channel and slid at high speed down into the pit. Just in time, he
covered his face as he almost disappeared in an explosion of muck and
came to a stop roughly in the middle of the pit. He moved sideways a
few feet and aaa took that as the cue to slide down in a similar
manner. bbb didnt wait long enough and either accidentally or
deliberately knocked into aaa who fell over once again in the slurry.
Already ccc started to recover from his premature spurt and slid
down the gully, it was simply irresistible!

The 4 of them took turns to slide down the gully. Bert filled a bucket
with slop then recharged the gully by pouring it down from the top.

"Head first!" he shouted. He produced an empty fertilizer bag,
pulled it over his head and shoulders and took off down the ramp.
He vanished completely, aaa wondered whether he would need to be
rescued, but soon stood up roughly in the center of the pit. Bert
had surely done this kind of thing before and knew the ropes. The
men took turns to emulate this, and Bert produced a second bag when
the first one inevitably became soiled on the inside.

Everyone who has been involved in group sex knows that it only really works
when the people in the group fancy each other roughly equally. Here
that condition was satisfied. Everyone looked the same. Covered in
cow shit with just a little of the yellow colour of the PVC visible
around the edges of the hood. Someone had to make the call as to
when and how to bring things to their sticky climax. Bert was the
host and it was his perogative.

Sensing there was a danger of someone going off the boil he turned to aaa and
vigorously rubbed the front of his body against him. All 4 men
immediately began a frenzy of rubbing, body, both hands and knees
slidinhg up and down, backwards and forwards, slippery PVC clothing
lubricated by copious amounts of cow shit, that all of them
repeatedly picked up and smeared over the nearest man. Soon the
first of them gaved the telltale signs he was close to orgasm and a
chain reaction took over, the 4 of them convulsing, Bert detatching
from the group at the final instant and literally diving face down
into the deepest part of the pit, finishing himself off with his
hand.

aaa felt the warm sensation of his own cum mixed with his pubic hair. He
hated the come-down of those few seconds after orgasm, but the other
2 were grinning so much he could but help join in. Bert was feeling
his way up the stairs at the edge of the ramp to a hose. As he
picked it up a pump kicked into life and in a couple of seconds a jet
of water had cleaned his face and he was able to open his eyes again.

"out of the pit" ordered Bert. The others obeyed and Bert reached
up to a handle and pulled on it with all his weight. Beneath the
floor of the pit a panel slid sideways and the slurry started to
drain into his muckspreader that was parked in the correct spot in
the chamber below.

"Blimey, this setup is like something out of a Bond movie!" remarked
ccc. Bert Grinned "A fair amount of civil engineering has
gone into this, we hit solid rock and had to pay someone to do the
blasting but at least there wasnt the need to build retaining walls."
Let me just move my muckspreader.

Bert reversed a tractor, connected the muckspreader, and moved it further
into the darkness. He returned, turned a knob, and picked up a
larger hose, that look like and in fact was a fireman's hose. "Give
me a hand holding this". aaa supported Bert as he aimed the
jet at the walls of the pit, rapidly flushing the slurry to the
bottom where it drained through the recently unblocked culvert.

"Isnt this a waste of water?" "Not at all. The stream will
refill the reservoir in half a day in average winter weather, in
summer we don't use this setup. The main problem is ensuring we
dont pollute the water in the sense the stream leaving our land
mustn't be a diluted slurry that would cause bacteria to use up all
the oxygen and kill a lot of life downstream. But the water people
take samples and seem completely satisfied, we have a system of
ponds and reed beds that are great for the wildlife, and if you open
the sluice that drains the first of the ponds the sludge is awesome
for jumping into............

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