	It had been a busy few years for Tom Sizemore. 

	Secondary school had come and gone, chewing the poor porcine boy up and spitting him out into the “grown-up” world without much in the way of direction. His father, a lawyer, put tremendous pressure on his son to continue his education and get a 'practical' degree like business or economics, but the idea of slogging through four more years of education nearly made him vomit. The only thing that made those years bearable were the two things that stuck with him after graduation – his best friend Aaron Wells, and his summer job at the Oxbow Ranch.

	Tom had been working for Oxbow every summer for years, ever since he was fourteen. The ranch itself was a massive swath of land outside of town dotted with an array of barns, arenas, and various outbuildings. During the spring and summer it was used to board horses, and when colder weather approached the owners used it to winter their herd of cattle. Tom's duties, when he was there, consisted of mucking out stables and hauling hay bales along with a handful of other farmhands. It was back-breaking work with an unpredictable schedule, but it paid almost double what his other classmates were making in fast food.

	His first few paycheques went out the window in a hurry, the young teen spending it on toys and junk food before his parents intervened. His dad set him up with a proper bank account and tried to teach him the importance of saving, but it did little good – Tom had always been an impulsive little piglet, and he found ways to make the money disappear regardless. His father eventually couldn't stand it any more and in the summer of his grade eleven year, Tom, his boss, and his father all sat down and agreed to trade a portion of his earnings in exchange for horseback riding lessons. At least then, his father reasoned, the money was going towards building skills that would stay with him forever instead of toys that would come and go.

	It worked. After the first few lessons, Tom was hooked. The feeling of being atop a mighty steed, controlling a creature that outweighed him ten to one with a single gesture, the bond between boy and beast, it was like a drug. His duties around the barn also took on a new importance when he could see the consequences of his work. The saddles, for example, needed to be polished and conditioned not just so they would look nice, but so that the leather would stay supple and flexible and would last longer. The stalls needed to be cleaned out thoroughly because if a horse stood in dirty shavings for too long, their hooves could get infected. And they all needed to be groomed before riding not just as a formality, but so that the rider could really get a good look and feel of their mount to see if it was injured, sore, or sick.

	Of course, the more trust he gained, the easier it was to be around the animals alone. There was more than one occasion where he was almost caught sneaking around after his shift ended, doing a little extra “grooming” with some of the more docile mares. He wasn't expecting to find the whole experience so . . . exhilarating. Unlike his numerous sexual encounters with his sister Beth and Aaron, he actually felt scared sneaking into the stall late at night. There was a risk of being caught and losing his job at the very least, or being seriously injured if the horse spooked. But the fear fuelled his arousal, and the payoff was enormous. The mares hugged and cradled his shaft so gently, unlike his little sister's vice-grip of a pussy, and used their huge, powerful muscles to squeeze him to orgasm. But of course, not every encounter went so well. He had his share of close calls and minor injuries and he wised up quick, picking and choosing his opportunities more carefully.

	After he graduated high school, Tom was quickly scooped up by the ranch owners to work at Oxbow full-time. He worked during the summer, took a few weeks off during the fall transition, and then was invited back in october to help with the calving season along with two others – Doug, a transient collie from the south who claimed to be working his way north, and Kennith, a sturdy ram and nephew to the Oxbows. Kennith and his family lived in a large house near one end of the property, while Tom and Doug shared a trailer near the milking shed. Room and board was part of the deal working for the Oxbows – the staff had to live on the property in the case of an emergency. If something went wrong, an absent farmhand could spell disaster for the herd. So the family did their best to supply their workers with everything they could want: three enormous meals a day, a warm bed each night, satellite TV, and a mini-fridge bursting with beer.

	Working in the fall and winter was a lot different than working during the summer at the horse shows. The days began before dawn in the frigid darkness – two hundred pregnant cattle needed to be brought in from the field and pushed into the milking shed before breakfast. Each cow was milked and inspected for injuries, illness, or signs of labour, then the entire herd was led back out and the milking shed hosed down from top to bottom. Then came breakfast at the main house with the Oxbow family. There were more chores before lunch and then the cows had to be led back in again in the afternoon, milked a second time, and the milking shed had to be cleaned again. After that came dinner and the daily meeting, where the events of the day were discussed, vet appointments scheduled, and tomorrow's chores were debated. And of course, all this could be interrupted at any time by a calving, so one of the three was always up at some ungodly hour checking the cows that had been isolated in the calving stalls overnight.

	The three farmhands worked in shifts. Whoever took the night shift had to be up several times during the night – once at 10 pm, again at 1 in the morning and then again at 4 – but they didn't have to be up again until breakfast. Sometimes the checks were as easy as going into the calving stalls, finding nothing, and heading back to bed. Other times there might be a calf already up and nursing. Other times it turned into an exhausting ordeal of pulling a calf or even worse, finding a stillborn on the ground and having to drag it out to the manure heap. Tom quickly learned it was part of the job. The other farmhands had seen it “too many times” to be outwardly bothered by it, but Kennith confided in him that it never really got easier: “It's part of the job,” he told him after finding a dead calf early one morning, “It's sad, but there's only so much we can do.”

	One dreary night, Tom heard his alarm go off, just barely audible above the din of the winter storm outside. He rolled over and checked his phone, shielding his eyes from the blinding light of the display. It read 1:02 AM. Time to check the calving stalls. He stared out the window and listened for a moment as the wind howled and rain hammered on the siding. The bed felt like it was spinning – he must have still been drunk from the four cans of Fuzz Light he downed after dinner to try and help sleep – or was it five? Either way it was a mistake. He dreaded going out in that mess, but it was all part of the job. Besides, he reasoned, at least the calving barn would be warm and dry. He rolled over, quickly becoming aware of his rather insistent erection rubbing against the sheets. Now he wanted to go out even less – in his dreary, drunken state, he thought it would be no trouble at all to just rub it out, get dressed, and go. But his body was running on autopilot. By the time he thought about turning around his rain gear was already halfway on and he was headed towards the door. Dang, he thought as his body stepped out into the raging storm, maybe next time.

	The walk to the calving barn was a blur. He remembered the wind and rain blowing sideways into his face, reflecting the orange glow of the lights, and then the warmth and earthy odour of the calving barn slowly began to wake him up. His morning wood still hadn't subsided – indeed, it had gotten worse, and was pitching quite a tent though his overalls. “Good thing we're alone in here,” he muttered to himself. Did he dare have a wank in the calving barn? He'd done it before. He loved the thrill, the risk of getting caught. But as he saw the pregnant cattle milling about and lounging around in the calving stalls, he got an even better idea, sparked by the alcohol's residual buzz. He decided he was going to get himself a calf tonight, no matter what.

	He headed to the equipment locker to grab the pre-knotted ropes, some shoulder-length gloves, and the 'flag' – a hockey stick with a plastic bag tied to one end. On the way back he pulled out his phone, and shot a text to his friend Aaron. He was the only person Tom could really reach out to at this hour, Aaron was waist-deep in a science degree and had a reputation for staying up late to get his homework done. Tom thumbed the screen and stared at it while his eyes took their sweet time to adjust to the glow.

Tom 01:15
u up?

Aaron 01:15
		Yeah, struggling though this bio paper.
What's up?				  

Tom 01:16
calving shift. horny as hell. u thinkin
what i'm thinkin?

Aaron 01:16
Tom, no! Really?

Tom 01:16
Tom YES.


Aaron 01:16
Are you serious?

Tom 01:16
who's going to catch me lol its 1am!

Aaron 01:16
I'm trying to write a paper here! You
 can't tease me like this!		

Tom 01:17
i can so lol

Tom 01:17
ill send a pic hold on

	Tom put his phone away and scanned the cows in the stalls. There were just under a dozen, all scheduled to calve in the next few weeks. One of them was going to meet her calf a little early, if Tom had anything to say about it. His heart skipped a beat as he saw one heifer with a thick strand of white goo leaking from under her tail. “Bingo!” Tom whispered, and slammed the flag on the ground. The cattle scattered in all directions. He kept tapping it against the dirt, rustling the plastic bag on the end and forcing them to move away as he drove his target headfirst out of the pen and into the calving chute.

	“Easy peasy,” he grinned, putting the flag down outside the chute quickly stepping in front of his quarry to close the front gate around her neck.

	The calving chute was a long cage with a gate at both ends. It was meant to be a short-term restraint for aggressive or unpredictable heifers during assisted deliveries, but Tom had ulterior motives for keeping this one still. He walked around the chute and read the cow's ear tag. “One-oh-eight,” he read aloud, “Hopscotch! I remember you! Hard to tell you all apart in the dark. We're going to meet your baby!” he reached through the cage to pat her on the shoulder and then pulled one of the gloves up his arm. “. . .just as soon as we can find it . . .” He shifted behind the cage and slowly worked his hand up under her tail. His cock jumped when he felt hooves lurking just out of sight. He was going to pull himself a calf! He wrapped his hand around one hoof and tried to pull. Hopscotch made a groaning sound. It was too slippery, Tom thought, he needed the ropes.

	The ropes had already been pre-tied into little loops with a slipknot at each end. All he had to do was reach in, slip a loop around each hoof, and pull tight. He grabbed the ropes and took a picture of Hopscotch's gooey hind end with his ungloved hand. He sent it off to Aaron with the caption “target acquired” and put his phone away. That should keep him anxious, he thought, smiling. He was so glad Aaron was still up. This wouldn't be nearly as much fun without someone to share in his escapades. 

	The pig-boy pushed a glove up his other arm and set to work extracting the calf. He grabbed one end of the looped rope and pushed it inside Hopscotch until he could feel the first hoof, then slowly slipped his other hand in alongside, trying to position the loop over the hoof in a way that it couldn't slip off. The cow groaned and adjusted its stance, but seemed to otherwise tolerate Tom's intrusion - for now. The hoof was extremely slippery, still covered in a rubbery amniotic film. He rubbed his rubber glove aggressively against the top of the hoof until he felt the sac break, and fluid began to trickle out. He pushed the coating back and rolled the loop of rope up to the calf's ankle.

	A quick tug proved that the first rope was secure. Tom grabbed the other end of the rope and pushed both hands in without hesitation, feverishly searching for the second hoof slightly behind the first. Fluid dribbled, and he felt Hopscotch's birth canal clamp down on his arm. His heart skipped a beat as the second rope pulled tight around the fetlock of the second leg. He couldn't believe was actually doing this!

	Tom's phone buzzed constantly with new messages. He pulled it out again with a grin.

Aaron 01:19
Holy fuck are you actually doing this?

Aaron 01:20
Tom

Aaron 01:20
Tom I need updates

Aaron 01:20
Don't leave me hanging

Tom 01:22
ive got hooves lol

Aaron 01:22
No fucking way

Aaron 01:22
Prove it!

Tom 01:23
lemmie pull them out a bit

	True to his word, Tom put the phone back in his pocket and yanked on the rope. The cow groaned and adjusted her stance, spreading her back legs slightly to adjust for the extra mass between her hips. He gave a few warning jerks and then leaned back as far as he could go, reaching one foot up to brace himself against the cross-bar on the calving chute for extra leverage. The sounds that followed were both visceral and comical: Hopscotch grunted, fluid drooled and splashed, and the calf's body made a slurping, sucking sound as it began to emerge. In only a few moments, the slippery white hooves were exposed to the cool barn air. Tom and Hopscotch took a simultaneous breath and then the teen was at it again, wrenching and heaving on the rope to try and force the calf out of her. Each tug was rewarded with another few sloppy inches of calf, the white legs stretching further and further until the bulge of a head could be seen between the cow's hips. A few nuggets of poop were forced out, and Tom quickly swept them away, his eyes fixed on the nose of his prize.

	Suddenly Hopscotch grunted and shifted forwards. The head of the calf heaved out, and Tom was sent tumbling to the ground. When he looked up he was greeted with a heavenly sight: The calf's hooves and head were out, mashed between Hopscotch's bony hips and dripping with fluid, the caul hanging over the calf's head like a shroud. He blinked, and gathered his blurry thoughts. This was an opportunity he could not afford to waste. Moving slowly, he untied the gooey rope from the calf's dangling hooves and dropped it to the ground. By the looks of it, this calf had broad shoulders and wasn't going anywhere for a while. He grabbed the amniotic on each side of the calf's face and lifted it slowly like a wedding veil, exposing the short, slippery fur and a purple tongue sticking out under its nose. With the caul still in his hands he pushed his lips against the protruding tongue and sucked it into his mouth, following it up to the slimy muzzle where he planted a deep, passionate kiss on the half-born calf. Tom was rock-hard in an instant. The calf's tongue twitched inside his mouth and Tom took it as an invitation, pushing his own tongue overtop and into the calf's mouth, turning his head sideways and letting the calf's gooey nose slide along his face. The calf's nostrils flared against his cheek, and he could feel the steam rising off the newborn fur.

	Their tongues jockeyed for position before Tom began to suck, syphoning the mucus and fluid from the calf's mouth and spitting it on the ground, leaving a thick trail of drool dangling from the calf's protruding tongue. That would be proof enough, he thought! He flipped open his phone to more missed texts from Aaron:

Aaron 01:28
Tom

Aaron 01:29
You've gotta be pulling 
my tail.
There's no calf, is there?

Aaron 01:30
You know the rule, pics
or it didn't happen!

Tom 01:33
calves r great kissers lol

Aaron 01:33
Bullshit, send me a pic

	Tom knew he had kept his friend waiting long enough. He closed the message window and turned around, then held his phone up and opened the front camera. He wasn't one for selfies, he thought as he cuddled up to the half-born calf, but this was a very special occasion! 

	Click! The flash went off, the shutter whirred, and pretty soon there was a miniature image of him and the calf poking out of Hopscotch's rear in the text window. The response was immediate.

Aaron 01:34
OMFG

Aaron 01:34
Tom you crazy boar

Aaron 01:34
You didn't ACTUALLY kiss
it, did you?

Tom 01:34
with tongue ;)

Tom 01:34
when its born imma see
what else that mouth do

Tom 01:34
brb calf

	Tom put his phone away, reached for the calf's legs, and paused. Hopscotch was contracting. He watched the bulge in her belly twist and contort as the calf's hooves twitched. He could grab the calf and wrench it free right then and there, but he didn't. He wanted to savour the moment. He was in control, and that was just how he liked it. 

	Slowly and purposefully, the teenage hog began to disrobe. He kept his eyes on the cow and calf as he slipped off his A-shirt and slowly pulled his underwear down his legs. Being naked in the barn felt very primal, as if he were just another animal like them. If he was going to deliver this calf, he was going to do it like another animal – no ropes, no gloves, no clothes. Just him, the cow, and the calf. He wanted to feel that hot, wet calf against his bare chest, flesh to flesh. He kicked off his boots, and tossed his other clothes into a relatively dry corner. Hopscotch's hind end beckoned once more and the teenage pig stepped forward, naked as the day he was born, and waited. When he saw her contracting again, he grabbed both the calf's hooves and pulled.

	His bare feet slipped against the ground. His bare hands slid down the calf's legs until he was barely holding its hooves. But try as he might, the shoulders would not budge. He tried again, this time watching as the calf's tongue turned blue. Pulling straight-on wasn't working. When the contraction ended and the calf's tongue returned to pink, Tom had an idea. He grabbed the hooves again and pulled to the right, trying to rotate the calf and get the shoulders to come out one at a time instead of both at once. 

	It worked. The lower shoulder of the calf popped free, quickly followed by the other. Tom felt a mighty pressure against his chest as the enormous calf began to flow out like a waterfall. In that fraction of a second before the entire calf was forcefully expelled almost on top of him, Tom realized he had a problem. Try as he might, he would NOT be able to catch a slippery, hundred-pound calf. And even if he did, he certainly wasn't going to be able to hold it for long! By the time he realized his mistake, half the calf was already in his arms and more was on the way. As the baby's hindquarters slipped through his arms he realized the best he could do was guide it to the ground. He staggered back, choosing to fall down rather than drop the newborn. The two ended up side-by-side on the floor of the calving shed, the pig-boy almost spooning the wet, steaming calf.

	It was hard to tell in the dark, but the calf looked like it's head and front legs were mostly black, and the rest of its body was mostly white with a few black splotches here and there. It shuddered and sneezed in Tom's arms, raising its wet head to look around. Tom pulled the sticky sac off and shuffled to a sitting position, then reached down between the calf's hind legs. He could feel the nubs of undeveloped teats.

	“Yes!” He exclaimed, “A heifer!” He opened his phone and immediately texted Aaron the good news.

Aaron 01:39
I'm still recovering from
that pic!

Tom 01:40
#itsagirl

Tom 01:40
want another one lol

Aaron 01:40
Do you even need to
ask? 

	Tom didn't even read Aaron's reply. He had already closed his phone again and dragged the calf's hind legs over to him. He pushed one white, glistening leg to the side with his elbow and used his hand to hold the phone while his other fingers spread the bovine's virgin lips apart. 

Click went the shutter and in less than a second there was a picture of a newborn calf's spread vagina in the text window. He thought really hard about fucking that calf right here on the calving shed floor, but he knew he couldn't leave a single drop of evidence. Besides, he already had his mind set on finding out if calves really would suck anything. 

Aaron 01:41
Holy fuck <3
So jealous right now!

Aaron 01:42
Do NOT get caught!

Tom 01:43
shes gonna gobble down the 
evidence lol

	He dragged the calf around again and hoisted her unsteady head onto his lap, spreading his legs to accommodate the heifer's wedge-shaped snout. He let the newborn get familiar with the scent of his groin while he pulled her hind legs towards him until she was pretty much curled over his leg. He wanted access to those plush bovine bits between her back legs. Why should this be a one-sided encounter?

	The calf seemed hesitant when faced with Tom's throbbing erection. But if he could train his baby sister Beth to play with it, he should at least be able to train an animal. He grabbed his cock and pushed it into the calf's face, then pulled it back and let it smack her nose. She nosed it, sniffed it, but didn't go any further.

	“Listen, you. . .” Tom grunted, grabbing the calf's muzzle and pushing on her cheeks to force her mouth open. He rolled his hips forward and jammed the entire thing in, holding the calf in place as she squirmed. Tom grunted in ecstasy. Struggling or suckling, she was was going to get him off either way. Fortunately, it only took a few moments for the calf to adjust to the sudden intrusion. She stopped squirming and trying to force him out with her tongue, and instead began to pull him in further, her tongue sliding along the base of his cock to coax out the milk her tiny brain told her she was going to receive. Tom let go of the calf's head and leaned back with a breathy sigh. This was so much better than he expected – better than any girl felt!

	Tom took his hands off the cow's head and pulled out his phone again, getting a photo of the calf's nose touching his groin, his member completely vanished down the calf's throat.

Tom 01:45
#deepthroat lol

Aaron 01:45
OMG what does she feel like?

Tom 01:45
heavenly

Tom 01:45
ten times better than beth

Tom 01:46
just as sloppy tho

	Even though the calf had settled into Tom's groin, it was indeed a very messy affair. The newborn heifer kept moving her head, causing his junk to flop out of her mouth or spring up and hit her in the nose. It quickly became routine to keep guiding her head back to the tip of his member so that she could gobble it up again.

	Tom's other hand slithered between the calf's hind legs and quickly found her newborn snatch. Slowly and carefully, he began to run his fingers around the outside in small circles, smearing the birth-slime around her sex – his idea of 'rewarding' her for latching on so quickly! He would have loved to do more, but he was so terrified of leaving even the slightest mark on her that he forced himself to be satisfied with what he had.

	Not that it was difficult for Tom to be satisfied in his current situation. The nameless newborn slobbered and gurgled on his bone while Tom idly fooled around with her slit, and it didn't take long for him to feel the familiar tingling in his balls. He bit his lip and accidentally gripped the calf's ear as he felt the surge of ecstasy crash through his body, starting at his core and sending fireworks all the way down to his toes.

	“A-agh!” Tom squealed as his toes curled and the first rope of piggy semen splashing against the roof of the calf's mouth. He pulled back his hand from under the calf's tail and grabbed her head with both hands, holding her still while he facefucked her, intent on making the newborn swallow every last drop. Still, even with Tom's meat jammed down her throat, she still managed to dribble. “Oh well,” Tommy chortled, “Mommy will clean that up!”

	When Tom was confident he had been sucked absolutely dry, he pulled back from the calf and got up, resuming his calving duties by dragging the newborn in front of Hopscotch by her hind legs and opening the calf chute so that the two of them could be formally introduced. As expected, the mother cow immediately began licking the calf clean – drops of seed and all. It looked like those two would be just fine until morning, but he was going to be back anyway in a few hours to double-check. He wondered about the possibilities of getting lucky with a calf twice in one night . . . it would be awfully close to morning turn-out, maybe too close. But he had always been a gambler – the thrill of getting caught made it that much more exciting, and the payoff was always so, so sweet.

	The storm outside had gotten worse, but Tom hardly noticed. His head was filled with thoughts of Hopscotch, the calf, Aaron . . .Aaron! He forgot to text him when he was done! He stopped in the middle of the field and opened his phone again, bending over to shield it from the rain.

Aaron 01:47
I bet, lol. At least this calf can 
take all of you!

Aaron 01:50
Tom, you still there?
Tom?

Aaron 01:50
You promised you wouldn't
get caught!

Tom 01:54
relax lol

Tom 01:54
mother, baby and 'midwife'
r doing fine

Tom 01:54
that bj was 10/10 tho

Aaron 01:54
I'm saving those pics for later

Aaron 01:54
I'll have to think of something
to send back!

Tom 01:55
just do ur homework nerd
lol

Tom 01:55 
need to sleep, nother calf check
in 2-3 hrs. tell you all about it
tomorrow

	He closed his phone and headed back into the trailer, trying to be as quiet as possible as so not to wake Doug. He shed his clothes again and crawled into bed, reluctantly setting his second alarm for 4am. He was troubled, however – now that he'd done the unthinkable with a newborn calf, how was he going to top that?

