He watched her leave with a pleased little smile on his face. He knew she would be back eventually, slipping down into the hay for a good break and a rest until the next morning, when he was scheduled to be pulling up old stumps that no one had been able to budge. He thought about her through the night in his sleep, his member out and waving around a little as he dreamed of being inside the human body again, breaking her flower and claiming her for his own. A pipedream for a slave, but the idea of being in her warm, soft bed instead of the fields was very pleasing to him. Would she see him as a lover, instead of a slave and instead of a pleasure toy?<br/><br/>The next morning came and as promised, he was out with a big pickaxe slung over his shoulder. When he went out to work, he wore a protective leather skirt around his waist, thick enough to endure a hard mistake and long enough to reach the back of his knees. Though it made the area covered quite warm in the summer sun, it was better than not being able to reproduce or enjoy himself again. He could be seen moving around the property, swinging his iron tool to crack through the thick roots and dig up the stump a bit before using his strength to lift and remove the loosened stump, leaving the area prime to be turned and planted upon. He would be busy if he was to keep at it all day, stopping under the shade during the high noon sun when it was actually dangerous for the furred anthros to be working.<br/>