End Of The Road Farm

Note:

This is a horror/fantasy work of fiction and should be read 'tongue-in-cheek'. Any similarity to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

*

As the mini-van bumped along a very rough track, Alex wondered what else could go wrong with his life. Although he had completely lost track of time he knew that two winters had come and gone since he last tasted any kind of freedom or even experienced a pain and humiliation-free day. Gloria and Nancy had given him no indication of what was to come when they had forced him into a metal cage, not much bigger than a dog's kennel, in the back of the van and covered it with a thick rug. The frequent jolting of the vehicle made his uncomfortable, cramped position much worse and he was soon bruised from head to foot. He reckoned they had been on the road, and then the track for about three hours so were probably well over a hundred miles from the Farm. No doubt his "handlers" had taken a circuitous route to prevent any chance, no matter how small, of Alex figuring out where he might be. It wouldn't have made much difference anyway because he had no idea of the actual location of the Farm anyway, so figuring out the route they had taken from there would have been pointless, but that was their way of keeping him completely disoriented.

His problems began in 2002 when his gambling habits got the better of him and he made the mistake of creating some fake loan accounts at the bank where he worked as an assistant manager. When discovered, the bank rather than face the embarrassing criticism of its clients chose to fire him on the spot and immediately advised the local police chief, Chief Vanessa Kruppski, of its decision not to prosecute. He was ordered to leave town and the Chief, at the request of the bank's senior management, dispatched two of her deputies to make sure he got on the bus at the local Greyhound Station. En route to the bus station the deputies, the same Gloria and Nancy of to-day's transfer, took him instead to a compound up in the hills and handed him over, in regulation handcuffs, to a middle-aged woman who called herself Miss Stern. She made it clear to him that he could leave with deputies, knowing that he would never get another job requiring trust, or take a job at the "Farm". He decided on the farm job, a choice he would regret every day of his life from that day onwards. (Later, he realized that the offer of being able to leave was totally false and that they had no intention of letting him go free under any circumstances.)

Miss Stern led him to the basement of the house and allocated him a small room. Inside the room was a bed and just about nothing else other than a circular hole in the floor in one corner. He was told to make himself comfortable and get used to his surroundings and someone would be back to get him later. A little confused, he moved over to the bed and, as he did so, Miss Stern left the room closing the door behind her with a loud thud. Moments later the light went off and he found himself in total darkness. He located the door and found it was locked on the outside.

So began the most unpleasant period of his life. Several hours later he was passed a glass of water and a sandwich through a small opening in the door. The handcuffs had not been removed and eating the sandwich and drinking the water was difficult but he managed, somehow. In moments his head was spinning and he stumbled over to the bed and collapsed onto it. When he came round he found he had been fitted with a metal locking device around his genitals. It was tight enough to prevent him removing it but not so tight as to cause him any undue pain. Later that night Miss Stern came into his room with the two police-women who had delivered him there earlier in the day. As they came in he made a foolhardy run for the door but was crippled by a searing pain in his genitals and collapsed, in agony, on the floor. One of the policewomen walked over and kicked him repeatedly, totally ignoring his pleas for mercy.

"Welcome to the Farm" said Miss Stern. "You have been fitted with one of our homing devices that will keep you completely under our control 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. All of the women working here carry monitoring devices and can give you an instantaneous crippling painful jolt at any time from anywhere. What you just experienced was a level one jolt and it goes up to level five. Your life has changed permanently and irrevocably. You will work for us here every single day of the week, year-round, from 6:00am until 8:00pm with a 15-minute lunch break at 1:00PM. If your work is unsatisfactory you will be punished by any one, or all of us, at our whim."

So began a most unpleasant period in Alex's life and he quickly learned that Miss Stern was not joking about his schedule nor understating the harsh punishments that he would receive at the hands of any of them. Initially, he thought he had fallen into the hands of a bunch of dominatrixes who would get their sexual excitement by using and abusing him. He quickly learned, however, that if there was one thing missing from this equation it was sex. None of the women ever gave any impression of being the least bit interested in sex and, in all the time he was there, he never saw a bare breast or even a good view of cleavage. His early impressions and expectations were clearly wrong and the last thing he was regarded as was any kind of sex object or plaything. He was there purely as a workhorse, a slave actually, to be used and utterly abused in the pursuit of their twisted lifestyle.

He did not see much of Miss Stern but whenever he did he knew he was in for an extended period of beatings and deprivation. She delighted in either hurting him viciously or shouting encouragement to any of his several different female handlers as they carried out her depraved instructions with whoops of joy (not that any of them required any encouragement at all). His work included anything and everything from cleaning the many different suites occupied by the women residents to mucking out the stables and washing the vehicles at the Farm. After a wet day he would have a pile of up to 20 pairs of boots to clean and polish and the slightest speck of mud left on or under a boot would result in a punishment where he would have to crawl on his hands and knees through a muddy, dung-covered, cattle sorting pen being kicked by women lined up on both sides. After being hosed down with ice-cold water he would have to clean all the boots again, knowing the same punishment would await him if they found even a microscopic speck. On those days also he would automatically be denied the 15-minute lunch break, the scant lunch sandwich and the miserable bowl of soup or swill he got in the evening.

Now, finally, Alex seemed to be finally free of the Farm, for which he was extremely thankful but, at the same time, having experienced the almost daily delight the women got from torturing him, he knew that he was not about to experience anything remotely like freedom. The fact that Miss Stern and all her "handlers", as she liked to call them, never made any effort to disguise their features indicated that he was not going to be allowed any subsequent opportunity to identify any of them to anyone in authority.

Throughout today's journey Gloria and Nancy had ignored him completely but he had been able to catch snatches of their conversation as they drove along. He learned that two or three days before, a new "worker" had been initiated into the farm's operations. Although they didn't say so he figured out that this poor guy was his replacement – too bad for him but Alex didn't have any room for sympathy for anyone else, he had enough problems of his own. Eventually the van came to a halt, the two women got out and he heard them walk away across some gravel. He was left in the cage in the back of the van for hours and, as the day progressed, it got gradually hotter and hotter inside the airless vehicle. His throat was dry from the lack of water and he tried to cry out but only developed a weak croak. He doubted if they would have given him any water even if they had heard him as they had always delighted in hurting him in any way possible and depriving him of the bare necessities. Finally, he heard voices coming towards the van and the back door was pulled open. Without removing the rug, the cage was manhandled onto a trolley and wheeled over the gravel and onto what felt like a paved driveway. He heard an overhead door open and his cage was wheeled into a garage, judging from the oily smell. A corner of the rug was lifted and a water bottle was pushed between the rails. He could hardly move due to his cramped position but managed to drink from it. Just like the day he first arrived at the "Farm" he felt himself go woozy and he passed out before he could even begin to worry about what was happening to him.

When he came round this time he was standing with his arms shackled, at the wrists, to some kind of bar and his ankles shackled to rings in the floor. He was also blindfolded and had a rubber ball-gag in his mouth. Some groaning to both his left and right told him that he was not alone, but the blindfold and the ball-gag made any further investigation possible. A little later, however, he could hear the sound of voices, gradually getting louder and he realized that a group of people was entering the room. He could sense that they were quite close to him and was able to pick up a slight hint of musky perfume in the air.

"Ladies. Welcome to our ninth-annual slave auction". The voice was that of a refined Englishwoman. "Tonight we have six specimens up for auction and they will be offered for sale after our annual gourmet dinner prepared for us tonight by our wonderful hostess, Bella. As you know, all sales are cash and final (a loud chuckle rose from the assembled group of women). All of the specimens for sale tonight were loners in their previous lives and, fortuitously, all have been out of circulation for over two years so they won't be missed and will be yours to do whatever you wish to, and with, them without any fear of consequences. Always remember, though, that when you are fortunate enough to be selected to host one of our annual dinner sales, the rules of our society govern your responsibilities!

As you know Evilyn Stern has, during the past year made some wonderful improvements to the homing device and each of these slaves has either recently been, or will very shortly be, fitted with the latest model, one that is actually implanted in one of his testicles, making it far more "user-friendly" for us all. It is a major step forward in maximizing the control we have over our slaves with minimal effort and a real benefit by substantially increasing their usefulness by what she calls "ultimate remote pain therapy". To her immense credit only two slaves failed to survive the prolonged experimentation period.

Now before we adjourn for dinner I invite you all to come up and view the slaves in order to prepare your bids, based on what you see, feel and find to your liking. Each slave's homing device has the first three numbers 911 with the suffix "1" for the first slave, on the left, through "6" for the last slave on the right, so do feel free to test their pain tolerance if that is important to you. Please contain your enthusiasm and do not go beyond level "3". I don't need to tell you that level "4" can permanently incapacitate them under some conditions and level "5" can, and has, been fatal on several occasions. Should you terminate, or render a slave worthless by incapacitation, you will, as per our rules and regulations, be fined twice the highest bid at tonight's auction. You will also have to take the injured slave away with you and dispose of him in an appropriate fashion."

As the Englishwoman talked Alex went from fear to panic to outright dread. Although life at the "Farm" was hell – 14 hours a day 7 days a week with frequent additional work for unsatisfactory performance and almost daily severe punishment sessions – this sounded like it could become even worse. He couldn't imagine that any of these women here tonight were from Amnesty International or any similar body.

The women came up to the row of slaves and stood before them discussing them like slabs of meat at the meat market. Occasionally he heard a scream as one of his fellow slaves was tested with his homing device but, so far, nobody had activated his. A group of women came up to him and spent considerable time prodding his arms and legs, measuring his muscles and gauging the amount of his body weight that was fat rather than muscle and sinew. One of them fondled his testicles and, surprisingly, he felt an erection developing – something that he had thought was a thing of the past as his handlers and the permanently fitted device had kept him in almost constant agony down in the erotic zone. Moments later he felt intense pain as his cock received a sharp blow from a metal rod or something similar. "That will have to be dealt with thoroughly if I buy him," said a woman with a German accent, "but I will want to milk him for my skin therapy so I am glad he still functions". Several other women came up and pulled and prodded at him, some more painfully than others, but it seemed that the German woman had indicated her desire to buy him and the others paid more attention to the rest of the slaves that were, at that point, still up for grabs.

The women left the room and although he was blindfolded he could sense that the lights had been turned off and a silence overtook the room. Each of the slaves was gagged but, being so enveloped in his own personal fears, he would not have felt like socializing even if he could.

It was at least two hours before the lights went on again and the women came back into the room. The English-sounding woman took control of the meeting again and announced the bidding process – starting from the left and finishing on the right. Alex didn't know whether he was slave 2, 3, 4 or 5, but he had figured out by the movement of the women that he wasn't 1 or 6. The auction took several hours to complete as there were frequent stops for drinks, socializing and more prodding and pushing of the auction lots. The prices ranged from $1,800 to $4,900 and he thought, but was not entirely sure, that his price tag was $3,750.

"Ladies, that concludes the evenings entertainment and business. Your purchases will be left here overnight and you can claim them after breakfast in the morning, once you have settled your bills. Bella has kindly donated two of her slaves for late-night entertainment should any of you so desire. They are located in punishment rooms one and three, downstairs, and each room has a full inventory of crops, whips, canes, cattle-prods etc. The rooms are almost completely soundproof but, for the benefit of those members wishing to sleep, do use ball-gags if anticipate the noise getting extreme. You have already been allocated bedrooms and they were prepared for you during the banquet. Sleep well!"

Without paying any attention to the six slaves still shackled up on the stage, the women left the room and, once again, the lights were extinguished. As difficult as it was Alex did fall asleep although he woke frequently as pain wracked his shoulders and neck and abject fear permeated his entire body.

...

The next morning, one by one, the new owners released their purchases from their restraints and took them away. Alex's new owner gave him a level "1" with the homing device and told him that the slightest deviation from her instructions would result in a level "2". He knew that the pain from that would put him in acute agony for at least an hour so he readily, albeit reluctantly, submitted himself to her. He was ordered down some stairs and told to stand against a wall where his wrists were cuffed above his head. At that point his new owner removed the ball-gag and asked him if he was ready to begin the next part of his life. He answered in the affirmative by saying "Yes Mistress" and she removed the blindfold.

He hadn't known quite what to expect but what he saw amazed and terrified him. His new owner was probably in her mid-fifties, close to six feet tall and likely weighed about 250 pounds. She was wearing a black silk blouse barely able to contain an enormous bust, a black leather skirt stretched tight across wide hips, shiny black boots, laced up to just below her knees and black leather gloves. His first, scared, reaction was that this was a woman who could eat him for breakfast and spit out the bones. In spite of her size she had flawless skin and her face make up accentuated her high cheekbones, large eyes and her imperious features.

"So, I am Mistress Gudrun, your new owner. You will only speak to me when spoken to and when you do, you will always address me as Mistress. You will be called slave because that is exactly what you are." Her German accent was quite clear and its harshness only added to the level of fear already mounting inside Alex. "We will be leaving here later to-day for my home. You will be in your cage for about nine hours for the journey but I will feed you something before we leave. Right now you will eat this." She held a bowl of oatmeal or something similar in front of him and he realized that he would have to eat it "doggy-style" as there was no spoon. She watched him in silence for a few moments with a rather menacing sneer on her face, then turned and walked away without another word, the staccato sound of her boot heels punctuating her departure on the stone floor.

Several hours later he heard a vehicle pulling up to the overhead door at the other end of the room and his new Mistress/Owner came back in with an Asian woman he had not seen before. She held out a bowl of diced raw vegetables and, when he had eaten them, she put the ball-gag back in his mouth and blindfolded him, tightly, again. That was the only time he ever saw the Asian woman. After unshackling his ankles the overhead door was raised and he was pushed to the vehicle. He was ordered to clamber into the back and squeeze himself into another cage that was then promptly shut and padlocked. Again, a rug or drop cloth was placed over it and the tailgate of the vehicle was slammed shut without any further comment. The front driver's side of the vehicle dropped slightly as Mistress Gudrun, presumably, got in. Moments later he knew they were back on the same rutted track he had been brought up yesterday. After about an hour he was relieved to feel the smoothness of a blacktopped highway and, in spite of his discomfort and raising fear, he was able to sleep for a good part of the journey. He came awake abruptly as the vehicle, once again, started to bang and crash about as it encountered a poorly maintained track. This went on for about an hour and a half and then, thankfully, the vehicle pulled into a garage and stopped. Before she got out Mistress Gudrun said, "We have arrived but I am far too tired to deal with you tonight. You will stay here until the morning".

The next morning he heard her come into the garage and open the tailgate. She pulled off the rug and, before unlocking the cage, threatened him with a zap of the homing device if he did not strictly follow her instructions. He knew better than to disobey. After unlocking the cage she removed his blindfold and told him to get out and go up the stairs into her house. She followed close behind, an electric cattle-prod in her right hand, and he entered what appeared to be a sort of mud-room with one door opening into a kitchen and another leading into a workshop. "Go into the kitchen and sit down on the metal chair," she ordered. Once again he was shackled to the chair, his ball-gag removed and he was given yet another bowl of bland oatmeal. Today Mistress Gudrun was dressed in blue jeans with expanding panels in each side to accommodate her weight, a thick dark blue sweater and rubber work boots. While Miss Stern was not a beauty she was, he reflected, not unattractive. His other handlers had been quite good looking women in the hard sort of way that fitted their nasty temperaments. Mistress Gudrun, however, was large and her imperious looks did nothing to ease his fear of what was to come. For a few minutes she stood watching him as he hungrily ate up the oatmeal and then sat down across the table from him, her thick arms folded underneath her enormous breasts.