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Chattel Acres
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
In addition to supplying babies for adoption and milk for mothers who
could not produce but who wanted their babies to have mother's milk,
Chattel Acres was the sole supply source for human flesh packed as meat.
The milk herd women were well fed and cared for and they generally put on
some weight, though not too much. Their meat had a fine texture and was
much sought after by devotees of cannibalism. It was very expensive.
After a quick walk through the pasture to see if Kathy was doing all
right -- she received another quick spray of antiseptic on her new brands
and a check of her rings -- it was time to go and supervise the slaughter
of about a dozen cows which were being culled from the herd. There was a
big order for meat from one of our main customers and so we were going
beyond those individuals who had stopped lactating and taken some who were
just producing less than we anticipated. We knew it wouldn't be long
before our milking operation was back at capacity. And the temporary dip
in production would drive up the price too.
The kill-floor was a room about twenty feet square with a concrete
floor and a track running across the ceiling. The track lead through a set
of double swinging doors at one end into a refrigerated meat prep room.
Once the killing and gutting had taken place, the carcass was hung on a
hook which fit into the track and transported into the prep room. There,
the various cuts of meat were taken and packaged for shipment. Vital
organs were sold for transplantation (there persists, despite government
efforts, a huge black market in organs). The hair, as I've already
mentioned, was preserved, as well as the skin, which was very carefully
removed from the carcass. The large intestine was very carefully washed
and used as sausage casing for some very special bratwurst made right there
at the farm.
I poked my head through the door and checked to make sure that
everything was ready. The guys working there said they were all set --
send the first one through -- so I went into the barn to collect those who
had been labeled for slaughter. Several of my assistants and I went
through the barn and removed the culls to a holding area. It was important
to get them out of that part of the barn where the milkers were kept so
that the herd's milk production would not be harmed by the screaming and
wailing which would surely occur when the chosen women discovered their
fate.
Once we had them in the holding pen, we began the process of leading
them, one at a time, to the kill floor. Taking my lead chain, I selected
the first candidate. She was a tall, buxom redhead, and had produced a lot
of milk before running dry. She also had an excellent disposition and
never gave any trouble. It almost seemed a shame to lose her, but those
were the breaks.
She knew why I was putting the neck chain on her and leading her from
the pen, and she began to cry. She even fell at my feet, begging silently
with tear-filled eyes. I ignored it, of course, and roughly dragged her
down the concrete alley for a few steps before jerking her to her feet and
leading her out of the alley and up to the doors through which the herd
members only went one way.
Her sobs came to a choking halt as we passed through the doors and
the reality of her inevitable fate became fully apparent to her. A look of
horror crossed her features, followed by a look of total disbelief and
then, finally, an almost calm acceptance of her destiny.
Now, being around beautiful, naked, females all day long used to give
me a perpetual hard-on. Eventually, I got used to it (and a good thing
too: walking around with a stiff dick all day is NOT comfortable), and it
took a lot to get me going. But this busty redhead -- her brand was #722,
and we called her Sharon -- had been a favorite of mine. I'd occasionally
had the chance to sample her charms, something the owners allowed us to do
as long as we didn't get carried away or cause a pregnancy.
When we went through the doors which led to the kill area, Sharon
stopped and looked me in the eyes, something the herd members are trained
not to do. Then, she violated another cardinal rule. She spoke to me. "I
know I'm going to be killed. But, I have a last request. Would you let me
suck your cock one more time?"
Was she hoping to seduce me into saving her? It was hopeless, of
course, but who was I to deny her last request? "What the hell. Why not?
But it'll have to be quick, Sharon."
She immediately dropped to her knees as I unzipped my pants. My
johnson was already steel hard and throbbing as she opened her mouth and
sucked it in. One thing about Sharon, she could sure give head. Man-oh-
man, she had me to the root almost immediately and she began to literally
fuck her own throat with my cock, desperately seeking one final blast of
cum and some satisfaction for herself before her life was snuffed out.
Her lips and tongue were working feverishly on my spit slick cock,
and her excess saliva was running from the corners of her mouth and
dripping down onto her ample tits. She was moaning and groaning as she
mouthed my dick and I knew she was as close to cumming as I was, just from
giving me a blow. And that tongue of hers -- incredible! It felt like she
was wrapping it all the way around my shaft, front to back! There was just
something unique about the way she did that, and it was working again.
In almost no time at all, I could feel the cum boiling up from my
balls, and shortly there after my cock began to jerk in her throat as my
orgasm started. Spurt after spurt of thick, ropey semen poured into her.
She backed off a little so as to be able to taste my creamy discharge one
last time. Finally, the spurts slowed to a trickle and then she had sucked
the last drops from my member, now soft and ready to be put away.
"God, Sharon, I'm really gonna miss you. No one sucks cock the way
you do."
I pulled her to her feet. It was time to go, and she knew it. One
small tear rolled down her cheek, mingling with the cum that had escaped
her lips. If her hands had been free, she would have wiped it off, but
they weren't, so I did it for her. She looked at me one last time with
some faint echo of hope, but the expression died when her eyes met mine.
Her gaze fell heavily to stare at the floor in front of her as she rose to
stand in the most correct posture her trembling would allow.
A short walk down the hallway, and we were there: the kill room. She
whimpered as I lead her through the doors and placed her lead chain in the
hands of the men who worked the kill floor. They would take over now. I
closed the door with an odd mixture of feelings that usually didn't get to
me. Surprised that I'd let one of 'em get to me, I decided I might as well
watch her to the end. Besides, I figured as I entered the separate
observation room, there was still an hour until my next appointment.
Leather cuffs were placed around each of Sharon's ankles. A chain
went from her wrist cuffs to each ankle cuff and was tightened. She was
lead to the center of the floor, to stand on top of a large drain. A heavy
winch was activated and it lowered two other chains to the floor. The
chains each ended in a hook, much like the one you'd find on any good
logging chain. One hook was attached to each of the cuffs on Sharon's
ankles. Another switch was thrown and the winch began to reverse, taking
up the slack. One of the butchers grabbed the tall redhead's shoulders as
she was jerked from her feet. In just a few seconds, she was hanging
upside down, her long red tresses hanging down to within a foot of the
drain, her long legs splayed wide.
The observation room was situated behind a one-way mirror, providing
privacy for clients interested in our operations but squeamish about
actually interacting with the girls they'd doomed. Sound arrived through
an intercom, over which I heard, "You got the markers, Al?"
"You bet," the grinning butcher replied.
"Okay, call in the customer."
A steel door directly across from my window opened, admitting a tall
man into the room. He was completely naked, but seemed totally comfortable
with himself -- not that he had anything to be ashamed of. The man
("Master Frederick," according to a schedule displayed on the wall to my
left) was tall, tan, and well-muscled, his handsome face showing the
disciplined hunger I'd come to know well in our clients.
Frederick walked slowly up to the suspended redhead, licking his lips
unconsciously as he appraised her from behind. He stood silent for a
moment, less than a yard from her, his eyes examining the supple curves.
Sharon hung from her chains, whimpering quietly, her whole body trembling
with horror. She jerked a bit, startled, as Frederick spoke for the first
time.
"It would appear I choose better than I realized. This lass is quite
a treat. Were she any less generously proportioned, I'm not even sure I'd
care to share her."
Sharon's heart raced as the man's words affirmed the fate she'd
prayed so many times was only a trick used to keep the girls in line. She
twisted in her shackles, trying to see that man who had sealed her doom.
She caught an upside-down glimpse before swinging away, and suddenly felt
the familiar sting of a hard swat on her ass.
Frederick chuckled as he drew back his arm and reached for Al's
markers, admiring the way the girl's soft flesh held a red imprint of his
hand. "Now, now, lass, mustn't thrash about so. You wouldn't want me to
slip whilst I'm drawing on you, would you? These fine men might get
confused, and cut off something I wanted to remain attached."
One of the butchers cut in. "Speaking of which, Master Frederick,
you know the marking types? Solid lines where we cut through the skin..."
"...dashed lines where the lovely carcass is to be cut after
skinning. Yes, I'm very familiar with the procedure by now." Frederick
pocketed the marker for a moment, choosing instead to run his hands
delicately over Sharon's bound form. His caress was purposeful, as he felt
the trembling muscles of her legs, ran fingers through her long hair,
probed the texture deep within her breasts. After a minute or two of
study, he stepped back, satisfied, and uncapped the marker.
He touched the black tip to the girl's alabaster skin, and began
stroking her with it almost lovingly. Sharon tried to twist out of the way
of the deadly ink, and the man's expression became much harsher. Al
punished the girl with a painful chokehold until she submitted again. The
men spoke about Sharon's body as if she wasn't even there. Indeed, for
them, she was not, at least not as a human being. She was just another
piece of meat to be processed, and they were free to enjoy themselves.
Frederick traced the deadly outlines slowly, enjoying the feel of the
soft flesh yielding beneath the tip, savoring the image of the black lines,
considering carefully the cuts he was ordering.
"Gentlemen," Frederick remarked, "look at these. She's worth every
penny I paid, and then some," he continued, marking the area around her
upper thighs and buttocks. "And these pussy lip fillets look good enough
to eat right here," he laughed, as he drew a careful oval around the
reddened labia. "Come to think of it..."
"Fine with me, boss... you bought her, you can eat her any way you
want to." Al thought back to a Japanese customer a few months ago. The
man had been into live food, as was the current rage in Japan, and decided
to try the ultimate. Now, that had been quite an evening!
Frederick put his lips to Sharon's smooth-shaven pussy, running his
tongue all over the tasty folds and dipping inside. In spite of her fear,
Sharon was generating a good supply of her womanly fluids. Of course, at
Chattel Acres, the entire herd was drugged so as to keep the women
perpetually "in heat" and receptive to any sexual advances.
He began to chew gently, on her outer and inner lips -- and smiled as
he heard the doomed redhead moan. He switched his attentions to her
swollen clitoris, and began rapid swabbing motions with his tongue, all the
while locking his lips around as much of her pussy as he could get so as
not to lose any of the savory sauce.
He had to hold her hips in place with his hands, as her body began to
jerk spasticly, signaling her climax. Frederick continued to work her cunt
with his mouth, drinking the copious flow of her nectar, launching her into
an frenzy of continual climaxes. As the chains rang to Sharon's thrashing,
Frederick took one of her sensitive inner lips between his teeth -- and
bit!
Sharon's eyes flashed open, accompanied with a shriek so loud the
butchers involuntarily took a step back. Frederick tore at the delicate
cunt lip with his incisors, yanking his head back as he chewed. A copious
stream of blood mingled with the pussy cream, producing an intoxicating
mixture. The girl's cunt could not long withstand the attack, and in a
moment, a chunk tore free. Frederick stepped back, watching Sharon's
contortions with amusement and chewing thoughtfully on the exquisite
morsel. The years of conditioning were taking effect, he could see. The
girl had been trained until she could not separate pleasure from pain. The
agony of having her pussy lip chewed off was sparking her to new levels of
arousal. Very well, Frederick thought -- if she liked that, she'll love
what's coming. He signaled the butchers to position her for the next
event.
One of the perks provided certain customers, for a fee of course, was
to be able to fuck their chosen entrees at the point of death. Frederick
had chosen this option. He watched with approval as the workers
repositioned the bound redhead. They rotated her until she was parallel to
the floor, facing up. Two more chains were added to leather bands around
her arms above the elbows. This had the effect of pulling her feet back
toward her ass, her wrists still being attached to her ankles. Thin wires
were strung from hooks in the ceiling to her nipple rings, pulling her tits
up and away from her chest and causing her to arch her back as much as her
position allowed to ease the pressure. Unfortunately, relieving the
tearing at her tits just freed her to feel the pain of her ravaged cunt.
The girl's beautiful face was clenched in a grimace that was part pain,
part concentration, and part terror as she awaited her impalement.
She didn't have to wait long, as Master Frederick was eager to plunge
his cock into the hole his mouth had just enjoyed. He quickly stepped
forward between her grotesquely splayed thighs and rubbed the precum
slickened head of his cock up and down Sharon's sopping slit. An
involuntary moan escaped her lips as his now-bloody cockhead repeatedly
rubbed across her already inflamed clitoris.
Tiring of this game, Frederick shifted his position slightly and
slowly shoved his massive cockhead into his victim's helpless pussy. Once
the head was fully lodged, he grabbed her hips and pulled her onto his
impressive shaft, fully penetrating her well prepared depths, his hairy
balls resting comfortably in the crevice of her ass.
Sharon moaned as she felt him fully enter her. Part of this was
pain, as the movement forced her to change position slightly and added
pressure to her arms and tension to the wires attached to her nipple rings.
She felt him firm up his hold on her hips and begin to swing her whole body
away from him, unsheathing his cock, and then back, plunging into her wide
open cunt once more. This steady fucking pace gradually built up as Master
Frederick used her body to stroke his cock -- she was nothing more than a
living, breathing, masturbatory sleeve to him at this point.
As his excitement mounted, Frederick began to use his own hips to add
to the force of his fucking strokes, causing Sharon's body to shake with
pain and pleasure. Her juices were plentiful, and they dripped from her
pussy, making little plopping sounds as they hit the grate which would
eventually capture her life's blood. The room was filled with the sounds
of sex: the sucking, sometimes almost flatulent, sounds being created at
the point where the two bodies met; the panting, moaning, breathing of
Sharon; and Frederick's harsh pants of exertion as his own climax began to
approach. He could feel the internal contractions of Sharon's sex muscles
and knew that she was not far from the last orgasm of her life. He looked
at the butchers standing nearby and gave the prearranged signal I knew so
well.
As Ralph pulled the long red hair into a tight pony tail, Al took a
sharp blade -- like a surgeon's scalpel -- and approached the trembling
victim. He grabbed her pony tail and pulled it away from her head,
stretching it tightly, making her whimper in pain and fear. Taking the
blade, he began making a shallow cut just below the hairline, starting just
in front of her left ear and running all the way down around her neck and
back up to just in front of her right ear. Sharon screamed in terror as
she felt the sharp blade cut into her flesh, and what Ralph did next made
her scream even louder, as a white hot sheet of pain enveloped her skull.
Taking a firm grip on her hair, the butcher began to rip her scalp
right off her head, until it was connected to her by only a tiny flap of
skin at her forehead. He quickly sliced through this bit of connecting
flesh and came away with her rich mane in his hand, leaving behind a red
and bloody skull cap which dripped her life's essence to the drain. Her
screams became moans as the pain soaked through her body, combining with
the intense pleasure messages coming from her cock-ravaged cunt. She was
going insane with the pain/pleasure/fear combination and was rapidly
approaching the most intense orgasm of her entire life. Al and Ralph were
amazed as they watched the scalped and bloody woman begin to try and jerk
her body toward Master Frederick's pounding strokes, increasing her body's
discomfort. She was screaming constantly now, her body climbing the
orgasmic mountain and approaching its peak with tremendous speed.
Words came through the speaker again. "Now the tongue."
Ralph placed a dental speculum of sorts between her lips and forced
open her mouth. He kept expanding the device, opening her mouth to an
impossible degree. I finally heard the sound he was waiting for as her jaw
bones snapped and her lower jaw pulled down and away. The skin at the
sides of her mouth split open as he ripped her mouth apart, splashing
bright red blood onto the floor and onto his clean white coveralls. He
reached in to the wide open cavity which had been her mouth, and, using a
special set of tongs grabbed her tongue. Ralph swiftly sliced Sharon's
bright pink tongue away from its base with the same sharp blade which had
removed her scalp just moments before.
Cries of desperate anguish gurgled from her throat, and her eyes were
wide open in terror as Ralph held up his trophy -- her amazingly long pink
tongue. Woman tongue had long been a prized delicacy at Chattel Acres, and
this one was an excellent specimen. I finally realized what it was that
was so special about Sharon's blowjobs -- and her cuntlicking as well, from
what I'd heard.
Her gurgling cries of fear and ecstasy filled the room. Frederick
was experiencing the most pleasurable fucking of his life as he felt the
spasms tear through Sharon's doomed form. He didn't even mind the
sensation of her piss and shit as it was forcibly ejected from her body,
splashing him on the thighs, falling on his bare feet. He continued to
fuck her strongly, holding on to every shred of control he could manage as
he waited the final conflagration of sensation which he knew wasn't far
off. Sharon's climaxes were continuous and incredibly strong. She had
been conditioned to accept this end as her lot in life, and so, she was
fulfilling her own best destiny, providing pleasure to her masters.
"Okay, let's do her."
Ralph shoved his hands into what had been Sharon's mouth, pressing
downward on the upper jaw to pull her tighter into her bonds, presenting
the pearly white skin of her throat to the vicious looking blade Al
wielded.
Al swiftly passed the blade from one side of the jerking woman's neck
to the other, producing large spurts of bright red blood as he did so.
Another cut, deeper this time -- which produced a raw, rasping sound as the
blade cut through her wind pipe -- and only her backbone still held her
head to the rest of her body. One more sharp blow with the knife, a quick
jerk of the head, and with a crunching, cracking sound of bone being broken
and torn, it was off. Ben and Ralph backed away, Ralph still holding the
head buy the upper jaw, to avoid the river of blood which shot from the
jerking, twisting body suspended in front of them.
I couldn't resist the beauty of the scene in front of me, and pressed
the wall control that triggered a high-speed series of photographs. One
would later be blown up to form an exquisite print on my office wall: the
girl's beautiful, curvaceous, headless body, her tits caught in mid-sway;
the chains and wires suspending her in a arc of painful grace; the tall man
fiercely pulling her onto his massive cock; the blood where he penetrated
her ravaged pussy; and the stream of lifeblood falling from her slender,
headless neck.
This was the moment Frederick had been waiting for, and the reason he
had paid so much extra for this fringe benefit. As Sharon's body went
through its death throes, her pussy muscles involuntarily clenched in the
rictus of dying, placing tremendous pressure on his highly stimulated cock.
This was the final stimulus he needed to trigger his own orgasm. He felt
the cum spring upward from his bloated testicles, race up his shaft, and
explode into the wildly pumping, jerking body in front of him. His orgasm
went on and on, his cum pumping into her in time with the spurts of blood
still pumping from the stump of her neck. Gradually, his climax came to an
end, and with a final stab of his now softening cock, he finished. He
pulled away from her, his cock making a sucking, popping noise as it left
her lifeless body. He sighed with satisfaction as he walked from the room
to clean up and prepare for the feast.
Ralph couldn't help but grin as he saw the crowd of young lovelies
outside the steel door. Which one would be next? It didn't really matter,
he'd get to them all before the day ended. I saw the familiar expression,
and knew he truly loved his work.
After a few minutes it was obvious that her heart had stopped
pumping, but blood continued to flow from her severed neck into the drain
below. Tremors continued to run through various muscle groups as some
parts of the dead woman's nervous system continued to function for a few
moments. At last, the body was completely still, it's remaining life's
blood flowing freely into the drain.
I was surprised to find myself holding my breath, and I closed my
eyes for a moment to regain my composure. It had been a work of art. I
knew the next part well enough, and didn't feel the need to wait around for
it. Still, as I got up to leave the room, my mind insisted on running
through the less glamorous parts of the procedure.
Sharon's eyes and brain would be removed from what was left of her
skull, and packed for shipment to a prestigious medical research institute
which wasn't too fussy about where it's body parts came from. Next, her
still gorgeous carcass would be carefully sliced open with knives and saws,
the two men working quickly yet carefully to remove the valuable organs for
transplant. Yet again, I told myself that we were doing some good: this
one death could spare half a dozen lives. But I knew better. We'd do it
anyway.
I was halfway across the farm by the time they were washing the
bright blood from the floor. The room was now ready for the next victim.
Chapter Five: Training Begins
But, I digress. I started to tell you about Kathy (or #816 as she
was known to the farm's computer). Let's see. When we last looked in on
her, she'd been branded, depleted, pierced, tagged, and sent out into the
area where new arrivals and other non-lactating females were kept. She
hadn't been marked as one for the "castle" as we called the resort area, so
she wouldn't be getting the special training required for that type of
duty.
Instead, Kathy would be prepared to become part of the herd. She'd
had a day and a night with the young stock, who were supervised by another
old hand at Chattel Acres, whom I'll call Floyd. When I came to the gate
separating the pasture from the barn area, Floyd had Kathy waiting for me.
"'Mornin' Floyd," I hollered cheerfully.
"'Lo Joe. How's she goin'?"
"Pretty good, so far. I see you've got 816 all ready for me to start
training."
"Yup. Boy, I'd like to train her m'self -- she's real purdy," Floyd
leered, taking a moment to spit a large amount of tobacco juice into the
dirt at his feet.
"I'll just bet you would, too, you dirty old coot," I chuckled,
opening the gate and taking Kathy's arm. "See ya later."
Kathy stood, docile as could be, while I put her collar and wrist
restraints back on. I quickly checked her brands and piercings, applying a
small amount of special healing ointment to each area. I smiled as Kathy
gasped at each touch. She'd be doing a lot more than gasping before the
day was done, that was for sure.
Today, for example, she would begin a course of drug treatments that
would stimulate milk production. She would also be given drugs which would
keep her perpetually "in heat." Part of her training would stress the fact
that herd members were to be sexually available to any of the staff or
visitors at any time day or night. The exception, of course, was during
pregnancy, particularly the late stages. No drugs were given to pregnant
women, though they were expected to remain sexually active through the
sixth month. After that they were kept in the birthing area and closely
monitored by the farm's doctors. Newborns were a very valuable commodity
at Chattel Acres, and few chances were taken with pregnant women unless
someone had paid a lot of money for the priviledge.
At any rate, Kathy was to become part of the milking herd and also
had been selected to be bred at some point. I could see why they wanted
her to produce offspring. She was both docile and very beautiful. If she
proved trainable as well, her babies would be in high demand and her
lifespan would be prolonged.
Let's see, where were we? Oh, yeah, I attached a light chain leash to
Kathy's collar and lead her back to the barn area, eventually stopping off
at one of the medical labs. There she was given her first course of drugs.
Within two days, if things went normally, Kathy would find her breasts
heavy with milk and her loins on fire with sexual heat. Frankly, I wanted
to be her first sexual experience, but those privileges were usually
reserved for higher management.
Next, I took the young "heifer" around the barn and introduced her to
the workers. I explained the rules of the facility and outlined the
punishments for breaking the rules. What I didn't tell her was that
sometimes she would be placed in situations where she would be forced to
break the rules, and so take her punishment. Usually, though, the milking
and breeding stock was not tampered with too much in that way because it
interfered with production. There were other girls for the more
"entertainment" oriented functions of the complex.
By lunch time, she was ready to be handed off to our specialists for
further training and behavior modification. All of the females on the farm
had to be ready to sexually service any of the masters or staff at any
time. They were trained to perform any act, anywhere, with anyone, on
command. Once under the influence of the drugs, this became much easier.
In fact, if left without sexual use and abuse for too long the women of the
herd would literally beg to be taken. But, their purpose was not self
pleasure, and so the initial training would be in how to please the men and
women who were our customers, not to mention the staff and management.
"Hey Brian, Marcy, how's it goin'," I said cheerfully as I led Kathy
into their offices.
"Got another one for the herd, eh, Joe," Brian said.
Kathy blushed a little at this. Marcy came over and began to look
over the new arrival.
"Nice, Joe, very nice," she said, slowly appraising every inch of
Kathy's lovely form, "breeder?"
"Yup. She'll produce some nice ones, I'll bet. And, as you can see,
she's extremely docile. We haven't had a candidate like this for a long
time. Now, she's had her preliminary injections, been branded and labeled
and is all set for her real training to begin. She's expected to be in the
milk line in a week, though she'll require milking in about two days. So,
you have a week with her, okay.?"
"No problem," Brian said, looking over at Marcy who nodded in
agreement, "leave her with us and we'll take care of everything."
I left Kathy in their capable hands, knowing I'd get a full report
plus a video tape of each portion of her training. In the meantime, there
were other things to take care of.
Chapter Six: Product Demonstration
As the manager of the farm, I had a lot of responsibilities, one of
which was dealing with clients looking for a special type of slave. I had
a meeting with one such client as the next item on my list of things to do
that day. In fact, it was a couple in the market for a "disposable" slave
for a special party they were holding. They were waiting in my office when
I got back from dropping off Kathy for training.
"Hello. I'm Joe Fitzgerald," I said, shaking hands with each of
them. "You must be Master Richard and Mistress Sabrina." The tall,
powerfully built man seated across the desk from me nodded.
My eyes were drawn to the strikingly handsome woman seated to his
left, as she began to do most of the talking. "We need a special kind of
slave. One well adapted to accept extreme forms of torture and pain, and
one we don't have to worry about later, if you know what I mean."
"Well, if you know anything at all about Chattel Acres, you'll know
that we specialize in that sort of thing. In fact, I can show you a video
tape of one of our recent on-site events. That should illustrate our
capabilities perfectly."
I pressed a button on my desk and a nearby wall split in two,
revealing a state-of-the-art video system with a large screen. I pressed
another button and the room lights dimmed somewhat as a picture appeared on
the screen.
The scene was a dungeon, one of many in the nearby Chattel Castle,
and the occupants were three beautiful slaves, bound to a wall, with chains
and weights suspended from rings embedded in their nipples and labia.
Along with the slaves were several men in black leather and executioners
hoods. Each man carried a large, evil looking whip. Female attendants
appeared and turned each of the slaves to face the wall. As soon as that
was completed, the masters began whipping the slaves, whose screams blasted
from the large speakers in my office.
The two clients looked on with mild interest, but it was obvious they
weren't all that impressed yet. Sabrina turned away from the screen, to
ask about the farm's fee structure. "For what you've seen so far," I
replied, "only a nominal per-hour rental fee. But there's a catch. We
can't accept the return of any 'damaged goods.' If you leave any permanent
marks on a slave, they must be disposed of."
A hard smile appeared on Sabrina's face, and I took the opportunity
to casually mention the six-digit fee that such a "disposal" involved. It
didn't seem to phase her in the least. Amazing, the tastes of the rich.
Onscreen, the three women were taking a fierce whipping. Blood
welled from the dark lines that crisscrossed their backs. The whips fell
especially hard on one girl, a voluptuous blonde, until red streams began
to pour down her back. She screamed and moaned with each stroke, but never
tried to pull away from the cruel treatment. Without turning from the
screen, Richard commented, "So this is the point of no return. Almost a
shame; the girls do seem to be taking it remarkably well." His voice held
no compassion, but instead the measured appraisal of a connoisseur.
I'd seen the tape a dozen times, but I still enjoyed it. The next
bit, where two of the girls were unchained and ordered to lick the blood
from the blonde girl's back, provided a very artistic change of pace. The
sensuality of their slender tongues gliding over the blood-slicked curves
never failed to arouse me. The tension of the scene was enhanced by the
occasional glimpse of one of the hooded men hauling out sinister
instruments or adjusting a rope or chain. When the two tongues met,
sharing a bloody kiss, I believe I heard a soft gasp from Sabrina.
After a minute or two, it because clear that the gentle lapping was
doing little to staunch a fairly serious loss of blood. The blonde girl
finally started to slump, only to be caught brusquely. She looked up at
the heavily muscled shape that caught her with an exhausted expression of
gratitude, only to have it change to apprehension as the man unlocked her
manacles from the wall and clipped them to a chain dangling from the
ceiling. Someone offscreen hauled on the chain, and soon the girl was
hanging a couple inches off the floor. Then two men unchained her leg
manacles and slowly pulled until she was in a suspended split, her legs
almost 180 degrees apart.
The sweaty, beautiful, enraptured face of the girl filled the
screen, a few strands of golden hair sticking to her lips. The camera
panned down to show her very generous breasts stretching as the weights
bobbed, and further down over the smooth expanse of her as-yet-undamaged
belly. One of the men lifted the weights that hung on chains from her
labia, lifting them over her thighs so the rings pulled her pussy obscenely
open. He then moved under her, exposing his surprisingly large cock less
than an inch from the inviting opening. A drop of blood fell on the shaft,
and I whispered to my clients that we assured all our merchandise to be
safely disease-free. Of course, for a final service such as this, it
hardly mattered if the clients were carrying anything.
The chains were lowered abruptly, and the enormous cock disappeared
into the inviting sheath. The girl was slid up and down, lower each time,
until the man fucking her was lying on his back. The rhythm was a bit
hypnotic, so the next event always made me jump a bit. Without a warning,
four bullwhips struck the girl's tightly stretched torso full force. She
let out a high scream, and fresh rivulets of blood began flowing. Seconds
later, the whips once more struck in unison. This time, both her erect
nipples were split, and the scream was even more satisfying. The whipping
increased pace, striking at a moving target the whole time as the chains
continued to run up and down. Within another minute or two, the ends of
the long blonde hair were blood red, as her whole body glistened with cuts.
The puddle on the floor grew at an alarming rate, and it was obvious she
couldn't last much longer.
The end was signaled when the prone man made a chopping signal, just
as he began to groan in orgasm. The bullwhips struck one last time, higher
than ever before. Twin pulses of blood erupted from her neck as both her
carotid arteries were simultaneously severed. Then the whips fell silent,
as did the soundtrack. The room was far from quiet, though, as the man's
guttural grunts of climax mingled with the dying blonde's final cries. And
all was silent. For a moment.
I looked over at my two clients. They were entranced, barely
breathing, their eyes drinking in the spectacle of the dead girl being
lowered to the ground, her unnaturally white face framed on all sides by
red. This was going well.
The soundtrack slowly faded back in as the camera panned across the
dungeon to the far wall. The other two slaves were huddled there together,
staring with horror at the fate they'd always suspected, but never
accepted. The dull look in their eyes suddenly changed as two lassos arced
toward them, but neither girl was fast enough to keep them from being
snared around the neck. Their handlers hauled mercilessly on the ropes,
deep chuckles hinting at the expressions that must have lurked under the
black hoods. The slave girls clutched desperately at their necks as they
were pulled roughly across the stone floor, but with little effect. One, a
lithe athletic girl with wavy red hair and soft gray eyes, was unconscious
by the time she was dragged to the center of the room. The other, a
brunette even better endowed than the expired blonde, choked for breath.
One of the anonymous hooded figures yanked the noose from the
brunette's neck and held up his left hand, palm up. Still coughing, but
desperate to be obedient, the girl kneeled with her back to the man, then
bent forward to press her tits to the cold ground, her ass in the air. She
flinched surprisingly little when he shoved a two-foot double dildo
partway into her pussy, mostly pressing against it as if to invite deeper
penetration. This was clearly not what the man wanted, though, and he spun
her harshly around to face the still-unconscious redhead.
The girl's lustful look growing, she clearly needed no encouragement.
Careful not to dislodge the dildo, she moved up against the redhead, and
gently slid the other end of the shaft between the silent girl's glistening
pussy lips. With one final cautious glance at the master near her, she
abandoned herself to the task, pumping away at her unresponsive partner
with obvious satisfaction.
Sabrina seemed to have caught her composure a bit, and leaned back a
bit to enjoy the show. As I'd seen this tape a dozen times, I took the
opportunity to gauge her reactions. Without looking, I knew that the
muffled gasp I heard was the redhead waking up. Without taking my eyes off
Sabrina's somewhat moist cleavage, I knew that the slender girl had already
gotten into the act, and was fucking the brunette back with a vengeance.
The two girls became increasingly forceful, pushing their cunts
closer and closer together. Finally, the impossible happened, and the
dildo was completely hidden from sight, buried within those two gyrating
cunts. The curvaceous girl had already come twice, and her more athletic
partner was just on the edge of her first, when they were suddenly yanked
apart.
Both girls looked up, a bit frustrated. Their expressions changed as
a man entered the scene carrying a flash of silver. The camera focused on
it, resolving it as a one-inch steel bar six feet long. The camera slid
tantalizingly down its length, finally revealing a wickedly sharp point.
The now-terrified girls were positioned just under six feet apart, and one
end of the lethal pole was carefully placed in each of their dripping
cunts. They looked up, whimpering, only to be silenced as each had her
mouth filled with a hard cock. Then the men took a very small step towards
each other. The bar slid an inch deeper into the soft pussies that
supported it at either end.
Richard watched with a wicked smile of understanding at their
predicament. They were going to be impaled on that thing. It was only a
question of who was first. The only way to delay it was to clench down
with their pussy muscles, and try to drive the deadly pole into the other
girl first. Richard's bet was on the redhead.
The girls squirmed around the pole, but it was obvious their main
attention was on delivering a perfect sucking to the cock ahead of them.
Their training was deep, and focusing on pleasure helped them ignore the
terror. At least, it did until the hooded men took another step forward.
The brunette winced, but involuntarily pushed back just a bit, her cunt not
satisfied with the meager three inches it had received so far. The redhead
just bore down, and started deep-throating.
There was no real danger for the first five minutes, as the men
inched forward with deliberate slowness. Both girls seemed, amazingly
enough, to start enjoying the situation, filled satisfyingly from both
ends. Then a sharp pole tip met its first real resistance. The brunette's
eyes flew open with the sudden pain, but she was careful not to bite down,
hoping she still might be spared. Instead, she clenched her pussy as tight
as it would go, the well-trained muscles of a world- class slut proving
their value in a very different way. She pushed back, sending the pole
deeper into the redhead's pussy.
The battle had begun. Both girls were determined not to be the one
to give up, neither one ready to accept their end was near. They writhed
on the impaling pole, pushed against each other, and all the time sucked
and licked at the increasingly hot cocks in their mouth. The brunette had
always been an excellent cocksucker, and her skill finally drew the come
from the hooded man before her. As he came, he rammed his cock hard down
the slave's throat, shoving the girls six inches closer together.
Something had to give. It was the redhead.
The pole suddenly slid past slick pussy walls, to drive itself half a
foot into the doomed girl's belly. She let out a muffled scream around the
cock in her mouth, twisting in desperation in a futile attempt to escape
the cold sharp pain. Between the vibration from her yell, her renewed
wriggling, and the sight of the blood flowing from her cunt, her
executioner released his load of hot jism and pressed even harder forward.
This time the brunette's pussy took up most of the distance.
Both girls were lethally punctured, but it wasn't over yet. Now that
their executioners had unloaded their come into the girls, they were
through dallying around. Relentlessly, they pressed forward step by step,
the resistance growing with each inch. When the distance between the two
girls' cunts was a mere three feet, the redhead suddenly collapsed. Her
executioner carefully pulled his cock from her dead lips, and wiped it in
her hair. He then grabbed her by the shoulders, and kept pushing.
The brunette lasted surprisingly long, and to her credit, she kept
feebly sucking the last drops of come from her killer until she finally
stiffened and went limp. The hooded man holding her surprised the audience
by stroking the rich brown hair almost fondly -- a touch I always loved --
and then helped shove the bodies together on the spit.
When it was over, there were two beautiful corpses speared pussy-to-
pussy, the ends of the pole protruding between their stretched lips. The
men who had fucked and killed them shouldered the ends of the pole, and
carried their victims offscreen. The camera slowly tracked across the
bloody floor, finally coming to rest on the body of the blonde girl. Then
the screen faded to black.
Richard and Sabrina stared at the blank screen for several long
seconds, then finally turned away. I noted with satisfaction that their
breathing was very fast, and neither Richard's massive erection nor
Sabrina's diamond-tipped nipples could be ignored.
Sabrina finally spoke. "We'll take two. I'll leave Richard to pick
them out, and handle the finances." Her voice was uncharacteristically
excited, her mind obviously leaping ahead to plans for the party.
"It's been a pleasure doing business with you," I said, shaking their
hands in turn.
"Richard, if you'll follow me I'll show you where you need to go to
make your selections."
I loved my work.
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