This story is written by Mcgaffer, please send comments and appreciation to email@example.com
closed his eyes and grimaced against the pain as his fingers closed around the
bramble and pulled it roughly from the ground. His fingers were raw and bleeding
from dozens of scratches but he wouldn’t make the mistake of asking for a pair
of gloves again. He had made that mistake on his first day of work and Mistress
Sandy had obliged. She had another slave fetch a pair of gardening gloves filled
with nettles and insisted that Matt put them on. Mistress Sandy had even
insisted that he sleep with the gloves on, come the morning Matt wept tears of
gratitude when Mistress Sandy allowed him to take them off. He had to pay a
price of course so that he would not think of committing such a rude act again.
Matt wept even more once Mistress Sandy had finished caning the bare soles of
his feet. It was only supposed to of been ten strokes but he had hardly been
able to keep still. He had lain on his back with his feet held straight up in
the air. After just one vicious cutting stroke of the cane he had screamed and
curled up into a ball, Mistress Sandy laughed a lot that morning as she thrashed
his feet brutally. She enjoyed herself so much that she had decided to add a few
extra strokes to his punishment. Twenty-two cruel strokes later he had been
allowed to get to his work.
Matt was Mistress Sandy’s gardener. He had started work a week ago even though he had never done any gardening work in his life before. A cold chill had run down his spine in the way Mistress Sandy had softly murmured the word “Perfect” and smiled at him when he had informed her of his inadequacy for his assigned task. Matt had soon discovered that Mistress Sandy’s cane and whips were the best teachers that he would ever have.
Matt had met Mistress Sandy in a nightclub nearly three months ago. He had been cocky and boastful and very drunk. He could hardly recall what chat up lines he had used that night now as his back burned in the midday sun. At some point during his posing and drunken advances Mistress Sandy had slipped something into his drink. He had woken to find himself unable to move, pinned down with unyielding steel restraints in a humid stinking barn. He was contained in a small pen, he found that he could see some parts of the barn and despite the limited light he could tell there were several other small pens. Some of them held other men, but they remained silent when he tried to engage them in conversation.
In the very early hours of the morning the barn doors had opened and a strange woman entered. Matt’s bewilderment grew as he watched this woman enter the stuffy barn. She was dressed in tight white jodhpurs with thigh high leather boots. A white top with black leather gloves and belt completed her outfit. He watched the woman start to release the other men from their restraints and as she got closer he could make out her tied back long dark red hair and what looked like a coiled rope hanging from her belt. He would soon learn exactly what that was just as he would learn that this woman was Mistress Angela. Mistress Angela was one of four women that helped run Mistress Sandy’s small farm. They made sure that the slaves worked and they were sadistically good at their jobs. Cruel punishments for any perceived slight or hint of laziness were dished out on a daily basis. There was always an example to be made of someone.
Matt had learned from snatched whispers from the other slaves that almost all of them had a similar tale to tell. None of them knew where they were in the country; they had all been drugged and brought to the farm. It wasn’t always Mistress Sandy that did the abducting. The other four Mistresses had brought several of the slaves and from all over the country too. The Mistresses themselves also came from different parts of the country judging by their accents. The farm was surrounded by miles of vacant fields in three directions with just one old rutted dirt track serving as an access road and only the Mistresses drove in and out of the farm. At the back of the farm were the cliffs and the open sea. He had been told by some of the older slaves that when a slave died or required a more severe punishment they were taken out to the cliffs, they did not come back.
Matt had to go through the ‘ritual’ before he could be put to work. Every slave did the same thing when they first arrived at the farm. He demanded that he be released and issued quite a few threats. He soon came to know Mistresses Angela, Kirsty, Jenny and Michelle over the next few days. He wouldn’t meet Mistress Sandy again until the ‘ritual’ had run its course. He was kept in his tight restraints for the first day, his hands handcuffed behind his back and his feet in restraints that were bolted to the floor. The walls of his pen were sheet metal but the roof was strands of razor wire attached to a hinged wooden frame. The roof was low enough to ensure that Matt had to stay laid down to avoid cutting himself. The four Mistresses had visited him on regular intervals during the day and laughed at his demands and threats as they pushed filthy old bowls containing dog food and water towards him with their booted feet. He refused to eat that day but the barn was so hot that he eventually drank from one of the dirt encrusted bowls. He retched several times while he drank; Mistress Jenny took great pleasure in informing him that he had drank water from the old horse trough, one that even the horses no longer drank from.
He was kept in his pen for three long days his muscles screaming for release as they knotted painfully. His new role in life was explained to him every time one of the Mistresses brought him his food or water. He was still refusing his food but at the same time he was forcing down one or two bowls of the vile water as the hot barn took its toll on him. Matt had kept his eyes closed and tried not to think of what insects routinely bit him as they crawled over him.
At the start of the fourth day Matt woke as the barn doors were opened as usual. It seemed that all four Mistresses were in attendance today and the other slaves were quickly released and sent to work. Matt had assumed that he was going to be left in his pen again and closed his eyes and tried to doze as the shackles were opened and the whips cracked against bare flesh. He had been startled as the razor wire roof of his pen crashed back suddenly. Matt stared forward to see himself surrounded by the four Mistresses, before he could speak Mistress Michelle leaned forward, her long blonde hair tickled his face as she pressed the tazer into him. The effect was instantaneous, he felt suddenly breathless and almost immediately afterwards his already aching muscles found previously unknown levels of pain.
He was dragged from his pen and deeper into the barn towards two halves of a large iron hoop laid on the ground. As he got closer Matt could see the two halves were joined together with a hinge. The Mistresses manhandled him until he was knelt over one half of the hoop, his hands still bound behind him, Mistress Angela straddled his back and pressed down until Mistress Jenny could close the other half of the loop around him. Matt had then learnt about the screw mechanism that when turned closed the hoop tighter increasing the pressure on his back. It forced his chest down onto his knees, his stomach onto his thighs, his thighs pressed down onto his legs until he was slowly compressed into the shape of a ball. He was left like this for what seemed days; occasionally one of the Mistresses would briefly increase the pressure with a delicate turn of the screw mechanism. They could turn it with the slightest pressure from one finger but that slight turn brought inexplicable pain as the pressure suddenly felt as though he was held in a python’s grip.
He was also started on a course of regular beatings, every manner of implements were used to beat him. Mistress Kirsty explained to him once, as she stalked slowly around him with a flogger in hand, that this was training. He would soon do anything to avoid a beating, even work eighteen hours of nonstop back breaking work every day. If he worked hard and well then he would avoid beatings, apart from the beatings to remind him what he was working hard to avoid of course. Mistress Kirsty had short brunette hair and a permanent bubbly smile on her face. She always talked excitedly and exhaustively as if everything she was doing was the most exciting thing in the world and everyone should share that excitement. She shared a lot of her excitement with Matt. In fact he grew more afraid of her upbeat sparkly personality then the other Mistresses cold and sadistic manners. He eventually learned from the other slaves that everyone feared her excited giggle, it meant pain and screaming.
It was not long after he had been placed in the hoop that he eventually succumbed and started to eat the dog food and other stuff that was shoved under his face. Sometimes the Mistresses wouldn’t bother with a bowl but simply spill the food onto the dirty floor in front of him and he would have to eat quickly before the insects could get to his food. He wasn’t always successful and the Mistresses always demanded that he lick up every piece. Matt soon changed his mind and insisted that he would work and behave himself. The Mistresses ignored him. He begged until he wept and screamed his loyalty every day for weeks. In sheer desperation he started thanking his Mistresses for his food and beatings and for their attention. He wanted to seem like the most grateful eager to please slave in the world. When Mistress Angela finally released him from the hoop he collapsed in agony but such was his relief that he fought through the pain to throw himself at her long boots and kiss them in gratitude. Mistress Angela had fastened a collar around his neck and attached a dog leash and dragged him from the barn. Matt crawled desperately on his screaming muscles until he finally had his first look of outside the barn. He had his first orientation session, walked around the farm like a dog. As he met the other Mistresses overseeing the slaves’ work he was instructed to lick clean their filthy boots. He did so gladly, he had never enjoyed being outside so much before and he was determined to please. Unfortunately after a couple of hours Mistress Angela dragged him back to the barn and locked him, weeping, back into the hoop. Mistress Angela informed him that he was going to spend another month in the hoop but now he knew what benefits awaited a good slave who wanted to work when he was next released.
This story is written by Mcgaffer, please send comments and appreciation to firstname.lastname@example.org