Sow Primer Ch. 01

It all unravelled like a ball of string. One momentary slip and away it scurried, racing from her fumbling fingers with unstoppable energy, carrying away with it her past life and her future. Of course at the time she had no idea of the significance of this ephemeral moment of embarrassment, yet it was to creep back up on her, stalk her, homing in from behind on her unsuspecting until it had grabbed a hold on her and she would be lost.

Maybe that wasn't right. Maybe she couldn't lay it all at the door of that one moment. The more she reflected upon it, the more she realised that she had been on a journey long before that and the tipping point, that moment when you teeter upon the brink, unable to make the final decision, unwilling to commit yourself, the irrevocable step was never really the true moment of change. It was simply the moment when you recognise the journey you have been on. The collapse of the final barrier that you fool yourself with, reassuring yourself that you remain in control all the while you are relinquishing it; the culmination of choices and their inevitable consequences sapping away at your freedom, herding you towards your pen, tying you in with fine nylon strings that, as they wrap themselves around you, appear so insubstantial, yet when too late you realise they are impossible to break. Bound and dragged along by these Lilliputian bindings until you are in your stall, your bright metal ring glimmering above you upon the wall, to which you are now tethered, a steely chain with no key and no way back.

How had it come to this? How come she did not notice what she was slipping into? God knows she had enough clues of the irrevocable transformation she was being put through. Had the changes been too subtle or profound? In retrospect she recognised that she had placed her own blinkers around her eyes, concealing her submission lest she rebel against it. All the while convincing herself of the control she possessed while it ebbed away unnoticed.

Such a simple thing, a screw head; it should have been drilled home, forced into that narrow opening made for it, sunk deep into the machine's bodywork, screwed in tight until nothing remained proud. Yet some anonymous negligent worker had left this trap for her and there had been consequences for Kate, oh yes there were always consequences. Day upon inevitable day it waited there to snare her, the moment when Kate would press herself up against the hard machinery, the warm glow of the photocopier sweep across her belly as somehow the button on the front of her skirt caught on that screw head. Maybe there are hidden forces that pervade life unnoticed that nudge us into the choices we are destined to make.

Right now, though, Kate was furious with herself. How could she have been so stupid! She had been trying to impress her new boss Mr Silcox and she knew from Debs, who had got her this job, that he was a bit gruff with staff. Yet somehow she had torn her skirt, her professional look, and he had been standing right there in the office as she had turned and ripped the material apart. The look on his face made her want to die and she had just frozen, like a rabbit in the road blinded by the dazzle of approaching headlights. What an idiot to just stare at him, her skirt gaping, holding on to the reef of papers she had just copied.

She hurried back to her desk having scooped up what she could of the fabric to hide herself. She had turned a bright shade of pink, her mind reeling at the imprint of the look upon Mr Silcox's face. Sitting down she tried to collect herself, tried to think, but all she felt was a throb in her head and the vacuous emptiness in the pit of her stomach. She fumbled around her desk and found some pins. In spite of everything, her thoughts inanely turned to why she had pins in her desk, yet her drawers were loaded full of 'useful' items she had squirreled away. She sat for a moment until the throb in her head subsided, although a tightness in her chest remained. She collected her skirt as best she could and attempted to walk normally to the toilets. Safe inside the cubicle, she could work with the pin to hold the tattered fabric together.

For around half an hour Kate sat her desk, an uneasy hiatus between her and her boss. What had he seen? How would he react? How would she be when next they met? Endless questions circled like vultures, tormenting her and feeding off her anxiety. Then he had walked in and after giving some papers to one of the other girls he came across.

"Would you step into my office for a moment?"

Mr Silcox's office was very smart with wooden floors and panelled walling. He had a large heavy mahogany desk and huge bookcases littered with neatly arranged books, globes, plaster statuettes and small steel office toys. There was a smell of leather that peppered the air from the large chairs, and the creak of the floorboards all added to an ambience to unsettle the visitor and impress upon them the power of this man.

Kate stood uncertainly, trying to keep control over her emotions. She could feel the heat in her cheeks. Mr Silcox approached her and stood close peering into her eyes.

"Accidents happen, even embarrassing ones, but we must carry on with our work. I am glad to see you have pinned up your skirt already." Kate nodded.

"Normally I would say that was the end of this unfortunate matter." He left the words hanging with the expectation of something to follow. Kate contemplated now ominous the word 'normally' sounded.

"However, on this occasion I saw something that does disturb me." He stared at her intently, watching her reaction, as he led her step by step. When he judged the level of her discomfort sufficient he went on.

"Was that a sow mark I saw on your thigh?" He was as always direct, and his gaze held hers watching for the slightest hint of denial, ready to pounce.

"Umm. I'm sorry about what happened. I'll pop out at lunchtime and get a new skirt."

"You didn't answer me. I saw a faded round blue mark on your inner thigh, and it looked to me for all the world like a sow mark. So tell me, have you visited a sow farm in recent months?" Again the probing spotlight that would not be deflected.

"It was a long time ago."

"I want to see it. Take off your skirt." Kate stared at him in horror. What was she to say? She needed this job otherwise she would have stormed out. She needed to find some way placate him, but she could not move, her body locked inactive as her mind whizzed.

"I am sorry Mr Silcox, I really didn't mean to cause any embarrassment."

"Come, come girl. You were at a sow farm and I know that in these places anyone can see your sow mark. I am only asking you to let me see it briefly now. I need to make a decision on your suitability for the post you hold."

His words sliced like a knife through the air between them. She kept reminding herself how desperately she wanted to hold on to this job. It had taken her ages to find a job and she had needed Debs help to secure this one.

"I am not sure," she vacillated. She needed time to think. He was right, at the farm she had been entirely naked, and her sow mark had been very visible to all visitors and staff there. But it was ok to do that at the farm, and it didn't feel ok here in her boss' office.

"Well suit yourself. It is a simple request. I merely want to see it. If that's too much, then I think you had better find employment elsewhere," his words harsh, and his tone strident.

Kate felt cornered. Perhaps it wasn't so bad, it would only take a moment and if it meant keeping her job. He only wanted to look. She looked around to the door, uncertain and wondering if anyone would walk in. Following her eyes Carl Silcox said, "It's ok no one is going to come in and disturb us. This will only take a moment, but the sooner we do this the better." Kate turned back to him and with a slight nod, signalled her consent. He stood back and watched giving her room to remove her skirt. She reached for the pin she had used to hold the torn material and pulled at it. At first it would not budge, holding firm the material she dug her nails around the head and slid it out. The material fell back and once again her creamy inner thigh came into view. Carl Silcox stared through the window of printed cotton fabric and saw again the faded blue ring on her thigh where she had been marked. To his delight he had a full view of the bottom right corner of her silk lilac panty, stretched taut across her mound and cascading over the ridge spanning the gap between her thighs, covering that narrow bridge of desire.

"Take the skirt off. I can't see it properly like that." His voice was testy, yet she was sure she detected a quaver in it. Was he angry or was he aroused? She realised that she too was more than a little aroused as she reached for the buckle of her belt and pulled at it. Her hands slipped down the front pulling at each button until the tension in the material slipped away. Folds of material cascaded around her legs, gliding over them in a flourish, like a magician at the finale of his act.

Carl's eyes raked over her legs following their long slow climb up, delighting in the curve of her muscle bulging from her petite ankles up, up until drawn together at the knee. From there sprouted the wide trunks of her thighs: soft, fleshy and inviting. He battled to control his desire to reach out and squeeze them, to feel their softness surrender unto him, to watch them flex and part. But there, at the top of her right leg, was the round disk of her sow mark, stamped upon the compliant flesh. It had faded, the words hard to decipher but the meaning still abundantly clear. The outward curve of her thighs swept in flowing arcs out over her hips where the tight insubstantial band of her panty dug into her fleshy smoothness. The bulging cascade of her fair buttock contrasted against the dark ridge of the desk behind her. Carl soaked in the fleshy sow body that was presented before him. It must have drawn a lot of attention at the farm, her thought.

"Lean back against the desk will you." She reached behind her and found the lip of her boss' desk and with arms straight she teetered back against them, her mound thrust forward as he approached. He stared down at her mark, like a butterfly collector inspecting with joy the pinned specimen in his tray. She felt his stare, and her flesh prickled. She tried to think of something else, to abstract herself, but the eroticism in the room throbbed. This would soon be over and then she could keep her job. Carl formed a mental photograph of the vision before him. The silk of her lilac panty, pulled tight, rising in a large V across her lower abdomen encasing her womb and entrance, coming to an abrupt end in the thin taut line of elastic that swung low across her belly. He was hard. He wanted to rip that panty aside and sink himself into her dark sow recess, feeling it penetrating its way up deep into her abdomen, his seed pouring into her, his torrent flowing from him, inseminating her while he squeezed with a vicious brutality her ass cheeks, yielding under the strong pressure exerted by his fingers. With supreme effort he contained himself.

"Yes, yes I see it." He peered at her mark and reached out with his finger. He held it poised just above her flesh and she felt an inner contraction in anticipation of his touch. She held her breath and looked away as if that would transport her into some other body, some other place where she may escape the feelings that stimulated every nerve in her body. His finger hovered there for a long moment, just above her skin, pointing at her mark as if he feared to touch it lest it suddenly disappear like a reflection in the water's surface. Kate held her breath, the mix of feelings welling in flux inside. Then with the soft pad of his index finger he pressed it lightly against the ring outlining her stamp, and he traced it slowly around following its course across her flesh with mesmeric slowness. In her mind Kate was following the slow progress of the sensitive touch of his finger, her sow mark coming into sharp focus in her mind. She had it now, the size of it: her dimensions. She pictured the words written upon it: 'Temporary sow, Sam Dervill's Dairy".

Carl peered to make out the name of the dairy. "That dairy is not far from here, is it? How many times you visit them?" Why the questions? Wasn't it enough to know she had been? Why did he need to know how often?

"Ummm" She cleared her throat, finding it hard to speak with him still caressing her mark, reminding her of it. Her breath was coming in short little gasps.

"A couple of times." She still looked away.

"A couple?" Again the prompt.

"Er, well I don't really remember," she said lamely.

"Hmm. Come on Katie, you don't really expect me to believe that do you? If we are to work together we need to clear this up and put it behind us. Not leave any open questions. I need to trust you have told me everything. So how many times was it?"

"Eight." Her voice sank into a tiny little girlie voice; utterly defeated. His finger stopped its slow unwind. He looked up at her. She may have turned away, but all her senses were locked upon the spot where his finger rested. It seemed like an endless pause. Kate swallowed, a dampness started to spread slowly out from her crack. She couldn't help it, she could feel it seeping into her panty adjacent to the point where his attention was focused. Surely he would notice, she thought with a sinking heart.

"I see." He stood up and looked at her, the magic disintegrating around them. "Thank you for showing it me. You can put your skirt back on now." After a moment's hesitation to double check he was finished, she bent over and grabbed up the material and fastened it about her once more. Having secured the pin again, still breathing heavily, she sat opposite her boss the expanse of highly polished wood stretched out between them.

"Well Katie, I know this job means a lot to you; but it is a responsible position you hold. The standing of the company rests upon the standing of its employees. I can't have people working under the name of my company and spending time in a dairy farm where any of our customers might encounter her."

"Yes Mr Silcox. I quite understand. I do wish to be a good employee."

"Yes but I think you also wish to be a sow."

Kate shook her head, "Oh no Mr Silcox. I only went out of curiosity as a friend of mine had been talking about it. I haven't been back for ages, and I won't be going again."

Carl looked at her for a long moment. "Well I am not as convinced of that as you seem to be. I want you to tell me the whole story of how this came about."

His eyes funnelled into her and she felt she had no alternative but to explain. She had to persuade him. Kate sighed, "It was all a long, long time ago." She knew that wasn't really true and was aware of how much distance she was trying to create between that time and now. In fact, she estimated, it was barely 18 months ago it all started. "I was just curious about it. I had this friend Debs who had been and she kept talking about how wonderful it was there. I had always steered clear of such places. At first I thought I would never be seen dead near a farm, but after she went on about it I started to wonder, and she said since I had never been my ideas were all based upon prejudice. So to prove her wrong, I guess, I wandered in, just to see what it was like."

Carl sat impassively, he didn't say anything or respond. He just waited and Kate found herself talking as the story tumbled out, slowly at first. She felt she had to fill the silence, not being able to bear sitting there with his eyes upon her weighing up her suitability for the job she was in.

"I was curious how the sow's felt about their life. I suppose..." she tailed off in recollection, "I assumed they'd be angry. That this would be all their lives would ever amount to."

She paused, making sense of it as she re-evoked her memories. "But it was not like that. I could see they were happy, and there was such a great sense of community there. I could see them chatting, and they were naked and no one seemed to mind. I felt embarrassed on their behalf, perhaps I felt I shouldn't have been there, that I was intruding."

As if deciding to take the next step, she sighed and continued, "Anyway, one of the trainers came over and asked me whether I had come out of curiosity or was thinking of becoming a sow. Well I put him straight there. No way! Become a sow myself, oh no I was going to make something of myself thank you very much."

Without consciously realising it, she shifted into her own world, and Carl's presence seemed to recede. She was lost in her recollection, until Carl spoke:

"You felt offended?" Katie felt her face flush. Why was she flushing? She was irritated with herself for being so defensive. Had she felt offended? Perhaps, she thought quietly to herself, she had felt found out. She shook her head, "Of course I felt offended. I didn't want him getting the wrong idea."

"What he say then?"

"He just said, 'it's ok to look. You see how much they are enjoying life here. Go and talk with some of them. I'll catch up with you later see how you got on.' I remember him smiling. It was a warm welcoming smile. I had not expected that. I had expected him to be leering at me, trying to get me into one of his pens."

Katie sat for a moment. Carl interruption had reminded her that this was her confession to her boss. She felt shaky and humiliated having to recall all this. Yet she was drawn forward. "I spoke with a few of the sows and they were so welcoming and encouraging. To my amazement they felt sorry for me! I couldn't believe it. They told me I could come for a weekend break to try it out. It wasn't the same as being a sow, but I could use it as a taster. Well I said, 'no I was not interested' and when I saw that trainer returning, I high tailed it out of there."

"Well I got to thinking about it afterwards. In fact, I couldn't really stop thinking about it. I knew I was going to try it out long before I came to accept it. Then in a rush, like an impulse -- although I had been thinking about it for such a long time, I signed up for a weekend."

"Did they explain to you about the sow mark?"

"I didn't get the mark the first time. I just tried it out the first weekend, and I was so nervous. The trainer was so gentle with me and explained all about the lifestyle. He introduced me to a couple of the sows who befriended me, and by the time the weekend was over I felt a lot more reassured. So I went again. Each time I would go a bit further, try a bit more of the sow life. They were such relaxing weekends, being in the company of so many friends and not having to worry about anything. Meals provided. Then the sex was fantastic." Katie stopped short. She went bright red. She hadn't intended telling him she entertained customers over some of those weekends, but Carl's face was impassive.

"It's ok Katie. Please go on. Tell me about the time you were marked."

Katie realised that she was letting her mouth be controlled by her nasty sow loving side. She hated that she had gotten into this now, but she had no idea how to get back out of it. She was struggling as much trying to stop herself, and Carl's patient encouragement seemed to undermine her efforts.

Katie thought back to the time she was marked, and the arousal she had felt. She still longed to experience that intensity of feelings again. Since then she had never again experienced such forceful sexual lust. Why had she given it up? She thought back to that sow Ginny who had befriended her, and how she had become dependent upon being milked on her husband's machine. In fact it had come to regulate her whole life, so that everything she did revolved around her milking times. She remembered the tightening feeling she had in her own udders. They didn't produce milk, she wasn't on the feed, but she longed to be. She found herself becoming immensely aroused at the sight of the milking machine and wanting more and more to be mounted upon it. This had scared her so much. It made her realise she was getting in to something far out of her depth to deal with. It would consume her and she had to get out now before she was in too deep.