Alisha is sent to the Farm Pt. 02

"I thought she was supposed to be a cow, not a pig!" Tom Craddock quipped from behind her.

"Pigs are intelligent animals," Jacob growled. "She's not ready to join them yet."

In spite of the relentless aching inside her body, and the dazed and befuddled state of her mind, Alisha still felt a stab of indignation at her new master's cruel remarks. Ordinarily, in the outside world, she would run intellectual rings around these people - but now, after Craddock's quibbling about her porcine versus bovine status, Mister Jacob was inferring that she didn't even have the mental capacity of a pig!

It was clear and sunny outside, but the early fall breeze was cold on her wet body. As she was led around the corner of the milking shed followed by her perverted entourage, Alisha's bare feet skidded in the mud as she instinctively put the brakes on. Early that morning, before dawn had broken, she had suffered the enormous humiliation of being studied curiously by a young farmhand who had come into the shed to take the cows out to pasture.

He hadn't spoken to her, which had made her predicament even more emotionally painful, as he had seemed to quite naturally regard her as just another part of the livestock! Such had been her acute embarrassment that Alisha too, a remained silent, merely turning her face away he had examined the pile of excrement she had earlier left on the floor. Now, as they approached the fallow field behind the shed, Alisha saw him again - but this time he was not alone!

*

Casting his eyes towards the field, Alastair quickly saw what had caused Alisha to panic. There were six or seven farmhands going about their tasks on the small farm, which he guessed heightened her sense of abashment. But of far more significance, one of the laborers, who was helping to load bales of straw onto the back of a pick-up, was black!

During her travails of recent times, Alisha had revealed the depth of pride she had in herself, and of course, an upwardly mobile African-American city girl like that would also be fiercely passionate about defending her racial heritage. So it should have come as no surprise to him that she was so mortified at having one of her own kind watch her inquisitively as she was manhandled past.

Even more interesting to Alastair was the man didn't show any signs of outrage our indignation at seeing one of his negro sisters being degraded in this fashion. Obviously, Jacob's workers were accustomed to seeing this kind of thing, and even though Alisha might have been the first black girl brought here, it clearly made no difference to these guys. What a peculiar, but delightful set-up! Jacob had really created a maledom fantasy world up here, where a female slave - whatever her color - had absolutely no rights at all!

Alastair noticed Alisha averting her eyes in disgrace as Matthew swung the gate open and they stepped out onto the grassy verge of the field. For a couple of hundred yards, there was nothing but flat, cold, mud, leading out across to the distant tree line. Lying on the mud next to the grass was an old-fashioned moldboard plow, the like of which Alastair hadn't seen since a childhood field trip to Colonial Williamsburg!

Richard pulled the plow into an upright position, while his younger brother strapped Alisha into a leather harness coupled to the wooden frame. With her arms bound tightly behind her, and the straps running above and below her breasts, Alisha was ready to begin her newest role on the farm - as a beast of burden!

Chapter Eleven

Darius recorded the moment that Alisha was strapped into the harness with his trusty Sure Shot. His video and image library of Alisha's shameful experiences was growing steadily, and he intending to put it to full use when her training on the farm was completed. It would serve as more blackmail material to keep the unhappy girl under his control, as well as a useful device to keep reminding her of what she had been through here, lest she try to forget.

Steered by the elbow off the verge, Alisha led out a mewl of protest as her bare feet sank into the cloying mud. Her naked, fat belly and breasts wobbled comically as Richard, his own body protected by a winter warmer, jeans, and rubber boots, pulled the straps even tighter, pushing them forward like dark brown torpedoes.

Biting her lip with anguish and pain, Alisha's turned her face towards the trees, and glancing behind him, Darius saw why. Three of the male farmhands were leaning on the fence to enjoy the lewd spectacle, including the older black man. His had an intensely fascinated expression on his face, and it was interesting to Darius that he was clearly deriving pleasure from the bizarre and perverted scene.

Up until this point, Alisha had seemed too preoccupied with her pain and embarrassment to offer any resistance, but when Richard pulled a bridle out of one of his pockets, the woeful girl began to shake her head frantically. It was much like the one that Jacob had threatened her with the previous day, but Darius noticed that the bit was made of rubber and not steel. The intention then, was to humiliate more than to hurt in this instance.

"Hold still now Daisy, you stupid cow," Richard said, as she twisted her neck away from him.

"Or would you prefer to taste the steel one?" Jacob added.

With a moan of resignation, Alisha opened her mouth, allowing Richard to slip the rubber bit between her teeth. Then he did up the straps, pulling them around the back of her head and also over the top of her crown. The resulting view was priceless! With her arms pinioned behind her, her thick underarm hair poking out on display, her large breasts thrust obscenely forward, her swollen belly jiggling below, another dense thatch of hair covering her crotch with outgrowths crawling up to her navel as well as up her butt crack, and her naked feet buried in the mud up to her ankles, she looked beautifully bestial and delightfully absurd!

Now that she was securely trussed up, Richard fished into another pocket on his jacket and produced a short-handled whip, shaking it out so that the leather lashes hung loosely down. Holding it up in front of her wide and fearful eyes, he said, "When you feel this across your back, its time to get to work."

Then he moved back around behind the ancient farming device and, framed in Darius' viewfinder, raised the whip high above his head.

*

Which was worst? The awful cramps in her bloated stomach, the searing pain across her back and buttocks each time Richard whipped her, or the aching in her thighs and calves as she pulled her cold bare feet out of the sucking mud?

None of the above. As she focused on the tree line, Alisha could not get the image of the black farm worker's face out of her head. The addition of yet more witnesses to her degradation had been a nasty shock to her. Somehow, after being stripped, made to crawl around in rotting compost, and then later milked and forced into endless orgasms in front of Nash and his accomplices, Alisha had crossed a kind of emotional threshold. It wasn't that she didn't find it any less humiliating - on the contrary, the burning shame she felt was constant - but now that they had all seen her this way, a slight sense of resignation had descended upon her. Maybe it was a safety mechanism, but she was already compartmentalizing this traumatic nightmare, separating it from her real life in the city. This Alisha, naked and humbled, was a separate identity to the respected young law student that she truly was.

However, this illusion kept being sorely tested each time new spectators were added to the picture. First, it had just been Nash, then he had introduced a few of his close friends, then Jacob and his sons, and each time the perverted circle of onlookers had widened, she was cruelly whisked back to her original emotional reaction of humiliation and outrage. So performing in front of nine men now, fresh waves of embarrassment washed over her - but it was the African-American's presence that had cut through her defenses the most.

She had only briefly glimpsed him before quickly averting her eyes, but what she had seen in that brief moment had both chilled and disgusted her. This man was one of her own, and ludicrously, she had fleetingly assumed that he was also here in bondage, but there had been no downcast expression on his face, no sadness or sympathy in his eyes. No, he had the same fascinated and lustful glint in his eye as the rest of the terrible white folk here!

As she pulled the plow past them, Alisha could feel his eyes wandering over her perspiring, nude form, and she had a sudden desperate urge to cover herself. A part of her had kind of accepted the white people having unlimited viewing access to her most intimate parts, but not another one of her own race! Then again, was he even viewing her as a woman, or merely as an animal working the soil? Woefully, she realized that in total contrast to her sophisticated city lifestyle, she was currently a creature far below even a lowly colored farmhand in the social pecking order.

These ramblings passed quickly through Alisha's disordered mind while she leaned forward in order to drag the plow through the cloying mud. It was forty yards or so to the right side of the field and the nasty comments coming from Tom and Matthew began to fade on the wind. She was left with the bestial sounds of her nasal snorting, and the incongruous chirping of the birds in the trees. Reaching the grassy bank at the end, Alisha lurched in agony as Richard applied another lash across the small of her back.

"Turn it around, Daisy!"

Raising her knees to drag her feet clear, she succeeded with some effort to pull the hateful plow around. Facing back up the field, she had been clinging to a the vain hope that her merciless spectators might have left, but there they all were, still lined up eagerly behind the fence. Her heart sinking, Alisha began the slow and tortuous journey back up the field. As exhausted as she felt, her legs managed to keep going, and although she had always kept herself in shape, Alisha was frankly amazed at the extra levels of energy she was somehow drawing upon. Could that be one of the effects of the drugs they were implanting inside her?

Drawing alongside the men, Alisha's brain received a sudden and mortifying message from her bowels. She wasn't sure if turning her attention to the suppository had triggered the reaction, or it had simply dissolved away, but to her absolute horror, she knew she was going to relieve herself directly in front of them.

Oh please God, no! Not here!

But there was to be no denying nature's call. The excruciating pressure inside her demanded release, and with a despairing howl around the rubber bit, Alisha felt her sphincter opening as the first powerful spurt of water broke free.

Chapter Twelve

My word! Alastair though breathlessly. Does it get any better than this?

As she drew up alongside them, Alisha quite unexpectedly ejected a powerful jet of brownish water onto the muddy field below. The unseemly act was accompanied by a bestial bellow that betrayed her wretched shame as well as her utter relief.

From the size of her stomach, Alastair knew that she had taken an obscenely large amount of water on board, and now the laws of physics - as well as physiology - were taking over as blast after powerful blast erupted from Alisha's backside.

"There she blows! Not only plowing the field but fertilizing it too!" Tom Craddock roared as Alisha rolled her eyes madly, clearly relishing the relief whilst inwardly dying from the humiliation of fulfilling this most personal of bodily functions in public. To make her suffering even worse, Richard brought the lash across her contused back to ensure she kept moving along!

This was the second time in a day that they had been privy to her anal issue, and Alastair was certain that it would be repeated in various despicable guises over the coming fortnight. Watching her lovely round ass as she disappeared up field, still squirting her waste-water behind her, it suddenly struck Alastair how much this young lady had fallen already - and this was only day two!

What other delightfully depraved abuses did Jacob have in store for her? She had been an earthworm and was now a cow. He guessed that eventually she would graduate to being a house slave, but he was sure there would be many steps on the ladder before that happened. What other animals had he seen on this farm? There had been a pig pen, as well as a paddock containing a few ponies. There were also a few dogs and chickens running freely around.

Would Alisha have to become each one of them in turn before she was returned to a low-level human status? The possibilities were as mouthwatering as they were endless, and the only pity was that Alastair would be resuming his manservant duties at Pemberton Hall in the evening. But he was already deeply curious as to what condition Alisha would be in when he returned the following weekend!

*

It was no use trying to hold them back - tears of desolation rolled down over Alisha's high cheekbones as snot streamed from her flaring nostrils, running around her bit-stretched lips to join the rivulets of saliva drooling from the corners of her mouth, while an anal drizzle continued from her hindquarters, now newly accompanied by intermittent spurts of urine. Amidst the full body sweat worked up by her strenuous exertions, the flow of her fluid wastes seemed to know no end. With her evil audience's cackles and roars of laughter reverberating in her ears, she twice stopped to concentrate on the blessed relief that had been so long in coming. How was it possible to feel so emotionally destroyed but physically sated at the same time? Each pause earned her the sharp sting of the leather whip across her back, jerking her forward with the filthy waterfall still cascading down her inner thighs.

How much more was there? Even as she reached the opposite end of the field and started her slippery, slimy, about-turn, the water was still pouring out of her! Making her next approach to her 'grandstand' crowd, Alisha unfairly felt disgusted with herself that her body could have held such a great volume of liquid. Is that all she was now? A human receptacle?

At least the crushing pressure in her torso had abated, but still she was not to be spared any saving graces. Why her body continuously conspired against her in this way, she could not work out, but just as she was back within earshot of the men, the last vestiges of the dripping water were interspersed with a crude series of noisy farts!

The uproarious laughter that greeted these loud gaseous emissions was even more painful than the smarting whip, and the most crushing part was that she was unable to control them! Making her second pass-by, Alisha continued to break wind in a most undignified manner, and the constant stream of nasty comments only added fuel to her mortification.

"Do you fart like that at work?"

"All that proud bullshit you gave us when you arrived. Now we can see how you really are."

"I'll bet she picks her nose, too! Surely she doesn't blow out the snot in the office like she's doing now?"

"And spits in the street to keep from drooling at her desk!"

"Probably keeps a bucket under her desk for when she can't make it to the toilet!"

"Do you chew your own toenails at home, Daisy?"

"Ha! I'd like to see that. Maybe we can try that later!"

Blinking back the tears, Alisha tried desperately to ignore them. She was a good, clean girl and she had to keep reminding herself of that. The only reason she was doing these vile things was because... because... why? Why was she here? There was a reason she was here, wasn't there? She didn't belong here, surely?

Then she remembered again. Of course - Nash and the blackmail photos. Her work at - what was it? - Bale and Farringdon. No, Bale, Thomas and Farringdon. Come on girl, clear your head! What the hell is wrong with me? Who is your mentor there? She tried to picture his face. He was a handsome African-American man, whom she intuitively knew was very much attracted to her, although she had kept their relationship strictly professional so far. What was his name though? How could she have forgotten something like that?

She tried to picture his face, but all she got was the older black farmhand leaning on the fence. Get out! Get out of my head! I don't want you, I want the other one!

A sharp crack across the buttocks brought Alisha back to the present and she discovered that they were back at the other end of the field. She was no longer breaking wind, but her body had now launched into a series of violent hiccups, each one jerking her breasts upward and clanging the tin bell hanging between them.

Turning, she skidded in the mud, and unable to support herself with her arms, fell to her knees and then over onto her face. She lay there for a moment, her face in the clammy mud, grateful for the rest, but then she felt the burning fury of the whip across her buttocks, once, twice, and then after the third one, she maneuvered herself over onto her side, and squirming in the mud, managed to get back onto her knees.

Richard had come around from behind the plow, and gripping her arms, yanked her to her feet. She couldn't see him because she had mud in her eyes, but then she felt his thumbs rubbing her eye sockets and her vision gradually returned.

Richard gave her a look of contempt and said, "Look at the state of you. What a mess! If you can't complete a simple task like this, how are you ever going to prove to my Pa that you deserve to be let in the house?"

Alisha had no answer. Maybe he was right. It was a rhetorical question because she was incapable of speech with the rubber bit clamped between her teeth, so instead she hiccupped loudly, making her feel even more foolish, if that was at all possible.

"Good God, Daisy, come on!" Richard said. "We've got the whole field to cover, and at this rate we'll be here all morning."

Caked in mud, naked in an open country field, a bridle fastened around her head, and harnessed to an old-fashioned plow with a cow bell around her neck, Alisha had never felt so unworthy in her life. Again she asked herself if it could possibly get any worse, but then again, she had asked herself that question several times already - and each time, it had!

Chapter Thirteen

After consuming a rather filling plowman's lunch, Jacob took Darius, Alastair, and Tom back over to the milking shed, to check on Alisha's progress. They had left her struggling through the mud - and covered from head to foot in it - with Matthew helming the old plow behind her. The two brothers were sharing the task, because the glutinous earth had a tendency to suck on their rubber boots making it rather heavy going.

Alisha, of course, had no such luxury, and would have to cover the entire four acres herself. Of course, she was doing all the hard work anyway, the boys merely having to follow behind and keep the plow upright. This had caused Darius to comment over lunch on Alisha's incredible resources of energy, but Jacob had explained that there were some powerful stimulants included in the suppositories that would ensure the girl did not pass out no matter how drained she might feel.

Quite amazing, Darius mused as they entered the shed. Jacob really has covered every angle!

Inside, he permitted himself a wry chuckle at the arousing sight that greeted them. Her morning's work complete, Alisha was now having a bath. But far from being a pleasant soak in a tubful of warm water, predictably, this experience was intended to be every bit as unpleasant as all the others.

She was perched on the rim of a tin tub, bent over on all fours with her toes and fingers clinging precariously to the hard edges. Her obscene position meant that her head and breasts hung down, and her rump was pushed up into the air with her thighs wide apart. Matthew and Richard were sponging the mud from her body with cold, soapy water, clearly relishing taking their time as they carefully covered every minute part of her nude body.