End of the Road Farm

"You will listen attentively because I will not repeat this. First I will tell you about my rules and me. Then I will tell you something about our women's society, the meeting I bought you at last night and what you can expect in your future. But before that I will eliminate any thoughts you might have of even thinking about escaping from here. That is totally impossible as Miss Stern and her team, have wired up the entire house and I enjoy total remote control over every room and all other areas, inside the house and outside. Had you attempted to make a dash for the back door when we came in here you would have received a high level shock and would have been in agony for several days, if not longer. You will be given enough open-space to carry out your duties as instructed but if you try to enter any area without my permission you will automatically receive a level '3" response. The exterior doors and windows are all wired to give you a level "4" or "5" if you do try to go through them and either of those levels could be fatal. You will stay within my strictly determined boundaries every single moment of the rest of your life. In other words, there is no way of escape, you no longer exist as a person, you have no options and I intend to recover every cent of your high purchase price many times over.

As I told you yesterday my name is Mistress Gudrun but you will refer to me as Mistress whenever the need arises to speak to me. The only time you will speak to me is to answer me when I ask you a question. You will lower your head in my presence, never staring me in the eyes unless I tell you to look at me. Touching me, in any way, will result in a week of severe punishment and total deprivation. For your information, I am a widow living alone and have one daughter who lives in Brazil. She has never once bothered to contact me since she left here, ten years ago, with her share of my late-husband's estate. As a result of his convenient death I am independently wealthy. I am known to be extremely eccentric and I never entertain visitors, other than members of our women's society. Once every two weeks I pick up all my groceries and supplies in town, some 40 miles away. In other words, I never have uninvited guests and, anyway, nobody can get beyond the perimeter fence and electronic gates so you will have no opportunity at all to contact other people. We are totally isolated from the outside world and that suits both my life-style and me very well. My phone and computer are in my office which is strictly off-limits to you and guarded by a level "5" response. You are here to serve me in any and every way I see fit and you will be on call 24-hours a day. If you perform well you will be treated with a level of kindness that, I am sure, you did not experience at Miss Stern's Farm. But do not become complacent or disrespectful as my punishment room downstairs has every torture item imaginable and, if I am sufficiently angered, I will use each and every one of them on you until you wished you were dead. I am not a sadist but I do enjoy the enormous feeling of satisfaction I get from a good torture session when it is deserved. I will expect superior performance from you and the slightest indication of sloppiness on your part will result in one of those previously mentioned long and painful punishment and deprivation sessions. As you come to understand the level of performance I demand you will become familiar with my various methods of punishment and you will quickly learn to exceed my expectations or suffer the severe consequences.

You will immediately, today, resign yourself to the fact that this is your final "home" as you will never leave here again. That is right, never! You might as well accept this fact without any ridiculous misconceptions or perverted hopes. Our women's society is very exclusive and membership is strictly controlled. In each case our husbands or parents left us considerable sums of money, allowing us to live out our fantasies rather than just dream about them. The auction I bought you at last night occurs once every year, around this time, at a different members home each year. You probably remember that after we inspected the slaves on offer last night we went off to enjoy our annual banquet. This is the highlight of our year as we are able to indulge in our favorite activity – eating a wonderful, well-prepared gourmet dinner of male human flesh – yes, you heard me right, male human flesh, from our inventory of slaves. Each year a member is honored by being chosen to supply the slave and cook him for our meal, and, at some point in the future you will be privileged to be served, by me, when I am selected to host the annual banquet for our society."

Alex could not believe what he was hearing and, paralyzed with fear, he just sat there unable to say or do anything while absorbing this horrendous indictment.

"In order to provide variety only a limited number of the current members are eligible for the opportunity to host the meeting and banquet in any year. Last night it was Bella's turn and she will be removed from the list for three years. Vera, the provider last year has another two years to wait for eligibility and the successful member from two years ago, Francine, has just one more year to wait. I was on the list of eligible members this year and will be each year until I am honored with the responsibility of hosting the event and serving you at the banquet. It might be my turn again next year or, according to the luck of the draw, I might have to wait for many years. It's been six years since I was so honored so I am hoping my turn will come very soon. I bought you last night to replace my previous slave who, annoyingly, died a few months ago. He was a few years older than you and, unluckily for him; he could not keep up with his work schedule and died of exhaustion. You are young and healthy so I do not anticipate the same unsatisfactory result from you

The lottery for next year's annual celebration will take place in about six months and, if I am the lucky member selected, I will have about six months to get you "oven-ready". They will be six wonderful months for us, working together with frequent help from other members, preparing you for your final use, and I know you will be equally thrilled as we get you prepared and ready for the banquet table."

Alex was totally sick to his stomach and the fear he had felt before was now meaningless compared to the total horror of what lay before him. He wondered if she was, perhaps, completely mad and delusional but before he had a chance even to consider that more fully she continued.

"You probably think I am a crazy, demented old woman but let me assure you that I am completely sane and fully aware of everything I am doing and plan to do. All the other slaves auctioned off last night are being told the same facts of life to-day by their new owners". She then carried a 15-inch television across to the table and placed it in front of him and inserted a DVD into the slot. "This is Bella's record of the last six months. It starts when she told her slave that she had been selected to host this year's meeting and he would be served for dinner. It documents every significant event right up to and including the preparation, cooking and serving of him as her main course offering. Watch it and you will realize the ritual importance to us of this event as it takes place every year – you will also see me helping in the kitchen, preparing the roast, checking on its progress and, finally, joining all the others in the celebration and feast last night. You will see the joy on the face of her slave as he takes his final breath and you will also be impressed by the love flowing from Bella as he is sacrificed. Slave, you will share in this joy and excitement sometime in the next few years as I prepare you for the banquet".

The DVD ran for almost an hour and did indeed cover everything from his facial expression when he, the slave, was told his Mistress had won and he would be served for the banquet. It covered, in detail, the fattening-up process right up to his last few days when he was given a series of painful enemas to clear all the toxins from his body. The last twenty minutes or so dealt with the preparations on the day and clearly showed the unmitigated pleasure and excitement on the faces of Bella and the two winners from the previous two banquets as they brought the poor wretch into the kitchen, hoisted him onto the counter and went through their various rituals and preparations. He had a ball-gag in his mouth to prevent any noise but was intentionally not blindfolded so that the women could enjoy his facial expressions as he was systematically shaved, trussed-up on a huge roasting pan, jabbed all over with skewers and seasoned. The screen went blank for a few seconds and then the final act before he was rolled into a large pizza-style brick oven took place – that of Bella ceremoniously cutting off his testicles. Mistress Gudrun, panting with obvious excitement, explained that the hostess had the right to enjoy these delicacies as an appetizer if she so desired and said that these were a much sought after delicacy but, for the best flavor, had to be removed just moments before the roasting began.

Once the slave was inside the oven the women sat down around the kitchen table and enjoyed a glass of wine. Bella removed the implanted homing device from one of the testicles and then appeared to put them into a marinade. The screen then blacked out again, momentarily, before coming back to show the removal of the roast from the oven, the wheeling of it into the banquet room and the anticipation on the faces of the women as they lined up to get their portions of freshly roasted male flesh. The slave was unrecognizable but it was clear that the roast was the same human form. Bella stood up, proposed a toast to the departed slave and, in the traditional way, consumed the testicles to the sophisticated applause of the other women... End of DVD.

"Now, slave, you will be locked in your room for a week or so while you learn to accept your new status as my property and overcome the initial shock of your ultimate use. Believe me, I know from experience that you will soon recognize the inevitability of your fate and become at peace with it. I know it is a hard fate to stomach, no pun intended, but you will be contributing to a most worthwhile cause. When I let you out, two of your previous handlers will be here to replace your homing device with the latest micro-chip device designed by Miss Stern and that will be more comfortable for you and significantly more user-friendly for me."

With that Mistress Gudrun picked up an electric cattle prod, undid the shackles on his ankles and directed him into the workshop adjacent to the kitchen, zapping him painfully several times on the way. He was ordered to open a trap door beneath a piece of indoor-outdoor carpet under the workbench and ordered to squeeze through the opening and down a 10-foot rope ladder. Once down, she immediately pulled up the ladder, replaced the trapdoor and left him alone in total darkness. He was able to locate a lumpy mattress on the floor and laid down on it – too shocked to even contemplate the next few days let alone the rest of his now obviously limited lifespan and his ultimate demise.

...

For the next week he received one 'meal' a day of cold oatmeal sent down in a bowl attached to a rope harness. For those few seconds there was some light in the cell but, apart from that, he was left in total darkness the whole time. He had found a hole in the floor in one corner and assumed it was a toilet. There was also a spigot on one wall and he was able to get a drink of cold water and wash off his face. If this was her "level of kindness" he thought, then he was in total fear of the treatment he would receive on a bad day.

He kept going over the DVD in his mind, time after time, trying to see if there was any trick of photography that could explain the whole thing but, each time, he saw the look of utter panic on the face of the slave as he was slowly rolled into the oven in the large roasting pan. He remembered the camera being focused through the glass window on the oven door and it was quite clear that it was exactly the same person inside and watched, in horror, as blisters and lesions developed as the helpless slave pulled uselessly on his bindings as his skin and flesh heated up. With those awful visions in his head, sleep was difficult to come by and his life was plagued by nightmares even during his wakeful periods. He recalled thinking that on the night of the auction he compared the women's prodding and pushing to 'being in a meat market'. He realized now just how agonizingly true that description was – a human meat market with a group of utterly depraved women sizing up the slaves for first a period of total slavery followed by a trip to the annual banquet as a meal. This thought sent shivers through his body and he cried out in anguish, knowing that nobody could hear him and, even if they could, based on what he had seen already, none of the women would give a damn, in fact they would probably derive great pleasure from his tearful predicament.

Although filled with dread and despair he still managed to go over the film time and time again looking for a glimmer of opportunity to escape but, obviously, the women had thought of everything and any dreams of freedom only added to his utter despair. He realized that there were a lot more than six women at the banquet so there were many others involved, directly or indirectly, in this disgusting way of life.

Based on the number of food containers on the concrete floor he figured he had been locked away in this dark "dungeon" for ten days when, finally, the trap door was opened and the rope ladder lowered to the floor.

"Up" was the one-word command and he complied immediately, knowing that any delay would be dealt with by a shock from the homing device. As he reached the top of the ladder the light temporarily blinded him and, in a matter seconds, three pairs of hands had manhandled him onto a gurney and his ankles and wrists had been firmly locked into place at the four corners. He was wheeled into another room and, by then, his eyes had adjusted to the light and he could see it was some kind of utility room with tiled walls and floor. The gurney was rotated to about 45 degrees to the left and he felt a hand smear some cream on to his backside. Moments later Mistress Gudrun placed a thin glass beaker over the top of his cock and secured it with medical tape. Then he saw and heard her snap on a rubber glove. Next he felt something pushing on his ass and he realized that she was inserting one of her thick fingers right up inside him. It was most uncomfortable but he thought complaining would do no good and, would in fact, cause him a lot more pain. She found his prostate and began to harshly massage it. Alex hadn't even thought about an orgasm since he had been fitted with his first homing device, roughly two years ago, but he could feel his seminal fluid moving up his cock without any pleasurable sensation. His cum squirted into the beaker, which was then immediately removed and stoppered with a plastic cork. Once that was accomplished Mistress Gudrun took off her glove and threw it into a garbage can.

"OK ladies, it's time to fit him with the new homing device. I'll put the ball-gag in his mouth to keep him quiet and then we'll leave him here to contemplate the procedure while we have a cup coffee on the patio." Before they left they rotated the gurney back to horizontal and threw a heavy rubber sheet over him.

Later, he heard them come back and lift the rubber sheet off the lower part of his body and folding over his chest and head, leaving two thick layers pressing down on his face. One of the women used a key to first loosen part of the device and then she had to saw it off the rest with a hacksaw. She was not at all gentle, frequently banging either her hand or the saw against his cock and balls causing some loss of blood, but the ball-gag effectively prevented him making any noise. Once the device was removed a piece of wood or plaster board was slid under his balls which were then grabbed unceremoniously and pulled downwards and outwards, stretching the sac to its limit. He felt several brief, searing pains and realized his ball-sac had been stapled to the board. Gloria or Nancy asked Mistress Gudrun if she wanted them to freeze the area before inserting the new microchip inside one of his balls and she quickly replied that it would not be necessary, saying that he would have to get used to pain so he might as well start now. An incision was made in his scrotum and one of his balls was lifted up and out. He felt a sharp jab and became quite nauseous but realized that that must have been the implant going in. Sure enough, he felt her put it back in the sac and counted four stitches being applied to his scrotum. The rubber sheet was removed from his face and all three women looked at him intently. He was wondering why, when a tremendous jolt, followed by searing pain, racked his entire body. He literally rose several inches off the gurney and felt the cuffs on his wrists and ankles ripping at his skin. "So, the implant is in and it works like a charm" said Nancy, with a big smile spreading across her face, "we'll put some tape on the incision and come back in a few days to take out the stitches and carry out some more tests to make sure it is working properly."

All three of them left the room leaving Alex shaking uncontrollably on the gurney with tears flowing down on to his cheeks. The last comment had really shaken him... 'make sure it is working properly and do some more tests'. The thought of waiting for a few days, knowing what was coming reduced him to a blubbering wreck.

Soon after the former handlers left Mistress Gudrun came back into the room and, seeing him crying, smacked him hard across both cheeks. "Stop that at once! Show some gratitude for what we have just done for you. Now you have the latest device installed and you will have no more discomfort like you had from the old one. You should be grateful for my kindness. You will now go back into your room until Nancy comes back to take out the stitches. Once that is done you will start your regular slave duties. Initially I will be milking you twice or three times a week, depending on your semen production. It will be uncomfortable for you but I need your fluid for my skin-care program. See how beautiful my skin is? – It makes me look twenty years younger. Once I have got your prostate adapted to my needs it will become a daily procedure so do not even think of masturbating yourself in your room as you will truly regret it – your device is programmed to pick up such abuse and will respond with a very painful experience for you, slave. Now, I am going to unfasten your clamps and you will go back to your room."

The thought of spending more time in that pitch-black "room" as she called it, was horrifying but at least he knew he would be left alone and not be abused for a few days. He got off the gurney and made his way, painfully, into the workshop, feeling the occasional electric shock from her cattle prod. He opened the trap door without any further encouragement from Mistress Gudrun or her cattle prod, lowered the rope ladder and went down. Immediately he touched the floor she began pulling up the ladder, closing and bolting the trap door less than a minute later.

Six Months Later:

Alex had spent the last six months in absolute hell. After Nancy had removed the stitches from his scrotum and the device exhaustively and very painfully tested, much to her sadistic delight, he was put to work by Mistress Gudrun doing all the domestic chores. She was, to put it mildly, a filthy slut, who delighted in making a mess knowing that her slave would be working exhaustively all day just to keep up with her. One of her favorite pastimes was to throw food or drink on the floor immediately after Alex had scrubbed and polished it. She would sometimes do this several times a day and he would find himself on his knees scrubbing the floor for five or six hours. Her bathroom had to be cleaned completely every time she used it – meaning that sometimes he cleaned it seven or eight times a day. She didn't believe in flushing the toilet – that was why she had a slave at her beck and call. On an average day he had to be up and working by six a.m. in order to have her full breakfast and coffee delivered to her room by 7:00. Each day her sheets had to be laundered and ironed and all the clothes she had worn the previous day had to be laundered and ironed or pressed. Although he cooked her a full breakfast of eggs, bacon and hash browns, or steak and eggs, every day he received only a small bowl of oatmeal. At night he would be ordered to prepare and cook a complex meal according to a diet she was following rigorously but his evening meal would be nothing more than a bowl of raw vegetables and perhaps a small scoop of chili or macaroni cheese. About once or twice a month she would allow him to eat the scraps left on her plate but she was such a sloppy eater that even getting "real food" was a far-from-pleasant experience. He was finally locked in his 'room' anywhere between 10:00pm and midnight unless he was taken to the punishment room to be mercilessly thrashed or tortured for the slightest reason. Occasionally Mistress Gudrun would entertain one or more of her society members for dinner and an overnight stay. After cooking and serving their meal he would have to serve drinks to them till very late in the evening when, somewhat inebriated, they would boisterously order him to the torture room and torture him for several hours until their depraved minds and bodies had been satisfied.