Shouldering the Load

It had been clear from the beginning that this was going to be a hard day.

They hadn't been able to finish their work load the day before, which meant they'd be expected to catch up in addition to completing all the chores already planned for the day. To make matters worse, in a stroke of impeccable timing, five of the slave girls had been sent into their week of vacation due to their periods, while only three other slaves had returned from their week off, leaving them understaffed.

Over her breakfast porridge Mona heard her fellow slaves whisper about the situation. Opinions seemed to be split about fifty-fifty. Half the slaves suggested talking to Catherine, their overseer, to ask if it was possible to relax the schedule for the day. The other half insisted that this was an opportunity to show off their dedication to their work and that they were ready to rise to the challenge.

Mona herself was very much with the second camp. After all, she hadn't become a slave because she liked slacking off. She didn't see a need to join in the conversation, though. Everyone should've been able to guess her opinion and besides, it was breakfast time. Waking up slowly over a peaceful breakfast was the one luxury she allowed herself. Unless you counted the perks she enjoyed from being a slave in her Lady's mansion as luxuries. Those she enjoyed in plenty.

Mona had never understood why one would want to become, for example, a maid. Sure, being a slave was a lot of hard work, but that was much more satisfying than standing around in silly dresses all day. She hadn't worn clothes since spring and God knew she didn't miss the feeling of itchy fabric on her skin. Also, who needed a bed when you could have a straw-matted kennel? Especially if you shared it with so many fellow slave girls that nightly orgies were inevitable with so many hot bodies perched together.

Mona licked the last traces of porridge from her bowl, still happily reminiscing about the previous night, when something happened that made her rethink her plan not to get involved. Lisa, one of the newest slaves, declared that she was going to ask Catherine for a reduction of their work load.

Lisa was shaking. Mona understood her all too well. Even though Mona had taken the job because being a lowly slave was what she'd always yearned for, in the beginning it had all been a bit much. And Catherine had a reputation for being strict and cruel, even by the standard of the other overseers. A fact that had earned her a high standing with the more masochistically inclined slaves, but it took some time to let go of the fear and fully embrace her for what she was, even more so if you were new to the lifestyle. This in turn raised the question why Lisa had volunteered.

"Sure you don't want to finish your breakfast?" Mona asked. Lisa was barely half done with her bowl and if she went to confront Catherine, there was a good chance she wouldn't get to finish it. "It's no problem. I can go on your behalf."

Lisa took her up on the offer so quickly and gratefully, that Mona found her suspicions confirmed: Some of the other girl's must've talked her into it and Lisa had only agreed because of the peer pressure. Maybe Mona should have a word with Lisa and the other newbies about this in the evening.

For now, though, she had other things to worry about. Even as a seasoned slave, actively seeking out Catherine with a request took some guts. The chances that she'd get what she asked for were slim to non-existent. Or at least the chances that she'd get what she asked for without paying a hefty price. So far every encounter she'd had with Catherine had ended either painful or humiliating or both. Which, if she was honest, was just another reason why she'd volunteered for Lisa.

Mona stopped in front of Catherine's table. It wasn't proper for a slave to speak first, so she waited patiently until the overseer had finished eating her butter scone and, after a deliberately long sip of coffee, finally addressed her. "What seems to be the matter, Mona?"

"Mistress Catherine, I'm asking on behalf of my fellow slave Lisa if it would be possible to reduce our workload today. We are understaffed and yet we have more work than usual because we didn't get to weed the Northern acres yesterday."

"I know the state of matters. There is no need to remind me." Catherine's voice remained sweet and friendly, but Mona had already learned that this didn't have to be a good sign. "So you are asking on behalf of Lisa? Why did that girl not ask me herself, pray tell?"

Mona knew she had to choose her words carefully. She'd mentioned Lisa to imply that asking for less work didn't align with her own opinion, but at the same time she didn't want to cause Lisa any hardships. "It is because I greatly treasure Lisa. She is still new and I want to make sure she isn't overworked in a way that would sour her experience as a slave."

"You treasure her greatly, you say?"

Mona swallowed. She had no idea where this was going. There hadn't been enough time to think of a good answer and she'd chosen the first approach that had come to mind. Did she treasure Lisa greatly? She certainly thought the girl was cute as hell, but so far she hadn't interacted with Lisa enough to form a more meaningful connection.

"You shall get a chance to prove your conviction. Tell Lisa that you both are to accompany me to the Northern acres. The other slaves shall be free to worry only about today's scheduled tasks."

Mona's heart sank. Weeding the acres was enough work to keep three slaves busy for a day at a normal pace. With two they'd have to give it their all for the entire day in order to make it.

"Mistress Catherine..."

Catherine raised an eyebrow, immediately shutting Mona up. "Are you going to bother me again? I will personally make sure that your treasured Lisa is not going to get overworked. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Mona nodded curtly, not daring to say anything.

"I am glad we cleared that up. However, I feel like you need a reminder of when it is proper to speak and when it is not. You will spend the day wearing a ball gag. Unless I explicitly tell you otherwise, you may only use your mouth for a drinking break every two hours. There will be no lunch for you today."

"Yes, Mistress." Mona suppressed a grin. Becoming Lisa's spokesperson had already made the day more interesting. She both dreaded and looked forward to finding out what other little cruelties she'd set herself up for.

Half an hour later Mona, Lisa and Catherine were at the Northern acres, a couple of spacious, barren fields. Mona had remembered correctly: Weeding all of them was more than enough work for two slaves. To make matters worse, even this early in the morning the sun was already hot and there was not a single cloud to be seen.

"Your fellow slave claimed that she treasured you greatly. That she wanted to make sure you would not be overworked."

Lisa looked slightly embarrassed, but didn't say anything. Neither did Mona. Not that she could've, even if she'd wanted to, thanks to the big red ball gag stuffed into her mouth.

"Since I am not an unreasonable person, I will accept this request and make sure you two share the work in a way that is not too demanding on you. Lisa, you will walk along the lines and point out the weeds, so Mona can easily find them and tear them out."

A warm tingle grew in Mona's stomach. This was exactly the kind of demeaning injustice she'd signed up for.

"Now get to it. If you do not get the work done, you will have a lengthy meeting with the leather strap."

After the first few minutes Mona already knew that they stood no chance. Lisa's job was a joke. You didn't need someone to point out bright green weeds on a brown field. Lisa had to know that as well, but if so, it didn't stop her from happily marching on, constantly pointing at the ground with a "Here's one" or a "There's more" while Mona crawled behind her on her hands and knees and did the actual work.

At least her body had hardened up to a point where she could do this without greater problems. The first time she'd been made to tear out weeds for hours on end with her bare hand, she'd cried from how much her blistered fingers hurt and her knees were scraped raw from shuffling over the hard earth lumps all day. Still, when asked if she needed a day off, she'd gritted her teeth and gone back to work. Her bravery had earned her the respect of the overseers and other slaves alike, which had lead to a reward in the form of a heavenly massage. That night, lying in the kennels, her fingers still twitching and throbbing, but with countless hands caressing every part of her body, she had become certain that this was the life she wanted to live.

But even with her skin having become more durable, it wasn't exactly a pleasant job tearing out these bristly stalks, especially with how fast she had to go in order to stand even a sliver of a chance. Permanently looking down with her mouth pried open by the gag also quickly led to her drooling uncontrollably. That was another thing you got used to as a slave, but it still felt dirty in a deliciously naughty way when the drool hit her freely swinging breasts.

Soon she wasn't just dripping from her mouth, though. The temperature had to be over thirty degrees already and with how quickly she had to crawl over the field, it didn't take long for her to be covered in sweat. Lisa's skin was shining as well, but she was nowhere near as drenched as Mona was. Catherine, of course, sat in the shadow under a tree and idly had an eye on them while reading one of her historical romances and sipping lemonade.

Mona had learned to love this open injustice, but that day it was especially cruel. The ball gag quickly became her worst enemy. It was almost an oxymoron: She kept drooling, meaning there had to be more than enough liquid in her body, but at the same time her mouth and tongue felt completely dry. When she looked up she saw Lisa happily carrying a water bottle she could drink from whenever she wanted to, unlike Mona who had to endure the thirst until her first two hours were over.

When the first drinking break finally came, Mona was parched. As was customary for slaves, she didn't take the gag off completely, but let it hang around her neck like a naughty necklace. It was both practical, in that the gag wouldn't get dirty from placing it somewhere else, and symbolic, in that it was hard to forget about the gag while it rested against your throat. That was, unless you had other, more urgent things preoccupying your mind. The moment Mona took the gag out, she grabbed a bottle of water and downed it in one go. She didn't care that her belly complained against this mistreatment. If she didn't get the liquid, she wasn't going to survive the next two hours.

"You know, I'm sorry that because you me, you..." Lisa began, but Mona interrupted her.

"Don't be. It was my own decision. And honestly..." She showed Lisa a warm smile. "I'd do it all over again."

Lisa bit her lip. "You would?"

"Sure. I love myself a good challenge. Also, you're cute. You deserve it."

Their little moment was crudely shattered by an angry Catherine. "Did I not tell you that you are only allowed to use your mouth for drinking? You will give me twenty push-ups, right now!"

"Yes, Mistress," Mona and Lisa said in unison and dropped to the ground.

"Not you, Lisa. You have done nothing wrong."

Lisa looked confused, most likely thinking that talking to Mona should've counted as doing something wrong, but she didn't complain about being spared the punishment and got up again.

Mona quickly went through her twenty push-ups. She'd gotten pretty strong over the past year and even if doing exercises in the hot sun was never easy, finally being able to properly breath through her mouth again made everything a lot more doable. In fact, Mona wondered why Catherine was letting her off that easily. She found out when she tried to get up.

"You consider that proper push-ups? Your technique is a disgrace to whoever trained you. Lisa, stand over there and close your legs!"

While clearly having no idea what was going on, Lisa followed the command and placed herself directly in front of Mona.

"You will do the push-ups again. And during every one of them, you will kiss both of Lisa's feet."

"Yes, Mistress."

Mona was used to humiliation, but being forced to kiss another slave's feet -- and a much newer and younger slave at that -- made even her cheeks flush. Also, her arms were slowly getting tired. Placing her lips on both feet meant that she had to stay down for much longer than she'd usually have, making each repetition at least twice as exhausting. When she was finally done, her triceps were aching and she was so bathed in sweat that she felt like she'd already lost the entire bottle of water again.

"Much more satisfactory. You will do this every drinking break in order to make sure you internalize the lesson. Now put your gag back in and get back to work!"

Mona didn't complain. That would've only been a waste of energy and she needed all of that to make it through the day. If all her energy was even enough.

The sun rose higher and soon Mona enjoyed the familiar feeling of getting cooked in her own sweat. Being an outdoor slave in summer was a special kind of misery. She cursed her decision to bother Catherine. She could've been working with a drinking bottle at her side to quench her thirst at all times, and mindlessly chatting with the other slaves while they worked. Instead it was ages until her next drinking break and that fucking gag continued to both make her drool continuously and transform her mouth into a desert.

Then again, a normal work day was nothing special and easily forgotten, while this day was going to stick in her memory for a long time to come. She already knew that she'd spend many future nights thinking back to her ordeal and either rubbing one out or getting another slave to do it for her. But before that, she first had to make it through.

The morning dragged on while Mona struggled to keep up the pace. Lisa didn't slow down in front of her and slowly Mona got doubts if her fellow slave was only pushing her to work so quickly because Catherine was watching them. She sounded far too cheerful when she could point out that Mona had missed a weed and make her crawl back to get it.

In her next break Mona downed another bottle of water. That she didn't feel her bladder at all was an indicator of how much liquid she was losing. What she did feel, though, was a growing ache all over her body that wasn't helped by the next set of twenty agonizingly slow push-ups over Lisa's dusty feet. Then, without any rest at all, the gag went back in and her grueling work continued.

The hours around midday were always the worst ones and there still wasn't even a trace of a cloud in the sky, nor a wisp of wind to be felt. There was nothing but the cruel sun, ruthlessly beating down on her burning back. Even with no risk of getting sun burns, her skin kept heating up, internalizing the heat to a point that she wouldn't even be able to cool down in the shadow. She'd just continue roasting in her own juices. Not that she was allowed the luxury of shadow anyway. As a lowly slave it was her fate to resign herself to any and all sufferings heaved upon her and not let them interfere with her work.

When Catherine declared that the first six hours were over and that it was time for the lunch break, Mona was ready to simply collapse unto the dusty ground. Usually she wasn't this exhausted even by the end of her shift, but then again, a normal day wasn't even half this intense. After another bottle of water and another set of degrading push-ups Lisa joined Catherine in the shadows to receive her lunch box. With a sinking feeling Mona remembered that she'd lost her right to lunch for that day. Still, she was happy enough to simply lie down in the shape and nap for the fifteen minutes she had.

"What do you think you are doing?"

Catherine's sweet voice sent a shiver down Mona's back. "I was..."

"I specifically told you to only take your gag out for drinking. You have already been reprimanded once and yet you appear not to have learned your lesson. What do you say in your defense?"

"I... I thought lunch break also counted." Mona took a deep breath. She knew that she'd fucked up and she wanted to prove to Catherine that this didn't make her a bad slave. "I realize my error. Please inflict any punishment on me you see fit."

Mona's heart was racing when she looked at Catherine. Her overseer let a few seconds pass, to let her stew in her anticipation, before she said "Clearly you need a reminder that for a slave acting is better than thinking. Lisa, do you have any suggestions?"

Lisa looked up from her sandwich. If she was surprised to be asked for her opinion, she didn't show it. "Hmm... we could make her do jumping jacks while we eat. That should keep her busy. And it's gonna be fun to watch."

Mona's stomach clenched. Why was Lisa doing this to her? But at the same time, why did it feel so deliciously naughty to be ordered around and abused by another slave? "Yes, Lisa. Thank you for being strict with me."

"And don't forget to put the gag back in," Lisa said while she licked a smudge of ketchup from her fingers. "As a reminder that you shouldn't use your mouth."

Normally Catherine would've harshly reprimanded any slave who showed such an attitude, but she let it slide, effectively making Lisa Mona's new Mistress. Since there was nothing she could do about it anyway, Mona shoved the gag back in and started jumping.

"Faster!" Lisa commanded between bites. "And move your arms wider!"

Mona groaned into her gag. Since she was one of the better endowed slaves, jumping jacks weren't her favorite exercise to begin with. They always made her breasts swing and bounce painfully enough that even a nudist like her wished for a bra. Of course that was exactly why the overseers liked to make her do them.

Mona just hoped that Lisa could appreciate the cruelty of making her exercise with the ball gag in. The shock of each jump drove the rubber deep into her already aching jaws. As a slave she was used to being gagged, but usually it happened only for the duration of a special event or a punishment. She'd never had to work for an entire day with her mouth pried open and now her jaws were even denied the fifteen minutes of relief from lunch break.

Add to that how evil Lisa's idea was even without the gag. Jumping jacks might not look like much, but they activated muscles all over the body and as a result they got exhausting fast, especially under the burning sun and if you did them with wide, deliberate movements. Which she had to, and not just because Lisa and Catherine were watching her. She owed it to her pride to always give it her all and follow commands to the very best of her abilities.

Catherine watched her suffering with the laid back routine of an experienced overseer, but Lisa's eyes were glued to Mona's shining body and her heaving breasts. It didn't distract her enough to stop eating, though. Mona's stomach grumbled while she watched Lisa chew her second sandwich with relish.

"Break time is over. Time for you to get back to work. You will need to speed up if you want to get it done."

Mona suppressed another groan. Out of the five fields, they weren't even finished with the second one. He'd already done a remarkable amount of work for one slave in half a day. It was still not fast enough, though, even if she could keep up the pace, which was unlikely. After the "break" she was all out of breath and every muscle in her body hurt.

As much as she tried to fight against it, she got slower and slower during the following hours. A thick fog of exhaustion clouded her mind. Her field of vision shrunk to just the next weed before her, and the next one, and the next. Her fingers itched painfully and it would take ages to get all the earth out from under her nails, but even that only barely even registered. It faded into the background of her aching jaw, her parched tongue, her burning back and the countless other pains and aches of her body.