Town and Country Ch. 15

Anne was asleep in her stall one morning when she was awakened by a kick to her rear. She looked up to see Lise preparing to deliver another one with Helene at her side, and knelt in the hay at their feet.

Helene fed her and took the two girls outside to the yard. The rusty pickup with its wire cage awaited them; there was field work to be done. Lise crawled in first and knelt on the cardboard, and Anne squeezed in back. She kissed Lise's thighs to distract herself from the hard ridged floor. Helene started the engine and they drove off.

"Higher," said Lise. Obediently Anne moved upward and began kissing her buttocks.

Once at the field, Anne knelt in the road and had the pleasure of watching Lise back slowly out of the cage.

There was no one at the tool shed today; it would just be the three of them. And there was no plow; instead, an old drag harrow stood at the edge of the field. It looked hard to pull, and Anne wondered at the single harness.

Helene explained. She would be guiding the harrow while Anne pulled it and Lise wielded the whip, it was what each of them needed. Reaching into the shed she handed a long bullwhip to Lise and a denim jacket against the cold morning; Anne would keep warm with exercise. And whippings.

She fastened Anne into the harness and Lise cracked the whip overhead, a little tentatively. Anne struggled in the traces and they began to move. The ground was hard and rough beneath her feet; she paused to skirt a large rock and felt the whip on her rear. "Harder," said Helene and Lise applied it more forcefully. Then once more on her own initiative, harder still. Helene voiced her approval.

Helene encouraged Lise to use it whenever Anne faltered or slowed, and soon she was swift to apply it. Anne learned to proceed with all her strength, and when she fell to rise again quickly and continue as strokes from the lash rained down on her.

By midday they had done more than Anne thought possible. They returned to the shed, and Helene let Lise feed Anne from her hand. Lise was plainly growing into her new role. Anne bent to the water trough and Lise petted her as she drank, her touch lingering at traces of the whip on Anne's thighs.

By the end of the short winter day, Anne had harrowed the entire field and felt a sense of accomplishment. She returned to the farm alone in the cage; Lise rode up front next to Helene. That was good; Anne was becoming a little afraid of the girl who left all those marks on her today.

And it gave Helene and Lise the opportunity to watch her back out of the cage this time. Lise made a joke that Anne did not catch and Helene laughed. That was good; she lived to please.

Outside the barn Helene told Lise to hang Anne up and rinse the dirt off her. Lise had returned the denim jacket and was now as naked as Anne, but cleaner. She turned the hose on. Anne shivered under the stream of frigid water until she was done. The sun was low in the sky; its horizontal rays warmed her a little.

Hector and Amelie came out and inspected her. Helene said Lise showed promise and did very well today, then led Anne (mostly dry now) back to her stall and chained her in place after pouring out a dish of feed.

A half hour or so later, she returned with Lise. She leashed Anne and led her to the birthing shed.

Anne did not need to be told; she ran to the table and lay down on it with her legs open. Lise put a wooden block beneath her chin to keep her head up.

Helene showed Lise how to operate the unit. The girl oiled the cylinder and started the motor; Anne recognized its familiar hum and spread herself wider as Lise slid it into her rear.

Helene returned to the house but Lise remained with Anne all night, catching naps on the floor with a timer set to wake her once an hour.

Each time she dialed the unit up a degree. By the third hour it was past the state Hector left her in and Anne was lost in a world of her own.

Images assailed her. She was a vessel, expanded to infinite size; she held the world; multitudes in her, ever growing, she would accommodate them all.

She was a balloon; in a moment she would burst and cover the world to usher in a new age of love.

Lise pushed the device a bit deeper, stroked her rear and spoke words of encouragement to her, but Anne made no response except for an animal-like grunt and a slight tremor of her thighs.

Helene came for her in the morning shortly after dawn. Anne was unable to stand by then, so Lise released her bracelets and she crawled back to the barn on her hands and knees.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

In the afternoon Helene suspended her by her wrists from a hook in the wooden wall. She went back in the house and returned with Lise who held a small artist's paintbrush and a jar of liquid, clear but of a deep red color.

At one time India's "ghost pepper" was considered the hottest chili in existence. Cross-breeding had since produced more potent varieties, but its oil remained the strongest.

She set the jar on a shelf and opened it. Carefully she dipped the brush in and approached Anne, who awaited her with a mixture of fear and desire.

She painted around one of Anne's nipples - at once the surface of her breasts began to grow warm - then dipped the brush again and painted the other.

Anne, her mind still disordered, imagined them reaching out to Lise.

She was already gasping from the heat when Lise dipped the brush a third time and did the sensitive tips of both.

She turned away and for a moment Anne thought she was done.

But setting the brush on the shelf she knelt before Anne and parted her fleece, exposing the already wet lips beneath it.

No, thought Anne, she wouldn't, it would be unbearable. The terror of her exposure to lightning at Mr. Schuyler's townhouse returned and seized her.

Lise held her hands up to Anne, who kissed them. "Thank me" said Lise and Anne obeyed. This would be a lesson she would not forget.

Helene and a hired man held her feet firmly apart, spreading and immobilizing her as Lise dipped the brush into the jar a fourth time. Anne watched with horrified fascination as she knelt to her work.

Spreading the lips with one hand, she raised the brush slowly and deposited a single drop of oil on the little nub of pink flesh within.

The effect this time was immediate. A flame of unimaginable intensity shot upwards into her belly and throughout her whole body.

Helpless she succumbed to the sensation as it diffused into every limb. Her mouth fell open and her head swung back and forth.

More fantasies; she was a candle, a torch sent by her masters to light the darkness of the world. When she was fully consumed they would sow her ashes in the field to bring forth a season of plenty.

The man left, and the two women stood to watch the effect on their raving subject for a minute.

Helene congratulated Lise on her work and they returned to the house.

After an hour or so Anne opened her eyes. The heat had receded to its sources; her breasts and belly glowed with a quiet force now that was rather pleasurable. Again she thanked Lise, quietly this time and with her whole heart.

That night, warned by Helene not to hurt themselves, the men used only her mouth and rear. Several of them commented on how gentle she had become.