tagNovels and NovellasSurrogate Farm Ch. 06

Surrogate Farm Ch. 06


Episode Six I lay Relaxing in the bath

I lay relaxing in a warm bath. My whole body felt totally satisfied. The pain on my bottom was now a hot sensation, the red stripes glowing with a sense of pride and defiance. I sat comfortably on a small half deflated rubber tube as I soaked in the bath salts and bubbles. Carol and Heidi were wonderful. They had bought me back to my stable loft, run the bath and carefully tended to my wounds. They rubbed salty water onto my bottom and all over my buttocks. It stung and I cried even more until they gently put me into the bath. It was full of blue, soapy bubbles with steam rising in the cool of the evening.

They left me in peace. I lay exhausted, content and strangely at peace looking out the loft door across the Estate to the yellow, parched, but beautiful hills and valleys which surround and seemingly protect our lives.

As I began to reflect on what had happened today I could hear Heidi and Carol in the next room. They were obviously still excited and aroused and were now happily working on each other to allay their tensions. I could hear Carol groaning, crying with anguish as Heidi licked her pussy. I could just hear the gentle slurping of two tongues, on two pussies. I could only imagine the scene as one crouched over the other. Tongues licking, pussies responding, their pace increasing, the tension, the build up, the climax. Then as last I could hear the sighs, the joy the trembles as they both collapsed into each others bodies to enjoy those precious moments after love making when the world is no longer, it is just you and another in love and as one.

My thoughts returned to the strange things that had happened and why. What was Anthony up to and why was Sarah Jane so interested in Waine who had made the fuss in the middle of her punishment and why? Surely they knew the rules just as she had. It was her affair; no one else had the right to interfere. It was her decision. She had made it and no one else. She was independent and didn't like the idea of someone else interfering with her life even if their intentions may have been honourable.

Suddenly the door flung open and in walked Jenni the cook. She was a dear. Jenni had been born on the Estate and had lived and worked here all her life. She was proudly Aboriginal. Her family had lived on this land for thousands of years before the white invasion. She was directly descended from the last tribal chief, Charlie, who had bravely fought the white settlers as their relentless quest for grazing land began to subsume their ancient lands. Anthony's great grandfather had finally killed and subsequently beheaded Charlie. His head was sent to the British museum and remained there for well over a century before Jenni’s tribal elders finally bought it home for a final tribal ceremony and was finally put to rest. His spirit of defiance though ran deeply in Jenni’s soul. She will never give up her fight for justice for her people. But the fact remained that Anthony and others like him still had all the power and white man's wealth necessary to keep the land. Her family and tribe had managed to have some land returned, a few acres of scrub near the river. It was home to many spirits whose mortal life ended by the brutal betrayal and cruelty of the white men. Jenni though was a survivor. She hated Anthony and his kind not only because of their ancient violence but also their persistent and uncompromising beliefs of white supremacy and for the pain his family had inflicted on her.

Her husband Jack had left her pregnant before leaving for the War. He was killed by a land mine. Jenni never spoke of him again but we would often see her sitting alone in the evenings with his picture in her hand. No one ever disturbed her solitude. When you met her though the less observant person would scarcely know that such a troubled heart lay behind that cheery, happy face. Jenni swept in with a tray of food in her hands. 'How are you feeling luv?' she said as she used around looking for a small table for the tray. 'I must say you behaved very well. The best I've seen for years. You held you head up high and no one got the better of you. I couldn't have done it so well.'

'Have you ever been punished Jenni?'

'Of course my dear. I was quite a looker in my time you know and was always in trouble. In those days they used the stocks all the time and we didn't have no choice I can tell you. Not like nowadays when everyone is too scared of being sued or up for workplace harassment. Harassment in deed. If you do the wrong thing you take the consequences that's what I say.'

By now the other two girls had come into the room and slopped into the bath. It was actually an old, very large horse trough so there was plenty of room. 'Tell us about it Jenni. What did they do to you?' Jenni looked a bit taken aback but Heidi touched her hand and said 'We would love to hear, we all love you Jenni and will never tell. It will be between us.'

We all settled back in the bath to listen to Jenni. As she sat cross-legged on a bale of hay I noticed two of her toes were crossed. Obviously something which had come from birth. She saw me looking and just said, ‘My toes, come from my mother, and her mother, dear.’ This dear lady we had all taken for granted as she cooked for us all, day in day out year after year. We had taken her for granted and with it her life. I could sense that her story was one of little joy but one of hardship, loneliness and sadness. We could see it in her eyes as she paused before letting out a long breath and a sigh as she commenced her story. At first her words were barely audible. We could only just hear her as her whispers faulted and her voice croaked with pain. What was she about to tell us? I thought I had just about had enough for one day. As she started she looked directly at me. I began to realize she was telling her story for a reason, an important reason known only to her and I. She would tell it in such a way that the others in the room would only listen to the word while I had to listen much more closely for the hidden, deeper messages in her tale. Her tale of the past was, I realized, the key to present.

I was pretty when I was young. I had long brown hair, way hips and legs, which could run like the wind. I was born in a cottage near Surrogate Farm and lived very happily as a child spending most of my time playing in the fields and grounds o the Estate. My first sexual experience came when I was a young girl. Nothing happened to me but one day I discovered a small window hidden under the shrubbery well away from the big house. I was with Billy my only girl cousin and together we managed to slide into the crack below the window to find ourselves in a tunnel. It was dark but pitted with a few light spots coming in from the occasional air funnel. We crept along the passage. It seemed to go on forever and ever until suddenly we heard noises. Billy wanted to go back. She held my hand so tightly I started to get pins and needles. We hardly dared to breathe until we came to a small landing looking down into what appeared to be dungeon. I think we must have been just below the chapel and must have been a place for priests and nuns to find solitude. It had a small cross and alter at one end with large metal rings along the other walls. I think it is what teachers would call a multi purpose room. It clearly had many other uses than prayer alone!

It was however well lit and surprisingly warm. We lay there hardly daring to breathe, waiting and watching. As our eyes became accustom to the dimness of the candlelight we became aware of two figures sitting in large easy chairs below. It was by now quite late and they had obviously just finished a lavish looking supper laid out on an old, refectory table and were now enjoying their cigars and brandy. It took us a little longer to realize that both the figures were young men and wore no clothes except a bow tie! We watched, they idly chatted about politics and life on the Estate until one of the lads stood up and pulled the servants bell at the side of the fireplace. The light of the blazing fire silhouetted his body. Then I realized who he was. It was Master Anthony and the other was his school chum Samuel Slythers. A servant entered the room with more glasses of brandy. He too wore no cloths except a butler's jacket. I knew him too. He was Jeremy a young stable hand and clearly enjoying his new role! Replacing the glasses he stood facing the young Anthony in front of the fire. We were too far away to hear what was being said but then without warning the Anthony put his hand out and began to touch the Butler's penis. Though they had only recently grown into manhood they were still young, but beautiful in statue. Billy held my hand even tighter. We were frozen with fear and anticipation. Neither of us had ever seen a naked boy who had such big penis' before let alone one touching another. Immediately Anthony's member began to stir, it started to rise like a serpent's neck. The story of Adam and Eve suddenly began to take on a whole new meaning. Jeremy's penis also began to get bigger, and bigger. Anthony played, pulled, tickled Jeremy’s cock and then to our amazement, and in trepidation he pulled it closer to his mouth. Opening it his tongue began to lick along the base of the shaft in front on him. His mouth then took it fully in until it seemed to be swallowed deep into his throat. Jeremy began to pump, in and out of Anthony’s mouth until suddenly he began to spasm, his face grimaced with tension and sweat before a thick cream started to ooze from Anthony’s lips. He let go and we could see both penises against the fire glow. Our eyes looked up and there on the wall above us were two enormous shadows of the men's phalluses. Billy squealed, the boys looked up, we ran, and ran until we came to our escape window. Looking out the coast was clear, so we ducked, ran some more and hid for hours until we felt safe enough to go home. Little did we know what would be in store for us. Not then but we knew it would come. We also knew the boys would wait, and make us wait, knowing that we knew that they knew we were there. Our secrets were their secrets, binding us inextricably together for ever. We were to be pursued, not knowing when it would happen but the time would come and they would seek their revenge.

That night in bed I lay thinking only of those images, my dreams, ..

Now we were trapped. Trapped by desire to find out more, satisfy our most primitive instincts but at the same time terrified by the knowledge that they would seek us out and envelop us into their web of depravity and sinful betrayal of our innocence. We kept returning to our secret place above the room. That room, which revealed to us the most ardent of human vices and virtues. Many times it would be empty. Clean, lit by a solitary candle on the alter, other times we would see remarkable human depravity or joyous love. Then we would come and find a priest in solitary prayer

Their excitement too intensified not knowing whether their intimacies were truly intimate or being watched by two pairs of eyes from the darkness. They knew we were watching. We would wait and see the boys retrieving the old iron key from the vestry porch and sneak through the chapel door. Billy and would duck along to our little entrance and creep along the tunnel until we found our ledge over looking the deep and dark room below.

Then one day it happened. We had just settled back into our resting place eagerly looking forward to the show below. Anthony and Samuel were in the room. Dressed in their ceremonial kilts they stood in front of each other and soon we could see the distinctive bulge of Anthony's penis pushing and straining under the cloth to escape, to be free to be handled, fondled and relieved. His friend soon came to its rescue, moving his hand forward he slipped his fingers through the open pleat at the side. I could feel the excitement in my tummy, the anticipation of what would happen next. Was it excitement or desire? Did I really want to be the one holding, playing with that thing? I could only just see but imagined each night in my bed. Suddenly, without any warning I felt a powerful, rough hand grip the back of my neck. I was being pulled up, dragged by the scruff of my neck back along the tunnel so fast I could hardly stay on my feet. Somehow Billy had escaped. She was always quicker than me when it really counted.

I was pushed against the wall, held with my face being crushed into the cold sandstone while my captor tied my hands and covered my eyes with a cloth. Strangely it smelt of lavender. Funny the things you remember.

Soon our walk, our semi run started again. Along the tunnel, then down stairs, more sand stone floor. Cold, damp, musty and finally I heard a door open and being pushed through into warmth. I knew where I would be. In the room I had observed so many times. I had been the seeker, the observer. Now I had a distinct feeling that I was about to become a participant. Silence. I was being observed, stared at, devoured by my unseen captors All I could hear was the cradle of the fire, the distant wind outside and my own heart pounding from within.

'So nice of you to join us. A little black girl, Jenni I believe. And perhaps not so little now that I have met you in person so to speak' Anthony's silverton, almost slimy voice broke the silence. It was calm, evil in its intent and icy cold. I was scared. I mean really scared and he knew it. 'Now there's no need to be scared, is there lads. That is of course if you do exactly what we want you to do.'

I could feel him walking around my frozen body. His touch on my cheek was ever so light I could hardly feel it. It was just enough to let me know he had total power over me. He could do anything he wanted. I couldn't complain because I was the one who had been spying. What could I say in my defense. "Well I just happened to be watching Anthony and his mate playing with each other"

No it was here and it was my doing. I would just have to work out how best to survive what ever they had in store for me. I was alone with three, highly charged boys who could use me as there plaything and thee wasn't a damn thing I could do about it.

I was blindfolded, my hands tied in front of me and my insides felt like a beehive.

Perhaps we should see more of you my dear. After all you have had the pleasure of observing us in all our glory.

'String her up.' His voice was a command. It was to be obeyed. Even I knew would have obeyed had I had any choice in the matter. Two pairs of hands took me by each of my arms and led me further into the room. I could hear some strange sounds coming from the wall and then I felt it. Leather straps being bound around my arms with what appeared to be some sort of hook attached. Suddenly I my arms lurched upward, at first a few inches, then more as each time I felt my arms reaching further and further toward the ceiling.

I couldn’t believe what was happening to me. Now I was almost hanging. My arms straight above me, my toes just touching the ground.

I didn’t have to wait for long for the boys to decide what do to me next. 'Strip her came the order.'

First they tired to take off my shoes. I kicked and tried to scream but they were too strong. One held my leg like a horse being shoed and torn off one shoe and then the other. My pantyhose were next. This meant fingers reaching into private, sacred places. They dallied for a few seconds and deliberately rubbed along my crack. The other found his way to my other hole and managed to slip his finger in just a fraction, just enough to say 'Your mine now and don't forget it you little black whore.'

My dress undid at the back. Someone carefully and slowly undid one button at a time until almost all my back was free. The gentleness was as knew it may be only a fleeting gesture. Without warning my dress was ripped from my body, its material tearing at the seams, leaving me with only my bra as protection. I felt a flick and it was off.

I was naked. I was strung up like a piece of meat and being eyed by primitive, animal eyes driven by vengeance and lust. Not a good combination when you thing about it, especially if you were in my position.

'Now what do think happens to black girls who spy on others?' 'Well answer me.' His voice was menacing, teasing and cruel. He demanded an answer. 'I don't know' 'Well we had better show you.' Samuel, fetch me the No 6 please.

With that I could hear a cane being whisked through the air and being slapped onto what I thought may be someone's hand.

He was close now, very close, stalking me, making me suffer through the pain of knowing but not believing what was about to happen.

He moved away. I felt the first stroke on my buttocks. It stung, but only until the next one and the next. He kept hitting me until my whole body was erupting in pain. He stopped and was clearly pleased with his handy work. My tears were streaming down my face making the blindfold moist and strangely soothing.

What will we do to her now?

‘I think she needs to be well and truly fucked’ came one of the other voices. ‘Perhaps in her bum so she knows what’s good for her’. They were dangerous words. The tension was in the air. If Anthony let this happen it would be more than just punishment, would be rape.

I could hear him thinking, knowing he couldn't go too far. He was after all the heir to his father’s lands and fortune and had no plans to ruin his future for some silly black wench he had found snooping on he and his friends.

On the other hand he had to make this girl keep quiet. Knowing his secret was dangerous to his future and his plans.

Then something happened. The door was thrown open and I could hear shouts, a fight going on and then something hard hit the ground.

'My my it seems we have a visitor'

'Young jack it would seem has come to your rescue.' How noble, but very, very foolish. His gallant efforts were no match against my two sturdy lads.'

Jack, oh my God. Jack was little older than me. I had had a crush on him ever since I could remember. He was strong, beautiful and black. We had rarely spoken to each other mainly because he was ever so shy and I usually made a complete fool of myself whenever we did meet. Once found ourselves very close at a dance. My partner was being sick out the back of the hall and we happened to pass each other in a very narrow passage way. We met, our eyes locked together. Our bodies began to respond in that uncanny sort of way, which needs no words, just the need to let go and allow instinct to take over.

Our lips flirted, only for a few seconds before other revelers broke our trance and my smelling, drunken partner bought me back to reality.

Here he was. Billy must have told him what was happening. But he too was helpless before my captors. 'I think we have our answer to our little problem.' 'Jack ere can watch his little black girl being fucked.' What do you think of that idea lads?' Grunts of approval came from behind me. 'Well girl what do you think of being fucked in front of your black boy. Its only right and proper that natives should learn to fuck from their superiors. Don’t you agree?' 'It will be just like seeing animals mating in the paddocks.'

'No, no.'

I was shouting, crying. I didn't want it to be like this. I wanted to be with Jack more than anyone but not like this.

'Well jack what do you say to the idea. I'm sure you would like to have bit of black cunt to play with especially after we have screwed her silly.'

'She don't want it, I ain't doin it.'


Samual, now the Very Reverend Samual, knew what to do. He struck me again with the cane. Just once but now it was cutting across my other wounds and the pain was excruciating.

'Now its like this. We keep punishing her for being a bad girl until you let us fuck her. Its as simple as that.'

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