Slave Farm

CHAPTER THREE

Richard’s Ordeal

After i disembarked the jet at Ft. Lauderdale International Airport and exited the security area, i found my driver holding a makeshift sign with my name scrawled on it. As instructed, I showed him my Illinois driver’s license, which confirmed my identity, richard travis, and with just a nod of his head he lead me out of the terminal and across to the parking garage. he was a slight, trim man, this driver, and i noticed inside his collar his neck was hobbled by a locked, polished steel ring.

“my name is severin, sir” he reported as he placed my bag into the trunk of the towncar limo. “i shall drive you to Goddess Natasha’s beach residence and then to the Farm. Please make yourself comfortable in the rear of the car, sir. It is only a short ride to Her Majesty’s residence.”

“Are you a salaried employee?” i asked.

“Oh no, sir, i am privileged to be a life slave to the Goddess.”

“A life slave?” i queried, “Does that account for the steel collar around your neck, and why do you keep calling me sir?”

“i am Goddess Natasha’s slave and property for life. i have committed myself to Her service for the rest of my life. As a reward, i am privileged to wear Mistress’s collar. It is a constant reminder of my status. i call all male visitors and temporary slaves sir because i am the lowliest and most humble of all slaves at all times in Her Majesty’s service.”

The towncar headed north from the airport on Federal Highway and then east across the causeway to the ocean. Driving north again along the edge of the beautiful public beach, we turned into the parking garage of a magnificent four towered condo complex.

Riding up the elevator to the 24th floor, severin instructed me on protocol. “you will assume the submission position at all times when in the presence  of a Female,” he said. “That is, on your knees, your face pressed against the floor, whether tile or carpet, or even dirt as at the Farm, both arms stretched forward, palms down, so the Superior may step upon your hands if She chooses, or press the sole of Her magnificent boot upon the back of your neck. i was so privileged recently to feel the weight of Goddess Natasha’s sharp heel on the back of my neck. i can only wait and long for Her to so reward me again someday soon, i hope.”

severin’s voice was soft with reverence, almost weeping with desire. i had never met such a humbled man. i wondered if that same fate awaited me. i knew i was dangerously enthralled by Goddess Natasha, having seen her photos and having spoken with Her several times by phone. She was an extraordinarily beautiful and dominating Woman. She had that rare quality of natural dominance that you find only in an authentically Superior Female.

i had been searching all my life for genuine Female Authority, and when i saw Her and spoke with Her i knew my search was ended. So, i agreed to a week’s enslavement at the Farm at a very healthy financial cost. But, i reasoned, i was away from Chicago’s bitterly cold lake winds and in the warm gentle sea breeze of south Florida in November, and that was a plus. Additionally, i was thrilled with anticipation of my coming experience. Goddess Natasha had practically mesmerized me during our phone conversations, and i was more than prepared to submit to Her. No, i was breathlessly eager to submit.

we alighted from the elevator into the expansive living room of a gorgeously appointed  apartment. i could see across the room and past an outside balcony to the far horizon where the sea met the sky on this brilliant morning. severin removed his shoes before stepping on the thick carpet, and i followed his lead. At that instant, a beautiful, blond haired Woman appeared from across the room. severin fell to his knees and assumed the slave’s position of submission. Again i mimicked his actions.

“Good morning,” Her voice sang. “I am Mistress Jenny, Goddess Natasha’s personal assistant. You are richard, are you not?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” i replied.

“Very good, richard. you and I will consummate the necessary business transactions before you are presented to Goddess. “Now, kneel up, slave richard,” She commanded. “That’s right, very good. Kneel up is Our command for you to lift your head and torso and kneel back upon your heels. Remember that command. Submission means face in the ground. Kneel up means back straight, head up, always kneeling. And whenever a Superior speaks to you, you will reply with Yes, Mistress. Are you clear about that, slave richard?”

“Yes, Mistress,” i answered.

“Good beginning, slave. Now, you have a cashier’s check for Me and then you will sign the necessary legal documents that will affirm your consensual servitude for the next week and absolve us of any physical or mental pain you will certainly experience,” She giggled wickedly. Saying that, Mistress Jenny placed a polished, steel collar around my neck and locked it into place. Identical to severin’s collar, mine also had three metal rings attached, which were, i would quickly learn, convenient to the fastening of chains or other attachments.

“There! You now belong to Goddess Natasha and to all Supreme Females.” She then attached a leash to the front ring of my collar and tugged at it to signal me to crawl across the carpet behind Her. “On hands and knees, slave, crawl and follow.” i did as commanded while noticing obliquely that severin had not moved from the submission position. his face still buried in the thick fibers of the carpet.

Mistress Jenny lead me to crawl out onto the stone hard tile of the wrap around balcony. “Look at the view, slave. Remember the freedom of the sea and sky. It will be your last glimpse of the free world for the next seven days.”

my eyes sucked in the magnificent view. Then there were papers to sign and a cashier’s check to relinquish, and the business was done. i had consigned myself to a week of toil and slavery at the whim of Goddess Natasha or any other Superior Female who chose to use me. i had given up all human rights and was now, temporarily at least, naught but a piece of property to any Superior, with the option to extend if i so chose at the end of the week.

Mistress Jenny tugged my leash and lead me to crawl across the cruel tiles of the patio and through an open bedroom doorway, my eyes riveted to Her heels, as instructed.

“So, this is our new slave trainee for the week, is it?” It was the voice i had heard in our few phone conversations. “Crawl to My feet, slave,” Goddess commanded.

“Yes, Mistress.” my cock was painfully hard.

Goddess wore a pair of strapped sandals with stiletto heels. “you may kiss My Imperial toes, slave.”

“Yes, Mistress.” Gratefully, i placed long lingering, reverent kisses upon Goddess Natasha’s beautiful perfect toes. i inhaled the lovely fragrance of Her feet and succumbed to a dizzying submission. i was hooked. i desired nothing more but to serve Her Majesty, to become Her total slave.

“While you continue the privilege of kissing My toes, slave richard, you will raise your arms above your head.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Goddess Natasha carefully locked a steel cuff to each of my wrists, which surprised me because severin’s wrists were free of bindings. Like the neck collar, the wrist shackles were heavy, polished steel and adorned with several attachment rings.

“There, now you are My pretty, precious slave, richard. I hope you will profit from the training you are about to receive.” Goddess stroked my hair gently as i continued to gratefully kiss Her toes. my erection was so spastic at that moment, i feared i would ejaculate on the lush, white carpet. “severin,” Goddess called, “take My new little pet to the Farm.”

“As You wish, Mistress.”

And so ended my first real life encounter and submission with Goddess Natasha and Mistress Jenny. As we descended in the elevator and crossed the lobby toward the garage several residents took note of the steel colors and wrist shackles, but none remarked upon them, apparently haven seen the strange sight before.

“That is some beautiful apartment,” i observed to severin.

“Yes,” he said, “it was once mine. I gave Goddess a quit claim deed for it as part of my commitment to Her Authority.”

I was stunned into silence for a moment. Then, “And the Farm as well?”

“Yes, that too,” he replied proudly.

“But, how could you?” i asked incredulously. “How could you give up so much material wealth?”

“What do i need of material wealth? Being Her’s, i am in Nirvana. i have complete inner peace with the knowledge that i am in my proper place in life, serving my proper role as a servant to Female Authority. i am content,” he smiled as we climbed into the car.

The drive westward took us along a ribbon of modern six lane highway before we turned south on old Route 29, the two-lane long spine of the Florida peninsula that traveled the length of the state’s colorful history. We rode past open prairies of tall grass wetlands interrupted occasionally by clusters of palmetto brush and Eucalyptus trees and then westward again along a dry, dirt road that rose up onto high ground.

High ground in Florida is the equivalent of standing on a chair to look across to the western coast of the peninsula. A remote controller in servein’s hand unlocked and opened a steel gate that impeded the driveway. The buildings of the Farm were barely visible through the thicket of trees.

The car stopped at a small shack and severin timidly announced, “i must ask you to join me in removing all your clothing and leaving it in the shack. From this point on all slaves are naked at all times except for their collars. It is required, sir.”

Two very bashful, naked slaves, the polished steel collars weighing heavily upon our necks, we walked the dusty road and left the world of freedom behind us. For severin it was a familiar walk home. For me however, great trepidation troubled the mind about the adventure that lie ahead for me, but my resolve was bolstered by the weight of the collar around my neck, the shackles on my wrists, and the delicious taste of Goddess’s perfect toes that i imagined lingered on my lips.

The afternoon Florida sun can be daunting even in November, and thirst came quickly. we walked for about a quarter mile before the three buildings of the Farm came into full  view. The two-storied house was rare for south Florida but it was a typical “cracker” house with a wrap around, shaded porch built to allay the heat of Florida summers. A stable stood between the main house and a long low barracks i guessed was the slaves’ quarters.

As we arrived at the barracks, a petite woman emerged and pointed Her riding crop at us. She was dressed in a white blouse over tan riding breeches and riding boots. Tanned and beautiful with long blond hair, She commanded us in a soft voice: “Submission.” Quickly, severin and i fell to our knees, placed our faces into the dirt, and stretched our arms to that magnificent vision of Female Authority. She strolled around us in a circle and then kicked severin in the butt. “Go to your chores, slave.” he rose to his feet and rapidly strolled toward the barn leaving me kneeling naked and vulnerable before the vision.

“I am Wardress Dana,” she informed Me. “While you are here I will be your keeper along with Wardress Ebony, who will address you shortly. You will respond to us as you would to any other Female at this Farm – with quick obedience and deepest respect. I hope that is clear.” She turned on the heel of Her leather riding boot before I could answer and went up the steps to the barracks. “you may rise and follow Me,” She ordered over Her shoulder. My cock was thick and throbbing once again.

As i followed Her i recalled how Venus spoke in Sacher-Masoch’s Venus in Furs:

"Don't you know me yet? Yes, I am cruel—since you take so much delight in that word-and am I not entitled to be so? Man is the one who desires, woman the one who is desired. This is woman's entire but decisive advantage. Through his passion nature has given man into woman's hands, and the woman who does not know how to make him her subject, her slave, her toy, and how to betray him with a smile in the end is not wise."

We entered the barracks through a narrow hall sided by two closed rooms. Further in the aisle opened wide and the bare slaves’ quarter was lined with five sleeping cots on each side. A chain and ankle shackle hung from the metal rail at the foot of each bed. Several vertical support columns stood like soldiers down the center of the single aisle. Each post was decorated with a variety of chains and shackles.

Wardress Dana pointed Her riding crop to the first post. “Belly up to the post, slave.” When i pressed against the rough wood, the Wardress attached my wrists cuffs to the sides of my collar and then my ankles to a spreader bar. She attached my collar to a ring on the post, pulling my face against the wood.  So, my neck was tethered to the post, my wrists were shackled to my collar, and my ankles spread apart by the steel bar. my swollen cock rubbed against the wood and despite my awkward circumstance, or maybe because of it, i was about to succumb to the temptation to hump the post when i felt the painful sting of Her crop across my dick.

Wardress Ebony introduced herself to me at that moment. She appeared within my line of sight. W. Ebony was a strikingly beautiful black Woman. Taller than W. Dana and slightly more regal in Her bearing, a Nubian Queen with high cheek bones, pitch black hair in a long pony tail, and a slight smile on Her red lips. She wore the same equestrian uniform as W. Dana, but Her musculature seemed a bit more defined beneath Her smooth skin, what little i sensed of it. Both Wardresses were extraordinarily beautiful and exquisitely contrasting in Their ebony and ivory appearance. i grew dizzy and overwhelmed by their confident, cruel aura which surrounded me and shut me off from any other reality.

“you are at the Farm because you requested to be trained as a slave,” W. Ebony observed as She casually ran Her hands over my shoulders and chest, examining a new property. “In addition to total obedience you will learn respect for Women. you are never to look into the eyes of a Superior,” She admonished me. “Such action is very disrespectful and not permitted. It is taken as a first class offense to Female Supremacy.  Lower your eyes.”

“Yes, Mistress,” i replied breathlessly and somewhat shocked at my cruel station.

W. Ebony strode to my rear and out of my line of sight. “So far,” She intoned, “you have been a good boy. But that doesn’t matter. Even a good and obedient slave does not escape punishment, because you are an inferior species and any Superior has the right to punish you at Her whim. This will be your first lesson in arbitrary punishment.”  So saying, W. Ebony slapped my naked ass with Her riding crop and i jumped at the sharp sound. W. Dana held a thin cane within my line of sight and then rubbed it across my nipples as W. Ebony systematically tattooed my ass into a deep, hot crimson with Her riding crop.

“Kiss the cane, slave” W. Dana commanded, “and beg it to return your kiss.”

“Please, dear cane, return my kiss,” i cried as an especially hard stroke landed on my ass cheek from the riding crop in W. Ebony’s strong hand.

When my ass was burning red, W. Dana stepped behind me and laid on with the cane. That petite, darling, beautiful Woman took no heed of the fact that i was a novice at receiving corporal discipline. She flailed away at my buttocks and the back of my thighs with brutal and merciless abandon.

The pain was excruciating as each stripe was burned into my helpless flesh. The number of strokes was uncountable. While I cried real tears and loudly begged for mercy, the two Wardresses had a great merriment at my torment.

Surprising to me, my rogue penis grew hard and thick against the post which held me prisoner. The more She slashed me the more i grew to love the lady with the cane. I was unable to contain my semen. It erupted in a hot stream against the post and onto the floor. I was astonished that so much pleasure could come from such excruciating agony.

“Oh, you piggy!” Wardress Ebony exclaimed in delight. “you will surely have to lick up every drop of your dick juice.” The Wardresses laughed at me but allowed me respite while warning i was in for a long night of initiation to my slave life.

And so i was left with my neck collar attached to the post, my wrists attached to my collar, my legs spread wide, my buttocks on fire from the awful beating they had endured, my cock limp and moist, tears in my eyes, and my mind dazed, humbled and bewildered, to contemplate the week ahead and my new life. The words of the Venus haunted my thoughts through the haze of the lingering, burning pain:  “Through his passion nature has given man into woman's hands.”