Aurelie's Mexican Vacations

Chapter 15: Ploughing the fields

"This afternoon you are going to help me plough the fields. The ox deserves a day off and you will take its place" Pablo said as she was marched back to the stables,

There he made her lay face-down on the beaten-earth floor. He locked her feet into a set of stocks that held them totally immobile. Aurelie heard him hammering something on an anvil. While Aurelie had been "resting", he had deformed a pair of  horseshoes into a shape that would fit Aurelie's feet almost perfectly. Now, with the girl at hand he was making the last adjustments.

With a pair of pincers he was holding the left foot horseshoe over the brazier until it was red hot, and then hammered it into a slightly different shape. The day before, he had chosen the larger size of horseshoes and had reshaped it into a narrow U with parallel sides. The curve of the U was designed to fit perfectly to the ball of her foot. He applied the red hot metal against her immobilised sole, aligning it carefully. There was horrible sizzling sound, soon covered by Aurelie's inhuman howl of agony. A white puff of smoke whirled above her feet and a foul smell of charred flesh filled the air. She was contorting her body frantically on the dusty floor, curling and banging her head against the ground, violently yanking on her legs. But the stocks were heavy and solidly fixed into the ground and her feet did not move by a hair. Pablo waited until the metal had settled itself into the branding depression and then began to drive screws through the six holes that were drilled in the front curve of the horseshoe and then into and among the screeching girl's metatarsal bones. Once the last screws was in, the piece of metal was fitting snugly against Aurelie balls of feet, leaving her toes free in front of it.

When he had narrowed the horseshoe, Pablo had made it quite longer than it originally was, but still it was only reaching as far as the two thirds of her foot, leaving her heel unprotected. Of course, the industrious Mexican had a plan for that. He screwed two long, thick, sturdy screws through the ends of the horseshoe, pointing upward. Then he pulled, arched and twisted the foot until its heel was perfectly aligned with the back of the horseshoe, and then he quickly drew the two screws into her flesh and then right into her calcaneus bone. Again Aurelie writhed and twisted her body like a snake, screeching to the point of making her voice hoarse. Once he was done, Aurelie's left foot was hopelessly fixed into an arch that made it look as if she was walking on some eight-centimetre high-heeled strapless sandal.

While she was still moaning and crying from the agony throbbing in her left foot, curling her toes helplessly, Pablo went back to work on the right foot horseshoe. Soon after, both Aurelie's feet were symmetrically fitted with the extreme, high-heeled horseshoes. Pablo unlocked the stocks, allowing her to lift her legs. She could feel the weight of the two contraptions and how they kept her feet cruelly and immovably arched. Pablo took a couple of steps backwards to admire his work.

"Perfect! That should protect your feet against the pain of walking the field back and forth," he observed. Then, with lashing a bull-whip on the floor next to his victim's head, he barked, "Now, stand up! It's time to go to work!"

Aurelie curled into a ball on the floor, her feet and lower legs throbbing with agony. She could not imagine herself putting her weight on her tortured feet. However, after having felt the bite of the whip a few times on her back, she rolled on her knees and then began to stand up. As she put her weight on her right foot, she screamed from the pain as the screws ground into her very bones. The intense agony propagated up her calves and thighs, causing inhuman woe. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She was sure now that her feet would be crippled for the remaining of her life. She pushed on her foot and stood up, quickly resting her weight on her two arched feet.

He placed a pair of nipple weights, like the ones he had used earlier. Then she was then marched to the fields. With each step she had to lift the weight of the horseshoes while resting on her opposite foot. The screws kept torturing her bones and muscles with transfixing agony. They walked about one kilometre before reaching the empty field. There was a plough waiting in a corner. She was led to it. The steel mould board was fixed to a long pole, the stem, with a pair of straps used to bind the ox to it.

Pablo forced her to bend over and then he shackled her wrists to her knees. Then he made her back up along the stem so that is passed between through her cleavage between the breast rod and her chest. He positioned the stem between her legs so that the twin leather straps were just under her dangling breasts. Those straps were  tightened around  the French girl's breasts above and below the point where the metal bar was transfixing them, making them bulge, taut and firm under her. She could feel the coarseness of the wooden pole against her crotch and inner thighs. Finally, he attached a short chain between her ankles to prevent her from doing too large strides, not that she could walk very fast anyway with the agony caused by each step in those evil horseshoes.

Once she was all set, Pablo used his bull-whip to spur her into action. He was standing behind the plough, holding its handle while she was trying to pull it forward. It took several hard lashes onto her rump to decide Aurelie to move. She braced on her throbbing feet and pushed on her legs. She felt her breasts strangled some more and stretched down her belly. The pain was shooting through her body, from feet to breasts. And the whip kept landing hard on her protruding buttocks, stinging, spurring her to move forward. She was howling desperately as she felt her toes dig into the soft earth while the screws were grinding against her metatarsal bones. How long would her breasts stretch before the plough would start to move? At last it moved but Aurelie was sure that her breasts had been elongated beyond recovery. Her chest would forever be snooping and flapping on her belly.

As she toiled forward, step by step, stung by the whip continuously, she realised Pablo had lied: the horseshoes did not protect her feet. They left her toes and her the skin inside their curve fully exposed to the sharp stones and thorns she kept stepping on. Still those comparatively mild wounds passed indeed ignored as the screws were torturing her bones. Soon, cramps knotted into her calves began to compete with the agony caused by the screws. Standing on high-heels had never been Aurelie's main skill and those shoes were the tallest she had ever worn. Moreover, with each step, the wooden stem was chaffing and bouncing against her naked crotch, soon causing blisters to appear, followed by open wounds.

Her skin was covered with a thick layer of sweat, upon which an army of flies was busily quenching their thirst. The nasty insects kept bugging her by walking over her face, entering her nostrils, eyes and gaping, drooling mouth. This was pure hell and she wondered how long she could bear this treatment without collapsing. But whenever she gave the smallest hint of tiring or slowing down, Pablo's hips went into a frenzy all over the length of her curved back and criss-crossed buttocks.

Slowly, her breasts were stretched some more, until she could feel her aureole brushing against the front of her thighs with each stride. By now though, she was no longer concerned with her looks. She was bathing in the middle of he woes, her brains totally saturated with agony sensations swarming from all her nerves. Her mind was focused on moving her throbbing feet forward, step after step.

Countless flies came to feast on the wounds left by the whip, sucking the red moisture as fast as they could until the next lash scared them away. Some of the insects preferred to settle on her dangling udders, which were now looking bigger and more swollen than those of a cow. She could hear them buzzing on her ear, but trying to shake them out only caused more agony from the soles of her feet, to the severely scratched crotch, to the elongated breasts, and ended with a flash of pain on her back as Pablo punished each delay with an overhead swing. Some horseflies judged her body as that of a dying animal, and decided it was a good place to lay their eggs in her many lacerations.

After a couple of laps however, she just could not move her legs. She was completely exhausted and her body was so much coursed with waves of agonies that she barely felt the nasty bull-whip lashes any more. She fell on her knees, which dug into the earth, slouched over the plough pole. Without its painful support she would have fallen on her side.