End of the Road Farm
By Nickd1104
Note:
This is a horror/fantasy work of fiction and should be read 'tongue-in-cheek'. Any similarity to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
*
As the mini-van bumped along a very rough track, Alex wondered what else could go wrong with his life. Although he had completely lost track of time he knew that two winters had come and gone since he last tasted any kind of freedom or even experienced a pain and humiliation-free day. Gloria and Nancy had given him no indication of what was to come when they had forced him into a metal cage, not much bigger than a dog's kennel, in the back of the van and covered it with a thick rug. The frequent jolting of the vehicle made his uncomfortable, cramped position much worse and he was soon bruised from head to foot. He reckoned they had been on the road, and then the track for about three hours so were probably well over a hundred miles from the Farm. No doubt his "handlers" had taken a circuitous route to prevent any chance, no matter how small, of Alex figuring out where he might be. It wouldn't have made much difference anyway because he had no idea of the actual location of the Farm anyway, so figuring out the route they had taken from there would have been pointless, but that was their way of keeping him completely disoriented.
His problems began in 2002 when his gambling habits got the better of him and he made the mistake of creating some fake loan accounts at the bank where he worked as an assistant manager. When discovered, the bank rather than face the embarrassing criticism of its clients chose to fire him on the spot and immediately advised the local police chief, Chief Vanessa Kruppski, of its decision not to prosecute. He was ordered to leave town and the Chief, at the request of the bank's senior management, dispatched two of her deputies to make sure he got on the bus at the local Greyhound Station. En route to the bus station the deputies, the same Gloria and Nancy of to-day's transfer, took him instead to a compound up in the hills and handed him over, in regulation handcuffs, to a middle-aged woman who called herself Miss Stern. She made it clear to him that he could leave with the deputies, knowing that he would never get another job requiring trust, or take a job at the "Farm". He decided on the farm job, a choice he would regret every day of his life from that day onwards. (Later, he realized that the offer of being able to leave was totally false and that they had no intention of letting him go free under any circumstances.)
Miss Stern led him to the basement of the house and allocated him a small room. Inside the room was a bed and just about nothing else other than a circular hole in the floor in one corner. He was told to make himself comfortable and get used to his surroundings and someone would be back to get him later. A little confused, he moved over to the bed and, as he did so, Miss Stern left the room closing the door behind her with a loud thud. Moments later the light went off and he found himself in total darkness. He located the door and found it was locked on the outside.
So began the most unpleasant period of his life. Several hours later he was passed a glass of water and a sandwich through a small opening in the door. The handcuffs had not been removed and eating the sandwich and drinking the water was difficult but he managed, somehow. In moments his head was spinning and he stumbled over to the bed and collapsed onto it. When he came round he found he had been fitted with a metal locking device around his genitals. It was tight enough to prevent him removing it but not so tight as to cause him any undue pain. Later that night Miss Stern came into his room with the two police-women who had delivered him there earlier in the day. As they came in he made a foolhardy run for the door but was crippled by a searing pain in his genitals and collapsed, in agony, on the floor. One of the policewomen walked over and kicked him repeatedly, totally ignoring his pleas for mercy.
"Welcome to the Farm" said Miss Stern. "You have been fitted with one of our homing devices that will keep you completely under our control 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. All of the women working here carry monitoring devices and can give you an instantaneous crippling painful jolt at any time from anywhere. What you just experienced was a level one jolt and it goes up to level five. Your life has changed permanently and irrevocably. You will work for us here every single day of the week, year-round, from 6:00am until 8:00pm with a 15-minute lunch break at 1:00PM. If your work is unsatisfactory you will be punished by any one, or all of us, at our whim."
So began a most unpleasant period in Alex's life and he quickly learned that Miss Stern was not joking about his schedule nor understating the harsh punishments that he would receive at the hands of any of them. Initially, he thought he had fallen into the hands of a bunch of dominatrixes who would get their sexual excitement by using and abusing him. He quickly learned, however, that if there was one thing missing from this equation it was sex. None of the women ever gave any impression of being the least bit interested in sex and, in all the time he was there, he never saw a bare breast or even a good view of cleavage. His early impressions and expectations were clearly wrong and the last thing he was regarded as was any kind of sex object or plaything. He was there purely as a workhorse, a slave actually, to be used and utterly abused in the pursuit of their twisted lifestyle.
He did not see much of Miss Stern but whenever he did he knew he was in for an extended period of beatings and deprivation. She delighted in either hurting him viciously or shouting encouragement to any of his several different female handlers as they carried out her depraved instructions with whoops of joy (not that any of them required any encouragement at all). His work included anything and everything from cleaning the many different suites occupied by the women residents to mucking out the stables and washing the vehicles at the Farm. After a wet day he would have a pile of up to 20 pairs of boots to clean and polish and the slightest speck of mud left on or under a boot would result in a punishment where he would have to crawl on his hands and knees through a muddy, dung-covered, cattle sorting pen being kicked by women lined up on both sides. After being hosed down with ice-cold water he would have to clean all the boots again, knowing the same punishment would await him if they found even a microscopic speck. On those days also he would automatically be denied the 15-minute lunch break, the scant lunch sandwich and the miserable bowl of soup or swill he got in the evening.
Now, finally, Alex seemed to be finally free of the Farm, for which he was extremely thankful but, at the same time, having experienced the almost daily delight the women got from torturing him, he knew that he was not about to experience anything remotely like freedom. The fact that Miss Stern and all her "handlers", as she liked to call them, never made any effort to disguise their features indicated that he was not going to be allowed any subsequent opportunity to identify any of them to anyone in authority.
Throughout today's journey Gloria and Nancy had ignored him completely but he had been able to catch snatches of their conversation as they drove along. He learned that two or three days before, a new "worker" had been initiated into the farm's operations. Although they didn't say so he figured out that this poor guy was his replacement – too bad for him but Alex didn't have any room for sympathy for anyone else, he had enough problems of his own. Eventually the van came to a halt, the two women got out and he heard them walk away across some gravel. He was left in the cage in the back of the van for hours and, as the day progressed, it got gradually hotter and hotter inside the airless vehicle. His throat was dry from the lack of water and he tried to cry out but only developed a weak croak. He doubted if they would have given him any water even if they had heard him as they had always delighted in hurting him in any way possible and depriving him of the bare necessities. Finally, he heard voices coming towards the van and the back door was pulled open. Without removing the rug, the cage was manhandled onto a trolley and wheeled over the gravel and onto what felt like a paved driveway. He heard an overhead door open and his cage was wheeled into a garage, judging from the oily smell. A corner of the rug was lifted and a water bottle was pushed between the rails. He could hardly move due to his cramped position but managed to drink from it. Just like the day he first arrived at the "Farm" he felt himself go woozy and he passed out before he could even begin to worry about what was happening to him.
When he came round this time he was standing with his arms shackled, at the wrists, to some kind of bar and his ankles shackled to rings in the floor. He was also blindfolded and had a rubber ball-gag in his mouth. Some groaning to both his left and right told him that he was not alone, but the blindfold and the ball-gag made any further investigation possible. A little later, however, he could hear the sound of voices, gradually getting louder and he realized that a group of people was entering the room. He could sense that they were quite close to him and was able to pick up a slight hint of musky perfume in the air.
"Ladies. Welcome to our ninth-annual slave auction". The voice was that of a refined Englishwoman. "Tonight we have six specimens up for auction and they will be offered for sale after our annual gourmet dinner prepared for us tonight by our wonderful hostess, Bella. As you know, all sales are cash and final (a loud chuckle rose from the assembled group of women). All of the specimens for sale tonight were loners in their previous lives and, fortuitously, all have been out of circulation for over two years so they won't be missed and will be yours to do whatever you wish to, and with, them without any fear of consequences. Always remember, though, that when you are fortunate enough to be selected to host one of our annual dinner sales, the rules of our society govern your responsibilities!
As you know Evilyn Stern has, during the past year made some wonderful improvements to the homing device and each of these slaves has either recently been, or will very shortly be, fitted with the latest model, one that is actually implanted in one of his testicles, making it far more "user-friendly" for us all. It is a major step forward in maximizing the control we have over our slaves with minimal effort and a real benefit by substantially increasing their usefulness by what she calls "ultimate remote pain therapy". To her immense credit only two slaves failed to survive the prolonged experimentation period.
Now before we adjourn for dinner I invite you all to come up and view the slaves in order to prepare your bids, based on what you see, feel and find to your liking. Each slave's homing device has the first three numbers 911 with the suffix "1" for the first slave, on the left, through "6" for the last slave on the right, so do feel free to test their pain tolerance if that is important to you. Please contain your enthusiasm and do not go beyond level "3". I don't need to tell you that level "4" can permanently incapacitate them under some conditions and level "5" can, and has, been fatal on several occasions. Should you terminate, or render a slave worthless by incapacitation, you will, as per our rules and regulations, be fined twice the highest bid at tonight's auction. You will also have to take the injured slave away with you and dispose of him in an appropriate fashion."
As the Englishwoman talked Alex went from fear to panic to outright dread. Although life at the "Farm" was hell – 14 hours a day 7 days a week with frequent additional work for unsatisfactory performance and almost daily severe punishment sessions – this sounded like it could become even worse. He couldn't imagine that any of these women here tonight were from Amnesty International or any similar body.
The women came up to the row of slaves and stood before them discussing them like slabs of meat at the meat market. Occasionally he heard a scream as one of his fellow slaves was tested with his homing device but, so far, nobody had activated his. A group of women came up to him and spent considerable time prodding his arms and legs, measuring his muscles and gauging the amount of his body weight that was fat rather than muscle and sinew. One of them fondled his testicles and, surprisingly, he felt an erection developing – something that he had thought was a thing of the past as his handlers and the permanently fitted device had kept him in almost constant agony down in the erotic zone. Moments later he felt intense pain as his cock received a sharp blow from a metal rod or something similar. "That will have to be dealt with thoroughly if I buy him," said a woman with a German accent, "but I will want to milk him for my skin therapy so I am glad he still functions". Several other women came up and pulled and prodded at him, some more painfully than others, but it seemed that the German woman had indicated her desire to buy him and the others paid more attention to the rest of the slaves that were, at that point, still up for grabs.
The women left the room and although he was blindfolded he could sense that the lights had been turned off and a silence overtook the room. Each of the slaves was gagged but, being so enveloped in his own personal fears, he would not have felt like socializing even if he could.
It was at least two hours before the lights went on again and the women came back into the room. The English-sounding woman took control of the meeting again and announced the bidding process – starting from the left and finishing on the right. Alex didn't know whether he was slave 2, 3, 4 or 5, but he had figured out by the movement of the women that he wasn't 1 or 6. The auction took several hours to complete as there were frequent stops for drinks, socializing and more prodding and pushing of the auction lots. The prices ranged from $1,800 to $4,900 and he thought, but was not entirely sure, that his price tag was $3,750.
"Ladies, that concludes the evening’s entertainment and business. Your purchases will be left here overnight and you can claim them after breakfast in the morning, once you have settled your bills. Bella has kindly donated two of her slaves for late-night entertainment should any of you so desire. They are located in punishment rooms one and three, downstairs, and each room has a full inventory of crops, whips, canes, cattle-prods etc. The rooms are almost completely soundproof but, for the benefit of those members wishing to sleep, do use ball-gags if anticipate the noise getting extreme. You have already been allocated bedrooms and they were prepared for you during the banquet. Sleep well!"
Without paying any attention to the six slaves still shackled up on the stage, the women left the room and, once again, the lights were extinguished. As difficult as it was Alex did fall asleep although he woke frequently as pain wracked his shoulders and neck and abject fear permeated his entire body.
...
The next morning, one by one, the new owners released their purchases from their restraints and took them away. Alex's new owner gave him a level "1" with the homing device and told him that the slightest deviation from her instructions would result in a level "2". He knew that the pain from that would put him in acute agony for at least an hour so he readily, albeit reluctantly, submitted himself to her. He was ordered down some stairs and told to stand against a wall where his wrists were cuffed above his head. At that point his new owner removed the ball-gag and asked him if he was ready to begin the next part of his life. He answered in the affirmative by saying "Yes Mistress" and she removed the blindfold.
He hadn't known quite what to expect but what he saw amazed and terrified him. His new owner was probably in her mid-fifties, close to six feet tall and likely weighed about 250 pounds. She was wearing a black silk blouse barely able to contain an enormous bust, a black leather skirt stretched tight across wide hips, shiny black boots, laced up to just below her knees and black leather gloves. His first, scared, reaction was that this was a woman who could eat him for breakfast and spit out the bones. In spite of her size she had flawless skin and her face make up accentuated her high cheekbones, large eyes and her imperious features.
"So, I am Mistress Gudrun, your new owner. You will only speak to me when spoken to and when you do, you will always address me as Mistress. You will be called slave because that is exactly what you are." Her German accent was quite clear and its harshness only added to the level of fear already mounting inside Alex. "We will be leaving here later to-day for my home. You will be in your cage for about nine hours for the journey but I will feed you something before we leave. Right now you will eat this." She held a bowl of oatmeal or something similar in front of him and he realized that he would have to eat it "doggy-style" as there was no spoon. She watched him in silence for a few moments with a rather menacing sneer on her face, then turned and walked away without another word, the staccato sound of her boot heels punctuating her departure on the stone floor.
Several hours later he heard a vehicle pulling up to the overhead door at the other end of the room and his new Mistress/Owner came back in with an Asian woman he had not seen before. She held out a bowl of diced raw vegetables and, when he had eaten them, she put the ball-gag back in his mouth and blindfolded him, tightly, again. That was the only time he ever saw the Asian woman. After unshackling his ankles the overhead door was raised and he was pushed to the vehicle. He was ordered to clamber into the back and squeeze himself into another cage that was then promptly shut and padlocked. Again, a rug or drop cloth was placed over it and the tailgate of the vehicle was slammed shut without any further comment. The front driver's side of the vehicle dropped slightly as Mistress Gudrun, presumably, got in. Moments later he knew they were back on the same rutted track he had been brought up yesterday. After about an hour he was relieved to feel the smoothness of a blacktopped highway and, in spite of his discomfort and raising fear, he was able to sleep for a good part of the journey. He came awake abruptly as the vehicle, once again, started to bang and crash about as it encountered a poorly maintained track. This went on for about an hour and a half and then, thankfully, the vehicle pulled into a garage and stopped. Before she got out Mistress Gudrun said, "We have arrived but I am far too tired to deal with you tonight. You will stay here until the morning".
The next morning he heard her come into the garage and open the tailgate. She pulled off the rug and, before unlocking the cage, threatened him with a zap of the homing device if he did not strictly follow her instructions. He knew better than to disobey. After unlocking the cage she removed his blindfold and told him to get out and go up the stairs into her house. She followed close behind, an electric cattle-prod in her right hand, and he entered what appeared to be a sort of mud-room with one door opening into a kitchen and another leading into a workshop. "Go into the kitchen and sit down on the metal chair," she ordered. Once again he was shackled to the chair, his ball-gag removed and he was given yet another bowl of bland oatmeal. Today Mistress Gudrun was dressed in blue jeans with expanding panels in each side to accommodate her weight, a thick dark blue sweater and rubber work boots. While Miss Stern was not a beauty she was, he reflected, not unattractive. His other handlers had been quite good looking women in the hard sort of way that fitted their nasty temperaments. Mistress Gudrun, however, was large and her imperious looks did nothing to ease his fear of what was to come. For a few minutes she stood watching him as he hungrily ate up the oatmeal and then sat down across the table from him, her thick arms folded underneath her enormous breasts.
“You will listen attentively because I will not repeat this. First I will tell you about my rules and me. Then I will tell you something about our women's society, the meeting I bought you at last night and what you can expect in your future. But before that I will eliminate any thoughts you might have of even thinking about escaping from here. That is totally impossible as Miss Stern and her team, have wired up the entire house and I enjoy total remote control over every room and all other areas, inside the house and outside. Had you attempted to make a dash for the back door when we came in here you would have received a high level shock and would have been in agony for several days, if not longer. You will be given enough open-space to carry out your duties as instructed but if you try to enter any area without my permission you will automatically receive a level '3" response. The exterior doors and windows are all wired to give you a level "4" or "5" if you do try to go through them and either of those levels could be fatal. You will stay within my strictly determined boundaries every single moment of the rest of your life. In other words, there is no way of escape, you no longer exist as a person, you have no options and I intend to recover every cent of your high purchase price many times over.
As I told you yesterday my name is Mistress Gudrun but you will refer to me as Mistress whenever the need arises to speak to me. The only time you will speak to me is to answer me when I ask you a question. You will lower your head in my presence, never staring me in the eyes unless I tell you to look at me. Touching me, in any way, will result in a week of severe punishment and total deprivation. For your information, I am a widow living alone and have one daughter who lives in Brazil. She has never once bothered to contact me since she left here, ten years ago, with her share of my late-husband's estate. As a result of his convenient death I am independently wealthy. I am known to be extremely eccentric and I never entertain visitors, other than members of our women's society. Once every two weeks I pick up all my groceries and supplies in town, some 40 miles away. In other words, I never have uninvited guests and, anyway, nobody can get beyond the perimeter fence and electronic gates so you will have no opportunity at all to contact other people. We are totally isolated from the outside world and that suits both my life-style and me very well. My phone and computer are in my office which is strictly off-limits to you and guarded by a level "5" response. You are here to serve me in any and every way I see fit and you will be on call 24-hours a day. If you perform well you will be treated with a level of kindness that, I am sure, you did not experience at Miss Stern's Farm. But do not become complacent or disrespectful as my punishment room downstairs has every torture item imaginable and, if I am sufficiently angered, I will use each and every one of them on you until you wished you were dead. I am not a sadist but I do enjoy the enormous feeling of satisfaction I get from a good torture session when it is deserved. I will expect superior performance from you and the slightest indication of sloppiness on your part will result in one of those previously mentioned long and painful punishment and deprivation sessions. As you come to understand the level of performance I demand you will become familiar with my various methods of punishment and you will quickly learn to exceed my expectations or suffer the severe consequences.
You will immediately, today, resign yourself to the fact that this is your final "home" as you will never leave here again. That is right, never! You might as well accept this fact without any ridiculous misconceptions or perverted hopes. Our women's society is very exclusive and membership is strictly controlled. In each case our husbands or parents left us considerable sums of money, allowing us to live out our fantasies rather than just dream about them. The auction I bought you at last night occurs once every year, around this time, at a different member’s home each year. You probably remember that after we inspected the slaves on offer last night we went off to enjoy our annual banquet. This is the highlight of our year as we are able to indulge in our favorite activity – eating a wonderful, well-prepared gourmet dinner of male human flesh – yes, you heard me right, male human flesh, from our inventory of slaves. Each year a member is honored by being chosen to supply the slave and cook him for our meal, and, at some point in the future you will be privileged to be served, by me, when I am selected to host the annual banquet for our society."
Alex could not believe what he was hearing and, paralyzed with fear, he just sat there unable to say or do anything while absorbing this horrendous indictment.
"In order to provide variety only a limited number of the current members are eligible for the opportunity to host the meeting and banquet in any year. Last night it was Bella's turn and she will be removed from the list for three years. Vera, the provider last year has another two years to wait for eligibility and the successful member from two years ago, Francine, has just one more year to wait. I was on the list of eligible members this year and will be each year until I am honored with the responsibility of hosting the event and serving you at the banquet. It might be my turn again next year or, according to the luck of the draw, I might have to wait for many years. It's been six years since I was so honored so I am hoping my turn will come very soon. I bought you last night to replace my previous slave who, annoyingly, died a few months ago. He was a few years older than you and, unluckily for him; he could not keep up with his work schedule and died of exhaustion. You are young and healthy so I do not anticipate the same unsatisfactory result from you
The lottery for next year's annual celebration will take place in about six months and, if I am the lucky member selected, I will have about six months to get you "oven-ready". They will be six wonderful months for us, working together with frequent help from other members, preparing you for your final use, and I know you will be equally thrilled as we get you prepared and ready for the banquet table."
Alex was totally sick to his stomach and the fear he had felt before was now meaningless compared to the total horror of what lay before him. He wondered if she was, perhaps, completely mad and delusional but before he had a chance even to consider that more fully she continued.
"You probably think I am a crazy, demented old woman but let me assure you that I am completely sane and fully aware of everything I am doing and plan to do. All the other slaves auctioned off last night are being told the same facts of life to-day by their new owners". She then carried a 15-inch television across to the table and placed it in front of him and inserted a DVD into the slot. "This is Bella's record of the last six months. It starts when she told her slave that she had been selected to host this year's meeting and he would be served for dinner. It documents every significant event right up to and including the preparation, cooking and serving of him as her main course offering. Watch it and you will realize the ritual importance to us of this event as it takes place every year – you will also see me helping in the kitchen, preparing the roast, checking on its progress and, finally, joining all the others in the celebration and feast last night. You will see the joy on the face of her slave as he takes his final breath and you will also be impressed by the love flowing from Bella as he is sacrificed. Slave, you will share in this joy and excitement sometime in the next few years as I prepare you for the banquet".
The DVD ran for almost an hour and did indeed cover everything from his facial expression when he, the slave, was told his Mistress had won and he would be served for the banquet. It covered, in detail, the fattening-up process right up to his last few days when he was given a series of painful enemas to clear all the toxins from his body. The last twenty minutes or so dealt with the preparations on the day and clearly showed the unmitigated pleasure and excitement on the faces of Bella and the two winners from the previous two banquets as they brought the poor wretch into the kitchen, hoisted him onto the counter and went through their various rituals and preparations. He had a ball-gag in his mouth to prevent any noise but was intentionally not blindfolded so that the women could enjoy his facial expressions as he was systematically shaved, trussed-up on a huge roasting pan, jabbed all over with skewers and seasoned. The screen went blank for a few seconds and then the final act before he was rolled into a large pizza-style brick oven took place – that of Bella ceremoniously cutting off his testicles. Mistress Gudrun, panting with obvious excitement, explained that the hostess had the right to enjoy these delicacies as an appetizer if she so desired and said that these were a much sought after delicacy but, for the best flavor, had to be removed just moments before the roasting began.
Once the slave was inside the oven the women sat down around the kitchen table and enjoyed a glass of wine. Bella removed the implanted homing device from one of the testicles and then appeared to put them into a marinade. The screen then blacked out again, momentarily, before coming back to show the removal of the roast from the oven, the wheeling of it into the banquet room and the anticipation on the faces of the women as they lined up to get their portions of freshly roasted male flesh. The slave was unrecognizable but it was clear that the roast was the same human form. Bella stood up, proposed a toast to the departed slave and, in the traditional way, consumed the testicles to the sophisticated applause of the other women... End of DVD.
"Now, slave, you will be locked in your room for a week or so while you learn to accept your new status as my property and overcome the initial shock of your ultimate use. Believe me, I know from experience that you will soon recognize the inevitability of your fate and become at peace with it. I know it is a hard fate to stomach, no pun intended, but you will be contributing to a most worthwhile cause. When I let you out, two of your previous handlers will be here to replace your homing device with the latest micro-chip device designed by Miss Stern and that will be more comfortable for you and significantly more user-friendly for me."
With that Mistress Gudrun picked up an electric cattle prod, undid the shackles on his ankles and directed him into the workshop adjacent to the kitchen, zapping him painfully several times on the way. He was ordered to open a trap door beneath a piece of indoor-outdoor carpet under the workbench and ordered to squeeze through the opening and down a 10-foot rope ladder. Once down, she immediately pulled up the ladder, replaced the trapdoor and left him alone in total darkness. He was able to locate a lumpy mattress on the floor and laid down on it – too shocked to even contemplate the next few days let alone the rest of his now obviously limited lifespan and his ultimate demise.
End of Part One
...
Part Two
For the next week he received one 'meal' a day of cold oatmeal sent down in a bowl attached to a rope harness. For those few seconds there was some light in the cell but, apart from that, he was left in total darkness the whole time. He had found a hole in the floor in one corner and assumed it was a toilet. There was also a spigot on one wall and he was able to get a drink of cold water and wash off his face. If this was her "level of kindness" he thought, then he was in total fear of the treatment he would receive on a bad day.
He kept going over the DVD in his mind, time after time, trying to see if there was any trick of photography that could explain the whole thing but, each time, he saw the look of utter panic on the face of the slave as he was slowly rolled into the oven in the large roasting pan. He remembered the camera being focused through the glass window on the oven door and it was quite clear that it was exactly the same person inside and watched, in horror, as blisters and lesions developed as the helpless slave pulled uselessly on his bindings as his skin and flesh heated up. With those awful visions in his head, sleep was difficult to come by and his life was plagued by nightmares even during his wakeful periods. He recalled thinking that on the night of the auction he compared the women's prodding and pushing to 'being in a meat market'. He realized now just how agonizingly true that description was – a human meat market with a group of utterly depraved women sizing up the slaves for first a period of total slavery followed by a trip to the annual banquet as a meal. This thought sent shivers through his body and he cried out in anguish, knowing that nobody could hear him and, even if they could, based on what he had seen already, none of the women would give a damn, in fact they would probably derive great pleasure from his tearful predicament.
Although filled with dread and despair he still managed to go over the film time and time again looking for a glimmer of opportunity to escape but, obviously, the women had thought of everything and any dreams of freedom only added to his utter despair. He realized that there were a lot more than six women at the banquet so there were many others involved, directly or indirectly, in this disgusting way of life.
Based on the number of food containers on the concrete floor he figured he had been locked away in this dark "dungeon" for ten days when, finally, the trap door was opened and the rope ladder lowered to the floor.
"Up" was the one-word command and he complied immediately, knowing that any delay would be dealt with by a shock from the homing device. As he reached the top of the ladder the light temporarily blinded him and, in a matter seconds, three pairs of hands had manhandled him onto a gurney and his ankles and wrists had been firmly locked into place at the four corners. He was wheeled into another room and, by then, his eyes had adjusted to the light and he could see it was some kind of utility room with tiled walls and floor. The gurney was rotated to about 45 degrees to the left and he felt a hand smear some cream on to his backside. Moments later Mistress Gudrun placed a thin glass beaker over the top of his cock and secured it with medical tape. Then he saw and heard her snap on a rubber glove. Next he felt something pushing on his ass and he realized that she was inserting one of her thick fingers right up inside him. It was most uncomfortable but he thought complaining would do no good and, would in fact, cause him a lot more pain. She found his prostate and began to harshly massage it. Alex hadn't even thought about an orgasm since he had been fitted with his first homing device, roughly two years ago, but he could feel his seminal fluid moving up his cock without any pleasurable sensation. His cum squirted into the beaker, which was then immediately removed and stoppered with a plastic cork. Once that was accomplished Mistress Gudrun took off her glove and threw it into a garbage can.
"OK ladies, it's time to fit him with the new homing device. I'll put the ball-gag in his mouth to keep him quiet and then we'll leave him here to contemplate the procedure while we have a cup coffee on the patio." Before they left they rotated the gurney back to horizontal and threw a heavy rubber sheet over him.
Later, he heard them come back and lift the rubber sheet off the lower part of his body and folding over his chest and head, leaving two thick layers pressing down on his face. One of the women used a key to first loosen part of the device and then she had to saw it off the rest with a hacksaw. She was not at all gentle, frequently banging either her hand or the saw against his cock and balls causing some loss of blood, but the ball-gag effectively prevented him making any noise. Once the device was removed a piece of wood or plaster board was slid under his balls which were then grabbed unceremoniously and pulled downwards and outwards, stretching the sac to its limit. He felt several brief, searing pains and realized his ball-sac had been stapled to the board. Gloria or Nancy asked Mistress Gudrun if she wanted them to freeze the area before inserting the new microchip inside one of his balls and she quickly replied that it would not be necessary, saying that he would have to get used to pain so he might as well start now. An incision was made in his scrotum and one of his balls was lifted up and out. He felt a sharp jab and became quite nauseous but realized that that must have been the implant going in. Sure enough, he felt her put it back in the sac and counted four stitches being applied to his scrotum. The rubber sheet was removed from his face and all three women looked at him intently. He was wondering why, when a tremendous jolt, followed by searing pain, racked his entire body. He literally rose several inches off the gurney and felt the cuffs on his wrists and ankles ripping at his skin. "So, the implant is in and it works like a charm" said Nancy, with a big smile spreading across her face, "we'll put some tape on the incision and come back in a few days to take out the stitches and carry out some more tests to make sure it is working properly."
All three of them left the room leaving Alex shaking uncontrollably on the gurney with tears flowing down on to his cheeks. The last comment had really shaken him... 'make sure it is working properly and do some more tests'. The thought of waiting for a few days, knowing what was coming reduced him to a blubbering wreck.
Soon after the former handlers left Mistress Gudrun came back into the room and, seeing him crying, smacked him hard across both cheeks. "Stop that at once! Show some gratitude for what we have just done for you. Now you have the latest device installed and you will have no more discomfort like you had from the old one. You should be grateful for my kindness. You will now go back into your room until Nancy comes back to take out the stitches. Once that is done you will start your regular slave duties. Initially I will be milking you twice or three times a week, depending on your semen production. It will be uncomfortable for you but I need your fluid for my skin-care program. See how beautiful my skin is? – It makes me look twenty years younger. Once I have got your prostate adapted to my needs it will become a daily procedure so do not even think of masturbating yourself in your room as you will truly regret it – your device is programmed to pick up such abuse and will respond with a very painful experience for you, slave. Now, I am going to unfasten your clamps and you will go back to your room."
The thought of spending more time in that pitch-black "room" as she called it, was horrifying but at least he knew he would be left alone and not be abused for a few days. He got off the gurney and made his way, painfully, into the workshop, feeling the occasional electric shock from her cattle prod. He opened the trap door without any further encouragement from Mistress Gudrun or her cattle prod, lowered the rope ladder and went down. Immediately he touched the floor she began pulling up the ladder, closing and bolting the trap door less than a minute later.
Six Months Later:
Alex had spent the last six months in absolute hell. After Nancy had removed the stitches from his scrotum and the device exhaustively and very painfully tested, much to her sadistic delight, he was put to work by Mistress Gudrun doing all the domestic chores. She was, to put it mildly, a filthy slut, who delighted in making a mess knowing that her slave would be working exhaustively all day just to keep up with her. One of her favorite pastimes was to throw food or drink on the floor immediately after Alex had scrubbed and polished it. She would sometimes do this several times a day and he would find himself on his knees scrubbing the floor for five or six hours. Her bathroom had to be cleaned completely every time she used it – meaning that sometimes he cleaned it seven or eight times a day. She didn't believe in flushing the toilet – that was why she had a slave at her beck and call. On an average day he had to be up and working by six a.m. in order to have her full breakfast and coffee delivered to her room by 7:00. Each day her sheets had to be laundered and ironed and all the clothes she had worn the previous day had to be laundered and ironed or pressed. Although he cooked her a full breakfast of eggs, bacon and hash browns, or steak and eggs, every day he received only a small bowl of oatmeal. At night he would be ordered to prepare and cook a complex meal according to a diet she was following rigorously but his evening meal would be nothing more than a bowl of raw vegetables and perhaps a small scoop of chili or macaroni cheese. About once or twice a month she would allow him to eat the scraps left on her plate but she was such a sloppy eater that even getting "real food" was a far-from-pleasant experience. He was finally locked in his 'room' anywhere between 10:00pm and midnight unless he was taken to the punishment room to be mercilessly thrashed or tortured for the slightest reason. Occasionally Mistress Gudrun would entertain one or more of her society members for dinner and an overnight stay. After cooking and serving their meal he would have to serve drinks to them till very late in the evening when, somewhat inebriated, they would boisterously order him to the torture room and torture him for several hours until their depraved minds and bodies had been satisfied.
He reckoned he must have lost about 50 pounds from his already athletic frame but the constant manual work made him more physically fit than he had ever been in his life.
Although he had completely lost track of time he knew that it was Tuesdays when she left him manacled him to the wall of her punishment room and went into town to pick up her groceries and mail. She was usually gone for most of the day and he actually regarded the time spent manacled to the wall as a pleasant respite from his normally harsh and inhuman schedule. He had noticed a growing sense of excitement in her for the last two or three weeks and her punishment sessions had become more frequent, more frenzied, considerably longer and much more painful. Obviously something was up and he learned what it was when she came back that fateful day.
"Oh, this is wonderful!" she gushed. "Slave, we have been chosen for this year's banquet. Isn't that wonderful? What an absolute honor for both of us. You will now be able to fulfill your most important task in life! We have six months to prepare for this wonderful occasion – goodness! I am so thrilled that we have been chosen. You will be paying me and the other members of the group the most wonderful compliment possible by being prepared and cooked for our dining pleasure! You are so lucky – some slaves have had to wait five years or more to be so privileged and here you are, going to be served-up in your very first year. I am so happy for us both!"
Needless to say Alex was not in the least bit thrilled by this piece of news, all he could think of was the extreme terror he saw in the face of the last banquet's offering as he was slowly wheeled into the oven and roasted alive. He had known his turn would come at some point but, using the law of averages, he thought that he might have a few years left and, who knew, Mistress Gudrun might have croaked in that time as she was getting older and was certainly grossly overweight. Add her high cholesterol, high fat diet to the equation and he had been reasonably certain that he had, at least, a modest chance of out-living her. But that chance had now been snatched away from him and the clock was ticking rapidly towards his ultimate and terrifying demise.
Unbelievably, over the last six months he had experienced something akin to the "Stockholm Syndrome" and he had started not so much to hate Mistress Gudrun but to genuinely want to serve her to the best of his ability. He had even learned to view the severe beatings and periods of deprivation as her form of "tough-love" and had come to accept his position in life, as her slave, with equanimity. Perhaps, subconsciously, he had thought her natural feminine nurturing instincts would create a life-saving bond but that faint hope was now crushed once and for all. There was not the slightest hint of sadness or even concern in her voice – quite the opposite - she was absolutely delighted to have been chosen and was clearly looking forward, yes, eagerly looking forward to killing him and sharing his body with the other members of her group.
"I will call Miss Stern and arrange for Gloria and Nancy to become actively involved in the program. They can help me prepare a diet to put some flesh on your bones and work with me to have you in prime condition for the day of the banquet. That probably sounds cruel to you but there is no room for squeamishness, you'll have to get used to reality. My most important concern from now on is having you in prime condition. By the way, the girls are not just police officers, Gloria is a fully-qualified dietician and Nancy is a trained nurse – between them they have the skills to help me build you up and regularly monitor your condition as we need you to be completely healthy, disease and toxin free on the day! Now, I will leave you in here until they can come over with the society's special preparation cage. You will be gradually spending more and more time in it until sometime during the last month to six weeks when you will be penned in it around the clock for the final fattening up. Once the final move is made you'll stay in it until the morning of the banquet. This is wonderful – I am so happy for both of us – what a privilege!"
With that Mistress Gudrun left him manacled to the punishment room wall, locked the door and turned off the light leaving him, again, in total darkness.
His former handlers came over several days later and, without any formalities, got down to business. In time-honored tradition they told him that his status had now changed and his work schedule would be eliminated immediately as Miss Stern had already provided a replacement slave. He was also told that he would no longer be referred to as a slave but simply as "dinner" to keep him focused on his role in the upcoming event. His mind was spinning and although he had long ago got used to this extremely frightening and depraved lifestyle he had been forced into he still could not believe that this was really happening to him. Telepathically, Mistress Gudrun said, "right now this is probably too much for you to comprehend isn't it but don't build up any ridiculous false hopes about any change of plans. You can be assured that, once the hostess for the banquet has been selected, nothing in the past has ever caused the event to be cancelled or delayed. Nor will anything prevent or even delay this, our sixteenth consecutive celebration and, dinner. I am so proud to have been selected and so thrilled that I will be serving you as the main course on the menu. I just know you will be a meal that neither I nor the members will ever forget."
He was stripped naked, weighed and measured from every conceivable angle, with Nancy making copious notes in her journal. "His weight, right now is 119 pounds and our goal is to have him dressed-out for the oven at between 175 and 180 pounds so over the next six months he has to pack on 55 to 60 pounds". They also checked his blood pressure and took a blood sample for checking. "We can do this the nice way or, if you choose, the hard way. The nice way will be for you to eat the meals we prepare for while you spend up to 20 hours a day strapped onto the gurney. As you begin to add weight you will spend gradually less time on the gurney and more time in the preparation cage. The hard way, if you choose to rebel, will be to lock you in the preparation cage 24/7 and force-feed you like a factory-raised chicken. We consider that to be rather abusive and it does impair the quality and flavor of your flesh and will cause you additional and unnecessary discomfort in the latter stages of preparation. Which way is it going to be, dinner?"
"I really don't think I have a choice do I?"
No sooner were the words out of his mouth than his body was racked by intense pain from the implanted device. It was made clear to him that he would treat the society's "banquet preparation specialists" with the same respect he accorded Mistress Gudrun. Through sheer hopelessness he lowered his head in shame and uncontrollable tears flooded from his eyes as he realized he was both physically and psychologically broken. In approximately six months time his life would end in a most bizarre and painful way at the hands of Mistress Gudrun, the "specialists" and any other of the members present for the roasting ritual. In a moment of 'almost tenderness' Mistress Gudrun touched his cheek and said "As the day of the banquet gets closer, dinner, you will find yourself getting excited by the infectious pleasure you will see on the faces of us all as we make our preparations and, remember, for a short time after the banquet, you will continue to live on inside of us." The factual way Mistress Gudrun made the last comment was, perhaps, the most chilling moment of his life to date.
He was then placed on the gurney, manacled at the wrists and ankles and his upper torso was elevated to a sitting position. The room was absolutely bare of anything with just plain pastel pink walls and ceiling and the same color vinyl tiles on the floor. All three women left the room and when they closed the door it immediately became impossible to see where it was – so well had the room been designed. The light was dimmed and he realized that this was going to be his "home" for the rest of his life. Certainly more comfortable and pleasant than his previous work schedule with its frequent beatings and torture sessions, but the finality of it all hit home. He was now, without a doubt, on "death-row" with absolutely no avenue of appeal open to him. His mind wandered all over the place and one moment he was remembering his not-so pleasant childhood, the next moment he was thinking about the fiancée who dumped him the day before they were to be married and then he cast his mind back to an old black comedy movie he had seen about two explorers who had been captured by some native women in the jungles of Borneo and had ended up in a large pot suspended over a wood fire. At the last moment the heroine of the film rushed into the clearing, showed the native women some enormous emeralds and bargained their lives back in exchange for the jewels. Oh how he wished his ex-fiancée would materialize, out of the blue, and do the same but he knew that wouldn't and couldn't happen. He was utterly doomed.
End of Part Two
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Part Three
Over then next five months or so the "preparation program" occurred exactly as he had been told it would. The special cage was brought into the "pink room" and his only physical exercise was being moved from the gurney to the cage and back again. He made one futile effort to escape his captors but a level three or, perhaps four, jolt rendered him unconscious. When he came round, quite some time later, he could feel bruising all over his body and an intravenous food tube down through his nose and esophagus. Gloria removed the food tube and told him any more nonsense like that and he would be kept in constant pain until the day of the banquet.
He was visibly gaining weight and the banquet preparation specialists were confident that they would achieve their desired goal of 175 – 180 pounds by the assigned date. The lack of exercise and the tasteless special diet he was on combined to raise his blood pressure but the nurse, Nancy, put him on medication to keep it a reasonable level saying that they didn't want to lose him before the celebration. The overhead light in the pink room stayed on all night and day making it impossible for him to figure out just how long he had spent in there. His vital signs were taken and recorded every day and every couple of weeks one or more of the members of the society would come in to the room with Mistress Gudrun or one of the specialists and take part in the check-up. It was all done with clinical efficiency and, with the exception of Mistress Gudrun; they all totally ignored him and talked about him as if he were not in the room. Their remarks were, more often than not, quite chilling as they talked about weight, flavor and cuts of the roast in a very matter-of-fact way with absolutely no regard for his feelings.
Although those experiences were unnerving and left him shaking, it was Mistress Gudrun that really petrified him by her seemingly total lack of concern for how he might feel about the whole matter. It was clear that she regarded the ceremony and banquet as perfectly normal and the taking of a human life to satisfy the depraved desires of the women as entirely acceptable to both them and the sacrificial slave. As the weeks and months passed she became more and more effusive and openly talked to Alex about the various parts of the ceremony and the different practices of the various hostesses. She commented that Bella, for example, along with a couple of the other, younger and more idealistic members, insisted that the slave be alive when placed in the oven in order to draw out the most flavor and juices. Francine, one of the other younger members, employed the slow draining of her offering's blood, immediately prior to cooking, to create a veal-like texture. Mistress Gudrun told him that she had not yet decided on her method but was considering a number of "exciting possibilities"
"I was the hostess for our fourth banquet" she said, "at that time our annual meeting was a perfectly good and useful way to get rid of an unwanted husband. However, we soon ran out of husbands and it was eleven years ago that we introduced the idea of using young loner-males that we could take off the street without any annoying questions coming up. Having Police Chief Vanessa Kruppski as one of our founder members has certainly made it easy for us to obtain suitable candidates for our ceremonies."
With that he felt the familiar movement of the gurney to one side and the unmistakable snap of a rubber glove as Mistress Gudrun prepared to milk him again. She had been milking him once a day for quite some time and recently, she had increased it to two and sometimes three times each day in order to build up a supply to keep her skin soft while his replacement was prepared for the same task. He could tell that the frequent insertion of her thick finger into his rectum had stretched it and she had told him that he would appreciate this during his last few days when he would be given a series of enemas to clean out his system. "For the last week you will be not be allowed any food but you will be fitted with an intravenous glucose drip to keep you alert and to sweeten your flesh. You will know when the final, wonderful, day has arrived because we have a little early morning ceremony as the intravenous is removed and preparations get under way. The whole day is full of our private rituals and I think if you come into the day with the right attitude you will enjoy the first few rituals too." Again, she was totally oblivious the terror that her words carried.
Each day now, one or more of the members came into the pink room with Mistress Gudrun or one of the specialists and it was very clear to Alex that his time was quickly running out. Mistress Gudrun was positively radiant (thanks to her skin treatment) and he realized that his hope that she would die before he was due to be sacrificed was no longer realistic. She actually looked younger and healthier than at any time since she had first bought him. On a regular basis he was moved from the gurney into the preparation cage and on this one particular occasion Bella came into the pink room with Nancy. Each time Alex saw Bella he was instantly reminded of the DVD and he was simultaneously filled with revulsion and dread. She walked over to the gurney, unlocked the brakes and wheeled it out of the room. Nancy walked over to the preparation cage with a small tube of fluid. "OK, dinner, we are now into the final week of preparations so drink this." He had long ago learned not to ask questions but to respond immediately to any orders to avoid a painful zap from the homing device. Since he had been on "death-row" they had used it less frequently, not wanting to cause him a heart attack or otherwise render him unfit for the banquet. He drank the tube of fluid and almost immediately felt woozy and passed out. He came round some time later and found that he had been manacled to the four lower corners of the cage and had a soft harness around his midriff attached to the top of it. Also he noticed immediately that an intravenous had been inserted in his arm and could feel that some kind of device had been inserted in his rectum and held in place with a broad belt. A thick pad had been put on the floor of the cage, something he had not seen before, and he realized he was completely trussed up with only minimal movement allowed. The other difference he noted was that the cage was now suspended from the ceiling on four metal cables and, off to one side was a different gurney. His heart rushed as he realized that this new gurney was made of stainless steel, had several pipes draining from it into a tank and a raised, beveled edge all around. Along one side was a row of typical kitchen utensils and various knives, leaving him in little doubt as to its purpose. His heart began to pound even harder and his pulse was racing dangerously – instead of being fearful he desperately wished that he would have a heart attack and avoid the sheer terror that awaited him. Unfortunately for him the door burst open, Nancy came in and jammed a syringe into his exposed thigh causing his pulse to normalize almost immediately. "No, dinner, we will not allow that to happen. We have taken a lot of trouble to bring you to this point of near-perfection and we will not let you deny us our hard-earned pleasure. Be assured that there is no escape.
From the moment you were picked up almost three years ago, you were destined for one of our society's banquets and your day is almost here – just be calm, patient and accept your fate. You have an irrevocable date with Mistress Gudrun's oven and our banquet table."
With that terse comment she left the room, quietly closing the door behind her. The lights dimmed to near darkness and he felt relieved that he could no longer see the gurney although he knew, of course, exactly where it was and what it was for. Even that relief was short-lived as moments later a spotlight came on angled directly on to the gurney with the light reflecting off its surface and the knives along its side.
He had hoped that there might be some kind of sedative in the intravenous but his panic level stayed very high. He was left alone for a very long time although he knew Nurse Nancy was monitoring him. The next time the door opened she came in pushing a small trolley with various tubes on the top and two closed tanks underneath. She was wearing a red rubber apron and elbow-length red rubber gloves. She pushed the trolley directly under the cage and then put a medical mask over her face. Without saying a word she attached one of the tubes into the device that had been inserted in his rectum, pushed a couple of buttons on the console and applied a blood pressure sleeve on his arm. Within moments he felt a warm liquid entering his bowel and intestines – it actually felt quite pleasant. The pleasure did not last very long, however, as he was soon feeling bloated. Nurse Nancy checked his blood pressure, wrote it down on a card and left the room. It was extremely uncomfortable and he was relieved when, some time later she came in and turned a valve on the hose, removed if from one tank and attached it to the other. She released the valve and he felt extreme relief as the fluid poured out of him into the retaining tank. This procedure took place twice a day for three consecutive days and then she came in and added another intravenous feed into the one already in his arm. "You will feel a great urge to defecate in about half an hour." She said in a matter-of-fact voice. "You are now undergoing the final purification procedure and you will be left hooked up to the tank until just before we wheel you into the kitchen. The drip will make you feel quite nauseous but you will not be sick, as there is nothing left inside you to discharge. This will simply clean out all of your intestines, and prevent any risk of contamination when you are served".
This was it – the last procedure prior to the day of the banquet and all of the sheer horror and terror about to come. He was shaking violently but the restraining straps holding him in place did not allow him to bruise himself. As on many occasions during the last six months he could no longer maintain any semblance of composure and was wracked with high-pitched sobbing, the tears dropping from his eyes like a fall rain shower. He had never been a religious person but, for the first time in his life, he started praying fervently, screaming his prayers at the top of his voice. As a consequence he heard, for the first time ever (and probably the last) music being piped into the pink room. It wasn't intended to soothe him, obviously, as he recognized the eerie and ritualistic sounds of Carl Orff's "Carmina Burana". It seemed the final ceremonies were about to begin very soon. Exactly as promised by Nurse Nancy he became quite nauseous and was racked by dry retching. He could feel the last vestiges of anything left in his system almost being sucked out of him and into the retaining tank below the cage. For a moment he felt something akin to calmness and then he lapsed into unconsciousness, caused by the evacuating drip.
In his dream he traveled back to his childhood days, remembering the brief but happy times he had as a kid. He saw visions of his parents encouraging him in all his endeavors and then the dream turned unpleasant as he watched his parents leave the house for the last time when he was 14. He had been way too busy to get up and say goodbye and an hour later they were dead in a head-on collision on the freeway. He saw various foster homes, some good and some not so good and then he re-visited the time when he finally went out on his own – a total loner with no family members anywhere. The dream turned pleasant again as he remembered the brief but passionate love affair with Caitlin followed by an empty sadness when she called off their wedding the day before it was scheduled. His dream was like a roller-coaster...
In fact, the feelings of the roller coaster were caused by the movement of the cage as Mistress Gudrun and three other women, Nancy, Gloria and Bella guided it level with the end of the stainless-steel gurney. He awoke with a start, cried out and started a pitiful attempt to free himself from the bondage of the cage. Immediately she saw he was awake, Nurse Nancy gave him an injection in the neck and he relaxed instantly. Mistress Gudrun opened the end of the cage and proceeded to unlock the manacles, and then she and Bella loosened the harness. The cage was tilted to about 45 degrees and between them, the four women slid him out and laid him, face-up, out on the gurney then rolled it into a hallway next to the huge kitchen. All the women were dressed in similar clothing – thin rubber one-piece outfits that covered them from the neck to the wrists and ankles. All wore surgical gloves and all had what appeared to be rubber-swimming caps on their heads and tight thigh-length shiny latex boots. Mistress Gudrun was in red, while Bella was in yellow and the two handlers in black.
"The injection you were given has completely taken away your ability to move your arms and legs but will not affect your brain so you will see, hear and enjoy everything that happens. It is very important to us that you are able to fully-participate in our ceremonies." It was Mistress Gudrun that had calmly announced this to him. "The day we have both been looking forward to has arrived and you will be just perfect. We have a total of thirteen women sitting down to dinner so there will be plenty for everyone – I know you will be pleased to hear that".
At this point the three other women left the room and Mistress Gudrun pulled up a chair and set next to the gurney, her head just a few inches from his. "To-day is a very special day for both of us, dinner. For me I will be able to fulfill the most important obligation of membership in our society. I will be serving my fellow members the dinner they avidly look forward to all year and I will be accorded the highest status of membership. Once, in the past, we had a member who quickly realized she was unable to fulfill her obligations and we had to have a second lottery the next month to ensure we had both a slave selected and adequate time to prepare him for the banquet. That member, believe it or not, was Bella. The next year she begged for the right to re-establish her credibility and, by special decree, she was allowed to host the following year's banquet. Her failure the first time cured her of any misgivings and, in fact, she has earned a reputation of being the most determined of all the members. As you saw, last year's dinner was put in the oven, alive, and a few of us were a little concerned about that. We each have our own standards of decency and she did step just a little over those limits, but she is a good-hearted member and we are all reasonable enough to forgive her for her little quirks."
As she spoke to Alex she gently massaged the back of his neck and, occasionally, brushed her latex-gloved hand across his cheek. "You have been a good slave and have served me well. I hope you have appreciated the kindnesses I have shown you during the last year – it could have been a lot worse you know. Today is both a difficult and an easy day for me. It is difficult because I have found you quite useful and training new slaves is an exhausting experience. I am getting a little old for it now but the annual banquet really does make it all entirely worthwhile. However, it is easy to overcome that difficulty knowing that, as I speak, the final preparations are underway and you will soon be in the oven, slowly and steadily changing from your present, inedible state, into a delicious meal that we shall all enjoy to the full.
You must not think of us as wicked or cruel women. Our taste is quite different from most of our sex but our numbers are slowly growing and I think will continue to do so over the next few years. We are all intelligent women and have realized that we have the power to create life in our wombs so why should we not have that same power to take it away, in order to nourish our bodies. We are not angry women or men-haters; in fact at our board meetings we have had many discussions about how we would keep such women out of our society. Neither do we consider our taste in male flesh to have any sexual connotations. We are the consumers and you are the food-source. Throughout your life, unless you are a vegan, you have consumed fish, meat and dairy products and much of the food you have eaten has been raised and killed specifically for that purpose. We have taken that one logical step further and see nothing wrong, and everything right, with our philosophy. I mentioned Bella's penchant for putting her contribution into the oven alive. Well, that would not be my choice, as I don't find that compatible with my views on ‘cruel and unusual punishment’. I have never really felt comfortable dropping live lobsters into boiling water so why would I feel any differently about how I cook you? The one, beautiful, difference between roasting a lamb or barbecuing a salmon and cooking you is that I can cherish these wonderful moments talking to you before the event and it seems, somehow, to make the entire experience – not just the meal – far more satisfying and meaningful.
She smiled into his eyes, comfortably ignoring the last desperate look in them and, patting him almost lovingly on the cheek said "well, dinner, I am glad we had this conversation. I know I will enjoy the rest of this magnificent day so much more as a result of it and I hope you do too. Now, it is time to proceed with the festivities. I am going to ring the summoning bell now and the ladies will come back in here to help me with your final move into the kitchen".
She stood up, rang a little silver bell that he had not seen before and door opened and the three other women came back in from the corridor.
Together they pushed the gurney through the doors then moved him slightly so that the weighing device on the gurney could give an accurate reading. "181 pounds, well-done Gudrun" said Bella with a mild hint of annoyance in her voice.
Mistress Gudrun leant over him again and whispered soothingly in his ear "Oh, Bella's just upset because, had you not reached the minimum required weight, she would, under the rules, be entitled to enjoy your testicles but, at 181 pounds I get to eat them myself – oh that's so wonderful. They have done such a good job providing me with my skin treatment that I would have been devastated if I couldn't eat them at tonight's banquet – it just wouldn't seem right to miss that final intimacy between us."
Alex was in complete panic mode now as he could hear and see everything going on and, remembering the DVD he had seen, he knew he would be feeling tremendous pain over the next few hours before he was put in the oven. The women consulted a clipboard and determined that eight hours would be the optimum cooking time, plus they needed another hour or so for the roast to sit on display on the table in the center of the dining room. With dinner planned for 7:00 pm they agreed on a start-time of 10:00am. The gurney was turned slightly and Alex's head was raised just enough so that he could see Mistress Gudrun set the temperature on the front dial of the oven. At the same time he was able to see the clock on it and saw that it was 8:15, meaning that he had about one and three-quarter hours of sheer panic ahead of him before this nightmare ended in a very painful release from life.
One by one the four women came up and looked at him, expressionlessly, obviously sizing him up for whatever task was assigned to them, then Gloria picked up an old fashioned cut-throat razor and proceeded to shave his head, followed by his armpits, his chest, pubic area and finally his arms and legs. While she was doing this Nurse Nancy brought over a suction tube and dried out his mouth and throat. She then placed a stoneware spreader in his mouth and clamped it behind his head. "That's to prevent you from biting your tongue as it is quite a delicacy and we don't want it spoiled." She then pushed a plastic tube up his rectum and filled his belly with an ice-cold fluid. "That is a brine solution to season you from the inside. Then we'll season your flesh."
Bella was obviously in an unpleasant mood as she had counted on getting the testicles and kept bothering Mistress Gudrun about her plan. "Well, if you must know, I do not plan to place my offering in the oven alive like you did. I personally believe that that is rather cruel so I will terminate him immediately after I have removed his ‘crown jewels’ and right before he goes in the oven."
Alex was in a state of total disbelief. Even at the darkest moments of this nightmare he had, deep down thought that this was some huge game that they were playing and, when the dust settled, he would be back in his cell under the workshop by nightfall and ready to being serving his Mistress again in the morning. All the preparations he had seen this morning made that faint hope totally disappear.
"OK ladies, a glass of sherry, I think, and then we'll get on with the tenderizing". They all left the room and he could hear nothing other than the ominous metallic clicking as the oven heated up. About fifteen minutes later they returned, carrying their glasses and a half-full decanter of sherry.
These were placed on the table next to the oven and all four women picked up heavy, serrated wooden or aluminum mallets from the utensil rack on the side of the gurney. "There is no point in lying to you, dinner, this is going to be painful but my personal pride demands that I serve an exquisite meal tonight and tenderizing you will help to ensure a very satisfactory result". With that the women stood, two on each side of the gurney and systematically started pounding him. The two women near his lower end concentrating on his thighs and lower abdomen, the two at the top attacking his upper arms and chest. After about ten minutes of this they stopped for a drink and then resumed for another few minutes. The pain was unbelievable, made much worse by the sploshing sound as blood, from the welts and cuts they were causing pooled on his battered skin. It was obvious now why the women wore the rubber outfits, as this was not a job for a squeamish person. When they were satisfied with their handiwork Mistress Gudrun brought over a bowl full of various herbs that were then rubbed into his flesh and under any remaining sections of skin. Then he was turned over and the same process was completed on his back, again stopping near the mid-point for another glass of sherry. By now the blood-splattered women were getting quite flushed, a little tipsy and, clearly, extremely excited as they made the final preparations to the roast.
Bella then lifted a huge aluminum roasting pan from under the gurney and, between them the women slid it into place and lifted Alex onto it. It had four large handles; two on each side and was about twenty inches deep. Alex was placed on his knees and elbows and held in place by metal straps that were threaded through the handles and tightened across his back. Because of the injection he was utterly powerless to move but could still feel, hear and see everything. Mistress Gudrun looked at the clock and said they still had about twenty minutes before he had to go on the oven so they finished off the rest of the sherry and relaxed for a few minutes, totally ignoring him.
Mistress Gudrun chinked her glass and got the attention of the other women.
"Ladies it is time for the "final moments of life as he knows it" for our wonderful dinner tonight and it is at this time that I will tell you my plan." She walked over to the gurney and selected a wicked looking knife from the rack on the side and held it up to look at the blade. "This should do a fine job of castrating him just before His final act of glory for us." She went close to the side of his head and leaned over. "This has been a wonderful year for us, hasn't it. We've enjoyed some good times together and you have made me so proud. I just know that I will score high marks at the banquet review next month – it's unfortunate that you won't be able to enjoy the praise with me but that is life, isn't it! I think you know by now just how truly privileged you are to have been selected for this banquet and, as is our tradition here at our club, I would like you to express your thanks to me for the honor before I slice off your testicles. I will remove the spreader from your mouth, temporarily, so you can voice your gratitude".
Because his mouth had been suctioned dry it was virtually impossible for him to make any noise and all that came out was a faint rasp. For some reason this annoyed the usually mild-mannered Mistress Gudrun and she told him she would give him just one more chance and then squirted a small amount of water in his mouth so he could thank her properly. She walked over to the sink to replace the water bottle and, just as she got there, Alex heard the faint sound of a siren. He thought he was delusional, and not surprising really; after all he had gone through. But, no, Mistress Gudrun and the other women all stopped in their tracks and listened intently. The siren was definitely getting much louder and clearly coming toward the house. This was just too much for him, at the very last moment he was about to be rescued – the nightmare was going to end and these depraved women would spend the rest of their miserable, perverted lives in prison where they obviously belonged.
The siren stopped and, moments later he heard a hammering on the door.
"Police. Open up immediately!"
The four women stopped in their tracks and looks of sheer disbelief were the common denominator.
More hammering on the door. "Police – Open up immediately or I'll send in my swat team."
"Oh God! You'd better do it," said Bella, hardly able to contain her fear.
Alex was now shaking with pure unadulterated joy in spite of the incredible physical pain he was suffering.
"I repeat - open that damned door!"
Mistress Gudrun appeared very reluctant to do so but, at Bella's continuing urging, finally went to the door and opened it.
In came none other than Vanessa Kruppski, the police chief in her full uniform. She strode over to the preparation table and looked at Alex, trussed up like a turkey. "Thank God you are here Ma'am" gasped Alex "these depraved women were just about to, God I can't even say it, they were... Please arrest them.
"Arrest them? You poor deluded fool. You think I am here for your benefit? You poor deluded no-good loner fool!" She turned and faced the four women, now all smiling broadly, "geez! I thought I was going to be too late for everything. He looks oven-ready," She said in her brisk, police voice. "Ok, put the spreader back in his mouth and let's get him in the oven!"
Alex's last faint hope had obviously been a ruse on the part of the women to give him that momentary thought of salvation before the true and final reality struck home.
"Oh, dinner, you should have seen your face! It was a picture. Did you really think that we would have slipped so badly after all the trouble we have gone to reach this wonderful moment on our most important day of the year? Oh no. Your final moments have arrived."
From a pocket she pulled out a transparent latex hood and slipped it on to his head bringing it down to just cover his eyes. "Now, where were we before Vanessa made her striking entrance? Oh yes! Now I need that final expression of truly heartfelt thanks for my kindness and consideration this last year"
As if in a trance and realizing the end had come, Alex, now totally lost, quietly said ‘thank you Mistress Gudrun’ .
"That was very gracious, dinner. Now, I want you to look down very carefully as I remove your testicles and put them in my special poacher. Then I'll pull the hood down and you will suffocate quickly, and relatively painlessly, as there are no breathing holes for the mouth or nose. It is such a handy item – it comes from Denmark you know – those wicked Danes must have some really depraved ideas about... sex!"
As she said the word 'sex' she cleanly and expertly cut off his testicles, dropped them into the poacher, quickly put the knife down and pulled the hood completely over his head, smoothing it over his nose and mouth and creating an airtight fit around his neck. He tried holding his breath but knew it was hopeless and, as he sank closer towards oblivion, he finally started struggling desperately with Mistress Gudrun tightly holding his head close to her rubber-clad body and smiling, happily at him. His very last and fleeting memories were seeing her beatific smile and feeling the increasing heat as the roasting pan was wheeled towards the open door. Immediately he had stopped breathing and Nancy had pronounced him dead and ready for cooking, Mistress Gudrun triumphantly removed the rubber hood from his head and put it back in her pocket. She had an expression of utter contentment on her flushed face as she firmly closed and locked the oven door, setting the timer to eight hours...
One week later
Bradley was a small time crook who didn't believe in working for a living. What cash he needed he got from holding-up 24-hour convenience stores and gas stations. Tonight he'd slipped up and had been caught on the security camera in a store so he needed to leave town in a hurry.
It was a miserable night and, with an unsuccessful hold-up and no money he walked out on to the highway, hoping to thumb a lift into the city. He stood just past the county – line intersection and after about twenty minutes a gray sedan pulled up. "You look like you could use a ride," the rather sensual female voice said "why don't you get in the back and we'll take you into the city".
He got into the back and the sedan quickly pulled away from the sidewalk. As it did so he heard a faint 'plop' as the back-door locks clicked shut and a swooshing sound as a partition swiftly rose up between him and the two people in front. A somewhat disembodied voice said, "Hi, I'm Nancy and this is my partner Gloria…...
End
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