Date: Tue, 27 Mar 2007 22:25:45 -0400 From: d.a. w Subject: The Farm Part 4 Hope you guys enjoy this section. I am working on the next one. As always, like all writers, I welcome your comments and suggestions. Several have written me and I appreciate their comments and plan to incorporate thier ideas to make my story better. Many can create even a better story than one. THANKS AGAIN TO MY EDITOR and to all who write. daw THE FARM Part 4 Andrew slept the night through, exhausted by one of the most bizarre days any person could have. At 5:00 AM there was a rustle of keys outside the solid steel door of his cell, and the sound of the key going into the lock, and turning the tumblers. Andrew, fortunately normally got up at 5:15 and so was in a sort of half sleep and half awake state when these sounds began registering on his brain. Suddenly Andrew's brain remembered the order to be up and plastered against the back wall of the cell when the door opened. Andrew's eyes moved from sleep to terror-fueled openness as he jumped up and flung himself against the back wall, trying instantaneously to find the marks of feet, hands and nose for him to use for placement. "SHIT!" he thought as he heard the door open, and a sort of humorless laugh reached his ears. He knew he was close; he also knew he had not actually been IN the assigned place when that door had opened. "Not bad fish," a new voice said in an almost fatherly tone. "You didn't make it, but we'll help you adjust and I'll make an exception this time." Andrew first thought about making a statement about the fact his stay would be only one day, but decided that he would just keep quiet and not make any waves. Andrew now knew that clothed persons had complete control of his life, and if this one was willing to cut him some slack at the beginning of this day, then Andrew would just take it as a hopeful sign and go on. "I'm going to outline the rules and what will happen next," the voice continued, now within inches of his ear, speaking in a low menacing tone. "Tomorrow, if you are not set on the marks when I get line of sight, then you will earn one demerit. Demerits will be worked out at the end of the day at the punishment formation." The guard's hand then ran down Andrew's spine toward his ass crack, and Andrew involuntarily flinched. "One demerit for unauthorized movement." was the response. The guard then began listing the rules and Andrew mentally tuned out, but his attention returned when he received a hard swat across his butt, and his brain registered the guard's saying. "Perhaps we could help your attention by putting you on the punishment post while I help you memorize these rules." Andrew had had enough, and he said "SIR..." That was all he got out, when his senses began really sending messages to the brain with such speed that all of them seemed to arrive simultaneously. First he heard screamed into his right ear "WHAT?!" At the same instant he heard the sound of an object moving rapidly through the air, and at the very second his brain was processing that raw bit of information Andrew's ass exploded in a line of pain that was the equivalent of having a hot poker laid horizontally across his ass cheeks, but with such force that the cheeks were flattened. "YOU PIECE OF DOG SHIT! YOU DO NOT EVER TALK UNLESS ORDERED TO SPEAK." Almost every other word was punctuated on his body by another stroke of the punishment whip - a 15 to 24 inch piece of well-used thick leather at the end of a handle. There were now so many parts of his back and ass that had felt the smashing punctuation of the whip that it seemed his body was being forced into becoming one with the back wall and Andrew felt pain beyond his ability to find a word for it. Then in a piece of irony the brain provided a bit of self-deprecating humor. "The pain is infandous." he thought, remembering that archaic word which means so bad that it is beyond words. It was the same word he had used to show his superiority to those guards at Kevin's farm just yesterday. Then suddenly the blows stopped and the voice behind him spoke again, slowly and permeated with even more fury, "I'll wait for tonight. All day I'll be planning for your return you piece of prisoner dog shit. You just keep that in mind as you work out on the road today. I'll be waiting for you when you return." Then with a rustle of papers the voice continued, "I see you're already scheduled for special restraint, but I'll see that you get some extras for work as well." With that a lead was attached to his collar, and the command "Heel!" was given. Andrew did not know what to do, and so began to walk behind the guard. In one motion the guard yelled "ALL FOURS!" and, with a sweeping movement of his right foot, the guard swept Andrew's feet out from underneath him. Andrew came crashing down to the floor, but was given no time for recovery before again being dragged by his lead behind the well-packed pants in front of him. "Nice ass," Andrew thought, but that thought was soon driven out of his consciousness by the pain in his knees. The floor was hard on his knees, but no consideration was given to him and the guard walked full speed down several hallways and finally he stopped at a closed door. Andrew heard the keys, the lock, and then the door opened, and he saw a room with a number of prisoners on a sort of platform, which raised them, all on their hands and knees, to a height of about four feet. The height was so that the deputies could work on the prisoners without the deputies having to stoop. Andrew was winded after the dash through the halls. A series of steps immediately loomed in from of him, and although his knees both hurt, he followed his lead and crawled up the steps. He was led across the platform and then turned to be parallel to the prisoner on all fours immediately to his left. He was looking at a block wall about 2 feet in front of him, and he could feel the presence of the other prisoners to his left. In about two minutes another two or three prisoners were brought in, and he heard a guard say "All felons in line. Let's chain 'em up." About a minute later he felt not chains but pants being put around his ankles. He did not move, and then heard the order "Pull `em up to knees and stop." He grasped the black and white striped pants and pulled the waistband up to just below his knees. Then he heard the chains, and his cock reacted as it always did to the clanking of chains... it rose to show its interest. Just as his ankles were roughly grabbed, he heard his guard say "Punishment weight for this shit head." Another voice answered, "I should have guessed looking at that ass. Nice job of marking." Andrew felt a hand moving across his ass cheeks, and he involuntarily moved. Immediately Andrew felt a hard hand swat on his sore ass. "You move again ass wipe and I'll fill in the lines on that ass of yours with MY punishment strap." Andrew realized again that now he was no longer someone with personal space. He was an object, an animal, and he was to be examined, used, and worked like an object or animal would be. Again the other guard spoke with true admiration in his voice. "Those welts will blister nicely, and I really like the way those ass stripes will match his pants' stripes." Both guards laughed at the joke. Then he heard more clanking, and he thought to himself, "God they even sound heavier." First one, and then the other ankle was locked to the heavy chain with steel ankle cuffs. The chain was then dropped over the edge of the platform, and he had to bite his tongue not to gasp as the considerable weight yanked his ankles down and the steel ankle cuffs cut into his ankles. The one of the two guards who had just shackled his legs said, clearly addressing Andrew's guard from the cell. "God you looked pissed. What happened?" Andrew's guard owner spat out, "This replacement for Ryan tried to TALK without permission after basically tuning me out on the rules. I am going to spend all day thinking about how to ream his ass when he gets back tonight" Andrew was not having his fantasy day as a prisoner. He was terrified, and he was in pain. And pain was indeed what still circled his body. His ass, back and legs were red, he was sure. However the throbbing where that punishment strap had caught his inner thighs was perhaps current champ of Andrew's personal "Pain of the Century" award. "Well John, you sure got asshole well marked for his first day," another voice contributed. "IT will enjoy those leg irons, and we gave it Conway's old stripes." "Those the ones with the big rip in the ass?" Andrew's guard, John, asked. "Right!" one of the other guards said. "He'll be displaying his assets for the public every time he bends over." John laughed, and said "Great idea. Let's finish getting horseshit ready." Andrew noticed that he had moved from dog shit to horse shit and mused whether this was promotion or demotion, and also that he had ceased to be a "He" or "him" and was now an "it." His progress in the process of becoming a sub human animal slave was moving rapidly The guards talked about him like he couldn't understand, and certainly in total lack of concern for what he thought. Andrew also noticed that he accepted with silent resignation what others would do to him. Andrew had surrendered his freedom mentally, which might well be the essential first step to slavery. John approached Andrew's head, and ordered, "Open mouth horseshit." A shit smeared metal butt plug appeared in front of his nose. "Ryan was so happy last evening when he found out he would be resting in his cell all day today while you, horseshit, worked for him on the road gang that we didn't make him clean his butt plug off for today. We thought you might like to share this connection with your predecessor." John hissed into his ear, "This is just the start of your doing Ryan's work today, cleaning Ryan's shit off the plug. That's what you get for trying to get an honest con slave into trouble." Finally John whispered in the same terrifyingly menacing low voice, "Suck all the shit off, and be assured that, when this plug comes out of your mouth, it will be checked carefully. You receive one punishment stroke for every trace of shit still there. And of course, the only lube for this plug going up your butt will be whatever you leave on it." Then John added, this time his tone changed to a mockingly sarcastic "And be sure to have one great day." Andrew momentarily thought of protesting the health dangers of shit, and especially shit from another, but also almost immediately rejected as insane any idea of speaking again, and especially speaking to offer unsolicited suggestions. His body already hurt too much for a return performance of whipping, and this time there would probably be three guards whipping him Andrew opened up, not to speak but to accept the shit-smeared plug. The plug was metal and heavy, and Andrew was not used to having butt plugs down his throat, especially heavy metal ones. However Andrew also was so afraid of dropping it that his throat dried and constricted around it. Andrew immediately started moving his tongue up and down and all around as much as he could to clean it off. He began sweating again as he realized that his tongue could not reach the top, and he knew that any movement of his hands to reposition the plug in his mouth would probably result in so much pain from the guard's punishment straps that he might just ask for capital punishment instead. Andrew worked at releasing a little pressure on the plug, and, using his tongue in ways that were new to it, found that he could move the plug around using only his tongue. As his tongue caressed the plug, Andrew was surprised to feel what seemed to be some straight grooves on the plug just below the narrow part that would let his ass lips snap in around the plug. As Andrew tried to translate the impressions of his tongue into a mental image, Andrew guesses that there seemed to be three small French-fry type spaces outlined by the grooves. Andrew wondered what the fingers could be. He continued to be amazed at the change in his perspectives. Yesterday before he left for The Farm, he had been outlining an article for a prestigious business publication on the Fed's probable course of action. Now his intellect was busy trying to figure out the purpose, and to mentally visualize what the grooves outlined on the butt plug that would soon find its home up his ass. "And," Andrew mused to himself, "at this time my interest in the butt plug problem is much greater than any Fed policy i can think of. i am not interested in Fed problems at the moment." Fed economic policy was rather irrelevant to a convict slave who would be picking up trash on the side of a highway and exposing his butt to the world every time he bent over. Next Andrew saw the cons moving up so that they could put on their prison shirts. As the guard moved to him, John said to him "Clamp that stupid son of a bitch." The other guard replied somewhat absently, and more to himself than anyone in particular, "Boy, this fish really pissed you off this morning." The guard moving down the narrow space between the platform and the wall disappeared, and when he returned he order Andrew "UP boy," just like a dog. The guard casually started rolling Andrew's left tit between his fingers, and then Andrew saw the clips approach. He knew that all his concentration would be necessary because to yell would be to lose the plug, and again, those punishment stripes were still much too vivid in his memory and in the throbbing of his ass to ignore. Literally blinding pain shot through him as the wide open clamp was released over his tit. The point struck into the skin and took hold. The second was perhaps even worse because Andrew now knew the pain coming. The two clips were attached by a chain, and the guard asked, "Any weights?" "No" John, his guard said, "but keep some handy on the trip. He'll probably earn some weights before the end of the day." Andrew then was given his black and white striped shirt, and cringed when it slid over his new tit clamps. Andrew thought about the times that he had negotiated a scene with some top, and how he always had extensive restrictions on the use of tit clamps because he really hated them. No negotiations occurred this time, and he truly hated them. No one cared, he realized, and if they did care at all, finding that he hated the tit clamps would only make them happier. Then the chain linking his wrists was put into place, and Andrew could see the size on the links on that chain. Each link was perhaps a quarter of an inch of hard steel, and Andrew knew each link weighed a lot. He had some links like them at home, and sometimes he would do some housework with that chain shackling his wrists. Those times had only lasted 15 to 20 minutes, as the weight and inconvenience were too great. Today he would get used to it for over 12 hours. It looked like he would have about 12 to 16 inches between his wrists now. Then on the next trip down the row, Andrew heard the command "OPEN" being given. If that was followed by the word "CLEAN," then all he heard was a muffled groan as he was sure that metal monster was inserted up the prisoner's ass. Then he heard one say "Dirty - five pieces." Then he heard the sound that again caused an involuntary tightening of his ass muscles as that convict received five hard blows with the punishment whip. When the guard came in front of him, he received the order "OPEN" and awaited the verdict. "He prayed, "Please God let there be no shit on that plug." During the day he would think back and wonder whether asking God to help him clean shit was blasphemy, but at that moment it was one of the most fervent prayers Andrew had prayed for some time. "CLEAN" came the conclusion, and Andrew experienced great relief, and perhaps it would not be too much to say, happiness at hearing that word. Andrew's sets of goals and priorities had changed. Now shit free was one of his highest pleasures, when yesterday he thought he needed the expensive car, big and expensive house and numerous positions in government, at the university, and in his profession to feel the happiness he now felt at the simple word "CLEAN." Andrew saw the butt plug then get handed to a guard behind him. He hoped that some additional lubricant would be added, and normally especially for a fish, some lube would be added, but he had pissed John off, and so when the plug arrived, John shook his head "NO" to the other's guard's look of inquiry about adding some lube to the plug's tip. The other guard did, however, work the plug around Andrew's ass lips as slowly as he could, but eventually he had to thrust it up Andrew's ass - there was not time to do it slowly. As it was, the guard was the last to have his prisoner ready for which he earned glares from other guards. Andrew could not avoid an exclamation as the fairly dry plug tore into him. The guard chose to ignore the moan and the movement, and even John seemed to notice nothing. Andrew felt pain and pressure. He had been fucked a few times, but objects up his shit chute were not common. In a dungeon scene with some TOP who didn't want to have a bloody bottom on his hands, he would have been screaming, and the plug would have been well lubed, probably withdrawn, and some soothing words and actions would have occurred between Top and bottom. Here he had to quietly adjust to the plug, and received another hard inspirational slap from the strap, but Andrew now realized this was not punishment, but just normal life for a prisoner,. As he was wiggling to try to adjust to the plug up his ass, suddenly a new sensation right at the beginning of his shit shut really caught him by surprise. Now he began feeling like some gigantic turd was trying to escape from his asshole. Andrew wiggled almost involuntarily. The pressure was so uncomfortable that he almost broke the rule about talking to ask if he could go to take a shit. However just as the agony and pressure was becoming almost too great, and he struggled to keep his hands from reaching around and wrenching the plug out so he could dash to a toilet and excrete this mother of all turds, the guard at his head leaned over and was nice enough to tell him what was happening. "The plug has four levers which move out to the intestine wall. There is a little computer chip in the plug, and it opens only as far as it takes to register a certain predetermined resistance from the wall. The prongs wont rupture you. However, as your ass gets used to the plug, the prongs will adjust and expand further so that you will always have the plug locked into you. Without the code and the electronic controller, you would have to rip out the asshole to get the plug out." "Prisoners zip and button," was the order. The con to Andrew's right stood pulled up his pants, buttoned them, zipped them up, adjusted his shirt, and walked down the steps to the floor where he stood in a line with his ass to the platform on which the shackling had occurred. When Andrew's turn came, he finished putting on his pants, and also adjusted his shirt. This was a bit more interesting for Andrew than for some other because he had to deal with the pain of added pressure and abrasion on his tits as the shirt wiggled his tit clamps. Andrew also immediately found out how hard it would be to work with the extra heavy chains on. Moving was not easy in wrist and ankle shackles, and the extreme weight of his chains dragging across the platform made movement even more difficult. Finally Andrew got down the steps, not without a punishment strap slapping his ass a couple of times to get him moving. Even though now he had a thin layer of cloth between the leather of the strap and his tenderized ass, the strap still did the job of making him move faster than he thought he could. At the bottom of the stairs Andrew moved over and joined the line of cons in front of the platform. He looked down to the floor without being ordered and even before he noticed the other cons doing so. Andrew did not realize it, but the prison was beginning to subconsciously change him. He was so quickly becoming a prisoner and automatically submissive. The all of a sudden, he saw the highly polished shoes in front of his feet of a guard, and the voice told him it was HIS guard "YOU!!! WHAT DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING? DID ANYONE ORDER YOU TO PULL UP PANTS AND PUT ON THAT SHIRT?" Andrew thought about saying he was only doing whatever other prisoner was doing, but he already knew that he would never win any argument, and so he just froze. "DROP THOSE PANTS ASSWIPE!" John ordered. Andrew unbuttoned and unzipped them and down the fell to his ankles again. From behind his back John brought out a shiny metal cock ring, but this one had some sort of a small plastic box hanging down about 6 to 8 inches of cord from it. John grabbed Andrew's balls and roughly pulled them through the ring, and then he bent and stuffed Andrew's cock through the ring also. Then John took the cord and put it under Andrew's crotch, and ordered Andrew "ASSUME THE POSITION DOUCHE BAG." Andrew bent over, and felt something...he knew it must be the cord being attached to his butt plug. He was ordered to stand upright, and John produced some lighter chains. One of these chains he clipped to the chain between Andrew's tit clamps. This chain was then snapped onto the cock ring. However it was deliberately attached at a length that made Andrew bend over slightly to prevent pulling on the tit clamps, and/or pulling uncomfortably up on his cock and balls. Andrew knew that the slight stooping would really put painful pressure on his back muscles. Then John attached another chain to the cock ring and ordered Andrew to pull up his pants but hold them away from his body. John then dropped this chain down Andrew's left pant leg. "All right, zip and button it up," John ordered. As Andrew finished his task, John finished attaching the chain down his pants leg to Andrew's ankle chains. "Now asshole, stand there. Do not even think about moving. If I hear one chain link clank, YOU WILL BE punished." John ordered. The guards, the other prisoners, Andrew and John all then just stood there. Andrew concentrated on standing very still until he was released from this order, but he did not like the way everyone in the room seemed to know something he didn't. He had not been there more than a second or two when suddenly he felt a slight buzz in his asshole. Andrew began sweating in buckets. He now knew that the butt plug not only was electrified to push out the prongs to lock it up his ass, it also was electrified to buzz his ass as well. The electricity was increasing in intensity, and Andrew saw John's leering smile watching him. He saw a little black rectangular object - like a remote control for a television - in John's hand - and Andrew knew that the current would increase until he could no longer stand still and so he would rattle his chains. At almost the second he decided that he would move to get it over with quickly, John must also have made that decision, and a blast of current thrust out his asshole, connected to the cock ring, and he jumped in pain. The level of pain was extraordinary. Andrew felt a jolt across his chest, and his arms flung themselves wide at lightening speed, only of course to be brought into check by his chains. Andrew screamed in pain from everywhere. The electricity was making every part of his body experience pain, and his wrists were almost broken by the power of his thrust away from that intense pain. As the current went down his legs, making a secondary arc to his cock and balls, his legs involuntarily jumped up, he fell, and his legs also tried to escape the blinding pain by thrusting out. His ankles jerked apart, only to be met with the unyielding power of the cuffs locked onto him and the huge thick links of his chains. He literally saw black, then stars, then streaks of light, and then nothing but searing pain rushing over his body, and his frantic contortions across the floor. When the current stopped, Andrew laid there, tongue out, panting, and completely broken. Andrew would do anything to never experience that pain again, and both Andrew and the guards and the already-broken cons knew it. When he regained enough composure to restore awareness of his surroundings, Andrew was treated to all the guards and the cons sharing laughter about his gyrations. "I think asshole here might be the best dancer we've ever had." one guard managed to exclaim between bursts of sadistic laughter. "I think you should let the second shift see what a talent that fish has," another yelled. Then Andrew noticed the other cons were laughing at him as well. When YOU have been reduced to almost nothing, it must be enjoyable to see someone else reduced even further. "Con turdbrain just deliberately disobeyed orders," John said loudly, and all the guards dutifully nodded agreement through their tears of laughter. "That'll earn you five stripes tonight. I'm leaving a report on you shithead, and if any guard sees you not working, doing anything you shouldn't, or just for fun, you will be zapped. Maybe we should let the general public see your dancing talent." Andrew shuddered. Now that the guards knew his tremendous fear of the electricity, they had the means of control to make him do almost anything. Andrew, had gone from anger when he was first arrested, through shock at his treatment the first afternoon, to despair and fear as he realized how totally helpless and at other's commands and whims he was. His thoughts were interrupted by the voice he had so quickly learned to hate, fear, and obey. "All right Chris, take these piles of shit out to the truck and load 'em out." John ordered. Andrew and the others went out the door. As he went by a guard at the door Andrew was ordered, "Stand up straight!" and that order was reinforced with a fairly strong blow to the small of his back. Andrew reacted by pulling himself upright, and pulling his shoulders back. Immediately the tit clamps tore into his tits, and his balls were crushed as the cock ring pulled up on them trying to move upward. As the group of cons moved down the hallways, they were joined by others from other parts of the jail. Andrew noticed that there was a great variety in the chaining of the prisoners. Some had on leg and wrist shackles as he did, and those who were shackled had a variety of chain sizes. Some had only wrist or leg shackles, but not both, and some did not appear to have anything but their stripped uniform to keep them in line. However, Andrew wondered how many, like himself, had little extras attached where they could be encouraged to give enthusiastic service. Once he had climbed into the truck that he had been led to and the truck was full, and chain was passed through one of the "D" rings on all of their collars, and they were locked to the truck as well as to each other. Andrew mentally thought that 24 hours earlier he was having breakfast, and reading a story about how convicts were treated in Australia. It was a story of tormenting cons. Now he was living that story in the good ol' US of A.