Date: Sat, 06 Mar 2021 22:56:11 +0000
From: whipped@protonmail.com
Subject: Me and the Arkansas Farmer Part 4

This is a work of fiction. All characters in it are over 18 and you must
be over 18 to read it. It takes place in an alternative America where
slavery is legal and slaves over 18 can be used for sex. The main
character enslaves himself and finds out what it actually means to be
another man's property.

Never do anything like this in real life. Respect others, report any
suspected abuse, and wear protection in real life.

And consider donating to Nifty if you enjoy this or other stories.

This chapter involves crossdressing and dehumanizing of a slave. Sex is
minimal. A lot of it is about character development and some very extreme
stuff happens to a minor character to show how dire circumstances could
be for the main character.

If you want more chapters, let me know.

Me and the Arkansas Farmer

Part 4

The vet turned me to face the stall door. He sprayed some kind of liquid
on my back where it was torn from the whip and then began rubbing
ointment or something on it. He didn't tell me what it was and I was
learning real quick not to ask questions or do anything, but obey.

Then he wrapped my front and back with bandages. My front wasn't even
damaged, but I guess he figured the back was too messed up for the normal
bandages.

The spot where a lash hit my left butt cheek he cleaned, put ointment on,
then covered with a normal sticky bandage.

Then he gripped my hair and said:

I knew you were a worthless slut the second I saw you. Your pretty little
lips were just begging for a big mushroom cock from an old man like me to
split them open. Your wet little tongue crying out for a real man to slap
his dick on it, cream your throat pussy, piss in your belly. Isn't that
right, Caleb?

I froze. He called me Caleb and he had to know I didn't want any of that
stuff.

But I couldn't risk telling the truth.

I remembered Williams telling me all free men were to be addressed as
master.

So, I just whispered, "Yes, master."

He smiled and said, "I knew it. On your knees, boy, do what you have been
wanting to do since you saw me."

I turned around, my back hurting as I knelt on the filthy dirt of the
barn floor.

Then I looked at him.

He was balding. Probably only three or four inches taller than me and at
least a hundred or hundred and fifty pounds heavier. He was wearing a
shirt that his belly stretched out and jeans.

I unbuttoned his jeans and then unzipped them. He was wearing tighty
whiteys so I reached in and pulled his dick out.

He was hard, but only about four inches. I wrapped my lips around the
thick mushroom head of his small cock and began sucking it. He started
groaning right away and fucking my face. His balls were slapping my chin
every stroke.

It only took him about 5 minutes to cum.

There was nothing small about his load. His dick throbbed at least six
times, flooding my throat each time. He laughed as I choked on his bitter
cum.

He made me look up at him open mouthed afterwards and spat on my face.

Then he said, "Keep your slave mouth open and drink your reward, faggot."

And he pissed in it.

A few weeks ago, I was planning for college. Now, I was an animal
kneeling for a fat old man while he pissed in my mouth.

I cried, but I swallowed every drop.


Healey

I waited until the Vet left to fetch the slave. We only had him for three
more days and there was a lot of work to be done.

The little slut did a good job hauling. Grandpa said I could use the lash
on him only if he slacked off, but he didn't. He hauled hay for 8 hours
with only five minute breaks drinking at his trough to keep him from
passing out.

His dick was going to be real sunburned, though. It had to be a hundred
degrees and his skin was turning red as a lobster. I thought about
fetching him some sunscreen, but then figured grandpa would whup me or
worse for wasting money like that on someone else's animal.

When the day was over, I chained the kid back up in the stall and sent
Bobby to Jo-Ann Whimbley's house.

He was back in an hour. My little bro looked at me and said, "I got it
all, Healey, but you gotta pay me back."

I nodded and said, "Dress it up."

Three

I hurt so bad I couldn't move. The lashes on my back burned, but so did
every inch of my skin. I just knew it was going to or was already
blistered from the sun.

I was curled up into a ball on the stall floor, hoping to be fed soon. I
could feel pain in my stomach from hunger.

Then I heard the noise of the stall opening and saw filthy cowboy boots.

It was Bobby. Healey's youngest brother. He was 18 or 19, maybe 5'10, 165
pounds or so. He had short brown hair in a type of undercut. He wasn't
huge built, but muscular in a thinner way than his brother.

He poured some slop in the trough for me to eat, but after only a few
bites he unlocked my chains and was dragging me out of the stall.

He pulled off the bandages and hosed me down. The water pressure was so
strong I couldn't help it. I started crying.

He just looked at me, standing naked and crying, and told me to shut the
fuck up.

Then he soaped my whole body up, even my dick, and rinsed me off again.

He pointed to a bag afterward and said, "Get dressed. Use the mirror and
the makeup, too."

Healey

God damn.

I looked at the slave standing in front of me and fuck if it wasn't
prettier than 9 out of 10 of the cunts I went to school with.

Bobby had bought a maid's costume Jo-Ann had worn for Halloween, along
with the black bob wig and makeup she had worn.

He didn't even look like a faggot anymore. The little city fuck looked
like a real bitch.

His lips were bright red from lipstick and he had black eyeshadow and
eyeliner on. His lips even had a little of that pink shit on them girls
use for some reason.

The maid uniform was cheap and fake, but the fishnets made him look like
a hot porno slut or something.

The shiny black heels even fit him, although he looked like he was about
to fall over.

This was going to be fun.

Grandpa was out like a light, so I called in the team.

Three

I watched as Healey walked over to me. I was still shaking from the cold
water and felt humiliated in this outfit. My lips felt sticky and my eyes
felt like something was in them. I didn't know if it was the eyeliner or
mascara or a bug or something.

He stood in front of me and lifted my chin up, until I was gazing in his
eyes.

He hadn't bathed yet and reeked of animals and sweat and farm work.

He pulled back and belted me across the face so hard I fell in the dirt.

Then he growled, "Get up."

I got up and he did it again. This time on the other side.

He looked at me, again, and I got up.

This time he smiled, gripped my face, and said," You city boys think
you're better than us cuz we live out here and work on farms and clean up
cowshit. But you're all a bunch of worthless queer cocksuckers, aren't
you? All you really want is to be a little bitch for men like us."

He spit on my face and I felt it run down my forehead, over my nose, and
into my mouth.

I heard his zipper come down. Then his hands reached for my shoulders and
pushed them down.

I went to my knees as he half-whispered, "Now be a good little slavegirl
and suck your master's cock."

Healey

I looked at my nut oozing out of Three's ass and leaking down his thighs.
I wiped up as much of my jizz as I could before the football team
arrived.
I swear I could still feel his mouth and cock around my dick. His mouth
had been so warm as he went to my balls every stroke. I had always had to
go easy with girls and they barely took three inches.
And that butt of his.
It wasn't as good as pussy, but better. I had almost got my dick into
Lori Lynn's ass once, but the head had barely popped in when she started
crying and made me take it out. His ass clenched my cock, but like it was
made of slick silk or velvet or some shit like that. And the maid outfit
and smooth skin made it almost like he was a real girl.
It was hot, though, the way he bucked and fought at first and then
fucking jizzed from getting cornholed with my spit running down his face
and sweat covering his body.
No wonder the fucking faggot was a slave.

Three

I looked at the camera on the tripod. It was half hidden in the bales,
but I had seen them setting it up. The middle brother had been secretly
filming everything. The last of the football team was still fucking me,
my body being shoved forward hard every thrust. I had swallowed gallons
of cum and my asshole was sloshing from all their nut in me.
I had stopped crying and stopped cumming an hour or so earlier.
I heard this guy groan and thrust deeper, then hold still, as his balls
emptied up my ass.
Then I watched him get dressed.
Nobody else was in the barn and he knelt in front of me.
He was cute. I wasn't gay. But for a guy he was cute.
The team had come still in their football uniforms. He was #12. He had
shaggy brown hair and a baby face. He was pretty lean and tan, but with
big biceps. He blocked the camera with his body and turned my head to the
side.
And he kissed me. Like I was a real girl and free.
Then he whispered in my ear, so quiet I could barely hear his adolescent
voice, "Thanks. I really fucking needed that, babe."
And then he took off.
And I was alone.

Healey

I thought grandpa was going to kill me the next morning. The vet had to
come out again and stitch up Three and redo his back bandages. He
couldn't work or do nothing the whole rest of the time we had him. I cost
grandpa a lot of labor and he promised I'd pay him back.
I wasn't expecting the tape to come out, though. Riley had filmed it all
and broadcast it on one of those porno sites where you get tokens from
people that translates into real money. We figured we could make some
money to party this summer and be hometown heroes.
We didn't expect the sheriff to see it or for us to get arrested.

Bobby

Grandpa had set us down and explained the options. We were all going to
jail. There was no other choice. We had interfered with and damaged
another man's slave in order to make money.
The only one with a clear out was Riley. I had bought the outfit and
stupid Jo-Ann had sold us out and told everyone it was me who got it.
Healey was on camera multiple times with Three and someone on the team
had ratted him out as having arranged the whole thing.
Only Riley wasn't on camera. He had filmed it, but nobody realized it was
being filmed. He had been back in the hay where it was dark.
Grandpa explained Riley's best hope was if I confessed to filming it and
Healey admitted his part. He said the judge had agreed to no trial and to
issue an enslavement order for me and Healey. Grandpa would then take us
to Oregon, where he said our parents were. Slavery wasn't legal there at
all.
It'd mean never coming back to Arkansas, but we'd be free and without
serving the mandatory five years of prison we'd get otherwise if
convicted.
On his part, he agreed to pay Reddy for the interference and damage out
of our supposed labor.
Now, I was in Judge William's office to make it official.
The judge had always been one of the nicest guys in town. He used to buy
us all ice cream after little league and even gave some of the boys rides
in his sports cars.
He looked at me and Healey and said, "You sure about this, boys? No going
back?"
We looked at each other, thought about mom and dad and Oregon and what
grandpa said and then signed the enslavement deal.
Everything happened real fast then.
Healey and I were tased or something by the guards in the office.
I flopped around on the floor.
The last thing I heard and saw was Judge Williams leaning over me,
stroking my face, and saying, "Your pretty little ass is going to make
your grandpa a lot of money, boy."

Finley

Judge Williams and his cousin, the slave dealer I had worked with, had
helped come up with the enslavement plan. Oh, they didn't make my damn
fool grandsons do anything. But they knew how horny boys were and found
the interference law.
They also knew I could talk the boys into anything.
I had wanted to enslave Riley and keep Bobby as my heir, but Bobby was
the one who went to buy the outfit and the damn girl went to the cops.
Bobby had also been seen hanging out with the football team, so he fucked
himself over right good.
So, Riley got a pass.
His brothers, though, that was different.
I watched as Healey was injected with the GPS tracker with the kill
switch for if he ran. I had sold him in all but paperwork the second that
slave dealer Williams met him.
He didn't even need to be altered. He would be milked once a week for the
next year and I'd get a portion of any sells of his get or the option to
own one of any multiples.
Some queer paid nearly a quarter million dollars for him.
Bobby was a different story, though.
Him I was going to keep.
And he was being altered right now.
The first thing they did was extract his teeth. I had heard about all
those Asian slave brothels where you could get gummy blowjobs and I
figured it was about time I experienced the real thing.
The next thing, I got to admit, I struggled with. I thought about it for
a long time, fighting with remembering him as my grandson, before giving
the go-ahead for them to take his nuts.
I wanted him docile.
They circumcised him after the castration, not even numbing him during
the surgery.
Then they used the slave depilatory to permanently remove his hair. All
of it, as he screamed from the burning chemicals. Head, eyebrows,
everything. I needed the neighbors to not see my grandson when they
looked at him, but chattel.
Then they added the piercings.
I wasn't into piercings, myself, but Williams assured me they conducted
the electricity from the shock collars right to the slave's most
sensitive areas.
He was crying as they pierced his nipples, lip, tongue, cockhead, and the
sac that had held his balls.
Then they stamped his barcode and chattel registration under his chin,
marking him for life as 472391.
The last part I wanted to do myself.
I walked from the observation gallery into the slave processing center.
They had the family cattle brand ready.
I looked at what had been my sweet long haired 18 year old grandson.
He was now stripped naked. His balls had been taken from him. His long
hair was now replaced with a baby smooth head. His foreskin was gone. A
shock collar had been wrapped tight around his throat and sealed.
His nipples and junk were pierced and he was crying.
I thought, "Without his teeth and eyebrows, he really doesn't even look
human."
I gestured and they spread his legs apart.
Then I burned my brand into 472391's left thigh.

Reddy

I hadn't realized how much I missed Three until he came home. I had told
the Sheriff and Judge I wouldn't be pressing charges the second I heard
about the video and the football team because
I remembered being that age. There was no need to press charges.
Not for normal hormone induced shit like that.
Boys will be boys, after all.
Besides, the video had given me some ideas.