Date: Tue, 27 Mar 2007 22:25:45 -0400
From: d.a. w <daw62@hotmail.com>
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.