CHAPTER ONE

The Seduction of Jenny

I am a stunningly beautiful, sadistic Woman with long legs, a gifted athletic body, and the angelic, sweet face of the young Mother Mary in Michelangelo’s statue of the Pieta.   I have always been able to get Men to do anything for Me, often the most ridiculous things. My father was my earliest victim, the first to succumb to My childishly coy looks and pouts. He was the first man I wrapped around My little finger. To the boys at school, I was the cruelest teenage bitch they could imagine in their most feverish wet dreams.   Although I teased their awakening cocks unmercifully and made laughing, whispered promises,  I remained a virgin throughout high school, vowing never to allow a filthy man to enter the Temple of My body, never to allow these dumber than dirt boys to stick their icky, drippy thingies into My beautiful vagina. Besides, I always had girlfriends with tireless tongues to keep Me satisfied.

The idea grew in My early teen years that I could own a boy by controlling his cock. As I matured I came to realize the innate Superiority of Women. I began to see men as pitiful fucktoys and masturbators I could manipulate and dominate to My own benefit, comfort, and luxury. I never dated without being in total control, and on the flimsiest of whims I was quick to laughingly abandon a boy, occasionally leaving him to walk home without a ride. A funny thing happened on the way to Graduation. As My reputation for callousness and meanness grew the boys came courting in greater numbers, and it dawned on Me that cruelty attracted boys like flies to honey. My treatment of them was downright pitiless. Somewhere along in My late teens I began to fantasize about living on a big estate of some sort, or maybe a farm or a ranch, where I would be worshipped by submissive females who loved Me and served by the hard labor of inferior boy beasties of burden. It was just  an incipient dream at that time.

Also, around that time of My life a dark urge started to grow within Me. I thought how lovely to have a boy suffer for Me, and to see the helpless, pleading look in his eyes while I inflicted some undefined pain. The Sadism gestated like a fetus inside of My blessed Uterus. By graduation time I developed a hunger to seriously hurt and torment boys. More than that, I began to fantasize about medieval instruments of torture, of whips and crops, of canes and bondage. My fantasies became intensely erotic the more I toyed with and abused My little dumbnuts classmates. My little girlfriends became so proud of the powerful orgasms they provoked in Me, little understanding it was not their tongues but My own imagination that sent Me into throes of passion. It was obvious to Me, however, that My small town was not a safe place to play out My wet hot sexual dramas of Female Superiority and cruelty to scumbag men, so I went off to an urban University where I could secure more anonymity and many more hapless male victims [chuckle]

After I earned My bachelor’s degree I stayed on at the University as a teaching assistant with a full scholarship toward earning My doctoral degree. I had a student in one of My teaching sections named jenny.  She was a little lost girl. Nineteen years old, lovely to look at with slim hips, ripe lips, and small, delicate breasts, but very unsophisticated. Talk about taking candy from a baby! This baby wanted desperately to give her candy to Me. I wasn’t sure whether I was the seducer or the seduced. The girl found any excuse to talk to Me after class and to come to My office on off days. She was aggressive in a very unassuming way. At first I pushed her away, but she persisted. So, I teased her and drew her in. I touched her hair as we talked in the hallway and her arm when I passed her by. Sometimes I stood so close to her, the poor girl quivered. Her hair smelled so good. Though I teased her and although I was wary of a relationship with a student I was drawn to her. She looked to be a tasty morsel, and I hadn’t felt a submissive, servile female tongue since My high school days. The thought of her face between My thighs made Me dizzy.

It was a Saturday morning in early autumn when I seduced jenny and made her My slave. The air outside was cool and crisp with the first hints of winter, but the sun filtering in through the window made My office warm and toasty.  Knocking at My office door came jenny with some problem, imagined or real, it was hard to tell and quite irrelevant.

“Come in,” said the spider to the fly. Ohh, pardon the creepy image. Perhaps more appropriate and not so ickey: the Lioness to the lamb. Yes, that’s better, predator and prey, huntress and helpless. Lovely images.

The lamb sat at My desk talking timidly, saying something unimportant but with her eyes affixed to the cleavage between My breasts. A golden charm, dangling on a chain between My summer-tanned breasts swayed back and forth as I moved, and Jenny was mesmerized.

“You seem to visit Me so often, jenny,” I remarked, “are you comfortable here in My office?”

“Oh yes, Miss, very much. This campus is such a hectic and confusing place. Everybody’s always rushing around and getting in my face. But I can really relax here when I am talking with you, Miss.”  Her blue eyes tried to capture the moving charm but they kept bumping into My breasts.

“So, you feel safe here, jenny?”

“Yes, Miss, very safe. Thank You, Miss. I hope you don’t mind my visiting.”

“No, I don’t mind at all. It is a warm, safe place. A nice place in which to curl up and relax like a pet kitten in the sunlight. Are you feeling sleepy, jenny?

“Yes, Miss, a little bit.”

“It’s okay to relax here, jenny, because you are safe with Me. You can discard your defenses. No one will hurt you here. Mistress will protect you.”

“Mistress?” jenny asked, a little confused.

“You want Me to protect you, isn’t that so, jenny?

“Yes, Mistress, please protect me,” she murmured as she slipped into a warm bath of soothing relaxation. The tension escaped from her body, her breathing became shallow and she opened herself up to Me. She was a willing and facile subject for mind control and I was an expert practitioner. It is not necessary to go into all the details of the process here, but before long My seductive guidance lead jenny into a light trance.

“When you awaken, jenny, you are going to feel so very good, so alive and vital and happy, and you will feel very good toward Me. You will remember everything I have said to you, and you will be okay with My controlling your mind. You will not be frightened. You will be My brave girl. In fact, you will slowly realize that you love Me. I am the most beautiful woman in the world to you. And you will feel such a growing passion for Me that you will wish for nothing more in life than to worship Me as your Goddess and to serve Me as My devoted slave. Is that understood, jenny?”

“Yes, Miss, i wish to serve You and make You happy.”

“Mistress,” I reminded her.

“Yes, Mistress, i will be Your slave. You are so beautiful, Mistress. i adore You.”

“I will count backwards slowly from twenty, jenny, and you will focus on My voice. Listen to the music of My voice. You will remain enchanted by My voice. From now on, you will always obey My voice. As I count, you will begin to awaken. When I finish counting, you will be wide awake and refreshed and in love with your Goddess.”

The girl awoke, stretched her arms over her head, and smiled at Me. I unbuttoned My blouse a bit more and spread the lapels so she could see My breasts more fully. “Do you like My breasts, jenny?”

“Oh yes, Mistress, very much.” She was a little confused at first by the manner of address. She tried it several times again, “Yes. Mistress,” and again until she was completely comfortable with the concept and it came effortlessly to her lips.

“Do you remember everything I said to you, slave? Am I your Mistress, jenny?”

“Yes, i remember everything you said to me and You are my Mistress,”  She was breathless with the new thought in her head, “and my Goddess also, and i believe i love you. Yes, i really do, Mistress. I worship you.”

“You would do anything for your Mistress, isn’t that so, jenny? In fact, you want nothing more than to be My slave.”

“Yes, Mistress, it’s true. I am Your slave.”

“Come, jenny, kneel before Me,” I commanded her and I spread My thighs to receive her adoring kisses. The Lamb crouched and attacked the Lioness with her tongue in a furious passion, and waves of urgent orgasm overwhelmed the Mistress.

The slave looked up adoringly at her Mistress and confessed, “i knew, Mistress, that You were taking control of my mind, and i have waited for it and longed for it since i first saw You in class. Oh, Mistress, what took You so long? The waiting was so painful, i cried for You. i ached for You. Mind control or not, i would be Your slave, i am Your slave forever, Mistress.”

“Stand before Me, slave, and remove all of your clothing,” I directed. “I own you now, slave, and I wish to see My property. Hereafter, you will always be naked and vulnerable to Me.”

My slave displayed herself for her Mistress. I took her young nipples between My fingertips and squeezed them, gently at first, but then with increasing pressure. I squeezed them hard, deliberately hurting her. She flinched a little and smiled gratefully, reaching down to touch her clitoris. “Don’t touch!” I commanded. I squeezed her nipples hard again. “These belong to Me.” The slave nodded her ascent. I reached down between her spread legs and pressed My hand against the wetness. “And this belongs to Me.” Her eyes closed and she pushed her pelvis against My hand, begging for release. “You are My slave and My slut, jenny. Say it.”

“Yes, Mistress, i am Your slave and Your slut.”

“You are submitting yourself to My total control. You belong to Me.”

“Yes, Mistress, i belong to You totally,” jenny whispered and she knelt on the bare wooden floor to press her lips lovingly against the tips of My shoes. “Thank You, Mistress, thank You.” She raised her face to show Me the tears in her eyes.

It was then and there in that cozy room in early autumn as the afternoon sun began to slide in the western sky, the shadows grew longer in the fading light, and a quivering,  slave stood exposed and vulnerable before Me in her slim youthfulness, that the image of My future slave farm began to crystallize as some rural Queendom where I would reign Supreme, worshipped by adoring young women and served by male slaves as drones and drudges. The sadist in Me reawakened as I began to imagine again the tortures I would inflict on My prisoners. Then, I would be living the dream that has haunted Me since early childhood, the dream of Female Superiority come true for Me.

CHAPTER TWO

Acquiring The Farm.

Upon graduation with a Doctoral degree in clinical psychology I set up residence in Ft. Lauderdale, mainly so I could escape the yearly punishment of snow and bitter cold wind of the Northeast and feel instead the warm breezes off the ocean as I walked barefoot in the sands throughout the year. My slave jenny left her studies to attend Me, of course, because the poor child was so enthralled by My beauty and because she was a natural slave whose identity and worth were dependent upon service and value to her Mistress.

I employed jenny as My office girl, apartment maid and cook, as well as for My sexual amusement. Even after several years the girl trembled with uncontrollable excitement at the mere thought of pressing her face between My smooth thighs. Come, lick Me, jenny. Yes, Mistress. Lick, suck, kiss, lick, orgasm after orgasm.

Life was all well and good, but sometimes a little boring for Me, however useful it was having jenny as a slave and however delectable her young flesh was to My touch, the truth of the matter was that I longed to be worshipped and served by lowly male thingies. I needed to express My Female Supremacy over groveling men.

I needed to inflict a world of pain on male beasties, whereas listening to other people’s whiney problems in therapy became a chore. Some who were legitimately in need of psycho pharmaceuticals stirred My compassion and I referred them to medical practitioners. Some were helped by short courses of cognitive therapy. But too many were drama queens who were beyond My help. The Goddess in Me became bored by psychotherapy as a career.

It became evident that I needed a change. My decision to switch to switch careers to Professional Domination turned out to be much more profitable and certainly more erotic for Me. That may sound unbelievable to you. But look, I really get off on dominating male creatures. That is so Hot! As I told you before, controlling male piggies really makes Me wet between My sweet thighs. I did tell you that. Pay attention when I talk to you!

Of course, I brought jenny along as a dungeon slave, but honestly she became less important as I began to feed on My vulnerable client bitches and fed upon their pain and humiliation. Wow! I really came of age when I released that dark urge of sadism that had grown within My teen pussy. I told you about that too. Remember? Or do you need a thrashing to improve your freakin’ memory?

Well, the boys came and went with their sundry fetish needs – spankees, dressers, pain piggies, boot lickers, toe suckers, and all sorts of submissives. It was a veritable parade of lovable perverts, weirdoes, and very needy male things, and I enjoyed almost every one of them. Some came back frequently for repeat sessions or to try new kinks. They became My regulars, even My friends to a certain extent.

Faithful jenny was there when I needed her to help put a boy in bondage, to pull him up in the suspension hoist, or to beat his ass with a fierce, wooden paddle while he washed My leather boots with his tongue. Sometimes, just for My amusement I would order jenny to suck a boy’s cock and bring him to the brink of orgasm before I threw ice cold water into her face. His erection would deflate and fall from her mouth while he cried out from the shock. Business was good and we had a lot of fun.

But I still was not satisfied. I would never really be satisfied until I actually owned a slave with no strings attached. I mean a male slave. Sure, I owned jenny. She was at My beck and call, always eager to pleasure Me. But that wasn’t the same as owning a male beastie I could abuse and torment almost without restraint, one who would suffer the full  Power of My Superiority.

One night while having a casual glass of red wine and musing on the matter, I decided to place an on-line advert for a non consensual slave – a male thing who would surrender his life to My total control. I thought about that for a long while before I acted upon it, and I acted upon it when the evil hunger grew so strong within Me that I could no longer suppress it. I just had to possess a slave with no constraints, as slaves were possessed in ancient Rome, as chattel in medieval Arabia, and yes even as Africans were tragically labored and abused in the West Indies and the Old Confederacy. I needed that kind of slave. Not black necessarily, it wasn’t a racial issue. No, it was a burning desire to have human property of any color, and only a male property would really satisfy My congenital drive for Female Superiority. Like it or not, that was My fetish.

I placed the advertisement on several internet sites: “Seeking slave with substantial financial assets to worship and spoil a fiercely independent Domina. Be prepared to beggar yourself for your Goddess.” Funny thing about wealthy men; they are more perverse and more easily conquered than the middle class. That’s why many women become wealthy, I suspect. I use the term “perverse” with great fondness, because I certainly count Myself among that tribe. So, if you, dear reader, are a pervert, then do not despair. Celebrate your freedom from conventionality. Especially if your freedom is in slavery. All men should be slaves.

I received a number of replies to My summons for slaves. Many respondents were rejected as obviously useless wankers, but a few gems emerged, a few submissive boys who fervently desired to surrender their boring, worthless, rudderless, and miserable lives in exchange for true fulfillment and meaning as beasts of burden under the yoke of a Superior Female. I marked them as candidates to become slaves of My rural Empire, the worker bees in My royal hive!

None were the one I sought, however. I amended the advertisement with this admonishment: “Be prepared to document your financial situation.” The number of replies trickled down to just a few.

Eventually, I found Myself having breakfast and interviewing Sebastian Cuck as a prospective life slave. I know, you don’t believe that is his true name. Google it if you must, all you doubters, but that is his name, or it was before I changed it to “cuckie” during our interview. Poor cuckie was smitten with his new Mistress from the very first cup of coffee. The boy could not take his eyes off Me until I commanded him to lower his gaze to signal his submission and respect for the Superior Woman before him.

He laid a folder upon the table between us. When the waitress arrived, I ordered a full breakfast of eggs, potatoes, toast and coffee for Myself, and a small glass of water with a single unbuttered piece of toast for cuckie. As I enjoyed My breakfast, cuckie kept his eyes downcast at the lone piece of dry toast. When I finished I said to him, “you may take one bite from your toast and one sip of water. Then push it to the side to be cleared.”

I enjoyed a second cup of coffee after the boy’s toast and water were removed. “you may present your financial papers now,” I commanded. He opened the folder and spread the papers before Me, displaying ample assets in equities, cash funds, and properties, including a home with a beach address and a property near the Florida Everglades. “What is this swamp property?”

“It is a ranch house, Mistress, with a stable, several horses and some livestock.”

I found that most exciting indeed, but in a display of sham contempt I swept the folder and its papers off the table and onto the floor. “Get down on your knees, slave, and clean up your mess,” I ordered the stricken boy. “And while you are crawling around down there you may have the privilege of kissing Mistress’s shoes. One kiss on each.”

Other customers in the dinner watched in amusement as the boy crawled under the table, gathered up the strewn papers, and kissed each of My shoes before I gave him permission to resume his seat. “Why have you displayed your wealth to Me?” I asked. “Do you think it will make you any more desirable as a slave? Of course not,” I fibbed. “I don’t give a shit about all your wealth. I only wish to know the depth of your commitment to surrender yourself to My total control, and to serve Me for the rest of your life.”

“May I make my case, Mistress?” I nodded permission for him to proceed. “I am a true believer in Female Supremacy. I lived it all my life with my dear, departed mother. I long for a life relationship of complete slavery. My model is the relationship between Severin and Wanda in Sacher-Masoch’s Venus in Furs”

“Well that ended rather badly for Severin,” I interrupted. “As I recall, Wanda subjected him to cuckoldry with her Russian lover, and the Russian in turn whipped Severin mercilessly before they abandoned him. And that is your model of a relationship?”

“Yes, Mistress,” sebastian replied, “ I aspire to match Severin’s devotion and adoration of Wanda. It has been my life’s dream to feel that deep, fathomless emotion of love for a Superior Woman, regardless of how cruelly She may treat me or how badly it ends for me. I am driven by the search for Sevein’s great passion. Oh, to be Your slave, Mistress. To feel that passion, to sink to the depths of such submission and depravity for You.

All this wealth I have is nothing if my life’s desire is unfulfilled. I beg You, Mistress, take Me as your slave and property.”

I sighed and looked down at the miserable wretch. To make his desperate plea he had fallen to his knees once again in the cafe, unmindful of the amused and perhaps shocked spectators at adjoining tables. “Your desire is self-destructive, severin. It is near suicidal. Why not simply visit My prodomme shop and play at being My slave?” I asked, testing him.

He was almost scornful of My suggestion, but he remained respectful of Me. “I am afraid, Mistress, that synthetic experience will not satisfy my hunger to be owned, to suffer the romantic passion of a true slave for his Mistress. I cannot accept the artificial experience of a visitor to Your dungeon.”

“It will end badly for you,” I reminded him. “With great pleasure I will take all that you have, treat you brutally and without compassion, which is My own fetish and style, and you will become a miserable, broken man.”

“For love of You, Mistress.”

“Perhaps, severin. More likely for your own twisted narcissism upon which I will feed with great appetite. Are you certain you want to crawl down that road to your ruin?”

“Please, Mistress, I beg You. Enslave me. I will give You Power of Attorney over all my affairs and live happily in my misery, however unreasonable that may seem.

Tears welled up in his eyes as he pleaded with Me to take away his freedom. And I would, knowing that in slavery, sebastian cuck would gain freedom from the agony and torment of his unsatisfied need. It never ceases to amaze Me how driven boys are by their internal slavery, by their need to submit and serve a Superior Female. But I have never hesitated to take advantage of their fetish.

When I consented to accept him as My true life slave, the slave kissed My shoes in an orgy of gratitude. He nearly embarrassed Me, although that is really impossible.

After the scene in the coffee shop, we drove off westward from Ft. Lauderdale Beach to inspect My newly acquired property in the Everglades. Later, I would settle in with jenny at the beachfront condo, but first I had to see My slave ranch.

CHAPTER THREE

Richard’s Ordeal

After i disembarked the jet at Ft. Lauderdale International Airport and exited the security area, i found my driver holding a makeshift sign with my name scrawled on it. As instructed, I showed him my Illinois driver’s license, which confirmed my identity, richard travis, and with just a nod of his head he lead me out of the terminal and across to the parking garage. he was a slight, trim man, this driver, and i noticed inside his collar his neck was hobbled by a locked, polished steel ring.

“my name is severin, sir” he reported as he placed my bag into the trunk of the towncar limo. “i shall drive you to Goddess Natasha’s beach residence and then to the Farm. Please make yourself comfortable in the rear of the car, sir. It is only a short ride to Her Majesty’s residence.”

“Are you a salaried employee?” i asked.

“Oh no, sir, i am privileged to be a life slave to the Goddess.”

“A life slave?” i queried, “Does that account for the steel collar around your neck, and why do you keep calling me sir?”

“i am Goddess Natasha’s slave and property for life. i have committed myself to Her service for the rest of my life. As a reward, i am privileged to wear Mistress’s collar. It is a constant reminder of my status. i call all male visitors and temporary slaves sir because i am the lowliest and most humble of all slaves at all times in Her Majesty’s service.”

The towncar headed north from the airport on Federal Highway and then east across the causeway to the ocean. Driving north again along the edge of the beautiful public beach, we turned into the parking garage of a magnificent four towered condo complex.

Riding up the elevator to the 24th floor, severin instructed me on protocol. “you will assume the submission position at all times when in the presence  of a Female,” he said. “That is, on your knees, your face pressed against the floor, whether tile or carpet, or even dirt as at the Farm, both arms stretched forward, palms down, so the Superior may step upon your hands if She chooses, or press the sole of Her magnificent boot upon the back of your neck. i was so privileged recently to feel the weight of Goddess Natasha’s sharp heel on the back of my neck. i can only wait and long for Her to so reward me again someday soon, i hope.”

severin’s voice was soft with reverence, almost weeping with desire. i had never met such a humbled man. i wondered if that same fate awaited me. i knew i was dangerously enthralled by Goddess Natasha, having seen her photos and having spoken with Her several times by phone. She was an extraordinarily beautiful and dominating Woman. She had that rare quality of natural dominance that you find only in an authentically Superior Female.

i had been searching all my life for genuine Female Authority, and when i saw Her and spoke with Her i knew my search was ended. So, i agreed to a week’s enslavement at the Farm at a very healthy financial cost. But, i reasoned, i was away from Chicago’s bitterly cold lake winds and in the warm gentle sea breeze of south Florida in November, and that was a plus. Additionally, i was thrilled with anticipation of my coming experience. Goddess Natasha had practically mesmerized me during our phone conversations, and i was more than prepared to submit to Her. No, i was breathlessly eager to submit.

we alighted from the elevator into the expansive living room of a gorgeously appointed  apartment. i could see across the room and past an outside balcony to the far horizon where the sea met the sky on this brilliant morning. severin removed his shoes before stepping on the thick carpet, and i followed his lead. At that instant, a beautiful, blond haired Woman appeared from across the room. severin fell to his knees and assumed the slave’s position of submission. Again i mimicked his actions.

“Good morning,” Her voice sang. “I am Mistress Jenny, Goddess Natasha’s personal assistant. You are richard, are you not?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” i replied.

“Very good, richard. you and I will consummate the necessary business transactions before you are presented to Goddess. “Now, kneel up, slave richard,” She commanded. “That’s right, very good. Kneel up is Our command for you to lift your head and torso and kneel back upon your heels. Remember that command. Submission means face in the ground. Kneel up means back straight, head up, always kneeling. And whenever a Superior speaks to you, you will reply with Yes, Mistress. Are you clear about that, slave richard?”

“Yes, Mistress,” i answered.

“Good beginning, slave. Now, you have a cashier’s check for Me and then you will sign the necessary legal documents that will affirm your consensual servitude for the next week and absolve us of any physical or mental pain you will certainly experience,” She giggled wickedly. Saying that, Mistress Jenny placed a polished, steel collar around my neck and locked it into place. Identical to severin’s collar, mine also had three metal rings attached, which were, i would quickly learn, convenient to the fastening of chains or other attachments.

“There! You now belong to Goddess Natasha and to all Supreme Females.” She then attached a leash to the front ring of my collar and tugged at it to signal me to crawl across the carpet behind Her. “On hands and knees, slave, crawl and follow.” i did as commanded while noticing obliquely that severin had not moved from the submission position. his face still buried in the thick fibers of the carpet.

Mistress Jenny lead me to crawl out onto the stone hard tile of the wrap around balcony. “Look at the view, slave. Remember the freedom of the sea and sky. It will be your last glimpse of the free world for the next seven days.”

my eyes sucked in the magnificent view. Then there were papers to sign and a cashier’s check to relinquish, and the business was done. i had consigned myself to a week of toil and slavery at the whim of Goddess Natasha or any other Superior Female who chose to use me. i had given up all human rights and was now, temporarily at least, naught but a piece of property to any Superior, with the option to extend if i so chose at the end of the week.

Mistress Jenny tugged my leash and lead me to crawl across the cruel tiles of the patio and through an open bedroom doorway, my eyes riveted to Her heels, as instructed.

“So, this is our new slave trainee for the week, is it?” It was the voice i had heard in our few phone conversations. “Crawl to My feet, slave,” Goddess commanded.

“Yes, Mistress.” my cock was painfully hard.

Goddess wore a pair of strapped sandals with stiletto heels. “you may kiss My Imperial toes, slave.”

“Yes, Mistress.” Gratefully, i placed long lingering, reverent kisses upon Goddess Natasha’s beautiful perfect toes. i inhaled the lovely fragrance of Her feet and succumbed to a dizzying submission. i was hooked. i desired nothing more but to serve Her Majesty, to become Her total slave.

“While you continue the privilege of kissing My toes, slave richard, you will raise your arms above your head.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Goddess Natasha carefully locked a steel cuff to each of my wrists, which surprised me because severin’s wrists were free of bindings. Like the neck collar, the wrist shackles were heavy, polished steel and adorned with several attachment rings.

“There, now you are My pretty, precious slave, richard. I hope you will profit from the training you are about to receive.” Goddess stroked my hair gently as i continued to gratefully kiss Her toes. my erection was so spastic at that moment, i feared i would ejaculate on the lush, white carpet. “severin,” Goddess called, “take My new little pet to the Farm.”

“As You wish, Mistress.”

And so ended my first real life encounter and submission with Goddess Natasha and Mistress Jenny. As we descended in the elevator and crossed the lobby toward the garage several residents took note of the steel colors and wrist shackles, but none remarked upon them, apparently haven seen the strange sight before.

“That is some beautiful apartment,” i observed to severin.

“Yes,” he said, “it was once mine. I gave Goddess a quit claim deed for it as part of my commitment to Her Authority.”

I was stunned into silence for a moment. Then, “And the Farm as well?”

“Yes, that too,” he replied proudly.

“But, how could you?” i asked incredulously. “How could you give up so much material wealth?”

“What do i need of material wealth? Being Her’s, i am in Nirvana. i have complete inner peace with the knowledge that i am in my proper place in life, serving my proper role as a servant to Female Authority. i am content,” he smiled as we climbed into the car.

The drive westward took us along a ribbon of modern six lane highway before we turned south on old Route 29, the two-lane long spine of the Florida peninsula that traveled the length of the state’s colorful history. We rode past open prairies of tall grass wetlands interrupted occasionally by clusters of palmetto brush and Eucalyptus trees and then westward again along a dry, dirt road that rose up onto high ground.

High ground in Florida is the equivalent of standing on a chair to look across to the western coast of the peninsula. A remote controller in servein’s hand unlocked and opened a steel gate that impeded the driveway. The buildings of the Farm were barely visible through the thicket of trees.

The car stopped at a small shack and severin timidly announced, “i must ask you to join me in removing all your clothing and leaving it in the shack. From this point on all slaves are naked at all times except for their collars. It is required, sir.”

Two very bashful, naked slaves, the polished steel collars weighing heavily upon our necks, we walked the dusty road and left the world of freedom behind us. For severin it was a familiar walk home. For me however, great trepidation troubled the mind about the adventure that lie ahead for me, but my resolve was bolstered by the weight of the collar around my neck, the shackles on my wrists, and the delicious taste of Goddess’s perfect toes that i imagined lingered on my lips.

The afternoon Florida sun can be daunting even in November, and thirst came quickly. we walked for about a quarter mile before the three buildings of the Farm came into full  view. The two-storied house was rare for south Florida but it was a typical “cracker” house with a wrap around, shaded porch built to allay the heat of Florida summers. A stable stood between the main house and a long low barracks i guessed was the slaves’ quarters.

As we arrived at the barracks, a petite woman emerged and pointed Her riding crop at us. She was dressed in a white blouse over tan riding breeches and riding boots. Tanned and beautiful with long blond hair, She commanded us in a soft voice: “Submission.” Quickly, severin and i fell to our knees, placed our faces into the dirt, and stretched our arms to that magnificent vision of Female Authority. She strolled around us in a circle and then kicked severin in the butt. “Go to your chores, slave.” he rose to his feet and rapidly strolled toward the barn leaving me kneeling naked and vulnerable before the vision.

“I am Wardress Dana,” she informed Me. “While you are here I will be your keeper along with Wardress Ebony, who will address you shortly. You will respond to us as you would to any other Female at this Farm – with quick obedience and deepest respect. I hope that is clear.” She turned on the heel of Her leather riding boot before I could answer and went up the steps to the barracks. “you may rise and follow Me,” She ordered over Her shoulder. My cock was thick and throbbing once again.

As i followed Her i recalled how Venus spoke in Sacher-Masoch’s Venus in Furs:

"Don't you know me yet? Yes, I am cruel—since you take so much delight in that word-and am I not entitled to be so? Man is the one who desires, woman the one who is desired. This is woman's entire but decisive advantage. Through his passion nature has given man into woman's hands, and the woman who does not know how to make him her subject, her slave, her toy, and how to betray him with a smile in the end is not wise."

We entered the barracks through a narrow hall sided by two closed rooms. Further in the aisle opened wide and the bare slaves’ quarter was lined with five sleeping cots on each side. A chain and ankle shackle hung from the metal rail at the foot of each bed. Several vertical support columns stood like soldiers down the center of the single aisle. Each post was decorated with a variety of chains and shackles.

Wardress Dana pointed Her riding crop to the first post. “Belly up to the post, slave.” When i pressed against the rough wood, the Wardress attached my wrists cuffs to the sides of my collar and then my ankles to a spreader bar. She attached my collar to a ring on the post, pulling my face against the wood.  So, my neck was tethered to the post, my wrists were shackled to my collar, and my ankles spread apart by the steel bar. my swollen cock rubbed against the wood and despite my awkward circumstance, or maybe because of it, i was about to succumb to the temptation to hump the post when i felt the painful sting of Her crop across my dick.

Wardress Ebony introduced herself to me at that moment. She appeared within my line of sight. W. Ebony was a strikingly beautiful black Woman. Taller than W. Dana and slightly more regal in Her bearing, a Nubian Queen with high cheek bones, pitch black hair in a long pony tail, and a slight smile on Her red lips. She wore the same equestrian uniform as W. Dana, but Her musculature seemed a bit more defined beneath Her smooth skin, what little i sensed of it. Both Wardresses were extraordinarily beautiful and exquisitely contrasting in Their ebony and ivory appearance. i grew dizzy and overwhelmed by their confident, cruel aura which surrounded me and shut me off from any other reality.

“you are at the Farm because you requested to be trained as a slave,” W. Ebony observed as She casually ran Her hands over my shoulders and chest, examining a new property. “In addition to total obedience you will learn respect for Women. you are never to look into the eyes of a Superior,” She admonished me. “Such action is very disrespectful and not permitted. It is taken as a first class offense to Female Supremacy.  Lower your eyes.”

“Yes, Mistress,” i replied breathlessly and somewhat shocked at my cruel station.

W. Ebony strode to my rear and out of my line of sight. “So far,” She intoned, “you have been a good boy. But that doesn’t matter. Even a good and obedient slave does not escape punishment, because you are an inferior species and any Superior has the right to punish you at Her whim. This will be your first lesson in arbitrary punishment.”  So saying, W. Ebony slapped my naked ass with Her riding crop and i jumped at the sharp sound. W. Dana held a thin cane within my line of sight and then rubbed it across my nipples as W. Ebony systematically tattooed my ass into a deep, hot crimson with Her riding crop.

“Kiss the cane, slave” W. Dana commanded, “and beg it to return your kiss.”

“Please, dear cane, return my kiss,” i cried as an especially hard stroke landed on my ass cheek from the riding crop in W. Ebony’s strong hand.

When my ass was burning red, W. Dana stepped behind me and laid on with the cane. That petite, darling, beautiful Woman took no heed of the fact that i was a novice at receiving corporal discipline. She flailed away at my buttocks and the back of my thighs with brutal and merciless abandon.

The pain was excruciating as each stripe was burned into my helpless flesh. The number of strokes was uncountable. While I cried real tears and loudly begged for mercy, the two Wardresses had a great merriment at my torment.

Surprising to me, my rogue penis grew hard and thick against the post which held me prisoner. The more She slashed me the more i grew to love the lady with the cane. I was unable to contain my semen. It erupted in a hot stream against the post and onto the floor. I was astonished that so much pleasure could come from such excruciating agony.

“Oh, you piggy!” Wardress Ebony exclaimed in delight. “you will surely have to lick up every drop of your dick juice.” The Wardresses laughed at me but allowed me respite while warning i was in for a long night of initiation to my slave life.

And so i was left with my neck collar attached to the post, my wrists attached to my collar, my legs spread wide, my buttocks on fire from the awful beating they had endured, my cock limp and moist, tears in my eyes, and my mind dazed, humbled and bewildered, to contemplate the week ahead and my new life. The words of the Venus haunted my thoughts through the haze of the lingering, burning pain:  “Through his passion nature has given man into woman's hands.”

CHAPTER FOUR

A Day in the Life

On the Farm each day began before dawn when the rude lights came on in the slave quarters and interrupted the calls and sounds of the startled night creatures who buzzed and fluttered about in the surrounding swamp. The slaves were awakened by the quiet, efficient hustle of four Wardresses releasing the steel cuffs that kept each in his bed throughout the night.

Upon release each slave quickly assumed the submission position kneeling beside his bed with his face to the floor, awaiting the command to make up his bed clothing before going to the bathroom facility and the dining room located in a separate but similarly bare, rustic building behind their sleeping quarters.

Goddess Natasha and Mistress Jenny continued Their blissful sleep as the gentle ocean breezes and sounds of the eternally restless surf danced through the open balcony doors of the high tower condo, and were not at all aware nor disturbed by the predawn rituals of the slave quarter. Later that day They would be at the Farm for a gala celebration with their Femdom guests, but in the predawn hours They were happily asleep.

The slave richard likewise was allowed to remain in bed to recover from the second beating he had suffered from the Wardresses at midnight, when he was caned by W. Trisha and W. Malena, who took their turns at his initiation, while the other slaves watched silently from their beds, reliving their own painful first beatings. Nothing so focused a slave’s mind as the burning sting of the cane laid on with vigor and joyous abandon by young Mistresses.

After a breakfast of oatmeal and dry bread prepared by severin, the slaves were marched off to perform different work duties for the profit of the Farm. Naked they were, except for a wide coolie hat of straw to protect them from the tropical sun, a canteen of water strapped to their waists, the ubiquitous CB3000 constraining their penises, and their own trainers to protect their feet.

Three or four slaves, linked together by a light chain to their collars and surrounded by yapping, playful dogs, followed each Wardress riding high in the saddle of Her horse. The Wardresses were attired in their uniforms of riding boots, tight fitting breeches, white blouses, and derby hats, and each, of course, carried a menacing riding crop.

Each Wardress carefully guided Her entourage of servants away from low lying pools of water for fear of alligators, although in truth, as the waters of the Glades cooled in November the gators became quite inactive and were of little danger until the May mating season. But They were instructed by Goddess Natasha not to take unnecessary chances with the safety and health of the slaves under Their control. Care had to be taken because occasionally a rogue bull gator would rear up from hibernation and snap at any moving creature.

One troop was led to work in the tomato fields. The first winter crop was soon due to provide a small profit for the Farm. Another unit was marched off to the Orange grove where the first fragrant blossoms were just appearing on the limbs of the trees. Another source of income for the Farm. The third went to clean out the barn and stables, while the fourth was lead to the main house, where they would begin quietly to prepare breakfast for Goddess Natasha’s guests in residence.

So, these affluent gentlemen, these lawyers, doctors, bankers, businessmen, and assorted professionals, enriched the coffers of Goddess Natasha not only with the exorbitant fees they paid to experience authentic Female Supremacy, but also with their labor as consensual slaves at the Farm.

The resident Guests to whom breakfast would shortly be served were dominant Ladies from all parts of the world vacationing with their personal slaves on the Farm and taking day trips for shopping or visiting the nearby, world class beaches. The visitor suites on the second floor were luxuriously furnished. The extravagant cost of each Lady’s vacation was borne of course by Her personal slave, and this was an additional source of income for the Farm.

The personal slaves remained indoors all morning with their Mistresses, attending to Their bath and hair and nails and whatever else was required of them. The Farm slaves mostly worked in the hot sun each morning unless they were lucky enough to draw duty in the house or the barn.

At the noon break, W. Ebony chained Her troop in the horse stalls with food and water and road back to the slave quarters to check on the condition of the most recent slave. She was concerned that richard had been beaten so severely She would have to call in a member of the Farm’s medical staff. But, She was relieved to see that though still lying in bed he seemed to be alert and comfortable.

For his part, richard cringed when the Wardress entered the barracks. Was there to be more punishment, he wondered? He wasn’t sure how much he could withstand and he was having some serious doubts about his decision to volunteer to be enslaved at the Farm.

“Don’t be afraid, honey,” Ebony said gently. “Turn over and let Me see your bruises.” She examined his buttocks and the back of his legs carefully, then ran Her finger tips over the ridges of his bruises and blisters. Some of the wounds were still open, so She washed them with a peroxide disinfectant and tenderly applied a soothing gel. “My goodness, baby, you really have some beautiful streaks of red and blue across your ass. I have to tell you it makes Me a little wet to touch them. Oh baby, don’t cry.”

Ebony lay down in the bed and cradled richard in Her arms. At first he tensed with resistance but then he succumbed to the heat and to the sweet smell of Her body. Ebony held his face against the cleft of Her breasts for a long while and they lay together in the stillness of the abandoned room.

“Uh oh,” She remarked after a bit. “I see your cock is starting to get hard. I love to see your little white cock grow and get thick for Ebony. Too bad that’s not allowed here. Nope, I will have to strap that bad boy with a CB3000. Inferior males are not allowed to have erections,” She teased as She stroked poor richard’s throbbing cock. “Only Ladies get orgasms here on the Farm,” She laughed as She slapped his erection. “And I’m going to show you how a slave serves a Lady even though his little dickey is caged.”

Ebony rubbed his cock while he shivered with desire. When he approached the moment of ejaculation, She squeezed his scrotum mercilessly. Her victim let out a long howl of anguish at the surprising pain. Ebony crunched the poor boys balls for the time it took for his penis to go completely flaccid. Then She enclosed it within the plastic rings of the chastity device.

Unshackling his ankle from the rail of the bed, Ebony linked a leash to richard’s collar and lead him to his knees on the floor. With great pain he crawled behind Her and followed Her into the bedroom She occupied at the end of the barracks.

“Submission, slave”

“Yes, Mistress, as You wish.” He pressed his face into the room’s carpet and caught only fleeting glimpses but heard the sounds of Her boots coming off, and then Her riding breeches.

“Up, boy. Come lick your Mistress’s pussy. Come rub your face against Me and smell Me and suck My Superior sex.”

The slave obeyed his Wardress. She pulled his face hard against the soft, kinky hair surrounding Her sex, and with Her guidance his mouth found Her clitoris. He sucked on the hard nub and then licked it gently as She squirmed with pleasure. Then She bade him stop. Slave’s face was wet with Her juice but She was not finished.

“Open your mouth, richard.” The slave obeyed. The Wardress inserted a double-cocked mouth gag and strapped it to the back of his head. One latex cock filled his mouth and he clenched his teeth around it. He knew what She expected of him. She sat back in a chair and slowly pushed the outer cock into Her vagina. “Now you will learn how a slave gives pleasure to a Superior. Fuck Me with your facecock, slave,”

Ebony moaned and grabbed the slave by the hairs at the back of his head, pulling the latex cock hard up into Her vagina, and fucked it back and forth through several orgasms, and beyond, gasping and crying loudly and urging the dildo desperately at each penetration. “Fuck Me, motherfucker, fuck Me hard!! Oh, I’m cumming. Goddamnit, I’m cumming. Harder, motherfucker, harder. Ohhhhh, SHIT! Shit, that’s good.”

All the while the slave gripped the penis gag with his teeth, saliva drooled uncontrollably from under the gag, his neck muscles strained and screamed at him, and he blissfully reveled in the sight and smell of the pink vagina surrounded by the soft, curly hairs, and engorged by the black latex dildo. Smothered in a world of warm, soft, black thighs and belly, he fell in love for a second time in two brief days.

The Wardress was spent finally after twenty or thirty minutes and pleased with fucking the facecock who knelt before Her. richard had had his first great lesson in serving and pleasing a Superior. For the remainder of his stay at the Farm no day would pass without him serving as a facecock for the pleasure of the beautiful black Wardress.

“That was lovely, dickhead. I think you are entitled to a reward for pleasing Mistress. Would you like a gift from Mistress, peckerface?” She asked giggling while removing the cock gag from his mouth.

“Oh i would, Wardress. Yes, Ma’am, thank You so much. i am thrilled that i pleased You, ma’am.”

“Your first goody is to lick this cock clean.” She presented him with the end of the gag that had served her vagina. It was wet with Her juices. he licked and sucked upon it and once again tasted Her sweet sex.

“Here’s another reward, slave. A gift to you for being a good little fucker.” W. Ebony rolled over onto Her belly with Her face against the back stuffing of the chair and Her long legs spread wide. “Come lick My ass, white boy. That’s your reward. Lick My black ass real good with your nasty slave tongue.”

Without hesitation, richard pressed his face against the crack between the Wardress’s ass cheeks and thrust his tongue hard against Her sphincter, lapping at it eagerly. For a long while he licked and sucked Her ass while his penis struggled painfully to engorge within the confines of the CB3000. he licked and slurped until Ebony pushed him away.

She led him back to his bed by the leash and shackled his foot once again. Then She laid beside him and kissed his cheek and blew Her gentle breath into his ear and rubbed his nipples. Oh, anguish! the gentle pleasure only brought more pain to his imprisoned cock. “That was so good, sweetheart. I have to go see to the boys I left in the barn. But, honey, you can be sure we’ll be facefucking some more before your week is over.”

The slave grew confused as he watched the Wardress return to Her room to dress and leave the barracks. How could he love and adore both Goddess Natasha and Wardress Ebony? Guilt about the transfer of love and possible disloyalty plagued him. he had traveled to the Farm, after all, because of his infatuation with Goddess Natasha and suddenly he was overwhelmed with desire for the Nubian Wardress. How could he resolve his two loves?

At evening time, after the slaves had completed a long day of hard work, after they were fed and showered, there was to be a gathering for dinner and celebration in the main house, but it was not the slaves who would feast and celebrate. Goddess Natasha and Mistress Jenny were enroute to the Farm to party with Their several Guests and with the Wardresses. The Ladies’ personal slaves and the Farm slaves would act as servants and decorations for the banquet, as well as objects for after dinner fun and games.

CHAPTER FIVE

Celebration

I stood before the full length mirror admiring the nude reflection of My fine, young black body. As I did, I deliberately turned slowly about and postured so Lady Constance, who was visiting from New York City, could also appreciate the view. She surveyed My body casually but with no little disguised lust. “You are absolutely gorgeous, Ivory. I envy the way your bubble buttocks swell out so gently and so nicely curved.”

“Thank you, Ma’am. My African heritage.”

“Yes, of course, dear girl, but more lovely than any I have ever seen. I can just imagine My face burrowing between those luscious cheeks.”

“Oh, let’s not get naughty now, Lady Constance. We have to dress for tonight’s party.”

“Just a little kiss, Ivory, I promise I won’t linger now if you will promise to give Me longer access after the party.”

And so it was that Lady Constance knelt on the floor behind me and pressed Her face between My warm ass cheeks for a quick kiss. Meanwhile, Her personal slave knelt in a corner of the bedroom, holding out clothing for Me, his head bowed and eyesight riveted to the floor in front of him. As all slaves, he was a silent servant and blind to the activities of the Supreme Females he served. No more than a dumbwaiter or some other unseeing, unhearing, unthinking piece of functional furniture, he was happy to have the privilege of service.

Lady Constance resumed Her seat in the boudoir chair still smoldering from the taste and smell of My body on Her lips, and snapped Her fingers at the slave. He crawled forward on his knees holding the garments out before him, his head bowed between his outstretched and burdened arms. The slave patiently held that uncomfortable position while I casually admired Myself in the mirror. I smiled invitingly to Lady C and She had all She could do to restrain Herself in the chair. “Darling, I anticipate that your pussy will be the tastiest I have ever licked.”

“Best be careful, Lady C, or I’ll have You as My pussy slave.”

“I assure You it will not be My first experience as such. I find pussy so superior than cock, don’t You?”

At that moment Goddess Natasha entered the room. Lady C rose from Her chair out of genuine respect and curtsied to Goddess. I quickly fell to My knees before Her and kissed each of Her shoes twice to affirm My acknowledgment of Her Supremacy.

“Majesty, how may I serve You?”

“Hello, Constance,” Goddess greeted Lady C, and then to Me, “You may rise, Ivory, and continue dressing for tonight’s party.”

Ladies’ night to party. Tonight was to be the fifth anniversary of Goddess Natasha’s Slave Farm. A celebration dinner and festive activities were planned. Goddess had commanded that Ingrid and I would dress with the visiting Ladies in costume. All of the Ladies would be dressed appropriately in ante bellum, Southern Belle plantation ball gowns. Only Tricia and Malena would be dressed in “gentlemanly” attire in order to more easily shepherd the slaves. They would be the Rhett Butlers to Our Scarlett O’Haras, and frankly m’dear I just “don’t give a damn.”

Pardon My giggle, but it was quite wicked of Goddess Natasha to come up with such a masquerade theme as a Southern Plantation Ball for tonight’s celebration. Bless Her, She wondered if I would be offended. I told Her hell no, as long as the slaves were white. That was a transformation I cherished. The tables were to be turned at last. Truthfully, I loved My role as Black Wardress to these wimpy white male slaves. Oh, and that richard! What a hot facefuck that boy gave Me! I was still aglow from our nooner. Such strong neck muscles. And those hard jaws and teeth! He was tireless with the dildo in his mouth. Yummy. I think he’s a keeper. I may approach Goddess with that request later.

I pinned My long, black hair up into a Sarah Pallin and then I sat on the edge of the bed while Lady C’s slaveboy carefully dressed My calves with white silk stockings and tied them with red ribbons just below My knees. The slave was very careful to keep his vision fixed on My feet, but I gave Lady C a lingering, teasing look at the lips between My bronze thighs. We exchanged smiles as I deliberately spread My legs for Her view and puckered My lips in a kiss for Her across the room.

“Oh, You two are sooo naughty!” Goddess Natasha remarked. “Be sure You don’t leave the party too early,” She laughed. When Goddess was in the room, Her presence dominated every activity.

“Why, where would We go, Goddess?” I asked, feigning innocence.

“Take care, Constance. Ebony is a wicked Wardress. I dare say, You could very well end the evening having Your own ass spanked.”

“Well, I am not sure that would be unpleasant, Goddess,” Lady C giggled, “so long as I get a few tasty licks at the girl Myself.”

“You are such a slut, Constance.” Goddess Laughed. “Don’t say I didn’t warn You.”

I rejected the knee length, cotton britches the slaveboy held out for Me. I would much rather be naked underneath than wear confining britches. I permitted the slave to dress Me in a long, cotton chemise and a whale boned corset, which he laced tightly up My back, and which lifted My breasts quite nicely. However, I waived him off when he scurried back with the hooped ball gown.

“Oh dear,” I said, “I am afraid I will have to pee before he can dress Me in My gown. Will you excuse Me while I go to the bathroom, My dear Goddess and Lady C?”

“Of course,” said Goddess.

“Oh, that won’t be necessary, darling,” from Lady C. “I mean you don’t have to leave the room to pee while I have My very own human urinal right here for your convenience.” Then, Lady C commanded Her slave: “geoffrey, fetch the funnel gag immediately. Don’t keep Wardress waiting.”

“Yes, Mistress.” The slave ran off to do Her bidding. In a few moments he returned with a funnel gag strapped around the back of his head. The small opening of the funnel in his mouth, the slave knelt before Me and offered Me the wide end.

“Wonderful!” I laughed to Goddess and Lady C. as I guided the funnel opening to it’s proper fit between My thighs. It funnel gag served as a  wide-opened toilet mouth to receive My golden nectar. I parted the labia of My pussy and let loose a torrent of Ebony juice. The slave gulped and swallowed My pee as fast as he could.

“Don’t you dare spill a drop, geoffrey,” Lady C admonished the kneeling, desperately gulping boy as the warm liquid flushed into his throat. I had so much to give before the stream finally became a trickle. I nodded to Lady C and She snapped Her fingers at the slave who thereupon removed the funnel from his head, lay it aside, and wiped Me clean gently with a cotton napkin. Upon drying Me, the slave geoffrey held the napkin up as if offering it to his Mistress. Lady C nodded permission for him to suck and chew the damp napkin. “All part of our little ritual,” Lady C smiled fondly at Her slave. “And what do you have to say to Wardress Ivory, geoffrey?”

“Thank you for the privilege to drink your golden juice, Wardress. i am humbly grateful to have been Your urinal.”

Wardress Malena entered at the bedroom door and announced that the pre-dinner exhibition awaited us. We were all to gather downstairs in the Great Exhibition Hall. I should point out that Malena and Tricia were dressed with trousers tucked into their boots, long-tailed gentleman’s coats, and rather rakish top hats tilted to one side of their heads. As Ladies finished dressing in their stunningly gala, hooped ball gowns, they gathered in the Exhibition Hall. Goddess Natasha and Jenny led the way for Lady C and Myself.

We were joined by W. Dana and our other two Superior Guests – Princess Tiffany of Detroit, a vicious sadist and man eater, and TS Mistress Ana from Los Angeles, a statuesque uber-model who much preferred stylish leather than these “grotesque” nineteenth century gowns as She called them. At six feet four inches plus high heels, She had presented a difficult task for slave severin’s wardrobe skills.

The procession of Dommes entered the Exhibition Hall to view what delights had been assembled by the Wardresses Malena and Tricia. The Wardresses bowed low in the fashion of Confederate Gentlemen and swept their hats before Goddess Natasha and the assembled Ladies, gesturing toward the slave “sculptures” on display in the Hall.

The Hall was larger than you would expect given the size of the main house and our location at the edge of the Florida Everglades. I can’t begin to estimate the size of the room that had been built onto the back of the original house after Goddess Natasha gained control of the property.

At the center of one long wall there was a low dais upon which stood a curve-backed chair decorated with royal purple cushions and golden trim initials “GN” on the back rest.

Goddess Natasha stepped onto the dais and seated Herself on the throne chair, which reminded Me very much of an emperor’s chair of ancient Rome. Mistress Jenny stood beside the Goddess on the dais. At the heel of Goddess Natasha’s left boot knelt the slave severin, his face properly flush with the purple carpeting of the dais. The slave had already eaten his meal with the kitchen staff and the medical staff.

A banquet table occupied the long wall opposite to the throne. The table was laden with food and drink for this evening’s festivities. Behind the table stood several of the Farm’s slaves, naked and collared, prepared to serve our meals. The cook’s staff fussed at the final arrangements of flowers, dishes and cutlery.

The slave exhibition – a series of cages and bondage devices - occupied the length of the room between the Throne on one wall and the banquet table on the other. As Goddess Natasha watched with a pleased smile, the Wardresses Malena and Tricia led the three visiting Ladies in a parade past the exhibits they had so artfully arranged. Dana and I trailed along.

One slave occupied each exhibit, and each was, of course, naked except for locked chastity device and locked collar. Each slave was also blindfolded, adding no doubt to his disorientation and helplessness. Dana and I followed behind the parade of visiting tourists – the Dommes, Lady Constance, Princess Tiffany, and TS Mistress Ana, all of whom exclaimed in delight or made rude, snickering comments at the embarrassed slaves on display.

The first display station featured a six foot tall, Macaw bird cage with a slave seated upon a bar stool. His neck collar was attached to the bars behind him. His wrist shackles were fettered behind his back and his legs were spread wide and elevated, each ankle shackle attached to the cage bars in front of him and at a level above the top of the bar stool. The slave struggled to maintain his balance on the stool. “Oh, if the poor boy falls off, I fear he will strangle,” remarked Lady C.

“That would be a sight to see,” replied Princess Tiffany cruelly and hopefully.

The second station was a vertical whipping post ornamented by a bound slave. The slave had a ball gag in his mouth and strapped around the back of his head. The ball gag was attached to the whipping post by a very short chain. The slave’s wrists were shackled at the back of his neck collar and his legs were held apart by a steel spreader bar. “I don’t doubt he will end up hanging by his teeth.” laughed Lady C.

“I love the drool running down his chin,” exclaimed the bitchy Princess from Detroit. TS Ana just ran Her hand in a caress over the slave’s ass cheeks.

At the third station a slave stood confined in a very narrow vertical cage. He was unable to move in any direction. Princess Tiffany reached into Her purse and found a pair of clamps of the cruelest sort. She placed them on the slave’s nipples and then attached them to the wire of the cage. “Oh, I do hope the poor boy doesn’t go limp,” she laughed. “Although, if he falls asleep, these clamps will surely wake him.” No one replied to her taunts.

Station four was a heavy padded table. A slave knelt on the table in a most uncomfortable manner. Iron clamps held his ankles and knees immovable. His wrists and elbows were also clamped to the table top. His head protruded downward through a hole in the table, having the effect of bending him well forward and trusting his naked ass high in the air. All the ladies stopped to admire this “sculpture.” They made cooing sounds of appreciation for the artistry, and broke into laughter when TS Ana cried out, “Boy, would I like to fuck that ass.” She stuck a gloved finger rudely into his butt hole.

Dana whispered to Me, “I have heard from the help that TS Ana has a cock big enough to choke a horse.”

I giggled. “I’d love to see that.”

“I’m sure you will before this night is over, darling.”

At the final station, the slave was standing with his head and wrists locked in wooden stocks. On his back was an inflatable sex doll – a garish, red haired doll with a dildo tied around her hips and penetrating the boy’s asshole. Everyone burst into laughter at this ridiculous effigy. “Oh My God! I am ready for dinner,” Lady C cried, wiping tears of laughter from Her eyes.

“A round of applause, Ladies, to Wardresses Malena and Tricia for preparing such an amusing exhibition,” Goddess Natasha exclaimed as She stepped from the dais and crossed the room to the banquet table. “And yes I agree. It is time to eat and celebrate our good fortune at our Farm.”

All applauded as Malena and Tricia swept their hats low in deep bows of gratitude. Then with a great deal of chattering and laughter all of the Ladies and Wardresses joined Goddess at the banquet table for the feast of celebration. slave severin directed the service of the meal.

The celebration party for the fifth anniversary of the Slave Farm turned out to be a joyous and often bawdy affair as the champagne flowed and the Ladies became even more uninhibited. Princess Tiffany demonstrated Her skills with the single-tail whip on the poor boy attached to the post by a ball gag. TS Mistress Ana exhibited Her large, thick penis for us before climbing up on the bondage table at station four to buttfuck the slave who had his head down into the hole. Lady C crawled under the banquet table to lick My labia and clitoris. I was a bit embarrassed at first but She was so artful at Her task I was able to relax and experience several sustained orgasms without screaming too loudly.

EPILOGUE

After the party, life at the Farm returned pretty much to normal for awhile. The Guest Ladies departed with their slaves and were replaced with new Visitors. The paid attendance by male slaves grew with the passing years. The tomato crop and orange groves continued to prosper and the Farm remained an economic success.

Of course there was continuing turnover in the cook staff and the medical staff, and new Wardresses replaced the veterans. I moved into a luxurious Chicago townhouse and took richard as My personal slave. I permit him to sleep on a cot at the foot of My bed and to serve Me hand and foot when he is not pursuing his career and happily earning lots of money for My account. Of course, I continue using his dildo gag for a good facefuck every morning and night. If his service to Me is very good he is permitted to masturbate before Me on occasion. He pays for each privilege by receiving ten strokes of My cane. After which, his little dickey is locked back into it’s CB3000.

Goddess Natasha took a male lover and he lives with Her at the beach condo as Her slave, of course. Goddess continues to live in the style of a true Female Supremist.

Mistress Jenny spends most of Her time as overseer of the Farm and eventually with one of the new Wardresses who became Her personal slave. Jenny had learned so much in Her service to the Goddess and blossomed into a talented Mistress.

Alas, poor severin, the original owner of the property who relinquished everything in exchange for slavery to Goddess Natasha. One beautiful day in the month of May while the alligators were at the height of their mating season, he walked too near the river and was attacked by a frenzied, bull gator. Only a few pieces of his body were recovered. But I like to think that in the years since he met and served Goddess Natasha he accomplished what many men do not – he lived his dream. A fitting memorial for any true slave.

the end