Thanks to the many who have written comments. They are much appreciated. A sepcial thanks to White Collar for editing. Hope all you engoy part 2.
THE FARM Part2
Kevin lead the way this time out of the training room, and on the way out Andrew noticed that the walls were thick and soundproofed. No wonder that he had heard nothing of the screams and sounds of torture inside the barn, and certainly nothing would escape outside the barn. Andrew stole one fast glance back at the training scene, and this time noticing that other naked prisoner slaves were chained to the wall, hanging from chains from the ceiling of the training chamber, and in various dungeon devices like saw horses and slings. This place could provide enough variety that a slave trainer would not have to use the same exact device twice in many days he thought. Imagining himself in some of those devices, which he recognized from the magazines he read, and some whose use he could only fantasize about, caused another rise and drip from his cock. Andrew could not remember a time that his cock had been hard so long, deflated just a little only to reharden again, and drool again and again. Had he been naked as he liked, and to lie on his own bed and beat off, he would have guessed that his little prick would have spouted many times, and begun to be rubbed raw. "Well," Andrew though, "this was one great idea. I'll have enough jerk off images to keep me happy for months."
When the door had been closed, and Kevin again locked it, Andrew looked over at the smiling Kevin. Kevin said "I'm glad you've come out prof." Andrew winced a bit at the familiarity, but the wet front on his slacks didn't allow too much room for professorial superciliousness. "I'm also glad I figured out the economics you REALLY wanted to see," Kevin added. All this time they were walking through the barn toward the back door. Kevin pressed a button on the wall, and this door slowly opened to reveal a series of trails, and to his right, a trail leading to an oval racetrack.
Right in front of them was his cart with a truly magnificent black male animal hitched up in front. His pony was not standing upright. Its waist harness was attached to the shafts of the cart. Around the pony's neck was a collar, which went not only around its neck but also under and around both armpits. From this device other attachments to the shafts were made, and the pony was definitely attached to the cart, and there was no way it could release itself with its hands immobilized in front of it. The reins went from the bit down through guides on the neck harness and then through more guides on the waist harness, and then into the cart.
Kevin invited Andrew into the driver's seat. "God what a view," Andrew almost audibly gasped as he looked over the back of his pony, and noticed that the pony's head was also pulled back and up by a leather strap from the back of its head harness to the neck harness device. "Having the neck up like that would have to be uncomfortable," Andrew thought, "but that'll be all the more fun for me." Finally Andrew looked at the tail on his pony and the powerful thigh and glute muscles which sort of quivered in readiness. The tail came out of the harness facing up, and so the tail was elevated and a bit away from the ass crack. Andrew could see the shaved and exposed asshole right in front of him, and in a holder near his right hand the plunger, as Kevin had called it.
"I've had it greased for you," Kevin said. Andrew noticed that the pony's head moved ever so slightly at hearing this information. Clearly ponies were used and lived as animals but you had the added torture of knowing you could say things about them and the animal would understand, but be totally helpless to react in any but the smallest of ways. "WHAT POWER!" Andrew thought. It was better than verbally having fun with jocks in a class. He couldn't resist and so he said "Could you make sure that the pepper is really strong in the mixture. I may never be in this situation again, and I want to be sure that I have run this pony as fast as it will go." Andrew could not realize that a malicious little smile was crossing his lips as he said these words. Again the smallest reaction in a little more quivering of the ass, and perhaps some movement around those quite noticeable asslips. ""Don't worry," Kevin said also enjoying the fact that his words were causing two reactions he was enjoying watching. "I ordered the strongest dose for you in anticipation that you would want to make sure the pony remembered your efforts in driving it to excellence."
Andrew was completely intoxicated by the smell of the being harnessed in front of him and the perspiration forming on its body giving it a sheen and a sweet smell of fear. Otherwise, he might have noted that Kevin's words were chosen carefully. It was a not too different paraphrase of what he said when he was asking questions and making those jocks sweat with public humiliation of their lack of verbal, analytical, and writing skills. His phrase was "Sometimes you have to hurt and sweat to learn. A good professor will force you to be uncomfortable to force you to grow." This phrase was always delivered with the superior smirk, which would infuriate the victims under his power and in the grasp of his merciless attack on their self confidence. Kevin remembered those times, but his old professor was so into sniffing the smell of the fear of his totally helpless victim, and clearly enjoying the view of that powerful ass and legs, that he was paying no attention at all.
"Horses and ponies are dumb beasts" Kevin then said, showing he too knew how to say things that a thinking dumb beast would feel the sting of, " and so you have to tell them everything to do. A little slap of the reins will be the 'go' signal. The rider's quirt or the buggy whip are the accelerator and the passing gear, and finally the plunger is a supercharger. Pull on the side and the animal will turn somewhat in relation to the amount of pull on the side. You might have somewhat to get the feel of how far to pull to the right or left to get the amount of turn you want. The ponies have been trained to be very consistent in their turns.
When we get back I'll show you that training area. There are marks on the reins so that the trainer is always pulling almost the same exact amount, and there are marks on ground of the training area, which I am sure you can understand by the way that the heads are cinched up, the pony itself can not see. However after enough repetitions, a pony will follow a certain circle with each amount of pull. They have progressively unpleasant experiences until this perfection is achieved. Then every month each pony receives a skills test in this and other pony behaviors. A failure to pass means punishment and remedial training, which is done with heavy harness, electricity, and barbed whips. No pony having experienced remediation once ever wants to do it again. Finally pull back on both reins at the same time, and that is the stop signal.
You'll probably have to practice a bit. It's a bit like learning to drive a car."
Andrew as anxious to begin. Never had he so reveled in the idea that HE was in the driver's seat. The human male in front of him in the freeworld could have terrorized him by the fact that he was so much bigger and stronger than Andrew, but here, this powerful human animal was totally under his control. All that power would be slave to HIS will.
Andrew gave the reins a bit of a slap, and the pony began pulling the cart and Andrew straight ahead. Andrew first thought about running the pony into a low hedge directly in front of them, and then decided that he would not do that. He would first show the animal that HE, the DRIVER, MASTER ANDREW was in control and knew what he wanted to do, and then when the animal knew that he intended to make it hurt, require it to run into a shrub or something like that.
The evil smile grew on his lips as he formed his plan of control and suffering. Andrew pulled gently on the left rein and the animal responded with a slight change toward the left. It was not enough and so Andrew pulled harder, and as the hedge approached Andrew was afraid that the score would be pony 1 and Andrew 0 because the curve was still not enough at the speed they were traveling. Andrew decided to let the pony know that if it were trying to make HIM the fool, the pony would pay, and he yanked the left rein hard and fully. Andrew was pleased to see that within the limits of anatomy and harness Blackie's head moved to the left, and so do their direction change dramatically.
The left turn negotiated, Andrew and Blackie went out on the paths, which were paved by the barn, then covered by saw shavings, and finally were just trodden earth. These paths were about 10 feet wide, and so he had chances to keep in the center of the path and still get some feel for the turns. After about fifteen minutes, Andrew was feeling enough confidence to move Blackie out to the track. The little pony cart he was in was certainly not a harness racing sulky, but he thought the racecourse was the place to try speed out on his pony since the course was almost 20 yards wide.
When he brought his pony to the top of the stretch, he stopped the pony and leaned forward and patted that muscle builder rump in front of him. When his hand touched the flesh both animal and man jumped in surprise. Andrew was surprised by the feeling of hardness of the muscles and the warmth that was already in those muscles from what he had already put the pony through. The animal started because it was not expected the feeling of that cold hand on its ass.
Blackie hoped that no one at the barn or any of the guards saw his movement which caused his driver to be thrown back into his seat. If anyone on those saw it, the best he could hope for was the pin prick harness which would itch and scratch and irritate his skin as he worked, and the lead leg weights which would add 20 pounds of weight to each of his legs. However his performance was expected to remain the same.
He knew that any loss of productivity would then in turn receive minutes of electricity through those devilish electrodes that his owners had had the vet put into his ball sack, in the flab of skin on the bottom of his cock, just under his cock slit, and finally two little electrodes inserted under the skin beside his asshole on both its right and left sides.
The electricity torture was done by computer, and he remembered the only time he had been hitched on it. He had been led into a leather and steel tube device which held him in place. And then, as a quiet and deceptively pleasant voice noted, wires were attached to the terminals of all of these electrodes which projected up through the skin. Then after he had been wired, the attendant said in that quiet voice, "You are about to experience as close to Hell on earth as you might want to ever happen. This computed program has been developed by experts with varying intensities of current and in patterns of where the current begins and ends its journey through you that maximum pain will be produced. Once the program is begun you have to live with it, as there is no provision to terminate the program before it ends.
Blackie shuddered again as he remembered how the current had begun so mildly‑ it was just a tingling and then all of a sudden such a explosion of pain as he could not believe nor even describe. He would have screamed to waken the dead except the bit in his mouth prevented any but muffled, anguished cries. He would have thrashed and fled but that his harness and the straps and harness kept him erect and able only to move in inches when feet, yards, and miles were his desire. Blackie remembered again the remark that it would be as close to Hell on earth as he would ever want to experience and how right that prediction was. His body would be wracked in pain, then allowed to renew itself so that it could experience the following burst in full attention and retention of agony. It seemed like years, but finally he heard the sound of a computer bell beeping. His pain stopped. Blackie then thought of how much he was indeed different than when he had first arrived at this farm. He had been one of those many angry young black men that the justice system seemed to take special love at placing in the prison system. After several times in the "justice" system, which Blackie remembered the Richard Pryor line really meant "Just Us" a white judge had given him five to fifteen years. Two years of prison life had made him jump at the chance to leave the prison and find work on a farm. His mind in that prison had imagined working like the farm workers he had seem in movies and on television.
He even had thoughts of an easy escape. He remembered his arrival when his MASTER/OWNER Kevin had watched the twenty of them get out of the prison van, chained but with a new steel welded‑on collar with his prison number on it. He remembered using his prison taught skills of looking and acting defiant as a way of preserving some sense of individual worth, and keeping others from punking him out. MASTER had quickly dismissed the prison guards. The prisoners were nervous, but they were determined not to allow anyone to guess their fear. Several guards arrived with steel shackles and whips.
MASTER ordered "STRIP SLAVES." The prisoners looked at each other. Being stripped and inspected was not a new experience, but being called slaves was. Quickly whips sang through the air. His ass was smacked and even through his prison jeans the feeling was inspirational. No matter what he was called, off his clothes went in a fury. Then naked they were marched to a place where the steel rings were attached to wrists and ankles, and then they were put into a thong like thing, which had a waist band, a pouch, and a strap up the ass crack.
The training began and on the second day MASTER had picked him out, and said "I think I'll make this one into a pony." His training as a pony was so strong and thorough that it was now impossible for him to actually remember his freeworld name. He had accepted now the fact that his five to fifteen year sentence would be for life, and that he was, for the rest of his life, a pony boy and a slave.
All those thoughts passed in a second of surprise. Now the man behind him said "You had better really put out on this track or I'll report that little rebellion, and I bet you'll pay for it. I might even add a bit to the story and make sure you really pay for it." Blackie thought so much for hopes of finding a freeworlder who had compassion.
Immediately he felt a whip across his ass, and off he ran. This new driver had acquired skills fairly rapidly and the rains pulled left at the correct force to go around the curves easily, and Blackie concentrated on making the driver happy. Pain now in running was nothing compared to the certain pain of the punishment, but the driver seemed relentless. Soon he felt the buggy whip on his ass and on his back. Then he felt the tip of the plunger, and tried to summon every ounce of strength to run so fast as to escape its plunge into his asshole.
But plunge into his bowels it did, and the driver even rotated it around to enlarge and rub the compound into the tender membranes inside him. A smaller version of the pain of the electricity was in his ass, and he ran like a demon possessed. After one complete circuit, the reins were pulled back and exhausted he stopped. He was glad the harness held him up; otherwise he might have collapsed.
Andrew was also panting, but his was not exhaustion but lust. He let Blackie rest a moment and then shook the reins to allow his pony to walk back to the barn. Kevin was there, holding a pair of binoculars. "I see you were having fun, prof." he said. "Do you think you have enough information about the benefits of the use of prisoner laborers, both economic and otherwise. Andrew got up, and gave one last longing look at those thunder thighs and managed a somewhat struggling reply, "Yes. I think I've found what I was looking for."
"Well, I certainly hope that sometime soon you'll be here for a longer visit, and perhaps to become familiar with all the aspects of prisoner service." Kevin replied in a voice that might most be compared with a cat purring as it contemplated a wounded mouse. Andrew was in his dream world, and only replied, "Yes indeed, I hope that I will be able to be here and experience many aspects of what happens to prisoner slaves."
"We'll plan on that" Kevin replied, thinking slyly of the old remark that one should be careful for what one wishes...you might receive it.
End of Part 2