Thursday, July 12, 2018

Human Cattle, Part Seven

When Julie realized that she had been fucked repeatedly by the kindly old man that used to live down the street from her, much of her former life flooded back into her mind.

She was bent over almost double and bracketed in place, breasts having the milk sucked out of them by an automated machine. Below her was a shiny metal canister that contained the milk coming from her breasts. It was a painful process, and having a stranger come by every couple of days to fuck her hard from behind had been a distraction.

But now she knew this man had been her old neighbor. He had been caught fucking the livestock and was most likely to be fired as a result. But what was going to happen to her?

The answer came that evening, after the last milking cycle. Her breasts had gone dry an hour or more before, but the machine had kept clicking and hissing away, making sure every possible drop was extracted from her body. Her tits and nipples hurt, and she desperately wanted to lay down and sleep after eating her evening slop.

But when she was released, she was dragged in the opposite direction from the sleeping pens. A chain was attached to her metal collar and she was dragged away toward the far exit of the room. The dirt and straw of the milking room floor gave way to cold concrete as they walked into the bare concrete corridor on the other side.

Where are they taking me? Am I to be slaughtered at last? This was a question that always haunted any resident of the Soylent Farms facility; it was, after all, primarily a slaughter house and meat packing facility. Most of the human meat that came here was slaughtered within an hour of arrival and their meat was on store shelves or restaurants within 24 hours.

Julie had lasted for over a year at the Soylent facility by being a breeder, giving birth, and then giving milk for a number of months. Human milk had gained popularity with the general public recently, and its pricing made it a profitable venture for Soylent Farms. It was considered more natural and more appropriate that drinking milk from cows.

Now Julie was no longer to be a milker, apparently. She was dragged by her chained collar down a long hallway with numerous doors on either side. She could hear the cries and screams of the slaughtering rooms nearby and she once again made up her mind that she was to die. At least it would be quick. Soylent Farms didn't believe in dragging the process out. Line you up, whack off your head or hang you, and done.

They entered a room where live males were being castrated. No anesthetic was used, of course, and these males must have been destined for some other purpose, since their testicles were being harvested for the market, but they were left alive.

Julie shuddered at the screams of the males. The process was fast. Young men, apparently fresh from the street, were hung upside down with their legs spread on a track. They slid along a track into the white tiled room, where a Soylent worker quickly tied a string around the base of the scrotum then expertly and quickly, sliced through to expose the two small which globes. Seconds later, a small knife was used to cut the tissue around the testicle and then slice through the tubes leading into the male's body.

The result was two cleanly severed testicles going into a bucket on the floor next to the worker. The screaming male was pushed out of the way and out through an opening into a different room and the next male slid in, the process repeated.

The buckets of testicles showed just how popular they had become with the general public. Like human milk, human testicles were considered a delicacy that was especially healthful.

The buckets of testicles were then dumped into a strainer of sorts, where they were washed and trimmed of excess tissue.

The last step of the process, at the far side of the room, was packaging for sale. The testicles were either put on small cardboard trays and covered with cellophane, or were prepared in another way.

Julie was being pulled through the room, catching glimpses of the process as she was dragged along, but the last image she had was of stacks of human male testicles being skewered with vegetables for roasting.

Sights like this would have made Julie physically ill and perhaps even faint in the past. But more than a year in the slaugterhouse had numbed her sensibilities. She knew she was being taken to a place where her own body would be sliced apart in a similar way. Since she had become a milker, her breasts had grown from rather small to somewhat large. She hoped she would be dead when they cut them off her.

They passed through the testicle processing room rather quickly, though it only took a minute for Julie to see the entire process and understand it.

On the other side of the room she was taken down a short hallway that had racks of sliced and prepared meat on carts, ready for shipment. She was all the way at the back of the facility. The noises of the slaughter room were behind her now.

Instead, they entered a large room that looked like a warehouse. It was cold. It was refrigerated to keep meat ready for shipping fresh. There were bays for trucks in the back and workers loading boxes of meat labeled with the Soylent Farms logo.


One truck was loading cartons of human milk. Julie idly wondered if some of her own milk might be mixed in there.

But on the other side of the warehouse was a wall covered with cages.

The cages contained live, healthy, naked, human beings.

The humans stood at the front of the cages, for the most part. They looked in shock, stunned. Some of the women were crying. A few of the humans were sitting in the back of the cages-- these were the ones that had been at the Soylent facility for more than a few days.

The rest bleated and cried out, as if someone would listen to them. Julie knew better. In fact, she knew that talking could lead to punishment, quickly, or immediate slaughter.

But why were these humans in these cages?

Julie was dragged over to the cages. One cage was opened; a human male attempted to rush out.  The Soylent tender that was guiding Julie let the male run out of the cage, and just pushed Julie in, closing the cage door and latching it shut.

The escapee was running toward the trucks when there was a loud buzzer alarm. The running male suddenly dropped to the ground, writhed for a few seconds, and was still. Two men gathered him and dragged him by his shoulders back into the facility. Julie knew this male would only be alive a few more minutes.

Julie was in a cage with two other women, both of whom were hanging on the front wire of the cage. Julie headed to the back of the cage to sit and await her fate. Clearly she wasn't going to be slaughtered today. She actually felt a little disappointed.

"What is going to happen to us?" cried one of the other caged girls, approaching Julie. "You look like you've been here for a while. Is there a way to escape?"

Looking at the girls sadly, Julie managed to gather words, speaking in a way she hadn't in more than a year. "I will only say this once. Don't talk. The only way out is death. Pray for it. But don't talk."

She then lay on the floor of the cage and slept. She had been giving milk all day and deserved some sleep. The other girls simply sobbed, tried to uselessly cover their naked bodies, and examined the cage for some vulnerability.

Julie watched a rat scurry through the cage as she drifted to sleep. The rat led a better life than she did. In fact, just about anything led a better life than she did, and she prayed she would be sent to slaughter soon.

The next morning things became a bit clearer. The caged humans were fed-- Julie realized the rats had been in the cages eating from the dishes for human food-- and watered. They were sprayed down briefly with water. The humans around her screamed and protested, for the most part. Julie actually enjoyed the flow of water over her naked body.

Then Julie watched what would happen to each of them. One by one, the human cattle were taken from their cages and placed into small, individual cages. These cages were so small the human had to double over, knees against chest, in order to fit. The large cages they had right them were luxuries.

After about 10 other humans were transferred to smaller cages, it was Julie's turn. It wasn't easy to squeeze into the tiny cage. She received a couple of cattle prod jolts to help motivate her, in spite of the fact she was making her best effort.

Eventually, she got in. The cage was so short she couldn't even sit upright, and it was not long enough to lay down, not even with knees bent.

A small but effective padlock kept Julie inside.

The large warehouse was filled with the noise of many humans crying, sobbing, calling out in words, screaming from electric prods.

Julie knew none of it was useful, though tears did come to her eyes. The cage she was in would cause cramps very, very soon and she was leaving the facility that had housed her with at least two female lovers. Other girls in the breeding program, girls she had grown to love in this narrow hell of a slaughter house.

Most of these other humans were fresh. New. They remembered their lives. Julie could remember her life before Soylent Farms, but only as a distant, unreal world that had no meaning.

Before they loaded the cages onto trucks, each human cow had an anal hook inserted up their anus and secured tightly to the cage. This lifted Julie's buttocks slightly and pushed her forward, further restricting the number of positions she could have. It guaranteed all human cattle would be facing the same way in their cage, and be in the same position.

Cages were roughly moved and stacked inside a large truck. She and some of the others were being moved. Some cages went to another truck.

Julie was being transferred to another facility.

Wednesday, July 11, 2018

Sold Into Slavery: Back Home

Stephanie had been away from the Jackson compound for almost a year. Her time pregnant had been much less than that, but she had spent several months as a human milk cow. Apparently she gave more milk than most women and it was of high quality, so she was kept as long as the human dairy could keep her.

But finally, the Jackson household demanded she be returned. She was still their property.

She was stuffed in the back of a van, her wrists and ankles bound securely, her ankles secured to her wrists in a hogtie. Uncomfortable yes. It didn't matter. She was used to being secured routinely during transport. In fact being hogtied in the back of a van was probably the most comfortable way she'd been transported in Malsi.

She was still alive and on her way back to the Jackson's, her home.

Upon arrival Mr. Jackson left the car for a valet to park. Stephanie stayed in the back while it was parked, of course-- she couldn't move. The valet parked the van in a large garage and left. Stephanie lay in the back of the van, knowing something would happen eventually, but she had no idea when.

It came about an hour later when the valet returned and removed Stephanie's ropes. Blood flooded back into extremities that had been pinched and strained and it was difficult for her to move at first. When the naked girl finally hobbled toward the large Jackson mansion, she was taken inside and told to wait in a small room.

There she was joined by two other girls about her own age, Malsi women who were slaves like her. Stephanie didn't recognize them.

"Who are you?" she asked in a low voice. Talking between slaves was allowed but only when not in the presence of males.

"I'm Uvula, this is Caloris," the girl on her right said. "We were just purchased at the market. Do you know anything about this place? Do we need to be afraid?"

Stephanie thought about this. She personally thought the Jackson household was stern, unforgiving and a painful place to be, but then again she had been making progress there when she became pregnant. She actually had good feelings about it, which surprised her. She vaguely remembered being free, and how awful the transition to slavery had been, but she was adapting to being property.

Stephanie had no basis on which to judge.

She shrugged. "I don't know. They are strict and will punish for any infraction. I saw one girl executed and roasted for dinner. I personally have been tortured for days at a time. But if you work hard, it can be OK."

The other two girls looked worried and one began to cry. Stephanie wondered what she had said.

One of Mr. Jackson's wives entered. She wore a silver slave collar and was fully dressed with sensual clothing. Her signs of status impressed all three girls.

"You two, report to the slave commons in the basement. Slave Janet will get you started. Down this hall and down the stairs. Obey her instructions to the letter."

The two girls rose and trotted off, scared of what awaited them. Stephanie looked up at Mrs. Jackson and awaited her orders.

"Stephanie, welcome back. You may not know this but when you gave birth to a son, your status among Malsi women was advanced. Especially a son to someone as important as Mr. Jackson."

Stephanie was bewildered. She had been raped and fucked by a number of different men before she discovered her impregnation and had no idea who the father was. But she was a slave of the Jackson household, and perhaps... that was what Mrs. Jackson meant.

Mrs. Jackson walked around the kneeling Stephanie, examining her.

"You've fared well at the maternity center. Not all women come out of there unscathed... or even alive."

She seemed satisfied. "Go to women's dorm number 2, and find a bed and locker. You will be returned to kitchen duty as head kitchen maid, reporting to the chef."

Stephanie gasped. Dorm number 2 was reserved for supervising women of the slave class. Those with decision making authority, those that held the ear of the males. And she was to have her own locker, able to keep some of her own belongings!!! She had been completely naked and unable to possess anything since her descent into slavery. She had only herself, her body. She might be able to actually have a hair brush, or a piece of jewelry, or even... a book!

She rose and smiled gratefully at Mrs. Jackson. "Thank you, ma'am. Thank you. I shall be the best female in Mr.... "

She cut herself off, remembering who she was talking to. Ambitions females could run into trouble and be disciplined if they made enemies of the household wives. She bowed hurriedly and ran to the dorm.

The dorm was long, but her dorm before had housed perhaps 20 girls, and this one, though it was the same size, had only 8 beds. More than twice the space! And the beds didn't have built in restraints like the old dorm. In the old dorm the women had frequently been restrained to their beds unless they were needed.

She would be free to come and go as she pleased! At the foot of her bed was a small locker-- no lock on it. A reminder that her body and belongings actually belonged to someone else. Stephanie might acquire a few items, but they weren't hers-- they were on loan to her to use as property of the Jacksons.

She reported to the kitchen and began making herself useful.

Along with several other naked females, Stephanie busied herself baking, cooking, slicing, dicing, wishing dishes and anything she could to make herself useful.

There was a low level household slave that did the most menial of tasks, the kind of slave stored in a cupboard or closet. Stephanie remembered she used to be like that.

Stephanie worked hard and she was fucked hard. She was beautiful and attracted men around the household like flies on shit. She'd be working in the kitchen, baking or cooking or doing dishes, and a man would come along, bend her over a counter and ram his cock in her. This happened more than once a day, and Stephanie did not like it, primarily because it distracted her from her duties in the kitchen.

It had been like this before she got pregnant, and frankly Stephanie was a little worried about getting pregnant again. In fact, it was inevitable, given the frequency of men fucking her. True, many simply demanded a hand job or blow job. There were plenty that dumped a whole load of semen in her cunt, though. It was just a matter of time.

It was a worry because she really did not want to return to a maternity center. They were horrible.

One day Stephanie was laying on her back, legs spread and wrapped around the waist of one of the the male mechanics that had come into the kitchen for a snack and decided to take Stephanie for a ride. The mechanic was thrusting and grunting so hard she though he was going to split her and make her bleed, but she knew better than to protest.

Mr. Jackson entered the kitchen and got an apple, then leaned against the wall as the mechanic finished up and left.

"Stephanie, you know if you keep fucking the men like that you are going to end up in a maternity center again. I think you have more potential than just popping out babies. Not that that isn't a good and valuable role, but... any woman can do that."

"Yes, sir," Stephanie said. She had knelt in a submissive posture in front of Mr. Jackson when she had finished with the mechanic. A bit of semen dribbled out of her cunt and pooled on the floor where she knelt.

"You should be wearing clothes. That notifies men that you are not common property to be used at any time."

"Sir. I have no clothes. Am I allowed clothes?" Stephanie was amazed. Only the very upper class women, the wives and some supervisors, wore clothes.

"If I say so, yes. Go to Yvette, and have her get you a couple of good business outfits. I am going to take you to work tomorrow." Mr. Jackson left the kitchen with Stephanie stunned, still kneeling on the floor. She was to wear clothes? And go to the office with Mr. Jackson?

She stood and walked slowly upstairs to Yvette's suite. Yvette was one of Mr. Jackson's wives and managed many of his personal affairs. Everyone knew of her, few of the girls had dealings with her.

She knocked on the door. "Come." was the response.

Stephanie walked in, head hanging down respectfully. Yvette turned to her. "What are you doing here?"

"Ma'am, Mr. Jackson said for me to come and have you give me two business suits. He is going to take me to his office tomorrow."

Yvette was angry. "You pretentious little bitch. You think you have his ear, don't you? I know who you are. You aren't even Malsi. Some outside pig, you will never be trained correctly. Fine. He wants you dressed, I will dress you."

Stephanie knew better than to talk back to one of the wives. Yvette could cause major problems for her, including punishment. Severe punishment.

Yvette took Stephanie down to a room which contained a large supply of clothing that the various wives shared. They searched for a couple of outfits, and came up with some suitable for office wear. Stephanie tried on the outfits, and they fit well.

Stephanie had lost weight during her time in Malsi; she had been worked hard physically and the food was not always plentiful for house slaves. She got scraps when she could. The result was she was lean and hard, with a perfect body. It was easy to find some clothes that looked complimentary on her.

But the feeling of wearing clothes made Stephanie very, very nervous. It had been two years since she had worn a stitch of clothing. The only items she had worn were chains, irons, ropes, harnesses and clamps. Putting cloth over her body made her itch and feel unnatural. She felt awkward and humiliated wearing the clothes.

Yvette had put together the two outfits and hung them on hangers. "Don't wear these until you are ready to leave the house," she ordered. "You are still a house slave."

Stephanie returned to the dorm and put her new clothes into her locker.  One of the other girls in the dorm was there and saw what she was doing.

"You have clothes??? What did you do to deserve that? You suck the old man's dick especially well?"

Stephanie shrugged. "I don't know. He just said he wanted to take me to work."

The other slave gaped. "Wow... "

Another supervising slave entered. "Stephanie. You're up for the fucking room."

Stephanie had not been in the fucking room since her first week on the estate, and was shocked. "What? I.... I am not a breeder any more. I never was! What... how did my name get on the rotation?"

"Dunno," the supervisor said. "Yvette just published a new list and you are at the top."

It became clear. Retribution. Yvette was taking revenge and things could get ugly fast.

The fucking room was a bare wooden room where girls were taken and secured in a way that exposed their genitals and ass. There was at least one girl there, available, day and night. Any man that wanted a quick fuck and sexual relief could go to that room, fuck the flesh before him, and leave. Both anus and cunt were available.

Stephanie went downstairs and was prepared. She lay on a small, narrow wooden platform which was then slid through a wall. Everything from her waist down was exposed to the room, her upper body and head were inside the wall, a dirty, dark, damp place.

Her feet were then raised up, spread and ankles chained into place, making sure her ass and cunt were exposed.

Stephanie lay there on the uncomfortable table for almost an hour before someone came into the room and stuck his cock into Stephanie's ass. It hurt a bit, but that was just part of being a woman in Malsi. Whoever it was finished up and dumped a load of sperm into Stephanie's rectum, then left.

A half hour later, the wooden wall was suddenly removed and Stephanie was slid out. Mr. Jackson was there, looking angry.

"I am sorry that Yvette did this to you," he said to Stephanie, who said nothing. She had simply been obeying, as any Malsi woman would do. She didn't like being fucked in this way, but had long ago accepted it as part of her life. Her body was for men's use, in whatever way they wished.

"For this disobedience, Yvette is to be punished and you shall punish her."

Stephanie's jaw dropped. She had seen slaves discipline other slaves before, but it had always been one of the favored wives or a very lucky supervisor. And now, she was to punish a wife?

"No, no.. Mr. Jackson, I can't..."

His look turned dour. "Are you telling me no?"

"Oh... of course not, as you wish." Stephanie bowed before Mr. Jackson and kissed his feet, a sign of respect that she had learned could be used in many situations. She had nearly disobeyed her owner and told him no, and that was a very serious infraction. She hoped the obeisance would calm him.

It did. He allowed her to kiss his shoes, and then told her to report to the main courtyard of the house at 3:00pm that afternoon.

"I expect you to do your best and fulfill my wishes," he said.

Stephanie crawled off to the dormitory where she lay on her bed. She wasn't hungry, and skipped lunch. She just tried to wrap her mind around the fact she was to be the one to punish Yvette. One of the Jackson wives.

The time came and she rose and reported to the inner courtyard, a large park-like center of the house. The entire household of slaves had been brought to watch the discipline, which made Stephanie even more nervous and afraid. She came forward and the other women parted for her, letting her progress to the center.

Yvette Jackson was chained to two large columns in the garden, sweating in the heat. She had probably been there for a while, and was sagging a bit.

Mr. Jackson's son approached Stephanie and handed her a large, flexible, leather bullwhip.

"Twenty lashes," he said then stepped back out of the way of where the whip would fly.

Stephanie felt the weight of the whip. She had been whipped many times herself, and it was an agonizing experience. She had never been on the other side. The whip was heavy, and a little hard to control. But she had seen others whipped and knew what the basic actions were. She also knew she would have to do a good job. It was not uncommon that if a certain number of lashes were deemed inadequate, the punisher was given those lashes instead.

Standing with her legs apart, Stephanie drew the whip back and swung it at Yvette as hard as she could.

The reaction was immediate. Yvette screamed and jerked, her entire body convulsing. Tears came to Stephanie's eyes, she knew just what pain the poor woman was going through. But she had no choice, and swung the whip again.

Yvette's screams became louder with each stroke, and her body jerked violently, sagging down with exhaustion. Stephanie kept going, counting the strokes in her mind. Exactly 20. No more, no less. A mistake might mean her own punishment.

The sun was beating down hard and Stephanie was sweating from exertion by the 10th stroke. Whipping someone hard was difficult work.

At exactly 20 strokes, Stephanie stopped and stood to the side with her hands folded in front of her.

Jackson's son retrieved the whip and declared to the crowd of other slaves. "The slave Yvette will remain on display for one more hour. Go back to your duties."

Stephanie left to go back to the kitchen, tears trickling down her cheeks. She didn't like Yvette, but she knew what being whipped was like and had never wanted to do that.

Late that evening when she returned to the dormitory for sleep time, none of the other girls would speak to her. Whether they were afraid, or resentful and hated Stephanie, she couldn't tell. Everyone knew that punishment and torture were simply the norm for Malsi women. And sometimes, women slaves were called upon to discipline other women slaves. This wasn't new.

The next morning, Stephanie dressed in her new office clothes. The other women in the dormitory looked at her with jealousy but said nothing. She felt a bit lonely. There was a time, back in dormitory 1, that Stephanie had a lover, another of the women. That time was long gone, destroyed by her time in the maternity center. That girl had been sold, from what she could tell. And Stephanie's newly favored status was driving a wedge between her and the other girls.

She reported to the front of the house, ready to go to work. She was met there by the head supervising slave, an older, stern woman.

"All slaves that work outside the household must wear a collar," she said. "This is not permanent, but you won't be able to remove it yourself."

The collar was heavy, not designed for elegance or beauty.

Made of iron, it circled her neck tightly, with little extra room. A small clasp in the back was screwed in place-- there was no lock.

Around the collar were rings, designed to allow various types of bondage. Stephanie had seen other girls with their wrists locked to their collars, or chained to walls.

It was just part of the outfit.

Once the collar was in place, Stephanie waiting in the large lobby of the mansion. Today she would accompany Mr. Jackson to work. She was wearing clothes (though no underwear, of course), and her hair was done nicely.

The memories of her life before Malsi were flooding back to her. She had been in Sales and Marketing, and had a career before she had been betrayed by her sales partner and sold into slavery. While she had adapted and become a Malsi slave, standing there in the entryway wearing business clothes brought back solid memories of her former life.

"Ah. Stephanie. Come along. We will be going to the branch office in Narhet."

Mr. Jackson attached a leash to Stephanie and guided her to the back seat of the car. A male driver took off with the two of them. Stephanie's leash was wrapped around a handle in the back, but not locked.

"Do you remember your first day as a slave?" Mr. Jackson asked Stephanie.

Stephanie nodded, thinking back. She had been restrained tightly and thrown in the trunk of a car after the slave auction. Her ride in the dark compartment, naked and alone to an unknown fate, and been terrifying.

When she arrived and taken to the lower levels of the Jackson compound she had been tortured and disciplined until she learned to behave as a true Malsi woman-- an owned slave.

"This is the car you drove in. You were back in the trunk, just back there. Quite a bit different, eh?"

"Yes sir." Stephanie said.

"You've come a long way, Stephanie. You are returning to town dressed, in the front seat instead of the trunk, and are ready to begin work at the Jackson Dynamics corporation as a female slave. I'm proud of you."

Stephanie said, "Thank you, sir."

She watched the rolling countryside give way to city buildings, remembering clearly now her first experiences in Malsi.

She certainly had come a long way. And perhaps, she could go further. Who knew what opportunities lay before her as a corporate slave?

Monday, April 23, 2018

Human Cattle, Part Six

Julie slept for some time in the dark concrete cell, recovering from the birthing process. She was bleeding from between her legs, the blood pooling on the metal table below her.

The shots were clearly antibiotics and perhaps something to make her sleep. Human cows were treated as animals, but still had worth. She was not to die yet. They wanted something from her before they slaughtered her for her meat.

She was rousted from her sleep with a cattle prod. She yelped and screamed. A metal collar was attached to her neck, perhaps put there while she slept. Using a handling pole, the Soylent Farms animal tender guided her from her current cell down a long corridor. As was true of all the buildings in the Soylent plant, the smells were horrible. Feces, urine, blood, sweat and other smells all wafted about, some coming more strongly from specific doors.

The sounds were disturbing as well. Cries, the occasional scream, and a bit of moaning and grunting from one closed door. Who knew what was going on behind the doors of the rooms she passed.

Julie stumbled along, still weak from having given birth the day before. Her bleeding had stopped, but she was still tired and sore.

After walking several corridors and moving from one building to another, Julie was pushed into a large room. The room had many high windows, was relatively clean, and there were no screams. The smells were still there, but not as bad.

Spaced out across the room were women. Many women, Julie couldn't count. All of them were tied, chained, strapped to some sort of bracket that held them bent over at the waist. A stainless steel trough below them caught urine and feces that dropped from the women; the trough sloped to a small opening through which the feces could be washed.

Each woman was bracketed hard in place, unable to move.

Their breasts hung down under their bent bodies. Attached to their breasts at the nipple were elongated suction devices. The room was filling with the rhythmic sucking, clicking and hissing of the milking devices, pulling milk from the women's breasts.

Julie was shoved down the row of naked women bracketed into place. She slowed for a moment because she recognized her lover from her first weeks at the farms-- she was bent over, eyes closed, chewing something. Her breasts were larger than they were and their was a can below her filled with an off-white liquid. Her milk.

A stunning electric shock from a cattle prod got Julie moving again until they reached an empty bracket. Two handlers adjusted a bar in front to her waist height then forced her to bend over. Her wrists and arms were strapped into place, then legs kicked apart and ankles strapped in.

When she was done being secured in place a handler moved around to the front of her and took two suction cups attached to hoses and pushed them up against Julie's hanging breasts. They immediately stuck because of the strong suction, which alternated back and forth between her two breasts.

Hisssss.. click.  Hisss.... click. Hissss... click. The suction machine's didn't care whether she was giving milk or not, they just sucked and sucked and sucked on her nipples... elongating them, thirstily demanding that she produce more.

She did produce some, too. Not a lot, but there was definitely milk in her breasts and those suction machines got it out. A steady stream of white liquid was pulled from her sagging breasts and squirted into the metal can below her, making a ringing sound at first, and then a burbling as she was milked dry.

In spite of all the horrible conditions, almost dying at a guillotine, being treated like meat, this act of being tied down and milked dry was the most humiliating thing that had happened to Julie yet. But there was nothing she could do. She was strapped down and the nipple suction kept demanding more and more from her, even when she was completely dry.

The human cow shed was filled with noises, including occasional sobs or cries from the other cows. Julie herself cried for a while, at first from humiliation and later from pain as the suction seemed to try and pull the entirety of her breasts into their narrow tubes.

Several hours later there was noise at the far end of the row of cows. Julie looked over and saw the cows were being released, one at a time and allowed to leave the room. Julie waited her turn, felt the suction being turned off on her milking machine, and was then unstrapped. She obediently followed other cows as they left the long, low milking room and entered another room with a series of strange devices of different shapes and configurations.

Julie was taken to a row of large round wheels, and forced to stand in the middle. Her wrists were strapped to the top of the wheel. A metal prod was shoved up her vagina and strapped in place. She stood wondering what was happening.

It became clear after a while. There was a sudden painful shock in her lower abdomen and she yelped, jumping, and causing the wheel to move slightly. The shock went away.

The wheel stopped moving. The electric dildo in her cunt shocked her again and she took several steps. As soon as the wheel turned, the shocks stopped. So it was she learned-- she was to walk on the wheel, keep it moving. To stop was to receive painful electric shock in her cunt.

After walking for a while she discovered that was not entirely true. The shocks didn't come when the wheel stopped, they came when the wheel slowed down. Each time a hard burning shock hit Julie in the lower abdomen she knew she had begun to slack off and increased her speed again.

The problem was that she could not regulate the speed precisely, and so the shocks kept going as she went faster then slower; and over time she was going faster and faster and faster until she was literally running to keep the wheel going.

Eventually Julie could no longer keep up with the speed of the wheel and simply hung from her wrists restraints as the wheel continued moving on its momentum. The metal dildo continued to deliver shocks and she twisted and writhed, but could do nothing more.

Suddenly the shocks stopped and the wheel came to a stop as well. It appeared that whatever threshold of exercise was required had been reached. Julie hung in her restraints for a little while before being taken down by two tenders that dragged her, feet trailing behind, to a small hole in a wall. There were perhaps 30 or 40 of these holes, all covered with a metal door that was latched in place.

Julie was shoved inside and the door clanged shut. There was no light except for what seeped around the edges of the metal door. The small concrete cell was about three feet by three feet, and four feet deep. Not long enough to stretch out in, she couldn't even sit up without bending her head down.

Julie wondered if this was punishment. She had never been punished at soylent farms, and the only punishment she had seen was when that one girl attacked a guard. She had been hung up with her arms suspended behind her back and left until she was dead. This didn't feel like punishment, it felt more like ... just being stored away.

An hour later food was shoved into the cell on a small metal plate. Standard Soylent Farms feeding mush. Julie ate it eagerly then fell asleep. She was still recovering from giving birth.

The next day the morning meal was delivered, dumped into the plate. She had barely finished eating when the door was opened and she was pulled out, dragged half walking to the milking room, fastened to the brackets bent over with her breasts hanging below her. After a while a tender came by and stuck the suction tubes onto Julie's nipples and the pain and humiliation of being milked began all over.

She was stuck in the milking room all day. The suction stopped for a couple of hours in mid-day. That was good because she had no more milk. It started up later and more milk came out.

Other girls gave more milk, in fact it was surprising how much milk they gave. Apparently they had been in the milking room for a while and their bodies were used to generating and giving as much milk as possible. Julie noticed these women were the ones that had the largest, heaviest breasts. Julie's own breasts were small because she was skinny, but they felt engorged and sensitive because she had given birth and her body thought it was breast feeding.

The suction was left on long after all the milk was pulled from Julie's breasts. Most of the milking girls were gagged in some way, but not all. It didn't matter, there was no talking, just grunting and moaning and whimpering. The suction was always left on long after the milk had stopped, though as the days passed Julie discovered her breasts gave more and more milk. After five or six days she was giving twice as much milk as when she had arrived, and it was still increasing. The more she gave, the longer the suction remained on, encouraging her breasts to give more and more.

Over the weeks her milk production increased until her breasts were constantly large and heavy with milk. She filled two large buckets every day.

The days were routine, just like when she was in the breeding pens. Wake in the morning, eat slop, go to the milking brackets and stay there as the suction pulled milk from her. Then the suction would stop for several hours but the women remained strapped to the brackets. In the afternoon the suction began again, eking more milk from the cow's breasts.

Then there was forced exercise and finally she was placed in the tiny cell and given and evening portion of slop.

Once every two days a bucket of water was thrown into the cell, splashing her all over. Perhaps the Soylent Farms version of a bath.

Julie had plenty of time to think as she lay on the bracket, the milk being pulled from her. She had forgotten how old she was, perhaps still 18... probably more like 19. Time was a blur, the days monotonous and painful. She wondered why they were exercised and then it hit her one day when she observed other milking girl's bodies. They were firm, well muscled. Meat. Eventually, one day, they would all be slaughtered for their meat, so exercise was necessary to keep them active and healthy.

The first variation in routine happened about ten days after she arrived in the dairy. She was laying on her milking bracket between suction sessions, dozing. She suddenly heard something behind her. A shuffling, footsteps, clothing, a clunk.

Then hands gripped her hips. Her legs were already held apart by the milking bracket so she could urinate or defecate into a small trough below her. That meant her cunt was exposed. When the hands gripped her hips she felt a cock pressing against her.

She made a surprised sound. She'd been fucked by dozens of men since coming to Soylent Farms, but it had been months. A male was behind her and somehow she didn't think it was one of the breeding stock. She started moving about, making noises. Her words were failing her, it had been a year since she had used any, but she made surprised and distressed noises.

"Ohhh! Ohhh... nooo! Onnhhooo!!! Ohhh AhhH!"

"Sshhh..." came a voice from behind. "No noise or I will have you sent to the abattoir. Just relax..."

Julie relaxed. This was extremely odd. The first time anyone had actually spoken to her with words in... months. She obeyed. She let the male fuck her and deposit a big load of semen into her before he left. Clearly, she had just been fucked by a Soylent Farms employee.

Her cunt dripped for a while afterward, but was dry by the time she was unhooked from the milking machine and taken for exercise.

Nothing happened for another few days. Then it happened again. She knew exactly what was happening when it came. During the same time, her nap time between suction periods. The same male (she couldn't see him) came up behind her, unzipped pants and rammed his cock home. He fucked her hard, then wiped her cunt and zipped himself up.

Julie, a virgin whens he had come to Soylent Farms, had been fucked countless times by countless males. Another fuck no longer meant anything to her. Still, this seemed odd. Not right.

This happened ten or fifteen times, always the same man at the same time. Always a few days in between.

Then something weird happened. The male had come to her and was fucking her hard, ramming her body and bumping it against the restraining brackets of the milking machine, when another voice called out.

"Frank!!! I didn't believe it when Harry told me, but here you are!!! Fucking a cow!??? How disgusting! What kind of pervert are you???"

The cock was pulled out of Julie's cunt quickly and she heard the male zipping up and stepping away.

"Frank, this is so unacceptable. I mean, forget the bestiality involved, fucking a cow. This has to stop! These cows are fertile, you know that! This one could be pregnant with your piglet even now!"

Julie hung in place and listened.

"Please don't do anything, sir. Don't report me. It's just... just... this one... I knew before she became meat. She lived down the street from me and I always lusted after her. Then I discover her here, bent over, ready for me... I just couldn't resist!"

Julie jerked in surprise. This was a man from her former life? Someone that had lived on her street? She had become so used to thinking of herself as livestock that this came as a horrible shock.

"Mr... Mr.... Mr. Henson?" she said tentatively. The words came unnaturally to her tongue.

"See, Frank? She knows. She knows you, she has identified you, you have taken a cow and totally ruined her. Now she will have to be put down. This is unacceptable. You're fired, Frank."

The two men walked away, the one man begging for his job, the other clearly intent on firing the worker.

Julie wondered what this meant for her. Was she to be made into meat? Was her time finally over? What was to happen now?

Whatever it was, she had no say in it. She was an animal. Meat.






Tuesday, January 30, 2018

Sold Into Slavery: Rescued

Stephanie leaned against the milking frame, her eyes dull and unseeing. She didn't move as the suction cups on her breasts alternated back and forth, suck-hiss-suck-hiss on her two breasts.

She needed to urinate, so the urine came flowing out, spraying onto the concrete floor below her. She didn't even shift her legs further apart. The splatter covered her ankles.

The first weeks on the milking machine had been painful. The suction was unforgiving, relentless. She had struggled, fighting the machine, trying to dislodge the suction tubes. For her troubles she got the reputation of being a problem and was strapped down, tightly. Even her mouth was gagged, causing her to drool constantly.

Milking occurred twice daily, once in the mid-morning and once in the evening just before sleeping time.

Dairy maids, as the women who resided in the long, low building and gave milk each day, spent a total of four hours during the day on the milking machines during the two milking sessions. Those who gave the best milk and were cooperative were allowed privileges.

Privileges generally were time outdoors in an open area for exercise or permission to have sex with some of the other dairy maids. The very privileged were given basic clothing to wear and went to other areas of the maternity center to help supervise women who had arrived and were on their way to giving birth.

Stephanie was not privileged. Unlike her status at the Jackson compound, here she was considered a problem. But she was kept because her milk production was unusually high, though quality was considered average.

The first few weeks giving milk Stephanie's nipples hurt badly. The milking machine had a strong suction and her nipples were naturally sensitive. Eventually she got used to it and ignored the pain, and her nipples were slowly going numb.

The worst part of being a dairy maid was the boredom. There was nothing to do. The food was a mush-paste designed to produce high quality milk, not be appetizing. Because she was not privileged, she spent long hours in a cell chained to a wall. She didn't even have a bed. Being milked was a chain, but not much; staring at the same concrete wall every day.

She thought she was losing her mind, though it came differently than she had thought. Her mind simply stopped thinking. She shuffled from room to room with little emotion, her thoughts were limited, her interest in life diminishing.

The few men that acted as supervisors in the maternity center would come by the milking machines at times, select a woman who appealed to them, and fuck them from behind. Stephanie had been fucked from behind a number of times as the milking machine sucked her breasts dry. Strapped down, there was nothing she could do about it, so she simply lay there and let it happen. There was no way she could even turn and see who it was, so for the most part the men who fucked her during this time were never seen.

Being fucked was the high point of any day.

One day as she was being guided to the milking chamber in the morning, Stephanie's mind cracked. She suddenly bolted, screaming. She ran directly into a metal door with a clang, fell down and then ran for another door which was also closed; the impact also made a loud clang. She sat on the floor like a feral cat, hissing at the other women who were trying to calm her.

A male supervisor came and tried to calm Stephanie and get her to move into the milking room. Stephanie charged the man, hitting her head into his stomach. He grunted and fell down, then pulled out a small stun gun and stunned Stephanie. She fell to the ground and convulsed. When she finally stopped and was simply laying panting on the concrete, she was hauled away by two additional male guards that had shown up.

Stephanie had committed one of the cardinal sins of Malsi. She had attacked a male. She had tried to get away and she had attacked a male in the process. The details of the attack were fuzzy; it wasn't clear she was trying to escape. And she most certainly had not tried to kill the guard. But her actions were technically of the most severe infractions possible.

The governor of the maternity center made his decision the same day.

The next morning several guards came to the cell where Stephanie had been thrown. She had received no food or water and the room had no toilet. It stank of human waste and blood.

Stephanie's breasts hurt because she had not been milked in 24 hours, and there was a constant dribble of milk from her nipples.

The guards grabbed Stephanie and dragged her out, down the hall and into a large room where she was thrown against a thick wooden post, a building support. Sticking out from the vertical wood beam was a short horizontal beam, at approximately the location were Stephanie could seat her ass.

Not knowing what was going to happen to her, Stephanie began crying and pleading, explaining that she had simply snapped, that she would never do it again. That she was a good Malsi female, that she had given birth, had a child, given milk, served well...

Stephanie's wrists were fastened behind the post so she could not move away from it; she sat on the small wood outcropping. As she sat on the small wooden platform, dozens of women were brought in through several doors, all gathering around to look at Stephanie.  Where had she seen something like this before? When all the women were gather to see a woman tied in the center. For punishment. What was the punishment?

When the metal bracket went around her neck she realized what was happening.

It was a garrote. Stephanie was about to be executed, slowly strangled and the vertebrae of her neck ground and broken apart.

Stephanie screamed and struggled. Her legs were free and she kicked and flailed, but it was no use. The metal cuffs that held her arms behind the beam would not yield, and the metal collar around her neck was firm and prevented her from moving her head.

With little fanfare the crank of the neck press began to turn, the screw slowly pushing forward into Stephanie's neck. She felt the point pressing against her flesh, and screamed again, loudly. The device was moving so slowly, and yet so unyielding. The metal plate pressing the back of her neck advanced forward slowly, pushing her neck forward, the folds of her neck bulging over the metal collar that held her in place.

Stephanie's screams slowly reduced to a gurgle, the pressure on her neck and trachea becoming greater and greater. The pointed center in the middle of the plate behind her neck found a soft spot between vertebrae and was edging it's way between them, pressing them apart.

Stephanie continued flailing about, even though her screams had been reduced to gurgles and finally nothing. Silence. Once the pressure was enough to close off her trachea, no air came or went and there was no further noise. Stephanie's kicks and body struggles slowed. Her face was bright red, tongue protruding from her mouth, eyes wide open and staring. Urine flowed from between her legs and covered the small wood seat.

Her struggles slowed and turned into convulsive jerks.

"Stop! Release her! She is property of the Jackson compound and this execution has no right to proceed!"

The man turning the vice from behind Stephanie stopped, puzzled.

"The governor has--"

"The governor can not make decisions for another's property. She is our property and should have been returned to us after the birth. By keeping her and using her for milk production you have committed fraud. If you let this one die, you will also be guilty of theft!"

It was Mr. Jackson, her owner.

Stephanie was barely aware of the voices. She was no longer able to breathe and her head was pounding from lack of blood. Black spots in front of her eyes were expanding and soon she would lose all consciousness.

Slowly, the metal disk pressing her neck into the collar began to unscrew. She still could not take in any breath and the blood was not making it to her head. She would be dead before she was released.

Then the collar was unhooked and the blood suddenly pounded back into Stephanie's head. She dropped limp onto the ground and lay there for a few seconds before suddenly sucking in a breath.  Then another.

Suddenly she was breathing.

And she fainted.

When she awoke she was in the back of a van, chained to the side. The van was moving through the Malsi streets.

She had been rescued by Mr. Jackson and was being returned to the Jackson household.

She was going home.

Stephanie cried in relief and joy. The irony that she thought of her slave position at the Jackson compound as home didn't even occur to her.

Tuesday, January 23, 2018

Human Cattle, Part Five


Julie was dragged down a railed chute much like the one used for channeling the female breeders into their breeding pens on the other side. They left the breeding pens behind and Julie jogged along, being pushed and guided by the handler behind her. It was frightening, she had spent time becoming an animal, slowly losing her humanity in the holding and breeding pens. She was now a creature of routine, understanding little but the day to day events of eating, exercise, mating, and sleep.

The handler pushed her ahead and took a sharp turn at the end through an open gate and they were suddenly in view of the male holding pens.

It made sense that the males would have been held in pens similar to the females, but it was still a surprise. Several pens, each with about twenty males, could be seen. There was the same feeling troughs, the same gates, the same hay.

Julie managed to catch a glimpse of the male pens as she was shoved along, including observing the male bulls that were contained in the pens. She recognized a few of the males she had been mated with milling around inside the pens. In one of the pens, two of the males were fighting, grappling with each other. The rest of the males in that pen watched with interest, making grunting noises.

The look and feel of the male pens was very different from what she had experienced in the female pens.

In another of the male pens Julie saw a male that appeared to be mating with another male. He had mounted the male from behind and his hips were thrusting. The male on the bottom was on all fours, and he had another male underneath him. Julie had difficulty unraveling this scene, who had no idea that males would do this. And yet, she remembered all the times she had stimulated another woman and held them when in her own holding pen. It made sense the males would do something similar.

Julie was pushed along, past the male holding pens and toward the far end of the railed channel. At the end of the channel was an opening in a concrete wall. A door stood open, and Julie was pushed through as they left the outdoor pens and went back into the large building. The building was where she had originally been processed when entering Soylent Farms some weeks before. It was also where the slaughtering rooms were.

The smell of the building immediately struck Julie and she gagged and stumbled. It was the smell of sweat, blood, urine, feces, and who knows what else. Fear, perhaps.

Whatever was happening to Julie wasn't good and she was mentally preparing for the worst. Her best hope was that the end would be quick. She was meat. Her body would soon be cut into pieces and sold as a delicacy and eaten... by strangers. She was meat. She just didn't want to suffer.

Julie was shoved down a corridor, passing several doors as they went. One of the doors was open and she glanced inside. What she saw made her gag and stumble, almost fainting.

The room was a post-slaughter processing room. There were several women's bodies hanging from hooks in different states of being cut apart. Some of their bodies were split open, the bowels removed.

Julie gasped and whimpered, and started crying. The Soylent Farms tender that had the noose around her neck swore and shut the door to the room, cutting off her view. To himself, he said, "Dammit, those guys are supposed to keep the doors shut. No point spooking the cattle, makes my job harder." With a sharp jab from the cattle prod Julie was pushed through the door at the end of the corridor and entered a large abattoir.

There was noise all about. The sound of smoothly oiled motors and scraping metal mixed with occasional thumps and whumps and soft wet sounds that Julie tried not to think about.

All this was mixed with the human sounds of cries, screams, sobs, whimpers, shouts.

Julie's wrists were fastened behind her back, and she was shoved into a line with about ten girls ahead of her. They were in a narrow channel just barely wide enough to squeeze through. Julie tried to look ahead but the channel curved slightly and all she could see was several girls in front of her. They looked clean, which meant they were new. Probably just picked up off the street earlier in the day, and would be dead by evening, served on a platter the next day.

She didn't know it, having lost complete track of time, but Julie had been there for ten weeks.

Some of the girls ahead of her were resisting, crying and trying not to move forward. Cattle prods poked through the fencing on either side of the narrow channel kept the line moving along. Several other girls were moved into the channel behind Julie and she became part of the parade, just a line of cattle moving toward their slaughter.

As she rounded the corner she saw what was going to happen.

Ahead was a strange device. Two poles sticking up about ten feet into the air. A bracket at the bottom. A small table in front of the bracket, covered with blood.

Julie watched as the girl two ahead of her was taken, pushed down onto the table and had her head inserted into the bracket, which closed around her neck. She struggled the entire time, kicking and flailing about, her naked body slipping in the blood that covered the floor and the small table onto which she was pushed. But the instant the bracket closed around her neck a blade attached to the two wooden poles fell with a soft, squishy thunk.

The girl's body jerked slightly and was instantly still. Except a second after the blade fell the table tilted and the body rolled off the table onto a conveyor belt next to the contraption. The body had no head and lolled on the conveyor belt lifelessly.

It happened so quickly Julie didn't realize what had happened at first. When it sunk in, she screamed and lost bladder control, spraying her urine over her legs and the floor where it mingled with other body fluids from other girls.

The girl in front of her was being grabbed and while resisting, was pushed and strapped down to the small table quickly. Julie was at the front of the line and had a clear view of the process once again.

The girl's body was pushed onto the small table and a strap spread across her back, The strap was just attached with velcro, but this was enough to keep the girl's naked body in place for the few seconds the process would take. The girl was sobbing, and making a weak attempt at struggling.

Once secured, the table moved up slightly until the girl's head was positioned below the blade. The bracket was lowered until it encircled the girl's neck. The instant the bracket latched into place the blade dropped. Julie couldn't see it but the blade clearly sliced cleanly through the girl's neck, her head falling off and into something on the other side. Her body hardly moved. The sobbing ended suddenly.

After the blade fell, the device operator unzipped the velcro strap and kicked the table, which flipped up and dumped the newly beheaded body onto the conveyor belt, which landed with legs spread wide, dangling over the belt. It moved, following the previous body through a small opening into the next room.

And then it was Julie's turn. All she had wanted was a quick and painless end and this was exactly what she had asked for. Yet her body resisted. She screamed and pushed and tried to run away from this horrible, mechanical, heartless device. It availed her nothing. She was quickly pushed down onto the table and felt the strap go into place, holding her down, Because she had turned to run away, she was pushed onto the table face up instead of face down; a fact that didn't seem to matter to the Soylent operator.

She was shoved into place and saw the sharp blade above her neck. She had already let go of her bladder, now she let loose her bowels without realizing it. Her heart pounding, her lungs panting, she saw the operator's hand go to the bracket to lower it....

"Hey, Jake, I'm looking for a specific cow," a voice said.

The hand moved away from the bracket and Julie lay staring at the blade, granted a few second reprieve she didn't really want. Her heart was pounding and she wondered if when her head detached, if the heart would keep pounding like this and spray all over.

"Yeah? What?" came a rough voice.

"Cow from the breeding pens, guess her time to get bred was up so she got shipped here, but her last results just came in and she's preggers."

The two men looked at a paper as Julie stared at the blade above her, shaking. She wondered if her head would die immediately, or if she would be aware of it rolling around, and end up staring into some other girl's dead eyes.

"Breeder, huh? Well... Let's check the serial numbers..."

The men looked at a few of the girls in line for the branded serials. "None of these girls even have numbers, they are all new."

"That about the one on the table?" grunted the first voice.

Julie felt rough hands shoving her hips over to expose the branded number sequence on her ass.

"Yeah, this one's a breeder. Check the number.... yeah, this is the one. Just in time, too. She was about to get capped."

Julie almost fainted when the table was pulled back and the strap holding her body in place was undone while her head was still attached to her body. The two men jerked her into a standing position and Julie hardly noticed when the sobbing girl that was immediately behind her was placed on the table next. As Julie was led away from the slaughtering area, she heard the skidding metal noise of the blade descending and the soft squishy thump when it hit the bottom.

And so Julie was saved from becoming meat, at least for the moment. Because she was pregnant. There was something growing inside her belly.

Guided out of the slaughterhouse by the new Soylent tender, Julie trotted along, an obedient animal.

Her new home appeared to be a pen much like the one she had recently inhabited. It was a bit larger and there were about twenty women in it. All seemed to be in varying stages of pregnancy, some large and bloated, others not even showing yet like Julie.

She entered the pen and stopped suddenly, seeing the girl that she had originally been partners with in the breeding pens. This girl had been Julie's partner at night, keeping their bodies warm together and providing some human and sexual comfort, for about a week before she disappeared.

Even so, it excited Julie and she immediately went over to the girl, who recognized Julie and stood, embracing her. The ex-partner was showing quite clearly, and was probably about four months along. She had been pregnant when Julie had first cuddled with her, their naked bodies pressing together for human comfort in the filthy confines of the holding pens.

As soon as they embraced, another women, perhaps five or six months along, approached the two girls. She looked jealous and immediately pressed in to separate Julie and her ex. She put an arm around the ex in a protective manner, and it became immediately clear that she considered herself the girl's partner, not Julie.

Julie's ex shrugged apologetically and waved a kiss to Julie before being led off by the new girlfriend.

Julie sighed and sat in the corner, alone in the strange pen.

The days in the spawning pens were a bit different, as there was no breeding activity. Julie and the girls were given slop to eat once a day. They were forced to exercise once a day as well, just as in the old holding pens. They ran around and were forced to do various exercises in spite of the fact they were growing larger each day, their distended bellies making exercise harder as their pregnancies advanced.

One difference with the spawning pen was the presence of a sort of toilet. It wasn't actually a toilet, more of hole in the ground that led to the sewer pipes. The girls could head over there and squat, aiming their urine and feces into the hole. It made the pen significantly cleaner than the breeder's holding pens.

After a few weeks Julie encountered a new girl that had been thrust into the spawning pen. Julie was more attractive than most of the women there, and this new girl was attractive as well. They became lovers immediately, pairing up and spending nights together. Lesbian relationships had become immediate and normal for Julie. When the only people you saw, and the only people that treated you well were other women, then lesbianism seemed perfectly normal.

Once a week the women were herded into a channel similar to the breeding process before. Except this time, they were pushed into small pens that were used to do brief physical exams. They were weighed, blood samples taken, and they had their vaginas expanded with a speculum for examination. The process was usually quick, taking only a few minutes. The were prodded and shoved and treated like the animals they were. Their bodies were not their own.

Weeks turned into months and Julie's stomach grew. Every couple of weeks one of the women would show signs of going into labor. When this happened, Soylent tenders would come and prod the woman out of the holding pens. She disappeared and would not be seen again.

Julie wondered if these women were allowed to be with their children after giving birth. She also wondered what happened to the children. But she couldn't ask. There was no way to find out. For all she knew, the women were slaughtered after giving birth.

She had only been in the breeding holding pens for ten weeks. As a pregnant cow, she was held in the spawning pens for several months as her stomach grew with the child inside. She and her new partner had sex regularly, and spent the nights with legs and arms tangled together. Their sizable bellies kept them from cuddling too close but they found ways.

Julie found herself losing language. She still could read the words painted on the concrete wall next to the pens, "NO TALKING". But none of the other cows talked, and she learned not to talk. Her mind began to deteriorate, simply living day to day, coping with the simplicity of life as a cow at Soylent Farms. She really didn't have to think. She simply stayed in the pens, went along when she was herded, and focused on her physical comfort as much as she could.

One day Julie's ex-girlfriend from the first week in the breeding pens began to moan, laying on her side and holding her swollen belly. The moans quickly became screams. Blood flowed from between her legs.

After a few minutes tenders entered the pens and dragged the girl away. The screams faded and were silenced after a short time. It was the last time Julie saw her.

After seven months, Julie had been with her current sex partner in the pens longer than any other person. It was longer even than her boyfriend from before being taken as meat, though she barely remembered that life. So when her partner started having cramps and her water broke, Julie was in a panic. She didn't want the woman she had slept with every night for the last seven months taken away.

It didn't matter.

The men came and prodded Julie away. She tried to hang on to her girlfriend but the prods were strong, strong enough they knocked her onto her back and she convulsed.

She came to, and felt the cramps coming in her own stomach. The shocks and fall had forced her into labor as well. She moaned and crawled into a corner, but the cramps came in waves, hurting, and eventually the handlers came for her.

She fought against them, though she didn't know why. They dragged her off, away from the spawning pen.

The next hour was a blur. She found herself pushed into a room with several other pregnant women, all of whom were in some stage of labor. Initially she sat in a row with other women, moaning as the cramps waved over her, then relaxing when the pain subsided. The other women waiting went through similar waves of cramping and moaning. When it got too bad a woman might fall off the bench she was sitting on and lay on the floor, legs spread, panting and crying.

A Soylent Farms tender in a green uniform came in and shoved his hand up the vagina of a woman on the floor, then waved in some other handlers.

"This one's about to pop."

They hauled her into another room.

When the cramps hit Julie hard enough she slowly sank off the bench onto her knees. A Soylent tender in blue shoved his gloved hand up her cunt, felt around, and then called the other tenders.

Julie was taken to another room where she was strapped down to a hard metal "bed". Her legs were strapped down and spread wide. Several male Soylent tenders stood around and watched her as she moaned and screamed from the contractions of childbirth.

She finally began pushing; she couldn't help it. The pain was horrible, there was no doctor there, and she was strapped down immobile. She had somehow hoped there would be a pain killer, but there was nothing. Not even a nurse in attendance, just several tenders in blue outfits, watching her writhe on the table, alone.

When the baby began to come out, Julie pushed and pushed and one of the attendants came over and grabbed it, helping it out.

When it was finally out, the attendants worked on it some, cutting the cord and cleaning up from the mess of body fluids.

Julie lay crying, still strapped to the table, unable to see the baby. She heard it crying as it left the room, and that was the last she heard of it. She never learned its sex, what racial mix it was, nothing. It was simply gone. She had done her job in bearing the child and giving birth to it. Her job was now done.

She sobbed on the table, slowly recovering. After an hour or so she was unstrapped and led out of the room. She could barely walk. Taken to a room with actual beds, she was guided to a specific bed and had her ankle chained to the end. She lay down, discovering the bed was metal with a thin layer of cloth over it, and collapsed.

A tender came over and gave her three shots in her ass, each of which hurt a lot. Julie fell asleep on the metal bed for the next twelve hours. One day of rest after she gave birth was all she would get.


The next day Julie discovered what happened to the women at Soylent Farms just after they gave birth.

Friday, December 29, 2017

Human Cattle, Part Four

The pattern of being a breeding female at Soylent farms changed about five days later.

Each day Julie was herded into individual breeding pens in the morning, and again in the afternoon. It was on the 6th day that she was mated with the same man or a second time.

The male was a muscular (they were all muscular) male with sandy brown curly hair and a kind face. He had fucked Julie gently the first time, something that was a bit unusual. She was used to being taken roughly, pounded until the guy released his semen, then left.

This guy had taken her, it was clear he was driven to like all the rest of the males, but was kind and handled her gently. Afterward, he wrote something in the thin layer of dirt on the floor. His name. "Manny".  Julie wrote her own name next to it. "Julie". He nodded at her.  Then the male entrance door was opened and he left.

Both knew better than to speak, but that small effort to identify themselves as human, with their names, made a huge impact on Julie. Two days later, eight days into her residence as a human breeding cow, Julie was mated with Manny again. He entered the breeding pen, cock raging, and stopped abruptly when he saw Julie.

Julie lay back, spreading her legs and reaching her arms out to Manny, inviting him. For the first time in her life she accepted a male inside her instead of simply submitting to rape. The fucked, and Julie felt a hint of what sex with a male might have been had she not been sold as human meat.

They kissed afterward, then parted, Manny exiting through his door.

Instead of the female door opening, a Soylent Farms tender entered, lifted Julie up and roughly jabbed her arm, causing her to bleed. He had taken a small blood sample, after which the female door opened and Julie returned with others to the holding pen.

Upon returning Julie looked for her companion, the girl she slept with each night for warmth and a bit of human contact. The cute girl that had shared warmth with Julie for several nights and had experimented in the only pleasure available to the girls in this place wasn't there.

Julie waited, watching the girls as they returned from the breeding pens. Her companion never returned. She simply... was gone.

Late that night Julie cried alone, missing the girl that had provided the only comfort in this horrible cattle farm.

A set of two girls that had been cuddling off to the side of the pen motioned Julie to join them. She did, moving over and snuggling in. The three girls didn't have sex but did hold each other, sharing warmth.

The next day, after first breeding session, the pen doors opened and four new girls entered. Julie realized that her companion had not been the only girl to disappear, simply not returning from the breeding sessions. The new girls that were shoved into the pen were replacements.

They were dripping wet, having just gone through the power wash that Julie remembered. Three of them darted to the sides of the pen, afraid and cautious. One girl, a pretty dark blond that was rather skinny compared to the rest of the girls, shouted obscenities to the workers that had shoved her inside the pen, and then approached other girls.

Other cows shied away from this girl. She was acting too aggressively, and kept trying to talk. "How long have you been here?"... "What is going to happen to us?" ... "What's your name, mine is Simone..."

Girls tried to tell her, pointing to the painted concrete wall with the words "NO TALKING". Simone shrugged it off and rejected it. "Has anyone tried to escape? If we get together, we can take those guards!"

She was whispering, but the other women refused to respond, having some experience with what happened when you talked or didn't cooperate.

The next day the girls left for morning breeding. Julie was once again forced to give a blood sample after mating with a new male, then returned to the pens. Simone huddled in the corner, trying to wipe semen from her cunt, using bits of straw to clean herself out. She was muttering angrily, "I will never allow them to rape me again. Never. I am going to escape if these people help or not."

Simone spotted Julie and approached her. She whispered low but clearly, "why do you let them do this? Let's get several girls together, we can stop them. We can take a cattle prod from them. If we work together we can escape! Don't you want to?"

Julie pulled away and joined her group of two other women, huddling with them, frightened by this new girl that would cause them all to end up in the slaughterhouse.

Later that day the gate opened and a single new girl was pushed into the pens, dripping wet, pink skin from hot water and a terrified look on her face. She was tall with long dark hair, thin but with large breasts. Julie rose to comfort her silently, but Simone approached the tender and tried to grab the prod from him.

Julie ran away, not wanting to be close to Simone or the tender. She dragged the new girl with her.

Simone managed to get hold of the prod, which was attached to a belt around the tender's waist, and tried to turn it against the tender. She shoved it in, expecting the tender to jerk and fall to the ground.

Nothing happened. The tender simply looked at Simone, grabbed the cattle prod and turned it around. Pressed against Simone a powerful shock was released, causing the thin girl to convulse and drop to the ground. The tender continued to press the prod against her on the ground, and Simone continued to convulse, shaking and foaming at the mouth. There was the slight scent of burning flesh in the air before the guard released the poor girl and walked out, closing the gate behind him.

Simone lay on the ground, but none of the other girls would go near her. She moaned, drooled, and slowly came around, crawling to the side of the pen.

Julie spent the night with the new girl, cuddling her close, and even kissed her gently. The girl was surprised, but any human contact was welcome in this place, and she accepted the kiss.

The next day the gates opened for the morning mating. Julie obediently moved through the gates to the narrow channel that led to the mating pens, but Simone hung back, refusing to enter. Julie ignored her and went to a mating pen and lay on her back for the male who turned out to be a large black man with a monster cock that made Julie bleed.

He didn't ejaculate quickly, grabbed Julie's feet and shoved them all the way up so she was stretched open as far as she could go, and had to keep thrusting for nearly ten minutes before finally depositing a load of semen inside Julie. It was the most painful of the breeding sessions she had experienced so far.

After the ritual daily blood test, Julie waddled back to the holding pen, her cunt sore and even bleeding a bit from her morning mating session. As passed through the open gain into the rectangular pen she stopped and looked in shock.

Simone was there. Hanging above the pen, her feet about eight feet above the ground. Her wrists were tied together tightly and she was hanging from a pole that extended above the holding pen.

Except her arms didn't look right. She was leaning forward slightly, panting in short, quick breaths as if in pain. Her arms seemed to be behind her, and her shoulders looked twisted and out of place... and there was a large weight hanging from her feet.  Julie could just reach up and touch the bottom of the metal ball where it hung below Simone.

Simone's arms had been tied behind her back before the guards had lifted her up. She was hanging from her arms, her shoulders twisted and dislocated. She had been made an example of.

Julie had no doubt they had made an example of Simone. Normally they would simply have carried an uncooperative girl to the abattoir and convert her to meat. Instead, Simone had been hung up above the holding pens for all to see, to suffer.

Simone tried to speak but was obviously in incredible pain where she hung. The weight on her ankles had pulled her down in addition to the weight of her body, and her shoulders were twisted and disjointed and she could hardly breathe. She cried slightly, whimpering, but the low keening noise she made was all she could muster because she couldn't breathe in more than just a tiny bit.

Several girls in the pen moved away, huddling as far away from the suffering Simone as they could. A couple of girls seemed to shrug their shoulders and not care, as if to say, "she was stupid and deserved this".

Julie huddled with the new girl, and showed her how to fend for her food when the slop appeared in the trough.

Simone slowly dangled above them, swinging back and forth in the breeze, as Julie and the new girl knelt and fed at the slop, hungrily.

The learned it was dangerous to stay below the hanging girl, for she let loose with urine or feces at random times for the next day or so.

That night Julie showed the new girl how to lay together with arms and legs wrapped, and to insert one finger into each other and rub until they felt the pleasure of orgasm. It was the only real pleasure left to the human cows.

Julie's new friend was hesitant to engage in sexual pleasure at first. She had clearly never been with a woman, and had never thought of herself as lesbian. But now... in this place of horrors. It was literally the only good thing about the place. Male sexual encounters were rough, painful, frequent and unpleasant. At night most of the women held each other close for comfort and warmth, and it was natural that they also begin to engage in touching in other pleasurable ways.

So it was that by the second day Julie was having sex with her new companion. They both were filled with semen from the day's matings with males, which rendered their pussies rather wet.

Julie, who after only a week and a half was the expert at lesbian sex, introduced scissoring and grinding their pussies together. As they ground together, stimulating each other and slowly working their way to orgasm, the semen in both their pussies oozed out and lubed their flesh.

The new girl took to this easily, and some of the other women watched and later tried it.

All the girls had constantly wet pussies from the buckets of semen that were deposited daily. It seemed the just as they had drained the last bit they went into the breeding pens for another load of semen. It was virtually useless trying to keep their crotches and inner thighs clean. Most of the women didn't try.

Simone continued to dangle above the pen, her arms twisted out of shape, her breathing labored.

After the first day she no longer defecated or urinated.

On the second day she was breathing but no longer moved or made noise. Her body just swayed in the wind. It was clear she was alive and in pain, but she was growing weaker. Her arms, especially her shoulders, had taken on a purple-black hue, as if all blood had been cut off and they were dying or dead before the rest of her body.

The third day Simone was still. The breeze still moved her body back and forth, but there were no signs of life. She appeared to have died hanging above the pen, watching the activities of the other human breeding cattle below her.

The fourth day Simone's body was clearly dead. Her legs turned purplish blue, from the blood settling downward when the heart stopped beating. Her body remained as a reminder and lesson to the other cows, including new ones that were added daily to replace cows that were removed from the breeding stock.

Simone's body began to smell on the fifth day.

Thankfully, on the seventh day, the body of the dead cow was removed.

Julie had no sense of time any more. She had all but forgotten her life before coming to the farms. Her new life was being bred, surviving the pens, eating slop, and being a companion to her new girlfriend. They had sex at least twice a day now, more out of boredom than anything else. The girl's day consisted of sleeping, fighting for and eating the limited amount of slop that was provided, breeding, exercise time, the second breeding time, once again fighting for slop, and then sleep.

Sex with her companion was usually before the sleeping time, and in the morning after first breeding.

A number of days into her new life Julie encountered the large, rough black male again.

It was worse the second time with this male. He took her twice, in a very short period of time. The first time he shoved her down onto the ground and forced her legs apart, mounting her in the missionary position. He came slowly, and had to ram his huge member over and over again in order to get the semen to spurt out.

The male door didn't open immediately and the black male lay back against the wall of the mating pen, panting from exhaustion, stroking his cock.

Julie, grunting in pain from having her vagina stretched and torn from the violent rape, crawled to the corner and sat down, recovering.

After a few minutes the male got up and came over. Julie held up her hands in protest, trying to push him away. She was torn and bleeding, the blood mixing with a remarkably large amount of cum draining from her stretched cunt. The male ignored Julie's attempts to stop a second rape, and simply grabbed her, lifting her with both hands and rolling over so she sat on top of him. He settled her down on his cock again, and began pounding even harder than ever.

Julie cried out in pain from the violent thrusting of the huge cock.

The male just kept going, holding her hips in place, forcing himself deep inside.

The male door opened and a tender came in, but stood watching the violent fucking still going on in the breeding pen. He seemed amused by Julie's distress and admiring of the bull's cock size and violent style.

When the bull finally ejaculated into Julie a second time, he left his cock inside her as she collapsed on his sweaty body, coping with the pain that seemed to swath her entire lower body. She was crying quietly.

Finally the bull rolled her off of him, got up and left the pen. The tender took a blood sample from Julie where she lay on the floor. A few minutes later the female's door opened and Julie slowly crawled out, unable to walk.

Julie's companion was already in the holding pen and showed concern for the girl. Julie simply lay in the corner. Blood and semen smeared the inside of her thighs and legs. There was no sex that night or for two nights later.

It was perhaps three weeks later that Julie's new companion failed to return from a breeding session. She knew this was expected. Someday it would be her turn to not return from the breeding pens. No one knew what happened to girls that didn't return. It was bit like dying. Girls just weren't there one day. They had passed over.

Still Julie cried by herself when her companion didn't return. In fact, looking around the pen, almost all the girls that had been in the pen when Julie arrived were gone now. They were all new. Julie and one other girl were the most "senior" cows there. She knew it would be her time soon, very soon.

In the back of her mind she thought that on the other side was an afterlife and she might meet and be with some of the girls she had known and had sex with during her time in the pens. Or... it might be hell on the other side. Suffering and death.

Two days later, Julie traveled to a mating pen for the morning mating. She entered and waited on her back for the male breeder, legs spread.

When the male's door opened, it wasn't a male breeder. It was a Soylent Farms tender. The tender slipped a handling collar over Julie's neck and lifted her up.

Shocked at the change of routine, Julie resisted and was jabbed with the cattle prod. She jerked and screamed, fell to her knees but then rose to stagger after the tender as he dragged her from the breeding pen, out through the male door.

Julie was finding out what happened to the girls that never returned.