Bred Wee, to Serve : Part II

"Oh I am pig, it gives me extreme pleasure to see those stripes
and maybe next time we'll have seven."

She released her breasts and then pinched each nipple hard,
pulling on them for a moment, smiling even sweeter. She leaned
forward to ease the pain and then got a fierce stare. She
cringed and slowly leaned back while her tormenters facial
expression eased as her tits became even more pointed than they
were. She tried to smile at her mistress as the pain increased
until her nipples were suddenly released and the mistress
slapped them hard twice; to one side and then the other.

She fell back a bit but quickly recovered and expanded her
chest thrusting it forward while smiling obediently; presenting
her tits for more of her mistress's sadistic pleasures. She
received a muted yet triumphant smile in return; having
apparently satisfied her mistress's need for total submission
while eagerly volunteering for more pain. Her mistress then
reached for her breasts gripping them lightly with her thumbs
and fingers. Pig 10 leaned forward, pressing her painful flesh
into the grip of her tormenter, while again smiling obediently.
The grip then gradually became vicelike and increasingly
painful as her hands twisted one way and then the other while
she smiled icily. Suddenly she released her and slapping her
tits several times.

"Get up and display your ass again pig," She rose quickly and
presented her sore buttocks, "oh those striped protruding
alabaster globes, umm I relish those pink hues turning red
now, and...oh...that gives me such pleasure. You do... want to
please me, don't you sow?" Her fingernails pinched her ass
flesh in several places and then her soft inner thighs in
about ten places before ordering her to kneel again.

"My mistress pleasure is truly my pleasure, nothing else
matters in my life." She answered as she endures the pain of
the pinching fingernails and then took up the praying position;
doing her best to smile sweetly through her tears but despite
the physical pain she truly meant every word from her heart.
She passionately loved her mistress; there were no other
emotion possible towards an owner in her makeup.

"But now, if you are a really good pig every day and make no
punishable mistakes, I won't see those stripes on your
alabaster skin or witness your honeydew tears. That would make
me very sad."

"Oh my mistress," she sobbed, "only your happiness matters. The pain
of receiving those stripes whenever you wish to see them and my tears
is my life. I don't see why I would need making a mistake to mount the
alter."

"Do you still believe that a slave can enjoy sex?"

"No mistress, I'm very sorry to have been such a fool, Thank
you for teaching me the truth."

The mistress then prayed and ordered her to go the rounds. She
was disappointed and frustrated as she presented her ass and
belly to her sister slaves. The pain she could deal with; that
was part of a natural law for slaves but there was no sex, no
closure. She needed to serve someone sexually; there were no
other purpose to her life. The tears kept flowing but no
longer from pain; her heart was crying now. She had never been
asked to do anything by an owner the drovers or auction house
staff that didn't result in sexual fulfilment for them. She
would cum many times during a sex act but the most powerful
feeling would come when her owner was totally satisfied. A
rush would then surge through her body from the gratification
of knowing that her one and only reason to live had been
fulfilled. She realized now how fortunate she had been with
her first owner; no wonder she and the other sex slaves had
loved serving him. She also thanked her own memory for the
answers about receiving pain, drilled into her head for years
at the sex farm. Answers she had never thought would be
needed.
She could feel the sympathy and solidarity from their wet lips kissing
her burning cheeks and sore belly. She slowly completed her rounds and
then returned to get her teary streaks dried with rouge before taking
up her position. She noticed during her kisses that no other pig had
nail marks on their breasts. So she assumed that she had suffered
extra pain as part of a ritual initiation.

The sacred riding crop ritual

The crop by the mistress's command was a sacred icon to be
revered; for the slaves it represented an instrument of
unavoidable pain and suffering to be expressed with passionate
conviction and pleasure. At no time during their waking hours
were they even for one instance able to escape its
intimidating presence. It completely dominated their lives to
the point where eating and other necessary daily functions
became mere distractions. The crop was nearly always in their
field of vision during their waking hours and in their dreams
at night

The tip of the riding crop was flexible and split in three
pliable four-inch leather strips. Those ends had to be
maintained in a moist warm cunt sheath when not in use. When
removed it would strike the flesh a number of times and then
be returned. It was displayed for the pigs during mealtimes,
propped up on two supports at the edge of the mistress's
dinner table.

At night it was placed horizontally in two hooks connected by
an inverted tee to the bottom of a wood pole hanging from the
ceiling. The pole was mounted in a pivot allowing it to turn
on its own axis. A large vane was attached near the top with a
return spring system; when catching a draft the pole would
turn and then slowly return it with a creaking sound. At bed
time the altar was placed under the crop and surrounded by
seven large flickering candles, which burned all night. The
candles were there to keep the crop warm but also gave it an
ominous life of its own, as the shadows of the crop turning
and creaking intermittently played on the walls and ceiling
beams, reminding any slave not sleeping of the hopelessly
tenuous tread separating her from an inevitable encounter. The
question was not whether her flesh would have a painful
incident with the crop but for most days, when and how often.

In the morning and after each meal the mistress rejuvenated
the crop in a formal ritual. After praying, sitting in her
chair she would hold the crop away and angled up slightly.
Each pig would then kneel in turn with her hands in the
praying position under the crop and suckle on the flexible
tips. The mistress kindly raised or lowered the crop to fit
the ends in their open mouths, Next they would shuffle over on
their knees to one side, their hands still in the praying
mode, where the keeper of the day was positioned lying down
with her legs spread and knees pulled up. They would kiss and
lick her cunt passionately, inserting as much saliva in it as
possible. When all were done the keeper would stand and the
mistress then inserted the business end of the crop in her
vagina where it would stay until meals or bedtime, except when
a pig presented her precious flesh on the altar to atone for a
committed sin.

To be continued...