'A Winter Excursion' Boy free porn video

'Boy's Winter's day.'

That morning, for some unknown reason, I woke from my normal death-like sleepunusually alert and aware. Mostly I drifted through the endless days in a sortof stupor, induced by the back-breaking drudgery and boredom of the routinethey imposed on me, in which days - perhaps even weeks - went by without anythingto make me note their dreary passage.

It was bitterly cold in my pen, and I was lying on my side, curled up as bestI could to preserve my body-heat which had warmed the damp, filthy straw beneathme. Its smell was the first thing I noticed, but I was used to it after allthis time, and with the ease of long practice I drew up my knees up into mybelly and rolled into an upright position, the tether chain attached to mynose-ring rattling against the metal trough on the pen door.

Sitting with my legs folded under me, my broad, muscular haunches restingon my heels, I emptied my bladder between my knees and waited for them to comeand water me, feed me, and lead me out to my daily drudgery. In my unusualwakefulness I noticed things anew that I had long become used to. My hungerand thirst for example, and the itching of the thick leather cuffs around myankles which hobbled me with the short chain linking them. I could feel thethe pressure on my head and face of the bridle which I wore permanently; myblinkers too, in their closed blinding position over my eyes. I could feelthe weight of my tether chain on the thick bronze ring in my broad, flat nose;my altered nostrils were wide now - too wide for the heavy ring to impede mybreathing even when I was whipped into full exertion.

I heard remote sounds from the outer world; the door to the small room whereI was penned thudded open, and I heard Bessie's footsteps and the rush of wateras she filled my bucket from the tap. More steps, and the bucket's contentssplashed into my trough. I lowered my blind head cautiously until my broad,out-thrust muzzle touched the surface of the water. Extending my wide, thicktongue I lapped noisily. My modified tongue acted as a sponge, and very soonthe trough was empty, and I sat back in hungry expectation. The soft scrapeof a shovel through some loose substance, the noise of its load slitheringinto the trough, announced to me that I was being fed. Eagerly I bent my headover the trough; in spite of the sour reek of the soft, crumbly stuff theyfed me on it tasted of nothing at all, unless it might be damp cardboard. Butit had nourished me for many months and it filled my belly; and it was withwith my hunger fully satisfied that I sat back again in my straw.

I listened carefully to the sounds of the normal routine; the slaves beingreleased from their cages, emptying their slop buckets, re-filling them withwater and washing just as they did every day. Then came the sound of shod footsteps,and I knew Bessie was bringing them their food. Just as she always did, sheleft them for a short time while they ate.

When she returned, I well knew what was to happen next. Bessie and one ofthe slaves came up to my pen, I heard the click of the door-bolt being pulledback, and felt through my nose ring the sensation of the short leash beingclipped to it, then the sudden lightness in my nose as the heavy tether chainwas unloosed to fall with a soft thud into the straw.

Bessie tugged gently upwards on my leash; at the same time the slave, whowas standing at the side of my pen, poked me painfully in the ribs with hiswooden goad. I rose awkwardly, feeling the whispery touch of the damp strawwhich had stuck to my body overnight falling from my skin. Bessie, with thehand holding my leash close up under my nose - I could smell the scent of thecoarse soap she used on her skin - led me out. First into the much larger outerroom where the slaves were kept; already the air was fresher, and when I camethrough into the icy outside air, it was like a heady wine. It was always likethis, except for a few days after my pen was cleaned out and fresh straw putin it, the contrast between the foetid smell of my pen and the outside airalways struck me.

I was led on, my horny, calloused, toeless feet insulating me to some extentfrom the frozen earth of the stable yard, on the path I knew so well; the pathI had been led on every day since I first awoke to find that my Mistress hadput me to this endless drudgery.

The hard, icy earth beneath my feet changed to hard, icy concrete, then toa thin, half-frozen mix of chaff and semi-solid excrement on reaching whichBessie hooked her finger through my nose-ring to stop me in my tracks. I heardthe click of the capstan rachet as the long pole through the thick, rotatingcentral upright was pulled around to behind where I stood patiently, then thecold, clammy feeling of the padded yoke settling around my neck and on my shoulders,its weight and bulk bowing my neck and forcing my head down and forward.

The leash was removed. More movements around and behind me, and then the loudclick of the brake being released. Immediately I threw my weight forward intothe yoke, all the muscles in my back and legs straining their hardest as thefirst whip-lash of the day, always the most painful, fell across my haunches.In spite of long usage the breath left my body in a grunt of shock; as I beganto move forward another blow fell upon my shoulders, and just before I reachedmy normal speed, a third. (Try as I might, anticipating the brake coming offas best I could, I always received at least three painful blows from the whipbefore I came up to the speed they required from me.)

Leaning into my yoke, causing the bell attached to it to clank dully withevery step I made, I trudged forward with painful slowness. Very shortly, asI came up to speed, it became easier, and soon I was able to keep moving totheir satisfaction. I heard Bessie leave; from this point the slave tetheredto the cental rotating upright would urge me on with his goad. At this timeI would fall into that unthinking half trance I spent most of my life in, buton this occasion I continued to think about my condition, and even to remembermy past.

As to my present condition, I was now a draught animal. Originally my Owner,Ms Howard, had taken me as a pet dog; but She had tired of me after only afew weeks. I remembered spending many miserable weeks chained to a kennel outsideBessie's living quarters before I'd been put into the dog-van and driven offsomewhere, to be returned in my present altered physical state. I rememberednothing of the major surgery that had obviously been carried out on me, butI did recall the first time I woken in my pen; my panic at my blindness andmy unavailing attempts to rise to my knees without the use of my missing arms.(Here I must have faltered in my steady progress; the goad struck quick asa snake's fangs; I grunted in pain and increased my pace a little. I imaginedthe slave wielding the goad for a moment, seated shivering on an old crate,tethered by his leash to the central post as there was no Woman present tosupervise him.) Still amazingly aware, I suddenly thought that I didn't evenknow, after all this time, why I was goaded round in these endless circlestwice a day. I remembered seeing blind donkeys in Travel Programmes trudgingaround turning a millstone; and I realized I was exactly like them; I too toiledon and on for a purpose I did not know. But I was almost certain, from overheardconversations, that I was pumping water. (At this point, as was usual, my bowelschose to empty themselves. I had long cured myself of an instinctive attemptto slow down and stop while I defecated - it only brought a flurry of painfulprods from the slave's goad - and I continued to trudge stolidly around whileI expelled my faeces, feeling their slimy warmth as they slid down the insidesand backs of my thighs on their way to join the layer of filth I walked through.)The sound of Bessie's shod feet accompanied by the slapping of bare feet onhard ground announced new arrivals. A brief flurry of action, and I heard Bessieleave alone. She was probably going to her breakfast in the warm kitchen, andhad tethered both slaves together to the central post; I imagined them huddledagainst each other for warmth.

Closing my eyes under my blinkers, I thought of Ms Howard. It had been a longtime since I had seen Her close to; occasionly I caught sight of Her beingdriven past in Her car from where I stood tethered at the Lodge, waiting forMary or Millie to return from their various errands to the village, but ifShe noticed me She gave no sign of it. I recalled that last Summer I had seenHer sitting reading in a deckchair on one of the lawns, a picture of cool elegancein Her flowery dress. I had been harnessed to the heavy roller on the lawnon Her right; only a little later a flustered Sonia had run out to order Bessieto transfer me to other work downwind, as my rank animal body-odour was disturbingour Mistress. I thought that the last glimpse I'd had of Her was about a coupleof months ago, when I'd seen Her sitting in the Autumn sun on Her patio asI was led past drawing a cart full of logs.

The shod feet returned, the brake came on. Slowed so abruptly in my course,I panicked briefly; having been taught only too well the penalty of slowingdown in my steady progress. But then I understood, and stood patiently in mysweaty yoke awaiting further developements. These were swift in coming. Afterthe usual sounds of flurrying movements, someone clipped a leash to my nose-ring,the horizontal pole was detached from my yoke, and the yoke itself removed.In its place the heavy harness was fitted, around my waist and over my shoulders,its broad straps icy cold on my hot skin.

A slight tug on my leash, and I followed obediently; out of the wheel-room,and into the open air. Still blind, I was led over the still-frozen packedearth of the yard, and brought to a halt somewhere near the kitchen, for Icould smell the tantalizing odours of cooking food. A cold hand was placedupon my chest, and a gentle pressure urged me to step backwards cautiously.Wood groaned and creaked behind me, and now I knew what was happening; I hadbeen backed in between the shafts of my cart, and the two male slaves werelifting the shafts so that my harness could be secured to them.

I felt the weight of the shafts on my waist and shoulders as my harness washooked up, then the hard, cold metal of my bit against my lips. ObedientlyI opened my mouth and the bit was put into it, to come to its rest positionon my gums where my back teeth began. (My front teeth had been pulled longago). Then Bessie opened my blinkers. As usual I was dazzled by the suddeninflux of light. When I'd recovered my vision I could see my long shadow stretchingbefore me and the frost sparkling on the grass in the rising sun. I could seenothing to either side, of course, because of the blinkers; but I could hearBessie and her minions moving around, and the sounds of the axes, saws etc.needed for wood-cutting being placed in the cart behind me.The air was completelystill, and it was bitterly cold.

The cart creaked as Bessie lowered her weight into the diving seat. She raisedmy reins and brought them down with a crack upon my shoulders. As I began tomove tentatively forward, she pulled my head round sharply to the left to avoidmy collision with the fence in front of me. That done, she flicked my rumpwith her whip, and I plodded off on the path towards the forest, obeying unthinkinglythe varying gentle pressures on my bit, now in its 'work' position betweenmy back teeth.

I wondered vaguely as to which woodpile we were heading; the nearest was abouthalf a mile away; the furthest about three miles. As this was the first wood-fetchingtrip of the day, the furthest seemed indicated; a round trip of six miles whichwould take about two and a half hours. Normally I would trudge along in a sortof unnoticing stupor, but on this rare day my faculties were keen, and I sawmy surroundings as if for the first time. My view was sharply cut off at thesides by my blinkers, and my head was lowered by the effort of drawing thecart as I leaned forward into my harness, allowing me to see only a few feetdirectly in front of me. I mused on the necessity of my being directed alongmy course by Bessie or some other driver; left to my own devices I should havewandered off the path. This left me to reflect on my treatment at Bessie'shands. She was, I decided, surprisingly attentive to my well-being. She wouldsee to it, for example, that I was tethered in the sun in cold weather, andin the shade in hot. She watered me at frequent intervals, and she would haltme and allow me to rest after any more than usually strenuous interval of labour.She was careful to preserve my strength; even to the extent of dismountingand leading me up gradients she considered too steep for me to pull the cartup with her weight added to its load. She kept me at a slow walk usually, andonly used the whip to start me off and to make me aware of when any unusualextra effort was needed. For instance, there was a particular place on oneof the paths I was often driven on where a thick tree root had made a largebump across the road; she knew to a nicety when to bring down the whip on myhaunches to encourage me into a short spurt of extra energy. In short, I thought,she treated me as a Third World villager would treat a valuable ox; not outof any innate good nature, but purely to ensure that I would be able to workas long and effectively as possible.

This train of thought came to and end with our arrival at our destination,a pile of roughly trimmed logs heaped in a clearing off the track. There Bessiedismounted and tethered me to a sapling, making sure I was in the direct sunlight,before unleashing the slaves from the rear of the cart and directing them tofill a rusty brazier with the twigs and wood chips which lay scattered around.Then she lit the brazier, which was soon well alight, and allowed the frozenslaves to huddle around it for ten minutes or so. She told off a slave to fetchme water, and he took the bucket which hung from the side of my cart over toa pond in a corner of the clearing and filled it. Then he offered up to mybroad, thick-lipped mouth. The water was thick and muddy, but I lapped it upavidly with my long, thick tongue. Then I relaxed, enjoying my rest in thefaint warmth of the winter sunlight, while Bessie set her minions to work trimmingthe logs they were to load on the cart. She herself sat on a log by the fire,occasionally encouraging a slave in his labours by raising a welt on his bodythrough the laser whip she always carried. She gave the slaves water from thelarge bottle which hung from the cart, while she drank hot coffee from theflask Millie had given her before we left.

One by one the trimmed logs thudded into the back of the cart until Bessiedecided the load was sufficient. I heard the chink of the slaves' tools beinglain on top, and the clicks of their leashes being attached to the cart beforeBessie untethered me and mounted into her seat to begin the return journey.

My load was much heavier now; gentle slopes which had been easy on the wayout became steep, and twice Bessie stopped me at their summits to recover mybreath, and once to dismount and lead me up a particularly steep passage. Ifell into my old ways of unthinking labour, conscious only of the draggingweight on my shoulders, chest, and waist as I leaned into my harness, untila pull on my bit announced the journey's end back where we'd started.

Bessie dismounted and tethered me, then unleashed the slaves and put themto unloading the cart and stacking the logs on the logpile. Then came a diversion.Someone out of my vision came up to us - I thought I recognised the voice ofmy Mistress's only other First Class slave, Veronica - and said something toBessie. She left, and Bessie called out for Millie to come and supervise themale slaves. On Millie's speedy arrival, Bessie deftly unhitched me from thecart and led me off through the stable yard and into the barn in which thevarious carts were kept. There she quickly hitched me to the smartly-paintedfour-wheeled three-seater which stood in a corner. She left, to return witha short, broad canvas bag which she shoved over my muzzle, hanging by its strapsfrom the top of my head. The bag was full of the coarse meal they fed me on;I made short work of it, scooping its contents into my mouth with my tongue,while Bessie fussed about with the cart, oiling the wheel bearings, and passinga duster over the paintwork. Finally she removed my feed bag, gave me morewater, and led me out, her hand through one of the large steel rings at eitherend of my bit, my reins presumably being hooked over the foot board beforethe driver's seat.

She led me to the front of the Mansion, where she stopped me by the stepsto the Grand Porch. There we waited for several minutes.

I had become fully alert again, and presently was aware of the sound of threepairs of footsteps descending the marble steps leading down from the Porch.I felt the light cart sway as they took their seats, then Bessie tugged onmy bit-ring, pulling me half-round to face in the opposite direction. She releasedher hold, the whip flicked my haunches, and I began to walk forward, the weightof the cart a trifle to the heavy logs I'd just hauled. The whip flicked myback, and I broke into an easy trot along the straight path my driver had chosenfor us. I particularly enjoyed this; for some short moments, when the reinswere loose on my shoulders, I could imagine myself free to choose my own direction,until there came a bend, or some other obstacle, and the pressure on one sideor other of my bit directed me to turn.

I very soon realized that it was my Mistress herself who was directing me;by now I could easily tell who my driver was by her characteristic methods.Bessie was sure-handed, but a little heavy on the bit: Millie was heavier still,and less confident; and she usually drove me as fast as my hobble would allow- fortunately she always employed the light single seater with the large panniersfor her frequent errands off the Estate. But this sureness of touch, theseconfident gentle pressures as she controlled my movements through the mediumof my bit, could belong only to Ms Howard!

I was moving easily, sweating but only lightly panting through my half-openmouth, on the smooth turf. I felt as though I could keep up this pace indefinitely.But then we came to our destination which I recognized instantly as one ofthe charming wooden Summerhouses which were scattered about the grounds. Thereall got down, and my reins were pulled forward over my head for one of theparty to lead me off. Judging by the occasional glimpse of a tiny fist holdingmy reins high up near my mouth I knew it was Polly who was leading me. (A tinywaif of a girl, scarcely four and half feet tall, she was our Mistress's petand body-slave, and had taken my place in Her affections). She led me overto a nearby fence and tethered me to the top rail. Then she left. She returnedwith water and, after a failed attempt to raise the bucket high enough forme to drink - owing to her own lack of height - went off to fetch somethingto stand on. After watering me, she left me in the sunshine to enjoy the unusualpeace of not being at labour.

I stood patiently for what seemed a very long time. What 'the humans' - asI'd long referred to them - were doing I'd no notion. I could move back andforth a tiny distance owing to the 'give' in my harness, and I could see straightahead to the forest across a small ploughed field. (Which I knew well, forI had pulled the plough!) Other than that, my vision was blocked by my blinkers,nor could I turn my head more than a few inches due to the shortness of mytether.

I tranced there, standing in the sunlight, until the arrival of a human broughtme back to wakefulness. It was Polly again. She untethered me, pulled the reinsback over my head, and mounted the cart. She pulled on one side of my bit toturn me, then whipped me into motion. My load was feather-light compared withprevious ones, and Polly was able to whip me into the full speed my hobblewould allow - a rattling six miles an hour. Even so, on the way I had timeto reflect with some amazement how easily and naturally she dominated me. Iwas nearly half as tall again, and many times stronger, yet I followed herdocilely wherever she led me, and submitted meekly to her whip. (But then;many times in my previous, human existence I'd seen on films or televisionsome tiny child in some Third World country controlling a huge beast like anox, armed merely with a sharp stick! Like an ox, I too had become domesticatedto the point where refusal, or even the faintest hint of resistance, to a humanbeing, however small and weak, had become mentally impossible to even contemplate).We very soon arrived at the house, where she drove me round to the kitchendoor. I barely had time to notice the two slaves sitting on the ground, theirleashes tied to a steel ring in the wall, clumsily picking out scraps froma shared bucket with their maimed hands, before a banging and scraping announcedthe loading of something large onto the rear seat of the cart and Polly flickedme with the whip to get me moving again.

Back we went, still at the same breakneck pace. When we halted in front ofthe Summerhouse I was panting heavily, and dripping with sweat. The cart wasrelieved of its burden; hands pulled my reins over my head and I was led offbe to tethered out of the way. I soon became certain that my Mistress was leadingme from an evocative whiff of Her delicate scent, and the soft swish of Hersilken garments as She moved along. She tied me to the fence and left, to returnshortly with water. I drank and, more and more certain that it was indeeedShe who stood by my side, I tried to turn my head to nuzzle Her hand out ofa sudden rush of affection for my Owner, only to be brought up sharply by myshort tether. Finally I desisted as I heard Her move a little way off. Sheseemed to stay motionless for some time; I wondered what She was doing, andhad the vague but distinct feeling that She was regarding me as I stood inthe shafts. Then I heard Her move towards me and, with a shock, I found myselfstaring blankly into Her emerald eyes at close range. Those eyes, which hadenslaved me with a glance at our first meeting, retained all their old powerover me. She seemed to be searching my eyes for something, but my bladder chosethat moment to empty itself. I heard Her half-stifled gasp of disgust as Shestepped away to avoid the thick stream of urine splashing on the ground betweenmy feet, then Her short laugh of self-mockery at Her own squeamishness beforeShe left me to wonder what Her actions signified..

Some time later I heard two sets of soft footsteps approaching and two voicesin conversation. I recognized them as that of my Mistress and Her alter ego,the First Class slave - what was Her name? - ah yes; Sonia. Both equally talland elegant, Sonia lacked that special something which allowed her Mistressto dominate with a glance. But I'd seen even less of Sonia than of her Mistressover the last two years. The sound of their footsteps and voices rose and fellas they walked; evidently they were strolling up and down on the lawn, possiblyafter their lunch. On one of their nearest approaches my bowels emptied, andI heard one of them, probably Sonia, utter a short cry of shock and disgust.My Mistress laughed, and made some remark to her, then they carried on withtheir promenade.

Silence fell again, and I became aware of my growing hunger. I was also feelingthe increasing cold as the short winter afternoon came to its end.The faintwarmth from the sun had gone some time ago, and I could see my breath smokingin the still, cold air before little Polly came to lead me back to the stepsof the Summerhouse.

My Mistress held my bit as the cart was loaded, then all took their seats.She whipped me into movement, and I set off on the return journey. I soon foundit was to be no repetition of the outward one, for Ms Howard, contrary to Herusual practice, whipped me up into a full gallop. Despite spending so muchtime motionless and tethered, I was still tired, but She did not spare Herwhip, and I was panting with exhaustion when I was pulled up at the Porch stepsand my reins handed to the waiting Bessie.

Whether she approved of my treatment at the hands of our Mistress I couldn'tsay, but she made a point of leading me, instead of driving me, the hundredyards or so to the cart-barn. Ther she swiftly unhitched me and led me offto the empty wood cart where the two wretched slaves crouched shivering, theirleashes held by the warmly-clad Millie. Her fellow-slave greeted her, and thetwo women hitched me between the shafts. Bessie left, to return shortly carryingmy full feeding bag which she hung over my head so that I could feed as I walked.Then the familiar creak of the cart as she mounted, the sharp pain of the whipon my skin, and I trudged off into the gathering winter gloom.

It was fully dark when we returned, guided by the two oil lamps Bessie hadhooked on either side of my cart. I was standing between the shafts in dullexhaustion when a sudden subtle shift in the attitude of the weary slaves unloadingthe cart announced the arrival on the scene of our Mistress. I saw Her drawBessie aside and appear to question her; Her PA, warmly dressed as she was,seemed both cold and bored. I felt her stare of horrified fascination as mybladder emptied itself into the dirt at my feet before she turned away to joinin the inquisition.

Finally the questions ceased, and Bessie escaped to unhitch me from the woodcart. She unloosed my reins and clipped a short thick leash to my nose-ringbefore leading me off to the wheel-shed, Blossom in attendance. The familiarroutine continued in the glow of the oil lamp which hung from the wall. Blossomheld my leash, his hand high up under my nose, as Bessie removed and hung upmy harness. At a sharp command he led me a few feet onto the trodden dirt ofthe circular path I would be driven along. There Bessie slipped the cold, heavyyoke over my neck and shoulders, secured it in position, and strapped the yoke-poleto it. She removed my leash and, just as she snapped my blinkers over my eyeswith a practised flick of her thumb, I fancied I saw Ms Howard and Her PA enterthe shed. Then I was blind, and I waited wearily for the crack of the brakebeing released.

It came, and I leaned my full weight into my yoke immediately, as the goadwielded by the tethered Blossom dug painfully into my flank. I barely heardBessie and the the visitors depart over the protesting creak of the pole andthe clank of the bell on my yoke, I was aware only of the repeated digs asBlossom goaded me up to speed. Still in my unusual state of consciousness,I wondered which was the more painful; the whip or the goad. Both hurt me,of course; but with the goad the pain was more concentrated, and there wasno preliminary swish of warning.

On and on I trudged in the blackness; with only the soft shuffle of my feetthrough the dirt I walked in, my hoarse panting, the creaking of the yoke-pole,and the dull clank of the bell at every short pace I made to break the silence.My bladder opened without causing me to alter my pace; I felt the warm liquidcourse down my thighs and lower legs as I urinated. Occasionally I heard Blossomshift position on the pile of straw he sat on; occasionally too, he would relievehis boredom by poking me with the goad on the lower or upper thigh, or on thehaunch nearest to him, or in my ribs.

I had relapsed into my normal dull, beast-like indifference when Bessie returned,her thick sandals scraping over the frozen ground outside. She pulled on thebrake, bringing me to a halt, then she untethered Blossom and led him off tohis cage for the night. I grew cold again waiting for her return, and I wasglad when she came back to lift the yoke from my neck and shoulders and leadme out into the icy air. I trudged behind her over the frosty ground, blindlyfollowing her direction as indicated to me by the gentle tugs of my nose-ringuntil she stopped me. I heard the slither of leather being tied around woodas she tethered me, then the sound of her footsteps as she left me. I was shiveringwhen she came back, accompanied by someone else, evidently Millie with whomshe shared quarters, for I heard Bessie say 'Be sure to build up the fire;it will freeze hard tonight. We've fetched plenty of wood!" Then she tookmy leash and led me off again.

Icy packed earth gave way to cold concrete; icy fresh air to the cold, closeatmosphere of the shed in which the slaves lay shivering in their cages. Thento the familiar foetid stink of the tiny back room where I was pennned. Bessieled me into my pen through the further gate; I felt the post brush againstmy hip as I walked onto the thick, damp, matted straw, and heard the clickof the latch on the gate as she closed it behind me. Cautiously I moved forwarduntil I came to the closed front gate. Bessie tugged gently downwards on myleash, and I sank awkwardly to my knees in the straw. I heard the straw rustleas she picked up my tether chain from where it lay, and felt the sudden weightof it as she clipped it to my nose ring. She took off the leash and I heardthe sound of her filling my water bucket, then the splash as she poured itinto the trough before me. I bent forward gingerly until my questing tonguefound its surface; there I lapped it down quickly and noisily. Finally camethe sound of my feed being shovelled into the bucket, then the soft slitherof it being emptied into my trough. I heard the door thud shut as Bessie departedbefore I had lowered my muzzle into the trough.

As usual, I made short work of feeding, after which I sat back, buttocks onmy heels, in temporary contentment, with a full belly, and free for a timeof harness and yoke, whip and goad. With that uncanny full awareness that I'dhad all day, I thought that for the domesticated draught animal my Mistresshad made of me, the best I could expect was warmth, clean straw, and a fullbelly; that was as good as it would ever get. Without bitterness I reflectedon my labours for Her. I had panted and sweated under the lash to haul woodfor Her fires, so that She and Her slaves should be warm, while She had mekept in an unheated pen. I had groaned under the yoke and the goad to pumpwater to keep them clean, while I lay unbathed in filthy straw. But that wasthe nature of things, I told myself without resentment. My body, my muscles,were not mine to command, but Hers; She owned me. And She paid me the rewardany careful owner gives to a work-beast; just enough food to enable me to keepworking for Her, and just enough shelter from the elements to keep me healthy.But, looking back, something still puzzled me. A long time ago, before Shehad bought her male slaves, She and another Woman had come to me where I stoodyoked and blind at the wheel. Nothing had been said, but I had heard a sharphiss as of escaping gas, and felt an icy numbness spread over my groin. I rememberedfeeling cloth brush the inside of my thighs high up at my crotch, and hearda faint click. Then they had gone and Bessie had whipped me into motion again.To this day I don't know what had occurred on that occasion, but I'd alwayshad the nagging suspicion, for some unknown reason, that something importantand irreversible had beeen done to me.

Finally, at a signal from my colon, I spread my ankles and defecated betweenmy legs. Then, yawning, I wriggled onto my side, and lay tiredly down in thedirty straw. As usual I was deeply asleep in seconds; as usual when I woketo the sounds of the the morning routine it was as if no time had passed atall. But I seemed to remember - or had I imagined it? - that my Mistress hadvisited me during the night. For what reason, I could not guess; but surelythere had been a faint trace of Her fragrance in the air when I'd awoke?

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