‘Chain her up with the others,’ Jervis stated casually.
‘Yes, sir,’ Eliza answered and gave a quick bob as she took up Octavia’s chain.
Jervis had already turned away, and ignored Octavia entirely as she was led from the room.
‘What’re they up to?’ Octavia whispered as soon as the library door had closed.
‘I’m not too sure,’ Eliza answered. ‘Judy and May are in the scullery – chained to the pipes, if you please, and as bare as I am. Becky’s been sent out to dirty the yard, of all things, then she’s to strip and join us, so squire says. Then last night he told me to arrange for the children to be looked after. Until further notice, he said it was to be, and he sent ten pounds to my Anna for the housekeeping. Ten pounds!’
Eliza pushed the door to the servants area open as she finished speaking, and Octavia did not reply. In the scullery, visible through an open door, Judy and May stood naked and chained by their necks to the heavy lead pipes that ran along one wall. Judy was seated with her back to the door and her fine bottom spread out on a stool. May was standing, her face flushed and her hands placed somewhat awkwardly over her pubic hair. Both looked flushed and nervous.
Outside, the gush of water could be heard and a glance to the window showed Becky working the pump so that water spilt from the rim of the trough. The yard was already awash. In the scullery, Octavia was greeted with nervous smiles and brief, reassuring kisses, then chained alongside her friends. The intimacy of the situation was inescapable, and she found her nipples popping out simply from the warmth and scent of their bodies.
‘What’s to be done with us?’ she asked. ‘Do either of you know?’
‘We don’t know. Something dirty, no doubt,’ Judy replied. ‘We’ve been here for over an hour now, and I need to visit the little room!’
‘Do it in the sink,’ Octavia advised.
Judy’s only response was a distressed grimace, but a minute later she had climbed on to the stool and positioned her bottom above the big china sink. A rushing sound signalled the release of her pee, and Octavia stole a glance. Judy was sideways on, with her bottom stuck out and a thick stream of yellow liquid gushing backwards into the sink. Her cheeks were burning red with shame and her eyes were closed, allowing Octavia to watch until she had finished peeing.
As Judy scrambled down, still blushing furiously, Octavia and May exchanged half-embarrassed, half-excited looks. Octavia was already anticipating the moment she was ordered to do something rude to one or both of the girls, particularly May, for whom she had always had a special affection. It had been a long time since any of them had had any sexual contact, and both sisters had filled out, breasts and bottoms ripening to full womanhood while plenty of exercise had kept them in trim. Judy had two soft rolls of flesh at her waist when she was seated, creating a delightful plumpness that reminded Octavia of Polly. May was slimmer but hardly under-endowed.
They spoke together in whispers, discussing their probable fate and repeatedly glancing at the door. When it finally did open, it was to admit Eliza and Becky, both now naked and collared by the neck. Eliza used her keys to undo the chains and picked up the rings, including her own. Then, leading the girls from the scullery, she made her way outside.
The yard was a sea of rich red mud that sparkled and glittered in the strong sunlight. Across it lay a rope, running between two big hitching rings at either side. At one end it had been tied off; at the other, it was merely looped through its ring, and it was here that Jervis and Genevieve stood. Both wore boots, but while Jervis stood in the ankle-deep slurry in the manner of one used to it, Genevieve was on the sill of a doorway and holding her skirt up with very evident distaste. To her side was a fine photographic apparatus. At the appearance of the girls, both looked up. Jervis gave a broad grin and started towards them, Genevieve remaining on her step.
‘Splendid,’ he said, rubbing his hands together in unconcealed glee. ‘Now, I’m sure you’re all dying for an explanation?’
Octavia nodded as the four sisters chorused a polite agreement.
‘I want all four of you back in milk,’ Jervis stated, ‘and I want it done fast. Still, that does not mean that we have to forego a little pleasure in the process. My lady wife was saying the other day that her ancestors used to regard the local peasantry as no better than farm animals, an appropriate attitude to five trollops who have allowed themselves to be used as cows. However, so long as you are not producing milk, I have decided that the status of cow is a touch elevated for you. Therefore, until you manage to bring yourselves into milk, you will live not as cows, but as pigs.’
He paused, grinning from ear to ear. Octavia glanced round, at the thick, rich mud, at the long rope, at the buildings that hid the yard from the outside world.
‘Hence my impromptu pigpen,’ Jervis went on. ‘I was originally going to use one of the old stys, but it would have deprived me of the wonderful sight of the five of you rolling in muck every time I chose to glance out of the window. Now, if you would be kind enough to step this way, I shall attach you to the rope and explain a few amusing little rules that we have decided on.’
‘Might I undress please, sir?’ Octavia asked quickly.
‘No,’ Jervis answered, ‘you may not. My wife doesn’t approve of peasant girls dressing like ladies in order to ape their betters. But don’t worry, all that fol-de-rol won’t last long in the mud; you’ll be naked soon enough.’
Octavia followed the others, who had already set off across the yard. Bare feet squelched into the mud, sinking to the ankle as they went, while four plump bottoms quivered behind them at the feel of being naked in the open air. At the rear, Octavia was wishing she had dressed more plainly and chiding herself for vanity.
Jervis had taken the end of the rope, and as each naked girl reached him he slipped it through the ring at the end of her chain. Each was then sent off with a slap to her bottom, and the next fixed in place. When all five were chained to the rope, he tied it off, quite loosely, with no effort to prevent it being untied. He then turned to where the girls had formed a trembling huddle at the centre of the yard.
‘You have two choices,’ he announced. ‘No, in reality you have three choices, yet I imagine you will all choose the sensible one. This is to follow the rules and do your best to bring yourselves and each other into milk. Once in milk, each girl will be released, washed and put into the milking system my lady wife and I have evolved. Alternatively, you may detach the rope from the wall and escape, running naked across the fields with your neck in a collar and two yards of chain attached to you. I imagine you would make for Erme Head, where Polly Endicott would doubtless provide a sympathetic reception. Any who do this will be excluded from the milking regime and, with the exception of Octavia, discharged from her post without a reference.’
He paused to chuckle at his own joke, which his wife acknowledged with a faint lift of the eyebrows.
‘The third choice,’ he then went on, ‘is not to trouble to bring yourself into milk or to fail to do so. In such a case the girl, or girls, will remain as pigs until I tire of the sport, which might be a long time. Now, the rules. During your time as pigs, you may expect occasional beatings, when it amuses us. You may also expect to be photographed; I do like to keep the albums up to date. More severe beatings will be given for infringements of the rules, which are simple. No standing, no talking, plenty of rolling in the mud, and behave in a generally pig-like manner. Am I quite clear?’
The girls nodded dumbly, all aware of the consequences of speaking when forbidden.
‘Come on, then, down in the muck!’ Jervis ordered cheerfully.
Octavia looked down at the slimy mess beneath her. It was a deep red in colour, viscous in texture and full of bits of leaf and lumps of hard soil. Her dress was brand new and of a delicate cotton, her underwear silk, satin and cambric. Becky was already down in the mud, her broad bottom spread out as she crawled to the extent of her chain. Eliza, Judy and May were all making heav
y weather of soiling themselves, going reluctantly down on to all fours but making their best efforts to minimise the amount of mud on their bodies. Reluctantly, Octavia followed suit, kneeling so that her knees squished deep into the goo, then leaning forwards on to her hands. The mud was cool and wet, quickly soaking into her dress and through to her skin. A shiver of pleasure at being so thoroughly used went down her spine even as she grimaced at the slimy feeling of the mud.
‘Well in, well in,’ Jervis was calling. ‘Come, I want to see those fat tits in it. I want to see your faces dirty and mud up your cunts. Get in there, damn it, or by God I’ll fetch a carriage whip to teach you some obedience! Come on, wallow, you fat trollops!’
Knowing that he was as good as his word, Octavia screwed up her eyes and went forwards, putting her face into the cool filth, then rolling her body slowly to the side. Her hip bumped another girl and together they sank slowly down into the mud. She heard Jervis’s laughter and Genevieve’s lighter, higher tone, then a heavy squelch as one of the girls slipped. She rolled slowly over, all hope of saving her dress now gone as the muck penetrated her clothes to soil the skin beneath. All around her, slopping, squelching noises signalled that the other girls were also miring themselves. A well-padded bottom pressed briefly into her side, then a plump breast touched her face.
‘Excellent!’ Jervis’s voice rang out. ‘Wonderful! Quick, my dear, insert a new plate.’
‘I have already done so!’ Genevieve answered with laughter in her voice.
‘Splendid!’ Jervis called. ‘Now come on, let’s have some sport. You girls – or rather, you pigs – the first to make another come will be let off her evening strapping!’
There was a flurry of muddy sounds from around Octavia. Each knew the feel of Jervis’s belt and, although it was sure to arouse them, each was happy to have a chance to avoid it. This was particularly true for Octavia, whose bottom still stung from the effects of Genevieve’s cane. Reaching out, she brushed a soft thigh, then caught the leg. Whoever it was seemed intent on her own agenda and tried to squirm away. Octavia’s grip slipped and, as she lunged for a better hold, a hand caught hold of her skirt. Again she managed to grip someone’s slimy thighs but, as she tried to pull herself towards them, more hands found her clothes and began to pull at her.
A struggle ensued, each girl determined to get at the others in order to avoid her belting. Octavia found herself at a serious disadvantage, unable to come to grips with the slippery, mud-smeared flesh of her friends, but with her clothes providing all too good a purchase. To the sound of Jervis’s almost deranged laughter, she was pulled down into the mud. In a tangle of chains, hair and slippery limbs, she had her dress torn up her legs and over her hips. Hands gripped at her drawers, wrenching them open while she scrabbled futilely at a pair of slippery legs. Her dress and chemise were torn open at the front and her breasts pulled out. A heavy bottom settled on to her chest and her thighs were taken in a firm grip. Then whoever was on top of her had sunk her face into her quim and all thoughts of resistance were lost. As her rider’s tongue found her clitoris and began to lick, she could only pull her head up and return the favour.
Her mount’s bottom was slimy with mud, but Octavia took a firm grip on the plump thighs and buried her face between them. The girl’s quim was hot and swollen, also smeared with mud, and Octavia quickly found her mouth full of the gritty texture and earthy taste as she began to lick. The girl made no effort to stop her and the others had moved away, although wet, smacking and sucking sounds could be heard to one side.
Eager to know who she was licking, Octavia risked opening her eyes. Her view was limited, consisting of a pair of big, pink and brown buttocks and a mud-clogged anus. At the edge of her vision, she could see a tangle of limbs and hair, also a face, but so smeared with mud that it was hard to tell which of the sisters it belonged to.
A finger had found her vagina and slid inside, while the tongue on her clitoris was lapping ever faster. No longer caring who it was, she pushed a thumb up her rider’s own hole and redoubled her efforts to bring her off. Their licking became frantic, no longer an attempt to make the other come first but simply lust for one another’s sex. Dimly, Octavia could hear the Marays laughing at them and passing rude comments. Vaguely she was aware of the other three girls tangled into a ball of sweaty, grimy flesh as they wrestled and gasped in the filth. Then it was all swept away on a tide of bliss as she started to come, even as her rider’s quim began to pulse in her face.
The licking stopped and the girl on top of her screamed out in ecstasy, leaving Octavia at the very peak of her own orgasm. Then the tongue found her clitoris once more and she was coming again, a long, muscle-straining climax that seemed to run to every nerve and muscle of her body.
She lay limp and weak in the mud as the girl on top of her crawled slowly off. It was Judy, who turned her a shy smile and then slid off to land in the mess with a meaty smack. Octavia acknowledged Judy and then closed her eyes. She was lying, soiled and filthy in the pigpen, her beautiful clothes torn to rags and ruined with mud. Her breasts were out and her nipples stiff and sore, her thighs were open and her vagina gaping, wet and slimy with mud. She was chained by the neck to a rope and faced the prospect of days living the life of a farmyard animal. Yet not one detail of her fate would she have surrendered at that instant.
For the next two weeks, Octavia lived in the pigpen. The rags of her clothing were quickly discarded, leaving her as naked as the others, and on the first evening she watched as all four sisters were lined up with their big bottoms in the air and given a dozen sound cuts of Jervis’s belt apiece. This led to more sex, in which Octavia joined, and it was in her mouth that Jervis chose to come.
The night was cool and they slept in a huddle at the centre of the yard, waking to the dawn of their first full day as pigs. They were fed when Jervis troubled to rise, eating slops and porridge from a long zinc trough along a wall. The chains made this difficult, and there was a good deal of unseemly scrabbling for position before Eliza managed to impose some sort of order. She did this with grunts and gentle nips to shoulders and bottoms, all the while keeping a wary eye on the Marays who stood watching in the doorway. Jervis was holding a long whip, while Genevieve worked the photographic apparatus.
Polly arrived towards the end of feeding time and stood watching the scene with horror, and, Octavia thought, a trace of envy. She was then taken away to be milked and the pigs were left to themselves. The sound of Polly being first beaten, then milked, reminded the girls of why they were in the pigpen, and they began the process of massaging their breasts to restart their milk.
The day passed, and the next, the girls slowly shedding their last vestiges of dignity and coming to behave more and more like the animals whose lifestyle they had been made to assume. By use of the pump they were able to keep at least partially clean, although careful never to overdo it and risk Jervis’s wrath. Massaging and suckling of breasts became as normal as it had been when they had all been in milk together, as did the licking of quims and bottoms.
At the end of the first week, all of them felt entirely at home being nude and filthy with mud, while relationships and a pecking order had begun to develop among them. Eliza headed this as the eldest sister, with Octavia and Becky as grudging equals beneath her. Judy followed and May came bottom, although both had become increasingly sexually devoted to Octavia. Their sex would be slow, and messy and uninhibited, as was every aspect of their existence, including eating and evacuation. Being shy of exposure or prudish was impossible, yet Octavia was surprised how quickly she came not just to accept, but to enjoy her condition.
Each evening they would be beaten, gently, but with enough force to keep them in mind of their condition and warm them for sex. Jervis would either take advantage of one of them or indulge himself with Genevieve, often in full view of the five pigs. Polly was also offered their use and, although reluctant at first, came to make a routine of having one or another girl lick her quim after m
ilking.
On the tenth day, Eliza came into milk and was released, then given a final, heavy strapping in front of all of them. This left her whole bottom a mass of red and purple welts, and afterwards she celebrated her freedom by having Octavia lick her to orgasm. That evening, Octavia fought Becky for the dominance of the group and won, ending up perched triumphantly on Becky’s face while her bottom-hole was licked. As usual, this was photographed, and it was only when Jervis showed her the plate of her and Becky wrestling naked in a pool of muck that she came to wonder at her own behaviour.
Becky’s milk started the following afternoon and Judy’s the same evening. Both were taken from the pen, bent over the wall for vigorous strappings and then allowed to clean and dress themselves. Octavia could feel the weight and pressure in her own breasts and May’s were clearly swollen. Yet neither started, and for two more days the two of them stayed naked and chained, revelling in muck and in each other’s bodies, eating slops from the trough and taking their nightly strappings. Finally, May’s milk started and Octavia watched her friend’s final beating with a curious sense of loss, only to regain her happiness when May insisted on a long lick afterwards.
The night on her own in the pigpen was the least happy for Octavia, who had come to be used to the warm comfort of the other girls’ bodies. In the morning she fed as usual and then began a determined assault on her now swollen and sore breasts. Finally, shortly before noon, the first drops of milk appeared on her nipples. Becky had been watching, and ran indoors excitedly with the news. The others soon appeared, and Octavia was ceremoniously unchained, thrown over the wall, soundly strapped and then taken to the pump to be washed down.
By the following week, the milk production was back in full swing. Each morning and evening, the girls would strip and mount the milking frames. Genevieve or Jervis would apply a strap, whip or cane to each plump bottom while one of the other girls did the milking and the yield would be collected together in a two-gallon churn.
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