Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Alisha is Sent to the Farm - Part Four

   Mf, nc, humil, exhib, bd

   Author's Note: For context, please first read `Alisha is Sent to the
Farm' - Parts One, Two and Three.  If you want to find out how Alisha was
originally blackmailed into submitting to this nightmare world of
subjugation, please read `Annabel and Mr.  Nash - Chapter Sixty-Six'.

   My heartfelt thanks to Regressednegress and Ashley Darkside for their
imaginative contributions to this ongoing story.



   Chapter Twenty-Four

   It was her reflection that did it.  If she hadn't glanced up at the
greenhouse as she had waddled awkwardly past, Alisha may well have managed
to continue meandering through the days and weeks ahead, cocooned in the
drug-induced bubble of mental confusion and bodily basic needs that had
come to embrace her entire world.  If she hadn't actually seen what a
physically grotesque creature they had turned her into, then perhaps she
would have sunk so deeply into this swamp of mindless obedience that she
would never have found her way back out.

   After a few days of exhausting and agonizing pony training in the
paddock, Alisha had eventually been taken to a remote wooden stall on the
edge of the field and kept there in isolation without even the company of
the other milk cows to comfort her.  Her initial sense of relief at finally
being left alone had soon begun to transform into a growing anxiety as the
minutes and hours had ticked by, and the first night had fallen.  Chained
to a wooden cross-beam, Alisha had been forced to either kneel or crouch,
and she had alternated between the two positions in turn to alleviate the
cramping in her weary legs.

   But of far greater concern had been the steadily increasing ache in her
bloated, milk-laden breasts.  Her brain was by now very much in tune with
the ebbs and flows of her body, and she instinctively knew that if the
pressure in her swollen mammaries was not released soon, she simply would
not survive.  With her arms attached horizontally to the beam, she was
incapable of milking herself, and so as much as it grieved her, she had
begun to hanker for the return of her cruel white masters, because they
were the only ones who could provide her with the relief she so desperately
needed.

   Kneeling and then crouching for hour after hour in the cramped wooden
stall, Alisha's convoluted mind had at one point plucked a random scene of
her former life from its memory banks.  Like a ghost, she had floated
through the polished marble lobby of her office building, and then past the
rows of brightly lit cubicles up on the seventh floor where she worked,
recognizing the faces of her colleagues, and she had even watched her
former self striding confidently through the office.  But it was as if the
intelligent, vibrant young African-American career woman she was observing
were another person entirely.  Straight-backed, chin proudly raised,
smartly dressed in a white blouse and navy skirt, with a stack of legal
documents under her arm - was this really what she had looked like before?
She had, for a while, been overcome by a deep sense of loss accompanied by
a sudden need to escape and reclaim her former place, but eventually the
image had been eclipsed by the far more urgent throbbing in her distended
nipples, and in the morning, when they had come for her, the memory had
receded to nothing more than a vague sense of unease.

   Physically spent, she had feebly protested as Matthew had hosed her down
with ice cold water, his bare hands roaming freely over her naked skin, but
when his fingers had found her responsive teats, the blessed relief as he
had squeezed off some excess milk had outweighed any sense of indecency. 
When the giggling white boys had then pried her ass cheeks apart and
pressed the mysterious narcotic capsules inside her body, the pain and
outrage had rapidly receded as the soothing drugs had taken effect.  Much
needed sleep had then engulfed her, and when she had opened her eyes she
had felt amazingly fresh, flexing her toes in the dirt and listening to the
early birds chirping in the trees.  Her legs no longer hurt, and her
breasts, although still brim full of milk, weren't for once, the focus of
her attention.

   Although she was terrified of what long-term effect the drugs might be
having on her, there was no doubting the feeling of well-being that
followed their application.  Clearly, Jacob and his associates knew exactly
what they were doing, because in just a couple of hours, Alisha had been
transformed from being physically shattered to fully energized. 
Unfortunately this meant that she was almost certainly due for another day
of humiliating exercise for her captors' amusement, of course.

   But ominously, she sensed that there was something else that they had
done to her while she had been out, and although she had no way of seeing
what it was, she could feel the cool air around her neck and scalp, and
with a sinking heart realized that they had been at her hair again.  She
suddenly recalled Richard brutally snipping her pony tail off in the
paddock the week before, and the heart-wrenching sight of her beloved locks
in his hand flashed before her eyes.  When she had arrived at the farm, her
hair - such a source of pride back in the city - had been straight and
shoulder length.  She had favored a fringe cut for the past few weeks, and
the admiring looks from her male colleagues, as well as the compliments she
had received from her friends, told her that once again she had chosen the
style well.

   Well, that's all gone now, she thought woefully.  But what have they
left me with?

   The absurdity of her sudden panic about her hair was not lost on her,
given her permanent state of undress, he grossly inflated breasts, and the
enforced hair growth under her arms and around her crotch.  But as much as
she knew that it was irrelevant in the big picture, she was suddenly quite
anxious to discover what further changes they had made to her.  Oh, for a
little mirror on the back of the rough wooden door she was facing!  Back in
her city life, she had spent a great deal of her time studying herself
vainly in the mirror, but then she'd had good reason to.  Perhaps now she
was better off not knowing what she looked like.

   Feeling pins and needles in her calves, Alisha shifted forward onto her
knees, her tender nipples prodding against the door.  She flexed her
shoulders and turned her head from side to side, and felt the thick leather
collar digging into her neck - another permanent reminder of her slave-like
status.

   Her hair temporarily forgotten, Alisha's mind drifted under the numbing
effects of the drugs in her system.  This time there were no flashbacks to
her city life, just endless loops of the unspeakable indignities she had
suffered since her ordeal had begun, and in particular, the leering,
laughing faces of the white men that now controlled her wretched existence.


   Maybe she had slept in her kneeling position, but she was snapped out of
her nightmare when the door was jerked open, sunlight pouring into her
stall, and she squinted up the silhouettes of Richard and Matthew.  Even
though their appearance meant further torment was surely coming her way,
Alisha was actually a little relieved to see them again, because anything
was surely better than the endless monotony of sitting this tiny wooden
stall.

   She heard the clinking of a chain as Richard reached inside and freed
her arms from the crossbeam, and then with a jerk on her collar she was
pulled out into the open air.  Still on her knees, Alisha stared
submissively at Richard's boots as he grabbed her arms and pulled them
roughly up behind her head.  She heard a solid click as her wrist cuffs
were fastened to the collar, forcing her to keep her hands up behind her
neck.  Immediately she felt bare skin on the back of her head, and her
heart began to pound in trepidation.

   Oh, dear God no!  They've shaved my head!

   "Let's go, Daisy!" Richard said, jerking on her leash.  "You've got
visitors."

   The implications of Richard's words were momentarily lost on Alisha as
she struggled to come to terms with the fact that she was now bald!  But
then did it really make any difference now?  She was permanently naked in
front of them, and they had fucked her repeatedly, she had swallowed their
semen, she had wallowed in compost, crawled around in a pig pen, had been
milked like a cow, performed like a show pony - was there really anything
left to preserve of her dignity?

   As she maneuvered herself upright, Alisha resolved to turn herself
mentally inward again.  To try and become the observer and pretend that
this body she was occupying belonged to some other unfortunate slave, that
the real Alisha Royce, with her long straightened hair, her well-toned sexy
figure, and her beautiful wardrobe, was patiently waiting for her back in
the city.

   "Down on your haunches, Daisy!" Richard said, giving the leash a tug
that made Alisha stumble forward.  Still declining to look up at her
tormentors, Alisha rose into a squatting position, and after feeling two
more jerks on the chain, began to waddle forward behind Richard, her
outlandish breasts bouncing in front of her.

   "How are you feeling today, Daisy?" she heard Matthew say from behind
her.  "Nicely refreshed?  Ready for another good workout?"

   Unlike Richard and Master Jacob, Alisha wasn't totally afraid of
Matthew. More than once he had displayed a little affection for her, and if
it weren't for these nightmarish circumstances, he would probably have been
just another tongue-tied admirer like so many of the other pathetic white
boys in the law firm where she worked.  But of course because of his
undeserved position of power over her on the farm, Matthew didn't have to
impress her in order to enjoy her charms - indeed after learning to
overcome his initial coyness, Matthew had quickly gotten into the habit of
taking advantage of Alisha's naked body far more frequently than his older
brother!

   Perhaps it was because of this unwanted familiarity that Alisha chose to
ignore him, and so they continued around the field in silence, a
huge-breasted black girl with her hands locked behind her head, waddling
along on a leash between two white farm boys.

   Lord, give me the strength to survive this hell!  Alisha thought as they
approached the milking shed behind the farmhouse.  Richard had said there
were visitors waiting, and as the moment of their introduction neared, her
heart began to race a little faster.  It was always the same in situations
like these - no matter what she had managed to endure so far, it was always
worse when new faces came to witness her misery and degradation.

   Because of the effort in trying to maintain her balance, Alisha had been
concentrating on the dirt path in front of her, but as they passed the
greenhouse the glinting sunlight caught her eye and for the first time in
days, she finally got to see what she actually looked like!

   The concept of having her head shaved, devastating enough in itself,
wasn't even close to the effect the sight of her reflection had on her. 
She was staring straight into the eyes of an ape-like creature with
muscular legs that were bent under a pair of monstrous breasts jutting
impudently forward like floating zeppelins, their dark skin stretched and
shiny in the morning light.  Alisha had been carrying their increasingly
burdensome weight for so many days now that although the sight of them was
not a complete surprise, it still came as a shock.

   But it was her head that immediately cornered her attention, and for a
moment she hardly recognized herself.  The last time she had gazed upon her
reflection back at her apartment, her head had been adorned with thick,
black lustrous tresses.  As she had suspected, they were history now, but
on closer inspection she saw that the boys hadn't completely shaved her
scalp - although it would have been kinder if they had.  No, they had
decided to make her look even more ridiculous by leaving a thin Mohican
patch on top, and two more tufts just above each ear!  The effect was both
clown-like and, for a girl who had always spent so much time and money on
her hair, deeply humiliating!

   Stunned by the preposterous spectacle she presented, Alisha dug her toes
into the earth and pulled back on her leash.  Taken unawares, Richard
stopped and turned, but after following her gaze, a broad grin spread upon
his lips.

   "Oh, yes," he sniggered.  "We thought a little haircut might be in order
before you received your new guests."

   He tugged on the leash and Alisha lurched forward with a whimper. 
"Please, take me back," she whined.  "I can't let anybody see me like
this!"

   "Don't be silly!" Matthew crooned, patting her on her almost-bald pate.
"You look adorable - and I think Mr.  Price and his assistant will think so
too!"





   Chapter Twenty-Five

   "Well I must say, Martin," Gretchen said with a sarcastic smile.  "You
really know how to spoil a girl!"

   Martin Price sat on the end of the bed and looked out of the window
across the fields.  They had been taken to the poky little guest cottage by
Jacob Johnson's housekeeper who had informed them that dinner would be
served in the farmhouse at seven, and after giving Gretchen a perfunctory
onceover, had then left them alone together.

   He glanced over at the tall, blonde law intern, and said, "I've already
explained that this is a business trip, sanctioned by the highest levels of
the company.  This wasn't my idea at all."

   "So you've been constantly reminding me," Gretchen said, folding her
arms underneath her small, pert breasts.  "And all this secrecy!  What
could be so important that `both our futures are in the balance', as you
put it?"

   Her whimsical tone irritated Martin, although it was understandable that
until she saw what was going on at this madhouse of a farm, she wouldn't be
able to grasp the seriousness of it all.  After witnessing Alisha's utter
degradation the previous week, Martin had quietly hoped that he might be
spared from any further involvement in this sick enterprise, whatever the
hell in fact it was.  Unfortunately, Mr.  Van Hook had no intention of
letting him get out of it that easily, and when he had instructed him to
bring Gretchen along too, Martin had got the distinct impression that they
were all being watched very closely by the powers that be at Bale, Thomas
and Farringdon.

   "Trust me, Gretchen," Martin said.  "If you want your promising start to
your legal career to continue, you will do as you are told, and keep your
pretty mouth firmly shut!"

   Gretchen blinked at him, and for once words failed the sharp-witted
young woman.  Martin too, had surprised himself with his
uncharacteristically blunt words.  He was an educated and civilized man who
always treated his staff with the utmost respect.  But these were unusual
circumstances to say the least, and the simple fact was, he was extremely
vexed about this whole situation which seemed to be spiraling way out of
control.  He still hadn't recovered from witnessing Alisha put on that
degrading pony-show performance in the paddock, nor from his unexpected and
shamefully aroused reaction to it.

   To make matters worse, it didn't help that he found Gretchen extremely
attractive, and again, he couldn't help wondering if Van Hook had somehow
picked up on this, which may very well be the reason why they were now
sharing this stark country bedroom together.  It seemed absurd, but he was
beginning to feel as though he had been unwittingly selected to participate
in some kind of depraved sexual-social experiment!

   It couldn't have been coincidence either, that Alisha and Gretchen
worked closely together with him at the firm, and Martin had always been
only too aware that they competed for his attention.  Of course, having
these two attractive, intelligent interns vying for his affections had
stoked his male ego, but as a professional he had never attempted to take
things any further with either of them - no matter how tempting that may
have been.  Now here he was, alone with Gretchen, while somewhere on this
weird farm, Alisha was being held captive and, he could only guess, being
subjected to another humiliating ordeal.  Before long, the two girls were
sure to meet up - just what was Mr.  Van Hook expecting to happen then?

   *

   With a sigh, Martin reluctantly laid his iPad to one side.  He had spent
the past hour dealing with e-mails and writing up a work-related report,
but with nothing else outstanding on his task list, he was forced to return
his attention to this world of insanity in which he now found himself
trapped.  Back in his own workplace, he was governed by rules, precedents
and strict conformity, and he reveled in the control and discipline it
required of him.  Out here on this farm, the atmosphere fizzed with a dark
and unstable latent energy, ready at any moment to explode into a frenzy of
cruelty and depravity - always based upon the promise of perverted,
unhealthy sex.  And as much as he hated himself for it, Martin could not
deny how much he had felt its powerful allure as soon as he had driven
through the front gate.

   With this carnal fervor simmering in the back of his mind, he had
decided to bury himself in work in order to distract himself from the
sleeping form of Gretchen over on the bed.  Now, feeling a little guilty,
he took the opportunity to gaze at his leisure upon her long, slender legs
under tight blue jeans.  Her blonde fringe had fallen across her eyes and
she was still clutching her Samsung smartphone as she gently breathed
through slightly parted lips.  Not for the first time on this bizarre farm,
Martin felt his penis swelling at the sight of one of his female interns -
except when he had witnessed Alisha in bondage, it had triggered an
altogether different, and shameful kind of lust!

   A few weeks previously, he had taken both Gretchen and Alisha to lunch,
officially to discuss a work project, but also - as all three were
intuitively aware - as a rather cheeky excuse to explore the personal
vibrations that had clearly developed between them.  It had been naughty
and exciting because not only was it unethical for him to have personal
relations with an intern, it was also a violation of company regulations.
But because of the close nature of their professional relationship, Martin
had found himself in a position where he had a legitimate excuse to
literally mix business with pleasure without attracting the attention of
his superiors - or so it had seemed.

   As he had enjoyed his salad whilst listening to the two bright young law
students verbally jousting with each other in an attempt to score brownie
points with him, Martin had reveled in the subtle body language, the covert
glances from Gretchen, the slight but unmistakable thrust of Alisha's
generous bust, each of them attempting to outdo the other under a veil of
conviviality and comradeship.

   Martin had on occasion caught himself pondering what it might be like to
take things further with one, or indeed both of them, but of course he knew
that it was never going to happen.  Indeed the girls were almost certainly
using their sexuality to gain a professional advantage and nothing more -
should Martin have been foolhardy enough to suggest anything untoward, he
would probably have been facing an embarrassing, if kindly, let down from
both of them.

   And so they had let it hang there, this whiff of sexual anticipation
that had most certainly, for him at least, added spice to his often trying
workdays.  The concept of intimate involvement with Alisha and Gretchen,
either together or individually, would remain just that - an idea and a
fantasy, which was a much safer place for it.

   But then he had received that fateful summons from David Van Hook, and
everything had changed dramatically.  Alisha was now a slave, not even
being treated as human, and Martin had been coerced into witnessing the
poor woman's utter degradation.  An unbidden image of her galloping around
the paddock, stark naked except for her bridle, headdress and butt-plug
tail, forced its way into his mind.  He could still clearly see her
glistening black skin, her rippling thigh muscles, and most of all, the
look of abject shame in her beautiful eyes as she had glanced briefly into
his!

   A sharp knock at the door snapped him out of his shameful reverie and as
he jumped smartly out of his chair, he became aware of the huge erection
that had grown in his pants.  Startled by the noise, Gretchen opened her
eyes, and before he could hide it, immediately spotted his bulging crotch.
She blinked, looked up at him quizzically, and sat up.

   The illusion is already disintegrating!  Our hypocritical little
flirting game is over!  Martin thought desperately.  We're rats in a cage
and there's nowhere to hide!  Before he or Gretchen could say anything,
there was another impatient rap at the door.





   Chapter Twenty-Six

   Gretchen rubbed her eyes and climbed off the bed while Martin answered
the door.  She hadn't intended to fall asleep, and having spotted the
obvious erection under Martin's pants, she suddenly felt oddly vulnerable.
Had he been getting aroused watching her while she dozed?

   Although a little taken unawares at first, Gretchen now smiled to
herself.  If she was indeed the cause of Martin's excitement - and why
wouldn't she be?  - she was finally winning her war of attrition with
Alisha.  Although the two interns got on well enough together, there was no
doubting the rivalry that sizzled between them.  Physically, you couldn't
have brought together a more unlikely pair - Gretchen was lean, blonde and
pale, while Alisha's skin was rich and dark, and her curves voluptuous
beyond description.

   Although she would never openly admit it, Gretchen was privately jealous
of Alisha.  She had keenly observed the lustful looks that the dignified
African-American girl constantly received from her male colleagues at Bale,
Thomas and Farringdon.  Oh sure, Gretchen got them too, but somehow the men
seemed to regard Alisha with a certain awe that Gretchen never seemed to
command.  Anyhow, those losers had never been of any interest to her. 
Martin was the prize, and out here she was finally alone with him, although
the circumstances of their trip remained a total mystery to her.

   When Martin had taken her to one side and said that he needed her for a
special assignment, Gretchen had been ecstatic.  Alisha had been on leave
for a fortnight - family issues, or something - leaving Gretchen in a
position to work on Martin without any competition.  She had until now been
a little disappointed that she hadn't had more success with her efforts. 
In fact, Martin had seemed rather distracted for the whole week.  It was
almost as if Gretchen needed Alisha's presence to bounce off, but just when
she was beginning to regret her combatant's absence, Martin had asked her
on this weekend road trip and Gretchen had jumped at it.

   On the way up, Martin had again seemed preoccupied, but Gretchen had
been her usual chatty and irreverent self, and had managed to elicit the
odd smile or chuckle from him as they had driven out into the countryside.
This had come as something of a relief.  It wasn't like Gretchen to doubt
herself, but she had been beginning to wonder if she wasn't flogging a dead
horse here.  Despite her considerable charms, Gretchen knew that she would
always be battling the issue of race.  Martin and Alisha were both
African-Americans of course, and Gretchen couldn't have been whiter.  Not
that race had even been an issue between the three of them, but it was a
natural and biological fact that Martin was more likely to be attracted to
one of his own kind.

   Curious to finally discover what was going on around here, Gretchen
stretched, quickly examined her face in the mirror, ran her fingers through
her long, blonde hair, and went out to the small living room.  Martin was
standing at the open front door, talking to a squat, ruddy-faced man,
dressed in dungarees and rubber boots.  He looked like such a caricature of
a country rube that Gretchen would have burst out laughing if it weren't
for the rather unsettling sneer playing on his rubbery lips.

   *

   "You are heading for a serious whipping, you stubborn cow!" Matthew
panted as he yanked on Alisha's leash.

   Alisha knew it, but right now she didn't care.  Anything was preferable
to having to face Martin again.  Somehow, after their previous encounter at
the paddock, she had managed to convince herself that he would not be
coming back.  That his last visit had been due to some deranged mission
that he had obviously had no prior knowledge of, and after reluctantly
completing it had returned to the city and wiped the memory of `Alisha the
show pony' from his mind.  Given the hopeless circumstances in which she
now found herself, it was a foolish, unrealistic belief, but one she had
felt compelled to cling to nonetheless.  Martin - handsome, intelligent
Martin - epitomized all that she was fighting for.  During periodic moments
of mental lucidity, it was always his face that appeared in her mind's eye
when she was able to refocus upon her life and career back in the city. 
That he had already seen her put on such a totally disgraceful performance
the previous week had been almost too much for her to bear - and now these
relentlessly spiteful white boys were telling her that he was back!

   With these frenzied thoughts whizzing uncontrollably around in her head,
Alisha dug her toes deeper into the dirt and braced her powerful thighs
again - and with the intoxicating drug cocktail they had been feeding her
enhancing her natural athleticism, Matthew was simply unable to budge her!

   But just when she thought that she might get away with it, she heard the
all too familiar sound of Master Jacob's voice, and just like that, all of
the strength abruptly drained out of her.

   "What's this?  Disobedience?  I thought we were past all that!"

   There followed a sharp crackle, accompanied by the most intense pain
searing the cleft of her exposed buttocks.  Alisha's once-virgin asshole
had been violated on numerous occasions in recent weeks, but she was
ill-prepared for this latest attack upon the most tender of places!

   "Aaai!" Her legs buckled and she toppled forward, squashing her
milk-laden udders beneath her.

   "Get up or I'll give you another jolt!" Jacob snarled.

   Alisha had learned much about coping with pain and discomfort over the
past few weeks, but the cattle prod was simply too much for her. 
Struggling back upright with Matthew's help, she looked woefully up at her
hated master.

   "P-please, Master Jacob!  Don't make me!  I can't let him see me like
this!"

   "Who?  Your ex-boss?" Jacob smirked.  "Is that what you are worried
about?  Do you honestly think he still finds you attractive after watching
you in the paddock last week?  After that disgusting performance, he'll
never see you in the same light again!  You might as well accept that you
are nothing more than an animal to him now.  Look at you, groveling on the
ground with dirt all over your monstrous tits!  You're a mess!  Matthew,
get her into the shed and give her a wash down - and then get her udders
lubed up ready for a milking."

   Oh, please no!  Surely they're not going to milk me in front of Martin?

   But in spite of her gathering dread, the cattle prod in Master Jacob's
hand was incentive enough for Alisha to allow herself to be led towards the
milking shed.  As Richard slid the door to one side, Alisha could feel her
heart thumping rapidly.  Shuffling into the shed, Alisha saw to her dismay
that quite a little crowd had assembled to witness her humiliating ritual,
and as much as it pained her to do so, she couldn't help but search out
Martin's face.  Sure enough, there he was, his elegant features displaying
that same expression of disgust mixed with pity that surely confirmed the
sad truth of Master Jacob's words - it could never be the same between them
again!

   Just then, before shamefully lowering her eyes, Alisha caught a glimpse
of a young blonde woman standing beside Martin.  Startled, she looked
sharply back up again, but before she had time to refocus her eyes, Richard
gripped her by the chin and jerked her head up.  Alisha instinctively
twisted her neck as she tried to get another look at the familiar-looking
woman in the corner, but another pair of hands was upon her now, and then
she could taste cold metal as her jaws were forced apart, and a leather
strap was fastened under her chin.

   "Open her up fully," Master Jacob said as the straps were tightened, and
then Alisha heard a screw being turned beside her ear as her mouth was
gradually pulled open wider and wider.

   "Ngah!" was all Alisha could manage, her jaws instantly starting to
ache.

   "Come on, Daisy!" Matthew said, unhooking her leash.  "It's time to get
you cleaned up!"

   *

   Gretchen stood awkwardly in the corner, very conscious of the fact that
she was the only female present.  Other than Martin, she didn't recognize
any of the men in the little barn, which, she was fast concluding, was a
good thing.  Although she had been kept totally in the dark about what to
expect this weekend, she had wondered if other law interns from Bale,
Thomas, and Farringdon might have been in attendance as part of a company
field trip.  Now she was convinced that she was involved in something
entirely unrelated to work - although she still had no clue as to what it
could be about.

   One thing she did know was that she was becoming increasingly
uncomfortable amongst this quietly chatting group of farmhands - and she
was very glad that Martin was standing beside her!  There was an unnatural
atmosphere in the air, making her think of an eerie satanic cult awaiting
the victim of a ritual sacrifice.  Just the thought of it made her shiver
and she edged closer to her boss, impulsively slipping her hand into his.
For a second, it felt as though he might pull away, but when she gripped
tighter, he relented, and Gretchen thought again of his protruding erection
back in the cottage.  Whatever this weird business was, she couldn't wait
to be alone with him again and press home her advantage.

   She was just about to ask him what was happening, when the door slid
open, casting a square of bright sunlight across the bare floor.  To her
happy surprise, Gretchen now felt Martin squeezing her fingers, but her
attention was quickly directed toward the four figures entering the barn.

   She recognized that rude little man Jacob strutting in first, followed
by two young men who appeared to be leading a large black sow on a leash.
But there was something not quite right about the animal's awkward gait as
the group moved beneath the lights.  At first, Gretchen's brain was unable
to process what she was actually seeing, but then her mouth fell silently
open as she realized she was actually looking at a female human being!  But
the term `human' seemed wholly inappropriate for the ridiculous specimen
now squatting in the center of the room.  First off, Gretchen had never
seen a pair of breasts like it!  They were absolutely enormous, and jutted
out rudely between the woman's bent knees as if they were filled with
helium!  And then there was her almost completely shaven head which
contrasted with the unsightly tangles of hair that sprouted from the
woman's armpits!

   If the intent here had been to humiliate this poor black girl, then they
couldn't have done a better job!  And as the beastlike creature looked over
in her direction, its deeply pained expression quickly dispelled any brief
notion that they were about to witness some kind of bizarre artistic
performance - clearly, this unfortunate wretch was not being degraded like
this through choice.

   Gretchen had taken in all these details with one startled glance, and
her next immediate thought was that she was at risk of suffering a similar
fate herself.  She pulled on Martin's hand but he gave it another squeeze
and right at that moment, Gretchen found herself looking straight into the
eyes of the crouching black girl before the latter quickly averted her
gaze. It took another bewildering moment of mental computation before
Gretchen drew a sharp breath - she would have recognized those beautiful,
almond-shaped eyes anywhere!

   Alisha!

   Apparently sensing Gretchen's growing alarm, Martin murmured, "It's
alright.  Don't do anything rash.  Just stay where you are."

   As much as the idea appealed to her, Gretchen didn't think she would
have been capable of running off anyway, because her legs suddenly felt
like lead as she watched the two young men who had brought Alisha into the
barn unhook her leash and proceed to fit a sinister-looking black harness
over her head.  They quickly secured it to her collar with a strap that ran
over Alisha's shaved crown, and another horizontally circling her head just
above the jawline.  This was attached to a pair of thin steel rods which
were now being roughly jammed between Alisha's pearly white teeth! 
Gretchen stared in horrified fascination as they proceeded to turn a little
key on the side of the horrible device which slowly opened up until Alisha
was eventually forced into a grotesque open-mouthed grin!

   The distress poor Alisha was suffering was all too apparent as she was
then maneuvered by the two young white men into the center of the circle of
male onlookers.  Listening to their excited chatter as Alisha was hosed
down like an animal, Gretchen simply couldn't reconcile this gurgling,
naked, freak of nature with the statuesque African-American law student she
had been working with for the past year!







   Chapter Twenty-Seven

   Just as when he had first witnessed Alisha galloping wildly around the
paddock, Martin found himself gripped by a terrible emotional dilemma.  On
an intellectual level he was both disgusted and saddened by what these evil
white folk had done to his young work colleague.  If anything, she had been
lowered even further with her beautiful long black hair now gone, and her
previously voluptuous breasts bloated out of all proportion to her body. 
There was nothing arousing about this hunched apparition, now being cruelly
doused with cold water in front of a rapt, male audience.

   So why then was his prick once more stiffening inside his pants?  He had
never been into sexual perversion of any kind, and the only reason he was
bearing witness to this latest sickening spectacle was because his precious
career depended upon it.  But there was no way he could refute his body's
amorous reaction to Alisha's awful predicament, and his cheeks burned with
shame because of it.

   And it seemed that the emotions of shame and humiliation were central to
Mr.  Van Hook's unexplained purpose here.  Martin had already figured out
why Van Hook had ordered him to bring Gretchen along on this seemingly
pointless errand - as a friend, and rival, her attendance here was sure to
push Alisha's sense of worthlessness and self-disgust to the limit!

   Martin had caught the distraught expression in Alisha's eyes just before
the head harness had been fitted onto her, and if she hadn't spotted
Gretchen in that instant, she would be painfully aware of her presence soon
enough.  And what must Gretchen be thinking right now?  Martin could hear
her rapid breathing beside him and he made sure to keep a tight grip on her
hand just in case she decided to make a run for it.  Van Hook had assured
him that Gretchen would be treated with respect and come to no harm whilst
here on the farm, but how could the poor girl be certain of that after the
unexpectedly shocking display she was now beholding?

   After her undignified public shower was over, Alisha was guided by the
white youths onto a low wooden dais beneath an iron frame.  Martin had been
so preoccupied with the preposterous appearance of his young protégé that
he hadn't noticed the large black dildo that now sat rudely upright in the
center of the platform.

   While one of the boys cuffed Alisha's raised arms to the metal
crossbeam, the other lifted one of her thighs and guided the tip of the
phallus towards her crotch.  After a few seconds of wriggling accompanied
by some gargled protestations form their hapless victim, they succeeded in
lowering her onto the dildo and the force of gravity did the rest.  Alisha
was now directly in front of them and with her wrists secured both to the
crossbeam and the collar around her neck, she had no option other than to
face her seemingly entranced audience.  Martin himself dearly wanted to
look away, but he discovered to his chagrin that he was unable to tear his
eyes away from his once-favorite intern.

   Two thick bushes of hair now flourished under her arms, and from what he
could glimpse beneath her mammoth breasts, another large thicket covered
her genitalia surrounding the visible base of the dido.  Unable to help
himself, Martin looked back up at Alisha's face, pausing briefly at her
gaping mouth and wiggling tongue before finally engaging her eyes.  But
Alisha wasn't looking back at him - instead she was staring at Gretchen
with a look of absolute horror in her usually gorgeous eyes, now as round
as saucers as she uttered an unintelligible noise from the back of her
throat.

   The poor kid looks as though she wants to die right there on the spot!
How can she possibly be feeling with Gretchen seeing her in this mortifying
situation?

   Alisha tore her stricken eyes away from Gretchen's face and looked down
at their entwined hands.  Martin instinctively freed his fingers - but not
before noticing a little tear develop in the corner of Alisha's eye.  The
reality of what he was doing to her now came into sharp focus and he
suddenly despised himself for his inability to stand up against Van Hook
and the unfeeling white establishment he represented.

   Oh, how Martin wanted to tell Alisha that she could find a way back from
this horror.  He knew that she was a strong and resourceful girl, and how
hard she had worked to better herself.  In time, her hair would grow back,
and surely they could do something about having her breasts reduced.  Then
she could resume her studies, with nothing to worry about as far as he and
Gretchen were concerned, and they could all pick up where they left off. 
But not only was he forbidden to say such things, he knew in his heart that
they were patently untrue - having brought her down this far, Van Hook and
his sick circle of accomplices were never going to let Alisha go!

   *

   For a blissful moment, Alisha thought she had escaped from this
relentless nightmare.  Her body became quite weightless and her leering
audience zoomed far away, finally providing her with the privacy she
desperately needed.  In this state of detachment, none of this farcical
drama mattered and she almost pitied them in their basal cruelty.  But
another part of her brain told her that this karmic state was merely a
cerebral safety device to buffer against the emotional overload she was now
experiencing - and it wasn't going to last out for long.

   Sure enough, with a light-speed rush she was suddenly hunched back down
on the dais, all of her senses alert to her devastating situation: the
plugging sensation of the thick phallus deep inside her lubricated vagina,
the sight of her disgusting udders wobbling in front of her, and most of
all Martin and Gretchen, holding hands!

   Gretchen!  Her work colleague and rival!  The last person on planet
earth that she needed to see her like this!  The sight of the tall,
attractive blonde, with what surely looked like a slight smile of
satisfaction on her rosebud lips, had an even more devastating effect on
Alisha than Martin's arrival had done.

   Even if Alisha ever succeeded in turning back the clock and returned to
her city life, how could she ever look Gretchen in the eye again after
this? There would always be that knowing look in the white girl's eyes,
even if Martin swore her to secrecy.  With a sudden epiphany that tore her
heart in half, Alisha now knew that their rivalry was over.  Gretchen had
won.  Of course she had.  Martin was holding her hand, wasn't he?  All this
time, while Alisha had been suffering one abuse after the other - valiantly
clinging to her inner dream of eventual liberation - Gretchen had been
working her way into Martin's affections.  With Alisha out of the frame and
unable to usurp her, the playing field had been Gretchen's to control, and
she had obviously grasped the opportunity with both hands!

   And now I haven't even got a chance of fighting back, Alisha groaned
wretchedly inside her head.  Look at me now, and look at her!

   As if tuning into her thoughts, Martin abruptly pulled his hand away,
which provided Alisha with a momentary crumb of comfort until she heard the
sound of Master Jacob's voice.  "Mister Martin, it's time for you to butter
Alisha's milk-jugs, if you please."

   Alisha's view of her work colleagues was briefly blocked by Matthew's
grinning face as he placed a metal pail on the dais in front of her. 
Alisha didn't even have to look to know that it would be brimming with the
sickly smelling butter oil that the boys always coated her breasts with
before a milking session.  This, she had deduced, was the potion that kept
her breast tissue and skin firm and buoyant - ironically something that her
former, more sensibly proportioned self, used to take great pride in!

   But apart from doing a far better job of improving skin tensility than
any other commercial product she had ever encountered, the Johnsons'
homemade butter oil had another, rather more unsettling side effect.  It
was usually young Matthew's job to slather the oil over her bloated
breasts, and he had become rather adept at handling them.  So much so, that
after a few minutes of feeling his hands massaging the oil into her skin,
Alisha would rapidly find herself spiraling into a state of deep arousal.

   Getting turned on during such a demeaning business was embarrassing
enough, but now she was going to have to try and control herself while none
other than Martin Price actually touched her sensitive boobs while she was
impaled on a huge, black dildo - and Gretchen would be witnessing the whole
thing!

   At first Martin made no attempt to move - another sign, Alisha hoped,
that he too was here under some form of duress.  That wish was duly
confirmed when Master Jacob said, "Mr.  Price.  I would remind you that I
have been instructed to report back to your superiors should you fail to
carry out any of your duties."

   Despite the superficial reverence with which Master Jacob was addressing
her immediate boss, Alisha was now under no illusions about who was in
charge here on the farm.  And that meant Martin would have no choice other
than to comply or face whatever repercussions were due.  As much as he had
respected her before, Alisha doubted that he would jeopardize his career to
save her blushes, and sure enough, albeit with a loud sigh, he stepped up
in front of her.

   "Just dip your hands in the bucket and then give them a good kneading,"
Matthew advised helpfully.  "The harder you squeeze them, the more she
likes it!"

   Alisha closed her eyes in mortification as Martin squatted down behind
the pail, her buoyant breasts quivering between them.  She could feel
Gretchen's eyes upon her as she heard Martin's fingers squelching into the
sticky oil.  How could this moment possibly get any worse?  Well, that
question was answered a second later when she heard the telltale electronic
whirr from beneath her as the big black dido suddenly juddered into life!

   Oh, you horrible, wicked pigs!  You're not going to give me the
slightest chance, are you?

   As the vibrator began to churn around inside her, Alisha felt Martin's
fingers lightly touching her breasts and she emitted a grunt of surprise.
Hearing her, he immediately withdrew his hand, but then after a brief
pause, he placed a palm under each of her wobbling breasts.  As he slowly
began to move his fingers, Alisha gulped in a deep breath and then snorted
through her nose like a lowly beast.  The dildo was already doing its vile
job down below, and the tantalizing contact of Martin's hands threatened to
send her rapidly into a frenzy.

   More than once she had fantasized about how it would feel to be touched
intimately by this well-built and handsome man, but never in her wildest
fantasies had she imagined that their first sexually-based encounter would
be under such demeaning circumstances as this!

   "Come on, man," Master Jacob said.  "Get her worked up.  The hornier she
is, the higher quality milk she produces."

   Alisha's utter devastation at being treated like a mere animal was fast
being overwhelmed by her growing sense of euphoria.  The daily dosage of
whatever they were keeping her on was gradually altering her physiology,
not just externally, but within every cell of her being.  Not only did she
look like a human-animal hybrid, but her bodily responses were becoming
increasingly bestial by the day!

   As Martin smeared more of the butter milk onto her udders, Alisha's
knees began to jerk spasmodically and she started emitting guttural grunts
from the back of her throat.  Unable to stop it, Alisha let herself go as
the first wave of her orgasm pulsed through her, and she opened her eyes
and gazed up lovingly at the man of her dreams - but the look he was giving
her back was filled with anything but love!





   Chapter Twenty-Eight

   It was difficult for Martin to figure out exactly where to put his
hands, such were the colossal proportions of Alisha's drug-enhanced
breasts. Quite apart from the unseemliness of having to touch the young
lady in a most improper way with an audience of white farmers standing
directly behind him, Martin simply felt unequipped to deal with these
freakishly large appendages!

   Although not a womanizer, he wasn't exactly inexperienced with the
fairer sex, and he had most certainly never had any doubts about his
masculinity.  But what exactly was he dealing with here?  He was unable to
equate the gasping, trembling creature in front of him with the Alisha that
he had become so fond of at work.  And now she was looking at him with a
lustful gaze that almost made him want to run out of the barn!  Could she
possibly be enjoying this twisted depravity, after all?

   Aware of the wholly undeserved precariousness of his work situation,
Martin continued to coat his hands in the revolting oil and smear it all
over Alisha's shiny jugs.  The buzz of the vibrator grinding away between
Alisha's thighs, her garbled utterings, and the squelching sound of
Martin's hands moving over her skin, were the only sounds in the room. 
Then Alisha started to jerk violently and an absurdly bestial grunting
sound reverberated from the back of her throat.

   Oh shit, she's coming!  I don't believe this!

   Martin was forced to step back quickly as Alisha's gravity-defying
udders danced wildly before him.  She threw her head back, her mouth still
thrust apart into a wide and imbecilic grin, and then her whole body tensed
as she drew in a deep lungful of air.

   "That's my girl," Jacob said, after Alisha's shaven head had slumped
forward.  "Boys, fetch the milk buckets."

   Martin just about stopped himself from wiping his dripping hands on his
shirt while Jacob's sons quickly replaced the buttermilk pail with two more
empty buckets.  He looked helplessly back at the line of spectators in the
vain hope that somebody might step in and relieve him from this ungodly
chore.

   "Come on," Jacob said.  "Start milking her before she comes down from
her high.  It's the oxytocin in her bloodstream that intensifies the
aphrodisiacal quality of her produce."

   What the hell did that bumpkin just say?

   Martin nodded numbly as if he should have known this already, and then
hesitantly at first, he placed his thumb and forefinger around one of
Alisha's dark, distended nipples and gently pulled.  Martin had never
milked any kind of animal in his life, but even so, he was ill-prepared for
the powerful spray of white liquid that issued forth from Alisha's teat,
totally overshooting the bucket and splattering over the barn floor!

   "Don't waste it, man!" Jacob snarled.  "There are customers willing to
pay top dollar for that nectar!  And get to work on the other nipple at the
same time.  We'll be here all day at this rate!"

   Again feeling in some way negligent, Martin took hold of Alisha's other
protuberant nub, and this time he pointed them both into their respective
buckets before giving each one a tug and a squeeze.  As the sound of
Alisha's breast milk hitting the bottom of the metal buckets reverberated
around the room, Martin heard his deviant audience mutter in approval.  It
felt as though he had just passed some kind of bizarre rite of passage, and
a part of him actually felt a somewhat guilty sense of achievement at
having managed to accomplish this awkwardly personal task.

   As the buckets began to fill up, Martin settled into a rhythm that he
found wasn't altogether unpleasant.  For her part, Alisha seemed to have
drifted off into a kind of semi-consciousness, induced no doubt, by the
whirring vibrator inside her as well as what must have been an overwhelming
sense of relief judging from the high pressure with which her milk was
still being ejected.  In spite of his early sense of revulsion, Martin was
now feeling rather proud of the fact that he was being permitted in some
way to assist the poor girl - and his difficulty in even thinking of her as
human at this particular moment made his job just that little bit easier to
handle.

   There had been more than a few times over the past year when he had
caught himself fantasizing about having sex with Alisha Royce.  But the
desirable woman that figured in his nocturnal dreams was a world apart from
this slobbering beast!  Sadly, he realized, Alisha the dignified law
student, had simply ceased to exist.  And in truth, how could she possibly
be expected to come back from this?

   When Alisha's milk had finally filled the two buckets, Martin halted his
milking action and Jacob's boys took them away.  Relieved that it was over,
Martin straightened up and prayed that his duty was done for the day -
alas, he couldn't have been more wrong.

   "I don't know if you are aware, but one of my best customers also
happens to be one of your very own employers," Jacob said.  "Our colleague
Dr.  Schafer has discovered that Daisy's enhanced milk produce has a
powerful effect on the virility of middle-aged and elderly men.  It's
possible that Mr.  Van Hook may ask for your opinion about this batch, so
why don't you go ahead and take a free sample - direct from the tap, so to
speak."

   *

   Outlandish didn't begin to describe it!  Grotesque, weird, barbaric,
came a lot closer.  Gretchen watched mesmerized, while her boss pulled
alternately on each of Alisha's long, dark, nipples, powerful jets of white
milk loudly spurting into the two buckets with a force that showed no sign
of letting up.

   Such was the entrancing effect of this outrageous scene that Gretchen's
initial state of shock had now settled into a detached curiosity.  At first
she had been gripped by an all-consuming urge to get the hell out of this
lunatic asylum, but a sudden image of herself strapped into the frame with
her own breasts implausibly enlarged to the point of permanent ruin had
given her pause enough to remain.

   That sense of danger had now passed, and she was beginning to understand
that her part in this obscene rite was to contribute to Alisha's
dismantling simply by being there to see it.  Gretchen didn't need a
question and answer session to deduce that Alisha had been somehow coerced
into this awful predicament, despite the two farm boys' assertion that she
was actually deriving pleasure from it.  The true nature of the horror that
Alisha had to be suffering was suddenly underlined by the powerful orgasm
that juddered through her body, and Gretchen stared in fascination at the
way Alisha's eyes rolled around in abandonment!

   One of the things about Alisha that Gretchen had always admired and
envied was the immense aura of self-control that she exuded as she went
about her work.  This was a young African-American professional woman with
poise and purpose, and Gretchen had to admit that she had modelled more
than a few of her own mannerisms on those of her rival.  Evidently,
somebody very powerful - not to mention, extremely sick-minded - had
observed the same traits, and as part of some sort of social experiment,
had set about systematically stripping away every last vestige of Alisha's
self-restraint.  And watching the wretched girl jerking around on the
buzzing dildo, with glutinous droplets of milk dangling from her nipples,
they had surely succeeded!

   Sharp girl that she was, Gretchen had already figured out from Martin's
uncharacteristic mental impotence that this crazed directive had been
issued from the highest echelons of Bale, Thomas, and Farringdon.  And
intentionally or not, Jacob had just confirmed her suspicions by mentioning
David Van Hook, one of the most powerful senior partners at the firm!

   So now Gretchen figured if she played her cards right, she could take
advantage of this insanity to her full benefit.  If she got with the
program and provided her own personal input into Alisha's suffering, then
who knew how many brownie points she might score back at work?  At the same
time, she could consolidate her fledgling position with Martin by bringing
Alisha down even further in front of him.  Suddenly this whole thing was
becoming a win-win situation!

   As she turned over these tantalizing prospects, Martin squatted down in
front of the helpless black girl again, and lowering his head, raised
Alisha's left breast with his hand, and then to Gretchen's breathless
amazement, he closed his lips around her distended teat.  As he started to
suckle her, Alisha's eyes rolled back in their sockets, and she let out a
high pitched whine of ecstasy.  From her viewpoint at the side, Gretchen
could see that the impressive lump in Martin's pants had returned with a
vengeance - and not entirely to her surprise, this perverted display was
starting to have a rather stimulating effect on her as well!





   Chapter Twenty-Nine

   "I can't do this," Martin said, looking at the two large, blue
suppositories in his hand.  They were back at their little guest cottage,
just the three of them, Martin Price, J.D., his attractive young assistant,
Gretchen...  and the creature that had once been Alisha.

   Exactly what is Alisha now?

   Martin could not pretend that he didn't still have a degree of sympathy
for the wretched young woman, but the more time he spent with her in this
current manifestation, the harder it was to relate her to the woman he
might just have fallen in love with.  He knew that there was absolutely no
chance of that happening now, especially with the way she had repeatedly
climaxed while he had been sucking on her obscenely distended nipples!

   He knew that she wasn't in this dire situation by her own choice, but
there was no hiding the fact that she was drawing a great deal of physical
gratification from her demeaning treatment.  Yes, these evil white folk had
drugged her and fucked with her mind, but however it had come to pass, the
fact was that Alisha had changed mentally as well as physically.  This was
no longer the same person he had hoped to somehow save.

   To his chagrin, he was also suffering from a kind of post-coital
hangover.  Okay, they hadn't exactly had sex, but he had drunk enough of
her milk to put him on the verge of throwing up!  He could still taste it
in his throat now as he stood over the poor wretch.  Why had he drunk so
much of it?  For a while, he had felt powerless to stop swallowing as the
sticky issue had poured down his throat!  This had been the cause of much
merriment for all the uneducated rubes in the milking shed of course, most
likely because they had known it was going to happen.

   There had been something rather addictive about Alisha's `moo juice' -
how had that coarse expression just popped into his head?  - and it had
only been when Jacob's boys had laughingly coaxed him off Alisha's nipple,
that he had remembered where he was.  Filled with shame, he had returned to
Gretchen's side, but instead of being disgusted with him, the slim blonde
girl actually looked rather dreamy-eyed.  His mind in a whirl, and now
aware that his cock was pushing hard against his underwear, Martin had
tried to pull himself together as Jacob had issued him with his next set of
instructions.

   The walk back to their cottage had been totally surreal, Martin choosing
to follow behind because his erection simply refused to subside.  He had
watched in a daze as Matthew and Richard had led Alisha along the footpath
back to the cottage, the exhausted young woman waddling along clumsily on
the end of a leash between them.  Gretchen had taken his hand again, and
kept giving him these little nods and smiles that he found more worrying
than reassuring.

   The boys had left them at their front door with the parting caution that
Alisha should not be left out of their sight, and then Richard had
presented Martin with a plastic Ziploc bag containing two blue
suppositories.  Now it was just the three of them together in the little
kitchen.  Martin looked down at the cropped crown of Alisha's head below
him.  She was wobbling on her haunches and looked ready to keel over.  How
the dynamics of their little triangular alliance had shifted!

   "We could wait until tomorrow..." Martin said hopefully.

   "No," Gretchen said.  "They'll find out if we disobey them, I'm sure of
it.  You heard what Jacob said.  Our careers depend on doing this right. 
Besides, I think Alisha needs them real soon - she looks exhausted."

   Even though Gretchen sounded as though she had Alisha's best interests
at heart, Martin was beginning to think otherwise.  She no longer seemed
afraid of this place, and he sensed that she was now a lot more comfortable
with this vile situation than he was.  For some reason, while he had been
demeaning himself with Alisha in the milking shed, there had been a
noticeable change of mindset within Gretchen.

   "I'll tell you what," Gretchen said, holding out her hand.  "I'll do it.
Why don't you go and take a shower?  I can see how unsettled you are."

   Martin looked up at her, hating himself for his weakness.  Back in the
office he was the strong and purposeful one, and his girls were always
coming to him for advice and encouragement.  Now he felt emotionally
emasculated, although by no means physically.  If anything, his libido,
always strong, had been considerably amplified.  But it didn't feel like a
manly act as he tipped the hateful suppositories into Gretchen's palm.  She
squeezed his shoulder with the other hand and said, "Go on.  You've had a
tough day.  This is something better handled between us women."

   Glancing down at Alisha's abject form, Martin still had trouble
identifying her as a woman any more, but grateful for the unexpected
respite, he nodded distractedly and went into the bedroom.  Their overnight
bags were still on the dresser where they had left them, and the bed cover
remained imprinted with the shape of Gretchen's slender body.  Martin
slumped heavily on the bed, the sweet taste of Alisha's milk still strong
in his mouth.  He placed a hand over his crotch and absently stroked his
insistent erection through his pants.

   My dear God, I actually milked Alisha Royce today!  Milked her!  And
then I drank her maternal juices like a hungry infant!  How much more
intimate can you get with a person other than through actual coitus?

   But yet again, he couldn't reconcile that vulgar act with the kind of
sexual encounter he had always imagined having with Alisha.  In his
nocturnal dreams, there had been touching, kissing, and gentle, mutual
caressing.  Today, he had simply taken her bodily produce from her while
she had been powerless to stop him!

   Aware that he was still stroking his groin, Martin stood up abruptly and
went into the bathroom.

   *

   "So how on earth did this happen to you?" Gretchen asked, straddling one
of the kitchen stairs and resting her chin on her arms.  Crouching on the
floor in front of her, Alisha had allowed her head to hang forward, and
Gretchen took a moment to study the remaining little patch of fuzz on the
top of her head.

   "You must have made somebody very important, really, really mad for them
to do this to you, huh?"

   With some effort, the exhausted black girl managed to raise her face
towards Gretchen, but seemed to have some difficulty focusing her eyes. 
Her jaws remained cruelly jammed apart by the uncomfortable-looking gag,
and a steady stream of saliva ran profusely over her lower lip.

   "How silly of me," Gretchen said.  "You can't speak with that ridiculous
gadget in your mouth, can you?"

   She straightened up and then turned the little ratchet mechanism on the
side of the metal gag, forcing Alisha's mouth open a little wider.

   "Angh!" Alisha's eyes suddenly regained their focus.

   "Oops!  Sorry!" Gretchen tittered.

   Gradually she succeeded in closing the gag until she was able to free it
from behind Alisha's teeth.  She threw the saliva-soaked contraption into
the sink, and Alisha painfully wiggled her jaws.

   "Is that better?" Gretchen asked.

   "W-water," Alisha croaked.

   Gretchen found an enamel cup and filled it from the faucet.  Then she
retook her seat and held the cup to Alisha's lips.  As she watched her
colleague greedily swallow, Gretchen examined the collar to which Alisha's
wrist cuffs had been attached.  They were padlocked in place, and to her
knowledge, they hadn't provided Martin with a key.  In fact, apart from
giving them the suppositories, they hadn't left them with any specific
instructions at all expect to keep Alisha under close supervision at all
times.

   Alisha gulped back the last of the water, and exercised her jaws again.
Gretchen couldn't imagine how uncomfortable it must feel to have your jaws
stretched wide open like that for hours on end - and she hoped she would
never find out!  Another good reason for staying on the right side of these
depraved people.

   "Can you talk now?" Gretchen said, but Alisha remained silent and kept
her eyes lowered.  "I know it must be terribly embarrassing having me see
you like this, but I'm curious - Martin hasn't told me anything."

   Alisha raised her head again, but this time her eyes located the two
blue suppositories sitting near the edge of the table.  Although she had
been forced to absorb a great deal of startling information in past couple
of hours, Gretchen was a quick learner, and it was evident that the drugs
played a very central role in Alisha's subjugation.  If she hadn't been a
user before - and Gretchen seriously doubted that she had - Alisha's
expression suggested that she was fast becoming addicted to these things
now.

   Gretchen wanted to know more about what was contained within the shiny,
blue torpedo-shaped capsules because she was sure they would explain much
about what was going on with Alisha's altered physiology.  She had no way
of knowing what suffering Alisha had been subjected to recently, but even
the milking session she had observed today would have been way too much for
a normal person to handle.  Granted, Alisha looked to be out on her feet,
but if Gretchen had been the one tied to the dais, she would have probably
been in a coma by now!

   Gretchen picked up one of the tablets and waved it slowly past Alisha's
face, and the black girl's eyes tracked it back and forth intently. 
Observing Alisha's dilated pupils, and the way her pink tongue flickered
over her lips, Gretchen was now convinced that regardless of how these men
had first managed to compromise Alisha, getting her hooked on these
suppositories was an effective, not to mention humbling, way of keeping her
under control.

   Well, it was time to put that to the test.  Martin said he simply didn't
have it in him to anally administer Alisha's drugs, but Gretchen decided
that she did.  In fact, she discovered to her surprise that she was
actually looking forward to it.





   Chapter Thirty

   "I want you to lean forward onto your knees and elbows," the pretty
blonde girl said.  "Rest your cheek on the floor and stick your butt up in
the air."

   The pretty blonde girl?  What am I thinking of?  This is Gretchen, from
work!  A jealous colleague who used to follow me around and mimic my style.
Another painful reminder of my previously happy life back at the law firm.

   And just why was Gretchen, of all people, out here with Martin?  It was
as if the very last people on earth that she wanted to see her in this
demeaning condition had been hand-picked in order to maximize her emotional
suffering.  But what possible reason could anyone have to put her through
this?  Initially, Alisha recalled, Darius Nash had told her she would only
have to endure this terrible place for a couple of weeks.  She had been
through so much since her arrival that she had lost track of the days, but
she had to be nearing the end of this trial by now, surely?  The worrying
part was the way Master Jacob kept talking about Martin's responsibilities.
That had to mean that this horror had not been contrived by Nash at all,
but by some higher authority at the firm.  Although she had been in a
mental haze at the time, she was half-certain he had mentioned Mr.  Van
Hook's name back in the milking shed - and if a man as powerful as that was
involved, then the implications were too awful to contemplate!

   As tormenting as these questions were, they remained secondary to
Alisha's primary need right now, and sadly that was what her life had
boiled down to these days - basic needs.  Mercifully, her milking ordeal
was over - God, she could still feel Martin's wet lips closed around her
sensitive nipples!  - and that would not become an urgent concern again for
another forty-eight hours.  But now she needed her medicine badly, and as
much as it devastated her to have to prostrate herself on the floor in
front of Gretchen, if it was the only way she was going to get her badly
needed fix, then she had no other choice!

   As she began to topple forward, Gretchen caught her by the armpits - and
then immediately jerked her hands away and wiped them on her jeans.

   "Eew!  Gross!" Gretchen said.  When was the last time they shaved you?
Never?  Just look at those tangled forests!"

   Holding her by the forearms this time, Gretchen eased her forward onto
the floor.  Although her cheeks were burning with shame at Gretchen's quite
justified observation about her underarm hair, Alisha was not oblivious to
the note of amusement that carried through Gretchen's voice.

   Somewhere in her mind, after Martin had left them alone together in the
kitchen, Alisha had wondered if there was a faint chance she could persuade
Gretchen to help her get away from this rural hell.  That hope was
seriously diminished now as she pressed her cheek against the floor tiles.
Gretchen didn't seem particularly shocked at Alisha's plight at all.  If
anything, her former colleague now appeared to be more fascinated than
repulsed by Alisha's grotesque appearance.  As Gretchen moved around behind
her, Alisha felt her sphincter flexing in anticipation - yet another
embarrassing trait her body had recently adopted!

   "Oh, my goodness!  Here too?" she heard Gretchen exclaim.  "It's grown
all the way up to your butthole!" Now Alisha did hear a delighted giggle.
"They really have turned you into a wild animal, haven't they?"

   Alisha's shame at having her workmate commenting about the excessive
hair growth in the most private recesses of her body was tempered only be
the urgency with which she needed that suppository inside her.  It was
obvious by now that the capsules were responsible for her humiliating
breast expansion, as well as the clouded thinking bouts that frequently
washed over her, and to add insult, these awful people had ensured that she
physically craved the very thing that was destroying her life!

   But what was Gretchen waiting for?  Alisha was physically exhausted and
her knees ached on the kitchen tiles, as did her super-sensitive nipples
squashed beneath her body.  Once the required dosage had been administered,
she knew she would rapidly regain her strength, and with it for a short
period of time, clarity of thought.  She just needed Gretchen to get the
fuck on with it!

   "So do I just give it like, a quick shove?  Or do you take it slowly?"
Gretchen asked.

   Did she really just say that?  Does she think I care how the revolting
thing goes in?  She's making it sound like she is doing me a favor!

   Sadly for Alisha, the fact remained she would have to play whatever
silly games that Gretchen came up with if she wanted her fix.  That was the
hopelessly submissive position she had been relegated to.  Miserably, she
croaked, "S-slowly...  please."

   "Okay," Gretchen said.  "Here goes."

   Alisha's anus had become accustomed to being stretched by a variety of
foreign objects over recent weeks, but it still took her breath away when
she felt the fat capsule penetrate her tender opening as Gretchen suddenly
forced it deep inside her.

   "O-ooh!" Alisha gasped in pain and surprise.

   "There, it's done!" Gretchen said.  "Sorry for deceiving you, but it's
the best way.  Just like removing a Band-Aid!"

   Alisha stayed in position as she caught her breath, too tired to be
affronted by Gretchen's puerile drollery.  The main thing was it wouldn't
be long before the narcotics began to work their magic, and the terrible
hollowness deep in her gut would gradually disappear.  The downside was
that once her faculties returned, having to deal with Gretchen would be
even more unbearable, so Alisha resolved to remain on the floor with her
face averted for as long as possible.  However this plan was abruptly
terminated by Gretchen, who yanked her upright by the shoulders with
surprising strength, and Alisha found herself up on her knees facing the
chair which Gretchen had quickly reoccupied.

   As the familiar soothing warmth of the drugs started flowing through
her, Alisha now noticed the second capsule which Gretchen had left on the
table top.  In her anxiety, Alisha had temporarily forgotten that Matthew
and Richard always gave her at least two suppositories, one immediately
after the other.  There had to be a very good reason for that minimum
dosage and fearful that Gretchen was going to inadvertently leave her in a
semi-sated no-man's land, Alisha wheezed, "Other one..."

   "I'm sorry, what was that, honey?" Gretchen asked sweetly.

   Alisha nodded at the table again, and in a slightly stronger voice said,
"I must have both!"

   Gretchen glanced at the capsule but made no attempt to pick it up.  She
regarded Alisha curiously and said, "Look at you.  They've really got you
hooked, haven't they?  Don't worry, I'll give you your little fix, but
first I want to have that little chat, okay?"

   Alisha was most certainly not in any kind of mood to be having a
friendly conversation with her old rival under the current circumstances!
The first capsule was kicking in big time now, and as her cognitive
functions started coming to life, she was becoming increasingly more
self-conscious about her naked and freakishly transformed body.  The
overhead lights, the cool tiles beneath her bare toes, and most of all,
Gretchen's smirking white face, all started coming into sharp focus, along
with a sudden urgent need to cover herself.

   On the other hand, she instinctively knew that she really needed that
second capsule.  With her hands secured behind her head there was nothing
she could do except play Gretchen's game - so as much as it pained her,
Alisha, glumly nodded in compliance.

   "Excellent!" Gretchen said with a triumphant look in her eyes.  "So the
last I heard at the office, you had a family matter to attend to, and I
have to add, a lot of people have missed you - especially the men.  I have
too, although I'm sure you can imagine that it's given me a chance to get
closer to Martin."

   At the mention of her beloved mentor's name, Alisha forced herself to
look into her antagonist's eyes.  Just what had been going on at Bale,
Thomas, and Farringdon, while Alisha had been on her enforced `sabbatical'?

   "Oh, yes," Gretchen said, reading her mind.  "You know how much I want
him.  But with you there, I was always going to be playing second fiddle,
wasn't I?  After all, you were his `African Princess' with your voluptuous
curves and your flashing eyelashes.  I didn't really stand a chance.  But
then you suddenly disappeared, and I found myself in the front seat.  At
first, Martin was a little aloof, and I assumed that because he missed you
so much, he was deliberately distancing himself from me.  But last week,
things began to change.  Poor Martin started to look distracted and
vulnerable, which allowed me to get a little closer to him than I ever
could when you were in the way.  Now I know what must have happened - he
came here and saw you like this, right?  His angelic Alisha was destroyed
beyond repair!"

   As Gretchen babbled on, Alisha stared at her with growing dismay. 
Everything she had feared was coming to fruition.  Not only would Martin
never be attracted to her again, but Gretchen had every intention of moving
in on him!

   In desperation, Alisha muttered, "Martin loves me."

   "Well, he probably had feelings for you before," Gretchen conceded. 
"But I don't see how he could possibly do so now.  I mean, really, do you
have any idea what you look like?"

   An unbidden vision of her reflection in the glass flashed into Alisha's
mind, and she miserably lowered her eyes again.  How would she ever forget
that humbling image?

   Gretchen leaned back in the chair and cocked her head to one side, her
eyes roaming over Alisha's bald head.  "It's funny how a loss of hair can
totally alter a woman's appearance, isn't it?  I mean, you still have those
stunningly pretty eyes that you used on Martin so effectively, but because
your face is no longer framed by those long black tresses, you look so
different.  I know how much you prided yourself on your hair, as well.  I
used to watch how you flicked it behind you when you walked through the
office.  I suppose you are taking some salvation from the fact that you can
always grow it back again, but there's not much you can do about those
absurdly huge boobs, is there?  I mean, no way will they ever fit into a
bra again!"

   As much as she craved the second suppository, Alisha couldn't handle
Gretchen's taunting any longer.

   "B-Bitch..." Alisha mumbled.

   "Excuse me?"

   "You're...  you're a spiteful bitch!"

   "Now there's no need to be like that," Gretchen said, clearly amused by
Alisha's unexpectedly defiant stand.  "You should be more graceful in
defeat.  The better woman won, that's all."

   Alisha indignantly raised her chin and glared at her.  "Better woman? 
You just said that you didn't stand a chance with me around."

   "That's true, I didn't.  But where has that beautiful, intelligent,
Alisha Royce gone?  All I see is a groveling animal, whose only use is to
produce milk as an aphrodisiac for old men.  A distinguished attorney like
Martin Price would never associate with you now - you're spoiled goods,
Alisha.  Or would you prefer to be called Daisy now?"

   Alisha opened her mouth to respond, but words failed her.  Everything
Gretchen had just said, however hurtful was completely true.  How could
Martin, or any man for that matter, be interested in her like this?  She
had always been clinging onto the idea that this whole nightmare was
somehow reversible, but hearing Gretchen say it, she now fully accepted
that she had already passed the point of no return.  Would she even retain
a modicum of her former self-confidence at work after all she had been
through?  The legal profession was a tough enough business as it was, where
only the mentally and emotionally strong survived.  Alisha had certainly
possessed the mettle before, but would it be there after having been forced
to suffer all of incessant abuse?

   Gretchen slid back off the chair and said, "Stand up.  We're going into
the bedroom."

   A knot of dread turned inside Alisha's stomach.  Martin was in the
bedroom!  She stared up at Gretchen and shook her head, but in that moment
a spark of understanding flashed between them.  There was nothing more to
be said because they both instinctively knew that Alisha would obey
Gretchen's every command from here on in.  Resistance was futile.  Their
relationship in the office was now a thing of the past.  Alisha was the
black slave, naked and on her knees, looking up at the white girl who now
had all the power.

   To underline her dominance, Gretchen held up the precious suppository.
"If you want this, I'll be waiting for you in the bedroom."





   Chapter Thirty-One

   Perched on the edge of the bed, Gretchen listened to Martin showering in
the bathroom and waited confidently for Alisha to follow her.  It was a new
and rather intoxicating feeling to know that the woman whom she had once so
admired had no choice other than to do whatever she told her to.  The final
telling look that had passed between them in the kitchen had confirmed it -
no matter how hard she tried to fight it, Alisha had been ground into
submission by these simple rubes.

   It wasn't just about her addiction to the drug, either.  Day after day
of relentless persecution had gradually altered Alisha's psyche, and
although Gretchen was pretty sure that her former colleague wasn't afraid
of her directly, she represented something that most certainly did. 
Gretchen had no idea who was ultimately behind all of this, but with Mr. 
Van Hook being involved, they were dealing with a stratum of individuals
who controlled the most powerful institutions in society.

   But it was beyond Gretchen's personal remit to try and figure out what
the purpose of all this was - if indeed there even was one.  She was merely
a pawn in a much bigger game, and she was savvy enough to know that all she
had to do was play her part.  And with everything she wanted seemingly
falling into her lap, it would be a pleasure to do so!

   A shadow fell across the carpet and Gretchen looked up in wonder as
Alisha's astonishing breasts emerged through the doorway.  Defying gravity,
they trembled and bounced as the black girl walked unsteadily into the
room. After having spent several hours observing Alisha down on her
haunches, Gretchen was momentarily taken aback by Alisha's height.  She had
always been an imposing sight in her heels back at the office, but even in
her bare feet she was a tall girl - no wonder that short-assed Jacob
preferred to keep her down on the ground!

   Alisha glanced nervously at the bathroom door and then waited with her
head bowed.  Gretchen doubted that this was a show of deference, but it
made her feel good anyway.  Wanting to draw out the moment, she dragged her
eyes away from Alisha's mesmerizing breasts, and stared with interest at
the thick, rich bush of pubic hair between her legs.  Following the
contours of Alisha's muscular legs, she said, "I always thought you had
more feminine thighs under your pencil skirts at work.  You're a lot more
butch than I imagined.  Or perhaps you've developed those muscles while
you've been working here on the farm?"

   Without responding, Alisha kept her bald head bowed, staring down into
her own sizeable cleavage.  Taking her silence as a minor rebellion,
Gretchen said, "So would you like me to stick this other capsule up your
ass?  Your call.  If you don't ask, you don't get."

   A second or two passed, and then she heard Alisha mumble, "Yes."

   "Look at me when you speak to me," Gretchen said.  "Don't be rude."

   Slowly, Alisha raised her head, the resentment in her eyes now quite
evident.  It was interesting, Gretchen noted, how quickly Alisha's demeanor
was shifting - one moment, weak and frightened, the next, angry and defiant
- and she suspected that this was one of the various effects of the
mysterious drug that she now so craved.

   The sound of the running shower in the adjacent bathroom came to an
abrupt halt, and both girls looked at the door and then back at each other.
Martin would soon be joining them, and deciding to maximize Alisha's
disadvantage, Gretchen said, "Turn around and bend over the dresser with
your legs spread...  and up on tippy-toe!"

   The venom in Alisha's eyes now morphed into a round-eyed panic, and she
shook her head in horror.  "Please, I don't want him to see me...  down
there."

   "Really?" Gretchen sniggered.  "After all this, you think there's still
a chance that you can redeem yourself in Martin's eyes?  I don't think so.
Now, if you don't do as I say right now, you won't get the second capsule
at all - and I will also make sure that Jacob hears all about your
disobedience."

   A quiet whimper escaped Alisha's lips and with a final look of
desperation at the bathroom door, she shuffled around and assumed the
undignified position.  With her cheek and elbows on the dresser, and her
pendulous breasts dangling freely below, she raised herself up onto her
toes and thrust out her round ass until it was only a few inches from
Gretchen's face.  For the first time, Gretchen was aware of Alisha's musky
scent and it was surprisingly agreeable considering the primitive
conditions in which they had apparently been keeping her.

   Moving Alisha's left buttock to the side with her thumb, Gretchen
located her asshole with the tip of the capsule, and slowly nudged it
forward.  Alisha gave a little undignified grunt and braced her legs on the
floorboards as Gretchen stretched her sphincter a little further with the
thick pellet.  Leaving a good inch or so still exposed, Gretchen let go of
the suppository to see whether Alisha would be able to suck it in by
herself.  Apparently not.  She watched transfixed as the wrinkled aperture
tightened in vain around the blue-coated capsule, and then let her eyes
wander down over Alisha's hair-covered perineum to her damp sex, the outer
lips bloated and damp.

   Gretchen caught another subtle whiff of Alisha's animal essence and it
struck her then of how successful Jacob and his boys had been in
transforming this once-elegant city girl into a carnal beast.  There was
absolutely nothing sexy here, and yet Gretchen was quite overwhelmed by
Alisha's bestial aura.  She was an organism of brown, silky skin stretched
over well-toned muscle, beckoning soft orifices, and life-sustaining
udders.

   Hearing the latch on the bathroom door, Gretchen snapped out of her
reverie, gave the suppository a little push with the tip of her pinkie, and
then watch inquisitively as Alisha's anus drew it in.  The bathroom door
swung open just as Alisha's body gave a little spasm of gratitude, while
the tormented black girl turned her head away towards to window.

   Martin was naked except for a towel around his waist, and Gretchen
scanned his tightly muscled torso, his broad shoulders, and significantly,
the shape his long shaft that was so clearly defined underneath the towel's
white fabric.  Gretchen wasn't sure whether it was Alisha's aura, or just a
culmination of the sexually surreal events of the day, but she felt her
nipples stiffening under her shirt as she stood and went towards her boss.

   Martin, his eyes fixed on Alisha's bent over body, stammered, "Oh.  I-I
thought you were still in the kitchen..."

   Without hesitation, Gretchen placed her hand over Martin's rock-hard
erection, and with the other, untied the knot at his hip.  As the towel
dropped to the floor, Martin made no attempt to cover himself, and Gretchen
wrapped her fingers around his thick, warm, cock while he continued to
stare over her shoulder at Alisha.  Astonishingly, Gretchen realized that
even with all the odds stacked in her favor, she was even now going to have
to compete with Alisha for Martin's attention!

   So be it!

   Feeling the skin of his penis moving under her fingers, Gretchen said,
"You poor man, you've been through so much today.  Let me see if I can make
you feel better!"

   *

   He hadn't expected them to be in the bedroom, and seeing Alisha's naked
form bent over the dresser, Martin's first instinct was to retreat back
into the poky bathroom.  Too late, Gretchen was upon him before he had time
to react and as soon as she grabbed his dick he knew he was helpless.

   And yet, as attractive as she was, it wasn't Gretchen that was causing
his rampant member to swell up so hard - it was the mesmerizing sight of
Alisha's mammoth udders hanging beneath her.  His intense arousal was
confusing.  They were way too big to be beautifully shaped, but there was
something awesome about their brown-skinned luminosity, their vulgarly
elongated nipples, their sheer, mind-blowing size, that utterly captivated
him.

   He swallowed and licked his lips, the memory of the taste of her milky
issue coming back to him in a rush, and in his hot-headed confusion, it
occurred to him that the effects of the drugs she had been forced to take
might have been passed on through her milk that he had so hungrily
ingested. Could it be that he was already addicted to her?

   Whatever the cause, Martin realized that he was, possibly for the first
time in his life, in a situation over which he had no control.  He could
have argued that he was only protecting his career in allowing Van Hook to
manipulate him into coming here, but there was no excuse for going any
further with this steamy encounter.

   Despite his overwhelming feelings of guilt, he continued to stare at
Alisha with her absurdly bloated tits while she submissively bent over and
offered him her broad, black ass and her disgustingly hairy cunt.  God help
him if he didn't want to just mount her right then and there!  His animal
desire shamed him intensely but still he couldn't bring himself to turn
tail and get the hell out of there as he knew he should.  He would have to
face these young women again in the office eventually, and unless he got a
grip right now, they would all be breaking a cardinal rule of Bale, Thomas,
and Farringdon.

   But did any of that matter right now, he wondered, as Gretchen let go of
his cock and yanked her shirt over her head.  He dragged his eyes away from
Alisha and gazed at her skinny white torso, drum-tight belly, and her pert
little breasts punctuated with childishly small pink nipples.  She popped
the button on her jeans and in one swift movement pulled them down along
with her panties.  Martin couldn't stop himself from staring in awe at
Gretchen's shaved vulva, so tight and pale in comparison to Alisha's
pouting, damp jungle.

   He allowed Gretchen to literally lead him by his dick to the bed as his
eyes automatically returned to the sight of Alisha's voluptuous rear end.
This was so wrong, but resisting was useless.  He was intoxicated by the
pungent carnal scent of these two girls that he had come to know so well.
And now they were all naked together in a tiny bedroom somewhere in the
back of beyond.  This was most definitely not the way he had ever imagined
it might be with either of them, but he lay back helplessly on the bed as
Gretchen straddled him, still stroking his increasingly hardening cock, and
said, "Alisha, stand up and turn around - I want you to see this."





   Chapter Thirty-Two

   I don't have to turn around!  Alisha weakly reminded herself.  This
wasn't Jacob, or even Richard or Matthew talking to her, it was just
Gretchen, a guest, a visitor, a mere spectator.

   Just Gretchen.

   Gretchen, the somewhat awkward white girl who had always followed
Alisha's lead back at the office because she hadn't quite known what to do
to really catch Martin's eye.  Because she hadn't understood the unspoken
subtleties that Alisha and Martin so naturally and culturally shared - the
very same Gretchen who was now sharing the bed with handsome Martin!

   Despair merged with a swelling indignation as Alisha raised her head off
the dresser.  It was all so unfair!  She was supposed to be the winner! 
But these cruel and evil people had snatched her inevitable victory
ruthlessly away from her, and now she was going to have to witness Gretchen
consummating her interracial union with Martin.  It was a sight that Alisha
dreaded and yet paradoxically, she simply had to see it with her own eyes
to believe it.

   Slowly she turned, shamefully conscious of her heavy cow-boobs swinging
freely in front of her, and of her ugly denuded head, and her disgustingly
bushy armpits, and she willed herself to be strong.  Gretchen was kneeling
on Martin's thighs, with his engorged penis in her hand.  They were of
course both naked, Martin's darkness contrasting with Gretchen's almost
translucent skin.

   Martin however, wasn't gazing passionately up at his imminent lover. 
Instead, his head was turned in Alisha's direction, and for a moment she
felt a brief glimmer of hope that he would suddenly remember who he was,
and launch Gretchen unceremoniously off the bed before coming to Alisha's
rescue.  But that fleeting prospect was quashed as she followed his gaze,
because his unblinking eyes were solely fixed upon her mammoth breasts.  As
they jiggled, so his pupils followed, hypnotized by the sight of them, and
this surely confirmed that she was now nothing but a sex object to him in
the most literal sense.

   She would rather be objectified in the workplace than have to suffer the
greedy infantile look in his eyes as he ogled her long nipples.  He was
after her milk, and that was all!  He had got the taste, and he wanted
more! And he was now about to make love to his new white girlfriend, his
ardor fueled by the sight of his milk bitch standing obediently by the side
of his bed!

   Gretchen stroked Martin's thick, black rod with the familiarity of a
longtime paramour, and said, "What does she look like now, Martin?  Is she
still beautiful to you?"

   His eyes still glued to Alisha's distended teats, Martin remained
stupidly silent.  Gretchen edged forward, rubbing her vulva against
Martin's shaft.  They were practically fucking in front of her now, and
Martin was making no attempt to resist.  Standing pathetically to one side
with her hands behind her head, it suddenly struck Alisha that this moment
in time could never be reversed.  No matter what happened after this, even
if she won her freedom and returned to her old life, the memory of having
to watch her beautiful mentor copulating with her inferior rival would stay
with her forever.  How could she ever face them again?

   "Who do you want to fuck, Martin?" Gretchen asked as she ground her
pubis against his cock.  "Do you want me, or that fat-titted cow?"

   Still Martin stared at Alisha's breasts, but now his lips parted and he
emitted a low sigh of pleasure as Gretchen's hairless cunt slithered along
his length.  Gretchen leaned forward and placed her hands on either side of
Martin's head.  "You know Jacob's boys have been fucking her, don't you? 
They must have been.  Two horny white boys with their own black slave to
play with?  I bet she's been fucking and sucking them every which way, like
a good little nigger bitch!"

   Even as the next wave of the stupefying narcotic began to sweep over
her, Alisha was struck by Gretchen's racist language.  It went without
saying that she couldn't speak like that in the office, but had she
forgotten that the naked man she was sitting on - her boss, no less!  - was
an African American too?  For the first time, Martin turned to look up at
Gretchen, but before he could say a word, the blonde intern lowered her
head and forced her pink tongue into his mouth.

   You manipulative whore!  Alisha seethed as the lewd sight of Gretchen
sliding her body up and down over Martin begun to swim before her eyes. 
He's confused and weak, and you're taking full advantage of that!

   With a rude sucking sound, Gretchen pulled her lips away and gasped,
"She's black trash, Martin, you know that don't you?  Alisha is the white
man's whore now.  Let me be yours!"

   Alisha swayed back unsteadily on her feet, knocking her ass against the
dresser as the erotic scene before her shifted in and out of focus.  She
blinked twice, trying to clear her vision, and managed to catch a last look
at Martin's cockhead tapping against Gretchen's cunt.  Gretchen reached
down and parted her lips with her fingers, allowing Martin's bulbous black
glans to snuggle inside, and then she groaned out loud as she slowly
lowered herself onto his long shaft.

   It's too late!  Alisha though woozily.  He's inside her now.  Whatever
happens in the future, she will always have been the first!

   She closed her eyes, no longer wanting to witness the truth, and allowed
herself to slither onto the floor.  In a semi-daze, Alisha tried to ignore
the sound of the creaking bedsprings and Gretchen's whimpering sighs. 
After a year of vying with each other, this was the end result.  Gretchen
had her man, even though she had done nothing to earn him, and for the
first time, Alisha caught herself wondering if she even wanted to leave the
farm after all - suddenly, the outside world seemed like a very cold and
unfriendly place!

   *

   A sharp rapping at the door woke Gretchen with a start.  She sat bolt
upright, initially confused by her surroundings, surprised by her
nakedness, then seeing Martin's nude black body beside her, she remembered.

   My God, we did it!  Me and Martin!  I can't believe it just happened
like that!

   The knocking resumed, more insistent this time, and she knew it had to
be that creepy farmer, Jacob again.  She quickly pulled on her jeans and
shirt as Martin began to stir.  She slid off the bed and saw Alisha slumped
against the dresser, her head on her chin, her hands still fastened behind
her neck, and her fat boobs covering her torso and thighs.

   Martin rolled over and blinked, and looking down at himself, he place
his hands over his groin.  "Wh-what is it?"

   "I think it's Jacob," Gretchen said.

   While Martin fumbled for his clothes, Gretchen answered the door.  It
was indeed the red-faced little farmer, grumpy as ever, with Matthew, the
younger son, behind him.  Jacob's lecherous eyes lingered on the points of
Gretchen's nipples through her shirt, before he said, "Where's Price?"

   "Sleeping," Gretchen said.

   "With the black cow?" Jacob asked with a contemptuous grin.

   "No, he was with..." Gretchen caught herself, and continued, "What do
you want?"

   "New orders for Price," Jacob said.  "Not you.  Go get him."

   Resisting the urge to slap the arrogant pig, Gretchen turned to fetch
Martin, but he was already behind her, his eyes bleary, and his clothes
disheveled.

   "Couldn't resist it, eh?" Jacob chuckled.

   "I...  what do you mean?" Martin stammered, glancing nervously at
Gretchen.

   "Never mind," Jacob sneered.  "Matthew, give him the bag."

   Matthew passed a large canvas bag to Martin, his eyes roaming over
Gretchen's braless chest as he reached forward, and igniting in her that
initial spark of trepidation from the previous day.  How easy it would be
for these crazy rustics to hold her captive as they had done with Alisha!
Just one word from Van Hook and she could be spirited away from the world,
and transformed into whatever disfigured creature they so desired!  She
shuddered at the thought and edged a little closer to Martin.

   "You are to call your boss," Jacob said.  "He has some new instructions
for you.  When you leave the farm today, you'll be taking Black Beauty with
you."

   Although Gretchen hadn't heard them use this name before, it was obvious
who they were talking about.  But what did it mean?  Was Alisha free to go?
Would she be returning to work?  In her current condition, Gretchen thought
that highly unlikely, but she needed to find out quickly.  She had yet to
consolidate her position with Martin, and she couldn't afford a scenario
where, awash with guilt, he were to spend all of his time and energy in
helping Alisha reestablish her career path.  Before Martin could respond,
Gretchen asked, "Alisha's going home?"

   Jacob shot her a look of disdain and went on, "She'll be under your care
from now on, Mr.  Price.  As far as I am concerned, my work is done.  Your
boss will decide what happens next."

   Hearing these words, Gretchen immediately felt a little more at ease. 
It didn't sound like Alisha was going to be set free at all.  On the
contrary, it seemed that her subjugation was set to continue back in the
city under Martin's direct supervision - and Gretchen was damned if she
wasn't going to be a part of that!

   "Black Beauty's traveling clothes, suppositories, and some other items
are in the bag," Jacob said.  "Mr.  Van Hook will explain everything else.
Now, I've got things to do, and I'm sure you'll be keen to get back to the
city, so I'll leave you to it."

   And without even so much as a goodbye, Jacob turned on his heel and
started down the path, but Matthew lingered a moment and then said to
Gretchen, "Take care of her for me.  I'm going to miss her."

   To her amazement, the stupid rube had tears in his eyes!  Gretchen had
to hand it to Alisha - she certainly had her way with the men!  She watched
Matthew hurry after his father, and then pushed the door shut with her
foot. Martin leaned against the wall and blew out along breath.

   "Now what?" Gretchen asked.

   Martin looked at her uneasily, "I'm going to have to make that call."





   Chapter Thirty-Three

   "Yes, Mr.Van Hook, I do understand...  yes, I will, sir."

   Martin stared at the hang-up icon blinking on his phone screen for a
moment and then gazed numbly out across the pastures.  On the one hand, he
couldn't wait to leave this depraved place, but on the other, he hadn't
been at all prepared for what that sick bastard had prepared for them next.
The only saving grace was that Gretchen would be alongside to help him -
provided she didn't decide that this was all getting way out of hand and
simply quit the company.  However, judging from her remarkable change of
attitude since yesterday, he somehow doubted that.

   He pocketed his cell phone and symbolically wiped his hands together. 
He always felt dirty after speaking with David Van Hook these days.  What
possible motivation could that man have for wanting to destroy a young
woman's life like this?  Some kind of twisted revenge?  Had Alisha once
spurned his advances?  That was all Martin could think of.  Surely he
wasn't doing this to her for mere sport?

   Yes, sir.  I understand, sir.  Of course, sir.  Three bags fucking full,
sir!

   Martin could hear his own ingratiating voice still echoing in his head.
He felt thoroughly ashamed of himself.  He should be helping Alisha to
escape from this horror, not abetting this depraved gang of evil perverts.
But that was the hard truth he had to face, wasn't it?  As much as he had
loved, and indeed lusted after Alisha, when it came to the crunch, his
career meant more to him.  He was far from happy with this realization, but
there it was.

   There was another, troubling aspect to all this - he simply could no
longer deny the intense sexual arousal he was deriving as a result of this
abominable enterprise.  Certainly, drinking Alisha's breast milk had
affected him deeply, and the urge to suck on those inviting teats seemed to
lurk constantly in the back of his mind now.  And just looking at the poor
girl's bloated mammaries was enough to send an immediate rush of blood to
his dick!  But it wasn't just about Alisha - he still couldn't believe that
he and Gretchen had had unprotected sex and that she had allowed him to
come inside her!  Had she taken precautions?  What if she got pregnant? 
What the hell was wrong with him?  He was breaking every rule in the book!

   Martin rubbed his eyes and with a deep sigh, went back into the cottage
to tell Gretchen what Van Hook expected of her now.

   *

   "Oh, my, look at this!" Gretchen giggled.  "Put this on and I bet we'd
look just like sisters!"

   Alisha stared forlornly at the blonde wig that Gretchen was raising up
for her to see.  Quite apart from the fact that with their contrasting skin
color, and radically mismatched body shapes, there couldn't have been two
physically dissimilar women on the planet, the Shirley Temple wig was
totally different in shade and texture to Gretchen's natural, soft tresses.
It was so obviously false that it had clearly been purchased from a fancy
dress store, and was never intended to look real.

   But that was the whole point, wasn't it?  To make Alisha look as
ridiculous as possible.  An ebony-skinned girl with unfeasibly large
breasts, and a garish, curly blonde hairstyle?  Who wouldn't stop to look?
And that question led to Alisha's latest cause for worry.  She had heard
Master Jacob talking to them in the doorway, and had picked up the gist
that she would be leaving the farm.  Her initial elation at having
apparently made it through this ordeal had been tempered when Gretchen had
returned to the bedroom lugging the big canvas bag.

   As Gretchen had started investigating the contents of the bag and
placing them one by one on the bed, Alisha's heart had begun to sink.  She
tried to recollect what she had been wearing the day she had been brought
to this terrible place, and incredibly, that humiliating first day when she
had been stripped in the open air in front of everyone had come flooding
back to her with full clarity.  Piece by piece she recalled, she had
removed her sweater, shoes and socks, and then of course her underwear, and
she had been kept effectively naked ever since!  How long ago that seemed!

   But there were none of her personal clothes amongst the items that
Gretchen was producing now, and even though there was no way Alisha would
ever be able to fit into her old bra, the fact that she was being provided
with new personal items suggested quite clearly that she was not going to
be returning to her old existence.

   Laying the absurd wig to one side, Gretchen delved into the bag again.
She had already uncovered a couple of ugly frocks which from the look of
them, would be more than sufficient in size to cover Alisha's gigantic
breasts.  A pair of sandals and three pairs of large frumpy knickers
followed.  There was also a plastic bag filled with the familiar blue
suppositories with which Alisha had developed such a deep love-hate
relationship.

   Now Gretchen chuckled again.  "Oh, look.  They've even remembered to
pack your favorite toy!"

   Alisha needed no introduction to the long, black phallus that Gretchen
was now waving in front of her.  She had been forced to ride the disgusting
thing on many occasions, the most recent of course being this morning in
the milking shed!  And in spite of Gretchen's cruel taunt - not to mention
Alisha's supercharged body having its own ideas - she despised the sex toy
intensely, not least because of its color, which had presumably been chosen
to mock her own skin pigmentation.

   A big, black cock, for the nigger slave!

   Alisha remained quietly on the floor while Gretchen enjoyed herself
examining the bizarre contents of the bag.  Cautiously, she straightened
her legs and wiggled her toes.  Gretchen didn't seem to notice.  At some
point over the past few hours, Alisha had come to subconsciously accept
that she was under now under Gretchen's control, but if in fact she was
about to leave the farm, then didn't that mean she had only Darius Nash to
answer to once again?

   Deductive thinking, once her strong point, didn't come as easy these
days, but she still recalled the terms of Nash's blackmail agreement, and
specifically regarding this interlude on the farm.  If she was correct in
her reasoning, then with the exception of the weekends at Nash's
brownstone, she would soon have her freedom back again.  Her stomach began
to flutter as she processed this possibility, but the feeling was more of
anxiety than excitement - the concept of being in control of her own
destiny suddenly seeming rather daunting.  With her body and mind so badly
knocked out of shape, how in the hell was she supposed to prepare herself
for life back in the city?

   To her growing dismay, it suddenly occurred to Alisha that she may no
longer be capable of facing the future by herself - or at least for the
time being.  As much as it galled her to admit it, the idea of having
Gretchen and Martin by her side suddenly felt rather more appealing than
being left to her own devices.  What a heartbreaking comedown from the
independently-minded free spirit she used to be!

   As she wrestled with this troubling realization, the bedroom door swung
open and Martin appeared in the doorway.  Alisha's eyes were involuntarily
drawn to his crotch, and although not as aroused as before, the shape of
his substantial member was still visible under his pants.  Forcing herself
to look up at his face, Alisha saw that he was wearing his now-familiar
troubled frown.

   "So here's the thing," he said, looking at Gretchen.  "Alisha is to
return to work, but she won't be living at her own apartment anymore -
she'll be staying with you."

   Gretchen laid down a rather complicated leather gag she had been
studying, and said, "With me?"

   "That's correct," Martin said.  "Mr.  Van Hook says that from now on,
you are to be Alisha's guardian."

   Unlike Alisha, Gretchen didn't appear particularly stunned by this turn
of events, and merely asked, "And what exactly will this entail?"

   "Well, everything, I guess," Martin said, and then turning to Alisha,
added, "Mr.  Van Hook asked me to remind you that the arrangement you had
with Darius Nash is still in effect."

   Alisha had almost forgotten about how she had originally been caught up
in this nightmare - the threat of being exposed as a drug user (one stupid
mistake!) which would have most certainly ended her hard-earned position at
Bale, Thomas, and Farringdon.  She had almost compartmentalized that off,
as if it were a separate issue to the one she had been facing here on the
farm, and yet it remained the core reason for her being here.  For the
first time, fragments of that one-sided conversation in Nash's living room
now came drifting back to her.  The sick pervert had informed her that she
was to be `reconstructed' and `altered' and had mentioned something about
an `experiment' in which she would be reduced to a
`less-than-human-status'. But it was the final part of his `sales pitch'
that now reverberated in her mind: "...will gradually rebuild you in the
new mold that we have decided for you."

   Rather than being the end of her ordeal, was this now the beginning of
the `rebuilding' stage?  Now that Alisha was psychologically crippled as
well as physically modified possibly beyond repair, it seemed that
Gretchen, of all people, had been charged with the task of reintroducing
her to her old environment - but in what form?  With this much unexpected
power to wield, there was little to no chance that Gretchen would help
Alisha return to her former status!  The thought of playing a poor second
fiddle to her former rival in front of the entire office caused Alisha to
fleetingly consider asking if she could stay behind at the farm!

   But as these considerations churned around in her mind, Alisha already
knew that she would be going with Gretchen.  Yes, technically she had a
choice, but something irreversible had been burned into her psyche now, and
she was no longer the same Alisha Royce that had arrived here.  She hated
Gretchen with a vengeance already, and she was sorely disappointed at
Martin's newly-revealed weakness, but deep down she knew that she needed
them both in the short-term at least.  Perhaps in a few weeks, when she was
a little mentally stronger, she would begin to plot her escape plan, but
for now she would just go along with whatever they wanted her to do - it
just seemed easier that way.

   "I'm okay with that," Gretchen nodded.  "You can be my little pet,
Alisha!  We'll have lots of fun together, won't we?"

   "Alisha?" Martin said, forcing himself to meet her eyes.  "Mr.  Van Hook
wants to know if you are still prepared to honor your part of the
agreement."

   Honor?  Agreement?

   Legal-sounding terms that seemed so out of place right now!  Trying to
ignore the ramifications of Gretchen's last sentence, Alisha nodded
wordlessly.

   "Okay then," Martin said, sounding a little relieved.  "That's settled
then.  Now we need to tie up another loose end.  Your mother lives alone I
understand, Alisha?"

   Instantly snapped out of her mental disorientation, Alisha said, "My
mother?"

   "Yes," Martin said.  "According to your HR records, she is divorced and
your sister has moved to California, am I right?"

   "Y-yes, but why do you...?"

   "Don't worry, nothing bad is going to happen to your mother," Martin
said hurriedly.  "On the contrary, she has already been generously
compensated as a result of your...  situation."

   Compensated?

   "What have you told her?" Alisha said, her stomach knotting again.

   Martin cleared his throat.  "Before your departure for the farm, you
told her you would be on an intensive study retreat in preparation for your
exams, is that correct?"

   Alisha nodded again.  It was the only story she could come up with which
would explain why she couldn't be reached.

   Martin continued, "The company has been in touch with her again - and
told her the real reason for your absence."

   Alisha's eyes widened.  "Sh-she knows about this?"

   "Oh no, absolutely not!" Martin said.  "But she does know that you are a
drug addict and that you have actually been in rehab for the past
fortnight. The company has sent her a substantial check which they have
explained is a payment from your medical insurance.  They have explained to
her that you are in good hands and that you specifically requested to be
left alone during this difficult time of healing."

   Martin sounded as though he was quoting from a staff memo, but Alisha
had no reason to think that he wasn't telling the whole truth here.  Her
eyes welling up, she said, "My mom thinks I'm a drug addict?"

   From the bed, Gretchen waved the bag of suppositories, and said, "Well
she's not wrong, is she?"

   "B-but I'm not...  I wasn't before..." Alisha sobbed.

   "The point is," Martin interjected, "she has asked to speak to you on
the phone.  So far, Mr.  Van Hook has managed to keep this whole thing
sounding plausible, but it's time your mother heard your voice."

   Sniffing back tears, Alisha said, "I can't talk to her now!"

   "I'm afraid you must," Martin said softly.

   Through her tears, Alisha became aware of a hand resting upon her
shoulder, and she looked up to see that Gretchen was crouching beside her
with a big fat suppository in her other hand.

   "Come over to the bed," she smiled, "and I'll stick a couple of these up
your ass - then you can phone your mom!"





   Chapter Thirty-Four

   They were ready to leave the farm.  Alisha had walked - actually walked
like a human being - with Gretchen along the footpath to the farmhouse
where Martin was parked.  Not that Alisha had brought much with her, but
her original clothes had been packed in a shopping bag which she now placed
in the trunk of Martin's Escalade.  Even if she had been allowed to wear
them, there was no way that Alisha's grossly oversized breasts would have
remotely fitted underneath her sweater!

   But of course she hadn't been given a choice in the matter anyway, and
it was Gretchen who had selected her clothes from the canvas bag, clearly
relishing her new position as Alisha's official baby-sitter.  Alisha
cringed inwardly at the way she had meekly allowed Gretchen to position her
ass-up on the bed, and then insert the two capsules into her asshole.  To
her added embarrassment, Martin hadn't left the room this time, but had
watched on curiously as Alisha's fix was being administered in such a
vulgar fashion.

   Still terrified at the prospect of having to speak to her mother, Alisha
had buried her tear-streaked face in the pillows with her breasts squished
out beside her, as the soothing effects of the narcotic compound had
quickly taken effect.  While she was prone, Alisha had heard the clink of
metal and then for the first time in what felt like years, her wrists were
freed of their cuffs.  With a little gentle encouragement from Gretchen,
Alisha had slowly raised herself up onto her knees, and then climbed off
the bed.

   Then Gretchen had dressed her, first selecting a pair of frumpy black
knickers that, for some unimaginable reason had a coarse strip of fibrous
material sewn inside the gusset that had immediately started irritating
Alisha's swollen labia.

   Then, still under Martin's inquisitive gaze, Gretchen had worked a brown
burlap frock down over Alisha's head, no more than a sack really, but large
enough to drape over her prominent bust and hang down to her knees. 
Finally, she slipped a pair of leather thongs onto her feet and her
unflattering attire had been basically complete - but not quite.

   Gretchen had delighted in taking her time to adjust the hateful Shirley
Temple wig until she had it just so.  Gretchen had even made Alisha pose
for some pictures, laughing happily as she had shown her the images on her
smartphone - a dark-skinned face framed by cute, blonde curls, wearing a
sackcloth dress over a gargantuan bust!  Even in her stressed-out,
drug-clouded state of mind, it was not lost on Alisha that she had been
deliberately turned into this caricature, and that these ludicrous props
had quite obviously been selected and prepared by somebody with a little
more imagination than the idiot rubes dwelling on this farm.

   Noticing the strange, pitying look in Martin's eyes, Alisha wasn't sure
if wouldn't have been better to have remained naked - no more secrets to
hide from him there anyway.  But that was not her decision to make. 
Gretchen was in control now, her authority apparently sanctioned by one of
the most powerful partners at Bale, Thomas, and Farringdon, and if Alisha
still harbored hopes of salvaging her career, she would have no choice but
to accept it - for now.

   *

   Martin's emotions had been on such a rollercoaster ride for the past
twenty-four hours that he had been unprepared for how painful he had found
it to call Alisha's mother.  He had met her once at an office function, a
decent, if uneducated woman, but her tired, almost defeated demeanor had
made him wonder where Alisha had inherited her inner strength from - the
absent father, maybe?

   Despite Mrs.  Royce's obvious concerns about her daughter's welfare, Mr.
Van Hook had calculated correctly in sending her an obscenely large check
under the guise of an insurance payout.  No matter how difficult or
complicated the circumstances, money always had a way of sugar-coating the
pill.  By emphasizing that the funds were only available due to Alisha's
own prudence and forethought - a lie of course, because although Alisha was
indeed contributing to a pension scheme, there was no way she could have
accrued such a generous payout at this early stage of her career - it was
hoped that Mrs.  Royce's shock and disappointment at her daughter's
failings might be somewhat assuaged.  Or on a more practical level, Martin
understood, the woman was really being paid to stay away and not poke her
nose aroundduring Alisha's `treatment'.

   If Martin had found it difficult to lie to Alisha's mother, his
discomfiture had paled into insignificance when he had handed the phone to
Alisha.  Gretchen had administered another two capsules anally, a sight
that Martin had found revolting and yet oddly enthralling.  The sight of
these two young women in such close and intimate proximity, had the effect
of triggering yet another semi-erection, but for reasons that he couldn't
explain, he hadn't this time felt compelled to leave the room.

   After allowing herself to be dressed by Gretchen, and then fitted with
the blonde, curly wig, Alisha had looked totally unreal and cartoonish,
especially with the front of her burlap frock thrusting out like a pair of
gigantic elongated balloons.  Was Van Hook really expecting her to return
to work like this?  Martin was just grateful that it would be down to
Gretchen to oversee the details of Alisha's return to the office, and not
himself.

   Alisha's exchange with her mother had been brief, with the majority of
the dialogue coming from the other end.  To her credit, even though tears
of shame had soaked her dark cheeks, Alisha had managed to keep her voice
reasonably level as she had assured her mother that she was in good hands
and was on the road to repair.  Apologizing for letting the family down had
been rather more harrowing for her of course - particularly as it now
transpired that there was an element of truth to her guilt.  Even if Martin
had had prior knowledge of Alisha's single indiscretion, he would have let
it pass with a quiet word of advice, nothing more.  It would have been
seriously naïve of him to think that she was the only member of staff to
have partaken in the occasional illegal stimulant outside of office hours.
But of course, poor Alisha was being portrayed as a hopeless user whose
whole future hung in the balance, and this to the person whom she wanted to
impress the most - her mother!  How that must have hurt!

   While Martin had almost cringed on Alisha's behalf, Gretchen, he
noticed, had sat right beside Alisha, holding her hand encouragingly, but
all the time maintaining a little smile on her soft lips as her blue eyes
had sparkled with satisfaction.  What a complex and devious character that
one was turning out to be.  And not only was she now deeply entwined in
their little ménage et trois, but after their passionate rutting session
earlier, she now had something on him too!

   Confession time over, they had made their way to Martin's Escalade,
packed their belongings, and then Alisha had been forced to endure one
final indignity - a kiss goodbye for both Matthew and Richard who had
turned up to see her off.  Martin could only imagine how galling that must
have felt for the poor girl given the anguish these two deviant young white
men had inflicted on her this past fortnight.

   Anxious now to get the hell off this farm, Martin fired up the engine
with Gretchen in the passenger seat beside him, and their odd-looking
charge sitting miserably in the back seat.  He took a final glance in the
rearview at the farmhouse and the paddock where he had first witnessed
Alisha's outrageous show pony routine, and with a deep sense of foreboding
about what lay ahead, he turned out of the main gate.

   All three occupants of that SUV were now very changed people from when
they arrived at that strange and heinous farm.  And the more he thought
about it, the more Martin was convinced that David Van Hook and whoever
else might be manipulating them, intended to escalate their depraved little
alliance when they returned to work in the city - and for a long time to
come.


   THE END - AND THE BEGINNING.