Gorean Femdom: Fresh Meat
A Fictional Story by MHMacdonald.
On the small side of small, the foreskin had been removed; the naked head inked rouge and pierced with a gold ring with an eye-opening low gauge. Seeing is believing, and if the kajirus’ diminutive cock size didn’t express that this was not a cock utilized for sex, the excessively sized gold ring that pierced it left no doubts. Despite the full public display of his undeniably male parts, few would call him a man.
The kajirus had heard Whip Mistress Lara chuckle with amusement but had resisted looking up from where he had been waiting in place, exactly where he had been told to, over an ahn before his morning feed. In the training sand, kneeling next to the small, raised platform, he had waited alone, wondering if he was being tested, observed for obedience. But, well attuned to the ways of the Whip Mistresses, he was too long and too wily a kajirus to be caught out so easily. He had learned long ago that the Whip Mistresses were merciless with their kicks to the balls, use of their leather crops, or worse, the sparking slave goad, and thus to avoid inviting them at all costs. Only risks with great rewards like the discarded stone of a plum, still with the sweet meat of the fruit on it, or the chance to catch a glimpse of a blessed kajira, were worth taking.
Instead, he ensured that all Whip Mistress Lara saw was that his head was bent and that he stared down passively with no inclination to explore his surroundings. Curiosity was unbecoming of a kajirus and kajira alike, in that at least things were the same. His tummy rumbled loudly, despite himself and any urge he might have to silence it, rather than drawing attraction to himself. It kept rumbling as she approached him, but head down, he sucked in his belly, hoping it would silence the noises coming from within. Only yesterday, Whip Mistress Felicity had observed, “Piss-flaps, I think you’re getting a little fat.” The remark had been followed by a painful pinch to his bare derriere. “Think, we’ll cut down on your pellets, piss-flaps. More toil instead. Keep you nice and lean, piss-flaps. I will inspect your tummy after the Spring Solstice.”
Was skipping his feed today, already Whip Mistress Felicity putting her promise in action. He knew not. Curiosity was unbecoming of a kajirus. It was a common Gorean saying; nevertheless, it irked him no end. Whip Mistresses did not inform their male charges of their plans; keeping them in ignorance was useful for their control and management of the charges. Deliberately keeping them uninformed increased their dependence and helplessness. They never knew whence they may be herded, or what they may be forced to do. Leave them alone, free persons would say, with their ignorance and their fears. It is enough for the Master or Mistress to know what is to be done with them. In time the livestock will learn. That will be soon enough. Their business was to serve, abjectly and totally simply.
Whip Mistress Lara, a formidable woman, stood now in front of him, perhaps some five feet ten inches in height and one hundred and forty pounds in weight. She was dark-haired and dark-eyed. She was muscular and strong; her figure was striking to almost any man, not just a sex starved Cosian one, taken prisoner after a battle with Ar, enslaved and sold before he’d lost his virginity. She wore a leather halter and black leather tights. Her midriff was strikingly white, and her arms and legs. A leather band held her hair back. She wore a tightly buckled, studded belt and heavy sandals, almost like boots, with thongs. From her belt there hung a ring of keys and a coiled chain, with a snap. On her belt, toward the back, on her right side, in a snap strap, hung a pair of steel manacles. She scared him no end.
“Look up piss-flaps,” Whip Mistress Lara instructed. “Not at me, straight ahead, at my fresh meat.”
He saw that behind her, leashed together and kneeling in a line, were six shivering, wet kajiru, their heads recently roughly shorn to the scalp, seemingly brought straight from the murky, stinging-cold waters of the livestock dip that ensured lice had little chance to survive in the slave pens. Each was nude, branded, collared and infibulated. Each looked thoroughly miserable and scared. He knew the feeling well.
Standing feet wide apart, Whip Mistress Lara turned to run her eye down the line of her fresh meat.
“All-fours,” she barked at them.
The trembling kajiru moved as one, falling forward to a common position of mobility in the slave pens, keen to obey the terrifying Whip Mistress.
“You are now all in the modality of the he-quadruped, livestock,” said Whip Mistress Lara. “You know what that is and what it means; you were all warned about it at your branding and infibulation, when you were processed from men to livestock. Once-men is how you will be viewed and thought of, owned and branded beasts of burden. You six clearly did not pay heed.”
One kajirus could not help but emit a moan.
“Too late now,” Whip Mistress Lara spoke without sympathy. “Well you might moan, but you each in some way or other have made your bed, and now you will get to lie in it, bedding of straw, together, keeping each other warm whether you like it or not.”
Behind, listening, foofoo realized why now he might have been assigned to the training sands.
“Can you understand me, my little he-quadrupeds?” asked Whip Mistress Lara. “Whimper once for ‘Yes,’ whimper twice for ‘No.'”
The once-men all whimpered once.
“Good,” said Whip Mistress Lara. “What bright little he-quadrupeds you are. That bodes well for you. Have any of you ever seen a slave serve as a he-quadruped before? Or perhaps a she-quadruped?”
The once-men whimpered twice.
“But you understand something of what is involved, do you not?” asked Whip Mistress Lara.
One whimper.
“Well, there is at least that. Now, for six months,” explained Whip Mistress Lara, “or more, if I choose, you will be worked as speechless livestock. The modality of the he-quadruped is a strict punishment, each of you has earned in some way I care not, as deemed by the Whip Mistress whose charge you were in most recently.”
After a pause, she probed, “Understood?”
The once-men all whimpered once.
“In this discipline, you are forbidden human speech. You have forgone the right to human posture; instead, your locomotion, unless commanded to roll, or put under similar commands, suitable for animals, will be on all fours. Any deviation from this, and you will be dealt with simply and effectively. You will be taken back to those of the metalworkers who marked your thighs with a brand and pierced your useless cocks, and you will be hamstrung and gelded. There is no going back from that; the cuts will be across both hamstrings, both balls, and your modality of the he-quadruped made permanent.” Lara spoke with authority, walking along the line of her charges. “There will be no warning past this moment. Do not stand, do not talk, do not use your hands for other than crawling, understood?”
The shivering once-men all whimpered once.
“You will be pleased to know, your feed in the troughs will remain the same yummy pellets you are used to.” Whip Mistress Lara ended with a chuckle as she went to stand to the side of piss-flaps. “Henceforth, you will be kept as working livestock, in place of your hands and cleaning rags, both rights to which you have forfeited; you will use your mouth, tongue, and teeth to manipulate objects and clean things. If you are slow to learn, of course, you will be punished, as would be any other good-for-nothing livestock. Those that are punished will find their duration as a he-quadruped much extended. I am talking years, like piss-flaps here.”
“Do you understand me, boys?”
“Whmpr,” murmured the once-men.
“Louder,” Whip Mistress said, “All of you!”
“Whmpr!”
“You are still the legal property of Lady Fiona of Ar. But now, you feature as a value, a small one it must be said, on a ledger somewhere in her accounts alongside her bosk, sleen and other animals, that is it, nothing less, nothing more.” Lara continued, not pulling any punches or sugarcoating anything regarding their new reality. “For that privilege, of wearing the collar and brand of such a Free Woman, consuming the feed she provides and taking up space in the accommodation she permits; you can and will, in return for such generosity, give your blood, sweat and most probably tears through your menial labors. It is my work here, along with the other Whip Mistresses, to ensure you do this work and do it well. To meet the productivity quotas set. Have I made myself clear, he-quadrupeds?”
“Whmpr!” the once-men chorused.
“Over the next six months, you will work, eat, drink, sleep, dream, drip, cum and excrete upon my command, or that of whichever Whip Mistress you find yourself toiling for,” Lara said. “Correction: in the six months, it will be highly unlikely that any of you will get to cum, but you never know; you might embrace your inner he-quadruped and surprise me. If any of you retain any male pride or thoughts that you are a man, I will remove it from you. Any lingering male pride will get in the way of your being a good he-quadruped, good working livestock. Do any of you retain any male pride or courage, Cosian fresh meat?”
“Whmpr! Whmpr!”
“Ha, we will see!” Lara cackled. “Now, I bet you are all keen to know what you’re going to be busy doing as he-quadrupeds for the next six months of your lives. Am I right, boys?”
“Whmpr.”
“Louder, and shriller, fresh meat!” Whip Mistress Lara commanded, “He-quadrupeds squeak and squeal; it helps as a reminder. You are no longer men. Now answer me again, all of you!”
“WHMPR!”
“Better, I expect enthusiasm, boys.” Lara grinned, her amusement clear. “I have to warn you; unenthusiastic he-quadrupeds don’t get very many pellets in my book. Are you enthusiastic about the next six months, boys?”
“WHMPR!” the once-men chimed loudly and shrilly.
“I hope so; things will go easier for you if you embrace your inner urt or inner bosk in approaching what is going to be required of you. Remember always this is a punishment, you are being disciplined, it is not easy or the most effective use of your labor.” Lara said not unkindly. “However, I will make you each as productive as can be as he-quadrupeds. Your labors will be of a more limited range, attuned to the limitations you have been placed under. You will be worked hard, from before dawn to beyond dusk, laboring menially as animals kept for that purpose. Cleaning the latrines, cleaning dirty boots, cleaning corridors and verandas, clearing debris from the yard, fetching wood for fires. You will need to embrace dirt and not be shy of it, I assure you.”
Pausing to let her pearls of wisdom sink in, Lara spoke again, explaining, “It is dirty, yucky menial work, but to earn your feed, you will do it, and you will do it well. To encourage you, the Whip Mistresses who specialize in supervising he-quadrupeds and I will channel your base needs, hunger, and male urges to drive your productivity. Of course, our crops and slave goads will help encourage you. Now, as to how you will perform your new duties, I have brought along a fellow he-quadruped to demonstrate how you will be expected to carry out your duties.”
“Piss-flaps,” Whip Mistress Lara addressed him. Suddenly wary, having followed the introductory speech on what life in the modality of the he-quadruped meant, recalling his own introduction some few years ago, his previous inclination toward his surroundings shifted to a state of high alert.
“Up on the platform, piss-flaps, up, up!” Whip Mistress Lara said, gesturing, harrying him along.
Obeying swiftly, foofoo crawled from the training sand up onto the low platform.
“Gather rounds, boys; come closer. You will want to see this.” Lara smiled. “The application of crops and slave goads makes corrections in posture. Get them right, and you will avoid such things.”
The six male slaves all crawled forward until Whip Mistress Lara indicated they stop and instructed, “Nadu.”
Satisfied with their obedience, Whip Mistress Lara turned to the platform and instructed, “Assume your working position, piss-flaps.”
Unused to an audience and such scrutiny, the kajirus nevertheless obeyed immediately, forming the position in which he conducted his daily labors.
“Fresh meat you will see, he-quadrupeds don’t just work on their hands and knees, oh no, they suffer while they work, both from the aches and cramps of the posture but also from the humiliation of being observed working so.” Whip Mistress Lara explained. “Piss-flaps here has spent several years like this; once upon a time, he was a very greedy he-quadruped about to be lashed, using the snake, a single-bladed whip. You will all do well to avoid boys. He compounded his greediness by having the audacity of meeting the eye of Lady Fiona, who happened to be taking a tour of her slave pens and had paused to observe his atonement.
Upon inquiring about his offense, Lady Fiona asked him why he had been so greedy, and that was when he erred and dared to look upon the veiled face of his owner without permission. Needless to say, his lashing was doubled from three to six of the snake whip, and as she observed his beating, the much-peeved Lady Fiona decided to take a special interest in the kajirus. Amongst other things she decided upon, to pay back for the extra feed costs he’d been caught gobbling up, it has pleased the Lady Fiona to place him in the modality of a he-quadruped indefinitely. Hasn’t she piss-flaps?”
“Whmpr!” answered without delay, and so shrilly, one would be forgiven for thinking him a gelding.
“What followed for him was a lesson for all of his ilk, those that wear the collar and brand of Lady Fiona.” Whip Mistress Lara explained. “Strict discipline is essential in slave instruction, as I’m sure you are discovering yourselves fresh meat, but this kajirus, after his beating, found himself recovering in close-chains, awaiting the attentions of a specialist amongst the Caste of Physicians. Much like the Wagon Peoples place gold nose rings on their bosk, the Lady Fiona had this Cosian urt nose-ringed and belled. For a year or so after, he wore a head harness as he toiled, for the crime of wilfully looking upon his owner, the Lady Fiona had him wearing blinkers. Rather than being named for the day by a random token as you and all her other slaves are each day, she named the freshly made he-beast ‘piss-flaps’, so he would become infamous upon the grounds of her estate. Didn’t she piss-flaps?”
“Whmpr!” answered again with alacrity, and shrillness.
“So boys, you will see from piss-flaps here that a kajirus in the modality of a he-quadruped works nose down, arse up, toes up higher and pointed, tongue out,” Lara explained, the amusement clear in her tone. “Slowly rotate yourself piss-flaps.”
The kajirus obeyed.
“Pay attention, boys,” Lara spoke, stepping up onto the platform to join the kajirus. “You will also notice that his knees are widely split; this is designed to ensure his plump, many months denied ball sac is well exposed, both to humiliate and provide a suitable target for any correction needed. In this position, a he-quadruped becomes quite intimate with items he is assigned to clean and has a close-up view as to whether he is doing his work well.”
“Halt!” Whip Mistress Lara ordered, “Clean the sand from my sandals piss-flaps.”
Obediently, without hesitation, the kajirus quickly thrust forth his tongue and applied it to the leather of Whip Mistress Lara’s sandals with vigor.
“Notice fresh meat, the movements of the he-quadruped’s tongue, the tiny dartings, the fast licks, the longer licks, each removing the sand, the teasing between my toes, the tasting of the leather, his tongue working with zeal. He’s using his tongue for other than speaking; this is what you have ahead of you, boys. This work beast knows too, when to apply his teeth to remove grit or pebbles. He will continue until his task is done or told otherwise.”
Pleased with the display, Lara commented, “His years spent in the modality of the he-quadruped, at Lady Fiona’s pleasure, have seen piss-flaps here develop oral nimbleness to rival that of any barnyard animal. Good boy piss-flaps, I might even sneak you a handful of pellets later.”
Hunger long ago having taken over any thoughts of dignity, piss-flaps hated that he felt only positivity on hearing he might have earned himself some extra feed pellets, as he continued to remove traces of sand from Whip Mistress Lara’s feet and sandals.
Extracting herself from the amusing attentions of his eager tongue, Whip Mistress Lara directed, “Enough, piss-flaps, display your family jewels to the other boys.”
Teeth gritted, the kajirus bottled up the humiliation as he moved into position, his head staying down on the surface of the platform, his hindquarters thrust up for the viewing or inspection. He had dealt with much, much more.
Whip Mistress Lara chuckled to herself, looking down at the kajirus, displaying himself like a she-sleen in heat.
“Now, fresh meat, observe the hind legs of this he-quadruped.” Whip Mistress Lara instructed. “Not only will you complete your own toil with your toes up and pointed behind you, but you will also see that the he-quadruped’s hind legs have lovely scarlet nails. Like a kajira. You should know, boys, this is something the Lady Fiona herself introduced for her he-quadrupeds’ work-squads, which is what you boys now are, so that as they go about their labors with their pretty pointed toes high in the air behind them, on the notion it will amuse passers-by. And it does, so another indignity your behaviors have earned you boys is to have your toenails grown longer than you are perhaps accustomed and painted red.”
“It is a hard-wearing lacquer, but you should know, Lady Fiona deems it the responsibility of each he-quadruped to keep his toes pretty for those that might come across them; so scuffed he-quadruped toes, equals half rations, extra work and a good cropping for having to have the lacquer reapplied. So, boys look after your toes!” Lara chuckled again.
To the demonstration he-quadruped, Lara instructed, “Move your pretty pointed toes piss-flaps, show the fresh meat what they have to look forward to, and keep them moving so I know what a happy he-beast you are, while we consider your neglected nether regions.”
Humiliated further, the kajirus obeyed, cringing at being spoken to thus and treated so.
“Now, fresh meat, we shall discuss what I know you hold most dear, but less so to us here in Ar.” Whip Mistress Lara. “You will see his hairless full sac; now, consider how tempting a target it is for a Whip Mistress to apply her slave goad playfully. With hard work and vigor, you can avoid such an application. In time, your work will assure you gain strength and stamina, but the first month will be tough; you will suffer, but you will need to endure.”
Addressing the demonstration model, with a laugh in her voice, Whip Mistress Lara asked, “I wonder how long it’s been since these were last drained piss-flaps? I forget these things. I am sure if you were permitted to speak, you could tell me, but never mind; it is of no consequence I care about.”
The kajirus shifted a little but managed to swallow down a sob, masking how he felt about the matter.
“Those eagle-eyed amongst you may also have noticed the he-quadruped is sporting a gold ring through his cock, a rather thick gold ring at that, and the cockhead has been unbonneted at the behest of Lady Fiona and inked bright red. An extremely discomforting procedure, but one some amongst the Caste of Physicians are capable of. Lady Fiona insists the inking is refreshed each year for the greedy boy.” Lara shared. “It is another whim of Lady Fiona; she was tickled pink when she discovered he had come to her a virgin. I was with her when she chose the low gauge of the metal ring that pierces the flesh of what’s left of his cock, her way of emphasizing that it is not a cock that will ever get to fuck. Even the metal worker who performed the piercing and fitted the ring was taken aback by her choice, given the small amount of flesh he had to work with. The bright red ink, her way of drawing attention to the little thing, to shame, and serve as a warning to all her livestock.”
This time, a small sob escaped the lips of the kajirus, little more than a squeak.
“Did you have something to say, piss-flaps?” Lara snapped.
He answered with swift denial, “Whmpr, whmpr!”
“No, I didn’t think so. And so now, boys, I hate to break it to you, nor will you either, unless in the highly unlikely circumstances, you’re selected to be bred.” Whip Mistress Lara explained, looking down upon their faces. “So, I hope you got all the fucking you wanted to do out of your systems before you surrendered on the battlefields, as the best you can hope for now is a quick hand job. Few and far between, mind, once a quarter for good behavior and hard work, at best.”
“My, what a virile little he-quadruped you are, foofoo!” Whip Mistress Lara suddenly exclaimed as she noticed something. “Observe fresh meat, something for you to all aspire to, after just a few ehn, with his tongue out, cleaning my sandals; moisture flows from the little cocklet of this he-beast. The touch, taste and scent of my unwashed feet and sandals are a pleasure enough for this virgin while he works. Starved of sex relations, it will be the same for you boys too; it is what will make your he-quadruped work bearable.”
Much amused, crouching Lara gripped the demonstration model’s plump testicles and jostled the stones within, enjoying her ownership, inspecting the firming penis with curious pride. Under-sized and circumcised, she watched the red tip turning darker as his tumescence slowly progressed. As with all her male charges, she adored its helplessness, and with piss-flaps she was always amused by his speediness to dripping.
Unable to see the onlookers, the kajirus began to harden, enjoying the attention to his cock, despite the humiliations and knowing the ache in his balls from long denial would come later. The moans of his condition soon followed.
“Piss-flaps, you’re becoming erect!” Whip Mistress Lara announced in mock astonishment, and then, laughing, she extracted her hand and stood. “Look, fresh meat, piss-flaps wants to show you he can get to nearly a whole four inches when erect! Normally, he just loves to show the girls around the fires what a big boy he is after evening feed, and we have the ones that amuse, or please us, kept back from the cages for a wee while. But clearly he couldn’t control himself this morning.”
Full of merriment, Whip Mistress Lara gave her final advice to the fresh meat as she walked up and down the line of fresh meat he-quadruped. “Your duties are soon to commence, he-beasts. Maybe if you do enough, work hard enough, you will be able to put this experience behind you after just six months. Experience tells me, a year is more common. My one word of advice is take a look at this he-quadruped, squint if you have to; I appreciate that it is a tiny, frustrated erection. Frustrated as I ended his time at my feet prematurely and removed my hand from him, when I knew he was well on the way to a full stretch out. You may or may not come here as virgins like him, but as long as you retain your balls, it will be your frustrated cocks that motivate you to try harder, work harder, and keep working hard, sacrificing your dignity and everything else, if you want to end your period of being a he-quadruped.”
The End.
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