Once in the city he drove the well memorized route to an older, run-down neighbourhood and, off on a side street, parked his car behind an
abandoned storefront. With a set of three pass keys he let himself in and relocked the door. In the toilet of the back room the rusted
toilet roll holder pulled away to reveal a hidden touch pad. He punched in the ten digit code and the rear wall slid open just enough to
squeeze through. It closed automatically once he was on the other side. The tall, well-built stranger looked to be a healthy late forties,
He followed the dilapidated hallway to a “T” junction and turned left. There were a pair of lift doors and a thick finger from a huge hand
pressed the ‘down’ button. Descending seven basement levels, just short of 100 feet underground, he stepped off the elevator into a well lit
oak, maple and marble hallway, typical of any well appointed, modern office building.
Built in a below ground parking deck of a shopping center turned mall that went bad and shut down, the Women’s Slave Training Academy was
set up almost two decades ago. Bought by a Saudi land developer acting as a front, and allowed to sit idle for a couple of years before work
slowly and very gradually began, the nineteen year old Academy could easily facilitate, house, feed and train up to 225 females of all ages
The Harvester smiled as he approached the young, ring gagged blond he had harvested only six weeks prior.
The beautiful, bald teen was heavily strapped by its torso to a 6” steel pole running floor to ceiling and hung about four feet off the
polished marble tiles. Its arms were stringently twisted behind its back with its slender wrists strapped together, bent upwards in a
standard Prayer-tie and clipped off to the rear of its 7”, boned slave collar. Its entire body from the skull down, to include its eyebrows,
had been shaven clean and depilated. Due to the restrictive collar which rose to eight inches in the front, the female was forced to peer
down over its high cheek bones to observe its work. Save for its bonds, a pair of silk, shear nude nylons and black leather garter belt, the
female was nude. On the floor next to the pole lay a pair of ankle hobbles and toe shoes, apparently the female’s size. A short leather
leash hung on one side of the pole. A four foot carriage whip on the other.
In front of it a standard desk held a computer, two stacks of forms, one blank the other filled in, and a red button in the far corner. As
the female continued to hunt and peck with the big toe of each of its long, slender feet he let his hand slowly slide up its firm thigh and
tease its slit. The female drew in a deep breath but remained focused on its task. To stop meant another visit to one of the Punishment
As Harvester felt under the thin, fleshy vaginal hood and located the stiff pink bud the slave’s nipples slowly arose to full erection and
almost as soon as he began to twirl and milk its clit the female’s canal became noticeably moist. Inserting first one finger, then two then
three deep into it, he pumped slowly to start then quicker while continuing to thumb the clit.
As slaves were forbidden from orgasm during their initial six month training period its body’s response was not only immediate but
exaggerated. The female could no longer concentrate on typing out the Beating Request and Torture forms with its toes and began to pant
wildly.A large string of viscous drool began to ooze from between the thick gaged, steel ring gag wedged between its perfect white teeth and
drizzle down between its now heaving breasts. The mouth devise, also known in the trade as a Trainer Gag, was strapped tightly enough around
its flushed face that the meat of its cheeks just above and below the leather straps remained white.
Soon a thin layer of sweat covered the entire nude and its crystal blue eyes glazed over and rolled up into the back of its head. In no
time he felt the young vaginal walls begin to spasm. He continued his massaging and pumping at a quickened pace until the
sex-slave-in-training teetered on the edge of an explosive orgasm. With a sense of timing which only comes from years of training and
conditioning young females, Harvester withdrew his hand an slapped it hard across its beautiful face two or three times to bring it down.
Sweat and drool sprayed across the room. No longer flushed from arousal, its normally milky-white cheeks were now crimson from the
He waited for it to regain its composure, wiped a bead of sweat from above its left eye and one at a time he slid his thick fingers between
the steel ring gag. The female responded immediately by licking each of his fingers clean, as it had been trained.
“Do you remember me . . .” He peeled back its bottom lip to read the slave serial number tattooed across its bottom gum. “. .
‘CA’ designated the female was a Capture as opposed to a Commission designated by ‘CO’ or the extremely rare ‘VO’ for Volunteer. This
particular piece was 18 years old at the time of its harvest and was scheduled to undergo the Academy’s standard six month, basic sex slave
training course, hence the ‘06’ after which the well built teen might be shipped to any number of speciality courses. Such courses included
but were not limited to, Lesbian Training, Pony Training, Human Toilet & Maid Training or Forniphilia Training where it would be turned into
a piece of living human furniture for the use of its owner or owners. All of this would be determined following the seasonal auction as it
was better to specialize the stock after it was sold and its new owner decided what to do with it. Regardless of how each young female would
spend the remainder of its sexually useful life was no longer in its control, but depended solely on the needs of the Academy.
“Mather . . . yeath Mather. Mather . . . you are the one who . . . who broth me here Mather.”
“Yes I did. How are you getting on with your training, 18-06?”
Mather, thank uu fer gifthing me . . . a reethon for livnth, Mather. Mather I pray that one dayth I may be . . . worthy to serth men. . .
and women for their sexthual pleasthures, Mather.”
He began to slowly twist the still erect, pale pink nipples between his forefingers and thumbs. A renewed wave of pleasure washed over its
“What is your thirteenth Zone Of Torture, CA-18-06?”
ZOT’s were taught and drummed into them from the second week of training, largely for the ease of the Trainers, Gyno-Vets and Restraints
Technicians. A female could be ordered to present a body part for treatment or restraint by zone.
“Mather . . . my thirteenth Thone Of Thorture is the back of my thighs from the hollowths of my kneeths to the lower createths of my
“Very good, cunt. Now get back to work!”
“Yeth . . .Mather.” He went to the door several yards behind the sexretary.
“Buzz me in, cunt!”
“Mather . . . yes . . . Mather.” The teen raised its right foot, pointed its nylon sheathed toe and pressed the red button. The door opened
and he entered.
The sweat-soaked, barely conscious young female slowly resumed typing.
“Good to see you, H! Have a seat.” Harvester sat off to the right of the Director in a dark overstuffed chair against the opposite wall of
the spacious office. “Drink?”
“What took you? Thought you’d never ask!” The Director reached under his desk and pressed a button. A brief electric spark of electricity
was heard from behind the closet door followed by the high-pitched squeal of a gagged, young girl. The closet door slid back and Harvester
smiled and shook his head at the Director.
“Always with the toys!”
“Gotta keep the place interesting.” A tall, dark-haired, slender girl with obviously enhanced breasts was pinned against the back wall of
the small closet. Its large dark eyes grew wide and darted nervously back and forth across the room as the door slid open. The Director
pushed a second button and the large metal arm across its face began to slowly swing away withdrawing the curved, over-sized, hard rubber
penis from its gapping mouth. The female gasped in air and coughed briefly then, as soon as the steel bands across its shapely thighs and
shins slid away, slowly hobbled forward on its toe shoes.
Dressed nearly identical to the slave in reception, seamed, shear-nude stockings and garter belt, its head had not yet been shaved but its
ass-length, shining black hair was drawn into a high pony tail on the crown of its skull. It wore a tiny white maid’s hat and small white
apron whose hem was cut about two inches above its bare, vaginal lips. As with its sister in slavery its arms and wrists were clipped off to
its high collar from behind and its elbows were strapped together. This agonized female however, sported two unique features.
One was a customized hobbler bar clamped around its ankles, about fifteen inches in length, with another just above the knees, about ten
inches in length. This forced the young girl’s knees in and splayed the feet out making it more difficult to walk than had it only been
strapped into the impossibly tall ‘ballet’ or toe shoes.
A third pipe, about two inches in diameter, had been welded to the center of the knee hobbler and rose to penetrate, fairly deeply from the
pained expressions on its youthful face, its vaginal opening so that each time it shuffled forward it violated itself with the polished
The second more devious, and at least as painful piece of training gear, was its polished brass serving tray. From large rings imbedded
deep back in its areole, delicate but sturdy chains descended to the tray strapped so tightly around its already slender waist as to force
it to breathe through its ring gag in short gasps and pants as it shuffled along. The weight of the half full scotch bottle and two glasses
distorted its nipples horribly and its breasts were like footballs.
The men watched in amusement as the slave painfully negotiated the fifteen or twenty yards to the desk where it obediently stopped in front
of the Director. That’s when Harvester noticed it. An electrical cable dangled from its anus and snaked back into the closet disappearing
into the wall.
The Director took the bottle and glasses, ordered the slave back into its closet and poured. He tossed a file across to his number one
At any one time there are several harvesters working for the Company, owners and operators of the W.S.T.A., all over the globe. But there
is only one they call, “The Harvester”.
With less than a year to retirement and 987 harvests to his credit, this consummate professional could name his price. But money was no
longer an issue. He had, since establishing his legend with the Company, (by drugging his prom date and selling her for $100), amassed
millions over his nineteen year career. The problem he grappled with now was how to hit 1,000 before retirement in nine months.
The item the Director was briefing the Harvester on that night was a standard acquisition except that it had already been sold.
Additionally its new owner would pay the extra fee to have the female surgically converted to a Non-Breeding Milker and later trained at the
Ranch for conversion into a racing Pony. Harvester glanced over the cover page of the item’s surveillance file.
Cunt Slave FILE #CA1906
ITEM: Catherine LeMay
DESIGNATION, (Pre-Harvest): CA 19SS/NB/M/PS
Height: 5’10’’Weight: 125 lbs
Breasts: 36B Waist: 23”
Hair: Dusty Blond Eyes: Green
Skin Tone: Pale/tanned
Occupation, (Pre-Harvest): Student
Method of Acquisition: Standard Harvest
Ship via: World Wide Vaginal Acquisition & Supply