Katrina's Taming

KATRINA'S TAMING (by Eve Adorer)

Chapter 26 – An Uncomfortable Journey

Outside to greet me was an all-girl camera crew and an eager sadistic crowd of girls speedily gathering around me, quickly joined by the three girls from the waiting room. Obviously I was some kind of spectacle. A totally naked girl bound in a movement-restraining arm glove, tiptoed in round wooden clogs and gagged, is, I suppose, always going to be a spectacle in the public streets and I was now in the public streets bound in just that cruel and demeaning way.

This was part of the deal I had been forced to come to, and such were my debts it was necessary. I was being taken to my fate, whatever that fate was to be, and I had no idea what my fate was in fact to be.

I had no idea at that split-second what my fate was in fact to be, until I listened with the fascination of horror to a voice-over being recorded by Angelin, as Heatherhoney led me toward a trailer at the back of a four-wheel-drive sports utility vehicle. I listened with the fascination of horror to the voice-over being recorded by Angelin, as I had never ever before heard of the subject she was talking about. A whoreox? What in goodness' name was or is a whoreox?

"A whoreox is a humanoid trying to hide that it is really cattle. In modern society we are surrounded by whoreoxen dressed and behaving as if they were just another girl among us. Unfortunately, as all keen hunters and lovers of blood-sports will know, wild whoreoxen have been hunted almost to extinction. The hunting, stalking and shooting of whoreoxen, though superb sport, forced those creatures to adapt and adopt human ways and mix with humans so as to hide themselves among, and thereby best protect themselves from their one and only predator. It takes a keen eye to spot the whoreoxen among us. They have adapted cunningly. They have even learned to speak human languages. They had to adapt to survive. We humans have to weed them out from among us if we are not to have our bloodlines diluted and polluted."

This was clearly a fantasy being laid down as the foundation and theme of the film in which I was the central attraction; the victim; the eponymous whoreox, plucked from her disguised life among civilised humans. I was truly amazed at this formulation of sadism. I had never ever before heard of such a thing. I was about to find out in the most direct of ways, what it involved.

Angelin continued her commentary: "A whoreox has no belongings, no right to belongings, including no right to a home. It may be left to roam in the wild to mature to puberty whereafter it is fair game for the huntsgirl; or be taken and tamed. If it is tamed successfully, it may be given shelter on a farm. But it can be turned out at any time. It has no rights to a roof." Angelin announced all this to camera, continuing the beginning of the second tape of my torture and what the fantasy that was happening to me for real was being founded upon.

Heatherhoney tugged gently on the lead rope attached to one of the rings at either side of my steel mouth gag. "Twum on ickle worwox, twum on now, we have got to gwet ickle worwox in that nice warmy cwattle-twuck haven't we den? Twum on now ickle worwox…."

I began to move. It was a relief to do so. I picked up my clogs and clomped forward on the hard concrete slabs of the outside pavement. At every step my skyscrapered legs made me swing my hips girlilly, and my beautiful bum swished gently wide side-to-side, as did my big unencumbered breasts in opposite motion to my bottom.

I had already experienced walking skyscrapered pirouette legged in my clogs inside, my feet arched back painfully and cruelly within them, to maximise the steepling of my super-erotic long legs. I was now made to wiggle and waggle my provocative bountiful bottom, clomping in my clogs, through the very attentive crowd of whistling and jeering girls on the sidewalk.

A swathe had to be forced in the crowd in front of me: a crowd of my fellow girls clearly enjoying my humiliation and thus further humiliating me.

I lifted my gorgeous tiptoed legs and planted my clogs swinging my rolling rump as I moved, and, for the first time as they hit the hard paving stones, I really heard the full clomp, clomp, clomp, of my clogs and realised its significance.

My pretty pink tongue flickered sexily through the gag in my agape mouth as I fought to concentrate on walking in my humiliating bondage.

"Twum on now Ickle worwox. Twum on now…" coaxed Heatherhoney.

Oh god no! Oh god, I was to become, a whoreox!! Now I knew that the clogs on my feet were my cloven-hooves. Oh god no! Oh god I was about to become, a whoreox!! I was bound in this way because I was about to become a human ox. I had no knowledge of what I would be subjected to in this latest manifestation of my taming, and that only added to the tingling of fear that shuddered down my superbly girl-arched spine.

As we progressed and I clomp, clomp, clomped my clogs on the pavement in the open air, the humiliation of my bondage and of the dreadful fact of the act of my being exposed to all the world totally naked and bound so cruelly as a human ox, suddenly hit me between my legs, and I emitted a helpless sexy little squeal, made strange and low like a "moo" because of my imprisoned tongue, as my nectar oozed inside my slit. I was momentarily astounded by the weird animalistic noise that the clamping of my tongue by the flanged bit in my mouth had caused me to utter.

This was a strange, strange feeling. I had never thought like this before. Why did I want these strangers on the street to see me nude, to see me enslaved, to witness me being cruelly punished, strangely bound, and being forced against my will to perform like an ox for two schoolgirls, girls who carried whips to use on me were I to disobey them or try and challenge their total mistressy over me?

I found it deeply sexually arousing to be so humiliated, so forced to behave sub-humanly, to be forced to strip totally nude and have no further right to clothes, to have to remain totally nude at all times like an animal.

I emitted another little contralto moo of sexual arousal. I had no choice but to go where they were leading me. No choice but to expose myself totally nude and bound prisoner for the pleasure of my tormentors who could take me where they pleased and do with me what they wanted.

I had a human's mind. I was an intelligent girl. But I was also girl in body. I was a girl. A girl has a cunt between her legs: her cunt can take charge of and completely overrule her head.

I was sexually aroused by what was happening. Very aroused. My head-brain was screaming that this must not be allowed to happen: what was being done to me was cruel and unnatural. But my cunt told me that I was a bitch who deserved all she was getting and more. And my head resigned, accepting that I must repay my debts as I had agreed to, through being tortured this way.

My progress was inexorable, clomp, clomp, clomp, clomp, clomp, clomp went my cloven-clogs on the hard concrete paving slabs with my lovely breasts swung wildly to and fro and bounced and flounced, bumping softly into each other as they swung wide out and back in on my chest. It was inevitable I would go to my fate exposed naked as the day I was born and humiliatingly bound imprisoned. I felt the breeze on my totally nude body as I was made to clomp along on my divine long legs with my unencumbered breasts swinging wildly side-to-side, wide-to-wide, wildly wholly free. I gave another little contralto moo as we approached the four-wheel-drive and trailer.

And what was this I could hear. Someone I knew was there. A friend was there!

"Here she come!!" I heard a young woman's voice cry. It was Mi Li, the lovely Korean girl-boy shouting to ensure all eyes were on me, as if she needed to.

I had not expected this. Fear once more hit the pit of my stomach followed by a silly flashed false assumption Mi Li would get me freed. Stupidly I found it sexy to think of being so exposed to strangers. I had not realised it was likely I would be displayed this way before people that knew me. The one girl there that knew me had seen be tensioned torsioned and tortured many times before, but crazily girl-illogically, I felt more exposed, more naked, more humiliated to have my friend Mi Li see me this way than complete strangers, and my sexual arousal momentarily doused itself.

"Twum on Ickle worwox, twum on now, there's a gwood ickle worwox…." coaxed Heatherhoney humiliating me on camera and microphone and before the live crowd of pretty girls that had surrounded us.

I was outside in the open air in the open and free world, bound as a whoreox, being forced to go to a girl-farm wherever that might be, and whatever that was for real or for fantasy. I was outside and my clogs were clomp, clomp, clomp, on the concrete of the sidewalk. As I was urged along, my gorgeous bum swung from side-to-side forced to do so by the tiptoeing of my glorious legs in the cruel cloven-clog-hooves I wore, and my glorious udders swayed and swung and juddered and flowed divinely.

As I walked along at full stretched height on my divine legs, my arms cruelly tied hard behind me, my 36-inch D-cup breasts swayed out wide of my body and then back toward each other, or in the same direction, or flounced up and down, or knocked soundlessly wonderfully beautifully into each other, they were so wild and so free as I super-wiggled along, my natural girl-gate multiplied many-fold by my tiptoeing.

And I could hear all the women and girls I had thought were the equal of my friends and neighbours calling out as I girl-wiggled along clomp, clomp, clomp on my cloven-clogs. And none of it was complimentary. All of it was extremely cruel.

The girls and women seemed to hate me. They were jealous of my lovely face and my stunning body, and they hated me. My torture seemed to be bringing out the worst in the sweetest natured people, especially the younger girls.

As they watched the exciting enticing inviting undulations of my dimple-sided bottom there was a rising chorus of cries that I was meant to hear but could not make out completely as they were so intermingled: "slag", and "bitch" featured most often. "cunt" was a favourite of the women. "slag" and "bitch" of the girls.

"Little miss high and mighty" and "taken down a peg or two" were phrases I caught from the girls, along with the invocation "whip the slag", or "whip her fucking arse"

This was so horrible and yet now once again it was turning me on, such was the deep contrary power of my cunt-mind. This response to the sight of my helplessly bound body was turning me on wondrously, my nectar was oozing from the closed lips of my completely publicly exposed slit as I clomp, clomp, clomped gracefully along.

"Whip slag" I heard a familiar voice cry.

The stunningly pretty girlboy Mi Li was following me close behind and shouting and screaming in her broken English that I was: "fucking slag" that I "deserve what got coming" that she "hope fucking hurt" that she "all ways me hate", that she "have bought DVD" and how she was "want see suffer", and then returning to "whip slag, make suffer, give fucking hard whipping, whip tits off and tell from Mi Li wanted done her. Whip till bleed fucking slag………"

I could detect the sexual desire in her voice. And, above the cruel cacophony my own sexual moans could not be heard. My total helplessness and this utterly extreme abuse of me as I wiggled by, were turning me on, overwhelmingly powerfully and my clit had escaped its hiding-hood and was pulsing madly within my nectar filled slit.

As she would see in the DVD later, Mi Li's horrible betrayal of me caused what would, but for my tongue being imprisoned by my mouth gag, have been a particularly loud sexual, girly sexual, arousal cry, and that my nipples were engorged and hard and, she would guess right that, though hidden, my clitoris was hard and throbbing even though it was being cruelly bitten by my eternal torment ring.

I girly-wiggle walked through this torrent of terrible tormenting taunts helpless to do anything other than obey the gentle tug on my lead-rope as I clomp, clomp, clomped on my clogs to the awaiting four-wheel drive station-wagon with the cattle-cart trailer attached behind it. The ramp of the trailer I was to be put in was already down.

Were the debts I owed worth this horrible torture?

To be honest I must tell you that by this stage I had all but forgotten what I was being punished for. My mind was rather more filled by my present physical predicament, my total helplessness, my complete and utter degradation, and my strange sexual arousal, rather than on why I was being tortured.

I heard a few more cries of, "whip slag" and Mi Li's shout of, "suffer bitch" as my clogs clomped on the ramp and I was coaxed into the sweet smelling sawdust and straw strewn floored interior of the windowless cattle-cart.

"Suffer bitch", came Mi Li's sexually charged shout one last time.

My lead-rope was removed, and Heatherhoney tethered me by both end rings of my mouth gag to a bar that ran all around the three sides of the box other than the door-ramp side.

She then patted me lightly on my bottom saying, "Ickle worwox has been wewy gwood. Ickle worwox mustn't be fwighty-wightened. We are gwowing to take ickle worwox to its nwice new homewomey".

With that she got out of the cattle-cart, the door ramp was raised, and I found myself in what seemed like total darkness.

I could hear talking outside my cattle-cart. I could see nothing at first; but then my eyes got used to the semi-dark. But what use were my eyes, when my rigidly held body could not turn and I could not move my eyes to either side to see other than but one of the metal walls of the trailer I was in.

I was tethered by my mouth gag, both the tether and the way my arms were tied, meant I could not turn my body. I could only look straight in front of me, and straight in front of me was only the bare steel or aluminium or whatever, side of my cattle-cart.

The sweet smell of fresh straw filled my nostrils, and I sneezed. I moved my clog-shod feet in the straw and sawdust below me to try and find a comfortable stance, and I sneezed once more.

Then my trailer gave a lurch and I was taken off-balance momentarily: we were moving. We were moving and I was being taken, bound a helpless prisoner, to a girl-farm, wherever it might be and whatever it might be.

As my cattle-cart lurched and swung and tilted over at corners for seeming hours on end, the events of my torture so far were replaying in my mind. And I so wanted to keep them replaying, as that seemed the only way to stop myself thinking of the horrors of what could be coming next.

I was bondaged as a whoreox. What were they going to do to me?

My sexual abandonment had completely subsided once more. But then a new determination came over me, and disappeared and reappeared as my brain went around and around in circles.

At that very moment a new desire came over me. It was not the sexual wantonness that had hit me during the humiliation of walking the gauntlet of the crowd's taunts. It was a new and far more distressing desire given my circumstances.

I needed to urinate. I needed to release my pee, and I needed to release my pee badly.

Had my tormenters not considered this need?

Of course they had. I was now a whoreox. I was no longer a human being. I was an animal. I could not expect the luxury of a proper place to do what nature demanded I must do. I had the proper place for a whoreox. I was in the proper place for a whoreox. A whoreox is an animal. It is to be expected that a whoreox will release its pee or droppings whenever and wherever. Humans must therefore take minimal precautions to make it easier to clean up after the animals. Why else was there straw and sawdust on the floor of my cattle-cart?

I fought like a human to control the desire.

How long was this journey? We must have been travelling for hours. I had heard the main highway. At least I thought it must be the main highway. But, if it was the highway, which highway was it anyway?

I still fought to control the desire to urinate; though it was stronger still. What were the chances I would be allowed to release my pee privately and comfortably: normally: normally for a human being that is?

And then, how could I tell them of what I needed with my mouth gagged and my tongue imprisoned by my gag anyway? I knew the answers to all these questions, but I still fought to retain my urine and my dignity.

The need to pee receded for a time. Then, once more I felt my face hot with the effort of controlling the one desire that was now obsessing me, the desire to empty my bladder. The need came back all too soon and with a vengeance.

I fought and fought, quite literally crossing my gorgeous legs and squeezing my powerful thighs together in the effort to keep from releasing my piss, and by fighting to control my ever eager bladder, I was performing a lewdly super-erotically deeply sexually enticing dance before the hidden infrared cameras in the tow-cart I was in.

I was with my wonderful thighs crossed as my cattle-cart went round a particularly tight corner, albeit slowly. I had to stand and part my lovely legs to brace myself lest I be hurt by a fall…… …and my pee suddenly, shockingly, irretrievably, and inevitably, gushed out of me.

I stood divine legs parted and my pee poured like a mountain stream, running down the wall of my cattle-cart and splashing onto my bare legs and my clogs.

My physical relief as I emptied my bladder, was nothing to my mental torment as I realised that I would always have to perform this act this way henceforth. I was now a whoreox. This is what whoreoxen had to do.

As the rising smell of my thick strong yellow pee filled the cattle-cart, I closed my lovely dark brown eyes and thought of the shame I must endure: the shame and the utter degradation and felt the stinging acidic golden droplets of my girl-pee on my glorious legs.

We had come to a stop. There were voices. The ramp of my cattle-cart was being lowered. Heatherhoney came into my box and untethered me.

I wanted to apologise for having urinated in the cattle-cart, but Heatherhoney did not pay any heed to the smell or the sodden straw. She was dealing with a whoreox after all. Whoreoxen have to release their pee. All animals have to urinate. What was so surprising in finding a cattle-cart in need of cleaning-out because the whoreox had sprayed its pee or pooped its droppings during its journey?

The other blonde beauty ranch-hand, Angelin, moved into the box with a brush and shovel as I clomp, clomp, clomp clomped down the ramp led by Heatherhoney who used the rope that had hitherto tethered me within my cattle-cart.

"If it's shit or peed in there, put the soiled hay in its stall" called Nina, who was suddenly back on the scene and seemed to be running this show.

I clomped in my cloven-clog-hooves down the ramp of the cattle-cart into an open courtyard. Nina took one look at me and ordered: "Hose its legs down".

As I was tethered by Heatherhoney to have the cold water of a hose played on my lovely legs to wash off the pee that was burning my skin, I tried to look around, realising that this must be the girl-farm, but all I could see was a small single-story brick building with double doors. By double doors I mean doors above and below each other as is more usual with stables. I squeaked as the cold water hit me and at the realisation I was looking at a cattle-barn.

And I realised for sure that I was looking at a cattle-barn, when Heatherhoney went past me with a wheelbarrow full of the straw from the cattle-cart trailer I had been in, still stinking and wet with my pee, over the cobbles of the yard, opened the top and bottom doors of the barn, and ladled the soiled straw on its already thickly straw-strewn floor, scattering it with a pitchfork.

My heart sank. This was to be my roof. This stark barn was to be where I must live from now onwards. This is what I had come to through being unable to pay my debts. This former international model renowned throughout the world for her incredible beauty was to spend the rest of her days as a whoreox in a straw floored cattle-barn.

I was untethered, still with droplets of the cold water with which I had just had my pee washed off, pearly glistenings on the divinely soft skin of my wondrously wonderful legs.

The cameras continued to hum, as Angelin announced: "Since we sold Daisy last week to a farmer who desperately needed another whoreox to put to plough, this new whoreox is to have Daisy's stall."

Was that to be my fate too? Was I to be made to pull a plough in the open field all day and maybe, who knows, whipped to drive me?

I clomp clomped at the end of the tether in one of my mouth gag rings, obediently from where I had been tied to hose me down, onto the cobbled yard in front of the barn where my clog-hooves made a particularly loud clatter as their sexy sound echoed from the building's walls.

I was being taken toward the open barn. It was presently empty, but I was indeed to be put in that barn: I was indeed to be put in the barn with its doors open and Angelin scattering the soiled straw from the cattle-cart within it.

My progress toward the barn was halted momentarily for Nina to order that I be fed and watered and then tethered for the night. That last phrase was strange to me. I suddenly realised that I had no idea whatsoever what time of day it was. Yes, of course I knew it was the afternoon; late afternoon even, we had been travelling all day, but was it 4.00 or 6.00?

I moved to lift my lovely left arm to look at my watch. Stupid girl! What watch? I wore no watch!! I did not know, and I had no right to know what time it was. I could be put in a barn or taken out whenever and wherever they pleased. I had no say in the matter whatsoever. I was a whoreox now. Time has no meaning to a whoreox.

I now looked at the barn. I could see that the straw was perhaps approaching one-foot deep. There was a threshold at the bottom of the doorframe to allow this build-up.

I was next made to girl-wiggle-walk, clomp, clomp, my sexy way toward the barn to enter it and, for the first time, caught its strange smell. It came from the straw. There could be no doubt of that. It was a strong earthy odour. I could also see the waves of warmth rising from it, as if from a fermenting garden waste-tip.

As we got closer still, I could see that the straw was dark and damp looking, and that it had only been further covered a little by a thinly scattered top layer for me, the straw on which I had urinated in my cattle-cart had been scattered in the barn along with some unsoiled fresh straw as that top layer.

Then I heard, as I was of course meant to hear, Angelin's astonishing announcement to camera:

"There is a premium price on girlnure, especially if it's rich in whoreox droppings", Angelin stated cooly.

I closed my lovely dark brown eyes at the full horror of what she was saying and what it could only mean for me and where I would be housed.

"A whoreox barn is only cleaned out once every couple of months. There is usually a good harvest by then. We advertise the girlnure locally. The demand far outstrips the supply, which means a very handsome profit for the farm as the price can be set high. Girlnure bought from this farm is sold world-wide" Angelin told one of the cameras, the other being on my gorgeous face to take in my reaction to this new cruelty.

"Our new whoreox will be finishing off where Daisy started. There is some four week's worth of girlnure in its stall already."

"As I have said, girlnure is so sought after, that it can bring a higher price than a whoreox itself", Angelin continued.

"I realise it must seem a strange distortion in the price balance in the market for commodities, but market forces are market forces, and even twelve-months-worth of our new whoreox's droppings will be worth several times more than the whoreox itself is at market." Angelin announced.

"Whoreoxen in captivity are plentiful. But, even so, their girlnure takes time to accumulate and ferment. So, when you think about it, it is perhaps little wonder that a whoreox can soon be worth less than its own accumulated dung." Angelin concluded.

I did not know what to think about this calculatedly demeaning and humiliating statement, but somehow I knew that this was no game: no pretence. I had entered a new world. I had entered the world of animals. I was become a whoreox and was being treated as a whoreox. I was become an animal and was being treated as an animal.

I was also being told that I at least had worth for one thing. I was being told that the something I was of worth for, but worth less than, was my own droppings: my shit. I hung my head, insofar as I could, I hung my head in drowning-deep utter shame.

I was now so close that I could hear the flies buzzing around and in at out of the barn, loving my humiliating barn, as I was led in to where I would from now on spend my nights and, I assumed, any other time I was not required in the day.

I was led toward the barn, Nina herself having taken over the tether attached to my mouth gag, whilst Heatherhoney and Angelin went ahead.

Every pressure had been put on me now to think as a whoreox, my new status in the world. But I was, as yet, still thinking humanly, and therefore feeling the depth of humiliation to which I was being reduced. That was good from the standpoint of my tormentors. I was torturing myself, lowering my own self-esteem, breaking my own spirit.

I clomped over the barn yard cobbles on my gorgeous pirouetted legs, and up the gentle ramp that would take me for the first time into the barn.

The walls of the barn were stark and cold looking. They were painted white, but the paint was beginning to flake off. A metal bar ran across its front at above my head-height, even tiptoed as I was. My eyes adjusted from the bright sunlight outside to see Heatherhoney and Angelin at the rear of the barn:

"We've filled its water manger and it will have the warm bran raw oats and fresh grass mix", said the lovely Heatherhoney addressing Nina.

"I would have preferred it only had grass", said Nina in a slightly tetchy voice.

"Sorry Heatherhoney", she went on, "You are right to think of cleansing its system of any residue of human food. The bran will help with that. But I have tablets from the vet for it. I suppose we could give it both the bran and the tablets. But I don't want it to shit the tablets straight out again though..."

I felt sorry for the truly gorgeous Heatherhoney, who blushed with her upset at getting something wrong, as she was removing my dreadful mouth gag.

If you think that I was horrified at what I was expected to eat and how I was expected to eat and drink you would, of course, be absolutely right. But I was dreadfully thirsty, and found myself bending over into the water trough to suck up such as I could with my pretty lips, even before I had really thought about the indignity.

I heard Angelin giggle. "Gosh, it is keen!" she mocked.

"If it tries to talk like a human, whip it and whip it good and damned hard", Nina reminded Angelin and Heatherhoney, my two very leggy ranch-hands.

I refused the bran and oats mix. If I held out, I thought, they will not treat me so cruelly; they would not want me to starve.

As I turned from the troughs my exciting mouth still wet with water, enticing and kissably seductive, the two ranch-hands took a grip of my bound arms above the elbow: Angelin was suddenly also pinching my nose tight so as to close my nostrils. What the hell was going on?

I had, of course, to open my mouth to breath and Nina grabbed her chance. From behind her back she produced a straight hollow tube, which she pushed into my open mouth over my tongue and part down my throat.

I was gagging and gasping for air, as I saw her puff her cheeks out and blow into the end of the tube that was now in her mouth also. She blew as hard as she could, and I felt a lump of something solid come out of the end of the tube in my mouth and down my throat.

"Hold it still" she commanded as she, I could see, was putting a lump of something into the tube again. Once more she put her own lovely lips over her end of the tube, and once again she blew into it, and the lump of whatever she had put into it, went down my throat.

It all happened so quickly.

Then I recalled something I had seen on television. It was about a vet giving cattle a pill. I had been dosed with medicine. I had been dosed in the manner used by a vet to give pills to cattle. I had been given the medicine prescribed by the girl-farm's vet. Further deep and hurtful humiliation had just been heaped upon me before the gleefully recording cameras.

My tongue-imprisoning gag was then being put back between my teeth. I was led forward and tethered by my gag to the bar across the ceiling standing tip-of-tiptoed in my cloven-clogs in the barn. They were leaving me and closing the barn's top and bottom doors. I looked pitifully after them with my gorgeous eyes tear-filled, but nobody even looked around at me.

"Didn't we ought to let it lie down so it can sleep" asked Heatherhoney in a prompted question for the benefit of the cameras and, of course, also purposely for my hearing.

"Don't be such a naïf booby", Nina responded with charming laugher in her voice, "Have you never seen them in a field?" she asked, not expecting an answer: "Horses and whoreoxen sleep standing up, you silly girl".