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Secrets of Dark Farm (Sam Moss)

Secrets of Dark Farm by Sam Moss

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The farm was isolated, away from prying eyes, which was just as well. Phil Blake did not want the community to know that he had both his wife Andrea and sister-in-law Lizzie as his sex slaves. Nor did he want anyone to know about the stray hitch-hikers and ramblers he enticed into his cellar of pain!

There is a tunnel from the cellar leading to a long buried monastery where there is yet more pain awaiting the unwary.

Phil is a master of bondage and suffering, concocting the most incredible ordeals for those who cross his path.

Melanie is appointed as community psychiatric worker to the family when Phil is caught trying to kidnap yet another woman but before she knows what is happening, she is entrapped by the conniving lesbian Lizzie and ends up in the cellar, tortured beyond belief and yet finding sexual pleasure in the pain she suffers, as much as she finds overwhelming satisfaction in the love affair she begins with the insatiable slave!

Extreme bondage and suffering, inexhaustible nymphomaniac lovers and agony are the hallmarks of this book.

Do not buy it if you are at all squeamish!

Product type: EBook    Published by: Fiction4All    Published: 2 / 2018

No. words: 32300

Style: Male Dom - M/F, Sex Slavery / Training

Available Formats: MobiPocket (MOBI)  EPUB  PDF  MS Reader  This book has a format which can be downloaded to Kindle


Chapter One

It was about two-thirty in the afternoon when they set off from the tiny market town of Calston, heading for the harsh countryside around it.
Their appearances in Calston were only ever of necessity. They made no close friends and no-one visited their farm. Few would want to visit, it being an isolated and difficult farm to get to.
The three were obviously content with each otherís company and in all honesty there were many families the same.
People did, however, find the two sisters rather odd. There had been rumours about them not having the same father, but this was never expressed directly to the women.
Andrea was tall, adding to her height with high-heeled shoes. Her clothes were outrageous for such a conservative community. Proud fleshy breasts were always on show from some flimsy blouse; a tight skirt or well-fitting jeans accentuated the curves of her hips. Dark hair cascaded down in curls about her face. Long earrings shone from beneath her curls, the tiny chain-links reaching down to her shoulders. Her thick dark red lipstick glistened, her dark eyes glowered from beneath heavily mascara coated lashes. She was a tempting dish bringing lustful intent to the men and jealousy from the women.
Lizzie was a different kettle of fish. She was very short and very thin. Regardless of the weather she would wear an old blue raincoat that came down beyond her knees. An inch or two of her blue jeans could be seen before disappearing into her boots. The raincoat was normally buttoned up to the neck, even when the sun was out. A head scarf covered her hair, a pale face peeking out from the frame it made. Thin pale lips and a pale complexion made her green eyes stand out. People sometimes stared at her, but her shyness to public gaze made her elfin-like frame retreat behind the protective and confident figures of Andrea and Phil.
Phil was much more traditional, shiny brogues, well-cut trousers, check shirt and, if needed, a wax jacket. His face was by no means handsome, his nose too long, his mouth too large, his eyes not blue enough, his light hair tousled.
The journey to Dark Farm took them a long time, turning from main roads to minor roads to single track roads. After that they headed onto the long, overgrown, un-made track that went only to their farm. It took something in the order of half an hour to cover that boulder strewn route, driving along at a snail's pace.
Phil drove his wife and sister home as usual and as usual stopped the rugged vehicle at the beginning of their track. He and Andrea glared at the strange little figure in the back seat.
"Let's see you working the gears from here to the house."
The deep gravel voice was met with a faint, musical cry.
"Don't keep us waiting." Andrea insisted.
Without a word, Lizzie hitched up her raincoat and undid the thick leather belt on her jeans. The top button came open, the zip smoothly descended in her thin white fingers. She raised her buttocks from the seat and slid the jeans down to her knees, revealing her stick-like, pale thighs.
It was awkward to get herself between the two front seats, but once she had manoeuvred her legs beyond the gear-stick, she hitched her coat a little higher taking the edge of her T-shirt with it.
Her naked bottom slowly lowered as she bent her knees. The knob on the gear-stick nestled at the entrance to her vagina.
"Get it right up there." Phil growled.
Lizzie blew away a deep breath and began to sensuously wriggle her little bottom to the delight of her close observers.
The shiny black knob had a flat top to it and was a struggle to get started into the soft channel. Lizzie swayed from side to side, urging an edge to open the way. Soft expulsions of air signalled success was imminent. She rolled harder and harder until her head stretched upwards to confirm entry had been made.
Her knees buckled immediately and the shaft disappeared from between her legs, thrusting the knob-end to the limit. When it hit the dome of her shaft, she slammed her hands against the dashboard.
"Aaaaagh." She wailed with a trill of high-pitched notes.
Despite previous experience of this savage intruder, she still found it still a shock of untold magnitude. She settled for a moment, gasping air back into her lungs.
Phil chuckled and revved the engine excitedly. "Get it in first."
He pressed the clutch pedal as Lizzie swung her body forward. Another musical call came from the impaled body as the knob pressed against her insides. The stick moved forward and found first gear. Her head fell forward as success was achieved.
Phil revved the engine again and shifted his foot speedily from the pedal. The vehicle shot forward and began to shudder and bounce its way up the track.
Lizzie clenched her fists and screwed her eyes so tightly shut that tears escaped in long streaks down her hollow cheeks.
The vehicle picked up speed and the random pulsing in her vagina was a sensuous stimulation to both her and her fellow travellers.
Phil called out his next command. "Second gear ... now!"
Lizzie instantly obeyed, shoving her bottom back. A thin short scream accompanied the fact that Phil had not pushed the clutch down, creating huge resistance to her thrusts and the vibration of grating gears rattled up the shaft in frightening violence.
She kept pushing until the clutch sunk beneath Phil's foot, allowing her to reach the goal she was set. This did not ease Lizzie's plight. They were travelling so much faster that the rattles and thrusts transmitted up Lizzie's love hole were far more excruciating and erratic. She knew only that she had to hang on for however long it took to reach the farm. The vehicle could not be put in any higher gear without risking breaking something on the dreadful surface.
Minutes passed. Lizzie bit her lip. A few more minutes and she was beginning to shake her head. A few more and nausea was grasping at her.
Andrea lifted the coat that had slid down with the bumps. She revealed the little bottom oscillating to the uneven beat. She looked at Phil and was met with a wide-eyed, smiling face.
"Whoopeee!" came the driver's cry.
"Oh hell, please. We must be nearly there."
Lizzie wanted to plead some more but feared if she opened her mouth again she would vomit. It was best to endure in silence.
The car screeched to a halt. Lizzie gulped hard, satisfied to have finished the ordeal in one piece. She moved the stick into neutral and now had the task of getting the knob out of her trembling body.
The two voyeurs stayed to enjoy the efforts of the suffering Lizzie. It was hardly credible that such a small thin frame could accommodate such a wicked device. That it had entered with difficulty ensured it would only come out with greater aggravation. Her body rocked eccentrically. She leaned far across the lap of her sister, then across that of her brother-in-law. All the time her quivering voice softly chanted her distress.
She raised herself up and the knob suddenly came free of its tight-fitting sheath. Lizzie gave a long sigh.
Andrea got out and rushed around to the front of the car. By the time she had covered the short distance, Phil had got his thick, throbbing tool free of his trousers. It stood hard and ready for satisfaction.
Andrea opened the car door and grabbed hold of the cock, pulling it towards her, opening her mouth to take it deep inside.
"Lick it clean, Lizzie." Phil commanded.
She duly did as she was told, popping out the tip of her tongue to lick away her own glistening juices from the stick, delicately working her way up to the knob.
Meantime Andrea was bobbing her head faster and faster on Phil's cock, her long black hair falling forward to hide the immense penis from view.
As Lizzie finished her cleaning task, Phil called in confirmation of his ejaculation. Andrea greedily gulped down the thick liquid. When Phil had finished pulsing out the last drop, Andrea withdrew with a satisfied smile on her face, lips coated with her lover's thick juice.
Lizzie moved across in well-rehearsed behaviour to clean Phil's weakening tool with her sensitive tongue. It was a pleasure for Phil to just sit there and let these two women satisfy his needs.
Lizzie hitched up her coat and pulled hard on the old T-shirt beneath it. She used it to wipe Phil dry, then turned and did the same to the gear stick.
Satisfied for the time being, Phil left the two women and went slowly off to check all was well on the farm, hitching his trousers as he did so.
Lizzie could finally leave the car. She secured her jeans then straightened her coat. When she looked up she found herself confronted by Andrea. She reached her arms up and wrapped them about her taller sister's neck, standing on tiptoe to send the end of her tongue to caress the shining lips before her. Carefully, every speck of seminal fluid was removed, mixing with the soft pleasant lipstick. As the looping arms released her, Andrea commanded her charge to go into the house.
"Get your clothes put away and then we'll have some tea."
Andrea led the way up the wide stone steps to the imposing oak door. As they entered the hall Andrea stepped from her high heels so as not to mark the glowing dark wood floor. She left the shoes carelessly at the foot of the stairs, tossed her waistcoat over the stair-rail, then wandered off to the kitchen.
Lizzie remained near the door, struggling to remove her boots, hopping and wobbling from one leg to the other. When she finally succeeded, she placed them on the nearby doormat, ensuring they were symmetrically aligned and not in the way. She crossed the hallway, undoing the belt and buttons on her raincoat. It slid easily down her arms. Collecting up her sister's shoes and waistcoat, she started up the flight on silent light steps.
She was wearing thick green woollen walking socks, collected in large gathers about her ankles. Her jeans hung baggy and loose about her thin legs until they reached her bottom. Here, they folded into large pleats, pulled in by the tightly cinched belt hidden for the present by the over-sized T-shirt. So large and stretched was the shirt that it hung unevenly from her shoulders, exposing one of the bony constructions. She looked a strange sight lightly stepping her way with her tightly tied
Head scarf still framing her face.
Lizzie turned right at the top of the stairs and headed towards the far bedroom. She opened the door and took a breath of the delicate perfume. It was a light blue room with sunshine streaming in from the large windows. A long dressing table supported an array of brushes, bottles of cream and perfumes. Centrally was a massive four poster bed. Lizzie ran her hand across the pristine black silk sheet, ensuring her touch was so gentle that she did not disturb the perfection. She made her way to the huge mirrored wardrobe filling the far wall. Her reflected, poorly-clothed state greeted her before sliding away to reveal the vast array of fantastic clothes filling the internal space.
Lizzie placed Andrea's shoes carefully in the extensive row on the floor, then took out a coat hanger for her sister's waistcoat. Once hung, she closed the door without lingering to look at all the finery her sister possessed. A pale finger ran along the edge of the dressing table as if testing for dust. It did not delay her exit from the beautiful room.
She crossed the landing to the other end of the house, undoing the knot in her scarf as she went. By the time she had reached the door to her room, she had revealed her fine blonde hair shaped about her head. The door opened to a starkly different atmosphere from that of Andrea's. The window was shaded by thin green curtains, shedding an eerie light on the vast space. The walls were unadorned by pictures or posters as any other teenager's room would be. They were painted a dark, sickly green, adding to the sinister feel. A small old-fashioned wardrobe and a rough kitchen table were the only furniture. On the floor lay a narrow mattress with horrid brown stains patched about it. A single pillow rested at one end with a blanket folded beneath it. One could imagine that this room could be very cold in winter. It would be hard to see how the tiny occupant could survive without a heavy duvet.
Lizzie opened the wardrobe and placed her folded scarf on the shelf at the top. A coat hanger came out to take the raincoat from her. She placed her delicate fingers along the bottom edge of the T-shirt. In one swift movement the stained and dirtied garment leapt from her body on extended arms, hollowing her stomach to almost nothing. Her small breasts filled and wobbled as her arms came back down, nipples standing proudly from the slightest of slopes. As she neatly folded the grubby garment, her nipples became alive to her movements, twitching about as if they were sniffing the cool air. She laid the stained shirt carefully next to the scarf then hopped from leg to leg removing her wrinkled socks. These also took their allotted place on the shelf.
The belt was unbuckled and slid from the loops on her jeans. She formed it into a roll to take its place alongside the other items.
Her jeans hardly needed the undoing of button and zip but she nonetheless opened them. The denims slid from her slim waist, hips, thighs and calves. She stepped daintily out, re-closing the zip before folding them carefully and placing them over the second coat hanger. The door closed on the few items it held.
She turned to leave the room, looking up on her way at the three large rings spaced across the ceiling. Her bare feet almost imperceptibly slapped against the wooden floor, which had seven holes drilled in it; one to each corner and three near the middle, beneath the ceiling rings.
She began to suck at her bottom lip as she gazed at the contents of the kitchen table. Scissors, string, rope, cloth strips and two enormous vibrators lay in ordered fashion. Her long lingering look at the objects went with her through the doorway, only to be cut off when she shut the door, the well-oiled lock softly telling her the room was safely behind her.
She started down the stairs with her light skipping steps. The rear view of her revealed the perfect paleness of her skin. Narrow shoulders followed by the course of her ribs to the tiniest of waists, leading down to the abrupt line of her hips which formed a sharp ridge. Her tight little bottom produced a gentle curve into the back of her thighs, the cheeks drawn in, exposing the full extent of those hip bones. Her thin legs continued down to her tiny ankles and tiny pitter-patter feet. From in front, her blonde hair framed her face. Even her eyebrows were a thin pale line of blonde on white skin. The startling brilliance of her green eyes shone out with youthful life. Even though her face was small and sharp, the slimness of her neck seemed hardly capable of supporting the weight.
The only cover to her rib-cage was those firm, round, slight mounds, the nipples standing pert and proud, her pitter-patter stride ensuring their constant bobbling. Her stomach was drawn in under her ribs, accentuating further the angular nature of her hips.
And there, in stark contrast to the white skin and blonde hair, incredible to behold, like a dark mysterious beacon, a rich carpet of thick black hair. A triangle spreading across her so far that some of the longest strands reached to the very edge of her slim hips. The whole 'V' was a dense black mass, with tendrils tantalisingly caressing and stimulating the sensitive insides of her thighs, despite the wide gap between them.
The black mass gave an erotic dance as she descended the stairs, longing for the touch of searching fingers to find the charms hidden deep inside. The little naked form made her way into the kitchen, breasts springing to the rhythm of her steps. To her surprise no-one was there. Her green eyes lingered on the view of the cellar door. It held her breath inside her. Moments passed before she could move herself on, her gaze settling on the large white vest hung over the rail of the cooking range. She closed on the pure white garment, taking it from its resting place and holding its warmth to her chest.
A sharp metallic sound drew her widening eyes to the opening cellar door. Her mouth fell open.
"What are you creeping around for?" Andrea slammed the cellar door shut, carefully holding a pile of freshly ironed clothes. "Now you've been very good today, so don't let's spoil it."
"I'm not doing anything."
Lizzie's reply was hardly intelligible, the words spoken so rapidly they ran over each other. She stood erect and still as if hoping nothing untoward would happen.
"Get that scrawny body covered up and lay the tea."
Andrea shook out her long black hair as she crossed the kitchen, her fine chain ear-rings swishing across her neck. She turned at the doorway to give Lizzie a final reminder.
"I'll only be next door so mind you do what I say."
Lizzie put on the vest she had been cuddling. It was of little use to her small frame, being one that Phil had donated. It hung down nearly to her knees, the straps sliding from one shoulder and then the other as she busied herself laying the table. She would pull up each in turn but even then her nipples rested at the edge of the neck line. When she carried over the heavy bread board she was unable to stop both straps falling down to her elbows, revealing both sensuous charms in their entirety.
At that moment Phil and Andrea appeared in the doorway.
"Look at this." Andrea shouted across at Lizzie, waving a thin white blouse at her. "It's bloody ruined."
Phil said nothing, his gaze fixed on the trembling tits backing away from the table.
Lizzie reached behind her to take hold of the cooker rail for support. She said nothing. Her knuckles whitened under the intense grip she had on the rail. A bare left foot planted itself on the other, her toes curling to grasp the lower foot.
Andrea, her eyes bulging with rage, waved another garment she was dissatisfied with.
"And this. The stupid cow has ruined this as well. A bloody great scorch mark down the front."
A shirt was waved in front of Phil.
"I don't think the little bitch has even shown an iron at this. You'd think the moron could manage a bit of ironing, for fuck's sake."
Her words hissed from her lips like the steam that should have come from the iron.
Phil looked at the rumpled shirt. "This is no good at all. What's she been doing down there? Playing with herself, I suppose."
Lizzie began to rub one thigh across the other. It was the action you might associate with a child wanting to go to the toilet but who is too engrossed in what is going on to leave the scene. She would have looked like a child but for her erect nipples shoving their way towards the angry Phil.
Phil looked sternly at Andrea. "She'll have to be taught a lesson. She cannot be slovenly.
We know she can iron perfectly well when she concentrates. There's no excuse for this." He turned his enraged look to Lizzie. "I want the punishment to be so severe that she will know the consequences of any more mistakes will be a torture she'll struggle to live through."
As the words were fired at Lizzie, one hand came down to the vest covering her mound. She took a firm grip, pulling it deeply between her thighs. The pubic forest pressed out into the white material, casting an enthralling shadow. Her bottom lip disappeared beneath her white teeth as she began to chew on it.
"Bind her and beat her, hang her upside-down, put her through hell for a full two days." Phil laid down his orders for punishment of the crime.
"You can take that off. I don't want any stains on it that won't come out." Andrea pointed directly at Lizzie who instantly did as she was told. Her skinny frame stretched up, revealing her white bony frame again.
The vest was smoothed down onto the cooker rail. Lizzie stood nakedly erect, her hand playing with the mass of glistening pubic hair. Andrea had opened the cellar door, then taken an old brown working coat from the hook on the back. She slid it on. A finger beckoned to Lizzie.
The little figure followed the hypnotising digit. She skipped past Andrea and round the cellar door.
"Get her bound for now so she knows what to expect, then come and have your tea."
Phil's comment was met with a nod from Andrea before he added a final thought.
"And don't give her any food for those two days. She could do with a bit less weight. In fact, don't feed either of them."

Author Information

a BDSM writer with an exceptionally vivid imagination!


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