A year had gone by since my last visit the Circle J. I was happy just being with my slave girl, Charlese, at our home in Connecticut, but my funds were running low and I needed to work. Judy Smyth had been calling me for weeks to help her with the October auction, so here I was again, on the road to the Canadian border and the Circle J farm. My planned stay was extended to two month rather than the two weeks I had set aside last year. Judy told me ahead of time that there was a lot of work to be done.

We were greeted by Sabina, Judy Smyth’s head trainer and taken to the main house where Judy was already having lunch. "I see that you still have Charlese," were the first words out of Judy’s mouth. "You are still beautiful, Charlese."

"Thank you Mistress."

"Perhaps your Mistress will lend you to me during our visit?"

"I will have to think about that, Judy. I haven’t shared her with anyone since the day I got her."

"Have you had lunch yet? Perhaps the two of you would like to join me?"

"I would love to, but I want Charlese to be taken to our room and fed there. We have a lot to discuss that isn’t for a slave girl’s ears."

Lunch went on for three hours. We discussed the range of work I was to accomplish during my stay as well as my taking over completely in November so Judy could get away for a few weeks. I couldn’t refuse the money. It was enough to allow me to spend the rest of the year at home with Charlese, so I agreed under the condition that Judy let me run things my way. Judy knew that beforehand and was happy to agree.

The farm looked the exactly the same each time I visited, but this year there were two new additions. The first addition was in the main house. Judy had built a row of open-grate cells on the second floor just above the staircase. I didn’t know what she was using them for, but they did add a certain look to the place.

The second addition was in the barn in the open area below the cellblocks. Judy had installed a ground level dungeon, complete with a whipping post, wheel, and several stocks. When I took my first spin through, I could see that they were all in use, each one holding a naked slave girl whose head, arms and feet were locked inside so that the slave couldn’t move. I wondered what they did to deserve that.

Judy had also started to train riding ponies and cat fighters. A riding pony is different from the pony girl that is used to pull a cart. She is usually very tall with long legs and a very strong back. She is saddled like a real horse and ridden sometimes for hours without standing up straight.

The cat fighters can be any size since they fight according to weight classes, but they are trained to fight hard since there is usually a lot of money bet on the fights. Catfights occurred at weekend pony racing events and sometimes captured more attention than the race itself. Both riding slaves and cat fighters were trained to be very strong, which imposed special security requirements on the trainer as well as slave owner.

Judy had a dozen cat fighters in the cells. Each girl wore a heavy metal collar, a locked chastity belt with wrist cuff attachments, as well as anklets that had a cross chain running to the waist belt. When freed of the chains during a training session or fight, the slave would still wear the collar, which was electrified and controlled by a remote switch. If a slave turned on her mistress or a trainer, the remote switch could send electric voltage strong enough to subdue the slave.

Cat fighting required a punishment/reward system that was central to the training. If a slave won a big fight she might receive special treatment like having her own bed slave share her cell. It wasn’t unheard of for a real champion to select a girl who could bathe and oil her as well as have sex with, even if she was in tight chains herself.

If a cat fighter was rebellious, or lost fights on a consistent basis, her punishments were severe.

Judy used this punishment/reward system well. She allowed her fighters to pick their own bedmates, something they loved doing. To keep them they would fight extra hard. If they were successful they knew that at the end of the day they would be licked and cared for by soft loving hands. If they weren’t successful, they would have the girl removed from the cell and sleep in a tight slave hood.

Judy ‘s best cat fighter was Ellen who had been a champion track star in high school. Like so many of Judy’s slaves, Ellen was a lesbian who became fascinated with the New York D/s scene. She drifted from relationship to relationship experimenting with her submissive side, moving from one mistress to another until she lost control. At first it was a consensual game, then a move-in with a female Domme, then she allowed herself to be chained at night. She didn’t remember how things went so far, but by nineteen she was living in Virginia with a woman who totally owned her. She didn’t remember how she became Judy Smyth’s property, but she had crossed the line forever when she arrived at the Smyth farm. A few days after her arrival, her breasts were branded with the letter "J" and she was placed in a prison cell. She no longer shared her Mistress’s bed, but was a nameless faceless slave. When Sabina, Judy’s head trainer told her that she was going to be trained to be cat fighter, she didn’t know what that was, but after two years of training and over twenty matches, she had become a killer.

Judy was a small, delicate woman who enjoyed owning cat fighters. She would have Sabina line them up for inspection at noon knowing she wouldn’t be in to look at them until late afternoon. They would stand at attention in full chains for hours waiting for their owner to look them over. Ellen and the other slaves would be tightly belted with six-inch anklets that attached to a ringbolt on the floor. Their hands would be attached to an extension chain that ran off the belt. When Judy arrived, the belts would be removed leaving the slaves free except for the anklets. Judy would go down the line slowly, personally examining each slave. Many of the girls were twice as big and much stronger, but when their mistress ordered them to open their mouths, or spread their cheeks they did so immediately. Judy loved to finger Ellen and make her hold her breasts up. At the slightest hesitation, Judy would crop her breasts.

It was not uncommon for Judy to pick two girls out of the line and order them to fight for her entertainment. The winner would get the girl of her choice for her bedmate; the loser would spend three days in the stocks.

The riding ponies were housed with the other pony girls in the cells off the catwalk. The trainers who prepared these slaves for sale were as small as a professional jockey. The biggest one weighed only ninety pounds. Many Mistresses purchased riding ponies for their daughters. The perfect riding pony would be a woman over six feet tall with long legs, and a large back. They were difficult to find. Two of Judy’s newest trainees were from Africa. They were not at all pretty, but they could carry a girl in a saddle on their back all day long.

It was already late and I was exhausted. I decided to look at the cells in the morning. There was just one inquiry I had to make before calling it a day. "Whatever happened to Penelope who was in the high security cell last year? And what happened to the large Negress, Blue?" Sabina had been expecting the questions. She knew me too well.

"Penelope was a discipline problem from the day of her arrival. She was assigned to the house as kitchen slave, but tried to escape. She got three months of solitary confinement for that, but didn’t learn her lesson. When she went back to the house she injured one of the trainers and went back to isolation for one year. That was the last time I saw her."

Sabina told me I would be surprised, but that was an understatement. "Judy visited the isolation cells a week after you went home to Connecticut. When she entered Penelope’s cell, Penelope impressed her so much that Judy let her out. A month later, Judy took her back inside the house and made her personal toilet slave. I don’t know what happened in the cell, but Penelope has been a model slave ever since.

"What about Blue? Where is she?"

"Blue is still here. You will see her on the row. She is in cell number two. She and Kasha are living together and have become Judy’s best racing team. I think she won a fortune on them in last week’s race."

I went back to the house for a nap. Charlese was still up waiting for me. She didn’t like it when I left her alone, especially at the circle J. She was left completely free of restraints, something I had begun to do lately. I pointed to the bed and we got in together and went to sleep.

I had lots of work to do and didn’t want Charlese restricted to the room for the next two months. I also decided not to train her with the other ponies. I liked her the way she was. Sabina had the solution. Charlese could help in the kitchen where she would learn to cook for us. In the afternoons, when I wanted to nap, she would be returned to my room with enough time to prepare my bath. It sounded like a great idea but I decided to put her in a locked belt so there would be a clear message for everyone not to touch!

Sabina and I returned to the barn early the next morning. The first thing did was release the girls from the stocks. Call it a general amnesty. I didn’t know what they did to warrant punishment, but I had plenty of time to punish them later if they acted badly on my watch.

When I got to the cellblock I noticed that Judy had a completely new group of slaves. Except for Blue and Kasha, I didn’t recognize any of the names on the cell door. The punishment cells were also filled with girls I didn’t know.

Before I had Sabina line up the girls outside their cells I went to Blue’s cell and went inside. Blue was in the best shape of her life. I couldn’t believe it. Her back had no whip marks, her circumcision had healed and there was a certain new look about her I didn’t get at first. I looked at the bunk next to her and was also surprised that the girl inside wasn’t Kasha, but a young white slave who wore a collar that said "property of Blue." As I looked more closely, I could see that Blue’s finger and toenails were polished and her nipples had been rouged. There was a large cosmetics tray near the white girl’s bunk. Blue also looked differently because she wasn’t chained and didn’t have a belt on. There was a small crop on the wall, and it looked like Blue used it to punish her slave. This was a dramatic change!

Sabina explained that Judy changed her strategies for Blue. Punishments didn’t win races. Rewards did. Blue trained on the track for hours a day without an overseer or chains. When Mistress Judy came out to ride, Blue and Kasha helped chain themselves to her chariot and ran like the wind until the ride was over. Blue wanted to please her Mistress and maintain her new privileged lifestyle.

I was also impressed with Blue’s choice of a slave girl. Her name was Faith. She was a small blond with beautiful, perky breasts. Sabina told me that Blue loved to be sucked, even though the circumcision made it more difficult to cum. She would have Faith on all fours licking her.

We went to the security cells next. I was always interested in who had earned long term punishments. The security cells looked like the other cells in the block, but their doors were solid steel. Once inside with the door closed, communication with the outside world ceased to exist.

The first girl in the security cells was one of the cat fighters. Her name was Patricia, age twenty-three. Before opening the cell door, Sabina read me a brief history. Apparently she was a lesbian like Ellen, who had fallen into the wrong hands. Patricia was a tall red head, large boned, with ample breasts. Judy had seen her at a party and slept with her. When Judy invited her for the holidays because she had nowhere else to go, she never knew it would be a one-way ticket. Sabina picked her up at the train and brought her home. A week later she had her breasts marked with the circle "J".

When I opened the cell I was surprised at how beautiful Patricia was in person. Her looks didn’t match the sheet I read and it didn’t make sense that Judy would train her to be a cat fighter. She was tall, but had a gorgeous figure. When I fingered her she wasn’t rebellious. What had she done to Judy to deserve this?

I had an idea in mind. If Patricia agreed, she would leave the security cell with me. The idea was that I wanted to give Charlese her own slave. I wasn’t with her during the day, and thought she would enjoy owning a girl.

"Patricia, I own a personal slave named Charlese. She is South African and the most beautiful woman you will ever see. I want to give her her own slave. If you are interested, you will leave the security cell now. Would you like to serve her?"

"Yes Mistress, I beg to serve her."

I took Patricia into the house and instructed one of the house girls to clean her up. When she was washed and oiled I had her brought back to the barn to look at her. I added some nipple rouge and instructed the slave working on her to use pink polish on her fingers and toes. When she finished, I sat her down and pierced her right nipple, placing a small gold ring in it. I attached the letter "c" on the ring, and then placed her in a long cape, which covered her up completely. I had Charlese brought back to the room where another slave was ordered to wash and oil her. Charlese loved oil baths and being massaged. I had given the slave instructions that she was to be left in a kneeling position by the bed. Her head was to be on the carpet and her eyes were to be blind folded. If she asked questions, she was to be told nothing.

We entered the room as quietly as possible but I know that Charlese could hear us. I approached her and lifted her to her feet and removed the blindfold. "I have a gift for you, my love. Open up the cape."

Charlese was completely naked as she rose to approach the caped slave girl. As the cape fell, both girls looked at each other. Charlese couldn’t believe how beautiful Patricia was. Patricia went to her belly and began to kiss and lick her new owner’s feet. "I am your slave girl."

Charlese was dumbfounded. She picked Patricia off the floor and kissed her. She got on her hands and knees and began to kiss and lick my feet. "I love you mistress. Thank you. Thank you thank you."

"Patricia, go lick your new Mistress. Make her cum in your mouth." I watched until I couldn’t stand it anymore. I snapped my fingers and pointed. Both slaves came to my feet. Charlese took my right foot, Patricia, my left.

I normally do not like to punish slaves. I am not a Judy Smyth. I am not a sadist, but while Judy is gone, I am in charge and can’t allow the slaves to go beyond a certain point. When a trainer comes to me with a severe discipline problem, I have to react even if I don’t want to.

The slaves know the rules. They expect to be punished if they break them. If a cat fighter refuses to fight she knows she will be branded with a hot iron. It is that simple. If she still continues to rebel, the hot iron is used to brand her forehead. If she still doesn’t fight, she is circumcised where the slave’s sheath is deeply cut away making it impossible to have an orgasm.

I hadn’t seen Teresa before, or if I had I hadn’t noticed the brand on her forehead that meant she had already been given two chances. Now a trainer had her in tow for refusing to fight again. Two trainers brought her in. I had the operating table already set-up. The electric collar was needed to get her to the table and strapped in. when I tried to talk to her she almost bit me. I didn’t use any anesthetic. I cut slow and deep, removing all visible signs of her sex. She spit and kicked. I cut off her nipples. "When she has healed, bring her to Jenny. Have her attached to the garden plow. I want three acres a day turned over. Tell Jenny that I will inspect the field every day. If it isn’t done they will stay up all night."

The weeks went by so quickly. Judy had left for a long needed break, leaving me in charge of the biggest event of the fall season, "the Thanksgiving pony run." Mistresses from nine farms as far south as Georgia come to the Circle J for this weekend event. Each Mistress brings a trainer and up to four slaves. There are two major events. One is a cat fighting championship and the other is a ten-mile pony run, winner takes all.

In preparation for the influx of people, the slaves are housed four to a cell. The barn is set up with twenty cots with chain attachments for the overflow. The mistresses and a few of the trainers sleep in the house, but the majority of the guests are housed in the barn.

Guests start arriving on the Thursday before the event. They usually travel in campers that are specially equipped to secure their slaves. The typical camper is a thirty-foot Winnebago. Inside are four to six heavy grate cages covered by upholstery, which hide the contents. A slave is locked inside with a gag on, so she can’t scream out.

As they arrive at the Circle J our staff receives and processes the slaves for the weekend. The cat fighters are housed in one section and the pony runners are placed in another. We try not to mix cat fighters, which is often hard since there is only room for four girls in a cell. If a team of two is scheduled to fight another team, we try to keep them in separate cells.

The first arrival at the matches was June Lee from Virginia. She came with a trainer and four slaves. The two cat fighters were off loaded first. They were both big women in their early twenties. Apparently June used weight training since both girls were muscle bound. I had my trainers take them to their cells before undoing their slave hoods and chains. This was standard security.

Both girls were experienced fighters and knew what was at stake in the competition. The matches went six rounds of hard fighting and scratching. Everything was allowed except biting. If your mistress thought you were holding back, there would be hell to pay, but if a slave brought her mistress victory, she knew her life would be made better. June’s slaves were winners. They each had large living quarters with their own female slave to serve them. As long as they won they would have their mistress’s favor. If they lost, they would be branded, or cut, treated like animals.

The ponies came off after the cat fighters. They were always drop-dead gorgeous at these events. They were brought as much for show as for their racing prowess. June’s ponies were starlet quality. It was no wonder that she insisted that they share her bed in the main house.

By Friday afternoon all the guests had arrived. Friday night is when the slaves are assembled in the barn so that the mistress’s can look them over and place bets. The cat fighters are closely chained to floor bolts, while the ponies have wrist cuffs and anklets, but do not have stationary bolts that prevent them from moving. All are naked and unbelted so they can be touched and probed.

The entertainment for the evening is always a special "Tit Pull" between two of the cat fighters. Five of the mistresses choose two slaves. Each girl has a six-foot chain attached to her tit ring. They are then ankle chained together with another six-foot chain and the bets begin. The mistress of the slave left standing is the winner. These fights are always bloody, resulting in torn nipples, cuts and bruises. The winning slave gets her choice of the female bed slaves for the weekend. The loser is whipped in front of the other slaves before being locked in the lower cage cells for the rest of the weekend. This year’s fight lasted for one hour before the loser gave up. Her mistress was so distressed over the money she lost; she ripped the chain right out of her slave’s nipples.

The pony race is grueling. A two-girl team carries their mistress over a ten-mile course. The ponies are in full leathers, but otherwise naked. Since Judy was away, I had the head trainer ride a cart pulled by Blue and Kisha. They had the home court advantage since they had practiced on the course for weeks. They won by a large lead!

I was exhausted and ready for home when Judy returned. I worked out the money so Patricia left with us. It would be another year before my return, unless I needed money again. Judy was well rested and ready to take over again. I said my goodbyes.

Before leaving I had one more piece of business to take care of. I was feeling guilty over the slave I sent to the plow fields. I went to the place she was working, pushing the plow as hard has her chains would let her. I told Jenny, her overseer, to put in the back of my van. I had decided to take her with me too. Judy would be happy to see her go.