The torment of Casey

XXXVIII

Casey trudged across the field, dragging her feet which were shackled and had 25 pound weights attached. Her collar weighed her down as well for it was connected to a 25 pound ball that was also attached to her wrist shackles. Master A followed her, whipping her with abandon as she struggled mightily to walk.

“Please, Master A, I can’t go any further. My back hurts. It’s all too heavy,” Casey begged, sobbing. The hot sun wasn’t making it any better for her.

“Shut up and keep moving,” Master A roared, with two more cracks of the whip, “you filthy cunt. Keep going!”

Casey struggled to move. They had been at this for nearly two hours and she had barely gone two miles. He was only carrying a backpack with supplies. He let her drink some water after an hour.

“You fucking screwed up back there. Now you are going to pay. Stop right here,” he ordered her as they came to a shed after nearly three hours of walking.

“The old rules are gone. New rules,” he said, “and you’ll figure them out as time goes by.”

He removed the weight from her neck and ordered her to stand up straight. He removed one weight from her legs and took the weights into the shed. He emerged with a shovel.

“Six feet by four feet and six feet deep. Dawn to dusk, all day, every day, no stopping except when we say so,” he told her. Just then an ATV pulled up. It was Master B with some boxes and a steel drum. The men unloaded the 55 gallon drum and rolled it over towards a tree.

“Your water is in there. There is a spicket on the side. Here’s a box of special nutrient bars for outdoor labor. Three per day, one month’s supply. A bottle of mouthwash, a plastic bowl and a small towel,” Master B said, “dig yourself a toilet. We’ll be watching you closely. We expect not to return in a month. The hole better be ready by then.

XXXIX

She was nowhere close to being done. The ground being so hard, she had just about managed to cut out the six by four area and had made it about two feet deep in parts, and only a few inches deep in other parts. It was day 29 and she was down to her final four nutrient bars. They were surprisingly substantial. The water drum was getting lighter but there was some left. The plastic bowl rested under the spicket.

Casey’s hands were calloused, so were her feet. Her feet were also caked with dirt and mud. Her whole body was streaked with dirt thanks to the rivers of sweat that poured out of her all day long. It never rained. The sun beat down hard everyday, even though her area was shaded by some trees. The leg weight made movement difficult. She tended to stand in one place a dig for hours before moving to another location.

The chirping of birds woke her up each morning. She slowly rose from the ground. She had chosen a soft grassy spot under a tree to sleep. She had a dug a hole a few feet away for her poop. She peed where she was going to dig to soften up the ground.

She’d start the day with a drink of water, pee and dig for a while. Then, when the sun would start to rise she would take a break and eat a bar. Then she would continue to work, taking a poop break when she needed to. She rinsed with some water but used a wet towel to clean her face, arms and hands at the end of the day. She’d also run it over her pussy. She labored furiously all day, every day. She ate her second bar when the sun was at its highest and the third bar just after sunset. She would slow down and finally stop digging when it got too dark and she was too exhausted to continue. She made sure that she drank enough water along the way and she rinsed with mouthwash at the end of the day.

They showed up on the 30th day. Early in the morning, when she was just rising. She heard, “that’s all?” It was Master A, pointing a flashlight at the incomplete hole. “Thirty days, a good shovel and that’s all you’ve accomplished?”

Casey stood up, “Master A, the ground is so hard. I’ve been trying, I swear. I even pee there to soften the ground but it’s very difficult.” She was trembling, terrified.

“What do we do,” Master A asked Master B, who signaled they should step away and talk.

“We’ll be back,” Master B said as they drove off in the ATV. They returned an hour later. They left another box, “two bars a day, 30 days supply. A bunch of carrots as well.” They took her towel, switched water drums and gave her a fresh bottle of mouthwash. This water drum didn’t have a spicket. They tossed the plastic bowl into it and put the lid on. Finally, for good measure, they secured a second weight to her legs, limiting her movements even more.

XL

Casey was covered from head to toe in dirt and mud. Her hair had grown out and was as good as ruined from the dirt and sun. There was not an inch of skin untouched. Her sweat stuck to her. Her hands were swollen, her fingers grubby and cracked. She was in the hole, all day every day, trying to get down to six feet. Climbing out proved to be an impossible task, given the weights around her ankles. The water drum thankfully had a spicket so she had dragged it close to the hole. She almost never emerged from the ditch. Three months had almost passed. She had made considerable progress once she had broken through a thick layer of gravel. The ground was relatively soft now. But she was still a few feet away from finished.

At the end of yet another grueling day she opened the spicket and filled her bowl. She drank lots of water, splashing some onto her face and wiping it with the back of her hand. She splashed some onto her pussy, rinsing what she could. Finally, she grabbed a bar and ate it and then curled up in the ditch and fell asleep.

“90 days and still incomplete,” said Master A, sounding disappointed.

“I’m getting there,” Casey said in a whisper, looking up at him from four feet below. He took off his belt and jumped into the ditch. “On all fours, whore,” he ordered her and proceeded to whip her until she slumped to the ground, writhing in pain.

“You’ll eat a slice of bread, twice a day, and a gallon of water. We’ll bring it each morning. Nothing else,” he said, climbing out of the hole and walking away. He rolled the water drum away and placed a gallon of water and two slices of bread near the edge of the hole.

Casey struggled to continue each day. She was fast losing her will to work. She ate her daily bread and drank all the water but she was nearing the end of her tether. The hole was almost finished. She had a foot to go in one half and a few inches in the other half.

They cut her down to one slice of bread a day.

On day 135, Casey leveled the final bit of ground, completing the hole. She stared up and knew she couldn’t pull herself out. She lay down on the soft ground and smiled. She had made it. She peed onto the ground below her as she lay on her back, her legs stretched out. She stared up at the sun. She smiled again.

Then someone began to shovel dirt back into the hole.

Casey sat up and screamed, “wait, I’m in here!” She stood up. That was a struggle. The dirt kept coming and coming. “Don’t bury me alive. Please! Let me out!” She tried to pull herself up but her hands kept slipping and the weights around her ankles weren’t helping.

Soon she was buried up to her waist. She couldn’t move as all her hard work was being undone. Mounds of dirt and gravel kept flying in. Casey was buried to her breasts now. Her hands were on the edge, she continued to make futile attempts to pull herself out.

“Help me. Please,” she begged, “I don’t want to die. Not like this. Please,” she sobbed. When the earth reached her neck it stopped coming. A shadow approached. A familiar figure leaned over.

“Well Hello there.” It was the Pastor. He began to compact the earth around her with his foot.

“Please help me out,” Casey screamed.

“Say the magic words,” the Pastor said.

Casey took a deep breath and said, “I love sodomy and so do you!”

“Defiant until the very end,” said the Pastor, getting up ad picking up his shovel, “you’ll be missed Casey. By me. No one else cares.”

More dirt started to fly in. Casey closed her eyes and began to pray. The dirt collected around her. She began to feel light and calm. She took deep breaths as the earth continued to swallow her. It was closing in around her, a small pocket remained where her head was. She could still see light. She was still alive. A bucket was placed over her head. There were two tubes connected to the bucket. One came close to her mouth. On the other end there was a funnel.

The earth finished swallowing her, leaving her in an air pocket, in darkness, unable to move but able to breathe.

Watery grits came gushing down the tube, collecting near her chin. She slurped it up noisily. Sometimes it was just water. She had to gulp quickly to avoid drowning.

The ground between her legs got warm from time to time. Overall the earth was fairly loosely packed so she could wiggle about a bit.

She grew weaker and found herself passing out often, being woken up by the cold grits hitting her in the face.