Showered and Shaved

The truck came to a halt, brakes screeching and echoing before the sound of another garage door being closed echoed in whatever space the truck was in. Boots hit concrete as the sound of workers surrounded the trailer.

Suddenly the tarp was pulled off and Amy saw a glimpse of where she was: another garage. A concrete floor expanded for dozens of yards to meet corrugated walls all around her. Fluorescent lights in the ceiling hummed, revealing men in work boots and various work clothing moving around the garage. These men were different from the farm hands though, cleaner looking without the tell-tale tan that betrayed those that worked out in the county. They had neat cropped hair, cargo shorts, and matching polos of forest green. A few women in similar clothing were mixed in with the group, performing similar labor to those of the men.

A farm hand from Happy Acres that she did not recognize moved down the row of cages, unlocking the padlock that kept each cow in her cage before returning to his truck and driving it through another door in the barn before it too was closed again.

One of the men in the polos opened the door to Amy's cage and grabbed the end of her leash.

"Out" he commanded, and Amy shuffled on her knees until she had crawled out of her cage. Straw fell from her as she stood, feeling the coolness of the concrete on her feet. Before long, all five slaves stood in front of their cages, feet firmly planted on the floor, straw stuck all over their bodies from the journey. Each woman was covered in a layer of dust and grime, consequences of their life on the farm. Their leashed were clipped to each other, one in front of another before they were all clipped to the back of Amy's collar. The man that held her leash began walking towards a door set into the wall, pulling the slaves along as he went. Amy followed closely behind.

Through the door, the women stepped into a brightly lit room, covered in white tile. Drains were set in the middle of the floor and the familiar rings which followed the lives of slaves around the island were mounted in the wall. Each woman was detached from the one in front of her and led to a ring where the man wrapped or clipped her leash. Amy had been the first one attached to a ring in the middle of the wall, with slaves added on either side until all had been attached.

"Face the front sows" came a thin, electronic voice from the ceiling. Evidently there were speakers mounted somewhere in this room. Amy turned, and saw more men in rubber boots that went up to their knees, three of them and one woman. Each held a garden hose in their hands as they moved towards the women and turned on their streams. Amy gasped as the cold water hit her square in the chest, knocking the accumulated straw off of her. Her nipples stood on end as the worker moved the hose around her body, wetting her hair, her back, her legs, and her mound of pubic hair before turning to the **** next to her and repeating the process.

The first task completed, each worker returned and put on yellow gloves reminiscent of the kind many people have in their kitchen. They grabbed buckets full of bottles and returned to the slaves, the woman coming to Amy. Her worker squeezed a large glob of shampoo onto Amy's head and worked it into a lather, distributing it across Amy's long red hair. She hadn't had a hair cut in over a year, since before she'd left on spring break. The woman then moved to her pubic hair, washing the mound thoroughly. Finally she took a bar of soap and lathered it up on a sponge which was wrapped around the end of a stick before roughly scrubbing every inch of Amy with no thought to the roughness of the sponge or of her washing technique

Ten minutes later, the slaves had all be sudsed and washed again, and they stood shivering in the cold, sterile light of the fluorescent bulbs that lit the shower room. One by one, the women were roughly toweled dry before being led out of the shower by their handlers, all except Amy.

Amy's female handler returned without her gloves, this time her hands held a razor, shaving cream, and a small mat.

"On your back cow." she ordered in a bored voice. It echoed slightly against the tile of the rooms.

Amy knelt down before lying on her back, the tile felt cold and wet against her still colder and wetter skin. "Legs apart," came another command and she moved her legs apart, baring her sex to her handler. The woman lay the mat down, and knelt on it, bringing the can of shaving cream to just on top of Amy's clit.

Deftly the woman sprayed a heaping glob of shaving cream onto Amy's mound and began working it into the, now clean, clump of fiery hair that decorated her vagina. Working deftly, she began removing the hair in sections with the razor, one of the old fashioned kinds with a single blade. She worked quickly and efficiently, carefully moving around Amy's clitoris, lips, and the bottom of her vagina.

"Breeding position." came the third order, and Amy grabbed her legs behind her knees and pulled them to her closer to her chest. The new position opened more of her up and the woman continued to shave, working her way down the bottom of Amy's vagina, into the space between her anus and her pussy.

Finally, Amy was free of body hair and woman washed her off with the hose before allowing her to stand and towling her off.

Amy's skin was a little raw after the roughness of the brush and the towel and her breeding hole nearly sparkled now that it was clean and shaved. Despite still being cold, Amy reveled in being clean for the first time in months. If felt good to get that layer of dirt off of her slim frame.

The door to the next room was opened and a wave of hot, dry air hit Amy as she walked into the next room, led by the woman who had her leash.