PONY GIRL

BY UNKNOWN

Part 2

In a week, Lena had made over $300. Her act was a big hit. Even
Consuela was impressed. Sunday she went to the house of the woman
named Gina to have her pregnancy aborted. She was terrified.

She was too afraid to ask the woman if women could bear the fetus
of an animal. She felt awkward at the idea of having to explain
about Red Beauty and Black Pride. Other people wouldn't
understand. They would think it weird, strange, and abnormal, for
a young girl to have made love with horses.

Gina was a buxom, middle-aged woman with a red wig. Not your
typical mid- wife. But she was efficient and businesslike, and in
no time she had Lena off the table with the good news that she
was pregnant no longer.

"What was it?" Lena asked, fearfully.

"What?" called Gina from the next room. "You just lie there and
rest for a while. A couple of hours if you need to. Try not to
talk."

"But, I mean, the baby, what was it?"

"It wasn't much, honey. I don't want to upset you, but it wasn't
a healthy normal fetus. It's just as well it didn't come into the
world."

"What do you mean?" called Lena trying to get up. An incredible
pain seared her thighs as she did so, and she immediately lay
back down on the bed.

"Just you rest. I'll be back in a while with something for you to
drink that will help you heal," Gina said, and she went away.

While she lay there, Lena had a lot to think about. What would
she do next, for example. Would she stay here in Iowa City? What
would she do when her money ran out again? Could she possibly go
back home, and take up that existence of swinging between being
raped by her father and making it with his horses?

She wondered if he would ever find out how she had gotten her
revenge on him, right under his nose. She thought for a moment
too about Brad King. She wondered if she'd ever see him again.
Did he ever think about her? She didn't know.

Life certainly was confusing. There was no clear path to follow,
as there was in her mother's day.

Lena thought about her mother, giving birth to all those babies,
and then watching them die, or grow up and leave home. Had her
father gone back to abusing and beating her mother now that Lena
had left home? Had he made any attempt to look for her? She was
surprised every morning when she woke up in Bill's nice big
double bed in the room streaming with sunlight that it hadn't all
disappeared in the night and that she wasn't home again, having
to get up to feed the chickens and pigs, and dread the sound of
her father's footsteps.

She spent a couple of days taking it easy. She bought herself
some clothes with the remaining money she had and took herself
out to a nice restaurant where she resolutely turned down the
offers of admiring men. Her money ran down and she had to go back
to Consuela and the donkey act.

Consuela explained that she was only going to be in town another
week. After that she was moving on south.

Lena's performance was greeted with enthusiasm by the audiences
at the Black Pussycat, as before, and she made some more money??
enough to open a modest bank account with. She felt very proud of
herself.

On the last night of her act, Lena was startled by a familiar
face in the crowd. It was the face of Ret, her older brother. He
was sitting in the front row at a little private table and he had
a woman with him.

She was sure Ret hadn't recognized Lena as his own sister. She
wore a lot of makeup, and Ret thought she was back at home on the
farm after all.

She had a note sent to him, asking him to be sure that he stayed
for a few moments after the act because there was a lady who
wanted to see him.

She watched him receive the note and look around the room for the
silent lady and she saw the lady beside looking annoyed. After
that, Lena didn't notice much else. She had to get it on with
Pepe. Pepe was ornery that night, as donkeys will sometimes be.
She had added a little costume for him to the act. He wore a
straw hat with holes cut out for ears, and a little pair of boxer
shorts and a tie, so that when she called him her husband it drew
more laughs from the crowd.

Tonight Pepe's dick got bigger than it ever had before. Pepe was
growing, or learning or both! Lena thought, as she crawled under
him, being sure to lift the filmy black negligee she wore high so
that it revealed her tits, which were as big as her thighs. She
opened her legs for Pepe. He shoved his cock in her, and this
time it felt as big as Bill's thumb.

The audience gasped. They had never seen a woman make it with an
animal before, most of them. And that a woman would do it
voluntarily, for money, in front of others, was incredible.

"Pepe, I like your dick," Lena crooned, going up and down on it.
"My little husband, why did you come home so late from work
today? Have you been seeing other women?" she asked him
indignantly as she plunged on top of him, and the donkey brayed,
and the audience laughed. After the donkey came, his white donkey
semen dripping on the floor beneath her, to the audience's
additional gasps, Lena went backstage for a moment to clean
herself. Then she came out again and went down into the pit to
collect her tips.

Often the men would like to put the bills on the corner of a
table and make her pick up the money between her legs with her
thighs. She thought this was very silly, but they insisted so she
did it.

She still wore the costume from her act: the black nightie that
came to her navel, the black see-through briefs with the slit at
the cunt, and black high pumps. She had forgotten about the
presence of her brother and was feeling good tonight A black man
put out a bill on the corner of his table. She couldn't tell
whose picture was on the bill, but the man was very good-looking
and very well dressed. He looked quite wealthy and he had a very
fancy dame sitting beside him, so Lena went all out.

Each time she approached the table with her open thighs, to catch
the money, he moved the money farther back. Each time he moved it
back, everyone laughed.

Finally, Lena put one foot high on their table. Her black
stockinged leg caused quite a sensation, as did the slit of the
panties she wore. With her leg lifted, all could see quite
clearly, and from close up, the pink slit of her own, that lay
between the black slit of the panties. Someone put a coin in the
jukebox, and slow sexy music began. Lena began to gyrate, with
her leg raised, in time to the music. It would be good for tips,
she figured.

The black man let her have the bill??it turned out to be a
$100.00, and she moved on to the other tables. Many of the men
wanted to reach out and touch her pussy with their fingers??just
touch it, and she let them. The little timid fingers reaching out
to her just vaguely tickled the outside of her cunt, and she had
to part her labia with her own fingers, and dip her own fingers
in her honeypot and make her own clit and labia painful with
desire and lust, in order to give the men the kind of sight they
wanted to see: a cunt that was wet and inviting, as if it were
just waiting to be penetrated by one of their dicks, many of
which we're hard under the tables of the little joint. Finally to
a last drumbeat, and a last bump and grind, Lena hurried to the
dressing room in back to change and make her appointment with her
brother. She hoped he was still waiting.

He was. She walked up to his table and said, "Excuse me, I am the
lady who sent you that note. May I join you?"

The woman sitting next to Ret gave a cold look but Ret said,
"Please do."

"You don't know who I am," Lena said.

"No," he gave a quizzical look at the woman.

"I'm your sister, Lena." she said. Ret almost fell off his chair
backwards.

"Good God," he said. "It is Lena."

She still had on her makeup from the act, but she was wearing
street clothes now. Still, the last time he had seen her was when
she was seven and still a little girl. Now, at almost thirteen,
she had changed much, she guessed.

"This is my wife, Carol," Ret introduced the two women. Carol was
very silent and not too friendly.

"Where are you staying? What are you doing in Iowa City?" Ret
asked.

Lena said "Let's go somewhere else where we can talk."

They went back to Ret and Carol's place. Ret and Carol lived in a
trailer in a park outside of town. They had a Ford station wagon.

Inside the trailer they offered Lena a drink. She accepted and
then sat down happily. She felt at home. She started to ask Ret
and Carol how long they had been married and what they did for a
living and how they liked Iowa City and how long they had been
there, and had they heard from their parents lately?

But Ret and Carol plied her with questions without answering any
of the ones directed at them. Lena, under the influence of the
drinks, spoke quite freely with them. She even cried a few times
in recounting her story of the last year.

"Ret, you know how father always abused Mother? How we would
often hear her screaming in the middle of the night? I know you
remember because I know that's partly what drove you away when
you were fifteen. That, and there being no future on that farm.
Well, I'm only thirteen myself but I had to get out too. On my
own."

"Ret, Daddy, well, he came to me as if I were a woman he met in
one of his places. You understand what I'm saying? He raped me.
Many times. He was making it a way of life. I had to get out. So
I came here. They don't know where I am, and I don't know what
I'm going to do, but all I know is, it's so good to have found
you brother, and you too, Carol. Now I feel as if I have a real
family.

They put Lena to bed in the living room for that night. Ret and
Carol retired to their own end of the trailer.

They stayed up late talking. Mr. Hanson had put up a reward for
Lena's return and they knew of it. He was offering $700 for any
information leading to the return of his daughter. Ret and Carol
needed some money?? badly.

In the years since Ret had left home, he had done many different
things to make a buck, but mostly he had drifted. He'd been a
used car salesman, a door-to-door brush salesman, he'd sold
encyclopedias and drugs. He'd even made his way for a while on
the strength of his poker game, and he'd let one or two girls
support him with what lay between their legs.

He'd been with Carol now for about a year. They were pretty
tight. Carol was a lot older than she looked. She was 45, and her
red hair was a wig. She wore lots of makeup and had a petite
figure, so that people often did not realize her age while she
sat beside the youthful Ret.

Ret liked Carol. Perhaps he found in her the mother he'd never
had in his own mother. Mara Hanson had been no less able to
defend or protect her son from her husband than she had been able
to protect Lena. And Roland Hanson had not been easy on his son
either. He had worked him hard, giving him no money, and often
let him feel the lash of his riding crop or the rock of his
fists.

Unfortunately, Ret had not become a kind, understanding,
compassionate person after all his suffering. He had instead his
father's brute-like nature.

Unlike his father forced into by circumstances. At least that was
how he looked at it now. He did not like to have to plot, as he
did in bed now with Carol, against his own baby sister. But he
needed money.

In the morning, Carol made them all breakfast: powdered scrambled
eggs and instant coffee and grits. It was in the morning that
Lena realized Carol was not as young as Lena had originally
thought. She saw that Carol's red hair was a wig. She saw the
lines beneath Carol's thick make-up. But the couple was very
friendly to her and insisted that she go back into town and get
all her things and come and stay with them.

Ret drove her to Bill's house where she picked up her clothes. He
took her out to lunch at a nice place where she had beer and
wiener schnitzel. They went back to the trailer where Carol was
waiting for them. Carol had gone out that day and bought some
rope.

Ret had to run into his bedroom in the back where he broke down
crying. Carol had followed him in. She held him in her arms and
spoke to him lovingly.

"Honey, I know she's your sister, but it's dog eat dog in this
world, and it's either us or her. You know how we could use those
seven hundred smackers baby," she said.

"I know," he sobbed into her tits.

"We could take that little trip out west we been talking about
for so long. To the Yellowstone Park. You know how much I want to
see that geyser I been hearing about all my life since I was a
little girl. And the Grand Canyon? And you could meet up with
that big poker game that happens in September. Honey, it could
mean our whole future," she dried his eyes.

They plied Lena with liquor and talk that night, and she fell
asleep intoxicated on the couch again. When she woke up in the
morning she was tied and bound to the sofa.

"What? What's going on here?" she immediately began to yell.

Ret and Carol awoke to her screams. It was only seven o'clock in
the morning.

"Oh jiminy, the kid's screaming," said Carol.

"Honey, what are we going to do? I can't go out there and look
her in the face," said Ret.

"I'll take care of it," said Carol. She slipped a torn bathrobe
over her body, covering up her sagging breasts, and went out into
the living room. She surveyed the pathetic creature on the couch.

Lena was beautiful, as beautiful as Carol had once been, many
years before. Lena's lips were a rosy red as she awoke in
confusion, and the passion of her fear flushed her cheeks. Her
body spoke for itself, all curves and young firm flesh as she
twisted in her bonds. Carol had tied her well the night before,
securing her hands behind her back and tying her feet together,
and then tying the whole to one of the legs of the couch.

She gave Lena a glass of water to quench her thirst, and said,
"Honey, the stiller you lie, the better it will be for you. Now
we're only doing what's best for you. You know your brother would
never harm you. Just trust his judgment."

But as Lena continued to squirm and holler, Carol was forced to
gag her with a dishtowel from the sink. Then she went back to
Ret's bed.

They left her tied up that day. She was hungry and thirsty and
she couldn't even get to the bathroom. She was sobbing the whole
time beneath her gag at her brother's treachery. She didn't even
know what he intended to do with her, not knowing about the
reward her father had offered for her which Ret intended to
collect.

The only company she had all day was Carol's Irish setter. It was
a beautiful dog and though Carol had instructed it to make sure
Lena didn't escape, the dog was very sympathetic toward Lena. He
came over and put his head on her breasts and looked up into her
miserable eyes with his big, wordless dog eyes. He had a
beautiful red coat which Carol brushed every day. His red hair
reminded Lena of Red Beauty and she was at once comforted by the
memory, and terrified. Something told her this bondage was
leading back to her life on the farm.

When Ret and Carol returned that night they conferred in their
bedroom. Ret told Carol he had answered the ad in the paper that
offered the reward, but he had not been able to speak directly to
his father that day. Mr. Hanson was apparently out of town
following up another lead on his daughter.

"Well, what do we do with her in the meantime, until we get in
touch with your old man?" Carol asked.

"Honey, I guess we just have to keep her here for a while," Ret
said miserably.

They returned to the living room, where Buster, the dog was sadly
licking Lena's face which was wet with tears.

They untied the gag for a while.

Ret explained the situation: "Poor kid," he said to her. Even
untying her hands and holding one of them. "You're sick," he told
her. "I tried to contact Dad to let him know where you are. You
need to go home. You're too young to be out on your own yet. You
need to find a man to support you and help you. I don't like to
think of my very own sister doing ...what you were doing that
night we found each other at the Black Pussycat."

"If you hate to see that sort of thing so much, what the hell
were you doing there yourself." Lena asked viciously, grabbing
her hand away Pfrom him. She hadn't related that part of the
story to him about her and the horses, nor had she told him of
the deformed fetus of her abortion, or of her abortion.

"Some women have to do those things," Carol interjected. "But
they're bad women. Not nice girls like you. We were only there to
see some of your brother's business contacts."

"What's his business, prostitution?" sneered Lena.

Ret and Carol exchanged a glance.

Carol said, "She's too young to, understand. Someday she'll thank
us for rescuing her from a life like this, and for returning her
home."

"I will not, you hypocritical ... I don't know what the two of
you get out of this, but I'll never forgive you, never!"

"Tie the gag on her again," said Ret getting up from the couch
and looking away. Carol neatly replaced the gag.

Before they left the house again the next day, Lena begged to be
allowed to speak again.

"Well?" said Carol after the gag was off.

"When you inhuman robots leave me here like this, I can't even
get to the bathroom!" protested Lena. "I'll wet all over your
couch."

"Hmm, that's true," pondered Carol.

"What can we do?" asked Ret.

"Tie her up in the bathroom," said Carol simply.

This they did. They simply moved her place of bondage from the
couch in the living room to the little bathroom where they tied
her by the neck to the sink. Carol had the additional bright idea
of leaving Lena in her black panties with the slit from her act.

"You can go anytime you want now, honey," she laughed to see the
voluptuous girl, in her sexy black briefs, bound hand and foot,
gagged, and tied to the sink. They closed the bathroom door and
left the house.

The day passed slowly. Lena could hear Buster, the Irish setter,
whimpering just outside the door and she whimpered back in
answer.

Buster kept pushing at the door. Trailers are made out of plywood
and cardboard, at least Ret's and Carol's was, and though they
had locked the bathroom door, Buster soon had pushed it open.

It was a great comfort to have some living creature who was
sympathetic to her. Lena sat on the tiled floor, miserable, and
Buster came in and put his head between her knees. She couldn't
pet him so instead she rubbed her legs against him. His coat was
shining clean and his eyes were clear and intelligent looking.

"Buster, Buster," Lena crooned.

Buster licked her bare legs. The dog nosed her crotch. Dogs,
unlike most people, do not have the sexual compunctions, taboos
and niceties that humans have, and since Lena was tied up and
couldn't push his head away, he nosed freely at her crotch, able
for once to get his fill of the smell of the human female sex.

Lena kept rubbing against his flanks with her thighs and the dog
lay down between her legs. His tongue was long and thick, much
bigger of course than a human tongue.

Lena's sex was catching on fire as she lay there with the living
creature between her legs. She thought of Bill, and his cozy
furnished room. She wished she had never accepted her brother's
supposed offer of hospitality. She had been so happy at Bill's.
She wondered when he would return, if she would still be here, or
already back on her father's farm. She had left Bill a note, with
the address of her brother's trailer on it. She dreamed of a
gallant rescue, but knew that only happens in books.

She thought of Brad King, and of that glorious night when he had
found her riding Red Beauty, and of how he hadn't been shocked or
ashamed or disgusted by her, but had wanted her for his own. He
had loved her, yes, truly loved her that night. She wondered if
he thought of her at all anymore. He probably went out with so
many other girls that she had become only a vague memory.

She felt so sorry for herself, sitting locked in this john in a
deserted trailer. Her legs ached and she stretched them. The slit
of her bikini pants opened. The dog put his cold nose up to the
pink flesh revealed by the slit.

"Oh, yes," Lena sighed.

Buster sniffed and licked her.

It was quite an unusual sensation. The dog's tongue was rough and
bumpy and he was able to lick her in a way she had never been
licked before. His tongue was able to cover the whole outside
surface of her cunt with each lick. But best of all was when he
stuck his nose into the place between her legs and it sunk in.

Then she groaned and shifted uneasily on the floor.

She looked down into his dog eyes. Did he know what he was doing?

Buster flopped over on the floor so that he was lying on his
side. Lying on the floor also, Lena noticed, was his dick, red
and long like a sticky finger.

Lena laughed to think that she might even find a way to get some
loving here, in this ridiculous predicament of bondage that her
brother had forced her into.

The dog growled and licked her again and again.

Her labia filled with the liquid of desire, and became red and
taut. Underneath, in the inner cave, unseen, her clit too was
excited and standing up straight. Sometimes the dog's tongue went
in and brushed against her clit. It was so frustrating: she
couldn't use her hands to direct his licks or open her legs wider
to allow him greater entry Her ankles strained to loosen the
bonds so that she could open her legs more, and she shifted her
hips a little so he might slip his tongue into her sideways and
touch the good part.

The dog nosed aside the lace panty's edge and loosened her up
with his dog's saliva. He had crawled on top of one of her legs
now and was trying to hump her knee.

She laughed with sadness. "Buster, Buster," she crooned under the
dishtowel.

She wondered if the dog would be able to actually mount her, and
how she could aid him, and indicate to him to try.

Well determination always finds a way.

Buster was whining violently now, and his cock was larger. He was
inching up along her leg, and licking at her breasts now, and her
stomach She slid down a bit on the floor.

He lay against her chest while she rubbed her head against his
head, and his penis slid into the black slit of the panties, and
the pink slit of her cunt.

The dog was growling and making all kinds of convulsive sounds.
Lena let him make all the movements. Convulsively he slid his wet
stick in and out of her human pussy.

She felt a small dipstick being inserted into her. It tickled the
first two inches of her cunt. The bottom of her cunt was aching
to be pressed and filled and made wet. But the dog couldn't help
her out.

Instead, the frankfurter like member slid resolutely up and down
on her clitoris and in between her labia, while the dog whined.

Oh, indeed, it did feel good, after all, Lena realized,
stretching her knees on the bathroom floor.

The dog's lower half moved furiously on top of her loins and she
felt the little dipstick slicking her cunthole's opening, hitting
all the crucial spots with his erect dogcock.

The dog had an incredibly good time, and could carry on like this
for hours. The day passed with Buster mounting Lena, after first
eating her out. He would lie with his large head at her cunt and
lick and lick and lick her. His tongue didn't have the muscles or
intelligence to explore inside her, so when she was worked to a
frenzy by his licking of the rim of her pussy, he could climb up
her body until his slick dipstick was at her hole, and he would
jab it into her, making her come by the simple speeding motion of
his cock at her clit.

The room became filled with the smell of sex, of human pussy
satisfied, and of dogcock brought to fulfillment.

The dog would disappear for a few hours too, to get some water or
lie down, but he would always return to see how she was and if
she wanted more. She always did.

Ret returned that night alone. He said Carol had some business to
do and would return later. He didn't say what her business was,
but Carol was walking the streets looking for a few bucks. She
always got picked up. For 45 she really looked alright.

When Ret opened the door of the bathroom to look in on his
sister, he was hit by a peculiar smell.

"It stinks in here," he said. "Couldn't even make it to the can,"
he muttered picking her up, untying her from around the sink and
placing her in the bathtub.

Lena started to try to hit out at him with her knees and body, so
he tied her to the towel rack over the tub. He only wanted to
give her a shower. She kept trying to lash out at him. He pulled
her tee-shirt off over her head and found himself staring at
breasts like white melons. Her nipples were hard like buttons,
and the brown radius around the nipples were like big cocoa
stains. Her navel was like a thumbprint in an otherwise flawless
sculpture. Her belly sloped gently down into her black briefs.
There was a blonde trail of downy hair leading down her belly
into her briefs too.

She was holding her thighs tightly together so the two sides of
the slit in panties came together and modestly covered what lay
beneath.

With her hands tied together and tied over her head to the towel
rack she was pretty much helpless however.

"I just wanted to give you a shower little sister," Ret licked
his lips.

He turned the water on and began to strip himself.

Ret was twenty-five and burly like his father. He was more
well-hung than his father, Lena noticed through the water coming
down in sheets over her face. Ret's cock was big and hard. His
legs were hairy. His wild hair on top of his head matched the
wild bush that grew around the tower of power coming at her at
crotch level.

"No! No!" she tried to scream. She could hear Buster whimpering
outside the locked door.

Ret looked at the beauty before him. The water streamed down over
her lovely neck, straining with fear, and down over her tits,
swelling and shaking. The drops hung suspended on the tips of her
boobs and then fell, onto her smooth white stomach, or into the
pearly hairs clinging to her briefs, or down onto her small feet.

He tore her briefs off her to watch the water find paths through
her pussy hair and down her legs.

He backed her against the wall by laying his hands on her lovely
melons and by putting his groin against her belly. Her hands
strained to break loose over her head. The water was pouring down
on him too, as he forced her legs apart with his knees. His cock
found her pussy, and it found it big, soft and sweet. She was all
loose and open to him, as if she had been making love all day.
His cock just nudged the entrance to her cunt and suddenly he was
all the way inside, stuffing her cave with his erect poker.

He powered his heavy cock up her cunt and felt her lovely tits
all along. Her flesh was so soft and yielding, though she
continued to fidget and strain, forcing him to take her out of
the shower and tie her onto a chair, with her legs tied wide
apart.

Now he could get at her the way he wanted to.

Her pussy lay open before him, its blond hair glinting with
water. The red meat throbbed with terror before his cock which he
swung in the air over her.

He lowered himself and taking her tits in his hands and squeezing
them fully, he rammed his cock way up into her pussy and her tied
legs could not close to resist him.

Again and again he stuffed it into her. Her flesh was so young
and sweet and firm, not like Carol's old tired flesh. Lena
writhed, naked, her hips and waist turning and twisting to get
away from this onslaught, but still Ret's cock found its way home
deep up inside of her and her flesh responded while her mind
refused to. Pussy muscles gripped the pole of male flesh poking
into her, and the pole pounded harder and harder while the pussy
muscles gripped. He blasted his white stuff into her cockpit. He
pulled his dipstick out and there was a flood of come on the
chair where she sat bound. He liked to look at this sight and
stepped away to observe, from the couch where he sat with his
drink, his voluptuous baby sister, going on thirteen, with her
legs tied apart, unwillingly revealing the charming sight of her
pussymeat to him, all smeared with his come.

******

Carol and Ret were smiling the next morning when they came out
into the living room where Ret had again tied up Lena for the
night. Carol had made fifty bucks the night before, for two jobs.
And Ret had contacted Lena's father. He was coming to pick her up
tomorrow. He was coming to bring them the $700 tomorrow.
Everything was looking up for Ret and Carol.

Lena trembled in fear all of that day. Ret and Carol hung around
the house, drinking and watching TV.

All day Ret stole sly glances at his sister. He couldn't approach
her with his old lady there. Carol would be insanely jealous.

All day too, Buster kept trying to stick his head up between
Lena's legs. That made Carol jealous too, and she kept calling to
him, "Buster, Buster, get away from her. Why can you imagine,"
Carol continued talking to Ret now as if Lena weren't even there,
"what kind of girl would make it with an animal? I mean, a
donkey? Shoot, you gotta be desperate to do that sister. Now take
me, for instance, I do it with men for money. I don't like to do
it honey, but I do it for the money, and for you," she nuzzled
Ret's lips. She was sitting on his lap at one end of the couch
while Lena sat tied down at the other end watching them.

"I do declare, though, I'll sure be glad to have that blue pair
of eyes out of my house. I wish she'd quit staring at me, like
that, honey. Make her quit staring." Ret was staring at Lena
himself, and in his drunken buzz, he didn't hear most of Carol's
complaints. He was licking his dry lips with a dry tongue and
looking down at the crotch of Lena's jeans.

"Honey!" Carol hit him over the head. "I said I want to have a
little fun around here. We should be celebrating. We've struck it
rich. We're going out west. Honey, let's have us a little party.
Let's call up some people??Ray and George, and maybe Sylvia could
come over, and help us celebrate."

"Why not?" said Ret lazily tipping his drink. Carol got up to hit
the phone and call up her friends. The phone was in the bedroom.

Ret went over to his sister, stood over her, and just let his
hand dangle over her crotch. He lifted her shirt and caressed her
watermelon tits lavishly, until the titties were hot and excited.
Then he pulled her shirt back down over her chest and walked
away. Carol came back out from the bedroom gaily.

"They're all coming over. We'll have us a party. Honey, get out
the liquor. I'll see if I can hunt us up some crackers and cheez
whizzes or something."

Sylvia and George and Ray arrived altogether in the front cab of
Ray's pickup. It was amazing to think they had all managed to fit
into the cab together because George's enormous bulk??he must
have weighed three hundred pounds??was equaled and surpassed by
Sylvia's huge form.

Sylvia was a truck driver and she must have weighed 350. She was
all rolls of flesh. Every movement she made more rolls of fat
tumble over each other, and when she laughed, which she did
often, and joyously, the flesh fell into chaos, trembling and
shaking all over. Her laughter caused her breasts to avalanche
down her belly, which avalanched down over her thighs. Her legs
looked like huge muttonchops, with the kind of crevices in them
that are caused by excessive weight.

Sylvia's laughter also made everyone else laugh, and soon
everyone, except Lena was jolly.

Carol introduced Lena to the gang.

"This is Lena, Rettie's baby sister. She was a bad girl and ran
away from home, she's only??what are you??sixteen, honey? We
called her Daddy and he's coming to get her tomorrow."

"Well, I don't know if I'm going to be able to party with a
little sixteen year old watching on," drawled George. He had
three chins, which tumbled on top of each other as he raised his
head and his glass. "I mean, I don't want to be corrupting the
morals of no minor or nothing, if you know what I mean," he
winked at Carol, who had put on a gold lame dress for the
occasion. The tight dress pushed her boobs up and together and
cinched in at her waist. She wore lots of makeup, bright red on
her cheeks and flaming green at her eyes.

Carol giggled, holding a highball with her pinky raised. She
loved being a hostess. "You don't have to worry about corrupting
the morals of this minor. I told you she was a bad girl. Why
she's Pone things you wouldn't think of doing George Limpson."

"Oh yeah? Like what?" George bellowed with laughter.

"Yeah, like what?" asked Sylvia with interest.

"You know that act that was playing down to the Black Pussy? That
act with the donkey from Tequila, Mexico?" Carol's voice had
lowered confidentially.

Lena sat uncomfortably on the couch. Ret and Carol had agreed to
untie her and ungag her for the party and they both had said they
trusted her not to run away. If she did run away, Ret had
explained, with his fist in her face, she would regret it. His
fist was the size of her father's and she had looked at it with
quiet dismay.

"She was the girl!" said Carol pointing triumphantly at Lena.

Everyone looked at her and gaped with awe. "With a donkey!"
Sylvia started screaming with laughter, which set off George.
Carol was cackling in her phony high lady-like laugh which soon
turned to burps. Ray, a thin, quiet man with thin lips pressed
tightly together, smiled too. George and Ray owned and operated
?eorge and Ray's Truck Stop." Tonight was their night off.

"She looks so innocent like," said Ray quietly and that started
everyone off again, hooting with laughter.

"With a donkey," Sylvia kept shaking her head and her eyes got a
faraway look as if she were trying to imagine it.

"Wish we had that donkey here now so she could give us a private
performance," said George.

Lena said nothing.

Ret was watching her closely, licking his lips. He watched her
tits heaving as she breathed heavily with humiliation. He wanted
her tits in his mouth and her cunt around his dick so bad.

He said, "I don't think my sister should have to listen to talk
like this. Maybe she made a few mistakes in life, but we all
have, right? I want to talk to her in the bedroom," he said. And
he got up and led her away.

"I think I better go and talk to her too," said George. "I like
to talk to young folk. Set them straight about what life is all
about."

"Now don't you fellas muss up my boo-doire," said Carol blithely.
She was smiling at Ray. She had always had the hots for him.

Someone turned the music on somewhere, and the night became heavy
and foggy. Couples fell on top of each other in chairs in the
living room or in the bedroom, and got up off of each other and
found an embrace somewhere else. Bottles lay strewn all over the
trailer, and wherever you were, you could reach out and pour
yourself some more of something.

Carol kneeled between Ray's legs and unzipped the top part of her
gown so that her flabby breasts hung out. She pressed them
against Ray's crotch and began undoing his zipper. Ray watched as
if uninterested.

She pulled out his dick but it was soft and drooping. She let it
roll about against her breasts, but still it didn't get hard.
Carol looked up at him from under her long fake eyelashes, and
then slipped his dick inside her mouth. It felt soft and small
like a worm.

She bit it. She felt it harden a little bit as if an underground
current were picking up. Ray lay back against the chair and
sighed and closed his eyes.

"Suck me off, honey, suck me off," he whispered, holding her head
on his dick with his hands when she tried to come off him.

She pressed down on his now hardening dick with her mouth. Her
lips pressed back the foreskin and the head of his cock emerged,
shining and hard. She felt for his balls, still in his pants, and
gently eased them out so she could play with him while she
brought him off.

Sylvia sat on the couch across from them watching as she sipped
her drink. She watched her friend Carol's head bob up and down on
top of Ray's torch, and she watched the pink flesh of Ray's stick
appear and disappear into Carol's mouth. His cock was smeared now
with Carol's red lipstick, and the lipstick on Carol's face was
no longer on her lips but all around her mouth as she furiously
tried to please him.

"Harder. Faster. Up and down right here," Ray showed her the vein
to follow leading from the tip of the cock to about half way down
the underside.

She followed this line, licking with her hard, flattened tongue,
then just rubbing with her lips pressed together, and with a
little bit of her tongue sticking out.

The smell of his cock turned her on. She had an appetite for cock
tonight and gladly she allowed the shape and feel of his cock to
fill her mouth and she hung on to the organ with pressing lips.
She licked it and squeezed it, and thanked him for allowing her
to eat him. She didn't want him to come until she'd eaten as much
cock as she wanted.

But she couldn't hold him back anymore. He gripped the sides of
the chair and threw his head back and closed his eyes. His
fingers stretched as he felt the softness of the walls of her
mouth squeeze with an iron-like hold and her fingers squeezed at
the base as if she were squeezing candy up a stick. The come came
bursting out of him like champagne out of a bottle that's popped
its top. She almost lost his dick as his stuff started flying.
But she popped his cock into her mouth at just the fight moment,
and not a drop was lost. She sucked and sucked the cock,
squeezing it with her hands at the same time. She must have
swallowed two cupfuls.

"Did I come a lot?" asked Ray smiling from behind his thin lips.

"Mmmmmm, baby did you ever," Carol licked her lips.

She climbed on top of him now and he slipped his hands inside her
dress to fondle her tits.

Sylvia sighed on the couch and got up and headed for the bedroom.
"Disgusting," she said. "Why a woman would ever want to suck a
man's dick I'll never know."

In the bedroom the action was hot.

George and Ret had quickly stripped Lena down to her essentials:
her black briefs. George had recognized the panties from the act
immediately. "That's them! I remember! With the red ribbon in the
cunt hole like that!"

Lena was resisting however, and starting to shout so Ret showed
George how he gagged her and tied her hands, so she couldn't
punch them.

"Can I have her?" George asked with a shy grin on his huge face.
He was practically drooling.

George hadn't been near a young female body in so many years. Not
a body like this one, out of a sex magazine. The smoothness of
her curves, the shape of her knockers, the curve of her waist and
the slope of her belly into her mound??he wanted to dig his
fingers into this delectable dish. He pushed her back across the
bed. Ret sat down on one of her legs and smoked a cigarette.
George more than pinned her other leg by pressing one knee down
on top of it. George was unbuckling his pants so fast, and trying
to shake them down over his flab that Ret had to laugh.

"Go slow, brother," Ret said. "You got all the time in the world,
or at least in the night. She isn't going anywhere."

George was chuckling and heaving and panting. "You know, she's
still your own sister. You sure you don't mind?" he asked.

"Fuck her. She needs to be taught a lesson," said Ret.

George first sank his huge fingers into her cunt. He stuffed his
whole hand up her, while her hands lay tied above her head. He
just couldn't get enough of this pussy and he stuck his face into
her cunt, ripping apart the slit of the black briefs. He just
slobbered right into her, all over her, coming up for air, and to
lick his lips and to breathe in deeply the stink of her pussy.

?od, I love that pussy smell," he said. He looked up at her tits,
fallen now on either side of her body. He jumped up on top of
her, pinning her by the stomach, to luxuriate his hands in her
soft mounds of flesh. Then his head dove again back to her muff,
where he sunk his hands and tongue and nose and whole face in
her. He was rooting in her pussymeat like a fat pig rolling in
swill.

His whole huge body was stretched across her while his face was
sunk between her legs, and his enormous cock was stabbing at her
neck, into her tits, into her eyes and face until finally it
found the hole of her mouth where it squashed its way in.

He was sliding gooey fingers into her cunt and stuffing his
tongue into her as if she were a Thanksgiving turkey, and
whopping his whopper into her mouth by raising and lowering his
ass over her head. She was being squashed and suffocated beneath
him, and finally, to survive, all her apertures just simply
opened their widest??her mouth yawning hugely to hold his dick
which must have had a width of two or three inches. Her cunt too
was just flapping wet wide open beneath his greedy fingers. Then
in addition to all the discomfort, she was deluged with the flood
of his come. His semen poured all over her head and face and then
stabbed one last time down into her throat where he deposited the
greater part of his manly liquid, while she hastily gulped it
down.

The bed was sopping wet when George got up.

Lena was whimpering and coughing.

Sylvia, who had been watching, shook her head in disgust and
said, "Well, I do declare. Either they find some woman fool
enough to want to do it voluntarily, or they strap some poor girl
down and make her take it in her mouth." She spat on the floor.

"Syl, take her into the john and clean her up," said Ret,
smiling. He knew Sylvia's taste.

Sylvia said, ?oor baby, come with me." And she helped Lena to
stand and led her into the john.

George and Ret wandered back into the living room to find Carol
in Ray's arms.

"Oh hi, honey," Carol said jumping up. "Ray and I were just
necking a little. I think he's so cute, don't you?"

This made George laugh until his fat looked like it would jiggle
right off. He spent the better part of every day and night
flipping eggs and greasy fat right next to Ray and he didn't
think he was cute at all.

Carol decided to entertain the company with some exotic dancing
and she found her favorite record.

The men sat to watch her as she danced around the room, slowly
unzipping the front of her dress, revealing more and more.
Finally the whole dress came off. She was wearing panties like
those Lena had worn, with no crotch. But Carol had been a
professional exotic dancer for many years. She knew how to turn
men on with a dance.

She rolled on the floor, lifting one leg then another, while the
dusky male voice on the record whispered what it would like to do
to her, and the men in the room rubbed their hard cocks under
their pants.

She raised one leg, revealing her cunt. She was blessed with a
very wide organ. Her clit popped right out and she ran a cool
finger over it for just one second, just enough to make the men
groan. Then she flipped over on her hands and knees and spread
her stuff.

She walked over to the pole that supported the living room and
raised one leg and pretended to masturbate her cunt along the
pole.

"Oh, baby, go to it," George cried out.

Ret licked his lips.

Some time after this, when the record was over, and Carol was
nesting in Ret's arms while he soothed her flaming cunt with his
fingers while George looked on fondly, they remembered Sylvia.

"What the fuck is she doing in there with that girl?" said George
lasciviously.

"Oh, who cares about that kid? Honey, do me. Don't stop," pleaded
Carol on Ret's lap.

But Ret stood up, dumping her on the floor at the same time, and
George sprang up, if that monstrous tub of lard could be said to
spring.

Moans and groans were coming from the bathroom and they pounded
on the door. Finally they forced it open.

The men hooted and howled at the sight they saw.

Sylvia lay naked on her back on the floor and she gripped the
naked Lena tightly on top of her body. Lena's ass Sylvia kept
tightly to her face with her arms. Sylvia had Lena's head
securely between her own legs.

"Lick! Lick!" Sylvia was saying. She parted Lena's cunt with her
hands and dove into her muff with her tongue and nose.

Carol turned away in disgust and went back into the living room.

No one knew exactly when the orgy of fucking and sucking ended.
But it was some time far into the night when Carol woke up, but
heard a strange moaning, whining sound which piqued her
curiosity.

She got up and stumbled to find a light, tripping as she looked
over Buster. The flick of a switch revealed the dog lying between
two legs: Lena's legs.

Lena lay on the floor as if unconscious while the dog ate her
out, whining as it did so.

"Aaaaahhhh, everybody come see this!" Carol started screeching.

?hat? What the hell are you shouting about?" Ret came reeling up
behind her. He gazed down at the sight of the red-haired Irish
setter slapping its big tongue all over the cunt of the
spread-eagled girl, lying where she had last been fucked, by Ray.

He woke the others and they all came and peered over and stared
at each other wide-eyed. Then, as they silently watched, the dog,
his slimy wet dick dragging across the carpet, mounted the girl,
putting his paws on her tits.

His dick fitted slowly into her cunt wet with the come of many
fucks, and the dog too took his pleasure on the form that lay
beneath him.

"Well hot damn."

"Now I've seen everything."

"Carol honey, you always do throw the best parties."

These were the remarks that escaped their unbelieving lips.

The dog came too, leaving his come as the final crowning touch on
the layers of come caked between the girl's thighs.

The guests wandered off to fix themselves some fresh drinks.

The sound of the car honking in the driveway, and then of fists
pounding on the front door, brought them slowly to their shaky
senses early the next morning.

"Who's that?" mumbled Carol.

"Oh shit, it must be him," whispered Ret.

"Take her into the john and try to clean her up. Sober her up. It
must be Pop come to pick her up."

Ret washed his own face quickly at the kitchen sink and
straightened out his clothes. It had been years since he had seen
his father. He felt queasy now at the thought of confronting this
man whom he had hated all his life.

Carol had hustled Lena into the bathroom, and quickly washed her
up in there. She fixed her own hair and dabbed her face with
make-up. She'd had too much to drink the night before.

"Ret! Boy? Wake up in there!" The father pounded on the door.
"I've got your money!" Hanson was red in the face from yelling.
His eyebrows were deep furrows across his face and he barreled
into the trailer past his son whom he barely took notice of.

"Where is she?" he demanded. "If this is some fool trick ...

"Hello Pop. No it's no trick. Lena will be right out, my wife is
helping my friends, Sylvia, George and Ray. We had a bit of a
party here last night."

"I'll say you did," said Roland Hanson, surveying the room in
disarray.

He looked with disgust at the sprawling Sylvia as she attempted
to button her blouse over her huge breasts. Ray and George didn't
even merit glances from him.

When Carol brought Lena out, Ret introduced Carol to his father.

"Dad, this is my wife, Carol."

"Pleased to meet you sir, I sure have heard a lot about you,"
Carol cooed and shifted her hips. She was in the gold lame gown
again.

"Please do excuse the mess around here. We had us a big shindig
last night and ...

"Lena," the father said, brushing away Carol's words as if they
were flies. Lena was looking sullenly, hopelessly, at the carpet.
Her father put his hand under her chin and raised her face. The
eyes that gazed at him were not the clear laughing blue eyes of
before. They were dull and sullen and glazed over. It almost as
if she didn't see her father, but she understood very well what
was happening to her now.

"Uh, Pops, could you step over here a second ..." Ret pulled his
father into the kitchen area. "Now about that dough," he was
saying and laughing foolishly.

"Yeah, here you go." Roland reached into his wallet in his back
pocket and pulled out a fifty.

He slapped it into his son's hand. Ret stared at it with
unbelieving eyes, waiting for more.

His father turned away as if to go back to the girl.

"Uh, Pops, this is only a fifty, you owe me 650 more," the son
laughed nervously. "I owe you what?" the father turned around
with a snarl.

?ell, uh, er, the advertisement, that you put in the newspapers,
it said $700 for the return or information leading to the return
of ..."

"Yeah, but I changed my mind," Roland Hanson sneered at his son.
"Besides," he snickered. "she looks kind of used. You know what I
mean?"

He leftRet standing open-mouthed in the kitchen, the paltry fifty
lying limp in his hand like an old dick. "Why, Mr. Hanson, you're
just the spitting image of your son Ret there. Or should I say
that Ret is the spitting image of you? I think Ret's one of the
handsomest man I've ever known in my whole life." Carol picked up
cooing at Hanson when he came back to where Lena stood by Carol.

Again he paid her no mind except to look at her once closely. His
son's wife was a bad-looking old woman. "Shit, he never did have
no taste," Hanson said out loud, and then he simply said, "Thanks
for returning my daughter to me," and he took Lena by the hand
and led her out the door.

Everyone was silent as they listened to the truck doors slam and
the motor shift into gear. Then the gravel of the driveway spit
as the truck backed up and screeched out onto the pavement.

Carol broke the silence with, "Yippee! Yellowstone Park here we
come!"

"Shut up," said Ret going over to the picture window to watch the
truck turn out of the trailer camp and disappear down the road.

"What?" said Carol. "How much did he give you hon?"

"I said SHUT UP!" shouted Ret, ?nd get out of here! All of you!
Get out! Get out!"

The guests began hustling into their clothes and out the front
door.

"Honey, what's wrong with you? What's wrong?" they heard Carol
shouting inside as they piled into their truck.

Then they heard a scream inside.

"Fifty? He only gave you fifty? That BASTARD!! That BASTARD!!
We'll sue him we'll ..."

The gravel in the driveway flew again as George and Ray and
Sylvia pulled out onto the pavement, with Sylvia at the wheel.

******

Lena and Roland did not look at each other. Roland kept his eyes
on the road Lena, hugging the window on her side, watched the
road too but was looking at nothing. She was in a state of trauma
after the long weekend. They had a long drive ahead of them, but
Roland could see by her condition, all her usual spunk was gone,
that he would not have to worry about her trying to jump out of
the cab and escape again. Besides they were going too fast.

After they had passed Lima and were really out on the open road,
Roland said to his daughter, "Get down on the seat."

She turned and stared at him wordlessly.

"Get down on the seat girl, I say," he snapped nastily.

"Roland, leave me alone," she said wearily her blue eyes deep in
haze.

"Get down on the seat with your little behind over here, close,
where I can touch it, in 30 seconds. And if you don't move fast,
do you know what I'm going to do to you? I'm going to have you
committed for the rest of your stupid little life to a county
institution for crazy people. I reckon you're just about crazy
now, anyway. You look pretty crazy to me. And I guess Doc. Elbert
would say you look pretty crazy too."

Lena just looked at him.

Roland looked at his watch. "I ain't jestin' girl," be said in a
very low voice. "Thirty seconds," and he pointed to the seat.

Lena crouched as he had instructed her. She no longer cared at
all what happened to her. Sexual abuse was becoming familiar. She
could close her eyes and through most of it think of something
else, waiting, hoping, and enduring until the end of it.

This time she closed her eyes and thought of life in a county
mental institution. No, Lord, please not that. She had visited
one once. The glazed looks in the eyes of the patients, who all
had the same color, grey, in their eyes, their hair, their skin,
their voices, their clothes, the very air had been grey: no she
was afraid of that kind of existence.

Her father had raised her skirt and lowered her panties as she
lay beside him in a slavish position. Now he had only one hand on
the wheel. The other hand was occupied with his daughter's cunt,
served up on the seat right beside him.

Damn, it was so fucking good, he thought, to have some good
quality meat around again. He poked his fingers up the cunt he
had paid $50 for. It was soft and sticky and young and healthy.
Tight, too, he thought, testing out the width of the inner canal.
Slimy, the way he liked it, he remembered, sliding down the
passage from the tip of the labia to the root opening.

Cars passing were no trouble: the drivers couldn't see the girl
crouched on the seat. But trucks were another story. A big rig
traveled with them for several miles, almost an hour, to watch
the big man poking his fingers into the pretty young girl in
obeyance on the seat. The riggers cracked jokes and made lewd
remarks.

"Got you some car-cunt, there, fella, don't you?"

"Yep, that's how I like it."

"Mmmmm, sure looks good. Hello there little lady," the rigger
called down.

Lena was thinking of how, if she were put away she would never
again smell the open fields at haying time, never see the brown
earth turned over fresh and dark at planting time in spring. She
would never again ride a horse, and feel the dark wind blowing in
her hair. Never again wake to the possibility of freedom and a
life of her own. She recalled the week of freedom she had
enjoyed, waking up alone at Bill's every morning, going down the
street for a cup of coffee in the cafe, talking to the waitresses
and truck drivers. She thought of the pleasure she had received
collecting her tips at the club, the money she had earned.

Roland grew tired of finger fucking and he let her sit up. They
rode on in silence again. The rig that had been watching moved
on.

They stopped at a gas station for gas and Lena said she had to
pee. She went into the ladies room after getting the key from the
station attendant. She stood in the small dirty cubicle looking
at herself in the mirror over the sink.

She saw a very sad girl, her blonde hair in disarray, with sad
blue eyes and a strong set look to her lips. She didn't recognize
herself. What she saw was no longer the little girl who could be
shocked, or hurt by the lack of love she received. She no longer
expected love or care from anyone. She had only herself, and she
made a vow to take care of herself as best as she could. She told
herself she loved herself very much and she lectured herself
there in the mirror before looking around for some movie-like
escape. But there was no window in the bathroom, no back door to
slip out of. She peed, and went back outside where her father was
standing outside of the car waiting for her.

The attendant came up to him to give him his change.

"Please, help me, I'm going to be raped by this man! Help me!
Please help me! Please! Help!"

She hadn't known she was going to do it, but she found herself
clinging to the arm of the gas station attendant while her father
tried to pull her away.

The gas station attendant was a young pimply guy, a high school
kid, who was totally bewildered by this situation.

"Don't pay her any mind, son. This is my daughter. She's a very
sick girl. I'm just bringing her home from Beau Rive, the mental
home, you know. We're supposed give her a trial stay at home, but
as you can see, she's still not adjusted to normal life."

"He's lying! Please! Help! Help!" Lena kept crying, but her
father succeeded in prying her loose from the boy and sticking
her back in the cab of the car. He did this as gently as he
could, talking to her in a low voice.

"It's all right honey. Everything will be all right." That was
for the gas station attendant's benefit. Under his breath he
whispered fiercely, as he secretly jerked her arm, "You'll pay
for this, miss."

"Well, gee, sir, gee," was all the boy could get out, and he
watched them drive off shaking his head.

Roland couldn't risk tying her up, but now he knew he couldn't
trust her. He couldn't tie her up until they got home, for that
just wouldn't look right if anyone on the road saw him riding
with a girl in bonds.

However, he found a place for her, where she would be out of the
way and useful at the same time. He made her sit between his legs
under the steering wheel.

"Open my pants and suck my dick," he said.

He held her securely between his thighs and he could hit her on
top of her head anytime he wanted. He hit her soundly now with
his fist, for she hadn't jumped to answer his command fast
enough.

She unzipped his pants and pulled out his soft cock with the
indifference of a nurse emptying her thousandth bedpan. She
played with it expertly until it got hard, swatting it back and
forth between her hands and sometimes laying her lips on it.

Once it got hard she began licking it, the way he liked it: with
the hard flat beam of her tongue down the back starting at the
tip.

He swatted her on the head when he wanted her to change.

"Suck it now."

She had to suck him and suck him for what seemed like hours, the
whole way home to Linden. She did her mind trick again which
helped her to forget what she was doing, and the humiliating
position she was in.

She thought of her father's stallions. If she were put away in
mental home she would never again be able to sneak out of the
house late at night and ride off across the plain on Red Beauty
or Black Pride. Never again be able to take one of them down by
Neversink Creek, where it crossed the King's land and there was a
little grove. Never again would she know the electrifying fear,
which turned somehow to a terrifying joy, when she approached the
underside of the horse, approached its genitals, and felt the
horse stiffen as he waited for her touch. Never again know the
strange passion of mounting a horse and feeling its power,
greater than the power of any man, flow between her thighs.

Her father was a virile man, himself, however. She went in and
out of her fantasy of soothing or exciting images, and once she
found herself, still under the wheel whose shaft pressed down
against her neck, with come dripping out of her mouth. She had
been on her knees for hours, and this must have been the fifth or
sixth time he had come. She felt sick, at the slime in her mouth,
and at the amount of times that lay ahead when she would have to
perform this same feat of acrobatic mouthwork on this man whom
she despised.

Roland Hanson was singing to himself as he saw the road signs
announcing they were approaching Linden, population, 9,000.

"Get back up here on the seat, girl," he said.

Wearily, with a cramped back and neck and achingly cramped legs,
and even a cramped mouth, she crawled out from under the
dashboard and resumed her place on the seat beside him.

"We're almost home," he said.

She looked wearily out the window at dark countryside passing by,
the familiar billboard for Black Velvet whiskey and the one for
Holesome White Bread, and at the familiar barns and rises in the
land. She wiped her mouth and spit out the window and her eyes
became glazed again as she waited to arrive home.

He stopped the car when they came to the lane that led to their
farmhouse. He bound and gagged her. He told her: "Now your
mother's sick and she don't know you're home again. I don't want
no noise out of you. The doctor said she's got to have quiet."

He pulled the car into the driveway and went around to the other
side to help Lena out. She stumbled on her tied feet as she
stepped out onto the ground.

Roland picked her up and carried her into the barn. He threw her
on the hay in a corner by the horses.

"That's going to be your home from now on, until you learn to
behave. If you're going to act like an animal, running away from
home and disobeying your father, then you're going to live like
an animal." And he left shutting the door behind him.

Lena was thankful for the solitude she enjoyed that night. She
kept fearing her father would come to her and fuck her, but he
didn't. She heard his car drive off in the middle of the night
and knew she would have peace until morning. She wondered what he
meant by saying her mother was sick. How sick? Sick with what?
She wondered if her mother's sickness was just something made up
in the imagination of Roland Hanson for his own convenience.

She watched the stars come out, through the window high in the
barn. She could only see a small patch of midnight blue but she
watched it faithfully, as if she were a disciple, come a long way
to cast her eyes on the shrine of some sacred teacher. It was a
long while before she even became aware of the presence of the
horses.

They had champed and stamped their feet a little when Roland
brought her in, and he had told them to quiet down. But when he
left her, they had stood quietly, curiously, looking at her lying
there with their bright dark horse eyes. She looked at their eyes
and wondered about their intelligence. They had a look of knowing
or understanding a body's feelings, she thought. But they were
horses. How could they feel pity or love for her? She felt cold
and apart from them. She was less of a free creature than they
were. All three of them were tied up, but she alone was the
human.

Finally she fell asleep, into a deep dreamless sleep where there
were no phantoms, no danger, no joy either, but no pain.

She spent the next day in the straw and the next night too. Once,
in the evening, her father came out and brought her some water
and cheese.

He removed her gag to let her eat.

"How's mother?" she asked.

He said nothing, as if she hadn't spoken, and when she had
finished the cheese and water, he replaced the gag and left. She
spent many days like this. She never heard anyone moving about in
the kitchen or the yard, and so surmised that her mother must
indeed be sick. She heard the chickens screeching for food, and
she came to realize that more than half the cows had been sold.
She only heard one or two of them on the other side of the
partition. Her father came in and milked them at night.

He brought her water and cheese everyday, and she passed from a
state of mental and physical exhaustion, to one of constant
hunger and a dreamlike state of fear and fantasy. Finally, one
evening when he brought her food, he untied her. He was carrying
the milk bucket "You milk the cows," was all he said.

From that time on he allowed her to do the chores of the barn and
barnyard. He allowed her to remain untied as long as he was home.
But he always tied her up again at night or when he left for the
day. His knots were fast and tight, and she had tried many times
to break out of them but could not. The one thing he made clear
to her was that the house was off-limits to her. Under no
circumstances was she to enter, or stand close to the windows or
speak when nearby. If she disobeyed he said he would simply tie
her up in the barn and leave her there until she starved to
death.

She obeyed him. A month passed in this way and she saw no one and
spoke to no one, and heard only her father's voice. He came out
to fuck her at irregular times. Sometimes he stayed away from her
for a whole week at a time. Sometimes he fucked her four or five
times a day. She would be stooping over to pet the cat or play
with Bennie, the new puppy, and suddenly she would feel him
standing over her back. His shadow fell across the ground, and
she would turn and see him motion to the barn She followed him in
and spread her legs for him in whatever way in desired.

Sometimes he liked to take her up in the loft. At noon, with the
sun blazing on the roof of the barn and the smell of the horse
and cow dung rising like dough, he put a saddle across her back
and made her crawl around on the scratchy hay while he rode on
top, his dick hard against the horn.

Leaving the saddle on her, and holding her head by reins, he made
her take his cock in her mouth and suck him off. It took an hour
sometimes to bring him to an orgasm. He could control his cock so
well. Whenever he felt his come rising in him, he would withdraw
from her mouth, and delight for a while he switching her lovely
naked bottom with a cowhide whip, not hurting her unless she
failed to move in a way that pleased him.

One day he woke her where she lay bound up in the straw by
throwing a shopping bag from town at her. He untied her and told
her to put on some of the things in the bag. He left and when he
came back she was wearing a black brassiere with holes cut out
for the nipples and a black garter belt and black seamed
stockings. They climbed up to the loft.

He rode her around on the saddle for a while, and put the bit and
reins in her mouth. Then he made her suck him for a while.

Having his big red cock in her mouth was like second nature to
her now. It was one of her chores, like feeding the chickens. It
had to be done.

When she had been sucking him for about an hour, he pulled out
and switched her bottom for a while, while she undulated it
before him, the saddle still on her back. The black stockings
came up to her mid thighs, and the saddle hung down over her
back, and in between; the blond cunt, pert and sassy like a filly
horse, swayed and switched for him. He liked to switch at her
moons playfully and watch her cunt twitch.

Then he made her turn around again and put his dick in her mouth
while he really rode her this time, right to the end. He put his
legs on either side of her body and held her tight, right up
close to him, and when he felt his wad bulging he pulled her on
top of him tighter so that he was halfway down her throat and he
shot his wad good and long and hard straight as an arrow down her
esophagus.

Sometimes he fucked her in the ass in the early morning before
going out to work in the fields. Sometimes he came home at midday
to fuck her. Sometimes it was late in the night, when the cows
and horses were asleep that he came in to perform their secret
act, waking all the animals up.

In all this time she did not get a chance to re-initiate her
sexual relationships with the stallions. In truth, she did not
even think about it. Her life had become one useless, exitless
round of chores ranging from the pleasant and rhythmic, such as
feeding and caring for the animals, to the degrading and
unpleasant, such as servicing her father.

One day, while she was sweeping the yard in the hot sun, and her
father was in the house, a car pulled up in the driveway. Before
her father could come hustling out of the house and get her into
the barn, Brad King had jumped out of the car and gone over to
Lena.

"Lena," he said warmly. "It's so good to see you. I didn't know
you were home. Your father said you were going to be away for the
summer visiting relatives in Milwaukee."

"Well, I came home," Lena spoke softly. Her father was standing
between them now. He told her to go into the barn and finish
cleaning out the horse's stalls. She heard his conversation with
Brad as she mucked out Red Beauty's stall. The horses were out in
the corral.

"Yep, Lena came home about a day or so ago. Yep, she heard about
her mother being sick and all and she insisted on leaving the big
city to come home to take care of her old Mom."

"That's real nice," said Brad. "I sure would like to take her out
some night, so's we could talk. Just for old time's sake, like
old friends, of course."

"Lena'll be sticking pretty close to the house, I guess,"
answered Roland for his daughter. "Her Mom's pretty sick you
know."

"Even a nurse has to take a break sometimes," said Brad.

"I'll be the judge of when she gets a break. I guess she gets
plenty of breaks around here," said Roland. "Now, let's get down
to business. When are you going to bring that bull over here to
mate it with my cows. I got only two cows left now and I want to
see them both bellyful with calves. I'm going to be able to use
that extra little bit of cash come next winter."

"Yeah," said Brad, and they set a date for Brad to bring the bull
around.

"Be sure to tell Lena I sure am glad to see her back home again.
And tell her we'll go out some night, whenever she wants. Tell
her she just has to say the word," called Brad loudly as he got
back into his car.

"Yeah, I'll tell her," said Roland chewing on a bit of straw. He
stood in the driveway watching the car until it pulled entirely
out of sight.

He tied her up immediately after that. She was lying in the straw
in the corner near the cleaned horse stables. It felt very empty
with the horses not there.

Roland pulled his dick out from his dirty lowslung jeans with his
equally dirty, thick fingers. It was hard. He walked over to the
shelf on which the saddles were kept and smeared some saddle
grease on his dick.

Lena was wearing her blue jeans and moccasins, but underneath she
still had on the stockings and garters from the night before.
Roland liked her to wear them under her work clothes, so that she
was always ready.

He pulled down her pants so that he was staring at the white
moons of her ass and the blonde cunt that lay between, bound by
the black garters. He opened her ass with his large twitching
fingers, and stuffed one finger in her asshole.

She made a movement and stifled a cry of fear.

He slid the thick finger in and out for a while, easing the hole
open. When it took his finger easily, stuck three fingers in and
again she cried out.

Soon he brought the tip of his proud erect cock to her anus and
rubbed the saddle grease on the opening. He reached under her and
felt for her boobs, the long pale smooth things lying like eggs
in the straw and he paddled them with his fingers and twisted the
nipples until she held her ass up higher.

His fingers again on her ass he shoved his cock into the opening
of her asshole and held it there for a moment. Her asshole was
closing up tight around his dick.

"Open up!" he commanded.

"Open your ass up, bitch!" he snarled at her and the whip came
down across her back.

"I can't!" she whimpered.

"Open!" he said and he shoved his dick in farther.

From then on in it was a matter of yielding to the pain and fear
and opening up to him as he wanted to, in order that the whole
thing might be quickly over.

He stuffed his cock way up into her hole and stuck his fingers
into her vagina at the same time. In this way, with his horn up
her ass and his fingers up her cunt, he had quite a good grip on
her. He pulled her about, this way and that, pulling her up onto
him, and sliding her down off. What more complete way to dominate
a female, he thought, than to have this two-fisted grab on her.

He looked at her jeans, down now around one ankle, and at the
legs, spread apart and twisting, in black stockings seamed as if
they held big sausages. And he watched his powerful pole
disappear between the moons of her ass and her cunt become red
and wet as he gripped her with his fingers.

He just kept pulling her up and pushing her back, sliding her up
and down on his wet pole like a plaster horse going up and down
on its pole on the merry-go- round. Her asshole was soft, so
soft, and tight, it squeezed him tighter than her cunt.

Suddenly he couldn't restrain himself and he shot his white wad
up her ass, squeezing all his juice out of him.

"Don't ever let me catch you with that Brad King," he said,
releasing his double grip on her and throwing her back in the
straw.

One day a carnival came to town. Lena could hear the tinkle of
the faraway calliope on the edge of town as she did the barnyard
chores, and she stood on the gate of the fence of the corral for
a long while that night, looking up at the stars and listening to
the sound of distant merriment.

Her father went out that night and he tied her up in the barn as
usual, near the horses. At about eleven o'clock she heard a car
pull into the driveway, but she knew it wasn't her father's
truck. She heard a door close and she heard someone walking about
in the yard, tapping at the kitchen door and at the windows of
the house, whispering, "Lena? Lena? Are you in there? It's me,
Brad."

"Brad! I'm in here. In the barn!" she called. Her father had
neglected to gag her that evening.

He heard her and tore into the barn. She looked at the expression
of shock on his face and almost turned to look behind her.

Then she realized of course that the shock was at the sight of
her.

He untied her and asked her how long she had been left this way.

"Oh, it's been a couple of months now, I guess," she said.

Again she saw the shock on his face, and she laughed. "You have
no idea the kind of life he forces me to live. He keeps me out
here and I don't talk to anyone. He says my mother is sick but
I've never been in the house to see her. Look," she said pulling
down her jeans.

He saw the stockings and garters that lay beneath. He stared at
her without understanding.

"He keeps me out here and when he wants he comes and fucks me,"
she said.

"I've got to get you out of here," Brad whispered, with all the
heroic fervor of an eighteen-year-old.

She laughed sadly. "Brad, he'll kill me if he knows you came by
and talked to me. How the hell do you think you're going to
rescue me? He'll come and find me, wherever you take me. He'll
kill you too. He'll kill us both."

"No, there's got to be a way," said Brad, holding her in his
arms. "I'm a man too, you know," he said. She nestled into the
crook of his arm and started crying. He stroked her hair.

"Don't worry, little girl, it's going to be all right now. You
just listen to me and do what I say. I'll get you out of here."
His voice was determined, but his eyes gazing over her head at
the horse he had once seen her mounted on, were unsure.

He took her to the carnival that night, against her
protestations. She insisted on looking into the house for her
mother, though he said she shouldn't.

"I have to," she said. But she dissolved into tears when she saw
the still pale sleeping creature lying on the sad pillow with
spit bubbling between her lips.

"Mother! What's wrong with her?" she cried. She lifted one of the
woman's lifeless hands and felt a small pulse beating slowly
somewhere deep in the flesh.

But Mara Hanson never woke or responded, and Brad led Lena away,
saying they'd better get away before her father returned.

He'd seen her father in a bar, drinking and talking loudly, that
night. And as soon as Brad had walked in and seen Roland Hanson
sitting there, he'd turned around and got back in his car and
drove straight for the Hanson farm. He'd been determined to see
and talk to Lena for himself.

The carnival made her dizzy. She was unaccustomed to so many
lights and noises and the crowds of people frightened her. She
clung to Brad's arm with terror, afraid someone would recognize
her and tell her father, or worse that her father would be among
the crowd.

Brad took her around the back of a tent and opened the flap. A
red-haired woman in a dress looked up from diapering a baby.

"Linda, a friend of mine needs a place to stay. Can she sleep in
the back?" Linda quickly made up a bed in the back of the tent.
Brad whispered in her ear for a while, while Lena lay looking up
at the wrinkles in the canvas. Then Brad came over to where she
lay. He untied a knot in the wall and a flap came down, giving
them some privacy.

"She's my brother's wife and she says you can stay here for a few
days. Don't go outside the tent unless there's no one around and
wait here for me. Okay?"

Lena raised herself up and put her lips against his lips. "Okay,"
she whispered.

She fell back on the cot again and he lay down on top of her. He
just kissed her lips with his, gently, and stroked her long hair.
Their lips on top of each other were wet and firm and when they
parted their lips slightly and allowed their tongues to touch it
was sweet. His hands traveled up and down all over her body,
feeling the curves of her youth under her thin summer clothing.
She just lay there and let him feel her, feeling the warmth and
tenderness of his caress. When he slipped his hand under her
blouse and felt the smooth firmness of her left breast she
shivered and her nipple rose like a spirited stallion. He placed
his lips on this bucking animal and gently and tenderly circled
the nipple with his tongue, feeling its hard ridges. He cupped
the other breast in his hands and did the same.

She undid his belt buckle with experienced hands, but this time
she was doing it willingly, lovingly, and not as a menial chore.
When she reached for his cock under his jeans it was hard and
ready.

Gently he lay between her legs and she guided his cock to her
hole. Her cunt was all wet and ready and willing. She guided the
nose of his cock back and forth across the soft yielding flesh
and then suddenly poked it into the cave. He felt his cock slip
into her wet cunt and felt the space beneath that was still left
to probe and he sighed and pushed on top of her and drove his
cock deeper into her womb.

She opened her legs wider with a sigh. Never before in her life
had she had such sweet gentle loving. She squeezed her thighs
together, and squeezed her cunt, and he rode down lower into her,
feeling her flesh open before his prong.

Slowly, gently, whispering endearments into each other's ears, he
rode her smoothly to paradise, rocking into her sweet pussy that
was saying yes, yes, only to him.

Together they stared at his member, pulling up out of her and
sinking deep into her, and then he fell on her chest, between her
boobs, and she held on to him tightly and he shot his come
straight into her, as she kept rocking him into her with her ass
and hips.

******

When Brad King returned to the Rooster Tavern that night he
walked into the middle of a brawl. Roland Hanson had gone berserk
it seemed. He was flinging beer mugs and chairs at a young man
who was cursing him out while the interested clientele looked on.
Someone had managed to part them and the bouncer was trying to
throw both men out.

"That's Roland's son, Ret," said a drunk with a thick stubble on
his chin.

"What?" said Brad. He moved among the crowd until he got the
whole story. Ret Hanson, who hadn't been seen in this county for
over ten years, had showed up at the bar that night with a wild
story about how Roland had cheated him of some money. When Roland
denied it and told him to get the hell away, the son had started
shouting something about a donkey.

"She did it with a donkey. In a donkey act in Iowa City. That's
the kind of daughter you have. How do you like that? Do you like
it? I saw it, with my own eyes, I saw it!' That's what he kept
shouting," one old timer recounted to Brad with a laugh. "Whoeee,
you should have seen Roland Hanson's eyes bulge," the old man
laughed.

Brad had heard enough and he quickly left the saloon. Lena had
told him of her stay in Iowa City and how her brother had
betrayed her, and how her father had betrayed him.

The bouncer had succeeded now in ejecting both the elder and the
younger Hanson and they stood facing each other, their fists
raised, outside the establishment.

"With a donkey. She fucked a fucking donkey, she sucked him off
and then she fucked him with her cunt! How do you like that? Is
that what she does to you too? Does she fuck you just like she
fucked the donkey?" Ret was screaming.

"Shut up, you miserable liar!" Roland Hanson was almost beside
himself with liquor and anger and confusion.

Men were trying to keep father and son from falling on each other
with their fists. Brad King stepped up. "Sir, I don't know if
what your son tells you is true, but I do know one thing. Your
daughter has fucked your horses. Both of them. Your stallions.
She told me she goes out into the barn and fucks them both, after
every time you take her and you rape her in the barn!"

"It's a lie!!!!" screamed Roland Hanson, held by several hands.
His eyes were boiling red and every muscle in his body and face
was straining to keep the truth from coming out.

"Let me go. Let me go home. I'll ask Lena myself. I'll ask that
stupid bitch."

"Er, I don't think you should drive home yourself Roland, old
man. You've had quite a few," said a friend.

Roland Hanson spit. "Let me go."

"No," other men agreed. A few of them decided to escort him home,
to make sure he didn't do something wild and crazy on the way.
They could see that he was a man at the end of some kind of rope
and they wanted to protect him from himself.

Against his wild protestations, he was forced into the cab of his
pick-up between two men, and another car followed behind.

By the time they pulled into his driveway he had calmed down. He
was thinking. He let on as if he was feeling much calmer and
better, and thanked them for helping him home. He was hoping they
would leave, when they let on they'd love a cup of coffee. He let
them into the kitchen, casting a backward glance at the barn.
He'd have to wait for them to leave before he could go in there.

He fumbled around in the kitchen, knocking the glasses together,
trying to boil water on the stove for coffee.

"Where's Lena?" one of the men asked. "Have her come out here and
do it," they suggested.

"Lena!" he called gruffly and then when there was no answer he
said, "She must be asleep."

"How's Mara doing, Roland? We hear she's pretty sick. Is
everything okay? Is there anything we can do to help?"

Roland thought of that sick feeble face to whom he was feeding
small amounts of rat poison everyday. He looked the men straight
in the eyes and said, "No thanks. Appreciate it, but there's
nothing anyone can do. The doc looks in on her every once in a
while."

Brad King was among the men in the kitchen. He had ridden in the
car that followed behind. "How is Lena doing?" he asked, sipping
his coffee. "You be sure to tell that girl, my offer is still
good. I'll take her out anytime."

The other men murmured, "She's a nice girl, Roland. She'll make
some man a fine wife some day."

Roland barely kept up his polite attitude until the men finally
thanked him for the coffee and said goodnight. They were still
offering their help anytime, when they pulled out of the driveway
and drove away.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," said Roland disgustedly as he watched them
leave. He spat on the ground and then, when their headlights were
out of sight, he stalked into the barn.

He looked for her everywhere. In the loft, in the horses' stalls,
in the cows' stalls, in the house. He barely cast a glance at his
sleeping wife lying pale and grey on her cot. After he had
searched the entire premises he found himself sitting dully on a
kitchen chair, under a bare electric bulb, pounding his fist
against the kitchen table and repeating, "She's gone, she's
gone."

Then there rose up before his mind pictures of what two men had
told him she had done. With his stallions? No, he couldn't
believe that. He saw her white buttocks parted for the horses'
long dicks and closed his eyes and spit. No, not that. NO, not
with his horses. He thought about how skittish they had become of
late, almost spoiled for riding, and he remembered how he had
talked with Brad about it.

"They're ruined for riding now," he had said. "I can't figure it
out. It's like they've had a woman on their backs or something.
They just won't heel anymore."

And he remembered now how Brad King had smiled.

And with a donkey? Ret swore he had seen her do a donkey act in a
bar in Iowa City. No, Ret was full of lies, vengeful lies. He
just wanted his money, and had come home to make trouble for
Roland with a fistful of ridiculous lies.

But then where was she now? How had she escaped? Where had she
gone? He thought of the soft warm body, the odorous cunt he could
ordinarily have gone into the barn and taken, now, when he wanted
it so much, and it was gone!!!!!

Brad King went home that night and had a long, if fitful, rest.
He was not worried about Lena for the moment. He knew she was
safe in Linda's tent. But he was figuring out, even in his
dreams, how he would get Lena permanently out of her father's
clutches.

Brad woke late in the morning and greeted his parents at
breakfast. They had heard about the ruckus down at the Rooster
the night before. Indeed it was the topic of conversations at
breakfast tables that Sunday all over the county. Men were asking
men and women were asking women: "With a donkey? With a horse? Do
you think she really did it? What goes on over there at the
Hanson place anyway."

Brad refused to say much, except that he had been there and had
driven home with Roland.

"Well I reckon you'd better get that bull over to him today
anyway. Whether he's fighting with his son or not, I reckon
business will still go on."

"Yessir," said Brad and he went out to load the bull into the
van.

Brad King was not the first visitor to the Hanson residence that
Sunday morning however. Earlier that morning, much earlier, at
dawn, a car had pulled into the driveway and Ret Hanson, stepping
out, saw the figure of his father sitting hunched up at the
kitchen table with all the kitchen lights on.

Ret Hanson was humming as he knocked on the door and then stepped
in, waking his father up.

"I got her," was all he said.

"Huh?" said Roland blinking.

"She was gone when you got back here. Right?" He licked his dry
lips, just like his father.

Roland said nothing.

"I know where she is and I can get her right to you. For $2000."

Roland said, "I don't believe you."

"Here, recognize these?" and Ret pulled from his back pocket a
pair of crumpled up black panties.

Roland put them to his face and smelled them deeply. He took the
panties away from his face and his eyes had a clearer look.
"Where is she," he said.

"Ah, not until you hand the money over," Ret wagged a finger at
him. Roland got up and went into the back bedroom. He lifted the
mattress his wife lay on and pulled at a wad of bills stuffed
into the springs. He sat down and counted out a thousand dollars.
He let the mattress spring back. He went back into the kitchen.
He had never noticed that his wife had ceased to breathe.

"There, a thousand. That's all I got. Take it or leave it," said
Roland slapping the money on the table.

"I know you got more, old man, but I'll take this," said Ret
after a moment's hesitation. Then he said; "She's in the car. In
the trunk."

In the dawn's first light, two men lifted a bound figure of a
girl from the trunk of a car and carried her into the barn.

The younger man drove off in the car and the older man, after
checking that the girl's bonds were secure, and that she was
firmly gagged, left her tightly tied up in the upper loft. He
went in and fell asleep on the couch where he was awakened later
that morning by Brad King who arrived with the bull.

Roland looked at him suspiciously. Ret had told him how he'd
gone, drunk and with a woman he'd picked up, to the carnival at
the edge of town, after being thrown out of the Rooster. They
walked around spending what little money he'd had left, and then
suddenly, behind a tent, he saw Lena. She had slipped out of the
tent to pee. He'd come up behind her and hauled her away. Roland
wondered how she had gotten there. He wondered if she'd had any
help this time.

But he said nothing. He wanted to get rid of this boy. He'd have
to get some other man to help him out on the farm when he needed
help from now on.

He began to bring the bull out. It was snorting and kicking like
crazy. It obviously didn't like travelling in this fashion.

Brad got the bull into the pen where the cows would be brought to
him. He asked Roland if he wanted him to stick around and help
with the mating, but Roland said no. Brad looked over at the barn
once or twice, and Roland saw this and watched him.

"This kind of job really requires more than one man around. These
bulls can be mean, as you know," said Brad.

"Thanks, I'll be just fine. You can come by and pick him up about
five today. My brother-in-law lives down the road and he's going
to come by and help me out. Thanks."

There was nothing Brad could do but get back in his car and
leave.

Roland Hanson made his preparations carefully. First he fed the
bull, a piece of raw meat he'd kept for it in the refrigerator.

The bull was a big mean-looking bastard, with a coarse spotted
hide and horns that were black and twisted and nine inches long
apiece. He had an iron ring through his nose that was threaded a
thick rope, and from a great distance, Hanson led the bull to the
locks in the fence of the corral. He managed to maneuver the
bull's head into the harness where the bull remained, trapped.
Then he went into the barn for his daughter.

The two cows, Millie and Bess, were going crazy. They could smell
the bull outside for they were rolling their eyes and mooing. The
horses too could sense the bull's strange presence. The horses
were acting skittish and whinnying, the white of their eyes
bulging in their heads.

He went up into the loft and brought his daughter down. He ripped
her clothes off of her around the bonds of her ropes. Then he
retied her, trussing her up as if she were a heifer, binding her
hands and ankles together in one bunch. He lifted this load over
his shoulder and paraded her past the horses. He stopped at the
first one, Black Pride, and held his daughter, cunt up, to the
horse's nose. The horse sniffed at the bouquet offered to it, and
whinnied and bucked.

The second horse, Red Beauty began bucking too, even before he
raised his odorous prize to the stallion's nose. He took her out
into the daylight and tied her so that she hung from a bar in the
fence, on the other side of the pen from where the bull was tied
up.

Then he went back to the barn and led the two cows out. They were
fluttering and mooing like two cats in heat. He let them loose in
the pen and went back for the horses. These too he tied up so
they could watch from nearby.

He had his whole family with him now, except for the woman who
lay dead inside his house.

He didn't know if Lena could see or was watching but he was sure
she could sense what was going to happen.

He put one cow in with the bull and let the bull loose. He sat
back on the fence to watch.

The cow was acting queerly, sashaying back and forth in front of
the bull, but then retreating to the far corner of the pen and
mooing wildly at the slightest approach of the bull.

The huge creature was on his guard at first. He sensed the cow
waiting for him at the far end of the pen, but he also was aware
of many other presences he distrusted all around the pen. He
could smell horses, and another cow, and another smell he
couldn't identify.

He saw the red flaming meat of the cow's cunt pass in front of
his eyes again, and, as if a red flag had been waved in front of
his nose, he forgot about the possible presence of danger and
followed after his nose.

The smell of cow cunt was strong to him, and he sucked it in
through his powerful nostrils. Like the earth shifting below a
volcano, before the volcano erupts, the bull's genitals moved,
and his great cock rose slowly out of its furry sheath. His balls
stood up and became hard, as he pursued the cow into the corner
of the pen where she managed to slip away from him again.

Roland felt his own cockles rise as he watched the bull circle
with the cow, on the hunt for cuntmeat. He shifted on the fence
so that his balls felt some ease from the pressure of the fence,
and he looked down at the cunt of his daughter, as she hung from
the fence beside him. He could look down through her tied hands
and feet straight into her pink meat.

The cow shifted away again, mooing, but obviously wanting it, and
as she turned, the bull turned too and caught her before she
expected it, sinking his cock in right to the hilt as he dug into
her hide with his hoofs. His hoofs were rimmed with steel.

Cow cunt, Roland thought as he watched. The bull was riding high
into the cow's ass and the cow was making a noise quite different
from the one it made when being milked. The bull pulled in and
out of the pink cowmeat, sinking his enormous cock, which was
brown and about seventeen inches long. It looked like a big
sausage, or a gun, whenever Roland glimpsed it as it was stuck
and sunk again and again in the cow. The cow shivered and shook
and quaked and the bull pulled his cock out and dropped his hoofs
and the cow trotted away. Roland let her out of the pen.

He put the other cow in there now and sat back to smoke a
cigarette.

The bull went straight for this second piece of meat. The cow
acted terrified. She ran from one end of the pen to the other.
Roland had never seen her move that fast.

The bull chased after her, goring her once or twice with his
horns as she passed. Blood spurted out of his cow's side, as
Roland watched. The horses started to go crazy at the first smell
of blood. They were rearing up on their hind legs and straining
and stretching their ropes. They didn't like the near presence of
the bull one little bit.

The bull caught the cow in mid-pen as she changed direction in
her running. Before she could turn completely he had sunk his
cock deep into her cunt. She squealed and screeched and went down
on her front legs while her ass reared way up.

The bull was growling and roaring now as he socked it to her at
the speed of lightning. Just as quickly it was over and the cow
was trotting away with come dripping out of her cunt under her
tail, which she kept flapping.

Now it was Lena's turn.

Roland explained to Lena what he was doing to her and why she
deserved it, as he led the cow out of the pen and threw the bull
another piece of meat. He squatted by Lena, tapping one thigh
with his finger as he spoke.

"Your brother Ret told me about how you, you, my own daughter,
flesh and blood, took a donkey's dick, a donkey, into your mouth,
where I put my cock, and how you put a donkey dick into your
cunt, where I put my cock. And somebody else, that friend of
yours, Brad King, told me as how you been doing it with my
horses, Red Beauty and Black Pride, for months now. How you go
down on my horses, ruining their dispositions, and sullying your
mouth and your cunt, how you go down on them every night after I
have taken you myself.

"Now," her father continued, "I don't believe them!" The insane
rage he was filled with was apparent in the grotesque contortions
his face made as he tried to continue speaking.

Lena starred at this terrible figure of a man.

"But they both tell me it's true! Your cunt and your mouth, and
all the rest of your filthy body belong to me!"

With great effort he pulled and steered the bull into the
collar-like locks in the fence and secured it there again. He
brought the package of his daughter around to the bull's face and
held her cunt up to his nose, only inches away.

The bull reared, powerfully pulling at the locks in the fence so
that Roland feared they would yield, but they held, and he
continued to hold his daughter, cunt up, only inches away from
the bull's face.

The bull tried to gore her with his horns and Roland laughed to
hear her terrified breathing as the bull's horns came close to
her ass. He wanted to spear her by the cunt on one of the bull's
horns, he wanted to watch her get fucked like a cow. He wanted to
get the living daylights fucked out of her so he wouldn't have
any more trouble with her.

"Father! PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE!"

He heard her begging him and he felt good. That was more like it.
He liked to hear her beg and he dangled her again in front of the
bull's face. He wondered if the bull had ever smelled woman-pussy
before, and if it smelled very different to the bull than his own
kind of pussy.

The bull was kicking and rearing now and Roland realized he
wouldn't be able to get her under the bull as he had dreamed
without running the risk of getting killed himself, but his own
cock was hard and erect beneath his pants and he unzipped his
pants.

Not four feet from the bull, and under the wild eyes of his
stallions who bucked and screamed, he took out his big hard cock
and looked down at his daughter who lay beneath him, trussed up
like a heifer. Her back was on the ground and her arms and legs
tied together in the air, leaving her cunt sticking out of her
ass like a cow's.

He stopped and listened another moment to her screaming and
begging.

"PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE!"

He looked like a man stopping to hear a tune he loves being
faintly whistled by someone somewhere, unseen. Then he sank his
big dick into her beaver, holding her ass down with one powerful
hand.

He was sinking his shaft into her again and again while she
continued to scream when the five cars pulled into his driveway
and a dozen men piled out. One of the cars was a police car.

Brad King was the first to reach the girl and the man and he gave
Roland Hanson a sock on his jaw that sent him flying through the
air, his cock with him. The police raced up behind him and told
him to stay out of this, they would handle it.

Brad wasn't listening to them. He was untying Lena's bonds as
fast as he could and taking off his shirt to cover her with. She
was screaming and crying hysterically and he held her tight in
his big strong arms, cursing himself for ever leaving her,
kissing her wrists and ankles where the ropes had cut into her
flesh.

He pulled her away from the presence of the bull. The whole
barnyard was going crazy, the horses wild with fear, the chickens
scurrying underfoot, the place swarming with people.

"Mr. Hanson, Mr. Hanson, roll over slowly, but fast! Mr. Hanson,
you are in danger, roll away!" the police commanded Roland Hanson
through a megaphone. Brad's fist had knocked him right under the
bull's head and the bull was glaring down at him with its
bloodshot eyes.

Lena, in Brad's arms, heard the police's commands through the
megaphone and she opened her eyes now and looked at her father,
sprawled beneath the bull's hooves his dick in his hand.

"KILL HIM! KILL HIM! KILL HIM, THAT DISGUSTING BASTARD!!" she
began screaming hysterically and it was as if her screaming
pulled a trigger.

Suddenly as if the bull saw red he raised one hoof and stamped on
the squirming thing beneath him. Everyone pulled their breath in,
and then looked away, except for Lena. She alone looked straight
at the smashed head of the man who had tormented her to the very
edge of insanity.

She threw her face into Brad's shoulder and sobbed and sobbed for
a long time, as if finally she had found release.