PONY GIRL

BY UNKNOWN

Part 1

The stars were just beginning to appear in the evening sky. They
came out one by one, like shy virgins, and then twinkled
magnificently in the clear deep dark blue of the early evening.

Lena hurried from the farmhouse with her milk pails in her hands.
Her face was thrust into the dark heavy collar of her coat, and
it scratched her soft cheek. The harsh words of her parents,
screaming at each other, still rang in her ears, and it wasn't
until she was halfway across the yard that she looked up and saw
the bright stars in the sky. Then she stopped and gazed at them,
and wished on the first one she had seen for a better life.

She didn't know any other kind of life except that which took
place within the small confines of the little Iowa farm where she
lived with her parents. Life had been better when her brother,
Ret, had still lived with them. But he had grown up and gone away
run away from the life of brutal words and harsh treatment that
their father meted out to everyone on his land.

"You screaming bitch, you're no better than a whore! You deserve
to be treated like a whore!"

Lena turned and saw her father's raised arm strike her mother to
the floor through the lighted kitchen window. With a sob she
turned again and hurried to the barn. She opened the big door and
then closed it and went down the row of cows to Tess, her
favorite cow.

Tess's udders were heavy tonight and Tess mooed in great pain and
pleasure as she saw Lena approaching with her milking pails. Lena
had barely positioned the pail under Tess and placed her hands on
the cow's heavy tits when the milk began to come. Lena deftly
directly the steaming hot stream into one pail, which quickly
filled. Another pail was filled from the same udder, and then two
more pails from the second udder.

She talked to the cow as she milked; "That's it Tessie, girl.
Feel better now? Didn't you know I would come out here to milk
you? You know I wouldn't forget all about my Tessie." She stroked
the cow's hot sweaty flanks and the cow turned to look at her
with her big, wordless cow eyes. Lena imagined that the animal
understood Lena's own pain and sorrow. Every time she witnessed
her father striking her mother she felt a sickness for which she
knew no cure. She had been witnessing such scenes ever since she
could remember. But now, as she approached puberty, the cruelty
of her father toward her mother seemed to affect Lena's sensitive
spirit even more.

She was twelve years old and a very pretty girl, wholesome and
healthy looking with a good clean, farm girl's complexion: fair
with a rosy blush on her cheeks from working outside, summer,
winter, spring and fall.

She was well developed for a twelve-year-old, as so many farm
girls are. Perhaps it was the environment in which she grew up,
witnessing the farm animals in all the stages of their existence:
from birth, infancy, mating, adulthood, and death. They kept pigs
and chickens as well as cows on their farm, and there were four
horses: two old plow horses which they had from the days when
they had a horse drawn plow, and two beautiful stallions which
her father kept for his own riding pleasure.

As she went down the line of milkcows, the barn filled with the
warm soothing smell of fresh hot milk. Together with the smell of
the hay in the loft, and the twinkling of the stars through the
loft window, the barn seemed a world apart from the farmhouse
across the yard. The barn was a place where Lena felt she could
be alone, and dream.

Tonight Lena felt she had a lot to dream about. Tonight was a
special night. She had gotten her very first period that very
day. Now she was a woman, though the size and shape of her
breasts and the shrinking of her waist had told her she was a
woman for a few months now.

"If I am a woman, now," she thought to herself, "I should have
plans. I'm not going to spend the rest of my life on this farm,
after all." Thus ran her thoughts as she stooped under the cows'
bellies with her pail, and spoke to them soothingly. She liked
the feel of her hands against their smooth full udders. And the
hot milk splashing against the pail and hitting her hands made
her laugh. She licked her hands off when she finished Linda, the
brown cow, and moved on to Millie. She had special names for each
one of them, and she spoke to them and told them of her dreams.

She was just starting on the last of them when she felt a cold
blast of air at her back and she didn't even have to turn around
to sense that someone was standing behind her. Like an animal,
the short hairs at the back of her neck told her of the man's
presence. She turned around. It was her father.

She just stared up at him. He was wearing his riding boots under
his greatcoat. Although it was still spring, it was still very
cold in the little northern Iowa country. There might still be
more snow this year.

"Finish your work, child," Roland Hanson said.

Lena turned back to Josie, a pretty dappled creature, but she
could feel her father's eyes on her back and this made her
nervous. She gripped the cow's tits clumsily and the milk
squirted onto her feet, wetting her toes through her torn boots.
Josie sensed Lena's nervousness, and let out a pained moo and
swatted her tail furiously. Lena grasped her harder.

One hoof shot out and the pail was lying on the barn floor, the
new milk flowing over the hay.

"Stupid cunt!" shouted her father. The milk had splattered him
too.

Lena kept milking furiously.

She got only half a bucket from Josie and then stood up.

"Are you going riding, Poppa?" Lena asked. She was bending over,
counting the buckets of milk she had filled. Under her coat, her
long breasts fell against her wool sweater.

Her father stood right in front of her and he put his hand under
her coat and squeezed the pendulous breasts.

"What are you ...?" Lena began. She had often been aware of him
looking at her, these long winter months this year. But never
before had he been so bold as to touch her.

"Shut up, cunt," he said and put his big, strong, knobbed hand
over her mouth, effectively gagging her.

"What ...?" she tried to break away from him, but her struggles
only made him grip her tighter. As if she was a package he was
taking into town to mail, he picked her up under his arm and
carried her in to a corner of the barn. He threw her down on the
hay. He opened his greatcoat and Lena saw that he wore nothing
underneath. She saw his huge erect genitalia which he seemed to
be parading before her, for he just stood over her and let her
look for a few moments, while he swung his cock a little and let
it bounce on top of his balls.

She had seen the genitalia of all the animals on the farm before,
but she had never seen the erect genitalia of a man.

Her father must have weighed 250 pounds. He was a big man who
worked hard all year round and the work put muscles all over him,
where city men have only flab. He fell on her now. She smelled
the alcohol on his breath and tried to turn her face away from
the loathsome smell. Harshly, he had pulled her wool sweater up
over her breasts.

"Nice boobs," he was muttering more to himself than to her.
"Nice, nice boobies," he was knocking them from side to side,
batting at them and rubbing his unshaven chin in them.

One hand went down and pulled up her skirt and forced its way
into her panties. She tried to scream and move, but he held her
tightly pinned, and his big knobby fingers forced their way
between her tightly closed thighs.

"Fucking virgin tit-woman, fucking shrinking virgin," he was
muttering as he pinned her legs apart with his legs. Each of his
legs was like a pillar and Lena knew now there was going to be no
escape. She looked down and saw the huge reddened cock taking aim
between her thighs and then he rammed his cock at her unwilling
opening.

Her flesh tore and she tried to scream but he had his hand over
her mouth. Straw, hay, pubic hair all got sucked in to her
battered hole as he rammed her again. The first time he had only
managed to ram the head of his cock into her vagina. The hymen
had held him out.

Now he battered this last defense. She screamed and screamed
under his hot hand as now he just rammed and rammed his cock into
her fully opened and bleeding hole, seeming to say with each
plunge, "I am going to make a woman out of you. You want to know
what it's like to be a woman? Here, I'll show you," and he'd ram
his shaft into her bleeding vagina again.

When he was through he just stood up and left her lying there. He
stood over her again for a moment. He didn't need to threaten her
not to tell anyone what had just happened. She knew all his
threats by now, even when they were silent.

Then he turned and stalked out of the barn, leaving her alone.

She lay there a long time, crying silently to herself. Was that
what lovemaking was like? Was that what her mother suffered every
time her parents lay down in their bed? Was this what her
mother's frequent screams in the night signified?

Lena wondered if her mother knew where her husband was going when
he left the house.

With some straw she wiped the blood away from her thighs. But her
hole was still bleeding. She tried to stuff some soft grass up
her to stem the bleeding, but it didn't seem to help. She wiped
her eyes, and pulled her clothes back on.

Then she went to take the full milk pails around to the kitchen,
where she emptied them into the vat. Then she had the rest of her
evening chores to do.

She scattered feed to the chickens and then climbed up on the
pigsty and threw the pigs their evening swill. Her walk was
unbalanced, as if the ripped, torn and bleeding place between her
legs had disjointed her legs. She had to walk a little bowlegged.
The chickens gabbled at her feet like the Lilliputians around the
giant Gulliver. The pigs snorted and rolled over in delight at
receiving their slop. She balanced on the fence around their sty
and put a hand to her crotch, as if to try to soothe it.

When she turned in to bed that night, she was in still more pain.
The bleeding had stopped but the blood was all in clots now, and
every time she tossed in her restless dreams, she felt a tearing
of flesh around her vagina and she dreamed again and again that
she was being raped.

"Good morning, sunshine!"

Lena opened her eyes to bright spring sunshine and the smell of
bacon frying in the kitchen. The world seemed bright and
beautiful. It was a Saturday and after her chores she would have
the day to herself. She was young and she was a woman now??today
was the second day of her first period. These were the first
thoughts to run through her head.

She swung her legs off the cot.

"Ohhhhhhh!" she stopped short as the ripping pain between her
legs brought back the most brutal memory of yesterday.

"What did you say, honey?" called her mother's voice from the
kitchen.

"Nothing!" she called back. Slowly she raised her flannel nightie
and surveyed the damage. Her menstrual flow was all over her
thighs as well as some additional bleeding that had started up in
the night from the torn membrane of her virginity. She cleaned
herself up sadly, and very gently inserted a Kotex up her raw
vagina.

She showered and got dressed, dreading to see her father again.

But her mother had good news for her.

"Your father left early this morning. He went in to town and
he'll be away all day, until supper."

Lena said nothing. She sat down at the place her mother had fixed
for her and hungrily devoured the eggs and bacon and biscuits.
She and her mother never discussed her father, but there was an
unacknowledged understanding between them, that mother and
daughter were allies against the stern man. As allies, they were
both helpless, but the flow of sympathy between them was strong,
if unspoken, when, after he had abused mother or daughter with
his blows, he left them alone to each other.

"What did he go to town for?" Lena asked sullenly.

"He went to see about Joe King's bull. He wants to mate it with
our cows," said Mrs. Hanson. She had been a pretty woman in her
youth, with long blonde hair and a creamy complexion that Lena,
her daughter, had inherited.

But Mara Hanson, though all of 39 years old, was only a faded
image of her former pretty self. Years of hard farm work, and her
husband's contempt and brutality had made her blonde hair grey,
and her face worn and anxious looking. She had brought five
children into the world. One, the oldest, a son, had been born
stillborn. Two had died in infancy. Then Clark and Lena had come.
A sixth baby, unknown to her husband, had died under a local
midwife's hand, in a barn. Mrs. Hanson's body, under her thin
housedress, reminded Lena of an old cow that has birthed too many
calves and has no milk to give any more.

"Did you sleep well, my darling?" asked her mother.

"No, Mom," Lena confessed.

"You know you shouldn't let what your father said last night
worry you too much. He seems harsh but he only has your best
interests at heart," said the self-deluding woman, scrubbing the
greasy skillet at the sink.

"Mom, come sit down for a minute," said Lena. The night before
she had left the house in the middle of her parents' argument
about her.

When she had discovered her period yesterday afternoon, she had
told her mother about it. Her mother had told her father. That
night her father began laying down the rules of her new life, at
dinner.

"You will not leave this farm unaccompanied by your mother or
myself," he said forking a slab of roast beef into his mouth.
"You will not let yourself be alone with any of the boys at
school," he continued sloshing up the gravy on his plate with a
hunk of bread.

"Roland, I think we can trust the girl a little bit. She's only
twelve, after all. She doesn't have such thoughts on her mind
yet."

"They're never too young for such thoughts," spat out her father.
"I won't have any pulling bastard babies sitting at my table. If
I ever find you with your legs open to any of the stupid yokels
around here so help me I'll ..." the thought made him so angry he
choked on the meat in his throat and at his inability to find
words harsh enough to explain what he would do to her, if he ever
found her in the positions of love.

"Momma, why did you TELL him, about my period, I mean," Lena took
her mother by the hand and made her sit down at the table.

"Well, he's your father, I thought he should know that his little
daughter is a woman now. In my day, when a girl had her first
bleeding, her mother and her grandmother slapped her on the face
and then kissed her and there was a big celebration. It was an
occasion of celebration," she said sadly and the vague look that
came into her eyes more and more often now, crept in.

Lena shook her mother's hand to bring her back. "What was it like
in those days, when you were a girl?" she asked.

"Oh honey, you know I've told you all about it many times."

"Yes, but tell me again."

Lena came over and sat in her mother's lap and her mother stroked
her hair as if she were a little girl still and began reciting,
"In those days we were a huge family. Grandmothers and
grandfathers, aunts and uncles, cousins oh my! the cousins. And
for every holiday we'd all get together, at one of the sisters'
or brothers' houses, and all the women would start cooking and
all the men would be smoking and talking, or playing games,
horseshoes the older men would play, while all the children would
be a'playing together, and getting into trouble. My, the fine
times we had," she sighed.

"And what happened when you grew up?" asked Lena, snuggling
against her mother's breasts.

"Well, then the beaus came. One by one, all the sisters of all
the branches of the family married off. The young men would come
a'calling on ?m, and end up leading them off to the church. And
my turn came, and I went like the rest of them."

"What was he like in those days?"

"Who? Oh, your father. He was a good-looking man. Still is. Oh
yes, I always thought he was good-looking. Roland Hanson, son of
one of the first family of Swedes in this district. With his
family's canning business to inherit, I couldn't believe that
that good-looking well-off man was interested in ME! Course PI
was pretty then," her eyes became clouded again, as if a cloud
were passing over her mind.

"Momma, WHY did you tell him?" Lena got up and stood over her
mother. Mrs. Hanson didn't move. Lena shook her by the shoulders.

"Mother! Why did you tell him?"

"Tell him what? Tell who?" Mrs. Hanson raised her worn and weary
face to the bright eyes of her daughter. Wisps of her thinning
grey hair fell in her face.

"Father! About my period!"

"Honey, I thought he ought to know. You know I have to tell him
everything," her mother's voice became vague.

"I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU FOR TELLING HIM!" Lena screamed and she
ran out of the kitchen slamming the back door behind her.

Mrs. Hanson looked after her in astonishment. She heard Lena's
heavy steps across the yard and then the sound faded. She must
have gone into the barn, thought Mrs. Hanson. She turned back to
her kitchen table and stared at the unwashed cups and plates on
the dirty tablecloth.

When Lena left the house she ran across the yard scattering the
chickens, past the barn, across the driveway and out into the
pasture. Her father had let the cows out early that morning, and
they had already worked their way to the far corner. She kept
running past them. It was only when she got to the top of the
wooded rise that divided their land that she stopped running. She
walked across the field being plowed for spring planting. The
dark earth lay in broken furrows; the hard dark earth lying in
freshly turned clumps. This field would be wheat.

She reached the far field that was being left to lie fallow for a
season. The short spiky husks of the stalks of last summer's corn
stubbled this field. At the end of this field she saw the
stallions running across the land.

Her father's stallions were beauties. Tall, proud creatures,
strong as oxen and very fast, her father had paid a king's ransom
for them. He loved to ride but didn't have time to ride them
everyday, so he had hired one of the neighbor boys, Brad King, to
exercise them.

Lena watched Brad now, riding the back of one of the stallions,
Black Pride. The other animal, Red Beauty, was running free
alongside. Brad, on top of his horse, looked like a toy figure in
the distance. He was waving one arm and shouting or singing
something. She watched them ride by across her horizon.

The days passed very slowly now. Life was like a burden to her.
Everyday she woke with a sick feeling in her stomach to face a
lifeless kind of life, of not speaking to her father, while doing
his bidding in the house, barely speaking to her mother, whose
silent hurt look made Lena hate herself even more. The best part
of the day was going to sleep and the worst part was waking up.
Every waking moment was spent dreading her father's next attack.

And he did attack again. He caught her from behind in the kitchen
the next Sunday when her mother was out at church. Father and
daughter both refused to go to church. Lena had figured if she
stayed in the house he wouldn't try to touch her, but she was
wrong. With his arms around her waist he dragged her outside
across the yard to the barn. Her screams and cries of dismay made
him laugh, and as she beat on his head as hard as she could with
her fists he only laughed more. His head dodged her fists as if
they were flies.

"Okay, my beauty, I know you've been waiting for this." He threw
her down on a dank pile of straw.

He stood over her grinning. His face was unshaven and his teeth
blackened with snuff and tobacco juice. His lips were split and
dry. He brought his thick tongue out over the lips and softened
them. He pulled out his pants and brought out his cock.

She stared at the pink raw thing, pointed like a spear, and the
huge balls that bulged under them. She lay on the straw panting
from fear.

At his next move, which was to fall on her, she scrambled to her
feet. He got up as quickly and then they stood there, facing each
other across a milk pail like two wrestlers sizing each other up.
The barn door was behind her and she wondered if she could run
for it.

She didn't have time to think for he took her by surprise with
his fist in her jaw which sent her sprawling. Once she was down
he kicked her in the cunt and she lay there writhing in pain.

He left her and went and got a harness from one of the stallion's
stalls. Before she knew it she found he was tying her up to a
post in the barn with the straps of the bit around her face.

When he had her tied down so that she couldn't move, he ripped
her dress off and just stared for awhile at her large white tits
and the brown nipples that hung on the ends of them. He walked up
to her and pressed his cock into her tits. She writhed with
revulsion.

Then he pressed his cock into her mouth. She screamed and tried
to shake her head from side to side, but the huge male member was
firmly forcing its way into her throat.

Her father squatted on top of her, turning to look at her tits
and twist her nipples from time to time, and as he did this he
drove his cock home deeper and deeper into her throat until she
was almost choking which was when he came in a sea of creamy
come.

* * *

Lena went out to the stallions' stalls at one o'clock that night.
She couldn't sleep, the house seemed stifling. Her mother had
come home from church that night and made supper. She had
remarked on how unusually quiet her family had become and had
said, well if no one had anything else to say she would tell them
what happened at church that day. She had talked all through
dinner, and after dinner Mr. Hanson had left the house. Lena sat
up with her mother for a few more hours letting her mother
chatter, and then had gone to bed, complaining of being very
tired.

However she hadn't been able to sleep for a moment. Turning and
turning in bed she waited until she heard her mother go to sleep.
Her father wouldn't be home at all that night, she knew. Often he
went off in the truck and didn't come home until morning. Now she
slipped into the stallion's stall, which was on the other side of
the barn from the cows.

Black Pride and Red Beauty were both awake. Their bright black
eyes stared at her with curiosity. Lena didn't know what drove
her here. Perhaps it was because after the sordidness of the
experience tonight, she sought out some contact with real beauty.

She was never allowed to ride the stallions. Her father said a
woman's flesh on their backs would spoil their dispositions
permanently. But she rode the other horses and loved to ride.

The stallions knew her. She slipped them apples and sugar from
time to time. She had some sugar with her now, and each horse
licked the cubes in her hand. She began stroking them. Red Beauty
was her favorite. The creatures reddish tone was brilliant
beneath the open sky and sun, and even here in the dark barn his
coat gave off a reddish glow.

She stroked his neck and flanks. She found a brush and began
brushing his coat on his back and stomach. Suddenly she noticed
that the animal's genitals were erect. His cock was black but his
balls had the reddish tinge of his coat. To her the size of the
horse's cock was the normal size of a cock. The male horses'
genitals were a familiar sight to her. Her father's cock, small
and paltry in comparison, made her laugh now. The mere thought of
it: the stupid man's pride in his genitalia, so unimpressive
beside the fine equipment of this animal here.

Without thinking what she was doing, she slipped underneath the
animal and began stroking his cock and balls. The animal bridled
at first but it stood quite still, quivering as she slipped her
hands quickly across the erect span of HARD flesh. The penis
became wet under her hands.

She stopped once and heard the animal growl.

She slipped off her panties and bent over under the horse. His
legs were so long that she could stand bent over under his
stomach. She parted her buttocks with her hands and backed onto
the horse's cock. It went smoothly into her.

The animal stood quite still as the girl slid back and forth on
his wet cock, hard and pointing like an accusing finger. She
laughed as she came at the wonder of the animal's hugeness and
the depths to which his cock could reach.

******

The spring became sweet again. Or bittersweet. She always loved
the ripening of the leaves on the trees, the slow emergence of
green all over the land, the softening up of the earth. It rained
for one week straight and then the whole farm became mud and she
had to muck through the yard in big boots to do her chores.

She went to school every day and avoided the advances of the
local boys. If her father ever found her flirting with one of
them he would kill her, or come close to it she knew that. Now he
would come to the schoolyard sometimes and watch her playing
through the fence. Her games became stiff and self-conscious
then, and her girlfriends noticed the strange situation, and they
became distant. They were all afraid of Lena's father and ran to
the far yard of the schoolyard when they saw him watching them.

Sometimes he waited for her after school, waiting in the truck
while all the other kids went by, until he saw her. He would
signal to her with his finger, and she would have to leave her
other girlfriends.

"My father's here to pick me up again, I have to go," she said
with an unhappy look on her face. Her girlfriend Ellen squeezed
her hand and kissed her cheek before running off with the other
girls. Lena would climb into the truck next to her father.

He usually took her to an abandoned barn he knew about down by
Kingfisher River. Usually she was sobbing at first, as he stopped
the truck and pulled her out. He pulled her stumbling behind him
to the shack where he made her lie on the floor and put his cock
in her mouth or cunt.

He whispered to her coarsely at these times: "I like your cunt,
my girl. Not every man's got a daughter with such pussy on her."

He liked to part her cunt with his dirty fingers to ready it for
his reddened cock. He liked to force his cock between her teeth
and down her throat.

For a few weeks he would take her only from behind, forcing her
to her knees so he could drive his shaft home into the mound that
stuck out between her thighs. He couldn't keep his hands off her
boobs, and he began to grow bolder, sticking his hands inside her
shirt to squeeze her boobs couched in her white bra, as he passed
her in the hall at home.

Still, every time her father took her as his sullen victim, she
sought revenge by going out into the barn that night and finding
pleasure with his horse. For as much revulsion as her father
evoked in her, ten times greater was the pleasure with the
stallion Red Beauty. She rigged a harness for herself, by which
she could strap herself to the animal's underside, belly to
belly. Her legs boldly apart, her cunt pink and wet and wanting,
strapped to her hero, she rode to glory with his long horsecock
poling into her hole.

She had seen horses mate before, and she had seen these stallions
mate. The male of the horse species mates ferociously with its
female.

But for her, Red Beauty remained almost completely still, as if
hypnotized. The horse seemed to sense quite clearly that another
than one of his kind was mounting him, and with his silence and
his acquiescence he seemed to be paying homage to the higher
species which sought him out. He seemed to understand the honor
she was paying him, and he let her pay it freely.

Horsecock was the only thing that could satisfy her now. She
laughed at school when the boys took interest in her, or when the
other girls had crushes on this boy or that. The other girls
didn't understand her. She acted so superior when it came to boys
but they never saw her go out with one.

"Boys don't interest me," was all she would ever say to enlighten
the mystery. "And men? Well, I'm waiting to see a real man. I
don't believe I've ever seen one."

"What are you crazy? Mr. Nolte's a man and he teaches right here
in this school. Your father's a man and you see others, what do
you mean you've never seen a real man?" asked Ellen. Ellen was a
tall thin girl who felt very self-conscious because of her
height. She towered above all the boys in their class. Her body
had not begun developing yet, and she still had only little
nipples for breasts.

Lena looked at Mr. Nolte walking by, a bald man with an undefined
bundle between his legs, under his baggy pants, and she had to
laugh.

Ellen looked at her peculiarly and walked away.

Mr. Hanson did not appear at the schoolyard for a week. He was in
town arranging for the transfer of the King bull to his farm to
mate with his cows. Some of the cows were birthing now in the
spring from the last time he brought the bull to them. He wanted
another litter in the making. He received good prices on his
calves.

Joe King agreed to bring his bull around the next Saturday.
Roland Hanson looked forward to the occasion. He forgot about his
daughter for a while and contented himself evenings taking his
stallions, first one then the other, out for rides across the
countryside.

Lena watched from behind the fence as the figure of her father,
burly and heavy, on the swift shape of Red Beauty became a speck
on the horizon. She grew angry thinking of her father's thighs
goading Red Beauty's flanks. She knew that her father's whip
would be no more sparing to his horse than his words or actions
were to his wife and daughter.

But there was nothing she could do about this anger. She couldn't
even speak of it to anyone, and now, her beauty, which was taking
shape and growing every day, began to take on a sullen, inward
look.

Brad King came by one evening to pick up his pay from her father
and she was in the yard when he pulled up in his car. He had a
'68 Chevy with all the chrome polished on it, and she admired the
car.

"You like her, huh?" Brad stuck his head out the window and asked
her. "Yep, I paid for her and fixed her all up myself. You should
have seen her when I first got her," he shook his head.

"Well my father's not home right now He went out riding about an
hour ago."

"Well, I guess I could wait a while, see if he comes back. I sure
could use that dough," he eyed her up and down. She was wearing a
pair of old blue jeans and thin red shirt.

"You and me should go out some time," he said. "I'll take you for
a ride in my jalopy."

She laughed sadly. "No, I don't think so." Brad was already
graduated from high school. He was eighteen years old and already
looked like a man. He had been working his father's land since he
was a kid and had grown straight into a man's big body. He had
sandy-colored hair, like her own, and blue-grey eyes with a kind
look to them. He had thin hungry looking lips. He shifted in his
seat.

"Why not? Don't you think I'm good enough for you?" He looked at
the plump mounds jiggling right under the thin red fabric of her
blouse and he allowed his glance to slip down to the v-shaped
wrinkles of her tight jeans as they gripped her between the legs.
He remembered that she was only twelve years old.

"I'm too young to go out with boys. Besides, my father would kill
me."

"Oh, so your father don't want you seeing no men," he eyed the
shape of her ass as she bent down to tie her moccasin.

They heard a galloping against the earth and saw Mr. Hanson come
riding across the field behind the barn. He rode up and stopped
the horse between them.

"What are you doing there, son?" he asked speaking down to the
boy in the car. "Just talking to your daughter while I was
waiting for you, sir. Remember you said you'd have my pay for me
today?"

"Oh yes, I'll go in the house and get it. And you, get on with
your chores, sister. Don't be wasting your time
chitter-chattering with those mooney eyes."

"I swear," he went on in the kitchen as he counted out the money
to Brad King, "they say in the church that women are pure and
saintly, but every woman I've ever known has been hornier than a
female feline in heat.

Except the female of the human species is like that ALL THE TIME.
Fifty-sixty- sixty-five," he counted out.

"Don't you agree with me, Brad?" he asked.

"Yessir," said Brad.

"Listen, don't you let me catch you hanging around my little
Lena. That girl's very preious to me, and I won't have no country
hicks knocking her up before her time. You hear me, boy?"

"Yessir. Nothing could be farther from my mind," Brad said.

* * *

Her father took her brutally that night. He made no show of
hiding what he was about. After dinner, while her mother was at
the sink doing the dishes, Lena tried on a new dress she had
ordered through the mail. It had just come that day. Her mother
pinned it up for her and then she went to her room and changed
back into her jeans. She sat cross-legged on the floor, watching
TV, with pins in her mouth, as she sewed. She had a good, clever
little stitch. All the while her father sat smoking and watching
her. He watched every movement of her tits beneath her blouse,
and every strain of the denim across her cunt.

Lena was aware of his eyes, but felt safe because of her mother's
presence. Surely he couldn't take her right in front of her
mother.

Suddenly he swooped down on her, scattering her dish of pins, and
simply picked her up and carried her through the kitchen and out
of the house under his arm.

"Roland, what are you doing?" screeched and flapped his wife Mara
at the kitchen door as she watched her husband carry her daughter
to the barn.

"Shut up and keep out of here," he merely roared at her over her
shoulder.

She stood for a moment nervously wringing a towel in her hand as
she stared at the closed barn door.

Inside, Roland Hanson tied his daughter's neck to the base of one
of the posts. He didn't have to fear her flailing arms and legs.

"Mother! MOTHER!" she was screaming.

"No, cunt, I'm your father," he slapped her face back and forth
until she stopped screaming. He left the red imprint of his
fingers across her face He parted her thighs with his rough
knees. His own thighs were like mountains, thick and heavy and
strong. The white skin of her own thighs, cruelly parted, against
his, was like cream lying beside mutton.

His cock was hurting him in his pants. The tip of it stuck above
the waistband. He tore the buckle open on his belt and unzipped
his fly. He squashed his cock into her face, dragging the end of
the huge member across her cheeks and lips and nose, across her
eyes, smashing her face with it.

"So you got the hots for Brad King, do you. Open your eyes and
take your fill of the likes of a real man," he snarled in her
ear.

She opened her eyes in time to witness his cock take aim for a
moment over her mouth. His hands, one on her upper and one on her
lower jaw, pried her mouth open. She watched the cock descend
into her small gaping mouth.

It filled all the space between her tongue and the roof of her
mouth, then pushed further into the hole of her throat. Again and
again he raised and then lowered himself down into the soft
cunt-like flesh of her throat, while she choked and sputtered and
tried to keep breathing through her nose.

"You think Brad King's thingie is as big and bad as mine," he
whispered evilly into her ear.

She was just breathing and trying to open her mouth wide to allow
him the kind of access he insisted on, so he would get his rocks
off and let her loose.

But he wanted an answer to his question.

He reached behind him, as he sat on her chest plunging his cock
into her face, for her boobs. He found one with one hand and he
juggled it in his hand so full and weighty was it. He found and
juggled the other one. Then his fingers sought the nipple, which
he treated with a sharp twist.

"Owwww," a gurgled sound came out of her full mouth, and she
tossed her head, which made her choke even more as she was
brought up short by the leather thong around her neck.

"Do you think his cock is as big as mine?" he demanded of her
again giving the nipple another good hard twist.

"Nnnnn," she shook her head from side to side.

He seemed satisfied with her answer for he jumped out, pulling
his cock out of her mouth and he stood above her naked body.

Kneeling he forced her legs apart again and he surveyed the pink
pussy lying helpless before him, couched in her wheat-colored
cunt hair. He spat on the cunt to make it slippery wet.

"Driest fucking cunt in the Midwest," he said with contempt.

Then he made a fist and began to try to shove it in her now wet
cunt. She shrieked with pain, for he had grabbed some of her hair
in his fist, and he was mercilessly trying to get all five of his
crumpled fingers and knotted knuckles up her at once, and indeed
he did. He kept at it until he had worked his fist all the way
in.

He chortled, "Look!" he said. "Look!" he shook his fist in her
cunt swinging her body around, and she, exhausted, tried to raise
her head and look as he said.

She saw him, the end of his arm sunk way deep into her. He looked
like an amputee.

"Now I've got you where I want you!" he said. "If you ever so
much as breathe in Brad King's direction, do you know what I'll
do to you?" he asked.

Again he forced her to make some kind of answer. She shook her
head. He told her.

"I'll stuff all kinds of things into you, I'll fuck with anything
I can find lying around. I'll fuck you so good and so long and so
hard that no man will want your raggedy meat after that. I'll
make your cunt loose its memory that there's any such thing as a
another man's cock in the world."

Now he yanked his fist out. He prepared his cock for its meal,
basting it with some of his own spit.

But as he opened her cunt with his fingers he looked at the
pussyflesh and realized he wanted to eat her out. Father sank his
mouth into daughter's cunt and his thick hot tongue was ravaging
her cunt, biting on the nub of flesh between the outer labia. He
poked her clitoris with a bent finger, while his tongue stuck
into her cunt depths, and she writhed and screamed at this new
humiliation.

To have this huge, hideously ugly man who had fathered her, open
her legs and stick his tongue in her sickened her and made her
scream hysterically. Finally he removed his face from her cunt
with a big grin for he had woman come smeared all over his lips.

"Sickening, they're all the same," he muttered to himself, and
now he took his cock in his hand and plunged into the melting
butter of her cunt. She was softer and juicier than she had ever
been before, and he sank right into her cunt up to the hilt of
his shaft. She was all pussysoft inside, like a juicy quilt. His
dick throbbed and trembled as he withdrew it slowly, only to
plunge it again. His foreskin slid up and down over his cock and
there was cuntjuice all over.

He increased the friction over his penis' head by jamming in and
out faster and faster. The cock made a sucking sound every time
it came in and out of her passive cunthole.

Suddenly he was riding freely, as if he were on a stallion. He
was no longer propelling himself on her, but it was as if he had
simply let go of all control of his body and was being moved up
and down through space, an inner space, a black starry universe,
by some other force than his own. Smoothly, riding high and low
and high and all the way, he came gushing into his daughter's
cunt.

He stood up and smeared the come on his cock all over her belly,
then left her lying there to untie the rope around her neck with
her own hands. He didn't even bother to put on his pants as he
strode across the yard and got into his car. He drove off for a
night of honky-tonking, leaving the mother staring out from the
kitchen window, waiting for his headlights to disappear, before
she ran to her daughter lying in the barn.

"My darling, sweetheart, what has he done to you?" sobbed the
mother, untying the rope from around her daughter's neck.

It was minutes before Lena could talk, so long did it take her to
get her throat back into working, breathing, and talking order.
The strap had left a red mark around her neck.

The worn, older woman tried to carry her daughter to the house,
but it was no use. The younger woman was much stronger than the
mother, and it was Lena who ended up helping her hysterical
mother across the yard.

Lena tried to soothe her mother in the house, after she had put
on some clothes.

"Calm down, mother, it's all right. Maybe if he's on top of me,
he won't be hurting you so much anymore," she said. She wondered
if this was true. She hadn't heard her mother's midnight screams
in a few months, and her parents certainly seemed to fight a lot
less than before.

"What can we do? What can we do?" Mrs. Hanson was grasping at the
wispy bits of grey that fell on her face. She was speaking
hysterically.

"Mother, go to bed. I'll make you a cup of warm milk and maybe
that will help you to sleep," Lena found she felt decisive and
firm before her mother's helpless state.

"There now," she said tucking her mother in." We'll figure it out
in the morning." And she watched over her mother, and held her
hand, until the tired old, young woman fell asleep.

As soon as her deep breathing indicated a deep state of sleep,
Lena laid her mother's hand down on the bed and went back out to
the barn.

She saddled up Red Beauty, and led him out of the barn and
through the fence into the pasture. She mounted him easily with
one movement, and then took him galloping out behind the wheat
fields.

The moon was high and full that night and it was deep spring. The
creek was full and high and she could see by the moonlight the
shadows of the minnows that were newly spawned darting about in
the blue water.

Red Beauty whinnied and again they took off, galloping across the
countryside in the moonlight, the girl with her blonde hair
streaming out behind her, and the red stallion, his mane sweeping
her face.

They came back to the gully where it winded further on and made a
pool of water. The stallion bent down his long neck for a drink
and Lena slipped off him.

While he was drinking Lena went under him and started stroking
his balls and the furry sheath that housed his penis. She placed
her lips on the furry hair and kissed the sheath, pressing hard
with her lips. She felt the mouth of the sheath open and the cock
begin to protrude. She slavered over the growing, emerging cock
with her tongue until it was fully-grown. It looked like a flame
or a wet tongue, except that it was about seventeen inches long.

"Mmmmmmmm," she groaned. "Beauty, Red Beauty," she whispered
squeezing the long hard wet dick with her hands, and the horse
whinnied and went up on his two front legs while she held on.

She laughed and slipped off her jeans. Her hands clinging to the
stirrups, and her legs wrapped around the stallion's back legs,
she eased her sore pussy over the long cock. It touched bottom in
her before it was halfway in.

Again the horse whinnied and went up on his hind legs as the
obsessed girl rocked up and down over the slick horsecock. The
long slick wet thing soothed the cunt which had been violated
only hours before. The horse brought her to heights and depths of
orgasmic pleasure such as normal women do not dream of. She clung
with her thighs to the horse's penis and slid it in and out of
her, allowing her uninhibited groans of pleasure to rise from the
flat plain straight into the starry sky and up to the full moon.

"Jesus Fucking H. Christ," came a voice in the darkness.

Lena froze in her clasp on the underside of the horse. The horse
too sensed the stranger's presence, for he froze and a frightened
sound escaped from between his flared nostrils.

"Why it's Lena! Roland Hanson's daughter!" and a long amazed
whistle followed.

Lena had fallen to the ground and she lay still now, abject and
humiliated.

The man, when he came over to look at her, was Brad King.

He stood over her, looking down, surprise in his eyes. He bent
down and helped her sit up, supporting her shoulders with his
knees. He pulled her jeans up over her crotch, trying not to look
at the white semen, horse semen, flowing all over her thighs.

"Jeesus Christ," he said again. "On her Daddy's stallion." He
shook his head again. "Where'd you learn to do that, girl?" he
asked. She clung miserably to his arms. What would he do with her
now? Tell her father? She couldn't even think of what her father
might do to her if he knew. Killing wouldn't be enough, she knew.

"I mean I've heard tell of this sort of thing??I mean girls with
animals, horses and dogs and such, but I never really believed,"
he whistled again.

She turned to look up at him as she lay in his arms. "My father
rapes me once or twice a week," she said looking firmly into his
eyes. "And every time he does it to me, I go out in the barn
afterwards, when he's left the house to go whore-hunting in town,
and I do it with his best horse."

She looked unwaveringly at him to see how he would take it, take
the truth.

He was looking at her while she talked, but when she finished he
looked away.

"Oh lord, there's all kind of critters in this world. All kinds,
the good lord preserve us. You know, I never did like your daddy.
Cruel man, unnecessarily cruel, I always thought. With his
animals and with his wife. And with his daughter now, too, I
should have known."

He lay down on the ground beside her now and held her in his arms
as if to protect or nurse her.

"Well, what are you doing way out here in the middle of the
night, anyway, yourself, Brad King," Lena murmured in his ear.

"I was out riding myself, little honey," he said kissing her
hair. "You done wandered onto my daddy's land. I saw someone come
riding across the plain on what looked like Mr. Hanson's stallion
so I came out to investigate. You didn't even hear me ride up."
He licked the lobe of her little ear.

"Only twelve years old," he muttered to himself and shook his
head.

"Brad, if my father finds out that you and me ever lay together
like this, Brad, he'll kill me. He will. I've got to get away
from you," she said, suddenly hysterically rising.

"Wow, now there little filly," he said gently pulling her back
down to the fertile earth. "How's he gonna know, that we met way
out here?"

"I think he'd be angrier about finding out about me and you than
about me and Red Beauty. Red Beauty, at least he's his horse."

"Well now, who's gonna tell him either story? Not me. You can
trust me baby," he said moving his lips down her face until they
met her lips.

He hugged her big soft boobs against his flat hard chest, and
then unbuttoned both their shirts so he could feel her big soft
tits directly against his hairless chest Her nipples felt like
little raisins at the end of big marshmellowy mounds and he stuck
his face in one then the other like a little baby at its mother's
breasts.

His dick was like a hard arrow in his pants, and he pressed his
groin against her soft stomach.

"I don't know if I should," she whimpered. She was confused now,
and didn't know who was mounting her.

"You don't know if you should?" he said, rubbing his hardened
jeans along her open yawning cunt which he had revealed by
pulling off her panties. He looked at the black gash in the big
pink pussy. There was still some creamy come floating in her
pussyhair. It was from the horse.

He unleashed his cock from his jeans and pointed it toward the
black gash in the pink, the gash that led into the dark
pussydepths.

Her legs parted willingly now, she pulled at her thighs with her
hands to open her cunt wider now for his entry.

When he plunged into her now, her clit was like a tuning fork
that has just been hit: it was vibrating and large and full of
juice. His cock was like a blade that slayed her. It passed right
over and back across and over again her throbbing clit and every
time the head of his cock pushed across her clit, slicking it as
it passed, she sank into oblivion and came, and came again.

He took his coming slowly. He kissed her lips, sucking them into
his mouth. Her lower lip was full and red and he took it between
his own thin lips as if it were a big cherry in a cocktail. Her
upper lip too he savored with his tongue and teeth. Then he
darted his tongue way into her mouth as his cock plunged into the
black cave of her cunt. Quivering it came up even harder than
before.

It was going to take a lot of fucking to fuck the hardness out of
his dick that had yearned for this little girl's pussyhood for so
long.

She opened her eyes and looked at the landscape behind her. The
moon glared eerily on the landscape. Everything seemed drenched
in the moon's silver, the fields, with their newly sown seed, the
brown earth, the newly-green trees that leaned over the creek and
the singing water of the creek itself.

"Oh look!" she cried.

Against the horizon two black horses reared up on their hind
legs. It was Red Beauty, her father's stallion, mounting Brad's
filly.

Brad halted his movement on top of her for a moment to watch the
coupling of the animals. The stallion whinnied and neighed
fiercely as he boldly threw his front hooves on the filly's
buttocks.

The filly was fierce too, as she pretended to try to pull away,
as if she didn't know what the stallion was doing or didn't want
him to do it. She made the stallion knock her with his hooves and
grasp her tighter. They could see the male's huge cock stand up
and then sink into the mare while both animals sang out a wild
fierce chorus of animal lust.

Brad stroked her clitoris and she was filled with throbbing
desire again.

This time he spared no ounce of energy as he rode his cock into
the willing girl. She encircled his back with her long lovely
legs, legs like a filly's, and she clung to him, raising her
buttocks off the ground to hang suspended from him as he bore his
cock into her pussy cunt.

His horn bore a hole into her which made her forget the her
father's sledgehammer, and also the horse's long strange cock.

Brad King fit right into her and she took one final breath and
squeezed him with all her pussy muscles and she hung on squeezing
and squeezing his cock in her pussy with all her might while he
continued his fierce plunging. Like this she brought him off. The
last plunge was into a sea of come that he left floating in the
very bottom of her cunt ...

******

"In an isosceles triangle, there are two sides of equal length
while the third side is shorter. The hypotenuse ..." Mr. Nolte
droned on in math class.

Lena shared a desk with Ellen and they passed notes under the
tabletop.

"Have you ever seen a man's thingie?" read the note from Ellen.

Lena suppressed a giggle and wrote back.

"You have? Whose?" was the reply.

"My cousin's," Lena wrote back after a moment's thought.

"I have too. This weekend. I saw Jed Raleigh's," was Ellen's
exciting news.

"How did you like it?" asked Lena.

Mr. Nolte was standing over them. "Give me the note," he said.

"Oh, no, please, Mr. Nolte, we'll stop passing them only ..."

"Give me the note."

They sullenly gave him the slip of paper they had been writing
on. They looked shamefacedly at the floor as he perused it
silently before the class and then folded it into his pocket,
blushing. He said, "Now everyone pay attention. No note passing."
And he went back to triangles.

Lena fixed her eyes on the blackboard filling up with figures,
but behind her eyes she was lost in thought. She wondered what
were the circumstances under which the skinny Ellen had seen Jed
Raleigh's cock. She wondered what his cock was like. Jed was in
the eighth grade, one year above them. He was thirteen.

Then her mind wandered to a thought of what a cock feels like
slipping inside you. Under the schoolgirl's table, a pair of
schoolgirl thighs became moist. She was wearing only a thin pair
of white cotton panties under her skirt and her own moist smell
came up to her from under the seat. She remembered Brad King's
gentle hands opening her cunt gently prior to inserting his
pleasantly-sized member into her and she recalled how it went in
and out gently, exciting her further as it moved. How they had
reached some kind of white pitch together, at the same time, as
the horses moved violently on the horizon.

Then a shudder went through her body as her mind could not help
recalling a very different kind of sex: the brutality and fear of
her father's bondage in the barn. The class was interrupted at
that point by a knock at the door. Everyone's failing attention
was awakened and turned to the door.

Through the window they saw a scruffy contorted face.

Mr. Nolte went to the door and stuck his head out into the hall.
Then he turned back into the room and called, "Lena Hanson."

She heard her name being called as if through a mist and just
barely managed to revive herself from her dreams and say "Yes?"

"You are dismissed from class. Go into the hall. Your father has
come for you. You have to go home," said Mr. Nolte.

Was he laughing at her? Having intercepted that note he must
know, Lena felt. She felt as if the whole class were laughing at
her, as if they all must know what this strange midday summons
from her father meant. What could she say or do? Refuse to go?
Announce to the class: my father has come to get me and take me
somewhere where he can rape me? Who would believe her? And she
would never have the nerve to do it anyway. At least not while
her father was there watching and waiting for her. He would
surely kill her once he got her away, if he heard her say
something like that.

Miserably, she got up from her little desk. Ellen clung to her
hand under the table then let her go. Ellen's kind eyes didn't
look her in the face. Ellen surely knows, she thought. Ellen
senses it, even if she doesn't know exactly. She knows something
horrible is wrong.

She felt the eyes of the entire class on her back as she walked
to the door, and it was almost a relief to escape their curious
eyes and confront her father in the hall. "Why have you come for
me?"

"Don't ask questions." He took her by the hand and started down
the hall.

"And the hypotenuse of this isosceles triangle is ...Ellen?" she
heard Mr. Nolte's voice getting fainter.

It was very strange to be walking through the school halls with
her father. It was like having one foot in the grave she enjoyed
some freedom from fear, freedom from attack. They walked together
down the well-lit corridors. There were pictures done by the
second graders hanging on the walls in the main lobby.

Mr. Hanson nodded to the school principal, Mr. Rice, a big, bald,
paunchy man in a cowboy hat. Lena's father sold his heifers to
Mr. Rice, who kept a small herd of livestock.

Outside in front of the school, her father stopped to talk to
Jimmy Nails, the local cop who played cards with her father on
the weekends.

"Mighty nice day, Roland," said Jimmy, rocking back on the heels
of his black leather boots. He was in his blue uniform, and had
his cop car pulled up to the curb.

"Yep," said her father, holding her by the hand, but stopping to
chew some tobacco with his friend.

"That sure is a pretty little girl you've got there. How old are
you now, Lena?" the cop said patronizingly.

"Twelve," said Lena sullenly.

"She'll be thirteen in August," said her father squeezing her
hand tightly.

"She sure is right pretty. Sure is. Pretty soon all the little
boys in her class will be wanting to take her to see the double
features down to the Rialto," Jimmy the cop spoke about her as if
she were absent.

"She's too young for such things," said her father spitting.

"Well, I don't know about that," said Jimmy leering and looking
frankly at her well- developed bust.

"Well, I do know and I'm her father so I guess I get some say so
in what she is allowed to do and what she is not. And seeing boys
is not allowed. Come along honey," he said dragging her into his
waiting pick-up. "We got some chores we got to do today," he
added.

"Father knows best," said Jimmy grinning and he put on his dark
sunglasses and climbed into his own car.

"Please follow us," Lena was praying. "Please be suspicious and
follow us and see what he tries to do to me, and rescue me and
put him in jail, or me in jail or just something, anything, to
keep him off of me!" were Lena's hysterical thoughts. But as they
pulled out onto the highway that led to the old abandoned shack
by Neversink Creek, one glance in the rear view mirror told her
that Jimmy the cop had had no such thoughts as following them on
his mind.

Her panic grew as they rode silently in the car. She couldn't
even go to the police for protection from her father. They would
never believe her either. Half of them were her father's buddies,
and they would only pat her on the head for making up stories and
return her directly to him. He threw her skirts up around her
waist so he could look at he r thighs as they drove. He put one
big hand over her thighs and tweaked at the flesh that lay under
her panties. Her soft white thigh flesh seemed to pull away from
his coarse intruding hands, but he didn't seem to notice. He was
breathing heavily as they turned onto the dirt road that led down
to the creek.

He offered no explanation as to why he hadn't been able to wait
for her after school, as he had other times. Why he had to add
the extra humiliation of removing her from class before
everybody's watching eyes. It was as if he wanted her to have to
bear this extra alienation, of not being able to explain why her
father came to remove her from school. He was making her feel
different, and there was no one to whom she could tell her story
when he stopped the car and jumped out of the cab, she remained
inside. He had to come around to her side, open her door and pull
her out. She clung to the gearshift, and then to the door,
screaming, "Please, father, no!"

He slapped her face a few times until she was silenced, then
unwrapped her fingers from his car's door and slung her over his
back. He carried her down to the water's edge.

It was a beautiful day, one of the first days of summer. The
water in the creek was high and spangled with sunlight. The
leaves were almost full-grown on the trees that hung over the
water, and they dappled the water with their shadows. There were
flies in the air, just spawned by the earth overnight, it seemed,
and Lena's eyes caught sight of a dragonfly, the first she had
seen this year, glinting just above the surface of the stream's
rippling water. Her father threw her down on the grass- covered
bank and fell on top of her.

"You're making me think of you all the time, you little cunt," be
whispered hoarsely in her ear. "Can't even work, now. Have to
ride the tractor, do the planting, oversee the crew of boys who
are helping me, but I can't, and it's your fault." He stuck his
thick, tobacco-stained tongue in her ear and explored all the
crevices of her soft pink seashell.

She felt the tongue like an unpleasant animal, a worm or a conch,
worming down into the canal of her ear and it stirred her
unpleasantly.

"In the yard I watch you bending over to feed the chickens, in
the barn where I watch you squat on a stool to milk the cows. I
get jealous when I watch you stroke their flanks. The cows. I get
jealous when I see you touching the fucking cows." Now he was
exposing her breasts to the open sun.

They were beautiful, firm, oblong-shaped, and white as fresh
cream with brown nipples like the nougat inside of a candy bar.
He slobbered his mouth all over these mounds of flesh, taking the
nipples between his teeth and pulling lightly on them, watching
as he raised the whole tit to a standing position by pulling on
the nipple. He had the playfulness of a child today as he laughed
gleefully when he released the nipples and the breasts fell back
onto her chest like water balloons thrown gently on the ground.
They did not burst, they rolled around and resumed their former
shape. He cradled the boob weight in his hands and looked off in
the distance as if her were judging the weight of one of his
prize heifers.

He rolled her over on her hands and knees so he could look at her
boobs hanging down. They almost touched the earth. The nipples
were distended now, from his biting them and from hanging down,
and he reached under her to cup his hands around her young tits
and sway them and nip at them with his fatherly fingers.

"All the time. All the time," he kept whispering hoarsely in her
ears like a gadfly, like a record, unrelated to what was
happening which she nevertheless could not turn off. "I keep
thinking of you, seeing you, seeing the shape of your tits in the
mounds of earth the tractor drops seeds into, seeing your hair
flowing over your boobies when I turn on the hose and wash down
the sacks of feed. I can't even look a cow in the ass, I think of
your sweet pink cuntflesh between those white thighs of yours,
and I want ?m. I want ?m so bad I can't think, I can't work,
can't do nothing but come to school and get you to take you away
where I can put my hands all over you alone and touch you
everywhere and make my mind stop trying to remember you.

His hands were all over her now, up her dress, around her waist,
slipping under her panties, scratching through her pussy hair.

"Father!" she tried to stop him. They were right out in broad
daylight now, after all. Someone might come along. She hoped
someone would. But maybe now, in broad daylight, he might listen
to reason, come to his senses.

"Father, it's against the Bible. Don't you know this is a sin?
You can't fornicate with your own daughter. You'll make the sky
go black some day with your dreadful deeds. Father, go to the
women in town, go to mother, go to anyone else, but please leave
me alone, I beg of you. If you can't bear to see me around the
house without wanting me, I'll go away. I'll go away somewhere so
you won't have to look at me, but please don't."

He didn't even hear her last words, though he was laughing at her
protests. He had gotten his forefinger in her slit now and he was
rubbing back and forth feeling the wetness increase. He moved his
forefinger up to rub the swelling mound of flesh between her
labia and then he slid the finger back down to the hole and
entered her youthful love-cave.

Her clit too was swelling and throbbing despite herself, and she
was all wet now. The wall-to-wall quilting of her twelve-year-old
cunt was slimy with female love muck and he laughed as he
withdrew his horny finger and heard a sigh from her.

"I thought you didn't like it," he said, raising himself up off
her for a minute to unbuckle his pants.

"Uh," she opened her eyes. For a moment she had imagined that it
was Brad King who had been tickling her excitement up the
crevasse between her legs. Why did women have to have this stupid
hole right up the very center of them, she thrashed bitterly as
she knew the inescapable truth that it was her father, his breath
sour on her lips, who was pressing his huge member over her face.

Why did he like it in her mouth? It was so incredibly disgusting
this way. To have to take your father's big hard dick into your
mouth. He forced it in, pulling her lips and teeth apart the way
he would to examine a horse. His balls knocked against her chin.
She spit and choked but still he did not relent as he shoved his
long pointed spear into her soft throat. He loved to watch his
cock disappear into the face of his daughter. He loved making
women eat it. He loved watching it disappear into the hole in the
middle of their faces, even more than he enjoyed sinking it into
their cuntholes.

This way he could be sure only he got the real pleasure. He
closed his eyes and sank it deep in her throat again, holding her
by her luscious boobies. Her hair flowed over the riverbank and
into the water. He dreamed of being able to tie her up down here
so that whenever he felt like sinking it in her, he could just
come down here, open his pants, spread her legs or force her to
open her mouth, and sock it to her.

She gagged on the wicked cone thrusting down her throat as if it
wanted to be completely swallowed. The thrusting quickened which
meant he was near his coming. She shuddered and retched at the
thought but there was no way of escaping taking his semen down
her throat. He held her firmly pinned by her arms and by the way
he sat on her upper chest. She felt like a doll, limp, just a
bunch of boobs, a mouth with a flowing dick in it, and somewhere
down there, a mass of cuntflesh which was not at present being
used.

He felt his tide rising in him, and jiggled her boobies in his
hands behind him, like melons they were, and jogged up and down
faster on top of her face, sinking his cock into her small
compliant mouth??open like as if it were a dickhole, made
expressly for his dick. hHe kept bouncing it into her and the tip
of his cock felt the smooth firm slimy quilted throat tissue,
while the shaft of his cock felt the pulling of the walls of her
mouth as he yelled, "Suck me off! Suck me off you bitch!" and
gave her tits a hard tweak.

He sank it into her and then was riding on a floating ocean of
come. The excretion filled her throat while the penis continued
to sink in her throat, and she didn't want to swallow but she
couldn't get up, and lying down the ugly foul syrup began to
slide down her throat while he whipped his now soft penis against
the walls of her mouth.

He left the soft dick slip out of her mouth while she sat there
grimacing and swallowing and spitting up. He laughed at her. She
had semen all over her lips, and some even on her nose. Her nose
and chin were all red and chaffed from where his groin had rubbed
against her.

"My little come machine. All my very own. No one else is allowed
to use it. Only me," he was joking with himself. He seemed to be
very proud of his personal property.

Lena was relieved that at least it was through for one day. Would
she be allowed to return to school now, she wondered. No, he
wouldn't do that. He lay down on top of her, his back against her
stomach, so that she couldn't get up, and he enjoyed the
sunshine. He played with his dick in the breeze, trying to stand
it up and laughing when it fell over, waving away the flies.

Beneath him, the back of her head was being ground into a rock,
and his weight bore down cruelly on her hipbones. She could feel
the copper studs of his jeans digging into the soft flesh of her
belly. With his boots he amused himself by pushing her legs
farther and farther apart and thought about his daughter's cunt.

Her cunt was sweet, and so young and tender, it reminded him of
the yellow-green buds coming out on the trees now. Her cunt was
like a sour apple that you wanted to bite into just to taste the
sourness exploding on your tongue. It made you wince, the taste
was so wry.

He sprang off of her, and then pulled her up off the ground. She
was facing him, staring at the big ugly thing that was achingly
big again. He needed to be satisfied again, he needed to be
relieved of that wad of desire and passion that was pushing out
of his jeans and the only thing could relieve that pushing
passion was to find a hole sufficiently enticing to him.

He tied her to the trunk of a willow tree whose branches almost
came down to the ground. He tied her like a heifer, with a rope
around her neck, but he fixed the rope to the tree only three
feet off the ground, forcing her to bend over. Lena was only five
feet tall.

"Papa, no! No, Papa! Please! Please let me go! Please don't.
Please! I'm scared! I'm frightened! You shouldn't do this! God
will hate you! Please! NO! PLEASE!" she cried, tied to the tree
stooping over.

He laughed. She sounded like a heifer braying at being separated
from its mother. He lifted her skirt and watched her shake and
cry in her panties for a while. Women's underwear always
fascinated him, and now he was curious to watch her ass move in
her child's white cotton panties. They came up to her waist, and
they had a damp, darker spot at the crotch where her female
secretions gathered, which no washing could entirely eradicate.

Stooping over, her breasts were hanging again, and it was almost
with tenderness that he made her remove her blouse. Her boobies
hung down like a cow's waiting to be milked and he crawled
underneath her to swat at and suck and play with them while he
put the toe of his shit-encrusted boot at the crotch of her
panties and forced the panties into the entry of her cunt. The
toe of his boot went part way in too, and she sobbed and shook
while he thus abused her, all of which made her fine large
boobies shake like jello. He had a weird thought: he wished he
were a woman so he could try to insert her boobies up his cunt,
and he thought if he were a woman that is want he'd want to do.

He slid out from under her and stood up behind her. He pulled her
panties down to he knees and pulled her dress over her head so he
wouldn't be distracted by her boobies and her cries anymore. He
would just concentrate on her rear dark meat. And it was fine. He
just watched and surveyed it for awhile, allowing his excitement
and desire to grow unbearably.

In her fear and far-advanced state of hysteria, she couldn't
stand still. Tied by the neck, all she could do was shake her ass
like a cow, and he watched, fascinated, by the movement of the
body. The flesh flowed into her waist, making shadows there, and
then spread way out again into a fine pair of female hips, smooth
and curvaceous. The curve continued on into a well-rounded ass,
flowing up, out and over; and sliding into the all-enticing black
crack of her ass.

Her pussy hair peeped out between her thighs and he brought her
hands around and attached them to her moons and made her pull on
them so that the mound of cuntflesh too protruded. It was pink
and gaping. The labia looked like a little woman's little mouth
pursed in a kiss. Her slender little fingers pulling on her
fleshy behind pointed in the direction in which he was to go.

"Pull more! Pull harder! Stretch open your little hiney, honey,
so that Daddy can put his cock right into your cunt. There, how
does that feel?" And he stuck the slick wet head of his cock
right up against the mouth of her open, offered, gaping pussy.

Her hands on her ass, her head tied close to the tree, she felt
her father's organ enter her cunt, forced open against her will.
She thought for a split second of an hour ago, sitting just like
the other kids in a schoolroom, at a desk, passing notes and
giggling, learning about triangles.

Now the shaft of her father's cock was slowly forcing its way up
her cunt, under a willow tree by the river, while she, the part
of her that was really Lena, the part of her that had a name and
thoughts and reason, was tied by the head to the tree. She felt
split in two.

As if there were two things going on: Lena, the reasoning part of
her, was swooning in shame and humiliation and despair. Lena's
cunt lived on top of her legs which slipped farther and farther
apart to accommodate the huge apparatus her father had hanging
between his legs. His cock and balls were larger than Brad
King's. She really had to open her legs wide to get him in, and
she had to pull apart her buttocks to allow him the kind of entry
he needed. It was better than simply having him shove it up her
and tear her apart along the way.

He loved to sink into cunt outside in nature. He loved to sink
into cunt so young and so taboo as his own daughter that even his
friends, if they knew, would be shocked and disapproving. And
envious. He wished Jimmy Nails could see him now, or that fat
paunchy self-righteous school principal, Mr. Rice. He imagined
Lena's math teacher, Mr. Nolte, bald at thirty-five, saying, "Mr.
Hanson, I really cannot let you take your daughter out of class
unless I know what you intend to do with her."

And then his wide eyes stared as he saw her stoop over under the
willow tree and part her ass so her cunt would get open and wet,
so that her father could stuff his very willing and big cock into
her, and into her, and into her again.

He loved to withdraw it all the way and then jam it back all the
way in, feeling the whole delight of re-entry from the tip to the
bottom of the shaft again. He felt her clit go by??it felt like
buttered bread, sliced, and his cock felt like the knife that was
buttering it. He felt like a creature, half-man, half-beast,
fucking his own twelve-year-old daughter. He felt like an old
dog, and it was like an old dog, hoary, dirty, crusty with old
come, lots of old come from lots of women, when he took a deep
breath and shot his wad straight up into her cunt. He grabbed his
shaft and his whole body rode his cock to glory.

He left her there that day, and many other days following. When
he left her, he tied her to the tree more securely with her legs
wrapped around it. He would come back at the end of the day to
fuck her some more. He just couldn't get enough of her.

She missed the last day of school because he wouldn't let her go
in.

The hours she spent tied to the tree, her "hitching post" as her
father laughingly called it, were passed fantasizing about
revenge. How could she go on living like this? Her father thought
of her merely as a cunt, a receptacle for his male organ. Her
mind, meanwhile, held cruel thoughts of dismemberment. She
thought how she would tie him down and take the knife used for
gelding the hogs.

But then she would hear the pick-up drive up, and she was torn
between shame and anxiety and hope that it would be someone else,
wandered down to this lonely bend in the river, and relief and
disgust and shame, and hopelessness, when she would hear his
familiar grunting laugh as he raised the curtain of willow
branches to find his own personal, private cunt, tied up and
waiting to service him. It was always with a sigh of relief that
he unzipped his pants and let out the cockled creature that was
cramped in the confinement of denim.

Every night, after such days of humiliation, she went out to the
barn. Late at night when her parents were asleep, or her father
was away catting around.

Lena's mother seemed to have forgotten what she had practically
witnessed that one night when her husband had simply dragged his
daughter out to the barn. Or Mrs. Hanson's brain could not digest
the information. Perhaps she thought that she had just imagined
it, or perhaps her own personal freedom from her husband's sexual
attention, after twenty years of fear, rose above her concern for
her daughter's safety. In any case, Mrs. Hanson did not mention
the incident to either husband or daughter, and she did not ask
where Lena spent her days.

Lena was quite obsessed with fucking Red Beauty now. And she also
had turned to Black Pride for additional fucking-revenge. The
horses had a strange partnership with her. Black Pride looked on
with horse-like curiosity, his black eyes glinting in the
starlight of the barn, as the young girl slipped off all her
clothes to meet her animal lover in the nude. She brushed Red
Beauty all over with the currycomb to make him beautiful and get
him in the mood. The horse's sweat from the day flicked off onto
her own skin and sometimes she licked the drops of horse sweat
off with her tongue, savoring the sour taste. She loved to play
with the stallion's furry sheath which housed his cock.

It was like a little furry bunting on a most slick, and unshy
animal. When the horse's penis started to protrude, called forth
by her able hands, it looked like a slick roll of candy, like the
rolls of candy she bought in the store sometimes, except that it
was much thicker. It was so slick, much slicker than a human
dick, that it was hard to hold it in her hands and she liked to
stab in into her mouth, and to think of the wonder that she held
a creature, a non-human by the cock in her mouth, and felt less
disgust than she did at the same act forced upon her by her
father's member.

Sliding Red Beauty's cock up the hole between her thighs,
completely nude, she let her hair sweep in the straw below and
she caressed her own lovely breasts.

"I hate you, I hate you," she whispered in the dark to her absent
father. "I hate you so much I prefer taking the dick of your best
horses, your horses, father, your stallions, your stallions stick
their cocks in me. I take their long wet horse dicks in my mouth
and I enjoy it more, I enjoy it! I enjoy it more than your fat,
horrid, hairy, smelly excuse for manliness could ever bring me."

Red Beauty had been mounted by her so many times that he had
evolved a way of pulling his cock in and out of her so that he
could actually come too. The slick red penis, like a dog's,
couldn't get entirely inside her, but the dick was stabbed in and
out, while she clung to his underside, spreading her legs wide.
The horse knew its own pleasure, too, she knew. For when it came,
in a rush of horsecome, it whinnied and shook, and kicked up on
its hind legs a bit, taking her for a ride and attempting to
shove it into her woman's inadequate vagina a little further,
knowing the bizarre excitation of fulfilling the sexual urge with
a creature not of your own species.

Black Pride she treated a little differently. Red Beauty looked
on curiously, and with a little jealousy, she thought, the first
time she made sexual advances to the second stallion.

Black Pride was very well hung, with balls that protruded around
the sheath of his cock. Black Pride was a more high-strung
creature, and Lena was afraid he might not allow her intimate
touch. She approached his genitals very slowly, stroking him with
the curry brush all over, first, braiding his mane, calming and
exciting him at the same time. She spoke to him, in a low,
fervent whisper, telling him the story of how her father raped
her daily, and that the fornication of beast and daughter was a
fitting revenge on a man whose soul was lower than a dog's The
horse's big white teeth grinned in his mouth and she knew he was
ready and willing and able for she saw the bright red glint of
his dick between his black balls. She slipped under his belly.
Again, he was so tall she could bend over underneath him, and she
back onto his cock, holding her cunt open with her hands, the way
her father had taught her.

She thought of her father thrusting into her as she stood bending
over, tied to the tree like an animal. It gave her pleasure to
open her cunt now to an animal tied by the neck in a stall.
Horse-cock slid into human pussy with great ease, as Red Beauty
watched from the next stall. Black Pride's cock was not quite as
long as Red Beauty's, but it was thicker by far, and she knew
greater pleasure, for he could almost put it all the way in, and
it really filled her up.

She thought of the slickness of the horses' cocks and wondered
why men's cocks weren't like that. Human male cocks were all dry,
and human males were so dumb they didn't know how to excite a
cunt to make it wet first. They just shoved their dicks in and
thought women enjoyed it!

Lena was coming with wonder at how anything less than this slick
wet fuck, in the stable perfumed with fresh straw and horse and
cow dung, could excite her. Her father's bumbling fumbles down by
the river, could not compare with the adeptness with which his
stallions, which he rode out over the plain every day, stood
still for his daughter, as she opened her cunt and spread her
legs wide and stuck her stuff down over the horse's willing cock.
She slid in and out, back and forth, up and down, feeling the
horse's delicious wet dick part her cunt down the middle like a
stripe of pleasure all down her body. When the horse creamed
inside her, she creamed too, and when she put her panties on to
sneak back to the house, horse come from her cunt filled her
panties with cream as she walked.

******

The day her period was a week overdue and she knew she wasn't
going to get it was the day she boarded a bus for Iowa City and
ran away from home.

She had been a woman now for a few months and had tried to do
some reading on the subject of prevention of pregnancy and on the
biological procedure of impregnating a woman. Biology class was
vague on the subject, and the information she could glean from
the pussyfooting texts in the school library was not very
informative.

But when her period showed absolutely no sign of showing up, it
did not take a doctor to fill her up with the certain knowledge
that she was pregnant.

She was frightened. What would her father do if he found out?
Would he abort her? Loose interest in her? And then of course was
the question of the child's father. She did not let her mind
touch that grim subject at all, until she had stolen her mother's
cookie jar money, all of thirty-two dollars, and walked down the
dusty road into town. Her father was out in the fields working
that morning, and her mother simply didn't notice.

She knew the stationmaster would remember that Lena Hanson had
bought a ticket for Iowa City, and that sooner or later he would
get aound to reporting it to her father, once her absence was
discovered. So she bought a ticket first for a small town near
Iowa City, and then bought another ticket on the bus for the
city. She had never been to a city before. In fact, she had never
been on a bus before, never been out of her own hometown.

Ret, her older brother, lived in Iowa City, and she thought
vaguely about trying to find him. But she wasn't sure if he would
help her, listen to her story and believe her, or simply return
her to her father. She would work out that problem when she got
there, she decided as she allowed herself to sink into free
slumber, when had she ever felt so free in her life? she wondered
in her dreams, as the bus rolled out onto the highway parting the
fields of young growing wheat.

It was with great pleasure that she opened her eyes once just as
the bus was passing her father's own fields. She could see him,
as she slumped behind the tinted window of the bus, bending over,
struggling with a root that lay in the tractor's path. She could
see the bulge of his sexual apparatus and she laughed snidely and
her hands instinctively went down protectively over her crotch
until the bus had rolled on.

The man sitting in the seat beside her raised his eyebrows at the
very luscious young girl, fully developed, with lovely breasts
and arms and thighs, holding her crotch with her hands. He turned
a page of his newspaper and decided he would talk to her later
on, for now, he saw, she had fallen asleep in the same position.

She had horrible dreams: of being in a cramped, filthy apartment
that smelled of her mother's boiled cabbage. She was lying down
with the lower half of her body naked and her knees raised as a
hideous old woman tried to extract a baby from her cunt. She was
asking the old woman if it were possible for a human girl, a
woman to become impregnated by another species, say, by a horse.
The old woman didn't answer. She just kept pulling at something
that was stuck in Lena's cunt.

Lena kept asking and asking, but all she heard was the old
woman's wheezing and cackling. Lena felt something hard, like a
hoof, kick against her stretching, straining thighs and she asked
again, "Could a woman couple with a horse and have a ..."

"Could a couple live in a house?" the man beside her was
repeating.

She wakened to find it nighttime. The bus was pulling into a
city. She knew it was a city because there was so much noise and
motion all around them, and for as far as she could see there
were bright shifting lights.

"You were talking in your sleep," the man said. "You were asking
something about if a couple could live in a house. My name's
Bill. Where are you going?"

"Um, Iowa City," she said. "To visit my relatives. Are we here,"
she turned to the window.

"Almost," he said. He was a handsome, friendly looking man. He
carried a leather attach case and he spoke to her as if she were
his age, which made her feel very grown-up. She was grown-up, she
thought ironically. She was going to have a baby, or rather, an
abortion.

"We're still in the suburbs. But we'll be in Iowa City soon. I'm
getting off there too. Will your relatives be meeting you at the
bus stop there?" he asked.

"N-no," she said.

"Then perhaps I could accompany you for a while, until they come
to pick you up. I could help you get a cab, or find a phone."

"Thanks. Maybe," she said. She had to think fast now. She didn't
know what her plans were going to be. She looked slyly at this
man named Bill now, wondering if he would help her if she
confided in him. Maybe he could tell her where she could go to
get an abortion, and how much it cost.

When they got into Iowa City proper, she allowed him to take her
into the bar across from the bus station. She had made a stop in
the ladies room and put on some make-up that a girlfriend had
given her as a joke for a birthday present last year. She had
never before had occasion to wear it.

When she came out of the bathroom, she walked over to where Bill
waited for her at the bar.

"Well," he said when he saw her. "I bet they won't even ask you
for an I.D. now."

He was right. They served her a martini, which was what he was
drinking, without carding her.

"Just how old ARE you? For the record's sake," he asked her,
whispering in her ear. In her jean skirt and red blouse and nice
sandals, all filled out with her lovely buxom, womanly form, she
looked quite adult.

"Eighteen," she said.

"That's old enough," he replied judiciously ordering two more
martinis. He knew of course that she was lying.

After a few martinis they were quite good friends, and she didn't
even flinch when he slid his hand right up her skirt to her
thighs.

"You're not new at this, are you?" he smiled. He had a cute wispy
blond mustache and he didn't seem so old to her anymore.

"What do you do?" she asked him. "Why are you in Iowa City
tonight?"

Bill said, "I'm a traveling salesman, honey. I sell soaps and
perfumes, and anything else a lady might like, door to door. Iowa
City's my home base. I've come home for a little rest spell
before hitting the road again. Do you have anywhere to sleep
tonight little honey? Looks like your folks didn't know you were
going to be on this bus."

"Look, I do need a place to stay," she admitted.

It wasn't until they had helped each other down the streets, to a
crummy side street near the train station, and up a flight of
foul-smelling stairs and into his furnished one room, that she
confessed to him her real need.

"I'm in trouble. You know, my boyfriend got me in trouble. And
I've come here to Iowa City to ... get rid of it. Can you tell me
where to go? What to do?" she asked. She didn't even sound or
feel pathetic as she asked for this stranger's help and advice.
She was sitting quite comfortably, one leg over the arm of a
moth- eaten chair, as he mixed them some more martinis in an
empty apple juice jar.

"Ah," he said debonairly. "In trouble. Boy trouble. Well, I'm
just glad to know that I'm not the first, in your case, to be
corrupting the ..." he eyed the space between her spread legs,
"morals of a minor."

"Can you help me?" she asked. She massaged her boobs under her
blouse and stretched coyly, looking at him from under lidded
eyes.

He got up and wrote down a name and address on a piece of paper.
"Take the number one bus to Grove St., about twenty minutes from
here. Say you know a friend of Gina's."

"Thanks," she said, tucking the slip of paper in her bra.

"Let's go to bed," he said.

They both climbed joyously into the big old springy double bed.
It was high off the ground and the springs were so old they
sagged all over. It was like trying to lie down in soft cheese,
and they laughed and giggled and pulled each other's clothes off.

Bill exclaimed at the softness and hugeness of her tits. Even for
an eighteen-year- old, she was well developed. He couldn't touch
her boobs enough with his face and tongue, rubbing his cheeks
against them and licking them all over. He wanted to rub his feet
on her boobs and his stomach and arms, and of course his cock
which grew hard as he rolled back and forth in the valley between
her boobs.

They kissed, their tongues exploring each other's mouths, while
she let her hands slip down and run all over his veined cock and
tickle his hairy balls. She liked to squeeze his balls in her
hand, gently, and feel the one ball roll into the other. She
wondered if she could make them switch sides.

Meanwhile, he seemed content to kiss her mouth with his tongue,
sticking it way in deep, running over her teeth.

She thought he would never turn his attention to her more
pressing parts; he avoided touching below her waist at all with
his hands. She wondered if something was wrong with him, and
checked once quickly with her eyes.

No, his penis looked all right, large and hard.

Suddenly, with the forthright understanding of a twelve-year-old,
she sat up in bed and took his head in her hands. "Haven't you
ever fucked a girl before? Is this the first time?"

He blushed in shame.

"How old are you?" she asked.

"Twenty-two," he said.

She put her tongue between her lips and shook her head in coy
dismay. Her boobs shook too in sympathy and he dove for them,
sucking them, pulling them around either side of his head.

She let him play that way a while longer, then she pushed his
hands away and said, "Are you ready?"

"Sit back there, no farther away. Way back, at the foot of the
bed there, and just watch, so you get accustomed to what you see.
When you want what you see, come and get it," she whispered.

He positioned himself at the foot of the bed as she had commanded
and watched her. She propped the pillows up behind her so she
could lie back comfortably.

She pulled down her white panties and spread her legs with her
knees bent so he could take his first look at live female pussy.
But she found that staring at his youthful fuzzy mustache
distracted her so she closed her eyes.

She was thinking of the horse, Red Beauty, and his long slimy
dick, when she parted her pussy with her fingers and showed him
her meat. She stuck two fingers in, one on each side, and brought
up for his viewing pleasure some of the redder, wetter inner
meat. She poked her fingers way deep inside. They came up and out
wet and shining and she made him lean over and sniff her fingers
and lick them.

She parted the labia to show him the sweet little canal of pussy
flesh that invited him down into the thicker meat of the love
cave. She diddled with the labia, swatting them with her fingers
so they filled with the excretion of desire and sat up bold and
hard. The little nub of flesh between the labia she tweaked with
her fingers.

"Wait, let me," he said. And he followed her directions like a
willing pupil. She had creamed and creamed again under his deft
fingers when he finally withdrew his sticky hands, and said, "I
want it now."

"Take it baby, it's all yours," she said. And she held her cunt
parted with her fingers for him as he brought his dry big cock to
her opening. At first touch his cock became wet with her
cunt-wetness and the big bulbous head of his cock started to
slide right into her cuntmeat, like a kid being pushed off a
slide.

He sank into her, and his cock parted her warm meat like a knife
sinking into tender steak. He couldn't believe that it was his
cock, his own aching, denied member, that could do so much so
easily to this yielding pussy beneath him.

She WANTED him to stick his fingers in her as he stuck his big
cock-finger in and out of her, she wanted him to smell the stale,
fishy odor of her cunt. He could smell it as he turned away from
kissing her mouth to stare down at the big animal??the red dick,
that was taming her and making her melt like chocolate left out
in the sun.

It was so different to come into a girl's pussy after a lifetime
spent coming in his own hand. Her pussy was so ... soft and
enclosed and slippery. She gripped his dick with her pussymuscles
tighter than he could ever grip with his hand, and she didn't let
go. It felt like some creature had attached itself to him and was
sucking on him, and he let her pussy suck and suck and suck him
until he lost control and spurted his thick white cream into the
deep pussy-smelling cunt.

They both sighed with pleasure, and soon after began touching
again. He just could not get enough of her breasts, and he loved
to watch her open her cunt to him from all different angles. He
couldn't believe a woman would get on her hands and knees and let
him look straight at her open cunt and her ass. It turned him on.

In the morning neither of them was very rested. Nevertheless, at
noon, he swatted her out of bed. He had to report to his office,
and she had to go take care of her business.

Gina was his sister, it turned out, and the abortion would cost
one hundred bucks. Lena almost cried when she heard this. Bill
had told her it might be expensive, but he hadn't known what the
current going price was. The price was always changing depending
on the current status of the anti-abortion laws in the state. She
cried in Bill's arms that night, and he stroked her hair and told
her not to worry.

"But where am I going to get a hundred dollars?" she sobbed. "I
don't have any money left."

"You can get a job he told her," trailing his fingers in her
cunt. He was quite bold now.

"A job doing what? I can't do anything," she said, writhing with
pleasure.

"They need a girl, to waitress, at the cafe down the street," he
suggested, placing his mouth on her cunt and trying the pleasures
of eating out a young girl for the first time in his life. His
tongue slipped way down deep inside her and she cried out in
pleasure. It was like a little dick, except much more acrobatic
than a dick, slipping and sliding inside her now, like a seal. He
stuck one or two fingers inside her now too, while he continued
the manipulations with his tongue. One finger plied inside her
cunt, making her clit stand up tall and salute, while another
lesser-privileged finger, stayed on duty at the fleshy mound
between her labia making her come in two ways at once.

She couldn't let such sincerity go unnoticed. She promptly sat
up, turned around and licked his hard cock with her hard,
flattened tongue. She licked the cock starting at the bulbous
head and straight down the underside of it, holding the pleased
creature between steady fingers. After such rubbing had
strengthened the hardness of the cock even more, making it stand
up even straighter, she placed her lips over the top of the
penis, so that the slick head of the dick slid in and out of her
mouth while her hands frenzied him up and down.

Her fingers pumped the white cream up the shaft while her soft
firm lips sucked the stuff out of him and slurped it up.

The next morning she went down the street to go to work. The
train station district was rough and dirty, and she only wore an
apron for two hours before she turned it back in and walked down
the street stumbling and crying She couldn't make change fast
enough for the rough customers, and she dreaded their snide
remarks and pinches on her behind. She was not cut out to be a
waitress and she'd made only a quarter in tips. At that rate,
she'd have the baby before she could get the abortion.

She waited for Bill in his room all that day. He came home with
bad news. He was leaving for Tulsa, Oklahoma the next morning. He
assured her that she could stay in his room in the meantime.

He took her out that night to cheer her up. He'd just gotten
paid. He took her to one club and then another that he knew. They
ended the night in a place one flight down where the drinks were
cheap and the clientele bawdy, drunk and bizarre.

Women were dressed up in plumes and sequins and tight gowns and
they sat all over the men and danced with them as if they were
making love. The men drank and roared and were loud with their
lewd jokes. There was an act coming on and everyone was waiting
for it with great anticipation.

"From Mexico, Tequila," Lena heard one man say to another. "Girl
does it with a donkey!!!"

"Really, man? Shit. Women are disgusting. Shit. That's one thing
I can't wait to see!!" replied his friend, a hairy man with a big
stain down the front of his white shirt.

"I wonder what she gets paid for doing it," said Bill at her ear.

Lena wondered too and already a plan was forming in her head. She
didn't say anything about it to Bill. But she waited with
interest for the act to begin too.

The act, when it finally happened, was very disappointing. At
least Lena thought so. The crowd didn't seem to be well versed in
the art of fucking an animal, so they didn't seem to notice how
Consuela, the Mexican senorita, faked it.

Maybe they noticed and didn't care, pondered Lena, sipping her
drink and watching Bill's face as it grew red with lasciviousness
and he gripped her thigh. Maybe the crowd felt they got what they
paid for when they got excited by the mere idea of a woman
fucking a donkey.

For all Consuela did was come out in a kinky costume of leather,
and high-heeled leather boots. She wore a mantilla in her hair,
and a veil, and she did a striptease. Paring down slowly, in time
to rhythmic music, to a black bra that revealed more of her long
sleek boobies than it covered, and a g-string that split open her
cunt and disappeared between her buttocks behind, she was quite
sexy-looking, Lena had to admit.

But Lena was more interested, professionally, in the donkey. It
was brought on and tethered to a post at the beginning of the act
when Consuela started to strip. She directed her striptease at
the donkey, but he didn't seem to notice or care when she spread
her legs in front of his nose and played with her cunt for him.

Lena couldn't even see that the donkey, a dirty, but not old
thing, got hard.

Then after much splitting of her cunt and her ass, and playing
with her tits for the audience's sake, Consuela sat down on the
donkey's back, her open cunt flat against his hide, and rode him
around back and forth on the stage while she squirmed and let on
that even this felt good.

Finally, as the hoots and hisses of the crowd urged her on, she
crawled beneath the grey creature and locked her legs up around
his back. Her back lay on the floor and she pretended to touch
the donkey's genitals with her hands. She smiled a big wet grin
at the audience and said, "Oh, he is so big. I want his
donkey-dick in me." And as the audience whistled and yelled, she
moved her hips up as if she were inserting a dick in her, and
then she moved back and forth. But all the action was really
hidden from view. It was just a simulation, Lena decided, though
Consuela brought the house down with applause. She went through
the tables after that, in her g-string and bra, collecting tips
in a hat.

"How did you like that?" Bill asked afterwards, as they made
their way home supporting each other through the hot dry streets.

"It was okay," said Lena nonchalantly.

"Think you'd ever like to do it with a donkey?" he asked.

"Nope," she said.

He left the next morning for Tulsa saying she was welcome to stay
until he got back and he was sure she'd find some way to make
money. She kissed him goodbye and then went back to bed. That
afternoon she managed to let a shop clerk allow her to buy some
clothes; a pair of sexy panties, black with a slit at the crotch,
and a bra with open holes for the nipples to slip through, on
credit.

She took these with her back to the Black Pussycat, the bar where
the donkey act was playing. She knocked on the basement door and
was told the Black Pussycat didn't open until ten.

"I'm here to see Consuela," she said, and finally she was
admitted after she told the voice she had some money for
Consuela.

The Mexican girl, (Lena doubted whether she was really even
Mexican), was sitting in her dressing room eating dinner. She
listened curiously to the strange girl's proposal to take over
her act for a few nights.

"How much do you make a night?" Lena asked.

"I make about fifty bucks a night," Consuela blew blue smoke out
of her reddened lips. She was dressed in a torn and dirty silk
kimono and she sat amid a dressing room full of clothes: feather
boas, more dirty silk kimonos, g-strings in all colors and the
like.

"The bar gives me twenty-five and I make the rest in tips,"
Consuela said. "I'll give you the twenty-five bucks every night
for a week, if you'll let me do the act and collect all the
tips," the confident Lena said.

"How do I know you can handle this act?" asked Consuela coolly.
This girl looked mighty young to her.

"Where's your donkey? I'll show you." said Lena.

Consuela took Lena around to the back where there was a shed in
the yard. The donkey, whose name was Pepe, was in there munching
on his dinner.

With one adept movement, Lena dropped her panties and lifted her
skirt. Then she was down on the ground under Pepe. Her hands
quickly, gently stroked his furry sheath, so much smaller than
the cock-holders of her beloved stallions back home.

Before the donkey could realize that someone new was playing with
him, his sheath had released his tiny little cock, all slick and
red like a stallion's, but so much smaller!

Lena laughed at the thought of how cushy this job would be, as
she relaxedly pulled her cunt up over the donkey's cock and began
going up and down.

Consuela stared wide-eyed and finally said, "Okay! Okay! My god,
you can stop now! I believe you can do the act!"

Lena dropped back down to the ground and rolled out from under
the donkey. Pepe seemed to look at her with some malevolence in
his red donkey eyes, because she had excited him so far, more
than he had been excited in a long time, as Consuela did not
allow him to mate with females of his kind while they were on the
road, and yet she had not brought him to ejaculation.

Lena laughed and patted him on the head. "I'll see you tonight
Pepe. You'll get another chance." She shook hands with Consuela
on the deal, and then Consuela took her to meet the proprietor of
the house and explain the change in the act for the next week to
come.

That night, or rather the next morning, for the donkey act didn't
go on until one in the morning, Lena was all set. She was a
little nervous, she had to admit, because she had never performed
in front of people before, not even in a school play.

But she reminded herself what the money was for: an abortion, and
freedom, a beginning of a new life of independence and freedom,
far away from the man who first poured a male's smelly corruption
into her body and left her with no peace in life.

Lena began her act differently than Consuela. Lena came on in a
filmy black nightie that just barely came down to the top of the
black briefs. She wore high black heels and she pretended to be
waiting for her husband to come home. She pretended to be dusting
her home with Consuela's big black feather duster, and she raised
her black negligee and dusted her big swaying boobs while the
audience whistled and licked its lips. Then she bent over and
showed the crowd the split in her black panties and she pretended
to dust what lay between the split. She indicated to the audience
that she sure wished her husband would come home because she
wanted to ... and she made gestures with the handle end of the
duster which left no doubt about what she wanted to do.

The crowd roared with laughter when the donkey walked on stage
and Lena pretended to express love and delight that her darling
husband was home. She caressed the donkey's face and ears,
murmuring "Pepe" in his scruffy ears.

She removed the nightie and swung her breasts before the donkey.
The audience loved the way her dusky nipples hung out, exposed,
at the end of her long white tits, still partially encased in the
lacy black brassiere.

But the crowd was getting restless. They were urging her on.

She winked at them and sat down behind the donkey, with her knees
spread. The audience couldn't see her head then, concealed behind
the animal, but they could see, quite clearly, one of her little
white hands as it massaged first the hairy sheath of the animal's
genitals, and then the slickened red dick as it grew and grew out
of the dull fur. The audience clapped louder and louder as the
donkey dick grew.

The audience could also see quite clearly what she was doing with
her other hand, which was sunk deep into her cunt. They could
watch her rooting in and playing with herself.

One man couldn't restrain himself (the music too was very slow
and rhythmic) and he ran up to the edge of the stage and put his
hand out to her pussy. His arm didn't reach though and someone
pulled him down.

Now it was time to do her stuff. The donkey's cock was fully
erect.

She slid her body entirely underneath him and then, with the
audience's eyes full on the erect red cock, she grasped the
creature between her legs and slowly inserted the wet dick up her
thighs, into her cunthole which she held open for it.

The audience was entirely silent as, as if with one pair of eyes,
they watched the slimy red donkey cock disappear into the cunt of
the long-titted woman.

She slid back and forth on it, allowing the red slimy erection to
make itself seen by the audience each time, before she slid back
down on it, and each time the audience cheered. With one hand she
massaged the belly of the animal, to calm him and make him stand
still while she did the fucking.

Now she was moving, sliding, up and down very fast. It didn't
feel like much to her. It felt like Bill's little finger. But the
audience loved it and so did Pepe because suddenly she felt a
little squirt of hot juice and the donkey had come inside her on
the last plunge.

Immediately she jumped and parted her cunt to let the crowd see
the white donkey semen slipping out of her red cunt and across
the slit of her black panties.

They cheered. Consuela, watching from the wings, clapped.

Someone threw her a rag, and she wiped herself. Then she
descended down into the pit where the drinkers were, to talk with
them, and let some of the more well- dressed men stick a finger
or two up her now clean cunt, while she collected the greenbacks
in an old top hat she had found in Consuela's dressing room.