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Tish
by Realoldbill (address withheld)

***

A Southern girl survives kidnapping and rape, but 
barely. (M+/F-teen, nc, rp, inc, 1st)

***

Tish Magill woke with a tremor, one hand buried in her 
groin and the other folded beneath her breasts as the 
frightening dream faded away. She rolled to her back, 
stretched and heard her bedroom door click closed. She 
gasped and sat up, letting the light covers fall from 
her lush body. There at her bedside stood her handsome 
brother, naked and aroused, a trick he had played on her 
a dozen times. She found it hard not to look at his huge 
phallus.

"Go 'way," she hissed, swatting at his enormous prick 
which seemed to jut out and up at least a foot from his 
hairy groin.

"The girl's in daddy's bed, sucking like a drainage 
pump. Come on, sweetheart, do me the favor. You're so 
good at it."

"I ought to be, many times as I've done it." She 
stretched her arms above her head, thrusting her full 
breasts hard against her flimsy nightgown and then 
shaking them from side to side. "But I can't, not this 
morning. I should be dressed. Harmon's going to be here 
any minute."

"That faggot. You'd leave me to take care of this 
beautiful thing with my own hand? Lick it at least." He 
grasped it and shook it from side to side.

Tish rolled from her bed, ignored her pleading brother, 
pulled her gown over her head and hurried to her basin, 
splashed water on her face and then sat on the commode 
to relive herself while she brushed her long and curly 
hair. Her brother stalked from the room, his straining 
ram well out before him. She dressed quickly, a smile on 
her face. She enjoyed tempting and refusing her handsome 
brother; in fact, she got pleasure for any male she 
could tempt and thwart.

"He's here," said her maid who entered from the side 
door of her huge bedroom.

"Help me with my boots," said the girl as she tied back 
her honey gold hair. Seeing the black girl reminded her 
of yesterday's visit to the breeding shed with her 
father. She had watched two pale young girls, both of 
them, so her father claimed, her half-sisters, being 
impregnated by the plantation's prime breeders and then 
saw a half-dozen other women getting humped by the pair 
of boys and two other big men with equally rigid prongs.

The image of those dripping rods of man-meat were burnt 
into her memory as well as of the pleasure the women 
seemed to be enjoying. The fair-skinned girls, her 
father said, were rejects from the plantation's breeding 
program.

"Shoot," said her proud father as he stood with his arm 
about her slim shoulders, "those boys can do a dozen 
`fore they're spent. Look at the size of those horns, 
those magnificent balls. Ain' they something. How'd you 
like to have one of those hoe handles in your little 
treasure box?" He chuckled and squeezed. Tish knew that 
he and his father plus a few of their friends were the 
only men to mount the pale skinned girls kept in a 
separate part of the quarters, girls that brought a 
premium price in the slave markets. They had never bred 
a blonde but after four or five generations, they had 
several girls that could easily pass for white and did.

"Oh Daddy," she had squealed. "How awful." But in her 
heart, she wondered what it would feel like. She longed 
for a man, any man, but especially a well-hung men who 
knew what he was doing, no pimple-faced boy which was 
all she dealt with at the local balls and family 
parties. She had watched their stallions cover the mares 
and, when no one was around, had caressed their mighty 
phalluses and licked the dripped heads. When she had her 
hand about her brother's throbbing member, thrills 
coursed through her young body and her tight-lipped slit 
became damp and hot. She was ready and she knew it.

Tish was a rapidly ripening fifteen-year-old, her 
father's only white daughter, and the apple of his eye. 
As she stood in her knee-high boots and tucked her 
silken shirt into her tight pants, she knew she was 
beautiful, and she gloried in her ability to tease and 
attract men. Her father had told her a hundred times to 
stop riding astride and use the new saddle he had bought 
for her, but she loved the feel of a horse between her 
legs and headed down to meet her newest and most serious 
beau, a wealthy young man who had already proposed twice 
and kissed her a hundred times. 

The feel of his hands on her ripe body thrilled her, and 
she had even let him suck one of her tiny, pink nipples 
at a Christmas rout when she had worn her new gown with 
this very low bodice along with her tiny stays, just a 
waist-cincher.

Harmon Philips stood in the vestibule at the foot of the 
stairs and watched Tish descend, her young breasts 
bobbling freely and a smile on her lovely face. He felt 
his cock swelling. He kissed her hand and they hurried 
out to the stables. In a few minutes they were trotting 
along the lane and out to the county road, exchanging 
pleasantries. Harmon found it hard to take his eyes away 
from the girl's bouncing breasts and mounded thighs. Her 
tits made points in her silk shirt each time they rose.

Once out of sight of the plantation house, Tish dug in 
her knees and they galloped away, leaning forward and 
urging their skinny-legged horses on. When they eased to 
a canter and then a comfortable walk, Harmon turned 
serious and all but demanded that Tish give him an 
answer.

She laughed and said she wasn't ready to settle down and 
warm his bed. He was up in his stirrups, his raging cock 
surging, and was reaching for her when two men jumped 
from the brush on the verge of the roadway and yelled at 
them, both with shotguns pointed.

"What the hell," cried the young man, kicking his horse 
forward. "Out of the way, scum," he cried as the man on 
his left fired. A full load of heavy buckshot tore away 
his face and peppered his chest, and he was thrown from 
the saddle to lie kicking and squirming on the road as 
Tish screamed.

The other man grabbed the girl's reins and told her to 
get down while his companion pulled off Harmon's fine 
boots and then rummaged through his pockets and took his 
gold watch. The boy wasn't dead but he was eyeless and 
what was left of his mouth was bubbling out blood. He 
soon convulsed and lay still.

"Lookee what we got, Lem," said the man holding Tish as 
he tore open her shirt and ripped off her gold necklace. 
"Ain't they nice?" He grabbed a full young breast and 
twisted the girl's nipple. She squealed.

"Let's get out of here," said the other man, who now 
held the reins of both horses. "Damn gun's awful loud."

"Aw'right, c'mon," he said as he twisted the girl's arm 
up her back and trotted into the woods. Tish stumbled 
along, horrified and gasping for breath, and they soon 
came to a log shack in a small clearing where some corn 
grew in ragged rows. 

The man holding Tish's arm pushed her over to the rain 
barrel and forced her head down into the scummy water as 
he tore away what was left of her shirt. He grabbed her 
hair, pulled her up blubbering and growled, "Get out 
a'them britches, bitch. I got something for ya."

"Wait a minute," said the other man having tethered the 
horses, "find out if she's cherry. We'd get a good price 
for her if she's a virgin."

"Money's all you think about," his friend said as he 
yanked off the girl's boots, tossed them aside and then 
pulled off her belt and heavy riding trousers and ripped 
away her lacy pantaloons. He put one big hand on her 
throat, pulled her back to the wall, palmed her lower 
belly and stuck his fingers into her vulva, poked and 
grinned. "Yeah, you was right. She's got a maidenhead."

"Hot damn, might get five hundred for her in town. 
Remember that there twelve-year-old we sold to Mitch at 
the cat house?"

"Turn around, grab that barrel and spread your legs, 
y'stupid bitch," the man choking Tish demanded.

"No, don't, please don't," she begged, tears streaming 
from her eyes, her heart fluttering.

He slapped her back and forth twice, bringing blood to 
her mouth. She turned, grasped the edge of the rain 
barrel and he smacked her buttocks sharply. "Spread `em, 
bitch."

Until the moment when the big man rammed his stiff and 
spit-slick penis into her tight anus, Tish had never 
even thought of such a thing as anal sex. She screamed 
as he ripped her open with jab after jab of his thick 
member until he was fully seated. Then he held her slim 
hips and fucked her, grunting and thrusting. "Damn 
girl's so tight she's skinning me," he grunted, pulling 
her to him and forcing her up on her toes.

Tish gasped and screeched, fell to the muddy ground with 
her hands still gripping the barrel and the man with his 
prick in her bent his knees and went right down with 
her, ramming again and again, teeth clenched as he felt 
her insides begin to loosen and relax under his vigorous 
pounding.

"Save me a piece," said his buddy, watching the action, 
his long cock in his big hand.

"Oh yeah. There's plenty here," said the grinning man 
with his thick horn pistoning in the sobbing girl. "Here 
it comes." And he cried out with pleasure and relief as 
he ejaculated, slapped Tish's buttocks and pulled his 
prick out of her sucking anal cavity and sprayed a 
creamy ribbon on her back. His softening penis was 
bright red and dripping.

"Get over here," the second man demanded, and Tish 
crawled to him on her hands and knees, looking up at his 
bearded face. "Open wide," he said with a smile.

The girl had sucked her brother's cock several times so 
she knew what was expected of her and did her best to 
please her captor despite his vile taste and smell.

He dug both hands into her tied-back hair and fucked her 
face with short hard rams and then pushed his thick cock 
right down the girl's throat and watched her eyes widen 
as she tried to gasp for breath. In the next hour both 
men raped the youngster's ass with the help of some 
grease they used on saddles and both also forced her to 
suck them deeply and lick their balls. Then they put her 
on their mule in a tattered cotton dress that had been 
their long-escaped sister's, mounted their new horses 
and rode into town and right to the busy brothel that 
served the river docks.

The woman who ran the place took one look at the sad-
faced girl in the shapeless dress and yelled, "Git her 
out'a here. I want no part a'her. That there's Magill's 
fucking brat, and he'll skin you if he catches you. 
Throw her in the river."

They went to the nearest bar, forced Tish to squat in a 
corner, discussed their choices and then made the girl 
to write her father a note since neither of them could 
write although one could read some.

The note said; "Father, two men are holding me. They 
want money. Give this man $500 cash and they will let me 
go. If you don't they will kill me." And she signed her 
name, her full name.

Lem took the girl back to the cabin while his friend 
rode quickly to the Magill mansion and knocked at the 
front door. He was ushered into the library while back 
in the woods the other man hauled the girl inside, threw 
her on the bed, stripped off his clothes and took her 
virginity with a cry of pleasure. He ripped her tight, 
dry vagina open with a single, half-foot thrust, and 
despite her writhing and screaming, enjoyed himself 
thoroughly, ignoring his first ejaculation in her 
quivering depths and humping her hard until she went 
limp under him some ten minutes later.

He flipped her over, greased her anus with her own 
juices and sodomized her again, spilling his seed into 
her when he was finally spent. While he was enjoying 
himself so completely, his partner was strung up by his 
genitals in the Magill smokehouse, hanging head down 
over a smoking fire and begging for mercy.

After an hour or so, they cut the man down and let him 
fall face first into the small fire, dragged him 
outside, seared off both his nipples and told him they 
planned to fry his balls. He told them who Lem was, 
where the cabin was and that the girl was safe. They 
drove a glowing branding iron rod into his ass and up 
through his body. It protruded from his chest as they 
dragged him to the hounds' enclosure and tossed him in 
to the hungry dogs. One huge mastiff tore open his belly 
and dragged out his intestines while he was still alive.

Lem had the girl on her knees between his legs trying to 
get hard again when he began worrying about his friend 
and what was going on. It had been a couple of hours. He 
ignored the blubbering girl's cries, got her up on her 
horse in her torn gown with her feet tied to the 
stirrups, mounted behind her and headed for the Magill 
plantation, playing with her tits now and then. Halfway 
there, he ran into a group of men out looking for him 
and the girl. He halted and raised his hands and Tish's 
father shot him in the neck and raised arm with his .44 
caliber pistol. Lem fell screaming and the small posse 
forced their horses to trample him to pulp and then left 
his broken body in the ditch beside the road for the 
animals to take care of. That night, Lem was still alive 
when the first skunk approached what the crows and foxes 
had left behind.

Tish was bathed and ministered to before she was put in 
her bed and allowed to sleep. She woke at midmorning, 
sore and frightened, wondering what had happened. Her 
maid brought her some food and then her brother entered 
and sat on her bed.

"We found what was left of Harmon," he said. "Damn 
shame, might have been a good man. How many times did 
they poke you?"

She shook her head and pursed her lips, feeling her 
labia and anus quivering and throbbing. She knew her 
thighs were bruised. Her brother stood, let his dark 
robe slide from his broad shoulders and jumped up on her 
bed, pushed her flat, ignored her cries and mounted her 
quickly, driving his long cock up into her ravaged 
vagina until he was balls deep and grunting with 
pleasure. He was much bigger than either of the men who 
had raped her.

Once he settled into a steady regimen of thrusts at 
about one a second, he smiled down at her, and pulled a 
pillow down under her rump. "Ain't no respectable man 
gonna marry you now, little girl. You know that? But if 
we don' find you a husband, some man on his second or 
third wife probably, some decent farmer or maybe a 
lawyer, somebody like ole Dr. Fritz, you can be our 
resident bed-warmer. How's that?" He speeded up his long 
thrusts as he felt his testicles churning.

"No, no," the girl cried, snapping her head from side to 
side as she nearest a sexual climax brought on by her 
brother's vigorous pounding of her belly and abuse of 
her buried clitoris.

He laughed, yanked his rigid cock out of her, flipped 
her over and shoved his prick back into her sodden 
vagina as he crushed her breasts in his big hands. "Give 
up on your knees," he demanded, humping hard. "And get 
busy, fuck me back. Don' just lie there."

Once he was satisfied, her brother had Tish lick him 
clean and then left, telling her she was nowhere near as 
good as their father's favorite black girl.

Tish had cleaned herself up and was standing at her 
window, still in her light nightdress, looking out on 
the fields, when her father entered. Without saying a 
word, he lifted the gown over his daughter's head and 
tossed it aside. Then her put her hands on the window 
frame, freed his aching penis from his trousers and 
eased it up into his child's dripping cunny, holding her 
at the hips.

"Ah," he sighed, "damn good. Your brother was right. 
You've a decent piece of ass." He began bucking himself 
up into her, in and in again.

'Daddy, Daddy," she sobbed, her head drooping between 
her elbows. "Don't make me a slave. Get me a decent 
husband."

He accelerated, one hand kneading her belly and the 
other filled with a warm breast. "Not likely. You're 
damaged goods. Three men have died; the stories are 
spreading. Start moving with me, child." He fucked 
harder, lifting Tish right off her feet.

That afternoon, washed and dressed in white, Tish sat in 
the parlor and sipped tea with the local music teacher, 
a Mr. Boscoe from New Orleans. Boscoe had, the rumors 
said, poisoned two wives and one of his mistresses when 
she became too demanding, and he ached to have the 
luscious girl before him. "About her dowry?" he asked 
her impatient father.

"A good farm, bottom land, and most of her late mother's 
jewelry," her father said. "Any marriage will be a very 
quiet affair, done right here in this room."

Tish bit her lower lip and refused to think of life with 
the fat old man grinning at her. 

"Then it is agreed," said Boscoe. "She is certainly a 
lovely girl no matter what was done to her."

"NO!' Tish yelled. "No, it is not agreed. I will not 
marry him, no, never." She ran from the room, crying.

Since her brother was not at home and her father had an 
assignation with one of his several mistresses, he 
decided to let her stew and deal with her tantrum the 
next day. I'll whip her if I must, he thought.

Tish decided to run away. She crammed some clothes and 
her mother's pearls in a soft bag, went down the back 
stairs and was almost through the quarters when she was 
stopped.

"Where you goin'?" asked the big black man standing 
before her.

"Get out of my way," she cried, trying to push him 
aside. He didn't move, just smiled. He picked her up 
around the middle, like a sack of corn, and carried her 
to his cabin which he shared with three other 
fieldhands. By candle light, they stripped her bare and 
then passed her around and enjoyed her, one right after 
the other. Two took her on their thighs, bouncing her up 
and down and another did her down on the dirt floor and 
then the man who had captured her, a middle-aged slave 
known only as Buck, took her to his corn-shuck bed, got 
in behind her spoon fashion and enjoyed her lithe body 
for some time before they slept with his mighty cock in 
her small hand.

Tish awoke when Buck drove his huge morning erection 
into her ravaged vagina and covered both her breasts 
with his callused hands. He humped for some time, 
snorting and heaving and the girl was jolted about like 
a poorly made rag doll. When the big man was spent, he 
left the sobbing girl sprawled on his bed and went to 
his job. Tish rolled out, found her clothes and crept 
away. It was almost noon when she approached the 
neighbor's plantation house and went in through the 
summer kitchen. 

In the parlor, she found the lady of the house at her 
tall desk. "Mrs. Pretice," Tish said her voice full of 
tears, "I'm in trouble. I need help."

The woman rose, smiled, crossed the room and hugged the 
poorly dressed youngster. Finding her body firm and 
warm. "Poor dear, poor dear," she said soothingly. "O f 
course we will help you. Didn't I love you mother?'

She led the girl up her bedroom, urged her to undress 
and crawl up into her big bed and then went down the 
hall and fetched her youngest son, fifteen-year-old Mace 
who was already hell on the serving girls, the house 
slaves.

"Now I want you to make love to her, be nice, don't just 
fuck her like a slutty slave. Understand?"

The boy nodded, feeling and enjoying the feel of his 
arousal. He had lusted over Tish for more than a year 
and often pretended she was spread before him when he 
played with himself or fucked one of the slave girls. 
Now he would mount her for real. His mother was giving 
her to him to break in, to prepare to serve all the men 
in the family.

"I want her to feel obligated to us, to want to do what 
we ask, and I want her to enjoy herself with you. So 
take your time, do your best and don't forget what I 
taught you about digging in with your tongue."

END

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life in
anyway shape or form. Anyone tempted to act out any of
the scenarios in this story; should seriously consider
seeking professional help.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 72