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Message-ID: <62301asstr$1345975802@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Dutch Master <mrdutchmaster@gmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Domming Daughter Dani - Chapters 20-24 of 51
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Date: Sun, 26 Aug 2012 06:10:02 -0400
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Domming Daughter Dani - Part 20 of 51 - CONFESSIONS OF A WIFE BEATER

   By Dutchboy

   copyright: This work is released under the Creative Commons Attribution
Only (CC BY) License.  You can copy it, paste it, change it, try and get
some other fool to pay you money for it.  I don't care.  Just acknowledge
my original authorship and if you change anything, be upfront about the
fact that you changed it.  If that ain't a square deal, I'll kiss your ass.
Story codes: mdom, male dominant, incest, inc, true, bdsm, some pedo,

spanking, mmf and mff.

   ------------------------------

   ON DOMESTIC VIOLENCE:

   I included the story about beating the shit out of Caryn 1.) Because it
was wrapped around the important reveal of her incestuous past and 2.)
Because it's true.  I did it.  Not proud that I did it, but sure as fuck, I
did it.

   So to say "Hey, that was a rare instance!  Don't hate me!  It never
happened before or after that!" Bullshit.

   It didn't happen very often.  There were constant threats of violence,
sure.  There was a lot of spanking and some symbolic face slapping and a
LOT of cockswats to her face because I loved the humiliation of that.  I
loved the way a solid cockswat crack-on-the-cheek sounded.  I liked the
feeling of the hot contact across the front of my prick.  But that night
was the only time I hit her hard enough to draw blood, and the cut on her
head from the chair leg was a careless causality, but not intentional.

   Either way, I own it.  I did it.  No excuses.  Mea culpa.  My bad, dude.
When you live as a Dom, you're going to fuck up every once in a while.  You
gotta be ready to take the heat when you do.

   Mostly our sex life was a lot of growling and head-games and
intimidation through humiliation.  I can't think of any time other than
that night when I roughed her up above the neck so bad that she bruised. 
Lots of bruises and welts on her ass and tits, but not her face.  And
honestly there weren't that many angry rough-rough nights over the entire
span of our years together.  Maybe three?  Four?  One more biggy that we'll
get to in just a bit, but even that rough sex was much more measured and
controlled than the night Caryn's tried to walk away from her most
humiliating sex session.

   Ehn.  Honesty or not, you won't believe a wife-beating daughter-raper.
And you probably shouldn't.

   But...  After that night there was no doubt that I was ready to escalate
any time Caryn was ready to challenge me or back talk me.  Frankly, there
was not a lot of back talk after that night.  Not a lot of challenges.  I
bullied her to go where she wanted least to go.  After that, there was no
doubt that I owned her all the way to the deepest, darkest corners of her
psyche.

   I didn't get-off on the violence.  I got off on her submission and
humiliation.  The violence was an insurance policy to ensure I got an
uninterrupted supply of submissive suck and fuck.  I'm sure it was that
same low-hanging cloud of potential testosterone-induced violence which
prevented Caryn from interfering with my own incestuous adventures.

   Simply put, violence works in the short term.  Love works in the long
term.  A good Dom knows how to blend both manipulations seamlessly.

   Domming Daughter Dani - Part 21 of 51 - CARYN'S INCEST TALE INTRO

   By Dutchboy

   copyright: This work is released under the Creative Commons Attribution
Only (CC BY) License.  You can copy it, paste it, change it, try and get
some other fool to pay you money for it.  I don't care.  Just acknowledge
my original authorship and if you change anything, be upfront about the
fact that you changed it.  If that ain't a square deal, I'll kiss your ass.
Story codes: mdom, male dominant, incest, inc, true, bdsm, some pedo,

spanking, mmf and mff.

   ------------------------------

   CARYN'S GROOMING

   The tale of Caryn's incest grooming played out in a string of short
stories, one talky sex session at a time.  The only times we talked about
her past she was either whispering it out around my wet cockhead, or she
was grunting it out while I pounded her twat.  Most of it was revealed in
question and answer format.  Sometimes I'd go over the same details in four
or five different sex sessions, asking slightly different questions each
time until I felt I'd gotten the "real" story behind any particular aspect
of Caryn's childhood sex life and I was certain there was nothing that she
was hiding from me.

   I've quilted her narrative together into one linear true (uh NOT true,
NOT true.  Did I say true?  No.  Not true.) tale of incestuous grooming.

   *BEEP*BEEP*BEEP* WARNING: HEAD-HOPPING AHEAD.  My attempts to recreate
Caryn's story in third person weren't nearly as riveting as her own words.
This is an echo of her real words and it also is a pretty clear insight
into what our sex life was like between June of 1988 and March of 1989 when
we eventually married.  What follows is not a transcription, but damn close
to her exact words cobbled together for either your enjoyment or your
revulsion.

   Domming Daughter Dani - Part 22 of 51 - CARYN'S INCEST TALE PART ONE

   By Dutchboy

   copyright: This work is released under the Creative Commons Attribution
Only (CC BY) License.  You can copy it, paste it, change it, try and get
some other fool to pay you money for it.  I don't care.  Just acknowledge
my original authorship and if you change anything, be upfront about the
fact that you changed it.  If that ain't a square deal, I'll kiss your ass.
Story codes: mdom, male dominant, incest, inc, true, bdsm, some pedo,

spanking, mmf and mff.

   ------------------------------

   Caryn said:

   I can't remember Daddy not being "the boss." He was Mom's boss.  He was
my boss.  I think about the way he terrified my brothers and part of me
thinks I may have been the one member of the family who got off easy. 
Believe it or not, I got spanked a lot less than my brothers.  Daddy
whipped them with a long dowel rod that would welt the backs of their legs
even if they had been wearing their Carhartts when Daddy beat them.

   He spanked my mom a lot too when he said she'd done something wrong.  At
first when I was little, I heard him spanking her in their bedroom.  When
we got a little older he'd have the boys and I stand in the living room and
watch him spank Mom really hard.  He'd pull her jeans and panties down to
her knees and just whack!  Whack!  Whack!  Mom hated to cry, but daddy
would just keep cracking his palm on her ass until she screamed for mercy.
It was dumb for her not to just do that right away and save the bruises on
her ass, but she always tried to hold out for some reason.

   We only had one bathroom in the house, and if I was in the bathtub,
somebody was always coming in to take a poop next to me while I was
bathing. We didn't have a shower head, or even a working hot water tank. 
We had to heat up our own hot bath water from pots on the stove, so you
didn't want a lot of water in the tub.  A lot of water meant that you had
to heat up and haul more hot water from the stove.  And if the tub water
was too deep, it just got colder faster.  There was a point where if you
tried to take a deep bubble bath, it wouldn't work at all.  By the time you
got more hot water heated on the stove and poured, you were pouring it into
ice water.  So it was easier to just get the tub deep enough to cover my
butt.  At that point when I lay down in the tub it was deep enough to lean
back and wash my hair or rinse the soap off my chest.

   There was no curtain around the tub.  If you were in the bathroom when
somebody was bathing you couldn't help but see everything.  Daddy could see
everything.  And he'd watch me bathe too.  Stare at me.  The older I got,
the more he stared.

   I tried to tell him that I didn't want him coming in the bathroom while
I was taking a bath, but he wouldn't hear of it.  He said things were
different on a farm and farm families had to leave certain niceties to the
pages of Emily Post.

   Sometimes after he'd flush, he'd stand up and his big hairy wiener would
be poking straight out, big as life.  He'd wash his hands in my tub water
and use my bar of soap.  Then he'd tell me to stand up and he'd soap all
over my legs and ass with his big foamy hands.  But he didn't touch my
pussy when I was little.  He looked at it a lot, but he never really played
with it or molested it.  He was most interested in my ass.  I guess at four
or five, it was the only curve I had.  Shape of my hip bones, I guess.  I
always had a round butt, even when I was little.

   Sometimes if he didn't come in and watch me in the tub, he'd come into
my room right after I walked back in from the bathtub and "inspect me."
He'd make me drop the towel in the floor and stand on it.  Then he'd run
his hands through my wet hair like he was looking for bugs.  Or he'd sniff
me like a dog.  Sometimes he'd lift me on the bed and push my heels back
and stick his big nose in my ass crack or my cunt and sniff me.  "You'd
better stay squeaky clean for Daddy, Carebear," he'd say in this really
ominous, serious dad-voice.  I'd nod.

   But that was it.  Staring and soaping and sniffing.  That was all he
did. At least until I was about eight and a half.  That's when one night at
supper he told the family that there was a new arrangement and every
Thursday night I was going to sleep with Daddy and Mommy in their bed and
every Tuesday night, I was going to sleep with Daddy by myself.  Mom was
going to sleep in my bed by herself.

   He told us kids that the arrangement was a family matter between farm
kin, and none of us were to speak a word of it to anyone at school or in
town.  No jawing with our friends.  I mean, it really seemed strange, but
then again, the way Daddy said it, it was like it was supposed to be
completely normal.

   Once I started sleeping my nights in Daddy's bed, it really was almost
was normal.  If it was just me in the bed with him, he'd kiss my cheek and
then crash dead asleep.  If it was Thursday, he'd kiss Mom good night and
then me.  Then he'd drop off to sleep instantly.  Given the hours he kept
working the pigs and the dairy cows, that wasn't unusual.

   Then, one Thursday, after maybe six months of "Goodnight, Jen, Goodnight
Carebare.  Zzzzz," one night my Mom came to bed last (she always was the
last one in the bed) and Daddy said, "Jen, get down and work my pecker."

   My mom looked at him and she looked at me.  "Hurry up, goddammit," he
growled.  He pushed his own pajama bottoms down and his dick was already
hard and huge pushing way out from the nest of his ball hairs.  I was so
embarrassed.  I turned away and looked out the window while I heard my mom
crawl into bed and start a wet slurping on Daddy's dick.  After ten minutes
I heard my Daddy 's breathing get real rapid and then he said "Swallow,
Whore," matter-of-factly.  A couple seconds later the lamp on my mom's side
of the bed clicked dim and Daddy was snoring again.  After about the third
time that happened, it wasn't as shocking any more.  Just weird.  Sometimes
he'd make her stop sucking and then go through some sex positions while I
lay there looking the other way and trying to ignore the bed bouncing.

   So that takes us up in time to when I was just about nine years old. 
Every two or three weeks, Mom and Dad would have sex next to me.  Not every
Thursday.  Just sometimes.

   When Daddy and I were alone in the bed, he still didn't really do
anything sexual.  Not for a little while longer.  Just after I turned ten,
one Tuesday night when it was just us in the bed, he stopped me before i
got in the bed.  He had me take off my pajamas.  For the first time that he
wasn't sexing my mom, he kicked his pajama bottoms all the way off and
tossed them out of the bed.  Then he had me hold out my hands so he could
look at my fingers.  He said my fingernails were too short and too many of
them were broken.  He told me that from that night on, I better not bite
them and I better grow them long and keep them pretty like Mom kept her
nails.  Well, keeping long fingernails on a farm is just this side of
impossible.  Long fingernails are for city girls with money and moms who
buy them nice dresses and hold their birthday parties in a
tumble-gymnasium. I told Daddy I'd try.  Daddy said I'd do better than try,
or the he'd spank me in the living room in front of my brothers, just like
he did to Mom.

   Then that night was the first night he had me scratch his balls.  He had
me lay in the crook of his left arm with his left hand stroking at my left
elbow, and then with my right hand hand I had to reach down and find his
nuts and lightly run my fingernails over them.  I was so terrified that I
was going to accidentally touch his dick, I always put my hand way down by
his thigh and then pulled up the inside of his thighs until my knuckles
bumped against his fuzzy ball sack.  Then really gently I'd just claw my
fingernails in and out over his balls until they got really tight and Daddy
would eventually start to shiver and jerk and eventually say it was too
much.  He'd rub at the gooseflesh on his arms and legs.  Then he'd kiss me
and go to sleep, both of us naked.  Sometimes he'd rub my butt for a few
minutes before he drifted off.  I kind of liked that part.  Butt-rubs were
comforting after they stopped being weird.

   Everything that was weird eventually stopped being weird after enough
repetition.

   And that's the way things stayed for a while longer, that's how my
Tuesday nights went after I turned ten.

   I saw Daddy's half-hard dick swinging back and forth as he got into bed
before he reached over and turned out the light.  Then it was dark.  My
hand was under the sheets.  Scratching sessions never lasted more than
fifteen minutes before he'd get too tickled and make me stop.  I kinda
started to like the ritual.  Not so much that I had to scratch my own dad's
balls every Tuesday night, but I liked the way he'd hold me tight and rub
my arm while my fingernails danced around the stiff hair follicles bumps
that popped up on his sack after it went tight.  He really seemed to like
it, and he was less bossy around me the rest of the day after I started
scratching his balls, so I liked that.  But it didn't go any farther than
that.  He'd kiss me on the cheek and then he'd roll over and go out like a
light.

   Again, it wasn't that long until the "weird" of it went away.  It was
just another Daddy ritual, like him coming in to watch me take a bath or
soaping my body, or sniffing at my ass and pussy after I got back to my
room after bathing.  It wasn't "sex." It was just the way it was.  I didn't
think about it as being sex or sexual.  Just Daddy's way.  Even when he
started soaping my chest and impatiently pulling at my non-existent flat
nipples when he bathed me, it didn't seem sexual.  It was just Daddy's way.

   After three months or so of scratching Daddy's balls every Tuesday
night, one Thursday night at dinner he made my mom and I stand up from the
table and show him our fingernails.  Mom had just finished filing and
painting her nails before dinner and they looked perfect.  I don't know how
she managed to keep perfect fingernails, but she did.  She also seemed to
know the inspection was coming that night.  She couldn't have been that
lucky.

   Me, I'd been doing fabulously at growing my nails out.  Daddy had
noticed how perfect my ball scratching had become with my longer,
emery-shaped tips.  But earlier that day I'd almost let the piglets in
Charlie Barn squirt past me and into the slop yard.  Rounding up piglets in
a big yard is next to impossible.  Some of the boars and barrows were still
in the slopyard and they'll eat the piglets before they'll eat slop.  As
the little fuckers tried to get past my boots, I panicked a little.  I
kicked 'em back and made a couple of claws at the gate before their little
bumping heads could knock it all the way open and I broke two fingernails
and the thumbnail on my left hand.  Not even my ball scratching hand.  I
don't know why Daddy picked that night for inspection, but he had to know.
Maybe he saw my fingernails as I ate dinner.  The fact that my Mom had just
dressed her tips up make me think it was already planned before that.

   "Caryn, you've disobeyed me," Daddy said, real deep and serious.  "I
gave you very clear instructions on how you were to keep yourself groomed,
but you saw fit to disregard my wishes.  You will be spanked in the living
room at exactly eight o'clock tonight.  Gip.  Stevie.  You are going to
watch your sister get punished tonight."

   Then he looked at me.  "Take off your clothes, Caryn."

   "Here?  Now?"

   "All of them," he said.

   "Where should I put them?" I asked.  I stood there, completely dizzy in
disbelief.  He didn't really mean for me to strip naked in the kitchen with
the lasagna still bubbling in the Corningware?  Yep.  It turns out he did.

   He had me hand him my top.  Then my cammy.  Then my socks.  Then my
jeans.  Finally my panties.  My brothers just looked at my naked body like
I was some kind of alien.  I was so embarrassed that I was beet red from my
ears to the soles of my feet.  "When can I have them back?" I asked.

   "Tomorrow morning," Daddy said.  "You won't need clothes again before
then.  After I'm done spanking your ass, you're not going to want any
clothes touching your skin anyway."

   "And you two," My daddy said, pointing at my brothers with the prongs of
his fork.  "I know you two are a little younger than your sister, but you
are both responsible for helping me keep Caryn in my good favor.  Your
mother too, for that matter, but I want you to two to start with Caryn."

   My two little brothers were seven and eight at the time.  They just kept
staring at my nudity with big purple question marks spinning around their
head.

   "Do you understand what that means?"

   Neither of them had a clue, but both of them nodded that they
understood.

   "That means," my daddy continued, "That it falls to both of you to make
sure that Caryn and your mom are thorough about their hygiene habits. 
You're both responsible for making sure the are wearing clean panties, no
stains, no blood spots and no crotch rot.  That means you both are
responsible for making sure the women around here smell like women and not
pig ranchers.  You'll supervise their bathing and make sure every inch of
them is scrubbed clean.  It means that when you catch either one of them in
a state of slovenliness or unkemptness, you will report it to me
immediately.  Soon I'll authorize you to administer punishments on my
behalf, but not just yet.  Are we clear?  Gip?"

   "Clear sir," Gippy said.

   "Steve?"

   "Clear?" Steve answered as if uncertain as to whether there was a trick
question involved.

   It would be a few years before Daddy's expectations of the boys were
really and truly clear, but, like any good farmer, Daddy knew you had to
train your farmhands just as much as you had to start training your
livestock when they were calves and piglets, even when you had no real
expectation that either'd take to the training right away.

   Daddy and the boys were farmers.

   Mom and me, we were livestock.  Fancy indoor livestock.

   That night at eight o'clock, I was pretty sure my dad let the wood
burning furnace in the living room go cold on purpose.  It was freezing in
there as I sat naked on the couch and waited to star in the big show.  My
brothers were watching Dukes of Hazzard next to me, but they didn't even
really look at me.  At least not at my body.  They did keep looking at my
eyes and smirking.  If I was in trouble with Daddy, that meant they
probably were safe from his cane for the time being.

   Daddy came in from milking the cows about ten after eight.  Then he made
some coffee and peed.  Time absolutely stood still.  Mom walked in the room
next to him when he finally came in for me.  Her hands were on her hips and
she was looking stern at me like she was mad at me too for breaking my
fingernails.

   Daddy pulled the ladderback chair he used for spankings away from the
wall and into the center of the room.  That sound of the back legs of the
spanking chair vibrating across the plank floor as Daddy dragged it to the
middle of the room is still the most awful sound I can think of.

   "Caryn, get your ass off the couch and kneel right there," he ordered,
pointing at the hard wooden floor to his left.  I did.  The floor was even
colder than the couch and I shivered with chill as well as anticipation and
fear.

   "And you, Jennifer," dad growled.  "Get your clothes off.  All of them.
Then kneel right there." This time he pointed to his right.  It was the
same positions we had when we both slept in his bed.  Mom on the right.  Me
on the left.

   Mom's jaw hinged open.  She may have been tipped off to the inspection,
but she obviously didn't see this part coming.

   "W-w-why?" she stammered.  "I didn't do anything wrong."

   "So you say," Daddy said.  "And I said for you to get your whore clothes
off and get your fucking knees into the floor right where I just told you."
Daddy's tone-of-voice made it clear that Mom shouldn't test him.  She
started stripping down and laying her clothes over the back of the couch.

   The boys didn't look at me naked.  I guess there wasn't much to see with
me not even being eleven.  But when my mom pulled off her bra, their eyes
zoomed right to her big jugs.  They were fascinated with her tits.  They
didn't even look for more than a few seconds at her dark-honey pussy bush
when she stepped out of her panties.  Their eyes bounced right back on her
breasts.  Big eyes.  Big tits give boys big eyes, I guess.  My Mom had
really big tits too, as you know since you've seen her.  Ten years ago they
were still pretty firm and impressive.  They hung high on her shoulders and
had that upturn thing going with her nipples that guys like so much.  Boys
too, apparently.

   My mom took her place on her knees where Daddy had pointed.

   "Sons, watch closely," Daddy said.  "This is what you're both going to
need to know when you've got women of your own.  Caryn!"

   I about jumped out of my skin.

   "Caryn," he said, "Stand up and get over here." Daddy patted his right
thigh.  I jumped up and walked round to his right side as I'd done a
hundred times before.  I started to lean over his lap like I always did and
he stopped me.

   "No," he said.  "Wait.  Wait for my command.  When I want you over I'll
say 'over." Got it?"

   I nodded.

   "Present yourself to me," he said.  I had no idea what he was talking
about.  He'd never said that before.  Daddy didn't wait before he started
telling me what he wanted.  "Put your hands behind your back.  No, all the
way.  Grab your right wrist with your left hand.  That's it.  Shoulders
back.  Good.  Now put your legs apart.  More.  No more.  So they are under
your shoulders.  NO!  Stop looking down and look at me.  Just get your legs
apart.  Good.  I should be able to put my fingers right into this twat
here," he said.  For the first time ever he touched the deep insides of my
pussy.  He pushed a flat, sideways hand between my legs and sawed the top
of his index finger back and forth across my inner pussy.  Of course I
jumped.  Just that fast Daddy pulled out his hand and slapped it across my
right hip.

   "Stand still!  Get your feet apart, goddammit.  LOOK AT ME!"

   I tried to do everything at once.  Suddenly I had to pee really bad and
I was afraid I was going to let it go right there on the TV room floor.

   Daddy's hand went right back between my legs and this time he pinched a
big wad of what little folds I had in my pussy at the time.  Not much.  I
still don't have a lot of folds down there and I had even less at ten.  My
clit wasn't as big then, but Daddy got all of it.  Daddy's pinch hurt so
bad.  It was like being stabbed.

   "This here is mine," Daddy said, pulling his pinch back and forth so
that it was excruciating.  "And it's mine until the day I walk you down the
aisle, you got it?"

   I nodded.

   Daddy looked at Gip and Steve on the couch.  "You see, Sons, girls
aren't really happy unless they are owned.  They're like dogs.  If you
leave them to themselves, there's lots of fighting and nipping and bullshit
as they have to try and figure out who the boss dog is.  Well not in this
family.  Who's the boss dog in this family, Caryn?"

   "You, Daddy," I squeaked.

   He looked down at my Mom in the floor.  She was staring off into space.
I could tell she wasn't happy.

   "Who is the boss dog in this family, Jennifer?" Daddy asked Mom.

   "You are," Mom whispered.  "You are the boss dog."

   "Well if I'm boss dog," Daddy pondered, "What does that make you,
Jennifer?"

   Mom sighed and mumbled something.

   "What?" Daddy roared.

   Mom sighed again.  "I'm your bitch."

   "Well are you?"

   "Yes."

   Daddy shook my twat meat between his fingers once more.  I was sure that
I was going to pee on his hand at any moment.

   "And you?" He looked at me.  "What does that make you?"

   "I- I- I- I'm your b-bitch too?" I said, hoping against hope that I had
given him the right answer.

   "Goddamn right you are," Daddy said.  At some point after he came in
from the barn he must have chugged a beer because I could smell it when he
talked right in my face.

   Daddy stopped pinching my clit meat and started rubbing his hands back
and forth between my legs again, the top ridge of his hand pressed against
my cunt hole as it moved back and forth.  He turned to the boys again. 
"The reason you check a girl before you spank her," he said, "Is to make
sure they don't have a wet pussy.  If they have a wet pussy before you
spank them, that's not pee, that's sex juice and it means the girl is a
whore because she likes being spanked.  Yeah, I know it's hard to believe,
but some girls like being spanked.  Once that happens you have to spank
them much harder to make your point.  Now so far, Caryn is a good girl.  No
pussy juice at all." Daddy held up his hand to the boys so they could see
it was dry.

   "Okay," Daddy said, resigned.  "Over my lap, Caryn."

   Another first: As I fell over Daddy's knee, his left hand shot up into
the back of my hair and grabbed a big bunch of it.  As if being the unhappy
volunteer in a public spanking clinic wasn't submissive enough, I really
felt Daddy's complete power over me as he pulled my head back on my neck.

   "Nice flat hand," Daddy showed the boys.  I couldn't see.  "Like a
brickbat.  Flat and firm."

   Then the spanking started.  Aside from the complete nudity and the
humiliation and my audience, it wasn't any more brutal of a spanking than
Daddy's usual swats.  It didn't go on any longer.  He didn't seem to swat
any harder.  I started crying right away the way I always did.  It still
hurt.  It hurt from the start.  But he wasn't spanking me like he was mad.

   I felt Daddy's cock poking into my stomach.  That wasn't the first time
I noticed daddy's erection when he spanked me, but it was really pointy and
uncomfortable.

   After he finished swatting my ass, he hinged me back up to my feet by my
hair and pointed to my spot on the floor.  I didn't stop bawling, even
after I was back on my knees.  I had to pee worse than ever.  Daddy called
Mom over and I don't know if she'd ever been spanked before in accordance
with the Daddy spanking ritual I'd just endured, but she'd watched me get
yelled at and she went right into a perfect attention stance right away
when Daddy said, "Present yourself to me, Jennifer.".

   "Again, boys, you give 'em a quick check to make sure they aren't a
whore and..." Daddy rubbed his hand into Mom's bush and stopped cold.  "God
damn it," Daddy said disgusted.  "God damn it.  Now this is exactly what i
was talking about, boys.  Your god damn mom has a pussy dripping with
slippery whore juice.  Don't you, whore?"

   I'd never seen my Mom blush so deeply red before.  She blushed all the
way from her forehead to her boobs.  "Yes," she said softly.

   "Don't tell me, hell I already know you're a whore.  Tell them," Daddy
said, his head tilting toward the boys.  "Tell your sons that you are a wet
pussy whore.  G'head.  Say it."

   Mom's eyes were pointed toward Gip and Steve, but she her focus was a
mile behind the couch.  "I'm a wet whore," Mom said robotically.

   "Who do you belong to, Whore?" Daddy asked her.

   Mom turned, "I belong to you."

   "We'll see about that, Whore," Daddy said.  "Now over!"

   Daddy's hand went into the back of Mom's hair the way he did to me.  He
jerked her over his knees.  Once she dropped onto his lap he let go of her
hair long enough to pull Mom's tits so they were over his left thigh.  Of
course, Mom is so short, her tits didn't really go over the thigh.  They
just kinda went into the top of it and she balanced on them like two big
springs.

   "There's a world of difference between a good girl who just went astray,
like your sister there," Dad was talking to the boys again, "and a whore
like this one here.  So there's a difference between the way you punish
them.  See, when a whore like your mother starts to like her spankings,
then you have to spank her even harder.  Sometimes you're not going to want
to do that.  Sometimes it's a lot of work for you and hell, it might even
hurt your hand to spank a whore hard enough to get through to her.  But if
you don't it's like letting a Bull into your bedroom.  Sooner or later
they're going to think they run the place."

   Daddy started spanking Mom so hard that the cracking sound hurt my ears.
He absolutely blistered her bottom.  Mom usually held out a couple of
minutes before she cried.  That night she started screaming about five
swats into the spanking.  Jesus.  She thrashed on Daddy's lap.  Mom never
thrashed.  She always took the spanking.  But that night she couldn't help
it.  Her self-preservation instinct kicked in and her legs started to
bicycle and her neck strained back and forth against Daddy's steel grip on
her head.  Even the boys on the couch looked like they were going to cry as
they watched in shock.

   After an eternity, it ended.  Mom must have taken fifty or more swats.
He doubled whatever my spank count was, for sure.

   Just like me, mom was hitching and sobbing after Daddy put her back in
her spot on he floor.

   Daddy stood up.  His erection was just about to pop out of the top of
his pants.  I sighed relief.  Finally it was over.  My ass was on fire, but
my heart was comforted that I was a little closer to getting back to
"normal" (and maybe to the bathroom).  The optimism didn't last very long.

   "Gip," Daddy said plainly, "You're up, son.  C'mon.  Take a seat in the
boss chair."

   Mom and I both turned to look at Daddy with the same look of disbelief
at the same time.

   Gip eased off the couch cautiously and walked toward the chair in the
middle of the room.

   "C'mon," Daddy said.  "Cowboy up.  Take the chair like you own it. 
That's good.  Good.  Now call your sister up."

   Gip looked from my Daddy to my Mom and then to me.  Then back at Daddy.

   "For cryin' out loud, I wanna get to bed sometime tonight, Son," Daddy
growled.

   Gip didn't look like the man of the house.  He looked like a nine year
old boy.  "Sister," he squeaked.  "Come stand here."

   I was floating.  Not in a good way.  It was a total dream.  I couldn't
feel my feet.  My brain told me I was standing up and walking toward Gip,
but the only thing that wasn't numb was my bladder.

   "Check her twat," Daddy nodded at Gip.

   Gip's tiny index finger poked out and moved slowly toward my pussy.  He
didn't want to touch it.  After a hesitation he just poked once into the
top of my slit, way high over my clit.

   "Naw, dammit," Daddy growled.  "Getcha some.  C'mon, boy." Daddy reached
down and grabbed Gip's wrist and pulled it upward and toward me so that his
knuckles crashed against my pink.  It didn't hurt, but I came very close to
peeing on Gip's hand.

   "There you go.  There you go," Daddy encouraged him.  Daddy dropped
Gip's wrist and Gip maintained the charade of rubbing my twat a moment
longer.

   "Is her pussy wet or dry?" Daddy asked.

   "Uhm, dry, I guess."

   "Good." Daddy said.  "Good girl."

   Daddy didn't have to prompt Gip for what came next.

   "Caryn, get over," Gip said, imitating Daddy.  I saw Daddy smile as I
leaned over and Gip grabbed my hair and pulled me down onto his thin little
lap.

   "How many spanks?" I heard Gip ask.

   "However many spanks you think she needs," Daddy said.  "Just remember
that she's not a whore.  She just made a mistake.  But it's your call,
son."

   If Daddy hadn't already spanked me, I might not have even cried at Gip's
effort.  As it was, I shed a few tears, more from the humiliation of being
spanked over the lap of my little brother than from the strikes to my
backside.  Gip just warmed my ass a little and he didn't spank me very long
at all.

   "You done?" Daddy asked.

   "Yeah?" Gip wasn't sure if he'd really spanked me enough for Daddy's
satisfaction.

   "Well, don't just leave her hangin' there, Son.  Put her bitch-ass back
down on the floor."

   "Oh yeah," Gip brightened.  "Caryn, get your butt back on the floor!" My
brother was growing bigger balls by the minute.

   I rolled back up and off Gip and took my place kneeling in my spot on
the floor.  Gip watched me all the way down.  He had a little
self-satisfied smirk that he'd got over on his bossy big sister, that's for
sure.  He made sure I saw him smile.

   "Okay, okay," Daddy barked.  "Move it along.  We've got cats to kill and
contracts to fill, Son.  Get on to the next one."

   Gip froze.  "Y-y-you mean Mom?"

   "Well," Daddy hemmed, " 'Mom' is kind of a title of respect.  Like
'Dad.' Or 'Captain.' Or 'Reverend.' Right now that spit-tail in the floor
is either a bitch or a whore.  Probably a wet pussy whore, but you can't
tell that from where you are just yet.  So...  Give 'er the benefit of the
doubt.  Address her as Bitch.  But get to moving.  C'mon."

   Gip gulped.  His mouth smacked dry.  "Bitch, stand up and get over
here," he said to Mom.  Mom looked like she was going to die of shame.  She
stood up off the plank floor and walked real slow towards Gip.  Then she
just stood there.

   "Bitch," Gip said, louder this time.  "Get your hands behind you... 
Present to me."

   You could see on Mom's face that she knew we were all crossing a line, a
line she'd likely never see the other side of it again.

   Daddy chuckled and nodded encouragingly.  "Good!  Good boy!"

   "Get your legs wider, Bitch," Gip said.He sounded phony, but Daddy was
eating it up.  Mom gave up.  She stepped her legs apart and put her
shoulders back and pushed out her tits.

   Gip stuck his hand into Mom's pussy and then stopped.  His eyes got big.
"It's wet!" Gip exclaimed.  His hand started moving around and we could all
hear the sound of wet pussy lips popping and slipping about Gip's fingers.
With the wood stove heater not burning, the room was so quiet you could
have heard a pin drop, so the sound of Mom's pussy sliding around Gip's
hand might as well have been fireworks.

   "Well dammit Son," Daddy shook his head, "Don't be so damn happy that
your mother is a whore.:

   "Oh," Gip said, removing his hand.  He was obviously reluctant to cross
the next line of ordering our mother over his lap.

   "You can touch 'em," Daddy said.  "You know you want to."

   "What?" Gip asked.

   "You know you want to touch the whore's tits.  G'head.  You used to suck
on 'em.  Take your little trip down Memory Lane and let's get this show on
the road.  Give 'em a good feeling up."

   Gip's jaw dropped open like a slobbering fool as he reached to his right
and grabbed one of Mom's tits in each of his hands.  He was gentle but
insistent.  Gip tested their weight.  He tested their flexibility.  His
grip went everywhere on Mom's chest but her nipples, which were poking out
pretty far.  Then Gip went for her nipples, tugging them in stereo. 
Twirling them between pinched fingers.

   Little Stevie on the couch had eyes the size of pie plates as he watched
Gip manhandle Mom's knockers.  He stared and pulled at the jeans over his
dick as if none of us were watching him play with himself.  He was in
another world.

   "Okay, okay," Daddy said to Gip.  "Get on with it."

   Then Mom was over Gip's lap.  Her tits spilled over the side Gip's left
leg, but Gip still reached down and pretended to move them into position,
even though all he did was feel her up some more.

   Gip didn't exactly follow orders because he didn't swat Mom any harder
or any longer than he spanked me.  Daddy didn't have to tell him to order
Mom back into her spot on the floor.  He just did it.  When Gip stood up
out of the chair he had a boner poking up in his pants too.

   Stevie took his place on the chair and ordered me up.  When he stuck his
hand in my pussy he accidentally put his ring finger right into my pussy
hole.  It was a total accident, but that was just too much for me.  I
flinched hard and that was enough that I couldn't help but pee one squirt
before I could pinch the flow off again.

   Stevie's queasy little smile vanished and his eyes looked like he'd
caught Santa in the act of rolling a bicycle beside the Christmas tree. 
"Dad!" he shouted.  "She's wet!  Care-Care is a whore!"

   Thank God, Daddy just rolled his eyes and made a winding motion with his
fingers.  "Yeah, yeah.  Get to it, Son.  Let's go."

   "No, really," Stevie said, "Caryn's a wet pussy WHORE!"

   "Son," Daddy shook his head.  "If you don't start busting ass and
busting it right now, you're going to lose spanking privileges in this
house.  Get at it."

   I fell over Stevie's lap without being ordered and without him grabbing
my hair.  He spanked twice as many swats as Daddy and Gip but his hits were
so high on my butt that they were almost on my back.  It didn't hurt one
bit and I made a point not to make a sound, just to show Stevie that he was
a shitty spanker.

   "That's enough," Daddy said, getting impatient.  "Caryn, getcher bitch
ass in the floor.  Whore, assume the position."

   Stevie stuck his fingers into Mom's pussy for ten seconds and then went
straight for her boobs.  Mom took a lesson from me and just dropped over
Stevie's lap without being ordered.  It cut the boob mauling short.  Daddy
didn't say anything and Stevie didn't do a very convincing job of spanking
Mom either.

   "Enough," Daddy said, looking at his watch.  "Boys, you finish up your
chores.  Stevie you've got the late feeding for the pigs in Baker barn and
Gipper, you milk tomorrow at 3:30 in the morning.  And I mean 3:30.  Those
cows get mastitis because you oversleep and I'll take the vet bill out of
your hide." Daddy took turns looking between Mom and me once more and then
checked his watch again.  "All you bitches and whores in the floor, you
have exactly three minutes to get your respective asses up in my bed.  One
second late and we'll do this all again, only you'll be tits-up and I'll
put a nice rosy spanking on a couple of pussies.  Got it?" He looked at his
watch a third time.  "Go!"

   It was all I could do to not pee on my own feet as I jumped up.  With
only three minutes to get upstairs, making it to the toilet first was going
to be a gamble, but I had no choice.  I ran straight for the bathroom door.
Unfortunately Mom was positioned three steps closer and she ran for it too.


   "Mooooom!  Noo!" I shrieked in panic.  "I can't wait.  I have to go
now!"

   I followed her into the bathroom and began to cry when she spun around
and dropped on the toilet seat.  Her face crinkled in sweet relief and I
heard the spray of pee hit the water.  That just made it worse for me.

   "Sorry, honey," Mom gasped out.  "You're on your own."

   "Mom!" I shrieked in anger.

   "Pee in the tub," Mom nodded at the bathtub.  "You better hurry.  He'll
do what he says he'll do.  It hurts a hell of a lot worse on your kitty
than it does on your ass, believe me."

   I was not going to pee in the tub.  I stormed out of the bathroom
thinking that somehow, somehow I'd hold it until the lights were off and
then sneak down and pee after Daddy dropped off to sleep.  Four steps out
of the bathroom the stabbing in my bladder doubled me over.  Instead of
going up the stairs, I turned the other way and bolted out the back door. I
think it was December then.  So, completely naked and freezing I swung
under the iron railing to the concrete steps at the back of our house and
just stuck my butt out and pissed like a racehorse into the yard.  I heard
a mad mewling and I realized that I was pissing right on top of one of the
cats in the dark.  Too bad.  I didn't even finish peeing.  After enough
pain subsided and I started getting nervous about the time, I just squeezed
it off and ran in the house and right up the steps.  I left the back door
to be closed by one of the boys later.  Up the steps and into Daddy's room.
I jumped over Mom and onto my side of the bed like I was Supergirl.  I
panted and looked at my Mom.  She stared at the ceiling, making a point not
to look at me.

   Daddy, that asshole, he didn't even come upstairs for another fifteen
minutes.  I could have finished peeing.  Hell, I could have just waited to
use the toilet.

   But as Mom said.  We both had no choice but to always take Daddy at his
word.

   Daddy strolled in, the long line of his erection still a diagonal line
pointing to his right hip.  He started shucking his clothes and I turned
and faced the window.  I knew Daddy wasn't going to bed until Mom sexed
him. Not with that bulge, he wasn't.

   "Carebear," he growled.  "Turn over here."

   I rolled on my back and looked over at him as he pushed his skivies down
and his big penis momentarily caught on the waistband and then smacked up
against his hairy flat stomach.

   "No more turning away from me when it's bedtime," he said to me.  "It's
disrespectful and it stops tonight."

   He stared at me, waiting for a response.  I nodded.  I tried to look him
in the eye so I didn't have to see his big twitching wiener or his hairy
balls.  It was one thing to scratch his balls in the dark, under the
covers, but it was another thing altogether to see his dick when it was
hard and long and thick as a blue ribbon cucumber.  It bounced up and down
without him walking or touching it.  Menacing.  That's the word.  Daddy's
dick seemed really menacing.  He crawled over Mom and plopped between us on
the bed.

   Mom reached for the lamp switch beside her.

   "And just what the hell do you think you are doing, Whore?" Daddy
growled.

   "You want the light on?" Mom asked innocently.

   "Quit fucking around, Jen.  Get down and work my pecker."

   Mom pulled out from under the covers and crawled between Daddy's legs.
She reached for his dick and I rolled back away from watching.

   "Goddammit, you little bitch," Daddy shouted.  I flinched.  "What did I
tell you?"

   I looked back over my shoulder to make sure he was talking to me.  He
was.  He was staring daggers at me.

   "Sorry, Daddy, I said, shifting to my back again.

   "Enough with the 'Sorry Daddy,' " he mocked.  "Get out from the covers.
Now get up on your knees."

   I came to my knees on the mattress and my hand laced between my knees
like I was going to pray.

   "Come closer," Daddy said, patting the mattress to the left of his hip.
"No closer.  Closer, goddammit!  Put your knees so they touch my hip. 
Yeah. Like that."

   I had smelled Daddy's balls on my fingers after I'd scratched his balls
before.  That weird man-smell.  Good and bad at the same time smell.  Kind
of like lamb chops, is what Daddy's ball smell reminded me of.  Kneeling
there I could smell it again, but a little different.  It was mixing with
the smell of his cock.  Not stinky smell, but like the smell of a
smoldering campfire mixed with salt and puppy fur.  I know that sounds
crazy, but it had that combination of clean and musky scent that you smell
on a puppy's head.

   Once I was in position, Mom reached up and grabbed Daddy's "pecker,"
hinging it up until it pointed at the ceiling.

   "No," Daddy said.  "Not you." He looked at me.  "You.  Pick my pecker
up, right in the middle."

   I'd tell you I hesitated, but I really didn't.  I just reached out and
closed my fingers around the middle of Daddy's dick.  His penis skin was so
soft, but it was so bumpy with veins and so hard.  And warm.  I didn't
expect it to be so warm.

   "Tilt it up.  More," Daddy said, firmly but evenly.  "More.  So it
points to the ceiling."

   I didn't expect Daddy's dick to have that much spring in it.  It was
actually an effort to pull it up and hold it away from his body.  Mom made
it look effortless, but Daddy's dick seemed to want to be pointing at his
face instead of the ceiling.

   "There," Daddy said.  "Good girl, Carebear.  You're a good girl. 
Squeeze.  Harder.  No, squeeze really hard.  It won't hurt me."

   Daddy had a piece of exercise equipment that was a thick spring between
two hand grips that you held in one hand.  He seldom watched television,
but when he did, he'd grab that gripper thingy from the lampstand beside
his chair and just pump it and pump it to strengthen his hands.  Daddy made
it look so effortless, I wondered why he even bothered.  Then I tried it
one day and I couldn't get the grippers to move at all, not even using two
hands.

   Trying to squeeze Daddy's big dick was a lot like trying to squeeze his
hand exercisers.  I just didn't have the finger muscles to do it right.

   "You're getting it," he said.  All three of us watched the big mushroom
top of his pecker plump bigger when I squeezed.  "That's it, Carebear.  Now
while you're doing that I want you to pull up on the cock meat.  Just a
little.  Squeeze and pull up.  That's it.  Thaaaaaats it."

   Daddy relaxed back into the pillow behind his head and the sternness
melted out of his expression.  "That's it, baby.  Don't stop."

   I pumped Daddy's pecker and looked at Mom, mostly for some signal that I
was doing what I was supposed to be doing.  Daddy's eyes closed in ecstasy.
Mom signaled that I needed to pull Daddy's dick shaft more up-and-down,
wiggling her fingertips in a "gimme-some-money" motion.  I did.

   "Oh perfect," Daddy moaned.  "No, don't move your hand up too high. 
That's for whores, not good girls.  Keep it right there in the middle. 
Yes. Kiss me, Carebear.  No, don't stop your hand.  Keep your hand exactly
the same.  Just kiss me."

   It was a stretch to reach Daddy's mouth and still keep his pecker
pointed at the ceiling.  My arms weren't that long and Daddy's torso was.
My lips got close enough and Daddy kissed them, really kissed my lips for
the first time.  His mouth was closed, but his lips were soft.  It wasn't
his usual Daddy squack kiss.  It was sensual.

   Sigh.  Daddy was my First Kiss.  I can't deny it.  It was a pretty good
kiss, too.  I can't deny that either.

   "Carebear, don't you stop doing what you're doing for even one second.
Not until I tell you to stop, do you understand?"

   I nodded and resumed a more upright kneeling pose as I pumped the middle
of Daddy's enormous pecker.

   Daddy looked down at Mom and then over at the clock on Mom's nightstand.
"You've got fifteen minutes, Whore." he said in his disgusted Daddy voice.
"Fifteen minutes to suck the spunk out of my balls.  After that, your
daughter will just have to take your place and finish up what you can't
do."

   Mom nodded sadly, like she'd seen this moment coming from a long way
away.  Her blush turned into a blanch.  She couldn't look at me.  She just
stared up at Daddy's face.

   "Get to it, Jen," Daddy barked.  "Work my pecker."

   Mom's mouth flew over Daddy's pecker head instantly.  How it stretched
so big was a miracle.  When I listened to her suck I wondered how Daddy fit
it in between her lips.  Once I finally saw it up close, It was indeed a
tight fit.  Mom's lips were stretched very thin.  Mom started grunting and
made her eyes big and then small as she and Daddy stared at each other. 
Her mouth took more and more of Daddy's pecker as she bounced lower and
lower on it while she grunted and rocked her head back and forth.  She was
such an aggressive cocksucker that she just about pulled Daddy's pecker out
of my grip with her twisting head.

   "Hold it now, Carebear," Daddy warned.  "Don't drop it.  Perfect.  Now
kiss me again."

   I did.  The kiss was softer and hotter than the last time, but still no
tongue.

   Mom stared right up at Daddy's eyes when he wasn't kissing me.  I kept
looking over at the clock on Mom's nightstand.

   After ten minutes of slurping and grunting, Mom had bounced her mouth
all the way down against my thumb and forefinger.  I started to pull my
hand away when Daddy said, "No."

   Mom smacked her lips into my hand harder and harder.  I knew that had to
hurt her.  I stopped stroking and just squeezed Daddy's pecker at the
bottom part of Daddy's acceptable stroke range.  Once again he corrected
me.

   "No, baby," he cooed at me.  "Don't stop pumping.  Your whore mom will
adjust her suck to where you are stroking.  If she bangs against your hand
that's okay.  It feels good on Daddy's pecker."

   Daddy started softly stroking his left hand down my back and around the
curve of my ass, then up my back.  It was very soft and gentle, just like
his kiss had been.

   "Okay," I whispered.  It was the first time I'd said a word since Daddy
arrived in his room.  "I just didn't want to hurt Mom's lips."

   "Don't you worry about that Whore," Daddy said.  "You're actually
helping her.  Watch what she does, watch close how she moves her whore
mouth up and down.  Watch careful how she works Daddy's pecker.  You're
going to have to take over for her in...." Daddy looked at the clock. 
"Less then two minutes.  "

   Mom really began to grunt and slurp then.  She acted like she loved
working Daddy's pecker more than anything in the world.  She moaned and
began to wiggle her butt up in the air from all fours while she sucked.

   "Getting close to time," Daddy panted.  "You about ready to take over
for that Whore, babydoll?  You about ready to suck the spunk out of Daddy's
balls?"

   I nodded.  I had to.

   Daddy started panting fast.  "Too bad.  Your whore mother has such a wet
whore pussy, but she can't even suck the spunk out of her man's balls
without taking all goddamn night."

   I thought about what Mom had said about how much it hurt to be swatted
on her pussy.  I didn't want that.  By my count I had thirty more seconds
until I was going to take Mom's place sucking Daddy's pecker.  Then when I
screwed that up, Mom and me both were probably going to get spanked right
on our kitties.  Daddy loved me now, but he was going to be mad when I
couldn't get that big pecker of his in my mouth.  Not even the head.  No
way.

   "I'll be good, Daddy," I said.  I didn't mean to say it in a
'good-little-daughter' voice, but that's how it squeaked out of me.  It
sounded like I really meant it.  "I'll suck your pecker real good," I said.
Then I leaned up and kissed his lips again.

   Daddy grunted like he was pooping and thrashed.  I looked down and Mom's
suck was way at the top of Daddy's dick and her throat was gulping up and
down.

   "Enough!" Daddy grunted.

   Mom pulled up and off.  She nodded at me.  I watched daddy panting and
twitching for a second longer.  A little shot of what had to be Daddy's
spunk bubbled out of the hole in his pecker head and rolled down over the
tops of my fingers.

   "That's enough, babydoll," Daddy said.  "You can let go now.  You did
great.  Now go to sleep."

   I set the pecker on his stomach lightly and crawled under the sheets. 
Mom turned off the light.  I heard her and Daddy kiss really wet kisses a
couple of times.  Then Daddy was making the hissing sound that indicated he
was asleep.

   I couldn't sleep.  I smelled the wet drippings drying on my fingers.  It
didn't smell like anything I knew before.  It smelled crazy.  It smelled
like an animal, and not a puppy either.  Something wild and dangerous.  I
thought about Mom's throat moving up and down and I knew she'd drank some
of Daddy's spunk.  I wanted to stick my tongue out and lick a little bit of
Daddy's jizz off my fingers so I would know what to expect if and when
Daddy made me work his pecker.  But I didn't.  I was afraid it would taste
like pee, even though I didn't even know what pee tasted like..

   Domming Daughter Dani - Part 23 of 51 - CARYN'S INCEST TALE PART TWO

   By Dutchboy

   copyright: This work is released under the Creative Commons Attribution
Only (CC BY) License.  You can copy it, paste it, change it, try and get
some other fool to pay you money for it.  I don't care.  Just acknowledge
my original authorship and if you change anything, be upfront about the
fact that you changed it.  If that ain't a square deal, I'll kiss your ass.
Story codes: mdom, male dominant, incest, inc, true, bdsm, some pedo,

spanking, mmf and mff.

   ------------------------------

   With only slight variations, that's pretty much how it went every time
mom or me got in trouble.

   There was nothing but ball scratching and pecker rubbing and a little
closed mouth kissing on Tuesday Nights.  Most Thursdays were uneventful,
but sometimes Mom would suck Daddy and sometimes after she sucked for a
while he'd lean up Mom would slide on her back and Daddy would push his
pecker into Mom's pussy.  I wasn't sure if Daddy was serious about thinking
Mom was a whore because on account of her pussy being wet too much, but she
was really wet.  I could hear it and I could see the sheen on Daddy's cock
when he pulled his stroke backwards out of her pussy.  I wasn't allowed to
stare out the window any more.  I'd kneel on the side of the bed and watch,
even if I was sleepy.  It never took more than a half hour, even if Daddy
was taking his time.  Once I started watching I could see that when Daddy
sexed Mom from behind like a dog, she really liked it.  She always
pretended to like everything, but I could tell that she really did like
Daddy sexing her that way.  She made a lot of noise and toward the end
before Daddy squirted his spunk in her, her eyes would roll back and she'd
make a noise like a grunt and drop down off her hands and onto her elbows
for a few seconds.

   That was a "normal" sex Thursday, and like I said....  they didn't have
sex every Tuesday.  All I did was watch those two dance out their very
practiced routine..

   Then there were "Punishment" Thursdays.  No matter what day of the week
Mom or I got in trouble, punishments were saved up for the next Thursday.

   Unfortunately Punishment Thursdays happened often enough to not be as
rare a ritual as I would have liked.  Mostly it was my mistakes that got
Mom and me spanked by Daddy and my brothers.  But Mom was the next.  About
six weeks after that first punishment, Mom walked out from a grocery run at
the Shop-Shape to find a big ding in the car door where somebody had backed
into it.  Jeez Daddy was angry.  It happened on a Sunday, and Daddy almost
didn't wait until Thursday, but he cooled down and waited.

   While Mom was cooking dinner that particular Punishment Thursday night,
Dad went in for his bath.  This time he had me fetching hot water off the
stove for him, which really complicated Mom's job, giving up three of the
four gas burners for hot water pots.  Most of us just used three pots and a
little bit of bath water, but that night Daddy made me bring three hauls.
Nine pots.  After I poured the third run of hot water in (while Daddy
lifted his legs over each side of the tub to ensure he didn't get burned) I
gathered the pots to leave, but Daddy called me back.

   "I want you to soap my pecker clean," he said.  "Your mom's going to
have it in her mouth tonight, and maybe you too, if she takes too long.  So
it's your responsibility to make sure my pecker is properly clean and
sanitary.  Grab the soap."

   I did.

   His dick was floating half-hard in the water, the big head like a
ballast balloon, bobbing in the already soapy water.  I reached in and
grabbed Daddy's pecker in the middle, like usual.  I started rubbing the
bar in the middle of his cock.  I think I was afraid of the head.  That
seemed to be the dangerous part.

   "Baby," Daddy said.  "The reason I don't let you stroke all of my pecker
or stroke up around the head is because that's what makes me squirt my
spunk.  Too much whoring up on the top of it makes me squirt spunk.  But
this isn't whore work.  This is love.  Love your daddy and soap my whole
pecker and my balls up real good and rub it clean all over with your hands.

   I did.  It was obvious that when I pulled soapy suds up around the
slippery tip of Daddy's dick, he really liked that.  He sighed a lot.  He
relaxed against the top of the tub.  And of course his pecker was a big
hard steel bar under my slippery hands.  I had to use two hands at all
times to make sure that Daddy's pecker didn't slip right out of my hands
completely.  Even with all the suds all over Daddy's dick, I could see the
pre-come dripping out of the top and mixing in with the soap.

   "Stop.  Stop it," said Daddy.  He was breathing fast and his eyes were
thin.  "Don't touch me for just a minute." Daddy lay back and let his
pecker dance up and down on his stomach for a while.  Then he had me soap
his balls very carefully.  Then he shooed me off to help Mom get supper
finished.

   When it was spanking time that night, everything was the same except
that I made sure I peed twice between the time Daddy got out of the tub and
when he put us in the floor.  Mom and I had removed all our clothes before
any of us took a bite of food.  Mom and I ate naked again, which was to be
our regular habit on Punishment Thursday.

   Daddy's punishment spanks were the same as always.  Gip and Stevie
rubbed Mom's tits a little more that time.  They were really looking
forward to it.  I swear they were salivating as they looked across the
table at Mom's chest while we ate.  Gip and Steve stuck their hands in our
twats just the same and spanked me and Mom just the same.  It hurt about
the same as the time before.  Maybe less because it was Mom's fault that
time and I didn't feel so guilty as I took swats from Daddy and the boys.

   Once we got to bed, Mom worked Daddy's pecker the same as she did the
last time and popped his spunk down her throat in a few seconds over ten
minutes.  No problem.  Daddy was pretty ready to pop that night.

   Some six weeks more passed and I got two D's on my Spring report card.
Whoopsie.

   Daddy's cock: Washed.  Mom's and my asses: Red.  Gip was spanking harder
as if someone had coached him and Stevie on how to hit on the bottom of our
butts and make a spanking hurt.  Stevie's hand was almost as brutal as
Daddy's.  Mom's timed suck: 13 minutes, 11 seconds.  I was getting kind of
nervous.  Both our bottoms had black sploches on them when we rolled out of
Daddy's bed the next morning.  It hurt to slide on my panties.

   My end of year grades had the same two D's and one new F.  I had to go
to Summer School to make up my Science credits.  Daddy was pretty mad. 
Summer school cut into my time putting in my extra summer share of the farm
chores, and he had to keep one of "his men" on a few weeks longer that year
because of me.  That took money out of his pocket.  He spanked me like he
was mad, too.

   That night when Mom was working his pecker, the second hand of the
little clock swung past the fourteen minute mark and Daddy wasn't even
breathing very hard.  I knew I was in a spot of trouble.  I looked at Mom
and Mom looked at me.  That was rare.  She usually acted as if she and
Daddy were the only ones and I was invisible.  But that night when Daddy
closed his eyes for a long blink, Mom's eyes flittered over at the clock
and then she looked at me kind of panicky.  She was trying to tell me
something with the twitch of her head and her shifting eyes, looking up at
Daddy's closed eyes as he moaned and stretched his legs under Mom's bobbing
mouth.  She was trying to mention something about his face.  She popped off
Daddy's cockhead and started licking the front side of Daddy's dick above
and below my hand.  She mouthed something three times before I understood
the shape of her lips: "Kiss him."

   I leaned up and kissed Daddy six long, soft smooches in a row.  Right on
his mouth.  Then I did something I saw in a TV movie.  I leaned over and
licked Daddy right on the earlobe.  Daddy startled.

   "Don't be a whore, girl," he muttered into my ear.

   "No Daddy," I whispered in his ear with really hot breath.  "No, I love
you, Daddy.  A girl should like to kiss her Daddy if she loves him, right?
Oh, I love you, Daddy." I gave the bottom of his ear a little bite and he
jumped and squirted his spunk into Mom's mouth.  I felt his pecker kind of
thump in my hand as he squirted.  That was unusual.

   Daddy was very happy after that.  He left the lights on and took turns
kissing Mom and me for a while, his hands all over our butts and backs. 
When he'd kiss mom they'd both poke their tongues out and rub them over one
another.  When he'd kiss me, his lips were together, but they were intense.

   I guess Daddy never noticed that Mom was a full minute and eighteen
seconds over her time limit that night.

   Mom noticed.  Whatever rule she had about not talking about Thursdays
with me stopped and she started coaching me about what to do on Thursdays A
LOT.

   Mom told me that around minute twelve I should always kiss Daddy like a
good girl.  Lot's of whispers about how much I love him while I kiss him.
"And put some honey in your voice," she said.  Mom also said to save my
strength and try and cheat my little hand-pumping strokes into longer
strokes as time ran down.  She said Daddy wouldn't notice it if it were
close to the end of Mom's suck, the same way he didn't notice that we went
over time when I was kissing him.

   "Once he starts that heavy breathing thing," Mom said, "don't be afraid
to cheat.  Reach down and start rubbing his balls with your free hand. 
Very gently.  Once they are tight...  Uh...  Have you ever kissed Daddy's
balls?  On Tuesdays?"

   "No!" I said, indignantly.  "I don't have sex with my own Dad!"

   Mom just looked at me like I was retarded.  Then she shook her head and
rolled her eyes.  "Ignorance is bliss," she muttered.  "Well anyway, you're
going to do a lot more than kiss his balls if we don't snap his bean in
fifteen minutes.  We.  Us.  Not just me.  But us.  It's us against your Dad
when he's all blustery and bossy like that.  So think about it.  Try
kissing his balls.  They don't taste any different than a kiss on his
cheek. Don't do it slutty.  Don''t stretch your tongue.  He won't like
that. Not from you.  Just soft kisses.  On his balls.  Just like you kiss
his lips."

   I made a face.  I was so naive.  "Okay," I said.  "If it keeps us out of
trouble.  If it keeps us from getting our kitty's spanked."

   Mom put both her hands on my cheeks and looked at me real somberly. 
"Honey," she said.  "One day we're going to be on the bubble and I'm not
going to suck him off in time.  Sooner or later he's going to make you do
it.  Even if he has to cheat, or say it was fifteen minutes when it was
actually twelve.  Or whatever.  He's going to make you suck.  You need to
start thinking about how you're going to do it.  You need to practice
keeping your jaw way open for a long time."

   I shook my head no.  "It won't go in my mouth," I said.  "It's too big."

   Mom laughed.  "Honey, if only it were that easy."

   That weekend Mom slipped into my room right before bedtime.  She had a
big box tucked into her robe and she was acting skittish.  Her ear's perked
up, listening for Daddy or the boys.  When she was satisfied it was safe,
she pulled out a long black box with a cellophane window across the front.
"Kong Dong Dildo" in pink letters across the top.  Below that there was a
shape of what looked like two mudflap silhouette girls leg wrestling.  A
huge blue wiener was in the box, only the plastic wiener had heads on both
ends instead of one.  Mom wrestled the big fake wiener out of the packaging
and handed it to me.

   "You have to keep this hidden, Caryn.  The boys can't find this and your
Dad can't find it.  Never ever."

   I didn't know what to do with it.  It was heavy.  It was molded out of
some kind of crazy Jell-o plastic that was thick and wobbly and firm, but
not rock hard like Daddy's pecker.  It was almost twice as long as Daddy's
dick, and that was pretty long.

   I looked at it suspiciously.

   "I know," Mom said.  "But it's almost the same size thickness as your
Dad's cock.  Practice getting your jaw used to stretching around this
dildo."

   Dildo.  I'd never heard the word in my eleven and an half years.  It was
a funny word, but the big rubber pecker was absolutely bizarre.  I sniffed
it.  It smelled awful.  It smelled like chemicals.

   "Shit goddammit Caryn," Mom grumbled.  "Knock it off!  Look." She
pointed to the price tag on the box.  It was $70 dollars.  That was a small
fortune to us.  That much I understood at eleven.  "Do you think I'd spend
this much money fucking around?  You spend ten minutes every night before
you go to bed practicing sucking on the end of that until your jaw can do
it without biting.  If you bite Dad's cock, getting our kitty's spanked raw
is just going to be a warm-up for what he'll do when he's hard, mad, and
hurt at the same time.  Don't fuck around.  Practice.  Every night except
Tuesday and Thursday, and Caryn, I'm serious.  I'll burn this box in the
trash barrel in just a few minutes.  You do not.  Get.  Caught with this,
okay?  Keep it hid in your bottom drawer, under the pants, okay?

   I nodded.

   As soon as Mom left the room I hid the dildo.  I didn't practice that
night.  If I knew how soon her prediction about me sucking Daddy would come
to pass, maybe I would have.  I was eleven and a half.  I told myself it
would never really happen.

   It happened less than a month later.

   Considering that I can remember every minute, every smell, every taste,
every texture of skin that crossed my tongue the whole night...  it's crazy
that I can't even remember what got us the Thursday Punishment in the first
place.  I remember it was something my Mom did.  I think she got in some
kind of pushing match with Gip over him watching TV instead of doing
homework.  I think he called Mom a whore and told her to shut up.  He'd
stopped calling Mom "Mom" after the first Punishment Night.  Gip addressed
Mom as Jennifer or Jen, just like Dad.  I'm not sure exactly how we got
from Mom's skirmish to punishment, but we did.

   Thursday before super, I was on my knees beside the tub, soaping Daddy's
pecker from bottom to top.  I could tell he liked it best when I cleaned
the top part and spiraled the suds around his cockhead.  Daddy leaned back
and was really moaning a lot.  The higher I soaped on his pecker, the more
he moaned.

   He always stopped me when he got too excited, so I waited for him to
dismiss me.  But he seemed to be having a really good time getting his dick
washed.  My little hand couldn't even close all the way around Daddy's
pecker, so I had to twist it around a lot to get the soap bubbles
everywhere.  Thinking about what Mom had said to me, I started cranking one
soapy hand around his swollen cock head and with the other hand I reached
down in the warm water and gently rubbed Daddy's balls.

   Daddy's legs kicked in the water.  A big white jet of his spunk shot out
of the tip of his pecker, maybe two feet in the air before it all came
together in a big wad and splashed back down in the tub water.  Then
another squirt.  And again.  Four.  Five.

   "Oh shit," Daddy groaned.  "Caryn, girl, you shouldn't make your daddy
come like that.  Making men squirt their spunk is a job for whores.  You
don't want to be a whore, do you?"

   I shook my head.  I did not want to be a whore.  I wanted to be a good
girl.

   "We've got one whore in this house, we don't need two."

   I was still spiraling a hand of soapsuds and sperm around the top of his
pecker.  Daddy pulled my hand off and I rinsed it in the tub water.  I
waited for Daddy to dismiss me, but he just laid there in the grey water.
Instead of being happy like he usually was after Mom "snapped his bean," he
looked really sad.

   "Jesus," he muttered to himself.  "Jesus fucking Christ, what did you
do, girl?" Daddy looked at me like I'd said something that hurt his
feelings.  "Daughters should love their Daddies, but they shouldn't whore
for their Daddy's spunk," he said slowly.  He almost looked like he was
going to cry.  He was drowning under guilt and remorse, but I didn't
understand that then.  "Caryn...  Jeez, honey.  I told you not to do that."

   I knew I was in trouble for something, but I still wasn't sure what kind
of trouble I was in.

   "Christalmighty, Carebear.  Listen to me, willya?  Daughters can tease
their Daddy's pecker but they shouldn't please their Daddy's pecker.  Don't
you get it?"

   I nodded.  "Sorry, Daddy."

   Daddy sighed.  "I'm sorry too, Caryn.  I'm sorry you want to be a whore
so bad, but if that's what you want, then I guess that's how I'll treat
you."

   "I don't want to be a whore, Daddy," I said.  Tears of shame started
welling up in my eyes.  I wasn't sure where I went wrong, but Daddy sure
made me feel ashamed for whatever I did.

   "Well, maybe we can start you over tomorrow then.  Maybe you can earn
your way out of being a whore when you take your punishment tonight.  But I
can't just let it go.  At least for the next ten hours, you're a whore who
jacked the spunk out of your own Daddy's balls.  Do you understand that?"

   I did.

   Daddy dismissed me and I ran into the kitchen bawling my eyes out.

   Naked at the table, I could not eat.  For the first time I was too
ashamed to eat.  There were no snacks in our cupboard.  Just two meals a
day and sometimes three after slaughter or after the truck came to collect
the cow milk.  Every previous other time I had been naked and waiting for
spankings at dinner I still could eat.  Not that night.  Daddy was so
quiet. I kept thinking about the look of disappointment on his face as he
sloshed in grey water swirling with spirals of his spunk.  I wanted to
crawl under the table and hide.

   I really knew I was in big trouble a little later when he called Mom for
spankings first.  She was the one who got us punishment, but he was all
business with her.  I think he only called her a whore twice.

   Then Mom was back in the floor and Daddy was staring at me and shaking
his head.

   "Daughter," he sighed, "Whore.  Get up and present to me."

   I did.  The tears started right away.  I couldn't help it.  I'd never
been so ashamed.  I just stood there with my hands behind my back and
crying.

   Daddy took a deep breath.  "Boys," he sighed.  "Your sister...  Well,
you tell it, Caryn.  Tell your brothers."

   I was crying so hard at that point I don't know how anybody even
understood what I was saying. 
"IjackedthespunkoutofDaddy'speckerandI'mawhore!"

   "You boys get that?  You're whore sister has been taking advice from
your whore mother, apparently.  That little bitch reached down in the tub
and stroked and jacked my pecker.  Jacked it until I spewed.  Can you
fucking believe that?"

   Gip and Steve played along and shook their heads in disgust.

   "Did you like that, whore?" Daddy asked me softly.  "Did you like
jacking my pecker?"

   "Noooo!" I bawled.

   "Well you sure look like you did.  You looked pretty pleased with
yourself."

   "I thought you li-li-lked it, Daddy!"

   "Liked it?  Do I look like I'm proud of having a whore for a daughter?"

   "No-oh-oh, Daddy!"

   "I certainly don't," he whispered.  "I most certainly do not.  Over."

   He didn't even pussy-check me.  God almighty he laid into my bottom with
a ferocity I'd never known before.  From the first smack I lost all staying
discipline, as he called it.  My legs and arms tried to crawl off him,
crawl to safety.  I'd hear the crack of his hand and then a second later
the heat of the blow would burn up through me in forest-fire waves. 
Crackity-crackity-ka pow.  He worked my left ass cheek ten times in a row
before he started on my right ass cheek.  Then it was back and forth.  Then
it was low on my legs, working up a little higher to my back with each
scarlet handprint.

   I kicked.  I slapped at Daddy's left leg.  I corkscrewed.  I didn't stop
one centimeter of his big hands from getting exactly where he wanted them
to go.

   He stopped spanking and then five seconds later the heat of it all just
ran together and washed up into my face.  I tried to lift off his leg.  but
he held me in place by my hair.  I didn't know what he was doing, and then
his spanking hand rained down again and somewhere between swat two and swat
three I blacked out.  Mercifully.  I don't know if he even stopped then.  I
just know I came to laying in my spot in the floor.

   "Get to your chores, boys." That's the sound that brought me back to
consciousness.

   "But dad," Gip pleaded.  "We didn't even get our turn."

   "You'll get yours," Daddy said evenly.  "Sometime between tomorrow and
Monday night, your whore sister will jack you both."

   "When?" Gip asked.

   "I don't give a shit.  Whenever you tell her, as long as y'all have your
chores done.  If she wants to be a whore, then she can see what it's like
to be a full-time whore."

   "What about Mom?" Stevie asked.

   "Steven," Daddy said in his most exasperated tone, "Shut up, Son.  Just
stick a sock in it."

   Daddy was not late to bed that night.  Three minutes later I was still
crying after I peed and mounted the steps.  Daddy was in the middle of the
bed with a stern, disappointed look on his face.  Mom was late, so I had to
just kneel on my side of the bed while Daddy glared at me like I was dirt.

   I thought Mom would get spankings on her kitty for being late to
Thursday Punishment bed, but she just crawled between Daddy's legs and
looked up at him.  Daddy didn't say anything, he just nodded.  Mom leaned
way up and kissed the face of Daddy's pecker real hard and pulled it up
with suction until she could slip her mouth around it and start working.

   I was waiting for Daddy's usual command of "Jen, get down and work my
pecker!" But he didn't say anything.  I sidled up to put my knees in
Daddy's hips and reached out to grab the middle of his shaft.  Daddy
swatted my hand away.  I didn't understand and he didn't say anything to
explain why I couldn't grab it.  As scary as Daddy was when his pecker was
hard, or when he was mad, that was nothing compared to the terror of seeing
Daddy's rules change right in front of my eyes and not knowing what I was
supposed to be doing.

   After a few minutes I tried to kiss Daddy on the lips, but he kept his
lips real tight and didn't kiss back at all.  Around eight minutes in, I
tried again, but Daddy ignored me just the same way.

   The second hand of the clock swung past eleven minutes and Daddy was
still just laying there watching Mom bob her mouth all around his pecker.
He was glaring.  He looked just like he looked when he watched his Sooners
on the TV and they were losing.

   At thirteen minutes I saw something I'd never seen before.  Daddy's
steel pecker began to wilt a little.  It began to bend forward instead of
backwards.  Mom wasn't gulping spunk, I knew that much.

   I tried to remember what Mom had told me.  She said to kiss him.  That
didn't work.  She said to put some honey in my voice and talk sweet.

   "Daddy, I'm so sorry," I said.  "I'm sorry I was a whore.  I want to be
a good girl for you.  I- i- I- was just having too much fun washing your
pecker today," I said.  It seemed like a useful lie.

   Daddy kept seething, but his breathing got a little deeper.  His pecker
started bending in the right direction.

   What else had Mom told me?  Kiss Daddy's balls.  Right.  Soft kisses.

   I had to scoot back a little and get my face under Mom's bobbing head.
My finger nails poured over Daddy's nut sack.  It was already kind of
tight, but not all-the-way tight.  Daddy flexed a little.  It was working,
His frost was melting, just a little.  I leaned down and felt the heat from
his crotch and Mom's swinging boobs as I closed in on Daddy's balls and
pecked out a kiss.  Then another.  Then I tried to make my kisses extra
soft and lippy.  I wasn't even sure where to kiss.  On the fronts of them?
On the bottoms?  Should I pull the sack up and kiss the backs of Daddy's
balls?  I tried a little bit of everything.  Daddy's ballsack started
getting smaller and smaller.  Mom grunted and moaned and really started
going at Daddy's pecker hard.  Mom jostled up-and-down so hard that her big
boobs started slapping into my cheek.

   "Okay, " Daddy said loudly.  "That's enough."

   I pulled up.  I thought he had squirted spunk.  He said it just he
sounded when he'd squirted all his spunk out and he was ready for kisses.
Mom was still working his pecker really wild and hard.  Her mouth was too
far down on Daddy's pecker for Daddy to be shooting spunk.  She was making
really deep mouth strokes.  When she'd get as deep as she could go her face
kind of vibrated.  I figured out she was bouncing the very back of her
throat on the tip of Daddy's dick.  It must have hurt her.  I wondered why
it didn't make her gag or throw up.

   "I said that's enough," Daddy was a little louder this time.

   Mom disobeyed and kept moaning and slurping.  Daddy got mad and reached
down and grabbed his own pecker and yanked it out of Mom's mouth.  Mom was
still trying to suck so hard that it made a pop when Daddy finally pulled
it out of her mouth.

   That's when I noticed the clock.  We were at nineteen and a half
minutes. Daddy didn't cheat.  We just didn't "snap his bean" in time. 
Daddy knew we were over, but he gave us some extra.  He gave us extra time
and we still didn't get the spunk out of Daddy's pecker.

   "Get up, here, Whore," Daddy said to Mom.  She crawled up in the crook
of his right arm.

   "You know the rules, Whore," Daddy said to me.  "Caryn, get down and
work my pecker."

   I took too long crawling between Daddy's legs and he barked at me for
it. I reached up and grabbed Daddy's pecker right in the middle, the way I
always did.  I pulled it back until it pointed at the ceiling the way I
always did.  I looked up and Daddy and Mom were both staring at me blankly.
I put my lips to the head of Daddy's pecker.  It seemed hotter against my
mouth than it did in my hand.  Mom's wet spit was still all over it.  I
looked at Mom and Daddy again, but there was no mercy in their expression.

   I'd never sucked the dildo mom gave me.  Not even once.  I was fucked.

   I dropped my jaw open as far as I could and leaned in.  Daddy's
peckerhead scraped between my teeth.  I wasn't looking at Daddy's face at
that point, so I don't know if he showed any pain.  I pushed and pushed and
stretched my jaw until my ears popped.  It was like trying to fit a whole
Summer plum in my mouth without my teeth breaking through the skin.

   Again I became acutely aware of the smell of Daddy's pecker.  I could
smell his balls, too.  Daddy's pre-come oozed down on my tongue and I could
feel the twang of the salt move across the taste buds on the back ridges.

   I kept willing my head to move downward with my lips stretching farther
and farther.  Then the crown of Daddy's pecker head was on the inside of my
teeth and I had a little tiny bit of room to close my suction and bounce my
suck up and down the way Mom did.

   The hot smoothness of Daddy's peckerhead skin against my tongue was
strangely satisfying.  Mom's spit didn't taste like anything and my saliva
quickly took over hers.

   Daddy moaned.  I looked up to see him and Mom start tongue-wrestling
again.  Sucking is a natural instinct, even if sucking a cock isn't natural
for an eleven year old girl.  So I just did the best suck I could as far
down on Daddy's dick as I could, which wasn't very far.  Every minute or so
the pain in my jaw got to be too much, too high in my cheeks under eyes,
and I had to come all the way off Daddy's pecker.  I'd catch my breath and
start back down on it again before Daddy could yell at me.  Sometimes Daddy
was watching me intently.  Sometimes he was wet kissing mom.  Once, as I
was catching my breath, I looked up and Mom was lifting her boob into
Daddy's mouth while Daddy sucked away on her nipple and squeezed the other
boob with his hand.

   I'd never seen Daddy suck Mom's tits before in all the time I'd watched
them sex each other.

   THAT made my pussy go wet.  I don't know why.  All those times I'd
watched them.  All the pussy rubbing before spanking.  All the scratching
Daddy's balls and fingertipping his sticky cock in the dark.  And it was
seeing Mom lift her big tit into Daddy's sucking mouth that made my pussy
let loose with a slippery sex gush for the first time.

   I don't know how long I sucked.  It felt like two hours but it was
probably only ten minutes.  My hair kept falling into my mouth as I sucked.
I didn't plan on that.  It seemed like I was constantly pulling hair off my
cheek and tucking it behind my ear.  Very distracting.

   My jaw was absolutely on fire when I heard my Mom start talking really
mean to me.

   "Yeah, suck his dick, you nasty little whore!"

   I looked up as I made my little mouth bobs and saw Mom was talking to
me. I was really hurt that she turned on me.  Daddy was starting to breath
hard.

   "Don't just sit there you Daddy cocksucking little whore!" Mom spat. 
"Work that pecker.  Work that pecker, bitchwhore!"

   My face heated up with shame again.  About the time I thought I might
start crying I caught a wink from Mom.

   **We.  Us.  Not just me.  But us.  It's us against your Dad when he's
all blustery and bossy like that.**

   Mom's words rang somewhere in my head.  I could see Daddy breathing
faster.  I didn't understand what Mom was doing, but it was obviously
working.

   For the first time I moaned around Daddy's dick, imitating what Mom did
when Daddy got close to spewing.  I started twisting my head a little more
from side-to-side, working my tongue farther around the sides of Daddy's
pecker head.

   "Oh for the love of GOD!" Mom said in Daddy's trademark tone of disgust,
"The little whore likes sucking her Daddy's dick as much as she liked
jacking it.  More, even.  Just look at her.  Little whore better find her
own cock to suck and leave my man's dick alone.  That's my delicious spunk
in my man's---"

   I don't know what Mom said after that.  Nothing prepares a girl for that
first goopy explosion of semen in her mouth.  Daddy didn't have to tell me
not to let go until he was finished squirting.  I knew from all the times I
watched him come in Mom's mouth that I was supposed to keep sucking.  But
once you start choking on the strings of spew, you're cooked.  Survival
instinct is stronger than the fear of getting your kitty spanked raw.  I
couldn't keep riding the bull.  I coughed my way off the tip while it was
still bubbling white floes.  I turned my head to hack some stringy sperm
out to the side and -- just that fast -- Mom jumped down and swallowed
Daddy's pecker and moaned and twisted her head every which way while
Daddy's eyes nearly popped out and rolled down his cheeks.  Mom even pulled
off Daddy's pecker long enough to stick her tongue out and chase all the
dripping sperm that had run to the bottom of Daddy's pecker.

   Mom winked at me again while Daddy was thrashing and arching backwards.

   Daddy was still panting when Mom leaned back and turned off the lamp on
her night stand.  I willed myself to stop coughing and lay down on my side
of the bed.  Daddy moaned and rolled about for another couple of minutes.
Then I heard him kissing Mom.

   I was surprised when he rolled to me and kissed me.  Then his mouth
opened and pushed my suck-swollen lips apart at the same time.  Daddy's hot
tongue pushed into my mouth.  It was a crazy feeling.  It made my pussy
warm and wet again.  I hoped he didn't pussy check me then.  He'd know I
was a whore for sure.  He didn't.

   "Good job, Carebear," Daddy said soft.  There was something else ringing
through the tone of his voice.  I didn't recognize it at eleven, but now I
understand it was remorse and guilt.  "That was an excellent way to show
your Daddy you love him."

   "Thank you, Daddy." It was all I could think to say.

   "I, uh...  Shit.  I, uh, I want you to start over tomorrow as a good
girl and not a whore," he said.

   "Thank you, Daddy." I was going to cry again, but this time because I
was happy.  "Do I still have to jack Gip and Stevie?"

   "Oh uh...  " Daddy looked like he was going to throw up.  "We'll burn
that bridge tomorrow, okay?  Get some sleep."

   That night wasn't the end of my father's molestation, but it sure put it
on hold for for just about a full year.  The spankings stopped.  At least
for me.  Mom got spanked once or twice more that year, but it was just
Daddy and the boys in the TV room when he did it.  Daddy's after-bath
inspections became infrequent, and they were much more formal and less
handsy and involved a lot less sniffing.  When he did inspect me he seemed
to be looking for any sign that my boobs were growing.  He was also looking
at the outside of my pussy more closely, but he sniffed at the inner pink
part a lot less.

   On Tuesday nights I still scratched his balls, but he didn't pull my
hand up and tell me to rub his hard dick with my fingertips any more.

   And Mom and Daddy stopped having sex on Thursday nights altogether. 
That was certainly odd.

   It sounds funny to say I was a late bloomer, considering I had swallowed
Daddy's sperm when I was a flatchestd girl of eleven.  But my puberty
didn't start in earnest until after I was thirteen and maybe three months.
That's when I tried to pull a stray hair off the side of my mons in the
bathtub to find out that it was attached to me.  My first little titty
bubbles started right after that.

   The first time that Daddy inspected me and saw my nipples raising up off
my ribs just a little he smiled like did when a cow dropped a calf.  He
giggled when he pushed my legs back and saw the little whisp of fuzz around
my kitty.

   The very next Tuesday after the inspection that discovered my first
wisps of pussy hair, Daddy pulled my hand higher after I scratched his
balls and made me give him a finger job again.  Daddy turned the light on
and got up on his knees.  He had me lay on my back while he knelt beside me
and jacked his own dick with his hand while he looked at my naked body, all
over.  He jacked his pecker with his right hand and his left hand started
going all up and down my front side.  He rubbed my fuzzy little kitty a
lot. He checked me to see if I was a wet whore, but I wasn't.

   Then he grunted and sprayed all over my belly and chest.  I knew we were
going back to the stuff we had done when I was eleven.

   I wasn't sure what to do with the sticky, goopy mess Daddy dressed me
in. It was hot when it hit my skin but it got cold and uncomfortable really
fast.

   "Rub it in," Daddy said, still from his knees.  "It's good for your
skin. No, both hands.  There you go.  Rub it into your tits until it starts
to dry up."

   Daddy had obviously never rubbed his sperm into his skin because it
didn't dry up at all, It just kept swirling around and getting colder.

   "Push some down into your pussy.  No, the inside part.  Farther down. 
There you go."

   Daddy got tired of watching me rub his spunk all over me and he turned
out the light.  I got under the covers and rolled on my belly until I had
transferred most of Daddy's sticky goo to the contour sheet.

   Two nights later it wasn't a punishment Thursday, but Daddy made Mom and
me take turns sucking his pecker.  I straddled his hairy right leg.  Mom
straddled his hairy left leg.  Daddy insisted that we hump against his
shins until he could feel the warmth of our pussies.

   Then he had us each take turns sucking for five minutes each.  Mom
started first and I stroked Daddy's shaft while she sucked.  Then I sucked
while Mom stroked his shaft.  He said whichever girl was working his pecker
when he squirted would be his "special good girl" for the week.  I didn't
care so much about being a "special good girl," but we were working Daddy,
so that meant the one of us who wasn't a "special good girl" was probably
going to be a "bad girl whore bitch." I didn't want Daddy's spunk in my
mouth, but I wanted it more than I wanted one of his ass beatings.

   Daddy started his heavy breathing after Mom and I had each had two turns
sucking.  I was sure that Mom was going to get it on the next shift change.
Daddy squirted right as he was telling Mom to switch and let me suck.  Mom
never let go.  Her mouth went to Daddy's pecker head and he jerked on the
bed while Mom's throat gulped and gulped.  Mom turned out the light and
there was a lot of kissing in the dark.  There was a lot of Dad sticking
his tongue against my tongue.  Daddy's hand started rubbing in and out of
the folds of my pussy.  I could hear Mom's pussy make its trademark wet
slapping sound and I knew Daddy was feeling both our kitties up at the same
time.

   I was a late puberty bloomer, but when it happened, it seemed to happen
all at once.  It was the summer of my thirteenth year.  My mom said that
the same thing happened to her.  All her friends had their period before
she even had a single pussy hair.  But then it all jumped out of her in a
matter of months.

   For all the years where Daddy would inspect me, either in the bath or
after the bath in my room, he'd pinch at my nipples and say, "Does that
hurt?  Does that feel tender?  No?  Not at all?  Does it tickle at all when
I do this?  No?  You sure?"

   Well when my tits came on fast and big, I finally understood.  It was
like I had electricity running through my chest.  I felt everything a girl
is supposed to feel when her tits grow, only it all came in big waves.

   Mom actually got mad at me.  Bras were expensive and I exploded through
the A, the B, and two C cups in less than five months.

   My period started.  Just like Mom I didn't think it was ever going to
come.  When it came, I wanted it gone.  I thought it smelled.  I thought it
was some kind of traitorous act of my body to get my ass beat by daddy when
he sniffed me and inspected me and I was probably going to smell like the
slaughter pit..

   And speaking of my ass.  Daddy really liked how my butt got a little
bigger.  "Oh, yes, yes, yes!" He'd say as he clucked his tongue and ran his
big paws over my naked backside.  "Finally.  Finally!"

   My brothers, eleven and twelve by that time, noticed my new equipment
too.  Especially Gip.  He started pinching my shirt where my nipples were
and grabbing a big handful of boob as I'd walk around a corner of the
hallway into a room.  Stevie was constantly looking at my chest when he
talked to me.

   Boys.

   There's one part that I kind of skipped over.  That's the part about the
dildo mom bought me when I was eleven.  I told you I didn't even touch it
before Daddy make me suck him that first time.  Well after that near-miss I
did what Mom told me to do.  Even though Daddy stopped molesting me during
that time, I always kind of knew he'd start again.  So the next night after
when Mom didn't make time and I had to suck Daddy for the first time, I
started doing like Mom told me.  After lights-out I'd scurry off the bed in
the dark and ease my bottom drawer open and pull out that heavy monster. 
I'd jump back in bed and turn my back to the door and practice sucking the
big plastic head on the dildo.  I hated the chemical taste of the rubber
gel stuff it was made out of, but I practiced sucking it anyway.  I
practiced until I could get it a little deeper and a little deeper into my
mouth.  I was nowhere near as deep on it as Mom was when she sucked Daddy's
pecker.  She could get about two-fifths of Daddy in her mouth.  I was lucky
to get one-fifth.  As I found out when Daddy put me back down on his
pecker, one-fifth of a deep throat was enough to please Daddy.

   I started to think about Sully when I practiced on the dildo.  Sully was
one of Daddy's hired farm hands and he was pretty dreamy.  He must have
been in his mid-twenties, and he kind of looked like Rick Springfield, if
Rick Springfield had been a cowboy.  He was always winking at me and being
real sweet to me.  He talked to me like a grown up and I really liked that.
Sully had an expression on his face when Gip was in the barn that kind of
make it seem like he didn't want to be around Gip.  I didn't know what to
think about that, but when he was stand-offish to Gip and nice to me at the
same time, it made me feel special and a little bit dizzy.

   I had a fantasy that Sully and I got married and Daddy couldn't make me
work his pecker any more.  Daddy had said he owned me until the day he
walked me down the aisle, so why not hand me off to Sully?  It would
probably be fun to sex Sully's pecker.  Sully's spunk would taste like ice
cream instead of a salty metal pipe.  Sully wouldn't call me a whore while
I sucked him, he'd just keep saying "Oh, that's a good girl, Caryn.  You
work my pecker sooooo good, Caryn!  Oh, you are the best wife, Caryn!"

   After I sucked for a while the dildo would warm up in my mouth.  When
the dildo was warm and I was thinking about sexing Sully at the same time,
I started to get the whore juice dribbling out of my pussy and onto my
legs.

   I knew that sooner or later a boy or my husband Sully or most likely
Daddy was going to want to put his pecker in my pussy.  Boys liked being
sucked, but they also wanted to fuck.  Like a mouse in a pet snake cage, I
knew that it was just a matter of time until I was fucked, and probably
soon.

   When the dildo head was warm and my pussy was wet from thinking about
Sully, sometimes I'd put it down against my kitty and close my legs around
it.  There were little round textured bumps on the dildo below the head and
above the shaft, kind of the collar area of the rubber pecker.  Daddy's
pecker didn't have even little bumps like the dildo did, but when I'd pull
the dildo up and down against the front of my wet kitty, I started to get
the itch for more.  The more I did it, the better I felt and the more I did
it.  Sometimes I'd push the blue dildo pecker head against my little pussy
hole and try to look down at it in the moonlight.  It sure didn't look like
the dildo would ever fit in my pussy, which also meant that Daddy's pecker
probably wouldn't fit in my pussy either.

   Somehow, Sully's pecker would fit and it wouldn't hurt and it would
scratch that nagging little itch I could feel way up in my whore-wet kitty.

   Daddy jacked on my growing tits every Tuesday and Mom and me sucked his
Pecker every Thursday.  Mom almost always got Daddy's spunk.  I got it
maybe three times.

   Daddy soon stopped jacking on my Tuesday tits and started sucking them
when they got a little bigger.  Sucking turned to chomping on my nipples.
It didn't hurt that bad, but it made my pussy wet and I didn't like Daddy
making my pussy wet.  Not even when he started rubbing his fingers all over
my pink insides.  The rubbing felt good on my pussy and especially on my
growing button, but it was Daddy so it still felt really wrong in my gut.

   Daddy kissed me a lot, almost always with his tongue.

   A few weeks before I turned fourteen, Daddy had me sucking his pecker
almost every Tuesday night.  Only he didn't want me to get his spunk in his
mouth unless it was the Thursday night contest with Mom.  When it was just
me and him he'd say, "Show Daddy you love him, Carebear.  Now don't suck
dick like a whore.  Just be a good girl and tease Daddy nice and gentle."

   After Daddy had enough teasing, he's say, "Okay, Carebear, get your
mouth off and jack Daddy's pecker."

   I'd pump his pecker head in a fast handjob until the foot-and-a-half
fountain of while spew flew up in the air.  Then he made sure I didn't stop
jacking the sloppy mess until he had it all out of his balls and he told me
to stop.

   A few times he was really really hard and ready when he said, "Show
Daddy you love him, Carebear." After a couple of minutes of my softest suck
he jizzed in my mouth anyway.  Then he'd act like he was mad at me and he'd
call me a peckersucking whore.  He wasn't nice to me after the light went
out.

   It wasn't many weeks later that I turned 14.  On my birthday (which was
a Sunday, I remember) I found out that Daddy's big pecker really would fit
inside my pussy.  It probably took seven or eight fuckings before it
stopped hurting real bad.  I had one fucking where it almost felt good. 
Then Daddy started fucking me doggy and it hurt all over again.  He never
squirted inside me.  He always pulled out and I felt the hot line of his
come shots criss-crossing my back or my neck.  I was so small compared to
Daddy, and Daddy would grind his balls into my ass as he squirted, which
meant his dick was almost half way up my spine when he pumped his spunk.  I
always got a lot of his spew in the back of my hair.

   After the first time Daddy fucked me doggy, he called me Carebear when I
sucked and then bitch this and whore that when he fucked me.  That's also
when he started turning me upside down on the bed when he fucked me, even
when it was missionary.  I still have no idea what that was all about.

   There were still Tuesdays and Thursdays when I was 100 percent sure that
I was going to get Daddy's pecker either in my mouth or in my pussy or
both. Daddy also started showing up at my bed on other nights too. 
Sometimes right before I turned off the light.  Sometimes I'd wake up to
him coming in before the 3:30 a.m.  milking for a quick suck or fuck. 
(Usually a fuck because he was in a hurry and could control the pace). 
Sometimes he'd wake me up at 4:20 on his way back to bed from the early
milking.

   When I sucked Daddy in his bed, I knelt on the bed between his legs. 
When I sucked Daddy from my bed, he wanted me kneeling in the floor while
he sat on the edge.  Mom and Daddy's frame and mattress was too high for
that to work, but my bed was just the right height for me to kneel in the
floor and suck dick.  I almost liked it better that way because I wasn't
always pulling hair away from the corners of my mouth when I was kneeling.

   My pussy would get wet in anticipation of Daddy's fuck.  That doesn't
mean I liked it any better, but my pussy knew it was inevitable and she'd
slick up around the times she knew a fucking was either certain or even
possible.  Once Daddy kissed me with his tongue, I knew I was going to suck
his pecker and probably take a steady dicking in my kitty.  My pussy
thought of juicing up as self-defense, but Daddy thought I was just a wet
pussy whore who liked boys too much.

   Maybe three months later I squirted on Daddy's pecker when he was
fucking me doggy and he knew right away that I had orgasmed.  He didn't
shut up about it for a week.  He started calling me a whore in front of my
brothers.  He told my Mom a dozen times when i was in earshot that I'd
squirted on his pecker like a summer squall.

   I brought home another bad report card and Dad didn't even wait until a
Thursday to strip me and Mom at dinner and put us both through his
punishment ritual for the first time in two and a half years.

   My pussy was as wet and loud as Mom's when Daddy checked me.  His
spanking was so viscous it left my eyes crossed when I stood up.

   Since the last time I'd been punished in front of the boys, there was
some seriously messed up dynamic brewing between Gip and Mom.  Gip was
asserting himself more and more as Mom's boss.  He'd even grabbed Mom and
slapped her clothed ass real hard.  There was a lot of pushing and when Mom
took it to Daddy, Daddy really didn't do anything at all.  He didn't stick
up for Mom and he didn't give Gip permission to discipline Mom either. 
Daddy's refusal to referee just ensured that the tension in the house
festered.

   Daddy had started training both Gip and Stevie to box.  There was a
Silver Mittens league in a town a couple miles North of our farm.  Daddy
ran most of their training from the farm.  There was a heavy bag hanging
from a chain in the little tractor barn.  The tractor barn had a wooden
floor that Daddy said was good for jumping rope and practicing footwork. 
Gip and Stevie were both natural boxers.  They'd spar each other.  Stevie
could hold his own against Gip, even though Gip was almost a head taller.

   Gip hit his puberty early.  He was already sprouting up into a full
blown man and starting to get furry arms like Daddy's.  I think Daddy
injected Gip and Stevie both with Growth Hormone.  I know he gave them some
kind of shots in their butts.

   I mention all this because when Gip took his spot in the punishment
chair, I looked at him and knew I was in big trouble.  Not only because of
his bigger size and his muscles, but he was bulging out really big in his
pants and he had a really snarky, shit-eating grin on his face.  He looked
kinda evil.

   When Gip checked my pussy he didn't rush through it.  He rubbed for a
long time.  He also had learned what a clitoris was because he was working
my button hard and making me jump up on my toes.  Gip smiled his evil smile
and ran his index finger around my clit over and over.

   Of course he was just brutal on my tits and especially my nipples.  He
pinched hard.  He twisted hard.  He pulled and stretched way hard and way
far.  He almost made me fall over, he stretched my nips so hard.  Between
my tears I could see the wetness on his lips and I knew he was actually
drooling.  Drooling.  Can you believe it?  My own brother was twisting the
living shit out of my boobs and his mouth was watering.  Not only was it
humiliating, but I knew it meant there was more of Gip and his hard dick to
deal with in my future.

   Gip's spanking was harder than Daddy's spanking.  The cumulative heat on
my buns was...  Fuck.  It was awful.  I don't even want to think back and
remember how bad that ass beating was.  What I can remember most is how
much my neck hurt from Gip twisting my hair back to try and keep me still
and in place while the cracks against my ass echoed around the living room.
That and Gip grinding his hard-on into my stomach.  My ass was so bruised
that a week later I still had this giraffe print kind of pattern of bruise
splotches all the way down to the backs of my thighs.

   Gip was just as hard on Mom.  When Mom was over Gip's lap, Gip stuffed
two fingers up into Mom's vagina and twisted them all around.  That was the
first time I heard the word "cunt." Gip called Mom a cunt.

   As Mom thrashed and screamed under Gip's ass beating, all I could think
was that I was glad it was her and not me.  Daddy was definitely "out
there," but Gip was acting more and more like a psycho.

   God bless Stevie.  If he'd laid into me, I'd have ended up in a hospital
with third degree burns.  I was already flirting with blisters when he took
the punishment chair.

   Stevie rubbed my pussy with a really curious look on his face.  His
hands mapped out all of my boobs, not just the nipples, but he pulled them
pretty hard too.  I think it hurt worse because Gip had already tried to
pull them off.

   And then he spanked me.  It was solid.  It was firm.  It hurt like holy
hell.  I cried and thrashed from the first swat.  But Stevie didn't spank
me nearly as hard or long as Daddy or Gip.  I'd go so far as to say that if
Stevie was any less firm in his discipline, he probably would have heard
about it from Daddy.  He did what he had to do.  I just wish Stevie had
spanked first instead of last.

   Before Daddy walked out of the room he said, "I promised the boys if
they won their first interleague sparring bout that they could have their
pick of whichever one of you two whores they want to jack or suck their
peckers."

   Daddy didn't have to tell us they both won.  We'd been hearing about it
constantly for the last week.

   "And I've also made it perfectly clear," Daddy continued, "that both
your whore pussies belong to me.  There will be no pussy fucking of my
whores unless it's my pecker doing it.  The boys know that.  If either of
them try to stick a pecker in one of my pussies, you whores...  Well.... 
You still goddamn do what you're told by the men of this house, but you be
sure and let me know and there will be hell to pay with me.  I goddamn
guarantee you that it won't happen twice."

   The sex Daddy made me do a few minutes later was the most disgusting
thing I've ever had to do.  He had Mom and me both go to all fours right
next to each other, only pointed in different directions.  My shoulder was
against Mom's hip.  Then he knelt on the bed in front of me and made me
suck his pecker for a while.  Then he pulled out of my mouth and pushed
straight into doggy fucking Mom's pussy really hard.  We were both so
blistered from Punishment Night that Mom cried when Daddy's abs slapped
against her butt while he bitch-fucked her.

   Then the sumbitch pulled out of Mom's pussy and stuck his wet pecker
back in my mouth.  I almost puked.  There was like a gallon of Mom's pussy
gunk on Daddy's cock.  I didn't suck Daddy the way he wanted right away so
he grabbed my ears and jammed his dick in my throat over and over for a
long time.  I started coughing, but he would have ripped my ears off if I
pulled back any harder.

   Then he was back in Mom's pussy.  Then back in my mouth.  Over and over.
Every time he pulled out of Mom's pussy there was a whole wad of Mom's
gloppy pussy stuff on Daddy's pecker.  I learned my lesson and sucked it
anyway.

   Mom's whore-juice didn't taste like much of anything but it was still
the most disgusting moment of my life, at least for a few minutes longer. I
wanted to die.  The fact that I was tasting my own mom's vaginal
secretions...  Bleh.  That's not sexy.  That's just fucking sick.  After
everything Daddy had put me through, I never really hated him until he made
me taste my Mom,s pussy.  I started hating him that night and I don't think
I ever stopped.

   Daddy eventually spunked into Mom's pussy and he lay back and flopped on
the bed.  Then he made me lick all the come and pussy juice off his
shrinking dick.

   Mom took her place up on the pillow and reached for the lamp light. 
Daddy stopped her.

   "I told that little whore to lick up all my spunk," Daddy said, nodding
at me.

   "I did, Dad.  I licked up every drop," I said.

   "You cleaned my pecker up okay," he said, "But you didn't get every drop
of my spunk."

   I had no idea what he was talking about.  My Mom looked really
uncomfortable.

   But she had to do what she had to do, the same way that Stevie had to
spank me the way that Stevie was expected to spank me.

   "Little whore," Mom said, "Suck my man's spunk out of my twat." She
opened her legs.

   I'm not going to tell you what it was like.  Actual pussy tastes
different than pussy juice.  At least it was probably a tiny bit less awful
because of Daddy's fixation with our hygiene.  I'll tell you that I did a
lot of pretending that I was licking when I wasn't.  There wasn't much of
Daddy's spunk running out of Mom right after sex.  That takes a few minutes
for the sperm to warm up and thin out and go liquid.  And then when sperm
comes back out of a pussy it's more clear than white, so it's not easy to
see what is sperm and what is pussy juice, especially when your pussy juice
is really thick and foamy like mine.  And Mom's.

   So I did it.  Then I said I was done and Daddy had lost interest in the
sex show.  The light went off and I lay there and tried not to throw up. 
It took a long time before the urge to yak passed and I could get some
sleep.  I'd never fantasized about killing my Dad before that night, but I
lay there and envisioned me walking up behind him with the stove poker and
just crushing his skull in, over and over.

   Since all I'm talking about is sex sex sex, it makes it sound like we
were living on the set of a porn movie.  That's because I'm cutting out all
the stuff about school.  I'm cutting out all the stuff about doing my farm
chores.  In addition to my shifts cleaning and slopping the pigs, and in
addition to my shifts cleaning and feeding chickens, and in addition to my
turns at milking those fucking cows three times a day every fucking day of
the fucking year, Mom and I had our non-sexual "woman's chores." The boys
could find an hour to watch television every day, but that's when Mom and
me were washing and folding laundry.  Daddy might watch the Sooners game
for three hours on a Sunday, but that's when Mom and me were sweeping.  Or
changing spunk-stained sheets.  When Daddy was training Gipper and Steven
to box, Mom and I were running for groceries or cooking dinner or even
taking some of the men's shifts at chores.

   You wonder why my grades were so bad?  Part of it was because what
little time I had before for homework I did in my bed before I dropped off
to sleep.  Once I became the family sex slave, I didn't even have that time
at my discretion any more.

   My guidance counselor didn't know about the sex slave part, but she
understood the farm girl life.  She set up a thing where it was mandatory
for me to stay after school three days a week for an hour.  Technically an
hour and fifteen minutes.  Monday, Wednesday, Thursday.  Daddy was furious
about that.  Not only did it cut into my farm chores and housework chores,
but it meant he or Mom had to drive into town to pick me up from school
instead of me taking the bus home.

   He told the guidance counselor that there was no way I was staying at
school three more hours every week, but somehow Daddy lost a fight for the
first time in his life.  I think the guidance counselor lady told him how
close I was to flunking out of school altogether and there wasn't really a
choice about it.

   Me?  Hell, I LOVED having three hours a week to sit in the school
library where it was air conditioned and quiet and nobody was telling me
what to do or sticking a pecker in me.  I ate it up.  Even though it made
getting my home chores even harder to get caught up on, it was worth it. 
My grades started getting better too.

   If I had zero free time in the house before I started the after school
study program, I had less-than-zero time after I started.  If no one was
looking I half-assed a lot of my chores.  I didn't always run the sanitizer
rinse through the pressure hose when I cleaned the concrete pig pads in the
barns.  I didn't spread slop in the troughs evenly, so the big sows got
more than they should have.  I shoveled shit like...  Well...  Like shit. I
didn't always completely wait for the pressure valve on the milkers to
decompress before I pulled them off the teats, which really pissed off the
cows.

   So the Saturday afternoon when I was cycling a mountain of laundry into
the washer and Gip walked in all sweaty from running six miles and he said,
"Drop that bullshit messin' round, Whore.  Get some hot water on the stove
for my bath."

   ...  I snapped.

   We always got our own hot bath water, except for Daddy, and then only on
special occasions.  (If you count beating whore ass as a special occasion).

   "Get your own fucking bath water!" I shouted.

   Big mistake.

   The light in Gip's eyes flipped from bossy to bull's eye red.  He turned
out to be a lot stronger than I thought.  He bounced me all over the porch
room where we kept the washer.  He didn't punch.  It was just a bunch of
grabbing and pushing me into the wall.  Then the washer.  Then the wall. 
Then the dryer.

   I was crying on the floor when he pulled me up by my hair and pinned me
back against the wall.  He pulled the string of his sweat pants and they
dropped down.  With his free hand he pushed his tighty-whiteys down to his
knees and I got my first look at Gip's dick since he was a little boy.  Gip
had inherited his father's dominance, but not his father's giant pecker. 
At that point, I had no concept of "average" in terms of penis size. 
Daddy's pecker was my only frame of reference.  I'd seen some of Daddy's
girly mags, but when there were pictures of guys in those photo spreads
they were always half-limp, and they still looked just about the same size
as Daddy's pecker when it was half-hard.

   Gip's dick wasn't much bigger than a jumbo hot dog.  A little thicker
than a bratwurst, even though Gip was all-the-way hard.

   It was also sweaty and a choking fog of ass and body odor rolled into my
face when Gip's underwear dropped.

   "You don't want to wash my pecker and get it nice and squeaky clean
before you suck it, like you do for the old man?" Gip thumped my head
against the wall with every third word he said.  "Well have it your way,
Whore.  Suck my sweaty prick."

   I did.

   Gip didn't have to throat fuck me.  I just sucked.  Gip kept his hand on
the top of my head, his fingers in my hair, but he let up enough that I
could move my head in and out.  With the size difference, I found myself
sucking a lot deeper.  My eyes kept closed, but I knew I had it almost all
in my mouth.  I could feel Gip's bushy pubic hairs tickling the end of my
nose.

   Less than two minutes and Gip was shooting spunk into my suck.  He
leaned forward into the wall so I couldn't back all the way off the end of
his dick and avoid the mouthful I got.  Smaller dick.  Bigger comer.  There
must have been ten big squirts of spunk against the back of my throat. 
Daddy always shot two long shots, one small shot, and then a long dribbling
ooze of white.  Gip's spew was relentless.  Pow.  Pow.  Pow.  Gulp.  Pow.
Gulp.  Pow.  Gulp.

   Girls learn to take the spunk on the back of their tongue so we don't
have to taste it as much.  Gip's come filled my mouth before I could get it
swallowed down.  I tasted every bit of it.  It had a creamier taste than
Daddy's spew.  It wasn't as bitter.  It wasn't as salty.  It was just hot
and bland.  And plentiful.

   "Now," Gip said as he pulled out of me, "Get your Whore ass in the
kitchen and get my bath on the stove."

   I did as I was told.

   He had me take off my shirt and bra and wash his dick, balls, and butt
while he felt me up.  I thought I was going to have to suck him again, but
he didn't get all the way hard.

   When it was over I hurried back to the porch and went right back to the
laundry.  Daddy wasn't going to care that I'd lost an hour and twenty
minutes of my day to whoring and running bath water and soaping Gip's butt
crack.  Chores had to get done, even if it meant you didn't sleep.

   Stevie never came for me.  He must have picked Mom to do his dirty work.
That surprised me.  Mom and I crossed paths at the burn barrels the next
day as we were both pouring out trashcans from different places.

   "You don't have to worry about Gip," I said.  "He got me."

   Mom laughed a sad laugh.  "Honey, he got both of us."

   "You're kidding."

   "You know better.  Devious little shitburger."

   "Did you get Steve?"

   "I got Steve," Mom answered matter-of-factly without looking at me.

   "Huh."

   "What?"

   "Nothing."

   "Why, Caryn.  You jealous or something?"

   "No, I'm...  I'm just surprised he came to you."

   "He didn't come to me.  I took it to him first." Mom banged the kitchen
trash can against the barrel trying to dislodge some sticky paper towels at
the bottom.  She looked me up and down.  "You looked like you could use a
break."

   "Thank you, Mom."

   "You look like shit, Caryn."

   "Fuck you, Mom," I smiled.  I'd never said that before, but it was funny
and Mom smiled like she thought so too.

   "This will end, Caryn," Mom turned to take her empty cans back to the
house.  "For you, anyway.  This will end for you."

   In that moment I realized how much I loved my Mom in spite of her
inability to protect me from my father and my brothers.

   The what-came-next part is no big twist.  You know what came next. 
Replay.  Replay.  Replay.  You can't just suck a boy's dick once and expect
that he'll just go away and stay away.  That bell could not be unrung.  Mom
and me were no longer rewards for boxing victories.  We were just common
sex slaves.

   The only twist was the next time Gip tried to throw me around I held up
my hand and said, "I'll suck your pecker.  I'll stroke your pecker.  But
Gip if you hurt me again, so help me God, I'll tell Daddy you fucked me in
my pussy."

   "You will not."

   "God's honest, I will."

   "He won't believe you, Whore."

   "You ready to put that to the test?" I looked him straight in the eye.
Gip was not ready to test my threat.

   Gip was a teenager and insatiable.  Gip maintenance rarely skipped a
single day, but it only took five minutes, tops.  I swallowed all his
spunk. As much as Gip squirted, what else was I going to do with it?  It
was too much for even a shirt to contain if he painted me.  I'd just have
to get a mop and clean up a big puddle.  Or I'd have to wipe off with a
bath towel which I'd just have to wash later.  So I just swallowed it.

   Eventually we fell into a routine on weekdays mornings where I'd go to
the room Gip and Steve shared.  I'd duck in there about ten minutes before
the bus arrived and pull my shirt up and my bra down so my tits spilled
over the tops of the cups.  I got down on my knees and Gip dropped his
pants and sat on the edge of his bed.

   We never missed the bus.

   Sometimes Stevie watched us while I worked Gip.

   When I was sixteen and Stevie had just turned fourteen, Stevie
eventually started making demands on me too.  He looked guilty and
sheepish, but free blow jobs are just too much temptation for a teenage boy
to leave on the table.  At least Stevie tried to work his demands around
when I wasn't insanely busy.

   And he was kind of nice about it.  He was direct, but not bossy or mean.

   Stevie's cock was a little bigger than Gips, but still nothing like
Daddy's.  This sounds weird, but Stevie's dick was beautiful.  You don't
hear people say that a lot about dicks, but there was something about
Stevie's pecker that was really...  Well...  pretty.  It didn't have any
big blue veins.  It was real evenly colored from bottom to top.  The head
was perfectly proportioned to the shaft.  It was just...  I don't know how
to say it any other way.  Stevie had a pretty cock.

   Unfortunately, even at fourteen, he had a lot more stamina than his evil
older brother.  Stevie was no five minute blow job.  He took as long as
daddy, sometimes even longer.  I had to look him in the eye like I did when
I sucked Daddy.  I had to wiggle my butt back and forth like I did when I
sucked Daddy.  I had to moan like I did when I sucked Daddy.  Sometimes I'd
forget that I was acting and I put a hard licking all over Stevie's cock
shaft while I purred and moaned.

   Stevie wanted me to pump and stroke the base of his dick while my mouth
worked the top.  It was a lot of physical work.  I'm not the most
coordinated girl and it took a few times to get the hand of doing two
things at once.

   Stevie was the my first talker, too.  He was as bad as you are, Skip.  A
motormouth.  About half way through the blow job it was all "Oh yeah, baby.
Oh yeah, Sis.  Suck me good, Sis!  Oh that's nice, Care-Care." Of course
when he was close to squirting spunk it was all "Suck it, bitch!  Suck my
pecker, bitch!" But that was okay.  Whatever got Stevie over the edge was
fine.  I'd been called worse.  Daily.

   Stevie was a funny squirter, though.  The first time he came in my mouth
it really fooled me.  It was big sticky loads, just like Gip, but it was
One-Two-Three, really hard shots.  It was so hard that I could feel his
prick thump really hard in my hand as he blasted away at my tonsils.  I
swallowed it all up.  (Of course.) As I was pulling off he told me "No,"
and pushed me back down on his pecker.  I thought he wanted me to suck his
pipe dry, so I slurped at it a little more and realized Stevie wasn't
wilting.  He was still rock hard.  So I went back at it all trampy like the
boys liked.  Two minutes later there was another cock thumping and Bam! 
Bam!  Bam!  Three more sizeable shots of spew flooded my mouth.  Again I
pull off and again he pushes me back down and Stevie is still rock fucking
hard.  I'm thinking, "Holy fuck.  What have I got myself into with this
one?" Another minute of cock slurping and working my tongue and Stevie
arched his back and grunted and then came one more small flood on top of my
tongue.  That was it for Stevie.

   He'd help me stand back up off my knees.  Lifted me up.  Stevie hugged
me after I sucked his dick.  He never kissed me, but he hugged me.

   Stevie came for me once a month maybe.  Once every six weeks when Daddy
had to cut back on his hired hands during a poverty stretch when we all got
assigned double chores.  When I saw that twinkle in Steve's eye, I knew I
was in for a jaw bender.  But I didn't mind.  His spunk tasted bland and
creamy, just like Gippers.  Maybe a little more salty.  They both ate the
same things once they started in on training, so maybe that made their spew
taste the same.  Maybe it was just genetics.  Who knows?

   All the sex slave stuff stopped for a week when Daddy's brother came to
visit.  I know what you are expecting me to say next, but that's wrong. 
Daddy's brother was a reverend and he was pretty well off.  Uncle Wallis
had worked his way up to one of those mega churches in a big city.  He was
loaded.  Not only did he make a big wage, but all his expenses were covered
in his benefit package, so the church bought him a nice house and he drove
a nice car.  Uncle Wallis was actually a pretty good looking guy.  When I
looked at Uncle Wallis, I saw what Daddy would have looked like if he'd
picked an easier career than buying that stupid fucking life-draining farm.

   Uncle Wallis had lost his wife and his son in a boating accident when I
was nine.  We couldn't go to the funeral because we couldn't leave the
farm. There were some hard feelings between Daddy and Uncle Wallis after
that, but Uncle Wallis eventually let it go.  Uncle Wallis knew that if he
was going to see Daddy, he had to travel to the farm, and so he did.  He
stayed at a hotel in town, but the sucking and fucking stopped anyway.

   I was about to turn seventeen.  Uncle Wallis took us out to dinner at a
nice restaurant in town and told us that his benefit package had a perq in
it to send his kids to college in his (neighboring) state's university
system.  Even though Randy (his son) was dead, he could still transfer that
benefit to a relative if he wanted to.

   Then he asked me if I wanted to go to college for free.  I dropped my
fork.

   We were so poor and my grades were so bad, college was a crazy Neverland
concept.  I assumed I'd be the family sex slave until the boys got married,
moved away, and Daddy lost interest.

   Mom started bawling with joy about the time Daddy was working up to
telling Uncle Willis no.  Daddy never got his objection out.  Mom stood up
and walked over to Uncle Willis and cried on top of Uncle Willis's head. 
Daddy was embarrassed, but I thought it was really sweet.

   All I had to do was find a State school in Uncle Willis's state that
would accept me and get an ACT score just high enough that the admissions
department wouldn't laugh in my face.

   That was that.

   After Uncle Willis left the farm, Daddy started fucking me like he knew
his all-access pass to my tight pussy was running out.  He was never a
gentle lover but golly jeez I got my muff pounded hard.  That's when I
started squirting on Daddy's pecker a lot.  He had a dominant desperation
about him.  Maybe there was a pheromone coming off him that I was smelling
that got up in my brain when his big dick head hit that spot way down in my
pussy.  I just know there was something in my cunt that responded to the
way his big man hands locked around the tops of my hips and took control of
my entire body.  He'd pull me down into his thrust and the smashing
together of solid man angles with my soft girly curves was a kind of simple
perfection.  There was a sense of completion inside my gut when I was
absolutely manhandled with Daddy's intensity.  Even at Seventeen I knew I
liked the idea of being tied up and taken hard.  I didn't want that from
Daddy though.  There was no trust for Daddy.  For some reason guys think
that women who like being tied to the bed like it for the unpredictability
potential of the sex.  Maybe some girls do, but I don't.  I like the idea
of being tied up for exactly the opposite reason.  I want something very
specific, very known.  When my cunt it itchy for attention I want to be
consumed.  I want to be chewed up and gnawed on by the animal intensity of
a man who is out of his fucking mind with need.  When a guy takes what he
wants and it hits all the right spots and lasts the right amount of time...
Now that's the best.  That's the difference between a regular orgasm and a
squirter.

   With ACT tests in my future I thought I should start making the most of
my mandatory after school study sessions.  My guidance counselor kept
pressuring me to take advantage of the school's tutoring program while I
was sitting in my study hour.  I signed up for some help with biology and
math.  They assigned me to this goofy guy named Rusty.  He was a Junior,
younger than me but a braniac.  Rusty was a redhead but not a ginger.  He
was tall and lanky like you, Skip.  He also had a really funny side to him
like you do, Skip.  He wasn't super cute, but I could tell he liked me.  He
was a big flirt.  I'd catch him staring at my tits all the time.  He was
also really patient.  No comment there, Skip.

   I took the ACT for the first time in the fall of my Senior year and I
gacked it.  Bad.  Thirteen-kinda bad.  I started to panic.  No College
Admissions Dean was going to accept a girl with a two point one grade
average and a thirteen on her ACTs, no matter how much cock she sucked in
any given day.

   Rusty said that I was smarter than I gave myself credit for.  He said I
had test anxiety and it wasn't so much a matter of what I did or didn't
know as it was thinking about the whole test differently.  It was the first
time somebody ever acted as if maybe I really did have a brain.

   I started thinking about Rusty more and more when I was doing my chores.
No.  No.  I didn't play with the dildo and think about him.  I stopped
playing with the dildo after Gip and I came to our agreement about his
daily blow job.  By the time I made it to my bed at night, all I wanted to
do was get some precious sleep before somebody woke me up by sticking his
dick in my mouth.  The dildo stayed hidden in my bottom drawer.

   No, it was just a slow building crush.  Common as cornflowers.

   Rusty picked up on my smiles.  One day in late October he told the
Teaching Assistant responsible for the afterschool study session that he
was "checking me out of the school library and taking me to the County
library."

   The TA didn't care.  Rusty was a solid kid.  National Honor Society. 
Basketball hero.  Treasurer of the Student Council.  As long as Rusty had
me back in the library in an hour, we could go to the County library in
Craighead.

   So we went to the 'big' library.  Rusty drove me in his F-150.  He
played the radio too loud and drove too fast.  It was awesome.  We didn't
do anything at the County Library except pretend to read and flirt a lot.

   Our runs to the County library got to be a habit.  Two out of every
three weekly sessions Rusty "checked me out." If the snow was bad we didn't
try, because we knew we couldn't make it to the town square and back in an
hour and fifteen minutes, even if we only drove past the Library and waved.
Most of the time we went to the County library I did study.  Really.

   Right before Christmas I took the ACT again and got a 19.  Not great,
but good enough.  I put in for (our university) and (the other big
university across the state).  I had an acceptance letter from (our
university) by Valentines Day.  All I had to do was not flunk any of my
high school classes and I'd be pissin' in tall cotton the next Fall.

   Some of the pressure seemed to evaporate, but Rusty was on me to not let
up.  He had all these ideas for how I could change my room around to be a
better student.  Ways to organize, yaknow?  He kept saying that he'd come
by the farm on the weekend and show me how to get organized.  The we could
go to a movie.  Of course, I had to make excuses.  Daddy or Gip would have
been more likely to shoot him and throw his corpse in the Boar pen than
shake his hand and treat him like a decent visitor.

   At the end of February, we were making our run to Craighead County Seat
and we got a few blocks from the School and Rusty turned a different way
and pulled into a driveway at a house in town.  He said he needed to change
his contact lens, and I should come in and see his house and it would only
take a second, right?

   Of course, there was nobody home.  His parents were both still at work.
You know where this is going, don't you?  He showed me his room and how he
had his desk organized with all these little plastic racks with labels on
them.

   We turned to walk out of his room and he grabed my arm, spun me around,
and planted a toe-tingler right on my lips.  No tongue, but it's a helluva
kiss.  Thirty seconds later we were rolling all over his unmade bed, making
out.  I know the smell of come and his sheets smelled like come and
aftershave.  I could see his boner popped in his pants.  I felt it stabbing
my leg when he rolled back and forth across me as he kissed me from one
side and then the other.

   He was very gentle, and totally respectful.  If he'd have yanked his
pants off and said "Suck my dick, bitch!" I would have probably reflexively
dropped to my knees and started smoking pole before he made it to the
exclamation point.  He didn't.  He was really sweet.  He kept telling me
how pretty I was.

   We didn't have a lot of time and he didn't even cop a feel.  We climbed
back in his truck and drove two blocks back to school.  Rusty was blushing
as we walked back in the school library before dismissal.  I'm sure I was
too.

   We never went to the County library again.

   Twice a week we went to Rusty's bedroom and made out.

   It took Rusty four makeout sessions to finally get his hand up my shirt.
Five to push my shirt up and suck my nips.  Six to finally figure out that
my complete lack of resistance made it easier to just take my shirt off all
together.

   He was so complementary.  He kept telling me how pretty I was and how
perfect my boobs were.  He said a hundred times that I was more beautiful
than any girl in Playboy and I should be a model.  He was a little
sweetheart.

   Rusty must have had balls that were bright blue.  I kept waiting for him
to unzip.  I'm sure I would have blown him or fucked him if he just took
off his pants and looked at me with an expectant look in his eye.  Poor kid
just kissed and groped and sucked.  He wasn't the shy type, just...  well,
like I said before, Rusty was very patient.

   Early in April Rusty finally got around to unzipping my jeans and
sticking his fingers into my sopping pussy.  My clit is hard to miss, but
goddamn if he was everywhere on my twat except where it counted.  Me?  I
was having fun.  I was the center of attention, in a good way for once. 
The submissive girlfriend in me wanted to take pity on the boy.  I knew I
should probably take matters in my own hands and speed things along.  But I
liked how hard Rusty was trying to woo me.  In his mind I might storm out
and pout if he pushed me too far.  He didn't want to screw up a good thing,
so was actually trying to win me over.  I assumed all the chivalry would
end the moment his spunk squirted in my mouth.  He'd probably call me a
whore and give me the Look of Disgust like Daddy and Gip did after I sexed
them.  Well...  they gave me that disgusted look before, during, and after
sex.

   I didn't love Rusty, but I really liked him.  He was a good guy.  He
treated me like I was special and that was different.  Nice.  I felt valued
for the first time in my life.

   Late in April, with only three weeks left in my high school career,
Rusty finally pulled my pants off and then he stripped naked too.  His
pecker was the same size as Gip's, so I naively thought it was small
instead of average.  But it had a crazy curve to it.  It had a deep bend in
the top of it.  It wasn't "bent nail." Just an unnatural upcurve.  When he
stood up next to the bed, his dick poked almost directly back into his
stomach.  If he turned sideways it would have made a complete "D" shape.

   He already knew I'd never had a real boyfriend, so I guess he assumed I
was a virgin.  Maybe that's why he moved so slow.

   I'd never orgasmed while fucking missionary before, and I didn't that
first day with Rusty either.  I probably would have if we'd had more time.
We were constantly watching the clock and that kills romance and orgasms.
But for the first time, that crazy cock head of Rusty's grinding really
hard into a tickle-spot I didn't even know I had in the top of my pussy
wall...  Fuck!  s I soaked those sheets down to the mattress pad.  I just
flooded everything.  It was a great fucking.  It was the first time I'd
really sexed someone outside my family and it was terrific on so many
levels.

   Rusty wore a rubber, which was another first for me.  I don't know what
kind of comer he was, because he collapsed on top of me and kissed me for a
long time after he popped his nuts.  Then he was a big flurry of pulling
out and getting dressed because we were running late.  I never saw him take
off the condom.

   The next week was better.  I was more comfortable with Rusty.  I wasn't
as concerned with the clock.  Rusty's pokey cock head kissed right into
that sweet spot in the top of my pussy and it danced all up and down it.  I
shook harder than I've ever shook when I orgasmed.  I squirted so much
sugar floe that it started to pool around my ass in the bed dimple.

   Poor Rusty.  After he came he kissed me.  He actually told me that he
loved me.  Stupid jerk.  I didn't say anything back.  I didn't want to love
anybody.

   By the time we got back to school we were running across the parking lot
to get to the library in time to be dismissed.  Somebody sitting in a
parked truck laid into the horn right as we ran past the front of them.  We
both jumped out of our skin.  Then I looked over and saw it was Daddy.  He
was never on time to pick me up.  Never.

   There he was.

   He looked pissed.

   He jumped out of the truck and walked right at us.

   "Where you been?" he shouted at me.

   Stupid Rusty extended his hand toward my Dad.  "Hey, Mr.  LeRoy, I'm
Rusty, Cary--"

   "I ain't talkin' to you, Son.  You." Daddy pointed in my face.  "Where
have you been?"

   Rusty didn't give up.  "Mr.  LeRoy, we were at the County Libr--"

   "Goddammit, Son," Daddy turned red.  "When I want to hear from an
asshole, I'll fart.  Now shut the fuck up or the next time you open your
pie hole you're going to wake up in traction at Mercy Regional."

   I wanted to die.  "W-w-we were at the County library."

   Daddy tilted his head toward the front entrance of the school.  "That's
what the little dingbat up in the library said.  Only I was just there for
forty minutes and you were not."

   "Sir!" Rusty must have thought Daddy was kidding.  "I had some trouble
with the transmission in my tru--"

   Looking back, I realize the last complete sentence Rusty managed to say
in my presence was "I love you."

   Daddy shuffled his feet hard and skipped right toward Rusty, his left
arm cocking back as he closed distance.  Only a fool would insert
themselves between Daddy and someone Daddy was trying to pummel.  I am that
fool.  The time it took for Daddy to drop his fists, grab my waist, and
spin me out of the way was all the time Rusty needed to jump back, turn,
and then start running for the school entrance.

   "Crazy fuck!" Rusty screamed.  "Whatever man, whatever!"

   Daddy didn't chase Rusty.  He just looked at me and said, "Get your ass
in the truck."

   That was a long, silent ride home, lemmetellya.  I could see the smoke
pouring out of Daddy's ears.  He seethed.

   As we pulled into the farm, Gary Grunt - who is kind of the senior hand,
the guy who Daddy calls first when he needs hired help - he was driving in
right in front of us and he stopped to open the gate.

   Daddy told him that there was a family matter he needed to attend to,
and would Gary dismiss all the hands currently on the farm.  Daddy said he
was sorry, and he'd call Gary when things rolled back up to speed.

   My blood ran cold.  Daddy was "powering off" the farm.  You just don't
do that.  Ever.  A working farm is a big clothes washing machine filled to
the top with chaos and mayhem.  As soon as you turn your back on it for
very long, it'll bubble over and start ruining everything around it.

   Daddy told me to go to my room and not leave it for any reason.

   Supposedly, December 21st is the longest night of the year, but for me
it turned out to be May 2, 1985.

   Doming Daughter Dani Part 24 of 51 CARYN'S INCEST TALE PART THREE

   By Dutchboy
copyright: This work is released under the Creative Commons

   Attribution Only (CC BY) License.  You can copy it, paste it, change it,
try and get some other fool to pay you money for it.  I don't care.  Just
acknowledge my original authorship and if you change anything, be upfront
about the fact that you changed it.  If that ain't a square deal, I'll kiss
your ass.

   Story codes: mdom, male dominant, incest, inc, true, bdsm, some pedo,
spanking, mmf and mff.

   ------------------------------

   I didn't know what was going on, but there was a definite buzz in the
house outside my room.  Doors slammed.  Mom and Daddy shouted at one
another.  Daddy shouted at the boys.

   Daddy kept leaving the house for fifteen minutes at a time and
returning.

   I heard Mom put something on the dinner table, but nobody called me
down.

   After dinner, the Sun was headed down when Daddy finally came to the
door of my room.  All he had to do was open it.  It was unlocked.  I guess
that wasn't dramatic enough.  Daddy kicked my door open.  He split the door
jam and ruined the door in one shot.

   Of course I also nearly shit my pants in fear, but I think that was the
whole idea.

   Daddy had a hand full of loops of rope, the woven kind that mountain
climbers used.  It was bright green with little yellow and red triangle
flecks in it.

   "Get your fucking clothes off, you runaround cheating WHORE!"

   Pew!  I stripped fast, throwing my clothes and underwear willy-nilly.

   Daddy was on me, wrapping ten or fifteen loops of the rope around my
wrists and knotting it off.  Daddy's Navy training had taught him to be
excellent with knots.  My palms were flat against each other and tight. 
The binding was so solid that it was pulling my elbows toward each other.
Keeping them apart put pressure on the rope coils which hurt my wrists
more.

   Daddy pulled a big ol' pig-bleeding hook out of a leather pouch.  That's
the steel hook they put through the sow's leg before they hoist her up and
gut her.  It's "S" shaped and really pointy and sharp on both ends.  I
gulped as Daddy pushed one sharp end of the hook in the ropes between my
hands, right against my wrists.  Somehow he pushed it through and up past
the bottom of my thumbs without piercing my skin or slitting my wrists.

   Then Daddy put an old dog collar around my neck.  We'd never had a small
dog on the farm in all my years, so whichever dog it came from had to have
a neck bigger than mine.  The collar hung loose on my neck.  Daddy clipped
a plastic coated bull-tether to the Dring on my collar and marched me out
of my room.  I was bare footed and trying not to step on the splinters from
the door, but Daddy didn't give a shit.  He just yanked that tether and I
stumbled forward through the sharp wood slivers.  He yanked me down the
stairs and out the back door into the moonless night.  The air was crisp on
my skin.  I felt the cold swirling around me, looking for weaknesses. 
Looking for entry.

   Daddy marched straight to the tractor barn.  I followed behind on my
long leash.

   Daddy rolled the tractor barn door back on it's big iron rail.  It
rumbled open.

   The tractor barn was empty.  Almost.  The heavy bag that the boys used
to practice boxing had been removed from its chain hoist mounting.  The bag
was propped in the corner.  The chain from the chain hoist was dropped all
the way to the floor.  The electric chain hoist was mounted to a frame that
set on top of the big barn roof beams.  That's how Daddy could attach heavy
PTO shafts to our tractor, if we had any real crop farming equipment.  The
old hay baler we used for alfalfa had it's own hydraulic jack that came
down off the hitch, so you didn't need a hoist.  Daddy had used the hoist a
couple of times to pull the engine out of one of our cars or trucks when he
made big repairs.

   Then he used the hoist for my brother's boxing bag.

   That night he was going to use it for me.

   I could see the big eye bolts screwed into the wooden floor.  Those were
new.  They were a trip hazard in a real working barn, so Daddy obviously
had a plan for them.

   He sure did.

   The barn had some overhead flood lamps mounted to the ceiling beams, but
they were not turned on.

   Instead Daddy had set a circle of seven Coleman propane lanterns in a
fifteen foot circle surrounding the drooping hoist chain.  The upward,
greenish light cast by the lanterns made the whole barn glow like a haunted
house.

   Daddy marched to the drooping chain coming down from the steel cable on
the hoist.  Then he turned around and reeled me to him by my leash like he
was pulling a marlin into a boat.  Daddy pointed to the floor and I sat
down.  The planks were cold and gritty with dirt under my naked buns. 
Daddy set about looping and knotting two individual rope lengths around
each of my ankles.  He laced in a big two-inch steel O-ring to the outside
of each ankle and a slightly smaller O-ring to the inside of each ankle.

   I knew I was in for some serious punishment.

   Then I saw the two slaughter tables against the far wall.  Those didn't
belong in the tractor barn.  Daddy had carried in his new slaughter table
and the old brown stained one we didn't use any more.  Daddy had trimeed
some of the leg lengths off the old slaughter table so it was a foot and a
half lower to the ground.  There were smaller, one inch eye-bolts screwed
all over the sides of the slaughter tables.

   That's when I thought Daddy was really going to kill me.  Literally KILL
me.  Graveyard dead.

   It was too late to run.  Daddy had pulled my legs into a V as he tied
one ankle rope to each of the eye-bolts in the floor.  My feet were
stretched maybe five feet apart from each other with another foot of rope
between the bolts and my ankles.

   Daddy pulled the drooping chain around to my front and he slipped the
open end of the slaughter hook in my wrist bindings into the chain above my
head.  He clipped the long, loose extra chain (the part that would have
banged into my tits and pussy) into a loop above my head and secured it out
of the way with a zip-tie.

   Daddy walked over to the wall and turned on the hoist.  A second later
it started to grind and then my hands were being slowly pulled upward and
over my head and forward.  There was no more room for my hands to rise, but
the hoist kept humming.  My shoulders pinched tight and then my ass was
sliding forward and then lifing up off the dirty floor.  My legs
instinctively tried to get under me, but they were tied too far apart.  I
guess this is all too much detail.  The important part is that it took less
than a minute until my feet were off the ground and Daddy locked the hoist.

   It hurt worse than any spanking.  I felt like I was being ripped apart
at my shoulders and my pussy.  I was an upside-down Y, suspended almost a
foot off the ground.  I could feel a ripping sensation, a tearing pressure
on all of my joints.  You see that kind of bondage shit in movies and you
have no idea how much it really hurts to be lifted and suspended and spread
apart like that.

   I started whimpering and pleading with Daddy to lower me down.  I was
blabbering out every promise I could think of.

   All my jawing reminded Daddy of something he forgot.  He had a brown
paper lunch bag and he pulled out a leather ball gag with a big red rubber
ball in the middle of it.  Daddy walked up and bumped his clothed crotch
right into my bare pussy.  I was at the perfect height off the floor for
him to fuck me.  Daddy pushed against me, which put more pressure on the
muscles in my ass and pussy and shoulders that were taking all the strain.
Daddy strapped the buckle of the ball gag behind my head.  He ratcheted the
straps until the ball of the gag pushed between my teeth before he made one
more hard jerk and locked it down.

   "Does it taste like your Whore mother's pussy?  Does it?" Daddy
whispered hot into my ear.  "I know how much you love the taste of your
whore mother's pussy, so I rubbed it real thick with her sticky whore juice
before I brought it out.  Can you believe that, you runaround cheating
Whore?  Your whore mother juiced hard and heavy knowing what you were going
to get tonight."

   Daddy walked behind me and humped his erection into my ass, pushing me
forward and electrifying the muscles on my back and shoulders with
incredible pain.  His big mitts closed around my boobs and softly pulled my
nipples even harder than the cold night air had stiffened them.

   Daddy's hot, breathy mouth pressed at the back of my right ear,
whispering again.  "Do you know that you're not the first runaround
cheating whore I've strapped up out here?  Right where you are?  That's
right.  You're not.  Your whore mother cheated on me too.  You were little
bitty.  It was before the boys.  Your whore mother had a little tumble with
one of her old high school boyfriends.  That's right." Daddy nuzzled his
face against me and his five o'clock shadow sanded the soft length of my
neck.  "What do you think happened to that fucker who stuck his little
needle-dick in my wife?  You wanna guess?" Daddy laughed soft and it sent a
wave of chills through me.

   "Let's just say," Daddy continued his close whisper, dropping both his
hands down my stomach and stopping at my wide-spread pussy, "That he lost
interest in your whore mother real quick.  But of course then I had the
matter of keeping a runaround, cheating whore in my house.  I couldn't have
that, could I?  So I thought up a way to divide your whore mother's life
into one, single, spectacular 'before and after' moment."

   Daddy's fingers ran circles all over my dry clit.

   "And now," Daddy's fingers started drumming thumps right on top of my
button to emphasize his words, "And now, College Girl, it's your turn for
your own before and after moment.  You think I can't stop you from going to
college and becoming some fraternity cumbucket?  Think again, bitch.  Think
again.  You'll be back in my house again.  You'll even be back in my bed
again, runaround Whore.  But you won't be the same girl you are now. 
You'll never be my good girl Carebear again.  And by the time you've healed
up enough that you can go back to high school after I'm done with you... 
School will be over.  Kiss your graduation good bye.  Kiss College good
bye."

   Daddy bit my ear so hard I thought it was going to bleed.

   Then he summarily turned and walked back out of the barn, rolling the
big door closed behind him.

   Time stopped.  The pain got to the point where the burning in my
stretched joints turned to a steady throb.  I kept looking over at the
slaughter tables and wondering why Daddy had lowered one and screwed
eye-bolts all over both of them.

   Maybe an hour of this torture went by.  It's hard to tell.  When the
barn door finally rolled open again, Daddy, Gip, and Stevie strolled in. 
They were all wearing white T-shirts, jeans, and flip-flops.  They looked
like a street gang on their way to a beach.

   All of them had long dowel rods, the same kind Daddy used to whip the
boys.

   Daddy closed the barn door and the three of them stepped into the eerie
circle of green lanterns and started strutting around me me with pissed off
expressions.  Wolves circling their helpless prey.

   Daddy pulled a medium sized green metal trash can from the workshop
corner of the barn and put it down between my legs.  I didn't understand
why until Daddy's cane bit me first, straight across the stomach.  I
flinched but I had no place to go.  I couldn't even tell I had to pee
before that hot line burned through me.  I was in pain everywhere, so I
couldn't get any distress signals from my bladder.

   But right after Daddy striped my stomach I heard the sound of pee
splashing into the metal trash can, as much as I could hear it over the
sound of my screams muffled by the ball gag.

   Daddy had assumed the honor of the first swat, but the boys had been
coached.  Nobody said anything.  The three of them all started striping my
body at the same time.  Lines burned across my ass, over and over.  Lines
burned across my exposed tits and nipples.  They were aiming the canes
right at my stretched open pussy, too, but the corners of my hips took most
of the pain.  Most of it.

   They still managed to get those canes on my pussy too.  Oh boy, they
did.

   There's no funny upside to the torture I endured, but it's a little
ironic to think that if there had just been two of them caning me, they
would have probably killed me from the shock of the pain.  Two of them
would have left each of them enough room to circle me and get nothing bt
really solid swats all over my body and my legs.  But with three of them,
most of their blows were getting in the way of each other.  They'd crack
their canes against each other.  Or Stevie would start to swing and then
have to stop and wait for Daddy to take his swing, and then his cane swat
would land mostly on top of Gip's cane right after it slashed into me.

   Small comfort.

   They didn't kill me, but they almost sent me into shock.  If I didn't
have the ball gag in my mouth I would have been begging to suck Mom's pussy
and put on a lesbo show if they'd just stop caning me for five minutes.

   After I was one big throbbing welt all the way from my neck to my shins,
they finally walked away from me and threw their canes to the side.  Daddy
walked to his work bench and I thought he was going to flip the switch on
the hoist and finally lower me back down to the floor.  He didn't.  He
opened a drawer.

   He pulled out my big blue dildo.  Daddy walked toward me, gripping the
end of the dildo in one hand and spinning the other end in a circle beside
him.

   "Oh looky, looky," Daddy sang.  "You thought I didn't know about your
big Whore toy?  I did.  I know about every fucking thing that happens on
this farm.  Boys, apparently your Whore sister just isn't getting enough
dick."

   If you've ever seen a movie where some mobster stooge is tied to a chair
and the other mobsters are beating them with a garden hose or a phone book,
you may not understand that the reason they do that is because the blows do
deep tissue damage, but they don't make heavy bruises on the top of the
skin.

   I didn't know that.

   I didn't know that until weeks later.

   I didn't even know it when Daddy whipped the end of that big gel dildo
across my jaw and knocked me out.  I wasn't unconscious long.  There were a
few seconds of me coming back to lucidness when the pain was still
mercifully gone.

   Then it was back.

   The Coleman lanterns danced a tumbling Spirograph pattern in my woosy
vision.

   Daddy clubbed my ass with the dildo.  He smashed my tits a couple of
time.  Then he stood in front of me and smiled and wound up the spinning
dildo head like a lariat for a few seconds before he whacked me right solid
in my spread open cunt with a hard dildo uppercut.

   Everything went white.  My ears rang.

   There was no "maybe" in my mind after that.  I wanted my Daddy dead and
I started resolving that the second my hands were free, I was going to take
my perfectly trimmed fingernails and stab them right in his evil eyes.

   Then I heard the gears in the winch buzz and I started lowering to the
floor.  I felt the floor boards kiss the bottoms of my arches and a kind of
small relief came over me as the muscle pain eased up and the burning
stripes across my skin took over.

   My hands kept lowering until I was a sobbing puddle, laying sprawled
flat on the floor.

   "We know you are going to miss those frat parties, Whore," Daddy said.
"Me and the boys are each going to take turns with you until each of us has
put three loads of jizz in your baby box.  Three.  Each.  There won't be a
cow milked or a pig fed until squirt number nine goes into that Whore twat.
You ain't going to school and you're brothers ain't going school until we
all work together to put a baby in your Whore babymaker.  Isn't that just a
sweet idea!"

   Gip and Stevie carried the shorter, modified slaughter table into the
center of the lamp circle.  Daddy pulled the slaughter hook out of my wrist
binding and picked me off the floor.  He dropped me face down on the
slaughter table.  Daddy pulled some carabiners out of his pocket and
clipped the outside O ring on my ankle bindings to some of the eye bolts on
the edge of the table.

   Daddy pulled out a pocket knife, opened the long gleaming blade, and cut
the knot on my wrist bindings.  After he unwrapped my hands, he folded the
rope into halves and cut it into two modest pieces.  Daddy tied each of my
wrists individually and then looped the ropes to a couple more eye bolts.

   It took me that long to figure out that I was being tied into a doggy
fucking position.  Daddy had cut down the legs of the table so it would be
the right height for him and the boys to stand up in the little cut-out
semi-circle at the back end of the table and bitchfuck me.

   Once more Gip and Steve picked the table up, this time with me attached
to the top.  They jockeyed the table around until my head was almost under
the hoist.  Daddy pulled another carabiner clip out of his pants pocket and
clipped the D-ring on my dog collar high enough on the hoist chain that I
was fixed into place.  I was like a dog locked into the grooming table at a
pet shop.  I couldn't drop down.  I couldn't really lean forward.  I was a
bitch ready for breeding.

   Daddy rustled around behind me and then walked into my sight line with
the big blue dildo and some knockoff brand, cheap-o baby oil.  Daddy
squirted waaaaay too much baby oil onto the dildo.  Then he pushed the
dildo down into my swinging cleavage and twisted it around to spread the
oil out around the dry parts of the dildo.

   "Let's get that little whore fuckbox slicked-up and ready to make a
baby," Daddy sang.

   He walked around my blind side.  The dildo jammed into me deep and
quick, like a missile.  As big as Daddy's pecker was, the dildo was bigger.
The stretch was too fast and hurt too much.  I screamed into the ball gag.

   I woke to Stevie trying to lift my neck up off the the strangling
pressure of the dog collar.  I had blacked out again.

   Daddy hadn't removed the dildo.  Once my eyes fluttered open he began to
piston it in and out of my pussy.  I heard him stop and squeeze more baby
oil onto the dildo.  When he pumped it in-and-out once more I heard my puss
slosh with the oil.

   "Hold it in your twat," Daddy commanded.  "Tighten up.  Don't drop it."
Daddy let go of the dildo and I could immediately feel my pussy trying to
push out the too-big foreign object.  "HOLD IT!" Daddy shouted.

   I pinched my pussy muscles with all my might, but I heard the wet plop,
and then I heard the dildo thump on the floor.

   "Fuckin' whore just won't listen, Dad," Gip said.  "Too much suckin' and
not enough practice fuckin', I guess."

   "Think so?" Dad asked.  He picked up the oiled dildo off the dirty floor
and walked it around to my front.  Daddy nodded at Stevie and Stevie
unbuckled my ball gag and pulled it out of my jaw.

   Daddy said, "Let's see how you suck your rubber boyfriend here, Whore."
He stuffed the dildo in my mouth.  I could taste the baby oil and dirt from
the barn floor.  Of course, daddy couldn't resist stabbing the dildo too
far into my throat.  I gagged hard.  That didn't stop him.  He did it over
and over until my steady gags turned into a retch.  Stevie was there with
the metal trash can in front of my head when I eventually lost control and
threw up.  It was just a long string of stomach acid.  I hadn't eaten all
day.  Thankfully, Daddy pulled the dildo out of my mouth long enough for me
to spit it out the bile.  Then the dildo was right back in my jaw.

   "Let's see if you can hold it with your mouth, Whore," Daddy said.  He
dropped his end of the dildo and the weight of it all hit my jaw at once. I
tried to pull some suction onto it, but there was too much baby oil on it.
Too slippery.  It dropped right back on the floor.

   "Steven," Daddy said.  "Pick up your cane.  The next time she
disrespects her rubber boyfriend here and drops him on the floor, you light
up her whore ass."

   "You know it, Pop." Steven sounded really serious and confident.

   I did better the second try.  I had too.

   "Don't bite it now," Daddy said.

   I gave a really small nod of acknowledgement.  I couldn't move my head
too much because of the dog collar being clipped to the hoist chain above
me.  I also bit my front teeth into the dildo anyway.  I figured they
wouldn't notice and it would keep that cane off my already blistered ass. I
felt the weight of the drooping dildo start to work on my lower jaw.

   "There you go, runaround whore," Daddy cooed.  He walked behind me.  I
heard his pants drop.  Then he was in me.  Deep.

   Daddy fuck-pounded the daylights out of me from behind.  I couldn't help
but grunt from the impact.  I felt his pounding in the front of my neck
where I was being knocked forward against the tethered dog collar.

   I lost my battle with keeping the slippery dildo in my mouth and it
thumped to the floor again.  Nothing happened.  Stevie couldn't swat my ass
with Daddy hammering away at it with his giant dick.

   Daddy kept up his relentless pounding.  Maybe ten minutes.  Then he
grabbed my hair.  Instead of pulling my head back like he usually did, he
pushed my head forward.  Into the immobile dog collar.  I could still
breath, but barely.  I was sure he was going to kill me before he filled my
pussy.

   My vision got really blue at the edges.  Then Daddy's dick was all over
that deep spot in the very back and bottom of my pussy.  I felt the
vibrations start in my knees and tits and close in on my thighs.  I
couldn't get air and somehow I was going to come anyway.  Everything went
blue and I shook hard enough to move the table I was tied too.  I still
don't know if Daddy started spewing first or if I did.  I juiced a big
orgasm spray all over Daddy's balls and the table.

   Daddy let go of my head and just clamped his mitts on my hips as he put
all his spunk up in my deep pink.  He ground his hips around and every time
his balls slapped my clit I shook out another little come and another
little orgasm squirt.  I panted loud, but I could still hear the boys
cheering.

   "Jesus, did she just piss?"

   "Naw that's pussy juice."

   "That much?  Jesus.  Looked like somebody popped a water balloon.  She
is a whore, ain't she?"

   "Fuck yeah, she is."

   Daddy pulled out.  He walked around front and checked his watch. 
"Nobody fuck her for another ten minutes.  Give my spunk some time to get a
baby in her eggs.  Then one of you take seconds."

   "Can she suck dick while we wait?" Gip asked.

   "Sure, Son.  Sure.  Just don't jostle her too much.  I want that spunk
to do its job."

   Gip dragged an apple box to the front of the slaughter table and stepped
up on it.  I don't know when he lost his clothes, but he was buck ass naked
when his hard pecker zoomed up my face and pushed through my lips.  He
rocked his hips to fuck my mouth.  Even thought Daddy was longer hung and
I'd just been choke fucked with a giant dildo covered in baby oil, Gip
managed a pretty deep throat humping of his own.  He kept his balance by
holding onto the cable tethered to my dog collar.  I'm sure he never
bothered to think that his rhythmic little pulls on the cable were making
the dog collar stab up into my throat and cut the air through my windpipe
into dashes.

   I didn't have a watch, but I don't think Gip even waited five minutes
before he climbed down and ran around behind me.  I heard the bottle of
baby oil let out a wet fart.  I don't know why Gip oiled up his pecker.  I
guess 'cause he saw Daddy do it.  I heard him jack it a couple of times to
spread the oil around.

   Gip stabbed his pecker into my pussy with a wet slosh.  He tried to lock
his hands on my hips and bang away.  His one hand was still slippery with
the baby oil and he couldn't get a good grip.

   "Gonna squirt for me, whore?  Gonna squirt for me, runaround slut?" He
said over and over.

   Of course I didn't.  As quick as Gip was in my mouth, so too was he in
my pussy.  He started his orgasm grunt and his rapidfire thrust into my ass
cheeks got farther and farther apart.

   As Gip pounded out the last jets of his come, I watched Stevie undress
and fold his clothes into a pile on the workbench.  I hadn't really looked
at how developed Stevie was, not his entire body.  Both the boys were lean
and muscular, but Gip was lanky and stretched.  Stevie had a perfect
V-chest.  His thighs were like stallion legs.  And his ass...  Oh my God.
As many times as I'd sucked his dick, why had I never noticed how high and
hard Stevie's ass was.

   Stevie stretched his arms upward and tucked one arm behind his head and
down his back for stretching.  His beautiful pecker was half hard, swinging
like a fat, proud horse cock.  His eyes were dark and his expression was
all business.

   Something about seeing him in his totality, that perfect man pose...  He
looked sexy as hell.  My clit began to tingle a little.

   Gip stepped in front of me and eclipsed my view of Steve.  He jumped up
on the apple box and said, "Clean my pecker, slut."

   I opened my mouth to take his thrust, but he just stood there, barely an
inch from my mouth with his shrinking dick, covered in oil and a mix of
cloudy sperm trails.  I leaned forward to suck, but couldn't get any closer
with my dog collar hooked to the ceiling.

   "C'mon, slut," Gip chided me.  "Stretch that whore tongue of yours."

   I did.  I licked up the sperm and the baby oil.  There was no just
swallowing it down without tasting it.  I had to taste every drop of Gips
come and probably some of Daddy's come, as well as the tang of my own pussy
mixed with the heavy baby oil.  To this day I absolutely fucking hate the
taste of baby oil.  Even the smell of baby oil gives me the shivers.

   While I lapped at Gip's flacid cock and hairy ball sack, Stevie walked
around the side of the table and pulled on my tits and nipples like he was
milking a cow.  If my tits weren't so sore, it probably would have felt
really nice to have my tits and nips worked like that.  But there were too
many cane stripes across my tit skin.  My ribs were sore from where Daddy
cracked them with the dildo.

   But yaknow.  Stevie wasn't trying to turn me on.  He was getting his
cock to move from half-hard to fully erect.  It worked.  It worked.

   Stevie didn't oil up.  His hands went to my hips.  Then the tip of his
big pecker head split my twat hole and the shaft followed and followed and
followed.

   Gip fucked like he took his blow job.  Fast and furious.

   Unfortunately, Stevie fucked like he took his blow job too.  Deep and
slow and for a long time.

   Gip eventually burned out and couldn't take any more stimulation.  He
walked away from my mouth but he didn't leave the barn.  He just sat on the
floor and watched Stevie lay pipe for a half hour.

   Stevie's cock was so big in my cunt.  He was so steady and insistent and
even in his fuck strokes.  His big pecker head started drilling the same
spot that Daddy had pounded when I came.  My toes twitched and curled.  My
knees rattled against the table.  I'm sure I moaned.

   I felt Stevie's hot gush spray hard and deep into me.  All my tingle
tremors closed in on my orgasm spot.  I squirted again.

   Stevie never stopped fucking.  He didn't change his stroke rhythm.  He
just kept deep-dicking my slut spot after he lubed it with his sperm.

   Stevie was putting on a clinic for Gip, showing him how to make a girl
squirt.  He was showing Gip how to fuck a girl right.  Five minutes later I
squirted again.  Not much, but some.  Enough to warm Stevie's swinging
balls and set him off on a second hot sperming of my pussy.

   Minutes later he came one more time.  Whew, I thought.  At least I'm
done with Stevie now.  Then I realized I'd rather be fucked by Stevie ten
more times than the four more humpings I had coming from Daddy and Gip.

   "Howdya make her squirt like that, Turd?" Gip asked as Stevie walked
toward his folded clothes.

   "Dunno, " Stevie mumbled.  "C'mon.  Get dressed.  A-team is still on."

   Five minutes after Gip and Stevie rolled the barn door shut, Mom rolled
it back open.  I didn't realize how thirsty I was until she lifted a straw
to my mouth and the cold water started flushing the baby oil and sperm off
my tongue.

   "You're not going to like this," Mom said.  "But I might was well do it
while your trussed up and can't squirm away.  Hang on, now."

   First Mom poured two whole bottles of hydrogen peroxide over my back and
ass.  It was cold and uncomfortable, but it didn't really hurt.  I could
hear the infections boiling away.  I never saw mom soak the gauze in iodine
solution, but I screamed the moment it hit my ass.  It burned SO bad.  SO
bad.  Then mom was wiping it all over my legs and back and then under me,
rubbing iodine solution all over my tits while I cried and screamed.

   "I know, I know, Honey," Mom kept whispering.  "But if you don't get an
infection from this dirty barn, it will be a miracle.  An absolute
miracle."

   After the iodine dried and the burning sensation turned to a cold, dull,
burning sensation, Mom took the lid off a jar of burn cream that they used
for the cow udders, Sween Cream, and she started slathering it all over the
cane burns on my butt and boobs.

   Finally, that brought a little relief.

   Mom made me drink a lot more water, even after I said I wasn't thirsty.
Daddy walked back in the barn and chased Mom out.

   He stepped up on Gip's apple box made me suck his pecker for a long time
after it was rock hard.  Then he was back in me from behind, banging away
until he squirted his jizz in my baby box.

   After Daddy sat and recovered for a while, he untied me from the table
and unclipped my collar from the lift cable.

   I hoped Daddy had lost interest in my punishment, and my ordeal was
over. Instead he pulled me off the low slaughter table and frog marched me
over to the other slaughter table and had me lay on my back.  I wasn't
done. I was merely changing positions, that's all.

   Daddy tied my feet so they hung over the outside of the table.  There
was plenty of room to climb up and move around and mount my pussy.  He tied
each of my hands to eye bolts down by my hips.  He tied something between
above my head and the ring on my dog collar so I couldn't sit up.  It hurt
to lay my sore backside on that hard wood, but still, I was as comfortable
as I'd been since Daddy kicked down my door.

   Daddy had never put his pants back on as he secured me to the new table.
When he was done he ran his hands all over my tits and face and looked at
me with a really sad expression.  I didn't say anything.  He didn't say
anything.

   Daddy crawled up on the table with me, his knee pressed against my cunt
slit as he hovered over me.  He started kissing me with his tongue.  His
kisses got hot and breathy.  Then that big goddamn pecker of his was poking
me in the belly.  Daddy repositioned himself between my trussed thighs and
the next thing I knew, his cock head was slicing up into the depths of my
pussy box again.  He put all his weight on me.  At least that kept me warm,
even if it made it a little hard to breathe.  He craned his mouth down to
suck my tit as his pelvis ground against the front of my pussy.

   He spermed again.  Real quiet.  After he spermed he melted on top of me
and he tongue-kissed me for a while.

   That meant I was done with Stevie and done with Daddy.  I only had two
more spermings from Gip, and he was a quick fuck.  All I had to do was not
freeze to death, laying naked in the tractor barn on a cool Spring evening.

   Gip made one more trip to the barn by himself before midnight.  It took
him forever to hump his load into me that time.

   I woke to pre-dawn birds chirping and Stevie crawling up on me.

   "You already came three times," I said.

   Stevie didn't say anything.  His pecker was ready-to-go and he pushed it
up into me.  Stevie didn't lube up and I was drying out from being spread
eagle.  His fuck mount burned as he pushed his cock in and stretched me
out.

   My pussy got wet from looking up at Stevie's dark eyebrows and his
intense glare into my eyes.

   I wanted off the table, and I wanted off the table as soon as possible.
I thought about all I'd learned from mom and I started trying to talk the
come out of Stevie's balls.

   "Damn, you are a really good fuck," I moaned.  Stevie didn't say
anything.

   "Once things go back to normal, maybe you could still fuck me once in a
while?" I continued.  "You made my pussy squirt soooooo hard."

   Boom!  Stevie squirt number one.  Or four, depending on how you score
it.

   "Oh yes," I moaned.  "Fill me, Stevie.  Fill my pussy.  If I'm going to
make a baby I want it to be your baby.  More.  I want more of your jizz in
my hot hole."

   Boom!  Stevie squirt number two.  Or five, depending on how you score
it.

   Stevie crawled up and off me without a word.  I don't think he said a
single thing that whole session.  It was so weird for him to be so quiet.
When I had sucked his cock, he was one long stream of "Oh Sister!" and
"Yeah, that feels great." But when he fucked me he was super serious.  For
some reason, Stevie's intensity got to the slut part of my brain.  I didn't
come with Stevie that morning.  I was acting when I talked trash, but it
was easy to act with the good fuckstroke that kid had going.

   There was a long stretch where I lay alone and shivering on the table
before Gip showed back up.  The cattle were lowing and complaining, so
Daddy must have been serious about his threat that nobody was going to do
any chores until I was knocked up.  It was probably right after breakfast
(for them, not me) when Gip sauntered in.

   "Pop says I gotta get with getting you preggers, Bitch," Gip said.  "I
see the old man put you on your back.  Makes it hard to get a prick between
your teeth when you are strapped down like that."

   Gip circled the table, both of us just staring down each other.

   "Dad says that when he lets you up, your pussy is fair game for me and
Turd Boy.  Any time we want it, just like with your suck mouth and your
jack hand.  But you know what?  You know what slut?  Answer me!" Gip
slapped my bare tit hard.

   "What!" I shouted.

   "Mom's pussy is better'n your pussy.  She fucks better.  Her pussy juice
tastes sweeter.  'Nd there's a lot more of it.  Don't have to grease up my
pecker for a good fucking.  Mom's pussy gets wet so fast."

   "Yeah," I tried to keep my head.  "I'll make a wet pussy for you,
brother," I said.  "C'mon.  Climb on up and rub that whore pussy.  Make it
wet.  Make it yours."

   Gip looked like I'd just coldcocked him.

   "Shut up," he whispered.  "Shut the fuck up with your whore talk."

   "Don't make a slut wait," I said with a big, pouty baby-doll bottom lip.
"Give your slut sissy a good hard sperming."

   "Shut up!" Gip said.  He slapped my tit again.  Then my face.  He jerked
off his clothes, poured baby oil on his pecker again and jumped up on the
table and dropped into me.  He fucked me, snarling.  He was a mad dog. 
Every few minutes he'd slap me across my jaw.

   I just "Ohhhh Ohhh Ohhhh!-ed" a lot and he dumped his load in ten
minutes and ten slaps.

   A few minutes later, Stevie was back.  He needed some help getting hard
that time.  Somehow he got his knees up on the table and hovered over my
mouth.I put a decent suck on his tool, considering I was tied flat to a
table.  I moaned a lot.  I licked a lot.  I worked his ball sack when I
could.  As soon as he was fully stiff, he was back deep in my pussy again.
But he didn't lean up that time.  He laid on me and for the first time
ever, Stevie kissed me.  He kissed me and then he opened his mouth and
tongue-kissed me like Daddy.  I didn't feel Stevie's explosion that time.
He just stopped fucking and lay on me, breathing hard.

   "You didn't really come," I whispered in his ear.

   "I absolutely did," he whispered back.  "If you are really going to get
knocked up, you better not have Gipper's retarded kid running around the
farm.  It better really be mine."

   Man, by lunch time I was starting to actually feel the pangs of hunger
and the cows were pissed off in a major way.  They weren't complaining any
more.  They were cussing us out in moos.  The pigs were getting pretty
chatty too, and not in a good way.

   Gip's last fucking was so completely half-assed it was like he wasn't
even really there.  His balls were completely empty and he was never a fast
recharger.  He was making himself fuck, which meant he had to slap me more
and more to finally get over.  It wasn't any longer a sex session than he
ever had with me.  It just seemed like it took forever with me getting my
skull rung every thirty seconds or so.

   Daddy came in and started to untie me.  I assumed it was all over.  I'd
taken nine loads of spunk in my pussy (or twelve, if you counted Steve's
multiple shots).  I should have known better.  After Daddy untied my legs
from the table, he pushed them back over my head and tied my feet back down
on each side of my ears.  My ass and pussy were floating in the air above
me.

   Daddy shucked his pants, climbed up on the table and stood up.  He
positioned himself straddling my groin and pushed his pecker downward like
a drill press.  After a while of fucking me like that, like a squat press,
Daddy repositioned and put both his feet on the tops of my shoulders and
fucked me in the opposite direction of missionary, like he was doing push
ups.

   He grunted.  He stopped fucking.  He pulled out of me.  He hopped off
the slaughter table and pulled his pants back over his drooping cock, still
dripping a glossy string of residual come.

   "I'm going to call Gary Grunt now," Daddy said.  "Then while he's
calling the hired hands back, I'll come out here and untie you.  In the
meantime I want my last load of spunk to get down deep into to your eggs.
If you aren't pregnant before, you sure the hell are now.  Now I've told
the boys that you're going to spread your legs any time one of them gets an
itch they want scratched."

   I nodded.  "Gip said as much."

   "We're not going to have any trouble from you?"

   "No, Daddy."

   "Good.  Good."

   A few minutes later my long ordeal was over.  Daddy came back and untied
me.  He walked to the barns.  I stumbled naked across the yard and back in
the house.  Mom fed me breakfast while she ran water for a hot bath. 
Before I got in the tub, I looked at myself in the mirror.  I looked like
I'd been in a car wreck.  My face was one big purple blotch.

   I knew I had to do whatever I had to do to get at least my face healed
up enough that some pancake makeup and long sleeves would allow me to
return and finish school and get my high school diploma.  Baby, or no baby,
I was graduating high school.  Baby or no baby I was going to college in
the fall.

   But there was never a baby.  Don't understand why, but I didn't get
knocked up on rape night.


   <1st attachment end> 

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