Domming 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. 

Email: mrdutchmaster@gmail.com

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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 D- ring 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 but 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.