There is a valley in the Appalachian mountains where a confluence of factors led to one of the most unusual chapters in humanity's biologic history. It is scores of miles from anything of note and has been largely isolated for centuries. Even before the arrival of Europeans on the continent, the native peoples avoided the area.

Stories were told of tribes attempting to live in this place that appeared so welcoming but always, the people would grow sick and weak. Hare and squirrels and other small beasts were plentiful but larger animals such as the deer that roam the rest of the region freely could not thrive on its lush vegetation. It seemed that the land itself was poison.

Early in America's western expansion, settlers found the valley and settled it. The local tribes were no longer around to warn them away... if they would have done such a favor for those that had driven them out of their lands and infected them with strange diseases. These early settlers named its small river Ironbrook and thus the valley became known as Ironcleft.

The white men met much the same fate as those who had come before. That first year, five families settled in the lower reaches of the valley. And for the two or three years to follow, they thrived. The livestock they had brought and the crops the planted sustained them. One might say that they were fruitful and did multiply.

After five years, the livestock began to fail. The cattle were the first to die off, young and old alike. The sheep were not far behind although the goats hung on for several years more. The chickens did well though and one family began raising hare for the cook pot. Each year, the harvests of grain and garden vegetables were plentiful. Wild hare were also common as there seemed to be no predators.

The adults that had first settled the land were healthy. The children however, both those that arrived as youngsters and those born in the valley, fared poorly. To a child, everyone under the age of ten was pallid of skin and weak of bone. They were prone to sickness of every sort. Many small graves were dug over those first ten years.

The people of Ironcleft came to believe themselves cursed. Each family was forced to consider leaving the valley.

In the year 1813, Jennifer Stram was born. She was a healthy baby girl born at a time when the adults of the valley were beginning to sicken themselves. They began to appear aged prematurely and lost strength in their limbs. Coughs and fevers became common. Although their crops continued to grow well, the sickening population had difficulty tending the fields and bringing in the harvest.

Despite this, Jennifer Stram thrived. By the time she was four, she was an active and rambunctious kid. But she was the only person under the age of twenty still alive in the valley. Little Jenny was the only bright spot in the increasingly harsh lives of the people of Ironcleft.

When much of the crop of 1818 was left to rot in the fields due to the population's inability perform the hard labor of harvest, the people decided unanimously to leave the valley. The land was cursed for certain and none could stand the prospect of another life lost.

The journey out of isolation was difficult but nothing of great note befell the exodus. The only thing worth mentioning about that trip was Jennifer's behavior. Normally a happy child, she was very fussy and often became agitated. She asked over and over again when they were going home. She seemed to know instinctively which direction Ironcleft lay and twice had to be tracked down after she took off on her own to return home.

They reached settled lands and sought refuge among the healthy and happy people tending the rich farms of young America. Each family found kind folk to take them in, pledging to contribute to their collective livelihood to the best of the ability.

It took many months but the refugees from Ironcleft did slowly recover their vigor. The curse faded with time.

Jenny grew up healthy but wild. She preferred solitude to playing with the other children and could often be found staring off to the west in the direction of her former home. She ate when she grew hungry but insisted that all the food tasted wrong. But still, she ate as much as any adult because she hungered often.

Her build was broad of shoulder but sleek of flank. Her long hair was a dark brown that bordered on black. The complexion of her skin was perhaps the strangest of all. It was clear and unblemished but appeared somewhat coarse. All inhabitants of the countryside were weathered by the sun but Jennifer didn't tan so much as burnish. Her skin had a depth of yellow-and-umber coloring that none had seen before.

Her eyes were a pale blue that was also unfamiliar.

It took her parents and the people of the new community quite a while to notice something else that was unusual about Jennifer. She was rather large for her age and abnormally strong for her size. By the age of ten she was nearly five feet tall. She could carry loads several times her own weight and was already stronger than many adult men.

The strange thing was, Jenny herself felt weak. She never discussed things with anyone but she felt certain that she had been as strong or stronger when she was six as when she was ten. She had gown but felt like she had gotten weaker as she did so. Deep in her heart, Jenny knew that something was wrong.

Everyone worked from the age of eight or so in those days. Jenny proved herself very capable of every physical labor there was. She spent countless hours in the woods with an axe, felling trees and splitting wood for fuel. She had formed no friendships and took every opportunity she could to be alone.

By the age of twelve, Jennifer Stram stood five foot five in her bare feet. Her feet were always bare since she saw no point in wearing shoes; her feet were tougher than any kind of cured hide and on them, shoes tended to get ripped to shreds in a matter of days. She was virtually a stranger to everyone, even her own family. She spoke very little. She was happy to do work and share the fruits of her labor but beyond that she had little connection to the community.

Something did change though at about this time. Jenny's maturing body began flooding her brain with hormones. Her budding breasts softened her squareish chest and traces of hair appeared in the usual places. Jenny grew fascinated with the mating of farm animals and what boys hid between their legs.

All of this is not unusual of course but for Jenny, the new feelings that were invading her mind seemed overwhelming. She also become more interested in babies and would bluntly ask to hold any baby she happened across. Of course, Jenny's strange ways and reputation for not knowing her own strength made mothers nervous and so Jenny had few opportunities to actually experience babies and young children.

Along with her new sexual awareness, Jenny's always-present longing for her home in Ironcleft was suddenly stronger than ever. The thought of raising children in what she had come to think to herself as the "weak lands" filled her with a dread that was almost physical queasiness. At the same time, she desperately wanted to have sex, become a woman and have children.

Ever awkward, Jenny began accosting men and boys. She would try to strike up innocent conversations but this always went poorly. She began skipping words. Any time she found a boy or young man alone, she would attempt to kiss them and grope their body.

Not every male resisted her advances. Several teen boys and a few older men reciprocated her attentions. A boy four years older than her was the first to let Jenny touch his bare penis. It was hard and very warm. Jenny was very gentle with it as she examined it closely and stroked it. It was no more than five inches long but was beautiful to her. She let the boy remove her blouse and cup his hands over her hard little breasts.

They went no farther than that that first day but in the month to come, Jenny got her hands on four more hard cocks, jacking two of them off to climax. One was a married older man of about thirty. Jenny stripped completely for him and let him watch as her strong fingers kneaded the flesh of her nearly bald vagina as she brought herself to climax.

The man's name was Tom. His cock was over six inches long and she asked him to take her virginity but he insisted that he could not be unfaithful to his wife.

The very next time Jenny was alone with a boy, she immediately told him that she wanted him to take her virginity. Samuel was only fifteen and even though she was only twelve, she was bigger than him and obviously much stronger and he was scared of her. If she had been any other girl, he would have been thrilled beyond words at such an opportunity. As it was, it was only the hard look in her eyes that prevented him from fleeing. Escape was obviously impossible.

Still, his hard little dick had no objections. Jenny stripped and lay back in the hay. The boy mounted her as he had seen his parents do a time or two and didn't have much trouble finding her hole. He began to slide in gently. The hot, pulsing head of his cock entered her and he felt her hymen resist his penetration. She was wet and slippery down there and very warm. He pushed harder, knowing that the barrier he was hitting was supposed to break. He couldn't get in. He pushed harder. Jenny was panting heavily beneath him, close to orgasm but becoming frustrated. "Come on boy, push. You're not hurting me, just do it!"

Poor Samuel was trying. His dick was as hard as it had ever been in his life but it threatened to bend in half as he grunted and panted. Jenny's cherry refused to part.

Angry now, Jenny grabbed him by the shirt he still wore and spun him around to the hay next to her. She straddled his hips and grabbed his cock. She forgot to be gentle and Samuel shrieked as she nearly crushed the engorged organ. Ignoring his struggles, she pressed the purple head against her slit and bore down on it. Once again, it pressed against her hymen. She let her body press down harder and harder on the stiff little appendage. Tears were flowing from Samuel's eyes. It felt like his precious horn was going to snap in two. He begged Jenny to stop but she didn't seem to hear.

She had the entire weight of her body on the point of Sam's cock and her stubborn cherry gave no hint that it might break. She tried bouncing on it a couple times. Sam was hitting her now, striking her face and chest with closed fists. There was a desperate strength to his struggles but to Jenny, his blows were completely harmless. She finally noticed his distress. Frustrated beyond words, she relented. She got off the poor kid and stood looking down at him. He immediately bent into a ball, clutching his gentiles. She was so mad at the situation, she almost kicked him. Fortunately for Samuel, Jenny was thoughtless and unsociable but not cruel. She controlled herself and stormed out of the barn.

It was a full five minutes later that she shamefacedly returned. She had left her cloths behind and had made it a couple hundred yards away before noticing her nudity. Sam was still crying, curled up in a ball. Jenny hesitated before leaving him again but told herself that she would check back in a few hours. She didn't really want to deal with the kid and if he could get himself together on his own then that would be easiest.

She did check the barn later that night but Sam was gone. Apparently he never told anyone else about what had happened but he avoided her like seven kinds of plague after that. Actually, he pretty much avoided all women for many years.

Jenny tried two more times in the next week with older guys. A twenty year old with a beautiful penis that reminded her of Tom's struggled for half an hour. Jenny had learned her lesson and did not try to take control... she didn't want to hurt anyone. The guy was aggressive and sure of himself to begin with. He tried ramming himself into her. He made her climax once that way but the barrier held. He let her wrap her legs around his ass and try to force him in. Jenny was hesitant to try this. She knew she could break his pelvis or snap his back if she was not careful. But she did as he asked. He grunted and panted and expressed amazement at her strength. She tried hard not to laugh but failed. When he asked her what was so funny, she just shook her head. She knew better to explain to him how much stronger than that she really was.

After that guy gave up, Jenny was at her wit's end. She went to Tom and told him about the problem. He still refused to make love to her and told her honestly that he didn't think he'd have any better luck. She cried on his shoulder for a while. Finally, he suggested two things. Well, first he told her that he thought she should just wait until she was older but that didn't go over well. So then he offered her two ideas. The first was a name... Arnold Leventher. The second was something Tom hesitate to bring up but Jenny was obviously desperate and it had occurred to him that she could end up really hurting someone. So, he told her that she could consider using something sturdy and roughly penis shaped to break her hymen artificially. But he cautioned her against using anything sharp.

Well, she could always try the later... later. But Arnold Leventher...

She knew the name. He lived some ten miles away and was the blacksmith for the largest town in the area. Two things recommended him as a cherry-buster. First, he was a big man and heavily muscled as blacksmiths usually were. And also, he was something of a brute. He treated women badly. In fact, five years earlier his wife had died. Arnold claimed that it had been fever that took her but the battered and broken condition of the corpse told a different story.

Jenny did not like Arnold. She had considered visiting him before... she wondered which of them was stronger and had had fantasies of humiliating him. But this might be almost as good. With the way Jenny's mind work, it never occurred to her that she could be the one that got hurt. She did not think herself invincible... far from it. She had had enough minor accidents while working in the woods to know that she could be injured. But she just never thought in terms of threats and fear.

Not only might Arnold be physically strong enough to take Jennifer's virginity, any damage that might be done to him in the process would be a form of justice.

Tom had actually given some serious thought to that suggestion. Based on a few things he had seen... especially the time he had watched Jenny drag an enormous log across a field when she thought no one was watching... Tom was pretty sure she was much stronger than the blacksmith and would be able to protect herself. He found himself hoping that the man would get hurt and wished he could watch.

Jenny came upon Arnold as he headed home from the tavern a few nights later. He was in a foul mood because the owner had thrown him out once again for bothering the women. Arnold figured he could whip any three men but the tavern had been full of husbands and brothers and fathers that would have been happy to help teach the blacksmith a lesson in respect. Well, he'd just visit the tavern later when the owner and his family were alone...

Arnold only vaguely knew who Jenny was. Her family lived nearly a day's travel away. She looked to be sixteen or so and very ripe. She walked up to him boldly and told him he was the only real man she'd ever met and she wanted him to teach her what it meant to be a woman. Jenny was a terrible liar. If he hadn't had such a delusional, inflated opinion of his own importance or maybe if he hadn't been distracted by the shape of her nipples showing through the thin dress she wore, he may have been suspicious. As it was, his anger at the world vanished in a blink at the prospect of some delicate young flesh. He told her he'd be happy to oblige and immediately grabbed her by the waste and wrapped his hands around the globes of her ass. When he felt the hard power of her muscles, he mistakenly believed her to be resisting. Jenny thought she was just wiggling playfully.

She pushed herself away from him, breaking his hold effortlessly. She asked him to take her to his home. He led her down the street, his hand wrapped around her forearm, hauling her along as was his habit. He was normally deaf to a woman's complaints at such rough handling and so did not notice their lack as Jenny followed quietly.

Arnold stood 5'10" and was massive across the chest and shoulders. Jenny's deceptive form was lean without obvious muscle mass... one of Arnold's biceps was probably equal to three of hers. The crown of her head met the level of his lips and like every woman he'd ever been with, he dwarfed Jenny. And like every woman he'd ever been with, willing or otherwise, he spent no time on endearments or even basic kindness. As soon as they entered his hovel, he shoved her down onto the course straw mattress.

Jenny watched him calmly as he stripped off his clothing. His cock was already hard when she got a look at it in the flickering lantern light. It was probably seven inches long and very thick. It was the largest one she had seen to date and her body shivered in anticipation. Surely someone as big and strong as Arnold, with a member of that stature, would be able to take her virginity.

Arnold saw her staring at his dick and grinned. He detected no fear in her eyes... normally a young girl would be crying by this point. This young lady must really be hot to trot. If someone had told him at that moment that she was only twelve, he wouldn't believe them. True, her body's shape didn't seem entirely mature but she was so tall and study looking she must be fully grown.

Arnold placed his hands at the neck of her dress and ripped it from her. Watching a woman leave his place huddled behind tattered clothing was enormously satisfying as was the shocked expression that always accompanied even this simple violation. His eyes burned as he gazed upon her softly trembling bosom. The nipples topping her small mounds were dark of hue and crinkled hard with anticipation. She had worn no undergarment. Chuckling, he covered her body with his, grabbing her crotch with his right hand. There was very little of her dark hair down there and the lips of her slit were thin. But the mound was soft and he could feel the little pea of her clitoris roll around under his palm.

She was wet down there. She was ready. He told her how lucky she was and how great being a woman was going to be. Arnold's attitude towards women was schizophrenic... he had no real respect for them and imagined their lives to be centered solely around sex. He thought they liked his rough ways but he also liked the way they would cry and beg.

He centered his body over hers and pressed his knob into her slit. Her labia parted easily and his head slid into her honey hole. His grin got even wider when he felt the barrier there. She really was cherry. He stayed there many long heartbeats, relishing the anticipation. Then, without warning, he thrust forward powerfully.

Jenny grunted as his weight bore her down into the mattress. She could feel the thin barrier of flesh strain against the pressure... but it held.

It took Arnold a few moments to realize he hadn't penetrated her. He looked down at her in puzzlement. "You'll have to do better than that" she said with a hint of condescension.

Not knowing whether to laugh or snarl at that, Arnold tried again. He settled his entire weight onto the girl but to no avail. He jabbed at her repeatedly, panting heavily. It was like some kind of nightmare... to have such a lovely morsel at the tip of his cock but to be unable to skewer her properly.

After five minutes of tolerating his efforts, Jenny had enough. "I thought you were a man. I thought you could make me a woman. But you can't. But you're no good to me at all."

Angry and confused, Arnold responded the only way he knew how. He closed his fist, cocked it back and let fly with a haymaker punch. It was the kind of punch that broke jaws and knocked grown men out. It was the kind of punch that had killed his wife.

Jenny's head whipped back under the impact as his knuckles plastered themselves across her cheek. The punch stung but her head remained clear. She had been half waiting for things to turn violent ever since Tom suggested this course of action. She looked into his eyes and sneered. "Why didn't you say you wanted to play rough?" she asked.

She wrapped her legs around his ass and clenched him towards her. Fortunately, his penis was still in line and it sunk in to press against her hymen. Jenny pressed against his backside with enough strength to crush a log.

Arnold screamed. His dick simply bent under the pressure and his pelvis was forced against hers. Her cherry still did not break but as the pressure continued to mount, his pelvis threatened to.

When his shaft bent, Jenny thought for a moment that she had finally lost her virginity. But then she realized she could still feel the same pressure against her hymen. Wondering what had happened, she released him and then tossed him out of the bed. He hit the floor hard, prone on his back. There was a stunned expression in his eyes.

She knelt beside him and examined his dick. A deep band of bruising showed where it had buckled under pressure. She jerked and twisted at it briefly. Aside from the bruising, it seemed intact and was still hard. "Well, let's try this then." She muttered.

Jenny straddled the blacksmith and directed his abused cock back to the entrance of her slit. She sank all her weight down onto it.

This roused Arnold. Shaking his head in un-accustomed fear, he attempted to fight Jenny off. She kept her feet hooked around the tops of his legs, forcing them flat and denying them any leverage. Arnold swung a fist at her again... she caught it in one hand, squeezing it enough to make the joints grind. She grabbed his other arm and held them both aloft. Arnold thrashed around desperately but could not weaken her iron grip.

Jenny began bouncing up and down on his manhood. She was making no progress with her cherry but the stimulation felt good. Arnold was blubbering and begging now. Smiling down at him, Jenny began using his arms for extra leverage, pulling herself down harder and harder onto his body.

His cock was bending in half with every bounce now, bursting blood vessels along its entire length.

Jenny brought herself to climax and dismounted her ruined steed. "That was kind of fun but I'm still a virgin." She said to no one in particular. Arnold's genitals were swollen and nearly black with bruising. His eyes were vacant and he appeared to be unconscious or at least in some sort of shock.

Jenny looked around the filthy little room and found a hatchet near the door. Hefting it, she examined the handle. It wasn't quite as thick as Arnolds cock but was much longer and no doubt sturdier. Shrugging with resignation, Jenny sank to her knees and positioned the butt of the handle against her pussy and let the hatchet's head rest on the wooden floor. She bore down on her hymen with all her weight.

It hurt. It hurt more than anything else she had tried which she took to be a good sign. Lifting herself a bit, she tried dropping down onto the shaft. The pain made her grunt but her cherry held. She jabbed at it this way multiple times, dropping farther and harder with each attempt. Tears were streaming from her eyes in pain and frustration.

Finally, she stood up. Gathering her resolve, she concentrated for a moment and then let her body drop like a stone, holding the tool tightly to her maidenhead and centering all her weight and momentum on it.

She screamed when it struck the floor but quickly realized that her amazing flesh still had not yielded. Sobbing in pain and frustration, Jenny wracked her brain.

She was relying on gravity and she soon realized that that was her mistake. She sometimes caught herself thinking like an ordinary person. For most people, using gravity to increase the force they could bring to bear made sense. The weight of their bodies and the momentum of a fall could usually produce more power than their muscles alone.

That wasn't true for Jenny - not by a long shot. Her sturdy and dense frame was heavier than it looked but not by all that much. Jenny was suddenly convinced that all she really needed was her own strength and some way to get leverage against her own body.

Looking around the room, she noticed that Arnold's bed sat a foot off the floor on sturdy wooded legs. Rising again, moisture-slickened hatchet in one hand, Jenny bent to move Arnold's body out of the way. She hooked one arm between his legs and around one thigh. She absently noticed that he was still breathing. She lifted his lower body, braced his thigh against her own, twisted and heaved.

The blacksmith's heavy form flipped through the air, landing against the far wall of the small shack. Arnold groaned and curled up into a ball, wishing he could wake up from his nightmare.

Jenny sat down near the leg at the foot of the bed. She scooted in close and slid her right leg under the bed. She slid the handle back into her vagina's entrance and hooked her calf around the bed's leg. Pulling the bed towards her, the girl set the hatchet's head against the wooden board. Awkwardly, she swung her other leg around to hook the bed atop its mate. Now she would be able to pull herself onto the hatchet with the strength of both of her legs.

Licking her lips and taking a breath, Jenny crunched her legs, pulling the bed and hatchet in to her body.

Almost instantly, Jenny began to see stars as her hymen protested. Steeling herself, she continued increasing pressure.

Panting heavily to keep from screaming, Jenny felt the flesh of her pussy stretch reluctantly. The girl was using two or three times the pressure that had nearly killed Arnold and was approaching the limit of her strength... but then it happened. With a shriek given volume by her powerful lungs that would sting her throat for days and could be heard two miles away, Jenny felt an explosion of pain that made everything else seem trivial. Her cherry gave way and the rest of the hatchet's handle plunged into her sex like a battering ram, the steel head smashing her clit like a thumb under a hammer.

The pain was excruciating but at the same time her body was flooded with a feeling of elated release. Pussy burning with pain and clitoris throbbing with stunned agony, Jenny climaxed as she had never before in her short experience.

After recovering for several minutes, the newly made woman pulled herself away from the bed and extracted the hatchet from her aching pussy. There was very little blood on it. Why had it hurt so much? That was a bit of a silly question of course since she had just subjected her genitals to enough pressure to squeeze the life out of a horse or drive a fence post four feet into the ground

In her tattered dress, Jenny left the shack a few minutes later, Arnold all but forgotten. The blacksmith never caused anyone any trouble again. He lived, mind you, but his manhood was utterly incapable of an erection and his mind held deep fears of which he never spoke.







Having taken care of her virginity, Jenny Stram set out to get pregnant. She couldn't explain her motives but she was driven by two overwhelming urges... to become a mother and to return to the Ironcleft valley.

She pursued the former in her typically direct manner. Within two weeks of her encounter with the blacksmith and his hatchet, she had sex dozens of times with ten different men and boys. Growing tired of sneaking around barns and outhouses, Jenny decided to build herself a shack in the woods. In the process, she learned to split logs evenly and some simple carpentry. The tiny cabin was only about 5 foot by ten foot and had a dirt floor covered with blankets laid over straw. A few boards nailed together and leaned against the entrance served as her door.

Jenny continued to do most of the community's fuel collection but became even more reclusive. Nevertheless, word had gotten out to every male within twenty miles... Jenny Stram would fuck anyone at any time. All you had to do was walk up to her and she'd take you to her rough bed and mate with you. Or let you mount her on the ground where you stood.

Within a month of her shack's first christening, there wasn't a virgin male over the age of twelve to be found within a day's travel.

Jennifer's body seemed all but incapable of fatigue. She'd work chopping and hauling wood ten or twelve hours a day, only stopping for a few minutes now and then to stuff some food in her mouth or fuck someone who happened to be passing by. At night, a steady stream of visitors kept her legs spread and the portal to her womb bathed in seed. Her eyes would grow heavy and she would sleep but at no time was her body ever slowed by fatigue.

She stopped concealing her strength. She built herself a two-sided rack-and-harness arrangement to help her carry and deliver wood. It was made of wooden staves and leather straps and hung from her shoulders. She was able to stack loads of firewood across her chest and back, allowing her to balance a large load. She had a frame for it that allowed her to load it up first before slipping into it.

The sight of a ten-foot stack of wood traveling down the road atop a pair to flashing brown legs became common in the area. Jenny regularly carried 800 pounds or more with her rig, traveling many miles without rest. 

In the early fall of that year, rumors of Indian raiders operating to the west were the main topic of the day. A company of militia passed through the area while on the way to confront the menace. When the fifty men and officers settled in to camp for the night, Jenny offered her services. The local males were all so busy with the start of the harvest that her supply of cock had dwindled down to just two or three guys a day. If she had still been getting her full accustomed diet, even Jenny Stram would have probably thought twice about placing herself into the tender care of so many young men. But as it was, she had urges that were not being satisfied and she just couldn't help herself.

The company stayed through the entire next day and night. The officers would have faced mutiny if they had insisted on leaving such an opportunity behind. Over the course of thirty-six hours or so, Jenny copulated with every member of the militia at least once and in some cases four or five times. Every two hours or so she went for a dip in a nearby stream and the troops kept her supplied with food and drink. In the darkest hours of the night she got four hours of sleep or so.

There was no stop in Jenny Stram. Hours of being roughly fucked on her back atop coarse blankets or dry grass left no marks or bruises. A number of the men, psychological cousins to blacksmith Arnold, roughly mauled her chest and attempted to bend her body in unnatural ways. The mauling felt good and left no sign of the violence done. Her body would not bend a single millimeter farther than it wished.

There was only one young but oversized private that she felt the need to actually resist. He wanted to stick his dick in her ass and wasn't taking no for an answer. So she'd tossed him ten feet in the air and over a nearby fire. That had given the troops pause but only as long as it took her to spread her legs again.

Jenny climaxed hundreds of times and gallons of sperm was shot into her hole.

Even after thirty hours of constant sex, her pussy was a tight little slit that left many of the men bruised and tender. When the officers finally got the men moving late the second morning, Jenny just put her simple dress back on and started chopping wood. Aside from the constant drainage from her vagina running down her legs, she showed no signs of wear. That night two locals visited her and they noticed nothing different about her body or her eagerness.

It was too bad the company couldn't stay longer.

Five months after losing her virginity, Jenny Stram missed her menstrual cycle for the second time in a row. She knew that she was pregnant. She began making plans to leave for Ironcleft. She did not know why the urge to return to her birthplace was so strong but it was unmistakable. Perhaps she could have resisted the urge if she had had a greater connection to the folk she lived among but that was not the case. She would miss her parents and Tom, the only other person she had been able to have real conversations with. Ironically, he was one of the very few men in the area that had never fornicated with her. She had plans to change that but first she had other tasks to complete.

Jenny Stram was hardly qualified to found a homestead on her own. She knew little of farming or hunting or the preparation of food. Even with her strength and endurance, the notion of a single person with little experience heading out into the wilds was preposterous. For a young expectant mother to do so was outright suicidal. But once again, Jenny simply never felt fear or perceived danger very well. She didn't even feel concern over the prospect of giving birth alone in the wilderness.

Knowing that she was pregnant reduced Jenny's overwhelming sex drive somewhat. She was no longer subject to the constant need to have her pussy filled hot man-cream. But the men of the area still sought her out and she saw no reason to turn any away. Indeed, having the edge taken off her hunger allowed her to enjoy the experience more. And sex with Jenny became a less bruising and dangerous adventure for the men as well.

By the time Jennifer began planning for her move to Ironclift, she had turned thirteen and stood 5'8". She was already taller than a majority of men. Her breasts continued to gradually fill out though they were still less than a handful. The swell of her hips softened and rounded slightly and the pelt between her legs had thickened considerably.

Her dark hair was long and ragged, extending down to the middle of her back when it wasn't knotted on top of her head. The dark tone of her skin was unblemished by any kind of mark save her almost black nipples and areolas. Though it appeared soft; to the touch there was a surprising dry, rubbery texture to it. Water beaded on her skin oddly.

Jenny began collecting supplies. Seeds for wheat and corn and a collection of vegetables as well as some potatoes. She would take her two large axes and a variety of hatchets and steel wedges. She packed hoes and shovels. Bolts of thick wool and her meager collection of clothing as well. Vaguely aware that salt could be used to preserve meat, she bought a fifty pound bag. Some cast iron skillets and a dutch oven also went into her load.

She modified her carry rig with large burlap bags and loaded it up. Even living in the weak lands where she could barely stomach the food, Jenny ate about twice what a gown man did. After dealing with what essentials she thought she needed, she topped off the rest of her pack with flour and corn meal and lard and some salted pork.

The frame supporting her pack collapsed once and she had to re-build it. When she had loaded everything she thought she could manage, the entire rig weighed just under a thousand pounds. Jenny didn't get along with horses very well and she would be traveling across open country that would render any wagon far more of a burden than help. She would simply carry everything she needed herself. In one trip. Probably traveling twelve hours a day at a fast walk.

She would be leaving just as spring began to lick the snow-covered land. Ironcleft lay about a hundred and fifty miles away; Jenny thought she could make it there in no more than four days. Three if things went well.

Before leaving, she said goodbye to her parents. Her decision to leave did not surprise them and they knew there was no way to keep her from leaving but they begged her to wait until after their grandchild was born. Jenny tried to explain how important it was that Jenny start eating the proper food she was sure she would find in the valley so that her child may grow properly and become strong. Whatever curse the land held, Jenny was certain that it was the source of her strength and that her baby would inherit it.

The weak lands were no place for a child of hers.

Jenny visited Tom the night before she planned to leave. She would have dearly loved to have her child fathered by him but that had not happened; she had no clue who the father was. But she still felt that her relationship with the older man was incomplete and was determined to make love to him. In fact, it was the first time she had thought of sex in those terms.

Jenny stood in Tom's home and removed her dress. She grabbed Tom and kissed him hard. He was of equal height with her and her body melded closely to his. She tried to be gentle, careful not to hurt him.

Tom struggled and told her to stop. He yelled at her. His wife walked in and started screaming at Jenny. Angry and frustrated, Jenny released the man and turned on Tom's wife. Murder was in her eyes. The woman went silent in fear, backing away hastily but refusing to leave the room. "Get out." Tom said. Jenny turned back to him, hurt and shock in her eyes. "Jenny, you need to learn. You can't have everything your way. Get out".

Jenny grabbed his arm near the shoulder. Tom winced, afraid it would break. She pawed the front of his trousers. "You're hard. I can just take what I want."

Tom was shaking with emotion. "Yes, you can. I'm asking you not to ruin my marriage. I'm asking you to leave."

"But this is our last chance, Tom." Jenny pleaded. "I'm leaving tomorrow. I'm going back to Ironcleft."

"I know Jenny. I wish you good fortune and whatever happiness you can find. But I can't have sex with you."

Jenny stared at him a long time. His wife was sobbing quietly, afraid at what might happen. For a moment, Jenny gripped his arm harder, making him gasp in pain. He could swear the bone was bending. But with a jerk, she released him. Turning on her heals; she stalked out of the house. She ripped the door of its hinges as she went, gritting her teeth and venting her anger. She threw it across the yard and it shattered against the side of the barn, staving in some of the wall's boards as it hit.

She blazed a straight path to her shack in the woods, leaving uprooted bushes and shattered fence posts in her wake. Her vision was crimson with rage. Twice she stopped and turned, nearly returning to take what she wanted. It crossed her mind that if Tom's wife were dead, he could not refuse her. But ultimately, she knew she would feel the guilt for the rest of her life.

When she reached her shack, her vision had cleared and her blood was no longer roaring in her ears. She felt spent and empty inside. There were two men waiting there for her, expecting a chance to screw the local weirdo slut. She ignored them.

Her rampage across the county had left her dress in tatters. She'd worn her best for Tom but it didn't matter now. Tearing it off, she dropped it in the smoldering firepit. The men grinned but she did not acknowledge them. Mustering the last of her rage and roaring, she extended her arms and ran through her shed, pulling it down around her and busting through the far wall. The structure collapsed. Screaming and sobbing, she picked up the pieces of her home and beat them against the ground and nearby trees, busting it down to smaller and smaller pieces. She broke thick boards across her own head and knees.

The two men fled for their lives.

When there was nothing left to break, she piled most of the wreckage on top of the fire. She didn't stay long enough to watch it catch. She gathered a bunch of blankets and a few last pieces of clothing from the spot of ground where her shack and been and stuffed them into her pack. Still naked, she slipped into her rig and lifted it. The straps groaned and squeaked as the load settled across her body. With difficulty, she was able to maneuver the pack's stand up onto the top of her load... she had no other way of getting into the rig and would need it later.

There was no reason to wait until tomorrow.

Tears trailing from her eyes and a thousand pounds of supplies across her shoulders, Jennifer Stram headed west, away from anything hinting at civilization and its weakness.







Jennifer slept for a few hours around dawn wrapped in a couple blankets and then carried on. Her breath showed in the crisp spring air but her body stayed warm from exertion and she remained naked. The leather straps supporting her load would have worn through any clothing in under an hour. They did nothing more to her tough skin than leave pale pressure marks that faded within minutes.

Jenny made good time, her long tireless strides eating up the miles. She bypassed two homesteads that she recognized by the trails of smoke they cast skyward and never saw another soul.

After a day of travel, she came upon a river. She didn't know its name or if it even had one but she was pretty sure it was the one Ironbrook fed into. She followed it for about fifty miles along its east bank. She was looking for a place to cross as well as the stream that would lead her home.

Jenny couldn't swim. She had tried but it was perhaps the only physical activity for which she was ill suited. Her dense body sank like a stone. Of course, even if she could swim, that wouldn't get her pack across. She had to find a crossing where she could wade. She had been so young when her family had fled the valley, she had no idea how or where they had forded the barrier.

Finally, she did find a broad and shallow stretch. She load on her back weighed her down and gave her additional purchase against the current. She had some difficulty when the water got deep enough to start washing against her packs. They extended down to her hips and when the water started pushing against them, she had to fight powerfully against it. The load made her extremely top-heaving and balance was a challenge. The riverbed was coarse gravel that slid from under her feet continuously.

By keeping her stance spread wide and by constantly digging her toes deep into the river bed, she was able of make slow progress and finally crossed to the other side.

The river crossing had been stressful and had been the most tiring thing Jenny had ever experienced. She hastily removed her pack, not taking the time to untangle its stand but letting it collapse onto the ground. She'd have to reassemble it later but she had no schedule to keep.

She went to drink from the river.

The clear, cold water tasted wonderful. It almost made her toes tingle. It took several minutes for realization to dawn on Jenny. There was a taste in the water that she recognized. A taste she had been craving for all the years she was separated from her rightful home.

Plunging her face into the waters, she drank deeply. The medley of flavors, bitter and metallic and acrid all at the same time, were faint by unmistakable. She was on the right track. It must be the essence of Ironcleft that she tasted.

Quickly eating some hard bread and a hunk of pork, Jenny rebuilt her rig and slid into it. Eager now, she headed upstream.

It was early on her third day of travel when she came upon a confluence. She held her breath. Was this the Ironbrook? There was no way to tell just by looking. She tasted the waters of the tributary. The flavors she sought exploded in her mouth. The woman trembled with excitement. She'd found it. She could follow this glorious stream up into the mountains and finally be home.

She quickly covered the final ten miles, following the Ironbrook upstream. Shortly after noon, she came across the first ruined homestead. The small, doomed settlement into which she had been born had been comprised of eight families by the time the people had given up in the face of pervasive sickness. Jenny stood with her load on her back, staring at the weather-worn cabin. The shutters had fallen away from both its windows and she could see grass and weeds sprouting thickly from between the rough floorboards.

Jenny would have liked to explore a bit but that would have meant taking off her pack. That was a chore that she had quickly grown to hate.

So she pressed on further upstream. The settlement had been widely scattered along roughly three miles of the stream's course. Jenny vaguely remembered that her family's home had been on the southern side of the stream and was one of the furthest up the valley.

As she went, she saw signs of former habitation. The small fields the people had worked had been invaded by native growth but still also contained a lot of the corn and wheat that had been planted there. As she remembered from her childhood, there were rabbits and field mice everywhere. The cursed valley was a haven for small creatures... they seemed immune to whatever it was that killed off the larger creatures while foxes and wolves and bears most certainly were not immune. Of course, predators from neighboring valleys did often stray into the toxic territory and the land's poison was very slow working but on average, there were fewer threats to small creatures here.

Jenny had her face towards the afternoon sun and could see little of the terrain in front of her. Because of this, she almost passed her former home. But after nearly tripping over an old fence rail, she looked around and saw the old cabin a couple hundred yards away.

She ran the final distance, half a ton supplies rattling around about her violently. The small yard in front of the house where she clattered to a stop was completely overgrown. Shaking with excitement, Jenny wrestled her pack off her shoulders and cast it aside. Her gear flew twenty feet and crushed a path through the tall grass.

The door was still on its hinges. She opened it gently.

****

Over the next several months, Jenny Stram worked to make a home in the old settlement. She scoured the area for anything useful that had been left behind. The people of Ironcleft had been in bad shape by the time the decision was made to flee the cursed land and they had left most of their possessions behind. Jenny had her choice of a half-dozen plows and there were two anvils, though the woman knew nothing of blacksmithing. She also had her choice of houses but remained in her family home.

Jenny drank her fill of Ironbrook water at every opportunity. It continued to fulfill her in ways no other food or drink had since she had left the supposedly cursed land. It was early in the season and the corn and wheat struggling to grow in the weed-choked fields were far from harvest but there were rabbits and feral chickens in abundance.

The young woman knew nothing of trapping and the twine snares she tried to devise failed to catch a single critter. However, Jenny soon abandoned these knotted tangles when she discovered how easy it was to bring down a rabbit with a thrown rock. Her reflexes were no better than an ordinary person's but she had a knack for throwing accurately and the small stones whipped from her powerful arm with shocking speed. The only problem was that the blows her missiles inflicted tended to shatter bones, making dressing the animals more difficult.

The meat of the chickens and rabbits she killed was as deeply satisfying as Ironbrook's water. Jenny gorged herself repeatedly, eating eight or ten rabbits a night. Several times she went to bed with a visible bulge in her stomach.

Jenny wore no clothing. Nothing short of ancient plate mail could offer her better protection than her own skin and short of that, her hard labor would quickly shred anything she tried to wear. She left her few cloths packed away for some unforeseeable future occasion.

As long as she was active, she never felt cold. She did bundle up thoroughly when going to sleep though and would feel the chill each morning as she began her day.

With food so abundant for the time being, Jenny's days were free of care. She spent much of her time exploring the valley. In the open plains of the lower valley, she would run everywhere.

Jenny could run faster than a galloping horse for four or five hours without growing tired. It was sometimes difficult to get started and even harder to stop or turn but in a straight line, Jenny could cover ground at an amazing pace.

Free of any burdens, Jenny would even leave the valley for a time, exploring for a couple hundred miles in every direction. The un-named community she had recently left was within this range and was the largest but there was a score of lone homesteads and small villages in the area. Jenny realized that eventually she would have to have some contact with other people. If nothing else, she intended to have more than just one child.

Jenny passed the summer in idyllic bliss in this way. Slowly, her stomach began to grow with the life that was taking shape there. She would probably be giving birth in late fall. This should have concerned the girl but it didn't. She was merely excited. She was feeling better and stronger than ever before in her life. She was more certain than ever that Ironcleft was her place in the world and it would be for her children as well.

Jenny ate freely from the vegetable gardens that had been left behind by the settlers. They were in very poor shape by any standard but they did produce a little fresh food. As fall approached, she harvested corn and wheat as best she could. Her methods where crude and inefficient but being alone, she didn't need an enormous stockpile.

Over the course of the summer and most of that fall, Jenny Stram grew another two inches in height.

She slowed her activities some as her belly grew heavy. There was nothing about the negligible weight of her baby and its support system that made anything difficult for her but she feared hurting it. As the weather grew colder her breasts swelled in preparation for the child that was to come. At her reduced level of activity, Jenny began feeling the cold more. She clumsily stitched dozens of rabbit skins together in multiple layers to make herself a coat. She also made a thickly lined pack to carry the baby in.

Jenny stockpiled water, dried rabbit meat and stacks of the coarse flat-bread she had been making as she sensed the approach of the birth. Her wood pile was always well stocked. For a week she kept to the cabin doing nothing more strenuous than patching cracks in the walls. She had ignored them before but with the approach of winter and her baby, it was something that needed to be done.

The big day was clear but quite cold and she struggled to keep the cabin warm. She felt the first pain as she bent over to stoke the fire. She sat on her straw-filled bed, hands over her belly, waiting. It was a full hour before she felt the pain again. It made sweat bead on her upper lip.

The next thirty hours were hell.

The birth turned into a battle of enormous forces. It was reminiscent of her fight to remove her virginity though on an infinitely greater scale. The enormous strength of her body fought against its phenomenal resilience. Jenny's birth canal was every bit as smooth and pink as any other woman's but it resisted stretching as if made of steel. On the other hand, the freakish girl was fully capable of bending and stretching that metal.

Jenny experienced many long bouts of panicked fear as she was certain her struggle must harm her baby. Indeed, the pressures she was being forced to exert would have crushed brick. But Jenny's baby was made of stronger stuff.

The sun had fallen and risen again before the battle ended. It ended not with a final titanic effort but with hours of unrelenting force. The bed was torn apart, its frame turned to splinters early in the ordeal. Jenny had sweated literal buckets, constantly refreshing herself from the casks of water she had stockpiled.

Finally, the baby was free of its prison. Jenny was beside herself with grief for nearly an hour when she saw the red, misshapen seeming mass. She had never attended a birthing and didn't know that babies usually looked like that. But, the baby had begun to breathe on its own and was soon wailing. Jenny examined and cleaned the infant. It was a boy and less misshapen than she had thought. Indeed, as its color improved and its tiny limbs waved weakly about, it began to look human.

Actually, he was beautiful. Despite the scrunched-up face.

She named him Stanley.







The mountainous region around Ironcleft was known for mild but wet winters. As snow piled up outside her cabin, Jenny Stram learned to be a mother. Her modest breasts produced milk at a frantic rate to keep up with Stanley's needs. Jenny herself was eating more than she anticipated. She had enough corn and coarsely-ground wheat to last two or three winters but her craving for protein had driven her to consume all the dried meat quickly. They also went through firewood at a fantastic rate trying to keep the drafty cabin warm.

The nearby stream kept Jenny supplied with water. Daily she would bundle up in her rabbit-fur coat and trudge down the snowy path with two large casks. It had been many years since she owned a pair of shoes and she had brought none on her exodus. Most mornings she would have to kick a hole in the thin layer of ice covering the Ironbrook to reach the swiftly-flowing water beneath. She certainly felt the cold but suffered no ill effects.

The filled casks weighed nearly a hundred pounds each but by the time she had them filled, her feet were stinging with the cold and she usually rushed back to the cabin with powerful leaping strides that seemed to ignore their weight. She lost a lot of water that way but there was always enough to see her through to the next day.

A month after Stanley's birth, his mother's craving for fresh meat became overpowering. She remembered from her childhood that the rabbits and other small creatures of the area remained active through the winter on all but the very coldest days. She lay awake one night debating whether to leave Stanley alone in the cabin while she went out to hunt or to take him with her. Neither option seemed very good. In the end, she decided that by taking him with her she would know how he was doing at all times. She'd just have to be careful to keep him warm and not do something stupid that might crush him under her body or twist one of his little limbs. She had learned that her son was a tuff little guy but she had no intention of putting him to any kind of test.

The next day Jenny waited until the sun had warmed a bit before venturing out. She placed the infant in the fur pack she had made and strapped it securely to her naked chest and stomach. Then she wrapped her own coat around both of them. Her son was completely encased in fur and pressed against her warm body. If she stood quietly, she could feel his steady breathing and what she thought was the beating of his heart... but that might have been her own.

She grabbed a sack of throwing stones and stepped out into the blinding day.

The snow was two feet deep in most places but she encountered sunken drifts that were probably over her head. She picked a direction and shuffled her way into the countryside, one hand pressed protectively against her precious cargo.

She was approaching a stand of trees when she finally saw some rabbit tracks. The trees appeared to act as a wind-break and the snow was only a couple inches deep. The local herbivores had been feeding here.

Jenny kept expecting to get tired of rabbit meat but just the sight of those tracks made her mouth water. Thinking herself clever, she remained downwind from the little clearing and crouched down low in the snow about fifty feet away. She fished out a stone and held it loosely in her right hand. Then, she waited.

Jenny's feet became very cold. She could feel the warmth of her body being drawn down into the ground through the slush that had formed around them. She tried to put the discomfort out of her mind.

Jenny reckoned an hour passed without any sign of life. The sun was high in the sky but gave little warmth. She began to shiver. Stanley had begun to fuss quietly; she knew he was hungry and perhaps cold. But she couldn't bring herself to abandon the idea of fresh meet for dinner.

Another half hour passed. Though she could not see them, Jenny's lips had turned blue and she was shivering violently. Stanley had gone quiet but Jenny could still feel him breathing and when she snaked her hand in to check on him, he was deliciously warm to the touch. Her breasts ached with a heavy load of milk and her feet had lost all feeling.

That's when a furry brown shape darted across the clearing.

Jenny sprang upright without thinking and her arm snapped. The throw was true, catching the hare on the rump and sending it tumbling. The impact was so violent that the animal's spine snapped.

Jenny rushed forward, another stone in her hand. She scanned the clearing but there was no other life. The hare was still alive, struggling to right itself with its fore-legs and fight the weight of its deadened hind quarters. Jenny picked the rabbit up and twisted its neck.

Then she stated cussing. She was nearly numb with cold and barely able to control her shivering body and all she had to show for it was one lousy hare. She hadn't thought things through at all. No more prey would be venturing into this clearing any time soon. And there was no way she was going to start over again someplace else... her body just couldn't take it.

So, stumbling on numb feet, Jenny headed home. Stanley was ravenous by the time she got to the cabin and built up the fire. He drained her breasts in record time and wailed for more. But she let him fuss while she cooked and ate the hare.

She'd have to find a better way.

The next day she woke with a new determination. She had been a fool to waste time lying in wait for hours. Her strengths were better suited to a more aggressive approach.

She fed her son and wrapped him securely in blankets and the fur pack. She used its straps to anchor him firmly to the center of her bed. She would leave him behind this time. It was a risk but Jenny convinced herself that he would be fine, even if she was gone for an entire day.

Jenny had been largely inactive for nearly two months. She decided to find out if her body had recovered from the ordeal of pregnancy and child birth.

It was mid-morning when she was ready to depart. Checking on Stanley a final time, she stepped outside and shut the door firmly behind her.

Clouds were beginning to form and the day looked like it would turn overcast. Jenny was naked, her brown skin a sharp contrast to the white countryside. She intended to move fast today. Her coat would only get in the way and she knew that if she kept moving, her body's own energy would keep her warm. The only thing she wore was a strap over her shoulder and across her belly from which she hung her sack of stones and a knife.

The girl's nipples were hard and pebbly in the cold morning air. Her breasts were loose and hanging, empty for the time being.

Jenny took off running. Her legs pumped through the snow effortlessly, leaving a cloud of powder hanging in her wake. The footing was unusual but quickly Jenny got into the proper rhythm of digging her toes in deep and thrusting forward powerfully with each stride. She streaked towards the small clearing she had hunted in the day before. In her right hand she gripped a stone and in her left, four or five more.

She burst into the clearing so quickly, the three rabbits that had been feeding there had very little time to react. Skidding almost out of control, she had no hope of coming to a stop but instead, struck in passing. Her arm snapped once, the rock she threw exploding her target's head like an over-ripe plum. Grabbing another rock from her left hand, Jenny let her body spin and flung another missile with blinding speed. The throw caught another furry form on a trailing leg, shattering bone and whipping its body around viscously.

Jenny's careening body tumbled into the snow-covered underbrush at the edge of the clearing and she skidded to a stop curled up on her side. Loose branches and cascading snow covered her quickly.

Jenny began laughing. That had been fun. One of the hare had gotten away but she had bagged two in about as many seconds. She extracted herself from the bushes. She was breathing normally, aside from the laughter, and her skin was unmarred despite her rough encounter with the foliage. The snow she had picked up from her tumble melted quickly against her hot skin.

One rabbit was dead outright. The other appeared to be in shock, shivering in pain but unable to move. She wrung its neck. Finding a handy branch, she hung her kill up where she could find it later. Brushing her bloody hands off in the snow, she picked a direction and bounded off across the countryside.

Over the next couple hours, Jenny covered over twenty miles. Eight times she had flushed prey and had bagged five of them. She was in the lowest parts of the Ironcleft valley now and was near the low ridge that defined its northern border. Jenny was fairly familiar with the area from her summer ramblings. She bounded up the side of the ridge, leaping up small cliffs of twenty feet or more as she did so.

She crested the ridge and looked out over the neighboring valley. As luck would have it, a small herd of deer were grazing nearby, pawing at the snow to dig up fresh fodder.

Jenny was just beginning to breathe hard from the morning exertions though a good deal of that was due to her elation. It felt so good to be out and about. Some small part of her could feel that she had lost a little strength over the last few months but she was certain it would all come back and she was definitely still stronger than she had been when living in the Weak Lands.

As Jenny Stram stood atop the ridge breathing deeply, her eyes were repeatedly drawn to the deer. On the one hand, their meat would hold little of Ironcleft's essence. On the other, they represented a lot of meat. Her eyes focused on a healthy buck with a wide spread of antlers.

Eyes slit with intent and nostrils wide with excitement, Jenny plunged down into the valley. The herd was half a mile away but had noticed the movement on the nearby ridgeline. In their skittish tradition, they turned as a group to flee the unknown disturbance.

Jenny streaked across the flat land. In passing and almost without thought, she leapt a small stream, vaulting thirty feet from raised bank to raises bank, clearing both the stream itself and its wider flood channel and landing in stride. Another time she vaulted a collection of boulders left eons ago by retreating glaciers. The obstruction was only twelve feet high or so but trailed along for hundreds of feet in a snake like fashion. She didn't want to detour around it so Jenny jumped over it with feet to spare.

She passed through the area the herd had been grazing in and tried to get her bearings. The fleeing animals were in sight. She spotted the rack she had singled out and directed herself in that direction.

Now she poured on the speed.

Jenny over-did it. The buck was young and healthy and strong but Jenny Stram was now just a completely different class of animal. The deer's powerful, leaping run would have left a wolf behind with ease but Jenny came up on her prey so quickly it actually took her by surprise. She lost sight of him for a moment behind a small drift. When she burst through it, he was right there. The animal turned in terror and the woman went hurdling by, powerless to do anything but streak past.

Jenny dug in her feet trying to stop or turn. Predictably, her body over balanced and she went down face first.

Angry at herself, Jenny reacted quickly. Instead of letting herself tumble, she crouched down to all-fours and attempted to dig in. Her hands clawed furrows in the frozen earth. Her momentum slowed quickly. The moment she came to a stop, she exploded upward again.

The buck had turned away and was fleeing in a new direction. Careful to keep her speed in check, Jenny pursued him, gaining steadily. The poor beast attempted to turn and dodge but Jenny was under control now. Each time she planted a foot she was able to thrust in any direction she needed.

It took a full five minutes for the girl to run him down in this careful manner. But, when she had drawn to within thirty feet or so of her prey, he turned again and Jenny took her opportunity. She planted both feet and leapt to intercept him, arching high into the air and coming down more or less on top of him.

The buck was big, probably weighing about the same as Jenny. The two of them went down hard, the deer's legs collapsing under the impact. It bleated in terror.

Jenny's body was laid crossways across the buck, her chest across his back and her knees digging into the snow. As he began to struggle, she grabbed it by the antlers. Jenny got her feet under herself and set them squarely. Setting her mouth grimly, she heaved and twisted.

Jenny put all her strength into the maneuver. As a consequence, the buck's entire body was whipped into the air, swinging high over head. Jenny twisted again mid-swing and slammed the body back into the snow.

The buck's neck was very thoroughly broken, its head twisted nearly 360 degrees.

A little shaken by her own violent action, Jenny suddenly very much wanted to be back at home with her baby. The chase had been exhilarating and while it had not tired her much, it had taken something emotional out of her.

She slit the buck's neck deeply. She would let it drain on the journey back. She would end up covered in blood but it would wash off. The cold dip in the stream that was in her future would be suitable penance for what she had done.

She slung the beast across her shoulders. Its weight was negligible for her. She entwined one arm through its antlers and used them to hold its head tightly to her shoulder. Its protruding tongue hung near her breast in a mildly disturbing manner but Jenny wouldn't let herself think about it. Her other hand gripped its hind legs near the hooves and held that end down tightly to her body.

She wouldn't go over the ridge this time. A detour of some ten miles... five out to the edge of the ridge and then five back up through Ironcleft... should take her about half an hour at what she considered an easy lope.

Jenny covered ground quickly, the deer's body held tightly across her shoulders to minimize imbalance. It was some forty minutes later that she came upon the first of the rabbits she had left behind earlier. From there she retraced her steps, picking up the rest of the day's haul as she went.

By the time she returned home it was a little after noon. She was anxious to check on Stanley but was covered in blood and needed to wash off. Conflicted, she decided to just roll around in some fresh snow to get the worst of the gore off. She did so and it worked to an extent. She stood in front of the cabin's door for a moment, collecting her thoughts. Steam was rising from her body as red and pink and white show melted quickly.

She just stepped inside for a moment to stoke the fire and look to see that her son was where she had left him and still breathing. Then she went down to the stream.

She stepped into the frigid water, breaking through the thin film of ice. The cold absolutely stung. She waded in deeper, breaking up more of the delicate ice as she did.

The stream was not deep and it only came up to her navel at its center. She plunged herself under, running her hands through her ragged hair and staying under until her lungs burned and her head throbbed from the cold.

She surfaced, staying low so that the water lapped along her neck. Underneath, she scrubbed her body with her hands, washing away the grime.

Jenny purposely stayed in the stream until her extremities were numb and her teeth began to chatter. When she immerged from the stream, she was clean and very very cold. She had brought nothing to dry herself with and the cabin would only be moderately warm. But she had already set her mind on a better way to dry and warm herself.

Jenny ran. She set off on a quick ten mile circuit in a wide circle around her cabin. Needing the warmth of exertion, Jenny pushed herself and managed the distance in a little under twenty minutes. When she was done she was dry, clean and breathing naturally. She was also warm. Over the course of her expedition, her breasts had been producing milk and she now felt the pressure there. She would feed her son and then dress the animals....

Shit, she'd probably need another bath after that.







For the rest of the winter, Jenny split her time between caring for her baby, hunting and collecting firewood. She needed to minimize her time away from Stanley and she turned her outdoor activities into a challenge for herself. Every couple days she ran a fast circuit of the valley, hunting on the run. She could cover a twenty-mile loop in well under an hour.

About once a week, she visited the stand of trees about half a mile from the cabin. Not wanting to spend hours away from home chopping and hauling wood, she would quickly chop down a large tree. She'd select a hefty specimen of about two feet in diameter. Of course, not even Jenny Stram was able to cut through a tree with a single blow. She used a barrage of fast, powerful strokes to bring a tree down in under a minute. She'd attack the fallen tree with a hatchet in each hand, stripping its branches in a flurry of flying wood.

The next step was something she couldn't do without winter's white blanket. She looped a rope around the enormous log and shouldered the other end. The tree would usually weight four or five thousand pounds. Across fields covered in snow, she could haul the enormous load without difficulty. In warmer months, every hillock and furrow would be a miniature wall she'd have to get the load over. Jenny was strong enough to force the log through eventually but the snow made the job easy.

Once she got the log to the yard in front of the cabin, she could chop it into firewood within earshot of her boy.

That winter surrendered slowly. As green shoots finally began showing through the white, Jenny tried to plan out her future. She thought about cultivating some of the fields in the area but decided she could continue living off the struggling, half-wild crops for another year or two.

Around the time spring got a firm grip on the valley, Stanley began to teethe. For a variety of reasons, this is an unpleasant time in a baby's development. It is an irritation for the child and mother both since the little suckers had a tendency to bite the teat that feeds them. But it had an additional effect on Jennifer.

For the first time since leaving the Weak Lands, Jenny was feeling sexually aroused. As she fed her growing son she would often find herself teasing her furry beaver. Each tug and nip at her tit seemed to pull at something delightful in her core. Her mind turned once again to thoughts of men and fertility.

She had always felt that one child would only be the start of her brood. Now she was becoming eager to start the process again.

It was nearly summer before her libido forced her to make a decision. She would have to leave the valley for a time to find men to impregnate her. Stanley would have to go with her. The boy was strong and healthy but still less than a year old. He was eating a little corn mush now along with his mother's milk.

She disliked the idea of feeding her son Weak Land food and water but saw no choice. She did not want to burden herself with a large pack.

Jennifer's attempts to plan her sexual excursion led her to realize that she would have nothing to trade and no way to make money. So, ever practical, she decided well ahead of time what she would simply steal whatever she needed.

Before leaving the Weak Lands, Jennifer's clothing had been on the tight and short side. She'd been living on the periphery of society for several years with little need to dress well and had grown substantially during that time. She'd had worn nothing other than her rabbit-skin coat, if that, since returning to Ironcleft and had filled out quite a bit during that time. She had only added an inch to her height but her shoulders and hips had broadened considerably and her chest had filled out quite a bit (though it seemed she would never be buxom).

One dress she tore to shreds just trying to pull it on. Another ripped across the back the first time she bent over. Those had been the largest of her handful of dresses. She effectively had no clothing. Jenny also realized that anything she might be able to steal from some homesteader would be far too small for her. Perhaps men's clothing would work but she hated to think of herself as remotely masculine. She saw herself as motherly and sexy despite the rough and simple life she chose.

Jenny didn't really care how many people saw her naked body but she didn't want to be lynched... or to have to hurt anyone that tried to lynch her. She couldn't just wander into a village and strike up a conversation while naked. She had enough trouble talking to people under the best circumstances.

She thought about finding a remote farm somewhere and asking the lady of the house to help her piece together some clothing but it felt like too much of a bother. She didn't really want clothes and felt niggling resentment that such a thing was expected.

Well, all she was really interested in was spending a few weeks among a number of men so that she could become pregnant again. You didn't need villages full of families and judgmental busybodies to get that. There were logging camps and small mining operations scattered all over the place and they were usually peopled exclusively by men.

So it was simple. She would seek out these places and just present herself to be serviced. From experience, she knew that fewer than one man in ten would be inclined to refuse such an offer.

Jenny did take some time to carefully trim all her nails and do something about her ragged hair before leaving her home to hunt semen. She packed a few days worth of dried meat and bread, tied Stanley into his papoose across her chest and stomach and headed out of the valley.

The young woman desperately wanted to run but feared jostling Stanley so much. She was proud of her son and was certain that he shared her strength and resilience... but he was only about nine months old and it was hard to tell how careful she had to be with him. He had fallen from the bed a number of times and twice she had woken up to find that he had been trapped beneath her hard, dense body. He had suffered no injury nor displayed much distress in any of these cases.

Once Jenny rolled over onto him while sleeping and had apparently cut off his air supply. That time he struggled so powerfully that she had woken immediately.

But none of that necessarily meant he could take hours of being pounded against her body as she loped across the landscape.

It took her a full day to exit the valley; the pace felt torturously slow. Once out of the valley, Jenny headed in the opposite direction of the people she knew. She had no desire to see anyone from her old life.

She fed Stanley and herself on the march and never stopped before the sun was down. She was moving again by dawn each morning. She son would fuss on occasion and she would sometimes carry him in her arms out in the open so that he could see the world passing by but for the most part, he seemed unconcerned by the journey.

It was an aggravating three full days before she spotted the thin trail of smoke that always meant humans were about. She approached the site carefully and found it to be a lone homestead. She considered it for several minutes while Stanley suckled from her left breast. His sucking action and the prospect of male companionship set her loins to throbbing but the girl reluctantly passed the farm by. Some ugly scene was far too likely if she showed up in a woman's home like this.

To say that Jennifer was socially awkward is an understatement. She wasn't terribly bright either and there was a lot about the world and people that she didn't know. But she had gleaned one lesson from her time acting as a whore; groups of men isolated from "proper civilization" acted a lot differently than a man alone or groups of men in socially accepted venues. Or to put it another way, men were more likely to "misbehave" as a group... as long as no judgmental types (women for the most part) were in attendance.

So, the girl was pretty confident that if she could find a group of guys out on their own somewhere, there wouldn't be any ugly scenes nor a need for much talk. She'd let them know what she wanted and they'd line up to give it to her.

And that's pretty much how it went. She found a logging party near the end of the day. It was made up of eight men from a number of different places that had pooled their labor for a few days to bring in some lumber. There were no women there. The youngest guy was probably thirteen.

The men were widely scattered performing a wide variety of tasks but all were within earshot of the exclamations made by the first few to see her come walking into camp.

Jennifer entered that camp with Stanley on her hip. She let her dark hair drape across her chest but her breasts protruded between the strands. At the moment they were softer than usual because her son had just finished draining them. That had also once again ignited Jennifer's urges. She stood in the middle of a beaten-earth clearing as the men approached. Her wide stance did nothing to conceal the pelt at her groin or the glimmer of pink peering out from under it.

The men were literally slack-jawed. One began laughing nervously while another called out loudly "Well would you look at that!"

The men gathered but not closely for the moment. Their hot gazes couldn't help but sweep up and down her body and those gazes in turn warmed her womanly fires. "Hello fell'as. Guess what I want?"

Jennifer was momentarily surprised at her own voice. It was deep and rough. It actually sounded kind of alluring but she abruptly realized that she had not spoken for nearly a year. Aside from some rare muttering from his mother, Stanley had never heard human speech. As the men began to grin and joke she pledged to herself that she would begin speaking to her child on a regular basis so that it could learn.

But there would be time for that later.

Trying to act alluring and confident, she raised a single finger to the men now crowding around her, bidding them to stay and wait. The young woman took her son over to an out-of-the-way area under a tree and situated him on top of his papoose. She left her small pack with him and then sauntered back towards the watching men. She pulled her hair back behind her neck. Not an inch of skin was hidden from their view.

Jennifer singled out the largest man there. He may have been as old as forty, hale but weathered. He was thick-chested and balding with strong-looking hands and a rough beard of several days' growth. It was dark but lightly peppered with silver. Actually, that would be salted, wouldn't it?

He was the biggest guy there but was still two inches shorter than Jenny. He was broader across the shoulders and his barrel chest was impressive. He looked like he probably out-weighed her trim form by quite a bit. In reality, her dense structure made up for his greater bulk.

Several of the men's gazes became a little queer as her size registered on them. Who exactly was the naked, golden-brown goddess?

She decided at that point that if anyone asked her age, she'd tell them she was twenty or something. Who knew how they'd react if she told them she was barely fourteen. It occurred to her that she had no idea what the date was. Was it July yet?

Jenny smiled and caressed the big guy's shoulder. "My name is Jenny."

He swallowed twice before responding. "I'm Sam. Uh... pleasure to meet you Jenny."

Jenny grinned, trying desperately to be personable and sexy. "Oh, I think it will be." She let her eyes scan the faces around her. Her caressing hand took Sam's and guided it to cup her soft mammary. "I hope to pleasure you all."

She asked for a comfortable place to lie down and casually asked Sam to join her. There were a lot of nervous laughs and blushing going on among the spectators but the woman persuaded Sam out of his cloths in a few brief minutes. His cock was big and hard and exactly what Jennifer needed.

She bit her lip and looked a little nervous as she began to mount him. The spectators mistook this expression for hesitancy. What Jenny was really doing was telling herself over and over again to be gentle and fighting against her urge to ravage the man.

It would be so easy to severely injure the poor guy.

Sam didn't last long. Jennifer's hungry slit was incredibly tight and wet. He just stared at her bouncing breasts as she rode up on down his shaft. Within minutes, he grunted and moaned as he pumped his seed into her body.

The sensation of his seed flushing warmly into her womb triggered Jennifer's orgasm. She squealed and ground herself down on his pumping shaft. Sam's eye's nearly popped out of his head when her climaxing pussy clamped down on his dick.

When she had milked him dry, Jenny stood and looked at the men gather around them. Her nipples were hard and swayed joyously as she bounced around with excitement. "Who's next?" she asked, stroking a finger through her plainly visible pussy lips.

Several of the men raced to unlace their pants. Laughing, Jenny rewarded the winner by wrapping a large hand around his hard member and kissing him deeply. She let the man, who was in his mid twenties, lay her down on her side and slip his cock into her from behind. His member was smaller than Sam's and he shot off even quicker. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of his jizz filling her. She didn't cum again but she knew she would soon with the next fellow or maybe the guy after that.

Jenny fucked each man in rapid succession, allowing them to position her as they wished. Several just pumped into her in the traditional missionary position but others wanted something else. A thirty year old man with a cock that was even bigger than Sam's bent her over a log. He rammed his hips into her as hard as he could and clawed at her breasts. Jennifer loved it, yelling loudly for more. She came hard just before he burst inside her. Her thighs had stripped the bark form the log but remained unblemished.

He paid for making it good for her with a severely bruised cock.

The thirteen year old kid had watched it all from the periphery. After she had drained each man once, she looked for and found the boy. Beckoning to him, she lay back and spread her legs. The boy eagerly pulled off his britches and knelt between her steepled legs.

The boy's little cock was a bit over four inches long and thin. Jenny still felt tight and hot to him. He sank into her once up to the balls and shuddered, spilling his seed. Jenny pulled his body down to hers and laid his head against her breasts. She held one hand under his buttocks and kept his groin pressed to hers. Her hot cunt massaged his pink little rod. She could feel his heartbeat through his throbbing organ.

"Come on honey, give me another." She said. He stayed hard. Soon, the boy was humping into her by reflex. He was trembling with desire. "What's your name, little man?"

"Colt" he said, his voice squeaking.

She whispered into his ear but not so quietly that the other's couldn't hear, "Your dick feels wonderful, Colt. Do you know why men and women do this?"

Colt nodded, licking his lips. "It's how you make a baby."

Jenny kissed the crown of his head. "That's right honey. I want a baby and you need to plant your seed in me to make it happen. Come on little man, give me more of your seed." She paused and then whispered very quietly just to him. "Fuck me."

Colt's hips were a blur as he sawed into her. In two minutes flat, he shuddered again, groaning. "Oh, thank you baby. I feel your seed in me. It's wonderful."

Colt stayed on top of her and inside her for several more minutes, panting heavily and thanking her profusely. When he finally staggered away, Jenny remained on her back and spread her legs wide. "Well gentleman, the young man is now one round ahead of you all. Who's ready to play catch-up?"

And so it continued through the day and into the night as Jenny fucked every man there three or four times. She gauged the passage of time by the swelling of her breasts and around sundown called a break so that she could feed Stanley. The men wandered away to straightened up the work they had dropped hours earlier when the sex goddess appeared in their midst.

After nursing her son and eating some of the camp's thick stew, Jenny appropriated a tent and announced that she would be available to all comers all night long. She slept in short naps whenever no one was busy fucking her and by morning, none of the men could achieve erection. She suggested they carry on with their work. She would stay for a day or two and as they recovered, she would continue to service the loggers.

During the course of the day, three more men showed up having been busy elsewhere. Jenny was happy to expand her harem.

While waiting for the men to recover, Jenny wandered the camp, usually with Stanley in her arms. She sometimes had to grit her teeth and force herself to resist offering to help them in their labors. She watched as six men struggled to mount a large log over the saw pit. Jennifer could tell at a glance that she would have been able lift and position the log with no trouble at all. True, it was an awkward kind of load but she had learned the tricks of balance and leverage needed to handle that kind of thing when she was eleven years old.

Hell, if she could figure out a good way to stack them, she could carry three logs that size. She'd had that much wood stacked in her old carrying rig practically every day.

On the second night, Jenny got quite a bit of sleep. Few of the men had been able to rise to the occasion. They had each fucked her between four and a dozen times. So that morning, she slipped quietly out of camp with Stanley without saying goodbye.

Jenny had been drinking Weak Land water for several days and eating mostly their food. She felt the absence of Ironcleft's essence and it made her jumpy with cravings. When the time came to decide whether to turn towards home or to carry on looking for another opportunity to mate, the call of the valley won out.

In the afternoon of the day she departed the logging camp, she did happen upon a lone man hunting. Without exchanging a word, Jenny set her son aside and pulled the man down on top of here in the grass where they stood. Impatient with his fumbling, she gripped his trousers in her strong hands and ripped them apart. His cock was only about five inches long and barely of average girth but two days of frequent sex had done nothing to loosed Jenny tight snatch. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled his body into hers. She milked him in about thirty seconds. Then she gathered up her things and left him gasping in the field.






It began to rain that night. Jenny's only shelter was a tree. She spent the night leaning against the trunk, huddled around her child.

Before dawn was truly begun, she was so cold she simply had to get up and move around. It took several hours for her slow pace to begin to warm her body. It was still raining. Water was beginning to fill every wash and stream.

It was still well before noon and Jenny's body was just beginning to warm when something made her pause. It took her a moment to identify what was wrong. She had heard something; a faint cry of some kind. She couldn't identify it but it seemed to be coming from the small river a few hundred yards west of her. She turned to investigate.

The cries resolved themselves into a woman's pleas for help and the sobbing of small children. Immerging from the thick growth along the bank, Jenny looked out across the river. It was swollen with runoff and coursing along high in its banks. It was over forty feet across and appeared deep. She cast her gaze upstream and identified the source of the pleas.

The first thing to catch her eyes was the half-wrecked form of a wagon partially submerged in the rushing water and pressed against a large boulder. A body was visible trapped between the cart and the rock.

The woman calling for help was kneeling on another boulder a little ways downstream from where the wagon pinned a victim. She was soaking wet and there was blood on her face from a scalp wound. In her arms was a bundle she held fiercely to her chest.

More sounds drew Jenny's eyes back to the wagon. She hadn't seen it before but a blond-haired head could be seen of the far side f the wagon. There appeared to be a small child clinging to the wagon's submerged bed.

Quickly, Jenny found a safe spot for her son well away from the river and then raced along its bank, passing the woman who just then spotted her and began screaming hysterically for help. The powerful, naked woman studied the situation.

Jenny could not swim at all. Of course, with the river's current as it was, swimming would have been pretty much useless anyway. She eyed the river. She figured if she absolutely had to and was without burden, she could leap its forty feet given a running start but that wasn't going to do any good. If she tried to jump out to the wagon or the boulder it had caught itself on... well, there wasn't much chance she could land safely on the boulder and she was likely to wrench the wagon free and send them all tumbling downstream if she tried to land on it.

She now saw that there were actually two children clinging to the wagon bed and that the pinned victim was a man, probably their father. He appeared to be unconscious.

Jenny looked around desperately for inspiration. There were trees lining the bank here. One specimen had a trunk of a bit under two feet across and was slanted slightly out over the water. It was tall enough to span the river if it was felled.

But Jenny hadn't brought any of her logging tools.

The woman was begging Jenny to go for help. Jenny considered doing so but she had no idea where she was likely to find anyone. It could literally take all day to find help. Jenny Stram felt a mantle of determination settle over her. The situation might be hopeless for anyone else but not for her.

She strode over to the tree she had identified. It was well positioned just a little ways upstream from the stranded wagon. She studied it for a moment and then positioned herself in-land from it. She braced her right shoulder against the trunk and wrapped her arms around it, locking her hands together. Kicking and scuffing at the earth, she set her feet securely.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then she heaved with all her might.

Bark splintered in her grasp and the tree's crown swayed. Jenny's back protested. She let her breath gasp out and released the tree. She shook bark from her hands and brushed it off her shoulder. She slapped at the trunk several times to dislodge more of the tree's rough skin. The girl put her shoulder to the tree again and embraced it. She took a second to visualize the children being swept downstream to drown and then heaved at the tree again.

The earth moved beneath her feet. Jenny realized that she was actually standing on the tree's roots. She tried to think her way through the problem but no alternatives came to mind. She must either snap the tree's trunk or force her feet to break through the roots beneath her so that she could uproot it.

Or she could fail.

Jenny re-set her feet. She crouched down a little lower and dug her shoulder in. She took three deep but quick breaths through her mouth and then surged her body's power against the tree.

The sound of tearing and cracking reverberated from the ground. The packed soil shifted beneath her feet. A red haze filled Jenny's world as she strained against the tree. The young woman's physical size was unusual but her immense strength was not usually immediately evident. Her frame was solid but did not swell with muscle.

Now, tested as they never had been before, her muscles tightened and bulged. Granite-hard masses of raw power swelled across every part of her straining body. Her smooth sleekness disappeared beneath a relief-map of straining effort.

Every cell in Jenny Stram's body burned. She refused to give up. The tree had moved. She knew from the grinding movement beneath her that she had damaged the tree's anchor. Huffing, she paused for a split second to re-seat her shoulder and then surged against the stubborn trunk again.

With a series of cracks and a cascade of dirt, the roots began to rise out of the earth and the tree slowly toppled over. All around Jenny, root and loam lifted from the ground. 

Jenny danced away in relief, panting and eyes wide. The tree seemed to fall in slow motion, slowly bowing to meet the river. Its top dozen feet crashed to the far bank. The small mountain of dirt and tendrils at its base bucked ten feet in the air as the beast rebounded.

Jenny couldn't believe she had done it.

She nearly collapsed taking the first step towards the fallen tree as her right leg cramped up painfully. She gritted her teeth and hobbled to the bank but then had to stop and try to massage her strained thigh muscle back into working order. Her back ached and her shoulder was tender and would probably show an ugly bruise later. It is impossible to know how many thousand pounds of force she had just subjected her body and the tree to.

In a minute or so her leg transitioned from a knotted ball of pain to a deep soreness that she could ignore if she had to. Jenny stepped up onto her newly made bridge and crept out over the river. Her bare feet made solid contact with the damp bark giving her secure footing. She stepped around a few branches, using them as hand holds. As she got closer to the wagon, the branches became more numerous and were getting in the way.

She bent, grabbing one large branch with one hand and braced her other three limbs against the trunk. She wrenched at the branch, snapping it and tearing it away from the tree. The makeshift bridge bounced and swayed with the jerking forces. She did this four more times as she got closer to the wagon, clearing a path.

The children were watching her with wide eyes. It was only at that point that it occurred to Jenny how she must look; a large naked woman that had just ripped a good sized tree out of the ground and was now clawing her way towards them. She hoped the kids wouldn't be too frightened to help her save them.

When she drew even with the wagon, she examined the situation. There were about eight feet between the trunk and the bed of the cart. Numerous branches stretched between the two. Jenny saw that she had been very lucky that no large branches had impacted the stranded cart.

Jennifer jumped lightly across to the wagon, splashing down into the sharply angled bed as lightly as she could.

The children were a boy of perhaps six and his little sister who was no older than four. The boy had pressed his sister high into a dry corner and was clinging to the wagon around her. "Come here little ones, let's get you out of here." Jenny said.

The boy had cried himself dry. His lips were blue and his teeth chattered. "Our daddy's under the wagon. He's asleep and won't wake up."

"I know dear. I'll help him soon but he'd want me to make sure you are safe." Jennifer sidled closer to the children, stepping carefully along the cart's submerged structure. She extended her free arm in a welcoming gesture. "Bring your sister over here and I'll take you to shore."

The boy griped his sister's upper arm and pushed off towards Jennifer. They dipped beneath the churning surface of the water. Jenny snatched at his shirt and caught them. Gently and awkwardly, she worked both the children in towards her body. She managed to get her arm under both of their arms and hug them like a single bundle. The boy put his arms around her neck. The whimpering, shivering little girl was jammed against Jenny's shoulder with nothing to hold onto. Her little hands scratched and grasped at Jenny's tit looking for a hand-hold.

Jenny had to concentrate to keep herself from crushing the children. She also was fighting for balance against the current and the sloping surfaces of the wagon. Gathering her legs beneath her, she jumped lightly back towards the fallen tree. Her feet landed squarely and her free hand steadied her on one of the remaining branches. "See," she said. "No problem."

Jenny moved quickly back toward the bank with her burden. Once on dry land (if the soggy bank could be called such) she paused to examine the children for injuries. Aside from being extremely cold, they seemed fine. The boy couldn't take his eyes off the wreckage of the wagon. "Why is daddy still sleeping?"

Jenny didn't want to think about it and she wanted the children thinking about it even less. "I don't know, we'll find out soon. But look over there. Is that your mommy?" she asked, pointing downstream at the woman crouching on her rock.

The girl finally spoke. "Mommy!"

Jenny carried the children to the place she'd left Stanley. She was realizing more and more how extremely foolish she had been to bring no blankets or anything. The baby seemed content in his papoose for now but Jenny was feeling guilty. 

She told the children to stay with her baby while she went to get their mommy. Both children collapsed to the earth without protest, exhausted by their ordeal.

Jenny trotted back to the bank, her leg finally beginning to loosen from its cramp. There were no handy trees in the vicinity of the mother. Her rock was a bit closer to the bank being only about fifteen feet out. There was no room on the rock however as the woman occupied its entire small surface.

Seeing no better alternative, Jenny aimed for open water a few feet upstream from the rock and jumped. She plunged to the bottom of the rushing river while being grabbed by the powerful embrace of the current. Before she knew what was happening, her hip and then her shoulder hit the rock hard. The current's path drug her around the rock, her arms twisting to find a grip but failing. The river carried her downstream.

Jennifer bounced along the rocky bottom of the stream. She was completely disoriented. She couldn't figure out which way was up for long enough to do anything about it. For a long minute she remained under water, lungs burning and her body being beaten against the streambed and carried away from her child and the family in distress.

Then her body slammed into a large boulder stomach-first. For a moment the current pressed her there and she had the presence of mind to wrap herself around the obstruction and hang on.

The boulder she had hit was completely submerged. She managed to work out which was up. She braced her legs against the rock's upstream edge and tried to raise her head above water. She just managed to break the surface, gulping in air between waves. She thought she saw more rocks sticking out of the water a little farther along. She tried to raise herself up higher for a better look and lost her purchase. The river swept her away again.

Her underwater journey was much quicker this time. The last thing she had done as she lost her footing was to make sure she faced her body downstream. She kept her arms out in front of her as if to catch herself in a fall. She tried to keep her feet under her, bouncing herself along the bottom.

She couldn't see anything and when her hands crashed into another obstruction, she was unable to prevent the rest of her body from doing the same thing. The impact forced her to take a breath and water filled her lungs. The impact would have shattered the arms and chest of anyone else.

She tried to wrap her arms around the rock she had hit. Something was wrong with one of her hands. It was like some kind of nightmare. But Jenny Stram hauled herself out of the stream and onto the boulder. She spent several minutes hacking up water. Her left hand was throbbing. She stared at it. It had taken the brunt of the impact, first slamming into the boulder and then being smashed by the rest of her careening body. Already her ring finger was swelling and her pinky was the wrong shape. Dully he realized that those fingers were broken.

Kneeling on her rock, Jenny tried to get her bearings. She looked upstream and could see the woman and the wagon. She was surprised at how close they were... she felt like she had been dragged along the river bottom for miles.

Her rock was only about ten feet from the bank. Dragging herself to her feet, she jumped to the shore and began walking back up stream. Her hand hurt. She tried moving her broken fingers and that hurt a lot more. Grimly, she tried to straighten her pinky. Heat flashed across her face and she felt faint. My god that hurt.

Jenny Stram was now angry at the river. She never let anything get the best of her. When she reached her original jumping-off point, she didn't pause for even a second. She took two running steps and jumped back into the water in the same place she had before.

She kept her injured hand held close across her chest and angled her body to first strike the rock with that shoulder. As she hit, her good hand snapped around and gripped the stone, her finger's finding purchase on its rough texture. She used that iron grip to hold herself steady against the current while her toes found similar holds and she climbed out of the water.

She was eye to eye with the woman. She seemed to be in shock now as her gaze was glassy and she didn't speak. Jenny spared a glance for the bundle she still held. Presumably there was a baby in there but it was not visible beneath the swaddling. Trying to sound friendly, Jenny said "Don't worry, I'll get you out of here."

There was little room on the boulder. Jenny got one foot up onto it and then lifted the woman carefully onto her shoulder. Jenny rose and got her feet under her and shifted the woman into a comfortable two-armed carry with her bundle resting safely atop her. She faced the bank and flexed her knees. "Here we go" she said. Putting as much spring as she could into her arms, she jumped out over the stream. She landed high on the bank, trying to absorb the landing with her legs.

Jenny moved to put the woman on her feet. She wobbled horribly. Jenny lifted her back up and carried her to where the children were bundled together. As Jenny lay her down there the woman finally found her voice. "Is my husband...?"

Jenny grimaced. "I don't know yet. I'm about to find out."

The woman seemed to slowly be regaining her thoughts. "You've hurt your hand." She said.

Jenny just nodded. "Yes. We'll worry about it later." And then went back to the fallen tree.

Jenny quickly made it to the wagon and then climbed over it to crouch down on the large boulder it had come up against.

The man didn't look very old, probably not yet thirty. A nasty gash on his head had bled heavily but was now scabbed over. Jenny bent closely but the sounds of the river made it impossible to tell if he was breathing.

The girl studied the situation. While the wagon was pressed tightly against the man's trapped body, most of the actual weight seemed to be supported by the axels and frame so that he was held in place without being crushed. Unless of course he was crushed, Jenny just didn't know yet.

Jenny lay on her belly and pulled on the back of the guy's shirt. Then she saw that he was wearing suspenders. She felt behind his body and found them. She gather them both up into her grip and attempted to lift his body. Even laying prone with one extended arm, Jenny should have no trouble lifting the man's weight. He body shifted but the rock and the wagon held him in place. If she tried to force it, she would probably kill him and certainly injure him seriously.

Standing again, she thought for a few moments and then straddled her legs between the boulder and the wagon. She found good footing on the rock side and braced her other foot against the edge of the wagon. Her back reminded her of how unhappy it was when she bent down low to grab the man's suspenders again. He was well below the level her feet were at now and the reach was awkward to say the least. If he had been conscious, he would have been treated to the sight of Jen's straining thighs framing a vagina that was soaking wet and pulled open wide.

He probably would not have actually been aroused given the situation.

She would have liked to use both hands to help control things but her injured hand just refused to provide a decent hold. The pain was bad enough but it also masked any other feeling and she just couldn't trust that hand's grip.

She finally got both belts of the suspenders in her good right hand. Now to open things up.

Jenny began pushing against the cart. The thick tendons in her thighs tightened. Jenny heaved with her legs, trying to open the gap so she could lift the man out.

The weight of the wagon alone would have been no challenge but the force of the current pressing against it was another story. It took her four tries, each time she tried to set her leverage at a different angle. She considered the other method of putting her feet on the rock and her hands on the wagon... she could exert a lot more force that way but wouldn't be able to hold on to the man.

On the fourth try she set herself low, allowing the knees to bend a bit. Then she actually lifted her foot off the wagon for a moment. She came back down on it hard, slamming into it and pressing with all her might.

The wagon shuddered at the first impact and then moved inexorably. It only took about two inches of travel before the man's body began to slide down farther into the gap. Jenny jerked him out using the power of her arm to lift him clear and above her head while maintain pressure with her legs.

She swept her left arm under his body and held him against her chest. He was of medium height and built. She let the wagon push her back and swung her foot down to the boulder. The wagon settled back into place, apparently to right where it had started.

Jenny had misjudged slightly and was off balance. There was little room on the boulder to help her. As she began to fall forward, she hopped up onto the edge of the wagon. Balancing there would be an impossible but she had enough time to gather herself again and jump the ten feet or so to the fallen tree. She aimed for a cluster of branches. She landed squarely with her feet on the trunk and let herself fall forward softly into the branches there. She rebounded and found her balance long enough the shift the man to one shoulder, freeing her right hand. This put her injured left hand on the man's back but it was suitable for just keeping him in place.

Now able to grab branches to steady herself, Jenny made it to shore quickly.

Jenny was faintly surprised to find the woman waiting for her on the bank near the fallen tree. Jenny lowered the man from her shoulder and gently laid him out on the wet grass. Without a word, the woman bend over him, listening for his breath. "He's alive!" she said, her voice rough with suppressed sobs. "Oh thank the Father, he's alive."

The woman took her husband's head in her hands and tried to revive him. Jenny went to check on Stanley. He was asleep in the papoose. The young girl was asleep as well, her head nestled in her brother's lap. His eyes were wide and he shivered with cold. "Did my daddy wake up?" he asked.

Jennifer picked up her son and looked down at his sleeping face. His soft, round features showed nothing of the strength she knew was within. Something about the day's events had brought home to her the meaning of family.

"No, he is still asleep I think. He may be badly hurt. I do not know. Your mother is with him." The boy was silent in response. He was experiencing several kinds of shock but Jenny had no idea how to help him.

She stood in silence over the brother and sister with Stanley in her arms and rain cascading over them for many long minutes. She turned when she heard the woman approach.

"My name is Agnes. Agnes Wilson." She said.

"I am Jenny."

Agnes was starring at her with many confused emotions pent up behind her fatigued face. Where did one even start? Concern about her husband, shock at the appearance of the naked woman and wonder at what she had done... it was just all too much to take in. Survival instinct asserted itself and she settled on practical questions. "Thank you for your help. My husband has not woken and the children are freezing. Do you have any blankets? Or clothing? Or food?"

Jenny both shook her hean and shrugged. She bent down for her small pack as she answered. "I have only a little food." She set her son aside and presented some pieces of hard bred to the boy and his mother.

Agnes took the bread but only held it in frong of her in uncertainty. "We lost everything. Our entire lives were in the wagon and it's all washed away."

Jenny cast her gaze down-stream. "Perhaps we can find some of it." She suggested. Before the woman could respond, Jenny asked her, "Will you look after my baby for a bit?"

Brought up short, the piece of bread still clutched before her, Mrs. Wilson nodded blankly.

Holding her injured hand against her side, Jenny loped away down the bank, eyes scanning the river. She paid special attention to the rocks where debris might catch and collect.

It felt good to be moving, driving the chill from her body. She was just out of sight of the stranded wagon when she came upon a burlap sack wedged amongst some boulders. She recovered it and left it on the bank as she continued downstream. She found one small crate soon after. Following that she found nothing more. She must have covered two miles at a bounding jog but there was no other sign of the family's goods.

She moved more quickly returning upstream, scooping up the crate and sack as she went. Agnes had moved all the children near her husband. She was breast-feeding her youngest while her oldest sat with his father's hand in his. The daughter was gnawing on a piece of bread, leaning in against her mother.

Stanley rested against her hip and gazed about with newly wakened eyes.

"This was all I could find." Jenny declared as she dropped down amongst the little group. Without waiting for permission, she untied the sack to discover its contents. It held a motley collection of clothing and a few small blankets. Everything was soaked, wadded mess. Jenny places the bag in front of Agnes and moved on to the crate. This time she did pause and gave the other woman a questioning look. "I think that's a cook pot and some plates." She said.

Jenny's hard fingers pried the nailed lid off. Indeed, within the crate sat an iron pot and inside that were wads of straw and some clay plates. Jenny set the crate in front of her. Her attention was drawn to her injured hand.

Two fingers were badly swollen, the pinky still visibly misshapen. She had not been unaware of the pain but seeing her hand now gave it new urgency. She tried to spread her finger's out across the crate's lid. She had to grit her teeth against the pain.

Agnes covered her bosom and told her son to sit with the baby. "Let me see if I can help you with that." She said. She shook out the contents of the sack and found her apron. "Do you have a knife?" she asked.

Jenny nudged her pack towards the woman. Her knife and sheath hung from its strap. Agnes took it and cut away one of the apron's ties. "I think if you sit with the board in your lap and spread your hand out across it as best you can, I can give it a good look."

Jenny did as instructed. Her mangled hand protested mightily.

Agnes looked it over closely. "It looks like your middle finger is fine." She said. She probed it while looking up at Jenny.

"Yes. It doesn't hurt."

"We need to splint these other two. Wait here." She went off to find suitable sticks. As she returned, Jenny watched her as she paused near the bank, staring at the wrecked wagon in the middle of the river. She crossed herself... if she said anything, Jenny could not hear.

Agnes sat back down in front of Jennifer. "We need to straighten the small finger. It will hurt a great deal." Jenny just nodded.

Agnes had set bones before. She had been taught that gentle prodding was simply no good; a badly broken bone must be set with abrupt force and determination.

Jennifer's hands were as large as any man's and her fingers long. Agnes wrapped her hand around the entire pinky and without warning, yanked on it.

The crate lid caved in with a snap as Jenny tensed up, fighting the pain. Agnes froze. She had almost allowed herself to forget this strange woman's strength. Seeing that no further violent movements were forthcoming, she released the finger and examined it.

It looked much better... badly swollen but without the disturbing angle. She moved to place sticks along the two fingers as splints. "This should hurt a little less." She said, trying to smile. She lashed the two injured fingers and their splints together with the apron strap.

As she finished, Agnes forced herself to look Jennifer in the eyes. "It was very kind of you to help us. And very brave."

Jennifer pulled her hand back and lowered her head. "What kind of monster would turn away from people in need?" she asked. Then she mumbled, "I'm not a monster."

"No, I can see that." Agnes replied. Then for the first time she let herself get a good luck at the strange woman. There were no obvious signs of the phenomenal strength and resilience she had displayed but there was something very different about her. Her coloring was odd and she was so tall.

And of course she had been out marching through the remote countryside with a young baby and not a stitch of clothing.

"Jennifer, no one could possibly think you a monster but... can I ask you something?"

Jenny very much did not want to talk. She moved away from Agnes, reaching for Stanley in his papoose. Agnes didn't want to let the woman go without an explanation. "Please, how were you able to do what you did? You tore the tree right out of the ground. That's not possible."

Jennifer held her son closely, avoiding eye contact with the other woman. "I didn't really think I'd be able to do it." She said.

"But you did. How? And why are you out here alone with a baby and... and... without clothes?"

Jennifer really didn't want to talk about herself. She wanted to flee. But at the same time she resented that urge in herself and did not want to give in to any kind of weakness. Staying there with the woman and speaking to her was every bit as hard as ripping that tree from the ground but Jennifer forced herself to do it anyway.

"I'm strong. I'm really strong and I don't need anybody." She answered.

Agnes was silent for a bit. "How long have you been alone, dear?"

Jennifer thought about telling the woman about her days of rutting among the wood-cutters but thought better of it. "Nearly a year. I gave birth to my son alone and have made a home for myself and I don't need anyone."

Agnes raised her hands in a calming gesture. "I can see that. You baby looks beautiful, Jenny."

It was a great relief to the powerful young woman when Agnes was interrupted at that moment by moaning sounds from her husband. Agnes rushed to his side and held his cheeks as she repeated his name over and over again.

Jennifer picked up her pack and slung Stanley across her chest. She moved away from the family quietly. After putting some distance between them, she waited. She watched as the man slowly became aware of his surroundings and began to speak horsy to his wife. The little boy stood over his parents watching with wide eyes as they cried in each other's arms.

As the man began to struggle to his feet, Jennifer Stram slipped away and made a bee-line for her valley home.

In the months that followed, her hand healed true. When Jennifer missed two monthly courses, she thought for a time that she was pregnant again. But then her period came back, surprising her one day with a bloody mess. She thought something was wrong with her but nothing more came of it.

Regretfully she concluded that her trip to the weak-lands had been in vain.
