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  "description": "EDIT: Spelling mistakes, also the PDF-file is now in glorious Times New Roman\n\nA story of how a daring horse farmhand sends the blue-blooded feline family of a farmstead spiralling into utter sexual indecency.\n\nItalics do not occur in the work pasted above. View the PDF file [url=https://www.dropbox.com/scl/fi/6jfmal7yv705r6rig4kaw/The-Cream-of-the-Crop.pdf?dl=0&rlkey=1qwf0aeldhtxxf5hgwil34r4p]HERE[/url] if you know what's good for you.\n\n------\n\n\nSome time last year, I decided I wanted to dabble in the niche of porn where workers in the field of a farmstead catch the eyes of the innocent nigh-noble girls looking out the windows. It started with this piece: \n#S2701036\n\nFrom there, I mapped out the whole sequence in my head. It were to end with all barriers broken, a snake having corrupted the entirety of paradise. It was the perfect exercise in crossing the Precipice in a satisfying manner; going from sexual reluctance into surrender. This without cheap tricks such as giving your characters room temperature IQ or making their nipples magic buttons that turn on turbo-slut mode.\n\nMy plan was to draw the instalments out of chronological order, as I felt inspiration hit me. It quickly became apparent that I would need to do a LOT of drawings to hit all the plot points. And I don't feel like I draw fast in the grand scheme of things. Inspiration spurred me towards other projects.\n\nInstead I thought \"let it be a writing exercise to keep the wordsmithing muscle limber\". Keep it short and simple. Just get through the plot points and let the barebone structure bring out the power in the concept of the story, rather than giving it pompous flourish.\n\nTurns out I don't know myself at all. I cannot do something and not make it whole. The descent into corruption is measured by the millimeter. There are no corners cut. There are perhaps a few humorous passages, where your willing suspension of disbelief needs to be at the ready.\nI had not planned for the characters to be real enough that I felt bad for putting them through turmoil. I had not planned to be sad that I had to end the story, before it grew to Tolkien levels of detail.\nThe work has a whopping seventeen sex scenes (counting generously) and lies at a plus 30.000 word count.\n\nIf you read my work Black and White, you might recognize the characters, though reinvented. In some ways this is an attempt to redo some of the core concepts, but apply what I have learned about writing in the meantime.\n\nRead it a few scenes at a time, rest, then come back to it. Don't overdose. If it's as fun to read as it was to write, then you will not regret it.\n",
  "description_bbcode_parsed": "<span style='word-wrap: break-word;'>EDIT: Spelling mistakes, also the PDF-file is now in glorious Times New Roman<br /><br />A story of how a daring horse farmhand sends the blue-blooded feline family of a farmstead spiralling into utter sexual indecency.<br /><br />Italics do not occur in the work pasted above. View the PDF file <a href=\"https://www.dropbox.com/scl/fi/6jfmal7yv705r6rig4kaw/The-Cream-of-the-Crop.pdf?dl=0&amp;rlkey=1qwf0aeldhtxxf5hgwil34r4p\" rel=\"nofollow\">HERE</a> if you know what&#039;s good for you.<br /><br />------<br /><br /><br />Some time last year, I decided I wanted to dabble in the niche of porn where workers in the field of a farmstead catch the eyes of the innocent nigh-noble girls looking out the windows. It started with this piece: <br /><table style='display: inline-block;'><tr><td>\r\n\t\t\t<div class='widget_imageFromSubmission ' style='width: 60px; height: 75px; position: relative; margin: 0px auto;'>\r\n\t\t\t\t<a   href='/s/2701036' style='border: 0px;'><img src='https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/medium/4160/4160480_Meowmere_someone_s_daughter_uwu_noncustom.jpg' width='60' height='75' title='Someone&#039;s Daughter by Meowmere' alt='Someone&#039;s Daughter by Meowmere' style='position: relative; border: 0px; ' class='shadowedimage' /></a>\r\n\t\t\t</div>\r\n\t\t\t</td></tr></table><br /><br />From there, I mapped out the whole sequence in my head. It were to end with all barriers broken, a snake having corrupted the entirety of paradise. It was the perfect exercise in crossing the Precipice in a satisfying manner; going from sexual reluctance into surrender. This without cheap tricks such as giving your characters room temperature IQ or making their nipples magic buttons that turn on turbo-slut mode.<br /><br />My plan was to draw the instalments out of chronological order, as I felt inspiration hit me. It quickly became apparent that I would need to do a LOT of drawings to hit all the plot points. And I don&#039;t feel like I draw fast in the grand scheme of things. Inspiration spurred me towards other projects.<br /><br />Instead I thought &quot;let it be a writing exercise to keep the wordsmithing muscle limber&quot;. Keep it short and simple. Just get through the plot points and let the barebone structure bring out the power in the concept of the story, rather than giving it pompous flourish.<br /><br />Turns out I don&#039;t know myself at all. I cannot do something and not make it whole. The descent into corruption is measured by the millimeter. There are no corners cut. There are perhaps a few humorous passages, where your willing suspension of disbelief needs to be at the ready.<br />I had not planned for the characters to be real enough that I felt bad for putting them through turmoil. I had not planned to be sad that I had to end the story, before it grew to Tolkien levels of detail.<br />The work has a whopping seventeen sex scenes (counting generously) and lies at a plus 30.000 word count.<br /><br />If you read my work Black and White, you might recognize the characters, though reinvented. In some ways this is an attempt to redo some of the core concepts, but apply what I have learned about writing in the meantime.<br /><br />Read it a few scenes at a time, rest, then come back to it. Don&#039;t overdose. If it&#039;s as fun to read as it was to write, then you will not regret it.<br /></span>",
  "writing": "Disclaimers: \n\nContains sexual depictions of minors (one male), incest, and a lot of infidelity. \nI do not condone any of the acts presented in this work of fiction. \nI make no pretense of the work amounting to anything more than caricature; my knowledge of the Wild West stems solely from Red Dead Redemption 2, and it’s been a while.\n\nWorldbuilding: \n- Species with humanoid morphology in this work are: cats, horses, bunnies, dogs, wolves, foxes, and deer \n- To avoid confusion, these species do not exist in other incarnations  \n- Assume all other species are still dumb and walk on four legs \n- Cowboys now ride donkeys \n- When humanoid species breed among each other, the offspring is of the same species as the mother \n- The Earth is flat, and evolution isn’t real \n- Nobody knows if God is real \n\n \n\n\n[i]Meowmere [/i]\n\n[t]The Cream of the Crop [/t]\n\n \n\n1. \n\nThat summer, life at the farmstead was a whirlwind. It started when our father hired a new hand. Or it started with my habit of eavesdropping, without which I suppose I would have been an oblivious kitten for a while longer. \n\nHis name was Achilles. He was a lean horse, a light, glistening brown, mottled with white specks. Girls fancied the blonde curl of his mane. He was good looking, even I could tell. But the white fur of the resident Callaghan family’s girls and their fae-like silver-pale hair were prettier, if you asked me.  \n\nOur father didn’t see the signs. He was only focused on the corn harvest, the Sunday prayers, and news of skirmishes with the Indians to the West. As long as Achilles pulled his weight, lugging corn across the grounds, our father couldn’t be happier. \n\nBut Achilles was a slick son-of-a-bitch, who fancied my mother and my older sister as much as I did. He had the same innate urge to reach for what he couldn’t have. Except he lacked the shame to hold back. \n\n \n\n2. \n\nI had made a habit of following my mother around, climbing the fences and low roofs. She and the workers laughed at my immature audacity. \n\nThey couldn’t tell I only did it to make it easier to look down her cleavage. It was a mystery that the fascination had waited my whole life to set in. The deep shadow between her breasts, bright in the sun, was hypnotizing. I was realizing that the tying in of her dress around her waist, pushing them up, was something you did to attract men. I saw others looking at times. I was a man. A boy. One who had to imagine the firmness or be slapped like the farmhands who threw raunchy words at the milkmaids.  \n\nShe sat, reading in the young summer’s heat. An unlabeled book she claimed contained religious fiction. The wondrous thickness of her tail batted, as if she had reached a passage that she liked. \n\nI lay on the roof above, chewing a straw of grass. Here, she couldn’t see me touching myself between my legs. I wondered how fucking happened. People always perked up or cowered when they heard the word, and I was afraid of saying it aloud. \n\n“Dalton,” she said, without looking up. “Will you fetch me the new hand?” \n\n“What for?” I was comfortable here. \n\n“Not much. Please.” \n\n“Fine.” \n\nI leapt down, denting the ground, and ran for the field where Achilles was picking corn. He was sweating and had opted to work without a shirt. \n\n“Hey,” I said, skidding to a stop. I spat out the straw. “My mother wants to talk.” \n\nAchilles whistled, setting down his basket. “She does, does she? Did she seem mad?” \n\n“Not at all.” \n\nHe nodded, flicking his tail and clicking his tongue. “Lucky for me. Lead the way.” \n\nWe walked back, meeting my mother’s beaming smile. She rose. “Thank you, Dalton. Now, be a dear and run back to the farm. Don’t you have mathematics to practice with Miss Button?” \n\nI did, but what did she need to talk about that I couldn’t hear? I was about to complain, but then nodded. I wasn’t planning on willingly going to study with the plump bunny. I walked quietly around the fence, before dropping down. I crawled along the thick grass, finding a spot where I could see the two of them while I heard them talk. \n\n“Missus Callaghan,” Achilles said, hand on his hip. \n\n“Mister Hart,” she replied. “How are you today? Work treating you well?” \n\n“Fine and good. How is reading treating you?” \n\n“Oh, you know. Always a surprise on the page you least expect. Hart. Has my husband mentioned that we need some work done on the main building?” \n\n“No, he has not. What did he have in mind?” \n\n“Oh, the window frame outside our bedroom is drooping. You can straighten it out in an afternoon.” \n\n“My.” Achilles crossed his arms. “You are inviting me to look inside your bedroom? Are you sure there aren’t tasks for me to do, where I won’t risk my vigorous heartbeat shaking me down the ladder?” \n\n“Mister Hart,” mother said feigning offense. She crossed her arms in turn. “If I didn’t know better, I would say you were flirting. All sense would bid you limit that to the young girls that visit us plenty.” She leaned daringly forward, and I could imagine the view. \n\n“Oh, those girls have nothing on you, Eloise.” \n\n“I’m serious, Achilles.” Her tone approached genuine frustration. “If you are not careful, Cole will hear, and you will be out of a job, faster than you can pull off a shirt. Remind me to warn Mercedes of your loose tongue. Young airheads might be foolish enough to fall for that. I see what you are. A trickster. Mean-spirited.” She paused with a sound near a gasp. “A... sinner.” \n\nHe huffed a meek laugh. “You are awfully presumptuous, Eloise. You think a girl as smart as your daughter would fall for petty trickery. I might have to prove you wrong.” \n\nShe put an accusing finger to his chest. “Don’t. Get any ideas. I have seen sleazes such as yourself strung up when betrothed girls get slighted.” \n\nHis smile persisted. “If you are trying to scare me... You are doing a poor job.” \n\nShe pushed up her nose and laughed. “The Lord will see that this haughty attitude comes back to bite you. Good day, Achilles.” She turned and left. \n\nI crept deeper into the grass. My prayers were heard, and she didn’t notice me as she strode past, her book primly tucked against her stomach.  \n\nAchilles laughed to himself. “By God, if you aren’t asking for it.” \n\nI was confused as to why she didn’t simply tell on him, if she found him annoying. Though I didn’t like the look on Achilles, I was curious what exactly he thought mother was asking for. \n\n \n\n3. \n\nI found my sister braiding dandelions by the well in the courtyard. Nina would soon start yelling for me, but I could yet savor my freedom.  \n\nShe wore a crown of flowers, already braided. With the intricate curls of her near-white hair framing her face, I found her the model image of a princess. She took after her mother, with fur even whiter. I couldn’t bear the thought that she would have to be stolen away to another home within the year.  \n\nI hopped onto the edge of the well. Her breasts were not as large as mother’s. But they had a better shape. I wondered if she was aware of the difference. Touching myself unnoticed here was harder than on a roof. \n\nShe didn’t pay mind to me, as she was used to my skulking around. \n\n“Mercedes,” I said. “If a boy told you that you made his heart beat faster. What would you do?” \n\nShe chuckled like a dove. “What a silly question. You mean Henry? He does have a way with words, when his throat doesn’t knot up, the poor puppy.” \n\n“No, not him.” She wouldn’t shut up about her Henry, who would get to touch her breasts. Not me.  “Any other boy.” \n\n“That would be inappropriate, Dalton. Even if a boy didn’t know that I am already betrothed, he shouldn’t be so forward.” \n\nShe was dodging the question. “But what would you do?” \n\n“I suppose I would tell him, loud and clear, that my heart beats only for one. And if he did anything but nod in understanding, I suppose I would slap him. Like this.” She waved her hand through the air. “Slap.” \n\nI imagined being the target and hissed. \n\n“You’re not looking for romantic advice for chasing girls already taken, are you, Dalton? Who is it? Are you perhaps head over heels for Miss Button?” She folded her hands and swayed gently. \n\n“Absolutely not!” She was cute with her round cheeks, but annoying. “I’m not in love with anyone.” That felt like lying. But what did I know of love? \n\n“Ah, just when I thought my little brother was looking to grow up. Don’t worry. You’ll find yourself a sweet girl to chase soon enough. You’ve got your lucky mark. They’ll swarm to you.” \n\nI touched my cheek, where my fur pattern drew a horseshoe. It had yet to bring me any fortune. I wanted to tell her that I didn’t want to chase just any girl. But eventually, I might have to. I didn’t know what to say. She kept braiding. \n\nI sighed. “Do you like the new farmhand?” \n\nShe looked at me and frowned. “Achilles? Why do you ask?” \n\n“I think he has fallen in love with mother.” \n\n“Ah, what luck.” She laughed. “Might be he will leave me alone then.” \n\n“He has been bothering you?” \n\n“Yes. No. He has been doing that God-awful thing where he strokes my cheek as if I am a pet.” She shuddered. “And he said girls aren’t that pretty where he comes from. I know he’s used to girls jumping at him, simply for being a horse, but he’s got another thing coming.” \n\nWhat was so great about being a horse? “Did you slap him?” \n\n“God no. He’s so big. What if fury took him? He doesn’t know any better.” \n\nSo, if you were big enough, she couldn’t help but let you do as you pleased? I felt my hopes sinking. “Mercedes.” I swallowed. “Other girls have nothing on you.” \n\nShe looked up, perplexed. “What do you mean?” \n\n“Nothing. You are pretty, is all.” \n\n“Oh you.” She rose from the grass and embraced me. Her breasts were comfortably close. “You rascal. Save the poetry for someone else. Because as you know...” She poked my nose. “I am taken.” \n\nShe kissed my head and turned away. As she skipped, palms downward, her hair and tail swayed softly.  \n\nI sat, carefully feeling the burning warmth where her lips had touched me.  \n\n  \n\n4. \n\nNina Button found me and insistently dragged me into the common room. The homework lay fanned out on the table. \n\nShe donned her round glasses, making the already round look of a bunny overdone. “So, my little buddy Dally. Today is division, which is like taking a little number and seeing how big it becomes if we slice it up and share it between little you and a bunch of your friends. See? So, if we take fooour apples. And divide it by twooo friends. Then you have fooour apples split into two. And that’s two apples. Because two times two is four. Remember how we’ve gone through multiplication?” \n\n“Yes, Miss Button. I remember. I also know how to divide.” \n\n“So, if you have teeen apples. And then divide it by fooour of your best friends. Then you can have twooo for each. And then with the rest, it makes... Three. No wait... It’s. How was it again?” \n\nI wondered whether her boyfriend had fucked her, or if she was waiting until marriage, like father insisted Mercedes did. It had something to do with God. Honestly, when the drunk farmhands shouted about fucking in the late night, I got the sense that you would have a lot more fun if it wasn’t for God. \n\nNina’s boyfriend was one of the horses from Henry’s farm. I wondered why horses were so popular. I had heard some of the dogs saying something about horses always winning pissing contests. \n\nI imagined Nina naked. Then I imagined mother and Mercedes. They were far better. \n\nI crossed my legs, as my cock had decided to stand up. A cock was what grown-ups called it. \n\n“Are you listening?” Nina asked and I shook myself out of my daydream. \n\n“Yes. Sorry.” \n\nFather entered and dropped a sack of oats in the corner. His bearded face smiled at the two of us. “Good to see you hard at work.” \n\n“I’ve got to say, Cole,” Nina said. “I don’t know if we can get this boy ready for an exam. He has too much trouble concentrating. Don’t you, buddy?” \n\nI wanted to slap her. Fuck her glasses off her stupid round face. “I’m doing just fine. A hundred divided by eight is twelve point five. Can I go?” \n\n“No, buddy. One hundred divided by eight is... it’s.” \n\n“Actually,” father said. “I could use his help fixing the broken fence.” \n\n“Oh fine,” she said. “Be like that. I’ll do the divisions by myself, thank you.” \n\nI rose, longing for the outdoors. I tried not to think of what lecture father had planned. \n\n \n\n5. \n\n“Then you hold it like this. Good.” Father spoke, mumbling through the nails in his mouth. \n\nI held the board in place as instructed. Father brought forth a nail and started hammering. I studied his tired eyes, wondering if that was where I was heading. “Can I hammer in one?” I didn’t really want to. The sound was giving me a headache. I tried to imagine it was gunfire. \n\nFather kept hammering. “Not the fence that holds the livestock. You should practice a bit in the workshop with your own hammer first.” \n\n“I don’t have a hammer.” \n\n“Really?” Father hesitated. “Every boy your age should have their own hammer.” \n\n“You can get me one for my birthday next month.” I would rather have a gun. \n\nFather nodded in appreciation. “You’re turning thirteen, yes. My word, kids grow up so fast. It seems only yesterday that Mercedes was all about dolls. And now she is sighing over that Henry boy. Soon, you’ll be getting your own place.” He shook his head. He put another nail to the board, but hesitated. He took the nails from his mouth, so he could speak clearly. “You’re a good kid, Dalton. Do you remember Martin’s son, Ike?”  \n\n“I do.” He took me fishing once. \n\n“He died earlier today. Syphilis. God has punished him for his frivolous ways with the village whores, going through them, like a snake through a swamp.” \n\n“Horrible.” Why are you telling me this? \n\n“Proverbs, twenty-two, six. Start children off on the way they should go, and even when they are old, they will not turn from it. I want you to stay on God’s path. When you grow up, I would be the happiest if you turned to priesthood. You have a way with words. And I promise you... That is where you will shine. No need to sweat in the sun, hammering nails like your old man.” \n\nNot again with the Bible verses. Even becoming an outlaw sounded more appealing. “But... What if I want a girlfriend?” Would my mother like it if I were a priest? \n\n“You can be a priest and marry. As long as you remain pure of heart and don’t surrender to your passions. Then God will smile upon you.” \n\nDidn’t you fuck mother to make me and Mercedes? I bet you didn’t care what God thought then. “Thank you, father. I will think on it.” I wouldn’t. \n\n \n\n6. \n\nThe next day, the sheriff rode into our courtyard. A grumpy looking puma, glaring as if trying to burn the place to the ground with his eyes. I stared at his gun, imagining him fanning the hammer at outlaws. \n\nThe farm’s residents poured out curiously. \n\nFather approached him. “Sir. How may we be of service?” \n\n“Good day, Cole. We need able-bodied men. This morning, the mayor didn’t return with the rest of the hunting party. There are concerns that bears may have caught him unaware. I’m gathering a search party.” \n\n“I understand,” father said. “For... how long do you imagine I’ll be needed?” \n\n“At least two days, though how could I say for certain?” \n\nFather nodded. “I’ll come with. Give me half an hour to make sure I leave the business well-oiled. Might be I can convince some of the hands to come along.” \n\nThe sheriff tipped his hat. \n\nMother put her fingertips to her lips as father approached us. “A search party? Could that be dangerous?” \n\n“Likely not. Still, it is work that needs doing. And it is work that I can do, so I will. God willing, I’ll return with some bear for the cookpot, eh?” \n\nMother gathered food that would keep well. I gathered clothing to ward off the weather. Mercedes spread the word, asking if any of the hands felt able-bodied enough to find the mayor. Two agreed to join. \n\nFather reverently took down the rifle hanging above the fireplace. He stroked it as if being forced to use it would cause him great pain. \n\nThey saddled up the best donkeys. We were about to say our farewells, when Achilles stepped up, favoring one hoof over the other. “Hey. I was meaning to join, but I’m afraid I sprained my ankle when I fell, working on the window frame. I’d slow you down.” \n\nFather looked at mother, pointing at Achilles. “Is he lying?” There was an uncomfortable breath of silence, before father burst out laughing. “I’m kidding!” He put a hand on Achilles shoulder. “Don’t mention it. We need strong men here to hold the fort. Who knows? One day those dirty Indians will decide they want our women, no? I’ll be counting on you then.” He nodded to the sheriff and mounted his donkey. He reached out, caressing Mercedes’ cheek. “I’ll send letters if I’m too long.” He nodded to me. “Man of the house now. Best of luck.” \n\nWe waved as father and the two hands rode after the sheriff, out of the courtyard. \n\nI could have sworn, the moment father was out of sight, Achilles no longer showed any sign of a sprained ankle. \n\n \n\n7.  \n\nThe farmstead seemed silent that evening. The workers poured out of the mess hall, rubbing stomachs full of the chef’s beloved soup. \n\nI was considering going to the river downhill, to see if I could catch a glimpse of one of the girls bathing. But I was caught off guard by an exchange I wasn’t meant to overhear. \n\n“...Could only pick one? Then you can have the mother. Something about lifting the daughter with my cock alone...” \n\nIt was Achilles, who had apparently taken a liking to the dark dog they called Trick. They walked with purpose, the horse carrying a knapsack ringing with the sound of bottles touching. \n\nI decided to follow at a safe distance. The words echoed in my head, as I tried to decipher their meaning. I imagined Mercedes lifted by his cock and felt an awkward swirl. How could he say that without hesitation? \n\nAchilles seemed unable to stop talking, leaning near Trick to whisper. He motioned in soft curves with his palms. Trick spoke only few words, nodding along in deep appreciation. \n\nThey approached the gazebo, an outpost of intricate carpentry, overtaken by tendrils of thorned flowers. In it sat my mother and sister, exercising a tradition of theirs: comparing their embroidery talents. \n\nI skirted around, taking care to approach the outpost from the far side without getting noticed. I placed myself among the branches of a bramble patch. From here, I could watch over them. \n\nThe horse and the dog forced the steps and approached the Callaghan girls, like soldiers to royalty. Mother and Mercedes looked up, silently agreeing to let the newcomers speak uninterrupted. \n\n“Ladies,” Achilles said, placing his knapsack on the table. “I regret to interrupt. But I was in town the other day, and a salesman who claimed to have brought them from overseas managed to sell me these.” He produced three bottles of wine. “I was surely scammed, but I was hoping you might enjoy them with us, easing my regret. We can play a hand or two of hearts while we’re at it.” \n\nThe cats looked to each other, flicking their whiskers in amusement. \n\n“Oh, I don’t know,” mother said. “Wine always gets me off my feet like a goose on ice.” \n\n“Come now,” Mercedes said, laughing as she took one of the bottles to examine it. “Father never brings home wine. It’s always scotch and rum. My fingers could use a rest.” \n\n“That’s the spirit,” Achilles said, sitting into one of the empty chairs. He pointed for Trick to do the same. \n\nMother crossed her arms, clearly considering sending them off. “I suppose we shouldn’t be rude. It looks to be good wine.” She shrugged and set down the embroidery frame.  \n\n“Do you know how to play hearts?” Achilles asked, passing out cups. Trick was already shuffling a set of playing cards. \n\nBoth cats shook their heads. As Achilles poured wine, Trick started explaining with frightening efficiency. I couldn’t seem to remember him ever speaking a full sentence before. In the game, you played for as few points as possible, the points being each card in the suit of hearts. \n\n“Ah,” Mercedes said. “So, it should in fact be called heartless.” \n\n“But,” Achilles said, lifting a finger. “Heartless is a decidedly grim name. And here we are jolly, yes?” \n\nShe nodded. “Quite jolly.” \n\n“Don’t purr on my account.” \n\n“Don’t you know,” she said, straightening her back. “Purring is decidedly unladylike.” \n\nHe smirked. “We’ll see.” \n\nThey started playing. All drank their wine, and even mother seemed to forget her reluctance. The first round came to a stop when the queen of spades was played. \n\n“This one,” Trick said, pointing to her. “I forgot to mention. She is worth thirteen points. As many as all hearts combined.” \n\n“That’s not fair!” Mercedes said. “I’m the one taking this trick. You did that on purpose.” \n\n“Those are the rules,” Achilles said. “You should always be careful when taking a trick.” Only I seemed to see how Achilles and Trick shared a gluttonous nod. \n\n“A poisonous queen,” mother said, drinking deep. “Queens can be like that. You should treat them with care.” \n\nAchilles raised his glass to her. “Ah, but tonight I only see sweet queens. Gentle as swaying wheat.” \n\nMercedes put her hands to her pink nose, flustered. \n\n“Don’t be so sure,” mother said, leaning forward with sly eyes. “We might just beat you at this silly game.” \n\n“I always like a challenge, Missus Callaghan,” Achilles said, pouring more wine for her. \n\nThe next round neither of the cats took any points and the men had to sit back, admitting defeat with dignified nods. \n\n“Are we keeping score?” Mercedes asked. “What do we get if we win?” \n\nAchilles nodded sideways. “More wine.” \n\n“Easy,” mother said, swaying where she sat. “We might get drunk. It would be decidedly improper.” \n\n“Hey now,” Achilles said. “Don’t let us tell you that you can’t be improper. Limber up. Do as you feel.” \n\n“In the book I am reading,” mother said. “Doing as you feel is quite the dangerous undertaking. The characters all throw caution to the wind and... gamble their fortunes away. Wine is to blame.” \n\nTrick put his head askew. “What is your book about?” \n\n“Oh...” mother said. She hesitated before shaking her head. “I doubt you’d find it interesting. It is boring old romance.” \n\n“Mother,” Mercedes said. “Romance? Is real life not enough for you? Father is plenty romantic to you. I feel bad for him.” \n\n“That is unfair. I love your father. It has nothing to do with him. It is simply amusing to... dream yourself away to someplace else.” She sipped at an empty cup. \n\n“There is no shame in that,” Achilles said, reaching out to pour her more wine. \n\nSeveral hands more were dealt, and the cats slouched more and more in their seats. I wondered how drinking so much wine felt. I wondered if the men were only pretending to drink. I saw Achilles’ scheme. He wanted to remain sharp. I felt as if I needed to leap in and shout my discovery. That the cats were getting cheated. But I remained in place. \n\nSuddenly, Mercedes looked down, finding Achilles’ hand on her thigh. She gasped, leaping up. Barely retaining balance, she slapped him, sending cards flying. One hand was a fist at her side, the other pointed at him. “Who do you think you are, you... you scoundrel. I am promised. If you forget it again... I’ll have my father... beat you to pulp.” She staved off, her tail defiantly pointed at the ground. She didn’t look back. \n\nI smirked. I guess you can’t work magic. The Callaghan girls could defend themselves. \n\nThe remaining three smiled awkwardly at each other. Achilles raised his palms and sighed. “I grazed her, honest.” \n\n“That girl.” Mother laughed to herself. “She’s so sensitive. So young yet.” \n\n“Doesn’t seem like she knows how to have fun yet.” Achilles reached out for the final bottle of wine. “Good thing others do.” \n\nMother lifted a hand. “Stop, please.” She made a disarming smile. “I’m outnumbered. I can’t be having the two of you ganging up on me like that.” She rose, struggling to maintain a dignified air. She put a hand to Achilles cheek as she went by him. She stopped, as if lost in thought. “I must be going. Thanks for the wine.” She let go of him and walked after Mercedes. \n\nLeft were Achilles, arms crossed, and Trick shuffling cards. \n\nTrick smiled. “Shit luck, huh?”   \n\nAchilles gathered up the cups. “Mercedes is just as stubborn as me. But Eloise is coming around.” \n\n“Not tonight, by my estimate.” \n\n“Steady wins the race.”  \n\nTrick shrugged. “Is it worth the effort? They’re cats. They’re too good for you.” \n\n“Have you seen them? They’re the cream of the crop, Trick. I’ll die trying.” Achilles picked up the last bottle of wine. “Let’s go see if the bunny will take this off our hands. It’ll be like stealing from the lame, but you know. Half a loaf.” \n\nTrick nodded. They rose and left. \n\nI followed, feeling that if I hadn’t been caught so far, I had to do it. Achilles seemed to conjure confidence from nothing. He was bound to overstep eventually... \n\n \n\n8. \n\nThe two found Nina and dragged her to the barn, waving the wine at her nose. I knew all the secrets of the place, and one climb of a ladder on the backside later, I had nested myself in the hayloft, with a wide view of the floor below. \n\nThe men had placed Nina in between them, smoking tobacco, as she drank wine. She needed little convincing to down most of the bottle on her own. “God, you guys are the only ones who understand me,” she said, already leaning close against Trick. “All day, it’s just yap yap yap. The chef spilled broth on my skirt, the bastard. Asked me to clean up, then go change, or I would be the only ugly thing in his kitchen. Then he grabbed my ass.” She spat to the side. \n\nI’d always known Nina as gentle, if a little airheaded. I never thought of grabbing her ass until now. Suddenly, it was the only thought in my head. I could slap her. My dumb math teacher. \n\n“Can you blame him?” Achilles said. “Imagine him walking around someone so inviting. A man would lose his mind.” He blew smoke at her, his lips hovering close to hers. \n\nShe put the bottle to her mouth, swallowing the contents with wet gulps. She wiped away the red drops. She looked disheveled, even in the low light. She put a finger to Achilles’ chest. “You... You’re. I think you’re...” She burped. \n\nAchilles didn’t flinch. He put his mouth to hers in a kiss. Not like I had seen them before. It looked for a moment as if he would eat her. They drooled on each other, her making muted gasps. Her lips enclosed around his tongue, as if afraid he would retract. Something in me stirred. It was the same as when I imagined the Callaghan girls naked, but more powerful. \n\nTrick seemed unbothered. He put his hands to Nina’s shoulders and started to pull off her shirt. \n\nThis was it. They were about to fuck. I knew it was wrong. I was supposed to leave. Swiftly bring Nina’s boyfriend from the other farm, so a proper fistfight could ensue for her honor. \n\nBut Nina’s frail panting seemed too far gone, when Trick’s hands lifted her heavy breasts. He leaned against her neck with soft growling. I stared, stretching my neck. Don’t do it. She was an annoying teacher. But she was my teacher. She let it happen. “God,” she hissed. “Take me.” \n\nAchilles rose and pulled out a work desk, sweeping the contents into the hay. Trick pulled up Nina by the arm. She had no balance and let her chubby frame double over the desk’s edge. As her face lay against the surface, her ears splayed out, Achilles dropped his pants. I saw it. Heavy and glistening. Achilles’ cock. It stood upright. I imagined it could lift someone. He took it in his hand. He lifted Nina’s skirt and guided it to the spot beneath her bush of a tail. \n\nI should defend my territory. Tell Achilles he had gone too far. But what could I do? If I did nothing... I would get to see how far he could go... Was that what I wanted? \n\nHe disappeared inside her, and she let out a primal groan, as if she had been punched. Her tail bristled, a star shuddering feverously. God didn’t barge in, throwing thunderbolts, screaming that they were not married. \n\nMy hand had gone between my legs too, without me noticing. It was harder than it had ever been. I pulled at it, timing the motion with Achilles’ thrusts and Nina’s resounding moans. Trick went to the opposite site, pulling his cock out as well. He dangled it before her, pulling her head up by the hair. She struggled to focus. As if by instinct, she put her lips around it. Like Achilles’ tongue, she kept kissing it, drawing Trick inside her. She shook as the two tossed against her, their gluttonous grins not letting off. \n\nAchilles retracted from her and pointed, in a signal for them to change places. \n\nNina looked up at him with wet eyes. “You really...” she slurred. “Think I’m pretty?” \n\n“Dumb bunny whore,” he answered, patting her cheek. \n\nTrick lifted her legs, turning her belly up. With her legs against his shoulders, he leaned in, baring glistening sharp teeth. Her yelp was drowned by Achilles guiding his cock into her mouth. She arced her back, and I had to gape as he managed to drive half of it into her throat. Her spit foamed, spilling onto the desk. \n\nMy mind was blank. A velvet swirl was spreading from my stomach. \n\nI had no idea how long it had been when Achilles pulled out. I seemed to think it was the first time in minutes he had let her breathe. Trick stepped to Achilles’ side. With their cocks pointed at her face, they rubbed, just like me. She writhed, with her tongue hanging out. All were gasping. They pulled back, tensing their bodies, and out shot strings of white, crossing along her face. Her buck-teethed smile was smeared. \n\nThe velvet swirl gripped me, setting my body alight. I felt a wet stain spread in my pants. I almost bit my tongue as my body twitched. \n\nAchilles and trick donned their clothes. Achilles took the knapsack and the bottles. They left, muttering to one another, as if it was the only natural thing to do. \n\nAll was quiet, except the sounds Nina was making, rubbing herself between the legs. \n\nInstead of velvet, I felt suddenly empty. I felt God watching me, the roaring silence like his fury on the verge of skewering me. I looked at Nina, suddenly again feeling that it was wrong. She wasn’t supposed to be here. I should have saved her. They had left, without as much as a farewell. God would forgive me if I helped her. I crawled down the ladder and approached her. She pushed herself up from the desk. Her eyes didn’t seem to see me, though her smile widened. “You,” she said, swaying and trembling. “You rascal.” \n\nI didn’t know what to say. \n\nShe made no move to cover up. She drew her hand from between her legs and put a finger to her tongue. “Want me to suck you off? I’m good at it.” \n\nWhat? I felt nauseous.  \n\nShe stood up. With lazy steps she neared me. “You looking for mommy? I’ll be your mommy.” Her face dripped, as if melting. \n\nScared and frail I turned and bolted out of the barn. \n\n \n\n9. \n\nThe shame faded with a night’s sleep. \n\nI had bread and honey for breakfast with mother and sister at my sides. Nina entered and leaned against the doorframe, half asleep. I stared. Though clean and glasses donned, I couldn’t see her as before. I saw her on the work desk with her legs raised. \n\n“Apologies,” she said. “I overslept.” \n\n“No matter,” mother said. “The laundry isn’t going anywhere.” \n\nShe went by me and ruffled my hair. “I hope you’ve rehearsed your math, buddy. I’ll be coming for you later.” My fur stood on end as I shuddered.  \n\nWhen we exchanged a gaze, she only hesitated for the blink of an eye. Then she smiled, same old buckteeth. She didn’t remember. Maybe she thought it had been a dream. \n\nI was suddenly annoyed at myself. I should have let her do it. Suck me off. I make the white stuff too. Cum. I could have cum in her mouth. But her boyfriend... Fuck her boyfriend. She had already betrayed him. \n\nI could have been at the desk, the one to throw myself at her, my cock inside her. Then I would at least be even with Achilles. I doubled over the table, tense with the velvet sensation spreading in me. Mother and sister couldn’t see me hard. They would laugh. \n\nMother put her hand on my back. “Honey. Are you alright? You look ill.” \n\n“I’m fine,” I said. “Bad stomach.” \n\n“Oh,” she said. “Let me know if we need to cook up some elderberry juice.” \n\nI nodded. “That’d be nice.” Anything that could distract me. \n\n \n\n10. \n\nIt had been two days without word from father. Mother sat, fidgeting with her embroidery, pouring herself scotch. She growled at the servants. I had heard Nina giggling that Eloise suffered from a broken heart. \n\nAs I passed by, mother grabbed my arm. “Dalton,” she said softly. “Have you uh... Have you seen my book? The one with the green cover.” \n\nThe one she was usually smiling into. I thought a moment. “No. Sorry. I could help look for it?” \n\nShe shook her head meekly. “Where would it even be? Out by the gazebo? I looked there already.” \n\nShe could have dropped it off the side, in the bramble patch. I could get to it. “I’ll go look.” \n\n“Oh, don’t...” she said, but I had already darted off. \n\nI emerged into the courtyard, where Achilles was tying up sacks of corn in an open wagon. He was whistling as he tied exotic knots that I couldn’t imagine served much purpose in holding sacks. I ran close by. \n\nSuddenly, I lost my balance as something snatched on my ankle. I barely raised my palms to soften the collision with the dirt. My knee dug down with a sharp pain numbing my leg. \n\nI looked up and saw the blocky tooth-grin of a laughing Achilles. I felt tears welling up. My eyes zipped over the scene, and I concluded that he had pulled a rope lying across the path, tripping me with it. \n\n“You...” My words failed me. “You!” \n\nAchilles grin faded. “I’m s–”   \n\n“Hey! You big oaf.” Achilles and I turned our heads to see my mother rushing towards us, a finger raised. “You think you can do whatever you want, just because the man of the house is gone? Well, you have another thing coming.” \n\nAchilles raised his hands, as if to shield himself. “Easy, milady.” He chuckled. “It was just a joke. I was going to...” \n\n“Just a joke?” Mother knelt by my side, putting her arms around me. Her tail folded about me, like a cotton cloud. “Are you hurt?” She put her nose against my ear. \n\nI was sure I had scraped my knee, but at her scent, I felt my mind wander. “It’s fine,” I said. “Nothing happened.” \n\nShe squeezed me before rising. She placed herself before Achilles, crossing her arms. “So? What were you going to say?” \n\nAchilles rolled in the rope, folding it around his arm. “Missus Callaghan. I was about to apologize.” \n\n“Who raised you to think that you are perfectly allowed to maim senselessly, as long as you apologize immediately?” \n\nAchilles scratched the back of his head. “Oh, I was raised in an orphanage, actually.” \n\nShe seemed to hesitate at the prospect of berating him further. “You know, I have noticed you slacking on the job as well. Seeing as your employer is on leave, someone needs to have a stern talking to you.” \n\n“That someone being you?” \n\n“I don’t like your tone. You’re coming with me. Now.” She pointed sternly for the main building.  \n\nAchilles folded his arms behind her in mock and strutted along. As they disappeared inside, I pushed myself up from the ground. Taken by the thought of Achilles’ scolding, I ignored the pain in my knee. I followed to the far side of the house. The building was riddled with cracks in the boards and fallen out knots. I peered into father’s study, where he would pray and sort papers. \n\nMother had taken father’s chair behind the desk, and across the table sat Achilles. He hadn’t tossed the rope and sat with it over his shoulder. \n\n“Why’d you bring me here?” he asked easily. \n\n“Don’t play dumb. You’ve been acting inappropriately. Several of the girls have complained.” She managed to look as imposing as father, even in her pale pink dress. \n\nHe sighed. “That’s too bad. You not hearing of the ones who are perfectly satisfied with my performance.” \n\nMother folded her hands and leaned forward. “And I don’t want to hear it, thank you. Not everyone takes pride in a mind in the gutter.” \n\nHe leaned forward to meet her. “Ah, but everyone does visit the gutter on occasion, don’t they, Eloise?” \n\nShe flicked her whiskers. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” \n\nHe shrugged. “I skimmed your book. It has some very saucy passages. I’ve got to say, it left me a little... winded.” \n\n“You stole it?” \n\n“Hey, I borrowed it. Your lovely drunk self seemed interested in discussing your literature. And I’m ripe with thoughts. I especially liked the part where Luke Dastard’s gang invades the mayor’s home and ties up the wife Valensiya, who won’t stop squealing before one of them pops his member into her mouth. Or when she strips at the gambling table to save the family fortune and they start playing cards over who gets to sleep with her. Does your husband share these fancies?” \n\nI breathed in sharply, afraid I would be heard. Was that what my mother was reading? Was that what made her smile?  \n\nShe breathed in deep and slow. “Mister Hart.” Her voice was hard but faded into a whisper. “Are you blackmailing me?” \n\nHe sat back. “Gosh, no. Unless, of course... You want me to blackmail you?” \n\nShe looked down, shaking her head. “My poor Cole would burn the book if he found it. Please don’t tell him about it.” \n\n“He’s a bit virtuous, isn’t he? I’m sorry to hear that you need to suffer that. Not being able to... be yourself.” \n\nShe looked up. Her eyes narrowed. “Ah... he’s not here, so. It’s not so bad.” \n\nHis smile shone. “What you don’t know can’t hurt you.” \n\nShe rose from her seat. “I wouldn’t want to betray my vows. But if someone were blackmailing me... working rope to pin me down. Then I would have no choice, would I?” She leaned her hip against the desk, sweeping her tail. I felt the air stir. \n\nHe rose and stepped closer. “Missus Callaghan. If you don’t do as I say... Then I’ll tell Cole everything, first thing.” \n\nShe grabbed him by the muzzle with a scathing glare. “Mister Hart. If you fuck half as well as you seem to think... Maybe I won’t fire you.” \n\n“On the desk. Hands on your back.” \n\nShe slid off the desk and leaned over it. Achilles pulled the rope from his shoulder. \n\nI bit down. You’re not doing it, mother. You were supposed to scold him. Father... \n\nAchilles wound the rope around her wrists. With an efficiency he had never shown in the fields, he tied her forearms to each other. The rope fell into place, dividing the delicate strands of fur. \n\nMother gasped. \"You know I’m still mad at you about tripping my son, right?” \n\n“Shut up about that brat.” \n\n\"Why don’t you make me shut up?” \n\nHe groaned, taking off his undershirt. He wrung it into a rope and pulled it over her mouth. The moment it had been tied around her head, he pushed her flat against the surface. \n\nHe pulled down his pants and raised the skirts of her dress. At the swift rise of his cock, I retracted from my vantage point. It was happening, and I couldn’t bear watching it. On the back of my eyelids, I saw Achilles’ grin, as he tripped me. It was unfair. \n\nI had wanted mother for so much longer. He’d worked no magic, and she had still fallen into his lap. Behind me, mother gasped muffled noises through the cloth. Like Nina had. Taken aback and happy.  \n\nI didn’t want to look, but I had to. I would never get to do what Achilles was doing... So maybe. Maybe it was alright. I rose and peeked over the windowsill. \n\nMother lay helpless, whimpering against the desk, as Achilles pushed into her. He was big even against her wide hips. It made me hard, despite my anger. Or because of it. \n\n“God, Eloise,” he hissed. “I’d never thought you’d be so easy. A mother spreading her legs, the second her man leaves.” Their bodies twitched. “That makes you go, huh?” \n\nI pulled away, afraid I’d get seen if I pushed my luck. I found the crack again. Mother was bending, squealing against the cloth, as if she wanted to object. Quiet down. You’ll get heard. \n\n“Almost there,” Achilles said. “You’ll be mine.” \n\nMother shook her head, and finally the cloth fell from her mouth. “Don’t finish inside. I’m serious!” \n\n“Tough luck,” he said and pushed against her, legs trembling. \n\nMother’s groan was half annoyance, half raw enjoyment. At his final stretches against her, her body didn’t object.  \n\nHe retracted. He started donning his pants. \n\n“Untie me,” mother said, suddenly with regret. He quickly did. \n\nMother limbered up her arms before her, still leaned down. “Go.” \n\nHe nodded. “I’ll be sure to say you gave me a stern talking to.” \n\nHe went out the door. They didn’t even lock it. I kept looking. Mother lay, breathing as if she was holding back tears. Between her legs, the cum... it was pouring, like from a water pump. My own cock was straining against my pants, and finally the warm sensation peaked. I hadn’t even touched it, and the wetness spread. \n\nAfter I had finished shaking, laying against the ground, I pushed myself up. I staved off to the front of the house. \n\nI sat against the wall, staring into the air. The regret was back. God was angry with me for letting it happen. But he had let it happen too. God was a fool. \n\nI didn’t know how long it had been when mother emerged from inside. She looked into the air as I, hesitating. She sighed. “Did you find the book?” \n\n“No.” Why did you let it happen? Why wasn’t it me? \n\n“It’s alright. I think I know where it is.” She brushed the front of her skirt and salvaged her smile. She nodded before turning to walk back inside, her tail sweeping with unconcerned grace. \n\n \n\n11. \n\nAnother day passed, and there was still no word from father. There was talk of sending someone to town, looking for news at the city hall. \n\nEvening was taking the daylight, and mother, sister and I were gathered around the table, about to eat mother’s potato pie. There was a knock on the door. \n\n“Sweetheart, could you get that?” mother said, looking to me. \n\nI leapt from the chair and rushed to the door. I opened it to find a wide-eyed blonde dog. “Henry.” \n\n“Ah, Dalton,” Henry said. “Good to see you. I was on my way back from the lake and caught the scent of your mother’s cooking. I hope I’m not intruding.” \n\n“Henry!” Mercedes called, dashing to the door. She embraced him, kissing his cheek. \n\n“Welcome,” mother said. “Don’t hesitate. Come sit down. There’s enough for everyone.” \n\nHenry was pulled by Mercedes’ hand, bopping across the floor. They sat down, pulling chairs close together, as if prepared to ward off intruders from their safe corner of the table. \n\nSeveral pies stood steaming, and even as all helped themselves to sizeable portions, it seemed there would be plenty of leftovers. \n\nHenry made sure to swallow before speaking. “Delicious, Missus Callaghan. Mercy, I hope you’ll learn to cook like this. One day, it’ll make the farm we’ll have the most perfect plot of land in the country.” \n\nMercedes ate tiny bites and spoke easily. “Oh, I don’t know. I’ll never learn to cook like mother. But it’ll be perfect nonetheless. Because you’ll be there.” She poked his nose. \n\n“And you with me.” \n\nI felt nausea. My sister was marrying this dolt. And my mother was sleeping with a horse. I coughed on a piece of potato. \n\n“You alright there?” Henry asked. \n\n“Yes, thank you.” \n\n“Tell me, Dalton. Have you been practicing with that slingshot I gave you? I bet you can hit every bottle from fifty feet off.” \n\nI hadn’t practiced. I would have rather had a gun. “Sure. I hit a squirrel the other day.” \n\n“You didn’t!” Mercedes said. “Oh, the poor thing.” \n\n“Ha,” Henry said. “You should listen to your sister. Be kind to critters and all of God’s creatures.” \n\nOr else what? “Sure, you’re right.” \n\nMother chuckled. “Oh, let the boy have fun. You two sound like an old married couple already.” \n\n“I’m proud at that,” Mercedes said, straightening her back and perking her ears. “I need to be the best I can be.” \n\n“Oh, I love you,” Henry said, leaning near her neck. “You’ll be a wife like no other.” He breathed in deep. \n\nHer eyelids fluttered as she sighed. “Oh...” Then she frowned. With a silent fury, she batted his cheek. He slid his hand off her thigh. “Not here,” she whispered. “You promised.” \n\nHe gathered his hands in his lap, flustered. “All this waiting,” he whispered back. “It’s driving me crazy.” \n\nMother smiled wide and nodded softly. “Please. Time will slip past soon enough. Lord knows I should have had your patience.” \n\nA silence settled, as no one seemed to catch her meaning. \n\nThe door opened. Eyes turned. Achilles entered, his overalls marked with streaks of dirt. “Apologies,” he said. “I’m looking for needle and thread. I was tearing up roots and tore a hole in my glove.” \n\nWe looked to each other, unsure of who was to answer. \n\n“Oh, Achilles,” Mother said. “You’ve been working all day. Why don’t you take a break? The roots can wait until tomorrow. We’ve got too much food.” \n\nMe and Mercedes looked uncertainly to each other. Father’s rule was that if one servant ate with us, they would all want to. \n\nAchilles huffed. “Oh, thank you. I’m not sure... I wouldn’t want to intrude.” \n\n“Would he be intruding?” Mother asked, turning to the rest of the gathering. \n\nYes. He would. \n\nHenry lifted his palms. “No foul on my end. The more the merrier.” \n\nAchilles hesitated, standing solidly in the doorway. “Fine,” he said and entered. He pulled out a chair and sat down. He shifted back and forth, before finally seeming satisfied with his posture. Even with a straight back and hands on his thighs, the contrast between his clothes and ours was jarring. \n\nMother retrieved a plate for him, and as soon as she had set it down, he started taking pie swiftly enough that the rest of us frowned. \n\n“So,” Henry said. “I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced.” He held his hand out tentatively. \n\nAchilles shook it with studied care. “I’m Achilles. All-purpose worker. Been here for three weeks.” \n\n“Mercedes has mentioned you.” \n\n“Nothing ill, I hope.” \n\nHenry bopped his head. “She’s mentioned you. I’m Henry.” \n\n“You’re old Benjamin’s son, from the farm over. And Mercedes’ dear sweetheart. Pleased to meet you.” \n\n“The one and only. Likewise.” \n\nMercedes seemed to retreat, letting her bangs of hair fall before her eyes. \n\n“When is the wedding?” Achilles asked. \n\nMercedes cleared her throat. “Not that it’s much of your business. But it is this fall. And then I’ll be all his.” \n\n“Oh,” Achilles said, without batting an eye. “So, until then you’re still a free girl.” \n\nMother made wide eyes, shifting them back and forth between Achilles and Mercedes. \n\nHenry bit his lip. “I’m not sure what you mean, Achilles.” \n\n“I just hope,” Achilles said, waving his fork. “That she’s had her chance to... see the world, before she gets saddled with you.” \n\n“Saddled?” Henry repeated. \n\nMercedes touched her fingers to her lips, as if containing soft anger. “Henry is all of my world. It’s just so. Simple.” \n\n“You say that,” Achilles said and stared off into the distance. “See, I’ve seen my fair share of the world. And it is big. Hefty. Us horses have a way with the size of things. We know where to delve, where to taste everything. And there are... hills to explore, high to low. Marriage might be best enjoyed after some travel. Take it from me. A sweet kitten deserves freedom proper, wouldn’t you say?”  \n\nI saw Mercedes blink, skewing her head lightly, as if her thoughts had trailed off. She shook her whiskers and focused, then straightened herself, glancing as if to see if anyone saw her lapse in composure. \n\nHenry seemed to shift, showing teeth, unsure how one managed to be angry. \n\n“Achilles,” mother said, her voice breaking. “Might it be that I should distract you, before your boyish charm runs away with you and nets you a quarrel. If you are done eating, I’ll show you where we keep needle and thread. And though I’m sure you know how to mend a glove, I can make sure you do it properly.” \n\nAchilles swallowed several bites. “Aye. That would be mighty kind of you.” \n\n“Children,” mother said, rising. “If you would be so kind and clear the table, I’ll show Achilles out.” \n\nShe pulled him up, and the two of them went out the door leading to the hallway. \n\n“Did he, uh,” Henry said. “Did he even bring the glove?” \n\n“I’m sure,” Mercedes said. \n\nI held my breath, as we heard the creaking sound of them not heading for the workshop, but up the stairs to the first floor. Decidedly quiet, as if not meaning to attract attention. They couldn’t possibly... Surely, mother had long ago learned that the loud arguments she’d had with father in their bedroom carried through the entire building. \n\n“On our farm,” Henry said. “I’ve been dreaming that...” \n\n“Shut up,” Mercedes hissed through her teeth. \n\nThere were thumps of mother and Achilles entering the master bedroom. Soft giggling. Surprised sighs. \n\n“You leave my daughter be,” mother said, her voice muffled. She was not exactly angry. “What will it take to make you behave?” \n\n“Might be that this misbehaving is the distraction I need.” \n\nHenry and Mercedes made wide eyes. I shifted my gaze, judging if I needed to act surprised. By my count, it was the third time they did it. They might have snuck one past me. I was already tired of feeling angry. \n\n“Mother,” Mercedes whispered. \n\n“Mister Hart,” mother gasped. “Don’t overstep.” \n\n“If you don’t want me to overstep. Then stop me.” \n\nThere was sound of furniture shifting over the floor. Clacking hooves taking their footing. Mother’s rolling purr, soon shifting to a long-winded gasp. \n\nAll of us sat frozen at the table, as the rhythmic thumping started. The furniture’s creaking kept time with my heartbeat. \n\n“Yes,” mother growled, her low voice clear in the rest of the house’s deafening silence. “I’m better than her anyway.” \n\nIf Achilles answered, I didn’t hear, as Mercedes put her palms over my ears, pushing with sudden desperation. “That’s enough of that,” I heard her say, as she pulled me up from the chair. \n\n“Hey,” I called, as she dragged me over the floor, to the front door. \n\nOnce outside, she released my ears, but kept a hold of my hand. We walked aimlessly, until she stopped, looking around to see that nobody was nearby. \n\nShe grabbed my shoulders and looked me in the eyes. “What uh... What you just heard. Mother and the farmhand. They were uh... They were just playfighting. And you shouldn’t... you shouldn’t mention it to others. Especially not to father. He would get mad that mother invited him to the table. Understand?” \n\nI stood blinking, marveling at her resolve. “I know what fucking is, Mercedes. Please.”  \n\nShe slapped me. “You watch your mouth.” \n\nI rubbed my cheek, feeling no real pain. “Why? All the others are saying it.” And doing it. \n\n“Because...” she said, folding her hands in front of her. “Because you’re not old enough. And... What mother is doing is bad. You understand that?” \n\nAnd so what? “Yes. I understand.”  \n\n“Good.” She leaned in and kissed my forehead. “Now... I guess we have to go clear the table.” \n\nI nodded. We walked back. I imagined Henry sitting alone with the noise above him. “Do you think Henry will mention it to father?” \n\nShe frowned. “I will talk to him. I can be... convincing.” \n\nI understood that father finding out would mean... that mother couldn’t live with us anymore. So, I hoped she was right. \n\n \n\n12.  \n\nThe dining room was silent when we returned. With idle talk we cleaned the dishes. Mother and Achilles were nowhere to be seen. Henry didn’t mention the noises they had heard, though his expression was stiff and there was further between nauseatingly sweet words. \n\n“I was thinking,” he said. “That I might stay the night.” \n\n“Always!” Mercedes said. “I’ll go prepare the guestroom.” \n\n“Even now?” He pouted. “When your father isn’t here.” \n\n“My room,” she said. “Is not for boys to sleep in.” She raised her nose to indicate that the statement required no justification.  \n\n“Fine.” \n\nAs Mercedes left, Henry and I sat at the clean table, looking expectantly at one another. \n\n“What about you?” he asked. “Do you want to get married? Or do you want to see the world first?” \n\n“I...” I wondered what he wanted to hear. “It depends who I’m marrying, I guess.” I wasn’t sure why you couldn’t see the world if you were married. \n\n“Sometimes...” he said. “I wonder if Mercedes thinks I’m too boring. Am I boring, Dalton?” \n\nThat didn’t sound like him. “Of course not. She really likes you.” I wasn’t sure I did.  \n\n“I know, but... What if things change?” \n\nI couldn’t form an answer before Mercedes reentered. “It’s ready!” \n\nIt was a while before bedtime. As the last daylight disappeared, I stayed, fearing the two would send me away in favor of privacy. But Mercedes seemed content keeping me within reach for now.  \n\nIn a bid to teach me to concentrate, Henry handily beat me in a game of chess. I was distracted by the thought of the pieces shifting into the shape of curvy women, and instead of capturing each other, the pieces fucked. As Henry’s knight moved in to capture my queen, all I could see was Achilles sweating against my mother, and her loving it. It shouldn’t have been so easy. \n\nFinally, I was sent off to bed. I retreated to my room, where I stubbornly shuffled the chess pieces back and forth on the board, before crawling under the sheets. \n\nAs I heard Mercedes enter her own room, I thought of what she had said. It was not true that boys were not allowed in her room. I had slept in her room, when I was younger. I felt the stubbornness rear up. I wanted to be close to a girl. And I could, if I wanted to. I slid out of bed and went into the hallway. I approached her door. I lifted my hand and hovered until I got angry at myself, before knocking. \n\nFor a moment I thought I was being ignored, before I heard her footsteps. She opened. She stood in her nightgown, and I was sure I could see through it. “Dalton? What is it?” She blinked in confusion. \n\n“I can’t sleep. Can I sleep in your room?” \n\n“Oh. Is it the thing with mother worrying you?” She sighed. “Aren’t you a little old not to be sleeping on your own?” \n\n“Oh, now I’m too old?” \n\nShe closed her eyes. “Alright then. Don’t tell anybody. Come in.” \n\nShe closed the door behind me. She climbed into bed and lifted the covers, nodding me ahead. I delved in and put my back against her. She put a hand on my side, hesitating before resigning to embracing me in full. She was warm against me. Those were her breasts in my back. \n\nI let my thoughts wonder, and I saw Henry before me, jealous that I was the one sleeping beside Mercedes. Behind me, I felt her falling asleep, her breath slowing. She retreated from the embrace and turned her back to me. Before disappointment could set in, I turned towards her. Her tail slipped between my legs. I held her, to see if she reacted to my touch.  \n\nWhen she didn’t, I pushed my crotch against her rear. I immediately felt myself getting hard and retracted before risking her complaining. When she didn’t show sign of noticing, I brought my hand down and touched my cock. I wouldn’t be able to sleep if I didn’t first let the velvet wash through me. \n\nI thought of mother and Achilles. I thought of what it would look like, if I had been the one she had dragged to her bedroom. I could have been panting between her breasts, spreading her ass, putting my cock into her. Pulling her tail, releasing my cum in her as she purred. \n\nWhy was I thinking of her? Mercedes was right in front of me. Lifting the covers, I could see the outline of her hip in the dim light. She was so white. I pulled on my cock and gritted my teeth when I made the bed shift. But I couldn’t stop myself. \n\nI took myself to a place where Mercedes in her sleep-addled mind lifted her dress. She sat down on my cock, letting me enter her, not conscious enough to realize that she was giving up her most precious gift, saved for Henry. We rubbed against each other in the darkness, fully resigned to forgetting everything by the morning. \n\nMy mind reeled. Soon I was Achilles, lifting Mercedes with my cock. He could make it happen. And it would be glorious and terrible. My thoughts escaped the fantasy as I shook. My cock shot its cum, and in the velvet rush, I loved the sight. It fell in curtains on her dress and tail, glistening in the shadows. \n\nMy breathing had gone frantic, and as it steadied, I once more feared she was awake, prepared to lash out. But she was still, simply breathing. \n\nShe would notice. She would wake up, her tail sticky, and she would know what happened. Or maybe she wouldn’t... I decided to hold on to that thought.  \n\nI turned my back and tried to sleep. \n\n  \n\n13. \n\nThe next morning, we all gathered around the table once more. We talked of the wonderful weather, as we ate honeyed oatmeal. Each of us seemed content to let yesterday remain in the past. \n\n“We were planning to take a walk down by the river,” Mercedes said as the table was clean once more. She was donning her silk gloves. \n\n“Can I come?” I asked. \n\n“We were hoping for some privacy,” Henry said. “We can play some ball later, if you want.” \n\n“Besides,” mother said. “You have chores to do. Father is going to throw a fit, if he comes home to find that all you’ve been doing is playing games.” \n\n“Fine.” That was what he’d be mad about, sure. \n\nThe sun was fierce, so Mercedes picked up her parasol and opened it over her and Henry. With arms intertwined, they walked down the hill. I watched hungrily. I wanted to be the one she was kissing and sighing at. \n\n“I’m going to go read,” I said, darting towards the hallway. \n\n“Remember your chores!” \n\n“Sure,” I called back, certain I would make it to about half of them. I made a pretense of opening and closing the door to my room and then continued out the backdoor. I was prepared to run the long way down to the river and make it before Mercedes and Henry. But I spotted Achilles down by the barn and stopped. He was talking to Nina, who stood under the barn’s cover. I saw money changing hands. For a moment I considered which pair I would rather spy on. Achilles had proven better at making things happen than Henry. But when Nina and Achilles left the scene in opposite directions, I hurried on. \n\nI went through the bushes covering the hills and into the cover of trees. I approached the sound of running water and slowed when I heard voices. I neared the ridge where I had looked at bathing girls before and crouched down before crawling on. \n\nI saw the parasol perched in the grass. Beneath it, Henry and Mercedes lay shoulder to shoulder, watching the water’s patterns over the glass-like rocks. Mercedes’ gloved fingertips traced the collar of Henry’s shirt. \n\n“It feels unfair,” Henry said. “To your father. I would have wanted to know.” \n\n“What about Dalton?” Mercedes said, and I cowered at my name. “Is it fair to him? To take his mother away?” \n\n“He’s getting too old to hang on his mother’s skirts so often.” He sighed. “But you’re right of course. A lapse in judgment... Shouldn’t ruin your home.” He huffed. “But God. The noise of it... It’s stuck in my head.” \n\n“You boys,” she said. “Once sex enters your mind. It just doesn’t leave.” \n\n“I’m sorry, alright?” He crossed his arms. “You have no idea how hard this waiting business is.” \n\n“It’s hard for me too...” She ran her finger over his pants. “Though not as hard as this. Holy... Do you not take care of yourself?” \n\n“I did... But the thought of you, Mercedes. It keeps... drilling in.” \n\n“We’ll take care of it.” She undid his belt. \n\nHis breath rose as his cock grew between her fingers. “Could we not... Do more? There are things the Lord wouldn’t frown at.” \n\n“No,” she said. “I say we wait. It’s final.” \n\n“At least use your mouth?” \n\n“No.” I couldn’t see derision in her face. Only pride. \n\nI was disappointed too. I had thought I’d see more than Henry’s cock and Mercedes’ hand around it. But I wasn’t going to leave. I brought out my own cock and tried to imagine that I was the one Mercedes was touching. \n\nShe pinched his cock between three fingers, brushing him with meticulous care. At first, I thought she did her best to touch him as little as possible. But her other hand cupping his balls told another story. She had done this many times before and knew just where to put pressure. \n\nHenry finished quickly. When his breathing turned to gasping, she held her hand up to shield him. The cum sprayed against her palm, and only little landed on his shirt. She held up her hand and fanned out her fingers, as if studying a bug. Between them a web of white hung, sliding in drops along her glove.  \n\nI felt as if I could read Henry’s thoughts in his sad eyes. Lick it. \n\nShe didn’t. She wiped her glove in the dry grass. She smiled. “Feel better?” \n\nHe nodded. They kissed, then rose from the grass. Beneath the parasol’s shade, they headed back towards the house. \n\nI stayed behind, still rubbing my cock. To the thought of my sister sucking her dripping fingers, I finished. With shaking legs, I got up. I stepped away and looked back at the cum I had spilled in the grass. It looked a lot better on Mercedes. \n\nI took the long way around. If someone saw me return, it would seem I had gone another direction entirely. I went by the fields, where the workers were sweating in the merciless sun. No one paid mind to me as I approached the house. \n\nI turned the corner, and my heart was sent into my throat as Henry stood before me. \n\n“There you are!” He juggled the old leather ball between his hands. “Did you want to play? I’m heading out shortly. I’m sure the chores can wait.” \n\n“I, uh...” With my frantic blinking, he had to know that I had seen something I wasn’t supposed to. But he simply smiled. “Sure. We can play.” \n\nWe went to the grassy end of the courtyard. We brought out four stumps of wood and placed them at each end as goal posts. As we started warming up by kicking the ball back and forth between us, Mercedes emerged from the house. \n\nShe greeted us with a dainty wave and sat down on the bench to the side. She pulled a nail file and began treating her claws. She seemed a beacon on light, shining over the playing field. \n\nWe started playing properly, trying our best to get the ball past the other, into the goal. We were evenly matched, though I had the feeling that he was going easy on me. Mercedes cheered when someone scored. \n\nWhen I was just about to score a winning goal, he leapt in with a reckless spinning kick. The ball flew, far off its mark. It tumbled downhill, rolling towards the barn. \n\n“Whoops!” he called. “That’s my bad. I’ll get it.” \n\nHe ran for it, while I stood awkwardly in place. \n\nHe picked it up and turned. He was stopped when Nina suddenly stood in front of him. She spun primly, her ears whirling about her. She embraced him, deftly navigating his hand to her breast in the same motion. Squeezing him, she kissed him soundly on the mouth. He dropped the ball. \n\n“Last night was amazing, Henry,” she said. “I didn’t know you had it in you. This bunny hasn’t ever felt that much like a woman.” \n\nMercedes was already storming towards them. She seemed blind to Henry pushing off Nina, hissing his deep-felt confusion. \n\nMercedes slapped him with a force I would have expected from a grown man. He nearly fell.  \n\n“Goodness,” Nina said and turned her back. She skittered off with lifted skirts. \n\nMercedes grabbed Henry’s ear, pulling him down. “Oh, that’s how you’re taking care of yourself, is it? I knew it.” \n\n“Listen, I...” \n\n“No, you listen! I thought you were different. I... I can’t look at you!” \n\nShe shook her head, turning away. Tears were staining her fur. She ran to the house. Henry followed her but was stopped by the door slammed before him. \n\nHe slouched on the spot and looked over his shoulder. Our eyes met. When he looked as if asking for help, I pulled up my shoulders in a shrug.  \n\n \n\n14. \n\nMother and I sat in the dining room, drinking tea, as we listened to Henry convincing Mercedes that it had been a misunderstanding. But she screamed that he had held her. He had kissed her, as if he was used to it. That she had never expected that a boy could wait.  \n\nHe begged her. It made no sense. Surely, she didn’t think he was that stupid? It had to be a prank. After half an hour, he succeeded. She came out from her room. They embraced. They kissed. \n\nYet she still told him that it was best if he left, coming back another day. He agreed. \n\nMercedes remained in her room as I went about my day, hoping I could be done with the busywork fast. Carrying water from the pump to the kitchen, I saw Achilles by Mercedes’ window. \n\nThis I had got to see. What was the plan? He’d obviously masterminded the fight earlier. The anger at his audacity was waning. I could see myself as him. Anything he could do... It would be the closest I'd get to Mercedes. \n\nI went the far way around the building, sitting down by the nearest corner. It seemed that Achilles was reinforcing the lower wooden boards of the building’s foundation. The removing of old wood yielded jarring creaks, and the hammering of nails went straight to the skull. \n\nI heard a window opening. The hammering stopped. “Do you have to do that now?” Mercedes asked, more tired than angry. \n\n“I have to do it some time, miss,” Achilles answered matter-of-factly. “It’s my job.” \n\nShe sighed sharply. “I’m a little on edge. It would help me with some peace and quiet.” \n\nHe made a faint chuckle. “You do look a bit beside yourself. Did something happen?” \n\nShe was quiet for a long moment. “I worry for father, is all. We should have heard from him by now.” \n\n“Sorry to hear it. As promised, we’re going hunting for news in town first thing tomorrow.” \n\n“You’re going?” \n\nHe laughed. “Why are you saying it like you’re expecting me to leave him dead in a ditch?” \n\n“I’m sorry, you just... have so many other things to think about.” \n\n“I’m not so selfish as you’re imagining. Want me to bring you something back from the market?” \n\n“Um.” Her voice softened. “Sugar taffy. That would be nice.” \n\n“Is that all? Don’t be afraid to boss me around. You’re royal blood to me.” \n\nShe huffed. “I’m not going to ask you to run around picking up dresses and jewelry for me.” \n\n“I suppose...” he said with a jovial laugh. “I will just have to guess what you’ll like then.” \n\n“I’d rather you... not.” \n\n“What, are you too good for presents now?” \n\n“Presents, Achilles... always come with strings attached.” I could imagine her piercing stare. \n\n“See how little you understand me.” He spoke with a meandering tone. “With you blue-bloods... There’s always strings attached. Every conversation is about what someone has said or done. What does he want? What does she think of me? How important am I? With rabble like me... There are no strings. You should try it some time.” \n\nShe hesitated, before whispering. “What you said... About seeing the world. You think it is silly... That Henry and I are waiting until marriage.” \n\n“Don’t put words in my mouth. I think it’s sad rather. I think I’d have a thing or two to teach you. But that’s my side of the fence.” \n\n“Because you’re so wise, is it?” \n\n“Seriously,” he said, suddenly solemn. “Lots of waiting, lots of dreaming. Not enough warming up. I had a friend at the orphanage. She kept talking about going to sail the ocean when we grew up. She refused to step into any row boat. No, it had to be a real ship with mast and sail, all that. Then we finally went. Biggest ship you’ve ever seen. She threw up, day in, day out. Now she hates the ocean.” \n\nShe was silent again. “Maybe she didn’t find the right ship.” \n\n“Maybe the ocean isn’t that great to begin with. Dream too much, you’re going to tell yourself a story that’ll never happen.” \n\n“You shouldn’t be in the business of taking people’s dreams from them.” \n\n“Oh, Mercedes. Feel at your heart and tell me I’m taking dreams away.” He tapped the wood with an air of finality. “I’ll do the refurbishing later.” There were sounds of him gathering up tools. \n\n“See you.” Her voice faltered. \n\nI leaned out to peek. He left, walking towards the living quarters. She hung out the window, resting on her elbows, staring. \n\n \n\n15. \n\nIn the evening, I snuck into Achilles’ room. I hid in the closet, among his hanging clothes. Why? A gut feeling, for one. I was convinced I was cursed, blessed, or haunted. Wherever I went, I managed to catch glimpses of sex. Either I had unearthly luck, or I was causing it to happen. I was curious to find out. \n\nAs I sat in the sliver of light, guilt was setting in. I didn’t tell Henry or Mercedes that I had seen Achilles pay off Nina. And now I was waiting for Achilles’ plan to carry out, as if I were impressed by it. Surely, God wasn’t impressed. \n\nBut then, if he was watching... Why was he showing me all this? \n\nI had been sitting still for what felt like an eternity, when Achilles returned from his workday. I was determined to stay until morning if necessary. Either way, it was too late to change my mind. \n\nI leaned against the slit of light, watching him go about what looked like a rehearsed routine. He brought in a pail of water. He lit the small stove and set some to boil in a tall kettle. He took off all his clothes. I averted my eyes at first, but then reconsidered. I bit down and studied him. I understood why girls seemed captivated by horses. Nina... Then mother. It wasn’t only that charm. \n\nHis cock dangled as he moved lazily around. He wrung rags of cloth in the hot water and poured the rest back into the pail. He sat on the bed, dipping his hooves and washing his face. He stretched for a box, contorting not to pull his hooves from the water. In it was tobacco and rolling paper. He rolled a cigarette. After lighting it, he pulled a tiny book from the box. He smoked and read. The air closed in around me in the closet, and I fought not to cough. \n\nHe spoke to himself. A foreign language. Spanish? Was he practicing with a dictionary? \n\nFinally, there was a knock on the door. He made a long exasperated sigh, before rising. He dragged water along the floor to the door and cracked it open. “Hello there.” \n\nMercedes’ voice rang. “Oh you’re... I’m sorry to interrupt. I was just wondering if you’ve seen Dalton around? We haven’t seen him since dinner, and he’s skipped out on some chores. We’re worried, is all.” \n\nHe opened the door by another inch and leaned closer. “Are you really...? Wondering if I’ve seen your brother? He’s probably just skulking around in the brook, looking at bathing girls. I don’t see why he would be here.” \n\nI could barely see her tucking her chin in in embarrassment. “I uh... There was also. At the market tomorrow. Could you get me um. Could you get me um.” \n\n“Come inside, instead of pussyfooting.” \n\n“But you’re... You don’t have...” \n\nHe opened the door in full and walked back to his pail. “Come in or don’t.” He sat down, dipping his hooves. \n\nShe looked about her, as if wanting to make sure she wasn’t seen. She entered and carefully closed the door behind her. She leaned against it, her eyes closed as she breathed in. \n\nShe stepped out before him, facing him, but pointedly looked everywhere else. “I was... I was thinking.” \n\nHe made no effort to cover up. “Out with it.” \n\n“So,” she said, bringing her palms together, as if praying. “Ever since I was little... I’ve dreamt of getting married. I want it to be perfect. When I met Henry, it was a sure thing. He wanted the same thing. We’ve talked about it... a lot. Henry especially... He’s talked about what he expects of the wedding night. And I... I’m afraid that I’ll disappoint him.” She pointed at him. “You’re a horse.” \n\nHe bared a wide grin. “That I am.” \n\n“Sorry... The other girls. They always talk about horses... I always turn up my nose. Tell them that they are being raunchy. Foul-mouthed. But the thought... it is like a mosquito humming in your ear, as you try to sleep. So, I thought...” She shivered. “What’s the harm in a little practice?” \n\n“No harm,” he said. “No strings. I can keep a secret.” \n\n“Ah,” she said, suddenly smiling. “No one would believe you anyway.” \n\n“I scarcely would either. Go ahead. I’m here for whatever you need.” \n\nShe hesitated a moment, before going to the door to lock it. She went back to him and finally looked between his legs. She took a breath of resolve. She grabbed her skirts and went to her knees before the pail. \n\nAre you really going to do it? I hated the thought. Her surrendering. But I also loved it... It was almost as if she was kneeling before me. \n\n“Whatever happens...” she said, putting her fingertips to his knees. “I’m leaving here... pure.” \n\nHe raised his eyebrows. “Suit yourself.” \n\nShe reached out, retracted, but then put her palm around his cock. It grew in her hand. “My... It’s so. Big.” At her three-finger grip, it suddenly became too heavy and slid down. She put both palms to it and lifted it towards her face. She kissed it. “The smell...” she said, as if undecided on it. \n\n“It’s a lot,” he said. “You’re supposed to feel... like you shouldn’t do it.” \n\n“Like eating too much sugar.” She leaned in again. She put her lips to the tip and took it into her mouth. She pulled with a determined grip, and his skin shifted, creasing against her. She rolled her tongue around it, as if pretending it was a heartfelt kiss. She hummed, almost as if she was eating her sugar toffees. With a smack of her lips and drool falling, she pulled away.   \n\n“I like this,” she said, stroking its underside with her fingertips. She looked up. “Isn’t it tiresome? People looking at a horse... and seeing something to fuck...” \n\n“You’d think,” he said. “But it gets girls like you on my cock. How could I mind?” \n\nShe leaned closer, hugging it between her palm and cheek. “How am I doing?” \n\n“Don’t think about it. I promise, Henry will love it.” \n\nShe put her hand to his balls and ran her tongue from base to tip. She took on a sly look and wound her fingers around the sack, squeezing. \n\n“If you do that,” he said, gritting his teeth. “I’ll finish.” \n\n“So?” \n\n“So, I’ll make a mess on your pretty face.” \n\n“That’s alright,” she said, pulling down on his balls as her strokes went rapid. She pressed her tongue against his tip. “Ahn.” \n\nHe groaned, his voice breaking. He took her moving hand. “There, pull down, holding tight in place.” \n\nShe did, and his cock twitched. It strained against her hand and the cum burst out, unrelenting. She held her panting mouth open in surprise, and in the repeated downpour, none of her face seemed to avoid the splash. Her curls of hair. Her eyelashes. \n\nThe stream died down and she sat, unable to control her breathing. Her eyes were anxious as her fingers stretched for her face, unsure if they could help her from what she had landed herself in. \n\n“God,” she whimpered. “It’s... Ah!” She shuddered, waves radiating through her fur. Finally, she steadied. She reached out for the rag he was holding out. She wiped herself with small, deliberate motions, as if she had eaten a meal with the same composure. Not close to clean, she set the cloth aside. She poked his cock, smaller now. “Don’t tell me that was it.” \n\n“Treat a man like that. He’s going to need a moment.” \n\n“Careful. A moment too long, I’ll change my mind.” \n\n“I guess we’ll give you a turn.” He rose, spilling water from the pail. He pointed to the bed. “However you’re most comfortable.” \n\nShe crawled onto the bed. Seeming unsure what he had meant, she placed her breasts against the sheets, arching her back. “What... what are you going to do?” \n\n“Reciprocate. I’ll be careful about your... sensibilities, don’t you fret.” He pulled her skirts up, and she helped by lifting a leg at a time. “Stop me, if I go too far.” He pulled down her underwear and spread her ass. He pushed his snout in and licked.  \n\nMy eyes were fixed on the valley, as he caressed it with his tongue... I hadn’t gotten so clean a look before. It was where men couldn’t go before marriage. God would be dissatisfied, but he had let it go on this far, so I didn’t imagine it would stop now. \n\n“Remember,” he said. “Little Henry can’t do this.” \n\nHer lifted tail flicked and wrapped around his head. She stifled a hiss. If she was too loud, she would repeat mother’s blunder. Someone might hear. I squeezed my cock. Squeal. Give in.   \n\nHe raised his hand and let his thumb help stretch her, his tongue reaching deep. The thumb slid up to the hole beneath her tail. She made no complaint. His tongue slipped and ran to the base of her tail. He paused, listening. \n\n“Don’t... stop,” she said and brought her hand down between her legs. She touched the valley. “This... is for Henry.” Her fingers moved to the hole above. “You can go here.” \n\n“Right.” He let his tongue drip, and his thumb delved inside. \n\nShe hissed, pulling away. After a moment, she pushed back again. “Gentle.” \n\nHis hand reached for his cock, rising again. “It’ll hurt.” \n\n“I’m a big girl.” \n\nHe sent his tongue in where his thumb had gone, and I felt faint revulsion, soon drowned out by the velvet looming in my limbs. His fingers grazed her below, expertly searching for where to push. \n\nShe trembled with a primal groan and sunk down panting. “Fuh. Was that... an orgasm?” \n\n“My, girl,” he said. “You’re the easiest mark I’ve had. You’ve been starving. Come the wedding, Henry needs to hold on for life.” \n\nShe spoke into the sheets. “How... how many girls... like me. Have you been with?” \n\n“Virgins? Ten. Of them, you’re the prettiest.” She trembled again. “And oh so receptive. Turn around. Trust me.” She put her back against the bed. “Knees as close to your shoulders as possible.” She raised her legs and held them down with her hands. He lifted his cock and rested it against the hole she’d allowed. “Hold your breath.” \n\nShe breathed in swiftly. He put in his weight. She opened around him, and her eyes widened. She grabbed a pillow and clutched it before her face, biting the fabric. \n\nGentle as asked, he moved against her. Her rear clenched around him, and her tail swung between his legs, curling around his. \n\n“There,” he said. “It’s inside you. Do you feel lucky?” \n\n“I... I...” \n\n“Are you imagining I’m Henry?” \n\n“Yes.” \n\nHe held his hand to her face and pushed her cheeks together. “Don’t. That won’t make you good again. Admit it.” \n\nShe turned the whites of her wet eyes. “God. I’m a tramp.” She squeezed the pillow with all her force. \n\n“Father would be disappointed. His little girl goes dumb over a horse cock. Say it again. It makes me harder. You’re a tramp.” \n\n“I’m a tramp.” Her legs folded around him and pulled him in closer. What resistance held back his cock was fading. He moved, losing his composed reflexes, turning wild. Half of him was inside. \n\n“This isn’t enough for you, is it?” he said. “No one will find out. Say the word.” \n\n“No,” she said, though her slithering body seemed to disagree. “I can’t.” \n\n“Stubborn tramp, you are. You’ll already regret this...” \n\n“Maybe... maybe just a little.” \n\n“No such thing. Say you want it.” He pulled his length out of her, needing to take a step back. \n\n“I...” She mumbled into the pillow. \n\nHe ripped it from her hands and tossed it aside. “Don’t hide.” He brushed her hair from her face. “I didn’t quite catch that.” \n\n“I want it.” \n\nHe lifted his cock and poised it against the place she’d forbidden, slipping inside with no resistance.  \n\nThere was a sinking feeling in my stomach. Yes. You’re his now.  \n\nThough her legs held him locked in place, she hid her face behind her hands. \n\nHe grabbed her wrists and pulled them aside. “Look at me. This is all you’ll ever need. Come the wedding night, you’ll think of me.” \n\nHer mouth hung open, unable to form words. \n\n“You’re ruined. You and your unfaithful little snatch don’t even care anymore. Stop me. Say you don’t want my cum.” \n\n“I...” Her voice failed her. “I want... I want...” \n\nBefore she could answer in full, he put his lips to hers. Joining in the kiss, she howled. The rigorous motion came to a stop, his body taut against hers. Their tails twisted around one another. He twitched. The white spilled out of her, pooling in the sheets. \n\nThey kept breathing, mouths locked. Her eyes closed. As if she was content. She purred, a drawn out, rolling noise. You never purr. \n\nI had finished too. I glanced down, finding I had stained Achilles’ clothes. I wasn’t sorry about it. I was sorry for Mercedes. I knew she loved Henry. \n\nGlancing out again, Achilles had risen from her. She pushed herself up and looked down herself. The cum, still spilling. “Oh... What have we done?” \n\n“Sex, of the worst sort,” he said, rolling a cigarette. “Want more?” \n\nShe narrowed her eyes and sighed. “Yes.”  \n\nHe lit the cigarette. He shared it with her, and she coughed, but endured. I kept expecting her to come to her senses. To show a sign that she felt regret like me. To rise and storm out, doing her everything to forget. \n\nWhen the cigarette was finished, he pulled her in close. They kissed, lips tasting one another’s tongues. She pulled off her dress. He grabbed one of her breasts. \n\nShe leaned back and pulled him on top of her. He entered her again.  \n\n“Ask me...” she whispered. “Ask me to forget Henry.” \n\n“Forget Henry. And love me.” \n\nThey fucked, less rigorous. He lifted her, bending her limbs to his whim. He did what he had wanted... Carried her atop his cock, against the wall. When he placed her sideways, lifting her leg, I had something of a view. The excitement overshadowed the regret. \n\nHe finished on her belly. I finished with them. Let it be me next time. Hear me God. \n\nThey lay, holding each other. As if meaning to go to sleep. Suddenly, Mercedes’ eyes shot open. Then she relaxed. She rose from the bed and started putting on her clothes. “That was nice,” she said. “But let’s not speak of it again.” She evened out the creases of her dress. \n\n“Again,” he said. “Suit yourself. Remember, if nothing else: you’re lovely.” \n\nShe nodded. She unlocked the door and watched carefully, before sneaking outside. \n\nAs he sat up in the bed, rolling another cigarette, I felt another sort of regret. Regret that I wouldn’t be able to leave, before he was fast asleep. Maybe not even then. \n\nHe sighed, setting aside the cigarette. He rose and went to the closet. I almost bit off my tongue as the doors opened, and I was pulled out. I stood with my pants around my legs. \n\n“You filthy cuckold...” he said. “You are very lucky that your sister didn’t hear you, panting in there. From one deranged pervert to another. These things always come back to bite you. So, get used to getting caught... Or be a better person. Understand?” \n\nI nodded frantically, pulling up my pants. \n\n“Go do your chores. Your family is worried.” \n\n“Yes, thank you.” I went to the door. As my sister had, I looked both ways, before sneaking into the evening shadows. \n\n \n\n16. \n\nThe following day went by slowly. Mother, sister, and I waited in the courtyard for the riders to return with news of father. Mercedes looked like herself. I couldn’t see if she was recalling last night. \n\n She would probably go on to marry Henry, having managed to bury the memory. If so, Achilles’ had lied. And it wouldn’t come back to bite him. Which was somehow disappointing. Something so draining could not be allowed to happen... not without the sky falling down. \n\nI hoped she didn’t hate herself for what had happened. If she did, I would tell her it was somehow all my fault. I would keep on until she believed me. \n\nFinally, the riders appeared. All of them. They weren’t returning just with news. Father was with them. \n\nAs they unsaddled, the farm’s workers poured out of the buildings. Mercedes rushed to father’s embrace. “Welcome back!” \n\n“And good seeing you all,” he said, going to meet mother’s embrace. “I had not expected it to be so long an outing.” \n\n“What happened?” mother asked, stepping back to push me ahead. \n\nI hugged him, though I was nervous. As if he through God would be able to feel what I had seen. \n\n“Long story short,” father said. “The mayor is alright. We found him on our second day, down near where the rockslides tore up a patch of forest last year. He had a broken leg and couldn’t move. We carried him to the other town over. He was patched up, looked over by doctors until he was cursing them out of the room. I tried to send a message back, but it seems it got lost in transit. I’m glad to see nothing burned down, while I was gone. I can go into depth later. For now, I’m starving.” \n\n“Good!” mother said, taking his hand. “I’ll go put the bread in the oven. We have freshly churned butter.” \n\n“And I brought some sausage back. Things are looking up. Achilles, would you do me the favor of dragging old Betsy to the stables?” \n\nAchilles nodded. “Right away sir.” \n\nWe went to our places around the table inside. We filled our stomachs while father told in full how the trip to Eamington had cost them a full five days. As someone accustomed to telling lies, I noticed a hole in the story. They hadn’t all needed to stay by the mayor’s side. Someone could have gone back with the news. But I stayed quiet. \n\n“What about here?” father asked. “Anything out of the ordinary happen?” \n\nMother and Mercedes’ eyes shifted over the room. \n\n“No,” Mercedes said. \n\n“No,” mother said. “Same old farm you left.” She smiled wide. \n\nI almost chuckled, but remembering Achilles’ reprimand for me, I kept quiet. \n\n“Well, no news is good ne–… What in the...” Father’s eyes were fixed on something he had seen outside, through the window. He rose and went out the door. \n\nThe rest of us stretched, to see what he had seen. Two were embracing in front of the barn. We gave each other confused looks. We rose and went after father. \n\nWe made it in time to see father grab Achilles’ shoulder, tearing him away from Nina. \n\n“Sir!” father called. “What do you have to say for yourself?” \n\nAchilles smiled, as if he thought it was a joke. He gestured from Nina, back to our family. “I don’t know what to say, exactly. It was a... Private moment. I was not expecting to be... interrupted.” \n\n“Well!” father said, his ears lowered in fury and his tail a bristle. “It is inappropriate behavior and no way to treat the other residents. I had heard of it, but now I have seen it with my own eyes. This will have consequences, Achilles.” \n\nAchilles looked to Nina with a begging expression. \n\nNina took on an affronted look. “Yes! That’s right, you pervert. Stay off me.” With hands made fists at her sides, she rushed off from the scene. \n\nAchilles fanned out his arms in disbelief. “You God damn...” \n\n“And taking the Lord’s name in vain. It does not speak well for you. You know, I had wanted to give you a chance, with the complaints we’ve been getting, but now I don’t see much of a choice. I’m going to have to let you go.” \n\nAchilles looked at the gathering. Realizing we couldn’t help him, his expression changed to vengeful. “Uh-huh. I see what’s happening. You confess about your little pleasure trip to me, thinking it’ll make you feel better about having slept with those whores. Then you get paranoid, afraid I might rat on you. Only way you see is to throw me out. But hey. Now I don’t feel so bad about sleeping with your wife.” \n\nFather stepped forward. \n\n“Hey,” Mercedes called. She rushed in between the two of them. “Calm down, before someone says something they’ll regret.” \n\n “Dear Mercy,” father said, putting his arms around her. “You don’t need to defend him. He’s a vile, lying, son-of-a-bitch.” \n\nAchilles took a step closer. Mercedes turned in father’s arms, pushing him back. Father took her by the shoulders, as if meaning to push her aside, but she held her spot. \n\n“And you know what,” Achilles said. “Not just your wife. Your little daughter... Your betrothed little porcelain doll. She couldn’t help herself last night.”  \n\nFather froze at the words. Mercedes folded her hands before her, making wide eyes at the ground. \n\nYou wouldn’t. \n\n“She snuck into my room. And she begged for it... For this horse to ram her. To spit on her. To go deeper up her asshole than that piss-stain of a boy Henry ever would. She sucked on me, I sprayed over her. She shuddered as my seed filled her. She’s spoiled, and she’s not even sorry. Good luck marrying off that whore now.” \n\nMercedes looked ready to crumble where she stood. \n\nFather’s fists had steadily tightened at her shoulders, as if he could have crushed her in shame. He leapt forth, Mercedes tumbling aside. His fist collided with Achilles’ chin, sending him stumbling into the wall. \n\nAchilles steadied himself and spat to the side. “Good show, old man. Won’t unfuck either of them.” \n\n“Get your things,” father said. “If you hurry, I might not have time to load the shotgun. I swear to God.”  \n\n“Fine.” Achilles cracked his neck and walked off with long steps, aiming for his room.  \n\nFather took Mercedes’ hand. “Are you alright, dear?” \n\n“Father,” she said, sniveling. “He’s lying. I don’t know why he would say those things. But I... I’m...” Tears rolled from her eyes. \n\n“I know he’s lying. He wanted to hurt me. The twisted thing. God have mercy on him...”  \n\nMother wore a stiff expression and finally decided to get a word in. “I tried to have a talk with him, but it seems to have only made him spiteful. We can’t let it ruin our evening. Come on. Let’s go inside.” \n\nI followed the others. None of them cared about my fury. \n\nI had thought Achilles was like me. But he was not. He was evil. No strings, he had said, only to sell out Mercedes, who deserved nothing but happiness. \n\nAnd I had let it happen. I should have been the one punching Achilles to the ground. \n\nBut I would keep doing nothing. It was what I was best at. No one expected more from a kid. \n\n \n\n17. \n\nI stood in in the middle of town. There were no people, only a tumbleweed crossing the road. “Is this a dream?” I asked. “It is.” The buildings were in the wrong places. Some buildings didn’t have windows.  The ground shifted, as if it were a sea. I was good a recognizing these things. \n\nAt my hip was a gun. I was a gunslinger. \n\nI wasn’t alone. At the end of the road were the gallows. A podium with dangling ropes above. I walked closer. On a stool with rope tightened around her neck was a beautiful white hind with antlers. Before her were two other gunslingers, standing on each side of the road, facing one another. Wolves with their hands hovering over their revolvers. \n\nI was in a stand-off. \n\n“I save her,” one said. \n\n“You don’t have the guts,” the other said. \n\n“What about me?” I said. \n\nNone of them noticed me. I shifted my gaze from one dead expression to the other, my anger growing by each moment. I snarled and pulled my gun. I shot one and then the other. But neither reacted. My bullets seemed to pass through them as if through air.  \n\nThe two wolves pulled their guns. They fanned the hammers, shooting six shots each. Their chests opened like blooming roses, and they both fell to the ground. \n\nI shrugged and went ahead. The hind turned up her blue eyes as I approached her. “I save you?” I said, making it a question. \n\n“Will you?” she said. “I think you won’t. You will just stand by.” \n\nI had a mind to prove her wrong. I shot for the rope above her, tied to her neck. My bullet once more went through air. \n\n“I’m right here,” she said. “Save me.” \n\nI stepped closer. But instead, I ended up further away. How? I tried again, but the distance to the hind only grew. I could cry. “Help me.” \n\n“Help you?” \n\nThe podium collapsed beneath us, and we fell into a living room, landing in a lounge chair. I was nested in the hind’s lap, tiny. A mere kitten. Her breasts swelled above me, ready to pull out of her dress. \n\n“You want milk?” she asked. “Poor baby boy.” \n\nI nodded. But she just looked at me. \n\n“Why won’t you help me?” \n\n“My sweetheart,” she said. “Just reach out. And take it. Nothing comes unearned.” \n\nI grabbed a hold of the edge of her dress. I pulled down and out popped another darkness that swallowed up us both. \n\nWe stood on the floor of the town’s church. The hind waited at the altar. She wore a brilliant golden halo, ensnaring her antlers. She fanned out wings spread in a serrated pattern, like stars of the purest velvet. She blinded my vision. She was an angel. \n\n“I am tired of watching,” I said, not even daring to walk. “Hiding. Never participating.” \n\n“What makes you think it needs to be that way?” \n\n“I am a child. They would scoff at me. Tell me to go play.”  \n\n“Dalton. Sweetheart. You have all the gifts of a sharpshooter; the wit, the keen eye, the charm. But you have simply not used it. You have chosen to stand by and watch.” \n\n“Have I?” \n\nShe nodded. \n\n“Then let me fuck you,” I said. “Stand still, you whore.” \n\nShe giggled. “Not all girls like to be demeaned and spat on. You are lucky that I do. So do it. Fuck me.” She let her robes fall, baring her brilliant white body. \n\nWith a hunger, I stepped closer. Her wings folded in hesitation. She took a step back, covering her breasts with her hands. “Uh-uh.” She blinked, batting her eye-lashes. \n\nI stood still, once again struck by helplessness. \n\n“Just kidding,” she said. She took my hand and pulled me into her embrace. “My boy.” We fell into velvet arrangements under the altar’s decorations. I pulled out my cock, with all the grace of a kid. I slithered in between her legs and felt myself slide into place. She gasped in surprise. \n\nAn angel... I had taken an Angel’s virginity. What was her name? I felt it was Parisa. \n\n“Parisa,” I said. “You’re wonderful.” I put my mouth to her nipple. I drank her milk. It was mine.  \n\n“Easy,” she said. “This is a dream. You’re on your own when you wake.” \n\n“Shut up,” I said and pulled out of her. I turned her around, as if she had no weight. \n\n“Oh my,” she said, lifting her rear towards me. “So bossy.” \n\nI stuck my cock up the other hole. I slapped her. She moaned, as if she loved me. \n\nIt wasn’t long before I pulled out and turned her again. I took her by the antlers and pulled her to my crotch. I rubbed my balls on her nose. I didn’t even stick my cock behind her lips. She was too pretty. I couldn’t contain myself. I burst. My cum flew and painted her, white upon white. She was even prettier. \n\n“Good boy,” she said. And the world faded for the last time. \n\nI woke in my bed. I lifted my covers and found a wet stain on my underwear. I sighed and began the arduous journey of getting out of bed. \n\n \n\n18. \n\nIt had been a week. Achilles had long since cleaned out his room and walked down the road to town. He had not shown himself since. I supposed he had gotten everything he wanted. Left were the Callaghan girls, seeming somewhat more sullen than usual. \n\nI felt invigorated. It might be the space Achilles had left. It might be that I wasn’t so scared of my father, knowing he couldn’t keep men off his wife. I was set to split wood and had gone through the reserve in two days. I touched the horseshoe on my cheek. Time to bring me fortune.  \n\nParisa sat on my shoulder, an imaginary friend I wouldn’t trade for anything. A lightning bug in the corner of my eye. When I complimented her trailing wings, she rubbed her breasts, whinnying in pleasure. It was time to go discovering. \n\nIt had been while since I’d attended lessons with Nina. \n\nFather had heard of the incident between her and Henry. It unraveled without my need to admit I had seen Achilles pay her.  \n\nShe admitted that it had just been meant as a joke. She was brought against the wall in the common room and apologized formally to Henry and Mercedes. There was talk that firing her would have been the right thing to do. But somehow, her behavior wasn’t deemed as inappropriate as Achilles’. I suspected it had something to do with her being a woman. She kept working, but I noticed that others stayed clear of her if they could help it.  \n\nWhen our next lesson was due, I found her in the common room, staring into several open books. She rested on her elbows, fingers gripping at her hair. A bottle of rum stood open within arm’s reach, and I could smell it on her breath.  \n\n“What’s the matter?” I asked, sitting down at her side. “Miss the farmhand?” Maybe Trick wouldn’t even give her the time of day. It might be that this was the time for sweettalk. \n\nShe shook her head. “Cole wants me to teach you botany. I know jack about botany. I don’t get paid enough for this.” \n\n“So what?” I said. “We’ll say you taught me. We do something else.” I scooted closer to her on the bench. \n\n“What’s the difference between these two mushrooms?” She showed me the page of the book, adjusting her glasses. “I just don’t see it. Apparently, one will kill you.” \n\nOne mushroom clearly had a longer, more rugged stem. I ignored the question and went with my instincts instead. If they steered me off course, then so be it. “What’s a cuckold?” \n\nShe blinked frantically, caught off guard. “I... uh. Buddy. Why do you ask?” \n\n“Someone called me a cuckold. What does it mean?” \n\nShe made a tight frown. “I... poor thing. I’m not sure I should say.” \n\n“You’re my teacher. Teach me.” \n\nShe rolled her hand, searching for words. “A cuckold is uh... A man. Who is raising someone else’s kid, you see?” \n\n“So, she cheated on him? Alright.” I thought back to when I had been hiding in Achilles’ room. I had thought he had meant to insult me for watching. Had he implied that Mercedes had cheated on me? It was almost a compliment, then. “Does a cuckold watch her cheating on him?” \n\n“I’ve heard some men enjoy that sort of thing...” She shook her head, remembering to compose herself. “Dalton. You shouldn’t be asking these things.” \n\nDon’t act so prim. “Does your boyfriend enjoy you cheating on him?” \n\nHer eyes turned wide. “I... he... You rascal. I’m not... I wouldn’t.” \n\n“I saw you in the barn. With Trick and Achilles. You asked if you could suck me off.” \n\nShe sat back, stunned. In her silence, she seemed to remember. “I’m... I’m sorry, Dalton. That was not appropriate.” \n\nNow she’s sorry? “It’s alright.” \n\n“You won’t... Tell Cole, right?” \n\nI narrowed my eyes. “But your boyfriend wouldn’t mind?” \n\nShe giggled in disbelief. “Are you... Blackmailing me?” \n\nI could, probably. “No, I’m just curious. And I’m tired of just being a kitten. I saw you with cum on your face. Is your boyfriend a cuckold?” \n\n“No, he’s not.” \n\nAt my shoulder, Parisa nodded for me to go on. “Would you like him to be?” I put my hand on Nina’s thigh. \n\nShe shivered. “What’s gotten into you? This is weird, Dalton. I should teach you some manners.” \n\n“Yes.” I lowered my ears in a predatory gesture and swept my tail so it curled around the bush of hers. “Teach me. Someone has to. Would it be so bad?” \n\n“Teach you about... sex? You’re actually asking for...” \n\nHer words, not mine. “Please.” As I leaned my nose against her bosom, I purred. Every cat’s secret weapon. \n\n“I... Damn it, why am I being so holy? It’s better than mushrooms.” She looked over her shoulder and whispered. “Follow me.” \n\nShe pulled me up by my hand, grabbed the rum with the other, and we went outside. With our heads low, we headed to the barn. I heard nothing but my heart pounding in my ears. She aimed for the backmost booth. Inside was a tall bed of hay.  \n\nShe pointed. “Sit down. Little brat.” \n\nI did as told, afraid that anything I said might cause my luck to run out.  \n\nShe drank from the bottle of rum, before crouching down. She set it aside and neared me, managing a dangerous gaze, even with round cheeks and round glasses. “First time?” \n\nI nodded. \n\n“How old are you again?” She started undoing my pants. \n\n“Thirteen next week.” \n\n“It’s probably tiny.” When my pants slipped down and my cock fell out, hard as ever, she smiled. “Could be worse.” \n\nThis was where I should put her in place. Punish her. But all my confidence seemed gone. I reached out for the bottle and holding it to my lips, I waited for her to tell me I shouldn’t be drinking. She simply looked impatient, and I drank. Coughing, I set the bottle down. \n\n“Nervous?” \n\nI shook my head. \n\nShe showed her buckteeth in a grin, not believing me. “You asked for it.” She held up my cock and touched her nose to it. I shook. “What have you been imagining? Little pervert.” \n\nPutting my cock into her mouth. Ever since that night. I touched my palm to her ear. I had never touched her ear before. I had barely hugged her. I pulled her closer. \n\n“Hm.” She closed her eyes. “I said I would.” She opened her mouth and leaned forth. I felt her saliva, at once hot and cold against me. Her tongue beneath. The tip of her buckteeth above. \n\nI lost control of my breathing. Already, the rum seemed to be making me dizzy. \n\nShe toyed with me. She retreated, when I shook the most, only barely putting her hand to use. Then she swallowed me up, slowly from the tip down. She fitted my balls into her mouth, and the wet sensation sent my mind reeling.  \n\n“Are you imagining I’m your boyfriend?” I said, meaning to make it humiliating, like Achilles had. But instead, I felt meek. \n\n“His name is Eric,” she said, squeezing me. “And sure, you’re making a cuckold of him, young master.” \n\nI had only seen Eric once, but I imagined he was furious about Nina’s habits. Young master. I liked that. “Lay down,” I said. “Spread your legs.” \n\n“So much for teaching,” she said. “You already know the basics.” She rolled over beside me. She pulled off her underwear and spread her legs as instructed. \n\nI crawled in between them. Nina was short and plumb, but she suddenly towered over me. Once I had feared her reprimands. Again, I felt she could ruin me, if she wanted. Focus. “Your breasts. Show me.” \n\n“Call them tits,” she said, pulling down her dress. \n\nThey fell out, and I could not keep my hands away. They could not fit in my palms. I lifted a nipple to my mouth and sucked. As she moaned, I felt victorious. \n\n“I’ll put my cock...” I said. “Inside your...” I hesitated. \n\n“Call it a cunt, if you must.” \n\nI would take her in the cunt. I pressed my hips forward, sliding my nose from between her breasts, up her neck. My body started humping, before I told it to. \n\n“Easy,” she said. “You won’t impress a girl with that accuracy.” She reached down, and I felt her fingers around my cock. Her other hand in my back pulled me in and suddenly I felt tremendous warmth envelop me. I was inside. The velvet waves took me, and I was afraid it would be over in moments. \n\nShe seemed to read my expression. “Take deep breaths. Go slow and tighten your stomach.” \n\nEnough teaching. I knew my way from here. “Shut up. Dumb bunny.” \n\nShe breathed happily, her hand in my hair, pressing me against her. “Dear me. Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” \n\nI thought back to that night. Kiss my mother? I looked into her eyes, gathered my courage, and put my lips to hers. For a moment, I was in love with her. My annoying teacher. Her tongue slipped into my mouth, and I pushed back. \n\nI felt I was good at kissing. The look she gave me when I pulled away told me to feel proud. \n\n“Mommy,” I whispered, pushing my nose beneath her drooping ear. “Can I... Can I finish inside?” \n\nShe made her primal groan, less composed than she’d been with Achilles. “No. But do it anyway.” Her legs folded around me, and the feeling of warmth was complete. \n\nWhat if she got with child? That’s what cum did. Achilles hadn’t cared, so neither would I. I stretched, letting the velvet overtake me. I felt my cock release in her, heartbeat for heartbeat. For once, my cum went where it should. My pride burned. There was no regret. \n\nI became limp on top of her. What now? \n\nShe kissed me repeatedly, small pecks on my forehead, hair, and ears. “There, sweetheart. I made a man of you.” She sighed and leaned back. “Whew. I can cross that off my list.” Had I been on a list?  \n\nShe patted my back, as if to signal for me to get off. I didn’t want to pull out of her. “I want to do it again.” \n\nShe nodded in understanding. “We need to get back in, before your real mommy starts wondering why we’re not studying.” \n\nNo! I didn’t want to. \n\nShe put a hand in my shoulder and pushed me off. “Stubborn brat.” \n\nI crawled away, feeling the shame looming after all. \n\nShe handed me my pants and kissed me again. “It’s cute. But don’t overdo it.” \n\nI nodded. I was at a loss as for how I’d manage to get any studying done again, ever. But it might be the prospect of spending more time with her would help. \n\n \n\n19. \n\nMy birthday came and the farmstead’s residents gathered in the summer evening, cheering for the great bonfire. \n\nMother got me socks and a shirt. \n\nHenry and Mercedes got me a toy gun, which was almost what I wanted. They spent most of the party in each other’s arms. I was convinced she had managed to forget Achilles properly, and I felt relieved for them. \n\nOne gift outshined the others. I had expected a hammer but got something else. “Don’t go running off with a gang now,” father said, messing up my hair, before setting a cowboy hat on my head. It was tailored to my growing size, and I refused to take it off for anything. \n\nWe ate of the well-sugared rhubarb pies mother had prepared for the occasion. We all drank beer, even me, and I felt properly drunk for the first time. \n\nNina passed me a shot of whiskey when no one was looking. I pretended to like it. People kept less of a distance to her tonight, and I got the sense that the backlash from her prank was ebbing out. \n\nWhen I asked if she had gotten me a present, she asked me to meet her in the barn. \n\nIn there, she pulled my pants down and took my cock in her mouth. I had lost my manners drinking beer, and I pulled her ears, pushing her glasses and nose against my crotch. She didn’t seem to mind. \n\nShe asked me to call her mommy again. I did as I finished on her tongue. With dramatic flourish, she swallowed my cum, and I was caught off guard by how the sound of it sent my drunk mind off course. It was almost as good a gift as the hat. Almost. \n\nWe split up and met up back at the party. \n\nI poured myself another mug of beer and sat laughing with Nina and the farmhands, when mother showed up above me. She huffed and took the mug from me. “Young man,” she said. “That’s enough of that.” \n\nI stretched for it, but she kept it out reach. “Come on,” I said. “It’s my birthday.” \n\n“Not for much longer,” she smirked. “It’s getting late.” \n\n“Missus Callaghan,” Trick said from the other end of the table. “We’ve got an eye on him.” He nodded faintly. \n\nShe sighed, settling into a reluctant smile. “Fine. But no more drinking. If I find him huddled up in a ditch tomorrow, choking on vomit, I’m holding you all accountable.” There were nods of reverent agreement.  \n\nAs she turned and left, lifting my beer to her lips, I grinned, eying her rolling hips. \n\nNina’s gift had left me at once with a crisp calm and a hunger that wouldn’t be sated by just beer. Might be that Nina was ready for another round later, but calling her mommy felt vaguely disingenuous.  \n\nI felt certain that it could be real, and with Parisa nodding on my shoulder, no doubts surfaced. \n\n \n\n20.  \n\nI took my hat and my gun and I went to the steep ledges near the river. I balanced on the rocks, and I pictured myself shooting at the birds. When they scattered, I imagined enemies my own size instead. First, I was the sheriff, warding off wolf outlaws and coyote Indians, coming to piss in the feeding troughs of town. Then I got bored, and instead I was myself an outlaw, pillaging the Indians. I imagined the Indian chieftain having a young, shy daughter, wearing braids and a bushy tail. I imagined fucking her, even though she had told me no. \n\nIn my fantasy, my mother suddenly pulled my ear and dragged me off the poor girl. She sat me down at the kitchen table and lifted a finger. “I didn’t raise a ruffian! If a girl says no, then that’s it, mister. No more fucking.” Behing my closed eyes, mother’s stern expression became soft and inviting. “But you can fuck me instead.” \n\nMother sat onto the kitchen table and spread her legs, her thick tail waving me towards her. I leaned against her, sinking into her soft, white, velvet cunt. With her legs wrapped around me, I disappeared in her embrace. \n\nMy eyes opened at the sound of a branch snapping somewhere in the brook, and I looked about me, somehow afraid that mother was standing above me, ready to slap me. I remained alone. \n\nI eyed Parisa. “Am I deranged? My mother wouldn’t want me. She’d hate me.” If I wanted to fuck mothers, the grown-up thing to do was to go seduce some other man’s wife on another farm, like Achilles. \n\n“Your mother...” Parisa said. “Is the deranged one. She keeps up appearances. But if she didn’t have to, she would fuck every single man in sight.” She leaned against me, caressing me with her breasts. “Including you. You are a man now, right? You deserve it.” \n\nI narrowed my eyes. “But how? Nina was easy. We can’t be stooping to trickery.” I wasn’t sure why, but that seemed beyond negotiation. \n\n“Trust your instincts.” Nina was suddenly distracted and pointed. “What’s that?” \n\nI looked over the ledge. Next to the river, a bright green frog sat on a rock, croaking. “Ohh,” I said. “Those are rare.” I could catch it. Hold it in my palm. I rose, meaning to step closer at a careful pace. \n\nThe ledge broke under my paw, and I fell. My hat snatched onto a protruding branch, and I caught it, but it couldn’t hold my weight. It slid out of my hand, and I rolled all the way to the water. \n\nI lay still for a moment, before deciding nothing was hurting. I pushed myself up and found that the frog was gone. My heart raced when I looked up and saw my hat still hanging on the branch. \n\nI crawled for it and pulled it to my embrace. As it slid off the branch, a sense of dread struck me. The branch had speared the hat and left a hole I could poke my finger through.   \n\nI ran back to the farm as fast as I could. I searched for mother and found her reading in the kitchen. These days, she was reading like she had never read before. She had no idea that I knew exactly what her stories were about. I had borrowed her book briefly, skimming it. There were indeed passages with some stomach-turning descriptions of cocks and cunts. She looked up at me, smiling as if she was reading the bible. “What is it, sweetheart?” \n\nI held forth the cowboy hat. She took it, turning it in her hands with a perplexed look. Finally, she found the hole. “Oh, how’d you manage that? Playing rough again? I’ve told you to be careful. Are you hurt?” She grabbed my chin, squeezing my cheeks as she looked me over. \n\n“I’m fine. Can you fix it?” Father would be mad, if he saw I had ruined his present. \n\nShe poked a finger through the hole. “What, you think cowboys don’t get their hats scraped? Wear and tear is part of the look.” \n\n“Please.” \n\n“Alright.” She rose, taking her book with her into the workshop. She brought back needle and thread and sat down, working in silence. I pulled out a chair and watched from a safe distance. \n\nIt was over in a matter of minutes. \n\nShe stepped up before me. “There you go,” she said with a beaming smile. She placed the hat on my head, pushing my ears down. “My little cowboy. Go melt some hearts.” \n\nI was filled with a warm rush of confidence. Trust your instincts. “Can I melt yours?” Mother laughed, as if she thought I was joking, and I felt equally embarrassed and angry.  \n\n“You’re adorable,” she said. “But I am a married woman. You’ll invoke my man’s ire.” \n\nWhy. Why does that matter now, you whore? I reached out and grabbed her by the shoulder, meaning to appear daring and irresistible. “What if he doesn’t find out? I fuck better than he does.” \n\nMother made wide, stunned eyes. She blinked for several breaths. Then she adjusted her shoulders, composing her frame. She nodded, giving me a severe look. “I suppose I knew this day would come. You’ve probably heard some of the older boys spouting nonsense about how sex works. We need to have a talk.” \n\nWas she meaning to teach me about how two people who loved each other did sex to make kittens. “I know how sex works, mom,” I said, shaking with frustration. “And I know how much you love it.” \n\nHer frown tightened into an expression of anger. “Dalton. You can’t talk to me like that. I’m your mother. You can’t talk to people like that.” \n\nMy heart raced, as I refused to admit my mistake. “Why not? Why don’t I get to have fun?” \n\n“Because that’s just how it is. Because I said so, and because God sends people who talk like that to hell, understand?” \n\nI absolutely did not. I shook my head to myself. But maybe that was the point. She wanted me to push. To make a game of it. Mother liked the idea of playful blackmail. I was certain of it. I met her solid gaze. “If you don’t suck my cock, I’ll tell father I saw you do it with Achilles.” \n\nMother’s eyes became slivers of red-hot malice. She leapt up and pulled me by the ear. “What’s gotten into you?” she hissed. “You’ve never been so... foul-mouthed.” \n\nThe sensations in me went to war and stuck in all directions. I started crying heavy tears. \n\nWe reached my room, and mother placed me in my bed. She crossed her arms before me. “Out with it. What happened? Talk to me.” \n\nI raised my hands to my face, wanting to hide. I was humiliated. Why did I listen to Parisa? I could kill her, if she wasn’t just empty air. “I just... I just don’t see...” The words burned in my mouth. “Why he gets to do it... And I have to watch like a cuckold.” I fell to the side, nesting myself on my pillow. “It was a joke. I’m not going to tell father. But I thought... I thought you would like it. You did with Achilles.” Now she would hate me. \n\nMother was about to rebut. Then she closed her mouth. A solemn sigh seemed evidence that she knew I had caught her in the act. “I... What happened with Achilles was a mistake. It does not mean that something like that could... should happen between us, Dalton. You’re too young, and we’re family.” \n\nThree mistakes, at least. I could have been a nice little mistake too, no problem. “I understand,” I said, choking on my words. “I won’t tell father. If you won’t tell him that I’m deranged.” \n\nShe sat down at my side. She ran a hand through my hair and caressed my ear, as if meaning to mend the place she had pinched. “Oh, Dalton. You’re not deranged. You’re just a boy with a lot of new emotions. It’ll get easier to understand in time.” \n\n“I understand just fine,” I said, careful not to hiss. “I’ve done it already.” \n\nHer hand stopped. “With who?” \n\n“N-…” I began, before recognizing a note of malice in her voice. She might feel that firing Nina was for my own good. “No one you know.” \n\nShe hesitated in disbelief. “I hope it was special for you,” she said. “Sex is something to... tread carefully about. I should tell you to... remain abstinent like your sister, but I suppose it doesn’t mean a lot coming from me, now does it?” She chuckled. “My little boy. Even with your running around, climbing the fences... I thought I had a lock on you. But you’re growing up. It makes me scared of losing you. Please be careful.” \n\nI sat up and put my arms around her. “I’ll be careful.” And your daughter isn’t abstinent either. \n\n“Please don’t be disappointed in me,” she said. “I should have been better.” \n\n“I’m not disappointed,” I said. “Just jealous.” \n\n“Hm,” she said, without jerking as if I had said something atrocious. “You don’t want me, sweetheart.” \n\n“I do.” \n\n“Ah,” she said, as if in understanding. “Dalton. I don’t want you to think I hate you.” She paused. “Do you remember...? Even a few years ago. You would crawl into our bed, and I would read to you. And suddenly you stopped.” She held me. “Do you want to... hear me read to you again?” \n\nSome sort of peace offering? I was afraid lying in her bed would make everything worse. But I couldn’t say no to her. \n\n \n\n21. \n\nIn my nightwear, I lay pressed close against mother in her and father’s bed. I might have to leave when father was done in the workshop, but if I fell asleep first, he might not bother to throw me out.  \n\nHer tail swayed beside her. She held a small book above the sheets. I wondered if it was another book with sex in it. But then I remembered the silent truce that seemed to have fallen and tried to push the thought away. \n\nMother cleared her throat. \n\n“The Little Coyote and the Cowboy. A little coyote with feathers in her hair was the pride of the Deep-Valley Tribe. When her father was out hunting, she would dance over the hills, wearing dresses decorated in prairie flowers, and soon every man in the land around the valley had seen her. It was not uncommon for the tribe to have visitors, among which were always at least one hungry man, who meant to take her hand in marriage. But Little Coyote thought them brutish and told her father to turn them away, which he gladly did. One day, a fox cowboy came to visit, a six-shooter at his hip...” Mother stopped, as I had turned away from her, nervously doubled over. “What is it?” \n\n“I’m just... It’s nothing.” I was hard. I had made the mistake of imagining the little coyote with big breasts and had long pictured the moment where she gave herself away to the cowboy. \n\n“Is the story boring? I quite like it. The Cowboy won’t leave the girl be. She challenges him to a shootout and wins, then...” She stopped. “Are you...” She leaned over me. \n\n“No,” I said. “You’ll get mad.” \n\nShe pulled off the covers and saw my pants pushed out by my hard cock. “My...” She put the covers back. “I... won’t get mad. Promise.” She pulled me closer and pressed me against her once more. “Where were we...?” She lifted the book. \n\nThe tip of my cock was pressing against her thigh. How could she not notice? I gasped and hissed through my teeth. \n\nShe set the book aside. “God. I bet you’ll just find some cheap broad... You could stay at home, where someone loves you.” Her fingers took a sharp grip of me. “Did you say... You were going to tell your father about me and the farmhand?” \n\n“No,” I said, breath caught in my throat. “I wouldn’t, I promise.” \n\n“It’s a shame,” she said, biting her lip. “If my son was to blackmail me... I would have no choice... But to do as he said.” \n\nMy mind wouldn’t register the meaning of her words. But after a wavering breath, I managed to respond. “I could tell him. If you... Help me out. I might not.” \n\nHer hand slipped beneath the covers. I felt it, first against my stomach. She slid down and dug into my pants. Her fingers wrapped around my cock. My breathing went rapid. \n\n“How did I manage to raise a pervert?” she said. “I guess I already failed.” \n\nI wanted to play along. To be clever. But my thoughts were a jittering, balled up squeal of joy, and no words would form. \n\n“Tell me what you want,” she said, painfully calm. “Little cowboy.” \n\n“Keep... keep touching me,” I said, snaking out of my pants. \n\nShe squeezed, lifting gently, then sinking. “Like this?” \n\nWith a burning body, I turned and placed my face beneath her breasts. “Keep going.” I gripped her nightgown and pulled down, not as careful as I had imagined. I had seen her breasts before, down by the river. Not this close. Not with her surprised eyes above, an inch of surrender each moment. With our gazes locked, my mouth found her nipple and sucked. I closed my eyes, carving the scene into my mind with all I had. Her hand on my cock, fingers grazing my balls. The warmth of her breasts. \n\n“I remember...” she said. “When I had just had you. We couldn’t get you to nurse... You had to be starving before surrendering. How things change.”  \n\nI nodded, tonguing her fur shamelessly.  \n\n“I kind of like the thought... That you want your mother this much. Enough to blackmail. Like a scoundrel.” \n\nI would answer, if it didn’t mean I would have to stop sucking. Somehow, she kept me from finishing, slowing down when she sensed my trembling. \n\n“Is this all you want? You already know how bad a mother I am.” Her finger slipped below my balls, caressing between my cheeks, and the sensation sent my back arching and my tail whipping. “My scoundrel,” she said. “Would you like... To take back my womb?” \n\nI grabbed her arm, stopping her stroking. She made a mock gasp. I repositioned. She put her fingers to her mouth, aghast as I pulled off her underwear and spread her legs. Her cunt, behind the depths of her bush of a tail. She looked like a slope of snowfall among the sheets. I dived in, sliding up her body. I pushed her breasts against me. My hand went through the fur on her cheek, then held her ear. I wanted to tell her that it was more than I thought I deserved.  \n\nShe narrowed her eyes. “You’re hesitating,” she said. “Go ahead. You came from there. It’s yours.” \n\nI put my hips against her. Remembering the motions from with Nina, I slid inside. We breathed together in near shock at the heat of the embrace. I humped, reckless. The bed shook. I sucked on her breasts, one after the other. \n\n“There...” she said, putting a hand in my hair. “Now there’s nothing to be jealous of.” \n\nI was somehow still jealous. She lied. It wasn’t just mine. There would keep being others. But I couldn’t mind. I couldn’t tell her no. I could even enjoy it. “When I watched you...” I said, honesty rolling from me. “With him. I finished. Without even touching myself.” If I was honest... then she’d be too. \n\nHer fingers gripped my hair. “You like that? Your mother being bad?” \n\nI did. “How bad are you? How many farmhands was it?” \n\n“Two.” \n\nMore than Achilles. I hadn’t thought I could get harder. She gasped, feeling it. “Who?” I whispered in her ear. \n\nShe snickered. “Tell me who you fucked first.” \n\n“Nina.” \n\n“That whore.” She growled. “I fucked Achilles. And that wolf before him, Neil. And now you.” \n\nI finished before I wanted to. My legs went numb, my claws digging into the sheets. Mother grabbed my hands, intertwining her fingers with mine. My cum released, and I felt more of myself pouring into her than I had thought possible. At my last waning strokes, she purred. \n\n“Scoundrel,” she said, holding me. “I didn’t say you could finish inside.” \n\nI wondered if she could have stopped me, if she wanted to. Now, part of me was in her. I felt beaming pride. We lay still against one another, simply breathing. Time slowed. She ran her fingers through my hair and stroked my back, as I focused on the rhythm of her heart. Not knowing if this would happen again, I didn’t want to pull out of her. \n\nThere were sounds of steps on the stairs outside. \n\n“Fuck,” she said, eyes thrown into calamity. “Get under the bed.” \n\nI was practically kicked off the side, barely having the sense to hold on to the sheets, to avoid the sound thump of colliding with the floor boards. I slithered into the dusty dark beneath the bed and froze when the door opened. I saw father’s paws cross the floor, as he placed himself at the foot of the bed.  “There you are,” he said. “Early for you to go to bed.” \n\n“Just getting some reading in,” she said. “I might have caught a cold, so I’m a bit winded.” \n\n“Ah, I see.” Father stood for a long moment. The silence quickly became heavy. “Uh... I.” \n\n“What is it? You’re not here to turn in?” \n\n“No... I.” His voice was sad and weak. “There’s no easy way to say this. I know it has been a while since we have made love. Properly. In a way where we could... Feel each other. As when we were young.”  \n\nI got a strange lump in my throat. My thoughts had somehow managed to dodge the image of my father having sex entirely. \n\nMother coughed. “I’m aware. My thought was... That you were simply... Disinterested.” \n\n“It’s... I am deeply sorry. You are the most beautiful woman a man could wish for and... I should have been more grateful.” It sounded as if he were about to cry. “I... The guilt is eating me up. When we were in Eamington. There was a vixen... Named Roxanne. She served drinks at the tavern. She earned... many gazes, singing by the piano. When the night got old, and she slid down the bar desk... I swear, they put something in that beer. I should have stopped sooner...” \n\n“Cole...” She tsk’ed. “A fox named Roxanne. That’s downright cliché.” \n\n“It wasn’t her um... real name, but she didn’t say...” \n\n“You fucked her,” she said with a solid laugh. “Cole, God’s best disciple. That’s a surprise.” \n\n“I did,” he said, not proud, but responsible. “I am ashamed. I have failed you. And I can only hope to God that you and he can muster mercy. I understand if you want to leave me... But I couldn’t live a lie. If you will allow me... I will do everything in my power to appease you.” \n\nMy father cheating. I thought Achilles had lied. I wondered if that might mean the sky could fall. \n\n“Appease me,” mother repeated with a huff. “As if I’m a dragon.” She tapped the sheets. “Come sit down. Loosen your shoulders. You’re sweating something fierce.” \n\nHe sighed and hesitated, before sitting down in bed. I saw his weight beside mother’s. \n\nShe scooted closer to him. “We’ve been married for... what, eighteen years. That’s half our lives. We were... pure in the eyes of the Lord. While I am scorned that you’re more interested in some tavern whore than me... Who am I to tell you that you had to let that simmer and fester in you until you died? Now you know what a fox can squeeze from you. You’ve got to be relieved.” \n\nHe searched for his words. “No. No! I am not relieved. You are the love of my life, Eloise... and I turned my back on you. I cannot be relieved. I don’t deserve it.” \n\n“Ah, my Cole... Do you want to be...” I could hear her smirk. “Punished?” \n\n“What are you... ah!” His weight shifted, and soon his breathing rose to where his words wouldn’t form. I recognized the moans. She was touching his cock. \n\n“How was she?” she asked. “Was she young and agile? Did she do all the things I haven’t done for you?” \n\n“Ahn. She was... nothing. I only thought of you.” \n\n“Don’t lie. Tell me what I need to do to win you back.” \n\nHis voice leapt. “She put it... in her mouth.” \n\n“Silly you. All you needed to do was ask.” Her weight shifted, the dents of her knees appearing beside his waist. The sound of her lips smacking rang. The sound of drool falling from her tongue. I needed to see. Careful, I turned myself. In the window, I could see their reflection. She was leaned down, his cock in her mouth. With my crotch pressed against the floor, my cock moved. I felt a need to listen with all my attention. \n\n“I must say,” he said, his voice trembling. “I thought you would be... furious. The craziest thoughts crossed me. I thought... I would have to let you do the same to me. That I would have to let you... let someone else into the bedroom. I had thoughts... of sin.” \n\nShe looked up. “What if I already did? What would you think of me?” \n\nHis faltering voice moved to her touch on his cock. “I would... be angry. But I would remember my failing... And feel like a small man.” \n\n“If you want to... be angry.” She licked him. “Ask me what I did. Or do you like to think I’m... still pure?” \n\n“What did you do?” he asked with a resigned whisper. \n\n“I fucked Achilles. Just like he said. When you were gone, I took him to your office to scold him. Instead, I let him throw me over your paperwork. He tied me up. Seeded me.” Her devious grin reflected white in the window. “Are you angry? Will you leave me?” \n\nHe groaned, deep and wild. “You... you’re awful.” He grabbed her by the hair. With unkind force, he threw her to the foot of the bed. “How could you do that to me?” \n\n“I’m a whore,” she said, slowly rising, her rear pointed against him. “Not even your whore. You won’t do anything about it, cuckold.” \n\nMy breath was caught in my throat. She had called me foul-mouthed. This was hardly my mother. \n\nFather sneered a defeated grimace. “Hell take you.” He approached her, and with little care, he thrusted his cock into her. “God. I feel it. You’re wet. Like he was just inside you.” She whinnied, spurred on by the words. \n\nI bit down. That was my cum he felt. The thought surged through me. \n\n“Is that all?” she said. “Half the farmhands do better.” \n\n“Oh God. How many of them?” He didn’t slow down. \n\n“I’ve lost count,” she said matter-of-factly. “When they knock on my door... I think nothing of it. My mouth. My cunt. My rear. I let them decide. When you kiss me... You taste their cum.” \n\nMore than two? Had she been honest with me? Was she honest now? \n\n“You filthy... rotten sow.” His fury weakened. “At least... let me have your rear. Let me be where they’ve been.” \n\nShe snorted. “You ask me? Pathetic. Be a man.” \n\nHe pulled out of her. He took aim, near her tail, and leaned against her. She squealed in soft pain, yet pushed back against him, her tail waving an invitation. He reclaimed his fury, and the bed shook around me, the floorboards creaking dangerously.  \n\nWith her cheek against the sheets, she looked back. “Did Roxanne let you do this?” \n\n“No,” he hissed. “Only you.” \n\n“Tell me I’m better than her.” \n\n“You... You’re... I love you. With all my heart. You’re better.” His ears pressed down in a painfully honest gesture. \n\n“Good. Now cum up my worn-out whore hole, love.” \n\nI shook against the floor in utter disbelief. \n\nMy father diligently obeyed, pushing against her with his last fury. His tail bristled. Their gasping unified into a limping gallop. They shook, and I thought I heard the cum drip onto the sheets. After reveling in the satisfied sighs, she pulled away from him. She crawled to him and pulled him under the sheets. They positioned themselves in each other’s arms. The breathing steadied into calm whispers. \n\n“That was...” he said. “That was incredible.” \n\n“Thank you.” \n\n“What you said. All the farmhands. You were just... Pretending, right?” \n\nShe hesitated. “I didn’t fuck all the farmhands. But sober up... Then think of what Achilles said. And then decide if you want to be angry. By my count... We’re even.” \n\n“Right... I. Right.” \n\nI almost snickered. Even. By my count, father had a few more to go to get even. But I wondered if that was the thought he would latch on to. It seemed likely... That he might instead fixate on her habits. The way I did. Part of me found it off-putting. Revolting. My father was a weak man.  \n\nI breathed, almost sighing, sending dust flying. I was forced to wait. Would I need to lie still until morning? What would father think if he found out that she had cheated with me? \n\nI saw no other choice. I lay still. Father’s breathing became heavy, as he fell asleep. Finally, after what felt like a day, mother moved. She rose and stepped to the door, opening it. In the weak light, she made an outwards wave with her hand. \n\nI understood. As swiftly as I could without making noise, I crawled towards her. In the doorframe I rose. Together we made our way down the stairs. \n\nIn the kitchen, she put a hand on my shoulder and whispered. “I’m sorry that you heard that. You’re still young. I’m not... I’m not like that.” \n\nBut you are. “It’s alright. I don’t mind. But... Now I’m jealous again.” The things father had done. I could do them too. I wondered what else she could do that Roxanne couldn’t. \n\nShe nodded with a defeated look. “I need to stop making mistakes... But I guess I can’t. Go to your room. Sober up. Tomorrow, let me know if you want the rest of the cowboy story.” \n\nI nodded, wondering if she meant that we would do it all again. With my luck, we might just. Parisa circled my neck in pride. I leaned forward and kissed my mother on the lips. Her whiskers flicked in surprise. She stood with a dizzy look as I grinned back and walked into the hall, towards my room. \n\n \n\n22. \n\nIt was a bright, cloudless day, and mother and I were setting up for breakfast outside. Father was picking blackberries downhill, whistling to himself. \n\nMercedes burst out the door and spun around herself, hair tail a ribbon about her. Her skirts soared. “It’s the High Summer Festival, hey-ho!” She sang with a faultless voice. She skipped to mother and embraced her. “Hey-ho, it’s today!” She slid on, clapping her hands. She stopped at my side and kissed me on the head. “It’s the High Summer Festival, hey-ho!” \n\n“My...” I said, my heart fluttering. “I sure wish I knew what day it is today.” She had gone on about it all week. \n\n“It’s the High Summer Festival, silly,” she said, ruffling my hair. \n\n“Lively as ever,” mother said. “Is Henry picking you up? Will you not have time for breakfast?” \n\n“That’s right! I saw the carriage from the window. Any moment now.” She sat down by the table and closed her eyes with a serene sigh. Her hair, braided with pink bows, fell into a glistening frame about her face. \n\nI sat down beside her. I tried to look away, remaining aloof and secretive. But I had to see her. Could she feel it? The growing confidence? \n\nYesterday... I had been a right hero. Mother had slept in, and father had gone to work early. I slipped into their room. I crawled under the sheets and cuddled up behind mother. She moaned, as if waking from a soft dream. With my hands on her breasts, I whispered in her ear, asking if I could stick my cock up her ass. She mumbled deliriously, then managed to form a confused alright. She lifted her tail. I felt with my fingers, marveling at the sleek clench of the new hole. Impatiently I pushed my cock inside. As I humped, I felt only vague guilt at her strained hisses. I finished with just my tip inside, her reflexive clenching sending tremors through me. As I pulled out, cum kept pouring, sticking to the fur of her cheeks in curtains. I had leaned into her ear, whispered that I loved her, then snuck out as easily as I had come in. \n\nThen, in the evening. I had found Nina bathing in the river. She squealed when I snuck up on her in the water, then turned to slap me. I wasn’t discouraged. When I asked her to let me fuck her ass, she turned up her nose. Then when I called her mommy, she sighed, looked about her, and dragged me behind the cover of rocks. I held on to her bushy tail as I entered. Her chubby frame was almost softer than mother’s. She didn’t hiss in pain. I suspected she was used to it. I finished deep inside. Afterwards, she had shooed me away, as if bathing with me was somehow still embarrassing. \n\nThe memories burned bright. But I wasn’t satisfied. I liked Nina. I loved mother. Being in love was something else.  \n\n“What are you staring at?” Mercedes said, ever with her smile, drawing her gaze from the approaching carriage. \n\nI shook my head, trying to gather myself. “Uh,” I said. “Nothing. You had a fly in your hair.” \n\nShe made wide eyes. “Ew.” She shook her head, batting her ears. The bows in her hair tossed with her braids. \n\nFor all the fucking I had done, unpunished, I couldn’t bring myself to say aloud that whatever she did, it made me feel warm inside. Even the annoying hey-ho rolling off her tongue. \n\nThe carriage stopped. At the reins sat the coachman, a bunny I had seen on the neighboring farm. Mercedes rose and took long steps towards him, almost angry. “Why are you alone? Where is Henry?” \n\nThe coachman shrugged with sincere regret. “Henry is sick. Sore throat, dizzy. He said you wouldn’t miss the festival for the world, so he sent me anyway.” \n\nShe put her hands to her mouth, as if Henry had died. “No. Say it isn’t so.” \n\nHe nodded and shrugged again. “Do you want to come or not? I can fit four in here.” \n\nShe turned, showing her wet eyes to me and mother. “Please, I can’t go alone, it’ll be so dull.” \n\nMother folded her hands with an apologetic frown. “I’m sorry. Father needs to tend to the vermin in the grain. I need to prepare for the mayor’s visit tomorrow.” \n\nI hadn’t seen any vermin. I wondered if them staying behind had something to do with a talk I had seen mother have with Trick. A farmhand who never talked if he could help it. But that was just my imagination running away with me. \n\nI had kicked and screamed last year, when Mercedes wanted me to go, so when she looked at me, it seemed she had already given up. “I’ll go,” I said, somehow not giving away that there was nothing I wanted more. \n\nHer smile was worth it. She spun on the spot, clapped her hands and then lifted me off the ground in her embrace. \n\n \n\n23. \n\nWe were dropped off at the edge of New Herring, the town we called ours. The streets were decorated with flower wreaths and every corner smelled of honey-roasted delicacies. The coachman, named Ruben, took off, assuring us he would pick us up in the afternoon, about when the sun crossed the tip of the town hall’s tower. \n\nMercedes took my hand and dragged me along. I could hardly muster interest in the scarfs, the earrings, and the carved wood figurines, but I told her it looked good, whenever she wore or held up something. When she drew out father’s wallet, the shopkeepers perked up, closing in, trying to sell her anything and everything. \n\nShe bought a sky-blue hairband and two glazed apples on sticks. She passed me one, and we went on, reaching the marketplace, where performers were dancing among the festival goers. There were acrobats standing on each other’s shoulders. \n\nI stopped at an alcove, where two musicians were playing. A wolf on violin and a hind on accordion. Though the hind was light-brown, her pony-tail reminded me of Parisa. She sang as she played. \n\n“Daytime to nighttime, I sit on the hill, gazing upon the horizon until, my long-lost love decides it is time, to sail on the waves back into my life.” \n\nI stood, mesmerized by her speed in working the keys, while undistracted in her dreaming voice. Mercedes placed her hands on my shoulders from behind. I held my breath as she held me, swaying from side to side in time with the music. \n\nIt seemed we had arrived late in the performance, and it was over too soon. The two bowed to the crowd to a modest applause. The fox went around, holding out a hat, and the hind packed their instruments down. \n\n“How delightful,” Mercedes said, humming with delirious bliss. “See, it’s not so bad here.” \n\nHer breasts were pushed into my back. “No, it’s not.” \n\n“Next, we go pay for some warm baths...” She delved into her purse. Her hand searched. She hesitated. “Father’s wallet... It’s gone.” She kept desperately checking the bag’s corners, before finally giving up. She looked to the surrounding crowd, as if to see who could have taken it, but no one was nearby. We wouldn’t recover it. She folded her hands before her, standing frozen. “There was... almost twenty dollars in there.” \n\nI sighed, putting my arm around her. “It’ll be fine. Father can’t get mad at you. You’re his little angel.” \n\n“It’s just... I’m just so... disappointed in myself.” She sniveled. “This was supposed to be the best day. First Henry is sick...” \n\n“It’s still going to be a great day,” I said, squeezing her. \n\n“Everything costs money.” \n\n“Not everything.” I lifted a bag out of my pocket. A selection of roasted nuts. \n\nShe took it, holding it up to her nose, her whiskers stretching at the savory smell. She suddenly frowned. “Did you steal this?” \n\n“No, I promise.” I had indeed stolen it. \n\nShe scowled gently, but didn’t say further. She ate as we walked up the street. \n\n“Down here,” I said, pointing down a damp alley, where I saw green hills at the far end. \n\nShe looked about her, not usually one for leaving the crowd. “Oh, alright.” She waved off the people, as if wanting to make it clear that they had scorned her. I took her hand, and we went into the shadows. We entered flowery gardens, where deep and wide discs of hibiscus spread among the weeds. She folded her hands on her chest in awe, looking up at the church tower. “The Chapel Gardens. I don’t come here enough.” \n\nAfraid that she would balk at the swarming dragonflies, I pulled her along regardless. We went downhill, to where a pond of water was sheltered by a golden canopy of the hanging flower chains of laburnum. \n\nShe let herself fall onto her side in the grass, where she could dip her fingertips in the water, watching the rings spread. \n\nI picked the largest of the deep-red hibiscus, one looking sculpted from glass. I dropped into the grass beside her and tucked it beneath her hair band. She closed her eyes, self-satisfied.  \n\nShe reached out to embrace me. “Oh, Dalton. Of all the things I will miss when I move away. You, I will miss the most.” \n\nThere was barely a month left. I embraced her back. “Why do you have to go?” \n\n“Because I love Henry. And because that’s the way of life. I will still come visit. Next festival... We’ll be together all of us.” \n\nSurely, she didn’t mean I would have to wait until next summer. Should I tell her? That her leaving meant I would feel empty. That I couldn’t see some other girl filling that void. It wouldn’t help. Mercedes was not like mother. She would rather see the world than me. \n\nWith wet eyes, I buried my nose in the ruff of her neck. \n\n“Dalton,” she said. “It’ll be alright.” \n\n“I stole the nuts,” I said. “I’m sorry.” \n\nShe made a sound between a sigh and a laugh. “You’re a right little outlaw, aren’t you?” \n\n“Father would be disappointed in me. He’d say that God hates me.” For a lot more than the nuts. \n\n“I’m little different...” she said, looking away. “Dalton. If you were to marry a girl. Some day. Do you like to think she would be... untouched.” \n\n“A virgin?” I knew she wasn’t. I didn’t care. “I don’t know. That’s just what father says, isn’t it. But father is an idiot. Did you know... In Eamington. He was with a fox. I heard him apologizing to mother.” \n\nShe put a hand to her mouth. “He didn’t.\" Then she shook her head, smiling, as if it wasn’t such a hard thought to align with. “He and mother both. What a home.” \n\n“Whatever you think you did,” I said. “Don’t feel guilty.” \n\nShe put a hand to my cheek. “Thank you.” \n\nOur gazes locked. The flower shone from her, and I swore that if she willed it, that look could kill me. She leaned close, kissing my cheek. She whispered. “If God is to hate me...” She kissed my other cheek. “Shouldn’t it... Be for something done of love? I would rather it be for you.”   \n\nShe kissed me on the lips, pressing my cheeks together. \n\nMy heart crumbled into dust as I leaned against her, meeting her, hoping to say this is the height of all I am, when my words stubbornly refused to do the same. \n\nShe leaned back, pulling me with her. I rested on her breasts. Any doubt that this was a mere show of kindness vanished, when my tongue entered her mouth without resistance. My cock hardened, and I was sure she could feel it against her side. She didn’t pull away. \n\nShe lifted me from her, meeting my eyes. “You... You’re quite forward, aren’t you?” She ran her hand through the fur on my cheek. “You know... The next time you sleep in my room. Don’t touch yourself next to me. It is quite rude.” \n\nMy heart couldn’t beat faster, though it tried. “S-… I’m sorry.” \n\nShe kissed my nose. “Make it up to me. Make love with me. Not next to me.” She pulled up the skirts of her dress. \n\n“I love you,” I said, awkwardly pulling down my pants as I slid between her spread legs. \n\n“Oh, I love you too,” she said. “But we shouldn’t do this, should we?” \n\n“If we don’t,” I said. “We will regret it forever.” I didn’t have it in me to stop. \n\nHer trembling breath seemed to agree. She pulled me deeper into the tall grass. She hadn’t removed her underwear, but I couldn’t pull back. It was white and dainty, like her, and I pulled it aside. I looked into her eyes, as I entered her. My body sang. \n\nShe gasped, as if in pain, but settled into a soft smile. \n\nI moved slowly, showing all care I had. It took my all not to shake anxiously. Though I wanted to, I didn’t pull down her dress to her see breasts. She would think me rude. My mind filled with doubts and images of her with Achilles. Would she be disappointed I was not as big? Would she wish I could make her moan louder? \n\n“You treat me like a lady,” she said, aiding my motion with a hand in my back. “But I’m not a lady...” \n\n“You are to me.” \n\n“Then,” she said, her pitch rising. “The lady asks you to be a proper outlaw. And treat me like the robber you are.” \n\nI was taking her before Henry did. She was getting married. I was an outlaw. I got harder at the thought, and she closed her eyes in a drawn-out moan. Outlaws didn’t show care. They pillaged. The grass around us fell flat, as we tossed, tongues out, fingers clawing at each other’s ruffs. \n\n“On the wedding night,” I said. “Think of me.” \n\nShe narrowed her eyes at me. I remembered too late that Achilles had almost said the same. \n\n“Don’t take me away from my man,” she said. “I don’t doubt you could.” \n\n“But you’re mine already,” I said, forgetting myself. “Standing there in your wedding dress. You won’t kick me out. He’ll wait his turn.” I didn’t mean to taunt her. But it was her fault for getting me drunk on her. \n\n“God, if he knew. My brother.” She clawed at my hair. “I won’t kick you out. I’ll let you be the guest of honor. It’ll be your wedding night too.” \n\nI snarled in glee. “Turn around,” I said. “Tail up.” \n\nWith eager blinking, she nodded. She turned, sleek through the grass. She pushed herself up on one arm. “I want to look at you.” Lying on her side, she perched out a leg, then pulled up a cheek of her ass by her fingertips. Her tail curled happily. An intoxicating invitation. \n\nI slid in. The angle made her clench against me with the weight of a mountain. I reached deeper than I could have dreamed. Her hand grabbed the collar of my shirt and pulled me close. We met in one kiss after the other, pecks of careless affection. I took hold of one of her braids, admiring the bow in my fingers, barely having the gall to pull. \n\nI tucked on it, bending her neck. Her mouth hung open, and I felt her breath warm me each time my hips struck her. \n\n“Mercedes,” I said through my teeth. “I’m about to...” \n\nShe purred happily. “Do it wherever you like.” \n\nAnywhere? Inside? Maybe inside was bad. “Get out your tits.” \n\n“Naughty,” she said, pulling down her dress. \n\nShe cradled her breasts in her arm, lifting them like a tavern whore. The cum started spurting, even before I pulled out. It streaked across her stomach, before I stood up, coating her breasts in burst after burst. It hung in her ruff, sliding down, drawing wet marks on her dress. The shape of her breasts was made for this. \n\nShe put her fingers to her collar bone, as if in nervous surprise. She breathed in relief and looked at me, smiling. “This isn’t your first time, is it?” she said, leaning in to give my cock a lick. She touched herself between the legs and lifted cum-stained fingers. She sighed. “This is too risky... Isn’t it?” \n\nI couldn’t focus on her words. My eyes were fixed on a newcomer, who had caught us. A tiny bunny girl with blonde hair who stood up the hill, her arms wrapped defensively about her. She pointed at my cock, hovering before Mercedes’ mouth, still dripping on her tits. \n\n“Ewwww,” the girl called. “Ew ew ew. Mommy!” she turned and ran. \n\nMe and Mercedes looked at each other with wide eyes. We rose, dressed ourselves as fast as possible and darted the opposite way out of the garden, almost tripping more than once. We delved down a damp alley and suddenly stood among festival goers, who were oblivious to our rapid breaths. \n\nOur eyes met, and I could feel reality closing in. As if we were getting sober. \n\nShe straightened her back and loosened her shoulders. She lifted her nose and evened out the creases in her dress. If not for the cum pooling in her cleavage, no one would ever know. \n\n“That was...” she said. “Not smart.” \n\n“We’ll be fine,” I said. “Everything will be fine.” \n\nShe nodded, steadying her breath. “Right.” \n\nWe went to a tavern and asked to borrow the water pump and a few rags, in exchange for me cleaning a stack of dishes. In the backyard, we cleaned up Mercedes. Inside, the barkeep gave us a few odd looks, but we acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary. \n\nWhen Ruben rolled in with the carriage in the afternoon, we stood diligently waiting. \n\nOn the ride home we were quiet. Mercedes held my hand, as if she was afraid of letting go. The warmth in me kept burning. When I lay my head on her shoulder and she leaned back, I did believe things would be alright. I had purged Achilles from my home in entirety. And I felt older and stronger than I had any right to. \n\n \n\n24.  \n\nAs expected, father forgave Mercedes for losing the wallet nearly instantly. He almost managed to spin it to being my fault, for not keeping watch for pickpockets. \n\nThe following day, the mayor, his wife, and their ugly daughter came to visit. Chubby cats who shed wads of fur all over the estate. The mayor limped in on his healing leg. \n\nAs there was talk of the bandits roaming the roads to the south, we ate a grand spread of steamed vegetables. By my side, mother wrapped her tail around mine. She slid her hand over my thigh. In front of me, Mercedes reached out her leg and scratched my ankle with affection. With tight lips, I kept my composure. Neither knew of the other. I wondered when the jig would be up. I had believed Achilles when he had said things like these came back to bite you. For now... The glow of confidence was worth dragging it out a little longer.  \n\nIt turned out that others were the ones in dire need of a lesson in covertness. \n\nA month came and went. The wedding was a week away. The wedding dress was finished and had just been delivered by Henry, who insisted more than once that he hadn’t looked at it. That he wanted seeing it on her to be a surprise. Mercedes fanned her face, as if flustered. They leaned against each other, barely touching in a kiss. She waved after him, as the carriage left, taking him back to the storm of wedding preparations. \n\nShe and I were alone in the dining room. Mother and father were sorting out papers in the study. I watched with tense muscles as she undressed. I wondered if it was simply her nature to cover her breasts, though I had been indecently close to them. I had sucked on them. \n\nShe pulled on her new dress, somehow whiter than her. I helped her close the bodice. She tossed her hair and spun on the spot, lifting the skirts. Her free tail caressed the floral patterns and falls. A big bow at the base of her tail was like a touch from God. \n\n“How do you like it?” she asked. “Am I a beautiful bride?” Her hand slid down her stomach, and she glanced down with a dreaming sigh. \n\n“I have no words.” \n\n“That’s cheap,” she said, sticking her tongue out in mock. “Henry would have words.” \n\nI leaned on my palm. “You’re like a flower from the Garden of Eden.” \n\n“Don’t overdo it.” \n\nI rolled my eyes. “Then why don’t you marry h–…\" \n\nI was cut off by the sound of steps on the floor above. Mercedes’ eyes met mine, and we held our breaths in mutual understanding. This had happened too much. There were the dainty steps of mother. The heavy steps of father. And another set of heavy steps. The dog Trick by my best estimate. \n\nThere were sounds of clothes thrown. Sounds of knees hitting the floor. Sounds of a creaking bed. \n\n“Are you ready...” mother said, her voice far away but clear. “For your dear wife to be taken?” \n\n“No, please, dear,” father said with a begging voice I couldn’t feel was sincere. “You can’t. We’re married. You promised.” \n\n“Well, you promised not to be a limp pig. You’ve made your bed.” \n\n“I swear it, Eloise. I will never see another woman again.” \n\n“Too little too late, little man. You’re never touching my cunt again. You can raise a dog’s babies, and you will like it.” \n\nThat made me sure it was Trick. The bed creaked again, and the sound of uneven gasps started rising. I pictured it. The dog was shoving his cock into her on the bed, while father was on his knees, begging, as if he didn’t want his wife fucked. He would start touching himself any moment. \n\nAs the uncouth exchange continued, each line ripe with more nauseating words, Mercedes sighed and slid into the chair at my side. \n\n“God,” she said, leaning on her elbows. “We have to tell them that we can hear them... eventually, right?” \n\nI pointed up. “After that?” I rolled my eyes. “I wouldn’t dare. You do it. Let me know if they die on the spot from embarrassment.” \n\nMother squealed. “That’s it. I’m dog food, Cole. I can’t go back.” \n\nFather gasped, his voice weak and wavering. “I still love you.”  \n\nTrick didn’t have anything to add to the exchange. \n\nThe first time, Mercedes had palmed my ears again, leading me out. Then she had felt silly. Now, her eyes were filled with curious wonder. “Is that really arousing to men? Watching your woman making love to someone else in front of you?” \n\nI had the sense that it wasn’t a popular activity. But having done it more than once, it seemed my cock was used to getting hard. “Eh. It’s alright. I think I like doing it myself more.” \n\nShe giggled, leaning her shoulder against mine. “What if your girl likes it?” \n\n“That...” I said, sensing some sort of trap. “Would mean that a girl would have to be mine first. That sounds alright.” It was hard be clever, distracted by the noises above us. \n\nShe retracted with her soft smile and shrugged. “You know, if you’re going to be in the room on our wedding night... You’ll have to watch Henry.” \n\nI knew that. “Henry is alright. I’ve seen worse.” I was waiting for her to guess that I had seen her with Achilles. \n\nShe narrowed her eyes and bared her teeth in a grin. “What a thought. It is... exciting.” She rolled her shoulders with the sound of a pleased shiver and batted her tail. “It makes my stomach go woosh.” She looked at me. “What?” \n\nI had been staring. “Your smile. It makes me go woosh. It makes my cock hard.” \n\nShe slapped me, and I sat back bewildered. She brought her hands to her mouth in a gasp. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to...” She leaned in, grabbing me by the cheeks, and put her lips to mine. \n\n“It’s fine,” I said, as she rested her head atop mine. \n\n“So,” she said. “How... Just how will I sneak you in on our wedding night?” \n\nI had done enough sneaking that I was confident I could succeed. “Might be... something like this.” I got up and took her hand, pulling her from the chair. I dropped to my knees. \n\n“What are we...?” She gasped when I lifted her skirts from behind and crawled in between her legs. “Dalton.” Her hips pressed into the edge of the table. \n\nI shushed her. I felt caught in a cloud as the white of her dress shone around me. I pulled her underwear down. This was a view. I ran my hands up the insides of her thighs, making her fur stand on end. \n\n“Not in here,” she said, her voice threatening to break when my hands reached her rear. She didn’t stop me. \n\nTo the muffled noise of our parents not fucking upstairs, I stuck my tongue out and pressed it against her cunt. Her tail stood up, tense and happy. At my lapping, she wettened rapidly, and my whiskers soon dripped. \n\nUpstairs, mother snarled in pleasure. “Clean it, cuckold. Taste his seed in me.” There was muffled moaning. \n\n“I think...” Trick said almost timidly, finally breaking his silence. “I think I’m going to go.” \n\nThey didn’t answer him. A door opened and closed, and we heard Trick on the stairs. \n\nMercedes hissed. “They’ll be done soon.” \n\nI didn’t answer. I put my tongue in deeper by each run. Finally, I slid it all the way to her tail, tasting the other hole. It was bitter. But it was her, Mercedes, the Eden flower. I could lick until I fainted with exhaustion. Her shaking peaked. I recognized it as her orgasm. The hole tensed around my tongue. I pushed in further, and I grasped my crotch, almost finishing as well. \n\n“Dalton,” she said, wholly shivering. “I think you need to... Stop. We’ll be f–…\" She quieted at the sound of the door from the hall opening. I kept licking. \n\n“Mercedes,” mother said, dragging the name out with stunned reverence. “Your dress is beautiful.” \n\n“Th–… Thank you, mother.” \n\n“Wasn’t Dalton with you? If you see him, could you tell him dinner is served within the hour? If you set the table, I’ll fetch the sourdough.” \n\nMy fingers gripped at Mercedes’ thighs as I kissed her ass. She huffed wistfully. “Yes. I will... Yes.” \n\nMother seemed to pause. “Good. I’ll get to it.” \n\nThe moment after the door closed, Mercedes kicked my side. I crawled out with a wide smirk, though I expected another slap. Instead, she only sighed and smiled as she pulled up her underwear. \n\n \n\n25.  \n\nMercedes changed out of her wedding dress. Dinner was served. A swift prayer later, we were all four eating. Mother and father pecked each other, sharing flirtatious chuckles that put all other nausea I’d felt to shame. After whispering, they finally seemed to reach some sort of agreement. \n\nMother straightened her back and looked to Mercedes and me. “Your father and I have some wonderful news to share. Dalton. Mercedes. I am with child. You’re going to have a little brother or sister.” She smiled, wide and impossibly unconcerned. \n\nMercedes spat out her drink. I got a piece of bread stuck in my throat and started hammering my chest to give myself air. \n\nMother and father looked mortified as we composed ourselves. \n\nMercedes cleared her throat. “That is... That is great news.” She looked to father. “Uh. Is... Are you the... Father?” \n\nI gaped at her audacity. As did mother and father. \n\n“What in...” Father gestured with his hands. “How could you even... insinuate!” \n\nShe rolled her hand, attempting to start a sentence more than once. “Um. You know with the whole... Farmhands sneaking into your bedroom.” \n\nMother and father briefly looked to one another. “I don’t know what silly daydreams you’ve been having,” mother said. “But I can assure you. In this family... by God’s word. The bedroom is sacred.” \n\nMercedes snickered blatantly.  \n\n“Young lady,” father said. “You will behave. You have a wedding coming up. And my word, I expect you to make your family proud.” \n\n“My wedding,” she said, releasing a defeated sigh. “My perfect wedding. With wine from Italy and cakes baked by the nuns of Sebastian’s Chapel. My wedding.” \n\n“Henry’s family has poured a fortune into the project.” Father pointed his fork at her. “That is a feat worthy of respect.” \n\nShe closed her eyes. She emptied her lungs in a long, meditative sound, as if meaning to expel something in her. “Father,” she opened her eyes. “I am with child too. And Henry is not the father.” \n\nI dropped my fork. All emotion vanished from mother’s face. \n\nFather spread his hands, grasping powerlessly at the air. “Mercedes.” He made fists against the table, stuttering like a child. “For shame! Say it isn’t so.” \n\nAs he shook his head, not able to make sense of it, I looked at her. She wasn’t crumbling in shame. She sat with a straight back. She almost smiled. \n\n“It’s true,” she said. “I’m late. I threw up this morning.” \n\n“No,” father said, pulling at his hair. “We cannot call off the wedding. We will look like fools. We will be shunned! You have ruined us.” He pointed at her, before shaking his finger to himself. “Wait. Wait. You have to... You must! Talk to Henry. You will have to break the poor boy’s heart... But if you can agree to pretend it is his... Then you will have been guilty of no more than premarital sex. Oh lord.” \n\n“What,” she said. “You don’t think Henry also likes the thought of being a cuckold, like you?” \n\nFather closed his eyes. He grabbed his ears and hummed deliriously, as if wanting to forget. “Please. You don’t know what this does to me.” \n\n“Your little porcelain doll carrying the wrong man’s child? What, do you expect me to feel guilty?” \n\n“Who...” mother said. “Who is the father? Is it Achilles?” \n\nMercedes huffed gently. “You wish. More likely it was Dalton. By my count. I only had Achilles once.” \n\nI shook my head in disbelief. I couldn’t stop her. I couldn’t leave. There was nothing to do but watch. Mother gave me a disheartened look, her head askew, as if to ask whether it was true. I nodded with a shrug. \n\nFather leaned over the table. His humming staggered, turning into a hiss. He grabbed his stomach, as if the ordeal was giving him cramps. He gasped, and we all stared at him as if he were mad. \n\nMercedes laughed. “You’re touching yourself! You absolute whoremonger. Your own daughter. What does God think of that?” \n\nMother quietly giggled a mad sound, hiding behind her cup as she drank. “This might be a bad time to mention...” She set down the cup and folded her hands in her lap. “But mine might be Dalton’s too.” \n\nFather laughed. A slowly rising noise, raspy and deep. He looked out at the three of us, his teeth straining against each other. “I... cannot believe it. Our lives out with the bathwater. You like it too, don’t you? It gets the devil up in you, to see me squirm.” \n\n“You bet it does,” Mercedes said, closing her eyes with a satisfied hiss and trembling lips. “What are you going to do about it? Touch yourself to the thought of farmhands pouring cum into me?” She made a long rolling purr. \n\nFather rose. I instinctively pulled my chair back. Mercedes sat solidly in place, though her grin was becoming daring. \n\nHe grabbed her chin, lifting it. “By God. When Henry asked for your hand, I thought you were too good for him. But you’re not. You’re cheap. I can’t let him marry you. The town whore.” \n\nShe batted her eyes at him. “And with all that. I’m still too good for you.” \n\n“God, why oh why did you give me this daughter?” \n\nShe reached out, putting her palm to his crotch. “If you’re disappointed, then why is your cock this hard?” \n\n“Lord,” father said, his toothy grin wholly betraying all I knew about him. “If this punishment is not righteous... Then strike me down where I stand.” He grabbed her by the ruff and lifted her off the chair. He swept, sending plates and food crashing onto the floor. He dropped her over the table. \n\nShe released a drawn-out, shocked gasp. “You wouldn’t!” she said but raised her tail. \n\nHe pulled up her dress. “It’s my right.” He opened his pants. \n\n“Father,” she said, her voice suddenly weak. “Whatever you do. I still love you.” \n\n“Oh dearest,” he said, raising his cock. “I love you too.” He leaned into her, entering, and within a moment, her gasping harmonized with him. \n\nI sat, not believing my eyes. Was this what she had meant when she wanted her stomach to go woosh? Turning father from God? \n\nMother had risen and stood behind me, rubbing my shoulders. I looked up, feeling her breasts above me. “Aren’t you going to stop them?” \n\nShe sighed. “Should I? We’re even, he and I. Are we not?” \n\nI supposed it was true. “Are you really pregnant? Is it mine?” \n\n“I don’t know. But I hope it is.” She wrapped her arms around me. “Do you want to leave them to it? Or are you... excited?” \n\nI was hard, full of hate and love, my eyes fixed on my father and sister and the table shaking beneath them. “She didn’t even think about.” \n\nMother squeezed, her breasts pushing into my back. “Are you jealous?” \n\nI was more disappointed. Father didn’t deserve her. I had worked harder. Suffered longer. “She’s happy,” I said, most of all focused on Mercedes’ utter disregard for everything as she pushed back on father’s cock. \n\n“Aw,” mother said. “But what about me? Make me happy.” \n\nI nodded. Why should we let ourselves be left out? The damage was done. Mother dragged me up. She swept plates aside, more careful than father, and pushed me onto the table. I sat next to Mercedes, her tail close to whipping my face. Mother pulled off my pants and sat down on the chair. She pulled her breasts out of her dress and pushed them together. She stuck out her tongue and drooled on them with careless abandon. She licked my cock from bottom to tip, before enclosing her breasts around it. She smiled as she hugged it, the tip prodding at her ruff. As she swayed, her velvet body sending shivers through me, I almost forgot myself like Mercedes. \n\nMy eyes met with father’s. He didn’t disapprove. Or even nod in depraved pride. His gaze was stone-cold determination. \n\nMercedes pushed herself up from the table, arching her back. “Dalton,” she said, struggling to form the word. “Dalton. Your own mother. Do you like her better than me?” \n\nWhat an unfair question. \n\n“Shut up,” father said, saving me the trouble of answering. He pulled Mercedes back by the hair. “Look at me.” \n\nShe turned to face him. He pushed her into the table, pinning her by her arm and her throat. She lifted her legs to her shoulders. Staring into her eyes, his cock found its way inside her again. Her delighted whine sent jolts through my body. \n\nI finished over mother’s face, my orgasm drawn out and paralyzing. It spilled onto her breasts, still pressed against me, draining me of my energy. She groaned, tongue hanging limply, as if she was dizzy from the very scent of me. I caressed her by the ear, thankful after all. \n\nI pulled onto the table, crawling to Mercedes’ side. Father was holding her legs high, pressed against his cheeks. Anxious that someone would stop me, I slowly inched over her face. I wanted to see if she would recognize me through the haze. \n\nShe smiled when she saw me. She stirred every time father’s hips hit her but focused on me. \n\n“Why?” I asked faintly. “Why did this happen?” \n\nShe simply closed her eyes, as if trying to muster a plea for forgiveness, but unable to find the right words. \n\nI felt a wet tongue pressed against my rear, and I gasped like a girl. I glanced back at mother, who perched on a chair had pressed her nose under my tail. She licked, at once careful and insistent, pushing her tongue inside me. The new sensation rippled up my back, and I curled my tail around her head. \n\nWhen she lowered her tongue to my balls and started stroking my once again hardening cock, my mouth hung open. I drooled and before I could stop it, it dripped to Mercedes’ lips. She opened her mouth in turn and reached up to pull me down by the collar. \n\nWe met in a kiss, uncontrolled and overwhelmingly wet. \n\nWe found a rhythm, mother sending shivers into me, and father into Mercedes. My mind reeled as if drunk, and the moments started to slip. Mother couldn’t wait and crawled onto the table. I moved into her embrace. I fucked her, legs up, mirroring father and Mercedes. She held Mercedes’ hand, as if to reassure her. That we were even, all of us. \n\nFather finished into Mercedes’ cunt and pulled out, then spraying over her belly. He held her hip, running his thumb over her fur, as if he could see the swell of pregnancy already. \n\nI was sure saw I mother’s belly swelling too. I finished, pulling out and pouring all of myself onto it. \n\nOur relieved sighs were short-lived. Father was not done. He slapped one of Mercedes’ breasts dismissively, as if he was tired of her. He went around the table and pushed me away from mother. I slid off the table, almost tripping. \n\nOn the other side, Mercedes had gotten up, swaying deliriously. She caught my eyes and waved me ahead. \n\nAmazed that I still had anything left in me, I went to her and in each other’s embrace, we dropped to the floor. Above, mother and father whispered in each other’s ears. “You’re a devil,” mother said with a gasp. “You love it,” father answered. \n\nI entered Mercedes, arms wrapped around her, holding on for dear life. I felt father’s cum inside her, but I didn’t have it in me to care. \n\n“Sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry. Forgive me. Please forgive me.” \n\nI bit her neck, pretending for now that I wasn’t going to forgive her. Hearing her begging voice made me harder, and I supposed one more sin hardly made a difference.  \n\nThe wet slapping resounded in my ears and after what felt like hours, I fell at her side. \n\nI held her from behind, as if we were about to fall asleep. I pushed inside her ass and finished there. \n\n“Naughty,” she said, scratching me on my chin, perched over her shoulder. Parisa attempted to materialize beside me, but I blew her away. I didn’t need her anymore.  \n\nI would have slept, if I hadn’t known that the others would continue without me. So, I kept going, vowing not to be the one to drop first. \n\n \n\n26. \n\nWe made up a story for Henry. He was sat down in the dining room, and we wore practiced somber expressions. \n\nMercedes had been raped by Achilles. Stricken by shame, she had only admitted it after he had been fired. She shed a tear, burying her face in her hands. We all took turns embracing her. When she admitted that she was pregnant, Henry cried with her, holding tight enough that I feared he’d hurt her. He didn’t bat an eye, when she asked him if he still wanted to marry her. Of course, the wedding was still on. How could she doubt it? He would love her no matter what. Even if the child wasn’t his. \n\nPoor Henry. Unfortunately, the truth wasn’t an acceptable alternative. \n\nThe day finally came, and the four of us were seated in the carriage, driving towards the farm in the deep valley on the other side of the forest, where the wedding would take place. Our backs were straight. The sun was shining, making us sweat in our best clothes. \n\nMercedes smiled in her snow-white dress. We all knew I would visit her on the wedding night. \n\nFather’s hands were folded in his lap, and I thought I heard him whisper, as if talking to God. Whatever he thought of his family, he had opted against fighting us. Who knew? It might be God would make an exception for us. \n\nMother adjusted my collar and told me I looked gorgeous. \n\nWas I? I looked among the trees, watching the crows closely. I wondered what had happened to Achilles. Probably, ours wasn’t the first farm where he had left someone pregnant, making people spin stories about rape to cover up their shortcomings. Probably, he was already on to the next one, working to slither into a young daughter’s bed. Seeing the world. \n\nI thought about his last words to me and got inexplicably afraid. It would all come crashing down. I couldn’t understand that I was allowed to sin, without something or someone coming with a pitchfork to spear me. \n\n“Are you alright?” mother asked, touching my shoulder. \n\nI steadied my breathing and nodded. “Just stomach cramps.” \n\nA gunshot made us all flinch, turning our heads. The donkeys ahead of us stalled and Ruben clutched the reins with his ears raised. From the woods around us rode in four cloaked men. Two wolves and two pumas.  \n\nHighwaymen. This was it. God had decided against us.  \n\nThree pointed revolvers at us, one a shotgun. The larger of them, a puma with a wide-brimmed hat, stepped down and approached the carriage with his revolver lazily lifted at his side. \n\n“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, speaking through the stub of a cigar in the corner of his mouth. “Please step out.” He was scarred across his cheeks and had terrifying pale eyes. \n\n“Black-Ear Bully,” father said as he stepped out as the first of us, hands lifted in submission. “You’ve sure got a pair on you, roaming these parts. What’s the bounty... A thousand dollars?” \n\n“More, I should hope. What, you see yourself cashing it? Charming of you.” \n\nThe rest of us followed. Mother held an arm around Mercedes. I tried to look as small as possible. Ruben stumbled off the carriage, shivering audibly. \n\n“You realize,” father said. “That you are interrupting... Our way to my daughter’s wedding?” \n\n“How dastardly of us,” Bully said, leaning to get a look at Mercedes. “Hats off. That’s quite the bride you‘ve bred on your wife there, sir. Now, I was thinking we’d just take your riches. I’m sure there are some nice wedding gifts aboard. But we’ve a long way to Whitmourne, and we need solace, so why don’t I relieve you of her. She looks tender in your wife’s arms. Might be we take them both.” My heart sank. \n\n“Bull,” the wolf with the shotgun called. “You’re greedy. You planning to feed them sand in the desert?” \n\nBully shrugged. “Just the one then.” \n\nFather snarled. “You won’t be taking any of them.” He leapt forth, aiming a fist at Bully’s chin. \n\nBully weaved aside, striking father’s temple with an elbow. He kneed father in the stomach twice, then struck his skull with the revolver’s hilt. Father sunk to the ground, curled up and groaning. \n\nBully spun the gun in his hand. “You absolute idiot. We have guns. Don’t force me to kill a father in front of his son.” \n\nRuben turned and ran. The wolf leapt off his donkey and struck Ruben with the shotgun’s stock. Ruben fell without fight and with the wolf’s paw in his back, he lay motionless. \n\n“Now,” Bully said, stepping forward. He tossed the cigar stump aside. “Don’t fight it. It can be painless. Fun even.” \n\n“Take me,” mother said, clutching Mercedes. “Let the girl have her wedding.” \n\nI eyed her, faintly wondering if she imagined it would be anything like her stories. Whether she had hopes she would like it. \n\n“Nah,” Bully said. “You look alike. I’ll have the younger.” \n\nMercedes didn’t move as he stepped closer. Her face was still as a lake on a windless day. If not for her wet eyes, I would have thought she had fainted where she stood. \n\nThey couldn’t have her. My idea wasn’t great, but it was an idea still. “What about me?” I said, taking long steps. I placed myself between them. “I’ll come with you, if you leave my sister.” \n\nBully glanced at his men, and they all chucked. He hissed. “Why would I want you, you piss-stain. I’m sure you think we’ll take anything up the arse, and I’m sure you’re tight as a nun, but if you think you can take my eyes off the lady, go fuck yourself.” \n\nI put forth my chest. “I’ll learn to shoot. I’ll rob trains, lasso the lawmen for you. But leave my sister alone.” \n\n“No, Dalton,” mother whispered. \n\nBully shrugged. “How old are you? Ever hold a gun?” \n\n“Fourteen,” I lied. “I’ll be more than some hole to fuck. I’ll make you a lot of money.” \n\nHe stepped closer, the shade of his hat falling on me. He looked down on me. “All fourteen-year-olds think they can shoot like God almighty, next thing, they’re shitting themselves at the gallows, and you can bet your tail that I won’t be there to cut the rope.” \n\nI stood on my toes, baring my teeth. My heartbeat was threatening to kill me where I stood. “If you take her, kill me here, or I will... hunt. You. Down. I will fuck you. I will skewer your head on a stick.” \n\nHe narrowed his eyes in fury. Then he smiled, a grimace widening into a bellowing grin, resounding into the woods. “Hear that?” He pointed to me, looking at his men. “This little prick has got heavier nuts than any of you.” \n\n“Bull,” the wolf said with an impatient sigh. “You’re not considering it.” \n\n“I’ll damn well consider anything I damn well please, you imbecile.” Bully shoved the barrel of his gun against my nose. “Each time you miss a shot, kid... I’ll dress you up like your sister and fuck you. Understood?” \n\nI nodded frantically. \n\n“Good.” Bully waved his men ahead. The rest dismounted. One pointed his gun at father who had made a move to get off the ground. Bully and the other wolf started looting the carriage. \n\nMother seized the opportunity to embrace me. “What are you doing?” she said, as if meaning to scold me. “Don’t be stupid.” \n\n“Well,” I said. “They didn’t want you.” \n\n“My wedding,” Mercedes said, shaking her head confused. “You won’t be... at my wedding.” \n\n“I’m sorry,” I said. “Forgive me.” \n\n“Enough with that,” Bully said, striking my ear with a flat hand. He grabbed my neck skin and pulled me along. Before I knew it, I had been tossed into his donkey’s saddle. He leapt up behind me. He smelled of cigars and gunpowder, and I instantly regretted my decision. My eyes became wet, and it took my all not to sob. \n\nThe three others rode to his side. He nodded to them. “Good run. Ride.” \n\nI leaned to the side, glancing back as we rode off. \n\nFather and Ruben were rising. Mother and Mercedes held each other. \n\nMercedes raised a hand, waving a farewell. I couldn’t bear to look. I stared ahead, trying to think of why I had done it. To save Mercedes? Sure. \n\nBut mostly? Mostly I wanted to see the world. \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n\nIndex. \n\n \n\n1. Introduction. \n\n2. Banter between Eloise and Achilles. \n\n3. Banter between Mercedes and Dalton. \n\n4. Nina teaches Dalton. \n\n5. Dalton and Cole fix a fence. \n\n6. Cole leaves on a side quest. \n\n7. Achilles, Trick, Mercedes, and Eloise play hearts. \n\n8. Achilles, Trick, and Nina have sex in the barn. \n\n9. Dalton has a sexual awakening at the morning table. \n\n10. Achilles trips Dalton, and Eloise rewards him with sex. \n\n11. Dalton, Mercedes, Henry, Achilles, and Eloise have dinner. Eloise and Achilles have sex upstairs. \n\n12. Dalton sleeps in Mercedes' room and ejaculates on her. \n\n13. Mercedes gives Henry a hand job by the river. \n\n14. Mercedes banters with Achilles. \n\n15. Achilles deflowers Mercedes. \n\n16. Cole returns from his side quest. Achilles is fired and confesses to Cole. \n\n17. Dalton dreams that he has sex with an angel he dubs Parisa. \n\n18. Nina deflowers Dalton. \n\n19. Birthday party. Nina gives Dalton a blowjob. \n\n20. Cowboy hat gets mended, and Eloise is shocked that Dalton wants sex. \n\n21. Dalton and Eloise have sex. From under the bed, he hears Cole and Eloise have sex.  \n\n22. Mercedes and Dalton leave for a festival. Dalton has flashback to anal sex with Eloise, then Nina. \n\n23. Mercedes and Dalton have sex. Young bunny girl catches them engaging in bukkake. \n\n24. Dalton licks Mercedes beneath her wedding dress. Cole, Eloise, and Trick have sex upstairs.  \n\n25. A fateful dinner with confessions. Everyone has sex. \n\n26. Coda.",
  "writing_bbcode_parsed": "<span style='word-wrap: break-word;'>Disclaimers: <br /><br />Contains sexual depictions of minors (one male), incest, and a lot of infidelity. <br />I do not condone any of the acts presented in this work of fiction. <br />I make no pretense of the work amounting to anything more than caricature; my knowledge of the Wild West stems solely from Red Dead Redemption 2, and it&rsquo;s been a while.<br /><br />Worldbuilding: <br />- Species with humanoid morphology in this work are: cats, horses, bunnies, dogs, wolves, foxes, and deer <br />- To avoid confusion, these species do not exist in other incarnations&nbsp;&nbsp;<br />- Assume all other species are still dumb and walk on four legs <br />- Cowboys now ride donkeys <br />- When humanoid species breed among each other, the offspring is of the same species as the mother <br />- The Earth is flat, and evolution isn&rsquo;t real <br />- Nobody knows if God is real <br /><br />&nbsp;<br /><br /><br /><em>Meowmere </em><br /><br /><span class='font_title'>The Cream of the Crop </span><br /><br />&nbsp;<br /><br />1. <br /><br />That summer, life at the farmstead was a whirlwind. It started when our father hired a new hand. Or it started with my habit of eavesdropping, without which I suppose I would have been an oblivious kitten for a while longer. <br /><br />His name was Achilles. He was a lean horse, a light, glistening brown, mottled with white specks. Girls fancied the blonde curl of his mane. He was good looking, even I could tell. But the white fur of the resident Callaghan family&rsquo;s girls and their fae-like silver-pale hair were prettier, if you asked me.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />Our father didn&rsquo;t see the signs. He was only focused on the corn harvest, the Sunday prayers, and news of skirmishes with the Indians to the West. As long as Achilles pulled his weight, lugging corn across the grounds, our father couldn&rsquo;t be happier. <br /><br />But Achilles was a slick son-of-a-bitch, who fancied my mother and my older sister as much as I did. He had the same innate urge to reach for what he couldn&rsquo;t have. Except he lacked the shame to hold back. <br /><br />&nbsp;<br /><br />2. <br /><br />I had made a habit of following my mother around, climbing the fences and low roofs. She and the workers laughed at my immature audacity. <br /><br />They couldn&rsquo;t tell I only did it to make it easier to look down her cleavage. It was a mystery that the fascination had waited my whole life to set in. The deep shadow between her breasts, bright in the sun, was hypnotizing. I was realizing that the tying in of her dress around her waist, pushing them up, was something you did to attract men. I saw others looking at times. I was a man. A boy. One who had to imagine the firmness or be slapped like the farmhands who threw raunchy words at the milkmaids.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />She sat, reading in the young summer&rsquo;s heat. An unlabeled book she claimed contained religious fiction. The wondrous thickness of her tail batted, as if she had reached a passage that she liked. <br /><br />I lay on the roof above, chewing a straw of grass. Here, she couldn&rsquo;t see me touching myself between my legs. I wondered how fucking happened. People always perked up or cowered when they heard the word, and I was afraid of saying it aloud. <br /><br />&ldquo;Dalton,&rdquo; she said, without looking up. &ldquo;Will you fetch me the new hand?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;What for?&rdquo; I was comfortable here. <br /><br />&ldquo;Not much. Please.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Fine.&rdquo; <br /><br />I leapt down, denting the ground, and ran for the field where Achilles was picking corn. He was sweating and had opted to work without a shirt. <br /><br />&ldquo;Hey,&rdquo; I said, skidding to a stop. I spat out the straw. &ldquo;My mother wants to talk.&rdquo; <br /><br />Achilles whistled, setting down his basket. &ldquo;She does, does she? Did she seem mad?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Not at all.&rdquo; <br /><br />He nodded, flicking his tail and clicking his tongue. &ldquo;Lucky for me. Lead the way.&rdquo; <br /><br />We walked back, meeting my mother&rsquo;s beaming smile. She rose. &ldquo;Thank you, Dalton. Now, be a dear and run back to the farm. Don&rsquo;t you have mathematics to practice with Miss Button?&rdquo; <br /><br />I did, but what did she need to talk about that I couldn&rsquo;t hear? I was about to complain, but then nodded. I wasn&rsquo;t planning on willingly going to study with the plump bunny. I walked quietly around the fence, before dropping down. I crawled along the thick grass, finding a spot where I could see the two of them while I heard them talk. <br /><br />&ldquo;Missus Callaghan,&rdquo; Achilles said, hand on his hip. <br /><br />&ldquo;Mister Hart,&rdquo; she replied. &ldquo;How are you today? Work treating you well?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Fine and good. How is reading treating you?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Oh, you know. Always a surprise on the page you least expect. Hart. Has my husband mentioned that we need some work done on the main building?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;No, he has not. What did he have in mind?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Oh, the window frame outside our bedroom is drooping. You can straighten it out in an afternoon.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;My.&rdquo; Achilles crossed his arms. &ldquo;You are inviting me to look inside your bedroom? Are you sure there aren&rsquo;t tasks for me to do, where I won&rsquo;t risk my vigorous heartbeat shaking me down the ladder?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Mister Hart,&rdquo; mother said feigning offense. She crossed her arms in turn. &ldquo;If I didn&rsquo;t know better, I would say you were flirting. All sense would bid you limit that to the young girls that visit us plenty.&rdquo; She leaned daringly forward, and I could imagine the view. <br /><br />&ldquo;Oh, those girls have nothing on you, Eloise.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I&rsquo;m serious, Achilles.&rdquo; Her tone approached genuine frustration. &ldquo;If you are not careful, Cole will hear, and you will be out of a job, faster than you can pull off a shirt. Remind me to warn Mercedes of your loose tongue. Young airheads might be foolish enough to fall for that. I see what you are. A trickster. Mean-spirited.&rdquo; She paused with a sound near a gasp. &ldquo;A... sinner.&rdquo; <br /><br />He huffed a meek laugh. &ldquo;You are awfully presumptuous, Eloise. You think a girl as smart as your daughter would fall for petty trickery. I might have to prove you wrong.&rdquo; <br /><br />She put an accusing finger to his chest. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t. Get any ideas. I have seen sleazes such as yourself strung up when betrothed girls get slighted.&rdquo; <br /><br />His smile persisted. &ldquo;If you are trying to scare me... You are doing a poor job.&rdquo; <br /><br />She pushed up her nose and laughed. &ldquo;The Lord will see that this haughty attitude comes back to bite you. Good day, Achilles.&rdquo; She turned and left. <br /><br />I crept deeper into the grass. My prayers were heard, and she didn&rsquo;t notice me as she strode past, her book primly tucked against her stomach.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />Achilles laughed to himself. &ldquo;By God, if you aren&rsquo;t asking for it.&rdquo; <br /><br />I was confused as to why she didn&rsquo;t simply tell on him, if she found him annoying. Though I didn&rsquo;t like the look on Achilles, I was curious what exactly he thought mother was asking for. <br /><br />&nbsp;<br /><br />3. <br /><br />I found my sister braiding dandelions by the well in the courtyard. Nina would soon start yelling for me, but I could yet savor my freedom.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />She wore a crown of flowers, already braided. With the intricate curls of her near-white hair framing her face, I found her the model image of a princess. She took after her mother, with fur even whiter. I couldn&rsquo;t bear the thought that she would have to be stolen away to another home within the year.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />I hopped onto the edge of the well. Her breasts were not as large as mother&rsquo;s. But they had a better shape. I wondered if she was aware of the difference. Touching myself unnoticed here was harder than on a roof. <br /><br />She didn&rsquo;t pay mind to me, as she was used to my skulking around. <br /><br />&ldquo;Mercedes,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;If a boy told you that you made his heart beat faster. What would you do?&rdquo; <br /><br />She chuckled like a dove. &ldquo;What a silly question. You mean Henry? He does have a way with words, when his throat doesn&rsquo;t knot up, the poor puppy.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;No, not him.&rdquo; She wouldn&rsquo;t shut up about her Henry, who would get to touch her breasts. Not me.&nbsp;&nbsp;&ldquo;Any other boy.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;That would be inappropriate, Dalton. Even if a boy didn&rsquo;t know that I am already betrothed, he shouldn&rsquo;t be so forward.&rdquo; <br /><br />She was dodging the question. &ldquo;But what would you do?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I suppose I would tell him, loud and clear, that my heart beats only for one. And if he did anything but nod in understanding, I suppose I would slap him. Like this.&rdquo; She waved her hand through the air. &ldquo;Slap.&rdquo; <br /><br />I imagined being the target and hissed. <br /><br />&ldquo;You&rsquo;re not looking for romantic advice for chasing girls already taken, are you, Dalton? Who is it? Are you perhaps head over heels for Miss Button?&rdquo; She folded her hands and swayed gently. <br /><br />&ldquo;Absolutely not!&rdquo; She was cute with her round cheeks, but annoying. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m not in love with anyone.&rdquo; That felt like lying. But what did I know of love? <br /><br />&ldquo;Ah, just when I thought my little brother was looking to grow up. Don&rsquo;t worry. You&rsquo;ll find yourself a sweet girl to chase soon enough. You&rsquo;ve got your lucky mark. They&rsquo;ll swarm to you.&rdquo; <br /><br />I touched my cheek, where my fur pattern drew a horseshoe. It had yet to bring me any fortune. I wanted to tell her that I didn&rsquo;t want to chase just any girl. But eventually, I might have to. I didn&rsquo;t know what to say. She kept braiding. <br /><br />I sighed. &ldquo;Do you like the new farmhand?&rdquo; <br /><br />She looked at me and frowned. &ldquo;Achilles? Why do you ask?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I think he has fallen in love with mother.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Ah, what luck.&rdquo; She laughed. &ldquo;Might be he will leave me alone then.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;He has been bothering you?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Yes. No. He has been doing that God-awful thing where he strokes my cheek as if I am a pet.&rdquo; She shuddered. &ldquo;And he said girls aren&rsquo;t that pretty where he comes from. I know he&rsquo;s used to girls jumping at him, simply for being a horse, but he&rsquo;s got another thing coming.&rdquo; <br /><br />What was so great about being a horse? &ldquo;Did you slap him?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;God no. He&rsquo;s so big. What if fury took him? He doesn&rsquo;t know any better.&rdquo; <br /><br />So, if you were big enough, she couldn&rsquo;t help but let you do as you pleased? I felt my hopes sinking. &ldquo;Mercedes.&rdquo; I swallowed. &ldquo;Other girls have nothing on you.&rdquo; <br /><br />She looked up, perplexed. &ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Nothing. You are pretty, is all.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Oh you.&rdquo; She rose from the grass and embraced me. Her breasts were comfortably close. &ldquo;You rascal. Save the poetry for someone else. Because as you know...&rdquo; She poked my nose. &ldquo;I am taken.&rdquo; <br /><br />She kissed my head and turned away. As she skipped, palms downward, her hair and tail swayed softly.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />I sat, carefully feeling the burning warmth where her lips had touched me.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />4. <br /><br />Nina Button found me and insistently dragged me into the common room. The homework lay fanned out on the table. <br /><br />She donned her round glasses, making the already round look of a bunny overdone. &ldquo;So, my little buddy Dally. Today is division, which is like taking a little number and seeing how big it becomes if we slice it up and share it between little you and a bunch of your friends. See? So, if we take fooour apples. And divide it by twooo friends. Then you have fooour apples split into two. And that&rsquo;s two apples. Because two times two is four. Remember how we&rsquo;ve gone through multiplication?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Yes, Miss Button. I remember. I also know how to divide.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;So, if you have teeen apples. And then divide it by fooour of your best friends. Then you can have twooo for each. And then with the rest, it makes... Three. No wait... It&rsquo;s. How was it again?&rdquo; <br /><br />I wondered whether her boyfriend had fucked her, or if she was waiting until marriage, like father insisted Mercedes did. It had something to do with God. Honestly, when the drunk farmhands shouted about fucking in the late night, I got the sense that you would have a lot more fun if it wasn&rsquo;t for God. <br /><br />Nina&rsquo;s boyfriend was one of the horses from Henry&rsquo;s farm. I wondered why horses were so popular. I had heard some of the dogs saying something about horses always winning pissing contests. <br /><br />I imagined Nina naked. Then I imagined mother and Mercedes. They were far better. <br /><br />I crossed my legs, as my cock had decided to stand up. A cock was what grown-ups called it. <br /><br />&ldquo;Are you listening?&rdquo; Nina asked and I shook myself out of my daydream. <br /><br />&ldquo;Yes. Sorry.&rdquo; <br /><br />Father entered and dropped a sack of oats in the corner. His bearded face smiled at the two of us. &ldquo;Good to see you hard at work.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve got to say, Cole,&rdquo; Nina said. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know if we can get this boy ready for an exam. He has too much trouble concentrating. Don&rsquo;t you, buddy?&rdquo; <br /><br />I wanted to slap her. Fuck her glasses off her stupid round face. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m doing just fine. A hundred divided by eight is twelve point five. Can I go?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;No, buddy. One hundred divided by eight is... it&rsquo;s.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Actually,&rdquo; father said. &ldquo;I could use his help fixing the broken fence.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Oh fine,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Be like that. I&rsquo;ll do the divisions by myself, thank you.&rdquo; <br /><br />I rose, longing for the outdoors. I tried not to think of what lecture father had planned. <br /><br />&nbsp;<br /><br />5. <br /><br />&ldquo;Then you hold it like this. Good.&rdquo; Father spoke, mumbling through the nails in his mouth. <br /><br />I held the board in place as instructed. Father brought forth a nail and started hammering. I studied his tired eyes, wondering if that was where I was heading. &ldquo;Can I hammer in one?&rdquo; I didn&rsquo;t really want to. The sound was giving me a headache. I tried to imagine it was gunfire. <br /><br />Father kept hammering. &ldquo;Not the fence that holds the livestock. You should practice a bit in the workshop with your own hammer first.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t have a hammer.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Really?&rdquo; Father hesitated. &ldquo;Every boy your age should have their own hammer.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;You can get me one for my birthday next month.&rdquo; I would rather have a gun. <br /><br />Father nodded in appreciation. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re turning thirteen, yes. My word, kids grow up so fast. It seems only yesterday that Mercedes was all about dolls. And now she is sighing over that Henry boy. Soon, you&rsquo;ll be getting your own place.&rdquo; He shook his head. He put another nail to the board, but hesitated. He took the nails from his mouth, so he could speak clearly. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re a good kid, Dalton. Do you remember Martin&rsquo;s son, Ike?&rdquo;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />&ldquo;I do.&rdquo; He took me fishing once. <br /><br />&ldquo;He died earlier today. Syphilis. God has punished him for his frivolous ways with the village whores, going through them, like a snake through a swamp.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Horrible.&rdquo; Why are you telling me this? <br /><br />&ldquo;Proverbs, twenty-two, six. Start children off on the way they should go, and even when they are old, they will not turn from it. I want you to stay on God&rsquo;s path. When you grow up, I would be the happiest if you turned to priesthood. You have a way with words. And I promise you... That is where you will shine. No need to sweat in the sun, hammering nails like your old man.&rdquo; <br /><br />Not again with the Bible verses. Even becoming an outlaw sounded more appealing. &ldquo;But... What if I want a girlfriend?&rdquo; Would my mother like it if I were a priest? <br /><br />&ldquo;You can be a priest and marry. As long as you remain pure of heart and don&rsquo;t surrender to your passions. Then God will smile upon you.&rdquo; <br /><br />Didn&rsquo;t you fuck mother to make me and Mercedes? I bet you didn&rsquo;t care what God thought then. &ldquo;Thank you, father. I will think on it.&rdquo; I wouldn&rsquo;t. <br /><br />&nbsp;<br /><br />6. <br /><br />The next day, the sheriff rode into our courtyard. A grumpy looking puma, glaring as if trying to burn the place to the ground with his eyes. I stared at his gun, imagining him fanning the hammer at outlaws. <br /><br />The farm&rsquo;s residents poured out curiously. <br /><br />Father approached him. &ldquo;Sir. How may we be of service?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Good day, Cole. We need able-bodied men. This morning, the mayor didn&rsquo;t return with the rest of the hunting party. There are concerns that bears may have caught him unaware. I&rsquo;m gathering a search party.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I understand,&rdquo; father said. &ldquo;For... how long do you imagine I&rsquo;ll be needed?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;At least two days, though how could I say for certain?&rdquo; <br /><br />Father nodded. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll come with. Give me half an hour to make sure I leave the business well-oiled. Might be I can convince some of the hands to come along.&rdquo; <br /><br />The sheriff tipped his hat. <br /><br />Mother put her fingertips to her lips as father approached us. &ldquo;A search party? Could that be dangerous?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Likely not. Still, it is work that needs doing. And it is work that I can do, so I will. God willing, I&rsquo;ll return with some bear for the cookpot, eh?&rdquo; <br /><br />Mother gathered food that would keep well. I gathered clothing to ward off the weather. Mercedes spread the word, asking if any of the hands felt able-bodied enough to find the mayor. Two agreed to join. <br /><br />Father reverently took down the rifle hanging above the fireplace. He stroked it as if being forced to use it would cause him great pain. <br /><br />They saddled up the best donkeys. We were about to say our farewells, when Achilles stepped up, favoring one hoof over the other. &ldquo;Hey. I was meaning to join, but I&rsquo;m afraid I sprained my ankle when I fell, working on the window frame. I&rsquo;d slow you down.&rdquo; <br /><br />Father looked at mother, pointing at Achilles. &ldquo;Is he lying?&rdquo; There was an uncomfortable breath of silence, before father burst out laughing. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m kidding!&rdquo; He put a hand on Achilles shoulder. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t mention it. We need strong men here to hold the fort. Who knows? One day those dirty Indians will decide they want our women, no? I&rsquo;ll be counting on you then.&rdquo; He nodded to the sheriff and mounted his donkey. He reached out, caressing Mercedes&rsquo; cheek. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll send letters if I&rsquo;m too long.&rdquo; He nodded to me. &ldquo;Man of the house now. Best of luck.&rdquo; <br /><br />We waved as father and the two hands rode after the sheriff, out of the courtyard. <br /><br />I could have sworn, the moment father was out of sight, Achilles no longer showed any sign of a sprained ankle. <br /><br />&nbsp;<br /><br />7.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />The farmstead seemed silent that evening. The workers poured out of the mess hall, rubbing stomachs full of the chef&rsquo;s beloved soup. <br /><br />I was considering going to the river downhill, to see if I could catch a glimpse of one of the girls bathing. But I was caught off guard by an exchange I wasn&rsquo;t meant to overhear. <br /><br />&ldquo;...Could only pick one? Then you can have the mother. Something about lifting the daughter with my cock alone...&rdquo; <br /><br />It was Achilles, who had apparently taken a liking to the dark dog they called Trick. They walked with purpose, the horse carrying a knapsack ringing with the sound of bottles touching. <br /><br />I decided to follow at a safe distance. The words echoed in my head, as I tried to decipher their meaning. I imagined Mercedes lifted by his cock and felt an awkward swirl. How could he say that without hesitation? <br /><br />Achilles seemed unable to stop talking, leaning near Trick to whisper. He motioned in soft curves with his palms. Trick spoke only few words, nodding along in deep appreciation. <br /><br />They approached the gazebo, an outpost of intricate carpentry, overtaken by tendrils of thorned flowers. In it sat my mother and sister, exercising a tradition of theirs: comparing their embroidery talents. <br /><br />I skirted around, taking care to approach the outpost from the far side without getting noticed. I placed myself among the branches of a bramble patch. From here, I could watch over them. <br /><br />The horse and the dog forced the steps and approached the Callaghan girls, like soldiers to royalty. Mother and Mercedes looked up, silently agreeing to let the newcomers speak uninterrupted. <br /><br />&ldquo;Ladies,&rdquo; Achilles said, placing his knapsack on the table. &ldquo;I regret to interrupt. But I was in town the other day, and a salesman who claimed to have brought them from overseas managed to sell me these.&rdquo; He produced three bottles of wine. &ldquo;I was surely scammed, but I was hoping you might enjoy them with us, easing my regret. We can play a hand or two of hearts while we&rsquo;re at it.&rdquo; <br /><br />The cats looked to each other, flicking their whiskers in amusement. <br /><br />&ldquo;Oh, I don&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; mother said. &ldquo;Wine always gets me off my feet like a goose on ice.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Come now,&rdquo; Mercedes said, laughing as she took one of the bottles to examine it. &ldquo;Father never brings home wine. It&rsquo;s always scotch and rum. My fingers could use a rest.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;That&rsquo;s the spirit,&rdquo; Achilles said, sitting into one of the empty chairs. He pointed for Trick to do the same. <br /><br />Mother crossed her arms, clearly considering sending them off. &ldquo;I suppose we shouldn&rsquo;t be rude. It looks to be good wine.&rdquo; She shrugged and set down the embroidery frame.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />&ldquo;Do you know how to play hearts?&rdquo; Achilles asked, passing out cups. Trick was already shuffling a set of playing cards. <br /><br />Both cats shook their heads. As Achilles poured wine, Trick started explaining with frightening efficiency. I couldn&rsquo;t seem to remember him ever speaking a full sentence before. In the game, you played for as few points as possible, the points being each card in the suit of hearts. <br /><br />&ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; Mercedes said. &ldquo;So, it should in fact be called heartless.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;But,&rdquo; Achilles said, lifting a finger. &ldquo;Heartless is a decidedly grim name. And here we are jolly, yes?&rdquo; <br /><br />She nodded. &ldquo;Quite jolly.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t purr on my account.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you know,&rdquo; she said, straightening her back. &ldquo;Purring is decidedly unladylike.&rdquo; <br /><br />He smirked. &ldquo;We&rsquo;ll see.&rdquo; <br /><br />They started playing. All drank their wine, and even mother seemed to forget her reluctance. The first round came to a stop when the queen of spades was played. <br /><br />&ldquo;This one,&rdquo; Trick said, pointing to her. &ldquo;I forgot to mention. She is worth thirteen points. As many as all hearts combined.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;That&rsquo;s not fair!&rdquo; Mercedes said. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m the one taking this trick. You did that on purpose.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Those are the rules,&rdquo; Achilles said. &ldquo;You should always be careful when taking a trick.&rdquo; Only I seemed to see how Achilles and Trick shared a gluttonous nod. <br /><br />&ldquo;A poisonous queen,&rdquo; mother said, drinking deep. &ldquo;Queens can be like that. You should treat them with care.&rdquo; <br /><br />Achilles raised his glass to her. &ldquo;Ah, but tonight I only see sweet queens. Gentle as swaying wheat.&rdquo; <br /><br />Mercedes put her hands to her pink nose, flustered. <br /><br />&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t be so sure,&rdquo; mother said, leaning forward with sly eyes. &ldquo;We might just beat you at this silly game.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I always like a challenge, Missus Callaghan,&rdquo; Achilles said, pouring more wine for her. <br /><br />The next round neither of the cats took any points and the men had to sit back, admitting defeat with dignified nods. <br /><br />&ldquo;Are we keeping score?&rdquo; Mercedes asked. &ldquo;What do we get if we win?&rdquo; <br /><br />Achilles nodded sideways. &ldquo;More wine.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Easy,&rdquo; mother said, swaying where she sat. &ldquo;We might get drunk. It would be decidedly improper.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Hey now,&rdquo; Achilles said. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t let us tell you that you can&rsquo;t be improper. Limber up. Do as you feel.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;In the book I am reading,&rdquo; mother said. &ldquo;Doing as you feel is quite the dangerous undertaking. The characters all throw caution to the wind and... gamble their fortunes away. Wine is to blame.&rdquo; <br /><br />Trick put his head askew. &ldquo;What is your book about?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Oh...&rdquo; mother said. She hesitated before shaking her head. &ldquo;I doubt you&rsquo;d find it interesting. It is boring old romance.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Mother,&rdquo; Mercedes said. &ldquo;Romance? Is real life not enough for you? Father is plenty romantic to you. I feel bad for him.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;That is unfair. I love your father. It has nothing to do with him. It is simply amusing to... dream yourself away to someplace else.&rdquo; She sipped at an empty cup. <br /><br />&ldquo;There is no shame in that,&rdquo; Achilles said, reaching out to pour her more wine. <br /><br />Several hands more were dealt, and the cats slouched more and more in their seats. I wondered how drinking so much wine felt. I wondered if the men were only pretending to drink. I saw Achilles&rsquo; scheme. He wanted to remain sharp. I felt as if I needed to leap in and shout my discovery. That the cats were getting cheated. But I remained in place. <br /><br />Suddenly, Mercedes looked down, finding Achilles&rsquo; hand on her thigh. She gasped, leaping up. Barely retaining balance, she slapped him, sending cards flying. One hand was a fist at her side, the other pointed at him. &ldquo;Who do you think you are, you... you scoundrel. I am promised. If you forget it again... I&rsquo;ll have my father... beat you to pulp.&rdquo; She staved off, her tail defiantly pointed at the ground. She didn&rsquo;t look back. <br /><br />I smirked. I guess you can&rsquo;t work magic. The Callaghan girls could defend themselves. <br /><br />The remaining three smiled awkwardly at each other. Achilles raised his palms and sighed. &ldquo;I grazed her, honest.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;That girl.&rdquo; Mother laughed to herself. &ldquo;She&rsquo;s so sensitive. So young yet.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Doesn&rsquo;t seem like she knows how to have fun yet.&rdquo; Achilles reached out for the final bottle of wine. &ldquo;Good thing others do.&rdquo; <br /><br />Mother lifted a hand. &ldquo;Stop, please.&rdquo; She made a disarming smile. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m outnumbered. I can&rsquo;t be having the two of you ganging up on me like that.&rdquo; She rose, struggling to maintain a dignified air. She put a hand to Achilles cheek as she went by him. She stopped, as if lost in thought. &ldquo;I must be going. Thanks for the wine.&rdquo; She let go of him and walked after Mercedes. <br /><br />Left were Achilles, arms crossed, and Trick shuffling cards. <br /><br />Trick smiled. &ldquo;Shit luck, huh?&rdquo;&nbsp;&nbsp; <br /><br />Achilles gathered up the cups. &ldquo;Mercedes is just as stubborn as me. But Eloise is coming around.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Not tonight, by my estimate.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Steady wins the race.&rdquo;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />Trick shrugged. &ldquo;Is it worth the effort? They&rsquo;re cats. They&rsquo;re too good for you.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Have you seen them? They&rsquo;re the cream of the crop, Trick. I&rsquo;ll die trying.&rdquo; Achilles picked up the last bottle of wine. &ldquo;Let&rsquo;s go see if the bunny will take this off our hands. It&rsquo;ll be like stealing from the lame, but you know. Half a loaf.&rdquo; <br /><br />Trick nodded. They rose and left. <br /><br />I followed, feeling that if I hadn&rsquo;t been caught so far, I had to do it. Achilles seemed to conjure confidence from nothing. He was bound to overstep eventually... <br /><br />&nbsp;<br /><br />8. <br /><br />The two found Nina and dragged her to the barn, waving the wine at her nose. I knew all the secrets of the place, and one climb of a ladder on the backside later, I had nested myself in the hayloft, with a wide view of the floor below. <br /><br />The men had placed Nina in between them, smoking tobacco, as she drank wine. She needed little convincing to down most of the bottle on her own. &ldquo;God, you guys are the only ones who understand me,&rdquo; she said, already leaning close against Trick. &ldquo;All day, it&rsquo;s just yap yap yap. The chef spilled broth on my skirt, the bastard. Asked me to clean up, then go change, or I would be the only ugly thing in his kitchen. Then he grabbed my ass.&rdquo; She spat to the side. <br /><br />I&rsquo;d always known Nina as gentle, if a little airheaded. I never thought of grabbing her ass until now. Suddenly, it was the only thought in my head. I could slap her. My dumb math teacher. <br /><br />&ldquo;Can you blame him?&rdquo; Achilles said. &ldquo;Imagine him walking around someone so inviting. A man would lose his mind.&rdquo; He blew smoke at her, his lips hovering close to hers. <br /><br />She put the bottle to her mouth, swallowing the contents with wet gulps. She wiped away the red drops. She looked disheveled, even in the low light. She put a finger to Achilles&rsquo; chest. &ldquo;You... You&rsquo;re. I think you&rsquo;re...&rdquo; She burped. <br /><br />Achilles didn&rsquo;t flinch. He put his mouth to hers in a kiss. Not like I had seen them before. It looked for a moment as if he would eat her. They drooled on each other, her making muted gasps. Her lips enclosed around his tongue, as if afraid he would retract. Something in me stirred. It was the same as when I imagined the Callaghan girls naked, but more powerful. <br /><br />Trick seemed unbothered. He put his hands to Nina&rsquo;s shoulders and started to pull off her shirt. <br /><br />This was it. They were about to fuck. I knew it was wrong. I was supposed to leave. Swiftly bring Nina&rsquo;s boyfriend from the other farm, so a proper fistfight could ensue for her honor. <br /><br />But Nina&rsquo;s frail panting seemed too far gone, when Trick&rsquo;s hands lifted her heavy breasts. He leaned against her neck with soft growling. I stared, stretching my neck. Don&rsquo;t do it. She was an annoying teacher. But she was my teacher. She let it happen. &ldquo;God,&rdquo; she hissed. &ldquo;Take me.&rdquo; <br /><br />Achilles rose and pulled out a work desk, sweeping the contents into the hay. Trick pulled up Nina by the arm. She had no balance and let her chubby frame double over the desk&rsquo;s edge. As her face lay against the surface, her ears splayed out, Achilles dropped his pants. I saw it. Heavy and glistening. Achilles&rsquo; cock. It stood upright. I imagined it could lift someone. He took it in his hand. He lifted Nina&rsquo;s skirt and guided it to the spot beneath her bush of a tail. <br /><br />I should defend my territory. Tell Achilles he had gone too far. But what could I do? If I did nothing... I would get to see how far he could go... Was that what I wanted? <br /><br />He disappeared inside her, and she let out a primal groan, as if she had been punched. Her tail bristled, a star shuddering feverously. God didn&rsquo;t barge in, throwing thunderbolts, screaming that they were not married. <br /><br />My hand had gone between my legs too, without me noticing. It was harder than it had ever been. I pulled at it, timing the motion with Achilles&rsquo; thrusts and Nina&rsquo;s resounding moans. Trick went to the opposite site, pulling his cock out as well. He dangled it before her, pulling her head up by the hair. She struggled to focus. As if by instinct, she put her lips around it. Like Achilles&rsquo; tongue, she kept kissing it, drawing Trick inside her. She shook as the two tossed against her, their gluttonous grins not letting off. <br /><br />Achilles retracted from her and pointed, in a signal for them to change places. <br /><br />Nina looked up at him with wet eyes. &ldquo;You really...&rdquo; she slurred. &ldquo;Think I&rsquo;m pretty?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Dumb bunny whore,&rdquo; he answered, patting her cheek. <br /><br />Trick lifted her legs, turning her belly up. With her legs against his shoulders, he leaned in, baring glistening sharp teeth. Her yelp was drowned by Achilles guiding his cock into her mouth. She arced her back, and I had to gape as he managed to drive half of it into her throat. Her spit foamed, spilling onto the desk. <br /><br />My mind was blank. A velvet swirl was spreading from my stomach. <br /><br />I had no idea how long it had been when Achilles pulled out. I seemed to think it was the first time in minutes he had let her breathe. Trick stepped to Achilles&rsquo; side. With their cocks pointed at her face, they rubbed, just like me. She writhed, with her tongue hanging out. All were gasping. They pulled back, tensing their bodies, and out shot strings of white, crossing along her face. Her buck-teethed smile was smeared. <br /><br />The velvet swirl gripped me, setting my body alight. I felt a wet stain spread in my pants. I almost bit my tongue as my body twitched. <br /><br />Achilles and trick donned their clothes. Achilles took the knapsack and the bottles. They left, muttering to one another, as if it was the only natural thing to do. <br /><br />All was quiet, except the sounds Nina was making, rubbing herself between the legs. <br /><br />Instead of velvet, I felt suddenly empty. I felt God watching me, the roaring silence like his fury on the verge of skewering me. I looked at Nina, suddenly again feeling that it was wrong. She wasn&rsquo;t supposed to be here. I should have saved her. They had left, without as much as a farewell. God would forgive me if I helped her. I crawled down the ladder and approached her. She pushed herself up from the desk. Her eyes didn&rsquo;t seem to see me, though her smile widened. &ldquo;You,&rdquo; she said, swaying and trembling. &ldquo;You rascal.&rdquo; <br /><br />I didn&rsquo;t know what to say. <br /><br />She made no move to cover up. She drew her hand from between her legs and put a finger to her tongue. &ldquo;Want me to suck you off? I&rsquo;m good at it.&rdquo; <br /><br />What? I felt nauseous.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />She stood up. With lazy steps she neared me. &ldquo;You looking for mommy? I&rsquo;ll be your mommy.&rdquo; Her face dripped, as if melting. <br /><br />Scared and frail I turned and bolted out of the barn. <br /><br />&nbsp;<br /><br />9. <br /><br />The shame faded with a night&rsquo;s sleep. <br /><br />I had bread and honey for breakfast with mother and sister at my sides. Nina entered and leaned against the doorframe, half asleep. I stared. Though clean and glasses donned, I couldn&rsquo;t see her as before. I saw her on the work desk with her legs raised. <br /><br />&ldquo;Apologies,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I overslept.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;No matter,&rdquo; mother said. &ldquo;The laundry isn&rsquo;t going anywhere.&rdquo; <br /><br />She went by me and ruffled my hair. &ldquo;I hope you&rsquo;ve rehearsed your math, buddy. I&rsquo;ll be coming for you later.&rdquo; My fur stood on end as I shuddered.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />When we exchanged a gaze, she only hesitated for the blink of an eye. Then she smiled, same old buckteeth. She didn&rsquo;t remember. Maybe she thought it had been a dream. <br /><br />I was suddenly annoyed at myself. I should have let her do it. Suck me off. I make the white stuff too. Cum. I could have cum in her mouth. But her boyfriend... Fuck her boyfriend. She had already betrayed him. <br /><br />I could have been at the desk, the one to throw myself at her, my cock inside her. Then I would at least be even with Achilles. I doubled over the table, tense with the velvet sensation spreading in me. Mother and sister couldn&rsquo;t see me hard. They would laugh. <br /><br />Mother put her hand on my back. &ldquo;Honey. Are you alright? You look ill.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I&rsquo;m fine,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;Bad stomach.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Oh,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Let me know if we need to cook up some elderberry juice.&rdquo; <br /><br />I nodded. &ldquo;That&rsquo;d be nice.&rdquo; Anything that could distract me. <br /><br />&nbsp;<br /><br />10. <br /><br />It had been two days without word from father. Mother sat, fidgeting with her embroidery, pouring herself scotch. She growled at the servants. I had heard Nina giggling that Eloise suffered from a broken heart. <br /><br />As I passed by, mother grabbed my arm. &ldquo;Dalton,&rdquo; she said softly. &ldquo;Have you uh... Have you seen my book? The one with the green cover.&rdquo; <br /><br />The one she was usually smiling into. I thought a moment. &ldquo;No. Sorry. I could help look for it?&rdquo; <br /><br />She shook her head meekly. &ldquo;Where would it even be? Out by the gazebo? I looked there already.&rdquo; <br /><br />She could have dropped it off the side, in the bramble patch. I could get to it. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll go look.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Oh, don&rsquo;t...&rdquo; she said, but I had already darted off. <br /><br />I emerged into the courtyard, where Achilles was tying up sacks of corn in an open wagon. He was whistling as he tied exotic knots that I couldn&rsquo;t imagine served much purpose in holding sacks. I ran close by. <br /><br />Suddenly, I lost my balance as something snatched on my ankle. I barely raised my palms to soften the collision with the dirt. My knee dug down with a sharp pain numbing my leg. <br /><br />I looked up and saw the blocky tooth-grin of a laughing Achilles. I felt tears welling up. My eyes zipped over the scene, and I concluded that he had pulled a rope lying across the path, tripping me with it. <br /><br />&ldquo;You...&rdquo; My words failed me. &ldquo;You!&rdquo; <br /><br />Achilles grin faded. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m s&ndash;&rdquo;&nbsp;&nbsp; <br /><br />&ldquo;Hey! You big oaf.&rdquo; Achilles and I turned our heads to see my mother rushing towards us, a finger raised. &ldquo;You think you can do whatever you want, just because the man of the house is gone? Well, you have another thing coming.&rdquo; <br /><br />Achilles raised his hands, as if to shield himself. &ldquo;Easy, milady.&rdquo; He chuckled. &ldquo;It was just a joke. I was going to...&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Just a joke?&rdquo; Mother knelt by my side, putting her arms around me. Her tail folded about me, like a cotton cloud. &ldquo;Are you hurt?&rdquo; She put her nose against my ear. <br /><br />I was sure I had scraped my knee, but at her scent, I felt my mind wander. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s fine,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;Nothing happened.&rdquo; <br /><br />She squeezed me before rising. She placed herself before Achilles, crossing her arms. &ldquo;So? What were you going to say?&rdquo; <br /><br />Achilles rolled in the rope, folding it around his arm. &ldquo;Missus Callaghan. I was about to apologize.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Who raised you to think that you are perfectly allowed to maim senselessly, as long as you apologize immediately?&rdquo; <br /><br />Achilles scratched the back of his head. &ldquo;Oh, I was raised in an orphanage, actually.&rdquo; <br /><br />She seemed to hesitate at the prospect of berating him further. &ldquo;You know, I have noticed you slacking on the job as well. Seeing as your employer is on leave, someone needs to have a stern talking to you.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;That someone being you?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t like your tone. You&rsquo;re coming with me. Now.&rdquo; She pointed sternly for the main building.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />Achilles folded his arms behind her in mock and strutted along. As they disappeared inside, I pushed myself up from the ground. Taken by the thought of Achilles&rsquo; scolding, I ignored the pain in my knee. I followed to the far side of the house. The building was riddled with cracks in the boards and fallen out knots. I peered into father&rsquo;s study, where he would pray and sort papers. <br /><br />Mother had taken father&rsquo;s chair behind the desk, and across the table sat Achilles. He hadn&rsquo;t tossed the rope and sat with it over his shoulder. <br /><br />&ldquo;Why&rsquo;d you bring me here?&rdquo; he asked easily. <br /><br />&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t play dumb. You&rsquo;ve been acting inappropriately. Several of the girls have complained.&rdquo; She managed to look as imposing as father, even in her pale pink dress. <br /><br />He sighed. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s too bad. You not hearing of the ones who are perfectly satisfied with my performance.&rdquo; <br /><br />Mother folded her hands and leaned forward. &ldquo;And I don&rsquo;t want to hear it, thank you. Not everyone takes pride in a mind in the gutter.&rdquo; <br /><br />He leaned forward to meet her. &ldquo;Ah, but everyone does visit the gutter on occasion, don&rsquo;t they, Eloise?&rdquo; <br /><br />She flicked her whiskers. &ldquo;And what&rsquo;s that supposed to mean?&rdquo; <br /><br />He shrugged. &ldquo;I skimmed your book. It has some very saucy passages. I&rsquo;ve got to say, it left me a little... winded.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;You stole it?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Hey, I borrowed it. Your lovely drunk self seemed interested in discussing your literature. And I&rsquo;m ripe with thoughts. I especially liked the part where Luke Dastard&rsquo;s gang invades the mayor&rsquo;s home and ties up the wife Valensiya, who won&rsquo;t stop squealing before one of them pops his member into her mouth. Or when she strips at the gambling table to save the family fortune and they start playing cards over who gets to sleep with her. Does your husband share these fancies?&rdquo; <br /><br />I breathed in sharply, afraid I would be heard. Was that what my mother was reading? Was that what made her smile?&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />She breathed in deep and slow. &ldquo;Mister Hart.&rdquo; Her voice was hard but faded into a whisper. &ldquo;Are you blackmailing me?&rdquo; <br /><br />He sat back. &ldquo;Gosh, no. Unless, of course... You want me to blackmail you?&rdquo; <br /><br />She looked down, shaking her head. &ldquo;My poor Cole would burn the book if he found it. Please don&rsquo;t tell him about it.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;He&rsquo;s a bit virtuous, isn&rsquo;t he? I&rsquo;m sorry to hear that you need to suffer that. Not being able to... be yourself.&rdquo; <br /><br />She looked up. Her eyes narrowed. &ldquo;Ah... he&rsquo;s not here, so. It&rsquo;s not so bad.&rdquo; <br /><br />His smile shone. &ldquo;What you don&rsquo;t know can&rsquo;t hurt you.&rdquo; <br /><br />She rose from her seat. &ldquo;I wouldn&rsquo;t want to betray my vows. But if someone were blackmailing me... working rope to pin me down. Then I would have no choice, would I?&rdquo; She leaned her hip against the desk, sweeping her tail. I felt the air stir. <br /><br />He rose and stepped closer. &ldquo;Missus Callaghan. If you don&rsquo;t do as I say... Then I&rsquo;ll tell Cole everything, first thing.&rdquo; <br /><br />She grabbed him by the muzzle with a scathing glare. &ldquo;Mister Hart. If you fuck half as well as you seem to think... Maybe I won&rsquo;t fire you.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;On the desk. Hands on your back.&rdquo; <br /><br />She slid off the desk and leaned over it. Achilles pulled the rope from his shoulder. <br /><br />I bit down. You&rsquo;re not doing it, mother. You were supposed to scold him. Father... <br /><br />Achilles wound the rope around her wrists. With an efficiency he had never shown in the fields, he tied her forearms to each other. The rope fell into place, dividing the delicate strands of fur. <br /><br />Mother gasped. &quot;You know I&rsquo;m still mad at you about tripping my son, right?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Shut up about that brat.&rdquo; <br /><br />&quot;Why don&rsquo;t you make me shut up?&rdquo; <br /><br />He groaned, taking off his undershirt. He wrung it into a rope and pulled it over her mouth. The moment it had been tied around her head, he pushed her flat against the surface. <br /><br />He pulled down his pants and raised the skirts of her dress. At the swift rise of his cock, I retracted from my vantage point. It was happening, and I couldn&rsquo;t bear watching it. On the back of my eyelids, I saw Achilles&rsquo; grin, as he tripped me. It was unfair. <br /><br />I had wanted mother for so much longer. He&rsquo;d worked no magic, and she had still fallen into his lap. Behind me, mother gasped muffled noises through the cloth. Like Nina had. Taken aback and happy.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />I didn&rsquo;t want to look, but I had to. I would never get to do what Achilles was doing... So maybe. Maybe it was alright. I rose and peeked over the windowsill. <br /><br />Mother lay helpless, whimpering against the desk, as Achilles pushed into her. He was big even against her wide hips. It made me hard, despite my anger. Or because of it. <br /><br />&ldquo;God, Eloise,&rdquo; he hissed. &ldquo;I&rsquo;d never thought you&rsquo;d be so easy. A mother spreading her legs, the second her man leaves.&rdquo; Their bodies twitched. &ldquo;That makes you go, huh?&rdquo; <br /><br />I pulled away, afraid I&rsquo;d get seen if I pushed my luck. I found the crack again. Mother was bending, squealing against the cloth, as if she wanted to object. Quiet down. You&rsquo;ll get heard. <br /><br />&ldquo;Almost there,&rdquo; Achilles said. &ldquo;You&rsquo;ll be mine.&rdquo; <br /><br />Mother shook her head, and finally the cloth fell from her mouth. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t finish inside. I&rsquo;m serious!&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Tough luck,&rdquo; he said and pushed against her, legs trembling. <br /><br />Mother&rsquo;s groan was half annoyance, half raw enjoyment. At his final stretches against her, her body didn&rsquo;t object.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />He retracted. He started donning his pants. <br /><br />&ldquo;Untie me,&rdquo; mother said, suddenly with regret. He quickly did. <br /><br />Mother limbered up her arms before her, still leaned down. &ldquo;Go.&rdquo; <br /><br />He nodded. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll be sure to say you gave me a stern talking to.&rdquo; <br /><br />He went out the door. They didn&rsquo;t even lock it. I kept looking. Mother lay, breathing as if she was holding back tears. Between her legs, the cum... it was pouring, like from a water pump. My own cock was straining against my pants, and finally the warm sensation peaked. I hadn&rsquo;t even touched it, and the wetness spread. <br /><br />After I had finished shaking, laying against the ground, I pushed myself up. I staved off to the front of the house. <br /><br />I sat against the wall, staring into the air. The regret was back. God was angry with me for letting it happen. But he had let it happen too. God was a fool. <br /><br />I didn&rsquo;t know how long it had been when mother emerged from inside. She looked into the air as I, hesitating. She sighed. &ldquo;Did you find the book?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;No.&rdquo; Why did you let it happen? Why wasn&rsquo;t it me? <br /><br />&ldquo;It&rsquo;s alright. I think I know where it is.&rdquo; She brushed the front of her skirt and salvaged her smile. She nodded before turning to walk back inside, her tail sweeping with unconcerned grace. <br /><br />&nbsp;<br /><br />11. <br /><br />Another day passed, and there was still no word from father. There was talk of sending someone to town, looking for news at the city hall. <br /><br />Evening was taking the daylight, and mother, sister and I were gathered around the table, about to eat mother&rsquo;s potato pie. There was a knock on the door. <br /><br />&ldquo;Sweetheart, could you get that?&rdquo; mother said, looking to me. <br /><br />I leapt from the chair and rushed to the door. I opened it to find a wide-eyed blonde dog. &ldquo;Henry.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Ah, Dalton,&rdquo; Henry said. &ldquo;Good to see you. I was on my way back from the lake and caught the scent of your mother&rsquo;s cooking. I hope I&rsquo;m not intruding.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Henry!&rdquo; Mercedes called, dashing to the door. She embraced him, kissing his cheek. <br /><br />&ldquo;Welcome,&rdquo; mother said. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t hesitate. Come sit down. There&rsquo;s enough for everyone.&rdquo; <br /><br />Henry was pulled by Mercedes&rsquo; hand, bopping across the floor. They sat down, pulling chairs close together, as if prepared to ward off intruders from their safe corner of the table. <br /><br />Several pies stood steaming, and even as all helped themselves to sizeable portions, it seemed there would be plenty of leftovers. <br /><br />Henry made sure to swallow before speaking. &ldquo;Delicious, Missus Callaghan. Mercy, I hope you&rsquo;ll learn to cook like this. One day, it&rsquo;ll make the farm we&rsquo;ll have the most perfect plot of land in the country.&rdquo; <br /><br />Mercedes ate tiny bites and spoke easily. &ldquo;Oh, I don&rsquo;t know. I&rsquo;ll never learn to cook like mother. But it&rsquo;ll be perfect nonetheless. Because you&rsquo;ll be there.&rdquo; She poked his nose. <br /><br />&ldquo;And you with me.&rdquo; <br /><br />I felt nausea. My sister was marrying this dolt. And my mother was sleeping with a horse. I coughed on a piece of potato. <br /><br />&ldquo;You alright there?&rdquo; Henry asked. <br /><br />&ldquo;Yes, thank you.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Tell me, Dalton. Have you been practicing with that slingshot I gave you? I bet you can hit every bottle from fifty feet off.&rdquo; <br /><br />I hadn&rsquo;t practiced. I would have rather had a gun. &ldquo;Sure. I hit a squirrel the other day.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;You didn&rsquo;t!&rdquo; Mercedes said. &ldquo;Oh, the poor thing.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Ha,&rdquo; Henry said. &ldquo;You should listen to your sister. Be kind to critters and all of God&rsquo;s creatures.&rdquo; <br /><br />Or else what? &ldquo;Sure, you&rsquo;re right.&rdquo; <br /><br />Mother chuckled. &ldquo;Oh, let the boy have fun. You two sound like an old married couple already.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I&rsquo;m proud at that,&rdquo; Mercedes said, straightening her back and perking her ears. &ldquo;I need to be the best I can be.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Oh, I love you,&rdquo; Henry said, leaning near her neck. &ldquo;You&rsquo;ll be a wife like no other.&rdquo; He breathed in deep. <br /><br />Her eyelids fluttered as she sighed. &ldquo;Oh...&rdquo; Then she frowned. With a silent fury, she batted his cheek. He slid his hand off her thigh. &ldquo;Not here,&rdquo; she whispered. &ldquo;You promised.&rdquo; <br /><br />He gathered his hands in his lap, flustered. &ldquo;All this waiting,&rdquo; he whispered back. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s driving me crazy.&rdquo; <br /><br />Mother smiled wide and nodded softly. &ldquo;Please. Time will slip past soon enough. Lord knows I should have had your patience.&rdquo; <br /><br />A silence settled, as no one seemed to catch her meaning. <br /><br />The door opened. Eyes turned. Achilles entered, his overalls marked with streaks of dirt. &ldquo;Apologies,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m looking for needle and thread. I was tearing up roots and tore a hole in my glove.&rdquo; <br /><br />We looked to each other, unsure of who was to answer. <br /><br />&ldquo;Oh, Achilles,&rdquo; Mother said. &ldquo;You&rsquo;ve been working all day. Why don&rsquo;t you take a break? The roots can wait until tomorrow. We&rsquo;ve got too much food.&rdquo; <br /><br />Me and Mercedes looked uncertainly to each other. Father&rsquo;s rule was that if one servant ate with us, they would all want to. <br /><br />Achilles huffed. &ldquo;Oh, thank you. I&rsquo;m not sure... I wouldn&rsquo;t want to intrude.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Would he be intruding?&rdquo; Mother asked, turning to the rest of the gathering. <br /><br />Yes. He would. <br /><br />Henry lifted his palms. &ldquo;No foul on my end. The more the merrier.&rdquo; <br /><br />Achilles hesitated, standing solidly in the doorway. &ldquo;Fine,&rdquo; he said and entered. He pulled out a chair and sat down. He shifted back and forth, before finally seeming satisfied with his posture. Even with a straight back and hands on his thighs, the contrast between his clothes and ours was jarring. <br /><br />Mother retrieved a plate for him, and as soon as she had set it down, he started taking pie swiftly enough that the rest of us frowned. <br /><br />&ldquo;So,&rdquo; Henry said. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t believe we&rsquo;ve been properly introduced.&rdquo; He held his hand out tentatively. <br /><br />Achilles shook it with studied care. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m Achilles. All-purpose worker. Been here for three weeks.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Mercedes has mentioned you.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Nothing ill, I hope.&rdquo; <br /><br />Henry bopped his head. &ldquo;She&rsquo;s mentioned you. I&rsquo;m Henry.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;You&rsquo;re old Benjamin&rsquo;s son, from the farm over. And Mercedes&rsquo; dear sweetheart. Pleased to meet you.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;The one and only. Likewise.&rdquo; <br /><br />Mercedes seemed to retreat, letting her bangs of hair fall before her eyes. <br /><br />&ldquo;When is the wedding?&rdquo; Achilles asked. <br /><br />Mercedes cleared her throat. &ldquo;Not that it&rsquo;s much of your business. But it is this fall. And then I&rsquo;ll be all his.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Oh,&rdquo; Achilles said, without batting an eye. &ldquo;So, until then you&rsquo;re still a free girl.&rdquo; <br /><br />Mother made wide eyes, shifting them back and forth between Achilles and Mercedes. <br /><br />Henry bit his lip. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m not sure what you mean, Achilles.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I just hope,&rdquo; Achilles said, waving his fork. &ldquo;That she&rsquo;s had her chance to... see the world, before she gets saddled with you.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Saddled?&rdquo; Henry repeated. <br /><br />Mercedes touched her fingers to her lips, as if containing soft anger. &ldquo;Henry is all of my world. It&rsquo;s just so. Simple.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;You say that,&rdquo; Achilles said and stared off into the distance. &ldquo;See, I&rsquo;ve seen my fair share of the world. And it is big. Hefty. Us horses have a way with the size of things. We know where to delve, where to taste everything. And there are... hills to explore, high to low. Marriage might be best enjoyed after some travel. Take it from me. A sweet kitten deserves freedom proper, wouldn&rsquo;t you say?&rdquo;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />I saw Mercedes blink, skewing her head lightly, as if her thoughts had trailed off. She shook her whiskers and focused, then straightened herself, glancing as if to see if anyone saw her lapse in composure. <br /><br />Henry seemed to shift, showing teeth, unsure how one managed to be angry. <br /><br />&ldquo;Achilles,&rdquo; mother said, her voice breaking. &ldquo;Might it be that I should distract you, before your boyish charm runs away with you and nets you a quarrel. If you are done eating, I&rsquo;ll show you where we keep needle and thread. And though I&rsquo;m sure you know how to mend a glove, I can make sure you do it properly.&rdquo; <br /><br />Achilles swallowed several bites. &ldquo;Aye. That would be mighty kind of you.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Children,&rdquo; mother said, rising. &ldquo;If you would be so kind and clear the table, I&rsquo;ll show Achilles out.&rdquo; <br /><br />She pulled him up, and the two of them went out the door leading to the hallway. <br /><br />&ldquo;Did he, uh,&rdquo; Henry said. &ldquo;Did he even bring the glove?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I&rsquo;m sure,&rdquo; Mercedes said. <br /><br />I held my breath, as we heard the creaking sound of them not heading for the workshop, but up the stairs to the first floor. Decidedly quiet, as if not meaning to attract attention. They couldn&rsquo;t possibly... Surely, mother had long ago learned that the loud arguments she&rsquo;d had with father in their bedroom carried through the entire building. <br /><br />&ldquo;On our farm,&rdquo; Henry said. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve been dreaming that...&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Shut up,&rdquo; Mercedes hissed through her teeth. <br /><br />There were thumps of mother and Achilles entering the master bedroom. Soft giggling. Surprised sighs. <br /><br />&ldquo;You leave my daughter be,&rdquo; mother said, her voice muffled. She was not exactly angry. &ldquo;What will it take to make you behave?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Might be that this misbehaving is the distraction I need.&rdquo; <br /><br />Henry and Mercedes made wide eyes. I shifted my gaze, judging if I needed to act surprised. By my count, it was the third time they did it. They might have snuck one past me. I was already tired of feeling angry. <br /><br />&ldquo;Mother,&rdquo; Mercedes whispered. <br /><br />&ldquo;Mister Hart,&rdquo; mother gasped. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t overstep.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;If you don&rsquo;t want me to overstep. Then stop me.&rdquo; <br /><br />There was sound of furniture shifting over the floor. Clacking hooves taking their footing. Mother&rsquo;s rolling purr, soon shifting to a long-winded gasp. <br /><br />All of us sat frozen at the table, as the rhythmic thumping started. The furniture&rsquo;s creaking kept time with my heartbeat. <br /><br />&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; mother growled, her low voice clear in the rest of the house&rsquo;s deafening silence. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m better than her anyway.&rdquo; <br /><br />If Achilles answered, I didn&rsquo;t hear, as Mercedes put her palms over my ears, pushing with sudden desperation. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s enough of that,&rdquo; I heard her say, as she pulled me up from the chair. <br /><br />&ldquo;Hey,&rdquo; I called, as she dragged me over the floor, to the front door. <br /><br />Once outside, she released my ears, but kept a hold of my hand. We walked aimlessly, until she stopped, looking around to see that nobody was nearby. <br /><br />She grabbed my shoulders and looked me in the eyes. &ldquo;What uh... What you just heard. Mother and the farmhand. They were uh... They were just playfighting. And you shouldn&rsquo;t... you shouldn&rsquo;t mention it to others. Especially not to father. He would get mad that mother invited him to the table. Understand?&rdquo; <br /><br />I stood blinking, marveling at her resolve. &ldquo;I know what fucking is, Mercedes. Please.&rdquo;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />She slapped me. &ldquo;You watch your mouth.&rdquo; <br /><br />I rubbed my cheek, feeling no real pain. &ldquo;Why? All the others are saying it.&rdquo; And doing it. <br /><br />&ldquo;Because...&rdquo; she said, folding her hands in front of her. &ldquo;Because you&rsquo;re not old enough. And... What mother is doing is bad. You understand that?&rdquo; <br /><br />And so what? &ldquo;Yes. I understand.&rdquo;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />&ldquo;Good.&rdquo; She leaned in and kissed my forehead. &ldquo;Now... I guess we have to go clear the table.&rdquo; <br /><br />I nodded. We walked back. I imagined Henry sitting alone with the noise above him. &ldquo;Do you think Henry will mention it to father?&rdquo; <br /><br />She frowned. &ldquo;I will talk to him. I can be... convincing.&rdquo; <br /><br />I understood that father finding out would mean... that mother couldn&rsquo;t live with us anymore. So, I hoped she was right. <br /><br />&nbsp;<br /><br />12.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />The dining room was silent when we returned. With idle talk we cleaned the dishes. Mother and Achilles were nowhere to be seen. Henry didn&rsquo;t mention the noises they had heard, though his expression was stiff and there was further between nauseatingly sweet words. <br /><br />&ldquo;I was thinking,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;That I might stay the night.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Always!&rdquo; Mercedes said. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll go prepare the guestroom.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Even now?&rdquo; He pouted. &ldquo;When your father isn&rsquo;t here.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;My room,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Is not for boys to sleep in.&rdquo; She raised her nose to indicate that the statement required no justification.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />&ldquo;Fine.&rdquo; <br /><br />As Mercedes left, Henry and I sat at the clean table, looking expectantly at one another. <br /><br />&ldquo;What about you?&rdquo; he asked. &ldquo;Do you want to get married? Or do you want to see the world first?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I...&rdquo; I wondered what he wanted to hear. &ldquo;It depends who I&rsquo;m marrying, I guess.&rdquo; I wasn&rsquo;t sure why you couldn&rsquo;t see the world if you were married. <br /><br />&ldquo;Sometimes...&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I wonder if Mercedes thinks I&rsquo;m too boring. Am I boring, Dalton?&rdquo; <br /><br />That didn&rsquo;t sound like him. &ldquo;Of course not. She really likes you.&rdquo; I wasn&rsquo;t sure I did.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />&ldquo;I know, but... What if things change?&rdquo; <br /><br />I couldn&rsquo;t form an answer before Mercedes reentered. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s ready!&rdquo; <br /><br />It was a while before bedtime. As the last daylight disappeared, I stayed, fearing the two would send me away in favor of privacy. But Mercedes seemed content keeping me within reach for now.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />In a bid to teach me to concentrate, Henry handily beat me in a game of chess. I was distracted by the thought of the pieces shifting into the shape of curvy women, and instead of capturing each other, the pieces fucked. As Henry&rsquo;s knight moved in to capture my queen, all I could see was Achilles sweating against my mother, and her loving it. It shouldn&rsquo;t have been so easy. <br /><br />Finally, I was sent off to bed. I retreated to my room, where I stubbornly shuffled the chess pieces back and forth on the board, before crawling under the sheets. <br /><br />As I heard Mercedes enter her own room, I thought of what she had said. It was not true that boys were not allowed in her room. I had slept in her room, when I was younger. I felt the stubbornness rear up. I wanted to be close to a girl. And I could, if I wanted to. I slid out of bed and went into the hallway. I approached her door. I lifted my hand and hovered until I got angry at myself, before knocking. <br /><br />For a moment I thought I was being ignored, before I heard her footsteps. She opened. She stood in her nightgown, and I was sure I could see through it. &ldquo;Dalton? What is it?&rdquo; She blinked in confusion. <br /><br />&ldquo;I can&rsquo;t sleep. Can I sleep in your room?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Oh. Is it the thing with mother worrying you?&rdquo; She sighed. &ldquo;Aren&rsquo;t you a little old not to be sleeping on your own?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Oh, now I&rsquo;m too old?&rdquo; <br /><br />She closed her eyes. &ldquo;Alright then. Don&rsquo;t tell anybody. Come in.&rdquo; <br /><br />She closed the door behind me. She climbed into bed and lifted the covers, nodding me ahead. I delved in and put my back against her. She put a hand on my side, hesitating before resigning to embracing me in full. She was warm against me. Those were her breasts in my back. <br /><br />I let my thoughts wonder, and I saw Henry before me, jealous that I was the one sleeping beside Mercedes. Behind me, I felt her falling asleep, her breath slowing. She retreated from the embrace and turned her back to me. Before disappointment could set in, I turned towards her. Her tail slipped between my legs. I held her, to see if she reacted to my touch.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />When she didn&rsquo;t, I pushed my crotch against her rear. I immediately felt myself getting hard and retracted before risking her complaining. When she didn&rsquo;t show sign of noticing, I brought my hand down and touched my cock. I wouldn&rsquo;t be able to sleep if I didn&rsquo;t first let the velvet wash through me. <br /><br />I thought of mother and Achilles. I thought of what it would look like, if I had been the one she had dragged to her bedroom. I could have been panting between her breasts, spreading her ass, putting my cock into her. Pulling her tail, releasing my cum in her as she purred. <br /><br />Why was I thinking of her? Mercedes was right in front of me. Lifting the covers, I could see the outline of her hip in the dim light. She was so white. I pulled on my cock and gritted my teeth when I made the bed shift. But I couldn&rsquo;t stop myself. <br /><br />I took myself to a place where Mercedes in her sleep-addled mind lifted her dress. She sat down on my cock, letting me enter her, not conscious enough to realize that she was giving up her most precious gift, saved for Henry. We rubbed against each other in the darkness, fully resigned to forgetting everything by the morning. <br /><br />My mind reeled. Soon I was Achilles, lifting Mercedes with my cock. He could make it happen. And it would be glorious and terrible. My thoughts escaped the fantasy as I shook. My cock shot its cum, and in the velvet rush, I loved the sight. It fell in curtains on her dress and tail, glistening in the shadows. <br /><br />My breathing had gone frantic, and as it steadied, I once more feared she was awake, prepared to lash out. But she was still, simply breathing. <br /><br />She would notice. She would wake up, her tail sticky, and she would know what happened. Or maybe she wouldn&rsquo;t... I decided to hold on to that thought.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />I turned my back and tried to sleep. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />13. <br /><br />The next morning, we all gathered around the table once more. We talked of the wonderful weather, as we ate honeyed oatmeal. Each of us seemed content to let yesterday remain in the past. <br /><br />&ldquo;We were planning to take a walk down by the river,&rdquo; Mercedes said as the table was clean once more. She was donning her silk gloves. <br /><br />&ldquo;Can I come?&rdquo; I asked. <br /><br />&ldquo;We were hoping for some privacy,&rdquo; Henry said. &ldquo;We can play some ball later, if you want.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Besides,&rdquo; mother said. &ldquo;You have chores to do. Father is going to throw a fit, if he comes home to find that all you&rsquo;ve been doing is playing games.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Fine.&rdquo; That was what he&rsquo;d be mad about, sure. <br /><br />The sun was fierce, so Mercedes picked up her parasol and opened it over her and Henry. With arms intertwined, they walked down the hill. I watched hungrily. I wanted to be the one she was kissing and sighing at. <br /><br />&ldquo;I&rsquo;m going to go read,&rdquo; I said, darting towards the hallway. <br /><br />&ldquo;Remember your chores!&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Sure,&rdquo; I called back, certain I would make it to about half of them. I made a pretense of opening and closing the door to my room and then continued out the backdoor. I was prepared to run the long way down to the river and make it before Mercedes and Henry. But I spotted Achilles down by the barn and stopped. He was talking to Nina, who stood under the barn&rsquo;s cover. I saw money changing hands. For a moment I considered which pair I would rather spy on. Achilles had proven better at making things happen than Henry. But when Nina and Achilles left the scene in opposite directions, I hurried on. <br /><br />I went through the bushes covering the hills and into the cover of trees. I approached the sound of running water and slowed when I heard voices. I neared the ridge where I had looked at bathing girls before and crouched down before crawling on. <br /><br />I saw the parasol perched in the grass. Beneath it, Henry and Mercedes lay shoulder to shoulder, watching the water&rsquo;s patterns over the glass-like rocks. Mercedes&rsquo; gloved fingertips traced the collar of Henry&rsquo;s shirt. <br /><br />&ldquo;It feels unfair,&rdquo; Henry said. &ldquo;To your father. I would have wanted to know.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;What about Dalton?&rdquo; Mercedes said, and I cowered at my name. &ldquo;Is it fair to him? To take his mother away?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;He&rsquo;s getting too old to hang on his mother&rsquo;s skirts so often.&rdquo; He sighed. &ldquo;But you&rsquo;re right of course. A lapse in judgment... Shouldn&rsquo;t ruin your home.&rdquo; He huffed. &ldquo;But God. The noise of it... It&rsquo;s stuck in my head.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;You boys,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Once sex enters your mind. It just doesn&rsquo;t leave.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I&rsquo;m sorry, alright?&rdquo; He crossed his arms. &ldquo;You have no idea how hard this waiting business is.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;It&rsquo;s hard for me too...&rdquo; She ran her finger over his pants. &ldquo;Though not as hard as this. Holy... Do you not take care of yourself?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I did... But the thought of you, Mercedes. It keeps... drilling in.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;We&rsquo;ll take care of it.&rdquo; She undid his belt. <br /><br />His breath rose as his cock grew between her fingers. &ldquo;Could we not... Do more? There are things the Lord wouldn&rsquo;t frown at.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;No,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I say we wait. It&rsquo;s final.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;At least use your mouth?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;No.&rdquo; I couldn&rsquo;t see derision in her face. Only pride. <br /><br />I was disappointed too. I had thought I&rsquo;d see more than Henry&rsquo;s cock and Mercedes&rsquo; hand around it. But I wasn&rsquo;t going to leave. I brought out my own cock and tried to imagine that I was the one Mercedes was touching. <br /><br />She pinched his cock between three fingers, brushing him with meticulous care. At first, I thought she did her best to touch him as little as possible. But her other hand cupping his balls told another story. She had done this many times before and knew just where to put pressure. <br /><br />Henry finished quickly. When his breathing turned to gasping, she held her hand up to shield him. The cum sprayed against her palm, and only little landed on his shirt. She held up her hand and fanned out her fingers, as if studying a bug. Between them a web of white hung, sliding in drops along her glove.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />I felt as if I could read Henry&rsquo;s thoughts in his sad eyes. Lick it. <br /><br />She didn&rsquo;t. She wiped her glove in the dry grass. She smiled. &ldquo;Feel better?&rdquo; <br /><br />He nodded. They kissed, then rose from the grass. Beneath the parasol&rsquo;s shade, they headed back towards the house. <br /><br />I stayed behind, still rubbing my cock. To the thought of my sister sucking her dripping fingers, I finished. With shaking legs, I got up. I stepped away and looked back at the cum I had spilled in the grass. It looked a lot better on Mercedes. <br /><br />I took the long way around. If someone saw me return, it would seem I had gone another direction entirely. I went by the fields, where the workers were sweating in the merciless sun. No one paid mind to me as I approached the house. <br /><br />I turned the corner, and my heart was sent into my throat as Henry stood before me. <br /><br />&ldquo;There you are!&rdquo; He juggled the old leather ball between his hands. &ldquo;Did you want to play? I&rsquo;m heading out shortly. I&rsquo;m sure the chores can wait.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I, uh...&rdquo; With my frantic blinking, he had to know that I had seen something I wasn&rsquo;t supposed to. But he simply smiled. &ldquo;Sure. We can play.&rdquo; <br /><br />We went to the grassy end of the courtyard. We brought out four stumps of wood and placed them at each end as goal posts. As we started warming up by kicking the ball back and forth between us, Mercedes emerged from the house. <br /><br />She greeted us with a dainty wave and sat down on the bench to the side. She pulled a nail file and began treating her claws. She seemed a beacon on light, shining over the playing field. <br /><br />We started playing properly, trying our best to get the ball past the other, into the goal. We were evenly matched, though I had the feeling that he was going easy on me. Mercedes cheered when someone scored. <br /><br />When I was just about to score a winning goal, he leapt in with a reckless spinning kick. The ball flew, far off its mark. It tumbled downhill, rolling towards the barn. <br /><br />&ldquo;Whoops!&rdquo; he called. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s my bad. I&rsquo;ll get it.&rdquo; <br /><br />He ran for it, while I stood awkwardly in place. <br /><br />He picked it up and turned. He was stopped when Nina suddenly stood in front of him. She spun primly, her ears whirling about her. She embraced him, deftly navigating his hand to her breast in the same motion. Squeezing him, she kissed him soundly on the mouth. He dropped the ball. <br /><br />&ldquo;Last night was amazing, Henry,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t know you had it in you. This bunny hasn&rsquo;t ever felt that much like a woman.&rdquo; <br /><br />Mercedes was already storming towards them. She seemed blind to Henry pushing off Nina, hissing his deep-felt confusion. <br /><br />Mercedes slapped him with a force I would have expected from a grown man. He nearly fell.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />&ldquo;Goodness,&rdquo; Nina said and turned her back. She skittered off with lifted skirts. <br /><br />Mercedes grabbed Henry&rsquo;s ear, pulling him down. &ldquo;Oh, that&rsquo;s how you&rsquo;re taking care of yourself, is it? I knew it.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Listen, I...&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;No, you listen! I thought you were different. I... I can&rsquo;t look at you!&rdquo; <br /><br />She shook her head, turning away. Tears were staining her fur. She ran to the house. Henry followed her but was stopped by the door slammed before him. <br /><br />He slouched on the spot and looked over his shoulder. Our eyes met. When he looked as if asking for help, I pulled up my shoulders in a shrug.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />&nbsp;<br /><br />14. <br /><br />Mother and I sat in the dining room, drinking tea, as we listened to Henry convincing Mercedes that it had been a misunderstanding. But she screamed that he had held her. He had kissed her, as if he was used to it. That she had never expected that a boy could wait.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />He begged her. It made no sense. Surely, she didn&rsquo;t think he was that stupid? It had to be a prank. After half an hour, he succeeded. She came out from her room. They embraced. They kissed. <br /><br />Yet she still told him that it was best if he left, coming back another day. He agreed. <br /><br />Mercedes remained in her room as I went about my day, hoping I could be done with the busywork fast. Carrying water from the pump to the kitchen, I saw Achilles by Mercedes&rsquo; window. <br /><br />This I had got to see. What was the plan? He&rsquo;d obviously masterminded the fight earlier. The anger at his audacity was waning. I could see myself as him. Anything he could do... It would be the closest I&#039;d get to Mercedes. <br /><br />I went the far way around the building, sitting down by the nearest corner. It seemed that Achilles was reinforcing the lower wooden boards of the building&rsquo;s foundation. The removing of old wood yielded jarring creaks, and the hammering of nails went straight to the skull. <br /><br />I heard a window opening. The hammering stopped. &ldquo;Do you have to do that now?&rdquo; Mercedes asked, more tired than angry. <br /><br />&ldquo;I have to do it some time, miss,&rdquo; Achilles answered matter-of-factly. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s my job.&rdquo; <br /><br />She sighed sharply. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m a little on edge. It would help me with some peace and quiet.&rdquo; <br /><br />He made a faint chuckle. &ldquo;You do look a bit beside yourself. Did something happen?&rdquo; <br /><br />She was quiet for a long moment. &ldquo;I worry for father, is all. We should have heard from him by now.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Sorry to hear it. As promised, we&rsquo;re going hunting for news in town first thing tomorrow.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;You&rsquo;re going?&rdquo; <br /><br />He laughed. &ldquo;Why are you saying it like you&rsquo;re expecting me to leave him dead in a ditch?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I&rsquo;m sorry, you just... have so many other things to think about.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I&rsquo;m not so selfish as you&rsquo;re imagining. Want me to bring you something back from the market?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Um.&rdquo; Her voice softened. &ldquo;Sugar taffy. That would be nice.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Is that all? Don&rsquo;t be afraid to boss me around. You&rsquo;re royal blood to me.&rdquo; <br /><br />She huffed. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m not going to ask you to run around picking up dresses and jewelry for me.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I suppose...&rdquo; he said with a jovial laugh. &ldquo;I will just have to guess what you&rsquo;ll like then.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I&rsquo;d rather you... not.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;What, are you too good for presents now?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Presents, Achilles... always come with strings attached.&rdquo; I could imagine her piercing stare. <br /><br />&ldquo;See how little you understand me.&rdquo; He spoke with a meandering tone. &ldquo;With you blue-bloods... There&rsquo;s always strings attached. Every conversation is about what someone has said or done. What does he want? What does she think of me? How important am I? With rabble like me... There are no strings. You should try it some time.&rdquo; <br /><br />She hesitated, before whispering. &ldquo;What you said... About seeing the world. You think it is silly... That Henry and I are waiting until marriage.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t put words in my mouth. I think it&rsquo;s sad rather. I think I&rsquo;d have a thing or two to teach you. But that&rsquo;s my side of the fence.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Because you&rsquo;re so wise, is it?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Seriously,&rdquo; he said, suddenly solemn. &ldquo;Lots of waiting, lots of dreaming. Not enough warming up. I had a friend at the orphanage. She kept talking about going to sail the ocean when we grew up. She refused to step into any row boat. No, it had to be a real ship with mast and sail, all that. Then we finally went. Biggest ship you&rsquo;ve ever seen. She threw up, day in, day out. Now she hates the ocean.&rdquo; <br /><br />She was silent again. &ldquo;Maybe she didn&rsquo;t find the right ship.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Maybe the ocean isn&rsquo;t that great to begin with. Dream too much, you&rsquo;re going to tell yourself a story that&rsquo;ll never happen.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;You shouldn&rsquo;t be in the business of taking people&rsquo;s dreams from them.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Oh, Mercedes. Feel at your heart and tell me I&rsquo;m taking dreams away.&rdquo; He tapped the wood with an air of finality. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll do the refurbishing later.&rdquo; There were sounds of him gathering up tools. <br /><br />&ldquo;See you.&rdquo; Her voice faltered. <br /><br />I leaned out to peek. He left, walking towards the living quarters. She hung out the window, resting on her elbows, staring. <br /><br />&nbsp;<br /><br />15. <br /><br />In the evening, I snuck into Achilles&rsquo; room. I hid in the closet, among his hanging clothes. Why? A gut feeling, for one. I was convinced I was cursed, blessed, or haunted. Wherever I went, I managed to catch glimpses of sex. Either I had unearthly luck, or I was causing it to happen. I was curious to find out. <br /><br />As I sat in the sliver of light, guilt was setting in. I didn&rsquo;t tell Henry or Mercedes that I had seen Achilles pay off Nina. And now I was waiting for Achilles&rsquo; plan to carry out, as if I were impressed by it. Surely, God wasn&rsquo;t impressed. <br /><br />But then, if he was watching... Why was he showing me all this? <br /><br />I had been sitting still for what felt like an eternity, when Achilles returned from his workday. I was determined to stay until morning if necessary. Either way, it was too late to change my mind. <br /><br />I leaned against the slit of light, watching him go about what looked like a rehearsed routine. He brought in a pail of water. He lit the small stove and set some to boil in a tall kettle. He took off all his clothes. I averted my eyes at first, but then reconsidered. I bit down and studied him. I understood why girls seemed captivated by horses. Nina... Then mother. It wasn&rsquo;t only that charm. <br /><br />His cock dangled as he moved lazily around. He wrung rags of cloth in the hot water and poured the rest back into the pail. He sat on the bed, dipping his hooves and washing his face. He stretched for a box, contorting not to pull his hooves from the water. In it was tobacco and rolling paper. He rolled a cigarette. After lighting it, he pulled a tiny book from the box. He smoked and read. The air closed in around me in the closet, and I fought not to cough. <br /><br />He spoke to himself. A foreign language. Spanish? Was he practicing with a dictionary? <br /><br />Finally, there was a knock on the door. He made a long exasperated sigh, before rising. He dragged water along the floor to the door and cracked it open. &ldquo;Hello there.&rdquo; <br /><br />Mercedes&rsquo; voice rang. &ldquo;Oh you&rsquo;re... I&rsquo;m sorry to interrupt. I was just wondering if you&rsquo;ve seen Dalton around? We haven&rsquo;t seen him since dinner, and he&rsquo;s skipped out on some chores. We&rsquo;re worried, is all.&rdquo; <br /><br />He opened the door by another inch and leaned closer. &ldquo;Are you really...? Wondering if I&rsquo;ve seen your brother? He&rsquo;s probably just skulking around in the brook, looking at bathing girls. I don&rsquo;t see why he would be here.&rdquo; <br /><br />I could barely see her tucking her chin in in embarrassment. &ldquo;I uh... There was also. At the market tomorrow. Could you get me um. Could you get me um.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Come inside, instead of pussyfooting.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;But you&rsquo;re... You don&rsquo;t have...&rdquo; <br /><br />He opened the door in full and walked back to his pail. &ldquo;Come in or don&rsquo;t.&rdquo; He sat down, dipping his hooves. <br /><br />She looked about her, as if wanting to make sure she wasn&rsquo;t seen. She entered and carefully closed the door behind her. She leaned against it, her eyes closed as she breathed in. <br /><br />She stepped out before him, facing him, but pointedly looked everywhere else. &ldquo;I was... I was thinking.&rdquo; <br /><br />He made no effort to cover up. &ldquo;Out with it.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;So,&rdquo; she said, bringing her palms together, as if praying. &ldquo;Ever since I was little... I&rsquo;ve dreamt of getting married. I want it to be perfect. When I met Henry, it was a sure thing. He wanted the same thing. We&rsquo;ve talked about it... a lot. Henry especially... He&rsquo;s talked about what he expects of the wedding night. And I... I&rsquo;m afraid that I&rsquo;ll disappoint him.&rdquo; She pointed at him. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re a horse.&rdquo; <br /><br />He bared a wide grin. &ldquo;That I am.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Sorry... The other girls. They always talk about horses... I always turn up my nose. Tell them that they are being raunchy. Foul-mouthed. But the thought... it is like a mosquito humming in your ear, as you try to sleep. So, I thought...&rdquo; She shivered. &ldquo;What&rsquo;s the harm in a little practice?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;No harm,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;No strings. I can keep a secret.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; she said, suddenly smiling. &ldquo;No one would believe you anyway.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I scarcely would either. Go ahead. I&rsquo;m here for whatever you need.&rdquo; <br /><br />She hesitated a moment, before going to the door to lock it. She went back to him and finally looked between his legs. She took a breath of resolve. She grabbed her skirts and went to her knees before the pail. <br /><br />Are you really going to do it? I hated the thought. Her surrendering. But I also loved it... It was almost as if she was kneeling before me. <br /><br />&ldquo;Whatever happens...&rdquo; she said, putting her fingertips to his knees. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m leaving here... pure.&rdquo; <br /><br />He raised his eyebrows. &ldquo;Suit yourself.&rdquo; <br /><br />She reached out, retracted, but then put her palm around his cock. It grew in her hand. &ldquo;My... It&rsquo;s so. Big.&rdquo; At her three-finger grip, it suddenly became too heavy and slid down. She put both palms to it and lifted it towards her face. She kissed it. &ldquo;The smell...&rdquo; she said, as if undecided on it. <br /><br />&ldquo;It&rsquo;s a lot,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re supposed to feel... like you shouldn&rsquo;t do it.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Like eating too much sugar.&rdquo; She leaned in again. She put her lips to the tip and took it into her mouth. She pulled with a determined grip, and his skin shifted, creasing against her. She rolled her tongue around it, as if pretending it was a heartfelt kiss. She hummed, almost as if she was eating her sugar toffees. With a smack of her lips and drool falling, she pulled away.&nbsp;&nbsp; <br /><br />&ldquo;I like this,&rdquo; she said, stroking its underside with her fingertips. She looked up. &ldquo;Isn&rsquo;t it tiresome? People looking at a horse... and seeing something to fuck...&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;You&rsquo;d think,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;But it gets girls like you on my cock. How could I mind?&rdquo; <br /><br />She leaned closer, hugging it between her palm and cheek. &ldquo;How am I doing?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t think about it. I promise, Henry will love it.&rdquo; <br /><br />She put her hand to his balls and ran her tongue from base to tip. She took on a sly look and wound her fingers around the sack, squeezing. <br /><br />&ldquo;If you do that,&rdquo; he said, gritting his teeth. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll finish.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;So?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;So, I&rsquo;ll make a mess on your pretty face.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;That&rsquo;s alright,&rdquo; she said, pulling down on his balls as her strokes went rapid. She pressed her tongue against his tip. &ldquo;Ahn.&rdquo; <br /><br />He groaned, his voice breaking. He took her moving hand. &ldquo;There, pull down, holding tight in place.&rdquo; <br /><br />She did, and his cock twitched. It strained against her hand and the cum burst out, unrelenting. She held her panting mouth open in surprise, and in the repeated downpour, none of her face seemed to avoid the splash. Her curls of hair. Her eyelashes. <br /><br />The stream died down and she sat, unable to control her breathing. Her eyes were anxious as her fingers stretched for her face, unsure if they could help her from what she had landed herself in. <br /><br />&ldquo;God,&rdquo; she whimpered. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s... Ah!&rdquo; She shuddered, waves radiating through her fur. Finally, she steadied. She reached out for the rag he was holding out. She wiped herself with small, deliberate motions, as if she had eaten a meal with the same composure. Not close to clean, she set the cloth aside. She poked his cock, smaller now. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t tell me that was it.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Treat a man like that. He&rsquo;s going to need a moment.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Careful. A moment too long, I&rsquo;ll change my mind.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I guess we&rsquo;ll give you a turn.&rdquo; He rose, spilling water from the pail. He pointed to the bed. &ldquo;However you&rsquo;re most comfortable.&rdquo; <br /><br />She crawled onto the bed. Seeming unsure what he had meant, she placed her breasts against the sheets, arching her back. &ldquo;What... what are you going to do?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Reciprocate. I&rsquo;ll be careful about your... sensibilities, don&rsquo;t you fret.&rdquo; He pulled her skirts up, and she helped by lifting a leg at a time. &ldquo;Stop me, if I go too far.&rdquo; He pulled down her underwear and spread her ass. He pushed his snout in and licked.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />My eyes were fixed on the valley, as he caressed it with his tongue... I hadn&rsquo;t gotten so clean a look before. It was where men couldn&rsquo;t go before marriage. God would be dissatisfied, but he had let it go on this far, so I didn&rsquo;t imagine it would stop now. <br /><br />&ldquo;Remember,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Little Henry can&rsquo;t do this.&rdquo; <br /><br />Her lifted tail flicked and wrapped around his head. She stifled a hiss. If she was too loud, she would repeat mother&rsquo;s blunder. Someone might hear. I squeezed my cock. Squeal. Give in.&nbsp;&nbsp; <br /><br />He raised his hand and let his thumb help stretch her, his tongue reaching deep. The thumb slid up to the hole beneath her tail. She made no complaint. His tongue slipped and ran to the base of her tail. He paused, listening. <br /><br />&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t... stop,&rdquo; she said and brought her hand down between her legs. She touched the valley. &ldquo;This... is for Henry.&rdquo; Her fingers moved to the hole above. &ldquo;You can go here.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Right.&rdquo; He let his tongue drip, and his thumb delved inside. <br /><br />She hissed, pulling away. After a moment, she pushed back again. &ldquo;Gentle.&rdquo; <br /><br />His hand reached for his cock, rising again. &ldquo;It&rsquo;ll hurt.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I&rsquo;m a big girl.&rdquo; <br /><br />He sent his tongue in where his thumb had gone, and I felt faint revulsion, soon drowned out by the velvet looming in my limbs. His fingers grazed her below, expertly searching for where to push. <br /><br />She trembled with a primal groan and sunk down panting. &ldquo;Fuh. Was that... an orgasm?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;My, girl,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re the easiest mark I&rsquo;ve had. You&rsquo;ve been starving. Come the wedding, Henry needs to hold on for life.&rdquo; <br /><br />She spoke into the sheets. &ldquo;How... how many girls... like me. Have you been with?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Virgins? Ten. Of them, you&rsquo;re the prettiest.&rdquo; She trembled again. &ldquo;And oh so receptive. Turn around. Trust me.&rdquo; She put her back against the bed. &ldquo;Knees as close to your shoulders as possible.&rdquo; She raised her legs and held them down with her hands. He lifted his cock and rested it against the hole she&rsquo;d allowed. &ldquo;Hold your breath.&rdquo; <br /><br />She breathed in swiftly. He put in his weight. She opened around him, and her eyes widened. She grabbed a pillow and clutched it before her face, biting the fabric. <br /><br />Gentle as asked, he moved against her. Her rear clenched around him, and her tail swung between his legs, curling around his. <br /><br />&ldquo;There,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s inside you. Do you feel lucky?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I... I...&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Are you imagining I&rsquo;m Henry?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Yes.&rdquo; <br /><br />He held his hand to her face and pushed her cheeks together. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t. That won&rsquo;t make you good again. Admit it.&rdquo; <br /><br />She turned the whites of her wet eyes. &ldquo;God. I&rsquo;m a tramp.&rdquo; She squeezed the pillow with all her force. <br /><br />&ldquo;Father would be disappointed. His little girl goes dumb over a horse cock. Say it again. It makes me harder. You&rsquo;re a tramp.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I&rsquo;m a tramp.&rdquo; Her legs folded around him and pulled him in closer. What resistance held back his cock was fading. He moved, losing his composed reflexes, turning wild. Half of him was inside. <br /><br />&ldquo;This isn&rsquo;t enough for you, is it?&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;No one will find out. Say the word.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;No,&rdquo; she said, though her slithering body seemed to disagree. &ldquo;I can&rsquo;t.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Stubborn tramp, you are. You&rsquo;ll already regret this...&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Maybe... maybe just a little.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;No such thing. Say you want it.&rdquo; He pulled his length out of her, needing to take a step back. <br /><br />&ldquo;I...&rdquo; She mumbled into the pillow. <br /><br />He ripped it from her hands and tossed it aside. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t hide.&rdquo; He brushed her hair from her face. &ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t quite catch that.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I want it.&rdquo; <br /><br />He lifted his cock and poised it against the place she&rsquo;d forbidden, slipping inside with no resistance.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />There was a sinking feeling in my stomach. Yes. You&rsquo;re his now.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />Though her legs held him locked in place, she hid her face behind her hands. <br /><br />He grabbed her wrists and pulled them aside. &ldquo;Look at me. This is all you&rsquo;ll ever need. Come the wedding night, you&rsquo;ll think of me.&rdquo; <br /><br />Her mouth hung open, unable to form words. <br /><br />&ldquo;You&rsquo;re ruined. You and your unfaithful little snatch don&rsquo;t even care anymore. Stop me. Say you don&rsquo;t want my cum.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I...&rdquo; Her voice failed her. &ldquo;I want... I want...&rdquo; <br /><br />Before she could answer in full, he put his lips to hers. Joining in the kiss, she howled. The rigorous motion came to a stop, his body taut against hers. Their tails twisted around one another. He twitched. The white spilled out of her, pooling in the sheets. <br /><br />They kept breathing, mouths locked. Her eyes closed. As if she was content. She purred, a drawn out, rolling noise. You never purr. <br /><br />I had finished too. I glanced down, finding I had stained Achilles&rsquo; clothes. I wasn&rsquo;t sorry about it. I was sorry for Mercedes. I knew she loved Henry. <br /><br />Glancing out again, Achilles had risen from her. She pushed herself up and looked down herself. The cum, still spilling. &ldquo;Oh... What have we done?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Sex, of the worst sort,&rdquo; he said, rolling a cigarette. &ldquo;Want more?&rdquo; <br /><br />She narrowed her eyes and sighed. &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />He lit the cigarette. He shared it with her, and she coughed, but endured. I kept expecting her to come to her senses. To show a sign that she felt regret like me. To rise and storm out, doing her everything to forget. <br /><br />When the cigarette was finished, he pulled her in close. They kissed, lips tasting one another&rsquo;s tongues. She pulled off her dress. He grabbed one of her breasts. <br /><br />She leaned back and pulled him on top of her. He entered her again.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />&ldquo;Ask me...&rdquo; she whispered. &ldquo;Ask me to forget Henry.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Forget Henry. And love me.&rdquo; <br /><br />They fucked, less rigorous. He lifted her, bending her limbs to his whim. He did what he had wanted... Carried her atop his cock, against the wall. When he placed her sideways, lifting her leg, I had something of a view. The excitement overshadowed the regret. <br /><br />He finished on her belly. I finished with them. Let it be me next time. Hear me God. <br /><br />They lay, holding each other. As if meaning to go to sleep. Suddenly, Mercedes&rsquo; eyes shot open. Then she relaxed. She rose from the bed and started putting on her clothes. &ldquo;That was nice,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;But let&rsquo;s not speak of it again.&rdquo; She evened out the creases of her dress. <br /><br />&ldquo;Again,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Suit yourself. Remember, if nothing else: you&rsquo;re lovely.&rdquo; <br /><br />She nodded. She unlocked the door and watched carefully, before sneaking outside. <br /><br />As he sat up in the bed, rolling another cigarette, I felt another sort of regret. Regret that I wouldn&rsquo;t be able to leave, before he was fast asleep. Maybe not even then. <br /><br />He sighed, setting aside the cigarette. He rose and went to the closet. I almost bit off my tongue as the doors opened, and I was pulled out. I stood with my pants around my legs. <br /><br />&ldquo;You filthy cuckold...&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You are very lucky that your sister didn&rsquo;t hear you, panting in there. From one deranged pervert to another. These things always come back to bite you. So, get used to getting caught... Or be a better person. Understand?&rdquo; <br /><br />I nodded frantically, pulling up my pants. <br /><br />&ldquo;Go do your chores. Your family is worried.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Yes, thank you.&rdquo; I went to the door. As my sister had, I looked both ways, before sneaking into the evening shadows. <br /><br />&nbsp;<br /><br />16. <br /><br />The following day went by slowly. Mother, sister, and I waited in the courtyard for the riders to return with news of father. Mercedes looked like herself. I couldn&rsquo;t see if she was recalling last night. <br /><br />&nbsp;She would probably go on to marry Henry, having managed to bury the memory. If so, Achilles&rsquo; had lied. And it wouldn&rsquo;t come back to bite him. Which was somehow disappointing. Something so draining could not be allowed to happen... not without the sky falling down. <br /><br />I hoped she didn&rsquo;t hate herself for what had happened. If she did, I would tell her it was somehow all my fault. I would keep on until she believed me. <br /><br />Finally, the riders appeared. All of them. They weren&rsquo;t returning just with news. Father was with them. <br /><br />As they unsaddled, the farm&rsquo;s workers poured out of the buildings. Mercedes rushed to father&rsquo;s embrace. &ldquo;Welcome back!&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;And good seeing you all,&rdquo; he said, going to meet mother&rsquo;s embrace. &ldquo;I had not expected it to be so long an outing.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;What happened?&rdquo; mother asked, stepping back to push me ahead. <br /><br />I hugged him, though I was nervous. As if he through God would be able to feel what I had seen. <br /><br />&ldquo;Long story short,&rdquo; father said. &ldquo;The mayor is alright. We found him on our second day, down near where the rockslides tore up a patch of forest last year. He had a broken leg and couldn&rsquo;t move. We carried him to the other town over. He was patched up, looked over by doctors until he was cursing them out of the room. I tried to send a message back, but it seems it got lost in transit. I&rsquo;m glad to see nothing burned down, while I was gone. I can go into depth later. For now, I&rsquo;m starving.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Good!&rdquo; mother said, taking his hand. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll go put the bread in the oven. We have freshly churned butter.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;And I brought some sausage back. Things are looking up. Achilles, would you do me the favor of dragging old Betsy to the stables?&rdquo; <br /><br />Achilles nodded. &ldquo;Right away sir.&rdquo; <br /><br />We went to our places around the table inside. We filled our stomachs while father told in full how the trip to Eamington had cost them a full five days. As someone accustomed to telling lies, I noticed a hole in the story. They hadn&rsquo;t all needed to stay by the mayor&rsquo;s side. Someone could have gone back with the news. But I stayed quiet. <br /><br />&ldquo;What about here?&rdquo; father asked. &ldquo;Anything out of the ordinary happen?&rdquo; <br /><br />Mother and Mercedes&rsquo; eyes shifted over the room. <br /><br />&ldquo;No,&rdquo; Mercedes said. <br /><br />&ldquo;No,&rdquo; mother said. &ldquo;Same old farm you left.&rdquo; She smiled wide. <br /><br />I almost chuckled, but remembering Achilles&rsquo; reprimand for me, I kept quiet. <br /><br />&ldquo;Well, no news is good ne&ndash;&hellip; What in the...&rdquo; Father&rsquo;s eyes were fixed on something he had seen outside, through the window. He rose and went out the door. <br /><br />The rest of us stretched, to see what he had seen. Two were embracing in front of the barn. We gave each other confused looks. We rose and went after father. <br /><br />We made it in time to see father grab Achilles&rsquo; shoulder, tearing him away from Nina. <br /><br />&ldquo;Sir!&rdquo; father called. &ldquo;What do you have to say for yourself?&rdquo; <br /><br />Achilles smiled, as if he thought it was a joke. He gestured from Nina, back to our family. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know what to say, exactly. It was a... Private moment. I was not expecting to be... interrupted.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Well!&rdquo; father said, his ears lowered in fury and his tail a bristle. &ldquo;It is inappropriate behavior and no way to treat the other residents. I had heard of it, but now I have seen it with my own eyes. This will have consequences, Achilles.&rdquo; <br /><br />Achilles looked to Nina with a begging expression. <br /><br />Nina took on an affronted look. &ldquo;Yes! That&rsquo;s right, you pervert. Stay off me.&rdquo; With hands made fists at her sides, she rushed off from the scene. <br /><br />Achilles fanned out his arms in disbelief. &ldquo;You God damn...&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;And taking the Lord&rsquo;s name in vain. It does not speak well for you. You know, I had wanted to give you a chance, with the complaints we&rsquo;ve been getting, but now I don&rsquo;t see much of a choice. I&rsquo;m going to have to let you go.&rdquo; <br /><br />Achilles looked at the gathering. Realizing we couldn&rsquo;t help him, his expression changed to vengeful. &ldquo;Uh-huh. I see what&rsquo;s happening. You confess about your little pleasure trip to me, thinking it&rsquo;ll make you feel better about having slept with those whores. Then you get paranoid, afraid I might rat on you. Only way you see is to throw me out. But hey. Now I don&rsquo;t feel so bad about sleeping with your wife.&rdquo; <br /><br />Father stepped forward. <br /><br />&ldquo;Hey,&rdquo; Mercedes called. She rushed in between the two of them. &ldquo;Calm down, before someone says something they&rsquo;ll regret.&rdquo; <br /><br />&nbsp;&ldquo;Dear Mercy,&rdquo; father said, putting his arms around her. &ldquo;You don&rsquo;t need to defend him. He&rsquo;s a vile, lying, son-of-a-bitch.&rdquo; <br /><br />Achilles took a step closer. Mercedes turned in father&rsquo;s arms, pushing him back. Father took her by the shoulders, as if meaning to push her aside, but she held her spot. <br /><br />&ldquo;And you know what,&rdquo; Achilles said. &ldquo;Not just your wife. Your little daughter... Your betrothed little porcelain doll. She couldn&rsquo;t help herself last night.&rdquo;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />Father froze at the words. Mercedes folded her hands before her, making wide eyes at the ground. <br /><br />You wouldn&rsquo;t. <br /><br />&ldquo;She snuck into my room. And she begged for it... For this horse to ram her. To spit on her. To go deeper up her asshole than that piss-stain of a boy Henry ever would. She sucked on me, I sprayed over her. She shuddered as my seed filled her. She&rsquo;s spoiled, and she&rsquo;s not even sorry. Good luck marrying off that whore now.&rdquo; <br /><br />Mercedes looked ready to crumble where she stood. <br /><br />Father&rsquo;s fists had steadily tightened at her shoulders, as if he could have crushed her in shame. He leapt forth, Mercedes tumbling aside. His fist collided with Achilles&rsquo; chin, sending him stumbling into the wall. <br /><br />Achilles steadied himself and spat to the side. &ldquo;Good show, old man. Won&rsquo;t unfuck either of them.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Get your things,&rdquo; father said. &ldquo;If you hurry, I might not have time to load the shotgun. I swear to God.&rdquo;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />&ldquo;Fine.&rdquo; Achilles cracked his neck and walked off with long steps, aiming for his room.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />Father took Mercedes&rsquo; hand. &ldquo;Are you alright, dear?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Father,&rdquo; she said, sniveling. &ldquo;He&rsquo;s lying. I don&rsquo;t know why he would say those things. But I... I&rsquo;m...&rdquo; Tears rolled from her eyes. <br /><br />&ldquo;I know he&rsquo;s lying. He wanted to hurt me. The twisted thing. God have mercy on him...&rdquo;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />Mother wore a stiff expression and finally decided to get a word in. &ldquo;I tried to have a talk with him, but it seems to have only made him spiteful. We can&rsquo;t let it ruin our evening. Come on. Let&rsquo;s go inside.&rdquo; <br /><br />I followed the others. None of them cared about my fury. <br /><br />I had thought Achilles was like me. But he was not. He was evil. No strings, he had said, only to sell out Mercedes, who deserved nothing but happiness. <br /><br />And I had let it happen. I should have been the one punching Achilles to the ground. <br /><br />But I would keep doing nothing. It was what I was best at. No one expected more from a kid. <br /><br />&nbsp;<br /><br />17. <br /><br />I stood in in the middle of town. There were no people, only a tumbleweed crossing the road. &ldquo;Is this a dream?&rdquo; I asked. &ldquo;It is.&rdquo; The buildings were in the wrong places. Some buildings didn&rsquo;t have windows.&nbsp;&nbsp;The ground shifted, as if it were a sea. I was good a recognizing these things. <br /><br />At my hip was a gun. I was a gunslinger. <br /><br />I wasn&rsquo;t alone. At the end of the road were the gallows. A podium with dangling ropes above. I walked closer. On a stool with rope tightened around her neck was a beautiful white hind with antlers. Before her were two other gunslingers, standing on each side of the road, facing one another. Wolves with their hands hovering over their revolvers. <br /><br />I was in a stand-off. <br /><br />&ldquo;I save her,&rdquo; one said. <br /><br />&ldquo;You don&rsquo;t have the guts,&rdquo; the other said. <br /><br />&ldquo;What about me?&rdquo; I said. <br /><br />None of them noticed me. I shifted my gaze from one dead expression to the other, my anger growing by each moment. I snarled and pulled my gun. I shot one and then the other. But neither reacted. My bullets seemed to pass through them as if through air.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />The two wolves pulled their guns. They fanned the hammers, shooting six shots each. Their chests opened like blooming roses, and they both fell to the ground. <br /><br />I shrugged and went ahead. The hind turned up her blue eyes as I approached her. &ldquo;I save you?&rdquo; I said, making it a question. <br /><br />&ldquo;Will you?&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I think you won&rsquo;t. You will just stand by.&rdquo; <br /><br />I had a mind to prove her wrong. I shot for the rope above her, tied to her neck. My bullet once more went through air. <br /><br />&ldquo;I&rsquo;m right here,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Save me.&rdquo; <br /><br />I stepped closer. But instead, I ended up further away. How? I tried again, but the distance to the hind only grew. I could cry. &ldquo;Help me.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Help you?&rdquo; <br /><br />The podium collapsed beneath us, and we fell into a living room, landing in a lounge chair. I was nested in the hind&rsquo;s lap, tiny. A mere kitten. Her breasts swelled above me, ready to pull out of her dress. <br /><br />&ldquo;You want milk?&rdquo; she asked. &ldquo;Poor baby boy.&rdquo; <br /><br />I nodded. But she just looked at me. <br /><br />&ldquo;Why won&rsquo;t you help me?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;My sweetheart,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Just reach out. And take it. Nothing comes unearned.&rdquo; <br /><br />I grabbed a hold of the edge of her dress. I pulled down and out popped another darkness that swallowed up us both. <br /><br />We stood on the floor of the town&rsquo;s church. The hind waited at the altar. She wore a brilliant golden halo, ensnaring her antlers. She fanned out wings spread in a serrated pattern, like stars of the purest velvet. She blinded my vision. She was an angel. <br /><br />&ldquo;I am tired of watching,&rdquo; I said, not even daring to walk. &ldquo;Hiding. Never participating.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;What makes you think it needs to be that way?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I am a child. They would scoff at me. Tell me to go play.&rdquo;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />&ldquo;Dalton. Sweetheart. You have all the gifts of a sharpshooter; the wit, the keen eye, the charm. But you have simply not used it. You have chosen to stand by and watch.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Have I?&rdquo; <br /><br />She nodded. <br /><br />&ldquo;Then let me fuck you,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;Stand still, you whore.&rdquo; <br /><br />She giggled. &ldquo;Not all girls like to be demeaned and spat on. You are lucky that I do. So do it. Fuck me.&rdquo; She let her robes fall, baring her brilliant white body. <br /><br />With a hunger, I stepped closer. Her wings folded in hesitation. She took a step back, covering her breasts with her hands. &ldquo;Uh-uh.&rdquo; She blinked, batting her eye-lashes. <br /><br />I stood still, once again struck by helplessness. <br /><br />&ldquo;Just kidding,&rdquo; she said. She took my hand and pulled me into her embrace. &ldquo;My boy.&rdquo; We fell into velvet arrangements under the altar&rsquo;s decorations. I pulled out my cock, with all the grace of a kid. I slithered in between her legs and felt myself slide into place. She gasped in surprise. <br /><br />An angel... I had taken an Angel&rsquo;s virginity. What was her name? I felt it was Parisa. <br /><br />&ldquo;Parisa,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re wonderful.&rdquo; I put my mouth to her nipple. I drank her milk. It was mine.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />&ldquo;Easy,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;This is a dream. You&rsquo;re on your own when you wake.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Shut up,&rdquo; I said and pulled out of her. I turned her around, as if she had no weight. <br /><br />&ldquo;Oh my,&rdquo; she said, lifting her rear towards me. &ldquo;So bossy.&rdquo; <br /><br />I stuck my cock up the other hole. I slapped her. She moaned, as if she loved me. <br /><br />It wasn&rsquo;t long before I pulled out and turned her again. I took her by the antlers and pulled her to my crotch. I rubbed my balls on her nose. I didn&rsquo;t even stick my cock behind her lips. She was too pretty. I couldn&rsquo;t contain myself. I burst. My cum flew and painted her, white upon white. She was even prettier. <br /><br />&ldquo;Good boy,&rdquo; she said. And the world faded for the last time. <br /><br />I woke in my bed. I lifted my covers and found a wet stain on my underwear. I sighed and began the arduous journey of getting out of bed. <br /><br />&nbsp;<br /><br />18. <br /><br />It had been a week. Achilles had long since cleaned out his room and walked down the road to town. He had not shown himself since. I supposed he had gotten everything he wanted. Left were the Callaghan girls, seeming somewhat more sullen than usual. <br /><br />I felt invigorated. It might be the space Achilles had left. It might be that I wasn&rsquo;t so scared of my father, knowing he couldn&rsquo;t keep men off his wife. I was set to split wood and had gone through the reserve in two days. I touched the horseshoe on my cheek. Time to bring me fortune.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />Parisa sat on my shoulder, an imaginary friend I wouldn&rsquo;t trade for anything. A lightning bug in the corner of my eye. When I complimented her trailing wings, she rubbed her breasts, whinnying in pleasure. It was time to go discovering. <br /><br />It had been while since I&rsquo;d attended lessons with Nina. <br /><br />Father had heard of the incident between her and Henry. It unraveled without my need to admit I had seen Achilles pay her.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />She admitted that it had just been meant as a joke. She was brought against the wall in the common room and apologized formally to Henry and Mercedes. There was talk that firing her would have been the right thing to do. But somehow, her behavior wasn&rsquo;t deemed as inappropriate as Achilles&rsquo;. I suspected it had something to do with her being a woman. She kept working, but I noticed that others stayed clear of her if they could help it.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />When our next lesson was due, I found her in the common room, staring into several open books. She rested on her elbows, fingers gripping at her hair. A bottle of rum stood open within arm&rsquo;s reach, and I could smell it on her breath.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />&ldquo;What&rsquo;s the matter?&rdquo; I asked, sitting down at her side. &ldquo;Miss the farmhand?&rdquo; Maybe Trick wouldn&rsquo;t even give her the time of day. It might be that this was the time for sweettalk. <br /><br />She shook her head. &ldquo;Cole wants me to teach you botany. I know jack about botany. I don&rsquo;t get paid enough for this.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;So what?&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;We&rsquo;ll say you taught me. We do something else.&rdquo; I scooted closer to her on the bench. <br /><br />&ldquo;What&rsquo;s the difference between these two mushrooms?&rdquo; She showed me the page of the book, adjusting her glasses. &ldquo;I just don&rsquo;t see it. Apparently, one will kill you.&rdquo; <br /><br />One mushroom clearly had a longer, more rugged stem. I ignored the question and went with my instincts instead. If they steered me off course, then so be it. &ldquo;What&rsquo;s a cuckold?&rdquo; <br /><br />She blinked frantically, caught off guard. &ldquo;I... uh. Buddy. Why do you ask?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Someone called me a cuckold. What does it mean?&rdquo; <br /><br />She made a tight frown. &ldquo;I... poor thing. I&rsquo;m not sure I should say.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;You&rsquo;re my teacher. Teach me.&rdquo; <br /><br />She rolled her hand, searching for words. &ldquo;A cuckold is uh... A man. Who is raising someone else&rsquo;s kid, you see?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;So, she cheated on him? Alright.&rdquo; I thought back to when I had been hiding in Achilles&rsquo; room. I had thought he had meant to insult me for watching. Had he implied that Mercedes had cheated on me? It was almost a compliment, then. &ldquo;Does a cuckold watch her cheating on him?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve heard some men enjoy that sort of thing...&rdquo; She shook her head, remembering to compose herself. &ldquo;Dalton. You shouldn&rsquo;t be asking these things.&rdquo; <br /><br />Don&rsquo;t act so prim. &ldquo;Does your boyfriend enjoy you cheating on him?&rdquo; <br /><br />Her eyes turned wide. &ldquo;I... he... You rascal. I&rsquo;m not... I wouldn&rsquo;t.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I saw you in the barn. With Trick and Achilles. You asked if you could suck me off.&rdquo; <br /><br />She sat back, stunned. In her silence, she seemed to remember. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m... I&rsquo;m sorry, Dalton. That was not appropriate.&rdquo; <br /><br />Now she&rsquo;s sorry? &ldquo;It&rsquo;s alright.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;You won&rsquo;t... Tell Cole, right?&rdquo; <br /><br />I narrowed my eyes. &ldquo;But your boyfriend wouldn&rsquo;t mind?&rdquo; <br /><br />She giggled in disbelief. &ldquo;Are you... Blackmailing me?&rdquo; <br /><br />I could, probably. &ldquo;No, I&rsquo;m just curious. And I&rsquo;m tired of just being a kitten. I saw you with cum on your face. Is your boyfriend a cuckold?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;No, he&rsquo;s not.&rdquo; <br /><br />At my shoulder, Parisa nodded for me to go on. &ldquo;Would you like him to be?&rdquo; I put my hand on Nina&rsquo;s thigh. <br /><br />She shivered. &ldquo;What&rsquo;s gotten into you? This is weird, Dalton. I should teach you some manners.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Yes.&rdquo; I lowered my ears in a predatory gesture and swept my tail so it curled around the bush of hers. &ldquo;Teach me. Someone has to. Would it be so bad?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Teach you about... sex? You&rsquo;re actually asking for...&rdquo; <br /><br />Her words, not mine. &ldquo;Please.&rdquo; As I leaned my nose against her bosom, I purred. Every cat&rsquo;s secret weapon. <br /><br />&ldquo;I... Damn it, why am I being so holy? It&rsquo;s better than mushrooms.&rdquo; She looked over her shoulder and whispered. &ldquo;Follow me.&rdquo; <br /><br />She pulled me up by my hand, grabbed the rum with the other, and we went outside. With our heads low, we headed to the barn. I heard nothing but my heart pounding in my ears. She aimed for the backmost booth. Inside was a tall bed of hay.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />She pointed. &ldquo;Sit down. Little brat.&rdquo; <br /><br />I did as told, afraid that anything I said might cause my luck to run out.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />She drank from the bottle of rum, before crouching down. She set it aside and neared me, managing a dangerous gaze, even with round cheeks and round glasses. &ldquo;First time?&rdquo; <br /><br />I nodded. <br /><br />&ldquo;How old are you again?&rdquo; She started undoing my pants. <br /><br />&ldquo;Thirteen next week.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;It&rsquo;s probably tiny.&rdquo; When my pants slipped down and my cock fell out, hard as ever, she smiled. &ldquo;Could be worse.&rdquo; <br /><br />This was where I should put her in place. Punish her. But all my confidence seemed gone. I reached out for the bottle and holding it to my lips, I waited for her to tell me I shouldn&rsquo;t be drinking. She simply looked impatient, and I drank. Coughing, I set the bottle down. <br /><br />&ldquo;Nervous?&rdquo; <br /><br />I shook my head. <br /><br />She showed her buckteeth in a grin, not believing me. &ldquo;You asked for it.&rdquo; She held up my cock and touched her nose to it. I shook. &ldquo;What have you been imagining? Little pervert.&rdquo; <br /><br />Putting my cock into her mouth. Ever since that night. I touched my palm to her ear. I had never touched her ear before. I had barely hugged her. I pulled her closer. <br /><br />&ldquo;Hm.&rdquo; She closed her eyes. &ldquo;I said I would.&rdquo; She opened her mouth and leaned forth. I felt her saliva, at once hot and cold against me. Her tongue beneath. The tip of her buckteeth above. <br /><br />I lost control of my breathing. Already, the rum seemed to be making me dizzy. <br /><br />She toyed with me. She retreated, when I shook the most, only barely putting her hand to use. Then she swallowed me up, slowly from the tip down. She fitted my balls into her mouth, and the wet sensation sent my mind reeling.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />&ldquo;Are you imagining I&rsquo;m your boyfriend?&rdquo; I said, meaning to make it humiliating, like Achilles had. But instead, I felt meek. <br /><br />&ldquo;His name is Eric,&rdquo; she said, squeezing me. &ldquo;And sure, you&rsquo;re making a cuckold of him, young master.&rdquo; <br /><br />I had only seen Eric once, but I imagined he was furious about Nina&rsquo;s habits. Young master. I liked that. &ldquo;Lay down,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;Spread your legs.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;So much for teaching,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;You already know the basics.&rdquo; She rolled over beside me. She pulled off her underwear and spread her legs as instructed. <br /><br />I crawled in between them. Nina was short and plumb, but she suddenly towered over me. Once I had feared her reprimands. Again, I felt she could ruin me, if she wanted. Focus. &ldquo;Your breasts. Show me.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Call them tits,&rdquo; she said, pulling down her dress. <br /><br />They fell out, and I could not keep my hands away. They could not fit in my palms. I lifted a nipple to my mouth and sucked. As she moaned, I felt victorious. <br /><br />&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll put my cock...&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;Inside your...&rdquo; I hesitated. <br /><br />&ldquo;Call it a cunt, if you must.&rdquo; <br /><br />I would take her in the cunt. I pressed my hips forward, sliding my nose from between her breasts, up her neck. My body started humping, before I told it to. <br /><br />&ldquo;Easy,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;You won&rsquo;t impress a girl with that accuracy.&rdquo; She reached down, and I felt her fingers around my cock. Her other hand in my back pulled me in and suddenly I felt tremendous warmth envelop me. I was inside. The velvet waves took me, and I was afraid it would be over in moments. <br /><br />She seemed to read my expression. &ldquo;Take deep breaths. Go slow and tighten your stomach.&rdquo; <br /><br />Enough teaching. I knew my way from here. &ldquo;Shut up. Dumb bunny.&rdquo; <br /><br />She breathed happily, her hand in my hair, pressing me against her. &ldquo;Dear me. Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?&rdquo; <br /><br />I thought back to that night. Kiss my mother? I looked into her eyes, gathered my courage, and put my lips to hers. For a moment, I was in love with her. My annoying teacher. Her tongue slipped into my mouth, and I pushed back. <br /><br />I felt I was good at kissing. The look she gave me when I pulled away told me to feel proud. <br /><br />&ldquo;Mommy,&rdquo; I whispered, pushing my nose beneath her drooping ear. &ldquo;Can I... Can I finish inside?&rdquo; <br /><br />She made her primal groan, less composed than she&rsquo;d been with Achilles. &ldquo;No. But do it anyway.&rdquo; Her legs folded around me, and the feeling of warmth was complete. <br /><br />What if she got with child? That&rsquo;s what cum did. Achilles hadn&rsquo;t cared, so neither would I. I stretched, letting the velvet overtake me. I felt my cock release in her, heartbeat for heartbeat. For once, my cum went where it should. My pride burned. There was no regret. <br /><br />I became limp on top of her. What now? <br /><br />She kissed me repeatedly, small pecks on my forehead, hair, and ears. &ldquo;There, sweetheart. I made a man of you.&rdquo; She sighed and leaned back. &ldquo;Whew. I can cross that off my list.&rdquo; Had I been on a list?&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />She patted my back, as if to signal for me to get off. I didn&rsquo;t want to pull out of her. &ldquo;I want to do it again.&rdquo; <br /><br />She nodded in understanding. &ldquo;We need to get back in, before your real mommy starts wondering why we&rsquo;re not studying.&rdquo; <br /><br />No! I didn&rsquo;t want to. <br /><br />She put a hand in my shoulder and pushed me off. &ldquo;Stubborn brat.&rdquo; <br /><br />I crawled away, feeling the shame looming after all. <br /><br />She handed me my pants and kissed me again. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s cute. But don&rsquo;t overdo it.&rdquo; <br /><br />I nodded. I was at a loss as for how I&rsquo;d manage to get any studying done again, ever. But it might be the prospect of spending more time with her would help. <br /><br />&nbsp;<br /><br />19. <br /><br />My birthday came and the farmstead&rsquo;s residents gathered in the summer evening, cheering for the great bonfire. <br /><br />Mother got me socks and a shirt. <br /><br />Henry and Mercedes got me a toy gun, which was almost what I wanted. They spent most of the party in each other&rsquo;s arms. I was convinced she had managed to forget Achilles properly, and I felt relieved for them. <br /><br />One gift outshined the others. I had expected a hammer but got something else. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t go running off with a gang now,&rdquo; father said, messing up my hair, before setting a cowboy hat on my head. It was tailored to my growing size, and I refused to take it off for anything. <br /><br />We ate of the well-sugared rhubarb pies mother had prepared for the occasion. We all drank beer, even me, and I felt properly drunk for the first time. <br /><br />Nina passed me a shot of whiskey when no one was looking. I pretended to like it. People kept less of a distance to her tonight, and I got the sense that the backlash from her prank was ebbing out. <br /><br />When I asked if she had gotten me a present, she asked me to meet her in the barn. <br /><br />In there, she pulled my pants down and took my cock in her mouth. I had lost my manners drinking beer, and I pulled her ears, pushing her glasses and nose against my crotch. She didn&rsquo;t seem to mind. <br /><br />She asked me to call her mommy again. I did as I finished on her tongue. With dramatic flourish, she swallowed my cum, and I was caught off guard by how the sound of it sent my drunk mind off course. It was almost as good a gift as the hat. Almost. <br /><br />We split up and met up back at the party. <br /><br />I poured myself another mug of beer and sat laughing with Nina and the farmhands, when mother showed up above me. She huffed and took the mug from me. &ldquo;Young man,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s enough of that.&rdquo; <br /><br />I stretched for it, but she kept it out reach. &ldquo;Come on,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s my birthday.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Not for much longer,&rdquo; she smirked. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s getting late.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Missus Callaghan,&rdquo; Trick said from the other end of the table. &ldquo;We&rsquo;ve got an eye on him.&rdquo; He nodded faintly. <br /><br />She sighed, settling into a reluctant smile. &ldquo;Fine. But no more drinking. If I find him huddled up in a ditch tomorrow, choking on vomit, I&rsquo;m holding you all accountable.&rdquo; There were nods of reverent agreement.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />As she turned and left, lifting my beer to her lips, I grinned, eying her rolling hips. <br /><br />Nina&rsquo;s gift had left me at once with a crisp calm and a hunger that wouldn&rsquo;t be sated by just beer. Might be that Nina was ready for another round later, but calling her mommy felt vaguely disingenuous.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />I felt certain that it could be real, and with Parisa nodding on my shoulder, no doubts surfaced. <br /><br />&nbsp;<br /><br />20.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />I took my hat and my gun and I went to the steep ledges near the river. I balanced on the rocks, and I pictured myself shooting at the birds. When they scattered, I imagined enemies my own size instead. First, I was the sheriff, warding off wolf outlaws and coyote Indians, coming to piss in the feeding troughs of town. Then I got bored, and instead I was myself an outlaw, pillaging the Indians. I imagined the Indian chieftain having a young, shy daughter, wearing braids and a bushy tail. I imagined fucking her, even though she had told me no. <br /><br />In my fantasy, my mother suddenly pulled my ear and dragged me off the poor girl. She sat me down at the kitchen table and lifted a finger. &ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t raise a ruffian! If a girl says no, then that&rsquo;s it, mister. No more fucking.&rdquo; Behing my closed eyes, mother&rsquo;s stern expression became soft and inviting. &ldquo;But you can fuck me instead.&rdquo; <br /><br />Mother sat onto the kitchen table and spread her legs, her thick tail waving me towards her. I leaned against her, sinking into her soft, white, velvet cunt. With her legs wrapped around me, I disappeared in her embrace. <br /><br />My eyes opened at the sound of a branch snapping somewhere in the brook, and I looked about me, somehow afraid that mother was standing above me, ready to slap me. I remained alone. <br /><br />I eyed Parisa. &ldquo;Am I deranged? My mother wouldn&rsquo;t want me. She&rsquo;d hate me.&rdquo; If I wanted to fuck mothers, the grown-up thing to do was to go seduce some other man&rsquo;s wife on another farm, like Achilles. <br /><br />&ldquo;Your mother...&rdquo; Parisa said. &ldquo;Is the deranged one. She keeps up appearances. But if she didn&rsquo;t have to, she would fuck every single man in sight.&rdquo; She leaned against me, caressing me with her breasts. &ldquo;Including you. You are a man now, right? You deserve it.&rdquo; <br /><br />I narrowed my eyes. &ldquo;But how? Nina was easy. We can&rsquo;t be stooping to trickery.&rdquo; I wasn&rsquo;t sure why, but that seemed beyond negotiation. <br /><br />&ldquo;Trust your instincts.&rdquo; Nina was suddenly distracted and pointed. &ldquo;What&rsquo;s that?&rdquo; <br /><br />I looked over the ledge. Next to the river, a bright green frog sat on a rock, croaking. &ldquo;Ohh,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;Those are rare.&rdquo; I could catch it. Hold it in my palm. I rose, meaning to step closer at a careful pace. <br /><br />The ledge broke under my paw, and I fell. My hat snatched onto a protruding branch, and I caught it, but it couldn&rsquo;t hold my weight. It slid out of my hand, and I rolled all the way to the water. <br /><br />I lay still for a moment, before deciding nothing was hurting. I pushed myself up and found that the frog was gone. My heart raced when I looked up and saw my hat still hanging on the branch. <br /><br />I crawled for it and pulled it to my embrace. As it slid off the branch, a sense of dread struck me. The branch had speared the hat and left a hole I could poke my finger through.&nbsp;&nbsp; <br /><br />I ran back to the farm as fast as I could. I searched for mother and found her reading in the kitchen. These days, she was reading like she had never read before. She had no idea that I knew exactly what her stories were about. I had borrowed her book briefly, skimming it. There were indeed passages with some stomach-turning descriptions of cocks and cunts. She looked up at me, smiling as if she was reading the bible. &ldquo;What is it, sweetheart?&rdquo; <br /><br />I held forth the cowboy hat. She took it, turning it in her hands with a perplexed look. Finally, she found the hole. &ldquo;Oh, how&rsquo;d you manage that? Playing rough again? I&rsquo;ve told you to be careful. Are you hurt?&rdquo; She grabbed my chin, squeezing my cheeks as she looked me over. <br /><br />&ldquo;I&rsquo;m fine. Can you fix it?&rdquo; Father would be mad, if he saw I had ruined his present. <br /><br />She poked a finger through the hole. &ldquo;What, you think cowboys don&rsquo;t get their hats scraped? Wear and tear is part of the look.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Please.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Alright.&rdquo; She rose, taking her book with her into the workshop. She brought back needle and thread and sat down, working in silence. I pulled out a chair and watched from a safe distance. <br /><br />It was over in a matter of minutes. <br /><br />She stepped up before me. &ldquo;There you go,&rdquo; she said with a beaming smile. She placed the hat on my head, pushing my ears down. &ldquo;My little cowboy. Go melt some hearts.&rdquo; <br /><br />I was filled with a warm rush of confidence. Trust your instincts. &ldquo;Can I melt yours?&rdquo; Mother laughed, as if she thought I was joking, and I felt equally embarrassed and angry.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />&ldquo;You&rsquo;re adorable,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;But I am a married woman. You&rsquo;ll invoke my man&rsquo;s ire.&rdquo; <br /><br />Why. Why does that matter now, you whore? I reached out and grabbed her by the shoulder, meaning to appear daring and irresistible. &ldquo;What if he doesn&rsquo;t find out? I fuck better than he does.&rdquo; <br /><br />Mother made wide, stunned eyes. She blinked for several breaths. Then she adjusted her shoulders, composing her frame. She nodded, giving me a severe look. &ldquo;I suppose I knew this day would come. You&rsquo;ve probably heard some of the older boys spouting nonsense about how sex works. We need to have a talk.&rdquo; <br /><br />Was she meaning to teach me about how two people who loved each other did sex to make kittens. &ldquo;I know how sex works, mom,&rdquo; I said, shaking with frustration. &ldquo;And I know how much you love it.&rdquo; <br /><br />Her frown tightened into an expression of anger. &ldquo;Dalton. You can&rsquo;t talk to me like that. I&rsquo;m your mother. You can&rsquo;t talk to people like that.&rdquo; <br /><br />My heart raced, as I refused to admit my mistake. &ldquo;Why not? Why don&rsquo;t I get to have fun?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Because that&rsquo;s just how it is. Because I said so, and because God sends people who talk like that to hell, understand?&rdquo; <br /><br />I absolutely did not. I shook my head to myself. But maybe that was the point. She wanted me to push. To make a game of it. Mother liked the idea of playful blackmail. I was certain of it. I met her solid gaze. &ldquo;If you don&rsquo;t suck my cock, I&rsquo;ll tell father I saw you do it with Achilles.&rdquo; <br /><br />Mother&rsquo;s eyes became slivers of red-hot malice. She leapt up and pulled me by the ear. &ldquo;What&rsquo;s gotten into you?&rdquo; she hissed. &ldquo;You&rsquo;ve never been so... foul-mouthed.&rdquo; <br /><br />The sensations in me went to war and stuck in all directions. I started crying heavy tears. <br /><br />We reached my room, and mother placed me in my bed. She crossed her arms before me. &ldquo;Out with it. What happened? Talk to me.&rdquo; <br /><br />I raised my hands to my face, wanting to hide. I was humiliated. Why did I listen to Parisa? I could kill her, if she wasn&rsquo;t just empty air. &ldquo;I just... I just don&rsquo;t see...&rdquo; The words burned in my mouth. &ldquo;Why he gets to do it... And I have to watch like a cuckold.&rdquo; I fell to the side, nesting myself on my pillow. &ldquo;It was a joke. I&rsquo;m not going to tell father. But I thought... I thought you would like it. You did with Achilles.&rdquo; Now she would hate me. <br /><br />Mother was about to rebut. Then she closed her mouth. A solemn sigh seemed evidence that she knew I had caught her in the act. &ldquo;I... What happened with Achilles was a mistake. It does not mean that something like that could... should happen between us, Dalton. You&rsquo;re too young, and we&rsquo;re family.&rdquo; <br /><br />Three mistakes, at least. I could have been a nice little mistake too, no problem. &ldquo;I understand,&rdquo; I said, choking on my words. &ldquo;I won&rsquo;t tell father. If you won&rsquo;t tell him that I&rsquo;m deranged.&rdquo; <br /><br />She sat down at my side. She ran a hand through my hair and caressed my ear, as if meaning to mend the place she had pinched. &ldquo;Oh, Dalton. You&rsquo;re not deranged. You&rsquo;re just a boy with a lot of new emotions. It&rsquo;ll get easier to understand in time.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I understand just fine,&rdquo; I said, careful not to hiss. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve done it already.&rdquo; <br /><br />Her hand stopped. &ldquo;With who?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;N-&hellip;&rdquo; I began, before recognizing a note of malice in her voice. She might feel that firing Nina was for my own good. &ldquo;No one you know.&rdquo; <br /><br />She hesitated in disbelief. &ldquo;I hope it was special for you,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Sex is something to... tread carefully about. I should tell you to... remain abstinent like your sister, but I suppose it doesn&rsquo;t mean a lot coming from me, now does it?&rdquo; She chuckled. &ldquo;My little boy. Even with your running around, climbing the fences... I thought I had a lock on you. But you&rsquo;re growing up. It makes me scared of losing you. Please be careful.&rdquo; <br /><br />I sat up and put my arms around her. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll be careful.&rdquo; And your daughter isn&rsquo;t abstinent either. <br /><br />&ldquo;Please don&rsquo;t be disappointed in me,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I should have been better.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I&rsquo;m not disappointed,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;Just jealous.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Hm,&rdquo; she said, without jerking as if I had said something atrocious. &ldquo;You don&rsquo;t want me, sweetheart.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I do.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; she said, as if in understanding. &ldquo;Dalton. I don&rsquo;t want you to think I hate you.&rdquo; She paused. &ldquo;Do you remember...? Even a few years ago. You would crawl into our bed, and I would read to you. And suddenly you stopped.&rdquo; She held me. &ldquo;Do you want to... hear me read to you again?&rdquo; <br /><br />Some sort of peace offering? I was afraid lying in her bed would make everything worse. But I couldn&rsquo;t say no to her. <br /><br />&nbsp;<br /><br />21. <br /><br />In my nightwear, I lay pressed close against mother in her and father&rsquo;s bed. I might have to leave when father was done in the workshop, but if I fell asleep first, he might not bother to throw me out.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />Her tail swayed beside her. She held a small book above the sheets. I wondered if it was another book with sex in it. But then I remembered the silent truce that seemed to have fallen and tried to push the thought away. <br /><br />Mother cleared her throat. <br /><br />&ldquo;The Little Coyote and the Cowboy. A little coyote with feathers in her hair was the pride of the Deep-Valley Tribe. When her father was out hunting, she would dance over the hills, wearing dresses decorated in prairie flowers, and soon every man in the land around the valley had seen her. It was not uncommon for the tribe to have visitors, among which were always at least one hungry man, who meant to take her hand in marriage. But Little Coyote thought them brutish and told her father to turn them away, which he gladly did. One day, a fox cowboy came to visit, a six-shooter at his hip...&rdquo; Mother stopped, as I had turned away from her, nervously doubled over. &ldquo;What is it?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I&rsquo;m just... It&rsquo;s nothing.&rdquo; I was hard. I had made the mistake of imagining the little coyote with big breasts and had long pictured the moment where she gave herself away to the cowboy. <br /><br />&ldquo;Is the story boring? I quite like it. The Cowboy won&rsquo;t leave the girl be. She challenges him to a shootout and wins, then...&rdquo; She stopped. &ldquo;Are you...&rdquo; She leaned over me. <br /><br />&ldquo;No,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;You&rsquo;ll get mad.&rdquo; <br /><br />She pulled off the covers and saw my pants pushed out by my hard cock. &ldquo;My...&rdquo; She put the covers back. &ldquo;I... won&rsquo;t get mad. Promise.&rdquo; She pulled me closer and pressed me against her once more. &ldquo;Where were we...?&rdquo; She lifted the book. <br /><br />The tip of my cock was pressing against her thigh. How could she not notice? I gasped and hissed through my teeth. <br /><br />She set the book aside. &ldquo;God. I bet you&rsquo;ll just find some cheap broad... You could stay at home, where someone loves you.&rdquo; Her fingers took a sharp grip of me. &ldquo;Did you say... You were going to tell your father about me and the farmhand?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;No,&rdquo; I said, breath caught in my throat. &ldquo;I wouldn&rsquo;t, I promise.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;It&rsquo;s a shame,&rdquo; she said, biting her lip. &ldquo;If my son was to blackmail me... I would have no choice... But to do as he said.&rdquo; <br /><br />My mind wouldn&rsquo;t register the meaning of her words. But after a wavering breath, I managed to respond. &ldquo;I could tell him. If you... Help me out. I might not.&rdquo; <br /><br />Her hand slipped beneath the covers. I felt it, first against my stomach. She slid down and dug into my pants. Her fingers wrapped around my cock. My breathing went rapid. <br /><br />&ldquo;How did I manage to raise a pervert?&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I guess I already failed.&rdquo; <br /><br />I wanted to play along. To be clever. But my thoughts were a jittering, balled up squeal of joy, and no words would form. <br /><br />&ldquo;Tell me what you want,&rdquo; she said, painfully calm. &ldquo;Little cowboy.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Keep... keep touching me,&rdquo; I said, snaking out of my pants. <br /><br />She squeezed, lifting gently, then sinking. &ldquo;Like this?&rdquo; <br /><br />With a burning body, I turned and placed my face beneath her breasts. &ldquo;Keep going.&rdquo; I gripped her nightgown and pulled down, not as careful as I had imagined. I had seen her breasts before, down by the river. Not this close. Not with her surprised eyes above, an inch of surrender each moment. With our gazes locked, my mouth found her nipple and sucked. I closed my eyes, carving the scene into my mind with all I had. Her hand on my cock, fingers grazing my balls. The warmth of her breasts. <br /><br />&ldquo;I remember...&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;When I had just had you. We couldn&rsquo;t get you to nurse... You had to be starving before surrendering. How things change.&rdquo;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />I nodded, tonguing her fur shamelessly.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />&ldquo;I kind of like the thought... That you want your mother this much. Enough to blackmail. Like a scoundrel.&rdquo; <br /><br />I would answer, if it didn&rsquo;t mean I would have to stop sucking. Somehow, she kept me from finishing, slowing down when she sensed my trembling. <br /><br />&ldquo;Is this all you want? You already know how bad a mother I am.&rdquo; Her finger slipped below my balls, caressing between my cheeks, and the sensation sent my back arching and my tail whipping. &ldquo;My scoundrel,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Would you like... To take back my womb?&rdquo; <br /><br />I grabbed her arm, stopping her stroking. She made a mock gasp. I repositioned. She put her fingers to her mouth, aghast as I pulled off her underwear and spread her legs. Her cunt, behind the depths of her bush of a tail. She looked like a slope of snowfall among the sheets. I dived in, sliding up her body. I pushed her breasts against me. My hand went through the fur on her cheek, then held her ear. I wanted to tell her that it was more than I thought I deserved.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />She narrowed her eyes. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re hesitating,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Go ahead. You came from there. It&rsquo;s yours.&rdquo; <br /><br />I put my hips against her. Remembering the motions from with Nina, I slid inside. We breathed together in near shock at the heat of the embrace. I humped, reckless. The bed shook. I sucked on her breasts, one after the other. <br /><br />&ldquo;There...&rdquo; she said, putting a hand in my hair. &ldquo;Now there&rsquo;s nothing to be jealous of.&rdquo; <br /><br />I was somehow still jealous. She lied. It wasn&rsquo;t just mine. There would keep being others. But I couldn&rsquo;t mind. I couldn&rsquo;t tell her no. I could even enjoy it. &ldquo;When I watched you...&rdquo; I said, honesty rolling from me. &ldquo;With him. I finished. Without even touching myself.&rdquo; If I was honest... then she&rsquo;d be too. <br /><br />Her fingers gripped my hair. &ldquo;You like that? Your mother being bad?&rdquo; <br /><br />I did. &ldquo;How bad are you? How many farmhands was it?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Two.&rdquo; <br /><br />More than Achilles. I hadn&rsquo;t thought I could get harder. She gasped, feeling it. &ldquo;Who?&rdquo; I whispered in her ear. <br /><br />She snickered. &ldquo;Tell me who you fucked first.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Nina.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;That whore.&rdquo; She growled. &ldquo;I fucked Achilles. And that wolf before him, Neil. And now you.&rdquo; <br /><br />I finished before I wanted to. My legs went numb, my claws digging into the sheets. Mother grabbed my hands, intertwining her fingers with mine. My cum released, and I felt more of myself pouring into her than I had thought possible. At my last waning strokes, she purred. <br /><br />&ldquo;Scoundrel,&rdquo; she said, holding me. &ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t say you could finish inside.&rdquo; <br /><br />I wondered if she could have stopped me, if she wanted to. Now, part of me was in her. I felt beaming pride. We lay still against one another, simply breathing. Time slowed. She ran her fingers through my hair and stroked my back, as I focused on the rhythm of her heart. Not knowing if this would happen again, I didn&rsquo;t want to pull out of her. <br /><br />There were sounds of steps on the stairs outside. <br /><br />&ldquo;Fuck,&rdquo; she said, eyes thrown into calamity. &ldquo;Get under the bed.&rdquo; <br /><br />I was practically kicked off the side, barely having the sense to hold on to the sheets, to avoid the sound thump of colliding with the floor boards. I slithered into the dusty dark beneath the bed and froze when the door opened. I saw father&rsquo;s paws cross the floor, as he placed himself at the foot of the bed.&nbsp;&nbsp;&ldquo;There you are,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Early for you to go to bed.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Just getting some reading in,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I might have caught a cold, so I&rsquo;m a bit winded.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Ah, I see.&rdquo; Father stood for a long moment. The silence quickly became heavy. &ldquo;Uh... I.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;What is it? You&rsquo;re not here to turn in?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;No... I.&rdquo; His voice was sad and weak. &ldquo;There&rsquo;s no easy way to say this. I know it has been a while since we have made love. Properly. In a way where we could... Feel each other. As when we were young.&rdquo;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />I got a strange lump in my throat. My thoughts had somehow managed to dodge the image of my father having sex entirely. <br /><br />Mother coughed. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m aware. My thought was... That you were simply... Disinterested.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;It&rsquo;s... I am deeply sorry. You are the most beautiful woman a man could wish for and... I should have been more grateful.&rdquo; It sounded as if he were about to cry. &ldquo;I... The guilt is eating me up. When we were in Eamington. There was a vixen... Named Roxanne. She served drinks at the tavern. She earned... many gazes, singing by the piano. When the night got old, and she slid down the bar desk... I swear, they put something in that beer. I should have stopped sooner...&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Cole...&rdquo; She tsk&rsquo;ed. &ldquo;A fox named Roxanne. That&rsquo;s downright clich&eacute;.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;It wasn&rsquo;t her um... real name, but she didn&rsquo;t say...&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;You fucked her,&rdquo; she said with a solid laugh. &ldquo;Cole, God&rsquo;s best disciple. That&rsquo;s a surprise.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I did,&rdquo; he said, not proud, but responsible. &ldquo;I am ashamed. I have failed you. And I can only hope to God that you and he can muster mercy. I understand if you want to leave me... But I couldn&rsquo;t live a lie. If you will allow me... I will do everything in my power to appease you.&rdquo; <br /><br />My father cheating. I thought Achilles had lied. I wondered if that might mean the sky could fall. <br /><br />&ldquo;Appease me,&rdquo; mother repeated with a huff. &ldquo;As if I&rsquo;m a dragon.&rdquo; She tapped the sheets. &ldquo;Come sit down. Loosen your shoulders. You&rsquo;re sweating something fierce.&rdquo; <br /><br />He sighed and hesitated, before sitting down in bed. I saw his weight beside mother&rsquo;s. <br /><br />She scooted closer to him. &ldquo;We&rsquo;ve been married for... what, eighteen years. That&rsquo;s half our lives. We were... pure in the eyes of the Lord. While I am scorned that you&rsquo;re more interested in some tavern whore than me... Who am I to tell you that you had to let that simmer and fester in you until you died? Now you know what a fox can squeeze from you. You&rsquo;ve got to be relieved.&rdquo; <br /><br />He searched for his words. &ldquo;No. No! I am not relieved. You are the love of my life, Eloise... and I turned my back on you. I cannot be relieved. I don&rsquo;t deserve it.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Ah, my Cole... Do you want to be...&rdquo; I could hear her smirk. &ldquo;Punished?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;What are you... ah!&rdquo; His weight shifted, and soon his breathing rose to where his words wouldn&rsquo;t form. I recognized the moans. She was touching his cock. <br /><br />&ldquo;How was she?&rdquo; she asked. &ldquo;Was she young and agile? Did she do all the things I haven&rsquo;t done for you?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Ahn. She was... nothing. I only thought of you.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t lie. Tell me what I need to do to win you back.&rdquo; <br /><br />His voice leapt. &ldquo;She put it... in her mouth.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Silly you. All you needed to do was ask.&rdquo; Her weight shifted, the dents of her knees appearing beside his waist. The sound of her lips smacking rang. The sound of drool falling from her tongue. I needed to see. Careful, I turned myself. In the window, I could see their reflection. She was leaned down, his cock in her mouth. With my crotch pressed against the floor, my cock moved. I felt a need to listen with all my attention. <br /><br />&ldquo;I must say,&rdquo; he said, his voice trembling. &ldquo;I thought you would be... furious. The craziest thoughts crossed me. I thought... I would have to let you do the same to me. That I would have to let you... let someone else into the bedroom. I had thoughts... of sin.&rdquo; <br /><br />She looked up. &ldquo;What if I already did? What would you think of me?&rdquo; <br /><br />His faltering voice moved to her touch on his cock. &ldquo;I would... be angry. But I would remember my failing... And feel like a small man.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;If you want to... be angry.&rdquo; She licked him. &ldquo;Ask me what I did. Or do you like to think I&rsquo;m... still pure?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;What did you do?&rdquo; he asked with a resigned whisper. <br /><br />&ldquo;I fucked Achilles. Just like he said. When you were gone, I took him to your office to scold him. Instead, I let him throw me over your paperwork. He tied me up. Seeded me.&rdquo; Her devious grin reflected white in the window. &ldquo;Are you angry? Will you leave me?&rdquo; <br /><br />He groaned, deep and wild. &ldquo;You... you&rsquo;re awful.&rdquo; He grabbed her by the hair. With unkind force, he threw her to the foot of the bed. &ldquo;How could you do that to me?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I&rsquo;m a whore,&rdquo; she said, slowly rising, her rear pointed against him. &ldquo;Not even your whore. You won&rsquo;t do anything about it, cuckold.&rdquo; <br /><br />My breath was caught in my throat. She had called me foul-mouthed. This was hardly my mother. <br /><br />Father sneered a defeated grimace. &ldquo;Hell take you.&rdquo; He approached her, and with little care, he thrusted his cock into her. &ldquo;God. I feel it. You&rsquo;re wet. Like he was just inside you.&rdquo; She whinnied, spurred on by the words. <br /><br />I bit down. That was my cum he felt. The thought surged through me. <br /><br />&ldquo;Is that all?&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Half the farmhands do better.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Oh God. How many of them?&rdquo; He didn&rsquo;t slow down. <br /><br />&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve lost count,&rdquo; she said matter-of-factly. &ldquo;When they knock on my door... I think nothing of it. My mouth. My cunt. My rear. I let them decide. When you kiss me... You taste their cum.&rdquo; <br /><br />More than two? Had she been honest with me? Was she honest now? <br /><br />&ldquo;You filthy... rotten sow.&rdquo; His fury weakened. &ldquo;At least... let me have your rear. Let me be where they&rsquo;ve been.&rdquo; <br /><br />She snorted. &ldquo;You ask me? Pathetic. Be a man.&rdquo; <br /><br />He pulled out of her. He took aim, near her tail, and leaned against her. She squealed in soft pain, yet pushed back against him, her tail waving an invitation. He reclaimed his fury, and the bed shook around me, the floorboards creaking dangerously.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />With her cheek against the sheets, she looked back. &ldquo;Did Roxanne let you do this?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;No,&rdquo; he hissed. &ldquo;Only you.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Tell me I&rsquo;m better than her.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;You... You&rsquo;re... I love you. With all my heart. You&rsquo;re better.&rdquo; His ears pressed down in a painfully honest gesture. <br /><br />&ldquo;Good. Now cum up my worn-out whore hole, love.&rdquo; <br /><br />I shook against the floor in utter disbelief. <br /><br />My father diligently obeyed, pushing against her with his last fury. His tail bristled. Their gasping unified into a limping gallop. They shook, and I thought I heard the cum drip onto the sheets. After reveling in the satisfied sighs, she pulled away from him. She crawled to him and pulled him under the sheets. They positioned themselves in each other&rsquo;s arms. The breathing steadied into calm whispers. <br /><br />&ldquo;That was...&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;That was incredible.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Thank you.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;What you said. All the farmhands. You were just... Pretending, right?&rdquo; <br /><br />She hesitated. &ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t fuck all the farmhands. But sober up... Then think of what Achilles said. And then decide if you want to be angry. By my count... We&rsquo;re even.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Right... I. Right.&rdquo; <br /><br />I almost snickered. Even. By my count, father had a few more to go to get even. But I wondered if that was the thought he would latch on to. It seemed likely... That he might instead fixate on her habits. The way I did. Part of me found it off-putting. Revolting. My father was a weak man.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />I breathed, almost sighing, sending dust flying. I was forced to wait. Would I need to lie still until morning? What would father think if he found out that she had cheated with me? <br /><br />I saw no other choice. I lay still. Father&rsquo;s breathing became heavy, as he fell asleep. Finally, after what felt like a day, mother moved. She rose and stepped to the door, opening it. In the weak light, she made an outwards wave with her hand. <br /><br />I understood. As swiftly as I could without making noise, I crawled towards her. In the doorframe I rose. Together we made our way down the stairs. <br /><br />In the kitchen, she put a hand on my shoulder and whispered. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m sorry that you heard that. You&rsquo;re still young. I&rsquo;m not... I&rsquo;m not like that.&rdquo; <br /><br />But you are. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s alright. I don&rsquo;t mind. But... Now I&rsquo;m jealous again.&rdquo; The things father had done. I could do them too. I wondered what else she could do that Roxanne couldn&rsquo;t. <br /><br />She nodded with a defeated look. &ldquo;I need to stop making mistakes... But I guess I can&rsquo;t. Go to your room. Sober up. Tomorrow, let me know if you want the rest of the cowboy story.&rdquo; <br /><br />I nodded, wondering if she meant that we would do it all again. With my luck, we might just. Parisa circled my neck in pride. I leaned forward and kissed my mother on the lips. Her whiskers flicked in surprise. She stood with a dizzy look as I grinned back and walked into the hall, towards my room. <br /><br />&nbsp;<br /><br />22. <br /><br />It was a bright, cloudless day, and mother and I were setting up for breakfast outside. Father was picking blackberries downhill, whistling to himself. <br /><br />Mercedes burst out the door and spun around herself, hair tail a ribbon about her. Her skirts soared. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s the High Summer Festival, hey-ho!&rdquo; She sang with a faultless voice. She skipped to mother and embraced her. &ldquo;Hey-ho, it&rsquo;s today!&rdquo; She slid on, clapping her hands. She stopped at my side and kissed me on the head. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s the High Summer Festival, hey-ho!&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;My...&rdquo; I said, my heart fluttering. &ldquo;I sure wish I knew what day it is today.&rdquo; She had gone on about it all week. <br /><br />&ldquo;It&rsquo;s the High Summer Festival, silly,&rdquo; she said, ruffling my hair. <br /><br />&ldquo;Lively as ever,&rdquo; mother said. &ldquo;Is Henry picking you up? Will you not have time for breakfast?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;That&rsquo;s right! I saw the carriage from the window. Any moment now.&rdquo; She sat down by the table and closed her eyes with a serene sigh. Her hair, braided with pink bows, fell into a glistening frame about her face. <br /><br />I sat down beside her. I tried to look away, remaining aloof and secretive. But I had to see her. Could she feel it? The growing confidence? <br /><br />Yesterday... I had been a right hero. Mother had slept in, and father had gone to work early. I slipped into their room. I crawled under the sheets and cuddled up behind mother. She moaned, as if waking from a soft dream. With my hands on her breasts, I whispered in her ear, asking if I could stick my cock up her ass. She mumbled deliriously, then managed to form a confused alright. She lifted her tail. I felt with my fingers, marveling at the sleek clench of the new hole. Impatiently I pushed my cock inside. As I humped, I felt only vague guilt at her strained hisses. I finished with just my tip inside, her reflexive clenching sending tremors through me. As I pulled out, cum kept pouring, sticking to the fur of her cheeks in curtains. I had leaned into her ear, whispered that I loved her, then snuck out as easily as I had come in. <br /><br />Then, in the evening. I had found Nina bathing in the river. She squealed when I snuck up on her in the water, then turned to slap me. I wasn&rsquo;t discouraged. When I asked her to let me fuck her ass, she turned up her nose. Then when I called her mommy, she sighed, looked about her, and dragged me behind the cover of rocks. I held on to her bushy tail as I entered. Her chubby frame was almost softer than mother&rsquo;s. She didn&rsquo;t hiss in pain. I suspected she was used to it. I finished deep inside. Afterwards, she had shooed me away, as if bathing with me was somehow still embarrassing. <br /><br />The memories burned bright. But I wasn&rsquo;t satisfied. I liked Nina. I loved mother. Being in love was something else.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />&ldquo;What are you staring at?&rdquo; Mercedes said, ever with her smile, drawing her gaze from the approaching carriage. <br /><br />I shook my head, trying to gather myself. &ldquo;Uh,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;Nothing. You had a fly in your hair.&rdquo; <br /><br />She made wide eyes. &ldquo;Ew.&rdquo; She shook her head, batting her ears. The bows in her hair tossed with her braids. <br /><br />For all the fucking I had done, unpunished, I couldn&rsquo;t bring myself to say aloud that whatever she did, it made me feel warm inside. Even the annoying hey-ho rolling off her tongue. <br /><br />The carriage stopped. At the reins sat the coachman, a bunny I had seen on the neighboring farm. Mercedes rose and took long steps towards him, almost angry. &ldquo;Why are you alone? Where is Henry?&rdquo; <br /><br />The coachman shrugged with sincere regret. &ldquo;Henry is sick. Sore throat, dizzy. He said you wouldn&rsquo;t miss the festival for the world, so he sent me anyway.&rdquo; <br /><br />She put her hands to her mouth, as if Henry had died. &ldquo;No. Say it isn&rsquo;t so.&rdquo; <br /><br />He nodded and shrugged again. &ldquo;Do you want to come or not? I can fit four in here.&rdquo; <br /><br />She turned, showing her wet eyes to me and mother. &ldquo;Please, I can&rsquo;t go alone, it&rsquo;ll be so dull.&rdquo; <br /><br />Mother folded her hands with an apologetic frown. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m sorry. Father needs to tend to the vermin in the grain. I need to prepare for the mayor&rsquo;s visit tomorrow.&rdquo; <br /><br />I hadn&rsquo;t seen any vermin. I wondered if them staying behind had something to do with a talk I had seen mother have with Trick. A farmhand who never talked if he could help it. But that was just my imagination running away with me. <br /><br />I had kicked and screamed last year, when Mercedes wanted me to go, so when she looked at me, it seemed she had already given up. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll go,&rdquo; I said, somehow not giving away that there was nothing I wanted more. <br /><br />Her smile was worth it. She spun on the spot, clapped her hands and then lifted me off the ground in her embrace. <br /><br />&nbsp;<br /><br />23. <br /><br />We were dropped off at the edge of New Herring, the town we called ours. The streets were decorated with flower wreaths and every corner smelled of honey-roasted delicacies. The coachman, named Ruben, took off, assuring us he would pick us up in the afternoon, about when the sun crossed the tip of the town hall&rsquo;s tower. <br /><br />Mercedes took my hand and dragged me along. I could hardly muster interest in the scarfs, the earrings, and the carved wood figurines, but I told her it looked good, whenever she wore or held up something. When she drew out father&rsquo;s wallet, the shopkeepers perked up, closing in, trying to sell her anything and everything. <br /><br />She bought a sky-blue hairband and two glazed apples on sticks. She passed me one, and we went on, reaching the marketplace, where performers were dancing among the festival goers. There were acrobats standing on each other&rsquo;s shoulders. <br /><br />I stopped at an alcove, where two musicians were playing. A wolf on violin and a hind on accordion. Though the hind was light-brown, her pony-tail reminded me of Parisa. She sang as she played. <br /><br />&ldquo;Daytime to nighttime, I sit on the hill, gazing upon the horizon until, my long-lost love decides it is time, to sail on the waves back into my life.&rdquo; <br /><br />I stood, mesmerized by her speed in working the keys, while undistracted in her dreaming voice. Mercedes placed her hands on my shoulders from behind. I held my breath as she held me, swaying from side to side in time with the music. <br /><br />It seemed we had arrived late in the performance, and it was over too soon. The two bowed to the crowd to a modest applause. The fox went around, holding out a hat, and the hind packed their instruments down. <br /><br />&ldquo;How delightful,&rdquo; Mercedes said, humming with delirious bliss. &ldquo;See, it&rsquo;s not so bad here.&rdquo; <br /><br />Her breasts were pushed into my back. &ldquo;No, it&rsquo;s not.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Next, we go pay for some warm baths...&rdquo; She delved into her purse. Her hand searched. She hesitated. &ldquo;Father&rsquo;s wallet... It&rsquo;s gone.&rdquo; She kept desperately checking the bag&rsquo;s corners, before finally giving up. She looked to the surrounding crowd, as if to see who could have taken it, but no one was nearby. We wouldn&rsquo;t recover it. She folded her hands before her, standing frozen. &ldquo;There was... almost twenty dollars in there.&rdquo; <br /><br />I sighed, putting my arm around her. &ldquo;It&rsquo;ll be fine. Father can&rsquo;t get mad at you. You&rsquo;re his little angel.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;It&rsquo;s just... I&rsquo;m just so... disappointed in myself.&rdquo; She sniveled. &ldquo;This was supposed to be the best day. First Henry is sick...&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;It&rsquo;s still going to be a great day,&rdquo; I said, squeezing her. <br /><br />&ldquo;Everything costs money.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Not everything.&rdquo; I lifted a bag out of my pocket. A selection of roasted nuts. <br /><br />She took it, holding it up to her nose, her whiskers stretching at the savory smell. She suddenly frowned. &ldquo;Did you steal this?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;No, I promise.&rdquo; I had indeed stolen it. <br /><br />She scowled gently, but didn&rsquo;t say further. She ate as we walked up the street. <br /><br />&ldquo;Down here,&rdquo; I said, pointing down a damp alley, where I saw green hills at the far end. <br /><br />She looked about her, not usually one for leaving the crowd. &ldquo;Oh, alright.&rdquo; She waved off the people, as if wanting to make it clear that they had scorned her. I took her hand, and we went into the shadows. We entered flowery gardens, where deep and wide discs of hibiscus spread among the weeds. She folded her hands on her chest in awe, looking up at the church tower. &ldquo;The Chapel Gardens. I don&rsquo;t come here enough.&rdquo; <br /><br />Afraid that she would balk at the swarming dragonflies, I pulled her along regardless. We went downhill, to where a pond of water was sheltered by a golden canopy of the hanging flower chains of laburnum. <br /><br />She let herself fall onto her side in the grass, where she could dip her fingertips in the water, watching the rings spread. <br /><br />I picked the largest of the deep-red hibiscus, one looking sculpted from glass. I dropped into the grass beside her and tucked it beneath her hair band. She closed her eyes, self-satisfied.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />She reached out to embrace me. &ldquo;Oh, Dalton. Of all the things I will miss when I move away. You, I will miss the most.&rdquo; <br /><br />There was barely a month left. I embraced her back. &ldquo;Why do you have to go?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Because I love Henry. And because that&rsquo;s the way of life. I will still come visit. Next festival... We&rsquo;ll be together all of us.&rdquo; <br /><br />Surely, she didn&rsquo;t mean I would have to wait until next summer. Should I tell her? That her leaving meant I would feel empty. That I couldn&rsquo;t see some other girl filling that void. It wouldn&rsquo;t help. Mercedes was not like mother. She would rather see the world than me. <br /><br />With wet eyes, I buried my nose in the ruff of her neck. <br /><br />&ldquo;Dalton,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;It&rsquo;ll be alright.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I stole the nuts,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m sorry.&rdquo; <br /><br />She made a sound between a sigh and a laugh. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re a right little outlaw, aren&rsquo;t you?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Father would be disappointed in me. He&rsquo;d say that God hates me.&rdquo; For a lot more than the nuts. <br /><br />&ldquo;I&rsquo;m little different...&rdquo; she said, looking away. &ldquo;Dalton. If you were to marry a girl. Some day. Do you like to think she would be... untouched.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;A virgin?&rdquo; I knew she wasn&rsquo;t. I didn&rsquo;t care. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know. That&rsquo;s just what father says, isn&rsquo;t it. But father is an idiot. Did you know... In Eamington. He was with a fox. I heard him apologizing to mother.&rdquo; <br /><br />She put a hand to her mouth. &ldquo;He didn&rsquo;t.&quot; Then she shook her head, smiling, as if it wasn&rsquo;t such a hard thought to align with. &ldquo;He and mother both. What a home.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Whatever you think you did,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t feel guilty.&rdquo; <br /><br />She put a hand to my cheek. &ldquo;Thank you.&rdquo; <br /><br />Our gazes locked. The flower shone from her, and I swore that if she willed it, that look could kill me. She leaned close, kissing my cheek. She whispered. &ldquo;If God is to hate me...&rdquo; She kissed my other cheek. &ldquo;Shouldn&rsquo;t it... Be for something done of love? I would rather it be for you.&rdquo;&nbsp;&nbsp; <br /><br />She kissed me on the lips, pressing my cheeks together. <br /><br />My heart crumbled into dust as I leaned against her, meeting her, hoping to say this is the height of all I am, when my words stubbornly refused to do the same. <br /><br />She leaned back, pulling me with her. I rested on her breasts. Any doubt that this was a mere show of kindness vanished, when my tongue entered her mouth without resistance. My cock hardened, and I was sure she could feel it against her side. She didn&rsquo;t pull away. <br /><br />She lifted me from her, meeting my eyes. &ldquo;You... You&rsquo;re quite forward, aren&rsquo;t you?&rdquo; She ran her hand through the fur on my cheek. &ldquo;You know... The next time you sleep in my room. Don&rsquo;t touch yourself next to me. It is quite rude.&rdquo; <br /><br />My heart couldn&rsquo;t beat faster, though it tried. &ldquo;S-&hellip; I&rsquo;m sorry.&rdquo; <br /><br />She kissed my nose. &ldquo;Make it up to me. Make love with me. Not next to me.&rdquo; She pulled up the skirts of her dress. <br /><br />&ldquo;I love you,&rdquo; I said, awkwardly pulling down my pants as I slid between her spread legs. <br /><br />&ldquo;Oh, I love you too,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;But we shouldn&rsquo;t do this, should we?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;If we don&rsquo;t,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;We will regret it forever.&rdquo; I didn&rsquo;t have it in me to stop. <br /><br />Her trembling breath seemed to agree. She pulled me deeper into the tall grass. She hadn&rsquo;t removed her underwear, but I couldn&rsquo;t pull back. It was white and dainty, like her, and I pulled it aside. I looked into her eyes, as I entered her. My body sang. <br /><br />She gasped, as if in pain, but settled into a soft smile. <br /><br />I moved slowly, showing all care I had. It took my all not to shake anxiously. Though I wanted to, I didn&rsquo;t pull down her dress to her see breasts. She would think me rude. My mind filled with doubts and images of her with Achilles. Would she be disappointed I was not as big? Would she wish I could make her moan louder? <br /><br />&ldquo;You treat me like a lady,&rdquo; she said, aiding my motion with a hand in my back. &ldquo;But I&rsquo;m not a lady...&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;You are to me.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Then,&rdquo; she said, her pitch rising. &ldquo;The lady asks you to be a proper outlaw. And treat me like the robber you are.&rdquo; <br /><br />I was taking her before Henry did. She was getting married. I was an outlaw. I got harder at the thought, and she closed her eyes in a drawn-out moan. Outlaws didn&rsquo;t show care. They pillaged. The grass around us fell flat, as we tossed, tongues out, fingers clawing at each other&rsquo;s ruffs. <br /><br />&ldquo;On the wedding night,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;Think of me.&rdquo; <br /><br />She narrowed her eyes at me. I remembered too late that Achilles had almost said the same. <br /><br />&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t take me away from my man,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t doubt you could.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;But you&rsquo;re mine already,&rdquo; I said, forgetting myself. &ldquo;Standing there in your wedding dress. You won&rsquo;t kick me out. He&rsquo;ll wait his turn.&rdquo; I didn&rsquo;t mean to taunt her. But it was her fault for getting me drunk on her. <br /><br />&ldquo;God, if he knew. My brother.&rdquo; She clawed at my hair. &ldquo;I won&rsquo;t kick you out. I&rsquo;ll let you be the guest of honor. It&rsquo;ll be your wedding night too.&rdquo; <br /><br />I snarled in glee. &ldquo;Turn around,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;Tail up.&rdquo; <br /><br />With eager blinking, she nodded. She turned, sleek through the grass. She pushed herself up on one arm. &ldquo;I want to look at you.&rdquo; Lying on her side, she perched out a leg, then pulled up a cheek of her ass by her fingertips. Her tail curled happily. An intoxicating invitation. <br /><br />I slid in. The angle made her clench against me with the weight of a mountain. I reached deeper than I could have dreamed. Her hand grabbed the collar of my shirt and pulled me close. We met in one kiss after the other, pecks of careless affection. I took hold of one of her braids, admiring the bow in my fingers, barely having the gall to pull. <br /><br />I tucked on it, bending her neck. Her mouth hung open, and I felt her breath warm me each time my hips struck her. <br /><br />&ldquo;Mercedes,&rdquo; I said through my teeth. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m about to...&rdquo; <br /><br />She purred happily. &ldquo;Do it wherever you like.&rdquo; <br /><br />Anywhere? Inside? Maybe inside was bad. &ldquo;Get out your tits.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Naughty,&rdquo; she said, pulling down her dress. <br /><br />She cradled her breasts in her arm, lifting them like a tavern whore. The cum started spurting, even before I pulled out. It streaked across her stomach, before I stood up, coating her breasts in burst after burst. It hung in her ruff, sliding down, drawing wet marks on her dress. The shape of her breasts was made for this. <br /><br />She put her fingers to her collar bone, as if in nervous surprise. She breathed in relief and looked at me, smiling. &ldquo;This isn&rsquo;t your first time, is it?&rdquo; she said, leaning in to give my cock a lick. She touched herself between the legs and lifted cum-stained fingers. She sighed. &ldquo;This is too risky... Isn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo; <br /><br />I couldn&rsquo;t focus on her words. My eyes were fixed on a newcomer, who had caught us. A tiny bunny girl with blonde hair who stood up the hill, her arms wrapped defensively about her. She pointed at my cock, hovering before Mercedes&rsquo; mouth, still dripping on her tits. <br /><br />&ldquo;Ewwww,&rdquo; the girl called. &ldquo;Ew ew ew. Mommy!&rdquo; she turned and ran. <br /><br />Me and Mercedes looked at each other with wide eyes. We rose, dressed ourselves as fast as possible and darted the opposite way out of the garden, almost tripping more than once. We delved down a damp alley and suddenly stood among festival goers, who were oblivious to our rapid breaths. <br /><br />Our eyes met, and I could feel reality closing in. As if we were getting sober. <br /><br />She straightened her back and loosened her shoulders. She lifted her nose and evened out the creases in her dress. If not for the cum pooling in her cleavage, no one would ever know. <br /><br />&ldquo;That was...&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Not smart.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;We&rsquo;ll be fine,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;Everything will be fine.&rdquo; <br /><br />She nodded, steadying her breath. &ldquo;Right.&rdquo; <br /><br />We went to a tavern and asked to borrow the water pump and a few rags, in exchange for me cleaning a stack of dishes. In the backyard, we cleaned up Mercedes. Inside, the barkeep gave us a few odd looks, but we acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary. <br /><br />When Ruben rolled in with the carriage in the afternoon, we stood diligently waiting. <br /><br />On the ride home we were quiet. Mercedes held my hand, as if she was afraid of letting go. The warmth in me kept burning. When I lay my head on her shoulder and she leaned back, I did believe things would be alright. I had purged Achilles from my home in entirety. And I felt older and stronger than I had any right to. <br /><br />&nbsp;<br /><br />24.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />As expected, father forgave Mercedes for losing the wallet nearly instantly. He almost managed to spin it to being my fault, for not keeping watch for pickpockets. <br /><br />The following day, the mayor, his wife, and their ugly daughter came to visit. Chubby cats who shed wads of fur all over the estate. The mayor limped in on his healing leg. <br /><br />As there was talk of the bandits roaming the roads to the south, we ate a grand spread of steamed vegetables. By my side, mother wrapped her tail around mine. She slid her hand over my thigh. In front of me, Mercedes reached out her leg and scratched my ankle with affection. With tight lips, I kept my composure. Neither knew of the other. I wondered when the jig would be up. I had believed Achilles when he had said things like these came back to bite you. For now... The glow of confidence was worth dragging it out a little longer.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />It turned out that others were the ones in dire need of a lesson in covertness. <br /><br />A month came and went. The wedding was a week away. The wedding dress was finished and had just been delivered by Henry, who insisted more than once that he hadn&rsquo;t looked at it. That he wanted seeing it on her to be a surprise. Mercedes fanned her face, as if flustered. They leaned against each other, barely touching in a kiss. She waved after him, as the carriage left, taking him back to the storm of wedding preparations. <br /><br />She and I were alone in the dining room. Mother and father were sorting out papers in the study. I watched with tense muscles as she undressed. I wondered if it was simply her nature to cover her breasts, though I had been indecently close to them. I had sucked on them. <br /><br />She pulled on her new dress, somehow whiter than her. I helped her close the bodice. She tossed her hair and spun on the spot, lifting the skirts. Her free tail caressed the floral patterns and falls. A big bow at the base of her tail was like a touch from God. <br /><br />&ldquo;How do you like it?&rdquo; she asked. &ldquo;Am I a beautiful bride?&rdquo; Her hand slid down her stomach, and she glanced down with a dreaming sigh. <br /><br />&ldquo;I have no words.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;That&rsquo;s cheap,&rdquo; she said, sticking her tongue out in mock. &ldquo;Henry would have words.&rdquo; <br /><br />I leaned on my palm. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re like a flower from the Garden of Eden.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t overdo it.&rdquo; <br /><br />I rolled my eyes. &ldquo;Then why don&rsquo;t you marry h&ndash;&hellip;&quot; <br /><br />I was cut off by the sound of steps on the floor above. Mercedes&rsquo; eyes met mine, and we held our breaths in mutual understanding. This had happened too much. There were the dainty steps of mother. The heavy steps of father. And another set of heavy steps. The dog Trick by my best estimate. <br /><br />There were sounds of clothes thrown. Sounds of knees hitting the floor. Sounds of a creaking bed. <br /><br />&ldquo;Are you ready...&rdquo; mother said, her voice far away but clear. &ldquo;For your dear wife to be taken?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;No, please, dear,&rdquo; father said with a begging voice I couldn&rsquo;t feel was sincere. &ldquo;You can&rsquo;t. We&rsquo;re married. You promised.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Well, you promised not to be a limp pig. You&rsquo;ve made your bed.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I swear it, Eloise. I will never see another woman again.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Too little too late, little man. You&rsquo;re never touching my cunt again. You can raise a dog&rsquo;s babies, and you will like it.&rdquo; <br /><br />That made me sure it was Trick. The bed creaked again, and the sound of uneven gasps started rising. I pictured it. The dog was shoving his cock into her on the bed, while father was on his knees, begging, as if he didn&rsquo;t want his wife fucked. He would start touching himself any moment. <br /><br />As the uncouth exchange continued, each line ripe with more nauseating words, Mercedes sighed and slid into the chair at my side. <br /><br />&ldquo;God,&rdquo; she said, leaning on her elbows. &ldquo;We have to tell them that we can hear them... eventually, right?&rdquo; <br /><br />I pointed up. &ldquo;After that?&rdquo; I rolled my eyes. &ldquo;I wouldn&rsquo;t dare. You do it. Let me know if they die on the spot from embarrassment.&rdquo; <br /><br />Mother squealed. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s it. I&rsquo;m dog food, Cole. I can&rsquo;t go back.&rdquo; <br /><br />Father gasped, his voice weak and wavering. &ldquo;I still love you.&rdquo;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />Trick didn&rsquo;t have anything to add to the exchange. <br /><br />The first time, Mercedes had palmed my ears again, leading me out. Then she had felt silly. Now, her eyes were filled with curious wonder. &ldquo;Is that really arousing to men? Watching your woman making love to someone else in front of you?&rdquo; <br /><br />I had the sense that it wasn&rsquo;t a popular activity. But having done it more than once, it seemed my cock was used to getting hard. &ldquo;Eh. It&rsquo;s alright. I think I like doing it myself more.&rdquo; <br /><br />She giggled, leaning her shoulder against mine. &ldquo;What if your girl likes it?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;That...&rdquo; I said, sensing some sort of trap. &ldquo;Would mean that a girl would have to be mine first. That sounds alright.&rdquo; It was hard be clever, distracted by the noises above us. <br /><br />She retracted with her soft smile and shrugged. &ldquo;You know, if you&rsquo;re going to be in the room on our wedding night... You&rsquo;ll have to watch Henry.&rdquo; <br /><br />I knew that. &ldquo;Henry is alright. I&rsquo;ve seen worse.&rdquo; I was waiting for her to guess that I had seen her with Achilles. <br /><br />She narrowed her eyes and bared her teeth in a grin. &ldquo;What a thought. It is... exciting.&rdquo; She rolled her shoulders with the sound of a pleased shiver and batted her tail. &ldquo;It makes my stomach go woosh.&rdquo; She looked at me. &ldquo;What?&rdquo; <br /><br />I had been staring. &ldquo;Your smile. It makes me go woosh. It makes my cock hard.&rdquo; <br /><br />She slapped me, and I sat back bewildered. She brought her hands to her mouth in a gasp. &ldquo;Sorry! I didn&rsquo;t mean to...&rdquo; She leaned in, grabbing me by the cheeks, and put her lips to mine. <br /><br />&ldquo;It&rsquo;s fine,&rdquo; I said, as she rested her head atop mine. <br /><br />&ldquo;So,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;How... Just how will I sneak you in on our wedding night?&rdquo; <br /><br />I had done enough sneaking that I was confident I could succeed. &ldquo;Might be... something like this.&rdquo; I got up and took her hand, pulling her from the chair. I dropped to my knees. <br /><br />&ldquo;What are we...?&rdquo; She gasped when I lifted her skirts from behind and crawled in between her legs. &ldquo;Dalton.&rdquo; Her hips pressed into the edge of the table. <br /><br />I shushed her. I felt caught in a cloud as the white of her dress shone around me. I pulled her underwear down. This was a view. I ran my hands up the insides of her thighs, making her fur stand on end. <br /><br />&ldquo;Not in here,&rdquo; she said, her voice threatening to break when my hands reached her rear. She didn&rsquo;t stop me. <br /><br />To the muffled noise of our parents not fucking upstairs, I stuck my tongue out and pressed it against her cunt. Her tail stood up, tense and happy. At my lapping, she wettened rapidly, and my whiskers soon dripped. <br /><br />Upstairs, mother snarled in pleasure. &ldquo;Clean it, cuckold. Taste his seed in me.&rdquo; There was muffled moaning. <br /><br />&ldquo;I think...&rdquo; Trick said almost timidly, finally breaking his silence. &ldquo;I think I&rsquo;m going to go.&rdquo; <br /><br />They didn&rsquo;t answer him. A door opened and closed, and we heard Trick on the stairs. <br /><br />Mercedes hissed. &ldquo;They&rsquo;ll be done soon.&rdquo; <br /><br />I didn&rsquo;t answer. I put my tongue in deeper by each run. Finally, I slid it all the way to her tail, tasting the other hole. It was bitter. But it was her, Mercedes, the Eden flower. I could lick until I fainted with exhaustion. Her shaking peaked. I recognized it as her orgasm. The hole tensed around my tongue. I pushed in further, and I grasped my crotch, almost finishing as well. <br /><br />&ldquo;Dalton,&rdquo; she said, wholly shivering. &ldquo;I think you need to... Stop. We&rsquo;ll be f&ndash;&hellip;&quot; She quieted at the sound of the door from the hall opening. I kept licking. <br /><br />&ldquo;Mercedes,&rdquo; mother said, dragging the name out with stunned reverence. &ldquo;Your dress is beautiful.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Th&ndash;&hellip; Thank you, mother.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Wasn&rsquo;t Dalton with you? If you see him, could you tell him dinner is served within the hour? If you set the table, I&rsquo;ll fetch the sourdough.&rdquo; <br /><br />My fingers gripped at Mercedes&rsquo; thighs as I kissed her ass. She huffed wistfully. &ldquo;Yes. I will... Yes.&rdquo; <br /><br />Mother seemed to pause. &ldquo;Good. I&rsquo;ll get to it.&rdquo; <br /><br />The moment after the door closed, Mercedes kicked my side. I crawled out with a wide smirk, though I expected another slap. Instead, she only sighed and smiled as she pulled up her underwear. <br /><br />&nbsp;<br /><br />25.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />Mercedes changed out of her wedding dress. Dinner was served. A swift prayer later, we were all four eating. Mother and father pecked each other, sharing flirtatious chuckles that put all other nausea I&rsquo;d felt to shame. After whispering, they finally seemed to reach some sort of agreement. <br /><br />Mother straightened her back and looked to Mercedes and me. &ldquo;Your father and I have some wonderful news to share. Dalton. Mercedes. I am with child. You&rsquo;re going to have a little brother or sister.&rdquo; She smiled, wide and impossibly unconcerned. <br /><br />Mercedes spat out her drink. I got a piece of bread stuck in my throat and started hammering my chest to give myself air. <br /><br />Mother and father looked mortified as we composed ourselves. <br /><br />Mercedes cleared her throat. &ldquo;That is... That is great news.&rdquo; She looked to father. &ldquo;Uh. Is... Are you the... Father?&rdquo; <br /><br />I gaped at her audacity. As did mother and father. <br /><br />&ldquo;What in...&rdquo; Father gestured with his hands. &ldquo;How could you even... insinuate!&rdquo; <br /><br />She rolled her hand, attempting to start a sentence more than once. &ldquo;Um. You know with the whole... Farmhands sneaking into your bedroom.&rdquo; <br /><br />Mother and father briefly looked to one another. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know what silly daydreams you&rsquo;ve been having,&rdquo; mother said. &ldquo;But I can assure you. In this family... by God&rsquo;s word. The bedroom is sacred.&rdquo; <br /><br />Mercedes snickered blatantly.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />&ldquo;Young lady,&rdquo; father said. &ldquo;You will behave. You have a wedding coming up. And my word, I expect you to make your family proud.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;My wedding,&rdquo; she said, releasing a defeated sigh. &ldquo;My perfect wedding. With wine from Italy and cakes baked by the nuns of Sebastian&rsquo;s Chapel. My wedding.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Henry&rsquo;s family has poured a fortune into the project.&rdquo; Father pointed his fork at her. &ldquo;That is a feat worthy of respect.&rdquo; <br /><br />She closed her eyes. She emptied her lungs in a long, meditative sound, as if meaning to expel something in her. &ldquo;Father,&rdquo; she opened her eyes. &ldquo;I am with child too. And Henry is not the father.&rdquo; <br /><br />I dropped my fork. All emotion vanished from mother&rsquo;s face. <br /><br />Father spread his hands, grasping powerlessly at the air. &ldquo;Mercedes.&rdquo; He made fists against the table, stuttering like a child. &ldquo;For shame! Say it isn&rsquo;t so.&rdquo; <br /><br />As he shook his head, not able to make sense of it, I looked at her. She wasn&rsquo;t crumbling in shame. She sat with a straight back. She almost smiled. <br /><br />&ldquo;It&rsquo;s true,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m late. I threw up this morning.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;No,&rdquo; father said, pulling at his hair. &ldquo;We cannot call off the wedding. We will look like fools. We will be shunned! You have ruined us.&rdquo; He pointed at her, before shaking his finger to himself. &ldquo;Wait. Wait. You have to... You must! Talk to Henry. You will have to break the poor boy&rsquo;s heart... But if you can agree to pretend it is his... Then you will have been guilty of no more than premarital sex. Oh lord.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;What,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;You don&rsquo;t think Henry also likes the thought of being a cuckold, like you?&rdquo; <br /><br />Father closed his eyes. He grabbed his ears and hummed deliriously, as if wanting to forget. &ldquo;Please. You don&rsquo;t know what this does to me.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Your little porcelain doll carrying the wrong man&rsquo;s child? What, do you expect me to feel guilty?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Who...&rdquo; mother said. &ldquo;Who is the father? Is it Achilles?&rdquo; <br /><br />Mercedes huffed gently. &ldquo;You wish. More likely it was Dalton. By my count. I only had Achilles once.&rdquo; <br /><br />I shook my head in disbelief. I couldn&rsquo;t stop her. I couldn&rsquo;t leave. There was nothing to do but watch. Mother gave me a disheartened look, her head askew, as if to ask whether it was true. I nodded with a shrug. <br /><br />Father leaned over the table. His humming staggered, turning into a hiss. He grabbed his stomach, as if the ordeal was giving him cramps. He gasped, and we all stared at him as if he were mad. <br /><br />Mercedes laughed. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re touching yourself! You absolute whoremonger. Your own daughter. What does God think of that?&rdquo; <br /><br />Mother quietly giggled a mad sound, hiding behind her cup as she drank. &ldquo;This might be a bad time to mention...&rdquo; She set down the cup and folded her hands in her lap. &ldquo;But mine might be Dalton&rsquo;s too.&rdquo; <br /><br />Father laughed. A slowly rising noise, raspy and deep. He looked out at the three of us, his teeth straining against each other. &ldquo;I... cannot believe it. Our lives out with the bathwater. You like it too, don&rsquo;t you? It gets the devil up in you, to see me squirm.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;You bet it does,&rdquo; Mercedes said, closing her eyes with a satisfied hiss and trembling lips. &ldquo;What are you going to do about it? Touch yourself to the thought of farmhands pouring cum into me?&rdquo; She made a long rolling purr. <br /><br />Father rose. I instinctively pulled my chair back. Mercedes sat solidly in place, though her grin was becoming daring. <br /><br />He grabbed her chin, lifting it. &ldquo;By God. When Henry asked for your hand, I thought you were too good for him. But you&rsquo;re not. You&rsquo;re cheap. I can&rsquo;t let him marry you. The town whore.&rdquo; <br /><br />She batted her eyes at him. &ldquo;And with all that. I&rsquo;m still too good for you.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;God, why oh why did you give me this daughter?&rdquo; <br /><br />She reached out, putting her palm to his crotch. &ldquo;If you&rsquo;re disappointed, then why is your cock this hard?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Lord,&rdquo; father said, his toothy grin wholly betraying all I knew about him. &ldquo;If this punishment is not righteous... Then strike me down where I stand.&rdquo; He grabbed her by the ruff and lifted her off the chair. He swept, sending plates and food crashing onto the floor. He dropped her over the table. <br /><br />She released a drawn-out, shocked gasp. &ldquo;You wouldn&rsquo;t!&rdquo; she said but raised her tail. <br /><br />He pulled up her dress. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s my right.&rdquo; He opened his pants. <br /><br />&ldquo;Father,&rdquo; she said, her voice suddenly weak. &ldquo;Whatever you do. I still love you.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Oh dearest,&rdquo; he said, raising his cock. &ldquo;I love you too.&rdquo; He leaned into her, entering, and within a moment, her gasping harmonized with him. <br /><br />I sat, not believing my eyes. Was this what she had meant when she wanted her stomach to go woosh? Turning father from God? <br /><br />Mother had risen and stood behind me, rubbing my shoulders. I looked up, feeling her breasts above me. &ldquo;Aren&rsquo;t you going to stop them?&rdquo; <br /><br />She sighed. &ldquo;Should I? We&rsquo;re even, he and I. Are we not?&rdquo; <br /><br />I supposed it was true. &ldquo;Are you really pregnant? Is it mine?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know. But I hope it is.&rdquo; She wrapped her arms around me. &ldquo;Do you want to leave them to it? Or are you... excited?&rdquo; <br /><br />I was hard, full of hate and love, my eyes fixed on my father and sister and the table shaking beneath them. &ldquo;She didn&rsquo;t even think about.&rdquo; <br /><br />Mother squeezed, her breasts pushing into my back. &ldquo;Are you jealous?&rdquo; <br /><br />I was more disappointed. Father didn&rsquo;t deserve her. I had worked harder. Suffered longer. &ldquo;She&rsquo;s happy,&rdquo; I said, most of all focused on Mercedes&rsquo; utter disregard for everything as she pushed back on father&rsquo;s cock. <br /><br />&ldquo;Aw,&rdquo; mother said. &ldquo;But what about me? Make me happy.&rdquo; <br /><br />I nodded. Why should we let ourselves be left out? The damage was done. Mother dragged me up. She swept plates aside, more careful than father, and pushed me onto the table. I sat next to Mercedes, her tail close to whipping my face. Mother pulled off my pants and sat down on the chair. She pulled her breasts out of her dress and pushed them together. She stuck out her tongue and drooled on them with careless abandon. She licked my cock from bottom to tip, before enclosing her breasts around it. She smiled as she hugged it, the tip prodding at her ruff. As she swayed, her velvet body sending shivers through me, I almost forgot myself like Mercedes. <br /><br />My eyes met with father&rsquo;s. He didn&rsquo;t disapprove. Or even nod in depraved pride. His gaze was stone-cold determination. <br /><br />Mercedes pushed herself up from the table, arching her back. &ldquo;Dalton,&rdquo; she said, struggling to form the word. &ldquo;Dalton. Your own mother. Do you like her better than me?&rdquo; <br /><br />What an unfair question. <br /><br />&ldquo;Shut up,&rdquo; father said, saving me the trouble of answering. He pulled Mercedes back by the hair. &ldquo;Look at me.&rdquo; <br /><br />She turned to face him. He pushed her into the table, pinning her by her arm and her throat. She lifted her legs to her shoulders. Staring into her eyes, his cock found its way inside her again. Her delighted whine sent jolts through my body. <br /><br />I finished over mother&rsquo;s face, my orgasm drawn out and paralyzing. It spilled onto her breasts, still pressed against me, draining me of my energy. She groaned, tongue hanging limply, as if she was dizzy from the very scent of me. I caressed her by the ear, thankful after all. <br /><br />I pulled onto the table, crawling to Mercedes&rsquo; side. Father was holding her legs high, pressed against his cheeks. Anxious that someone would stop me, I slowly inched over her face. I wanted to see if she would recognize me through the haze. <br /><br />She smiled when she saw me. She stirred every time father&rsquo;s hips hit her but focused on me. <br /><br />&ldquo;Why?&rdquo; I asked faintly. &ldquo;Why did this happen?&rdquo; <br /><br />She simply closed her eyes, as if trying to muster a plea for forgiveness, but unable to find the right words. <br /><br />I felt a wet tongue pressed against my rear, and I gasped like a girl. I glanced back at mother, who perched on a chair had pressed her nose under my tail. She licked, at once careful and insistent, pushing her tongue inside me. The new sensation rippled up my back, and I curled my tail around her head. <br /><br />When she lowered her tongue to my balls and started stroking my once again hardening cock, my mouth hung open. I drooled and before I could stop it, it dripped to Mercedes&rsquo; lips. She opened her mouth in turn and reached up to pull me down by the collar. <br /><br />We met in a kiss, uncontrolled and overwhelmingly wet. <br /><br />We found a rhythm, mother sending shivers into me, and father into Mercedes. My mind reeled as if drunk, and the moments started to slip. Mother couldn&rsquo;t wait and crawled onto the table. I moved into her embrace. I fucked her, legs up, mirroring father and Mercedes. She held Mercedes&rsquo; hand, as if to reassure her. That we were even, all of us. <br /><br />Father finished into Mercedes&rsquo; cunt and pulled out, then spraying over her belly. He held her hip, running his thumb over her fur, as if he could see the swell of pregnancy already. <br /><br />I was sure saw I mother&rsquo;s belly swelling too. I finished, pulling out and pouring all of myself onto it. <br /><br />Our relieved sighs were short-lived. Father was not done. He slapped one of Mercedes&rsquo; breasts dismissively, as if he was tired of her. He went around the table and pushed me away from mother. I slid off the table, almost tripping. <br /><br />On the other side, Mercedes had gotten up, swaying deliriously. She caught my eyes and waved me ahead. <br /><br />Amazed that I still had anything left in me, I went to her and in each other&rsquo;s embrace, we dropped to the floor. Above, mother and father whispered in each other&rsquo;s ears. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re a devil,&rdquo; mother said with a gasp. &ldquo;You love it,&rdquo; father answered. <br /><br />I entered Mercedes, arms wrapped around her, holding on for dear life. I felt father&rsquo;s cum inside her, but I didn&rsquo;t have it in me to care. <br /><br />&ldquo;Sorry,&rdquo; she whispered. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m so sorry. Forgive me. Please forgive me.&rdquo; <br /><br />I bit her neck, pretending for now that I wasn&rsquo;t going to forgive her. Hearing her begging voice made me harder, and I supposed one more sin hardly made a difference.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />The wet slapping resounded in my ears and after what felt like hours, I fell at her side. <br /><br />I held her from behind, as if we were about to fall asleep. I pushed inside her ass and finished there. <br /><br />&ldquo;Naughty,&rdquo; she said, scratching me on my chin, perched over her shoulder. Parisa attempted to materialize beside me, but I blew her away. I didn&rsquo;t need her anymore.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />I would have slept, if I hadn&rsquo;t known that the others would continue without me. So, I kept going, vowing not to be the one to drop first. <br /><br />&nbsp;<br /><br />26. <br /><br />We made up a story for Henry. He was sat down in the dining room, and we wore practiced somber expressions. <br /><br />Mercedes had been raped by Achilles. Stricken by shame, she had only admitted it after he had been fired. She shed a tear, burying her face in her hands. We all took turns embracing her. When she admitted that she was pregnant, Henry cried with her, holding tight enough that I feared he&rsquo;d hurt her. He didn&rsquo;t bat an eye, when she asked him if he still wanted to marry her. Of course, the wedding was still on. How could she doubt it? He would love her no matter what. Even if the child wasn&rsquo;t his. <br /><br />Poor Henry. Unfortunately, the truth wasn&rsquo;t an acceptable alternative. <br /><br />The day finally came, and the four of us were seated in the carriage, driving towards the farm in the deep valley on the other side of the forest, where the wedding would take place. Our backs were straight. The sun was shining, making us sweat in our best clothes. <br /><br />Mercedes smiled in her snow-white dress. We all knew I would visit her on the wedding night. <br /><br />Father&rsquo;s hands were folded in his lap, and I thought I heard him whisper, as if talking to God. Whatever he thought of his family, he had opted against fighting us. Who knew? It might be God would make an exception for us. <br /><br />Mother adjusted my collar and told me I looked gorgeous. <br /><br />Was I? I looked among the trees, watching the crows closely. I wondered what had happened to Achilles. Probably, ours wasn&rsquo;t the first farm where he had left someone pregnant, making people spin stories about rape to cover up their shortcomings. Probably, he was already on to the next one, working to slither into a young daughter&rsquo;s bed. Seeing the world. <br /><br />I thought about his last words to me and got inexplicably afraid. It would all come crashing down. I couldn&rsquo;t understand that I was allowed to sin, without something or someone coming with a pitchfork to spear me. <br /><br />&ldquo;Are you alright?&rdquo; mother asked, touching my shoulder. <br /><br />I steadied my breathing and nodded. &ldquo;Just stomach cramps.&rdquo; <br /><br />A gunshot made us all flinch, turning our heads. The donkeys ahead of us stalled and Ruben clutched the reins with his ears raised. From the woods around us rode in four cloaked men. Two wolves and two pumas.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />Highwaymen. This was it. God had decided against us.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />Three pointed revolvers at us, one a shotgun. The larger of them, a puma with a wide-brimmed hat, stepped down and approached the carriage with his revolver lazily lifted at his side. <br /><br />&ldquo;Ladies and gentlemen,&rdquo; he said, speaking through the stub of a cigar in the corner of his mouth. &ldquo;Please step out.&rdquo; He was scarred across his cheeks and had terrifying pale eyes. <br /><br />&ldquo;Black-Ear Bully,&rdquo; father said as he stepped out as the first of us, hands lifted in submission. &ldquo;You&rsquo;ve sure got a pair on you, roaming these parts. What&rsquo;s the bounty... A thousand dollars?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;More, I should hope. What, you see yourself cashing it? Charming of you.&rdquo; <br /><br />The rest of us followed. Mother held an arm around Mercedes. I tried to look as small as possible. Ruben stumbled off the carriage, shivering audibly. <br /><br />&ldquo;You realize,&rdquo; father said. &ldquo;That you are interrupting... Our way to my daughter&rsquo;s wedding?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;How dastardly of us,&rdquo; Bully said, leaning to get a look at Mercedes. &ldquo;Hats off. That&rsquo;s quite the bride you&lsquo;ve bred on your wife there, sir. Now, I was thinking we&rsquo;d just take your riches. I&rsquo;m sure there are some nice wedding gifts aboard. But we&rsquo;ve a long way to Whitmourne, and we need solace, so why don&rsquo;t I relieve you of her. She looks tender in your wife&rsquo;s arms. Might be we take them both.&rdquo; My heart sank. <br /><br />&ldquo;Bull,&rdquo; the wolf with the shotgun called. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re greedy. You planning to feed them sand in the desert?&rdquo; <br /><br />Bully shrugged. &ldquo;Just the one then.&rdquo; <br /><br />Father snarled. &ldquo;You won&rsquo;t be taking any of them.&rdquo; He leapt forth, aiming a fist at Bully&rsquo;s chin. <br /><br />Bully weaved aside, striking father&rsquo;s temple with an elbow. He kneed father in the stomach twice, then struck his skull with the revolver&rsquo;s hilt. Father sunk to the ground, curled up and groaning. <br /><br />Bully spun the gun in his hand. &ldquo;You absolute idiot. We have guns. Don&rsquo;t force me to kill a father in front of his son.&rdquo; <br /><br />Ruben turned and ran. The wolf leapt off his donkey and struck Ruben with the shotgun&rsquo;s stock. Ruben fell without fight and with the wolf&rsquo;s paw in his back, he lay motionless. <br /><br />&ldquo;Now,&rdquo; Bully said, stepping forward. He tossed the cigar stump aside. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t fight it. It can be painless. Fun even.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Take me,&rdquo; mother said, clutching Mercedes. &ldquo;Let the girl have her wedding.&rdquo; <br /><br />I eyed her, faintly wondering if she imagined it would be anything like her stories. Whether she had hopes she would like it. <br /><br />&ldquo;Nah,&rdquo; Bully said. &ldquo;You look alike. I&rsquo;ll have the younger.&rdquo; <br /><br />Mercedes didn&rsquo;t move as he stepped closer. Her face was still as a lake on a windless day. If not for her wet eyes, I would have thought she had fainted where she stood. <br /><br />They couldn&rsquo;t have her. My idea wasn&rsquo;t great, but it was an idea still. &ldquo;What about me?&rdquo; I said, taking long steps. I placed myself between them. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll come with you, if you leave my sister.&rdquo; <br /><br />Bully glanced at his men, and they all chucked. He hissed. &ldquo;Why would I want you, you piss-stain. I&rsquo;m sure you think we&rsquo;ll take anything up the arse, and I&rsquo;m sure you&rsquo;re tight as a nun, but if you think you can take my eyes off the lady, go fuck yourself.&rdquo; <br /><br />I put forth my chest. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll learn to shoot. I&rsquo;ll rob trains, lasso the lawmen for you. But leave my sister alone.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;No, Dalton,&rdquo; mother whispered. <br /><br />Bully shrugged. &ldquo;How old are you? Ever hold a gun?&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Fourteen,&rdquo; I lied. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll be more than some hole to fuck. I&rsquo;ll make you a lot of money.&rdquo; <br /><br />He stepped closer, the shade of his hat falling on me. He looked down on me. &ldquo;All fourteen-year-olds think they can shoot like God almighty, next thing, they&rsquo;re shitting themselves at the gallows, and you can bet your tail that I won&rsquo;t be there to cut the rope.&rdquo; <br /><br />I stood on my toes, baring my teeth. My heartbeat was threatening to kill me where I stood. &ldquo;If you take her, kill me here, or I will... hunt. You. Down. I will fuck you. I will skewer your head on a stick.&rdquo; <br /><br />He narrowed his eyes in fury. Then he smiled, a grimace widening into a bellowing grin, resounding into the woods. &ldquo;Hear that?&rdquo; He pointed to me, looking at his men. &ldquo;This little prick has got heavier nuts than any of you.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Bull,&rdquo; the wolf said with an impatient sigh. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re not considering it.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll damn well consider anything I damn well please, you imbecile.&rdquo; Bully shoved the barrel of his gun against my nose. &ldquo;Each time you miss a shot, kid... I&rsquo;ll dress you up like your sister and fuck you. Understood?&rdquo; <br /><br />I nodded frantically. <br /><br />&ldquo;Good.&rdquo; Bully waved his men ahead. The rest dismounted. One pointed his gun at father who had made a move to get off the ground. Bully and the other wolf started looting the carriage. <br /><br />Mother seized the opportunity to embrace me. &ldquo;What are you doing?&rdquo; she said, as if meaning to scold me. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t be stupid.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;They didn&rsquo;t want you.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;My wedding,&rdquo; Mercedes said, shaking her head confused. &ldquo;You won&rsquo;t be... at my wedding.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;I&rsquo;m sorry,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;Forgive me.&rdquo; <br /><br />&ldquo;Enough with that,&rdquo; Bully said, striking my ear with a flat hand. He grabbed my neck skin and pulled me along. Before I knew it, I had been tossed into his donkey&rsquo;s saddle. He leapt up behind me. He smelled of cigars and gunpowder, and I instantly regretted my decision. My eyes became wet, and it took my all not to sob. <br /><br />The three others rode to his side. He nodded to them. &ldquo;Good run. Ride.&rdquo; <br /><br />I leaned to the side, glancing back as we rode off. <br /><br />Father and Ruben were rising. Mother and Mercedes held each other. <br /><br />Mercedes raised a hand, waving a farewell. I couldn&rsquo;t bear to look. I stared ahead, trying to think of why I had done it. To save Mercedes? Sure. <br /><br />But mostly? Mostly I wanted to see the world. <br /><br />&nbsp;<br /><br />&nbsp;<br /><br />&nbsp;<br /><br />&nbsp;<br /><br />Index. <br /><br />&nbsp;<br /><br />1. Introduction. <br /><br />2. Banter between Eloise and Achilles. <br /><br />3. Banter between Mercedes and Dalton. <br /><br />4. Nina teaches Dalton. <br /><br />5. Dalton and Cole fix a fence. <br /><br />6. Cole leaves on a side quest. <br /><br />7. Achilles, Trick, Mercedes, and Eloise play hearts. <br /><br />8. Achilles, Trick, and Nina have sex in the barn. <br /><br />9. Dalton has a sexual awakening at the morning table. <br /><br />10. Achilles trips Dalton, and Eloise rewards him with sex. <br /><br />11. Dalton, Mercedes, Henry, Achilles, and Eloise have dinner. Eloise and Achilles have sex upstairs. <br /><br />12. Dalton sleeps in Mercedes&#039; room and ejaculates on her. <br /><br />13. Mercedes gives Henry a hand job by the river. <br /><br />14. Mercedes banters with Achilles. <br /><br />15. Achilles deflowers Mercedes. <br /><br />16. Cole returns from his side quest. Achilles is fired and confesses to Cole. <br /><br />17. Dalton dreams that he has sex with an angel he dubs Parisa. <br /><br />18. Nina deflowers Dalton. <br /><br />19. Birthday party. Nina gives Dalton a blowjob. <br /><br />20. Cowboy hat gets mended, and Eloise is shocked that Dalton wants sex. <br /><br />21. Dalton and Eloise have sex. From under the bed, he hears Cole and Eloise have sex.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />22. Mercedes and Dalton leave for a festival. Dalton has flashback to anal sex with Eloise, then Nina. <br /><br />23. Mercedes and Dalton have sex. Young bunny girl catches them engaging in bukkake. <br /><br />24. Dalton licks Mercedes beneath her wedding dress. Cole, Eloise, and Trick have sex upstairs.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /><br />25. A fateful dinner with confessions. Everyone has sex. <br /><br />26. Coda.</span>",
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