1 comments/ 10051 views/ 1 favorites Country Girl By: Inosolan Hi there, mister. Oh, sorry -- didn't mean to startle you. No, I know; I don't make much noise and I came up behind you unexpected like. My bad. Nice camper; you traveling? Oh; I wish I could do that. Just get in a camper and travel all over the country till I found a place to rest. Lots of places I never been to I'd go, let me tell you. Me? No, I never been more than a hundred miles from home since I was born. It's boring, let me tell you. Same old people, same old trees... Well, sure -- I guess I'm still young; maybe you're right and I'll get to move on some day. Need to find the right man, though... Oh, hey -- wasn't meaning anything particular by that; sorry if I startled you... I meant I can't drive, I'd need someone to drive for me. Learn to drive? No -- I couldn't do that; can't take the test, got a kind of problem with my records that's too hard to explain or straighten out so I just walk most places... not like I'm going anywhere, much, anytime, anyway... Sorry -- I get a little bitter sometimes. Nah. So -- where you from originally? Chicago? I hear it's a nice place. My brother was stationed at Great Lakes during the war. Korea, that is; he was too young for the World War. Say -- I hate to ask -- you got anything to drink with you? Soda pop, even cold water... Oh, heck no -- I wouldn't mind a cold beer at all, if that's what ya got. I love these pull tops -- i still remember when you hadda use a "church key" to open the can. Yeah, I s'pose I am maybe a bit older than I look. What's a camper like this like inside? Well, no, I wasn't hinting, but if you don't mind...? Whoof. Bit of a step up there for someone who usually has her feet on the ground. Neat. a little dining table. Mind if I sit down for a minute? This is really nice; a sink and a stove and bunk beds and everything. Not that it's any of my business, but what're you doing 'round here? Pretty much a backwater since the mill shut down; the motion picture show closed years ago... Not a lot to do. Plannin' to settle, huh? Whereabouts? Here? Well, yeah... I know it's available, what with Johnny Hanford dying down there in South America somewhere and his family wanting to get shut of the place, but... Didn't you wonder why nobody's built a house or cleared and farmed it? It's twenty years or more since Johnny disappeared one night and left his cabin burning behind him. But no-one 'round here wants the place. The Hanfords and the Higginses kept up the taxes on the place, just in case Johnny come home -- kin is kin -- but they'll be right glad to get shut of it if a chance comes, now they can sell it. The cabin? Right over that way -- if you lean across this bunk here and look out the window, you can see -- right over there -- see the blackberry patch and the roses? -- that's the rosebush folks say Cindy planted the year she and Johnny got married; it's the south corner of the cabin. If you poke around in the blackberries you can find the stone steps and bricks from the chimneys that fell down a few years ago. You can see places along the roads all round out here in the country where there's nothin' standin' but a chimney marks some family's house went up in smoke before anyone could get help to 'em, you know. Sooner or later the chimneys fall too, and then, 'less there was a murder or somethin' extra gruesome, no-one's even sure where they were. Anyway, that's where the cabin was. If you look over that way -- lean real close to the window, cause it's a sharp angle -- you can see where most of the old stone well-house was, and... Whoops! Didn't mean for you to slip and fall like that, mister... Been so long, even one beer's made me a little light-headed and I just slipped and... Well, move over so I can get up off the bed and... Oh, my. What could that ever be that I feel pressed against my leg. Let me feel around and see. Oh, my goodness. Like that actress-lady said, I think you must be really glad to meet me. If I hold it like this and stroke it a little, will... Oh, my! I wouldn't have thought it could get no bigger. Mmmmm... That's nice. What? You noticed I didn't have no bra on, did you? Can't hide nothin' under this thin cotton, can I? Can you tell I'm might near as pleased to meet you as you are me... Oh. Ohh. Oh, yes! Undo the rest of the buttons, mister, and I'll see if I can manage this zipper here. They are, aren't they? All puffy and pink and crinkly and standin' up. They give you any ideas? Ohhhhhhh. That's a good idea. And the other one too, right? Mmmmm. Kiss it. Suck it some... Oh, my. It's even bigger than I thought. I can hardly get my hand around it. Maybe we better not... I don't know if this thing can fit inside a little ol' girl like me... Of course it was a joke. Here, roll over on your back, and let me get these trousers and shorts off you. Wooo. It stands up right pretty, doesn't it? It's so hard and so round and the head looks just like a big ol' purple plum like grows on the trees behind the ol' wellhouse. I remember Billy bet me one time i couldn't put one of them plums in my mouth whole without bitin' it any. I wasn't as full-grown as I am now, but I managed it mister. I slipped that big old plum between my lips and sucked it into my hot wet mouth and then i spit it out and i pushed Billy down in the leaves and i did it again, just... like... this... mmmm. ymmmm. ummm-ummm. oooommmm... slppppslppp. You likin' that? Should I go on? How 'bout if i sort of stroke the shaft of it with my hand while i... mmmmmmm. mmmmm. mmm-mmm-mmm-mmmmmmmm! You wanna cum in my mouth? I don't mind. I kinda like it. hmmmmahmmmmahmmmmmmmmmmm Awww. I couldn't swallow it all -- see, some's drippin' down on your tummy. Let me lick it off. Whoa. It's still there. What you suppose... Wow. Never had a man sweep me off my feet that way before, mister. Ohh, yes. Lick my titties. Kiss my nipples... Lick my belly button... that's it! Mmmm. Think you can find the kitten under all that fur? Ooooooohhhh! Guess you did. Lick me... eat me... Oh, my, I can feel your tongue sliding up in me... Yesssyessyesssssss! Ohhh. yes! Finger me. Make me cum and cum. Two fingers, use two fingers! What're you...?? OOoooh. No-one ever licked my asshole before, mister. Oh, wow, that's different... A finger? In my ass? Uhhhh...OGodohGodoGod I'm cummin'... Now...? Yesss! Lick my clit. Lick it hard. Keep them fingers going, too; fill me up while you lick my pussy... Oh, my -- two fingers in my ass... I'm cumming! I'm cumming again!! What -- what're you... oh! Sure! Stand up and lean forward over the table? Sure! Spread 'em? Like this? This is so nasty -- I love it. Bet my pussy's spread right wide open in front of you, huh? Ooooohhhh... lick my asscrack some more. Play with my pussy with your fingers... God I'm so hot and wet and ready! I... I... Where's your fingers? Don't leave me like... Oooofffffhhh. Yesss... shove that big cock to me. Jam me full, hard and deep and fast... fuck me daddy fuck me fuck me... it's got me stretched out so full so wide... I bet you can see how stretched my pussy is where it's in me... fuck me fuck me harder harder... HARDER DEEPER FASTER... What? Why? Where are you? Oh, no! No way is it goin' fit in there without hurting me. Let me up. I said let me up. Nonono -- no! It hurts! Stop, please! It hurts! Ohmigod, how am I going to... OhOhOh...more and more ... please don't put it all the way innn... Oh... Why did you stop? Are you gonna take it outta there? "To give me time to loosen up and relax"? I guess I am relaxin' -- it doesn't hurt as much and... No! Please! Not more! unnn. unnnnn unnnnmmmmmmmmmmmm Oh my. More. More. Fuck me, mister. Fuck my ass... Oh, my God... Oh! Yes!!! Finger my pussy and fuck my ass... harder, please! Oh Oh Oh Oh I'm cummmmmmminnnnggggg... Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh Oh, oh, oh -- I can feel you cumming too -- all hot and wet and shooting up in my insides and... ohhhhhhhhhhhhh. Oh my. I never had anything like that. Not even with Billy, that night that Johnny... Mmm? Yes, I said Johnny. That night that Johnny come home two days before he was s'posed to and snuck in to surprise me. Well, he did. S'prised Billy, too. Oh -- we was in such a rush I never did tell you my name, did i? My bad. It's Cindy. Mister -- if you do buy this place, do me a favor, okay? Make sure that they dig up the rosebushes, okay? Johnny dug 'em up and then replanted them that night, just before he threw the torch in the cabin door and walked away forever... Me and Billy been waitin' a long time to go home and join our kinfolk an' we're cold... Country Girl Some will fall in love with life and drink it from a fountain, that is running like an avalanche coming down the mountain. * * * * * "Really?" is all I can say. Well, I think I say it. I might be just kind of shrieking it in my own mind. Anyway, I don't have time for anything else; it's hit the cow, well, cows, or, nope, nothing else. And why are there cows on the road at night in a storm? I jerk the wheel to the side, and feel all four wheels leave the road, hydroplane over mud, then I'm doing the movie thing where you're plowing through corn -- cliche, I know, but I'm doing it -- the tall thick stalks whipping down in front of me, pounding the hood, competing with the rain for clatter. Oh yeah, it's raining, but it really needs a better description than that; it's, uh, it's, oh, and I'm still ripping through the cornfield at this point too, until I think to brake, and come to a squelching stop. Quiet. Uh, I guess I was, ahem, screaming? Manly screaming though. Bellowing. Now though, just the rain pounding down, like it never will stop. * * * * * God damn it. It looks like it actually may never stop; it's so dark when I step from the car that I literally cannot see my hand in front of my face. Later, I stop to press my eyes and forehead to my sleeve to blot the sweat and salt from my eyes. Hot. Muggy. No lights at all. No idea where I am. I should have stayed with the car, though no one has passed me in the hour I've been walking. Too far to go back now. Might as well keep on. And now, nice, hail. A little farther along I feel a crunch under my boots and realize I'm walking on gravel now. The road bends away to the left here and the gravel (driveway?) heads just straight on. The rain comes down harder, and I have to strip water out of my eyes. Fuck this. I follow the gravel. A quarter mile or so up a shallow grade is a group of buildings; looks like a barn, house, garage, sheds of some kind. Typical farm layout, I guess, not being a farmer. I splash and squelch my way up across the lawn, and up the wooden steps to a screened-in porch. I debate knocking on the screen, but I know it's pointless, the wind is just too much, forget about the rain, so I pull it open and step onto the porch, dripping, and rap on the door, trying not to sound like a scary person knocking on an isolated farmhouse door in the middle of a dark and stormy. Lights come on all around me, lighting the porch in what would be cheerful yellow light in other circumstances, but I'm so dark-adapted, that my eyes squeeze shut, and I wince, just as the door opens to reveal the second movie moment of the evening; Farmer John, wearing, no kidding, overalls, holding -- you guessed it! -- a shotgun! Fun times! "Uh, wow, hello sir, I'm kind of in a fix, ha-ha!" He doesn't laugh, just looks unimpressed. "Anyway, my car is off the road in a field somewhere, and I've been walking for a while, I don't even know where..." Remember; I'm still standing on the porch dripping, and he still hasn't said anything. He's not pointing the shotgun at me, he just has it over the crook of his arm, like I'm not much of a threat. "Who is it dear?" I hear from behind him, not much worried either, just mildly curious. "Well" he says, and sighs, "looks like a lost boy. Half drowned too." Don't get me wrong; he's not concerned, he's just reporting the news. "Well bring him in" says the nicer voice, "he'll catch his death." So farmer John, steps back, and holds the door open, indicates for me to enter with a little jerk of his head. I make to step in but he stops me. "Kick your boots off boy, you're a mess." So I do, and walk in my socks into a warm and brightly lit kitchen. "Oh, lord, what a mess," confirms the older of the two women in the room, a roundish, plumpish farmer's wife-looking lady, "you come with me young man, supper's almost ready, but it'll keep." She takes me by the arm, and leads me further into the house, as Farmer John snorts, and breaks his shotgun to extract the shells. "Sarah, go fetch some dry clothes for this boy now, and I'll show him where to get cleaned up." I'm starting to shiver now in the cool house, as the rain continues to drip from, well, all of me, and I'm extremely grateful as the nice lady leads me to a big, white-tiled bathroom, and points to an enameled tub with an old-timey brass shower and pipe contraption. "You just get cleaned up now, and here's some towels, and Sarah will leave some dry things for you just outside, alright?" she says, pats me on the arm, wipes her now wet hand on her apron, and bustles out. Heavenly hot shower, sluicing mud and cold down the drain, standing in the needling spray until I'm thoroughly warmed, then big, soft white towels, wiping a circle in the mirror with my hand, and combing my hair back with my fingers as best I can. I find a stack of clothes outside the door, and I sort through them; canvas pants, a denim shirt, with nickel buttons, and a three-pack of tube socks, still in the wrapper, the kind I wore as a kid. with two wide stripes at the top, and that go up to just below the knee. Very nostalgic. The clothes fit me surprisingly well, they must either be someone else's or Farmer John's from many years prior. Dressed, I find my way back to the kitchen, and only the motherly lady is in there now, doing several things at once at a big iron stove. She smiles at me, props her hands on her hips, and nods once; apparently I pass muster, even in my socks. Supper is ready now, and she calls for Sarah to help her set the food out. Farmer John apparently has no duties in this arena. Sarah is several years younger than I am, in her late twenties at least. Slender and shy, with dark hair, unruly, captured in a ponytail, and dark eyes that meet mine for just a moment, before she blushes, and looks down again. She's in a slightly more modern version of the older lady's outfit, but it's still farmhouse chic for sure; blue and white checkered dress, with buttons like Dorothy's. They set out the food, and Aunt B -- as I've taken to calling her in my mind -- tells Sarah to pour some milk, and Sarah points out a chair for me, so I sit. "John! It's ready dear!" calls Aunt B, and I have to grin. It really is Farmer John! And he comes to the table, and scowls at me, but I have an idea it's not personal, he's just a scowler, and Aunt B won't let the conversation begin until the platters have been passed, and we're all stocked up. I'm introduced then to everyone, and I get to tell my story, and Farmer John allows that he probably knows where my car is, and that we can pull it out with the tractor in the morning if the rain lets up. We have dinner, and it's farm-fresh baby; fried chicken, and biscuits, peas, a big green salad, several kinds of potato dishes, and of course, pie for dessert. Peach. Very nice. Farmer John doesn't stick around after; just pushes back his chair, nods to Aunt B, give me a little extra scowl, and bails. I offer to help with the cleaning up, but Aunt B won't hear of it, and gently but firmly propels me out of the kitchen, and into the living room, which is empty of Farmer John. The women clatter around in the kitchen for a while, and I have time to reflect on what an odd situation this is, and if this really were a movie, they'd kill me later tonight. Although, now that I think about it, Aunt B doesn't really seem that homicidal, what with the fried chicken and all. Kitchen clean, Aunt B bustles in, collects me, and shows me to my room for the night; farmhouse all the way, with wide plank floors, a rocking chair, a four-post bed with a little bench at the foot, lace curtains, quilted bedspread, all that stuff. She lights an oil hurricane lamp for me, makes me promise to put it out before I go to sleep, tugs the curtains closed, and fluffs the pillows. She asks Sarah, who's standing in the doorway, if there's fresh sheets on the bed, and Sarah nods, but a stricken expression crosses her fresh, pretty features, but it's gone again before I can decipher it. Her preparations complete, Aunt B announces that it's well past her bedtime, and turns to go. I glance surreptitiously at my watch to find that it's all of eight thirty. I look questioningly at Sarah, but she just hides a little smile and looks down. I guess it's time for bed then. "Goodnight" I say, feeling a little silly. They leave, and I listen for the telltale sound of the key locking me in, preparatory to my eventual murder, but don't hear it. I hear them walk down the hall, and I try the door, feeling like an asshole. It opens no problem. * * * * * Perhaps an hour later, at the crazy-late time of nine-thirty, there's a little knock at my door. The killer probably; it's always the one you least expect. It's Sarah, with a stack of sheets in her arms. "You don't have sheets" she says, looking down. "You lied to Aunt B?" I ask, kidding her, but she doesn't laugh. "Aunt B?" "Never mind." "Well, I'm supposed to air and change the sheets on Sundays, but I usually don't because nobody usually uses this room." "Well it's a big problem Sarah" I say, still trying to get her to relax a little, "I'm going to have to take it up with the big man." She looks at me anxiously at that, "no, please don't!" she says, "I'll get in SO much trouble!" "Well," I say, grinning, still teasing her, "I don't see how I can let this go, I mean, how are you going to learn your lesson? Maybe you need a whuppin' with a strop!" I say this last with a kind of cheesy country bumpkin accent. I sound like an asshole even to myself. Sarah bites her lower lip, her eyes filling. "Does it have to be with a strop?" she says. Hold the phone. "Sarah, I'm just teasing you" I say, "I'm not going to whip you with a strop." "Well what are you going to use?" she says, "I just don't like the strop, but please don't tell on me." "Well, I'll, uh, have to think about it" I say, stunned, "why don't you make my bed while I consider what we should do." So Sarah made the bed, smoothing the crisp white cotton down around the edges, and put a perfect hospital fold at each corner. "See?" I said then, just for something to say, "no big deal, right?" Sarah just shook her head. "Are you going to tell on me?" "What do you think I should do?" Sarah bit her lip, still looking down. "I don't want to be in trouble." "You don't?" Another shake of her head, looking down. "Well," I say, testing, "we have to do something, don't we." Sarah shrugs, then nods. "You could just handle it yourself." "Handle it?" I'm surprised I can even get this out. My throat almost closes, my heart takes off like a, like a, I don't even know. "You mean like spank you? Ha ha!" Sarah nods, "If I let you spank me, you won't have to tell?" "Won't that be loud?" My latest entry in the stupid-things-to-say contest. I'm winning. Sarah shrugs. "They won't wake up. They never do. It's late for them, and they're on the other side." Good lord. Okay. "Okay," I finally say. "Go get ready for bed, and then come back and see me." "Do you want me to take my bath?" Good lord. "Yes." "And wear my nightdress?" Fuck me. "Yes." I'm pretty sure my voice cracks on that one. "Okay." * * * * * She's gone for quite a while, then a tentative tap on my door, and I open it, and let her in again. Her dark hair damp on the ends, still tied in a ponytail, but slightly higher on her head, and soft and shining from brushing. I could smell her when she passed me; clean and fresh, something, maybe honey. Her feet were bare on the clean smooth wood, and she wore a simple white nightdress, with a little lace at the throat and cuffs, that went just past her knees. She looked nervous. "Okay," she said, "just please don't use the strop on me." "You don't like the strop." It wasn't really a question, but she shook her head. "What should I use?" Sarah shrugged then, but I really wanted her suggestion. "Sarah, maybe we should just tell. I think that might be better." "No!" right away, and a little frantic, then she got hold of herself, "No, please, don't, I'll do whatever you say, just please don't tell." It was the 'I'll do whatever you say' that got me. How could it not? "Sarah," I said then, "look at me," and when she was; "are you going to do what I say?" I waited for her to nod. "Good," I continued then, "if you do what I say, and take your punishment, then I don't think we need to tell on you." "Thank you." Almost a whisper. * * * * * I sat on the bench at the foot of the bed, which was narrow, but as wide as the bed was, and pressed right up against it. It was padded, and rather low, so that I could lean back against the mattress, and be quite comfortable. I put my hands on my thighs, and patted, to show Sarah where I wanted her, and she only hesitated a moment before coming to me, and when she paused, unsure, I took her hand, and guided her down over my lap, her knees on the padded bench, her hips and bottom right over my lap, and her elbows on the bench on the other side of me. Her bottom was quite fetchingly thrust up, and the bench was short enough that her hands were in just the right spot to grip the far edge as she braced herself on her elbows. Her hair streamed down towards the floor, contained by the band she had placed around it, so that her neck was bare, and her slender shoulder-blades pressed against the thin cotton of her nightshirt. I felt her tummy tighten as she lay across my lap, and when I touched her, one hand on her lower back, one hand on her shoulder, she jumped, and I could feel her trembling. Or that might have been me. "Shhh..." I said, in what I hoped was a soothing tone, "just calm down now, Sarah..." I patted her shoulder in what was -- under the circumstances -- an inane gesture, and she seemed to relax a little, but her tummy was still tight, and she was breathing fast and shallow. I could feel her heart pounding on my leg, and my own heartbeat pounding in my temples. "Now," I said, when she'd calmed a little, "I'm just going to..." and then she reared up on my lap as I gripped the bottom hem of her nightshirt, and started to raise it. I didn't try to stop her, I let her raise up, and I leaned back. "What?" she started, but trailed off. I waited for a moment, watching her calmly, then, "what, what?" I said, "what am I doing?" She nodded. "I'm raising your nightshirt" I said, "I don't want to spank you over your nightshirt." She thought about it, her bottom still over my lap, but her arms straight, holding herself up, and meeting my gaze by looking back over her shoulder. "That's all?" "What do you mean?" I said, but I knew what she meant. "Not, my, my," she blushed deeply, and couldn't say it. I let her stew in her embarrassment. "Sarah, get up." "What?" "Get up, it's okay, you don't have to do this." "I don't?" Hope in her voice. "No, it's okay" I said, as she started to get up. "Thank y..." "Let's just go get them up and explain the situation." "No! Please!" she said, with a little sob in her voice, "please! I'll listen! I will!" and she started to lay back down, but I took her arm and pulled her down onto her knees in front of me. I kept my grip on her arm, firm, but not hurting, and pointed my finger in her face. "This is your very last chance" I said, and she was nodding quickly before I even finished the sentence. "No," I said, you need to listen well Sarah," more nods, "you need to do exactly what I tell you, and no more complaining, or hesitating, or questioning me, do you understand?" "Yes! Just please don't..." "Be quiet." Sarah nodded. "Stand up." Sarah got quickly to her bare feet, and stood in front of me, her feet together, hands clasped anxiously, fingers twisting. "You're going to listen now?" "Yes," she said, very quietly. "You're ready for your spanking?" Just a nod this time. "I think I'm going to have to use my belt," I said, and her eyes shot to mine, and I saw her start to say why? but she stopped herself just in time, and bit her lower lip. "Very good Sarah, you're really trying to be good, aren't you?" She only nodded, looking down, miserable. "Get my belt. It's on the dresser." She turned, and padded over to the dresser, took the coiled belt in her little hands, and brought it to me, put it on my outstretched palm. "Good girl. Now lay over my lap." She hesitated for just a moment, and a tear leaked from her eye, but she moved then; came to my side, and knelt on the bench as she had before, her knees together, feet and ankles pressed together, leaned over my lap, her hands gripping the far edge of the bench, supported on her elbows. I pushed her hair over her far shoulder with my right hand, so I could see her face, and when I did, I saw that her eyes were squeezed shut, and she was gripping the bench with knuckle-whitening force. "Sarah," I said, "relax. Look at me," and after a moment she did. Holding her eyes with mine then, I lay my left palm flat on her lower back. She trembled, but forced herself not to move. She was trying to avoid actually laying on me, so was supporting herself on knees and elbows, her tummy hovering over my legs, her belly tight. "Good girl," I said, very quietly, then, very slowly, at first, I began to drag my left hand up her back, carrying her nightdress along with it, so that, before I began it had completely covered her; draping her to her knees and pooling on the bench over her calves, now it traveled up the back of her thighs, deliberately slowly, and then further, so that I had to move my hand back to her lower back, over the material now bunching there, and gather another handful, and push again, until her thighs were entirely exposed, and I could see goosebumps on the smooth skin, and the nightdress hem was just below her buttocks. I moved my right hand then, and gently cupped her throat, felt her wild pulse, then moved her nightdress up over her bottom, exposing, of course, plain, clean, very white, and rather surprisingly brief, cotton panties. Sarah started to move, but I tightened my grip on her throat, not hard, but enough that she felt it, and she stilled, and I pushed forward more, until her nightshirt was bunched under her shoulder-blades, and her bottom was completely exposed, and her thighs too, and I stroked her throat, and lay my bare warm palm on the exposed flesh of her lower back. She was tense, and trembling, and I whispered to her, calming things, and moved my hand on her throat up and up, until it was just under her jaw, my fingers wrapping around her slender neck, and settling under her ears. Her hands flexed where they gripped the edge of the bench, but she did not move. She was trying to be good. I pressed my palm down on her lower back, pushing a little, to show her what I intended, which was that she should lower her tummy towards my thighs, but without moving forward, arching her back, and pressing her bottom out. She accomplished this with cat-like grace, and was almost immediately positioned -- unconsciously, I have no doubt -- in an extremely provocative pose over my lap; slender ankles together and raised up, toes pointed, butt pressed towards the ceiling, her slim thighs together, tummy tight, nightshirt pooling beneath her on my lap. In the way. Totally. I gathered the material as best I could in my right hand, and started to push it over her head. Sarah gave a start, and tried to rise up, perhaps involuntarily, but I tightened my grip on her throat more aggressively, and raised her face up towards the ceiling with my high grip under her jaw, and growled at her to be still through clenched teeth. I waited until she complied, and then resumed pulling the nightshirt over her head, down over her arms; lifting her elbows one by one, to free it completely then fling it behind me up onto the bed. Country Girl Sarah had let her posture slip a little, so I pressed firmly down on her lower back to fix this, and run my palm over her throat, lifting her face, the tendons in her neck hard and straining. With my left palm I caressed the smooth, soft skin of her back, and shoulders, and, skipping over her still-panty-clad bottom, the backs of her thighs. She tenses, but remains still. What a good girl. I stroked the backs of her thighs, and gripped her calves as my hand passed over them, felt the tight little muscles there, the smooth, flawless flesh. With my right hand, I released her throat, slid my palm upwards, until I'm gripping her chin, then tap my fore and middle fingers agains Sarah's lips, and say "open." When she does, I slip my two fingers into her mouth. "Suck my fingers Sarah. Gently and softly. It will help keep you quiet." Her mouth is warm and wet, and yes, okay, fine, of course, I'm thinking about her sucking my cock. Thinking about pressing my cock to her mouth and into her mouth, and moving her mouth on me until I come, because I'm so hard right now that it hurts, and my balls are drawn up and tight aching, and I totally want to fuck this submissive, mostly-naked girl draped over my lap waiting with some anxiety for me to spank her. For a moment I just stay there; stroking my fingers in her warm mouth a little, enjoying it, feeling her adjust to them, feeling her trying to do it well, to do what I told her; softly and gently. She's doing very well. I stroke her back a little bit more with my free hand, my left hand, and then move over her ribs, and invert my hand, so that my palm is facing up, and lay it on her flat little belly, tight and tense, and caress her there, swirling, find her bellybutton and explore it a little with my finger. When my hand brushes the hem of her panties she freezes, so I push my fingers a little more deeply into her mouth, and she isn't ready, and chokes a little, her tummy bucking slightly, and she has to make a slurping, sucking little effort to control the saliva flooding her mouth, and I feel my fingers get wet as she works at it. I leave her panties alone then, and glide my hand up over her belly, and without any warning at all, cup her left breast in my palm, gently but firmly. She bucks at this, and I have to grip her cheeks hard with my hand, my fingers still in her mouth, and hold her hard until she stops struggling, which takes a few moments. Her breasts are small and firm and lovely, tight little globes capped with a stiff little nipple that right now is pressing into the center of my palm. Delightful. They're hanging free and slightly forward as she rests on knees and elbows, and I'm completely free and unimpeded in my exploration. I weigh the breast I've already captured, and shake it a little, then draw my palm away so that my fingers come together and close on her nipple which is delightfully hard and tight and pulsing and sensitive. I can tell the latter by her squirms and gasps -- as best she can around the fingers I'm still working in and out of her mouth -- and writhing. I move my hand to her other breast, and subject it to the same treatment, until both bouncy little mounds are warm and flushed, and both pink little nipples are tight and puckered and straining. I keep my fingers moving in her mouth, and Sarah finds a rhythm, drawing and sucking as I slide them in and out, her chin still resting on my palm, and I keep manipulating her breasts until she's wincing slightly and moaning around my fingers in her mouth from over-stimulation. "Sarah" I say, quietly, fingers still moving in her mouth, hand still caressing her breasts. When she doesn't respond, I say her name again, then shake her chin, my fingers still sliding. Her eyes open, and she becomes still, and she tries to turn her head to look at me, but I keep her facing forward, but now I know she's listening. "I want you to be very still Sarah," I say then, "I don't want you to move at all, just be perfectly still, do you understand?" She gives a very slight nod, and I press my fingers further into her mouth, enough to make her eyes water, and her tummy clench, and squeeze her cheeks harder. I lean forward and put my mouth very near her ear. "Don't move." A growl. She tries to nod, but can't move her head, and a tear slips from her over-brimming eye. I take my hand from her breast, I can't resist smoothing my palm over her flat little belly, then rest my hand on the back of her thigh, low down, where the tendons behind her knee are tight. I grip her slender thigh there for a moment, then slide it up, and up, over her little bottom, which makes her tense up, but she fights it, and I grip the hem of her panties, just at the small of her back. I pinch the hem between two fingers and my thumb, and in one deliberate motion, pull them out, and down over her butt, to about mid-thigh. Sarah trembles, but remains still. She does squeeze her eyes shut, but that's okay. I do have to lay my left palm on her lower back and press, but Sarah knows what this means now, and arches her back, presses out her bottom, and holds it. "Good girl." I smooth my hand over her lower back a couple of times, in a circle, then, watching her face, and let my hand move lower down, over her buttocks. She tenses again, and I stop moving, but she stills, and I resume my motion, and swirl my hand over her bottom, over both firm little globes, smooth and tight, and grip her tense little butt cheeks in my hand, hard, one, then the other, enjoying the sensation. I bounce them a little in my hand, feel their resistance and spring. I do this until I feel her begin to relax a little, then I stroke the inside of her thigh, the little I can reach, down until my hand is just above her right knee, and then force my fingers between her knees, and tug a little, pull her right knee towards me, tap with my fingers to communicate my intention, until she gets it, and, reluctantly, parts her legs, back still arched, rocking from knee to knee a little, until her knees are as wide apart as they can go on the bench; her left knee right on the far edge, her right knee jammed right up against the footboard of the bed, settled in the angle between the padded bench seat and the wood against which I'm also leaning. Moving her thighs apart also brought her tummy lower as she knelt over my lap, which had the unexpected, but pleasant, benefit of bringing the tips of her breasts just into contact with my right thigh, her hard nipples brushing the rough canvas, dragging back and forth with her little movements, so stiff that I can feel them pressing into my leg. I can reach the inside of her thighs now, and take advantage of the opportunity; stroking my fingertips up and down the flawless smooth skin there, up and down, from just inside her knee, all the way up, almost to the apex, and Sarah tenses up each time, holding her breath, tightening her tummy as I approach her center, then breathing out as I let my fingers trail back down. I do this for a long time, sometimes stroking her bottom, and her tummy, and occasionally her lovely little breasts too, giving them a little squeeze, and bouncing them in my palm. Sometimes I have to press gently on Sarah's lower back to press her bottom out, but not often, she seems to have found a good position, and she's sucking on my fingers now without my moving much, sliding her lips up and down, and occasionally licking the undersides, perhaps involuntarily, when she needs to swallow. She's also not tensing up much when my hand passes over her breasts, or over her bottom, in fact, she even seems to press back into my touch at times. I pull my fingers from her mouth, and find one hot, stiff little nipple with my cool, wet fingers, which makes Sarah gasp, and I tug and massage the hard little point for just a moment, watching Sarah's face, her mouth wet and open, eyes closed, before sliding my hand up the inside of her thigh slowly but deliberately, until the edge of my hand is pressed firmly against her pussy. Sarah's whole body gives a jolt; her head comes up, and she gasps, and she tries to rise up, but I have her nipple, and tightly, so she can't really get away, and I don't move, gripping her inner thigh, as high up as my hand will go, the edge of my forefinger pressed right up against her pussy, and I keep it there, and let her settle for a moment as her writhing slows, then stops. When she quiets somewhat, I can't resist pressing my hand harder against her, twisting my palm inward around the inside of her thigh, which pushes the edge of my finger all along her center, which opens easily, soft and bare, very smooth, and I find my finger is sliding easily as her juices coat my finger where it's touching her and her slit parts, and I feel heat, and she's wet, her pussy is wet, and open, and Sarah moans, and though she's blushing, she pushes against my hand, and I tease her a little, don't give her more pressure, move away, then back again, my right hand still on her breasts, and Sarah moans, and I turn my left hand, palm in, towards Sarah's body, and slide it up until I'm fully cupping her slippery wet pulsing little pussy in my palm. Sarah jumps, but then gives a lascivious moan, and presses her cunt back against my hand, and moans again as I give her bare pussy a little squeeze, then slide my two middle fingers up her slit, opening her delicate little cunt, swirl the pads of my fingers over the impossibly smooth inner lips of her pussy, then up, to the apex of her, and press on her piping little clit, and at that, she gave a high, wordless little cry, which I cut off by clamping my hand hard over her mouth, and pulling her head back into my shoulder, straining her neck, my fingers still pressing her clit, her hips rolling helplessly, moaning into my hand. "Be quiet," I said into her ear, roughly, jerked her head hard into my chest, my hand tight on her mouth, then said it again, but I kept my fingers moving on her clit, dipping into her pussy, swirling the little nub, making her buck and writhe, and give muffled little moans against my palm. Very sweet. She's twisted now, fairly strenuously, her neck torqued around so I can keep my palm clapped over her mouth, and she's uncomfortable, but pliable and flexible, and she's humping her ass back into my hand to make me press my fingers harder against her clit. My fingers are well and truly slippery now, and she's a little lost in the sensation as I delve and stroke and swirl and pet and press. I think about making her come, but decide to wait, to hold her here for a while, and plus, it'll be more fun to spank her while she's all wet and squirmy. I stopped stroking her clit, but slid my two middle fingers deeply into her pussy which made Sarah gasp, and it's from the side, so that I ended up with my left palm gripping her tight little right butt cheek, fingers shoved in her leaky pussy, but still, and my right hand over her mouth. I let her mouth go after a moment, when she settled down, and sort of maneuvered her back into the position I wanted; on her knees and elbows, draped over my lap, back arched, bottom up, knees still apart -- I want to retain access to her cunny of course -- and hands gripping the bench. This time though, I pressed down on her lower back enough that her tummy was actually resting on the bench, reducing the angle of her hips, her bottom kind of centered over my thighs. I caressed her back for a little while, in big swirls, just touching lightly, passed my palm over her neck, and shoulders and bottom. I kept the two middle fingers on my left hand in her pussy while I did this, and she didn't seem to mind, and she even let out little pleasure sounds as I rubbed her back. I did want to keep her, well, up, if you know what I mean, so I moved my fingers in her pussy a little too; stroking and petting sometimes, and passing the pads of my fingers over her clit just occasionally, which always made her squirm. At one point -- and I knew this would make her jump, so I pressed my right hand down harder on her lower back -- I drew my fingers out of her pussy, and stroked them just lightly over the tight little rosebud of her ass, all exposed and vulnerable there. She jumped like I'd shocked her, but I held her down, and when she'd settled, I gathered a little more of her own juices, and stroked the pad of just my middle finger over her ass hole again, holding her firmly, and she wiggled, but I just pressed, and stroked in a little circle, and my finger penetrated her ass just enough to make her gasp, and freeze, and goosebumps to break out on her shoulders and the backs of her thighs, but I didn't proceed, although I really wanted to. "Sarah" I said, after a while. "Mmm..." she was distracted because I moved my fingers in her pussy just as she started to speak, but "what?" she finally managed. "Sarah, do you feel this?" I knew she did, she was squirming enough. "Um hmm...oh!" The oh! was when my fingers passed over her clit. "Sarah, I think you should answer me 'yes sir' or 'no sir', don't you?" "Um," I could tell she was having some trouble maintaining coherency here, but she tried. She was a good girl, I could tell. "Sarah?" "Yes?" "Yes sir." "Oh, oh, um, yes sir." "Better. Now, do you feel...this?" and pressed my fingers rights against her clit. "Yes sir!" I smiled a little. "I bet you do. What do you call this Sarah? Where are my fingers right now, hmm?" "My, my cunny, sir." "Your cunny? That's very sweet. Do you like my fingers in your cunny Sarah?" "Yes sir, oh!, yes..." "And this?" Sarah moaned, and gasped as I stroked her clit harder than I had before, my fingers slipping easily. "Oh, god, my clitty sir, my clitty, I...I..." I stopped, and she moaned, and tried to press her ass back harder into my hand. I didn't let her. I kept my fingers away from where she wanted them, but close, so she could seek. It was fetching, the way she wiggled her little ass and hips, trying desperately to get my fingers back on her bits. "Sarah," Her eyes were closed, pressed hard closed, and she was breathing deeply, she'd really let go, forgotten herself. It was sweet. "Sarah, listen to me." "Yes, ah, yes sir?" "Do you want me to spank you?" Sarah nodded. "I'm bad" she said. "You're bad?" She nodded, her hips still moving, wanting my fingers back where they were. I obliged, and slid my two middle fingers back into her slick little cunt, pulling a moan from her, so I pressed them deeper, then out, over her clit, and over her lubricated little cunny lips, and even ran the ball of my thumb over her ass hole as I slid my fingers back inside of her. She moaned again. "I'm bad. You need to spank me, because I'm bad, and I need it, I need it sir." I had to smile at that. I'm not sure she meant to say that out loud. It was just a whisper, like a sigh made into words. I set my fingers to work on her clit, her clitty as she called it, working the sensitive little bud in a rhythm now, pressing and stroking. Sarah pressed her ass back into my hand, but held still so I could do her, so my fingers could reach her pulsy little spot, and rub her like she wanted. "Your cunny is all wet, Sarah." She didn't answer, but I could see blushes bloom on her cheek. "It's okay Sarah. You're doing very well." She didn't answer, but nodded. "I'm going to spank you now" I said, and she didn't answer, or try to answer, but only bit her bottom lip a little, and produced the tiniest little nod. I put my right hand on her lower back, and pressed down. "Raise your ass" I told her, and she blushed more furiously, but did it, and gripped the edge of the bench harder, and clenched her butt. "Sarah, you stay right like this, okay? Be as quiet as you can, and don't move." She nodded, and I gripped her pony tail in my right hand, and jerked her head back until she gasped. "Answer me correctly." "Yes sir!" "Don't move." "Yes sir!" "Keep your thighs apart." "Yes sir." Calming just a little. I brought my left hand down on her ass so hard that for a moment she couldn't even cry out; her mouth opened wide in a silent gasp, and her eyes too, wide and staring up, and filling with tears. Her legs gave a great jerk, and straightened out, so that for a moment she was perfectly rigid over my lap, her breasts up off of the bench as her back arched strenuously, her knuckles white where they gripped the bench. I clapped my hand over her mouth just in time to stifle a loud cry. I pulled her head into my chest, and held her tightly. "Be quiet!" I whispered fiercely into her ear, "right now. Be quiet." While she settled, I pressed and stroked her stinging left buttock, impressed with a vivid, perfect hand print. Given the way she winced and squirmed, it apparently still hurt. Poor thing. The next smack, if anything, was harder, on the right this time, and she jumped again, and her reaction was so violent that my hand slipped from her mouth and so allowed the high-pitched squeal to escape, but just the one, and then I had her mouth again, firmly, and treated her to a few more hard smacks, until both bottom cheeks were thoroughly pink, and I could feel the heat rising from them, and my hand stung and throbbed. It was hard to hold her over my lap with just my hand on her mouth, she was squirming so much, and wiggling her butt to escape punishment. Finally I had enough, and had to stop. "Get up." When she was standing in front of me, bouncing a little on the balls of her feet, which moved her round little breasts quite fetchingly, rubbing her bottom with both hands to take away the sting of the spanking, I shook my head in disappointment. "Sarah this isn't working, let's just go tell them and get it over with." I could see the shock and dismay contort her features, even through the tears. "Wha...nooo!!!" she started to wail, but I grabbed her wrist, and pulled her to her knees in front of me, pointed my finger into her face. "Be quiet," I said, in a calm, but serious voice that seemed to penetrate her distress. "You're making far too much noise, and squirming way too much." "I'm sorry." "Are you going to do better?" "I am! I'll be good!" "I'm going to have to use my belt, because you were so much trouble." She started to protest, her eyes filling again, then, with an effort, stopped herself. "Very good" I said, then, "take your panties off and hand them to me." She did; balancing on one knee then the other, reaching back to slip them over her slim ankles before handing them to me with downcast eyes. I took the panties in my right hand, and balled them up, fit my foot between her knees and pushed her thighs further apart, then reached down between her legs with my left, and cupped her bare pussy. She jumped, but before she could move, I found her little slit, and opened her up -- not difficult; her little cunt was drenched and open and quivery -- and slid my two middle fingers right up inside her. She gasped and lightly gripped my wrist in both hands; not resisting, but trying to maintain some sense of control over the proceedings. I stroked my fingers in and out of her delightfully snug little tunnel once or twice, then swirled them over her clit, which made her buck and convulse a little, and pressed the little button, rubbed it in a little circle, until she was gasping, then stopped, my fingers sunk deeply into her pussy, her clit pressed and pulsing against my palm. Sarah moaned, and another tear leaked from her eye. I couldn't resist any longer, and I leaned forward, and put my mouth on hers, her soft, heated lips opening at once, accepting and pliant and wet, and I kissed her, my tongue passing over her bottom lip, our teeth clicking once as I pressed into her, plundering her mouth, sucking her lip between mine as she swayed into me, leaned into the kiss. She tasted sweet, tempered with salt from her helpless little tears. Country Girl I pressed my palm between her legs forward and felt her pull my hand harder against the junction of her thighs with her hands on my wrist. She ground her hips, and pulled, snugging my palm more firmly against her clit, and panted into my mouth as she found pressure, and I moved my fingers in her wet little cunt, and let her grind on my hand, and kissed her, until she was breathing hard, and moaning into my mouth, and humping my hand most un-self-consciously. I kissed her jaw, and shoved her head to the side with my cheek so that I could kiss her throat, and the hollow below her ear, and test the flesh of her neck with my teeth, which made her moan and shiver. I bit lightly, then harder, feeling the muscle where her neck met her smooth shoulder, and drew my teeth across her skin, planting occasional kisses in tender spots. Sarah was moaning, grinding on my hand between her legs, wanting more, and fuck, I wanted more myself. Quite a lot more. My cock was painfully hard, I really needed to adjust it, and my balls were starting to ache, and were drawn up and tight, and I could feel my pulse beating in my temples. I put my mouth back on hers, and kissed her harder, cupping the back of her head in my right hand, still holding her panties, and pulling her face into me. I kept my fingers working in her pussy, and Sarah kept moving her hips, and gasping, and I kissed her until I felt her lips heating and plumping up and when I pulled back a little, her lips were a deep red, her mouth wet and open and her eyes closed as if she were concentrating; consumed with chasing the pleasure zipping through her body. "Stand up" I said quietly, and she stood in front of me, blushing as I looked at her, her lovely little breasts all flushed and pink, little nipples at strenuous attention, her flat little tummy, and all the rest of her. "Are you going to be good?" She nodded, looking down. "Answer me." "Yes sir." "Is your little pussy all wet?" She nodded at first, then a whispered "yes sir." "Come here." I took her right hand in my left, and pulled her towards me. She was confused at first; I had to guide her a bit, and fit my hand behind her thigh to guide her knee up onto the bench, first one, then the other, and she steadied herself with her hands on my shoulders, until she was facing me, straddling me, kneeling on the bench, her breasts on a level with my face, so I kissed them a little, just because, well, I had to, then I pulled her even more forward, until her knees slipped partly off the bench pressing into the foot of the bed, and she slid down, until she was resting on me, straddling me, tender little slew pressed tight against the rough canvas right over my cock, which made her gasp, and shift her hips a little, which made her gasp again. I took up my belt, which still lay on the bench next to me, and made sure she saw me double it, then wrap one loop around my right hand. I set my left hand on her back, very low down, and pulled her into me harder, shifted my hips to press the rough stuff of my pants against her defenseless little bits, enjoying her sounds as I did so, then put my left hand on the back of her head, pulled her face into my neck. I felt her kiss my neck very lightly, just once. Her arms went around my neck, her warm, naked body pressed tight against me all the way up. I kept my hand on the back of her head, holding her mouth against my throat, said "you be quiet now, do you understand me?" She nodded against my neck. "I'm going to use the strap on you." She gave a little sob, but didn't move otherwise. "Are you ready?" "Why?" she said, very quietly. "Why am I doing it?" "Um hmm." I thought about that for a second. "Because I want to. I really, really want to." "Oh," she said, in the quietest possible voice. I swung the belt very hard. I wasn't sure I'd be able to get a satisfying smack with her on my lap like that, so I swung the belt hard, with my right hand, and caught her perfectly straight across the ass with it, the quick double impact of the leather on her skin first, then the almost immediate clack of the doubled belt coming together. Apparently, it made quite an impression on Sarah. She gulped in a great gasp of air, and her hips drove forward, away from the bright sting, grinding her bare pussy hard against my canvas-shielded cock. She threw her head back, out of reflex, and I couldn't help bending and taking one rock-like little nipple into my mouth for a moment, and sucking on it. She writhed on my lap, gritting her teeth, squeezing her eyes shut, trying so, so hard to be quiet, and almost succeeding. I watched her face, and licked one little tear from her soft cheek. I put my hand on the back of her head, and pulled her face into the hollow of my neck, and held it there until she quieted a little, then brought the belt across her ass again, hard, and kept my grip on the back of her head, holding her face there, as she squirmed and writhed on my lap, grinding her pussy against me, surely she'd be sore later, and trying to be as quiet as possible, and mostly succeeding. Twice more with the belt, pretty much in the same spot, and she couldn't keep from crying out, and I hoped her theory about our isolation was correct. She was really writhing now, even when the belt wasn't finding her ass, and I thought that probably the smacks were running together, and her bottom was one bright focus of sensation now. I swung the belt one more time, and just as I did, Sarah felt it coming and moved; tried to escape it, and instead of laying another stripe across her ass, the belt took her right across her lower back, a little off-center, so that the end wrapped a little around her side, just below her ribs. Her whole body jerked and spasmed like an electric current were passing through her, and she cried out, and ground her tummy against me, and her pussy against me, just trying to get away from the sting. I pressed her face against my neck and held her there, and she cried into my shoulder, and writhed on my lap as I set down the belt, and stroked her back, stroked her warm little ass, felt the welts, gripped her hips, and pulled her tight against me, petted her, caressed her long, smooth back with just my fingertips, all up alongside her ribs, my fingers passing over the sides of her breasts where she was pressed against me, her arms tight around my neck, not saying anything as she quieted down, very gradually. I palmed her ass in my hands, gripped firmly, felt the heat coming off the tight little globes; a very palpable warmth radiating into my hands, and I kept her pulled snug against me, moving my hands a little, gripping, moving again, gripping, her face still pressed to my neck, then I wrapped my left arm around her lower back, held her tight, and with my right hand kept caressing her bottom in swirls, moving in, moving lower, until I found her pussy with my fingers. Straddling me, my arm around her lower back pulling her in, her pussy was defenseless and exposed, and she jumped when I touched her, but there was nowhere to go, and I parted her soft little lips, and dipped my fingers into her cunny, opened her -- she was already soft and tender and open, it didn't take much -- and moved just the tips of my fingers up and down her slit, very lightly god, she was drenched, until she was pressing her ass back, seeking more contact. When she did, I slid my two middle fingers inside of her, making her gasp against my neck, pressed them deep into her impossibly tight, grippy little cunt, then found her clit and swirled it, pressed it, which really made her wiggle. I slid my fingers back, dipped them into her pussy again, and used that hand to pull her tight to me, so her clit was pressed against my cock, and I ground against her tender little mound so that she winced, but I didn't let her move back, just slid my fingers slowly in and out of her tunnel, and made her grind against me until she was doing it herself, pressing her hips forward, rocking in slow waves, grinding against me, gasping quietly into my neck. I could feel her pussy contract on my fingers as she moved; each time she squeezed her ass to press into me I could feel it, and as she started to move faster, a little more assertively, I alternated sliding my fingers in and out of her cunt, with passing them smoothly up and over her tight little ass hole, and this she never became used to; she jerked and gasped every time. Very sweet. "Sarah" I said, quietly, "Sarah look at me," and it took some more coaxing, but she finally did, she finally pulled her face from my neck, and I nudged her cheek with mine, to move her face to the side, and I kissed her, her lips hot and soft, her mouth opening on mine, and I could taste her tears, kissing her softly, gently, her arms still around my neck, my fingers still stirring her, down below, so that she kept up her rocking motion, and I fed on her mouth, and petted her smooth, drenchy little slew for a long time, until she was starting to gasp softly, and when my fingers passed over her clit, she jumped each time, and gave a little cry, and I could feel her trying to torque her hips around to follow my fingers, to keep the pads of my fingers on her clit, and she made a delicate little sound, like hnnn! each time I slid my fingers inside her, and a gasp when I swirled her clit, and all the while I was kissing her, pressing forward and back against my cock, which was rather painfully constrained by my pants, and dear god I want to fuck this girl. "Sarah, stand up." She heard me, but made a little soft sound of negation, and pressed her mouth harder against mine, ground her helpless little pussy harder against me, gripped my neck. I kissed her, and let her grind, and fit my right hand to the back of her head, kissed her harder, pulled her ass firmly into me with my left hand, slipped my fingers from her cunt, swirled my middle finger around her vulnerable little rosebud once, twice, Sarah jerking each time, then settled the pad of my finger just on her ass hole, and pressed it in. Sarah squealed into my mouth, as I had anticipated, but I held her against me, my mouth on hers, and I felt her tight little ring clenching on my finger as it popped in, slippery on her juices, slick enough that try as she might, she couldn't stop me, and I enjoyed her writhing for a while, and as she tried to escape my finger, saw too that she was rather frantically grinding her cunt against my cock, humping and moaning and pressing and breathing hard into my mouth and I realized that she was trying to come. I let my finger slip from her ass, and she moaned at the sensation, but I put my hands on her hips, and pushed her away, fighting her, her hips rocking and twisting, until finally I had to just stand up and set her on her feet. She looked wild, and beautiful, her cheeks and breasts and throat flushed and pink, her hair partially escaped from her ponytail, and forming a dark nimbus around her face, her chest heaving with her breaths, nipples tight and stiff and jutting. "Kneel on that bench" I said, pointing. She looked at the bench, looked back at me. "Kneel, Sarah, face the bed, put your elbows on the bed." Then I just took her arm and guided her onto the narrow bench, on her knees, pushed her between her shoulder blades to guide her down like I wanted. I took her hips in my hands, and pulled back, sliding her elbows on the bedspread, extending her arms slightly, so her breasts were free of the bed, her ass jutting back, back arched. "Spread your legs, Sarah" then "wider" when she shifted to move her knees farther apart. I slapped the inside of one tender thigh to part them even further, and she did, until her knees were wide apart on the bench, thighs strenuously spread, elbows just able to reach the foot of the bed, and I put my hand on her lower back, and pressed down, curving her tummy down towards the floor, and pressing her ass back towards me, then clapped my other hand flat against her vulnerable little pussy, making her squeal, and gave her another light smack, enjoying her sounds, and writhing, then drew my hand back a little further, and delivered a true slap, light, but sharp, right on her smooth, bare mound. Sarah squealed again, but I opened her up with my fingers, her soaky little slit parting immediately, and I found her clit, and pressed it, stroked it, rolled it firmly, my fingers sliding easily on her copious lubrication, and Sarah gave a low, almost guttural moan, pressed back against my hand, rolled her hips, and gasped each time my fingers passed over her clit. I unfastened my pants with my free hand, awkwardly, my right hand still stimulating Sarah, who for her part kept pressing back against my hand to make me stroke her harder. I finally got my pants open, then down and off, and kicked them away. My cock was hard, and aching, and leaking, and it felt very good to be free of those pants, and I put my left hand on Sarah's ass, and took my right from her cunt, and slicked up the head of my cock, and down the shaft, our juices mixing, my cock becoming instantly and utterly slick, and holding my cock at the base, I stepped closer, and swiped the head of my cock gently up Sarah's slit from behind, my swollen head bumping against her clit first, then parting her impossibly smooth, heated lips, opening her slightly, passing up her cleft, penetrating her only a little, but pulling another gasp from her mouth, and then any notions I had of drawing this thing out any further were abruptly negated when Sarah pressed hard back into me just as my cock was lined up with her pussy, and slid my cock all at once, and hard, into her tender little cunt, up into her belly, all of me, all of her, slick and hot and tight and fuck and I could feel her tunnel clenching on my cock, and she shivered, and moaned, and for a moment did not move, adjusting to the intrusion, her tummy tight, pussy spasming a little, and then she moaned, and moved forward, my cock sliding from her body, slowly, delicious, debilitating pleasure rushing up my spine, goosebumps on my back and arms, my scalp tingling, gritting my teeth, until just the head of my cock was inside her, a pause, a beat, then she jammed back, hard, I still hadn't moved, and seated my cock in her cunt again, fully, and she gave a little cry, I was reaching all of her, and this time there was no pause, the long slide out, endless slick friction, and my balls drew up, my cock swelled and pulsed, and I knew I'd come if she moved on me again, thrust back to bury my shaft in her body, and Sarah I said, I think I said it, perhaps not, but, but, I, I, fuck, "Wait" I said, gasped, that time it was out loud, and she shook her head, and tried to move back on me, but "wait, just," I said again, and moved my hips back and the head of my cock slipped from her heated tunnel completely, and she pressed her hips back, seeking, her forehead pressed to the bed. I regained some slim measure of control, let my bobbing, throbbing cock seek her grippy little hole once again, penetrating easily, sliding and tight, and she thrust back, and I thrust forward again, helpless, and fucked her, one hand on her hip, one hand on the small of her back, fucking her hard, trying to hurt her, her fine small breasts bouncing, her head thrown back now, her cunt gripping and pulling at me, hard thrusts, and I reached forward, cupped her throat in my hand, pulled back, feeling her throat working under my palm, and fucked her, moaning, gasping, and let go of her throat, trailed my hand down her back, gripped a taut little butt cheek, slid the ball of my thumb up the edge of her pussy, then up, gathering moisture, over her little bottom hole, felt her shudder, tense, then pushed, and slid my thumb into Sarah's ass. She bucked and moaned and I pulled her tight to me with my hand on her hip, drove my cock in as deeply as I could, felt her gather, tremble, her mouth open in a silent scream, her pussy clenching on my cock, her ass clenching on my thumb, and her body gave a great jerk, almost convulsing as her orgasm tore through her, goosebumps rose in waves on her back and thighs and ass, and she writhed, pressed her face into the bed and cried out, jerking and spasming, each spasm clearly conveyed to my cock, impossibly tight, fucking, just, and then, then, fucking, I, I pulled back, knowing I was there, it was too late, I was there, and I pulled back just once, and thrust my hips forward again, hard, jamming my cock up into her body, her soft slick cunt, fuck, and then I was coming; my cock swelled, I could feel it, gathered, and the sensations broke, pleasure sparking and racing through my nerves, over my skin, sharp, hot, pleasure, too much, just pressed up into her, the fronts of her thighs pressed against the foot of the bed, trapped, spread open and vulnerable as I pressed forward, sure now that I was hurting her, and not caring, needing this, thrust into her, forever and ever and ever. I pressed my forehead onto her back, between her shoulders, and kissed her skin, tasted her. She was breathing deeply, but calmly, coming down, her precious little cunny still squeezing me, making me gasp. I kissed her shoulder, the back of her neck, and tried to stand, but my legs were shaking, my pulse pounding in my temples. I pulled my hips back, let my cock slip from her body, a slight, lovely little gasp from Sarah, and took her hand, pulled her onto the floor with me, settling her under my arm as our breathing slowed. She kissed my shoulder, my neck, and I reached up, and pulled on the bedspread, tugged it onto the floor with us, and made sure she was covered. "I like you" she said sleepily, and I laughed a little. "I like you too" I said. "Sarah..." I started, and I felt her laugh slightly, "What?" I said then, "why are you laughing?" "I was just wondering what you were going to say after all that" she said, "I mean, really." So I let it go. This was enough right now. For the moment. I kissed the top of her head, pulled her closer. Country Girl - Day One - Later Country Girl Day One Morning I was awakened at 6am by the little clock on the side of my bed. It didn't buzz or play music. Instead it repeated over and over," Get up cunt." There was no snooze button. No way to ignore its command to me. No way for me to believe this had been a little girlish fantasy dream I was just awakening from. Instead, 'eyes wide open', in my small room, I was to be a submissive girl, slut, whatever they wanted. Whoever and how many 'they' were I would be theirs. (I am not going to bore you with all the rules in the book etc. Instead I will let you know sometimes when I am abiding by one particular rule or when I am being punished for not remembering another. To the girls who want more detail on the clothes, I'm sorry. To the MEN who want fewer details, I apologize sincerely. To those who are unhappy with my stories I say, "Read something else". And to the friends I've made or people who have enjoyed this passion, I say Thank You. Now on Blitzer!) I stood up my blue nightie hanging down, just over my crotch. Walking over to the mirror and I looked at myself. Gosh what a mess. I hadn't taken my make-up off last night and now my face and my hair looked like a rag doll. A little of Master Cock's cum had come out of my mouth while I was holding it last night and was now clumped in a patch just below my lip on my left . As I looked I could see why I was there. I could see in my green eyes the glimmer of dreams. But I could also see those dreams would be others and their use of me would be my memories. From the closet I took the outfit that had been selected for the day. Although it was quite evident looking at 6 other similar outfits with each having a day of the week sewn in red on the right breast pocket, it was equally disconcerting seeing "CUNT and under it SATURDAY". And I guess I would have to clean and press them each day to be ready for the next week. On the other side of the closet were all sorts of outfits. I knew not to rummage through them until I was told. Putting the maid's uniform on the bed with the Mary Jane's by the foot of the bed (how girly of me) I went over to the vanity and opened my make-up suitcase. Suddenly, I realized I had to pee badly. From the past months of habit I grabbed my 'douchette' (Master Cock's name for it) and walked out to the bathroom to clean up. The house was dark with just a night light in the hall and a summer morning chill twisting up under my nightie which made me feel twice as naked as I was. Walking into the bathroom (as you know the door is missing) I saw a note on the mirror from Master Cock. It simply said, "Your first toilet in the morning is the only time you do not need permission. And, as you know you may not talk first with anyone. So, you'll just have to figure out what to do for the rest of the day." I had forgotten about the "Bathroom Control" part of the deal. As I would learn soon I didn't know much about anything. Sitting down on the toilet I tinkled and then wiped away from my anus. Then I poopied and wiped the other way. I'm not sure how girls do it but I am sure Master Cock had instructed me on this hygiene method months ago. Getting up I flushed, turned on the shower, took my pills, removed my nightie and enjoyed the warmth of the shower. Washing my hair and body I felt so clean. The dirt washed down my body, swirled around my red toenails and finally disappeared in a swirl through the drain. I felt wonderful. Drying off I went back to my room and was about to proceed putting on a pair of panties before doing my make-up. Opening the drawer I looked down and pulled out my favorite color, a sea-green panty and matching bra. But, the panties were different from anything I had ever seen or heard about. I hope I can explain but since this is scientific and I really am not too bright in that department it will be difficult. (I'm good on colors and I'm a blond) By the way girls they were string thong with a large frontal patch for you bushy ones like me. (Does anyone know why we use they or pair of panties to designate a single panty?) Anyhow, built into the crotch of the panties was some sort of hard bendable material. That I figured out right away was something for my figure and saw that all the other panties had the same thing. But when I went to put them on I saw something else on the inside. Oh I had seen things like 'neosteel' makes and had read stories about 'glue-on-vaginas.' But this was different. Inside the front, behind the patch, was a pocket. Upon opening the elastic pocket I could see something that looked like a condom but appeared stronger. It was supple and obviously was to put my....call it what you will... into. I turned the panties over and could see a small hole in the lower part of the panty. Touching the hole it was evident a small tube (very short in length) connected to the end of the condom like sheath and then out. Well, you know what that was for? Right? My face reddened as I realized that I would be peeing as a woman as well. Getting the panties on wasn't too hard and when I sat down at the vanity to put my sheer wired bra on I felt like, well almost.....I think! So then I was dressed in my maid's outfit. Fully made up with bright red lips and the, for better want of a phrase, control panty holding me tight and forming a very feminine looking front to my panties or anything else I might wear. I left the room to clean up before 8am. That much I knew. I was too clean up any mess from the night before and have coffee ready. After breakfast around 10am I would do the bedrooms (as necessary), do the laundry and hang it outside. Then at lunch I was to be finished and in the afternoon clean the bathrooms. Fortunately, this morning I though there would be very little to clean up since Master Cock and I had come alone. But, I could tell when I got to the kitchen I was wrong. There were four empty highball glasses, a few dishes with dried on food and an ashtray over on the table with an open deck of cards. I started looking for the dishwasher but there wasn't one. Sadly, I was going to wash everything by hand while I was here. Under the sink (luckily) there were a pair of rubber gloves and by 8am the house of was clean and the coffee was made when I heard the first male rumblings of the morning. The sound came from the bathroom. It was a loud, "AHHHHHH! And I could hear his pee hitting the toilet. Nervously I glanced around the edge of wall to peek and just as I did I heard his voice. It wasn't Master Cock but before I could pull back into the kitchen he commanded, "Bitch, I know you're looking, get your ass over here right now." I walked down the hall shaking as I approached the bathroom. I saw he had a small ass but looked very tall as he stood peeing. When I got within what I can only call striking distance, he turned, grabbed my wrists pulling me into the bathroom and bending me a bit over in one movement and began spanking me. He was spanking so hard I began to cry and I heard him say, "Don't ever forget to say 'Yes Sir' when you are spoken to." Sobbing, my ass red and sore again, he pulled me back up in front of him. I was still looking up when he slapped my face hard and said, "Bitch, you know what you should be looking at." My ass and face burned as I looked down to this thick drooping cock. I had no idea how big it would look hard but it did look thick the way it was. "Good girl," he said while moved his hand under my hair and around the back of my neck. "Ok, now I just did a good morning piss which I'm sure you wanted but right now I want you to lick my cock and balls clean." And then with a little force on my neck I began to go down to the floor passing the hair on his somewhat extended stomach till I was kneeling. He played with my hair and ears as I licked his pee from his slit and lapped around his hairy balls. Now, I was told earlier, I was their female. That was how I was to think. And they wouldn't tolerate any thoughts or actions other than such. Then, with just his large hand on my nape, with my stockings sliding under my knees, he turned me effortlessly (although I knew to move in the direction he wanted by his touch) till I was looking at the toilet. The seat was down and there were both dribbles of pee and a few pubic hairs. His voice above said, "Did you leave this fucking seat down bitch?" "Yes Sir," I managed to sob out from the various pains I felt. My ass, my face and the pressure on my neck all made my voice even more docile. I could hear the submissive wisp in my voice as the higher female tones uttered, "What would you have me do Sir?" "Lick that fucking mess from the seat and remember to ALWAYS leave the seat up. This isn't a cunt's house. This is a man's castle. The seat stays UP." Looking at the deep autumn yellow drops as I leaned down to obey him (since that would be my duty from now on) I could smell the aroma of his urine waif up from the toilet into my nostrils as I licked the toilet seat clean. Pubic hairs getting on my tongue and finding ithard to swallow I finally finished. Still holding my neck he said, "Now, lift the seat up," as he let go of my nape and then gave me a slight slap on the back of my head. Not expecting the slap I nearly lost my balance but managed to grab the seat and raise it as I kneeled in front of the toilet with the seat up. "And now bitch, lick the bottom of the seat and as a punishment you will also lick the rim. Not just now but for the whole day. You'll go into the bathroom each time you're not busy and if it's not clean you'll get down on your knees and be the good little maid you were made to be, Comprende? Oh, and when you are done you can flush the toilet for me but I want you to kneel in front of it when you do and put your face over the bowl so you can watch what you missed from me but will be getting from me from now on." "Yes Sir. Thank you Sir, I meekly uttered." Stunned how I was drifting deeper into submission then I ever thought I would. I could hear him in the kitchen as I licked the bottom of the seat and the rim clean. Then, as I was told, I knelt in front of the bowl, leaned my head down and flushed the toilet. Cold urine scented air pushed up his aroma brushing over my face and his pee went down. It went through my nostrils and even my eyes. Nearly tearing as the flush finished I got up, straightened my skirt and white apron. Then I looked in the mirror and saw my lipstick had smeared a little and was thankful I had brought it with me. Then I freshened my lipstick and walked out to the kitchen. As I entered the kitchen he was sitting having coffee at the table. I heard him say, "Good morning cunt. How's our pussy today?" "Fine, thank you Sir," I answered immediately. "Well, come over here and stand by my side," Sir said. I walked (as you know by now femalely) over to him and stood by his side. All of a sudden he slapped my ass twice saying, "Look bitch you always stand by my right side. I'm right handed. If I was fucking left handed you would stand where you are, right? "Y...ee....sss Sir. I'm sorry Sir. I'll remember Sir," I quivered as I walked around to his right side. "Now that's a good girl," he continued as he put his right hand on my inner thigh halfway up. Standing there as he rubbed and played with my thighs and squeezed my ass, I knew what I had wanted to feel like. I was the girl. And, as you know, I was submissive in my dreams and now reality. His fingers rubbed underneath. With the shield there he wouldn't feel my large clit but instead just like I was wearing a thick pad. While he was doing this he was looking at a pornographic magazine. The pictures showed a girl being bound and then put in a cage. I winced. Once in a while he would take his hand away and take a sip of his coffee or turn a page. It was definitely a bondage magazine. And I realized I hadn't said no to that but only to severe pain and wondered how I had missed that. "Hey Houser," Master Cock said as he came into the room. "How do you like our little bitch?" I stood silent as Sir (as I knew him) squeezed my ass again and said, "Yep, you know how to find the best pussy around. Though she'll need a little training before she understands what it means to be our submissive cum slut. But she does have one fine ass. But can it hold a quart of cum?" He squeezed a bit harder on the final words. "Come over here Prissy," Master Cock said. I walked over with my eyes on his cock thinking about the months ago this had started. Nearly a year had passed. All of my fantasies had swirled around inside my head. I'm sure none of you can understand what it's like to be trapped inside something you're not. I'm not gay. I'm not straight. I'm not any description ever written. But, I live (does that mean by Descartes I am?) How different to be in this ocean wearing my sea-green panties, my tongue coated with the taste of a man's urine. Unsure, afraid but nevertheless here. (Ok, if you don't like the poetic dissonance I do. See, this isn't about those who don't understand me but about those of you who do. That means both the doms and the subs who share some of the pleasure ride I'm on.) I walked over to Master Cock looking at his crotch as I did. I became more and more entrapped within the truth. And as I arrived near him I could smell the odor of manliness. It's a pheromone I never did produce. And standing there, Master Cock said, "Prissy you have finally begun to be what you will end these three weeks as." And with that he put his hand on my head and pushed me towards the floor. The motion down was starting to become normal. I went to my black stocking knees with my maid's dress hem never touching the floor. A jolt, I wasn't paying attention, my hair pulled, I hadn't what? I didn't know. "Bitch when you hit the floor on your knees have your mouth open. No one cares about your wants." Pulling my hair till the roots burned I opened my mouth. "Good little whore," Master said as he unzipped his fly with his other hand pulled out his cock and while pulling my head forward slid his large dangling snake into my mouth. He pumped my mouth while talking with Sir. They talked about the World Cup. About how stupid England had been and that now the semi-finals were a Continental affair. As my saliva lubricated Master Cock's penis in my throat I was there but I wasn't. I was a woman but I wasn't. I was a whore but I wasn't paid. What was I becoming? His cock (oh to remember Master's Cock) thickened, hardened, pulsed and moved over my lips, tongue, tonsils and into my throat. I was gagging but I was also sucking. I can't explain it. And after what seemed like an hour, yet I was to learn it wasn't even 9am yet, Master Cock pulled his cock slowly out of my throat, past my tonsils, over my tongue, past my lips and almost immediately began shooting cum all over my face. Gobs stuck to my nose. Much sat on my cheeks. And because most of it was thick, just a little dribbled down my chin and fell between my small A cup orbs and leaked down my cleavage towards my belly button. "Now get up and don't' touch your face. I want you to feel it dry. To smell it," Master Cock said with a condescending tone. And as I rose he turned to his friend saying, "Houser did you bring the rope?" As my mind raced I stood there in my little maid's outfit barely able to see out of my right eye. I didn't know what I looked like but I knew what it felt like. But that loss of vision changed almost immediately as Master Cock opened a drawer in a credenza next to the dining table and pulled out a mirror. "Here, now you can see what you should look like every moment, everyday," Master Cock sneered. I looked in the mirror and saw my face was white glob cum splotched. I took a breath through my nose and some of Master cum sitting at the base of nostril came up through my nasal passage filling it with both smell and texture. Keeping my eyes on Master Cock's penis my peripheral vision saw Sir walking to the door and then I heard him say, "I'll be right back with the rope and my other bag of goodies." A moment after that the front door banged shut. Master Cock started to play with my breasts and pinching my nipples he said how well the hormones had worked. My breasts were exactly the size that pleased him and his friends would like them also. Another comment on how I really did have girly nipples. "The perfect submissive," he said. "Both man and woman, just Perfect!" And as those words brushed across my face I heard the sound of motorcycles. (Ok, some of you are just going to hate this. But, I'm having the time of my life writing it. there is "more to cum.") Country Girl Dominatrix It was early and the small bedroom was dark and cold when she awoke. Fall weather seemed to be coming early this year. Looking at the glowing red numbers on the alarm clock she saw it would be going off in just a few minutes, so she got out of bed. In the kitchen she fumbled through the heap of dirty dishes in the sink and pulled out a coffee mug. After blasting it with hot water under the faucet, she found only half a spoonful of instant coffee was left in the jar on the cluttered counter top and mumbled soft curses about having to do the morning chores while only half awake. It would not be the first time. Zipping herself into some worn brown coveralls and tying her long thick dark wavy hair in a yellow bandanna, she stepped out onto the porch of the tiny cottage and pulled on a pair of floppy rubber work boots. Walking through the early morning darkness, she saw a few warm lights were on in the big house across one of the pastures, but her destination was a single point of harsh blue light, the mercury vapor lamp mounted high on the gable of the horse barn. The usual morning of feeding and watering the horses, and then turning them out of their stalls. Some neighbor kid would muck the stalls out later in the day, a task he did in exchange for riding lessons. "Hey Julia, I heard you teach barrel racing," he had said to her one day, and asked how much she charged for lessons. "You need more experience riding first," she said. Somehow over the few years she had lived at the farm, she had become the barrel racing instructor. No one ever stuck with it for long, but teaching was always a good way to pick up extra cash. Otherwise barrel racing had never been kind to her, despite trying so hard to compete in what seemed like a long time ago. Walking back to her cottage, the sky now starting to brighten, she smiled just a little bit, knowing that she would be meeting Steven later in the morning. They had met last weekend at a festival that she attended every year. Julia had caught a brief glimpse of him and that was all she needed. The young man however, could not keep his eyes off of her. .... Earlier in the week Steven had been flipping though radio stations on his drive home from the office when he was intrigued by a commercial on a country music station. It was for a festival a few miles outside of the city. Old machinery would be on display, and there would be homemade wines and live music. Having nothing better to do, on Saturday he took a drive outside the city limits to a remote corner of an adjacent county. It seemed like there were hundreds of old tractors lined up in rows. He knew names like John Deere of course, but there were others here that had probably been out of business for over a hundred years. There was other farm equipment as well, though he couldn't have guessed what most of it was used for. Some of the tractors and other equipment were rusty and broken as if they had been recently dragged from overgrown fields on an abandoned farm, while others were gleaming like restored museum pieces. There was a monstrous steam powered tractor, looking a lot like an old locomotive, that was set up with a wide flat belt to power a dangerous looking sawmill. Steven had seen it running in the distance when he pulled in, but once he finally made his way to the exhibit, he found the giant circular saw blade had stopped, and the tractor was venting steam in places where it probably shouldn't. A young man was looking out from the cab of the tractor and trying a few of the controls with a look of frustration on his face. A group of old men stood around, trying to give him advice or instruction. Then he saw her, a stunning brunette that might have been about his age, fearlessly standing close to the steaming boiler. At this festival, Julia liked to dress up in her interpretation of an old fashioned country girl. A snug fitting flannel blouse and a knee length skirt made of ruffled tiered denim. She also wore a pair of black leather Victorian style ankle boots, with short chunky heels that were curved like the legs on an old piece of furniture. One of the old men said something to her, and she walked gracefully through the trampled grass in her sexy ankle boots towards an old tool box that looked as if it had been made from scrap planks. She pulled out a massive wrench and walked back to hand it to the old man. She gave some parting wisecrack to the young man at the controls and turned to walk away, her denim skirt whirling around her legs. Suddenly she changed course and walked right up to Steven. "It's going to be a while until they get that fixed," she told him. "Looks like your man is having some problems," Steven replied. "I don't have a man right now, and if I did, it certainly wouldn't be him. That machine has been in his family forever, his grandpa and then his dad used to run it every year, but now his dad is too old and sick to make it here," she said. "You have to fire something like that up weeks in advance and get it working right. Not just show up with it and hope it runs." "It sounds like I need to stick around because this might be the last chance I'll ever get to see it run" Steven said. "Something like that. Is your wife or girlfriend willing to wait around all day?" she asked. "My ex-girlfriend is out of state. Medical school. I'm Steven," he said. "Julia," was her reply, with what might have been a slight forward thrust of her breasts. The two had stood there for a moment, facing each other. It had been quickly established that they were both single and it was more than obvious that they found each other attractive, but the silence was starting to grow long and awkward. Steven was quick to not let that happen. "I thought there was supposed to be homemade wine here," he said, glancing around as if looking for a vendor. "They don't break that out until later," Julia told him. "Come with me. I know where we can get some right now." She led the way through the exhibits of old machinery. "You do pretty well walking in those heels in the grass," he complimented. "I love heels," she said. "Thanks for noticing." "Those are cute boots. I hope I'm not coming across as some sort of pervert," Steven said shyly. "If you have a boot fetish I'm okay with that," she said, but there was no more time for conversation as they had arrived at a grove of mature trees that was serving as a campground during the festival. Julia walked up to an old school bus that had been painted a light brown and looked as if it had been converted into a camper of some sort. There was a group of older couples sittingn chairs under a large roll-out awning. One looked like he was putting new strings on an electric guitar, and another was making some adjustments on a banjo. Almost all of them were holding a glass of wine or had one close at hand. She spoke quietly with one of the men, and then motioned for Steven to follow her inside the front door of the bus. Steven was immediately impressed with the interior. While it would never rival any luxury RV, it was by no means a slapped together redneck's camper. The design of the cabinetry and built-in furnishings was simple yet the craftsmanship was high quality. "Really nice," was all he could think of to say. He stopped by the driver's seat where several cases of wine bottles had been stacked. "Daryl, the man I was talking to, did all the work himself. His wine is even better. Don't bother with that stuff," she told Steven who had pulled a bottle from one of the cases. "It's good, but I'll find something better in the private stock." She went to the galley area and took a bottle of wine from the refrigerator and set it on the counter while she looked for a corkscrew and two glasses. Steven eyed the label, Sauvignon Blanc. It had been run off on a home printer. There was the name of a small town that he knew was to the east, and what must have been a family name, which was something with two many syllables and probably of German origin. "So are you with the band?" Steven asked as they sat on a couch in the front lounge area of the bus. "No," Julia replied flatly. "I know Daryl's parents from when I was little." She raised her glass for a toast. "To our chance meeting," she said, and they clinked their glasses together. Steven would never consider himself to be a wine connoisseur and often found them to be too dry or bitter, but this wine went down smooth with a hint of sweetness. Julia's legs were crossed and she swiveled the ankle of her raised foot, perhaps teasingly showing off her boot. "There's a bit of dried mud on the bottom edge of my heel," Julia told him. "Since you like my boots I'll give you the honor of cleaning that off for me." Steven leaned forward in his seat and rubbed his fingertips around the base of her boot heel, the small bits of mud falling to the soft carpet on the floor. "You need to get down on your knees and make sure its all gone," she said perhaps to tease him or as a dare, but he was actually thrilled to hear her words. Julia was reasonably sure he would play along with her for a while, but was surprised when he quickly knelt before her, cupped her ankle in one hand and gently raised her foot towards his mouth. He didn't just lick the heel of her boot, he caressed the gentle curves of it with his tongue, and then began to give the black leather uppers the same treatment. Julia eased back on the couch, sipped her wine, and before he could finish worshiping her boot, she pulled it away and raised the other to his face. Julia was well aware that a lot of men had a fetish for women's boots and shoes, especially anything with a tall heel. However, it was rare to find a man that was so willing, one with real enthusiasm for worshiping her boots. The fact that they had just recently met and here he was, on his knees, licking every inch of the soft black leather, thrilled her. "I like it that you wear your hair long," she told him, pulling her foot away from his face and brushing back his shoulder length light brown hair with the toe of her boot. "It's almost a seventies look, but I still think it's cool." She propped that foot on his shoulder and thrust the first boot back in his face, reclining more on the couch and taking another sip of wine. Julia noticed that Steven's hands looked a bit soft, so he probably worked in an office. Without the long hair he might even look like a geek. Probably in his mid to late twenties and a bit younger than her, it looked like he was in good shape, though his loose grey sweatshirt hid his physique. Just then they heard someone pushing open the folding front door of the bus. Steven quickly joined her on the couch and snatched up his wine glass moments before a middle aged lady he had seen outside came on board. She didn't say a word to them but he thought he detected a frown on her face when she saw the open wine bottle on the galley counter. The lady walked towards the rear of the bus and entered a small compartment to one side, which he assumed was the bathroom. "Perhaps we should be going," Julia said. A short time later they stood beside an old machine with two heavy unguarded flywheels that spun rapidly despite the heavy looking motor only firing sporadically. They sipped their wine from tall styrofoam cups that Julia had taken from a cabinet in the bus's galley, and emptied their wine glasses into them along with the rest of the bottle before they stepped outside. "What is that thing?" Steven asked, regarding the old machine. "It's a one-lunger," Julia said. "You could run water pumps and all kinds of farm equipment with it. On another topic though, it's nice to meet a man that takes his boot fetish seriously. You strike me as being a bit submissive, worshiping my boots like that without me ordering you to do so." She thought she detected a bit of color momentarily flush across his face. "I decided a few years ago that any time I met a woman I liked I would be open about my fetishes and fantasies. My ex-girlfriend was cool about that, sometimes wearing high heeled shoes or boots with lingerie in the bedroom," Steven said candidly. "She would even do this domination fantasy for me. Put on this shiny black vinyl dress and spank me with a ping pong paddle. It was a real turn-on for me and always led to some hot sex." "So then why is she your ex?" Julia prodded. "Did she like to play too rough for you." "No," Steven replied. "In fact, she was afraid to hurt me too much because she loved me. I got her to whip me with a belt a few times but that was too extreme for her so I never got the really hard whipping that I wanted." He then explained that while she had a good job as an x-ray technician, she had gone back to school to become a radiologist. "She was several hours away. We tried to make it work, but the distance, her studying, we didn't even last a year," he explained. "Well, it's a shame things didn't work out for you," Julia said. "But then again you are probably glad you got to live out your fantasies. It's probably a smart move, getting those out on the table early on so you don't waste any time with a woman who is put off by that." Julia went on to tell him that she thought of herself as a lifestyle dominatrix. "In any relationship, I like to be in control. I don't need to keep a boyfriend on a short leash like some women do, but when we are together he has to do as I please." Steven had no response but seemed to be hanging on her every word. "You're used to domination as a type of foreplay," she said. "I can give you that belt whipping that you want right now, but that is all it would be. When it comes to sex, I move slowly. We would have to be going out for a while before I'd be willing to jump in the sack." "I wouldn't want to do that right here," Steven said with disbelief, gesturing to the meadow filled with machinery and people. "Of course not," Julia said bluntly. "But I know a place that we can go. Follow me." Julia once again led the way through the machinery exhibit, this time picking up a gravel lane that was headed towards some bordering woods. She set a comfortable pace in her low heeled boots. Although she was excited at the prospect of whipping a submissive man's ass, she kept her emotions contained and kept any conversation casual. "So what type of work do you do, Steven?" she asked. Steven told her that he was an architectural designer, and worked for a large firm downtown. It was his second job since he graduated from college. "So you know what copings and flashings are, right?" Julia asked. "Yeah, that's trim pieces for roofs and stuff," he replied. "I work for a sheet metal fabricator and we make stuff like that for roofing contractors," she said. "I'm a sales rep and put together cost estimates. My company is on the east edge of town and you probably drove by that area on your way out here." "Do you live here?" Steven asked as they came to a rusty chain across the road where it entered the woods, and Julia blatantly stepped over it and it's hanging No Trespassing sign. "I live on a farm a couple of miles away," she answered. "But I know the owners so it's okay. Now move it because we don't want to attract any attention by going back here." Steven could see there was a building of some sort almost completely hidden by the thick trees just around a bend in the gravel road. Stepping over the chain and following Julia, he was surprised to see that the building was actually an old railroad caboose. "This is so cool," he exclaimed. "When I was a kid I used to play with my friends down by some railroad tracks. We weren't supposed to go down there but that just made it more exciting." Steven had learned early on that red cabooses with a cupola on the top were only in kids' story books. This caboose was a real one. Green, with bay windows on the sides. Judging by the streaks of rust and that trees had grown up around it, the caboose had probably been here for a long time. "There's no train tracks. How did it get here?" he asked. "The legend is that it was dropped here during a tornado in the fifties. A few trainmen were still in their bunks and never felt a thing. A pot of coffee was still warm on the stove," was Julia's answer, but she wasn't interested in any more of Steven's questions as she was now busy feeling for something up under the steps to the rear platform. The look of frustration on her face suddenly faded away as she pulled out a key which had been hidden out of sight. The interior was painted an institutional battleship grey, and while it looked spotlessly clean the air smelled faintly of cigarette smoke and spilled beer, as if a group of people had partied here last night. Julia led the way past some bunk beds that were on either side of the aisle, and towards the front of the caboose. She stopped in the middle where there was more open space, bay windows on either side. She turned to face Steven, who had been following closely. "Hand me your belt," she told him in a low firm voice. Without a word he removed his belt, which was wide and made of light brown leather. In Julia's hands it felt soft and smooth to her touch, yet was rigid enough that she knew it would offer good control. Without even being ordered to do so, he had turned his back to her and lowered his jeans and boxer shorts. "You sure are a brazen little hussy, dropping your pants like that. Did I tell you to drop your pants?" she asked in a raised voice. "No," he said quietly. Julia grabbed him firmly by one shoulder and spun him around to face her. "I have only one rule, and that is you will do as I say. If I want to see your bare ass I'll tell you so. Do you understand?" she asked, giving him a killing stare. "Yes ma'am," Steven said quietly and began to pull up his pants. Julia couldn't help but notice that his penis had already started to get erect. He clumsily stuffed it inside his pants. "I want to see you naked," she told him. "Don't just drop your pants. Take off all your clothes." "Yes ma'am," Steven quickly responded and once again dropped his pants, stumbling briefly as he bent to unlace a pair of fairly new looking hiking boots. "Say yes, Miss Julia," she corrected. "The only responses I want to hear from you are yes, Miss Julia, or no, Miss Julia. If by chance I ask a question like, what is your favorite color, your answer might be, yellow, Miss Julia. Do you understand?" "Yes, Miss Julia," Steven answered, now completely naked with his clothing either on the floor or one of the seats by the bay windows. Since entering the caboose, the tone of her voice had become stern and authoritative. The contrast of the dim interior with harsh sunlight penetrating through the surrounding trees, coming through the windows in small random beams, made for a surreal atmosphere. Realizing now how vulnerable he was, Steven feared that the situation had quickly spiraled out of control. For Julia everything was falling into place. It had been years since she had been on this part of the farm and she wasn't even sure if the old caboose was still here and intact. Remarkably the key had been hidden where she remembered it. The owner had always threatened to take the key away if people vandalized the place or didn't keep it clean. Steven was ready to go as well. All too eager to take his whipping, she had fought to keep a cool façade as he removed his clothing. Breathing deeply now, Julia circled around him, boot heels clicking on the floor, herding him towards one of the bay windows. "What's the safe word?" Steven asked. "Miss Julia," he added hastily. The safe word. Of course. For him this was a game. "You can say mercy, Miss Julia," she said with disgust. "But I expect you to take your whipping like a man. Now stand there and grab the window ledge." Country Girl Dominatrix Steven had barely gotten into position when Julia cracked the leather belt loudly across his ass. He flinched and made a quick gasp, but otherwise seemed to take it well. He felt the sharp snap of pain and could envision a warm wide red stripe across both cheeks of his ass where the belt had landed. It seemed that their session had started a few seconds before he was ready, and the next crack of the belt also struck before he expected it, painfully landing with confidence and perfect aim. Unlike Nancy, Steven's ex-girlfriend, Julia seemed to have no inhibitions when it came to giving a whipping. He tried to hold as still as possible and not cry out, though it was impossible not to flinch after every sharp strike of the belt, his own belt which was now being used against him by some country girl dominatrix. Steven wanted to take it like a man, but while she seemed to be slowing her pace, each snap of the belt blazed with new intensity across his now burning buttocks. Julia could feel the perspiration on her skin beginning to dampen her flannel blouse. Was it the stagnant air inside the caboose, the physical exertion, or her excitement? She lashed the belt across his reddening ass again, this time backhanded from left to right. It's not too hard to find a submissive man, one who is willing to talk about his fantasies of being dominated, but she had learned over the years that it was best to take advantage of that situation as soon as possible. Find a place for a spontaneous session and see if he is really willing to go through with it. Whipping Steven harder now, she saw him jump a bit more with each strike of the belt and she listened closely to the increased hiss of his gasps. He had yet to cry out in pain and seemed to be taking his beating better than most. Precious. Seeing his pale naked body with his buttocks turned a dark red, cornered in the bay window, Julia's knew she was completely in control. At times like this her focus tightened and any problems she might have were far away. This was her world now, where she ruled. Steven couldn't help but give a loud grunt as he was struck with another heavy blow of the belt. Was she going to whip him until he cried for mercy? He had to take his hands off the window sill and brace himself against the wall. Julia paused her whipping and he was afraid that he had pissed her off by moving without being ordered to do so. Perhaps the session was over. Then the wide leather belt snapped down across his right shoulder blade. The pain was so piercing and unexpected that he cried out in pain. It was so easy for Julia to get carried away at times like this, making her first session with a new man her last. She had learned over the years to keep herself under control, but it was still difficult. A man with a taste for pain like Steven made it all that more difficult. A devious thought had crossed her mind and she whipped the belt down upon one of his shoulder blades. He cried out, but not for mercy. Still, Julia realized she was pushing things a bit too far. It was then that she remembered to stoop slightly and look around the side of her obedient submissive. She had an ulterior motive for having him stand here and she glanced out the bay window towards the path which led into the clearing. No one was coming, but Julia knew there was the risk of some couple who knew of the caboose slipping back here for a romp in one of the old bunks. How long had they been here? Julia could feel her sweaty clothes clinging to her body, and Steven's ass had clearly taken enough of a beating, but she wasn't ready to turn him loose just yet. "Get on your knees," she ordered. "Yes, Miss Julia," Steven responded quietly. While he was glad that he had gotten the whipping he'd always wanted from a beautiful woman, it had been tougher to endure than he could have imagined. He was glad that it was over and only too happy to comply when Julia sat in the old swivel seat that was bolted to the floor near the bay window, and ordered him to worship her ankle boots. She seductively crossed her legs and poised a boot in front of his face, then began to sip wine from her cup. Steven had finished off his wine before entering the caboose. Although he had a good buzz on from the strong homebrew, after the intense whipping he felt alert and sober. He started by licking the gently pointed toe of her boot, the soft black leather somewhat gritty on his tongue as it must have picked up some dust on their short walk. Steven worked his way slowly back to the short curved heel. "You probably wish I was wearing some spike heeled boots, don't you," she taunted as he gently kissed the dusty heel. "Yes, Miss Julia," he answered. "I wear high heels to the office all the time. Shoes, boots, I'm sure you'd like to lick your way through my collection," Julia said. Although Steven had an erection when he knelt before her, as Julia started to tell him how she knew that men were fascinated by high heels and loved how sexy they made a woman look, she could see his penis swell a bit more and give occasional involuntary throbs. He also started licking her boot with greater intensity. Glancing out the window and seeing that she still had time to play with her new submissive, Julia presented him with her other boot. "Obviously I couldn't wear stilettos out here, walking through the meadows," she told him. "These work well though. Easy enough to walk in, but still a bit on the sexy side, don't you agree?" "Yes, Miss Julia," Steven mumbled, not breaking his tongue's contact with the low shaft of her boot. "Now hold on just a minute," she told him and suddenly placed both of her feet on the floor. Steven looked up at her. "I'm not going to have you dripping all over my floor," she scolded while looking down at his penis. She was still holding his folded belt in one hand and raised it slightly from her lap. Steven glanced at his hard cock, which was now oozing cum from the tip. To his surprise, Julia raised one foot off the floor and slowly traced the toe of her boot up the underside of his erection, lingering at the tip of the head and swirling around with an amazingly light and stimulating touch. He moaned with pleasure and knew that if she didn't stop he was going to cum all over her boot. Much to his frustration, she stopped rubbing his penis with her boot and held it up to his face, the toe now lightly coated with his cum and shining like black patent leather. "Lick it clean," she ordered in a low snarling voice. Steven didn't hesitate, and the light salty taste was soon gone as he continued to worship her boot again. Julia knew that at this point he was completely mesmerized by her. She took delight in lightly teasing his cock some more with the toe of her boot. "Tell me, Steven. What do you think is the sexiest pair of high heeled shoes that a woman could wear?" She asked, feeling his cock twitch on the tip of her boot. He described for her a pair of peep toe pumps in black patent leather, with tall stiletto heels and a platform sole about an inch thick. "All the young hussies are wearing shoes like that now," Julia said. "I suppose it's a good look but I won't wear platforms to the office. I don't think they are professional. Perhaps we should get together again, go shopping for shoes, and you could buy me a pair," she suggested. I'd wear them just for you." Steven could feel that she was now gliding the side of her boot up and down the underside of his hard cock with increased speed and pressure. "Yes, Miss Julia," he squeaked, his mouth dry, eyes blurring, and on the verge of a powerful orgasm. He was shocked when Julia suddenly stood up and ordered him to put his clothes on. "Don't even think of touching it," she warned, brandishing the belt as Steven looked down at his swollen erection that had been seconds away from erupting. "Please let me cum, Miss Julia," he begged, clenching his fists together and looking into her dark eyes. She stepped behind him, moving swiftly. He heard a brief whoosh of air and then the belt smacked loudly on his sore buttocks. "Now do as I say and put on your clothes!" Julia commanded. He fumbled for his scattered clothing and put it on as slowly as he dared, hoping his erection would subside enough to comfortably get inside his jeans. Trying to get his mind on anything else, Steven looked towards the front portion of the caboose, which looked like it might be original with a built-in desk and primitive galley. He noticed the stove top had a low rail around the edge, which might have helped to keep the coffee pot from sliding off when the caboose was picked up and moved by that tornado. No, that had to be a bullshit local legend. "I enjoyed borrowing this," Julia told him as she handed him his belt. She had already locked the caboose and hidden the key. Wasting no time she began to walk back towards the festival grounds while Steven threaded his belt through the loops on his jeans and hurried to catch up. When they exited the woods they didn't see anyone wandering around through the machinery. Almost everyone had congregated at a far corner of the meadow where a healthy plume of steam was rising in the air, the steam tractor evidently having been brought back to life. When they made it to the exhibit, Steven saw an old man at the tractor's controls and another with a short grey beard holding a long-necked oil can, carefully watching some moving parts on the side. The sawmill itself, while it must have been a great timesaving machine long ago, still required a lot of hard work to load logs and operate. All the while the giant circular blade and wide belt connected to the tractor spun without any guards or shielding, ready to grab an arm or loose piece of clothing. Julia was not impressed. She had seen the machinery run many times over the years. Instead her mind drifted back to not long ago when Steven had been kneeling before her and begging to have an orgasm. He could have easily touched himself, just a few strokes of his penis would have been all that he needed to ejaculate, but he didn't. He could be a real treasure, she thought, and her private parts began to feel warm again. Although she would have liked to have touched herself for her own release, there was no time or place here. That would have to wait until she got home, maybe as she lay in bed alone and waited to fall asleep. Julia would be able to replay the day's events in her mind with vivid detail. That would be just as good. The tractor and sawmill didn't run for much longer before one of the older men gave a signal to shut it down. Steven overheard one of the men telling the young fellow, who had been standing dejectedly off to one side, that he would have a good project to keep him busy over the winter. The couple then made their way to small grove where tables and chairs were set up and homemade food was served, and the wine tasting began shortly afterwards. Steven had noticed that a lot of families were there at the festival and he asked if she had any family in the area. Her answer was simply, no. Although he tried to engage Julia in some more conversation, she was now coolly aloof. He knew that she grew up in this area and seemed to know a number of people. The owner of the steam tractor, the wine maker with the camper bus, and whoever put that caboose back in the woods. However, while it seemed that most of the young adults here had married and had a few kids, Julia was still single. It occurred to Steven that there might be a good reason for that, but then again he was holding out for the right woman. No need to get married any time soon, and certainly raising a family could wait until later. Although he knew that some live music would start soon and a bonfire would be lit at dusk with more homemade wine served, it seemed to Steven that the mood had cooled and it was time for him to leave. He was actually a little surprised when Julia asked for his phone number. "I do want to get together with you again," she told him. "After all you promised to buy me a pair of shiny black platform pumps. I'll call you later next week." She refused to give Steven her own phone number or an email address. On Thursday she had called him and they made plans to meet at a mall on the east edge of town. Shopping for shoes, though Julia hinted that they might find something else to do. .... The sun was starting to come up when Julia walked back to her cottage. The old propane heater mounted in the wall between the living room and bedroom fired up easily. It was a temperamental piece of junk, so Julia was pleased. She stripped off her work clothes and pulled on a long terrycloth robe and stepped into some old but comfortable slippers. Standing, looking at one wall of the tiny bedroom, she remembered how it originally had a single shelf with a clothes rod beneath it to serve as a closet. Over the few years that she had lived here rent free in exchange for chores, there had been plenty of money for clothes and shoes. Borrowing tools from the farm's workshop and using whatever scraps of lumber and pipe that she could find to build a closet organizing system of some kind, the entire wall was now covered with an amazing wardrobe. A good portion of her wardrobe had been purchased on clearance or from outlet stores, but no one needed to know that. This was the wardrobe of a successful career woman. A far cry from the secondhand castoffs she wore when she was little. Julia would be meeting Steven at the mall several hours from now and she would take her time to pick out the perfect outfit to wear. It should be sexy enough to arouse him, without being too naughty to wear while shopping. He would buy her those hussy shoes. Not just another pair of heels to add to her collection, but a pair that made him weak. Julia was delighted with thoughts of tormenting him with those shoes. They could be used to give him both pleasure and pain. So perfect. She couldn't wait. A note from the author: For anyone who enjoyed the story, there was a previous series featuring Miss Julia and you can find those stories here. In chronological order they are: Off-Road Goddess, Paddled In the Boondocks, Lunch With A Dominatrix, A Painful Test, and She Takes What She Wants. Country Girl: The Beginning So, here I was, waiting in the back corner of the garage, the door to the empty bay open. The night-light illuminating the front reaches of the garage. The garage lights were off. Instead, in the shadow of the corner, I waited for him to come. Nearly a year ago I had met Master Cock on-line. This was a unique chat room, one where submissive wannabe transvestites could meet dominant men for on-line fantasy eroticism. I had been coming to this site for a few months while enjoying wearing panties and a bra, talking with dominant men and masturbating. Often I would put my small cock (then it was nearly 4 inches but has shrunk since the hormones) down between my legs and rub as if it was a pussy clit. Anyhow, it seemed to be enough for my hidden thoughts. I grew up a bit slight for a male (5'5") and was almost hairless on my body. Although I had sex with girls while a teenager I often daydreamed of being the one hunted and not the hunter. It was a strain trying to be masculine with my dates when I wanted to be submissive. I thought I'd eventually find the right girl who understood but instead dating went from seldom to never. Now that I was 26, all I was doing sexually was visiting this chat room, buying some feminine clothes and strutting around my house in the closet, so to speak. I had stopped dating altogether nearly a year before this and could only ejaculate while thinking of being used by a man or a group of men. I had a pair of high heels and loved wearing them. I had actually gotten quite good at walking and swaying. I also had a small amount of make-up. You know, like lipstick, stick on nails etc. Already over the months in this chat room I had virtually submitted to several men. (I know what you're thinking. Who knows whether they were men or boys or whatever.) It didn't matter because in my mind they were men. They were big men, masculine men and they came in black and white, fat and lanky. As I said, I am sexually submissive with a desire to be used and abused. At least my on-line persona enjoyed this to many strong orgasms. Whether I was willing to go further was about to be tested. So, in October of 2005, I was on-line. My 'nom de net' was Prissy. I liked the name since it sounded like Sissy which is the way I think of myself. Around 8pm that night someone (who as you've guessed is Master Cock) told me to join him in a private chat. During the next week I opened up completely to him. Telling him all my private thoughts and those things I had no interest in (more on this later.) By the end of the week I was already beginning to submit to his words. I would quiver waiting for him to come on-line. He always demanded I be there waiting and he was always late by a different amount of time each encounter. There on the screen, that Friday night, were the words, "do you know what a web cam is?" Of course I knew but I had not bought one. I wanted the anonymity the chat rooms afforded. But, at that instant I knew I was moving into uncharted waters when I answered, "Yes Master Cock." By Saturday night the web cam was set up and I waited for him to come on line. I waited nearly 40 minutes and thought as the time passed, "what am I doing and where will this lead?" After a half hour I thought he wouldn't come at all and everything had just been a hoax. I said to myself I would wait until a full hour was up and that was all. Perhaps that was the last dominant thought I would have from that point on. When he came into the chat room he signaled me to turn on the camera. He did not reciprocate. I was wearing only pink panties and matching bra but I had not done anything else feminine; no nails and no make-up. My light brown hair was a bit long but nothing feminine. For a little while he didn't say anything as I sat in front of the camera with the red light blinking wondering what he was thinking. I was nervous, afraid and excited all at the same time. After what seemed like an eternity he typed the following, "you are quite pretty. From now on you will always be fully feminine when you come on line and when I think you are a good little cunt I will let you see me. You will do what I ask without question. If not, I'll be gone and this will be over. If you do well then perhaps all your dreams will come true. I want you to practice your voice to become as feminine as you can because we will add audio to our little journey soon. From now on you are a cunt to be used by me in any way that pleases me. Your pussy is for me to use as I see fit. Do you understand?" I answered quivering, "yes Master Cock." "Good, from this day forward you will wear panties only whether you are inside and outside your home. Tomorrow buy enough panties to last you and throw out any male underwear you have. You are a cunt and your cunt should be covered with panties and only satin panties. And from now on when you go to the bathroom you will sit to pee. Cunts pee and make poopy. You will call your clit a tee-tee like any girl would do. You will no longer buy any magazines other than girl magazines and you will eat like a girl. Do you understand?" "Yes, Master Cock," I typed erratically. "Good, be a cunt every moment you can. You must always think like the submissive little cunt you are. The sooner you become that cunt the sooner you will be ready for what you have desired for so long," he replied. "Oh, buy a short nightgown to sleep in. Learn to keep your nails nice. Use an emery board" Over the next month we started getting on line much more frequently. I had become so overpowered with this whole thing I had actually given him my real name and address. When I told him I worked from home he told me to let my hair grow long and when I went out I could wear in a pony tail. (When it finally grew out over the months it never looked manly when I went out. I could feel the eyes of people but I didn't care.) Master Cock would send me pictures of clothes he liked and if I could afford them to buy them and wear them. So, by the end of that month I had two outfits. One was a short plaid pleated skirt with white cotton blouse and white knee high stockings with black Mary Jane shoes Under the skirt I wore white satin boy shorts (those are girl frilly panties for those of you that don't know) and a white training bra. The other outfit was a short red dress that I bought from Frederick's of Hollywood. I had matching red stockings with garters. Master Cock didn't like pantyhose. And of course my pink panties and matching bra I wore with this and red heels. I had spent nearly $1,000 on all of this so far but I had plenty of money and I was enjoying myself. What else did I have to spend it on? By this time Master Cock controlled every orgasm I had. Sometimes he would watch me and other times he would tell me when and what I should be thinking. At the end of about a month a small package arrived in the mail. When I opened the box there was a wrapped package inside and a note from Master Cock not open it and for me to email him of its arrival. Shortly after my email Master Cock instructed me, by email, to meet him on line that night with the package unopened by my side. I was to wear the school girl outfit I had bought. This time he didn't make me wait more than a minute or so after the 8pm time he had designated. He asked if I had the package etc and then took my breath away when he said, "I am going to turn my web cam on now and you will be able to see me." A few moments later a little video screen opened on my computer and there he was. You'll be surprised, he wasn't some Adonis but instead was hairy and overweight (not humongous you terrible readers). He was a bit repulsive but he was my Master Cock and my thoughts fell instead on my submissiveness as I looked at him. He was definitely hairy and manly. He had already told me he was 6'3" but he looked like he weighed over 240 lbs. I on the other hand had been eating lightly over the month on the diet he had prescribed and was down to 138 lbs. Master Cock told me, as he unzipped his fly and pulled out a limp cock that looked over 8" long hanging there; if I was ever going to get to suck it there were several things I would have to be do first and the package was the beginning. He said, "I should decide now whether to stop or go forward?" But once going forward if I objected to anything from this point on he would disappear. He didn't coerce me. Often I had imagined someone would have something on me and I would have to their bidding or else; such as stories about 'caught with consequences'. But, no, here I was making my own decision. Sealing my fate by my secret desires I meekly typed, "I agree Master Cock." He then typed, "Prissy you are to get a 'mic' as soon as possible. We will talk as well as type from now on. And, now take out the package and unwrap it. But I want you to concentrate on my cock on the screen at the same time. From now on you will only look at my cock unless instructed otherwise. I will email you some pictures that you can frame and put up around the house. I'll tell you where. Now open the package and tell me what you see." I unwrapped the package and saw a box inside. It was about 8 inches long and 2 inches on each side. I thought I knew what it was (and I know what you girls are thinking) but instead once it was opened I could see it was a large bottle of pills. I typed that I had opened the package and saw the bottle of pills. Master Cock asked, "Do you know what they are for?" Of course my reply was, "No." Master Cock then said, "You will never reply no and you will always use the respectful Master Cock when replying. Instead of no you will say things like, "will you tell me Master Cock etc. No is not in your vocabulary when speaking to men. As a cunt your reply is always willing. Either a yes or whatever you want Master Cock etc. Otherwise you will be punished. You will be spanked. Do you understand?" "Yes Master Cock, I understand," I uttered. "Will you please tell me what the pills are for Master Cock?" The words came over the screen as I saw him touch his cock. He typed, "They are female hormones. You are to take one with a meal each day. I will send you more before they run out. Over the months you will form small breasts. Probably an A cup if we are lucky. I don't want them any bigger. Only you and I will know. In time, when you are ready, we will meet." Standing in the corner in my garage waiting for Master Cock to arrive I felt my tee-tee move a bit in my white panties. I was wearing that outfit with the short pleated skirt, white blouse, knee high stockings, Mary Jane's and my white boy panties and white demi bra. My hair was now nearly shoulder length, dyed blond and was styled very feminine with a plaid bow (matching my skirt) on the right where my part was. My finger and toe nails were manicured and painted red to match the red in my scotch pleated skirt. I was wearing Intrigue (perfume you men reading this.) I had a small bag packed. Master Cock had said all I needed was my makeup bag and tampons. Everything that I would need would be provided. I now weighed about 132 lbs and my shape had curved a bit from the hormones and I now had small A cup breasts as Master Cock had predicted. I had small areola more masculine then feminine but my nipples were bigger and definitely female. It was 8:05pm, Friday, June 16, 2006. He was already 5 minutes past the time he had said for me to be ready. I was taking a three week vacation. I had informed the home office and they had assigned my accounts to another salesperson until I got back. It was a great job. I simply called accounts and they placed orders which the home office filled and I was paid. My time was mine. And a vacation was way overdue. I hadn't had one for nearly three years since I started working with them (where would I go by myself?) and I was one of the most productive salesmen (I guess now salesgirls). It made me think of my voice. The training and hormones had made it possible for me to sound between an alto and soprano. I didn't sound very masculine even before but now I could sound a bit passable. My mind turned back to the time between the hormones and now. During this period I had become quite feminine in my manners. The hormones had helped but also the magazines, TV shows, food etc that Master Cock had picked out for me. Outside of work during this period he controlled all my other time. He had sent me a butt plug which I would wear to get use to what would happen when the time came. One time he had me watch as he masturbated and came. I couldn't believe how big his cock had grown. Nor could I believe the copious amount of cum he produced. It was over two tablespoons and maybe even three of white gobs of cum. This did not include his pre-cum. When I came I didn't even fill a teaspoon. I never knew until now the difference between myself and men. After a few months he had me set up various web cams throughout my home and he had done the same. He would watch me when I went pee-pee and he would make me watch as he 'took a leak' or 'took a piss'. Once he filled a large 2 cup measuring cup with his pee. His pee was so dark yellow. It looked so strong. The diet I was on made my pee very light. The only liquids I was allowed was water and sometimes tea, a light green tea. One time he put a web cam in the toilet and peed right on it. What I saw was him peeing on me. He asked me what I thought. By then I had learned to say I was there to please him and if it pleased him it pleased me since I was his cunt girl. When spring came he once came on-line and told me some friends of his wanted to look me over. He asked me if I minded. Actually he said, "Cunt, I have some men here that want to see my little pussy girl. Are you ready?" What could I reply by now except "Yes, Master Cock." All of my web cams were on but Master Cock and his friends were just in front of one. (He had turned off his others for this meeting.) I could only see the men from the neck down and they had their cocks out. There were about six of them in sight. The one to the right of Master Cock had a huge beer belly and a not so big cock (well compared to Master Cock's.) He looked like a beer drinker and I could see tattoos on his knuckles. Also I saw two black men with long dangling cocks. One was longer then Master's. Master Cock said, "Hey pussy, show the men how you pee and after that show them what you do so your pussy doesn't leak. And when you walk, sway as if you have a bucket of cum in your pussy so the men can see how you jiggle. By this time we had audio connected as well and after I peed I put a tampon in my ass, oops, I mean pussy. I walked back to the computer and turned and walked around. I noticed some of the penises were starting to straighten up. It was at that moment I thought I heard someone in the back say something like, "she'll do fine." A few days later I would learn what this all meant. Of course what it meant was why I was standing in the garage. It was 8:15pm and the lights of a car turned into my driveway and the car slowly pulled into the garage. I trembled. I hadn't met Master Cock before. The only name I knew for him was Master Cock. I didn't know where he lived or anything else. The lights lit me up like a deer in the head lights. Over the months he had emailed me pictures of him, his cock, his cum, his ass, his pee and had me print them out as 8"X10"s and frame them and put them up around the house where he said. By this time I didn't have anyone visit me anymore. More and more I just had groceries delivered and rarely went out. I guess I was a closet queen (joking). I was amazed how far I was going with all of this but I couldn't stop. If you knew how I felt you'd understand. If you don't you probably think I'm just weird. But the desire to be that submissive girl and this guy willing to fulfill the need took away all the boundaries. His cock picture was on my mirror in my bathroom and another on my vanity. He had told me to put the picture of him peeing in the large measuring cup on the wall opposite the toilet. And, several cum pictures were placed around my bedroom. One large gob of cum picture sat on night stand by the alarm clock. Master Cock allowed me to rub my clitty and cum as long as I was looking at one of these pictures. He had also sent me a small enema bulb and had me start (what he called douching my pussy) shooting a mixture of water and scent in my butt, holding it for at least 10 minutes while doing other things and then sitting down releasing it. It became part of my daily ritual. Shortly after the scene with the men he talked with me one night (as I said we had audio then) about the future. He wanted me to be ready in June to go to his cabin for my vacation and to be his cabin slut. I was to expect friends of his would be there and for the first time he asked me, instead of telling me, if I had any reservations to "tell me now." So I told him there were a few things I just couldn't tolerate. I said I didn't want any other girl or submissive to be there since I would be ashamed. (Can you believe that? But it was true.) I also was not into a few things like scat, cigarette burning, whipping, torture or any severe pain. He asked about spanking and I said I thought I could take a good hard one. He asked about caning and I said I wasn't sure how much I could take but it was ok as long as the cane wasn't torturing me. Nervously I told him any other reservations I had and he said these wishes would be resolved in an agreement, which I would read on the drive to the cabin. If I was OK with the agreement I would sign it and we would continue to the cabin. If I weren't then everything would end during the ride forever. But, Master Cock said, "most submissives want to be in some control but in order to really be what he said I wanted to be, once I signed the agreement and we got to the cabin I would not be allowed to object to anything any male asked me to do that was not on the excluded list. The car pulled up and stopped. Master Cock rolled down his window and said, "Prissy, put your suitcase in the back and get in." I followed his instructions and as the car backed out of the garaged I used the garage door opener and closed the door. As the garage door went down I could see my past as I now sat in the present wondering about my future. The house looked dark and as the car pulled into the street I felt my old life completely slipping away. I was very nervous at this moment and then I heard Master Cock saying, "Here Prissy," and he handed me several pages of a typed agreement. He continued, "Turn the reading light on and read it out loud as I drive. You should be aware there will be no changes. You will either accept this in its entirety or this escapade will end. When you are finished you will either have your last choice for the next two weeks or I will drive you back home to dream your life away.. "Contract between Master Cock and Prissy," This was heading. I began to read it out loud as the car drove away from my neighborhood. I seemed to read it slower then necessary both out of nervousness and because it was an important document. To me this was more than a very 'important document,' it was putting me on a course of action often dreamt of, but now almost real. I read the following, "As we have agreed there will be no other women on this trip at the cabin. There will be no scat. There will be no diapers. There will be no burning, candle wax, fire play. No whipping. No fisting. No asphyxiation. No electricity. No permanent tattoos. No needles. No torture, etc." The car continued along. I was reading and not paying attention to what direction we were going. I continued, "This is what is expected of you. You will be always be female in all your manners at all times. You will be expected to clean the house including the bathrooms. You will do all the laundry. You will keep kitchen clean and the dishes put away. You are expected to do every girly task there is. These will include cleaning the men's underwear by hand and other expectations, which you will learn. You will always keep your eyes on male genitals at all times. You will answer yes to everything unless given permission to say no. Otherwise the only answer other than yes will be 'whatever pleases you.' When you are spanked you are allowed to whimper or cry but you will not yell or scream. You will not swallow any deposits without permission. You will have bathroom behavior control (which means you will have to ask to go and you may or may not be given permission. A further understanding of this will be explained at the cabin.) Your diet will be controlled. You will only read what is in your room. You are expected to douche every morning (and when anyone tells you to)." Country Girl: The Beginning I looked up for a moment thinking about what this all meant. It wasn't much different then our net meetings but this was real. It was happening. As I looked out the window I noticed we were now on a dark country road. I wondered how long we had been driving. (Although the reading part is quite short in this story the time that had passed was much longer. Call it writer's largesse or believe what follows.) There were several reasons for this. One of which was when Master Cock asked me to repeat a sentence and then would ask me if I understood it. There was to be no misunderstanding. No chance to say I didn't understand. We turned down a dirt road driving through a forest, I continued, "You will keep your make-up fresh as often as possible. You will not wipe off semen until given permission but you may use perfume. You will not start a conversation and you will not act gleeful. You are the only sub and it is expected you understand that position. This means no laughter, giggling etc. You are expected to be used but you are not a part of the social gathering." The car continued and the road seemed to end and we were driving on what looked like a forest floor and then into an open field. I hadn't noticed what kind of car this was but obviously it must have had four-wheel drive as we drove up a rough field somewhere away from everywhere. The car came up to a moderate sized log cabin and stopped. Master Cock said, "Well finish reading it now and then sign it. You can stop everything right now and I'll turn around and take you back. But then again you can finally do for real almost everything you've imagined and some things you haven't thought of. But at this moment, this is your last decision either way." I looked down at the final part of the agreement and read, "Finally, we promise that you will not be physically hurt in anyway and hopefully we will all have gotten what we wanted, pleasure, release and memories because memories are better than dreams." Underneath it was signed Master Cock with the catch all phrase of "all those coming to the cabin over the next three weeks." To the right of Master Cock's signature there was a line with the name Prissy underneath for me to sign. Master Cock turned and handed me a pen. I took it and because of the part of 'not being hurt and memories are better then dreams,' I signed it with a minimal amount of hesitation although I hadn't contemplated what the entire document would really mean until later. I just knew this would be the only time I'd ever have to turn my dreams to memories. "Good," Master Cock said, "Now let's go in." He got out of the car walked around to my side and opened the door for me. I felt so feminine but I also knew this may be the last time for any acts of chivalry for the next two weeks. He took my small suitcase and put his hand under my elbow and immediately I realized why. My heels began to penetrate the soft ground. I had to walk tippy toe to the steps. As I began to walk up the steps Master Cock let go of my elbow and in nearly one motion put his hand up my skirt on my ass and put his finger in my crack. I nearly stumbled. I began to turn around and he pulled his hand back and slapped my ass hard and said, "You must not turn unless told to." and then slapped me again. I fell forward a bit on the last step but didn't fall down. My ass stung and we walked to the door and went inside. Now, I know no one reading this wants to have the long story of what happened next so I'll try to make it as short as possible. Master Cock took my hand and walked me through the cabin. There was his room that had a queen size bed and private bathroom. There were two other bedrooms. They shared a bathroom outside there respective doors in the small hallway. Unusually there was no door on that bathroom and the toilet faced right out into the hall. A small-enclosed shower, sink and mirror completed it. Each of these bedrooms had four bunk beds. And finally a small room with a single bed which was mine. In my room were a small vanity table, chair, side table, mirror and a closet. Inside the closet were various outfits including a mini skirted maid outfits (more than one). From what I could see all the other outfits were skirts or dresses with shoes under them. Master Cock said all my personal stuff would be in the vanity draws. The hallway was very short maybe eight feet and opened into a large living room, kitchen and dining area. This area was completely opened. The kitchen had a bar countertop over looking the dining area. Three stools sat on the other side of the countertop and behind them was a large round dining table with six captain chairs. The set up looked like it could serve both dining and a card game. Especially since there were both a round holder of chips and a deck of card sitting on the table at this moment. The living room had a wrap around sofa, a fireplace with a plasma screen TV above it and other furniture. Off the kitchen was a door that opened to a small laundry area with another door that opened to the outside. This was definitely a well-outfitted hunting or fishing lodge. A fully stocked bar was in one corner of the living room. The living room was large enough to accommodate the ping-pong table, which had a pool table underneath. On the ping pong table were four paddles and a ping-pong ball. There was plenty of room left in this large open area. So when you looked around you saw everything. Actually it was one giant log cabin room with a vaulted ceiling and the kitchen, dining area, recreational area and living room had just seemed to be placed in it. "I'll be right back so why don't you look around," Master Cock said, as he went into his room. So, as I walked into the living room I noticed a stack of magazines on the large coffee table in front of the sofa. They were all pornographic. I felt my inner thighs tremble again. Walking to the left of the fireplace and plasma screen I noticed a bookshelf filled with pornographic DVD's. Well I wasn't really surprised. I knew why I was here and I had seen these magazines before having watched numerous porn films some of which were with transvestites and transsexuals. (Don't act so surprised. You didn't think I was a mental virgin also. Did you?) I walked into the kitchen and besides the refrigerator and pantry I didn't see where there was enough food for three weeks. (I would learn later there was another small provision cabin outside the door by the washer/dryer and also a clothesline out there as well among other discoveries.) Just then Master Cock came out his shirt was on but he was naked from the waist down. Taken by surprise I had looked up. "You're such a dumb blond cunt," he said as he grabbed my arm forcing me to bend over and with his other hand he lifted my skirt up and started whacking my ass. Whack, Whack, Whack, Whack, Whack.... while Master Cock said, "look you little pussy you are not to ever look at anything on any male except their cock unless told otherwise," and then Whack, Whack, Whack...I started sobbing with a little whimper as he let go of my arm and told me stand up. As I stood up I made sure I kept my eye on his big cock. He was so much bigger and stronger then me that all of it had happened without my even having a chance to struggle. His smacks were full and my ass was stinging as he said; "Now you'll suck my cock and not swallow for one hour while you get yourself accustomed to your room. Tomorrow morning at 8am you will be on duty for the next three weeks. In your vanity draw is a booklet, which will explain more of what is expected of you. But most you'll learn from the dvd's, listening and spankings." Master Cock clicked his fingers and I went down on my knees and opened my mouth. So this was it I thought as he put his cock in my mouth, grabbing my ears and he started pumping my mouth like a pussy. As he did so he continued, "Now you'll remember when I want to fuck your mouth you'll just keep it open without any teeth touching my cock. If I feel a tooth you'll get a spanking after. No one is asking you to do anything but be a cum receptacle. If we want you to do something, we'll tell you." Then he slapped my face and said "Lean your head back so my snake can go down your throat." I leaned back as best I could but I was gagging as his hardening cock pushed past the back of my throat. He didn't even care. He just held my ears and pulled me onto his cock as a tear fell from my eye hitting my stinging cheek. Before I knew it his balls were hitting my chin. Somehow his cock had gotten down my throat. I was trying to throw up but he kept his cock there. Breathing through my nose he continued fucking me. I didn't know if this was what I wanted or not but it didn't matter anymore since I had signed that papers. I didn't even know where I was or how I would leave if I could. And then he pulled his cock back out of my throat into my mouth and started spurting his cum. Load after load filled my mouth until he stopped and pulled out. "Ok you little pussy bitch show me your reward," he snickered as I opened my mouth and showed him his deposit. "Good, now down on all fours," he continued and of course I complied. He grabbed my hair and pulled me forward as I held the cum on my tongue my mouth closed. And, then he lifted my skirt up and spanked me five hard whacks. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! And then he let go of my hair and told me to walk on all fours like the bitch I was to my room and to remember this was just the beginning. Sobbing I went to my room like a dog and when I got in he closed the door. I stood up, sat down on my bed and cried. But with his cum on my tongue my tears just reminded me of what lay ahead. This was what I wanted, wasn't it, I asked myself? After about 10 minutes I went over to the vanity and opened up the drawers. The top left drawer was filled with various skimpy and colorful panties and matching bras. Some were thongs and others were bikini. All were satin. The drawer below it was larger and contained garter belts. There were different colors matching the panties above. And finally the drawer below contained many sets of stockings of different colors as well. On the top right was the booklet he had mentioned. In the title area it said, "Prissy's Book." I left it there sitting in the drawer. I closed the drawer and opened the drawer below. This was filled with various butt plugs, lubricants, cuffs and other things. And the drawer below that contained various collars and leashes. I shuddered. I had known this might be the case and had even had a few orgasmic fantasies about such when I was at home. But the feeling when you are there, when it is real, is so much different than any fantasy. I got up and went to the closet. Inside there were several outfits but all of the maid's outfits had notes on them. The first one said, "You will wear this tomorrow morning. Your book will explain what else you will wear." On the floor in the corner of the closet was a stack of magazines. I picked some up and saw they were Glamour, Cosmopolitan etc. Also there were some porn magazines. Some of them were guys with girls. Some were guys with transvestites. And some were really nasty including a group about "water sports." Next to the magazines was a box. I opened it and there was a note and a small DVD player and about a dozen DVD's. The DVD's didn't say what was on them but the note said I should watch them over the next week. I should watch the one marked ONE first and then another each night. I could see they were marked from one to twenty-one. I took the box out of the closet and brought it near my bed. I looked at the alarm clock next to the bed and saw I still had about 15 minutes of keeping his cum in my mouth. The alarm clock sat on a small end table, which had a lamp on it and three drawers. I opened the top drawer and there was an accordion file folder. In different compartments were those tattoos you could put on and they wouldn't come off for over a week or so. Some said 'cunt.' Others said "fill this up" or "urinal". There were many others. More and more I realized the fact of signing. That now I was to be the submissive with no choice to say stop or I won't do that. And they had gotten around the 'no permanent tattoos' so easily it may me fearful about everything I just signed. The hour had finally passed and I started to try to swallow but I gagged a bit. So, I stopped for a little while composing myself and then Master Cock's cum slurped down my throat into my stomach. Getting up I picked up my makeup suitcase and brought it over to the vanity. I took out the booklet and looked for a nightgown or something to wear. Going back to the night table I opened the other draw and it was filled with skimpy teddy's and matching panties. Little frilly nightgowns mingled with them. I took out the flimsy blue see through nightie, put in on, and saw it barely covered the top of my ass. I looked for a pair of bottoms but there were none. None of the nightwear had bottoms. When I thought about washing up for bed I remembered the only bathroom was just outside my door to the right between the doors to the two bedrooms for guests. And now I remembered the door was missing and from now on I would have to use the same bathroom. I felt my neck fill with goose bumps. Next to the lamp was a box which said, 'Open This Now.' Inside was a butt plug and a note that I would wear this plug every night I slept in this bed. * My idea is to continue this with each part being either each day such as Day One or simply Week One. I think though it will be Day One etc. Please leave comments and thanks for reading my stories. And a special thanks to those that like them. Country Girl Visits City Girl 2009 had been a terrible year for me, I didn't get my promotion, my husband left me, and I gained twenty pounds. Well maybe I gained the twenty pounds and then my husband left but that's still no excuse. Therefore, you can imagine I had high hopes for this year but to tell the truth it hasn't been too good so far either. Then I got the bombshell from my mother that her sister wants to send my little cousin to stay with me a while. My aunt and my cousin Lucy live out in the country, and to say Lucy is naive is like saying democrats like to spend money, you know, an understatement. Mother wanted me to look out for her and the reason well; my dear sweet mother said it best when she said, "You can take a simple girl out of the country but you can't take the simple out of a country girl." I told mother it was all right, it's not as if I had a life or anything. I hadn't been with a man since my husband left and even then, he wasn't much of a man. At least instead of sitting home alone, I'd be sitting home alone with my cousin. I picked Lucy up at the bus station and I couldn't believe how much she'd changed since I saw her last. Oh no, she was still dumb as a fence post but now she was dumb and she had giant knockers. Does god think it's funny to give you brains or tits but not both? When Lucy saw me, she came running up to give me a hug, her double Ds crushing my single Bs, it was like a Hummer rear ending a Hyundai. Of course, she had to rub it in, "Why Cousin Stacy, aren't you the cutest little things, those boobs of yours never did grow, did they?" I changed the subject, "What would you like to do on your first night in the big city?" "Oh I can't do anything tonight Cousin, I got a date." Now wait just a damn minute I sit home alone eight nights a week and my loopy cousin has a date as soon as she gets off the bus. Well turns out it was before she got off the bus. She met Enid, (Enid, What kind of a name is Enid) on the bus and I guess they got to know each other real well on the ride to the city. OK so I know I told my mother I'd watch out for Lucy but the girl is twenty years old and if she old enough to pick up some guy on a bus, she is certainly old enough to go out with him. I know, when Lucy told me she was meeting Enid back at the bus station for their date I admit it I did see a little red flag go up and yet I still did nothing. It was after I dropped her off at the bus station that my rational thought over came my petty jealousy and I realized I let a young naive girl go out with a man she didn't really know. Too late to do anything now so I went home to worry. By midnight, I was ready to call the cops by One I did call them and they laughed at me and said to call back in forty-eight hours. At two-thirty Lucy came waltzing in with a smile on her lips and a song in her heart. "Where the hell have you been, I've been worried sick." Isn't that what my mother always said to me when I came in around this time? "Oh Cousin, I can't tell you how lucky I am to have met Enid. I found out tonight he's a magic wizard." Of course, you know I scoffed at this, what else would a sensible person do? "Oh no, it's true he proved it to me, he even has a magic wand. Don't laugh he showed it to me and I know its magic cause it grew right in my hand. No, it's true, I swear, it looked like a little worm and then he had me hold it and it grew into a rod hard as steel." Uh oh, "And just where did he keep this magic wand, it wasn't in his pants was it?" "Why yes, how did you know? But you have to listen, Cousin; he saved my life with it. He had me take off my jeans so his wand could examine me and when he waved it over my, you know my privates down here..." She indicated her vagina as if I might not understand, "And when he did that it made me feel weird so I told him and he said his wand would fix me. And this nice man had me lay down in the back seat of his brother's ford and you're not gonna believe this he got that wand of his to go up inside me. I knew it's a workin because I was startin to feel real nice inside there. Now here's the sad part I think I broke his wand cause he kinda grunted like he was in pain and all and then when he pulled his wand outa me it was all wormie looking again. Oh yeah I guess his wand is all full of white sauce cause I had it all up in me when he was done." OK where could I start and before I could say a word, she says, "There musta been a lota sauce in that wand cause when it when inside me it was at least ten inches long but when it came out it was only about six." "Ten inches you say, uum I wonder do you think his brother is single?" Country Girls Edie Trudeau was at the kitchen sink doing the dishes following Sunday dinner when she looked out the window and saw her father walking through the back yard toward the old tool shed. She smiled wickedly and licked her lips as she saw the rolled-up magazine that was just peeking out from the pocket of his overalls. "I know what you're up to," she said out loud in a sing-song voice. She gave him a few minutes to get to the shed and get started then she dried her hands and slipped out to follow him. Her cunt was bubbling, and she could feel the slippery heat seeping into the thong panties she wore under her tight jeans. She quietly sneaked over to her spot, to the open knothole that was almost perfectly positioned to give her a straight view of her father seated on his old office chair. A desk lamp was on, beaming down on the magazine that lay open on the desk in front of him. Edie gasped in excitement as she saw her handsome father with his overalls bunched around his ankles and his nice fat cock hot and hard in his hand. Charles Trudeau was engrossed in what he was doing and didn't hear anything from outside the shed. He slowly worked his throbbing meat up and down with his left hand while turning the pages of his favorite sex magazine with his right hand. Since his divorce 10 years earlier, this had become his favored method of sexual release. He was a quiet, hard-working man, a machinist for the paper mill in town, and he didn't have much of a social life, being devoted to raising his two daughters and keeping his small house in the country. While he sometimes masturbated in his bed at night, just to get to sleep, he much preferred the excitement, the forbidden thrill, of coming out on a Sunday afternoon and taking care of his business. And, really, the house was too small for him to hide behind his bedroom door in mid-afternoon, especially if one or both of the girls were home. However, that was also part of his fantasy. He wasn't sure what he would do or how he would react if one of them caught him doing what he was doing, but the possibility of his sexy daughters discovering his secret drove him almost to madness. Charles groaned at the thought of Edie's or Aimee's taut naked body in front of him. He imagined them together, holding each other, caressing each other, as he suspected they did when he was gone to work and they were home alone. He swirled a flow of pre-cum around the head of his throbbing, purple cock at the shocking images of incest that ran through his fevered mind. He could feel the cum boiling in his balls as he rhythmically stroked his dick imagining that he was fucking one or both of them. Edie had to stifle a groan of her own as she knelt by the side of the shed. Her left hand was wedged between her legs, caressing her jean-covered crotch. She fervently wished Aimee could be there with her, to watch the show with her, to stroke her hot pussy and make her come. But Aimee was at work, at the part-time job she had at the supermarket in town, and that would have to wait. Nevertheless, Edie made a silent vow that as soon as her little sister got home, she was going to get what she needed. She quietly unbuttoned her jeans and slid her hand inside. She nearly swooned when her middle finger caressed her hard little clit and she felt the well of juice flow over her hand. Charles was almost there, as he flipped the pages of the magazine and drank in the images of the young girls getting all of their horny holes filled with hard cocks. Faster and harder he stroked, until at last he felt that crackling sensation that he knew was the onset of his climax. With a loud groan, he squeezed his dick hard, then leaned back as a fountain of cum exploded out the end of his cock. The pearly white cream splattered up and down his naked virile chest as he milked his cum from his throbbing, twitching cock. Then he slumped back on his chair in satisfaction, but also in some remorse. He missed the soft touch of a woman, but the pickings for a man his age in this isolated area were pretty slim. And he hated himself for having such wicked thoughts about his girls, but he couldn't help it. They were so beautiful and so sexy and they were so devoted to him, that he couldn't keep the thoughts of lust away. Edie groaned softly in frustration as she watched her father's awesome display of cum. The thought of his hot cock giving her pleasure unending had driven her close to an orgasm, but she hadn't quite gotten there. Now, she really was going to have to attack her sister, and at that point she didn't care if Charles found out or not. As she thought about what she was going to do when Aimee got home, a sly smile creased her face. She stood up, buttoned up her jeans and quickly, but quietly, walked back to the house, and as she did, a plan began to form in her mind about how they could finally get what they'd always wanted, their father's cock. Edie and Aimee had always been close like that. They had been born almost exactly 11 months apart, Edie in September and Aimee in August, and because of the way their birthdays fell, they had started school at the same time, had gone through school together and had graduated together nearly a year earlier. From their father they had inherited a bit of shyness, at least to those on the outside. Edie was a little more outgoing than Aimee, but they had both always been loners, a little outside the social mainstream in their school. But from their mother they had gotten a deep well of carnality, a strong desire for sex. Their mother, Simone, had been a city girl, but Charles hated the bustle and pace of urban life. He had gone to work as a machinist at a factory after high school, because of the high wages. While he loved his work, he was miserable in the city, and he was reluctant to raise his girls there. When Edie was 6 and Aimee was 5, he had convinced his wife to move to the country, into the small house he'd inherited when his father had died. As miserable as Charles had been in the city, Simone had been miserable in the country. The house was a good 20 miles from the nearest town and quite isolated. About a year after they'd moved, she'd started going to town one or two nights a week. She'd said she was bored to tears and craved a social outlet. Charles was working hard, plus he'd started a vegetable garden, and he wasn't much of a drinker, so he'd had no desire to go with her. Before long, she was going out virtually every weekend, and it didn't take a genius to figure out what was happening. For two years, Charles turned a blind eye to Simone's antics, hoping she'd come back to her senses, but finally he'd had enough. All things considered, the divorce had been relatively amicable. Simone basically just wanted her freedom, wanted to go back to the city. All Charles wanted was custody of his girls. That had been 10 years ago, and Edie and Aimee had rallied to their father's side. Charles had always been devoted to his girls, and they had reciprocated. They had taken over the job of keeping the house, fixing the meals, all the things a housewife was supposed to do. They both had part-time jobs in town, but they considered taking care of Charles and the house their main occupation. They had each had a few boyfriends in high school, and each had lost her virginity at around the same time. But the guys who found Edie and Aimee attractive were kind of nerdy, and the few truly studly types at their school ignored them, because they were quite girlish. Even now, at the age of 19 and 18 respectively, Edie and Aimee didn't look a day over 15. They both stood right at 5-feet tall and they were both slender, with the dusky skin of their French-Canadian heritage. Edie had straight black hair that she kept cut in a very boyish cut, full lips and a devilish look in her dark-brown eyes. She wasn't skinny, but she had almost no breasts. Aimee's hair was a little curlier and she had a trifle more on her chest then her sister, but not much more, and while Edie's eyes spoke of mischief, Aimee's brown eyes were more sultry, speaking of unfathomable depths of passion. In high school, the girls had fooled around with some of the guys in their own social class, and had developed a disdain for the snobs and jocks. But they quickly realized that none of the guys at school could touch their sexy father, and none of the boys could please them sexually the way they could each other. Almost from the time they reached puberty, Edie and Aimee had experimented with sex with each other. They'd always shared a bed, since the small house only really had two bedrooms, and they had taught each other the basics of sex. It had taken them awhile to see Charles as an object of fantasy, but as they reached their late teens, they began to understand that he had sacrificed whatever social life there was to be found in their part of the country to be a father to them. They realized, too, that he was quite sexy, standing about 5-8 and well built from his years of hard work at the mill, and from working in their garden. He was still a fairly young man, at age 42, and he had sandy-colored hair that was just beginning to go gray, with steel-blue eyes that seemed to reach into their souls. It was Edie who had first discovered what her father was doing on his Sunday afternoon excursions out to the shed, about a year earlier, and she had quickly brought Aimee over to join her. They had already begun to talk about Charles in sexual terms, and when they started watching him jack off in the shed, it had crystallized a lot of deeply-held feelings for their father. Charles sighed as he cleaned himself up. He slipped his T-shirt back on, pulled his shorts and overalls back up and placed the magazine back in the desk drawer with all the others, locked it and walked slowly back to the house. He knew he should get out and maybe try to date, but he'd become so set in his ways and he was so afraid of rejection that he contented himself with masturbation and shockingly illicit thoughts about his daughters. But that would never happen, he told himself. He figured they'd be repulsed by the idea alone, and they wouldn't be interested in an old man. Edie was back at the sink when Charles came back in the door, and she gave him a disconcerting look as he passed. She finished the dishes, and as she did, she decided to push things a little to see where they went. Charles was seated in his favorite chair watching a ball game and reading the newspaper when Edie walked into the living room from behind him. He was startled when she bent down and wrapped her arms around his shoulders from behind. "Daddy?" she began. "Can I ask you an, um, intimate question?" "Sure, sweetheart," he answered. "How come you never tried to remarry after Mom left?" Edie said. She was trembling with lust, and it was all she could do to keep from reaching down between her father's legs and grabbing the object of her desire. "I don't know," Charles said. "I guess I was just so hurt by what your mom did, and I was trying to be a good father to you girls. I don't know, maybe my standards are too high. I never wanted to settle for just anybody. You know, I loved your mom. She was funny, beautiful, sexy, and after I'd had her, it just seemed like the women around here didn't measure up." "Well, I can't believe she'd want anyone else after she'd had you," Edie said. Charles was starting to become aware of his daughter's nipples boring into his shoulders. For a woman with almost no breasts, Edie had a fairly fat pair of nipples and they were on high alert. She never wore a bra around the house, and the tips were showing dark and promising through the tight tank top she had on at the moment. He was also getting a little uncomfortable at the conversation. He rarely talked about his time with Simone, because it always brought back unwelcome memories. He'd been deeply humiliated by her adultery, and had convinced himself that it had been his inadequacies that had driven her away. To her credit, Simone had never talked bad about Charles, especially to the girls. For awhile, they had made an annual trip to the city to spend some time with their mother, but after she had remarried and they got older, they stopped making those trips. Simone still sent birthday cards and called on holidays, but that was about the extent of their relationship with their mother. "I don't know, I guess she wanted things I couldn't give her," Charles said, finally. "Well, I think you're the sexiest man in the county," Edie said. "I love you, Daddy." "I love you too, sweetheart," Charles said, as he reached around to give Edie a hug. As he reached up, he looked up just in time to get a clear view down the top of his daughter's shirt at her tits, with the brown nipples tight and swollen. It was just a quick look, but it was enough. He turned away quickly, blushing in embarrassment, but his cock lurched in his pants. "I, uh, I couldn't have made it without you girls," Charles said hesitantly. "You've been a real blessing." "Thanks, Daddy," Edie said as she stood up and headed off to her room. "You're the best." Just before she turned into the short hall that led to her room, Edie turned back to look at her dad, and their eyes locked for just a second. Edie flashed Charles that devilish grin that always set his heart aflame, then she disappeared around the corner. Charles just groaned and squeezed his cock in frustration. But as he thought about it, he realized that there was something odd about the conversation he'd just had with Edie, about the look in her eyes as she'd walked away. He knew that look, and it was a look of desire, of naked lust. For him? Surely not, he thought. Nevertheless, the encounter buoyed his spirits. The fact that his young, sexy daughter had said he was the sexiest man in the county made him feel quite good, even if he thought she was bullshitting him. Edie leaned against the door and ran her hands down her front. Her nipples tingled and she groaned in frustration. She looked at the clock, and saw that she still had a couple of hours before Aimee got home. Screw this, she thought. She was at least going to have to take the edge off her arousal. She pulled the tank top off and tossed it aside. She swept her hands over her tiny titties and squeezed her super-sensitive tips. Little jolts of lust cascaded through her body from the feeling of her fingers on her nipples. Sighing, she pulled her jeans off and lay back on the bed in just her panties. She pulled the gusset away from her crotch and slid two fingers between the dripping-wet lips of her well-trimmed cunt, before rolling her clit around with her middle finger. She gasped as sparks of passion exploded through her body, and she pressed on, swirling her clit with the middle finger of one hand, while sliding two fingers of her other hand into her hungry pussy. How she wished her daddy would burst through the door and fuck her with his hot hard cock, and she imagined him taking her, the way she had so many times before. Just the thought was enough. Edie arched her back as a very nice orgasm rippled through her body. She shuddered a couple of times from the sensations, then felt her body relax. She rolled over onto her slide and dozed off, momentarily sated. Aimee Trudeau could feel the heat bubbling between her legs as she drove home from work. She was frustrated from the dead-end job and the fact that she'd had to spend the first nice Sunday afternoon of the year there. She'd have much rather spent it watching her father in his shed, which she just knew he'd done. She felt waves of arousal at the vision in her mind of Charles leaning back in his chair stroking his hard cock – and of her sister running her hands between her legs as they knelt by the shed and watched him. She smiled as a good-natured pang of jealousy swept through her at the knowledge that Edie had gotten to see the show that she'd had to miss. Aimee loved her sister, and her father, and she knew Edie was equally devoted to her, and to him. It made no sense to her that they could have such feelings for their father and not be allowed to express them. The idea of the three of them living as a menage a trois appealed to her well-developed sense of nonconformity, especially when she realized how sexy Charles really was. She reached between her legs and rubbed her jean-covered mound. She could almost feel the waves of heat radiating from her crotch. Then a bump in the highway brought her attention back to the task at hand, which was staying on the road and making it home safe. Edie was up from her nap, and had dressed and put on the lipgloss that Aimee just loved. She liked to look good for her lover because it made her feel sexy, even a little slutty. She was sitting at the kitchen table reading a book when she heard Aimee pull up to the front of the house in the little pickup truck they shared. "Hey, beautiful, what's up?" Edie asked as Aimee came through the front door. "Oh, the same old, same old," Aimee replied wearily. "It's a job. What about you?" "You know what I did," Edie said with a lascivious grin. Aimee's eyes immediately brightened and she sat down at the table to get the full scoop. "Where's Daddy?" Aimee said. "He's out working in the garden," Edie said. "Baby sister, I think it's time we turned up the heat in this house, time to cut the crap and get what we all know we want." "But do you think he'll go for it?" Aimee said. "I mean, Daddy's a pretty quiet guy." "You'd be surprised," Edie said. "Think about it. He had to have something driving him if he was able to get Mom to fall in love with him, for however short a time it was. Hell, he talked her into moving to the country, and we all know how much she hated it out here. Besides, I know I turned him on today, because I caught him stealing a glance down my shirt, and I swear I saw his cock jump. I'll bet if he catches us, um, together, well, there aren't many men who'd be able to resist." "You do have the devil inside," Aimee said as she stood up and embraced her sister. "Speaking of which, I've got plans for you later." "Don't make it too much later," Edie said as she retrieved Aimee's dinner from the refrigerator. "I'm about ready to burst over here. I want you soooo baaaad." "Hold that thought," Aimee said as she gave Edie a quick, but full, kiss on the lips before taking her plate and putting it in the microwave. It was getting dark by the time Aimee finished her dinner and Charles came in from the garden. He was grimy and sweaty, but Aimee gave him a big hug anyway. Charles felt a chill run down his back as his younger daughter held the embrace just a trifle longer than usual. They exchanged small talk for a little bit, then Charles announced that he was heading off to the shower and then to bed. After his shower, after getting into his sweats and crawling in bed, he lay back, unable to sleep. He could feel a certain nervousness, a certain excitement in the air that hadn't been there before. He was restless, aroused at the possibilities that had presented themselves that day. His cock was tingling, in spite of the workout he'd given it that afternoon. He squeezed it tight, hoping to stem the tide of arousal. Just then, he heard the door to his daughters' room shut and he could hear their voices. It was a warm spring night, but it was still a little early for the air conditioner, and the windows in both rooms were open, so their voices carried easily into his room. He listened and as he did, his cock stiffened into a throbbing hard-on. Aimee was sitting up on the bed, painting her toenails when Edie came in and shut the door. Aimee had on just her bikini panties and the spaghetti-strap T-shirt that was what she usually used for a bra. Country Girls Edie just stood inside the door, staring lustfully at her sister. This was a game they had played countless times, but never before had the stakes been so high. If she was right, their relationship and the relationship with their father would change irrevocably, in the way they'd always wanted. Aimee looked up and was captured by the look in Edie's eyes. She just stared as Edie pulled off her shirt, the dusky skin of her chest gleaming in the reflection of the bedside lamp. She strutted slowly toward the bed while unbuttoning her jeans and letting them slide down her legs. By the time she reached the bed, her jeans were in a pile on the floor and all she had on was her thong panties, wet and fragrant with the renewed juice of her arousal. "So tell me what I missed," Aimee said. "Was it as hard as always?" "Harder," Edie said as she knelt on the bed and gathered her sister in her arms. Their lips met and they kissed with the familiarity of lovers of long standing, their tongues jousting and their lips quivering. Edie reached down and pulled Aimee's shirt up and they broke their embrace as she pulled it over her sister's head and tossed it to the side. They kissed again as their hands found each other's breasts. Although they'd never been blessed with much in the way of tit flesh, they had been amply compensated with extremely sensitive nipples, and they played with each other's nipples as they each feasted on the other's mouth. Panting, Edie finally broke free and began to tell Aimee what she'd seen that afternoon. Charles lay back stunned at the knowledge that Edie had been watching him earlier, and at the knowledge that it wasn't the first time either of them had watched. The girls slid down onto the bed, their bodies taut in arousal. Edie took the lead and swiftly slid her sister's panties off her butt and down her shapely legs. She shivered in lust as she saw the gleam of Aimee's cunt shining through her fat cunt lips, the whole package framed with the magnificent bush that she loved. Unlike Edie, who trimmed her pubic bush back quite a bit, Aimee let her bush go, resulting in a thick, dark carpet of curls that Edie loved to run her fingers through. She thought it was so sexy, the way it covered Aimee's whole crotch area. Edie slid her own panties off and the sisters writhed together on the bed, their hot flesh clinging together as they embraced. Their fingers slid between the liquid lips of their pussies and their gasps and moans filled the room. Aimee's arousal was at a fever pitch, and she pressed Edie's head downward to get her sister's mouth to where she wanted it. Edie took the hint and she slid back down the bed, capturing Aimee's stiff pink nipples between her glossy lips, all the time telling her sister about their father's cock, and how it had turned an angry purple just before it spewed a fountain of hot creamy cum. She slithered her tongue down Aimee's flat stomach, then settled in between her sister's legs. She inhaled the aroma of Aimee's arousal, the wet heat of her pussy, and it was intoxicating. Charles stroked his cock with purpose as he listened to his daughters make love while Edie told Aimee what she'd seen that afternoon. Then he was hit with a bombshell that stopped him short. "Imagine that I'm Daddy, eating your hot little pussy," Edie panted as she swiped her tongue up Aimee's hot gash. "Ohhhhh, yeah, lick my pussy, Daddy," Aimee moaned. "Lick my cunt and make me come!" Edie really went to work then, licking Aimee's slot, sucking her clit and burying her lips in her pussy. She made a sloppy meal out of her sister's cunt, and Aimee responded with loud, incoherent cries and moans of passion. As she ate her sister with all of the experience she could muster, Edie's hand was under her own body, briskly stroking her own pussy, keeping herself at a high state of readiness for when it came for her turn to get the benefit of Aimee's hot mouth. And that moment was rapidly approaching, as Aimee writhed on the bed in a rapidly mounting climax. She clutched her tits in her hands, mauling them really, as the sizzle of passion drove her into near-oblivion. She trembled hard once, twice, then she felt it, a hard thud in the pit of her soul and with a loud cry she came hard on her sister's face, her body shivering as the waves of orgasm rolled through her. Edie lapped up all of the pungent juices from her sister's climax and sucked her pussy slowly, lovingly. She honestly never got tired of pleasuring her baby sister, her closest friend and confidante, her true companion in life. Aimee pulled Edie's face away from her trembling pussy, every nerve in her crotch tingling in the afterglow of lust. Next door, Charles was still working his cock, still waiting for what he knew would be the climax. He knew Edie still hadn't gotten her share, and he sensed that she'd be very vocal indeed. And she was. Instead of lying on her back, Edie lay on her stomach, with her butt in the air. She knew just what she wanted, what she often wanted when just having Aimee eat her pussy wasn't enough. She wanted her father to know, too, just how nasty she could be when she got in the kind of mood she was in at that moment. Aimee knelt behind her sister and slashed her tongue up her cunt from behind, then rolled onto her back, grabbed Edie's butt and brought her sister's pussy down onto her mouth. Edie rode her sister's face hard, and she kept a running commentary the whole time. "Oh yeah, Daddy, fuck your baby, fuck her good," Edie chanted. "Oh, Daddy, I want your cock so bad. Please, fuck me with it." Aimee slathered her tongue all over the dripping pussy that was sliding over her face. She worked her lips around Edie's clit, and was rewarded by a jerky motion that signaled imminent climax. But Edie wasn't ready to come just yet. She lifted her pussy off Aimee's face, rolled onto her side and gave her sister a smoldering stare. "Fuck my ass, Daddy," Edie panted. "C'mon, Sis, pretend you're Daddy and fuck my ass with your fingers. Please? Make me come. You know how much I love it when you fuck my ass." Again, Edie got onto her knees, with her head on her pillow and her butt in the air. Aimee knelt behind her sister and pulled Edie's sweaty butt cheeks apart. She licked all over the puckered brown hole, poking it open with her tongue, all the while rhythmically fucking Edie's sloppy cunt with her fingers. Edie reached back and gripped her butt cheeks with both hands, opening herself up and giving her sister a wider target. "Come ON," she whimpered. "Fuck my ass! Please!" Aimee didn't make Edie wait any longer. Keeping two fingers pressed tightly together, she pushed her way into Edie's backside, and the howl of lust could be heard throughout the house. "Oh! Oh! God!" Edie cried. "Fuck my ass, Daddy! Fuck it! Ummmmmm! Ahhhhhh!" Aimee had two fingers churning in Edie's ass and two in her pussy, double fucking her sister in time with the delirious noises spewing from Edie's mouth. Charles was groaning, writhing in his bed as he fought back the gusher of cum that was right on the precipice of release. But his control was no match for the obscene noises his daughter was making as his other daughter brought her to a frothy climax. Edie's sweat-slick body shimmied and shook as Aimee worked her fingers in her sister's crotch. Her hand was covered with Edie's juices and her other hand was working her own clit toward a second, smaller orgasm. Just then, the pitch of Edie's cries changed ever so slightly. She seemed to teeter on the edge of madness and then it hit her like an avalanche. Her body shuddered and her head lolled from side to side from the power of her orgasm. As he listened in awe to the animal sounds coming from his daughter, Charles felt the crackle of cum as it raced through his shaft and exploded out the end of his cock. He covered his chest in white-hot cum as he squeezed out his orgasm. Finally, he slumped back on his bed, sated and satisfied. Next door, Aimee had enjoyed her own little climax as she watched the awesome display of lust from Edie. At last, she pulled her hand away from her sister's crotch and they slithered their satisfied bodies together. Grinning, Aimee slowly, lovingly licked her fingers clean of the juice from her sister's orgasm the lay beside Edie and the embraced, languidly. "I love you, Sissy," Aimee whispered in Edie's ear, as she reached over to turn out the lamp. "Oh baby, I love you too," Edie murmured as she fell asleep. The next evening, Charles came home from work to the aroma of a delicious dinner and the even tastier sight of his daughters in the kitchen. With their tight T-shirts and tighter shorts, they were a walking wet dream, and they made an elaborate show of hugging on their father and buttering him up. After he went to bed, he again heard the sounds of Edie and Aimee having sex in the next bedroom. He squeezed his cock and stroked it several times, then made a decision. They weren't the only ones who could play the tease. If they wanted him, they were going to have to wait until he was ready, until he had the time to do it right, to give his daughters the kind of fucking they'd never forget. As he rolled over and fell asleep, he wore the smile of a man who was about to see all of his fantasies come true. The same pattern repeated itself the next night. Only this time, instead of locking the bathroom door when he took his shower, the way he always did, he left the door cracked, and sure enough, as he showered, he heard the sound of the door being pushed ever so slightly open. Edie gave a sharp intake of breath as she saw the naked figure of her father through the clear plastic shower curtain. He had his back to the door as he soaped himself, giving her a clear view of his butt and his legs. The girls had seen Charles' cock many times, but they'd never seen him naked, never seen his round butt, tight legs and muscular back. For at least the millionth time, she wondered how her mom could have ever wanted anyone else. Charles deliberately let the bar of soap slip from his hands and bent over to pick it up, so that his dangling cock and balls were visible through the curtain. Edie felt a hot flush flow through her body as she quickly stepped back and pulled the door close, but not all the way. The next night, it was Edie's turn to give her father a little look. She waited until after dinner to shower, then "accidentally" let her towel drop as she walked from the bathroom to the bedroom. Charles just stared as he saw his daughter's tight slender body as she bent over, picked up the towel and held it in front of her as she dashed into her room. The next night, Thursday, it was Aimee who gave her dad a show. She called Charles in to change the light bulb in their closet, and he walked in to see her standing with just her panties on. Her back was to the door as he came in, but he could see her reflection in the mirror over the dresser, giving him a view of her tight little titties. He just smiled as he apologized for barging in on her before she was dressed. That night, as he lay in bed, Charles was in agony. His cock was a purple iron rod, and his mind was a feverish brew of incestuous thoughts. His desire for his daughters was about to consume him, and it had affected his work, distracting him to the point where even his co-workers noticed. He strained his ears to hear what was going on next door, but the weather had turned cool and the windows were closed, so he didn't hear anything. Next door, Edie and Aimee were just lying together in the dark talking, trying to decide who was going to make the first move. "What do you think he's waiting on?" Edie said. "I mean, it's obvious he knows, you can tell from the look in his eyes." "And from the way he's been touching us," Aimee said. "He's always been affectionate, but he squeezed my butt tonight when he came home. He's never done that before." "Oh, and leaving the bathroom door cracked while he showers?" Edie said. "You think he'd have done that before? I don't think so." "I'll tell you this, lover," Aimee said as she reached over and gave her sister a quick kiss on the lips. "Tomorrow night, either he makes the move or we do. I can't stand this constant tease." "OK, here's what we do," Edie said, and she outlined her plan for the next night. "I guess we'd better get some rest then," Aimee said after Edie was finished. "No sex for you tonight." "Yeah, save it for tomorrow," Edie answered as she rolled over and went to sleep. The sexual tension in the small house was thick the next night as the trio, father and daughters, ate dinner, then cleared the dishes and cleaned up after the meal. Through the meal and afterward, Charles made it a point to touch his girls often and show them his affection. Charles was keyed up in a way he hadn't been in years. He smiled as he went off to the spare bedroom, which they used as the study. There were books, a desk and chair, and it was the place where the girls had done homework and where he did the family financial business. He was working on some bills, when the girls stuck their heads in the door and said they were going to bed. Charles stared because they were both wearing just a T-shirt and panties, and his cock stiffened as he felt their nipples bore into his back when they hugged him good night. After the door to their room closed, Charles thought about the encounter for a second. They were going to bed, all right, but not to sleep, because they had both been wearing makeup, with lipstick. Aimee had been wearing pink lipgloss and Edie had put on ruby red lipstick. No question, Charles thought, they were ready. He gave them time to get started before he got up from his chair and turned off the desk lamp. His palms were sweaty and his pulse was racing as he walked through the house turning off the lights. As he passed his daughters' room, he saw that the door was cracked open just a sliver, but it was enough for him to hear what was going on. "Mmmm, God, I love your tongue on my clit," Edie said, as she pressed Aimee's head to her cunt. "Tasty pussy," Aimee said softly as she pulled her mouth away momentarily. "I love how you taste when you get horny." Charles' cock was super hard, and he walked into his bedroom quickly and shed his shorts. Outside, a steady rain began to fall. He smiled at the sound. He'd always loved fucking Simone when it was raining outside. Somehow, the sound was so sensual. He stood in his room naked, his cock hard as a brick. He stroked it lightly as a ball of pre-cum boiled from the tip. He swirled the clear fluid around the head and over the shaft, groaning softly. Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the hallway and stood just outside the girls' bedroom. He could hear slurping sounds, but no voices, other than soft moans of lust. It was time. He slowly pushed the door open and was greeted by a sight that would be etched in his mind forever. Aimee was on her back naked, her legs spread and her hairy pussy splayed open, with Edie's fingers delving in the wet depths while her tongue swirled around Aimee's clit. Edie was also naked on top of her sister, grinding her hips over Aimee's head, although Charles couldn't see that. As Charles watched, Edie slid her tongue down Aimee's furrow and buried her face in her sister's twat as they began to 69 each other in earnest. Charles slowly fisted his cock as he drank in the incredible lesbian scene. "You girls have been very, very naughty," he said slowly, evenly. Edie's head shot up, as if in surprise at being caught. But the lascivious grin on her face gave her away as she feasted her eyes on her father's naked body, with his stiff cock in his hand. "Daddy!" she exclaimed. "I, er..." She slid off Aimee's body, and Aimee sat up with a sultry look of unrequited lust on her face. "I think you two need to be punished," Charles said with a wicked grin on his face as he walked up to the bed. "How do you propose to punish us?" Edie said sexily, as she leaned forward on her knees, pressed her body to her father's and took his cock from his hand. "By fucking us into oblivion?" Aimee said as she took up her place next to her sister. Together, they slowly stroked their father's cock, feeling it twitch in their hands. "Something like that," Charles said. "You two are a couple of wicked little sluts, aren't you." They both nodded as Charles wrapped an arm around each girl and kissed each one in turn. Their tongues battled as their mouths met as if they were one. Edie was the first to slide back down the bed to get face-to-face with the cock she'd been dreaming about for so long. "Teach us how to suck cock, Daddy," Edie purred as she licked up and down the shaft. She opened her mouth and slowly drew about half of him past her lips. Charles wrapped his hand around the back of Edie's head, feeling her soft dark hair, then the skin of her bare neck. She worked her mouth back and forth over his cock for several seconds, then passed it to Aimee, who had lain down beside her. Aimee sucked her father's cock for a bit, then passed it back to Edie, then Edie passed it back to Aimee, then they both worked their mouths all over the purple shaft. Charles squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw as he fought the urge to spew an explosive cum load. He'd waited too long to waste it like that. Edie's cunt was boiling as she ran her ruby red lips over her father's dick, and Aimee was lost in lust as her pink tongue laved Charles' balls. Finally, Charles had to pull away. It was time to sample some pussy. "On your backs, both of you," Charles said panting. "I want to see these cunts you've been teasing me with the past few days." Obediently, the girls lay back and spread their legs, then wrapped their arms around each other. Charles climbed on the bed and knelt at his daughters' feet. He slid two fingers of each hand into a slippery cunt, Aimee on the left and Edie on the right, and slowly finger-fucked his girls. "Like what you see, Daddy?" Aimee said softly. "It's all yours. Both of us. We've wanted you for a long time." "I meant what I said earlier, Daddy," Edie said. "You really are the sexiest man in the county. And we want to please you like no one else can." Charles didn't respond, but simply bent down between Aimee's legs, reached under her butt and grabbed on with both hands and brought her crotch to his face. He inhaled her womanly aroma, then buried his face in her cunt and began to eat her out like a madman. Aimee squealed as Charles' tongue slid over her clit, into her cunt, while his lips sucked on her labia. Then her lust noises were muted as Edie reached over and kissed her sister, hot and hard. Suddenly, she felt a scream of her own burst forth as Charles moved over and gave Edie the same treatment. Charles tongue-fucked Edie's well-trimmed snatch with a lust he never knew he'd had. Edie could feel a monstrous climax building from the feeling of her father's mouth on her cunt. But before she could fire it off, Charles pulled away and got up on his knees. "OK, I'm not going to last too long, so who wants it first?" he panted. "Let Aimee have it," Edie said. "I have something I want you to do to me, and I think you know what that is. So I can wait. Besides, I want to watch." Aimee got up on her knees, with her butt in the air and her dripping wet pussy open for display. "Fuck me, Daddy, fuck me good," Aimee whispered. "God, you've got a beautiful pussy," Charles said. He started to say, "just like your mother," but he didn't. He didn't want unwelcome memories to spoil this night of love. Instead, he knee-walked up to where Aimee was kneeling, pressed the head of his cock to her hot opening, then grabbed her hips and slid right on in. They both groaned heavily as they each felt the first incestuous thrust of father fucking his daughter. Country Girls Quickly, Charles was happily plowing a tight, but pliant pussy, working Aimee back and forth on his cock, his hands tight on her butt cheeks. "Mmmmm, God! It's soooo gooood!" Aimee squealed. "Oh, Sissy, you're gonna love it. It's just the right size. Oh yeah, fuck me, Daddy. Don't hold anything back. Fuck me hard!" Charles was lost in the feeling when he felt something tickling his balls. He looked down to see that Edie had slid under her sister's body and was adding her mouth to the equation. Her tongue rolled over Aimee's swollen clit, over Charles' shaft as it pistoned in and out of Aimee's pussy. Aimee bent her head down, grabbed Edie's butt and brought her sister's pussy to her mouth, eating her out with all the experience she could muster. Edie was fascinated by the way Aimee's cunt lips seemed to grip Charles' cock as he worked it faster and harder. She got a rush out of the incredible slickness of his cock as it pulled back from Aimee's juicy depths. Charles was gasping and groaning as he fought a futile battle to hold back his orgasm. But his daughter's palpitating pussy as Aimee plunged into her own climax was rendering that fight useless. With a hard grunt, he thrust wildly some half-dozen strokes then felt a rocket shot of cum burst out the end of his cock. He came like he hadn't come in a long, long time, basting Aimee's pussy with a hot bath of semen. Edie felt the fire of her climax race through her as she watched her father come inside her sister. She could see streaks of cum on his shaft as he continued to pump out his seed. She couldn't help herself; she had to get a taste, so she reached up, grabbed his slimy cock, wrenched it out of Aimee's cunt and stuck the still-spewing head into her mouth. Edie milked her father's cock of what was left in his balls, swallowing his bursts of cum then cleaning his shaft of the slick combination of his cum and her sister's juices. When his cock had been drained of every drop she could get, Edie pulled her sister's cunt onto her mouth and sucked her father's cum from the still-twitching flesh, licking her cavity clean of the hot, slick juice. Aimee finally slumped forward onto Edie's body, utterly sated. Their sweaty bodies gave off an electric sizzle that ignited a small aftershock of passion through her body. It had been everything she'd known it would be, and she knew she was going to fuck her father again and again. Charles collapsed on the bed, crawling in between his sexy daughters, his chest still heaving from the efforts he'd put into his passion. "Wow!" he exclaimed, and somehow they all thought that was funny, because they all three began to laugh, the laughter of consummated lust, lust that had been consummated very well indeed. Charles brought his girls into the circle of his arms and they slid their hot hands over his body. They were resting, but the fever was still high, especially when the girls' hands softly caressed his trembling cock. As they caressed each other, they all talked about the long-suppressed lust that had been bubbling beneath the surface in the house for so long. Charles confessed that he'd fantasized about this for a long time, but had been afraid that any advances would be met with revulsion. The more they talked, the more Charles' cock began to grow, and he lay back reveling in the feeling of his hard meat in his daughters' hands. Finally, after a period of silence, he spoke up. "So, Edie, you said you wanted something special from me," he said softly. Edie just stared at her father as she brought her lips to his and kissed him deeply. That was Aimee's cue to slide down the bed and inhale his cock into her mouth. She worked her mouth slowly up and down his thick shaft, circling the head with her tongue as she slid her lips back and forth. "I want you to fuck my ass, Daddy," Edie whispered. "I've dreamed about getting your hard cock in by butt ever since I discovered how erotic my ass is. I love it when Aimee plays with my hole, but I've waited for you to be the first to fuck me there." "Sweetie, you're awfully small," Charles said. "You think you can take me back there?" "I know I can," Edie said. "You just lie back and let me do the work. It'll be easier if I'm on top, so I can kind of regulate how fast and how deep you go. But make no mistake. I'm going to get you in my ass. And it's going to be the wildest ride you ever took." While Aimee continued leisurely sucking Charles' cock, Edie swiveled around, so that her hips were straddling Charles' head, and as she did, he reached up and pulled her to his mouth. He licked and sucked all over her boiling cunt, and almost like they were reading each other's minds, she slid her body forward, so that her pink asshole was over his mouth. He slathered his saliva all over the puckered hole, then poked at it with his tongue and felt it give easily to his pressure. Aimee gave up sucking her father's cock, climbed up on her knees and kissed her sister deeply. Edie was groaning and panting from Charles' mouth on her pussy and ass, but she still had enough presence to grab his cock when Aimee got up to get the lubricant. She got back up on the bed and waited until Edie was poised over Charles' cock. She squeezed out a generous dollop onto her fingers, then slid the lube between Edie's legs. She worked the jelly into her sister's dripping pussy and into her pliant ass. Edie threw her head back and wallowed in the sizzling feeling of lust as it roared through her young body from Aimee's fingers working at her holes. She was so ready for this, and she reached down and softly stroked her father's cock, getting it ready to please her. Edie got up on her feet and squatted over Charles' cock. Aimee held the hard shaft straight up toward the ceiling as Edie slowly lowered her hips until she felt the head of her father's cock at the hot pink flesh. Aimee was staring in a lustful daze as Edie pulled her butt open with both hands and slowly pushed down until suddenly the head of his cock split her anus open. "AHHHH YAHHH!" she cried as she felt Charles' hot spear slowly invade her rectum. "Jeeeeezzzzzzzus! Feels soooooo fuckin' good!" Charles was lost in a world of his own as he felt the wet tightness of Edie's ass as it slowly enveloped his throbbing cock. He waited until Edie had about half of him buried in her butt, then he thrust upward with a loud grown and slid the rest of it home. "Oh fuck! Oh fuck!" Edie stammered as she felt Charles fill her fuller than she could have ever imagined. "Oh Daddy! Fuck me, fuck my ass! Fuck... Fuck meeeee!" It didn't take long before Edie was riding her father's cock with total abandon. Charles cupped her ass in his hands, working her up and down on his cock. Aimee was bent over, with one hand reaching back between her legs to finger her pussy wildly while she watched her father skewer his sister's ass. From where she was, she could see Edie's palpitating pussy lips as her climax built to a white heat. She knew just what to do. Leaning forward, Aimee buried her face between Edie's legs and began to use her lips and tongue on his vacant cunt. That did it for Edie. Her body was bucking hard and fast as the strongest orgasm she could ever remember exploded through her. She was getting fucked hard in her ass and eaten hard in her pussy as her mind was blown from the sensations. Charles couldn't hold it back – didn't want to hold it back. He was ready to baste his beautiful daughter's ass with a rocky cum lead at least as powerful as the one he'd just given Aimee. He fucked his cock up once, twice, three times and on the fourth thrust he felt the crackling feeling of his cum racing through his cock and spewing out to bathe Edie's spastic ass with his hot cream. He gasped in utter relief as the rapid-fire bursts exploded out the end of his dick. Edie finally slumped back into her father's arms, her sweaty body full against his chest. Charles wrapped his arms around his girl and idly fingered her nail-hard nipples, as they both groaned in release. Finally, she slid to the side, his cock flopping out of her dilated ass with a plopping sound. Just then, he felt Aimee sliding up the bed and wrapping her arms around him. They were three happy, sated lovers who could see oceans of pleasure opening up ahead of them. As they drifted off to a satisfied slumber, Charles heard both of his daughters say the magic words. "I love you, Daddy," each said in turn. "You're the best."