****** The Farmer's Daughter by Nathan LaPlume ******
===============================================================================

The Farmer's Daughter


My brother, Clyde, an' me helped on the farm where we grew up, outside a
Rockville, Indiana. Ma, and Bessie Mae, our half sister from Pa's first
marriage, did the housework, washing and such, but we had time to ourselves
when we weren't helping Pa that summer when I was 13.

I was walking back from the fishing hole down at Big Raccoon Crick and come up
to the house, from the back, by the shed where Bessie Mae and Ma did the
washing. As I passed by the shed, I thought I heard somebody moan, so I stopped
and held real still, listening. At first I heard Bessie Mae, moaning, "aaahhhh-
ah-ah" like and the rustling of some hay on the floor. But presently, I heard a
man's voice, down low. Couldn't make out what he was saying.

I walked careful, like an Indian, around by the door to the shed. I tried to
open the door, but it was latched by the inside, so I peeked in the crack. I
couldn't see much, except for our hired man, Charles. Pa wouldn't let us call
him Nigger Charles, but that's what everybody else called him. I could make out
that Charles was bare chested, an I could hear him an' Bessie Mae talking real
low, but couldn't see Bessie Mae from the door. She wasn't in any danger that I
could tell, so I tiptoed away, my pecker hard in my overalls because of what I
just saw.

That night, when we were ready for bed, I told my brother Clyde what I saw.
Clyde showed a lot of interest in the story, since he never did get along with
Bessie Mae, I guess because she had a different mother and was a year older
than Clyde. They was always trying to get the other in trouble and once Clyde
got a beating with the razor strap for pulling his meat in the outhouse because
Bessie Mae told Pa about it.

After Clyde went to sleep, I lay awake thinking about Bessie Mae and Nigger
Charles, an' the time that we saw Bessie Mae naked, down by the crick. I
thought about her pink teats and thick, brown cunt hair and rubbed the head of
my pecker, through my undershorts. Pretty soon, I was hot and bothered so that
I was just feverish and shaky. I had to pull my meat, even though I knew it was
sinful and Clyde might wake up and hear me.

I pushed my shorts down and fingered my shaft, but my rough farming hands was
kind a intense on the head. Presently, I spit twice in my hand and used the
goober for lubrication, stroking my pecker, slow at first, then faster as I
imagined Bessie and Nigger Charles together, Charles on top, like our old
coonhound, Pete, on a bitch. I stroked faster and harder, and pretty soon I
imagined myself hunched over Bessie Mae, and in my mind, I was Nigger Charles
and it was MY cock in Bessie Mae's brown cunt.

Then, all of a sudden, things built up an' I shot my wad -- long streams of
jism landing on my chest, and all the way to my neck. After a few minutes the
jism and my tension had cooled off. I got concerned about getting caught, so I
felt around the floor and found Clyde's old 4-H T-shirt. I cleaned myself up as
best I could in the dark, using the shirt for a wash rag. I didn't know what to
do with the shirt afterwards, so I finally threw it back under Clyde's bed and
went to sleep.

The next morning, Clyde woke up with a plan in mind. Never mind that I didn't
want to be part of anything, Clyde told me: "Little brother, we're gone a swear
an oath never to use our knowledge, except for good, like when we get Bessie
Mae for all the shit she done to us." An' we did swear it, "on a stack of
bibles."

After breakfast, we went down to the laundry shed and looked around. We
couldn't see in the windows 'cause they was covered with some cheap old faded
curtains. Clyde used a big screwdriver and the heel of his hand to punch out
two knot holes from the side of the laundry shed, so that we had a good view of
two hay bales, stored in side, that the women sat on to fold clothes. "That's
where he must a nailed her," muttered Clyde. He tacked tarpaper over the holes
so that she wouldn't see any light.

We set up our stakeout for the next afternoon, when Pa usually went to the
Rural King farm store, Bessie Mae had a peculiar hankering to do some wash and
she was out in the shed when Charles showed up to sharpen the blade on the
brush cutter. I got Clyde and we watched from the house as Charles went to the
laundry shed, took a towel down off of the clothesline, and went in, closing
the door behind him.

"Did you notice that before Charles showed up, that Bessie Mae went out and
looked all around before she put up the towel? That's how she tells Charles
that Pa is away and that she's in the shed, waiting on him!" We gave the lucky
couple a few minutes to settle in, before we snuck around back of the shed.

"They're in there, I can hear them," Clyde whispered. I knelt quietly by my
knothole while Clyde checked the door. "Yep, it's latched from the inside,"
Clyde whispered, all excited.

I was a sunny day and it took a minute for my eye to adjust to the light inside
the shed. I could see Bessie Mae laying back on the hay bales, half sitting,
with her elbows back behind her, and Nigger Charles standing there in his gray
work clothes, rubbing his crotch. I couldn't hear what they was saying and
presently, Bessie Mae set up and grabbed the end of Nigger Charles' belt,
trying to pull down his pants.

It took her a minute to get his pants open, and when she did, Nigger Charles'
prick sprung out. I did a double take and looked over at Clyde, and he looked
at me and we both whispered, "Did you see THAT!?"

Nigger Charles' cock was about a foot long, real thick in the middle, shaped
like a cigar. And it looked different from my own (and Clydes) cocks, since he
wasn't circumcised. Bessie Mae stroked it a few times, like she was going to
jack him off, only slower, then she pushed back the loose skin near the end and
I could see the head, kind of grayish purple.

I heard them mumble some things and Bessie Mae kissed the head and licked up
and down the shaft a little. Then, all at once, she put the head in her mouth.
I did another doubletake with Clyde and pasted my eye to the knothole. It was
like she was trying to get the whole thing in her mouth, but she could only get
down to about the end of the rolled back forehead.

Her lips were stretched thin around it as she slid her head up and down, like
some kind of machine, sucking Charles huge cock! After a few minutes of that,
Nigger Charles pulled away and I could hear him saying something, down low.

I was starting to get all hot and bothered again and I felt my own dick, rock
hard pushing out my jeans. All of a sudden, I felt kind of embarrassed and
looked around. No sign of Ma or Pa and Clyde was...jacking off slow like,
squinting into his knothole.

So I done the same, but I couldn't hardly wait and built up quick, squirting
jism all over the gray, weathered boards of the laundry shed. It took a minute
to put my cock back in and zip my jeans, and I went back to the knothole in
time to see Bessie, now stripped of her shirt and bra, kissing Nigger Charles
on the mouth. Charles pants were completely off, and he was rubbing Bessie
Mae's breasts with his massive hands.

Bessie Mae sat back down on the bales and pushed her panties down to her knees
and slowly turned over, on all "fours," while pulling her dress up around her
waist with one hand. I could make out her ivory white ass and thick brown pussy
hair, and as she bent down, got a view of her red pussy lips and inner thighs,
glistening with wetness in the window light. I'd never seem a cunt so close,
and Bessie Mae's pussy lips reminded me of a rooster's comb, which struck me as
funny.

I hard punch to the shoulder from Clyde ended my snickering and I peeked
through my knothole again. Bessie Mae was face down on the bale with her ass
high in the air. Nigger Charles put one hand on his cock and the other on top a
her ass and ran his cock up and down her ass crack a couple a times while
saying something I couldn't make out, then he pushed his cock right into her
pussy.

I didn't see how she could take it all, and I was right. Nigger Charles could
only get about two thirds of that enormous pecker inside Bessie Mae, but that
didn't seem to concern him as he thrust in and out, slowly gathering speed. I
heard Bessie Mae, exclaim louder than before, "aaahhhh-ah-ah."

Clyde shot his load all over the weathered, dry boards of the laundry shed and
set down on the ground for a minute, looking at me. He jumped right back to the
knothole, though, when we heard Bessie Mae exclaim, "Fuck me you big Nigger!
Fuck me harder!" It surprised me to hear prissy-perfect Bessie Mae talk like
that. We weren't allowed to use the N-word, because Pa said it was bad manners,
even for us men. And we sure didn't use the F-word back then or Pa'd whip us
for sure.

Being called a Nigger didn't seem to upset Charles, and he went at Bessie Mae's
pussy with gusto! He rammed harder, faster and deeper with every thrust. And
Bessie Mae got louder too, going "AHH-AHH-AHH...stop...STOP...STOP!... You're
hurting me you black bastard!"

Nigger Charles pushed her away, kind a rough like. Clyde and I both made out
what he said then: "Now Miz Bessie! You knowed what I had for you, an' you
asked for it, so don't you leave me in a nut like this!" Bessie Mae said
something down low and turned onto her back with her legs apart. Her pussy was
all wet and gaping from Nigger Charles' enormous prick.

Charles climbed back onto Bessie Mae, and she used her hand to steer his cock
back into her hole. He started thrusting again, slowly at first and Bessie Mae
put her legs around his waist and crossed her ankles behind his backed as he
rutted on top of her. Bessie Mae started moaning again, like she done, and a
minute later we heard Charles say, "Don't move now baby, jus' like that!" Then
it got quiet for a few of minutes, but we kept our eyes fastened to the
knotholes.

While Nigger Charles got dressed, Bessie Mae sat up and pushed her hair back,
pulling a couple wheat straws out of it. Looking around, she picked Clyde's
very own 4-H T-shirt out of the laundry and used it to clean the jism off of
her thighs, pussy and up the crack of her ass.

They were just getting dressed when Clyde motioned me that the show was over.
We tiptoed a few feet, then ran the rest of the way back to the house. That
night, and for many others, we amused ourselves by mocking the sounds Bessie
Mae made in the shed with Nigger Charles and having "Jerkoffs," contests where
we pulled our meat at the same time, and the first guy to come, won.

We watched Nigger Charles and Bessie Mae whenever we had a chance but I made a
mistake that brought the goings on to a halt and got Clyde the revenge against
Bessie Mae that he always dreamed of.

Twice, I had friends from school over when Bessie Mae put up the flag for
Nigger Charles. Naturally, I took them out to the shed for a peek. Clyde did
the same for a couple of his buddies, too. Once I even got Ray Bradfield to pay
me $7 for a look, and he talked. Soon, rumors were going around and Clyde said
we had to stop before WE got in trouble.

Bessie Mae and Nigger Charles had gotten bold, and she often put up the flag
while Pa was still around, particularly on Saturday before Ma and Pa went into
town to shop for groceries at the Red Owl Foodstore on main Street. One
Saturday, we staked out the Laundry shed before the folks had left for the
store and Bessie was doing the laundry. Sure enough, she put the flag up before
Ma and Pa left.

No more than 15 minutes went by before Charles showed up, to put gas in the
combine. He parked and went right to the shed, taking down the towel, as
always.

I kept watch while Clyde slipped outside, and went behind the shed, to the
knotholes. He was gone a long time before he emerged, tiptoeing around to the
door. Pulling a hacksaw blade out of his overalls, Clyde used the thin blade to
quietly lift the latch, so that the door was no longer latched from the inside
and could be opened by anyone.

Clyde tiptoed a few yards, then ran back to the house. Just inside the back
door, Clyde shouted, "Pa! Pa! Come quick! Nigger Charles is humping Bessie Mae
out in the laundry shed! Hurry!" Never had I seen a better acting job than what
Clyde done that morning.

Pa, who was just finishing his coffee, jumped up and headed for the door,
pausing long enough to grab his double barrel J. C. Higgins shotgun. He double-
timed it off the porch and across the yard, past the combine, to the shed and
whipped open the door. "AHH-HAA! I caught you raping my daughter you dammed
ape!" I don't recall hearing the shotgun go off, but remember the roof shingles
fly off the roof as the lead buckshot went through the sheathing.

Charles must have seen Pa coming, cause he had his overalls on, if not buckled,
and he took off out the door, running faster than one of those Olympic guys. Pa
ran out, with Bessie Mae grabbing his arms, yelling, "Wait! Pa! Wait! It ain't
like that." Pa glared at Bessie Mae and pushed her down into the dusty yard.
Taking careful aim, he fired well over Charles' head. Nigger Charles was still
running when I last saw him.

Pa threw down his gun and turned on Bessie Mae. I'll be dammed if I'm going to
have a miscegnator in this house!" he shouted. Bessie Mae had on her bra and
was trying to pull on her jeans when Pa grabbed a piece of harness off of the
wall of the shed and went after her.

He doubled the strap in his hand as he ran, and grabbed Bessie Mae by the hair,
pulling her down. He swung the strap again and again, making welts on her back,
butt and thighs. Amid Bessie Mae's screams, we could hear the strap whistle as
it connected with her backside. SsssWhack! SsssWhack! SsssWhack! SsssWhack!

Clyde an' me looked at each other remorsefully. We didn't mean for her to get
it THAT bad. Bessie Mae didn't eat dinner with the family that night. She was
grounded in "lockdown" until school started, and even then, Ma or Pa always
took her to school where she was a Senior at Parke County High.

Even though she couldn't go out on any dates, by October she was obviously
pregnant. This was yet another crisis in that year of crises and, in December,
Ma and Pa drove Bessie Mae down to the Florence Crittendon House, a home for
unwed mothers in Terre Haute, 40 miles away.

Pa made arrangements for Bessie Mae to stay with her aunt, the sister of my
Dad's first wife after the baby was born. We all thought that the baby would be
mixed race, but Ma, who saw it, said that the baby was white and had real big
ears, like Gene Moser, a guy in Clyde's class who later went to prison for
killing a guy.

Bessie Mae went to Californ-eye-ay to stay with aunt Millicent, but caught up
in the flower power thing going on out there and became an actress. We lost
track of her after that, and Clyde wrote me from Viet Nam to say that that he
saw her in a stag film under the name Elizabeth Mayes and that she had became a
big porn star out west. Later on I run into her at the Bunny Ranch outside of
Las Vegas. But that's another story...

This story is part of White_Shadow's_Nasty_Stories.
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