"In an isosceles triangle, there are two sides of equal length while the third side is shorter. The hypotenuse…" Mr. Nolte droned on in math class.
Lena shared a desk with Ellen and they passed notes under the tabletop.
"Have you ever seen a man's thingie?" read the note from Ellen.
Lena suppressed a giggle and wrote back.
"You have? Whose?" was the reply.
"My cousin's," Lena wrote back after a moment's thought.
"I have too. This weekend. I saw Jed Raleigh's," was Ellen's exciting news.
"How did you like it?" asked Lena.
Mr. Nolte was standing over them. "Give me the note," he said.
"Oh, no, please, Mr. Nolte, we'll stop passing them only…"
"Give me the note."
They sullenly gave him the slip of paper they had been writing on. They looked shamefacedly at the floor as he perused it silently before the class and then folded it into his pocket, blushing. He said, "Now everyone pay attention. No note passing." And he went back to triangles.
Lena fixed her eyes on the blackboard filling up with figures, but behind her eyes she was lost in thought. She wondered what were the circumstances under which the skinny Ellen had seen Jed Raleigh's cock. She wondered what his cock was like. Jed was in the eighth grade, one year above them. He was thirteen.
Then her mind wandered to a thought of what a cock feels like slipping inside you. Under the schoolgirl's table, a pair of schoolgirl thighs became moist. She was wearing only a thin pair of white cotton panties under her skirt and her own moist smell came up to her from under the seat. She remembered Brad King's gentle hands opening her cunt gently prior to inserting his pleasantly-sized member into her and she recalled how it went in and out gently, exciting her further as it moved. How they had reached some kind of white pitch together, at the same time, as the horses moved violently on the horizon.
Then a shudder went through her body as her mind could not help recalling a very different kind of sex: the brutality and fear of her father's bondage in the barn. The class was interrupted at that point by a knock at the door. Everyone's failing attention was awakened and turned to the door.
Through the window they saw a scruffy contorted face.
Mr. Nolte went to the door and stuck his head out into the hall. Then he turned back into the room and called, "Lena Hanson."
She heard her name being called as if through a mist and just barely managed to revive herself from her dreams and say "Yes?"
"You are dismissed from class. Go into the hall. Your father has come for you. You have to go home," said Mr. Nolte.
Was he laughing at her? Having intercepted that note he must know, Lena felt. She felt as if the whole class were laughing at her, as if they all must know what this strange midday summons from her father meant. What could she say or do? Refuse to go? Announce to the class: my father has come to get me and take me somewhere where he can rape me? Who would believe her? And she would never have the nerve to do it anyway. At least not while her father was there watching and waiting for her. He would surely kill her once he got her away, if he heard her say something like that.
Miserably, she got up from her little desk. Ellen clung to her hand under the table then let her go. Ellen's kind eyes didn't look her in the face. Ellen surely knows, she thought. Ellen senses it, even if she doesn't know exactly. She knows something horrible is wrong.
She felt the eyes of the entire class on her back as she walked to the door, and it was almost a relief to escape their curious eyes and confront her father in the hall.
"Why have you come for me?"
"Don't ask questions." He took her by the hand and started down the hall.
"And the hypotenuse of this isosceles triangle is… Ellen?" she heard Mr. Nolte's voice getting fainter.
It was very strange to be walking through the school halls with her father. It was like having one foot in the grave she enjoyed some freedom from fear, freedom from attack. They walked together down the well-lit corridors. There were pictures done by the second graders hanging on the walls in the main lobby.
Mr. Hanson nodded to the school principal, Mr. Rice, a big, bald, paunchy man in a cowboy hat. Lena's father sold his heifers to Mr. Rice, who kept a small herd of livestock.
Outside in front of the school, her father stopped to talk to Jimmy Nails, the local cop who played cards with her father on the weekends.
"Mighty nice day, Roland," said Jimmy, rocking back on the heels of his black leather boots. He was in his blue uniform, and had his cop car pulled up to the curb.
"Yep," said her father, holding her by the hand, but stopping to chew some tobacco with his friend.
"That sure is a pretty little girl you've got there. How old are you now, Lena?" the cop said patronizingly.
"Twelve," said Lena sullenly.
"She'll be thirteen in August," said her father squeezing her hand tightly.
"She sure is right pretty. Sure is. Pretty soon all the little boys in her class will be wanting to take her to see the double features down to the Rialto," Jimmy the cop spoke about her as if she were absent.
"She's too young for such things," said her father spitting.
"Well, I don't know about that," said Jimmy leering and looking frankly at her well-developed bust.
"Well, I do know and I'm her father so I guess I get some say so in what she is allowed to do and what she is not. And seeing boys is not allowed. Come along honey," he said dragging her into his waiting pick-up. "We got some chores we got to do today," he added.
"Father knows best," said Jimmy grinning and he put on his dark sunglasses and climbed into his own car.
"Please follow us," Lena was praying. "Please be suspicious and follow us and see what he tries to do to me, and rescue me and put him in jail, or me in jail or just something, anything, to keep him off of me!" were Lena's hysterical thoughts. But as they pulled out onto the highway that led to the old abandoned shack by Neversink Creek, one glance in the rear view mirror told her that Jimmy the cop had had no such thoughts as following them on his mind.
Her panic grew as they rode silently in the car. She couldn't even go to the police for protection from her father. They would never believe her either. Half of them were her father's buddies, and they would only pat her on the head for making up stories and return her directly to him.
He threw her skirts up around her waist so he could look at her thighs as they drove. He put one big hand over her thighs and tweaked at the flesh that lay under her panties. Her soft white thigh flesh seemed to pull away from his coarse intruding hands, but he didn't seem to notice. He was breathing heavily as they turned onto the dirt road that led down to the creek.
He offered no explanation as to why he hadn't been able to wait for her after school, as he had other times. Why he had to add the extra humiliation of removing her from class before everybody's watching eyes. It was as if he wanted her to have to bear this extra alienation, of not being able to explain why her father came to remove her from school. He was making her feel different, and there was no one to whom she could tell her story when he stopped the car and jumped out of the cab, she remained inside. He had to come around to her side, open her door and pull her out. She clung to the gearshift, and then to the door, screaming, "Please, father, no!"
He slapped her face a few times until she was silenced, then unwrapped her fingers from his car's door and slung her over his back. He carried her down to the water's edge.
It was a beautiful day, one of the first days of summer. The water in the creek was high and spangled with sunlight. The leaves were almost full-grown on the trees that hung over the water, and they dappled the water with their shadows. There were flies in the air, just spawned by the earth overnight, it seemed, and Lena's eyes caught sight of a dragonfly, the first she had seen this year, glinting just above the surface of the stream's rippling water. Her father threw her down on the grass-covered bank and fell on top of her.
"You're making me think of you all the time, you little cunt," be whispered hoarsely in her ear. "Can't even work, now. Have to ride the tractor, do the planting, oversee the crew of boys who are helping me, but I can't, and it's your fault." He stuck his thick, tobacco-stained tongue in her ear and explored all the crevices of her soft pink seashell.
She felt the tongue like an unpleasant animal, a worm or a conch, worming down into the canal of her ear and it stirred her unpleasantly.
"In the yard I watch you bending over to feed the chickens, in the barn where I watch you squat on a stool to milk the cows. I get jealous when I watch you stroke their flanks. The cows. I get jealous when I see you touching the fucking cows." Now he was exposing her breasts to the open sun.
They were beautiful, firm, oblong-shaped, and white as fresh cream with brown nipples like the nougat inside of a candy bar. He slobbered his mouth all over these mounds of flesh, taking the nipples between his teeth and pulling lightly on them, watching as he raised the whole tit to a standing position by pulling on the nipple. He had the playfulness of a child today as he laughed gleefully when he released the nipples and the breasts fell back onto her chest like water balloons thrown gently on the ground. They did not burst, they rolled around and resumed their former shape. He cradled the boob weight in his hands and looked off in the distance as if her were judging the weight of one of his prize heifers.
He rolled her over on her hands and knees so he could look at her boobs hanging down. They almost touched the earth. The nipples were distended now, from his biting them and from hanging down, and he reached under her to cup his hands around her young tits and sway them and nip at them with his fatherly fingers.
"All the time. All the time," he kept whispering hoarsely in her ears like a gadfly, like a record, unrelated to what was happening which she nevertheless could not turn off. "I keep thinking of you, seeing you, seeing the shape of your tits in the mounds of earth the tractor drops seeds into, seeing your hair flowing over your boobies when I turn on the hose and wash down the sacks of feed. I can't even look a cow in the ass, I think of your sweet pink cuntflesh between those white thighs of yours, and I want 'em. I want 'em so bad I can't think, I can't work, can't do nothing but come to school and get you to take you away where I can put my hands all over you alone and touch you everywhere and make my mind stop trying to remember you."
His hands were all over her now, up her dress, around her waist, slipping under her panties, scratching through her pussy hair.
"Father!" she tried to stop him. They were right out in broad daylight now, after all. Someone might come along. She hoped someone would. But maybe now, in broad daylight, he might listen to reason, come to his senses.
"Father, it's against the Bible. Don't you know this is a sin? You can't fornicate with your own daughter. You'll make the sky go black some day with your dreadful deeds. Father, go to the women in town, go to Mother, go to anyone else, but please leave me alone, I beg of you. If you can't bear to see me around the house without wanting me, I'll go away. I'll go away somewhere so you won't have to look at me, but please don't."
He didn't even hear her last words, though he was laughing at her protests. He had gotten his forefinger in her slit now and he was rubbing back and forth feeling the wetness increase. He moved his forefinger up to rub the swelling mound of flesh between her labia and then he slid the finger back down to the hole and entered her youthful love-cave.
Her clit too was swelling and throbbing despite herself, and she was all wet now. The wall-to-wall quilting of her twelve-year-old cunt was slimy with female love muck and he laughed as he withdrew his horny finger and heard a sigh from her.
"I thought you didn't like it," he said, raising himself up off her for a minute to unbuckle his pants.
"Uh," she opened her eyes. For a moment she had imagined that it was Brad King who had been tickling her excitement up the crevasse between her legs. Why did women have to have this stupid hole right up the very center of them, she thrashed bitterly as she knew the inescapable truth that it was her father, his breath sour on her lips, who was pressing his huge member over her face.
Why did he like it in her mouth? It was so incredibly disgusting this way. To have to take your father's big hard dick into your mouth. He forced it in, pulling her lips and teeth apart the way he would to examine a horse. His balls knocked against her chin. She spit and choked but still he did not relent as he shoved his long pointed spear into her soft throat. He loved to watch his cock disappear into the face of his daughter. He loved making women eat it. He loved watching it disappear into the hole in the middle of their faces, even more than he enjoyed sinking it into their cuntholes.
This way he could be sure only he got the real pleasure. He closed his eyes and sank it deep in her throat again, holding her by her luscious boobies. Her hair flowed over the riverbank and into the water. He dreamed of being able to tie her up down here so that whenever he felt like sinking it in her, he could just come down here, open his pants, spread her legs or force her to open her mouth, and sock it to her.
She gagged on the wicked cone thrusting down her throat as if it wanted to be completely swallowed. The thrusting quickened which meant he was near his coming. She shuddered and retched at the thought but there was no way of escaping taking his semen down her throat. He held her firmly pinned by her arms and by the way he sat on her upper chest. She felt like a doll, limp, just a bunch of boobs, a mouth with a flowing dick in it, and somewhere down there, a mass of cuntflesh which was not at present being used.
He felt his tide rising in him, and jiggled her boobies in his hands behind him, like melons they were, and jogged up and down faster on top of her face, sinking his cock into her small compliant mouth – open like as if it were a dickhole, made expressly for his dick. He kept bouncing it into her and the tip of his cock felt the smooth firm slimy quilted throat tissue, while the shaft of his cock felt the pulling of the walls of her mouth as he yelled, "Suck me off! Suck me off you bitch!" and gave her tits a hard tweak.
He sank it into her and then was riding on a floating ocean of come. The excretion filled her throat while the penis continued to sink in her throat, and she didn't want to swallow but she couldn't get up, and lying down the ugly foul syrup began to slide down her throat while he whipped his now soft penis against the walls of her mouth.
He left the soft dick slip out of her mouth while she sat there grimacing and swallowing and spitting up. He laughed at her. She had semen all over her lips, and some even on her nose. Her nose and chin were all red and chaffed from where his groin had rubbed against her.
"My little come machine. All my very own. No one else is allowed to use it. Only me," he was joking with himself. He seemed to be very proud of his personal property.
Lena was relieved that at least it was through for one day. Would she be allowed to return to school now, she wondered. No, he wouldn't do that. He lay down on top of her, his back against her stomach, so that she couldn't get up, and he enjoyed the sunshine. He played with his dick in the breeze, trying to stand it up and laughing when it fell over, waving away the flies.
Beneath him, the back of her head was being ground into a rock, and his weight bore down cruelly on her hipbones. She could feel the copper studs of his jeans digging into the soft flesh of her belly. With his boots he amused himself by pushing her legs farther and farther apart and thought about his daughter's cunt.
Her cunt was sweet, and so young and tender, it reminded him of the yellow-green buds coming out on the trees now. Her cunt was like a sour apple that you wanted to bite into just to taste the sourness exploding on your tongue. It made you wince, the taste was so wry.
He sprang off of her, and then pulled her up off the ground. She was facing him, staring at the big ugly thing that was achingly big again. He needed to be satisfied again, he needed to be relieved of that wad of desire and passion that was pushing out of his jeans and the only thing could relieve that pushing passion was to find a hole sufficiently enticing to him.
He tied her to the trunk of a willow tree whose branches almost came down to the ground. He tied her like a heifer, with a rope around her neck, but he fixed the rope to the tree only three feet off the ground, forcing her to bend over. Lena was only five feet tall.
"Papa, no! No, Papa! Please! Please let me go! Please don't. Please! I'm scared! I'm frightened! You shouldn't do this! God will hate you! Please! NO! PLEASE!" she cried, tied to the tree stooping over.
He laughed. She sounded like a heifer braying at being separated from its mother. He lifted her skirt and watched her shake and cry in her panties for a while. Women's underwear always fascinated him, and now he was curious to watch her ass move in her child's white cotton panties. They came up to her waist, and they had a damp, darker spot at the crotch where her female secretions gathered, which no washing could entirely eradicate.
Stooping over, her breasts were hanging again, and it was almost with tenderness that he made her remove her blouse. Her boobies hung down like a cow's waiting to be milked and he crawled underneath her to swat at and suck and play with them while he put the toe of his shit-encrusted boot at the crotch of her panties and forced the panties into the entry of her cunt. The toe of his boot went part way in too, and she sobbed and shook while he thus abused her, all of which made her fine large boobies shake like jello. He had a weird thought: he wished he were a woman so he could try to insert her boobies up his cunt, and he thought if he were a woman that is want he'd want to do.
He slid out from under her and stood up behind her. He pulled her panties down to he knees and pulled her dress over her head so he wouldn't be distracted by her boobies and her cries anymore. He would just concentrate on her rear dark meat. And it was fine. He just watched and surveyed it for awhile, allowing his excitement and desire to grow unbearably.
In her fear and far-advanced state of hysteria, she couldn't stand still. Tied by the neck, all she could do was shake her ass like a cow, and he watched, fascinated, by the movement of the body. The flesh flowed into her waist, making shadows there, and then spread way out again into a fine pair of female hips, smooth and curvaceous. The curve continued on into a well-rounded ass, flowing up, out and over, and sliding into the all-enticing black crack of her ass.
Her pussy hair peeped out between her thighs and he brought her hands around and attached them to her moons and made her pull on them so that the mound of cuntflesh too protruded. It was pink and gaping. The labia looked like a little woman's little mouth pursed in a kiss. Her slender little fingers pulling on her fleshy behind pointed in the direction in which he was to go.
"Pull more! Pull harder! Stretch open your little hiney, honey, so that Daddy can put his cock right into your cunt. There, how does that feel?" And he stuck the slick wet head of his cock right up against the mouth of her open, offered, gaping pussy.
Her hands on her ass, her head tied close to the tree, she felt her father's organ enter her cunt, forced open against her will. She thought for a split second of an hour ago, sitting just like the other kids in a schoolroom, at a desk, passing notes and giggling, learning about triangles.
Now the shaft of her father's cock was slowly forcing its way up her cunt, under a willow tree by the river, while she, the part of her that was really Lena, the part of her that had a name and thoughts and reason, was tied by the head to the tree. She felt split in two.
As if there were two things going on: Lena, the reasoning part of her, was swooning in shame and humiliation and despair. Lena's cunt lived on top of her legs which slipped farther and farther apart to accommodate the huge apparatus her father had hanging between his legs. His cock and balls were larger than Brad King's. She really had to open her legs wide to get him in, and she had to pull apart her buttocks to allow him the kind of entry he needed. It was better than simply having him shove it up her and tear her apart along the way.
He loved to sink into cunt outside in nature. He loved to sink into cunt so young and so taboo as his own daughter that even his friends, if they knew, would be shocked and disapproving. And envious. He wished Jimmy Nails could see him now, or that fat paunchy self-righteous school principal, Mr. Rice. He imagined Lena's math teacher, Mr. Nolte, bald at thirty-five, saying, "Mr. Hanson, I really cannot let you take your daughter out of class unless I know what you intend to do with her."
And then his wide eyes stared as he saw her stoop over under the willow tree and part her ass so her cunt would get open and wet, so that her father could stuff his very willing and big cock into her, and into her, and into her again.
He loved to withdraw it all the way and then jam it back all the way in, feeling the whole delight of re-entry from the tip to the bottom of the shaft again. He felt her clit go by – it felt like buttered bread, sliced, and his cock felt like the knife that was buttering it. He felt like a creature, half-man, half-beast, fucking his own twelve-year-old daughter. He felt like an old dog, and it was like an old dog, hoary, dirty, crusty with old come, lots of old come from lots of women, when he took a deep breath and shot his wad straight up into her cunt. He grabbed his shaft and his whole body rode his cock to glory.
He left her there that day, and many other days following. When he left her, he tied her to the tree more securely with her legs wrapped around it. He would come back at the end of the day to fuck her some more. He just couldn't get enough of her.
She missed the last day of school because he wouldn't let her go in.
The hours she spent tied to the tree, her "hitching post" as her father laughingly called it, were passed fantasizing about revenge. How could she go on living like this? Her father thought of her merely as a cunt, a receptacle for his male organ. Her mind, meanwhile, held cruel thoughts of dismemberment. She thought how she would tie him down and take the knife used for gelding the hogs.
But then she would hear the pick-up drive up, and she was torn between shame and anxiety and hope that it would be someone else, wandered down to this lonely bend in the river, and relief and disgust and shame, and hopelessness, when she would hear his familiar grunting laugh as he raised the curtain of willow branches to find his own personal, private cunt, tied up and waiting to service him. It was always with a sigh of relief that he unzipped his pants and let out the cockled creature that was cramped in the confinement of denim.
Every night, after such days of humiliation, she went out to the barn. Late at night when her parents were asleep, or her father was away catting around.
Lena's mother seemed to have forgotten what she had practically witnessed that one night when her husband had simply dragged his daughter out to the barn. Or Mrs. Hanson's brain could not digest the information. Perhaps she thought that she had just imagined it, or perhaps her own personal freedom from her husband's sexual attention, after twenty years of fear, rose above her concern for her daughter's safety. In any case, Mrs. Hanson did not mention the incident to either husband or daughter, and she did not ask where Lena spent her days.
Lena was quite obsessed with fucking Red Beauty now. And she also had turned to Black Pride for additional fucking-revenge. The horses had a strange partnership with her. Black Pride looked on with horse-like curiosity, his black eyes glinting in the starlight of the barn, as the young girl slipped off all her clothes to meet her animal lover in the nude. She brushed Red Beauty all over with the currycomb to make him beautiful and get him in the mood. The horse's sweat from the day flicked off onto her own skin and sometimes she licked the drops of horse sweat off with her tongue, savoring the sour taste. She loved to play with the stallion's furry sheath which housed his cock.
It was like a little furry bunting on a most slick, and unshy animal. When the horse's penis started to protrude, called forth by her able hands, it looked like a slick roll of candy, like the rolls of candy she bought in the store sometimes, except that it was much thicker. It was so slick, much slicker than a human dick, that it was hard to hold it in her hands and she liked to stab in into her mouth, and to think of the wonder that she held a creature, a non-human by the cock in her mouth, and felt less disgust than she did at the same act forced upon her by her father's member.
Sliding Red Beauty's cock up the hole between her thighs, completely nude, she let her hair sweep in the straw below and she caressed her own lovely breasts.
"I hate you, I hate you," she whispered in the dark to her absent father. "I hate you so much I prefer taking the dick of your best horses, your horses, father, your stallions, your stallions stick their cocks in me. I take their long wet horse dicks in my mouth and I enjoy it more, I enjoy it! I enjoy it more than your fat, horrid, hairy, smelly excuse for manliness could ever bring me."
Red Beauty had been mounted by her so many times that he had evolved a way of pulling his cock in and out of her so that he could actually come too. The slick red penis, like a dog's, couldn't get entirely inside her, but the dick was stabbed in and out, while she clung to his underside, spreading her legs wide. The horse knew its own pleasure, too, she knew. For when it came, in a rush of horsecome, it whinnied and shook, and kicked up on its hind legs a bit, taking her for a ride and attempting to shove it into her woman's inadequate vagina a little further, knowing the bizarre excitation of fulfilling the sexual urge with a creature not of your own species.
Black Pride she treated a little differently. Red Beauty looked on curiously, and with a little jealousy, she thought, the first time she made sexual advances to the second stallion.
Black Pride was very well hung, with balls that protruded around the sheath of his cock. Black Pride was a more high-strung creature, and Lena was afraid he might not allow her intimate touch. She approached his genitals very slowly, stroking him with the curry brush all over, first, braiding his mane, calming and exciting him at the same time. She spoke to him, in a low, fervent whisper, telling him the story of how her father raped her daily, and that the fornication of beast and daughter was a fitting revenge on a man whose soul was lower than a dog's. The horse's big white teeth grinned in his mouth and she knew he was ready and willing and able for she saw the bright red glint of his dick between his black balls. She slipped under his belly. Again, he was so tall she could bend over underneath him, and she back onto his cock, holding her cunt open with her hands, the way her father had taught her.
She thought of her father thrusting into her as she stood bending over, tied to the tree like an animal. It gave her pleasure to open her cunt now to an animal tied by the neck in a stall. Horse-cock slid into human pussy with great ease, as Red Beauty watched from the next stall. Black Pride's cock was not quite as long as Red Beauty's, but it was thicker by far, and she knew greater pleasure, for he could almost put it all the way in, and it really filled her up.
She thought of the slickness of the horses' cocks and wondered why men's cocks weren't like that. Human male cocks were all dry, and human males were so dumb they didn't know how to excite a cunt to make it wet first. They just shoved their dicks in and thought women enjoyed it!
Lena was coming with wonder at how anything less than this slick wet fuck, in the stable perfumed with fresh straw and horse and cow dung, could excite her. Her father's bumbling fumbles down by the river, could not compare with the adeptness with which his stallions, which he rode out over the plain every day, stood still for his daughter, as she opened her cunt and spread her legs wide and stuck her stuff down over the horse's willing cock. She slid in and out, back and forth, up and down, feeling the horse's delicious wet dick part her cunt down the middle like a stripe of pleasure all down her body. When the horse creamed inside her, she creamed too, and when she put her panties on to sneak back to the house, horse come from her cunt filled her panties with cream as she walked.