When Brad King returned to the Rooster Tavern that night he walked into the middle of a brawl. Roland Hanson had gone berserk it seemed. He was flinging beer mugs and chairs at a young man who was cursing him out while the interested clientele looked on. Someone had managed to part them and the bouncer was trying to throw both men out.
"That's Roland's son, Ret," said a drunk with a thick stubble on his chin.
"What?" said Brad. He moved among the crowd until he got the whole story. Ret Hanson, who hadn't been seen in this county for over ten years, had showed up at the bar that night with a wild story about how Roland had cheated him of some money. When Roland denied it and told him to get the hell away, the son had started shouting something about a donkey.
"'She did it with a donkey. In a donkey act in Iowa City. That's the kind of daughter you have. How do you like that? Do you like it? I saw it, with my own eyes, I saw it!' That's what he kept shouting," one old timer recounted to Brad with a laugh. "Whoeee, you should have seen Roland Hanson's eyes bulge," the old man laughed.
Brad had heard enough and he quickly left the saloon. Lena had told him of her stay in Iowa City and how her brother had betrayed her, and how her father had betrayed him.
The bouncer had succeeded now in ejecting both the elder and the younger Hanson and they stood facing each other, their fists raised, outside the establishment.
"With a donkey. She fucked a fucking donkey, she sucked him off and then she fucked him with her cunt! How do you like that? Is that what she does to you too? Does she fuck you just like she fucked the donkey?" Ret was screaming.
"Shut up, you miserable liar!" Roland Hanson was almost beside himself with liquor and anger and confusion.
Men were trying to keep father and son from falling on each other with their fists.
Brad King stepped up. "Sir, I don't know if what your son tells you is true, but I do know one thing. Your daughter has fucked your horses. Both of them. Your stallions. She told me she goes out into the barn and fucks them both, after every time you take her and you rape her in the barn!"
"It's a lie!!!!" screamed Roland Hanson, held by several hands. His eyes were boiling red and every muscle in his body and face was straining to keep the truth from coming out.
"Let me go. Let me go home. I'll ask Lena myself. I'll ask that stupid bitch."
"Er, I don't think you should drive home yourself Roland, old man. You've had quite a few," said a friend.
Roland Hanson spit. "Let me go."
"No," other men agreed. A few of them decided to escort him home, to make sure he didn't do something wild and crazy on the way. They could see that he was a man at the end of some kind of rope and they wanted to protect him from himself.
Against his wild protestations, he was forced into the cab of his pick-up between two men, and another car followed behind.
By the time they pulled into his driveway he had calmed down. He was thinking. He let on as if he was feeling much calmer and better, and thanked them for helping him home. He was hoping they would leave, when they let on they'd love a cup of coffee. He let them into the kitchen, casting a backward glance at the barn. He'd have to wait for them to leave before he could go in there.
He fumbled around in the kitchen, knocking the glasses together, trying to boil water on the stove for coffee.
"Where's Lena?" one of the men asked. "Have her come out here and do it," they suggested.
"Lena!" he called gruffly and then when there was no answer he said, "She must be asleep."
"How's Mara doing, Roland? We hear she's pretty sick. Is everything okay? Is there anything we can do to help?"
Roland thought of that sick feeble face to whom he was feeding small amounts of rat poison everyday. He looked the men straight in the eyes and said, "No thanks. Appreciate it, but there's nothing anyone can do. The doc looks in on her every once in a while."
Brad King was among the men in the kitchen. He had ridden in the car that followed behind. "How is Lena doing?" he asked, sipping his coffee. "You be sure to tell that girl, my offer is still good. I'll take her out anytime."
The other men murmured, "She's a nice girl, Roland. She'll make some man a fine wife some day."
Roland barely kept up his polite attitude until the men finally thanked him for the coffee and said goodnight. They were still offering their help anytime, when they pulled out of the driveway and drove away.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," said Roland disgustedly as he watched them leave. He spat on the ground and then, when their headlights were out of sight, he stalked into the barn.
He looked for her everywhere. In the loft, in the horses' stalls, in the cows' stalls, in the house. He barely cast a glance at his sleeping wife lying pale and grey on her cot. After he had searched the entire premises he found himself sitting dully on a kitchen chair, under a bare electric bulb, pounding his fist against the kitchen table and repeating, "She's gone, she's gone."
Then there rose up before his mind pictures of what two men had told him she had done. With his stallions? No, he couldn't believe that. He saw her white buttocks parted for the horses' long dicks and closed his eyes and spit. No, not that. NO, not with his horses. He thought about how skittish they had become of late, almost spoiled for riding, and he remembered how he had talked with Brad about it.
"They're ruined for riding now," he had said. "I can't figure it out. It's like they've had a woman on their backs or something. They just won't heel anymore."
And he remembered now how Brad King had smiled.
And with a donkey? Ret swore he had seen her do a donkey act in a bar in Iowa City. No, Ret was full of lies, vengeful lies. He just wanted his money, and had come home to make trouble for Roland with a fistful of ridiculous lies.
But then where was she now? How had she escaped? Where had she gone? He thought of the soft warm body, the odorous cunt he could ordinarily have gone into the barn and taken, now, when he wanted it so much, and it was gone!!!!!
Brad King went home that night and had a long, if fitful, rest. He was not worried about Lena for the moment. He knew she was safe in Linda's tent. But he was figuring out, even in his dreams, how he would get Lena permanently out of her father's clutches.
Brad woke late in the morning and greeted his parents at breakfast. They had heard about the ruckus down at the Rooster the night before. Indeed it was the topic of conversations at breakfast tables that Sunday all over the county. Men were asking men and women were asking women: "With a donkey? With a horse? Do you think she really did it? What goes on over there at the Hanson place anyway."
Brad refused to say much, except that he had been there and had driven home with Roland.
"Well I reckon you'd better get that bull over to him today anyway. Whether he's fighting with his son or not, I reckon business will still go on."
"Yessir," said Brad and he went out to load the bull into the van.
Brad King was not the first visitor to the Hanson residence that Sunday morning however. Earlier that morning, much earlier, at dawn, a car had pulled into the driveway and Ret Hanson, stepping out, saw the figure of his father sitting hunched up at the kitchen table with all the kitchen lights on.
Ret Hanson was humming as he knocked on the door and then stepped in, waking his father up.
"I got her," was all he said.
"Huh?" said Roland blinking.
"She was gone when you got back here. Right?" He licked his dry lips, just like his father.
Roland said nothing.
"I know where she is and I can get her right to you. For $2000."
Roland said, "I don't believe you."
"Here, recognize these?" and Ret pulled from his back pocket a pair of crumpled up black panties.
Roland put them to his face and smelled them deeply. He took the panties away from his face and his eyes had a clearer look. "Where is she?" he said.
"Ah, not until you hand the money over," Ret wagged a finger at him.
Roland got up and went into the back bedroom. He lifted the mattress his wife lay on and pulled at a wad of bills stuffed into the springs. He sat down and counted out a thousand dollars. He let the mattress spring back. He went back into the kitchen. He had never noticed that his wife had ceased to breathe.
"There, a thousand. That's all I got. Take it or leave it," said Roland slapping the money on the table.
"I know you got more, old man, but I'll take this," said Ret after a moment's hesitation. Then he said: "She's in the car. In the trunk."
In the dawn's first light, two men lifted a bound figure of a girl from the trunk of a car and carried her into the barn.
The younger man drove off in the car and the older man, after checking that the girl's bonds were secure, and that she was firmly gagged, left her tightly tied up in the upper loft. He went in and fell asleep on the couch where he was awakened later that morning by Brad King who arrived with the bull.
Roland looked at him suspiciously. Ret had told him how he'd gone, drunk and with a woman he'd picked up, to the carnival at the edge of town, after being thrown out of the Rooster. They walked around spending what little money he'd had left, and then suddenly, behind a tent, he saw Lena. She had slipped out of the tent to pee. He'd come up behind her and hauled her away. Roland wondered how she had gotten there. He wondered if she'd had any help this time.
But he said nothing. He wanted to get rid of this boy. He'd have to get some other man to help him out on the farm when he needed help from now on.
He began to bring the bull out. It was snorting and kicking like crazy. It obviously didn't like travelling in this fashion.
Brad got the bull into the pen where the cows would be brought to him. He asked Roland if he wanted him to stick around and help with the mating, but Roland said no. Brad looked over at the barn once or twice, and Roland saw this and watched him.
"This kind of job really requires more than one man around. These bulls can be mean, as you know," said Brad.
"Thanks, I'll be just fine. You can come by and pick him up about five today. My brother-in-law lives down the road and he's going to come by and help me out. Thanks."
There was nothing Brad could do but get back in his car and leave.
Roland Hanson made his preparations carefully. First he fed the bull, a piece of raw meat he'd kept for it in the refrigerator.
The bull was a big mean-looking bastard, with a coarse spotted hide and horns that were black and twisted and nine inches long apiece. He had an iron ring through his nose that was threaded a thick rope, and from a great distance, Hanson led the bull to the locks in the fence of the corral. He managed to maneuver the bull's head into the harness where the bull remained, trapped. Then he went into the barn for his daughter.
The two cows, Millie and Bess, were going crazy. They could smell the bull outside for they were rolling their eyes and mooing. The horses too could sense the bull's strange presence. The horses were acting skittish and whinnying, the white of their eyes bulging in their heads.
He went up into the loft and brought his daughter down. He ripped her clothes off of her around the bonds of her ropes. Then he retied her, trussing her up as if she were a heifer, binding her hands and ankles together in one bunch. He lifted this load over his shoulder and paraded her past the horses. He stopped at the first one, Black Pride, and held his daughter, cunt up, to the horse's nose. The horse sniffed at the bouquet offered to it, and whinnied and bucked.
The second horse, Red Beauty began bucking too, even before he raised his odorous prize to the stallion's nose. He took her out into the daylight and tied her so that she hung from a bar in the fence, on the other side of the pen from where the bull was tied up.
Then he went back to the barn and led the two cows out. They were fluttering and mooing like two cats in heat. He let them loose in the pen and went back for the horses. These too he tied up so they could watch from nearby.
He had his whole family with him now, except for the woman who lay dead inside his house.
He didn't know if Lena could see or was watching but he was sure she could sense what was going to happen.
He put one cow in with the bull and let the bull loose. He sat back on the fence to watch.
The cow was acting queerly, sashaying back and forth in front of the bull, but then retreating to the far corner of the pen and mooing wildly at the slightest approach of the bull.
The huge creature was on his guard at first. He sensed the cow waiting for him at the far end of the pen, but he also was aware of many other presences he distrusted all around the pen. He could smell horses, and another cow, and another smell he couldn't identify.
He saw the red flaming meat of the cow's cunt pass in front of his eyes again, and, as if a red flag had been waved in front of his nose, he forgot about the possible presence of danger and followed after his nose.
The smell of cow cunt was strong to him, and he sucked it in through his powerful nostrils. Like the earth shifting below a volcano, before the volcano erupts, the bull's genitals moved, and his great cock rose slowly out of its furry sheath. His balls stood up and became hard, as he pursued the cow into the corner of the pen where she managed to slip away from him again.
Roland felt his own cockles rise as he watched the bull circle with the cow, on the hunt for cuntmeat. He shifted on the fence so that his balls felt some ease from the pressure of the fence, and he looked down at the cunt of his daughter, as she hung from the fence beside him. He could look down through her tied hands and feet straight into her pink meat.
The cow shifted away again, mooing, but obviously wanting it, and as she turned, the bull turned too and caught her before she expected it, sinking his cock in right to the hilt as he dug into her hide with his hoofs. His hoofs were rimmed with steel.
Cow cunt, Roland thought as he watched. The bull was riding high into the cow's ass and the cow was making a noise quite different from the one it made when being milked. The bull pulled in and out of the pink cowmeat, sinking his enormous cock, which was brown and about seventeen inches long. It looked like a big sausage, or a gun, whenever Roland glimpsed it as it was stuck and sunk again and again in the cow. The cow shivered and shook and quaked and the bull pulled his cock out and dropped his hoofs and the cow trotted away. Roland let her out of the pen.
He put the other cow in there now and sat back to smoke a cigarette.
The bull went straight for this second piece of meat. The cow acted terrified. She ran from one end of the pen to the other. Roland had never seen her move that fast.
The bull chased after her, goring her once or twice with his horns as she passed. Blood spurted out of his cow's side, as Roland watched. The horses started to go crazy at the first smell of blood. They were rearing up on their hind legs and straining and stretching their ropes. They didn't like the near presence of the bull one little bit.
The bull caught the cow in mid-pen as she changed direction in her running. Before she could turn completely he had sunk his cock deep into her cunt. She squealed and screeched and went down on her front legs while her ass reared way up.
The bull was growling and roaring now as he socked it to her at the speed of lightning. Just as quickly it was over and the cow was trotting away with come dripping out of her cunt under her tail, which she kept flapping.
Now it was Lena's turn.
Roland explained to Lena what he was doing to her and why she deserved it, as he led the cow out of the pen and threw the bull another piece of meat. He squatted by Lena, tapping one thigh with his finger as he spoke.
"Your brother Ret told me about how you, you, my own daughter, flesh and blood, took a donkey's dick, a donkey, into your mouth, where I put my cock, and how you put a donkey dick into your cunt, where I put my cock. And somebody else, that friend of yours, Brad King, told me as how you been doing it with my horses, Red Beauty and Black Pride, for months now. How you go down on my horses, ruining their dispositions, and sullying your mouth and your cunt, how you go down on them every night after I have taken you myself."
"Now," her father continued, "I don't believe them!" The insane rage he was filled with was apparent in the grotesque contortions his face made as he tried to continue speaking.
Lena starred at this terrible figure of a man.
"But they both tell me it's true! Your cunt and your mouth, and all the rest of your filthy body belong to me!"
With great effort he pulled and steered the bull into the collar-like locks in the fence and secured it there again. He brought the package of his daughter around to the bull's face and held her cunt up to his nose, only inches away.
The bull reared, powerfully pulling at the locks in the fence so that Roland feared they would yield, but they held, and he continued to hold his daughter, cunt up, only inches away from the bull's face.
The bull tried to gore her with his horns and Roland laughed to hear her terrified breathing as the bull's horns came close to her ass. He wanted to spear her by the cunt on one of the bull's horns, he wanted to watch her get fucked like a cow. He wanted to get the living daylights fucked out of her so he wouldn't have any more trouble with her.
"Father! Please! Please! Please!"
He heard her begging him and he felt good. That was more like it. He liked to hear her beg and he dangled her again in front of the bull's face. He wondered if the bull had ever smelled woman-pussy before, and if it smelled very different to the bull than his own kind of pussy.
The bull was kicking and rearing now and Roland realized he wouldn't be able to get her under the bull as he had dreamed without running the risk of getting killed himself, but his own cock was hard and erect beneath his pants and he unzipped his pants.
Not four feet from the bull, and under the wild eyes of his stallions who bucked and screamed, he took out his big hard cock and looked down at his daughter who lay beneath him, trussed up like a heifer. Her back was on the ground and her arms and legs tied together in the air, leaving her cunt sticking out of her ass like a cow's.
He stopped and listened another moment to her screaming and begging.
"Please! Please! Please!"
He looked like a man stopping to hear a tune he loves being faintly whistled by someone somewhere, unseen. Then he sank his big dick into her beaver, holding her ass down with one powerful hand.
He was sinking his shaft into her again and again while she continued to scream when the five cars pulled into his driveway and a dozen men piled out. One of the cars was a police car.
Brad King was the first to reach the girl and the man and he gave Roland Hanson a sock on his jaw that sent him flying through the air, his cock with him. The police raced up behind him and told him to stay out of this, they would handle it.
Brad wasn't listening to them. He was untying Lena's bonds as fast as he could and taking off his shirt to cover her with. She was screaming and crying hysterically and he held her tight in his big strong arms, cursing himself for ever leaving her, kissing her wrists and ankles where the ropes had cut into her flesh.
He pulled her away from the presence of the bull. The whole barnyard was going crazy, the horses wild with fear, the chickens scurrying underfoot, the place swarming with people.
"Mr. Hanson, Mr. Hanson, roll over slowly, but fast! Mr. Hanson, you are in danger, roll away!" the police commanded Roland Hanson through a megaphone. Brad's fist had knocked him right under the bull's head and the bull was glaring down at him with its bloodshot eyes.
Lena, in Brad's arms, heard the police's commands through the megaphone and she opened her eyes now and looked at her father, sprawled beneath the bull's hooves his dick in his hand.
"Kill him! Kill him! Kill him, that disgusting bastard!!" she began screaming hysterically and it was as if her screaming pulled a trigger.
Suddenly as if the bull saw red he raised one hoof and stamped on the squirming thing beneath him. Everyone pulled their breath in, and then looked away, except for Lena. She alone looked straight at the smashed head of the man who had tormented her to the very edge of insanity.
She threw her face into Brad's shoulder and sobbed and sobbed for a long time, as if finally she had found release.