Chapter 5
Sandra lavishly applied the black eyeliner, rimming her clear green
eyes heavily. Coupled with the woody brown eye shadow she had smoothed
onto her eyelids, she had achieved a stunning effect, and her eyes had a
hazy, smouldering look. Several coats of black mascara on her long dark
lashes completed her eye make-up, and she decided to have another cup of
coffee before putting on her lipstick.
She poured herself a cup from the still-simmering coffee pot, and
added a liberal dash of brandy. She liked the combination, and felt
herself beginning to relax as she leaned back against her chair, relishing
the steaming aromatic brew. It was her third such cup already this
morning, and she was glad that she had decided to add brandy, because its
tranquilizing effect was salve to her troubled soul. She knew she was
also feeling a little better because Mike would be out for the day,
supervising the laying down of a new electric fence at the boundary of
their property. The last few days had been hell for Sandra. Mike had
tried several times to make up with her, apologizing for his dreadful
behavior, but somehow, Sandra felt she had passed the point of no return.
She felt a shudder of revulsion every time she looked at her husband, and
the memory of the bestial anal assault he had perpetrated on her seared
her brain like a branding iron, giving no respite to her jumbled thoughts
of revenge and hate. She had retreated into herself since that terrible
evening, refusing to listen to his feeble explanations, her hurt and
disgust feeding and strengthening the anger that was germinating inside
her, a slow, seething anger that wouldn't be appeased quickly. This
morning again, just before he left for the day, Mike had lost his temper
with her once more.
"All right, have it your way!" he'd yelled, "If you want to sulk like
a child, go ahead. But don't expect me to get down on my hands and knees
to you."
"And don't forget, you're not exactly a model wife yourself!" he'd
hurled at her as he slammed the door. His last rebuke had stung most of
all. Her husband had bit nearer the truth than he'd imagined. Her record
wasn't exactly spotless, she thought bitterly, remembering her
unadulterated ecstasy as Sam Maguire had fingered her freely in the secret
confines of her eager vagina. A shudder ran through her now as she
involuntarily relived the scraping, titillating feel of his coarsened
fingers as they slid up the tight, contracting sheath of her cuntal
passage, how his hard hand felt as it squeezed mercilessly on her breasts,
evoking a strange sort of pleasure through the unbearable pain. Many
times during the past week, Sandra had puzzled over her mind and body's
acquiescence to his lewd handling, wondering, in the clear light of
following days, how she could have let herself give in to him. She
realized that he had thrown her completely off balance by his disclosure
that he had watched her through the office window as she had made herself
experience orgasmic release with her own fingers, and also the fact that
he seemed to be intimately familiar with those pornographic pictures had
stunned her. But she forced herself to admit that in addition, he had
overpowered her by his self-assurance, and his crude masculine way of
dominating her. Again she felt a tingle chill her spine as she recalled
his roughness with her, his complete disregard for her expressed feelings.
There was something perversely exciting to her, she acknowledged now as
she finished her coffee, in the way he had treated her, even abused her.
There was little pinpricks of fire niggling between her legs and she
realized that she had been grinding her pubic region down unconsciously
against the upholstery of the chair in a lewd rhythmic motion. She stood
up, swaying a little and had to steady herself against the table. Her
head felt pleasantly afloat, and her body felt warm and light. She made
her way back to the bedroom, and hurriedly applied a vivid splash of
lipstick and ran her brush through her gleaming hair. She had no clear
idea of what she was going to do, but the thought foremost in her mind was
a desire for revenge. She had to retaliate on Mike for the unforgiveable
thing he had done to her! There was something else, too, a gnawing aching
emptiness deep inside her, like a worm eating away at her. Her body felt
restless and taut, and she knew it was because she had not made love for
several weeks. She had become accustomed to regular sexual intercourse
during the years of her marriage and her body was reacting to this
neglect. Mike wasn't interested in her anymore, that was obvious. But
Sam was! There was no denying that the farm worker was definitely
interested in her and her flagging ego in its desperation found the
thought not unattractive. She suddenly longed for masculine attention, a
little appreciation of her as a woman, even a little flirting!
Almost without realizing it, she wandered out of the house and found
herself in the yard. The brightness of the sun seared her eyes and made
her feel a trifle dizzy, but she became accustomed to it after a few
moments and began to feel better. She was wearing a light cotton knit
dress which she knew was too short for her, really, falling as it did to
just the top of her thighs. The light material stretched tightly across
her full, unconfined breasts, and she knew that the horizontal stripe
pattern added to the general provocativeness of the dress.
She found, to her mingled dismay and surprise, that she was almost
desperately looking for Sam, her eyes darting back and forth among the
scattered outbuildings, trying to catch a glimpse of his burly figure. He
was no where in sight, and feeling a pang of disappointment, Sandra began
to head back for the house. What do I care if I see him or not? I'm not
interested in a mere farm worker, she told herself, walking slowly in the
direction of the house.
Then she heard his voice, calling the dog, coming from the direction
of the barn where the recently calved cows were housed. Her heart began
to pound in her ribcage, and she had to stop herself from running over to
the shed. What's come over me? she asked herself, acting like a lovesick
teenager!
She stood in the doorway, and peered around in the dim interior.
"Morning, Mrs. Peters!" Sam's gruff voice rang out, and the dog
suddenly rushed up to her, sniffing excitedly at her ankles, his big
shaggy tail wagging furiously.
"Down, King, Sam ordered, and the friendly collie crept away
unhappily, and lay down by Sam's feet.
"Hello, Sam," Sandra replied, her voice stiff and unnatural. Her
hands felt clammy, and she was sure there were beads of perspiration on
her face. I shouldn't have come here! She fought to control a wave of
fear which was swelling inside her, the man's quietness, the still, dusky
interior of the barn, frightening her unreasonably.
"That's some dress you're wearing, Ma'am," Sam praised, and Sandra
found herself flushing.
"T-thank you, Sam," she floundered, not knowing what to say.
"Well, what can I do for you this morning?" Sam drawled, an arrogant
note in his voice. Sandra could only see the glowing tip of his cigarette
- the rest of him was lost in the murkiness of the barn. It irritated her
that he could see her clearly, silhouetted against the doorway, and
exasperated, she stepped inside.
She almost stumbled, her feet unaccustomed to the deceptive softness
of the straw, and she had to put a hand out on the rough wall to steady
herself.
"Are you all right?" Sam asked, and Sandra froze when she realized
that his voice was closer, much closer. Her eyes were dazzled by the
brilliant sunshine and she just couldn't see a thing!
"W-where are you?" she asked in a small voice, fear suddenly taking
hold of her again.
"AAAGGGHHHHHHH ... ! ! !" Sandra screamed as she felt strong hard
arms around her, clasping her tightly, and then tobacco-scented breath hot
on her face.
"Stop it! Let me go!" she hissed, struggling desperately to escape
as her courage to go through with her plan faded in her mind.
Then his mouth was on hers, his lips bruising against hers in a
sweltering unrelenting kiss, his tongue, wet and hard pressing against her
teeth, forcing entry, coupling lewdly with her own mutinous tongue.
Sandra was fighting for breath as just as suddenly as she had begun, she
ceased to struggle under the farm worker's illicit embrace. All fight
went from her body, and as her fear diminished, she realized that she was
beginning to enjoy being grasped roughly in her husband's employee's arms,
to enjoy his hard grinding kiss on her tender lips. His tongue swirled
around in her velvety mouth, and he was crushing her breasts against his
chest, and Sandra could feel the hem of her tight dress riding up on her
hips. She gasped as she felt Sam's knee pry apart her thighs, and then
moaned involuntarily as she felt the bony kneecap rub unremittingly
against the burning zone of her vagina. His crude caress awoke the sparks
that had kindled in her sensitive pussy earlier that morning and she found
herself grinding her throbbingly warm flesh against the hardness of his
knee. It seemed to her as if the kiss lasted an eternity, and then,
abruptly, he threw her down on a bed of straw, and Sandra fell clumsily,
her legs sprawling uncontrollably.
Sam smiled to himself as he stared for a moment at the spreadeagled
woman. He caught an enticing gleam of white panties up between her legs
as she fell, and a shiver of anticipation coursed through him. His eyes
were riveted on the expanse of smooth milky thigh which be could see
clearly, accustomed as he was to the dim light, and his prick gave an
excited spasm. His mouth was on fire from the passion of their kiss, and
it was all he could do to restrain himself from pouncing on her and taking
her right then and there. But he had other plans for his boss' hot pants
little wife. He knew right away what was on her mind when he had seen her
standing in the doorway, barely covered in that scrap of a dress, her face
painted like some street slut. She wants cock, that's what she wants,
even if she's fightin' it, and ol' Sam is only too ready to oblige the
boss' wife!
Sandra lay panting on the ground, her dress still askew, hardly
daring to move. She felt helpless. His kiss had overwhelmed her, and
although she wanted to get up and run from this dreadful place, she just
couldn't. She quivered as she felt his hands on her again, feeling,
squeezing, caressing, running down the length of her flattened body,
sending coarse shivers of pleasure rippling through her awakening flesh.
She sucked in her breath as she felt the roughness of his palm on her
naked thigh, felt it slither up the smooth creamy skin, realized that his
fingers were tugging at the soft flimsy material of her panties. Her head
was spinning, the brandy she had gulped down taking a loosening carefree
effect on her. She found her hips arching, to help him ease off the thin
nylon panties, and in a daze, she felt them sliding down over her hips and
thighs to her ankles, where they were discarded in a useless little heap
on the hay.
"Mmmmmmmm ..." she sighed as she felt his thick fingers graze against
the softness of her palpitating pussy lips, felt their tips dip against
the growing moistness of her velvet soft folds. She felt his hot breath
as he peered down at her, and then he plunged his middle finger into the
wet, viscous hole of her trembling cunt, and she jackknifed against him,
her legs shooting out on either side, to allow his invading fingers deeper
and easier access to the mounting furnace of her tight hot pussy. His
fingers grovelled around in the slippery channel of her cunt, drubbed the
hardened knob of her blood-filled clitoris, searched and probed among the
secret wet crevices and creases of her nubile young vagina. Her entire
body felt aflame, and she was lost in lust, oblivious of the fact of how
lewdly she was sprawled on the straw, how obscenely she spread her legs to
allow the workman to allow. It was what she wanted, the feel of male
hands on her body, to feel the rising beat in every pore of her flesh
which signalled the coming of the climax for which her love-starved body
craved. She didn't really care whose hands were manipulating her crotch,
whose fingers were whirling around inside her buttery-soft cuntal sheath.
She didn't care what happened! All she wanted was the joyous ecstasy of
release, and oh God, she was going to get it!
Sam smirked down at the twitching, writhing body spread out below
him. God, the high and mighty little bitch is really getting hot, she's
really ready for it now! Let's see what she thinks of the surprise Uncle
Sammy has for her ...
He withdrew his fingers from the excitedly pulsating lips of her
pussy and he heard her gasp with disappointment.
"Oh please, don't stop now ... I'm nearly there ..." the passion-
wracked woman sighed piteously.
Sam gave a laughing leer, and then snapped out: "Here, King!"
Sandra, in the throes of her thwarted orgasm, heard uncomprehendingly
Sam's command, and felt near to tears from her so nearly won climax. Oh,
if only he hadn't stopped ...
Then, it started again! Only this time, it was a thick wet tongue,
warm and curling, that was slavering along the quivering folds of her
passion-inflated pussy, sending eddies of new pleasure drifting through
her. She felt a momentary stab of horror at the thought of a tongue
licking so intimately up between her open legs, but it was lost in the
wave of pleasure which engulfed her, and eagerly, she thrust her pelvis
upward, grinding her bare bottom against the straw, bumping in crude tempo
with the frantic licking of the demonic tongue.
"Oh God Sam, it feels so good, so good she sighed, unable to control
the spasms of ecstasy convulsing her. She had to have more of it, she had
to have that tongue deeper inside her, had to feel it in every tiny nerve
end of her excitedly flooding pussy ...
Savagely, her hands reached down to force his face further and harder
down on the burning fulcrum of her body ...
Instead of Sam's wiry red hair, her hands met with soft silky fur,
long, satin-haired ears ...
"OH GOD NOOOOOOOOO ..." Her scream shattered the silence of the barn
as it reverberated throughout the high-ceilinged shed. Realization
dawned, followed by an immediate retching nausea, on the lust-demented
woman. Too late she remembered Sam's command, "Here, King!" Suffocated
with repulsion, she realized the truth. The dog was crouching down
between her thighs licking her vagina!
Sam was delighted with the progress of his plan. He derived a
perverse thrill from watching the golden shape crouched between his proud
screaming boss' wife's legs, watching the shivers of ecstasy which still
lingered, despite her almost insane revulsion at the act being performed
on her.
"Attaboy, King!" Sam praised, proud of the trick he had taught the
willing dog.
"For God's sake, Sam, make him stop ... please ..." the desperate
woman wailed, but even as she did so, new spasms of unbelievable sensation
were twisting her into incredible knots of sensual fervour. She couldn't
help it! It was too late for the revulsion and horror in her mind to
register with the rebellion in her body. It was too late!
"OOOOOhhhhhhhh, keep sucking ... keep succckkkiiinngg!!"
Her hands dashed down again and entangled themselves in the golden
fur on the dog's head, pressing his nose and swirling tongue further into
the wet, tangled flesh of her throbbing pussy. She felt the cold wet nose
press against the maddened bulb of her clitoris, felt his hairy shoulders
rub against her sensitive inner thighs. The dog was licking her pussy, and
she was loving it, and she was going to cum!
"AAAAAAZHHHHHHHHHH ... Ohmygod, I'm there ... I'm ...
cuummmmiiinnnggggg ..." Her shrieks rang out, and desperately she ground
her pussy down against the wet, lubricant soaked snout of the laboring
animal, her thighs closing in his head like a scissors, her buttocks
mashing uncontrollably against the hay, as wave after hot flushing wave of
tremendous pleasure washed over her, bringing her back again and again to
the shore of calmness, only to toss her once more in a raging sea of her
unleashed desire.
Finally, the cumming was over, and the dog slunk away from the
widespread legs of the exhausted woman, and padded over to Sam, who gave
him a perfunctory pat on his moistened head.
"Good boy, King," Sam beamed, his own prick a hardened lump of lust-
inflated flesh. His teeth bared in a sadistic leer, he headed over to
where the dazed woman was panting, trying to get her breathing back to
normal.
"Are you ready for me now, babe?" be rasped, hovering over her.
"Get away from me!" Sandra screamed with vitriolic suddenness, her
hands reaching up for Sam's face. He tried to slip to one side, but her
nails caught his cheek, raking it savagely, leaving four red weals of
crimson blood in their wake.
"You little bitch!" Sam spat, "Now, I'm really gonna teach you a
lesson ..."
But fear made Sandra agile, and she leaped nimbly to her feet,
heedless of her discarded shoes and panties, forgetting to pull down her
dress, and dashed towards the doorway, anxious only to escape this lewd
monster who had subjected her to such a debasing ordeal.
But the farm hand, too, was quick, and before she reached the safety
of the doorway, she felt his hand close viciously over her wrist.
"Oh, leave me alone ..." she sobbed helplessly, "let me go ..." She
tried to struggle, but it was useless. Sam was much the stronger of the
two, and he pinned her cruelly against the wall.
"Now, my haughty beauty," he snarled, "you'll have to make up to me
for this," his hand pointing towards his painful scratches.
"Take your filthy hands off me!" she screamed, revulsion shuddering
through her.
"WAAAGGGHHHHHHH ..." she screamed suddenly as she felt the full
weight of his open palm against her face. Tears sprung to her eyes and
cascaded down her face, stinging her smarting cheek.
"I'm sorry, Sam," she sobbed desperately, "please let me go."
"Don't forget it's my turn now! King had his chance," he snickered,
"now it's mine!"
"Oh please Sam, I couldn't take any more ..."
Sam's only answer was to wrench her dress higher still, and run his
hands down the quivering curve of her hips. She trembled under his rough
touch and tried to cringe against the cold cement of the wall, her soft
ovoid buttocks squashing against the hard surface. Terrified, she heard
the whirr of his zipper and then she heard Sam grunt.
"Look at what I've got for you, bitch!" he spat, and involuntarily,
Sandra's eyes dropped. In the semi-darkness she could just make out the
herculean erection of his bulging prick, and she couldn't suppress a gasp.
"Like it, eh?" he snarled, pressing closer, and then, Sandra felt the
slightly moistened head rub against her thigh, hard and rubbery and
relentless. Oh God, help me ... she sobbed inwardly, shrinking helplessly
against the wall.
She felt his hot breath coating her face and then his knee was
forcing itself between her clamped-together thighs, prying them apart. She
tried to hold them together, but couldn't. She moaned aloud as she felt
the hard rubbery head of his bulbous cock jut against her quivering
vaginal flesh, still moist and tingling from her so recent ecstatic
release. Lewdly, he teased the tip around the fleshy, blood-swollen outer
lips, nudging her tender membrane unbearably, parting the softly curling
pubic hair and guiding the monstrous erection inexorably towards the
small, trembling opening to her quaking body.
Sam held his aching prick poised against her sensitive little cuntal
hole, his eyes bulging at the sight of the frightened, shaking woman in
his power. He loved the feeling of mastery which he had, the knowledge
that he held in his hand the instrument which would he was sure, subjugate
her completely to his will. He couldn't believe it was really happening
at last, that his proud mistress was forced to bend to his wish. Now,
he'd pay her back for her nose-in-the-air attitude, show her that he was a
man, after all, and not just an automaton working on the farm. Yes, he'd
show her ... and with a brutal snarl, he lurched forward.
"AAAARRRRRGGGGHHHHHHHH ... Oh stop it, please stop it, it hurts, it
hurtttsss ..."
Sandra's hips thrashed wildly, trying to dislodge the huge, hardened
rod of driving male flesh which had succeeded in penetrating her, the hard
lipped head lodged just up inside the softness of her vaginal passage.
The pain of his sudden, splitting entrance blinded her, and her buttocks
were sore and raw from being forced back against the wall. Desperate, she
grasped the stocky shoulders of the hired hand and tried to force him
back, to give her some release from the shattering pain, but it was no
use. He didn't move, just surged forward again.
"UGGGHHHnnnnnnnnn ..." Sandra sobbed again under the force of another
thick inch being sunk up inside her tortured cunt. Sam was beside himself
with self-congratulation as he listened to the half impaled wife of his
boss' desperately pleading cries, and encouraged by her pain, continued to
press forward into the tender, widely stretching walls of her naked pussy.
"NOOOOOoooooooo ..." Sandra wailed again as with a bestial lunge, he
succeeded in sinking every widely-expanded inch of his pounding prick in
her wetly clasping glove-like interior.
He left his mammoth cock imbedded there for a moment, the rubbery
head tipping against the soft yielding membrane of her cervix, and then
began to withdraw it, looking gleefully at the tendrils of soft pink skin
and moistened pubic hairs which clung to the hardened pole. Then he
viciously rammed forward again, impaling the suffering woman as completely
as before, feeling the contracting interior of her vaginal wall throb
softly around his palpitating prick.
He began to fuck in and out of her, trying to establish a rhythm,
each forward thrust lifting the horrified girl completely off her feet,
crushing her tender ass-cheeks mercilessly against the rough wall, his
balls slapping like a wet towel against her moistened inner thighs.
Sandra felt mortified beyond imagination. Never had she felt so
debased in her whole life, not even when her husband had assaulted her
anally. Yet, she was fully aware that she had willingly come here, and
had submitted to his fingering, being aroused to the point where she no
longer had the will to fight when the dog had started licking her. She
had actually reached release from the animal's frantic licking! And now,
she was being fucked, yes, fucked, liked some two-bit whore, stood up
against the wall, her dress bunched lewdly around her hips, while this
lowly farm hand, her husband's employee, was pumping like a jack hammer
into her helplessly exposed vagina. God, she couldn't bear it!
"Hump back, baby. Put some life into that hot little pussy ..." Sam
panted as he swung his pelvis rhythmically, crashing into her like some
giant pendulum, "move that pussy of yours, you little bitch ... "
Sandra was revulsed by his crude words. Her body seemed to have
become immune to his coarse assault, and she no longer cared what happened
to her. She was lost, lost! Mike didn't care what happened to her, and
now Sam, their own employee, was using her as a receptacle for his own
debased desire.
As the impassioned workman continued to pound into her, Sandra again
began to feel the stirrings of change deep within her. At first, she
couldn't believe it was happening, but then, after a while, it was
undeniable. Needlepoints of lewdly kindled pleasure were beginning to
pinch her, sending little ripples of delight coursing through her. She
was beginning to enjoy it! Her rational mind was aghast at the lewd
rebellion in her body, and she tried to quell it, but it was no use. Her
body was reacting in an age-old way, over which she had no control. She
was a woman, and her womanly flesh was responding to a man's lustfully
driving cock inside her, the way it had from the beginning of time. Her
body and consequently her reactions were out of her control!
She began to mewl with pleasure through tightly clenched teeth,
unwilling to let her adversary know of his victory, but he had already
sensed her submission and was jubilant. Her body was more yielding,
fighting less and less against his intrusion, until finally it was swaying
in pagan rhythm with his own fucking, her hips grinding forward to welcome
his massive shaft deeply up inside her belly, her softly quivering
buttocks pressing hard back against the wall, to draw out the pleasure of
his slow, teasing withdrawals. Oh Christ, he thought dazedly, this is
better than I thought it would be ... the bitch really knows how to fuck
...
Sandra was moaning now with the intensity of her desire. Every
particle of her body was crying out for satiation, and her pores seemed to
open in welcome to the force of Sam's feverish screwing. Every nerve
ending was trembling with passion, and the ache in her loins grew with
each long, clean stroke of the hired hand's gigantic prick. She felt
aroused as she never had before. Mike had never been able to awake her to
this degree, and she had thought that she must forever forget true sexual
arousal as she felt sure it would be. But this crude, rough and ready
farm worker, by the very lewdness of his actions, had unlocked the key to
her responses, and was illiciting unknown reactions in her. She was
desperate for release, yet she hoped the wonderful sensations inside her
would never cease.
"Mmmmmmmm ... Sam, oh it's so nice, sooo nice ..." she gasped, her
hands shooting down and clasping his hips, pulling him closer to her. She
felt she couldn't have enough of him, and her pussy was sucking
desperately at his cock in an attempt to engulf more and more of his
delicious penis up inside it.
Sam was perspiring, his short frame hot and cold in turn as he fucked
wildly into the hungrily squirming woman. He knew that he couldn't hold
out any longer, and he wanted to, because this was definitely the best
fuck of his life. He wanted to make it last but ...
"Oh God woman, grind that ass of yours ... I'm ... going ... to ...
CUUUMMMMM ... !!! AHHHHHHHHH ... !"
Sam was gyrating like a whiplash, his pelvis crashing and battering
Sandra with renewed strength as he felt the rumble of his hot boiling
sperm deep in the darkness of his balls and then he felt the headlong rush
of the fomenting seed as it gushed along the pipe of his bulging prick and
rushed out in a frothy waterfall into the desperately sucking cavern of
Sandra's wildly writhing cunt. From the deep daze of his cumming, he
heard Sandra cry out in an agonized, delighted tone.
"UUUUUUMMmmmmmmmmm ... I'm cumming! I'm cumming! I'm ...
AAAAGGGHHHHHHHHH ..." And her body, too, was tossing like a gyroscope, a
bottle adrift at sea, the only lifeline being the relentless pole of Sam's
battering prick which continued to shoot incredible spurts of creamy
hotness into her hungrily contracting pussy. She continued to moan as the
rising tide of her orgasm swept over her like a tidal wave and finally
engulfed her, only it wasn't fearsome as she supposed, only sweet and
heavenly and gentle, bobbing her along on its crest like a complacent
gull, and she was riding the beautiful white surf, pleased and relaxed in
her new found proficiency, forgetting the reality of being fucked up
against the wall, remembering only the unbelievable sheets of pleasure
which billowed over her, bathing her with an ecstasy she had never
experienced before. It was Sam, the hired man, who had initiated her into
the wonderful realm of sun-drencbed pleasure, and as she felt his limp,
spent penis slip exhausted from her, and felt at last the quieting of her
own internal earthquakes, she slithered down onto the softness of the hay,
allowing herself, legs still spread wide, to drift off into a blissful
euphoria, into which Sam, and only Sam, had given her a ticket of
admission.
