Chapter 1
Months later a social worker was to prompt me, "So this man deflowered you and you told nobody but your fourteen-year-old sister. Go on, Carol."
"Winnie Joe and I were very close," I told her. "And I guess nooky stuff was a favorite topic as we lay in bed hugging together at night."
Seemed funny to hear it called deflowered. I was seventeen and a virgin when it happened, or at least up until then I'd never had a man's finger poked into me. Mel Blossom got me down and screwed me, but I don't think there was a flower other than weeds within a mile of the farm where we lived.
T. Melville Blossom was his full name, the assessor of Bindale County, and he owned the eighty-acre farm. We Weavers, Daddy, Winnie Jo and myself, had a cottage on the south forty. Dad did most of the work on the farm, although Winnie Jo and I rode the cultivator and got out there with a hoe once in a while, too.
My father was a fine-looking man, with powerful shoulders and a sort of proud walk. I used to love just to see him stride across a room. But after our mother skipped out, he turned weak in other ways, lost his good principles. Like he'd drink too much of his own moonshine and waste the little money we had hustling after women. He took naked pictures of them, too, then sold the prints in a pool hall.
Winnie Jo and I never discussed our mother although I know we both often thought of her, wondering where she'd gone, was she sick or something and if she'd forgotten us. I was only nine when she left with a man she'd been writing to. He had sent her some money.
He drove up for her in a Buick with Texas license plates, off they went and we've never seen or heard from her since.
That day when Dad came home and found her gone was the first time I remember seeing him really drunk. Mother had scrawled across his bureau mirror with lipstick, "Go fuck yourself, you crazy drunk." She had a craving for smart clothes, going places with money to spend and I guess we never had enough. Winnie Jo and I didn't know at that time what that expression meant except that we guessed it was pretty insulting to Dad.
This afternoon when my cunny took its first dinger Mel Blossom had sent Daddy over to Kansas City on business, he said. That was not too unusual. Mel's wife Loretta-we always called her Miz Blossom-was supposed to be home but wasn't. Winnie Jo stayed in town after school playing ping-pong with some other kids. I'd baked bread and was eating a hot crust of it with butter when Mel's big Oldsmobile stopped by the cottage.
"Get in, Carol," he said. "Something I want you to do for me up at the house."
I was barefoot, wearing thin cotton hot pants, undies, a scarf tied around my apple-sized tits, that's all. As I got into the car I caught Mel peeping at my tight crotch and down between my buddies. The way his eyes tried to eat up my privates excited me, turned me angry with him, still I didn't tighten the scarf to hide the nipples or close my legs together.
The skin of my belly gleamed white and pretty compared with Mel Blossom's old hide which was a dried-up brown like the adobe earth. He was in his early fifties, with black hair and a broad, fat face behind large-framed glasses. When he was making a political speech his hazel eyes opened wide so he'd look like the voters' honest friend. Right now when he had a hard-on for me his face wore a bullgut squint.
That slitted, gobbling gaze put the fear to me. My mouth worked to tell him 'Stop staring at the seat of my pants!' But I didn't say it. We always had to think of how badly Daddy needed his job with the Blossoms. Miz Blossom was always threatening to run us all out because of Dad's drinking.
Mel wore a pretty blue sport shirt open at the throat. He licked his lips and I had to forbid myself imagining how that big tongue would feel sloshing up and down on my bare pussy.
Sure, I thought of kicks like that. Winnie Jo and I had done our share of playing and licking. When I'd bring my sister out with a good one she'd tell me I had the tongue of an angel, but of course our tricks in bed weren't very angelic. We'd only diddled each other's clitty with a finger at first, then I'd learned from an underground paper called 'Go Down' of how swingers did it with their tongues.
I guess Winnie Jo and I had fun with our pussies because what else exciting was there to do that didn't cost good money? Between Daddy and Miz Blossom's keeping constant tabs on us, and our being stranded out on the farm, I hardly ever got a date with a boy and Win didn't even want one.
I've masturbated ever since I was old enough to explore the slit between my legs with my finger, and I guess Winnie Jo has, too. You might call it our something in a nothing world.
Sleeping together, it didn't take us long to learn it was keener fun to do it double.
I didn't want Mel to screw me, I really didn't. If I'd though that's what he was up to, I'd never have gotten into the car with him. Winnie Jo and I loved to cuddle together, each with a hand between the other's legs, but I was pretty skittish of going into a clench with a boy, and Win fought like a young tiger if a boy even touched her.
Mel Blossom drove with his knees spread apart, to leave room for the big hunk under the fly of his pants. I could see the bulge of his pecker there, trying to poke out straight, sort of hefting itself with rising throbs. I didn't peek at it particularly. Up until then, I'd thought of a man's dickie as a pretty uppy front tail. Of course I didn't know yet what it was like to feel one in me.
I'd felt other things, but more on the outside of my diddly than in. Sometimes Daddy had me run the tractor, harrowing or cultivating a field. It was easy, monotonous work. I fixed a cushion out of an old piece of foam rubber because I said the tractor seat was hot and hard on my tender bottom, the way the tractor jounced around. But when nobody could see me, I bunched the cushion between my legs and it felt good when I pressed my nervous crotch down on it.
When I told Winnie Jo about it, she hollered for her turn to drive the tractor. That kid had a lot of ideas. She'd take a piece of thick weed stalk and skin the tough rind off, leaving a spongy but fairly hard small stick. She'd reach this down inside her jeans and panties, fit it just so along the top of her slit and get really marvelous feelies when the cushion pressed it hard to rub against her beanie.
A girl can make herself come with a little weed rod like that. I know because I've done it. I wouldn't have to stick it into my vagina. I'd just fit it snug between the lips at the top of the slit and away I'd go. Win never wanted anything poking inside her bush except maybe my finger and that not far. I like a teaser on the left side of my clit but I understand other girls have other styles.
Besides Daddy, the only hired help on the farm was Graydon, Miz Blossom's chauffeur, and he'd- driven her to Independence in the Pontiac. So there was nobody around the house except Mel Blossom and myself. My hand was grabbed by his great brown paw. He led me into the house through the kitchen, down the hall and into the bedroom.
"What's the big idea?" I said. I was getting pretty scared. All Mel had to do was unzip his pants and that big jock would come stabbing out at me.
There were two beds in the room. Winnie Jo and I had wondered if Mel and Miz Blossom still screwed. Of course it would be no sweat for him to mosey over to the other bed and climb onto her.
"I guess you kids know all about ladies' twat vibrators and such gadgets."
Still holding me tight by the hand, he pulled me over to Miz Blossom's vanity. Seeing in the mirror the scared, blue-eyed, freckled-faced,, dark-ash blonde that was me didn't help my cool any. The full lips, the wide mouth. The top curves of my bare bubbies, with the pink jutting nipples plain to see through the thin scarf. And you could call my hot shorts my pussy pants, the center of attraction was so obvious.
Mel Blossom's greedy eyes didn't miss a thing and he wasn't the slow kind to keep his hands off. He had his arm around me now, holding one of my tits, squeezing it.
"Shit, but you're built, Carol." His breath was coming gusty. I could smell the old cigar smoke on it. "You aren't frightened of Mel, you pretty thing, you?"
"You'd better take your hands off me!"
"Aw, now, I haven't even had a good feel of you yet. Can't we skip the don't-you-dare-touch-me crap?" He stopped tweaking the nipple of my tit for the moment but still had his arm tight around me and he held my hand. "I could help, cutie. I could do big things for you."
"Oh, leave me alone! I know all about the big thing you'd like to shove up into me."
"You wised-up kids! But say, that's why I want your opinion of this doohicky of Loretta's."
With the hand that wasn't holding me, he pulled open a drawer. "Just feel what she's got hidden under her pants."
He was putting me on, what did Miz Blossom have hidden under her pants. But I still hoped I could get out of there unfucked. So I reached beneath his wife's stack of fancy underwear: Then I let out a yelp. My hand came in contact with what felt like a snake.
"Go on," Mel said. "Take it out and look at it."
I knew what it was then. I'd never held one in my hand before but I'd seen them advertised in the 'Go Down' paper. It was an artificial eight-inch penis, made of red rubber, circumcised, with a long curved head, and a little lump on the top to the rear end of it.
"Now, what do you suppose Loretta would want a thing like that for?" Mel said, pretending he didn't know. "Does she sit and admire it when she's naked and horny? Do you suppose she sticks it up into her hot cunt?"
Still holding the red thing I was wordless. My eyes blinked misty with being mad and I didn't know what else. I saw Mel gloating, thinking himself pretty smart because he'd made me redden. I think even my tits were burning, and I had a tight, itchy feeling in my crotch.
"What's the world coming to that a respectable woman like Loretta would want to fuck herself with that rubber pecker-whaddya call it?"
"Oh, for heaven's sake! It's a dong with a stimulator." I knew that much and so of course did Mel.
"Well, you don't say! Okay, so she goes ding-dong up her hot box. But why a piece of rubber when she could have this?" He reached down to pat the dinger-bulge in his pants, and in spite of my being scared and not wanting him to screw me, something made me take a quick look. Then I had to look again when he unzipped his pants, let that long horny stick of meat leap out, pink and peckering.
I jerked my head away from the sight but I was all upset, because that dickie had fascinated me. I looked down and saw my hand holding the rubber prick give it an involuntary squeeze.
I didn't peek any more but I knew Mel was stroking his dickie. "You'd think if Loretta wanted cock, she'd go for this juiced-up one, now, wouldn't you? You'd go for it, too, wouldn't you cutie? Don't try to kid me. I saw you go goggle-eyed admiring Mr. Peter.
Come on, see how it stands up and waggles. Yeah, Carol, why don't you take a feel, because it's ready to fuck you good like a stiff cock should." All I could blurt out was, "I don't want any of that stuff. You turn me loose now so I can go home." I tugged my hardest. We staggered around but I couldn't get away.
"Stop putting on an act, you're a hot little piece, we both know that, hah? Didn't we decide we weren't going to waste time with any of that big scared crap?" I would have put the dong back in the drawer but he wouldn't let me. He shoved it in through the clutch of my fingers, back and forth, as though my hand was a pussy and that thing was screwing into it. "Tell me, what's this little tit on the rear of the rubber pecker for? Now I'll admit my own jock doesn't have one of those little knobs."
"You know as well as I do it's the clit-teaser for when the dong's all the way in."
"In where, you little cock-teaser?"
"Ohhh, in the woman's cunt! Now that you've made me say that, will you please let me go, Mr. Blossom?"
"Well, scratch my balls, what won't they think of next?" Mel knew all about it, of course. He was just pushing it at me. "Let's see you try it, Carol. Come on, chickie, show old Mel how you stick it in good?"
"Don't be silly! You leave me alone."
"So you won't let me see you poke it into your cunt? All right, then. Put it back in the drawer. Pull down Loretta's panties and you'll find the place to put that rubber prick, won't you? Ha ha!"
I leaned over to lay the dong back under Miz Blossom's underwear, but then I did have to dance and holler. Mel moved in right behind me. He goosed me with his fingers working like mad on my pussy through my cotton hot pants and bikini.
His other arm held me hard around the waist. "Sure, squeal," he said, his voice thick. "I like what you've got for me, chickie, and there's nobody else close enough to hear." He was stronger than I'd ever thought, with his hand beneath my crotch, lifting me clear off my feet. And what his fingers were doing to my pussy!
I was all mixed up mad because I felt so mauled and helpless and the heat swirling up through my body put me in a frantic rush, a shame-panic as though I were standing up in high school to recite and felt myself peeing my pants and having a terrific orgasm at the same time.
I kicked and squirmed until he had to let go of me between my legs. "Got a good rise out of you, didn't I?" he teased without mercy. He'd pulled my hot pants about half off me and the scarf around my tits had come loose, leaving one standing completely nipple-buttoned bare and the other almost.
Mel yanked the scarf all the way off, dropped it on the floor, held me from behind, his rough hands cupping my tits, fingers jiggling the nipples. "Yeah, yeah." He was breathing hard and I could have told him he was getting a big rise out of it, too. "Yeah, chickie, I like those young apples. Say, you hold still now and I'll kiss 'em up for you, make you buzz like a honeybee."
"No, you don't!" I yelled, but it was like he said, nobody was around to hear me.
He got a tight hold of my head, held it while he kissed me on the mouth. His chest moved deep against me taking in air and I could see the sweat on the large frame glasses he wore. "Carol, no kidding, I'm mighty fond of you. Young stuff." He bent my body into his stomach. "I'm tired of poking into Loretta's old twat, you understand me?"
"Stop it, or I'll tell my father. Miz Blossom, too."
"Go right ahead." The sound of his not-caring laugh made me choke and sob. He wasn't at all scared that Daddy and his wife would find out he was raping me. And who else would ever care besides Winnie Jo and she was too little to fight him off. I was proud of still being a virgin, a lot of the girls I knew at school weren't. Now this sweaty man squinting through his big-eyed glasses would take me and I'd become one more loser.
He said, "Loretta knows the score. We made a deal. Your Dad, too. Why'd you suppose he's over in KC, if that's where he's really at?"
I wrestled with him. I'd worked enough to have developed a little muscle, but he held me easily from behind so I couldn't knee him in his balls. I could feel his bare pecker wagging as I twisted and turned, tried to pull loose. Tiny dribbles off the head of it wet my leg.
He worked my hot pants loose enough so they slid down. My undies were not much bigger than a handkerchief. When he reached his sweaty hand down my front, inside them, over my mound to the slit, I got my right arm free and swatted my fist up into his face, making him stagger.
But that only made him more wrathy, didn't stop him. He yanked my bikini down over my fanny, let it drop, then he cracked me several times there with his open palm so hard I yelped and cried. I couldn't help it. I felt so bad and hurting. But I swore at him, too. "You fat-bellied old piss pot!"
That was no good, brought only more hard cracks. My eyes couldn't see for crying.
"Say now, Carol, how'd you like the feel of my stiff cock against your bare ass?" And when I wouldn't answer, whack, whack! He held me while he pressed that meat stick against my rear, rubbed and rolled it, wetting me.
I had to say, "Yes, I feel it." I was gasping in pain. My hot pants and bikini were around my feet. "Please let me get dressed now?"
As if he'd turn me loose until he'd screwed me! For answer, her swung me up so that I rose away from even those clothes, was left bare-naked from head to feet. He shoved me over to one of the beds and back down on it.
"You're going to take cock, Carol. You've been asking for it, shaking your hot ass and tits in my face. Okay, are you going to lie down quiet there on that bed or do I have to " beat the crap out of you, then fuck you while you're unconscious?"
I didn't answer. I just shut my eyes and lay still. I wasn't talking up for any more of his beating. A minute later the bed jounced as he got on it with me. I opened my eyes to see him over me, on his hands and knees, with that big whanger jiggling over my navel. It was stiff and throbbing to poke into me. He was all bare, too. I could see his fat belly with the crease across it that his belt had made. He moved me so I was lying on my back, then he spread my legs apart.
His cigar breath was so strong that I thought I was going to be sick. But when he kissed me, I didn't seem to smell it any more. Why, I don't know, since his tongue was in my mouth, licking around. He lay on his side, kissing me, one hand fooling with my tits and the other stroking up and down over my mound and pussy.
He nudged his pecker against my thigh but not bearing down because he didn't want to shoot off before he'd got it into my cunt. I took hold of it as though it were my sweet candy stick, milked it. I was trying to bring out the juice so it would go limp but he slapped my hand away. "Don't yank it so hard or I'll make you suck it."
"You can't force me to suck it," I goaded him. That might let me escape from being raped.
I felt sure I could make him squirt, then he'd be out of soup for a while and I'd still be a virgin.
He only said, "Shit, but you're a hot piece. I should have got onto you long ago." He took off his glasses and put them on the bureau. I scrambled off the bed but stumbled, and he caught me. He threw me back down. "Pretty crusty but that's okay." He kissed me some more, on my mouth and throat and boobs.
He had two fingers between the lips of my pussy, one of them crooking into the tender opening. I tried not to think of his doing that, tried not to get hot for him. I closed my legs but he only spread them wide apart again and after that I lay still. Except for a little bouncing as I took his fingers in my vagina and on my clit, I couldn't keep still while that was going on.
I'd let Winnie Joe finger-fuck me so often that my body had pretty well made out to those thrills. I guess my sex nerves hardly knew the difference between Win's sweet-loving pressures and this tacky man's. Still her finger was little and gentle compared to Mel's.
"You've got a swell muff, cutie. I like a young girl's full beard. You know Loretta has lost almost all the hair off her cunt?"
It hurt where his rough hand pinched and pulled the hair. I knew now that I'd never get away from him unfucked and I wished he'd hurry and get it over with. My hands were on the bare skin of his back. I didn't know whether I wanted him to kiss me any more or not, but my mouth opened for air, stayed open as his tongue slid in between my jittery lips.
"You want it now, chickie?" Big Mel was panting like a dog. "You hot for cock?"
I didn't say anything. I thought so long as I had to take it in me, it would hurt less if I guided it. I reached down and there was Mel's pecker fat and pulsing in my hand. With my other hand, I parted the lips of my pussy and nudged the juicy head of it against the tiny opening.
I hunched up, was going to let it ease in, but Mel was impatient. He rammed it into me all the way. It hurt like fury. I wanted to double up with the pain. He saw that and muttered a self-satisfied, "Yeah!" He felt himself the big bullgut taking my virginity, socking it to me.
The burning pain was all I could think of at first. Was I torn apart and bleeding? But afterwards, I saw that I hadn't bled at all.
Mel lay on me full length, jabbing me, planting his big dick to full depth, then not so deep, and at each push and twist, it chafed my cunt. One of his hip bones dug into my side and bruised me, too, but I wasn't even thinking of that.
Even when the pain was sharpest, there were hot tingles that I'd never really felt right there before in my life. The way little flashes shot through me surprised me with what I knew must be fucking pleasures, deeply different from the way I'd get excited when Winnie Jo licked my pussy.
Mel was between my legs. He had me down and there was no getting away from his hard screwing. When he pulled up my legs, I wound them over his and before I knew it, I was humping along with him, tightening and relaxing the cheeks of my bottom to his plunges.
I asked myself what's the matter with me that I'm putting up to this awful man? But there it was. I knew I'd be disappointed now if he were suddenly to stop fucking me. After all my fighting him, I wanted Mel to bring me out with release from this itchy burning.
Not that I'd give in and tell him. Anyhow, right now I didn't have enough breath to speak.
But every so often when he eased up and lay quietly on me, I couldn't help but hug his chest to my tits. It seemed to touch my nipples with a mystic fire.
He would ease off, then come on strong again, to make it last longer, so he wouldn't be shooting his gism before he knocked me off. I didn't ease my ass movements. I couldn't lie still any more. I had my eyes shut but I knew I was naked and hot and being fucked. I stopped thinking of Mel's doing it. He didn't count any more. He was just a body making these wonderful sensations come alive in me.
I felt a come, a big one stirring. It rose up out of my heat and happened, and it was pleasure-pain to beat them all, a deep shuddering that I had to go for, no matter what. I humped up hard and wriggled to take him. Then it was up and over all of me, zipping every nerve in my body, just about the time I felt Mel's dinger squirting semen inside me.
He got off. "How do you like being laid, Carol?"
At once then my mind switched back to Mel's having got me down and I didn't love him. I loathed him. "So that's all the size of you?" I said to hurt. "Any girl that wants your hot dog in her can have it, but spare me. You turdy old potbelly!"
He was shocked that I'd talk like that right when he kidded himself he'd won me. "The hell of a thing to say to a man in the prime of his life!" I'd got to him, smacked him in his pride.
Still another part of him was crowing away because he knew he'd made me come to him. I scrambled off the bed before he clouted me, ran into the bathroom. There I washed his slicky come off my body hair and underneath. He followed me, came up behind me as I bent over with a washcloth in my hand, gave me pats and feels. He asked me, worrying, "You won't get knocked up, will you?"
I shook my head. I was just two days past my period.
"Will you start taking the pill if I give you some for your own protection? You don't want to get big with my baby growing in you?"
"Please, hell, no!" He took some pills from a cabinet, handed them to me. There were several cards with pills strung along for different dates, a big supply. I accepted them without saying anything; he was paying for them.
"One card is for Winnie Jo." He leered at me. "She needs a little hot rod, too, huh, cutie?"
"You!" The cards of pills dropped from my hand to the tiled floor of the bathroom. I was so mad. "If you ever lay your dirty hands on my sister, I'll kill you!"
"Shit!" He got that true word, all right, backed off scared. "Okay, okay, hold your fire."
I clamped my lips, saying nothing. When he tried to pat me, I slapped him across the stomach.
"Ummm, look, "Carol. If I promise not to touch Winnie Jo, will you put it up for me when I want it, without any snot and that pretending you're scared shitless crap?"
I glared at him. But Winnie Jo was just a kid. He could manhandle her rough, throw her down and put it to her. Keenly sensitive as she was to any man's even touching her it would practically kill my sister, destroy any chance of her having normal relationship with boys. "All right, maybe I'll screw with you once in a while under that condition."
"Hey, only once in a while? You'd better get bigger-hearted, cutie." He led me back into the bedroom, rummaged in his pants pocket and wallet, handed me a twenty-dollar bill.
"You like your nooky when it earns you one of these?" I allowed him a nod, took the money. Mel was rich, not from farm crops I'd heard, But from his crooked deals as county assessor.
"You're hot stuff, Carol." He kissed me on the lips, then on my bare nipples, made them pucker out again. "I don't mind saying you're the slicket piece of tail I've had in I don't know when. Didn't my old jock get to you as good as any of those young bucks?"
"I couldn't say, you bastard." I couldn't call him Mr. Blossom to be polite. "Yours is the first cock I've ever felt in me." The enormity of what had happened hit me like a rush of sickness. "I was a virgin and you raped me!"