Chapter 1

Cathy sat very still, trembling slightly, as her father unbuttoned her blouse.

He was drunk. She could smell the alcohol on his excited breath. But he wasn't so drunk he didn't know what he was doing.

Fred Dietz began to smile, then became serious. "You took Mary from me. You killed her ... killed your own mother ... killed my wife. ... " He fumbled the last button from its hole and spread Cathy's pink blouse to reveal her small, young breasts.

She wept and tried to turn away. "It wasn't my fault, daddy! The other car. ... "

"Don't give me any excuses! I don't want excuses! You've got to take your mother's place! That's fair. Isn't it?" He gathered her into his strong arms and pressed her tender flesh to his rough, wide-wale corduroy jacket. He rocked to and fro, to and fro, holding her prisoner, muttering his justifications.

Cathy didn't know what to do! She was nineteen, he was so big and strong, they were all alone in the farmhouse now, five days after the funeral, seven days after the accident that had killed her mother and left Cathy with only a few bruises.

Mary Dietz's death had hit Fred like a thunderbolt. He had been a happy-go-lucky, generous, hardworking man, a successful farmer of 245 acres of lettuce and onions and cabbage.

Overnight, since the accident since seeing his lovely wife's face ripped and gouged by glass and metal he had become a silent, brooding, heavy-drinking brute.

And now he was probably insane. The base of his life and his beliefs had been destroyed.

Abruptly, he held her away at arm's length, his big, strong fingers digging into her bare shoulders. His bleary gray eyes examined her small, perfectly formed breasts, her button-like pink nipples.

Cathy flushed. "Daddy!"

"You're nineteen. That's old enough. Mary 'n me were in the hay when she was your age. Got married right after. Best wife a man ever. ... "

He blinked and swallowed and closed his eyes. "DAMN YOU! You and your wanting to learn to drive!"

"It wasn't my fault!"

"Hell it wasn't! I saw the official report. I talked with the other driver! You ran Allen Junction! Didn't even slow down!" He shook Cathy violently. Her head snapped back and forth.

She burst into tears. Was it true? She couldn't remember. The seconds before the accident were hazy in her memory. All she recalled was her mother's scream, a blur of green car coming from the right, the terrible slamming impact, their car slewing, tilting, her mother's awful screams.

"You're a murderer! And by God, little girl, you're going to pay for it. Because if you don't make good what you've done ... if you don't take my Mary's place ... then it's ... the whole world is a fucking lie! Nothing makes sense! There's no point to anything if. ... "

He threw Cathy across the small living room to the overstuffed sofa. "It's either this, girl, or I kill you. There has got to be justice done here, one way or another. If there's a God in heaven, if there's any meaning to life at all, there's got to be justice here and now! You hear me?"

Cathy nodded miserably. Deep down she accepted his judgment, even though the official inquest hadn't blamed her. She had to make it up to him. "Get in the bedroom!"

She shivered with dread and a shameful excitement. "Daddy, I've never done it before."

He stood, swaying, blinking, for a few seconds. "You're cherry, huh? That's good. That makes it better. That helps even things a little more." He gestured roughly for her to go ahead.

Cathy stumbled as she entered the bedroom and saw the old brass bedstead that had been in the Dietz family for generations. Her throat tightened up and her belly felt sick. She wanted to turn and run, to bolt from the house.

But she went forward to the bed where her father and mother had made love only a week ago. And now her father was going to make love to her.

He clumped into the bedroom and slammed the door shut. He was a big man, six feet two, and weighed over two-hundred pounds. His blonde hair was crewcut he had never had anything but contempt for what he called "the shaggy-dog look". He always made fun of the long-haired boys who came to see her, and of Jerry, the hired hand who lived in the travel trailer out by the machinery barn.

"Get the rest of those clothes off. Get in under the covers."

Fighting a rising tide of fear, she obeyed. She turned her back to him and slid her skirt down. and then her panties. She made a quick, scurrying move under the covers. She pulled the sheet and thick quilt up to her chin.

Fred Dietz observed this, grunted, and said, "I'm still gonna get a good look at you naked, girl. And you're gonna get a good look at me, too."

A moment later she saw him naked. Her blue eyes widened. She had seen her father stripped to the waist often. She knew his wide bony shoulders, ropy arms and flat, ridged belly. But now...

His cock riveted her gaze. It was terrifyingly long as it hung down between his thick, powerful legs. It was like a horse but curved slightly to the left. And his sack hung a long way, too, fuzzy with blonde hairs.

He stood beside the bed, arms folded across his chest. He ordered, "Take hold of it. Get a good feel of it. Make it feel good."

Cathy licked her lips. Her mouth was dry. She couldn't look away from his cock. She reached out from under the covers and gingerly touched it.

It was surprisingly cool. It was strange to touch a cock. She let her fingers curl around the shaft. She lifted it and examined the purplish, exposed head. She supposed he was circumcised because the skin wouldn't slide forward to cover the head.

He stood looking, nodding. "Play with it. Play with it. Get it really hard."

Cathy trembled. Wasn't it hard now? Could it possibly get bigger?

She squeezed and tried to bend the massive thing. It yielded like rubber. She made a fear sound in her throat. She whispered, "It's too big!"

"Hell, Mary loved it. You will, too, once you've had it a while. Stands to reason you're built to take it just like she was. Big mules run in our family. My dad had one on him would make a cow think twice. He said his dad was hung like a horse. The Dietz men are real men, and we always pick women who like deep fucking. No point in marrying some girl can't accommodate a real man and who don't like to be fucked."

Cathy made a face. "How big is it?"

"Dunno. Hell of a lot bigger than most. And it's all going into your belly, and that pretty damn soon, so make up your mind to make the best of it."

He reached down and threw back the covers, exposing Cathy to her knees.

She made a reflexive, abortive move to cover her cleft with her free hand, but then let him see what he wanted. She was slim, with narrow, boyish hips, and hardly any pubic hair at all, and that so fine and pale blonde that it was almost invisible. Except for her small, lovely breasts she appeared a child.

She edged away from him. He easily burrowed a long arm under her back and slid up against him.'I'm going to teach you how to take a big man, and I'm going to teach you how to suck me off like your mother did."

He saw the shock in Cathy's eyes. He laughed. "You think Mary never did things like that? She took to it like a calf takes to the teat."

He took Cathy's hand and guided it to his huge cock. "Play with it. Think some on sucking it." he put his hand on her left breast and caressed with surprising gentleness and skill. His big, thick fingers tenderly rubbed the nipple between them, causing tingles in Cathy that astonished her and shamed her.

Tears trickled down her cheeks. "Daddy, I loved mother too. I didn't want her dead. I didn't!"

He continued to caress and touch. Cathy's nipples turned to itchy pebbles. He said, "You two was always fighting. Always picking at each other."

"But I didn't want her dead!"

Fred tensed with rage. "WELL, SHE IS DEAD! AND I HOLD YOU RESPONSIBLE, GIRL!" His alcohol breath puffed in Cathy's face. She turned her face away, weeping, miserable, ashamed, afraid.

Cathy had played around a little with boys ... kissing and petting and some furtive touching. Brian Gerber from the next farm was the latest ... he was her unofficial boyfriend ... and she had let him feel her up twice, to the point where he had kissed her nipples and wormed a finger into her and gotten her so hot something had happened a kind of release.

She remembered it very clearly; the hot glow in her loins and the excitement, the weird pressure that made her more and more agitated. Then a feeling of out-of-control, a sense of possession of some rushing force in her body, and a sweet tide of pleasure that had burst in her loins. She had panted and moaned helplessly, clutching at him. It was wonderful.

She hadn't seen Brian since her mother's death. Everyone in the area had come to the funeral, of course.

"Look at me. Look at me!"

When she obeyed, sniffling, watery-eyed, he kissed her on the mouth. It was open-mouthed, and his tongue tried to enter.

Cathy struggled and made no sounds, but he held her and persisted, locked her in his iron grip ... and after a dozen long seconds she seemed to go weak inside and her tensed mouth softened, and her lips yielded, and his tongue entered her mouth and he grunted with satisfaction.

Cathy fought the terrible excitement that began to pervade her body and mind. She withheld her tongue from the kiss, but he flicked his tongue deep into her mouth, touched here and there. And his hands slid again to her naked little breasts and rearoused her nipples to fiery little pink stones. Her breast seemed small furnaces, radiating heat.

In spite of all she could do, her breathing quickened. She couldn't get enough air.

Fred seized her right hand and placed it on his as it rubbed and enlarged the hole in her hymen.

His hot mouth left her mouth and he commanded again, "Play with it!" She hadn't been doing anything with his huge cock. Her attention had been centered on her loins.

Cathy gripped the warm shaft and began stroking up and down. Her hand was too small to enclose it. The feel of his big thing now excited her. The hug maleness of him, the power, the terrifying prospect of all this length and thickness and hardness being thrust into her excited her in a perverse way she didn't understand.

Cathy shivered and opened her eyes and watched her hand manipulate the giant organ. The purplish head with its slit fascinated her. She half-imagined the slit was an eye and that it watched her, winked at her.

Her father's cock was very hard now, and he was breathing hard, his alcohol breath seemed to envelope her head. He explored her cunt deeply and shallowly, always seeking to loosen the opening, to widen it, to prepare her for the invasion to come.

Cathy licked her lips nervously, fearfully, wanting and yet not wanting. Her loins were glowing hot, sparkling from the fingerfuking, from the constantly rubbed sensitive clitoris.

Abruptly, he said roughly, "That's enough. You're plenty juicy. Time to break you in." He reared over her. His large, bony knees wedged between her slim thighs.

Sudden terror flooded her. She tried to roll away, to escape. "No, daddy, please no! You'll hurt me! You'll rip me!"

"Maybe a little bit, the first time. Got to expect that, girl. You're gonna be a woman in a few minutes." He pried her thighs further apart.

Cathy was close to vomiting with fear. Her eyes were wide blue pools of dread. Her mouth was contorted. She didn't know how to fight. She could only pant with terror and fling her head this way and that. She dared not hit at him; she knew it would only enrage him and cause him to beat her. And he'd still do what he wanted to do.

She felt the head of his giant cock prod into her cleft. Her hips tried to shrink away, but there was nowhere to go. She felt the pressure of insertion, the straining, the pain as her remnant of hymen yielded and tore. She screamed as the massive cock surged deep into her belly, stretching her inside, forcing her channel to expand.

Fred Dietz grunted and muttered drunken satisfaction. He grinned and worked his hips and sank more and more cock into his daughter's engorged, virginal cunt.

But he was careful. Even drunk he was considerate to a degree. He watched her face for extremes of pain, and lessened a thrust, a too-deep plunge. He took his time once the entry was completed, once his monstrous cock was embedded in her tight, spasming vagina.

As the first shock and terror of her deflowering passed, Cathy existed in a personal world of intense body-knowledge. There was the ring of fire that was her torn hymen, there was the weird, entrancing sensation of his thick, long cock inside her body, there was the gorged feeling of containing too much, there was the movement in her belly, the thrusting, and there was the strange beginning glow in her loins. And there was a deep inner satisfaction, a dreadful happiness, that she didn't want to know.

Fred Dietz kept on and on, fucking his daughter, making it last, chuckling as he noted the gradual change of expression on her tear-streaked face. She wasn't crying anymore. She was quiet, breathing hard, avoiding his eyes, gripping the sheets with tightening fingers.

He whispered, "Getting to liking it, huh?" He kept on watching her face as he screwed her, as he ran his cock slowly in and out, as he gradually pressured deeper and deeper, working fat, rigid inches of cock into her tight, wet, hot cunt. Deeper ... and deeper ... and deeper.

Cathy was more and more aware of the pleasure. The fire of her entrance was fading as the stimulus of stronger sensations tended to cancel the pain in her nervous system.

She was in her mind a long, dark red tunnel, and she was host to an immense ram that surged into her length and battered at her quivering, yielding depth, forcing ever more room for its endless shaft. Each plunge of the ram brought a gasp, a shudder, a new, gradual deepening of the hot glow that was permeating her lower body.

There were sounds ... her father's gasps, his selfish, pleasured grunts, the creak of the old bed, the steady, embarrassing squeak-squawk of the springs, and her own pantings, gasps, catches of breath.

He gasped, "Getting there ... getting there

Cathy barely heard him. She was immersed in the sudden tide of hot pleasure that erupted in her loins, electrifying her, causing her to whimper with shame and the agony of climax. She cried out, "No, no, I don't want it!" But it was a lie, and the pleasure shook her and impelled her loins to jerk up, to take more, to seek with blind greed for more cock.

Her father grunted and leered and fucked all-out, driving the last extra-thick inch into her quivering, spasming cunt, jolting her, slapping her flexing, taut belly with his rigid, muscled stomach, causing a whimpering, keening shriek in her throat, causing a wild flailing, a manic, wild-eyes return fucking, a fierce clawing gripping of his arms by her suddenly strong fingers.

Cathy gave herself up to the overwhelming orgasmic pleasures, to the demonic lusts in her mind and body. Great shudders wracked her body, especially her rippling belly.

Her father's thrusts were shattering, gigantic, as he climaxed. He hissed and roared, bellowed, swore, cursed, and his cock, rock-hard, spewed semen like a fountain in her clenching, clonic, jelly-fist cunt.

And then he was finished, flopped on the bed beside her, arms flung wide, big chest heaving, his long, softening, wet cock shrinking, leaving a wet track on his lower belly.

Cathy was dazed, her entire body still pulsing with the sweet afterglow of that terrifying, shattering climax.

Fred Dietz sighed deeply three times. He sat up and looked around. He looked at his daughter and he scowled. He left the bed and began to dress.

Cathy rolled over onto her stomach. She buried her face in the pillow and began to weep again. Great, wracking sobs shook her.

Her father picked up his corduroy jacket and said, "Okay, girl, you're a woman now. No going back. You're my woman. You cook for me, clean for me, and you spread for me when I want you. I've got me a big farm to run, and I don't want no trouble from you."

He took two steps to the doorway. "I'm taking Jerry into town for supplies and we'll eat supper at Mabel's Place. So you don't have to cook tonight. You can clean yourself up and get yourself settled in your mind. I won't be wanting to screw you for a while, till you heal some and get the handle of things around her, more 'n now anyway. But you are my woman now, for sure, so think on it that way and act on it that way, and we'll get on fine."

He paused. "You hear me?"

Cathy wailed, "Yes!"

He grunted and left the house.