Chapter 9
Cathy stood, naked, in the doorway of the house and watched Fred and Jerry drive away in the pickup. But Jerry wouldn't be coming back. His time was up, he had his last paycheck and he wouldn't be back. He hadn't spoken to her ... hardly a dozen words since that time in the bedroom.
He'd treated her like a loathsome creature, she thought. He'd been polite, but she had seen it in his eyes. The contempt. The judgment.
She blinked rapidly and her cheek twitched. She turned away from the doorway, small fists clenched. She wondered if Fred would bring back a new hand. Someone with a big...
She growled and ran into the kitchen. She took a beer from the fridge and popped it carelessly, letting the spume spray the floor. She drank and stared resentfully at the pile of dishes in the sink.
Her right hand strayed to her loins. She began fingering herself ... teasing her vulva, tickling the tiny clitoris ... giving herself tiny quivers of pleasure.
It only made her want Fred back so she could get him to fuck her again. The past week it had been strange how he grew more and more reluctant as she grew more willing, eager and demanding.
But it wasn't her. It was her hungry cunt. It yearned for his huge cock. It schemed for it, pleaded for it. Made her act like a shameless whore...
Cathy looked down and saw she had stuffed three bunched fingers into herself, and was pushing, squirming. ... It felt good, but cunt wanted that big, fat cock that hung between his strong thighs.
She gave a cry and, trembling, straightened up and ran to the bathroom to shower. She was going crazy. She knew it. She almost welcomed it. She had Fred, but she was going crazy. That was amazing.
She didn't care about having clothes any more. He could keep them locked up in the barn forever.
Being naked in daylight didn't bother her any more at all. Nothing bothered her, except when her cunt didn't get its way.
She went into the bedroom and sprawled face down on the bed and began to weep. She couldn't stop. She began to sob, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
Cathy sat in a corner of her mind and observed all this and wondered what there was to be so sorry for? The rest of her knew, maybe even cunt knew, but it was information walled away.
Was this what was called a nervous breakdown? She didn't like it. She knew her cunt wanted to go on and on, filling the days and nights with Fred's wonderful cock. Cunt was even willing to get pregnant to please him. To keep his cock in her as much as possible, that was what cunt wanted.
Cathy shivered. She had to get away. No. She had to try to get away. That was the way it was supposed to.
She wailed aloud and sprang off the bed. She ran out of the house to the barn. She took a sledge hammer and, panting, howling without knowing it, broke the lock on the big storage chest.
She dressed in panties, shirt and jeans. She put on socks and walking shoes. She went back across the yard to the house, muttering, "No ... yes, yes, I will ... it's stupid! Shut up, you cunt! Girl, you've just got to make up your fucking mind! I want free! I WANT FREE!"
She stood in the living room, shaking like a leaf.
She blinked and twitched ... and she couldn't take another step. She was immobile. Locked tight. At war.
Cathy growled like an animal. She wept. She quivered.
She was still standing there when Fred returned from town. She heard him slam the pickup door shut and crunch across the yard toward the house.
He called, "Got my lunch ready!"
She staggered, almost fell, and took a deep shuddering breath. She ran into the kitchen and shouted out of the window as he neared, "Be a minute!" She made his sandwiches in record time, popped a large beer, and was opening a can of vegetable beef soup when he entered the kitchen.
Fred sat at the table and took a huge bite of the first sandwich. "Lousy kids, don't want to work at all these days. Had word out in town for weeks."
Cathy stirred the soup. Outwardly she was normal. "Did Jerry really leave?"
"Yeah, on the bus." He sucked beer. "Listen, girl, you're gonna have to help me in the fields for a while. You been lettin' the house get dirty anyway." He gestured angrily at the sink and at the dirty floor.
Then he suddenly realized she had clothes on. His face darkened with rage.
Cathy realized. She had forgotten she had them on. She knew she should have. ...
He reached out and seized her wrist and pulled her close. "What's the idea? What you plannin'? "
"N-nothing! I just ... I just can't go around naked forever!" I can't help you in the fields without wearing something!"
He relaxed a bit. "Yeah. Okay. But inside here, I want you naked! I want you bare-assed. Now!"
Cathy obediently stripped. She went to the stove and stirred the bubbling soup. When she served him a bowl she artfully brushed her left breast against his arm.
The grazing of her sensitized nipple on the rough fabric of his shirtsleeve caused the eager flesh of the pink button to yeast out to a ticklish little knob.
He ignored it. She chewed her lower lip as she sat down to a bowl of soup, and finally, cunningly, said, "We've been having too much sex. I don't want to do it but once a ... maybe once every three days." She kept her eyes down. He must not see the hot glow in them. She slumped to hide her hardened nipples.
As she had expected, he bridled. "Listen, girl, I'll get into you when and where I want. We fuck when I say so! Not you!
Cathy said in a low, apparently contrite voice, "I only thought ... three times a day is too hard on you. You don't have the strength to do it that much. You probably don't want to try now, for instance."
"Huh! Don't I? We'll see about that, girl! Soons I get my food down." He chuckled. "You kin get me in the mood. You just get under the table and open my pants and give me a suck job."
She blinked fast. She licked her lips. She hesitated a few seconds, until he looked warningly at her. Then she nodded and slipped under the wooden table.
Cathy knelt on the hard linoleum and pushed open his legs. She reached up and tugged down his zipper. His cock was hanging loose down his pantleg. She delved into his pants and grasped the soft thickness. It was warm and clammy and so easy to bend. She worked it up and sideways and finally brought it out of his gaping fly. The purplish head nodded at her.
His pants smelled of grease and sweat. His cock was clean but it had acquired an aroma of his pants.
Nevertheless, she wanted it hard, so he would be ready to fuck her ... drive it deep, drive it hard.
She took the head into her hot mouth and laved it with her tongue. There was a taste, then it was gone. She rolled and slithered the glans in her mouth. It grew bigger. His cock lengthened and thickened and hardened in her warm hands.
She was getting to him, all right. She took more cock into her mouth, sliding her clinging lips down the shaft, lashing his pleasure surfaces, sucking, swallowing saliva, bobbing her head slowly, but refusing to take too much, refusing to push the head into her throat.
She heard him drinking and swallowing as she sucked him. After two or three minutes his cock was at a full erection, a huge, thick, long monster that filled her hands and her mouth. Her cunt itched and burned and tingled with wanting. She squeezed her thighs together rhythmically, teasing herself.
She pulled her mouth off the wet, turgid monster. He must have finished his beer and soup. It was quiet overhead.
Fred muttered, "Go on with it. Told you to suck me."
She said, "You're ready. You're in the mood."
"I'm ready for suckin' is what I'm ready for. My back's been hurtin' lately, and fuckin'you doesn't do it no good. So you go ahead and suck me off. I think I'd like pure suck-offs for about a week."
Cathy scowled. Hate surged. "What about me?"
Fred gave the table a shove. It skidded back away from him. Bowls and beer cans toppled and rolled and crashed to the floor. Dregs of soup spattered the linoleum.
Cathy was startled. She looked up at his enraged face. He gritted, "What about you? Nothing about you, girl. You got no rights around here. You purely and simply do what I tell you or I beat the living shit out of you. You try runnin' away again and it gets worse. You still have to suck me off all the time if that's what I decide I want!" His big fists were balled, ready to strike. "You understand that? Do you finally understand that?"
Cathy nodded. Her cheek was twitching. Inwardly, one of her made avow. Another part of her nodded and smiled. Outwardly she shivered without knowing why, and closed her eyes and guided his cock to her mouth again. Her hands stroked his shaft lightly, gently, as she sucked artfully on the head.
Her loins burned and wanted, but nothing was going to enter there, now. She took one hand from him and slid it between her thighs to the warm slipperiness of her slit. She fingered her clitoris and gasped at the instant surge of orgasmic pleasure. She sucked his cock more enthusiastically as a result.
Fred sat back in the old wooden chair, let his legs sprawl, and watched Cathy suck him. He smiled and on occasion showed his teeth in a satisfied grin.
The time came a few minutes later when he gripped the side of the chair and hunched forward, tense, breathing fast.
Cathy knew he was close to shooting. She wanted to get it over with. Her right hand was half buried in the juicy depths of her cunt while her thumb rotated in slippery ooze on her clitoris. She shuddered with self-gratification.
She twisted her head as she sucked, as she bobbed and as she stroked with her left hand. She flicked her tongue on the golden triangle of the underside of his glans ... that special place of concentrated pleasure nerves on every cock.
She felt him go extra tense. Her fingers around the base of his cock felt the thrumming of the blood and the first great pulse of semen jetting up the tube.
She bobbed her head swiftly and lashed with her tongue as the gout of stuff erupted into her mouth.
Fred cried out as if mortally wounded.
More semen spewed, and more. His cock leaped and leaped in her mouth as muscles contracted in spasms of release.
She had to swallow a lot of it. He' hit her if the semen escaped ... leaked and stained his pants.
Then it was over. He went limp and sighing and grinning. His cock began to soften and shrink.
He smiled and nodded. "Yeah, a good one that time. You really know how to suck me off." He stuffed his cock back into his pants and stood up. He moved to the kitchen doorway. "You git this place cleaned up some. Take an hour ... do an hour's worth of cleaning, then you git those clothes on and come out to the south acres. We got to work hard on spraying this afternoon."
Cathy remained kneeling on the hard linoleum floor. She remained staring at the tiny cracks in the worn surfaces.
"Hear me?" She nodded.
"You do what I say, then. No layin' around. Git this kitchen cleaned up. Fuckin' mess." He stomped out.
Cathy said softly, after he had gone, "You made the mess." But she didn't move. She was mildly surprised that she couldn't move. She was mildly surprised that she couldn't move. The voices were alive in her head again, arghing, contending, struggling for control.
The trembling returned. The twitching. She listened to herself muttering and whimpering. Finally, she got tired of it. She moaned and flattened on the dirty floor. The linoleum felt cool against her bare skin.
She rolled over onto her back and blinked ... and said aloud, "I'm going to get the fuck out of here!" She sprang to her feet and gathered her clothes. She dressed frantically, whispering, "I will leave! I will leave! I will leave! She giggled uncontrollably and ran out of the house.
She veered wildly in the yard, undecided, and finally ran out across the fields toward the distant house of the widow Martin.
As she ran she looked back and saw Fred on the tractor just coming into view from behind the barn. He was faced the opposite way, following a long east-west row.
Cathy was tiring. Running across thirty acres of cabbage rows ... jumping, jumping, jumping. ...
Halfway across the last five acre section she had to slow to a walk. She was puffing. She looked back and saw Fred turning the tractor ... and he saw her!
She stopped, frozen for a moment. He waved and shouted, but his words were lost. Then he did something to the controls of the tractor and disconnected from the sprayer.
He was driving the tractor heedlessly, at top speed, across the rows, coming straight for her!
Cathy sobbed and began running as fast as she could for the nearby Martin house.