THREE
Mrs Wilson's eMail
Our relationship deepened and strengthened over the next week. We were both completely enwrapped in exploring, testing each other. Gently, slowly at first, then with increasing intensity. We pushed boundaries to find limits. We found none. Anything I did to you, you welcomed enthusiastically, voraciously, ecstatically.
Of course, I did nothing that would damage or demean my daughter. Because I had no interest in any of that.
I kept you home from university for that week of discovery. I could not pass up such a good educational opportunity.
It's Tuesday, you're back to attending school. I'm sitting at my desk, chatting with several women online. I hear you come through the door. You come to stand beside me, hug my neck and kiss my cheek, pressing your young and tender breast against my shoulder. I stroke the inside of your thigh through your jeans and turn to shut off my computer. Much better things to do. Things with you.
"What are you doing, Dad?"
"You know what I do."
"Yeah, I do. Who were you chatting?"
"Several of my... freinds."
"Mrs Wilson?"
"Among others."
"What about her and the Farm? And the girl?"
I open the computer.
Opening my chat site, I scroll to Betty and open her chat
I say, "I'll show you," and pull you to sit on my lap facing the computer.
You read.
>>>><<<<
[This is the messages sent by Betty Wilson, I've stripped out stuff about Mel and me, and the questions we asked last week, altering her text when necessary to maintain continuity.]
He brought her to the Ranch over the weekend as promised.
I greet him in the field where we're parking the cars and... she is so beautiful. Looking young and innocent. But I know better from the stories he's told me.
She had dressed as we had instructed, well-heeled open-toed pumps, fish-net stockings (about 2 inch squares), short, tight black leather skirt that molded to her hips and barely covered her pussy, 3/4 sleeve thin white top tied tightly under her tits which were not particularly large, but her nipples looked ready to punch through. She wore the wide red velvet choker snug, set off quite nicely by her tan. Her long, straight California-beach blonde hair hung down past her ass.
I slipt two fingers under the choker, pressing against her trachea. Her eyes opened and looked at me, unsure. They were blue. And I mean BLUE - light in color, but dense, like stained glass.
He lead her into the theater building. Jim had everything set, the stage in the middle and lights and cameras all around. The group was sitting in the couches and chairs facing the stage.
Jim was standing behind me and he pressed his cock in the groove of my ass. I was wearing my long cotton print skirt, very loose hanging over my hips
Roger tells her to spread her arms wide and hold them out. She of course, does as instructed.
Obedience is, indeed, always appropriate.
Roger asked Jim if he had some shears, so Jim went to the shed to get the large pruners, loppers.
So, she's standing with her arms silent and trembling.
As is our way, I have no idea what her name is, but I recognize who she is. What she is.
Roger walks up to her and grabs her tits - hard, REALLY HARD.
She flexes her arms to protect her breasts, he slapped her tits and told her to keep her arms out, then squeezed into her soft tits even more, digging in deep.
Roger pulled her down to her knees by her honeydews.
She didn't struggle or resist at all... You know what they're like with Roger. He's got that thing. Not for me - but he's never lacked a... lady.
I expected him to have her suck him, but he just left her kneeling in front of him, resting his hand on her head.
We all waited expectantly, knowing where it will end, but not knowing the path he'd lead us down.
Her throat looked so vulnerable and feminine as she stretched to look up at him from the floor.
Jim came back with the loppers and handed them to Roger.
The big, heavy pruning shears he uses in the swamp.
When she saw them the poor thing began to shiver and tremble and I could hear her suppressing and swallowing the whimper.
As you know, We don't allow damage at our place. I wasn't worried about it, but obviously, she must have been.
Roger stroked her cheeks with the huge lopper blade
Tears started slowly leaking down her cheeks.
You could hear everybody holding their breath.
I started to worry that I'd have to intervene.
He traced the top of her tits with the tip of the blade, snugging it under the top. Her nipples got even stiffer and stood out, stretching the thin material.
The also got darker. So dark it was like the top had disappeared
Then Roger opened the pruners and laid them to her tits, framing her nipples between them. Jim and I both took a step to stop him, but it was quickly evident that he had no intention of clipping them off.
Instead, he gave the pruners a twist, dove into her cleavage and clipped the knot just under her tits. Her top fell open and her breasts were on display.
God, they were beautiful.
Not big, but damn near perfect shape.
He leaned down and said something, no one but her could hear.
The group was getting restless - he was taking everything so slow.
She gathered up her hair - the hair in the front and top - and stertched that sun-and-salt bleached hair up, tugging hard.
Then he chopped through it. Cut her hair about an inch from her scalp.
Tears were running down her face as she held that hang of golden-silver above her head.
He cut, not all of it, just that part. Just the top. About two inches.
Then he cut through the shoulders of her top and it fell to the floor.
She sat up straighter and...
You would have loved the way she looked.
She sat up straight, like a good girl. Naked above the waist, hair hanging down back and sides, but very short on top.
She was crying over the loss - AND her bullets were like steel, so - I guess she took it both ways. Some are like that.
Some girls are into that. Can't really call it humiliation, because they like it.
Thing is, now she's marked. She'll have to wear her hair like that for years till it grows out.
Or she can cut it all off
It was down past her ass. Still is on the sides.
So, anyway, he took the cut off bit from her and wrapping the rest around his fist he pulled her over to the stage.
She stumbled at first, trying to get to her feet, but, fast as he was moving, there was no way - so she crawled.
He dragged her up onto the stage, she couldn't quite make it on hands and knees and sort of collapsed.
He dragged her roughly, bouncing her over the edge.
He got her up on the stage and made her kneel.
He separated her hair into two and twisted each side into a rope. Then threaded them through a couple of the rings we have set in the stage.
He sat in front of her, spread legged, and set his cock to her lips. She took it in hungrily and started bobbing her head - slobbering all over the place.
and pulled them both
Then he nodded to Jim and Jim left to get Tag.
While he was gone, Roger kept her mouth on her cock and controlled her by pulling her hair through the rings - when he pulled her head went down.
OK, now - Jack's back with Tag - Tag is a giant - Like a rough, shaggy, beast - tan, muscles rippling. He's about two meters tall his shoulders are MASSIVE!! He is well trained to the leash. He's become very popular here.
He came to us a couple months ago from a Slovenian colleague who's retiring. You'll meet him the next time you come down.
Roger has worked his feet in under his lass and is pressing into her belly, forcing her to raise her ass high.
Tag stands and eyes the girl - she seems so tiny in relation to him, so much bigger, long legs, vast chest.
Jack led him onto the stage - well, actually, Tag was eager to get it on. He lept onto the stage and the hollow thud rang through the barn.
And through the girl.
She shivered and looked back at Tag towering over her, his rough, ragged, shaggy grey-black hair emphasizing his beastliness, his cock swinging with a swagger, fully extended and heavy.
Roger suddenly pulled her hair through the rings, slamming her face down onto the stage.
She started to whimper.
She screamed when the foot between her thighs slammed into her belly. The audience gasped; Roger laughed; The girl cried.
Tag went to his knees and crawled to her, moving around the her, bumping, licking, nudging, nuzzling.
Random, ragged gasps sounded through the theater as she tried to accommodate his assault.
Roger knelt down beside her on the stage so that he could see her face well, relishing and delighting in her tears and cries.
She said something to him that none of us could hear. He reared up, roaring with laughter, and slapped her cheek, driving her head to bounce off the stage.
Her crying got louder and came from much deeper in her gut.
Tag came round and licked the tears off her face a couple times. She groaned.
The huge sub moved along her body, licking her shoulders, pits, tits, belly and hips.
Obviously headed for the cunt's pussy.
Tag moved between her legs and assaulted her upturned ass with his extremely long tongue. (Another reason he's become popular here.)
She squirmed a little, then slumped from exhaustion, acceptance, resignation.
Roger grabbed Tag by the collar - flinching from Tag's snarling snap, he does not like to be interrupted during his tasks.
Roger was still pulling Tag towards the mounting before releasing him.
Tag lunged forward to cover the bound and sobbing girl and started thrusting randomly between her thighs, against her crotch and along her ass crack.
Roger reached under between Tag's legs to guide him in.
Tag twisted off the girl and dug his teeth into Rogers forearm.
Jack knocked Roger back, nearly off the stage and addressed Tag sharply, "NO. Never bite us. Never." Tag's former owner was a bit into blood apparently; We're working on his training.
Still, one should not interrupt him. Roger gets no sympathy from us.
Tag remounted and began again to stab at the girl crying beneath him.
Eventually, Tag found his pocket and drove hard into the girl. She screamed in the agony of what was, apparently, her first experience with a cock of that size, long and wide with a handball sized head.
He pummeled into her with demonically rapid thrusts.
Roger grabbed his crotch and started pumping his dick through his tight fly.
Jack came to stand behind me, lift my skirt and digging his powerful farmer's fingers into my tits, rammed into my dripping pussy with a single banging stroke, hips slamming my butt.
I sort of lost track of the specifics of the show on stage; it was like all the other forced first times. Honestly, there's only so many ways a trained slave reacts in this situation, and only so many ways a chick bound in that position CAN react.
Jack pulled my back against his chest by my tits and, as he mauled them deliciously, held me down on his cock, which I gladly massaged within my hot sheath. I reached back and laced my fingers behind his neck, lifting my tits - and he took full advantage of that, eventually popping the top few buttons to pull my boobs into the air to continue his lovingly depraved attentions.
