Farm Girl Amy

Driving home with an empty K-5 was boring.

I pulled up to the house, ran inside, and changed my clothes. Ramon and I had training today. No one was inside the house to question what I was doing. I had slipped on my flip flops and carried my wrestling shoes with me as I walked across the gravel to the barn.

Ramon must have gone back to the Cave to grab some gear. He had focus mitts for his hands, training gloves for me, a set of padded headwear, a jump rope, and a large foam body shield set up and ready. Ramon stated this was not going to be a strictly "boxing exercise." Ramon stated that boxing has rules, occurs in a ring, and a referee is there to monitor the fights.

Ramon stated "we are learning to street fight. I know you know how to tackle or attack a person. I have seen you wrestle." I was by no means a world class wrestler, I had been at varsity level since I was in middle school at every weight class, and I had done well in state and multi state matches.

Ramon stated, "moving your head, body, and legs away from strikes or grabs is more important than landing a strike to your opponent."

I secured my headwear, pulled on my gloves, and Ramon handed me a mouth piece. I was very familiar with mouth pieces from my years in football. Ramon continued to talk as we walked over to some red pads he had laid out on the floor. The area was approximately 20' by 20'. We were in an unused dirty garage where feed pellets for the cows were usually parked. Other farm implements were sitting idly collecting dust. Large concrete barriers lined the open garage doors blocking off any machines from coming or going while we trained.

Ramon had me skip rope for 5 minutes, do hundreds of burpees, and throw "shadow" punches into the air to gauge my ability, stamina and speed. I felt like the greenest of rookies as Ramon circled around me looking at my footwork, hips, shoulders, head and lastly my hands. Ramon walked over and picked up a large 4-foot-long rod we use to scare/move cattle through the pens.

I continued to shadow box while he walked within range and flipped it at my face. I did not duck as it made a loud "thwack" sound which echoed throughout the makeshift gym. Ramon stated "you are supposed to duck that. Don't stand so rigid. You have great form, speed, and power. But you need to learn balance that allows you to duck, retreat, or move left or right when a strike is coming."

Ramon silently glided around me flicking the rod at my shins, thighs, stomach, and head. I blocked or evaded 1 out of every 10. Ramon flicked me one last time with the rod aimed at my head. I ducked it cleanly, kept my fists up guarding my face/jaw, and threw a real punch that stopped a millimeter from his face. Ramon smiled broadly.

Ramon commented, "if you had been born Cuban you would be a great boxer. Too bad you are white" as he laughed. Ramon was always joking around, cutting jabs at me, and treated me like a kid brother.

I heard giggling and looked over to see BJ sitting on the concrete barrier with my baby sister Miranda in her arms. I had not expected BJ to be there laughing and playing with Miranda.

Miranda is the baby on the farm. Just over a year old she was never out of my mother's sight. Miranda had brown hair, dark brown eyebrows, and round cheeks. I think she was my mother's miniature twin.

I asked as best I could through my mouthpiece 'break?'

Ramon nodded. I walked over to BJ with a sweaty smile. I had been training for a short time, but I was covered in sweat. My white shirt was clinging to my chest and abs. My shorts were tight and riding up my thigh. BJ did not even look at me. She had only eyes for the cute little Miranda in her arms. I don't know why I was surprised that BJ was playing with my little sister. I realized I knew very little about BJ.

BJ stated "I moved my things into your bedroom. I parked my car in front by your K-5."

I had no idea what she was talking about, "her things" in my "bedroom." Did Ramon hit me in the head when I was not looking. I told BJ to be good until I was done training. She smiled and rocked Miranda back and forth in her arms gently.

Ramon put me though 45 minutes of punching, ducking, and drills.

I was tired and sweaty when Ramon told me "Nice start. A few more of these workouts and Martin is toast. I picked up my belongings, pulled a $100 bill from my wallet and handed it to Ramon. Ramon smiled and thanked me. I learned from my dad that all employees deserve to be paid for their work, overtime, or extra duties. I could not expect Ramon to train me for an hour or two and did not expect to be paid extra.

It was now 4 pm. BJ was still seated on the concrete barrier. Miranda was asleep in her arms. I gathered my items, returned the boxing gear to Ramon, and whispered to BJ 'follow me.' I did not want to wake Miranda and what I had to say to BJ was for us only. I intentionally did not introduce her to anyone at the farm. Not yet.

BJ and I stood outside between the garages and the house. We were 150 yards or more away from the nearest set of ears. Miranda's did not count. I asked BJ, 'what is your name? What will I call you? BJ? Sloan? Or something else."

BJ did not seem fazed and stated "You can call me anything you like. You own me. Name me, call me, or don't. I am yours to command."

I told her in a firm voice, 'your name is Sloan. No more BJ. Anyone who refers to you by that name is not my friend, does not know me, and you will not answer.'

BJ was now permanently renamed to Sloan. She nodded in agreement.

I asked Sloan, 'what are your talents? What do you like to do? What are your hobbies? What can I ask you to do and be 100% sure you will carry it out correctly.'

Sloan never looked up from the baby Miranda in her arms as she stretched and slowly woke up. Sloan stated, "I can cook, clean, bake, create arts, crafts, paint, draw, sew, crochet, create leather works, farm, ride, grow any plant, and do damn near anything else. I'm an only child. My parents have been useless since I was 5 years old. I have had to look after myself as long as I can remember."

I asked Sloan, 'and your physical abilities?'

Sloan replied, "I can run, jump, dig, climb, swim, dance, and fight." She looked at me calmly and stated, "Your boxing isn't half bad."

I thought to myself that this girl was a hell of a deal at 50k a year if she can do all that. Remembering she had been a cheerleader with Amy I asked, 'How flexible are you?'

We were standing on loose gravel, Sloan was holding a newly awakened baby in her arms, but she lifted her right leg off the ground slowly, she leaned to one side and raised her right leg up over her head with apparent ease. She held it firm as it point; straight up. She stood still like a statue. No shake, no wiggle, nothing showing she was not in 100% control.

I heard the back door of the house open and close loudly. It had a storm door made of glass and cheap aluminum, so it made a distinct sound. I looked over to see my mother walking calmly towards us.

I looked over and saw Sloan still had her right leg/foot in the air pointed at the sky. She held the vertical "splits" for longer than I thought possible. Her dark skirt rode up to her thigh and her black thong panties barely covered her pussy and butthole.

I quickly stated, 'put it down.' If my mother had not been walking towards us, I would have had her keep her leg in the air all afternoon. I saw there was not a hair out of place at her groin. The thong panties covered her hair perfectly. It was as though she used them as a shield when she trimmed her bush.

Sloan lowered her leg to the ground as my mother walked up. Her skirt was still slightly bunched around her waist. My mother asked for Miranda back as it was time to get dinner ready. I had not realized we had been talking for such a long time. The sun was getting lower in the sky, the shadows were stretching longer across the gravel area, and Sloan handed Miranda back to my mother gently.

If my mother was mad, she did not look it, her tone was even and gave nothing away. She smiled as she picked up Miranda and turned to walk away. Miranda sweetly said "Sissy" and reached out to Sloan. Both my mother and I froze. "Sissy" was her first word as she stretched her hands out lovingly at Sloan. Sloan smiled back and stated "beautiful" towards Miranda. Miranda laughed and my mother walked away. But before she could turn, I saw my mother had a few tears running down her face.

I asked Sloan what she had brought with her. Sloan answered "Only the bare necessities until we move into the Mason mansion. I put all my clothes in your dressers, closet, and hung everything or folded everything nicely." I am not a clothes whore. I have a very minimal wardrobe of jeans, t-shirts, and flannel shirts. I owned two pairs of shoes, two pairs of boots, and nothing extra. I expected Sloan to have a lot more than me.

Sloan stated, "I also tidied up your bathroom."

Our farmhouse was old, but custom built by a great grandfather. Each bedroom had a large walk-in closet you could play baseball in, large bathroom with a huge shower, large bathtub you could swim in, and large sink with tons of counter space. Each bedroom was twice the size of a normal bedroom if not bigger.

My bedroom had a king-sized bed, a large couch, two large, oversized recliners, two large 85-inch televisions, my computer on a desk, several armoires and dressers. There was still room to do pushups, walk around, or dance if you felt so inclined.

I thanked Sloan for tidying up and we walked inside. The kitchen was full of my whole family. Roy and my 8-year-old brother Matthew were sitting at the island bar. My mother was cooking something on the stove while my father had Miranda in a highchair and was feeding her something from a bowl. My father was doing "baby talk" as he tried to scoop the white goop into Miranda's mouth.

As we entered my father stated "I heard Miranda said her first word just now. Sissy, is it?" as my father reached out his hand to shake Sloan's hand. I had not yet introduced Sloan to anyone. I loudly announced 'Family. This is Sloan. She is my first employee. She will be living with us until our move to the Mason mansion.'

Everyone greeted Sloan with happy wishes. None of them had ever crossed paths with her before. For my part I believe none of them knew her or her previous reputation.

My mother hugged Sloan warmly. Sloan quickly walked over to the stove and told my mother "Please. I'm an employee. Let me cook. Go sit down." My mother was so surprised as the look on her face made it look like someone had just slapped her across the face with a dead cat. Stunned but not about to continue cooking my mother took off her apron, tied it around Sloan's waist, and walked into the living room to sit down.

My father continued to feed Miranda while everyone continued what they had been doing. Every minute or so Sloan would look to Matthew and ask where an item was. She asked whether she needed it or not. Matthew would giggle and point to random drawers, cabinets, or doors. We had a large "Chef's dream kitchen" as my mother put it. We had double ovens, two large stoves (one gas and one electric), a dishwasher, a garbage shoot (you placed your items in it, it slid down the shoot and into a large dumpster outside), and a large walk-in pantry. The pantry had two large cabinet freezers, two extra refrigerators, and shelves 10 feet tall.

My mother would always laugh that we could feed an army from our panty and not make a dent.

Matthew was still giggling as Sloan asked where the measuring cup was even though it was still in her hand. Sloan walked over, kissed Matthew on the forehead, and stated "My favorite little helper". Matthews eyes exploded with warmth and happiness. His face was red, and his smile went ear to ear. Sloan knew how to work kids, women, babies, and men.

While still cooking Sloan told me quietly, "that boy Matthew is going to be a lady killer. His light blue eyes. His face. His hair. If he gets a body half as good as yours the numbers of women he is going to slay will be in the millions."

Sloan was not talking quietly enough, and my father overheard her. He looked at us and smiled. Sloan finished making dinner and we sat around the table eating happily while swapping stories. Dinner ended, Sloan popped up to do the dishes, asked my mom if she wanted any wine, and my father if he wanted a beer or other drink.

My mom looked around slowly and stated, "We have wine?" Sloan stated "I grabbed two bottles on the way here. My way of saying thank you for letting me in your home." Sloan poured some wine in a glass and handed it to my mother. My father declined a drink.

Roy laughed with a roar at the look on my parents' faces. Sloan was making a hell of a first impression.

Sloan cleaned the plates, placed them in the dishwasher with Matthew's help of course, and let my parents sit at the table to rest. After dinner Sloan began to help Matthew with his homework. Handwriting was always a bother for him but with Sloan's help there was no fighting.

8 O'clock chimed on the large grandfather clock. It was not old and the type that ran on chains or gears. It was electric but tried its best to look old. Sloan told Matthew, "Time for bed." Matthew looked at mom, dad, Roy, and back to Sloan not knowing what to do. Sloan walked over to Miranda, picked her up, and stated "you too little princess." My mom and dad sat there useless as Sloan disappeared upstairs with the two kids.

My dad looked at me and stated, "Nice hire."

I told dad he better get all the paperwork ready; I will write out her contract, and he needed to arrange bi-weekly payments as she was earning 25$ an hour. My dad stated, "Any overtime or is she salary."

I responded 'Sloan will be my personal assistant. She will be with me 24/7/365. Salary will work. I am unsure if she has a bank account in her name. Set that up for her, get her a debit card as well, and a black credit card on my account. My father nodded. My mother looked back and forth from my dad to me without saying a word.

30 minutes later Sloan returned to the living room. She stated, "Matthews asleep. Miranda's asleep. Matthew brushed his teeth, he's wearing Spider Man PJs, and he has his night light on. I changed Miranda's diaper, she is content in a long sleeve onesie, and she has her pacifier. Anyone need a massage or cigar?"

Everyone began to laugh. Sloan said, "shush. Shush." And we laughed quietly. My mother asked me in a hushed tone "Is she a robot?"

Roy stated, "Is she a sex robot?"

Again, everyone laughed quietly as Sloan sat down with a red embarrassed look on her face. Sloan had always been so neat, clean, proper, and professional I don't think I had ever seen her embarrassed before.

Dad looked at his watch and looked to mom as he stated, "Want to go for a walk Miriam?" It was the first time in a long time I had heard my mother's real name. Miriam must have been a code word for something because she bolted out of her seat, grabbed my father's hand, and they nearly ran outside with the storm door closing behind them with a "clang".

Roy came over and sat with us. He introduced himself as Mark's "not real grandfather type adult". Sloan commented "really? I swore Mark got his good looks for you. I would have never guessed you two were related." Roy smiled at the kind words.

Sloan quietly stated "I'm going up to get ready for bed. Need anything?"

I responded with a 'Nope' as Sloan disappeared up the stairs.

Roy did his best to stretch his neck and see up Sloan's skirt. Roy stated "I know women. That one is not a house cat. She will take every dick thrust you got and soak it up with a smile."

I looked at Roy dead in his eyes and stated, 'you are right. But also. You have no idea what she can do.'

Roy laughed and walked to his bedroom. His bedroom was accessed off the main living room. It was easier on his knees than having to walk upstairs. The room used to be a large office, but my father converted it for Roy and Mary many years ago.

I walked up the stairs and saw Sloan peeking out the window and down towards the fields outside. I went to turn the light on as it was nearly pitch black in the room. Sloan whispered "no. Not yet." Curious to what Sloan was looking at I crept over.

My mother and father were making out, my dad's hands were up my mom's shirt, and my mom's left hand was down the front of my father's unzipped jeans. I laughed at the sight while Sloan commented "your whole family is a bunch of sexed up perverts. How is it that you don't have 12 brothers and 12 sisters."

I shrugged my shoulders as I went into the bathroom, closed the door, and turned on the lights. My bathroom routine took 10 minutes at most. Floss, brush my teeth, gargle and put on deodorant. I always slept in boxers and had no intention of letting Sloan get a look at 'the good stuff' too soon. I did not shower after gym and did not shower after boxing with Ramon. I needed one but did not want Sloan to get the wrong idea on her first night in my care.

As I stood there in the bathroom Sloan opened the door and she walked in giggling. I had never seen her giggle like this. I asked, 'What now?'

Sloan stated "your mom is out there giving your dad a blow job. They are so cute sitting in the garden on the bench. But your dad is moaning like a dying cow."

I just shook my head as Sloan took off her clothes. I was not about to show Sloan that I was bashful or shy. She stripped down to her black bra and black thong. She walked to the toilet, turned, pulled down her panties, and sat on the toilet. I had made up my mind. If she was going to act like this in front of me deliberately then I would not run.

Sloan finished peeing, stood up, pulled up her panties, and flushed the toilet. Sloan asked, "need anything before going to sleep?"

I was not sure what she was offering but I stated 'nope. All good.'

I walked into the bedroom and plugged my cell phone into its charger. My computer *dinged* loudly. This meant there were pictures, videos, or items on my phone that needed to be backed up on my computer. Odd. I don't remember taking too many pictures or video's lately especially since my phone had been "lost" for more than 24 hours.

Sloan also heard the "ding" and asked, "what's up?" Sloan began to change her underwear and bra to a set of white silk pajamas. The shorts were loose and smooth. The shirt was short and loose around her neck. I was only able to catch a glimpse of her tits and well-manicured bush before she got dressed.

I explained the lost phone saga, Ms. Willows saga, and the key saga. Sloan stated "ooh. Sounds like you are getting another employee soon. Do you think all three of us will fit on your bed together? Or should we put Ms. Willows in a spare bedroom."

I had just realized we have two spare guest rooms and yet Sloan is occupying mine.

I made no mention of it. I was set in my ways. If Sloan does not make a big deal of it then neither will I.

As I opened my computer to see the newly downloaded items the "dying cow" sounds outside got louder. We both looked at each other and laughed. The pictures were of Ms. Willows. The videos were of Ms. Willows. She was naked, dancing, stripping, spreading, she was wearing sexy clothes, lingerie, or just the new ballet type lockable shoes. The last video of Ms. Willows was from a low angle. She must have set the phone on the floor. She was sitting on the floor. Her legs spread widely. He pussy was completely bald, her tits were so large you could barely see her face, and she stated "I'm your personal slave Master Mark. Do anything you want to me. But first. Please tattoo my pussy with your name."

Ms. Willows produced a large black permanent ink pen. She very easily wrote "Master Mark's Pussy" just above her clit where her blonde bush would have been if not removed.