The Games We Play

It wasn't so bad being a kid again... Even if it was in this hellhole.

Charlene kicked off her sandals so she could keep pace with the other children. Although technically not a child herself anymore, she was starting to enjoy her new role as "one of the kids" as she scurried around in a heated game of tag with the others. The fact that there was no work to do today made it seem more like a holiday on this warm May afternoon. Her long blonde hair whipped through the breeze as she skipped around the pasture in pursuit of her playmates.

Charlene, or "The Girl" as she was referred to by the elders here, had come to reside at this farm after a series of unfortunate events. She was bright and attractive, average height with strong, cheerleader legs and 36-C tits, but had always been considered a troubled girl by her parents and teachers. She had a strong tendency towards stubborn behavior and doing things for shock value. As far as she was concerned, they didn't know shit. They just couldn't appreciate her gifted young mind and sick sense of humor.

Anyway, who the hell were her parents to make any judgments? They worked 200 miles away and commuted every day, meaning that The Girl only saw them on weekends, if she was lucky. Her mother was an emotional basket case and her father was an emotionally abusive alcoholic. What a fine pair to label her "Fucked Up".

After a year and a half of emotional outbursts and what her shrink had noted to be "negative attention-seeking behavior", The Girl's mother, with her pathetically fragile nerves could take no more and sent her to this place, the farm of a family friend. If that's what you would call it. It wasn't much of a farm or much of a friend for that matter. The family had met the matriarch of this clan as she was going door to door trying to sell horses and cattle. They were just a bunch of inbred fucks who, for some reason or another, thought they were sitting on the secrets of the universe. However, Charlene's mother didn't seem to see that and thought it would be good for her to spend some time in the country. Great. Now they had their own little slave.

Anyway, she was 18 as of last month, so she really didn't have to have anyone take care of her. It was really quite revolting the way they treated her like a child. These assholes, including the mom, grandmother, sister and brother, had managed to expand their vocabularies a little by reading old westerns and romance novels, which apparently shot their intellects right on up to ancient Greek philosophy or some shit. And then there was the endless parade of other relatives that were constantly in and out. Most of them always eyed her suspiciously and treated her like "the latest charity case".

Whatever.

The Girl had fought a great deal to reserve her opinions about anything since her stay here, quite simply because she was just outmanned. And besides, like she was told, her little snotty attitude just needed a little adjusting. Nothing a little hard work and primitive living couldn't fix.

In breaking the human will, there usually comes a point of acceptance from those meant to be broken. The Girl was there, finally. The early mornings of milking cows, chopping wood, feeding horses, and bailing hay had indeed broken her down a notch. She was too tired most of the time to think about causing a scene about anything, or most of all, boys.

Boys. The Devil's incarnates, as her mother had led her to believe. It didn't help that the elders forbid her to have any kind of social life besides weekly 4-H meetings since she came to this shit hole. What these dumb asses didn't know was it was 4-H that led to the loss of her virginity by one of the farm boys at a weekend camp three years ago. It was at best a disappointing experience, and five minutes of her young life that she would never get back.

From that point on, The Girl preferred to masturbate than have another emotionally void session of hide the wienie with some douchebag that left her with nothing more than jizz running down the crack of her ass.

What Charlene did notice with some mixture of satisfaction and apprehension was that these older men that frequented the farm were not bashful about displaying their sexual interests in her. Of course they were displayed in crude antics such as whistles and crotch grabbing, but hey, it was attention. From men. It was nice to have your femininity validated when these old bitches were constantly telling you how lazy, stupid, and inadequate you are. Even if most of these guys were dirty and repulsive.

There was one man in particular that she was told to steer clear of. Of course this piqued her interest even more. Through research via gossip amongst the other teens, The Girl understood that this guy, or Irving, as he was called, had quite the reputation of sampling the wares of many a young girl throughout the years. It was reputed that his own nieces and daughters were among them. Her initial feeling was that he was a bag of shit and should burn in hell, but curiosity and her inner desire to constantly play with fire pushed her to do just that when he was around.

These games became the only excitement The Girl had in her life. They were her sick little secrets, taunting the wolf with sheep's blood. You know, those things that women become masters of as young girls that can just as easily be passed off as innocent behavior: really getting into that grape lolli-pop, the leisurely stretch with the pronounced arch in your back that shows off a little belly ring, the tank tops that say some cute, cheeky little phrase like "Daddy's Little Girl" when you're not wearing a bra.

The games came to a screeching halt, however, when an instance of "Irving's Going To Tickle the Piss Out of The Girl" became "Holy Shit, Irving Just Grabbed a Handful of The Girl's Snatch and Bit Her Titty." From that point on she avoided him like the Plague.

From time to time though, the hormones would still kick in and remind her that she wasn't a child. Like today. Since The Girl had gotten up this morning there was that familiar awareness in the pit of her belly that made it difficult to concentrate on much of anything, especially a stupid game of tag with a bunch of little kids. Her mind began to wander more and more, and eventually The Girl set off to find a quiet place to relieve the throbbing growing between her legs. Her sorry excuse for a bedroom was out of the question. Aside from the fact that it was the size of a truck stop restroom and had holes in the walls, the house itself was bustling with the activities of the crones who lived there and their pointless banter and gossip about who was fucking who in town.

The tack room in the barn!

Perfect. There was no sign of anybody working in there today, and the tack room was just right for disappearing off the face of the earth for a spell. Without giving it any more thought, The Girl crept off in the direction of the barn as she wiped a thin film of sweat off her brow.

The tack room was nice and cool as she opened the creaky wooden door and closed it behind her. Its stone walls and narrow window near the ceiling afforded just the right atmosphere for a moment away from the reality that was her pathetic life.

She laid back against the riding blankets stacked on top of several bales of timothy hay and closed her deep blue eyes for a brief minute, as her mind started to drift into erotic thoughts about Mr. Langely, the American History teacher from the 9th grade. Mr. Langely was a popular star of The Girl's fantasies, with his piercing green eyes and athletic body. He was also the assistant football coach for the school, and The Girl would stay after school sometimes and watch him change from the calm and collected history teacher to the monstrous brute of a coach that he was reputed to be.

She wondered how it would feel to have his weight on her body with both of his hands full of her ass cheeks. She pulled her flowered sundress up around her waist and placed her hand down the front of her panties, resting it there for a moment, feeling the heat radiating off of her hairless crotch(another private joke to herself was shaving her pussy, which the old bitches considered vulgar). A fleeting mental picture of the lust-crazed coach and The Girl slipped her middle finger into the now soaking ravine between her pussy lips, as she began slowly massaging her clit. She envisioned her imaginary jock lover ordering her to straddle his face as he tongue-fucked her, and she could feel the traces of her climax beginning to build.

The Girl stopped long enough to lift her ass off of the blanket and remove her cotton panties, which had become an obstacle to her self-induced pleasure. She flung them to the floor below and spread her legs wide, frantically inserting her finger back in her waiting hole, closing her eyes tight and wishing it was Mr. Langely's.

"Well, well, well....What the fuck have we got here?"

The Girl's eyes flung open in terror. Terror of being exposed and at the recognition of that voice. It was Irving. His big menacing frame lurked in the doorway of the tackroom and his eyes reflected that of a coyote gazing upon a mortally wounded rabbit.

Charlene flung her legs closed and sat bolt upright. Irving entered the tackroom, slowly, like a stalking cat. He smiled coldly as he paced back in forth in front of her, and placed his finger to his chin as though deep in thought.

"You know, I knew you were a dirty little bitch, but this is almost too good to be true. Seems like you don't have enough to do, aside from being a cock tease and sneaking off to the barn to prime your little snatch for all those fucking punk assed boys you're always batting your eyelashes at." Irving moved his hand down and began stroking the now obvious bulge beneath his coveralls. "I got plenty for you to keep yourself busy with," as he grinned cruelly at her.

Anger pushed its way through embarrassment as The Girl narrowed her eyes. "Fuck you, asshole. If you really think you can do whatever you want because you caught me fingering myself, you're a fucking moron."

Irving's voice took on a much more serious tone. "Actually, I was thinking about the bag of dope you have shoved in between your mattresses and the little spray-painting excursion you went on a few weeks ago with that Jonathan faggot where you two little shits vandalized half the cars at the fairgrounds".

Shit. Not only was it obvious that this son of a bitch had been going through her room, but how the fuck did he know about the spray paint?

Then it occurred to her that Jonathan occasionally did a little work around Irving's house. That fucking traitor piece of shit Jonathan. She was willing to bet that these two fuckers often discussed her, the things they would like to do to her sweet young ass, maybe both of them at once...

To make matters worse, that was his god damn grass in her room, and she had only agreed to keep it for him because his old man was threatening to kick his ass out if he ever saw it again. The Girl realized that if she got busted for vandalism and possession of marijuana that her life would be a totally unbearable living hell for quite some time.

Irving recognized The Girl's silence as realization that she was his to do what he wished. He took a step towards her and placed his hands on her knees, still tightly locked together as he parted her strong thighs quickly and deliberately. She felt how hot and dry his strong hands felt locked on her knees as he leaned forward and braced himself with one hand on the wall behind her, and with the other hand reached down and ran a calloused finger along her swollen, wet slit. The Girl wanted to vomit as she watched him raise his finger to his mouth and lick her juices off of the offending digit.

She glimpsed at him, and found herself almost in awe of his intimidation skills. Irving was nearly a middle-aged man but she was very aware of the fact that he was still formidably strong and could destroy her without much effort if he wanted to. For a fleeting moment, she was taken by the idea that he probably wasn't a bad looking guy ten years ago, with his black hair and eyes, then hated herself for thinking anything good about this fucker who was nothing more than a predator and an opportunist.

It was during her contemplation that Irving decided to jam his finger all the way to his fist into her cunt. The sudden intrusion and burning sensation brought The Girl quickly back into reality. Irving sucked in his breath and looked down directly into her face as he manipulated his finger in a hooking motion.

"That's an awfully snug fit for a little slut that's been giving the 4-H boys free rides at camp".

She didn't know what Irving was getting at, but the truth was she had only been with one boy and his dick wasn't even as big as Irving's finger. As the burning in her exposed pussy eased, Irving ordered her to unbutton the top of her dress. The Girl kissed any last hope of talking her way out of this goodbye as her shaky fingers regretfully began undoing the buttons of her dress. She cursed herself silently for her decision to skip the bra that morning. It was her subtle way of pissing off the old bitches in the house, and now it was just one less thing to get in the way of Irving's assault on her young body.

The coolness of the tackroom had its immediate effect on her nipples, which became hard as rocks as soon as they came in contact with the open air. The man then dropped to his knees and buried his head in her large breasts, biting and sucking them as his fingers continued their invasion of her pussy,sawing in and out of her. Charlene closed her eyes tightly and pretended not to hear the wet, sticky sounds her violated cunt was making.

Irving stopped long enough to peel off his coveralls down to his knees and remove his undershirt. His erection, grotesquely huge compared to anything she had seen before, throbbed against the constraint of his white briefs. As she watched him remove the undergarment, any feelings she had of disgust and regret were quickly replaced with paralyzing fear. The Girl sized him up, and began to tremble in terror about what this man's body was about to do to hers. She became dreadfully aware that this was no man to play games with, as she listened to his breath deepen and become heavy with lust.

To make matters worse, her own body was beginning to turn on her as she realized that her cunt was contracting and getting wetter still in the absence of his fingers and in the presence of his massive cock, just inches from her hole, jerking and leaking precum. It didn't seem to be that long, maybe about seven inches, but it must have been bigger around than her wrist. Veins encircled the monstrosity of a cock like ivy on a tree trunk. As her panic began to mount, Irving lurched forward and pulled her ass to the edge of the blanketed hay bales and leaned in to warn her.

"If you take your medicine like a good little girl, I won't have to make a bloody mess out of your ass."

She felt his engorged cock pushing against her traitorous opening, which drooled her natural lubrication and began contracting more violently. Feeling the area of her cunt's flesh that just the tip of his dick was covering, The Girl was positive that this was not going to happen without him splitting her in half.

Irving rubbed his slimy precum all over her pussy lips, clit, and hole as he positioned himself for entry. He began to push forward, and she felt the same burning that his finger had made her feel, except ten times worse. Her fingers dug into the blanket as she braced herself for his entire length, but Irving was savoring the feeling of her young pussy wrapped around just the head of his cock, like an expensive delicacy. He pushed himself in slowly about halfway, while The Girl's cunt struggled to accommodate his invasion.

Then, without warning, he mercilessly rammed the entire length of himself into the bottom of her recesses, and held himself there as she fought back her screams with everything she had in her soul. She lay there writhing in pain, inpaled apon Irving's cock as something else began to take hold of her. Through her intense pain, some unknown primal need in her began to call out.

At first, she bucked her hips in an effort to unseat the man, but now she was moving out of something else. "What the fuck is wrong with me?" she thought to herself as her worst nightmare dawned on her.

She wanted Irving to fuck her.

She didn't just want him to fuck her, she wanted him to fuck her half to death. She didn't care how bad he hurt or mangled her, she just wanted to come and come and come all over his perverted cock.

Irving momentarily snapped out of the awesome god-like feeling of power that this girl's tight, freshly broken cunt pulsing around his dick gave him. He sensed her mounting desire and looked at her writhing around on his meat. He looked directly at her face as he uttered, "Tell me what you want, bitch..."

"I want to come" was all she could think of to say.

Irving began to withdraw himself a little. He knew it would evoke a response from her.

"No! No! Please....Just fuck me. I have to come. I need to..."

Irving needed no more incentive as he continued his assault on her cunt. No more gentle entry, like before. This time he slammed himself in to the hilt and was pistoning in and out of her like a madman, and making every stroke count. With every thrust into her he knocked the breath out of her, as he watched her eyes roll back in her head and a mixture of her hot pussy juices and a little blood run down her ass.

The Girl heard his animal-like grunts and the loud slapping of his pelvis and balls against her ass and pussy. She could feel his dick pounding into her guts and setting her on fire. The pain was intense, as was the pleasure she was receiving from getting her neglected cunt plundered by his fat cock. The tightening in her belly melted into waves of something so amazing it was unholy. Her cunt locked up and released, over and over again in waves of her orgasm. Instead of screaming, her breath just ceased for a moment, as her cum bathed Irving's dick.

Irving kept up his gut pounding, now at an even faster pace. Sweat poured from his body as he braced his weight with his knees on the edge of the bales, so he could pile-drive her pussy. Her eyes were rolled up in her head, and her body moved like a rag doll with every slam of his pelvis, like she was completely possessed by demons of lust.

Irving's mental state began to border on the insane as he ravished his new prey. The sensation of this young girl's pussy orgasming and squeezing his cock, and the sight of her blood was enough to satisfy the cruel urge he had decided to inflict upon her today. His balls tightened, as he crashed into her one final time and released what seemed like gallons of his own cum into her womb, which was milking him dry. The sensitivity of his cock was too much in her tight, viselike grip, and he withdrew himself completely from her, spilling a pool of their mixed fluids down her ass on to the blanket. As he stood upright, he could see what was moments ago a manicured, snug little twat was now raw, gaping and oozing with his cum.

The Girl lay trancelike in disbelief of what had just happened as Irving collected himself and pulled up his briefs. As he zipped up his coveralls he uttered one last breathless comment to her.

"You done fucking with these worthless little boys?"

The Girl nodded without looking up, a mixture of shame and bewilderment on her face.

"Good Girl. I'll be back to take what's mine...real soon." With that he spun on his heel and walked out, leaving her to wonder what in the hell would her life become next.