Sister's Sessions With Dad
by Jane Harper
(RX-619)


FOREWORD 

Janie is the lush young virgin ... and much depends on just that. Five 
thousand big green dollars, to be exact ... all she has to do is keep her 
maidenhead firmly in place until next Saturday night and when - WHAMO! - her 
rich old suitor would pay that price to Pa as a dowry ... but only on that 
condition. Pa's fortune rode and fell on that tiny flesh membrane. Of 
course, it was all Pa could do himself to keep from claiming the choice 
morsel ... as he checked her out down there every time she passed by. Of 
course, the other route was open to him ... and if Pa couldn't take care of 
it, Little Brother certainly would, if he was finished with the cow, that 
is. 

 * * * 

Chapter One 

The firm round globes of Janie's ass still smarted from the strapping her 
father had given her a few minutes ago, and every so often she would wince a 
little and shift her position in the rocker. She had been sewing on the new 
dress she meant to wear when she ran away, but she couldn't concentrate. The 
strapping had made her horny-the way a strapping almost always did-and now 
she couldn't keep her mind off her pussy. 

It was odd, she reflected, that something that hurt so much should at the 
same time make her feel so good between her legs. But it did, and lately 
she'd even begun to sass Pa every now and then just so he'd strap her. She 
loved it. Not the kind of strappings he gave her when he was really mad, of 
course. Those almost killed her. But the gentler ones, like the one he'd 
given her today, were just down right wonderful. 

Golly! Was she ever horny! Even her nipples were stiff! 

She glanced across the room at her little brother Billy, asleep on his 
pallet. Billy was nine, and mean as sin, and sometimes he pretended to be 
asleep when he wasn't. It was awful, having to share a room with 
someone-especially when you were so horny you just had to do something about 
it, even if you got caught at it. 

Well, she'd just have to take a chance he was really asleep, that's all. She 
bunched the new dress up in her lap, to serve as a shield from Billy if he 
should wake, and slipped her hand up under her brief skirt and cupped the 
silky nest between her legs with her palm. She wore no panties; she didn't 
even own a pair. 

She sat that way for a few moments, completely motionless, feeling the hot, 
moist lips of her pussy swelling out against her hand-an exquisitely formed 
fifteen-year-old girl with pert, uptilted breasts, gold-blonde hair that 
reached to the small of her back, and widely-wet, dark-blue eyes with 
incredibly long lashes. 

She was so hot she couldn't sit still. She pushed the tip of her forefinger 
between the swollen lips of her burning slit until she felt it touch her 
cherry, and then ran her finger slowly around and around, in a circular 
motion. Almost instantly hot juice began to flow, and in a few moments her 
hand was laved with it. She reached down with her other hand and pulled her 
skirt back from beneath her ass so that it wouldn't get soaked, as it had 
more than once before when she'd forgotten to pull it up in time. 

She slipped another finger into her cunt, and then a third, spreading the 
lips wide, rubbing harder now, feeling the lips trying to close on her 
fingers like a hungry little mouth. 

It felt so good that she gasped with pleasure. On his pallet, Billy stirred, 
and then suddenly sat up and began to rub the sleep from his eyes. 

Oh, darn, Janie thought. Now I've woke him up. 

Billy pushed the tow hair out of his face and stared at her with his mean 
little eyes. "Wacha doing?" he said. 

"I'm making a dress, silly," Janie said. "What's it look like:" 

"Your wedding dress?" he said, getting to his feet. 

"No." 

He started for the door, scratching at his crotch. "Well, you better get a 
move on," he said. "You only got a week to go, you know. After that, you'll 
be bedding down with old Jud Slathers, and I'll have this room all to myself 
for a change." 

"Don't be so sure, smartie," Janie said, moving the folds of the new dress a 
little so that Billy couldn't see that the dress she had on was hiked up 
around her waist. 

Billy laughed. "The only trouble is, Jud's so damn old. It'll probably kill 
him the first time he gets at you. Then you'll be back, and I'll have to 
share the room with you again." 

"What a way to talk to your sister," Janie said. "You ought to be ashamed." 

"Oh, I am, I am," Billy said. He hitched up the galoshes of his overalls 
just the way her father did, yawned, and left the room. 

Janie immediately slipped her finger into her cunt again - but now she 
couldn't seem to help thinking about what a terrible situation she was in. 
She simply had to run away. She had to ... 

Ever since Ma had died, life here on the mountain farm where she'd been born 
and raised had been just plain miserable. Pa had always been mean, but with 
Ma gone he'd gotten meaner and meaner. He'd taken to drinking more and more 
of his own moonshine too, and half the time he was so drunk he couldn't 
stand up. And he'd gotten so evil-tempered that all she had to do was look 
at him slantwise, and he'd go for the strap. 

And now, just a week from today, he was going to make her marry Jud 
Slathers, one of the ugliest, dirtiest old men in the hills. But he was a 
rich man, even if he did live in a filthy shack no bigger than the one she 
was in now, and she knew for a fact that he was going to settle five 
thousand dollars on Pa for her. Buying her like a heifer, that's what it 
amounted to. She shuddered, just thinking about Jud. Just the sight of that 
snag-toothed, leering face with the tobacco juice stains on the scraggly 
beard was enough to make her sick to her stomach, and the thought of having 
him do something to her was more than she could bear. 

She would die if she had to stay and marry Jud, she knew. She was a 
beautiful girl, and she wanted the things a beautiful girl was entitled to. 
The kinds of things they had in the cities, where the bright lights were, 
where there were men to appreciate her and give her presents and be kind to 
her. 

Yes, she had to run away. And not only to keep from marrying Jud Slaters, 
not only because she wanted the city things she had a right to. She had to 
get away, and very soon, before Pa ... The thought of what Pa was surely 
going to do before she married Jud Slaters made her sit bolt upright, the 
fingers stirring the thick, hot juice in her honey pot completely forgotten. 

As sure as God made little green apples, she knew, Pa was going to shove his 
monstrous cock all the way to the hilt in her tiny little rectum. He'd 
almost done it twice before-when he'd been blind drunk-and she knew beyond 
doubt that he'd manage to really do it the next time. He had only a week 
left before she was to marry Jud Slathers, and after that he would never 
have another chance. 

The thing was, Jud was giving Pa all that money on the condition that Janie 
was a virgin. And so, almost every day, and sometimes two or three times a 
day, Pa would grab her and put his finger in her cunt to make sure she still 
had her cherry. Every time he did, he'd finger her for a minute or two, 
getting himself all hot and bothered, and the pant leg of his overalls would 
bulge out almost all the way to his knee. 

When he was only half drunk, he'd let it go at that. But when he was really 
drunk, like day before yesterday, he'd take out his cock - every bit as big 
as Janie's forearm, with a knob on the end as big as a peach - and wrestle 
Janie around and try to get the horrible thing between the cheeks of her 
ass. And all the time he'd be grunting and groaning and slobbering and 
cussing because he couldn't afford to break her cherry, like he really 
wanted to. If he did that, he'd forfeit all the money Jud Slathers was 
giving him for a virgin. But he was determined to get his cock inside her, 
one way or another, and day before yesterday he'd actually started to work 
that big knob into her asshole. Janie had thought she was going to split in 
two, and she had screamed with pain. But Pa had been so worked up that just 
rubbing the head of his cock against her twitching little anus had made him 
go off. Janie had felt a great splash of scalding jism that drenched her 
whole ass, and then Pa had begun to buck and shake, like a dog shitting 
peachstones, and Janie had seized the opportunity to wrench away from him 
and lock herself in her room. 

Now, Janie thought about the strapping she'd received less than an hour ago, 
which Pa had said he was giving her just for good measure. He was going off 
somewhere, he'd told her, and probably wouldn't be back all night. And now 
she recalled that she'd seen him put his pistol in his pocket before he 
left. Which was very unusual, because he usually took his rifle. 

"Mind you jeep your eye on that whiskey still, missy," he'd said just before 
he climbed in his battered old pickup truck and started down the rutted road 
that wound through the Smoky Mountains for almost ten miles before it 
finally came out on the highway to Chattanooga. "I want that mash cooked 
right and proper. If it ain't, I'll be giving you a wedding present you 
won't like one little bit." 

"Yes, Pa," Janie said, rubbing her stinging buttocks. 

"And don't be leaving the cabin after sundown. You hear?" 

"Yes, sir." 

"I don't want none of these young bucks around here fooling with you nohow 
at all. You hear me, girl?" 

"I hear you, Pa." 

"Well, make sure you remember it. Unless you crave the ungodliest strapping 
you ever heard tell of. I'll make them hams of your'n purple up like 
eggplants." 

"Don't you worry, Pa." 

"It's you had better worry. Fetch me a jar of 'shine. I plumb forgot to 
bring one." 

She'd run to the cabin, grabbed up one of the quart fruit jars she had just 
filled with corn whiskey, and rushed back to the truck. 

"Mind what I told you now," Pa said. "I don't keep that strap hanging on the 
wall just for show, you know." 

The sound of the banjo clock striking in the other room of the shack brought 
Janie's mind back to the here and now. She took her fingers out of her cunt, 
dropped the new dress into the rocker, and went over to twist the wooden 
knob that locked the door. Darned if she was going to worry herself about Pa 
or anything else right now. She was going to finish up what she'd begun 
before Billy woke up and interrupted her. 

She hurried over to her side of the room, separated from Billy's side by a 
blanket suspended on a rope, and drew her dress over her head. Since she'd 
never owned a brassiere or panties, she was completely naked. Her slender, 
young-girl's body, with its jutting breasts, tiny waist, flaring hips and 
long, tapering legs, was without a single flaw or blemish. Her skin - 
creamy-white and warm looking, like sunlit ivory-was sheened with a thin 
film of sweat. 

She moistened her lips and stood looking down at herself, rubbing the palms 
of her hands slowly up and down the upper curves of her thighs, wishing Roy 
Wilson could see her this way. But of course, if he ever did, he'd probably 
grab her and throw her down on her back and bust her cherry - and then Pa 
would kill her for cheating him out of Jud Slather's money. 

Here lately, she reflected, she had begun to think about Roy Wilson almost 
every time she started getting horny. He was the most handsome young man in 
all the hills, and she'd had a crush on him ever since she was a little 
girl. And that's how he still thought of her, she knew - as a little girl. 
She wondered what he'd think if he knew she spent so much time in the 
bushes, waiting for a glimpse of his prick. He wouldn't think she was such a 
little girl then, by golly. 

Because that was exactly what she did. Almost every day she'd go over on the 
ridge, where Roy had his whiskey still, and hide in the brush and watch him, 
sometimes for hours at a time. She'd kneel there in the bushes, kneading a 
breast with one hand while she fingered her pussy with the other, devouring 
every movement of Roy's big, muscular body. 

And always she was hoping he'd have to pee, so that she could see his 
beautiful prick. 

She'd never forget the first time she saw it. Roy-who hadn't been aware 
anyone was within a mile of him-had taken it slowly, almost lovingly, out of 
his pants and sent a yellow stream arching up into the air to splash down on 
a rock six feet away. Janie had gasped at the size of it, at the sheer 
beauty of it. It had been such a gorgeous-looking thing that she had almost 
come right then and there, just at the sight of it. She had known just by 
looking at it, that the long, thick shaft would be satin-smooth to the 
touch, and she had wanted more than anything to rush over to him and feel it 
and run her hand back and forth along its length. 

Thinking about Roy's prick had started her cunt to flowing again, and she 
could feel the hot crawl of love juice down the insides of her thighs. She 
spread her feet apart, curled a finger between the tumid lips of her slit, 
and then raised the fragrant, glistening fingertip to her right breast and 
rubbed it slowly back and forth across the nipple. 

The spiky pink nipple was already firm, but now it instantly became as hard 
as flint. She watched it swell to twice its normal size, then put the 
forefinger of her other hand in her cunt and did her left nipple the same 
way. Both nipples had changed from pink to fiery-red, and now the little 
dimples in the tips were beginning to exude tiny pearls of love juice of 
their own. 

She was breathing rapidly now. She lay down on her cot, raised her knees, 
and spread them as far apart as she could. Then, separating the pulsing 
folds of her pussy with one hand, she began to rub the exposed inner lips 
with the fingers of the other. She was so wet that the movement of her 
fingers made sticky, sucking sounds, while the hot juice welled up between 
her fingers and flowed over the back of her hand, The heavenly perfume of 
her pussy was strong in the room now, and she took in one deep breath after 
another, savoring it. 

She rubbed faster and faster, thinking about Roy Wilson's prick, imagining 
how it would feel if it were inside her. It would be rock-hard beneath that 
velvety skin, and the big pink head would be swollen and throbbing, the 
little eye at the end wide open. 

Moaning with excitement, she took the pillow from beneath her head and put 
it between her legs, mashing it up hard against her cunt, and locked her 
legs around it. Then she closed her eyes and pretended that the pillow was 
Roy, and that he was doing it to her. 

She began to roll her hips, scissoring her thighs against the pillow, 
throwing her pussy up against it, as if she were meeting Roy thrust for 
thrust. In her mind, she could feel the head of his prick pounding against 
the neck of her womb, his big balls slapping against the wet cheeks of her 
ass with every stroke. 

She cupped both breasts with her hands and began to rub the nipples between 
thumbs and forefingers. She was going to come in a moment, she knew; she 
could feel that wonderful warm surge starting way up inside her. 

"Fuck me, Roy," she murmured. "Oh, fuck me, fuck me!" 

The door rattled. Then someone shook it and hit it with a fist. "Hey!" Billy 
said. "What the hell?" Open up, Janie." 

Damn it all, anyhow, she thought Just when I was about to have the best come 
I ever had! 

She put the pillow back at the head of the cot, slipped into her dress, and 
went to the door. 

"What's the all-fired big idea?" Billy said. "This is my room, too, you 
know." 

She tossed her head and flounced past him, slamming the door behind her. 
What a brat, she thought, what a little monster. He was still one more 
reason she had to get away from here. 

She looked around the front room of the shack with distaste. She tried to 
keep it as neat as she could, but with Billy the way he was and Pa drunk 
most of the time, it never looked much better than the pig pen. There were 
two cots, on opposite sides of the room, and a rickety old table and four 
even more rickety straight chairs in the middle of the bare plank floor. 
There were big knotholes all over the floor, and sometimes a rat would stick 
his head up through one of them and frighten Janie half out of her mind. In 
one corner there was a big iron cookstove, which served for both cooking and 
heating, and in another corner were half a dozen six-foot stacks of heavy 
wooden boxes filled with jars of moonshine. Pa's rifle and shotgun hung on 
nails at either side of the door, and his clothes hung from a row of nails 
over the cot he used. On the table sat an ancient battery radio, with the 
batteries beneath the table, and a wire that ran up through the roof to an 
aerial. Pa'd once told Janie that the radio was twenty years older than she 
was. 

She glanced toward the door of her room, then turned her back to it and 
cupped the hot little nest with her palm for a moment. She was simply 
streaming. The insides of her legs were wet and sticky all the way down to 
her knees, and the golden triangle beneath her hand was so soaked that it 
was a mass of dark, springy little curls. She'd have to bathe, and that of 
course meant a trip to the spring, where she bathed herself every morning. 

As she walked down the slope toward the spring, she glanced up toward Piney 
Ridge, as she had done so many hundreds of times before. There was every 
anything on the road up there in the daytime but cars and trucks. But she 
always looked, hoping that maybe, this time, she'd see a bus. 

The bus to Chattanooga. 

The bus came along the ridge just after midnight, and on nights when Janie 
was troubled in her mind and couldn't sleep, she'd sit by the window in her 
room and watch for it, watch it go past up there, and ream about how 
wonderful it would be if only she had enough money to board it and go to 
Chattanooga. Where there wasn't any drunken Pa wanting to force his horrible 
big cock up her tight little asshole, where there weren't any smelly whiskey 
stills to work over in the hot sun, where a girl could fuck handsome young 
men like Roy Wilson without having her pa strap her to death for it. 

She sighed, and hurried on down to the spring. It came out of a big rock, 
spilling down almost ten feet to a pool in a stream that ran between the 
rock and a copse of trees. There was an old, weed-grown dirt road, hardly 
more than a pair of ruts, that wound through the trees. But no one ever used 
it except Pa, and she never worried a bit about him seeing her naked and 
getting himself so worked up he'd try to ram that big ugly cock of his up 
her rectum. Pa never walked anywhere he didn't have to. And that rattly old 
truck of his made so much noise that she would be able to hear it in plenty 
of time to put her dress back on and hide until he had passed by. Of course, 
there was always a chance that Billy might come this way. But, for some 
reason, she didn't care one bit whether he saw her naked or not. 

She hung her dress on a bush, tied her long blonde hair into a loose knot on 
top of her head, and waded out into the stream to stand beneath the spring, 
bending her body to one side to keep her hair from getting wet. The water 
was icy cold, and she slapped at her shoulders and arms to take the sting 
out of it. She laughed, watching her nipples shrink back to their normal 
size, and then, under the cold water, almost shrivel in on themselves. Even 
her breasts themselves seemed to grow a little smaller. 

When she had stayed under the spring as long as she could, she walked over 
to where the water in the stream ran fastest, and sat down. There was more 
than one way to bathe dried love juice from a girl's body, and this was the 
way she liked best of all. Of course, it started fresh love juice to 
flowing, but that was immediately washed away by the water. 

She was sitting in water only six inches deep, but the current, fed by the 
pouring spring, was so strong that it caused the water to churn and boil, 
throwing up plumes of spray when it struck the rocks at either side of her. 
It was so fast that it actually tugged at her body, almost as if it were 
determined to push her along the smooth pebbles on the bottom. 

She spread her legs wide, then reached down and pulled the lips of her cunt 
as far to each side as she could, leaving the mouth of her little tunnel 
wide open, the pink membrane of her cherry winking just beneath the inner 
lips. 

The stinging pound of the water against her tender tissue felt so good that 
she wished her cherry weren't there, so that the water could rush all the 
way up her. She bit her lip with pleasure, and pulled the lips of her cunt 
even further apart - until she knew that, if she pulled them any further, 
something would tear. The water was like a thousand little tongues, rough 
and insistent, all licking away at her gaping girlhood as hard as they 
could. At the very top of her cunt, her clitoris stuck out almost half an 
inch, quivering, sending a tingling sensation through her now slightly 
gaping anus created a sensation that made it almost impossible for her to 
sit still. 

It was suddenly more than she could stand, and she scrabbled to her feet and 
started for the grassy spot on the bank where she always lay to dry off in 
the sun. 

"Hi," a girl's voice said. 

Janie looked up, startled, unable to believe her eyes. At the back of the 
little grassy clearing, a young girl was sitting on a fallen tree. She was 
about twenty, Janie judged, a breathtakingly beautiful brunette in a white 
minidress that barely reached the tops of her thighs. She wore white boots 
of wet-looking leather that molded the calves of her exquisite legs as 
tightly as stockings. 

"Oh!" Janie gasped, covering her breasts with a forearm and her pussy with 
the palm of her hand. 

The girl laughed. "I'm sorry," she said in a soft, city voice. "I didn't 
mean to startle you." 

"You've been here all the time?" 

"And for some time before you came," the girl said, smiling. "I stumbled on 
to this spot yesterday, and I came back today. It's one of the loveliest 
places I've ever seen." 

"You've been watching me." 

"Do you blame me? You're one of the loveliest girls I've ever seen, too." 

"You should have let me know you were here." 

"I know, but I just couldn't. I was just too fascinated by what you were 
doing." 

Janie felt her face flush hotly. "If I'd known -" 

"But you didn't, dear. And thank heavens for that fact. Otherwise, I'd have 
been denied one of the most exciting experiences of my life." 

"Exciting?" Janie said, stepping out onto the grass. "How could what I was 
doing make you excited? If you were a man, I could see how. But you're a 
girl." 

The brunette pushed an errant curl back from her forehead and crossed her 
legs the other way, displaying a brief flash of pale blue bikini panties 
with narrow, pink-lace edging. 

"There's no law that says one girl can't appreciate another, is there?" 

"It still wasn't right, you spying on me that way," Janie said. 

"You seemed to be having a wonderful time. I was thinking that sometime I 
might try the same thing myself." 

"You were?" 

"Yes. And listen. Do you really have to hide your pretties from me that way? 
After all, as you say, I am another girl." 

"I guess not," Janie said. 

"That's better. You're really something, aren't you?" 

"What?" Janie said. 

"How old are you, dear?" 

"Fifteen." 

"Fifteen! With breasts like those?" 

"They've been like this a year now. Well, almost like this. 

"You don't say." She moistened her lips, drawing the tip of her tongue 
across first the upper lip, then the lower. "Beautiful, absolutely 
beautiful. I didn't have anything like that until I was nineteen." 

"I don't guess I ever saw you before," Janie said. 

"And I haven't seen you before either, worse luck. I'm Rosanne Palmer. My 
brother and I've just rented a cabin two miles from here. We wanted to get 
away from everything for a while." 

"The Shanley place?" 

"Why, yes. How did you know?" 

"I heard some city people were renting it, that's all." 

"You must live very near." 

"This is our property. My pa's, I mean. What city are you from?" 

"Chattanooga." 

"Chattanooga! Really?" 

Rosanne was looking at the damp little thatch at the top of Janie's thighs. 
"Why, yes," she said, moistening her lips again. "Have you ever been there?" 

"No, but I sure want to go." 

Rosanne crossed her legs again. "Is that a fact? Well, you know, that just 
might be arranged. If you'd like to, my brother and I'd love to have you 
visit us. Would you like that, do you think?" 

"Oh, would I ever!" Janie walked over to the fallen tree, sat down beside 
the other girl, and began to brush some of the water off her body with her 
hands. 

Rosanne's eyes roved slowly down Janie's body to the tiny feet and then just 
as slowly back up again. "Oh, boy," she said softly, her eyes widening a 
little. "Simply delicious." 

"What?" Janie said. 

"Nothing." Rosanne got to her feet and smoothed the short white skirt down 
over her hips. "I'll be back in a second. All right?" 

"Where're you going?" 

"To my car. It's parked just off the road back there." She paused. "You know 
my name, but I don't know yours." 

"Janie June Hibbins," Janie said. 

"Don't go away, Janie," Rosanne said, starting off in the direction of the 
road. "Don't you even dare think about it." 

In a few moments she was back with an enormous beach towel. "This was still 
in the trunk from last summer," she said, shaking it out. "Stand up, Janie." 

"I always just let the sun dry me off," Janie said. 

"This way's better. Stand up, dear." 

"You don't have to go to all that bother," Janie said. 

"It's no bother, believe me. On your feet, baby." 

Janie stood up, and Rosanne walked behind her and began to dry her back and 
shoulders. 

"I was almost dry already." 

"Not dry enough, darling," Rosanne said, rubbing Janie's hips. "Goodness! 
What a pretty little fanny." 

Now that her back and shoulders were dry, Janie reached up and undid the 
knot in her hair and let it fall free. 

"Is that for real?" Rosanne said. 

"What? Oh you mean my hair? Sure it is. Why wouldn't it be?" 

"Wonders never cease," Rosanne said, rubbing the towel slowly up and down 
the backs of Janie's legs. "Now turn around." 

Janie turned around and reached for the towel. "I'll do the front." 

Rosanne laughed. "Oh, no you won't. Why should you have the best part for 
yourself?" 

"Huh?" Janie said. 

"Never mind," Rosanne said, and began to dry Janie's breasts - both at once, 
squeezing them gently through the towel, running her fingertips from the 
base out to the tip and back again. 

"They're dry now," Janie said. 

"Well, we want to be sure," Rosanne said, and began to rub with a firm, 
circular motion that made Janie's nipples begin to quicken. 

"They really are dry now, Rosanne," Janie said. 

Rosanne sighed and ran the towel across Janie's stomach, and then up and 
down the front of her legs. "You'll have to spread your feet apart," she 
said. 

"Why?" Janie said. 

"Well, you know. So I can dry you." 

Janie reached for the towel again. "I'll dry that" she said. 

"Over my dead body," Rosanne said, and slipped the towel between Janie's 
thighs, forcing her to part her legs. "Oooh, Janie! How delectable!" 

"How what?" Janie said. 

"Boy, are you blonde!" 

"Well, sure." 

"Just scrumptious!" Rosanne pushed the towel back and up, drying between the 
cheeks of Janie's ass, drawing the towel slowly back between her legs so 
that a thick fold in the cloth separated the lips of Janie's cunt and dried 
the pink, pouting lips. 

But not for long. The rough nap of the towel trailing between the folds of 
Janie's labia had stirred her so much that she had begun to flow, and now 
the lips of her cunt began to swell and glisten with drops of love juice. 

"Well, will you look at that," Rosanne said. "No sooner do I get you nice 
and dry than you make yourself all wet again." She extended a finger and 
traced the tip the length of Janie's steaming little slit and back again. 
"Why, darling, you're practically spurting! Aren't you ashamed? Whatever am 
I going to do with you?" 

"I can't help it," Janie said. 

Rosanne laughed. "Of course you can't, you adorable child," she said, and 
eased her finger into Janie's sex all the way to her cherry. "Oh, good Lord. 
This is too much. A virgin, no less!" 

"Yes, I guess I am," Janie said. She knew she should make Rosanne stop what 
she was doing right now, or she wouldn't be able to make her stop at all. It 
was all wrong, one girl touching another like this; her ma had warned her 
about it time after time. And yet, now that it was actually happening to 
her, it didn't seem wrong the least little bit. It felt strange, having 
another girl put her finger inside her. But it felt good, too. It felt so 
good she didn't think she could have made Rosanne stop even if she had 
wanted to. But still, she felt she had to make at least a token protest. 

"That-that isn't right," she said, as Rosanne's finger found the little 
button at the top of her cunt and began to roll it around and around in its 
oily cup. "You shouldn't ... " She broke off as Rosanne took the clitoris 
between thumb and forefinger and kneaded it gently, tugging at it, drawing 
it in and out. "Oh, Rosanne, she heard her own voice saying, as if from far 
away. "Oh, my goodness, Rosanne ... " 

Rosanne was breathing raggedly now. The beautiful dark eyes seemed slightly 
out of focus, and the smiling, full red lips were parted, trembling a little 
with the slackness of passion. 

"I-I better go home," Janie said. But she knew she didn't mean it. Wild 
horses couldn't have pulled her away. 

Rosanne stepped closer still and, still fingering Janie's cunt with one 
hand, raised the other to cup the jutting, upthrust cone of Janie's left 
breast. Then, almost before Janie realized what was happening, Rosanne's 
soft, warm lips had found her own. A firm, insistent little tongue worked 
itself between her lips, forcing them apart. Rosanne's tongue was a 
smooth-rough, tapering wedge that licked along the backs of Janie's teeth, 
and then explored the roof of her mouth. Then Rosanne drew Janie's tongue 
into her mouth and began to suck it, rubbing her own tongue back and forth 
beneath it, chewing on it gently as she worked it further and further back 
toward her throat. 

Janie stood trembling with pleasure, concentrating first on one delight and 
then another - the thrilling sensation of having her tongue sucked for the 
first time in her life, the way her hard, frantic little nipple bored 
against the caressing palm of Rosanne's hand, the constant spasming of her 
cunt under the other girl's furiously probing fingers. Without really 
thinking about it, she reached up and began to squeeze her right breast, 
rubbing her nipple between splayed fingers, feeling the tiny, syrupy 
emission from the dimple in the nipple crawling down the back of her hand. 
She could smell the heady, aromatic scent of her sex rising up between her 
and the other girl, and somehow the knowledge that Rosanne would be smelling 
it too excited her. 

Suddenly Rosanne released Janie's tongue and stood back, smiling, breathing 
hard. 

"What's wrong?" Janie said. 

"Nothing. I just had to come up for air." 

"Oh," Janie said. 

"Did you like that?" 

"Gosh, yes. Oh, did I ever!" 

Rosanne had taken her hand from Janie's breast, but she was still fingering 
her between her legs. "You're gushing, dear. Your legs are wetter than they 
were when you came out of the water." 

"Yes, I know. I sure wish you'd do that to my tongue again, though." 

Rosanne laughed. "To your tongue, and other things as well." She took her 
fingers out of Janie's cunt. 

"Do you have to stop?" Janie said. 

"Just for the moment, darling." Rosanne raised her juice-drenched hand and 
sniffed at it. "What a wonderful scent you have," Janie." She inhaled more 
deeply. "I noticed it a moment ago, when we were kissing." 

"I'm sorry," Janie said. 

"Sorry!" Rosanne said, laughing. "Sorry for what? For smelling so good?" 

"You mean you really like it?" 

"Like it? Why, you naive little angel, I love it." She put her fingers to 
her lips and began to lick the juice from them. 

Janie took a step backward, shocked. "What in the world are you doing?" 

"Tasting you," Rosanne said, twisting her hand around to lick the other 
side. "Lord, that's good! You taste even better than you smell." 

"For goodness sake. I never heard of such a thing." 

"There are a lot of things you haven't heard of-yet," Rosanne said, licking 
the last of Janie's juice from her hand. 

"Does it really taste good?" 

"It's the nectar of the gods, Janie. Nothing in this world could possibly 
taste anywhere near as good." She reached down and lifted the short skirt of 
her dress up around her waist. "You see? You aren't the only one who's 
pouring, dear. I'm simply soaked." 

Janie looked down at her. The pale-blue bikini panties were practically 
dripping, the thin material stained dark almost up to the waistband, molding 
every fold and crevice of Rosanne's sex like a second skin. 

Rosanne pushed the panties down, stepped out of them, and tossed them aside. 
Janie stared at the small vee of blue-black public hair and the swollen lips 
of the wet slit beneath it. The sunlight slanting into the clearing caused 
the droplets of juice in the dark thatch to sparkle like tiny diamonds. 

Rosanne pulled her dress over her head, unsnapped her brassiere, and dropped 
the garments to the grass. 

Janie sucked in her breath in admiration. She wouldn't have believed that 
breasts could be so big and still stand straight out that way. And she would 
never have believed that a girl could have nipples like that, either. They 
were no wider across at the base than her own, but the tips were thick red 
cones almost as long as the first joint of Janie's little finger. 

Rosanne put her palms beneath her breasts and pushed them up and out, 
smiling at Janie. "I take it you like what you see." 

"You've sure got a pretty figure." 

"So have you, darling," Rosanne said, and began to spread the beach towel 
out on the grass. 

"What are you doing?" Janie said. 

"You've got juice all over you again. You need another bath." 

"All right," Janie said, and turned in the direction of the stream. 

"Not that way, you little goose," Rosanne said, laughing. "Come back here." 

"But you said --" 

"Here," Rosanne said, patting the towel. "Lie down, Janie. I'm going to give 
you a bath you'll never forget." 

"You are?" 

"You better believe it, darling. Now lie down, like a good little girl." 

"But what are you going to give me a bath with?" Janie said as she sank down 
on the towel. 

"You'll see. Now stretch out on your back and put your hands behind your 
head." 

"Like this?" 

"Yes," Rosanne said. "Oh, dear ... that perfume from between your legs makes 
it hard for me to think straight." She lowered herself to her knees beside 
Janie. 

"I thought you liked it." 

"I do, you little idiot. That's just the trouble." 

"I can smell you too now," Janie said. "You smell nice as can be." 

"That's very sweet of you," Rosanne said. "Now you just close your eyes and 
lie real still. All right?" 

"All right," Janie said, and closed her eyes. In a moment, she felt 
Rosanne's hot breath on her face, and then the tip of Rosanne's tongue 
brushing against her lips. She thought Rosanne was going to kiss her, and 
she opened her mouth so that she could put her tongue in it. 

But instead, Rosanne merely licked Janie's parted lips for a few moments, 
and then ran her tongue across her cheeks and down to the hollow of her 
throat. Then she began to lick her way down to the valley between Janie's 
firmly pointing breasts. Janie felt her whole body begin to tingle as 
Rosanne's mouth moved up one of the pouting mounds to the nipple, and then 
down the other side, and back up to the nipple again, the broad, wet tongue 
constantly in motion. 

Janie felt her nipple being drawn into Rosanne's mouth, and suddenly she 
wished, for Rosanne's sake, that her nipples were as big and suckable as the 
other girl's. Then Rosanne opened her mouth wide, drawing as much of Janie's 
breast into it as she could, and Janie heard herself begin to moan. 

Rosanne chewed Janie's breast gently for a few moments, just as she had 
chewed her tongue, and then moved her mouth over to the other breast and 
gave it the same treatment. Janie felt the juice from her cunt running down 
the crack in her ass, tickling like tiny fingers across the little button of 
her asshole. She began to squirm. 

"Lie still, darling," Rosanne said, and brushed her lips down across the 
smooth swell of Janie's belly to her navel. The searching tongue explored 
the tiny depression, licking a drop of sweat from it, and then went on down 
to skirt around the edge of the wet, gold-blonde bush and start down the 
equally wet flesh of her inner thigh. 

Rosanne's tongue never stopped. Down to the dimple in Janie's knee it went, 
and then along the curve of the calf and the slender ankle - all the way to 
the bottom of Janie's tiny, high-arched foot. For long moments the tireless 
tongue massaged the tender hollow of Janie's- instep. Then it was darting in 
and out between Janie's toes, separating them, licking them one after 
another. Janie moaned again, wondering how much longer she could stand it 
before she had to plunge her fingers into her cunt to give herself some 
relief. 

"Turn over on your tummy, darling," she heard Rosanne say softly, her voice 
thick with passion. 

Janie turned over on her stomach, and now Rosanne's mouth and tongue started 
up the back of her leg, paused to lick for several seconds in the hollow of 
her knee, and then worked up inch by thrilling inch to the curving swell of 
her hip. 

Then, slowly and lovingly, Rosanne began to lick one of the smooth, firm 
globes of Janie's ass. Janie I lay with her tingling nipples pressed hard 
against the ' rough surface of the towel, her cunt seeping juice into it, 
her asshole spasming every time Rosanne's lips circled near to it. 

When Rosanne had licked every inch of the globe she had begun on, she moved 
her lips over to the I other and gave it the same careful attention. 

Will she? Will she really lick that, tool Lord, how \ Janie hoped she would! 
She'd never even thought of such a thing before Rosanne had started to bathe 
her with her tongue, but now she wanted it more than -- anything in the 
world. 

She felt Rosanne's breath directly on the crack in her ass, and she knew she 
was going to get her wish. 

Rosanne took a cheek of Janie's ass in each hand, pulled them apart, and 
touched the tip of her hot, wet tongue to Janie's tiny asshole. It had an 
electrifying effect on the young girl, and despite herself, she moaned with 
delight. 

"Shh," Rosanne said. She pulled the cheeks of Janie's ass even further 
apart, causing the little pink hole to gape wide open, and inserted her 
tongue. 

"Oh, oh, oh!" Janie cried. "Oh, Rosanne!" 

"Do you want me to do this, or don't you?" Rosanne demanded. 

"Oh, yes! Oh, golly yes, Rosanne! It's so good I - 

"Then be quiet." And keep your eyes shut. I enjoy it more that way. All 
right?" 

"Yes," Janie said. "Oh, yes." 

Rosanne's tongue slipped into her asshole again, and this time Janie forced 
herself to lie completely motionless and silent. The hot wedge of meat ran 
in and out, in and out, probing just a tiny bit deeper with every thrust. 
The puddle of juice beneath Janie's streaming cunt had now spread out so far 
that she could feel the wetness on the petal-soft skin of her belly. The 
rich, heady fragrance was so potent that, combined with what Rosanne was 
doing to her, she was beginning to feel a little lightheaded. She could 
smell Rosanne's pungent juice too, almost as much as she could her own. But, 
for some reason, the scent of her own pussy made her even more horny than 
the scent of Rosanne's - provocative as the older girl's was. 

Rosanne withdrew her tongue - slowly, running it around and around the rim 
of Janie's asshole for a long, final moment. "Turn over on your back again, 
baby. Raise your knees and spread them apart as far as you can." 

Janie did as she was told, careful to keep her eyes shut, and lay waiting, 
the puddle of juice cool against the small of her back. Rosanne was going to 
do it to her now, she knew. She was going to do the terrible thing Ma had 
warned her never to let anyone do to her, man or woman. But from the first 
moment Rosanne had put a finger in her cunt, she'd known that Ma had been 
wrong. Ma hadn't ever known what it was like; she couldn't even have 
imagined it, any more than Janie herself could have imagined it before she'd 
met Rosanne. 

And now she waited with streaming, pulsing cunt for Rosanne to begin. She 
opened her eyes and folded her arms beneath her head as a pillow. "Hurry, 
Rosanne." 

Rosanne smiled and knelt down between Janie's knees. "Well, now, aren't you 
eager," she said. "Can you be the same little girl who was so shocked a few 
minutes ago when ! wanted to taste her juice?" 

"I don't think so," Janie said. "I sure don't feel the same." 

"You aren't the same," Rosanne said. "And you never will be again." 

"Golly," Janie said. "I'm so terrible horny, Rosanne. I just can't wait." 

"Neither can I, darling." Rosanne moved a little closer, running the warm 
palms of her hands up and down the satiny flesh of Janie's inner thighs. 

"Oh, please," Janie said. "Please, Rosanne." 

Rosanne inhaled deeply. "Lord! That perfume! I just know you're going to 
have the sweetest little pussy I ever sucked." 

"Rosanne, please! I'm so doggone horny I just r can't stand it." 

"You know what we used to call a pretty little cunt like yours at girl's 
school?" Rosanne said. "We called it table pussy. We used to kid a lot about 
having to eat it with a spoon." 

"Honest, Rosanne," Janie said, beginning to squirm, "if you don't do 
something pretty soon, I think I'll go crazy." 

"Well, we can't have you do that, now can we?" Rosanne reached down to pry 
apart the juicy folds of Janie's burning pussy. "How tight you are. See how 
your cunt clamps down on my finger-almost like it's sucking it." 

Janie moaned. 

Rosanne bent forward and glued her mouth to Janie's slit, forcing the 
passion-thick lips apart with her tongue. Janie felt herself beginning to 
open to the hot wedge of meat inside it, and she began to undulate her hips, 
thrusting her cunt hard against Rosanne's mouth. Rosanne's tongue was 
licking every fold and crevice now, her mouth sucking out the pouring juice 
with hungry little swallows. 

Janie felt as if a dam somewhere inside her was about to .burst. Every inch 
of her body was on fire. She reached down and caught her hands in Rosanne's 
hair and began to writhe so hard that Rosanne's mouth slipped off the 
slippery lips of her cunt for an instant. 

"Hey!" Rosanne said, before she quickly recaptured Janie's slit with her 
mouth again. "Don't shake so hard." 

"Oh, oh, ohhhh!" Janie moaned. "Oh, Rosanne! I'm going to come!" 

Rosanne buried her tongue in Janie's cunt all the way to her cherry, sucking 
the labia into her mouth. 

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Janie cried. 

And she did-harder and better than she ever had before. And kept right on 
coming, again and again, until she had had six hot, shuddering orgasms in 
less than a minute. 

A few moments later, as she lay trembling in the aftermath of her ecstasy, 
she felt Rosanne's tongue leave her pussy and began to lick the juice from 
her thighs. Actually, there was so much juice that Rosanne had to suck it 
up, her mouth making pleased little slurping sounds. 

"Oh, golly," she said as Rosanne moved her head up to lap at the juice on 
Janie's belly. "I just kept coming and coming." 

"I wish I could say the same," Rosanne murmured through a mouthful of juice. 
"I was just about to when you started to go off." 

"Oh, I'm sorry," Janie said. 

Rosanne sat back on her heels and smiled. "There's no reason for you to be. 
My timing was a little off for once, that's all." 

"I never felt so good in my whole life." 

"Nothing ever tasted so good, either," Rosanne said. "Both places, I mean. 
You know, I really can't decide which of your juicy little holes I like the 
best." She licked her lips, as if remembering. "That adorable asshole of 
yours is sweet as a nut. I could have sucked it all day. The only thing is, 
it's so tiny that all I could get in was just the very tip of my tongue." 

Janie had completely forgotten all her troubles in the delirious minutes 
under Rosanne's skilled sucking, but what the other girl had just said had 
brought them rushing back. She sat up and clasped her hands around her 
knees. 

"My pa wants to get a heck of a lot more than that in there," she said 
soberly. "He wants to shove his whole big thing up me." 

"Up that little hole?" Rosanne said, lying on her side and propping herself 
up on an elbow. "You must be kidding." 

"No, I'm not. It scares me to death, just to think about it. He's got the 
biggest, ugliest thing you ever saw. It'd split me in two. It'd probably 
even kill me." 

"You must have quite a father. It's big, you say?" 

"Big as a bull's. It's more than a foot long and about three inches thick. 
And the knob on the end is as big as my fist." She raised her arm and made a 
fist to demonstrate. "This is just the way it looks, Rosanne. Honest. And 
there's little knobs all over the big knob. There's warts or something all 
over the shank of it too." 

"Merciful heavens," Rosanne said. 

"He's been wanting to get it up there for the longest time now. He almost 
got it in me the other day, but he started coming and threw a fit, and I got 
away from him." 

"But why in the name of reason would he -? 

"Because he can't do it to me in my pussy, like he'd really like to." 

"Oh?" Rosanne said. 

"Because that would mean busting my cherry. And if he did that, he couldn't 
sell me to Jud Slathers." She told Rosanne about Jud's settling five 
thousand dollars on Pa to marry her, provided she was still a virgin, and 
about the way Pa inspected her every day to make sure she still was. 

Rosanne had listened with wide eyes and open mouth. "Now I've heard 
everything. Your father ought to be put in a cage, Janie. He's an animal." 

"Don't I know it," Janie said. 

Rosanne extended her arm, slid her hand beneath Janie's bottom, and rubbed a 
fingertip against Janie's asshole. "Putting a horrible thing like that in 
this little treasure would be criminal," she said as she withdrew her hand 
and touched her finger to her tongue. "What's your mother have to say about 
all this?" 

"Ma's gone to glory. There's just me and Pa and my little brother Billy." 

"I see." 

"Billy's almost as mean as Pa, and Pa's the meanest person that ever way. He 
straps me ail the time until I can't hardly sit down." 

"You poor darling. Anybody that would strap a beautiful little ass like that 
ought to have his balls cut off." 

"I wish somebody would. Then he wouldn't be horny for me any more. He'd be 
like that old gelding horse we used to have." 

"I can't imagine why you stay around such people. If I were you, I'd run 
away." 

"That's just what I mean to do. And I've got to do it before Saturday." 

"Before Saturday? Why?" 

"Because that's when I'm supposed to marry up with Jud Slathers." 

"Could your father really make you marry a vicious old man like that?" 

"He'd kill me if I didn't, Rosanne. He really would. But what scares me so 
much is what Pa's going to do before Saturday. He's just got till then to 
jam that big old ugly thing up my behind. After that, I'll belong to Jud, 
and Pa won't even have another chance." 

Rosanne shook her head compassionately. "I wish you were mine. I wish I 
owned you completely, every yummy little inch of you." 

"Like a wife, you mean?" Janie said. 

"Yes, dear. Just like a wife." She reached down between her legs, slipped a 
finger deep between the glistening, still-wet lips of her cunt and began to 
work it slowly in and out. "You don't mind if I frig myself a little, do 
you, Janie?" she said, rolling over on her back and spreading her thighs. 
"I've just got to put out the fire down there." 

"Gosh, no," Janie said. "You go right ahead, Rosanne." 

Rosanne lay with her eyes closed, the full red lips parted slightly to 
reveal perfect white teeth and the moist pink tip of her tongue. The 
shimmering curtain of midnight-black hair spread out around her head 
glistened with blue highlights. Her big, firm breasts pointed straight up, 
and in both of the tiny depressions in the carmine cones of her nipples a 
droplet of dew was forming. She worked another finger into her slit, and 
then another. 

"Golly," Janie said, shifting her position a bit so that she could see the 
other girl's pussy a little better. "I wish I could do that." 

"Don't you ever play with yourself, Janie?" Rosanne said. 

"Well, sure. But I can't get three fingers in. I can't even get one in very 
far, because of my cherry." 

Rosanne was frigging herself faster now. "But you can make yourself come, 
can't you?" 

"Yes," Janie said. Watching Rosanne's fingers moving in and out of the pink 
crevice in the juice-wet black bush had started Janie's own slit to flowing 
again. She reached down, put her finger in herself as far as it would go, 
and began to run it in and out in time with Rosanne's. When she looked down, 
she saw that dew was forming on the tips of her nipples, too. 

"Most girls think about boys while they're fucking their finger," Rosanne 
said. "Me, I usually think about girls. I pretend to myself that some pretty 
little thing has got her tongue in there." 

"I always think about Roy," Janie said, smelling the perfume of her sex 
begin to drift up to her nostrils. "He's a bootlegger, but he's one of the 
nicest, handsomest men you ever met." 

"You like him a lot?" 

"Oh, yes. But Roy still thinks of me like I used to be. I used to go over 
and pester him when he was working his still. He'd always laugh and tell me 
to wait till I grew up a little bit. Now I'm afraid to let him see me over 
there. He might get so horny he'd throw me down and take my cherry." 

"I think that's a distinct possibility," Rosanne said, beginning to wriggle 
her hips against the relentless thrusting of her fingers. "It's a wonder 
someone hasn't done that to you already." 

"But if he did, Pa would strap the hide off me." 

"Yes, that's right. That little cherry of yours is worth five thousand 
dollars to him." 

"I still go over on the ridge where his still is, though," Janie said, 
rubbing a fingertip back and forth across the oily button of her clitoris. 
"I hide in the bushes and watch him." 

"In heaven's name, why?" Rosanne said. 

"Because sometimes he has to pee. And then I get to see his thing." 

"Oh," Rosanne said. "Well, that's reason enough, I suppose. But I thought 
you were afraid of pricks." 

"It's just my pa's I'm scared of-because of where he wants to put it. But 
with Roy's, it's different. I just can't look at it enough." 

"Well, there's something about a prick, all right. I rather like one for a 
change of pace myself, now and then. My brother's prick, for instance, is 
absolutely-exquisite." 

"You mean you've seen it?" 

Rosanne laughed. "Yes, you darling little innocent. I've seen it any number 
of times." 

"Roy's isn't near as big as Pa's, but it's big enough for me." 

"Almost any prick would be big enough for that tight little honey pot, 
Janie. Even your little brother's, probably." 

"Oh, I'd never let my own brother -" 

"Don't knock it till you've tried it, honey," Rosanne said, and laughed. "I 
don't know when I've had such a crazy conversation. I mean, I don't know 
when I've had a conversation at such a crazy time. I mean ... oh, I'm so 
damn hot I don't know what I mean." 

"Huh?" Janie said. 

"Well, look at us. Here we are, frigging our cunts like mad, and jabbering 
away like a couple of gossips over a back fence." 

"It's fun, though, isn't it? I mean doing both things at once ... well, it 
sort of ... " 

"Yes, it certainly does," Rosanne said. "I wouldn't have believed it, but it 
actually does." 

"Roy's thing is so beautiful. I just wish I could got it inside me one time 
before I run away." 

"You can, you know," Rosanne said. 

"But I told you. If I lost my cherry, Pa would do it." 

"I'm not talking about your cunt, Janie." Rosanne, stopped frigging herself 
for a moment and looked over at her. "Hasn't it ever occurred to you that 
you could put Roy's prick in your mouth?" 

Janie sat bolt upright. "In my mouth!" 

"Yes, Janie, dear heart. In your mouth. Why not?" 

"Why, that would be terrible!" 

"Believe me, darling, it would be wonderful." 

"Put it in my mouth and ... and suck it, you mean?" 

"Well, naturally. What else would you do with it?" 

Janie started to say something, then stopped, thinking about the way the 
swollen pink knob of Roy's cock would feel against her lips - how it would 
taste if she ran her tongue across the little eye in the end of it, and then 
all around it, letting it slip into her mouth a little at a time. She felt 
her saliva begin to flow, just thinking about it. 

"It-it's too big," she said. "I couldn't get it in my mouth." 

"They're never too big. You'd be surprised what you can get in there, if you 
want to badly enough." 

"And then there's that other." 

"What?" 

"You know. That stuff that comes out." 

"That's the best part of it," Rosanne said. "It's hot and slippery and just 
a little salty. It's kind of like cunt juice, Janie, only a lot thicker and 
stronger." 

"I don't know what cunt juice tastes like, Rosanne," Janie said. 

"You mean you've never tasted yourself?" 

"No." 

Rosanne shook her head wonderingly. "I don't know how you could have 
resisted. But anyhow, you'll love the taste of a man's come, Janie. Believe 
me. I know what I'm talking about." 

"Would I have to swallow it?" 

"Have to? Why, baby, you'll want to. You won't be able to get enough of it." 

Janie's mouth was filled with saliva now, but, strangely, her lips were dry. 
She moistened them with the tip of her tongue and took a deep breath. "I get 
a funny feeling, just thinking about it. My mouth's watering something 
fierce." 

"You'll make Roy a happy man. And one thing sure. Once you suck him off, 
he'll never think of you as a little girl again," 

"Gosh, that's right," Janie said. "I never thought of that." 

"And he'll want to suck you too, of course." 

"Golly! Do you really think so?" 

"I'm positive of it." 

"Oh, would I ever like that!" 

"Sucking a man comes natural to a girl. But still, there's a certain art to 
it. If you'll come over to visit us sometime, I'll teach you." 

"Couldn't you do it now?" 

Rosanne smiled. "I don't know how. If you're going to learn to suck a prick, 
you must first have a prick to suck." 

"You mean I should bring Roy over with me?" 

"No, darling. My brother's cock will serve very nicely." 

"Your brother's!" 

"Don't say it that way," Rosanne said, laughing. "Fred has a lovely prick. 
And it's not too big for you, either. It's more or less 'mouth-sized,' you 
might say." She paused. "I'll teach you all the tricks, Janie. And then you 
can practice until you can do them too." 

"But I don't even know your brother." 

"A prick's a prick, baby, no matter who it's on." 

"Maybe he wouldn't want me to." 

"I assure you, darling, that's the least of your worries. He'll not only 
want you to, he'll undoubtedly insist on sucking you off too." 

"And after that, you'll be ready to give your friend Roy the best suck he's 
ever had. So how about it, baby? Will you come over to the Shanley place and 
visit Fred and me?" 

"If I can get away from Pa long enough. That's a pretty far piece over 
there. But if I can figure some way to do it, I'll sure be there." 

"That's my sweet little girl," Rosanne said. "And Janie?" 

"Yes, Rosanne?" 

"Were you paying attention while I was sucking your cunt?" 

"Lord, yes!" 

"Then you'd know just how to go about it, wouldn't you?" 

"Sure." 

"I'm terribly hot, Janie." Rosanne reached over, took one of Janie's hands, 
and put it on the dripping black nest between her legs. "See?" 

"Gosh, are you ever," Janie said. "You're burning up." 

"Would you like to put out the fire for me, Janie?" Rosanne said softly. 
"Would you like to suck me, darling?" 

Janie's mouth was watering so much she had to swallow twice before she could 
answer. "Yes," she said. 

"I want to suck you some more, too," Rosanne said. "Just lie down on me 
facing the other way, so we'll each have our head between the other's legs." 

Eagerly, suddenly almost frantic with anticipation, Janie lowered herself 
over Rosanne's body. "Like this?" she said. 

"Yes," Rosanne said. "But move that pretty ass back this way a little." 

Janie moved back until she felt her cunt press against Rosanne's face. "Is 
that better?" 

"Perfect," Rosanne said, and instantly slid her tongue into Janie's slit. 

Janie could hardly wait to start sucking, but first she wanted to explore 
Rosanne's pussy. She rested her chin in the warm, stucky hair, inhaling 
deeply of the rich, dizzying aroma that gusted into her nostrils, and then 
gently pried the steaming pink lips apart with her fingertips. 

Rosanne's tunnel was filled with juice that now welled up and poured out the 
bottom of her slit in a tiny rivulet. The glistening satin-pink inner lips 
were pulsing stickily against Janie's fingers, as if they were trying to 
suck them deeper inside. As Janie pushed the walls of the tunnel apart, 
fresh juice rose quickly inside it to form a little pool. 

Spreading the hot pink lips as wide open as she dared, Janie lowered her 
head and began to lick the inner labia. The taste of Rosanne's juice was 
sublime, and she began to suck at the inner folds greedily, working the warm 
sweet fluid back to her throat so she could swallow it. Meanwhile, she felt 
her own juice pouring out over Rosanne's face as the other girl's tongue 
quickened its darting thrusts against Janie's cherry. Oh, Lord. If only I 
didn't have that little pink door down there! If only Rosanne could stick 
her tongue all the way up inside me! 

Janie sucked Rosanne's cunt dry of juices as far down as she could reach, 
and then moved her lips back to suck the other girl's clitoris. The feel of 
the hot little morsel between her lips was delicious, and she could feel the 
vibrating flesh swell and swell until it was as big and hard as a small 
marble. 

Beneath her, Rosanne had begun to squirm and moan, her hard, sweat-slick 
breasts punching up against Janie's belly. Suddenly she drew her tongue out 
of Janie's cunt and began to lap at it furiously, dragging the flat of her 
tongue the whole length of the slit, like a dog lapping up water. 

Janie cried out with pleasure, and then rammed her pointed tongue down in 
Rosanne's tunnel until the tip was buried in the pool of juice at the 
bottom. She sucked up the juice and swallowed it, and forced her tongue down 
the tunnel again. This time she just held it there for a few moments, 
feeling Rosanne's cunt suck at it just the way Rosanne had sucked at it with 
her mouth when they had first begun to kiss. 

"Oh, my God!" Rosanne's muffled voice gasped from the drenched nest between 
Janie's legs. "You're going to make me come!" 

"I'm going to come too!" Janie cried, and shoved her tongue so far into 
Rosanne that she thought for a moment it would tear loose from its roots. 
She was so excited now that she was squirming almost as much as Rosanne, her 
belly slapping against the other girl's with wet, sucking sounds, her hard, 
sharp nipples boring into Rosanne's flesh just as Rosanne's were boring into 
hers. She began to plunge her tongue in and out of Rosanne's cunt as fast as 
she could, trying to sink it deeper with every thrust, pausing only an 
instant now and then to swallow another mouthful of Rosanne's honey. 

And now the warm flood deep inside her broke loose, and she began to come. 
She cried out softly and mashed her cunt against Rosanne's face at the same 
time she seized the other girl's clitoris with her lips and teeth and tried 
her very best to suck the juicy little love button all the way down her 
throat. 

She came so hard she thought she would faint. Rosanne was coming too, she 
knew, and wave after wave of scalding love juice flooded into her mouth as 
the other girl began to thrash about beneath her in the ecstasy of orgasm. 
The mouth on Janie's cunt had drawn her labia inside it, as if it meant to 
suck her inside out. 

A great warmth filled Janie's body, and she lay her cheek on Rosanne's 
steaming black mound and closed her eyes. And came and came and came .. 

 Chapter Two 

When Janie heard the banjo clock in the front room strike midnight, she blew 
out the coal oil lamp on the crate by her cot and went over to stand at the 
window and watch once again for the bus to Chattanooga. 

Pa hadn't come home yet, and she guessed he might be away all night, the way 
he'd said he might be. Over on his pallet behind the blanket, her little 
brother Billy was snoring as loudly as a grown-up. She was grateful. The 
only peace she ever had around there was when Pa was away and Billy was 
asleep. 

As she stood there, waiting for the bus to go by up on Piney Ridge, she 
raised her hands to cup her sharp-nippled breasts through the thin cloth of 
her dress, thinking about Rosanne. She'd probably never see Rosanne again, 
she knew. There was so little time left between now and Saturday that she'd 
have to spend every minute of it trying to figure out a way to get far 
enough away from Pa so that he wouldn't be able to find her and bring her 
back. 

That was the awful part about being only fifteen, she reflected, feeling her 
nipples beginning to swell out against her palms. An underage girl belonged 
to her pa, just like a pig or heifer. And if she ran away, all her pa had to 
do was tell the sheriff. Pa and the sheriff were as thick as thieves, and 
there was hardly a Friday morning when the sheriff didn't come out to the 
shack to pick up his case of free moonshine. Once Pa told him Janie had run 
off, every lawman in the county would know-maybe every lawman in the state. 
No matter where she went, they'd find her and bring her back. And when they 
did, Pa would strap every last inch of hide off her - Jud Slathers or no Jud 
Slathers. Not that Jud would mind a little missing hide, of course; the only 
flesh he didn't want to be missing was that little pink membrane in Janie's 
pussy. 

So it wasn't enough just to run away. She had to run far and run fast, and 
that meant taking a bus to Chattanooga, and then getting on an airplane and 
going to the ends of the earth-maybe even as far away as one of those 
foreign places like New York or California. 

And to run away like that meant she had to have a whole lot of money. She 
didn't know what it cost to ride an airplane, but it was bound to be a lot. 
Even to ride the bus to Chattanooga cost a lot. She wouldn't be surprised if 
riding an airplane to California or New York would cost as much as fifty 
dollars- maybe even more. And right now she had twenty cents-two dimes, 
hidden in the locket Ma had left her. 

She felt moisture from her nipples seeping out against her hands, and she 
dropped one hand to the warm little nest between her legs and began to move 
a fingertip back and forth between the lips of her slit. 

Somehow, she vowed, she was going to get the money to run away. How she was 
going to do it, she couldn't even imagine. But she had to have it, and she 
was going to get it, one way or another. 

She sighed, staring up at the ridge. There was a full moon, and the ridge 
was so bright that she could I see almost as well as if it were daytime. And 
now, just beneath the crest of the ridge, straight across from the cabin, 
Janie saw something that made her forget everything else completely. 

There, on the abandoned road that led down from the ridge through Nuzum's 
Notch, a car was moving very slowly with its lights out. As she watched, the 
car halted by the mouth of the China River cave, where she had played so 
often as a child, and two men got out. She could tell they were men, but no 
more than that. 

The men moved quickly, their shadowy forms merging briefly with the larger 
shadow of the car before they separated from it again and started toward the 
cave. And now they were carrying something between them, something that 
looked very much like another man. 

Janie realized she had still been fingering herself. Now she dried her 
finger on her skirt and pressed her face against the windowpane, straining 
her eyes into the night. 

The three shapes were swallowed by the black shadow at the mouth of the cave 
for several minutes. Then two of the men came back alone. They got into the 
car, still without having made a sound of any kind, and let the car coast 
down the slant of the road for a long way before they started the engine. 
The lights were still off. 

Janie watched the vague shadow of the car until it was out of sight, and 
then stood staring across the hollow at the black mouth of the cafe, stark 
against the silver-gray of the moonwash on the surrounding rocks. 

A person would be crazy to go up there, she told herself. A person would 
have to be touched in the head to even think about it. 

She was still telling herself this as she hurried out to the other room, 
took down the spare lantern from its nail on the wall, picked up some 
matches from the box beside the cookstove, and set out for the cave. 

She had been running up and down these hills all her life,' and except for 
slowing down a little when she circled the grove where Pa had his still, and 
which he had surrounded with trip-wires and deep, covered man-pits as a 
protection against revenue agents, she ran all the way. 

China River cave wasn't much bigger than the cabin. Janie lighted the 
lantern, set it on a rock, and looked about her. 

As always, running any distance at all had made her horny. The friction of 
her thighs against each other had always had that effect on her, even when 
she was little, and often she would run around the cabin a time or two just 
to achieve it. But now, when she didn't particularly want to be horny, she 
was a little annoyed. 

There was nothing at all in the cave, she saw. She knew it as well as she 
knew her own room, and there was no place where even a small object could be 
hidden, much less something the size of a man. She picked up the lantern 
again, walked over to the edge of the underground river, and stood looking 
down at the rushing water. The river poured through the cave so fast that 
the water seemed to boil. Janie shuddered. It was terrible to think about 
what had happened to the man the other two men had carried into the cave. 
The current would have sucked him out of sight in a second, she knew, and 
now the onrushing river would speed him through the bowels of the earth 
forever. 

The lantern didn't give enough light to see any of the blind fish she knew 
were in the river. They were round and white with a knob-like head, she 
recalled-just like pricks. 

As she turned to leave, the lantern glinted on something in the dust just in 
front of her, and she stooped to pick it up. It was a narrow gold tie-clasp 
with the name Duke engraved on it in very small script. 

She studied the clasp thoughtfully for a moment, then tossed it into the 
river. She wouldn't want anyone to know she'd seen it, because then they 
might suspect she'd seen a whole lot more. She put out the lantern and left 
the cave. 

As she started down the slope, Janie saw headlights on the road that led to 
the cabin. They were still a long way off, but they were coming fast. That 
would be Pa's pickup truck, she knew, and she began to run. If she meant to 
reach the cabin before Pa did, she'd have to run like blazes. What he'd do 
if he found her gone was just too awful to think about. 

It was a good thing her skirt was so short, she reflected as she raced 
across Froggy Bottom and started up the opposite slope toward the cabin, 
this was no time to be hampered. She wished she dared drop the lantern. 

She ran faster than she had ever run before, even in the daytime, and every 
time she came to one of Pa's trip-wires or covered man-pits, she leaped 
right over it, rather than lose the time it would take to run around it. But 
still, she had to circle around in back of the cabin, to keep herself out of 
the headlights of the approaching truck, and she reached her bedroom window 
only a few seconds before the truck pulled into the yard. By the time she'd 
pushed up the sash and climbed inside, Pa and some other man were already 
stomping across the creaking planks of the front porch. 

Then Pa was hammering on the door of her room. She hid the lantern behind 
the curtain and stood trying to catch her breath. Over on his pallet, she 
could hear Billy snoring away as hard as ever. It would take an earthquake 
to wake that boy. 

"Wake up in there!" Pa yelled. He was drunk, she could tell. Real drunk. 

"That you, Pa?" she called, trying to make her voice sound as if she'd only 
just awakened. 

"You know durn good and well it is. Get yourself out here, girl. We got us 
some company." 

Janie waited about as long as it would have taken her to put on her dress, 
and then opened the door and stepped out into the other room. 

"Breakfast," Pa said as soon as she appeared. "And don't let the grass grow, 
either." He was bald and toothless, but his shoulders and chest were 
enormous, and when he moved his arms, the bulging muscles writhed beneath 
the freckled skin like so many snakes. He was sitting at the table with 
another, much younger man, and right now he had that mean grin on his face, 
the one that meant he was mighty pleased with himself. "Eggs and ham and 
grits and taters and some of them damson preserves," he said. "Stir your 
stumps, Janie June." 

"Yes, sir, Pa," Janie said as she hurried over to the cookstove. "I'll have 
it fixed in no time, Pa." 

"You'd damn sight better. I'm hungry enough to eat a horse, dead or alive." 

The young man sitting at the table with Pa had dark hair and eyes and a 
small, neat mustache, and he was every bit as good looking as Pa was ugly. 
He smiled at Janie and started to get to his feet. 

Pa laughed scornfully. "No need getting up for the likes of her. That's only 
my daughter, Janie June." 

The younger man whistled softly. "Great God," he said. 

"What in tarnation's wrong with you, Burt?" Pa said. 

"You didn't tell me your daughter was so pretty. In fact, you never even 
said you had one." 

"I might as well not have, for all the good she is around here. A lazier 
female never came down the pike." 

"I never would have believed it," Burt said, running his eyes up and down 
Janie's body. "Who'd of thought any daughter of yours would look like that? 
No offense, of course." 

"All her looks does is make her sassy. It was the same with her ma, until I 
knocked some sense into her head." He slammed his fist down on the table. 
"Hurry up with them victuals, girl!" 

"I'm hurrying, Pa," Janie said. 

Pa reached out and turned a knob on the old battery radio on the table. "I 
figure there just might be something interesting on the radio about now-eh, 
Burt?" He laughed knowingly. 

Burt laughed too. "Why, yes. I think you might be right about that, Elmore." 
He was still staring at Janie. "My name's Burt Connor, Janie June." 

"I'm right pleased to meet you," Janie said, aware of the way her sweat-damp 
dress molded her breasts and belly, and turning a little to one side so that 
Burt could see her figure in profile. 

Harsh and strident guitar music filled the room, and Pa turned the radio 
down a little. "Fetch us ajar of 'shine, girl." 

Janie took ajar of whiskey and two water glasses to the table and went back 
to the stove, undulating her hips a little more than was absolutely 
necessary, just to see what Burt's reaction would be. 

Burt's eyes widened and he swallowed hard a couple of times. "You got a 
steady beau, Janie June?" 

"No, sir," Janie said. 

"I think you're funning me," Burt said. "I bet you got a whole slew of 
them." 

Pa laughed harshly. "You're growing calf eyes, Burt," he said, filling the 
glasses. "You must've seen a girl or two some time or other. But a man 
wouldn't know it, the way you're gaping at that one." 

"I've seen my share, all right," Burt said, staring fixedly at Janie's 
breasts, a glazed look in his eyes. "But I sure never saw anything as 
gorgeous as -" 

"Shhh!" Pa said, jerking his head toward the radio. "Listen." 

" ... and the Chattanooga police still have no leads in the robbery and 
abduction tonight of notorious gambler Duke Mahannah," the voice on the 
radio was saying through the crackle of static. "Informed sources, however, 
have revealed that Mahannah's wall safe, which his kidnapers apparently 
forced him to open, contained almost thirty thousand dollars ... In another 
and possibly related incident, three convicts escaped from a prison van 
passing through the city earlier in the evening. At a late hour, police were 
still uncertain whether the escapees were involved in Mahannah's abduction 
and robbery, but the fact that they are known to have stolen a car near 
Mahannah's club would seem to point very strongly in that direction ... " 

Pa switched off the radio, downed the entire glass of moonshine in four long 
swallows, and winked at Burt. 

"Well, now, what do you think of that? Damned if it don't look like 
somebody's gone and stole that poor Mr. Mahannah's thirty thousand dollars." 
He shook his head and clucked his tongue. "Course, you can't believe 
everything you hear on the radio. Right, Burt?" 

Burt was looking at the place where the hem of Janie's skirt met the tops of 
her thighs. "No," he said absently. 

"You reckon it was them convicts that done it?" Pa said, pouring himself 
another glass of whiskey. 

"It sure looks like it, don't it?" He laughed. 

"Uh-huh," Burt said. "How old did you say she was, Elmore?" 

"Fifteen. She got a little ripe before her time, I guess," Pa said. 

But shook his head and reached for his whiskey. He drank some of it, 
coughed, and drank some more. "You make good liquor, Elmore. For as strong 
as it is, it's right smooth." 

"Well, I thank you. I take my pains with it. Janie June, what the hell's 
holding up them victuals?" 

"It's all ready, Pa." Janie filled two plates at the stove and carried them 
over to the table. 

"You taken another minute getting this over and I'd of strapped the butt 
right off you," Pa said. "You burned them taters, too." 

"Can I go to bed now, Pa?" 

"Why not stay up with us a while?" Burt said. 

"You do all the things you was supposed to do today, Janie June?" Pa said, 
forking a slice of ham into his mouth. 

"Yes, sir." 

"You watch that mash all the time it was cooking?" 

"Yes, sir." 

"You slop the pigs and all?" 

"Yes, Pa." 

"Anybody come around here today?" 

"No." 

"You stay close to home, like I told you?" 

"I just went as far as the still, is all." 

Pa washed down the ham with a long swallow of whiskey and pushed his chair 
back a little. "Come here a mite closer, girl." 

"Oh, now, Pa," Janie said. 

"Come here!" 

"Pa, please. Not right in front of Mr. Connor." 

"Mr. Connor ain't going to mind one damn bit." 

"But, Pa ... " 

"Either come here, or go get the strap. One or the other." 

Janie stepped close and raised both hands to hide her face. 

"Did you think I was going to forget to inspect you? You figure I was so 
drunk I wouldn't think to?" 

"No, sir," Janie said. 

"Put your feet farther apart, damn it," Pa said. "You trying to fret me or 
something?" 

Janie spread her feet, and a moment later she felt Pa's hand slide beneath 
her skirt. Then Pa's finger was on her slit, the tip punching gently against 
her cherry. 

"Great God!" she heard Burt Connor gasp. "Elmore, that's your own daughter!" 

Pa laughed, continuing to work his finger around in Janie's pussy. "I sure 
hope I ain't discommoding your eyeballs none, Burt. This is just something a 
girl's daddy has to do, now and then." 

"But why are you -" 

"Of course, there ain't no law says you got to watch me." 

"No, but -" 

"And if you was watching any harder, your eyeballs would be sticking out on 
stalks like doorknobs." 

Janie spread her fingers a little and peeked through them at Burt. He'd half 
raised himself from his chair to watch what Pa was doing to her. His face 
was red and sweating, his eyes popping. Janie moved her feet further apart 
so Pa could feel her better. Somehow, having a handsome man like Burt watch 
Pa do it to her was kind of fun. 

"But what the hell are you doing, Elmore?" Burt said. 

"What's it look like?" Pa said. 

"I mean why. Why are you doing it?" 

"Just checking the bride-to-be, is all," Pa said. 

"Bride-to-be?" 

"And right soon, too," Pa said, slipping another finger into Janie's slit. 
"She's getting herself hitched come Saturday." 

"At fifteen?" 

"Sure. What the hell, Burt. Her ma was only fourteen." 

"But I still don't know why you're -" 

"I'm just checking to see she's still got her maidenhead. No maidenhead, no 
marrying. That's the condition the bridegroom and me agreed on. He's 
expecting a virgin, and that's what he's going to get." 

"I see," Burt said. 

"I check her every day," Pa said. "And the day it ain't there is the day her 
hide gets nailed up on the barn door." 

"Who's the lucky man?" Burt said. 

"A rich old coot, name of Slathers." 

"You're doing it too hard, Pa," Janie said. 

"Well, I reckon you've still got it all in one piece," Pa said, withdrawing 
his fingers. "And damn lucky for you, you have, too." 

"Can I go back to bed now?" Janie said. "I'm mighty tired." 

"Go on, then," Pa said. "I want you pert and lively in the morning, girl. 
You hear?" 

"Yes, Pa," Janie said as she turned toward the door of her room. "I was real 
glad to meet you, Mr. Connor." 

Burt wiped the sweat from his forehead and sank back in his chair. "It was 
sure some introduction," he said, extending a trembling hand for his whiskey 
glass. "I'll sure say that for it, by God. You're a right entertaining host, 
Elmore." 

"Why, I thank you," Pa said. "You get on to bed, Janie June." 

In the dark of her room, Janie felt her way around the blanket to her cot 
and sat down. She was filled with excitement. She knew now who the two men 
up at the China River cave had been, and she knew who it was they had thrown 
into the river. And she knew that at this very moment-here in the cabin or 
in the truck or somewhere - there was thirty thousand dollars. 

It sounded like all the money in the world. And one thing sure: it wasn't 
going to stay where it was one single second longer than it took her to find 
it. And she would find it too, by golly! There were only just so many places 
Pa and Burt could have hidden it, and sure as anything, sooner or later, 
she'd find it. And the minute she did, she'd be on her way. To New York, 
maybe, or California. She'd just find out at the airport what airplane was 
leaving the soonest for the farthest-away place, and get on it. 

It was all she could do to sit still, just thinking about her good luck. 
There wouldn't be any marrying up with that awful old Jud Slathers now, by 
golly! And there wouldn't be any more worrying about Pa splitting her ass 
wide open with that terrible big prick of his. Because, sure as the sun 
would come up tomorrow morning, she was going to find that money! 

And then it struck her that she still hadn't finished the white dress she'd 
been working on, the one she meant to wear when she ran away. She had only 
two dresses-the one she had on, and another one just like it hanging on a 
nail at the end of her cot-and neither of them would do at all. She did have 
the shoes Pa had ordered for her from the Sears catalogue - still in their 
box beneath the cot- for her to be married in. 

She had to finish her running-away dress right now, she knew. She had to 
have everything all ready so that, the minute she found the money, she could 
leave. 

She lit the lantern on the crate by her cot, got the dress and her sewing 
kit from the old hump-back trunk in the corner, and sat back down on her cot 
to go to work. 

Out in the other room she could hear Pa and Burt Connor laughing and telling 
jokes. 

They'd probably be roaring and cussing in there all night, celebrating the 
terrible things they'd done to poor Mr. Duke Mahannah. 

She had to smile, though, when she remembered how Burt's eyes had bugged out 
when Pa put his fingers in her pussy to inspect her. She'd never seen a man 
look so horny in all her life. It was a shame he'd been sitting down at the 
time; if he'd been standing up, his pants would have bulged out a foot. 
Judging by the way he'd been sweating and licking his lips, he'd been 
sitting there with his thing as hard as an old hoe handle. 

And now she became aware that Billy, on his pallet on the other side of the 
blanket, had stopped snoring. She tilted her head a little to one side, 
listening. 

Sure enough, she could hear him breathing hard and fast, practically gasping 
- the way he always did when he was playing with himself. He did it all the 
time, she knew. She'd caught him at it so many times she couldn't even keep 
track of them. Once, when she'd caught him doing it in the privy, he'd 
thrown the catalogue at her. 

She laughed to herself and began to sew again, humming softly. She'd never 
been so happy. After all, this was probably the last night she'd have to 
spend in this hated place. 

Suddenly Billy cried out, and an instant later his bare feet were pounding 
across the plank floor toward her cot. She frowned. What now? What's the 
little monster up to this time? 

Billy's face was contorted with fear as he rushed up to her, and his eyes 
were as big as dollars. He fell to the floor at her feet, threw his arms 
around her knees, and began to wail. He kept rolling his head back and 
forth, his shaggy, tow-colored hair yellow in the lantern light. 

Janie put the dress aside and sat looking down at him, bewildered. This was 
the first time she had ever seen him either cry or act afraid. 

"Oh, Janie!" he bawled. "Oh, goddamn!" 

"Hush," she said. "What's the matter with you?" 

He looked up at her, his thin, mean little face streaked with tears. "Lord 
A-mighty, Janie! I'm a gonner." 

"Will you stop that?" she said sharply. "What in the world ails you, 
anyhow?" 

"It's my brains," he choked. "They're running out my peter!" 

Janie felt her jaw sag. "They're what?" she said. "What're you talking 
about?" 

Billy scrabbled to his feet. "Look," he cried, pointing. "Just look at that, 
Janie!" 

On the front of his nightshirt, about a foot below his waist, was a wet, 
sticky-looking stain the size of Janie's palm. 

"Pa always said my brains would run out if I didn't stop playing with 
myself," Billy sobbed. "And now they've gone and done it." 

Janie stared at the stain with fascination. It was jism, all right, no 
question about it. But Billy was only nine years old, for heaven's sake! He 
wasn't near old enough to come yet. He wouldn't be for three or four years. 

"That isn't your brains, silly," she said. "Stop that blubbering." 

"It is too!" Billy said. "Pa warned me many a time. And now -" 

"You came, that's all," Janie said. "Like all boys do, sooner or later. Only 
with you, it looks like it's sooner." 

"It's my brains, damn it." 

"It's not. It's what comes out of boys when they play with themselves." 

"It never did before." 

"It will from now on, don't worry." 

"You mean that stuff comes out of people! Just like it does out of the 
he-stock? Like it comes out of the bull?" 

"Yes." 

"I'll be goddamned," Billy said thoughtfully, bowing his head to look at the 
spot again. "There was this real funny feeling in my peter. And all at once, 
there's that stuff shooting out of me." He glanced up at her through the 
tangle of hair hanging over his face. "Does it come out of you like that?" 

"It's just not the same with girls, Billy." 

"It kind of pained me and felt good at the same time. You reckon I hurt 
myself doing it? Boy, it sure feels funny down there." 

Billy wasn't the only one who felt funny down there, Janie reflected. All 
this talk about coming had made her slit begin to itch, and she could feel 
herself beginning to flow. 

"It'd be pretty hard to hurt yourself that way," she said, surprised at the 
direction of her thoughts. "But maybe you'd better look, just to be sure." 

Billy started to raise his nightshirt, then caught himself and turned his 
back to her. 

"You'll have to face this way," Janie said. "How can you see anything, 
standing with your back to the lantern like that?" 

He hesitated, then turned around to face her again. "Well, shut your eyes 
then." 

"Don't be silly. I've seen it before - dozens of times." 

Billy looked at her strangely for a moment. Then he shrugged, grasped the 
bottom of his nightshirt with both hands, and raised it up to his waist. 

It was hard for Janie to keep from showing her surprise. Always before, 
Billy had had his thing in his hand, playing with it, and she'd been able to 
see hardly any of it. But now, with nothing in the way, she could scarcely 
believe her eyes. Billy was only nine, but his peter-soft, hanging straight 
down, with a tiny pucker of foreskin at the end - was a good five inches 
long and almost an inch wide. There wasn't a single hair, she noted, either 
above the stem or on the round, pink-white balls beneath it. 

"It-it looks all right," Billy said dubiously. staring down at himself. "It 
just feels funny somehow." 

She shouldn't do this, Janie knew; it might lead to all kinds of trouble; 
but she couldn't help herself. She reached out and pressed the soft white 
meat between thumb and forefinger. 

Billy flinched. "Hey, what the hell?" he said. 

"Does that hurt?" Janie said, making her voice as casual as if she'd been 
examining a bruised knee. 

"No," Billy said. "It don't hurt. But you shouldn't ought to -!" 

"It isn't the least bit tender?" 

Billy pushed out his lower lip, scowling at her. "No," he said. 

Janie nodded. "Good," she said, running her fingertips along the stem to the 
hairless pubes and back again. The skin was satiny smooth, just like she'd 
known the skin on Roy Wilson's big cock would be when she'd watched him from 
the bushes at his still. 

"You're making it feel funnier than ever," Billy said. 

Out in the other room, Pa and Burt Connor were whooping and laughing. 

"You better hope Pa don't walk in on us this way," Billy said. 

"The door's locked," Janie said. "The shank seems to be all right, Billy. 
But I think we'd better make sure about the end. Don't you?" 

"That's where it feels the funniest-on the end." 

Janie leaned forward, cupped Billy's balls with one hand, and with the 
fingertips of the other began to push the foreskin back from the moist, pink 
glans. 

"Oh, oh," Billy said. 

"What's the matter?" Janie said, baring the little knob completely. "Does 
that hurt?" 

"Naw," Billy said, closing his eyes. "It don't hurt none at all, Janie. It 
... it ... " 

Holding the foreskin back with her fingers, Janie ran the ball of her thumb 
across the seeping eye of his glans. Almost at once, Billy's penis began to 
stiffen. Then, slowly, it began to rise - until it stood straight out, hard 
and quivering. 

"Well, for heaven's sake," Janie said. "Look what happened." 

"Hot damn," Billy said. 

"Are you sure I'm not hurting you?" Janie said, as she closed her hand on 
the hard, pulsing little shaft and began to milk it as if it were the teat 
on a cow. 

"God A-mighty no!" Billy gasped. "Do it harder, Janie." 

Janie squeezed a little harder, and lengthened her stroke. She was breathing 
just as fast as Billy was, and she felt the juice pouring out of her cunt 
onto the cot beneath her. She raised her free hand, cupped a breast, and 
began to roll the swollen nipple through the thin material of her dress. 

Billy shuffled a little closer to her, so that his penis was only a foot 
from her face. She bent her head, narrowing the distance even more, and 
looked at the pearl of moisture forming in the eye of the glistening little 
plum-shaped knob now just a few inches away from her eyes. 

"Janie ... " Billy said, his small body shaking violently. "Janie, I want 
you to ... to ... " 

"Yes?" Janie said. There was an aroma coming from Billy's prick, she noticed 
for the first time, now that she was so close to it. It was faint, but it 
was there-a sweet, musky smell that set her to inhaling more deeply. "Yes, 
Billy?" 

"I want you to ... to do me like the heifer done," Billy said. 

She glanced up at him. His eyes were shut tight, an angelic smile on his 
sweating face .. 

"What?" she said. 

"I was taking a pee in the meadow," Billy said dreamily. "The heifer came 
over and ... and began to lick my peter. It felt awful good, Janie." 

"I'll just bet it did." 

"Just wrapped her tongue all the way around it, and sucked and sucked. I 
thought sure she was going to suck it off me. I'd sure admire to have you do 
my peter like she did, Janie." 

"But I don't have a big, long old tongue like the heifer does, Billy." 

"No," Billy said, "but you could lick it good just the same, couldn't you?" 

"Well, yes, I suppose I could." 

"And then you could put it in your mouth and suck it," Billy said. "And 
that'd feel just as good as what the heifer done." 

"Do you really think so?" 

Billy moaned softly and moved so close to her that she could feel the heat 
of his body on her face. "Please, Janie. If you do, I'll never be mean to 
you again, so help me God." 

The smell of Billy's glans was stronger now, a little sharper somehow, 
mingling with the perfume rising up from the welling slit between her legs. 

"What if you ever told pa?" 

"I'd never tell him! I'd die first!" 

Janie felt her mouth juicing with saliva. "Well, I just don't know, Billy," 
she said thoughtfully. "Do you really think I ought to?" She slid off the 
cot to her knees before him, ran out her tongue, and licked the pearl from 
the eye of his glans. "Are you really sure you want me to, Billy?" 

"God A-mighty!" Billy said hoarsely. "Do it to me, Janie! Please, Janie! Do 
it to me like the heifer done!" 

"You might come again, you know." 

"That's what I want, Janie! That's what I want!" 

"Well," Janie said, moving her mouth toward the moist little knob, "in that 
case ... " 

There was a sound at the window. 

"Oh, God!" Janie cried, jumping to her feet. For an instant, she could see a 
blur of white against the glass. Then the face was gone, and she dived for 
the lantern and blew it out. 

Billy yelped and began to cry. "It was Pa!" he wailed. "He caught us, Janie! 
Now he'll kill us both!" 

Janie tried to still the pound of her heart against her ribcage. It was 
true, she knew; if that had been Pa out there, they were as good as dead. He 
might want to ram his monstrous cock up her ass, and he might rob and kill 
people like Mr. Duke Mahannah - but he thought anybody who did what she'd 
been about to do to Billy should be burned alive. She'd heard him say so a 
hundred times. 

"We're gonners, Janie!" Billy said in the darkness. "Pa's going to nail our 
hides to the shithouse door!" 

"Listen," Janie said. From the other room she could hear Pa stumbling 
around, cussing to himself about something. "It wasn't Pa," she said, taking 
the first deep breath she'd had since she'd heard the sound at the window. 
"He's still in the cabin." 

"Then who was it?" Billy said. 

"I think it was Burt," Janie said. "The man that came home with Pa tonight." 

"What would he be doing out there by the window?" 

"He probably had to go to the privy," Janie said. "When he saw a light on in 
here, he figured he'd take a peek." 

"Well, he sure got one hell of an eyeful then," Billy said. "And now he'll 
tell Pa, sure as shit stinks. He saw you start to suck my peter, Janie!" 

"Hush," Janie said. "Pa might hear you." She walked to the window and looked 
out in the direction of the privy. In a few moments she heard the flat slap 
of the privy door being shut, and then the dim outline of a man's figure 
loomed on the footpath between the privy and the cabin. She drew the 
curtains over the window and went back to her cot. 

"That's who it was," she said. "We had us a big scare for nothing, Billy." 

"It won't be for nothing if he tells Pa." 

"I don't think he will," Janie said. 

"Yeah? Why not?" 

"Because he knows what Pa would do," Janie said. There was a strange, 
pleasant taste in her mouth, and she realized suddenly that it was the 
aftertaste of the droplet of juice she'd licked from the eye of Billy's 
glans. "He doesn't look like a mean man at all, Billy. And besides, he likes 
me. I could tell from the way he looked at me while Pa was inspecting me." 

"You mean Pa shoved his finger up you right in front of him?" 

"Yes," Janie said, feeling around on top of the crate for a match to light 
the lantern. "You should have seen Burt's face." She lit the lantern and sat 
down on her cot. 

There was the sound of the front door opening and closing, and in a few 
moments Pa and Burt were laughing and joking again. 

"You see?" Janie said, smiling at Billy. "He isn't going to breath a word. 
Everything's going to be all right." 

Billy's face was still pale with fear. "Don't be so sure," he said. "He just 
ain't drunk enough yet, that's all." 

Janie ran the tip of her tongue across the roof of her mouth, tasting 
Billy's juice again. It was odd, she thought to herself, that the flavor 
would last so long, when there'd only been such a tiny drop of juice to 
begin with. It was almost as if she'd licked up a whole mouthful of it. 

What was it about love juice that made the taste of it last so long, she 
wondered? Rosanne's, for instance. The taste of Rosanne's sweet, juicy cunt 
had stayed in her mouth for hours-right up to suppertime. 

She ran her tongue slowly across her upper lip, remembering the way she and 
Rosanne had sucked each other, there in the sunny clearing by the spring. 
She'd practically been drinking Rosanne's juice then, just as Rosanne had 
hers. 

Of the two, she decided, she liked Rosanne's juice much better than Billy's. 
But that might be because she'd had so little of Billy's to judge by. 
Billy's was good too-very good. It was so good she wanted some more of it. 

"Billy," she said softly, feeling her slit begin to grow hot and itchy 
again, "come here." 

"Huh?" Billy said. 

"Don't you want to finish what we started? Don't you want me to do you like 
the heifer did?" 

Billy looked at her incredulously. "You out of your mind?" he said. "Look 
what happened." 

"But no one can see now," Janie said. "Please, Billy." 

"No, sir!" Billy said, turning away. "I ain't never going to do that again." 

"But I want to, Billy." 

"I don't care." 

"Please, Billy. You promised you'd never be mean to me again. Remember?" 

"That was before I got the shit scared out of me," Billy said, and walked 
around the blanket around the blanket to his own side of the room. 

Darn little monster! Janie thought as she heard him drop down on his pallet. 
It was a wonder somebody as pure mean as that didn't poison himself. 

She got the new dress and tried to work on it again. But she'd made herself 
so horny that she kept puckering the stitches. Finally she realized it was 
no use, and she put the dress away and blew out the lantern. Then she lay 
back on the cot, pulled her skirt up around her waist, and slipped her 
fingers into her streaming pussy. She just had to have some relief-and that 
was all there was to it. She could work on the dress later, after she'd made 
herself come a few times. 

As she frigged herself, she thought about Rosanne, pretending it was 
Rosanne's fingers in her slit. 

She'd come once, and was just ready to come again, when she recalled how 
surprised Rosanne had been to learn that Janie had never tasted her own cunt 
juice. 

The sudden recollection excited her so much that she felt a rush of saliva 
pouring into her mouth. Golly, how in the world could I ever have missed 
doing that? How come I never even thought about it? Well, she was going to 
make up for lost time. 

She raised a dripping hand to her face, sniffed deeply of the maddingly 
provocative scent of her pussy for a long, dizzying moment, and then curled 
her tongue around a finger and drew it out to the tip very slowly, almost 
fainting with the heavenly taste of herself. 

She sucked her juice from each finger in turn, then licked it from her palm 
and the back of her hand, mixing it with the saliva churning in her mouth, 
swallowing greedily. 

Who needs your old juice, Billy? .she thought as she reached down between 
her legs to drench her hand again. You silly little boy, I taste ten times 
better than you ever did! 

She lovingly sucked a finger dry, then another. 

You taste just wonderful, Janie, she said to herself as she lapped the warm, 
fragrant juice from her palm, thrilling with the wonder of her new-found 
delight. By golly, you taste even better than Rosanne! 

 Chapter Three 

The next morning, just after daybreak, Janie opened her door silently and 
tiptoed out into the front room. Pa lay sprawled out on one of the cots, 
snoring away, his toothless mouth yawning open. Burt Conner lay on his back 
on the floor, his head and shoulders under the table, an overturned whiskey 
jar beside him. 

The ancient radio on the table was grating away: a weather forecast. Janie 
turned it off and walked back to the middle of the floor and stood glancing 
about the room. Where should she look first? 

Then she noticed that Pa's pickup truck wasn't in the lane, where he usually 
left it. That meant he'd put it in the barn last night. Maybe he hadn't 
wanted it to be too handy for her or Billy to look around inside it. 

She went out to the barn. By golly, Pa had even shut the doors. She opened 
them and walked over to the truck. 

When she tried to open the door on the driver's side, she found it was 
locked. So was the door on the passenger's side. 

Now she knew the money was in the truck. It had to be. This was the first 
time she could remember that Pa had ever locked the doors. And why would he 
do it now? Unless ... She went up on her toes to try to peer inside the cab. 
She couldn't even see down as far as the seat, let alone see whatever might 
be down there on the floorboards. 

If only Pa didn't wake up so easy, she thought. If only she could get the 
keys out of his pants and ... Something nudged against the small of her 
back, and she gasped and whirled around, sure it was Pa who'd gone around to 
the other end of the barn and sneaked up behind her. 

But it was only the heifer. 

Janie sighed with relief. Then, vexed, she put her hands on her hips and 
frowned at the ungainly animal that stood looking up at her, chewing its 
cud. 

"Well, what do you want?" 

The heifer put her tongue out about six inches, lolled it around, and drew 
it back in again. 

"Oh," Janie said, remembering what Billy had said about the way the heifer 
had licked his peter. "So that's what you want! Well, just for your 
information I haven't got any peter. So there, smartie!" 

She started to turn away, still somewhat irked with the heifer for having 
frightened her, when it occurred to her that what the heifer had done to 
Billy she might very well do to Janie. In fact, the heifer might like to 
lick a pussy - especially one covered with fragrant dried love juice-even 
better than she would a little boy's prick. 

She glanced over her shoulder, to make sure no one had come out into the 
barnyard, then stepped close to the heifer and raised her skirt. 

"Lick me," she said. "Lick me, the way you did Billy." 

The heifer looked up at her, chewing rhythmically. Janie moved forward until 
the golden triangle between her legs was brushing the heifer's nose. "You'd 
better try it. It tastes even better than it smells." 

The heifer's long, thick tongue shot out, burrowed its way all the way back 
to Janie's asshole, then dragged back and up, forcing the lips of Janie's 
cunt wide apart, flattening itself out in the gap, and finally drawing its 
entire length across the swelling button of her clitoris, the rough, hot 
meat searing across it like a thousand little mouths. 

"Oh!" Janie cried, and seized the heifer by the ears, arching her back so 
that her pussy pushed out against the heifer's tongue. "Oh, do it again!" 

The heifer did-a dozen times or more-while Janie closed her eyes and felt 
the juice pouring out of her slit harder than it ever had before. Then the 
heifer took its tongue out of Janie's cunt and began to lick the dried juice 
from her mound and the tops of her thighs. 

"Put it back inside me, darn it! I was just about to come!" 

But the heifer took a slow, final swipe at the fresh juice seeping past the 
burning lips of Janie's slit, ran its tongue back to lick briefly at her 
asshole - and turned away. 

"Darn you, anyhow!" Janie cried, running around to stand in front of the 
heifer again and mashing her mound against its nose. "Put it up inside me 
again, do you hear?" 

The heifer backed away, turned, and walked off. 

Janie looked after it, almost in tears. "Oh, you must be the meanest heifer 
that ever lived." The heifer lumbered over to the other side of the barn, 
lowed contentedly, and began to scratch its back against the wall. 

She reached down, fingered her juicy little slit for a moment, then sighed 
and reluctantly turned to leave. Maybe, a little later, she'd be able to 
treat her pussy to a proper frigging. But right now, she had to do the 
chores. 

When Janie had finished her outside work, she went back into the cabin to 
fry some mush for her and Billy's breakfast. Pa was still sprawled on his 
cot, and Burt Connor was still lying on the floor with his head under the 
table. As Janie walked past Pa on her way to the cookstove, she noticed the 
big, long bulge in his drawers, and she quickly looked away. Just the 
thought of Pa's shoving that hideous thing up her rectum scared her 
spitless. It would either kill her or ruin her for life, she knew, one or 
the other, and she felt her asshole begin to tighten defensively. 

She worked very quietly, anxious not to wake Pa, the only sound the soft 
sizzle of the mush in the grease. Leaving half the mush in the pan for 
Billy, she put the rest of it on a plate and went out to the front yard, 
where everything didn't smell of sweat and whiskey. 

She was sitting on the stump near the well, finishing the last of her 
breakfast, when she saw Sheriff Orv Loonsey's cruiser approaching. What now? 
she wondered. 

The cruiser came slowly up the lane and rolled to a stop in the yard. The 
sheriff got out on one side, and a gaunt, slack-faced old man with a matted 
gray beard got out on the other. 

"Jud Slathers!" Janie heard herself say out loud, as she stared at the man 
she was supposed to marry come Saturday. "What in the world is he doing here 
with the sheriff?" 

"Well, howdy, Janie June," the sheriff said as he walked up. "Say hello to 
the bridegroom, Janie." 

"Humphf," Janie said, and turned up her nose, ignoring Jud completely. 

"You'll be wanting to see Pa, I guess." 

"Why, yes," the sheriff said. "If he's handy." 

She got to her feet. "I'll fetch him," she said. 

"You don't have to, little sweetheart," Slathers said. "Yonder he comes 
now." 

Janie glanced toward the cabin. Pa was coming down the steps of the porch, 
heisting up the straps of his overalls. 

"I reckon he must've heard us come up," the sheriff said, smiling, as he 
forced his eyes away from Janie's breasts. "Howdy, Elmore." 

"Howdy, Orv," Pa said. "Morning, Jud. What brings you out this way, Orv?" 

"There was three convicts busted loose from a prison truck in Chattanooga 
last night," the sheriff said. "Got loose and stole a car and got clean 
away." 

"Oh, yeah," Pa said. "Yeah. I heard about it on the radio." 

"They're bad customers," the sheriff said. "All three of them. They was all 
doing life for murder. They was seen coming this way. The car they stole in 
Chattanooga was a new white Ford. You seen any cars like that go by anywhere 
around here?" 

"No," Pa said. "But then, I ain't been out of the house all morning." He 
looked over at Janie. "You been out and around. You see any such car as 
that?" 

"No, Pa," Janie said. 

"What we figure is, they've come up here in the hills to hole up for a 
while," the sheriff said, stealing another look at Janie's breasts. "I've 
been going around, asking folks to be on the lookout. Them's dangerous men, 
and I mean to get them." He glanced at Jud Slathers. "When I went by Jud's 
place, he wanted to come along over here with me and pay his respects to 
Janie June." 

"Well, now!" Pa said. "That's right thoughtful of you, Jud. Janie's a lucky 
girl." 

"That's for damn sure," Jud said, lofting another stream of tobacco juice at 
the stinkweed. 

Janie sat watching the sheriff talking with Pa and continued ignoring Jud 
Slathers. 

"And them convicts ain't the only bad actors on the prowl around these 
parts," the sheriff was saying. "You happen to hear about that robbery and 
kidnapping down in Chattanooga last night, Elmore? Somebody stole thirty 
thousand dollars out of Duke Mahannah's safe and hauled him off somewhere." 

"Well, one of my deputies just told me on the radio he'd run into Mahannah's 
brothers. Stopped them for speeding, down by Mungerton. Vince and Ed, their 
names are. They had Duke's wife with them on the trail of whoever kidnapped 
Duke." 

"Do tell," Pa said, tilting snuff into his lower lip. "Well, they're a far 
piece from home. What makes them think the kidnappers brung him up here, 
anyhow?" 

"They got some kind of a clue, the deputy says. Just what, we don't know. 
They don't do a whole lot of talking, them boys. As best he could piece it 
out, they mean to settle things personal. They ain't the kind to go to the 
law for help, and that's for sure. They'd just as soon kill a man as look at 
him, and maybe a little sooner. What they'll do to them kidnappers is just 
plain pitiful." 

"Funny they'd bring a woman along, though, ain't it?" Pa said. 

"Not if she's as much a wildcat as I hear tell she is," the sheriff said, 
casting a sidelong glance at Janie's legs. "They say Duke's wife is twice as 
tough as Vince and Ed put together." 

"That's a fact," Jud Slathers said. "I've heard that said, myself." He 
splashed the stinkweed plant again and grinned over at Janie. "Hey, there, 
little sweetheart! What're you looking so down in the mouth about?" 

Janie looked away from him, biting her lips. It was beginning to look like 
she wasn't going to get that money after all, doggone it! Just a few minutes 
ago, she'd been scared the sheriff had come out after it. And then, when 
she'd found out he hadn't, and had begun to breathe easy again, she'd found 
out poor Mr. Duke Mahannah's brothers were on their way to do the same 
thing. It looked like the devil was just bound and determined that she 
wasn't going to get to run away. 

"I say, what makes your mouth look so sad, Janie June?" Slathers said, 
walking over to her. "For a girl about to marry the richest man on the 
mountain, you sure -" 

"Oh, shut up!" Janie said. "You awful old man- go away!" 

"Hoo!" Slathers said. "You hear that boys?" She's sure got a pile of sass. 
ain't she?" 

"She's going to get a strapping, is what," Pa said, glaring at her. "You 
talk more respectful to Mr. Slathers, girl. You hear me?" 

"Mind you don't strap her too hard," Jud said. "I don't want me no 
purple-bottomed wife on my honeymoon, Elmore. If they's one thing I can't 
stand, it's a woman with a bruised butt." 

"She'll be lucky to have any butt left," Pa said. 

"Ah, now, Elmore," the sheriff said. "She's just nervous about the marrying. 
All brides are." 

"Give Mr. Slathers a little kiss," Pa said. "To show him you was only 
funning." 

"Why, sure, Janie June," Jud said, stepping close to her. "Give us a little 
sample of what -" 

"No!" Janie said. 

"What?" Pa roared. "You defying me, girl?" 

"No, but I just can't -" 

"Go get the strap and wait for me in the barn," Pa said. 

"Please, Pa!" Janie cried. I -" 

"What're you waiting for, girl?" Pa said. "Get your hind end on out in that 
barn." 

Janie got up and started off, her eyes blurred with tears. 

"I surely apologize for her, Jud," Pa said. "I'll make her sorry, don't 
worry." 

Jud laughed and walked off with the sheriff. 

When Janie went into the cabin to get the strap, she found Burt Connor 
peeking through the curtain at the cruiser, just now turning around in the 
lane. 

"What the hell's going on out there?" he said. His dark hair was stringing 
down over his face and his strong, square jaw was stained with beard. He 
looked even more hungover than Pa did. 

"Nothing," Janie said, brushing the tears from her eyes with the back of her 
hand. 

"Nothing?" That's a sheriff out there!" 

"He just wanted to warn Pa about some jailbirds." 

"What jailbirds?" 

"Some that got loose from somewhere. They were seen up around here." She 
took the strap down from its nail on the wall and turned toward the door. 

"What're you doing with that thing?" Hurt said. 

"Pa's going to use it on me." 

"He must be crazy," Burt said, aghast. "That thing would kill a horse." 

Janie carried the strap out to the barn and sat down on a keg to wait for 
Pa. This wasn't going to be one of the beatings that made her feel good 
afterward., she knew; it was going to be a holy terror. She listened to the 
sound of the cruiser dying away in the distance, and a few moments later Pa 
came in, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. 

She knew what to do. She got down on her hands and knees, pulled her skirt 
up over her back, and waited. 

Pa didn't say a word. He picked up the strap, slapped it against his palm a 
few times, and then came over to stand a little to one side of her, on a 
line with her hips. 

The strap whistled through the air and splatted against her buttocks. "I'll 
teach you, you little feist," Pa said, and brought the leather down again in 
exactly the same place. 

"Oh, Pa!" Janie cried. "Please, Pa!" 

"Don't you 'Please, Pa' me, damn you." He brought the strap searing across 
her hips at the point just above where they met her thighs. "You've defied 
me for the last time, girl." 

She began to whimper. "Pa, it hurts awful!" 

"What does?" he said. "Oh! You mean this." And he swung the strap twice in 
rapid succession. 

"God-Amighty, Pa!" she wailed. "You're killing me." 

"That's right," Pa said. "You told the truth for once." 

But she wasn't really, Janie realized. The truth was that Pa wasn't hitting 
her nearly as hard as she'd expected him to. In fact, he wasn't even hitting 
her as hard as he usually did. It hurt, all right, and the cheeks of her ass 
felt as if they were on fire, but it sure wasn't the whipping she'd been 
figuring on. 

And then a thought struck her, and she was sure she knew why Pa wasn't 
taking the hide off her. His heart just wasn't in it, was why. He was just 
going through the motions. He was so worried about those Mahannah boys 
coming after him that he couldn't rightly put his mind to anything else. 
Why, he was so worried he'd even forgot to inspect her cherry before he 
began to strap her! 

The strap slashed down again. And although Janie cried out for Pa's benefit, 
she had all she could do to keep from following the cry with a gasp of 
pleasure. Golly, but it was good! Pa wasn't doing it hard at all. If only 
he'd keep on doing it just like this, he'd have her coming all over the 
place. She was already so horny that she could feel juice dripping from her 
twitching cunt, and when she looked back between her legs, she saw that the 
blonde fur was saturated with it. "Oh Lord, Pa," she pleaded silently, 
"please don't stop!" 

But he did. He brought the strap stinging against her grateful flesh only 
six more times. He was aiming haphazardly now. One blow even missed her hips 
completely, and another caught her across her legs just above the backs of 
her knees. But the very last blow was much more rewarding- a wonderfully 
biting slash on a direct line with her anus that brought her to the very 
edge of orgasm. 

Just once more, Pa, she prayed to herself. Just one more time like that, Pa! 

From the corner of her eye, she could see Pa start to swing the strap again. 
Then suddenly he lowered it and turned away. "I reckon that'll hold you till 
suppertime, at least," he said absently, and strode off toward the door, his 
face clouded with thought. 

Janie watched him go, so disappointed she could have cried. Doggone those 
Mahannah brothers, anyhow, she thought as she got to her feet and put both 
hands behind her to feel the burning globes of her ass. If Pa hadn't been so 
all-fired worried about them, he'd of strapped her tail until the cows came 
home. 

Squeezing a tender buttock hard with one hand, she reached down with the 
other and raked splayed fingers through the drenched little curls between 
her legs. 

One thing was sure: she was going to have to get some relief - and get it in 
a hurry. And it was going to take more than just her fingers this time. She 
was going to have to use that rubber prick she'd hidden up in the hayloft. 

The thought of the rubber prick excited her, but it frightened her too. She 
hadn't used it often, because she'd been afraid she'd get too carried away. 
It made her feel so good she was always scared she'd forget herself and jam 
it up her so hard she'd break her cherry. And if she did that, Pa would skin 
her alive. But the way her pussy was throbbing right now, nothing else was 
going to satisfy her. It was risky, all right, but she'd just have to take a 
chance. It was either that or have her cunt drive her crazy. 

 Chapter Four 

Janie hurried over to the ladder that led to the hayloft and started up it, 
climbing two rungs at a time, remembering the, afternoon she'd found the 
rubber prick in the trash over at the Shanley place. Every year, somebody 
from the city would rent the Shanley place for the summer. And every fall, 
when they left, Janie would go over to see what they'd left behind. 

Usually she found very little, and hardly ever anything of real value. But 
last fall, when those two young schoolmarms from Nashville had moved out, 
she'd found some things that she'd had to look at twice before she could 
believe her eyes. 

There'd been a book with drawings of naked men and women in it, doing all 
kinds of things to one another, and a lot of advice about the best ways for 
people to make other people happy. But what had fascinated Janie most - 
before she found the rubber prick - was a sheaf of glossy snapshots of naked 
girls with their legs spread so you could see their pussy. Some of the girls 
had been holding it apart, so you could see it better, and some had put 
their fingers up inside it. One girl - who'd looked to be no older than 
Janie - had been eating a banana with one hand and pushing another banana 
into her slit with the other. 

Then, at the very bottom of the trash heap, Janie had found the rubber prick 
- pink-white, with a red glans. 

At first, she'd stared at it with disbelief, sure that her eyes were playing 
her false. Could such a thing really be? she'd wondered. 

She'd hesitated for a moment, then picked it up and brushed the dust off it 
with the hem of her skirt, marveling at it, turning it this way and that. 

Yes, it was a prick, all right. It was about eight inches long and an inch 
and a half wide, with a knob on one end shaped like a small turnip. There 
was even a little eye in the knob, and when she squeezed the smooth, firm 
shaft, it gave a little beneath the pressure of her fingers, just the way 
she'd always imagined a real prick would do. 

Except that it was smaller, it looked exactly like the prick she'd seen Roy 
Wilson take out of his pants when he had to pee and thought nobody was 
watching. 

I wish it was Roy's prick, she'd thought, squeezing the rubber shaft as hard 
as she could. I wish I had his prick in my hand, by golly! 

Then she noticed that the rubber object had a faint aroma, and she brought 
it to her nose and sniffed at it. 

Why, that smells like a girl! she thought. It smells just like I do, when I 
get all hot and bothered. 

Why should a man's prick, even a make-believe one like this, smell like a 
girl's cunt? And then, suddenly, she had realized what the prick had been 
intended for, and why it smelled the way it did. 

"Those schoolmarms were pleasuring themselves with it!" she'd said aloud. 
"That's why it smells that way." She'd sniffed at it again. "And they must 
have been doing it day and night, too. Their smell's still on it, strong as 
can be." 

She'd sat down on a rock by the rubbish heap and pushed the head of the 
prick between the lips of her cunt and moved it around experimentally, 
working the blunt cone of the knob back hard against her cherry. 

It had driven her wild, and she had come so many times that afternoon that 
she had lost track. 

Now, as she took the rubber prick from its hiding place behind the loose 
plank in the hayloft, she was so eager to frig herself with it that she 
fumbled and dropped it in the hay. She recovered it quickly, went over to 
where the hay was thickest, took off her dress, and lay down on her back. 

Now that she was ready, she teased herself for a few moments, tracing the 
velvet-smooth head of the prick back and forth in the horny sweat that had 
begun to lave her belly, becoming more excited by the second. Then she 
raised the sweat-wet knob to her breasts and rubbed each quickening tip in 
turn, watching the dew begin to seep from the dents in the ends of her 
nipples. 

When her nipples had swollen to twice their normal size, she drew the prick 
slowly down her body to the top of her slit. She left it there for a while, 
teasing herself again, then rubbed it slowly, tantalizingly, down the 
slippery lips, brushing them without parting them, until the moist knob came 
to rest against the button of her anus. 

She raised her knees a little higher, tickling the glans of the prick 
against her asshole, feeling the spasming in her rectum as the ridged rim of 
her anus began to open and pout out against the now dripping rubber knob 
that caressed it. Then, placing her hands flat against the sides of the 
shank and rolling it between her palms, Janie pushed the glans hard against 
the ever-widening mouth of her anus and rotated it until she suddenly began 
to shake so much that she couldn't keep it in its oily socket. 

She paused until she had control of herself, then moved the glans up to her 
slit and began to move it slowly in and out between the puffy lips, sinking 
it all the way to her cherry, listening to the tiny, wet, sucking sounds it 
made each time she drew it back up to the level of her lips. 

As always when she was frigging herself, she began to think about Roy 
Wilson. "Oh, but that's so good!" She ground the glans against the membrane 
of her cherry. "Oh, if that was only Roy's prick down there." 

Moaning, rolling her hips, she lay the prick lengthwise in her gap, forcing 
it down between her lips so that they pressed against it on either side, the 
firm rubber buried in membrane the entire length of her slit, the big knob 
extending beyond it to rest against the tiny, pulsing anal button. Slowly at 
first, then faster and faster, raising and lowering her hips in rhythm with 
the movement of her hand, she rubbed the prick back and forth in her 
flooding crevice, dragging the glans firmly all the way up to her clitoris 
with each upward stroke, and pushing the other end of the prick down to her 
anus when she moved it in the other direction. 

The perfume from her pussy was filling her nostrils now, rich and wonderful, 
and she closed her eyes and sniffed the exciting scent greedily. It was so 
strong she could almost taste it. 

By golly, she thought, I will taste it! And she took the prick from her 
pussy and brought it back to her mouth. Then Janie grasped the prick and put 
it back in her lathery slit and worked away, jabbing it from side to side. 

She came and came and came, until she was exhausted and weak. Slowly she put 
her dress back on and started to go back outside the barn. All the while she 
had the funniest feeling that someone was watching. 

 Chapter Five 

When Janie stepped off the bottom rung of the ladder, she happened to glance 
in the direction of Pa's pickup truck, and then hurried over to it. The door 
on the driver's side was ajar, although only a short time ago it had been 
shut and locked. Has Pa or Bun taken the money out of the truck? she 
wondered. That is, saying it was ever hidden there in the first place? But 
it had been hidden there, she was sure. Otherwise, why would the doors have 
been locked? 

She peered out into the barnyard, to make sure no one was approaching, then 
climbed up into the cab and looked on the floorboard. There was nothing 
there except a few empty moonshine jars and the jack handle Pa carried in 
case of arguments. 

Although it was almost too heavy for her, she finally managed to raise the 
seat up high enough to look beneath it. There was only Pa's tool kit and 
tire chains and the other things that had always been there. 

She got out, left the door ajar exactly as she had found it, and stood 
thinking for a moment. Then she walked down one side of the barn and back 
the other, looking in each stall and feed bin. 

Nothing. 

She heard a series of dull thuds outside so she'd have to put off a more 
careful search of the barn till later. 

And besides, she really ought to go down to the spring and bathe. She'd 
gotten all sweaty and sticky pleasuring herself with that rubber prick, and 
the dried cunt juice on her pussy and thighs was beginning to feel a little 
unpleasant. 

But first she wanted to see if anyone was in the cabin. If no one was 
around, she'd have time for a quick search of the front room. At the very 
least, she'd have time to look in the suitcase under Pa's cot. 

In the cabin, she made sure Billy wasn't in the back room, then went 
immediately to the suitcase and pulled it out far enough to open it. It was 
completely empty. 

She pushed the suitcase back beneath the cot, and then noticed a dozen or so 
flat pint whiskey bottles in a heap at the far end of the cot. They hadn't 
been there the last time she was in the room; she was certain of it. Pa 
never used such bottles, although she could remember seeing some of them 
around a long time ago. She looked at the mound of bottles, frowning 
thoughtfully. It was all very strange. 

Then she remembered the loose board in the floor back by the cookstove. But 
when she raised the board, there was nothing beneath it. And none of the 
knotholes in the planking was really big enough to shove anything down 
inside, she decided. 

"I've just got to find it," she told herself, sweeping the room with her 
eyes, trying to discover a possible hiding place. "I've just got to!" She 
thought about the way old Jud Slathers always wanted to kiss her - and how, 
come the marrying, she'd have to let him-and felt her stomach turn over. And 
even before the marrying, of course, Pa was sure as anything going to tear 
her apart with his big monster of a prick. "Oh, Lord," she said, raising her 
eyes toward the tarpaper ceiling "please let me find it before Pa ruins me 
or I have to marry Jud Slathers. Please, Lord! I'll be beholden to You as 
long as I live." 

Then she heard Pa's voice just outside, and she ran back to her room and 
closed the door behind her. 

"I still don't know what you was doing out by the barn," Pa was saying as he 
came in. "There ain't nothing interesting in that truck, Burt." 

"Hell, I know that," Burl's voice said. "I was just looking around, I told 
you. Just killing time." 

"You sure you wasn't looking around for Janie June?" 

"Me? What the hell for?" 

"You know what for. But what you might not know is how dead you'll get if 
you try pronging her. That cherry she's toting around is worth five thousand 
dollars to me, Burt." 

"Yeah. You told me last night." 

"I mean to collect it, too. So keep your hands in your pockets and your 
pecker in your pants." 

"You got no cause to fret on that point, Elmore." 

"I better not have," Pa said. "I wonder where the hell she is, anyhow?" 

"Beats me," Burt said. "I haven't seen her since she came in to get the 
strap." 

Janie walked over to her cot, careful not to make the floor creak, and sat 
down. She really ought to work on her running-away dress while she had a 
chance, but she just didn't feel like it. It was not being able to find the 
money, and now she was beginning to be very nervous about it. She'd been so 
sure it would be in either the suitcase or the truck, but it hadn't been, 
and no matter how hard she thought about it, she couldn't think of any other 
place it could be. 

" ... reason I was looking for you was to tell you we've got ourselves a 
problem," Pa was saying. 

"That sheriff, you mean?" Burt said. "I saw his damn cruiser from the 
window." 

"No," Pa said. "Why're you shaking so much? If you want some whiskey in that 
glass, hold it still." 

"I had too much last night," Burt said. "That's why I'm shaking." He 
laughed. "But fill it up." 

"You ain't going to be laughing when I tell you what Orv Loonsey said. 
That's the sheriff you saw." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah. And you ain't going to be hard-pronged for Janie June, either." 

"What're you getting at, Elmore?" 

"You just might recollect Duke Mahannah had a couple of brothers." 

"Sure. Vince and Ed. What about them?" 

"Well, those gents are on our trail." 

"What?" 

"You heard me. They was seen down by Mungerton, which is just about four 
whoops and a holler from here. And they got Duke's widow with them, too. 
She's the one used to dance buck naked at the Elks' smokers and-" 

"To hell with her. What about Vince and Ed?" 

"Orv's deputy stopped them for something or other. The gist seems to be that 
they're aiming to settle our hash. Of course, the deputy didn't know who 
they was talking about. He said they had some kind of clue to the bastards 
that did Duke so dirty - meaning you and me." 

"Nobody could have recognized us. We had those stockings over our -" 

"There's only one thing it could be," Pa said. "The license number on the 
truck." 

"Come on!" 

"It's the only answer, Burt. Somebody saw that truck when we was leaving, 
and got suspicious. Hell, for all we know, they might even of saw us putting 
the body in it." 

"Why wouldn't they have told the law? Why tell the Mahannahs?" 

"Because it was one of Duke's outfit that saw it, is why," Pa said. "And you 
know damn well they wouldn't be calling in no law." 

"But even if that's what happened, they still wouldn't know who the license 
number belonged to." 

"No, they wouldn't," Pa said. "Not for about an hour. That's how long it 
would take them to get some politician to find out for them. Hell fire, 
Burt, half Duke's boys are politicians already. You know that." 

"My God," Hurt said. 

"So you and me are likely to have some right lively company," Pa said. 
"Which means we'll want to welcome them proper. How're you with a rifle, 
Burt?" 

"No damn good," Burt said. 

"Well, then you'll have to use my shotgun," Pa said. "You know how?" 

"I've never fired anything but a hand gun," Burt said. "Like last night. I 
was always more of a knife man, myself." 

"Well, hand guns ain't going to get it," Pa said. "Not with them Mahannahs. 
They've got them too, and they're a damn sight better with them than we are. 
What's called for is something with some range. It looks like you're going 
to have to learn to use a shotgun, Burt." 

"Hell, I'm willing. When do we start?" 

"Right now. We'll go off down by the north forty," Pa said. "That way, we 
won't go scaring hell out of the chickens and such." 

"How about that pile of flat pints over there by the cot?" Burt said. "We 
could use them for targets." 

"We'll find something else," Pa said. "I been saving them fancy bottles for 
Janie June's wedding. I'm going to have her fill them up with my best 
'shine, and pass them out to the wedding guests." 

"A nice touch," Burt said. 

"I kind of like it, myself," Pa said. "Well, let's get going, Burt. Just 
ease that shotgun off the wall there, and we'll have us a little practice." 

"We'll take along a jar of whiskey, all right?" Burt said. 

"Why, sure," Pa said. "In fact, we'll take two. I've been known to take a 
drink myself, don't forget." 

Janie sat very still, listening to the front door open and shut, thinking 
about the way Burt Connor had probably been watching her with the rubber 
prick in the hayloft. He was sure a strange man, she decided; she couldn't 
figure out just what to make of him. But he was sure scared now, she knew. 
She'd sensed that in his voice when Pa had told him about the Mahannahs. But 
Pa wasn't scared a bit. He'd never been scared of anything or anybody. In 
fact, he was probably hoping the Mahannas would show up, just so he could 
kill them. 

But what if they killed Pa and Burt instead? She started shaking again. If 
they killed Pa and Burt, they'd get the money ... her money ... Then a new 
and terrifying thought came to her, and she jumped to her feet with a cry. 
If they killed Pa and Burt, they'd kill her too, to keep her from ever 
saying anything! 

She just had to find that money! That's all there was to it! And she had to 
find it before the Mahannahs got here! She wanted very much to go to the 
spring and wash the dried cunt juice from her legs and pussy, but that would 
just have to wait for a while. 

She ran into the front room and searched it again, even looking in the same 
places she'd looked before. She searched it from wall to wall, looking under 
and behind every object, steeling her nerve to reach down into every rat 
hole, looking through the bedclothes on the two cots-looking everywhere. 

When she was satisfied the money was not in the cabin, she went out on the 
porch and looked there. She was perspiring profusely now, and her dress 
molded her breasts and torso like still-wet pink paint, the dark cones of 
her nipples seemingly on the verge of punching through the thin cloth. 

She looked under the steps, and then under the porch itself. Then she 
followed the path all the way to the lane and back again, searching the 
weeds on either side. She looked beneath and all around the stile. 

But she found nothing. 

And as usual, all that exercise-the rapid movement of her thighs one against 
the other - had made her horny again. She stepped close to the stile, so she 
would be shielded from view from the front, and put her hand between her 
legs. Sure enough, she was streaming. 

She took her hand off her pussy and looked at her dripping fingers, and for 
a moment she was tempted to go back to her room and relieve herself. 

But no, she decided-she just didn't have time. Not with those Mahannahs on 
the way to kill Pa and Burt and take back Mahannah's money. She'd go to the 
spring and bathe herself and put out the fire in her pussy at the same time. 
And then she'd start looking for the money again. Maybe Pa and Burt had left 
it somewhere along the road that led up to the lane .. 

She ran all the way to the spring. Without removing her dress - since it 
needed cleansing too - she stood under the spring for a few moments, then 
sat down in the stream and spread her legs wide so that the rushing current 
could bathe her pussy inside and out. But of course the nibble of the water 
against the membrane of her cunt felt so good that fresh juice kept rushing 
down to replace the juice that was washed away. 

She didn't stay long. When she stepped out of the stream, she took off her 
dress, squeezed as much water from it as she could, and put it back on 
again, knowing it would dry on her body before she got home. 

She was crossing the road through the trees when she heard the car engine. 
It was so quiet she thought it must be a quarter mile away. But when she 
glanced in the direction of the sound, she discovered to her amazement that 
the car was less than fifty yards away. It was an enormous car, shiny-black 
as wet coal, obviously a rich man's car, moving toward her without a single 
sound except the soft, quiet thrum of the engine. 

She stopped in the middle of the road, pleased. It must be Rosanne's car, 
she thought to herself. Nobody but Rosanne and Pa had come along here for as 
long as she could remember. She smiled and waved. Rosanne must have come 
back in the hope of seeing her again. 

But when the car drew to a stop, she realized she'd been mistaken. There 
were three people in the front seat-two men and a woman-and for several 
seconds they sat staring at her through the windshield without any 
expression at all. 

Then the man on the passenger's side leaned out the window and beckoned to 
her. "Come here," he said. He was middle-aged, she saw, with shaggy black 
brows and two gold teeth. 

"What do you want?" she said. 

The man smiled, revealing two more gold teeth, further back in his mouth. He 
had a heavy, beard-stained jaw and very thin lips. "We're just trying to 
find our way," he said in a hoarse voice. 

Janie walked over to the car. The woman sitting between the two men was 
about twenty, Janie guessed - a very pretty redhead with dark-green eyes and 
full red lips. She was sitting with her legs crossed, but her skirt was so 
short that Janie could see a tiny vee of red pussy hair. 

The man behind the wheel looked very much like the other man except that he 
was younger and had no gold teeth. 

"You fall in the water somewhere?" the man with the gold teeth said, 
smiling, as he ran his eyes up and down Janie's body. "You're soaking wet." 

"No, sir," Janie said. "I got in the water intentional." - "Intentional?" 
the man said, his smile widening. "You hear that, Vince? She did it 
intentional." 

"Knock if off, Ed," the younger man said, frowning. 

The woman was still looking straight ahead through the windshield, twisting 
a ring around and around on her finger. 

Janie felt as if her legs were turning to rubber. Ed and Vince! She was 
looking straight at the Mahannah brothers! And that redheaded woman was Duke 
Mahannah's wife! 

"What you looking so scared about, honey?" Ed Mahannah said, the sun 
glinting on his gold teeth. "You think I'm going to bite you, or what?" 

"I said knock it off," Vince Mahannah said. "Ask her, why don't you?" 

"You live around here?" 

"Of course she lives around here," the woman said, still without looking at 
Janie. "You think she's a summer tourist?" 

"No," Janie said. "Not close around here, anyhow." 

"We're looking for a gentleman named Mr. Elmore Hibbins," Ed said, his eyes 
on Janie's breasts. "He's a real good friend of ours, you see. We were in 
the neighborhood, and we thought we'd look him up." 

"And surprise him," the woman said. 

"Yes," Ed said. "And surprise him. You know where he lives?" 

"What was the name?" 

"Elmore Hibbins. He's got a farm around here somewhere." 

Janie pursed her lips for a moment, then shook her head. "I never heard of 
anybody like that," she said. "There used to be a man named Higgins, though. 
He lived down the other side of -" 

"Hibbins," Ed said, his eyes narrowing a little as he studied Janie's face. 
"He's got an old green Ford pickup truck-if that jogs your memory any." 

"No, sir," Janie said. "I'd know if there was anybody around here like 
that." She shook her head again. "I'm sure sorry, but I just can't help 
you." 

"Listen," Ed said, lowering his voice a little. "We know he lives around 
here. See? We had a friend of ours in the license bureau look it up special, 
so we could drop in on him." 

"What the hell, Ed?" Vince said. "You're running your mouth too free again." 

"So what's the difference?" Ed said. 

"It's hot, just sitting here," the woman said. "Let's go." 

Ed opened the door and got out. "I'll just stretch my legs a minute," he 
said. "A long ride always cramps the hell out of my legs." Then, before 
Janie knew what was happening, he grabbed her around the waist with one arm, 
yanked open the rear door of the car with his free hand, and shoved her 
inside. 

"Now what?" Vince said, whirling around in the front seat. "You crazy or 
something, Ed?" 

"Lock the back doors from the front," Ed said, climbing in after Janie. "And 
drive over there behind the trees, so nobody'll see us from the road." 

"Moron," the woman said as the rear door locks clicked and the car turned 
off the road into the trees. "You're even wackier than Duke was, Ed. Did you 
know that?" 

"This little cunt's lying," Ed said. "She knows damn well where that 
sonofabitch lives. Anybody can see that. Even you, Sharon." 

"Well, so what if she does?" Sharon said. "What're you going to do about it? 
Twist her arm until she tells you?" 

"I'll do worse than that, by God," Ed said. "All right, kid. Where the 
hell's that rat live?" 

"Don't hurt me, Mr. Mahannah, sir," Janie said, cringing back into the 
corner of the seat. 

"You hear that, Vince?" Ed said. "She even knows who we are, for God's 
sake!" 

Both Vince and the woman turned around to stare at Janie, and now their 
faces were as hard as Ed's. 

"How'd you know that?" Vince said. 

"I heard the sheriff talking to my Pa this morning," Janie said. "He came 
around telling folks to watch out for you." 

"You're lying," Ed said, drawing back his fist. "You see this?" 

"Stop that, stupid," Sharon said. "Let her talk." 

"Yeah, Ed," Vince said. "Take it a little easy, will you?" 

"All right," Ed said. "Talk, then. And fast." 

"The sheriff just said he sure had his hands full," Janie said. "He said it 
was first one thing and then another. He said he'd no sooner heard those 
jailbirds was up in the hills here than he heard there were some other 
dangerous men up here too." 

Sharon laughed shortly. "I feel slighted," she said. 

"Oh, he said there was a beautiful lady, too," Janie said. "He said he 
figured you were all up to some kind of meanness, but he didn't know just 
what." 

"What else did he say?" Ed demanded. 

"Nothing," Janie said. 

"Nothing?" 

"Not that I heard," Janie said. "I only heard a little, while I was walking 
past him and Pa on my way to -" 

"You heard more than that." 

"No, I didn't. Honest." 

"Why'd you lie about not knowing where we could find that rat, Elmore 
Hibbins?" 

"He's a nice old man. I didn't want you to do him any meanness." She noticed 
that Ed was looking beneath her brief skirt, straight at her pussy. "Oh, 
please, Mr. Mahannah, sir. Please don't hurt that good old man." 

"Why, what gave you that idea?" Ed said. "We don't mean to hurt him at all, 
honey. We just mean to give him a talking-to." He put his hand on Janie's 
knee. "Where's he live?" 

"Will you promise not to hurt him?" 

"Well, we might hurt his feelings a little," Ed said, moving his hand slowly 
up Janie's leg. "But we sure won't do him any bodily harm. Right, Vince?" 

"That's right," Vince said. "We just want to give him a stern lecture, 
miss." 

"For his own good," Sharon said. "Tell us where we can find him, darling." 

"Well," Janie said, "you follow that road back there on down the mountain 
about four miles. You'll come to a crossroads, but you keep straight on past 
it for about half a mile. There's a dirt road cuts off to the right. Mr. 
Hibbins lives down that, maybe a mile." 

"That's quite a ways," Ed said. "We figured it was right around here 
somewhere." 

"He lives where I told you," Janie said. "I've known him all my life. He and 
my pa used to go coon hunting together almost every night in the week." 

"Well, don't you worry yourself about it," Ed said, running his hand up 
Janie's thigh until the tips of his fingers brushed against her pussy. "Like 
I say, we're just going to give him a little straight talk." 

"Don't do that," Janie said, trying to draw back further into the corner. 
"With your hand, I mean." 

"Why not?" Ed said. "It's pretty enjoyable, if you ask me." He slipped a 
fingertip into Janie's slit. "Wow! You've got a little furnace in there." 

Vince and Sharon were both still turned around in the front seat, watching 
them. "Some family I married into," Sharon said, glancing at Vince. "Here 
his brother's not even cold yet, and he's got to go around feeling up little 
schoolgirls." 

Janie tried to push Ed's hand away, but he snaked his left arm around her, 
pinioning her own arms, and pushed his finger up her all the way to her 
cherry. 

"It's not possible," he said incredulously. "It just can't be." 

"What?" Vince said. 

"The kid's a virgin," Ed said. "At least I think so. It's the first time in 
my life I ever came across one." 

"Well, leave her that way, and let's get on with our business," Vince said. 
But he was staring hard at Ed's probing finger, and he made no move to turn 
back to the steering wheel. 

Sharon, too, was watching the movement of Ed's linger with great interest. 
She moistened her lips. 

"Are you sure, Ed?" 

"Hell, yes," Ed said. "It's like a little drumhead in there." 

"Are you really a virgin, darling?" Sharon said. 

"Yes," Janie said, trying unsuccessfully to twist away from Ed again. 
"Please stop, Mr. Mahannah, sir." 

"Stop, hell," Ed said, rolling her clitoris back and forth beneath the ball 
of his thumb. "How old are you, honey?" 

"Fif ... fifteen," Janie said. "Oh, please, Mr. Mahannah!" 

"Fifteen, and you're still a virgin?" Sharon said, eyes widening. 
"Unbelievable." 

"Well, she's not going to make it to sixteen" Ed said, reaching down to 
unzip his fly. "Your days of being a virgin are over, honey. As of now." 

"For God's sake, Ed," Vince said. "What's the matter with you? We've got 
some killing to do. Or had you forgot?" 

"It'll wait," Ed said, and suddenly his cock was out of his pants and 
standing straight up, so hard it seemed to be vibrating. 

Janie took one look at it, then gasped and closed her eyes. It was even 
bigger than Roy Wilson's, she saw to her horror. In fact, it was almost as 
big as Pa's! 

"Oh, don't," she wailed. "Oh, please, Mr. Mahannah, don't put that thing -" 

"Just you relax now," Ed said, pulling her toward him so that she slid down 
on her back. "You put up a fight and I'll knock your teeth in. You keep on 
fighting and I'll snap your neck like a chicken bone." 

"I never realized you were so well hung, Ed," Sharon said admiringly. "How 
come you never let me in on that fact before?" 

"Ed, for God's sake," Vince said again. But he had turned all the way around 
in the seat now, his arms on the back, watching avidly. 

"So just spread those pretty legs and enjoy yourself," Ed said. "After a 
couple minutes, you'll be hoping I never stop." 

Janie tried to cross her legs, but Ed pried them apart again. Then he was 
over her, almost crushing her, and she felt the glans of his penis forcing 
its way between the lips of her pussy, moving slowly back to mash against 
her cherry. 

"Oh, no, Mr. Mahannah," she said. "Oh, please, no! Pa will kill me. He 
inspects me every day, and he ..." 

"Quiet," Ed said, increasing the pressure of his glans against her tender 
membrane. 

"Oh, it hurts!" Janie cried. 

"Quiet, I said," Ed grated. 

"Janie felt something tear. There was a searing burst of pain in her pussy 
where her ruptured cherry had been, followed at once by an even greater pain 
as Ed's big cock forced open the tight walls of her vagina in its headlong 
plunge to her womb. Janie felt something hot and sticky-much hotter and 
stickier than love juice - welling out of her cunt, and she screamed. 

"You broke it, Mr. Mahannah!" she cried. "You broke my cherry!" 

"Damn well told," Ed said, forcing the last inch of his shaft inside her and 
grinding his wiry black pubic hair hard against the golden silk of her 
mound. 

"I'm bleeding!" Janie said, beginning to whimper. 

"Well, naturally, darling," Sharon said, her voice tight with excitement. 
"What else?" 

"You're sure playing hell with that upholstery, Ed," Vince said. "She was 
dripping wet to begin with - and now look. All we need is for you to plaster 
one of your usual big wads all over it." 

"Screw you," Ed said, drawing his cock almost out of Janie's vagina and then 
shoving it all the way in again. "You're just jealous it isn't your prick in 
here." 

"Oh, Lord!" Janie said. "Oh, Mr. Mahannah, please don't do it any more. It's 
tearing my insides out." 

"You know, this is really something to see," Sharon said, her face flushed. 
"I think I could get my jollies, just watching it. Does it really still 
hurt, darling?" she said hopefully. 

"Oh, yes, ma'am," Janie said. "It hurts awful." 

"Really?" Sharon said delightedly. "It really does?" 

"Stop that damn yakking, slut," Ed said. "Didn't you ever see anybody get 
raped before?" 

"No," Sharon said. "Sorry to say." 

"Oh, please!" Janie said. 

"This is beginning to get me pretty worked up, Ed," Vince said. "It reminds 
me of when you and I were kids. You remember that time we cornered that 
little Betty Campbell in the bushes behind the grade school?" 

"You shut up, too," Ed said. "And besides, it wasn't Betty Campbell. It was 
her sister Susie." 

"Yeah, you're right. It was Susie." 

"Raise your left leg up a little more, will you, darling?" Sharon said. "I 
can't see -" 

"Both of you shut up, damn it," Ed said, increasing the speed of his 
thrusts. "I'm going to be coming any second now." 

"Aw, hell," Sharon said. "Can't you hold off just a little longer, Ed?" 

Ed grunted, and pumped his prick into Janie's pussy so hard the car began to 
rock. 

Janie lay with her eyes shut, her lower lip caught between her teeth. 
Something very strange was happening. There was still some pain, but very 
little, and there was less of it with every stroke. And now, in back of the 
pain and slowly replacing it, she could feel the first stirrings of 
pleasure. The hard hot meat choking her pussy from lips to womb was 
beginning to feel good! 

"Oh, my goodness ... " she breathed. 

"You hear that?" Ed said. "She likes it, by God!" 

"Who could blame her?" Sharon said. "That whanger of yours is the kind of 
cock most little girls can only dream of." 

Janie began to breathe very fast, and suddenly she realized that she had 
crossed her ankles behind Ed's back and was beginning to roll her hips on 
the seat. 

"Oh, my," she said, raising her pussy up as far as she could. "Oh, my, Mr. 
Mahannah!" 

"Here it comes!" Ed shouted. His body stiffened and trembled. "Now, now, 
now!" He arched his back so suddenly that Janie, impaled on his prick, was 
lifted six inches off the seat. "Now, by God!" 

Janie felt his hot come pouring out inside her, and she scissored her legs 
around the small of his back and hugged him to her with all her strength. 
The feel of his spurting discharge against the membrane of her vagina and 
womb triggered the well of her being, and she groaned with ecstasy as she 
began to come, feeling her own copious flow of juice descending to mingle 
with his. The sensation was so heavenly that she almost lost consciousness, 
coming again and again, rapidly, one time after another, biting at his 
shoulder in her frenzy to come even faster and harder. 

Then, to her dismay, she felt Ed withdraw his prick and start to move back 
from her. 

"Oh, please, Mr. Mahannah," she said. "Leave it in there!" 

Ed laughed shortly and zipped up his pants. "Open the doors back here," 
Vince," he said. 

The door locks clicked. "Out, kid," Ed said, pushing the door open. 

"But why, Mr. Mahannah?" Janie said, sitting up. 

"You heard me," he said. "Beat it." 

"Thanks, darling," Sharon said. 

"What?" Janie said. 

"For the show," Sharon said. "Too bad there can never be an encore. But 
losing a cherry is a one-time affair." 

"I said to get out," Ed said. 

Janie got out, and Ed drew the door shut. 

"What if she tells?" Vince said. "Maybe we'd better invest a bullet." 

"You kidding?" Ed said. "These mountain girls never admit they've been 
raped. They know their folks would kill them. Hell, you heard her say so 
herself." 

"Just the same -" Vince began. 

Vince is right, Ed," Sharon said. "You could go to the pen for life. Better 
put a slug between her tits and make sure." 

"Forget it," Ed said. "What kind of manners is that - to give a kid her 
first fuck and then shoot her? You talk like a couple of yahoos. Move this 
car on out of here, Vince. We've got some important shooting to do." 

Janie wasn't able to take a full breath until the big black car was out of 
sight around the bend, where the road skirted the edge of the woods and 
almost doubled back on itself. The shock of her near brush with death had 
been bad enough, God knew, but the sudden realization that she had lost her 
cherry - something she had forgotten during those moments of orgasm - had 
left her almost too weak to stand. 

She would be killed now, she knew-strapped to a bloody pulp. And that event 
would take place the very next time Pa slipped a finger into her cunt and 
found nothing to impede it. 

She raised her skirt and looked down at the crimson evidence of what had 
happened to her in the back seat, then quickly flipped the skirt down again 
to hide it. 

Oh, Lord, she thought as she ran back down to the stream to wash the 
evidence away. I'm ruined! 

She cleansed herself quickly, thankful that there were no telltale stains on 
her dress, then started back toward the cabin, running as fast as she could. 
She had to warn Pa and Burt about the Mahannahs. Just as soon as the 
Mahannahs realized she'd sent them on a wild-goose chase, they'd be back. 
And when they got there, they'd have even more blood in their eye than 
they'd had when she met them. 

She was afraid to go anywhere near Pa for fear that he would inspect her. 
But she had to; if she didn't warn him and Burt, the Mahannahs would kill 
them both. Which meant she might never find the money. Pa and Burt had 
hidden it too well - so well that, if they died, the knowledge of where the 
money was would die with them. 

She heard the first shot when she was within a few yards of the place where 
the road made a hairpin turn and started back in the other direction. It was 
Pa's rifle, she knew; she'd heard it so many hundred times she was certain 
of it. 

And now there were other shots - pistol shots - and the deep roar of a 
shotgun. Then there were so many shots that they blurred together for 
several seconds. Then there was a short silence, followed by two more rifle 
shots and a final roar of the shotgun. 

Janie knew what had happened. Pa had taken Burt out to practice with the 
shotgun and they had spotted the Mahannahs on the road. They'd probably seen 
them coming and laid for them in the brush beside the ruts. However it had 
happened, it was all over now, or there'd still be shooting. There'd be some 
dead people; that was sure. And it wouldn't be Pa and Burt, because their 
rifle and shotgun had been the last guns she heard. 

She ran through the trees until she came to the brush by the turn, and then 
bent over so that she would be less easily seen, and proceeded more slowly. 
When she came to a small opening in the brush, she stopped and pushed the 
leaves aside carefully to peer out. 

The Mahannahs' car, apparently, had skidded off the dirt road and turned 
halfway around in the weeds on the far side of it. Both the doors on the 
driver's side were open, and the engine was still running. 

Down the road, a few yards from the car, Pa and Burt were standing with 
their guns in the crook of their arm, each of them tilting up one of the 
whiskey jars they had taken with them. Midway between them and the car, Ed 
Mahannah lay on his back, his face a red mask, a revolver still clinched in 
his right hand. In front of the car, almost beneath the wheels, Vince lay 
facedown, the top of his head blown away. Sharon lay on her back in the 
grass between the ruts, one knee raised slightly, her skirt up around her 
waist. There was a seeping bullet hole just below and to the left of her 
navel, and a dark stain an inch beneath the lower slope of her left breast. 
Her arms were flung out to either side, and the forefinger of her right hand 
was caught in the trigger guard of a small automatic. 

"Well, Burt," Janie heard Pa say, "for a beginner, you done right well." 

"It was just luck," Burt said modestly, tilting his jar up again. 

"Maybe so," Pa said. "But you couldn't of taken that bastard's scalp off any 
slicker if you'd used a meat cleaver." 

"Well, that's nice of you to say, anyhow," Burt said. "One thing-we don't 
have to worry about the Mahannahs any more." 

"That's for certain," Pa said. "Kind of a shame about Duke's wife, though. 
She was a right fine-looking woman." He paused. "Still is, with her dress 
hiked up like that and all." 

"I don't know why it's a shame. She came out shooting just like the men 
did." 

"And shooting just as wild, too, thank the Lord," Pa said, starting toward 
the car. "Let's take a little closer peek at our handiwork." 

"What happens now?" Burt said. 

"Why, we take turns, I reckon," Pa said. "Maybe flip a coin to see who's 
first." 

"What?" Burt said. 

"You don't aim to let it go to waste, do you?" 

"What're you talking about?" 

"That fine piece of redheaded pussy yonder. Just look at it, will you?" 

"You serious, Elmore?" 

"Damn right. A man that'd pass up something like that would have to be a 
lunatic." 

"For God's sake, Elmore. You mean you're -?" 

"What the hell's the matter with you, Burt? You squeamish about pronging 
corpses or something?" 

Burt looked at him for a moment, then drank the last of his whiskey and 
tossed the jar into the weeds. "We've got to do something about the car and 
bodies," he said. 

"I already told you what I'm going to do about one of them bodies," Pa said, 
looking down at Sharon. "And that grass beneath her ain't going to grow a 
whole lot higher before I do it, too." 

"Hiding the bodies won't be too much of a problem," Burt said. "But what're 
we going to do with the car?" 

"We drive it off a cliff I know about," Pa said. "It'll end up two hundred 
yards straight down, in forty foot of water." He laughed. "With the Mahannah 
boys and this pretty red-haired thing inside it, of course." 

"You sure nobody will find them?" 

"I can double-guarantee you they won't. Hell, the only way you can get down 
there is to fall down." 

"Well, we'd better get them loaded in the car, then," Burt said. "Somebody 
might come along here." 

"You worry too much, Burt," Pa said, leaning over to put his rifle and 
whiskey jar on the ground. "We'll heave the men in, all right. But the 
little lady here is going to have to wait a spell. In fact, I don't see no 
point in heaving anybody in until afterwards." He began to unbuckle his 
belt, looking down at Sharon. "You ever see a prettier little red-haired 
pussy than that, Burt?" 

"Come on, Elmore," Burt said, laughing nervously. "You aren't really going 
to -?" 

"I ain't?" Pa said. "Well, you just watch me for a while, and then see what 
you think." 

In the brush by the side of the road, Janie shuddered and turned away. She 
moved off very slowly, careful to make no sound, watching for dried twigs 
that might snap beneath her foot and give her away. When she was well back 
into the woods, she walked faster, and finally she ran. 

She took the long way home, and she ran every foot of the way. It wasn't 
that she was in any hurry to reach the cabin. It was just that she wanted to 
get as far away as she could from the place where so many terrible things 
had happened-and were still happening. 

 Chapter Six 

When Janie got home, she went directly to her room to see whether Billy was 
there. She was just as sweaty as she'd been when she left for the spring, 
and she wanted to bathe at the pump. But first she had to make sure Billy 
wasn't around to see her. Pa had said a hundred times that if she ever let 
Billy see her naked, he'd strap her within an inch of her life. Billy had 
heard him too, and he was just mean enough to sneak up on her so he could 
tell Pa and get her strapped. 

But Billy wasn't in her room, or in the barn when she looked there, and so 
she went to the pump and drew a bucket of water. She carried the bucket and 
the gourd dipper over to the corner between the cabin wall and the lean-to 
shed built against it. Here, she was shielded from two directions, at least, 
and she could see for a considerable distance in the others, far enough to 
run inside before anyone got close enough to know what she was up to. 

She took off her dress, held her long blonde hair away from herself with one 
hand, and ladled the cool, clear water over her back and breasts and 
shoulders until the bucket was empty, shivering a little, frowning at the 
way the water caused her nipples to pucker and fade from red to pink, trying 
not to think about what had happened. 

When she had finished, she took the bucket and gourd back to the pump and, 
carrying her dress over her arm, hurried to her room. 

"Caught you," she heard Billy's voice say as she started around the blanket 
that divided her half of the room from his. "Caught you good this time, by 
God." 

"Why, you little devil!" Janie gasped, whipping the dress up in front of her 
to cover her nakedness. 

He had been standing just the other side of the door, with his shoulders 
flat against the wall, in the one place in the room where he knew she 
wouldn't see him when she came in. 

"Darn you, Billy!" she said. "You were just trying to trick me." 

"I wasn't just trying. I done it." 

"What makes you so mean, anyhow?" 

He grinned and moved away from the wall, his pinched, evil little face 
leering knowingly at her from beneath the tousled shock of whitish yellow 
hair. 

"I was spying on you from behind the corncrib," he said. "When you taken the 
bucket back to the pump, I run over to the porch before you could turn 
around again. I saw you the whole damn time." 

"You doggone little sneak," Janie said. "You're the meanest boy I ever saw." 

He spat through his teeth, hitched up the straps of his overalls, and spat 
again. "You're sure growed yourself a mighty fine pair of knockers, sis," he 
said. "If they stuck out any more, you couldn't see your feet." 

"You stop talking that way," Janie said. "You hear?" 

"Don't get so sassy," he said. "After last night, you got no call to get so 
feisty." 

"What do you mean 'after last night'?" 

"When you was wanting to suck my peter." 

"I didn't want to. You were begging me to." 

"You wanted to, all right. I could tell." 

"Well, what if I did? What's wrong with that?" 

"They ain't nothing wrong with it. It's just funny you'd want to suck my 
peter, and then get so all-fired riled just because I see you buck-ass naked 
behind the shed. It don't make sense." 

"Oh, shut up, Billy. What do you know about anything?" 

"Girls never make sense, nohow. Here I just got through seeing all you got. 
And now you're hiding it again, like I wasn't even supposed to know it was 
there. How much sense is there in that, for God's sake?" 

"You think you're pretty smart, don't you?" 

"I ain't as dumb as you, by God. And besides, what're you afraid of?" 

"You know what Pa said about you seeing me that way." 

"He ain't going to know unless I tell him." 

"You'll tell him, all right. You probably can't wait." 

"I won't either. Not if you let me see you up close like this." 

"No." 

"All right, then. I'll tell him soon as he comes home." 

"You said you weren't going to be mean to me any more." 

"I won't be mean if you ain't. And it'd be mean if you didn't let me see you 
up close." 

"You promise not to tell?" 

"Sure I do. I might be wanting to look at you again sometime." 

She lowered the dress and held it down to one side. "There," she said. "Take 
a good look, Billy." 

"Boy howdy," he said. "Damn if you ain't built to hell and gone." 

"You satisfied now?" 

"Hell, no," he said, staring at her pussy. "The more I look, the more I want 
to." 

"Well, you've seen enough for one time," she said, and walked around the 
blanket to her cot. She halfway expected him to follow her, but he didn't, 
and a moment later she heard him leave the room. 

She tossed her soiled dress into a corner, sat down on the side of the cot, 
and slipped a finger into her pussy, curious to see how it felt now that she 
no longer had a cherry. She'd expected the place where the cherry had been 
to smart a little. But it didn't. Not even when she frigged herself 
experimentally a few moments with first one and then two fingers. 

This ought to be one of the most thrilling times of her life, she reflected, 
as she pushed her fingers as far up herself as they would go. She felt 
cheated. What should have been such a happy time was spoiled by the certain 
knowledge of what would happen the next time Pa stuck his fingers up her. 

She played with herself another minute or so, trying to get herself into the 
mood to really masturbate. But it was no use. She couldn't keep from 
thinking about Pa and the strap, and her pistoning fingers pleasured her 
hardly at all. And for the first time she could remember, there was so 
little juice that it didn't even run out of her slit. In fact, it didn't 
much more than moisten her fingers. And as for her nipples, they were only 
half hard, and absolutely no juice had seeped from them at all. 

Finally, in disgust, she jumped up and got her running-away dress and began 
to work on it furiously, trying to get her mind off what was ahead for her. 

But she had had a trying night and morning, and soon she grew sleepy, and 
lay back to rest her eyes. 

She didn't realize she'd dozed off until she came awake to the sound of 
voices in the other room. It was Pa and Burt, and she could tell right away 
that they'd gotten themselves drunk all over again. 

There was the pound of a fist on the door. "Janie June!" Pa called. "Get 
yourself out here." 

"Yes, sir," she called back. It'll happen now, she thought as she hurried 
into her other, everyday dress. He'll inspect me, and it'll be all over. 

Pa and Burt were sitting at the table, both with whiskey jars in front of 
them, their faces flushed and slack with drink. 

"Get to cracking on that stove, girl," Pa said. "Burt and me's hungry as 
sin." 

"There isn't anything to cook," Janie said, starting for the front door. 
"I'll have to fetch something from the smokehouse." 

"No, you won't," Pa said, pointing to the stove. "I brung in a ham just now. 
Fry us up about half of it, and brown some taters. And don't take all day 
doing it, neither." 

"Yes, sir," Janie said. "I'll fix it faster than a cat can wink its eye." 

"You better," Pa said, raising his jar. "How's it feel to be a rich man, 
Burt?" 

"Right good," Burt said. "No, sir, I can't complain one bit." 

"And how's it feel to be the champion shotgun shooter of Tennessee?" 

"Shhh," Burt said, glancing at Janie. "Watch it, Elmore." 

Janie busied herself getting a fire started, then began to slice off huge 
slabs of ham for the big iron frying pan. The pan was eighteen inches 
across, and Pa had told her it had been in his family for more than a 
hundred years. The older a pan was the better, he said, because after eight 
or ten years the grease soaked all the way through the iron. 

As Janie sliced potatoes to spread around between the pieces of ham, she 
noticed that Burt was staring at the hem of her skirt. She didn't think much 
about it at first, since that was what men always did, but when she realized 
that he looked almost as much surprised as he did horny, she began to 
wonder. Could it be that the already too-short dress had shrunk even more 
than the last time she washed it? 

As she dropped pieces of potato into the pan, she reached down with her 
other hand, making it casual, to see just how short it was. 

It had shrunk by golly! Why, she could feel pussy hair beneath it! No wonder 
Burt was gawking at her. He could see the bottom part of her pussy, even 
when she was just standing there with her arms down at her sides. When she 
moved around, and raised her arms, he could see all of it. 

Oh, darn it all, anyway, she thought. That doggone dress is going to be the 
ruin of me. When Pa sees my pussy, it'll remind him he hasn't inspected me 
all day. And that will be the last of Janie June Hibbins. 

"Well, this here cabin may not be much," Pa was saying. "But it sure beats 
forty foot of water at the bottom of a cliff, hey, Burt?" 

"Shhh," Burt said again. "Later, Elmore." 

Pa laughed and took another drink of his whiskey. "Like I told you before, 
you worry too much," he said. "Ain't nobody ever going to know about it but 
you and me and the fishes." 

"Damn it, Elmore," Burt said nervously. "You better watch what you -" 

"And that other's even safer," Pa' said, leaning forward to turn on the old 
radio. "Them fishes ain't even going to see it." 

"No crap, Elmore," Burt said, jerking his head toward Janie June. "Talk 
about something else." 

"How about the high old time we're going to have us in Nashville?" Pa said. 
"That suit you?" 

"That'll be fine," Burt said, and lifted his own jar. "And the sooner we 
make Nashville, the better." 

Country music filled the room-twelve-string guitar and five-string banjo. Pa 
turned the volume down a little. "Takes the damn thing a while to warm up," 
he said. "Must be a. female radio, hey, Burt?" 

Janie edged her way around the wall to the door of her room, watching Pa out 
of the corner of her eye, hoping against hope that he wouldn't take a notion 
to turn around and look at her. Then she let herself inside, ran to her cot, 
and stripped off her dress. Thirty seconds later she was back at the stove 
again, wearing the dress she had taken off when she came home. 

And now Pa did look over at her. "Where'd you go?" he said, frowning. 

"Out in my room," Janie said. 

"Hell, I know that, goddamnit," Pa said. "I mean, what for?" 

"The grease was spattering," she said. "I didn't want to get it on my fresh 
dress." 

Pa looked at Burt and shook his head pityingly. "Ain't that just like a 
woman now, Burt? I tell you, they're all a little touched-every damn one of 
them." 

Burt snickered. "I liked the other dress better, Janie," he said. "A hell of 
a lot better." 

"What was so damn special about it?" Pa said. 

"Oh, I don't know. It just appealed to me somehow." 

"Well, just don't get yourself into too much of a sweat," Pa said, looking 
hard at Burt. "Just don't let anything about that girl get you too worked 
up, my friend. Because I aim to deliver her to Jud Slathers just the way she 
is right now." He narrowed his eyes a little. "You know what I mean, Burt? 
You follow me, boy?" 

"Sure," Burt said easily. "And like I told you, you got no reason to fret 
yourself one bit." 

Janie felt herself begin to tremble. Pa's mind was on her cherry now, she 
knew. If he and Burt kept talking this way, he'd inspect her, sure as 
anything. 

"What's all those flat pints in the corner for, Pa?" she said, hoping to 
shift his mind somewhere else. "You want me to fill them for you, or what?" 

"Yeah," Pa said. "And out of that special barrel I been saving. You know the 
one?" 

"Yes, Pa." 

"They're for the wedding guests, come Saturday." 

"That's mighty good of you, Pa," she said. 

"Good, my ass," Pa said. "I figure by spreading them around, I'll drum me up 
some new business." 

"But you aren't going to be around to -" Burt began. 

"Now you hush," Pa said quickly. 

"You want me to wash the bottles good, Pa?" Janie said, filling two plates 
with the ham and potatoes. 

"Damn well told," Pa said. "But only on the outside, where it'll show. If 
they don't look scummy on the inside, folks will think my booze ain't got no 
belt to it." 

"How's that again, Elmore?" Burt said. 

"Folks hereabouts are peculiar, is all," Pa said. "They think 'shine without 
a little scum and charcoal in it ain't worth drinking. They think it ain't 
no better than you can buy in a store." 

"I'll be damned," Burt said. 

Janie served the ham and potatoes. "You want anything else, Pa?" she said. 

"No," Pa said. "But you burned the goddamn taters again, I see." 

"You want me to bottle those pints now?" she said, hoping to get out of the 
cabin before Pa started thinking about her cherry again. 

"Tomorrow will be soon enough," Pa said. "How's your butt feel?" 

"Sir?" 

"From the hiding I gave you this morning," Pa said. "Is your butt proper 
sore, or ain't it? If it ain't, I can cure that situation damn fast." 

"It hurts something awful, Pa," she said. 

"Glad to hear it," he said. "How about that, Burt? Wouldn't even kiss the 
gent she's going to marry." 

"A scandal," Burt said, grinning. "I'm surprise at you, Janie." 

Pa laughed. "And here she'll be bedding down with him the rest of her life, 
come Saturday," he said. "Or maybe I should say the rest of his life-seeing 
as he ain't exactly no spring chicken." 

Janie began to tremble again. Talking about the wedding might put Pa in mind 
of her cherry. 

"Can I go to my room now, Pa?" 

"What for?" Pa said. "You spend half your life in there." 

"I don't feel so good," she said. "I want to stretch out a while." 

"Well, go on then," Pa said. "You're just too damn excited about marrying 
Jud, is all. A thing like that is bound to churn up a girl's innards a 
little, I reckon." 

"Yes, sir," Janie said, backing away toward the door of her room. "Thank 
you, Pa." 

"Well, Burt," Pa said, "dig in on them victuals. That pig ain't never et 
nothing but goobers, and I sugar-cured him right good. As for them taters, 
they been seeped in virgin pee for nigh on a month." 

"What?" Burt said. 

Pa laughed. "Just funning," he said. "The actual truth is, they've only been 
soaked in it a couple of nights." 

Janie closed the door behind her and walked around the blanket to her cot. 
She was still trembling. It had been a very close thing in there, what with 
her doggone shrunk-up dress, and all that talk about marrying. She was just 
darn lucky Pa hadn't thought to finger her. Next time, she wouldn't be so 
lucky. 

"Now, what's all this about you drumming up some new customers for your 
booze?" she heard Burt say. "You aren't even going to be here, Elmore." 

Pa said something in reply, but he had lowered his voice. Curious, Janie 
went back to stand close to the door, where she could hear better. 

" ... and I don't want her knowing about it just yet," Pa was saying. "So 
don't talk so loud." 

"All right," Burt said. "But what're you up to?" 

"I got me ten and a half barrels of pretty sorry corn," Pa said. "Batches I 
run off while I was drunk, most of them. And some I just plain didn't do 
proper with. There's two that Janie June botched up while she was learning, 
and one god-awful batch I just can't explain nohow." 

"That's a fortune, ten and a half barrels," Burt said. "Too bad." 

"Well, it won't be, come the wedding." 

"How so?" 

"Because I'm going to sell every drop of that stuff to the guests," Pa said. 
"That's why I'll be passing out them flat pints of my best sipping whiskey. 
As samples, you know." 

"As samples from the bad barrels, you mean?" 

"Right." 

"Aha," Burt said. 

"Oh, I'll make them a good price on it, all right," Pa said. 

"I'm sure," Burt said. 

"And by the time they get around to picking up their bargains, we'll be 
gone." 

"I'm right disappointed in you, Elmore. I always figured you were an honest 
man." He paused. "And you haven't told Janie June you're pulling out of 
here?" 

"She'll be a married woman, won't she? What's it to her?" 

"Which reminds me," Burt said. "How about Billy?" 

"What about him?" 

"Well, I was just wondering. You don't aim to drag him along with us to 
Nashville, do you?" 

"You simple or something? How much hell's a man going to raise with a little 
shit like that around? I mean to spend my time pronging them high-class city 
hoors, not wiping some damn kid's nose." 

"Well, what're you going to do with him, then?" 

"Take him down to his grandpa's and grandma's in Wynette. They been 
pestering me to keep him ever since he was knee-high to a duck." 

"Good idea." 

"I figured we'd take him down this evening." 

"Is that far? Wynette?" 

"Naw. Two- or three-hour round trip, maybe - counting the time to share a 
jar with the old folks." 

"You think it's smart, being gone that long?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"When those Mahannahs don't get back to Chattanooga, some of the boys in 
their outfit are going to begin to wonder about them." 

"Let them." 

"Yes-but they just might come up here to see what happened." 

"How're they going to know where to come?" 

"The Mahannahs knew, didn't they? Probably from the license number on the 
truck, you said." 

"That don't mean they told anybody else," Pa said. "In fact, it'd of been a 
point of pride with them not to. They'd want to keep you and me for 
themselves, Burt. That's just the way they was." 

"Maybe so. But -" 

"They was hill folks to begin with, you know. You kill a Mahannah, and a 
Mahannah is going to kill you. And he ain't going to bring in anybody from 
outside the family to help him do it, either." 

"Just the same -" 

Pa laughed. "You're just bound and determined to worry about something, 
ain't you?" he said. "Besides which, your victuals are getting cold." 

Janie went back to her cot and spent the next fifteen minutes letting out 
the hem of her shrunken dress. When she had finished, it was still too 
short, but at least it reached an inch or so beneath her pussy. She'd just 
have to be careful not to bend over or reach up for anything in front of Pa, 
that's all. And later, when Pa and Burt left, she could wash out her soiled 
dress and dry it fast by the stove. 

Why did Pa have to be so greedy, she thought to herself as she began to work 
on her running-away dress again. He already had half the money he and Burt 
had stolen from Duke Mahannah. Why didn't he just go off to Chattanooga now, 
without waiting to marry her to Jud Slathers just so he could have even more 
money? But no, he was just too darn mean and greedy. Like the way he was 
going to sell the wedding guests that bad whiskey. 

When she thought of the wedding, and about what she'd have to do with Jud 
Slathers afterward, it was like a fist clenching in her stomach. She'd never 
be able to run away from Jud, she knew. He was a rich man. He owned half the 
valley and most of the mountain, folks said. He could pay to find her and 
bring her back no matter how far she went, even if it was to the ends of the 
earth. Just a runaway girl was easy enough to find and bring back; a runaway 
wife-a rich man's wife-would be even easier. 

And then there was what Burt Connor had said about someone coming up the 
mountain to see what had happened to the Mahannahs. She hadn't even thought 
of that, for gosh sake. What if Pa was wrong? What if some of the Mahannah's 
friends did come up? Darn it all, anyhow, now she had to start worrying 
about that again. 

What was she going to do? she wondered. She had to run away-she had to. And 
yet she couldn't run away unless she found the money. She felt a tear start 
down her cheek. Doggone it, Pa and Burt had hidden that money so good she'd 
never find it. She began to sob. 

She heard the front door open and close. 

"Where the hell you been, Billy?" Pa said. 

"Fishing," Billy said. "I didn't catch nothing, though." 

"Bundle up your clothes," Pa said. "Right now." 

"What?" Billy said. 

"You heard me." 

"But what for?" 

"You're going to be living with grandpa for a spell." 

"You mean it?" Billy said. "Hot damn!" 

"Get cracking, boy. We're leaving right now." 

"Yes, sir!" Billy said, and a moment later he burst through the door and 
rushed around the blanket to confront Janie. "I'm going to stay with 
Grandpa," he said. "I won't have to put up with you no more." 

She dried her eyes. "Goody for you," she said .. 

He ran back to his side of the room and began to I gather up his few 
belongings. "You got something I can wrap my stuff in, Janie June?" he 
called. 

"Wrap it in your other shirt," she said, and took the last stitch in her 
running-away dress. Well, at least it's ready, she thought to herself as she 
hung it on the wall beside her cot. Now if the good Lord will only let me 
find the money so I can wear it! 

"Good-bye, you dumb girl, you," Billy called as he jerked open the door to 
the other room. 

I wish I was a boy, Janie thought. Pa wouldn't be selling me to Jud Slathers 
then, by golly! "Goodbye, Billy," she said. 

Then, as the door slammed behind him, she glanced down at herself and raised 
her hands to cup her breasts, feeling the pouting nipples begin to quicken 
beneath her fingers. 

"No, I don't," she said aloud, smiling to herself as she pressed the nipples 
a little harder. "I wouldn't be anything but a girl for all the tea in 
China." 

 Chapter Seven 

When Pa and Burt got back from Wynette, just before suppertime, they were 
roaring drunk, and Pa was in one of the meanest moods Janie could remember. 
He and Burt must have got into it about something, she decided as she cooked 
supper for them. They kept giving each other hard looks, and muttering 
things about how they wouldn't trust each other any further than they could 
throw them. 

And then, sure enough, Pa started talking about the wedding again - so drunk 
he was more or less talking to himself, with Burt just sitting there 
scowling at him. 

Janie served their supper, picked up her pink dress, which she had washed 
earlier and had been drying on a chair back by the stove, and started for 
her room. 

"By God!" Pa said, slamming his fruit jar down on the table. "I damn near 
forgot! Janie June, get your butt over here." He turned around in his chair 
to glower at her, his eyes red and unfocused. "Get over here, I said!" 

Janie took a step toward him, then paused, trying to keep from shaking. 
"What do you want, Pa?" she said. 

"You know damn well what. I ain't inspected you all day. I just plain damn 
forgot." 

It wouldn't do any good to tell him Ed Mahannah had taken her cherry against 
her will, Janie knew. Pa wouldn't believe her. And even if he did, he'd be 
so mad he'd kill her. If he'd been sober, he might only strap the hide off 
her. But, drunk as he was now, he'd kill her sure. 

"You can't, Pa," she said. 

"What!" he roared, half rising from his chair. "You defying me again, damn 
you?" 

"Oh, no, sir," Janie said beginning to cry. "Oh, no sir! It's-it's just the 
wrong time, Pa. I-I fell off the roof today." 

"You what?" Pa said incredulously. 

"I couldn't help it," Janie said. 

"You're lying. You only fell off it a couple weeks ago." 

"Oh, no, sir. It was a month, Pa. Don't you remember?" 

"Well, I don't give a good goddamn," Pa said. "Get yourself over here. I 
mean to -" He broke off suddenly, and then slowly sank back in his chair, 
his toothless mouth spreading wide in a grin. "By God," he said, shaking his 
head from side to side and reaching over to nudge Burt in the ribs. "Ain't 
that something? Ain't that the funniest damn thing you ever heard, Burt?" 

Burt rubbed his ribs, reached for his whiskey jar, and frowned at him. "You 
crazy, Elmore?" he said. 

"Don't you get it?" Pa said, and then laughed so hard the spittle flew out 
of his mouth. "She just fell off the roof!" 

"So she said," Burt said. "What the hell's so funny about that?" 

"She's a bride, damn it," Pa said, trying to keep from choking. "She's going 
to marry Jud Slathers Saturday, and she just fell off the roof!" He went 
into another uncontrollable laughing fit. "Can't you just see that old 
fart's face, Burt? Here he pays five thousand dollars for a cherry, and when 
he takes her to bed on his wedding night -" He broke off again. "Oh, my God! 
I'd almost give him back his money, just to see his face." 

"You better hope he thinks it's as funny as you do," Burt said. "And you 
damn sure better get your money first, too." 

Pa was choking and gasping, the tears rolling down his cheeks. "Don't you 
worry about that," he said. "As soon as the preacher gets his five dollars, 
I get my five thousand." He held his sides, laughing. "Oh, my God! Great 
Lord A-mighty! It's the funniest thing ever happened on the mountain!" 

"It wasn't so funny seeing those people stop up there by the cave," Burt 
said darkly. "That worries me, Elmore." 

"You're always worrying," Pa said, wiping his eyes. "They wasn't any of the 
Mahannah crew, I told you. Stop fretting yourself." 

"Just the same, I -" 

"They was just spooners, damn it. Looking for a place to fuck." 

"In a cave?" 

"Sure, in a cave. There's a lot of pronging goes on in there, Burt. I never 
been in there yet I didn't find a pile of rubbers." He broke out laughing 
again. "Oh, that poor damn Jud Slathers! That horny old fart is gonna be fit 
to be tied!" 

Janie backed away slowly until she reached the door of her room, then turned 
quickly and went inside, closing the door behind her without a word. 

She'd gotten away with her ruse only because Pa was so drunk, she knew. And 
just because he'd sidetracked himself that way didn't mean she was safe. He 
might take another notion to inspect her any minute now. In fact, he was 
almost sure to. Once he got all the laughing out of his system, he'd start 
thinking a little straighter. And when he did, he'd realize she'd tricked 
him. He'd come tearing back here to shove his finger up her-and then he'd 
kill her. 

The time had come, she knew; there wasn't a minute to spare. She had to run 
away - and she had to do it right now, before Pa got his wits about him 
again. To wait any longer would be just plain suicide. 

But it was broad daylight, and she had only the two dimes in her locket. And 
she couldn't just go up to the road on the ridge and beg somebody to give 
her a ride in their car. No matter how far she got that way, it wouldn't be 
far enough. Once Pa told Sheriff Loonsey she was missing, the sheriff would 
spread the word all over the county, and she'd be back here in no time. 

But wait! She didn't have to go up on the ridge. Not right away. She could 
go somewhere and hide for a day or two-until Pa and the sheriff figured she 
was long gone - and then go up there. 

"That's it, by golly!" she exclaimed. "My goodness! Why didn't I ever think 
of that before?" 

Excited now, she whipped the dress over her head and put on the new white 
dress she had made to run away in. She'd go over to the Shanley place and 
stay with Rosanne, by gosh! Rosanne had invited her to visit with her and 
her brother when she and Janie had had all that fun at the spring. Rosanne 
liked her, she knew; she'd be glad to help her. Maybe she could stay with 
her three or four days, maybe even a week. It was even possible Rosanne 
would lend her the money for bus fare to Chattanooga. Or better yet, Rosanne 
might even take her back to Chattanooga with her. After all, hadn't she said 
she wished Janie belonged to her? 

Out in the other room, Pa was still laughing and making jokes about Jud 
Slathers and Janie on their wedding night. 

Quickly, Janie put on the mail-order shoes Pa had ordered for the marrying, 
then hurried over to the trunk to get her locket and earrings. Scarcely able 
to contain herself, she fastened the locket around her neck and threaded the 
small gold hoops through the punctures in her earlobes. The new shoes were 
just a little loose on her tiny, high-arched feet, but not enough to matter. 

She was ready. 

She went to the window, raised the sash, and crawled out backward, being 
very careful not to tear her dress on the splintered frame as she lowered 
herself to the ground. 

A few moments later she was safely in the trees, running along the path that 
led to the Shanley place, two miles away. But a short distance further on, 
she paused to take off her shoes. She wasn't used to them, and she could run 
much better without them. 

When she came within sight of the Shanley cabin - big and well kept in its 
broad clearing in the trees - she stopped long enough to put on her shoes 
again. It was rapidly growing dark now; the cabin seemed to be standing in a 
pool of purpled shadows. As she watched, a light came on behind one of the 
windows, and then another. There was a big white car in the yard between the 
cabin and the dirt road that curved in toward the cabin and then away again. 

She went up on the porch and knocked at the door. 

There was absolute silence for almost a full minute. Maybe they didn't hear 
me, Janie mused, and knocked harder. 

The door opened a crack. "Yeah?" a man's voice said. 

It must be Rosanne's brother, Janie knew. What had Rosanne said his name 
was? Frank? No. Fred? Yes, Fred-that was it. 

"Hello, Fred," she said. 

The man didn't say anything, and he didn't open the door any wider. 

"I've come to visit with Rosanne," Janie said. "I'm Janie June Hibbins." 

The man opened the door and stood looking at her. "You don't say," he said. 
He was a very big man, and young, but completely bald, dressed in gray 
coveralls. He was holding a gun, the barrel pointed down at the floor. 

"Oh, my goodness," Janie said, staring at the gun. 

"Don't let it worry you," the man said, motioning her inside. "A man just 
never knows who's at the door, that's all. Come on in." 

"Thank you, Fred," Janie said, stepping into the room. And now she saw there 
were two other men there, also in gray coveralls, and both holding guns. 
"Oh, my," she said, taking a step backward. "Oh, my goodness!" 

The man by the door closed and locked it and put the key in his pocket. 
"We've got ourselves some company, boys," he said, smiling at Janie. "Miss 
Janie June Hibbons, no less." 

The other two men studied her narrowly for a moment, then put their guns 
away. They were both young too - lean, hard-looking men with close-cropped 
hair. One of them was hawk-faced; the other had features as small and even 
as a girl's, his short hair almost as blond as Janie's own. 

"I don't like this," the hawk-faced man said, coming forward. "What's she 
doing here, Gus?" 

"She says she's come to visit somebody named Rosanne," the man by the door 
said, his eyes roving up and down Janie's body. "Pretty little piece, isn't 
she?" 

"What's this Rosanne look like?" the hawk-faced man said. "Talk up, kid." 

"She's got real black hair and blue eyes," Janie said, trying to control the 
tremor in her knees. "She said she was staying here. Her and her brother 
Fred." 

"Well, they ain't here no longer," the hawk-faced man said. "So you can just 
turn around and -" 

"Just a damn minute, Jack," Gus said. "Is that any way to treat a lady?" 

The blond man spoke for the first time, "I'll treat her to something, all 
right," he said in a soft, lazy voice, staring at Janie's breasts. "After 
four years in the pen, I'll -" 

"Shut up, Earl," Gus said. 

The pen! Janie thought. So that was it! These mean-looking men in the odd 
gray coveralls were jailbirds. They were the men who had broken out of a 
police truck in Chattanooga the night before. They even had a white car 
outside, like the sheriff said they'd stolen to get away in. And they were 
dangerous, too, he'd said; they'd all been doing life for murder. 

"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you," Gus said. "But your friend and her 
brother are gone." 

"But we're here," the blond man said. "And we're even gladder to see you 
than she would be." 

"I ain't so sure," the hawk-faced man said, going over to draw the blinds. 
"I ain't so sure about that." 

"They were just plain unfriendly," Gus said. "All we wanted to do was stay 
with them a night or two. But no, they wouldn't have it. They just packed up 
in a hurry and high-tailed it on out of here." He laughed. "Didn't even say 
good-bye, as a matter of fact." 

"I see," Janie said, turning back toward the door. "Well, then, I'll just -" 

Gus put out his arm to bar her way. "You must live real close around here. 
We didn't see any other cabins, though." 

"I live two miles from here," Janie said. 

"How'd you get here?" 

"I walked." 

"You tell anybody where you were going?" 

"Gosh, no. I -" Janie began. Then she caught herself. "Of course, I didn't 
have to. My pa and two big brothers already knew where -" 

"Sure they did," Gus said, grinning at Jack and Earl. "For a girl, you 
aren't too good a liar, are you?" 

"Please," Janie said. "I just want to go home." 

"What?" Gus said. "And make us think you're unfriendly, like your 
black-haired friend? Why, I'm surprised at you." 

"I ain't sure I like this," Jack said, going over to peer around the edge of 
a blind. "We better get rid of her, Gus." 

"You see," Gus said, "it just so happens we haven't seen any pretty young 
ladies in quite a time. We'd sure enjoy a little feminine company, if you -" 

"Quite a time is right," Earl said. "Four years' worth." He stepped closer 
and reached out to touch Janie's hair. "Man, man. I think I'm going to go 
off, just looking at her." 

Janie dived for the door, but Gus caught her around the waist and dragged 
her back. Then, moving quickly, he stepped behind her and clamped his big 
hands on her arms just above the elbow. 

"Which one of you boys wants to unveil her?" he said. "It's about time we 
saw whether the rest of her's as pretty as her face is." 

"No!" Janie said, trying to struggle. "You leave me alone!" 

Smiling, Earl reached out and ripped her dress down to the waist. Then he 
stepped back, shaking his head. "Look at those tits," he said reverently. 
"Jack, just look at those pointers." 

Gus laughed. "Finish the job, Earl," he said. 

Earl tore the dress the rest of the way off and tossed it aside. "Well, what 
do you know," he said. 

"No panties, either." He sighed. "What do you think of that little gold 
thing between her legs, Jack? Is that a beauty or is it ?" 

"She's something, all right," Jack said. "She's really something." 

"It's about time you showed some interest, Jack," Gus said. "I was beginning 
to wonder about you." He released Janie's arms and stepped around to look at 
her from the front. "Perfect," he said softly. "Most perfect thing I ever 
saw." 

"Who'll be first?" Earl said. 

"I will," Gus said. "After all, I saw her first, didn't I?" 

"Okay if I'm second, Jack?" Earl said. 

Jack shrugged. "Why not? The slippery the better." 

"What are you going to do?" Janie said. 

"Nothing you'll regret, beautiful," Gus said. "Earl, Jack, bring that 
mattress in from the bedroom. We'd be too cramped up out there." 

Earl and Jack were back in a few moments, dragging the mattress across the 
floor to the middle of the room. 

"You'll be sorry," Janie said. "You just wait." 

"Sure we will," Gus said. "Now you're a smart girl. I could see that right 
away. And so you know what's going to happen is going to happen, no matter 
what you do." He gestured toward the mattress. "The thing to do is lie down 
and be friendly. That way, we won't get mad, and you won't get hurt." 

Janie bit at her lip, trying not to cry. It was true, she knew; there was 
absolutely nothing she could do about it. 

"Be smart," Gus said gently. "Lie down." 

She hesitated a moment longer, then walked to the mattress and lay down. 
Meanwhile, all three men had begun to take off their clothes. They were very 
fast about it, as if they were racing each other to be the first one naked. 

From her supine position on the mattress, Janie looked at them as they 
peeled off their undershorts, then closed her eyes. They all had big pricks, 
and all of them were standing straight out; but Gus's prick was bigger by 
far than either Jack's or Earl's, and his shaggy balls were as big as 
Janie's fists. 

Oh, my gosh, Janie thought. And he's going to be the first one to do it to 
me! 

She felt Gus crawl between her legs and his hairy chest mash down against 
her breasts. Then his glans touched the lips of her pussy and began to force 
them apart. 

"Damn it's tight," he said. 

"You're built like a horse," Jack said. "You better grease her up a little. 
You don't, and you'll tear her up." 

"She's already sweet and juicy," Gus said. "But damn, is she tight." 

"First time I ever heard a man complain because a cunt was too tight," Earl 
said. "Just shove it up there, damn it." 

Gus did, and Janie yelped with pain. But the pain was brief, and although 
she thought Gus's big prick would surely split her vagina, she raised her 
pussy up to meet him and ground it against him. The sooner she could make 
him come, the sooner it would be over. And she'd do the others the same way. 
Then, maybe, they'd let her go. 

"Why, you little devil," Gus said, pumping away. "Boys, this kid can fuck 
like a mink." 

"You don't have to tell us," Jack said. "Whoo-ee! Look at her go, Earl!" 

"What do you think I'm doing?" Earl said. "Watching Gus? Hell, I'm not going 
to last, Jack. The come's halfway out of my cock already." 

"There's more where it came from," Jack said. "Let 'er fly." 

Janie felt her juice flowing out around Gus's prick; she could feel its 
tickling path down the crack in her ass. And now, she discovered, she wasn't 
thrusting her pussy up at Gus for his benefit; she was doing it for her own 
as well. That big piece of meat felt awful good in there, by golly! It had 
started feeling good all of a sudden, and it was feeling better by the 
second. She hoped now he never would come. 

But he did-with a tremendous surge of hot seed that scalded the neck of 
Janie's womb. Janie cried out with surprise and disappointment, and clamped 
her legs around Gus's back, drawing him hard against her, trying to drain 
out some more. 

Gus lay with his full weight on her for almost a full minute, making odd 
little sounds deep in his throat. Then he withdrew his prick-soft now, 
dripping with come and Janie's cunt juice - and staggered to his feet. 

"Your turn, Earl," he said tiredly, slouching over to a chair to sit down. 
"Believe me, boy, you're in for something." 

"I believe you," Earl said, and sank to his knees between Janie's legs. 
"Boy, you came a potful, Gus. It's all over." 

"I wouldn't be surprised if you did the same," Gus said. 

Janie spread her legs and raised her hips, waiting for Earl's prick. It went 
in easier than Gus's had, but it seemed to go further up inside her, and she 
began to roll her hips as hard as she could. 

"Lie still!" Earl said. "I'm too close to coming as it is, damn it." 

But she couldn't stop, and she no sooner felt Earl's glans brush the neck of 
her womb than he came with a load every bit as copious as Gus's had been. 

Earl didn't lie in her embrace for a while, as Gus had done. He was angry, 
and he withdrew and got up at once. 

"Look what you did," he said. "Why the hell didn't you lie still, like I 
told you?" 

"I'm sorry," Janie said. "I just couldn't help it." 

"My first piece in four years, too," Earl said. "For God's sake, kid!" 

"There's always the next time, Earl," Jack said, getting down over Janie. 

Janie reached down between her legs and spread open the lips of her cunt 
with her fingers. "Hurry up," she said. 

Jack laughed. "I can't hardly see your slit for all the come," he said. 

Janie could feel the warm, sticky substance all over her, from just beneath 
her navel to halfway down her thighs. There was a spreading puddle of it 
beneath her, too, she knew; she could feel it and hear it squish every time 
she raised and lowered her hips. 

"Hurry up," she said again. 

Jack eased the head of his prick into her, then slowly pushed it back till 
it touched her womb, and began to fuck. But he didn't use an in-and-out 
movement, as Gus and Earl had done. He kept his pubic hair mashed hard 
against Janie's, moving his prick in a rapid, circular motion that soon had 
her crying out with joy. 

"Oh, that's good!" she panted. "Oh, my goodness!" 

"Hey!" Jack said. "You're gonna buck me off of you." 

"Oh, do it!" she said. "Do it, do it, do it!" And then, a moment later: "I'm 
coming! Oh, I'm coming! 

She came four times, at thirty-second intervals, and was just starting to 
come again when she felt Jack's discharge spurting against the neck of her 
womb. "Oh, Lord!" she gasped, and came so hard she thought all her insides 
were coming out. 

Jack started to withdraw. 

"Oh, don't," she said. "Please don't." 

"Got to," he said. "It's Gus's turn again." 

Gus was already standing by the mattress, his prick stiff and ready. "Dog 
fashion, this time," he said. "Over on your hands and knees, beautiful." 

They all fucked her that way - first Gus, then Earl, then Jack - and how 
many times she came she would never know. 

After Jack had pulled his prick out of her, she stayed on her hands and 
knees for a few seconds, catching her breath, then sank down to a sitting 
position and looked at them. 

They stood all together, watching her, their pricks soft now and their faces 
lined with fatigue. 

"Oh, but that was so good," Janie said, drawing her fingertips through the 
foot-wide pool of come on the mattress. "Just look how much came out." 

Gus looked at Earl and Jack, shook his head slowly, and reached down for his 
undershorts. "You're a wonder, sweetie," he said, his voice hoarse with 
exhaustion. "I've had myself some great pussy in my time, but I never ... " 
His voice trailed off, and he begun to put on his undershorts. 

"Aren't we going to do it again?" Janie said. 

"Again?" Gus said. "Good God, kid. What do you think we are?" 

"No more for me, thank you, honey," Jack said. "I'm just plain fucked out. I 
admit it. I just couldn't take any more." 

"Same here," Earl said, looking down at his prick. I couldn't get another 
bone on with a gun at my back." 

"Please," Janie said. 

"Forget it," Gus said. "You're just too much woman for us, that's all." 

"I'll bet I can make you want to," Janie said. 

"Oh, yeah?" Gus said. "It'd take even more of a wonder than you to do that, 
sweetie." 

Janie jumped up and walked over to him. "I'll show you," she said. 

"Not even if you're thinking what I think you're - thinking," Gus said. 
"We're just too far gone. You don't know your own strength, kid." 

She went down on her knees in front of him and took his prick in her hand. 
"You just wait," she said. "You'll see." 

"Holy damn," Earl said. "She just might have something there, Gus." 

"I doubt it," Gus said. "I haven't got any feeling left south of my 
belly-button." 

Janie touched the tip of her tongue to the eye of Gus's prick, then brushed 
it across the glans to the ridge and worked it slowly all the way around it. 
Then she pressed her lips softly against the glans, kissing it, sucking out 
the drops of juice that began to seep from the eye. 

"By God, Gus," Earl said. "That's beginning to do me some good, even if it 
isn't you." 

"It's a beautiful thing to see," Jack said. "I'm starting to feel a little 
itchy, myself." 

Janie sucked harder, opening her mouth wider, trying to draw the big head 
inside. And then, just as she finally succeeded in getting it into her 
mouth, she felt the shaft in her hand begin to swell and stiffen. She could 
hardly breathe, with her mouth so full of prick, but she pushed her face 
forward little by little, feeling the glans hard against her tongue and the 
roof of her mouth, and at last she felt the throbbing knob start down her 
throat. 

Since her mouth was too full to suck, she moved her head back and forth - 
slowly at first, then faster and faster, until the head and shaft were as 
big and hard as they had been the first time Gus had fucked her. 

Then she let his prick slide out of her mouth, swallowed the juice that had 
collected in her throat, and went over to kneel down in front of Earl. 

It took her much less time to make Earl's prick hard and throbbing than it 
had Gus's, and when she got to Jack, all she had to do was lick the glans 
for a few moments. 

"There," She said, smiling, as she walked back to the mattress. "Now we can 
do it some more." 

"I think the little lady deserves a damn good reaming," Jack said. 

"My prick's ready, but I'm tired as hell," Gus said. 

"Me, too," Earl said. "I damn near can't stand up." 

"But she deserves it," Jack said. "We can ream her three ways at the same 
time. If that don't satisfy her, there ain't anything ever going to." 

"Three ways?" Janie said. "What three ways, Mr. Jack?" 

"In your cunt and your mouth and your ass," Jack said. 

"Oh, no!" Janie said in alarm. "Not back there!" 

"Why not?" Jack said. "Some girls like it there better than --" 

"It'd split me wide open," Janie said. "Please, Mr. Jack, I don't want -" 

"It wouldn't do any such thing," Jack said. "You just don't know what you've 
been missing." 

"You could never get it in her ass, anyhow," Earl said. "Hell, it was hard 
enough even getting it in her cunt." 

"It takes the right technique, that's all," Jack said. 

"It would kill me!" Janie said. 

"Only with pleasure, honey." 

"You intend to do the honors yourself, I take it," Gus said. 

"Damn right," Jack said. "I ain't had my rod up a tender young ass since -" 

"Oh, please!" Janie said. "It'd rip me clean apart!" 

Well, we got three good hard-ons here going to waste," Gus said. "Which do 
you want, Earl? Mouth or cunt?" 

"Mouth," Earl said. "I've never been hornier, but I'm just too beat to 
fuck." 

"I know what you mean," Gus said. "All right, then. Let's plug up those 
holes." He lay down on the mattress and motioned to Janie. "Straddle me, 
beautiful. Just ease yourself down and camp on the peg." 

"No!" Janie said. 

"You haven't got a choice, gorgeous," Gus said. "Remember? You don't want to 
make us mad, and we don't want to make you sorry." 

He was right, Janie knew. She didn't have a thing in the world to say about 
it. She'd almost forgotten how dangerous and wicked these jailbirds really 
were. 

"Go on," Earl said. "I'm anxious to get my cock in your mouth again." 

She began to cry, but she went to the mattress and got down over Gus, facing 
him. As she lowered herself on Gus's prick, Earl straddled Gus too, facing 
Janie, so that his glans was within easy reach of her mouth. With Gus all 
the way up her cunt, she leaned forward, took Earl's prick into her mouth, 
and began to suck. Beneath her, Gus raised and lowered his hips, shoving the 
head of his cock the entire length of her vagina and back again, faster and 
faster. 

She had just begun to wonder when Jack was going to put it in her when there 
was a sudden, blinding pain in her asshole. She felt a scream rise in her 
throat, only to be choked off by the prick in her mouth. She tried to 
scrabble up, but Gus had reached behind her to grab a buttock in each hand, 
and Earl had seized her around the shoulders. 

She knew what had happened. Instead of gently easing his prick up her rectum 
little by little, as she had expected him to, Jack had simply aimed it at 
her anus and jammed the entire thing up her all at once. 

And yet, although she could feel Jack's pubic hair rubbing against her anus, 
and knew his cock was up her rectum all the way to the hilt, there was now 
no pain whatever. 

She just couldn't understand it, she reflected as the two big pricks slipped 
in and out of her cunt and rectum. All that hard, hot meat in her ass, 
separated by only a thin membrane from the even larger piece of meat in her 
vagina ... She would have sworn she could never have lived through it. 

She began to suck Earl's prick again, drawing it as far into her mouth as 
she could, rolling her tongue beneath it, feeling the steady pound of Gus's 
glans against the neck of her womb. 

And now, to her astonishment, the prick in her ass was beginning to feel 
just as good as the prick in her cunt ... Jack had been right, by golly. She 
just hadn't known what she was missing. By gosh. Jack's prick was starting 
to feel even better than Gus's did! 

She began to feel warm all over, the way she always did just before she 
came. She wasn't so much sucking Earl now as she was being fucked in the 
mouth, and she held her head motionless, enjoying the plunging prick even 
more that way. Somehow, all three of the men had hit on exactly the same 
rhythm, so that their pricks ran in and out of her mouth and cunt and ass in 
perfect unison, each man burying his meat to the pubes with every plunge. 

Then, to her horror, Janie realized all three pricks had begun to vibrate 
violently, and she knew the men were on the verge of orgasm. 

No, no! she thought. Not yet, not yet! 

But then she too began to come, and seconds later her mouth and vagina and 
rectum were flooded with three simultaneous discharges. Writhing, she drank 
the hot fluid spurting against the roof of her mouth, feeling more and more 
jism shooting into her cunt and up her ass. It seemed the men would never 
stop coming - at least she hoped they never would. 

As she gulped down another enormous gout of Earl's seed, she tried with the 
lips of her cunt and the mobile rim of her anus to suck at the pricks in her 
vagina and rectum, determined to drain them of every last precious drop. 

And meanwhile, she came constantly, harder and harder, without pause or let. 
She was half out of her mind, almost delirious, oblivious to everything but 
the endless orgasm that stretched on and on and on - until the room began to 
spin around her head in a dizzying blur. Then there was a sudden, dazzling 
burst of brilliant lights, followed at once by utter darkness. She felt as 
if she were floating up and away - out of the cabin and into the night and 
up among the stars .. 

When she returned to her senses, the room was empty She sat up, and then 
tilted her head to one side, listening. She could hear a car. She ran over 
to the window and put her eye to the crack between the blind and the frame. 
The car that had been in the yard was just turning onto the road, its 
headlights sweeping a wide arc against the trees beyond. 

Oh, darn! she thought as the car picked up speed and roared away. Why 
couldn't they have stayed long enough to do that to me just one more time? 

Then, as she turned from the window, she caught sight of her ruined dress, 
lying there where Earl had thrown it after he had ripped it off her-and 
suddenly the desperateness of her situation came home to her full force. 

She felt the tears start. Her dream of running away was over. She couldn't 
stay here at the Shanley cabin after all. Pa or the sheriff would come here 
looking for her. And without Rosanne and her brother here to protect her and 
say they'd never seen her, she would have no chance at all. 

And now, with her dress torn to shreds, she couldn't even go up on the ridge 
and beg somebody for a ride. She was just plain sunk, darn it; all she could 
do was go back home. 

Then, for a brief moment, she thought about asking Roy Wilson to hide her 
and, somehow, find a dress for her. But she knew she couldn't do that. It 
would just be risking Roy's neck, and she liked him too much to do that. 
Because Roy's cabin was probably the first place Pa or the sheriff would 
look, even before they came here to the Shanley place. 

She walked over to where her dress lay and picked it up. It wasn't only 
shredded; it was torn into three separate pieces. She brushed a tear from 
her cheek, and then wadded up a piece of the dress and wiped the come from 
her belly and pussy and thighs. It took another piece for her hips and the 
backs of her legs. Then she discovered there was even some come in the 
hollow of her throat and between her breasts, and she used the last of the 
dress on that. 

When she had finished, she went to the door, glanced back once at the 
mattress in the middle of the floor, and left the cabin. 

She turned toward home and began to run - a very young girl on a dark path 
in the nighttime forest. She ran faster - naked and afraid. 

 Chapter Eight 

When Janie reached home, she circled around through the trees so that she 
could approach the cabin from the rear. Then, walking softly, she crossed 
the back yard toward the window of her room. But just before she reached it, 
she paused for a moment to look up at Piney Ridge, thinking about the bus to 
Chattanooga that came along up there every night-the bus she now would never 
be able to take. 

Then, as she started toward the window again, she tripped over something and 
almost fell. 

"Darn that boy, anyhow," she muttered, looking down at the fishing rod and 
the wooden box her brother Billy had kept his tackle in. "Always leaving 
things where a body is bound to -" She broke off, frowning down at the rod 
and tackle box, the sight of them reminding her of something Pa had said 
about fish. What was it now? She bit at her lip, trying to think. He'd been 
telling Burt that nobody would know where the dead Mahannahs and their car 
were but him and Burt and the fish in the forty foot of water at the bottom 
of the cliff. 

But that wasn't it. He'd said something else about fish, too. He'd said ... 
Yes, that was it. He'd said, "That other's even safer. Them fishes ain't 
even going to see it." 

Janie shut her eyes and took a long deep breath. Now she knew where Pa and 
Burt had hidden the money. When she'd heard Pa saying those things, she'd 
been so worried about his inspecting her cherry that his words had gone in 
one ear and out the other. 

But now she knew what he had been hinting around about. By "that other," 
he'd meant the money. And when he'd said, "Them fishes ain't even going to 
see it," he'd been talking about the blind fish in the river up there in 
China River cave What it all meant was that the money was in the water with 
the fish. 

"Oh, Lord!" Janie breathed as she eased up the window sash. "If only they 
haven't moved it somewhere else!" 

Once inside, she tiptoed to the door to the front room and put her eye to 
the crack between the door and the jamb. Pa was sprawled out asleep on his 
cot, and Burt Connor was asleep at the table, his head resting on his 
forearm and his mouth slightly pursed, as if he were whistling. 

Janie watched them for a moment, aware for the first time that she could 
still smell the scent of Earl's come rising from the heated skin between her 
breasts, and then went around the blanket to put on the everyday dress she 
had washed and dried by the stove. It wasn't near as nice as her 
running-away dress had been, but it would just have to do. 

Then, carrying the lantern and matches she had taken from the front room 
when she had gone to the cave last night, just before Pa and Burt got back 
from Chattanooga, she crossed to the window and climbed out. 

Twenty minutes later, the lantern beside her, Janie was lying flat on her 
stomach beside the rushing water in the China River cave, her arm in the 
water up to the elbow, feeling along the knobby surface of the undercut rock 
beneath her, probing for what she knew had to be there. 

At last she found it-a taut wire tied to a fist-sized projection on the 
rock. The pull of the current on whatever was on the other end of the wire 
was so strong that the wire almost cut her fingers as she drew it up hand 
over hand. If she hadn't been such a strong girl for her size, she wouldn't 
have been able to pull it up at all. 

The thing on the end of the wire was a thick plastic bag, as big as a gunny 
sack, and more than half full of paper money. 

Just as Janie started to undo the wire from the gathered top of the bag, she 
thought she heard something. Her fingers froze on the wire, and she crouched 
there, motionless, feeling her nipples tingle with sudden fear. She heard 
the sound again - the rattle of pebbles dislodged from the slope beneath the 
cave. 

It had to be Pa or Burt Connor, she knew. Whoever it was, he'd kill her for 
sure. He'd know she knew what had happened to Duke Mahannah, and he'd kill 
her and throw her body in the river. 

Her breasts ached and her pussy was spasming, as if she were going to pee 
without wanting to. 

She'd never thought so fast in her life. Whoever it was, he would already 
have seen the light of her lantern, so there was no use trying to do 
anything about that. But if he didn't already know who was in the cave, she 
still had a chance to keep from being caught. 

That chance - and it was her only chance - was to hide in the water. And 
since a wet dress would give her away later, she'd have to take it off. 

She dropped the bag back into the river, then quickly took off her dress and 
shoes and wedged them into the crevice between two rocks, where no one could 
see them. Then she slid into the water, and, making sure of each handhold 
before she trusted her life to it, worked herself back beneath the 
overhanging stone shelf, just as she had done so often in play as a little 
girl. Only her head and shoulders were above the hissing surface of the 
water now, and she hooked her fingers over a small ridge in the rock and 
fought the savage tow of the current that threatened to tear her hands away 
at any second and send her hurtling through the bowels of the earth forever. 

She heard the hollow pound of heavy boots in the cave, and then Pa's curse 
of surprise when he found no one there. 

The water was so cold that Janie was sure her breasts had shriveled up to 
almost nothing. The tender membrane lining her vagina felt as if she had 
pushed an icicle in there, and her tight little anus felt as if it had 
frozen shut forever. 

Swearing steadily, Pa began to pull up the wire attached to the money bag. 
The bag broke through the surface of the water, and a moment later Janie 
heard the soft plop as Pa dropped it on the cave floor. 

Then, suddenly, Pa's swearing broke off. "Burt!" he said. "I didn't hear you 
come in." 

"I didn't mean for you to," Burt Connor's voice said. His voice was flat and 
cold. "Caught you red-handed, didn't I?" 

"What're you talking about?" 

Burt's laugh was ugly. "I kind of figured on you double-crossing me, Elmore. 
But I didn't think it'd be so soon." 

"Listen here -" Pa began. "Hey, now! What're you doing with that knife?" 

"You're a dead man, Elmore," Burt said. "Did you know that?" 

"You got me wrong, Burt," Pa said, his voice breaking. "I wasn't going to 
take the money. I just seen a light up here, and I -" 

"Sure," Burt said. 

"Get away with that knife!" Pa yelled. "Don't do it, Burt! Burt, listen to 
me. I swear I never -" 

"Good-bye, Elmore," Burt said, and then Pa's body splashed into the water 
only a yard from Janie's head. And, in spite of herself, Janie cried out. 
The next instant, Burt had reached down, caught her by the wrist, and was 
pulling her out of the water. 

But when he had dragged her up beside him, and had seen who it was and that 
she was completely naked, he gaped at her in stunned disbelief, forgetting 
for a moment to retain his viselike grip on her wrist. 

That moment was all Janie needed to wrench loose from him and dart for the 
mouth of the cave. He lunged after her, but his clutching hands slipped off 
her wet body and he could not hold her. 

Down the slope she raced, with Burt just behind her. His legs were longer 
than hers, but she knew every foot of the way and he did not. On the other 
hand, she was still a little tired from all that fucking and sucking with 
the jailbirds at the Shanley place, and the four miles of running she had 
done to get there and back again hadn't helped either. 

She felt the sting of the wind against her wet, bare skin and the tug of her 
long blonde hair streaming out behind her. Oh, if she could only reach the 
cabin before he caught her! Then she could grab Pa's rifle off the wall and 
keep him from killing her. 

And then, just as she was almost halfway across Froggy Bottom, she slipped 
on the dew-slick grass and fell. She was up and running again almost at 
once, but now Burt was only a few steps behind her. As she started up the 
slope to the cabin, she cast a terrified glance over her shoulder and saw 
that he was even closer than she had thought, the knife in his hand flashing 
horribly in the moonlight. She'd never reach the cabin now, she knew; she 
was as good as dead this very second. 

And then she remembered. The pits! The brush-covered man-pits Pa had dug 
around the grove where he had his still. The pits he'd put there to trap 
revenue agents who got too close. 

The nearest pit was only a dozen yards away. She veered toward it, and at 
the last instant swerved to one side, hoping that Hurt would crash through 
the thin layer of brush and fall into the pit below. 

But it was not to be. Burt had changed his own course when he saw her change 
hers, and his pounding feet skirted the pit by inches. 

He had her now for sure, Janie knew. There wasn't any other pit she could 
lead him to without doubling back the way she had come. She could already 
imagine the knife sinking into her breasts and belly, and she heard herself 
begin to whimper. 

Then she felt another surge of hope, and she ran even faster. She'd 
forgotten about the trip-wires. There was one in the ankle-deep grass thirty 
yards ahead. It was the last one between here and the cabin, and it would be 
her last chance to save her life. 

She reached the trip-wire only a step before Burt did, leaped over it, and 
sprinted on. Burt's foot caught on the wire and he went sprawling headlong, 
his body skidding across the wet grass to come to a sudden stop against a 
stump. 

Janie ran into the cabin, jerked the rifle off the wall, and ran back 
outside. She'd just have to shoot Burt, she guessed; there didn't seem to be 
any other way to keep him from killing her. 

But he lay completely still, and as Janie cautiously approached him she saw 
that his neck was bent at an odd angle and that his eyes were wide open, 
staring at nothing. 

He was dead, she knew; he'd hit his head against the stump and broken his 
neck. 

Poor Mr. Connor, she reflected as she turned back toward the cabin. He 
hadn't been all that bad, but he had sure enough been a very strange man. 

An hour later, just after midnight, Janie waved down the bus on top of Piney 
Ridge. She paid her fare with a fifty-dollar bill and then, carrying Pa's 
scruffed, cardboard suitcase, walked down the aisle till she found an empty 
seat. Then she sat down, put the suitcase on her lap, and sat smiling out 
the window into the night as the big bus roared back to life and started off 
down the mountain on its way to Chattanooga. 

It had been a pretty full day, she reflected, as she slipped her hand 
beneath the suitcase to finger her cunt. She was thirty thousand dollars 
richer, and she'd been fucked so many times she couldn't even remember. And 
now, doggone it if all that rushing around to get back to the cave and 
climbing up the ridge to the road hadn't made her horny again! 

She rubbed her clitty harder and harder, as she had done all her life, then 
suddenly remembered she no longer had a cherry, and pushed two fingers up 
her cunt as far as they would go. 

"Oh. Lord, Lord," she said to herself, feeling the juice beginning to pour 
out around her fingers. "I'll never, never, never get enough." 

The woman across the aisle cleared her throat. "Look how tight that girl's 
holding that old wreck of a suitcase," she said to the man beside her. 
"You'd think she had a fortune in there." 


THE END
