Chapter 1

This story takes place in 1935, the height of the great depression. It is the story of Tempest, the stunningly sexy and beautiful daughter of a fraudulent, itinerant preacher. Her father Jacob, has lusted after her for years. She is now 17 and lives in fear of him and the other men around the touring religious revival show. They travel in wagons through Illinois, Missouri and Iowa.

I sighed, looking at the field full of cows. "All I ever see is cows, wagons and all those hypocrites that give money to my father." My father, Jacob, was an evangelist preacher. Everything was forbidden and what was allowed, resulted in endless penances. Later in life, I realized he was disturbed.

All I had to wear was thick ankle length skirts and long sleeve blouses. My bras were so thick they were almost armored. Some of the boys called me the "Iron Maiden". What my clothes did not disguise, to my father's dismay, was my looks. When I looked at myself naked I saw a body that tempted men to distraction. I was 5'10" with long, curly chestnut hair, huge brown eyes and breasts in abundance. They were 36D in the new sizing system, high and firm. My waist is 22. My hips are 36. Since I was 13, I have been told by Father that I had a wicked, sinner's body. Now I was 17 and incredibly beautiful. Not that I thought so, but because everybody told me so. Every time my father saw even a scrap of my flesh, he would slap me and thunder that I was a temptress from hell.

Father toured around the surrounding 3 states with his revival tent and entourage. That was about as far as our wagons would go. The rest of America drove model Ts, but Father said cars were the devil's invention. I was ordered to play the tambourine and sing when the choir did. I hated the revivals because deep down, I knew Father was a hypocrite and a fraud. I had felt his hot eyes on me, seen the look in his eyes when he saw me with few or no clothes on, and sometimes I felt his eyes on me in my tent, peeking and lusting. It had been years since I viewed him with anything other than contempt. I also knew his religious fervor was a sham for making money. He never went to church, never read the bible and his hot eyes always lusted after me, despite his claims that I was the temptress.

But, oh my god could he preach. If I had not known better, after listening to him preach, I'd have believed anything he said.

When I asked him about my mother, all he would say was that she had been a hurricane in his life, and so, as she died shortly after giving birth to me, she had named me Tempest. I'm told my mother had insisted, "Her name is Tempest," until she died of an infection. Father tried to rename me "Chastity," but everyone ignored him, having heard her determination. I knew Father wanted to name me Chastity, to atone for his guilt at having lain with a woman.

I hated the religious frauds my father attracted. Almost all were liars and hypocrites. They looked at me with lust and proclaimed their piety. They gave Father money to pray for their redemption. And then most of the men and a few of the women would ask me for a private prayer session. I always shook my head and hurried off. I was afraid of their "private prayer sessions."

I was consistently amazed. "How can anybody pay someone else to pray to God for them and expect it to be well received?" I wondered, stunned at the naivete as they paid Father, the fraud, the pray for them.

I was asleep when a hand groping my breast woke me up. It was Father, kneeling next to my bed. I thrust his hand away and cried out.

"Shut up, you wanton slut," He growled at me and I smelt alcohol on his breath. "I'm not a slut, you old fraud." His eyes widened with shock at my response and then his face twisted with anger. He slapped me painfully. Enraged at his behavior, I slapped him back. I barely got a glimpse of his fist before it hit my jaw with stunning force. I almost blacked out.

"Shameless Jezebel, sleeping with unbound breasts." He yanked the sheet and blanket off of me. Then he flipped me over onto my stomach. I was distantly aware of my forearms being bound together. He flipped me back over on my back and stuffed a dirty handkerchief in my mouth. Fear and panic flared in me and I started kicking my legs. He pinched my nose shut and growled, "Lie still, you slut." Unable to breathe well, I stopped kicking. He let go of my nose and I felt his gaze wander over my body. My forearms forced my large breasts up and out. My gasping for air made them heave as he leered at them. He stood and I heard a "snick." He went to the end of my cot and started to slice my ankle length nightgown in half.

"Noooooooooo..." I mumbled into the handkerchief stuffed in my mouth. I began to kick again in my growing panic and disgust. He stopped cutting the nightgown and I felt the point of the blade cut my thigh. "You will obey me as the Lord." He growled. "Lie still and accept the chastisement of God."

Now I was really frightened. He had gone mad! The blade sliced rapidly up my nightgown until it parted at my neck. I was naked to the hot gaze of my father. "Oh no, No. Let this be a nightmare. Noooooooooooo!" I moaned into the dirty gag in my mouth. He sliced through the short sleeves and ripped the nightgown out from under me.

"Now, you dirty slut, you will be chastised for the glory of God." He grabbed my breasts and mauled them cruelly. I moaned in pain into my gag. "Shameless whore, you moan in pleasure at the hands of your father! So easily aroused in your evil ways." Tears leaked out of my eyes and ran down the sides of my face. Father pulled my nipples up painfully, pinching them with his cruel fingers. I panicked, kicking and writhing to escape his painful hands. I froze when the knifepoint appeared before my eye.