It is not really important who I am. I am just one of the many McGee clan members from down state. I wanted to set the record straight on exactly what started the unpleasantness up in Clay County a few years back. I know there was a lot of blood spilt on both sides these last few years. In all honesty, I have to agree it was probably all unnecessary. Looking back on it now, I think it was a combination of stubborn pride and some of those killing skills the Marine Corps tend to enhance in Mountain boys. Just like that Sergeant York back in the Great War. I know, hardly anyone around to remember that anymore. Hell's bells, these young'uns don't even remember WWII or that dirty business in Korea. No, it is either Vietnam or this Arab business that goes on forever.
That is not what this story is about.
This story is about a fella called Otis McGee. I guess you could say it is about pride. Not foolish pride like in the picture shows. It is more of a pride that relies on a sense of family, adherence to a code of honor, and a determination of purpose that subscribes to the principle of "An eye for an eye" retribution.
Otis McGee was not what you could call a smart fella. He was a bit slow when it comes to book-learning. Otis was more of a thinking man. Problem was, you never could be quite certain what he was thinking.
Oh, I know, them folks down the holler all thinking I'm making excuses for Otis, but that's just not so. Fact be known, I am somewhat partial to big Otis cause he is my nephew. Everyone will tell you that.
"Those McGee's, they all stick together and that's no lie".
Well, I'm a telling you true, Otis never kilt anyone didn't deserve it ten times over.
The Sacketts are a bunch of weasels to tell it different. I personally never did trust the Sacketts after what they did to Billy Joe over in Clay County. I keep telling the young'uns,
"Keep away from the Sacketts. They are a bunch of shiftless pond scum. Making trouble and spilling their guts to low-land revenue men."
Poor Otis just got caught in the middle. That don't mean he is a mean-spirited boy. He just likes to finish what he starts. He got that from his Daddy. His Daddy was a real hell-raiser. That man could hold his drink better than anyone I purely knew.
But this tale is not about his Daddy. This story is about Otis and that poor sweet Ida Mae. You know, Big Tom Stewart's little girl from the Corners over on County-line road. She is such a lovely chile and only sweet sixteen. A real babe in arms, you might say.
I will tell you up front.
Yes, she did get pregnant.
Yes, it was Otis who was the Father.
Yes, her Father did kick her out the front door and Otis set them up in that shack over on River road. It was one of ones that got flooded out back in 98. They were a nice couple and never set out to harm nobody.
It was that scheming bastard; Randy Sackett caused all the trouble.
He was sniffing around Ida Mae ever since she turned 16. It was like he could smell fresh pussy all the way from Sackett territory.
I once caught that Randy humping my own little Nellie at the square dance, behind moonshine creek, just last spring. I kicked his bare ass from here to the County line. My Nellie was all upset and telling me how handsome he was and how "beautiful" his cock was. Her words, not mine. Nellie was only 18 at the time and now she is married to Bud McGee and they got three strapping sons up on Wolverton Mountain.
That super stud Randy fancied he was so good-looking that he expected little Ida Mae to spread her legs for him when he went sniffing around their place over on River road. He caught poor Ida unawares hanging her wash in her night shift. He had her on the ground and was humping her real good before she even realized it wasn't Otis home early and getting some. By that time, she was enjoying it too much to even caution Randy about her being married to Otis and her promise to be a dutiful wife. Her orgasm made her wail out like a wounded animal caught in a snare.
Poor Otis coming up the trail figured she be in mortal danger.
Otis didn't even hesitate to bury his ax in Randy's skull just as the copulating cocksman loosed his load into Ida Mae's cunt.
It didn't really matter in a family planning sense, since Ida Mae was already about three months pregnant. I don't suspect Ida or Otis was thinking about that a-tall.
At that point, I suspect Otis was not in any real trouble.
His real trouble began about the time Randy Sackett's blue tinged body washed up at the dam. It was the one right there just before the interstate bridge crosses the river. The sheriff down there in Coffee County opined that it might be a suicide or an unfortunate accident, but the ax wound in the back of his head made that seem mighty unlikely.
The Sacketts came down in full force to recover Randy's cold and stiff body. When they arrived back in Sackett territory, many a female eye watered up real sorrowful at his early demise. Of course, Randy was not too particular about the closeness of familial ties, where pussy was concerned.
The patriarch of the clan, old Solomon Sackett himself, swore revenge on the evil person what had cut this Sackett son off from the vine.
Unfortunately, Ida Mae was a teensy bit talkative with her relatives when they tasted the corn fixings over to the Stewart moonshine still the next weekend. When she related the story of being impaled by an obsessed Randy Sackett whilst hanging the wash, some unfriendly ears overheard and relayed the tidbit to the Sackett clan.
The next day, when Otis was away at work like a proper husband, a half dozen of the Sackett men showed up at Ida Mae and Otis McGee's River road home and cornered Ida behind the pig sty. She cried, she sobbed, and she begged them to spare her, but the Sackett men were adamant that justice would be served for Randy's death.
Ida Mae quickly acquiesced to allowing all of the Sackett males take their revenge by mounting her in the mud of the pig sty.
The men joked and laughed as they took turns pounding the young wife's plump posterior. Some of the things those boys did to her and said to her are not fodder for mixed company. I will just say poor Ida received full measure of Sackett meanness that afternoon. Ida was ashamed of her own juices running down her legs and the moans of pleasure she emitted as each new cock was introduced both into her pussy and her tiny ass hole.
When they were finished with her, they left her lying in the mud of the pig sty. Her stark naked white ass streaked with pig sty mud and globs of Sackett cum stuck up high in the air. She was unable to muster the strength to stand up and wash herself off.
That is where Otis found her when he returned home from work. He did not say anything and did not ask his wife any questions at all. He just washed her off and put her into the wide bed to rest her weary body.
It was at this point that Otis became a mite bit off-kilter, so to speak.
When Ida Mae saw Otis take his Daddy's gun off the mantle, she knew the Sackett's were in big-time trouble. She had no doubt the entire clan were cruising into a World of hurt.
They just didn't know it yet.
Otis never was one to ask for help.
She reckoned he would take care of this hisself. He was not a man what stopped once he got started.