Chapter 9

The door to the smokehouse stood open, allowing Lynn to look out directly upon the woods. She watched the dry breeze as it twisted and swooped through the summer leaves, making them quiver and turn and flutter, allowing Lynn to see them from every angle under the softening wash of the late-afternoon sun. The breeze seemed actually visible to her now, visible as a flow of heat waves scurrying this way and that among the leaves. The smokehouse was suffocatingly hot, but Lynn felt fairly comfortable, being stark naked, bathed in sweat, and having plenty to drink. Tyler and Delbert, after fucking her mouth and asshole, had wrapped a chain around her waist and padlocked her to the iron stove in the center of the hut-like smokehouse. As she sat on the bare ground of the smokehouse floor, she leaned back against the cool iron of the stove, watching the breeze in the leaves, daydreaming, and drinking the wine and water the two boys had left her. Oh, such wine!

Lynn had never tasted wine like this. It had to be homemade. A deep rose color. A little bubbly. And tasty. Lynn smacked her lips after each sip. And potent. The first sip had made her giggle. The alcohol had shot directly to her brain. And now she'd been sitting here for what seemed like hours, sipping and giggling and sipping more. The boys had left her a half gallon of the stuff in a glass jug, and she'd sipped down more than a quart. The wine made her terribly thirsty, and she sipped water along with the wine. She'd drunk nearly a half gallon of that, and her bladder was screaming for relief. She continually crossed and re- crossed her naked legs, trying to avoid pissing in the dirt under her ass.

Despite the ballooning of her bladder, Lynn felt good. She couldn't remember ever having sat alone like this just relaxing and daydreaming. It seemed that she'd spent every waking moment of her life in the company of Jenny. Jenny was a good old girl. Life was never boring with Jenny around. And the two of them were both rich and popular. That was Jenny's doing too. The scheme of blackmailing all those men had been Jenny's idea from the start. Lynn had just played along. Yes, Jenny had given Lynn a good life. Still it was good to sit like this by herself and to daydream and relax. And it felt good even to be chained up. She'd never felt quite so sexy - naked and chained, her ass still throbbing with the feel of the enormous cock that had fucked her.

Lynn glugged down some more wine, sucking it directly from the wide mouth of the jug. The rosy liquid dribbled out of her mouth as she drank, dripping from her chin to her tits. She giggled as she carefully placed the jug back on the earthen floor. Her tits and belly were all sticky now with dried and drying wine. Some of the wine had even run down into her cunt-bush. She was beginning to smell like a wine bottle, but she didn't care. She imagined herself a whore-slave, a tramp. How disgusting she must look! She giggled. If the rich boys could only see Miss Lynn Smith now, she thought. Would they kiss her ass now, or would they piss on her? Who cares? She might enjoy that for once - getting pissed on.

"Lynn, you're the whore of the earth," she said out loud, listening to the words stumble out of her mouth. She wasn't quite sure, but she seemed to be moving and speaking in slow motion. Forming the words with her lips and tongue was something like a game now. "Lynn, you're quite drunk," she said, vaguely aware that there was something wrong with the way she'd pronounced the word drunk. Somewhere in the distance Jenny was screaming. And all those guys were shouting and laughing. The sounds seemed to come from very far off, carried on the dry wind. She could hear the hissing rustle of the woods more loudly. Jenny screamed again, and that big red dog was yapping. Something was happening, but Lynn had long ago given up trying to imagine what. She'd been listening to the intermittent screams and shouts and barks for what seemed like hours now. Those sounds had become natural to her ears, blending in perfectly with the rustling of the woods, with the chirping of birds, with the glugging sound of the wine in the bottle as she drank.

She studied her body. A drop of wine hung from one of her purplish nipples. She carefully lifted her tit, leaned her head forward, and licked the luscious droplet off her nipple. Her loins flooded with tingles. She giggled.

This all felt good. The temperature was just right - dry and toasty. The sweat covering her body made her feel slippery and sexy. She rubbed her legs together, they shimmied against each other as if oiled. Her crotch throbbed, the piss-ache and the fuck-feelings all blending into one. The heavy chain around her middle - part silvery, part greasy and black - cut gently into her belly-flesh like a tight belt. Even the feel of the chain was sexy. She'd had dreams about being chained up like this, she'd had dreams about being sexually abused, but she'd never imagined that they would one day come true. Now it was happening - and it was really quite exciting, even more exciting than her dreams had been. And the wine was good, too. The wine was very good. She picked up the jug and poured some more down her throat.

She might have dozed after that. She had no way of knowing. But suddenly she was no longer alone. The glare of the sun, and silhouettes danced before the doorway of the shed. She smiled at the figures, having the strange sensation that she was suddenly being visited by pagan gods from the nearby woods.

The figures entered the shed and began to unchain her, their hot, coarse hands falling everywhere on her naked body. She giggled, letting them paw her. She even spread her legs, wishing one of them would shove his hand up her cunt.

"Come on, dizzy cunt," one of them said. "Time to get some sun."

"Let me fuck her first," the other one said.

"Nothing doing," said the first one, chuckling. "Your pa wants her outside now. Plenty of time for fucking later. He says we can have the other one all to ourselves all night."

"Shit!" the second said. And four hands gripped her by the arms and shoulders and dragged her, toes dragging, out into the white-hot glare of the sun.

Lynn giggled all the way. She even giggled when they dropped her onto the hot, dusty clay of the barnyard. There she sat, blinded by the sunshine and by the wine-blur. She was aware of another naked body on the ground next to her, pressing up against her side. A hand fell on her tit, the fingernails clawing.

"Lynn," the body next to her whispered. "Lynn."

Giggling, Lynn forced the hand away. "Jenny, don't pinch my boob!"

A huge foot fell on Lynn's thigh. She looked up, recognizing the hazy face of the old hillbilly farmer. Through the blur, he looked even more comical than she had remembered him. His gray hair and shaggy beard appeared to flare out in all directions, his head like that of a lion.

"You look happy," the old man said. "Been having a good time?"

Lynn giggled. "Wheeee!" she squealed, feeling crazy.

The old man chuckled. "That's what I like to see - a pretty gal like you feeling good, having a good time. I bet you're just aching to get your pussy licked."

Lynn giggled. "Lick my pussy, Daddy."

"I'll lick it!" Delbert cried.

Trough her woozy haze Lynn could see the young boy dancing before her with his tongue hanging out, With that arm-long prick of his up and wagging like an excited dog's tail.