Chapter 2: Beginings

Before they had finished her brain winked out. By the time she came to they had both cleaned themselves and somewhat wiped her clean, righted their clothing, and went to sleep. Netty’s softened brain recognized how filthy she was despite their efforts to clean her. It was far more than a simple wiping down at the wash pail could rectify.

Netty carefully got out of the wagon on wobbly legs. The fire was too low to be much help, but the full moon was enough to light the way to the creek nearby. Once behind the bushes that grew thick along its banks she slipped into the cold water, nightgown and all. The garment was as soiled as the rest of her. She washed herself and the fabric until the jellied semen and her own fluids were gone. That done, she leaned back and allowed herself to float in the stillness near the bank.

She reveled in feeling properly clean again. The babbling water rinsed away any dust missed with the rag earlier; all the sweat accumulated since bedtime washed away. Above her the stars bobbed in time with the uncomfortable throbbing she felt all over. The water’s chill helped to soothe some of that discomfort, but she knew that by morning she would be bruised in places that would make it difficult to wear her corset properly or sit.

Even as the soreness settled in she still felt the scandalous desire to be finished off again. The familiar discomfort was a near-constant reminder that there was something inherently wicked about her, something that a decent girl would never feel. Mama made it clear that no good woman desired such things as she did in the first place, let alone at the frequency and growing desperation at which she endured. It terrified her that just over an hour ago her body was wracked with so much pleasure that it had become more painful than she could stand, had literally made her pass out, and now so soon she would happily have frigged her abused button right there in the open.

She tried to behave, knowing that her God did not approve of the self-gratification she yearned for. God likely didn’t approve of what she did in between the bodies of her father and brother either, but at least she could have a bit of self control when it came to touching herself. In fact that determination to keep her own hands off herself was the reason most nights were spent as that one had been. It was more sinful for them to do such a thing to themselves than it was to rub against each other.  Or at least that’s what her Papa had explained.

Her mother had simply told her that she was to do such carnal things as being penetrated only with her future husband, and that she was never ever permitted to touch herself in a lustful way. Only once, about two years ago, did her mother catch her in the act. Mama had come into her tiny bedroom before sun up to wake her for chores and found her rubbing herself furiously closer and closer to climax, totally unaware that anyone had entered. Mama had slapped her across the face just as she’d tipped over into bliss, the shock of being caught and the painful strike forcing her body to stop all at once and her inner canal to clamp down so hard she had doubled over in agony of having that pleasure ripped away just as it had started. Her mother had dragged her by her hair into the big room her little sisters shared and beaten her senseless with all the younger girls watching on in fright.

“Be that a lesson to every one of you,” Mamma warned the girls while Netty cried in a ball on the bed, her perverse wetness staining the back of her nightgown. “Letting your fingers wander where they don’t belong lets the Devil in! You’ll be just as disgustingly lustful and full of sin as Netty, and just like her no decent man will take you! You’ll be an unwanted spinster past her prime and  still burdening your parents’ generosity with no husband or family of your own. I will not suffer this unholy diddling in my home again. If any of you do such a filthy thing you’ll be put out of this house that very moment.” She turned on Netty then. “And as for you, so much as a flutter of your fingers towards that nasty button of yours and you’ll be sent to the woods.”

While Netty’s sisters were too little to understand what she’d been doing or the true gravity of Mama’s threat to Netty, they took that lesson to heart. So did Netty. Being ‘sent to the woods’ was not a punishment a girl came back from.

After that no matter how badly she burned and dripped and craved to get a bit of relief she would never do it herself. No matter how badly she felt, how angry and sullen, she would not touch. At times the nub was so hard it stuck straight out of her folds and dragged along the inside of her undergarments with the slightest motion. Often she became so drenched she wore menstrual rags to keep the wetness from seeping through her skirts.

Her devastatingly  cross mood lead to the start of what she now did in the wagon most nights. She and Rand were doing chores in the barn alone and she’d been in an awful mood, the torturous need so bad she could think of nothing else, when she snapped at him for some small joke he’d said trying to cheer her up.

“What is wrong with you, Netty?” he’d yelled after her snapping outburst. “How can you be in such a bad mood all the damn time?”

“You’d be upset too if you couldn’t get some relief from this cursed throbbing I’ve had to deal with!” she retorted before she could even try to stop it. Immediately she’d blushed ruby red all the way up to the flaming roots of her hair and couldn’t so much as be turned in Rand’s direction.

“Um… throbbing?” Rand asked, clearly confused. “What kind of throbbing can get you that riled up?”

Netty considered telling him off, that it was none of his business, but she needed to at least talk about it. Maybe speaking about the shameful problem could lessen its effect.

“Don’t go telling anyone!” she warned quietly, turning back to face him. “Not the girls, not Papa, and for the love of all things Holy don’t even think about it in Mama’s presence.”

Rand swore himself to secrecy.

“I know Papa gave you the talk about women, right?” she asked, and he nodded. “Well, the little bump that’s tucked up at the top, it gets as excited as a man’s thing does, but what makes it worse is that the hole where a man’s thing should go isn’t any less excited. Mama caught me rubbing the bump to make it tolerable and nearly beat me to death. If she catches me again she’s going to throw me out of the house or worse. For months now I’ve been stuck with both these dumb places throbbing and demanding attention they can’t have, and the whole thing is about to drive me crazy.”

For a full minute Rand was silent. He stroked his short beard while he thought. Netty was too ashamed to even look at him.

“I think I’ve got an idea,” Rand finally said. “I’ve got a similar issue since Missy Corgen told me to take a hike after harvest. None of the girls will have anything to do with me since then, and I’m plumb sick of waking up every morning with sticky sheets. How about you let me take care of what you and I both need?”

“Rand we can’t go doing anything like that! I can’t find a husband as is; how will I ever find one at all if I’m not in tact?” Netty demanded.

He fluttered a hand at her dismissively. “I’m not saying we’ll do any such thing to make you any less in tact than you are right now. I’m not proposing anything that’ll rob a man you’ve not even met yet of his matrimonial rights.”

Netty’s brain buzzed. She was confused by how he meant to accomplish his offer, but she was becoming more intrigued by the second. A sharp jolt of need snapped through the little button between her legs and she felt its harden little head bob.

“Well… how do you purport to do that?” she asked, a nervous, hopeful twang tinging the words.

Rand looked around, then lead her into one of the empty stalls and closed the door. He unfastened his trousers, then carefully pulled them and his underpants down. She hadn’t seen him naked since they were tiny children swimming in the pond, and hadn’t had cause or curiosity to see what made a boy’s body different from hers at the time. Now though, she couldn’t stop staring. The thing was as almost as long as her forearm from the inside of her elbow to her wrist, and every bit as thick as her wrist too. The head was a dark purplish bulbous heart shape. It was so hard the tightly-pulled skin gleamed.

Startled, she realized she’d stopped breathing, and forced her lungs to inhale.

Rand reached down and grasped the hem of her dress, yanking it and her petticoats up to her chest.

“Hold your skirts so they don’t get any mess on them,” he muttered.

She hugged the thick jumble of fabric against her chest while he undid the ties of her underwear. He pushed her gently against the wall, using one hand to cover her mouth and the other to position himself at the tip of her glistening crevice. She could feel the hot head of him resting against her own hardness and it was all she could do not to buck her hips against him.

“You for sure you wanna do this? Once I start I’m not gonna be able to stop till I’m satisfied weather you want me to or not,” Rand warned. She looked up at him, all wide eyes and pale face. “I won’t go into you, but I’ll have my fill of your slit even if you change your mind halfway.”

 She whimpered. She knew she should back out. She knew that even without penetration they were still about to do something profane.

Netty gave a tiny nod.

One smooth stroke rubbed the entire length of him from tip to base against her nub. The tangled blond hairs around the root of him scratched at her sensitive clit and she couldn’t hold any further. She was flung into a release so violent she screamed against his hand, eyes rolling up in her skull. He gripped her around the ribs with one arm to hold her steady, trapped her knees between his, and jack-hammered himself in the powerful embrace of her thighs.