II
I knew what a blowjob was, and I suddenly knew what he wanted. He was on me then, and that’s when I saw his pants were already open. His thing was out looking pale and squishy. He got me by the hair, but I was still fighting him. I didn’t scream. I fought him as quietly as I could.
You’re probably wondering why I didn’t scream for Mom? Well, for a little while leading up to that, Mom had been accusing me of teasing my brothers. She didn’t mean making fun of them or anything. She meant I was doing it with my body. She said I was flaunting my body and trying to get them aroused. No, I wasn’t. It’s not my fault I’m developing so fast.
Even though summer had come and it was hot, I wore loose shirts so my breasts didn’t show so much, hand me downs from when Bowe and Creed were little. And, I always wore a bra. I knew my pants were too tight, but they weren’t last year and Mom wouldn’t let me get more saying they cost too much. It’s not my fault my hips got wider. You might wonder why I didn’t wear a dress more often. There’s not much ranch work that can be done in a dress. I had to ride to check on the cattle as often as my brothers. Plus, the one nice dress I had was also too tight, and the last time I wore it I got looks from boys, and not just boys, men too.
She was right about one thing though. Both my brothers looked at me a lot, at my butt in the tight pants and tried look inside my shirt if I bent over. They tried to catch me dressing too and peeked in the outhouse. I’d have to look and see what holes they made before I went and plugged them with something. And yeah, in this day and age we were so poor we still only had indoor plumbing for the kitchen. Even the bathtub had to be filled with buckets of water from the kitchen. The water was heated on the stove and got cold quick in winter.
I kept twisting my head away from it, and Bowe kept trying to get his fingers in my mouth to force it open. I figured if I kept fighting he would quit and go back to his room. I was wrong. He got really mad, and then he slapped me hard across the face. It wasn’t how the slap stung my face that scared me, it was how loud it was. I was afraid Mom would hear and come in my room. I knew she would blame me for all this saying I was leading Bowe on.
I fought him for a few more seconds, but then he raised his hand to slap me again. At that point, I just relaxed in his grip. I was so terrified Mom would hear and come in. He used his fingers to force my mouth open, and I heard myself whimper. He got it pushed in my mouth, and then the sweaty taste of it hit me. I really wish Bowe would take more baths. He and Creed both stunk from working and only seemed to bathe when Mom made them. And they wondered why no girl wanted to be with them?
Once Bowe got his thing in my mouth, I thought about biting it. But then that thought scared me, because I knew he would beat me bad, and I knew it would be me not him in trouble. I just kind of whimpered around it while he thrust it in my mouth. And then Bowe grunted, “Suck on it you stupid squaw, or this is going to take all night.”
My brothers called me squaw because I looked so much like a Native American girl. Mom said it too sometimes. It was meant as an insult.
I guess I just gave up at that point, because I did like he said and started sucking on it. It was awful and nasty, and he kept pushing it in way too deep making me heave and almost get sick. I’m not sure how long it took, but it sure seemed like forever. I guess that I’d never done it before, plus I really didn’t want to do it, made it last long that first time. I thought he’d never stop pushing it in my mouth, and then he abruptly stopped.
I was always good in science including biology, so I knew what happens when a male ejaculates. I guess I thought Bowe would pull it out of my mouth when that happened, but he didn’t. I wasn’t expecting anything I guess, so when that slimy mess spurted in my throat, I got really sick. We really only use the bedpans in winter, but there was still one under my bed. I’m not sure how I was able to hold it back and crawl under my bed and get it in time, but I did and puked my guts out into the bed pan. I didn’t even hear Bowe leave my room.
Bowe was back in the morning. I didn’t fight him so much this time. He was going to get what he wanted anyway, and he knew and I knew I would still be afraid to tell. I begged him not to do it in my mouth again, let it spurt there. I said he could do it on the floor, and I’d clean it up after. Bowe is just mean that way, and he went ahead and did it in my mouth again. I spit some of it in the bedpan, but most of it just went down. I didn’t puke this time, but I wanted to.
I avoided Bowe all that day, and I knew he looked for me a few times. I knew what he would make me do if he found me. I couldn’t avoid him at night though, and he was back there in my bedroom that evening. He had it out aimed at my face, and I stared at it hatefully. He got his hands in my hair hurting bumping it against my lips, and I just gave up and opened my mouth. I sucked on it while he humped my face. I started to sense when it was coming and tried to pull back. Bowe is just mean. He pushed it deep and held my head hard while it spurted. He told me he wasn’t letting go of my head until I swallowed it all down. He’s just mean.
When Bowe did let go of my head and stepped away, Creed was there waiting with his thing out. I guess Bowe told him. I heard myself whimper and could feel tears streaming down my face, but I didn’t resist when Creed shoved it in my mouth. So, I sucked on his too, and just like Bowe he held my head until he could feel me swallow it. Both my brothers are mean.
That’s how it started. I kept trying to think of a way to make it stop, but it went on and on. I learned not to catch them with my teeth. They would gut punch me if I did. It was where the bruises wouldn’t show. It became as often as 3 or 4 times a day for both of them. My mouth got real tired the first couple weeks of that, but then I guess I just got used to doing it.
I suppose you’re wondering what else they did? They played with my breasts a lot, pinching and twisting them. My breasts were still growing and really sensitive, and both of them figured that out touching them all the time and make fun of me when my nipples got hard. That first week Bowe tried to stick his fingers in my crotch, but I clamped my legs shut and threatened him. I told them both I really would tell if they did anything below the waist.
Bowe and Creed never let up, never gave me a break from it. And they were nasty about it too, making fun of me talking about how much of their cum I must have swallowed by now, and answering each other about how it must be gallons by now and laughing about it.
I kept telling myself there was worse things they could do. I lived in terror of that. I learned to suck their dicks as best I could, so they wouldn’t try anything else. I also figured out the better I did it, the quicker it was over. I just didn’t know how to make it stop, so I kept doing it for them.
