Breaking Her Innocence

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Breaking Her Innocence Page 2

by Madison Faye


  I looked down at myself and sighed as I let my hands drift over my body. I shivered as I brought my hands up my torso, up higher to cup the soft, creamy skin of my breasts. My fingers ran lightly up the curve, until I gasped as they rolled over my pink nipples.

  Mr. Pike’s wandering eyes had felt icky, and uncomfortable. But the way his two helpers had looked at me — well, that was something else.

  That was something entirely new to me, and I had to say, I liked it.

  A lot.

  I’d never gotten looks like that. Sure, I’d gotten the odd lingering leer from boys at school, but the farm boys from the one-room schoolhouse had never remotely interested me. I’d even gone on a date, once, with Bobby Mitchell, who’s pa knew my Uncle Jim. Bobby had taken me to a drive-in a few towns over, which was fun and all, until his hands started to reach for more than popcorn. He’d gotten under my shirt and over my bra before I’d asked him quietly to stop and drive me home.

  That was literally the entirety of my experience when it came to sex.

  I sighed as I brought my hands up over the soft curves of my breasts, letting my fingers tease over the nipples rapidly hardening at their peaks. I could feel the heat and the slippery wet feeling between my legs, and I grinned shyly as I let one hand drop down there. My fingers pushed through the soft, downy patch of light hair covering me there. I pushed my finger lower, and moaned as it moved over my clit, bringing a little shiver to my body.

  I stopped myself from going further just yet, as hard as it was. Instead, I moved to the darkest corner of the little space and pulled the oilcloth cover from the piece of machinery there, and my breath caught a little bit with excitement.

  The machine was a milk agitator, which Uncle Jim used to use back when we were making cheese to sell. But in the slow decline, we’d left off that part of the business, and the machine had sat around in the barn since we’d no more use for it.

  Oh, but I’d found a use for it.

  Feeling the throb in my pussy, I grabbed the thin blanket from the back of the stall door and draped it over the flat, low top of the machine. Feeling my heart pounding, I turned and hopped up, scooting my bare butt back so that I was sitting astride the machine with my legs dangling. I felt my pulse jump and I reached back and found the on button, and with a giddy gasp, I pushed it.

  I moaned instantly, louder than I’d meant to as the machine rumbled to life between by thighs. Oh goodness, did that feel good. I’d discovered this by accident, when I’d bumped into the machine while trying to clean up back here, but I’d certainly learned quickly how perfect it was.

  My brow furrowed as I brought my hand back up to my breasts, squeezing them and pulling at my nipples as the machine hummed and rumbled between my legs. The pulsing, vibrating waves went crashing through my body, and especially through my pussy, and I gasped and moaned as I ground my pelvis down onto the machine top. I brought two fingers back down to my slit and let them press against my little button, rubbing it in slow circles as the machine hummed beneath me. I threw my head back as I bucked against the vibrations, rubbing my clit and pulling and pinching my nipples as I gasped into the dark stillness of the barn.

  My mind wandered to the handsome, built, rough and sexy cowboys from earlier and I groaned. I pictured it was one of them — maybe the slightly taller of the two with the darker hair vibrating and bucking between my legs, or maybe the one with the sandier hair and the broader shoulders, holding me tight as the vibrations crashed through my body.

  I sometimes came out here when I need to play with myself like this, but there was just something about tonight that seemed more — like I just needed it more desperately than I’d ever needed that release before. I felt like I could feel everything more tonight as the memory of those two sets of piercing blue eyes and rugged faces crept through my thoughts.

  The rumbling vibrations were radiating through me like caresses — like hands rubbing and massaging every inch of my body and making me feel so good! I thought of one of the cowboys, and then the other, and then back to the first, repeating this again and again and loving how dirty it felt.

  But then, I stopped switching. In my head, suddenly it wasn’t one man or the other, it was both rough and gorgeous country men taking me at the same time.

  The thought was so utterly filthy and so dirty, but it sent what felt like lightening sizzling through my body. I bit my lip and rocked my hips forward, and as my little button pressed down against the soft blanket over the top of the rumbling machine, I went off like a shot. I threw my head back and arched my back as I bucked and moaned against the top of the machine, thinking only of the two men taking me together and rubbing my clit against it as my climax hit me like a ton of bricks.

  Fumbling around behind me for the button, I shut it off with a rumble and a sigh from my lips as I collapsed panting and gasping onto the machine.

  Eventually, I got up and straightened everything out and slipped my nightgown back over myself. I shivered as the cloth made contact with my still tingly, erect little nipples and made me moan. Just the simple feeling of my clothes touching my breasts made me want to jump back on the machine.

  I was exhausted though, so with a last hungry look at the milk agitator, I slipped back to the house and back to my bed.

  My dreams were just as dirty.

  3

  Roman

  “Think fast.”

  I glanced up, and my hand jerked up on instinct to catch the beer Colt chucked my way.

  “Thanks for shaking it up, dick.”

  My buddy grinned at me as he cracked the top of his own can. His boots thumped across the floor of the bunk-house porch as he strode over and plopped into the chair next to me.

  “Cheers, hombre.”

  I was quiet as I tapped my beer to his and then opened it, frowning at the hiss and froth of foam that dribbled over my hand.

  “Fucker.”

  Colt chuckled and sipped his beer, and I did the same to mine, easing back in the chair and kicking my boots up on the railing. The rolling Montana hills stretched out in front of us, the stars glinting up above, and the cool night air breezing over us.

  Shit, couldn’t complain about the view, that’s for sure.

  “Weird day, huh?”

  I nodded.

  “She doesn’t know what the fuck is about to happen to her, does she?”

  I shook my head. “Sure as hell didn’t look like it.”

  Colt swore. “Fuck this shit, man. This ain’t what we signed up for.”

  “Funny, I don’t remember signing up for shit.”

  Because we hadn’t. Our “employment” by Jedidiah Pike was less “employment” and more “indentured servitude.” We worked because we’d been in a hole with the wrong people. And since those people had business ties with Jeb and his operations, a deal was struck. We worked for him in exchange for our debt getting paid off.

  Slowly.

  We knew what the “operations” were when we’d walked into this, of course, but it’d been a little different when we’d started. Jeb’s business was girls — specifically, training girls to be the perfect playthings for the rich and powerful. Now, that’s a sordid business no matter how you shake it, but when we’d first come on as help, the girls came willingly. These were failed actresses, models, and all manner of pretty young women who needed cash and were willing to be matched with men of a certain means who were looking for a companion. It wasn’t hooking — I mean, not really. Jeb paid the girls, the men paid Jeb, and if a client and a girl hit it off, that was that. They’d leave Jeb’s ranch here in Montana to go off and live the life of luxury as arm candy to the elite at European casinos, and lavish Caribbean resorts, and wherever the fuck else rich guys brought hot girls they paid to fuck them.

  Then things changed.

  The clientele got shadier, and more interested in certain darker tastes. To some of these fucking guys, it wasn’t enough to have some girl under their employ to spread their legs on their yach
ts, they needed more of a challenge — more of a power status. I guess maybe the thinking was that any rich guy could buy a pretty girl, but it took a man of power to make one his.

  Fuck that.

  That wasn’t power, not to me. That was cowardice and weakness, and it’d rubbed Colt and I raw when we’d found out the new direction Jeb was taking things. We’d wanted to walk away right then and there, but a debt was a debt, and ours wasn’t the kind you walked away from.

  At least, not if you wanted to keep your fucking head attached to your neck.

  The girl that day, out at that farm, was exactly the sort of shit I hated.

  She wasn’t coming to Jeb knowingly, and willingly accepting what this was going to be. She was a bargaining chip. I wasn’t sure if her uncle knew what the fuck was in store for her, but I knew enough about how Jeb operated to know the guy couldn’t have been totally clueless. At the end of the day, the man was selling his niece to Jeb and a life of sexual servitude so he could keep his piddly little farm.

  That’s some cold shit right there.

  I knew something was up the second we pulled up that long dusty drive to that farm. And I definitely knew it the second she walked around the corner of the barn.

  Fuck.

  She was too innocent. Too young, too pure, to unsullied to be the kind of girl who went looking for high-paying sugar daddies. Nope, this was the other side of things — the shadier, darker, fucked up side. Jeb hadn’t told Colt or I the details when we’d ridden with him that day, but I know we both knew what was up the second we saw her.

  She was about to be sold, and she had no idea what was coming her way. She had no idea the ways Jeb would try and break her, and use her, and twist her into this perfect little fuck-toy for some fat old guy with more money than charm.

  “Whoa, easy.”

  I blinked away the red mist clouding my eyes as I turned to see Colt looking at me sharply. He nodded at the half-crushed beer can in my head, and I blinked.

  “Sorry.”

  I unclenched, beer froth dripping down my wrist.

  “It’s her, isn’t it?”

  I looked down.

  Her, as in the girl on the farm that day. The fresh-faced, totally innocent, totally knockout girl standing there in her jeans and plaid shirt. I mean she was dressed for mucking out a fucking barn and she still looked stunning. Chestnut hair, full, pouty lips, legs for days and those crystal blue eyes. She looked scared, and sheltered, and like the kind of girl who had no fucking clue the effect she had on men around her.

  Hell, she made a man want to lay claim is what she did. She made a man — this man, for sure — want to take that innocence and make it his own. I turned to look at my friend, seeing the same shadowed, faraway musing look in his own eyes, and I knew damn well he was thinking the same thing.

  “Fuck, she’s a pretty one,” Colt murmured, sipping his beer.

  “Perfect.”

  “This ain’t no place for a girl like her.” Colt’s jaw tensed, his eyes narrowing on the horizon. “Fuck, man, I can’t be a part of this—”

  “We have to be a part of this,” I hissed, my hand clenching the can again. “You know damn well I want no part of this either, but you know the terms.”

  Colt spat off the porch. “Terms my ass. You mean how Jeb fuckin’ owns us?”

  I glared at him. I fucking hated when he put it like that, no matter how much truth there was to it.

  “Sorry,” he muttered.

  I shook my head. “You ain’t wrong.”

  “So what’s the plan? What’s the move here?”

  I sighed and tilted my beer back, taking a large swallow. “She’s not escaping this. I mean, she’ll be here soon, and when she gets here, that fucker is going to break her. He’s going to tear that angel down until she’s some groveling little sex-toy.”

  Colt stood abruptly, hissing before suddenly whirling and slamming his fist into the wooden side of the bunkhouse. He swore immediately, roaring and shaking his hand out as the rage billowed across his face.

  I grinned wryly at him. “Feel better?”

  “Not really.” He grabbed a fresh beer from the cooler and winced as he laid it against his knuckles.

  “None of that we’re going to be able to stop, but we can make it better for her.”

  Colt glanced up at me.

  “If Jeb and his guys get ahold of her, they’re going to destroy her. A girl like that? Shit, if she’s even had one roll in the hay with whatever pimple-faced farm boys she’s got in that podunk town, I’ll be shocked. Letting Jeb and his boys at her would be like throwing meat to the fucking wolves.”

  Colt met my eyes, and slowly, he nodded.

  “Us.”

  I nodded back. “We can’t let it be Jeb. No fuckin’ way.”

  “You’re saying we have to be the ones to break her in. We gotta be her handlers when she gets here.”

  “It’s us or him and his guys.”

  “No fucking way.”

  “Then you know what we’ve gotta do.”

  Colt nodded as he exhaled heavily and sank back into his chair. He reached into the cooler and grabbed a beer, passing it my way before cracking the one he’d had on his bruised hand.

  “When that angel comes to this ranch,” I said slowly, in a measured tone. “She’s going to be ours. If we want to save her?”

  I glanced over and met my best friend’s eyes.

  “If we want to save her, we’ve gotta break her.”

  4

  Johanna

  “Of course you let them drive away.”

  Peggy signed, shaking her head at me.

  “Two cute guys lookin’ at you, and you don’t do a dang thing about it. Typical Jo.”

  I chewed on my lip, looking down from the hay loft at the barn floor beneath our swinging feet. The Nathansons were the closest thing my aunt and uncle had to neighbors, and out of pure geography and the fact that we were about the same age, their daughter Peggy and I hung out from time to time. I was smart enough to know that Peggy wasn’t a friend, but there wasn’t a whole of people lining up for that role being so isolated out on the farm, and sometimes, having someone to talk to that wasn’t my uncle, my aunt, or my cousins was a nice break.

  Jim and Mary didn’t really like me hanging around with Peggy, for good reason. Peggy was what you’d call a “bad influence” — she wore a bit less than she ought to have, she’d gotten one of those lower back tattoos that she loved showing off, and she smoked cigarettes. In fact, that’s why we were in her barn, so she could smoke without her Ma yelling at her. The latest scandal involving Peggy Nathanson had been a few months before, right after graduation, when her Pa had caught eighteen-year-old Peggy in this very barn with one of the new ranch hands they’d hired for the summer.

  I’d been too scandalized to listen to the details when she’d gleefully told me, but I knew it hadn’t involved a whole lot of clothes.

  Her folks had thrown a fit, rightfully, and that was the end of Peggy going off to the local state college. Hey, on the bright side, at least I had someone my own age around to talk to, even if she was a horrible influence.

  “Well what was I going to do, go up and kiss two good looking guys just because they looked at me nicely?”

  Peggy snorted. “Who said anything about kissing? If they were as cute as you’re sayin’, I’d have just dropped to my knees and—”

  “Okay, okay.” I wrinkled my nose and quickly shook my head.

  Peggy laughed. “You know, I was almost looking forward to you maybe finding a way to go to college so you could let loose a little.”

  “I don’t need to let loose.”

  “Um, please, yes you do. You need to get out there, wear something sexy for once instead of overalls—”

  “Overalls work perfectly well for work.”

  “Farm work, not the kinda work where you go out to a bar, bat your eyes at some hot cowboy, and then ride him like a bull in the back of his truck in the parking
lot.”

  I blushed bright red and looked down. “I’m not— I mean, I’m not like—”

  “Like me?” Peggy snorted. “Your loss.”

  She handed me a cigarette, but I quickly shook my head.

  “I mean God damn, Jo, how the hell are you nineteen and a virgin? Hell, how do you even live?”

  I scowled. “I live just fine, thank you very much. I just think there are more important things for me to concentrate on.”

  “You’re wrong, there aren’t. What are you, waiting for Mr. Right or somethin’? Jo, I’m telling you, you need to get bullshit like that out of your head. Go find Mr. Right Now, walk up, grab that big cowboy cock right through his jeans and tell him you want him to fuck the virgin right out of you.”

  “Peggy!” I gasped, feeling my face burn as she just laughed, choking on her cigarette smoke.

  I was immediately regretting telling her about the two handsome cowboys from the day before. And she was wrong, anyways. It’s not like I’d been waiting around for some movie Prince to ride up to the farm and sweep me away. I mean hell, I had had urges and all that, it’s just that there’d never been an opportunity. None of the boys in school had ever even remotely interested me, and it’s not like Jim and Mary had the money to hire ranch hands like Peggy’s folks — as if I would ever have done what she had. If the Nathanson’s only kid had been a boy instead of Peggy, well, yeah — I’d have probably seen what all the fuss was about a long time ago.

  The fact was, I’d just never been given the option or the opportunity.

  “I think I should go.”

  “Aww, c’mon, Jo. Don’t be a prude about it.”

  “I’m not,” I said primly. “I just have chores that need doing and things to do before I leave.”

 

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