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Chapter 3

Written by SheilaStretch of SheilaStretch.LegitKink.net
Edited by Mr. S

He turned, and almost as quickly as he’d appeared, was gone again. A column of blinding sunlight flooded in through the opening his tall form had been blocking- she’d never even thought to close it. How could she have been so stupid, she berated herself.

Animated by shock, and without any sort of a plan in mind, Jane scrambled up from the straw and made for the door, trying to give chase. Strands of golden straw that had held fast to her blue skirt and creamy cotton sleeves fluttered and fell away behind her as she tried to go after the young German- but with her corset still bound tight, and her body still weary from her recent exertions, she was quickly out of breath.

By the time she’d made it the barn entrance, Kristopher was already mounted and galloping away, his figure silhouetted by a thick, pale cloud of dust that rose to meet dark clouds gathering over the horizon. Already, the drum of his horse’s hooves was becoming muffled by the rapidly growing distance between them.

For a moment, Jane just stood and watched him go. She almost started to call out after him, but her voice caught in her throat. He was already too far.

Tears began to well up, and roll down her cheeks. Her knees going weak, she rested her back against the barn’s red siding for support and put her hands to her head, wondering if maybe she should just go ahead and lynch herself right there and then to save the townsfolk the trouble.

Maybe she could convince them that Kristopher was crazy… or lying…? She slid down the red, cracked siding into a crouch, and crossed her arms over her knees. Hopelessness and shame swept over her, and she sobbed bitterly into her sleeves till she couldn’t cry any more.

With nothing else she could do, Jane finished the rest of the day’s chores with numb automation as heavy clouds crept in northward from the sea, bringing with them an almost tangible weight in the air.

That evening, after locking up the coop and barn for the night, Jane stood on her porch with a hand on the rail, looking toward Des Allemandes, the town itself hidden by miles of rolling farmland. Cicadas and crickets screamed their shrill songs into the warm night air, but for Jane, it felt as though the world had ground to a halt.

Maybe if it rained that night -she hoped against hope- it would keep the townsfolk away... But the longer she stood there watching and waiting for a just single drop to fall, the heavier the dull, sickening weight in her stomach seemed to grow.

For dinner, she heated a pot of rabbit fricot on her little wood stove, but ended up feeling too sick to eat more than a few bites. She crushed down the vegetables into the meat and sauce so that Clause couldn’t pick around the carrots, then set her plate on the floor, where it was quickly gobbled down.

For the first time in weeks, she didn’t feel like masturbating or fucking Clause before bed- but she couldn’t do much sleeping either. In bed, Jane tossed and turned for hours, planning and rehearsing conversations in her head that she hoped to never have.  When she was awoken, it was by a sound outside, a dull, indistinct murmur which steadily grew until the sound was all too clear to be taken for a trick of the wind, or wild imagination. The dull thud of heels in dust, clothes rustling, the occasional clink of rowel and spur, hushed voices in the night- The townsfolk.

Clause’s fur bristled as a soft orange light began to glow through the front windows, illuminating her small home ever so slightly. Her heart pounded against her ribs like a deafening drum as the porch creaked under the weight of many, many sets of booted feet gathering outside her door.

At first, the knock on the door was light, almost polite. Jane slipped quietly from her bed and gathered a shawl around her shoulders, debating on what to do.

For a moment, she toyed with the idea of simply pretending to be asleep, not answering the door, and hoping they'd just go away- but a heavier, more insistent, and far less friendly pounding on the door began, which perished the thought. The sound filled her with dread.

It took all of her willpower to walk toward it. Gripping the handle of the brass latch, Jane shut her eyes and tried to rehearse the story she'd settled on one last time. Taking a deep breath, she lifted the bolt up, but before she could even move to open the door itself, it exploded inward on its own. A set of rough, calloused farmer's hands reached through the opening and took hold of her wrists.

“We’ve got her!” a deep voice bellowed close to her ear as she was pulled out into the waiting crowd. In the dark of the night, their faces were distorted by the flickering torchlight that licked greedily at the night air.

A second hand grasped the scruff of her nightgown and she was marched forward. She stumbled as she was roughly ushered down the porch steps and landed heavily on her hands and knees in the dust. The crowd pressed in around her as she tried to get to her feet again, but a large hand pressed between her shoulder blades firmly pushed her back down.

“You’re sure she’s the one?”

“Ya, I know vat I saw! It vas her!” Kristopher’s face was hidden in the darkness, and the crowd, but his accent was unmistakable.

“No, please! I-” she sputtered. The story she’d so carefully prepared was deserting her entirely.

“There’s only one way to prove her guilty,” another voice said solemnly. “Bring them."

“Wha…?” the crowd parted and Jane turned to see Mr. Johansen from the farm a mile up the road leading his two black and silvery speckled Catahoula leopard dogs towards her. They were almost invisible in the dark except for their long white legs and chests that caught the flicker of light as they danced closer, excited by the crowd. He bred the dogs and sold them to other farmers for herding and hunting. Even in the dark she recognized these as his two prized sires.

“If she likes it we’ll know she’s guilty,” a gruff voice explained to his neighbor.

“N… no!” It suddenly became clear what they intended to do, and Jane’s confusion was quickly pushed aside by dread. What if she couldn’t control herself? This couldn’t be happening… She tried again to rise to her feet, but each time she did, a hand was on her back to shove her roughly back down. Jane felt herself grow weary and tears started welling up in her eyes. Jeers echoed through the night. A hand pulled her thin nightdress up over her back exposing her to the crowd’s penetrating gaze. She felt completely helpless.“Please don’t! You can’t. Why are you doing this to me?” tears streamed down her face now, disappearing into the soft sand of the yard. She kept pleading and begging until she felt something cold and familiar pressed against her labia, sniffing intently. Panic took full force and she fought with renewed viciousness to stand again, but a hand took hold of her hair at the nap of her neck and jerked her off balance, sending her back to her hands and knees.

When she tried to reach back, the hand yanked her off balance again. It was no use- he held her firmly in place, and now a long, warm tongue darted against her labia, reaching further till he was lapping deeply inside her. She felt the sensations taking over, and tried to suppress a gasp. With no other options, she tried to tilt her face downward, afraid that she might give herself away.

An expectant silence spread over the crowd. Maybe she could hold it together, she thought desperately. Maybe they’d think they’d made a terrible mistake and she’d be let free. Jane desperately tried to stifle her noises as the dog ravaged her from behind with its tongue.

Jane realized the futility of her hope the moment the dog mounted, stabbing uncomfortably at her thighs with his pointy tip, each time slightly closer to his target.

“No! Noooo! Not-! Don’t-! Noooo!” she cried as he thrust wildly at her rump, but it was too late. The experienced breeding beast all-too-quickly found its mark, and she felt its slimy warmth thrust deep inside her. Panic was almost instantaneously replaced with mind blowing pleasure as the warm member entered her and started to throb as hot, watery spurts of dog semen began to fill her. She felt the familiar sensation of his slick member growing longer and thicker as it thrust in and out of her- his knot pressing insistently against her entrance until her hole gave way and accepted it all the way in. “No. No!” she gasped as he filled her hole. A small, logical part at the back of her mind hoped that replacing her moans of lust and ecstasy with please for mercy would perhaps fool her audience.

She dug her fingernails into the sand and felt the grains up under her nails, as hot spurts of canine semen filled her hole at an alarming speed. “No! Please! Don’t!” each word was punctuated as she gasped though the unwanted ecstasy. Dog semen began well up inside her, flooding her. It dripped and leaked out of her used hole, rolling down her thighs. The creamy liquid cooled quickly in the night air as it made its slow torturous journey down to her knee where it trickled and pooled beneath her. It was nearly impossible to hold herself together, clenching her teeth and eyes shut against the overwhelming sensations.

“I think she likes it!” a man announced with a clear note of disgust.

The crowd stirred. Jane could hear a mixture of outrage, and disgust. The dog’s thrusts slowed, and he began trying to turn around, his knot tugging at her entrance from within. The man holding her hair let go and went to help the dog get his leg over her back.

Her nipples were like rocks. There, on all fours in front of the crowd, with a strange dog and its bulbous knot turned and tied in her, Jane felt as if she could pin point each and every drop of doggie cum as it dribbled and collected on her mound, then dripped from her labia and down her thighs, slowly and deliciously. It was amazing.

She shuddered and failed to stifle a cry of obvious pleasure as the dog finally pulled it's throbbing knot loose, causing a massive orgasm to ripple through her helpless form. Cum dribbled from her hole, and tears rolled down her face and gathered in the fabric of her sleeves. She’d failed. Now the whole town knew what kind of a monster she was.

The glow of orgasm faded away as reality began to set in again- and with it, a rising sense of fear. She'd already given herself away, so what now? She was fucked.

“Let’s set another one on her, just to make sure!” someone in the crowd suggested. The suggestion was met with a murmur of... uncertain agreement.

She turned to see the dog behind her approaching, and saw that he was already aroused, probably from the musky scent of sex that lingered in the warm night air. His tail wagged furiously, and his tongue lolled as he looked expectantly from person to person. The crowd pressed in around her, shrouded in shadows and flickering orange torchlight. She felt the sand under her palms and knees, and the hot wet breath of the next panting dog as he began to investigate her already sloppy hole.

He sniffed and licked experimentally while she trembled, both frightened and excited. Really, things couldn't get any worse, could they? The dog’s tongue quickly found the other’s cum in her used and still dripping hole. He began assaulting her labia with his rough, moist tongue, then lapped at the rivulets that had trailed down her thighs.

He soon came back, searching her (already slightly gaping) hole for more. Again, Jane struggled to keep quiet as his tongue tortured her labia in long, firm laps, and like before, she was completely unable to stifle her lustful moans and gasps as his tongue delved inside her.

When he mounted, she couldn’t help but tilt her hips to give him easier access. He found her much faster than the first dog had, and as he grew inside her, his hot semen began to spurt, quickly mixing with the load that the other had left inside her.

When she felt the forbidden, bestial semen beginning to trickle out of her and down her thighs again, Jane lost it.

The sensation was completely overwhelming; she felt like her organs would explode as he continued to fill her endlessly. Too far gone to care any longer, she  lifted a hand to reach back and  find the little nub of flesh that would send her over the edge. Even in front of all these people- she couldn't stop herself. Not anymore.

Droplets of cum dripped from her mound, crept along her fingers and dribbled from her wrist. Another moan escaped her lips and her muscles contracted involuntarily as her body shook with another orgasm. 

“Guilty!” a gruff voice announced triumphantly. The condemnation only seemed to spur her orgasm as her fingers continued their assault- and suddenly she was back in her room, her breath still short, and hands still right where they'd been in the all-to-realistic dream. Nightmare, she corrected herself.

The tears were real too. She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her nightgown and found that she had soaked her pillow through. As she flipped it over to hide the wet patch, snippets of dream floated back to her.

Jane reached down between her legs to find that she was wet. Very wet. Maybe wetter than she’d even been. She brought her hand to her face and marveled at the clear, delicate strands of her own juices that formed between her fingers tips as she separated them. She could still feel her hormones raging within her, her face still flushed as her breath continued to slow from its earlier fevered peak. What was wrong with her? She sucked her juices from her fingers, then tentatively touched the back of her head, where the man in her dream had been holding her hair. It almost felt sore…

The next morning she spent her time numbly doing her chores and waiting for the hammer to fall; for the sheriff or priest to come, or the dreaded mob of disgusted citizens from her… nightmare. She'd decided that was what it was.

Four black and white specked hens pecked at the chaff that fell at her feet as she dumped that day’s ration of feed into the cow’s trough. For the past month she’d prayed for rain to break the drought that hung over the county and sucked the life from the land. Now she saw rainfall in the distance to the north and west, but directly overhead the clouds split wide, sending a shaft of bright light over her farm like a beacon welcoming whoever would surely come to punish her.

Lunch time rolled around and she kneaded some dough, forcing herself to nibble at the leftover roll of cornbread that she'd made yesterday morning. Her appetite was still weak, but she reasoned that if she was going out, she might as well have her favorite pie as a last meal. She just hoped that the townsfolk would give her enough time to get to enjoy it...

Jane left the dough to rise, and picked up the last bite or so of cornbread. After a moment of struggling to finish a bite -the dryness made it almost impossible to swallow- she offered the piece to Clause. He snapped it up enthusiastically, and followed her, tail wagging, as his mistress picked up a brown, wicker basket and went to gather eggs from the coop.

As she gently placed two brown, speckled eggs into her basket, the sound of hooves somewhere outside the coop caught her attention. For a moment, she considered running away, but realized that it would only make her look guilty. She decided that her only real option was to stand her ground and try to appear as convincingly disgusted, outraged, and bewildered as possible.

 It had been so long since one of her sisters had tried tattling on her that she genuinely feared she might not be able to pull off a convincing lie... Of course, the first step was to look completely calm- completely calm and normal. She took a deep breath, put on her sweetest face, rested the egg basket on the coop floor, and stepped out, into the darkening yard.

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