Trust Me (62 page)

#2
spanked
my
butt
several
times,
then
my
breasts,
pulling
them
hard
and
twisting
my
nipples.
It
was
painful,
but
I
liked
it; I
liked
it
even
more
when
he
pulled
out
of
me
and
forced
me
to
face
the
barn,
pushing
his
penis
into
my
vagina
from
behind,
his
fingers
thrusting
into
my
anus.
It
was
exciting,
thrilling
and
painful,
but
the
more
he
did
it,
the
more
he
spanked
me
the
more
I
liked
it.
I
begged
him
to
be
rougher,
harder,
and
he
obliged.

When
he
finished
with
me,
I
was
exhausted
and
panting.
I
experienced
my
first
orgasm
through
penetration
and
not
foreplay.
I
never
knew
such
a
thing
could
happen,
and
I
was
eager
to
tell
Buddy
about
it.
I
guess
#2
suspected
that
I
would
say
something,
because
he
slapped
me
across
the
face
then
grabbed
me
by
the
hair
and
threw
me
hard
against
the
ground.
He
held
me
down,
his
knee
pressed
into
my
back,
and
he
told
me
if
I
said
anything
to
anyone,
including
Buddy,
he
would
tell
my
father
what
I
had
been
doing.
I
didn’t
doubt
him;
he
was
not
a
nice
bloke,
not
like
Buddy.

The
next
day
after
my
father
left
for
town; two
boys
from
a
nearby
farm
arrived,
twins
I
knew
from
school.
They
said
#2
had
told
them
that
I
liked
to
play,
and
they
were
there
to
have
some
fun.
It
was
fun; I
had
never
had
two
before
then,
and
I
had
no
idea
the
great
joy
it
could
bring.
I
soon
found
myself
the
local
toy
for
all
the
young
boys.
It
wasn’t
bad,
though.
At first,
I
was
really
afraid,
but
soon
I
was
experiencing
sex
in
more
manners
than
I
ever
knew
I
could.
I
was
having
fun
with
them
all,
learning
new
techniques
in
oral
sex,
foreplay
and
masturbation.
I
even
had
one
boy
who
usually
got
his
thrills
with
his
sheep
come
over.
He
liked
anal
sex,
which
I
discovered
was
not
a
horrible
thing.

I
still
had
sex
with
Buddy,
but
when
he
was
away
doing
chores,
I
always
had
another
boy
ready
and
waiting.
It
was
exciting,
and
I
discovered
very
quickly
that
I
could
not
seem
to
get
enough
sex.
I
was
addicted
to
orgasms; they
were
all
I
thought
about; I
dreamed
about
it; I
craved
it,
and
I
hungered
for
it.
When
I
wasn’t
having
sex
with
one
of
the
boys,
I
was
having
it
alone.
Once
school
started,
I
found
myself
in
the
boy’s
bathroom
or
the
locker
room
on a daily basis
being
shagged
by
boys
of
all
ages
and
sizes.
Orgasms
were
my
drug
of
choice
and
like
an
addict;
I
would
do
anything
to
have
it.

When
my
grades
began
to
slip,
my
father
insisted
on
having
a
tutor,
so
he
hired
the
local
smart
kid.
Once
I
realized
that
I
could
exchange
sex
for
homework,
I
found
my
grades
skyrocketing.
I
had
no
clue
what
the
classes
were
all
about;
all
I
knew
was
that
I
was
having
fun.
I
even
had
two
teachers
willing
to
slip
me
the
answers
to
the
tests,
if
I
met
up
with
them
in
the
faculty
wardrobe.

Buddy
was
still
my
first
choice
of
boys,
though
he
wasn’t
able
to
come
around
as
much
as
I
would
have
preferred.
Because
his
older
brothers
were
at
university,
he
had
more
chores
to
do
around
the
family
farm.
We
did
manage
to
find
time
a
few
days
a
week
for
our
own
private
sessions.
He
was
so
kind
and
gentle,
and
after
being
shagged
by
nearly
every
boy
in
the
county
and
in
many
ways
and
places,
it
was
nice
to
relax
and
have
a
normal
boy
for
a
change.
Unfortunately,
Buddy
and
I
were
not
to
last
long.

One
Sunday
close
to
Christmas
my
father
saw
the
footprints
in
the
snow
that
lead
to
the
old
barn.
It
could
have
been
anyone
that
day,
any
of
the
local
boys,
but
it
was
Buddy.
We
had
just
finished
up
in
the
hayloft
when
the
door
opened.
Buddy
had
pulled
his
boots
back
on,
when
we
heard
my
father’s
angry
voice
shouting
for
me.
I
thought
if
I
went
down
and
told
him
I
was
studying
in
private,
that
he
would
just
get
furious
and
order
me
into
the
house,
but
he
had
seen
the
different-sized
footprints
and
saw
where
one
set
came
from.
He
dragged Buddy
out
of
the
barn
and
into
the
snow
and
began
beating
him
with
the
reigns
for
his
horse.