A Peasant Girl – Chaper 11

“I take it she’s dead then,” said Sergei Ivanovich without emotion. Anna said nothing; her mouth was full of her father’s erection, and she was praying for death. “Took the whore long enough; I thought I was never going to be able to come back home. Lucky chance she went before I showed up tonight. That ungrateful prick of a son of mine was driving me insane with his possessiveness. I brought him into the world, by God, and what is his should rightfully be mine, but he won’t let me share that pretty young wife of his. Claims that I’ve got you all to myself, so I shouldn’t get greedy.” Her father laughed harshly, then put a hand on her head to force himself deeper into her mouth. “I would trade you to him in a second if I thought he’d take you. That bitch of his still has the fear in her, makes her squeal like a stuck pig. But you’re a better fuck, Anna my darling.” Anna said nothing, and Sergei Ivanovich laughed again. “Obedient little bitch, just like your mother. It’s too bad she died; I never got a chance to make the two of you have at it. That would have livened up our lives, now wouldn’t it, little Anna? But still, I’ll get my amusement out of you yet. Fuck, it’s getting me off just thinking about it.”

So saying, he grabbed Anna by the hair began pumping his hard shaft down her throat, ignoring her feeble moans and choking. “Nice of you to greet me with no kit on too,” he grunted, thrusting. “That’s the way a father wants to be met at the door. St. Pavel, get ready for it girl!” He pulled her back and pumped his fist on his cock, spewing a fountain of white jism over Anna’s face and breasts. “Ah, that hits the spot,” he said finally as the spurting slowed. “Clean it off, there’s a good girl.”

Anna obediently licked her father’s rapidly deflating cock clean, then without being told, she gathered up the spunk from her face and breasts with her fingers and swallowed it as well.

“May I get dressed now, father,” she asked, eyes down, still kneeling.

“Shit girl, what do I care?” he said offhandedly. “Put some food on the table too; I’m starved.”


With Anna’s mother dead and Noor disappeared, Anna was alone in the house with her father. By day she did chores, more chores than ever before, and naked so she wouldn’t dirty any clothes. Her father had business in town many days, which Anna prayed for, but when he was home he seemed more insatiable than before. He demanded to be awakened each day with an orgasm, although he generally settled for Anna’s oral ministrations to make that happen. Then if he was at home during the day, he would seek her out every few hours, bend her over a rail or haul her up onto a stool, and take her quickly, mostly in her cunt but sometimes in her ass for a change of pace. At night, Anna had moved into the master bedroom and slept in the corner, where she could be wakened once or twice and made to satisfy whatever urges Sergei Ivanovich had that night.

Then Anna’s bleeding began in earnest. When it first began, she thought that it was because she had been injured inside from all the penetration, but her father laughed cruelly and told her it was nothing. Anna had bled before, each month, but only a little bit, whereas now she seemed to have truly become a woman. Her father began avoiding her during her periods, leaving her to walk around the farm naked, occasionally squatting to piss and feeling the redness ooze out. “I only want your mouth when you bleed,” he explained to her. “Don’t want to get Little Sergei dirty, now do we?” Anna looked forward to these times because it gave her a chance to heal. She knew that now she was in even greater danger of getting pregnant every time a man came inside her, and this explained to her why her father began fucking her cunt less frequently and pulling out of her to cum when he did tire of her ass.


In the summer, Ilona became pregnant, and Sergei Ivanovich sent Anna to town every week to help her brother.