Amish Girl: Raped By A Goat_(0)

The roster wakes me up and I’m quick to roll. Repositioning under the thin sheets, I toss them to the side, jump to my feet and drudge across my carpet flooring in nothing but a pair of white and a nightgown.
I pull my blonde bangs from across my eyes and tie my hair in a ponytail, walk through the trail of thrown out clothes and trinkets on my bedroom floor where I head for my door and shut it. My door adorned with glitter, pink stars and more stickers spelling out my name “Carrie” in a cute way.

Walking through the hallway of our house, I make it to the back door then walk into the laundry, get in my rubber boots and tromp out the door into the warm morning air. It’s still dark outside, but the moonlight lights my way and I don’t bother turning on the back porch light. I head for the back pastures and am greeted by all the farm animals, eagerly waiting to be fed.

We live out in the sticks, in the middle of no where, so far out John and me have to wake up thirty minutes early just so we can walk a mile to get to school. Even that is a dirt road. We have no neighbors, and because of that I can walk around in just about nothing without the worry of anyone seeing, besides my family members.

It’s Saturday today, meaning no school.

First we have the pigs, nasty fat stinking porkers I don’t even go near. They are John’s, my little brother’s pigs that he takes to shows and 4-H events, he, younger than me by two years, me being seventeen. Then there’s the four cows and two horses which belong to my Mom and Dad. The chickens belong to everyone, we keep them for the eggs. And then there are the ten Bush goats. Mom keeps them to sell the babies and to butcher the younger ones, when the meat is tender.

My job is to feed the cows, horses and goats. Johns job to feed his pigs and the chickens, he’s a bit of a lazy slob, so Mom and Dad didn’t give him much to do in the morning, I meanwhile want to hurry up and get my chores through with so I can get back to bed. No need to water the critters since they all have automated water units.
First thing are the cows, they’ll started screaming bloody murder if their not fed right away, by the time I’m through filling up their feed buckets and dumping the hay the horses start pawing at the ground and digging into the fence. They’re shoed, so I have to hurry before they get their shoes stuck in the wire of the fencing.

Filling up their own buckets and dumping some hay, I then head to the very back behind the barn, that’s where their feeding trough is located, where I also dump the hay and make sure Billy, our full groan Ram hadn’t knocked the watering unit off it’s hinges again with his horns. He does it by accident, his horns are so long that they’ll get caught on it, and when he feels the vibration will panic and bolt ripping it right off. One time he was out in the middle of the pasture grazing with it hanging from his horns.

Billy is the breeder, a large, one-and-fifty pound goat that only thinks about eating, sleep and sex. He can be mean to, luckily though he likes me, so isn’t as mean.

Out by the troughs, my legs surrounded by goats, I finish up and turn to head back around the barn and out the gate. That’s when I feel something big and heavy slam into my back knocking me down and onto my hands and knees. I’m quick to realize it’s Billy and know he’s mounting me for his own little fuck.

I panic and squirm than scream his name and for him to get off. He’s smart enough to understand his own name, but that’s as far as his intelligence can go sometimes, other times he’ll just ignore everything.