Our team of Belgian Draft horses could pull the threshing machine. Pa usually drove the big team himself. They were a matched pair and stood almost tw...nty hands high with broad backs and great powerful legs. They could pull our heavy old thresher every day throughout the whole harvest and never feel the strain. Pa's Percherons were his pride and joy as horses go, but those big Belgians were special, in a class all by themselves.Pa gave fifty dollars for the pair when a traveling circus went. She was his Queen. But I was his head slave. He fucked me before he fucked any other girl. What we had would never be erased. Even if everything went back to the way it was before the machine activated, I would know in my soul. I would ache for him.And I knew he would claim me. He would seize me, hold me tight, and fuck me hard.“That's it, slave,” he growled. “Work that slutty cunt up and down my dick.”He drew back his hand and cracked it down on my ass.SMACK!I hissed in a deep breath, my cunt. More

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