Born Beautiful, Rachel’s Story #09

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Chapter 9

Brunette, green-eyed, busty, sexy, shapely, and beautiful, introducing Rachel

‘Twas an unusually eerie, summer night, a full moon lit up the barren cornfield as if nature had left a nightlight on when Rachel put her head down on her pillow to sleep. Exhausted from her long day of chores, she was beyond tired. She was exhausted. It’s not easy working on a farm in 1860.

“It’s so quiet, too quiet,” she said feeling the sensation of weather looming. “The lull before the storm.”

It had been a long, hard day of physical labor and unlike her father and brother who were now free to lounge around the house and do nothing but drink beer for a week or two, her chores and her mother’s chores were never done. From the time they opened their eyes until the time they closed them, they were always working. Cleaning the house, making breakfast, lunch, and dinner, feeding the animals, and doing whatever women’s work needed to be done from darning socks to sowing clothes, Olga and Rachel never had any free time.

Her father and her brother had too much time on their hands and were making drunken asses of themselves. In between the plowing and planting seasons, nevertheless with always something to do around a working farm, her father’s time to fix whatever was broken before her brother tilled the soil in readiness to grow the winter crops, they were enjoying their brief leisure time. They worked hard enough to enjoy the down time but not when all they did was to make nuisances of themselves and get in the way of her doing her chores. Instead of being gone all day working the fields, both of them hung around the house as if they were on vacation and this was a hotel. Actually they were on vacation from working their twelve hour days and with her and her mother waiting on them hand and foot, this farmhouse was their hotel and they were their not so merry maids. Never totally without work on a farm, her father and brother were taking a much needed break to recoup their energy by drinking and talking stupid.

“Give me a kiss Rachel,” said Karl grabbing her around the waist and pulling her to him while reaching down to cup her ass through her petticoats and fondle her big breast through her dress.

Then when he grabbed her hand to move it down to the bulge that his cock made in his pants, she pulled her hand away and slapped his face.

“Get away from me you pig. You stink,” she said stomping on his foot and pushing him away to break his hold on her. “Brothers aren’t supposed to kiss and feel their sisters in a sexual way. What’s wrong with you?” She looked at him as if he were crazy or drunk, which he was. “Yet, if any man other than you touched me, groped me, and tried to kiss me, you’d kill them.”

“You’re damn right I would. You’re my baby sister and I’m your big brother. It’s my responsibility to protect you from–“

“The only protection I need right now is from you Karl,” she said running away from him.

Getting in the way of her and her mother’s work, singing, talking loud, and being noisy, stupid drunks, the self appointed king and prince of the castle and lords of their land, when not laughing and horsing around, were insanely out of control with angry diatribes, violent attitudes, and incestuous lust for Rachel and her mother.

“Do you know what’s wrong with this country? Do you know what’s wrong with our government? Do you know what’s wrong with the King?”

Hugo stood in the middle of the room as if he was on stage looking from his son to look to at his wife before focusing his stare on the impressions that Rachel’s button sized nipples and abundant breasts made in the tight bodice of her dress. Only, having heard it all before, especially when he’s been drinking, no one was listening to him now but for his son. Before getting too drunk to ask the questions, Hugo was now too drunk to coherently and intelligently answer any of them.

With Rachel just having to scratch the surface by giving them an unguarded sexy look or even a an inadvertent flash of her ankle or calf, always inappropriately present, their lewd and lascivious behavior was worse when they were drinking. Groping and grabbing, where no father should touch his daughter. Feeling and caressing, where no brother should feel his sister. Their incestuous behavior was always worse when they were drunk.

If they could strip her naked, they would. If they could have sex with her naked body, they would. If they could force her to her knees to suck casino oyna their cocks, cum in her beautiful mouth, and watch her swallow, they’d do that too. The only thing that stopped them from stripping her, fucking her, and forcing her to blow them was that she was a virgin and a valuable family asset.

“Karl! Stop! Don’t touch me! I hate it when you touch me in that way,” she Rachel removing his dirty hand from her breast and running away from his clutches again. “You’re a disgusting pig.”

With her drunken father and randy brother, suddenly the farmhouse loomed small. Feeling the lull before the storm. Restlessly uneasy, unable to relax enough to let down her guard, Rachel had an ominous feeling of doom. An unrelenting sense of quiet desperation pained her in the way of a dull, unceasing toothache. She wanted out of his crazy house. Wishing she had wings and could fly, she wanted to flee from her father and brother and be as far away from them as she could.

“Twinkle, twinkle little star…”

Every night she wished upon a star but her wishes never came true. She wished she lived elsewhere. She wished a handsome man would ask her father to marry her. She wished a wagon of gypsies would kidnap her and cart her away from this awful place and away from her father and brother. She wished she lived in America. Even after falling asleep thinking that her wishes would come true and she’d waken in another bed somewhere else, she was still here the next morning.

A country girl and a farmer’s daughter, if Hollywood had existed then and known her, more than one hundred years before the Beverly Hillbillies aired, the original Elly May Clampett, played by Donna Douglas, they would have fashioned her character after Rachel. The only distinguishable difference between the two woman was that Elly May had blonde hair and blue eyes where Rachel had chestnut hair and green eyes. Surely, if Rachel was Elly May Clampett, then dumb as a stump Karl was the likeable and affable Jethro. With Hugo shrewdly wise, he could have been Jed Clampett with a touch of Mr. Drysdale mixed in him. Yet, in the shapely and beautiful way that Olga once looked, especially long ago before the physical, emotional, and sexual abuse saddened her and took its toll on her, albeit still a beautiful woman when compared to other farmers’ wives, she was no Granny Clampett or Miss Hathaway. Olga still looked pretty good and good enough for her son to continually lust over his mother and have sex with her instead of trying to have sex with his sexy sister.

Leaving the house to get away from them but careful where she walked whenever she wasn’t near the main house, so as not to be caught alone with either or both of them, she walked down by the stream and stayed hidden in the grove of trees. Her safe recluse, she could duck behind a tree before they spotted her and remain hidden there until after they left. Always mindful of the ever present wildlife, bears, wolfs, and snakes, she was more afraid of the two legged, human wildlife than the four legged animals and the slithering legless reptile versions. Her private place to go and to be alone with her thoughts, yet still an involuntary prisoner of this land, she made the best of her life by taking the time to go for long walks to enjoy nature. In the distant shadow of the Bavarian Mountains, it was truly beautiful here.

Alternating with her eyes lifted to the sky and her nose cast down to the ground, with her head back and her arms stretched down to touch the tall grasses with her fingertips, she felt the breeze, the moisture, and the subtle changes in the weather as she walked. Without doubt, there was a storm coming. She could tell by how everything green looked up to the sky for rain.

She was one with the earth, accepting of the wind, and the content with the sky no matter if it was blue and calm or grey and angry. Positive in nature and just happy to be healthy and alive, in a era where few lived past the age of 45-years-old, she was an 18-year-old woman who seldom complained. Blessed with intelligence, commonsense, and an inherit sensitivity, as if she was an incarnation of Mother Nature herself, she read the obvious and not so obvious signs of nature that others often missed when running helter-skelter through their lives.

As if she was Mother Earth personified and walking the Earth in human form, sensing the lull before the storm, she felt the sensation of an exaggerated atmospheric inhalation that sucked up a big breath of air. canlı casino Then, taking it all in and holding it until everything was quiet before blowing out a bad wind in a disappointed sigh, she felt the change in the air. With the humidity skyrocketing up and the barometric pressure dropping down, she had a sinus headache. She didn’t need any manmade weather instruments to feel the changes in the climate that she keenly felt with her body. Without even looking, all she had to do was to lift her head to the sky and close her eyes to feel the subtle and sometimes not so subtle changes in the weather.

Definitely there was a storm coming and she could feel that it’d be a bad one. Already so humid and not wanting to be caught outside in a lightning story, best she cut her alone time short and head for home. Wishing she could have stayed out longer to avoid her drunken father and brother, she’d turn in early for the night. She hoped she’d fall asleep before the boom of thunder and the flash of lightning awakened her. Walking faster to make it home before the rain, she headed upstairs undetected, closed her bedroom door, and pushed her dresser against it.

Quickly getting out of her clothes, she put on her nightgown, pulled back the covers, and dove beneath the sheet. So very tired but too early to sleep, once in her bed, she closed her eyes and tried to calm herself with her breathing to relax. Earlier in the evening, before she readied herself for bed, when she was out walking to be alone with her thoughts and to commune with nature, she was already disturbed by the quiet. Unnaturally calm, too unnervingly quiet, she sensed there was something wrong. Knowing that sleep tonight would be elusive, if ever it was to come, just as it was too uncommonly quiet to comfortably sleep, it was too hot.

Sensing evil in the air, the silence and the stillness of the night frightened her. No longer hearing her father and brother, either they went out or they fell asleep. Not wanting to put herself in jeopardy to check, she remained locked in her room. Waiting and listening, finally, she got out of bed and trying not to avoid the steps that creaked, without taking a light with her, went downstairs to stand out on the front porch to get some air. With the dogs locked in the barn sleeping when not killing rats, if there were wolves about looking for food, the dogs would have been barking. Knowing they traveled in packs and seldom traveled alone, she took the rifle with her before stepping out on the front porch to peer through the darkness. Shooting one would frighten off the others.

With her father and brother already drunk and not asleep downstairs, not seeing the shine of a lantern, obviously they were out wandering the grounds in the dark drunk again. Sometimes, especially when drinking, neither one of them had the sense enough that God gave them to stay indoors and just go to bed. Especially as drunk as they were, it was dangerous to prowl around the farm without a light and a gun. Not knowing nor caring where they were and what they were doing, she figured they may have been in the barn and left the barn door open. Hoping they’d be struck by lightning, when she saw the first flash of lightning in the distance, she was glad she’d soon be safe inside and in her bed again. She feared an impending lightning and thunder storm coming that would spook the horses. Before she went upstairs to bed, Mother Nature’s nightlight, the moonlight allowed her to see that the distant barn doors were secured and the horses were safely inside.

As if there was a hawk soaring high above her in the sky, no doubt looking for a late, night meal, her early warning device much in the way of an alert dog barking, it was too late in the evening for the cawing and cackling cacophony of crows to be a noisy nuisance that foretold of someone or something approaching. Without the chatter of squirrels, the rustle of rats, rabbits, chipmunks, snakes, turtles, and the noise of ducks and geese to alert her, it was so unearthly quiet that even the crickets would have been an intrusively loud welcome but they were quiet too. So weirdly quiet, it seemed that every animal, reptile, bird, and insect was asleep or knew enough to hide from the approaching weather but her.

“It’s so quiet. Where do they all go? Maybe they’re all smart enough to hide below ground or up in the trees. There’s so much to learn from nature if observant enough to see,” she said for no one to hear.

She returned safely inside, kaçak casino closed the front door with the unsettling feeling of being watched, and climbed the stairs for bed again. Just in case her father and/or brother returned and tried to climb in her bed as they’d tried to do before, she pushed her dresser against her door again. She couldn’t have been asleep for more than a an hour or two when she heard the scream. Wanting to fall back to sleep but sensing there was something wrong, fearing that she may be in danger, she struggled to open her eyes. As if she dreamt herself screaming, as if she was having a bad dream, the noise awakened her in a fright.

“What the Hell was that? It sounded like a scream.”

Already on edge with the unearthly quiet before, even though she was exhausted from working hard all day, the mystery of not knowing if it was a scream she heard and, if it was, where the scream emanated from would surely keep her awake. Being that it was so very quiet again now, did she really hear a scream or did she imagine it? Was it a dream or was it real? Hoping to hear the scream again for her to make out what it was and where it had come from, she sat up in bed while waiting to hear it again.

Not making a sound, not even breathing, she intently listened. Asleep when she heard it, she heard something but what did she hear? Was it a screech or a scream? Was it animal or human? Maybe Mr. Owl perched outside her window in the tree swooped down to catch another rat. Hiding in the hay, rats had the run of the barn and the cornfield whenever the dogs weren’t killing them. Maybe the cat played with a mouse downstairs in the kitchen. Whatever it was and wherever it was, what was it? She didn’t know. Even though she quietly listened, even though it fell so stilly silent outside for her to hear, she didn’t hear the scream again.

Waiting to hear it, listening intently while remaining awake not to miss it, it was quiet again now, too quiet, as quiet as it was before, and now she was wide awake listening for the noise she heard. Too early to get up, she wondered what time it was. Too tired to start her day, she wondered what had awakened her. Too frightened to go back to sleep, she stayed in her bed listening, thinking, and peering out her window while trying to see what or who was out there at this late hour. Too tired to get up and too afraid to walk around in the dark again, she remained positive that the noise was nothing more than a bad dream. Unable to kid herself that what she heard wasn’t real, she gave in to her suspicions, suppositions, and premonitions to imagine the worst by fearing the most horrible.

“Who’s out there? There’s something or someone out there. I just know it. I can feel it,” she said to herself for no one to hear.

Knowing that rain was inevitable before, raining now, it had started raining sometime during the night. Even by the light of the full moon and the occasional flash of lightning in the far distance, the thin fog as if a sheer curtain that concealed the evil that lurked outside, veiled the landscape to make it more difficult for her to see out her rain speckled bedroom window. Normally it was so dark outside anyway, as dark outside as it was dark inside her bedroom, especially this time of the early morning, before the morning’s first light and before the clockwork like crow of the rooster. Even with the light of the full moon, it was still too dark to identify nature’s dark and scary shadows.

With her face pressed against the cool, wavy glass of her bedroom window, the scary shadows she saw made her wonder if there were ghosts and/or monsters lurking about her father’s farmland. Maybe there were bandits and marauders out and about hoping to kidnap her, strip her naked, and make her do whatever they sexually so desired. As sexually excited as she was frightened by a bandit or marauder kidnapping her and forcing her to do all sorts of sexual things, she closed her eyes hoping to have a sexual fantasy while fingering her nipples and touching herself beneath the covers.

Reassuring her fright by trying to fall back to sleep while blocking out the deafening silence, she took some big breaths of bravery. She tried to calm her feelings of foreboding by convincing herself that what she heard was just her imagination and just a bad dream. Besides, after what she’s already witnessed by seeing how tragically her mother’s been so abused, after all that she’s experienced being beaten, and after all that she’s suffered being brutalized herself at the hands of her father and her brother, she knew that she needed to fear the living more than the dead. Much more monstrous, men were much more frightening than ghosts.

To be continued…

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