From: man.simple@hotmail.com   
      
   The Farmer's Daughter (Mg, cons)   
   By Simple Man   
      
      
      
   My name is Buck and I am the uncle to a precocious little ten year old   
   girl, my niece Betsey.  Now all of this is important when you realize   
   that my brother, Bart, simply cannot handle the girl so you figure it   
   out.  Here I am a retired Marine Drill Sergeant that had turned young   
   breast sucking wimps of boys into cunt fucking, ass whipping men.  Now   
   maybe you realize why Betsey got shipped off to me in another State.   
   What I did not realize was that little girls come armed and dangerous.   
   You just cannot holler at the top of your lungs "WHAT THE FUCK IS YOU'RE   
   PROBLEM MISTER?  SOUND OFF LIKE YOU'VE GOT A PAIR!" it just does not   
   work with little girls.   
      
   Now to make matters even worse, Betsey is god awful pretty and she knows   
   it.  It all began when my bother lost his wife in a car wreck.  He was a   
   man that knew the land and how to make things grow; he was just like our   
   father.  Raising a daughter was so foreign to him that by the time   
   Betsey turned nine he was already looking at pawning her off on   
   somebody, anybody.  Then I retired from the Marines and was looking   
   forward to opening a Barber Shoppe as I never really ever got over   
   holding a sharp piece of steel against another man's throat, it just   
   gets me there where it feels good.  But all that had to be put on hold   
   when my brother called me.   
      
   Hell, I welcomed the idea; yeah sure send her to me.  I thought I would   
   whip this young person into a disciplined soldier within eight weeks.   
   Oh she might be a girl, but she would be Marine trained and fucking   
   dangerous to be around when I was done with her.  She would be able to   
   slit the throat of one man while disemboweling another and not even   
   break a sweat.  She would be a United States Marine.  Semper FI,   
   brother.   
      
   When she stepped off the bus my training plans fell into the dust at my   
   feet.  She was the very picture of feminism, the very thing we Marines   
   fought to protect and died for.  Sweet, pure, young as the Spring Rose   
   just blooming.  Every man's kid sister he swore to defend and protect   
   with his life.  The one, the proud, the few.  I wanted to cry.   
      
   "Uncle Buck?  Is that you?  Are you still in the Army?"   
      
   I cringed inside, "That would be the Marines Miss Betsey, not the fuc--   
   ng, I mean not the Army and I guess I have just not had the time to get   
   any new clothes yet."   
      
   I thought, shit little girl, you are standing there looking at the most   
   magnificent man on Earth, a genuine United States Marine and you should   
   be proud to be in my protective presence.  Fact was she looked happy but   
   not proud.  Maybe that would come later, I hoped.  Standing there   
   towering over this little ten year old girl with her suitcase in hand,   
   my crispy starched brown uniform with crisp creases and enough chevrons   
   and hash marks to yellow my sleeves, bloused pant legs and spit shined   
   boots and my Drill Sergeant's hat dipped precisely as stated in the   
   dress code manual with the leather chin strap fully in place, I knew I   
   looked awesome and feared by all civilian men and boys.  I took the   
   suitcase from her and we walked out of the bus terminal with people   
   hurriedly trying to get out of our way as no one in their right mind   
   fucks with a United States Marine or the little girl in his charge.   
   From the distance I heard…   
      
   "Aw man mom, do you see that!  That is what I'm gonna be when I grow up,   
   a Marine!" a small boy almost shouted.   
      
   The boy had pride and I stopped and smiled in his direction, giving him   
   his due.  He was jumping up and down and all excited when he saw me   
   acknowledge him.  Even little Betsey gave him a smile.  We left the bus   
   station and I helped her into my olive drab Hummer H1 and we drove off   
   as the sun was beginning to set.  It was a long drive, maybe 35 minutes   
   before we came to Camp Buck and yes, you heard it right.  It looked like   
   a small Marine boot camp complete with white painted rocks lining the   
   half mile drive to headquarters where I lived.  By the time we arrived   
   you could barely see the training course laid out in the darkness.   
   Actually I intended to keep fit and I knew only one way, the Marine way.   
      
   I showed Miss Betsey to her quarters and then went to mine and stripped   
   down to just my olive drab shorts, then got myself a good sized cup of   
   black Marine coffee in my canteen cup and went out in my living room to   
   read the Stars and Stripes.   
      
   "Uncle Buck?  Uncle Buck I cannot get into the shower and reach the   
   water faucets.  Can you help me take a shower cause you don't got no   
   bath tub?"   
      
   Bath tub?  Why the hell would I want a bath tub, men don't use bath tubs   
   and that's why I don't have one.  I folded my newspaper and got up and   
   as I turned around, there was Miss Betsey completely naked and smiling   
   up at me like nothing bothered her.  Well it certainly bothered me   
   because my military brain just stopped and said wait a minute, that is a   
   girl and she is naked, lets think about this.  Girl, naked.  Naked girl.   
   My Marine cock stood at attention to salute the pure and innocent that I   
   swore to protect.   
      
   "Of course Miss Betsey, I will assist you with your shower."   
      
   The look of happiness was all over her face and as I reached in to turn   
   the faucets she rubbed her hands through the hair on my chest and then   
   pinched my nipples only to smooth her hands over them an instant   
   afterward.  Then as I tested the water temperature she sucked on one   
   nipple I froze as she alternated between the left one and the right.   
   Highly aroused I lifted her into the shower and into the stream of warm   
   water spray.  I attempted to close the curtain but…   
      
   "No!  Wash me!  And no washcloth, that's too rough, use your hands."   
      
   I was used to making lightening fast decisions, but my brain was not   
   working in my head and all decisions were now in the hands of my second   
   in command.  She was small, with perfect skin so smooth and soft that it   
   was almost transparent.  Gentle curvature to her hips and shapely legs   
   and thighs complemented twin walnut sized breasts and completely   
   hairless body.  This did not belong on a training course to be toughened   
   into muscle, it was meant to be loved, the girl back home if you prefer.   
   There were warriors and the women they left behind to fight the great   
   battles throughout all ages.  Miss Betsey was my personal struggle now,   
   my girl back home and she was asking for my loving touch.  What else   
   could I do?   
      
   I washed this new recruit as tenderly as I could, ever mindful that she   
   was built a little different than I was used to seeing at boot camp.   
   This process was getting the Headquarters latrine floor wetter than a   
   mountain stream so I climbed in and closed the shower curtain to cut   
   down on the mess that I would have to clean up later.  Then "HOLY   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)