From: avenger@hotmail.com   
      
   Nice story SM, but I don't see how a ten-year-old is capable of a consensual   
   sexual relationship with an adult male. Unless you are a pedophile or   
   someone who  condones the actions of such people, I think you need a   
   disclaimer to make it clear that you understand the difference between   
   fantasy and reality and do not endorse sexual relations between adults and   
   minors.   
   If, however, you DO condone pedophilia, I pity your fucked-up mentality, but   
   please spare me the delusional rationalisation.   
      
   MA   
      
   "Simple Man"  wrote in message   
   news:Xns98E2BB316EE8ASM@38.119.97.5...   
   > 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   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
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