Melanie's sex story
Her name was Melanie. Her beauty was legend. Men came from miles around just for the chance to bathe themselves in her graceful aura.
But it was the rarest of occasions when a courting man could find the lovely princess with her two feet planted on the warm earth.
Melanie was always off with the wind. She was an expert rider. And there was one horse she loved to ride very much.
You might be able to catch a fleeting glimpse of her if you were up at the crack of dawn when she sped through the countryside on her Lightning.
That was the name of her precious horse. He was faster than all the horses in her daddy's stables and her favorite.
Some of the neighboring townsfolk even hinted that her desire for her young stallion bordered on the ludicrous.
Be that as it may, there was nothing on this blessed earth that could ever quench the passion she had for that horse.
When Melanie was straddled atop the charcoal-gray beast a power surged through her that suffused through her whole body.
She had never known a feeling like that except with her precious Lightning and she doubted whether a man could ever make her feel the same way.
Only to herself did she admit that she was in love with the beautiful stallion. And only in her dreams.
They would be flying through the countryside like was their habit in the wake-a-day world, the breeze making her soft, dirty-blond hair whip around her creamy white face.
But there was a blank spot in the dream that she could never understand. They would be riding fast and come to a clearing.
In this clearing stood a house made of glass. She rode into the archway opening on top of her favorite horse and entered into it.
Inside of the glass house, her eyes were dazzled by the glittering rainbow aura that filled the stately place.
The colors blazed with the intensity of an inferno but there wasn't the accompanying heat one would expect.
It was cool and inviting inside although the place was glazed in a rainbow spectrum that was breathtakingly beautiful.
Melanie would feel herself losing her breath inside the image of her fabulous dream from the tremendous burst of color.
She peered intently into the blazing color. Slowly it began to ebb away and a gap sprung up and pushed the colors to the side.
It was a huge, round circular gap whose circumference was defined by the bevy of fiery color encircling it.
Without having to shake his reins, Lightning began to make his way toward the celestial opening.
As they plodded closer to the magnificent abyss, Melanie could make out a design forming in its center.
The design began to take a definite shape and before long it possessed a definite substance. There was something there.
As they approached the mirage the colors began to fade away. But there was still the aura of the rainbow present.
It was just that her perspective had changed. They were now inside the magnificent bubble that had opened before them. The structure that had formed itself in front of their eyes was clearly visible. It was a large circular platform.
It was spinning on its axis. The closer she and Lightning came toward it the faster it would spin.
It began to make her dizzy. She wanted to take her eyes off it to stop the feeling of vertigo pulsing through her.
But no matter how hard she tried to turn her gaze from it she just could not do it, and Lightning kept moving inexorably forward.
She pulled on the reins to stop his forward movement. But for the first time in her life he would not heed her command.
She did not want to pull too hard and force the bit into his mouth. She never had to do that and she didn't want to do it now.
But she couldn't help the fact that the spinning platform was making her dizzy, nauseous even.
In the dream she felt herself falling off her strong stallion. But she never hit the ground and just kept falling.
Now she was lost in the swoon of her vertigo trance. When she finally realized herself back in one piece she was lying down.
She was on the spinning platform. It was soft and warm and she could feel a cool breeze caressing her naked body.
When she looked up she could see the awesome glitter that dazzled her inside the glass dome she and Lightning had entered.
The platform was unusually warm. In her dream it reminded her of the times she was delirious from a high temperature and her bed pulsed with her heat.
But she was not sick. Something else was warming the platform bed and causing its soft folds to flame up in heat.
She turned to her left. For a long moment her eyes could not focus on the being lying next to her because the spectacle of the glitter was still dazzling them.
Then the form of the being became clear. It was Lightning. He was lying next to her on the spinning platform.
She began to tingle with excitement. It came home to her at this point in the dream that this was a situation she had always secretly yearned for.
But only in her dream world did she have the courage to imagine it. She knew where her eyes wanted to rove to but she had to force herself to look there.
Slowly her gaze swept lower and lower toward the belly of the beast. The object she was searching for was inches away from her gaze.
She lost her courage the moment before the line of her eyesight would catch hold of his fantastic member.
But she was determined to realize her dream. She was living an unspoken goal inside her sleeping head and had to see it through.
She gritted her teeth and raised up her courage and forced her neck down to see the obscenity her eyes would not move to encompass within sight.
Finally the object of desire came into her heated view. When she saw it she heard the blasting burst of an army of trumpets.
Lightning's two-foot-long cock lay throbbing on his upturned belly. It was a magnificent cock.
It shocked her to the quick at the mere sight of it. Now that her gaze was fastened upon it she had to touch it.
But every time she groped for it the cock would escape her grasp. She became frantic and lunged at it with both hands.
But she could not touch it. It was a dream. You cannot touch dreams. The sense of touch must be enacted in the real world.
She woke up. She was hanging off the side of her big bed. Her satin sheets had been kicked off during her reverie.
She was covered in sweat. The yearning desire for Lightning's massive cock pulsed through her now, even while awake.
But her consciousness would not let her believe that she desired it so. She wiped her forehead of its perspiration.
She walked around the room trying to regain her former perspective on things that the dream had just usurped.
She convinced herself that it was only a dream and had nothing to do with the real world. It was just a dream.
Melanie was a bright girl. Her talent and grace had as much to do with her sense of beauty as did her voluptuous body.
Deep in her heart she knew that the dream was an expression of something she wanted very much in the real world.
But the love of an animal, especially one with a sexually spicing allure to it, was not something one breathed to another living soul.
And if one did not confess her aims to the outer world by communicating with a living soul the only outlet left was her dreams.
As smart as she was, her conscience would not let the image of love for her Lightning become a goal that she would actively seek.
When she finally managed to calm herself and explained away the meaning of the dream as a mere lifeless fantasy, she tucked herself back in bed.
It was then and only then that she realized that her beautiful, blond-haired cunt was sopping wet.
She felt her juices flow. She made no connection between her sopping gash and the lustful desires exposed in her dream.
She closed her eyes and began to doze off back into sleep. Her muscles relaxed and she could feel the warm glow of unconsciousness begin to overtake.
Then she heard the high-pitched whinny of her favorite stallion pierce the hot air of the moonlit night and bolt her back awake.
Was that a dream too? Had she just heard a communicative moan come issuing out of the snorting mouth of her fantasy lover?
The memory of the dream came back now full force. The image of when she first laid eyes on his massive, erect member burned in her brain.
It was useless to sleep now. No matter what position she assumed to get comfortable two things kept haunting her: the high-pitched whine of her lovely stallion and the image of his rock-hard pole.
When she sat down to breakfast the next morning her father could not help but notice the heavy bags underneath her pretty blue eyes.
"Honey, are you all right."
"I'm fine. I just had a restless night, that's all."
"You don't look well. Perhaps I should call the doctor."
"No, please, it's not necessary. I'm fine really."
"Maybe this is a good time to discuss what you would like for your birthday."
"There is that lovely saddle I saw in town. It would look perfect on Lightning."
Franklin Barker frowned at the mention of the horse's name. He couldn't understand why a pretty young girl like Melanie was so obsessed with that animal.
Every since her mother died three years ago, Melanie had become a bit of an introvert. Boys were constantly calling on her and she was always turning them down.
"How about a lovely gold necklace. I saw the perfect one in a store on the avenue. You could wear it at your party."
"What party?"
"Why your birthday party, of course."
"Did I say I wanted a birthday party?"
"Melanie, don't be silly. It's your sweet sixteen party. It's a ritual everyone's looking forward to."
"But I don't want it."
"But I insist. It'll be a chance to socialize a bit. You've been stuck around the farm too much."
"What's wrong with horseback riding."
"Why nothing. But there are other things you know."
"Like what?"
"Like pretty things that all girls your age want, jewelry and such. Besides, the party will give you the opportunity to get to know Larry better. He was here just the other day looking for you, but you were out riding Lightning."
"I don't want to be with Larry. He bores me."
"Very well, what about Carter Marington. He's a nice young boy. He's a perfect gentleman, and believe me, a father should know."
"He doesn't like to ride horses."
"You could teach him. He could have the pick of the breed. Let him ride Lightning. He's very tame."
"No," Melanie shrieked, "that's impossible."
Franklin Barker did not know what he had said to make his daughter so upset. He had merely suggested the obvious thing.
For a person just learning to ride, Lightning was the perfect choice. He rarely bucked and took to people easily.
"Are you going to get me the saddle or not."
"There are better things for a young girl. Why not come to town with me today and pick out whatever you like."
"I can't. It's time for me and Lightning to go on our morning ride."
What was her damn obsession with that stupid horse? Her father decided to put his foot down, this was getting ridiculous.
"Melanie, you spend entirely too much time here on the farm. It's time you got out, you know, started making a few friends."
"I'm happy the way I am."
"Well, I don't think so. I'm going to do something about it."
Melanie hated when her father acted this way. It seemed like he was trying to make up for her mother's death.
He was always blaming himself for her sickness, something that he really couldn't have done anything about.
He felt it his duty to play two roles with her, one as father and the other as a surrogate mother.
She hated him when he tried to assume the role of mother. He wasn't any good at it. What man was?
"Are you going to get me the saddle for Lightning."
"I'll give you anything you want except that."
"But that's what I really want."
"You're too pre-occupied with things here on the farm. I'm throwing that party for you and you're going to enjoy yourself."
He looked at her defiant expression. When her face assumed that frowning countenance she reminded him so much of her mother.
Her pert little nose raised up and her small nostrils flared out in rebellious defiance. Her high cheekbones flamed red.
Her chin was slightly raised and she drew in her cheeks just a fraction. She seethed with a fury she could barely control.
But she did because no matter what she still respected her father. He had been good to her, though he sometimes overcompensated for things he had no control over.
When he assumed his authoritative stance she knew that it was impossible for her to argue with him. And right now he was quite adamant.
He had it up to here with that fuckin' horse. She spent too much time with that damn thing. It was getting way out of hand.
"All right, for you daddy, I'll do it."
"That's my girl."
The knowledge that something was terribly wrong with his daughter, that she was the victim of some sort of neurosis, burst into Franklin Barker's brain.
Years of assuming the role of mother had filled him with an intuitive awareness that was alien to most men.
In a strange way the death of his wife had made him realize the woman in himself. Also that the urge existed in all men as well.
Having to convince one's daughter to throw her sweet-sixteen party that was a holy ritual around this part of the South was not a good indication of normality.
The death of her mother had affected her to a greater degree than Franklin Barker had ever thought possible.
The party would be his last hope to try and bring her to her senses. After that, if she didn't snap out of it, he would have to seek out professional help for her.
The hard part would be convincing her that something was wrong to begin with. She thought it was perfectly natural for a girl her age to be riding horses all day.
If she wasn't beautiful he could understand her choice to lead a reclusive life. But that surely wasn't the case at all, not at all.
Her breasts were large and uplifted, exactly in the same manner as her mother's, and her poised look gave her a regal air. Her face never dropped its mask, not even for an instant. You could never read her real thoughts. Her guard was always up.
Her mother could convey the same air of sensuous indifference. Her glaze of irony weighed on your soul.
It was a look that said now impress me. If you can't I will impress myself with whatever whim strikes my peculiar fantasies and desires.
It was a type of independence that when a woman revealed it men were intimidated. It was taken as an unfeminine gesture.
They could not imagine a woman having the courage to make real her own aims, that is, at least, without a man to guide her.
Franklin Barker had won his wife's love by being the one man in her life who did not mind her brazen indifference to chauvinist talents.
All men had them, but few could understand that it was a part of a man's character that often got in the way of his clear perception of reality.
A woman, who was allowed to realize her ambitions by expressing herself in the manner she, and only she, saw fit, had a positive effect on the man closest to her in her life.
And Franklin Barker had been that man. She was not a submissive woman in the sense that she would settle for anything less than ultimate success in the pursuit of her dreams.
Perhaps that was what they had had more than anything else, the perfect dream life, where reality itself had lost its substance.
It was a strange kind of love bond that had existed between them. In fact, Franklin Barker felt sure that in some mysterious way it was still existing.
He was not a spiritualist. On the contrary, he was a very practical man. That was why he allowed his wife's talents to emerge free of his charges.
But that mysterious aura that surrounded her death still plagued him. To this day he still could not figure out what the fuck had happened.
All of a sudden one day he came home and found her dead. Doctors had diagnosed it as a cerebral hemorrhage.
It had struck her from out of the blue. There would have been no way, they had assured him, to have known that something was wrong with her.
The problem could have existed within her from birth. Things like this were impossible to detect.
And then one day the bubble burst inside her brain and it was all over. It had broken his heart. It made him philosophical.
He expected nothing. Yet with this kind of guiding attitude toward life one's senses were much sharper and alert.
Franklin Barker's mind often flew off into flights of spiritual vigor that left him more spent when it was over than any physical orgasm he had ever experienced.
He accepted everything around him as perfect and symbolic of the life he had led and built for himself.
That was how he could tell there was something terribly wrong with his lovely daughter. He could see his mistakes in her.
She was very much a part of him, he knew that. Like all children she had learned to look at life from the cues she picked up from her parents.
And like all parents they had tried to supply the best model of love that they were capable of expressing. But with one crucial difference: unlike most people, Franklin and Nora Barker had achieved a powerful bond in their relationship.
It carried him through depressing moments even to this day. The fact that her physical presence had ceased to exist had not dulled his sense of her. The things that they had experienced, strangely enough, was not what he thought about the most.
Being a practical man and a successful rancher and businessman who had succeeded in amassing a small fortune, he had learned never to look over one's shoulder.
The present was a result of past actions, of that there was no doubt, but it had little to do with the future.
The future, by way of association, is a function of the present, and that is a new moment every time and never dependent on the past.
The only part of the past that remained inside the psyche of Franklin Barker, was not his memories, but the effects of his experiences.
By allowing his wife to grow he was able to imitate her unique powers. Most men's egos could not endure such a blow.
Few men allow a woman to teach them anything. Their pride will not accept the fact that they must give of themselves to receive.
Franklin Barker feared for his daughter. There was something he had missed along the way that just didn't make any sense.
There was a connection between the way Melanie's mother had died and the strange way she was acting now.
If he could only retrace the events that led to her mother's death he might still be able to save Melanie.
But how does one decipher the symbolic nature of a cerebral hemorrhage? The very thought itself was a contradiction in terms.
To try and understand the why behind a person's death was tantamount to playing God. But the future of his daughter was at stake.
He watched her walk from the porch where he sat eating his breakfast and make her way over to the stables.
The farm hands were waving to her and in general giving her a warm greeting. But Melanie only gave the merest hint of a smile.
Her loose fitting blouse and jeans waved in the cool breeze that swept over a busy farm that was beginning to heat up with the days activities.
Men were working hard mending fences and hauling stacks of hay across the dusty red clay swirling up from the cool breeze.
His foreman, Mullady Mistler, was helping her to saddle up her Lightning and pack her leather pouch with carrots.
He watched her fine figure mount the charcoal-gray stallion and then nuzzle herself around the soft saddle atop the horse's back.
She bent over its long blond mane and he could see the wisps of her own dirty blond hair intermingle with the horse's. She whispered something in its ear. Then there was a momentary delay after she gave her order and she straightened herself up on the saddle. The birds stopped their chirping song. All the men's eyes were glued on the scene of the girl and horse poised for action.
Then like a crack of thunder. Lightning took off and bolted in the direction of the scenic hills that framed the horizon.
It was an inspiring spectacle to watch them fleeing into the sun-drenched valley at such a fierce and charging velocity.
Her movements gracefully complemented the steed's thunderous muscular vibrations from the rhythm of his headlong, furious pace.
He'd never seen anything like it. They way she could handle that horse was a miracle to behold. He had never seen anyone ride as fast as that.
Their bodies merged into one figure as the sped their way toward the horizon. It gave Franklin Barker the illusion of a chimera, those ancient half-person, half-horse beings with human heads and the body of a horse.
He kept his gaze fixed upon the speeding figure until his eyes burned from the strain of searching out the receding form.
He breathed a sigh and stood up.
CHAPTER TWO
Melanie bent lower over Lightning's beautiful mane while whispering sweet songs of inducement into its ear.
She told it that it was the fastest thing alive, that its power was tribute to the strength nature blessed it with.
The feeling of speeding like a bullet, complete with the thrill of that initial blast from the barrel, pulsed through her.
Lightning was in a feverish mood today. It was rare when the horse was doing anything she wanted to please her.
She loved when he started up like that. The first thing she always said to the horse upon mounting it was, "Go, Lightning, go as fast as you can like a crack of thunder."
And they bolted from a standing position like a shot out of a cannon. It thrilled her to the marrow when she experienced it.
She always said that to the horse as soon as she was comfortable in the saddle but it was not all the time that Lightning granted her wish.
The horse could be cantankerous when it wanted to be. Some days it would obey her initial command, but only halfheartedly.
Other times he wouldn't listen at all. It was often after a period of time when they were separated.
Her father forced her into going into town with him and introducing her around. There was no doubt that he was very proud of her.
Sometimes he took her away for a weekend. Lightning was very surly and hard to handle when she came back.
Sometimes it felt like the horse had a will that kept drawing her to it. Sometimes it did the smartest things.
Like today Lightning knew that everyone was watching them. And as long as they were he was going to impress them.
If they were wondering why the both of them spent so much time together, bolting away from them like that at top speed gave them an inkling as to why.
Lightning could thrill her like no other being on earth. He was showing off his strength in front of the husky men.
Top that, the horse was trying to say as they sped from the ranch at top speed, I dare you to do better than this.
Her imagination often dwelled on her love for the animal. She also knew that perhaps she was imagining a bit too much.
Perhaps the horse was just feeling particularly vigorous today, for whatever reason. She remembered the dream. When she had wakened from the dream, she had heard Lightning call to her in a high-pitched whinny. Had she imagined that too?
As if the horse was reading her thoughts this very moment, Lightning whinnied and slowed his pace with short, jolting bucks.
She had not expected the horse to pull up like that. She was so used to her legs around its form that she adjusted with hardly any trouble at all.
The horse stopped short and then pranced at a slow gait gently rocking her from side to side from the swaying motion of its flanks.
She could feel her body mold to the power of the horse's powerful form. She felt as one with it, not a separate entity at all.
They were together. It was at these moments that Lightning ceased to be a thing -- HE BECAME A PERSON.
They communicated. They understood one another. They were both beings, like spirits, you might say, housed in two different kinds of bodies.
The fact that that made all the difference in the world did not occur to the naive and lovely Melanie Barker.
Her rebellious spirit blinded her to the obvious fact that they were destined for different realities that could never hope to merge as one.
Little women are allowed these impossible fantasies. Rarely do they have the opportunity to make it real. A wicked moment awaited her.
Of course, her awareness was also dulled by the maze of conflicting images that pulsed through her young brain.
Her buried fantasies were finding an outlet because some sin was plaguing her. All these things she knew only in pictures, not words.
Just like her father she felt somehow responsible for the death of her mother. But it wasn't guilt exactly.
It was more like Melanie, as her daughter, was the only one who could erase this unnamed sin. She too instinctively felt, like her father, that Lightning held the answer.
There was something about this horse that was inextricably bound up with her mother, perhaps much more than she knew.
Melanie could see these images inside her mind's eye as they bubbled up to consciousness. But she couldn't control them.
Because she could not express what was happening to her in words, she could not center the images on a focal point.
Something was bothering her, she knew that. What it was exactly she couldn't tell. Her body made her do crazy things that preyed on her mind.
She loved the feeling between her legs as her young cunny bounced on the smooth leather saddle in time to Lightning's steady, rhythmic pace.
She could feel that she was wet down there. It often happened while riding the beautiful stallion through the sun-drenched valley.
It was their favorite spot. Some of their best moments together had happened between the walls of the mountain they lay in between now. A beautiful red-winged butterfly the span of which was outlined in a felt-like black trim flew in front of her blue eyes.
She was fascinated by its graceful flight that seemed to leave misty and blurry whips of color in its wake.
Melanie knew that this was impossible, colors did not leave comet-like trails in their wake showing where they had been.
The flight of the butterfly left a trace of its stimulating sight on the fronts of her glistening eyes. It was the after-effects of this image that she projected onto the real world.
So that when she saw the butterfly's dazzling colors seem to burn a hazy exhaust into the clear air of the sun-drenched valley, she believed she was witness to a miracle.
She was convinced that the butterfly was trying to tell her something. It was there for a reason, acting like a guide.
It wasn't telling her to do anything. The gesture of its presence and the way its colors painted the transparent air delivered its message.
Her clit was ringing and pulsing. She hadn't completely noticed it until now. Her cunny was really on fire.
As they rode together in the sun-bathed glade her hips loosened their grip around the saddle and the tender vise of her inner thighs rubbed from one side to the other along the smooth saddle in time to the rhythm of Lightning's steady pace.
A strange feeling overtook her. Out of the blue an image pulsed in her brain. It was a picture of her riding Lightning completely in the nude.
The thought of it made her issue an excited gasp. It was too terrible to keep thinking of but gave her a frightful arousal.
She was ashamed to have thought of it. Lightning was hardly making a sound. His strong feet took each step very gingerly.
She got the distinct impression that the horse was thinking the same thing as her. The sweat broke out on her forehead.
She couldn't tell what was real and what was her imagination. The entire scene looked like it could dissolve at any minute right before her eyes.
Perhaps she had never wakened from that dream of her and Lightning entering the curved archway of the house made of glass.
Pinching herself made no difference. She felt the pain but it still did not assure her that everything that was happening was real.
The image of Lightning's blood gorged, two-foot-long constrictor flashed in her head as clear as if she was remembering it from real life.
The black and red butterfly once again came into view. It seemed larger and bursting with color.
Either it was getting bigger or she was getting smaller. Her cunt kept burning and the crotch of her jeans was wet and showing through.
She very slowly unbuttoned the loose blouse that hung around her large, firm breasts and let the wind flap it open.
The cool breeze flew inside the folds and whisked her breasts bare of the light fabric that framed her cleavage.
Her breaths became definite pants expressing her obvious heat. She noticed that her hands were gripping the horn of the saddle.
Without even thinking to do it, she had been rubbing her hot cunt up and down the length of the saddle pumping her back and forth.
Her hands gripped the horn and her arms were held straight out to give her the needed leverage to perform the feat.
She removed her blouse and threw it on the ground. She smiled from the rush of pleasure the lewd act gave her.
She arched her back and took a deep breath, which made her aroused breasts thrust themselves out and harden the nipples from the feel of the caressing breeze.
She was proud of herself. She had satisfied a heretofore-unstated urge. She was riding topless atop her favorite stallion.
Her expression of lust filled her head with confidence. She felt free and uninhibited and capable of much more.
It suddenly seemed very hot out. Her hot tits were cooled by the gentle breeze that blew through the valley but her legs were sweaty. Lightning was moving at an extremely slow pace. The horse seemed to be waiting for her to set a direction or give a command.
Without her steed running like mad through the sun-drenched glade, the burning weight of the summer day began to weigh upon her.
Something moved behind the bush to her immediate right. She had seen it out of the corner of her eye. She turned toward it and laid her full gaze upon it.
The bush seemed to be on fire. Wait a minute, it was the butterfly again! Its crazy blaze of color glowed behind the gaps in the bush.
She was so hot from the sun's rays that she became dizzy on the saddle. She looked down at herself and gushed with excitement at the sight of her breasts.
The nipples were bloated full. They were incredibly swollen and erect. The mere sight of them made her cunt tingle like mad.
She was burning on two fronts, from inside and without. Her cunt was on fire and the sun poured into her flesh.
She gasped as much from excitement as she did to gulp down a reviving rush of the cool wind that provided her with a short respite. After her lungs filled themselves, the heat once again overtook her and she had to fight to stop herself from passing out.
Her pants were soaked in sweat. She raised one leg over the saddle and sat there with her two legs draped over one side.
She unbuckled her belt and raised her ass so she could wiggle the waist past her buttocks and remove the pants entirely.
She kicked them off and they flew in a heap onto the grassy ground. Her black cunny hairs were glistening from her juices.
She whipped her leg over the saddle and could feel her dripping dew mash against the smooth leather and glue her to the seat.
Lightning was off in a flash. As soon as the rider was fastened tightly in position, the horse bolted at top speed.
Melanie's beautiful blue eyes gleamed with delight and her grin stretched from ear to ear as the wind whisked the hair across her pretty face.
The burning flame within her and without her was being quenched by the speeding ride of her powerful steed.
Her flowery cunt swished about the smooth surface as her thighs bounced up down and around on the bobbing horse's back.
Her nipples were hard as a rock. Her big tits flapped from the motion and the sweaty under parts were dried in the cooling wind.
Her body comfortably glowed from the inside. Her passion was flowing through her and exciting her to a grand height now that the wind cooled her boiling skin.
Lightning was whinnying as he sped through the valley. She was blinded from the fierce intensity of the sun's brilliant rays.
She felt alive like never before. Only her precious Lightning could do that to her. It was insane but true.
There was no guilt, no recriminations at this point. Everything was pure bliss, an uninhibited delight.
It was a feeling of lust, yes, but also one of total freedom. Her reckless abandon was reaping a fine reward.
And she knew that the horse was aware of her passion. In some strange way beyond her ability to fully imagine, the horse was trying to court her.
Great bellowing whinnies were rushing out of his snorting mouth without the faintest trace of a muffle from the bit inside it.
The horse was happy and charged up. It sensed the fact that the rider was pleased and enjoying herself on her frantic ride.
The horse did not slow down, but it changed the pace of its gallop from a frenzied headlong run to one of long, lopping strides.
Melanie gasped in pleasure from the change of rhythm. Her cunt suffused with a fiery glow making her clit palpitate.
Her tender underparts slapped against the wet leather between long delays due to the horse's arching prance that raised her flanks off the saddle.
At that interval she felt the wind pierce into the gaping, flower of her cunt and wonderfully irritate her burning parts.
Then her cunt pounced upon the smooth saddle and her loins shuddered in the spastic throes of a rippling orgasm.
The electric current that pulsed through her began in her fevered clit and then burst into flames in her cunt.
Then the wave began an incredible rise up the length of her tingling spine and raced through her shoulders and burst forth into the wells of her bulbous tits.
Her breasts glowed from the orgasm's dramatic chain of flow that inevitably settled in the flesh of her hot mounds.
Her face pulsed a beet-red. Her cunt lips glistened from her spasmic dew that drenched them and made their redness shine forth.
Her nipples were so hard she thought that the orgasm would end only after they had burst from their seams and gushed blood.
Lightning called a halt to the graceful and sweeping gallop with one last mind-boggling arching swoop of his pouncing flanks.
The horse stopped dead in his tracks and Melanie's loins fell onto to the saddle with a splashing thud.
It wrung the last of her fantastic vibration out of her pulsating frame and called a halt to the most fabulous orgasm she had ever experienced in her short life.
After that thundering stop the horse proceeded at a normal pace and allowed the beautiful rider to catch her fevered breath.
Through half-closed lids that hid a part of her sex-glazed eyes, Melanie began to focus on the scenery before her.
Lightning was taking them over to a shady spot. An enormous tree whose plumage rose to a grand height stood adjacent a running stream. They slowly ambled over to the cool-looking spot. Melanie's body was glued to the saddle that had afforded her so much pleasure.
Lightning pulled up to the shady nook without being told. Melanie lifted her leg and dismounted from her lovely steed.
She was wonderfully spent. Her exhaustion filled her with a peaceful contentment. Gone were the haunting pictures of all those conflicting images.
She was at peace. She sat down naked against the tree and closed her eyes. She could feel and hear the horse's rustling movements next to her.
When she closed her lids her eyes were dazzled by a radiating glow of enormous intensity that had the effect of making her ears ring.
It was if she was getting a picture of what her feelings were at that very moment. With her eyes closed, she was looking at what she felt like.
The longer she kept them closed, the more the radiance died out and then vanished completely until there was nothing but darkness.
Lightning's nose was brushing up against her leg. She bent them under her neck and his nose rubbed against her cheek.
Her chin rested on her hands that cupped her bony knees and Lightning's cold nose rubbed up and down her bare thigh.
She kept her eyes closed and groped out a hand to feel for the lovely soft mane that framed the horse's large head. She felt her strength coming back. With eyes closed and looking inside herself she searched into the awesome black abyss.
By trying to focus her eyes into the blackness that stretched forever under her lids they began to tear from the strain.
But for a fleeting moment she was able to gain a three dimensional perspective of her internal picture.
And at that moment she felt like she was flying through space. The only thing that was missing was the sun and stars.
Then the flight assumed a hoary proportion. Her sweeping glide became a fall into a bottomless pit.
It was like being sucked under by a whirlpool, one out in the middle of the ocean that was gigantic and awe-inspiring.
The feeling of vertigo made her bolt open her eyes. She was almost sick to her stomach from the queasy feeling from her internal swoon.
When she opened her eyes she saw that Lightning had ambled down to the stream and was sucking the refreshing waters.
That was funny because all the while she was sure she had been fondling his fluffy mane in her little hand.
She had felt the horse's nose nuzzle itself against the warm flesh of her curveous thigh. She couldn't have imagined that.
She closed her eyes again and this time fell off into a restful doze that gave her back her strength.
When she rose to consciousness her brain once again began its normal workings and the confusing maze of images were back.
Even with her eyes opened they never stopped bubbling up. Her mind's eye kept itself focused on the internal state.
She was looking right at the running stream. But she couldn't see it. She was lost in the reverie of her daydream.
She could feel the sculptured form of the light bouncing off the ripping spray of water, but the stream itself was not registering.
The sparkle of the bobbing jets of the running current merely provided a dazzling background to the row of images pulsing through her brain.
She groaned in fear. She had lost control of her mind! If she continued like this she would lose all sense of reality.
She was receding backward inside herself. A part of her told her that it was wrong but another part of her told her that it couldn't be helped. For better or worse she had to endure it. If one day she came back to the world of hard reality, it would be only after she endured this fearful head-trip.
The images in her brain were pictures of her mother and father and of the ranch foreman Mullady Mistler.
They kept hounding her whether her eyes were closed or open; that was the part that scared her the most.
It was as if she no longer had conscious control over her own thoughts. They even dulled her senses and re-arranged external reality.
She could no longer tell whether something was real or an illusion dredged up to the surface of the world from her fevered imagination.
One image wanted desperately to have itself acknowledged by her consciousness. She dare not think it, and fought it back down.
But it was useless. Every time she thought of something else her thoughts would return to it like they were riding a circle.
She was sweating again. She had been cool here in the shade and couldn't understand. Before it was the sun that had her boiling.
Now it felt like the inferno was inside of her. She was not passionate or lusty but her temperature was rising fast.
The more she sweat and could not control her internal barometer the more panic-stricken she became and the heat became worse.
It was on account of that image she would not let rise to her consciousness. It demanded to be inspected and she was denying it a hearing.
Her heart raced. Her nipples were not aroused but her fleshy breasts shook from the intense level of her steadily palpitating heart.
She took deep breaths to calm herself and desperately groped with her senses to find an outer stimulation that would be intense enough to shake her awake from this terrible head-trip.
The smell of the sweaty stallion filled her nostrils. Soon the light stopped dazzling her eyes and the bubbling stream came into view.
She could hear the sound of the chirping birds. She could feel her tongue in her mouth and knew she had made it back to the world of hard matter.
Just when she thought that she had succeeded in fighting her way out of that terrible vertigo swoon, the deadly image popped into her brain.
It was like it had been waiting for her all along to drop her guard so it could attack her unsuspecting brain.
The image of Lightning's foot-long bloated cock that had appeared to her in the dream burst into her head.
She could hear the blare of the sound of an army of trumpets that accompanied the picture every time it succeeded in making its way to the surface of consciousness.
Her body tingled in fear. Her strength sapped out of her like a tree that was cut in half from the relentless goring of the lumberjack's saw.
Her bones felt like they were made of rubber. She felt guilt at being so fucked up she couldn't tell her dreams from reality.
With her knees tucked under her chin and her hands cupping her sobbing face, Melanie Barker cried like a saint who was suffering for an unnamed sin. Melanie was dying. And what hurt worst of all was that she did not know what was killing her.
CHAPTER THREE
Mullady Mistler stood atop the mountain peak that framed the valley below and adjusted the knobs of his binoculars.
The brow of his beady eyes furrowed into the rims of the eyeglasses as he peered down below into the sun-drenched canyon.
He had the voluptuous Melanie in view and licked his dry, chapped lips as he drunk in her stately frame.
He had watched her and Lightning prance around the floor of the valley and then she removed her clothes and made his head spin.
She reminded him of her mother in every way. The same beauty each of them possessed and the same vice as well.
Mullady Mistler recalled that thawing spring day when his mistress approached him and revealed to him her startling secret.
"Mullady, there's something I want you to do. And I need you to promise me you will never tell a living soul about it."
"Of course, ma'am, anything the mistress wants she shall have."
Then she revealed to him her decadent plan. He watched as her heavy breasts rose and fell in excitement as she told him of her evil desire.
"I want you to build for me an unusual contraption. It must be shaped like a small stall and made of wood."
"Whatever for, madam?"
"Just listen. The stall must be raised on a platform. There must be a leather harness that will fit around a horse's back." She probed his eyes with her own, those big, black jewels that always glistened with untold desire.
"Yes, madam, I'm listening."
"The contraption must be designed in such a way that I can slip underneath it while the horse is set in place."
"Madam, you don't mean..."
"Quiet, Mullady, and just listen. Do not worry, you will be amply rewarded. But your discretion is imperative in this case."
"I understand, madam."
"The contraption must be built in the back of the old tool shed that is rarely used. Have you got that?"
"Yes, in the old tool shed."
"Of course, Mr. Barker must know absolutely nothing about this. You will assist me when the time comes."
"Madam, are you sure this is what you desire?"
"I will not be questioned about it Mullady. I've been thinking about the idea all my life. Now the time has come."
"But in the story books, madam, where it has been recorded that this kind of thing has been done before, it has often proved fatal."
"That is a chance I am prepared to take. All I insist upon is your loyalty and cooperation. Can I count on it."
"Of course you can, madam. I shall do anything you request, although I do not agree and fear for your safety."
"That is not your concern. When the time comes I will hold to my word and you shall receive a fine reward for your efforts."
"As you wish, madam."
Mullady Mistler built the contraption. It was a marvel of engineering skill and a testament to his unique talent.
He had to build it by himself, away from the men who would surely have noticed something strange about its peculiar design.
When he had finished constructing it, his sense of aesthetics forced him to varnish the wood to a glistening gloss.
The small chamber underneath where Nora Barker would position herself underneath the mating stallion he had lined in soft white fur.
There was a silver bar that stretched in front of her so that her passionate fingers could keep her properly leveraged during the sordid act.
The leather strap that bound the horse was sure to allow her just enough of a play with the mammoth thrusting cock without the weight behind it.
The contraption was a magnificent design, which after it was built, seemed to glow in a pulsing aura.
When he finished it, after a steady month's diligent effort, he draped it with a blue felt cloth he purchased especially for it.
Nora Barker had demanded that money be secondary in the pursuit of excellence in the construction of her sordid contraption.
It had cost nearly five thousand dollars to construct it, not counting the labor Mullady Mistler had put into it.
Nora had promised to reward him handsomely as long as the wooden harness complied with the specifications of her fantasy.
She had not lied. When he took her to the back of the tool shed she had in her hand a cashiers check.
He shall never forget that day.
"Madam, the construction is finished. All is ready."
He could see that the knowledge that the thing had been built was making her passionately swoon.
Her eyes rolled in her head for a short moment until she cooled herself off long enough to speak.
"Are you sure, Mullady, is everything in order, just as I specified."
"Yes, madam, it is a perfect likeness."
He led the way and she followed behind him. He could hear her breath become more fevered the closer they came.
He opened the door for her and they stepped inside the shed. When he turned on the light he heard her gasp.
There it stood on a squared off platform with the felt cloth draped over the main portions hiding it from view.
She stood riveted in place. She breathed heavily and a mustache of sweat beaded into form on her upper lip.
Her breath was very rapid. Mullady could practically hear her heated thought as she stared at the covered contraption and her fantasy ran through her head.
Never had he met a woman of such courage. She knew what she was doing was terribly decadent, might even kill her.
Yet she was a woman of staunch will, a woman of destiny. She knew that it was an experience she had to live or die trying.
Mullady went to the clothed monument and whipped off the felt covering while waiting a long moment after grabbing a hank of the felt.
The apparition sprung into view. He could hear her gasp from the sight of the depraved contraption before her.
Its existence meant that her fantasy had become real. For better or worse her dream had become substantial.
He watched her gazing at it half in horror and half in the swoon of her uncontrollable lust as she drunk in the sight.
A hand went inside her blouse and gently caressed the top of one of her large firm breasts.
He saw her knees buckle as her strength seemed to ebb from her and she began to fall to the floor in a breathless faint.
He ran to her and reached her just in time to break her fall and ease her onto an old tool chest.
"Madam, are you all right. Perhaps..."
"No, I'm fine. Mullady. Thank you; you're a good servant."
"I am always willing to please madam in any way I can. But this, I'm afraid, is too much. I can not be a part of it."
"But you must, Mullady, there is no one else I can trust."
"But it could kill you. You must know that."
"I know it very well. But it must be done. Can you understand that."
"Not wholly, madam, but if you put it like that I'm forced to comply."
"You are very good to me. I shall never forget your loyalty. Here is the reward I promised you."
She handed him a check for fifty thousand dollars.
"Madam it's much too much. I can not accept such a generous payment."
"It is yours, Mullady. I will not take it back under any circumstances."
"What else do you want me to do."
"Mr. Barker is going away on business the day after tomorrow. You will meet me here at that time at approximately eight o'clock."
"And what else?"
"You are to bring with you a horse, the one I will specify in a minute, and then you will assist me as I am mounted by it."
"That is insane, madam, I won't have any part of it."
"Yes you will. You have accepted the check and now you must do as I say."
"But it will kill you."
"It will kill me if I don't."
"I do not understand."
"Perhaps some day you will. But for now you must just carry out my orders."
"As you wish, madam. Which of the horses shall it be."
She hesitated a long moment before speaking. Her lips and cheeks quivered with the thought of her loving the animal.
Her eyes were half-closed when she spoke. They were drunk and glazed and he knew that she wasn't looking at him but inside herself.
The name of the horse rose from her lips and bolted to his cocked ears like a crack of thunder: "Lightning is the one. Lightning shall be my charge."
And then she passed out and her vibrant body went limp in his strong hands and he rested her on the old chest.
As long as he lives Mullady Mistler shall never forget the events of that hallowed night that finally came to pass.
At a few minutes before eight o'clock he led the charcoal-stallion to the tool shed where the day of destiny awaited the horse.
It seemed to know that something strange and wonderful was about to happen. It was quiet and they moved soundlessly from the stables to the shed.
At eight o'clock Nora tapped on the door and Mullady let her in. She was dressed in a white gown, a wonderful low-cut affair.
The train of her gown left a trail on the dirt floor in its wake. Her heavy breasts rose and fell with her panted breaths.
She began to disrobe in front of Mullady and the horse. It gave a low snort and then bowed its large head to its mistress.
She went to the horse and kissed every inch of its large head and buried her fingers in its soft-blond mane.
She drew her body closer and then rubbed her fine large breasts whose nipples were fully bloated on the horse's face.
She caressed Lightning with her creamy skin and her body glowed in passionate heat from the decadent act of love.
Mullady Mistler found himself becoming terribly aroused from the inhuman spectacle. But he fought down his urges in respect for his mistress. It was her shining moment and he did not want to disturb her with his own selfish passions. She was in a state of high passion.
She moved to the side of the horse and rubbed her lovely hands along its strong flanks and caressed the soft underbelly.
She probed underneath with her hand for that object of desire that had obsessed her to make her fantasy real.
When she touched the massive limp cock she let out a gasp of pleasure and he could see her eyes rolling in her head.
She had a fabulous body. She had large, bulbous hips that were delectably curvaceous for they gave way to the supplest of waists.
Her flesh was firm and it glowed a beet-red that revealed its vigorous lust from laying her hands on the stallion's cock.
She turned her face and sex-drugged eyes gleamed out from her fevered face.
"Mullady, it is time."
Without saying a word Mullady led the horse over to the felt-covered monument. Then he whipped off the cloth.
He heard Nora gasp at the sight of the contraption. With the horse standing right by it the reality of what was about to happen made her swoon in passion.
Mullady led the horse atop the platform. It obediently allowed itself to be positioned properly.
Then he bound the leather harness around its belly and back and the horse was bolted into proper position.
"He is ready, madam."
"Excellent. I will need you. Stay here."
"Whatever madam wants."
He stood away from the platform and watched her approach it. She was bathed in an aura that bespoke of her as a woman of destiny.
She placed her dainty foot onto the platform and then lifted her voluptuous body atop it. Lightning softly whinnied.
She bent low to manage herself into the fur-lined pit that Mullady had expertly constructed to allow for her frame.
She knelt before the horse's huge limp cock. Her face was right in front of it. Mullady could see her nipples bursting with excitement.
He watched her long fingers take the huge cock and then gently fondle it with her soft, white palms.
It was a lustful sight of awe-inspiring passion. To watch a woman give way to a depraved carnal instinct was maddening.
She held the cock in both hands and then rubbed the flaccid tip along her beautiful face and sniffed it.
Her senses were reveling from the touch of the huge cock so close to them and her motions became wilder and wilder.
She quickly grabbed the stanchion to her and hugged it close to her breasts. She planted it in her cleavage.
She mauled her lovely tits around it and played with its massive staff with her trembling hands.
She was trying to control her lust, to keep it in line, so that she would not disturb the precious moment with childish enthusiasm.
She wanted Lightning to give way to her touch willingly. The moment had to be as good for the horse as it was for her.
He saw her draw the stiffening cock up to her lips and then gently flick her tongue all over its entire length.
She was breathing very hard and gasping between flicks of her tongue. The rod was filling with blood and she could feel the surge in her hands.
Then her passion raised to such an intensity that she could no longer control her urges and she took the humongous tip into her hot mouth.
Lightning made a soft-bellowing whinny. He shook a little in his place and began to snort from his rising heat.
It was at that moment that Lightning became a person in the mind of Mullady Mistler. It was no longer a thing.
It was not an inanimate subject devoid of personality or a will of its own. It was a soul complete with the powers of reason.
Lightning could now boast of something that Mullady Mistler never could, that it had made love to Nora Barker.
She was out of her senses with lust. She hugged the monstrous truncheon and mashed it into the folds of her breasts.
Her body was beginning to glow a fiery red color and spit was drooling out of the corners of her risque mouth.
She could no longer control her urge to eat the lusty snake as it grew to tremendous proportions.
She lovingly inserted the bloating tip between her succulent lips and drew it into her mouth.
The stanchion had still not achieved full bloatedness. Yet it was the biggest cock either she or Mullady had ever seen.
Mullady himself became lost in the passion of the moment. His own turgid cock pulsed through his crotch.
He felt as if he was witness to an event that had brought about the fall of man. It was a scene of historic proportions.
Perhaps that is what Nora Barker meant when she insisted to him that to make love to Lightning was an uncontrollable urge.
The horse's long cock was stiffening to rock hardness. The leather-like skin pulled taut in its ebony blackness.
The cock was bathed in the hot spittle of the lustful woman who could not remove her mouth and lips from the instrument.
Both spirits were locked in a fiery lovemaking that was mutually inspired. The horse was no longer an animal.
It was a passion-filled lover that sought to please the woman as she performed her lustful groping.
Lightning never swayed in his position. Though the horse was filled with heat it maintained its composure like an expert stud.
Lightning did not kick in place, or buck and weave its massive flanks in motions preparatory to mounting its mate.
Mullady found himself referring to the animal in his head with a human familiarity. His internal monologue called the animal a HE!
It was no longer Nora and the horse, but Nora and he. Mullady knew that she was experiencing the same sensations.
She cooed at the animal with loving exhortations. She told Lightning that he was the best she had ever had.
She leaned back on her haunches and with heated gasps began to direct the tip of the massive instrument into her hot snatch.
It was an uncomfortable position but one she adopted so that she could see as well as feel the hot meat rasping against her cunt.
It was much too large to admit into her human hole. But she was determined to see her lustful embrace reach fruition.
Lightning remained perfectly calm. To Mullady this seemed an impossible reality. He had watched horses mate before.
And their power as they came together was enormous. One did not want to interfere with two lusty horses as they came together.
She held the giant black snake with one hand and directed it into the folds of her dripping wet gash.
Her other hand braced itself on the fur-lined floor to balance her body that teetered on its haunches with legs spread wide.
Her face was flushed beet-red and her gasping moans told Mullady that the mere touch of the staunch cock on her cunt lips had forced an orgasm to pulse through her.
But her intensity was at such a fever pitch that the spasm did not satiate her brimming fire, merely increased it.
She was determined more than ever to insert the massive truncheon inside her gash of love and feel it deep inside her.
But her heat was making her frantic. She was so hot that her movements were exasperated writhings too jerky to perform the impossible act properly.
For a quick moment she achieved the success whereby the front portion of the massive cockhead managed to penetrate her dripping gash about an inch.
She stared at the minor penetration with eyes bugging out. She could see the bone-hard pole resting in the air from its lodgment in her hole.
She experienced a writhing orgasm from the powerful sight of the stately horsecock barely penetrating her human gash.
It fell out of its slight hold and bobbed up and down from the horse's trembling jerks and her eyes remained glued on it.
Her second orgasm had raised her to the point of no return. Lightning was rock hard and his cock had reached an unbelievable size.
The mere sight of it bobbing in place and glistening wet from her spit and love juice increased her beyond control.
She turned about on her hands and knees. She reached behind her and captured the leather-like tool in her creamy white hand.
The touch of it in her palm was enough to send her off into a spasm of delight. It was a lewd and obscene display of passion.
The knowledge that she was attempting to impale herself with the huge horsecock brought out the beast in her.
She began to inch her ass backward into the cock that she precariously held in her shaky hand.
The monstrous tip banged against the juicy lips of her pulsing pussy while her hand directed it home.
Her entire body glowed a blazing red. Her whole body had assumed the fiery color of her beet-red face and hot cunt.
She managed to once again insert the monstrous head barely into the little opening of her human cunt hole.
She lodged enough of it inside her so that she could remove her hand from the enormous tool and it held itself in place.
With both hands in front of her as she knelt on her knees, she pushed backward to accept more of the huge cock.
She had to really push back with all her strength to get just another inch of that massive instrument buried deeper up her snatch.
From Mullady's vantage point, the scene was beginning to shine in an aura of radiance from the rising heat of both partners.
It was an awesome spectacle to see that two-foot-long cock bone-hard with its monstrous tip embedded inside Nora's hot gash.
She stopped pushing backward to experience another mind-boggling orgasm that brought passionate bleeps of delight rushing out of her sweet throat.
That passion-filled cry hit Lightning's ears and now the horse could no longer control its decadent urge.
Lightning struggled in the leather harness determined to free itself. Now more than ever the horse wanted to mount its mate.
The massive cock was pulsing with anticipation. It had accepted its mistress' loving touches and now wanted satisfaction.
But the contraption that Mullady had engineered was perfect in its strength and design. The horse remained in position.
But its frantic bucking had Nora Barker incensed with the notion that she had achieved the moment she had been waiting for.
She had made her loving horse crazy with passion to enter into her steaming gash. She pushed backward.
Her eyes bulged out of her head from the stupendous pain of entry. Unbelievably another inch of horsecock went inside her.
The pole was buried in place a mere couple of inches but the fabulous width of the huge snake stretching her apart made her crazy.
She beat her fists on the fur-lined floor and groaned in fury. She wanted desperately to accept all of that thing no matter if it killed her.
But, alas, the moment was not to be. The steed was too hot from the groping of its human lover and went over the top.
Now Lightning let out a fierce whinny and the mighty muscles of its flank became taut and showed through the strong frame.
It was coming. With huge gobs of fierce intensity, the horse released its copious load and drenched its mistress.
The creamy elixir on her hot gash brought another thrilling orgasm to the lusty body of the decadent Nora Barker. A bevy of horse come drenched her open cunt and loins. It painted her flanks with it steamy goo.
She was out of her mind with lust and quickly turned about and grabbed the pumping truncheon in her little hands.
In between spurts she managed to lamp her loving mouth on the massive cockhead. Her head jolted back from the blast.
Horse come spilled out of the corners of her mouth. Her eyes rolled in her head from the decadent act of eating it.
More of the steamy goo shot into her willing mouth and she jerked the ebony member as it emptied into her kiss.
It was a vile tasting extract but Nora was too passion filled to allow that fact to deter her depraved instincts.
She had wanted to make love to her horse. And if she could not admit its massive member into her human gash than she would do the next best thing.
Finally the last of the load extricated itself from the horse's balls and now Nora lovingly lapped up the remaining drops.
As Lightning's cock began to become limp, it gleamed from the residue of come and the spit of the lapping woman.
She cleaned the ebony tool free of scum. Then she rubbed the softening member along her beet-red face and breasts.
For the moment she had satiated her insane lust. Lightning's eyes were half-closed from his spent condition.
She let go of the cock and wiped her face clean of the flecks of horse come that had splashed onto her cheeks.
For the time being the minor penetration of the massive horsecock would have to suffice. But there would be a next time.
With a regal expression radiating off her fevered face she removed herself from the fur-lined hole and approached Mullady.
"Mullady, the contraption is a work of art. It held the beast in place perfectly."
"I'm glad madam found it to her liking."
"That will be all for now. Make sure that Lightning gets put back in his stall. In a few days we will repeat the exercise."
"Are you sure that you want to endanger yourself once again?"
"I will not tolerate disobedience, Mullady. You have been the perfect assistant up till now. In a few days the exercise will be repeated."
"Your wish is my command."
CHAPTER FOUR
"Mullady, where's Melanie, have you seen her?"
It was Melanie's sweet-sixteen party and she was nowhere to be seen. All the children and folks were asking for her.
After she had opened the gifts she had walked in the direction of the stables saying that she would be right back.
Carter Marington, a young suitor of Melanie's, had been asking Franklin if he knew where Melanie was.
"I'll find her, sir I think I know where she might be."
Mullady worked his way around the smiling teenagers and their parents who were milling about on the lawn engaged in pleasant conversation.
As he got near the stables he saw the throng of youngsters as they played with some of the horses that had been let out into the fenced-in yard.
Some of them were actually riding the horses and messing up their fine clothes that they had worn to Melanie's party.
Franklin Barker had spared no expense in entertaining his daughter. There was a ton of food and liquors he had ordered for the children and their parents.
There were over a hundred people invited to the shebang. The sweet-sixteen party was a ritual in these parts.
Especially if you were someone as renowned as Franklin Barker. It was your duty to impress with nothing but the best.
And Franklin Barker had spared no expense. He had hoped that the affair would have a positive effect on his neurotic daughter.
But so far it had been an extreme failure. Carter Marington had brought Melanie a corsage, which she brazenly threw to the floor. It was a strange happening because Franklin was
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