The hay is scratchy through the material of my dress but I barely notice, mesmerised by the pretty girls dancing around the pole. Wrapping their ribbons this way and that. The fair buzzes around us, children laughing, pelting through the stalls and around the legs of adults drinking the all-important real ale and having conversations that burst into raucous laughter at the drop of a flat cap.
This is the nearest village, the one with the cosy pub and only store for miles around. Today is their May Fair, my first real fair and it’s so very exciting.
They’re starting to know us now, although it doesn’t worry Daddy like it did in the big cities. We tell them very little. I’ve learned that’s important. “No matter what they say Blade, just smile like a good girl.” So I do, I twirl my dress and I nod along to whatever they’re saying.
I don’t tell them where we live or what we do or how we came to be. But I do shake my head in mutual disapproval when they say, “That farm up the way, they used to bring their wares, you know… but how rude, they wrote us to say they don’t supply to us anymore. Tsk tsk.” I pretend to understand when they say they all shun them now based on letters received just after we arrived here.
“Two can play at that game.” The lady behind the till told me one day, shortly before slipping me a wink and an extra chocolate mouse in the paper-bag of goodies.
The kitty cat we adopted begged for them so prettily. They do that when mice are the only meal they can scavenge. “Like proper farm cats!” Daddy told me.
The lady waves at me as we pass, having set up a stall from her shop here in the field full of joyous celebration. There are lots of faces I don’t recognise too. “They come from the villages all around Blade.” Daddy whispers to me. Daddy knows so much.
I gaze up at him adoringly and almost walk full pelt into the nubile young thing in denim shorts. She’s dancing around in a circle of clones, the only difference the shade of plastic flowers in their hair.
“They come from all around,” Daddy explains, “for this…”
Gesturing at the handsome stage set up at the bottom of the field. It’s impressive, looking oversized in the humble field, with stacks of expensive looking equipment pushed to the side of the stage.
Right now there’s a solo singer and his guitar crooning into the microphone but it’s early still, not even the afternoon. I wonder what’s planned for later, who will put all the fancy amps to use.
Daddy pulls me to the side, under the shade of a tree and onto his lap. He speaks softly, directly into my ear. I listen intently, pretending not to be affected by his hand moving underneath my dress and wrangling my panties to one side.
“We’ve stumbled onto a gem my darkling… shhh now… don’t let them know, Daddy’s little secret… What we have here is an annual event, one that should be a tiny little village celebration, except of course, that every year, the band that made it big come back to play their home town.”
I squirm as he pushes rough fingers into the folds of Daddy’s flower. I don’t buck though, desperate as I want to. I keep my face calm. My dress spills out in a wide circle over my knees disguising the motion of Daddy’s hand inside of me.
“Thank goodness…,” he smiles, “for their misguided desire to stick to their roots.” He bites down gently now, making it look like a sweet kiss on my neck. A kiss with teeth.
“Thank goodness…” He laughs, “for the girls that follow them in flocks! Tonight my sweetness, those flocks become ours.”
A gasp from me gives away my closeness. “Wait.” He instructs, “….hold it.” Withdrawing too quickly and denying my release. “Not yet.” Daddy winks at me. “We have so much more fun to come.”
The fair provides all manner of innocent entertainment, hooking ducks, smashing plates and various shows provided by the local schools. The weather blooms into glorious afternoon sunshine, lubricating the alcohol flow and encouraging exposed skin, turning gently pink. Daddy keeps me in the shade mostly, watching, licking on ice lollies and sampling from the baking competition.
I’m confused when Daddy leads me away before the main event, as the field gets increasingly flooded with the same brand of teenage girl, all eager rampant hormones. The clothes get skimpier as they get older, much to the dismay and tutting of the village elders who slip away to the pub when the music begins to creep up.
“Why aren’t we staying Daddy? I like the music. I want to seeeee.” I complain, quick to correct myself. “Please, sir, if we may?” He simply shakes his head and continues on the path.
I recognise where we’re headed, it’s the same campsite we’ve been to before, the only one for miles around with occasional opportunity for play-friends. Daddy finds them, the drifters, camping on their own, the ones that won’t be missed. My Daddy could charm the birds from the trees if he chose to.
I recognise the entrance but I don’t recognise what lies within, there’s a whole other party here, tents fill the entire field, for as far as the eye can see. Music blasts from various points, the music lapping over each other like walking through a festival. Their inhabitants must be at the fair, besides the few crashed out under gazebos and tucked away in tents.
“This Blade, is where we gather our flock.”
I clap with glee. Daddy has done to so much work to prepare the studs, the bulls to breed our little farm. I’m eager for the patter of tiny paws, for baby animals to care for. Daddy has prepared me; it will be a lot of work, a lot of TLC for the animals. “Rearing isn’t for the faint hearted” He’d warned me, “You’ll have to be careful with them, not like your toys. These will be our livestock, our future.”
Confused I turn to face him, “But Daddy,” I query with innocent eyes. “How will we fetch them? We have no supplies, no rope, no shackles. How will we make them come?”
“With this, my sweetling.” He explains, opening his bag to reveal rows of little teeny plastic baggies with rocks of varying sizes filling them up.
“Love potion!” I exclaim. I remember this, I remember this from the city. Oooooh, this is exciting. This is different from usual, a new approach. Persuasion rather than coercion.
Sweeping in with the charm offensive Daddy finds an older girl with a big cigarette that smells funny hanging from between her fingers, she looks like she might be sleeping, slumped in the chair. That is until she pulls it to her mouth and takes a drag. She engages with my Daddy, of course she does, and she seems very interested in what he’s selling.
“Yeah fam,” I hear her begin, “We’ve been here for a few days ready for the gig, stocks are bare low. I know peeps that will buy for sure.” Without dismissing him she takes to her mobile, attached to a square device presumably to keep her connected out here in the sticks. She uses a vernacular I barely understand but manage to gather from context that we should wait.
She’s quite pretty really, with supple smooth legs and porcelain skin under the crochet top that barely covers her modesty. She finally removes her sunglasses to allow Daddy close enough to kiss her. She makes eye contact with me first, encouraged by my nods and smiles.
We don’t bother to move inside to privacy, the campsite deserted as it is and the warm sun turning tents into saunas at this time of day. Daddy continues to kiss her, tugging gently at her nipples, easily freed from the flimsy top. With a nod of consent I begin kisses up her thigh, she’s very open, keen to encourage us both. She even pulls her skirt up to allow my access, soft kisses where her underwear should be. She moans quietly, clearly accustomed to this kind of encounter, she’s barely phased at these strangers and their advances. I wonder if Daddy’s little sample is helping.
He provides a little more, a tiny white wrap with a tail that doesn’t even touch the sides. Her enlarged pupils engulf me as she pulls me in for a passionate kiss, one hand firmly under my jaw and the other attempting to free Daddy from his jeans.
I help her, like Daddy’s good girl. I help her with the buttons and then I help her by demonstrating, showing her how to move her tongue, combine it with her hands, synchronised on either side. She learns quickly, copying my deft movements.
Her throat is well trained too, she doesn’t hesitate in taking him all as I bury my licking tongue between Daddy’s legs. He keeps an encouraging hand on each of us, murmuring a quiet “Good girls”.
I’m sure her fingers working their way under my dress would be just as expert but I don’t get the opportunity to find out before we’re interrupted, her mobile emitting a jarring bleeping. “Sorry…” she offers, withdrawing her inquisitive hands to take the call.
Daddy kisses me deeply, praising my part in our seduction. “My clever girl.” he whispers as the girl yammers. Once again her vocabulary is alien to me, not that I want her words, my now bucking hips want her body, pressed up against me and writhing. I want to bite and scratch through her perfect skin and hear her scream with sweet agony…
It distracts my mind as I try to focus in on her words. Luckily Daddy demonstrates more control, tucking his still ragingly hard cock away subtly as they converse.
Our new farm family are on their way back.
We hear them before we see them in the fading light of the setting sun. Whooping and riled up, still singing the most popular of songs from the local-act-done-good. The move like a swarm, clearly imbibed on the indulgences of the fair. The smell of cheap cider buzzing around them.
Brazen in their approach, you’d forget that the transactions were illegal. Their openness and enthusiasm for consuming the happy medicine amuses me. In the most hedonistic of acts they seem determined as a collective to drain the resources completely dry. “Yolo” and “Fuck it!” thrown around as toasts to the volume thrown down their throats.
They barely take any persuading to move up to the farm in the morning, those that have stricter homes and curfews already having left to catch the only bus to the nearest train station in the early hours. “Ain’t no one expecting me,” smiles one boy, with his arms wrapped around two girls in a state of undress. Daddy’s special rocks had the desired effect, inhibitions don’t exist in their world right now.
They look to Daddy as their leader, the provider of what they desire. They look to him with collective reverence. “We have vast fields up there, you can camp for as long as you like, stay as long as you choose. Let’s keep the party going.” The last message received with a cheer and a gentle scramble to begin gathering belongings.
Our little flock, voluntarily making their own way up to our forever home. Daddy takes them the long way, so as to avoid prying eyes. We don’t use the main entrance but come via the very fields being offered. Fields that they quickly set up in, sharing food, making their camp for the night and eagerly awaiting the promised batch of new supplies in the morning; Daddy waving away any offer of money.
“My gift to you,” he smiles, further increasing the adoration beaming from the congregation.
I clap with glee as Daddy carries me up the field towards home, the cosy cottage with our big bed, welcomed after a night of revelry. “Oh Daddy,” I squeal, safely out of hearing distance, “they’re going to be so happy here. We can train them and breed them and make them such an obedient flock. They’re quite obedient already and so excited for everything!”
“Yes, my Blade.” Daddy says softly, “This is exactly what I’ve been seeking. Good, docile animals to show you the gift of life. We can start straight away, I’m prepared and they’re even better than I could imagine” He looks over the at the bulls in their cages, rampant and pawing at the ground.
“Yes,” Daddy goes on, “This is the simplicity I want for us. We have our flock gathered my Darkling. Now real farm life can begin. All under my charge.”