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She was born Elizabeth Margaret Manchester. She'd never known her mother as her mother had died during childbirth. Her father, Edward Manchester became both Father and Mother to her. English immigrants, her grandparents had come over from England at the turn of the century, along with their son Edward, who would one day become her father.

Named after both her mother, and her grandmother, her father had nicknamed her "Maggie". The same name he had affectionately called his wife for so many wonderful, yet short-lived years spent together.

Edward had no formal education, no formal training of any sort. But he was good with his hands, having an intelligent mind that could think through any problem, solving it. As such, he wandered the country hiring out as a handyman, taking Maggie with him of course wherever they traveled. Often, he did odd jobs simply for room and board, along with enough to eat to barely sustain the two of them.

Once the work he'd been commissioned to do was completed, they'd find themselves off on the road again in search of employment, another place to stay, as well as another meal to fill their bellies. Occasionally Edward would get lucky and find someone who had enough for him to do to keep him employed for a couple of weeks or more. It was during one of these rare periods that his daughter now barely fifteen had witnessed which would be for her, her first sexual encounter, something she would remember for the rest of her life.

Edward had been very careful about protecting his daughter, especially around any young men or boys who might have other intentions. He would often move on, rather than taking a job no matter how promising it might be, if there were young men hanging around who might take an interest in Maggie. At fifteen, virginal, Maggie was a very naïve and even worse... curious.

With the onset of the depression, Edward was finding it more and more difficult finding jobs. As such, he knew he was taking a big risk as far as Maggie's innocence was concerned. Hesitant when he finally found work, because of the young woman he met who was only slightly older than Maggie, and who appeared a little too loose in her mannerisms than he would have preferred, he nevertheless took the job offered as they were scraping the bottom of their financial barrel.

As was often the case, they'd been given a place in the barn. It was warm, dry, providing them plenty of comfort as well as a place to sleep. Maggie's father had already risen, going out very early that morning with Mr. Brown who owned and ran the particular farm they were staying at. Her "father" as she affectionately called him was out mending fences and would no doubt be away all day. Maggie had already finished the chores she'd been instructed to help out with, returning to the barn in order to finish reading a book she'd recently been given by her father on her previous birthday. She'd found a secluded little spot up in the hayloft where she could read, dream and fantasize about far away places without being disturbed. It was the sound of a woman's hushed laughter that alerted her to remain quiet however as she peered down from her place of concealment into the area below her.

"Shhh. Hurry. We don't have much time," the young woman said giggling. Maggie saw the young girl recognizing her almost immediately. Kathryn as she'd been introduced two days prior when her father had found work. Kathryn as Maggie had learned was already eighteen, engaged to be married from what she'd discovered earlier. But it certainly wasn't to the man she saw Kathryn standing there with now. She'd met him too. No, this was one of the other hired hands that lived and worked the fields that she was with. Maggie watched as they both hurriedly began undressing themselves as well as one another.

From her vantage point she watched as the hired hand leaned over to cup and attempt to kiss one of Kathryn's beautifully pink-tipped breasts.

"I told you, we don't have time for that," she cautioned him a bit worriedly. "You're supposed to be on your way to help father. And I'm supposed to be gathering eggs. So, if you want to fuck me, you'd best get on with it before we run out of time!"

Maggie watched as Kathryn hiked up the dress she had on, revealing that she wasn't wearing anything beneath it. A fact she found both appalling as well as strangely exciting as she came to think upon it later. More importantly, she wondered about two things. What had the word "fuck," meant? She'd never ever heard that particular word used before for one thing. And for the other, what were they doing?

To say that Maggie was naive in the ways of the world was an understatement. Her father had always been reserved, over protective, as she'd later come to think on it. Even when she had come upon her 'curses' as women called them, her father had taken her to a local town doctor to have him explain that particular malady to her. Something of which she had felt embarrassed about for days afterwards, especially as she would often force her father to stop in his travels so that she could take care of this most unwelcome, but very necessary problem. But Maggie was even more innocent when it came to anything of a sexual nature. She knew where babies came from, that much she had actually guessed. But as for the mechanics as to how they got there, she was clueless. It was an almost magical occurrence as far as she was concerned. Married people simply had babies. Which was the extent of her understanding regarding that particular subject.

"Come on! Aren't you hard enough yet?" she heard Kathryn ask. Maggie watched as Kathryn positioned herself directly below her in one of the unused, freshly cleaned stables. Hiking up her skirts, she saw a thick black patch of hair between Kathryn's legs, not all that dissimilar from her own. But what immediately caught her attention, nearly taking her breath away as well as almost causing her to gasp out in surprise, was the sudden appearance of the young man's fleshy bare ass as he pulled his pants down hovering over Kathryn were he stood.

"You mean this?" Maggie heard him say, but unable to see what the "this" was he was referring to.

"Yeah, that!" Kathryn had responded almost dreamily beckoning towards him with her hands, imploring him to join her.

"Not until you say it," he demanded teasingly. "Come on, you want it. Say it!"

"You're horrible Phillip. You're a horrible, horrible man to make a woman say such things. To have her speak such naughty despicable words!" The tone Maggie heard Kathryn using however was anything but shock, anger or even repulsion. It was if anything, unbridled excitement!

"What is going on?" she wondered again to herself, beginning to feel the first signs of some sort of tingling taking place between her legs. Something she had felt a few brief times before, but had always feared it to be the beginnings of her monthly curses.

"Well?" Phillip asked once again. "You're the one who's in a hurry," he reminded her.

"Cock, prick, penis!" Kathryn said spitting the words at him, though once again not in horror or anger, but with an amused, almost affectionate tone of voice.

Maggie was confused, curious. She'd heard the word "Cock" before of course, a name describing a male rooster. And "Prick" certainly. She'd used that particular word herself whenever she had pricked, or poked at something. And embarrassedly, she knew what a penis was too. She'd once asked her father what his 'thing' was when she'd seen him off standing by the side of the road relieving himself. She'd seen babies' penises of course, but had never thought to ask about what that particular appendage was. Only upon seeing her father's had she thought to actually wonder about it. And he had told her simply it was a "penis" that and nothing more. "Men had them, women didn't." Simple enough an explanation for her perhaps. Then. Now, hearing the three distinct words being used together to describe what Kathryn was obviously looking at took on a whole new meaning for her.

"Now, are you going to fuck me or not?" Kathryn asked him once again, using that same word she'd used earlier.

"Fuck?" What did it mean? Maggie wondered silently. Even saying it silently to herself gave her an odd sense, something secretive, something curiously wicked. Whatever "fuck" meant, it had something to do with whatever Phillip and Kathryn were preparing to do.

Maggie watched as Phillip finally lowered himself over Kathryn. Watched as Kathryn spread both of her bare legs to either side of him so that he was positioned directly between them. A moment later they began moving together. A moment after that Kathryn began moaning, pleasurably for some reason. Whatever it was that Phillip was doing to her, it felt good. Even more inexplicably, Maggie felt a trickle of moisture gather between her legs, momentary panic settling in as she quickly checked herself, worried that her curses had taken this particular moment to start, relieved when she found they hadn't. Even so, she became rather 'wet' as she continued to lie there listening to the two of them below her, wondering... wondering what it was they were doing? But even more importantly, why were the two of them enjoying it so much as evidenced by Kathryn's deep groans of obvious pleasure.

The sounds of their coupling, though Maggie still had no real idea what it was she was seeing, let alone listening to, had heightened her own awareness that something interesting was taking place below her. Something that obviously felt good, and brought a significant amount of pleasure to both of them. Kathryn continued to moan, groan, thrashing herself almost violently beneath Phillip. He in turn began bumping against Kathryn faster and faster until she screamed, followed a moment later by his equally deep-throated grunt.

As time was short obviously, Kathryn made Phillip get up from her. When he did, Maggie saw his semi-rigid "penis" as he stood, turning towards the side as she glanced down between the slats in the upper loft above them. Phillip's penis was easily twice the size her father's had been when she had seen his. And she now knew without any doubt as to what he'd been using it for. The thought of a man somehow putting something like that inside of her seemed foreign, yet at the same time, wickedly wonderful as she relived the lusty naughty sounds that the two of them had been making together.

Looking down at Kathryn, she now saw something else too. Several white slimy trails seemed to be coating the course black mat and belly of Kathryn's womanhood.

"It's a good thing you didn't squirt inside me," she told him. "I'm too far from my courses yet to let you do that," she added. "And I don't desire to find myself with a child quite yet either! Though that idiot I'm engaged to would certainly love thinking it was his," she added thoughtfully.

Maggie had to stifle a loud gasp, balling her fist against her mouth as realization dawned on her like a tidal wave. So much made sense to her now, within the blink of an eye. Something she would have never dared to ask her father about certainly, nor would he have in all likelihood even answered her had she asked.

"Except with his belt perhaps," Maggie mused once again looking down through the slats in the flooring.

Phillip helped her to stand. Maggie watched as Kathryn straightened her skirts while Phillip helped her to remove bits of straw that had clung to her, including her hair. "Now... you'd best get a move on and go find Daddy and that other man he hired. They're probably wondering where you are already," she told him. "By the way. Have you seen Maggie today? Mother told me to find her and send her into her if I did. So keep an eye out for her would you? Hell, she's probably out frigging herself someplace, foolish girl."

"Well, if she is off frigging herself someplace, you'd best hope I'm not the one to be finding her, or I might want to be fucking her as well," he'd said teasingly.

This time Kathryn's look was menacing, every bit as much as the tone of voice that she now used. "I ever catch you so much as looking at that girl, I'll tear your fucking eyes out with my own hands!" she warned him seriously.

To Maggie's relief, the two of them left a few moments later. Feeling the moisture, which had continued to flow, continuing to pool between her legs, Maggie reached down wanting to ensure that nothing else was happening. Though she didn't do it often, if hardly ever at all, she placed her finger between her legs, drawing it up to look for any telltale signs. When she did however, she experienced something she had never felt before. An entirely new and different sensation. It felt good, really good. But before she could further explore what it was she'd just discovered, she heard the sound of Mrs. Brown calling out for her. Scrambling down from her place of concealment, she quickly ran around the other side of the barn so that neither Phillip nor Kathryn might expect where it was that she had been hiding. Luckily, neither of them did. Unluckily, Mrs. Brown needed the pigs fed.

It was well after sunset, long after dinner had been eaten with everything cleaned and cleared away, which Maggie had helped with of course. She had made up her bed, unfolding the blankets she'd been given along with a pillow for her head. Her father had settled into the vacant stall next to hers, the very one that she had seen Phillip and Kathryn "fucking" in earlier, she thought.

"Father?" she had asked tentatively, her curiosity getting the better of her reasoning.

"Yes Maggie?" he'd answered her a moment later, hearing him as he laid out his own blankets in preparation for sleep.

"What does the word 'fuck' mean?" she asked innocently.

Maggie was stunned, shocked, surprised to put it mildly when her father suddenly appeared in the opening of her stall, belt in hand with the most fearsome look upon his face she'd ever seen before.

"Don't ever... ever say that word again! Do you hear me?" he demanded in a voice she had never heard her father use before.

Maggie looked at him numbly, frightened now as he moved towards her folding the belt over once as he did.

"Turn over, onto your belly!" he demanded of her. Maggie remembered only being spanked once by her father, and then, only with his hand. He had threatened her with his belt but had never used it. Doing so only as a warning to her to behave and never talk back to him again. Which she hadn't. Seeing the belt this time however, she hoped for a warning, but knew in her heart as he had told her to roll over, that this time it wouldn't be.

"Thwap!" The first sting to her ass came as a shock to her. The thin material of her nightgown and underwear giving little or no protection from the stinging edge of the leather as it came down hard upon her sensitive flesh. Maggie expected another, hearing only the sound of her father's exasperation and the sound of the belt being thrown off to the side of the stall angrily.

"Let that be a reminder to you. Do NOT speak such filth in my presence ever again!" her father screamed at her. But Maggie could also tell by the tone of his voice, that he was confused, frustrated perhaps. Just as angry with himself as he was at her as he turned and walked away back towards his stall. Seconds later he blew out their only lantern without even saying goodnight to his daughter. Maggie curled up inside her blankets, the sting of her father's belt still fresh across the backside of her ass. In the darkness, she heard her father speak, asking in tones almost too low to hear, apologetic in a way without saying so.

"Where was it that you heard that word?" he asked her. "And don't lie to me Maggie, I will know it if you do. What did you see and hear?" he asked again a little more sternly.

Maggie had never lied to him before. She feared his anger in her lying to him every bit as much as in telling him how she had come to know this word. But she found in telling him to be the lesser of two evils. So she did.

It was the first time that Maggie ever remembered her father leaving a job early before. Especially one in which there was actual payment, let alone room, board and meals included. He had waited until sunrise to inform Mr. Brown they were leaving. Mr. Brown had attempted to convince them to stay, even offering a meager increase to his wages as her father had proven himself to be reliable and hard working. To her surprise, her father declined, accepting payment meager as it was for the work he had done, opting instead to leave, saying nothing more than he had a promise to keep, and needed to be on the road, immediately.

She had walked by her father's side for several hours in silence. The single red welt upon her ass a reminder of her father's anger with her. But a curious question mark too, for why had he stopped after only one?

"I'm sorry," he said simply after a time. Maggie remained silent. She wasn't exactly angry with him, merely confused. Obviously there was much she didn't understand, much that she wished to understand better. Especially about herself, about the feeling she had experienced between her legs by the touch of her own finger. Not to mention why "fucking" seemed to be so pleasurable. And if indeed it was, why then was it something her father would consider so wrong?

"You're almost a woman grown," he said a moment later. "I realized that back there in the barn. I've put off doing what I've known all along would eventually need to be done. There's much you need to know," he stated turning to look at her, his face aflame with embarrassment. "But those are things I cannot explain or tell you about," he added quickly. "You need to live someplace where you can be schooled too. Not out wandering the countryside with me. I know such a place, I know a woman who will take you in as though you were her own," he told her with a measure of finality.

"But father! I don't want to live someplace without you!" Maggie began to cry. He had said nothing more to her about it as they walked along in silence; only the gentle comfort of his strong arm around her shoulder told her that he was no longer angry or mad at her. But she also knew that once his mind was made up about something, there was no changing it. With fear and dread burning deeply within her soul, Maggie walked beside him towards the beginning of a new life.

Several days later Maggie and her father had managed to hitchhike half way across Texas. They arrived at a small town still several miles away from San Antonio. It was here that Maggie's father introduced her to a woman he had known. Though how he had gotten to know her so well, or obviously so intimately was a mystery to her. He'd never mentioned the woman to her before.

"May? I'd like to introduce you to my daughter," he'd said. "This is Maggie."

May was an exceptionally attractive woman for as old as she obviously was. Maggie found it odd that she was single, never having been married for as attractive as she was especially at her age. And though she didn't exactly live alone as she ran a boarding house, thus having plenty of guests most of the time, Maggie found the woman to be warm and friendly towards her. Especially upon learning that she was Edward's daughter.

"How long has it been Ed?" May had asked almost affectionately. Perhaps a little too affectionately it seemed in fact to Maggie when they had arrived. She'd also noticed a warning look seemingly pass from her father to May as they stood out on the porch together. May had seemed to pick up on the look, quickly inviting them both in without pressing the question further. "Why don't you let me get the two of you something to eat and drink?" she asked.

"I think Maggie would like that," her father had said with a relieved tone of voice that Maggie immediately picked up on. "And then maybe you and I can go back outside onto the porch and chat for a moment or two," he'd indicated with another knowing look cast in Mays direction.

May had taken the hint; fixed Maggie a sandwich along with some fruit, cheese and a nice cold glass of milk before pouring herself and Maggie's father an iced tea. "May and I have some business to discuss," he'd told her. "You sit in here, enjoy your lunch while we talk." Edward had let her know in no uncertain terms that they weren't to be disturbed.

Later that evening her father let her in on what he'd been talking to May about. Maggie learned that she was to live here with her, helping out with the boarders she took in, attending one of the nearby schools during the day in order to further her neglected education. He told her how he would be gone for long periods of time while he sought employment, doing what he did best, traveling around trying to make ends meet and save a little money up for the two of them. Times had been hard; there had been the depression. And now it seemed, war was coming. It was the talk on everyone's mind these days.

Her father had stayed on for three days before leaving bright and early one morning as he'd indicated he would do. It was the last time Maggie would ever see her father again. She heard weeks later he had been killed in an accident crushed by a bailing machine on a farm he'd been working at shortly after his arrival. Worse, the news didn't even reach her for several weeks, as no one knew for sure where his daughter even was or lived. If May hadn't noticed a small tiny article in an old newspaper about her father's death, she might not have ever known. And so it was, May became her best friend, confidant and mentor.

Maggie had turned seventeen, having lived with May now ever since her fathers death. Together she helped May run the boarding house. Business was booming as they lived fairly close to the train station. As late, things had been pretty hectic. People seemed to be constantly coming and going, which was especially odd for this time of year with winter approaching. It was November 1941 and was proving to be one of the coldest winters on record, especially for San Antonio.

Maggie had been sitting inside with May one evening when she finally worked up the courage to ask her how it was that May knew her father. May smiled, gave Maggie a sorrowed look, setting down her needlework that she'd been working on as she did nearly every night after the sun went down.

"Do you really want to know?" she'd asked.

"Yes. Yes I would. And please... tell me everything, I need to know."

May's smile was reassuring, though sorrowful at the same time. "I met your father a long time ago," she began. "Probably around your age he was, just having entered the army. That was during the BIG war of course, and he was anxious to go over seas and fight for his country. Thankfully the war ended before he was ever shipped over."

"So how did you meet him?" Maggie asked interrupting her, curious more than ever. May laughed, almost blushing as she sat back closing her eyes, remembering.

"Back then, I didn't run a house, I worked in one."

"You mean a boarding house? Like this one?" Maggie asked.

"No, a different kind of house Maggie. You see, I was a prostitute at the time, or a lady of the evening as I preferred to call myself," she added.

Maggie was shocked. Not so much that May had admitted to being one of "those" kinds of women. But shocked that her father had actually, knowingly gone to her. Even if it was before he'd met and married her mother.

"You mean to tell me that father... and you?"

May smiled. "No, he didn't know it at the time. Back then we working girls didn't actually live at our place of employment. I lived at the same place your father was staying at. Another boarding house not much different than the one I'm running now. We used to go out in the evenings for long walks whenever I wasn't working. And as strange as it may seem, I decided to never tell him what it was I actually did for a living. One evening, we ended back at the house. The old lady who ran the place had left for a few days to attend her sister's funeral. It just so happened that your father and I were the only two people staying, and living there at the time. So it was, we spent the night together. I took his virginity. He of course immediately proposed marriage afterwards. And it was then that I felt like I had to tell him the truth about myself. Which I did. Your father left the following morning. I didn't hear from him again for nearly three years. Then one day, he came through town. I was still a working girl, but I had been trying to save up enough money to get out of the business and buy my own place, a boarding house. He had come back for me. But not in the way I had hoped he would, nor even in the way I had expected. He came through long enough to tell me two things. One, that he'd never forgotten me, and because of that, he'd managed to save up enough money to give to me so that I could buy that boarding house, get out of the life I'd been living."

"And two?" Maggie asked.

"And two, that he had gotten married, and his wife was pregnant. He had no desire to do anything with me, nor did he expect for me to ever pay him back for what he had done for me. But one thing he did ask, which I promised him I would do. And that was, if for any reason he needed a favor from me in return, he would consider that as payment in full for what he had given me. A new life."

Maggie sat back digesting everything that May had told her about her father. She realized then and there that there was so much she didn't know about him or about herself for that matter.

"Am I that favor?" Maggie asked her. Once again May gave her a knowing smile.

"But one in which I accept gladly," she told Maggie. "You see, I found out early on that I would never be able to bare children of my own. It was one of the reasons I never married. Not many men wanted a wife who was barren for one thing. And for the other, no man wanted a woman who had once lived the sort of life that I had either."

"What was it like?" Maggie asked cautiously. "What I mean is... what is it like being with a man anyway?" Now it was May's turn to look surprised.

"How old are you?" she asked again.

Maggie blushed. "Seventeen, Eighteen in three months, remember?"

"Yes, I know. I just wanted to know if you knew how old you were. A lot of women your age are already married by now." May's comment wasn't meant to be stinging, but Maggie heard the implication. She really was way too innocent. "So you mean to tell me, you've never ever been with a man?"

"No! Never!" Maggie exclaimed almost indignantly. Just as quickly blushing as she remembered that day not so long ago when she had witnessed Kathryn and Phillip "fucking" in the barn below her.

Long into the night they spoke. Maggie asked, May answered. Maggie's eyes grew wide as she learned about womanhood, femininity. And more importantly, the pleasures that a man and a woman could enjoy and experience with one another. One thing May did that her father could never do, was answer her personal intimate questions. Perhaps it was one reason why after that episode in the barn her father had decided to bring her here. To find out from an expert. Someone who knew, and who wouldn't feel squeamish or shy about answering her questions. All of them. And as Maggie found out, she had a lot of questions to ask.

Maggie soon settled in to her new life. Business was brisk. For the first time in recent memory according to May, it was the first time in a long time that the boarding house was filled. With the threat of war on every radio, every newspaper, enlistments were up. Young men everywhere were either joining the services or thinking about it. As they did, job openings became available. Men from nearly everywhere were coming to town looking for work now that the great depression seemed to finally be over with. As such, Maggie was busy all day long from dawn to dusk. Cleaning rooms, helping with the three guaranteed meals for their guests, Maggie had little if any time for herself any more.

"Maggie?" May had asked her while ironing sheets and bedding one evening just before retiring.

"Yes?"

"We need to go upstairs and make up the bed for our new boarder," she'd told her. "You know, Mr. Peterson. Anyway, I didn't have any fresh linen at the time. Would you mind running these up and making the bed before he starts complaining?" she'd asked.

"Yes May," Maggie said gathering up the freshly laundered, ironed sheets. By the time she had reached his room, he was on his way down to "inquire" about his bedding as he'd told her in the hallway. Maggie had apologized profusely, indicating to him in the hall that she was on her way up when she had stumbled into him. He hadn't scolded her really, in fact, seemed rather polite given the late hour and all. Maggie quickly scurried to his room and began making the bed, hearing him having entered behind her, closing the door as he did.

She was born Elizabeth Margaret Manchester. She'd never known her mother as her mother had died during childbirth. Her father, Edward Manchester became both Father and Mother to her. English immigrants, her grandparents had come over from England at the turn of the century, along with their son Edward, who would one day become her father.

Named after both her mother, and her grandmother, her father had nicknamed her "Maggie". The same name he had affectionately called his wife for so many wonderful, yet short-lived years spent together.

Edward had no formal education, no formal training of any sort. But he was good with his hands, having an intelligent mind that could think through any problem, solving it. As such, he wandered the country hiring out as a handyman, taking Maggie with him of course wherever they traveled. Often, he did odd jobs simply for room and board, along with enough to eat to barely sustain the two of them.

Once the work he'd been commissioned to do was completed, they'd find themselves off on the road again in search of employment, another place to stay, as well as another meal to fill their bellies. Occasionally Edward would get lucky and find someone who had enough for him to do to keep him employed for a couple of weeks or more. It was during one of these rare periods that his daughter now barely fifteen had witnessed which would be for her, her first sexual encounter, something she would remember for the rest of her life.

Edward had been very careful about protecting his daughter, especially around any young men or boys who might have other intentions. He would often move on, rather than taking a job no matter how promising it might be, if there were young men hanging around who might take an interest in Maggie. At fifteen, virginal, Maggie was a very naïve and even worse... curious.

With the onset of the depression, Edward was finding it more and more difficult finding jobs. As such, he knew he was taking a big risk as far as Maggie's innocence was concerned. Hesitant when he finally found work, because of the young woman he met who was only slightly older than Maggie, and who appeared a little too loose in her mannerisms than he would have preferred, he nevertheless took the job offered as they were scraping the bottom of their financial barrel.

As was often the case, they'd been given a place in the barn. It was warm, dry, providing them plenty of comfort as well as a place to sleep. Maggie's father had already risen, going out very early that morning with Mr. Brown who owned and ran the particular farm they were staying at. Her "father" as she affectionately called him was out mending fences and would no doubt be away all day. Maggie had already finished the chores she'd been instructed to help out with, returning to the barn in order to finish reading a book she'd recently been given by her father on her previous birthday. She'd found a secluded little spot up in the hayloft where she could read, dream and fantasize about far away places without being disturbed. It was the sound of a woman's hushed laughter that alerted her to remain quiet however as she peered down from her place of concealment into the area below her.

"Shhh. Hurry. We don't have much time," the young woman said giggling. Maggie saw the young girl recognizing her almost immediately. Kathryn as she'd been introduced two days prior when her father had found work. Kathryn as Maggie had learned was already eighteen, engaged to be married from what she'd discovered earlier. But it certainly wasn't to the man she saw Kathryn standing there with now. She'd met him too. No, this was one of the other hired hands that lived and worked the fields that she was with. Maggie watched as they both hurriedly began undressing themselves as well as one another.

From her vantage point she watched as the hired hand leaned over to cup and attempt to kiss one of Kathryn's beautifully pink-tipped breasts.

"I told you, we don't have time for that," she cautioned him a bit worriedly. "You're supposed to be on your way to help father. And I'm supposed to be gathering eggs. So, if you want to fuck me, you'd best get on with it before we run out of time!"

Maggie watched as Kathryn hiked up the dress she had on, revealing that she wasn't wearing anything beneath it. A fact she found both appalling as well as strangely exciting as she came to think upon it later. More importantly, she wondered about two things. What had the word "fuck," meant? She'd never ever heard that particular word used before for one thing. And for the other, what were they doing?

To say that Maggie was naive in the ways of the world was an understatement. Her father had always been reserved, over protective, as she'd later come to think on it. Even when she had come upon her 'curses' as women called them, her father had taken her to a local town doctor to have him explain that particular malady to her. Something of which she had felt embarrassed about for days afterwards, especially as she would often force her father to stop in his travels so that she could take care of this most unwelcome, but very necessary problem. But Maggie was even more innocent when it came to anything of a sexual nature. She knew where babies came from, that much she had actually guessed. But as for the mechanics as to how they got there, she was clueless. It was an almost magical occurrence as far as she was concerned. Married people simply had babies. Which was the extent of her understanding regarding that particular subject.

"Come on! Aren't you hard enough yet?" she heard Kathryn ask. Maggie watched as Kathryn positioned herself directly below her in one of the unused, freshly cleaned stables. Hiking up her skirts, she saw a thick black patch of hair between Kathryn's legs, not all that dissimilar from her own. But what immediately caught her attention, nearly taking her breath away as well as almost causing her to gasp out in surprise, was the sudden appearance of the young man's fleshy bare ass as he pulled his pants down hovering over Kathryn were he stood.

"You mean this?" Maggie heard him say, but unable to see what the "this" was he was referring to.

"Yeah, that!" Kathryn had responded almost dreamily beckoning towards him with her hands, imploring him to join her.

"Not until you say it," he demanded teasingly. "Come on, you want it. Say it!"

"You're horrible Phillip. You're a horrible, horrible man to make a woman say such things. To have her speak such naughty despicable words!" The tone Maggie heard Kathryn using however was anything but shock, anger or even repulsion. It was if anything, unbridled excitement!

"What is going on?" she wondered again to herself, beginning to feel the first signs of some sort of tingling taking place between her legs. Something she had felt a few brief times before, but had always feared it to be the beginnings of her monthly curses.

"Well?" Phillip asked once again. "You're the one who's in a hurry," he reminded her.

"Cock, prick, penis!" Kathryn said spitting the words at him, though once again not in horror or anger, but with an amused, almost affectionate tone of voice.

Maggie was confused, curious. She'd heard the word "Cock" before of course, a name describing a male rooster. And "Prick" certainly. She'd used that particular word herself whenever she had pricked, or poked at something. And embarrassedly, she knew what a penis was too. She'd once asked her father what his 'thing' was when she'd seen him off standing by the side of the road relieving himself. She'd seen babies' penises of course, but had never thought to ask about what that particular appendage was. Only upon seeing her father's had she thought to actually wonder about it. And he had told her simply it was a "penis" that and nothing more. "Men had them, women didn't." Simple enough an explanation for her perhaps. Then. Now, hearing the three distinct words being used together to describe what Kathryn was obviously looking at took on a whole new meaning for her.

"Now, are you going to fuck me or not?" Kathryn asked him once again, using that same word she'd used earlier.

"Fuck?" What did it mean? Maggie wondered silently. Even saying it silently to herself gave her an odd sense, something secretive, something curiously wicked. Whatever "fuck" meant, it had something to do with whatever Phillip and Kathryn were preparing to do.

Maggie watched as Phillip finally lowered himself over Kathryn. Watched as Kathryn spread both of her bare legs to either side of him so that he was positioned directly between them. A moment later they began moving together. A moment after that Kathryn began moaning, pleasurably for some reason. Whatever it was that Phillip was doing to her, it felt good. Even more inexplicably, Maggie felt a trickle of moisture gather between her legs, momentary panic settling in as she quickly checked herself, worried that her curses had taken this particular moment to start, relieved when she found they hadn't. Even so, she became rather 'wet' as she continued to lie there listening to the two of them below her, wondering... wondering what it was they were doing? But even more importantly, why were the two of them enjoying it so much as evidenced by Kathryn's deep groans of obvious pleasure.

The sounds of their coupling, though Maggie still had no real idea what it was she was seeing, let alone listening to, had heightened her own awareness that something interesting was taking place below her. Something that obviously felt good, and brought a significant amount of pleasure to both of them. Kathryn continued to moan, groan, thrashing herself almost violently beneath Phillip. He in turn began bumping against Kathryn faster and faster until she screamed, followed a moment later by his equally deep-throated grunt.

As time was short obviously, Kathryn made Phillip get up from her. When he did, Maggie saw his semi-rigid "penis" as he stood, turning towards the side as she glanced down between the slats in the upper loft above them. Phillip's penis was easily twice the size her father's had been when she had seen his. And she now knew without any doubt as to what he'd been using it for. The thought of a man somehow putting something like that inside of her seemed foreign, yet at the same time, wickedly wonderful as she relived the lusty naughty sounds that the two of them had been making together.

Looking down at Kathryn, she now saw something else too. Several white slimy trails seemed to be coating the course black mat and belly of Kathryn's womanhood.

"It's a good thing you didn't squirt inside me," she told him. "I'm too far from my courses yet to let you do that," she added. "And I don't desire to find myself with a child quite yet either! Though that idiot I'm engaged to would certainly love thinking it was his," she added thoughtfully.

Maggie had to stifle a loud gasp, balling her fist against her mouth as realization dawned on her like a tidal wave. So much made sense to her now, within the blink of an eye. Something she would have never dared to ask her father about certainly, nor would he have in all likelihood even answered her had she asked.

"Except with his belt perhaps," Maggie mused once again looking down through the slats in the flooring.

Phillip helped her to stand. Maggie watched as Kathryn straightened her skirts while Phillip helped her to remove bits of straw that had clung to her, including her hair. "Now... you'd best get a move on and go find Daddy and that other man he hired. They're probably wondering where you are already," she told him. "By the way. Have you seen Maggie today? Mother told me to find her and send her into her if I did. So keep an eye out for her would you? Hell, she's probably out frigging herself someplace, foolish girl."

"Well, if she is off frigging herself someplace, you'd best hope I'm not the one to be finding her, or I might want to be fucking her as well," he'd said teasingly.

This time Kathryn's look was menacing, every bit as much as the tone of voice that she now used. "I ever catch you so much as looking at that girl, I'll tear your fucking eyes out with my own hands!" she warned him seriously.

To Maggie's relief, the two of them left a few moments later. Feeling the moisture, which had continued to flow, continuing to pool between her legs, Maggie reached down wanting to ensure that nothing else was happening. Though she didn't do it often, if hardly ever at all, she placed her finger between her legs, drawing it up to look for any telltale signs. When she did however, she experienced something she had never felt before. An entirely new and different sensation. It felt good, really good. But before she could further explore what it was she'd just discovered, she heard the sound of Mrs. Brown calling out for her. Scrambling down from her place of concealment, she quickly ran around the other side of the barn so that neither Phillip nor Kathryn might expect where it was that she had been hiding. Luckily, neither of them did. Unluckily, Mrs. Brown needed the pigs fed.

It was well after sunset, long after dinner had been eaten with everything cleaned and cleared away, which Maggie had helped with of course. She had made up her bed, unfolding the blankets she'd been given along with a pillow for her head. Her father had settled into the vacant stall next to hers, the very one that she had seen Phillip and Kathryn "fucking" in earlier, she thought.

"Father?" she had asked tentatively, her curiosity getting the better of her reasoning.

"Yes Maggie?" he'd answered her a moment later, hearing him as he laid out his own blankets in preparation for sleep.

"What does the word 'fuck' mean?" she asked innocently.

Maggie was stunned, shocked, surprised to put it mildly when her father suddenly appeared in the opening of her stall, belt in hand with the most fearsome look upon his face she'd ever seen before.

"Don't ever... ever say that word again! Do you hear me?" he demanded in a voice she had never heard her father use before.

Maggie looked at him numbly, frightened now as he moved towards her folding the belt over once as he did.

"Turn over, onto your belly!" he demanded of her. Maggie remembered only being spanked once by her father, and then, only with his hand. He had threatened her with his belt but had never used it. Doing so only as a warning to her to behave and never talk back to him again. Which she hadn't. Seeing the belt this time however, she hoped for a warning, but knew in her heart as he had told her to roll over, that this time it wouldn't be.

"Thwap!" The first sting to her ass came as a shock to her. The thin material of her nightgown and underwear giving little or no protection from the stinging edge of the leather as it came down hard upon her sensitive flesh. Maggie expected another, hearing only the sound of her father's exasperation and the sound of the belt being thrown off to the side of the stall angrily.

"Let that be a reminder to you. Do NOT speak such filth in my presence ever again!" her father screamed at her. But Maggie could also tell by the tone of his voice, that he was confused, frustrated perhaps. Just as angry with himself as he was at her as he turned and walked away back towards his stall. Seconds later he blew out their only lantern without even saying goodnight to his daughter. Maggie curled up inside her blankets, the sting of her father's belt still fresh across the backside of her ass. In the darkness, she heard her father speak, asking in tones almost too low to hear, apologetic in a way without saying so.

"Where was it that you heard that word?" he asked her. "And don't lie to me Maggie, I will know it if you do. What did you see and hear?" he asked again a little more sternly.

Maggie had never lied to him before. She feared his anger in her lying to him every bit as much as in telling him how she had come to know this word. But she found in telling him to be the lesser of two evils. So she did.

It was the first time that Maggie ever remembered her father leaving a job early before. Especially one in which there was actual payment, let alone room, board and meals included. He had waited until sunrise to inform Mr. Brown they were leaving. Mr. Brown had attempted to convince them to stay, even offering a meager increase to his wages as her father had proven himself to be reliable and hard working. To her surprise, her father declined, accepting payment meager as it was for the work he had done, opting instead to leave, saying nothing more than he had a promise to keep, and needed to be on the road, immediately.

She had walked by her father's side for several hours in silence. The single red welt upon her ass a reminder of her father's anger with her. But a curious question mark too, for why had he stopped after only one?

"I'm sorry," he said simply after a time. Maggie remained silent. She wasn't exactly angry with him, merely confused. Obviously there was much she didn't understand, much that she wished to understand better. Especially about herself, about the feeling she had experienced between her legs by the touch of her own finger. Not to mention why "fucking" seemed to be so pleasurable. And if indeed it was, why then was it something her father would consider so wrong?

"You're almost a woman grown," he said a moment later. "I realized that back there in the barn. I've put off doing what I've known all along would eventually need to be done. There's much you need to know," he stated turning to look at her, his face aflame with embarrassment. "But those are things I cannot explain or tell you about," he added quickly. "You need to live someplace where you can be schooled too. Not out wandering the countryside with me. I know such a place, I know a woman who will take you in as though you were her own," he told her with a measure of finality.

"But father! I don't want to live someplace without you!" Maggie began to cry. He had said nothing more to her about it as they walked along in silence; only the gentle comfort of his strong arm around her shoulder told her that he was no longer angry or mad at her. But she also knew that once his mind was made up about something, there was no changing it. With fear and dread burning deeply within her soul, Maggie walked beside him towards the beginning of a new life.

Several days later Maggie and her father had managed to hitchhike half way across Texas. They arrived at a small town still several miles away from San Antonio. It was here that Maggie's father introduced her to a woman he had known. Though how he had gotten to know her so well, or obviously so intimately was a mystery to her. He'd never mentioned the woman to her before.

"May? I'd like to introduce you to my daughter," he'd said. "This is Maggie."

May was an exceptionally attractive woman for as old as she obviously was. Maggie found it odd that she was single, never having been married for as attractive as she was especially at her age. And though she didn't exactly live alone as she ran a boarding house, thus having plenty of guests most of the time, Maggie found the woman to be warm and friendly towards her. Especially upon learning that she was Edward's daughter.

"How long has it been Ed?" May had asked almost affectionately. Perhaps a little too affectionately it seemed in fact to Maggie when they had arrived. She'd also noticed a warning look seemingly pass from her father to May as they stood out on the porch together. May had seemed to pick up on the look, quickly inviting them both in without pressing the question further. "Why don't you let me get the two of you something to eat and drink?" she asked.

"I think Maggie would like that," her father had said with a relieved tone of voice that Maggie immediately picked up on. "And then maybe you and I can go back outside onto the porch and chat for a moment or two," he'd indicated with another knowing look cast in Mays direction.

May had taken the hint; fixed Maggie a sandwich along with some fruit, cheese and a nice cold glass of milk before pouring herself and Maggie's father an iced tea. "May and I have some business to discuss," he'd told her. "You sit in here, enjoy your lunch while we talk." Edward had let her know in no uncertain terms that they weren't to be disturbed.

Later that evening her father let her in on what he'd been talking to May about. Maggie learned that she was to live here with her, helping out with the boarders she took in, attending one of the nearby schools during the day in order to further her neglected education. He told her how he would be gone for long periods of time while he sought employment, doing what he did best, traveling around trying to make ends meet and save a little money up for the two of them. Times had been hard; there had been the depression. And now it seemed, war was coming. It was the talk on everyone's mind these days.

Her father had stayed on for three days before leaving bright and early one morning as he'd indicated he would do. It was the last time Maggie would ever see her father again. She heard weeks later he had been killed in an accident crushed by a bailing machine on a farm he'd been working at shortly after his arrival. Worse, the news didn't even reach her for several weeks, as no one knew for sure where his daughter even was or lived. If May hadn't noticed a small tiny article in an old newspaper about her father's death, she might not have ever known. And so it was, May became her best friend, confidant and mentor.

Maggie had turned seventeen, having lived with May now ever since her fathers death. Together she helped May run the boarding house. Business was booming as they lived fairly close to the train station. As late, things had been pretty hectic. People seemed to be constantly coming and going, which was especially odd for this time of year with winter approaching. It was November 1941 and was proving to be one of the coldest winters on record, especially for San Antonio.

Maggie had been sitting inside with May one evening when she finally worked up the courage to ask her how it was that May knew her father. May smiled, gave Maggie a sorrowed look, setting down her needlework that she'd been working on as she did nearly every night after the sun went down.

"Do you really want to know?" she'd asked.

"Yes. Yes I would. And please... tell me everything, I need to know."

May's smile was reassuring, though sorrowful at the same time. "I met your father a long time ago," she began. "Probably around your age he was, just having entered the army. That was during the BIG war of course, and he was anxious to go over seas and fight for his country. Thankfully the war ended before he was ever shipped over."

"So how did you meet him?" Maggie asked interrupting her, curious more than ever. May laughed, almost blushing as she sat back closing her eyes, remembering.

"Back then, I didn't run a house, I worked in one."

"You mean a boarding house? Like this one?" Maggie asked.

"No, a different kind of house Maggie. You see, I was a prostitute at the time, or a lady of the evening as I preferred to call myself," she added.

Maggie was shocked. Not so much that May had admitted to being one of "those" kinds of women. But shocked that her father had actually, knowingly gone to her. Even if it was before he'd met and married her mother.

"You mean to tell me that father... and you?"

May smiled. "No, he didn't know it at the time. Back then we working girls didn't actually live at our place of employment. I lived at the same place your father was staying at. Another boarding house not much different than the one I'm running now. We used to go out in the evenings for long walks whenever I wasn't working. And as strange as it may seem, I decided to never tell him what it was I actually did for a living. One evening, we ended back at the house. The old lady who ran the place had left for a few days to attend her sister's funeral. It just so happened that your father and I were the only two people staying, and living there at the time. So it was, we spent the night together. I took his virginity. He of course immediately proposed marriage afterwards. And it was then that I felt like I had to tell him the truth about myself. Which I did. Your father left the following morning. I didn't hear from him again for nearly three years. Then one day, he came through town. I was still a working girl, but I had been trying to save up enough money to get out of the business and buy my own place, a boarding house. He had come back for me. But not in the way I had hoped he would, nor even in the way I had expected. He came through long enough to tell me two things. One, that he'd never forgotten me, and because of that, he'd managed to save up enough money to give to me so that I could buy that boarding house, get out of the life I'd been living."

"And two?" Maggie asked.

"And two, that he had gotten married, and his wife was pregnant. He had no desire to do anything with me, nor did he expect for me to ever pay him back for what he had done for me. But one thing he did ask, which I promised him I would do. And that was, if for any reason he needed a favor from me in return, he would consider that as payment in full for what he had given me. A new life."

Maggie sat back digesting everything that May had told her about her father. She realized then and there that there was so much she didn't know about him or about herself for that matter.

"Am I that favor?" Maggie asked her. Once again May gave her a knowing smile.

"But one in which I accept gladly," she told Maggie. "You see, I found out early on that I would never be able to bare children of my own. It was one of the reasons I never married. Not many men wanted a wife who was barren for one thing. And for the other, no man wanted a woman who had once lived the sort of life that I had either."

"What was it like?" Maggie asked cautiously. "What I mean is... what is it like being with a man anyway?" Now it was May's turn to look surprised.

"How old are you?" she asked again.

Maggie blushed. "Seventeen, Eighteen in three months, remember?"

"Yes, I know. I just wanted to know if you knew how old you were. A lot of women your age are already married by now." May's comment wasn't meant to be stinging, but Maggie heard the implication. She really was way too innocent. "So you mean to tell me, you've never ever been with a man?"

"No! Never!" Maggie exclaimed almost indignantly. Just as quickly blushing as she remembered that day not so long ago when she had witnessed Kathryn and Phillip "fucking" in the barn below her.

Long into the night they spoke. Maggie asked, May answered. Maggie's eyes grew wide as she learned about womanhood, femininity. And more importantly, the pleasures that a man and a woman could enjoy and experience with one another. One thing May did that her father could never do, was answer her personal intimate questions. Perhaps it was one reason why after that episode in the barn her father had decided to bring her here. To find out from an expert. Someone who knew, and who wouldn't feel squeamish or shy about answering her questions. All of them. And as Maggie found out, she had a lot of questions to ask.

Maggie soon settled in to her new life. Business was brisk. For the first time in recent memory according to May, it was the first time in a long time that the boarding house was filled. With the threat of war on every radio, every newspaper, enlistments were up. Young men everywhere were either joining the services or thinking about it. As they did, job openings became available. Men from nearly everywhere were coming to town looking for work now that the great depression seemed to finally be over with. As such, Maggie was busy all day long from dawn to dusk. Cleaning rooms, helping with the three guaranteed meals for their guests, Maggie had little if any time for herself any more.

"Maggie?" May had asked her while ironing sheets and bedding one evening just before retiring.

"Yes?"

"We need to go upstairs and make up the bed for our new boarder," she'd told her. "You know, Mr. Peterson. Anyway, I didn't have any fresh linen at the time. Would you mind running these up and making the bed before he starts complaining?" she'd asked.

"Yes May," Maggie said gathering up the freshly laundered, ironed sheets. By the time she had reached his room, he was on his way down to "inquire" about his bedding as he'd told her in the hallway. Maggie had apologized profusely, indicating to him in the hall that she was on her way up when she had stumbled into him. He hadn't scolded her really, in fact, seemed rather polite given the late hour and all. Maggie quickly scurried to his room and began making the bed, hearing him having entered behind her, closing the door as he did.