Question her

"You better come with me young lady," you say sternly, prying Sally off you and taking her arm firmly. She looks at you wide eyed, biting her lip as you lead her away from the door. She turns her head back, looking towards the closed bedroom door as you pull down the stairs and out of the cottage.

"You've got to...to do something.." she whimpers as you close the cottage door. "He's **** her."

"No he's not," you answer firmly. "You better tell me what really happened if you don't want to get into serious trouble." You lead her back towards you cabin, giving her a stern, disciplinary glare, all the while glancing around to see if anyone is witnessing this.

Sally starts to sob harder as you walk, and when you open your cottage door and pull her inside she breaks down almost completely. She clutches at you, burying her face against your chest, her slender body shaking with grief. She's gripping your thigh with hers, grinding herself against you again as she weeps. You smile to yourself as you pat her head gently.

"Sally," you whisper quietly in her hair, "Sally, what happened in there? What really happened?"

Between sobs she mutters her response into your armpit. "He caught us. He was so mad." This time when you stroke her hair you use it to pull her face far enough from your chest to see her eyes.

"What did he do, Sally?" An experimental twist of your leg only results in her bare thighs rubbing even more against the muscles of your upper leg. She might not be aware of the effect this contact is having on both of you, but you certainly are.

"He made us...he made us take our shirts off and clean the mess." That explains the red paint on Sally's shirt. You pull Sally off you, and cup her freckled tear-stained cheek with your hand. When your thumb falls on her trembling lips she opens her mouth at your touch and moans softly. After a moment of hesitation she tries to continue.

"Then Grace-" she pauses as your thumb traces over her lower lip "- Grace offered to please him if he let me go." There is something erotically compelling about the softness of her lip, and your mind races through the possibilities of this innocent young redhead.

"He made her suck him." Suddenly Sally's lips close around the tip of your thumb, sucking on it like Grace must have sucked on Carter's cock. You smile at her as she looks up at your face, then reluctantly pulls her mouth off your thumb. "He fucked her. He fucked her so hard while I watched." The next sentence came as rush of words "And all I could think about was how much I wished he was fucking me." Sally clutches at you, humping against your thigh wildly as she confesses her reaction to what she saw.