Bozeman had stood up. He was only about twenty feet from me. I kept a steady pace. Bozeman turned to walk to his backdoor. Another forty feet to go. I...heard a car speed past. I hoped they hadn't noticed. My pussy was wetting the insides of my thighs. I had never done anything like this. One of the mowers spun around, driving straight at me. The driver, so far, hadn't noticed.My pace hadn't changed. I opened my purse about twenty-five feet from the car and dug for my keys. Still walking I. None of the men stepped out of line, but they reveled in opportunities like this, a chance encounter in a secluded area of the farm, or when the farmer was away on business, sometimes for weeks.His daughters were particularly vulnerable, they were home schooled and had never really been away from the farm to know or learn the ways of the weird, they were naive and could easily be manipulated.On this particular day Jessica was trying to milk one of the cows in one of the smaller and less busy. More

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