The Town of Birchbark Falls

The town of Birchbark Falls was a small dot on the map, far from the eyes of big city folk, a sleepy place of nigh 1,000 souls. It was the kind of town where the birth of Farmer Pembroke’s latest calf was the news of the week, and a town in which the two churches loved and hated one another in equal measure. Birchbark Falls was a conservative place, populated by a god-fearing sort of people that flew the American flag with pride, spoke of the President with reverence, and said the name ‘New York’ as though it were the pinnacle of the civilized, modern world.

In the town of Birchbark Falls, lived Allison and her father. Allison’s Father, Jim, was a helpful sort of man, the kind of man that the neighbors could count on to fix a faulty dryer, lend a tool without a question, and to never ask for anything in return. He was the hard-working sort of man that was quick to give the Widow Bess a ride into Main Street, or to drop a nickel into One-Legged Bill’s bucket on the corner, in exchange for nothing but a tune on his harmonica. Jim would do these things, because that was what neighbors did, by God, and not a soul in the town would ever say that old Jim couldn’t be counted on to do right by his neighbors.

If there was one true worry in his life, for Jim it was his daughter, Allison. Jim had kept this worry in his heart for many a year, for he knew that one day, someone was going to put their cock in his daughter’s ass. That time was fast approaching too, Jim knew with certainty. Allison was eighteen years old, now, and a right beauty that took after his late Sarah (God rest her soul) in every way.

Those ways included Allison’s jiggling, enticing, perfectly formed behind. His Sarah had had such an ass. Sarah though (God rest her soul) was no longer here to rear her daughter properly in the ways of bumfuckery, the ways in which a man had an expectation of. Many a night had Jim sought the comfort and warmth of his late wife’s plump and welcoming backdoor and it was a certainty, Jim knew, that a good, proper rogering of the woman’s asshole had kept him on the straight and narrow for all the years The Lord had blessed them with.

Jim dreaded the day that Allison would, herself, take a husband, only for his daughter to find that she could not meet with the man’s expectations that her butt be a ready receptacle for his penis. Worse yet, he imagined his daughter taking a trip into the big city, as youngsters were wont to do, only to end up getting her wires crossed about the joys of a good butt-loving, because some uncaring city boy assaulted her virginal butthole before it was good and ready for proper use.

So it was, with a sense of duty, that Jim set about taking the task of adjusting Allison’s ass upon himself. And, with the Lord’s help, he’d have her anus ready for proper fucking by the time she was wed to the right man.