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When Lucinda returned from the funeral she suddenly realised that she was free. Free at last from the tyranny of that old bitch. She had looked after her and tended to her every whim for ten long years. When she had promised her dying father that she would look after her, she never realised the implications. Her mother was always a difficult woman. Difficult, proud and haughty. And if Lucinda had lapsed, in what her mother considered to be her duty, she would have disinherited her without a thought. The ranch was huge, they were wealthy ,even during these Depression years. She should have walked away, but she could not face the thought of losing everything. So she stayed and paid a huge price. Out in this wilderness she had little contact with other human beings. That had made it worse. The workers on the ranch were the only people she came into contact with except for her rare visits to town, and that was over a hundred miles away. Her lack of contact with the opposite sex was the hardest of all. The demands of her mother ruled that out. The selfish old bitch was always afraid that she would meet somebody and leave. So she went out of her way to make sure that Lucinda never had the opportunity, with her constant demands on her. Intense, overpowering sexual frustration was the result for Lucinda. Frustration that had to be relieved somehow. She was thirty five years of age now. Every human being needs some form of sexual outlet, some form of sexual pleasure and satisfaction. Lucinda gor her pleasure from watching horses being castrated. She had been in the loft of the barn that day, the hands had not realised that she was up there when they brought the stallion in. She had not taken much notice at first, she was used to the hands coming and going, and continued on with what she was doing, looking for some old documents which had been stored up there. But as the commotion got louder she knelt down and peered through a crack in the floorboards to see what was going on. That moment was to change everything. The first thing she saw was the huge scrotum of the stallion, who was tied, on his back, with heavy ropes. She heard the animal start to scream. Then she saw the knife, watched fascinated, as it cut into the heavy sac. The screaming seemed to change pitch, louder now as the knife continued to cut and open him. She saw the fingers probe the cut, and pull out a pink ball of flesh. The knife flashed again and the bloody testicle was on the floor. The knife cut again and another piece of flesh hit the floor. The men undid the ropes and the stallion struggled to his feet. He was covered in sweat and trembling, barely able to stand. He stood with his back legs apart, she could see the blood on the inside of his legs. The men led him out very slowly. She could hear them laughing about him not being much to the mares now. She had recognised the two men, they had worked for her father for years. The boy who was with them was only about twelve or thirteen, her mother had hired him only a few months ago to do odd jobs around the ranch. She never really did understand what happened to her that day. When the men left she had masturbated . She had known about castration, had known what was done to males on the ranch. But seeing it done had driven her crazy with a lust she could not even understand. Images of scrotums, of knifes and blood , flooded her mind as her fingers worked frantically between her legs. Images also of the boy. She had never realised how pretty he was. This little boy had been there when the stallion was being castrated. He was there, naked to the waist, wearing those ragged and torn jeans. And she rembered the bulge in his jeans now, the bulge which seemed to get bigger as the stallion was being cut. Her fingers worked harder now. Maybe he needed to be cut as well, needed to have his young nuts cut out, needed to have his scrotum ---- ---- She exploded then.
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