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From: Mr Slot <dalech33@optusnet.com.au>
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Subject: {ASSM} A Mr. Slot Halloween {Mr Slot} (MF Mf Humour Sheep)
Date: Sun, 15 Oct 2000 08:10:04 -0400
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The following is a work of fiction consisting of adult concepts and 
possibly sex. Do not read if you are not legally permitted. I don't
want the police on my front doorstep.
You are welcome to read but please don't distribute without my 
permission.
Feel free to make any comments to the author.
Send E-Mail to dalech33@hotmail.com

A Mr. Slot Halloween. (MF Mf Humour Sheep)

==================================================================
This story continues on from Katie McN's "A Katie R Halloween" and
contains jokes about Australians and New Zealanders. 

You have been warned.

I wish to thank Katie for allowing me to use some of her characters. I
just wish I had more time to use Claudette in the manor that she is
accustomed too. 
As usual none of this would be possible without the expertise of 
Ruthie, editor extraordinaire.
==================================================================

The Halloween party at the Stately Richardson Manor had been a
smashing success. Tanya, the exchange librarian from Aussieland, had
just disappeared with Warren Underground after smashing Sister Mary
Margaret's all time record for most people serviced in a single party.
Pred and the Predtones had finally passed out on their instruments
while George Jones was nowhere to be seen.

In one corner sat a small wagon containing an inordinate number of
naked young females, all sexually exhausted and with little red welts
on their backs and butts. In fact, there appeared to be a lot of naked
young females, as well as a lot of naked young males. The males were
all asleep, snoring away, while most of the females looked on in a
mixture of disgust and disappointment. The rest of the females were
busy getting down to business with each other. On the stage where Pred
and the Predtones were quietly sleeping off enough drugs and alcohol
to keep the country of Bolivia in business until the next millennium,
sat two fourteen-year-old girls. One was a pretty redhead with a
strange accent, the other a pretty blonde with a Texas one. They were
drinking long necked Hecates and surveying the damage.

"Well that was fun," said Claudette, stretching her lithe, 5'7" body.
"So when do we get down to the serious sex?"

"As soon as I get you tied to my bed," replied Katie R, giving her a
look that would have had most of the male population of the United
States tearing their clothes off.

Just then the large front doors swung open, and a tall stranger
wearing a leather driz-a-bone and matching Akubra hat strode into the
room. Claudette's eyes went straight to his crocodile skin boots, and
she wondered what a pair with four inch heels would look like on her
own slim legs. They then travelled north and stopped at the bulge in
his black Levi jeans. Katie R, on the other hand, was instantly
suspicious. The stranger dressed too much like Warren Underground, not
with the same style as Wazza, but enough for Katie to think they were
from similar places.

"All right, where's Tanya?" asked the stranger in a deep, booming
voice.

As soon as she heard the voice, Katie R thought about Aussieland.
Claudette thought about liquid sex.

"She's not here," responded Katie at last. "But there are plenty of
fourteen-year-old girls around who would be happy to help you forget
about her."

"Nope," responded the Aussie, "Tanya's who I came for, and Tanya's who
I intend to take back to Uppajumpquik."

"Well, like I said, she's not here," said Katie R. "She went back to
Aussieland with Warren Underground. Maybe you know him."

"I know the man," nodded the Aussie. "There's only nineteen million
people in Australia, and we all know each other." He looked around the
room at the aftermath of the party. "Looks like this party is just
about over. I take it the dwarf tossing contest has already been run
and won."

"Umm, yeah," said Katie R, making a mental note for next year's party,
"You should have been here."

"Yup," said the Aussie, visibly disappointed. "I always miss out on
the dwarf tossing. Oh well, I better head back to Aussieland and have
a talk with Wazza." And with that he turned and walked out.

***

The previous day.

David was worried about Tanya, his girlfriend. He was worried when she
had come home with that slip of paper telling how she had been
selected for an exchange librarian program. He had never heard of Del
Rio, Texas, and he was pretty sure such an official document would
have been typed, not written in crayon like this one. At the very
least they would have used one of those fancy ballpoint pens or
something. But he was proud of Tanya and all she had achieved. It
wasn't everyone who could possibly handle the task of being head
Librarian of Wallaby, New South Wales.

Wallaby was a thriving township of nearly two hundred people, not like
Uppajumpquik that only had a population of fifteen, including sheep.
Uppajumpquik was only three hundred miles north of Wallaby, so it was
no problem for Tanya to drive to and from the library every day. But
when the order to go to Del Rio had come through, Tanya had to catch a
bus all the way to the big smoke of Sydney. David had been a bit
worried about that too. There was talk of some big sporting event
occurring at the time, maybe even bigger than the football final last
year when the Wallaby Roos had taken on the Wagga Wagga Bilbies. That
had been a great match, due mostly to the teams managing to stay sober
till well after half time. David had found it hard to believe that any
sporting event could be bigger than that.

Tanya had gone to Del Rio promising she would be back before wombat
droving time, but when the time came to round up those furry little
buggers Tanya was nowhere to be found. David got worried then and
decided to go and collect her. He travelled all the way to Sydney to
catch a plane to the United States. He walked right up to the ticket
table where a plumpish woman with thick glasses was reading a Woman's
Weekly.

"G'day," he said, "I'd like to fly to Del Rio, Texas. I think that's
in the States or something."

"Sure," said the bespectacled woman behind the table. "Do you have a
passport?"

"What's a passport?" asked David.

"It's like a little book that says you're who you say you are,"
responded the woman.

"But I know who I am," said David.

"Oh, well that's okay then," said the woman. "Here you go." She handed
him a ticket and then walked him out to the runway where a Jumbuck
Airways plane was parked. David walked up the stairs and entered the
plane where a nice flight attendant showed him to his seat.
Forty-eight hours later he was standing in front of the customs
counter at Del Rio International Airport. 

"G'day," he said to the nice bespectacled woman behind the counter.

"Hello," she said. "Can I see your passport, please?"

"Oh, I don't need one of those," said David, "I already know who I
am."

The woman looked him up and down, then told him to follow her to a
private room. "I'm afraid there has been a large incidence of goanna
smuggling from Australia lately," she explained, "so I will have to
search you for lizards."

David was always willing to do his bit for international relations so
he didn't complain when she asked him to take all his clothes off. He
thought it was nice of her to set his mind at ease about being naked
by taking all her clothes off as well.

She then pointed at his crotch and said, "That looks like a lizard."

"I can assure you that's no goanna, ma'am," said David smiling. He
wasn't surprised that people from overseas would not know what a
goanna looked like.

"Well we will have to make sure," said the woman, sitting on a table
that was standing against a wall. "I have a lizard detection device
here," she said, spreading her legs. "If you would be so kind as to
insert it."

David thought that was a strange place to keep any sort of test
equipment, but he reckoned it would be best to do as he was told. Half
an hour later the woman announced that although the equipment had
given off a lot of loud warnings he was free to go. David left her
smoking a cigarette and set about finding Tanya.

When he exited the airport building he was surprised to see lots of
people running about. There had to be nearly as many people in this
one place than there was in all of Wallaby. He saw a line of yellow
cars where people would get into the back seat, tell the driver where
they wanted to go, and then the yellow car would drive off. David
decided to try it out. He got in the back seat of the first yellow car
and asked the woman behind the wheel to take him to Tanya.

"And who would she be?" asked the woman.

"She's my girlfriend," replied David. "She came over here on an
exchange librarian program."

"Oh, you mean the cute little blonde Aussie girl," said the woman.
"It's been all over the radio tonight. She's going for Sister Mary
Margaret's all time record."

David was a bit confused. He had never heard of this Sister Mary
Margaret, or any sort of record she might have. "Do you know where she
is right now?" he asked.

"I sure do, sweetheart," replied the woman, "and I'll take you right
there. But first you have to do something for me."

"What's that," asked David.

"Well ever since I heard that sexy Aussie accent of yours I've just
been getting wetter and wetter."

This confused David even more. She didn't appear to be sweating at
all, and her clothes certainly looked dry enough. Then he thought he
understood. "Do you want to search me for lizards?" asked David.

"Hon, I don't care what you call it, just hurry up and get those pants
off," said the woman as she climbed into the back seat with David.

After forty-five minutes of thorough lizard searching the woman drove
David to the Stately Richardson Manor.

***

Now.

After leaving the party David made his way back to the airport. The
woman who had driven him to the Stately Richardson Manor was waiting
for him outside and offered to drive him back if she could look for
his lizard again. David was feeling tired by now, but decided it was
probably in the best interest of international relations to oblige.
Later, at the airport, the bespectacled woman who searched him the
first time pulled him aside and said that goanna smuggling had reached
an all time high, and that not only would she have to search him
again, but two of her friends would have to help. Eventually David was
on a plane heading for Aussieland.

When he arrived back in Sydney, and after he had been searched for
goannas again by five of the female customs staff, he headed for Bondi
to look for Warren Underground. He knew that Wazza often had a few
quiet ones at the Marquis of Queensbury, his local watering hole. The
Marquis was a well-known pub in Bondi where the toughest of the tough
relaxed. Only the best of Sydney's elite criminal element drank there.
It was rumoured that Billy "Left-Eye" Thompson had met his gruesome
demise in the Marquis. He had been found floating off Bondi, and
Coff's Harbour, and several points in Sydney Harbour itself. So it was
with some trepidation that David passed through the large oak doors.
Inside it was dark, with a pall of cigarette smoke drifting about the
heads of the patrons. David decided that the best approach would be
the straightforward one.

"I'm looking for Wazza," he said to the room.

"He ain't here," replied the room.

David's eyes searched the room for the voice that had replied. It was
hard to see anything through the gloom and the smoke. In a far corner
he spotted a familiar shape wearing a custom made leather Akubra. A
small glowing ember brightened as the shape drew on his cigarette.

"Hello, Wazza," said David.

"Hello, Dazza," said Warren Underground. "You'll be here for Tanya
then."

"I reckon I will be," replied David.

"I knew who she was as soon as I saw her at that party," said Wazza.
"I always had a soft spot for that girl. I even considered keeping her
for myself, but business is business."

The three of them had grown up together in Uppajumpquik. David knew
that Warren had always had a thing for Tanya, but she had spurned his
advances, preferring to be with David instead. Warren had left for the
big smoke as soon as he turned fifteen, making a successful business
from the teenage girl slave trade. But he had never forgotten about
Tanya, and now he had her.

"I'll be taking her back home now," said David, advancing on Warren. 

"Hold it right there," said Warren Underground, pulling a small yellow
dog out from under the table. "This Dingo's loaded and I'm not afraid
to use it."

David stopped, unsure if Wazza was bluffing or not. Firing off a Dingo
in an enclosed area like this could be very dangerous indeed. "You're
bluffing," he said.

"Just try me," responded Warren, cocking the dog. He slowly got to his
feet and started to back towards the exit. "Don't try to follow me,
Dazza, you'll only make things worse for Tanya." He slid out the door,
leaving David standing alone in the middle of the pub.

"Shit!" exclaimed David.

***

By the time he got outside Warren Underground had disappeared into the
early evening gloom. David wasn't sure what he should do now. He had
no idea where Warren might be keeping Tanya, but he figured it had to
be somewhere around Bondi Junction. Ever since the Olympics had been
announced, Bondi had turned into a hotbed of vice and pornography.
Common opinion had it that most of the U.S. fleet was heading for
Bondi to watch the beach volleyball, so the locals had redecorated
accordingly. There were at least two fourteen-year-old American girls
on each street corner, more on the corners that were big enough to
have stop signs. Each girl was dressed quite tastefully in four-inch
heels, seamed silk stockings, and g-strings. The more expensive girls
wore push-up bras in an effort to stand out from the crowd. Warren
Underground was responsible for a vast majority of these girls, as
well as a large herd of sheep shipped straight from the best brothels
in New Zealand. It was almost impossible to get from one end of Bondi
to the other without being sexually satisfied. It was into this den of
iniquity that David ventured.

"Hey mister, fancy a bit of rooty tooty?" said a young redhead as she
tottered towards David on a pair of heels that would give an astronaut
nosebleed.

"Hey, leave off, he's mine," said a brunette who was wearing less
clothing than Liz Hurley at an awards ceremony.

The two girls argued over who would go first while David looked around
for someone who was old enough to vote. He spotted a woman two corners
down and made his way to her. When he got there he noticed that she
appeared to be dressed somewhat differently from the other people in
Bondi. She wore black leather thigh-high boots, denim cut-offs that
were pulled so high up at the back they might as well be a thong, a
bright orange tube top that was so tight that David could count the
pores on her nipples, and a standard nun's habit.

"Excuse me," said David.

"Yes?" said the nun. "Can I do something incredibly carnal for you?"

"Umm, not right now."

"Are you sure?" she asked as she undid his fly and slipped her hand
inside his pants. Whatever she found in there must have appealed to
her, judging by the way she giggled like a schoolgirl. Sister Mary
Margaret knelt down before him for a much closer inspection.

"Pretty sure. I was just wondering if you would happen to know where
Tanya is," said David.

"Mmmf?" asked Sister Mary Margaret. She appeared to be having trouble
talking with her mouth full.

"Tanya. She's my girlfriend," explained David. "Warren Underground
purchased her from a woman in Del Rio, Texas."

"Mmmf mmm mmm mmm mmf," said the nun.

"Yes, that's her. Anyway, he brought her here to Bondi Junction, and
now I'm trying to find her."

"Mmmf mmmf mmmf mmm mmmf mmm mmm mmmf mmm mmmf," she replied.

"Really? That's great. Thanks a lot," said David, relieved that he
finally had some idea of where Tanya was. "Is there anything I can do
for you?"

"I thought you would never ask," said Sister Mary Margaret as she
wiped her mouth and removed what little clothing she had on.

***

David looked up at the building in front of him. It was a huge block
of flats, at least sixteen stories high and painted in dazzling white.
Somewhere inside was his one true love. He was grateful to Sister Mary
Margaret for helping him out although he was surprised that all she
wanted him to do was rub some suntan lotion on her body. David thought
it was unusual, seeing as it was actually night time now. He also
thought it a little strange that she wanted him to spend so much time
on her breasts, but she had assured him that the skin there was
delicate and needed the extra attention. His confusion only increased
when she gave him some special lotion she wanted him to use lower
down. David had never heard of a suntan lotion called KY jelly, and
the way she got him to apply it was also unusual. He had no idea how
she could possibly get sunburnt in there.

He thrust such thoughts from his head as he entered the "Dingo's
Digs," the poshest block of flats in Bondi. Inside he was surprised to
see Halloween decorations and a large banner over the front desk that
read, "Katie R's Halloween Bash, Aussie Edition."

"Oi! You can't come in here dressed like that," said a small greasy
man sitting behind the counter.

"Dressed like what?" asked David.

"Like you've just come off the family sheep station," replied the
clerk. "We run a respectable establishment, catering to respectable
foreign tourists. And New Zealanders."

"But I..."

"I don't want to hear it," said the man, cutting David off in mid
stammer. "Don't come back in here until you look like a tourist,
preferably American."

Five minutes later David re-entered the "Dingo's Digs" wearing khaki
shorts, a Hawaiian shirt so loud that it came with its own volume
control, sandals with matching socks, and fourteen different types of
cameras slung around his neck.

"That's much better," said the clerk, looking up from his racing
schedule. "Now what can I do for you?"

"I would like to see Tanya," said David.

"Certainly, Sir. That'll be two thousand dollars." The clerk eyed him
suspiciously. "Aussie dollars, not that fake Kiwi crap."

"I don't have two thousand dollars," admitted David.

"Well then, how much do you have?" asked the clerk.

David opened his wallet and peered inside. "About five hundred," he
said.

"That's just enough for Beryl," said the clerk, making the five
hundred dollars disappear faster than a bottle of steroids in the
Chinese swim team's locker room.

"Actually I was hoping I could..." David found a key thrust into his
hand and an arm pushing him up the stairs.

"You're gonna love Beryl," said the clerk. "She's got a real talent
with boys like you."

"I appreciate that but..."

"In here."

Before David knew what was happening he was standing alone in a
darkened room. Then he heard movement in the darkness. "Beryl?" he
asked.

"Baaaaaa," came the reply.

"Oh cripes!" said David. Before he could say anything else someone hit
him over the back of the head with a large blunt object. "I've been
king-hit by an All-Black front rower," he thought as the floor rushed
up to greet him.

***

David felt a strange sensation on his lap. Hoping it wasn't Beryl he
slowly opened his eyes. He discovered he was naked and tied to an old
brass bed. The sensation he felt wasn't Beryl, but was in fact a
fourteen-year-old girl bouncing up and down faster than a rabbit on a
pogo stick. "Excuse me," he said.

"Uhn," replied the girl.

"Uhn?" asked David.

"Uuhh," responded the girl.

"I'm sorry, I thought you said uhn," said David.

Just then the bedroom door swung open and Warren Underground strode
in. "Hello, Dazza," he said, "I see you've met Cindy Lou."

"Nice to meet you, Cindy," said David. He would have extended a hand
except for the fact it was tied to the bed head.

Cindy responded by climaxing with a monstrous orgasm and then toppling
backwards off the bed. All David could see was a pair of four-inch
heels protruding above the mattress.

"That seems to happen a lot with these girls," said Warren as he took
a seat. "Absolutely no sense of balance when they come down under." He
lit up a camel, watched as the dromedary ran around the room for a
while before jumping out the window and into a nearby pool, and then
returned his attention to David. "How much?" he asked.

"How much for what?" replied David.

"How much do you want to forget about Tanya," explained Warren.

"I can't do that, Wazza," said David. "I love her."

"I can understand that. She really does have incredible tits."

"But it's more than that," said David. "It's the way her hair looks
like when it's backlit by the summer scrub fires, the way her eyes
sparkle when she's crutching the sheep, the way her skin glistens with
sweat when she's shearing the wombats. It's just too hard to explain."

"I think I'm beginning to understand," said Warren. "Tell you what,
I'll make you a deal."

"What sort of deal?" asked David.

"During the Halloween party at the Stately Richardson Manor Tanya took
on 128 people. If you can match that I'll set you both free."

"Okay," agreed David, "when do I begin?"

"You already have," said Warren. "You had sex with 98 people while you
were unconscious."

"Well that explains why my arse hurts," said David. "How long will
this take?"

"Not too long," replied Warren. "Most of these fourteen-year-old girls
have learned to cum pretty quick. I think it's because the average
fourteen-year-old boy will cum within thirty seconds. Most
thirty-year-old men too." He got up and opened the door, revealing a
gaggle of young girls standing in the hallway. "Good luck, David," he
said, and then walked out of the room.

David watched as number 99 tottered into the room and climbed up onto
the bed.

***

Two hours later Warren Underground stood by the front desk and watched
as David and Tanya left the "Dingo's Digs" arm in arm.

"I'm surprised you let her go," said the clerk from beside him. "I
thought you had some pretty deep feelings for her."

"I do," said Warren.

"You must be pretty upset then."

"I am," responded Warren. "But then I think about the millions of
dollars I'm going to make from the video tapes. It isn't often that
you can make a movie of one guy fucking 128 different men, women, and
assorted farm animals."

The End


Stories now available at http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/mr_slot/www
in Text, HTML, PDF, and Palm Pilot Format.

It's always funny till someone gets hurt... 
and then it's absolutely friggin hysterical
--- Running with scissors.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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