August Moone Sagas
Book 6
Journeying
Chapter 27
Within Stories

How to gain enemies and influence your friends
	It was fucked up.  Pure and simple.  No doubt about it.  No way around it, either.  Fucked up--fucked up--fucked up.  The situation was dire, not drastic or impossible--just dire.
	It was a troll, more to the point, a cave troll.  It was big, it was nasty (er, revolting, foul, hellish, demonic, …) and smelled bad.  It was also basically blind.  It had no eyes, where eyes should be there was a large hard grayish layer of skin.  The rest of the troll’s body was much like a beaver--or mole, gopher, something like that.  Course thick and matted.  At its elbows, knees, and chest area, another hairless area that was hard grayish skin.
	Then there was its mouth.
	The mouth was a round opening with jillions of small jagged yellowed teeth all around the opening.  It didn’t seem to be that there was a “jaw” of any type, it was just the opening was OPEN constantly.  A thick layer of grayish skin (lips) extended over the opening to “close” the mouth.  
	A very wicked darting tongue there was, assumably acting much like a snake, seeking out its prey.  And littered all about the cave was the troll’s “prey”, previous prey.  Bones and rotting bodies/carcasses.  It was sickening to revolting.  To Forrest, the creature also appeared to be somewhat stupid, but living underground feasting on animals could have something to do with it.
	Though no “ears” could be seen, Forrest deduced there might be.  Or the creature had fantastic perception (of movement.)  it was a fucked situation.  Dire.  A direly fucked situation.  Tossing bones and such only pissed the underground beast off and caused it to sling everything around in a maddening search for its fresh prey--namely Forrest.
	Forrest hoped Austin was well.  He liked Austin, he was a good lad and a good fuck.  
	When the troll seemed to be heaving and laboring, sleeping in other words, Forrest made his move.  When the underground beast had gone into its rages, Forrest had seen a tunnel uncovered.  Of course, it was clear across the troll’s cave, but…
	Aat first hoped it was the tunnel he had been pulled thru.  But he also figured he couldn’t have that kind of luck.  Patiently he waited, there was a need to unload his bowels, but he pinched back the effort.  Bugs of several various kinds infested his body--somehow he fought back the urge to scratch.
	Covered in the remains of prey, dirt, and troll shit, Forrest scrunched up against the dirt wall and slid his body a couple of feet.  His eyes never leaving the slumbering troll.  
	One foot at a time it seemed.  And there were as many as … twelve feet to make the tunnel.  
	The troll suddenly burped--and then farted.
	The already horribly stench filled cave became instantly unbearable.  Forrest had just gotten himself to the point of accepting the stench when the troll unleashed more.  He had to halt progress to hold his nose and mouth.  The retchings filled him and he was about to hurl…
	From somewhere beyond the cave there was a scream.  A horrendous blood curdling scream.  It awoke the slumbering troll.  He went into a rage--being disturbed from his sleep apparently pissing him off royally.  The troll began thrashing about madly, tossing bodies of surface animals--as well as humankind, all about in a flurry.  There was no time to be stealthy, Forrest made a break for it.
	The pissed off troll was on his ass like flies to fresh piles of poo.
	At the tunnel there was no time to access whether it was safe or not, it had to beat sharing a room with a cave troll.  Forrest dove into the narrow tunnel and reminded him briefly of what it must have been like to pass thru his mother’s womb.
	The troll managed to grab a holt of one of Forrest’s ankles.  Forrest gave the underground creature a quick smack to the face--it’s maw as a matter of fact.  The troll didn’t care for that and DID let go.  He also flew into a more outrageous rage than he was already in.
Passage to horror
	Out of the frying pan and into the fire…
	Pulling himself along the narrow passage, his troll buddy in a furious rant tearing at the entrance behind him--coming after him, Forrest clawed his way faster.  Much faster.  Panic will do that for you.  
	It was inconceivable to him; how did moles and gophers manage?  There was no light, Forrest required light, even dim light to see.  It was a requirement he had, to know where he was going, he cared less of where he had been but needed to know what the hell he was getting himself into.
	As he crawled he came to where the tunnel turned.  It turned and stopped, the end of the line.  That was not good.  The troll was behind him trying to widen the tunnel’s entrance.  
	Roots and rocks made the going tough as it was--and with the tunnel’s end, it was Forrest’s end.  There was naught to do but claw up.  Seemed logical--the surface was up there--somewhere.  Maybe he’d crawl up to his home, his namesake--Forrestville.
	Not likely, but it was a thought.
	As he began to crawl, the tunnel floor beneath him gave way…

	A twelve foot drop there was--luckily the ground he fell on was soft.
	It was soft as it was made up of bodies.  Dead and decaying bodies.  There’s retching and then there’s puking literally your guts up to the point whereas your balls are going to be coughed up.  The dimensions of the hellish room were unknown, Forrest scrambled quickly to find some piece of ground that was solid, or at least less putrid.  He retched, he barfed and vomited and hurled uncontrollably.  This was not good--no, not good at all.
	How many bodies there were was unknown, but a lot.  They were DEEP, too.  The room’s walls were covered in a green brackish slime.  Dozens and dozens of critters swarmed all over the dead bodies, the insects gave off some sort of “light”, and enough of them provided the light Forrest needed.  Unfortunately, he didn’t care for what he was seeing…
	The bodies.  Humanoid.  Not much more than that could be detailed.  But, the manner of their death was curious--thinking back he had seen something similar.  Of the “freshest” dead, the not rotting too much just yet, the bodies looked as if though they had been “drained.”
	Hmmmmm
	Despite holding his nose, the smell of the rotting bodies filled him--his very pores and eyes.  He couldn’t stay--he was better off in the troll’s room!
	Suddenly, from an unseen tunnel came slithering a newly fresh body.  It made a horrible “ker-plop” as it tumbled out of the tunnel and onto the other bodies.  
	The green slime crap that coated the walls was equally gross.  Forrest had no choice and clung to it and sidestepped to the new tunnel.  It was dark, dank, and very slimey.  He heard noises, though, at the far end.  It was a safe bet that there was something going on there--the bodies were being put into the tunnel and sent along to their darkened end.  And as it seemed to be the ONLY accessible tunnel, then there lay the only choice.

	The new tunnel was not as confining as the one from the troll’s room.  Forrest slithered along the slime until the tunnel began to slope upwards some.  The noises increased to the point whereas there were moans and groans.  It was damn difficult to get a grip on the slime encased tunnel, but somehow he managed--until a fresh drained body came slithering along.
	The body pushed Forrest back into the pit of death.
	Twice more that happened before Forrest had no choice but to “push” back the body sliding down.  His hand pressed to the skull of the poor unfortunate and the bones that made up the skull had no strength--his hand pushed in with a grotesqueness causing Forrest once more to hurl, retch, and barf until his balls DID come up to his throat!

	Finally, the tunnel’s end.
	Forrest didn’t care who was in the newest room, he pushed the body out and fell out himself.  There was more retching, vomiting, and a whole host of involuntary gut wrenching actions.  It would last for some time before Forrest could regain his composure.
	He found himself on a cold broken stone floor.
	It was cold.
	It was dark, ‘cept for those pesky insects that gave off light.
	Noises of moans and groans abounded, but not in the small deep underground cave room he was in.  There were large oval-like openings in three directions.  Shadows there were beyond, moving slowly.  He heard a curious “clicking” sound, very rapid.  Then, there was another but with a different tone.
	The shadows neared and Forrest slipped to one of the oval openings without shadows.  Laying on his belly and waited in the darkness.  Dozens of the light giving insects consumed the body he had pushed out.  Two Shadows entered into the room, one dragging a body.
	Creeps!
	The one not pulling a body picked up the body Forrest had pushed out, and promptly stuffed it back into the tunnel to the death room.  The other one pushed his own into the tunnel and then the two Creeps left.
	Forrest lay on the cold stone floor for a long time.  

	The underground tunnels were amazing--no, they were A maze.  The tunnel he had ducked into he stayed in, traveling along its cold stone sides until coming to a cross tunnel.  He heard what he thought was water.  Water was what he desperately needed--to drink and wash of the slime coating his body.
	He went down several tunnels, having only to back up and try again before finally a tunnel led right to an underground river.  Despite being careful, getting a drinking--washing his face--washing his arms, the precariousness of being right on the edge of the river proved fateful.
	Of course, a “clicking” sound in the tunnel behind him prompted him.
	The water was swift.  Swift and cold.  And deep.  Currents were aplenty and tugged him in several directions--mostly under rolling him along the bottom of the river, slamming him against the sides and virtually drowning him.
	Finally, though, he did catch his breath.
	Only to lose it when he realized he had been shot out of a tunnel opening, the river cascading down out of a waterfall into oblivion.
	“SHHHHHH-IT!” he screamed as madly like a cartoon character he tried to “swim” back to the water.  Gravity seemed to exist everywhere, no matter if it was in the Birth World or a New World.  Forrest plummeted dramatically.
	Right before his very life seemed to come to an end--a brilliant greenish light exploded below him.  Again, foolishly, but desperately, he tried clawing his way upwards against the crashing water.  There was a tingling sensation as the underground vortex-portal swallowed him up and deposited him into a new realm, a new world.
	“Shit, piss, fuck, motherfucker!” he said, and then promptly passed the fuck out.
Hail Ratus!
	One-two-three hundred?  No, there were more than that.
	Black, white, brown, and red.  Some had mixed colors.  Some had red eyes.  All were about the same size.  Hundreds of them.  Hundreds.  Thousands!
	They brought him peanuts, bits of fruits, and other items unidentifiable.  It was thought, though, that it was better to accept the offering(s) than not as pissing off the horde was probably not a good idea.
	The peanuts and other food offerings were good, but he was dirty, grimy, and thirsty.  He couldn’t tell if whether he had conveyed his thirst problem aloud--or what, but the horde of rats parted, like a Moses thing.  Austin wasn’t stupid, the rats had cleared him a path.
	A path to what he didn’t know.  Slowly he made his way, the cave ceiling varied so as Austin though barely 5 feet tall had to bow down and even crawl.  At length, though, he came to where there was water shooting out of a stone wall.  Not a lot, but a stream that spilled to form a stream.  The stream then seeped under a stone rock.  It seemed to be the only source of water.
	It was not very good water, not brackish but had a “taste” to it that was not overly welcomed.  But to a rat, what was?  Austin cupped his hands and drank his fill.  He hoped the water wouldn’t rot his guts.  Some of the rats came about him, sniffing and doing that thing that rats do--twitching their noses.
	Some began licking his hands.
	“Y-you want some water?” Austin asked.
	He cupped his hands again and filled them.  The rats drank!
	He cupped his hands time and time again--and the rats drank from the “cup.”  Austin soon was very busy feeding water to the hundreds and hundreds of rats.  At length he made a pool in the floor by using some sharp rocks to make it.  It took a little while to get cleaner water but it was done.  The rats drank and seemed calmer.  Austin yawned and rested against the wall.  The rats swarmed over him, covering him.  They stank, but then so did Austin.  He was also warm…

	In the days that followed (days, hours, weeks?--in the darkness, time was meaningless) young rat king Austin found tunnels and sewer pipes leading to a bounty of foodstuffs.  They were heavily guarded by creatures known as kobolds; tall, lanky grotesque creatures.  Their bodies were misshapen, green and yellow, and very skinny.  
	The foodstuffs seemed to be in large caves and stoned rooms.  Bags and crates and barrels.  Grains, fruits, nuts, and other.  Four to six of the kobold creatures roamed the food storage, when any rats appeared, the kobolds attacked with veracity; using some sort of sonic screams, piercing magical light, and granules the hungry rats consumed that severely dehydrated the vermin horde.
	The kobolds, though, did not like light.  As it happened, an event transpired whereas a large contingency of rats amassed and overwhelmed the small kobold guard, sacrificing themselves as hundreds of them were slain by the kobolds’ magical light sources.  Magical light sources that were in the form of rings, staves, and amulets.  One such amulet was presented to Austin who awaited in the decaying sewers beyond the kobolds’ store room.
	Austin accepted the amulet from his ratty subjects, he didn’t know how to use it--but would learn.  A thousand or so of his subjects had lost their lives, half a dozen kobolds had been killed, three maimed.  They believed, though, that they had turned the sewer rats away.
	They would be wrong.  Dead wrong.

Getting Jollies
	Despite the horror prevailed upon her, her nipples were hard.  Cum gushed out of her cunny, coating her thighs--her own personal juices at that!  As much as she tried to deny the orgasmic feeling, the sensation seethed thru her 44 year old body causing her tremble and be even more confused than she already was.
	Finally, the man withdrew from her sopping wet snatch.  His foul hellish cock smacked her ass and poked her asshole.  It was another violation, cumulative with the dozens of other charges she could levy.  But then again, she knew that she probably wouldn’t be around to serve said charges; kidnapping, rape, sodomy, and assault.  She was a highly respected attorney, she rallied for injustice against all women--and had a vile detest of men.
	The man forcing his flaccid cock into her asshole was the vilest--she wanted to live long enough to have his balls on her desk, his cock nailed to her wall below her plaques of accomplishments, his head on a pole at her parking space.
	Too soft was the man’s dick to re-fuck her already sore well fucked asshole.  So he spanked her.  With his softening cock as well as his hands until his hands got too hot and sore…
	She lay positioned with her head down, ass up, legs (at the knees) spread out as far as possible, secured that way by skin irritating rope.  Her wrists and ankles also well secured.  She had been tortured, repeatedly, by a cattle prod and other instruments of electrifying pain.
	More torture was to come.  Mind torture.  
	After a few minutes had elapsed from the ass beating, Glorina was horrified beyond all horror when a pre-teen naked boy crawled up onto the bed.  He had a hard-on, he smelled a bit (sex smell) and the tip of his cock was already glistening with pre-cum.
	“Suck him.” said the man’s voice from behind her.
	Glorina was in no way going to suck off a young boy.  No way.
	Then the instrument of extreme pain and incredible discomfort slid into her asshole.
	Twelve year old Mitch Bolton clenched the sheets, his bare ass clenching on the pillows as his pre-teen schlong was sucked on by the woman.  Her mouth tightly wrapped about the dick, devoured it wholly with the teeth raking against the sensitive skin.
	“Make him cum, or I’ll turn this electric cock up your ass on!”
	Glorina fought back the extreme pissed-offedness she had welling up in her.  To suck on a young boy’s cock was the ultimate horror.
	Well, so far as she knew.
	More was to cum.  Er, come…
	Glorina did manage to bring young Mitch to orgasm.  He didn’t have a lot of jiz to give her, but a single shot of cum splashed against the back of her throat; she choked and gagged but otherwise swallowed the boy spunk.
	Mitch needed a moment to calm down, before turning about, knees on the pillow…
	“Lick his crack, suck his balls up thru his legs…” said the man’s voice.
	Glorina was sickened to have to comply with such a horrendous command.  The boy’s crack was sweaty and laden with cum.  His hole, of which she had to kiss and lick, too; was clean but funky.  Glorina felt the retchings building in the pit of her stomach--she also felt the cattle prod in her asshole tract twisting and turning…
	The ultimate horror continued with a young girl replacing the boy.  She was no more than ten years old!  Naked and revealing the signs of non-virginity.  Glorina couldn’t believe it. 
	The command to “lick, suck, diddle” was given, Glorina had no choice and licked the young girl’s pussy.  She sucked on the pouting lips and stuffed the hairless poon with her tongue.
	Another girl replaced the first, she was even YOUNGER!
	Then a teenage girl came, her pussy shaven and coated in cum.
	When that was all done, the cattle prod was removed and Glorina allowed to lay on her side--only to have to witness the boy being sucked off on by the girls, two girls ten and eight with the teenage girl about fourteen.  After some minutes of sucking, the boy’s dick was hard and he stuffed it up the girls’ assholes, spanking their hips as he fucked.
	Then, the two younger girls lay on the bed in a 69er, the youngest girl on top.  The boy rubbed the girl’s ass, helping hold back one of the legs of the other girl on bottom.
	Glorina was sickened.  But wait, there’s more!
	After some long enduring minutes of the two young girls 69ing, they were replaced by the teenage girl and a dog.  Glorina closed her eyes tight but was warned to open them--to watch was the teenage girl jacked off the French Mastiff, then wrapped her lips about the “red rocket”; then, to add to the already unmitigated ultimate horror, the teenage girl lay out on the bed and opened her legs.  The youngest girl helped guide the dog’s rocket into the teenager girl’s poon!
	The dog fucked.  
	And fucked.
	And fucked some more.
	He panted, farted, wagged the whole of his rump and pumped vigorously.  The teenage girl thrashed about as being screwed by a dog was not cool, it was uncomfortable, disgusting, and somewhat discomforting.
	Sometime later, when the kids were forward having lunch in the galley, the man laid on the woman;
	“Now, listen up--so far the dog hasn’t humped on the kids, but if you piss me off in any way, I’ll replace the cattle prod with his (Rollo’s) dick, and shove the prod into one of the kids.  Got me?”
	Glorina retched.  The man was vile.  Horrible.  Detestable.  She nodded her head then closed her eyes to weep.
	When Glorina awoke, the youngest girl, a young Chinese girl, lay on the bed with her arms back, hands griped tight to the headboard while the vile-horrible-detestable man raped her.  Virtually all of his cock was in the eight year old’s pussy, her legs were held back by the other kids, the young girl had a great grimace on her face as the man’s powerful schlong worked in and out of her.
	The horrible man finally got his “jollies”, he came.  Great quantities of cum spilled into the girl’s pussy; the man jerked, humped, and strained until he got all of his jollies as possible.  He pulled out of the young girl, her legs were let down and she almost cried.  But she was very relieved the ordeal was over--for now.  Someone farted.
	The vile man rested his horrible cock on the girl’s swollen cunt, cum still emptied from his tool, cum ran like a river out of the girl’s poon.  They both heaved and were coated in a sheen layer of sex sweat.  The detestable man then went down and licked/sucked on the girl’s nipples…
	The teenage girl, when the vile man had moved out of the way, went down and sucked on the young Chinese girl’s pussy, cleaning it up.  The other two kids, the twelve year old boy and ten year old girl, sucked on the horrible man’s cock--giving him further jollies.
	Glorina was close to throwing up.
	In the time to come--she would have more reasons to barf…

Second Round of Jollies
	Again Glorina had succumbed to passing out--the horrible witnessing of the children being sexualized as they were was too much to bare.  She awoke time later by the bed shaking.  The boy was on the bed, on his hands and knees, cum dripping from his cock, his young testicles swaying back and forth at a quickening pace caused by the horrible man behind him, sodomizing him.
	Finally, the detestable man completed his butt fucking, smacked the boy’s cheeks, pulled free and emptied all of his love juice onto the lad’s rump.  The Chinese girl took to sucking clean the vile man’s cock, the teenage girl licked the boy’s cum coated cheeks while from underneath the ten year old girl sucked on the boy’s cock and dangling nuggets.
	Glorina shook her head--and promptly passed the fuck out, again.

	The need to relieve herself came strongly, so the threat that if SHE did anything foolish like try to escape, attack the vile-detestable-horrible man, cause a ruckus of any sort or type--the dog would rip into her.
	And then one of the kids would suffer, too.
	Glorina nodded that she would comply.  She was released from the bindings and helped into the bathroom where she relieved herself with a very healthy pent up bowel movement.  The nude man urinated onto her chest, then had her engulf his cock for a long healthy suck.
	Glorina retched, gagged, and virtually rebuked the foul deed, then the dog came to the open door and growled.  On the bed the young Chinese girl positioned herself--face down, ass up, cheeks spread wide as her legs were spread open--ready to receive--cock or hand.
	Glorina took the hellish man’s cock and sucked it.

	Into the shower was taken, the hellish man bathing her, squeezing her breasts.  Glorina was more pissed than scared.  She saw, though, there was strength in the man--he had muscles.  He was as tall as she herself, but being a MAN, he was already stronger than she.  
	The shower was refreshing, there was a window in the shower and one in the bathroom, both were closed and sealed disallowing viewing out (or in).  The vile-detestable-horrible-hellish man raped her in the shower stall; standing up he pressed her against the wall, lifted one of her legs and guided his manhood into her body.
	Ten million things Glorina wanted to say, to shout and scream--but she held her tongue.  The man slid his cock into her and all she could think of was his balls on one of those desk set collision ball sets.
	And again, though, she shivered from curled toes to tingling hair as the man’s cock throbbed within her womanhood.  Greatly she wanted to deny the “feeling”, the sexual orgasmic feeling seethed within her and caused her to shudder as the man ploughed her cunny and creamed deep within.
	After the shower, and rinsing of her cunny (again), she was positioned on one of the molded shower seats, Mitch came in to help hold one of the woman’s legs.  Glorina turned her head and closed her eyes, not wishing to have her eyes befall upon the young boy’s nakedness.
	Her hellish abductor-rapist then proceeded to shave her pussy.

	“Has there been others?”
	Cheryl and Glorina had locked eyes for a long moment or two, the teen looked away as the woman spooked her.  
	“Yes.” Cheryl answered looking back to the woman.  It was all so bizarre, and frightful.  The highway officer filled Cheryl’s mind,  then most recently up in the mountains with the helicopter…
	“Have you tried escape?” the woman continued.
	The teenager she questioned pursed her lips, she nodded her response and stared at the woman, ‘don’t make waves, don’t piss the man off, don’t get any of us hurt.’ Cheryl noted, too, the woman wearing a “collar.”  the same collar she and the other kids wore, even Rollo wore one!
	The woman sat on the bed, her ankles cuffed together; hands cuffed, too, but behind her and cuffed to the headboard.  She had questions, many questions.  They would have to wait, the hellish man had returned to the RV after a long absence.
	He didn’t return alone…

Jolly of Jollies
	The RV boogied down a highway, Glorina guessed that the RV was special, customized whereas the walls, ceiling, and floor were constructed with extra sound deadening composites.  The door of the bedroom was opened, but a thick drape was in place preventing seeing down the aisle to the front window.  There was naught to do but wait.  
	The teenage girl had indicated that there had indeed been “others.”
	What had happened to them?  Something tragic?  Simply let go?  How old were they?  Boys, girls?  Questions-questions-questions.  No answers, no answers, no answers.
	In the bedroom there had been deposited two more children, two girls.  Another girl about ten and another about eight.  They were clothed, and they looked drugged.  Glorina hung her head and waited.

	There was no clock in the bedroom, but Glorina guesstimated about two hours before the RV pulled off the road.  Despite the sound deadening efforts, Glorina could tell they were on a gravely road.  It still didn’t really help her determine WHERE she was, but every little bit helped.
	Half an hour on the gravely road to a more difficult road, a dirt road seldom used.  The RV had to slow way-way down and even back up a couple of times.  The two new kidnap victims seemed to come around more, be confused, wet themselves, and cry.  The teenage girl made her way forward and told the driver/abductor about the kids’ awareness.  She didn’t return until the RV came to a full stop and the engine shut off.
	In the bedroom, the hellish-vile-bastard of a man dropped his pants and shirt and was nude.  The two new kids gulped and stared at the man’s blatant nudity.  He stood up the oldest girl, looking her over, smiling.  He then knelt before her sliding her green knee length pants.  When the child fussed, she was immediately smacked on the ass--the man gave her a strong-strong hard look.
	With the child calm, the vile man smoothed his hands over the girl’s bum, then up under her Hawaiian shirt lifting it off over her head.  She had a small kiddie trainer and that, too, was removed.  The child then was hoisted up onto the bed, then lain down and her pants removed.  
	Glorina was horrified, even more than what the hellish bastard of a man had done previously, to her and the other kids hours before.  She closed her eyes, shaking her head--it was too hellish to watch.
	When Glorina opened her eyes again, the new child was nude, her wet panties removed and the nude horrible man was licking out the child’s cunny.  Mitch and the Chinese girl held the girl’s arms from flailing as the man eat her out.  The situation was only compounded by the man’s voracious appetite--making slurping sounds as he licked out the ten year old’s cunt.
	After some minutes of horrendous tonguing the child’s cunny, the nude bastard of a man stood and leaned in, pressing his manhood against the girl’s cunny.  Glorina tightened up all over, she had sent men, many men, to prison for just such horrid acts.  She found herself appalled and sickened and wanted to slice the man’s cock and balls off.
	The man, though, merely humped on the gash of the child, she was NOT a virgin.  The man humped between the girl’s legs, then locked her legs at the ankles and had the boy and the other girl hold them back--he himself began poking the child’s anus; first with his cock, then a finger, then his tongue.
	Minutes later and the boy was doing same.  He didn’t seem to be too willing, but complied all too readily Glorina thought.  He licked out the child’s cunny and then her asshole before standing and sliding into the child’s pussy his dick.  There was no blood, the girl was not a virgin--and she merely ten years old!
	The boy made full vaginal entry and pumped his fill while the nude bastard of a man rubbed his hand(s) on the boy’s ass.  The girl squirmed on the bed, cried, and humped her hips back into the boy fucking her…
Shock value	
	It was a safe bet that trusting Glorina would not be good--no matter the fact that she seemed to “get off” getting fucked.  To Glorina, it was still rape and she detested most high the act of rape.  She also was not keen on seeing others, especially children, being raped--sodomized, or force fed tube steak.  The threat of being beaten and fucked by the dog was not so good, either.
	Two new additions there were to make Glorina retch and tighten all the more.  All the blatant illicit nudity, all the unmitigated sexualizing of the children, the oldest (Cheryl) having sex with the dog, Rollo, Kellie and Beth whacking the dog off; the nearly teenage boy having sex with all the girls, and the boy himself being fucked in the ass--sucking cock, and being sucked.  
	It was mind boggling and overloading Glorina’s mind.
	All a part of Kam’s plan.  Of course, he still would not trust her…
	Katy Borton and Leah Pace were the two newest members of Kam’s roving palace of terror.  Katy was ten, Leah--merely seven.  Both were friends, acquired from a pull-out stop along the hi-way.  Both had wondered just out of sight of their parents for goofing off; Kam found them and found they were very susceptible to his Mind trap.  Both were adorable, Katy a short haired blond in heavy curls, a fresh face, blue eyes, and “sprouting.”
	Leah had dark brown hair, dark brown eyes, very slenderly built, and a great ass.  Both girls had an ass that enticed Kam, an ass man.  The acquisition, too, was to further put Glorina into a more stupor of horror than she already was.  Shock effect.
	After having his way with the first girl, Katy, he turned her over and scooted her aside.  A light smack to her ass to clarify that she was to be of no trouble or she would be IN trouble.  The youngster understood.  She stared wide eyed at the nude woman on the bed, gulped for air, and barely noticed the cock sliding into her asshole.
	Her young friend, Leah, was hefted up onto the bed and stripped down, too.  Like Katy, Leah had peed herself.  Fright will do that to ya.  The man was doing the stripping down, an almost thirteen year old boy was doing the anal penetration (to Ksaty.)
	Glorina shook her, retched and could not believe how low and disgusting the nude hellish-vile man could be.  The young girl was young, pure and sweet, and it was beyond comprehension as to what was happening to her, what was being performed to her.  
The nude boy was up the older girl’s rectum without too much of a fuss and he soon set into joyous sodomizing.
	Kam rubbed his manhood all over the sweet younger girl, she was a delight to look upon--a sweet and pure delight.  Unlike her older friend, Leah was a virgin.  Kam pressed his cock to her, pressing the bulbous tip of his schlong to the child’s very virgin cunny, up and down the slit and then poking just passed the moundful lips.  When Leah fussed, her legs were lifted and she was “diaper spanked.”
	Mitch had cum up Katy’s ass, she was crying, too; but not for being fucked up the ass--for fear’s sake and for her young friend.  Glorina made some comment, but the cries of the children drowned her out.  Kam had Cheryl and Kellie hold Leah’s legs far back while he dug his tongue into her cunny, then her asshole.

Flight of terror
	“She’s gonna get us killed.” 
	“What if she makes it?”
	“What if he catches her?”
	“We’re dead.”
	The kids’ voices went on and on, slowly trailing off.  The funk of the bedroom was getting a bit on, the bedding seriously needed changing and the mattress aired out, or a new one installed.  The kids needed a bath.  It was dark, the nude bastard vile horrible detestable man was gone and had been for some time.  Acquiring a new child for his insatiable sexual lust?
	It was dark, damn dark.  There was a single light from the microwave oven, but no other light.  All was quiet so much so that Glorina could hear her own sweat droplets.
	One of the kids was gone.  Escaped.  Cheryl.
	In Glorina’s hand was a key, a handcuff key Cheryl had pressed into her hand--just before leaving.  How the teen had come up with the key was not known, she had whispered, “good luck” and Glorina knew what was happening.
	When the kids discovered their oldest member absent they were fearful, not so much as for Cheryl’s safety as was they their own; the nude man was bound to take the punishment due out on them.  Glorina tried to get at least one of the kids to help her, but they were in the shadow of fear of what their abductor would to do them.
	Glorina fussed with trying to get the handcuff key into the keyhole.
	The door to the RV opened…
	Outside the air was chilled, but being one without clothes had something to do with it.  There was no way of knowing where she was, or how far away anything was.  Naked, no food or weapons, no sense of direction, and with a maniac who would probably just out and out kill her if he caught her.
	If.
	If?
	When.
	When he caught her.  Cheryl was almost assured that the naked bastard WOULD catch her.  She took a step, another, and then another, reaching to where she figured the electronic dog collar should zap the shit out of her.
	Then she stepped further.
	Then further still.
	Then she was running.

	The ground at first was soft poof dirt.  It quickly segued to sand.  Pausing to catch her breath, Cheryl saw what looked like a trail of lights, car lights!  Far off, though, very far and across unknown territory.
	The sand was not thick and there was sharp rocks and sticker plants to contend with.  She worried slightly about those she was leaving behind.  She had no solid information to give to the authorities, the RV she could barely remember in detail.  The man, though, the man filled her mind.  
	But where the RV was, where it was going, she didn’t know.  There was that state trooper, the helicopter incident, the kidnapping of the kids, and the woman--he had to be stopped.
	Suddenly Cheryl heard a barking.
	Rollo!

It IS a small world after all…
	The cold stone beneath him helped soothe his fever.  It did little for his broken body.  Moving was not an option.  Barely-scarcely could he breath.  It was good just to lay still and try to regain himself.  The high pitched whine (of which he took to be his screams from the fall) began to diminish to a dull drone.
	The tips of his fingers tingled.  His teeth seemed to vibrate.  Then everything else fell into line of various stages of pain and discomfort.  His mind still whirled in a whir and would take much more time to settle down.
	The falls.  The fall.  The unending plummet to his impending death.
	Minutes, hours, days?  Time was meaningless.
	He DID hear what sounded like voices.  But he couldn’t ascertain if whether the voices were Voices in his head, or outside sources.  It was best to continue to lay still.
	After a time he began to become more aware.  Moving was still not an option, but his head clearing.  Beneath him was a floor, a stone floor, cobblestone.  It was dirty, filthy, and cold.  There was a light, not bright, not close by, filtered.
	There were definite voices--also filtered, more to the point of being muffled.  He heard what could be described as chains, clanging pots and pans, and scurrying feet.  After a time there was the sound of someone getting smacked, on the ass. 
	Dryness in his mouth and throat caused him to cough and sputter.  An act of which sent him into a new world of pain--his chest and shoulders, back, hips, and head went soaring into a new realm unknown.  
	The pain lasted for sometime before subsiding.  He sighed and began working his fingers, stretching them in and out enduring the pain that went along with it.
	At length the filtered light was extinguished.  There were no more sounds for some time, save only for an annoying drip-drip-drip of water from somewhere nearby.
	Water!
	Forrest longed to quench his thirst.  Moving he found a new pain and feared that his legs were broken--then feared that he may be very well paralyzed.  
	He wasn’t, though, it was just time that he needed to recover.
	The water dripped from a rusty iron pipe attached to a wall.  It was a HUGE pipe and the water somewhat foul.  But it was wet.  There was slickness getting to the water, the pipe seemed to be a drain of some type, or transference of water supply.  A few feet up where the pipe was attached to the wall there was a breakage, water dripped from the break.
	There was a pesky feeling that something wasn’t quite right.  Forrest couldn’t put his finger on it, but something was amiss.  After quenching his thirst, washing his body, he made his way ever so slowly along the wall until coming to a crack.  The crack was passable in that he could squeeze thru.  A couple of feet beyond and he was out.
	In the gloom of pure darkness it was best to hold fast lest his lurking foul him up with something worse than a tumble down a waterfall.  He sat in the crack of the wall and waited. 		
	What awoke him he wasn’t sure, he bumped his head and looked about; light had filled the area beyond the crack.  He saw more stone flooring, another wall far away and then…
	Something that told him he was in a very different world.
	At the far wall he that was something like a wall protecting a castle or something, was a table.  A big table.  A BIG table.  A really, really BIG fucking table.  A small one, er, like one of those small regular card tables, with one chair.
	All of wood with a cloth hanging off the edge.
	Then, more striking (if not horrifying) was a something of a dog dish.
	A BIG dog dish.
	A rather large bone was laying beside it, along with a few scattered smaller bones.  There, too, was a water dish.  Beyond was a kitchen--having a long wooden table, stone & wooden counters and cupboards, a sink, and a fireplace with a large cast iron pot inside.
	All on a seriously LARGE scale.
	Forrest leaned against the wall--he was a small person in a Giant’s world!  He shook his head, sighed, and hoped his bud Austin was faring better.

Overwhelming the odds
	She was pretty, for a five year old.  A little dirty, unkempt, and already naked.  She was alone, too.  Alone and in a dangerous place, position.  Slowly Austin slid down some broken rocks to reach her, the young nude child walked precariously along the broken edge of a small shore; rushing greenish/brackish water ran swiftly along the shore.
	Austin didn’t want to frighten the child with his rushing to her, she was already crying and apparently no one was looking for her.  
	Austin had it figured that he was somewhere deep underground, and most likely in a new world, separated from Forrest.  He guessed to be in someplace under a large structure of some kind.  Kobold creatures were one thing, he hoped not to encounter much more than them.
	Broken rocks and what appeared to be slabs of cement were the landscape, of some underground sewer?  The water was kinda foul, but not too awfully bad.  And, he could see.  He didn’t know how, he didn’t know if there was some sort of light or what, but he could see.  Not very clearly or the exactness of all things about him, but…
	He was almost to the girl, a few feet to get down to the area she was “just walking” along without care to her safety when she looked up and suddenly saw Austin.
	She screamed.
	She screamed and fell in.
	Naturally.
	Austin dove in from the rock precipice he was on, finding the water depth not deep but swift.  Quickly he was swept to the bottom and rolled and very nearly drowned.  Somehow, though, he managed to surface and grab hold of the solid edging.  Looking around he saw the young child, rolling and going under several times, popping up like a wooden cork.
	Austin let go of the shore and went after her.
	Twice he managed to catch her, twice the rushing water forced him to lose his grip.  The current took him down and once more he was surprised to see that he could see!  Underwater!  In brackish/greenish/putrid sewer water!  Not too clearly and just a bit in all directions about him.
	He saw the young girl rolling along the bottom and then pinned to some rocks.  Austin swam with all his might reaching the child, grabbing her under the arms and then climbing virtually up the sides of the curved wall (which was actually a pipe) to reach the shore.
	The swiftness of the water was too powerful and there was nothing more to grab onto.  The shore was broken, slick, and no where to hoist the child to safety.
	Then, the water seemed to subside--both in depth and swiftness.  It allowed Austin time to breath, vomit up the crud he had swallowed, and to press his body against the child’s…

	A small nook Austin saw, just enough for the girl to be sat in, facing out.  The nook was just a few inches up from the original water line--should it come again.  Austin placed the child therein in the nook and checked her over.
	She was kind of out of it, unconscious.  Austin opened her legs and stared at her cunny.  Looking around “just to make sure” they were alone, naughty Auty rubbed his aching schlong against the child’s poon.
	The sensation was terrific.  More than terrific.  Slowly he made slight vaginal entry, the head of his dick into her and he was about to make FULL vaginal entry when…
	A rumbling roar increasing in tempo froze him.
	He shielded the child with his body as a huge wall of extreme brackish water rushed over them.  The force of which was too great and pulled them off of the nook and back into the flow.
	Somehow Austin managed to keep holt of the child, he wrapped his arms and legs about her and struggled to keep her head above the water.  They rolled down the river, being pummeled to the bottom and then back up to the surface until a net caught them.
	There were voices and hands pulling them out of the fray and then Austin passed out.  Naturally!

*

Whirlwind of Passages
	He’s mouth was dry, his head hurt, then everything else.  Moving wasn’t an option, it felt like someone with a BIG butt was sitting on his chest.  He tried opening his eyes, doing so, though, caused him to immediately become dizzy.
	Water came to his parched mouth, he felt liquid in his ears, like they were draining.  Someone was by his side and he knew even with his eyes closed that he was being washed.  That was cool, as long as it wasn’t some hideous fat broad…
	More water that was sweet came to his mouth, Austin gathered that unless whoever was washing him had more than two arms, there was someone else with him, too.
	That was cool.
	He tried opening his eyes again.
	Not a good idea.  He went back to sleep and that was better.

	Off and on, on and off young Austin awoke, found himself in a strange place, naked, and clean.  Always there was someone (human) there at his side, usually a woman.  There, too, were an occasional teenage girl and a man one time.
	When Austin had come around to where he was not sickened by sitting up, he found himself in the company of underground dwellers.  Humans who lived underground.  They seemed curious and a wee bit strange, but thankful for the rescue of one of their kindred--the five year old girl they had all but given up hope on as Austin understood it--she had been given up as a “sacrifice.”
	Sacrifice?  Austin didn’t like the sound of that, but then underground folk were a little odd.  In the days that followed--the underground were proved to be a LOT odd.  The Underground Folk believed Austin to be “the one.”  a messiah.  The Underground Folk lived under a large castle of a brutish ogre who occasionally snatched some of the Folk.  The Folk believed that by sacrificing thru a Lottery, the Ogre would leave them alone.
	It was rough living under the castle.  And the Lottery business was not so good, either.
	The time to boogy on came when Austin learned that HIS name had been put in the Lottery pool.  Anyone who’s name was drawn then had to leave the community.  The little girl Austin had rescued had been re-welcomed into the fold of her family, but her name had been returned, too, to the Lottery pool.  
	Being IN the community was good, food-water-and safety.  
	The safety was a curious thing, an amulet.
	Amulet you say?
	Yep, amulet.
	The amulet was magical, uh-huh--magical.  The amulet had been found while the Underground Folk were searching for food and weapons.  Weapons and food were needed to ward off the kobolds who raided the Folk’s food stores.  It was the kobolds of whom the Folk had to deal with as the kobolds were something of a go-between to the Ogre, the master of the castle.  It was confusing to Austin but he tried.
	The amulet had properties of sometimes swaying the kobolds, satiating them in some way that a sacrifice was not always needed.
	But then why of the Lottery?
	Tradition.  Pure and simple, the Folk had been sacrificing their kin due to tradition.  The problems of the kobold raids had been curtailed by the use of the amulet, but yet the Folk still sent their children and whoever else off outside of the protection of the Folk lair.
	Austin didn’t understand and only knew that he had to get away.
	And he wasn’t going alone…

What came first, the frying pan or the fire?
	The little girl gave her name as Leta.  She was a real cutey, ‘specially when all cleaned up--and naked.  A small group of kobolds had come to the Folk Lair and there was some sort of commotion.  Austin got the creepy feeling that HE was at the center of the commotion.  The time seemed right to flee.
	He took two things with him as he fled, the little girl he had rescued, Leta, and the Amulet of Persuasion.  Neither would be noticed missing for some time, but Austin--the Folk of the Lair would be after him, believing that he had caused the kobolds to come and be intolerable assholes.
	Austin didn’t know the layout of the underground lair, but he picked his way along as best he could thru the dark-dank-gloomy passages, climbing up into some old drainage pipes and then back down into absolute gloom.
	But in the gloom there were friends.  Followers.  Subjects.
	A horde.
	A furry horde.

	The Horde led them to a more sublime area less dank.  It was cold, though, so the furry Horde coated the two and they then were warm.  The Horde, too, led them to where there was fresh water.  A small underground spring where the water was fresh.  How far they were from the Liar of the Underground Folk Austin didn’t know, he was too confused.
	Leta was not very talkative.  She was cute, young, and vulnerable.  When she had visibly pissed herself, Austin easily removed her little kiddie dress.  It was mostly filthy anyways and was of no great loss.  Austin had only a pair of ill-fitting britches on and was better off without them.
	The fresh spring water easily cleaned up the soiled/dirty child, and easily got Austin horny.  Easily he found that he could position Leta whereas he then could lay his hardness on her and hump his glee.
	Little Leta didn’t seem to mind and while he humped, he slowly made entry into her, this time uninterrupted.  As he made steady progress into her cunny, Leta toyed with his amulet--he wore it about his neck as his skin didn’t have “pockets.”  A leather string secured the magical device about his neck and Leta’s tiny fingers “activated” it.
	There was an explosive burst of light and then a “sucking” sound.
	Suddenly, the leather string was no longer needed as the amulet was seemingly glued to his chest.  Austin tried and tried to remove the amulet, he was a little worried and concerned.
	The amulet would not budge.  He gave the little girl a frown, but then again, he needn’t worry about losing the magical item.  And he had yet to finger out how exactly it worked…
	One fuck, two fuck, three fuck, more!
	Never enough.  Leta’s pussy was tight, so was her asshole and mouth.  Austin knew he was a cad, a scumbag, and a whole lot more.  But his horny hard cock was in control and with Leta, she was the only pleasure about.  And with they being alone and all…
	It took some time to easily plough the girl’s pussy; afterwards, Austin began working his way up the girl’s backdoor as well as shooting wads into her mouth.  Leta was easy going and happily obliged her horny companion, she drank his juices and they were happy.
	Then, Austin’s tale gets a little fuzzy.  
	There was something about kobolds and some BIG rats who were not friendly at all.  There was an underground maze to get lost in, crossing over a precarious log over a small gorge.  More BIG rats, more kobolds, and more getting lost.
	Somewhere he lost little Leta.
	Then, he stepped into a portal…

How many ways to fuck up before sunrise…
	With each step he knew he was getting further and further from Forrest.  It pained him, he had struggled hard to keep up and stick by the man who he admired.  He understood that the portals were endless and where they led too unknown.
	In the New World he found the landscape somewhat harsh, mountains--rugged mountains.  There were trees and shrubs, bushes, and thickets so thick not even a rabbit could go.  There were berries, water, and on his third day, a shack.
	A small shack.  Not a cabin, but a shack--it had been crudely been put together with a slanted roof.  It didn’t span more than ten feet wide and eight feet deep, barely six feet in heighth.  No floor, no windows, and the door was a few layers of animal skins attached to layers of thick bark and some tree limbs for support and bracing.
	Inside the shack was a bed made of more animal skins, and then some crates, barrels, boxes, and jars.  Lots and lots jars.  There were some clothes, and a shotgun!
	A lantern and other useful items there were, too.  Austin held his breath and waited, kneeling down nakedly inside the shack he realized he was in deep shit--by the looks of the interior the place was not abandoned.  Finding the fresh turd out in the brush gave an indication of human life indeed.
	Then he found the still.
	It was in full operation, a fire burning under the boiler, there were sacks of supplies, another shotgun, an axe, and a whole lot of reasons for young Austin to get a mild case of the heebie-jeebies.
	His mild case became major when he found the three bodies.
	Three men, one looked like a cop of some kind, the other two simple mountain folk moonshiners.  All three had weapons and all three were dead.  Dead-dead-dead.
	Austin grabbed a shotgun and backed up a bit.
	Then there was a sound, a growl.  Kinda close.
	Austin broke and ran.

*

	A day, a night, another day, young Austin picked his way thru mountainous conditions, falling and stumbling down long gullies and streams.  Occasionally he heard that growl and it kept him going.
	On and on, another day, another night.  It was mostly berries that kept him alive.  He saw game that he could shoot, but he held off, he wasn’t that good a shot and with a shotgun, the rabbit and squirrel would be mostly fur after being shot.  He had no fishing gear, and even if he had--he had no means of constructing a fire.  Well, there was certainly the means--it was the no-how he lacked…
	Evening had set and he guessed he was a week in the new world.  He was tired, lonely, aching all over as his body had been thru a horrendous ordeal of traveling (all naked, too!)  Squatting to have himself a healthy shit, a rather LARGE mountain bear attacked him.
	The fight was brief, one good swipe pretty much put poor Austin’s lights out.  The huge bruin was pissed, huge, and frothing at the mouth.  Somehow Austin managed to come up with the shotgun and as the great furry creature assailed him again, Austin plastered the animal right under the chin.
	The bear, though, took the blast and was only infuriated moreso.
	Austin unloaded another round and then was sent sailing thru the air, smashing into some small saplings.  The bear came after him.  Tossing its great head all about, slinging snot and froth.  Austin was out of ammo, but he had come up with a limb that he had broken off with his body.  As the great mountain creature came charging, Austin braced.
	The bear reeked and was highly ticked off.  Its hot breath very nearly melted Austin’s skin off.	The sheer brutishness of the bruin’s girth as it came full tilt very nearly was capable of smushing Austin into pulp.  He held onto the tree limb and received the bear full on.
	The tree limb went into the creature, Austin could feel the hot blood of the animal spurting and oozing onto him, then the full weight of the bear came onto him.
	The bear was not yet dead, it fell onto him and still tried to rip him apart.  Austin clung to life as much as he could and then collapsed into unconsciousness.

	Again he awoke being washed.  He was dizzy and felt flushed.  His vision was blurred and he couldn’t see exactly who (or what) was sponging him down.  This went on a few times before coming around more and more to the point where he was clear.
	He was still confused, but that just went with the territory.
	“He’s awake!” said a voice.  A woman, young woman.  
	Moving was not too good, he was sore from head to toe.  He was also wrapped up.  The imagery of the bear filled him near constantly, it was the closest he had come to being killed outright.
	Soup.  Refreshing filling chicken noodle soup, the first bowl was mostly flavored soup.  Then came the noodles followed by chunks of chicken--when he could get up and make the bathroom; he found the bedpan under his butt kind of uncomfortable and all kinds of embarrassing.
	Austin was in the home of the Daltons.   There was a Daddy Dalton who ran a woodmill operation; then there was the Momma Dalton who ran the household.  Then a few kids; the oldest one was cute--she was eighteen, reddish brown hair, light blue eyes, and seemed mostly serious but had a delightful smile.  She was studying to be a nurse and it was she and her mother who did the sponging of Austin.
	Next was a lovely sixteen year old gal, brown reddish hair, a sweeter smile, smaller tits, more adventurous.  Her name was Erin.  Her older sister was Mary Ellen.  Their baby sister was Elizabeth and she had just turned twelve.	
	There were no boys.
	The bear had done a number on young Austin, but Austin had managed to “blow its head off” and provide the Dalton clan good meat.  Austin remained confused for a couple of more days, the family Dalton had taken him in, cared for him, bathed him, and it was usually the mother, Olivia Dalton, who helped him to the hall bathroom.
	At length he overheard the girls curious about the medallion (amulet) “attached” to his chest.  Austin was kinda curious about it, too.  It was firmly attached and seemed more like a part of him than anything else.
	His strength would take a while to recover.  It was strict bed rest for him, which he didn’t mind--’cept the embarrassment of having to go to the bathroom.  Then, as his mind cleared…
	One afternoon, the middle girl, Erin, came to Austin to see how he was doing.  Austin got the impression that there was no one in the house.  It was a 2-story home, 1930s style, set in the mountains of some southern state.  Austin feigned being asleep, he often did and learned more that way.  
	Then he learned something else.
	Slowly it came to him as Erin crept in silently into the room.  She paused at the foot of the bed, watching him.  His head was bandaged and partly concealed his eyes, it allowed him to be able to peek and see what and who was going on.
	Occasionally, each of the girls, AND their mother, had toyed with his pecker.  They did!  Erin, as he recalled, had been first.  Then Mary Ellen and then Elizabeth.  Olivia Dalton had toyed with him while helping him to stand at the toilet to pee.  At first he thought it was for that typical man thing, the “shake” after a good pee.  He was on drugs at the time, prescribed drugs from a traveling mountain doctor and nurse.
	Austin settled on the times in the bathroom, alone with Ms. Dalton, her arm about his waist to support him, her hand tugging on his shriveled up penis, coaxing it to lengthen some and then to pee.  She had no boys, only girls, but seemed schooled…
	Austin recalled a couple of times of having ripped a couple of narly butt blasts, too.  He couldn’t recall having to “sit” on the pot to move his bowels, though.  If so, did she “wipe” him, too?  It was one thing to clean up a baby, toddler, but Austin was thirteen…
	With Erin, the girl had checked his bandages, moped his brown, rolled him to one side or the other so as to lesson the effects of a bed sore, and checked the bedpan.  He wore no underclothes, just a large man’s dressing gown/pajama.  When Erin checked his pan, she lightly had brushed her hand up against his testicles.
	It was a beginning.	
	With each proceeding visit Erin became more bolder and bolder.  Te simple “brushing” her hand against his furry nads increased to cupping the nuggets.  That led to lightly-lightly stroking the schlong.
	With Mary Ellen, in between Erin’s visits, Austin got a hard-on.  He struggled to maintain “sleep”, he didn’t know if whether or not the teen would freak out or what if she knew he was awake.  Fondling and light stroking of his cock and balls was all she did.
	Elizabeth did the same as her sisters.  He wondered if the girls shared, were they naughty girls--did they munch each other, suck titty, spank, pee on each other?  Where they naughty with their mother, father, friends, cousins, teachers….???
	As Austin thought back to those special visits, he got hard.  As Erin stood at the foot of his bed, her lovely brown eyes focused on his bulging boner.  Austin struggled to maintain his faked sleep; slowly he moved his hand up to his chest, his fingers touching the medallion/amulet.
	“A Persuader” it had been called by the Underfolk.  It “swayed” the kobolds to go elsewhere and such.  Austin wondered.  It was then kind of like what Forrest had, a mental ability.
	‘Is there anyone else in the house?’ he thought up and hopefully conveyed equally thoughtfully to Erin.
	She shook her head.
	She was SOOOOOOOOO pretty, kind of a plain girl, but had charm just the same.  Austin licked his lips,
	‘Pull up your dress.’ he thought.
	Surprisingly, Erin did.
	‘Whoa.’ Austin thought to himself.  ‘Cool!’
	Erin’s dress she pulled up revealing simple basic white panties.
	Austin breathed hard, ‘Slid your panties down.’
	No hesitation, the girl hooked her panties and pushed them to her ankles, then stood back up.  Austin’s fingers went around and around the amulet, lightly did her hear a curious whining sound, kind of like the wine/water in a goblet glass with someone running their fingers around the rim.  It wasn’t irritating so he went on.
	‘Take your dress off, bra, too.’ he went for broke, why not?
	Slowly Erin complied.  Slowly Austin pulled his nightgown up, his eyes focusing on the teen’s poon.  It was trim and a lovely fur pie to gaze upon.  He couldn’t tell rightly if she were a virgin or not, not that it mattered.
	Curiously, though, he did wonder--how would she be after?  Would she remember his secretly commanding her actions?  She wasn’t freaking out, he stroked his pud, waggled it, and eventually called her to climb onto him.
	Erin settled onto his hardness and Austin caressed her ass.  He smiled, he could get to like it--a lot.

	His cock slid into the girl’s poon effortlessly.  It was still snug, but not virginal.  Her nipples stuck out and Austin tweaked them, pulled the girl down onto him whereas he could suckle the nipples while his cock worked her into a “fucking” frenzy.
	The teen’s ass was incredible--soft and supple.  Her tits weren’t too bad, either!  His cock was overjoyed slamming in and out of the girl’s poon, he thought of the other girls of the house, even the mother!  Casually, a fleeting moment there was--wondering and worrying about Forrest…