August Moone Sagas
Book 6
Journeying
Chapter 7
Things that make you go, “What the…?”

A wolf in wolf’s clothing
	The woods were dark, deep, and near foreboding.  A small path wandered almost aimlessly in and about; birds chirped, squirrels squirreled about the trees, chipmunks flittered about--all giving the ambience of the woodsy setting a congenial sublime appeal.
	Presently a young girl on a bike came along.  She seemed cherry and happy, singing a song.  The child, of about ten or so, could not carry a tune in a bucket!  But she had amazing beauty, curly locks of golden hair, brilliant blue eyes, and a very old fashioned dress.  By its style and the child’s general appearance--she was of the Victorian age.
	But since no one else had been encountered, it was not known if the “Victorian” age was where the gang of Jake and Co. had come into.  And whether or not to interact with the child was not known, either--although Jake and John very muchly wanted to!
	Suddenly, as the child on the bike made a short sweeping turn on the small woodsy path, a great wolf jumped out from some bushes lining the pathway.
	“AH HA!” he bellowed.
	The girl shrieked and fell from her bike, legs up in the air and all.
	The wolf chortled loudly and braced against the nearest tree.
	“Whoa-ho, me lassie, har-har!” he chortled on and on, having himself a good laugh out of scaring the wee child.
	“Asshole!” decreed the girl picking herself up and smoothing down her crumbled dress.
	“AH, simmer down, lassie--” continued chortling the wolf.
	“Go hurt yourself, Big Bad!” cried out the girl angrily.  She picked up her bike and walked/limped away shouting back, “Asshole!”
	Big Bad humped, grumped, farted, then pissed on the tree.
	Big Bad was a wolf.  Six feet tall as he stood upright, but his hind legs were kind of cockeyed.  He seemed well fit, wore a pair of overalls with one strap undone.  A checkered red shirt he wore, too.  No shoes.  No jewelry, but a pocket watch w/chain.  He looked to the watch and declared aloud to no one (that he knew of) “Holy smokes, I gotta get to Red’s!” and took off like a flash.
	He was straggly looking, long swishy tail, very brown mussed up fur unkempt.  A long maw with many a-sharp tooth that was jagged and not too clean.  He darted quickly along the patch, almost lopping until crossing a small creek and turning to a new path to the left.
	A short distance from the turn and he came upon a small cottage.
	A picket fence surrounded the cottage, smoke drifted out of the one chimney.  It was clean and kept up, a nice-nice cottage with the smells of baking apple pies filling the air.
	As Big Bad opened the gate, the door of the cottage opened and a plumb old “grandma” type lady appeared.
	“Where the hell have you’ve been!?” asked the old woman.
	“Sorry, Granny, I was-uh, delayed, yeah, that’s it, delayed!”
	“What was her name?” bitched the old woman.
	“Humph!” returned Big Bad.  ‘Smart assed old crow!’ Big Bad was heard to say under his breath.  He made his way along the brick walkway to the cottage, the old woman grabbed him by the ear and then booted him in the butt as she led him in.  “Keepin’ an old woman like me a-waitin’,” yapped the granny, “I oughta tan yer furry hide!” she was pissed.
	“Wat’s fet supper, Granny?” asked Big Bad paying the old woman little attention--despite the fact she had a good holt of his ear.
	“Same as always, your fur bitten varmit!”
	Then, when Granny let go his ear Big Bad wrapped her in his arms and planted a big ole smooch on her.
	“I’s been a-waitin’ all dern day to do that!” he cackled.
	The old woman firstly fought back, kicking and hitting--and then, then--THEN she wrapped her pudgy legs about his waist hollering “Take me, Big Bad, take me NOW!”
	And ole Big Bad was about to, he unhitched his other overall strap and it fell to his bony scrawny knees, he wore dingy red under britches, just the bottoms.  But his “big bad” was already out and stiff and dripping.  With one hand he grabbed holt of his “wolfie” and glided it up inside Granny’s dress.
	Granny was all a jitter, giggling and keeping her legs about Big Bad’s waist.  He was just about to take her when--
	The front door popped open and there stood a little girl.
	A little girl in red.  A red hooded cape, red knee socks, red lipstick, flaming red hair, and fire (red) in her eyes.
	“What the hell!?” she bellowed.
	“Oh, Granddaughter!” exclaimed Granny somewhat flustered.  She unwrapped herself from Big Bad and fanned herself.
	Big Bad scowled, farted, and tucked his “wolfie” back inside his red underwear.
	“Hello, Red.” he almost snarled.
	“Cant leave you two alone for a second!” chirped “Red.”
	“Ah, we’re adults, Red,” spouted back Big Bad, “we do as we dern well please!”
	“Humph!” snorted back Red.  The uppity girl of about ten or so stomped into the cottage tossing a basket of goodies onto the loveseat.
	“Wot you bring us, Red?” Big Bad asked making his way to the basket to see.
	“Applebutter, cornbread--”
	“Bring any of that pudding yer mom makes so well?”
	“She didn’t make it today.” 
	“Damn.”
	“Big Bad,” said Granny, “be a dear and bring the basket.” Granny said as she made her way into the kitchen.  Big Bad pulled up his overalls and gave a subtle glare to the red caped girl.  The red caped girl, in turn, gave him the “bird.”
	“Come to supper, Granddaughter.” called out Granny.  The red caped girl skipped into the small kitchen and took a seat beside Big Bad.  Both gave one another ugly stares, tongues, and Big Bad grabbed his crotch and waggled it.
	Little Red humped, rolled her eyes, “I know even ole “Grumpy Dwarf’ gots a bigger one than YOU have!” declared the child.
	Big Bad reared back in anger.
	“He does?” queried Granny.
	“Now, now, Granny, taint nobody in this here valley gots a bigger one than me!” stated firmly Big Bad.
	“Uh huh, Cindy’s Woodsman gots himself a BIG OLE cock,” said smartly Granddaughter, “Troll and Weasel do, too!  I’ve seen the Dwarves, they all gots big schlongs!  Bigger than yours!” piped the girl sticking her tongue out to the red cape child.
	“Nut-uh!” shot back Big Bad, he stood and was about to whip out his cock to prove it when Granny slammed her rolling pin down onto the table.
	“That’s enough you two, stop that bickering!”
	Granddaughter folded her arms and sulked.  Big Bad slowly sat back down in his chair and frowned (if a wolf can frown.)
	“Now then,” said the exasperated Granny, “we’re gonna have ourselves a nice little bit o’ supper, some dessert, and then--then we’ll see who’s got a big cock!”

Meanwhile…
	Meanwhile, the little girl on her bike rode and rode, still cussing her encounter with Big Bad, Goldie came upon a field being plowed by a pig.  Hmmm   The pig was decked out in proper attire for a farmer, a small mini horsey pulled the plow, the field was not too large, but large enough for a small miniature horse.
	Goldie stopped her bike and got off to pick some flowers growing by the wayside.  The farmer saw Goldie and waved.
	“Hi Slut!” he shouted with a friendly wave and chortle.
	“Hi Fat Ass!” she chimed back just as quickly.
	“I’m not fat, I’m pleasantly plumb!”
	Goldie gave a “face” in response, “See ya tomorrow, Fat Ass!”
	“Bitch!” called back the farmer.  He kicked a dirt clod then smacked the reigns to his horse.
	Goldie disappeared into the forest.  “Hmmm,” drawled the farming pig, “wonder if’in I shoulda tolt her about the bridge being out?” he smiled and continued his work.

	Goldie came to a crossroads, some heavy dense bushes behind the sign post indicated something was going on.  Goldie held firm onto her bicycle ready to bolt at any notice of fright.
	Suddenly, a tin-like creature poked his head up from the top of the bushes.  “Oh, it’s you,” he said in a mono tone of voice, “hiyas, Goldie.” then, “Look, dear, it’s our friend, Goldie.”
	Another head poked thru the bushes, a human girl, early teens.
	“Oh, hiya Goldie, what’s going on?”
	“Do I look like I know?” she piped back smartly.  She scowled as she knew what was going on behind the bushes.  On her bicycle she fidgeted, fiddling with her flowers she had picked trying to make a wreath to put on her head like a tiara.
	The tinman moved more and more, pumping his hips.  The girl moaned and groaned, the pivotal time was close at hand.
	“You gonna watch or paint a picture?” bitched the moaning-groaning girl.
	Goldie gave the teen girl a dirty look.
	“Oh, be nice!” quipped the tinman.  His “tin” needed a little sprucing up, earnest cleaning, the funnel he wore as a cap was askew and blue-white smoke was puffing out of it.  His tin cheeks puffed, too.
	Curious, though, Goldie pushed her bicycle pointing it into the direction of Grim’s Woods & Troll Valley.  Behind her was Wiz Lake and Stoney Falls.  Trying not to really “look-look”, Goldie DID see Dorothy’s underwear at her ankles.  Her red sparkly shoes she was so proud of and Goldie wished SHE had danced a jig as the tin woodsman pumped tenaciously from behind her.
	Too much brush there was to actually see anything good, not that Goldie wanted to.  She chewed her lip, sighed and listened as the tin man pumped and pumped, clanked and clunked.  It was too much for Goldie and she quickly peddled away.
	The tin man gripped Dorothy’s naked hips and pumped his all.  Her checkered blue dress and undergarments were tossed up over her hips, her panties down at her ankles.  Tin man’s tin dick embedded nicely into the teen girl’s pussy, he pulled free and emptied his “oil” onto her flesh, poked her asshole and plowed there for several seconds before totally expending himself.
	“Hey, she didn’t go off to Grim’s Woods, did she?” asked the tin man stepping back and sitting on the handle of his axe.
	“I don’t know,” Dorothy said pulling up her basic white panties.
	“Poor girl, don’t she know the bridge is out?”

Over the river and thru the hill
	A river there was in the middle of the woods.  The woods were all kinds of spooky-like, the river kind of a shade of green.  The woods were quite with nary a sound to be heard.  The river flowed with burbles and gurgles, belches, and sucking sounds.  There was a bridge spanning the 200 yards across the river, most of it was in the river, though…
	“Oh poo!” said Goldie as she peddled her bike to a stop.  The bridge was out in the “middle”.  The other side of the bridge seemed to empty into even spookier woods--if that was possible.
	The girl pushed her bike up to the beginning of the bridge and continued to fret about her predicament.  
	“Well-well-well,” said a sudden voice, “what do we have here!?”
	Goldie reared back as out from under the bridge lumbered a long lanky green skanky troll.
	“What do YOU want?” bitched Goldie.
	“Cash, grass, or ass.” stated the troll, “No body crosses for free!”
	Goldie gave him a long hard look, “I don’t have any money, OR grass!” and even if she did she wouldn’t part with it, especially the “grass!”
	“Hmmmm,” murmured the troll, “then that narrows it down, hey?”
	“Not bloody likely!” returned the golden haired girl.
	“Well, smarty lassie, if’in you want to go thisaway yous gotta pay!”
	“Kiss my ass!” shot out the lovely young girl.
	“Well-well-well,” giggled and then snorted the troll, “so you want to bargain, eh?”
	Goldie gave him the bird and backed her bicycle up knowing that the troll wouldn’t follow too far from his bridge.
	“You little wench!” rapped the troll, “Bring yer sweet ass over ‘ere!”
	Goldie snickered then sassed the troll with, “Not by the hair of my little dainty quim!”
	The troll licked his lips and gave the young tease such a scowl.
	The troll was a hunched back green spotted troll, long gangly body, bald head, sharp pointy ears (and teeth!) with a crooked nose.  Long bony fingers--matching his long bony body.  A sunken stomach area, knobby knees, breath that would knock the buzzard off the shit wagon…
	And a tiny-tiny dick.
	The green spotted creature had sex parts that were laughable, incredibly small and not in proportion to his massive size.  He took a couple of steps closer to the golden haired girl who teased him.  The girl smiled, stuck her tongue out and backed up some more.  The troll hissed at her long and deep, then stepped a little more, flailing his arms wildly, hissing and carrying on so.
	Goldie backed up--and tripped over a rock on the path and went down on her butt, legs in the air and all.  The troll raced towards her, Goldie scooted quickly in a near panic backwards, her foot caught in the spokes of her bike’s front wheel.
	“Keep away!” she almost screamed in panic.
	The troll laughed near hysterically and trotted closer.  But then, bright sunlight cascaded upon him and the troll screamed in horror and did a backflip hurtling himself back to the dark abyss under the bridge.
	“Come back tonight, wench!”
	“Not bloody likely!” bellowed back Goldie.  She did sigh relief, looked up to the sunlight and nodded.  Sighing again she picked herself up and rode her bike to a new path.

Not so gentle Ben
	Bearvilla  Bearington  Bear Lake  Bear Bones  Bear-a-tones 
	The woods seemed a little cheerier than the previous woods, Bear Woods, they were.  In the air there were scents familiar and not so.   Presently, Goldie came to a cottage.  A nice cottage with picket fence, well, a small child’s wagon, a veggie garden to one side.
	Smoke puffed out of one of the two chimneys and it all seemed very cozy.  Wondrous scents filled the air, Goldie rubbed her tummy and then stashed her bicycle in some bushes.  She then stole her way along the fence, easily climbing over and then sneaking up to the cottage.  She peered in.
	Then, along one side of the cottage where the chimney that served the kitchen was, then along the backside of the comfy home; then back around to the front.  She politely knocked on the door, then operated the latch and let herself in!
	Inside was cheery, pictures on the wall, sparse furnishings, and wondrous scents overall.  Goldie made for the open kitchen, rubbing her tummy and making “yummy” sounds.  On the table were three bowls.  Goldie “sampled” the first one--steam was rising from it.  She made a face and poured some syrup over the steaming “whatever”, then gobbled the whole thing.
	The second bowl didn’t have any steam but Goldie made a face about it just the same.  She dropped some strawberries onto the contents, poured some milk, added some honey, then scarfed down the delicious brew.
	The third bowl was smaller than the first two.  Goldie ran her fingers thru the goo, it appeared to be a breakfast dish, oatmeal or something of the like.  More syrup, honey, strawberries, butter, and cinnamon.
	On a sill above the sink were two pies smoldering with steam as they had apparently just been made and pulled from the hot oven (which was the kitchen chimney-fireplace.)  Goldie dug her fingers into one, 
	“Yuck!  Boysenberry!”  Goldie did not care for boysenberry.
	The second pie was apple.  She ate the whole thing.
	In the quaint living room there were small toys, pull toys that squeaked-squawked-waddled-praddled.  A small fire there was in the living room fireplace, Goldie warmed herself then plopped onto one of the three chairs assembled there.
	The first chair was too big, and lumpy.  Goldie bounced on it until loud “CRACK” was heard, a support board in the chair’s construction had broken.  Goldie moved to the next chair.
	The second chair was adorned with lace dollies and was softer.  Goldie rubbed her nose as the chair seemed to be inundated with heavy perfume, too.  She bounced herself in the chair until a spring popped thru the cushion.
	The third chair was small and kind of snug--not much room for bouncing.  Goldie wiggled and forced the sides of the arm chair out, then stretched herself forcing the back of the chair to lay out more.  She yawned, farted, and wriggled.
	The sides of the chair popped and crack and wobbled as they had been broken, the fabric holding them rent and the back of the chair was unstable.
	Goldie crossed her arms and humphed.  “What a dump!”
	Undaunted, the uninvited girl stomped her way up the simple wooden stairs to the second floor.  Two bedrooms there were, along with a closet and a bathroom.  Goldie made use of the bathroom, stinking it up and when she pulled the brass chain to flush the toilet, it clogged.
	Goldie shrugged, “not my problem.”  She washed her hands but didn’t bother to clean the mess of the sink she made and used all three towels hanging neatly thereby.
	In the first bedroom the bed was HUGE!  Goldie smiled and leaped right into the big bed.  It was kind of hard in places, lumpy in others and soft everywhere else.  Goldie bounced and bounced, flopped herself down and then did it some more until a board cracked and the bed tilted to one side.
	There was a connecting door to the second bedroom.
	The bed within was small.  Goldie deemed it just about right.  She was worn out from all her bouncing--and consuming breakfast and pies.  She lay on the bed humming to herself, drumming her fingers on her chest (her very flat chest) before sliding under the covers.  Moments later after much ado about scurrying under the quilts, her outer garments came off and Goldie settled down for a little nap.
Cue musical intro; theme from “Jaws”
	Waltzing up to the white picket fence came…
	Three bears.
	The Papa Bear…
	The Momma Bear…
	And the Baby Bear…
	The Papa Bear was tall, dark brown fur, a fishing hat with many lures adorned to it, a fishing vest, and short brown pants.  He seemed jovial, humming a happy-happy song, chuckling and opening the gate for his wife.
	Momma Bear bowed her head, gave her bear hubby a wink and a chuckle and moved into the cottage’s yard.  Behind her marched their son, a smaller version of his Papa, attired in hat and vest, but no pants.  Momma Bear wore a blue dress with lace and was quite endowed in the chest area (like a plumb hefty human woman.)  
	Upon opening the door, the Momma Bear instantly knew something was wrong.  She came directly into the kitchen area, Papa Bear directly behind her.  Papa Bear was unaware and quickly cinched himself against his endearing wife, great bear paws on her hips, going up and down her frame and whisper guttural things into her twitching ear. 
	“Something’s not right, Papa.” Momma Bear said factly.
	“Oh, I’m not doing it right!?” he chuckled and then nipped her neck and placed his great paws up under her dress.
	“Now-now-now,” chastised Momma Bear, “we’ve done enough of that!” she smacked his paws and looked about her pristine (but sparse) kitchen.
	“Someone has been here!” she declared.
	“Huh?” cried out the Papa Bear.  He sniffed about and scanned the kitchen.  Baby Bear crawled up onto his high chair, “Hey, what gives!?” he exclaimed in a very boyish voice.  He was a measure of about 6 or so in human terms.  “Some goof has eaten my breakfast!”
	Papa Bear looked to his bowl and scowled.  “So it would seem mine as well.” he closed and eyes and fumed.
	“Mine, too!” said the Momma Bear.
	“Intruders!” declared Baby Bear.
	“My pies!  My glorious pies!” said Momma Bear.  She was all a fret and nearly wept over her ruined and eaten pies.  “Who could have DONE such a thing!?”
	Papa Bear shook his head sadly and tried to comfort his distraught wife.  They then three retired to the small living room--whereupon they made their next tragic discovery.
	It was Papa Bear’s turn to be a little miffed.  He growled and kicked at the broken chair--of which was no consequence to the chair but only served to caused great pain to his now newly stubbed toe!
	Baby Bear ripped a little squeaker (fart), then opened his eyes wide and made a dash up the stairs (to the bathroom).  Papa Bear giggled, but was still upset at whoever had done what they done to his furniture.
	“What shall we do, Papa?” asked the Momma Bear.
	Papa Bear furled his lips, he didn’t rightly know.
	Suddenly, Baby Bear appeared at the top of the stairs, “Papa, Momma!” he shouted in a whisper, “Come quick!” 
	Up the stairs the parents flew, Baby Bear standing at the open door to his parents’ bedroom.
	“Looky!” said Baby Bear.
	Papa poked his big furry head in, then reared back.  “WHAT!” he growled loudly.
	“Oh my stars!” quipped the Momma Bear from behind.
	Papa Bear slammed his fists into one another, snarled, and sniffed the air.  Something lingered there--something not quite familiar but then again…
	“PAPA!” cried out the Baby Bear (again.)
	And (again) the parents rushed to their cub’s side, he was staring into his own room whereupon his bed under the covers a creature, an invader lay.
	Not knowing who it was, Papa Bear slowly made his way inside, bringing a handy club with him.  Baby Bear clung to his Momma just at the door.  Papa Bear slowly pulled the covers back.
	Goldie was awakened by the covers being drawn back.  She shrieked and Papa Bear jumped back.
	“Why!  You aint nothing but a little welp!” Papa Bear snorted.  Goldie leaped from the bed all a fright, “You-you keep away from me!” she said.  Making a quick dash for the door she was surprised again to find Momma Bear there--glaring.
	“Eat MY pies will ya!” bitched the great brown bear, she backhanded the foolish human child, propelling right back onto the bed.  Papa Bear placed a huge furry paw onto the girl’s chest successfully pinning her despite her best efforts to flail madly about.
	“Help!  Help!” she cried.
	Papa Bear chortled at her pitiful cries.
	“Well now, my oh my!” 
	Goldie fretted at her predicament--it was not to her liking.
	“Now you let me go you-you mangy ole bear!” declared the girl.
	Papa Bear giggled deeply in his bruinish chest, he continued to hold the girl-child down--when she kicked up her legs, she very nearly connected with the great beast’s head.  Papa Bear caught the legs with his other hand and pinned them upwards.
	Baby Bear’s eyes bulged, “Gee Pop, I’ve never seen a human girl like that!”
	“Humph!” grumped the Momma Bear, “She aint much to look at as far as I can see!”
	Papa Bear chuckled then pulled the girl’s legs back further to where her knees where to her shoulders--this allowed her precious rear end to be exposed, she wore frilly undergarments that served as underwear during Victorian times.
	Baby Bear ogled with wide eyes.  Papa Bear smiled and extended a claw snagging the frilly undergarment and tearing them to expose the girl’s bare flesh.  Baby Bear then looked to his growing erection--for a bear cub of six, he had more than a human child of six--much more.
	“I’m going to go remake those pies.” Momma Bear said, “You boys have fun!”
	Papa Bear grinned, Baby Bear lowered his short pants and crawled onto the bed.  Goldie clenched and fussed.  “NO!  NO!  NO!” she exclaimed loudly.
	“When you’re done,” added Momma Bear at the door, “bring down what’s left and I’ll add it to the stew for supper!”
	Papa Bear grinned and winked to his wife.  Baby Bear ogled Goldie’s “goldie”, drooled and crawled up onto the girl, rubbing his 6-inch bear dick against the child’s not-quite-virgin cunny.

	Baby Bear put the young human girl into a state of frenzy--her cries of distress silenced with his mouth about her neck.  He pumped into her almost viciously all the while his Papa stood holding the girl’s limbs from flailing about so.
	Baby Bear didn’t “cum” per se, but close counts.  He got his bear-jollies and then pulled back.  “WOW!” he exclaimed happily.
	Papa Bear chuckled then tousled his son’s head.
	“Is it YOU’RE turn now. Papa?”
	“Why, bless me I believe it is!” he grinned to his son, then snarled to the very distressed freaked out human child.  The great bruin crawled onto the bed and pried the child’s legs apart until they popped at the hips.  There was no fight in the girl, she lay totally stunned.  Papa Bear then guided into the girl his massive bear schlong and instantly pumped her vigorously.
	The bed made incredible squeaking sounds.  Baby bear stroked his cock and looked on excitedly.  Papa Bear pumped furiously, growling as he did so.
	Suddenly, Momma Bear was at the door, “Papa!” she said quickly.
	“What!” bitched back the Papa Bear, “Can’t youz seez I’m fucking buzy!?”
	“There’s two lost children at the door!” the Momma Bear returned.
	“Oh?” the fucking bruin slowed his pumping, “Do we know them?”
	“No, Papa, they are HUMAN children!”

	Indeed, at the door were two human children.  Strange children, even strangerer than Goldie upstairs.  Both were dressed oddly and spoke with a strange accent.  They claimed they had been looking for a particular house, one made of candy as the Momma Bear understood it.
	Meanwhile, upstairs, out of the shadows crept two more humans…

-------
	“Phasing in One--Two--Three!”
	The gray shroud of fog enveloped them--there were lasting moments and then…
	Bright sunlight.  Sunlight streaming thru trees, oaks by the looks of them.  Green-green grass waist high.  There were birds and squirrels, no gloom anywheres.  All seemed peaceful and quaint.  
	John and Jake looked over their group, checked their surroundings, themselves, then checked the Phase Shift indicator.  It didn’t register.  It meant another 24 hrs. at least before any indication of transporting to another “world.”
	“This one looks okay.” Jake surmised.  It was well known that they didn’t have to “enter” the Phase Shift if they didn’t want to, they were just opting to get out of precarious situations (like the 2nd floor of the bear house).  Hearing a train whistle somewhere in the distance gave them insight that they were in some sort of civilization.  
	John checked over the still stunned Goldie.  Her clothes had been rent--along with her young poon.  Jake and John felt a little sorry for her, but she had brought it on herself.  But, neither Jake or John could stand to see the girl broken up into bite sized chunks and delivered to the Momma Bear’s supper pot.
	
A Traipsing We Will Go!
	“Maybe it’s broken.” assumed Drake.
	Jake didn’t want to think about it, but maybe.  Trisha and Kasey didn’t want to think about it, either.  The concept of “parallel worlds” still confused them and didn’t make much sense.  But, their eyes could not be deceived, they had seen many strange things that just couldn’t be explained away.
	By far, though, the minotaur encounter had been the worst and filled their minds nightly--and daily.  None of them had any desire to traipse about a world filled with such horrible beasts.
	The plausibility then occurred (to John and Jake) that there were probably infinite worlds, and somehow they were infused with the history of their Birth World, surely minotaurs and elves were not actual creatures--er, that was to say they were not of the Birth World, Earth.  It was difficult to believe there WERE creatures as such as minotaurs and elves and other types of critters such as the like.  They had to have come from “some other place.”  Jake couldn’t fathom such creatures existing from “some other place”.
	“They may have,” concluded John, “been infused with history.”
	“Huh?”
	John had a difficult time with the conclusion himself.  “Well, those folks who created this menagerie may have also seen our Birth World, been aware of our history, the world of Earth’s history and so incorporated it.  They may not have been aware of the fact that minotaurs and elves were bogus, fantasy creatures.”
	“Ah.” Jake said.  It was still far fetched and considered bullshit.
	But then again…

	John’s granddaughters, Brittany and Samantha were doing well, Brittany had begun her period.  It was a little traumatic but with tag along Kasey, who had had her period for almost a year, helped the girl thru the tumultuous time.  The raids on the various “stores” they had encountered provided those necessary female hygiene products they needed.
	Trisha was eleven and she had not gotten her period yet.  Yet.  John somewhat worried about girls “of age” who had not started their period.  Jake, Drake, and himself had been “putting it to” the girls fairly regularly.  And with their wieners not “wrapped” and cum spewing freely, the possibility of one of the girls getting knocked up was high.
	But he couldn’t stop himself!
	Fourteen year old Drake (almost fifteen by assuming a couple of months had passed) had a strong boner for Brittany.  He loved sticking Kasey, but it was Brittany he enjoyed slipping his snake into most often.  John enjoyed his granddaughters, too--but Trisha and Kasey were “new pussy”--dogging them and getting oral was kinda neat, as well.
	Jake still fretted about Skyler.  Was he dead?  Had he and those he was with went thru the silvery pool?  Did they climb out and find another exit?  Were they sitting waiting at the derelict truck of Forrest’s?  Were they sitting waiting at the Ma & Pa place?
	Drake kinda wished he hadn’t tagged along, his folks were going to be pissed.  But, beings as how the Birth World was being inundated with the Green Tornado phenomenon and portals just opening up everywhere swallowing people--it was a safe bet that his folks probably thought it was what had happened to him.
	Kasey regretted tagging along with Jake, too.  Trish agreed but Jake knew she didn’t really care either way, she hated her folks and traipsing about in new worlds was pretty cool.
	Sort of.
	In the new world there didn’t seem to be a lot.  Clear blue skies, a sun that was “somewhere”, soft breezes, and not a minotaur in sight!  There was a creek, fishes within, and rabbits could be seen darting about, too.  On the Phase Shift indicator--nada.  The needle hadn’t moved, no indication of changing light schemes, the dials and other indicators that came to life when an approaching Shift in universes was about to occur came.
	On the side of a grassy hill a structure was found.  A lean-to that had been built-into the hill.  It was only one room but kinda spacious.  Not much in the way of furniture, just what could be put together from nature itself.  There were blankets and empty tins of whatever, a campfire just outside the open opening, and not much else.
	But it was shelter.
	The group made themselves at home, the boys (Jake/Drake) struck off to look around more, being careful not to step into a portal or etc.  John stayed with the girls.
	The shelter was cleaned up, spruced up, and made homey.  How long they would be in the world they were in was not known.  They had some belongings and stuff to make their traipsing survivable.  Jake and Drake returned an hour later reporting of seeing lots of rabbits and squirrels about.  They fished out their fishing poles and set off for the creek.
	Just then, a huge burst of lightning cracked thru the blue sky above.
	It was incredible.
	Then, a warbling sound was heard.
	“Stay here.” John said to the girls.  The girls hurried to the back of the shelter and huddled.  John and the boys struck off to where the warbling was heard.

	Not far away and they came upon the source, a portal was opening, green shades of light flickering and shimmering.  In the center was a brilliant white light infused with shades of pulsing green.  John mused that it reminded him of a woman giving birth.  And in a way, it was very similar.  
	The center opened and they could see a different scene beyond.  Not much as the “crack” was very small.  But not for long, it grew and grew to reveal two male adults and four kids of various ages.  They were terrified and confused as on their side of the portal it was hellish--wind and blinding light and the warbling was more intense.
	Then, it was over.  Just like that.  The portal ceased to be and there stood the newest newcomers.

	One of the adults was a tall distinguished fellow, well groomed, dark haired, mid thirties.  Dress slacks with a simple non-dress shirt.  A simple watch, wedding ring, a stern-firm looking appearance, but congenial as well.  Two girls cuddled/huddled to him in extreme fright, about eight and ten years young.  
	The other adult seemed a little whacked, Chinese eyes with kinky dark hair, very-very tan skin.  He had a small backpack with him that he clutched.  His ears were ringing and his mind was frapped.
	Two girls and a boy were there, too.  The girls about eleven or so, the  boy a two or three years younger.
	“W-where are we?” inquired the first adult.
	“Uh, the Land of Confusion mostly.” replied John.
	“Parallel world?” asked the second adult.
	“Yep, one of many.” snickered Jake.	
	“So it’s true!?”
New Friends
	They looked like trout, rainbow trout to be exact.  The creek was full of them, no toads or waterbugs, or any other associated pesky insects.  No nettles (the stinging kind) along the banks, either--just moss and overhanging clover.
	Jake and Drake did the fishing task first--then, their talk turned to the newbies.
	“I heard Molly fart, just a little squeaker!” chortled Jake.
	“I heard Colleen peeing!”
	The boys went on and on about the newest arrivals--so much so that they shed their clothes and began frolicking in the creek.  The water wasn’t too deep nor wide and just right for frolicking.
	Getting hungry, though, the pair grabbed up their catch and hustled to the cave-shelter--still naked.  It was an assumption that the newbies would either join in on the shenanigans John-Jake-Drake had come to love and enjoy on a daily basis (when applicable), or not.  It was a new way of life, no laws to say hey-or-nay.  No one to scorn you for your insatiable lust of flesh.
	Young Goldie was the first to see the naked pair, she was firstly stunned, then feasted her eyes on the proud protruding prongs.  Goldie could not walk so easily, her legs at the hips had been popped by the ravaging pissed off Papa Bear and though John and Jake had popped the legs at the hips back in place, Goldie still could not walk (not without help).
	The newbie girls all stared wide eyed at the naked pair, 
	“Gee, Daddy,” spoke up eight year old Molly, “they’ve got one almost as big as yours!”
	This was information “Mike” did not wish to be known (in mixed unknown company.)  Of course, with young children they were apt to spout anything at anytime anywhere without thought.  And, too, young girls often were aware of their father’s schlong-member; either by choice, accident, or on purpose.
	Mike was embarrassed but did not admonish his young offspring.  The older daughter blushed and looked elsewhere rather than to Jake and Drake’s nakedness.
	The naked duo deposited their catch and reported that the creek was full of fish.
	“And no tarter sauce!” complained Trisha.
	“I’ve never had fish.” said Goldie a bit confused.  
	“When yer hungry,” scoffed John, “you’ll eat anything.”
	
*

Little Discoveries
	It wasn’t a matter of “who liked who” the best or anything, no girlfriend-boyfriend relationship status, but a repore had been established between the sexes of the group--specifically Jake and Kasey, Drake and Brittany.  Trisha and Samantha were “up for grabs” and usually enjoyed by everyone.  John favored them all…
	So it was Jake and Kasey following the creek, sometimes at a fast pace (as it went down hill) and then nonchalantly meandering not paying much attention.  Which was unwise.  In a world (or worlds) where nothing was for certain and the next step could plummet you into a new universe, it was wise to be cautious.
	At length the two wanderers came to their senses and paused to get a reality check as well as check their surroundings and position in accordance to where they were the cave-shelter was.
	After deeming they were safe, Jake kicked off his shoes and soaked them in the creek.
	“What do you think about the new people?”
	Jake shrugged, he didn’t really care for the two adult males, the girls were alright.  The boy needed his ass whipped, a smart ass he was.
	“They’re alright, I guess.”
	“That boy needs slapped!” stated Kasey.  Her shoes she kicked off as well, then slid down her pants.  No underwear.  Her top she doffed then slid nakedly into the cool refreshing waters.  Jake smiled then peeled to the skin.  His skin, along with the others (of his group) had become very tan.  
	After a bit of frolic the two came to the mossy shore with Kasey on top of him.  It had actually been “awhile” since they had done anything kinky--since the incident at the nuns’ outpost, the Sister of the Calming Hand, the group had kept to themselves trying to occupy their minds with thoughts of other than seeing the poor Sisters ripped and fucked to shreds.  It kind of put a damper on the usual sexual antics…
	But in a landscape that seemed tranquil, no menacing minotaurs (or bears) lurking about, sexual frolicking seemed just the thing.  Jake’s jake slid nicely into Kasey’s twelve year old cunt, his hands gripped her soft ass and the two began to mesh their bodies.  Kasey’s nipples became pert and Jake took pleasure in sucking them.
	“I know you, Jake,” giggled Kasey, her not-so-soft anymore brown hair cascading down her face, “you wanna do them new girls!” 
	Jake giggled back and blushed, it was true, but he wasn’t going to admit it.  He suckled on Kasey’s nipples, engulfing the whole of her breast mound--his cock growing intensely in the girl’s poon.
	They soon locked lips and Kasey locked her pussy to her lover’s cock.  She pumped and pumped, Jake’s hands clamped tightly to her ass flesh, pulling her cheeks wide open.  If Drake or John had of been with them, one of them would have been poking his way into her backdoor.
	Their copulating did not go unnoticed, however.  Kasey snuggled her face against Jake’s, whispering into his ear-- “Someone’s watching us.”
	Jake at first was enthralled--he loved it when someone watched him fuck--or be fucked.  Then he worried; someone new?  Someone of the group?  
	“Can you see who it is?” Jake asked, the strength of his cock was beginning to die out and he realized he had missed his ejaculation during the concern about who was watching them!
	“Not sure, dark hair--in the bushes off to the right.” Kasey whispered.  She sat up, Jake’s cock still in her sopping wet snatch.  Jake caressed the girl’s body, squeezing her titties.  His mind rested on the newcomers, Shannon, Molly, Colleen and Maggie.
	Kasey stretched, yawned, farted, and began to pee…
	Jake giggled and felt the warm gush of her urine splashing onto his balls.  She lay back down on him, kissed and gyrated her hips about, “It’s that guy, the older one.”
	Mike.
	Mike was the father of Shannon and Molly.
	 Jake didn’t care.  Kasey didn’t care.  They continued fooling around for a bit more then stood up and let the unseen sun bask their lovely nude bodies.  Jake caught sight of the slinking spying man--Jake smiled (to himself) and turned Kasey around, bent her over, then proceeded to spank her ass.	
	Just lightly, but enough to make a decent “smacking” sound.  He parted the girl’s cheeks then began fingering her hole.  Kasey’s ass was pointed into the direction of the hiding newcomer.  Soon Jake’s jake was stiff again and he happily inserted it into the poop chute.
	His balls slapped against Kasey’s body, cinched up against her poon as he strained his organ in her crap tract.  He hoped the spying Mike was cool and would sometime let him get at his own two girls.

**

	Mike was a busy guy, spying.  Late that same day, at night, Goldie stirred and whispered to John--she had to pee.  Her legs were still too fucked up to allow her to walk on her own.  John happily helped her, she was basically nude and remained so ‘cept when the temp dropped too much and then she was wrapped in a blanket.
	Jake woke up as he heard the two stirring and exiting the cave-shelter.  He didn’t sit up or anything, but was just awake.  A smaller campfire had been constructed within the cave to make it warmer within.  By the glow of the firelight he saw once more Mr. Mike sneaking his way to the exit, too.
	It took a lot of stealthy doing but Jake managed to go unnoticed as he trailed after Mike.  Mike slipped along the side of the hill of the cave and to the area designated as a place where to “go to the bathroom.”
	It took a long while but Jake determined that Mike was jacking himself.  It was damn hard to see anything else, damn hard.  But Jake determined, too, that John was putting it to Goldie.  He didn’t know in which manner but it was a safe bet.
	Whatever John was doing, it didn’t take long and he (with Goldie) came slowly back, John carrying Goldie.  
	“Asshole!” cried out the girl.  But Jake wasn’t sure if she meant HER asshole (and it hurt) or she was addressing John as a noun…
	Once they had returned to the cave-shelter, Jake slipped out more whereas he could be seen--butt bare assed naked and flogging his dog.  It was odd that the “moon” could be seen, along with a few jillion stars, but not the sun.  The stars were not of any form John or Jake knew.  No conformity to anything they could recognize as “stars of home.”
	Anyways, Jake stood just a little ways from the entrance of the cave-shelter--flogging his dog when he was distinctively aware of “someone” close by.  He assumed it was Mike.  Upon reflection, he deemed that it could just as well been a sneaky minotaur!
	But it was Mike.
	“Hi.” Mike said in a low “indoor voice.”
	Jake pretended to be startled and gave the newcomer a slight double-take.  Mike still had his manhood out, it was still “erect” and Mike was still jerking it.  Jake returned to his flogging and stepped just an inch or so closer to Mike.
	A cool breeze helped soften the moment, Mike’s hand came to rest lightly on Jake’s bare ass.  From then on it was gravy.  Jake turned his butt more--then bent over just a scosh.  Mike rubbed and rubbed--rubbed and rubbed--and then rubbed and rubbed some more before finally guiding his rock hard cock to Jake’s offered ass and dragging it up and down the crack.
	Jake parted a cheek and continued flogging himself.
	Mike poked the teen’s poop chute, gripped hips and plunged himself in.  Jake tensed up and the sudden (but expected) intrusion.  Mike slowly made anal entry, pulling out part way in and spanking the ass with his cock.
	Jake stood up as he was about to spew.
	He looked to Mike’s hardness--Mike looked to Jake’s.
	Jake flogged his organ faster and faster.
	Mike stroked his and then took over flogging Jake.
	Jake eased to his knees and eyed Mike’s schlong, licked his lips and drank in the mustiness of the sex organ.  He then lapped at the glistening knob before running his tongue all about the prong’s crown.  Moments later he was downing the manhood, swallowing it--drinking it into his gullet and sucking hard as he clutched to the man’s balls.

	In the cave-shelter, John sat up with his back to the smoothest wall section there was.  He had stoked the campfire and got it blazing again, it did worry him about the blazing fire--it could possibly alert others--others who they did NOT wish to encounter.
	But warmth and light overruled.  His seven year old granddaughter, Samantha, had become awakened.  When asked if she needed to “pee” she shook her sleepy head, “Britty’s snoring.” she replied in a sleepy voice.  She rubbed her eyes, “--and she farted!” 
	John smiled and giggled then carefully brought his young’un onto his lap--his nakedly exposed naked lap.  Soon his own hardness was gliding nicely up and down the child’s ass crack, she was actually about eight, they had been out of their Birth World a long time and the girl had possibly had a birthday.
	As John’s manhood eased into Samantha’s well fucked fuckable snatch, he was keenly aware that Mike’s daughter, Molly, was watching them.  Thirteen year old Colleen was watching, too.  Both girls peeked from under their covers.  He had seen them still clothed get under their blankets but didn’t know if they were still clothed.  He saw no movements and could just barely make out their stunned shocked unblinking eyes.
	John spread Sam’s cheeks and slid himself in further…

***

Fill ins
	Fishing, hunting, and supplying the newbies with the parallel universe concept and some of the “places” the group had been to.  The minotaur story was downplayed, but it was conveyed to Mike that it was not pretty and very terrible just the same.
	The second afternoon John waltzed in with a fine catch of small animals that would make a fitting stew.  Wild mushrooms and other assorted root vegetables had been found and would add to the stew meat.  Mike and his girls were gone, the parallel universe concept a bit hard to swallow.  They hadn’t “left” on their own, just a walk to talk things over.  Jake said they mentioned something about the creek. 
	John deposited the “catch of the day.”  Jake took the task of cleaning them as it was not too popular by the squeamish girls who found the whole thing revolting.  Squirrels, rabbits, and whatever else just didn’t sit well with the girls to gut and skin.  ‘But when yer hungry, you’ll eat anything!’	
	At the creek John snuck up on Mike and his girls.  The girls were nude and “bathing” in the creek, Mike had his pants rolled up, shirt off, dick hard inside his pants.
	Looking around for security’s sake, Mike cautiously held his young one, Molly.  Her butt to his crotch he patted her tummy and then began fingering her young-hood.  Molly giggled and pushed his hand away and made like she didn’t want him to do that to her.  She was all a-glee, though, happy and being playful.	 Mike then in one fell swoop shucked his pants and charged after his girls, tagging them and frolicking with them on a higher level.
	He soon had Molly pinned to the mossy bank and took to spanking her, not hard and not out of anger.  Then it was parting the cheeks and driving his manly fatherhood into her glory hole.
	The girl took it well, tossing her pretty head back and forth as it was smushed to the clover beneath her.  Her hands were released from being pinned to her backside, she didn’t flail about or anything after--one she stuck under her body,  the other pulled a cheek open.
	Mike pushed himself half way into her hole, pumped vigorously and then pulled out to hump/spank on the girl’s ass--then he went back in, driving himself fully into her and completing the sodomy with a gracious copious amount of hot fatherly cum.
	It didn’t take long before Mike and his girls became a “part” of the John/Jake group.  And they were well welcomed.  Colleen, her smart mouthed brother, Brian, and Colleen’s friend Maggie were nextly to “come along.”
	Gram was a weird bird, a friend of Mike’s.  He kept to himself, wandered off by himself and was gone for hours.  He spoke very little and didn’t say much when he did!  And though Mike’s friend, Mike knew very little about the young adult himself--only that he (Mike) kinda wished he hadn’t fell in cahoots with him.

Naughty things I know about you
	As far as churches go, Calvary Bible was pretty big, housing some 900 parishioners on any given Sunday--two morning services, a dozen various adult classes, three large parking lots, and a very happy pastoral staff (as the congregation paid them very well.)
	Mike Colmes was one of those helping the pastoral staff live well.  But the congregation was filled with mostly business type people--those who OWNED and operated business; those who did well (really well) in real estate; those who had silver spoons in the mouths and gold ones in their ass.  Mike worked as a product supervisor for a large fruit and vegetable conglomerate--his wife was the daughter of the owner.
	Shannon and Molly were the only children, but not for the lack of trying.  He loved his daughters--a lot, and they him.  The wife split her time from volunteering in the nursery and playing the piano for the choir.  And like many parishioners, Mike had a chosen place to sit and enjoy the service.  But with so many peoples, that sometimes was not always possible.
	And it was one such time that Mike wished (upon reflection) that he and Shannon had gotten their regular seat.  Mike himself taught an adult Sunday school class, it was sandwiched in between the first service and the second service.  After collecting his number two child and scurrying to get to the 2nd service, he found his regular pew filled to capacity.
	A coffee break, chatting with others, checking on number one child had delayed him.  No biggie, he and Shannon found another spot.  But the parishioner in front of them was a smoker and reeked.
	At another pew seat the view to the pulpit was blocked by a very LARGE man.  So yet another seat was selected.  It was way back of the sanctuary and off to the side.  It was still no biggie.  Not really.  
	During he service announcements and singing and more announcements, Mike and Shannon got “chummy.”  real chummy.  They stood close with Mike consoling his child, rubbing her shoulders and patting her back.  At the time of their arrival there had been no one behind them, most of the congregation occupied the very center of the nave, over flowers filled out the sides with stragglers lingering in the back pews.
	Soon the “consoling” took on a deeper aspect as Mike slipped his hand down and patted the girl’s butt.  Shannon wrapped an arm about her daddy, Mike continued rubbing and caressing--and patting her butt.  Shannon raised up her short plaid skirt revealing just a bit of her pink underwear.  Mike patted the panty clad ass and seemed restless.
	Then, Shannon slid her panties down, exposing a butt cheek.
	Mike rubbed, caressed and began to sweat.
	Then, Mike was scurrying his child out the side door and to parking lot C.  He was totally unaware that he had been “observed.” 

	The Colmes’ family transport vehicle was a van.  Not a boxy typical van, but a trendy shapely family one.  Once at the van the two quickly clambered in with young eight year old Shannon giggling all the way--her daddy smiling.
	On her hands and knees the giggling girl went, there was no rear seat and it was there the two went.  The windows were well tinted and the parking lot was empty (of wandering parishioners.)  Mike rubbed on the darling wiggling butt, sliding the short kiddie skirt up to reveal pink underwear.  His hands moved over the child’s body, but he was sweating and in a bad-bad way.
	With slight trembling hands he lowered the pink undies with cartoon girlie characters emblazoned all over.  When the bare bum of the child was revealed, Mike let out a slight moan.  Like a snake, his tongue darted wildly; his lust increased ten-fold and to of his dress slacks came his cock.
	A finger delved into the child’s anus, he licked the crack and fingered the young pussy before his cock came along and humped.  All over the darling butt Mike glided his cock, up the crack and between the legs--humping against the young hairless poon.
	“Put it in me, Daddy!” exclaimed the child.
	It both pleased the “daddy” as well as alarmed him.  Children were too easy to spout off words “daddys” didn’t want anyone to know.  But his lust level was too high to care and into the child’s backdoor he went…
	Hands on the hips, Mike pumped slowly, guiding his normal sized 6 ½ incher into his daughter’s asshole.  Shannon didn’t seem to be too distressed, she grunted and pressed her head to the blue carpeting.  Mike eased his manhood more and more until he was all the way in, then he began to pump again.
	Shannon smoothed her own hands over her ass and even fingered her pussy.  She sucked on her fingers and Mike began to pump furiously.  Shannon endured, biting her lips, clenching her face and made odd noises as her darling butt was pounded.
	Mike finally achieved the goal he so sought, a great gob of incestuous love cream filled his daughter’s hole, he pumped and pumped and pumped; strained and strained to get every ounce of enjoyment from the devilish deed as he could.  Finally pulling out his steaming member emptied more gobs of goo onto the girl’s ass.  Mike admired the naked ass, his cum and Shannon’s hole slowly snapping shut, squeezing out his man juice.
	Drenched in sweat and his lust level not completed petered out, he turned his child over and removed her pink panties.  Shannon knew what was next, she pulled her skirt up and her daddy “went down on her” licking and sucking on her little hairless poon.
	Shannon giggled and gushed and Mike soon lay his prong against her poon and humped.  He longed to actually get into her, but would have to wait.

Busted!
	Mike didn’t know the man, but he introduced himself as Gram.  He was pleasant and some years younger.  He seemed shifty and uneasy, but Mike quickly guessed that that was because the man was not a “people person” and at church--there were a lot of people.
	When Gram told Mike “I know what you did” and “I have it on tape”, Mike nearly passed out right then and there.  Services had concluded, there was the general mingling afterwards, Shannon had gone to find her mommy and/or sister and/or friends.
	Mike was stunned--beyond belief.  Gram showed him a small compact video camera with LCD screen.  It showed full color Mike stuffing his daughter’s asshole in vivid detail.  Mike was speechless.
	“Don’t worry, mate, it’s cool.”
	Mike was once more stunned.
	Gram was a curious bird.  He and Mike did not exactly become “friends” in the sense of what friends meant to everyone else, and with Gram having something on Mike, it made Mike desire not to piss the “curious bird” off.
	Gram, though, was easy going.  Not a lot he let out about himself, though--whether or not he had a family, parents, or even a home.  He never spoke of them or a job.  Mike didn’t ask, either.  There were “other” interests whereas were more fulfilling.
	And with Gram Gruntman having one of those nifty-swifty mind altering devices--those “other” interests became a major part of their relationship.  Mike was a little so-so about it, half-hearted and not 100 percent enthused.  But then again…
	The “device” was not grand and had very limited abilities.  Its sole command was to overwhelm minds--stunning them for a limited time.  It did nothing more and not all minds were affected.  There, too, was little indication to indicate that a mind selected had been “touched.”
	The first two-three-four invites to go with Gram on a “spree” were declined.  Mike couldn’t.  He was a family man, respected, a Church goer, and so on and so forth.  He worried if Gram could be a problem--to hold what he had on video about him and his shenanigans with daughter Shannon.
	Gram never brought it up.
	But Mike WAS curious.  All in the news all across the nation mind devices were being used by nefarious peoples to get their way sexually or financially or both.  Mobs and crime syndicates were rising exponentially and the destruction of the nation was at hand.
	There was, of course, counter measures that would fuck up the mind altering devices.  It was a booming business.  
	Mike’s curiosity was too high to put off the invites from Gram.  Finally, when he could swing it without much ado or questions arisen about his “whereabouts” from his wife or anyone else, Mike accepted and went off with Gram to a new adventure.

Doubts of tranquility
	Mike’s next recollection was with him on top of a woman NOT his wife.  His slacks and underwear at his ankles, ankles out the open door as he lay on top of the woman NOT his wife.  With powerful thrusts he plowed into the woman NOT his wife, ejaculating wads and wads of manly cum.
	The woman NOT his wife was in her mid 20s, very nice looking, reddish curly hair, very nice looking and appealing.  Tight jeans and 38Cs.  Her eyes stared up blankly to the ceiling of her car, her shirt had been popped open and bra cups popped up to reveal those lovely 38Cs.
	At the moment of ejaculation Mike came to his senses.
	A little late.
	It was actually AFTERwards, when the plummeting of his sexual prowess peaked and then dived to the bottom of his sexual well.  He had satisfied a fantasy of his, making love to another woman NOT his wife.  But he had, too, fell into the depths of unhusband-like shenanigans.  Of course, putting it to his daughter(s) assholes was in there, as well.
	But this was adultery.
	Was it worse than sodomizing his children?
	His lust plateau still reigned high--but his mind had developed regret.  The regret was quickly overwhelmed if not overshadowed by the lingering lust.  There was an air of thrill in the submission of his doing(s), his mind had basically blanked out any others he may have involved himself in.  He DID love his wife, but she wasn’t the “kinky” kind; the most she would submit to was getting on top once in a while and/or taking a shower/bath with him.  No “backdoor”, spanking, peeing, 69ing, between the tits, around the world, nothing.
	He didn’t even no the woman beneath him.  The regret filled him once more; then he looked into the backseat.
	New found strange friend Gram was there, naked; and he was putting it to a young girl a little younger than his Shannon.  Mike was mesmerized, the little girl’s clothes were scattered on the floor, her mind zapped, her legs spread apart.  Gram had licked his fill and then fingered her, lubed her up with a special cock jelly, then began making every effort to penetrate her.
	Mike wanted to stop him, she was too young.
	Mike recalled stuffing Molly’s back door when she was about that age, though--coaxing her to jack him off and suck the head of his dick.  Slowly he began to feel a little ill.
	The woman beneath him moaned.

And on and on it went.  Zapping unsuspecting young adult women, teenage girls of various ages, and pre-teens, and single digit aged girls.  On and on it went, waylaying them, laying in wait, zapping them.  Behind supermarkets, office complexes, late evenings, after a late show let out at a movie theatre…
	On and on it went.	
	A strange incident stayed in Mike’s mind, it involved not a girl or girls or such as the like--not from the onset.  It was a boy.  A pair of boys.  Young boys, fourteen-ish.  Mike couldn’t quite ascertain exactly how it all came to be, but Gram was becoming more and more bolder, and he was trying to upgrade the mind altering device he had.
	With the boys, Leon and Rod(ney), Gram was able to facilitate vocal commands.  “get them to do stuff”  basically.  It was hit & miss and didn’t always work.  But with Leon and Rodney, it did.
	The first meeting encounter was at a park.  A sunny day, picturesque, lots of “possibles” running amok.  Leon and Rodney had been playing soccer and other park related games, then struck off on their own to the restrooms set at the very back edge of the park that was nestled up against woodland.  A creek was there and a walking trail.
	Their business in the bathroom was their own, Mike and Gram couldn’t make the bee-line fast enough before the two fellows emerged.  They were chummy and not brothers.  They were typical boys who looked longingly upon the various girls at the park.  It was so noted that both had boners bulging in their pants and the two snuck off into the woodland.
	Mike and Gram followed on the sly.
	The boys tossed rocks into the creek, farted, strained to force a fart and almost shit their pants, then whipped out their schlongs and masturbated.  Gram was pleased.  He liked boys as well as girls.  Mike reluctantly admitted that he did so as well.
	The subject boys were mind-zapped in mid stroke.  It was a hit as the boys stopped stroking themselves.  Gram tested the new upgrade feature, Vocal Command Issuance.
	Success!
	The boys followed the VCI, going deeper into the woods and off the beaten path.  When it was deemed they had gone far enough, they were stopped.  Then, they were commanded to “drop pants.”
	The boys did.
	Gram took no time in fondling the boys, caressing their ass and pressing his cock against their bare skin.  Mike remained cautiously alert and didn’t join in--not right in.
	Gram soon had the boys naked and on their hands and knees.  After examining their gloryholes, he determined both boys were anal virgins.  But not for long.  With a little spittle, some anal lube, and dire determination, Gram stuffed Leon and creamed his hole.
	Mike noted that Leon nearly came out of his frozen mind stupor, he made faces, groaned, and blinked his eyes excessively.  His asshole smoldered and expelled great quantities of cum from Gram’s proud hole fucking schlong.  His dick was “dirty” so he used the boy’s own underwear to clean it, then he wiped down the boy’s fresh fucked rectum.
	Rodney was offered up to Mike who had a boner raging strong, but Mike was too nervous and alarmed.  If he wanted to shag a boy he would do so on his own, privately.  
	Gram wasn’t annoyed or miffed, he sucked on the boy’s cock, spanked him, peed on him, then got the boy to suck him!  When the pivotal point of ecstasy came Gram quickly got behind the boy and stuffed his virginal a-hole.

	It wasn’t the last for Leon and Rodney, there were two more incidences worth mentioning.  The second encounter was once more at the park.  This time, though, it was more intense and Mike DID involved himself, stuffing Leon’s shitter to the hilt and creaming DEEP into the boy’s hole.  Gram had been working (again) on upgrading the minding device, his first attempt failed and actually shut down the whole unit.  It was weeks before Gram regained Success!
	For Leon and Rodney they seemed “okay”, it wasn’t for sure certainty that they were worried or leery, but sometimes it seemed that way.  It was noticed that they didn’t traipse off into the woodlands beyond the park anymore, though.
	Leon had a family, a mother-father-and baby sister.  The sister had near constantly a tagalong friend.  Mike and Gram were kinda interested in the family, minus the dad.  The sister was cute, dark brown curly hair, dazzling eyes, and a tight butt.  Her friend was a shoulder length blond headed girl with emerald eyes.  She was WAY too cute for her own good.  She also usually played about in a dress of one type or another.

Then what happened?…
	What happened next Mike still had to configure in his mind.  He couldn’t see it clearly although he was there, a part of it.  The next thing he knew they were at the house of Leon.  Rodney was there as well as Leon’s parents, sister, and her constant tagalong friend.
	In Leon’s bedroom the boys were naked.  Cum dripped from the assholes as well as from the tips of their teenage schlongs.  Cum also dripped from the corners of their mouths.  
	Mike saw himself naked.  Gram was himself nude, cum dripping from his prick.  Mike had to wonder if he himself had not been under some control of a minding device.  He couldn’t believe that he would commit himself to such outlandish venturing.  Playing around in the open public, in the woods, parked cars, secluded areas was one thing, but in someone’s home was quite another.
	Then, Mike recalled vocal commands being issued to Leon and Rodney.
	“You love each other, as sex mates.  You want to butt fuck each other almost daily, if your cocks can stand it.  You want to suck each other off, drink the cum, and be peed on--on almost a daily basis.
	“You’ll want to spank each other and slip the tongue into your friend.  You’ll want to give rim jobs to your partner but still lust for girls.  Girls your age are fine, but younger girls Chelsea’s age are better!”
	And speaking of Chelsea--she was in the family room on her back.  Her friend Veronica was there, too.  Veronica’s knees were pulled back to reveal her blue panties.  Her blue plaid skirt was hiked up and the girl seemed “dazed.”  Chelsea’s pants were at her ankles, her yellow panties were tight and snug to her body and she lay perfectly still.
	Something to the effect of “You’re going to fuck your sister at least once a week.  You’ll poke her in the ass once a week.  You’ll cum off in her sweet mouth--once a week.”
	The same went for Veronica.
	Both Leon and Rodney were to molest the girls--along with molesting themselves.  There, too, was commands issued to the girls.  Mike didn’t think those commands “held” as the girls made faces of sincere concern, questioning the invading commands.
	The girls’ panties were pulled off and it wasn’t Leon or Rodney who took first dibs to the virgin pair, Mike and Gram did.  Gram nailed young Chelsea while Mike fingered, licked, sucked, spanked, and finally began easing his cock into the eight year old’s virgin poon.
	Leon’s mother also received “commands.”  to allow her son and Rodney to fool with the girls--along with getting sex from her son (and Rodney) once a week--at the very least.
	The daddy was to fool with the girls AND his son (and Rodney.)
	Gram was pleased with his work.  Mike was so-so.  The total destruction of a family unit in one fell swoop.  Mike fucked the mother, Gram re-fucked the girls…
Moving right along…	
	And so it came to pass that Mike had his girls, Molly and Shannon.  Gram was along as he was now a family friend.  They were off for an ice cream run.  Mike’s wife was socializing, brown nosing with her parents’ friends at a social meeting of uppity snooty peoples.
	Gram had screwed Mike’s wife, it was sort of a turn-about as Gram had paved the way for Mike to fully involve himself in exorbitant fantasies.  Mike had watched the first time, then the second time he got involved by stuffing his wife’s virgin asshole.  Gram offered to “make her a slut” for Mike, but Mike did go for it.  But he didn’t actually say “NO” to the idea.  He fantasized and reeled in the thought of seeing his kinda domineering wife to be suddenly submissive--to go naked about the house, spread her ass cheeks upon command, to drop to her knees and suck his willy before he went off to work and when he returned.
	At the ice cream shoppe there was a near packed house.  The news reports of green tornadoes and vortexes, portals, and “doorways” to other worlds opening up around the area did little scatter the ice cream hungry minions.
	While waiting for their order to be processed, three “subjects” came to be of interest.  There were many-many subjects in the crowded shoppe, many.  But the three of interest took special honors--mostly due in part of the smart mouthed young boy in their midst.
	It was two girls and a boy.  One of the girls was the boy’s sister.  The girls were nice, friendly, and looked delicious.  The boy was smart mouthed and undisciplined.  He was rude and boisterous and an attention getter.  He was also nine years young.
	When sighting in on Gram, the boy went nuts--asking about the kinky black hair with the slanted Chinese eyes.  He was bold and embarrassing--to his sister who had more respect than to ask such things.
	Gram had a Chinese mother and a black (African-American) father.
	Gram smiled at the boy, the boy’s sister angrily grabbed her smart mouthed brother and slammed him up against the ice cream counter.  Mike merely gave the undisciplined youth a sorry look of disappointment.  The boy caught the look and asked boldly “Is there something on my face?” among other idiotic quips.
	“You’re not coming with us anymore!” said the boy’s sister.
	“I am SO coming!” nearly yelled the boy.
	“Nut-uh, yer not even HOT yet!” giggled the other girl in their group.
	The boy’s sister understood the innuendo and blushed beet red.  No one else apparently got it--well, Mike and Gram did.  (did you?)
	The trio merely got a large fountain soda with one dollup of ice cream, it was all they could afford.  The boy griped about it and tried to take more than his share.  The girls were exasperated with him.  Gram had a solution.
	Oh boy!