August Moone
Book 10
Chapter 1
It’s Not As Easy As It Sounds
(but is sounds easy!)

Disturbed beginnings
	“What did you bring me?”
	“A nice Bordeaux…and a cheeseburger.”
	“You’re such a romantic.” she replied dryly.
	Clavis smiled, nodded, and had that “twinkle” in his eyes that swooned his life mate, Rose.  Rose accepted the wine—and the cheeseburger.  She didn’t loathe cheeseburgers—but with wine?  Actually—yes.  It was an oddball thing with her; one extreme and then the other.  Wine and “cheeseburgers” didn’t necessarily go together—but then neither did she and Clavis.
	The setting was City Central Park; surrounded by tall skyscrapers, the noise of the traffic, and birds, Clavis and Rose enjoyed their afternoon picnic.  It was a thing with them—and had been thru the years of their courtship.  They were married but continued acting as if they were still simply courting.  It helped keep the relationship fresh and active.  When the rigors of the Agency got to them one of them—usually Rose—would place a simple white rose somewhere for Clavis to find.  It was a sign—although subtle—that a picnic was in order.
	Three days after the Ozzie incident debacle (story upcoming—yeah, there’s more) and Clavis found a white rose in his morning paper.  Agent Onion and Rocky were at the Agency house breakfast table reading their own paper;
	“Damn Sox cant win for shit!” bitched Rocky.
	“Told you to tell them that that deal trading Fannington for Carlittle was a bad deal!” chuckled Onion.
	“Hell,” Rocky continued to bitch, “the damn Blue Jays doin’ better than the Sox!”
	Onion chuckled again and took stock of his “stocks.”
	“Dabner Products not looking to good,” he mused, “Absynthe is going up—they got a good future.”
	“How’s the Perma-Doc futures look?” asked Agent Chuckles sauntering in.
	“Up twenty points since the last time you asked.”

	Chuckles poured himself a cup of coffee, added a shot of Irish whiskey, then sat down at the table with his mates.  Selecting a paper from the pile of papers he settle down casting a wayward eye to the field agent setting with them.  He noticed the white rose.
	“Got plans today?” Chuckles asked already knowing.
	“I did.” Clavis said with a half snicker.
	There was a slight pause; the other two continued their banter of sports and stock market follies.  Chuckles got up leaving the room to an adjoining room returning moments later with a bottle of wine.
	“Take this with you,” Chuckles said, “it’s new.  A gift from a client.”
	Clavis accepted the offering.  The two men had a rapport; they were about the same age for one.  Both had saved the other’s ass during interesting escapades and earned the other’s respect.  They had military experience prior to joining the Agency, too.
	“Tell her I said hi,” Chuckles said as Clavis exited the kitchen, “but don’t tell her the wine’s from me.” He smiled and winked at his friend; Rose and Chuckles had a relationship, too; non-sexual.  At times and Rose had found Chuckles, rude—crude—obnoxious.  Some people just don’t get along and have one of those instant dislikes.  For some reason, Rose didn’t care for Chuckles.  And try as he might—Chuckles just couldn’t win her over.

	“What’s the plan for today?” Rose asked off-handedly.
	“No plans,” Clavis said settling down working the cork out of the bottle, “just you.” He wasn’t overly romantic but he had some charming qualities.
	Pouring the wine into some “plastic” champagne glasses he was smiling.
	“What?” Rose said—she was used to the oddness of her life mate; he found some things in life—funny.  Rose was a little more serious and did not find the same things all that humorous.  But—that was ok; she loved him despite his failings.
	“The wine,” he mused, “from Chuckles.”
	Rose rolled her eyes.  “Probably poison.” (under her breath)
	Rose “Darlene” Beetrix.  Reddish brown hair, deep blue eyes, dainty turquoise earrings.  She had a small roundish face, had an English background but had never been to England.  Clavis had promised to take her there—someday.  She was a city girl but the country life was ok, too—to a degree; not all the time and definitely not as a lifestyle.
	Simple clothing, nothing too trendy or gouache; leather and suede were her main attire.  No pumps, no sandals—sensible shoes good enough to run in if need be.  Not too keen on dresses or short skirts but not opposed.  Long skirts were ok now and then; not much into “jeans”, either.
	 There was a time, though, when Rose preferred dresses and skirt outfits over jeans and jean shorts--when she was a teenager of all things!  Light skimpy dresses—and nothing underneath!
	Oh those teen years!
	She wasn’t overly promiscuous but she was a little over sexed…
	But society was to blame; basically every television program, a movie at the theatre, school, neighbors, and household had some sort of “sex” going on.  And although teenage boys were usually the oversexed ones—teen girls were just as bad.
	Also pre-teen boys like Rose’s little brother, Jim-bob.
	James Robert was a quirky twelve year old; heavily into mischief but luckily enough to escape being caught at it.  He had a knack for that and both he and his sister (Rose) were equal on that measure.  On one such occasion—
	Jim-bob found high interest in the new neighbors, specifically the girls Molly and Charlotte.  Their dad, Ty, was a tall biker who worked long hours at a nearby industrial warehouse.  The girls, Molly, fifteen, and Charlotte, seventeen, had the house to themselves.  No mother in sight.  Jim-bob found that up in the attic he had optimum view of the girls in their second story bedroom—usually prancing about in their skin.
	Rose and Jim-bob had a good relationship; if they weren’t trying to get the other in trouble of some sort they were plotting together to get someone else in trouble—their parents usually; neighbors, other family members when it was to their advantage (i.e. usually regarding a monetary reward of some kind.)
	And as usual—if you have kids in the house and the house is “quiet”—something’s up.  Beware!  But on this one incidence the parental units were out in the backyard with neighbors they liked drinking and barbequing.  Rose noted that she hadn’t seen her pesky brother “in a while” and that meant he was up to something—somewhere.
	Sneaking up to his room and into a shared bathroom via the door from her bedroom she saw her dweeb brother in his bed.  It was ten o’clock at night!  Saturday night!  No twelve year old boy was in bed at that hour on a Saturday night!  (and he wasn’t sick soooo)
	A little “hand action” under the bed covers suggested to Rose that her brother was “up to something”.  She smiled—she always wanted to catch him in the act of whackin’ off.  He had caught her doing same and she vowed to get him back.  As brother and sister—no, they hadn’t so far to this point in their lives engaged in any immoral incestuous actions.  Not yet.  Spying on one another, blatant exposing themselves (when younger) and shit like that—sure, but nothing immoral.  Not yet.

	“HEY!” Rose said barging in on her brother.
	Jim-bob froze his under the cover action as well as displayed the “deer in the headlights” eye action.
	“Get outta here, Rose!” the boy shouted in a panicky voice.
	Rose smiled shaking her head and quickly made way to her brother yanking the covers back.  Sure enough—he was whackin’ johnny.
	“HA!” she beamed, “Caught you!”
	“So what!?” he bitched—he wasn’t so pissed that she had finally caught him in the act as she had caught him in the act…of cumming.  The feeling of ejaculation was right there so…fuck it, he didn’t stop and expelled a gracious amount of pre-teen jiz.
	“Goddamn, Jim-bob!” Rose blurted.  There was a lot of cum.  A lot!
	And surprisingly, Jim-bob had quite the little boner.  Rose was impressed.
	“Who were you thinking of?” Rose asked unable to keep her eyes off of her brother’s cock (and the oozing cum.)
	“Never mind,” bitched a bothered Jim-bob, “don’t worry about it.”
	And as the boy calmed down some from his jerking off—he didn’t cover himself and let his sister ogle him.
	Rose set back on the window sill—still ogling her brother’s cumming dick and for some reason, turned her head over her shoulder.  Over her shoulder and she could just see the neighbor girls, Molly and Charlotte, in their second-story bedroom.  Naked.
	“HA!” Rose chimed.
	Jim-bob got off his bed, shucked his pants and undies and went up to the window saying “the better view is from the attic.”
	Rose looked to him—“you little perv!”
	Jim-bob shrugged, “Yeah, and?”
	Up in the attic—Jim-bob still naked from the waist down, the “view” of the neighbor girls was indeed better.  They were indeed naked, Molly was fifteen, Rose’s age, with her sister, Charlotte, a couple of years older.
	As they watched the girls walk about their room—Jim-bob continued to hump his willie.  Then,
	“Holy shit!” blurted Rose.
	Looking and Jim-bob’s mouth dropped (and he also blurted “Holy shit!”
	Next door and the naked Molly was ON HER KNEES and obviously performing a blowjob on somebody.  The WHO somebody was just out of sight; curtains, dirty windows, and the angle not that optimum.  Rose and Jim-bob just couldn’t see who was “receiving” but there was only one possible—the girls’ dad, Ty.

	Pounding his meat and Jim-bob was fully focused.  Who it was that the naked Molly was sucking didn’t matter.  Rose was a little concerned—there was only one possibility and it sort of kind of sickened her—Molly’s dad!  It was unconscionable, inconceivable, unfuckingbelievable!  Then,
	If it weren’t for the dirty windows, curtains, and angle, the viewing would have been better.  But, Rose and Jim-bob were privileged to see Charlotte lay out on a bed, legs spread—butt bare ass naked.  Then, with Molly out of the way and standing nakedly at the foot of the bed, a belt—A BELT smacked Charlotte’s pussy.
	Rose and her brother were not mortified but they were stunned.
	“Whoa.” said Jim-bob.
	“Sonofabitch!” said Rose.
	One smack, vertical, two smacks, three!  Then—THEN it WAS Ty the girls’ father who stepped up butt bare naked himself and began jerking off aiming his pud to Charlotte’s cunt.
	Jim-bob hammered his own pud all the harder.
	“Jesus!” he whispered.
	Rose, checking her brother, noted he sported quite the hard hard-on.
	Pausing in her thinking (and watching the neighbors),
	“You shouldn’t waste that.” she said calmly.
	Jim-bob looked to her and suddenly realized what was going on; he was naked and jerking off!  Then Rose took over the “jerking off” part totally stunning the young man.  After a couple of minutes Rose slipped off her shirt and unhitched her bra, too.  Jim-bob’s eyes went right to his sister’s titties.  She was fifteen and had a nice pair of hooters.
	Fondling her brother’s balls (as well as his cock) Rose had her brother’s attention fully.  Checking the neighbors and there was Charlotte licking out Molly’s cunt while their dad smacked Charlotte’s ass—occasionally with the belt, his hand, and then his cock.
	Rose’s pussy was wet.  Wet from the neighbors’ doings or being naughty with her brother?  The boy was ready to cum.  Rose paused a moment then stood and shucked her kinda tight black jeans as well as her panties.  Her shirt was brown, short sleeved; her jeans were black, her panties were tinted black.  Her muffin was hairless and Jim-bob was putty.
	Laying down on a camping cot stowed in the attic Rose spread her legs, fingered her twat, and beckoned her dweeb brother “come get some”.  He was a virgin—save for his hand and bed.  The boy timidly crawled onto his naked willing sister; cum was already squirting!  Slowly he entered his sister’s quim and the business of “fucking” commenced.

	And what a fuck!
	It was Jim-bob’s first time and he savored it.  He rushed thru it and came quickly but he savored those few seconds.  It was not, however, Rose’s first time.  She wasn’t a slut but…
	Clutching her naked sweaty brother she humped back and reeled in getting laid—by her brother!  Up until then she had never conceived of such a notion.  Exposing themselves to one another was one thing; sexual talk and innuendos was one thing—but actually engaging incestuously was something else all together!
	It was disappointing that he had cum already.
	They heaved, sweated, and experienced a brother/sister relationship they didn’t think possible.  Jim-bob slowly rolled off of his sister and MORE cum spurted from his dick.  Rose finger banged her burning pussy trying to sate it—but it wouldn’t be sated and required another dicking.
	 
*

As far as dicks go…
	Cum again?
	Not long after beginning her incestuous affair with her own brother and Rose ended her affair with her boyfriend.  He was a good fuck, good looker, but had sports on his mind more than her.  Rose liked sports, too, but not all the time.  Watching the neighbors became a pastime—the girls’ father was never seen fucking them BUT he was seen BUTT fucking them.  There’s a difference.
	Watching the sex acts, the spankings, the oral, the cum blasts, all got Rose horny and ultra horny.  Sex with her brother was alright—he was horny, too.  There then came the day when…
	Rose didn’t want to be a “third wheel” but the girl was depressed and needed an outing.  The outing was with her best friend AND her weird boyfriend.  He was a stoner.  He was stoner who could quote Shakespearean quotes!  But other than that he’s responses to questions or situations was “whatever.”  Long hair, dirty blond, hazel “stoned” eyes, a big nose, moderate build, slow mover, big dick.
	Most fifteen year old boys had a nominal cock five to six inches.
	Paulie Voxstox had seven inches of dick that was also “meaty.”
	“And he knows how to use it, too!” giggled Rose’s best friend, Kim.
	The trio set off from their city dwelling to the countryside and then to a hill trail that wound its way up 3,000 ft.  Lots of trees, boulders, shrubs, more trees.  It was pristine, quiet, sublime.  At the 3,000 foot level the trail leveled out.  Rose wondered off to be with her thoughts—and to take a healthy pee.  When she returned to the small clearing she found Kim and Paulie “engaged.”
	Wedged between a split boulder with a pine tree in between as if the tree had split the rock, Paulie and Kim were seriously engaged in sex.  They were naked and not ashamed.  Of course, there was no one around to catch them—and they didn’t care, either.
	Kim was a noise maker; she was ultra thin, long-long reddish brown hair, long face, small tits, nice-nice ass.  She also had a voracious cunt that devoured cock.  Rose was captivated watching the two and they knew that she was watching.  Paulie somehow buried his cock ALL THE WAY into Kimmie’s small body.  It was amazing.  Then—just as the boy was to cum Kimmie maneuvered her body dislodging his cock and going to her knees where she firstly sucked him and then—THEN had him ejaculate onto her face!
	Kimmie seemed to like it!  She made yummy sounds and furiously jacked Paulie’s schlong expelling ALL of his milky ball juices.  The sperm splashed onto her face—all over her face AND mouth!  She sucked him, sucked his balls, clung to his very nice tan ass, and put the boy into such a stupor that he began quoting Shakespeare!
	(insert quotes of Shakespeare here:  Merchant of Venice, Romeo/Juliet, Hamlet, King Lear, etc.)
	Rose was embarrassed but also enthused.  She had sucked her brother’s cock and that was ok—he even came on her face.  That was ok, too.  Her boyfriend (former) had only cum in her pussy.  They had a good sexual relationship but it wasn’t wild and just a basic fuck.
	Kimmie winked to her friend beckoning her to “cum over.”
	Timidly and Rose did so but still kept some distance.
	Paulie wasn’t embarrassed, a little sheepish, but clearly not embarrassed.
	After  Paulie had expelled all the cum he had to offer he stumbled for his backpack fishing out a joint.  After lighting up he offered a hit to Rose.  Rose was no opposed and took a hit.  Kimmie wiped off her face and took the next hit.  Paulie pulled out of the pack a container containing booze—hard liquor.  The girls settled for beer and finished off the joint.  Paulie finished off his own joint and after a hit off another joint Rose was easily convinced into shucking her clothes and getting with the program.
	After smoking two joints, downing two beers, and taking two shot of Paulie’s “Wild Turkey”—Kimmie was well on her way to being stoned.  Rose was part way.  Paulie?  All the way.  Kimmie laid out on her clothes and pine needles, spread her legs and easily beckoned her beau to cum to her—more specifically cum ON her.  First, though, he stuck his big meaty beefstick into her cunny and fucked her.  Watching right by them and Rose frigged her cunny aching for her brother’s cock and/or boyfriend—or any boy that was handy.
	Paulie was handy.
	When at the appropriate moment of orgasm Paulie pulled out; his cock exploded its juices all over Kimmie’s hairless cunt.  Sitting back on his heels and the stoned Paulie giggled—and spouted more Shakespearean quotes.  And Rose—sure, she was slightly stoned and inebriated so not quite in her faculties.  She and Kimmie had skinny dipped together but never—never—never ever engaged immorally with one another.  They hadn’t kissed, they hadn’t ogled the other, they hadn’t showered together (except during gym class at school) and they most certainly had never-ever-ever licked out one another.
	Especially when one had splooge all over her cunt.
	Rose did.
	She was drawn to her friend’s cum laden cunt and lapped eagerly blowing Paulie’s mind.
	“Whoa!” he said.
	Kimmie was cool with it and bumped her pussy into Rose’s face.
	Paulie then took note of Rose’s ass.
	Fondle-fondle-fondle!
	Rose didn’t seem to mind—nor did she when the stoned Paulie slid his schlong into her crevice!  He did poke her bung hole—Rose wasn’t so much into that venture and slapped his dick to the other hole.
	“Whatever.” said Paulie and rammed his meat stick into her sex.

*

Manny Moe’s Very Terrible Bad Day
	The wine was good; the cheeseburger…the wine was good.  The day was good; clear skies, no birds, lots of activities in the city’s park, the hustle (and bustle) of the city in the backdrop, and the rigors of being “agents” for the Agency lingering.  Working for the Agency was fairly easy; do some assigned tasks, don’t make trouble, don’t get into trouble, don’t draw attention to yourself.  Other than that an agent had virtually carte blanche with the Agency’s credit cards, various rides, and other perks.
	It was a nice day to be in the park—until the local Scottish Bagpippers came along.
	Clavis, who was Irish (and German) by the way, look to the love of his life and she in turn gave him a look closing her eyes and sadly shaking her head.
	“Time to boogie.” Clavis said.
	Collecting their things the two sashayed out of the park and back to the city.
	Holding hands they made their way down the city street; it WAS a nice day (the noise of the bagpippers could be heard, though) but the noise of the city almost drowned them out.  Almost.
	Window shopping—it was a thing with Rose.  It was a thing with most women.  When Rose lingered too long at a window staring at something made of diamonds Clavis clenched her hand and she moved on.
	“How about dinner tonight?” Rose asked.
	Clavis was thinking something at home; the rigors of being an agent and babysitting Ozzie had taken its toll.  And as Clavis thought of how he would get Rose to go with his idea…
	“Hey, isn’t that Manny?” Rose said.
	Among the small throng of peoples bustling along the sidewalk, the tall buildings, a thorn in the Agents side mingled amongst them.  Manny Moe.  And he was hocking wares he kept hidden inside a long disheveled trench coat.
	Clavis and Rose paused; Clavis was now clenching Rose’s hand for a different reason.  Occasionally and did a various member of the Agency encounter Manny running the streets.  Usually and Manny was roughing up a senior citizen, grabbing a purse from a bus stop patron, stealing a pizza from a pizza delivery person, and so on.  Petty criminal.  Occasionally he had useful information from the street for the Agency but there were other ways to obtain said information.
	Clavis watched Manny then stepped closer as the petty thief made a deal.
	As Clavis neared the long haired Mexican/American wanna be thug looked up.  His brown eyes widened as he saw the menacing Agent.  He was a scruffy scrungy criminal (Manny) and after a moment of being frozen bolted.  Clavis gave chase with Rose darting down an alley.
	Being a street thug Manny Moe could run the streets; he knew the city and knew it better than any taxi driver!  Clavis and Rose knew the city, too.  Manny made his way thru the throngs of peoples pushing many of them out of his way, knocking over of street vendor’s cart and bolting for his life.
	Then Rose stepped out of an alley stopping the fleeing man temporarily halting him—just long enough for Clavis to catch up to him grabbing him by the collar.
	“Going somewhere, Manny?” Clavis said shoving Manny up to the wall of a building.
	Manny mumbled something; Clavis shoved his knee into Manny’s ass then began “fondling” the man all over—seeking out whatever the punky man had hidden.
	A knife, a nice knife, some collector’s coins, a nice-nice candlestick, another knife, a bible, some more collector coins, and some keys.
	The keys were to various buildings, side door entrances from alleyways.
	The first knife was a simple expensive display knife.

	The second knife—large wooden handle that was slightly curved with a thick locking blade.  There was an inscription:
May love and laughter light your days,
And warm your heart and home.
May good and faithful friends be yours,
Wherever you may roam.
May peace and plenty bless your world
With joy that long endures.
May all life’s passing seasons
bring the best to you and yours.

	It was written in Irish (Gaelic)
	It was very poignant and sentimental to Clavis; a gift from Rose.
	And scumbag Manny Moe had stolen it out of Clavis Jag; along with a bible and a handful of collector’s coins.  Always in the back of Clavis’ mind he had thought and wondered—Manny?  He had always thought that Manny would have since enough to know not to steal from Clavis.
	Guess not.
	Clavis was too pissed to talk.
	Rose had ducked into the alley she had just come out of;
	“In here.” she said.
	Roughly and did Clavis thrust Manny into the alley and to a side door to a storeroom of furniture business.  Thru a small maze of not-on-the floor merchandise to an office where Manny was slung/flung into a wooden office chair.  When Manny tried to get up—a .45 was stuck in his face.
	“I’m very disappointed in you, Manny.”
	Manny said nothing.
	Rose got some rope securing Manny to the chair.
	Clavis read the inscription to himself, then aloud for Manny to hear—Manny didn’t speak or read Gaelic.
	“He hates thieves and liars.” whispered Rose.
	Manny slowly put his eyes to Clavis MaHonney—the Devil Himself stared back!  Manny peed himself.
	Rose stepped back to the door checking for wandering warehouse personnel.
	“All clear.” she said.
	Clavis held the knife in his hand—the dull light of the seldom used office glistened off the pristine blade.
	“Very disappointed.” Clavis said and plunged the blade into Manny’s hand.

	Rose had secured Manny to the chair well; he was unable to move.
	Manny’s eyes bulged and he was unable to speak.
	“Very…disappointed.” Clavis pulled the blade out and plunged it into Manny’s knee.  Manny Moe knew his shit was shit.  He burbled something unintelligible, a mix of Spanish and something else.  Clavis plunged the very nice (and expensive) blade into Manny’s other hand—then his other knee.
	“If you had a need for something,” glared Clavis, “you could have come to me and I would have helped you.” pause for dramatic effect “But instead, you decided to steal from me.” another pause “That pisses me off.” and the bloodied blade with the Irish inscription plunged into Manny’s chest.
	“Very disappointed.”

	“Golden Dragon’s Hind Inn?”
	She rolled her eyes sideways at him.  That would be a “No.”
	“Devil and Goat?”
	“Wandering Eye?”
	“Tru’s?”
	“The Septic Carmichael?”
	The choices were many; the girl was choosey.
	“How about Zorbas?” he knew she liked Zorbas; there the cuisine was Greek, Mediterranean, AND Irish fare!  Also, the wait staff (guys) wore skimpy attire.
	Rose’s eyes lit up and she had a little more bounce to her gait.  Squeezing Clavis’ hand told him he had found the right place.  

After dinner deserts…
	“St. Paul and the Dragon?”
	She rolled her eyes.  That would be a “No.”
	“Lady Luck and the Seven Unluckies?”
	No comment.
	“The Command That Wasn’t?  The Story of the 103 Brigade at Krullmungen?”
	Silence.
	“Plan Nine Point Two from Somewhere Out in Space?”
	Silence.
	“A Girl, A Boy, and a Bookstore.” He didn’t have to ask; his girl clutched his hand.  Clavis had learned—and still was in training—to enjoy his mate’s presence.  To care for her, to show her attention, to be aware of her presence.  It was more to the relationship than affection.  Much more.  
	Appreciation went a long way in their relationship; relationships aren’t about having another person complete you, but coming to the relationship whole and sharing your life interdependently.  By letting go of the romantic ideal of merging and becoming “one,” you learn to love the distances in relationship as much as the togetherness.
	Clavis adored Rose; he knew how to impress and wow her:  cuddle her, appreciate her, swoon her, wine and dine, comfort and protect her, spend lots of money on her, listen to her was most important.
	And how did Rose impress her man with their relationship?
	Show up naked, bring beer.  Simple.
	And after the movie…
	It was midnight; the air was cool, the city not as noisy, and a small crowd of moviegoers lingered and mingled outside the theatre.  Most the shops that banked the movieplex were closed save for the eateries; the ice cream and pizza shop were in full operation.  
	Zorba’s had been a wonderful (expensive) dinner; a good choice according to Rose.  At Zorba’s there were colored menus depending on patron’s price affordability or whatever he/she was willing to shell out for food and ambience.  The Yellow Menu was the cheapest at $95 per plate, desert not included and was matched to the menu color code--$20 per person.  The Green Menu was $125 per plate with desert at $25; Blue Menu prices began at $140 for steak fare and $150 for the seafood fare.  The optimum pricey Red Menu began at $175 per plate for the steak fare and $195 for the seafood stuff (and $50 for the deserts!)
	The Agency the agents worked for paid well so Clavis popped for the Red Menu.  He didn’t do it often so it was deeply appreciated by his love.  At the theatre there was popcorn, some gooey candy, and soda.  After the movie there was ice cream.
	“Going to take a week in the gym to work this night off!” quipped Clavis.
	“Or a night in bed…” giggled/blushed Rose.
	“With chains and whips!”
	Rose rolled her eyes conveying “how droll”; but the shine in her eyes suggested otherwise!
	“Arent they out late?” Clavis said dipping his spoon into his banana float.
	“Not a school night,” Rose said giving the Subjects the eye.
	“Still, it’s late.” a parental concern cropped up within Clavis.
	“Movie just let out,” said Rose, “their parents are around somewhere.”
	“Somewhere.”

	The Subjects, three girls about eleven, and a boy, also about eleven, had their attention buried into their handheld phones playing a mutual game.  They were not paying attention to who was around them; they had ear buds and totally-totally oblivious to their surroundings.

Such pretty brains!
	“Beta…good.”
	“Alpha…good.”
	“Theta…good.”
	“Delta…also good.”
	One by one—by one—by one—by one…the brain wave patterns of the Subjects were “acquired.”
	Subject One:  Megan Dimple, eleven years; shoulder length bouncy blondish hair, blue eyes, short wrap-around turquoise skirt, one pink ankle sock, one purple ankle sock.  A little lumpy, long face, solid “B” student.  She liked ice hockey and played soccer, basketball, and volleyball.  She was a virgin but was curious about sex.  She had heard about “blowjobs” and “anal”, up the ass, scissor fucking, fucking, and sixty-nine.  Blowjobs she kind of had a clue about as well as anal aka. “up the ass.”  What “scissoring” and sixty-nine were about she did not know.
	Subject Two:  Dannelle Clammy; also eleven.  She wore short-short jeans short, rolled up at the hem, too.  A pair of green socks adorned her feet and half way up her calf.  She was a little “lumpier” than her friend Megan (but not by much.)  Long very curly brown hair; she had green dainty earrings, some finger rings, no tats, and like the previous Subject was curious about sex but was fairly certain that she didn’t want to engage in such.  Not yet.
	Lyndsy Nohand was the next Subject.  Short bright blue britches to the knees; one pink shoe, one green shoe with opposite colored socks.  Very tan skin, a sleeveless plain blouse, very concentrated in her gaming, an occasionally “A” on her report card but usually “Bs”.
	The boy of the group was deeply immersed in his gaming, not too much into sports OR girls!  They were his friends and though he had seen them and other girls in swimsuits he wasn’t all that interested—not sexually.  Not yet.  He was curious, he was normal; but there were other things to involve his mind other than sex.  … … ok, not so normal.
	Megan had very tan legs, as did Dannelle and Lyndsy.  Megan was the tallest of them all while the lone boy, Norman, was the shortest!  Megan had turquoise colored panties; Dannelle had bright pink undies while Lyndsy…Lyndsy had none!  Commando!  Norman had normal basic undies.

	A lot of fooling around with the EMAD to enable just the right awareness level.
	“You ok?” Rose asked seeing her life mate not looking so good.
	“Headache.” he replied.  Nosebleed, blurred vision, ear ring, dizziness; common associative factors when operating an Electronic Mind Altering Device.
	Clavis’ ’49 Mercury was his primary vehicle; custom paint, custom interior, custom engine.  It was fine for riding around in and even transporting “cargo” from the Agency house to the Warehouse downtown.  But for extracurricular activities a more appropriate vehicle was required.
	Agent Chuckles brought said vehicle—and a message.
	“O-boy is on the move again.”
	This time, Clavis rolled HIS eyes.
	Rose sighed, she wasn’t in the mood for re-dealing with Ozzie.
	“Are we the Chosen Ones again?”
	“Right now and Hiro and Nikkie are monitoring him.”
	“Where is he?” Rose asked.
	“Frisco area.”
	“Keep us informed.”
	“One more thing,” Chuckles said before taking command of the ’49, “this is from the top (Venger) when O-boy DOES come back to our territory…” he didn’t finish—he didn’t need to.  It was an unsaid contract—O-boy (Ozzie) was on the Short List of Life.
	Rose settled the cargo; Clavis brooded.
	“He’s going to be trouble.”
	“Not for long.”
	“He had potential.”
	“Had.”

Dastardly deeds done dirt cheap
	The things you do for a friend
	Frisco City; the Bay of Lights by the Sea
	Evening type time and friends Stephan and Shaun were in the makes of preparing their evening meal in their 5th floor apartment overlooking the busy street of the city with the “sea” in the backdrop when…
	TAP! TAP! TAP!  BUZZ BUZZ
	Someone at the door!
	The two young men looked surprised; it was Thursday and they weren’t expecting anyone.  Stephan shrugged and made his way to the door.
	A man was at the door, clad in a dark suit.
	He flashed a badge:  FBI.
	Shit.
	Shit—shit—shit.
	“Adam Smith, FBI,” said the Suit, “I’d like to talk to you about your father.”
	Shit-shit-shit-shit-shit.
	Stephan bowed his head, ‘What now!?’
	Unlocking the door and opening it Stephan already felt ill.
	“Is he out?” Stephan asked.
	The Suit/Fed shook his head saying, “No.” He wore dark sunglasses, wasn’t too tall, slim build, and smelled a little of alcohol.
	The Suit/Fed noted the other occupant of the apartment; he was holding a handful of spaghetti ready for the pot on the stove.
	What transpired thereafter…hedious.
	The small entryway had an ornate oddly designed clock.
	It was ten minutes after seven (pm).
	‘take off your clothes.’
	Stephan blinked his eyes and got a terrible headache.  The Suit/Fed had a nosebleed.  Shaun standing not too far away crunched the spaghetti as he watched his mate strip off his clothes.
	‘you, too, faggot, get naked!’
	Shaun resisted but then a horrible headache thrashed him.  Taking off his clothes and the headache subsided.
	“Your sister sends her love,” grinned slightly the Suit/Fed aka Ozzie, “and also me.”
	Stephan was a little confused… … no, a LOT confused.
	The apartment was high-end; very good furniture, paintings on the walls, good clothes (on the floor) and in the high end district of the city where a small population of gay and lesbians resided.  Stephan was a sociologist and had only recently graduated from the nearby university with said degree.  His mate worked in a high end establishment of retail.
	Both men were in their early twenties.
	“My-my sister sent you?” inquired Stephan.
	“Yeah, she’s concerned about your lifestyle.”
	This confused Stephan as his sister long since knew about her brother being gay and his said lifestyle.  Then,
	“Wh-what about my dad?”
	“He’s concerned about you being a faggot, too.”
	“Are-are you really FBI?” asked Shaun.
	“Naw,” chortled Ozzie, “I’m just effin’ with you!” and he produced a weapon not to be effed with—a 9mm Glock.
	“Fuck!” breathed Shaun.
	“Funny you should say that.” said Ozzie.  He pointed the sleek black weapon to Stephan, “Lay down.”
	All eyes (save for Ozzie’s) were on the deadly and menacing weapon.
	Stephan laid down on the floor.  Ozzie directed the weapon to Shaun, 
	“Lay on him, put his dick in your mouth.” That meant “69.”
	Nervously and Shaun positioned himself on his friend.
	Stephan began to weep—he was a crier; a weak mind, a sensitive crybaby.
	Once Shaun had Stephan’s cock in his mouth AND began to suck, Stephan also began to suckle on Shaun’s schlong—something that they did anyways and did often.  Stephan’s hands clutched his Shaun’s ass; both men were fairly well tan.  Stephan had long kinky brown hair and had a face of pock marks from a bad teenage acne attack.  Shaun was clean-cut, well-kept hair of black, lean build, and a nice cock that was an inch more than normal.
	Ozzie watched the two men go at each other gobbling the other’s schlong.
	After a few minutes and Ozzie the Terrible inserted the barrel of the 9mm Glock into the asshole of Shaun—and pulled the trigger three times.  Beneath Shaun and Stephan was freaking the fuck out.  He was screaming, crying, and flailing his arms and legs about.  His antics seemed to amuse Ozzie; he giggled!  Then he scooted around on his knees to the opposite end where he positioned Stephan’s legs up under the passed on Shaun’s armpits.  Ozzie then inserted the barrel of the 9mm Glock into Stephan’s puckering clenching asshole—and pulled the trigger three times.
	The sound of the bullet(s) escaping the barrel were “silenced” by the asshole.  There was a “party” on the rooftop four floors up, a party on a deck one floor below, a party of some kind out on the street below.  All the partyers were using those “pop” noisemakers most used at New Years.
	Not a Fed/Suit Ozzie sat on his haunches watching the men.
	After wiping the barrel of the gun off on Shaun’s ass he sat in the small kitchen; he turned off the fire under the boiling pot of water, picked up the spilled crunched spaghetti and dropped said spaghetti into the pot.  In the fridge he found excellent beer.  On the counter was a bottle of wine—also excellent.
	A cellphone from Stephan’s pants went off.
	Ozzie found that a homemade spaghetti sauce was in the make; he finished making it; had a beer, poured the wine, drained the spaghetti, and had dinner.

Portia
	Tap! Tap! Tap!  Buzz!
	9PM, who could come calling at that time?
	Cautiously and Portia Lundscum peeked into the security peep sight seeing a tall man in a dark suit.  He flashed a badge—FBI.
	Opening the door until the security chain went taunt.
	“Yes?”
	“Are you Portia Elditon?”
	“Uh, family name, I’m married now.”
	“I have some news about your father.”
	“Oh shit.” she breathed.
	Pursing her lips she let the man in.
	“What’s the news?” she asked shutting the door and bracing herself.
	“Are you alone?” the man asked, “Your husband home?”
	“He’s at work, he works at City hospital.”
	The FBI man nodded and stood facing the young adult.
	“Your father at Wynlock Men’s Colony has been killed.”
	The color in Portia’s face went away.
	“Oh shit.” she breathed again.
	“You sent him there.” said the man in the Fed suit.
	“He was molesting me.” she said almost breaking down into tears.
	“Wished he had of said something to me about it,” pause “I would have liked to help.”
	What?
	Portia stared at the man.  “W-what?”
	“He never shared with me what he was doing; thought we were friends.”
	Portia felt a sudden rush of “I shouldn’t have let you in.” too late!
	A terrible-horrible-sickening feeling suddenly rushed over the young recently graduated college student.  She tried to back up; tried to find her phone; tried to think straight but to no avail.  Her feet seemed to be suddenly locked into place and her breathing was labored.
	“W-who are you?”
	The man smiled, “I know, I know,” he said, “it’s been a few years.”
	Removing the dark glasses and peeling off some sticky face paint, extra putty on the nose, and even the ears, plus the dark wig he revealed his true identity.  But it HAD been a few years and age had doctored Ozzie’s appearance.  But all the clues were there and Portia grasped herself.
	“Oz-Ozzie?”
	Oz-Ozzie made a goofy sound resembling “bingo” and shot her with his fingers.  He giggled and watched as the girl before him panicked.  Too late.
	Portia’s dad, Ozzie’s friend, was indeed dead—knifed (shanked) while doing a 16yr stint in prison for molesting Portia.  A lot.  Since she was about 5 years young he had been “fooling” with her; fingerings, extra innings in the bathtub, coaxing her to play with his dick, licking her out, extracurricular spankings, and good ole sodomy!
	Finally, at thirteen years young she ratted him out.
	Cops came and took him (and his computers loaded with porn) away.
	The one thing he did for Portia was no trial—he confessed and was sentenced to sixteen years.  Ozzie had been a family friend for about a year; they had gone camping together, hiking, to the beach, and so on.  Ozzie never knew about in-house goings on.  Kinda miffed him but he thought that Mason was on the brink of bringing him in on the extra activities.
	A little sleight of hand misdirecting Portia’s attention and she didn’t see Ozzie whip out his EMAD.  She was “stunned” but only to the degree of holding her firm.  She tried to scream; Ozzie was having none of that.  Rushing the frightened 23yr old he wrestled her to the floor.  Ever since Mason had been shipped off had Ozzie kept tabs on the family—he knew that Portia and her brother had been taken in by their mother’s family.  It was Portia’s aunt (mother’s side) she had finally tattled about what was going on.
	Her brother!
	Portia fought back as much as she could even knocking the EMAD away.
	Too late.
	The narly abilities of the mind altering module had already affected her abilities to fight.  She still tried and was semi successful.  Semi.  She was a trim girl, worked out a little, married a little over a year, was a chemical biologist in training but was leaning towards going into the veterinarian field, or psychology.
	Anyways, Ozzie wrestled with her pinning her on the floor.  In his eyes—pure evil glared outward.  She had lovely dark hair, super curly, super long, super silky.  When he had known her years earlier she had always fussed with making her hair “just right.”
	He never even got to see her in a bathing suit!
	In the bathroom he found Portia’s husband’s hair trimming set.
	He shaved Portia’s hair off.
	Then, roughly ripped her clothes on.
	Portia still amazingly had fight in her and thrashed about making it not so easy for him—so he took off his belt and thrashed her!  Thankfully and the walls of the first floor apartment were thick—Portia managed to yell out her pains as the reign of strikes from the belt assaulted her.
	Unable to take more blows the girl curled up on the floor trembling.
	Ozzie then was able to complete the deed of ripping off her clothing.  A simple white shirt.  There was no bra!  She was at home  and just didn’t wear one while at home.  Tight jeans she wore; Ozzie got kicked square in the nuts while pulling those off.  The first kick wasn’t bad and was tolerable.  The second kick put him on the floor.  

	Had Portia not been so beaten with the belt she would have had more strength to incapacitate the family friend and then maybe get away from him.  But like Ozzie all she could do was lay on the floor by the toilet trembling.
	The pain to his balls was intense and did so incapacitate Ozzie for several minutes.  Then he went for pulling off Portia’s pinkish panties.
	“NOOOOO!” she screamed.  She knew Ozzie was going to rape her.
	Ozzie smacked her thigh then yanked her legs upwards having her shoulders then on the white tiled floor.  He then strongly “bounced” her whereupon her bald head clunked the floor.
	That hurt and pretty much took the fight out of her.
	The pinkish panties came off and there she was—nude.
	Ozzie, however, would have likened to see her “nude” when he knew her way back when—when she was twelve, thirteen.  Or even younger!
	“Did you suck your dad’s dick?” he asked kind of angrily.
	“FUCK YOU!” she shouted back.
	Ozzie bounced her freshly shaven head on the floor again,
	“Wrong answer!”
	Then he noted her furry cunt.  It was trim but could use a bit of attention.
	When the buzz of the electric hair trimmer came on again Portia freaked out.  Her world was pretty fucked up by then, though; her head severally in pain—and bleeding.  Ozzie back in her world.  Her dad reportedly dead—she despised him and hated his guts for what he had done to her but she didn’t want him dead.
	Ozzie shaved Portia’s cunt—then fucked it.
	Portia freaked out but was powerless; Ozzie was much more powerful than she was and he hadn’t had his head bounced onto the bathroom floor!  Portia grunted as she was fucked; Ozzie fondled her breasts and stared deeply into her glazed over eyes.  She began to babble and twitch.  Possible head concussion.
	When the time came to cum—Ozzie pulled out and shot his load onto the hapless Portia’s face.  She was pretty far gone by then.  Rolling her over and Ozzie assaulted her asshole; finger first, then dick, then Glock.
	And like with Portia’s brother, six inches of the 9mm was inserted into the woman’s hole.  The stench of death permeated the bathroom; mixed with sex sweat and fecal matter.  Ozzie sat back on his ass watching the young woman.  He liked her; in the beginning when he had first come into the family he had taken a shine to her—and she had liked him, too!  Never-ever, though, got to see her in anything less than daily attire—not even a swim suit!
	The stench though overpowering didn’t phase Ozzie.  The sound of the bullets escaping from the barrel of the Glock were silenced by Portia’s shitter.  Ozzie had learned, also, that a 2-liter bottle also works as an excellent “silencer.”  (so does an oil filter!)
	For whatever reason he turned Portia over and inserted the shitty barrel of the 9mm into her pussy—and pulled the trigger two times (just to make sure.)  His thoughts?  None.  Vacant.  Non-existent.  He only wished that her father was there; he missed him.  He was cool to hang with; they shared the same likes (young girls, “flat chested” was Mason’s likes and “hairless” was Ozzie’s.

Unauthorized Acquisitions
	Why?  There was no “why?” in Ozzie’s world.  There was “just because.”
	His mind he felt was no longer his own; it was a mess.  A jumble of thoughts and images thrown together in a mixer.  Nothing made sense.  Had what happened happened?  Had he been sodomized by an alien?  Where there such things as alien-slugs?  Would Gilligan ever get off that damn island?
	For a long while he sat caressing the young girl in the backseat of his new ride.  She was about eight years young; long silky brown hair with colorful ribbons in strategic places.  She was flat chested—a requirement for Mason; Ozzie lingered a moment before determining if she met his own requirement.
	She did!
	Shortly after “acquiring” the gun-metal grey 4-wheel drive domestic muscle truck with a matte finish, big-big fucking off-road “fuck your Prius” tires, Ozzie sighted in on the pretty girl.  She, and her family, were at an out of the way mining town some miles from the desert highway.  The mining town was still in operation mining gold from a nearby cave but it wasn’t that what brought the tourist; the mining town had a small-small-small population but the tourist came in small droves to scour the barns for “good deals” on Old West memorabilia.
	Ozzie was just getting used to his new ride and had gone off-road for a bit coming in the backway to the mining town, Riddlesburg.  It was hot in the desert and he had no snacks or drinks onboard the truck with him.  A cold drink, a frosty milk shake, some chili fries, and “scenery” was just the thing.
	The exactness of how he “acquired” the eight year old was a bit foggy.
	Also time.  The “next thing he knew” was being in the backseat of the mega 4-by undressing the eight year old; outside and it was dark…damn dark.  Where exactly he was he had no idea.  He didn’t remember acquiring the little girl, Jenny; he didn’t remember driving away or anything.
	Off came the light blue shirt revealing that the girl was indeed “flat chested.”
	Ozzie chuckled saying “there ya go!”
	Slowly he pulled down the girls short jeans.  She fussed and Ozzie smacked her leg “settle down!” he barked.  Jenny’s pink shoes were pulled off and then tossed out the window—along with her jeans and shirt followed by her basic white panties.

	A nice smooth cunt greeted Ozzie.  His glazed over eyes feasted on the young girl’s cookie.
	“You wanna go first?” Ozzie asked of his friend.
	Mason shrugged, “Nah, go for it.”
	Ozzie first “went down” on the girl devouring her young pussy with great delight.  Shoving a tongue into her cunny he equally shoved a finger into her bung hole.  The girl squirmed; Mason slapped her face—first with his hand and then his dick!  Ozzie devoured the young girl’s cunny then moved up slapping her cunny with his cock.
	Mason sat on his knees masturbating as he ogled the girl.  Ozzie eyed his friend’s one-eyed monster.  He giggled, blushed, then slid his cock into Jenny’s virginity.  The girl gushed and made several gasps as she was invaded.  As Ozzie entered the girl and got busy with the fucking—Mason’s cock was right there—RIGHT THERE!
	Mason waggled his cock and as the fucking commenced—Ozzie took his friend’s cock into his mouth and suck-suck-sucked it.  Seemed the thing to do.  Jenny thrashed about acting up and trying to fend off the assault.  Her actions only seemed to enthuse her attacker.  Ozzie buried his cock into her cunny as Mason buried his cock into Ozzie’s mouth.
	A great gusher of cum exploded into Jenny’s cunny.  Ozzie made some noise of his own and wasn’t sure if Mason had cum in his mouth or not.  Pulling out and there was a bit o’ blood to deal with.  The cloth seat beneath the girl was soiled.  Surprisingly and the girl still had some fight in her and she fussed lasing out at Ozzie.  Ozzie wrestled with her grabbing her ankles yanking them upward.  Then he swatted her bare ass.
	“That’s it!” chortled Mason.
	Ozzie turned the child over positioning on the seat whereas his friend could have a go at her himself.  Pinning her arms behind her, spanking her ass, Ozzie delighted in watching his friend slid his freshly slobbered on cock into the girl’s asshole.

	Time?  Time was meaningless.  Ozzie cared not for time and time cared not for Ozzie.  They had a mutual understanding.  Time was illusion.  Ozzie was delusion(al).  After his time with Jenny he moved on to acquire a woman and an eleven year old boy.
	They were not related; the woman was 28yrs young and—AND a news station reporter!  She was working on a story in a desert town and…
	The eleven year old boy was a “chunky” boy who had just outrun some bullies.  Actually he had ditched them, outwitted and overcome his battles.  For his reward he got himself a pizza and a drink and was content with that.
	Sam “Chunk” Maylone, eleven, was naked.  He had super curly blond hair, super non-curly blue eyes, twenty pound overweight.  But he was happy; especially when eating—or farting.  He was happy and content and usually could easily outwit and outmaneuver his bullies.
	Mattie Jayhan was bewildered to say the least; one minute she was standing outside the desert town convenience store where night manager was recently arrested for possessing and distributing child porn.  The news van from her TV station was late.  She had arrived early with her producer.  The producer had just left to go check on the status of the van.
	That was the last thing she remembered.
	All her clothes were gone; tossed out the window.  She lay on a seat of a vehicle; a big truck she deduced.  A man was there—talking to himself.  He was naked.  When Mattie tried to move and fend off the naked man a piercing blinding light blasted her mind.
	Plus she was slapped in the face and her bare naked breasts were pinched.
	“She’s feisty!” chortled the naked man.
	“She just needs a good fuckin’!” chortled back his friend.
	Ozzie glided his cock up and down the woman’s cunt; no, she wasn’t flat chested or hairless but she was opportunity and that was ok, too.  Mattie continued to fuss—and continued to get her breasts pinched, face slapped, and finally—dicked!
	The naked eleven year old boy got his dick sucked!
	“Suck his dick!” said Ozzie forcefully as he pounded the woman’s cunt.
	There was no way—no way.
	Way!
	Other than the flashing blind light piercing her brain, titty pinch, face slapping, there was some overpower/overwhelming force prompting her to take into her mouth the young boy’s cock.  Chunk giggled; he was mesmerized.  Ozzie fucked the young woman into oblivion then like with Jenny, rolled the bedraggled woman over, parted her cheeks and invited his friend to take her.

He’s dastardly, just dastardly
	“Country music? Really?”
	Clavis shrugged, music was music to him.  If it had a good beat, a rhythm, words he could understand, then it was good music.  He even liked some rap!  The music was background music for the doing of dastardly deeds.  His concentration was off a little, though—Ozzie.  Still, though,
	Eleven year old Megan, bouncy blond shoulder length hair, very nice blue eyes, had Clavis’ attention.  She was cute; he adored her on several levels.  She was cute—especially naked!
	Clavis was not unlike other Agents (or men in general); a young naked girl got him hard and his unnatural desires for fucking increased dramatically.  Only a few naked girls did Clavis engage in sexually; young girls he enjoyed fondling, finger, spanking, and having them slurp on his cock.  He saved actual fucking a girl for those who were teenage aged.
	With Megan and Clavis gouged her young cunny with his slobbered on cock but didn’t poke.  Lifting her legs up he swatted her little ass shoving a finger into her virgin hole.  The naked Rose was there was a life-like cock dildo to make the full insertion.  She also spanked the girl when she fussed too much.
	The lone boy of the group, Norman Chin, was fraught with many emotions.
	The “awareness” level fucked with him; he was “aware” of the situation he and his friends were in but he wasn’t able to do anything about it.  After being kidnapped he stood in the back of some kind of van and it was Megan and Dannelle who stripped off his clothes—after they had stripped off their own clothing, plus the other member of the team, Lyndsy.  When the girls tugged down his underwear—there it was…boner.
	Megan sucked his cock while Dannelle suckled his balls.  Lyndsy lay on the floor of the van, legs open, fingering her sex.  She was upset as were Megan and Dannelle.
	After sucking Norman Megan sucked Clavis then laid out beside Lyndsy.  It could be seen that Lyndsy was about gone.  Rose settled beside her and after sodomizing Megan with the dildo inserted another life-like dick into Lyndsy’s cunt.  Clavis dragged his life-like dick up and down and all around Megan’s cunt; part of his mind was on the deed at hand—and to do even more.  The other part of his mind—Ozzie.
	
Out of service
	Could have been the heat.
	Could have been the drugs.
	Could have been the booze.
	Could have been the alien butt fucking—but Michael Ozzie Pundsum was on a spree.  His mind was out of service.  Out of the desert he wandered aimlessly, mindlessly.  His newly acquired ride was…somewhere; disabled, stuck, broken.  From out of the low desert he wandered up into the high desert.  A little delirious he came upon a desert cabin nestled in amongst some pines.  It was vacation home for a prominent doctor in the nearby desert city—and the doctor was in.
	The doctor was kind and offered aid to the desert scrounger; water, food, and medical aid.  Ozzie accepted but his wandering eye to the doctor’s teenage daughter annoyed the doctor and he was asked to leave.
	Ozzie took offense and became abrasive.
	Then deadly.
	Being located in the desert there were hazards other than the heat of the day and cold of the night; namely—snakes!  So, as most folk who took up residence in the desert area there usually was a handy-dandy gun of some type.  A rifle and/or a shotgun usually did the trick in dispersing snakes and other pesky vermin and/or wildlife.
	When it was clear that the scroungy intruder was going to be a problem, Dr. Orell Oritz went for the .30-06 by the door.  Although burned by the summer’s sun and a trek thru the desert, Ozzie Pundsum was quick and made a play for the weapon himself.  Both men wrestled with the weapon ending with a terrific blast.
	Fifteen year old daughter of the goodly doctor, Nellie, let out a horrific scream as her father fell to the floor gasping for breath—and then none left to gasp.  The doctor’s son, Ned, stood in absolute shock.  He peed himself, too.  The doctor’s good wife, Donna, was also stunned.
	Crazed Ozzie leveled the smoking shotgun at the stunned family.
	“Take off your clothes.” he told them.
	“Oh my God!” sputtered Nellie.
	The boy peed himself some more.
	The crazed eyes of the intruder suggested to the family that they might oughtin’ to comply.  The mother, Donna, forty-two, slipped off her light blue short sleeved shirt.  The crazed intruder leveled the .30-06 to the fifteen year old girl.  She was having a fit, clenching her fists and face.
	“Just do it, Nellie, it’ll be alright.” cooed the mother beside her.
	But it wasn’t going to be “alright.”  Not by a longshot.
	Down came Donna’s basic white full brief panties.  She was a tall woman, six foot plus one inch; slim build, very nice face, hair up in a bun with loose strands all over; dusty brown hair—which was odd ‘cause her son had dark hair and the girl had blond!  Oh well…
	Nellie took a long time stripping off her shirt.  Her mother and brother were already naked!  The boy’s eyes were leveled on the leveled gun pointed at him.  Occasionally he looked to his father sprawled out on the cabin floor.  He was dead-dead-dead.
	At length and Nellie finally slid her light pink French-cut panties down.  She had a nice set of titties.  The naked Donna had a nice set, too!  A shapely body both had and despite being fortyish, Donna Ortiz had a nice form.  Her pussy was trim with a tat of a flower on one side, upper area, and a rainbow with a naked nymph on the other.  A colorful butterfly tat was adorned to one titty usually concealed by clothing and/or bra; a rearing snorting black stallion WITH a prominent hard cock was on the other titty.
	Nellie had no tattoos.
	“Ever suck his dick?” Ozzie (the Crazed) asked.
	Nellie lost her breath; the question was incredulous as all get out.
	“I wont fuckin’ ask you again!” said Ozzie raising his voice.
	“A-a couple of times, yes!” she said trembling.
	Ozzie giggled, “Good!  Suck him again!”
	The teenager’s eyes bulged.  There was no way—no way that she was going to suck her brother’s dick—not with their mother present.
	Yes way!
	Ozzie pulled the trigger on the weapon blasting some pottery behind the startled and stunned and shocked family.
	The girl wailed, screamed, and generally freaked out.
	The boy made a sudden daring lunge.  Very bold.  Very knightly.
	Very stupid.
	As the thirteen year old made the dash to wrestle the weapon and the crazed man he was smacked in the jaw by the butt of the weapon.  Nellie screamed again; Donna felt faint—but at the last minute rushed to the fireplace grabbing another shotgun.  Cocking it she tried to take a shot but her bold son was in the way.
	Ozzie pulled the trigger on the .30-06 but there was only a click.  The shotgun had already dispensed its chamber shot.  No matter, Ozzie bashed the butt of the gun into the boy’s head sending him to the floor; the shotgun flung around distracting Donna.  Ozzie then tipped the family table up where the items on the table hit the naked woman sending her gun shot into the ceiling.
	At that moment and Ozzie the Crazed didn’t care if he died or not.  His neck muscles tightened as much as the grip of Death.  He smiled and Donna knew the man behind those eyes was insane.  Grappling with the deer rifle and the two wrestled a moment with the barrel of the gun coming up under the woman’s chin.
	Nellie freaked the fuck out screaming.
	Donna’s fingers were tight at the trigger mechanism.
	For a long-long moment the two adults stared into the other’s eyes.
	More long moments before Donna released her grip.
	Ozzie stepped back taking the rifle with him.
	On the floor and thirteen year old Ned languished; the butt of the shotgun had loosened some teeth as well as damage to his jaw.
	“Stand the fuck up.” Ozzie told him.
	Easier said than done; the boy flung his hands about trying to find something to grab hold of to pull himself up.  His sister finally had to help; nervously she looked to the crazed intruder if it was ok.
	He made no indication one way or another.
	Ned was helped up; he was dazed and then some and in need of medical attention.  None would come.
	“Suck his dick.” Ozzie said calmly.
	Nellie’s eyes were on the rifle and the intruder.  Slowly, though, she moved to her wavering brother.  He was a wiry fellow with a normal “fellow.”  Like his mom, he was tall—at thirteen he was already 5’7”!  A thick mop of dark hair adorned his head, he had numerous scars from roaming the desert.
	As Nellie performed orally upon her brother,
	“Have you fucked her?” Ozzie asked.
	Ned was horrified and couldn’t answer.  His cock was half enthused about being sucked; the horrific circumstances understandable.  Still, though, Nellie managed to get her brother’s cock to a substantial hardness—after several intense moments of sucking.
	Ozzie dropped his jeans—they were soiled by his trek thru the desert and his body in need of a bathing.
	“Suck me.” 
	It looked as if though the mother was going to hurl.
	Ned looked as if though he were going to pass out.
	Nellie pursed her lips, wept, and took the man’s cock into her mouth.
	It was a little gamey and very muchly in the need of a wash.
	Nellie retched and very nearly vomited.
	When Ozzie was hard he pulled out and fucked the hapless girl’s face having her suckle his ball sac, too.  Afterwards,
	The table was righted and the mother was told to get on it.
	Try-try-try as he might and Ned couldn’t keep his eyes off of his mother’s nakedness.  Ozzie’s crazed insane eyes fell upon the boy; the boy felt the gaze of the crazed intruder.
	“Kiss her pussy.”
	Ned very nearly passed out.
	“Kiss her fucking pussy,” pause “or…” and he leveled the deer rifle to the woman’s cunt.
	With a little bit o’ cum dripping from his cock the boy timidly approached his naked mother on the table.  He paused and paused and paused too long; Ozzie pressed the barrel of the rifle to the boy’s ass.  He went to his knees and with eyes closed pressed his lips to his mother’s cunt.
	Nellie was beside herself.
	Then she was beside her mother on the table.
	Ned kissed and then licked his mother’s cunt—his eyes darting to his naked sister; more bits of cum dripped from his pud.
	“Get on her,” said Ozzie, “fuck her.”
	Now it was Ned’s turn to gasp for air.

	But the powerful deer rifle was a powerful motivator.  The boy crawled up and positioned himself on his distraught mother.  Ozzie kept the gun barrel of the rifle onto the boy’s bare ass, moving it down to the lad’s dangling balls—then pressing the barrel HARD to the teen’s shit hole.
	Ned fucked his mother.
	Slow but deliberate strokes in and out—in and out—IN and OUT.
	Then the process stepped up with speed as the orgasm feeling began to take over.  There was no stopping that process.  Ned quickened his efforts dismissing the fact that he WAS fucking his mother.
	Oh, and the answer to the crazed intruder’s question:  did he fuck his sister?
	Yeah.  Just once.
	Three minutes in and Ned came.  A gusher load of cum exploded into the cunt that had bore him life thirteen years past.  The boy arched his back and strained as his cock (still in his mother’s quim) fired off round after round fully emptying his tool splooge.  When he pulled out he was very dizzy and was right at the brink of passing out.
	The boy fell off onto the floor—twitching.
	Ozzie pushed the barrel of the rifle into Donna’s pussy.
	He didn’t—DIDN’T pull the trigger.  Instead he stripped off all his clothing and mounted the woman himself.  His cock entered her and began to pump.  The deer rifle was lain onto Nellie who froze—especially when the barrel was place right at her chin.  Mother and daughter clutched hands and waited.
	Ozzie got his nut—several minutes later.  Pulling out and he lay on the woman gazing into her eyes his cock “resting” on her fresh fucked cunt.  Ozzie shuddered—was he reeling from the intensity of the fuck? or something else?
	On the floor and Ned continued to twitch.
	On the table and Nellie wept.
	On the table and Ozzie slid into her pussy.
	“NOOOOO!” blurted the girl.
	Ozzie leered at her sliding his cock all the way into her.  Then,
	“GET…OFF…OF HER…YOU SONOFABITCH!”
	Dr. Orell Ortiz was NOT dead.  He wasn’t very much alive but he wasn’t dead.  And in his hand he held the double-barreled .30.06.  Ozzie dismounted the doctor’s daughter.
	“You gonna shoot me, motherfucker?” said a wryly Ozzie.
	“Yeah, motherfucker,” said the doctor cocking the shotgun, “came across my mind.” The man offered a weak smile, nodded to the cartridge box on the floor—then pulled the trigger.

*
Phantasims
	“What was it like?”
	The scent of honeysuckle filled the air; the sound of insects did so, too.
	A siren blaring down street with another wailing to intersect; one siren was police, the other ambulance.  A shot could be heard further down the main street; a car braking, skidding, smashing into another car opposite of where Clavis and Rose sat at the outside eatery.  A fire department siren screamed into the night followed by another police car siren.
	Busy night in the city.
	“It was my 24th one,” he said staring into the “busy night”, “they say the first one is the easiest, the second one the hardest.”
	“Were they?”
	Clavis shrugged, “Not really, not really memorable.”
	“What’s with the 24th one?” Rose knew her man, he was disturbed, distracted with the “contract” on Agent Ozzie.  She sloshed her wine and took note of who was around them.  A sudden gust of breezy air chilled her; there was the stench of the city buses to contend with; and the peppery meal she had recently eaten was beginning to bug her.
	“I knew him.” Clavis said.  Along with being an “agent” for the unsavory Agency he was also a contract killer for the Mafia.
	“He ran a numbers racket, south side of the city.”
	Rose knew her man was a Mafia man; just how deep he was she didn’t know.  She knew that he dealt in shady dealings involving transporting narcotics, cigarettes, booze, people, what have you.  She knew lightly that he was, too, a professional killer.  The US Marines helped him there.
	“Sooo, 24 was a numbers man?” she had little notion to what that meant.
	“Yeah, he was a controller; on the street punks who take the bets from the folk on the street are called runners.  Bets are on everything, sports related or if Vinny Vamouche’s got a chance on getting laid that month.”
	Rose hid her smile.  Sometimes and Clavis could be…odd.  His humor was sometimes dry, sometimes bizarre.  He once laughed himself silly when he saw an old lady trip and fall on the city street; her legs went up, panties went to her knees, her groceries went everywhere.
	“The “controller” runs a small herd of runners and takes a cut of the action, so do the runners—but their cut is usually small.  But the more they do they more they get noticed and can move up in the organization.  There are other perks, too.”
	Rose didn’t want to know.  She was curious, but the less she knew about the Mafia…the better.

	“Twenty-four…” Clavis was lost in thought.  “He had a wife and some children; been in the business like 20 years or so; started out as a runner and worked his way up.  He handled money and went to no one else with the day’s take than the Boss himself.”
	“So what happened—to make him twenty-four?”
	Clavis sighed, “Not sure, wasn’t my business to know for sure—just that I got handed the contract.”
	Two cop cars wailed down the street; the scent of something burning filled the air overpowering the honeysuckle vines that lines the wrought iron fence.  Inside the bistro the piano player was doing ok; the drinks were swimming and Rose…Rose needed to go to the bathroom.  Badly.
	“Twenty-four was known on the street as “Bear.”  Teddy Bear to some, grizzly to others.  He was likable, I like him.”
	“Were you friends?”
	Long pause; then, “Yeah.”
	“We did a couple of jobs, one on our own.”
	Rose had little idea to what “job” referred to; in the Mafia that could mean anything; knock off a convenience store, a gas station, a bank, or a killing.
	“We backed each other up,” Clavis said flatly, “I always done right by the organization, never wronged them.” he was stern in his conviction.
	“And twenty-four?”
	“It was said, later, I learned, that he was possibly pulling some Benny’s off the top.”  A hundred dollars a whack could add up quick.  “Shit like that can get your ass in trouble quick.”  Skimming money from the Mafia?  Not a good idea; not healthy.
	“Allen,” Clavis said a name, usually that was a no-no, “he ran the South Side Wranglers, deviants all of them.  He was soft and easy to get along with but also had a tough side.” slight pause for reflection, “it was said he had put more guys in the ground than the national tree service had trees!”
	Rose again held her smile and giggle.  She really had to go to the bathroom.
	“On any given night, Fridays and Saturday’s especially, and Sunday’s, Allen had anywhere from eight to ten g’s on him easy.  As far as I knew there wasn’t anyone in the Organization that DIDN’T like him!  He was ok.”
	“Then—then that day.”
	Rose crossed her legs—how could she bail on her mate at this critical time?  Looking to the vines and seeing the potted plants—could she surreptitiously squat over one of them and do her business?  Probably not.
	“Then that day?”
	“Yeah, I was waiting on a shipment of smokes to take up to the Quarry Side when I saw Quin the Fat Man across the street.”
	“What a crappy day it was; clouds, smog, noise, way more people hammering about than necessary.  Well, anyways, Fat Man across the street yapping to some schmuck in a hat.  By Quin’s flailing arms and yelling (which I could hear by the way) they were “discussing” the previous night’s baseball game.”
	“At length the two parted with Quin giving the other man a hearty One-Finger goodbye.  He crossed the street, smiled to me; he wore yellow.  Big ass yellow big brimmed hat, big yellow tweed jacket, a yellow watch, probably had yellow drawers, too”
	“And yellow socks.”
	Rose began to feel agony—she was going to shit right there and then if he didn’t hurry this up.
	“Quin was a big man, size 50.  He had a hell of a gait, though; slung those arms like he was going somewhere.  Always smiling, always had a twinkle in his eyes.  Those were blue.”
	“So he crosses the street, sees me, nods, smiles big, and shoves a manila envelope into my gut saying “Here ya go, sonny boy!” and marches on like he’s going somewhere.”
	A fart.  A pesky persistent fart bubble escaped her pert asshole.  There was more to come and Rose didn’t know if she could keep her cheeks clenched long enough…
	“Business was business.  The truck came, in the alley.  The shipment was divvied up and me and Squirrel took our load up to the Quarry.” pause “Along the way I checked the contents of the yellow envelope.  I could see the photograph, a black and white—just the top.  There were a few pages of information and a smaller packet—an advanced.  Half now, the other when the contract was done.”
	Big sigh.
	“I tucked the envelope in my shirt and we made our shipment.”
	Clavis took a long sip of his red wine.
	“Let me go get some more.” Rose said.  She had no idea if she would make it; luckily she was wearing a knee length dress.  If she had to go…
	“Waitress should be around…”
	“She hasn’t been “around” for fifteen minutes!” bitch Rose.  She got up, patted Clavis’ hand and hurried away.  She hated to leave him when one of the few times he was opening up about his life.
	“We need wine at our table.” Rose told the bartender as she hurried to the bathroom.  ‘better not be anyone in my way!’
	Luckily and there wasn’t and Rose had herself a fine shit fit.

	The MAN in the neighboring stall was impressed with all the “noise” from his neighboring stall and giggled when he saw the panties at the ankles of the “whoever” within said stall.
	Rose had entered the MENS ROOM in her haste to de-waste.

	Fresh wine, bread sticks, some antacids, and Rose was ready to hear “the rest of the story.”
	“Goosey Mallow wanted me to take a booze trip, he didn’t trust too many to make that kind of delivery—other transporters usually skimmed a keg or two, or three and the shipment always came up light.  With me, ALL the kegs arrived at their destination to the last ounce!”
	“But I other duties.”
	The antacid wasn’t working or hadn’t kicked in quick enough—Rose felt the stirrings deep in her bowels.
	“Back at my apartment I checked the contents of that envelope.  What I saw on the photograph just floored me.  Allen Nohman.” long pause  “The pertinent details on the “why” were omitted.  Not for me to know nor was it necessary.”
	“The details were simple; his family, his work habits, where he was apt to me on more than one occasion, shit like that.”
	‘don’t say shit.’
	“I could have actually passed on the contract.”
	Rose didn’t know that a contract killer could do that.
	“Not wise but there are sometimes circumstances.”  pause “A conflict of interest is the norm for an excuse and I—I could have—probably should have done so.”
	“Why didn’t you?”
	Clavis shrugged, “I dunno, the money was alright, it was in some cases just another contract—another hit.  Regardless of the “who” the target was…” something-something bla-bla-bla.
	“So, anyways, the hit took place at that uppity Italian place on Skurbull St.”
	“I know it.”
	“Just after the evening crowd, still crowded, still noisy.  Big Lou and Skinny Eddie had invited Allen out to dinner.  They were in the know about what was about to happen.  Allen must’ve known something was up; he was a little skittish and took a seat whereas he could see the door and anyone who came in.  Typical.”
	“He was skittish ‘cause he knew possibly that he was on a contract?”
	“Yeah, my guess.” pause “Well,” Clavis chuckled, “so he sits with his back to the rest of the restaurant facing the door, but I go in, see, to the Men’s Room.”
	He could tell in her eyes… “and?” she didn’t quite get it.

	“So I come out from the Men’s Room, if you’ve been there the Men’s Room is off to the side—to the rear.”
	Rose smiled.  She got it.  Clavis was NOW to his rear anyways.  And besides, Clavis was “a friend!”
	In the Men’s Room he waited until some schmuck did his business and got out.  Clavis washed his hands then stepped into the farthest stall; there he checked his Glock 27 in .40 Smith and Wesson	.  Weapon—check.  Ammon—check.  Target…check.
	Another washing of hands and out.
	The Target, Allen Nohman, never saw it coming.  Clavis walked up behind him, Big Lou and Skinny Eddie ducked just as Clavis put the G-27 to the back of Allen’s head.  The trigger was pulled three times—just to make sure.  Brain matter went everywhere.  Allen’s head fell into his rigatoni with his blood mixing with the garlic infused marinara.
	“You shoulda seen ‘em,” chuckled Clavis, “the other people there went diving under their tables with one woman leaping from the barstool over the bar!”
	It was funny—but a man died.
	“No witnesses?” Rose asked.
	“No,” still chortled Clavis, “scared witnesses,” he said, “and scared shitless witnesses have a way of fouling up details, pertinent details, necessary details.  Fifty people can give at least fifty different details; “he was tall!” no, “he was about average wearing a black coat!” no, “he had no coat but had a hat.” And so on.  One description said I was black with a cane!”
	Rose pursed her lips and felt the need to go.  It wasn’t urgent—not yet.
	“Anyways, that was that—number 24.” a pause for more reflection,
	Big Lou and Skinny Eddie went out the front door and got in a cab.  Clavis went out the side door and to a waiting car he had parked there dropping it off in an underground parking lot a few blocks away.  He then walked to a warehouse and to the basement where he dissected the Glock.  A casual walk out to the nearby riverwalk canal and pausing over the arch bridge he dropped a piece here, a piece there, and the rest was kicked into the sewer opening at the street.
	He got an ice cream—made sure he was seen by at least several people, including a cop and the ice cream man.  Then he went home arriving shortly before Midnight.  Clavis was known on the streets, known by the police (as a member of the criminal organization—he was known.)  The cops, though, never came for him and his Hit 24 made a small paragraph in the city newspaper the following morning.
	Clavis polished off his wine and sat back continuing to reflect; Rose quietly excused herself making headway to the restroom again.  She entered the correct bathroom this time.
*

Steel balls; wooden hearts
	The blast resonated throughout the cabin.
	Ozzie spun around—or WAS spun around.  Ozzie had the deer rifle and as he spun around cold cocked the already delirious in-need-of-medical attention Ned sending him back to the floor where he twitched some more.  Donna sat up sickened by being raped and tried to intervene but got cold cocked herself with the butt of the rifle upside her head knocking her out.
	Ozzie then stumbled coming to rest against the back of the sofa.
	Dr. Ortiz fumbled trying to put another cartridge into the .30-06; he dropped said cartridge.  The man looked up to the stranger; their eyes met and the eyes of the stranger froze the doctor deep within.  Pure unadulterated evil was behind those eyes.
	The deer rifle wavered but leveled at the doctor and the trigger was squeezed.
	Nellie screamed.
	Ozzie whirled on her bashing her head with the butt of the rifle.
	He said nothing.  In his mind a web of contentious deviltry exploded.
	Ozzie cunt pleasing cock went into the bedraggled Nellie and roughly he fucked her for several minutes.  Then he inserted the deer rifle barrel as far as it would go—then squeezed off a round—or two.
	The naked Ned was placed on his sister and his wang against her cunny; then, the barrel of the deer rifle inserted as far as it would go into the boy’s anus.
	And the trigger squeezed off a couple of rounds therein.
	Donna was already dead, as was her doctor husband.  He lay crumbled in a heap on the floor; Donna lay crumbled on the table.  Into her cunny the rifle barrel went expelling semi quietly the last rounds in the chamber.

	“FIRE!”
	From the high tower at Station 29 the ranger on duty saw billows of smoke wafting up somewhere approx. ten miles away.  She called out the emergency and the nearest responders made their way to the site.
	They weren’t prepared for what they found; a burning cabin with bodies inside.  Further inspection made a more horrific discovery.
	“You sure, doc?” asked Sheriff Kay.
	“Thirty years experience,” said the doctor making the examination, and despite the charred bodies, the thirty year experienced doctor noted the riddled internal injuries suggesting—MURDER!
	It took the old country doctor 3 days to make said discovery.
	By then and the crazed Ozzie was deep in the hilly desert mines.
	How many days he wandered?  At least three.  His mind was virtually gone; replaced by nightmares, daymares; frightening images that hounded him.  And he was naked.  He found old bottles of whiskey—he definitely shouldn’t drink but he did.  He did find water; there were ore carts and mining tools strewn everywhere.  He followed the ore cart rails and though his mind was frapped he made marks lest he get lost.  He found exits—one was over a steep drop-off, another emptied into a ravine.
	The local sheriff and his small herd of deputies, along with the state police, state militia, FBI, and an assorted lot of vigilantes were out scouring the landscape.  They all wanted Ozzie—badly.  The good doctor and his family were known to the area and locals and did not appreciate what had happened to them.
	And so it came to pass that Ozzie surprised two deputy sheriffs; the air was hot as blazes, it had been days since the fire and days since the county country doctor determined that it was MURDER! of the Ortiz family.  There were “sightings” of the possible culprit but just mere sightings and nothing concrete.
	Until…
	One deputy managed to get on his radio to call out to his fellow deputies.
	Then shots rang out.
	Deputy Gil Mor found his fellow deputies dead-dead-dead.  One was shot with his own gun in the head and chest, the other was down a dangerous ravine.  A nearby mine entrance was the only possible hiding place for the scum who had caused their deaths.  Gil Mor was hard pressed to keep from going in after the suspect—he was armed with one of the deputy’s gun.  He called in for back-up.

	Deranged Ozzie was deep in the mines; mostly lost, too.  He followed the rails, hid for a while under a toppled ore cart, and avoided the various law enforcing agencies for “several” days.  At length he found an air shaft that emptied out into a wooded area.  He was miles and miles from the primary search area.
	Sighting a cabin the deranged Ozzie made for it.
	There were other cabins but not too close; most the cabins were for summer vacationers and they were “very nice” cabins having multiple floors and lots of space.  A woman was on the back porch of the was dusting off some heavy ornate throw rugs and didn’t see the bedraggled NAKED scroungey man come up on her.
	She was startled—to startled to react quickly; Ozzie was on her covering her mouth throwing her against the railing—and then over it where she plummeted 15 feet to the “rocky” ground beneath the deck.
	Inside the cabin a teenage girl played a piano; her younger brother played a guitar, their father played a washboard.  The girl looked up and screamed LOUDLY when she saw the naked stranger.
	The boy, sitting on an overstuffed footstool toppled over in his shock.
	The man was stunned—even more so when the naked man came at him with a cast iron skillet.  The naked man, unclothed, unshaven, hair in disarray, crazed eyes, bashed the man’s backside sending crashing into the piano.  The girl continued to scream and backed up to the large curved bay window.  The boy, thirteen, was frightened out of his wits.
	Ozzie bashed the skillet upside the man’s head disabling him.
	“Take off your clothes.” Ozzie said to the girl.
	The girl, fifteen year old Beth, silenced her screams and was stunned beyond belief.  She wore a long pioneer-like summery dress; blue skirt to just passed the knees with an attached white blouse.  Long-long brown hair that hung in loose curls to her very nice teenage breast.  A sweet looking girl, very well poised, posed, and mannered.  There was no way she was going to “willingly” do as the crazed intruder demanded.
	Way.
	Ozzie came up with a fireplace poker slamming it down on the already disabled daddy’s backside disabling him further.  The boy was frightened and managed to hurl a galvanized bucket that had some flowers in it.  Ozzie hit the bucket with the poker sending it back to the boy hitting him.
	Then,
	“I’ll fuckin’ kill him if you don’t do as I say!”
	Beth’s pending scream was held in her throat as the naked man pressed the sharp part of the poker to her daddy’s neck.  His crazed eyes locked onto the frightened girl—she had peed herself a little.
	Off came the dress.
	Shifting his eyes to the boy sitting on the floor from where he had tripped,
	“You seen yer sister naked before?”
	The boy frightened out of his wits nodded his head quickly, ‘Yes.’
	“You fuck her?”
	The question was bold—too bold—and further shocked him.  his mouth hung open and his eyes of brown were wide.  He wore a beige-like shirt suitable for private school and non-jean type pants.  No shoes, though.  Dark brown hair that was neatly trimmed he was a nice looking fellow who was normal in the sense that he and his sister saw one another “occasionally” naked.  Nothing more follows.
	“You play with your dick?”
	The boy at first refused to answer; his eyes saw the poker bringing blood to his father so he answered truthfully “YES!”
	“What about you, girlie, you play with his dick?”
	The girl, clad in her bra and panties, was too shocked to answer.
	The answer, though, was ‘No.’
	“Keep a goin’.” said Ozzie to the girl.
	Beth had a hard time breathing let alone thinking.  Crying and sniveling a little she undone her bra and tried to sort of cover her bare breasts.
	“Nut-uh!” shouted the naked man, “I wanna see ‘em!”
	Beth wailed then slowly slid her lavender panties down.
	“Stand up, boy!” shouted Ozzie.
	Clay very nervously stood up.
	“Take off his clothes.”
	“Oh my God!” Beth wailed.
	A muffled noise from the kids’ father put Beth in motion removing her brother’s shirt.  On her knees she took down his trousers and paused only a second or two when sliding down his underwear.
	Then,
	“Suck it.”
	A longer pause as the hapless girl stared at her brother limp dick.
	“Ever suck a dick?”
	The girl turned her head to look at the horrid man expelling “Of course not!”
	“Suck his dick!” said Ozzie with a little more umph to his command.
	Beth closed her eyes tight, one hand on her brother’s ass/hip area, the other holding his penis.  Mouth open she engulfed the “head” then either instinctively knew what to do or she learned it from her private school she went down-down-down.  (as soon as Clay’s cock head was in her mouth—swing!  Instant hardness.)
	Beth sucked-sucked-sucked.
	Clay got hard-hard-hard.
	When she could suck no more and pulled back gasping for air and retching from the horrid task,
	“Now, girlie, come suck me!”
	‘I’d rather put a wet noddle up a badger’s ass!’
	It had been “a few weeks” since last Ozzie the Deranged had had himself a wash—his man part was a little more than funky.
	Beth only went UP and DOWN once before retching, gagging, and then throwing up.  Ozzie held her hair keeping her face on his funky junk, his wild eyes focused on the boy,
	“Git over here!” he demanded.
	Clay made his way to his sister putting his cock right up against her ass.
	“You wanna fuck her, doncha?” seethed Ozzie the Horrible.
	Clay clenched up tightly shaking his head.
	“Don’t you lie to me, boy, I’ll fuckin’ brain ya good!” and he slammed the poker into the backside of the still disabled father.
	Clay kinda sorta nodded; he DID kinda/sorta want to put it to his sister but they were brother and sister, Christians, and dad and mom would fuckin’ kill him.
	Ozzie wrested the girl to the hardwood floor amass the throw rugs and small furnishings.  She fought back and Clay intervened pushing Ozzie.
	“I’ll rip her fuckin’ head off, boy,” seethed the naked man, “an’ shit down her neck while you watch!”
	“So yous best watch yerself and do as yer fuckin’ told!”
	The boy, crying now, nodded.
	“You know how to eat out a girl’s pussy?”
	No idea.
	Ozzie the Demented grinned, “You get your tongue into her pussy and lick her from inside!”
	Clay couldn’t conceive that action.  But he did get on his fuckin’ knees and put his fuckin’ tongue into his sister’s fuckin’ pussy AND lick her fuckin’ cunt box from the inside.  Then he fucked it.
	Once the process of “fucking” commenced the crazed lunatic smacked the boy’s bare ass as he fucked his seriously crying sister.  The boy wasn’t a pro but it was his first time.
	And last.
	Despite the incestuous act the girl got hardened nipples.  There were some good feelings from the incestuous act but the situation as a whole made the act a little less than wondrous.  Beth clung to her brother’s arm and lay twisting in delirium.
	Clay put it to his sister speeding up, slowing down, then speeding up again to the very end.  Then the crazed intruder bashed him in the head with the poker, the curvy part into his skull.  The boy fell away with cum jutting from his piss slit.
	Beth screamed but her scream had reached that apex whereas only dogs could hear.  It was her last scream—the poker (with the curvy part) was slammed into her forehead.  Ozzie sat back on his haunches watching her twitch.  He cocked his head then shrugged mounting her himself.
	There was nothing behind the girl’s beautiful brown eyes; life wise.  Ozzie the Insane entered her fully pumping for several minutes.  He pawed at her breasts, tweaked the nipples, then put his mouth on hers burying his tongue inside her.
	When he had emptied his tool splooge into her cunny he sat on the country style sofa continuing to watch her.  Then he found his way to the first floor bathroom and sat on the toilet for awhile before entering into the very nice shower and having his first shower in weeks.
	Then he shaved his face AND head.  His hair had become tangled and no amount of shampoo was going to help.  A straight razor and an electric razor took care of that.  Then he brushed his teeth, rinsed with mouthwash, then …
	In the kitchen he found top of the line steaks in the fridge; fresh caught fish for the night’s evening meal, too.  Expensive beer and wine along with whiskey, too.  Ozzie the Not-So-Right-In-The-Head Pundsum helped himself to all.  He talked to himself, too—
	“We could live here awhile me thinks.”
	“I’ve always liked the mountains over the beach scene.” said Mason.
	“We could go deer huntin’.”
	“Lots of streams up here, good fishing.”
	“We should check the neighbors.” he giggled as he consumed the steak and slugged down the beer.
	“You like beer or wine best?” asked Mason. 
	“Either, but beer the best—wine fuck you up faster.”
	Mason drank his beer and eat the fish.  Ozzie wasn’t so much into fish or even wild game—it was just fun to shoot them!
	“Gotta take a piss.” announced Mason.  The best friend Ozzie had ever had excused him, farted, then stepped out onto the porch deck overlooking the deep woods.
	“Hey, looky, here, come here!”
	Ozzie grunted and got up from the table going out to where his friend stood.
	Down below lay the still body of the woman Ozzie had surprised early.
	“She still fresh you think?”
	By now and the day had turned to night.
	Ozzie made his way down the stairs and under the open deck area to where the woman lay.  He nudged her, kicked her, and his “friend” still up above peed on her.  Ozzie did same then afterward ripped her clothes off.
	“Bring her up here.” said Mason.
	Ozzie did so.
	Once on the porch deck the two men looked the woman over—the Mason took first dibs laying on the woman fucking her.  Ozzie masturbated getting horny watching his friend fuck.  It had been years since they had palled around.
	As Mason fucked the dead woman Ozzie positioned himself down on his friend’s bouncing ass.  He smacked it with his hands and then his cock.  Mason arched himself and with one hand parted a cheek.  Ozzie entered his friend’s shit hole and fucked him.
	When Ozzie had known Mason way back when before he went to prison they had never had the opportunity to fool around with one another.  There just hadn’t been time.  Ozzie wished he had known that Mason was fooling around with his daughter, Portia.  He would have very muchly likened to known that.

	“She gonna stink up the place we leave her out here.” Mason said when all the fuckin’ was done.
	From the kitchen there was an access door to the basement.  The woman’s body was brought in and pushed down the stairs.  So was the woman’s family; her husband wasn’t “dead” dead but he wasn’t well.  He was dragged in and pushed down the basement stairs—probably dead from that.  The children were brought in and sent down the stairs—they were dead-dead-dead-dead.
	Ozzie slugged down some of the whiskey then stumbled to the living room collapsing on the sofa.  When he awoke from a startle hours later, breaking dawn, friend “Mason” was nowhere to be found.
	“Motherfucker out huntin’ without me!” he drank some more whiskey then found men’s clothes in a bedroom.  They felt good.  Finding the car keys to the Range Rover and Michael “Ozzie” Pundsum left the area for good.

“What's green and has four legs and would really hurt you if it fell out of a tree?”
  A pool table

Your Duck is Dead
	A woman brought a very limp duck into a veterinary surgeon.  As she laid her pet on the table, the vet pulled out his stethoscope and listened to the bird's chest.  After a moment or two, the vet shook his head and sadly said,
	"I'm sorry, your duck has passed away."
	The distressed woman wailed, "Are you sure?" 
	"Yes, I am sure. Your duck is dead," replied the vet.
	"How can you be so sure?" she protested. "I mean you haven't done
any testing on him or anything.  He might just be in a coma or something."
	The vet rolled his eyes, turned around and left the room.  He returned a few minutes later with a black Labrador Retriever.  As the duck's owner looked on in amazement, the dog stood on his hind legs, put his front paws on the examination table and sniffed the duck from top to bottom.  He then looked up at the vet with sad eyes and shook his head.  The vet patted the dog on the head and took it out of the room.  A few minutes later he returned with a cat.  The cat jumped on the table and also delicately sniffed the bird from head to foot.  The cat sat back on its haunches, shook its head, meowed softly and strolled out of the room.  The vet looked at the woman and said, 
	"I'm sorry, but as I said, this is most definitely, 100% certifiably, a dead duck."  The vet turned to his computer terminal, hit a few keys and produced a bill, which he handed to the woman.  The duck's owner, still in shock, took the bill. 	"$150!" she cried, "$150 just to tell me my duck is dead!" 
	The vet shrugged, "I'm sorry.  If you had just taken my word for it, the bill would have been $20, but with the Lab Report and the Cat Scan, it's now $150."

Oh! Boy!
	“Dr. Sham, please!”
	“Nurse Elaine, please!”
	“Dr. MacMann, please!”
	“Lasiter Group Leader, please!”
	Rose rolled her eyes to her life mate, “If I had to do that all day—every day, I’d go stone cold bat shit crazy!”
	Clavis chuckled; the hospital PBX operator was the subject; she had to announce to one and all that the person named over the hospital’s loudspeaker that they had a phone call.  And to lesson security risks no particular phone number or what number to dial or whatever was given out; the doctor, nurse, or group leader simply picked up a phone and punched in his/her own code to get the message.
	Clavis wasn’t fond of hospitals; they creeped him out.  Rose didn’t like the cold environment—supposedly the “cold” environment was to lessen viruses.  Supposedly.
	Just hours earlier and the pair had been “busy” with their batch of young’uns, Megan, Dannelle, Lyndsy, and Norman.  After Clavis had had his way with the girls; spanking them, earnest fingering, spanking their pussies, and receiving healthy blowjobs the girls were spanked, fingered, licked out, spanked on their pussies, and then sucked-sucked-sucked the lone boy of their group, Norman.
	The boy of the group was deeply immersed in his gaming, not too much into sports OR girls!  They were his friends and though he had seen them and other girls in swimsuits he wasn’t all that interested—not sexually.  Not yet.  He was curious, he was normal; but there were other things to involve his mind other than sex.  … … ok, not so normal.
	After seeing the girls naked, though, despite the situation, their situation, Norman Chin got hard-hard-hardest!  The situation for them all was, of course, frightening but not horrific.  Norman let go his desires to achieve top score in his electronic gaming and sought only to immerse himself in other desires.
	Norman also got immersed in the lone adult female.  She sucked the life out of his cock AND dangling virtually hairless nads.  She also spanked him—but not too hard.  The girls one-two-three had to not only suck his cock and nads but his flick their tongues to his butt hole, too!  Of course the girls one-two-three refused—and got a hearty smack to their asses when they did so.  Luckily and the boy had a nice clean funk hole (for them to lick.)

	Clavis got a special joy watching the young boy fuck Rose; he put it to one of the young girls all the harder as he watched the youngster’s schlong slamming into his woman.  Megan Dimple wasn’t as thrilled; slightly—slightly thrilled, though, however, when Norman put it to her.  The boy was eager—more than eager.  Putting it to Rose, a woman, was one thing, but Megan!?  And then Dannelle?  And then Lyndsy?  He was out of his mind.
	Then the text message came in—
	O-boy at Middle-of-the-Desert Hospital
	Complete mission
	End.

	Donning a nurse’s outfit and looking very much the part Rose found a computer terminal and made some inquires—such as patient information, location, status.  Clavis donned a doctor’s outfit; security very seldom checked the ID badge—so long as the “doctor” looked like a doctor, had a badge, all good.
	“Our boy is on the 4rth floor, no ID current, serious wound possibly GSW.”
	There was a little more to it than that—the GSW (gun shot wound) was from a shotgun blast.
	“Oh,” said Rose as they made their way to the elevators, “he’s on “guarded condition.””
	“Lovely.” “Dr.” Clavis shook his head muttering, “Even if he weren’t on a Terminate List—I’d kill him!” for all the trouble he had caused.
	In the elevator was a pretty student nurse, early 20s; long brown hair (to her shoulders only) a sweet innocent face; supple features.  3rd floor and three nurses, a doctor, and a vendor got on board.
	“I suppose you’re wondering why I called you here today.” said Clavis.
	Everyone giggled and chuckled; Rose rolled her eyes.
	4rth floor; there was the nurses station where the pretty student nurse went to check in for her shift.  The rest of the elevator crew dispersed and Dr. Clavis slowly made his way down the hall checking his clipboard.  Two armed police officers stood outside a door.
	“I need to see this patient.”
	Cop One looked disgusted or pissed…or quite possibly constipated; either way, he wasn’t letting anyone in—without a good looksee at the ID badge Dr. Clavis was wearing.
	“Why don’t you—go to the lunch room—cafeteria, get a cup of coffee…and a DONUT.  Take your time.”
	Cop One furrowed his brow and definitely looked as if though he hadn’t taken a shit in a couple of shifts.  Blinking his eyes he said to Cop Two—
	“Think I need a cup of coffee.” then “And a donut!”
	Cop One were some stripes, sergeant stripes.  Cop Two looked confused; then—
	“Why don’t YOU go to the laundry room and look for your wife’s panties!”
	Cop Two wore one less stripe than Cop One.  He paused a moment, then—
	“Hey! I-I think my wife’s panties are in the laundry room!” and he left following Cop One.
	Nurse Rose rolled her eyes, “What is WRONG with you!”
	Dr. Clavis chuckled, “Jedi aint got nothing on me!” and they entered the now unguarded hospital room.

	According to the hospital chart—Patient J Doe was clinically “fucked up.”  The untreated wound on his side most likely from the result of a GSW up close had festered and was infected.  Treatment was being administered but that wasn’t why he was on guarded condition—a notation at the bottom of the page suggested that he might be involved in criminal activities.  There were no specifics and the situation was “under investigation.”
	A few minutes later…
	Patient J Doe was wheeled out of the unguarded room on a gurney with a sheet over him and Dr. Clavis’ clipboard up against his face concealing him.
	“Haven’t I seen this in an old black and white 1930s comedy?” Rose asked.
	“Quite, you!” sarcastically sparked Clavis using his best “Moe” impressionation.
	Down the hall to the service elevator then down to the ground floor.
	Down another hall, then another hall, passed some gathered interns being lectured by a senior physician something about “protocol” and security.  In a nearby conference room next to the cafeteria…Clavis and Rose removed their getup and threw some “acquired” clothing from a clothing hamper onto their Patient.  Then, holding him up they scooted out the doors by the cafeteria, into the parking lot, into the Agency’s ’65 panel truck and gone.
	Ozzie said nothing, he was in a drug induced delirium.
	Clavis said nothing, either.
	Rose hummed—and possibly farted.
	A little ways out of the City, opposite the ‘burbs, and into the agricultural area opposite the desert area.  By noon they were in the dense area of grazing cattle and a grove of woods.  A narrow one-lane mountainous road where goats roamed and were virtually the only ones who could navigate the narrow one-lane mountainous road emptied eventually to a remote area Clavis knew well.
	“End of the line.” Clavis said.
	Rose helped get the still delirious Ozzie out of the truck.  Clavis maneuvered the man a few yards from the truck placing him against an old dead trunk of a tree.
	Rose walked back to the truck to the lee side and waited.
	She clenched herself when she heard the shot.  It unnerved her.  Even though the 9mm Glock was “silenced” she heard it anyways.  She waited a moment then heard the driver’s side truck door squeak open.
	Climbing into the passenger side she glanced to the small clearing and the half trunk of the dead tree.  No body.
	“He’s in a hole, other side of the tree.” A deep natural cave that angled inward; at the bottom about 30 feet in or so was a few feet of water—and several unfortunate wildlife who also fell prey.  A couple of other bodies were there, too.
	Clavis said nothing; he fired up the truck and carefully made way back to the flatland where he pulled over at a large grazing field.  On his cell he typed in:
	“Mission complete.”
	“How many this make you?” Rose asked.
	Clavis closed his eyes—“thirty-one.”
	Clavis Mahonney was a busy guy!

Clavis Mahonney; a busy a guy!	
	“Whad you bring me?”
	“Cheeseburger, extra cheese, chili, fries, slaw, and rootbeer.”
	Clavis didn’t overly care for wines, beer, or harder stuff; wine with his dinner and lady was one thing but to keep a clear mind and in consideration for his liver and kidneys he stove off from liquor.
	It had been a week since Hit Number 31 and Clavis had been in a funk ever since.
	“You need a vacation!” stated Rose his life mate.
	Clavis considered it; there just wasn’t time.
	“Busy.” He said as he munched his loaded cheeseburger.  The setting was in the city park; midweek.  There were no “festivities” to interrupt their tranquil moment.
	“What?” asked Rose noting the love of her life “staring” at her.”
	Clavis offered a meek smile, “You’re adorable.” he said plainly.
	Rose blushed, pursed her lips, and noshed on her pastrami melt.
	The sunlight thru the trees gently kissed the woman before him; he adored her.  Her hair, her smell, her smile (smell?) her eyes.  She was a lovely woman, dangerous, good in bed… … GREAT in bed, knew him better than he knew himself!
	“You liked him, didn’t you?” she had asked earlier.  His answer?  A mere shrug.  But the look on his face told her indifference.

	“I didn’t admire him or anything,” he said at length, “and as for “like”—I dunno, sort of.” Ozzie was a co-worker, he needed experience, honing, shit like that.  Most of the Agency’s Agents considered him a loose cannon—he blasted away his own father in the Agency house’s kitchen for cryin’ out loud!  Then—THEN that school shit, then—THEN the cowgirl, the desert stuff, and so on.
	He was a loose cannon, but Clavis kinda/sorta liked him.
	“You need a distraction.” Rose drawled.
	“You’re my distraction.” Clavis stated.
	Rose smiled; he had the damnedest eyes!  And that smile!  He was rugged; diabolical, kind, sweet, and deadly.  A little uncouth at times but he had some charm to him—a lot of charm.
	Killing didn’t come easy to him; it was a job, business.  Most “contract hits” didn’t bother him—this one did.
	“So what’s the distraction?”

Skidmarks and Spanksitt…
	(pretty much sums up my life!)
	However, after lunch in the park at their leisure there was a leisurely walk to a company vehicle, a “NEW” company vehicle.  It was still a panel truck but it was a 1940 Ford panel; big black fenders, silver and grey body, doors in the rear, a little customization here and there to make it “company” friendly.
	Clavis’ mouth dropped.
	“What—the—fu—”
	Rose smiled big and was a little embarrassed.  She handed her man the keys,
	“It’s yours,” she said, then—“happy birthday.”
	Clavis didn’t do birthdays…especially his.  Rose was a Spring girl and was enlightened when he remembered.  Always something crystal; little animals, jewelry, shit like that.  He was her protector—they had just walked out of a movie theatre, a late showing, and were walking hand in hand to Clavis’ Jag when a thug punk jumped out from between some cars pointing a gun at them demanding the couple hand over their shit.
	Clavis stepped in front of his life mate and his menacing form, glaring stare, and his 9mm Glock produced quickly stunned the thug.
	“Think again.” Clavis had said with enough serious tone that the would be thug did think again and disappeared into the night.
	“You going to stare it to death or drive it?”
	There were a ton of questions Clavis wanted to ask; how much, where’d you get it, shit like that.  He forgo those pesky intrusive inquiries and got into the ’40 panel—then got out and let Rose get in, too…

	“Whattya think?”
	“Good; possible.” slight pause; then, “Do it.”
	The day was done and evening had come; the air was sweetened by a plethora of blossoms from nearby parks; there, too, was the strong overwhelming scent of pizza, chicken, everything barbeque.  Somehow those smells overwhelmed the city’s traffic.
	Outside of a pizza place a Target caught Clavis and Rose’s attention.
	She wasn’t alone of course.  The other assemblage of girls were “ok” and some were very interesting and also possible “targets.”  And while Clavis worked his “electronic” magic via the EMAD Rose sighted in on Target #2.

Tsk tsk tsk
	Donna Skidmarks, fourteen, was having a so-so day; mom and dad were fighting (again); summer vacation plans were scrubbed; her best friend was going on a vacation—to Hawaii!  A boy she liked (like-liked) didn’t like-like her in the same way but like-liked one of her friends in her social.  Kinda irked her.  The movie she had just seen was not as interesting as she hoped—plus the theatre was crowded, noisy, and the friends in her social…ditched her!
	It was on thing after another; waiting for her mom to pick her up she buried her attention into her cell phone checking messages and snooping.  Typical teen girl stuff.  The next thing she knew…
	Her world was turned upside down; the uppity well-dressed multilayered girl in blue and white with LOTS of baubles and “perfect” hair couldn’t believe what was happening to her.  And her security measures, the “tracker” tracking device was gone!  The electronic device that was supposed to prevent another electronic device from dicking with her mind was also gone.
	For a while and her mind was fogged; clouded.  She literally couldn’t think straight.  Her skin, her mind, everything about her felt tingly.  It was unnerving but strangely she wasn’t frightened.  That came when she heard a “voice” in her head—
	‘Take…off…your…clothes.’
	She understood the words but it took a moment or two before they could be digested.  Confusion besieged her.  She cocked her head and displayed “Huh?”
	So, it was thusly clarified ‘Take off your clothes—like you are readying for shower time.’
	As many as five seconds before the pretty uppity girl began undressing.
	Expensive shoes, name brand—socks just to the ankles.

	Outer vest, not too expensive but more than most girls in her age group wore.  A longer sort of vest that went to her hips; very nice and the most expensive piece of clothing.  A white ribbed non tee-shirt almost as expensive as the long vest.  Then her very expensive knee-length skirt, non-denim type.
	The baubles, bracelets, rings, necklaces, all were removed (and ditched into a trash bag that she may or may not get back when the ordeal was over.)  White panties with a floral print and deep pink hem line and basic white bra were also slipped off her fine teen body and placed into the trash bag.
	Perfect hair; very styled, blond-ish, a hint of jasmine all made her “perfect.”
	Perfect nails, polished with honey bees on one hand and ladybugs on the other; sunflowers were on her toenails.  No blemishes on her face, or anywhere else.  No moles, either.  Perfect skin.  She was from a well-to-do family, only child.
	‘Virgin?’
	The intrusive question took the girl’s breath away.
	“Of course!” she almost shouted.
	‘Do you know how to have sex?’
	The perfect naked teen struggled with her confusion.
	“Y-yes.” Sort of.
	She had the basic knowledge but had never seen sex in action.
	She had seen wee little boys, six years old the oldest—naked.
	She had never been molested and had never molested anyone.
	‘Do you finger yourself?’
	Donna was really beginning to feel weirdness.  But the answer was “No.”
	‘Do you know how to SUCK a boy’s cock?’
	“Ohmigod!” she said in one breath.  At this time her “awareness” level had been adjusted whereas she could see somewhat of her surroundings.  The one posing the question she could not see; but there was a young boy she could see.
	Donna closed her legs; she was sitting in a “room” with a super plush carpet.  There were no windows, no doors.  There was air coming from “somewhere”.  There was darkness all about with a light source from somewhere illuminating just enough for her to see—for her to see herself…naked!
	Before panic set in—
	‘calm yourself’
	Easier said than done.
	‘be at peace.’
	The girl did her best (but still was a little freaked out.’
	Then,
	‘Take his clothes off.’
	“Oh shit!”
	The boy, ten year old Danny Spanksitt, was in a stunned sort of way for the beginning of his ordeal.  A little confused but that goes without saying.  He wore typical boy clothes, non-expensive; simple red three button shirt, short britches to his knees, simple shoes with mismatched socks.
	Like Donna, he had a “tracker” device attached to his watch along with another tracker and Device deterrent necklace with a house key and a panic button device.
	All those were deactivated and tossed into the sewer drain at the street.
	Donna moved slowly; her confusion reigned supreme in her young mind but was electronically controlled.  The Device controlling manipulating her on a level whereas she could not respond as she would like but was goaded into following thru.
	The boy kicked off his own shoes, then; Donna undone his pants and tugged them down.
	‘Seen a girl naked before?’ any age.
	“Little ones.” A slew of girl cousins, five and under.
	Danny was too young to be “playing” with himself or even having sexual thoughts towards girls.  Like Donna, Danny was an only child.
	He had no idea what a “blowjob” was or buttfucking or handjobbing.
	The words referring to sex and sex acts, yeah—he heard them but that was it.  At ten and Danny was just barely aware of a girl being “a girl.”
	Off came his shirt and then—then…
	Donna’s blue eyes bulged as she tugged down the boy’s tidy-whiteys.
	Although his mind he had little knowledge of a girl but his cock knew.  There was no dangling member between his legs—Danny Spanksitt had a hard-hard-hard-on!
	‘Suck…his…dick.’
	Donna couldn’t breathe.  She couldn’t think—she couldn’t breathe.
	“Are you fucking serious?” she said astonished.
	Clavis smiled, ‘Yes, I’m fucking serious—suck—his—dick!’
	‘NOW!’
	Donna shook her head but felt this strange incredible force like a hand to the back of her head pushing her towards the naked ten year old.
	‘Suck his dick…or be spanked.’
	Never in her life—that she remembered—had she been spanked.
	Her eyes wandered all about trying not to stare at the boy’s erect penis.
	She pursed her lips and continued to fight back the pressure to suck.
	Then her perfectly shaped lily white ass was smacked and smacked HARD.
	By a belt, paddle, bare hand?  She didn’t know but it hurt like hell!
	“OW!” she screamed.  Her heart beat hard nearly out of her chest.
	‘It is far easier to comply than not.’ Then,
	‘And if you don’t—the boy will be spanked.’
	“Jesus!” the girl bitched.  She didn’t know the boy but she didn’t want to see him hurt, either.
	‘suck his dick,’ said another intrusive voice ‘and get it over with.’
	Donna still held back but eventually gulped; she felt sick to her stomach.
	Danny stood with mouth hanging open wide watching as the naked teenage girl suck his cock.
	“Holy fucking shit!” he blurted.  He didn’t cuss a lot—not even around his friends lest he get to friendly with the swear words and let one rip when around his mom and dad—they were stout Christians and didn’t go for that shit.
	Donna took in the whole ten year old cock and sucked-sucked-sucked.
	She was a natural!  She could use a little experience but for her first time…
	Then,
	‘Suck his balls.’
	Donna’s heart sunk.  Sucking dick was…well, ok—it wasn’t all THAT bad but it was still…sucking cock!  She had always kinda/sorta wondered what giving a boy a blowjob would be like.  There was no describing the “taste.”
	Sucking balls was even more mind blowing.
	Then,
	‘Lick his butthole.’
	(insert negative gameshow buzzer here)
	Five—ten—fifteen seconds of pure stunnage.
	Danny turned around—was turned around—and bent over.  He spread his own cheeks and Donna stared blankly at the boy’s hole.  Inasmuch as sucking his dick AND hairless ball sac was appalling the licking of his cornhole was even more so.  Much more so.
	SMACK!
	A smack out of nowhere nearly very nearly sent the girl out of her skin.
	Tears began to well in the girl’s face.
	SMACK!
	There was no holding back and the uppity girl with the perfect hair bawled.
	‘lick his hole and you wont be spanked.’
	Clavis held his thumb over the sensory button that would boost the gain on his Device disabling the girl’s resistance and virtually forcing her to submit.  Rose had her own Device in one hand, a wooden paddle in the other.
	Donna leaned in and flicked her tongue to Danny’s shitter.  Luckily and the ten year old who occasionally wet the bed was a good wiper.  Donna wept but licked-licked-licked good butthole!

	‘Lay down.’
	Donna reeled in the licking of butthole; clenching herself but not fuming she repositioned herself laying down.
	Danny’s brown eyes were solid on the girl’s nakedness.  He made odd noises similar to that of a fish gasping for air.
	‘Lick her pussy.’
	The boy hesitated.  He knew what a “pussy” was—kinda/sorta.
	Five seconds—ten—fifteen; Danny slowly went down and applied tongue.
	Donna didn’t freak but it was something new.
	Danny Skidmarks wasn’t a “pro” by no means but he licked, lapped, and got thoroughly excited although he didn’t know why.
	‘Get on her—fuck.’
	The concept of “fuck” was no elusive to the boy but then again it sort of was.  Laying on the girl the boy firstly was blown away.  Whether he was a “cummer” or not remained to be seen.  At first the lad humped Donna’s cunt; just slid his dick up and down the crevice and he was pretty enthused and satisfied with that.  Behind them and Rose Beeatrix operated a special camera—she zoomed in tight on Danny’s cock and his balls.  Beside her and the love of her life was undressing…
	Danny was so wrapped up in his humping of Donna that he didn’t realize he was being “fondled.”  Clavis caressed the lad’s smooth white ass, squeezed a cheek and even diddled (probed) the boy’s very virgin poop chute.
	At length, though, finally, the lad slipped his dick into Donna’s groove and the fuck was on.  The camera Rose operated zeroed in tighter on the fuck action seeing a bit of cherry juice coating the boy’s hard pumping cock.  His balls were slapping hard, too!
	Donna grunted and made odd sounds as she was pounded.
	And speaking of pounding—
	What thoughts Clavis Mahonney had were to his own but Rose deduced that he surely wanted to fuck the shit out of Donna.  The boy pumped hard, was spanked, and mustered up a fine orgasm cumulating with a generous spunk blast.  It was his first.  He was like a dog (fucking another dog) and got all tensed up, arched his back, and ejaculated like crazy.
	Donna was in another world.  She had hardened nipples and a glazed look on her stern face.  Danny fell away to one side of the heaving girl to heave himself.  The girl’s panties were used to wipe her broken-in pussy as well as the clean off Danny’s fuck stick.  Rose’s pussy was wet and clammy but she waited her turn as her life mate was about to bust.
	Clavis positioned himself on the girl; he didn’t even mount her for a blowjob, titty fuck, or even a face fuck!
	As Clavis’ cock entered the teenager she let out a dramatic moan.
	Rose focused the camera on Clavis’ schlong watching it slowly slither all the way in—at length.  In the beginning he went half way in, pulled out and fucked the girl’s twat entrance.  Then he went back in going an inch further before pulling out and humping the gash again.  Putting the girl’s legs up along his muscled chest he poked the girl’s very-very-very virgin shit hole before finally—FINALLY! entering the girl’s pussy fully.
	The fuck was on.
	Clavis pumped slowly at first—then sped up; then pulled out to seriously furiously fuck the girl’s slit.  Then he fed the girl’s quim his snake and finished her off in glorious fashion.  On her own and Donna clung to her fucker; wrapping her legs about his waist she got into the fuck herself making more incredible off noises.  Satisfaction?
	It took just under four minutes for Clavis to get his rocks off.  He filled her cunny fully and was graciously satisfied himself.  Pulling out and a magnificent shot of spunk squirted out of his schlong shooting up the girl’s body.
	By then and Rose was in a fit.  Her pussy was virtually a swamp box and cumming without her!  Setting the camera aside (but still operating) she beckoned for the boy.  Crawling over Donna he made his way to the ultra horny Rose.  She liked young boys; sweet faces, lily white asses, hairless nads.
	Whether or not the boy was aware that it was a “woman” he was putting his tool to wasn’t clear.  And like with Donna, Danny glided his cock up and down Rose fevered twat.  The look on the boy’s face!  He was beaming from within.  It no longer mattered that he had been kidnapped and forced (forced?) into sexual depravation.  For a boy taking part in a sexual deviant’s deviancy was a no brainer.
	Like Donna, Rose gripped the boy’s ass, clung to him tenaciously, and “fucked his brains out.”  She shivered, trembled, undulated, and rocked the young boy’s mind, body, and soul.  It was a good fuck.
	Then,
	While Donna sucked on Clavis’ cock Danny fucked her from behind; this after he bare hand spanked her!  He also went down and licked her asshole of which he didn’t particularly care for but he did it.  The boy was mostly willing—mostly.  There were reservations, hesitations  but for the prize of “fucking” won him over.  Donna was not so easily swayed and was disgusted by the things she had to participate in doing—including licking the cunt of a woman’s cunt.  And while she performed that task—she was banged HARD from the man!
	Clavis had a strong grip on the girl’s hips as he ploughed her pussy.  The boy sat by with wide eyes watching amazed at the act in progress.  A time or two—or three and Clavis pulled out and fucked the girl’s dirt hole—all the while her mouth was on Rose’s pussy!
Merrier is more
	Looking into his eyes and she knew—she knew her knight had impeccable taste!  He was hiding his smile, too!  Some said he had a stone face but Rose found that there was charm there.  He adored her.  He cared greatly for her and was a masterful lover.  Caressing her she melted in his care; those eyes!  She couldn’t keep herself from staring into Clavis’ eyes.  Mysterious!  She knew he was a contract killer, a pervert, 	and sometimes romantic, but there were other facets of the fascinating man who had swept her she didn’t know.
	His cock.  There was amazing prowess in the man’s schlong (as it slid nicely into her womanness.)  She clung to him wrapping her legs about his.  They melded as one and slowly-slowly-s-l-o-w-l-y he made love to her…all the while Donna and Danny watched.
	When the loving had come to a close—in dramatic fashion, it wasn’t quite over.  Far from it.  Firstly, Clavis continued to adore his mate; brushing her hair with his fingers, his eyes continuing to drink her into his soul.  Then,
	“This is nice and all,” Rose said caressing her magnificent lover, “but I gotta poop!”
	Clavis rolled his eyes—nice mood killer.

	Two boys, about eight years young, were overheard bad mouthing some other boys in their age range—chiding the young lads for their bright “rainbow” wear; one boy even had a feather dangling in his long hair.  It was a new morning, a new day.  The new ride had to be aired out and afterwards a bit o’ breakfast fare on the far-far side of the City—including sustenance for the still passengers Donna and Danny.
	Rose shook her head tsk-tsk-tsking the bad mouthing boys.
	And where were their parents!?
	The park was busy with peoples romping about half clothed, unclothed, dancing, smoking (those funny cigarettes) and carrying on for some sort of celebration; i.e. Earth Day, Nature Day, What-the-Fuck-Ever Day, Do As You Want Day, Kiss My Bare Ass Day, and so on.
	‘Come here!’
	The first boy, Nick, shook his head rearing his head and looking as if he were about to throw up.  The EMAD had that effect on people.  The second boy, Tim, looked around strangely.
	‘COME HERE!’
	This time both boys marched to Clavis and Rose hustled them into the new ride.  Looking around for security’s sake and seeing no one—no one hustling to rescue said boys Clavis fired up the ’40 and off they went out of the city for a new venture.
	‘Take off their clothes.’
	Not wanting to be spanked or violently raped and Donna Skidmarks followed thru undressing the two newcomers.
	‘suck them.’ said Rose sending her message via her own EMAD.
	Closing her eyes and the uppity naked Donna took Nick’s dick into her mouth and sucked-sucked-sucked him.  Flowed by same unto Tim.
	To say the least and the boys were floored.
	Then they had to face one another AND EMBRACE!
	They weren’t so cool on that notion—but got their little areses smacked for refusing.  They quickly complied and afterwards, eight year old Nick Servan WENT TO HIS KNEES and thusly sucked-sucked-sucked his friend’s dick-dick-dick.  Not too willingly but it beat getting his butt beat.  He cried the whole time; he suckled Tim’s hairless nads, too.
	And it wasn’t over; Tim turned about and as he feasted his eyes on the naked Donna…Nick licked his cornhole!  OMG!
	Then, of course, it was Tim’s turn—or Nick’s turn depending on how you look at it.  And like Nick, Tim had to get his ass smacked HARD before compliance.  He very muchly didn’t care for cocksucking OR ball washing OR cornhole licking.  None of that.
	Nick had three—count ‘em THREE older sisters, two were twins.  They were in their teens and yeah, sometimes he saw glimpses of them in their underwear AND sometimes naked.  But Nick was eight and though mildly curious he wasn’t aroused—just curious.  Tim had one older sister and a younger one.  The younger one was five and he saw her naked all the time!
	‘lay down.’ Nick was told (in his mind.)
	Nervously and the boy complied; still sniveling and caressing his ass.
	Both boys had moderate boners.
	‘lay on top of him.’ Tim was told; then,
	‘the other way…’
	Tim had firstly lain on his friend typical manner but then had to turn about to the more typical sixty-niner position.
	‘suck.’ the boys were simply told.
	When they didn’t immediately “perform”, Tim’s available bare ass was swatted HARD from Rose with her wooden paddle.
	The smack jolted Donna and made her instantly cry—so did Nick and so did Tim.  And Nick hesitated because of his blubbering and because of his hesitating and blubbering his legs were lifted up and back under the armpits of Tim laying on top of him and his ass was smacked even harder!
	The boy’s screams concerned Clavis who thought surely there would be a security breech.
	Donna clutched herself.  Danny folded himself up into a fetal position.
	Tim began sucking on Nick’s dick with great vehemence.
	Nick cried, bawled, blubbered but took his friend’s dong and sucked it.
	A few minutes later and the boys were fucking Rose.
	Then they fucked Donna.
	Then they fucked each other.

	Sticking his dick into the woman—cool.
	Sticking his dick into the teenage girl?  Way cool.
	Sticking his dick into his best friend’s poop chut?  Not cool.  But it beat getting his ass beat.  And he wasn’t so keen on the licking of the poop chute, either.  But again, it beat getting beat.  Nick licked and then fucked his friend’s shitter; Tim cringed as he was cornholed.  Fucking a girl was way better—way.

Then there was…
	“You have no self-control.”
	“No self-control, no ethics, no morals.” He smiled at her as he stated factly adding “What’s your point?”
	Donna, Danny, Nick and Tim were joined by two girls; eleven year old Julianna and ten year old Min.  Min was a flat chest flat bodied Chinese girl; she had some charm to her but more to the point she was standing alone at a city bus stop and Clavis Mahonney liked ten year old girls…
	Julianna had some charm to her, too; long honey blond hair, a unique smile, very nice blue eyes, and although eleven years young she was kinda flat.  But she had charm and Clavis had easily culled her out of a large group of other kids and thusly “acquired” her.
	Making adjustments to the EMAD and Clavis easily swayed the girls to undress themselves.  Rose wasn’t sure if her life mate was crazy about watching the girls get naked or the prowess of the EMAD.  Maybe a little of both?
	Once the new girls were naked…
	‘Suck his dick.’ Plain and simple.
	Julianna blinked her pretty eyes and mulled over the command.
	Sure, she had seen little boys naked; little boys.  No boys her age (or older) and her knowledge of “sex” and sex acts were somewhat nil.
	For Min, though—well, she had an older brother and a younger one.  The older brother liked to fuck—he was fifteen and more than once had Min “accidentally” walked in on him and/or just simply spied on him boning his latest find.  She also watched him masturbate!
	Min (and Julianna for that matter) had yet to find pleasures in pleasuring themselves.  Yet.
	A little goading i.e. schooling and Julianna performed orally on eight year old Nick.  Of course his schlong was small but it was a start.  Min serviced Tim.  Then, Julianna wrapped her pretty mouth around Clavis’ schlong and retched “just a little.”  The mammoth man-cock was a bit more than she could take.  But she took it getting her mouth around the bulbous knob and then down a couple of inches.  Rose caressed the girl’s ass, swatted it, and had very-very naughty thoughts regarding her.
	‘get behind her.’ Rose transmitted electronically to Nick.
	The handsome eight year old readily positioned himself behind the new girl and after licking her asshole slid his dick into her virgin vagina.  Min was oblivious as Clavis had a time with the “adjustments.”  He either had to fully grab the girl’s mind and nix it from reacting to her situation or allow her to react and thusly torment her ass.  That would come later.
	Julianna sucked and sucked well.  Clavis pulled out rubbing his slobbered on cock all over her sweet face.  The girl grinned and chuckled.  Curled up in a corner of the ’40 and Donna Skidmarks was NOT grinning or chuckling.  She was horrified and sickened.  Danny Spanksitt got to get into Julianna himself, pussy first where he came a gusher load and then poked-prodded her virgin poop chute.
	Min was totally mindless and complied well to Clavis’ desires.  She didn’t even react when Rose smacked her ass with the wooden paddle.  The smack made Donna jolt and even cry.
	Min got a mouthful of jiz for her cocksucking efforts.  Danny fucked her virgin pussy but was all of out cum.  Regardless of the horrid situation, the spankings, he was “in.”  He liked it!  Pussy had that effect on people.
	Laying down, legs spread, Nick fucked Julianna again.  Rose smacked his ass with her paddle and diddled herself as she did so.  Clavis watched her and was greatly turned on.  The low light conditions inside the cargo area of the ’40 made the glow to her body “just right.”
	It also made him ultra horny—so he had Donna come service him.  He firstly had he suck him then lay out on her back and as he continued to watch the proceedings of his lover he fucked Donna’s brains out.  Seemed the thing to do.

Self control?  Never heard of him
	Tim got his turn fucking the hapless Julianna; her awareness was a little more than the mindless Min.  Clavis seemed to adore the girl’s ass; his focus was astute.  Of course he may have other things on his mind.  Nah…
	After Tim—Danny.
	After Danny…

	The girl’s beautiful blue eyes bulged as Clavis Mahonney’s more than normal dick eased into her crevice.  He was slow about his business and managed to slide several inches into her.  The sensation was—sensational!  There was a big-big-BIG difference in fucking Julianna than there was doing so to Rose.
	Regardless, Clavis was thoroughly enamored and managed to eek out a little spunk—of which he had Donna suck clean the girl’s cunny plus slobber on him!  Rose smacked the girl’s already reddened ass—then had the boys bare hand spank her followed by Nick in her pussy for several minutes until he grew too tired to continue.  Tim followed—banging off into the girl’s butthole.  Danny had his own choice ‘pussy—asshole’.  He sank his ten year old dong into Donna’s fourteen year old cunt.
	Then there was Rose.
	While taking a depraved break, checking the video camera, Rose firstly had Donna come lick her pussy—thoroughly.  Rose had a hairless quim with a “rose” tat on each side; a red rose and a yellow rose and very well done, too!  Donna licked out Rose’s twat all the while Julianna and Min took turns sitting on her (Rose’s) face!  Rose licked out the two young girls her own self then had then 69 her!
	Rose smacked the girls’ as they sat on her face either “sitting” or laying down for the 69ing.  It very muchly got Clavis going and he pushed Donna aside sliding into Rose’s cunt his father making cock.  Rose clamped onto Julianna’s ass driving her tongue into the child’s pussy; the boys on the side were drooling at this point.  Clavis entered Rose and slowly-slowly fucked her.  A time or two he pulled out and shoved his fuck stick into Julianna’s mouth!
	And for added measure of indulgence, Rose had Danny come fuck the girl’s ass.  And when done, Nick and Tim took a turn.  What fun, eh!?

	Time for a break…sorta.  Out of the City to a neighboring city an hour away.  In between there was a small town with a chain restaurant.  Time to feed the inhabitants of the ’40 panel truck.  No dine in; take out only.  Of course, while waiting for the take-out Clavis took note of a couple more Subjects…of course!

	Brooke Emmadong was one of those demure girls; not overly shy per se but reserved, curious, cautious, and tried to fart when no one was around.  Tried.  While hanging loose outside the bathrooms by the payphones she let one rip.  Enter Clavis who nonchalantly followed her as there was some interference interrupting his mind-lock to the Subject.
	It was a quick butt blast and as soon as it ripped the girl knew that she wasn’t alone.  She turned around and was horrified to see Clavis—I myself often get that reaction from people on the street and supermarket…
	Anyways, the girl was petrified and instantly was embarrassed.
	Clavis activated his EMAD taking note that his sophisticated EMAD had detected EMAD Detectors and Preventors.  Most establishments private and/or public had EMAD D/P’s at all entrances/exits.  Most peoples had them on their person.  It was a little cause for concern but Clavis’ unnatural desires superseded security concerns.
	Rose rolled her eyes as the newest member of Clavis’ desires was escorted into the sleek panel truck.
	“Not a word!” he said hiding his smile.

	“You’re a scumbum, Mr. Clavis
	You really can retch a vole
	You’re as cuddly as a biker, you’re as charming as mole
	You’re a greasy politician (without his soul!)

	“You are a monster, Mr. Clavis
	Your heart is an empty hole
	Your mind is full of chiggers, you have sautéed onions on your soul
	And I wouldn’t touch you with a twelve foot pole!

	“Yes, you are a foul one, Mr. Clavis
	There are bedbugs in your smile
	You have all the charm of a homosexual crocodile!
	And given the choice between the two of you—I’d take the crocodile!

	“Mr. Clavis you are rotten
	There are no redeeming qualities in your pot
	You are at the top of the heap of sinful sots
	Your heart is as dead as a rotten tomato with moldy green spots!
	You are a stack of sauerkraut with ‘shrooms and bat shit sauce!”

	Before the day was over and there were four—FOUR more to occupy the space in the 1940 Ford Panel (custom).  FOUR!  After Brooke there was a ten year old boy and a five year old girl—the boy was acquired as he stood trying to finger out a bus schedule.  The ’40 cruised by and plucked him up just that easy.  The girl was “left behind” at a rest stop.  Large family, she had wondered off, the end.
	At a larger city two hours from the last smaller city a flaming red hair girl was accumulated; she was pretty, flaming red hair, and eight years young.  The other was a twelve year old cowgirl who was seen thrown from her horse.

There are just some sounds that are soothing to the soul to hear; a crackling fire, babbling brook, breeze thru the trees, the crunching of snow as you walk thru the woods, the snapping of the neck of some fool who thinks they better than you, babies laughing, the moo of a cow, a cat’s purr…

	Well!  If Donna had been more of her mind she would have been aghast and shook her head clenching her lips together tightly; along with Danny, Nick and Time, Julianna, Min, there was another boy, a wee little lass, another ten year old girl and a twelve year old PLUS a red haired girl no more than eight!  Eight!  WTF!?
	Julianna made a scowl but was too confused to fuss.
	Min—mindless.  She complied with all of electronically sent messages.
	Nick and Tim were pretty much willing to participate as was Danny.
	Donna?  Not so much but she DID comply lest she get her already searing ass beat.  Rose favored her—and Danny—and Nick and Tim.  Newcomers Brooke and Anna had her attention, too.  Clavis was enamored with Brooke and the youngest, Grace, who had been left at the rest stop.
	Brooke, the reserved girl, followed thru with commands with slight hesitation.  She wrestled with the electronically sent messages trying to determine if they were Right or Wrong.  She was overwhelmed and compelled to follow thru—such as getting undressed.  ALL the children had some sort of tracking device along with EMAD detectors and preventors.  Some of those devices were tossed into the curbside sewer or attached to a loose street wise wondering doggie.
	Ten year old Kyle was almost elven—three months and some days.  Dark hair, blue eyes, sweet round face, curious.  Seeing the naked girls and he couldn’t close his mouth.  He would have readily stripped off his clothes his own self but Clavis had Donna do that task—along with sucking his dick afterward.
	Elaine, with the flaming hair, stripped off her clothing without hesitation while twelve year old cowgirl Anna did.  Anna had a mild concussion (from being thrown from her horsey.)  Something had spooked the animal and tossed her passenger, Anna.  Anna clunked her head on a piece of plank wood rendering her unconscious for a couple of minutes.  When she came to she was traveling in the ’40 going down the road feeling mildly bad.
	Brooke was calm as she stripped off her own clothing; so was Elaine.  Anna?  Not so much.  She was fraught with confusion and some fright; long-long brown hair with a single braid going over the top of her forehead.  And what a smile!  There, too, were dazzling eyes of bright blue and such a smile!  She was lumpy and had a nice-nice form.  

	Once the newbies were naked…
	Donna sucked-sucked-sucked on the new boy, Kyle.  Kyle was an only child and had no clue really of what a girl looked liked naked.  There was mild curiosity but he was cool with it.  Looking around he stared and stared and stared at Donna and then Julianna, Min, Brooke, Elaine, and Anna.
	After Donna had sucked him into oblivion and he had the hardest dick ever he “went down” on her licking her pussy further destroying Donna’s mind.  And after a few minutes of licking twat he got to fuck the girl.  There was no concept of what “fucking” was and he had no idea what sex was about.
	He was a quick learner!  As soon as he was “in the groove” and his dick was pumping his amateur status was escalating.  He pumped vigorously and the look on his face…classic dog!
	Rose caressed his very white ass, clutched his balls, and had very-very naughty thoughts.  Very.  
	And whattya know—he came!  It was Kyle’s first and WOW was it ever spectacular.  It was akin to having a real good pee.  The boy ventured into Julianna and then Min.  Julianna wasn’t thrilled and fussed a little—resulting in getting her sweet little hinny smacked (legs lifted up and back.  Clutching the plush shag carpeting and the young girl dealt with her ordeal; Kyle went on to fuck the bejezus out of the girl—and then Min.

	After a round of soda and water the festivities resumed.  Rose was settled having the young boys Nick and Tim flanking her sucking their schlongs.  Danny boned Julianna—and liked it!  Julianna—not so much.  Her awareness level needed slight adjusting but Clavis managed her enough to keep her level.  She was a cutey!
	The camera zoomed in on Min as she rode Kyle.  Her legs spread wide over the young boy focusing on the boy’s puddling sliding nicely into the girl’s quim.  Clavis caressed the girl’s ass, smacked it, fingered her, poked, and smacked.  A sidewise glance to Rose and he was giddy inside; the love of his life was suck-suck-sucking the young schlong of the eight year old boys and diddling herself as she did so.
	After all the consuming of sodas and water…
	“I-I gotta pee.” announced Danny.  So did Kyle and the other boys.
	Rose took the lads outside settling down on the ground, legs spread.  It was just coming onto evening type time and the air was no longer searing hot.  They were far between civilization; high desert, large pull-out, alone.
	The boys peed onto Rose’s pussy.
	Meanwhile, 

	Clavis held the eight year old Elaine to his body, caressing her all over and fascinated with her hair—her flaming red hair.  It was short but full, a little frizzy, full of life.  Flat chested was the girl (hairless, too).  There were some freckling here and there and her body as a whole was virtually lily white.  Clavis had her please him; a handjob firstly followed by a hearty blowjob.
	Then there was Anna.  The cowgirl.  She had uniqueness to her that drew Clavis to her.  Her hair, her eyes, her lumpy chest.  She had an intoxicating smile, too!  Down onto her twat did Clavis go; licking, nipping, driving into her virgin sex until she began to squirm.  The girl experienced both realms of shock and pleasure.
	Then Clavis mounted her sliding into her virginity his manly manhood.
	After the boys had peed thoroughly onto Rose’s cunt she re-sucked them, caressed their bums then got on her knees having the boys lick her asshole and then fuck it.  Donna was brought to the edge of the open back door and Rose munched her out.
	Clavis pulled out of Anna, spanked her pussy with his cock, poked her equally virgin pooper then slid himself up her body resting his cock between her beginner titties.  The girl was petrified as her young pre-teen mind couldn’t quite grasp the whole ordeal.
	A generous amount of man spunk splashed onto the astonished girl sickening her.  Clavis put his balls into her mouth and had Min suck his cum squirting cock.  Anna fussed underneath him wailing with a mouthful of testicles!
	Oh, and there was the other last minute addition—Grace.  She was the five year old blond hair incredibly bright blue eyed girl accidentally left behind at the rest stop.  After Min had sucked-sucked-sucked his cock he checked on the five year old—she was asleep in the front seat.  She had peed herself a little; Clavis stripped off her clothing—bright neon yellow shorts with an off-yellow tank top with colorful cartoony characters all over it.  (she also had on yellow panties)
	She didn’t awaken as she was rendered nude; the boys came in and got the dongs all cleaned up—Donna and Julianna using wet wipes to clean the boys.  Thereafter, Nick licked the five year old Grace’s pussy.  He didn’t like it too much—she had peed!  Rose smacked his ass and the boy licked—then he fucked.
	Donna was aghast while Anna was horrified.  Sitting on Clavis’ lap the naked child’s legs were spread over his and the eight year old Nick fucked her.  It was a little sloppy and didn’t go as planned but eventually—it did!
	Rose cleaned up the little girl’s broken-in pussy—then Tim took a turn just pumping to be pumping and not for any other reason.  His “awareness” level had him being too aware of the situation.  There wasn’t concern about the situation but more on the lines of confusion (he knew what he was doing was kinda wrong.)

	Kyle didn’t have that problem, he sunk his willing pink prick into the five year old and “got after it.”  He didn’t cum but he was close.  Danny “got after it” himself and went right into Elaine thereafter.  Anna was boned by Kyle and then—Clavis.

“There are just some sounds that are soothing to the soul to hear; a crackling fire, the crunching of snow as you walk thru a forest, the snapping of necks of some fool who thinks he/she better than you, babies laughing, the moo of a cow, cats purring…”

“Nine out of ten men prefer women with curves; the tenth man prefer the other nine men…”

“A new study has found that people who drink black coffee are likely to become anti-social psychotic sociopaths while people who drink a quad shot vanilla non-fat soy with extra foam with caramel drizzle are likely to be their victims.”