August Moone Sagas
Book 7
Shadows of Moons
Chapter 13
Coercive Tactics 101

While camping…
	While camping with her brother and Daddy, something happened.  Thru the day young Jenny saw her brother (Nathan) and Daddy peeing—usually into the river, the creek, or the ever popular handy-dandy bush.  Brother Nathan enjoyed pissing on a tree or two!
	Jennifer, though, had some modesty to her, going to the bathroom was regarded as a private and personal thing—‘cept when in the company of her brother (in the playhouse and in the bathroom!)
	That evening, though, the three occupied space in the same tent.  The evening was cool, but not so as it warranted dressing in thermals.  The campfire had died down, the marshmallows all but eaten up; the night had come, there were birds still chirping but most had turned in as well.  There were other campers about, but not too close.
	Tucked inside their shared dome tent, the Daddy stripped off his clothes and laid out on his bedding.  Jennifer and Nathan giggled as they were still in a playing mood.  Nathan saw his Daddy naked (with an erection yet) and gawked at it.  
	Jennifer did likewise.
	After much ado abut the kids “gawking” at his penis, the kids stripped out of their clothes, down to their skin—as coerced by their Daddy to do so.  Young Nathan had no problem with compliance, young Jennifer was a little skittish—a natural instinct about being naked at her age with her Daddy and brother present.  Being naked with her brother was one thing, but her adult Daddy was something else.
	But being naïve and all—Jennifer slid off her panties and was nude.

	And though brother Nathan was very much the “naughty” boy, he was taken aback a little by the antics of his sister—of course, she was heavily coerced by their Daddy.  Now, whether or not the Daddy was using an EMAD was not known—but soon Jennifer had her fingers about her Daddy’s prong and was stroking it—just like she did to Nathan.
	From stroking to “kissing the head”.
	From kissing the head to “sucking”…
	Nathan found himself in the same manner (his side of the story was later learned and at first the coercion was met with some resistance (doing naughty things to his sister was one thing—sucking off his Daddy’s pee-pee was something else all together.)
	But the boy did it anyways.
	And while Jennifer took her turn (again), Nathan was coerced to prop himself up behind the girl and “in the butt” he went.  Hand humping was good, laying his hard-on against his cool sheets was one thing, soaping up his pud in the shower was good—but shoving his fuck stick into Jennifer’s poop chute was best of all!
	Only a few pumps up his sister’s butthole before he pulled out.  He was a little grossed out by the discoloration on his schlong and used his sister’s panties to wipe his prick clean.  Jennifer kept sucking for a long time on their Daddy’s dong before she choked and nearly gagged.  Nathan wasn’t sure (nor was Jennifer) what the “stuff” was in her mouth, it wasn’t pee but it was something else.  Whatever it was, Jennifer didn’t like it.  She spat out the milky goo and Nathan saw it sputtering out of his Daddy’s penis.  
	When Jennifer had recovered she was laid out on her backside, the naked Daddy right beside her running his hands up and down her fine young nude body.  Young Nathan got a hard-on like never before.  And soon the boy was coerced to “go down” on his sister, to lick her out where she peed.
	Nathan wasn’t opposed and had actually always really wanted to do that, but then again, when it came right down to it—it WAS where she peed from.
	“You better not pee on me!” Nathan had quipped.
	Jennifer giggled and opened her legs…

	After the licking came the fucking.  Nathan’s immature (but hard) cock made entry into his sister’s sex, there was stiff resistance but penetration was made just the same.  Jennifer struggled to accept the breech and it was then Mack determined that an EMAD had to be in use.

	Nathan pumped his sister for some time, his puddling kept slipping out and he merely grinded it against her cunny.  The sight of blood coating his cock and her cunny grossed him out—so once more her already soiled panties were used to wipe himself and her clean.  Then the fucking continued until the Daddy could hold off no more.
	But being a Daddy his cock was too big for simple insertion to her sex; and he didn’t seem to want to seriously damage or hurt her—she was his offspring and he loved her.  Sooooooo, with Nathan holding her legs back he plowed into her Second Choice.
	And while brother Nathan held her legs back, Jenny suckled on her brother’s nut sac.  The dear Daddy made slight insertion into the girl’s anus, just part way but it was still uncomfortable for the virgin pooter.  
	Before long, Jennifer was sucking away somewhat happily on her Daddy’s dong (again) while behind her her brother once more humped her; he firstly pumped vigorously into her cunny (again), then once he had cum there, he spent some time fucking her asshole.
	Meanwhile, the Daddy had fully unloaded his love cream into his sweet naïve daughter’s mouth.

	There was a blank spot in Jen’s memory, shortly after gagging on the splooge that filled her mouth.  Her next memory was waking in the wee-wee hours of the morning, naked still and in the need to pee.  After fully awakening and knowing that it was damn cold beyond the covers, she became aware of something going on.
	It wasn’t something going on with her, but beside her.  There was a significant amount of “grunting” going on.  Jenny saw her naked brother on his hands and knees, face down in the bedding, bare ass up in the air with their Daddy behind him pumping steady and surredly.

*

	Despite what had happened, Jennifer remained happy-go-lucky—giving further weight to the thought that the girl’s Daddy had indeed utilized some sort of electronic measure to mess with her mind.  Carefully with minute expertise and care, Mack went over the young girl, special attention to her young cunny.  
	He’s own manhood surged and slowly rested against the girl’s sex, he’s mind whirled and thought of seeing her brother take her.  How many times had the Daddy taken them camping?

	There was much enjoyment with Jennifer, Mack took his time but soon his cock demanded attention.  The young girl made very little facial expressions indicating that she was in discomfort.  Mack took his time gently guiding in his hardness.  

	Although there were several Possibles at the church across the street, the choices were actually limited.  Of the Possibles of Interest, there were nine in total that piqued Mack’s interest.  Six were chit’lins under twelve, two others were fourteen-ish with the other at a ripe sixteen.
	And of all of those Possibles, only one was of Interest; Jennifer’s brother, Nathan.
	And Nathan didn’t care to be there at all.  
	And then of course, there was Jennifer and Nathan’s mother…
	He had to think about it.
	But what was there to think about?
	He sat brooding while tugging on his johnson in the living room, watching the antics of the church goers across the street.  From the news he had learned that Jennifer’s Daddy had been arrested—suspected of taking Jennifer.  During the investigation nude pictures of the girl had been found on his home computer, along with soiled panties having the “soil” be his own cum in her underwear.  But there was no sign of the girl.  It was thought she was dead.

	Jennifer Jobber was NOT dead.  She was very much alive and pleasing Mack Nomad in all kinds of ways.  All kinds.  After semi successfully enjoying her in all three of her fuckable holes, he had the young girl shower.  He himself stood outside the shower stall (at first) watching her as she lathered up and went thru the process of cleaning herself.  Then he joined in and took her in the ass.
	There were some underlying desires to be rough with the girl, he had been so with others in the past.  But that had been due to uncontrollable implants—both the physical as well as the mental.  Once those things had been controlled the violent tendencies were curbed.
	But the desires were still there—to spank, harshly, to bind, tie, and seriously spank until there was extreme distress.  It went beyond sexual gratification and Mack managed to downgrade the abuse to a more tolerable level.  There was spanking, but not harshly or to whereas there would be undue pain.

	With his government and self-imposed mental implant, his EMAD abilities were beyond measure.  Easily was he to be able to control Jennifer, her naïve mind was very susceptible to mental input allowing her to be “herself” but also to obey without question her “new way of life.”
	Jennifer Jobber’s New Way of Life was to “service” Mack Nomad.
	Servicing Mack Nomad was a Blow Job in the morning.
	Servicing Mack Nomad was a butt fuck at noon.
	Servicing Mack Nomad was a spread eagle fuck in the evening.
	Servicing Mack Nomad was a hand job throughout the day “whenever” deemed necessary.  The girl went nude 24/7, sat on his lap, fingered herself before him, showered with him, and slept in his bed.  By week’s end, Jennifer’s brother and mother would join in…

Full House (revisited)
	Kathleen Jobber though overly not pleased with her captivity and subsequent fuckings, was also not over opposed.  The kidnapping and mind overwhelmed bit was a bit much, and she was in fear for her children’s safety and well being; but, the satisfying fuck she got from her kidnapper was undeniably good.
	Struggle as she might, she could not deny the sensation of an incredible orgasm.  The man who had kidnapped her had a cunt pleasing cock.  As she was soothed into an incredible realm of ecstasy, she was brought into the narly world that was of the narly kind.
	She still possessed some of her “old life”, she knew of her children and church life, work, home, children, work, asshole husband, children, children—children…
	As an orgasm beyond her wildest dreams seethed thru her, she thought solely of her children.  Nothing else there was and she saw in her mind the images of Jennifer and Nathan, naked.  Soon Nathan was standing with an erection, he was playing with it, smiling, and pleasing her as he always could.  He still needed a haircut, he had a huge amount of dark hair that fell partly into his eyes and covered his ears.  But he threw a major hissy fit about having any of it trimmed.
	(it was the same style as he Daddy wore)
	Jennifer was standing by him, too, also nude.

	Kathleen herself lay on a bed, the room she didn’t recognize, but it was cool and not very well illuminated—almost dark.  She was also without clothes on.  Her cunny tingled, it pulsed and throbbed and demanded attention.  Since her asshole husband had left, satisfying her cunny was left to fingerings and cucumbers.
	She found herself every so often dreaming-fantasizing about her son.  But of course that was wrong, immoral and illegal.  If she should ever be found out! 
	The desires she kept to herself; but once in bed, once in the shower, or sometimes while on the toilet—she frigged herself thinking of what it could be like to have Nathan’s young pud fucking her.
	What would his cock taste like?
	Could she get him to fuck her asshole?
	Was Nathan and Jenny screwing around?
	What would Jenny’s cunt taste like?

	What was Reality and what Fantasy?  Kathleen seemed to waver in and out of the two realms and she couldn’t rightly grasp either one.  It was a strange world she couldn’t make sense of.
	Son Nathan was on her, naked, having sex with her.  He made love slowly, resting his head on her Mommy breasts.  He felt real, he seemed real.  It seemed real…
	Kathleen ran her hands over her nude son, although his young cock was nothing of significance, it was a fantastic fantasy cum true.  For ten, Nathan had a pleasing prong—she felt it sliding slowly in and out, at times the puddling popped completely out of her cunny.  But only momentarily, the boy reinserted and continued his humping.
	Closing her eyes she thought—or tried to.  She felt that it was wrong, or almost wrong.  But then again, she couldn’t quite put her finger on WHAT exactly was wrong.  The more she struggled with the moral/immoral issue the more those pesky things seemed to erode away.  She was Kathleen, her children were Jennifer and Nathan.  Her lover was Mack.
	With her lover, all was well.  He was a good lover, as good as her son.
	Her son.  Sex.  
	Her daughter.  Sex.
	Doggie style, in the shower, backdoor, around-the-world, reverse Missonary, spanking, double teaming with her son and lover.  The taste of her daughter’s poon was good, too; the sinsation of her daughter licking her out was good, too.  She had no problem with any of it.
	All was well…

	And so it was.  A new life for Kathleen, daughter Jennifer and son Nathan.  They weren’t the first, they weren’t to be the last.  For the time being, they were.  After Nathan had humped his sister enough times, Mack Nomad was capable of making full vaginal entry into the girl.  She squealed, grimaced, made faces of displeasure, but after a number of times of trail and try, Mack was in the nine year shooting massive wads of hot cum into her sex.
	Her asshole got the same treatment as well as her mouth.
	Kathleen herself held her son’s cheeks open so as her “lover” could adequately make anal entry into the boy’s rectum.  The boy poised on his hands and knees, his head up against his mother’s body, his mother leaning down on her son with her Mommy hands holding his cheeks open.  Beneath him lay the nakedness of Jennifer who played with her brother’s dangling cock and balls.
	And as for Kathleen herself, she thoroughly enjoyed son Nathan screwing her.  The boy’s puddling was small, short, but very nearly satisfying enough—it wasn’t so much as the size (no, really) that matter, it was the simple fact that her son Nathan was “putting it to her!”
	She loved her son, and in the physical since it was even better.
	And very happily she enjoyed her daughter, Jennifer.  Usually, though, it was by some coercion from the lover, Mack; she did not willing engage sexually with Jennifer on her own—but going nude and playing (in the nude) bathing, sleeping, romping all in the nude was okay and acceptable.
	But with the “coercion”, Kathleen enjoyed tonguing out her daughter’s cunt, spreading her legs (and lips) wide and driving her tongue DEEP into her nine year old daughter’s cunt.  She often slipped a finger up her asshole all the while behind her Mack fucked her.
	Kathleen had no problem watching Mack stuff himself into the young girl, of which Mack was pleased and assured that his Minding techniques unto the woman had been virtually successful.  
	This gave Mack the security to leave the apartment for short periods of time.

*

	Mack Nomad was—a nomad.  A wanderer.  Partly on his own, partly due to the simple fact that Government thugs were looking for him, and partly due to that fact that he was restless.  He didn’t like sitting in one spot too long.  He felt that he was “driven”, or being driven.  Somewhere.

	Bothered by how close his apartment was to the church where he had “acquired” Kathleen and her family, Mack sought other digs.  The town he was in didn’t have much to offer, it was rather small with just under five thousand residents.
	But soon he did secure a plausible home, plenty of room, low key, secure.  It would do, it wasn’t for long term—just for the “time being” until he got his itch scratched.  
	After getting Kathleen and her family settled into the new digs, Mack trolled the streets in an effort to continually satiate his itch.

	And it wasn’t just the sex, the acquisitions, or the simple ditching the gov’ thugs, he felt that he was being driven—to someplace he didn’t know of.  He was curious about the mythical beings so prevalent in the cities of the nation, green tornadoes supposedly transporting peoples/places/things into a new realm of existence.
	He felt some sort of calling.  It was more than curiosity—just what he had no idea but he wanted, yea, was willing to find out.  But first!  A little hanky-panky!

Coppers!
	Much ado about coppers.
	One missing child got one patrol officer to speak to the frantic mother and take a report.  TWO missing children (girls) got another patrol officer, a detective, and a Federal Officer who spoke to other mothers and took more detailed reports.
	A missing mother warranted a full scale neighborhood lockdown and a knock-knock on every door in the area.  Search dogs, helicopters in the air, and more nosey Federal Officers.
	“Well this sucks.” quipped August narrowing his eyes and fuming.
	“Get ‘em in the basement.” he said to Logan and Ken.
	August watched secretly as door to door the police and Federal Officers knocked politely.  But he could see, too, sneaky Feds ducking in behind the house, using the alley, scouring even the trees, inside of garages, and searching for access to basements.  In the neighborhood area, though, those “access” were from the inside of the home itself.
	August knew he had fucked up.  Taking the little girls wasn’t so bad, but the acquisition of the woman was a bit much—too much.  The missing little brownie girls would have warranted a strong search of the area, but not to the degree of where there were choppers in the air and etc.

	August made a sweep of the house, checking for “evidence”.
	In the kitchen on the table sat Carleen and Nellie’s cookies.
	He had just plucked them up when there was a knock to the door and someone was in the side driveway making for the backyard, checking the side door.  Luckily, though, the doors and windows and doors with windows were blocked with heavy drapes and curtains and heavy window tint.
	August shoved the girls’ goodies into the oven, clipboards and all.
	Quickly he pulled on some clothes, some, and checked the door.
	A Suit, a government Suit stood there—dark suit, dark glass, no humor.  Mack held off answering, he might go away.  might.  Probably not, but he might.  The doorbell was activated, the FedSuit knocked repeatedly but stood rigid and still.
	Another FedSuit, one who had slipped along the side of the house, came up shaking his head.  They spoke saying something but August had never took the time to read lips—just minds.
	Luckily, August’s ride was in the garage, and the garage was locked up tight, no windows.  The FedSuits stood for a moment more then left.  August’s stomach soured; he regarded the incident as a security breech…

Over the river and… (well, you know the rest)
	Having no real desires to stay in any one place for too long, August the 2nd didn’t have any reservations about ducking out in the middle of the night.  He wasn’t quite finished with Ken and Heather, Logan and Holly, Krista and Brianna, Tyler and Eric, or Carleen and Nellie.  So they accompanied him on his move-out.

	He missed his old camper.  He missed the early days of tooling in the woods , then the chilling out in the backcountry in the cabin.  But the new ride was pretty good, too; it was the destination he was concerned about.  Well, not so much as “concerned”, or even “worried”, but he felt apprehensive about.  He didn’t know where he was going or what would be there when he got there, but he felt that it was pertinent to his life.
	Maybe.
	His new ride was comfy; big, but comfy.  It had been previously customized and August took some time himself in customizing it further to his liking.  There were some eleven peoples with him, two were adults.  He had determined that like the previous brood he had had with the camper pickup, he would have his run with them then ditch them as needed in some city or something like such as that like that there.

	Simplistic.  He missed the simple way of life, it was getting too complicated and made him edgy.  But the doing of the group was good, Logan was fully on board, Ken certainly was.  Heather, the former security guard with Ken, was herself, but had been “adjusted” to come around to the new way of life.  She was not a security risk but August still saw in her mind images of her past.  They were deeply rooted and entrenched and he couldn’t destroy them—so he set into motion new images—her way of life and other plausible images to counter measure the originals.  It confused her and she made the Original Memories out to be something she saw on tv, something she read, something she made up from a dream.
	Holly, too, was programmable to adopt the new way of life; it was easier to deal with them and August sought to make those adjustments so as they would not be a security risk while in transit.
	Krista Coyma was left with some of her originality—was left with a great deal of “herself”, but she was controllable so as not to be a risk factor.  Command words, phrases, and the like brought her to comply although she did not wish to suck off little boys, men, or pussy.
	Brianna, too, was like Krista, but with her young age she was more susceptible to verbal instruction rather than Mental Commands.  
	The boys, Tyler and Eric were willing participants—so long as they weren’t overly harmed; they enjoyed screwing the girls.  They weren’t too keen on BEING screwed, spanked, or forced to suck cock—the men or each other, but the rest they could deal with willingly.
	Carleen and Nellie.  The two newest members were a delight beyond delights—being young was a plus.  They were controllable by both measures—Minding Abilities and verbal threat.
	And then there was Doris Nackman.  She continued to be in a quandary of Willing and Not So Willing.  Being kidnapped for sexual purposes was a toughie.  Being kidnapped and brought into a world of sexual depravity was another toughie.  She wanted to be the good wife, the good mother, the good Christian—but she also wanted to be as naughty as possible with the likes of Eric and Tyler—even Krista and Brianna and …
	En route to his destiny—wherever that may be, a rest stop came to be.  August whipped the big humongous land yacht into a space at the rear area and parked.  They had been on the road some hours and a break time was needed—or a fuck break if you will.
	A quick shower, some lunch, and then…

	Too much had gone on for adequate dealing with the newest members, Carleen and Nellie.  Tyler and Eric had “broken” the girls in adequately enough, and Logan had stuffed the girls himself.  Ken had gotten off into the girls’ mouths but August had yet to properly introduce himself…
	On the rear bed which was queen size, Carleen and Nellie laid out naked, waiting.  As with the others they had been “conditioned” to accept their new way of life, but were allowed to still retain some of their “old life” so as they wouldn’t be “zombies”.
	Their fright level was still with them, but not to the extreme.  Their eyes bulged as the naked August came unto them.  He took his time, drinking the girls in as they lay side by side.  The girls took in the man’s massive cock.  They had been humped on by two young boys and a teenage boy and had to suck on the pee-pee of a BIG man; August, though, was a man not unlike their Daddies.
	‘Open your legs.’ August Minded to Carleen, the first Brownie girl who had come knock-knock-knocking at is door.  Licking his lips he smiled and got even a HARDER hard-on as the timid child opened her legs slowly.
 	Despite having a massive man-thing young Carleen felt very little discomfort as she was entered.  The man was gentle.  He took his time and was not like the boys, Tyler and Eric who had somewhat hurriedly “rushed” in to her sex and humped feverously.
	Carleen gripped the bedding, screwed up her sweet face, and felt the awesome strength of manhood driving into the depths of her sex.  The man then pulled out; his cock flopped against her delicate poon, the head dragging up and down her crevice before the head and some inches of shaft once more disappeared.
	It wouldn’t have been so bad if she had been alone, but there was an audience.  The boys who had firstly gotten on her, the fat man who had peed in her mouth (it was actually CUM but Carleen didn’t known the difference), and the teenage boy, some other girl, two women…
	August cupped Carleen’s ass, bringing her up some, getting the angle of the dangle thang going so as to make better entry.  But not all of his massive fuck stick was going to make it into her, but it was good just the same.  He took his time, was gentle, and when at least HALF his manhood was in her, he began to pump.
	Tyler and Eric stood by the bedside fondling themselves.
	Logan stood by them looking upon Carleen with a hunger…

	Holly was a little disgusted—she didn’t mind so much being ravaged herself, but had issues about her benefactor making it with them so young.  Heather had no negative thoughts about the matter—she didn’t see Carleen and Nellie as “young”.
	Doris on the other hand DID see Carleen and Nellie as they were, Eric and Tyler, too; and the hunky teen boy, Logan.  She stood nakedly and had been screwed by them all, wasn’t too keen on getting laid by fat man Ken, but the hearty cock of her kidnapper (that would be August the Second Moon) was okay.
	The first jut of cum squirted and coated Carleen’s interior pussy, the rest anointed the outside of her poon, shooting up her belly and chest.  August laid his pipe against her sore aching cunny and humped his fill.  Once exhausted, and how, he laid to one side, patted his rump beckoning Krista to come hither.
	Semi reluctantly the nude teen complied.  Her task was to suck clean August’s cock, then lap up the juices spilled on Carleen.  As she did so, Logan took the teen from behind.

	Little blond hair Nellie who had once had lovely pink panties with “stains” made noise as she was breeched by her kidnapper’s cock.  Unlike Carleen, Nellie was rolled over onto her stomach.  The nude man caressed her ass, kissing it, prying it open to diddle his tongue to her poop chute.  From there he slipped in a finger to her hole, it had been well probed by tongue and cock by all those around her—but still…
	Nellie fidgeted, fretted, and whimpered.  With her hips raised, August probed her backdoor with his cock, pushing in the head of his manhood with deliberate and forceful pressure.  Nellie fretted loudly and was smacked on the ass for her outburst.
	‘Suck my balls.’ August Minded to Holly.
	Holly sighed, she hated being so vulnerable but she had no choice but to comply.  She climbed onto the bed, twisted onto her back and took the man’s sweaty-musty nuggets into her mouth.
	‘Ken, g’head, fuck her!’
	Ken, unaware that his mind had been tapped, sidestepped over to open Holly’s legs, pull them up to along his chest—then his chubby chubster went sliding effortlessly into her cunny.

*

	Although he wasn’t IN a hole of one kind or another, just watching the antics of Carleen and Nellie got him off; the aforementioned girls grinded their cunnies together—this after both had been well scrogged on by August.  Carleen was on top of friend and fellow Brownie girl, Nellie; the girls had been instructed to rub their cunnies together, to hump and grind and enjoy a “scissor” hump.  All onlookers liked—a lot.
	Logan smiled BIG as he hand humped his cock watching the young girl Carleen grind her cunny against Nellie.  His eyes focused right on the girl’s ass, her hole, and oh so fuckable cunt.  
	‘Don’t waste it, son.’ came a voice to Logan’s mind.
	Logan nodded and moved onto the great bed; Carleen closed her eyes tight in anticipation.  Nellie pursed her lips and clung to her friend.  Logan pressed his teenhood against Carleen’s soft ass, squeezed the girl’s cheeks and began gliding his stiffy up and down the child’s crack—poking her hole.

	Try as he might he sought no “favorites” from the new bunch as he had with the old bunch (when he was traipsing about in the camper in the backwoods).  But, he did tend to like (enjoy) Brianna a little more than the others.  Holly would fall second with Krista right close behind.  Carleen and Nellie came last but were certainly not least.
	With Brianna sitting nicely on his lap, August was able to relax and contemplate the natural order of things—or something relatively close.  He had all but given up on the thought of his Destiny—not given up so much but as in the dwelling upon that of what he could not see.  His Destiny of whatever it was would be there when he got there.
	In the meantime—

Something wicked this way cums
	The doesn’t seem to be any particular reason, rhyme or otherwise, why some Subjects are chosen over others.  Whether it be by age, size, color, or other human characteristic doesn’t overly apply—nor does the location.  An accumulation of Points, some Security measures, but in newest Main Character’s (yea, another one) set values, it was Spur of the Moment—regardless of Security, location.
	Mostly Main Character Cameron Colter chose Subject was that the Main Subject was cute, young, slenderly built, and had parked her car quite aways away from the main throng.

	This was due in part that her “car” was a massive SUV; it was big, cumbersome, and no “fit” into the regular parking spots allocated for “normal” sized vehicles.  The supermarket had yet to keep up with the times to readily suit the larger vehicle population.
	So Michelle Weston had parked in a spot taking two spaces, the lot at the end was inundated with cast off shopping carts, broken pavement, and haphazardly parked employee cars.  She was a slender thing, size four, nice tight butt, jeans, simple blouse of white, healthy titties the size of small cantaloupes, reddish brown hair shoulder length, dainty earrings, small nose, nice butt.
	She was in her late twenties and seemed hurried, transferring a mountain of groceries from her cart to her oversized SUV—as well as caring for her four year old fussy daughter.
	For Cameron Colter (CC), it was the wee child he was more interested in than the nice butt of the mother.  So just as the last bag of groceries was lifted in, CC made his presence known.
	CC had a way about him; at first look, and even second, he would be regarded as one who Freud called “spooky”; deep set eyes, small forehead, unkempt dark hair; thin build (hip size 28 US); very white almost zombie-like complexion; no heart but a lot of balls.
	Cameron Colter had a way about him, a mysterious way that was enhanced slightly by electronic gadgetry.  But mostly it was his gile, his will, his spookiness—enhanced by electronic gadgetry.  By this means he slipped up to the distracted Mom who fussed with her fussy four year old.  She saw his shadow at the last moment—too late.  She whirled around in distress but was already at a disadvantage.
	“Hello,” he said almost smiling.  Michelle’s eyes were filled with horror, the spooky man was creepy, too.
	The next thing Michelle Weston knew was she was in chaos.  How she did not know, or even the WHY; the WHO she did know.  There seemed, though, little she could do about the situation, the strange creepy man had some sort of power over her—despite her myriad of EMAD detectors and preventors.
	She was in her SUV, the engine was on and the a/c on full blast.  Her mind was in a whirl as the strange creepy man lay on; the passenger seat she was in and it was pushed all the way back.  The strange creepy man leered at her, licking his lips and dripping with sweat.  Michelle trembled and tried to summon her strength to fight back, to scream, to kick, lash out, to do something.  

	“Shhhh,” cooed the strange creepy man, “behave, be still, be good.” He smiled and the smile was did nothing to soothe her.  “Be good,” he repeated, “and nothing bad will happen to…” 
	Michelle turned her head in the direction indicated by the creepy man’s coal dark eyes.  Marissa sat wriggling in her car seat.  Mother Michelle went ballistic.
	It did no good, the creepy strange man repeated his cooing, smiling with a sneer and reaching over to pat the leg of the little wriggling girl.  Michelle didn’t like in the least the man’s sneer, his face told her straight away that he was psychotic—dangerous—dangerously psychotic.
	“I-I’ll do anything, just don’t hurt my baby!” announced Michelle.
	The creepy man smiled, cracked his neck and began undoing his pants…

	Michelle herself with trembling hands undone her blouse.  A knot formed in her stomach and try as she might she could not summon up the strength to fight.  She could well enough SEE out the SUV’s windows, but they were heavily tinted—the price to pay for living in the Land of the Sun.  no one could see in.
	The creepy man ran his hands up and down Michelle’s sides, pushing away her blouse and squeezing her cantaloupe sized breasts, kneading them and tweaking the nipples as she still bore her bra.  Then down the sneering creepy man brought his hands to fumble about her jeans.
	“Please, please…” begged Michelle, she did not want to be raped, the knot in her stomach began to churn and she felt ill.  
	Michelle finally undone her own jeans, the creepy man pulling the flaps back and gawked at the pale pink panties therein.  He rubbed himself, gouging the heel of his hand to his crotch.  He asked no questions of her, no Q&A, no probing into her sexual past.  But that was okay, the strange creepy man wasn’t interested in the young mother’s past—the hear and now was good enough for him.
	Slowly he pushed Michelle’s jeans down, she was a size 26/34/26.  
	Marissa cried and squealed in her car seat, but she was fastened in good and unable to do much but squeal.  Michelle was in a fit and knew that she could only endure the assault and hoped that the creepy man would get his jollies and then go away.
	Not likely, but it was possible.
	Michelle tightened up, gripping the sides of the passenger seat as her jeans and panties were pushed down her legs.  She closed her eyes, tightened her neck muscles and waited.

	The creepy man lay on her, kneading her breasts, twisting her nipples as he grinded himself against her; her pants and panties were bunched up at her ankles.  Michelle struggled but was still overwhelmed and kept in line.  The creepy man began undoing his own pants, sliding them down.  She felt his member against her skin, right against her sex.  She had never been raped before and the assault sickened her.
	The creepy man worked off her pants and panties, “open yer legs  WIDE” he told her.  Michelle felt bile in her throat, her mind was clouding over and she felt the sudden presence of the man’s foul cock.
	“Oh God!” she cried out.
	The man leered at her, smiling with a Devil’s gleam, “look out,” he called, “something wicked this way CUMS!”
	Michelle shook her head, clenched her eyes tight and felt the awful presence of penetration.  Stamping her feet to the floorboard she hoped to send a signal to someone beyond…
	Cameron Colter stared down the young woman, she was 28 or so, very creamy skin, lovely eyes, and a nice butt.  Her poon, too, was nice, nice and tight.  He slithered in his manhood, worked it all around, pulled out to hump on the gash before restuffing himself within for a few minutes of serious thrusting.
	Michelle twisted about trying desperately NOT to enjoy being fucked.  She did love a good fuck, but not by someone she didn’t know.  The horrible creepy strange man had a sizable cock, more than her husband’s!  (whether or not she was getting laid by anyone ELSE was unknown…remember, no Q&A!)
	The creepy man humped, driving his cock DEEP into her cunny, gyrating about in a tantalizing manner before madly power thrusting the final few moments.
	Michelle’s eyes fluttered, her cunny convulsed, her nipples became pert and erect.  She wanted nothing more than to deny the sensual feelings she was experiencing—she wanted to scream, to rip the horrible man’s balls off—but there was this pesky feeling of sexual awe that made her think otherwise.  She was having an orgasm.
	It was unbelievable.  She pumped back into the horrible man hoping beyond hopes to cum just a little herself, just a little, to get it over with.  She knew that her clitty was being tormented, driven to the brink of orgasm and it was like trying to stave off peeing when you had to go so badly.  
	Creepy man did his all and creamed.

	He strained, arched his back and jutted his creepy love into the distraught mother.  Then he began to pump some more, trying to drive even DEEPER than he already was!
	Michelle twisted about trying her best not to enjoy being fucked so.
	The creepy man pulled out and emptied the rest of his love onto her poon and belly.  He licked his lips and continued to leer at her; it made her very uncomfortable.  She closed her eyes and waited…

	She didn’t have to wait long before the strange creepy man started moving about doing something else—which was producing a pair of fur lined handcuffs!
	Michelle gulped and grew very frightened.
	Then, before she knew it—she was cuffed, her hands cinched tightly together behind her.  She had no idea what was in store for her.
	The creepy man wrestled with her legs, pushing them up having her feet planted to the ceiling of the SUV.  He then did begin caressing her thighs, fingering her sopping wet cum stained cunt before working her asshole with his thumb—then came his fingers.
	Michelle didn’t go for being plugged in the butt.  She didn’t even let her husband take her there, it was nasty and gross.  When she fussed so, though, the creepy man smacked her thighs HARD.  It was difficult to let go and let the creepy strange man have his way with her—hole.  But she had no choice and the creepy strange man finger fucked her hole.
	Using all fingers the man reamed her rim and shoved his fingers into her very nearly ripping her.  It was almost more than she could stand.  But by that time the man’s cock had restiffened and he dramatically rammed himself into her backdoor.
	Michelle thought that she would come apart.
	The presence of his manhood in her pussy had been one thing (and that was something) but to be ramming nastily in her trap chute was something else all together.
	Eventually, though, by the time the horrible man was cumming off, the pain in her hole somewhat eased.  Somewhat.  There was no longer any sheer extreme pain, just sheer extreme discomfort.

	There was no strength in her, she was all but spent.  Every fiber in her being was exhausted; sharp shooting pains screamed up her legs, her back hurt, her pussy and asshole quaked with throbbing-smarting pain.

	She lay wallowing in agony, her mind all a blur; then, slowly she turned her head to watch in utter awe as the horrible-nasty-strange creepy man pulled down the panties of her precious four year old daughter.
	“NO!” Michelle screamed, but the words seemed stuck in her throat.  A river of sweat pooled into her eyes, her heart beat near out of her chest as she watched in absolute horror as the horrid man sniffed her daughter’s underwear.
	Little Marissa wriggled in her car seat, she had not been injured or harmed (physically) in any way, but the distress factor from her Mother caused her herself to become frightened beyond all measure.
	The creepy man licked the crotch of the child’s panties, then holding her young legs open placed his wicked tongue to her—licking her innocent poon to his delight.  And he did delight in it, driving his tongue all about the crevice, nuzzling the crack with his nose and drinking in the mustiness of her poon, her pee of fright.
	Beside them the Mother Michelle went crazy with rage.  A sharp stinging backhand swoop from the creepy man put the young woman into a hysterical fit—another backhand nearly took her out of the conscious world.  She was stunned and could only watch as the strange man continued his assault.
	Marissa was clad in a lovely blue checkerboard dress, with duckies and flowers all over, pockets containing crackers and melting candies along with crayons and hair ribbons.  The child was a cutey, lovely silky brown hair, brown eyes, chubby cheeks, a sweet smile, dainty nose.  Her hair was adorned with blue ribbons and she was very pretty.
	The creepy man began working the girl’s dress off, as he did so his manhood regained strength.  He tugged on his stiffy and undone the straps holding the child in her seat.
	Michelle languished in and out of consciousness, she had peed a great quantity of pee herself and lay in the pool of it.  When Marissa fussed too much, she was smacked on the ass.  The assault stunned the little girl and she was still.
	Michelle began to twitch, her eyes focused on her naked child and the near naked man; she saw his huge cum squirting cock shooting its load onto Marissa’s vagina, squirting up along her child’s body and then finally gobs were filling her little mouth.  The strange man fingered Marissa’s cunt, breaking her inside and finger fucking her to the extreme.  The head of his manhood pressed against her entrance and he delighted to his delight in his foul deed.

*

Wicked is as wicked does
	“Crusin’ down the highway in beefed up Nomad Chevy, hay-hay
	  Horny morning and its gonna be a horny day
	  The wheels are spinning
	  Girls are screaming
	  My cock is humming
	  Cum is squirting
	  Cruisin’ down the highway in a beefed up Nomad Chev-a.

	“You can hear a girl screaming from about a hundred miles away
	  (oooh—yeah!)
	  My big dick is reaming her hole the way, hey-hey!
	  Her titties are jostling
	  My cock is a johnson
	  We’re crusin’ down the highway fucking the world away.”

	There was something to having a “convertible”; the wind in your hair, fresh breeze, the open air, bugs in your teeth.  The thought of installing a sun/moon roof had crossed his mind, but never the time—he was always on the move; just when he had settled down—something came up and it was time to boogie onward.
	Beside him sat cockeyed Jane Korbett, fast asleep.  The passenger side window was down and the air rushing in thrashed her long auburn hair all about.  But so shagged out was she that she didn’t know.
	Beside her scrunched in the middle was her friend, Elaine.  The tall skinny girl woke up occasionally, squinted her eyes and looked all around at her new surroundings, farted, and then went back to sleep.
	In the middle seat was James and Brian, the boys were also well shagged out and probably wouldn’t awaken until morn.  Against them lay Jennifer who like Elaine awoke occasionally only to yawn, fart, and return to slumberland. 
	Occupying space in the rear of the Nomad was Jennifer Mother and brother, Katleen and Nathan.

	The Nomad’s lights pierced the darkness of the highway, the landscape to either side of the two-laner was desert, rugged backstretches far from civilization.  It was too hot a climate for minotaurs and even the pesky unexplainable green tornadoes that had suddenly taken up raging more and more throughout the nation.  Mack Nomad strove to head thru the Bad Lands and seek his Destiny there.
	Two others, Anna and Nolan were in the rear of the cramped Nomad, too.  Ice chests, bed rolls, prospector tools and equipment, tools for digging out of deep sand when the Nomad’s fat tires got bogged down, and a few boxes of various non-perishable foodstuffs also shared space with the Nomad’s crew.  Nine peoples, young peoples; acquired for no other reason than “just because”.  	
	It was a sickness he determined, a desire that was unquenchable.  But, be that as it may—
	Anna Meese and Nolan Thompson.
	Eleven year old Anna, happy-go-lucky, blond extra curly hair, small thin body with very little in the titty department, smiled and smiled often.  Very little got her down, she was very friendly and well liked by one and all.  
	Nolan Thompson was a tall geeky kid, no chest there, either.  He was somewhat reserved but outgoing when possible.  He was the object of some bullying due to his geek-status, being tall and lanky, extra curly brown hair, and somewhat shyness.
	Both Nolan and Anna had been surrounded by their schoolmates, this after winning a televised arcade championship where both won beaucoup prizes—most of which they donated back to their school—so that won them even higher praise(s).
	Part of the “praise” was the two arcade champions were treated to free pizza and arcade gaming at their local pizzeria/arcade shoppe.  Anna and Nolan were very popular.
	Their popularity was attractive—and caught the attention of another.
	As young Anna bounced about being giddy, her young breasts gave the Onlooker a stiffy.  The girl’s nipples were pert and she was not even aware of it.  Wearing a bright yellow top, a little tight but not overly so, it was tucked into her tight jeans.  She was an average-typical eleven year old, size and height and all that.  Happy-go-lucky, full of cheer, arcade game knowledge, and soda pop.  It was the soda pop that sent her from the throng of adoring masses to the restrooms.
	Young Nolan was full of pizza—he had to make the journey to the restrooms, too, located at the rear end of the pizza joint.  They never returned.

	By the restrooms was a store room.  Although their need to “go” was great, the two unsuspecting pre-teens were easily swayed to traipse thru the open store room and out the back door.  Although an alarm sounded, it wasn’t paid any attention due to the extreme noises and other sounds that sounded liked the backdoor alarm sound.
	By the time the store manager realized the backdoor alarm had “sounded” off, it was too late.  Anna and Nolan were long gone.

	Not that he had grown weary already of Jennifer and her family, it was just that he liked “variety”.  Anna and Nolan would add nicely to his variety, especially Anna.  And Nolan.  (and Jennifer, Nathan, their mother, Kathleen) and anyone else who fancied Mack’s notice.
	With Anna laid out in the middle seat, the introduction began.
	The day was warm, but the interior of the Nomad was cool, thanks to a more than adequate air conditioner.  (heavily tinted windows and extra insulation helped, too.)  The Jobber family occupied space in the rear of the Nomad, naked.  Nolan sat in the front seats, leaning over to watch.  Both newcomers were no longer in control of their own minds.  
	Anna lay on her stomach, her hands and feet were not bound and she could not figure out why she could not fight off her abductor.  She couldn’t cry out, either; nor could she do anything that would prevent the man pulling down her jeans…
	Nolan gulped, sweated, and felt ill as he watched the man he did not know pull down his friend’s pants.  It was a friendship only by association, he didn’t know the girl outside of the arcade gaming competition, they went to different schools and Nolan was year older, too.  He had no real strong feelings to Anna, he had known her all of two weeks.  True, she DID have a nice bod, but she was eleven—he wasn’t supposed to think of her in terms like that—not sexually.
	But she was cute.
	And he was in fear for her, he wouldn’t mind to see her in her underwear, or swimwear, or even nude!  But not in the manner of which was happening to her.  The man pulled the tight jeans down after reaching under her and undoing them, he straddled her legs and when she fussed too much, he smacked her butt and gruffly said, “Settle down!”
	Anna wept some but did “settle down.”
	The man pushed the girl’s pants down her legs revealing yellow panties.  The undies snugged up tight against the girl’s butt, Nolan instantly got wood…

	With her pants at her knees, the man began caressing her butt, squeezing the cheeks and slowly pulling the undies down.  Nolan stared and wanted to fondle himself, but there was still something within him upsetting him.  Slowly as Anna’s yellow panties came down Nolan began rubbing himself…
	Slowly Anna was turned over, her legs raised and her clothes rolled up to her feet; the man clamped her feet together and held her there for a few moments.  Nolan then noticed that the man’s penis was out, it was huge!  Nolan wanted to take his out, too, but didn’t think he should.
	Anna’s clothes came off and her left leg was pushed open so where as her left foot hooked over back of the front seat.  Her right leg went up along the middle seat and there she was…
	Nolan stared wide eyed at Anna’s poon.  It was incredible, it had some hair on it, but not much.  He had seen little girls naked, seen their little poons—but Anna wasn’t a little girl.  He had seen girls in their swimsuits and couldn’t hardly imagine what a girl his age or beyond looked like.
	Now he knew.
	His upper lip was sweating and he felt a stickiness in his shorts.
	Anna couldn’t help but fuss, when she did she was smacked on the thigh.  The man nestled up between her legs, gliding his penis up and down her sex, pressing the head into her with great deliverance.  Anna squealed, arching her back, mouth agape, the whole bit.
	Anna moaned and then as the piercing prong of the man’s dick invaded her most holy of holy, her face froze in the extreme shock.  Nolan stared in shocked awe himself.
	The man, though, didn’t make full vaginal penetration, just the head of his man-thang.  There was some blood on it just the same, he used the girl’s panties to clean her poon and wipe clean his cock.  He then lay his staff against the girl’s crack and humped.

	‘Would you like to take her?’
	The Voice boomed into his head almost drowning him.  The Voice startled him, too, if not frightened him.  His heart pulsed faster and the knot in his stomach continued to sicken him.  What he was thinking he couldn’t fathom, couldn’t conceive and definitely couldn’t believe.
	Anna was his friend…
	‘Take off your clothes.  All of them.  NOW!’
	Nolan struggled to understand the command, he wasn’t home—he wasn’t in his bedroom, not in his bathroom, not in the school gym.  Those were the only legit places that he “took off” his clothes.

	But slowly but surely down came his pants.  He fumbled with his pants and underwear getting them off his shoes.
	‘Take off your shoes, too.’ Dumbass
	Nolan paused a moment and then kicked off his shoes then proceeded with the removal of his clothing.  Once nude, he crawled over the seat and squatted nervously between the seats.  He tried to keep his eyes from the nearly nude Anna and the man’s massive cock.  Anna still wore her bright yellow top—the top and bra had been pushed up to expose her small titties.  Nolan had seen his Dad’s cock, but not when it was “stiff.”
	The man sat back, when Anna began to close her legs, she was smacked on the inside thigh.  “Keep ‘em open.” he said aloud.  Anna wept and Nolan was ushered “into place” by the man’s look and guidance by hand.  
	There was mixed feelings as Nolan cared for Anna, he didn’t want to see her hurt.  But he was, too, horny.  Desperately he wanted to know what it was like to FUCK.  Hand jobbing himself was one thing, actually sinking his prick into a girl’s cunny was something else all together.
	Being nude with a man who had his hard-on rubbing against his bare ass was also a bother.
	‘Get on her.’ the Voice said.
	Nolan gulped; closing his eyes made it slightly better, he didn’t have to look into her face, her eyes.  “I’m sorry.” he whispered to her as he laid down, his teenhood slowly breeching her cunny defenses.

*
	
The last laugh
	Jane & Elaine
	“Hold not thy laughter
	  Think of the cat who laughs
	  a purr not a chortle
	  a twitch of the whisker is all we see

	Hold not the laughter—a joyous sound I am after
	Surrounded by discontent where my soul hits the ground
	Hold not thy laughter from the background.”

	Surrounded by friends she seemed an inappropriate target, but then, so had Anna.  It was all in the timing.  And there were ways to set about adjusting that timing, one way or another.  For himself, he had time, he would wait.
	“Giggling and snorting would yet seem to baffle
	  All those who do not know you as you tirelessly cackle
	  Your joyous outward expressions give a jovial tune
	  Of your true innerself as a joyful jubilant loon.”

	Jiggling titties, firm and ripe.  Sandy brown hair pulled back to a loose flowing pony, slight bangs that concealed small pimples on the forehead; dainty earrings there were not too gauche; simple gray top supporting her school; tight jeans.
	She was a suitable target, a worthy subject.  Her attitude, too, seemed enchanting—it was her whole hearted laugh(ter) that was the draw—another happy-go-lucky child who was older (than Anna).   She had charm, natural charm, and poise, and a nice body.  She sat in the comfort of many friends, a special outing of fellow classmates—mostly girls, two teacher chaperones, and two private security personnel.  The setting was a very popular theme restaurant and it was very crowded (and noisy.)
	The teen had a laugh about her, almost non-stop.  The restaurant crowd so noisy, though, Mack Nomad could barely hear the boisterous group and little about whatever the heck the girl was laughing about!
	But she seemed contented and as Mack slowly devoured his own meal, he worked on the girl—the girl’s mind.  There were hang-ups with doing such a venture—the noise input for one and the girl’s extreme giddiness also foiled his Mind Link attempts.  
	“When wallowing aimlessly  in my gloom
	  It is your laughter that delivers me
	  Safely from my feted doom
	  Sadness runs amok outside my room
	  But there’s your smile and glee 
	  To greet me and make me and inside me glows with a boom
	  My face enlightens as my rosy cheeks merrily blossom”

	‘Bathroom—bathroom—bathroom’
	‘You gotta go to the bathroom—NOW!’
	the sentiment was repeated—and repeated—and repeated repeatedly.  Then, finally, after an hour of conveying via an electronic mind link, the Subject arose from the long table and made her way to the bathrooms.

	Whether or not on her own remained to be seen.
	Mack was just glad she was up from the rabble.  Slowly he watched the girl surreptitiously and then made his way to the cashier booth, which was on the way to the restrooms located down a hall to the left of the kitchen.  
	Being very mindful of the security guards and chaperones, Mack scooted along to the payphone boothing area that was right next to the bathrooms.  A small contingency force of patrons were at the phones, milling about, buying cigarettes (although you couldn’t smoke the ciggys IN the restaurant you could buy them…)
	And as the restaurant was full of customers, the bathrooms were “busy.”  
	‘buy another round, drink it down.’
	The big burly security fuck who could do well in the profession of football and/or wrestling cheerfully ordered another round of drinks from the sports bar that was centralized in the restaurant.  His companion was already getting soused and no longer a concern.
	The two chaperones had been “nipped.”  Neither one were of interest to Mack, his interest was in those they chaperoned.  And there were many to chose from, too—a smorgasbord if you will.  Mack had to sit quite a while to make his choosing, the girls ranged in age from twelve to fourteen—along with a few boys.  Twenty-two students in all from a middle school on a special outing for some achievement at their school.  
	‘Go out the side door.’ Mack Minded to Subject Jane.
	And as it happened, another followed suit!
	He had seen the girl and had been interested in her, too, but usually his Minding Powers were limited to One at a Time.  But Subject Two seemed to have the same brain wave pattern as that of Subject One, or something like that.
	Subject Two was skinny, tall and skinny, small butt, very small chest, reddish blond hair that was originally either RED or BLOND.  She was a good choice, too, and Mack figured he would have nabbed her as well, after Subject One.
	The girls were directed this way and that, around corners of the restaurant building, around bushes, the rear area of the restaurant and finally out to the hidden ’56 Nomad.
	An hour later and they were out of town.
	An hour after that and Mack pulled the Nomad off the road and out into the desert aways, up into some desert trees.  A couple of hours of daylight were left and the day was finally cooling.  

	Subject One, Jane Korbett, fourteen, of Harrietta Middle School, expressed her need to pee.  She seemed genuine with the crossing of her legs and the desperation etched on her face.  Subject Two, Elaine Kass, thirteen,  of the same school, expressed her desire, too—but had already done so.
	Mack stood outside of his vehicle, unleashing his manhood and letting it water the ground before pulling thru the special side window (Nomad cars had no secondary “middle” door and most came with a “fixed” window) Subject One.  
	Her mind was his.  The girl was scared but not to the extreme.  She was confused and that WAS to the extreme.  She was aware, very aware, that her jeans were being undone.  She was aware, too, that SHE was not done—not done up-bound but yet she could not fight off what was happening to her.  
	Down her slightly tan legs came her jeans.
	“Oh my God!” she breathed aloud.  She blinked her eyes excessively, sweated profusely and stood in utter shock and awe as down came her pants and to her bare legs came the man’s hands.  Up and down her legs, squeezing the flesh of her butt before slipping narly fingers inside her green tinted panties.
	Jane couldn’t speak, she felt ill, hot, and horribly violated.  But it was only the beginning.  The man had Jane sidestep, the passenger door if the car was opened and she was laid within—then her shoes were pulled off along with her pants.
	Still she couldn’t fight back.
	She could wipe the sweat from her eyes but nothing more.  Sitting up she saw the man with his pud out of his pants, Jane felt extremely ill—but also slightly curious—but not in the sexual sense (not yet.)  The man stroked his manhood, then squeezed it at the base and began masturbating.  Jane had seen “little” boys’ puds, AND had seen them (helped them) pee.  But not a boy her age or older, and certainly not a man.  She had seen her Daddy in his underwear but never nude.
	Health books, health magazines, tv shows, bathroom walls, tv newscasts, and a good imagination helped Jane ascertain the approximate appearance of a guy’s schlong.  Staring at her kidnapper’s “schlong” Jane knew the health books, health magazines, tv shows, bathroom walls, etc., left a little to be desired.  
	The man turned to Jane, she tried to fight back, she thought that she was—kicking, screaming, lashing out, doing all the things she was supposed to do under the circumstances.  But it was all in her mind.

	Down her legs came her panties, the man cast them into the car’s interior then pulled the frightened confused girl out, having her stand straight once she was out.  
	The sand ‘neath her feet was warm, not hot, but very warm.  She crinkled her toes and fidgeted in place.  She knew that she was going to be raped, she feared being brutalized and wondered haphazardly if she would be killed?
	The man pulled off her shirt and then her bra.  She now stood out in the open (somewhere) naked.  The last fleeting rays of the Summer sun baked her bare skin, she was still in fear and felt her stomach churning.  What was the man doing?
	Jane’s eyes cast down just as the urine stream from the man’s penis began showering her.  His anointing whiz splashed against her belly at first but then was angled and directed to her cunny.
	‘Open your legs.’ a Voice came to her mind.
	Timidly and with great trepidation she complied.  A heavy dose of urine doused her cunny—then the man stepped up to her and embraced.  Up and down her bare backside that was getting cooked by the sun—the man’s hands began a steady embrace of her ass, squeezing each cheek and then probing into her crack—diddling her hole.
	Jane was greatly taken as she seldom did so herself—her “hole” was for going to the bathroom only and occasionally she fingered when it itched or needed cleaning while bathing.
	Suddenly she became aware of the man’s cock pressing hard against her.  Her breasts, too, were pressed against the man and before she knew he was kneading her breasts, they were of ample size and seemed to please the man—he spent several minutes squeezing them.
	Just as the sun set, the “squeezing” was done and Jane was maneuvered to the front seat of the car.  She knew what was to happen—it was all too clear and she was in fear.
	‘Do you finger yourself?’ she was asked in her mind.
	Finger?  Herself? She didn’t get it.  Then, 
	‘Oh, yeah, yes, yes.’ In the shower (at home), in her bed, and sometimes while on the toilet.
	‘Virgin?’
	‘Hell yes!’
	‘Want to get laid?’
	‘No, maybe, not sure.’

	A few teen boys came to mind, two were extreme possibles and if they wanted to she might let them (fuck her.)  but mostly she was in fear of getting pregnant.  Her parents would freak.  And, too, she wasn’t ready—even if the boy put a condom on, there was no 100 percent assurance that she wouldn’t come up pregnant in the following months after.
	‘Give head?  Hand jobs?’
	No and no.
	She hadn’t been felt up (or out) either.  She wasn’t a prude but she was fourteen and due to the outrageous sexual deploration so rampant in modern day society, Jane hoped to hold off any sexual activity until she was at least in high school.  She WAS curious about “getting laid”, but the thought of sucking off a boy’s dick was kinda gross.  She had no interest in getting poked in the ass by a boy’s dick, either.  As for a hand job, it had never come up…

	Blankly she stared up to the green vinyl button tuck ceiling of the car, warm draft breezes blew across her nude body, her mind was in turmoil but there was nothing to grab on to.  Slowly, though, she became aware of something—for a while she couldn’t grasp it, either, but then she did.
	Pressing down upon her was a man, at first he was a stranger, a mere stranger.  Then, he became more concrete—she didn’t know his name but his face—his face was familiar.  She didn’t know him but yet…
	There was a slight pressure against her—no, IN her.  It was unfamiliar—in a way, it was natural instinct of being a woman (near woman).  She was being made love to.  
	It was unconscionable.  Inconceivable.  Unfuckingbelievable!
	There was some noticeable discomforting unpleasantness but it seemed more tolerable than she expected.  Her legs were sore, right at the crotch area; one leg was cast up along the front seat, the other braced up along the dashboard.  The man making love to her lay on her, somewhat squeezing and almost smothering her.  But he raised up and drove his wickedness into her sex during the final fury.
	“Hold not your laughter when we cheerfully chat
	 Hold not your laughter when we publicly fart
	 Hold not your laughter whatever the season
	 Don’t hold it in for whatever reason
	 Let it out, let it go on a whim of a tat
	 Fill the air, laugh it out before it falls flat!”

Elaine 
	Tall and skinny was Elaine, kind of reserved with a dabbling of shyness.  But she was friendly.  Awkward, but friendly.  She was athletic, pitched softball and tried for basketball—but was too clumsy for that particular sport.  She was basically well liked and was not sexually attractive to most—although hard up boys checked her butt just the same.
	She was a virgin.  D-uh!  And at the tender age of thirteen she was just beginning to “finger” herself.  She was a farter, but kept that boisterous explosion to herself.  And just a few months into her thirteenth year she had begun her Monthly Curse.  It disgusted her, she wasn’t into blood and the doings unto her cunny grossed her out.
	Like Jane, she had seen little boys naked, seen crude drawings on the bathroom walls (of a guy’s penis), the various health books, and various other school authorized and home authorized viewings of male anatomy.  Elaine, though, gave very little thought to the Boy Parts; she didn’t think of sex, sex acts, sex positions, or none of that stuff.
	The girl was skinny, very skinny.  There were small knobby titties on her lily white chest, small mounds that an average man hand could cover.  She looked overall underfed, hollow.  But she had a hearty appetite just the same, had energy and energy to spare.  She was good natured but sometimes took offense to those who pointed out how skinny and lanky she was.
	Jane’s eyes bulged near out of their sockets as she watched the Man’s cock disappearing into Elaine’s cunt.  The tall skinny thirteen year old lay out on the front seat, her clothes cast off onto the desert sand; Jane sat scrunched up in the front seat, Elaine’s head nestled against her fresh fucked poon.  Elaine twisted and fussed—when she did she was smacked HARD at the thighs.  She spread open her legs and endured the penetration.
	‘Come up, sit on her face.’ Jane was told (in her mind.)
	Jane licked her lips and digested the command.  She looked down to the tormented Elaine and tried to comprehend the command.  The Man tugged her forward, “SIT!” he said aloud.  Jane squatted, sitting on Elaine’s face.
	‘Lick her pussy.’ Elaine was told.
	Elaine couldn’t follow thru, she was too horrified and confused.
	‘Finger yourself.’ Jane was told.
	Jane blinked her eyes and felt somewhat sickened; a warm desert breeze kissed her face and the image of “fingering” came to her mind.  She knew what it meant and slowly she began doing so.  Her pretty brown eyes returned to the Man’s cock—almost half of it was pumping into Elaine’s pussy.
But wait!  There’s more!
	James & Brian
	When you are alone you pretty much think you can do anything and no one will know it.  Pretty much.  But in the days of electronic contraptions of various sorts, yer never alone as you think you are.  Case in point, James Lorren and Brian Heath.  Two thirteen year old boys out gallivanting in in a large desert-meadow just beyond their homes.  It was both a desert that had once been a meadow—remnants of both were still prevalent and it was dicey on which landscape was going to prevail.
	There were hills, small valleys, LARGE hills, caves, abandoned mines, railroad tracks, and all sorts of things to interest two young growing adventurous lads.
	It was while adventuring their lives changed.
	After climbing over some abandoned mine equipment young lad James stood atop the old rusting equipment, whipped out his schlong and began peeing from where he stood.  His companion laughed at him and James nearly “wetted” him.
	‘Push your pants down.’
	A dark Voice invaded James’ mind.  He looked around, glanced quickly at his EMAD detector his mother had insisted he wear at all times, even to bed.  The detector detected nothing.  James shook his head, scratched his balls and finished up his pee.
	‘PUSH DOWN YOUR PANTS!’
	The Voice was louder and more forceful.  And this time, James couldn’t so easily dismiss it.  He found himself pushing down his gray corduroys—followed by his underwear.
	“DUDE!” called up his friend wandering below the ancient earth mover, “What up!?”
	James couldn’t answer.  He made a nervous shrug and began “caressing” his ass.
	‘He’s got a nice ass, don’t he?’
	“What?  Huh?  Who the fu--”
	‘Easy now, laddy,’ said a Voice with more umph, ‘lookit his ass, watch him rub it.’
	Brian felt a slight wave of panic fill him, surging recklessly throughout his young body.  Then,
	‘take yer pants down.’

	There was no way Brain was going to do that, he somewhat knew what was happening, it was confusing and he wasn’t one hundred percent sure for certain, but guessed quickly that someone with an EMAD was upon them.
	Then, before he knew it—his pants were down.  He became aware when the Summer’s day sun suddenly warmed his bare flesh as he was standing back up from lowering his jeans.  ‘holy shit!’ he breathed to himself.  Glancing back up to where James was still standing on the sieve machine, James was “bent over” cheeks spread…

*

	The sweet smell of wildflowers and herbs drifted aimlessly along sullen air; birds in nearby trees chirped relentlessly; in the distance a dog was barking; concealed by rusting ancient mining equipment two thirteen year old boys stood nude facing one another, their harden peters touching.
	‘rub his ass.’ And although the concept of “rubbing his ass” was horrendous and never on their own would they do so, James Lorren rubbed his best friend Brian Heath—in turn, Brian rubbed James.  And despite the horrendous act, the boys’ dongs grew even stiffer!
	After much ado about embracing—ass rubbing, other things came into play:  ‘you like fondling your friend’s cock.’ followed by:  ‘you like caressing your friend’s ass.’ along with:  ‘you like kissing your friend—tongue in the mouth.’
	The Voice in their heads continued, repeating phrases and deeply planting acts and actions, like:  ‘you like stroking your friend’s cock; you like to have him pee on you; you like your friend’s cock in your mouth—you love to suck his cock, lick his balls, and put your nose into his hole.’
	‘You like it when your friend puts his cock up your ass; you like watching your friend cum on your cock—and then go down and suck your cock clean.  You LOVE shoving your dick up your friend’s ass and after you cum in his hole you LOVE licking his cream filled shitter clean!’
	‘You love being naked with your friend, to roll around in the nude, cumming and peeing on each other.  You will do anything you are told WHEN you are told to do it.  You love your Daddy Mack, you love sucking his cock and balls.  For your Daddy Mack you’ll gladly spread your cheeks to receive him anytime he wants.’
	The boys clung to one another as the stood in the fleeting rays of the afternoon, their past seeping away as their urine puddle in the desert sand…