August Moone Sagas
Book 7
Shadows of Moons
Chapter 21
More Cum Stories

The Spree
	The Neese family would never be the same, nor the unfortunate friends who had been present, too.  Sandy Neese, the mother, for sure would never be the same; her family and their friends sexually molested, forced into sexual horrors with one another and then molested themselves by the Intruders.
	The Intruders.
	A pair of them.
	A man and a woman.
	The man was wild, had wild eyes and seemed to have just stepped out of a mental institution.  Lean, hallow cheeks, tall, thin build, dark unkempt hair, and strangely reeked of pine trees!
	The woman was equally strange, but describing her was difficult as nothing about her really struck out—she was not as tall as the male intruder; had very tan skin, long dark hair that was silk-like, 36Cs breasts, and had an insatiable cunt.
	After eldest daughter Pam had taken a ride on her mother’s face, she was buggered by the male intruder.  Spanked bare handed and then while still positioned on her Mom’s body, her cunt on her Mom’s face, the male intruder applied a skillet to spank her ass—a heated skillet!
	Pam went wild with pain and agony, her face buried into her Mom’s cunt.  After a few swats, though, the skillet was returned to the stove and brother Paul came to fill his sister’s cornhole.  Followed by Paul’s friend, Bill.  Tortured younger brother, Lonnie, got his cock into his big sister’s poop chute, too.  He pumped vigorously so much that he enjoyed the deed—forgetting how much his testicles had been mangled by the vamp.
	When he pulled out, the “vamp” took his cock and sucked him clean.
	She had done the same to Paul and Bill.
	She then licked clean Pam’s asshole.
	Using the butcher knife that had been held at the slit of little family friend Carlie, Pam watched up close and personal as her Mom’s pussy was shaven clean.  The vamp then led Paul over to the clean cunt, he was instructed to fuck.
	The boy tried to hold back and not sink his bone into his Mom’s twat, but a compelling overwhelming “force” forced him.  His sister nearly hurled.  Paul was beside himself as he sank his cock into her Mom’s cunt; the super heated skillet was applied in quick fashion to his ass, repeatedly by the vamp.
	Finally the boy got into the deed and began to pump with much vigor and vim.  The skillet was returned to the stove to re-heat.  Billy standing by watching the horrid antics knew what was next…
	And he was right.
	After Paul had cum in his Mother, and took a moment longer to fully enjoy and then recover, pull out and squirt a little more of his juices onto her bald beaver, it was Bill’s turn.
	The vamp sucked his cock, his balls, and fingered his asshole; then guided him into place.  While Bill sank his cock into his best friend’s Mother, the vamp sucked on Paul’s cock.
	When Bill entered into that realm of uncontrollable pumping, his bare lily white ass received a few hard smacks from the aluminum 10-inch skillet.  The boy screamed and wavered on the line of enjoying a good fuck as well as being horribly tortured.
	Young Lonnie got his, too.

	Sandy Neese remained on the table, her daughter Pam laying beside her on her back.  The two held hands and endured the continuing intrusion.  It was far from over.  Pam received her brothers and Billy, too.	Each boy took a little longer to cum but they eventually did so.  The vamp smacked their asses with the heated and reheated skillet, clutched their balls, and shoved a finger as far as possible into their asshole.
	By then neither Mother or daughter were in their minds.  The nude wild-crazed man who smelled strangely of pine trees took his turn, mounting the Mother firstly.  But he didn’t cum in her pussy; when the pivotal moment was upon him he pulled out of her sore aching cum laden cunt and crawled up her body, ejaculating his love cream onto her mouth.
	How much time elapsed before he did the same thing to Pamela wasn’t clear, none of the family members had any clear information.  All would never-ever be the same again.
	And it was still not over.
*
Reflections
	Before the Neese Family, before the Russel Family, and before the Mission Family, Cameron Colter had wandered onto the Masson Family.  A quaint home with a white picket fence surrounding the well manicured front lawn.  Adorning the lawn were old benches and chairs, a water fountain feature, flowers, lawn ornaments.  A winding stone path wound its way to the quaint home of Masson, off-white with green trim.  An older home but well maintained, lots of plants and watering cans that were decorated, painted, and not for actual watering use.
	A quaint home that was actually home to one—69 year old Melinda Masson.  She wore a denim dress, not for a religion but for gardening.  She moved about the perimeter of her yard trimming bushes.  A host of gladiolas, hollyhocks, and roses lined the fence; she wore a sun hat with a green visor and seemed very healthy for a woman of her advanced hears.
	And she would have been passed over had it not been for the arrival of her granddaughter.  The hidden onlooker was about to make his move along when a mini station wagon pulled up out front of the quaint house.  In the area there were actually few homes, they were set on large tracts of land so the homes and those who dwelled within had a bountiful amount of privacy.
	There were great trees and shrubs all along the wide street, it was a cut of Americana undisturbed by the horror that went on beyond it.  The few residents in the semi remote locale hoped their way of life would be preserved.
	Oh well—so much for that thinking…

	The little girl who bounded out of the car was cute.  A short-short light blue denim kiddie dress fashioned in the style of overalls.  Various types of flowers were stitched on the pockets; there was a matching hat with matching stitched flowers on it, too.
	The little girl was about six.  She ran to her grandmother who received her with open arms.  They embraced and hugged and during the hug the grandmother somewhat held her granddaughter up—revealing the child’s green cotton panties.
	The in-hiding leach flared his nostrils, narrowed his eyes and began contemplating.  The grandma, too, patted the little girl’s butt further enticing the insidious demon.  The little girl’s mother came thru the front gate that was an arbor-arch totally encased in trailing roses.  The two women hugged and held hands; a brief chat there was before the mother of the blond haired little girl dropped a small overnite suitcase.

	The two hugged again and the little girl hugged her mother.  Another love pat to the child’s butt and the mother left.  The grandmother hugged her little granddaughter again, tighter, unknowingly continuously enticing her unseen onlooker as the little girl’s dress was pulled up again revealing the kiddie panties.
	The grandmother picked up the small kid suitcase and hand in hand with her granddaughter went inside the quaint home.  The In-hiding demon Cameron narrowed his eyes, flared his nose and contemplated.

*

	“I’m looking for 3030 Westin Ave?”
	Before the delivery driver could answer, or as he was in the process of doing so—a blade invaded his throat in such a quick fashion he actually never saw it happen.  Quickly he was pushed further inside his big delivery van truck.  The man gurgled on his blood and his life ended quickly.  His clothing was stripped from his body along with his testicles.
	The bloodied blade was licked clean then returned to its sheath.  The bloodied body of the hapless unwary driver lay still, naked, and nutless.  A moment was taken before the crazed Cameron took precious time to undo a shipping box, re-address it, and place within it the freshly severed testicles.  Cameron smiled and wished he could be at his former doctor’s desk when he opened the package…
	He knew then that he would snip the balls off everyone he met; testicles from men and boys, nipples and clits from the females—and ship them to his insane doctor whose only prescription for reforming sexual deviants was to snip their balls off.  Castration.
	The stench in the back of the delivery van truck snapped Cameron to his awareness—how long he had sat there thinking he didn’t know; long enough for the body of the delivery driver to stink!
	Slowly he drove down Cumerbland Lane and pulled up to the quaint home of Melinda Masson.  Cameron scribbled neatly on a package, removing the FROM from the corner.  It was a heavy package and there was no indication at all of what was inside.  
	“Good afternoon, M’am,” the delivery man said cheerfully tipping his hat and smiling, “I have a package for a Miss Melinda Masson?”
	“Oh, goodness, that’s me!” cheered the unsuspecting woman.
	“I wonder what it is?” then, “Who’s it from?”
	“I guess it’s a secret admirer?” the delivery man chortled.  “I get a lot of those, whoever sends the package wants to be anonymous until the package is opened.”
	“I wonder what the occasion is?” she went on as she signed her name to the delivery driver’s electronic manifest gadget.
	The little blond haired girl was at her grandmother’s side; she was shy, sucking on a candy, and very pretty.  
	“Uh, M’am, it’s against policy, but may I get a glass of water?”
	“Oh, certainly!” she said cheerfully and stepped inside and off to the kitchen which was right off to the left of the front door.  The little girl trotted after her.
	The delivery driver “helped himself” by coming in.
	“Whew!” he said, “It’s getting awfully hot out there.”
	Now the old woman was a little more reserved in her friendliness; she fetched a glass of water for the man and as she sat the package down her eyes caught the man’s uniform.  There was blood on the collar and the look in the man’s eyes suddenly frightened her.
	Melinda began to stammer and become frightened—she tried sidestepping around the man inching close to her telephone but also pushing her granddaughter protectively behind her.
	The delivery driver swallowed his drink in one gulp, then turned to Melinda, “Unt-unt-ah!” he smiled a Devil’s grin.

	The blade kept her attention; the man’s eyes unnerved her and made her very emotional.  “Please, please don’t hurt us!”
	The little girl not knowing the danger she was in began to cry.  She clung to her grandmother and fretted so.
	The delivery driver with what looked like fresh blood on his collar smiled a wicked smile and granny felt her bowels loosen.  
	“Do you have some tape?”
	“Tape?”
	There was duct tape in a basket of household tools in the laundry room, which was out of the kitchen on the back porch.  The kitchen was smaller but with modern conveniences—‘cept for the 1940 stove with the warming fold down tray.  When Melinda stepped around to go fetch the duct tape, he grabbed the little girl by the shoulder and held her firm.
	She peed herself instantly.
	Melinda went frantic but was calmed by the crazed man, telling her all would be well so long as she (Melinda) did as told.  Melinda fetched the duct tape and then secured her granddaughters hands and feet.

	The little girl was then laid out on the nice comfy sofa in the small living room.  Melinda was taken back into the kitchen where the words she heard were words she had never heard before in the same sentence.
	“Strip naked.”
	Melinda nearly lost her breath.
	“Get naked or your little granddaughter will taste my blade.”
	Among other things…
	Melinda was in a dire panic and could barely concentrate.  She wept some and was in sheer fright—for herself as well as her innocent grandchild.  But somehow she managed to “strip naked” and stood up as straight as she could.
	For sixty-nine years young she wasn’t bad.  Her tits hung down but that was normal.  Her pussy was gray, trimmed neatly and not out of control.  She still wore a wedding band and had been alone since her Alvin had died ten years earlier.
	The crazed man plucked the picture of Alvin from the wall, a not too tall man in an Army uniform standing by a B-52.
	“You ever whistle his tube steak?”
	Melinda had no idea what he was referring to.
	Not until he dropped his pants.
	He wore no underwear and his “manhood” was right there for her to gawk at.  It was long, hung to the left, and pulsed.  Curiously, there seemed to be a lack of testicles attached…
	Hmmmmm

	The noise of the ice maker in the freezer was the only distraction; and there, too, was the occasional whimper from the child in the other room.  The tick-tick-tick of the cat clock whose eyes moved opposite its swinging tail below the clock distracted the delivery who stood nude in the Masson family kitchen.  His cock was buried to the hilt in the mouth of Melinda Masson—his hands behind her head forcing her to indulge and engulf the whole thang.
	At length he pulled out and humped her face, a face fuck.
	Melinda was appalled.
	But there was more appalling things to cum that were worse than a face fuck.  Much worse.  The woman heaved and retched and felt very ill as the taste of penis lingered in her mouth.  The nude man pulled her up and positioned her across her wooden dinning table.  Her ass was slapped and then her legs smacked—she had to spread her legs and prepare to receive what she hadn’t received since her Alvin died.

	Ten years and then some since dick had traveled in her cunt.  Alvin had been awfully sick in his last years and Melinda guessed it had been twenty years since she had been screwed—which was what the bastard crazy man raping her wanted to know.
	As he slammed his prick into her dry cunt he fondled her breasts, tweaked her nipples and drove the old woman into a frenzy.  It was rape, it was sexual assault, she was a true woman who only had been laid a few times with her Alvin and then a couple of boys during her teen years.  But sex was sex.  There was no denying the pleasures brought on by a powerful schlong slamming masterfully into her cunny.
	The crazed nude man had ignited a fire.
	A fire of which Melinda denied; she had to—it was rape, forcible rape and she had to quell its tempting temptations.  She quivered all over and her mind began to black out.  The crazed man ploughed her ancient cunny until there was a blast off.
	Despite the lack of testicles, the crazed man was capable of orgasm and shooting spunk.  A series of “surgeries” had corrected the need to perpetuate his species should he be so inclined to do so—but he had no scrotum per se, he had been castrated by order of the mental institute.  
	After cumming into the tunnel of gray the crazed man helped himself to another glass of water, then gnawed on an apple.  Melinda had slumped to the floor and lay in a crumbled heap.

	The little girl had been sleeping.  But even at six she knew when someone was present.  She woke up and was a little groggy.  That cleared when the presence of the nude delivery man was before her.  She squealed but that didn’t bother the crazed man, he merely smiled and wrestled the girl on the sofa, slapping her face with a force so hard she was stunned instantly.
	The mark left on her sweet little face would last indelibly.  She didn’t shake, tremble, or even shudder.  Her eyes of fantastic blue were wide with fear as she was pulled to where her ass was on the edge of the sofa cushion.  The small coffee table before the sofa had been moved out of the way so as the nude crazed man could have freedom of movement.
	The little girl’s legs were hoisted up, secured by duct tape at the ankles.  She had peed herself good.  The crazed man liked and placed his face right to her pissy crotch and began licking, lapping, and nipping.  Little Hanna freaked.

	Once more an indelible mark was left on her ass cheek.  Once more she was stunned into utter compliance.  The crazed man engulfed her cunny, sucking her thru her pissed in panties.  His tongue so forceful he was pushing into her very virgin cunt.
	With flicks of his tongue he was inside the crotch of her panties licking her wetted skin.  The girl fussed and farted.  The crazed man was incited and began virtually biting the girl’s pussy!  He was like a ravenous wolf!  Soon the duct tape was ripped from her ankles, her legs splayed apart and the ravenous crazed man devouring her young cunny—with her wet panties still on.

	Melinda stirred from where she was on the kitchen floor.  Her mind was a jumble and nothing made since.  She felt horribly ill, flush, and a taste in her mouth was horrible.  Suddenly the realization that she was nude brought the image of the crazed delivery driver to her mind.
	She was still not capable of moving fastly, she stumbled to stand, fell and nearly knocked herself out toppling the hall nightstand.  The table lamp that had been on it shattered and she cut her hand as she tried to steady herself.  She crawled partly to the living room and stood up on her knees.  The scene in her living room caused her to immediately vomit.  There was no rage, no outburst of chastising—just a flury of vomit.  She then passed out.
	On the sofa her six year old granddaughter Hanna was nude, her legs apart and she was being raped by the delivery man.  He wasn’t “rough” with her but he was deliberate and determined.  Not all of his wicked cock was in her; the head and an inch.  But it was enough to break the child’s cunny.  The crazed mental patient drove a little further into her cunny, pulling out to hump hard against her bloodied slit.
	When at his hardest Hanna’s legs were pushed back doubling her young body—the man’s cock then drove relentlessly into her asshole.  She screamed but her screams were quashed by a pillow smothering her face.  The crazed insidious man drove as deep as he could, ripping the asshole he fucked before he finally was able to unleash a massive wad of cum.

And before that…
	He liked flowers, he liked to paint, he liked to paint flowers.
	Father Tom took care of the flowers that bordered the school and church.  He was meticulous and scolded many a child who trampled the flowers in their hurry to cut across the lawn and make for their class before the bell.

	Young Cameron Colter was one such lad who tempted fate by traipsing across the lawn tramping a few marigolds.  As he clamored onto the brick walkway to the kindergarten classes he barreled headlong into Father Tom.
	Father Tom took the boy by the ear hauling him into a private study used by the priests, nuns, and teachers.  Then into the private study’s bathroom where Cameron’s short pants were yanked down followed by his underwear.  Clamped tightly against the tall foreboding priest Cameron was punished.
	When his bare ass could no longer endure the bare hand spanking he was positioned over a toilet.  The first time, the second time, and some times thereafter young Cameron didn’t recall the abuse, but as he grew older and Father Tom took him to the bathroom—he did remember.  Repeatedly he was sodomized—roughly, too.
	A few times a month the Father would come and find him; in a classroom, in the lunch room, study room, on the playground.  When he complained and tried to refuse to go ‘cause he knew what was coming (up his six year old ass) he was jerked against the priest, his pants and underwear jerked down and beaten in front of his young friends and other students of various ages.
	When he was eight he told a nun what was happening.
	The nun seemed to be on his side and took the boy down the school hall and to Father Tom’s office.  She confronted the priest with what young Cameron was saying.  The priest came angrily around his desk and once more yanked down the boy’s pants and underwear.
	Sister Bridget held the boy across the desk while Father Tom firstly beat him with a yard stick and then sodomized him.  When he cried out Sister Bridget smacked his ass with the yard stick.
	When he was ten he was in a fight with some other boys.  Father Tom to the rescue!  

	Another incident had young Cameron in a private room.  Father Tom was present.  Young Cameron was going up for a special and prominent position and he needed special instruction.
	And Father Tom was the one who was in charge of such training.
	Naturally!
	After some trivial studying of Scripture it was time for the “dress” rehearsal—which was to completely undress to properly prepare for the right way to dress in the robes and such for to carry the candles (and such.)

	And it was Father Tom who stripped the boy down.
	Once nude he was fondled, fingered, fondled, and sucked.
	When his cock was hard Father Tom stood and produced his own hard-on.  Up until then, young Cameron had only been pegged in the ass.  Father Tom gently guided his prong into Cam’s mouth.  When he fussed, he was wrenched across a desk and beaten until he cried out,
	“Alright, alright, God damn it, I’ll suck it, I’ll suck it!”
	Father Tom beat his ass even more, harder, for the boy’s misuse of the Holy name.  So tormented, though, was Cameron he really had no idea that a manthing was in his mouth.
	When the pain in his tenderized ass began to cool down, Cameron discovered that there were three other boys in the room, one girl, and Sister Bridget, too.  Cam was a little embarrassed and still sobbed some uncontrollably.  He stood on wobbly legs, his penis and testicles tingling, his ass burning.  The other boys were a year or so older, the girl about twelve.  Cam knew them, they were all alter persons.  
	The other boys, and girl, shed their clothes.  Cam watched them as one by one they stripped to their skin slowly.  Cam had never seen a girl nude and twelve year old Shelly Balong was nice.  Unknowingly he got a boner staring at her.
	For that he was bent over with his mouth full of priest cock, his asshole full of alter boy cock.  One by one the other boys came to him and sodomized him.  The first boy was quick and was In and Out in under a minute.  The second boy was rough and humped the ten year old’s asshole with great emphasis on administering discomfort.
	The third boy took his time and went as long as five minutes before unleashing his torrent of sperm.  In Cam’s mouth Father Tom had done likewise.
	Then there was Shelly.  At first Cam didn’t know what was going on, but with a look behind him he saw her—her face in his ass licking his hole!  At first he was disgusted—very disgusted to the point of being grossed out.  Then, as her hands rubbed his ass and even came around to play with his penis, he got kind of curiously horny.
	When he stood up, Father Tom went down on him (again.)
	Meanwhile, Shelly sucked on the hard dongs of the other boys.
	Each boy creamed into her mouth and she swallowed all of the spillage.  The girl then laid out on her back on the desk, her legs pushed back—Sister Bridget with her infamous yard stick began spanking the girl’s pussy!  

	When the girl began to cry out in her anguish the boys came one by one licking her cunt.  Cam got his turn, too.  Then each boy put his boyhood into the girl’s poon and fucked.  Once more, the first boy was in and out in under a minute, a huge amount of jiz squirting all over (and inside) her pussy.  The second boy was once more a rough fucker, his cock slipped out a couple of times and he seemed to have trouble cumming off—so he jammed his rod into the girl’s asshole and creamed there.
	The third boy took all of five minutes before unloading his sticky love.  Cam took his turn and it was his first—first to cum and first to fuck a pussy.  He liked it—a lot.
	And because he liked it—he got his ass beat.
	All the boys took turns whipping him with their hands and then the yard stick.  They stood over him urinating on him—including Shelly who squatted over his face and let go a massive bladder load.  Meanwhile she sucked on the cocks of the boys and her priest.

	Cameron was expelled from the private Catholic school for raping a young boy a year later.  He had no parents and no relatives so he was shipped to another school of only boys.  There, two priests took turns raping him, torturing him with pulling on his pud until the skin was nearly ripped off.  Clips were attached to his testicle sac with a large candle shoved into his anus.  For hours at a time he had to stand with his arms out holding Bible books in his hands, palms up.  If one book fell to the cobblestoned floor—he was to be beaten until he lost consciousness.
	He dropped the books twice—and was beaten until he did fall unconscious.  When he awoke, he wasn’t allow to wear clothes and when in class he had to stand in front of the other students for his studies the entire two hours of instruction.
	When he was 15 he and three other boys somewhat like him forcibly raped a pre-teen boy.  Their discipline for that was solitary confinement.  During which time they themselves were raped repeatedly with either a priestly cock or a candle—sometimes both!

**

Blank spots
	There were blank spots in his memory, self induced or otherwise.  Some memories surfaced and he had no precise time line for when they happened or even where.  Not that it really particularly mattered.  Here’s another for you to enjoy…

	Mental abilities.
	When and where and how Cameron Colter had obtained extraordinary mental powers similar to an EMAD he didn’t know.  Had he had them all his life?  Had they been pressed upon him by some other means unknown to him?
	There were no answers.  
	There was only Cameron.
	And one day this strange-crazed-wild-possibly psychotic man came upon a home that took his interest.  Not the home itself, but its three occupants.  Two of the occupants were males, boys.  They were approx. ten years young.  The occupant was female, girl who was approx. seven years or so.  She was also the sister of one of the boys.
	Hmmm, I wonder what’s going to happen here?

	The boys were in the kitchen with one whipping up a serving of microwavable snacks.  The boy who lived there had just placed the snacks on a plate and served himself and friend when the girl came bounding in; she plopped herself down in a chair at the table, “Me, too, please!” she announced.
	It infuriated her brother but she wasn’t allowed to use the microwave due to her age.  And the big brother was the “man of the house” when no one else was home.  And no one else was.  The boy made his sister happy, of course—she didn’t wait and helped herself to his. 
	The other boy thought it was funny and laughed.
	‘Do you see your sister naked?’
	“Huh?”  Kevin Daller looked to his friend across the small kitchen table; he was busy stuffing his face.  
	‘You ever molest your sister, finger her between her legs?’
	“WHAT!?”
	Kevin’s sister and his friend, Henry looked to him in startlement.
	“Dude!  Whad up, yo?”
	“Didn’t you say something?”
	Henry looked at him oddly, shaking his head, “No.”
	Kevin knew that his sister hadn’t said what he heard—she wouldn’t have said what she said and it was a male voice anyhow!
	Kevin shook his head to clear it, mumbled something under his breath and then…
	‘Why don’t you stand up.’ It was a statement of command and not a question.
	Kevin looked around, “What the fuck?” he was confused.

	His dippy seven year old sister looked to him, “AHM!  You cussed!  I’m gonna tell Mom!”
	‘Be still, child, be quiet.’
	Little Jessica Daller hung her mouth open, eyes wide.  For a moment she blinked her eyes quick-like and expressed high confusion on her sweet little face.  Closing her mouth, gulping, she looked curiously around, cocking her head as she thought she saw someone in the kitchen by the door alcove.  She stared at the stranger but found herself unafraid (although she should be) and unable to move.  She was quiet and still.
	Jessica’s brother, Kevin, and his friend, Henry, though—were not quiet or still.  They bitched and posed questions—mostly of the “What the fuck!?” variety as they got out of their chair and stood out in the small kitchen.  They then began to undress!
	Jessica stared wide eyed, mouth agape.
	‘Have you seen your brother naked before?’
	“Yes.” she answered out loud.
	Brother Kevin didn’t pay attention to his sister’s announcement, he was too jazzed about his undressing himself!
	‘Does your brother show you his naughty bits?  Where his underwear cover?’
	“Yes.” the little girl said growing a little concerned but still controllable.
	‘Does your brother ever touch you where your underwear cover you?’
	“No.”
	‘But he wants to, right?’
	Jessica shrugged, she didn’t know.
	Kevin and Henry had pulled off their pull-over shirts, kicked off their shoes and socks, and pushed down their pants.  Kevin stood in tidy-whiteys while Henry stood in green boxes.
	Those came down as well.
	Young Jessica had only ever seen her brother naked—her eyes which she commanded on her own drifted to rest a second or two—three—four on the standing naked Henry.  Both ten year old boys weren’t bad, for being ten year old boys.  Their puds were shriveled up and dangled only slighty.
	Both lads expressed extreme shock as Jessica watched them put their fingers about their puds and began tugging on them.  The boys rubbed their bare butts and went on and on and on.

	The boys tugged and tugged on their wieners but the little puds barely got more aroused than an inch.  They needed visual stimuli.  And with only Jessica around, she would have to do to provide such.  The boys stepped out of their clothes and were greatly embarrassed—it was true, Kevin often exposed himself to his little sister; he had seen her naked a “few” times and most of those times he didn’t pay attention, he was too young.  As she and he grew older though, his hormones put him into the mode of  ‘pay attention when sis is naked.’
	Of course, he got into slight trouble with his parents when he did but nothing too horrible—just a scolding.  But the desire was there, he wanted to TOUCH his sister—more than a sibling hug, more than when she was scared in the night and came to him for comfort.  He wanted to touch her between her legs!
	At ten years of age, young Kevin’s pud was just beginning to stir; his thoughts rested on girls of all ages (all ages) clad in their swimsuits or short skirts, thin Summery dresses, tight jeans.  He had no thoughts sexually whatsoever towards boys.  Well, mildly so.  He wasn’t gay.  He wasn’t gay.  He liked girls.  He had no gay thoughts.
	But there was a mild-mild-mild curiosity (which was normal) “what did another guy’s dick feel like?”  but that was as far as it went—there was no, “what did it feel like in my butt, in my mouth, or in my hand” thought, there were no choices or centralized thoughts.  
	After standing naked with a myriad of odd thoughts racing thru their minds, the boys watched as Jessica slid off of her chair and came to stand before the table at about where their clothes were.
	‘help her out of her clothes.’
	Kevin felt his heart stop.
	Henry’s mouth fell open.
	Before the boys could fuss and resist they found themselves moving, just as they had done to render themselves nude—they moved their hands without their knowledge rendering Jessica nude as well.
	The little girl wasn’t overly pleased by the stripping down, but she didn’t wail—she fussed some and called for her Mother.
	‘Where is your Mother?’
	‘called into work today.’ 
	‘Where’s Daddy?’
	‘He’s at the hospital.’
	The Daddy wasn’t sick, he was an administrator.
	Henry’s task was pulling off Jessica’s top, a simple purple shirt with a big dinosaur emblazoned on the front—cartoonish, it held a purple daisy and had a big goofy smile.  A caption read in big letters “I’m too cute!”
	And she was.  Jessica had short light brown hair, a sweet round face, small teeth, and was all kinds of cute.  A happy-go-lucky kid who was outgoing, friendly, and everyone liked her.  She and her brother got along as typical brother and sister relationships do—they didn’t fight or plan to get the other in trouble—but it happened now and then.  But that was normal.
	Kevin’s task was pulling his sister’s pants down.  He had never done so although she had pulled his pants down once; while he was goofing off during his rendition of singing a corny Christmas song and acting silly, she snuck up behind him and pulled his sweat pants down.  He wasn’t wearing anything else so the Mommy who was filming via camcorder to send to her parents got a freebie shot of her nine year old son naked.
	But freebie shots were normal, too.
	Kevin’s glimpses of his sister naked were something else.  She was the only girl in the family—he didn’t count the few times he saw his Mom naked or in her underwear.  She was his MOM!  But Jessica was his sister.  Prying deeper it was revealed that those rare times when Jessica came to him instead of their parents when she was frightened of a storm or some such that he DID molest her.  As soon as she was comforted he was slipping his fingers under her panties and fingering her pussy.
	By seeing his sister in her panties (often) and naked (also often) young Kevin had a more clear idea of what girls his age looked like naked or in their underwear.  He stared longingly when at the community pool seeing the girls of all ages prance about in their swimwear.  He regarded the girls in their swim clothes as not much different than being in their panties!
	And speaking of panties, Jessica stood in hers.
	Her sweet face was one of sincere anguish, awe, and fear.  
	Henry Blain now had a boner.  At ten, his four incher stood out proudly and little Jessica stared at it.  Brother Kevin had paused, hesitating as he tried to buck the force that was overpowering him.  But slowly his trembling fingers came to her panties, hooked them and began tugging them down.
	“Kevvy, what are you doing!” wailed the little girl.
	Kevin couldn’t answer verbally only convey his agony as he tried to resist but couldn’t.  He even tried shutting his eyes tight as her panties he slid to her ankles—not wanting to gawk at her nakedness.  He tried but was unsuccessful.

	‘Help her onto the table.’ 
	Kevin stood and found that like friend Henry, he had a boner, too.
	‘Do you “play” with your pud?’
	Kevin felt as though Lance Gimpson had socked him in the stomach; Lance G was the schoolyard bully and had more than once punched Kevin in the stomach.
	Kevin struggled to answer and didn’t answer verbally, the Answer was “seen” in his head.  It paved the way for the non-verbal communication to continue mindlink-to-mindlink.
	Kevin saw images in his mind, naughty images of him masturbating in the shower, in his room, on his bed.  He had a pair of his sister’s panties that he jacked himself with and of alla the times that he jacked himself he had never cum.
	There was a sensation of “cumming” but nothing productive came about it.  But it felt good nonetheless.  But it was the sensation that was sensational and Kevin just had to rub his pud against his sister’s ass, or that area between her legs.  But she wouldn’t let him, she’d tell their parents and he’d get an ass beating for sure.
	The boys hoisted Jessica up onto the table.  The little girl laid down with her legs open and the boys stared wide eyed to her bald poon.
	“HOLY SHIT!” blurted Henry.
	Both boys got major wood and on their own toyed with them.

	Kevin was first to “touch” his sister—using his fingers he touched the sibling cunt, going up and down the slit and all around it.  Jessica moaned her displeasure and flailed her legs and arms about—but not too disturbingly.
	‘Kiss it.’
	Kevin felt another stomach punch.  He was awed by the notion but then realized “Hey, she pees from there!”
	But still he was awed.
	It wasn’t exactly the kind of touch he was hoping for…
	Henry’s cock may have stretched another inch as he watched his best friend put his lips to Jessica’s cunt.
	“Whoa, dude!” he breathed in awe.
	After the initial “kiss”, Kevin was licking twat—and he liked it!
	Jessica, too, found some pleasure in the deed, she was confused and it was that confusion that upset her.  “Noooooo!” she cried.  It felt good, yes, but was wrong morally.

	Kevin licked and licked and licked.  He lapped and lapped and lapped until his tongue got tired.  All over the musty pussy with the slight hint of pee he licked and got more than an eyeful.  As he licked images of girls filled his mind.  So many girls, all the girls in his class at school, and then all the test.  Each girl he had a good image of what she looked like nude.  Each girl he thought of sexually, of her laying out naked with his tongue drilling her.
	There, too, was a teacher, Ms. Krumb, who he tried to image naked, too—with his tongue gouging her.  And then, of course, in the back of his mind brought to the front of his mind was his Mother.
	When the image of his mother came to him he freaked out a little.
	“Nooooo!” he cried out himself and backed away, stumbling over his clothes at his ankles still.  
	‘Your turn.’ said the Voice to Henry.

*

	Unlike Kevin, Henry had no siblings, but he had some cousins, girls and boys who came over and stayed.  Aunts and Uncles, too.  All of them he saw in various stages of undress.  His sexual knowledge was next to nil, he was just barely aware of his own sex.  Only recently had he begun to “play” with his pudling, it felt good and he liked it—but not a lot.  Not yet.
	Taking his turn flicking his tongue to Jessica’s cunt got him very hard; a new feeling swept thru him with his balls and cock “tingling.”  It was a new feeling that he had never experienced before—and that he liked—a lot!
	As he licked Jessica’s snatch, standing behind him was Kevin who was eyeing his friend’s ass.  He didn’t want to but didn’t have a choice.  He firmly insisted (in his mind) that he wasn’t gay—although he had no absolute clear idea what “gay” meant.  
	‘rub his ass.’
	Kevin resisted wholeheartedly but some overwhelming force was there to guide his hand to Henry’s ass.  Henry freaked when he felt a hand to his ass and it wasn’t his.  
	“DUDE!” he shouted swinging around.
	‘on your knees!’
	an overwhelming force pushed Henry to his knees.
	“NOOOOO!” he shouted out.  But the invisible weight was incredible, it was like someone was right there putting him in the unnatural position.  The more he resisted the greater the overall discomfort there was to his young body.

	Henry Blain screamed out as his ass was smacked hard and sharply.
	By what and by who was unknown but the pain inflicted was real, very real.  The shock of the smack put him in another mode of being.
	‘comply, comply; do as you are told; it is the only way.’
	Henry rubbed his burning ass—he couldn’t remember the last time he had been belted.  A moment or two was taken and given; during that time the boy became calm and was susceptible to receiving and accepting mental commands.
	Kevin was freaking as his best friend in a calm manner leaned forward towards him.  
	‘let him suck your dick.’
	“DUDE!”
	‘let him suck your dick.’
	Kevin felt ill and totally frapped.
	‘you like your friend sucking your dick.  It feels good.  You want him to suck you; you want your friend to suck your balls.  You like your friend to suck your cock and balls.  Your like your friend.’
	The words filled Kevin’s mind—over and over for several minutes.
	All the while “friend” Henry was sucking happily away…

	On the table lay the nude little girl, Jessica—asleep.  Her brother Kevin on his knees with his face into the ass of his best friend licking butt hole—giving a rim job.  This after both boys had taken their turn at slobbering all over the others private parts, their boy parts.
	‘go ahead, stand up.’
	Kevin (and Henry) knew what was going on—they were “aware” of the hellish deed and “aware” that they were being compelled/forced into performing such deeds.  Both were trying NOT to like the disgusting venture, but slowly—they were beginning to like it.
	They turned to face one another with their hands about one another, clutching bare ass.  Their bodies brought together and one of the ultimate sins they knew of was pressed upon them, ‘kiss.’
	Full on the lips with tongue.
	Then, with their hard cocks blazing a trail thru concrete, Kevin Daller faced his deep sleeping sister.  A dream-fantasy of his came to be but under the circumstances he didn’t want to proceed.
	‘proceed.’
	Kevin held back and held back and resisted with all his might.
	Then,

	SMACK!
	The force of the belt lashing his ass nearly sent the ten year old out of his skin.  His mind was cluttered with sharp blinding light, piercing noises stabbing into his brain; his nose began to run but not with mucus—with blood.  A horrible shrill bored thru his skull, too.
	All those maladies increased near off the scale until the boy complied fully with the command “fuck her.”  Kevin James Daller knew what “fuck” meant, ‘specially involving a boy/girl relationship.  And although he kinda sorta wanted to “fuck” his sister, the concept was also kinda sorta elusive.  The exactness of just how to actually go about “fucking” was vague.
	But when pressing his pud against his sister’s cunt and there was the attempt at penetration, the maladies in his noggin abruptly ceased.  That helped.  The boy, though, felt his bowels rumbling.  He was “hot” all over, dizzy, and his nose was still bleeding.
	‘fuck her.’
	And he was given instruction on just how to do that.

	From behind the bucking Kevin, young Henry Blain sat on his knees watching up close and personal as his best friend’s cock slammed in and out of his own sister’s pussy.  Henry pounded his own pud and was captivated by the illicit sex act, captivated by the swinging balls before him, his friend’s ass, and the sex act itself.  It was all mesmerizingly captivating.
	And then Kevin came.
	His first productive orgasm.
	It was straightforward with most of the young first time sperm shooting into his sister’s cunt.  The boy strained and pumped with incredible sensations never before felt—but he knew that he wanted to experience that sensational sensation again—lots!
	And though lo he was thrilled with the orgasm, he was less enthused with the blood.  There was significant blood coating his cock, balls, and inner thighs.  There was blood coating his sister’s pussy.  The boy freaked out.  Jessica, no longer asleep, freaked out.  Henry freaked out.  It was chaos in the kitchen and took some time to settle.
	Using a washrag from the kitchen sink Kevin wiped down his sister’s pussy.  She had become “calm” again and the boys were virtually themselves, following instructions given to them by some unknown force among them.  
	Henry took his turn fucking Jessica half an hour after Kevin.  There was no blood the second go around.  And like Kevin, Henry liked—a lot!

	Both boys humped little Jessica once more each as she lay on the table.  The boys suckled one another’s pud, balls, and asshole.  The boys stood and locked lips, hands on the other’s ass, deeply involved in kissing and loving.  When their cocks were dramatically hard again,
	‘Henry, get on your hands and knees, please.’
	The word “sodomy” was not knew to Kevin (or Henry), both had heard the scientific word on the daily news.  They were more familiar, though, with the alternate terminology—Butt Fuck, Doggie Style, Rim Jobber, Duck Hump, Butt Humper.  Both boys had regarded the act of ramrodding another guy’s asshole as gross, disgusting, perverted, and other vernaculars but neither really knew what it was all about.
	By command from the Voice among them, Kevin poked his best friend’s asshole.  It didn’t go in smoothly and required serious pressure and dire determination.  When the tight sphincter was too much even for the rock hard intruder, the suggestion was made,
	‘use some butter.’
	Kevin fetched the tub of butter from the fridge, lubed his cock up with a slathering finger full, then applied more to his friend’s asshole.  Penetration was then made and Kevin liked—a lot!
	For Kevin’s turn—or Henry turn depending on perspective, Kevin laid out on the pile of clothes, legs back, ass(hole) at the ready.  Henry applied his tongue to his friend’s hole, slathered some butter on his pole and promptly sodomized his best friend.

	“Nooooo!  Nooooo, Kevvy, it hurts!  It hurts!”
	Little sister Jessica didn’t care for being reamed in the ass, not at all.  On the kitchen table with her legs held back by the naked Henry who straddled her head, his cock and balls on her face, brother Kevin stuffed his sister poop chute.  It was just as uncomfortable to him, as well, and he derived very little pleasure from the deed.
	But do it he did and finally found joy in orgasming.
	Little Jessica received no joy.
	Henry took his turn after Kevin, after Kevin cleaned the blood and poo stains from his dick and his sister’s asshole.  He felt badly for her, but wrestled endlessly with the desires.  The concept of butt fucking his sister really had never entered his mind, he just wanted to “hump her ass” but didn’t know why.  

	It wasn’t any easier (for Jessica) when Henry drilled her asshole, but she endured.  The boys then once more faced one another after sodomized the girl on the table.  Their bodies together they kissed, fondled ass, and only then became acutely aware of the Voice’s presence.

	The boys were both locked in a horrible bout of embarrassment as they were both aware of their forced embrace as well as someone in the kitchen with them.  Neither boy could break their embrace of the other, they stood nude with their hands clamped tightly to the other’s ass, their aching schlongs against one another and they had just been locked in a five minute Frenching.
	There was a man among them, he was nude, his penis was HARD.  He came and stood right up beside the two nude boys and began caressing their shoulders.  The boys were petrified but neither could break the embrace—they thought it was due to the petrifaction.  Yeah, that was it—petrifaction.
	The nude man with a raging boner moved slowly to his knees.  The boys tensed up as their bare asses were fondled, squeezed, and then spanked with the man’s bare hands.
	Finally they were separated.  The nude man turned Kevin 45 degrees towards him—then went down on his pud.  Both Kevin and Henry were awed beyond belief.  The man’s hands remained on their perspective butts, squeezing the flesh and seemingly enjoying himself.  There was nothing the boys could do but endure.
	After just a couple of minutes the man stopped sucking on Kevin’s prong and switched to Henry.  Sensations unknown reeled in Kevin, he wanted to jerk off badly, the feeling was right there.  He watched as his friend was sucked, the man taking in the boy’s testicles, too.
	Henry seemed to be having fits as he clenched his ass, toes, and body as a whole.  Like his friend, after the two minute blowjob he was ready to cum.  But like Kevin, he had to hold it.
	The nude man turned Kevin around—positioned him onto the floor—legs open, holding his cheeks open, too.
	“OH SHIT” blurted Henry.
	“OH FUCK!” blurted Kevin.

	Henry balls slapping against his friend’s body made the only noise in the sullen kitchen; Kevin’s body jiggled as he was slammed from behind; sweat drenched his naked body and the insane nude man was playing with Kevin’s cock!

	Henry already at the bursting point only pumped a minute into his friend’s asshole before unloading.  The feeling was incredible and it was something he definitely wanted to experience again—and again—and again.  But he wasn’t so keen on having to stuff his best friend’s asshole.
	Kevin’s turn came with him poking his way into friend Henry laying on the clothes on the floor (where else would they be?)  Henry held his own legs back while Kevin prodded his anus and then fucked it.
	The nude man spanked Kevin’s ass as he fucked.  Kevin’s attention was only so-so on the act of buggering his best pal, most his attention was centered on watching the man beside them who had a major cock.  It was hard and he was stroking it.
	After Kevin unleashed his orgasm (and thought it was the best feeling ever) Kevin was positioned onto his friend—sitting his fresh fucked ass onto Henry’s face.  Kevin had to hold back Henry’s legs, locking them behind his arms.  This helped with the angling of Henry’s ass (and hole) so as Kevin’s tongue could lap it clean.
	Henry merely had to part Kevin’s ass to perform his anal clean.
	Both boys were kinda grossed out if not sickened by the task.  Cocksucking was one thing, fondling another dude’s nuggets was one thing, KISSING another dude was certainly one thing—but a rim job with icing was OUT!
	With their refusal and Kevin on top, a heated skillet was just the thing to “motivate” the pair into completing their task.  While the boys wallowed and cried on the floor refusing to lick the other’s asshole clean of spunk matter, the nude man let them be—taking a skillet from a cabinet and setting it on the stove.  The electric stove heated the skillet up in quick fashion and then the nude man applied it with incredible force to Kevin’s tender ass.
	It was probably coincidence but somewhere close by a car alarm sounded off.
	Just one swat was enough to motivate the boys into the disgusting task.  Both were beyond horrified; both retched and spurted the spunk out of their mouths as they tongued bung.  And when Henry had successfully cleaned Kevin’s bung—the nude man with his amazing cock took it to the freshly cleaned hole.
	Once more Kevin cried out and thought he was coming out of his skin.  The man drove his cock slowly into his hole, no pumping—just a straight invasion.  Kevin clenched his entire body, trying to dig his fingers into the linoleum flooring.

	After a minute or so the butt humping got better—not much better but some.  Young Henry beneath them knew that his turn was next.
	And he would be right, of course!
	His turn, though, came some minutes later.  And the young boy thought for sure that he was going to have to re-lick Kevin’s hole after the crazed lunatic had done his business.  But he didn’t.  The man came (and came—and came).  The goo splurted out of Kevin’s anus, drizzling down between his crack, onto his sweaty balls, and onto Henry’s face anyways.
	Then some many minutes later—Henry’s hole was splurting jiz, it drizzled down his crack and pooled ‘neath his ass onto someone’s clothes he lay on.  Smoke spewed from his hole, too; while being reamed he had screamed into his friend’s ass.  Afterwards he lay as still as possible, it would take a long-long time before his hole would be the same.
	Kevin was dazed, and then some.  When he came around he saw the nude man raping his sister.  The boy lay stunned in awe at what he was seeing; vomit choked him in his throat, his mind was in overload and couldn’t quite comprehend the horrid scene.  Somehow he managed to summon up some strength and charge the man.
	He stumbled during his feeble attack but managed to grabble the nude man anyways.  But at ten, Kevin Daller was no match for a grown man.  The man slung Kevin aside as if he were a twig.  The boy went skidding across the floor colliding with pristine white cabinets.  He was dazed and remained still, watching as the man spanked his sister’s ass then flung her legs open again and proceeded to continue fucking her.
	Just then Kevin saw the skillet.

	The man was distracted as he raped the little girl, part of his penis was virtually all the way into her; she fought back some but had been beaten into submission with a horrendous face slap while her brother and his friend laid out on the floor stunned from their forced butt fucking by the man.
	The man was distracted and never saw the young girl’s stalwart brother lunge at him with the heated skillet.  The object not heated landed with some force to the man’s backside.  “GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER YOU FUCKED UP FUCKER!”
	The blow though not significant did knock the nude man away; he stumbled and toppled over a breakfast chair.  Young naked asshole smoldering Kevin lunged again reigning the skillet down onto the man wherever he could land a blow.

	Two blows were landed before the man kicked the boy in his very vulnerable boy parts.  The boy dropped the skillet doubling over retching uncontrollably.  The man he had attacked scrambled to his feet and wrenched his attacker’s head back, jerking him to the electric stove…

*

the life of cum jobs
	Life in the Daller home would never be the same.  Kevin and Jessica’s mother had come home to find her son with his face near burnt off; his asshole reamed raw and bleeding; and tied with duct tape in combination with rope to his best friend in a sixty-niner position—their puds encased in the other’s mouth.  The rope and duct tape was tricky and super glue was involved, too.  No amount of therapy would ever undo what had happened.
	She was close to fainting dead away, retching and carrying on as any mother would when coming into such a ghastly scene.  She did vomit but went to the boys trying to undo them.  But the duct taping and ropes about them was beyond her ability to undo.
	Her daughter on the table had been in a fetal position.  She was not secured with rope or duct tape.  Gently rolling her over onto her back the mother did lose it—Jessica’s poon was sewn.  Several tight sutures had been made to close the vaginal opening.  Beverly retched hard throwing up uncontrollably all over the kitchen floor.
	That was when she suddenly saw the nude stranger.  He smiled to her and Beverly was powerless, her energy completely drained with fright, sickness, and confusion.  Then she was clobbered up side the head with a skillet.
	When she awoke, Beverly Daller found herself naked on the floor with a stranger on top of her.  Her manly penis slid in and out of her pussy.  Her fright and anger fought to gain control, but there was no strength in her and the horrid man completed his mastery of rape.
	Afterwards he left her.  She was spent, not sexually but otherwise.  She saw her son, his legs straddling the face of his best friend; blood and poo coated Kevin’s anal rim; his testicle sac totally encased into the mouth of Henry beneath him.
	The man returned, he carried a first aid kit and knelt between Beverly’s legs again.  She was dazed and more than just confused.  There was something happening between her legs, the man was doing something to her womanness.

	Shaving her.
	The wicked horrid man was using one of those disposable razors from the collapsible first aid kit he carried with him.  A dry shave of all her poon hair.  Then a spray of some sort was applied to her skin; at first it stung and caused the woman to react—but with her spirit and energy so well drained she could only endure.
	The man crawled onto her once more and raped her.  He pawed at her breasts, tweaked the nipples and seemed very fascinated with them.  Beverly didn’t like his smile, or his eyes—he was evil, pure evil.  But that was all she could describe later to investigators—his maniacal coal dark eyes, sunken cheeks, high brow, tousled dark hair and the lingering sneer permanently etched on his leathery-like face.
	After the rape the second time the man spent some time at her pussy.
	Beverly had no idea what he was doing—but the spray earlier was a sort of anesthetic in a body—something to numb the skin so as to allow for suturing of open wounds.  But in Beverly’s case, as was her young daughter’s, the “open wound” was their vagina.
	The family, and friend, would survive.  Barely.

*

High School Spurtz
	His life was that of a vagabond, or a nomad; wandering aimlessly and listlessly thru cities and towns and small open fields.  He didn’t care for the absoluteness of being a wandering nomad who turned a shoulder to civilization—Cam Colter enjoyed civilization even though the civilized people didn’t enjoy him back!
	For a time Cameron C Colter had been a valued member of society.  After a tumultuous few years of private Catholic school life he ventured into university life where he sought to pursue the life of a medical professional.  He learned of the bones of the human body, the muscles, the organs, and the many diseases that afflicted all.  
	He learned that he was not a social person and preferred to live alone, off campus.  He learned that his anti-social behavior cost him prestigious associations—he was blackballed from most fraternities and the one that would accept him had a dark side.
	Cameron was still a Catholic—despite his extra curricular activities with the private school staff.  For a time he resisted the dark side fraternity, but his social need drew him in.
	What exactly occurred during his four years in the fraternity was unknown—that is to say “blanked out.”  He did not know whether he chose not to know what happened, or by some psychosis he had blotted it out.  He didn’t know—didn’t care.
	So he wandered.  Wander-wander-wander.  There was no particular destination, it didn’t matter where he went so long as he “went”.   He felt that there was something, a force or whatever, driving him—pulling him.  Some destination ultimately awaited him.
	His time line of events was afoul, but in one particular incident found him close to his destination.  It came, however, another incident.  Of course!

*

the first spurt
	In a nice house of yellow with white trim, a big freaking leafy tree in the front yard, overgrown bushes, oil stains on the driveway, two girls giddily goofed off in a bedroom.  The girls were friends, best friends.  One girl had flaming red hair, freckles, and pleasing boobs.  Her friend had super curly brown hair; a long narrow face, heavenly blue eyes, smaller breasts, and a smaller body overall.
	Both were fifteen years young.  
	No one seemed to be home, but it was so noted in the driveway two oil spots indicating there were two cars to the family home—with bad oil leaks.  The outside of the home was in need of some TLC; but it actually fit in with the neighbors (and neighborhood).  Not that it was unkempt as a whole, but…
	The girls were giddy, yapping incessantly about their favorite subject—BOYS!  There was talk, too, about the end of school year activities; possible summer school, a trip to the beach, and BOYS!
	The bedroom was not very big, but big enough to hold two twin beds separated by a funky wicker nightstand with an even funkier nightlamp perched atop.  A Hawaiian theme was the room’s setting; the dresser, other nightstand, bedspreads.  In the upper corners were fish nettings with sea plush sea creatures captured within.  A small surf board adorned one wall, water skis on another wall.  A wicker bookcase with a few books, sea shell ornaments, beach themed knickknacks and so on took space at another wall.
	There was one window looking out to the backyard.
	Tammie Huews, whose bedroom it was, sat on one bed while her bestest best friend, Lee Anne Patrick sat opposite.  The girls were nicely dressed in typical day-school clothes and were all kinds of giddy.  All kinds!

	The girls were in the midst of yapping when suddenly…
	A silence came upon them.  They stared into the other’s eyes, mouths closed, minds still racing ahead due to the abrupt shutdown of the mouth.  They were confused to say the least and could only sit and stare at one another.
	Then,
	‘stand up.’
	Tammie shook off the first mental intrusion, her friend immediately obeyed and stood up.  Tammie needed a second mental intrusion before she stood up.
	‘take off your tops.’
	Ut-oh…here we go again…

	Tammie had a nice bod, shapely and not bad for fifteen.  Her butt was darling and “just the right size to be adorable.  So were her tits.  A nice rack, and a little more than what the average fifteen year old girl was sporting in mass population.  (but not out of proportion)
	Her friend had smaller breasts, about the size the average twelve year old girl supported.  But her body overall was not bad, a small butt, but it was in relative amount to the rest of the girl’s body.
	Their tops removed, their bras followed.  The girls were calm, they accepted the commands invading their minds without fuss—they were “aware” but accepting as if it were all some sort of bizarre dream.
	Their shoes were kicked off nextly and then down came their pants.  Both girls wore not too tight nor sloppy fitting jeans; Tammie’s was a rust colored pair while Lee Anne wore atypical blue (jeans.)  With their pants down the girls stood in nice typical panties, regular style with Tammie clad in powder blue undies and friend Lee Anne in red cotton stripped panties.
	The panties were slid down and then the girls sat back down.
	Neither girl was showed any sign of panic—they took it all in stride.
	‘virgin?’ Tammie was asked directly.
	The girl had a puzzled look on her face.
	‘Are you a virgin?’ a more direct mode.
	“No.” she answered aloud.
	‘Boyfriend?’
	“No.”
	‘Brothers?’
	“Yes.”
	‘Dad?  Uncle?  Cousins?’
	The definitive reply was not NO, but HELL NO!
	Tammie Huews had three brothers, two older and one younger.  As far as she could remember back she had been molested by them—but she was willing (so far as she knew and understood).  The last time she had taken a brother on, though, had been when she was thirteen.  Since then, she had grown fearful of pregnancy.  And two, the boys had gotten into sports and other ventures disallowing private time for them to be together and thusly “fool” around.
	They did go nude about one another and she DID watch them jack off—and she DID participate in helping them complete that task—including sucking.  The boys humped her ass (but not the hole) and her bodacious ta-tas.
	‘lie down.’
	Tammie laid down and then received the command, ‘take ‘em down.’
	She managed her panties down to just her knees.  She made no fussings and lay still when completing her task.  Opposite her her friend sat in “zombie” mode.
	Lee Anne was no stranger to dick, either.  She had been nailed once by a boyfriend, once by a cousin, and once by one of Tammie’s brothers.  But wait, there’s more!  Lee Anne was an avid masturbator and being such she was caught fingerbanging herself by her single Dad.  She was totally nude and totally into the deed of “getting off.”  Dear Daddy whipped her, striking her bare ass with his hand.
	This only enthused his manhood, though, and so he jammed it into her mouth.  When she was filled to capacity with his sticky goo, he returned to spanking her—when hard again he jammed himself into her tight virgin asshole.
	That deed satisfied him.  Temporarily.
	In the days that followed he had his teen daughter prance about in her underwear, and sometimes less—for his amusement.  She sucked his cock and he fingered her cunny.  The only other insertion was to her asshole.  
	And how recent was this?
	Recent.  
	She was a pretty girl, nice slim body, tight non-flabby ass, shaven beaver.  She was a pretty girl in the style of those girls of the ‘70s.  Her poise, her hair style, style of dress, everything.  She was a cutey and despite having some dick visit her snatch box, she was still tight.
	This was discovered after she shucked her panties; and the “visitor” finished pulling them off her legs, along with her pants.  Although it would be more customary to nail the actual occupant of the house who lived there, the Visitor made an exception and eased his manliness into the “visitor.”

	The Visitor enjoyed visiting the visitor, her cunny was soothing to his visitor.  Her nipples enticed him and for some time he visited them; devouring and nipping them.  Her cunny was deliciously pleasing and greatly satiated him—to a point.  All of her body was pleasing and the Visitor roamed his hands all over her; squeezing and pinching—mostly to see just how “zombie”-like the teen was.
	She was pretty zombied.
	Unlike other males who enter into the realm of orgasmic bliss, the Visitor’s orgasm was more subtle, due to the fact that he had no testicles.  His sperm producing department was readdressed inside his body and rendered virtually inoperative, but “productive.”  There was “seed” production but it would never germinate.
	It allowed for a bit more “penetration”, too.  And a longer orgasm even after the initial spurtz of cum.  It suited the Visitor and he languished in his deed; taking his time, enjoying blissfully that which was blissful.
	When done he lay on the girl, kissing her, slobbering on her face; squeezing and tweaking her nipples—all the while his cock remained jutting inside her cunny.  And unlike those males whose prick softened or went flaccid after ejaculating, the Visitor’s dong did not.  It was not as “hard” per se as when it was humping gash but still, it could do support an elephant…
	Tammie Huews’ snatch box was a red fiery fuck patch.  It was neatly trimmed and had nifty pouting “lips”.  A time was taken investigating the snatch—and like most it was slightly musty with a hint of urine.  The Visitor dwelled upon the fur patch, tugging on the pubes as if using them for dental floss!  
	Tammie seemed to enjoy being munched as her nipples greatly perked up; all over her young teen body were goosebumps, too.  The Visitor took his time—licking and lapping, nipping and digging his nose into the crevice that he would soon fill with his love tool and then subsequent cum.
	And he was mid way thru filling the girl’s cunny with his love juices when from the front door there was a slam and the presence of another.  The Visitor slowed his pace and listened intently as he heard the sounds of grocery bags.  Then a voice, a female Motherly voice.
	“Tammie, you home?”
	Tammie didn’t respond.  She lay zombiefied staring up to her sea blue ceiling.  The Visitor pulled himself off of her, snuggled up to the open door and peered out.  There was a long hallway with bedrooms and bathrooms that emptied to a living room on the right and a kitchen/dinning room to the left.  The Mother was in the kitchen.  The Visitor couldn’t see her, but could hear and smell her—she smelled of orange blossoms.
	The woman in her late 30s wore a nappy beige slacks, white sandals, and a simple summery blouse.  A few jewelry adorations adorned her slender body; and like her daughter, she had a mop of flaming hair.  She was tall, six foot and an inch, moderate ta-tas, flabby butt.  But the butt was butt-okay, there was a fine line of appreciation for the type of flabby butts—some were appalling while others were enticing.
	The Visitor found Tammie’s Mother’s flabby butt enticing.
	With her back to him as she pulled out items from a grocery bag, she was an easy target for zombying.  She stopped cold with a can of soup in one hand and a bag of fresh vegetables in the other.  The Visitor stepped up to her, sniffed her, then embraced her.

	As far as the Visitor was concerned, Deloris Huews was a good woman.  But then again, the Visitor’s memory was so good and he couldn’t ascertain a proper time line—nor could he recall any “other” women.  So Deloris Huews held the top spot all her own.
	Which was all she held as her clothing was bunched at her feet…
	Seeing no particular earnest in rushing things, the Visitor gently slid off the woman her clothing.  His cock a masterful bone of pleasure nestled nicely between her legs, resting comfortably while the Hands pleasured themselves with groping the woman’s womanly titties.  He posed no questions to her; he merely roamed her entire body taking his time.  He was in no particular hurry.
	At length, though, his cock demanded attention.  After much fondling of Deloris’ hooters, he gently escorted the nude woman to her bedroom.  Skillfully he laid her on her bed, parted her legs, and “ate at the Y.”  And like her teen daughter’s snatch—there was the usual mustiness mixed with the slight hint of urine.
	It delighted the Visitor and he took his time—nibbling, licking, lapping, and nipping the folds of her womanly cunny.  The woman was not “dead” and reacted as she should when her sex was tantalized.  The Visitor enjoyed a woman’s cunt as much as he did any other—ten years old or forty, it mattered not to him; with testicles and cock attached or simple smooth mounds of a twat—it mattered not.
	But after much ado of tonguing the cunt he moved up the body, feasting for a time on the woman’s breasts.  They were inasmuch a delight to sup on as was her cunt!  His cock rested against her furry burger while his hands and mouth mawed the right breasts and then the left one.

	At length his masterful schlong made vaginal entry, sliding near effortlessly all the way in.  Deloris reacted as there was more coming “in” to her sex than usual.  Her lifemate and bed partner was good but he was an average white guy with an average white guy cock. 
	The Visitor made slow methodic pumps, taking his time filling the woman’s cunny, bringing her to the brink of unique orgasmic bliss.  The woman’s eyes bulged with delight; her body twisting, breasts pooching upwards, nipples even more so.  She began to make noises as her ecstasy was taken to the limits.  The Visitor began to speed up his efforts.
	Just as the last drizzling of his love cream emptied onto the woman’s swamp box, the front door was heard opening and a small cacophony of boy voices was heard.
	Then was heard, “Whoa, shit!”  the boys had found the mother’s clothes in the kitchen.  The Visitor smiled, this was going to be interesting…