August Moone
Book 8
Chapter One
Dom’s Way Home

Trailer life
	Ms. O’Riley’s cat had mouse-eating grin, ‘cept it was a big ole pigeon in her mouth instead of a mouse.  Gleefully she trotted thru the garden gate and up the steps to her owner’s door where she promptly deposited the half eaten bird in hopes of appeasing the fussy Ms. O’Riley who scorned her for misbehavior in the house.
	Ms. O’Riley was one of the few who actually had a house in the Starlight Cove.  Most homes were of the “mobile” variety; transportable hovels that were not specifically designed for the open road (although I’d personally like to see a gaggle of these ancient travel-alls on the M-5.)
	Jonas Josephus stood on the raised patio of his single-wide abode watching with his aging eyes the surf come in on the morning fog.  His aged dark leathery skin told the tale of years of outdoor hard labor.  

	“Holy sheep shit!” bitched Dabnis Daphne, “Jonas!  Jonas J, yer naked again!  Git inside and git some britches on!”
	Jonas’ neighbor, Dabnis called out to his shaking his head and the morning paper.  Jonas, however, didn’t pay him any mind, he was “far far away” on a fishing boat on a tranquil sea (naked.)
	Doralee Curruthers swept her small porch chasing one of the seaside trailer park cats away.  “Scat!  Scat!” she griped smacking the floor with the broom.
	It was early morning at the Starlight Cove trailer park; nestled in amongst some sprawling landscape of this type and another, the park was a community of several dozen peoples trying to eek out a minimal life—such as it was.  Most were retired, unemployed, or other.  Black, white, Asian were the most makeup; many were in their 60s and beyond.  Many were not in their right minds—like Jonas.  
	And there were many who were just a little down on their luck and Life had dealt them a bad hand.  Many others and others like the latter were trying to start over after coming thru a personal and/or family tragedy.  Maggie Gordon was one such; the loss of her Dad was tough on the teen girl but she was making it—with her Mom who was disabled but receiving monies from the death of her husband.
	Maggie was smart, though, and she was destined for college, after two more years of high school.  Maggie, too, was cute.  She had a nice butt—very nice; a nice rack, a sweet smile, good personality, and was easy on the eyes.  Cock pleasing.
	She and her recently widowed Mom had moved to the seaside relic trailer park for cheaper living until monies could be saved and they could return to a more civilized nearby town.  Maggie wasn’t bitter about her current living situation—she overcame it and enjoyed the tranquil serenity of seaside life.
	There were some other teens in the trailer park, younger mostly, with Alex Rogan the only other teen her age.  Alex’s Mom actually was the manager of the trailer park.  She had a regular job in the nearby town, though, so teen son Alex did most of the “managing” in regards to whatever problems there were—like fixing Ms. O’Gowen’s television antennae; fixing a gate or fence, chasing cats, the plumbing problems in the washhouse; and the video arcade games at the manager’s hut.
	Maggie just made her way around the Hut bumping into Otis who ran the Hut—it was a small eatery mostly for the tourists but there were times when Otis made his famous barbeque that everyone came to enjoy.  

 	The old black man was startled, but smiled big when he saw it was the fresh faced sweet young teenager he had collided with.  He embraced her (and wanted more) but he didn’t go that far.
	“Be careful,” he warned, “Jonas is out on his porch in his birthday suit!”
	Maggie rolled her eyes and continued on her way.
	A cobblestoned path led the way down to the left (and Jonas Josephus’ trailer) so Maggie took the longer route to her destination; Alex Gordon’s trailer.  
	Alex was a friend.  A friend.  He was a little quirky, super curly dark brown hair, but light hearted and friendly enough to be a good friend.  Maggie knew that he probably most likely wanted to “get in her pants”; he was a boy, a teenage boy, and that was a given.  But he never put moves on her.  They liked to hang out, go to the movies, to the park, beach combing, hiking in the nearby hills, that sort.
	Alex lived with his single (divorced) Mom and little brother, Louis, in a decent trailer just down from the Hut.  Maggie avoided seeing the naked 70 year old Jonas and came up to the Gordon “estate” encountering Alex’s Mom, Jane.
	“Good morning, Maggie,” Jane Gordon said cheerfully as she put the finishing touches to waitress outfit and fussing with her hair that truck drivers at the diner would fuss with, too, “Alex is still asleep, he was up all night studying and doing whatever (masturbating).”
	“Go on in.” she concluded as she made her way out to her car.
	“And tell him Ms. Garrison’s cat is out again and Mr. Haun’s waterheater needs looked at, too.”
	“I’ll tell him.” Maggie said.  Poor Alex, he was sixteen and hardly had time to himself to be himself.
	The interior of the Gordon home was not immaculate, but no one cared.  It wasn’t cluttered, though; there were no cats, toys, or stacks of porn books.  Maggie put her school books down and tredged carefully down the narrow hall.  The first room was Alex’s; he shared it with his little brother.  There was a bathroom across the hall; the boys’ Mom had the master bedroom in the rear with a small masterbath.
	Alex was in the bottom bunk—sound to sleep.  He strove hard in his studies to ensure his hopes for college would not be dashed like the kelp on the surf below the trailer park.  Peeking in she saw Alex’s ass.  His bare ass as he faced the wall his bare bottom was exposed.

	Maggie backed up and had mixed feelings.
	Then she heard an “OW!”
	In the bathroom was young ten year old Louis James Gordon and he had just caught his pee-pee in his zipper.  He was in great peril.  Maggie to the rescue!  The boy was too petrified (and in pain) to care that it was Maggie fooling with his penis.  But then again, Louis like Maggie, she liked him.  She had seen him peeing outside before, heard him fart, and was a teenage girl who was mature and knew a boy’s physiology.
	As typical, the youngster had gotten the skin of his penis caught in his zipper—done when he heard someone coming down the hall and he didn’t want to get busted whacking off by his Mom—especially his Mom.  so Maggie smiled at seeing the stiffness of Louis’ schlong.  For ten he wasn’t so bad—he was energetic and liked to roam; he was deeply involved in cave exploring; liked to build things in that diorama scheme featuring dinosaurs.  Maggie was aware that he had a stash of Playboys and “other” offensive material in the bathroom.  In that, she knew that Alex had probably looked thru them, too—and had a very fair idea of what SHE looked like naked.
	Oh well…
	She tugged on Louis’ schlong after freeing it from the zipper.
	Louis liked—a lot!
	Maggie, apparently, did as well.  She stroked the little pecker and slowly pushed the boy’s pants and underwear down so as she could begin caressing his butt.  Louis grinned and his puddling strengthened all the more.
	Listening carefully for any signs of Louis’ brother rousing Maggie worked stronger, cupping Louis’ hairless testicles and getting the boy seriously worked up.  Maggie smiled at the boy and gave him a Devil’s smile.
	“You wont tell on me, will you?” she slyly asked.
	“Hell no!” Louis cussed.
	Maggie was pleased to hear that; she craned her head over her shoulders to make sure they would not be disturbed, then; she went down on the boy.
	She did!
	All of Louis’ schlong disappeared into her mouth and she raked her teeth across the sensitive skin; ran her tongue about his super sensitive crown, and sucked—sucked—sucked until he was at blast point.  Though he was ten, he was capable of producing juice.  He hadn’t done so but just a few times; squirting his juice onto the glossy pages of his hidden skin  magazines.

	Maggie took in all of Louis’ adequate tool swallowing his fresh spunk matter, too.  After the finale squirt she pulled back and still listening for danger undone her shirt, then unclasped her bra (clasped in the front) and presented the bewildered boy her beautifully shaped breasts.
	“Whoa!” Louis breathed.  
	Maggie grinned and blushed some, then continued caressing Louis’ ass pulling him in so as he little dick could be against her breasts.  Then, right there on her knees in the bathroom—she got a titty fuck from the ten year old.
	But wait!  There’s more!
	With Alex pulling an all-niter (among other things) he liked to sleep in much of the day as possible.  It was a non-school day and whatever problems the park’s residents had—could wait.  (‘cept for Gwendolynn Spearsy who’s antennae was messed up again (wind) and if she missed her “stories” she’d be pissed.)
	So with Alex soundly sleeping (naked), Maggie gently laid herself out on the bathroom floor shucking her jeans.  Young Louis was mesmerized to say the least.  Finally, though, he pulled off his shirt and stepped out of his pants and underwear.  His little pud Maggie had just sucked on stood out ready for action.
	Maggie pushed her jeans down and opened her legs revealing her self in her powder blue panties.  Louis’ eyes bulged, “Whoa!  Shit!” 
	“Don’t cuss.” Maggie warned.  At ten, Louis Gordon was a good cusser.  Maggie kept a vigil ear on any signs of life from Alex while slowly-slowly pushing down her panties.  All young Louis could do was moan, bulge his eyes, and murmur “Whoa!  Shit!”
	When she was completely—completely naked, she spread her legs to let the boy get a real good look at her.  And he did.  Up close and personal, his first real look at a girl without her clothes on.  He had seen wee little girls, in their undies and running amok buck naked—but they were wee little girls and didn’t have much to look at it.
	Maggie slowly guided the awestruck Louis into position; at first his puddling lay nestled against her cunny that was already “moist” and quivering.  Her hands went over the young boy’s body—as they did with “other” boys from the park and beyond.  She quivered—all over and let out a little moan of her own.  Her pussy became even more moist (and quivered more, too!) 
	Louis was too overwhelmed by the illicit act to “act”; he just lay on the girl not knowing that there was actually more he was supposed to do.  But that was okay, Maggie knew what to do…

	Slowly she helped the boy guide his puddling into her quaking sex.  Just the mere presence of his dinky against her cunny was exciting enough, to be naked with him—he with her, and the slight presence of the chance of getting caught also played a factor.  
	Louis’ cock went in.  It was ten years old and thusly not much of a “cock” but it did a fair job just the same.  Maggie was already heightened to a sexual level most pleasing to her; the act of having a little boy’s dick in her no matter the size only added to the forbidden lust.
	And lust there was—on the bathroom floor of a rinky-dinky seaside trailer.  Maggie, sixteen, got Louis, ten, into serious engagement.  She managed to hook an angle to the toilet and the other to the bathtub and with only gentle gripping on his hips propelled him into the groove that was sex, sexual intercourse.
	Louis liked—a lot!  He wasn’t particular good at it (but he was inexperienced.)  Maggie didn’t mind, he was satisfying her in so many ways.  Her pussy was pleased regardless if his cock was ten or sixteen or eighteen.  She continuously caressed and held the boy’s ass; slipping fingers down between his cheeks to diddle his asshole and clutch his slapping balls.  She helped him get into a rhythm and they fucked…
	Up a storm!
	Sure, Maggie had had better fucks and sexual relations; but each one seemed to be different regardless of the boy’s age.  She was satisfied and very muchly was her cunt satiated.  She clung to the boy and “get with it”; Louis was just “on for the ride”.  His first fuck!

*

	He never knew how calming the sea could be.  All the poems of the seafaring life began to swirl in his head.  He had seen the play (and movie) of The Old Man and the Sea and every pirate movie and tale that came to be.  There was something enchanting about the sea—it was mesmerizing.
	How long he sat on a precipice he didn’t know, time was as fleeting to him as all else.  He watched the sea crash onto the shore then roll out again.  On the horizon a great tanker ship cruised listlessly by his view; a sailing ship there was, too.
	But the sea made him seasick.  He would never make a pirate.
	But maybe he could make being human again!

	Somewhere close by Dom still yet to find the source was the source of his possible chance of return (to human form.)  He vowed then to live without the aid of an EMAD.  To go home, to honor his Father and Mother, go to college, get him a job, a honey, and raise children—without the aid of a fucking EMAD!
	Of his own abilities he wasn’t sure—he was still “invisible” and could go at will wherever he willed it; he still had mental EMAD-like abilities of overwhelming others.  But there was more, he couldn’t pin it down but something was amiss.  
	The breezes from the sea he could feel.  He could feel the rock he sat on.  He WAS hungry/thirsty, too.  There were desires for more other than for sexual conquest.  
	Sighing he moved from the jutting rock.  He couldn’t figure it and had long since stopped trying to figure it—how he moved.  How he moved from one location to the next (without walking.)  Ghost-like he guessed as much.  It was a lonely existence and he guessed, too, that that was the bugger of it.  Alone.  He didn’t care for it.  It sucked.  “To be alone” a poem he once wrote for his 8th grade English teacher, “leave me alone on a sandy beach, so I can listen to the waves, lap lightly on the shore, then, without a word, move back into the sea to come again.  Leave me to sit on a rock surrounded by the sea, and hear the waves crash on, the stone wall around me.  The ocean is still out a leage.  The bright moon dances on then, shimmering, glass-like surface, like a thousand mirrors shinning in the sun.  a gull calls out overhead, and breaks the silence in my mind.  We are as one in nature.  As the gull turns back seaward, the lazy, methodic clap of, the great wings pierces the night air.  Then, suddenly, it heads downward.  It breeches the surface with its beak, and hurries off with its prize.  The ripples formed move toward me.  As each succeeding circle reaches out, the placid moonlight is bounded into my eyes.  I am not lonely.  I am alone.”

	Someone was having a barbeque.
	Someone else was burning chicken.
	Another seaside dweller had a huge pot of something gurgling in the small backyard.  A fence of roses encircled the small backyard, along with misplaced cacti and Old West equipment.  A questionable (for use) swing set occupied space at one side.  But it was the burbling pot that was center of attention.  Contained within was something like a stew.  It was hearty—reeking of spices.  The pot was a large restaurant type multi gallon thing more than half way full.  It sat on a propane burner with a propane tank nearby.

	A large burly man wearing a “Fuck the Cook” dirty smock was yelling at a young boy, shaking him and slapping his young face.  The man was very large, beer belly and too much ham on the plate.  But not particular “fat” in the sense of being “fat”, just big and burly.  He needed a shave and a haircut as his dark hair was way-way too curly with “locks” dangling out behind his very dirty ball cap.
	What the young boy’s offense was not clear, not to Dom—and not to the boy, either.  But he got chastised, shook, and slapped then shoved inside the trailer.  Dom followed.
	In what apparently was the boy’s room the Father continued his torment, yanking down the ten year old’s pants and underwear and commenced to beating him with a belt.  “Eric” thrashed about crying and trying to protect his bared ass.   But his Father was much bigger and stronger and thusly had command of torment over his young son and continued the beating until he got tired.
	“You stay the fuck away from my stuff!” yelled the overbearing man and he stomped out in a huge stinky sweat.  The boy crawled under his bed sniveling and caressing his beaten ass.
	The boy’s fat Father got a beer from the fridge and plopped down into a huge chair.  All the furnishings in the single wide by 40 foot home was more suitable for the county dump.  Dishes were all over the place, newspapers, books, magazines (including porn).  Clothes and car parts also adorned the trailer, it was an unclaimed disaster area.
	After a little while the burly man grunted, farted, and got up from his chair and made way out to his special “stew.”  He added more spices, stirred, checked the temperature, then added some meat and vegetables, plus six beers!
	Smiling he stood admiring his stew for a moment, then, farting big he returned to his humble shambled abode.  He hadn’t sat back in his chair when a knock came to the door.  Grunting he answered to find a fellow seaside dweller in peril.
	“Damn battry’s out, Jess, come give me a jump.” said a scrawny man in very dirty overalls.
	“Jess” nodded, burnt skin flesh, and followed the scrawny man.
	Dom watched them—somewhere in the rundown fleaspeck trailer park amongst tumbleweeds and tarantulas was someone with a powerful EMAD.  Somewhere.  

	Jess got into a 1970s pickup and moved it across the gravely road space to another pickup parked by an equally rundown trailer.  Dom heard, “we get ‘er going, I buy if you fly.” Which meant, Jess would buy the beer if scrawny man would fly to go get it. 
	Meanwhile, Eric had crept out of his room and peered out a dingy window.  He rubbed his still burning ass, still sniveled, and mouthed the words “fucker.”
	Then, an idea struck him.  Cinching up his pants he slipped outside and went to the stew pot.  His first “getting back at Daddy” was to hock a loogie into it.  Then he picked his nose and dropped a couple of choice boogers into the pot.  Not satisfied with that he unzipped his pants and hauled out his ten year old dick and commenced to peeing!
	He did!
	He tried masturbating but couldn’t get hard enough to produce anything significant.  He stirred the pot, hocked another healthy loogie into it, then dashed back inside the trailer.
	Checking the window he saw his Dad still over with the scrawny man still doing something with the scrawny man’s truck.  Eric picked his nose, wiping it onto the back of the sofa he was on.  His ass still burned and he rubbed it.  Then, he smiled and had another thought.
	From the fridge he got some milk and poured it into a kinda clean glass.  Then, he added some chocolate mix and then a couple handfuls of breakfast cereal.  Mixing well he drank/munched the “instant” breakfast and waited.
	For what?
	Wait and see.
	Asshole.
	Yep.
	Dom waited, too.

	The two men across the way dinked with the truck that needed a jump, whistled at some teen girls who carried laundry to the laundry house, and continued to gawk at a truck engine neither of them knew a thing about.  Meanwhile, young Eric Bambly rubbed his still stinging ass and waited.
	And waited.  And then waited some more.  
	Then he grabbed a banana that was almost too late to be eaten and wolfed it down.  He had chugged down his instant breakfast and seemed to be quite anxious for something to happen.
	Then finally it did.  He smiled and held fast a moment, checked the window to make sure his Daddy was not coming back, then dashed back out to the stew pot.
	He didn’t hock another loogie or flick a booger; instead, he pulled his pants and underwear down and angled his ass over the steaming pot—and dropped a “steamer” into the pot!
	He did!
	A fart first then a healthy four inch turd plopped into the pot.  Eric grunted and forced another smaller loaf into the stew then one more before his brains caved in.  Then he stirred and stirred the pot working in his “special” ingredient.
	A generous helping of the special spices followed by one more loogie.

	Time was still meaningless with Dom but his next “awareness” came to be that the time was evening.  The sun was setting, there were cooling breezes wafting up from the tranquil sea, and a small gathering of trailer dwellers had assembled at the Bambly trailer for Jess Bambly’s super superior out of this world stew.  It was a mix of stew and chili (and a little extra) and Jess was very boastful it was the best.
	Young Eric hid under the trailer watching.
	The assembled guests seemed to be enjoying their host’s offering, they were already pretty drunk and didn’t quite taste the distaste of their meal.  Eric waited.  And waited.  And then fell asleep waiting.  He awoke some hours later to the sounds of vomiting.
	Eric smiled.  He saw his ass beating Dad hurling and convulsing while the scrawny man he had helped earlier puking his guts out on the roses.  Other gathers had gone home and were doing likewise.  Indeed, Jess Bambly’s special stew would go down in history—well, not down exactly…

	Of course, once you fuck pussy—you want to fuck it again.  Louis Gordon couldn’t get enough.  Humping his hand was one thing, humping his bed and Mom’s panties was one thing—but actually humping pussy!?  That was Fucking-A fantastic!  And it was even sweeter ‘cause Maggie was willing.
	Maggie’s Mom worked in the nearby town and often worked overtime.  This gave Maggie personal time for shenanigans.  She felt kinda badly for engaging naughtly with Louis and not his brother who obviously could use some good pussy.  Maggie kinda doubted that he had “gotten” some from some girl.  He was nice and according to Louis hadn’t had a girlfriend.  (although, it wasn’t necessary to have a girlfriend to get laid.)

	Maggie made a mental note to do something for Alex—like sex, a blowjob or full out and out sex.  But later, after she had taken some special pregnancy preventors.  In lieu of Alex, she had his little squirter, Louis.  It was not unusual for the young boy to be at her home, and there was a back door to let him in unobserved just in case a nosey neighbor had wandering eyes.  Once inside there was little in the way of foreplay or introductions—they knew what was up and what the “visit” was for.
	Maggie led her young stud to her bedroom and quickly began stripping off her clothes.  Louis’ cock got hard—mightily hard just watching her undress.  It was quite thrilling, mesmerizing, enchanting.  He was still undoing the buttons on his shirt while Maggie was already naked.  His young pud already starting to soil when Maggie began pushing down her panties.
	That was nice.  The act of the girl sliding her underwear down got the young boy very muchly excited.  He shivered all over and it felt like he was having an orgasm right then and there.  (and he practically was!)  Maggie smiled and came nakedly to him and helped him out of his clothes.  
	Once more she fondled his little puddling, balls, and ass.
	Once more, Louis was awed into a near stupor.
	Maggie took it all in—literally.  Once more she sucked on hid growing happy pud, slurped on his hairless nuggets, and brought the boy to a new level of AHHHHH.  She sucked and sucked, then had him suck her.  Louis, like many boys/men, was fascinated by girls’ titties.  Maggie, at sixteen, had normal sized hooters of a pleasing variety.  They were nice and round, soft, supple, and just right for ogling and putting one’s dick between.
	Lust on the bed came nextly.  Maggie had a nice room, a little cluttered with books piled here and there, and over there.  But it was kinda neat and tidy.  Kinda.  She had a single wide bed pushed against the wall to give the room more room.  Sitting on the edge of the bed, Maggie, spread her legs and let her young stud have a nice look at her cunt.
	And so he did.  He was still in awe and wow mode and marveled at the bare naked pussy before.  Maggie fingered her pussy, spreading her legs wider, spreading her cunt lips and giving the boy a serious education.  Then, after more than an eyeful, the young lover was put off no longer and came hither unto the girl, cock first.
	Maggie couldn’t hold off any longer, either.  Gleefully and almost hurriedly she brought the baked youth to her sex, gliding his cock up and down her already moist cunt.  Louis was simply beside himself and could only let Maggie do the directing.

	Young Louis couldn’t quite remember exactly the details of his liking the first time the bathroom; but the second time humping Maggie’s pussy was more memorable.  And so would be the third, fourth, fifth and any other subsequent time “humping Maggie’s pussy.”
	Maggie enjoyed their illicit unionship, too; very muchly.  She seemed to get more out of it than did her young lover.  It was the illicitness of their actions that made it so enticing for Maggie.  It was illicit, wrong, slightly illegal, immoral, and so forth.  Louis didn’t have a big cunt pleasing cock, didn’t squirt a great deal of sperm; but Maggie loved it just the same—if not more so.
	After young Louis had given his all, they rested.  Maggie continuously caressed his naked butt, pulling his cheeks open to diddle his personal hole—which freaked him out a little but he let it be.
	They moved to the bathroom where they bathed—together.  Here young Louis found a new pleasure albeit a little weird.  After just sitting in the bathwater sloshing about some being giddy, Maggie had Louis stand up.  She played with his stiffy some more and he seemed a little anxious.
	“Gotta pee?” she asked coyly.
	The little boy nodded that he did.
	“Don’t you pee in the bath?”
	Louis blushed and grinned and didn’t particularly give an answer one way or another.  Maggie toyed with his pud, “Go ahead if you gotta.”
	This only confounded the naked youngster even more.
	Maggie grinned and blushed herself, but continued working Louis’ puddling trying to coax it to pee—to pee on her.  Louis was even more flabbergasted than ever; but he did manage to finally get a stream going and once it was going there was no stopping it.  His piss splashed onto Maggie’s tits—Maggie herself directing the splash (even some on her face!)
	After getting all squeaky clean—it was time to get dirty again.
	After Louis’ bladder emptied, Maggie washed/rinsed herself off, sucked on Louis’ cock a little then they both got out of the tub to dry.  Maggie dried Louis while Louis dried Maggie.  Then, Maggie positioned herself against the lime green tub, spread her legs (and ass) and beckoned your young stud to “take her” (in the ass.)
	Young studly Louis wasn’t opposed.

	A blowjob, a titty fuck, in the cunt, and lastly, Up the Ass.  Wow.  What a day!  Could it get any better!?  Louis headed for home after his shenanigans with Maggie—her Mom had come home and it was time for Louis to get to his.
	Along the way…
	Number 22  Maschier
	The Maschier trailer was a single wide with extensions in the living area and the master bedroom.  Like many of the others in the Starlight Park, though, it was a little rundown.  Gabe Maschier ran the household there, a single Dad who kept to himself and barely spoke to anyone around him.  He had a daughter, one, Emily.
	As Louis passed by in the fleeting rays of day taking the back bike path behind the trailers he heard Emily once more being spanked.  Louis cringed as he heard little Emily crying “Please stop, Daddy, please—it hurts, it hurts!”
	Louis held fast a moment and was both scared and angered.  The screams of little Emily (ten yrs.) finally stopped.  Louis remained still but then hustled on home.
	Dom lingered and peeked in on the Maschier home to see what what.
	What-what was young Emily (ten yrs.) was naked on her bed being sodomized.  Oh!  Her naked Daddy was behind her deeply into the girl’s butthole, forceful, and determined.  The little girl’s room was a little cluttered with toys, clothes, books, and so on.  It was a small room but had a fishy tank on a small desk.
	Emily’s ass cheeks were blistered red.  Her long brown hair in a myriad of curls slung all around her bare shoulders as she endured being rammed in the ass.  Her pretty head with a sort of flat face banged against the greenish paneled wall of her room as incessantly she was humped.
	Finally the man got his nut and pulled out—after straining and seriously pumping hard to get every last ounce of love out he could.  His powerful hands gripped the young girl’s ass hard as his cock schlepped strongly into her hole.  His face contorted into a horrid misshapen manner until finally all of his love cream did spew.
	With his powerful dong out of her tortured hole he slapped the child’s ass, thrusting down between her legs to glide hard against her unfucked cunt.  Then, before his cock softened he made her suck it.  Grabbing a handful of her lovely hair he pulled her to his manly organ.  Holding his sex at the base he flopped his cock against her face before shoving it into her unwilling mouth saying “Suck it or take the belt!”
	Little Emily didn’t want to do either but relented in taking the cock to her mouth.  She gagged, spurted, retched, and went thru the motions of being sickened from the horrid deed.  Her Daddy humped her mouth and managed to maintain a hardness for a couple of minutes more.
	After pulling out he slapped the girl’s face; the force of the slap sent her reeling backwards on her messy bed.  Her off-pink panties still entangled on her ankles.  Daddy Gabe paused a moment to linger and stare at her nakedness.  As Emily embarrassingly started to close her legs, her Daddy told her “NO!” and went to his knees holding her legs open himself.
	He lusted.  He lingered and lusted as he stared at his child’s pussy.  It was bare of hair AND unfucked.  He made noises, sounds of a pleasing nature—“Ohhhhhh” and other unmentionable sounds of pleasure.
	Licking his lips he “went down.”
	Emily was shocked and awed.  She blinked her pretty brown eyes and stared thru her Daddy to the crappy green wall behind him.  Her ass still stung from the recent belting and her asshole still hurt greatly; her face still stung horribly and there was a incredibly disgusting taste in her mouth.  But having her holy licked was something beyond comprehension.
	And her Daddy did lick—a lot!
	The man licked and licked and licked; then sat back, keeping his daughter’s legs open.  He said nothing, just stared at her glistening slobber covered cunt.  
	He breathed hard and thought harder.  
	Then, in a moment of reality he stood up quickly, picked up his belt (and clothes).  “Next time, little girl, when I tell you to do something you better fucking well do it!” and he stomped out leaving Emily frightened and confused.  Before Dom left he saw the little naked confused child finger her self.  She did!

	As Dom went on his way he once more was alerted to the strong presence of an EMAD.  It was close, somewhere.  But where!?  The fleeting rays of the setting sun were mere minutes.  Dom could see well enough regardless if it were day or night but preferred the Day for more precise clarity.
	But as fleeting as was the day, so was the presence of the EMAD.
	Dom began to wonder—was it him?  Was he losing what was left of his mind?  Was it that “wishful” thinking, that desire of want?  

	No.  It couldn’t be.  Someone with a powerful Electronic Mind Altering Device was close by.  Somewhere.  Somewhere in the Starlight fleaspeck trailer park amidst tumbleweeds and tarantulas was someone with a powerful EMAD.  Somewhere. 

	Philton  Number 31
	It was a little bigger than most having two single trailers married into one another to create a redneck double wide.  A chain link fence surrounded it, a fire tire flower pot adorned the front yard with another questionable swing set in the front yard that was in serious need of upkeep.  The remains of a small pickup was in the yard as well.
	A midsize pickup pulled up out front and an average heighth man got out along with a wee little girl.  They made their way thru the questionable gate and up the covered porch.  They man knocked on the trailer’s door while the little girl rang the crappy doorbell.
	And then they waited.
	And waited.	
	And waited.
	There was lights on in the trailer and the porch light was on, too.
	They waited.
	And waited.
	And then there was life as the door opened and there were greetings.
	And all the while the man and little girl (about 7yrs) waited—the man was rubbing himself.  Hands on the little girl’s shoulders he moved down to caress her chest and “bump” himself up against her.  Dom was curious—aren’t you?

	Inside the double wide was not as bad as most; a little cluttered but that was about the norm for trailer life living.  Olding furniture but usable, a large living room—thanks to the squashed trailers; a small kitchen with a breakfast/dinning area featuring a 1950s card table serving as interim dinning table.
	The man, Gary, hugged the lone occupant of the trailer, Linda.
	Linda was obviously handicapped in the way she walked.  She had a pretty face—but from there down left a lot to be desired.  A lot.  Pudgy.  Big breasted, big butted, and suffering from unable to bend her ankles resulting in her candidacy for Monty Python’s “Funny Walk” program.  Birth defect.  The defect disabled her ability to properly exercise resulting her “pudgy” status.  
	She was married.  Gary asked about the hubby, “Where’s Mike?”

	“Mike” (a different Mike from the earlier segments) was working OverTime at his new job.  
	“Kissing ass, eh?” Gary joshed.
	They were friends, good friends.  They had been camping together, traveling together to theme parks, and known one another under a year.  But they all were good-good friends.  Good friends.
	“And the young’uns?”
	“Trisha is at a friends (in the nearby town) and Ricky is at my sister’s.”  The sister had children and one of them was having a birthday party.  Also in that nearby town.
	Linda was nice—‘specially in the face.  Gary didn’t regard her in a “sexual” manner—it was those incredibly huge titties that turned him off.  He didn’t mind a big busted gal, but THIS gal had HUGE TITTIES.  It wasn’t so much that they were jumbo sized but that they sagged—big time.  
	And he had fucked her—three times, AND gotten a blowjob from her—all in the presence of her hubby and his best friend, Mike.  While camping—with Mike and Linda’s kids, Gary tented with Mike and Linda while the kiddies shared a smaller tent nearby.  Mike, Linda, and Gary slept nakedly and didn’t do any “sleeping”.
	The other naughty times was at the house.
	Gary met Mike while at a mutual friend’s house (in town) and after time with the mutual friend they stepped outside to go their separate ways Mike and Gary did and got into an hours long conversation ranging from such topics as the environment, corrupted government, pornography, the Roman Empire, the Jesuits, the Vatican, and girls who were “flat chested and hairless.”
	It was Gary who brought up and snuck in the latter, a so-so way of testing the waters of his new found friend.  Gary was a big time pervert but he kept it to himself as the times of the days it was necessary to do so lest ye wish to spend time in small confined places with big burly brutes who wanted to make you their personal soap…
	From that meeting by the curbside to camping.  The first camping out was just to continue feeling one another out—likes and dislikes.  Gary brought a small collection of porn mags, one in particular featured underaged delights.  Mike like—a lot!
	The two men eyed young delights in human form about their daily lives with mentionings of “I’d like to have her!” along with other sayings that would be inappropriate among other people.
	Then Mike got a home computer.
	Then Mike got porn.  Specifically child porn.  And lots of it.

	Gary and Mike spent a lot of time together in a small cramped “computer” room at Mike’s trailer.  It was stuffed to the ceiling with books mostly, old-old books as Mike was a “collector” of old-old books; the classics, folklore, history, and so on and so forth like that there.
	Gary and Mike also jerked off together (at the images depicted on the computer screen.)  Linda was included at times, too—sucking the men off, going naked and being fucked while the men stared at the young “flat chested and hairless” girls on the computer screen.
	Trisha and Ricky often went amok in the trailer—naked.  Mike sometimes caught his almost teenage daughter masturbating on her bed, she often slept naked ‘cept in winter.  Son Ricky did sleep naked.  The girl and boy shared a room—it was kinda large but very cluttered.  Very.
	Gary, of course, wanted to know if there was any hanky and or panky going on.  Mike told of some, but Trisha “wasn’t that way”, nor was Ricky.  Trisha wasn’t embarrassed about her body, she was eleven and had boobies and hair on her cunt and wasn’t embarrassed about going about trailer naked OR her Daddy going about naked.  But that was about as far as she was willing to go; she wasn’t into any of the “touchy-feely” stuff, that was only for her brother.
	And of the brother, the son—Linda told of him having boners and sometimes methodically (without consciously knowing) humped on her leg while he was being read to or he was in the process of going to sleep on her.
	Linda wanted to be naughty with him—or him to her.  She wanted to suck his dick, to have him pee on her, fuck her.  But she feared that it would go wrong; he might inadvertently tell a friend and she feared losing the kids and going to jail.
	But the desire was there—it was there.
	Linda offered Gary and Lydia a soda and popcorn.  The television was on, there was a kitty cat running amok and Lydia was in glee.  Gary and Linda sat on the seriously old extra long sofa and conversed.  Lydia played with the kitty.
	After a time, the kitty made herself scarce and Lydia crawled up onto Gary’s lap.  All this time and Linda had no idea that Gar-bear (her nickname for him) had children!  She had known him just under a year, too!  And never had she been to his house (in the nearby town).  Odd, how very odd.
	Gary hugged Lydia, caressed her as any Daddy would, but with a lingering hand on her pert little kiddie butt.  She was eight, not seven.  But still, “flat chested and hairless.”  A simple top of blue with polka dots and white daises, a little lace, and a training bra but she was still “flat chested.”
	Simple blue jeans that were a little loose.
	Gary patted the girl’s butt—making sure that there was eye contact from Linda.  She was aware.  She watched with growing eyes as Gary patted then squeezed the girl’s butt.  Lydia squirmed into a new position—which was to lay out across Gary’s lap.  Gary then lightly smacked the girl’s butt then gave a very serious squeeze with a daring finger going down between her legs.
	Linda’s eyes of brown were wide-wide-wide.  She was not angered or in fear or aghast.  She gave virtually no expression whatsoever but was in a “wait” mode.  Gary smacked Lydia’s butt some more, then slipped his hand inside the top of her pants and pushed them down to expose her butt—her bare butt.  No panties.
	Linda was all eyes and when Gary’s cool blue eyes met hers, she smiled and conveyed to him “Ok.”  So Gary did, smoothing his hand all over Lydia’s bared bottom, smacking it lightly without causing pain—although, he could have and the little girl wouldn’t have minded…
	Oh?
	Soon Gary was plying Lydia’s cheeks open revealing to Linda the girl’s hole.  Gary finger probed the tight anus—then put his finger up to Linda’s mouth and she sucked it.  Then, with the lubed finger he made anal insertion and finger fucked the little girl’s asshole.
	Linda slipped a hand down inside her brown slacks.  She was wet!
	Gary was getting “wet” himself and before he made a mess he sat Lydia up telling her “find the worm!”
	Grinning and being giddy the child quickly unzipped Gary’s pants and fished out his manly manhood.  On her own (or so it seemed) she masturbated the worm, squeezing and then—on her own, went down on it!  She did!  Linda was awed.  Gary was pleased.
	Soon, Gary had Lydia naked and after a couple of minutes bobbing her sweet blond head up and down on his staff, he pulled her up onto his lap.  Linda couldn’t believe what she was seeing and thought surely he was really going to fuck her.
	Almost.  
	Gary was a man.  Lydia was a girl, a mere wee child.  Gary’s cock brushed her young vagina with some efforts to make entry.  He held her hips and gently-gently brought her down enough to whereas he managed to have the head of his manhood disappear.
	Lydia made no cries but fussed with Gary’s hair.
	Linda fingered herself.

	Eventually Linda slipped off her clothes—on the encouragement of her visiting friend.  Then, once naked, both she and little Lydia took turns sucking on Gary’s happy stick.  Both did a very good job and Gary wondered what it would be like if Linda’s hubby should waltz in.  (he more than likely wouldn’t care.)  more than likely…
	And, more than likely, he would want to try and make HIS dick disappear inside Lydia.  More than likely.
	A great quantity of love cream began to spew from Gary’s cock, a generous glob squirt splashed into Linda’s mouth, the remainder coated Lydia’s face.  With remaining strength, Gary pulled the little girl up on him so as he could rub his naughty dong against the child’s cunt.  
	On and on it went; Gary pulled the child’s butt open and lightly invited Linda to “give it a lick.”  And so she did—Lydia’s asshole.  She sucked on Gary’s manly balls, his cock shaft, too; but mostly she tongued out Lydia’s poop chute and that made Gary all the hornier.
	So horny, in fact, that he deposited the naked Lydia onto the couch and positioned Linda on the floor.  He had never fucked Linda without her husband/his best friend present.  But there’s always a first time!  And Linda was game offering no resistance.  
	Gary buried his cock into Linda’s wetted snatch and banged hard while Lydia watched, fingered herself, then laid down on the couch and went to sleep.  Gary continued humping Linda until filling her cock hungry cunt with his liquid love.
	Gary and Linda showered (together), then Gary bathed Lydia.  Linda made some mac/cheese and Lydia noshed.  They remained nude and waited for Mike—who was a no-show.  At length, Gary gathered up his sleepy child and left.  Linda fumed that Mike hadn’t gotten to join in.  He DID show—thirty minutes after Gary left!  Oh well—next time.

*

	The Roman Empire was a fascination of power and awe.  It kept the young Alex Rogan fascinated all hours as he poured himself into every page of history on the subject.  He planned on writing great papers on the most fascinating entity he knew of.  (well, he hadn’t encounter Dom, yet!)
	There, too, were the studies of the great poets, the disturbed poets, the deep and lighthearted poets of yore.  Sea battles of Britain, France, and Spain kept Alex up all hours.  Life in the fleaspeck trailer park left a lot to be desired—his only hope was for writing fantastic papers on the subjects he liked.  It also fanned his imagination.

	It also left him horny.
	Horny.
	Horny.
	Maggie Gordon was his only true friend; with the bonus of her being a girl!  But, that was as far as it went—she a girl and a friend.  Alex was a virgin, ‘cept for his hand.  He wasn’t bitter about his situation—living in the trailer park by the sea, but there were social and economic problems associated with living in a trailer park by the sea.
	It wasn’t uncommon for Alex to burn the proverbial “midnight oil” until after midnight—and then some.  Having a key he often tredged up to the Hut to grab a snack from the snack bar; then wander around the park sort of like a security guard—mostly it was for to stretch legs and snoop.
	Alex didn’t “snoop” into peoples’ abodes, though; if he had, he would have seen a lot more than he did.  All that he did see during his stretching of legs and such was Frank Holtz sneaking out of his trailer to go “visit” Erica Bathwright; Nellie Vain sneaking out of her trailer to go visit Kyle Covett.
	It was Dom Dimitri in entity form who did the better snooping.  His abilities of transferring directly thru the siding of any abode made it more enlightening.  Such as:
	Mid evening type time; after so called Prime Time Family Hour but before Jay’s monologue.  Trailer space 19  Gilrad  Inside the modest single wide that had many extensions were two young teens plus a wee little lassie.  The two teens were related directly while the wee little one was by marriage outside the immediate family (cousin).
	Larissa was the oldest at fourteen years; her brother, Farris, was twelve, but almost thirteen (in six months.)  The two were in charge of their eight year old precocious cousin who had been dropped off on them while their single Dad went out with the girl’s Mom and Dad for to celebrate the single Dad’s birthday.
	Angela was not an “angel”; she was a little obnoxious, kind of rude, and very-very spoiled.  She was pretty, though; and wearing a bright yellow dress with red belt and trim; her lovely brown hair, sweet alluring angelic face; and the way she flipped about being either unaware or uncaring that she was in a short kiddie dress that revealed her underneath put cousin Farris into fits.
	More than once during the first 90 minutes did the boy have to make himself scarce.  He dashed off to the hall bathroom he shared with his sister and grabbing up her panties from the dirty hamper he quickly beat off.  But it did little in stemming the tide of his lust as the little girl blatantly exposed herself driving Farris back to the bathroom…

	Little Angela had a medical condition requiring the heavy use of meds.  She was a goer for some hours but had to take meds to keep her regulated.  And it was the meds that made her a true “angel”; in the since that the meds “knocked her out.”  Out cold.  The meds made her loopy, goofy, and susceptible to anything and everything.  Oh!  Getting ahead of myself there…
	Ten minutes after the little angel had taken her required meds and she was “loopy.”  She was too keyed up to drop of to slumberland right off.  Larissa was watching a program on the television with Angela laying partly on her lap amidst popcorn and such when Farris made an appearance and caught the ass flesh of the little girl.
	He didn’t mean to stand and stare but he couldn’t help it and did.  Sure she was eight, almost nine; she had a nice enough body and the only other girl he had seen up close and personal like was his sister.  But she was his sister, he wasn’t supposed to have lurid thoughts about her.  Living in a single wide—sure he had seen sis naked, in her panties, naked.  They each had their own room only sharing when there was bad weather—neither liked bad weather and bad weather at the seaside was bad.
	Farris thought himself a pretty decent guy and tried not to think of his sister in a sexual way.  But he DID use her panties to help him “get off.”  Seeing little Angela’s ass flesh popped his softening boner back to serious hard status.  He had only cum off once so far during the girl’s visit.
	Larissa threw him a look, a smile, and a missed conveyance.  SHE was pretty, Larissa was.  Blond, a sort of flat face with beautiful eyes of dazzling blue.  Her mouth was quirky, almost receding inward but not by a deformity.  She had a dainty nose, too.  
	Angela had raven dark hair and was just beginning to sprout boobs.
	Yellow matching panties she wore with exposure of one butt cheek.  
	Farris, with flaming red hair he had gotten from his Irish heritage, stood in trembling repose.  Larissa dropped her hand to Angela’s ass, patted it, and once more tried to convey something to her brother.  Her brother once more missed the message and fled back down the hallway to the bathroom…
	Ten minutes later and he was back.  As he approached the sofa, Larissa tossed him some panties.  Yellow panties.  Angela’s panties.  Farris blinked his eyes in awe.  “WTF” on his face.  Larissa then pulled up Angela’s shortie dress to fully reveal the cousin’s ass.
	Farris was about to flee once more when Larissa said, “You don’t have to leave.”
	Farris froze.
	What did that mean?

	“I know what you’re doing, in the bathroom.” Larissa added.  “You don’t have to hide it from me.”
	“I-I don’t?  Y-you do?”
	Larissa nodded, pursed her lips and smiled.  She had a nice smile (and a nice body!)  
	Farris looked suddenly down to gawk at his suddenly engorging cock.
	“Holy shit!” he blurted.
	Larissa was trying to look, too.
	“Problem?” she asked.
	Farris was strangely not embarrassed, just shocked and awed.
	“I-I think it’s doing something.” he said nervously.
	Then, Larissa did so infacto reach out and coupled her brother’s balls.  Her brother’s dick seriously engorged itself and surged making quite a prominent “bulging” outline thru his pants.  Larissa worked her fingers up and down the shaft—smiling and giggling and being more naughty than Farris ever could imagine.  He had no idea!
	Up and down until finally Ferris was ready to blow.  Larissa must of known as she unzipped her brother’s pants and fished out thru his underwear his boyish cock.  For being twelve, Farris had an underage cock.  Larissa really didn’t know the difference, nor did Farris.  She handled his cock, stroking with her fingers going about the erect shaft going up and down making it stronger and harder.
	Pre-cum already glistened on the boy’s nob, incredible sensations never before felt surged throughout his young body.  It was overwhelming—and he liked it!
	Larissa giggled and blushed some.  Farris was beside himself and was at the point of not being able to stand it—meaning that “blast off” was imminent.  Slowly he began rubbing/humping on cousin Angela’s ass.  OOOOOH that felt good.  Larissa giggled more and “helped.”  Firstly she helped with the rubbing then repositioned Angela so as whereas Farris’ cock could do a better job.  That is to say he was able to get between the girl’s cheeks and hump-a-lumpa.  He poked the girl’s tight virgin poop chute and could very well penetrate it but he held back and humped the cheeks.
	Larissa masturbated him and got a little of his brotherly love onto her hand.  Slowly she pulled her brother to her; when he got up to Angela’s head he really began to hump.  Larissa paused a moment and then—then she pulled off her top.  Farris methodically humped his little cousin’s head totally enamored with his sister’s bared chest.  Small delectable delights were presented to him; small globes that were just the right size (for her age.)

	Larissa then returned to stroking her brother’s cock, bringing him right up to her where he could rub himself against her freshly bared breasts.  It was mindblowing for the young boy—he was no longer in control of himself whatsoever.  Larissa fondled his balls and worked his cock subsequently bringing her brother’s erection right up between her budding teen breasts.
	The glistening tip of Farris’ cock touched his sister’s mouth.  She flicked her tongue out and diddled the piss slit; then rolled her tongue about the super sensitive crown before her lips went over and engulfed (the head.)
	 Then, all the way down.  All the way.  Then, all the way up.  Then all the way down.  Then all the way up.  Then, run tongue about the sensitive head, diddle the piss slit, cup the balls, and receive a generous portion of brotherly love…

	Ball scroggin’.  Farris seriously humped the head of his cousin while his sister sucked his cum squirter.  His balls scrunched up against Angela’s head while his brotherly love tool was continuously tantalized by his sister’s mouth.  Farris was experiencing pure nirvana.
	But it was to get even better.
	Better?  What can be better than a blowjob and seeing your sister’s teenage titties?
	Nakedness.  Seeing your sister naked; ‘specially her coochie.
	Larissa pulled her head back smacking her lips; her brother’s sperm anointed her lips.  She continued grinning and laid herself back, shoulders to the arm of the sofa, angling her butt down.  Then she began undoing her jeans and shucking them.
	Farris was mesmerized and stopped humping Angela’s head.  He did, in fact, sit ON the girl’s head, his balls right on her eyes!  Slowly he fondled himself watching his sister.  Sure he had seen her naked, in her panties, swimsuit.  But no lingering lustful looks.  Sure he had heard her rip a butt blast and sure she had seen him naked and so on.  But not on purpose.
	Larissa slid her panties off along with her pants.  She kicked them to the floor; afterwards, she rested an ankle on the coffee table while hooking the other onto the back of the sofa—thusly exposing the whole of her nakedness.
	Farris stared and stared at his gushing naked sister.  
	“Whoa!  Fuck!” he blurted.
	Larissa giggled more and blushed harder.

	Fingering her pussy seriously enticed Farris and put the young near teen boy into serious hard-erect mode.  Larissa’s fingers worked her pussy; it was masturbation—a girl’s way of pleasing herself.  Farris understood.  It was intoxicating as well as enlightening.  Larissa positioned herself even more downward on the sofa so as Ferret Face (nickname) could get an even better exam of her clam.
	He did.
	Then, with a little encouragement from the unseen entity in their midst, Farris “went down” on his sister’s cunt.
	Sure it was a little musty and reeked a little of recent pee; but Farris didn’t care and noshed happily.  His first time!  He took in all the nuances of his sister’s pussy—the shape, the smell, the look and feel and taste of it.  All of it.  
	But he could only go so long, he could only stand so much.
	So could his sister.
	She was horny.
	Farris was horny.
	The entity was horny.
 
	His first true fuck.  What the matter if it was his sister?  She was willing (without Dom’s influence.)  Farris was the one who had been reluctant—but not in the since of horrified or something; there was a twinge of knowing that it was his sister—big deal; from what he heard (and knew) many brothers and sisters, cousins, etc. were sexually involved with one another.  It was a given.  
	But it was his first time.
	But once the head of his cock touched the lips of his sister’s cunt—all inhibitions were nullified.  On his own he plunged his staff into his sister’s entrance and natural instinct took over from there.  Lightly did Larissa worry about getting impregnated by her brother.  She made a mental note to either get him some condoms or go on the Pill.  
	Farris fucked like a rapid rabbit.  The feeling in his dick was beyond measure and he literally was no longer in control of himself.  He fucked madly but still enjoyed the fuck—as did his sister.  She clung to him, scratched his back, squeezed him, squashed her breasts against his bare chest, wrapped her legs about him, and bumped her ass against Angela’s head.  All in the pursuit of sexual bliss.
	That came in mere minutes…

	How much “bliss” Farris deposited into his sister’s quim wasn’t known, but it thoroughly wore the young man out and he basically was useless.  He lay heaving, sweating, and still cumming with his cock still inside his sister’s cunt.  Larissa was exhausted herself and it felt like to her that she was peeing.
	She almost wanted to kiss her brother—not the polite family kiss on the cheek, either.  She held off, though, reserving her First Kiss for a normal boy her age—or older!
	Finally Farris managed to pull out.  The three of them together in a heap on the sofa made things interesting—not difficult—interesting.  Farris maneuvered himself to where cousin Angela’s head was on his lap.  (and it was to note that Larissa was not—NOT a virgin.  There was no blood coating her brother’s cock, balls, or thighs.  Although, some girls had a very thin membrane while others simply didn’t have much cherry juice to bust.)
	Larissa fingered her satisfied cunt—it was steaming and could actually do with another fuck.  She settled herself with fingering while Farris casually rubbed his fuck stick against their cousin’s head.
	‘put it in her mouth.’ a Voice inside Larissa spoke.
	“Put it in her mouth.” giggled Larissa.
	Farris blushed, grinned, and stared down to his slumbering cousin.  The boy was—Irish—very Irish with a mop of untamed red hair, freckles galore, and Irish appeal all over.  He waggled his cock and sperm coated the child’s face.  Slowly his cock strengthened and into her mouth it went.
	Working her head, Farris got a “blowjob” from his precocious cousin and soon was seriously humping her mouth and face.
	‘stick it in her cunt.’
	Farris heard the words and though he didn’t pause physically he paused a moment in mind motion to hash the command.  Slowly he moved down, humping her chest and undeveloped breasts.  Larissa maintained a constant fingering of her sex and when her brother was down resting his cock against Angela’s cunt, she took holt of the girl’s legs holding them back—helping in the angling and ease of penetration for Farris.
	Farris didn’t linger or pause but rubbed the head of his engorged cock up and down the smooth virgin entrance.  He poked the entrance, moved up and down the slit and humped the outside of the pussy before poking her equally virgin asshole.
	‘put it in her!’ the command of the Voice was greater, stronger, forceful.  Farris sweated and felt his heart beating hard in his chest.  He knew it was wrong to fuck his young cousin.  She was young, unaware, and young.  Farris had some morals—some.

	So drugged was the little girl, though, she made not an indication whatsoever that she had been penetrated.  Her cousin’s near teen cock slid with some effort into her sex, breaching her young membrane guarding her inner sex.  His cock stabbed not so nicely into her sinking fully inward and then back out to be disgusted by the sight of blood.
	Larissa used her panties to wipe the blood from her cousin’s cunt as well as from her brother’s dick.  “It’s alright,” she told, “that’s supposed to happen.”
	Farris was still a little grossed out—but on encouragement from his Inner Voice, he put himself back into Fuck Mode and fucked his cousin to orgasm.  She, of course, didn’t experience the joy of orgasm—but Farris did—and HOW!
	Like with his sister moments earlier, Farris experienced hellacious orgasmic bliss.  It was terrific!  He pumped hard, finding incredible delicious orgasmic pleasures not just from the super sensitive head of his dick but from his shaft as well.  
	At length he learned to slow the pace and “strain” in the attempt to jam himself completely inward as if trying to get his balls inside her, too.  Then rapidly he pumped finding the achievement of orgasm just within his grasp.
	‘suck his cock.’
	As Farris pulled out squirting gobs of cum all over Angela’s pussy and belly, Larissa went down and sucked her brother’s cock clean, as well as lapped up the spillage on their cousin.
	‘go take a shower—together.’
	“Let’s go take a shower.” Larissa giggled.
	Farris was all for that and the two sibs left their naked fucked cousin on the soda and went to shower and enjoy one another in the shower.  Dom the Entity moved onto the young girl, clearing her mind for when she would wake up and find her cunny super sore.  It took a little doing but he felt himself fucking the girl himself.  He wasn’t, though, but the past experiences helped soothe his mind and sexual lust and simulate intercourse.
	When satiated he departed the trailer and moved on.

	Delong Family Spc 17
	Two young boys sat bored to death on a crappy green tattered 1960s era sofa watching old cartoons from that same era.  Lightly one of the boys began to fondle himself—‘specially when the other turned the tv station to something more appropriate to ease their boredom.  A myriad of teen girls pranced about in skimpy outfits; tumbling, running, balancing, jumping.

 	Gymnastics.
 	The boys smiled and were no longer quite so bored.
	The lights of a car came stabbing into the gloom of the better-than most-trailer.  “She’d better brought pizza.” said the one who operated the remote control.
	“I’m kinda tired of pizza, actually.” said his friend.
	“What else is there?”
	“Fish sticks!” and pussy.  But lacking pussy—FISH STICKS!
	A teenage girl came into the house sighing and reeking of pizza.
	She didn’t say much if anything but tossed the pizza boxes onto the kitchen table.  “Soda’s in the car.” and she headed down the hall to the bathroom.
	One of the boys went out to “fetch”, the other tore open the pizza and helped himself—still massaging his aching unsatisfied boyish cock.  Once the other boy returned, he paused to peer down the hall.  A Devil’s smile was etched on his face.  He was ten, his best friend was ten.  The girl down the hall in the bathroom was sixteen and the boy who had fetched the soda was her brother.  “Come on!” he chirped and sneaked down the hall into a bedroom.
	It was the boy’s bedroom, kinda cluttered but atypical of a boy his age.  Into the small walk-in closet the two went moving some toy boxes revealing a “hole.”
	The “hole” peered into the adjacent room which was a bathroom.
	The teenage girl was just standing up from using the toilet.
	“Damn!” bitched the girl’s brother, “We missed it!”
	but not quite.
	The girl turned on the shower, fussed with her hair, then began undressing.
	“Oh shit!” blurted the other boy.
	Both boys were in total shock and awe and delighted beyond belief.
	Karla wore shorts, brown used to be jean-type short, long legged.  She pushed them down along with her pink panties and stood back up removing her teeshirt top and bra.  The boys hiding in the closet were stupefied beyond imagination.
	“Whoa!  Shit!” exclaimed Walter, Danny’s friend who’s sister (Lisa) was unknowingly stripping for them.  
	Lisa fondled her very nice teenage breasts then—THEN fingered her pussy!  The boys in the closet nearly lost it.  It was a mere brief glimpse of her cunt but it was a glimpse of a teenage girl’s pussy nevertheless.  

 	She also, before stepping into the shower scratched her butt, pulled the cheeks open and “got after it” (fingered her hole) then farted a “chainsaw fart” effect.  Walter and Danny totally lost it—luckily Lisa was in the shower with the shower radio on or she would have heard their boisterous fit of laughter.
	The boys had raging hard-ons and there was nothing to do but “whip ‘em out.”  So they did.  They had mildly done so before but they had been rather sheepish about it—mostly in the guise of peeing in the wilds.  But in the closet they shirked their embarrassment and hauled out their stiffies and proceeded to nicely whack off.
	Neither boy had ever really completed a whack job; usually they tired out, got bored, or just didn’t achieve that lofty goal of orgasm.  But there was nothing wrong with trying!  So happily they stroked themselves; then—
	‘stroke him.’
	There was a pause—albeit brief, but the boys switched stroking themselves to stroking one another.  There wasn’t much difference but neither had ever-ever fondled another guy’s dick.  Or balls.  Or ass.  the boys wrapped their fingers about each other’s puds and deliciously masturbated in a very pleasing manner.
	Ball fondling and ass caressing soon followed.
	And kissing followed thereafter.
	Out of the closet the boys came, undressing themselves in a hurried manner; then, under direction from the Voice in their young minds, they stood up against one another, arms embracing, hands clamped on the other’s ass—and kissed.
	Neither had kissed a girl, either.
	But they kissed each other—deeply with some passion.  Their young puds increasingly increasing in size and hardness.  It was quite a scene and soon the young lads were sweating with a strong desire to engage further in boy-boy immorality.
	And they liked it, too!
	Well, unknowingly.
	After much ado about kissing, Danny, who’s bedroom they were nakedly being naked in, slipped down his best friend’s body; kissing on his nipples and dragging his tongue all the way down the smooth-smooth body to the very erect and very hard cock.  Danny then stroked the cock quickly, fondled the balls then stroked the cock some more before kissing the head of the cock and then devouring it.
	Walter curled his toes—it was his first blowjob.  He pumped into his friend’s mouth, ran his fingers thru his friend’s hair, and reeled in the act that was illicit but was fantastic, too!
	Danny sucked and sucked and sucked.  There was some level of disgust involved in the sucking act but thanks to the Voice invader the retchings and other associated involuntary reactions to one’s first suck job were curbed.  Danny sucked and sucked and then sucked some more; pulled back and further blew his friend’s mind by sucking on his barely hairy balls!
	And one good turn deserves another…
	Walter did same unto Danny.
	Afterwards, Danny went to his bed.  Arms stretched out on the bed, his stance spread, Walter came up behind, on his knees, and began tonguing Danny’s ass.  The flesh first and then the crack.  The inner crack—then the hole itself.
	‘get your tongue in there.’
	Walter stronger forced his tongue to his friend’s super tight funk hole, luckily it was “clean” and the boy hadn’t farted in a while, either.  Walter licked and licked and finally was at an explosive moment and stood rubbing his throbbing hard cock all over his friend’s ass with sole intent at penetration.
	Walter was in.  Thrusting away with his hands on his friend’s ass humping—humping—humping.  His first fuck.  It didn’t matter whatsoever that he was fully immersed up his friend’s crap chute—not in the least.  A hole was a hole was a hole to fill.  It no longer mattered if it was a boy hole or a girl hole—no longer.
	He was at the point of achieving that lofty goal of orgasm when—
	‘STOP!’
	Walter, though, was at the end of his humping and squirts of his cum was already soiling awaiting turds in Danny’s bowels.  But he slowed down, strained, and released a great quantity of his love cream.  He was particularly satisfied with the ordeal ‘cause of the interruption.
	‘go to the closet!’
	Walter and Danny returned to the closet and peered thru the hole—narrowly missing the event of their lives—Danny’s teenage sister, Lisa, shaving her cunt!  She was!  Standing outside the shower, sixteen year old Lisa had hooked a foot up to the non-counter supported sink; then, after some stretching (and missed farting) she applied a layer of shave cream to her not really very furry cunt.  She was right in the middle of her ‘middle’ when the boys returned to the closet peephole.
	Neither boy was aware that a girl shaved herself there.

	After shaving she wiped her now hairless cunt, washed it with a washcloth then stood before the sink fussing with her hair that was wrapped in a towel.  She scratched her butt some more, stretched, and then fussed with her face before picking up her cast off clothes and darting out of the bathroom to her own room.
	Sperm coated Danny’s ass as his best friend had humped against him all the while they had spied.
	‘hmmm, let’s not waste it,’ the Voice said to each of them, go outside—into the hallway.’
	The boys complied.  They stood nakedly with cocks hard (and dripping.)  Moments later and Lisa’s bedroom door that had been closed—opened.
	‘come in.’

	‘since she’s YOUR sister,’ the Voice said, ‘you get to go first.’
	Lisa lay nakedly with a freshly shaven cunt on her bed.  The girl’s room wasn’t as cluttered as most but could stand a little cleaning up.  But when you don’t care of simply don’t give a fuck—why bother?  Walter and Danny approached the naked teen, Danny’s eyes wide as he took in the fullness of the nakedness of his teenage sis.
	Jenny Ophman filled his mind—so did a few other girls he knew from the park, Maggie Gordon for one for certain; girls he had seen in their bathing suits--some girls brief accidental glimpses of them in their underwear, and a good imagination, too.  
	Danny came unto his sister, she seemed asleep ‘cept her eyes were open and she was fingering her pussy and fiddling with one of her breasts’ nipples.
	‘put your tongue to her first, stupid.’
	Danny was clueless in the ways of sex, depravity as a whole, and especially any regards to “foreplay.”  But under the direction of his Inner Voice, he was schooled.  While best friend Walter stood by masturbating, Danny Delong went down on his sister’s fresh shaven cunt.

	To describe the “taste” of munching twat—he couldn’t.  There was a freshness there, but a slight distaste (the shave cream).  There was a slickness, too.  All in all, it wasn’t bad.  It was a new experience and happily—just as happily as he had swallowed his friend’s cock—he munched his sister’s cunt.
	He licked and licked until his tongue wore out.  Then, as per instructions from his Inner Voice, pulled himself up onto his sister’s body, gliding his cock against her freshly licked out poon.
	On his own—sort of, the boy humped the gash.  It was allowed.  Ti was almost as good as being IN—almost.  The boy found great pleasure in humping the outer area of his sister’s sex driving hard as if he were actually fucking.
	Then he was in and found greater pleasure.
	It was mind boggling.  Beyond mind boggling.  His young pud not yet eleven years slid effortlessly into his sister’s quim.  It was a very unique feeling that totally overwhelmed the boy.  His mind blanked—he didn’t think of a single solitary girl he knew—all there was was to pump and pump hard into the girl he was in.  It mattered not that it was his sister.  Not.
	Slow and methodical—almost like he knew what he was doing but it was natural instinct.  The sensation his cock received was fantastic!  Every inch of his ten year old pud received copious amounts of tingling sensations that were warm and even made his balls feel good.
	It sure as hell beat beatin’ off!
	Then the tumultuous moment came where he was cumming.  Jerking was nothing in comparison and he began to speed up his pumping action, too.  It felt better and better, gooder and gooder as the faster he pumped the more incredible the sensations were.
	Finally, and suddenly, juts of cum began to squirt thru his cock while he continued to pump.  He strained to stretch his penis and then pumped vigorously while continuing to squirt.
	It was utterly sinsational as well as Fucking-A Fantastic!

	While Walter took his turn, friend Danny masturbated above the boy’s pumping ass.  Drops of cum spilled onto the boy’s sweating pumping lily white smooth ass; occasionally he would reach down and clutch up his friend’s flopping testicle sac; occasionally, too, Walter would reach back and spread the goo spillage all over his ass; then spread a cheek and reveal for certain his asshole.
	Walter also reached back to masturbate Danny’s cock.
	Walter took his time fucking Lisa; his hip action slowed to a near stop while he took in his best friend’s sister’s tits.  He was deeply lost in thought and screwing a girl was just a secondary thing.

	The boy did get back in the groove and with the program.  His achievement of orgasm surged thru him like a wildfire and he didn’t so much hump-pump-strain-cum-hump-pump-strain-cum as he did just fuck and jut sperm.
	He collapsed onto the teen, though—totally exhausted but totally satisfied and knew that (other than sex acts with the girl’s brother) boning a girl was tops.

	Space 7  Gannet Family
	With friends like these…
	A plus side to the night of babysitting would be the hockey game.  Free pizza, beer, all the chips and homemade chili you could eat, too.  And the ones to be babysittied for weren’t bad children and neither person who was called into service had any plans for that night—save for watching the hockey game.
	The conscripted:  Jessie Kosko and Joseph Stoneman.  
	The Subjects:       Candice Joanna, sisters Jodie and Mary Kate.
	Jessie was in the field of extermination—vermin extermination.
	Joseph was working on being a stand-up comedian but settled on teaching young minds of mush with light acting and participation in the local hockey team events.  
	Jessie also strove for the entertainment biz by honing his skills as a musician with aspirations of being something of a rocker.  He had the looks; the long dark hair, slender build, and good singing voice.  (he also had his own guitar w/amp.)
	Subjects three, Candice, Jodie, and Mary Kate; Candice.  Cute—cute—cute.  Precocious, naïve, innocent.  Candice was ten being eleven inside of six months.  She had golden hair, chubby cheeks, nice ass with budding breasts.  Jodie was six.  She was months away from seven, lovely golden hair like her sister, just styled differently.  She had a bit of a lisp but had some missing teeth to account for it.  Mary Kate was three years young with being four inside a year.
	Candice was a little put off ‘cause she wasn’t allowed to babysit.  She regarded Jessie and Joey, though, as interim “uncles” and was cool with them over to “watch” over her and her young sibs—but still put off a little.
	The girls’ Dad was best friends with Candice and her sibs, going way back to grade school.  They were close.  But still, there were some things kept to themselves. 

	The girls’ Dad had to work at a television (in town) and needed quick help.  He was working to strive for a better place than the Starlight for his girls, and himself which required him to work more and more at the tv station where he worked as a beginning journalist.
	Before the hockey game—there was the general bullcrap talking before the smashing.  So, the family noshed on pizza, chicken wings coated in searing Hell’s Fire (hot sauce) and ice cream.  The house needed a little cleaning so that was done; the girls yapped their mouths off and talked about their daily life in redneckville; Joey performed some of his latest jokes using a wild critter puppet as a member of his team.  Jessie got on his guitar and jammed for the gang and it was all good.
	Then Mary Kate had an “accident.”
	She was three and “accidents” were her nature.
	Candice was deeply immersed in Jessie guitar playing so Joey took charge of changing Mary Kate.  No problem, he liked Mary Kate and her siblings—a lot!  
	In the hall bathroom he slipped Mary Kate’s clothes off—she wore a simple Summery red checkered kiddie dress with non-matching nappy cloth short pants underneath.  The pants and panties were soaked in pee.  Joey stripped her naked and stood her up on the sink counter using a washcloth to wipe her clean.
	Casually he caressed her little dainty butt, too.
	An erection accompanied the caressing and soon he was sitting the little tyke on the toilet. Then, out came his cock.  It was hard and manly—very manly.  Easily did he coax the little one to grip it—then masturbate it.  He had learned to keep her from fondling his balls, though—until she was older as she had a bit of a “grip” and squeezed too hard.
	Into her young mouth Joey went, just the head but it was good enough.  He rubbed his naughty manly cock all over her sweet face; back into her mouth and almost to the point of ejaculating when he heard footsteps in the squeaky hallway.
	Jessie came to “check.”
	“Everything good?” he asked.
	Joey smiled and had an amazing twinkle in his blue eyes.  He moved his eyebrow up in a Saturday Night Live alum James Belushi manner.  Jessie smiled, checked over his shoulder and rubbed the heal of his hand to his own bulge.  Jessie acted the rocker but dressed like a biker.  He had the look of both fields.

	Jessie was about to “whip it out” when one of the girls made her way down the short hall.  Joey quickly returned Mr. Joey back where he belonged, dressed the little one and tucked her into bed.  Jodie was the interruptor and had to use the bathroom—badly.
	“To bad she didn’t wet her pants.” mouthed Jessie.
	“Night’s still young,” Joey said and he nodded his head indicating to his best pal he should come follow.  So Jessie followed Joey into a room that all three girls shared (as a bedroom.)  After tucking the little one, Joey pulled out of his jacket—dunt-dun-da-da-da—an EMAD.
	“It don’t have a lot of power, but it works.”
	Jessie was salivating.  “Son-of-a-bitch!” he exclaimed.  “And it really works?”
	Joey nodded.  “You remember Huey?”
	“Helicopter Huey?”
	Joey nodded, “that him.”
	“Crazy bastard still around!??”
	“Yep, and in business.”
	“Flying choppers into canyons again?”
	“Nope, new venture—porn!”
	Jessie smiled.

	In the living room, “Candy” messed with an acoustic guitar her Daddy had gotten for her birthday; she wasn’t very good but it was due to lack of practice.  She was only enthused when her “Uncle” Jessie was present.  Serious rock music blared out the stereo speakers—which was good ‘cause it masked her two encroaching Uncles’ doings.
	Jessie worried that the blaring rock music would interfere with the EMAD’s abilities.  But despite the EMAD being a rather weak low-key mind altering device, it was not hampered by the music.  The Subject was the key—she could do her homework to blaring rock music, listening to her Dad bitch, her baby sisters babbling, and talking on the phone to her best friend.  
	“Stand Up.” Joey spoke into the hands-free microphone.
	Jessie had heard the remarkable abilities of the EMADs but had never seen one in action up close and personal or in action.  He watched in awe as Candice stood up from the desk she was at.
	“Go turn the radio down.” Joey told Jessie.  It would help.
	Jessie turned the stereo off and stood right close to his best friend’s daughter-his best friend’s stunned daughter.  Joey continued.

	“Take off your clothes.”
	Jessie’s eyes widened—and cock stiffened as he watched the elevem year old begin to undress herself.  He knew that under normal circumstances she wouldn’t do so—she was at the age of serious modesty.  His cock groaned as off came her top and bra.  She didn’t have much in the way of titties but that was alright, they were small—palm sized (and mouthful size.)
	Then, down came her well worn faded blue jeans.
	Jessie unfurled his throbbing cock—there was no point in hiding it.
	Joey came up closer roving his eyes all over the young girl’s body.
	“Son-of-a-bitch!” Joey quipped.
	Jessie nodded, hundreds of bitches he knew filled his mind.  Teenage girls, friends, young adult gals he knew—everyone he knew (and didn’t but wanted to) now were a potential.  It was a little overwhelming.
	One step at a time.
	Green panties.  Tight typical bikini style panties.  Jessie hammered his cock and was near to the point of squirting.  Young Candice stared blankly straight ahead.  Red and yellow lights blinked on her shirt piled on the floor—the EMAD detectors.  
	Candice slowly pushed her green panties down and stood nudely.
	Jessie stole a look at her goodie—she was eleven and barely had development anywhere—‘specially at her goodie box.  There was some pubes there, just a light covering.  The cunt was smooth and unfucked.
	Joey smoothed his hand over the girl’s ass—Candy made not one eye blink or any other indication of “awareness.”
	“And she wont know a thing—after, right?” Jessie asked.
	Joey nodded that it was so—so far as he knew and understood.
	“We’d better check on the others.” Joey stated.
	They laid Candy on the crappy sofa, eyeing her even more strongly with great desires of doing something terribly naughty to her—then scurried down the short hall to check on the other girls.

	Little Mary Kate was asleep in her bed, sister Jodie was play talking on a pretend phone.  Jessie came in first (as a distraction); his throbbing hard cum squirter tucked nicely back inside his tight tattered (for rocker/biker status effect) pants.  He hugged the little girl, patting her butt and giving her a good body squeeze—kissing her on the cheek and distracting her well enough for her to be “zapped” and effected by Joey’s illegal to posses EMAD.

	“Take off your clothes.”  The statement didn’t work, though.  Reason was not known, but no matter—she was under the influence of the EMAD regardless.  Jessie stripped the tyke down to her skin, hoisted her onto her bed and spread her legs.
	Joey’s throbbing cock near burst out of his pants as he watched Joey undress the girl.  He was squirting her little kiddie panties were pushed down.
	“Hey,” Joey said, “put her clothes back on.”
	“Why?”
	“Forgot, we need to film this.”
	Jessie smiled.  Film.  Video.  Capture the captured on film for to sell to their mutual friend “Huey” in town.  It was an underground business that was big business and Joey was deeply involved.  
	Reluctantly, Jessie redressed Jodie.  Joseph produced some “masks”, black masks that concealed their facial identities.  Jessie produced black bandanas, to cover their heads as well as his biceps where he had incriminating tattoos.  
	The men stripped off their own clothes; then using a camera on a tripod and remote control engaged in a making a naughty video.  They went about their devilish deed, undressing the “stunned” Jodie once more.  It was hoped that the same effect of showing the young girl being undressed would be as cock hardening to the viewer as it had been to Joey.
	Jessie slid Jodie’s panties off, raised her legs; Joey operated the remote controlled video camera to zoom in on the girl’s cunt.  A LCD monitor showed Joey all that was being seen.  “Evidence” of the room, too, had to be cleaned up and tucked away so as not to reveal anything pertinent.
	Slowly—slowly, Jessie ran a finger up and down Jodie’s sweet virgin pussy.  He ached and longed for several teenage girls he knew, a couple of gals who worked at his Dad’s office, and other gals he knew casually filled his mind and he lusted terribly.
	But he wasn’t with any of them, he was with the already naked six year old of his best friend.  Parting her legs he got serious about fingering the child’s cunt; pulling a leg up and to the side revealing greatly her young nakedness.  Jessie was beside himself and barely could maintain.  A mournful look he gave his friend on the other side of the bed—Joey was stroking himself and watching with awe barely aware of keeping the camera zoomed correctly.
	The two men were already naked, they had done so while adorning their masks and such.  Jessie’s cock was already dripping cum and blast off was close at hand.  (get it, close—at hand!?)

	Up against Jodie’s thigh Jessie humped.  Cum squirted onto her body and he continued to hump with emphasis on humping her young unfucked/untouched cunt.  Joey was up on the bed working his 28 yr old manhood to the girl’s mouth.  Easily did he get her to suck—she didn’t really do much in the way of “sucking” but it didn’t matter.  His dick went in partly and he masturbated shooting gobs of fresh man spunk seconds later.
	Jessie was shooting his own spunk coating Jodie’s pussy thoroughly.

	Joey should have been a rocker—he had the tongue!  A monstrous tongue (and sizable cock) the young man produced—and though his cock had spurted a great quantity of love cream, it remained hard and ready for more action.  He brought it to the attention of Candice who was still laying out nakedly on the sofa in the front room.
	Joey’s tongue was just as long as was his dick!  Opening Candy’s legs he applied said wickedly long tongue to the unaware’s girl’s poon.  He licked and lapped, nipped the lips and drove his wicked wonder into her crevice.
	“Virgin?” Jessie asked as he set up the camera himself zooming in on Joey’s tongue action.
	She was.  That was too bad.
	But, be that as it may—Joey licked, nipped, lapped, and then spilled another generous load of “load” onto pussy.  It was a very generous spillage of which, like he had done to her sister’s face, smeared the spunk all about the girl’s entrance, working the sperm into the girl’s cunt as well as her very tight poop chute.
	Jessie masturbated into the girl’s mouth, having the camera zoom in on his action and subsequent depositing of his own love cream.  The boys were wicked—wicked!  After they had spilled their mess they turned the girl over and tested the limits of her mind lock—by spanking her.
	Not hard butt blistering spanks—but enough to turn the girl’s darling little dainty butt a nice shade of puce.  Jessie did the spanking—Joey did the zooming in with the camera.  Both men shared thoughts of kidnapping various aged subjects for their whim and profit.  Take them out to a remote locale in the desert an do terrible sinful sexual deviant things to them—just shy of out and out torture.  Then let them go.  Apparently, viewing audiences who went for sort of thing although they liked seeing Subjects raped, sodomized, peed on, spanked, lightly tortured—they also liked to see the Subject(s) react to said aforementioned mistreatment.  It’s that empowerment thing…

	But Candice “Candy” Joanna was deeply entranced by the effects of the mind numbing EMAD—which was good ‘cause both men knew she wasn’t a naughty girl.  Not yet.  After spanking and cumming on her sweet angelic face, anointing her small but mouthful breasts, and totally coating her virgin cunny, the men took a short break.
	They had some pizza, watched a bit of the hockey game, reviewed the video they had made, discussed future plans, and wondered how much profit they could actually make.
	Then it was back to making that profit.
	With Candice, the girl was positioned up against the sofa, legs and ass spread so as Joey could begin working a small diameter candle into her pert virgin asshole.  The candle was smear-coated with the spunk still laden on the girl’s body but penetrating her virgin pooper was still difficult.
	Both men deeply wanted to fuck the girl—and let her be aware of it, too.
	“Maybe we could out and out you know, just do it—kidnap her or something.” Joey posed.
	Jessie nodded, but it was their best friend’s daughter—he would feel odd hanging around afterwards.  But he didn’t completely dismiss the notion, either.
	“I don’t think we have much time left,” Jessie said noting the time on the old funky 1960s sun clock on the wall above the tv.  The hour was late and getting later.  The boys stopped with Candice and took the camera back to the others…
	Jodie and Mary Kate were sound-sound to sleep.  Which was good.  Jodie was even more susceptible to the effects of the EMAD while asleep.  So was little Mary Kate—who had peed the bed.
	With the camera rolling, Jessie and Joey did naughty-naughty things unto the children—light spanking, fingers probing their virgin cunnies; spilling more sperm onto their sweet faces, and licking them out until lights pierced the trailer.
	Daddy’s home!
	Jessie and Joey scrambled crazily putting the girls back in order—wiping up their cum and hurrying to get back into their own clothes.  They had barely gotten themselves together when the girls’ Dad entered into the ramshackled trailer.  He was worn out, nodded Hellos, saw his eldest child sound to sleep on the sofa, pizza and chicken wings everywhere, a hockey game in full swing, and a curious “funky” odor lofting listlessly in the air.

	He made for the girls’ room, just hung loose at the door so as not to disturb them then went into his bedroom and private bathroom to shower.  Jessie and Joey quickly, then, continued in their efforts to dress Candice who was only in her panties and top—no bra, no pants.
	She was wiped clean and fingered ONE MORE TIME without the camera rolling, either.  While Joey went to the girls’ room to continue clean up there, Jessie put his cock against Candy’s cunt and humped.  Though there were girls his age, young adult, older teens, women—he wanted to sink his cock into Candice “Candy’s” cunt—mouth and asshole to follow.
	Dom the Entity (still) found that the EMAD Joey had was not powerful enough to help him in his pursuit of return to human form.  Nor was it the one he was seeking in the first place.  Somewhere, still, was that powerful EMAD he had detected in Andy’s neighborhood.  Somewhere.

*

Spy games
	It was always thought that the relationship between Dan Honner and his daughter, Alicia was good—but no one knew the particulars.  Dan Honner was a decent man, worked in construction and was saving money to move from the fleaspeck trailer life to something more in the nearby town.  He lived alone with his growing teenage daughter, Alicia.  
	Alicia was fourteen and damn nice looking, sometimes some of the clothes she chose to wear for school made her look like a tramp.  Too short of skirts, super tight jeans, reeking of perfume, and her hair and make-up was more appropriate if she were making for one of the town’s “corners” to set up shop rather than go to school and learn shop.
	Other times, most times, Alicia wore typical attire and presented herself casually.  She was nice, very smart (in school curriculum) and possibly wasn’t a virgin.  While making rounds and just roving and generally snooping, Alex Rogan (remember him?) happened—just happened to see naughty goings on inside the Honner trailer.
	Inside the Honner trailer, in a teenage girl’s bedroom, Alicia Honner was naked with her Daddy behind her—licking her ass crack!  He was!  Alicia’s panties were at her ankles, her top was up over her shoulders, her bra was off on the floor by her shorts.  Feverishly did Alicia finger her sex; she moved her ass about but was mostly held in place by the strong construction worker hands of her burly Daddy.
	How this came to be?  We’ve got to back up a few paces—before snooping Alex Rogan came along.

	Earlier, Alicia had smarted off to her Dad—she had been tempting fate for sometime since becoming a teenager.  “Testing the waters” so to speak, seeing how far she could go or get away with.  She had been testing for awhile and it had been boiling inside her Dad—and erupted with her latest smart talk-back.  It resulted in her being jerked up from her chair when after she had been told to do the dishes and she popped “when I’m ready they’ll still be there.”
	Wrong answer.
	She was jerked up from her chair in the living room her pen hung in the air half a second.  Down the hall to her small bedroom where she was nearly thrown inside but was thrown against her bed.  She was fourteen and it had been a long-long time since she had been spanked.  Longer still since last she had been bare assed/bare handed spanked.
	Enraged fed up Daddy Dan took his hardened construction hand and pronounced punishment onto her ass—clad in off-pink jeans.  Alicia fussed and thrashed about as it was an assault, an affront to their relationship and she in no way wanted to tolerate the indignity.
	Then something happened.
	How to explain it she wasn’t sure—but, in essence, she got wet.
	Not “piss” wet, but sexually wet.  She had seen hunky boys at school, especially at the nearby high school.  She had seen boys at the beach in their skimpy outfits.  She had seen boys a little younger running amok naked.  All had given her a tingling feeling between her legs causing her to dash to someplace private and “get busy” with the fingering.
	Alicia’s cunny tingled.  She twisted and gyrated not so much in reeling from the spanking from her powerful Dad but from the sudden gushiness stemming from her cunny.  She was cumming!
	It was like one of those sudden skin itches—she couldn’t help it and thrusted her hand between her legs and got busy with fingering herself but thru her pants it wasn’t a good fingering and in no way satisfying.  She made audible noises and began to pump herself against her bed.
	Daddy Danny paused—he was worn out.  And it first he assumed his smart ass mouth daughter was reeling from the ass busting; but then he noted the fingers working between her legs.  All he could do was stare—only mildly become aware that he had a growing bulge betwixt his own legs.
	Then Alicia began rubbing her ass; she gyrated and it became then very VERY apparent that she was in a sexual angst.  Dan’s bulge increased and needed attention—usually he handled that personally, but suddenly his daughter sat up and leaned back—her hand brushing against him!

	It was like he were watching it from outside his body; his daughter rubbing against his cock!  He could feel the heat from her freshly spanked ass and was in a funk of disbelief.  He was further funked when Alicia undone her pants and pushed them down.  Then she positioned herself back up against her bed.
	Sure he had seen her in her panties prancing about the small trailer—it was just she and him and there were modesty but there, too, was casual wear usually a dash from the shared bathroom to bedroom; from bedroom to kitchen for a midnight snack or something like and not well dressed—if it all ‘specially during hot summer months.
	But that was different.
	Dan took a long look at his daughter’s ass clad in green panties.
	He moaned.  He groaned.  He resisted touching.  Touching was wrong.  Looking was almost wrong.  He saw many teen girls in town, at the park, and at the trailer park.  Deeply with great lust did he want to sink his bone into Maggie Gordon and Lisa Delong (space 17)—not his daughter.  Not his daughter!

	Alicia slowly slid one side of her green panties down fully exposing one half of her ass.  Daddy Dan unleashed more moans.  Alicia moved her legs to work her baring ass up against her Daddy’s bulge.  Her hands moved all over her ass and she spanked herself.
	‘spank her!’ stupid!
	Dan blinked his eyes, looked around (for security’s sake) then applied his hand to Alicia’s baring ass.  It was a weak-ass smack at best—more of a pat than a smack.
	‘aw, for crying out loud!  SMACK HER ASS!’
	Danny looked around as if someone had actually spoken to him.  But there was no one about-present.  He took a moment to gather himself—during which time daughter Alicia had pushed her panties down to fully expose both cheeks.
	Dan got a “whiff” of pussy odor.  His cock bulged more and there was nothing to do but “whip it out.”  So he did.
	All over his daughter’s teenage ass Dan’s throbbing hard cock went.  He moaned and groaned and on her own—Alicia handled his cock, guiding it, gliding it all over her pert ass with specific attention to her crack and hole.
	‘put it in her.’

	Dan gulped, sweated, and held back.  It was immoral.  It was illicit.  It was illegal!  But—it was SOOOOO right!  Holding his cock at the base he pushed the bulbous tip to the clenching rim finding resistance as resisting as he thought it should be.
	But that worry was obliterated as ten zillion nerve endings situated at the head of his cock exploded into euphoric ah.  Gripping his daughter’s teenage ass he thrust forward—deeply penetrating fully in one dynamic hump.  His hands lusted—er, rested, a moment on her hips—his cock dwelling all the way inside her ass.
	Then he began to pump.
	As he pumped—she groaned and frigged herself.  Daddy Dan caressed her still warm freshly spanked ass; then it was around her waist for the “reach around” and finding more joy in finding a seriously moist cunt.  It no longer matter one iota that she was a product of his humping her Mother (God rest her soul.)  Not one iota.
	Dan pumped and pumped—pulled out and humped her ass cheeks, dragged his cock up and down her crack and then returned to her steaming asshole.
	Alicia fingered her cunt and was actually cumming!
	Dan came, too; two minutes after penetration and juts of pent up cum squirted into Alicia’s anal tract coating all within.  He continued to pump until spent—which took an additional two minutes.  Then he pulled out and once more humped her ass marveling at his cum spurting onto his daughter’s ass (a dream cum true?) as well as marveling at his spew oozing out of her fresh fucked poop chute.
	Dan was exhausted.  Alicia collapsed against her bed she was already against, then managed to pull herself up onto the bed—and rolled over to let her Daddy see her nakedness.
	Daddy Dan saw.  His cock saw.  His balls saw.  His pent up in the closet in hiding wickedness saw.  His mind saw him sinking his Daddy dong into that sweet cunt and spewing gobs and gobs of Daddy spunk deeply within.
	Done!
	But first—clean up.
	Dan noted his cock was a little—soiled and needed cleansing and refreshing.  He moved to the hall bathroom to do the deed.  Alicia remained on her bed fingering her cunt that was tingling like never before.  Her asshole hurt and was uncomfortable (but it was NOT her first time being buggered there…)
	After a moment she moved off of her bed and into the hall bathroom.  She found her Daddy (with a clean cock) masturbating.  He seemed to be in a funk, stunned, shocked over having sodomized his precious daughter.  Alicia stepped in, Dan looked her over and got even harder and right to the brink of squirting.
	Alicia dropped to her knees, addressed her Daddy’s freshly cleaned cock, sized it up—then pressed her sweet cocksucking lips to it and did the deed Dan thought never would be possible—in regards to getting a hummer from his daughter.
	She was good, too.  A natural!  With loving caress her lips moved about his cock with specific attention to his knob.  Then it was more earnest caressing with her mouth engulfing the Daddy dong.  She retched some but that was a natural instinct; a happenstance that couldn’t be ignored.
	A minute later and squirts of fresh hot Daddy spunk squirted into her mouth.  She retched and gagged but didn’t choke despite the sperm splashing against her tonsils and back of throat.  She sucked and sucked, squeezed her Daddy’s balls and found that she didn’t particularly like his floss material.  She preferred hairless cocks of young boys…
	Oh!
	After the cock had emptied its load into her mouth Alicia sat back, smacked her lips and held back any comments she could make about the deed.  Dan was in a mind funk and could only stand on wobbly knees methodically masturbating.
	Alicia stood and returned to her room.
	Dan stared at that ass of hers, that wondrously shaped perfect for fucking ass.  Though his had just cum—twice!  His cock surged back to life.
	‘Come on, you incestuous  asswipe,’ said his Cock, ‘let’s go “get some!”’
	And so he did—after a little “dinning on the clam.”
	Dan found his daughter’s thought-to-be-virgin cunt delightful.  He reeked of pussy juices and it didn’t repulse him but excited him!  His tongue lapped all about his daughter’s juiced up juicey juice box; Alicia fussed, clenched, and farted cum.  She made pleasing moans and at length began to buck into her Daddy’s face.  
	Dan soon engulfed the whole of Alicia’s cunt sending his flicking wicked tongue into her fuckable fucked recess whereas it caused the young teen to buck-fuck her Daddy’s face!
	Once the flow of sexual delight began there was no stopping the flow of sexual pursuits.  Daddy Danny came up gliding his fuck stick against Alicia’s cunt.  He humped there a moment, or two, maybe three--

	--then it was all about penetrating, sinking forth into that glory of glories that sent unleashed glories to lofty heights of bliss.  It was a snug fit to be sure, but far from being virginal.  Dan didn’t care; virgin status of his daughter was not on his mind…

*

Dumbfoundedly getting’ some
Gettin’ some in the middle of the night on a sandy beach with crabs and seaweed and sand in your ass but at least you’re gettin’ some
	The entire park, it seemed was ‘gettin’ some.’  One way or another, Alex Rogan was gonna “get some”, too.  He was tired of humping his hand and if he didn’t get laid soon—his little brother, Louis, was going to be very unhappy (draw your own conclusions of Louis’ fate here…)
	After a “walk-around”, playing the video game (one only) at the Hut, Alex sloughed his way to the path that led down to the beach.  It wasn’t a popular beach; the trailer park was situated above and the beach was a horseshow type where the surf was kinda strong (and dangerous.)  There were better easier accessible beaches on up and down from Horseshoe Beach but you get what you get and deal with it.
	Alex made his way down the darkened beach bearing only a flashlight.  He had made the trek many times and could negotiate the cement steps blindfolded.  It was a little breezy as he touched the bottom step and the sand of Horseshoe Beach.  There were fire pits, great boulders jutting up from the surrounding canyon, waterway inlets, and “secret” places to hide and make-out and what all.
	Alex made for one of the secret places—the natural cut of the canyon wall made for the secretiveness (from anyone on the beach); other than that it was kind of open and not all that secret it just protected anyone from the buffeting winds of the open ocean.
	There wasn’t anyone around—no surprise there.  As stated, it wasn’t a popular beach, not even with the locals.  So, assuming that he was alone—Alex whipped it out.  His cock was still raging hard from seeing the goings on in his trailer park and he needed to “whack off” a bit.
	He was getting into the deed, working his pants and undies down, rubbing his ass and concentrating on just cumming off so as he would feel better and could go home and Louis would be safe when from the darkness—
	“Hi there!”
	Alex whirled around in mid stroke to find Maggie looming therein (the darkness.)
	“What the fu--!”
	“Don’t cuss!” warned Maggie; she stood up holding the top of her pants.  It was dark, the flashlight was out—but the moonlight and the ten gazillion stars provided some insight.  She had been taking a piss (so he thought.)
	Alex was greatly embarrassed and barely aware that his cock was out, stiff, hard, and ready to shoot.  
	Maggie smiled as she casually took in Alex’s offering.  “We came down here for the same thing.” she said.
	“Huh?” said a clueless Alex.
	Maggie cocked her head and gave him the “look.”
	Alex then knew that his dick was out.  When he tried to pull up his pants and underwear—he tripped and fell.  Maggie rushed to his aid.  He wasn’t hurt—just embarrassed.  Maggie helped him to stand—of which then her own pants slid down her legs, her panties were bunched up at just below her butt as they didn’t roll up (or fall down) as easily as pants did.
	Alex was barely aware of that—his embarrassment level was high and before he stumbled again pulling up his clothes—Maggie held his hands.  Maggie held his hands and placed them around her.  Maggie held his hands and placed them around her; cinching their bodies together.  Maggie held his hands gently and slowly inching them down to the bareness of her ass.
	Alex stood dumbfounded and did very little—he breathed, clenched back a pesky fart bubble, and got harder.  He realized that he was naked—that his cock was naked and nakedly pressed up against Maggie.  Had she been peeing—or something other?  The concept was mind boggling.  His cock surged and he became aware that  “Hey!  Shit!  SHE—SHE initiated this!”  SHE had put his hands behind her AND inched them down to her ass!  Her BARE ass!
	Holy shit!
	He wasn’t an idiot—despite his dumbfoundedness.  Gently and slowly he caressed Maggie’s bare ass.  Maggie herself was caressing his—then she was doing something else that cause the midlevel teen (Alex) to become even more dumbfounded—she pushed his throbbing hard organ DOWN.  Down between her sex!
	Wow!
	She was smiling, her eyes gleamed in the midnight moonlight.  She wore a perfume that intoxicated dumbfounded Alex and his grip on her ass became stronger.

	Maggie pressed her head to Alex’s chest—she could hear his heart pounding overriding the sound of the surf crashing just behind them.  Her emotions were in an upheaval (how would he feel if he knew that she was having sexual relations with his little brother?)
	Alex was just frozen with dumbfoundedness.  He felt Maggie’s soft warm ass; he felt his cock pressed down between her legs knowing that it was right down between her gash, too!  He was totally bamboozled!
	Without a doubt was Alex not in charge or in command of his faculties.  Maggie was.  Maggie caressed Alex’s bared butt, snaked her hands up inside his shirt and clung to him.  It was almost love.  Almost.  There was that pesky thing called LUST that was taking precedence.  After a moment of “clinging”, Maggie slowly—slowly—s-l-o-w-l-y inched her way down to her knees.  Alex’s pud was stiff and strong pulsing before her.  She greeted it with a smile—it was not so much indifferent than that of his brother’s—or of any other cock she had “addressed.”
	The slut!
	There was a bit of “mustiness” to the pulsing prong; Maggie didn’t care and was even draw further into lust by the odor.  Her pussy tingled and became wet with the joys of blissful sexual anticipation.  Closing her eyes she flicked her tongue out and lapped up the soiling pre-juices of Alex’s pud.
	Alex was not home.  His toes clenched inside his shoes; his eyes bulged with extreme awe; his mind was in complete overload.  It was a dream cum true—it was!
	Maggie knew what she was doing—cupping Alex’s balls her lips went over the mushroom head; tongue rolled about the super sensitive crown ridge, then the mouth was sliding down the slick musty smelling shaft right down to the base.
	Alex’s instincts kicked in and he naturally began to pump.
	Maggie clung to his balls with one hand, caressed his ass with the other and began an earnest bout of “servitude” further blowing young Alex’s mind.  She was good!  On the upswing she once more rolled her tongue about his increasingly sensitive ridge, diddled his piss/cum slit, then went back down increasing her suction on his tube.  All Alex could do was pump and endure.
	The tumultuous moment came and came suddenly with a quickness that startled Alex.  The first squirt was out before he knew it.  Then he was aware but couldn’t stop if he wanted to—and he didn’t.  His first blowjob.  Maggie sucked the life out of his cock, slurping and making horrendous sounds as she did so—swallowing all of his love.

	Alex’s cock flopped out and languished against Maggie’s face.  She continued to maintain her “hold” on the situation; holding his cum squirter, his balls, all.  She sucked on the head a bit more, the shaft, his balls, too; then she laid down working her jeans and panties off.  It was a little chilled in the night air on the open beach, but there was that rock outcropping that protected them from direct winds off of the ocean.
	Maggie parted her legs and Alex stood remaining in a dumbfounded way of being.
	‘take yer clothes off, stupid!’
	Alex blinked his eyes, was startled, looked around, “huh?”
	“What?”
	“Did—didn’t you say something?”
	‘the wind.’
	“The wind.”
	“Oh.”
	Sheesh…
	Alex peeled off his shirt and shivered a bit, the sweat on his body chilled him—but there was a way to warm up.  And what a way!  Off came his pants and undies and he was nude.  His cock was sill stiff and was ready for action in minutes.  But first!
	On instructions from the Inner Voice, Alex “went down” on Maggie.  Her cunt was wet, moist, sticky, and reeking of a peculiar odor that otherwise under other circumstances would have been appalling.  But not this time.  Alex grinned—his mind blanked out all else and quickly did he begin licking out the teen girl’s hot twat.  
	Alex was no expert on the deal of cunnilingus.  Cunt munching just wasn’t taught in school and rarely discussed among pleasant company, at home with the family, or anything of the like.  Spelunking a girl’s gash was something learned on one’s own.  With the darkness of the after-midnight the exactness of Maggie’s canyon was difficult to examine and keep in his mind for future whacking off purposes.  It was slick, the taste of her cunny was something he would remember, though.  He didn’t know what else exactly he was supposed to do—lick it, suck it, nip the “lips” and drive his finger into her asshole.
	Spread her pussy lips and work fingers into her gaping hole, too.
	Then, when she begins to buck and pussy pulses, time for that bigger finger.  Alex was near exploding before he could manage his “bigger finger” but did the deed and thought of no other girl than Maggie.
	And his Mom.
	His Mom?  Oh!

I’m just a dogfaced soldier…
	Alex was deep into spelunking Maggie’s wondrous cavern—across the small inlet/outlet waterway so was someone else.  A young man, naked, “put it to” a young woman.  She was not willing.  She was, in fact, tied up.  Her arms pulled back and tied with synthetic rope about the rock that was strangely formed like a “hand”.  And like the rock that protected Alex and Maggie, Alton and Lucy were protected in the same manner.
	The young woman, Lucy, thrashed about some in a delirious state of being; her mouth was gagged, arms pulled back and secured—legs were free, though.  But too “out of it” (or under the influence of something) kept the young woman from fighting back too much—if at all.
	The man, Alton, slammed her pussy.  He mawed her breasts and was very determined to “fuck.”  He seemed in his early twenties and somewhat violent.  All there was, for him, was to fuck.  He wasn’t gentle about it, either.  The woman, Lucy, thrashed about in a lucid state batting her eyes and staring at the man trying to figure out who he was.  But it was after midnight at in her delirium she wasn’t going to make out any pertinent details.
	Alton caressed her sandy ass as his cock plowed all the way into her.  For a white boy, and his age, Alton Noddren had a significant cunt pleasing cock.  It was more than average, more than the average white guy but in good company of the average black guy.
	Alton slowed his progress to strain every inch of his eight incher, pulling most of the way out then JAMMING back in to fully fulfill Lucy’s cunt.  But he had been tagging the young woman prior to the beach assault and though he could reach the pivotal sought after orgasmic brink—he could blast over.
	No matter, the bitch had another hole…
	Kind of angrily did Alton wrestle with her legs pushing them back, pinning them to the rocky wall and tying them to her bleeding binded wrists.  Then he went down to lick out her asshole!  Jamming his fingers into her hole he tormented the young woman who was not too much older than he himself.  Alton was a mere twenty-two, Lucy a mere twenty-six.  She was short in height, just barely qualifying for her professional status.  Lovely blond hair; a fresh lovely face and more than average titties for her age group (and size.)
	Alton blasted his tongue wickedly all over Lucy’s cunt, nipping and biting the lips; prying the lips open and driving his tongue into her recess followed by his jamming fingers before he couldn’t no longer wait and into her asshole he furiously fucked.

	Alex thought he heard something carried in the wind kissing his sweating heaving humping body.  He only listened a moment before continuing screwing his first cunt, Maggie.  Maggie looked up to him with smiles that simply told Alex he was doing good.  Alex slowed his pace and settled onto Maggie—kissing her and neverminding the fact that just moments prior she had had his cock in her mouth (so he was kissing the essence of his cock!)
	Oh!

	Alton seriously crammed his cock into Lucy’s not-so-fucked-often asshole.  But still, he wasn’t able to achieve orgasm.  Frustrated he pulled out and positioned himself up against the woman’s face and slapped her with his throbbing hardness.
	“You fucking dogfaced cunt!” he nearly screamed, “No fucking wonder they call you “Loose Lucy!”  Angrily he slapped the loose woman, working her gag out of her mouth and cramming, then, therein, his cock.  Banging her head against the craggy volcanic rock wasn’t good—for Loose Lucy and the more Alton fucked her mouth roughly, the more “damage” the rock did to Lucy till at last…
	Significant action was taking place on his cock.  He didn’t know what the fuck up and pulled out.  The woman was twitching and having some sort of fit.
	“Fucking whore!” Alton seethed.  He let go her bindings and dragged her to lay out flat on the sand.  An unpleasant odor filled his nostrils as he let go the rope binding her wrists and ankles; when moving her, a sticky icky substance coated his hand.
	“What the fuck!?”
	Examining his “loose” lover he found considerable head trauma to the back of her head.
	“Son-of-a-bitch!” he almost screamed.  A bit of panic beset him, too.
	“Son-of-a-bitch!” he exclaimed again.  He straddled the woman, slowly losing his sexual lust for her.
	“Goddamn it.” He bitched at length and remained sitting on her whilst she “faded” to memory.

	Alex felt a river of cum shooting thru his dick.  His eyes blinked excessively and Maggie was moaning, groaning, and pumping back along his shaft.  It was wonderful.  Cupping her ass Alex slowed his efforts as his cock emptied liquid love into Maggie’s dick trench.  

 	Alex began to sink, to melt.  Their arms and legs mingled and entangled; their mouths met with beginning stirrings of their passion thriving between them.  They rolled—initiated by Maggie, and Maggie came to rest on Alex.  She sat up, flung her hair about that mostly was pasted to her sweating body.  Alex stared up to her bodacious titties.  His cock made some comment or other; Maggie sat on it—nestling her cum drenched cunt on his cunt pleaser.  It was stiff, still, but had limped out a little.  No worries, Maggie quashed it with her juicy cunt then laid down on Alex to kiss him.
	Alex placed his hands onto Maggie’s ass, squeezed the cheeks and relished in their after-midnight love fest.

	With her legs pushed back, rubbed raw ankles on his shoulders, Alton slammed his cock into Loose Lucy’s asshole.  The hole WAS tighter than her cunt.  He slammed harder and harder, striving to get his nuts off.  But for some reason—it just wasn’t happening.  He could get right to the brink of blowing his load but it just wouldn’t do it!
	“FUCK!” he screamed aloud.
	He was tiring and had a long-long-trek ahead of him.
	He slapped Lucy.  “Fucking bitch!” he yelled.  Then he sat heaving and not too enthused with the situation.  Greatly was he exhausted; checking his watch made him fume even more.  A long trek ahead of him.
	The breezes off of the ocean whipping around the craggy “fingers” of the jutting volcanic rock cooled him—did nothing to soothe his mood, though.  He lay on Lucy, caressing her lily white breasts, tweaking the nipples and soon was sucking on them, biting them.  And since she was dead, he bit hard enough to take the nipple right off!
	A little grossed out by that he quit and just laid on the short woman.
	“I’m sorry.” he said at length.  Only this—and nothing more!
	Time was getting away—so much to do—so much to do!  First,
	Dig a hole.
	The sand of the secluded natural-like cave made for a good “hole.”  There was a slight overhang but mostly the cave had an open roof/ceiling.  There was the wall that faced the ocean, a back wall, a side wall, and a half-assed fourth wall that was a partial “C” butting against the waterway.
	Alton was already worn out but he dug a sizeable hole and pulled Lucy’s body into it—then he stood and urinated on her.  Then, bringing the sand back over her he made it smooth and flush.  Shaking his head he sat sadly, still cussing, still bitching.  Once more he uttered, “I’m sorry” then collected his clothes, Lucy’s clothes, and the EMAD.

	EMAD?
	Oh!
	Dom’s interest in Alex and Maggie waned and he took up new interest in Alton Noddren.  The man who was about six foot tall and of a slender build slowly put his clothes back on.  In the darkness exact description of details was difficult, but Dom the Entity had better than most in eyesight and could adjust his eyes to see a grayish world.  In doing so, details were revealed to him—such as the patches on the man’s shirt, his boots, and dogtags.
	Dogtags.
	Dogtags.
	The man was a military person!
	So had been the woman!
	PFC Noddren clutched the panties formerly belonging to Loose Lucy, Lt. Lucy Harro.  He tucked the garment into his underwear, bundled Lt. Harro’s clothes and made the climb up the natural steps that hardly anyone knew where there.
	Once on top he stopped once more to look down into the horseshoe.  He sighed and was pissed at what had happened.  “Damn it!” he bitched and kicked a rock over the edge.  Then he sighed, farted, and took off in a jog across the landscape.  Dom followed.

*

Welcome to Fort Werthafukawee!

	…the sign said illuminated by outdoor lighting.  A guard post on either side of the lone two lane road with a lift gate between.  The post was a lone installation, ten miles from the nearest town, fifty miles from the nearest city—and five miles from the beach.
	Most of the outer perimeter was guarded by fencing.  Most.  In some places there were great rocky ridges that sufficed as “fencing.”  The post was not remarkable or very important and thusly not of strategic importance to anyone in particular.  It was a base to train soldiers for desert warfare and a place to send the misbehaved or disgruntled.
	Private First Class Alton Nodden picked his way along the crags, skinning his knee, banging his shins and ankles, working his way along a narrow path—the same one he had pulled the hapless Lt. Harro hours earlier.  Then, he was “on post.”  

 	There were old supply buildings and vehicles parked to hide his Going and Coming.  Easily did he make his way to The Hard Way St., cutting across the parking lot to his three-story brick barracks.  The building faced a two lane road with a fifty yard Cal to Muster cement area with an additional twenty yard grass knoll before the road.
	There were two (actually four) entrances/exists to the building that housed two companies of soldiers.  On the right, closest to the Mess Hall and adjacent parking lot, Company “A”, Grenadier Company.  Company “B”, Communications & Supply Co. was on the left butted against a small grassy area and so-so trees.
	The top floor of the barracks housed the females of both companies.
	Company A occupied space on the 2nd floor.  Company B had the 1rst floor.  Private First Class Nodden was on the first floor.  He paused to linger at the Mess Hall.  He knew he had been seen leaving the barracks, security was often loose and depending on who manned the Charge of Quarters (CQ) desk, soldiers exiting or entering the building signed in (or not.)
	Earlier that day Alton had been up in the 2nd floor of the Com Building located elsewhere on base.  It was one of those lazy ass days where being “unseen” was the in thing.  PFC Nodden was “hiding” for a specific purpose—other than avoid being seen by someone with rank.  Down stairs in her office, Lt. Lucy Harro was doing “whatever” lieutenants do in their office.  Nodden had a “thing” for her—so did most of the company, if not base!  Nodden had arrived from Basic and Advanced Individual Training on the opposite coast only recently; Lt. Harro was already installed and in minor charge of his company.  She was HOT!  And had a rep!  Her small frame, bubbly personality, blond hair, and fantastic ass made her quite the talk of all the guys.
	She had a boyfriend—so it was rumored, off-base.  Nodden began to hear soon enough more rumors about the short statured tart but he didn’t particularly care for rumors.  He was young, sexually pent up, and on the look out for any opportunity to “get some.”
	There weren’t a lot of gals in the dual company building, and those that were would make Stevie Wonder flinch.  Alton wasn’t interested in any of those gals, though—Lt. “Loose” Lusy Harro was his intended.  Of course, with him being a lowly enlisted person and she a lofty second lieutenant—attaining the goal of “friendly” was not even an option.
	She wore adornments, patches and such indicating her status as a paratrooper.  It was rumored that it took as many as three tries for her to make that goal.  Nodden whacked off to her image many a-night—many nights.

	During camping exercises (the Army called that bivouac), Alton didn’t care, he was “just along for the ride.”  Do the hitch in accordance to his contract with the governmental entity and go on to college, get a house, and go from there.  Anyways, during the “bivouac” exercises in the desert, Alton caught glimpses of Subject Harro “peeing.”  There were latrines and porta potties scattered about encampment—but further out in the area there was just the “desert.”
	Alton was in communications; meaning he was the fella running com wire all over the place—all OVER the hot burning place.  While in the process of running some wire from Point A to Point some other Goddamn point, Alton caught the movement of “someone.”  Ducking behind desert debris he stealthfully snaked to a rocky ridge and using then his binoculars he zeroed in on his Target.  She was peeing!
	Oh!
	His cock instantly became hard as he saw bare ass cheeks and a steady stream of pee squirting from between her squatting legs.  There were obstructions blocking his optimum view but he got a nice view just the same to remain steadfastly in his mind for some time to cum…
	Obsession led the first class private to become reclusive—difficult to do in the military—but it WAS an “army of one.”  Anyways, he kept to himself—did his job, and continued his spying efforts.  It was easy to do—for some reason, Lucy liked him.  
	They had a kismet relationship—good natured; she looked out for him and he found himself “helping” her on more than one occasion; going out of his way to help her in some menial task of one sort or another.  When out in the “field” on that bivouac thing and he was way-way out running communications wire to some godforsaken communication set up by himself, who should show up but she herself in a jeep.  She came with food from the encampment mess hall and they often had lunch together.
	They talked of their comrades, the “army” way of life, and life outside of the army.  Lucy had aspirations of making captain before leaving the military to go into the private sector.  She was college edu-ma-cated, her Dad had been a Major in the Army, her Mom was a senior airman in the Airforce; oldest brother was in the Marines.
	Alton had a boner for the woman.  He was sure that he had heard her fart one time.  He wanted to see her taking a crap.  He wanted to see her fingering herself!  He wanted to see her sucking his cock!

	One day he was running an errand in town (for the LT).  Afterwards he decided to help himself to a super ice cream soda at the local malt shoppe and “check the sights.”  The “sights” were young teen girls.  Clad in his desert gear summer wear was hoped to be somewhat “sexy” or alluring or something to make him stand out to the girls.  But they basically ignored him.
	With his treat finished he ambled to the door, still checking some of the girls and trying to be inconspicuous about it when a car screeched its tires rounding a corner.  The driver gunned the engine and sirens were right behind.  Another car darted out of the alleyway narrowly missing (missing?) the gunning car.  A car at the curb lurched out suddenly also narrowly missing being struck by the gunning car.
	Alton stepped out seeing what what and noted that the gunning car was “surrounded” by the aforementioned cars with a local cop car right on their tail, too.  The gunning car jammed on the brakes, hit reverse, and utilized the handy-dandy sidewalk was a new “lane” to traverse travel.
	Then it hauled ass.
	The car that had “lurched” from the curb lost control and smacked into a parked car.  The car from the alley made Aunt Sally’s Dress Shoppe a “drive-thru.”  The cop car was heard but not seen—deeply embedded into Sam’s Emporium and 2nd Hand Store.
	Alton had no idea what the fuck was going on, nor did he really care.  He made his way to the company jeep when something caught his eye.  His memory jogged at that time, too; noting that when he was at the door to the malt shoppe, reflected in the plate glass was the gunning car bolting out of the alley.  The passenger in the bolting car tossed something.  A paper bag, a nondescript paper bag.  
	And there it was at the dirty cluttered curb of the alley just narrowly missing the sewer opening of the sidewalk.  As nonchalantly as possible Alton plucked the bag up.  He had no idea what to expect and didn’t look until he was midway along his route back to base.  Then he pulled over in the heat of the sun parking by a lone desert tree.  Then he peeked into the bag.
	He wasn’t prepared for what he saw within.
	Money.
	Lots of money.  
	And a gun.
	A wrapped package of a snowy substance.
	And a small box.

	Twenty-five thousand dollars was in cold hard cash.  Bank wrappers about the bundled bundles.   The gun was a 9mm Glock, fully loaded.  The “wrapped” package was obviously cocaine.  Alton wanted nothing to do with that.
	The small box contained an object.
	An object.

	The “object” was similar (very) to that of a video game controller, handheld.  There were buttons, seven of them strategically placed (so it was guessed) all over the unit in a comfortable manner.  One thumb joystick; one multi-directional thumb button and then two mini view screens.
	Alton had no idea.
	The money was something.  $25,000!  Wow!  The drugs he didn’t need and buried that bundle out in the desert placing a large rock over it, too.  The gun he had no use for and that he buried on the opposite side of the road in the desert, too.
	The money and the “gadget” were something he would keep.  
	The money, of course, was obviously ill-gotten gains.  He feared depositing it in his bank—they would know.  Fear prompted him to do the unthinkable—after burying the bank wrappers in the desert he motored back to town noting the influx of cops, extra cops, highway type cops, and governmental type cops everywhere.  Alton avoided them and pulled up to one of the churches.  He didn’t like churches in particular, ‘specially the ones where big expensive cars were parked out front with the preacher’s car the most expensive.  Sure it was ok for God to bless his children, but Alton felt that those folk in the pulpit shouldn’t be wearing five hundred dollar suits and driving fifty thousand dollar cars in the day where people in the church or living near the church	 were less than fortunate.  It just wasn’t right.
	So, one of the lesser churches Alton chose and made a “deposit” into the slot at the door.  He had roughed up the money, dirtied it some and crinkled it, mixed the bills and let go ten thousand dollars in several different envelopes.
	To the homeless shelter he went nextly, then the children’s orphanage.  They each got five thousand.  The remainder—Alton kept.  He wasn’t an idiot.

	Once back at his barracks and in his own private room—he stripped naked and did what he saw filthy stinking rich people do on television shows—he rolled his naked body in the fresh bank money.  He even humped it!  He did!  Laying on the spilled spread out money he humped it—thoroughly soiling it and making merry.  
	His own room—the barracks were not like the old WWII barracks but upgraded to Four-to-a-Room.  However, Alton was so far by himself.  Each person had a small divided area having a bunk, a locker, and a desk.  A half wall, too.  And though he was the only person he had to maintain cleanliness in the other three areas, too.  He chose a bunk area that was by the window.  He had a fan to cool him and the barracks’ rooms were a/c cooled as a whole.
	The gadget.  What the fuck was it?
	It looked like a hi-tech game controller.
	But it wasn’t.
	The “on” button was located underneath the curvature of the thing.  Two indicators sprang to life with a soft yellow glow.  Small lines ran across the small view screen.  A soft blue light was at the top with a red light on the bottom.  There was no instructions and Alton was clueless.
	In the Dayroom, a common room where Joes and Josephine’s hung out to play pool, video arcade, have a snack and watch television, Alton learned what he had stowed away behind his wall locker.  On the news was the take down of Lewey the Moose, Eddie the Moocher, and Mason the Manhattan Mauler.  They were a part of a small organization involved in shakedowns, rum running, prostitution and a host of other immoral and illegal offenses from the nearby big city.
	Alton had missed most of the news—he had been busy humping the mob’s money; but he got the gist that the small time wanna be big time mobsters were running up against some other thugs and low lifes and were in competition for the take over of the desert town.
	The subject of “money”, drugs, and an EMAD came up in conversation.  An EMAD.  Holy fucking hot sheep shit!  An EMAD!  An EMAD!  An Electronic Mind Altering Device!  That was what the fuck it was, that gadget thing!
	Alton got the sweats and turned pale.  Mobster money, the gun, the bundle of drugs, and the “gadget.”  Holy fucking hot sheep shit!  He didn’t know much about EMADs or their clones; he knew that they were dangerous and illegal to possess.  But he also knew that they were awesome.  Simply fucking holt hot sheep shit awesome!

	Without instructions, though, operation of the mobster EMAD was going to be a toughie.  So far, he had learned to “turn it on.”  After that, it would be down to “trail & error”.  From what he had learned from the daily news blab he understood the concept of mind altering devices.  But there were many-many EMADs and clones out on the world; Alton was a little naïve and somewhat clueless to the pertinent goings on regarding such things.  He was more hung up on trying to get laid on a fairly regular basis…
	Getting laid.  Jenny Harper in Junior High—no, wait, Erica Matteson in Elementary School; Third grade, ON the school campus, yet!  And it was Erica who initiated the naughtiness—she did!  She was a naughty-naughty girl who liked to pull her panties to one side (while in a dress) and pee on the grass.  It was a little more difficult for Alton to do pee without being possibly seen—so he laid on his side and did what Erica wanted to see him do.  After peeing they went behind some bushes and Erica helped Alton “get some.”
	His first fuck.
	When in the 4rth Grade, it was his three teenage cousins who got “freaky” with him and taught him more joyous wonders that was sex (and deviancy.)  Not much in the 5th grade; in the 6th grade, though, he met another naughty girl and they engaged in sexual activities usually on school campus, too.
	Jenny Harper came along to satiate his aching cock in junior high.
	A small bevy of other girls fulfilled his needs thru high school, tapering off at the end, though.  Then came the choice of work in the oilfields, go into trucking, go on a fishing boat in the freezing topsy-turvy frigid waters, or join up in the US Military.
	He hated the smell of oil and wasn’t keen on the hard labor of the oilfields.  Trucking wasn’t all that glamorous—he liked the trucks and dashboard but the actual “work” of being a trucker was a little displeasing.  
	He nixed going out on the crab/fishing boats—he got seasick.
	The recruiter for the US Marines was at lunch, he was at lunch with the Air Force recruiter.  The US Coast Guard guy was in the can with the Navy recruiter.  Draw your own conclusions here…
	The Army recruiter brought his lunch from home.
	So it was the US Army for Alton Nodden.
	A few weeks of Basic, more weeks of the specialized training and then his posting to the desert base.  Could have been worse, could have been placed in the freezing arctic or some other godforsaken place no one ever heard of.  

	There was no “getting some” in Basic Training or in Special Training.  The Josephines on the remote base (Werthafukahwee) as previously stated would make the blind man on the corner flinch.  Most the gals had started at the top of the Ugly Tree—then fell to the ground hitting every branch on the way down.
	But still, there were some who were not all that bad.  Some.
	And then there was Lt. Lucy “Loose” Harro.
	There, too, was Staff Sergeant Louisa Vaimen.  She was over six foot tall, very slenderly built, African American and Alton was afraid if he stuck his dick in her—her pussy would break it in two!
	And he guessed that there were a couple of gals who weren’t too terribly displeasing—‘specially if they were naked!
	But it was Loose Lucy he was after and it was Loose Lucy he would have!  But first!  He had to figure out how to work the fucking gadget that would make that happen!

	Thanks be to television and documentaries!
	It took awhile, but Alton watched a few programs that discussed electronic mind altering devices and though there were thousands of different mind altering devices out in the world, they all had the basic principal.  Then, be that as it may, there were idiosyncrasies with each EMAD device.
	So it DID boil down to Trail and Error.  Fuck!

	Yolanda Zorra, Specialist 4
	She was Mexican.  She was 5’9” at 120 lbs.  When not in uniform she had a fairly decent body—it was the face that need concealment.  But she was breaking a Cardinal Rule—trekking alone.  Whether on Base or in the nearby Town—female personnel were not to be alone.  It wasn’t a mandate by the Base Commander, but it was just one of those unwritten laws made for the protection of the female branch.
	Of course, when you have a face that would melt plastic…
	Besides, it was for the sake of science.
	Yolanda made her way from the barracks, she was with Company “A” but he still knew her.  She picked the panties out of her ass and gave wonder to her stealthy follower if she were a virgin.  Who would want to fuck her?  From the barracks she walked along the sidewalk of The Hard Way to Forward St. crossing the great parking lot and cutting then thru the undeveloped land to the PX just beyond.
	The “undeveloped” land was with some desert trees, cacti, rocks, more rocks, more cacti, more rocks, more trees of the desert variety, and more rocks.  It wasn’t a particularly big piece of land, five hundred yards square was about the size of it.
	Alton nailed her half way thru.
	He wasn’t sure what the hell he was doing though.  He activated some of the buttons in no particular order; but he did note the top screen on the Device and its wavy lines.  There was a small diode emitter that was at first red when the unit was turned on.  Then, after pushing this button and working the 8-way multi-directional thumb button, the light turned yellow.
	Then, when in close proximity of Specialist 4 (equal to rank of a PFC), the second tiny view screen’s light emitter blinked yellow.  Working the thumb button he noted the top screen’s wavy lines increased.  The bottom screen had some lines, too; but they weren’t wavy and were barely noticeable.
	Until he got closer to his target.
	The yellow light on the second screen flashed yellow and then turned green.  But only for a half second then it was back to a solid yellow.  During the brief “green” time the bottom wavy lines seemed to match the top wavy lines.
	What it meant Alton had little idea but he guessed that the wavy lines in both screens had to match before – before he could do something naughty.  Yolanda continued her trek and Alton continued his efforts.  The Specialist of Company A made her way out to the parking lot of the PX; Alton held fast assuming that the 20-something gal would make her way back shortly.
	Meanwhile, he sweated it out and concentrated on what he had learned.  Then he had to pee.  And he was hungry.  For some reason—he didn’t whip it out and piss on the desert sand; instead he made for the PX and the associated mini stores next to it—like the pizzeria.  There, too, was the barber shop, clothing outlet, and what have you.  The base was not closed and allowed the personnel there to bring their families to the godforsaken place.  There was a bowling alley, too, the only true form of “entertainment” other than the theatre.
	Anyways, the pizzeria.  Alton made for the pisser right quick but got distracted by a few young ladies—very young ladies.  He marveled at their innocence and tight butts.  He didn’t think of himself as a pervert, but he wouldn’t mind to see some of those girls with their clothes off, legs open, and his cum shooting onto their bald pussies and faces.
	Oh!
	Well, at least he wasn’t a pervert…
	Anyways…
	He moved up to the counter and ordered a piece of pizza and a beer.  It was solely to be up close to the small gaggle of girls.  He knew, of course, that they weren’t alone.  Their parents were right close at tables and Alton knew to watch himself—lest he be watched!
	With his pizza and beer he made for a lone table and forgot all about Specialist Yolanda—until she passed by the great bay window.  Alton fussed, kept a fart to himself and fumed.  Two MPs walked into the establishment—they didn’t look friendly.  But then again, he never knew an MP to be of the friendly sort.
	They were making an EMAD sweep using the latest technology to “detect” a working EMAD.  Alton knew it as it was a common thing for MPs to do anywhere at anytime.  He began to sweat and it wasn’t from the generous helping of jalapenos.
	The MPs separated making Alton all the more nervous.  His EMAD was tucked inside his shirt and waistband of his pants.  Sergeant C Holmes walked thru the establishment to the bathrooms and telephones, PFC Conner remained at the door—so no one would make an escape.
	Alton waited—he couldn’t formulate a plan but thought maybe a lie or just to ditch the damn thing.  Ditch it.  That was it.  Being caught with an EMAD was worse than with other contraband—far worse.  The MP who had gone to the bathrooms returned making a slow sweep of the place.  Alton almost had the EMAD out of his shirt.  His plan was to tuck it into the seat and be done with it.
	Of course, his prints would be on it.
	Of course!
	Suddenly a little plopped into his seat munching on a piece of gooey cheese pizza.  She started flapping her lips and then looked to realize she had plopped down in the wrong seat.  She giggled and fled; the MPs went out the door and all was well.
	Alton wanted to be “out the door”, too.

	Not even finishing his beer Alton scooted outside.  It was hot out and the inside of the pizzeria was cooler—much cooler.  His plans were obliterated.  He couldn’t think straight.  He sighed, continued to squash the fart bubble, and shuffled his way back to his barracks.
	Of course—along his way…

	One of the little girls from the pizzeria caught his eye.  She was running amok being chased by some of the little boys from the pizzeria.  Alton watched her—on the sly of course, and when she darted into the alleyway between the buildings—his curiosity was highly piqued.  Highly.
	The little girl, about ten-ish, slipped down behind a dumpster.
	Alton slipped in and not knowing what he was doing activated the EMAD.  He noted the lights and wavy lines of the screens.  Then, when the little girl popped out to rejoin her friends—she was firstly startled.  Then, she went silent and still.
	On the EMAD, the indicator lights were green with what looked like to Alton matching wavy lines.  “Wow.” He breathed.  “Now what?”  Fear befelled him, consumed him.  He didn’t really know what to do—but he knew doing it in the open was a bad thing—a very bad thing.
	But curiosity won out and he gently found that he could push the little girl back behind the dumpster.  He was awed that she didn’t scream, move, bat her eyes, or do anything.  Wavering his hands before her face resulted in nothing.  She didn’t blink or rear her head back.
	Curiouser and curiouser.
	Alton knelt down—keeping a tuneful ear to anyone calling out a name.  then, dangerously, he put his hand out to rest on the girl’s hip.  She didn’t react whatsoever.  Then he pressed his luck by brushing the girl’s butt.  Still nothing.  Wrinkling his nose, sweating, then suddenly realizing that he hadn’t peed yet, he gave the tyke a butt squeeze.
	That was the test.
	He didn’t know the girl, she didn’t know him—and by rights she should be freaking out.  But she didn’t.  Alton initiated another “test”; brushing his fingers up against her chest followed by “up between her legs.”
	Nothing.  
	Alton smiled—he could get to like this.
	He did take note of the blinking LED lights on her shirt indicating that an EMAD was in use; on her little kiddie watch a light was blinking, too.  Alton rubbed his hands up and down her arms; he could just hear the gaggle cacophony of wee children out in front of the pizzeria.  The alley was too open for doing narly shenanigans but he tested fate by quickly undoing the little girl’s pants and pulling them down.
	Just past her butt.
	It was quick and he held his breath all the while.

	Basic white kiddie panties greeted him.  They were small and presented a nice little virgin bulge betwixt her legs.  Alton couldn’t breath if he wanted to.  There was absolutely nothing to indicate the little girl was aware.  Checking left and right of his shoulders he just as quickly pulled the girl’s panties down—just enough to expose her cunny.
	Alton’s cock ached.  Greatly—greatly did he want to do something.  All he did, though, was finger the little girl’s cunny.  Pressing her up against the stucco wall of the pizzeria he got a finger full of ten year old pussy, caressed her ass (and diddled her hole).
	More would have been done—much more, but the noises and a call of “Jennifer!” preempted any narly business.  Alton redressed “Jennifer” and pushed out into the alley and tucked himself behind the dumpster.  He wasn’t sure if he was doing it right but he depressed the button that initially turned the EMAD on.
	Jennifer stumbled, retched, then looked wildly around.  She looked to almost scream but a woman came to be chastising the child for hiding in a dirty alley.  Jennifer was jerked back into the fold of her family and friends with a swat to her butt.  Alton sighed and hauled out his cock to give it a so-so pleasing squeeze.
	At least he wasn’t a pervert.

	A shower would feel good, it was after four PM, maybe the mail had run and there’d be something from the family.  Once more he trekked across the desolate open area between the main base and the civilian section.  Making around one of the large desert boulders there before him was none other than Specialist Yolanda Zorra.
	Hmmm
	She had a package with her and was taking her time.
	Alton broke out the EMAD and…

	Purple panties.  Full brief type.  
	Alton stood her up against the boulder facing the desert.  The boulder was shaped so as it shielded them from view from either direction—the aforementioned base and civy area.  No one could see them.  Which was good; cause Alton was “in the mood.”
	With Yolanda’s pants and panties down, top up, and bra undone, Alton dropped his own pants and proceeded to give his bone a whack.  The day was cooling and that was a good thing.  He scratched his nads and accessed the woman’s cunny.
	She had been fucked before—that completed the assessment.

	With her top up over her breasts and concealing her dogfaced face, Alton schlepped his salami into her poon and got with the program of humping.  No, he didn’t consider any problems in regards to her having some lame cunt disease—he figured she hadn’t gotten dick all that often and probably was humping candles or something other than dick.
	It was a fairly decent tight fit and that pleased Alton’s aching cock.
	But he wanted a pretty girl, that little ten year old from the alley, her little friends, the cutesy twenty-something clerk at the counter, and especially Lt. Lucy Harro.  Especially Lucy Harro.

	In the days that followed—not much happened.  Alton just got more and more familiar with his new found object but hadn’t gained much in the way of knowing what the fuck it did or how it did it.  Then, one day, he was up in the 2nd floor of the company’s communication building.  It was LONG and WIDE and HOT.  The 1rst floor was offices, mostly open with some cubicle.  An assembly area was out front with an adjacent building of similar type but belonging to another company was across the small street between them.
	A mess hall of sorts was on the other side, not an official military mess hall but one run by civilians.  The 2nd floor of the Com Building was a mess—the company’s “crap” was stowed there; all equipment needed for going out to the “field” or abroad.  One office, one bathroom.  It was a haven, actually, though—to hide out.
	In among the cots and folded tents Alton hunkered down still deciphering the magic of the EMAD.  He figured he had got it down as much as he was going to.  There was nothing to do but wait.  And wait.  And then wait some more.
	It was 4 O’clock.  If the Captain wanted a final End of Business Formation out in front of the Company—he usually would have called it in by now.  Most of the Unit members were either already at the Company, the motorpool, or some other damn place in hiding.  Hardly anyone was at the Com Building.
	Hardly anyone.
	As far as Alton knew, himself and Loose Lucy.
	Slowly he crept down the stairs.  The stairs were old wooden things, as was the entire building and entire base.  He hung at the bottom steps and listened—he could hear Lt. Harro on the phone but it didn’t sound like she was conversing with the Captain.  It was 4:15 anyways.  

 	There was a turn to the water cooler and then straight down the aisle to the two offices at the front of the building.  Lt. Harro occupied space in one while Staff Sergeant Ryers had the other.  Ryers’ office was locked.  Harro’s office door was open and she was sitting on the edge of her desk fiddling with her hair.  Her back was to the door!
	Perfect.
	Alton didn’t like the front door open, though; he didn’t expect anyone to come into the building but you never know.  The EMAD came into play; he waited for timing.
	By the gist of the conversation—Loose Lucy was yapping to a girlfriend.  This could take a while.  He waited.  The day was changing to evening—still hot—still light out.  There was a beach nearby, and a rinky-dink trailer park.  Alton had already been to beach and scoured it out—just because he was bored and hated the desert.
	Finally Harro concluded her call.  Just as she put the receiver back to the cradle—Alton zapped her.  The indicator lights blinked yellow and then a steady green—indicating that the device had “captured” the brain waves of the intended subject.
	He knocked on the open door, “M’am, I’m heading up to the Company, anything I can do for you?”
	Not a word.
	“M’am?”
	Silence.
	Alton stepped inside the office, licked his lips and knocked again—just to be sure.  Lt. Lucy Harro did nothing but remain silent sitting on the corner of her desk.  Alton sighed relief, farted, then closed the door…

	Her pants were down revealing a nice pair of bikini panties—white.  Clothes were complicated—all those buttons, a belt; her shirt buttons, undershirt, bra.  The a/c unit in her office wasn’t too good and it was a little uncomfortable.
	But with her pants down, Alton got busy with the caressing of her legs, fingering her out between her legs, and hoping beyond hopes that her pussy would be at least a little snug.  At least a little.  No guarantee, of course.  But she did have two other holes…
	Just as he got his pants down—the phone on the desk rang.
	And rang.  And rang.  And rang some more.  He was about to put it inside one of the desk’s drawers when he noticed the green light on the EMAD flickering, the second light on the 2nd screen/bottom.
	“Oh shit.”  That wasn’t good.  The phone was interrupting the brain waves captured and that was not a good thing.
	“Son-of-a-bitch!” Alton bitched.  He couldn’t answer it—he wasn’t supposed to—and he didn’t want anyone to know he was there with the LT.  He needed an alibi and answering the telephone would screw that.
	He had to get Loose Lucy out—away from the phone!
	
	There’s no place to “get some” like “getting’ some” behind an APC (Armored Personnel Carrier.)  His first try was behind the building; but roving MPs nixed that so he moved the Luwey behind an adjacent building but “personnel” were already there drinking beer, smoking joints, dissen Army life.  505s Cavalry motorpool was over the next block and with the large machines Alton thought it a good place to get freaky.
	He was amazed with the ability to maintain mind lock on the lieutenant and “walk” her wherever he wanted.  He maintained a stealthy way of being and more than once threw and pushed Lucy into bushes or simply to the ground and stood nonchalantly while motorists and military folk came close by.
	The APC was pretty good and he was almost down to getting the bitch naked—when the damn thing fired up and came to life!  Personnel were INSIDE the Personnel Carrier!
	Out of the motorpool, over the berm, and behind the barracks of 1rst Company Headquaters, Headquarters Company.  Not good there, either as personnel were on a detail to wash not just the inside of their building but the outside, too.
	Once again Alton and Lucy were on the move.
	Problems other than detection/observation began when the lights on the EMAD flickered again and Lucy seemed to be becoming aware.  Not good.  No, not good at all.  Alton needed to do to her what he needed to do and do it soon.
	There didn’t seem to be any place on base that was safe.
	Solution—leave the base.
	Easier said than done.
	Out-out in the desert was kinda okay, if you like snakes, scorpions, other creepy crawlies and the like.  And with Lucy on the verge of being totally aware of herself and situation—desperate measures were needed.

	Like say—rope.
	From 601rst Armored Supply Agency Company’s motorpool Alton secured some rope used to secure truck cargo.  Using a handy-dandy hanky he blindfolded Lucy and with a rag (also obtained from the ASA motorpool) she was gagged.  Her hands were bound (just in case) but her feet, of course, were free so as she could move/walk.
	Security was not all that it was cracked up to be—‘specially for a military installation located in the middle of the desert (adjacent to an unpopular beach).  A rocky ridge at the far side of the base was a good place to go to leave base; it was a little tricky navigating the rocks but there was a small meager path leading the way thru the ridge to the beach beyond.
	There were, of course, a few places along the way to do what he wanted to do to the woman with a rep, but he had previously explored the ridge and the beach beyond and knew of a better more secure place to get as freaky as he wanted.
	Lucy came “aware” of her situation midway along and began to freak out causing Alton to get a little “rough.”  In doing so he got a since of that empowerment thing, overwhelming another, controlling.  He liked it.  All his life others had been “in control” of him; his parents, teachers, friends, basic training drill instructors, anyone with rank.  
	Now it was his turn.
	Not too gently he slammed the Lieutenant up against the wall.  He didn’t say anything to her—she knew her situation was not good.  Whoever was against her was strong, taller, and determined.  With her bound hands there was little she could do.  She tried kicking but being blindfolded, hands bound, confused, and in a narrow rocky passage (although she didn’t know that) her attempts at fending off her attacker was futile.
	Her “attacker” pushed and shoved, then dragged her to her doom.
	Cold, wet sand she was flung to and then pinned to.  Her attacker lay on her, humping her, caressing/squeezing her breasts, then pressing his mouth onto her face.  Lucy fought back as much as she could but the knowing of what was going to happen overwhelmed her and thusly disrupted her fight abilities.  
	Alton took his time, he had it.  He was in a secure place (so he thought) where no one knew he was there.  No roving MPs, no personnel, no one.  He took his time, slapping the woman, pinching her breasts, then basically ripping her shirt off.

	On and on it went, a small personal knife came into play so as to “rip” Lucy’s shirt and undershirt off.  Then with a simple flick the knife, too, sliced thru the front of her bra freeing her more than adequate breasts for her size.  
	The attacker halted his work to be in awe at the bodacious ta-tas.  He smiled, leered, and lusted—heavily.  “nice.” he said, “very nice.”  He mawed them, tweaked the nipples and squeezed the breast flesh to his delight.
	Lucy thrashed and wept uncontrollably.  
	Alton slid down her body and began undoing her pants—again.
	The surf crashed on the rocks just beyond the curved “fingers” of the jutting rock; the air was cool and “wet” with the sea’s moisture.  Seagulls there were a few, squawked and fluttered aimlessly about the churned air; crabs and other beach life scurried about the rocks and sand; the day was nearly done in segueing to evening type time.  All was peaceful and calm—in a nature sort of way.  In the small open cave behind the finger-like walls all was not well.  Not for Lt. Lucy Harro anyways.
	A crab sought to make a new home in her military boots; they lay off to one side along with her military casual fatigue pants.  Her “attacker” was still in the process of stripping her down.  When she fussed with the taking down of her pants, Alton grabbled with her ankles and hoisted them up—then commenced a hellacious smacking of her ass and thighs.
	The act of the discipline thrilled young Alton.  That empowerment thing was awesome!  He was getting off on it and the night was young!  He wanted her to act out, fight back, make trouble.  He had found a new lease for life.
	With her pants off Alton paused to lust again.  Basic white undies.  He stared at her pussy mound.  She had a camel toe.  That was nice.  Her hips were nice, ass was great, and camel toe—very nice.  
	“A beautiful girl; with pants on oh so tight; that when you stand just right; everyone can see it all.  When you’re on the beach; and your bikini’s soaking wet; we can see a fuzzy silhouette and as we look down below; we see your Camel Toe.  “Your biscuit; your beavage, we see your pooter cleavage; your monkey, your muffin, you aint hiding nothing; your coochie, your flapper, you’re showing off your snapper. Your Camel Toe, it looks so right so baby let it show; looks like a big taco; we love to see your camel toe.””

	Harro had been up on top of an APC one time adjusting radio antennae and several fellows were down below looking up.  Harro wore some particularly TIGHT uniform green fatigue pants that great revealed not only her panty lines but her “pooter cleavage”, too.  
	Alton had been in the right place when she was installing a piece of equipment in a radio shed out in the desert.  She was perched on a 6-foot ladder, head/torso up inside a small open square in the ceiling—Alton was holding the ladder.  More than once did she “open” her legs revealing her beaver biscuit.  Alton was ready to cum right then and there—had he the gumption he would have jumped her bones right then and there, too.
	Somehow he managed to contain himself.  Thankfully when back at base and in the communal showers—he happily jerked off to her image.  Thankfully he chose particular times to shower when no one else did and thusly he could happily jerk his gherkin without anyone knowing.  (he humped the wall and floor, too.)

	After some time of taking in the young woman’s coochie, Alton went down on it, eating her out thru her panties.  Harro thrashed about, smacking his head with her thighs.  He let it be and tantalized the lieutenant until she had no choice but to give in and hump his face.
	Greatly enthused was Alton becoming; darkness was descending upon them and he fretted slightly about the lieutenant not being where she normally would be—which was her apartment off-base.  She shared a room with someone else, and there was a boyfriend, too.  Both would begin to worry when she didn’t show up like she normally would and polite inquiries would begin.
	Alton figured he had time before MPs got into the game.
	And he couldn’t take it anymore and slowly-slowly-s-l-o-w-l-y pulled Lucy’s panties down.  Her beaver biscuit was more pronounced ‘cause she had a shaven beaver.  Alton had been with a couple of girl’s who shaved their snatch boxes—and he liked it—a lot!
	With the panties off he went down on her again, driving his tongue like a dick into her crevice.  Harro thrashed and tried in vain not to get into the ordeal that was upon her—in her.  But the Attacker’s wicked tongue DID tantalize her and she relented.
	Alton munched cunt, nipped the lips and flicked his wicked tongue all about, nosing her clit and succumbing to outlandish lust.  Soon he was hurriedly casting off of his clothes which was a clumsy manner with the boots and all.  His cock he was proud off—it was a little more than normal fellas and that he regarded as a plus.  

 	Too bad not many other bitches knew about it.  Of course, on the base all the bitches would scare his 8-incher into hiding so he kept it to himself.  Only letting it out on occasion when necessary.
	He pressed his marvelous manhood against her snapper and humped the gash—hard.  Harro thrashed, moaned, and wavered between fully accepting her rape and not accepting her rape.  Alton smiled and raised his hips; guided his 2x4 into her crevice and drove with one dramatic thrust all the way in.
	Harro’s eyes bulged, she screamed not so much in pain but sudden unknown pleasure as each inch slamming into overwhelmed her pussy’s sexual bite.  Slow quick pumps and thrusts before pulling all the way and humping her gash—then driving madly back into her not tight but not sloppy Josephine and getting with the business of fucking.

	Oh what a fuck!
	It was sensational!
	He couldn’t remember the last time he had had such a good fuck.  It was too fantastic to just “fuck” and run.  Once was not enough.  Besides, he had her, she was secure, they were secure, and she was “aware.”  He forgot all about the EMAD and trying to put her back to “unawares” state of being.  No longer was that the need or requirement—he liked her to be aware of herself and what was happening—it turned him on!
	After many minutes of serious pussy thrashing, Alton came.  A huge burst of excited cum exploded from his cock.  His balls slapped hard against her taint and then cinched up tight as his cock strained to the limit inside Lucy’s poon.  It was the most incredible feeling ever.  It was a feeling Alton didn’t want to lose.  He continued slamming her pussy as hard as he could, straining and then pumping furiously; one hand cupping her ass while the other held her mouth.  
	When the explosions of liquid love were fully expended Alton’s energy level dropped.  He lay heaving on the woman, sighing and feeling as if though he were peeing inside her.  Harro heaved but not so much from the most fantastic fuck she had ever had but from the horrid event of being raped and the “weight” of the bastard rapist on top of her.
	With Lucy grunting underneath him, Alton got the message and pulled out his cock from her well fucked cunt.  More sensations teased his cock and as he lay on his back on the sand—he knew he wanted to do more to her.  Much more.

	Spanking was one of the things he wanted.  He made Loose Lucy “assume” the position; that being on her hands and knees—but her hands were bound behind her so her face was pushed down on the sand, ass up.  Alton sat back to admire in the fading light of day Lucy’s super fine ass.
	And there was her bearded clam—dripping cum.  Her asshole, her cunt, her nice-nice body that apparently many others had sought to fuck was right there before him.  He marveled and admired.
	Then, with her own belt, he spanked her.
	The lashes were traumatic—for Lucy.  Alton found his cock tingling as he whipped the woman.  When her ass turned bright red and he could feel the heat emitting from the flesh—he dropped the belt and applied in similar fashion his cock.
	There was some discomfort in smacking his cock to Lucy’s ass, but he liked it.  He kept it up and would have just kept going but his cock wanted IN the woman and not on.  So, applying a little of his cum from her hairless cunt to her asshole—her mercilessly sodomized her for several minutes.
	It was a struggle to “get off” again—he came right to the brink of orgasm but was denied the glory.  It seemed as though the hole he fucked needed to be longer or tight or both.  Harro was out of her mind with the torture to her ass—then even more so as her anus was reamed.
	Alton pulled out and was angry that he didn’t get to cum.  He blamed Lucy and her “looseness” and picked up the belt again.  Lucy thrashed and managed to fall away to her side.  Alton struck her thighs and sides, then wrestled with her to get her back up to where he could lash her ass.
	Then he was standing her up pushing her against the craggy rock wall semi encircling them.  A new idea of punishment came upon him; Lucy had no energy in her to fight so Alton had it easy to undo her bound wrists—only to rebind them but this time above her head with the same rope going about some jutting rock.  Then, with her short legs about his waist he slammed his cock into her cunt and fucked her brains out.
	
	It felt good to fuck—no doubt there, but unable to cum pissed him off.  He still felt like he was “right there” but he just couldn’t cum.  Pulling out he humped Lucy’s loose cunt, slapped it and then jammed himself back into her asshole.  There was a snug fit there but still—not tight enough to achieve the desired effect of ultimate pleasure.
	“Shit!” he bitched aloud and pushing Lucy down some, removing her gag, Alton repositioned himself and shoved into her mouth his soiled fuck stick.  Lucy really went berserk with this action but her head was being slammed against the rock wall behind her, too…

*

Monkey love
	There was regret for what had happened.  He knew that come the new marrow MPs would be thick as fleas on a dog’s ass.  It would probably be best not to be caught with an EMAD.  Probably.  It had usefulness and he knew he had carried it too far.  But he wasn’t satisfied—‘one more’ he thought.  Or until the lust in his loins was satisfied.
	First, though, was getting back into his barracks, unseen.
	That was a matter of being a monkey.  The CQs were manned with a sergeant and a private, at both ends.  It was late at night and the common walkways inside plus the offices would be attended to by those personnel as at the late hour no one was traipsing in and or out of the building unless they were on guard duty someone else on post.  Everyone was in their beds tucked in sound to sleep.
	Peeking in thru the double glass entrance doors he saw Sergeant Remeriz at the CQ desk.  The desk was a large chest high semi-oval thing with phones, books, cubby holes for personal letters to the staff; a radio and small portable television; and security monitor that was solely trained on the weapons locker room.
	Sergeant Og manned the other desk at the other end of the building.  Private Hollings mopped the floor there while PFC Bateman picked up the clutter from the officers’ offices at the other end.  At the end were Sergeant Og was was the building operations offices and mail room.  In the center was the laundry room.  At the end where Sergeant Remeriz was, the ranking officers’ offices, bathrooms, and dayroom/common room.  Two sets of doors from the front and two sets from the rear.  The rear area was not much to speak of, desert-scape mostly with paths leading out to the desert and adjacent parking lot overflows as well as out to the various motorpools and other places of work.
	Alton couldn’t chance just “walking in” thru the doors.  The rear doors made noise, they squeaked.  He couldn’t tell if anyone was in the dayroom.  After taking a healthy piss on the flowers at the wall he noted the ledge above him.
	On all floors there was a ledge about two feet protruding from the otherwise flat face of the stucco building.  Nodding his head he had a plan.  Of course, the ledge was a little out of reach.  Making his way around to the rear of the building he found a handy-dandy ladder.  It was used for earlier in the day when a detail party was cleaning the windows at the rear of the building.  The ladder was left behind—just for him!

	But that was at the rear of the building.
	Once on the narrow ledge it was precarious shuffle making way along the side to the front.  Then, once to the front to avoid the chance that anyone would see him creeping along passed their window, he had to go on all fours and scurry-scurry along like a rat.
	Then he had to figure out exactly where his room was.
	Luckily he had a view of a tree out front of the barracks and a temp gauge placard in his window.  Having a room to himself made him lucky, and a partially open window, too.  It would have sucked if he had locked his window before leaving—but who would be expected to come traipsing along the narrow ledge outside?
	Inside his room he collapsed onto his bed and shut his eyes.
	Seconds later and the alarm clock on his nite stand sounded off.
	It was 5AM.
	Cussing he lay still for a moment—thinking.
	‘What fucking day is this’  It wouldn’t come to him.
	What was done yesterday?
	Motorpool duty?  No.
	Barrack duty?  No.
	Com Building.   Yes.
	No formation at the End of Day so that meant—Friday.
	Usual EoD Formations were Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays.  Usually by 4PM on Fridays and military personnel had their weekends set and planned and were gone.  Unless they had the Duty.
	The Duty.  
	Shit.
	Alton hadn’t checked the Duty Rooster at his company’s CQ Desk.
	Shit.
	He felt awful—for other reasons other than being dirty.
	A horrible taste was in his mouth—a party was going on and everyone was throwing up.  There, too, was a headache, his feet hurt, and his cock—well, his cock was in a category all its own.
	A shower would feel good.
	And it seemed to be a long trek to the common latrine, too.  Luckily not many others were up and about and those who were just minded their own business.  He forgo using the stall and went directly into the separate shower area.  Once the water cold cascaded upon his body he peed.  Minutes later, seeing that he was alone—he proceeded to jerk off.

	Minutes later, dressed in civy clothes he checked the Roster and didn’t see his name.  That was a good thing, “Going to town.” he told Sergeant Og.
	“Bring me back something.” the black sergeant said.
	“Tall, thick lips, about twenty?”
	“You got it!”
	Alton smiled and headed out the door.  The mobster EMAD tucked in his waist band…