August Moone
Book 8
Chapter Thirty Six
Cold Vengeance

A little ut-oh before dying
(the next day)
	“What are you doing, you sick motherfucker!?”
	The sonofabitch known as August didn’t reply but pulled the ornery goat, Onre, (pronounced the same but with a French flur) into position.  That position was between Nancy Skace’s legs.  The woman had been left alone in the stall for some hours sprawled out on her back across a baled hay bale.  Her arms and legs were stretched out and she was unable to move.  The goat made a “goaty” sound and Nancy began to thrash about (again.)
	“Best you settle down, missy.” August warned.
	“Fuck you to hell!” screamed Nancy.
	August scoffed at her tenacity and began motivating the old wily goat into a particular mood that would be unsettling to say the least for Nancy Skace.
	The morning was nice and cool after the rain shower.  The day was new, August had a good nap and was ready for the new day.  It was planned to haul Nancy off, grab some groceries, some pizzas, and have some time with the last lot (and the previous one, too!)
	But first!
	Nancy thrashed—and thrashed—and thrashed some more.  But not matter how much she thrashed—and thrashed—and thrashed some more—Onre the ornery goat mounted and poked his goaty dick into her human cunt. It quite literally blew Nancy’s mind.  She still thrashed and couldn’t believe she was getting fucked by a goat!  August stood naked masturbating beside them egging Onre on, petting him and giving him some carrots.  The fifteen year old goat kept a steady pace of human fucking, grunting and drooling all the while.  Nancy Skace’s mind was gone.  She stared up to the rafters of the stall—not blinking, not speaking or even mumbling as she had been doing.
	Onre got his and dismounted.  August drizzled his cum onto Nancy’s face, then sat on her face slipping his balls into her mouth.  That was a dangerous-dangerous thing to do for sure but he risked it.  Then, THEN he nuzzled his asshole right to the woman’s nose, spread his cheeks—and farted.  And that was followed up by pushing a healthy morning turd out.

	From Desert Hwy the truck turned right off heading opposite of Eighty Acres East to the even less populated West end.  From the sub-power relay station with the one fucking lone tree for miles and miles and miles and miles and miles around there was absolutely nothing for fifty miles to the state line.  There the Indians al la American type had a casino and folks from neighboring small cities and adjoining states flocked there.  It wasn’t a particularly good choice for destination but the East area of Eighty Acres was getting scrutinized closely by Do-gooders, Feds, and other assorted law enforcing officials—and unofficials.
	The truck rattled, burped, and rolled on an uneven wheel down the road with Nancy Skace beside him, clad in torn clothing and babbling incoherently.  She would never be the same again and that was the point.
	Twenty or so miles along and August hit the brakes hard bringing the tired old truck to a screeching halt—
	“Son-of-a-bitch!” he yelled aloud.  Before him and a section of the road was gone—washed away.  And a car was buried in the sandy wash.  The sandy-water had the station wagon buried up to the passenger seat, the car sat sidewise and August couldn’t tell if anyone was within.  He didn’t recognize the car, out of state plates, coming from the Indian casino direction.
	There was no crossing the twenty foot opening.  It gave cause for a rethink.  Going back towards Desert City was sort of an option, but that was an extra twenty miles tacked on—he was closer to the state line and getting rid of “cargo.”  He thought—and thought—and thought.  Then backed the truck up and went back only a few miles finding the off-road dirt road heading towards Dragon Canyon.  There was a so-so road that went across the weir there at the beginning of the Canyon.  It went up along the rustic end of the Indian Territory and eventually emptied back onto paved road.
	After thinking it thru it seemed the logical choice.
	So much for logical thinking.
	Ten miles along the desert road and it got to be a little rough.
	The weir was washed away, too.
	Backing up and—the truck got stuck.
	An hour was spent getting unstuck.
	Determination set in and August floored the accelerator propelling the truck to warp speed.  It was hoped the excess speed would get the old 1960s Dodge across the washout.
	Well, almost.

	Like in the cartoons, the bad guy flying across a great chasm thinking he would clear and land on top—August thought the same.  And like that cartoon character—smacked the wall of the canyon instead the old truck flew somewhat across the twenty foot opening but didn’t have enough guff to make the transition fully and got hung up on the lip of the wash.  The truck rolled landing ten feet onto the sandy bottom driver’s side down.
	Nancy fell onto him and good thing she was whacked out of her mind or she would have taken the opportunity to vent her rage.  August couldn’t move—the air was pushed out of his lungs, his legs were pinned by crap he had stowed under the truck and he was pretty sure his left arm was broken.
	“Well this is a fine fix!” he bitched to no one.
	There was significant blood—and it was all his.
	A slight cut on his forehead but there was his entire right side drenched in sticky-icky red stuff.
	“What the fuck?” he wondered.  Pushing Nancy out of the way wasn’t easy—then he found out why; the pickaxe he had behind the seat had pierced the seat and pierced Nancy.
	“Damn!” and of course it could have been him, too.
	No more pickaxes or any other pointy objects were to be stowed behind the seat.
	Getting into trouble was easy—getting OUT of trouble?  Not so much.
	A broken arm, pinned on his side by a dead woman, in a dry wash that only recently had water enough to washout the weir—gave cause for August to motivate himself.  Easier said than done.  Getting out from under the dead weight of Nancy Skace with two good arms and unbashed body even with the truck on its side would have been a neat trick.  Doing so with a broken arm just complicated things.
	He gave little thought to his future, not when he got out and what he would do, the kids in the trailer, what to do with Nancy, nothing—all that there was was to get the fuck out of the truck!
	It took a great effort and thirty minutes of scrambling, scrunching his nuts as he crawled over the non-giving steering wheel then out the passenger side window.  He sat on the truck’s side for a few minutes smarting with the broken arm.  Numerous cuts and scrapes were also pesky.  There wasn’t a lot of time—he needed water, a doctor, and a shovel.
	Emergency water he had—just had to dig for it thru the crap he had in the back of the truck that was now scattered all about.  The First Aid kit?  Hmmm  he used to have one; he had to resort to making a bandage from his shirt before striking out for Gomer’s Place.

	Gomer’s Place was juxtaposed between the Indian Reservation and the vastness of desertscape.  A few trailers, a few trees, a general store w/one pump gas, and a small tavern.  Fewer than twenty-five people called Gomer’s Place home.  Old miners (retired) and outcast from society (scum).  Some residents were Indians, the rest were plain white trash (rednecks).  August knew the residents, he could trust them…
	Thing was, though, from the dry wash to Gomer’s Place was a helluva walk, fifteen miles.  Normally not really a bad walk—the landscape was pretty even; but with a busted arm?  Body all banged up?  Little water?  And in 100 plus degree heat?  Not the best walk.
	About eight miles into the walk, though, something appeared in sight.  The air had cooled and that was a big help; the clouds had gotten together and August began to think that he just might make the trek after all.  His arm throbbed, his body wracked with hurts and owes, he needed a beer and a shot of whiskey, then his ass kicked for trying to send his 1 ½ ton truck over a dry wash!
	As he drew a little closer at an angle he saw that there was a modern day jeep slowly moving on a dirt road heading towards Gomer’s Place.  The jeep had a rope trailing behind him pulling a woman!  The woman was naked.  The woman had trucker’s (scratchy kind) all over her!  How odd!
	Hunter Ligget was the driver of the jeep, Teri Garthrump was the bitch being towed.  The trucker’s rope went around her neck, then down straight down to her shaven snatch and up tightly thru her butt crack around her neck again to come down and do a tight figure eight about her 36Cs.  Her ankles were hobbled allowing her to just barely keep from being dragged.  Her hands were bounded tightly behind her.  A pair of men’s undies was crammed into her mouth.
	A pretty thing, Teri was, slender build, a few cunt hairs from being six feet tall; very-very tan all over; a tat of a raging bull on her right butt cheek, a horny devil on the left, a rainbow at the top of her shaven pussy.  Long, long, raven black hair; long arms and legs, big tits.  She had an Indian grandfather, an Eskimo great grandmother.  August had always wanted to fuck her, but she was Hunter’s bitch so he kept his lurid thoughts and desires to himself.
	Managing to whistle he got Hunter’s attention.
	Both August and Teri halted unable to move.
	Hunter came out wearing his typical bent awkward Aussie hat stopping at his bitch saying to her, “Don’t you fucking fall over, bitch, or I’ll drag your sorry cheatin’ ass all the way!”

	“Guldern, boy, what the fuck?” Hunter sparked as he jogged up to the disabled August.
	“A little mishap.”
	“Fuck, I guess so.” He helped August to the jeep, got him some fresh water, then fired the jeep up and put it in gear letting the automatic idle cruise along just enough to keep the lying-cheating bitch girlfriend keep up.
	“Problems?” August asked as he slowly got his breath and senses back.
	“Fuckin’ whore,” Hunter said, “caught her and Tom Manzer fuckin’.”
	August shook his head and drained the water from the offered canteen.  “Gotta teach her a lesson.” August said.
	“Damn straight!” Hunter said hitting the steering wheel.
	“Eh, what about Tom?”
	“FUCK Tom!” Hunter bitched loudly.
	“Well, that’d be the general idea.”
	Hunter looked to August and busted out in a broad smile.	
	“Goddamn, that why I like you!”
	“Where’d you leave him?”
	“Wailing on the floor of his trailer.”
	August tried to think but the pain of his arm, the cuts and other assorted hurts (and owes) overwhelmed his revenge thoughts.)
	“I need Doc Fossy.” 
	Hunter nodded and brought the jeep to a halt; got out and brought his cheating whore to the jeep shoving her inside and not doing so so nicely.  Then he hit the gas and speed off to Doc Fossy.

	Fossy was the only doctor for miles and miles and miles around, not even the adjacent Indian Reservation had a doctor.  Doc Fossy was cool, he was no longer allowed to practice medicine legally (but privately was another deal.)  He was a big fella, no hair on top of his dome but a long on his face making him a sort of impromptued Santa Claus.
	What did he do to lose his license to practice medicine you ask?
	Got a little friendly with his patients.  Too friendly.  And his patients were a little young.  He was never fully convicted but his practices were scrutinized and along with other non-professional mannerisms got him canned from the county hospital he had been working in.  The state then took it a step further yanking his license until he redeemed himself.  He told them to go fuck themselves and left the scene.

	“Doc ‘ill fix you right up!” Hunter said.
	August knew he would; the man could be trusted with secrets.  He still dabbled in a little hanky-panky with the Indian girls who came for medical help.  He grew a little pot in the backyard of his office/home, too. 
	“So whattya gonna do with her, and Tom?” August asked as they entered into warp speed across the landscape.
	Hunter shook his head, “I don’t know, not really.”
	“Could drop ‘em off into the Miquez.” It was a suggestion, and one that had been done before, too.
	“Pisses me off royally,” Hunter said, “my best friend and my best girl!”
	“Don’t know which one of them started it, or led the other on?”
	“Nope, I blame them both.”
	“Need to teach them a lesson, then.”
	Hunter said nothing but thought it over, then grabbed his crotch for some reason and nodded his head, “Yep, I’m with ya.”

	“Woo-eee, whad the other feller looky like?”
	August hobbled up onto the wooden porch of Doc Fossy “office” and before the dust settled the man had come to the door.
	“Truck fell on me.” August said simply.
	Ushered inside the good (but naughty doctor in his 50s) assessed August’s arm and set to work promptly.  Hunter hung for a bit but then left, “C’ya later, Auggie, be at the bar, ‘k?”
	“Ok.”
	
	One beer—two—beer—three beer—whiskey!
	Not a big bar, not a lot of people drinking.  It was a plain simple bar with one pool table, jukebox, smokes, and beer-beer-beer—and whiskey.  No mixed drinks, it wasn’t a cocktail lounge—bar only.  Chili was served plain, with beans, with onions, on fries, on a burger patty on a bun.  Ice cream occasionally.  
	August was fixed up, he would be sore in the morning, though.  He had some beers (and shots of whiskey) with his friend, shot a game of pool, shot the bull, then headed out to the approaching evening.
	“Well,” said August in a drawl, “got some baggage to tend to, like to get my truck on all fours.”
	“I got a wench…”

	Not a word was said the miles to the dry wash.  Then,
	“What the fuck made you think you could jump this in that old truck of yours?”
	“Temporary insanity!” August shot back.
	The evening was coming on strongly and August wanted to get back to his trailer and check on everyone—but first,
	The old Dodge grunted and twisted and made other horrible noises as she was righted.  Hunter’s jeep dug into the soft sand as it struggled to pull the truck out but it got hung up on the edge of the wash.
	August sighed.  His arm in a cast ached a little, his head hurt, the entire body as a whole was in some discomfort.
	“Ok,” said Hunter, “new plan.”
	Depositing the bitch, Teri, who was still in the jeep all that time, Hunter Ligget floored his jeep and made the jump across.  He found a narrower spot to make such a leap where there was a ledge jutting upwards.  
	“WHOOOO-WEEEE!” screamed the half drunk Hunter.  “Son-of-a-bitch I gots to do that again!”
	“Let’s get my truck out first.” August said firmly.
	Pulling the Dodge from the rear from where it had loftly ascended and then quickly descended was easier than from the other direction.  After a mechanical check the old girl fired surprisingly fired up.  There was some damage but not enough to make it undrivable.
	The lifeless body of Nancy Skace was put in the back of the truck and August stood still looking at her.  There were some regrets about what had happened to her—but he got over it and following Hunter they arrived at Tom Manzer’s trailer a few miles out from Gomer’s Place.
	The man had been beaten to a pulp.  Somehow he had managed to crawl out of the trailer.  There was no services to the remote trailer; no phone, no utilities.  There were other assorted trailers and camper trucks scattered about; a few trees, a nearby river (San Miquez) and a whole lot of open space.  Oh, and a few scorpions, too.
	One of these scorpions had stung Joe on his hand.  It was all swelled up and only added to his beating.  Without almost immediate attention—the man was going to wither in extreme dire agony before succumbing at last to death.
	“Fucker aint got much time.” Hunter said.
	“Couple hours.” August added.
	“Hope that pussy was good, motherfucker!” Hunter said angrily.
	“Whattya want to do with him, them?”

	Hunter didn’t know; he walked around in a circle cussing, scuffing the ground, cussing.
	“Well,” drawled August, “could maybe give them a going away present.”
	Hunter looked sideways at his longtime friend, he knew he was up to something.  “I’m game.”
	August smiled, “Well, I understand your girl liked horses?”
	“Yeah, had to buy a fucking horse for this bitch to ride.”
	August was beside himself, “Fucking horse, well, I got a couple of horse, they love to fuck.” He let that set in until Hunter got it.
	“Sweet Jesus!” he said beaming, “Let’s do it!” he got it.

	It was a little after midnight before August returned to his trailer.  Tom looked over the horses while August high tailed inside the trailer,
	“Get ‘em down.” he told Carly and Ted.  Carly had been curled up on Ted on the sofa, the rest of the combined group lay scattered about all over with Zach and Brandy curled up together.
	“Leave, Melody.” August amended.  Ted smiled and helped escort everyone back down into the dungeon.  Carly grabbed up clothing and high tailed it, too, just in time for Hunter to come in.
	“Guldern, that Adam Might got a dick on him, don’t he?”
	“Yeah, ought to come out Teri’s mouth!” 
	But first, a rest break—
	Until he saw the naked Melody.
	“Sumbitch, Auggie, you been holdin’ out on me?”
	“Just picked her up little while ago,” he said, “runaway.”
	Hunter looked the sleeping girl over, rubbed his crotched, and eyed the girl more.
	“Wake up!” said August shaking the sleeping teen.
	Melody awoke with a startle and for a moment—half moment was free of the mind griping prowess of the EMAD.  But only for a half moment.  Hunter stood with his pants down and dick hard.  August slid his clothes off and knew that his friend would love it if he knew about the “others.”  The man probably would give his left nut to sink his pud into the likes of Alyssa, Brandy, Angela, and the others.  But August decided against that siding that some secrets were a good thing.
	Melody took Hunter’s throbbing manhood, worked it in her delicate teenage hands and put Hunter Ligget into orbit.  She pressed her lips to his glistening knob and the redneck went soaring to Saturn.

	The outer reaches of the cosmos came as Hunter L came.  A great gusher load of spunk squirted into Melody’s mouth—then onto her sweet face drippingly dripping onto her lovely teenage titties.
	“Goddamn, Auggie,” quipped Hunter, “you sure know how to pick ‘em!”  then, after his spew was spent—
	“I got another one you might like.”
	“Yeah?”
	“Yeah, she’s a little younger,”
	and before August could say more,
	“Bring her!” with his eyes gleaming, and cock still squirting.
	Though August had known the man, Hunter, for some years, there were still some things about the man he didn’t know.  But he was learning!
	While Hunter “went down” on the young teen, August quietly slipped down into the celler ‘neath the trailer and brought up Angela.
	Hunter had his cock in Melody’s cunt and was going after it having the girl pinned on the sofa, her ass barely on the edge of the cushion, her legs up in the air against his shoulders when he saw the naked Angela.
	“Whoa!  Shit!  Sonofabitch!” he blurted.
	“Too much?” August asked not knowing really if Hunter’s outburst was a good thing or not.  “Too young” He reiterated.
	Hunter smiled shaking his head, “Nah, fuck, man, I didn’t know!” that about you.
	The man who’s girlfriend and best friend he had found fucking continued putting it to Melody, when he finished he stood up with knees on the sofa placing his limping out cock pressed against the teenager’s face.  Angela was guided in for Hunter’s perusal and he did peruse.
	“Son-of-a-fucking-bitch! Hunter said as he got a closer look, “Shit, she aint no more than eleven!”
	“Is that a problem?” August asked with his heart beating a little stronger.
	“FUCK NO!” then,
	“Have you done her yet?”
	“Not yet, but you can break her in.”
	Hunter smiled and crawled over the sofa stepping right up to the hapless mindlessly controlled eleven year old Angela Barrow.  Down onto his knees he stared at the girl’s face, then her near flat chest, then her virtually hairless cunt.

	“Goddamn, man, I didn’t know you liked ‘em young!”
	“A man’s got to have a hobby!”
	Hunter’s hands went over the girl’s body; she remained still, quiet, zombie-like.
	“What the fuck’s wrong with her?” Hunter asked noting the zombie-like demeanor.
	“Traumatized.”  August supplied, “Had to discipline her a little bit and since then she’s been a little quiet.”
	Hunter accepted that info then stood up and planted his cock against her face, humped her face, then fucked it before guiding his cum soaked cock into her mouth.  August slipped back into the kitchen and got out some drinks—hiding the fact of operating his wrist-worn EMAD that looked like a diver’s watch.  As Hunter went on having his way with Angela, the girl came around more being a little upset but not so much as to be a problem.  It was right up Hunter’s alley and when she fussed, cried, and didn’t want to spread her legs—Hunter wrestled the girl across his lap and began spanking her ass.

*

	The clouds that had been looming for the past couple of days were slowly dispersing.  The normal desert temperatures normally associated with a desert climate were resuming.  All was well with the desert.  Not so much with those who happened to live there.
	In the morning’s light the damage to the old Dodge was worse than first estimated.  The driver’s side door wouldn’t open, the side mirror was destroyed, even the gas cap was dented in so that it couldn’t be removed—not without a blowtorch and that wasn’t a good idea.
	Tom Manzer sat on his knees inside the stall area eyes wide trying to speak but unable to due to the shock before his eyes—a big horse was cumming off onto his best friend’s girlfriend’s pussy.  But that wasn’t the shocking part—a young naked girl no more than twelve had jacked the horse off!
	Tom struggled with comprehension.  Already he had witnessed Teri having her pussy dry shaved by August—of whom he did know; then the man branded her pussy!  Teri lost consciousness thereafter.  Tom was close to doing but was mesmerized by the naked twelve year old.  He didn’t know her and didn’t know that August had any children.

	The stench of the burnt flesh was horrid.  August seemed to have no compunction about what he did—or having a naked twelve year old jerk off a horse!  Gobs and gobs of horse cum splashed onto Teri’s cunt—her legs were pulled back, tied securely and the naked twelve year old worked another horse to orgasm shooting it’s load onto Teri’s ass and cunt; during the whack off the girl had seemingly tried to get the horse’s horsey dick INTO Teri’s cunt AND asshole!
	Tom just couldn’t speak even if he wanted to.  He retched and gagged and didn’t even think of what was going to happen to him.  Hunter he knew was pissed but damn!
	After the girl had gotten the horse, Kosmo, to cum, she moved the horse back into his stall, hugged the animal, then returned to the trailer.  Teri had been, unfortunately, awake during the time she was nearly raped and sodomized by the horse.  She was only dully aware of the naked girl but fully aware of August, Hunter, and Tom.
	She cussed up a storm demanding to be let go.  Tom urinated on her face while August prepared to move the stunned Tom into a new position.  Tom’s hands were behind him, his feet hobbled, but he still tried to fight.  August zapped him with a cattle prod and delighted in watching the man twitch on the strewn hay.
	After he had settled, Tom and August moved the 35 year old former pro-rodeo champ right up to Teri’s cum drenched pussy that still had a “burnt” smell to it.
	“What the fuck are you doing?  You crazy motherfuckers!” Tom yelled.
	“Payback’s a mother, aint old friend!?” Hunter jeered.  “I tolt your sorry ass long time ago, ‘don’t fucking cross me’ and here what you’ve done, crossed me.”
	“FUCK YOU!” screamed Tom as he was forced down to put his mouth to Teri’s horse cum laden cunt.  The cattle prod was a great motivator.  While he twitched again, ropes were secured about his shoulders linking him to Teri’s pulled back legs essentially keeping him in place.  His torment was far from over.
	“Eat that pussy, good friend!  Eat it like you were lovin’ it when I caught you!”
	Tom shook his head, spouted off a few obscenities and carried on so that he was once more hit with the cattle prod.  During his much aligned twitching his legs were unhobbled and spread WIDE apart, and secured so by rope to the stall beams.

	August patted the man’s ass smiling and saying, “This is gonna be good!”
	“God-fucking-damn!” Hunter exploded, “This shit givin’ me a guldern hard-on!”
	August smiled and began working into Tom’s unfucked asshole the business end of the cattle prod.
	Tom, naturally, went ballistic.
	The prod went in—in—in before it met serious resistance.  August guess that was where the intestinal tract took a turn.  He let the handle part of the prod dangle and went to the forge and stoked it, worked the bellows, and twisted the irons within.  Hunter stood jeering, bitching, and yanking on his pud chastising Teri as he peed on her face then tried in vain to cum there.
	“You shoulda stayed with me, bitch!”
	Teri seethed, spat, and was just about out of her mind.
	“I wouldn’t let her suck your nuts,” August cautioned, “she seems a little irked!”
	Hunter laughed and August came into the stall with a freshly fired up branding iron.
	Joe’s eyes bulged near out of his skull.
	Joe’s eyes DID bulge out of his skull when the freshly fired up branding iron was pressed against his ass.  He screamed into Teri’s horsey cum strewn cunt until he passed out.
	“Hmmm,” August mused, “low threshold of pain.”
	Hunter stood back so as to see both Joe and Teri and jerked off.

	Not even nine o’clock in the morning and the temperature reading on the faded thermometer clock on the stall wall read 95.  The air was still, stank of horse shit and burnt flesh.  His truck was fucked, it was time for new anyways but damn.  His body hurt!  He needed groceries if he was going to keep those he had in the trailer “awhile.”  But first!
	Joe moaned, vomited, then thrashed his head being a little incoherent.
	“Morning, motherfucker!” Hunter said smiling to his former friend.
	Joe tried to speak but didn’t seem to be able to do more than babble.
	August wriggled the cattle prod still shoved into Joe’s asshole—then turned it on.  The man twitched and twitched and twitched before twitching no more.
	“Well, that’s the end of their cheating asses!” spat Hunter.
	“Now all we gots to do is,”
	“Get rid of them.”
	Evidence.  No witnesses.  No entanglements.

	And out in the wilds of the deep desert it was easy to bury evidence.
	But it wasn’t quite out in the wilds of the desert did August and Hunter go traipsing.  They did go traipsing across the wilds of the desert but made their way down to the San Miquez—about the same area where unfortunate Dwayne had gone adrift.
	Nancy was first.
	August squatted and watched her be twirled by the deep river canyon, bob up and down a couple of times, then disappeared under the smooth as glass river.  He remained squatting for a few more minutes until the sun began to burn the back of his neck.
	Hunter dragged the semi conscious Teri to the water’s edge, 
	“We coulda had a good life, you stupid fuckin’ whore!” then he rolled her off into the water—there was no “shore”, no gentle slope into the river—it was deep from the get go.
	Joe was dead.  Nothing ceremonial about his departure.  August and Hunter stood watching them drift and then be sucked down into depths never to be seen again.

	Dale Botsun who ran the general store in Verde Mesa had a pickup truck for sale, good price and cash only.  That suited August just fine.  After the transfer of some junk from the old Dodge to the new Dodge, August signed off on the old pickup he had had for years and didn’t look back as it was towed to the scrap yard.
	Then he headed to Desert City, a bigger town, better groceries.

*

the horsey did what?
	It was a sight to behold—Brandy Tobile laying nakedly sprawled out on the backside of Atom Might.  It gave cause for August Moone to have serious wood.  The girl was lovely as she was—even more so in the position of being on the back of the horse!
	To catch up; in the trailer, Alyssa Tobile, thirteen; with her sisters Brandy and Carly, twelve and ten, and brother, Zach ripe at nine.  Nick Koffman from an earlier acquisition, he was nine also.  A new wave of newbies brought eleven year old Angela, ten year olds Gianna and Julie, and twelve year old Michael.
	Lastly, Melody, Bradley, Josh, and Ted.

	Ted, Josh, and Carly were 98% themselves.  The rest were at various levels of mind control.  Mostly the EMAD rewire work nested the fact that life at the remote trailer was as it was—naughty.  Although August wanted and desired to trust Ted and Carly—he couldn’t do so explicitly.  Trust no one—and sometimes, not even your self!
	With that said—
	August caressed Brandy’s ass, poked her asshole and took her in (visually speaking) as she lay on Atom Might.  It was a scene like no other.  And only earlier, like the day before, she had willingly whacked the great steed off getting the mighty horse cock to shoot gobs and gobs of horsey cum all over Nancy’s cunt.  Brandy, too, had glided Atom Might’s cock hard against the woman’s cunt and asshole basically raping and sodomizing her.  Not much of penetration had occurred—but close counts.
	Alyssa, there was something about the thirteen year old; not just her looks, her smile, eyes, hair style, or body style.  Perhaps a combo of all bundled together with her personality.  She was a sweet girl, kind of bold, outgoing, not bashful—before and after rewired via the EMAD effect.  August found her delicious; she was very giving—didn’t particular care for giving head or taking it in the ass; she liked to get her pussy pounded and August liked pounding that pussy.
	After spilling his seed onto Alyssa’s hairless poon it was often Melody who got the task of cleaning up; licking clean the girl’s cunt while some other girl clean August’s cock.  In this case it was the pretty demure Angela.  
	As with most (all) the girls currently residing with August, eleven year old Angela had a special place in his heart—as with most (all) of the girls residing with August, he spent quality time with the girl (when he wasn’t traipsing across the desertscape) not ogling her but admiring her.
	The plan was to spend “quality time” with each member residing at the trailer.  But with as many as thirteen (13) members residing at the trailer that was a difficult task; eight of those thirteen were girls so that was easier—but August also had a penchant for the boys (just not as much and not so much for teenage boys.)
	But he liked Angela.  On his bed in the rear of the trailer had the girl after their shower together.  She was lightening up and being more “herself” and thusly easier to deal with.  The re-wire work on her young impressionable mind had done well.  

 	Following commands, suggestions, and having no reservations about being nude, being nude with others who were also nude, submitting sexually from mild sex acts to more intense and disgusting acts frowned upon by modern day society was just a way with her.  August was impressed and as they lay together on the bed she worked his pud and he relaxed.
	He let his mind relax, too.  The past week had been a bitch.  There was regret for what had happened to Dwayne, that still bothered him.  Regret, too, for even Nancy and Teri.  He enjoyed dolling out punishment but figured he had probably gone too far.  Spanking.  Spanking was the more pleasing thing.  What he had done to Nancy, Teri, and Joe?  That wasn’t punishment, that was torture.  On well.
	After much ado about cocksucking, August pulled the girl up to where her sweet freshly cleaned cunt was on his face.  The girl was the only one who really giggled about what she was doing.  Why wasn’t known—she just found sex funny!
	His cock swelled and then some as it was devoured by the girl; his hands on her ass, his tongue rolling about her super delicious pussy thrilled him deeply.  His eyes took in the girl’s pussy, her ass, asshole, all of it.  She was a beautiful girl and deeply pleased with her he was greatly.

	Nick and Zach, and Michael—the two nine year old boys were ok, well—more than ok.  Michael was twelve and he, too, was “ok.”  Ted was sixteen—not ok.  Well, he was in a way—August enjoyed watching him put it to the assorted girls (especially his friends, Bradley and Melody) but August himself was not sexually attracted to the teenager (and Ted, for one, was glad of that!))
	Mostly August liked to toy with the boys’ toys.  He thoroughly liked watching them prance about nakedly; he liked watching them having sex with the girls; and liked snuggling with the boys, too.  The snuggling, of course, advanced to petting, heavy petting, oral and anal pleasure—the boys sucking August and August reaming their assholes.  
	Gianna was neat girl, very bright eyed, curious, helpful, and ready to “join in” on a special fest al la sex.  She didn’t care to be spanked but enjoyed spanking—especially laying her hands to the bare butts of Nick, Zach, and Michael!
	Julie and her big blue eyes.  She was a marvel and August often marveled at her.  Watching her go about the trailer, help feeding the livestock, standing up to pee (outside) thrilled him greatly.  She sucked his cock the most and did a fair job of it, too.  In turn, August sucked on her pussy making her squirm and squeal until she peed on his face.

	Josh Hardon, he was also mostly of himself, and readily complied with August’s wishes and desires.  He didn’t like so much to be fucked in the ass OR spanked but he put up with it as he got to sink his prick into Melody, Gianna, Angela, Bradley, Brandy, Julie, Melody again, and so on.
	He enjoyed them all—one by one.  Watching them go about in their skin, peeing outside, laying down on their stomachs or on their backs, engaging in sex, playing Twister, spanking one another, on and on and on.  The time was, of course, drawing to where like with cattle, some of the herd had to be cut.  But he had grown close to the herd, Carly especially held a special place in his heart.  He had become rather fond of her siblings, too.  Melody was something special, Gianna and Angela were in the mix along with Nick.  
	Having Ted and Josh around helped him out with keeping the trailer activities safe and up to par along with duties to the stock.  The new pickup was a big boost to August and there was enough money to fit a camper on it, too.  A new trailer or even somewhere else to reside occupied his mind but where?  Eighty Acres had been his home for some years, he knew the people, friends with the Indians, familiar with the roads known and not so much; the back roads, the rivers and canyons.
	No one bothered him.
	But the time had come to trim the herd—it was a hard thing to do, too.

*

Long Days of Summer
Or; What the horsey saw, the next day
	Double Wide w/extendo  3bdrm 2bth  lrg kit w/bar  air conditioning storm cellar all on a spacious lot  water well  Boone County  close to schools
	Bingo!
	Boone County was a bit of a drive from Eighty Acres, but there were wooded hills, a river, a canal river, and “close to schools.”  It was time for a move.  The oppressive heat, distance from civilization, the heat, long time resident, the heat, and money enough to set him in ease with a mobilehome equipped with air conditioning and a cellar!
	It was too good to pass up.
	So he didn’t; but first!

	Alyssa.
	Such a lovely girl.  Each resident in the August Moone trailer was different, some were more so than others.  And that was ok; it was deemed that each girl and boy had special inert properties.  Each girl (and boy) had special qualities about them that made them unique and would forever hold a special place in his heart, soul, and mind.
	With Alyssa, he enjoyed the girl riding him.  They would snuggle (with Alyssa on top) and August would often close his eyes taking the girl into his soul.  They would kiss; his hands would smooth over her ass and backside.  It made the lovemaking all the better and the subsequent orgasm was orbit taking.
	Inasmuch as he enjoyed sexual relation involvement—there, too, was something to be said in watching sexual relations.  Brandy Tobile seriously had a pussy ache for horses.  It was unnatural and God damned it (says so in Scripture-- Lev. 18: 6-30 (22) 
22 You shall not lie with mankind as with womankind: it is an abomination. 
23  Neither shalt thou lie with any beast to defile thyself therewith:  neither shall any woman stand before a beast to lie down thereto:  it is confusion.
24 defile not ye yourselves in any of these things:  for in all these the nations are defiled which I cast out before you.
	Well, anyways, Brandy humped Atom Might and Kosmo.  The strange twelve year old seriously got off pressing her bald beaver to the back of the horses—all the while being spanked by August who just thought the whole thing bizarre.
	Zach had a nice little body and August took pleasure in watching the youngster fuck his sisters.  More pleasure was taken with watching the boy SPANK his sisters until they sincerely could not take the boy’s hand anymore.  The young boy loved licking out his sisters’ cunts and shoving his cock into their assholes, peeing on them, and watching them pee on him!  
	There was more pleasure taken watching the boy fuck the likes of Melody and Bradley and sodomize Nick and even Michael and Josh!  August liked the boy and enjoyed quality time with him—usually on his bed with the boy on top of him snuggling.
	Nicholas (Nick) got pretty much the same treatment; a nice looking boy, curious about bugs, how do cacti live in the desert, and why does cum taste so yucky.  Usually it was Michael and Josh who blasted their spunk onto the boy’s handsome face, Ted didn’t like to have sex with the boys so August cut him some slack.

	Angela.
	The pretty girl, reserved, shy, warmed August and when having sex with her he took his time.  She had an incredible face, a beautiful naked body and a deliciously tight cunt of which almost all of his manly manhood could enter.  He loved on her, spanked her, peed on her, watched her stand out in the stall of Atom Might and pee, then lay out on a bale of baled hay and be peed on by Atom Might.  Along with Brandy, Angela also took to toying with the mighty horse’s cock, masturbating it, fondling his huge horsey balls, and laying on top of him humping his backside.
	Gianna most times came to lay across his lap—she also was one along with Julie and Melody who wore panties.  August had a slight fetish watching girls prance about in their panties—along with pissing thru them.  And along with watching them walk about in their undies and peeing thru them, he enjoyed having the girls lay across his lap to be spanked—then, after a succession of spanks pull their panties down to their knees and haul after their ass some more—then—THEN push the panties down to their ankles and once more land five hard smacks to their already burning ass.
	Gianna usually fussed the most and got extra swats.  Julie didn’t like being spanked but took the spanking in lieu of being sodomize and raped repeatedly by ALL the boys one after another with August taking up last and not being very delicate about it like what happened to Gianna.  One night, in lieu of spanking and being cornholed righteously, Julie sat on her knees in the living room of the trailer and the boys all surrounded her.  For the entire day, the previous night, most of the previous evening, the boys had laid off cumming.  No fucking, no jerking, no humping of anykind.  There was work to do to keep them occupied; the trailer was being prepped for abandonment—getting rid of “evidence” and straightening it out some, extra cleaning, and so on.
	Then, that night, Julie received her first Cum Bath.
	The boys surrounded young girl and began masturbating.  To help aid them—Gianna and Angela laid out on the floor fingering themselves while Melody and Bradley went around pressing their breasts against the boy’s backsides and lending a hand helping them to jerk off.
	Josh was the first to shoot off his wad squirting onto Julie’s face with a mighty gush.  Ted followed up with a serious amount of pent up teen cum; Zach managed to squirt, too; but Nick wasn’t able to.  August gave the young girl a nice facial and following the “bath” she sucked on all the cum squirters, Nick, too.

	On his hands and knees, Michael took all of August’s cock—he didn’t often do boys but he DID do them—all the while his mouth was on Bradley’s cunt.  A hole was a hole was a hole.  While humping he “reached around” to play with the boy’s cock, caressed his sides, and drilled him into a new level of anal awareness.
	Spanking from August and the girls was the in thing for boys Zach and Nick, not too hard but enough to turn their young butts a nice shade of red.  For their enduring such punishment they got to chose the evening meal AND dessert!
	Melody.
	She was of the perfect age—perfect age to be readily accepting of his manhood.  It was a fantastic thing to watch Ted fuck the girl, it was a mind blower to watch Michael, Josh, Nick, Zach all take their equal turns humping the teen’s pussy, getting off in and on her face and fucking her backdoor.  But August enjoyed his special time he allotted for her and after a full two months it was noted that she, along with Bradley and Alyssa were “late.”
	Didn’t really change much, August was biding his time—he had contacted the owners of the mobilehome he was interested in.  The real estate agent let it slip that the home had had few hits and little interest.  August was pleased and asked for a bit less in price asked for.  
	Some other mobilehomes and even a farmhouse took his interest, those were in neighboring Chester County.  A very nice motorhome also got his attention—with a motorhome (RV) he could go mobile!  With the EMAD, though, he could do both!  He had acquired enough of the green stuff to help his cause.  He did not do business with a bank—legally or otherwise.  The money “acquired” went to the nearby Indian casino—there it was a simple matter of “exchanging”.  Slot machines and table games helped out there and August simply bundled the ill-gotten booty for fresh fairly new bills and that was that.  (he also made a slight profit)
	Bradley was alright, too; but there was a slight difference—Bradley was 90% herself, she was controllable but had to be somewhat watched and she was not a willing participant in the sex games the others prescribed to.  She was “aware” of what was going on and “aware” of it was going on with—but she couldn’t do anything about it but go with it and tolerate it (that pesky ten percent remaining the culprit there.)
	August spanked her occasionally, fucked her cunt, drilled her ass and had all the boys take their turns doing same including peeing on her and her unto them.  Every now and then the man got a mean streak going in him and he took the girl out to the stalls…

	Brandy got Atom Might started, masturbating him.  Bradley tried to resist and got the cattle prod pressed to her ass as a result.  As she lay wriggling on the ground in the stall of the great horse she was warned about disobedience.
	“If you do that again (disobey) I’ll shove this up your ass.” and turn it on.  Bradley was partly angry and highly pissed off but she in no way wanted that cattle prod up her ass (and turned on.)
	She nodded—but August knew that he couldn’t rightly fully trust her.  The EMAD had been getting a work out and for some time he had let it be in the “silent”/stand-by mode.  90%, though, was all that could be tackled on the teenager.  He did try to go for 88% and wanted 85—but the strength meter decreased—not increased giving the girl 95% free will.
	Force and threat had to be the thing.  August didn’t mind, he sort of so-so liked being forceful but it really wasn’t his thing—just a sometimes necessary thing.
	After Bradley had recovered she took over masturbating duties while Brandy climbed up onto the great horsey and enjoyed humping there.  Bradley sucked on the head of Atom Might making faces and retching as she did so.  The splash of cum covering her face made the girl gag and then hurl.
	She was taken to the spigot for a wash then taken to the stall containing Kosmo.  Kosmo horsey was a little smaller but a great horse.  August had ridden Kosmo all over the nearby ridge, thru the washes, and out ran some coyotes.  Once more the girl whacked the horsey cock but didn’t have to suck it or blast its cum onto her face.  That was good and she was glad of it; however, she had to lay out on a baled bale of hay, legs open and take the horsey cock to her pussy!
	A bit of horse dick did manage—with Brandy’s help the entire head of Kosmo the Flying Horse’s cock went into the teen’s snatch.  Brandy masturbated the cock with a loving touch getting him to cum and flood Bradly’s pussy and blow the girl’s mind.
	Brandy wanted fucked in the same manner.
	Who was August to deny her?

Decisions
	Some decisions were easier than others.  Like, whether to buy 2-ply toilet paper or splurge for the new and improved 3-ply?  Buy the $4.98 six pack or get the 18 pack for $1.50 more?  Or as my friend Bender would say, “Buy one $300 hooker-bot or 300 $1 hooker-bots!?”

	Almost three months after being acquired by August, Angela, Gianna, Julie, and Michael were returned to society.  It wasn’t an easy let go, either.  An attachment had developed, the conditioning of the Acquired Ones had set in and the need for the EMAD and Force w/Punishment nil.  Rewiring them and doing away with what had happened to them during their three month excursion AND inputting new & improved notions on how they would be forevermore was the next trick.  And it was time consuming, too.
	Angela and the aforementioned others, would not remember what had happened to them—but they would continue to engage sexually with themselves and each other.  If the “others” were separated then they themselves would seek out someone else to make hey-hey with.
	August was saddened to see them go.  He liked them all, Gianna had warmed him, Angela pleased him.  He rather liked Michael and very muchly was pleased with Julie.  But he couldn’t keep them all.  So he didn’t.  It was a hard thing to let go the next batch, too; Melody, Bradley, Josh, and Ted.  It soured his mood; Ted volunteered to stay but August wanted a clean break.  He was keeping some—there was just no way he could not do so.  Melody and Bradley were “wired” so as they would continue to be friends with Josh and Ted—very friendly.  Josh also volunteered to hang with August but understood that he had go home.
	Afterwards, August said goodbye to Eighty Acres, Desert City, Verde Mesa, the San Miquez River, and Hunter Liggit.  He loaded up the horses, the goat, the chickens, and Alyssa, Brandy, Carly, Zach, and Nick and made for new digs in Boone County.

*

In good company
	“Who’s that?”
	“New guy, August Moone.”
	“He’s got kids.”
	“And horses!”
	“No wife, though.”
	Then,
	“I know you’re staring at the horses, right?”
	Uh, no.
	Busted Boyd shrugged and offered a meager smile,
	“Sorry, babe, I was just checkin’ them, they new, that’s all.”
	Brianna took his apology but knew the horndog was checking the new girls out just the same.  

	Summer was dragging on and on and on.  Boyd was a little miffed that his girl, Brianna, may bug out by the end of summer and the start of the new school season.  She was only supposed to be temporary and spend the summer with her grandparents; come the end of summer then she was to go back with her bickering folks.
	Autumn, however, was staying.
	Fat Boy, Angus, was hanging out due to an incarcerated Dad and not wanting to go to the county care.  There was no “orphanage” in the tri-county area but in neighboring 4rth county, Stanis, there was a Foster Care system, and in no way no how was Angus going there.  Boone County was his home and that was that.
	Boyd had managed to keep from getting into too much trouble—along with his girl’s suspicious Grandmother who very nearly busted them while he was hiding out in Brianna’s bedroom.  The old gal was sneaky and wise and though Brianna was a “good girl” the old lady wasn’t that trusting.
	Boyd had hidden himself in the girl’s closet—naked.  None of Brianna’s clothes fit him, of course, so he was stuck being naked and would have to wait until dark before trekking home.  His home life wasn’t so hot but it was better than nothing.  
	The four companions checked out the new arrivals; the man, August Moone, had a big diesel pickup towing a horse trailer.  One of the horses from the trailer was a big beast, handsome and gallant.  Two other horses, one a female, were just as nice—but not a big.  There, too, was a goat and a load of half a dozen chickens and rooster.  There was room for them all, the double wide mobilehome sat on a nice lot with lots of room for the animals.  One side had a large iron pipe corral enclosure while the other had mostly sand and some lawn.  A few fruit trees, a cactus garden, and a lot of openness.
	Though Boyd was guilty of staring at the girls, Brianna was kind of curious about the two boys but mostly the horses.  Angus was only mildly curious about the three girls—he had other things on his mind and wanted to “get gone.”
	Autumn was just curious about the new arrivals as a whole.  She figured the oldest two girls would be at her school and she would like to make friends with them—more friends the better as there were some girls at Jonas Middle School who didn’t like Autumn and it would be nice to have back-up.
	Angus got Boyd’s attention—tapping his wrist watch.
	“Hey,” said Boyd, “we’ gonna go swimming or sit here starin’ at horse dicks?”

	Brianna rolled her eyes—sometimes boys could be so crude.
	The kids gathered themselves and left the new arrivals slipping off to thru the meadow making for the sunken mine swimming hole.  The day was hot, muggy, and virtually unpleasant—a nice swim was just the thing.  Strange that in an area where it was scorching hot thru the summer there were few who had swimming pools in their backyard…

	“Damn but it’s hot!” exclaimed Brianna boldly.  She fanned herself and even had her button top open fanning her chest.
	“We’re almost there.” said Boyd haggardly.  
	“We’re lost!” exclaimed Autumn exhaustedly.
	“No we’re not!” Boyd said almost angrily.
	Brianna nodded to Autumn ‘Yes we are.’
	The boys followed a long narrow pathway that after what seemed an hour came to a crossing path.  The boys stopped, they had never come to a path crossing their path to the swimming hole.
	“That aint right.” declared Boyd.
	‘We’re lost!’ Brianna whispered again.
	“I think it’s this way.” Autumn said pointing thru the tall grassy meadow.  The boys looked to her and then to each other.
	“How do you know?” Boyd asked almost sarcastically.
	“’Cause it’s between the tracks and Knob Hill.”  (Knob Hill was the only blot on the otherwise flat meadow landscape.)
	Boyd wrinkled his nose, shunned the sun with hand and looked to the direction Autumn indicated.
	“We’ve come pretty far,” she continued, “it’s gotta be close ‘cause we’re just in line with that power tower.” On the right was one of those huge metal powerline structures.
	The boys hung loose debating with themselves.  Autumn sighed exasperatedly and pushed her way between them heading straight thru the shoulder high grass and weeds.  Brianna followed quickly turning to the boys,
	“Coming?”
	The boys looked to one another—
	‘be damned if I’m going to be showed up by a girl!’ was their shared sentiment and they struck out after the girls “Hey!  Wait up!”
	Twenty minutes later and they were at the sunken mine aka swimming hole.  The girls were naked and smiling big.  The boys were dejected but stripped off their clothes and let it be.  The girls could win one once in awhile.  Once.

	Brianna and Autumn still weren’t too comfortable with swimming out into the middle of the fresh water pond OR swimming down to where the equipment was buried.  Boyd and Angus had no fear.  Suddenly, though, Angus came shooting up from the depths in a dire panic.
	“What?” Boyd asked not knowing what the cause of his friend’s panic.
	Angus tried to conceal his fright and not alarm the girls.
	“Someone’s down there.” he said in a hoarse whisper. 
	“Say what!?”
	Angus tugged on Boyd’s arm and pulled him down.
	“What the fuck are they up to?” Brianna asked aloud.
	“No good, no doubt.” Autumn replied.
	“We ought to leave their asses here.” 
	“I don’t want to go to the river but our secret pond in the woods would be good.”
	“I have to be home soon, though.”
	“Yeah, me, too; my Aunt’s been suspicious or some junk.  Kind of been on my case a bit—mostly bitching about me hanging with the boys too much.”
	“Adults, suck all the fun out of being a kid.”
	Autumn agreed and languished by the shore facing the middle of the pond; Brianna kept vigil on her feet—not trusting the boys and anticipating that they would try to sneak up on them from underwater and try to drag them down or something.
	Suddenly the boys shot up to the surface and looked seriously panicked.
	“What the fuck?” Brianna asked.
	Neither boy answered but swam to the shore and clung there looking very panicky.
	“What’s going on?” Brianna persisted.
	“We need to get out.” Boyd said trying to be calm.
	“Why?  What is it?”
	Neither boy wanted to say but the girls got it that the boys weren’t playing, something had them spooked.
	After gathering their clothes they headed for the tracks—Dark Thunder was due anyway.
	The boys walked in silence a little ahead of the girls.  The girls were worried, concerned, and peeved that the boys weren’t spilling.  But for the moment they were willing to cut the boys some slack and let them be.  For now.

	At the train shack the boys slumped down inside to be out of the immediate heat.  The girls had no desire to trek further or to the nearby Dangnabbit River.
	“School’s gonna start soon,” Brianna said noting the sketches of crude drawings and misspelled sayings on the cracked wall of the shack, “hope I’m here for it.”
	“Don’t you like the city?” Autumn asked.
	“Not really, it’s ok; there’s the malls and museums and parks and stuff but, I dunno, guess I’m a country girl at heart.”
	The boys remained quiet.
	“How far is it to the bridge, the other bridge?” Brianna asked.
	“Kinda far.” Boyd said standing up brushing his butt off.
	“We couldn’t make it?” Autumn asked curiously.
	“Hmmm, we might.”
	Brianna had second thoughts as they hoofed it down the track to the first trestle, the one over the dry Bald Deer River.  It was quite aways away actually and the great behemoth locomotive, Dark Thunder, was due.  On the left was thick brambles and bushes and not a lot of space between the tracks and them; on the right was the marshy part of the meadow and not pleasant to walk in.

	When the trestle over the dry river came into view—the ground ‘neath their feet began to tremble.
	“SHIT!” yelled Boyd.
	Though they were tired and way hot—“RUN!” roared Boyd grabbing Brianna’s hand.  Smoke could be seen darkening the skies around the great hill, cinders were already in the air and the mighty mightness of the magnificent locomotive was ominous at best.
	Scarcely and did the kids reach the bridge and down the embankment to get safely (safely?) underneath.  The massive iron beast roared across the tracks but noticeably not as charging as it usually did.  Still, though, it was threatening and fearful.
	The massive  train lumbered along coming almost to a complete stop.
	“It’s never done that before.” Boyd stated.  The four scrambled back up the embankment and watched as the last train car barely creeped along.
	“What’s going on?” Brianna asked aloud.
	Boyd had no answer.  Angus was bemused,
	“Maybe it’s waiting for me!” he said.
	“Waiting for you?”

	The boy shrugged, 
	“Yeah, I’ve been wanting to ride this thing,”
	“Like the hobos?” Autumn asked.
	“Yeah, sorta, I guess, just to get me across the bridge.”
	“Yeah,” interrupted Boyd, “but it don’t slow down or stop once over the Dang river, it’ll take you ‘cross country!”
	“No prob,” said Angus shirking off the threat, “had enough of this place as it is—time to see something different.”
	Just then the train couplers banged and the wheels of the train began to turn faster.
	“It’s taking off.” Boyd stated the obvious.
	“We should, too.” said Brianna, “It’s fucking too hot!”
	The sights and smells of the great locomotive and its 200 cars rumbled on and out of sight.  The smelly odor of the creosote ties, the stench of the nearby swamp, the oppressive heat drove the kids to traipse into the woods and to their secret pond.
	“We ought to do one more weekend camp out.” Boyd declared.
	The girls were in agreement, whether or not their guardians would be remained to be seen.  The boys seemed to be a little “lighter” and jostled one another as they made their way into and thru the woods.  They paused to pee, fart, and throw rocks all over the place.  The girls shook their heads at the “boys” and were glad they were back to themselves.  But something had spooked them and they weren’t telling!

	Kevin Reynolds.
	Kevin Rynolds was twelve and he was a rascal; vandalism was just one of his casual pranks—knocking over headstones in the cemetery, putting glue in business door locks, bashing mailboxes.  He was short statured, missing front teeth, wore an earring, and seldom wore a shirt.  He cussed a lot, seldom went to school, and was at the scene of several arsons but never caught at it.
	Kevin Reynolds would forever be twelve.
	The image of the boy filled the boys’ minds—moreso to Angus as he had had the same problem not so long ago; getting his foot stuck in the under the water mining equipment.
	Whether or not he had been alone, though, was not known.  Surely he hadn’t been; he was always—always with his buds, Donny and Bart (see chptr 34; pg 26).  

	“I bet they were all there.” Boyd surmised.
	“But I don’t understand.” Angus replied, the image of the drowned boy just consumed his thoughts.
	“They probably panicked, Donny and Bart, and when they couldn’t get their pal free,”
	“Wow, they freaked and left him there!?” Brianna said sneaking in on the boys’ private conversation.
	Boyd fumed, what had happened, what he had seen he regarded as personal and private.  He hadn’t told Brianna and Autumn to save them from the horror of young Kevin Reynolds floating ten feet underwater with his foot caught in an upturned sunken bulldozer’s cables.
	It was an image that wouldn’t soon go away.
	“He was a bully,” Brianna started to say.
	“That doesn’t matter!” shouted back Boyd.
	The outburst caught Brianna off-guard.  She realized she should have kept to herself or at least not barge in on the boys’ convo.
	“Was he your friend?” she asked.
	“Hell no!” Boyd exclaimed.  But still, 
	Angus stared out to the gloomy skies that had come up.  He sighed and farted but the mood was solemn so he didn’t giggle about it.  He had been caught, just like Kevin—but unlike Kevin, Angus had had friends to help him out.  An emotion suddenly swept over him and he quickly turned his back then got up and went into the woods.
	Brianna looked after him curiously,
	“Leave him alone,” Boyd said, “he’s got shit to deal with.”
	Brianna didn’t understand what he meant but let it go just the same.
	“He’s hurting.” she told Boyd.
	Boyd remained as he was for a couple of minutes then got up and made way after his friend.
	“What’s going on?” Autumn asked coming back into the scene after leaving to have a personal moment of her own.
	Brianna told her so she would know.
	“Wow.” said Autumn.
	“Keep it to yourself,” Brianna told her friend, “it’s apparently touched him and made him upset.”
	The girls vowed to keep it to themselves and the boys returned excited about another find.  The girls were dragged by the excited boys and the horror-find of Kevin Reynolds faded.

*

neighborly neighbors being neighborly neighbored
	Not every household in Boone County had horses; not every house in the county had a swimming pool; not everyone in Boone went fishing and/or hunting.  But just about any resident of the county had a hobby.  The neighbors of August Moone were no exception.  One day while Magic the Wonder Horse of Meadows Farm was “visiting” Atom Might the Mighty Mount, this is what she saw:
	Alongside the right hand side of the bed, Marcia, sisters Janiffer, and Cayly.  On the left hand side of the queen size bed, Grant, and his brothers, Perry and Ben.  ON the queen size bed that took up most of the room in the average sized mobilehome bedroom, still newlywed Carol Anne Stavish-Braybury.  She was naked.  So were her daughters aforementioned and new “sons” also just mentioned.  On top of her was her still newlywed husband of nine months, Mitchell Braybury.  A “school” session of sorts was in progress and Mitchell was the instructor.
	No one seemed distraught about the immodest act on the bed.  The boys stood with their hands before them concealing their erections; even young seven year old Benny had a boner!  The girls, too, standing opposite of the bed, stood with heads bowed, hands before concealing their nakedness.
	Mitchell Braybury “put it to” his new wife; Carol Anne received her new husband and didn’t seem to mind the deliberate act of unashamed lovemaking.  Carol Anne was three years younger than Mitchell, blond haired, 32Cs, and being in her mid thirties still retained a nice body.  Her pussy was void of pubes; she was in good shape for 37 yrs. young; she had a good personality, seldom serious, seldom over emotional except in times of crisis.
	Marcia was scarcely twelve years young; sister Janiffer had just turned ten four months prior, and Cayly, the youngest Braybury-Stavish was just six.  At twelve, Marcia had “development”; her pussy had a light layer of blond pubes; there were no marks, marrings, unsightly moles, or even blemishes on her young body.  She was very slender, of average height for her age group, somewhat demure, shy, and prim in nature as opposed to sister Janiffer who was more outgoing and tomboyish.  Both girls had super fine—super long blond hair.  Their intent was to let their blond hair grow as long as it could.
	Sister Cayly had short shoulder length hair and she liked it that way.

	New Daddy Mitchell humped his new wife, raised up to give his boys and new daughters a looksee at the penetration of his manhood into the girl’s Mother and the boy’s new Mother.
	Grant had wood.  Perry had wood.  Ben had wood.
	At thirteen it was a given that being naked would give the boy a boner; being naked with his new siblings—definitely boner material.  Being naked with his naked siblings AND watching his naked Dad fuck the new Mommy?  Wow—bonerlicious!
	It was still embarrassing, though; that couldn’t be helped.
	Mitchell pulled out and humped Carol Anne’s bald cunt; a bit of cum spurted onto the woman’s heaving stomach—then he reinserted and continued his pumping until he was spent.  Carol Anne said nothing during the unconcealed act on the bed.  She seemed to languish in a quasi realm of “aware” and “not so” aware.  Mitchell was clearly in control and humped a good hump driving his manly bone DEEP into the woman’s cunt, straining hard whilst his prick shot a massive wad of man spunk into her womanness.
	He was exhausted.  Pulling out more spunk squirted and he made a mighty outburst indicating pleasure.  After a couple of minutes he moved down the bed some, masturbating his cock and eyeing the girls who stood in utter awe.  Then he looked to Grant and nodded.
	The boy sighed and seemed reluctant; but got a look from his Dad saying “you better do as your told” and so he did—climbing onto the bed and guiding his teenage erection into his new Mom’s cunt.  As he instinctively pumped—Mitchell caressed the boy’s ass.
	Carol Anne said nothing, did nothing.  She moaned and was seemingly aware of getting laid—but whether or not she was aware of WHO she was getting laid by remained unclear.
	Grant slowed a few times, seemed to be straining and finally collapsed onto his new Mom with his sex clenching uncontrollably.  A pat on the ass from his Dad and the boy slithered off to lay on his stomach beside the new Mom—but another tap to the boy and he rolled over to lay on his backside.  He was a swath of sweat, heaving, and his teenage prick still spurting some spew.
	Eleven year old Perry came nextly to get it on with the new Mom; Perry was basically hairless save for the thick mop of dark hair on his head.  At eleven he was the same height as his older brother, Grant.  He was more lean and slightly more active than Grant.  More cheerful, found humor in most things and made merry of everything else.  A lighthearted kid who didn’t hesitate when his Dad prompted him to mount.

	Perry went just two minutes before unleashing his special love.  He wasn’t as exhausted as Grant had been and sat up marveling at what he had done, staring at his new Mom’s cum soaked snatch and beheld a face of bemusement.
	Then the youngest Braybury took his turn.  Benny was seven and didn’t have much to offer—but a nice average wiener for a boy of seven.  Like his brothers, he had a thick mop of raven black hair; a slim body, and a knack to fuck.  Like brother, Perry, Ben was a lighthearted kid but was a little embarrassed about the deed to be done.
	Being merely seven with a cock that was just a few inches in length hard—young Benny humped five minutes before being tapped on the ass “get off.”  Many times during the five minute hump did his little prick slip out.  He humped in and on his new Mom’s cunt the full five minutes then rolled off to lay on the side of the bed next to the gawking girls.
	Then,
	For the longest time she tried to avoid eye contact with her new Daddy.  But he cleared his throat and got Marcia’s attention anyways.  He nodded to her, she sighed, closed her eyes and moved onto the bed.  Straddling her Mom’s waist, ass up, she endured the indignity of being closely scrutinized and ogled.  But that was nothing compared to being licked…
	She tried not to clench but it was an involuntary response.  She lay with her head on her Mom’s chest—nothing was said but much was done.  The man who was her new Daddy was licking her butt hole!  It was unconscionable!  It was unbelievable!  It was—
	Words escaped the humiliation she felt; she twisted and couldn’t believe what was happening to her.  She wriggled her darling little butt; her new Daddy held her firmly as he dragged his tongue all about her anal rim, nipped her cheeks, then apparently probed her hole!
	Marcia’s stomach tightened, she blinked her eyes and turned from staring at the naked Cayly to see Grant laying on her right staring up to the ceiling.  She didn’t blame him—he was as much a victim as was she and the rest of the family.
	Suddenly there was a new intrusion—it wasn’t new Daddy’s tongue but his finger!  His finger!  OMG!  Marcia had no choice but to clench to convey some sort of protest.  The protest went unheeded and Marcia’s asshole was finger fucked.
	That was followed by being turned over and laid right onto her naked Mom; her legs spread open wide and new Daddy’s tongue licked out her pussy.

	There were mixed feelings that drove the poor hapless girl crazy.  There were tingling sensations she had never before experienced—but wanted to over and over again.  But then, too, it was a violation.  Wasn’t it?  She began to lose sight of what was Right and Wrong; a bout of confusion filled her mind—was it Right or Wrong to be naked with her siblings; to be naked with her parents; to be naked especially with her Daddy?
	What was Right—what was Wrong?
	The tongue action to her cunny seemed so right that it couldn’t be wrong!  The tingling transitioned to that feeling of take a seriously hard morning piss.  The relief was more fantastic—more than words could describe.
	Then,
	New Daddy came crawling up between her legs…

	In her mind she was screaming “NO!  NO!  NOOOOO-oooo!”
	New Daddy, Mitchell, laid his Daddy dong against Marcia’s lovely-lovely simply-fucking lovely cunt and there he did hump.  Marcia blinked her eyes and tried to twist herself but to no gain.
	Mitchell not wanting to be rough with his new daughter cooed to her; he lay gently on her—didn’t stop humping against her virgin cunt—and cooed-cooed-cooed to her until she settled.
	It was of note that his manhood was too much for her young delicate pussy.  Oh, he could be the full asshole and not care and just jab the thing into her, but there were other ways.
	How many minutes there was from when he had began cooing to Marcia and when he finally spurted his love cream onto her virgin snatch was elusive.  A great quantity of cum spilled to coat the girl’s quim and totally relax the man into a delightful euphoric bliss.  And before his cock totally limped out he gouged the head into her crevice.
	Using the girl’s on cast off panties from the floor where she had earlier undressed, new Daddy Mitchell nodded to number two son—Perry.  Smiling and behaving like a mischievous boy he took position on his new sister humping against her—not in her.
	Marcia was calm, she clenched, twisted, and made facial expressions indicating mixed emotions—mostly of pleasure.  “OOOOOH—Daddy, yes!” she had cooed back while her Daddy had been on her (the last bit).  She said nothing but conveyed much as Perry humped her followed by Ben.
	Benjamin was actually the one who was capable of getting IN to his sister’s beaver.  So he did.  But his cock wasn’t enough to bust the girl’s cherry.  He humped, slipped out, humped some more until he wore out.

	Mitchell caressed both his boys as they humped on Marcia; he fondled their testicles thru their legs and scooted up to lay his once more engorged cock against their basically lily white assed.  He humped himself against the boys, spanked them, poked their bung holes, and very nearly made sodomized them!
	At length, Marcia was allowed off of her Mother.  Mitchell hugged his cock that was greatly hard—hard enough to break bricks with.  Then, nodded to daughter number two, Jannifer.  The timid girl had confused thoughts—she wanted to obey but struggled with compliance.  New Daddy Mitchell snapped his fingers and that seemingly brought the girl to her senses—to her controlled senses.  She ambled onto the bed and lay on her Mother, ass up.

	Normally Marcia would have had issue with young sib Cayly being treated the way she was—with Jannifer, too.  Both girls like Marcia had to get on their apparently mindless Mother, ass up first.  New Daddy Mitchell then assessed their ass, then took his tongue to it gouging the crack and then the hole itself before plunging a finger inward.
	That was followed up by the girls turning over and laying down—legs open wide.  New Daddy Mitchell “went down” on the girls, licking his fill before saddling up and laying his fuck stick against their slits.  There he did hump; grinding his meat stick right into their young crevices barely able to issue any cum at all.
	But it was fun trying!
	He marveled at each girl.  He took her in, drank her in, filled his mind and soul with each new daughter.  They were each different; each had differing personality, appearance, and mannerisms.  Each had a pussy taste that was different, too!
	Each girl, in turn, was not only humped on by their new Daddy, but by their new brothers, as well.  Grant seemed to be the one most to try and resist or show displeasure.  But he did follow thru and didn’t hesitate—not even when laying on little Cayly.  Marcia, though, saw when he was standing by the bedside seemingly pissed off.
	Perry gave no such emotion and just humped the girls than stood beside the bed.  Ben was a little giddy and unsure of himself but guided by his Dad he did the deeds one-two-three and then stood by the bedside while ONE MORE TIME new Daddy Mitchell fucked his new wife.

*

	“Hi.” she said with voice not chipper, delightful, cheerful, enthusiastic; just a simple greeting.
	“Hi.” he replied with a voice of not being so chipper or friendly but respectful.
	The night was dark, warm, and full of bugs.  Regardless, Grant sat on the brick flowerbed boarder a few minutes after midnight.  His mood seemed sullen—like the humid air.
	“Been out here long?” she asked sitting next to him.
	He shrugged, slapped at a bug on his neck, sighed saying “Half an hour or so.  Couldn’t sleep.”
	“It’s new for all of us; this house, country life,”
	“The bugs, the heat, it’s all different,”
	“Too different.”
	They sat in silence for a few minutes more.  Then Grant sighed saying,
	“Dad wants me to,” he paused and struggled to get the words out, “he wants me and you to,”
	“Oh.” she got it.
	Marcia wore her knee length nightgown, she smelled good, and stifled a yawn.  Grant stifled a fart.  He was in boy pajamas and debated within himself about how to go about what his Dad had dictated that he do.
	“It’s ok,” Marcia said, “I understand.” He calm manner helped.
	“Really?” Grant asked, “You mean it’s ok?”
	Marcia took her turn at shrugging, “Might as well get it over with.”
	Grant finally smiled.
	“Does he want to watch us?” Marcia asked curiously.
	“Not now, but I think so later.”
	Marcia nodded.  “Where do you want to do it?”

	Inside the house there might be prying eyes.
	Outside the house and there were bugs—not too mention it was more than just a little warm.  In the garage?  Kind of still jammed with two households full of crap that wouldn’t fit nicely in the new manufactured home.  Storm cellar?  Too creepy, dark, and dank.
	Grant smiled a quirky smile—one of the traits Marcia liked about him.  Taking his sister’s hand he led her up to the roof where there was an observation platform.  The one thing about being out from the city, the skies were clear and easy to see without the light pollution.

	“And it’s cooler up here, too.”  It was fifteen feet from the ground level to the observation platform where a telescope was stationed and it was some degrees cooler.  Strangely, though, Grant didn’t “get down to business” straightaway, rather he stood staring up at the stars.  Marcia stood beside him being quiet and reserved.
	“Supposed to be all sort of stuff to see up there besides the dippers,” Grant said, “a bear, zodiac signs, galaxies,”
	“Never could see that stuff in the city.”
	“I guess living out here wont be all bad.”
	“Getting used to the horse smell is going to be something.”
	Grant giggled, turned to his sister and became serious.
	Marcia leaned against the cast iron rail put up for safety; a light breeze brushed her hair into her face.  For her age, she was pretty—going to be prettier as she got older.
	Grant let out his breath, stifled a yawn along with a still troublesome fart, then pushed down his pajama bottoms.  No underwear.  His teenage cock was half erect and dangling.  Though there was no moonlight, the night sky provided well enough.  Marcia held her smile, shook some cobwebs in her mind—got serious herself and obeyed an implanted command ‘let your brother Grant have his way with you.’
	Marcia slipped off her one piece nightgown and stood in her panties.
	Grants timid schlong sprang to life.

	“I have to do Jan and Cayly, too.”
	“I know.”
	His cock swelled as it entered into the final phase of lovemaking.  Grant battled with himself to hold back or just let it fly.  Confusion and strong sexual feelings overwhelmed all else and Grant pumped for all he was worth (figuratively speaking).
	Marcia clung to her brother; their arms and legs locked like insects.  Her young cunny tingled giving her incredible sensations never before experienced—but wanted to a thousand times over.
	The Braybury boy was gentle—moreso than his Dad was.  Marcia knew that somewhere down the line she would be receiving her new Daddy’s cock.  She wondered what it would be like.  But first!
	Grant’s cock slid into her womanness ushering in a whole new world of extreme pleasure—coupled with a quick sharpening pain.  It was discomforting for a brief moment.  It was her first time and she was giving it up to her brother!  Well, her step-brother.  He was gentle and did go after it like a rabid rabbit.

	It was Grant’s first time, too; not counting boning his new Mom.  Sinking his pud into Marcia was something he couldn’t put words to.  It had only been the day before when he had been on his new Mom; the entire day his mind had been rocked, rocketed, and rammed with what had happened.  Only with a “talk” with his Dad sometime later did he finally calm down.  
	The final message from his Dad was “do it to Marcia” or words to that effect.  Marcia was pretty, but she was twelve.  Janiffer was ten and Cayly—Cayly was six!  His Dad told him to “do them all” or words to that effect.
	There was no denying the feeling of sex.  It was overwhelming.  It was mind boggling.  It was fucking incredible!  All there was was to slam his cock into Marcia’s cunt and that was that.  The girl was lovely; her young pre-teen breasts that were of nominal size—palm size, jiggled.  The girl glistened; she smiled and overpowering feelings swam in all directions all over his body crushing his thoughts of Right and Wrong.  It was wonton sex and that was all there was to it.
	Marcia had the same feelings; it was a rush as she was brought to the brink of sexual pleasure—the ultimate pleasure all girls sought.  Marcia found herself engulfed with sensations she didn’t understand.  Her nipples perked up and she was grinding herself against her errant lover.
	Then they were kissing!

	No matter what—Grant’s mind was filled with Marcia.  Was it love?  Was it passion?  A little of both?  No longer did it matter that she was a sister by marriage—she was a girl, a lovely girl, and the night of passion up on the roof was utterly Fucking-A fantastic!
	With their hormones escalating out of control and their shared orgasm mingling in a tingling circus of propelled gratification the new brother and sister joined as one.  Their mouths tried to overcome the other.  Their naked bodies swathed in a sheen layer of sex sweat.  They meshed as one, they rolled and relished in a magical world that was pure ecstasy.
	“I don’t think you should do it to Cayly.” Marcia cautioned later.
	“I know—but Dad wants me to.”
	Silence came between them, then;
	“Well, he said you had to do her—but did he say you had to be the first?”
	Good point.
	But next—Janiffer!

*

The Whistle Stop Kids
	June bugs.  They were loud and unseen and just a little spooky—along with being annoying.  Other insects made their presence known along with assorted pesky pests.  The day was not unlike any other summer day in Boone County—hot-humid-and-muggy.  It was a good hump to the woods to their secret pond; it was further and in the heat it was a bitch—but no one wanted to go to the sunken mine swimming hole anymore.  Boyd suggested an early “get gone” to beat the heat and get into the woods before they sweated to death.
	“So any word about your folks?” Boyd asked of Brianna, “You stayin’ or what?”
	Brianna hadn’t been much in the way of a talkative mood; mainly ‘cause she wasn’t an early riser.  Living in the country was nipping that but her Grandma cut her some slack being raised a city girl.  But with school just around the corner she had to get used to the idea of being up before 7AM.  That truly sucked.
	“This will probably be my last weekend outing.” Brianna said sadly.
	“How’s come?”
	“Granny said so.” then, “School and I should stay closer to home during school time.” then, “She’s a pain.”
	“Just trying to keep you good.” Boyd replied supportively.
	Brianna shrugged, “I guess.”
	“My Aunt’s been on my case, too.” Autumn chimed in.
	“Yeah, my folks been yappin’ at me, but as long as I do some chores and not brought home by the Sheriff then they cut me some slack.”
	“Don’t ask about mine!” Angus giggled.
	The kids laughed and bopped their hands together in some sort of union cementing their unionship.
	“We need a name for ourselves.” Angus said.
	“Yeah!” Boyd agreed enthusiastically.
	“The Train Wreckers!” Angus shouted excitedly.
	Everyone gave him a look—you know the one.
	They trudged onward along the tracks going the opposite direction from the trestle over the river.  They had passed the shack and the trail into the woods to their secret pond—they were off to a new direction, a new exploration around the Ghostwhite Hill.

	“Band of Angus!” shouted Angus. 
	“NO!” shouted the others in unison.
	“The Swamp Raiders!” piped in Boyd thinking up a good one.
	“NO!” shouted the girls.
	“The Panty Riders!” Angus chirped.
	No one even responded to that one.
	“The Goonies!” Boyd cheered.
	“I think there’s a group called that already.” said Brianna flatly.
	The boys gave up and shuffled their packs and continued the hoofing.
	“The Wart Hogs?” Angus said in a low questioningly voice.

*
rounding the bend
	Oh it was hot.  Hot and humid.  The mix of the oil soaked railroad ties didn’t help.
	“Like, just how fucking far is this place?”
	“Just around the corner!” Boyd said.
	Brianna gave him a look, “You said that three corners ago.”
	“Hey,” he said defensively, “I’ve never been there, it’s on the map though.”
	“I’ve heard my Grandpa talk about it,” Angus said, “all the trains stopped there way back when he was a kid.”
	“One more “round” and that’s it!” said a getting angry Brianna.
	Though Boyd wanted to get to the old train station supposedly somewhere on the line, he was getting tired, too.  Most of their last weekend before school was getting eaten up by just walking.
	“Could be worse,” Angus chirped,
	“How?” Brianna asked a little peeved at all the walking.
	“Could be up hill!”
	If it weren’t so hot zapping all her enegery she would have slugged him.  He was lucky she liked him and held herself together.  They rounded the next long sweeping corner and there it was:
Whi t e S op Ju c ion #3
	“What the fuck?” Autumn said uncharacteristically speaking.  The heat was really getting to her for her to swear so.  She shield her eyes like the others and stared up to a half cocked well weathered piece of board some feet above their heads.  Many letters were issing.
	“White Soup Juice?” Autumn quipped.
	The kids stared and stared and finally the intense heat drove them to their next find--

	“HOLY SHIT!” blurted Boyd.
	There was the remains of a large train station, one wall remained and part of a porch.  Something of another building was across the tracks and there were foundations of other buildings all retaken by the forest.  But that wasn’t the reason why Boyd Aryndon blurted so.
	The kids came to where a set of tracks came off from the main line and turned heading into the new woods—young saplings and trees no more than fifty years old.  Buried mostly into the earth sunken down some several feet was a locomotive.  Not a Big Boy like Dark Thunder but a regular engine from about the 1940s and no less thunderous than the boys’ Big Boy that gave them wood when it thundered by them.
	“Sonofabitch!” said Angus.  The engine looked like it had burrowed itself into the landscape and had been there a long time; the entire boiler section was into the earth clear up to the cab!
	“It musta been haulin’ ass!” supplied Boyd.
	“It musta come off of the main going 90!”
	The girls looked to one another not impressed.  The boys babbled on about conspiracy theories of this and that; the girls sweated and couldn’t believe—‘this is it?  We’ve walked ten miles—for this?’

	While the boys scrambled all over the remains of the old locomotive, the girls sought shelter from the heat by exploring the interior of the woods by the remains of the train station.  Foundations were everywhere and at length the pair found another sign giving them insight to where they were:
	Whistle Stop Junction #3
	So said a better sign that was barely readable but it was so more than first sign.  Old benches, pails, lanterns, clipboards, and so one were found all over the place.  Autumn squatted to pee; Brianna noted the boys crawling all over the locomotive engine; she shook her head sadly but was smiling.  Most boys like to play Cowboys and Indians, Army, or Pirate.  Boyd and Angus?  They played Engineer.
	The girls continued their own exploration when suddenly—
	Autumn prowled around outside the foundation of what was once a large structure, possibly a warehouse.  There was an old water pump that took the girl’s attention, she worked the handle that was stuck and required some umph.  Suddenly the wooden floor she stood on gave way and down she went.
	“AUTUMN!” screamed Brianna.  
	The boys came running, “What happened?” Boyd asked.
	“She fell,” cried Brianna, “down there.”

*

My travels with Dad
	Her ass was nice—nicer than even her older sister!  But then again, the girl was younger and most young girls her age did have a nice butt to them and Grant Braybury was an ass man.  With his schlong lubed up with an anal grease product anal penetration to non-bio sister Janiffer was relatively easy.  There was discomfort—mostly on her part and snugness on his part.  But ramming his rod into her ass was the thing—a dictate from his bio-Dad “fuck Janiffer in the ass.”  couldn’t be clearer than that.
	This was done while Janiffer sucked on her new Daddy’s cock.
	In the days that had elapsed since Grant and Marcia hooked up on the observation deck of their new house, Marcia had seemingly “changed.”  He couldn’t figure it—or finger it but the timid girl was different.  She was no longer quite so timid for one thing; almost proudly did she boldly go prancing about the house naked.  Janiffer and Cayly did so, too.  So did the girls’ Mom and Grant’s bio brothers.  “go about the house naked” his Dad had told him—and he assumed the same had been told to the others.
	Going naked really wasn’t so bad, he (and the others) got to go outside naked and do some chores naked.  Only when venturing to the nearby town did they put their clothes back on.  Socializing was minimal as it seemed that the Braybury kids would be “homeschooled”.  Mitchell Braybury seemed to want to keep a low profile.  He didn’t want to be totally unsocialable but for the “break-in” period minimal contact with Boone County residents would be the norm.  
	When he had gotten off on getting off in Janiffer’s asshole, Grant sat back and was bemused at watching his spunk ooze out of her funk hole as well as the funk hole itself slowly snap shut.  His cock ached, his balls tingled; screwing his new Mom and doing Marcia was something—really something!  There were some misgivings about putting his pud into Janiffer, she was not even eleven years old yet!  And in the back of his mind—he knew that his Dad would want him to do something with Cayly.  Cayly was not even seven years old!
	But just when he was getting “bothered” by what his Dad was instigating—those thoughts of moral turpitude were denied.  When he did regain his own thoughts—well, it took time to realize that when he had serious questions about what he and his Dad were participating in—those thoughts and questions were virtually obliterated Grant slowly began to “fake it.”  Hard to fake thoughts to but he managed to do so and came to realize that his Dad was controlling his thoughts.

	Controlling his thoughts electronically!
	“I knew it!” Grant said angrily to himself.  Being sneaky he watched as brother Perry humped sister Janiffer while she sucked on Ben’s tool.  Grant watched as off to one side his Dad manipulating the kids using a gadget not unlike a television’s remote control device.  Grant made a note of it on paper—when he thought about what was happening, what he was seeing and how wrong it was the remote control device “disappeared!”  When he calmed himself again—the device “reappeared!”
	Grant made lots of “notes” and kept them hidden.  Sure he enjoyed putting his pud into Marcia, even Janiffer, but he drew the line at molesting Cayly.  And even having sex of some kind to the two older girls bothered him although a part of him really didn’t mind so much.  It was confusing and drove him into deep debates with himself.

	Then one day—
	“Let’s go for a ride.”
	Grant was for that.  Only occasionally did the family go out of the house.  They did for the purposes of avoiding boredom and stir craziness.  They got to go to town, to the shops, to the movie theatre and to the drive-in theatre in nearby Gilmore County.  There was some socializing and Mitchell had begun integrating the family into the local church, too.
	The “ride” offered to Grant was for just himself, though—no other family involved.  They left their property and headed for town.  Grant asked “where to?” but couldn’t remember if there was an answer or not.  And speaking of “remembering”—Grant couldn’t remember much of the ride at all!  There was long two-lane road, pasture on one side, meadow on the other.  A few trees, lots of cattle, some horses (Magic and Atom Might roaming the meadows) and some other homes of this and that dotting the landscape.  Other than that—Grant had no memory of where they actually went.
	But, his next recollection was being in someone’s big SUV, one of the newer ones.  The a/c was on, both in the front and rear area; there were groceries in the very back, and his Dad was beside him—
	Grant’s Dad was beside him on top of a woman—
	Grant’s Dad was beside him on top of a woman who was not his current wife and they were naked!  Well, mostly naked—the woman’s blouse was on but it was open in the front and her bra was undone freeing her lovely adult sized melons.
	The woman’s pants were at her angles along with her panties.

	Grant blinked his eyes—“what the fu--”
	Mitchell looked to his son, “you aint got her naked, yet?”
	Grant blinked hard to comprehend, felt a little hot then looked down to see that he himself was on top of a girl!  WTF!?  Something was wrong.  And when his confusion lapsed into desperation—
	‘calm yourself—be calm, son, be at ease.’
	His Dad’s voice filled his mind.  Grant let go his breath and with the sigh he was at ease.  His Dad beside him was making love to the woman beneath him; she seemed to be in her late 20s, short sassy blond hair, nice boobs.  Her head thrashed about and she seemed greatly perplexed but was not saying anything.  Mitchell lay on her—doing her.  His own pants and underwear were at his ankles, the middle seat was laid back and the a/c was on HIGH.  Daddy Mitchell was “gettin’ it on!
	The girl beneath Grant was young, not yet ten.  She was pretty, long blond hair, flat chest, and “dazed.”  Grant pressed his cock against her realizing that his own clothes were at his ankles.  He didn’t remember taking them down—of course, he didn’t remember getting into the SUV, either.
	His fingers were moving but there weren’t his own—er, of his own doing.  Off came the girl’s shirt and camisole.  Grant felt his heart beating and there was a pesky whine in his ears.
	‘keep going, son, you’re doing fine.’
	Grant began to find it hard to think—let alone breathe.
	The young beneath him captivated him—she was pretty; a sweet round face, perfectly straight white teeth, and dazzling blue eyes.  A minute at least did he stare taking the girl in before finally working off her short britches.  Opening her legs he sat back looking at the girl in her powder blue panties.  He began to melt and it didn’t seem to matter no longer that the girl was so young.  He was oblivious to her age and oblivious to his Dad next to him.
	With the girl’s panties off Grant lay on her once more grinding his cock against her soft pussy.  He began to grind against her slit; his mind emptying of whimsy.  All there was was to grind and then—then—THEN penetrate.  It was dire concentration.  He saw the sweet face of his sisters one-two-three and though his Dad wanted him to “do” Cayly—he hadn’t yet.  It was his and Marcia’s plan to have Perry and/or Benjamin do the little girl—then Grant would ultimately “do her.”
	But it wasn’t Cayly he was “doing” but some unknown girl.  His own mind, his own thoughts (and will) had returned.  His Dad was humping away and the woman; her legs were up over his shoulders, her feet on the headboard and Grant realized that he was cumming…

*

It’s a new world, you blockhead
	“Are you alright?”
	“No, you idiot, I fell!”
	And it was a good fall, too; about fifteen feet.  Luckily for Autumn, though, she fell onto something like hay.  It still hurt despite the thickness of the misplaced decaying hay strewn about the depths of the subterranean level.  Boyd checked Autumn over seeing if there were any bones poking thru the skin (fracture.)  There wasn’t and he was glad of that.
	“That was some fall!” Boyd said enthusiastically.
	“I was there.”
	“I wonder what this is?” Boyd stood and looked around but couldn’t see much due to the darkness.
	“Are you guys alright?” shouted down Brianna from above.
	“Oh, yeah—we’re having a party!” Autumn bitched back.
	Boyd had taken the “leap of faith” and jumped down to Autumn to aid her should she need it.  She didn’t need it.  The olding hay was old but thick.
	“Can you climb out or should we go for help?”
	“We’d be in sooooo much trouble if we had to be helped out of here.” Boyd surmised.  “We’d never get to go out of the house again!”
	“Well we’ve got to do something!” Brianna replied, “You cant just stay down there.”
	“Shut up, listen!” Autumn said sharply.  “I hear water running.”

	Prattling around in the near darkness and Boyd found an old rusted lantern, some huge rope, an iron wheel from a mining cart, and then the cart.  As his eyes adjusted he discovered that they were in some sort of cave; it’s exact dimensions were not really known—it was dark!
	But he heard water, too.  Determining exactly where the water was running was another matter.  The closer he got to the end of the cave where it was darkest the more he heard the running water which began to sound like a waterfall.  It was colder at the back of the cave—aka mining staging area; damp, too.
	“Hmm,” said Boyd musing, “this looks odd.”
	“What?” Autumn asked still not moving from the huge pile of decaying hay.
	“Well, there’s this wall, it covered in moss.”
	“What’s odd about that?  Aren’t most caves covered in that stuff?”

	“Not really, I guess so, maybe, I dunno,” Boyd tried to explain (that he didn’t really no—he wasn’t a spelunker but a spewer!) “But there’s no moss anywhere else on the walls.”
	“Be careful.” Autumn warned.
	‘Yeah-yeah-yeah.’  Girls!
	Running his hands thru the moss he found that it was thick, course, and filled with small critters that fluttered away—some were luminous!  The stirring up of moss-dust made Boyd choke and wheeze.  His eyes began to water and nose plugged causing some panic—so much so that he lost his balance and crashed THRU the moss covered wall discovering unknowingly that the moss was a curtain—or a makeshift doorway concealing an adjoining wall opening into a new room.
	“BOYD!” screamed Autumn.
	“What’s going on?” Brianna asked from above.
	“Boyd fell thru a wall I think.”	
	“I’m coming down.” Brianna said flatly.
	“It’s a long ways.” Autumn replied.
	Brianna thought it over and agreed, tugging on Angus they set out to find rope, a ladder, or go hump it and get help.
	Autumn sighed and tried to move—it wasn’t easy.  She called for Boyd but got no answer.  That frightened her and motivated the slightly injured girl to move.  The hay debris had cushioned her fall but the fall was fifteen feet!  It still hurt!
	Boyd struggled to breathe—when he did he found himself on his hands and knees in a slightly more illuminated room but it wasn’t from a vertical shaft.  Dirt and grime coated his eyes and choked his throat.
	“Son (choke-gasp-wheeze) fucking bitch!” he sputtered.  “FUCK!”
	The grit in his eyes remained but he could begin to see better.
	All around him were glowing luminous objects embedded in the cavern wall.  As Boyd got a grip on himself he got a grip on the wall and pulled himself up.  The grit in his eyes was a pain but he saw what seemed to be holes, recess in the rock wall structure.  On the outside of the wall along with more moss were glowing rocks.
	“Boyd?” called out Autumn.
	“In here.”
	Autumn shuffled her way in; limping, smarting, and wondering if she hadn’t broken something after all.
	“Oh gross!” she bitched finding the shroud of moss not to her liking.
	“Whoa!  Shit, check this out!”
	Autumn came in to find Boyd holding in his hands a glowing shard.

	“Where’d you get that?”
	Boyd rolled his shoulder ‘look around you ninny!’
	The shard in his hands turned colors—the most significant was purple-like.  It glowed and gave off a soft light.
	“That’s so pretty!” Autumn declared.
	‘Great.’ said Boyd to himself; girls always find a way to muck up a guy’s perception.  The rock-crystal shard wasn’t “pretty”, it was “neat.”
	Digging out another shard and Boyd made two discoveries:
	In the closest niche in the rock wall was a large object; passing the newly wiggled out glowing shard and Boyd’s breath was taken—a SKULL resided within the niche.  It was a truly hideous and frightening skull, having lots of small holes all over the top of, an elongated jaw, hollow eyes, and sharp teeth!
	The other discovery was,
	“Hey, there’s air moving here!”
	But Boyd was still reeling from the skull in the wall and backed up into Autumn.
	The girl grumbled at being bumped into—“I’m banged up enough as it is!” she complained.  Her attention was on the glowing purple shard in her hands—so much so that she almost missed something.  Toying with the crystal and just after being jostled she noticed that something was moving.  Off from a darkened section of the new cavern room something had come forth.  It stood about seven feet tall and no features could be determined.
	Autumn screamed.
	Boyd whirled around, “WHAT THE FUCK!?”
	Grabbing Autumn he pulled her from the approaching creature.  To Boyd, it was a creature covered in moss and a grayish cloak, like a shroud or something.  There was a cloak/hood, no arms could be seen or feet.  Boyd pulled Autumn back to the wall totally freaking out.
	Autumn grabbed the other shard from Boyd’s hand putting it with the one she had preparing to throw it defensively at the creature.
	“Holy shit, look at that!” Boyd said holding the girl close to him.
	The shards in Autumn’s hand glowed brightly—brighter being together than by themselves.
	The approaching creature suddenly stopped moving.  It seemed like it moved its head up as if it had been looking down—being seven feet tall and everything and –one somewhat smaller the creature had little choice but to look down.  Anyways, it tilted its head up level, the hood fell away and both Autumn and Boyd screamed—the skull Boyd had seen in the niche was the same on the creature!

*

	“Did you hear something?”
	“Sorry, it was probably me.” The boy smiled and waved his hand behind his butt.
	Brianna shook her head, sighed, and stepped a little further away from her farting companion.  
	“I don’t see anything we can use.” Brianna concluded.
	“We’re gonna have to go for help.” Angus contended.
	“Long ways back.” Brianna quipped.  
	“Fuck if it aint hot.” 
	“Maybe we should have gone to the river.” It really wasn’t an option but it was a thought.
	“I gotta pee.” Angus announced suddenly.
	“Thanks for sharing.” Brianna said not watching as the boy blatantly “whipped it out” and began pissing on an old railroad cart.
	Growing concerned for her friends, Brianna stepped towards the hole but caught sight of Angus.  He had finished peeing and was “working it.”  He seemed in agony.
	“You okay?” she asked out of concern.
	“Yeah, I guess.” And he kept working his cock and making grimacing faces indicating some agony.
	“What’s the matter?” she asked trying not to stare at his handiwork.
	“I don’t know, it’s been acting up, being weird.”
	“Maybe you play with it too much.”
	Angus didn’t say anything but actually turned his back to her.
	“Maybe you ought to go to a doctor.”
	Angus didn’t reply just shook his head—then Brianna wasn’t sure but-but was he crying?
	Brianna stood her ground for a couple seconds then stepped up slowly to the still masturbating Angus.
	“It’s everything,” he said struggling to breathe and get out the embarrassing words.
	“Everything, what do you mean?” and she sucked it up and came up to his side.  Angus sucked it up, too, and turned to face her.  His cock was HUGE—kind of purple and a lot bigger than what she normally saw it like.
	“Damn.” she gulped.
	“I-I don’t know what the fuck’s wrong with it.”
	Brianna knew less than that—male anatomy was concentrated to his emotions, his child-like mannerisms, and his cock.

	“It tingles.” Angus told her.
	Brianna found herself staring-staring-staring.
	“Do you—do you—uhm, well, uhm, have you and Autumn,”
	“Not in awhile.” Angus said comprehending what Brianna was trying to say but too embarrassed to blurt out “have you and Fall Girl fucked?”
	“Maybe you need to do that or something.” Brianna suggested.
	Angus shrugged, “She doesn’t like to do it all the time.”
	Brianna understood that, Autumn was a little quirky and didn’t “put out”—not like Brianna herself did.
	One-second—five-seconds—ten-seconds—20-seconds—thirty- seconds—a minute did Brianna stared at Angus and his throbbing hard pre-teen cock.  Sonofabitch if it weren’t a big one!  She shook her head, though; no way could she take him on.  Well, she could but—no.  Not in her pussy, that was reserved for her boy Boyd.  It wasn’t that she was in fear of Angus’ more than average cock invading her pussy—it was loyalty to her beau.
	Then she realized that her pussy was wet and trickling juices down her legs.
	“I think I got to pee, too.” she announced and turned stepping away from sharp rusty pointy things and undone her pants.
	“Why don’t you just take ‘em off and pee standing up,” Angus said, “you know, so’s you wont get poked by anything or anything to crawl on your butt.” The boy began to stammer and a bit of cum squirted from his piss slit.
	Brianna held fast for a moment but then followed with Angus’ suggestion and pushed down her pants and panties then stepped out of them.  Angus worked his magic flute all the more with his hazel eyes staring right at her as she did her business.
	Angus had no choice but to pound his pud all the harder.  He began to drool from his mouth as well as his cock.
	“If Boyd saw you--”
	“Boyd’s not here.” Angus stated factly.
	Brianna stood mostly naked with her legs spread pissing a good piss.  The warm air sort of felt good as she rubbed her ass and coyly fingered her pussy which was also aching.  She and Boyd had had sex just the night before—it had been a quickie and she herself hadn’t gotten much out of it.
	Angus looked like he was in agony.
	She stretched, farted, and ran her hands up and down her fine developing body.  Her piss was done; now she was thirsty as well as horny.  After a swig of water she farted again then contemplated…

*

	It looked like a stick—a creepy stick poking out from about the middle of the gray shrouded creature.  The stick made a horrible sound as it poked its way thru the creature’s cloak; mucus-like membranes resembling cobwebs but the icky kind that were mucus-like were torn as the stick became elongated making it seem like that the cloak/shroud was not of material but mucus!  Ewewe!
	A knob was at the end of the stick, a bulbous knurl if you will.  The stick was not particular thick and it looked like those vines from a tropical forest that climbed up in a sinewy fashion about the great trunks of the forest trees.  The kids were backed up to the wall freaked the fuck out.
	Suddenly, Boyd felt that air current at his backside.  His hands danced on the wall; pulling Autumn with him they side stepped around the cave.  He hoped he could sidestep all the way around to where he had come in; but, no, he found a part of the wall that gave way and they were once more falling.
	Down on their backs down what appeared to be a “slide.”  Similar to basalt, the slide took them almost straight down—backwards, some one hundred feet before dumping them in another similar room from the one above—but it was significantly cooler and more illuminated (with the shard crystals.)
	There were, however, none of the niches with the skulls inside.
	“Well this is fucked up.” Autumn declared.
	“Are you ok?” Boyd asked as he pushed the girl off of him.
	“Yeah, I guess so.”
	If it hadn’t been for the moss also lining the “slide” the friction would have seared their skins right off of them.
	“We’re even DEEPER than before!” cried Autumn.
	“Would you rather stay up there with Creepy?”
	Autumn didn’t answer but tried to stand.
	“This really bites road biscuits.” Boyd said standing up then helping Autumn.  
	“They’ll never find us down here!” wailed Autumn.
	“Aw, sure they will!” Boyd said trying to cheer the distressed girl up, “Just probably take a little time getting enough rope and stuff down to us.”
	“But what about that thing up there?”
	“Details-details,” Boyd said with a wave of his hand, “either Angus will gas him out or Brianna will talk him to death.”

	Boyd collected several of the crystal shards finding that four together was just right without being blinded to provide sufficient light.  Autumn found like shards gave off warmth.
	“Think they are worth anything?” Autumn asked.
	“No telling; might be worth something to someone.”
	There was nothing else to do but wait.  With Autumn hobbling so and favoring her hip it was decided to check it out.  The girl had no qualms about slipping her pants down enough for Boyd to have a looksee.  She turned just so with Boyd holding the light crystals.  There was no bruise, not yet but the area of the hip smarted just the same.
	She sighed and sat down with back against the wall.
	“Do you think it will be a long wait?”
	Boyd shrugged, no idea.  He sat next to the girl sharing the crystals that gave them warmth and soon they eased to sleep.

*

	Sweat rolled off of him in rivers; his mind was virtually obliterated; his balls slapped hard and his cock harder as it drove effortlessly into Brianna Mullens asshole.  Angus Talburt couldn’t help from grinning as he pegged his best friend’s girlfriend ‘what you get for calling me fat!’
	Brianna frigged herself as she was buggered by her boyfriend’s best friend; her pussy seriously ached and not only were there rivers of sweat drenching her there were rivers of pussy juice flowing, too.
	Angus had a grip on her hips and just plowed the road—the Hershey Highway road.  Brianna could scarcely get her breath—she used to think that getting banged in the ass was just for the guy so he could have another conquest.  From what she heard and experienced herself with Boyd, getting poked in the ass wasn’t a big deal and very-very little sexual delight could be derived from it.
	However, Angus’ big cock seemed to have done the trick.
	The boy finally got his nut and blasted a serious hot load of boy cum up her dirt chute.  “SON-OF-A-FUCKING BEYATCH!” the boy cried out.  He kept humping a minute or so longer after the initial blast and subsequent blasts.  Then he pulled out and slapped his very satisfied schlong against the girl’s ass.
	“Does Autumn let you do that?” Brianna asked sheepishly.
	“Not really, she will but it not her fav.”
	Angus farted then peed onto the hole of cum.

	Brianna fingered her still tingling cunt wondering what it would be like to get fucked by Angus’ dick when she heard voices.  Immediately she froze and sat up.  Angus heard them, too.
	The heat was incredible, mostly the humidity was a bitch.  Not a breeze there was; nothing stirred.  The voices were “just down the tracks” carried by the stillness of the air.
	“Hey,” said Brianna, “I know that voice.” She did, too—Hank Herbert, the bully from the Dangnabbit River incident (where he was sadly the only survivor.)
	But he wasn’t alone.
	As Angus slipped on his pants while laying down, still half naked Brianna sneaked the upturned railroad handcart and peeked over.  She gasped as she saw Hank Herbert for sure with Donny Bloke and Bart Crimpson!  Donny and Bart were missing their friend, Kevin—the boy who had drowned at the sunken mine site.
	Brianna flailed an arm behind her in an attempt to grab her pants.  Angus got them for her then helped put them on even as she kept a vigil on the encroaching bullies.
	“Whattya we gonna do?” almost wailed Angus.
	“Get the fuck out of sight.” Brianna told him sharply

	Hank Herbert scratched at his balls, his pants were sloppy and he wore a shirt some sizes too large with no sleeves.  From his sleeveless shirt pocket he produced one of those “funny” cigarettes and lit it up.  Donny stood nearby pissing on the rails of the tracks, scratching his balls, farting, and a little drunk and/or high himself.  Bart Crimpson leaned against one of the many great oaks in the area—masturbating.
	“Guldamn, bitch!” chuckled Hank, “Gettin’ me hard!” and he promptly pulled out his cock from his dark jeans.  A few strokes and after catching Donny eyeing him, “SUCK me, bitch!”
	Donny stumbled some then dropped to his knees before the sixteen year old bully and began sucking him off right then and there.  Bart giggled.
	“What the fuck you gigglin’ at, ‘ho?” bitched Hank, “Git yer fuckin’ ass over here!”
	Bart stumbled nearly tripping coming to be up behind his friend, Bart, and pulled the boy’s pants down.  Then he worked the boy’s john-thomas pressing his stinking-sweaty body against his backside.
	Hank moaned and put his hands behind Bart’s head working the boy into a furious cock suck.  “Shit, bitch, you’re fuckin’ good!”
	Bart said nothing but gobbled-gobbled-gobbled.

	After several minutes of being sucked and reeling in it, bully Hank slapped Bart’s face, “Turn around!” the boy grinned and giggled sporadically, shook his head to try and clear the haze then noted Bart had turned himself around, on his hands and knees.  Donny had his cock in the boy’s mouth and Hank smiled.
	“You fuckin’ faggots!” he said sputtering.  Finishing off the joint he stroked himself, rubbed his ass then peeled himself away from the harsh bark of the tree he had been against.  Then, after slapping his cock against his subordinate’s ass he began making strides of penetration.
	Donny arched his back driving his cock into Bart’s cocksucking mouth.  He, too, rubbed his ass but also ran his hands up and down Bart’s side—he avoided looking directly to Hank’s eyes.
	Not even a yelp, a word, a look back, anything from Bart Crimpson as Hank Herbert shoved his fuck stick into his hole.  The boy kept right on sucking Donny Bloke—sucking-sucking-sucking.  There were cockscucking noises, slurpings, and sounds of cocksucking pleasure from Bart but no sounds of protest.  Hank placed his hands onto his young underling’s ass and began to “tear it up!”
	Donny came.  A great gushing quantity of young teen sperm squirted fully into Bart’s mouth—so much so that Bart had to pull back.  Donny’s cock then went up against his friend’s face for a skull fucking which Bart apparently liked also.
	Bully Hank toked on another joint, choked, then tossed his head about smiling, laughing, and being a little more than just simply stoned.  Nightmares still haunted him—he still heard the voices of his former subordinates, Craig and Allen screaming as they were pulled into the Dangnabbit River at the train bridge.  He never heard the other boy, Tory, who had been mauled by a passing train but saw the gory aftermath.  Hank Herbert had issues.
	The boys prowled around after their sex fest; pants partially pulled up, shirts off, drenched in sweat (and cum).  It was Bart who found the prize behind the upturned railroad cart, “Holy shit, check this out!” and he held up a pair of panties for his buds to see.
	Hank grabbed the undergarment, sniffed the crotch and looked it over with his stoned eyes.
	“Sonofabitch, these are fuckin’ warm!” he exclaimed.
	“That means the fuckin’ owner still around!” said Donny.
	“That’s our cue!” said Brianna to Angus and they dashed to the once hidden mine shaft and dropped down.

*

	“They went down here!” shouted Hank.
	His lackeys came stumbling staring down the hole where two sneaks had snuck.  Donny grabbed up a handsized rock and tossed it down; Bart found a piece of iron steel and chucked it.
	“Go down there and get them!” bellowed Hank.
	Donny, a former bully kicked down the ladder of Bullydom by throwing in with Hank was miffed but obeyed.
	“Go with him!” yelled Hank grabbing Bart by the shoulder and shoving him not so nicely into the mine hole.
	Bart landed squarely onto his friend and both had lay on the decaying hay mound for some time recovering.
	“What the fuck are you two bitches doing down there?” yelled Hank angrily from above.  “You making out or what?” The boy wavered, shook his head to try and clear it, then whipped his dick out and began to pee.
	“Goddamn it!” Donny bitched and rolled out of the stream of pee coming down on him.  Bart sputtered as the stream splashed onto his face.
	“Motherfucker!” he yelled.
	“You fuckin’ say something faggot?” yelled down Hank.
	“Yeah, bitch—come down here and kiss my fuckin’ ass!”
	Hank didn’t come down but kicked over a bunch a dirt and began throwing rocks and railroad iron pieces, and even a tire saying “Git your fuckin’ ass back up here so I can kick it!”
	“Go kick yourself, asshole.” Bart replied having had enough.  Big guff bravado, though—he was in a place he knew his pussy wimp ass bully leader wouldn’t go.
	“Hey, check this out.” Donny said coming up with a find.
	“Hey, what’s that?” Bart asked.  In Donny’s hand was a glowing crystal being about four inches long, two inches wide, being of a geometric design unknown to the two boys who barely made “Ds” in Math.
	“Hey, check this out!” Bart said noting more of the crystals scattered on the floor.  Soon and the boys had a handful of the glowing objects.
	“Sombitch!” said Bart, “We’re fuckin’ rich!”
	Donny was speechless, his young mind couldn’t comprehend the find or what to do with it.
	“Gimmie that!” Shouted Hank and he shoved his two flunkies apart grabbing a handful of the gems.  “What the fuck we got here?” he was angry, pissed, drunk, and high—and asserting his bully persona along, too.

	“We was collectin’ them for you, Hank.” Whimpered Bart.
	“Bullshit you was!” barked Hank.  He fondled each gem-crystal, didn’t really know what to think of it but examined them just the same.
	“Oughta shove these up your fuckin’ asses!” chastised Hank further.
	The chastised boys stood up against the rock wall—eyes filled with fear.
	“What the fuck’s wrong with you?” Hank said, “You fuckin’ look like you’ve seen a ghost!”
	Then Hank turned around.
	A sudden horrid smell suddenly filled the room—like the smell of someone shitting their pants.
	“What the fuck!?” Hank blurted—just before the gray shrouded creature pierced his chest with his elongated “stick-like” arm.
	As petrified as they were—Donny and Bart made a run for it but just then the creature opened his jutting maw and let out a horrific scream causing the fleeing boys to also shit their pants and come to a screeching halt.  The creature’s “arm” that had pierced Hank’s chest went thru the boys as well.
	As the boys gasped for breath the creature was heard to say,
	“Tag, you’re it!”

*

Travels with Dad
	Oh she was cute—no doubt there.  Young, too.  Most little girls who were young were cute.  White, black, Asian, American-Indian, and children from other parts of the world.  When they were young—they were cute.  Some managed to keep their cuteness thru puberty and up to their young adult stage.  That was where Mitchell Braybury drew the line, though; his interest was in the aforementioned “young.”
	Michelle Reevers was young, quite young.  Early grade school young.  Mitchell Braybury didn’t care.  There was some sort of unnatural affinity juxtaposed between lust and desire.  There wasn’t much difference.  The lustful desire Mitchell had (for the young) was overwhelming; he couldn’t stop it; an almost unquenchable thirst for the want of sexual deviancy could not be quelled by simple jacking off or humping his new wife (and her daughters!)  And the happenstance of having a mind altering device didn’t help, either.

	Son, Grant, watched his Dad and it seemed like he was doing so thru a fog.  Nothing else mattered—no sounds, nothing to the right or left and nothing beyond where his Dad and the cute little girl sat.  He saw a bus bench, a small short brick block wall with a ton of flowers in a triangular shaped city flower box.
	The heat didn’t matter.
	Noisy birds, other voices of other peoples about, a bus going by, nothing.  Nothing mattered to interrupt Grant’s tunnel vision.  His focus was solely on his Dad and the little girl.  Mitchell sat right close to the Subject, she was approx. five or maybe six years young.  Cute as a button!  Blond hair to her shoulders, brilliant blue eyes, a sweet chubby little face, and clad in a short-short dress of mixed colors.
	Grant watched with no feelings of aw, disgust, fear, or perplexity as his Dad put his hand on the girl’s exposed thigh.  He began to rub the thigh.  Grant felt at odds—it was wrong what his Dad was doing but then again—he himself wouldn’t mind to see the little girl naked.
	He caught himself.  What?  That wasn’t right.  There was a moral issue here.  But it was being obliterated, washed away, done away with.  The erosion of the moral integrity Grant once had propelled him into acceptance.  Of course, unknowingly to Grant, it was by design (electronical design) instigated by his no-morals Dad.
	Mitchell’s hand went slowly up and down the little girl’s leg, pausing momentarily at her waist.  It was then Grant blanked out.  The foggish tunnel that was there suddenly filled in and he knew not until “awakening” some time later.  He was hot, sweaty, confused, and just a little ill—but there was the little girl again and his Dad.  This time, though, it was not at a bus stop bench but inside the family’s new ride, a custom-conversion semi-camping van.  The “camping” part had been removed; there were plush pile carpeting in some shade of blue; superior captain’s chairs; recessed lighting; security cameras; and the sink w/ cabinet and mini fridge had been retained.
	The little girl was still, eyes were staring, and her cuteness level kicked down a notch as she was no longer smiling.  It was a serious face, a face indicating mindlessness, a take over from an outside source.  Mitchell sat beside her with his pants and underwear at his ankles.  Michelle’s clothes were still on strangely.  Mitchell sat with his cock hard; taking Michelle’s hand he got her to grip his dick and please him.
	Once more there were mixed feelings swarming inside Grant.  It was wrong what his Dad was doing—wasn’t it?  He no longer could be sure; it unnerved him but when it got to the level of high concern he once more found himself nauseated as waves swept his confusion concerns away.

	Slowly did Mitchell bring the little girl across his lap.  Slowly did Mitchell caress her backside and then her butt and legs.  Slowly and did Grant let go his inhibitions about the morality issue; he came forward on his hands and knees and watched still in some sort of unknown funk as his Dad pulled up Michelle’s skirt.
	‘Go ahead, son,” said his Dad calmly inside his head, ‘take her panties down.’
	Grant hesitated a moment but just a moment and then was slowly tugging down the little girl’s undies.  With the underwear down (and off), Daddy Mitchell began smoothing his hand over the child’s ass, squeezing a cheek then digging into the crack.
	‘Take off your clothes, son.’
	It was odd—really very odd, the see himself going thru the motions of undressing, following his Dad’s commands but it was odd.  Odd in that he didn’t really feel himself doing it—it was like—like—like having one of those outer body experiences and floating above the operating table watching the doctors dink with your body.
	There must have been a passage of time ‘cause the next thing Grant knew was he was naked, his Dad was naked, and the little girl was naked.  And Daddy Mitchell musta seen something or become aware of his son’s concerns for into his son’s head:
	‘Be calm, Grant, it’s alright—listen, she’s not aware of what’s happening.’
	What?
	‘She wont know a thing that’s happened to her.’
	So, that made it alright?  Grant was still concerned but his concerns were lessoned by his Dad and his words (along with another increase from the electronic gadget to decrease Grant’s trepidation.)
	‘Get behind her,” Mitchell mind-linked to his son, ‘prep her.’
	Grant paused a moment, but like he had done with his sisters Marcia and Jannifer, he got behind Michelle and proceeded to lick her crack—specifically her asshole.  
	After several minutes of tongue lashing the girl’s hole and crack,
	‘Ready?’ Mitchell asked.
	“Yes, sir.” Grant replied.
	‘Lube up.’
	Grant was handed some cock lubricating cream and he applied a small amount to the girl’s hole.  The girl herself was sucking away on Mitchell’s cock and he was reeling in it.  He reeled more when son Grant made penetration to the girl’s ass.

	Michelle was not the first—nor the last.
	Young Grant didn’t know what to think—and there was no thinking to be had!  His concerns and confusion had not been all that eroded but if he dwelled on them for too long—then he experienced a passage of time he couldn’t account for.
	Case in point—
	His last remembrance was stuffing his pud into little Michelle Reevers.  He had cum.  His Dad had cum off in the little girl’s mouth and as Grant sat back massaging his aching tool his Dad pulled little Michelle up onto his lap, turned her about and began furiously fingering her delicate little pussy.  Grant could only stare at the little girl’s cunt with a battle raging in his mind—part of him detested the act his Dad was doing and somehow making him a part of it.  Another part wanted to squirt his cum all over the little girl’s pussy, shove his fuck stick into her dick trench and have at it.
	The next thing he knew that he was firstly licking on the girl’s pussy.
	Then—THEN there was his Dad’s dick laying hard right there, too.
	‘Suck me, son, suck my cock.’
	In an earlier incident a memory flash exploded into his mind just at that incidence—at home, the new home, he had been conscripted into sodomizing his brother Perry while Perry sucked on their youngest sib, Ben.  But that wasn’t all—
	As Grant fucked his brother’s ass, his Dad fucked him!

	After Michelle another girl replaced her—this girl was at least a little older.  She was small in body size, dark-raven dark hair, very tan, and Chinese!  Where or how she had been “acquired” wasn’t known, not to Grant.  They were in the new van and Michelle was still with them.  Daddy Mitchell sat on a velour bench cushion up alongside the non-door wall.  There he patted the new girl’s butt—she wore a long tube-like dress, blue with white daisies down to her knees with a white ribbed long sleeved shirt (the dress was sleeveless.)
	Like the girl before her, Min was still and near lifeless indicating a state of mindlessness.  Mitchell slowly pulled the dress up—and then off.  The van’s secondary a/c unit was on ‘cause it was like way over a hundred degrees outside.  A dark curtain partition separated the cabin area from the cargo/passenger area.  Grant didn’t remember right off when the van came to be in the family but there it was.  Most people got a van for camping, traveling, bigger than a car, nostalgia, make-out central without prying eyes.  Mitchell Braybury got a van for reasons other than…

	With the dress off, Min Su wore basic white undies and nothing else.  Mitchell expertly rolled the girl’s undies down and despite his qualms, Grant got hard.  There was still a debate raging within him but it was less irritating and less interfering with his thoughts of naughtiness.  He helped steady the girl and slip her panties off her ankles rendering her stark naked.
	Mitchell was naked and masturbated while the new girl stood between his legs.  She was quiet, calm, and apparently completely unawares of what was going on about her.  That was what sold Grant—he guessed at length that it was alright to do whatever to the Subject—so long as she was not aware of what was happening (to her.)
	And what happened to Min Su was she was bent over to start sucking on Grant’s cock while Daddy Mitchell behind enjoyed her ass.  A patting, making small circles, dragging his cock all over the checks and up and then down the crack.  He was pleased.  Greatly.

	Eleven year old Hanna Bobanna was next.  She was a cowgirl, light blue jeans, boots, cowgirl shirt, and straw hat.  She had an amazing face, simply-fucking-amazing!  That smile, those brown eyes--that smile!  For her age (11) she was amazing.
	Mitchell moved his hands up and down her body; Grant eyed her with a surprising raging boner growing with intense desire.  It was little doubt that she was a virgin.  He took her in with his eyes marveling at how she was different than his sister, Janiffer although they were the same age.  It made his cock ache.
	The ache was satiated when she was bent over and via mindlink from Mitchell and his amazing electronic device and proceeded to suck him.  She did make a face and retch some indicating that she was not fully under the guise of the Device.  Daddy Mitchell caressed her and stroked his schlong, patting the girl’s butt harder.
	Grant moaned and though a cock suck was good—his cock was aching and needed to be in one of the girl’s other two holes, preferably her pussy.  The girl was still clothed—but not for long.  She was at length stood up and Grant gleefully undone her pants tugging them down.
	Lavender colored panties the girl had on.  Nice.  Bikini style.  Real nice.  Tugging the undies down and there was some powder at the crotch, rose petals in the rear area.  Neat!  A slight coverage of pubes was there, too; just enough to count.  The pussy itself was soft, alluring, smooth, and unfucked.
	But not for long.

	The girl was quickly made naked; Grant’s cock was beginning to spurt right then and there.  Mitchell brought the girl down onto his lap almost piercing her but merely having his cock go up against her unfucked cunt; his hands then went up and down her body, squeezing her nice breasts that most girls her age were having nowadays.  
	Once more Grant felt “pulled” to the girl and his Dad’s pronounced cock.  He sucked the throbbing erection, licked on Hanna’s unfucked cunt, sucked on her titties then positioned himself against the girl for some “rubbing.”
	The girl seemed to be “aware” but unable to do anything but bulge her eyes in shock, fear, dismay, and awe.  She blinked her eyes and created more debate within Grant.  But sexual deviancy won out and he plunged his cock into the girl’s quim shutting up his moral dilemma.  Mitchell’s cock was successfully up into the girl’s asshole which was, by the way, not virginal.

	He felt a little sick to the stomach—he hated that feeling.  He felt hot, nauseated, dizzy, and a general feeling of being unwell.  Confusion was for the most part the cause of his ills and just when he came to realize the battling cause of those ills—the morality issue, he heard his Dad’s voice calming him.  It wasn’t long before he began to learn to control his battling thoughts.   Sure torment, though, ravaged his mind.  He did—and didn’t—want to participate in the immoral shenanigans perpetrated by his Dad.  There was no making sense of it—there was only to go along with it and hope for a break of some kind.
	There was the realization that what his Dad was doing was wrong.  That was a beginning.  There was, too, the realization that his participation with his Dad was wrong but he was being led by his Dad.  And Grant, also, knew that once he was participating—there was no going back.  He enjoyed the sex with the girls (and his mind was somewhat obliterated those times he sucked is Dad’s cock and got fucked in the ass by his Dad’s cock.)
	His next-new recollection was seeing a girl with her pants and panties already at her ankles laying across the lap of his Dad.  Her blue short sleeved ruffled shirt was pulled up and she was no more then ten years young.  Grant was naked as was his Dad.  The girl, Stephanie, was being spanked.  Not too hard but enough to turn her pert little ass a nice shade of tomato red.
	‘Grease up, son.’ Mitchell told his son via the mindlink method.
	Grant felt overwhelming compelled to follow his Dad’s commands and greased up his schlong with anal lube then positioned himself behind the tormented young girl.  She was pretty; brown hair in twin braids; blue eyes, blue accents of plastic braids and ribbons; and naïve to curious.

	Grant’s cock was throbbingly hard and after applying a little lube to the girl’s asshole he began making entry.  Mitchell held the girl’s cheeks open and Grant poked the virgin pooter.  Overwhelming desire filled Grant and all there was was to make entry.  Little Michelle twisted her young body and got spanked for it.
	‘Keep going, son.’ cooed Mitchell.  Grant nodded but it was a struggle to breech such a young virgin hole—lubed up or not.  The sweat rivered on his body; a wave of sickness filled his head but determination to make full anal entry was more pressing.
	More time making the entry than there was fucking but Grant eventually got the head of his pulsing prong into the girl’s hole and thereafter there was no stopping.  He had to pause with every half inch allowing the anal muscle to accept the invasion.  Once all the way in he pulled most of the way out then plunged back in and repeated the process until it was easier to do so.
	The girl made cries of anguish—she was mostly aware of what was happening and not all that effected any longer by any means electronical or otherwise.  But that wasn’t to say she was constrained to mind and therefore endure what was happening to her.  As Grant finished with his fucking, subsequently cumming—he noted that Michelle, Min Su, and Hanna were still in the van, too.

	And it appeared, too, that Mitchell Braybury was an equal opportunist.  Grant stared and stared and stared some more; before him stood a boy, about a year younger than himself, already unclothed.  Inasmuch as Grant was perplexed with the doings of Michelle, Min, Hanna, and Stephanie, here comes along a boy!
	But already Grant was slurping on his brothers, Perry and Ben—and they him.  Already Grant was cocksucking his Dad’s dick.  Already he was sodomizing his brothers—and they him.  Already he was getting fucked in the ass (and mind) by his Dad.
	Twelve year old Allen Barry seemed oblivious to what was happening to him—mindless.  
	‘Suck his cock, son.’ came the words from Mitchell’s mind.
	Grant licked his lips and moved to the boy, merely leaning in and taking the flaccid penis of Allen Barry to his mouth and sucking it.  Mitchell caressed the mindless boy’s sides, fondled his balls, and caressed his own son’s face and shoulders.
	When Allen’s pud grew to sufficient stiffness—

	‘Come on up,’ Mitchell minded to his son, ‘mount him.’
	Grant obeyed—he had little choice.  He did note as he settled down on Allen’s schlong that Hanna sat nakedly in a corner with eyes and mouth wide.  It embarrassed Grant and he looked away concentrating on taking Allen’s cock into his ass.
	Once seated, it was Grant who had to make the motion of going up and down.  Mitchell’s cock was up into the mindless boy’s ass himself.  As Grant sodomized himself he noted the look on the boy’s face; he was somewhat conscious of what was going on but most of that awareness was blocked.
	Allen made faces, he grunted and indicated strongly that he was very aware of being raped.  There was confusion, too, as the boy also was receiving pleasure—stemming from his cock rammed up a hole.  At the time, it mattered little that his cock was fucking a boy hole—the pleasure was the same whether it be a girl’s hole or his hand.
	Finally the boy unloaded a heaping shot of pre-teen cum some inches into Grant’s hole.  Grant’s own pud was cumming, squirting gobs up the naked boy’s chest.  Mitchell, too, was shooting his man cum DEEP into Allen’s ass.
	Everything faded thereafter.  Grant’s next awakening was at home, naked in bed with his new Mom.  Had it been a dream?  Had what occurred in the van been a dream?  Tough call.  He couldn’t recall.  The images of the girls, Allen, the van, his Dad, all were so real in his mind.  Confusion reigned supreme once more.
	Then,
	After laying there in repose for few minutes Grant got up and made for the hall bathroom.  His Mom was asleep and it was all quiet in the new house.  A fog of confusion continued to plague him but as he showered that fog lifted and he concluded that he had dreamed it all up.  He further concluded that he had drempt up what had had happened due to the fact of what was happening in the new home with his siblings—and new Mom.  His mind had gone to work overtime and put together a fantasy filled with immoral turpitude most high.  That was the only logical explanation.
	Stepping out of the shower and there was Marcia.  Naked.
	She WAS pretty, and soon to be thirteen.  Her breasts were lovely, her body was curving nicely and she was blossoming into a very lovely young girl.
	“Hi!” Grant said somewhat sheepishly.  Despite all the times he had boned his sister, despite the near constantly going about naked, he still felt bashful and couldn’t shake no matter what.

	“Hi.” she replied.  She yawned, stretched, and smiled to him and watched him casually as he dried himself off.
	“Just wake up?” Grant asked.
	“Yeah, a little nap.” then, “I had the weirdest dream.”
	“Yeah?”
	“It was so weird that I lay in bed just thinking about how weird it was.”
	“What was it that made it so weird?”
	“Well,” she proceeded to tell him, “I was with Dad, in the van, and we were going out about town picking up boys!”
	Oh shit!’
	Grant batted his eyes, what was she saying?
	“Yeah,” Marcia continued somewhat chuckling, “young boys, too, Perry and even Benjamin’s age—and boys about your age, AND a girl!”
	This was more than a coincidence.  Something dreadfully was wrong.  Or was it?  Grant was confounded—what was going on?