August Moone
Book 8
Chapter Forty-Seven
Forest stories

What happens in the woods—stays in the woods
	Camping in the woods was just the thing and the two young girls with their grandfather seemed to be enjoying themselves quite well.  The campsite chosen was one that was close to a spring; wonderfully scented trees surrounded the semi remote campsite.  There was a campfire pit with an iron grate, a picnic table that was well-well weathered.  Nothing else.  No “facilities”, no running water, no phones—no traffic lights; not a single luxury!
	Perfect.
	There were other remote campsites—but not close.  There, too, were some cabins—also not close.  The way into the campsite was by way of a woodsy dirt road riddled with ruts, water, rocks, and logs.  Jon Sabast had come in with his granddaughters via a three-wheel motorcycle.  The bike towed a small tear-drop trailer that would serve as their shelter if the weather should turn badly.
	It was the Fall of the year so the air was a little nippy (at night); during the day; however, it was nice and warm.  Not enough warmth to go swimming, but the kids enjoyed traipsing across the ankle deep creek just the same.
	Frolic!  Frolic!  Frolic!
	Jon Sabast had come wearing a black biker’s vest; it had a few patches adorning it along with a big white emblem displaying the fact that the aged motorcycle rider was a “Christian”.
	Humph!
	After a day of frolicking, exploring the area (of which was basically a check by Jon to see if there were any neighbors) the family returned to their remote campsite and got a campfire going.
	Typical fare for a campfire—marshmallows and wieners.
	There were songs, jokes, and good joshing of one another.
	Then,
	Jon stood, stretched, and plucked up his youngest granddaughter, Bonnie.  She was barely eight years young.  The tyke was a little sleepy; she hugged her whiskered grandpa and he hugged her—and patted her lovely childish behind.

	Bonnie snuggled her head into Jon’s neck and Jon continued to pat-pat-pat.  Then, then his patting became caressing and the caressing segued into “exploring.”  Normally when Jon had “explored” his young granddaughter she had protested “don’t do that, grandpa!” or “I don’t like that, grandpa!” for eight years young she was very wise and in defense of her body regardless of who she was with.
	But Jon was determined—and with a little thing called an EMAD he would have his way!  The little Device was “little”, hand/palm size with hardly any functionality whatsoever other than to “stun” a Subject’s mind.  Caroline, though, his eleven year old granddaughter, didn’t have to have her mind stunned into submission—she was apparently naughty on her own!
	When a Subject’s mind was “stunned” there came the opportunity to insert “suggestions.”  Whether or not Jon had “suggested” suggestions to Caroline was not clear.  While Jon held the sleepy Bonnie, Caroline dropped to her knees and fished out her Grandpa’s cock!
	She did!
	She worked the cock in her hand—it was already significantly hard.  Then she kissed it before engulfing it.  Jon squeezed Bonnie—then slipped his hand inside her pants.  His cock in Caroline’s mouth stiffened all the more and was in fact jutting bits of cum.  Didn’t seem to bother the girl none, she masturbated her Grandpa’s cock all the more seemingly trying to jack out all the cum possible.
	Meanwhile, Jon had undone Bonnie’s pants and worked them off.  He seemed somewhat oblivious to the fact that he was ejaculating into Caroline’s mouth—his attention was on his hand to Bonnie’s bare ass.  A dream cum true.  He took the time to revel in the misdeed, cupping the child’s ass, squeezing the soft flesh, and just holding her.
	Of course, that only lasted “awhile” and his tenacious appetite for sexual bliss at the expense of his granddaughters prompted him and goaded him onward.  Bonnie’s panties were slipped off along with her shirt.  She was nude.  On her knees, Caroline had Jon’s cock out against her face and that cock was still spurting jiz all over.
	Slowly, Jon made way over to the remade teardrop trailer and put little Bonnie within.  On HIS knees he parted Bonnie’s legs and “went down” on her licking her little virgin cunny to his delight.	
	“Take off your clothes.” Jon said.  Caroline undressed herself and it still wasn’t clear if she was acting on her own or acting to subliminal messages.

	In an effort to reach lofty sexual deviant goals and satiate his unnatural desires (to have sexual deviant desires with his grandchildren), Jon not only “went down” on little Bonnie but preformed a “hicky”.  She was a small thing, though eight, she had the body of a six year old!  Jon was highly enthused and devoured the tyke’s snatch completely driving his tongue into her little crevice.
	Meanwhile, Caroline climbed into the small trailer and whether on her own or by coercion settled onto her sister’s face her own face facing out of the trailer.  Jon looked up to see his Caroline’s ass and he fingered her hole; his cock growing all the stiffer.
	When he had done all that he could do to Bonnie, Jon climbed into the small-small trailer and though it was cramped and difficult to maneuver, Jon managed to get his throbbing hard cock not up against Caroline’s ass but IN it, too!
	When after a few minutes later and a gusher load of fresh hot spunk was spewing—some of the spillage came out to drizzling onto sweet sleeping Bonnie.  Jon was exhausted—but very-very satisfied.

*

Campsite Number Four
	Four teenagers who had packed in; smoking beer and drinking marijuana.  One girl; three stoned male companions.  They were too stoned to do anything but continue getting stoned.

Campsite Number Seven
	Two men, two young girls.  This was more interesting; although the previous campsite was entertaining, the two men with the two girls was “interesting.”
	Campsite Number Seven was one of twelve “remote” sites along Green Creek in Bullchurn Woods.  Odd numbered sites were right up against the creek and that was where primary characters Paul Namereker was fishing with Gee Nurbherder.  Paul was some years older than Gee; Gee the son of a friend of Paul.  There seemed to be good rapport between the two; while they fished they drank beer and chuckled at whatever they talked about.
	The two girls of Paul’s roamed about the campsite’s outer area, just checking things out—peeing and so on.  Annette was the oldest girl; long silky brown hair, long legs, and a nice set of titties.  She was twelve and four months from being thirteen.

	Chrissy had long silky blond hair, green eyes, and a nice-nice body for a girl of ten.  She was way more cheerful than her sister, more outgoing, tomboyish; Annette was more reserved, serious, and not so tomboyish.  She also had a nice bod and on more than once did her Dad give that “nice bod” a nice long look (when he could safely get away with it.)
	And “getting away with it” was to take a step up albeit thanks to family friend, Gee.  After fishing and coming up empty, the two men got a fire going and made the evening meal cowboy style; beans in a big black pot, cornbread, and cherry pie—all from cast iron pots and skillets.
	After dinner there was singing with Paul playing a guitar; the girls sang camp songs while Gee played along with a harmonica.  All seemed perfectly normal.  Well, you know what they say about “perfectly normal”…

	The girls showed signs of getting ready for their tent—which was a perfect time for Gee to “whip it out” on them.  Annette sat in a camp chair close to the flickering fire in the fire pit nodding off.  Chrissy sat on her Dad’s lap pretty much asleep.  Slowly, Gee stood at the old weathered picnic table fiddling with a small handheld object similar to a television’s remote control.
	A minute went by—then another—then another.
	“Well?” asked Paul.
	“Almost—in a minute.”
	Paul stretched, farted, and copped a feel of his young daughter’s ass.  She was pretty much sound to sleep and not aware of the feel job.  Another minute passed and Paul had slipped his hand down inside Chrissy’s not-too-tight yellow shorts.  With the girl right on his lap he very slowly and with caution began working the girl against his hardened manhood.
	Annette was sound to sleep in her chair.
	“Anything?” Paul whispered to Gee.
	“Almost.”  Like many Users of illegal minding devices, he didn’t have a full grasp of the operation know-how of the Device.  Paul nodded and went on with his own business until Gee was ready.
	And it didn’t take long (thankfully.)
	“Got it!” Gee exclaimed.
	Paul had it, too—without the electronic minding device.
	But with the electronic minding device—little Chrissy was easier to deal with—er, easier to strip off her clothes.  Being a little cool outside the group made way into the tent they shared.  It was big enough but a little cramped and was supposed to be just for the girls and their Mother who was coming up later with their brother, too.

	Paul laid Chrissy down onto her designated sleeping bag; his cock was out of his pants and “soiled” a little already.  Chrissy yellow shorts had already been removed.  Gee got the propane lantern going then he went out to get Annette.
	When Gee returned bringing Annette in—Paul had Chrissy naked and was using her hand to masturbate him.  Annette was “drunk-like” and very easy to deal with—Chrissy was in a deep sleep mode.  Gee watched Paul for a minute or so then began undressing Annette.
	With Annette topless, Paul was grind-grind-grinding away on little Chrissy.  The cad!  Gee groped Annette’s breasts and grinned big as Paul began gouging his manhood against his daughter’s sweet innocent pussy.  Gee himself was highly aroused and went ahead getting Annette naked.  He did pause a moment when he got the girl’s pants off and there she was clad in just her panties—green in color.  Letting out a moan he indicated his satisfaction and then stripped off his own clothing.
	It was pretty warm in the small dome tent—the propane lantern gave off sufficient heat and the two naughty-naughty-oh-so-naughty men were naked and doing naughty-naughty-oh-so-naughty things!  Annette was not a virgin—both Gee and Paul were semi expert on knowing how to determine a pussy’s virginity status.  Chrissy was a virgin—but not an anal virgin.
	Paul surmised that PJ, his son, might have buggerd the girl.  Checking the anal-virgin status of Annette, though, resulted in limited findings.  Assumptions ran, though, that she and PJ might have probably had sex the normal incestuous way.
	Paul wasn’t mad about the discovery—just intrigued.
	A great gob of cum lay on Chrissy’s cunt.  Paul gouged and gouged but worried about penetration,
	“You sure she wont know—afterward?”
	Gee nodded, there was no way the girl would know that it was her Dad who breeched her young virgin cunny.  She WOULD know that she had been breached—that was a given.  The pretty ten year old would undoubtedly have a sore-sore aching-aching pussy.  But, Gee thought he might be able to circumvent that, too; along with the mind wipe he would do before releasing the girl’s mind back to her own self it was possible to disable the knowing of the sore-aching pussy.
	Well, it was a thought anyways.

	Paul checked Annette—and though she was older and could take his manhood his unnatural desire was still for his youngest.  When Gee lifted Annette’s legs, parting the cheeks to check the girl’s asshole virgin condition—Daddy Paul could serious wood and yet even MORE cum squirted on Chrissy’s pussy!
	Paul seemed to have no compunction with Gee as the young man laid on top of Annette.  While he continued to gouge his cock into Chrissy’s pussy, he watched with sadistic glee as Gee worked himself into Annette’s sex.  Annette knew nothing of it and continued to “sleep.”  Gee eased part way into the girl’s cunt, pulled out to hump the gash then went back in to sink himself in a little more.  He spent time, too, groping her breasts.
	By the time Gee was fucking and subsequently cumming off, Paul had also fucked and cum.  It was a slow and methodical process one taking all of his concentration.  He was utterly exhausted by the time he finally released his liquid love.  Beside him and Gee fully enjoyed the joys of fucking Annette and had come to lay beside her “spooning.”

	In the morning—the truth of the matter of the EMAD’s abilities (and Gee’s abilities of understanding the EMAD’s abilities) came to light.  The girls awoke (dressed) and went off to do their morning ritual business.  When they returned for breakfast they seemed none the wise for their bodies being violated.
	A few hours later and Paul’s wife, Linda, arrived with son, Paul Jr.
	Gee’s EMAD didn’t have a lot of frills, in fact, it was limited to only blanking the Subject’s mind—so, it was not known what part Paul Jr. played in any sexual mishaps with his sister(s).  However, a little spying on his part (and Helga Heely’s) and the truth was known.
	Not long after PJ and his Mother had arrived and he was off exploring the areas—accompanied by his usually pesky sisters.  There was a conversation between them but it wasn’t known what exactly was said.  Once a little ways from camp, across the creek and over a small woodsy hill, PJ stopped to “whip it out” and pee.
	Little sis Chrissy undone her pants and squatted.
	Annette didn’t have to go and stood watching her brother.  When Chrissy had finished she stood and stepped away from her small puddle holding her clothes up; PJ stepped up to her waggling his cock.  The pretty ten year old giggled and with one hand still holding her turquoise britches up she stretched out her other hand and masturbated her brother’s offering.

	Annette watched and turned around looking around for security check.  PJ checked her and seemed to convey something causing Annette to look around all the more intently.  Biting her lip thoughtfully she undone her pants, pulled off her shirt, and became lovingly naked.
 	PJ’s cock was seriously hard in Chrissy’s hand and it pleased him.  Seeing sister Annette naked pleased him more.  The boy stripped off his own clothing; Annette laid out on her clothing, legs open, fingering herself.  PJ’s rocket just about exploded.  Chrissy giggled and squatted beside her sister naked.  PJ gave no security check but positioned himself on Annette driving his thrust monster into her sex with no foreplay whatsoever!
	Annette thrashed her head side to side, arched her back, moaned and groaned; PJ jabbed his thirteen year old cock into his twelve year old sister’s pussy.  Chrissy fingered her sex, giggled, and watched her brother’s antics finally coming to sit on her sister’s face.  Annette licked Chrissy’s bald poon and PJ fucked all the harder.

	Meanwhile,
	With the kids gone—and knowing full well what they were probably doing, Gee got the nod “go ahead” from Paul Sr. and zapped Linda’s mind.  She was a tall woman, not bad looking, but was not all that friendly.  Gee had known her for some time and quickly had assessed the fact that the woman was “non-friendly.”  She laughed, was socialable, but didn’t go out of her way to be friendly.
	Paul was a womanizer.  He was a high paid welder for an oil company, had his own welding rig, told everyone the house he and his family were in he was buying—but that was a big lie ‘cause he was actually just renting.  Paul was a big time boozer, too; Gee’s Dad and Paul were boozers, along with Paul’s two brothers.
	After Linda’s mind was frapped, Paul got the woman naked and preferred her mind to be frapped.  She was a bit of a bitch and there were lots of fights/arguments between the two.  Once she was nude, Paul took a moment just to stare at her.  Her pussy was not so trimmed; she was kind of sexy but not sexually thrilling or gave sex as much as Paul would like.
	She “used” to give head and “used” to “take it in the ass” according to Paul.  When the sex began to become stale or “less thrilling”, Paul began dipping his wick into pussy that wasn’t his but was more thrilling and willing.

	Gee checked the woman, then checked security.
	Paul positioned his wife at the picnic table, paused, then landed a smack to her ass.  He always wanted to.  Another smack followed and Gee was getting hard.  Linda gave no indication of “awareness” and Paul laid into her some more bringing his wife’s ass to a nice shade of red to her bare ass.

	In the woods,
	On her hands and knees with her sister ‘neath her, Chrissy got fucked from behind by her brother.  Sister Annette licked Chrissy’s pussy as well as latched onto her brother’s swinging nuggets.  Chrissy also went down on her sister and licked her.  
	When after PJ got his rocks off (again) he pulled out, slapped/spanked his sister’s ass with his soiled schlong, then sat back to watch his sisters sixty-nine.  Then the trio of naughty siblings collected their clothing and went to a pond to skinny dip.
	Back at the camp and Paul was driving his cock DEEP into his wife’s asshole and still spanking her while Gee was getting off in her mouth!

	Later on that night,
	While Paul Sr. schlepped his salami into daughter Annette, family friend, Gee, schlepped his salami into Chrissy.  When after Paul had cum and cum and cum in Annette, he lay on her groping and sucking on her breasts, fingering her cum sopping wet cunt.  Gee had cum and afterwards rolled the young girl over to spank her ass.  Paul liked but it would take a little more enthusiasm to get his cock hard again.

Campsite Werthaheckahwee
	She wasn’t too tall, about five foot eight; fairly slim/slender (but with a nice-nice butt.)  A good smile, excellent posture, tight clothes.  Bouncy brown hair to her shoulders; brown eyes, small-small cantaloupe-like titties.  Her actions and style of mannerisms made her to be a strict person; she was more than “well mannered”; it was the way she was reared and her professional-private schooling.
	She was Veronicas Moonchase; thirty-five, divorced, private school teacher and artist.  At the campsite #11 with a small access road to a equally small five car limit dirt parking lot, Veronica was in charge of several pint sized children, average age being ten.  One large dome tent had been constructed, a fire was in the campfire, the picnic table was full of various sized ice chests; there was a guitar, fishing poles, and backpacks.

	The small horde (of children) raced about the campsite, darting into the woods, out to the parking lot (where there was on one car) and all over the place being scolded b Veronica more than once.  Finally enough and Veronica halted the children in their play taking twelve year old son, Ryan to the table where she had him take down his gray corduroys AND underwear.  Then he bent over taking holt of the picnic table bench to receive a hearty bare hand spank from his Mom—in the presence of all the other children.
	The girls, Rachael, Heather, Donna, and Jody, giggled, were in awe, and twisted being embarrassed at what they were witness to.  The other boy, Freddy, watched in just awe—expressionless.  
	Five semi hard swats to Ryan’s lily white ass.  afterwards, the boy had to stand up straight and recite some Bible passages (and not be allowed to rub his burning ass!)  Veronica continued to scold him about running amok in camp when she told him not to.
	The boy remained at the table, pants and underwear still at his ankles, ass still red, hands clenched at his sides still reciting Bible scripture while his Mom went to confront the others and chastise them, also.  When Rachael, her nine year old daughter protested and proclaimed that they were “just playing” and “you never let us play!” she was jerked to the table alongside her brother…
	One smack!  Two smack!  Three smack!  Four smack!  FIVE smack!
	The girl’s short blue pants and red panties were at her ankles and stern/strict Veronica Moonchase landed one after another bare hand to bare ass smack.  The girl, like her brother, had to stand up straight and recite Biblical teachings all the while being scolded.
	The other children, family friends’ children, rubbed and squeezed their own butts and stared at Ryan and Rachael.  But being family friends it was a given that they probably already knew about the strict mother.  Probably.
	After Veronica had been assured that her misbehaving children would for the remainder of their camping experience “behave”, they were allowed to pull up their clothes.  The two Moonchase children then scurried off with the others but a lot less enthused about the camping experience.  Veronica fussed about the picnic table and set about preparing the evening meal.
	The children did seem to behave; sort of.  Between the parking lot and the 1rst campsite there were rocks, boulders, a huge ranger sign post, and lots of overgrowth.  There were a “few “ campsite dotting the area, five of them.  None were close and only the 1rst one was occupied.

	Anyways, the children were on the other side of the car, a trendy modern day foreign wagon with an equally trendy roof mount carry all.  Behind the car, Ryan pulled down his pants and underwear and let everyone see his butt—it was still a little red.  Rachael didn’t show her butt to the other—just to her brother when the other children ran amok chasing a bug.
	Ryan stared at his sister as she stood behind the car, stooped over, pants and undies pulled down just enough to reveal her ass—an ass that was still very much reddened from the beating.
	Suddenly, the spying Helga witnessed the timid boy who gave strange looks to just about all he saw, stretch out his hand and touch his sister’s still inflamed ass.  The girl looked over her shoulder and watched but did not freak out or do anything other than watch.
	Ryan smoothed his hand all over his sister’s butt before stepping up and taking his pants and underwear down to his ankles.  His penis was only partly hard—and he answered aloud “Yes.”  To wit Helga got very curious and searched the surrounding area—she had a feeling something wasn’t right.
	The other children began rushing back to the car causing Ryan and Rachael to pull up their clothes.  The two then returned to themselves and joined the others chasing after a rather large moth.  Meanwhile, at the campsite—
	
	Veronica Moonchase fussed about seemingly talking to herself; as she fussed about the table it was clear that she had a compulsive problem—everything had to be in the right place.  And even after setting something in place she continued to adjust its place minutely.
	Suddenly she stood bolt upright abruptly.
	Helga stared and stared—staring at the woman as well as intently the immediate area around her.  Being a former EMAD user, Helga felt that something electronically was at hand.
	And she was right.
	Just inside some bushes juxtaposed ‘tween two very large boulders was a man with a elongated television-like remote controller in hand.  No description from Helga vantage point—she would have to risk getting closer.
	Veronica stood shaking her head but was no match for the overwhelming mind altering device.  The woman braced the picnic table, made some sort of audible defiance—then undone her tight pants and pushed them down.
	Helga smiled and began fingering her self…

	By the time to children all rushed back to the campsite for the evening meal—they all stopped in their tracks staring bug eyed at the woman who stood in the middle of the campsite—naked.  Mouths were wide open, dropped to the ground, minds in disbelief.
	Then, Ryan stepped up close to his Mother who didn’t acknowledge his presence—or anyone elses.  The naked woman just stared out to the parking lot and beyond.  Ryan then began undressing himself.  His sister and their friends continued to be overwhelming stunned.  And when Ryan and pulled off his underwear and stood stark naked—sister Rachael stepped up beside her sister and undressed herself, too.
	Heather Notitts came up after Rachael was naked; Donna Pharts and Jody Zo followed.  Each ten year old girl stripped off all of their clothes and stood still afterwards.  No protests, no hesitations, no whimpering or any display of emotions whatsoever.
	Freddy Greebs, also ten years young, stepped up lastly and undressed.
	Then,
	Veronica reached out for her son’s twelve year old pud, grasped it, and began tugging on it.  The boy stared at his Mother’s small cantaloupe sized breasts, mouth open, eyes staring oddly in awe and stupor.
	After a couple of minutes of serious tugging, Veronica lowered herelf to her knees.  None of the other children paid any attention; none of them were “aware.”  And after Veronica had tugged her son’s pud to a wondrous hard-on, she sucked it.
	She did!
	Helga fingered-fingered-fingered herself and yearned to be getting laid.  She wanted to suck the boy’s cock—she wanted to suck that man, Rain, too.  And her Dad—despite all, she wanted his cock in her mouth—then slamming into her pussy and then in her ass.
	She thought of Kim and Phoebe.
	She thought of her Mother.
	The self pleasuring ceased and emotions consumed her.  She had really fouled things up.  But there was just no explanation—and the way her Dad had looked at her—it was more than just simple disbelief.  He saw the EMAD and knew that he had been duped.  But he hadn’t, but Helga couldn’t explain that to him—especially with her Mom standing there in a “busting” mode.
	There was just no way to explain it.  None.  Her Dad would always believe that the minding device had coerced him into having sexual improprieties with his daughter.  And Miriam would surely believe it no matter what.

	After sucking her son’s cock for a couple of minutes the woman began tugging on the cock of ten year old family friend, Fred.  The boy had dark hair that hung loosely into his face; one gold small earring in his left ear; kind of tan all over—ALL over; a few scars, welts, bruises on his tender naked body; and one testicle! 
	After tugging and sucking the boys, Veronica cleared a spot on the table she had just been fussing over and laid out width wise, legs spread open wide.  Ryan got first dibs and crawled up onto her assuming the position.  No foreplay on his part.  Semi expertly the boy guided his cock into his Mom’s cunt and proceeded with the fucking.  Spying Helga had excellent view as she was directly right-right behind the scene secured secretly in the bushes.
	The boy wasn’t bad in his shagging of his Mom, a little sloppy, his cock popped out a couple of times as he furiously fucked like a rabid rabbit or dog.  At length, though, he came.  Helga could see gobs and gobs, rivers and rivers of cum oozing out of the woman’s pussy.
	A strange image crossed Helga’s mind—she wanted to be there.  She wanted to suck on Ryan’s cock, his cummy balls—and lap up the cream from the woman’s pussy!
	But then—THEN; it wasn’t Veronica Moonchase laying there but her Mom—Miriam!
	‘Oh my God!’ Helga said to herself.
	It was one thing to carry on sexually with her Dad—but her Mom!?
	Never before had she ever-ever considered such a notion.  Sex with Phoebe was one thing, sex with Kim, one thing, too.  But sex with her Mom?  That scored high on her Weird Thought Shit o’Meter.  Way high.  No other thoughts had scored so high.  She had had sexual misdeeds with young boys and young girls.  Sex in the wild country side with an absolute perfect stranger who could have killed her and Kim and no one would know!
	She was having an ongoing sexual affair with her Dad.  That was bad enough.  Sex ongoing with Kim—that could be accepted.  But her Mom?  Wow.  Wow oh wow oh wow oh my God fucking wow!
	When she came back to her senses—she was no longer alone.

	On the table, Freddy Greebs just completed his turn; little Rachael sat on her Mom’s face, wiggling!  The young girl sat right on her Mom’s face wiggling her bald hairless pussy right onto her Mom’s mouth!  Ryan had his mouth to his Mom’s cunt!

	After at least two minutes, Rachael slipped off of her Mom’s face and Heather climbed on.  Ryan stood up and Freddy took over tongue lashing his mom’s best friend.  Sperm dripped from Ryan’s cock as he stared blankly at the table.  Donna got onto the woman’s face, laid down the body and Ryan positioned himself behind her.  It was a little difficult for Helga to see but after a minute it was clear as to what was going on—the young girl on Ryan’s Mom’s face was getting buggered!
	Jody Zo, a Chinese/Hawaiian girl, got her asshole fucked while on Veronica’s face—once by Ryan and once by Freddy.  Rachael got her pert little ass fucked by her brother, Freddy, and a man.
	The man was tall, wore a ball cap with a long pony tail out the back.  He was very tan, a little over six foot tall, cowboy boots, and quite the little hard-on when he stepped out into view.  Night was coming on and the only light was from the flickering campfire.  Stepping up to Heather he placed his cock against the child’s face—then into her mouth.
	After doing same to Donna the man went to Rachael, who lay on her Mother, and after slap/spanking her ass with his cock, entered her.  Helga didn’t know if he was buggering her asshole or pussy.  The girl grunted, clung to her Mom and the table and endured several minutes of violation.
	At one point, while the stranger man put it to ten year old Donna, he looked directly at Helga.  Little Donna lay on her back on the table, her legs up on the man’s chest—his cock buried to the hilt in her asshole.  Night had come on and though Helga had willingly (she hoped and thought) gave herself to the stranger, Rain, a while back, she didn’t feel the same giving way to the unnamed stranger.
	It was dark—and getting a little cold.  Helga shivered and very muchly wanted to be clothed—she had had enough of going naked.  Her pussy quivered but that was by her own doing and what she saw in the campsite—she had no desires to let the stranger fuck her.
	The man finished his defiling of Donna, pulled out and stepped around the table cum dripping-dripping from his cock.  No other light there was save for the flickering flames in the campfire.  The man stared intently into the woods and bushes—could he see her?  Could he hear her shivering?
	The man cocked his head, sighed, farted, then went to Ryan.  The boy was put to his Mother, once he got going he was spanked—wit the man’s hand and then the man’s cock.  And at length he mounted the boy and heartily sodomized him.

	What awoke her she didn’t know—she froze (and was freezing) and came wide awake.  Confusion reigned supremely in her mind; bugs and insects were not so much as they would be in the Spring and the Summer.   Little bit of fire flickered in the campfire pit; nothing stirred.
	Nothing stirred but Helga who stole into the camp and raided the ice chests!

It’s remote but not so far as you can’t walk to it in a single day (with a pack mule…)
	The creek running thru the woods varied in size; mostly it was small, narrow, and not so deep.  That changed in various ways with the formation of pools, ponds, and cascading waterfalls.  A few campsites were about the area, some having nothing more than a campfire pit; others had a picnic table (or the remains of one.)  All had trails leading to them, there was piped water to a center spigot next to the facilities (the facilities being nothing more than outhouses.)
	One campsite was occupied, close to the creek.  One large family with an “extra.”  A Daddy, a Mommy, three offspring.  The Extra was a few years younger than the Daddy, but they worked together and had become friends.  The family, plus one, had been enjoying the camping experience a couple of days; their vehicles were parked nearby in a small clearing designated as a parking lot.
	The “Extra” slipped out of the campsite disappearing down along the creek.  A girl about thirteen followed a few minutes later on the pretense of going to the outhouse facility.  The others remained in camp, singing sappy camp songs and making merry.
	The thirteen year old girl was a little on the heavy side, a little on the short side, thick-thick blond hair, small-small blue eyes.  She was a happy-go-lucky girl, tomboyish, and not really bad looking despite her overweightness.
	Anyways, after washing her hands at the only spigot she scampered merrily down a narrow trail, pausing now and then to listen before continuing onward.  At length she came to where the landscape leveled with the creek that charged down the canyon it had made.  The span of the “canyon” was about fifty feet with the creek making ponds and pools here and there.  HUGE trees were everywhere, some had been cut long-long ago.
	One such cut huge tree scorched and blackened by fire was at the edge of the trail and the creek.  Years of weather and rushing water had carved and caved in the landscape making a sizable depression.

	On the other side of the tree down by the creek side, Darren Woblast, peed.  After his pee he stroked.  Darren was in his mid thirties, tall, lots of dark brown hair, brown eyes, and a sizeable dick.  While he peed—there was a spy on the tree stump above him.
	“You don’t have to hide.” said Darren.
	The girl did, she squeaked, squeaked, and fled.
	Darren continued to jerk it then casually made his way back to camp.
	Later that evening, after dinner, AND everyone BUT Darren and Susan had gone to bed; at the parking lot no bigger to accommodate more than four vehicles, Darren and Susan held hands.  Susan sat so-so on the tailgate let down on Darren’s pickup.  A little midnight smooching, some embracing, and then—then, Darren’s dick was out of his pants and Susan’s hand was on it!
	Stroke me-stroke me!
	Darren got a little amorous and Susan wasn’t ready for it.  Too bad.  It wasn’t known if a mind altering device was being used—too dark to tell, but what could be seen was Susan’s pants and undies at her ankles and the girl laying down into the bed of truck.  Tall oilfield worker, Darren, then positioned himself behind the girl and “had at it.”
	It couldn’t be seen if the man was “having at” Susan’s pussy or asshole but he went after it for several minutes—pulling out and spanking the girl’s ass with his cock before she stood up (or was helped to stand up.)  It appeared that the girl was sniveling and/or whimpering.
	Then she went to her knees and took the man’s cock in her hands plus into her mouth.  Darren rocked back and forth, pulled out of her mouth to face fuck her then back into her mouth for more fucking until he blasted off a fresh hot spew.
	It wasn’t to the girl’s liking; she spat out the goo, coughed and gagged—then pulled up her clothes and fled leaving Darren wondering if he should flee, too.
	Tensely he waited—and waited—and waited some more.
	Nothing.
	Slowly he made his way to his small personal dome tent and that was that.  An hour later and Helga stole her way into the camp; acquiring food, drink, and clothes left out to dry.  They were Susan’s clothes and though they were way-way too big for Helga they were made to fit anyways.  
	Later that next day and…

 	A little ways down from the large tree Susan had slyly observed Darren whacking off and the two were securely in a private area hugging, kissing, and groping.  Whether or not a minding device was in use couldn’t be learned—Helga had to maintain supreme secrecy in her hiding limiting her visibility.
	She did see, though, thirty-six year old Darren unleash the beast.
	Susan grasped the “beast” and pleased it.
	More kissing followed and then,
	Darren pulled off his shirt as well as Susan’s!
	The big girl had big tits.  Not too big or gigantic but more than she needed.  Darren fondled the bared boobs then undone the girl’s pants.  Susan didn’t object but she seemed nervous just the same.  She finished undoing her pants and taking them off—along with her big girl panties.
	Darren slipped off his clothing and stood blatantly naked before her stroking his very manly dick.  A sort of leering smile was etched on his face; he said,
	“Suck me,” then, “suck me like you do your brothers!”
	Oh!
	 Sounded like blackmail—that worked, too!
	Naked Susan looked around then went to her knees.  Tossing some of that blond mop of hair out of her face she took Darren’s cock; she worked it, squeezed it, then tugged the skin of the flute tight to the base and pressed her lips to the bulbous head and began sucking.
	Darren placed his hands on his hips, threw his head back and seemed to be very pleased.  He pumped into the girl’s mouth and with one hand to the back of her head helped her along.
	After a couple of minutes Darren pulled out and fucked the girl’s face.
	That was followed by easing the girl down on her back; Darren positioned himself right up against her and began diddling her pussy.  Susan pursed her lips tight, squeezed her eyes tight, and slung her head side to side.  It was an indication that she was not enjoying the ordeal as much as Darren was.
	Then he rolled onto her and eased his prick into her pussy.
	Helga was pissed as she was unable to see the penetration; she was at the wrong angle and could only see the profile.  But be that as it was, there was fucking commencing and it was clear that Susan wasn’t as much into it as was Darren.

	Serious fucking there was; Darren thrusting as hard as he could pulling out a time or two to spank his dick against Susan’s cunt then jab his way back into her sex and fuck until ultimate euphoria was achieved.  The man arched his back like a circus performer and shuddered as his liquid love coated Susan from within.
	Afterwards,
	Laying on the heaving girl, Darren kissed her, groped her titties, and relaxed.  Susan somewhat was emotional—but not the good kind.  Darren cooed to her and seemed desperate in his efforts to calm the girl.  Helga DID pick up the words “I know what you did” and “I saw you--” something-something.  He had dirt on her and having his way with her was his way of having his way without retribution.
	Minutes later and Susan was on her knees, face down.  Darren behind her spanking her with his hand and dick.  Then he sodomized her.  Susan definitely wasn’t into that gambit and wept into her clothes.

	Later that day, like evening type time, Susan’s family and Darren loaded up their vehicles to head back to civilization.  Days later and Helga learned that Susan had been caught with her brothers having sex.  Darren lost his head at work—a guy wire line securing a tall oilfield derrick snapped and decapitated him.  wow—I’ve heard of losing one’s head at work but…

*

Must be something in the woods
	At Light-Rock Campground there were facilities—brick shit house with Men/Women shower stalls, too!  The woods were different; there was a large-large pond stocked with fish; lots and lots (and lots!) of vegetation; a ranger station with information booth.  There, too, was a building where instruction on the woods and its animal inhabitants was given weekly.
	In one of the instructional rooms, Patricia Hunston worked putting out party decorations and setting up for a camp party to be held in a few hours.  She was not alone, children One-Two-Three were there semi reluctantly to help out.
	Patricia and her children were not alone.
	Youngest Hunston’s child was the most helpful; the other two had other plans.   Middle child, Kyle, was on his Mom’s proverbial Shit List for ditching responsibilities, ditching the family, staying out late at camp, and coming back to camp soaking wet.

	Oldest Hunston child, Katelynn, was not so enthused with the detail, either, and was antsy to get it over with.  She was tall, slim build, good size breasts, long-long golden brown hair, long arms and legs.  Sister Kellie, the youngest Hunston, had superior blond hair, blue eyes, small butt, and at eleven she had decent titties—despite having the appearance of a ten year old!
	Thirteen year old Kyle tempted fate by trying to shuffle his task of setting up the tables onto sister Katelynn.  Katelynn wasn’t going for it and walked away to another table—
	Then she stood still slinging her head side to side—
	“You gonna hurl?” Kyle asked.  It was a sign he had seen his sisters do—and even himself did that in some sort of odd ritual just before vomiting.  The tall fifteen year old slung her head, gripped the table; then went still.
	Kyle cocked his head and stepping up to her got a chill; turning his head he saw sister Kellie also still—as was his Mom.
	“What’s going on?” he asked.  It would be the last thing he said (on his own)

	Patti clung to the table she had been setting; she slung her head, squeezed her eyes of blue tight-tight-tight then opened them again.  It didn’t help, she struggled to get a grasp of reality but failed—overwhelmed by an outside influence!
	She was “aware” but unable to do anything about it.  She turned about resting her butt against the table she had been fussing over.  The room was 25 by 25; wood paneling, dividers, lots of tables and chairs, and two doors.  Both those doors were now closed.
	Kyle came and stood in front of his Mother—like her, he was struggling against a strong force compelling him to act.  Off came his shirt, shoes, then pants to his ankles.  He still seemed to be struggling but not as much as before—almost an acceptance of his fate.
	Patty knew what was happening.  She shook her head and looked around as much as she could to see who was using one of those damnedable EMAD things.  She didn’t see anyone (nor did the young little spy!)
	Kyle also lowered his tidy-whiteys and stood up staring at his Mother.
	Kellie and Katelynn came over to their brother flanking him; then the closed up right up against the nude boy each stretching out their hands to play with his penis while also smoothing their hands over his bare ass.

	Then,
	A man stepped out from behind one of the half closed partitions.  He was tall, a blue long sleeved shirt and jeans.  He had a bit of a beard and a confident swagger in his walk—albeit a short walk to the stunned near mindless group.  He looked over the nude boy; the girls (and boy) looked to him.  All knew that they were “in the soup”—they knew that they were under the influence of a minding device.
	“Have you played with your brother’s cock before?” the man asked openly and blatantly.
	The children all had bulging eyes and wavering lips; their mother stood griping the table she rested against all the harder—with equal eyes bulging and blinking excessively.
	The girls strove to resist answering but stammered the truth, “YES!”
	“Do you suck him?” the man asked.
	The girls were in fits of convulsions.  Kellie didn’t answer but Katelynn did, a very affirmative YES!
	The man chuckled and held up in his hands a minding device.  He pressed a few buttons and asked a few more questions:
	“Do you fuck your sisters?”
	“Do you bone your sisters in their ass?”
	“Want to fuck your Mom?”
	“Want to have sex with your classmates?”
	“Want to fuck your best friend?”
	The questions were leveled to Kyle who looked like he was going to hurl.  He didn’t—but it looked like it.  It was a great struggle to keep from answering—but the man’s minding device was strong and deftly forced the boy to answer.
	Only to Katelynn was he fucking and only recently.
	Neither sister did he “bone in their ass.”
	There was no answer whatsoever when asked about boning his Mom.
	Most of the girls in his 7th grade class he wanted to fuck, to see naked at least or in their underwear the very least.  It did help his fantasizes to see such girls in their swimsuits…
	Inasmuch as he had struggled and blanked out on answering if whether or not he had wanted to fuck his Mom—he struggled against the last answer of sex with his best friend, Henry.  The answer was, though, Yes.
	“HAVE you had sex with your best friend, Henry?”
	The boy sweated, cried, and had a nice hard-on.  The answer was another “Yes.”
	The man smiled and began on the girls.

	Katelynn was not only spreading her legs for her horny brother, but a boyfriend.  Her first sexual experience was “in-the-closet” at her first boy/girl party her Mom didn’t know about.  In the closet at a friend’s house she kissed a boy and they fondled one another.  Later on that night they skinny dipped in her family’s backyard.  Sex on the deck followed thereafter.
	Nothing had ventured up Katelynn’s butt.
	She sucked her brother and their cousin.
	One time sexual experiment with a girlfriend—kissing, fingering, pussy pounding, pussy munching.  She had no sexual thoughts of sex with her Dad.
	Kellie was an avid masturbator; she and her brother fingered one another and fingered one another often.  Kyle DID try for anal play with Kellie but it just never worked.  No sex with anyone in the family or out.  She had SOME sexual thoughts in regards to her own classmates, but that was normal.
	Katelynn began undressing—her Mother began convulsing mouthing “NO!”  Kyle remained naked and staring straight through his Mom.  Kellie, too, began peeling out of her clothing.  The man beside her watch her with sadistic lustful glee.  Of all the men spying Helga had seen—she feared this unnamed man the most.
	While their distraught mother watched, Kellie and Katelynn undressed the man—mostly they just undone his pants and pulled them down along with his boxers.  Patti was beside herself struggling to breathe.  Her eyes stared at the horrid man in utter disbelief.
	Then, on their knees—the girls began masturbating the man and his very manly cock.  Patti was in fits but couldn’t move.  The girls couldn’t flee—all they could do was manipulate the man’s cock, squeeze it, tug and then begin the task of orally pleasing him.
	Patricia undressed—under dire duress.  There was no anger displayed; she was more horrified and frightened than pissed off.  Once naked, she stood and her children gawked at her—especially Kyle.
 	Katelynn and Kellie began undressing—slowly—especially slow mode when it came to lowering their panties.  The man stood jacking himself, smiling, leering, lusting.  Kyle’s young cock had already been hard by his sisters playing with his cock; then, with his sisters playing with the stranger’s dick his cock got all the harder.  Then, with the girls butt bare assed naked—extreme hardness!

	Katelynn came to suck on her brother’s cock—right in front of their mother.  The woman, Patty, went ballistic—inside.  She was unable to defeat the electronic mind altering device.  She tried but was no longer in control of her body.
	After Katelynn sucked her brother for a few minutes or so; the naked stranger stepped out of his clothes and went to Patty.  Everyone was right there—right close.  Kyle’s super hard cock was just mere inches from the man’s ass, the girls’ faces were also mere inches from the bare ass.
	Patty laid out on the table she had just set for the camp party; her long near lily white legs spread out and the man took a moment to gawk at her womanness; then he began fingering her trimmed trim—stroking his cock all the while.  Kellie and Katelynn were right there up close to see the action—the action when the stranger eased his cock into their mother’s pussy.
	“Oh my God!” Katelynn managed to blurt out.
	Full vaginal penetration did the stranger make; he slid all the way in and pumped a bit—then slid all the way out, waggled his cock, glided the cock up and down the woman’s crevice, then had Kellie suck it going up and down several times before he returned to the girl’s mother and finished fucking her.
	When the man pulled out, the girls and their brother stared at the flow of cum oozing out of the gash.  “Wow.” said Kellie, “Sonofabitch!” mouthed Kyle, “Holy shit!” exclaimed Katelynn.
	Katelynn sucked the man’s cock—it was either “suck me,” he said with a sneer, “or suck her.” Meaning, ‘lick the cream I just left in (and on) your Mother’s cunt!’
	After a thorough tube polishing from the fifteen year old, the man stepped back and with a gentle hand to the boy’s shoulder guided him to his waiting Mother.  The boy instantly shook his head but was unable to exclaim his protest or stop the proceedings—especially after the man leaned to the boy’s ear and whispered something.  What it was was not known to the girls, their Mother, or the hiding-spying Helga.
	Kyle firstly stepped up to his Mother—glided his superior cock against his Mom’s sex—then he was goaded into penetrating by the man’s swift bare ass attack.  Once he was in, though, the spanking ceased.  Natural instinct took over and the boy proceeded with the fucking.
	The man masturbated, smiled and leered, then had Katelynn get and come around the other side of the table—and get up on her Mother’s face!  Katelynn, nor anyone else, didn’t know what to think.  It was just as embarrassing as anything else they had been doing, though.  
	After Katelynn had nestled herself down onto her Mother’s face, she was spanked by the bizarre naked stranger.  
	“Suck your brother’s dick when it comes out.” The man horridly said.
	Katelynn was repulsed and by the command; young Kellie and Kyle seemed to be awed.  Kyle pumped hard for a couple of minutes then experienced a glorious orgasm.
	“Holy fucking shit wow!” he bellered.
	The stranger among them laughed and proceeded to spank Katelynn.
	Katelynn wailed and tried to protect her ass,
	“I said ‘when he comes out—you suck!’” and the man swatted Katelynn’s ass HARD until she wrapped her lips about her brother’s cum jutting cock.
	After some sucking, Katelynn slid off.  She was disgusted by what she had done—what she had to do; she began to retch and gag and the man put her back onto her Mother’s face then put his cock into her asshole.  All Katelynn could do was hold on.

	After several intense minutes of being sodomized, Katelynn melted as the man finally pulled out.  She thought the ordeal was probably over.  She thought wrong.  Right after the man finally pulled out he had Kellie come around and after spanking her bare ass she began licking out her sister’s festering cum laden funk hole!
	It wasn’t over.
	Kyle replaced Katelynn, nestling his testicle sac into his Mom’s mouth.  The boy was spanked—then sodomized.  The man gripped Kyle’s hips and plowed the boy’s hole with some reverence.  The fuck was on for several enduring minutes.
	And it STILL wasn’t over!
	The man stepped back, massaged his cock, and Kellie came to sit on her Mom’s face—Kyle took a turn going up her butt.  When he gruntingly came off a few minutes later—sister Katelynn lapped up the juices from her sister’s hole.
	More spanking—to Patty.  The man firstly went; locking the woman’s ankles he pulled her legs up and back and then “had at it” walloping her bare ass until the flesh turned the color of a vine ripened tomato.  Then Kyle was conscripted into the deed—spanking his Mom’s ass until his hand stung.  Katelynn and then Kellie took their turns.
	With Kyle having a boner—he was put to the task of fucking Kellie.  Katelynn lapped up the juices then was raped by the stranger.  Afterwards, the stranger simply left!

Camp Gangbang
	(and final forest story)
	Some hours after sunrise and a large SUV rolled out on a dirt road further encrusting the upscale pick-up with more dust.  Two parental units and two young’uns.  The area was heavy woods but there was sufficient space between the trees to make one’s way.  Lots of vegetation, cool air, and game trails.  A small lake was nearby and some nifty lakeside cabins.  Four of them, spaced well apart, all multi story.
	Only one was in use.
	The family name etched on a large wooden plank tacked to a tree at the entrance to the cabin property read Bangersnatch.  Underneath were smaller planks with names:  Mike  Carol with line etchings going outward from their names respectively.  From Mike’s side a line was etched going to the smaller name plaques with boys’ names:  Garry  Peter  Bobby.  From Carol’s name tag a line etching went down to the smaller plaques having girls’ names:  Marla  Jan  Cindy.
	No one was about and it was a safe guess that the SUV that had just left contained both parental units and the two youngest Bangersnatch children.  Sure was quiet around the cabin, though; fishing poles were present, along with a canoe, backpacks, all signs of an active family—that was apparently not very active.
	Maybe they were on a hike?
	Super spy Helga Heely didn’t think so.  After sizing up the situation (such as it was) she scampered and then scurried to the cabin.  The interior of the cabin seemed quiet, too.  In the kitchen; left over pancakes, apples, milk, orange juice—a plethora of sustenance for a misguided spy!
	There was some noises—Helga couldn’t quite make them out.  She felt no urgency in amscraying so she continued to help herself to the breakfast buffet.  Afterwards, she found a bathroom and took the risk of a quick cleanup.  She longed, though, for a long soak in a bathtub—her bathtub—the one back home.
	There were multi floors to the not so rustic but remotely placed cabin; one floor above and one below plus an attic.  The floor below was a basement—it housed a multiuse game room, small kitchen, and full bath.  A ping pong table, pool table, and various card tables took up the “game” area; then there was a large nook with a sliding door leading out to the fenced backyard.  In the nook were large sectional sofas, a large fireplace, and a large big screen TV.
	Helga smirked to herself, ‘Big Bob would love this!’

	Fourteen year old Jan shrieked and jumped as she and her sister, Marla, engaged in ping pong ball hijinks.  Both girls had super long honey blond hair, both were tall, both had fantastic teenage bodies.  Jan was a year younger and was two points up on Marla.
	No one else was about.  Helga very carefully tredged up the wooden stairs from the kitchen hearing noises all familiar—giggles.  There, too, was bed springs indicating some hanky and/or panky was at hand.  On the second floor were the bedrooms and a hall bathroom.  At the far end was the access to the attic.  A short four step stair to a turn and then four more steps and you were in the small attic with sloping roof.  At the turn sat two boys, Peter and Bobby.  Peter was fourteen, Bobby was eight.
	Both boys were trying hard to curtail their giggles; and Peter had his peter out!  The teen prong was stiff and hard and Peter was strongly wrestling with it while brother Bobby was on his knees careening his head to see up into the attic.
	Something was going on and Helga was missing it!
	Disgruntled, Helga backed up and ventured into the parental unit’s bedroom and found a private balcony.  No access to the attic.  No access to the attic from any of the bedrooms but there was access (to the attic) from the spot where Helga had come up—she hadn’t seen it until coming down the hallway from where the boys were.  The stairs were duplicate of the other set just at the opposite end of attic.
	Lots of furniture was stowed in the attic; it was musty and dusty in the attic—but not at the far end where Helga was heading and where the “bed squeaking” was going on.  As she made her way in a maze-like manner the telltale sounds of someone “gettin’ some” was very evident.
	At length Helga made it as close as she could get without being seen.  She had to hold her nose as her travel across the attic had stirred up a lot of dust.  There was a bedroom constructed at the far end of the attic, a breeze way window with two slanted windows from the roof.  There, too, was a small bathroom, a desk, a bead curtain, posters of long dead rock musicians, and a bed.
	On the bed were two teens “gettin’ it on.”
	Garry was on his back with his tagalong girlfriend on top.  Both teens were naked and Garry’s cock was buried to the hilt into the girl’s pussy with his hands clamped tenaciously on the girl’s ass.  Very interesting!  Helga’s pussy instantly got hot and instantly wanted Garry’s cock in HER pussy.
	Garry and his girlfriend, Shawna, turned over giving all onlookers the Missionary view.  The girl’s legs went up Garry’s chest and the fucking continued.

	When the finale of their lovemaking came to its final crescendo, the two teens lay in their lustful aftermath.  The girl was a cutey—ski slope tits, her skin all over had been lovingly kissed by the sun.  Lovely hair, too; ultra soft and very curled.  A lovely body and Garry adored it (so did Helga!)
	The two teens arose from the bed and scampered nakedly to the small bathroom that had nothing but a toilet and a small shower (a sink was over the toilet!)  Peter and Bobby made a hasty retreat to their bedroom where even eight year old Bobby had a boner.  Pete flogged his bone, stripping his pants off and smacking his own ass as he worked it.  Bobby giggled and though he was quite young—he had a nifty little hard-on regardless.
	The door to the boys’ bedroom was open just enough to allow Helga the peek—and so enthused was she at watching those boys she narrowly missed intruders coming up the stairs behind her.  Had it not been for their yapping Helga would have been busted.
	There was no fleeing to the attic stairs she had gone up before, so she fled to the attic stairs she had come down moments behind the fleeing boys.  She hoped Garry and his girlfriend were still in the bathroom.  They were.  but just barely, as soon as Helga invaded the bedroom and got herself in behind the furniture—Garry and his girl stepped out of the cramped bathroom.  They hugged, kissed, and danced.  Helga wanted to hurl.  She didn’t much believe in love—it was lust—pure lust.
	Marla and Jan had come up with Marla going to their bedroom and Jan to the bathroom.  Garry paid them no mind—he didn’t hear them nor would he care if he did.  His embrace to Shawna was intense—their kissing was even more so.  Then they fell onto the bed again (with Marla once more on top.)  They lay awkwardly there for a moment still locked in a lip lock for at least a minute.  Then Barry moved onto the bed proper with Shawna locked onto him.  Sex began again for round two; Garry spanked his girl’s ass, squeezed the cheeks and drove his teenhood into her sex.
	The squeaking of the old iron bed got the attention of Marla and Jan.  they soon came to meet in the hall, giggle, and then step carefully to the attic stairs where their brothers had just been.  And like their brothers previously, they soon got a case of the hornies!
	Marla slowly inched a hand down inside her tight-tight white jeans.  Jan fingered herself outside her pants and strove to lean up to see more clearly her brother and his girlfriend.  Spying Helga suddenly had a stomach ache.  She had not had decent food since she scurried from home and what she had consumed lately was upsetting her system.  She had to potty and potty NOW!

	It was a wonder she wasn’t heard—scurrying like a mouse across the dusty attic, down the other stairs and down to the hall bathroom on the first floor—she barely made it.  As soon as the pants (no panties) were down and her ass was at a 45-degree angle she was making Number Two.  And a lot of it!
	A big sigh of relief and then she quickly gathered herself together and made way back up to the show.  At the top of the stairs and before turning to the alcove where the second set of attic access stairs were the girl saw an open bedroom door—the boys’ bedroom door.  It was open a little more—a little more than it should.  Helga didn’t know the Ins and/or Outs of the Bangersnatch family (but she was learning!)
	In the boys’ bedroom, fourteen year old Peter and eight year old Bobby were naked.  Both had hard-ons.  Both had decent dark hair, dark eyes, decent bodies (especially naked!)  At the time of Helga’s spying, Peter was in the ass of his young sibling.  Bobby didn’t seem to mind and fondled his dick while he was being buggered.  He even giggled!
	When Peter got his nuts off he pulled out and stumbled backwards stroking his dick and continuing to squirt cum leaving a trail on the blue carpeting.  “Holy shit!” he exclaimed grinning and chortling, “that was fucking amazing!”
	Bobby rubbed his ass and tried like a dog going after his tail to see his freshly buggered asshole.  The boy turned around—almost catching Helga at the door and faced his giggling brother.  “Your turn!” he said.
	Helga found her pussy wet—she hoped it was from sexual want and not something else.  Peter shrugged, “Ok.” And still grinning dropped to his knees.  For fucking his brother in the ass—he had to suck little brother’s dick.  Seemed an even/fair trade.
	Meanwhile, across the hall in the girls’ bedroom—
	Marla and Jan were also naked and making out.
	Helga liked—a lot!  She yearned to be a part of them.  Thoughts of home and troubles began to surge making her more homesick than ever.  Maybe it was time to “face the music?”  How bad could it be?  The loss of love and respect from her parents—that would be a toughie.  Maybe it could work out.  If not, maybe she could make her way back to the City and hang with Phoebe.

*

What’s a little cum among friends?
	A rare but not unusual storm made its way into the area; mostly rain but flurries of snow, too.  In a one-room cabin in the woods there was merriment, two fires raging warmth in their fireplaces, food and drink, and nudity.  Nudity and frivolity.
	On her hands and knees, Lucy (Lucy Horsnitch) sucked the cock of Bobby (Bobby Barns.)  Behind Lucy, Mack (Mack Knott Thanife) pounded her pussy (and asshole) as he saw fit.  Bobby stood with his legs spread out—he stood with his legs spread out so as Anna Hanna could suck on his testicles as she lay on HER back with her head up between Bobby’s legs.
	Quite a scene.
	Nearby, Madeline Saraee lay on her back simply fingering herself while Annette Angela sat on her face being licked out (by Madeline.)  In a mass of blankets, little Lydia Littlespunk and the lone black girl, Tosha Shaun, slept.
	Mack’s tagalong runaway girl, Darla Lickstitty, was asleep, too.
	The rain came with some thunder.  Both fireplaces blazed nicely with their fires; thirteen year old Bobby blew off his load in Lucy’s mouth.  It had been a struggle for the young teen—he had been cumming and cumming and cumming all the day long!  He had no more to give.  
	Fourteen year old Lucy took the boy’s final offering, then laid her head down to the floor taking her Captor’s offering in her pussy (and ass.)  Bobby stepped away holding his aching cum squirter in some agony.  He ultimately found his way into the mass of shared coverings but couldn’t go to sleep—not while his cock was in agony.
	The other girls aforementioned stopped their antics and covered themselves under the coverings, too; leaving only Mack and Lucy to “finish” up.  And like Bobby, Mack had been cumming and cumming all the day long, too.  His cock was more than shagged out.
	When the cum blast finally came there was a mighty announcement (from Mack) who usually didn’t make such announcements.  He was done.  Done and done.  Lucy scampered under the coverings, Mack leaned against a counter heaving, panting, sweating…
	Outside and the rain fell in buckets.
	In the morning type time—the rain was still falling.
	On the back porch it was noted that only a “few sticks” of wood was available.  It wouldn’t do if Mack decided to make time at the cabin.

	“Come on, son,” Mack said to Bobby, “gotta get some wood.”
	The two dressed warmly and went out to the truck leaving Lucy and Darla in charge; Darla would be alright, but a warning was issued to Lucy,
	“Behave.” It was a simple command one that was implanted by “if you know what’s good for you!” as well as electronical.
	Mack and Bobby then took off in the big truck in the pouring rain.
	At a campsite for campers in the summer there was a large pile of wood put there by rangers and conscripted law breakers of the county in the winter.  The wood wasn’t seasoned but was chopped into fireplace (campfire) piece sizes.  Pine and cedar mostly.  Mack and Bobby filled the back of the big army truck then took off to head to that general store at the edge of a nearby town on Center Line Main Rd.
	After some purchases it was off on familiar but confusing roads; he didn’t like traveling in same areas—it was better to be forgotten as a passing thought than being remembered conspicuously (and traipsing about the countryside in a big “yellow” army truck was kind of hard to forget.
	A pair of deputy sheriff cars once more were in view causing him to make a detour.  The detour emptied him out on the main road into town; according to the map there was a dirt road going thru the woods to connect with the Rinkydink road and the road out to his remote cabin.  
	Somehow he missed it.
	The rain was just pouring and pouring; so much so that he was sure Noah was going to get interested.  Knowing that he had indeed missed the turn-off he turned the big truck around and found another road going out to Lost Lake.
	He found the lake and another road that wasn’t ON the map but it went off thru the woods in the direction of Rinkydink and Mineway.  Close enough.  Taking it slow so as not to miss the turn-off he passed a large campsite usually reserved for church groups.  He wouldn’t have paid it much attention save for someone under a picnic table.
	No one was else was about—the campground was empty and not usually used in the Fall or Winter months.  Mack moved his rig on coming to familiar territory and then his turn-off.  Coming up to the small wooden bridge going over a now overflowing creek, Mack stopped and mulled.
	He mulled and mulled and mulled.
	Then he put the big truck in reverse, ran over a stump and then the four rural route mailboxes.  There was still someone under the picnic table.  The big truck pulled into the campground and Mack got out.  The rain wasn’t letting up and was getting colder.

	“It’s a heck of a thing to have hide from Nature.” Mack said making some unknown archaic statement.  “It’s a little warmer in the truck.” He said correctingly and making more sense.  Stretching out his hand he offered help to the bedraggled, confused, cold, and wet undescribed person slinking under the camp table.
	The offer was accepted and it was not known that the person was a girl until at the cabin and undressed before the blazing fireplace.
	After she was stripped of clothing that was not really her own she was massaged (by Mack) and then dressed with a blanket wrap.  Hot cocoa was offered to her and she barely was able to make a reply, “Thank you.”
	“Welcome to the cabin in the woods.” Mack said smiling.
	The disheveled girl of about thirteen or so, twin braided blond hair, blue eyes, tomboyish body, shivered and tried to say something but was unable.  The girl hunkered down before the fireplace sipping her cocoa; her benefactor hunkered alongside her.
	“How’d you come to be under that table?”
	“Long story.” she muttered.  She sighed, shivered, shuddered, and looked very lost.
	“Well,” Mack said to her, “anytime you want to share, I’m open.”
	The girl stared off into the fire; Mack and Bobby unloaded the truck.

*
Did you know?
A midget fortune-teller who escapes from prison is a small medium at large
	The rain had stopped (finally!) leaving a fresh pine/cedar scent in the cool fall air.  On the bottom of a three-step stair off the back porch and there stood Lucy—legs spread, naked, peeing.  Behind her at an angle stood benefactor Mack Thanife—also naked and also peeing.  Mack’s pee stream, though, wasn’t angled to the ground or floor but to Lucy’s nice teenage ass.
	When Lucy had finished her pee she turned and brushing her dark hair out of her face went to her knees and began sucking on the man’s cock.  Anna, Madeline, Annette, Tosha, Lydia, Bobby, Toby, and Darla stood around in the small covered porch—waiting their turn to pee and watching the blowjob in progress.
	Helga was there, too, in the kitchen.  The backdoor was open and she had awoken with a startle.  After her mind had settled she arose and checked out what was going on.
	After a couple of minutes of orally pleasing the man, Lucy stopped and moved out of the way.  The black girl was close and she took her turn on the stair-steps and pissed a good morning piss.

	…and that was followed by a two minute cock suck of Mack.
	Annette took her turn and got a mouthful of jiz for her efforts.  Mack moaned and groaned at the pending pleasure—Annette made a squeamish face as the jizum was not particularly to her liking.  She almost hurled but settled for retching instead.
	Anna and Madeline took their turns peeing firstly then slobbering on the man’s cock.  Lucy hung her head when little Lydia came up to pee.  She had already peed in her bedding thru the night and had gotten a spanking for it.  She peed a little more on the back porch steps—then settled for almost a three minute cock suck.
	Thirteen year old Bobby Barns pissed a hearty piss and hesitated afterwards.  Mack stared at the boy conveying a lot.  Nothing was said.  The Fall air was chilly and fragranted nicely with the surrounding trees.  Mack stood stroking his favorite organ—waiting.
	Naked Bobby sighed, turned, and stared at the semi hard cock.  Slowly he moved to his knees facing the one-eyed-monster and with eyes closed he began sucking.
	Less than a minute later and the boy had a pronounced erection.
	Lucy bent over on her knees and took Bobby’s bone and sucked it while Mack caressed her ass lovingly.  His bone in the boy’s mouth swelled but didn’t produce any jiz.  He finally grew weary and pulled out slapping his prong against Bobby’s sweet handsome boyish face.
	The seven year old boy had reservations but took his turn on the steps for his morning piss but didn’t hold back going to his knees to take the man’s offering.  At seven, the boy was wise to punishments for not doing something he was told to do.  In the cabin, if he himself was not punished then someone else would be.
	Then it was back inside the cabin to play some games, sing songs, and have a sponge bath.  Darla and Helga kind of hung together—thoughts to their own.  Mack let them be but there was an option:  Fuck or Be Fucked.
	It was more or less an open question rather than a statement of fact.  To Darla it didn’t matter; to Helga it was worth considering.  At the moment, though; she wasn’t so enthused and only wanted to sleep.  Mack was cool with that and let her be.

	Fuck or be fucked
	Her mood was soured, lucklastered, floundering in a sea of confusion, concern, and a longing to “make things right.”  Despite her fucked up way of life and relationship to her parental units, she missed them.  She loved her Dad and Mom; maybe she didn’t always respect them but she loved them.

	“Unless Life also gives you sugar and water, you’re lemonade’s gonna suck!” Helga had seen that written on a bathroom wall—when she lived in the city.  She didn’t really understand the connotation of the statement but kept it in mind.  “If Life gives you lemons—make lemonade!” she had heard that line all the time and figured the two statements (about lemons) had some sort of connection and meaning.
	Life couldn’t suck any worse than it was currently; busted by her Mom with an EMAD; her Dad standing naked in her room with his cock dripping cum; Helga naked with cum dripping from her pussy.  Then, on the run, her frail naked body inundated with Mother Nature’s nature.  
	It hadn’t been all that bad; there had been all the spying that had thrilled her.  But the separation from her parents—that was a toughie.  Casually, though, she wondered if she missed her Dad for his love and association of being a parent OR his big dick!
	She thought a little of the latter—his big dick!
	There had been the thought that she would eventually let her Dad in on the fact that she DID have a minding device.  She knew that he loved sticking his big dick into Kim; so maybe other girls Kim’s age would he also love to stick.  Maybe younger?   A little older?
	Miriam, her Mother, was okay—a genuine certified space cadet, but she was ok.  Helga realized (too late) that her Mom was special—and maybe even alright to hang out with.  She did try—and Helga realized she had more than once brushed the woman off.  The two were just incompatible—Miriam was from a world Helga knew nothing of.  The ‘60s.  A wild psychedelic time filled with music, sex, drugs, rock and roll…
	Helga hadn’t a clue.
	But, Miriam didn’t understand her daughter, either; Helga was a smart ass, smart mouth.  She was a tomboy but unlike most tomboy girls, Helga like a dress!  The dress outfit wasn’t fancy by no means, a pinkish thing that went to her knees, denim, no frills, bib overall straps.  She usually wore a white blouse (boy’s shirt) underneath or a simple tee-shirt.  
	And then there was the music—Miriam’s music was from the ‘60s, rock and acid rock with some heavy metal.  Helga preferred modern rock, some jazz and even some blues.  Nothing funky, grungy, but some punk.
	In a strange fluke, Helga and her Dad got along better than expected.  Big Bob was a college man, football he’s favorite sport but he like the other top sports, too—including bowling.  No tennis and not much into golf.  NASCAR, baseball, and basketball.

	There, too, was fishing, and tractor pulls along with demolition derbies, and dirt track racing.  He was a big brute, smoked cigars, made infamous chili, and knew incredible offensive jokes.  Yeah, Helga admired him but had never really been “close” to him.  He was embarrassed by her being a girl and not a boy.  When he had to fart he politely let ‘er rip elsewhere—belching, though, was another thing.  And belching—speaking of belching—it was one thing Helga HAD learned from her Dad.  At school, on the street, wherever—Helga Heely could let a belch rip like no other boy could.
	She missed her Dad.

*

Time flies like an arrow.  Fruit flies like a banana
	Cum stains are just a way of life; there’s swallowers and gaggers.
	Her mood was changing; but that was to be expected due to her cross country experience.  There still was, though, sexual lust and deviancy.  That would always probably prevail and be a part of her.  She had to wonder, though, where it came from?  She was classified as a “tomboy” even a bully!  The rough aggression she supposed she got from her Dad, Big Bob.  Where there any qualities she got from her Mom?
	Deep thoughts plagued her—usually while one of her three holes were being plugged.  Sex with Mack Thanife was pretty good—but Helga’s thoughts were of her Dad.  She wanted sex with her Dad—and often while Mack fucked her she replaced him with her Dad.
	That, of course, wasn’t normal.
	Was her Dad a pervert?  Hmmm  Without the aid of her minding device he had willing engaged sexually with her—and Kim!  Helga knew her Dad to be very stubborn, rough, whacked in the head with sports and making a car (now farm implement sale).  But was he one of those closet pervs, too?
	But sex with Mack was good—way good.  A minute—a strong hard cunt pounding minute and Helga was cumming.  Mack sometimes came off early, too.  He was gentle to her—he was gentle to all those he sunk his pud in.  Even when spanking he didn’t go to the extreme.  Darla remained locked in her world—she had a fucked up homelife, as well.
	Lucy, Anna, Madeline, Annette, Tosha, and even Lydia licked Helga’s cunt but didn’t satisfy her as much as Kim (or Phoebe) did.  Kim was very well missed, too.  And there would always be a special place in Helga’s heart for Phoebe.

	Bobby Barns.  Helga liked him—especially when he was naked and especially when he was boning her.  She liked, too, watching him when he fucked one of the other girls.  Seven year old Toby Shaun was alright, but the longing for home had curbed some of Helga’s unnatural desires.
	Mack, however…

	Watching with a sadistic glee, Helga Heely fingered herself as Lucy Horsnitch sucked off on young Toby Shaun.  The little boy was all giggles and was quite into getting his winkie sucked on a regular basis.  His sandy brown hair, blue eyes, and seven year old boy’s body was quite the charm.  Bobby Barns fucked Lucy from behind—poking one hole and then the other.  All the while, Tosha Titscratch clutched his nuggets between his legs.
	Bobby, though embarrassed about the shagging of his cabin mates, did like fucking.  Being fucked was another matter.  Getting his dick sucked was also a pleasing experience.  He didn’t like so much the abuse to the girls from their captor and he very muchly didn’t like the abuse to Lydia.
	But other than that, he got over it and enjoyed many an orgasm.
	Anna Hanna didn’t care much for getting dicked by her captor; she cared less to be spanked.  Sexual engagement with Bobby was ok; it was forced and she knew it so it was tolerable.  Madeline Saraee was different than the other girls—she kind of sort of liked getting dicked by her captor and thoroughly enjoyed dick from Bobby and Toby.  The eleven year old didn’t have a happy homelife and few friends.  She liked sex.  She had more boys who were friends—and sexual friends, than girls.  There was a science teacher at her school who was dicking her…
	Annette Angela didn’t care for being fucked by her captor, either; but getting it on with Bobby was ok.  She didn’t care for messing with little Toby.  She cared less for having to lick the pussy of the other girls and for them to lick her.
	Tosha Titscratch looked on the ordeal with some disdain and participated in the sexual deviancy with a ho-hum attitude.  Mostly to avoid punishment.
	Lydia Littlespunk seemed to engage in all the abnormal frivolity as a mere game.  She wasn’t spanked hard but her Captor enjoyed spanking her until her ass turned red—as he liked doing to all the cabin inhabitants.
	Bobby Barns liked to fuck.  He didn’t like to BE fucked.  He didn’t like to suck cock and he didn’t like to be spanked.  That’s about it.
	And lastly, little Toby Shaun—like Lydia, he just “played along.”

	That was about what all of the cabin inhabitants did—played along.  They went thru the motions of depravity no longer under the influence of their Captor’s minding device but by fear.  There, too, was a promise of compliance would later equal freedom.
	Helga participated lightly, her heart wasn’t in it—but her pussy was!  She also liked being spanked—but preferred her Dad.  Nothing was the same for her and it had been a “few days” since she had scampered out of the house on her cross country trek.
	One morning, the beginning of Helga’s fourth day away from home, and after the ritual morning pee fest off the back porch, it began.  The Finale of the cabin mates.  Fourteen year old Lucy laid out on the bedding with her Captor grinding away on top of her—his cock deeply embedded in her sex with thirteen year old Bobby Barns squatting on her face with his ball sac in her mouth.  Quite a scene.  The lone black girl, Tosha, sucked the boy’s cock.  The narly naughty scene did thrill Helga, she fingered her pussy and had young Toby fuck her; when Mack got his rocks off in Lucy, he pulled out and came up for a Titty Fuck.  Bobby got off and came to sink his hardened pud into Helga.  Toby sat on Lucy’s face and Lydia sucked him.
	And for the hell of it, Helga had Anna, Madeline, and even little Lydia lick her pussy out.  As each girl took her turn tonguing Helga’s poon—Bobby and Toby fucked those girl’s from behind.  Mack was very pleased and had his way with Annette and Tosha.
	Thereafter everyone mounted up in the big military truck and off they went.  A long back road took them out of the woody area to the desert area;  Acton Wells, Dervish Acres, Longview Pasture.  Sound familiar?   Mack’s big military truck was not so conspicuous in those places as there were at least three other military truck enthusiasts who also roamed the desert area.
	Just after sundown and after a bite to eat from a drive-in, Lucy Horsnitch was “let out” behind the abandoned warehouse in Acton Wells.  Bobby engaged sexually with her while Mack spanked her and drove his cock into her pussy while she rode Bobby’s cock beneath her.   A few minutes was taken with Mack using his EMAD to further fuck up her mind—erasing most of the horror of what had happened to her since her abduction.
	There wasn’t a whole lot in Dervish Acres, a few remote old trailers and some shacks.  It was a place for people who were done with society.  Some were miners, some were hiding out waiting for the “heat to die down”, and some were just lost souls wanting to be left alone.

	A lone gas station—non operational, and a fruit stand was about the only thing on the Desert Hwy.  Coyotes called from atop the nearby hills; a warm breeze kissed the faces of those who stood out to stare up to the stars in wonderment.  
	“You wanna go home?”
	“Crossed my mind.”
	“Just say when, I’ll take ya.”
	“Thanks.”  Helga seldom said “thanks” to anyone.
	Sitting on the metal running board that had perforations in it for better footing—wasn’t good for sitting on, Helga tried to think of what to say to her parents.  Nothing came to mind.  Her Mom she wasn’t sure about whatsoever—she had never had to deal with her in any situation regarding strife.  Her Dad, however—wow, that was a toughie, too.  He had a hurt look on his face—it was emblazoned into Helga’s mind.  She saw his face and the confusion—no, not so much confusion but something more.
	‘how could you.’
	It wasn’t known if she could convince him that she hadn’t used the minding device on him.  She hmphed, ‘maybe I’ll get shipped off to military school!’ The girl scout thing didn’t seem like such a bad idea after all.
	Mack sat quietly beside her—until she farted.  Then he returned the offense with his own before standing, stretching, and “whipping it out” for a good pee.  Helga, in ill-fitting but would do clothing minus panties and bra, stripped the pants off along with the two sizes too big shoes, stretched, fart again, then stood with legs apart pissing out a storm.
	“It might work out,” Mack said, “have faith.” he said with a light air about his statement.  Helga hadn’t fully copped to Mack about why she had been in the woods—naked.  Just “trouble at home.”  Mack didn’t pry and Helga was glad.
	When the bite of the Fall night air got to be a bit much the two returned to the truck where it was warmer.  They snuggled under some covers—spending a few awkward moments undressing.  Mack’s cock was hard and Helga found it—firstly in her hand and then in her mouth!  Mack caressed her ass, squeezed the cheeks and diddled the hole.  Helga devoured the cock pushing away all thoughts of whimsy.  When explosion was eminent Helga stuffed the man’s naughty cock into her cunt.
	After the “release”, Helga slipped into a nice long nap.

	Anna Hanna and Madeline Saraee got the boot in another desert town, behind a convenience store.  Annette and Tosha were found behind a gas station in the next desert town and the boys, Bobby and Toby, found their freedom at a rest stop just outside of  Eighty Acres.
	That left Darla and Lydia.
	Darla, too, wanted to go home—so Mack returned her there.  Afterwards, Helga watched as Mack had his way with Lydia.  Kim filled Helga’s mind; more than missing her Dad, she missed Kim.  Kim was way different than Phoebe.  Phoebe was incredibly smart, a willing submissive, and just different than Kim.  Kim was more outgoing, not bad in the smarts department but not the level of Phoebe.  
	Mack fingered Lydia—fingered-fingered-fingered before pressing his manhood against her sex and humping.  Helga fingered her own sex and replaced Lydia with Kim—and then Phoebe.  What would her Mother think if she “walked in” on Helga and Kim making out?  That could be more explainable.
	“So, what with the kid?”
	Mack shrugged, farted, yawned big and didn’t answer right off.
	“Dump her off somewhere like the others?” Helga persisted.
	“Not exactly.”  Not exactly.

*

A version less perfect
	In a crap shack not far from the Indian Reservation by the San Miquez River, Amelia Vastnatch	stood staring straight ahead—straight thru the man who had abducted her.  Her report to the authorities later was sparse; no electronic mind altering device was used—as far as she knew.  Amelia was a little off in the head, not mentally disturbed but not functioning at peak efficiency.  She was a little slow, didn’t talk much, and had the persona of one who was “serious.”  Amelia was actually just a deep thinker who took some time to think.
	 Behind her was a woman.
	To describe the woman she couldn’t; nor the place she had been taken to.  She had been walking down the alley from her home to her best friend’s home to a birthday party—but she never made it.  Instead…

	The woman behind Amelia, Valerie Twatseeker, spoke lightly in a whisper, “arms up!” Amelia raised her arms and the woman pulled off Amelia’s dark purple tank top.  The man standing before her was tall, maybe six foot but Amelia wasn’t very sure.
	Dark hair, unkempt, no visible tattoos.
	But he DID have his “pee-pee” out.
	“He’s pee-pee?” asked an investigator later.
	Amelia nodded expressionless that it was so, “and he was playing with it.” she added, “like my brothers do.”
	After “playing with his pee-pee” like her brothers did, the Perp stepped up to Amelia pressing his pee-pee against her face.  
	“What did the woman behind you do?”
	Amelia paused, shrugged, and said, “She took my pants down.” 
 	Followed by her panties.
	The woman behind her then did run her hands up and down Amelia’s sides, pat her butt—and while her naughty husband, Armando, humped himself against Amelia’s face the woman fingered Amelia’s pussy.
	“THEN what happened?”
	It was almost a blur to little Amelia; her details were sometimes vague, sometimes explicit.  She didn’t know explicitly what the names of body parts were or sexual identifications; she had brothers, younger and older.  The older ones were casually messing with her but nothing too harsh. 
	Amelia described in some detail how she was lain down on the floor—after the man got his jollies humping her face AND putting his pee-pee into her mouth!  The woman helped by holding Amelia’s head and moving her back and forth (with her husband’s penis in Amelia’s mouth).
	There were four investigators, detectives three and a lone federal agent.  The lone federal agent was a woman.  Amelia’s details of her abduction and subsequent sexploitation were sketchy, then detailed.  All manners of getting the pertinent information from the child had not gone very well and a lot of time was passing.  But what was detailed was confusing and giving way to the fact that there was a lot more going on in the sordid world of perversion than anyone knew.
	Amelia detailed being laid out on the floor of a room that was mostly dark; “it smelled.” she said.  Old wood; a musty smell lingering lifelessly in the room that was not small and not well lit.
	“Where there anyone else in the room that you could see?”
	Amelia didn’t answer right off but interrupted herself later in describing something else—“YES!”

	The man, a Mexican, positioned himself onto little Amelia; his manhood pressing hard against her virgin sex.  He reeked of sweat or booze; there was a lot a thick black hair, facial stubble, and very dark eyes.  He also had a fat nose.
	It was all Amelia Vastnatch could remember.  The rest of what happened to her was a blank.  Whether by natural overload of the young girl’s mind or by some means other—like say a mind altering device wasn’t known or clear.

*

Smells my mother never told me about
	Pig shit.  Pig shit and wild weeds mingling together on wide open spaces on a cool Fall morning.  Quite an experience.  To the West and East lay an great expanse of near nothingness—nothing but scrub brush, tumbleweeds, rocks and boulders, rolling lifeless hills, and sand.  North and South were jutting hills, monuments and long extinct volcanoes. 
	Occupying space on the sparse landscape were a band of Indians, they had a meager existence save for their one casino.  Mostly, for the most part, they maintained their life as they had for hundreds of years.  There were no “teepees” per se; old trailers, mobile homes, regular houses, and plain shacks.  Some modern conveniences—satellite dishes mainly.  Most lived a meager life—most wanted it that way.  Others strove to make a better living; some did by having a go at producing what tourists wanted—blankets, clothing, home grown vegetables; and of course, the ever popular casino.
	There, too, was the small pig farm located in the northwest corner of the Indian property, upwind of the ever popular casino.  On a good day the wind shifted and brought the wondrous smell of wildflowers, wild weeds, and fresh desert air to the folks milling about the lone casino.  On other days the wind shifted the other way or was non-existent at all and thusly the wondrous odor of pig poo hung lifeless in the sullen desert air.
	A few hundred yards from the pig farm was a triple wide mobile home; it actually was two single wide mobile homes sandwiching a 1950s trailer.  An old white 1970s sedan was parked by an older 1960s pickup.  A windmill stood lifelessly still nearby; there was an out building and a sort of fence made of several different materials corralling some weeds, rocks, and sand.  The remains of a chicken coop was also nearby.

	The old military truck bounced along on the questionable dirt road; passenger Helga had a handkerchief wrapped about her face to keep from swallowing the desert sand kicked up by the truck’s tires.  On her lap sat little Lydia with a rag over her face.
	The triple wide home came into view; Mack slowed and scanned the area—a big man came out onto the porch from the sliding glass window of the home.  After a moment and he recognized the military truck, he waved.
	Armando Twatsweeker and his common law wife, Valerie, stepped up to greet Mack.  Armando was both Mexican and American Indian.  A little over six feet in height, long coarse black hair, a few scars, a gold front tooth.  He smiled big chuckling and reeking a little of booze as he gripped Mack’s hand.
	“Goddamn long time!” Armando said with equally thick coarse Mexican and Indian accent.
	“Yeah, I know,” Mack said, “too long.”  The two men hugged and Helga hung lose at the bumper of the truck holding Lydia.
	“You been busy?” stated Armando chuckling some more.
	“Yeah, kinda sorta—same oh—same oh.” Both men chuckled and Helga felt uneasy.
	“How ya doin’, Val?”
	“Same as ever, Mack.” she said smiling brushing long strands of hair out of her face.  She was shorter than Armando, lots more American Indian in her than Armando, but Mexican heritage was there, too.  Thinner build, long arms and legs, and not much in the titty department.
	“What have we here?” she asked looking at Lydia.
	“An offering.” Mack said taking Lydia from Helga and holding her up for Armando and Valerie to see (and gawk at.)
	“Goddamn,” said Armando, “you needs to come by more often!”

	Inside the mushed together mobile home there were articles of clothing—none of which belonged to either Armando or Val.  Helga was a little unsure and a lot uncomfortable—the situation warranted it big time.  She knew the man, Mack, was a big whole hearted pervert.  She knew the same was of Armando, too; but also thought him to be dangerous.
	Armando didn’t take long in accepting Mack’s “offering”—or soiling it.  Little Lydia was taken into a bedroom out of Helga’s sight.  She knew, though, what was going on.  Somehow, when Mack did what Helga knew Armando was doing—it was different.  She had seen Mack spank Lydia, she had seen him cum in the little girl’s mouth and soil her little pussy.  
	  
 	Helga had seen Mack smack the bare asses of Lucy and all the other girls (and boys); she had seen Mack fuck all the girls—pussy, mouth, asshole.  But that was Mack.  Armando Twatseeker was not Mack and Helga had some misgivings about the Mexican-Indian and it made her uneasy.
	Helga copped a seat on the nappy green cushion of the sofa in the extra large living room and rifled thru the magazines strewn about.  On the floor, the sofa, everywhere—panties.  Girls’ panties were strewn everywhere, bras, halters, sundresses.  A knot began to form in her stomach and she wished Mack would give her the nod and they would go.
	Corndogs.  Corndogs and tamales for dinner.  At home, Helga’s mother would have some sort of stew—she made lots of stews using different ingredients each time.  Sometimes, whatever the stew was—it was sometimes best not to be let in on what the “secret” or “special” ingredient was.  There, too, were food items Helga didn’t think she would like—but she was wrong.  Eggplant for instance; surprisingly, it was good.
	There was no eggplant in sight at the Twatseeker home.  Corndogs and tamales and fruit punch.  There, too, was beer—Mack offered one to Helga who took her time sipping it.  She didn’t much care for it.  At home, she had drank a beer with her dad, she had had sips of whiskey and found peppermint schnapps tasting like candy cane pretty enticing.  She didn’t think she would take it up as a habit but “occasionally” on special occasion would be alright.
	“We’ll, uh, stay here the night,” Mack informed Helga, “and move on tomorrow.  Get you home!” he said with a smile.
	Helga couldn’t wait—she was apprehensive, sure; but being on her own wasn’t working out.  Somehow—somehow it would just have to work out.  She thought her parental units to be “understanding”; their daughter was not a miscreant, she didn’t out and out misbehave.  She got into dilemmas at school, was a so-so bully, a tomboy, wasn’t an “A” student, but not a bad kid.  	
	Sighing, she curled up on the crappy sofa and tried to push away some of the dark issues plaguing her mind.  Home.  Despite all—she really-really wanted to be home in her own bed.
	The swamp coolers—three of them—made a lot of noise.  And the heat, the sweltering oppressive heat overwhelmed the unprotected units doing little to soothe overheated bodies.  Not tree one was anywhere near the Twatseeker homestead.  Helga was sleepy but too tired to sleep.  Fraught with worry and concern she moseyed to the bathroom—passing an open room where thru bleary eyes she saw Valerie being naughty.

	There was sufficient lighting from a nightlight and the light from a small fish tank to reveal the woman, Valerie, naked on a large bed smothering her pussy onto the face of Amelia Vastnatch.  Amelia’s arms and legs were tied outward to the bed frame and Valerie was jamming something into the little girl’s cunt.
	Helga was both intrigued and disgusted.  She moved on to the bathroom; finding more articles of “little girl” clothing all over the place.  While she peed, she heard squeaking bed springs from another bedroom.  The interior of the squashed mobile home was cluttered with clothing and furniture; it was unkempt, untidy, messy.  It needed more than sprucing up—it need demolished and burned!
	Anyways, Helga finished her pee and sought out the noise she was hearing.  It was more spying; in the forest, the campgrounds, in and about her new hometown, the city—spying was a “way of life” for Helga Heely.  “I wonder if they teach THAT (spying) in the Scouts!” she wondered.
	There was Mack and Armando sandwhiching some girl who appeared to be about thirteen or so.  “It hurts!  It hurts!” she cried out.  The two naked men paid her no mind and continued double teaming her.  Helga’s mood had changed—before and she had been sexually curious as all get out and a sight like that would not have bothered her.  Over the course of time, though, happenstance being what it was—Helga’s thoughts had waned.
	The hapless girl between the two men began to grunt and make other sounds.  Helga found herself at the open door—fingering herself.  It was then she realized that she was naked.  When had that happened?  She had no recollection of shucking her clothing.
	Wait, after the corndog/tamale dinner she had taken a necessary shower.  In waltzed Mack who said something about the need to “conserve” water and so he joined her—hard cock and all.  Helga didn’t mind.  In the shower she suddenly found herself hugging her benefactor.  Somehow she managed to keep herself from crying.
	No sex.
	Mack maintained a hard-on but maintained some “coolness”, too.
	After the shower, drying off, fussing with her hair, Helga hadn’t put her clothes back on.  It was dark at that time, her stomach rumbled over the corndog and tamale fest, and hover around 100 degree (F); no breeze whatsoever and very-very sultry.  And the heavy odiferous scent of something akin to a dead skunk in the middle of the road fouling up the olfactories (otherwise known to the locals as pig shit) hung lifeless in the sullen air…

*

My mind isn’t what it used to be; also, my mind isn’t what it used to be
	She awoke with a startle—she hated that.  A bit of fright gripped her; stifling a yawn (and a pesky fart) she took in her immediate surroundings.  Clutter, clothing, furniture, a nappy green soiled carpet, old well worn/used furniture, ugly-ugly-ugly curtains and drapes was her scenery.
	Early morning, the scent of pig crap was less for some reason.  All seemed quiet and possibly serene.  Possibly.  Not likely, but possible.  Helga finally let her breath out—along with the long winded pesky fart.  Then she heard telltale sounds she was familiar with.  There was no sign of her benefactor, Mack Thanife.
	Down the hall and there was “activity”—worth investigating.
	A girl about thirteen, not the one from the previous night on the bed, was nude with her hands against the crappy lime green bathroom wall.  Behind her was the Mexican-Indian, Armando, and he was with a serious hard-on seriously intent on getting himself seriously into the girl from behind.  
	The girl had shoulder length ultra curly brown hair that hung down about her face; ski slope perky titties, and a thin all-over tan body.  She made no sounds—other than the common sounds associated with getting one’s asshole pounded.
	Once Armando was “in” and got the rhythm, he gave Helga a sidewise glance, “What?”
	“I gotta pee.” it’s either here or “in the kitchen sink.”
	Armando looked the naked Helga over, glanced to the toilet, then as he seriously got into sodomizing the girl he was boning commenting,
	“There’s another on the other side.”
	Helga paused then backtracked to the living room and down the other hall.  Mack Knott Thanife waltzed in, a little bleary eyed—a little reeking of sweat—sex sweat.  “Morning.” he managed to say.
	Helga peed and farted her reply.
	“Still wanna go home?” he asked.
	“Yep,” she answered, ‘more than ever.’
	Mack nodded, leaned against the sill of the door yawning and mildly playing with his cock.  Helga finished her pee, tooted again, and waited.  Mack scratched his balls then stepped up to the girl on the pot; she leaned back, opened her legs, and Mack proceeded with his morning pee.

	The more she was with Mack—the more longer she was away from home—the more she wanted to BE home.  The girl scouts?  Humph!  She had worried about joining the lame homophobe organization the more likely Military School it was for Helga.
	Mack pissed a hearty morning piss—splashing the urine stream right between Helga’s adequate teenage tits, then cascading down to her barely furry snatch.  After the pee, Helga took the steaming member into her mouth; she clutched his balls and emptied her mind of whimsy.

“God is dead!”—Nietzsche.  “Nietzsche is dead!”—God 
	Before you talk about what you want - appreciate what you have.
	It is better to be hated for what you are--   
 	than to be loved for what you’re not
	The ineffective organization would discuss the question during the board of directors meeting, convene a committee to research the problem, and assign tasks for a root cause analysis, usually without a complete explanation of the problem to those assigned the tasks.  The directors would consider the problem to be above the pay grade of those assigned root cause analysis tasks.  (for the continuation of the Glass Half Full theory)
	“Move it or park it!” yelled Helga at the lumbering farm tractor,
	“Slow as turtle shit!” she berated the lone driver of the tractor as Mack whipped the big truck around the slow moving vehicle.  Helga slumped into the seat, arms crossed, mood soured.  
	“Bad mood, dear?” Mack comically mused.
	“Eat me!” Helga mouthed.  The thirteen year old’s city persona had emerged.  Mack grabbed a gear and tromped on the accelerator sending a fume of black diesel smoke onto the early morning farmer behind him.
	At a little after 9AM,

	It almost seemed foolish, but she knocked on the door.
	Panic filled her; there still was time—time enough to bolt and run for Mack’s army truck.  The sound of footsteps came—Big Bob.  Mack’s noisy truck was almost all the way down the road—if she bolted she could cut across the field and flag him down.
	Strangely, the air was infused with linger wafting of pig poo.
	The door opened.
	There was no breathing.  None.  Then,
	“Hi.”
	Big Bob’s eyes were wide, he wasn’t breathing, either.
	Miriam came up to his side, “HELGA!” she exclaimed giving not much in the way of emotions one way or the other—but that was Miriam.
	Helga stood in ill-fitting itching soiled clothing; her butt itched, she needed a nice long hot bath, then a cold welcomed shower.  And breakfast.  And fresh clean clothes.  Her head examined.  Bitch slapped.  Then a nice nap.
	“Oh, Helga!” cried out her mother.  She hadn’t changed, same voice, same “lost in space” guise.  Big Bob just stood blocking the door, stunned in place.  Miriam, clad in her typical long 1960s era dress for Summer reached passed Bob and took Helga into the house.
	“Where have you been?” Miriam asked in her typical high pitched voice.
	“Yeah, Helga, cripes, we looked everywhere!” Bob said with concern.
	Helga couldn’t really formulate an answer but meagerly mentioned, “sort of got lost.”
	Whether or not either parent was grateful or thankful that their misbegotten child had returned home was not clear.  But that was atypical of Bob and Miriam—Miriam especially seldom showed any emotion and Bob, well, Big Bob only got excited when his team scored on the playing field.
	“Oh, Helga, we were so worried about you!”
	“I’ll, uh, call the Sheriff.” Bob said being somewhat embarrassed.
	Helga gave him a frightened look.
	“We had to call after—well, after a certain time and you were gone.”
	“Being new here,” Bob added, “we figured it best.” He went on to make the call to cancel further searching.  Miriam pulled her daughter further into the house, “Where have you been?” the typical rhetoric questioning of a parental unit began.  Of course, there was genuine concern, too.
	“Just—I don’t really know,” Helga explained loosely, “I-I just went, I just—I just ran across the field here—out there and to the train tracks.”
	Big Bob came slowly back into the living room, made eye contact with his wife.  Helga felt a little uneasy—was she being set up?  Was the Sheriff and his deputies coming to get her—coming to haul her ass off to military school?
	“I’m sorry, Mom.” Helga said blurting out the sentiment—hoping it would help.  She had seldom (if ever) said such a pathetic emotion.  It just wasn’t Helga.  But, there was a time for every sentimental emotion and this was one of those times.

	“Oh, Helga!” exclaimed Miriam.  She hugged her daughter and squeezed her tightly.  “We need to get you cleaned up!” and as Miriam dragged her daughter down the hall to the bathroom—Helga gave her dad a look.  She tried to convey to him, too, “I’m sorry.”
	Bob in typical fashion gave no emotion—he was stone faced and conveyed nothing back to give his daughter any insight on how he felt.
	Miriam continued to go on and on about how worried they had been;
	“We went searching out along all the ditches,” she explained.  Helga scoffed as she peeled off the ill-fitting clothes; typical of her Mother to go searching in least likely places—a roadside ditch.  Well, maybe it wasn’t so unlikely…
	Once in the tub she relaxed, farted, and tried to relax.  There, still was, though—misgivings and regret.  There were unfinished business left to do.  She sighed, dunked her head, came up, and found her Dad at the door leaning against the threshold.
	Miriam looked to Bob, Bob looked nonchalant and impatient.
	Helga felt awkward.  Something was up.  Suppressing a fart Helga barked, “What?”
	Miriam wrinkled her nose; Bob looked to the floor searching out a pattern that wasn’t there.
	“Helga, there’s something you should know.”
	Here it comes…
	“Well, you see, Helga, when I was a little girl, I lived on a farm--”
	“YOU lived on a farm!?” this was news to Helga.  “I thought you always were a city girl?”
	“No, not for the first part of my life.”
	Helga sat in the tub trying to curb another pesky fart feeling a little embarrassed with Big Bob leaning at the door.  Something was up, where was Miriam’s trip back in history leading to?
	“Well, anyways, when I was a little girl I lived on a farm in Kansas, with my brothers and sisters.”
	And?
	There was a slight pause, Big Bob continued to seek out non-existent patterns on the lime green tile floor.  Helga leaned back in the tub, wiggled her toes, and released her pestering fart.  Sloshing the water sort of hid the offense—but then again she didn’t care.
	“Well, as it turns out,” Miriam went on, “when any of us—messed up, we got taken outside behind the woodshed.”
	This bit of news got Helga’s attention.  “Oh?”

	Although she sort of kind of already knew what went on “behind the woodshed” she had to ask, “So what happened?”
	Miriam pursed her lips, sighed, clutched her hands together,
	“Well, my Dad, your Grandfather--”
	“Did more than spank.” Bob butted in to help explain.
	Helga licked her lips, sat up in the tub wrapping her arms about her knees—mouth open.  Then, she too, pursed her lips as the sudden realization of what happened filled her mind.  “Oh.”
	Miriam nodded, “Yes, it’s true, more than once.”
	“Just you or--”
	“Oh, all, ALL of us got it—behind the shed.”
	Helga stared at her Mother, ‘What?’ she knew but she didn’t know.
	“She means, other than a bare ass spank they got a bone up the ass!”
	Helga gulped.  That sort of explained things—sort of.
	“Oh, it wasn’t all bad,” Miriam went on; she sort of smiled and had a glazed look on her face.  She was the epitome of a 1960s Flower Child, short frizzy reddish blond hair (strawberry blond); lots of baubles of this and that on her wrists and dangling from her ears; long sun dresses; and that “glazed look” conveying “Hey, how are you, I’m stoned!”
	Helga regarded her Mother as one who either needed to stop taking drugs or start doing some.  She was the quintessential “airhead” without being fully blond.  On reflection, Helga saw her Mother as “unique.”  She was and wasn’t the typical American housewife—she did the typical baking of cookies for Helga’s schoolmates; she had been on the PTA in the city; and was an activist going to protests of this and that nature.
	But she wasn’t “motherly” to Helga.  But Helga wasn’t so “daughterly” in return; she was rough, gruff, and rude.  She bonded with her Dad more than her Mother and the bonding with Big Bob was out of necessity more than anything else.  Miriam didn’t understand tractor pulls, drag racing, hunting, skydiving, or any sports period.
	Anyways,
	“We all misbehaved at one time or another,” Miriam began, “some of us more than others!” she almost giggled.  Almost.
	“How old were you when you first—got it “up the butt?”” prodded Bob.
	Miriam thought half a second—“Nine.” She said almost proudly.
	Helga blurted, “Nine!?  You were nine!?”
	Miriam nodded that it was so.  “Oh, I messed up before; run off with this boy, a dog, a goat; talked back to my teacher, got uppity, caught smoking, this and that--” all before age nine.

	And all before “age nine” Miriam Putinu merely got a butt spanking.  Usually in the house, once at the school, once in the barn, usually in the house.  Sometimes she wore pants, sometimes she wore a sun dress or something like—and sometimes she wore underwear!  Regardless, the spanking (before age nine) was usually her body pressed up against her Daddy’s body, his leg, and walloped good.
	Sometimes it was across the knee.
	Sometimes across her bed.
	Usually with a bare hand.
	Sometimes with a belt.
	Sometimes her brothers and sisters were present.
	Usually she stayed straight (good) for a couple of days.
	Sometimes she managed to stay out of trouble for a couple of weeks.
	After age nine, though—
	“Oh, dear,” Miriam said; her face scowled and she struggled with how to explain the next bit.  
	“What about your brothers and sisters?” Bob continued to prod.  By then, Helga knew that her Dad knew about Miriam and her family.  Helga knew the numerous brothers and sisters; Aunts and Uncles.  They lived all over the country coming back to the little Kansas farm on special occasions and holidays.
	“They got it, too.” Miriam said.
	Helga rolled her eyes—the obvious was overlooked by Miriam—again.  Big Bob shook his head and Helga laid herself back into the tub.  She sighed and felt much-much better.  Food would make the coming home better and then a long snooze in her own bed would triple that.
	Where was Mack by now?  How many had he “acquired?”
	She thought of little Lydia and the Mexican-American.
	She thought of Jon Sabast the Christian biker and his granddaughters.
	Paul and Gee from campsite number seven.
	Campsite Werthaheckahwee and all the rest of the forest Helga had spied on she thought of lightly.  Mack Knott Thanife she thought of a lot.  Miriam, sitting on a wooden stool between the old country style sink and the bathtub, seemed in a daze as she traipsed down memory lane.  Big Bob had grown tired of standing and leaning and had taken a squat on the toilet—lid down.
	“All her brothers and sisters got a trip behind the woodshed--”
	“And humped up the butt?” Helga asked for clarity.
	“Yep, along with the spanking, they got doinked.”
	“Damn.”

	“Uh, there’s more, too.” Bob said to his daughter.
	Miriam stared up to the ceiling, nodded saying, “Oh, my, yes.”
	Helga rolled her eyes then looked to her Dad for clarity (again.)

*

Putinu Farm
	Peaches.  Peaches and corn.  Peaches, corn, pears.  Peaches, corn, pears, and a variety of veggies.  Just off of Interstate 35 on Old 55, southwest of Ottawa in Franklin County, in the area the town of Williamsburg, the Putinu Farm made its way in life sustain the populace with the fruits (and veggies) of their labors.
	And there was no need for hired help—along with the parental units there were the grandparents living on the farm, too.  along with the parental units and the grandparents, there were the seven children.  Seven.  Not one, not two, not four or five—seven.
	Adam was the oldest, then there was Mabel a scant year behind.
	Arion came nextly, then Alton.  Then Miriam and lastly Margret.
	Lots of work to be had on the farm; lots of work.  Lots of responsibilities.  And if you didn’t do one of those “responsibilities”—you got a whoopin.  On a farm, well, there was farm life.  There was time to play but the Putinu was a working farm—not large crops of hay, corn, or other stables for to thrive a nation but to fill the hands of the traveling public.  Peaches were the mainstay crop, but corn and pears were there, too; along with the veggies.  Lots of tender care was needed for some of the crops grown; the Putinu family had lots of free hands.
	Of course, with that many hands being the offspring of Adair and Marion, the parental units and subunits of the senior Putinus, mischief was the name of the day (and night!)  As a wee child, Miriam’s mischief was mostly skipping family work for play; skipping school for play; venturing to other local farms and even going so far as to travel out to the interstate some miles away.
	Usually, as usual, those “infractions” got Miriam a butt busting.  Usually it was pressed up against her Dad and walloped good—usually in the living room or barn or wherever the infraction was heard and/or learned.  Sometimes across the lap of her Dad, sometimes across her bed.  Most spankings were bare hand to Miriam’s ass that was sometimes clad in pants or summery dress.  Sometimes there were panties worn under those pants and dresses.  Sometimes she went “commando” like her brothers did.

	Miriam knew her Grandpa drank moonshine with his old war buddies.
	She knew her Dad also drank but not to the extent of getting shit faced drunk.  Brother Adam smoked pot.  Arion and Alton snuck moonshine to drink, too.  Both Adam and Mabel liked to sneak out of the house and not come back until almost sunrise!
	Miriam knew who broke the very expensive and irreplaceable vase.
	She took the blame and got a bare ass butt busting for that one.
	The missing money from the cookie jar she knew who took it.
	She knew brother Alton fudged his grades to make them better.
	Adam was helping Mabel in her essay writing for school—and had basically written the whole thing (but as it turns out the teacher got wise as she remembered Adam’s writing from a previous year.)
	Lots of stuff Miriam knew about her parents, grandparents, and especially siblings.  She also knew about the sex.  Of course she knew about her parents “gettin’ it on”; they could be heard sometimes throughout the house (and it wasn’t just the squeaky bed springs!)
	 There was also “gettin’ it on” among the Putinu children; lots of combinations with so many choices; often, it was Miriam and Mabel “fooling around” under the covers.  Each Putinu child had their own bed but there was often a lot of bed swapping going on along with sharing when the weather was bad or other circumstances.  Fingering was the mainstay; Miriam and older sibling, Mabel, often pounded their pussies together.  No oral.
	The boys, however, were into themselves more than the girls—literally.  Oral AND anal were their mainstays.  In the beginning, Miriam didn’t know any different than what the boys (and her own sisters) were doing was not the norm and lingered on illicit and immoral.
	Besides, it was fun!

Patschkieing (my Jewish friends know what this means.  For you goys (non-Jews) look it up!)
	And, of course, along with the girls fooling with themselves and the boys fooling with themselves—there, too, was the boys fooling with the girls and the girls fooling with the boys.  But on a farm and with multiple siblings—things like that were bound to happen.  AND—it was sort of kind of the norm.
	And Miriam saw it all.

	Miriam was more aware of her brothers and sisters shenanigans than she was of her Daddy and what went on “behind the woodshed.”  Fingering herself and fingering her sisters was one thing—and getting fingered by them, too; but being fingered and rubbed on by her brothers?  Wow!
	Mostly it was oldest boy, Adam, and oldest girl, Mabel, who found special time to be together.  (Helga then learned where she got her “spying” knack from!)  It wasn’t just in the dark of day that Adam and Mabel had their special time together, but in broad spanking daylight, too!  And Miriam learned that spanking wasn’t all that bad—one time she saw Adam walloping Mabel’s ass and she apparently liked it!
	It did something for Miriam, too!
	One instance and it was Adam and Mabel in the family barn a little after midnight.  In the loft the two siblings engaged in incestuous acts only part of which Miriam saw—‘cause she had been sharing a bed with sister Margret and they were into fingering themselves!  What Miriam DID see was sister Mabel ON TOP OF brother Adam!  Being dark, though, Miriam still didn’t get to see much.
	But not to despair—there were brotherly-sisterly engagements in the daytime, too.  Those were more enlightening if not entertaining.  In the daylight, Miriam could see up close and personal a brotherly love tool going into a sisterly crevice.
	Another instance; in the evening type time, after a long day of hard working, the Putinu children found themselves in the barn; Mabel at the door being the guard.  It was a safe bet that the parental units times two were settled in the living room watching their favorite evening program and would not venture outside let alone to the barn.
	Adam had Miriam on her hands and knees plowing the road up tuchis (took-is) while she herself slurped the schlong of brother Alton.  Meanwhile, brothers Arion and Avner double teamed Margret (who was nine at the time.)
	For her thirteenth birthday, all four brothers took their turn schlepping their salamis into Miriam’s pussy.  She got a bare ass spank from the boys, too.
	“Wow.” said Helga interrupting; she had no idea about her Mother’s family.  They all seemed so normal at the family reunions.  Oy!
	“There’s more.” Bob said.
	Helga couldn’t wait.
	Miriam sighed, nodded, and continued.

	Even before age nine, Miriam knew what was going on “behind the woodshed.”  Before age nine she was fingered out by her brothers and sisters.  All four brothers took turns humping ON her with only an occasional oral job.  Miriam’s brothers had good shmeckle each with oldest brother, Adam, having about the best.
	A couple of months after turning nine years young, missing money found its way into Miriam’s dresser; a broken window was blamed on a wayward ball thrown from Miriam’s hand, and a mix up at the family’s fruit stand resulted in a customer getting shortchanged and Miriam “let it go” saying she would make it up to the next customer.  Remember, she’s nine.
	The end result was Daddy Adair Putinu took Miriam behind the woodshed.  It wasn’t her first trip “behind the woodshed” but it WAS her first time having her panties lowered.  It didn’t dawn on Miriam until later in life that most times when “taken out to the woodshed” she and her sisters were clad in a dress of some sort.  Not always, but mostly.  In a dress outfit or skirt, Mabel, Miriam, and Margret lowered their own panties and bent over some usually their knees.
	Not always.
	Sometimes—many times, they gripped the stone wall that was behind the woodshed.  They were positioned with their bare ass pooched out.  Most times while jockeying into position to be spanked their panties lowered got even lower and got to their ankles—and then off.
	“Spread your legs.” Daddy Adair would tell them.  The girls would spread their legs “and Daddy would smooth his hand over us—over us, our-our ass—bare ass.”
	Helga’s eyes bulged.  ‘Sonofabitch!’
	Wait!  There’s more!
	After the bare ass feel there was the swat.  Sometimes the swat was Daddy Adair’s bare hand.  Sometimes it was a belt—depending on the offense.  Unlike in the South where a “switch” was used for disciplining measures, no switch was used on the Putinu children.
	In lieu of a “switch”, though, Daddy Adair sodomized his children.
	Miriam had already been boned in the butt by her brothers so taking her Daddy’s shmeckle was not a big deal except for the fact that it was her Daddy’s schmeckle (Hebrew for penis).
	And taking her Daddy’s schmeckle was different than that of her brothers’; she couldn’t explain it but it was “different.”  Like her brothers, though; Daddy Adair “reached around” and fingered out Miriam’s pussy, fondled her tits, and repeated until he orgasmed.

	Sometimes Miriam, and her sisters, regarded their Daddy as shmendrik and what happened to them was a shande.  He wasn’t a schmuck but sometimes an asshole.  But, the Putinu children never went hungry, they had clothes, they had bicycles, they had a lot of liberties—providing they did their chores and helped out at the family farm store.
	One night, Miriam tried to sneak into her upstairs bedroom.
	Problem was, though, she was a little drunk, missing her panties, a little drunk, a lot clumsy, and Daddy knew she was out.  After falling thru the window knocking over the night stand between the beds she gathered herself, stood up, and saw her Daddy and Momma standing at the open bedroom door with just about all her siblings standing about watching.
	“Hiya, Pop!” Miriam said a little high on some whacky tabbacy and moon juice.  
	“Let’s go.” Daddy Putinu said with a calm even voice.
	It seemed like a long-long trek out to behind the woodshed.
	Once there, “Get ‘em down!” said a very stern and pissed off Adair.
	Miriam wavered and hiked up her dress, bent over, revealing the fact to her pissed off Dad that she had nothing “take down.”
	Miriam went quiet then, her eyes “glazed over” as if she was still stoned from that night so long ago.
	“What happened, then?” Helga asked sort of kind of already knowing.
	“Same as always,” Bob supplied, “she got doinked—boinked; a lot of shep nachas going both ways.”
	“Uhm , say Dad, where do YOU come in?”
	Bob furled his lips, sighed, bowed his head, “Well, who do you think gave her the whacky tabaccy and moon juice!”
	Oh.

	Is there more?
	Well, yeah—
	“Soooo, Grandpa did you—in the ass?”
	There was a meek to meager smile of reflection.  She nodded.  Seemingly, it wasn’t all that bad.  Helga mused; her Mother had open willing sex with her brothers, sisters, AND Daddy!  Wow.  What an eye opener.  Miriam fondly (fondly?) recalled after smoking, lying about smoking, and trying to pass the offense off on to one of her brothers, she was once more walked out to the woodshed.  She was fourteen at the time; wearing a very loose summer dress she just pulled the whole thang off, lowered her panties, kicked the undies off her ankles and “assumed the position” with hands on the stone wall.

	Daddy Adair smoothed his hands all over her teenage ass; at fourteen—Miriam had a twelve year old’s body.  Her breasts were small, pint sized, body trim and slim, arms and legs normal size and not as long and limber as older sister Mabel.
	After some feeling out of Miriam’s ass, Daddy Adair didn’t swat her firstly as was customary but pressed his body against her.  Was he nude?  Miriam couldn’t recall that bit of tidbit information.  She did feel his penis against her—along with his hands going up and down her sides, cupping her breasts, then “reaching around” to finger out her teenage pussy.
	“He moaned.” Miriam said reflecting.
	“Moaned?” Helga asked curiously.
	Miriam nodded—she seemed so out of it.
	Daddy Adair “moaned” as he pre-spanked his daughter, his cock went right up between her soft warm cheeks, his fingers went everywhere about her breasts and vagina.  Miriam fingered herself, tweaked her nipples, then stood her stance leaning into the stonewall with her ass pooched outward so as her Daddy could have better accessibility to her from behind.
	Helga glanced at her Dad, he had no expression on his face and continued to stare at the floor—and sported a woody!  Helga could just detect the outline of his boner inside his trousers.  What was he hard about?  His wife retelling of her farm life experience or his naked teenage daughter in the tub?
	Miriam didn’t continue her story but Helga could guess.  She got boinked good and how.  She sighed, Miriam did, smiled and was no longer a part of the bathroom scene.  She got up from the stool and left the bathroom.  She did that—often; just got up from wherever she was sitting—or even in the midst of a conversation and wandered off somewhere.
	“She musta done some good shit back then!” Helga mouthed.
	“Not all drugs, she liked that moon juice, too!”
	Helga giggled then leaned back in the tub.
	Bob moved to the stool, “You doing better, now?” he asked out of concern which was a mindblower ‘cause Bob seldom ever was concerned for Helga’s well being.
	“Yeah, but I could go for one of your bitchin’ grilled cheese sandwiches!”
	Bob smiled, he didn’t cook very often; he did hellacious barbeques, made huge batches of chili, and made the best damn grilled cheese sandwiches ever!
	“How ‘bout a milkshake, too?”
	“That’d be nice, Dad.”
	Bob nodded, gave Helga’s nakedness a slight glance then left the bathroom.  Helga let rip a narly butt blast.  Then she sighed—
	“Damn.” The shit she learned about her Mother!  Wow!  The nifty info scored high on the Weird Shit o’meter. 

*

How I boned your mother
	“So, I thought you met Mom in college.”
	Big Bob shook his head, “No, it was a little before that.”
	So why the lie?
	“Well, it’s complicated.” better write this down…
	“We did a lot of fooling around,” Bob said trying to explain, “your Mom and me.” A long pause suggesting there was more to the “fooling around” than just merely stating so.  Sweating, gulping for air, lip licking all were signs of embarrassment.
	“And?” Helga persisted.
	Bob did this thing with his lips—some people wrinkle their noses, Big Bob wrinkled his lips.
	“Well, it wasn’t just with your Mom.”
	Ah.
	“Mabel, too?” Helga surmised.
	Bob nodded.  But wait!  There’s more!
	“And Margret.” he added.  The youngest Putinu child.
	“And Mom found out?”
	“She was there.”
	Ah.  Wow.  
	But Bob was still holding back.
	“Soooo, what else?”
	“Well, there’s a couple of things.”
	“Like what?” curious little thing, aint she?
	“Well, couple years before high school, I mean, before she was out of high school (making her about sixteen years young) and she sort of came up pregnant.”
	Helga’s eyes bulged.  “Holy shit, YOU knocked up Mom!”
	“Appears so.” Of course, there were four other swinging dicks on the farm that could have done the deed, too.
	“Soooo, what happened?”
	Bob went silent then.  Helga guessed.
	“Oh.” 

	“Uh, uhm, hmmm—do you remember the time we were at that farm, the petting zoo—farm place?”
	“In Topeka?”
	“Yeah, that’s the one.”
	“Yeah, I remember, what of it?”  typical Helga response.
	“Well, remember when your Mom—er, remember how she was, how she reacted when you wanted to bring home that goat?”
	“Yeah, I wanted to name it Quizno!”
	“Yeah, well, your Mom has an issue with goats.”
	“I sort of figured that out—but don’t know why.”
	“Well, there’s a reason.”
	“She get bitten by a goat?”
	“Not exactly.”
	No, not exactly “bitten”.
	In the early afternoon of a particular day when just about all the Putinu family was elsewhere doing “whatever”; Miriam found herself alone in the house.  One of her favorite things to do when “alone in the Putinu” household was to go romping naked.  So she did.  It was fun to go to all the rooms and prance about doing some sort of silly dance; fart openly, then raid the pantry, refrigerator, and Dad’s private stock—as well as Grandpa’s private moon juice (moonshine)!
	Then it was time for some of that whacky tabaccy—otherwise commonly known as marijuana.  None, of course, was ever stowed in the house.  The barn, however, was always a place to find hidden “stash.”  Usually the Putinu boys had a stash here, a stash there.  The girls knew where the stashes were and were welcomed to it.
	Slipping on only a summery tank dress, a slightly stoned already Miriam made way out to the barn.  In the loft there was a support beam for the loft floor that had a cut out section where an unused lantern hung.  The stash was sometimes IN the lantern but most often in the cache.
	Lighting up in the barn was a no-no cause a wayward spark could catch the damn place on fire—and that would be bad.  After securing a sufficient amount of Happy Smoke, enough for one good fat doobie, Miriam struck off to one of the outbuildings by the water tower.
	There she found the spot already occupied by sister Mabel.
	Sister Mabel, eighteen at the time, was naked.
	Sister Mabel, eighteen, last year in high school, on her way to an Ivy League school, was naked, on her hands and knees—getting boned by Gabo.
	“Gabo?”
	“Gabo the goat.”
	“Oh shit!”
	Wow.
	Miriam was drawn into the wicked world of family farm life with livestock.  There was no “Oh my God!” statement, it was a speechless stare.  Mabel shot up fearful that it was parental unit.  Then thankful that it was only Miriam.  Of course, a brother would be a scare, too.
	Already, though, Mabel and Miriam were carpet baggers—er, that is to say they cunt munched one another.  Spanking, peeing on each other, and a whole lot of finger banging.  Youngest Putinu got a fare amount of family play, too.  Usually, though, it was Mabel and Miriam who carried on with one another—pussy pounding, jamming various cock-like veggies into their hot teenage twats; sitting on the washer during spin cycle; and other forms to please their carnal cunts.
	Miriam never dreamed of getting it on with the livestock.
	Along with the goat, there were two other goats, pigs, hogs, chickens, geese, ganders, mini horseys and regular sized horses.  When Mabel stood up from being on all fours, Gabo stood back bleating the way goats bleat and Miriam focused her eyes right on Gabo’s pink cock protruding from its sheath.
	Being slightly already stoned, Miriam was easily guided into romping with the family pet—stroking its goat dick was only one way.  After toking on the fat doobie she was more easily swayed in spreading her legs for Gabo the Goat.  Gabo the goat needed no coercion as he had already been well schooled in the fine art of cunnilingus.
	It freaked Miriam’s mind.
	When Mabel guided and coerced Gabo into dicking Miriam—it blew her mind wide open.  Gabo went into the teenage girl and fucked her into oblivion.  It was the most sensational act ever!  Almost.
	“Almost?”
	By then, Big Bob had a bigger erection than before.  Helga had had enough of soaking in the tub and got out.  As she stood nakedly before her confused and befuddled Dad, dripping wet and in a quandary, Bob firstly checked over his shoulder then merely casually “whipped it out.”
	Helga stared at the pulsing prong.  No EMAD was in use.  As Bob began to stroke his favorite organ, Helga went to her knees.  Bob checked over his shoulder once more than presented himself straight forward to his naked wet daughter.  
	Helga took the offering, stroked it, squeezed it, loved it.
	Bob reeled as inch by inch his manhood once more sailed into Helga’s mouth.  “Ahhhhh!” he groaned.  ‘that’s better!’

	After the cum blast in her mouth, Helga stood and lightly fingered her pussy.  She wanted to say a lot of things to her Dad, “I’m sorry” being one of them.  The sentiment was there but not the ability to apologize.  She also wanted to say and make him understand that she had not in no way used the minding device on him.
	She also wanted to hug him but it wasn’t there.  They weren’t huggers.  They hugged “now and then” but not often.  Now the awkward moment came.
	Slowly and did Helga move to her Dad.  She embraced him, squeezed him, and almost broke down.  Big Bob’s arms remained down at his sides for a moment, then he embraced his odd daughter and returned the love.
	“I’m sorry, Dad.” Helga managed to finally blurt.  She trembled and the tears began to run.  Clinging to her Dad she began to bawl—something she hadn’t done in years!
	Bob held his daughter all the tighter whispering “it’s alright, Helga, let it go.”
	After a scant few minutes of hugging and bawling,
	“Alright, enough of that crap.”
	Helga turned wiping her eyes,
	“Helga, I love you!”
	It was quick and with a lot of force to get it out.
	‘Holy shit!’ Helga whirled around, bleary eyes bulging, “What?”
	“Listen, Helga, I-I don’t often (ever) say it, but-but I-I love you.”
	Helga was speechless.  It was one thing to learn about her Mom having relations with a goat—it was quite another to find out—to hear out, that her usually gruff Dad loved her.  Well, she knew he did—he just wasn’t the type to say it out loud.
	With the confirmation out, Bob was more embarrassed than ever; of course, what a scene to compare—Big gruff Bob Heely standing in the family bathroom with his pecker dripping cum sticking out of his pants, his thirteen year old skinny naked daughter standing before him!
	Bob sighed.
	Helga farted.
	Turning her attention to the bathtub, “Guess I’d better drain this—bla-bla-bla--” something something.  There was a knack to unstopping the stopper—Helga didn’t have it or know it or something.  She fussed with it and griped, “Stupid fucking thing is broken!” she bitched.
	“It not broken, Helga,” Big Bob said reclaiming his gruff deep voice, “you’ve got to twist it first then pull.” And as he gave his instructions to his naked fidgeting daughter—he stepped up to her nakedness and…

	With one foot on the tub, striking a pose bent over into the tub, naked Helga got boned.  Daddy Bob gently eased his mammoth Gentile cock into her hot to fuck cunt.  With his hands on her hips his monstrous schlong schlepped nicely while Helga fingered herself.

*

Someday I’ll tell you about the time…
	Ernie Coldsocks had a way about him; mostly mischievous.  Busting windows was one thing—when he was a kid.  Letting the horses out of their corals, letting the chickens out of the coop, letting the air out of the police chief’s police car…
	Burning dog shit (in a paperbag)—check.
	Pulling the fire alarm at school-----check.
	Pulling the fire alarm at church-----check.
	Adding food coloring to the church’s baptismal water—check
	Turning street signs around; putting a stuffed Halloween character with pumpkin head on tractor and sending the running tractor down mainstreet—check.  One prank after another with only some being attributed to Ernie.  Bobby Heely was in on some of those pranks, too.
	Smoking, smoking doobies, drinking wine and moon juice was something the pair did and did often.  They also spied on their community neighbors and got into “other” assorted mischief.
	Such as?
	Such as taking advantage of a teenage girl who got bump from her horse.  In midsummer, Bob and Ernie roamed the countryside of Franklin County, in the area the town of Williamsburg, the boys sought adventure and were not often denied.
	One such “adventure” was seeing the teenage girl, Amanda Kissback.  She was sixteen—and not a “sweet” sixteen, either; she was a bit of a snob since she was chosen championship horseman at the local fair-rodeo.  She also competed and placed well in other equestrian events, had her own horse and special trailer (but didn’t have a driver’s license!)  
	Unfortunately, she was pretty.  She had an amazing smile, bouncy titties, fantastic hair, incredible eyes, the works.  There was a personality with the girl, she didn’t used to be a snob.  Ernie swore that at a social gathering of their peers he heard her fart, “sounded like a horse!” too.
	Anyways, there she was trotting across the countryside like she owned it (and part of it she (well, her family) did.  Something spooked her horse, Moonchaser, and he promptly bucked the snobby uppity girl off.

	The boys hot footed over to where she had fallen to find her unconscious. 
	“Sonofabitch!” quipped Bob.
	Ernie said nothing but looked quickly around, then sneered and leerd.
	“Man, I’ve always wanted to do this bitch!”
	Bob had reservations; sure he was a prankster, but taking advantage of a girl unconscious?
	Ernie had no reservation and had begun getting Amanda’s boots off, then her tight-tight jeans.  He paused momentarily as he (and Bob) gawked at the girl clad in lavender colored panties.
 	“Shooo-eee,” chortled Ernie, “aint she sumptin!”
 	Bob was speechless.
 	Ernie went on to strip off the girl’s simple blouse and bra before sliding down her panties.  Another pause and Ernie shucked his clothes quickly.  Bob checked the area, located the wayward horse, then “whipped it out” to masturbate while Ernie mounted Amanda and put himself into her sex.
	“Son’bitch!” the sixteen soon-to-be-seventeen year old smirked, “this bitch is tight!” she wasn’t a virgin but her young teenage cunny was superior in snugness.
	Bob lusted and taking Amanda’s hand had her please him all the while Ernie was being pleased.

	The summer sun was hot and out in the middle of a vast field with waist high grass the air was a little on the muggy side.  After the boys had had their way with Amanda, including boning her in the ass and double teaming her, face fucking, tweaking her nipples to finally get a sign of life out of her, the boys dressed her then fled to the nearest creek to cool off.
	Amanda awoke minutes later—busting headache, bloody bump on the back of her head, and a little “sticky.”  She looked around wildly, possibly was aware of that “fresh fucked” feeling but seeing no one around to be a likely culprit, the girl woozily got to her horse and rode off.
	After sufficiently cooled off, Bob and Ernie struck off to Cooter’s place—FYI, Cooter was a local moonshiner and had himself a nice hardworking still.  Beings as it was a Wednesday, Cooter wouldn’t be home but downtown in a poker game with Bob’s Dad, Ernie’s Dad, and everyone else’s “dad” in town.  The still was a little remote and if you didn’t know where it was you were lost.
	The boys helped themselves to the fresh made mash and that was that.
	(for that day…)

	Then there was the time when delivering some of Cooter’s mash to a neighboring state the following summer the boys narrowly avoided a tornado.  Too bad a nearby campground didn’t.  The tornado kinda-sorta relocated the campground—all over the place.  Bob and Ernie slipped around to see what they could find in the way of loot.
	Not much in the way of “loot” but they did find a young girl wandering about the woods kind of dazed.  She was pretty, blond, flat chested, and all of about seven years young.  Short blue pants, a simple top, and a couple of bumps on her noggin.  She was easy pickin’s  and the boys picked her—up and off to deeper into the woods where behind a huge boulder the boys stripped the girl down—Ernie did, Bob looked around for security sake.
	It wasn’t Bob’s thing to mess with such a little girl; Ernie had no problem messing with such a little girl—Bob watched, though.  With Ernie laying down, the scoundrel positioned the dazed Amber Hugbottom on top of him—specifically her bald poon against his cock.  Then, with his hands clamped on her young ass he grinded her to him.  meanwhile, Bob jacked off onto her ass.
	There was some decency—some, the boys dressed the little girl after molesting her to their whim and brought her back to the thrashed campground.  People were just getting around, sirens wailed in the distance—the place was going to be inundated with police and fire.  Probably a good as time as any to amscray and high tail it back home.
	Probably, but Ernie and Bob were still in the throes of mischief.
	For their next bit; Amber’s Mom was found.  She faded in and out of consciousness and was way out of it; which was perfect for the two miscreants from Kansas.  Didn’t take long for Ernie to get the woman in her early 30s naked.   His cock was pounding hard and he took another minute to lustful lust after the woman, Barbara.  Then he was on her and then in her.  Bob held Barbara’s daughter on his lap lightly molesting her—fingering her (with his cock against her naked sex, too!)
	
	Spying was one thing the boys excelled in; they learned stuff about their neighbors and community that way.  Most times they spied on folks who were “helping themselves” to a neighbors stuff; the deacon’s wife “visiting” a sick parishioner—for four hours!  People they knew doing stuff they shouldn’t to other people was just one element to the boys’ spying.  There, too, was the people doing stuff they shouldn’t to other than other people.

	Huh?
	One afternoon, summer time, the boys tempted fate on going into an underground cement waterway.  It was for the county farmers, an overflow and transfer pipe that was 20 feet down and then some 1,000 feet across to an outlet.  There was water at the bottom of the entrance but it was deemed to be only knee deep.
	Something else got the boys’ attention (thankfully!)  A horse whinny redirected the boys; they slinked across the landscape finding Amanda Kissback with her horsey, Moonchaser—and they were both naked!  Amanda’s sixteen year old body was even more incredible than before.  Her skin was very tan—all over!  And glistened from the layer of sunscreen she had on, too.  Other than being super snobby, she was super fine!
	The girl loved her horse—and how!  In an area where the field butted against a stand of trees there was a sublime area that Amanda supposed to be secure, the naked teen loved herself all over Moonchaser.  Then she squatted down and—and—and took holt of Moonchaser’s schlong.
	She did!
	A simple stroke here—a loving stroke there, the girl purposely got her horse “excited.”  Along with prancing, Moonchaser twitched all over and got a significant hard-on.  Amanda squeezed the equine member then began kissing it.  She did!
	More stroking—more kissing—more mind blowing actions.
	The girl actually did more than simple cock kissing; she sucked, too.
	Nothing, however, compared or was mind blowing enough for what the girl did nextly.  Laying her naked self out on a grassy mound that was “JUST RIGHT” height, Amanda Kissback positioned herself under Moonchaser and glided his massive fuck stick against her sex!
	“Holy fucking ass crackers!” exclaimed Ernie.
	Moonchaser was aware of the boys’ hiding in the tall lifeless grass, Amanda was too absorbed in her ultra naughty doings to know.  The girl was seriously into her horse—or he was into her.  Just the head of the equine cock, but that was enough to seriously blow the minds of the two spies.  Strangely, though, the pair didn’t bust the girl right then and there.
	After a few minutes and the girl crawled out from under her horse, spread her legs and peed STANDING UP!  She rubbed her ass, SPANKED herself, then stooped down to take Moonshine’s cock and suck it some more before crawling up onto the magnificent steed and hump his bare back.  It was an awesome sight to be sure—the naked teen on top of her horse, legs draped over it’s sides, her ass pooching outward being kissed by the hot summer sun.
	Then there was the time Ernie had it out with his family, all of them, especially his dad.  Ernie had a lot of family; aunts, uncles, cousins, and so on.  At seventeen, Ernie wanted to separate himself from his family, he was the third of five brothers and three sisters, third to the last.  His separation was to join up in the military service, a junior member at a nearby air force base.  He was good with his hands—building motors, engines, generators, that sort.  
	Thing was, though, his dad was not going to sign a paper releasing him from family obligations to let him be on his own and go join the air corp.  Just wasn’t going to happen.  And part of that “just wasn’t going to happen” was due in part to nosey Aunt CoraBeth.  Aunt CoraBeth lived close by—too close.  She was always meddling into the family and was a known busy body of the town—a leader in the church gossip sessions, a member of the governing board of the local school and so on.
	Anyways, CoraBeth and Ernie had it out one afternoon on the porch of the Coldsocks family.  The woman was too well schooled, tall, fussy, pretentious and etc.  In the beginning, Ernie’s dad was swayed by his son’s arguments about joining the junior air corps; it seemed like a good idea and would help the boy in his pursuit of manhood—plus it would possibly straighten his lazy/mischievous ass out!
	Then CoraBeth stepped in and spoiled it all by swaying Ernie’s dad the other way convincing him that Ernie was too young and needed to complete high school bla-bla-bla.
	Ernie’s dad was convinced and wouldn’t sign the papers releasing Ernie from the family and it thoroughly pissed the boy off—so they argued on the family porch and that brought the dad in and they all argued and Ernie said some bad—very bad things to CoraBeth stating what she was—a nosey busybody.
	Ernie’s dad slapped Ernie so hard he was flung off the porch and in a rage got his butt stomped and whooped right there and then—afterwards, the dad signed the papers and Ernie was off—well, he crawled off.
	But wait!  There’s more!
	After crawling off, Ernie found the air force wishy-washy on his enlisting at seventeen despite his dad releasing him.  He figured that fucking nosey bitch CoraBeth had talked to them, too.  With no money and no job, he decided to go back home and suck it up.  However, along the way home—
	A familiar car was seen just off the windy road.  Not a lot of woods were about, but lots of hills and bushes and vast-vast fields.  Ernie slowed and pulled off opposite the familiar car.  Aunt CoraBeth stood by her car.

	The left rear tire was flat.
	Dressed in a dress, the tall woman was at the mercy of some good hearted passerby to help her in her need.  She had the implements of what was needed to change the tire but the woman had never changed a tire in her life!
	Ernie and CoraBeth stared at one another; then Ernie sighed and got out, said something like “got a flat?” which was obvious.  He proceeded to take the flat tire off and put the spare on.  CoraBeth stammered and tried to make conversation.  All was going well until she began to explain her stance on young Ernie’s desire to join the military and his need to remain with the family another year.
	She just went on and on and on about it.
	There was no apology about the scofflaw on the family porch.
	And she just kept going on and on asserting herself as some sort of matron in charge of Ernie’s life decisions.  Ernie was getting pissed.  He had been calm and was willing to “let it go” between her and him—but the woman wouldn’t shut up.
	With the final spin of the lug wrench to the lug nut—Ernie let fly the four-handled implement slinging it upside his aunt’s head shouting “SHUT UP!”
	CoraBeth stumbled backwards with a sincere shocked look etched on her stern face.  She said something-something, “I was just trying to help!” she stammered.  “You need to be with your family bla-bla-bla…”
	Ernie was enraged and walloped the woman upside the head again.
	And again.
	And again some more.
	The woman collapsed to the ground twitching.
	That’s not good.

	For a long while he stared at the woman.  She twitched a little more but otherwise was lifeless.  Ernie felt sick—but was still in a high state of pissed offedness.  Then, there was the fear.  There would be severe retribution for his actions.  All because the bitch couldn’t keep her business to herself!
	Rage overran fear and Ernie dragged his aunt off into the tall grasses and bushes, tore her paisley dress off followed by her underwear.  Then—then he mounted her and had his way.  A good pussy fuck was just one way of getting back to the nosey aunt; after fucking her pussy until he came off he straddled her chest and had himself a titty fuck before standing up and peeing on her.

	Thereafter it was a matter of dragging her body way-way out into the middle of the overgrown field and shoving her off into the quicksand.  The quicksand area was marked by a so-so fence with warnings but that had been placed there long-long ago.  People who wandered the back area of the county knew where the two quicksand places were and avoided them.
	After CoraBeth sunk out of sight, Ernie trotted back to her car and drove it out to the other quicksand spot that was bigger and supposedly deeper.  Then he spent the entire afternoon covering his tracks—er, the car’s tracks.
	Then he went home, swallowed his pride and apologized to his dad.
	His dad accepted and things went back to normal.
	Of course, CoraBeth’s “missing” came up and everyone searched for her; on reflection, Ernie realized he should have brought her car into town and left it somewhere, then humped it back to his own.  But he didn’t think that then in the heated moment.
	“What happened to him?” Helga asked curiously.
	Bob sighed, “Well, he was haulin’ some mash down that Arkansas line and got into it with the local law.”  There was a chase, a wreck, spilled mash all over the road, and then a shoot out.
	“A shoot out?”
	“Yep.”
	“What happened to Ernie?”
	“He was the one who got shot.”
	End.