August Moone
Book 9
Chapter 16
And the Saga Continues
Vignettes Cumtinuing

The Party continues
	Like most of the Party goers, Amanda was in an easy-access dress.  Horny horndog Brandon typical pants non-jean type and a nice shirt.  Like most boys, Brandon was slightly taller than the girls; he played basketball and baseball but excelled in soccer and swimming.  He looked GREAT in his swim trunks (so noted Amanda).  Amanda’s middle-of-the-back strawberry blond hair smelled fantastic!  She had a single braid along one side of her pretty head; turquoise earrings, some finger rings, and small petite titties.
	Amanda caressed Brandon’s arm; Brandon was thirteen and had been for a couple of months.  He had grown out of his pubescent dorky appearance into a fine young man worthy of a girl’s catch.  And Amanda Titsight had caught him.  Brandon didn’t know what it was about girls who “caressed” a guy’s arms but whatever.  Holding her to him the couple swayed—they could still hear Tara’s lame music but it was muffled.
	Slowly the two danced; they bumped the foreheads together then cocked their heads for the kiss.  This only of course increased their musical tempo whereas Brandon’s busy hands began roaming and alerted Amanda who quickly grabbed them to stop them from roaming.
	Brandon stopped but boys don’t like to be “stopped” when brought to the brink of something.  Thankfully there was “intervention” intervening.
	‘reach up under her dress.’ 
	And as Brandon “reached up” under Amanda’s mid-thigh length dress,
	‘let him feel your ass.’
	Brandon’s fingers delicately danced methodically about Amanda’s ass skin, slipping inside the hem of her panties to fully grasp the cheeks and pull the girl in tighter to him moments later.  They were still kissing.  Brandon was further instructed to move his hands up and then inside the top part of the girl’s undies then slide them down.  As he did so, Amanda was instructed to haul out the boy’s fuck stick.  When she had done this she began playing with the boy’s flute, cupping his balls lovingly then going down to her knees…

	Elsewhere and two boys were with two girls smoking funny cigarettes and dissing the party.  The one big girl and one big boy were together, eating cupcakes, slurping punch, and farting.  They had eyes for one another and smiled with bizarre thoughts to themselves.
	One boy using a bathroom rummaged thru the dirty clothes hamper finding the host’s panties—or her mother’s.  Either way, panties were panties so he jerked off onto them.   But for the most part—boys not involved in smoking or jerking off, or farting, hung together yapping as much as the girls were doing likewise.  The Party was lame.
	Meanwhile, back at the garden shed—
	Brandon’s cock (hard as a rock) lambasted Amanda’s face; with his balls cinched up against her mouth and his prong up against her face—he jutted a little spunk matter into her super fine perfect hair.  Amanda suckled his barely hairy nuggets and the potentially fine hunky boy humped her face.
	Before blowing his full load,
	‘suck it,’ said the Voice, ‘suck his dick.’
	Amanda took Brandon Ballsight’s thirteen year old schlong and sucked.  She wasn’t an avid cock sucker but wasn’t overly opposed.  It was a little gross but her mind was locked out from knowing so.  She sucked, slurped, and received a generous amount of teenage spunk for her efforts.  Then, continuing to comply with the Voice’s commands, slipped off her dress, bra, and panties.  She then laid down and spread her legs.  Brandon stripped off ALL of his clothing and nestling his face between her legs began an earnest bout of cunt munching.
	Being a little over twelve but not quite thirteen there wasn’t much poon pubes to contend with.  Brandon wasn’t into flossing and happily licked the girl’s cunt.
	‘would you care if she was ten years old?’ the Voice asked.
	Brandon paused a moment, ass up in the air, cock dripping sperm, mind whirling, mind not fully aware of what he was actually doing (and where).  Slowly, though, he shook his head—no, it wouldn’t matter if the girl he was licking out was ten.
	‘would you care if she were eight?’
	Or a boy?
	Brandon sat up with a very confused look on his face.  The light from the neighboring yards were on giving some light to the dark backyard.  Gnats were about, mosquitos, and other buzzing nighttime insects.  
	For Brandon; no boys and no girls under ten.
	No girls under ten.
	No girls under ten—soooo, he WOULD mess with a girl who WAS ten!
	Oh!
	Brandon had had sex—with his cousin, Arlene.  Arlene was two years older and they had messed around since they were little engaging in the no-no when the family was on a family camping reunion the year prior.  They had gone skinny dipping and then did the naughty thereafter—twice!  Once IN the water and then in the woods.
	Grinding his cock against Amanda’s pussy and the boy’s emptied of whimsy.  The Voice stroked his own as well as patted the boy’s ass.  Amanda wiggled on her clothes, made a face, grunted, groaned, then undulated as her pussy was deflowered.
	Brandon arched his back as he pumped; the light from the neighboring backyard gave a nice shimmer to his glossy sweating backside.  He pumped vigorously pulling out and squirting a goodly amount up Amanda’s fine chimed body—then he reinserted to complete the deed shuddering his ass and neck muscles as he did so.
	Amanda’s cunt, deflowered, trembled so.  The girl’s young almost teenage body shuddered, trembled, and quivered.  Her young nipples were hardened with her mind drifting in and out of consciousness.  Which was good ‘cause after Brandon—the Voice!
	And if the question of the mind were asked of him—girls younger than Amanda; ten, nine, EIGHT?  Would it matter?
	Answer—No.
	Boys?
	No.

	After his time with Amanda, Jon, aka the Voice, stood and completed his mind warping of the two young lovers—they would continue to engage sexually with one another with Amanda “loving” Brandon’s schlong in all three of her holes.  The Party was winding down; Jon considered re-entering the house to see what else he could get into, maybe get the Party goers into a naked game of Twister?
	The misguided thought pleased him and as the ache in his loins subsided his attention was redirected to the neighboring yard—the one with the lights.  In the backyard was a boat.  A big boat.  A really big boat—a replica of a fishing trawler.  It was slightly smaller but not by much.  The backyard was just big enough to fit it; but it didn’t look too out of place—there was a large pond, rocks and boulders, a pier, netting, and the three fences surrounding the boat were painted depicting an ocean, an island, and a dock.

	The boat had not been pulled from its birth at some marina but instead been hand built by its owner/operator—a retired seaman by the name of Noah.  Of course, there were “items” not handcrafted; the wheel, mast, propeller, and such as the like like that there but for the most part—70 percent of the Sue Ann Marie was hand crafted taking the old navy man 20 years to create.  There was no engine.
	The Sue Anne Marie was not just for Noah to enjoy in his declining years, to remember his seamanship days, but for his grandchildren to enjoy as a sort of odd playhouse.  One in particular was his granddaughter, Katy Anne.  Katy Anne had just turned eleven; she had raven dark hair, dark eyes, and not much in the titty department.   A nice form, though (‘specially when naked…)
	The door to the old seaman’s den was open; Katy Anne stood leaning against the threshold chewing on her cheek.  She wore light blue overalls and a simple girl’s shirt underneath and was barefoot.  In the den there were shelves and shelves of books—anything remotely related to the “sea” and ships.  On the walls, in the corners there was netting, ropes, anchors, ship’s wheel, propellers, parts of some famous ship, and placards of appreciation, accomplishments, deeds, and so forth.
	The girl, Katy Anne, stepped inside the office/den and slowly made her way to her grandpa.  The hour was late, almost eleven o’clock.  Noah slipped his hand around the granddaughter’s waist and immediately went to her ass.  Katy Anne made no adverse reactions about the feel but continued to chew on her cheek (and fidget slightly.)
	With a subtly nod from Noah, granddaughter Katy Anne unhooked the brass coupler fastener to her overalls and let them drop down.  Noah moved his hand over her flowery panties of white, patting the cheeks before tugging the garment down.  Katy Anne didn’t protest but looked solemn to disinterested.  Taking it all in stride in other words.  She fidgeted some then positioned herself down across her Grandpa’s lap.  The old man of the sea patted the girl’s butt more—harder.  This only caused the girl to tense and twist but she didn’t call out in any distress.
	Noah then began plunging a finger into the girl’s dirt chute.
	More smacking—but not hard.
	More anal intrusion, ass cheek squeezings, then the hapless girl was stood up—and closely scrutinized before being hugged.  Katy Anne hugged back; she looked a little forlorn but not too out of sorts about her predicament.  Noah caressed the girl more—specifically to her darling ass.
	After the hugging (and ass play) the girl was once more position across the man’s lap—and once more spanked and probed.  And just when the girl’s ass was turning a nice shade of tomato in came a black boy about the same age.  He was all smiles and deeply interested in what was going on.
	Noah acknowledged him with a head nod and the boy stripped off his clothes.  Katy Anne continued to take it all in stride—as well as take the boy’s black mamba into her mouth.  And while pulling one ass cheek open for her Grandpa’s intruding finger, she worked the boy’s cock with the other sucking the entire eleven year old cock into her mouth with ease.
	Noah retrieved from a desk drawer the spoke of a ship’s wheel and began inserting it into the girl’s well fingered hole.  The black boy, Derrick, grinned ear to ear as he was sucked.  Noah was grinning, too.  At length, though, Katy Anne’s squirming indicated that she had had enough.  Noah stood her up, hugged her, caressed her burning flesh, then sat her on his great wooden desk taken from a great sailing vessel of days long gone bye.  Her overalls and panties were removed and the girl was leaned back to lay out on the desk.
	Derrick stroked his very black cock and eyed Katy Anne’s very white pussy.
	Noah eyed his granddaughter’s white pussy also.  Then he stood and unhitched his pants.  His cock then was slapped against the “very white pussy” gouging its way up and down the crevice while the black boy stood grinning and fidgeting—awaiting his turn.  Katy Anne twisted this way and that, clutched the edge of the table with her feet on the edge, too.  Noah smoothed his hands up her torso to cup her beginner’s titties—his cock riding nicely against her poon.
	Slowly the old man’s schlong made entry and the fuck was on.
	Slowly.
	Katy Anne grimaced some but mostly pursed her lips and “hung on.”
	Noah slid into the girl’s sex and went for several minutes; pulling out to hump the entrance, spew a little spew, then re-enter to finish off the engagement.  Upon pulling out again a massive wad of spunk spewed forth shooting up like ropes up the girl’s body.  Noah continued to gouge the girl’s cunt until he was spent and had had enough.
	Then it was Derrick’s turn.
	Noah stepped aside and the young black boy, best friend of Katy Anne, stepped up and didn’t mind the “sloppy/messy” seconds.  He was just happy to fuck.  And so while Derrick fucked Katy Anne, Noah slipped off out of the den, down the hall, passed the bathroom, and the bedroom situated just beyond.  Therein lay a sleeping little girl, the young sibling of Katy Anne.
	Noah didn’t do anything (but he thought about doing something.)
	In the old seaman’s office the naked girl on the desk was antsy; she twisted and fidgeted and was not as much into the fuck session as the one who was fucking her.  And as soon as Derrick had gotten his fill of fucking her she scrambled off the desk not bothering to collect her clothes piled on the floor.  She found her Grandpa in the bathroom washing his dick.  Ewewe!

		
	After a minute of watching her Grandpa wash his cock the old man nodded to her.  Katy Anne, however, was not interested in “washing” the old man’s cock.  Double ewewewe!  She did, though, come into the bathroom and spreading her legs a bit allowed the salty dog “wash” her.  It seemed that there was a sort of “deal” between them; so long as Noah didn’t molest the sleeping five year old down the hall then he could do as he liked with Katy Anne.
	Good deal.
	“Man, I gotta piss like a Russian race horse!” announced the black best friend, Derrick, suddenly appearing at the bathroom’s door.  Still naked, and still with a rock hard hard-on, the boy made way to the toilet.  Noah had caught his granddaughter and her best friend fucking in the boat in the backyard.  Fucking, sucking, and spanking—and spanking seemed to be one of those quirky things Katy Anne enjoyed (much to Noah’s amusement.)
	Noah stopped the boy from his peeing attempt and directed him and his granddaughter into the bathtub/shower.  There, the boy happily whizzed onto Katy Anne’s fresh clean/well fingered pussy.  Noah masturbated and as soon as Derrick had pissed his fill the girl was pulled out and positioned on the floor.  Noah was in a bad way and angled his cock into the girl’s asshole.  Derrick, unable to keep from smiling or downplay his boner, positioned himself before the hapless Katy Anne and received a generous blowjob.
	Later on that night after Katy Anne and Derrick went to bed (together, too) salty sea dog Noah crept lightly into his youngest granddaughter’s bedroom.  A nightlight by the bedside table gave a soft yellowish glow to the room setting the atmosphere.  Very carefully and very slowly did Noah ease the bed covers down.  The sleeping angel wore nothing more than a simple knee length yellow nylon nightgown—and nothing more!  This made it easy for the old man to raise the nightgown up to reveal her nakedness.  And after a moment of staring at the youngster’s bald poon he quietly and moved onto the bed straddling the child.  There, he produced his cock from his pajamas and began masturbating.
	After spilling his splooge onto the girl’s innocent poon he smeared the spunk all over the delicate area, then fingered earnestly until he felt relieved and/or satisfied enough to leave.  He left his spunk where it was, pulled the nightgown back down, pulled the covers back up, kissed the sleeping child and went on his way.  Moments later, though, and in came Derrick—who did exactly the same thing!

*

I am what I am ‘cause that’s what I am!
	Jon Slugmee wasn’t a bad sort; he worked at a church, had a young daughter, a wife, well respected, had a young daughter, worked at a church, and had a mind altering (electronic) device.  The Device had been in his possession for quite some time.  Unused.  Fear mostly kept him from utilizing the nifty gadget.  Fear on two fronts—it was evil, evil to use, evil to even consider thinking about using it.  It was wrong, illegal, immoral.  And on the other front—he knew that once he started using it—that would be the end of his sanity (and morality.)
	With the EMAD came a whole new avenue for Jon to travel; spying mostly.  Spying gave him generous insight—like the neighbors aforementioned.  He wasn’t sure exactly as to how the nifty gadget worked; all he knew was that it did.  After the Noah/Katy Anne incident he put the EMAD away.  He feared it.  He feared himself.  Being privy to what he had seen had really sent him in a whirl—and armed with that knowledge he wasn’t the same and it was best (for now) to put the Device away until such a time as when he could deem himself to handle it.
	In the meantime he built a playhouse for his five year old daughter, Megan.
	At the end of the construction they sat on the balcony looking out over their backyard swinging their legs, eating lunch.  Jon gave his daughter a tale of rabbits and goats in a garden and Megan, already excited about her 2-story playhouse—wet her pants.
	Not a biggie; kids wet their pants at that tender age.  Jon took his child into the regular house to the bathroom where he stripped her down to help wash her vagina.  And with the image of Katy Anne nestled freshly in his mind still seeing his five year old naked (and fingering her pussy) got him hard.  Normally he had been able to quell those misbegotten feelings; he had often cleaned his child, wiped her, bathed her, and dressed her with narry a stray thought on the matter of sexual perversion.  Normally.  With Katy Anne’s nakedness fresh in his mind as well as her little sister that “norm” was second placed.
	Being five years young, little Megan was unawares of being “molested.”  She loved and adored her daddy and he could do no wrong.  Finger-finger-finger!  His cock got hard-harder-hardest.  He began to shake and tremble realizing that there was an undeniable ache that simply wouldn’t go away.
	Not until there was satisfaction.
	But against his daughter?
	No.
	Against someone else’s daughter?
	Yes.
	
The nappy ‘ho
	The EMAD bothered him.  The EMAD bothered a lot of people.  For safety (of mind) and security (of freedom) the Electronic Mind Altering Device was kept locked up and away.  It was risky to use—riskier to use.  And Jon was a man in a prestigious position—a deacon at a church.  He taught at a private school associated with the church, was a family man, and had in his possession the most illegal device known to man.
	And he had solemnly/firmly vowed not to use the wicked Device against his child.  But other peoples’ child?  That was ok.  And at the downtown museum of weird art, the Blue Lue Museum of Weird Art, one such other peoples’ child came into play.  While contemplating the mysteries of life and how to quell his burgeoning need to fuck some young girl or other three girls slipped out a side door of the museum and slinked their way along to the alley to the delivery dock.
	No one was about but three lanky boys.
	Although parked across the street, Jon Slugmee had had good eyes, perfect eyes—better than perfect.  He had wolf eyes—gray and excellent depth perception.  This allowed him to see that the girls and boys gathered at the museum’s dock were smoking—smoking those funny cigarettes, too.  The girls; one black, one Mexican, one Korean, all were approximately thirteen.  The boys; two black, one white, were approximate same age with one of the black youths a year older.
	Suddenly, the roll-up doors began “rolling up” and the youths scattered.  The boys ran down the alley, the girls ran to the front sidewalk—where a woman in a tight dress, tall, hair in a bun, looking official, was coming down the great wide cement stairs from the museum’s entrance.  The girls halted their run and turned to run down the alley after the boys.
	Jon didn’t think he would have a chance but he went for it anyways; there was the light that hung on red forever, then the left turn to the long block to the next street behind the museum, then another left and a slow crawl to see if he could locate the misbegotten girls.
	There they were—hanging loosely in front of the theatre.  It was a school day, middle of the day, and they should not be “hanging loosely” about the front of a theatre.  Then, they decided to go to the liquor store.  While the Korean girl and the Mexican gal slipped into the store, the black girl hung loosely outside.  Twice she attempted to go in but then stuffed her hands in her pants’ pockets and shuffled about outside nonchalant-like.

	Then, quick as a wink, or a poke in the eye, the two girls who had gone inside the store darted out running madly—carrying some booze, cigarettes, and candy.  The store clerk came out shouting with a young Korean boy giving chase from a side door in the alley. The black  girl backed up, startled and unsure of what was going on—shocked, really at what was going on.  Shoplifting!
	The Korean clerk/owner/proprietor whirled on the black girl shouting,
	“You with them?”
	The black girl wisely shook her head and backed up.
	“You with them!” shouted the man accusingly, “I know you are!”
	This made the black girl back up more and before the enraged Korean man could grab her arm she bolted and ran.  She nearly got hit (by a car, bus, taxi, bicyclist) as she darted across Frontage St. against the light and STOP (in the walk).  Catching her breath she kept on going making for the bus stop when—
	“Get in.”
	The girl held up and seemed confused.  Then—
	She got in.	
	Jon sighed—the Device on his lap revealed all the indications in the green.
	Slowly he pulled the big heavy American gunboat from the curb, eased into traffic, made for the expressway, and hauled American-ass.  There was no set planned destination but one was forming.  As for car choices, the big American 14-ft. long 1970s burgundy car was a doozy.  He had another car in the drive that was for church and running around the city in.  The big car, the one the size of a tank, was a family car and had been in his family for some time.  It was big, it was heavy, it was cumbersome, it drank petrol like it was going out of style.  But Jon liked it; tromp on the gas pedal and the big V-8 opened and ZOOM!  “color me gone!”
	It was a politically incorrect car but it wasn’t driven everyday.  A better choice for a vehicle, of course, was something like a big SUV or a van.  Jon had neither of those specialty vehicles so he dealt with what he had.  There was a meeting he was supposed to be at at the civic center with the mayor (and a bunch of other bothered sub-pastors.)  At the Yellow Ave. exit turning onto Mauve Way heading East out of the City he knew he wasn’t going to make it.  The meeting was deemed to be a Bitch Session anyways.  His two-cents worth wouldn’t amount to much but a waste of time.  Still, though, his being there was a representation of the second-banana pastors and deacons seeking better representation of their churches and from their churches.
	A few miles down Mauve Way where the traffic lightened up on the four lane that diverged to a two-lane near country road,
	‘Undo your pants.’
	It was a risk and a bold move but one that was necessary.
	The girl, Teesha, sat still for a moment, mouth open, eyes straight ahead.  Then, she blinked once and her hands began moving undoing her non-jean type pants.  Jon was awed—and relieved.  More relief was to cum…
	At Punk Rd. he made a slow turn and prompted his passenger,
	‘undo your shirt.’
	She did.
	Jon took a daring move to cup a feel job of the girl’s titties; she had on a small cup pinkish bra and as soon as he began feeling of the girl’s barely teenage titties he was hard-hard-hard.  The girl, for being black, wasn’t a bad looking creature:  kind of a long narrow face, big wide eyes, a sharp but small nose, and her kinky hair was mid-1980s style pulled back into an almost ponytail but her hair wasn’t right for a “ponytail.”
	She was cute, for thirteen.  And slightly stoned, too.
	At Zurker Way Jon pulled off the two-lane and onto a dirt road that wound its way around some rustic hills and so-so desert like arena.  In amongst some hills, old mills, old above ground tin cisterns, oil pumping units, Jon prompted the girl to push down her pants.
	She did.
	With the seat positioned all the way back to the back seat, access to Teesha Gangme was made a little easier.  And still, by prompting, Jon Slugmee was awed to no ends at the marvelous gadget prompting the girl’s mind.  She followed thru with his commands without so much as a confused state of mind, hesitation, or anything of the like.
	‘take your panties down.’
	She did!
	Amazing!
	The girl was soon out of her clothes and naked-naked-naked.
	And Jon found the girl to have a nappy dugout.  She was all of thirteen years young and had a hellacious coverage of cunt hair.  A huge mound of kinky pubes that were amazingly soft—just a lot of them.  She was totally unaware of being fingered—and totally unaware of being in the know about trimming her poon.  Jon found the experience fascinating and fingered her pussy until it was well “wet.”
	Then he stripped off his own clothing and positioned himself lightly on the girl’s fine nude body.  He suckled her smallish breasts and grinded his throbbing hard cock against her very furry snatch.  There were no stray thoughts invading his mind—all there was was Teesha.

	After much grinding against the girl’s forest he made dutiful entry.  Satisfaction was instant.  She wasn’t a virgin but not a slut either.  Her pussy accepted his invasion and Jon slid nicely into her.  The girl arched her back, nipples stiffened, and she moaned.  Jon’s mind blanked with some images of his precious daughter drifting in and out.
	There was remorse—but no regret in his actions regarding Teesha with the nappy dugout.  After the first fuck he rested, fondled her breasts then began a second round of grinding his manhood against her.  The EMAD worked wondrously and as much as it flambasted Teesha it equally did so to Jon.

	When Jon Slugmee wasn’t scoping out young ladies in the city he was at his profession of filling young heads of mush with facts.  He was a teacher; he taught at his church’s private school.  What an opportunity!  But again, fear of going overboard, getting caught, something going wrong, or enjoying himself too much prevented him from utilizing the EMAD.  But after the debauchery with Teesha and seeing how well the Device worked…
	‘resistance is futile.’ The words of the Borg filled his mind.  The EMAD’s amazing powers were more than difficult to ignore.  The students he taught were a mix of boys and girls.  Pretty girls, handsome boys.  Nine, ten, eleven year olds being instructed on English essays and World History (with a religious background.)  Jon only worked three days a week, in the middle of the week giving him the time to spend with his daughter (and prowl the city…)
	One day, while his students read their study books, Jon fiddled with the notion of using the Device.  He had brought it to school at the last moment and agonized on using it or keeping it hidden and not used.  He feared greatly being overtaken by the nifty gadget—once he began using the mind altering device there would be no stopping.  Until it was too late.  
	What to do—what to do!?
	With a sigh he brought the Device onto the desk—shielded by books and archeological artifacts (Jon was an amateur archeologist) the minding gadget was hidden.  There was no strict dress code save for sensible clothing, nothing revealing, nothing tight, no shorts.  Short skirts were, though, ok.  And Amber Boomark was wearing a “short skirt.”
	Bonnie Cussright had on a nice summery dress to the knees.
	Carlene Dirong wore a knee length plaid skirt and was fidgety in her hard wooden seat; she crossed and opened her legs—often, giving her instructor a brief peek-a-boo of her crotch.  Six other girls tempted Jon likewise, three wore almost tight jeans.  His mind was not his own.  Six boys also tempted Jon but he wasn’t sure how much of that temptation there was that would lead to something naughty.
	Darla Eswhig—a very cute girl; daddy owned not one, not two, but three dry cleaning businesses in town.  She made commercials for and with her daddy, she had also an ice cream commercial and was a spokesperson for a downtown bookstore.  A beautiful girl with long-long silky light brown hair; a long body, and almost twelve years young.  She wore a nice summer dress just to her knees.  Jon lightly danced his fingers over the sensory keypad of the EMAD.  He held his breath as waited to see if his “desires” were carried out.
	With all the students “reading”, though, it was hard to tell.
	He called for Darla to come up to the desk; both by vocal command as well as electronical.  The desk was in a corner and angled.  The door to the classroom shut and the one side where all the windows were closed and concealed by a long curtain to keep the intense light (and heat) at bay.
	Darla arose from her desk and came quietly to the desk and around the side to within a few inches of Mr. Slugmee.  The lights of the EMAD showed all GREEN.  The Brain Wave Pattern Capture indicators were all in the nominal range giving Jon the indication that he had indeed “captured” all of his students.
	Still, though, he waited.
	And waited.
	Then, clearing his throat and noting that time was getting on, 
	‘pull your dress up.’ he said via the electronic device holding the girl’s mind.
	To his relief (and a bunch of other emotions) the girl did so.
	Lavender panties the girl had on.
	Jon breathed hard and gouged his hand to his burgeoning boner.
	The girl stared blankly straight ahead.
	Jon placed his hand right on directly her ass.
	Darla did nothing.
	Jon very gingerly tugged the undergarment down just a little.
	And seeing no adverse reaction from the girl—tugged the undies down a little more.  Then a little more and a little more until the panties were down and the girl’s pussy was there for the gawking.  Jon sighed and let out his breath—then let out his cock and gripped it tightly.  Darla remained calm, quiet, and still.  Jon’s hand went in small circles all over the girl’s ass, squeezed a cheek, then diddled her pert dainty unfucked asshole.
	Then, down she was placed across his lap.  Closing his eyes he smoothed his hand over her ass before landing a medium sized smack.  The girl jolted but didn’t cry out.  Looking over his classroom the students therein remained as they were, too.  Another smack and then another before he worked the girl’s panties down—and off.  Then he positioned the girl to whereas she was straddling his lap and his cock was against her cunny.
	Oh how he wanted to fuck her!
	Somehow—somehow he resisted.  But it wasn’t easy.  There was soilage coating the crown of his proud stick—and OH how he ached!  Smearing the glistening knob on Darla’s crevice helped.  Some.  His unnatural desires overwhelmed him and he DID poke the head of his manhood into her sex.  But only so far in as to meet the intact hymen.  His hands clutched tightly the girl’s ass and with one mighty shove he could have destroyed the breech.
	Could have.
	But he didn’t.
	He did rub and gouge until such a time as a quantity of love cream spewed forth and thoroughly soiled the girl’s quim.  He was satisfied (but full vaginal penetration would have been better.)  His mind was just overwhelmed with the impossible desire to enter the girl.  But she would know afterwards; her broken-in pussy would be sore—and messy.
	Still, though—
	A little poking, some prodding, and almost fucking.
	Almost.
	Jon just couldn’t cross that barrier.
	He knew the girl.
	It was a let down; but then again, not all bad.  The girl was naked, he had cum on her pussy, gouged her pussy, and got away with spanking her.   He was almost satisfied with rubbing his aching cock on the girl’s pussy.  Almost.  If he didn’t know her—yeah, he’d do the ultimate naughty and bust her cherry and “fuck her brains out.”
	After dressing her he returning her to her seat he selected Amber Boomark.
	There wasn’t sufficient time to mess with the girl but the elven year old had his attention; that short skirt for one.  He regulated himself to just having her panties down—this after having her raise her dress to expose her panties.  Basic white undies with multicolored flowers all over them.  She had a nice muffin and after staring at her for a moment or two he lowered them just past her ass.
	A nice trim trim.  The girl had blond hair, dirty blond, and her “crop” was a light blond.  The hairs were soft and she was—not virginal!  Amazing!  She was eleven and not a virgin!  Well, she WAS pretty.  Who was tagging her he didn’t get into—he did, though, however, get into her.
	There wasn’t sufficient time so a little finger to moisten her up and then he put it in her head to “meet” him after school.  It would be a long day.  There was no time to mess with any of the other girls—or boys.  The aforementioned were students of his “homeroom” class.  There were more classes of other students, then lunch period, an afternoon class, then—then--

	To say the least he was beside himself.
	He had a meeting to attend, for the school and the church.
	A meeting with a friend for socializing and networking.
	Something to do here—something to do there.
	But time with Amber Boomark in his office was way better.
	Way.
	Jon was already fired up—and moist.  Getting Amber naked again increased his fire—and moistness.  She was a true beauty—and only eleven years young!  And naked—wow, she was even better.  Jon was more at ease in the privacy of his office so he stripped off his own clothing, hugged the girl, patted (groped) her ass and budding breast before situating her on his crappy green wooden desk he had cleared off for just such an occasion.  There was a comfy sofa for further defiling of young girls but the desk was at proper height.
	Firstly, after gawking and admiring Amber’s poon, he kissed passionately the furry snatch then licked, nipped, and devoured the cunt all the while driving a finger into her asshole.  Amber twisted, groaned, and clenched her sphincter about his plunging finger.  Finally, Jon could hold back no longer and introduced the girl’s pussy to his cock.
	The meeting was a good once the greeting was done—
	The girl wasn’t even a teenager yet.
	And yet—she turned him on so!
	And—AND—she wasn’t even a virgin!
	Then, while sliding his cock into her tight/snug sex she revealed (via the EMAD link) that her horny fourteen year old brother and—AND his best friend were screwing her.  The boys had to give up their allowances and do other things for her (chores) in exchange for getting naked and having sex.  Other than that she was a “good girl.”
	
	Good girl.
	Mare Humpsalittle was not a “good girl.”  She was—as far as Jon was to know her; but then he found out different.  Mare was ten years young and not one of his students; she was a mere member of the church family.  Very cute girl, her daddy ran some sort of horse farm.   
 	One fine day at church during the lull between Morning Service One and Morning Service Two, Jon spotted the young girl nervously making her way along a hallway normal parishioners didn’t utilize—just those who worked there.  When he confronted the girl at the T intersection from an adjoining corridor—the girl nearly wet her pants.  (which would have been alright with Jon!)

	Her pretty brown eyes bulged with fright and she was genuinely concerned for her well being saying “I-I didn’t do nothing!” all the while clutching a leather bag with the words CHURCH TITHING written on it.  Jon had seen the girl with some other girls, slightly older girls.
	“Whatcha got there?” Jon asked already knowing.
	“Nothing.” replied the frightened girl.
	“Looks like a whole lot of nothing.”
	They locked eyes and the girl was close to losing it and crying.  She twisted in place and looked like she had to pee.  (which would have been alright with Jon!)
	“Let’s go to my office and see whatcha got.”
	As they began to march to his office,
	“It-it’s not mine, I-I just found it!” the little girl wailed.
	Jon kept a hand on the girl’s shoulders—good thing, for when she tried to bolt he squeezed her shoulder and brought her roughly to him.  “Yer not going anywhere.”  ‘’cept maybe across my lap!’
	In his office he had the girl stand whilst he quickly locked both doors—one from the outside and one from the inside.  There was one bay window that usually had the curtain and drapes drawn.  Being a Sunday he seldom got calls but he manipulated the phone on his desk to where any incoming calls would go to the operator/voice mail.
	Then he took the leather bag from the girl and peered into it.  The money was still there—collected from the morning’s service.  With a sigh he sat down folding his hands and giving the youngster a long hard disappointing stare.
	“Did those other girls hand you this bag?”
	Mare nodded her pretty head that it was so.
	Mare was a pretty girl; light brown hair in twin pig tails, a smallish face, flat chest, nice forming butt.  The Church was not one of being sticklers for proper attire so many of those in attendance wore “alternate” clothing; for the most part, when attending a church those attending were like going to see someone special—i.e. The Lord.  So naturally one would “dress” up to be presentable.  Times have changed and mostly young peoples go in less than dressy attire.  So be it.  As long as you go, right?
	“Your daddy gonna be upset.” stated factly Jon.
	Mare was close to tears.  She nodded and twisted on her feet, wringing her hands together, and clenching all over.
	“Well, I’ll tell ya,” drawled Jon, “maybe we can avoid telling your daddy, if you come around here to me.”

	Mare wasn’t sure what she heard.  She wrinkled her pert little nose, farted, looked more frightened and shocked (at farting) in Jon’s presence, and was in a desperate situation to be sure.  Slowly she shuffled her way around to be at Mr. Slugme’s side.
	“Ever get swatted?” Jon asked.
	Mare, with her mouth open agape, nodded.  “Sometimes.”
	Jon put his hand to her backside and moved it up and down.  She wore a checkered blue and white cowgirl shirt, kinda loose, short sleeved.  Typical jeans but “nice” jeans and clean pink tennis shoes.
	“Well,” continued Jon, “I’ll tell ya what,” he paused and stifled a fart of his own and resisted gouging his growing boner, “I’ll swat ya here and now and we wont let you daddy know what you did.”
	He let Mare take that in—a spanking, here and now, and daddy wont know that she pilfered the church’s money.  Of course, she hadn’t really done the pilfering, the other girls had and when they were about to be caught handed the bag offering to Mare.
	Then, as Mare moved to take her swatting,
	“Undo your pants.”
	The little girl blinked her eyes and conveyed concern.
	‘Undo your pants—push them down.’  Jon’s voice was calm, even, and direct.  Mare farted again—but this time she was so alarmed as she was still digesting what was said to her then what she had digested for breakfast.
	Slowly, though, the girl’s fingers undone the button to her jeans, unzipped, and pushed the pants down.  Nice yellow undies greeted Jon’s eyes.  Kiddie undies with blue duckies all over them.  Gently he guided the girl up to his right knee and smacked her little ass swiftly.
	Mare jolted and gasped.
	Jon smoothed his hand over the girl’s ass asking, “Does your daddy smack you with clothes on—or off?”
	A moment passed before the girl gulped answering, “Sometimes.”  Sometimes with her pants (and undies) down and sometimes just pants down—depending on the offense.
	Slowly and did Jon slip his hand inside her yellow/duckie panties and squeeze her left butt cheek.  His cock groaned.  Mare’s bewildered eyes stared straight ahead—her mind buzzed by Jon’s handy-dandy EMAD he had for some reason brought from home.  
	After sighing he inched the undies down and smacked her bare ass wondering casually if her daddy got boners when spanking her, too?  Jon released his boner taking Mare’s hand to the mighty erection coaxing her, coaching her how to please him.
	And Jon Slugmee was pleased.
	She had never gripped a cock before, or seen her daddy’s.  Mare had, though, seen boys her age AND older peeing (in the woods).  Being raised on a farm she had seen horse schlongs as well as horse fuckings.  Jon was more and more enthused with the girl and wished that he didn’t know her so much.  Smoothing his hand over her butt some more he moved her to lay across his lap where a swift smack caused her to pee a little.
	Jon didn’t mind.  It turned him on.
	Parting her cheeks he eyed her “one-eye” then slipped a finger down between her legs to her bald pussy and “get after it.”  His cock, pressing against her stomach, groaned and Jon began to rub.  Then, after another hard smack lifted the girl to position her on the desk.  The pants and yellow undies were slipped off—along with her pink shoes and Jon’s cock was highly engrossed.
	Mare’s nakedness consumed Jon.  She had peed a little but he didn’t mind or cared.  He went down on her young bald beaver and happily licked her out.  He thought of his own child, Megan, and desired deeply to do same unto her.  Mare wiggled some, wriggled some, farted, and peed some.  Jon devoured her young cunt wholly before lashing her with his throbbing aching cock.  And like with Amber—OH! How he wanted to fuck her!
	But he didn’t.  There was significant gouging and a hell of a lot of ejaculation.  The mess spurted fully coating Mare’s pussy.  This made it easier for his aching cock to gouge the slit.  But being a man-dick and Mare’s pussy a little girl’s pussy—penetration wasn’t going to happen.  Oh, it could have—but he knew the girl and didn’t want to hurt her.  But he could have!  He settled for gouging and smearing his spunk on her slit.  And Jon Slugmee was pleased
	During the second service, Jon spotted the culprits who had left Mare “holding the bag”.  He had to maneuver himself into prime position and then wait for “opportunity.”  Meanwhile, Stacie Pembrook caught his attention.  The girl had on a nice yellow top with frilly sleeve edging and nice-nice tight jeans.  A full head of lovely blond hair, a long narrow face, sweet as could be in a thirteen year old body.  She sat in the back pews with her friends and got up making her way out of the Sanctuary to the restroom.
	Jon watched her and ultimately followed.
	And as soon as she came out of the bathroom—
	‘go left.’
	The indicators on the EMAD wavered with indicator lights flickering; but,
	The Target became a Subject as she paused briefly, made a face, cocked her head, then “turned left” exiting the enclosed foyer.  And continuing to follow instructions walked stealthfully to Jon Slugmee’s office.  Jon followed quickly (but not so quickly as to be noticed).
	A red bra (with lace) and matching red panties!
	Though his cock had had a work out with the previous girl, Mare Humpsalittle, Stacie Pembrook revitalized him greatly—and graciously!   His whole entire cock was tingling while his balls sang.  On his desk he splayed the girl out—completely and entirely naked.  It was a bit of work undressing the girl—time consuming.  But once she was naked—the joy overtook the time worry and Jon stripped off his clothing also.
	Then it was down to work—smoothing his hands over the naked teen’s body, squeezing her titties, fingering her pussy, gouging her asshole, then introducing his cock to her fuckable teenage twat.  Fingering the girl’s pussy got her “wet”; her nipples stiffened—and Jon’s cock stiffened even more!
	He stole a moment to take the girl in before gently guiding his cock in.
	He thought he would melt.  That was some pussy!  Not virginal but very snug.  Right from the get go—right from the first pump/push-in there was a jut of cum.  Subsequent pumpings resulted in more cummings.  Jon found himself ogling the girl’s titties—bodacious ta-tas they were.  He was very pleased and his cock surged and squirted a nice copious amount of gooey love.
	After some generous pumpings he pulled out and loved on the girl’s cunny.
	And Jon was pleased.

	And like so many of the other Main Characters—watching (spying) on others became a mainstay.  Using the “stealth” feature of the amazing mind altering gadget, Jon was able to spy on Paul Gumming—and his very cute ten year old daughter, Kassidy.  Very cute.  And being very naughty with her daddy.
	In his big 4-by-4 American muscle pick-up truck, Paul Gumming sat snuggling—seriously snuggling, with his precious little girl, Kassidy.  Paul was a construction company owner and had a big truck; he looked rough but was an ok kind of guy.  His daughter was his second child and the youngest.  And she was a cutey pie for sure—long straight blond hair, blue eyes, flat body, great little ass.
	For a long time and Jon had been “interested” in the young girl.  Very interested.  In fact, he was so interested that she was on his Target List (of girls to acquire) for sexual debauchery.  Little did he know that she was already being debauched!
	And what a good debauching!  As Jon secretly watched:  Paul and Kassidy occupied space inside the cab of his big ass four-by truck you needed a ladder to climb into.  After some snuggling it was down to business—and despite the heavily tinted windows, spying Jon could see adequately enough just the same.  He didn’t know how—he didn’t care.  He just could.

	After the snuggling and some chatting, Paul unzipped his non-dress pants and hauled out his meat stick.  Kassidy was all a-blush and giggles and took holt of her Daddy’s stick and began masturbating it.  Then she used both hands smiling big and giggling still all the while.  Daddy Paul threw his head back thoroughly enjoying his daughter’s antics.
	Then, pretty blond haired Kassidy “went down” on the daddy dong taking most of the meat into her mouth at once.  Paul reared his head back even more rolling his eyes and trying to stuff himself further into his child’s mouth.  Kassidy sucked and sucked, slurped and smacked her lips seemingly ok with the illicit foul deed.  Paul caressed her backside slipping a hand up under her shirt.  Soon and that roaming hand was moving down to the inside of her pants slipping down to her ass.  The girl continued to suck-suck-suck.  The pivotal moment of ecstasy came and the flow of man juice spewed into Kassidy’s mouth.
	Paul reeled as he came off in his daughter’s mouth.  Kassidy didn’t seem to mind and continued to giggle (and blush).  Paul continued to feel out his daughter’s ass to the point whereas the young girl undone her beige britches.  The act disrupted her cock sucking venture.  She sat up to fully undo her pants and then shuck them.  Paul’s manhood was still mighty hard and after a quick looksee around his immediate area he shucked his pants, too.
	With Kassidy’s pants (and panties) at her ankles, Paul firstly ogled the youngster before swishing her legs up onto the seat and removing her beige pants and purple panties.  Kassidy continued to giggle (and blush).  Paul pulled his daughter down whereas she was laying fully out on the front bench seat of the mega pickup, opened her legs and “went down” on her.  Kassidy squealed as her exquisite little hairless cunt was devoured.
	Paul licked and fully engulfed the child’s poon, stuffed a finger up her asshole, thumbed her pussy and soon had a cock hard enough to break bricks.  It seemed unfathomable if not unconscionable and inconceivable that the man would then lay his manhood not only against his child’s cunny but then follow thru with the unthinkable—penetration.
	The spying Jon also had a cock hard enough to break bricks.  He thought only on his own precious child and the unmitigated desire to do likewise as Paul was doing unto Kassidy.
	Paul’s manly schlong didn’t fully enter Kassidy’s pussy; but close counts.  It was evident that the girl’s cunny had been invaded before.  Jon casually wondered if the girl’s older sister was also getting special attention from her daddy?  Unlike in smaller regular sized pick-ups, Paul’s massive mega truck was roomy enough to engage in the immoral deed of fucking.  Kassidy’s legs were up in the air with an ankle hooked to the top of the bench seat she was getting laid on.  

	Paul shamelessly made almost full penetration, pumped tenaciously until blasting a hot mega load of spunk.  It rocked his world.  Kassidy continued to just giggle and blush.  Paul made almost full entry after cumming in his daughter’s pussy; he pulled out and humped the gash spewing more spunk until he was well spent.  Still, though, he spanked Kassidy’s cunt with his steaming schlong, gouged the slit then tried to poke his way into her asshole.
	That was a no-go as his cock had lost significant strength and Kassidy’s asshole was quite possibly virginal.  Paul, though, undaunted, humped and humped and humped the girl’s cum laden pussy until laying off to one side.  The two began to kiss and Jon—Jon had to go.
	The incident in the church’s parking lot put Jon in such a funk.   
	Jon was just not the same.  He went home and spent more quality time with his own child, Megan.  And when the timing was right he zapped her young mind then slid her clothing off, parted her legs, and admired her nakedness.  Very much and oh how muchly did he wish she was as old as Kassidy!  Muchly and very so did he harbor the thought of having his way with the girl of the construction worker.  For that matter—ALL the girls of the church!  Why not?  There were quite a few girls—from as young as Megan to as old as eighteen.  Some college girls also had his attention as well as some young adults.  But it was, of course, “girls” of the young teen and single digit age that had his balls in action.
	With Megan, after admiring her for a long minute, he went down on her and licked happily.  He then undressed himself and flopped his magnificent average schlong against his child’s cunt.  He thought of Kassidy, of course; he older teenage sister, then several of the other girls until such time as he began to rub and hump Megan’s pussy shooting a massive wad of spunk up the child’s body.  
	He felt a little remorse—but the girl didn’t know the abuse and so the offense was downplayed and dismissed.  He smeared the spunk matter all over her little sex, fingering his spew until he could just about get the head of his cock into her slit.  He just wasn’t himself and had to do something drastic.

Associate deviants
	The realization of just how dangerous the nifty little mind altering gadget was hit him.  Even putting the Device “away” somewhere safe—wasn’t safe from his eager hands.  He tried to vow to keep himself form soiling his precious child—that was just wrong.  Wrong-wrong-wrong!  But then again—so long as she didn’t know about it…

	The opportunities at the church were enormous; so were those same opportunities around his very neighborhood.  No one was safe.  And the opportunity for something to “go wrong” began to consume him.  Even in his classroom—a time or two whilst having a student at his desk he saw a student in the masses nodding their head and not quite under the influence of the minding gizmo.
	That was worrisome.
	A friend of Jon’s did not have that worry; he trusted himself and his Device.
	And like Jon, Dennis Haysport had an eye for the young stuff.  For the opening of this snippet, though; “flat chested and hairless” wasn’t the case.  Zoey Spearsum wasn’t flat chested—for thirteen, the girl had a nice set of bouncy eye pleasers and a shapely body.  She had lip gloss, dazzling eyes, and a mystic about her that was intoxicating.  The era of the 90s prevailed upon her giving her a unique persona for the 2000s.  And there was always an air of “peaches” about the girl—in the way of perfume.  Pomegranate and other assorted fruits, too, but peaches were her mainstay.
	Anyways, Zoey was at a private school Dennis Haysport was principal of.  Not the average private school or even religious related; this school was for “gifted” students and there was a range of ages in attendance.  One such gifted student was Zoey’s brother—he was ten—six months from being eleven (if he survived the wrath of Principal Haysport.)
	Being gifted, tolerance was given to troublesome students—but Toby Spearsum pushed it.  Reassembling the flowers in the flowerbeds to spell out algorithms was one thing; switching the name plates on the bathrooms was one thing—he did so to see the psychological mishap and how the students would cope.  Also it was funny.
	Swimming naked in the school’s fountain was one “push” too far.
	On the way to the office for reprimand and possible expulsion the  two encountered Zoey.  Zoey pleaded for her little brother with the tall black administrator not so much moved—until he noted Zoey Spearsum and her short skirt, lip gloss, dazzling eyes, and nice rack.  His mind wandered and sordid thoughts prevailed.
	Zoey noted and slowly—slowly—s-l-o-w-l-y inched her pleated summery flowery skirt up revealing a great deal of her thigh.  Little Toby breathed hard as he too watched his sister.  Mr. Haysport had a holt of the boy’s shoulder but was deeply intrigued by the boy’s sister’s antics.
	Mr. Haysport caught himself—then nodded.
	“Perhaps we should go to my office.” He said—which was where they were going anyways.  It was prime opportunity as Haysport had something over on Zoey and there was no better time than the present to exploit it.
	“By rights, Ms. Spearsum, YOU should be expelled, also!” Mr. Haysport announced once inside his private office.
	Zoey was shocked—but then learned of Mr. Haysport “spying” on her whilst she smoked something funny and was seen kissing a girl, groping, fondling, and carrying on so that was not to the high standards of the students at the exclusive private school.  
	 After the revelation of Zoey’s smoking and girl-on-girl fooling around,
	“You can be expelled, too!” from Mr. Haysport.
	That would be the living end—for both she and her brother to be sent packing?  Not good.  Their parents had high hopes for their off-spring and the embarrassment of being kicked out of a very nice private school that was laid back and not as strict as some (but still had some rules and regs and policies to adhere) would just not go.
	“I’ll do anything,” Zoey pleaded, “anything.” She was desperate.
	“Yes,” said Haysport, “you will.” Then, leaning back in his chair, sort of kind of smiling, the tall black man who played an actor on some television shows as well as appeared in some commercials as a spokesperson, said softly,
	“You need a spanking.”
	Zoey blinked her pretty eyes, licked her glossy lips, looked a little confused, then approached her principal.  Standing right before him she was a little more than “confused” and a lot perplexed.  Haysport looked her over, noted her brother standing at the desk askew of his sister equally displaying confused perplexity.   Then,
	Up the inside of the girl’s short skirt to pat her delicious tight ass.
	“Are you a virgin?” Haysport asked.
	Zoey blinked her eyes and looked even more perplexed.  But she shook her head saying in a low tone, “No.”  but it wasn’t a horny boyfriend, cousin, uncle, or daddy.
	It was Toby.  Of course!
	Toby was ten, Zoey was thirteen.  And they were sexually active with one another and had been for awhile.  Awesome!  Toby had frizzy hair, dark blond, brilliant blue eyes, a bright friendly face, and penchant to get in trouble.
	Haysport caressed Zoey’s ass; paused to squeeze a cheek then slip fingers inside her underwear.  Zoey remained still, quiet, perplexed.  Toby stood still with a fixed face.  Haysport gently laid the girl down across his lap, raised her skirt up to reveal her fine ass, then stole a moment to admire.
	Then,
	SMACK!
	Not hard but deliberate.
	Zoey jolted.  Toby farted.
	Zoey fidgeted somewhat.
	So did Haysport.
	Admiring the girl’s ass another minute he landed another smack.
	Then another before slowly inching the lavender panties down fully exposing the girl’s ass.  He nearly melted—that was a nice ass.  Smoothing his hands over the ass that was inflamed he smacked it again—then again before delving his fingers into the crack.  Touching the “hole” got the girl to squirm some.  Toby was staring, cocking his head, and gouging the heel of his hand to the boner in his beige corduroys.
	“Come here.” Haysport said to the boy.
	Toby ambled over—eyes glued to his sister’s bare ass.
	“Take your pants down.” The black principal said.
	Toby didn’t even hesitate and lowered his pants—his hardened penis stood out in definition.  Haysport smoothed his hand over the girl’s butt, parted the cheeks and gawked at the pert hole therein—as well as the furry snatch associated.
	“Have you been in her ass?” Haysport asked.
	Toby shook his head that he hadn’t.
	In her mouth?  Yes.  In her pussy?  Yes.  In her ass?  No.
	Another smack and Haysport was just about at the end of how much he could hold off.  Zoey twisted some but was still perplexed with her young impressionable mind held fast by (what else) Haysport’s Electronic Mind Altering Device.  What else!?
	After smoothing his hand over the girl’s burning ass he had the boy strip off ALL his clothes.  Thereafter the boy was instructed to rub his hard cock against his sister’s ass—just like he did at home and secretly privately at school.  More than once had the two secretly met in the middle of the night on campus from their dorm rooms to “hook up” and fuck.  Since Toby was a young boy the brother and sister had engaged in some sort of sexual act.  Sucking had been the beginning then as Zoey got older she got bolder.  And since Toby was yet too young to cum she let him slip his bone into her pussy and fuck her brains out.
	Dennis Haysport planned on the same thing.  This after the boy poked his way into her asshole.  And it was while the boy pumped his sister’s virgin pooper that the administrator could hold off no long and unfurled his mamba—and into Zoey’s mouth it went.  The man reeled.  His eyes rolled and to describe the event—he couldn’t; suffice it to say that it was sensational!
	Haysport maneuvered himself into a better position whereas getting sucked was easier and even more dramatically sensational—and added with watching young Toby put it to his sister from behind.  This soon led the Principal to hoisting the young tart up onto his lap easing his black snake into the girl’s quim—this after firstly slapping/spanking his cock against her trim.
	Toby’s dick was a little “dirty” so he stood in-waiting for action until Haysport was finished with his task.  The naked Zoey grunted and groaned as the significant man cock slid into her womanness.  Haysport clung to her ass as he drove his cock into her sex; her bare breasts grinding against his chest sent him soaring with sexual delight.  He could feel his cock swelling inside the girl and wondered if she could feel that, too.
	Then—THEN the ultimate sensation was the release.  The release of seminal fluids not squirting but SHOOTING up into the young teen’s sex.  For a moment or two—or three, Dennis Haysport was not himself.  Not entirely.  The “release” put him into a euphoric daze.  There was the pivotal explosion reaching stratospheric heights; then there was the let down, the cool down.  It was better than drugs.  But of course, some drugs had a longer lasting power whereas an orgasm explosion was brief.  Which is why for both occurances—drugs/sex, there was a repeat business.
	For Haysport, after the fuck, he clutched the naked girl to him, caressed her young breasts, squeezed her ass, then gently removed her from his lap.  As the girl sat dumbfounded on the floor he took the naked Toby (with the dirty dick) into the personal office bathroom for a clean-up.  Then, Haysport himself went up into Zoey’s ass while she sucked off her brother’s freshly cleaned schlong.
	Thereafter, a little minding business whereas neither Zoey or her brother would remember the office incident.

*

Weather forecast—shitty with a chance of fucked
	Awakening with a bitch of a headache, ear ringing, and foggy perception, Alyssa could scarcely remember her name.  Her name, who she was (professionally) and how the hell she came to be in the situation that she was in:  which was spread eagled-like, tied securely, in semi darkness, and naked.
	A bit of panic ensued and consumed her but she managed to settle herself.
	Then she remembered—oh yeah, this was a part of my plan.  As a reporter, Alyssa wanted to be kidnapped—WANTED TO BE KIDNAPPED for a story she was composing.  “KIDNAPPED!”  for the purposes of insight on the kidnapper who was utilizing one of those Mind Altering Devices.  So many other reporters for her company and others were making headlines with various projects sexually deviant or not.  Some reporters had gone deep undercover to bust human traffickers, drug pushes, gang bangers, and of course, perverts equipped with EMADs.

	The exact details of how she wound up where she was wasn’t clear.  A lot of details were more than a little fuzzy.  Her mouth was dry and she had to wonder if yet she had herself been raped.  She hadn’t counted on that aspect.  She had hoped to catch the pervert in action; kidnapping kids and using a mind altering device of some sort to have his way.  Somehow she had overlooked the possibility of getting sexually assaulted herself.
	Being restrained, already naked, was not quite in her plans.
	After some time her head cleared, the ringing in her ears went away, and she could see a little better.  But there wasn’t much to see—it was dark and a little musty—like old oil in an old car repair shop.  Catching her breath and trying to clear her mind she saw a man—a naked man.  She began to breath hard a lose control of herself; she was in her early thirties, a newcomer to the televised reporter scene, new to the city, and new to the business of “deep undercover.”
	It was no stretch to conceive the notion that she had gotten herself deeper than she had planned.  She wasn’t sure if she had been boned prior—but, the man (who was lean, clean of body hair, blue eyes, shoulder length dirt blond hair and kind of dashing) approached her, parted her legs, and stuffed his man bone into her sex.
	It was rape.
	It was kidnapping.
	It was kidnapping for the purposes of rape.
	Then again, Alyssa, after initially freezing and gasping at the assault, orgasmed.  She had had plenty of cummings beforehand but no cock—no man dick before had ever rocked her world.
	“Oh my God!” she blurted.  Her entire body shuddered.  There was no stopping it; the feelings exploded exponentially from her loins streaming throughout her system.  As inch by inch the man’s fabulous cock invaded her her body screamed in sexual ecstasy.  It was almost torturous.  Expertly and did the man fully engage with her sliding his cock near effortlessly into her body then slowly-slowly-s-l-o-w-l-y pull out most of the way—then dash back in picking up the speed with each thrust.
	“Do me!” announced Alyssa.  And the dashing man with shoulder length hair did just that.  Then,
	She came.
	She orgasmed.

	The man’s thrusting prowess was out of this world—and rocked her world to the core.  There was a trembling followed closely by a shuddering as waves of sexual ah thrived thru her body.  “JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!” she blurted out of character.   Her pussy clenched (clenching the cock thrusting in her sex) and on and on it went putting young Angela in such a funk as she was barely aware of the change over.
	After the dashing Hollywood-like; Secret Agent-like man withdrew spewing quite a mess on her neatly trimmed trim, another figure came to be.  At first and Alyssa couldn’t place the new cummer save for the fact that he looked amazingly boyish.  As the second round of sex incurred—it WAS a boy!
	OMG!  WTF!?  BBQ!
	The boy had a boyish face and looked “young”; pre-teen young.  And he was naked.  Alyssa’s eyes went from his boyish face to his boyish cock—which was hard and not quite so “boyish.”  He was a lean fellow and properly positioned himself above Alyssa.  There was no expression on his face but he didn’t look drugged.
	Alyssa suddenly realized that she had been overwhelmed by an EMAD.  It was the only answer.  She assumed that the boy had also been done likewise.  Maybe.  His penis touched her pussy and she couldn’t help but flutter her eyes and arch her back.  No matter what, though, he couldn’t be as good as the previous cock.
	Another shudder came as the boy’s penis entered her.  Stray thoughts also came to mind; she was a woman; she was a woman who had been kidnapped.  She was a professional woman, a reporter.  Submitting herself to the wiles of some perverted man was just wrong.  	Wasn’t it?
	The man had called the boy “Rifle”, and as he began to pump Alyssa, Alyssa began to pump back.  She was getting off!  She knew—oh she knew that she shouldn’t.  The whole affair was wrong-wrong-wrong.  But she was deeply immersed in the ordeal that basically—there was no use in fighting it.  Doing so would only garner punishment of some sort and she wasn’t into that.  Alyssa C was into getting fucked.
	Rifle humped a good hump delivering a copious amount of boy jiz in about three minutes time.  He pulled out and humped her gash inciting even more incredible feelings that seethed throughout her body.  To be tantalized was one thing, but the former weather forecaster turned reporter was beyond suitable words to fit the moment.  She clenched her entire body and noted how hard her nipples were.  The boy grinded against her more shooting ropey strands of his boyish cum up her body thoroughly soiling her pussy.

	The man sat on his knees quietly whispering beside them—cooing to Rifle, masturbating all the while.  As soon as the boy had done his thing and was sweating, breathing hard, and sinking into euphoric downplay, the man moved to re-fuck the woman once more sending her into lofty sexual heights yet unknown to her.
	There were qualms, of course, about sexual relations and the feelings associated with such, but Alyssa dismissed them.  Whatever came about came about as “unwilling participate” in some sickos’ mind play.  She was unwilling (but not so as you know it.)  And the guise of being a “reporter” had waned.  All that mattered was getting fucked.
	After the man had done her again he moved up her body dragging his balls against her to settle his manly manhood between her 32Cs.  There was no expression on the man’s face—it was a full face, rock hard, cold steely eyes, and a uni-brow (cro-magnon man).  Slowly and did the man began to power fuck her titties.  Alyssa didn’t derive a great deal of pleasure from such despicable deed but the simple fact that it was a “titty fuck” gave her pleasure just the same—inasmuch as the deed seemed to give same to the man.
	A huge blast of spunk squirted from the jutting fucking penis.  Thick viscous ropes of cum splashed onto Alyssa’s face almost thoroughly coating it.  The cock surged and spurted more sperm until there was no more.  The man grinded continuously until his purple monster subsided.  Then he moved up even more dragging his sweaty musty balls across her face essentially “tea-bagging” her.  Alyssa had never been titty fucked let alone “tea-bagged.”
	Rifle came once more; his cock slowly entered her and he slowly pumped.
	Alyssa noted the boy’s kind face; it was round, freckled, brown eyes, very boyish.  Somehow, some bizarre how Alyssa found herself just a little turned on.  Oh, she knew it was wrong to harbor such illicit feelings let alone act on them; but then again—she was being forced.  It was then during the sex that the man released her arms from the handcuffs.  A little more light illuminated the “room” which Alyssa noted was NOT a room but the inside of a van.  The walls and ceiling were paneled, the floor carpeted.  There were no windows and no “doors” that she could see.  The illumination was not that good.
	The boy pumped steadily—slow and steady and finally delivered his second copious explosion.  He virtually melted thereafter and in fact laid down on Alyssa whilst the naked masturbating man smoothed a hand over the boy’s smooth sweaty bare ass.  Alyssa, with her hands finally free smoothed her hands over the boy’s backside—then his ass.  This caused the young woman to clench, shudder, and cum.  The boy’s dick was out of her pussy but that was ok; Alyssa humped him until it slipped back in and it was up to her to do the work thereafter.

But wait!  There’s more!
	An olde but a goodie
	No words were spoken, just a pat on the ass and Rifle turned about positioning himself (his sex) onto the non-distraught woman’s face.  Then,
	“Suck his balls.” the man cooed lowly.
	Alyssa had never-ever sucked a ball suck before—let alone a cock!  Rifle’s nads were virtually hairless and as she began to slurp on the sac another unique feeling began to surge thru her.  It was more than euphoric.  So much so that she wrapped her legs about the handsome young boy; her arms locked about his bare backside and the proverbial fuck was on.  It was wild!
	The man humped his salami with great earnest and also smacked the boy’s tender ass.  Alyssa let go all thoughts of morality and only wanted to get fucked.  How on earth she was going to report what she had gotten herself into she had no idea.  And at the moment—she didn’t care.
	After Rifle had settled with his nuggets in the woman’s mouth, he lay down and lightly began licking her furry cum laden pussy.  Alyssa cupped his lily white ass and gyrated her fur burger into the boy’s face.  Then, the man, Wulf Gurd, positioned himself at her head and up against the boy’s ass.  His saucy manhood went slappingly against the boy’s cheeks.  Instinctively, Alyssa parted the boy’s cheeks and the saucy cock went burrowing into Rifle’s not-so-virgin asshole.
	To say that Alyssa was “lost in thought” would be an understatement.  Somewhat mesmerized by Wulf’s slapping balls Alyssa delved into the twisted world whereas she remembered being spanked—and liking it!   It was truly bizarre, horribly wrong, very illicit, very immoral—but it was also incredibly exciting!  And what an eye-opener—‘specially when after the man had thoroughly—thoroughly sodomized the boy.  Up close and personal and did Alyssa see/witness the intrusion.  It was her first time seeing a sodomy act in action.
	There was a strange smell—an odor she had never smelled before.  The odor of cock plunging rapidly into an orifice.  What an eye opener!  She couldn’t believe what she was seeing right before her eyes!  It was incredible to sensational!  She couldn’t believe the young boy’s asshole could take such a thing—such a thing as the man’s manhood.  And when the man pulled out—a river of cum spilled forth drizzling down onto Alyssa’s face.  The boy’s hole was the size of a half dollar!
	Slowly, though, and did the hole close oozing out more of the man’s spunk.  The boy’s ball sac was right there—right there in her face!  The man smacked the boy’s lily white ass and Alyssa found herself licking—LICKING the cummy asshole!  Oh!
	The man returned to Alyssa’s cock hungry cunt—she hoped he cleaned it.

	Wulf moved in and out of the woman’s poon; moving out to hump the poon as well as rub himself all over Rifle’s face as well as in it.  Then it was back into Alyssa’s hot (and bothered) snatch for a righteous fucking.  Alyssa couldn’t believe it but she orgasmed—again!  Her entire body shuddered as wave after wave thrived thru her.  Rifle was still on her and as the torment la sexual tingled her to no end she suckled his hairless nads thrusting herself into her errant lover.
	It was so wrong but so right!

	There was a time lapse; when she awoke there was an obvious time from when she had been boned and when she saw the boy, Rifle, screwing some young girl just feet away.  It was Missionary with the girl’s legs up, her ankles on the boy’s shoulders.  This gave Alyssa the prime viewing of Rifle’s cock sliding into the unknown girl’s pussy.
	Immediately she knew it was wrong; the girl was notably a couple years younger and shouldn’t be in the predicament that she was in.  Neither should Alyssa for that matter.
	And the man in charge of their predicament was there, also—naked and masturbating.  He was also caressing the boy’s humping ass while the girl fondled and masturbated the man!  At first and Alyssa was aghast.  She very muchly knew that that was wrong-wrong-oh-so-disgustingly-immorally wrong.
	The man inched forward a bit more on his knees to whereas the girl could suck on his manly protrusion.  Alyssa found herself not so much sickened by the deed as she was intrigued.  Who was the girl?  Who was the boy?  Children of his, or more likely, kidnapped victims like herself.  There was some foreboding element swishing about in Alyssa’s mind—a feeling of dread and a realization that her situation as well as that of the children was horribly illicit.
	The young girl, Bell, sucked on the head of Wulf’s cock; her delicate fingers fondled his hairless sac and as Rifle was “right there” with his handsome young boyish face—he sucked Wulf’s cock, too.  As the children took turns slurping on his schlong, he sidewise checked the naked woman.  She was unrestrained but did not realize that she was so.  The side door of the van was open and she could easily make a play for escape—of course, Wulf was right there and could easily grab her preventing her escape.
	But escape was not in Alyssa’s plans.  Instead, she lay on her back, naked, mesmerized by the goings on before her and slyly fingering herself.  She was entranced and as Wulf and Rifle began to cum—so did she!  Wulf’s spunk spewed onto the little girl’s face as well as a couple of juts onto Rifle’s face.  The man humped the boy’s face, spanked his ass and watched as the former weather girl brought herself to ecstasy.

	Then, after the boy got his nut and rolled off out of the way, the girl sat up (with help from the man—her dad?) and she came crawling over settling her sex onto Alyssa’s face!  Alyssa was then prompted to “lick” and “lick it clean.”  Alyssa had no prob with that—although she was confused and just a little concerned.
	While she licked the little girl’s cummy fresh fucked cunt clean, Rifle came and licked out her cunt.  Then he fucked it.  Followed by the man inserting his cock and bringing her to another level of extreme ah.  Bell moved off her face and there he was—he was a handsome fuck.  Alyssa dismissed all the moral turpitude and fully submitted herself to the depravity.

One big happy hump fest (or feast…)
	What awoke her she didn’t know but she awoke with a startled.  It was dark, a little cool with the strong scent of heavy pines wafting in the chilled air.  Then, someone farted.  Sitting up she tried to get her bearings but her senses were overwhelmed by the scents—pines, fresh air, and nature as a whole.  Her eyes did at length adjust but there still wasn’t much to see—it was dark!
	The door of the van was open.  Outside was the man and the distinct sound of someone “taking a leak” was evident.  Alyssa had to “go”, too.  Alyssa held fast for a moment but as the seconds ticked by the need to pee increased exponentially.  Crawling to the door she got hit by a serious chill—and also noted that in the darkness of the van’s interior there was movement.  Rifle?  Bell?
	Suddenly there was the man before her—his cock was half erect.  There was a half moon bathing his nakedness and beside him stood the naked boy, Rifle, with the naked girl, Bell, on the other side.
	So who was in the van?
	“Going somewhere?” the man asked cooly.
	“I have to pee.” She said almost on a shaky voice.
	The man helped her out but then settled her on the instep of the van.
	“Open your legs.” he told her.  “Piss away.”
	The urge to “go” was great and there was no holding back.  She “pissed” away and it was a good one.  When she had finished, she shivered and waited—she felt that there was “more” to cum.  She was right.
	“Put your legs back.” The man told her.
	It was awkward and not comfortable but Alyssa pulled her legs back, she had fat thighs but otherwise was a size pleasing size.  The man fingered her pissy pussy, gouged her asshole, then thumb massaged her cunt until his cock was once more rock busting hard.
	But it wasn’t the man’s cock that invaded her—it was the young boy, Rifle.
	Oh well, Alyssa was easy and enjoyed the boy just as good.
	Rifle slowly entered Alyssa; it was good but the position of being on the instep and her back against the van’s riser wasn’t good and made the encounter less than pleasing.  Rifle’s “rifle”, however, made the fuck acceptable.  Then he pulled out and proceeded to pee on her!
	It was a little mind boggling; never before had Alyssa been peed on.
	Afterwards, more fucking then it was back into the van.
	It was then that she realized there WERE other people in the van.  	

Damnit, Goddamnit, damnit
	“Take off your clothes.”
	“Damnit.”
	There was movement from the back of the van; Alyssa strained her eyes to see clearly.  Her back hurt from resting against instep riser; she was a little chilled and just a little frightened.  The reality of how bad her situation could get began to settle within her and unsettle her.  There was still intrigue but a little concern, too.
	The sliding door was slid shut but not all the way.  It was early morning light and from the heavy dense pines, cedars, and spruce, along with the cool nipping air—they were up in the mountains somewhere.  Somewhere.
	Coming out of the gloom of the semi darkened was a girl about thirteen or so.  Dark hair, serious face that looked a little “boyish” and a year or so younger.  She wore a dull blue denim vest that once had been a full jacket but the sleeves were jacked.  On the command of “take off your clothes” the girl hesitated, someone behind her farted, then the vest was ditched and the girl timidly pulled off the undershirt.
	A light pink bra the girl had concealing her nice small apple sized breasts.
	“Keep going.” cooed the man.
	The girl, Sue Anne, sighed and removed her bra.  Her shoes were already gone; she laid down to shuck her jeans to reveal herself in basic white panties with a lavender floral print.  Not a sound was heard (or made).  The man sat on his knees watching as the girl slowly-slowly-s-l-o-w-l-y slipped the panties down.
	Wulf nodded, masturbated, then collected the panties and sniffed the crotch.
	Then, flogging his dog, he said “Suck me, or take a spanking.”
	The choice was stunning; Sue Anne gulped and blinked her pretty brown eyes.  Spanking or sucking?  Sucking or spanking?  Some choice!  Her eyes fell to the man’s mammoth manhood.  Slowly she shook her head—no way did she want that thing in her mouth.  So spanking it was.
	Angled against the naked man, Sue Anne tensed and locked eyes with Alyssa.  The first swat nearly sent her out of her skin.  Her eyes bulged and she was only partly aware of the man smoothing his hand over her bare teenage ass.

	Another swat and Sue Anne couldn’t breath.
	More ass smoothing—then some “digging.”
	Sue Anne didn’t take her eyes off of Alyssa’s face.  The man didn’t take his hand off of Sue Anne’s ass.  After fingering her asshole a bit more as well as her virgin pussy the girl received another hard swat that seriously sent her reeling and reconsidering her options.
	“Please,” cried out the rich girl, Blair, “stop this.”
	“You want her place?” Wulf shot back at her.
	Silence.
	“I’ll do it.” said another girl, Jo.
	“Take off your clothes, then.”
	“Goddamnit.” said Jo.
	Jo (Josephine) and Sue Anne were cousins; they hailed from the big city and were “street wise.”  To keep Jo from falling into a maze of unsavory ilk, her father put his girl into a private school.  She was indeed very smart, rough around the edges; but very smart.
	A green bra the girl had on under her boy’s shirt.  Green panties, too.  All the while she undressed herself she had a face of serious pissed offedness.  She glared hard at the man; she detested him and conveyed as much.  Sue Anne sat off to one side—she refused to cry or show much emotion but her ass seriously was burning.
	Jo lay out on her backside and shucked her green undies.  Wulf masturbated with a bit of a curious smile—a smirk?  His dark eyes gleamed as the girl slid her panties off.  She lay seething and venting as the man eyed her nakedness.
	“Virgin?” he asked of her.
	‘Fuck you!’ was conveyed but “No.” was answered.
	Before anything else—
	“I-I have to pee!” announced the rich girl.
	“Me, too!” almost shouted the chubby girl, Natalie.
	The naked masturbating Wulf Gurd snickered to himself then nodded his head told Blair to “take off” her clothes while Natalie had to keep hers on and “pee thru” her pants.  This totally shocked and dismayed the chubby girl; she was fifteen and it had been quite some time since last she had peed her pants.  But the need was great and the option was a hellacious spanking if she didn’t comply.
	So Natalie Greenwood pissed her pants and Josephine Polzneck got spanked.
	Rich girl, Blair, stood outside the van, legs spread, butt bare ass naked, facing the people in the van, and pissed away a long hard steady stream.  She tooted, too.  She was fifteen, came from a wealthy family, was not an “airhead” but was very blond, 90% snobbish, unaware of how poor people lived, and not quite a virgin.
	After her pee, the girl returned to the warmer inside of the van and was just as mortified and embarrassed as was her friend, Natalie, who had pissed herself.  Blair did not like being naked or in the situation she was in OR having to pee like she did.  Being out and out kidnapped, watching the others being molested, raped, and spanked, also ranked high on her Dislike menu.
	Josephine, who preferred “Jo”, positioned herself on her hands and knees while the naked masturbating man cinched himself up against her side and began swatting her ass for all to see.  Present to see were her friends, Sue Anne, Natalie, Dorothy “Tootie”, and Blair.  Jo bit her lips inward hard as the swats to her bare ass quickly began to burn then sizzle.  
	Just at the point whereas Jo would opt for some other form of punishment or to even “suck cock” the beating ceased.  The after affects, though, continued to tingle for quite some time.  Wulf looked to the lone black girl, Dorothy.
	“Oh shit.” breathed the girl.  She knew what was coming.
	“Take off your clothes.”
	“Goddam it.” said the girl dejectedly.  Slowly she began peeling off her clothes; good clothes.  All five girls were from a private school, upscale, wealthy parents.  Sue Anne wasn’t a student but a visitor on the verge of attending but leaning towards not-so and staying public and ditching school all together.
	Jo caressed her searing ass and held back the tears but her face was full of emotion.  Natalie sat with folded knees still horribly distressed about pissing herself; Blair sat nakedly with her knees folded against her, Sue Anne sat beside her with a very stunned face at the horror before her.  Once Dorothy “Tootie” was naked—
	“On your back.”
	Tootie first thought that she was going to get fucked, raped, sexually assaulted right off and right before her ogling dismayed friends.  She couldn’t help but cry—but she didn’t beg or plead and complied with the naked masturbating man’s commands.
	“Pull your legs back.”
	Tootie pulled her legs back and fully exposed her nakedness to her friends.
	The naked masturbating man caressed her thighs, ass, and then began fingering massaging her pussy and asshole.  Her emotions were high—as were Blair, Natalie, Jo, and Sue Anne.  Alyssa was a little emotional, too; there was more high concern growing.  It was one thing when the sexual deviancy was limited to herself, Rifle, and Bell—and the naked masturbating man.  The addition of the five girls was unsettling.
	After the fingering and gouging, the naked masturbating man smacked Tootie’s black hide causing the girl not only to flinch but yelp.  Another smack and the young black girl definitely wanted another option.
	“Suck me, or more spanking.”
	“OK!  GODDAMN IT!” the girl shouted as she squirmed in the undignified position.  Rolling over and coming to an all-fours position Tootie wept and stumbled as she took Wulf’s cock and began sucking it like she knew how.  She rubbed her ass while she gobbled the cock; the girls behind her were in super stunned mode.
	“Kiss her ass.” Wulf said to Blair and Jo.  “A hicky to each cheek.”
	Blair was aghast; Jo was so-so and was first to press her lips to Tootie’s black ass and “suck” it until a bonefide hicky was produced.  Blair was slow to respond but placed her own hicky before being handed the second horrifying command—
	“Lick her asshole.”
	“I will not!” said a defiant Blair.
	Wulf smiled and gave her a moment to reconsider and to Alyssa beleaguered eyes the prissy fussy girl leaned in and began “kissing” Tootie’s black cherry.  Natalie sat shaking her head in disbelief.  She wasn’t a “big girl” or chunky, but sided on the side of “hefty.”  But she had a nice face, a great smile, good attitude, and wet pants. 
	After the kissing and licking, and while the black girl continued to suck-suck-suck, naked Rifle came back into play.  His cock was ever so hard and up against Tootie’s ass.  A little slap, a gouge up and down the crack, and then he was in—sliding into her black cherry.  And it was “cherry.”
	Blair’s eyes widened in shock, horror, dismay, all of it.
	Jo’s mouth dropped.
	Natalie hung her head not wanting to watch.
	Sue Anne looked sick.
	Rifle had no expression and humped a good hump having his cock blasted out after a few minutes of earnest pumping.  The girls all stared at their friend’s hole after the boy moved out of the way ogling in awe as gobs of the boy’s cum oozed out.  Meanwhile, more awe was in order as Blair, Natalie, Jo, and Sue Anne watched Tootie suck the naked masturbating man’s cock.
	Then the naked masturbating man put his sucked cock into Tootie’s fresh fucked asshole.  The act only furthered the girls’ mind blow with Blair cocking her head in total absolute disbelief.  The man spanked Tootie’s ass some more, fondled her breasts, and diddled her pussy before blasting his own load and pulling out.  Once more her friends gawked at the amount of cum oozing out of her hole as well as the size of her hole.  The black girl rolled off to curl up and sob.  There was chaos in the minds of the girls.

	The chaos continued with Blair taking position on her hands and knees.
	Spanking soon ensued with the hapless teen sucking on the boy, Rifle.
	As it turns out, Blair was not so much opposed to sucking off a young boy nor was she opposed to being spanked.  There were limits, off course, not in boys but in being spanked.  The Spanker positioned himself against the Spankee holding her closer whereas when she began to fuss and thrash about the naked Josephine had to hold her legs.
	“Why are you doing this?” cried the girl, Jo.
	“Because I can.” replied simply the naked masturbating spanking man.
	Blair’s lily white ass turned a brilliant bright red.  The man parted the cheeks eyeing her hole and goodie.  Wulf began fingering the girl’s quim discovering that she was not a virgin.  Fifteen and NOT a virgin.  And the way she gobbled on Rifle’s dong suggested she was not a cocksucking virgin, either.
	Wulf eyed Jo.
	“Lick her.”
	Jo closed her eyes; Blair’s legs still fussed, her ass still burned, her mouth was still filled with young boy cock.  Confusion rained in Jo’s mind; she licked her lips then leaned in and began licking Blair’s asshole.  The girls surrounding her were stunned.  The naked masturbating man smiled and caressed Jo’s head tugging on her ponytail before smoothing his hand down her body to her ass.  A swift swat, another, and then one more before positioning himself behind the girl.  A cock smack to her ass, a gouge, and then he was in.
	“Oh my God.” blurted a very stunned Natalie.
	Tootie couldn’t speak.
	Blair hung her head; Rifle’s fresh sucked schlong pasted against her face.
	Jo blurted under her breath, “Goddamn it.”

*

Startling revelations revealing startlations
	Her beleaguered eyes closed tightly then reopened—the scene hadn’t changed; the high society girl, Blair Warnerder, lay nakedly on her back while the street wise wise cracking Josephine Polzneck sat on her face!  Meanwhile, the naked masturbating man in control of their minds pumped Blair’s pussy.  The boy, Rifle, sat with his butt against the back of a bench seat; his cock buried to the hilt in Jo’s mouth; Blair’s tongue dancing wickedly in Jo’s cunt.
	Alyssa was torn; it was wrong what was happening to no end.  But, she also found the goings on a little enticing and sexually fulfilling.  The naked masturbating man pulled out of Blair’s cunt and danced it all about; smiling and with a twinkle in his eye he contacted the besieged teen asking,
	‘who have you had sex with?’
	“Toby Longworth.” she answered aloud.
	And Toby Longworth is…?
	A sweet handsome eight year old boy she often babysat for.
	Tsk tsk tsk
	“He had wet his pants.” Blair explained.  And being the good babysitter she offered her assistance in helping him be clean.  The boy was somewhat mortified that he had at age eight wet himself; but babysitter Blair was good natured and calmed him—and stripped him of his clothing in the bathroom.  And somehow she couldn’t help but fondle his winkie.  And of course young Toby Longworth liked it.  A lot!  Then, somehow, Blair herself was unclothed and laying out on the bathroom floor with the clean naked Toby grinding away against her sex.  
	“Are there “other” boys?” an inquiring mind wanted to know.
	Blair hesitated; but pursing her lips and holding her emotions she nodded.
	Wulf glided his cock up and down the girl’s cummy quim and mused at her admission.  He had the poised Jo turn about and leave Rifle’s cock to slurp on his own.  The naked masturbating man’s cock went into the girl’s mouth as well as up against her nose; his balls against her mouth.  Rifle stood as he was against the seat masturbating himself; he eyed Jo’s ripe firm ass but with a flat unemotional face.  Wulf worked his cock in and out of Blair’s pussy as well as continuously all over Jo’s face.  Blair fussed as her pretty face was full of Jo’s pussy.
	Then Rifle came to insert himself into Jo’s pussy as well as her asshole.
	Natalie hung her head; Tootie was in total disbelief.
	After both Wulf and Rifle had filled Jo’s orifices with their liquid love cream, “Ok,” said Wulf, dismount.” Jo thankfully slid off of Blair’s sweaty naked body.  Her pussy tingled, her asshole was sore, her face soiled.  The eyes of the naked man looked over Tootie and Natalie.  Both girls knew what was in store for them.
	“Take up position.” Wulf said to the black girl.  Tootie was a pretty girl, black, a little naïve, kind of nerdy without being geeky.  Slowly she eased over to Blair who was mired in being distraught, disgusted, horrified, and aroused.  After Tootie had settled onto Blair’s face,
	“Hold her legs back.”
	Tootie grasped Blair’s legs and held them back.  The naked man then began spanking Blair’s ass and pussy.  Blair fussed and screamed out into Tootie’s cunt.  Tootie begged for the man to stop.  Strangely, he did—only to bend Tootie down between Blair’s legs and begin spanking her!
	Only when Blair’s ass was very-very bright red and Tootie’s face wet with tears, Jo, Natalie, and Sue Anne all begging did Wulf cease the beating.  Alyssa remained to herself still confused and unsure of her stance.
	Tootie slowly slobbered on Wulf’s cock; she wasn’t an expert and had never before slurped cock—but there’s no such a-thing as a “bad blowjob”.  She swallowed the bit of spunk that followed, too—and made a face.  Meanwhile, Rifle sodomized her and Blair licked the hole clean.
	Natalie was told to take off her clothes.  Pursing her lips, holding her emotions, nodding, the girl reluctantly removed her clothes.  She was a big girl but not out of proportion.  Wulf offered her a smile but it did little to soothe the chunky girl.  She had to lay down and spread her legs for the naked masturbating man to ogle.
	And ogle he did before ejaculating a hellacious load onto Tootie’s face.

Damnit, the final curse
	Time lapsed before Wulf was able (capable) of continuing his debauchery.
	Alyssa awoke with a monstrous headache and a mind full of confusion.  The scene in the van had not changed but the scene outside of the van had.  There were no trees but rolling lush hills with a gray sky.  Birds tweeted and there was a distinct odor of cow shit.  The sound of a mooing cow only emphised and confirmed that assumption.
	The naked man noted her awakened state of being; he smiled at her and brought her into the fray.  Which is to say brought her over where with her legs open he began earnestly licking her out followed by a reverent fingering.  Thereafter the man naked began gliding his cock up and down her fevered cunt before easing into her.  And after a couple a pumps, Josephine Polzneck came to sit on her face.  She wiggled, clenched, and Alyssa began to lick—partly on instruction and partly on her own.
	Twelve year old Rifle came and stuffed his smoking schlong up into the girl’s bung hole and slowly began to pump.  Jo laid down Alyssa’s body and sucked on Wulf’s cock when he pulled it out.  Alyssa’s legs were pulled back by Jo re-angling her ass and subsequent “hole”.  Wulf, after face fucking Jo, slid himself into Alyssa’s cornhole and pumped there finishing off in just a couple of minutes.
	Rifle had only a small amount of spunk to offer.  Regardless, Alyssa licked Jo’s hole of what spunk was there and received a fair amount of girl teen spunk onto her face, too.  Wulf moved out of the way just enough to allow Natalie to come in to lick out Alyssa’s pussy.  She received some swats as she licked and sucked cunt.  The man fingered her hole, squeezed her cheeks, and brought the girl to tears as her ass was beaten red.
	Jo remained poised on the former meteorologist’s face and Blair came to replace Natalie.  As she began her turn of tongue lashing the woman’s cunt she was also spanked to the point of almost passing out.  Each spank sent jolts thru not only herself but everyone present.
	When young Rifle McKormack finally did get his aching smoldering schlong back to working order it was promptly stuffed up the funk hole of Sue Anne Sharpwood.  Wulf Gurd was in the girl’s pussy pumping hard to get his nut.  More spanking followed; Rifle laid hand to Sue Anne’s ass while the hapless girl sucked on Wulf’s saucy cock.
	It was at this time that Alyssa’s mind began to unravel.  No longer tethered by the restraints of morality the young woman began to fuss and protest.  There still was no denying the sexual frivolity she had experienced or still found enticing; but the abuse of the “others” was a bit much.
	Wulf Gurd found that the young woman’s fussing (and protesting) was a bit much, too.  He also found that the means he had used to subdue her mind, as well as the “others” was slipping away and not as concrete as he liked.  His electronic device was failing him.
	“Damn.”
	Time for a new plan.

*

	In the cool of the morning in the area known as Schnott’s Landing, Alyssa Carlson awoke with a dull headache and severe ear ring.  Dizzy and confused the woman struggled to stand—but stumbled and fell into the wet grass.  She was also naked.
	There was no memory retention; who she was, name, address, or why she was naked in the middle of some mountain-like meadow.  And alone.  No, wait, there’s someone.  No, TWO someones—walking across the meadow coming towards her.  One was tall, lanky, gangly.  The other was short and portly.  The closer they got the more Alyssa got a case of the heebie-jeebies.  The tall one wore a dirty-dingy tank top; he had long black untamed hair as well as a short unkempt beard.  The portly fellow was just in a need of a shave—and a bath.
	“Hey, looky, Twofer,” chortled the portly man, “I tolt you it was a feminine!”
	The tall fellow, Twofer, nodded, rubbed his chin, and mused thoughtfully.
	“By golly you be right, Toe, she be a feminine for shore!”
	“What we gonna do wid ‘er?”
	Twofer paused, then chuckled, “Well, there’s onna one thang I canna think of!” and with that he reached down and grab holt of the lone naked woman’s leg.  Twofer’s brother, Toe, grab holt of the other and together they dragged her off to their barn to share with her their brotherly love.  End.

*

Happy endings
	Simon Camdam was bummed; Mondays were usually good causes to be “bummed”; school, beginning of the week, social inadequacies, and so on.  But school was out, Simon didn’t have to work, and his social status was good.  Simon was bummed ‘cause his favorite pet (and only) was missing.  “Happy” was Westie, a West Highland Terrier with nappy white coat.  He was five years old and had been Simon’s best pal for most of those years.
	Equipped with a computer, Simon printed out a flyer describing his pal and even offered a small reward—his month’s allowance.  His dad, a preacher, would bolster that offer should Happy be found.
	Happy was found on Wednesday.
	Happy was claimed on Friday—but not by Simon but by a man who claimed Happy was initially his and the pet, Garf, had run away as a pup leaving his young daughter distraught.  Although Simon had laid claim to the wayward pup, the original owner had rights and Happy became “Garf” once more—no wonder he ran away!
	Being bummed wasn’t something Simon was used to; he was generally a good kid, had brothers and sisters, average student in school, socially acceptable, and wasn’t about to let a little thing like “ownership” get in his way of being reunited with his best pal.  So, armed with his allowance and what money his dad promised AND some monies he had scammed from his siblings, Simon struck off to the new dwelling of Happy/Garf who had been re-renamed, Mr. Doodle.
	Mr. Hoohaw wasn’t swayed by Simon’s offering (which was almost one hundred dollars!  (or 77 euros))  However, the man wasn’t without compassion—er, correction, without an option other than being paid off.
	“Perhaps we can make another deal.” mused the man.  What Mr. Hoohaw did for a living Simon didn’t know—didn’t care.  He wore a beige cardigan, brown slacks, brown loafers; he was well groomed, dark hair with a touch of gray at the temples and seemed congenial—except when negotiating for Happy/Garf/Mr. Doodle (dog is going to have a complex beyond belief!)
	Simon was a go for whatever “deal” Mr. Hoohaw proposed.  Whatever it took to get his Happy back.  And against better judgment (and schooling from his parents) he entered into the Hoohaw house (a virtual stranger; but in Simon’s defense the man was not totally a stranger—he had been to Simon’s house laying his claim to Happy.)

	Once inside they went to the family room where sitting on a sofa was the man’s nine year daughter.  She was pretty; in a summery dress, long curly brown hair, brown eyes that would melt him, and a sweet smile.   She had seemed genuinely upset that she had to take Happy from him that fateful day.
	Her name was Amanda.
	Sitting beside her was Happy/Mr. Doodle who bounded in a huge leap racing to Simon.  The two met and the licking and giggling began.
	“I’m very sorry that this mishap had to happen,” said Mr. Hoohaw, “but as it has we need a new plan.”
	Simon only heard “I’m sorry” bla bla bla
	“I am willing to let “Happy” return with you,” he now had Simon’s attention, “if you are willing to do a little something for me.”
	“Like what?” and Simon was thinking “clean the garage”, mow the back yard, stuff like that—not what Mr. Hoohaw proposed.
	With a smile (a devious smile) Harlan Hoohaw said, “Take off your clothes.”
	Little Amanda giggled and flung her legs up and back revealing her already nakedness.  Simon wasn’t sure what he heard.  So, with his confused facial expression expressing his confusion,
	“I’d like you to take your clothes off.”
	Simon blinked his eyes still conveying “What?   Huh?”
	“And Amanda will, too.”
	Simon was more confused than ever.  His confusion waned, however, when the little nine year old slipped off her dress and she was naked.  Though Simon was the son of a preacher, he was a boy and a boy of eleven with emerging hormones.
	Sproing!
	Simon’s eyes were all over the naked girl; his mouth agape, cock hard, mind in a blur.  The boy breathed hard, blinked his eyes, and was in full wonderment.
	Mr. Hoohaw reiterated, “If you take your clothes off, you can have your dog back.”
	Simon’s confusion, though, continued to bum him.  This prompted Harlan to quip, “I’ll give you a hundred dollars if you do.”
	The boy was still confused—until Amanda sat on the edge of the sofa cushion, opened her young legs and began “fingering” herself.  Simon could barely breath.  Slowly—slowly—s-l-o-w-l-y he began peeling off his clothes.  His young eleven year old cock was hard-hard-hard.  Amanda turned about on the sofa and lay up against it.  Mr. Hoohaw spoke, 
	“Rub yourself up against her.”
	Simon held fast a moment but then stepped out of his clothes and almost numbly moved to Amanda and began rubbing his hard-on against her bare butt.
	Simon liked—a lot!  (of course, it wasn’t his first time rubbing his schlong against a girl’s bare butt—more on that later.)  Happily, Simon glided his dick all over the girl’s ass AND (on his own) up and down her crack.  Rub-rub-rub  And just when Simon was getting into it,
	“Turn around, honey.”
	But the command was not directed at Simon but to the girl.
	Amanda turned about; her butt on the very edge of the sofa cushion, elbows on the sofa so she was kind of angled on the dangle.  The girl opened her legs a bit and,
	“Go ahead, son, get into her.”
	Simon paused a moment then began again gliding his cock up and down the girl’s pussy before slowly-slowly-s-l-o-w-l-y easing himself into her sex.  Meanwhile, while Simon’s schlong delved into Amanda’s cunt her Daddy got naked also.  Then he brought out into play a video camera.  Oh!
	Simon wasn’t aware of the naked man (or the video camera) until after he had cum and pulled out of Amanda’s pussy.  Though Simon was a young eleven year old boy—he had been cumming for a while (much to the dismay of his sisters…)
	The feeling was euphoric, of course; he shuddered, farted, and squirted great ropey strands of spunk thoroughly coating Amanda’s snatch.  It was a good fuck.  He was a little exhausted—then a little concerned when he saw Mr. Hoohaw naked.  More concern there was when he saw the video camera.
	“What’s going on?”
	“Don’t worry about it,” Harlan told him, “just something to review later.”
	Simon was concerned though—and then embarrassed when the awareness of being so naked and vulnerable; not too mention screwing the nine year old girl; not too mention screwing the nine year old girl in front of her daddy!  Not too mention screwing the nine year old girl in front of her daddy—who was naked!
	“Do you think you can do her some more?” the naked man asked.
	Simon’s embarrassment wavered; screwing was the most fantastic thing ever!  He was boning both his sisters at home and was getting a handjob from his girlfriend.  Screwing an “extra” girl was an added bonus—but creepy and somewhat disconcerting with the extra girl’s daddy present—who was also naked.
	Simon shrugged, “I-I guess so.”
	Harlan Hoohaw smiled and made eye contact with his daughter.  She moved off of the sofa and to assume a new position—on her hands and knees.  Simon liked the new position—the new view.  The girl’s ass was nice; there was her crack, hole, and cum stained pussy he had just fucked.  His cock surged indicating new life.  He was ready.
	Then,
	While Simon once more invaded Amanda’s pussy, her daddy came closer with the video camera and power zoomed in on Simon’s cock sliding into Amanda’s cunny.  The feeling of fucking was too intense to be to upset about the close nakedness of Mr. Hoohaw—all that mattered was the fuck.
	Then, to further put Simon in awe about the whole ordeal he was in Mr. Hoohaw positioned himself in front of his daughter and she “willingly” took holt of his hard erection and began sucking it!  On one hand it was sooooo wrong and Simon knew it.  On the other, he was boning his sisters—that was soooo wrong, too.  Especially since their father was a preacher!
	Often and did Simon, his older brother, his older sisters (and one younger) got naked and messed around in a bedroom.  Simon and his youngest sibling, Ruthie, had always “messed around” as far back as he could remember.  They bathed together, slept together—until they got too old to bathe and sleep together then they started bathing and sleeping in different beds.  Bunk beds and in the same room.  They saw one another naked constantly.  When exactly they began “messing around” he wasn’t sure.  It didn’t matter—it was fun and felt good and they knew—they just knew that it was wrong-wrong-wrong.  Which made it so right!
	After some time of pumping into Amanda’s cunny, Mr. Hoohaw instructed the young boy to “go in other hole.” which was obvious (and also not virginal.)  The boy often pumped his sisters’ “alternate” hole; they sucked him and spanked him; they dashed about the house naked (when parental units were not home and pertinent windows closed from prying eyes) and—
	Spanked him?
	Well, in turn, he spanked them!
	And he got to spank Amanda, too.
	He liked spanking, being spanked—not so much.  But laying his hands on his sisters’ behinds?  That was cool.  He and his brother, Matt, didn’t apply their hands too hard but just enough to turn the lily white skin a slight shade of red.  None of his three sisters really preferred “up the ass” sex; they gave handjobs and oral and spread their legs with ass play last on their list.
	Matt James was the oldest, he was eighteen and not so much destined to “lead the flock”, join the Army, or go to college.  Matt’s aspirations were cloudy and uncertain—community college or doing something for the environment but definitely not following his father to the pulpit.
	Next in the Camdamn family lineage was not-so-straight laced Mary.  She was sixteen, tall, long light brown hair, and had a penchant for getting into mischief.  Lucy was next, same hair color but not as mischief making as her sister—but she did get into trouble just the same.

	Simon was next in the family line and the only one with blond hair!
	Ruthie came along lastly; she changed her hair style on a monthly basis, sometimes weekly.  Like Amanda, Ruthie was nine years young.  She was a happy-go-lucky kid, a bit of a tomboy, and gave Simon his first blowjob.  Being a preacher’s kid meant nothing—they were “good” for appearances when appearing in public (especially at church).  But at home, at school, other places other than church, the Camdamn kids were like other children.  Not evil, but not 100% good, either.
	Simon had a good rapport with Ruthie; they were close in age and enjoyed being “naughty.”  So did the other sibs.  Ruthie was also Simon’s first fuck.  By the time Simon got involved with Lucy and Mary—brother Matt had already boinked them.  But that was ok, Simon didn’t know the difference (or feel the difference.)  His sisters were giving—and then some!  Usually there was a “privacy” policy in the Camdamn household.  Usually.  But one day—when the house was “safe”, siblings Matt, Mary, and Lucy barged in into Simon and Ruthie’s bedroom they shared finding the two engaged in sexual intercourse.
	Can we say “busted”?  thought you could
	The kids jumped off of the bed with Simon’s pud slathered in pussy juice and a bit ‘o spunk.  It would have been far worse had it been their parents.  Far-far worse.  Turns out, though, Matt, Mary, and Lucy had been doing the exact same thing for years—with Lucy busting in on Matt and Mary and conniving her way into their scene (or she would tell on them if they didn’t.)  Turns out, Matt had long wanted to have some fun (sexual) with Lucy—and when Ruthie got a little older, say nine or ten then he wanted to have that same fun with her.  What’s a brother for?
	Matt whipped out his cock—already hard and ready for action (more action.)
	Mary stripped off her green tee with Lucy semi reluctantly stripping off her own.  Ruthie eyed Matt’s cock; he was the oldest, eighteen, and had quite the stiffy.  Simon was a little embarrassed; Mary slipped off her pants and was wearing no underwear.  She made her way to her other brother, eyed and smiled at his slathered schlong and putting her fingers about it giving it a loving stroke and squeeze eased the timid boy’s fears and embarrassment.
	Lucy also had no panties or bra on and came to her brother’s side casually watching as Ruthie sucked on Matt’s offering.  Mary gobbled on Simon’s offering and Mary watched the door—just in case.  When their Mom went shopping—she made a day event of it.  When their Dad went out the door—no telling about him.  He made visits to the hospital, someone’s home, a care facility, a lunch with someone from the church or another church, meeting with city officials, and even spent time at his church.  

	He was not predictable and sometimes did come home unannounced and almost very nearly caught his children in the midst of doing something naughty.  That sometimes made it all the more intriguing.  Matt and Mary mostly were the ones “doing something naughty” and very nearly getting caught; Lucy only participated when she knew for some absolute assurance that she/they wouldn’t get busted.
	Simon was most enthused; especially with Ruthie working his cock as well as Matt at the same time.  Then, while jerking one boy’s schlong she suckled on the other.  Then the naked Mary took over playing with Simon’s schlong while Matt laid down on the floor; Ruthie took up position on him grinding her smooth hairless pussy onto his slickered up slobbered on cock.
	The view only got Simon all the harder.
	Ruthie grinded her sex—grinded her sex—grinded her sex against her brother’s manly tool.  The view was fantastic!  Naked nine year old Ruthie sliding her sex up and down eighteen year old brother Matt’s cock!  Matt’s hands were clamped nicely on the young sibling’s ass parting the cheeks giving Simon, Mary, and Lucy a hellacious view.  It gave Simon a reason to cum—and he did so.  Mary didn’t mind, she clutched his balls and slurped his schlong (and offering.)
	Although fucking a pussy was great, getting a hummer was also great—especially if the one giving was good at it.  Ruthie was good at it and so was Mary.  So was Mr. Hoohaw’s daughter, Amanda.
	Regardless, Simon felt uneasy being in the midst of Amanda and her naked daddy.  It was more than weird and odd; it was uncomfortable.  Stuffing his pork into Amanda’s pussy, asshole, and mouth—well, that was good.  But being naked with the girl’s naked daddy?  That was a bit much.
	More “bit much” was to come.
	On strong suggestion by Mr. Hoohaw, Simon left the family room to the hall bathroom to shower and clean up.  His cock ached, it smoldered and tingled.  A hot quick like shower would just be fine.  His mind was a buzz with what he had gotten himself into.  It was bizarre!  Weird, even!  He couldn’t wrap his mind around it—he knew Right from Wrong.  He knew screwing his sister was incest; he WAS the son of a preacher and he knew most of the parables, fables, and whatnot of the Bible.  He knew what Sodomy was, Oral Copulation, Missionary.  He knew what sex was and at his age he should only know without participation.  And masturbation, too; he knew a lot about that.
	Fucking Mary and Lucy—that was cool.  Fucking Ruthie?  da bomb!  He didn’t know what it was about it—but she was his first.  She had a smallish body, hairless pussy, and was willing.  That was the coolest of all.  Getting do have sex with Mary and Lucy—that was pretty cool, too.  It was like some sort of conquest he guessed.
	Mary had a different manner of incestuous engagement; she got into it and did so quickly.  She was loving but quick about it.  She liked toying with her brothers’ puds, fondling (squeezing) their balls, and spanking.  She liked to be spanked but enjoyed spanking also.
	Lucy was slow about her lovemaking.  She liked to frig her sex and watch the others “do it.”  Participation was alright and she was willing but more subtle about her involvement.
	Returning to the family room and young Simon wasn’t prepared for what he saw.  His jaw dropped and his stomach twisted—there on the oriental rug on the wood floor was the naked Amanda getting doggie styled by the dog, Happy/Garf/Mr. Doodle.
	And Mr. Hoohaw was filming.
	“What the fu—!?” blurted Simon.
	“It’s all about the Benny’s.” Harlan said casually.
	“Benny’s?”
	“Hundred dollar bills, Benjamin Franklin,” Harlan explained, “the inventor, publisher, non-president.”
	Happy happily happed Amanda all this time.  It was the oddest thing.  Young Simon had never heard of such a thing let alone seen it.  It was a little appalling and a lot disgusting.
	“You see, son,” further continued explaining casually Mr. Hoohaw, “there are certain people in this world who like stuff like this.”
	His explanation did nothing to curb Simon’s confusion (and disgust.)
	Then,
	“Tell you what,” almost smiled the naked naughty man, “you suck my dick and I’ll give you a Benjamin.”
	Simon blinked his eyes.  This was getting to be a bit much.
	But a hundred dollars?
	No.
	No way.
	No fucking way.
	Still, though…
	Still no.  He didn’t even suck his brother’s dick!  There was no inclination to suck or be sucked!  No indications to sway to “the other side” with his friends—the thought of homosexual tendencies never occurred to him.  Not even for a hundred bucks.
	“I let you fuck my daughter,” Harlan said cooly, “the least you could do is spread your cheeks.”
	‘Spread my cheeks?’ Simon was confused—for a second.  Then,
	“Oh shit!” but a hundred bucks was a hundred bucks…
*

A wolf in sheep’s clothing—is still a wolf
	The girl (Target) looked forlorn—which was exactly how Wulf liked ‘em.
	A boy checking out a young girl doing cartwheels (while wearing a short-short kiddie dress that revealed her yellow panties) got his attention also.  Another young girl “digging” was intriguing as was the teenage girl who seemed impatient as she leaned against the wall outside a toy store all the while fingering her cell phone all the while supposedly watching her siblings—the aforementioned.
	With security cameras, roving security guards, broad daylight, making acquisitions was a toughie—even if equipped with a mind altering device.  It was doable but precautions had to be made.  With that said—
	Wulf Gurd had no morals.  None.  Maybe one dangling lingering participle of a moral fiber; but even with that their were conditions and options and mitigating circumstances.  All things were negotiable.  No one was too young—some girls were too old for him, though; preferences were limited to the teen years.
	Shannon, the girl who had been fiddling with her cell phone, was thirteen.  A nice looking girl, long silky brown hair, supple breasts, nice form, short mid-thigh length burgundy non-pleated skirt with light purple flowery blouse.  She wore braces, turquoise earrings, a turquoise large bauble ring, and a watch (with a turquoise band.)  Sitting inside the van with her legs folded, unsecured (but in her mind she was) the girl had a confused look etched upon her sweet face.  The confusion escalated when a boy stood up in her view.  He was naked and had a raging boner.
	‘have you seen your BROTHER naked?’ it was an obvious question but one that had to be asked (and answered.)
	After blinking her eyes, licking her lips, the girl nodded Yes.  It was a given.  Her brother, ten year old Mark, was a “streaker” and often went boldy nude when he could get away with it.  unfortunately, for him, there were tattletale sisters who often ratted him out—Shannon not being one of them.  And the sibling sisters who ratted him out only did so in blurting out the fact of the matter to their parents and not meant in any sibling manner of in-fighting; to get back at the brother; or even just to get him in trouble.  Kids will be kids and they will blurt out stuff that they should actually keep to themselves.
	There were other questions but Wulf dismissed them; save for one.
	‘do you have a boyfriend?’
	“Yes.” Shannon answered aloud.
	‘do you have sex with him?’
	Shannon’s breath was taken; her mouth dropped and she reared her back in shock.  She couldn’t answer—she wouldn’t answer.  Pursing her lips she clenched herself rebuking the invasion in her mind.
	However, Wulf’s magnificent contraption had the ability to pry and wrestle free those deep seeded answers.  This unlocked the answers relating to the girl’s boyfriend.  She gave him handjobs, they French Kissed, he felt of her titties and got his hand down inside her panties to finger her pussy.  But she was still a virgin.  She was almost ready and willing to give herself but then again not so much.  She feared getting pregnant the most regardless of Hank’s use of a condom.
	The boy before her (with the raging boner) was not her brother; he was a bit older, longer hair, blond, and more tan (all over.)  then,
	‘suck his cock.’
	Once more and Shannon’s breath was taken.  The boy turned to face her; he was about twelve, two years older than her brother.  His penis was not unlike her boyfriend Hank’s; long, pinkish kinda, and stiff-stiff-stiff.  Shannon shook her head—no way—no how.
	Yes way—yes how.
	Slowly-slowly-s-l-o-w-l-y the girl leaned forward.
	Sitting close to her though she was not aware, Shannon’s siblings sat in bewilderment watching not so much as in shock or dismay but in awe as their sister put her mouth around the naked boy’s penis—then went all the way down on it!
	“Whoa!” breathed Shannon’s streaker brother, Mark.  Siblings, Teresa, Lori, and Katey sat in awed silence, mouths agape, eyes wide.
	Rifle placed one hand on his hip, the other on the back of the girl sucking his cock.  He moved his hips back and forth casually checking the others—the girls.  He sighed, they were too young really (for him.)  Teresa was a mere eight, Lori was six and Katey a year younger!
	Soon and Shannon was cupping the boy’s balls and caressing his ass.
	Soon and Rifle was shooting a fresh hot load of ball juice into the Shannon’s mouth.  At first and Shannon did not like the distaste of the spunk matter.  The goo splattered hotly and ickily into her virgin mouth.  And at first the distaste was difficult to like—she made a face, retched, gagged, and very nearly barfed.  But then—
	‘you like the taste of his spunk.’
	No—no she didn’t.
	‘you like the taste of cum.’
	No, not really.
	‘you like the taste of sperm.’ splashing into your mouth, coating your tonsils, gurgling in your throat…
	“Yes, I-I love to suck cock and swish cum.’
	A few minutes later and Shannon was laid out, legs open.  The boy she had just sucked on his knees between her legs looking her nakedness over.  He still cast his eyes to the other girls—he knew what was in store for them.  Shannon lay still, clenching the carpet fibers she lay on.  Confusion reigned supreme in her mind.  Rifle leaned down and began licking out her virgin pussy.  
	“Whoa!” blurted Mark again.  He had never heard of such a thing let alone see it.  He couldn’t even imagine such a thing.  And speaking of thing—HIS thing was just as hard as Rifle’s thing.
	‘take your clothes off.’
	Mark blinked his eyes and stared into a black void.  He saw only the boy, Rifle, his sister Shannon, and his other sisters.  Nothing else, no one else.
	‘take off your clothes.’ the Voice repeated.
	Mark licked his lips thoughtfully then for no other reason than believing he was readying to take a bath he peeled off his shirt and pants and then undies.  His penis WAS hard.  Further instruction from the Voice put him up at his sister’s head; then, said sister began fondling his balls as well as his cock.  The other boy had licked his fill of the girl’s cunt and moved into primary position.  
	Shannon gulped, clenched the carpet harder, made a little yelp as her hymen was breeched, then went into an odd euphoria as the boy on top of her began to pump.  The girl had no idea what sex actually felt like.  There was discomfort mixed in with pleasure.  She kind of got into it but for her “first time” it was also a little frightening.
	Having just cum in Shannon’s mouth, getting umph enough to cum again was a toughie.  Doable, but a toughie.  Rifle humped, pulled out and grinded against the girl’s cunny before delving back in to hump until blowing his load with great reverence.  It was catatonic.  The boy shuddered and made deep vaginal penetrations; he made announcements—“I’m cumming!” and other outbursts that were unknown to human tongue.
	When Rifle pulled out he shot an amazing strand of spunk up Shannon’s body.  More of his spunk pooled on her sopping wet cunny.  The boy lay off to one side of her with his pud leaking more spunk against her thigh.  Shannon lay heaving with her mind and body in a blurry whirl of mixed emotions—none of which she had ever experienced before.
	Wulf worked his own organ and was going to take it to the fresh fucked sweating heaving girl—then heard a noise like a car rolling up.
	Damn—he hated distractions.