August Moone
Book 9
Chapter 25
And the Saga Continues
Country (sex) Life

	A young doctor moves out to a small community to replace a doctor who was retiring.  The older doctor suggested that they go together on his rounds so the community could become used to him. 
	At the first house a woman complains, “I've been a little sick to my stomach.”
	The older doctor says, “Well, you’ve probably been overdoing it on the fresh fruit.  Why not cut back on the amount you’ve been eating and see if that does the trick?”
	As they left, the younger doctor said, “You didn’t even examine that woman?  How did you come to the diagnosis so quickly?”
	“Well,” chuckled the older doctor, “I didn’t have to.  You noticed that I dropped my stethoscope on the floor?  When I bent over to pick it up, I noticed a half dozen banana peels in the waste basket.  That was what probably was making her sick.”
	“That’s pretty clever,” said the young doctor, “If you don’t mind, I’d like to try that at the next house.”
	At the next house they spent several minutes talking with a young woman therein.   She said that she just didn’t have the energy she once did.
	“You’ve probably been doing too much work for the Church,” the young doctor told her.  “Perhaps you should cut back a bit and see if that helps.”
	As they left, the older doctor said, “I know that woman well.  Your diagnosis is almost certainly correct, but how did you arrive at it?”
	“I did what you did at the last house and when I bent down to pick up my stethoscope I noticed the vicar under the bed!”

*

Family profit
	Some empty lots down from the Scarcarion family and there was the Hurricane family.  Nice modern home, big lot with trees, shrubs, plans for a pool.  It was country living at its moderate finest.

	Cray and Sage Hurricane enjoyed their home—and each other.  They both were prior marriage having one child each; Misty and Cinnamon.  Misty was Cray’s daughter, she was twelve.  Cinnamon was five.  They had been together just under a year and were still adjusting.  Little Cinnamon adjusted easier to country life and blended marriage than Misty.  She was a city girl, Misty; and living in the stinky farm country wasn’t to her liking.
	One night, while her parents were “doing it” for the umpteenth time, Misty slipped out her bedroom window.  The air was crisp, clean, and clear—usually there was the smells from the local barnyards and stables surrounds her modest home.  It had rained recently so that helped clear the air; in a few hours, though, it would be muggy and stinky again.
	Misty had had enough it.  School would soon be starting and she knew no one.  She was not a country girl and didn’t think the city was all that far away.  By car it was about an hour, she figured walking and she could be there by morning.  She would go to her friend’s Carlie’s house and stay with her.  Her parents loved her so it shouldn’t be a problem.
	Now, which way was the city?

	Sage hadn’t had too many lovers and regarded her current love as “pretty good.”  Sometimes he was quick and sometimes slow and methodical.  Most times he took his time and was enamored with her.  He seemed to be a deep thinker who relished having a good fuck.
	Often and it was Cray thinking of fucking other girls.  Misty came to mind, his own daughter!  Also, his ten year old niece!  He had several nieces, some in their teens, some younger than ten.  He didn’t care; he thought of screwing each and every one of them.
	What a guy!
	After the fuck—which was pretty good by fuck’s standards,
	“We made just enough to pay extra this month.” Cray declared.
	“Can we do that for next month?”
	Cray mused, “They want something different.”
	Sage cuddled to her hubby, they were still newlyweds and the spark was just as bright as it was when they met.  Cray traced the love of his life’s backside; when he got to her butt,
	“However,” he paused.
	“What?” she asked finding his hard cock pressing against her.
	“I’ve learned we CAN make more.”
	Making pornos for miners in remote locals was profitable.  Very profitable.
	“What do they want?  Me sucking off a horse?”  hmmm
	“No, not exactly.”
	Then quickly before she twisted his dick off,
	“They are interested in younger stuff.”
	Then quickly before she twisted his dick off,
	“And they’ll pony up some serious cash, too.”
	“How much?” note she said “How much” and not “How young?”
	“A new car, that ring you like,” pause for dramatic effect, “trip to Vegas?”
	Sage was floored.  Cray could see the wheels in her mind whirling.
	“Who?” she finally asked.
	“Good question.” He was going to leave it up to her to finger it out.
	Already, though, Cray knew his new wife was no angel; when she was a teenager (and he knew her then, too) she was into young boys.  Not many, though; three.  He knew of one incidence where she was with a young eleven year old boy.  Sage and several other girls her age, thirteen, had a babysitters club whereas they banded together forming a “club” to serve their community.  They would then pool their monies for parties (for the kids) and divvy up some for their efforts, too.
	Cray also saw her “teaching” an eight year old boy to fuck a seven year old girl—both kids under her care for the day.  She was far from angel-like.  Very far.  Cray himself had diabolical tendencies; he himself found babysitting duty more profitable than menial chores and tasks.  And if not so profitable there were other rewards—sex!
	Well, one girl blackmailed him into being naughty with her when she confronted him with the fact that she knew that he was banging her sister.  Their parents didn’t like Cray so much and definitely didn’t want him around the house OR their teen daughter.
	The blackmailing sibling wanted to “see” Cray’s schlong.
	He obliged; masturbated for her, but she wouldn’t “show/tell” herself.  Kind of irked Cray.  Then, as it happened, the girl got a nasty cold and was doped up on meds.  The folks were long at work and the girlfriend in the shower.  Cray was over and found the girl in question zonked out to the world on powerful over-the-counter cold medicine.  This made it easy for him to lower the covers—then lower her underwear.
	He didn’t do much; keeping a keen ear for the shower shutting off he fingered the unconscious child, then riskingly mounted her, whipped out his dick and humped her slit until cumming off.  No penetration but he did gouge the head of his schlong into her crevice.  Then he moved up straddling her chest pushing his cummy cock into her mouth.
	“Didja have a good look now, bitch?” he scoffed.
	Ah, good times.  Good times.
	Sage knew of Cray’s “indiscretions” as much as she had detailed him hers.
	Pursing her lips she stared into Cray’s eyes.
	“Who?” she asked again furrowing her brow.
	Cray “Crayon” Hurricane wasn’t going to say.
	“We can make boat loads, honey,” he said with his heart pounding, “that ring you want, a new car, something for the girls.”
	Sage paused.  The girls.
	“The girls?” she said blinking her pretty eyes.
	“They’ll pay—they’ll pay well.” He said getting a mild case of the heebie-jeebies.  Sometimes he could read his wife—and sometimes not.
	No response from Sage.  She was thinking.
	“Big money, for young ones.  T-they liked what we did, and they paid us off for it,” pause for frightened effect, “but they’ll pay MORE for seeing young girls.”
	Sage couldn’t wrap her head to the proposal.
	“How young?” she asked.
	“Doesn’t matter.” Or should he have said “Does it matter?”
	Sitting up in bed she shook her head.  Not a good sign.
	Cray sighed, turned onto his back trying to think of a way out.
	“W-were you thinking—Misty?”
	No, not really.  Try again.
	Then,
	“How would we—?”
	“Oh, I-I was thinking drug them, like I did with Sara.”
	Sage nodded.  Then she checked her husband, “You rat, you’re thinking of Cinnamon!”
	Busted.
	But her voice was not harsh or pissed or “I’m gonna rip your balls off.”
	Her eyes told the tale of her mind—she was thinking.
	“How much?” she said in a high pitched query.
	“Boat loads.”
	“Better be.”

*

Misty in the woods
	Trekking thru the woods in the middle of the night might not have been the best idea Misty Pigweed-Hurricane ever had.  Of course, she was only twelve and hadn’t had the too many pertinent decisions to make in her young life.  The air was cool—very cool.  She had outerwear, her daypack crammed with clothes, some treats, sodas, and her teddy bear.  What she didn’t have was a clear idea of where the city she aimed for was.
	She figured she ought to stay off the road and was wise enough to know not to accept rides from anyone.  The modern day pervert had been kicked up a notch with the advent invention of mind controllers.  So in the woods she stayed trying to keep the road in sight.
	Of course, in the bleak of night—good luck with that.
	Coming to a good sized creek she thought better of crossing and Misty decided to follow it down to where it might be safer to cross, then tredge back up the hill to where the road was and continue her trek.  Twice she slipped with one time nearly going into the creek!  Catching her breath from narrowly getting soaked she tried keeping just enough away from the creek—then slipped again dropping her flashlight that conked out and was unable to find it.
	“Shit!” she bitched.
	Then,
	“What the hell’s that smell?” an offensive odor was suddenly upon her; she had been in the country awhile and had come to know many of the smells that permeated the air.  None of which she liked or enjoyed.  Horse manure she had detected most often but the new smell was—was—was not horse shit.  It was worse.  She couldn’t describe it but it was unpleasant.
	Another slip and another close call.  The creek was traveling faster, the slope of the hill was more and the woods thick with brush, tall grass, rocks, boulders, logs, tree limbs—all the stuff you’d find in the woods.  And making one’s way in the middle of the night WITHOUT a flashlight?  Not good.
	The ground was wet from recent rains making any attempt at getting a grip near impossible.  Then she slipped again and just missed going into the raging creek.  In her panic she made her experience worse by sliding down the grassy hill smacking into logs, boulders, and all the aforementioned “woodsy” things.  She had exceeded panic mode.
	A clip to the chin, a bash to the shin, then a royal pain to her butt.
	This wasn’t working out.
	At the bottom of the hill she cartwheeled just missing a nasty craggy boulder.  She was slammed, though, onto her stomach knocking the air out of her.  Panic mode times infinity.  She gasped for breath; she couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe.
	Then,
	As her panic diminished—but only slightly and only for a moment.
	Mired in mud, muck, muck and mud, bashed, banged, binged, the young girl found herself on all fours.  This wasn’t working out.  Slowly-slowly-slowly she came to her knees.  It was dark—damn dark.  But as the dark foreboding clouds above her parted revealing the full moon something was before her.
	It was not a tree.  Not a rock, not a boulder.  It was alive.
*

Lights!  Camera! Cum!
	Cray was in panic mode—but on a different level.
	Sage was on panic mode—the regular level.
	“What if she wakes up?”
	“Not a chance, she’s five,” he scoffed, “gave her enough cough medicine to knock down a horse!”  good enough.
	It was after midnight, outside and the weather was iffy.  Little five year old Cinnamon had her own room and it was stuffed full with plush toy animals; some in nets in the corners.  A fish tank on the desk; posters of cartoon characters on the wall; and a paint scheme of a jungle on the walls, too.
	Little Cinnamon was sound to sleep—aided by a couple heaping helpings of cold medicine (enough to knock down a horse!)  Sage couldn’t believe she was doing this.  Cray couldn’t believe she was doing this…
	“You sure, now?” Cray asked for assured clarity.
	Sage nodded, sighed, and set up the tripod.
	Cray disrobed (he dressed when giving the sleepy child her medicine for security’s sake.)  Then on the bed he gently pulled down the covers.  Sage had some trepidations; it was one thing to mess with someone else’s child but clearly another with her own.
	However,
	The remote miners were offering up serious cash.
	There was that ring she wanted.
	The new car.
	Pay a few payments on the house.
	Something for grumpy Misty.
	“W-what are you going to do—exactly?” Sage asked curiously.
	Cray lowered the little girl’s basic white panties, lifted her legs and began fingering her pussy and asshole.  A subtle glance to his wife and then the camera and after a brief hesitation she turned on the camera on the tripod.  Cray fingered her—fingered her—fingered her until such a time as he couldn’t hold off any longer and began massaging her delicate poon with his fully erect manhood.
	Sage was a little taken but zoomed in on the act of defilement and was almost aghast when he came.  A huge quantity of cum coated Cinnamon’s sex; he rubbed his dong all over the mess almost trying to penetrate the slit.  He didn’t but it looked as if he were.
	Then he moved up to her sweet angelic face.
	The lighting in the room was dim giving just enough light for the camera.

	Sage held her breath watching as her new hubby did horrible things to her daughter—like placing his cock into her mouth making her suck him.  She never stirred, though, so she guessed it was alright.  So long as the child wasn’t aware of being molested—then it was alright.  Right?
	More cum was spilled going into the child’s mouth.  He humped her face, put his balls in her mouth, and fingered her pussy until he was spewing again.  And as a finale he attempted anal entry before showing his wife just how drugged up the girl was—he spanked her.
	“Get over here, lick the cum up.” from Cinny’s cum laden pussy.
	Somewhat timidly and hesitant but sated that her daughter was unaware, Sage complied.  She sucked the cum up off of her daughter’s cunt and then sucked her husband’s prick that was right there, too.  The two then made dramatic passionate love on the bed (with the girl beside them) that only added to the bonus they would receive from the hard-up miners.

da gronk!
	It was pink—er, pinkish.  It was tall.  It was menacing.  It was frightening.
	And young Misty Hurricane was standing before it.
	“Holy shit!” she blurted.
	“GRONK!” said the pinkish creature—loudly.
	Misty fell down.
	It wasn’t a bear—clearly not a bear.
	But in the dark, drizzling rain, it could have been a bear.  (but it wasn’t.)
	“GRONK!”
	“What—the—fuck!?” Misty said.
	The towering creature was motionless.  It stood a little over 2 meters tall, maybe more!  It wasn’t pink-pink but a shade of pink.  Details were a little sketchy; it was dark and drizzling rain.
	There was nothing Misty could do but sit in the mire—and wait.
	Then, to her right something moved.
	“GRONK!” said the creature, da gronk.
	“Shut up, you idiot!” said a gruff voice.
	Misty clenched herself and watched in some odd horror as yet another creature slithered into view.  Slithered not like a snake but like a slug, a giant slug.
	“I’m fucking having a dream.” said Misty.
	“Right,” said the newcomer, “it’s all a fucking dream.”
	Breathing hard and confused harder, Misty tried to get a grip—but failed.
	“What—the—fuck?” she blurted again.
	The newcomer moved to where when the rain stopped again, the clouds parted, and light revealed revealingly a man.
	Hi, there friends!  Sam Hornagainiam here, let’s talk confusing!  Standing against a large woodsy tree we got a 7-foot plus tall pinkish creature whose only vocabulary consists of one word “gronk.”  Then we gots ourselves a “slug-like” creature who has a personality conflict—bottom half a large grotesque slug; top half a man!
	“Do as you’re told, sweet human,” said the slug-man, “and my friend here wont rip your arms off!”
	Misty pissed her pants.  She would have shit them but she done did that at home hours ago.  The slug-man moved in where the light of the full moon revealed he was not a pretty man—far from it.  He looked like—like—a mad scientist’s experiment gone terribly-terribly wrong.  A cross between slug and human.  It looked as if though the “slug” part was trying to consume the human part.
	“W-what do you want?”
	“Take off your clothes.”
	Oh shit.
	Misty remained as she was—petrified.
	“Take off your clothes—mleep!—and all will be alright—gleep!”
	The “creature” had an accent—a very strange accent.  Almost a hiccup.
	The creature shook its human/slug-like head and seemed angry.  And there was a “third-eye” in the middle of the forehead!  The creature’s whole face seemed like a gooey mesh, liquid-like.  And green.  Green and yellow.  The eyes, back to the eyes, all three were yellow!
	No ears.
	The creature moved, mumbled something Misty couldn’t make out.
	Misty couldn’t move—but felt her bowels moving, though.
	“Take—fleep!—your clothes—dleep!—off!”
	Misty was frozen.
	The creature’s eyes glowered at the young petrified girl.
	“Do as I say!”
	Misty flinched, da gronk gronked.
	“Gronk!”
	“Shut up, I said, I—zleep!—wasn’t talking to you!”
	“Gronk!”
	The slug-like creature hit da gronk with a long sinewy arm/hand that had suddenly “appeared” from the creature’s body.
	da gronk made a mournful sound.
	“Don’t hurt him!” Misty said.
	“He’s of no concern—mleep!—of yours!  Gleep!” and he struck Misty with another suddenly appearing hand.
	“GRONK!” said the pinkish creature and he pushed the alien slug.
	To the da gronk it was a gentle shove.
	To the alien slug it was much more and he went sliding.
	“I—bleep!—will not—mleep!—not stand (slide) for this—zleep!” and he charged the da gronk.  While the two mismatched creatures tussled, Misty peddled backwards into the woods.
	“It’s a dream—it’s a fucking fucked up fucking dream!” she told herself.
	The clouds looming above began to reconverge.  That wasn’t good.  In a fright, Misty ran; she stumbled, fell, skidded, and then fell into the raging creek.  Definitely not good.
	Then, just before going over a twenty-foot drop to even more bone chilling water something grabbed her hauling her out of the plight.
	da gronk!
	And almost as soon as she was against the pink furry creature—she was warm.  Warm and dry.  She was muddy, bruised, battered, bashed, skint, skinned, but she was no longer soaking wet or cold!  Looking up to her rescuer she offered a timid smile.  From her backpack she offered up an apple and a banana.
	“You saved me.” she said confused.
	“Gronk!” said the da gronk.
	“Your breath stinks.” Misty stated.  But she was thankful of the rescue.

*

My parents are soooo not funny
	Had their lovemaking ever been so—dramatic?  Meaningful?  Intense?
	She wasn’t sure.  It was good—no doubt there.  But was it because of her or the fact that she had sunk to a new low (licking hubby’s spunk off her five year old unconscious daughter’s pussy?)  He did stare into her eyes longingly, though; or lovingly.  Or was he thinking of doing naughty with her daughter?  What about HIS daughter?  She was older at least.
	Her thoughts were tumbled and then dismissed as hungrily Cray engulfed her wrapping his arms about her.  She, then, wrapped her legs about him and they engaged in another intense bout of fucking.  After which they lay smoldering.  Looking into his eyes—
	“You’re thinking of Misty, aren’t you?”
	Typical reaction, “W-what?  NO, no-no-no.” which meant Yes, oh yes, yes, yes, yes!” he was embarrassed.  Sage shook her head, “You disgust me!”  Cray smiled, “Prove it!”
	They locked lips and powerful re-engaged sexually.
	Down the hall and Misty slipped into her bedroom window.
	“Thank you.” She said to her big pink hairy friend.
	“GRONK!” replied da gronk.
	Misty smiled.  She was no longer wet, but she was a little stinky but surprisingly no longer seriously banged up.  Her clothes were soiled; she stuffed them into her book pack to sneak into the washer later.  Making way to the bathroom and she heard her parents going at it.
	“Jesus,” she complained to herself, “every night with this.” Then, “What are they, rabbits?”
	Sinking into her bed she tried to relax.
	Should she tell her parents about da gronk?
	What about that slug creature?  He wanted her to take her clothes off!
	She figured they wouldn’t believe her.
	What WOULD be believed was her escaping the house in the middle of the night.  She’d get in trouble for sure for that.  Best keep her nighttime experience to herself.  Looking into the woods and Misty would never look at them quite the same again.
	Gronk!

*

WTF!?  OMG!  Get a room!
	Next morning—
	Talk about sore!  Misty could barely move.  ‘Note to self; next time running away—do it during the day.’  ‘nuff said.
	Out of her room she made way to the kitchen—whereupon she found her parents, naked, “doing it” on the breakfast table.
	“Oh—my—God!”
	The naked lovers jumped off the table—a long ropey strand of sperm there was from her dad’s dong to her new mother’s pussy.  As much as Misty was shocked, stunned, horrified even, she couldn’t take her eyes off the fact.
	“Sweetheart,” said Sage, “uh, we’re doing—what comes natural.”
	“Spur of the moment, thing, Sport.” cheered her father.  He stepped to one side of the round table to shield his blatant nakedness.  Sage merely sat up on the table.
	Misty cocked her head, “W-why is there a camera here?”
	A camera was set up on a tripod in the corner of the kitchen.
	“Well, dear, I-I can explain.”
	‘Cant wait to hear this.’
	“Uh, you see, uhm,” Sage tried but was failing, “your father and I—”
	“We’re making a porno, hon.”
	Misty gave her naked dweeb parents a look—you know the one.
	‘what the hell’s a porno?’
	“Uh, well, it’s like this, hon,” and Cray stumbled to explain, “but, you see, we’re trying to make some money, extra money.”
	‘go on.’
	“Well, it’s very simple,” Sage began, “there are these miners, perverts, who live very far away—”
	“And they’re miners, they live underground.” interrupted a still naked Cray.
	“And they’re perverts—whoooo, like pornos—of people like us—doing it.”
	“And they pay!” blurted in Cray suddenly.
	“Pay?” Misty asked.  “How much?” and still standing in the kitchen with her naked parents.
	“Yes, yes, Sprocket, a lot.”
	“Well, dear,” Sage said crossing her legs and beginning to feel a little embarrassed, “enough to pay some bills, a new car for your dad, a ring for me—”
	“That ring at Marshallstiens?”
	“Yes, that one.”
	“Oh wow.”
	Pause for dramatic effect.
	“And what’s more, Sweetie,” said Cray clearing his throat and becoming equally embarrassed, “uh, these miners, way-way up in the north, they will pay very well for—uh—uh—”
	“To see someone like you.” Sage said quickly not clarifying but saying.
	“Me?” squeaked a sore Misty.
	“Naked, honey, they want to see you naked.”
	Misty’s mouth fell open.  ‘everyone in this fucking world wants to see me naked!’  not everyone, hon, just those perverted miners, your previous boyfriends, Mr. Han your former homeroom teacher, and that alien slug-like creature.
	“Naked?”
	“Yes, honey,” said her father, “uh, and they’ll pay you.”
	Misty’s mouth was still open, but she was thinking.  Glancing to the camera, then back to her parents.
	“Soooo, what do I have to do?”  get naked would be a start.
	“Aren’t you curious about how much?” Sage asked.
	“Oh, yeah, sure—how much?”
	“Well, uh, enough for a new bike, computer—you’re own.”
	Misty nodded, “Soooo, w-what do I have to do?”
	Cray and Sage looked to one another—
	“Well, first off,” said her father, “you have to get naked.”
	‘My parents are soooo not funny.’

*

Family fun
	She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen her daddy naked; glimpses really.  In the same thought—when had he seen her?  Most times it was in her panties he saw her—no biggie there.  He was her daddy and deemed acceptable.  Naked?  When she was—six?  Maybe seven.
	Her mind was clouded to the most high; her experience in the woods, that pink creature, that slug creature.  Maybe it WAS a dream.  Maybe.  Not likely but maybe.  She shed her clothes and was still marveled that all her bruises, bumps, skints, scrapes, were all gone—healed!  That further confounded her.  There was no proof of her nighttime trek.
	Her naked daddy and naked step-mother came in bringing the camera.
	“We were thinking maybe showing you some of the stuff the miners like.”
	Misty nodded her head and sat on the foot of her bed.
	She wasn’t prepared for what was displayed on the video camera screen.
	Shock value.
	Shaking her head and the young girl had serious qualms about what was proposed to her.  She was almost sickened.  On the small screen were her parents engaged in doggie-style, around-the-world, anal, spanking, peeing, mutual masturbating, 69ing, and out and out sex with the camera zoomed right in on her daddy’s cock sliding into Sage’s pussy.
	“Sweetie,” Sage said in a “motherly” voice, “I know this must be quite a shock for you—”
	Misty stared at her giving her that “No shit” look.
	“I-I don’t know about this.” she said shaking her head.  Her stomach was turning and she felt a little more than faint.
	“Well, sweetie,” said Sage, “you don’t have to.”
	“Right,” Cray came in, “uh, if it’s not for you then it’s ok.”
	Misty blinked her eyes; they weren’t forcing her—it was her decision.
	“Your father and I will continue.”
	“Right, we might be able to make enough for something for you.”
	Breathing hard she remembered—computer, bike—
	“A horse?” she blurted out.
	“A horse?”
	“I-I’d like a horse.”
	Cray cocked his head; “But you said you hated living in the country.”
	“And a horse is as country as you can get!” added Sage, ‘without chewing on a straw and going hee-haw all the time.’
	Misty shrugged.  She didn’t know why she said “horse” but she did.
	So, laying down on her bed, legs spread, Sage videoed young pre-teen Misty masturbating.  The girl merely fingered herself just so, legs spread wide and the super expensive home video camera capturing every finger.
	Then,
	“Honey, would you let your daddy do something?” ‘to you?’
	Misty sat up, crossed her legs nervously, shrugged saying, “What?”
	Sage licked her lips thinking—and nothing on the video Misty had just seen would be too much.  Would it?
	Cray said nothing but leaned haphazardly against the dresser partially shielding his naked man parts—of which his cock was raging hard.
	“Well, for starters, uh, would you let your daddy—finger you?”
	Misty’s eyes bulged, mouth hung open, breathing increased, and she began to sweat.  Shrugging, though, “I guess.”
	She guessed!
	Cray was surprised—so was Sage.
	Finger-finger-finger!
	Followed by lick-lick-lick!
	Followed by—well, you know…
	Getting fingered by her own father was weird.
	Getting licked out by her own father was creepy.
	More was to follow.

	“I’m gonna pee!” she announced.
	Not exactly.
	After much licking, fingering, more licking, Cray’s tongue action to his young daughter had gotten her to the state of high intense excitement.  She shivered all over, shuddered, trembled, and her young poon was “wet” as could be.  Her father was delighted—and hard.  Sage masterfully masturbated his cock and gently coaxed his daughter into doing same—after she had experienced her first orgasm.
	The young girl was mesmerized by the act of cumming.  She was easily manipulated—all without an EMAD!  Handling her daddy’s cock was new but her mind was still grasping the experience of cumming.
	And speaking of cumming…
	A few strokes of his daughter’s handiwork and sperm was jutting out of his piss slit in record gobs.  The naked slender girl with long brown hair was totally awed by the event.  Even more so when her step-mother leaned in and began sucking it.
	“This is what the miners want.” whispered Cray.
	“They’ll pay us for it?” Misty quizzed.
	“Yep!”
	Gulping, still reeling from the tongue lashing, Misty was hesitant about sucking her daddy’s dong.
	“Sweetie,” said Sage, “you don’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”
	“Right,” her father said, “you don’t want a computer or HORSE, or anything we discussed, then this is as far as it goes.”
	The computer, designer jeans, a horse, a trip to Florida, Hawaii, all swam rampantly in her mind.  Blinking her eyes and trying to stem the upsetting tide in her stomach she leaned down.
	Her hair covered her face shielding the initial act.  Casually and Sage brushed the girl’s hair back and there for everyone (the miners) to see was twelve year old naked Misty Hurricane sucking off her daddy’s dick.
	Cray was in fits.  Long had he wanted—long had he desired to lick out his daughter’s cunt.  He was a perv.  His desires he kept curtailed but always there was the desire.  Tasting his child’s cunt had done wonders for him.  And licking out Sage’s daughter, Cinnamon?  He wanted to do that again, too!
	Misty managed a couple of good Ups and Downs before making a face.
	“You’ll get used to it.” Sage offered.
	Misty sat up smacking her lips still making the face.
	“It’s gross.” she said.
	“There’s one more thing the miners would like to see,” Cray told her, “and you’ll think it’s gross, too.”
	“What?”
	“Up the ass.”

	He had wiped her ass as a child; an infant, and toddler.  He had helped potty train her, pulled her panties up and down, dressed her, bathed her up until she was about six years old.  But she was twelve now, not six.  Looking his child’s body over was beyond imagination.  Always had he “checked” her—inappropriately.  Always did he sneak a feel while hugging her.  Always while screwing her mother, a girlfriend, his former wife’s sister, Sage, he thought of screwing her (Misty.)
	Defiling her vagina was not essentially out of the question but it was too soon to breech that delight right off.  “Up the ass” was deemed more suitable.  A little lubing with some cock grease in a packet (you know the one) and Cray was on his way—up his daughter’s chocolate highway.
	It was tough going, the girl’s hole was very virginal and he didn’t want to hurt her.  He managed the “head” of his cock; and once in (and a bit o’ shaft) the pumping began.  Misty grunted, grabbed her ass and exhibited signs of some distress.
	Cray pulled out, applied more lube to his schlong, then reinserted cooing to his daughter all the while.  Sage hefted the girl’s leg up so as the camera could zero in on the incestuous penetration.
	‘Just keep thinking horse,’ Misty said to herself, ‘bike, computer, Hawaii.’
	“Just keep thinking horse,” Cray cooed to her, “a bike, computer, Disney.”
	Then the splooge came.  One big push and the ejaculation exploded in near dramatic fashion.  Gobs of cum oozed out of the girl’s bum hole; and for extreme shock value; Misty was positioned onto her stomach, ass up a bit, cheeks spread, and while Cray operated the camera zoom feature, Sage licked Misty’s cummy hole.
	After a shower—of which father and daughter showered together; sucking.
	During the showering, Sage videoed the two together.  Misty was easing up but still somewhat apprehensive—mostly on how far would their relationship go.  It went pretty far.  During the shower the girl masturbated her father and was in turn masturbated by him.  As she leaned her backside against him the naughty man he “reached around” and firstly fondled her burgeoning breasts.  Then he snaked his hands down to finger her pussy.
	After the shower and they were drying off—Cray waggled his cock (which was extremely hard.)  Sage took it, sucked it, then offered it to Misty.  Misty was unsure but asked for a pony.
	“Ok.” said her father.  ‘anything you want, sweetheart, so long as you suck my dick.’ He smiled and the girl was schooled on the proper way of handling a man’s manhood—and then sucking it.
	“Once you’ve got a guy’s cock in your hands,” said Sage winking and grinning, “you can get anything!”  diamond ring, trip to Rio, Paris, Bahamas; new car, something cashmere.
	Sucking dick didn’t cum naturally to Misty—but once she got over the initially distasteful thought of the act she kind of got into it.  And, of course, as she sucked she was filmed.  And in minutes there was spurting sperm into her mouth.  That part she didn’t care for and made her retch, gag, and nearly puke.  Thankfully she didn’t—but she almost!
	Spanking came next.  Not hard, but enough to turn the girl’s normally white cheeks brilliant red.  As she was struck she just kept telling herself, “pony, computer, jeans, credit card…”
	Then, after the spanking,
	“Honey, would you consider letting your father—”
	Misty’s eyes bulged—she knew what was being proposed.
	“He’s been in your butt, in your mouth.  There’s only one place he hasn’t.”

	Misty gulped.  Although it was essentially incestuous just to be naked with him, and him with her, to shower together, to mutually finger one another—taking it between the legs was a biggie.  Very much a biggie.
	‘definitely my own credit card.’ And the latest tech gadgets.  Concert tickets—and to go to a concert without the parents tagging along.  Her own cell phone.  Be allowed to wear lipstick, make-up.  Gift card to A&F.  The list went on and on.
	And once more, on her bed, naked, with her naked parents present, Misty spread her legs and was ogled.  It felt weird—damn weird.  But in her mind she kept going over all the things she was going to get for her submission.  Her daddy applied his tongue to her and licked heartily.  It made her tingle and shiver.
	Then, he mounted her.
	At first she was afraid—she was petrified.  Her daddy’s dong that had been in her butt then in her mouth lay against her vagina.  Her mind blanked.  Slowly and did her father ride her pussy cooing to her to relax and that he was going to be as gentle as he could be.
	Famous last words…
	After much grinding-grinding-grinding—penetration.
	Cray humped his daughter’s pussy—humped his daughter’s pussy—HUMPED his daughter’s pussy then gently eased into her.  The girl’s eyes fluttered, her nipples hardened, and the serious act of sexual conquest was at hand.  Her hymen was intact.  Was.  A quickening thrust and the hymen was no more!  There was a bit of blood to coat his cock, her pussy, and his balls.  Misty let out a moan-gasp and she clenched herself all over.
	“Son-of-a-bitch!” she gasped aloud.
	Cray chuckled to himself and continued to ease in his 6 and a half incher.
	“Just relax, baby,” he continued to coo, “you’re doing fine.”
	Misty nodded, closed her eyes, and found herself shimmering.
	Sucking his dick had been one thing, taking it up the ass—wow.  Being licked out?  Wow factor times infinity.  But in her most holy of holy?  She was only in the beginning stages of fingering herself.  Now she was letting him lick her out—then fuck her?  In the modern world, sex and various components thereof were wildly known to pre-teens.  Even some eight to ten year olds knew what sexual intercourse was—thanks TV programming!
	But actually “doing it” was something else.  Participating in sex with her DAD was a mind blower.  And then on top of that—being filmed so some creepy miners somewhere could play with themselves while they watched her get laid!
	It was almost too much to bare.
	Then something happened.
	Something marvelous.
	With the taste of her daddy’s dick still in her mouth and mind, a new sensation flooded her senses (and mind).  The presence of her daddy’s dong in her most holy of holies was something—really something.  It was way different than taking his dong up her butt.  In her pussy and there were created new sensations for her to ponder.  More than mind blowing.  A tingling sensation enveloped her young body as a whole causing her to react almost with a hysterical outburst.
	Her entire mind was abuzz with sexual frolic.
	Cray, enthused by his daughter’s wild antics, began pumping harder.  Moving about just so and then lifting his child’s legs back a bit and outward, the fullness of his illicit act of father/daughter bonding was captured by the video camera.  Those miners in Canada, Peru, and elsewhere would never be the same.
	Nor would Misty.
	Nor would Cray.

And then a little more…
	Her own credit card—there was a “limit” but it was her own card!
	And the bill?  Daddy would pay the bill.
	Her own pony!  Gronk—she named it.
	“Curious name?” Sage said.
	“It came to me in a dream.” Misty told her.
	Whatever.
	A brand new latest model computer—a laptop.
	Designer jeans, shirts, hat, bracelet.
	Concert tickets to her popular boy bands—and no parents allowed!
	A trip to Disney World for a week was in the works.
	She made out—all for just sucking her daddy’s dick, spreading her cheeks, and then spreading her legs.  Daily showers with her daddy, some spanking, lots of fingering, lots of mutual masturbating.  Cocksucking was beginning to go alright; Sage continued to school her on the technique of rolling her tongue around the crown, squeezing the dick at the base, fondling the balls, and diddling the tongue into the piss slit.  Followed by sliding the mouth up and down the shaft.
	Taking a shower with her dad—still a little creepy.
	He peed on her, too.  Very creepy.  But in the shower the water rinsed it right off.  Still creepy.  And she peed in the shower standing up!  Not the first time she had ever peed standing up (in the shower) but it WAS the first time being filmed while doing so.
	Taking it the ass.  Hmmm  She didn’t know quite what to think about that and asked Sage, “Why do guys want to do a girl there?”
	“Well, honey, guys like doing a girl there because—it’s a tight hole, sometimes tighter than the vagina.”  Sometimes.
	“A guy likes to burrow his dong there because of some male empowerment thing.  For many it’s the visual aspect of bumming inasmuch as doing something taboo.”
	“Also, they’re weird that way.”
	We’ll go with that.
	Spreading her legs and letting her dear daddy lick her pussy?  Totally like totally weird.  It was a sensation like no other.  He had a talented tongue and made her shiver to almost climaxing.  He massaged her pussy, fingered her asshole, and nipped her budding clit.  It drove her crazy and that was all that mattered.
	Hey pussy.  For years by her mother and father she had been told how special her vagina was and that no one—no one was to ever “touch” her there.  Now not only was she being “touched” and licked but fucked!  Her daddy’s dick was average and although she was at first very frightened—it got better.
	Way better.
	Her own credit card!
	Jeans!
	A pony!
	A computer!
	Concert tickets!
	And she got to go into town pretty much when she wanted.  With both parents “working from home” there was a lot of leeway.  The fear of possibly getting pregnant warranted a quick trip to the city where she got fixed up with “pills” to take care of pregnancy problems.  She also touched basis with her friends.  One friend, Sara, was in her own designer jeans and also had her own credit card.
	Sara wasn’t going to spill right off and kept mum giving Misty a case of the wonders.  SHE had designer jeans, credit card, and free to go to the mall without parental supervision.  Hmmm  Misty wondered—was Sara doing the naughty with HER dad?  Unlikely; for one, Sara’s daddy worked (a lot) in a big office building and was seldom home.  
	Turns out, Sara was curious about Misty and HER credit card and jeans.
	And after so long a time the girls confided in one another and devolved their means.  And it turns out it wasn’t Sara’s daddy but Sara’s brother, Shane.  Shane was two years older than she and for the most part they got along but were also typical brother and sister—they fought.  One day,
	“I caught him playing with himself.”
	“Whoa,” said Misty, “what happened?”
	“I was gonna tell my Mom but he sort of threatened to beat my ass.”
	“Lame.”
	“Yep, he’d get in big trouble if he did that.”
	“So what happened?”
	Sara was a little fuzzy on the exact details, but it came about that they got in an argument that SHE was daddy’s little princess and got away with everything.  That was partly true.
	“YOU get everything you want!” stated factly the boy.
	“Not always.” complained back Sara.  “I have to work for it.” chores, good grades, no sass, crap like that.
	“You still get over.” returned Shane.
	From there it came down to Sara actually wanting some concert tickets, some special jeans, music CDs, etc.  She had used her charm on her parents and had gotten nowhere—she had used up a bunch of her charm and report cards were months away.
	Meanwhile, Shane continued to jerk off.
	And although Sara was merely twelve she was wise—street wise.  Like Misty, she knew the Ins and Outs of sex—no pun intended (or maybe it is!)  She had a basic understanding of guys’ need to play with themselves.  She also learned (from the streets of the city) what a “facial” was.
	And it had nothing to do with prettying up a person’s face.
	And it had a lot to do with a guy jerking off onto a person’s face.
	Sara knew that that particular act was kinda gross—a lot gross.  But she also knew that Shane was getting paid more than she was, was earning cash for doing some chores for other people, and wasn’t buying anything but saving for a guitar.
	The knowledge of what exactly cum was—she didn’t know exactly.
	Sperm, ejaculate, spunk, cum—the emission of testicles, semen, baby making fluid—all were elusive to her but she had heard the words and terminology.  Sex acts she knew, but thought only adults having sex would result in a baby nine months later.
	And other than fighting with one another, seeing who could get the other in trouble the most, typical brother/sister stuff, and Shane “playing with himself”, Sara began finding pleasure with herself, too.  In doing so, brother Shane took interest.  As usual, the boy was normal and had curiosity about his sister thru all the stages of her life.  When they were younger than often bathed together.  Perfectly normal.  As they got older he stole glances of her while she changed clothes, bathed, sat on the toilet, etc.
	Some of those times and Sara was aware.
	So, coupled with that knowing—that her brother wanted to see her naked and/or playing with HERSELF, and he was loaded with cash, Sara offered up a mind blowing proposal.
	“I’ll let you do something to me,” she said one day, “but it’ll cost you.”
	“Do what?”
	“See me naked.”
	Mind blower.
	Sara had lovely long middle of the back straight blond hair; heavy bangs.  Beautiful blue eyes, a sweet smile, perfect teeth, creamy white skin, and a good personality overall.  Shane was a nice looking fellow; sandy brown hair, decent looks, good all-around natured boy who was sports active and ok scholastically.
	Shane needed only a few seconds—
	“Ok.” Then, “How much?”
	“Totally naked?  Twenty bucks.”
	“Holy shit!” he blurted.  Shaking his head the deal was going south.
	“Ten bucks in my panties.”
	Hmmm
	“And you can PLAY with yourself, too.”
	Deal.

da bomb
	Seeing his twelve year old sister naked was—da bomb.  He had a girlfriend but she was just “a friend” and not likely to show herself—let alone let him jack off while he drooled.  Sara wasn’t “hot” but she was naked and her “parts” were forming nicely.  Her breasts were forming into lovely young bouncy mounds and her pussy—and her pussy was smooth, untouched (by dick) and with a beginning crop of pubes.
	Seeing his sister just in her panties had been cool, but; of course, he wanted more.  He was a guy and though a girl clad in her panties was nice and all—it wasn’t enough.  He forked over the extra ten and Sara slid her panties down and off.
	“Do you know what a facial is?” she asked.
	Actually, no, he had no clue.
	“When you find out—lemme know and I’ll let you do it to me.”
	Shane was out of his mind.
	He was hooked, seeing her naked and allowed to please himself while doing so—da bomb.  She WAS a pretty girl and she was a pretty girl—and she was a pretty girl who was naked.  Shane’s mind clouded and blast off was imminent.
	“I’m gonna cum!” he announced.
	Sara, laying width wise on her bed set up to watch.  She had never seen a guy cum before.  It was an eye opener—and almost put her eye out!  A squirt of jiz exploded from his piss slit shooting out with magnificent force spanning the mere couple of feet onto the naked girl.
	“Oh gross!” she exclaimed.
	Wait until you get a “facial!”
	After the initial grossness of her brother’s doing faded—and were wiped off, the boy offered up another ten spot for a more astute looksee at his sister.  Specifically her cunny.  Specifically in various positions; bent over, laying down, legs up, legs spread, and on all fours.
	Later that week and,
	“I know what a facial is!” he announced to his sibling.
	“And I know what mutual masturbation is!” she returned learning something knew at school other than the capitols of the states.  Both their parents worked so the two often had lots of free time after school.  Sara was doing homework at the kitchen table; Shane came in “starving” as usual but kept the info about the details of a “facial” to himself.
	He had homework, too, but was too horny to concentrate on algebra.
	Showing his sister a twenty dollar bill they quickly made way to her bedroom; quickly.
	“So what is it?” she said already knowing.
	“You said you would let me do it to you when I found out.” He said explaining her words and meaning, connotation, and hope that she wouldn’t renege.
	“I know.”
	“Yeah, I know, too,” and remember the other day when she was grossed out by his spunk hitting her he had qualms, “it’s when a guy jerks off onto your face.”
	Sara knew.  She DID have qualms and DID remember the other day when his spew splashed on her.
	“I got twenty bucks.” he said almost desperately.
	‘and I got that tee-shirt from A&F!’ and with a sigh slipped off her clothes.
	By the time she slid her purple panties down her brother was already nude and with a raging hard-on.  Sara plucked the twenty from his hand and while she tucked the bill in her purse—the boy ogled her naked ass.
	‘Oh shit!’ she had a nice ass.
	And willing to let him jack off onto her face?  Wow!  What a sister!
	On her knees before her brother the young girl prepared herself—as any young girl whose brother was about to whack off onto her face.  Steadily and Shane began masturbating.  His blue eyes were locked onto his naughty naked willing sister.  She was amazing!  So far that week she had collected $60 bucks from him!  He to work his ass off to get the money; cleaning out a garage for a neighbor, an errand here, an errand there, a lot of sweat and getting home late then having to hear it from his Mother and then staying up late to do his homework.
	But it was worth it.

	“You wanna help?” he blurted out.
	Sara cocked her head, shrugged, “Ok, I guess so.”
	Placing her fingers about her brother’s very hard cock she once more blew her brother’s mind (figuratively).  She fingered herself, too.  And it didn’t take long before juts of spunk was blasting out of his piss slit—right onto Sara’s sweet face.
	“Oooooh, gross!” she said with closed eyes.  “It’s yucky!”
	Shane blasted three good cum offs soiling his sister’s face, specifically her nose, right cheek, and chin.  The boy was exhausted and stood on crumbling legs.  In his mind—‘and that’s just jerking off!’ he understood that FUCKING was ten times better!  Ten times!
	Sara got up and went to the bathroom to wash off.
	When she came back, Shane had her panties wrapped about his cock.
	“Gross.” she told him.  then,
	“You can have them—for five dollars.”
	Shane looked disgusted but fished out five more dollars then scurried off to his room—shutting/locking the door.  Later that night and the boy had his sister’s panties laid out on his bed and he was fucking them!  Rubbing his ass, spanking himself, and grinding-grinding-grinding his cock against the purple undies seriously stimulating himself conjuring up images of Becky Lowlips, Francine Finklehammer, Nora Downstep, and even his sister, Sara!  Even!
	Later that week,
	“Hey, dweeb!” he said bounding in slinging his bookbag and charging up to his sister in the kitchen, “You want to score those concert tickets?” a certain concert was coming and dweeb sibling Sara was just short of having enough (for her and a friend.)
	“Yeah.” she said knowing that her brother was dangling a line.
	“Well,” Shane drawled leaning on the bar counter being smug, “I just scored fifty bucks!  From Old Man Twitick!”
	“Holy shit!” Sara blurted, “Who’d you have to kill?”  Old Man Twitick wasn’t known for letting go money—not easily.
	“Don’t ask and you won’t know so much!” he sneered.
	“Soooo, what do you want?”
	“Not “WANT” but DO!” he was grinning.  He was seriously up to something.
	“Ok, asshole, WHAT do you want to DO?” to me?
	“It’s called cuntinlinkus.”
	“What the fuck is that?”
	Shane had it wrong—the pronunciation.  But he had the concept,
	“Pussy eating!”
	Sara gave her brother a “what” look followed by “are you crazy?”
	“All it is is like a girl giving a guy a blowjob, except the guy goes down on the girl and licks her pussy!”
	She still gave him the “are you crazy” look—until he plopped down a twenty and two fives and a ten spot.
	Gulping, unsure, she took the money.  Deal.
	Cunnilingus 101
	He wasn’t an expert but had a good idea of how “eating out a girl’s pussy” went.  Pretty sure.  Word of mouth at school, listening in on sexually laced conversations, and his own vivid imagination clued him in on the fine advanced sex act.  Plus the internet.
	After he and his sister were nude and the girl plunked herself down onto her bed, legs open, ultra horny Shane put his mouth to the girl’s quim.  Just the slight hint of pee.  He disregarded the offense and went to flicking his tongue all over the sibling cunt like it was an ice cream.
	“Eat a girl’s pussy out,” quipped a guy he knew “and the bitch will be putty in your hand!”
	Shane licked and natural instinct commanded him to nip the pussy, drive his tongue into the slit’s entrance, and general do his best to excite the girl whereas she would be “putty”.
	His tongue wore out before the girl was “putty.”

	The doll, the accessories, the books, all were out of her usual price range.
	Luckily and there was a brother who had means.
	“Soooo, for fifty, then?”
	Sara nodded.  She wasn’t totally 100% on board, but fifty bucks would go a long way in securing the $200 doll.
	In her room, naked, Sara had misgivings about the new brotherly proposal.
	Up the ass?  How was that going to be?
	She would soon find out.
	And firstly she was grossed out by his spitting on her hole!
	“It’ll make going in easier.” he said.
	Whatever.
	The boy made entry—well, attempted to.  Although his cock was hard—damn hard—it bent and the head wouldn’t go in.  Fingering and he himself was a little grossed out—she poops from there!  Sooo, thinking,
	“I need something to do this better.”
	“Butter?” suggested a queasy Sara.
	Butter it is.
	Butter it wasn’t—they were out.
	“Mom uses that greasy stuff on her heels.” Sara suggested.
	Petroleum grease it is.
	That worked a lot better.  Still, though, it was quite an event and a mind blower for both siblings.  Penetration at full strength was finally made—but not without a lot of grunting.  Sara was on her hands and knees, face down and ass up.  It was quite a view and Shane did view it.  The intensity of Sara’s clenching asshole made Shane experience sexual orgasm beyond his imagination.
	Then watching his cum oozing out of her shit hole totally blew him away.
	What would fucking her pussy be like?

	“How much to let me do you?”
	Sara’s mind clicked off in a dizzying array of blurred images.  Things she wanted but were just out of reach; birthday gifts for her friends, her mom.  She was spending money as quickly as she was getting it.  Sounds familiar.
	Shaking her pretty head, she shrugged saying “I don’t know.”
	“A hundred?” he sounded desperate.  And was!
	“I’m not sure.” And she wasn’t.
	Thinking of a different plan, “Ok, I know you want that stuff at the mall, and to go with Caroline to Seattle, and isn’t Bridgett’s birthday coming up?”
	The wheels in Sara mind were turning-turning-turning.
	“Two hundred bucks—final offer.”  $200 to screw your sister?  Cool.
	“Is it going to hurt?” she asked.  Sara had heard that the “first time” was sometimes painful.  Well, not for the guy…

	It didn’t hurt but it was uncomfortable.
	And the blood was uncool.
	It took a little while calming Sara down that it was perfectly normal.
	It also took an extra fifty!  Goddamn!  More than the ‘hos on Main!
	So, to sum up; jerked off on her face—check.  Licked out her pussy—check.  Fucked her up the butt—check.  Fucked her pussy—check.  Blowjob—oops.  Forgot one.  There was no way, though, that Sara was going to take his dick into her mouth.
	Fifty dollars, though, said yes.
	And it wasn’t as bad as she thought.  It little yucky but it wasn’t “dirty.”
	And luckily—he didn’t cum off in her mouth, either!
	With no schooling, Sara did fairly well; she eyed the one-eyed monster before her, masturbated it, kissed it, then diddled her tongue into the opening.  Going down was another matter.  She did roll her tongue around the super sensitive crown.  That was almost good enough.  Almost.  
	But Shane was schooled, or at least “in the know.”  He knew well enough what a blowjob was and was missing out.  Sara slowly took her brother’s bone not sure what signified as “blow” but it was a job.  There was a gag reflex to deal with along with retching.  No vomiting—but it was close!

	“FACIAL SPECIAL $20!” so the painted sign on the window of a beauty shop downtown.  It gave both Sara and Shane ideas.  Sara had been spending money left and right and was planning on a big trip to Seattle with her friend.  Gobs of money had been spent on birthday presents for friends and she had saved none for herself.  Going to Seattle was going to be expensive.  She needed more money.
	Shane was about tapped out, he had worked for everyone and hardly had anything to show for it—‘ceptin’ that sex with his sister.  But he was basically broke.  Fooling around with his sister was expensive!  But he had a plan.
	Though Shane was low on funds, his pals weren’t.
	Sara had to think about it.  She knew his dweeb pals; Eric, Kelly, and Frank specifically.  After chewing on the inside of her lip and mouth, she shrugged—
	“Ok.”
	Shane couldn’t believe it.
	“Uh, one more thing—”
	“Yeah?” she said a little suspicious and burgeoning annoyed.
	“One at a time or can we all do you at once?”

	$20 bucks a head—she’d make more if she charge the boys for BOTH their heads but the one between their legs would do.  That would be $80!  Shane and his dweeb horny friends came over midweek—Eric, Kelly, and Frank.  Eric was a red haired freak, tall and lanky and lots and lots of freaky red hair.  Kelly was a dark haired boy, kind of a bully, kind of an asshole.  Kind of.  And Frank?  A pot head.  ‘nuff said.
	The boys were eager.  They all knew Sara so there was no pleasantries—
	“let’s get naked and do it!” was their mentality.
	In her room the girl timidly shed her clothes.  Save for Eric and Shane, the others had no sisters.  Frank had girl cousins but they were young or older than he.  The boys had girlfriends but none were putting out or showing skin.  So Sara was it and although she was merely twelve she had their attention wholly and fully.  She let the boys have a good look at her nakedness; laying out on her bed she spread her legs and sent the boys into sexual pent up orbit.
	Rolling over she let the boys ogle her ass.
	On her knees she let the boys jerk off onto her sweet face.
	The boys stripped off their clothes and stood with raging boners.
	Shane came first blasting a strand of fresh hot icky white goo onto her face, above the right eye and then coating most the right cheek.  Fourteen year old Eric had a large “bush” of flaming red pubes and seriously dangling balls.  All the boys had seen one another naked in the gym—and truth be known, they also jacked off now and then together discussing girls and whatnot.
	Kelly masturbated the hardest and blasted a load square onto Sara’s face showering her nose.  Frank’s cock made a curious noise as his cum was expelled.  All the boys had done a fine job of creaming—er, giving Sara a facial.  Using a wash rag she wiped the spew off her face.  She was a little grossed out but tolerated the event—she had a cool eighty dollars!

But wait!  There’s more!
	“I’m a slut but I’m a RICH slut!”
	Her mom’s birthday was coming up; her favorite teacher’s birthday was within weeks; her parents’ wedding anniversary, and even her dweeb brother’s birthday.  Plus the trip the second trip to Seattle, a loan to a friend, some stuff for herself—all added up to more money than she had.
	Soooo,
	“Twenty bucks a hole,” she proposed, “one at a time or all of you at once.”
	Shane was floored.  What his goofy sister was offering was outlandish.
	But cool.
	$20 a hole; mouth, pussy, asshole; $60 per boy!
	The boys, Eric, Kelly, and Frank held off fooling with themselves three days.  Shane?  Not so much.  Just about everyday he got something from his sister; a handjob, blowjob, up her ass, and in her sex.  Something.  But he was always anxious for more.  Always.
	In her room on a Friday afternoon the young girl almost thirteen stripped off her clothes.  The boys assembled and did same.  Then the not-so-timid girl “handled” each of the boys.  Their cocks, specifically.  To each boy she went masturbating him, clutching his balls, then closely examining his cock before kissing it and then performing a most delicious suck!
	She was good.
	Real good.
	With no formal schooling on the subject the girl tantalized each boy driving him crazy.  Kelly blew his load in her mouth but the other boys managed to curtail their lust for her other holes.  By now, Sara was used to spunk in her mouth from her brother.  (it was still yucky, though.)
	“All three of them, plus your brother?” wailed Misty.
	“All three of them, plus my brother.” stated Sara.  But wait!  There’s more!

	Quite a scene in that bedroom; on her bed and boy after boy took his turn, wiping down her pussy after fucking it.  And with Eric she merely pulled her legs back and let him drill her shit hole.  Kelly boned her backdoor with her legs up along his shoulders.  Frank took her doggie-style—while she sucked off on Shane’s cock.
	The boys readily paid up.  The girl gave extra hand jobs, blowjobs, and even let Kelly spank her!  Shane was beside himself watching his sister fuck and suck, be fucked and be sucked.  She was amazing!
	That night when her father got home—and a few hours later,
	“Sara, I want to see you.”
	Usually that meant “Sara, you’re in trouble.”
	Usually it was a chewing out.
	Usually.
	Her grades were normally good; no problems there.  She was good in school; no police report; no tardiness, no back talking, chores were always done.  So what was wrong?
	“Close the door.”
	Shit, something was wrong.
	Sara closed the door behind her and held fast—petrification was setting in.  She was in some kind of trouble.  But what?  The parental bedroom was in a color scheme of blue; they lived in a townhouse downtown and Sara Jane was in “some kind of trouble.”
	Her daddy turned on the television pressing another button for the CD player.  The screen flickered and there was Sara—naked, in her room, with her brother—also naked.  Sara felt ill.  She was sucking her brother’s dick, fingering herself and then laying out on her bed so as her brother could have a go at her pussy—licking it out.
	That was followed by fucking.
	Out and out fucking.
	There was a nanny cam in her room.
	Daddy was a spy!
	There was no explaining.
	“Come here.”
	Ten thousand pound anchors were attached to her feet.  She couldn’t move.
	It was close to bedtime so she was in her knee length nightgown; a thin non-cotton thing she had paid $$ for.  Once at her father’s knees he took her laying her across them.  He then raised her nightgown and proceeded to spank her.
	“Hard?” Misty asked.
	“Hard enough.”
	She clenched and cried some; wriggled a lot.
	After the reign of blows her skin tight yellow designer panties were pulled down and a new wave of smacks to her already blistering ass came to be.  The girl twisted and cried out in her anguish—then was stood up and while she sniveled her daddy hauled out his cock.
	“He did what?”
	“Yep, he unzipped and hauled his cock out.”
	“Oh my God!  What did you do?”
	“I sucked it.  What else?” she said with a shrug.
	“You SUCKED your daddy’s dick!?”
	Sara nodded, “And after he gave me a twenty dollar bill!”
	Strangely, and perhaps luckily, the nanny cam didn’t catch the recent events.
	And more follow-up; after Misty went home.  Sara’s daddy had a proposal of his own for his young daughter.
	“You know my friend, Royce?”
	“The one from England?” who talks funny.
	Her daddy smiled, “Yes, that one.”
	“Ok, what?”
	“Well, he’s willing to offer some cash for what you did for me.”
	We’re talkin’ blowjob here.
	Sara was not aghast—just ghast.
	With a so-so enthusiasm she shrugged.  Then,
	“What else?” she surmised.
	Folding his arms and being both nervous and stalwart,
	“Well, he’s willing to pay even more for what you and your brother been doing.”
	Sara had some misgivings.  Fooling with her brother—and his dorky dweeb friends was one thing.  But a man?  Wowzers.
	“How much?”
	“Your call.”
	Hmmmm  those pricey boots she wanted—check.  Trip to Paris, all expenses paid—ALL expenses paid—check.  Take along a friend (Misty)—check.
	After laying out her price, Sara’s daddy nodded, “Ok.”  Deal.
	The very next day and Englishman Royce Warpedbone came to the house.
	Meanwhile, back in the country…

OMG!  WTF!?  What the goat-fuck!?
	Riding her pony, Gronk, was almost a daily thing.  New saddle, tack, boots for herself, hat, a hat for Gronk, and she was a happy girl.  She didn’t particularly cleaning up after him but other than that…

	Riding into the woods was ok, her parents fretted somewhat that it wasn’t safe to go alone.  So she was equipped with the latest gadgetry to protection; mace, air horn, whistle, electronic mind controlling detectors and preventors, and lastly, a dog.  Oppsidoodle was a black Labrador and just the thing for a girl.  Just the thing.
	Out in the country side where the Hurricane family lived the neighbors were kind of spread out.  A good walk it was to the next family.  Trees and meadows were everywhere along with thick areas of thick-thick vegetation.  Most days, too, the weather was decent—cool and “fixing to rain” at any moment.  Some days were warm, but not many.
	The smell of wild roses was pleasant, the odor of pig shit wasn’t.  There were a few farms in the countryside; some were pleasant—some weren’t.  Most days and the “odors” of those unpleasant farms were not noticeable.  Other days and it seemed as if though they were right next door if not in the backyard!
	Misty understood that it in time she would get used to the smells and pay them no mind.  In time.  Misty’s pony (not actually a “pony” but small horse) wasn’t bad to clean up after.  But Gronk was one horse, there were nearby farms that had umpteen horses; cows, sheep, goats, whatever.
	“Do you speak English?”
	“Yes.”
	“Name?”
	“Abdul al-Rapesalittle.”
	“Sex.”
	“Three to five times a week.”
	“No, no, male or female?”
	“Male, female, sometimes camel.”
	“Holy cow!”
	“Cow, sheep, donkey, whatever.”
	“Isn’t that hostile?”
	“Horse style, doggie style, whatever style.”
	“Oh, dear!”
	“No dear, run hole to high, run too fast.”

	The next country homestead from Misty’s home was the Klampnullty farm.  The other direction on the same side of the country road was the Scarcarion family.  Misty liked the deep woods but sometimes got a little creeped out and felt like something within was staring at her—prompting her to guide Gronk closer to the farms.
	First up along the woodsy trail by Bonedry Creek was a sty; a pigsty.
	There was a single occupant of the enclosure—Rome the Pig.
	Rome the Pig was a hog.
	A really big one.  Tusks, one eye, crappy burnt skin, and huge.
	He grunted a lot, shit a lot more.  He wasn’t particularly friendly and gave everyone who passed too close a long unfriendly look.  Misty felt pity for him.  He was alone.  His pen was “L” shaped with one end having his shelter—three sided with roof.  The pen (and shelter) was made of old board, tin, corrugated tin, and what have you.  Weeds and vegetation lined the outside of the enclosure; muck and mud lined the inside.
	When Misty came along she tossed apples to the ornery critter.  The first few times and he missed and the tasty treat fell to the mucky ground.  Rome didn’t seem to care and nobbled the fruit up anyways—mud, shit, and all.  After a time, though, Rome began “catching” the tossed treat in the air.
	Oranges came next, bananas, kiwi, pomegranates, but mostly apples.
	Just passed Rome’s abode and the vegetation on one side was thick-thick impassable thick.  A pond was in the middle, a huge boulder, some crisscrossed trees leaning against the boulder, five hundred yards of brush, and then the country road.  On the other side, left, trees.  Lots and lots of trees.  A creek that was not dry despite its name “Bonedry”, ran amok thru the trees—like Misty had the fateful night some nights back.
	Dismounting Gronk to relieve herself and there were voices.
	The need to pee was greater than her curiosity.
	Afterwards, though, she sneaked along the brushy vegetation coming up on two kids she had seen at the Farmer’s Market but didn’t know them personally.  She believed their names were John Robert, Elizabeth, and Bobby James.  Nice people, their father owned and operated a lumber mill, their mother had an extensive garden where she sold most the produce at the Market.
	While not working at the mill or in the family’s garden, the Whalesaton children were in the woods “fooling” around.  And twelve year old Elizabeth needed some sun!  Misty had come upon the group just as they were undressing.  John Robert was the oldest, he was fifteen.  He looked “country”; kind of lanky, sandy brown hair, brown overalls, glasses, and a quirky look about him.
	Brother Bobby James had a quirky look about him, too; a long narrow face, thick mop of reddish brown hair, a lanky frame in jeans and country shirt.  He was thirteen while his sister with flaming red hair was twelve.  The boys were nude before their sister was.  Once she slid her panties down and stepped out of them she stood fingering her pussy—then began to pee.  Standing up!
	Misty had never heard of such a thing.
	The boys giggled and fondled themselves.
	After Elizabeth had peed—

	The thin girl who looked almost frail went to her knees (away from her puddle) and began masturbating brother John.  Brother Bobby sized up his sister butt then began spanking it with his dick.  A tingling sensation began in Misty.  Elizabeth had very luxurious red hair—thick-thick and lots of it; it went down passed her shoulders and had to be some chore to wash and brush.
	Elizabeth fingered herself while she worked on John’s schlong; behind her and Bobby worked his country cock into her (but Misty wasn’t sure what “hole” he was in).  That info came later when the boy mustered up all he could muster and power fucked his sibling, pulling out revealing to all who were spying the fact that he had been cornholing his sister.  Streams of his country cum drizzled out of shit hole and the boy sat back giggling.
	Meanwhile, Elizabeth took to sucking John.

I don’t always have Tourette’s; but when I do, “fuck shit balls pussy licking ass face cunt!”

(Going) down on the farm
	Going down on the farm never had so much more meaning.
	The next farm was to a typical hillbilly clan, the Clampnulltys.  The Ma was a short dumpy woman, hair up in bun, sometimes looked haggard and worn out as she did most the chores in the house, sometimes outside, too.  She was friendly to Misty at the Farmer’s Market and even gave her some treats for her pony.
	The Pa was kind of tall, wore an old funky hat that had seen way better times; it had a couple of holes in it and burnt marks as well as teeth marks from when he threw it at a critter (with teeth) during a nighttime hunt.
	There were two children, Daisy May and Jedediah.  Jedediah was older at nearly eighteen years young.  Daisy May was ripe at sixteen.  Jedediah was not so good in the smarts department, but he was strong as an ox—and about as dumb.  He had visions and aspirations of going to Hollywood and being a big star.
	His sister had no aspirations other than being good with critters.  The quirky girl had a strange rapport with not only animals in the woods; opossums, woodchucks, beavers, squirrels, deer, and even bears but with farm animals, too.
	Case in point, on Misty’s spying arrival there was Daisy May lying on her stomach on a folded out chaise lounge in the open backyard with her pretty deep sea green eyes closed and her round teenage butt sticking up when a wet touch on her back made her jump up.
	At first she thought it was her pesky brother,
	“Jedediah, I’m gonna—” turning her head looking over her super curly blond hair she saw it wasn’t her brother but her pet goat, Frosty.

	Frosty was a farm goat about four feet high.   His tongue was hanging out; he bleated and had a peculiar look in his beautiful brown eyes.  Frosty backed away some, frightened by Daisy May’s being startled.  Coaxing it back she cooed,
	“Come on, Frosty, I didn’t mean to scare you, you scared me!”
	The goat guardedly trotted up to her outstretched hand and accepted her stroking of his dense gray and white fur.
	Frosty was panting heavily and seemed much more skittish than usual. 
	“What’s going on, fella?”  then, looking down Frosty’s body she saw the problem.  Frosty’s cock was stiff and hanging down.  Now Daisy May understood the glazed look in his eyes.
	“Aw, shoot, you’re in need of some nookie, aint ya?”
	As if the animal knew what she was yammering about the goat rubbed its head against her hand then sneakingly against her left boob.
	Daisy May took another gander at his cock again.  It was long, pink, slick, and hard-hard-hard.
	“Maybe I can help you out.” she said with a smile and a gleam in her own eyes.  Reaching out she petted his back, keeping him calm and somewhat distracted while her other hand gently encircled his slick stiff shaft.
	Slowly she stroked with a loving touch; slipping her fingers back and forth across the swollen head.  Frosty moved against her, rubbing his furry head against her head.  Every now and then there was a tremor throughout his body.  There was one with Daisy May, too!
	A special warmth was spreading in her crotch.  A tingling sensation that would not be denied.  Looking around but not overly caring should anyone in particular see her she slipped off her short cut-off jeans.  No panties!  Her pussy was wet as could be and she only made it wetter fingering herself.
	Frosty grunted and made some bleating sounds.
	Misty, hiding in the woods flicking off pesky crawly bugs now and then curiously wondered—wondered about what it would be like (be like to masturbate a goat.)
	What was she thinking!?
	Panic ensued.  How could she even think of such a thing!?  Masturbate a horse!?  Her horse?  Her horse!  OMG!  OMG!  OMG!  She actually thought of fingering Gronk!  OMG!
	Back to Daisy May—
	As her passion increased exponentially, she moved to position herself behind Frosty keeping up her stroking on his cock while she fingered herself.  Frosty bleated and began to prance.  Something imminent was about to occur.  Daisy May kept a steady work out on the goat’s schlong, giggling to herself and pressing her body against his.
	Moaning softly as she felt the stirrings of her pussy; she was trembling and her own occurrence was “on the verge.”  She shivered and felt Frosty’s schlong swelling even more so.  Then suddenly there was emission from the goat’s dick; a healthy expulsion of goat cum blasted quickly out the tip.  Frosty made jerking motions and it looked like—it looked like there was a smile on his goat face!
	“There, now,” cooed the farm girl, “aint that better?”
	But while the goat was now satisfied, Daisy May found her own juices streaming out her teenage twat sending tickling feelings all over her body.  Her nipples were the hardest!  Even her super curly hair was excited!  Back on the lounge chair she laid out, legs spread just a gettin after it!  Frosty bleated and their eyes met.  
	“Would you do something for me?” she asked her pet.
	And as if he understood, “Blaaaa!” and his goaty nose pushed her hand away.  Frosty began lapping his rough tongue against her trembling super sensitive pussy.  She didn’t think it was possible but her excited cunt began even more so.  Laying back on the folded out chaise she began to buck.  Frosty licked the juices like a pro!  But Daisy May couldn’t achieve the ultimate goal with just simple lapping from Frosty’s tongue action.  She needed something more.
	Sliding off the chaise she got on her hands and knees.
	‘No way!’ said Misty to herself.  Her breathing labored.  It was one thing to jack off a goat—way something more to do what she was doing.  Way more.  And although the deplorable act was a horrendous one and one on a level Misty couldn’t even conceive—she found herself with her hand down her pants friggin herself to beat all.
	On all fours, Daisy May raised her ass up presenting.
	Her soaking wet pussy was an offering to Frosty—and more!
	He got the idea (and truth be known—it probably wasn’t his first time).
	Frosty’s cock was once again long, hard, primed and ready.  He climbed up into “doggie-style” position and Misty wished upon wishes she could get closer to actually see the penetration.  She was some twenty-five feet away and could just see the goat mounting but not the absolute entry.
	Frosty began pumping leaving Misty in utter wonderment.  What would it be like?  She had seen dogs humping and seen their slick animal dick; how would that compare to a guy’s cock—like her daddy’s?
	Daisy May took as much of the elongated goat dick as she could; bucking back against his frantic rutting she continued to finger herself in a wild manner making extraordinary outbursts typical of a good fuck.
	“Oh, yes!  Fuck me!  Fuck me good, you hear?”  Her encouragement encouraged her pet and he pumped faster, harder.  In essence, “fucked her good!”

	Frosty finally exploded inside her and the blast of cum ignited Daisy May’s own bucking.  Frigging herself with one hand and making continued exclamations of sexual excitement got the attention of her brother, Jedediah.
	“Oooooh, weeee,” the tall gangling country boy said, “aint she sumptin’!?”
	“Gull darn it!” spoke up his Pa coming up behind to see what all the clamoring outside was about.
	“She at it again!” said the boy—who began earnestly gouging the heel of his hand to his crotch.
	“Yep, looky like she had ‘erself a good time.” The old man said shaking his head in a semi disgruntled manner.
	“You gonna say anything?” Jed asked sounding a little pissed off.
	“Nah, she ain’t a hurtin’ nobody, leastways I don’t think the goat minded!”
	The tall well-built boy shook his head sadly, but was curious none the same.
	“She oughten to get ‘erself a spankerin at least!” complained the boy.
	“Nah, she’d like it too much!” retorted his Pa.
	Before the old man stepped away, “Boy, you’d bes’ keep yer eyes on yer sister and lay off them animals,” he warned, “until leastways you learn which of ‘em is a boy an’ which of ‘em aint!”
	“Yes, sir, Pa.” the boy said.
	Misty was in disbelief.  After “Frosty” got his goat nuts off the country farm girl “whooshed!” and flopped back onto the chaise lounge.  “Son-of-a-sweet-sorry-bitch!” she exclaimed.
	“Gull darn it, Daisy May,” popped Jedediah coming out, “that’s the third time you’ve done that!”
	“Fuck off, Jed,” bitched the girl, “I can do what I’s wants to do!”
	“Yeah, and so’s can I!” and the big hunk of a fella grabbed up his sister hauling her over his shoulder to the barn.  What went on inside Misty couldn’t see.  She wasn’t sure she wanted to—there was a lot of noise going on within stirring up the animals who were curious too.
	Misty took the reins of Gronk and quietly slipped away.

Meanwhile,
	“How much is that!?” squealed a stunned Sage.
	“A lot,” replied her husband, Cray, “a fucking lot!” opening the just delivered brown parcel package and there were bound stacks of bills.  Greenbacks, American money, some Canadian money—and lots of each.  A note was within:
	“We miners of the Underground Brigade our more than pleased with your productions. Please continue.  And if possible, more would be grand.”  The deep-in-the-ground miners were very grateful, and they paid up very gratefully, too!

	There, too, was the hint for more of the same, younger, and “not so willing.”
	“What does that mean?” Sage asked.
	Cray sighed thinking carefully, “I think it means they want to see a girl—tied up, being spanked, stuff like that.”
	“Tortured?”
	Cray nodded half-heartedly.
	“You into that?”
	“No, not really.”  He was careful not to frighten his wife, she was willing to participate in a lot of narly shit—but there were limits.
	“Spanking is one thing,” he said piling the money out, sorting it, “but I will only go so far.”
	Sage helped sort, nodded, “Maybe we should see about one of those minding devices.”
	That was an interesting proposal—however dangerous.  And expensive.
	“I think they’ll like what we send them.” Cray surmised.  They had paid off well for what had been sent so far, “more of the same” was requested and would be delivered.  Torture?  Cray wasn’t so sure about that route.  In no way did he want to harm the girls.  However, there was always the remote option of doing something to some other girl.
	Some OTHER girl.
	Some other girl not his girl—girls.
	That implied kidnapping.
	That implied the use of an minding device as his wife suggested.
	Dangerous.

Meanwhile, back in the woods…
	Inasmuch as she was disgusted—she wasn’t sickened or even appalled.
	Curious.  Misty Elaine Hurricane was “curious” about what it would be like to whack off a goat.  Well, not having a goat there was the next best thing—her pony!  She had seen Gronk pee; his horsey dick hung near right to the ground!
	There was no way—no fucking way—that Misty could take on the dick like Daisy May had.  No way.  However,—
	No.
	No.
	No fucking way.
	No fucking she could even THINK about what she was thinking.  No matter how curious she was there was no way.  No way.
	Maybe.
	Maybe just to get the curiosity thing out of her system.
	Maybe.
	The day was getting on and it was time to head back home.
	Along the way,
	Voices and giggles got her attention.  She was walking Gronk, tying his reins to a low limb she sneaked her way to a small area that was a campsite.  There was a picnic table, a fire pit, and a small barbequer on a stand.  Present were four little kids and two teens.  No one had any clothes on.  There was a small pond nearby and the group had been skinny dipping.  There were daypacks nearby and the group seemed to be happy-happy having a good time.
	Kristy McFeersum was the teenage girl; she was thirteen.  Nice girl, she had said “hello” to Misty at the Market—a huge gathering place for locals and passing tourists to converge for foods and crafts.  Also for socializing.  Logan was a nice boy of fourteen, sandy blond hair, very nice smile, nice butt.  He had also said “hello” to Misty, greeting her with a warm smile and those nice heavenly eyes!
	Now, she was seeing him naked!
	Also naked were four little kids; two boys, Jackie and Lonnie were eight years young.  Two girls were Karen and Megan.  Karen was six and the sister of Kristy.  Megan was eight.   Lonnie was the brother of Logan.  After a time and Kristy “showed” the girls (and boys) the proper technique of how to give a blowjob.
	Misty was still thinking of Daisy May—it was a wonder she didn’t SUCK Frosty’s goaty dick.  It’s a wonder!  Kristy masturbated Logan’s cock, cupped his balls, fingered herself then devoured the boy’s hard-hard cock.  She wasn’t a pro, she didn’t do it the way Misty did to her daddy.
	But a blowjob is a blowjob is a blowjob.  There’s no such a thing as a “bad” blowjob.  Rolling the tongue around the crown, diddling the piss slit, that’s all well and good (and good!) but suck that mother!
	Then the unbelievable happened—Megan and Karen stepped up.
	Remember, Megan was eight years young and Karen—six!  Six!
	The girls took holt of the teen boy’s freshly slobbered on cock, masturbated it, then each took a turn sucking it.  Jackie and Lonnie stood by (unsucked) fondling themselves.  Megan and Karen giggled whilst they did their shtick on the dick; Kristy fingered herself as she knelt on her knees—and also caressed Karen’s little ass.  Logan stood tall; he was a lean fellow with a mostly tan body.  And soon he was in the throws of ecstasy.
	 His ejaculate spewed onto the girls’ sweet faces.  Karen had super fine super long-long blond hair.  Her bangs hung part way covering her eyes; she was a sweet little thing and Logan splashed his goo the most onto her face.  Megan got some, too; she had lovely brown hair, blue eyes, a long narrow face, a long narrow body.  A rag was used to wipe the girls’ cummy faces and then it was on to the next bit.
	The next bit.
	Laying down and Kristy spread her legs.  She fingered herself inviting all who gazed upon her to take a dip.  If the boys Jackie and Lonnie thought that they would get first dibs—they were wrong.  Logan knelt down between the willing girl’s legs and she was hairless between!  The teen boy fingered her pussy using multiple fingers, shoved a daring finger into her asshole, then engulfed her poon with his mouth.
	Misty liked it when her daddy did that.
	Logan sucked and sucked and sucked; the kids surrounding were all in giggles with the little boys hammering their schlongs in eager anticipation.  Logan’s cock reminded Misty of Frosty’s cock!
	After a couple of minutes and Kristy was undulating like a cut worm, Logan finished up his “down under” task and moved up, pausing at her teenage breasts to suckle them while his cock merely rested against her pussy.
	Misty’s pussy was sopping wet and she wanted to get herself home and—
	--and be with her daddy.  And she meant “BE” with her daddy.  So far she was keeping her pussy a “daddy” free area.  He could hump the slit, grind his heart out, glide his cock up and down but so far—not penetration.  Misty was thinking that for the added perks of traveling, designer this, designer that, her own car (when she was legally able to drive it) and basically whatever she wanted that she would allow him to sink his incestuous daddy dick into her and “have a go.”
	Logan did a fair amount of grinding against Kristy’s cunt.  He plunged in and pumped vigorously for about half a minute, then teasingly pulled out to grind against her sensitive pussy driving HER mad with desire.
	“PUT IT IN ME!” she bellowed, “FUCK ME!”
	Logan chuckled and followed her commands.
	The pumping began followed by the bucking.  Misty wanted to move to where she could see the actual penetration but she risked being detected.  She watched her father fuck Sage and that was alright.  She watched, too, Sage on top of her father and she (Misty) didn’t know couples could do it that way.
	Logan got his nut a few minutes later.  He lay on Kristy but not with his full weight.  They kissed and that made the kids watching giggle and carry on as kids do when they see teenagers kissing.  Logan finally got up; long ropey strands of his cock juice ran from his piss slit out of Kristy’s cunt.  The girl furiously fingered herself and seemed to be in the continued need for more!
	Logan barely had to give a nudge to the willing boys to help out the cause.
	Lonnie was first.
	No foreplay, just mounted the teenage girl and got busy with the program.

	While Lonnie did his thing, Logan held Karen to him fingering her on the sly.  Megan came between his legs, too; his cock was pressed right up against Karen’s lily white tender six year old ass.  He fingered Megan, too.  He was a happy very happy guy!
	And when Lonnie had had enough and rolled off, eight year old Jackie took his turn.
	Misty was just flabbergasted.  Just!
	And it wasn’t long before Kristy was schooling Jackie and Lonnie on how to fuck Megan and Karen.  Logan’s cock never softened.  Misty’s cunt never stopped tingling or being “moist.”  Little six year old Karen suckled Jackie’s eight year old cock, then laid out, legs spread, and giggled while he licked her out.  Misty found herself in a wash of awestruck wow.  She eyed the entire event but her eyes were on Logan’s dong and Jackie’s, too.
	And Logan seemed to be eyeing Karen and Megan!
	Kristy placed her hand on Jackie’s humping ass; her other hand was between her own legs friggin’ herself away.  The little girl didn’t seem to mind too much to doings doing to her—she giggled.  Jackie wasn’t an “expert” by no means; his little puddling kept slipping out and a couple of times Karen was heard to say,
	“It’s not in.”
	Logan stroked his bone and soon was schooling his brother into boning Megan.  Logan himself fingered the little girl; she fondled his sac, stroked his cock, but seemed more serious about the situation then Karen.
	After the kids had fucked it was time for the teens to get in some action.  But all the while Logan was humping Kristy—he seemed to be checking out Karen and Megan.  The little girls were on either side of the teens; the boys were watching for a time but got bored and went off to pee or whatever boys do in the woods.
	Megan laying out on her backside spread her legs and began fingering herself.  Much for the benefit of Logan’s wondering eye.  Then, on the other side, Karen got on her hands and knees, face down and ass up.  It was a wondrous view and Logan caressed her hinny with a loving care.
	When Jackie and Lonnie returned they took their turns with Kristy.
	Jackie settled on her chest for a titty fuck/suck while Lonnie got between her legs drilling his pud into her pussy.  Logan had the girls on his lap and they played with his cock.  And at length he put the girls down and tried a little “action” with them.  No penetration—but close counts.  He grinded against their hairless poons, dragged the head of his pulsing schlong against their sex, and poked-poked-poked their assholes.
	The group soon gathered their things, dressed, and left the campsite.
	Misty followed suit making for home.

Horseplay
	One day the Queen and the Duke were having tea.  The conversation turned equestrian and the Queen told the Duke about her new prize horse.
	After a spell of ranting and raving over this horse the Duke said, 
 	“Well, then, let’s see this fine animal!”
	So the Queen and the Duke went out to the stables to admire the horse.
	Just as the Queen walked around the prized stallion the horse let out an earth shuttering fart—accompanied by a tremendous stench.
	The Queen turned a red and said, 
	“Oh!  I am terribly sorry about that!”
	“Oh, that’s quite alright,” the Duke replied, “I had thought it was the horse!”

	A white horse walks into a pub and asks for a whisky.
	The landlord says “Hey, we’ve got a whisky named after you.”
	The horse replies “You got a drink named Irving?”

	A horse walks into a smart cocktail bar.
	The doorman says “Wait, you can’t come in here without a tie.”
	The horse goes out to his car, looks in the boot and gets a set of jump leads and ties them around his neck.  He goes back in and says to the doorman,
	“This alright?”
	The doorman says “Hmm, ok... but don’t be starting nothing.”

	A poorly-looking horse limps into a bar with a bandage round his head.  He orders a glass of champagne, a vintage brandy and two pints of Guinness.
	He downs the lot and says to the barman “I shouldn’t really be drinking this with what I’ve got?”
	“Why, what have you got?” the barman says out of concern.
	“About £2 and a carrot.”

*

	Ever have one of those days where you feel like you just gotta cave in to curiosity?  What it would be like to touch your tongue to the prongs on a 9-volt battery?  What would it be like—for a guy—to shave his pubes?  How about sky diving?  Swim the Thames?  Tell the fat girl at the end of the bar “Let’s go back to my place!”  What would it be like for a guy to be pregnant?  What would it be like if you hadn’t said “I do.”?  What would it be like to whack off a horse?
	What would it be like—
	Uh, what was that about a horse?
	She was pert near almost half way home when she had to pee.
	The woods were thick with brush, trees, bushes, grasses high and grasses low.  A few boulders, logs, and chirping birds.  Squirrels and chipmunks skittered about all over the place and made squatting down to pee a little challenging.  But Misty did—stopping the stream now and then when she thought she heard voices.
	Finally done she stood, stretched, and caressed her ass.
	Then she squatted again.
	She didn’t know why—she just did.
	Gronk munched on some leaves, farted, and stood with his pony dong hanging down part way.  The things she had seen—Daisy May.  Wow!  Kristy and Logan—double wow.  Daisy May!  Daisy May and Frosty.  Wow.  Wow.  Double Oh My God Fucking Wow!
	Misty stared and stared at Gronk’s dick.
	Her pussy was still tingling from watching Kristy and Logan.  That was amazing as all get out.  Was the whole world mad?  Was it the country air?  Her daddy and new mommy were wigging her out.  Now she was herself embroiled in sexual depravity—and her best friend in the city, Sara—what the fuck!?
	As if another power was empowering her she stretched out her hand and grasped Gronk’s cock.  It was warm.  It felt very weird if not strange and not similar to her grasping of her daddy’s dick.
	Then she got a better grip and began moving her hand up and down.
	What was she doing?
	Her mind fell back to Daisy May.  Gronk wasn’t a goat and didn’t have a goaty dick, but; still there were similarities.  Misty soon found herself fingering herself with swarms of deep illicit thoughts ramming their way into her mind.  Deep-illicit-thoughts.  Ramming speed.
	Resting her head against Gronk she closed her eyes.
	What would her daddy think?
	Humph!  What would her daddy do?  One, either spank her or Two; film her doing it!  Wow.  Those remote miners would go broke sending their money for videos of Misty whacking off farm animals.
	How far would it go?
	She didn’t want to think about it.
	She did, though, whack off her pony.  He was not classified as a true “pony” ‘cause he was some inches bigger (but not by much.)  There was a lot of clearance underneath than most ponies had—this gave ample room for Misty to masturbate (her pony.)
	What would her friend in the city think!
	Soon and Gronk was getting antsy; his back legs began to prance, he made noises, grunts, whinnies, and swishing of his tail.
	There was no way, though, Misty was going to SUCK Gronk’s dick.
	No way.
	No amount of money, gifts, whatever, would get her to taste a horse dick.
	No way.
	No way.
	Maybe
	A long pause (in her mind.)
	Maybe?
	Maybe.
	She wasn’t, though, tasting his cum.  That was out.  She didn’t particularly like the taste of her daddy’s cum so she was sure as hell wasn’t going to like the taste of Gronk’s!  No maybes there.
	With a steady grip and a steady motion of masturbation Gronk the Wonder Pony came.  A great gush of horsey spunk exploded in torrents from his multi colored cock making a mess on the ground.
	“Holy shit!” Misty exclaimed.
	The look on Gronk’s face was one of “Ahhhh!”

	At home and a worn Misty found her daddy in bed with Cinnamon.  The five year old was “drugged” up with cold medicine and unaware of her predicament.  No one had clothes on.  Sage was behind the camera—naked.  On the bed and Cinnamon was on her side, Misty’s daddy had left leg raised up and his cock grinding crazily against her taint and pussy slit.  Gobs of sperm was already laden thereon.
	“Would you like to take your clothes off, honey,” said Sage, “and join in?”
	Seeing his daughter’s pause, “You want to go to that concert, don’t you?  The one in Seattle?  No parents allowed?” but we’ll be there just the same.
	Misty sighed—deal.
	While she stripped off her clothes—slowly one article at a time was discarded.  And Sage filmed her stripping down.  When she got to her panties she had to slowly-slowly-s-l-o-w-l-y roll them down.  Then stand and finger herself before walking slowly to the bed.  The camera was right on her darling little pre-teen butt.  When she got on the bed, she spread her legs some exposing her crack, hole, and poon.
	“Finger you pussy.” whispered her daddy.  “Lick her pussy clean.”
	Misty sighed (to herself); she felt some weird trepidation going on within her.  How would her daddy react if he knew about her and Gronk?  Her mind wasn’t the same.  She licked up the cum spillage on Cinnamon’s pussy and since her daddy’s dong was right there—she sucked it, too.
	Might as well!
	There were some misgivings Misty had—not so much about her fooling around sexually with her dad or him to her but the molestation of little Cinnamon.  That bothered a little.  But, on the other hand, if the child didn’t know she was being molested—ok then.  What you don’t know won’t hurt you—right?
	After slurping on her daddy’s dong, getting him hard again, she lay out beside the unconscious Cinnamon and her daddy began a bout of seriously fingering her pussy.  Misty couldn’t shake being embarrassed; she also felt sheepish about being naked with Sage present.
	Be that as it may; Misty moved to sit on her daddy taking his prong up into her asshole.  It was a tight fit and still a little mind boggling for the preteen.  Once she was settled down on the whole thang she leaned back some, legs spread wide, and the video camera zooming up close and personal at the whole sordid doings.
	Later on, while drying off from an intense showering, Misty waited for Sage who was standing/leaning at the bathroom door to say something.
	“You know, sweetie,” she began, “there’s one more thing you and your daddy haven’t done—yet.”
	Misty wasn’t sure where the conversation was going but already she had the heebie-jeebies.
	“What’s that?” she asked innocently enough.
	“He—wants to—uhm, I think it would be good if the two of you would—”
	“What?”
	“Make love.”
	Misty wasn’t shocked or even stunned.  She didn’t know what to think of even how to react.  She kind of felt that the situation was coming.
	“It would kind of be special,” Sage continued, “make your relationship a little more unique.” No shit.

OMG!  OMG!  OMG!
	“Oh my God!” there was more money in the parcel box than she had ever seen.  Sage’s breath was literally taken away.
	“Wait,” said Cray, “there’s more.” And he produced from a foil wrapped wrapper that was double wrapped, wrapped in sailcloth, wrapped in some sort of unknown material similar to sea lion, walrus, shark, whale, a handheld device similar to a small television/stereo remote control.
	“What is that?” Sage asked.
	“According to the note (attached) it’s a Mind Altering Device.”
	Sage nearly fell to the floor.  She couldn’t catch her breath.
	“AND,” added Cray, “the miners want to see hardcore stuff.”
	“Hardcore stuff?” Sage inquired.
	“Out and out rapes, against will, shit like that.”
	Sage couldn’t fathom how far that would take them.  She knew, though, that it was dangerous.  So she had to ask,
	“Are-are you going to use it?” her voice was high pitched and she was gravely concerned.
	“Might—might be a bad idea.” he said instantly correcting himself.  Sensing his wife’s concerns—it was a wise idea.
	“We-we could really get in trouble.” Sage said still voicing her concerns.
	“Probably.”
	His wife was kinky, willing to let him molest her own daughter and propose that HIS daughter have sex with him.  She was willing to film him molesting the girls, watch willingly as her husband jerked off onto their five year old, grinding his cock against her pussy, cum in her mouth, and sodomize Misty.  But she drew the line at electronic mind messing.

My God, Oh!
	The conditions were right; no parental units!
	She herself could have gone with them.  Nah!
	She could have gone to the city to hang with her peeps.  Nah!
	Instead, Misty Anne Pigweed-Hurricane washed and brushed Gronk.
	This, of course, drugging little Cinna.
	“You wouldn’t mind babysitting your little sister, would you?” asked Sage.
	“You two need some time together.” said her daddy.
	“You could take her for a ride on Gronk!” suggested Sage.
	Bitch gonna die!  No one rides da Gronk but ME!
	But still Misty smiled and shammed it on.  No way—no way in hell was she going to be stuck the rest of her life “babysitting” a little brat.  Fuck that.
	And as soon after the parental units shimmered out of sight,
	“Let’s play a game!”
	Cinnamon was all for that.
	They had popcorn and began watching some lame cartoon that thirty minutes into Misty tricked the little girl into drinking a helping of “special juice.”  It was super-duper high potent cough medicine.  In five minute the tyke was out.
	Afterwards and it was out to the barn to Gronk to give him a washing and a brushing.  Afterwards, and he didn’t smell so “horsey” she sat on a hay bale just gazing into his eyes.  Her thoughts were jumbled, rumbled, and tumbled.  Wicked thoughts crept in slowly and silently.  Daisy May and Frosty.  She had felt of her daddy’s dong against her; she had felt his cock ramming up her asshole.  What WOULD it be like to have Gronk’s cock in her?
	No!
	She meant her daddy—her daddy’s cock!
	Gronk’s cock?
	No way.
	No friggin’ effin’ way.
	Her breathing increased.
	Gronk pranced, whinnied then nuzzled the side of her head.
	No way.
	Once more, though, she reached down underneath and took holt of his penis.
	She was sure her daddy would flip the fuck out if he saw her.
	With her fingers about the prancing pony’s cock she began working it Up and Down.  Gronk’s breath was hot on her neck; his muzzle’s whiskers tickled her.
	“You like that, doncha, boy?” she whispered.
	As if in answer the palomino painted horse nuzzled her again and made some sort of grunting sound.  Misty continued her efforts and as Gronk got a little stiffer and pranced a little more—a curious tingling began in Misty, too.
	Her mind went blank.  It just went blank.  Stopping just shy of bringing Gronk to orgasm and Misty stood up casually looking around the half barn for security sake—then stripped off her clothing.
	The “half-barn” was just a large shelter that was once with a large open front end but now more like a barn with large doors.  Hay was strewn about the dirt floor, there were three other stalls (but empty.)  There, too, was also a partial loft with extra hay bales where the children of the previous owners played fort.
	Like a typical cowgirl, Misty had begun wearing her hair braided, twin braids, just to her shoulders.  She wanted them to be a little longer.  Jeans, boots, western shirt—all costing $$$.  Slipping off her panties she stood and couldn’t help but feel a little giddy.  Butt naked, outside, in the barn?  There were no close neighbors, the barn doors were open (so as she could hear the car pull in the gravely drive as well as if should anyone come to the house—or take the walking trail out behind the house of which was in direct line o’ sight of the open barn doors.)
	Lightly she fingered herself, then hugged her pony.  He was 12 hands tall with his midsection, called the “barrel” not as big round as most.  Then, she dragged a half bale of hay positioning it just so under Gronk.  Then she lay on the bale taking Gronk’s still hardened dick rubbing it against her pussy.
	Rub-rub-rub!
	The rubbing soon turned to gouging.
	The gouging eluded to prodding with Gronk getting into the fray jamming his horsey dick into Misty’s willing cunt.  The girl cried out as she felt her hymen punctured.  The pressure of Gronk’s cock in her sex was beyond belief.  She gyrated her hips and her pony fucked her.
	Wow.  Would sex with her daddy be better?  Or worse?
	Was having sex with her horse worse?  Or better?
	Wow—what a concept!

	“Oh my God!” she blurted her eyes and blinked her mouth.
	“Sonofabitch works!” Cray said being a little surprised.
	In their clutches was a teenage girl from the Farmer’s Market.  They hadn’t planned on “acquiring” subject matter for their film so close to home.  But they stopped to check on some fresh farmer’s produce and there she was.  Not a local.  She had uniqueness about her that caught Cray’s attention.
	“Hmmm, she looks possible.” said Sage musing.  She hadn’t intended, though, for her husband to follow thru.
	The Farmer’s Market had no “security cameras” and was not high tech by any means.  There were security guards and that was it.  The risk of absconding away with a Subject was enormous.  But the “uniqueness” of Jeanette’s looks made her too much not to.
	While Sage watched—for security, hysterical parents, and occasionally her brash hubby, Cray discovered the “uniqueness” of the EMAD the miner’s had sent.  Not only did the electronic device affect the mind, it manipulated it also.  Verbal commands could be whispered into the gadget and transmitted to the Subject’s mind.  The Subject carried out the command without thought or much hesitation.
	Laying down in the folded-down middle seats of the SUV and Subject Jeanette undone her beige jeans and pushed them down.  Not much hesitation.  She was virtually mindless.  Sage wanted to go home, with Jeanette, but if Misty should walk in on them—it would be hard to explain.  Kinda.  How far was too far for Misty?  Would she freak out?  Could she be calmed down?
	It would be safer at the house regardless.
	And Sage was able to convince Cray—right after he had the Subject’s panties down and her legs bent backwards.  The “gadget” was amazing!

Oh my God!  Oh my God!  Oh—my—God!
	She wasn’t going to be the same ever again—that was for damn sure.
	‘I just got fucked—by a horse!’
	Sex with her daddy?  That was one thing.  Sex with a farm animal?
	Wowzersville.
	It was a mind blowing experience—not to mention what it did for the body.  
	She wasn’t going to be the same again.
	But would she do it again?
	Was she disgusted by the deed she had done with Gronk?
	No, not really.  Freaked out was a better word.  How would her daddy react?
	What about Sage?
	Daisy May and her tall backwoods brother wouldn’t mind a bit.
	What would a goat dick feel like in comparison to Gronk’s horsey dick?
	Misty had managed to get the head of Gronk’s horsey dick into her sex, then a bit of shaft.  Masturbating the horse got him going and soon he was doing the fucking with Misty’s legs up along his sides.  Gronk whinnied and carried on making Misty a little crazy.  He was excited and she felt like she was in a hurricane.
	Then it was over.  Gronk shuddered and a huge blast of horsey cum exploded into her pussy.  There was a tremendous rush in the young human she had never felt before.  Her entire body went catatonic—but it was short lived.  Gronk pranced, grunted, snorted, farted, and nuzzled Misty’s neck.
	Misty pussy and legs were drenched in horse cum.
	“Wow.” she said allowed.
	At the spigot outside that fed the water trough she washed herself off then scurried into the house for a proper shower.  Checking on Cinnamon afterwards she flopped onto her bed going to sleep.
	Which was how Cray and Sage found her—naked on her bed at an angle sound to sleep.  Cray stared at her as she lay on her stomach—until Sage gouged him in the side.
	“Pervert!”
	“Yeah,” he retorted, “what’s your point?”
	He guided the Subject down the hall to their room where she was electronically commanded to fully undress.  Cray really liked her uniqueness; her face, hair style, body language.  It was a risk taking off from the Market with her and it would most certainly raise a ruckus.  Watching the girl undress just thrilled Cray.  Just!  Little girls thrilled him (pervert!) but teenage girls—they were more developed, had nice titties, more body shape and style and were definitely more fuckable.  Definitely!
	A long lingering moment was spent staring at the naked teen.  She was fourteen and had Cray’s attention and then some.
	Sage cleared her throat “Ahem!”
	Cray stripped off his clothes then set up the camera and lights.

	What was that sound?
	SMACK!  SMACK!  SMACK!
	Her mind was fuzzy; her stomach hungry.
	The scent of roses—wild fragranted the air.  Honeysuckle and wild scented weeds also were there—along with horse and the distinctive odor of pig shit.  Rome the pig specificially.
	SMACK!  SMACK!  SMACK!
	Sitting up and the fog in her mind didn’t clear.
	Gronk was on her mind.
	What would her daddy say to her?
	What would Sage think of her?
	She was hungry; mac & cheese would do the trick.  She had to check on Cinnamon.  She felt dizzy; her pussy was sore—and she wondered (slightly) if she could possible “take it up the ass”?  Her daddy prodded her asshole—but Gronk’s cock was not like her daddy’s at all.  Not at all.
	Stepping into her panties—SMACK!  SMACK!  SMACK! got her attention.
	Her mind couldn’t grasp it or make sense of it.
	Sticking her head out the door she heard the definite spanking sounds coming from down the hall—her parents’ bedroom.
	‘Holy shit!’ she said to herself, ‘They’re spanking Cinnamon?’
	Or each other.
	Trepidation held her up—what if they were into some weird kinky shit?
	Spanking each other?  What if—what if Sage was spanking her daddy?
	Oh!
	Misty crept up to the open parental door.
	“What—the—fuck!?” she blurted.
	On the bed was a girl she didn’t know, older, fifteen or so.  Naked, legs tied back and being spanked—by her daddy!
	Cray looked like the “deer in the headlights.”  Panic ensued quickly.
	Sage was speechless.  She feared that something like this would happen.
	Misty couldn’t move and was waiting for an explanation.
	While waiting for her explanation her daddy grabbed up the EMAD and zapped her.
	“What did you do?” blurted Sage.
	Cray was in too much panic to explain.
	“This is bad.” Sage cried.
	Cray shook his head and approached his daughter.  She made no moves, no further outbursts.  Sage was out of her mind; breathing hard and fraught with worry.
	“What are we going to do?”
	Shaking his head, Cray didn’t know.  Calming himself, though,
	“She’s alright.” then, “It’s going to be alright.”
	“How?”
	Still shaking his head, “I don’t know.”
	With another breath, waving his hand before her face, and touching her between her legs, “She’s captured.”
	“So now what?”
	Looking at the not-so sophisticated EMAD he nodded his head and pressed some buttons, scrolled thru the small on-board LCD menu, then whispered into Device’s microphone,
	“It’s a dream—you’re having a dream.  It’s all a dream.” Then pressed transmit.  Whether or not Misty accepted the transmission was not clear.  She was led back to her room and onto her bed.
	“When she wakes up—it’ll have been a dream.” Cray said.
	Sage was still in panic mode (but calming).  “You’d better strip her,” she said, “she was naked when she was in bed earlier.”
	Cray nodded and had no problem stripping his daughter’s panties and halter top off.  Then he patted her butt and realized—her mind was frozen.  Like with the other girl on his bed.
	“This has potential.” He said aloud—but meant to say it to himself.
	“What?” Sage asked.  “What do you mean?”
	Shit.  “This, this thing—it has potential.” He said wavering the EMAD.
	Sage was having serious misgivings about the Device.

	Back in their room and the paddling of Jeanette continued.  The girl’s locked mind was eased up a bit so as she could “react” to the beating; cry, shriek, thrash about and so on.  She was still controllable and if she got too out of hand with her outbursts there was the Panic Button that zapped her mind into Stun Mode shutting her down right damn fast.
	Cray went on to fuck the teenager; ramming mode!
	Sage’s mood was a little better—she zoomed the camera right in on her husband’s cock slamming into the teen’s twat.  But her mind wasn’t fully on the event at hand.  She understood the implications of the Device—it WAS dangerous.  It’s “potential” was dangerous.  It’s use was dangerous.  It was dangerous.
	But of course, Cray didn’t see it that way.

	Sneaking Jeanette back from whence she came wasn’t easy; law enforcing agents were everywhere looking for her and some roads were blocked with county deputies doing a car-to-car search.  Dangerous.
	So, while Sage stayed at home, Cray made a dangerous trek into the woods circumventing the deputies (and other law enforcing agents) taking Jeanette with him.  She was re-clothed—but not for long.  The trek into the woods was not without certain hazards.
	Getting his ass lost was one.
	Frustrated, and with Jeanette still “mindless” he did a little impromptu hanky-panky in the woods (but wasn’t alone in that venture.)  He was surprised that his wife didn’t consider was shenanigans with Jeanette—cheating.
	Of course, she was a little kinky on her own.  But still, sinking his dick into a pussy not her own?  Hmmm  Grounds for dismissal of the marital bliss bed.  She was a good egg, though; she operated the camera and made “suggestions” on how he was to proceed.  “on her side”  “leg up”  “backdoor”  “spank her”  “pee on her” and so on.
	Maybe he’d take her to the city for a nice romantic dinner.  Chicks dig that.
	A whirlwind trip to Paris?  London?  Tokyo?  A week on a Hawaiian beach?
	A cruise to the Bahamas?
	Having a small camera on his person (thinking ahead) he found a secure spot in the woods and decided to “commune with nature.”  The hour was getting long in the day; being lost didn’t bother him too much—as a former boy scout he had made markings along his way to find his way back to the main road.  The Farmer’s Market, his destination, wasn’t too far from his home—by road.  In his mind he had a map of the area—but so much for that.  He was lost!
	Might as well make the best of it.  Mind zapping was just ONE of the many features of the Electronic Mind Altering Device; “suggestion” was another.  He didn’t know how well it worked on Misty and was slightly worried about it.  Slightly.  To take his mind off of that worry,
	“Take your clothes off.”
	Jeanette did so and once more Cray Hurricane was elated.
	Watching a girl undress was a special turn-on for Cray—especially her sliding her panties down.  Off came his own clothes and with the small video camera capturing the moment he had the girl suck his dick.
	She did so.
	It was amazing.  Not so much the blowjob but the simple fact that she was doing it!  The Device was truly a magical wonder.  How it worked he didn’t know—he didn’t care.  The important thing was that it did!  Jeanette sucked and sucked and sucked until such a time as when Cray wanted in her “other” cock pleasing hole.
	The girl continued to follow commands, suggestions; laying down, legs spread.  She did have that uniqueness Cray liked; her face specifically.  after gazing on her a few seconds he “went down” on her licking her out, massaging her pussy with his thumb while jamming fingers into her asshole.  Soon and it was time for fucking.  Jeanette was all sweaty and had a strange draw to Cray.
	She was fourteen; was that the draw?  Her unique looks?  The EMAD being able to sway her?  He didn’t know.  He knew that it was something to do with “conquest.”  More than just fucking her up the ass, titty fucking, peeing on her unique face, and spanking her until her ass was red; there was more to it than what he could imagine.

	While he “put it to” the teenager, the girl herself reacted.  As she should.
	This helped and part of the reason Cray opted to utilize the Device in his “conquests.”  He didn’t want zombies in his expansion to enthrall the weird but money loaded miners.  He wondered how they got any work done with all them naked jerking off.
	Having already expended himself that day getting another “nut” was a toughie.  He managed—but it was a toughie.  The strain of achieving orgasm was quite a work out and drained him.  So much so that he lay partially off-side the teenager and went to sleep!
	Voices awoke him half an hour later.
	The day was waning and if he didn’t get home soon his wife was going to be freaking out—waiting for the deputies to arrive at her door telling her husband’s been arrested for kidnapping, rape, and in possession of an mind altering device.
	Leaving Jeanette at the base of a large boulder, Cray sneaked up the small hill thru the dense foliage to find a campsite by a creek.  Close by was a pick-up with a camper shell.  Fishing poles were leaned against it but there was no fishing going on.  Instead, on a table was a girl about eleven years young or so, dark hair, and getting boned by an man in his 60s!
	The girl’s overalls were on the bench of the picnic table, her yellow panties, too.  She wore a matching undershirt, yellow, and it was pushed up so as the man boning her could fondle her beginning breasts.  The girl rolled her head back and forth seemingly not that interested in getting laid.  The man with his dick in her was.  The girl clenched the tables’ edges, winced as the man neared the end of his fucking her and did seem to arrive at some sort of “yeah, ok, that’s good.”
	The old man, Grandpa Noah Radnaughty, pumped vigorously blasting a hot load of nut juice DEEP into his granddaughter’s pussy.  He pulled out but was far from “done.”  Spanking his cock against the girl’s pussy then gouging her gash he chuckled and seemed to be enjoying himself a little more than she was.
	Noah was in his late sixties; a bit of beard, a seaman’s cap, a slight pudge, and a lot of gall.
	“There, now,” he drawled, “that wasn’t so bad now, was it?” 
	The young girl shrugged, sat up, straightened out her shirt, then watched casually (with disdain?) her grandpa flop his cock then pull up his pants.  He continued to chuckle.  The girl slid off the table grabbed up her clothes and made for the camper.  The old man eyed the girl walking away from him—with lustful intent.  The old man smiled and didn’t fasten his clothing.  He moved to the camper and before his granddaughter could close he followed her inside.  Moments later and the camper was rockin’!

	Back with Jeanette and Cray was incredibly horny.  The blowjob she had given him earlier had been delicious but had waned; the goings on at the campsite had revitalized him (and how!)  Another round of nookie was in order.  Stripping the girl down he slammed her pussy with great gusto.  A new furor swelled within him; the girl grunted and made faces as his raucous fucking was more wild than usual.
	Achieving his nut took a little while; he thought of fucking that girl on the table, his daughter, his wife, Cinnamon.  Cinnamon?  Really?  She was five!
	(yeah, what’s your point?)
	The narly thoughts helped and a great gusher of cum blasted into Jeanette’s cunt.  A little toying with her titties and he was a happy guy!  He would have actually rather “kept” her—somehow.  There was a lot of that going around, though.  Of late; in the news, the headlines, around the world, nationally, young girls, young teens, young adults were found to have been held captive for YEARS!  Mostly as sex slaves.
	Cray had no intention of keeping any girl acquired via the EMAD, just for as long as it took to “get it out of his system” so to speak.  To fuck her three holes, spank, fuck her face, see her get boinked by a dog—
	Hmmm  no dog at home but there was a horse!
	Cray was aware of “country life” and girls who had “relationships” with their farm animals.  He was aware, too, that some country boys had relationships with various farm animals, too.  But he wasn’t one of them.
	Misty.  Misty’s pony Gronk.  He smiled and found a tremendous ache in his cock as he thought of Jeanette sucking off Gronk’s cock.  He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to see the girl getting fucked by Gronk.  What would his wife say!?  What would his daughter say!?  Then, he couldn’t believe he was even thinking—even conjuring a consideration of such an act.  He sighed and let the thought go.  For now.
	After redressing Jeanette the attempt to return her begun again.

	Success!
	In a roundabout way the return of Jeanette was a done deal; suggested in her mind was the simple fact that she had simply wandered off and “get lost.”  That’s sort of what happened to the one who had “helped” in her return.  On his return to his home—lost!
	Not just lost but WAY LOST.
	Those markings he had made along his way had somehow gotten lost themselves.  He noted some broken branches weren’t quite like his; carefully placed piles of rocks were not where he thought they were supposed to be.
	Odd.
*

Rude awakening
	Ever get that feeling when you know something aint right?
	Lucy Coldernell knew something wasn’t right when she couldn’t move her arms.  Then her legs.  Her head was dizzy, stomach was same, a terrible taste was in her mouth, and she had to go to the bathroom.
	Her mind was a little fuzzy on details—especially on how she came to be in such a predicament.  It felt like to her that she had been in a long-long sleep.  And waking up was a bitch.  She couldn’t get her eyes open; they hurt and wouldn’t clear.  She needed to rub them but her hands—why were her hands tied up?
	“Remember you have a piano lesson at the church, ten-thirty.” her mom had told her.  Then a meeting with the children’s director about the puppet class.  Take some craft supplies to the senior center.  Go to the hospital and see her friend there; talk to the hospital reverend about doing a puppet show for the children’s ward.
	…the hospital.
	She did her piano lesson at the church for an hour.
	Patricia Yardisbigger has ten people signed up for the puppet class.
	Delivered two large boxes of craft stuff to the oldsters at the senior center.
	The hospital…
	Hmmm  Lucy didn’t remember going to the hospital.
	Somewhere between the senior center and the two blocks further to the hospital—something happened.  It was a cloudy day, a little muggy-uggy; the walk from the senior center to the hospital was a two block walk along apartments on one side and a commerce buildings on the other—where she walked where the hospital was on the same side.
	The image of the hospital was in her mind, the parking lot, the entrance, the sidewalk cut-off the meandered like a creek thru the trees to the various entrances to the hospital.  But she never made it to any of those entrance doors.
	Slowly and her mind began to clear—her vision part of her mind anyways.
	She was naked!
	WTF!?
	Naked!  When did THAT happen?
	And how?
	By who?
	She was dreaming.
	That was it.  A dream.
	But she remembered going to the church, talking to Patricia about the puppets, nearly wetting her pants before getting to the bathroom.  She remembered being at the senior center—the “smell” that lingered there was atrocious.
	There was one of those oil trucks that spread oil on the roads (but wasn’t currently doing so); she remembered someone fixing chicken—walking by the apartment buildings.  She got a whiff of cookies, cinnamon cookies (her favorite!) and the roses from out front of the dentists’ offices she walked by on her way to the hospital.
	“Hello.” said a voice interrupting her thoughts.
	The room was dark but there was just ambient light to show her a boy sitting nearby.  He was naked, too.  Disheveled blond hair, hazel eyes, and tan-tan-tan all over.  And naked.  A boy about twelve; very white teeth, sitting cockeyed with one knee up, leaning.  He had a curious smile on his face, kind of a smirk and kind of just being a boy.
	Lucy was confused.
	“W-what’s going on?” she asked.
	Before the boy could answer—a man appeared suddenly.  Out of the gloomy darkness surrounding a naked man came into view.  He was tall, naked, short dark hair, naked, green eyes, and had a hard-on.  He was always naked.  Lucy averted eyes—after staring at the nakedness of the naked man.
	Lucy then realized that there was a choker chain about her neck.
	Panic began to creep into her mind.
	The boy spoke, “It’s easier if you do what he wants.”
	Lucy stared at the naked boy.  “W-what do you mean?”
	In answer, the naked man produced a cattle prod, an electrified “motivator.”
	Lucy’s mind began to exceed panic level and except fright mode.
	“Oh my God!” she blurted.
	“It hurts, too.” the boy said with a grin and a chortle.  “You don’t want to be zapped by it for sure.”
	Lucy was sure of it herself.  The sudden realization of her predicament came to her—kidnapped!  Oh—my—God!
	“W-wh-what—” she couldn’t formulate words.
	“He wants me to do you.”
	Lucy stared at the boy.  “Do?  Do what?”
	The boy grinned some more, chuckled and nodded his head.
	The naked man hadn’t said a word.
	The naked boy stared at Lucy—specifically between her opened legs.
	Lucy began to freak; more realization of her predicament began to seep into her and freeze her with fear.  Her legs were not only spread out by the ankles but also by the knees.  Her hands were tied above her head.  She was sitting on a carpet; there was a bit of air current and a lingering pungent odor of mustiness was about.
	“Do me?” she queried.  Did that mean what she thought it meant?
	Yep!
	The boy crawled over.
	Lucy tried frivolously to close her legs.  The naked man sat with a knee up, leaning, and the “motivator” close at hand.  Lucy didn’t want to but she did stare at the man’s penis.  It wasn’t her first time seeing a “penis”; she HAD seen her daddy’s penis, not on purpose.  And there were her two brothers, Sam and David.
	Sam was seventeen, David was twelve.  Lucy—fourteen.  Brother Sam she had seen “playing with himself”; brother David was a “streaker” when he could safely get away with it.  He didn’t always and preacher daddy chastised him for his rudeness—usually with a belt.  Didn’t stop him from streaking, though.
	There was a bit of “Show & Tell” with the siblings three.  More to the point of “touchy/feely.”  Mostly it was Sam “touching” Lucy’s ass with his dick.  In turn, she “touched” him—his dick.  Mutual masturbation, fondling of his balls, and a couple of times of grinding his cock against her pussy.  No oral, no anal, no penetration.
	Of David?  Well, a little more there.  With his weenie wrapped in a prophylactic (rubber/condom) he delved into her pussy—one time.  She DID kiss his penis—unwrapped, and masturbate him until he came off.  In turn, the boy kissed her vagina and they showered together.  Nothing else followed.
	The naked boy, Ronnie, moved up—and for the first time he wasn’t smiling.
	“If I don’t do you,” he said in a bare whisper, then cocked his head at a glance to the naked man (and the more important cattle prod) and he didn’t need to finish his sentence—Lucy got the conveyance.  She nodded.  This was so bizarre!
	The boy positioned himself; his penis rested firmly on her pussy.
	“It’s a dream.” Lucy kept telling herself, “A bad fucking dream!”
	Breathing hard, staring into the boy’s hazel eyes, Lucy griped the bindings that bound her and the boy entered her.  It was not so unlike when her brother had done so—and not so long ago, either.  Ronnie slid near effortlessly all the way, then pulled out part way—then pushed back in.  He repeated his steps until such a time as he was “fucking.”
	The naked man caressed the boy’s ass.
	Ronnie grinned sheepishly adjusting his weight and positioning.  Lucy had the concept of “sexual intercourse” but her limited participation made her feel inept.  And try-try-try as she might—she couldn’t help but glance at the naked man.  HE was playing with himself; masturbating.
	And try-try-try as she might—Lucy couldn’t help but find some pleasure in the deed being done to her.  There was no denying the good feeling there was from Ronnie’s pumping action.  Although he was twelve, same age as her younger brother, the boy seemed to have some talent and managed to bring Lucy to the brink of orgasm—then pushed her over and she was cumming!
	Her mind blanked.
	Her daddy was a preacher at a community church.
	She was a “good girl.”
	There were “incidences” in her life where she got the belt across her ass, but only as a young child seeing how far she could get away with something or push her single father.  Turns out—not so far.  Mostly it was the boys who got the belt; breaking curfew (being caught coming in thru the bedroom window); an occasional lie about grades, a fight at school, the offering plate sometimes a little “light.”
	How she came to be in such a dire situation she couldn’t fathom.
	A dream she kept telling herself—it’s a fucking dream!
	After Ronnie got his nut and pulled out, he scooted off to one side and there was another person—a girl!  A girl about eleven or so, laying down, naked.  Lucy was getting confounded by the minute.
	The naked man came further into view—like right between her legs view.
	‘Oh shit!’
	Closing her eyes didn’t block the assault.  The man positioned himself between her legs and she felt his manly penis gliding against her sex.
	“Oh my God!  Oh my God!  Oh—my—God!”
	The man gave no facial expression but Lucy derived him to be evil.
	The presence of his manhood entered her and she strove hard to breathe.
	Nothing was said.  The man penetrated her but only part way.  Then he pulled out and spanked her pussy with his hardness; then he poked her asshole bringing Lucy to freak out a little.  She knew that guys liked to poke their prong’s there—but she didn’t know why.  It was gross.  ‘I poop from there!’
	When she fussed too much despite her bindings—she got shocked.
	The cattle prod sizzled and was pressed against her thigh.
	It was the most incredible sensation she had ever experienced in her life.
	It was an electrical shock that debilitated her but also somehow in a weird way—excited her.  Her pussy was tingling and then she was tingling like an itch all over.  The man drove his penis into her and began pumping.  Slowly.  Lucy found herself strangely pumping back!
	The man placed his hand under her butt and drove his cock fully into her.
	Sensations galore filled Lucy, consuming her beyond her imagination.  She had no idea sex could be so dramatic!  She knew it was rape.  It was out and out kidnapping and rape.  However, however, oh my God however it was tantalizing.  She knew that she wasn’t supposed to submit and she was only partly threatened.
	And even that was not so bad.  She was enthralled.  Confused, but enthralled just the same.  She shuddered and realized her knowledge of sex had been off.  She was clenching and pumping back into the man.  She was fully captivated by his wiles and she didn’t care.  It was out and out kidnapping and rape—she didn’t care.
	The pumping increased; Lucy struggled against the bindings binding her.  She couldn’t determine where she was and at the moment—it didn’t matter.  She was sweating, the man fucking her was sweating—she stared into his absolute green eyes and felt the pressure of his penis thrusting vigorously inside her.
	The pace of pumping kicked up a notch and Lucy found herself cumming.
	At home and the girl frigged herself to beat all; her brothers took turns fingering/massaging her pussy trying to bring her orgasm.  Sometimes they succeeded.  In the shower and the handheld “magic” wand did wonders to her fevered poon; turning the dial to “pulse” and placing it right against her bud sent her into sexual frenzy.
	And sexual frenzy was what she and the man entered into.
	And he was smiling!
	Those eyes!  Lucy had never seen such green eyes!
	His jet black hair was thick and he had this look upon him—fascinating.
	Captivating!
	Mesmerizing!
	It was rape.  It was kidnapping and rape and Lucy didn’t care.
	How many orgasms?  Two—three—four?  The rivers of cum leaking from her pussy caused her to tremble like never before.  The shuddering enveloped her body causing her to enter into a sheer freak out phase.  She wanted more.
	“Oh my God!” she blurted—“FUCK ME!” it was so out of character for her.
	The man smiled and pulled out of her soaked pussy; laying beside her he fingered it tweaking the engorged clit stimulating her into an agitated state of being.  That was when the boy came back and re-entered her and quickly got busy with the fucking.
	His dick was “ok” but his fucking efforts now paled compared to the man’s.
	Lucy would never be the same.

*

	Upon seeing someone playing a card game at a park:
	“Magic the Gathering, really?  My, you’re really letting your nerd flag aren’t you?” 
	“Actually it’s a GEEK flag; nerds are more academically inclined while geeks are super passionate about their hobbies.”
	“I see, and the people who know and care about the difference are…” 
	“I believe DORK is the approved nomenclature there.”

Horsing around
	The sound of a horse whinnying got her attention.  Not unusual but it sounded like a shriek and probably worth investigating.  She wasn’t prepared for what she saw.  A small piece of city life was anchored in the back of her mind; be wary!  In the country things like break-ins, thievery, assaults, hold-ups, robbery were virtually unheard of.  In the city—a daily occurrence.  A horse shrieking making noise alerted Sage to possible danger.
	No, no danger—just her step-daughter naked molesting her horse.
	No danger.
	At first she was shocked.  Her breath was taken and she was greatly alarmed.
	And what would her father say?
	Humph!  What would he DO was a better question.  He’d grab the camera and start videoing her!  Sage didn’t know what to think—or do.  She was fascinated by Misty’s actions—doings.  The young girl, buck naked, was masturbating her pony, Gronk
	Out in the country wilds the farm folk had peculiar doings with their farm animals.  She had only heard of such and never seen such or even really truly believed such vile acts could be.  There were news stories of a guy being caught repeatedly screw a female horse; women having sex with various farm animals—and that concept just boggled Sage’s mind.  Sex?  With farm animals?  Oh!
	Sage herself had at one time engaged immorally with a horse.  It was a dare with a drunk girlfriend who had engaged bestially with a goat.  The girls were in their mid teens and quite toasted on homemade wine.  But that was then.  Way back when—well, not so “way back” but back a few years just the same.
	Misty stroked Gronk’s schlong, hugged the horse then climbed aboard grinding her pussy against the animal.  She spanked herself and was having quite a time of it.  Sage found herself becoming very aroused and wondered how she would broach the situation with the young naughty girl.
	After a few minutes of “grinding” the girl not yet thirteen slid off her mount pressing her ass against the horse’s side then reaching between her legs taking holt of Gronk’s schlong.  She then proceeded to rub it against her ass seemingly trying to push the head into her asshole!
	Sage waited.
	Gronk got antsy and began prancing, whinnying, farting, and getting hard-hard-hard.  Misty, though, wasn’t at the right angle and needed another hand.  She did pretty good, though; working the stiff erection to her asshole.  Whether or not she was actually trying to sodomize herself was not clear.  She did, though, at length, turn about and pee—standing up!
	She giggled while doing so, rubbed (and spanked) herself before hugging her horse and kissing him right on the muzzle!
	“Hi there!” Sage said.  Of course her introduction startled Misty—and Gronk.  Misty’s eyes bulged and though it wasn’t the first time Sage had seen her naked, or doing something naughty, it WAS the first time Sage had seen her so with her horse.
	“Oh shit!” she blurted.
	“Relax,” said Sage walking slowly into the scene, “it’s cool.”
	Misty wasn’t sure she understood.
	“It is?”
	“Yep,” Sage smiled, “see, I like horses, too.” She let that sink in.
	Misty thought about—and wasn’t sure.
	“You mean—” she wasn’t sure.
	Sage came up to Gronk, patted his rump, then skillfully reached underneath taking his still erect penis and stroked it.
	Misty was stunned—but relieved.
	And to further shock and stun Misty, Sage dropped down taking Gronk’s cock and lovingly loving it—with her face!
	“Oh my God!” almost shrieked Misty.  She was giddy, too.  Sage reached out and placed her hand on the girl’s ass, rubbing it, squeezing, and while licking Gronk’s cock, “See, hon, WE can have all sorts of new fun, now.”
	And how!

Trix in the woods
	From his scouting days, ‘moss grows on the north side of the tree.’ That would help when you’re lost in the woods trying to pin down a direction.  Trouble was, in deep woods the moss was on ALL sides of the trees.  Big help there.  The landscape had hills, depressions, too many unnamed creeks, and no signs posted anywhere to help a fella out.
	“Well, fuck!” he bitched.
	When Cray realized that he was essentially “lost” retreating back to the campsites was an option—as well as was where he had left Jeanette (where the Farmer’s Market was close at hand.)  Then he had slipped off into the woods getting himself lost in mere minutes.
	Upon hearing a dog bark freaked him out a little; could be the local constabulary sending out their hounds seeking the trail of “whoever” escorted the young lady to the Market and dropped her off.
	But it was on bark and not too far off.
	Finding a small animal path he meandered this way and that coming up to a small woodsy hill he heard voices.  Girlie voices.  His curiosity was piqued.
	“Oh my God!  Oh my God!  Oh my God!” spoken in rapid succession.
	Then,
	“Oh my God!  Oh my God!  Oh my God!  It’s IN!”
	Cray’s curiosity was definitely piqued.
	Peeking over the hill and there was something of an old out building; an old weathered barn was off to one side—leaning heavily to one side, too.  An old fence, roses here, fragrant weeds there.  And over there by the barn were two teenage girls, naked, playing with a dog.
	The dog, a German Shepherd mix, was sexually engaged with one of the girls; the other was “helping.”  Cray was awed.  More than that.  And the girls, well, they were pretty decent looking gals—‘specially naked!  One was a brunette, the other reddish brown.  The brunette was getting dog boned.  Nice curves, clean, not overly tan all over as her friend was.  The “friend” was longer, tall, a little more meat to her thighs, and a shaven bush.  SHE was guiding the dog’s bone into the brunette’s pussy.  Both girl’s were about fifteen or sixteen.
	Turns out, they were fourteen.
	The brunette, Nellie Itchwell, was the daughter of a preacher, an only child, and just moved from the city to the town where it was deemed to be more safer as the city was getting rough—all those perverts about with EMADs and then all the riff-raff.  The other girl, Elaine, was the country girl dying to go to the city.  The German Shepherd, Ollie, drooled and panted as he got him some human pussy.
	Nellie moaned as she was dog-dicked.  Friggin’ her pussy and went into a little bit o’ frenzy as Ollie nutted up on her.  Elaine kept the knot from entering Nellie as that would be a bad thing—once a dog’s “knot” entered pussy there was a lock up lasting several minutes.  Several.
	Ollie fucked Nellie for several minutes anyways, pumping like the dog he was emptying his doggie cum DEEP into the human’s cunt.  Nellie was by no means a virgin but it WAS her first time with a dog.  It was not, however, Elaine’s first time.
	When Ollie finally pulled free there were streams of doggie cum as well as Nellie’s own juices flowing.  Elaine feverishly fingered her friend’s cunt while Ollie licked his own junk.  Nellie rolled over and her friend mounted her.  Had she had a dick she would have dicked.  But she didn’t, she had a cunt—and she began grinding it against Nellie’s cunt.  Cray was beside himself.  This was the most amazing thing ever!
	Then, Elaine dragged herself up Nellie’s body, pausing at her young tender smallish titties belonging to a girl of say thirteen or even twelve!  Nellie did not object and caressed her friend’s ass.  Elaine moved on up to plant her snatch onto Nellie’s face.  Nellie began flicking her tongue to Elaine’s cunt.
	“How do you like Ollie’s cum!?” giggled Elaine.
	“Mmmph-umph OOOOMPH!” she hadn’t realized that Elaine had planted her bald pussy onto her fresh fucked doggie fucked cunt heavily laden with his cum.  Elaine remained planted and Nellie gave in sucking and licking.
	Cray more than anything wanted to delve into the girls giving them a reason to live.  Human dick was better than doggie dick.  Wasn’t it?  He was about to utilize the EMAD when noises not so far away distracted him, the girls, and the dog.  The girls scrambled to get into their clothes while Ollie scrambled to go after (or greet) whatever had caused the distraction.
	The girls straightened themselves out and were disgruntled at the interruption.  So was Cray.  He was sure he could have intervened.  Then he was sure he could have had them lead him the hell out of the woods!
	Laying on his back he closed his eyes and drifted off to a light sleep.

Communing with Nature 1, 101, 101A, 1A
	Smoking those funny cigarettes; the scent of marijuana got Cray’s attention.  He awoke with a startle—and hated that.  Then he had to pee.  While whizzing on a spruce with his mind still on the girls and their doggie the air was scented with not hemlock, wild roses, mint, or stinkweed but marijuana.
	Five teens had amassed in the woods by a small creek.  The remains of a picnic table were in the campfire pit.  The barbeque stand was tilted to one side and not much of use save for the making of an impromptued lean-to using a tarpaulin.  Two of the teens were girls.  One was with super long super fine blond hair; the other girl—not so much.  She had a “butch” haircut and had it not been for her chest extensions she would easily pass for a boy.
	There was a radio on; alternate rock music.
	One of the teen boys was “pudgy”.
	One of the other teen boys was actually gay.
	The short-short haired girl liked boys—but really secretly liked—girls!
	One joint after another the teens smoked.
	The long blond haired girl passed out first.  Then one of the boys.
	The other girl, Nancy, took a swig from a whiskey bottle, then made way to the nearby creek dipping her bare feet in. She was moderately clothed; short jeans to the mid thigh, a sleeveless light blue tank top, and a kerchief about her head mostly positioned on top to keep bugs and leaves out of her jet black hair.
	Another giggled and hit the dirt.
	That left the pudgy boy.  He took a deep toke and sat with glazed eyes staring at Nancy.  From his backpack he pulled out a diet soda (and a sponge cake) and devoured them both before sauntering (staggering) over to the girl.  He didn’t invade her space or sit too close.  He didn’t remove his shoes before emerging them into the cold water.
	A moment came between them.  The air was re-sweetened by fragrant roses and lilac bushes; honeysuckle, wild catnip, wild herb geranium, and spruce trees.  The boy seemed nervous and thoughtful.  The girl held a smile by pursing her lips hard.  She was most likely still high.
	‘Take off your clothes.’
	Nancy shook her head, looked around, was curious, then cocked her head to her friend, “You say something?”
	Cray had to make an adjustment to his Device; a fine tuning.  Drunk people and people who were suffering (suffering?) from the effects of drugs affected the effects of the electronic device meant to affect.
	The boy, Ralph “Cookie” Dockswell shook his head and was alarmed.
	Then the boy was even more so (alarmed) when the girl (not of his dreams but a girl nevertheless) began undressing.  Ralph couldn’t breathe.  He wasn’t “fat” but he was “pudgy.”  Short sandy blond hair, chubby cheeks, a usually happy/jovial chap who got along with everybody—‘cept bullies.  But he had a good friend base and they kept him cool.
	Nancy stood up sliding down her short-shorts.
	Ralph’s eyes were glued to her actions.
	The girl wore a small bra; pinkish—the only article that determined her as a girl.  Her panties were “boy shorts.”  And down they came.  Young thirteen year old Ralph had never-ever seen a girl nude.  Never-ever.  Never.  Not even little girls.  Descriptions on the bathroom walls, health books, and even his imagination did not do service to the real thing.
	“Holt shit!” he exclaimed.
	The girl turned to face him and there she was—naked.
	Tits, pussy, tits, pussy.  Naked.
	Boing!
	Ralph’s cock seldom got hard—the taste of something rich and chocolaty usually did the trick; the scent of movie popcorn, soft sop on his dick, chocolate sauce on his dick, cococunt chocolate cake with peanut butter frosting—
	Chocolate sauce on his dick?
	Hey, don’t knock it until you try it.  Let me know how it goes…
	‘Take your clothes off, stupid!’
	Slowly, Ralph shucked his clothes—dropping them not on the bank of the creek but IN the creek itself where the swift waters took them away.  Ralph didn’t care—Nancy Woodswallow was naked!
	And when Ralph himself was naked, Nancy came closer to him taking a hold of his dick.  Ralph couldn’t breathe.  The girl slowly manipulated his dick, stroking it like she knew how.  And she did—apparently.

	Ralph was about to lose his mind.
	Nancy pulled and pulled on the boy’s penis; the boy pulled on his heart strings.  This was the most incredible thing ever!  Well, the second most—the first was the roller coaster ride at Six Flags.  No, the ice cream social at church—fifty varieties of ice cream and not a bad one in the bunch!  Of course, someone brought fruit to mix in with them.  Ewewew!
	‘Have you ever sucked a cock?’ the Voice asked.
	Nancy nodded.
	‘Good.  Suck his.’
	On her knees, in the water that was about two feet deep, the girl expertly rolled her tongue about the boy’s dong.  The thirteen year old girl had technique!  She slowly bobbed her head going down the average length pecker, clutched the boy’s nuggets and brought the boy to orgasm in two minutes.
	It wasn’t the girl’s first time tasting ooze, either.
	After rinsing her mouth out in creek water deer have pissed in and fish mate in, the girl laid out naked on the bankside clover; legs open; inviting.  Ralph stood with a raging boner still raging.  Bits of cum still oozed from his piss hole.  His eyes were glazed over and needed a little electronical encouraging.
	‘Go down on her, stupid!’
	The idea was not elusive to the lad, just the concept.
	Nancy fingered herself.  She was not so bad (especially naked!)
	Ralph required a little encouraging, some goading, some schooling.
	The boy finally his play and began licking Nancy’s cunt; even from Cray’s distance he could tell that the girl was not a virgin (a blind Indian guru on the highest temple could tell that she was no stranger to dick!)
	Nancy liked being licked.  Her nipples were hard and the girl was quite amazing to Cray.  At thirteen she was deemed to be “just right.”  Despite her “butch” appearance she was very pretty (especially naked!)  Ralph kind of thought she was ok, too.  He thought ALL girls were pretty.  However, ALL girls thought he was—fat, too funny to date, fat, fat, and fat.
	The boy was not fat—just pudgy.
	Having had his fill of licking Nancy’s pussy, fat boy Ralph mounted and wasted no time entering the girl.  He was no expert but for his First Time he did alright.  Natural instinct had a lot to do with that.  He began pumping and grunting; Nancy moaned, shuddered, and though she would not on her own engaged sexually with pudgy Ralph the making so was not so bad.
	Three minutes into the fuck and the boy was done.
	Nancy?  Not so much.  She wriggled as she basked in the sun on the clover laden bank; Ralph had rolled off her and sat waist deep in the creek with a glazed glassy look etched upon his sweet boyish pudgy face.  Cray then took his turn.
What’s a little communing among friends?  (or relatives)
	You would think that with “Christian” as a part of your name that person would be a little more—Christian.  Not so with Christian Bryan Nohayway.  He was a farmer, local; a stern looking man even when he was joking, smiling, smirking.  At 40yrs young he was graying at the temples but still had a rich thick head of coal black hair.  He stood just under 2meters tall—when he was standing.  Laying down and the man seemed a little longer…
	Campsites were scattered all throughout the woods Cray traipsed thru.  Some were equipped with tables, campfire pits, and barbeques.  Some had less and others had just a clearing for a tent and the rest was on your own.  Holding hands with his young ten year old blond haired daughter, Christian Nohayway slipped thru the woods to the campsite designated “Beaver Creek Site #12”.
	There was a campfire pit—nothing else.
	Beaver Creek flowed freely nearby; trees of various types were all about, bushes and shrubs, too.  The air was sweet with pleasant smells and with no one apparently about to see them—
	Christian spread out a blanket, put down the small ice chest, then on his knees he hugged his little girl.  She was ten, long blond hair clear to her butt!  Green eyes—just like her daddy’s; not much of a body form but she did have a nice butt.
	After a generous hug there was a kiss peck and the stern looking daddy lifted off his child’s shirt.  There was a tank top that also performed as a trainer.  Christian hugged his daughter again; she was all smiles and giggles.  There was the infamous Tickle Monster attack and then the girl was lain down on the blanket—her short pinkish britches removed.
	Followed by her pink panties.
	The girl was still all giggles and the spying Cray wasn’t sure if she was on drugs, electronically infiltrated, or this was a normal happenstance.  Christian had lost his sternness and was smiling, laughing, and earnestly tickling his naked child.
	The tickling turned to fingering and the fingering turned to licking.
	The girl, Kayleen, giggled and thrashed about as her daddy tongued her vagina.  A finger went into her asshole while his thumb (and tongue) massaged her pussy.  Kayleen made exclamations like “Oooooh, Daddy, I like that!” and “Ooooh, Daddy, do it again!”
	Soon and Christian “Oooooh Daddy” sat up and removed his own shirt.  He was semi muscular, lean, hairless.  Off came his boots and then his pants and underwear.  His manhood was hard-hard-hard and the object of his daughter’s attention.  She played with her daddy’s dick, masturbating him and seemingly on her own will.
	Neat!
	And from “playing” with her daddy’s dick to sucking it.
	She did!
	And most all of it, too!
	And daddy was so pleased!
	Throwing his back he contorted oddly as his little girl engulfed the tool that created her.  With a steady hand to the back of her head he moved her as much as he moved himself.  And Cray was “moved” too.  It was stunning to see the two in action.  And soon the two were in a 69er!  Right there on the blanket, after the tremendous blowjob escapade, the two lay in the 69 position with daddy Christian in full glory.  His hands were clamped to his daughter’s thighs with his face buried between her legs.  The little darling sucked his big average sized dick and did a fine job of it, too.
	Christian smacked Kayleen’s ass, pried the cheeks open and devoured her young hairless cunny whole.  The girl squealed and wriggled about squashing her poon onto her daddy’s face invigorating him to a frenzy.  He munch to his heart’s content.
	Then,
	Rolled his naked offspring over, switched her to whereas his bone rested against her slobbered on cunt.  He then began engaging in the ultimate sin; incest.  It was not enough that she sucked him and he sucked her; not enough that they were naked together; not enough that he fingered her pussy—there was more.
	Gouging the head of his cum squirter against her slit and their relationship booned to the moon.  The little girl giggled, tossed herself back and forth, and her little face just shined!
	Her little face took on a little more character as her daddy’s medium sized schlong penetrated her.  For a moment there was almost sheer terror; she gasped and appeared to be greatly concerned.  Christian pulled out and humped the girl’s pussy which eased her concerns.  Then he made another attempt at entry.
	With each attempt (and there were five of them) there was progress.
	Whether or not it was the girl’s first time getting poked so by her daddy wasn’t clear.  What WAS clear was that she was somewhat skittish about the non-Christian deed.  Her daddy went into her with slow steady progress; pulling out after a couple of pumps then pushing back in.  Finally the full progress of pumping without pulling all the way out began.  Kayleen gripped the blanket, arched her back, thrashed this way and that, and made “oooohing” sounds.
	Cray wished he had his camera.
	A few minutes later and Christian daddy Christian cemented his incestuous relationship with his daughter.  A mighty thrust and he was cumming.  His naked ass muscles flexed in the noonday sun; locking his arms so as not to crush his child he pumped his hips fully penetrating his love tool to her love canal.
	When done, the naughty oh-so naughty man seemed apologetic and held his child almost crying.  They kissed—a lip lock that was also deemed incestuous.  The girl hugged her daddy and gobs of his cum leaked from her pussy.  Awww.

 It’s not always in the woods
	Finally!  Civilization!  There were homes; ok, trailers—redneck trailers, but they were “homes” nevertheless.  Rednecks barbequing pig, redneck children running amok naked, a long dark haired redneck taking an ATV up a ramp into a tree yelling “HEY! Y’ALL, WATCH THIS!” and with a beer in one hand, wearing a beer hat, and not much else, guns the ATV out of the tree into a kiddie pool.
	Cray made a wide circle from these folks.
	There was Round-the-Mountain road and from there, once he got his bearings making tracks back to Farmer’s Market would be easy.  Yay-yay so you say.  Ducking back into the woods to avoid the trailer park setting and he was once more slightly kinda-sorta lost.  He was able to keep the redneck trailer park in hearing distance and that helped—kinda-sorta.
	Regular type houses came up; built back in the 30s, 40s, and 50s.
	One house was “under construction”; two story home, big front yard, orchard back yard.  It looked out of place compared to the other already established homes.  Another house next to that one was “under deconstruction.”  It was friggin’ old as hell!  Badly deteriorating, leaning, unsalvageable.  And regardless of the posted signs “KEEP OUT” and “KEEP THE FUCK OUT” two kids were seen slipping inside.  They caught Cray’s attention—‘specially since one of the kids was a girl—a girl in a short skirt!
	 The boy, Donald James (DJ) was exactly six months away from being an official teenager.  Short sandy brown hair, blue eyes, a little wiry, extremely active.  The girl, Penny, was five months from being an official teenager.  She was equally active but held back by her parents who wanted her to be an academic achiever rather than a beaver.  Think about it…
	But when out of sight of parental units—
	Penny was new to the country town, there was a private school nearby that she was a part of; she had yet to make a lot of friends—or suitable friends according to her parents.  Then she met Donald James.  He was way different than boys she knew in the city—he was charming!  He was friendly without some ulterior motive behind his smile and wanting to be her friend.  He was carefree and at one time he had also been a “city boy.”  In the country he excelled—there was sooooo much to do!  Exploring was his daily chore.
	Getting into trouble came second.
	It didn’t take too much to get the girl to come along with him exploring the old house that was going to be demolished the coming week.
	“Come on,” he said with a boyish charming smile, “it’ll be fun!”
	Famous last words.
	The girl was concerned, and voiced them,
	“It says KEEP OUT.”
	“And “KEEP THE FUCK OUT!” too.” He chortled, “Adults are always saying that stuff to keep the fun stuff to themselves.” Hmmm, true point.
	The girl had to think about that one.  The boy continued to egg her on and for no other reason than “just because” she followed.
	Penny wore an outfit of an off-white blouse with a skirt outfit with suspender straps.  Long knee socks and simple tennis shoes.  Brown hair that shined in the light; twin pig tails with some simple adornments; freckles, a serious face, and just beginning breasts—none of which DJ particularly seemed interested in.  He offered to let the girl climb in thru the window on the side of the house but she declined—“Y-you go first.” She said out of some concern.
	No one was living in the house, it leaned a little to one side, some doors and windows were boarded up; it was well-well weathered and to as why it was being demolished was not known—not to the kids anyways.  And not that it would matter—but the house was supposedly haunted!  Reportedly, an old man went bat shit crazy and slew his family many years before.  Some were poisoned, some were hacked in their beds, some were found in the basement—in pieces.
	Neat!
	DJ crawled thru a first floor unboarded window and offered a hand to pull/drag Penny in.  This action got Cray a view of the girl cocking her leg revealing her crisp snug fitting white panties.  He had no choice but to follow.
	Armed with flashlights the kids roamed the house.  They found the kitchen where two of the family members had been found death by rat poison.  The house was musty smelling and the unmistakable aroma of “death” lingered in the lifeless air.  Still, though, the kids, though skittish, continued to explore.
	“Upstairs?” said DJ, “Or (better yet) the BASEMENT!?”  All horror movies had the central activity located solely in the basement.
	Penny was about to say something when Cray’s footsteps stepped on a creaking floorboard.  The kids went deathly still.
	“We’re not alone.” said DJ.
	“No shit.” blurted Penny.  It was uncharacteristic of the young girl to curse; she knew the words but was a better person not using them.
	Switching off their flashlights they stood shoulder to shoulder—waiting.
	Hearing no other sounds, though, the kids relaxed.
	Too much—DJ farted.
	“Nice.” Penny sarcastically said.
	“Sorry, when I get scared—it happens.”
	“Do you get scared often?” Penny wanted to know—for future reference.
	“No.”
	“Good to know.”
	With a sigh the kids held hands, switch on their flashlights and once more began exploring.  From the kitchen they merged into the dinning room.  It was equally creepy, dank, musty, and not worth spending much time in.  Huge creepy portraits of family heads (not actually “heads”) were along the walls; huge towers China cabinets were some family members were found stuffed inside occupied space along one wall.  A door led the explorers out to a sitting room.
	Cray stepped on another creaking floorboard and released a pesky fart himself.
	“Do ghosts fart?” Penny asked suspiciously.
	“No, I-I don’t think so.”
	“I didn’t think so.” And the two raced blindly seeking a way out.

	The portrait of Jonathon Smoltheehard stared at him—right after banging his knee on the end table in the hall.  Something rattled in the nightstand—a flashlight!  How handy!  How nice a find.  How a coincidence!
	The portrait of Jonathon Smoltheehard had eyes that SEEMED to move.
	This frightened the injured Cray; he stumbled backward touching the coatrack that had a hat and a coat—both of which toppled falling onto Cray.  Cray freaked the fuck out—screamed a girlish screamed, pissed himself, and crashed back into the nightstand.

	Donald James was in panic mode; Penny was not too far behind.
	“Jesus H Fucking Christ in a hat!” blurted the boy.
	“Amen.” quipped Penny.  “I didn’t know ghost could be so noisy.”
	Pressed hard against a questionable wall the kids breathed hard.  They had no idea where they were but they knew where they wanted to be.
	“We’re still on the first floor,” DJ said, “I think—I think if we just follow a wall we should find our way out.”
	Penny was in agreement with that.
	Holding hands they slinked along the wall but had to move out into the hall when encountering furniture.  When coming to doors they paused, closed doors was no good—some were apparently locked or stuck.  They found a bathroom where bat shit crazy Jonathon drowned his wife and then slit her throat in the bathtub.  The kids moved on.
	A double open door led them into a large room deemed a family room or living room.  All windows were boarded up with just bits of light streaming thru.  The room was horribly musty; the air lifeless.
	Lots of portraits were on the walls; family mostly but some art.
	Just as the kids stepped out to about the middle of the creepy family room—
	CRASH!
	From another room (close by) a horrendously noisy ghost made its presence known.  Penny shrieked and DJ grabbed her to hold her tight—he was frightened too.  That’s when the floor gave way.
	“Jesus Fucking Christ—” Penny said as she fell.

	Limping into the kitchen and Cray re-thought his plan.
	What plan?
	The pain in his knees negated his “plan.”
	There was no water; no ice in the fridge, nothing to ease the pain in his possibly shattered knee.  The house was not haunted—it was just dangerous.  The flashlight he had was minimal at best.  The batteries within way old.  He thought of finding that window and crawling out and going the fuck home—then heard the crash.
	“What the fuck now?” he bitched.
	In an adjacent room he found a large hole in the floor.
	Down below in the next floor lay the two kids.
	Shit, not good.

	Dust and other associative debris filtered the air choking him.  Grit aplenty were in his eyes, mouth, and nose.  Then everywhere else.  He could barely move and hardly think.  His flashlight was on and after a minute or so he got his wits about him,
	“Penny?” he called.
	He knew rubbing his eyes with grit still in them was a bad idea but it couldn’t be helped.  Coughing and sputtering, sneezing, and dizzy from the sudden unexpected fall he searched for the girl he had just met.
	He found her—in a curiously precarious position:  on her back, legs up along a support post.  The position revealed her crisp white panties—the sudden object of his attention.
	“Penny?” he called, “Y-you alright?”
	That would be No.
	She was unconscious.
	DJ stared at her and noted that she WAS at least breathing.  That was good.
	He shook her.  No response.  He shook her again with his hand “accidentally” brushing against her left breast.
	No response.
	That was also good.
	Slowly—slowly—slowly and did DJ move the girl’s legs down.
	Then, holding his breath, hook a finger inside the crotch of her crisp white panties.  Dust particles drifted in his vision still choking him.  If she should wake up he was a certified dead man.  The girl herself would go bat shit crazy on him.
	But encouraged by his inner voice he pulled the panties down; down-down-down.  All the way to her knees.  Then he moved her skirt up more whereas he could get a good looksee at her goodie box.
	How to describe a girl’s goodie box?
	He couldn’t.  It was alluring to be sure; soft and acceptable, a light covering of pubes, a perfectly formed place of great interest.  In the 19th century the term “pussy” came to refer to anything soft and furry (pussy willow and pussycat for example.)  Since a woman’s vulva is typically soft and furry the term spread (unlike many thighs) rapidly.  Later, someone noticed the hairy patch resembled a beaver’s tail (and thus the term “beaver” came about to describe the same thing.)
	It is said that Glaucon, the older brother of Plato, once quipped 
	“The vagina is a place where all men come from and spend their lives to get back in to.”  So true.
	With a big sigh, and Penny still unconscious, DJ slipped the girl’s panties completely off.  His eyes were still on her pussy—he was taking it fully into his mind.  Holding her panties kind of thrilled him, too.  The girl still breathed and gave no sign of being in the know about what DJ was doing.
	‘Spread her legs, boy.’ The Voice encouraged.
	DJ was out of his mind.  Cocking his head he opened Penny’s legs.
	His cock demanded attention.  Only recently, and very recently, had he paid much attention to it.  More attention was spent on his balls—a wayward volleyball had just about did him in the month prior; falling from a tree limb onto a lowe tree limb seriously squished his boys; and a hazard there, a mishap here and his testicles were in peril far too often.  A soothing bath helped but mostly he handled his injured twins wondering why they were on the outside of his body in the first place.
	‘Take your clothes off.’
	Seemed like a good idea.
	Dust was stirred up all the more as DJ stripped off all of his clothes.
	Jenny remained unconscious giving thought that perhaps she needed medical attention?  Perhaps.  But first!
	‘Finger it!’
	Young DJ was kind of clueless concerning the wily ways of “fingering” a girl’s cunny.  He did put his fingers to the girl’s delicate flower—just to explore.  His cock was hard-hard-hardest.  Penny made no moves or any other indications that she was “aware.”  Which was a good thing ‘cause—
	‘Get on her.’
	Enough of the foreplay.
	DJ had some clue about “sex” but it was limited and not essential to his daily life.  Playing baseball, football, and soccer were his daily duties.  Taking out the garbage, keeping the garage clean, not being brought home by the cops…
	But the actuality of “sex” or “having sex” was mysterious to him.
	Still, with a little encouraging from his inner voice and he was grooving (in Penny’s groove.)  He pushed in and immediately shuddered all over.  The feeling was 100 times more than he could imagine.  And he could imagine quiet a lot!  Busting Penny’s hymen was no trouble and there was very little “evidence” coating his schlong as a result.  He moved in and the pumping began.  A little awkward in his progress but it was still deemed a “fuck” regardless.

	When all was said and done—all was said and done (with nothing being said but “Jesus H Fucking Christ in a hat!”)  Having had sex for the first time and Donald James knew that he wanted to do that again and again and again and again.
	And probably again.
	And even after withdrawing from Penny’s very pleasing cunt his young pud was still mightily hard.  When he pulled out a great squirt blasted hotly from his pisser thoroughly coating the still unconscious girl’s pussy.  It was the most amazing thing ever!  His entire body was on a tingling fire.  His mind was abuzz with sensations he thought never possible.
	So he did the girl again.
	He went at his task with the forethought of trying to go at (sex) slowly.
	That lasted about a minute.
	As the “good feeling” returned the instinctive urge to pump vigorously prompted him to do so.  DJ gave great thrustings to his doings finding yet another level of sexual euphoria.  The boy then lay on his back, sweating, heaving, and reeling.   There was no way Cray could make his way safely to the girl.  A new plan had to be sought.
	That plan involved cleaning the girl up.  Using his own underwear, DJ wiped Penny’s nicely fucked cunt.  His cock still reeled and sizzled and he had thoughts of his own to “do her” some more.  But it was then that the girl began to moan.  She also peed.  Just as DJ snugged up her panties—she peed.  DJ’s own underwear was soiled from his own peeing—he discarded the undies and dressed himself then quickly laid down pulling debris onto him.
	Penny moaned, groaned, then woke up.
	She freaked out a little in a panic—then found the flashlight and then found DJ.
	“Oh my God!” she screeched and scrambled to his near lifeless body.
	Her head hurt terribly, there was no blood but there was one hell of a bump.
	DJ did stir no matter how much so shook him.  then,
	‘Take his pants down.’
	“What?”
	‘Pants, take them down—check him for injuries.’
	Penny hesitated but then complied.
	Hmmm
	The girl was a little more than surprised when she tugged the boy’s pants down and found him underwereless.
	“What the—”
	Gulping for air (and clarity) she sat on her knees slowly finding that she may have an injury to herself herself.  Flashing the light to DJ’s eyes and he didn’t react she awkwardly “checked” herself—her sex.  She couldn’t make much of a determination but fingered herself and then,
	‘Take his pants off.’
	Penny breathed and sat on her butt, legs open, panties off.  She had fingered herself and found her pussy to be a little sore.  There was a lingering tingling sensation there but she was easily convinced that it was due to the tremendous fall.  She was lucky she had broken anything.
	‘Check your friend—his legs, his testicles, his penis.’
	Penny was in a stupor.  She was accepting Cray’s invasion but the follow-thru was not so much.  Cobwebs from the fall and the whole “in the creepy house” and her own stalwart conscious the problem there.
	‘Take his pants off.’ the Voice repeated slowly but with more umph.
	Penny nodded and slipped off DJ’s shoes and then his pants.
	‘Have you seen a boy naked before?’
	She nodded—little boys, boys a couple years younger than herself peeing in the woods when she was at summer camp the previous year.
	‘Play with his dick.’
	Penny held fast.  No way—no how.
	‘He’s unconscious—do it!’
	Startled by the gruffness of her inner voice and the usually forthwright “good girl” put her fingers about the boy’s penis.  It was no big deal, really.  The air was already stifling and with each passing minute it got worse.  Penny worked DJ’s cock totally mesmerized by her doings.
	‘Mount him.’
	Penny was stunned.  No way—no how.
	But the Voice inside her insisted.
	Penny resisted.
	‘DO IT!’
	Rubbing her virtually hairless pussy against DJs cock was—wow.
	Unlike DJ, Penny had a much more clearer idea about sex.  Not about sex acts but the act of sex itself—and where babies truly came from.  She vaguely, though, had the concept of HOW those babies got there to begin with.
	“It takes a Mommy and a Daddy—” her parents had told her when she was eight.  And once she had walked in on them at five in the morning when her parents were “doing it” and they explained to her that they were creating another baby for the family.
	It takes a Mommy and a Daddy; not two men, not two women.  A Mommy and a Daddy—period.
	Penny grinded her pussy against DJs cock—grind-grind-grind.  She began to find a sexual budding seething within her.  Her breasts tingled and she was just about to take DJ’s cock and slid it up into her like a tampon when the house began to creak and moan.  Badly.
	Voices, too, could be heard.
	People!
	Time to wrap this up—
	‘Abort!’ Damned interruptions.

*

	Across the street—er, road, and down a few houses, Donald James’ house was there on the corner.  A huge elm in the front yard, more elms in the backyard.  A yellow house with green trim, two stories, two fireplaces, detached garage, no pool, big-big big assed elm trees.
	As evening type time was coming to be—that being approximately 4PM, a slightly delirious DJ and a very grungy Penny made their way in.
	“I am in SOOOOOOO much trouble!” Penny declared.  Her usually very neat and CLEAN clothes were dirty, grimy, grungy and repeat.  She was in panic mode.
	“We could clean them here.” offered DJ.  His smile was incredible, his devil-may-care attitude made Penny’s panic mode a little less.  He led her to the laundry room—no parental units were home and not due home for two more hours.  Plenty of time.
	Penny, giving little thought to the fact that DJ stood right there slipped off her suspender straps and let her skirt fall.  DJ neverminded and set the washer up for a half load; added the soup powder then turned and watched as Penny stood in her panties and bra.
	The girl gulped and panic mode once more encroached.

	Then, in the next moment she sighed and shucked her panties.
	Just like that.
	Off came her blouse and bra and she was stark naked.
	BOING!
	For a moment and DJ was dazed looking mostly thru the girl and not at her.
	Then—then he noticed her.  She stood with her hands shielding her poon.  DJ could still see her breasts—they were small but not impish; they were delightfully just right (for a twelve year old.)  Those pig tails, her wavering smile, those eyes!
	And she was butt naked standing in his laundry room!
	“Aren’t you going to wash yours?” she asked innocently.
	“W-what?” he asked getting caught off-guard.
	“You’re clothes, aren’t they dirty, too?”
	DJ looked at his filthy clothes, smirked a smile and began (almost hurriedly) shucking his clothes.  He stumbled and Penny caught him.
	“No more falling!” she warned.
	She was naked!  Never in his life would he imagined that a girl would be in his house—in his laundry room----naked!  It was the most unbelievable thing ever!  Well, except for when he was boning her in that haunted house…
	“This will take awhile,” DJ said, “wanna see my room?”
	“Sure,” she said with a still wavering smile, “why not?”
	They stopped in the kitchen fetching bottles of root beer then headed up the stairs to his room.
	“This is kinda cool.” chirped Penny.
	“What is?”
	“Going naked—in the house!”
	It was kinda cool—Penny felt freer than ever; she knew it was kinda-sorta wrong, illicit, possibly immoral to go willy-nilly about without even her knickers on AND to do so with a boy (who was also equally naked) but it was still cool!
	In his room—kind of a mess; clothes and sports equipment lay scattered everywhere.  It wasn’t cluttered—just messy.  He had a fish tank with goldfish, a non-traditional bunk bed whereas the bottom bed was angled outward and a bit larger than a normal twin size, posters of mountains, volcanoes, tropical places adorned the walls, and his favorite color seemed to be blue.
	“Nice.” said Penny, “could use a little clean-up, though.”
	It was so odd to be naked; just prancing around together—NAKED!
	And DJ had a serious ever non-stopping hard-on.
	“Do ghosts fart?” he chuckled recalling their recent experience.
	“That was wild.” retorted Penny.
	The two then came together—er, stood before each other.
	She had amazing eyes.
	He had an amazing smile.
	She had girlish appeal.
	He had boyish charm.
	She had smallish breasts; palmsized.
	He had a boner.
	“When will your parents be home?” she asked casually.
	“Another hour and a half.” 
	“Good.” And she reached out taking hold of his penis—again.

	A stroke here—a stroke there and Donald James was all hers.  She could do anything to him and he was putty—so long as she kept stroking his dick.  She had a loving touch and seemed mesmerized by her doing.
	“If my Mom knew what I was doing!” she scoffed.
	DJ chuckled, “Yeah, I-I think my Mom would freak out, too.”
	Slowly and Penny moved to her knees coming eye-to-eye with DJ’s one-eyed monster.  For twelve, DJ had a decent dick a little more than average size for boys in his age group.  She stroked it and stroked it and it got harder and hotter.
	Then she kissed it.
	DJ’s cock surged and then she was putting her lips to the head engulfing it.
	DJ was going catatonic.
	With slow precise precision the girl expertly went down on the boy’s cock.
	With slow precise precision the boy went into equilateral orbit.
	A blowjob had nothing on masturbation.
	Penny went down part way and had to deal with a gag reflex.  Bit of sperm was exploding from DJ’s cock—another uncontrollable reflex.  Still, though, the girl continued to bob her head back and forth taking almost all of DJ’s dong.  Then she pulled free and DJ’s cock squirted a little spunk onto her chin.
	“Now what?” she asked just because.
	‘Go lay down on the bed,’ cooed the Voice, ‘spread your legs.’
	Penny slowly rose up and noted the glazed look in DJ’s eyes.  She smiled, she had him—she had him.  Suck a boy’s dick and you’ve got him.  Swigging the root beer she walked nakedly to his bed that had a plush toy blue monkey on it wearing blue short pants clutching a blue banana.  She was amused and noted the blue snake tacked to the wall above the bed; the blue whale—well, that was normal, and a dozen other “blue” animals of the forest and sea (birds, crabs, elephants, etc.)
	Sitting on the bed she leaned back spreading her legs.
	‘Go to her, stupid!’
	The naked boy who had just had his cock slobbered on by a naked girl in his room slowly turned.  He was totally in orbit.  Making his way to her and his focus was on her face; then her slowly developing breasts, then her cunny.  The wow factor was exceeding all limitations.
	“Jesus H Christ—” he blurted and stammered.
	“In a hat!” Penny finished for him.
	He smiled and Penny gushed.  Her cunny tingled and the realization that she was actually NAKED with a boy who was also NAKED ravaged her moral mind.  She had actually handled his penis.  She had SUCKED his penis.  She was NAKED IN HIS ROOM!
	Yep, it was a dream.
	It had to be.
	If her Mom saw her—she would flip.
	A little panic began to consume the young girl—but a glance to DJ and she swooned.  For twelve, he wasn’t too dorky like most boys she knew.  She went to an all-girls private school academy and somewhat missed attending school with boys.  But academically she was better off.  Socially, though, not so much.
	DJ went to HIS knees placing his head between her legs.  When he flicked his tongue to her trembling cunny she couldn’t help but squeal.  She clenched involuntarily and felt like she was peeing.  But she wasn’t.  DJ flicked his tongue to her delight and dashed out of orbit into space.
	There was the hint of saltiness, mustiness, muskiness, and pee to deal with.
	But young DJ was so bombastically bombed by the whole ordeal that those pesky things did not intrude upon his pleasure.  Taking lessons from the Voice the boy licked happily, nipped the sides of Penny’s entrance, drove his tongue inside, and engulfed the whole of her twat.
	Penny was soaring to lofty heights herself.  She was not even into fingering herself yet!  DJ’s talented tongue was sending incredible feelings she had never before felt.  It was just like having a real good pee!
	After much cunnilingus the boy moved up and introduced his throbbing hard boner to the girl’s slicked up snatch.  Dragging it up and down the entrance also drove the girl crazy—did a little of that to DJ, too.  A little push in and the super hard erection delightfully delighted both girl and boy.  He was cumming off and not even all the way in!
	The pumping action began and that was all there was to it.  Penny clung to her errant lover, grabbing his arms, backside, back of the neck, all over as he feverently fucked her.
	“Oh God!  Oh God!  Oh God fucking damn!” she blurted—also uncharacteristic of her to blurt.
	DJ smiled and concentrated on getting his nut.
	The event was so traumatic for DJ that once he did his business and it came to a satisfying—very satisfying—end, he slumped to the floor exhausted and in orbit around Mars.  Penny lay in a frump, glassy eyed and heart beating out of her chest.  DJ’s cum oozed out of her pussy and the Voice—aka Cray Hurricane, took advantage.  His cock, too, was mightily hard and into Jenny’s twelve year old cunt it went.
	Like DJ, Cray’s cock was cumming as it went in.  Boning his wife was one thing, sticking it to a twelve year old girl was more.  Much more.  The sensations were sensational!  Cupping her sweet butt he moved his cock into the girl enjoying the ride.  Her face glowed.  He would have liked her to have more in the titty department but that was ok, she had enough and when he had fucked her fully for three minutes he mounted her chested laying his cock between the smallish mounds fucking off there.  He also brought her head up to “kiss” his cock as well as suck it.
	Then, to see how deeply the EMAD had a holt of her mind he rolled the hapless girl over and proceeded to spank her.  He seriously got off on that.  Laying his hand to her tender flesh thrilled him—and would thrill him more had she been more aware.  He realized that that was thing—power.  Empowerment.  To see one’s Victim suffering, to see her wiggling, crying, begging—that was the power a man sought.
	When Penny’s ass flesh was searing red he began fingering her asshole.
	DJ remained on the floor delirious.
	Rising the girl’s hips up and Cray tongued out her asshole, smacked her cheeks some more, inserted his finger into the very virgin hole then inserted his cock.  The bed bounced and the sweat drenched him.  The girl’s asshole was way tight and thusly way pleasing.  It took a little bit o’ doing to get the whole thang (his dick) into the virgin territory—by then he was close to passing out.
	‘Go take a shower,’ he electronically mind to the girl, ‘take him with you.’
	Cray was exhausted.  He drank up DJ’s root beer then sat on the bed while the kids showered.  Then, seeing the telephone he called home.
	“Uh, got a little lost returning the girl,” he said pleading his case, “then got a little sidetracked, then lost again, but I know where I am now and on my way home.”
	“No hurry,” replied his wife, “Misty and I are bonding.” And how!
	Cray was cool with that and hung up.  He wondered—“bonding?”  hmmm
	In the shower and the two kids were “bonding” as well; embracing one another and deeply/passionately kissing.  They had lathered up one another—then got horny and instead of fucking they hugged one another and that led to embracing and that led to kissing.

	And that led to shoving his fuck stick all lathered up up Penny’s ass.
	She wasn’t too much into that route but it was pleasing to the boy so whatever.  She fingered herself while she was doinked badonkaboink.  When done, they embraced again and more kissing followed.
	Then,
	“I gotta pee!” announced Penny.
	DJ chuckled with a smirking smile, “So go ahead.”
	No, it was not the first time Penny Slappappy had peed in the shower, but it WAS the first time to do so with a boy (present.)  Closing her eyes she proceeded to pee.  DJ watched her in some amazement as he had never seen a girl pee before—let alone be naked with one in his own shower!
	After she peed, DJ tried to pee also but his boner prevented that.
	They rinsed off and exited the shower.  Time was getting short on them; DJ’s parental units would soon be home.  There was still time, though—for more hanky and a lot of panky.