August Moone
Book 9
Chapter 30
And the Saga Continues
An Act of Vile II

Sticks and stones may break my bones—but whips and chains excite me!
Verses of snipits 

The first verse
	On a lone stretch of desert road between two medium sized desert towns a medium sized car pulled off the road.  Reason?
	“Daddy!  I gotta go!”
	In the backseat were three young girls, in the front passenger seat a young boy.  The youngest girl “had to go”—and of course when one goes the rest follow.  There were no substantial trees or even bushes where the daddy, Don Lowrock, pulled over.  But when Nature calls the importance of privacy takes a backseat—so to speak.
	Six year old Megan clambered over the knees of her siblings in a rush to get out before she wet herself.  She was already, however, in the process.  Wearing light blue short-shorts the evidence was revealing.  Daddy Don quickly shucked the blue shorts and basic white kiddie panties.  Megan spread her legs and commenced to peeing.
	Oh!  What relief!
	She tooted, too!
	The remaining family inside watched with blank expressions.
	Then they locked eyes with their dad.
	He gave no expression himself but nodded his head and one by one the Lowrock family filed out.  And, one by one, the Lowrock family stripped off their clothes.  After little Megan had finished her pee, Don scooped her up, held her in such a way as she was “open” to her brother and sister.  Big deal, she was the youngest, they were her siblings—it was a natural to see her butt bare assed naked.
	Don then laid Megan out on the backseat; then lowered his pants and underwear.  Standing he faced his children—with a raging hard-on all eyes were on.
	“If you gotta pee, now’s the time to do it.”
	One by one the children stripped off their clothes.
	Twelve year old Scott had a slight hard-on; he turned to one side and commenced to peeing.  Ten year old Nellie and eight year old Lisa spread their legs and began peeing where they stood.  All three standing children had stoic faces; plain, unemotional, blank staring (i.e. mindless.)
	After the gang peeing, Don returned his attention to his youngest child.  After a quick look up and down the lone stretch of two-lane highway he moved to lay on top of the girl gliding his daddy cock up and down her little slit.  The feeling transmuted into a wondrous sin-sation ten times more potent than any drug.
	No penetration—not yet.  She was too young.  But close counts; Don humped the child’s slit soiling it moments thereafter.  The release was glorious—glorious, Centurion!  Glorious!  And with the mess of soilage coating the girl’s young quim it did make way for her dear daddy to in earnest poke his prong into her sex.
	Just then,
	“Dad, a truck’s coming.”
	Don sat up squirting a little more cum onto Megan’s cunt.
	Coming along the road was a cattle truck.  By its speed it wasn’t going to slow or stop to see if the car alongside the lone stretch of highway was disabled.  The naked kids moved in closer to the car somewhat shielding their nakedness and the big noisy speeding truck zoomed on by.
	Don, still reeling from his naughty deed with his youngest looked over the others.  Heaving, sweating, he eyed Lisa and Nellie.  Scott stood with a raging hard-on methodically playing with himself.  Locking eyes with Nellie,	\
	“Lay down.”
	The ten year old settled inside the car on the passenger seat; it was a single seat but comfy enough—sort of.  After laying down (and parting her legs) brother Scott took up the charge (after getting the nod from his father.)  On his knees, on his cast off clothes, he put his mouth to his sister’s hairless pussy and began noshing.  Meanwhile,
	Megan was moved a little out of the way and Lisa was laid down in the backseat.  Don looked her lovely naked body over; he smiled, he lusted, and grew more and more enthused about his misdoings.  Scott had had his fill of licking out his sister and mounted her.  Don looked over the front seat to watch his son fuck.  Nellie squirmed—it wasn’t the first time she had taken dick from her brother but the position of laying across the console was a bit uncomfortable.
	Lisa, too, was too young to accept her daddy’s big dick so he merely rub it up and down expelling another heaping helping of spunk.  Once more he gouged his way into the girl’s sex.  Lisa had also taken her brother’s dick—soon and Megan would be also.

	Scott pumped his sister—pumped his sister—pumped his sister and finally blasted his own spunk.
	“Son-of-a-bitch!” he bellowed.  Heaving, sweating, cumming, the young boy gulped for air and reeled heavily in the deed that he had done.  Departing from his sibling he grabbed a soda from the ice chest and watched as dribbles of his cum leaked from his cock.  Nellie sat up, she looked confused.  Fingering her pussy she accepted her father’s command “grab yourself a soda.”
	Lisa and Megan also had sodas; a bit of a cooling breeze came and in the distance across the flat desert at the low hills there were clouds forming.  It was still mighty hot out.  Don sat on the backseat and hugged each of his children; a butt rub, a fingering of their sex, and then a blowjob from the each of them—Scott included.  Afterward they dressed and resumed their trek across the desert.

*
What Sex Ed in school left out
	“What are they doing?”
	Lonnie looked to his friend, ‘you gotta be kidding?’
	“You gotta be kidding.”
	“I KNOW what they’re doing,” smirked Lisa, “but what are they doing?”
	Lonnie still didn’t quite get it.
	“I mean, I-I know how it’s done—but I didn’t know you could do THAT!”
	And “THAT” was teenagers Greg Haythatsminame and girlfriend, Marsha Legslittlelong, fucking.  Out and out bold and brash fucking.  Naked; in the woods, with Marsha ON TOP!  And not only was she ON TOP she was SPINNING!  Greg’s seventeen year old penis was up inside Marsha sixteen year old vagina—and she was turning around on it.
	Neither spying eleven year olds had ever seen anything like THAT before—let alone were aware that anything like THAT could be done.
	“I didn’t, either.” admitted Lonnie.  And Lonnie had a raging hard-on.
	Lonnie Emmet, eleven, didn’t know what he was so entranced on; Greg’s cock slamming up into Marsha’s cunt or Marsha’s cunt being slammed by Greg’s cock.  Both were pretty intense.  So bold, brash, out in the open—sort of.  Not far from their homes, surrounded by a few trees of pines and cedars, lots of big-big boulders, Greg and Marsha were doing their thing.
	A small secluded pond was nearby where the two horny teens had recently been swimming and where Lonnie was taking Lisa on their first excursion unsupervised.
	“This’d be a good time to go skinny dipping!” remarked Lonnie earlier that day.
	“What’s that mean?” his new friend Lisa had asked.
	“YOU don’t know what skinny dipping is?”
	The city girl shook her head—No.
	Lisa was new to the country and at a non-school function held at the school the two met and hit it off becoming fast friends.  A week later and the timing was right; parental units, brooding pesky older siblings doing other shit than interfering with Lonnie and Lisa.  Another non-school function held at their school was where the two were supposed to be for the hot-as-hell day; instead,
	“Skinny dipping is where you go swimming—without your clothes on!”
	Lisa’s pretty blue eyes bulged.
	“No way!”
	“Way.”
	“Holy shit!” blurted the girl—an uncharacteristic reply uncommon for the girl to blurt; but she was “fitting in” with the country crowd and the “Holy shit” expletive was a commonality of being “country.”
	The day in the country was hot-hot-hot-as-hell and Lisa was still seeking to “fit in.”  She took only a moment to agree.  She wasn’t totally opposed—so long as it was just her and new friend Lonnie (and not a herd of horny boys.)
	After packing a school bookbag with water and snacks the two friends struck off for trek to the pond.  Lonnie had been there a few times with some friends—skinny dipping.  Never with girls, though.
	With the sun baking the back of their necks and arms the two spies watched in utter awe as Marsha fucked Greg.  It was a hell of an eye opener.  The fucking teens were no further than ten feet; Lonnie and Lisa were in among some brushy bushes and tall unkempt grasses.  There were ants to contend with; gnats, mosquitoes and the baking sun.  None of that mattered—all attention was on the naked Greg and Marsha.
	Greg’s hands were clamped “tenaciously” onto Marsha’s firm well tanned ass.  Parting the cheeks and the two spies saw Marsha’s asshole and Greg’s schlong appearing/disappearing in Marsha’s cunt.  It was intense.  Both onlookers had their mouths agape with their eyes just as much wide.  And with Marsha “spinning” the two eleven year olds were even more in wonder.
	Then the end came—with both Greg and Marsha cumming off.  It was little wonder that Greg was cumming—as evident of his spunk drizzling out of Marsha’s twat coating his cock and balls.  But Marsha made the announcement—loudly,
	“I’M CUMMING!” which confused Lonnie and Lisa.
	“Whattya think THAT means?” asked Lonnie not knowing.
	Lisa shrugged—she didn’t know, either.
	After the naughty teens left the area,
	“You still wanna go swimming?” Lonnie asked sheepishly.
	“I guess so.” then, “Do you think they will come back?”
	Lonnie shrugged.  Wouldn’t bother him if they did, but Lisa didn’t want to be intruded upon—‘specially if she were naked.  And she was still willing to strip down and go swimming naked with Lonnie!  That was a plus.  And after waiting a few more minutes it was Lisa who began peeling off her clothes leaving Lonnie a little dumbstruck.
	She was down to her panties when she turned her head noting Lonnie was still clothed.
	“You going to swim with your clothes on?” she chided him.
	Lonnie came out of his stupor and slowly began undressing.
	When he got to his undies—he so noted that his cock was hard-hard-hard.
	His cock had never been so hard!
	Lisa giggled—she saw her friend’s pronouncement bulging out his tidy-whiteys.  No biggie; there were three brothers at home—two older and one younger.  She had seen them ALL naked.  There was no sexual inappropriateness; just Touchy/Feely; no oral, anal, or other.
	Slowly and did Lisa ease into the water—still clad in her panties.  Sneaking a looksee over her shoulder she saw Lonnie slipping down his underwear.  He had a huge—head of hair.  It was kinky, like a girl’s perm.  He had a small mouth, small teeth, missing a tooth on the side (incisor), and his ears were concealed by all that hair.
	And he had a more than average sized schlong for a boy his age.
	Lisa went on into the water but just so far up to her shoulders.
	Lonnie was about to say “hey, you cant go skinny dipping with your clothes on” when Lisa tossed out her panties.  Unlike Lisa, Lonnie had no siblings (but he HAD seen girls of various ages naked.  Mostly being spanked (more on that cumming up).  Seeing Greg and Marsha out and out fucking—well, that was a heavy mind blower to beat all.
	Lisa didn’t watch her friend enter the water but she heard him.
	“How deep is this?” she asked.
	“I’m not sure,” Lonnie replied, “I’ve never been able to touch the bottom.”
	That was not encouraging.  Lisa decided to hang close to the sloping shore and tread lightly.
	“There aren’t any fish or anything in here—is there?”
	“I don’t think so.”
	The very idea of a “fish” touching her while she swam about “naked” wasn’t cool.  No, not cool at all.  (but swimming about naked with a boy—that was.)
	Trying to see “something” on Lisa whilst underwater wasn’t easy.  For one, she bounced.  The water distorted absolute viewing so Lonnie had to get a little closer.

	“What are you doing?” Lisa suddenly asked.
	“Just swimming!” cheered Lonnie.  The water had pasted his wild bushy hair making him look—silly.
	So, much ado about swimming—with Lonnie “now and then” sneaking a peek at what he could peek at Lisa.  And she seemed to be aware—and obliging!  She giggled and “now and then” spread her legs.  Of course, in her defense she was “bouncing” off the ground and the water made her buoyant to do so.
	After a while and Lonnie actually had had enough of swimming and made for the warm sandy shore.  Part way along and he thought of Lisa and maybe he should conceal himself from her viewing of his nakedness.  Then—again, screw it, let her see!  Once out he turned and sat down, knees up.
	Lisa got her view.  She giggled, blushed, and kept bobbing up and down in the water but also deciding that she had had enough of swimming and began easing out—making straight for where Lonnie sat (exposing himself.)
	“Hey,” Lonnie said grinning, “ever moon a boat?”

Hijinks (in high places)
	With the sun bearing down on them, Lonnie and Lisa made tracks—for the tracks.  A little ways away from the refreshing pond but a good walk that dried them out.  And it seem to be no big deal to sit naked on the shoreline of the remote secluded pond to dry off initially—and chit-chat!
	On their minds was Greg and Marsha; but they discusses the norm.  Their friends, parties, their parents, school, teachers, shit like that.  Lonnie maintained a steady raging ready-to-fuck cock all the while.  When they and their clothes had dried sufficiently they dressed and made for the tracks a mile or so away.
	The tracks, two of them side-by-side went over the Damnitsdeep River—a river spanning about 2,000 yards.  From the bridge to the water—200 feet.  The depth of the river—a mere 100 feet.  Small barges and sightseeing boats made their way up and down the river.  On either side of the river—not much to sightsee; farmland, deep woods, light industry, and more farmland.
	Lisa hesitated when climbing up the small hill to the tracks.
	“You go out there?” she squealed displeasure.
	Lonnie nodded; he was shorter than most kids his age but had a hell of a lot of moxie in him.  He had little fear (or shame).  “Come on,” he said encouragingly, “the bridge aint gonna fall in—big ole trains cross this thing alla the time!”
	He had a point.  Still, though, Lisa was hesitant.
	“Sooo, what’s this mooning about?” she was not in the know.
	Lonnie giggled, “Well,” he said explaining, “when a boat of people pass by under the bridge, you drop your pants and give them the moon!”

	Lisa was flabbergasted.
	Lonnie was all enlightened, beaming, smiling (and still mightily hard!)
	“You first.” Lisa said flatly with an unsure voice.
	Lonnie grabbed her hand, “Aw, come on, we’ll do it together.  No prob.”
	Reluctantly she accompanied her stalwart friend—onto the bridge that spanned a deep, cold, green river.  On the far side was some industrial parks.  The air was hot—and stinky with the creosote soaked timber/ties supporting the railroad tracks and bridge itself.  When stepping off of the ballast (rocks that supported the rails) there was the issue of “spacing” between the ties to contend with.
	To Lonnie—he wasn’t bothered to see the river rushing two hundred feet below.  To Lisa, however—she clutched her friend’s hand very-very hard.
	“Holy fucking shit!” she uncharacteristically exclaimed.
	Lonnie laughed it off and coaxed his friend to the middle where there was stand-out from the tracks for workers on the rails (or foolish trespassing kids.)
	A boat of sightseers was just coming down the river.
	“Soooo, what do you do?” asked a nervous Lisa.
	Lonnie smiled; “Watch!” he said beaming.  And as Lisa watched, Lonnie undone his pants and pushed them—and his undies—down exposing his bare well tanned bum for all to see.  And the sightseers on the sightseeing boat saw.  Most were Japanese tourists who quickly began snapping pictures of the strange American boy baring his ass to them.
	Lisa shook her head—No way—no how.
	But Lonnie egged her on; “Just do it,” he chided, “one time.”
	The boat chugged on and Lisa “I cant belive I’m doing this” Emma dropped her pants (and panties) bearing her slightly tan ass.
	The boat captain either in anger or other tooted the boat’s horn.
	The Japanese tourists clapped.
	A train blared its horn (as it entered the bridge from the industry side.)
	“Enough of your hijinks,” exclaimed Lisa, “let’s get the fuck outta here!”
	There was no time to dart back from whence they came so they braced against the railing of the bridge/trestle standout.  Lisa was in panic mode as the massive lumbering GP locomotive thundered by her just some ten feet away.  But after the General Purpose locomotive thundered by her pulling a 100 car train behind—it wasn’t so bad.  Stinky, but tolerable.  Her fright level decreased—but it was still a bit scary.
	As the last car clickety-clacked by,
	“Damn, we should have mooned the engineer!” remarked Lisa.  This choked up Lonnie who wished he had had said it first—and done it!  It was a good idea.
	“It’s hot up here,” said Lonnie, “let’s go back to the pond.”
What’s a little spanking among friends?
	The return to the pond was a bust—teenagers!  A small group of pesky teens had come to the pond; they were a mix of boys and girls in their mid teens.  Some were swimming, most were drinking (beer) and smoking (marijuana.)  Lisa seemed the most disappointed Lonnie noted.  She seemed to really want to go swimming—skinny dipping swimming again.
	“Any other ideas?” Lisa asked.
	“Well,” drawled Lonnie, “there IS this one place.”
	Lisa didn’t like the sound of that.
	“It’s kinda far.”
	“And?”
	“It’s at the end of this one farm place.”
	Lisa conveyed another “And?”
	“It’s an agri-pond.”
	“What’s that?”
	“A huge pool-like thing, it feeds the farmer’s crops.”
	And along with sneaky kids seeking refuge from the summer sun, birds also sought the pond.
	It was also kinda deep with steep sides.  Made of a dirt berm it was like a swimming pool but sometimes scary.  Also, if the farmer caught you he yelled and if he knew you he called your parents.
	Lisa was disappointed; Lonnie could see it in her face.
	“There is the river.”
	Lisa was startled, “The one we were just on?”
	Lonnie nodded.
	No way—no how.
	“I guess we should get home.” Lisa said at length.
	“Yeah, I sorta gotta check in every so often—my Mom gets riled if I don’t.”
	The two struck off for home a little put off that their plans for the day had been scrubbed.
	“I know a cave we can explore!” cheered Lonnie.
	“A cave?”
	“Yeah, it’s—thattaway!” he pointed looking for his bearings.  “Shouldn’t take long to get there.”
	“Anything special about it?”
	“Well, it used to be an old mine, silver I think.”
	“Is it big?”
	“Nah, not really, but it’s cool—inside.”
	Lisa shrugged saying, “Ok.”
	The two friends changed directions—they’d be late getting home from this adventure and Lonnie would get yelled at from his “riled” mom.  Not the first time—not the last.
	The cave route took them an hour to reach.  Deep inside the woods and into the side a great hill.  They saw two deer—the first one darted and was gone in a blink of an eye.  The second stared at them.  The two kids stood shoulder to shoulder.  Then something made a noise in the woods and that deer, too, was gone in a flash.
	It was still hot out even in the deep woods.  Once inside the abandoned silver mine, however, it was much cooler.  Old mining tools they found and the cave went in to where it was “caved in” about a hundred yards.  Which was about as far as Lisa was willing to go.
	After climbing up on some rocks to a ledge, crossing over a wooden trough/slew, swinging on a rope, clambering here, and riskily climbing there, it was time to go.  They were going to be late getting home; it was summer and the summer sun would still be way high but still—
	As it turned out, however—
	Lisa’s parents were visiting friends and left a note for her to go there, stay with a friend, stay home and order pizza.  Money was left for her to order.
	“Lucky you,” sneered Lonnie, “it’ll be something like meatloaf for me tonight.”
	Then he looked himself over—“Holy shit!” he exclaimed—he was kinda dirty.  “My mom’s gonna bitch at me like crazy!” he was almost whinning.
	“Hmmm,” thought his friend, “why don’t you wash your clothes here.”
	It was a good suggestion—anything to get out of being bawled out.
	Lisa herself needed to wash her own dirty clothes.
	And so they did.
	In the laundry room the shed their clothes—giggling and grinning all the while.  Both sets of clothes were dumped into the washer, Lisa dumped half a cup of laundry soap in then stood butt naked beside her awestuck friend.
	“Now what?” he asked.
	Lisa thought—“I’m hungry.”
	She ordered pizza then took Lonnie to her bedroom.
	No one was home; so after she dressed she found some walking shorts and tee-shirt for Lonnie to wear.  It was creepy wearing someone else’s clothes but for the time being it was ok.  And it was weird to be going about the house—naked!  Not to mention doing so with a girl—who was also naked!
	How cool is that!
	Way.

	Noting the pictures of her brothers—
	“Sooo, you got brothers, huh?”
	“Yeah, Alex, Brad, Randy.”
	The wheels in Lonnie’s mind were just a whirling!
	The question he wanted to ask the most he kept buried.
	“Sooo, do you and your brothers—go skinny dipping?”
	Hmmm  Since she hadn’t known what “skinny dipping” was to begin with until encountering Lonnie—that would be a No.  But he was so-so leading up to something.
	“Not really,” said Lisa, “just stuff around the house—when our parents aren’t around.”
	‘just stuff around the house—when the parents aren’t around?’ interesting.
	“Soooo, you and your brothers—run around naked?” he fingered it out.
	Lisa blushed and giggled, “Yeah.”
	Yeah.
	Yay!
	Lonnie wondered what ELSE they did—when the parents weren’t around.
	“Yeah,” she went on, “we just—you know, run around—skinny dipping without water.”
	Lonnie had to think about that one.
	“Oh.” he said, getting it five minutes later.
	The pizza arrived—with a 2-liter bottle of soda.
	After the pizza devouring—the clothes in the washer were ready for the dryer.
	“I love fresh warm clothes right from the dryer!” supplied Lisa.
	“Yeah, me, too!”
	Lisa tossed the wet clothes into the dryer, patted her stomach, then shrugged,
	“Wanna go skinny dipping some more—without water?”
	You didn’t have to ask Lonnie twice.  He shucked Lisa’s brother’s clothes and happily ran amok “skinny dipping without water.”

	“No, nothing much,” Lisa said on answering Lonnie’s question “do you and your brothers do anything—besides run around naked when your parents aren’t home?” he finally had to ask and she didn’t quite answer.  Lonnie had no idea what a girl looked like—well, if a girl was a virgin or not.  From what he heard a guy was supposed to be able to virgin girl from a slutty one.  But he didn’t know exactly how.
	“They just whip their weenies out at me.” She grinned and blushed.
	Lonnie was startled.
	“They got caught once,” mom and dad came home unexpectedly.
	“Wh-what happened?”
	“Mom got mad at them and yelled.”
	“What did your dad do?”
	“He whipped them.”
	Whoa.
	“Whoa.”
	“Yeah,” she shook her head, “no big deal, they get whipped now and then.”
	Breaking windows, lying, coming home late, running amok naked, and,
	“Playing with themselves.”
	Lonnie wasn’t sure what that meant.  She just threw it out there and seeing that Lonnie didn’t know, she went on.
	“So they got whipped is all.”
	“With a belt?”
	“Yes.”
	Wow.
	“Bare—I mean, bare ass?”
	“Uh-huh,” they were already naked so getting bare ass belted was a given.
	“And if they cuss when they get whipped they get whipped more.”
	“Holy shit.” And all the talk about “whipping” and whipping “bare ass” got naked Lonnie—hard.  He sat fidgeting in the kitchen chair sipping his soda and trying to quell a pesky fart bubble.
	“Did you get whipped?”
	“No,” she giggled, “I was able to duck out “just in time.””
	“But,” she added, “I have—breaking a window, sneaking in late, stuff like that.”
	“Bare ass?”
	“No, but it smarts just the same.”
	Lonnie was lost in thought—there he was sitting next to a girl—a NAKED girl who got her butt smacked.  She was a pretty girl and didn’t look like the type who would be so willing to go about naked!  She was cool.  She went skinny dipping with him, had no fear of practically anything!  Except getting her bottom whipped.
	Curly blond hair, blue eyes, hair to her beginning breasts, long narrow face, beautiful teeth, beautiful skin.  She had a way about her, and peach fuzz on her vagina.  Lonnie had some peach fuzz of his own coming along.
	“My brothers get like that all the time.” Lisa supplied.
	“What?” exclaimed a startled Lonnie.  He then realized he had a raging boner and Lisa knew what it was.
	“Let’s go to my room.”
	At this point, Lonnie was willing to take a banana from a monkey!
	In her bedroom,
	“So have you seen a girl naked before?”
	“Oh, yeah, but—not so up close.”
	Lisa stood just a couple feet from Lonnie allowing him a good look.
	He looked.
	Lisa stared at Lonnie’s dong; she was all smiles.
	“Would you like me to play with it?”
	“Huh?”
	“I play with my brothers weenies all the time.”
	Holy shit!
	“Holy shit!”
	Lisa put her fingers about Lonnie’s weenie and it was way better than when HE put his fingers about his weenie.  Up and down the shaft her fingers went; she had a nice grip and Lonnie thought he was going to explode.  Then,
	“Would you like to put it in me?”
	No answer could Lonnie come up with.  He stood dumbfounded, breathing.
	Lisa took holt of his hard dong taking him to her bed.
	On her bed—wow.  Lonnie could only stare.  Up close and very personal.
	She was more than pretty—she was beautiful!  (especially naked!)
	“Have you ever done it before?”
	“Done what?” he asked stupidly.  Then, catching himself, “Oh.”
	His sheepish embarrassing grin and non-committal look to her face told her that HE was a virgin.  Well, at least one of them was.  Lonnie had never seen a girl’s quim so up close.  Lisa parted her legs and lightly fingered herself.  Lonnie’s cock was incredibly hard—so hard that he was in ache.
	“We can do it if you want.”
	Do what?
	Oh.
	The image of Greg and Marsha filled his mind; and there were other images filling his young mind.  It seemed as if though everyone around him was “doing it” but him!
	With a slight shrug he moved up and remembering Greg and Marsha eased his weenie into Lisa’s groove.  Almost instantaneously and there was marked pleasure.  He had fucked his bed—it felt good.  He had laid on his back on his bed bringing his pillow betwixt his legs—and fucked it.  He learned how to manipulate his johnson sliding into the known world of “masturbation.”  He wasn’t particularly good it—but he got some pleasure just the same.
	His cock in willing Lisa Emma’s pussy?
	da bomb.
	Fucking pussy trumped all other forms of physical pleasure.
	The “release” was more fantastic than he ever could imagine.
	Pulling out and Lonnie’s “weenie” remained steadfastly hard.
	It also tingled and seemed to be on fire!
	He had “fucked” his first girl!
	Obsessed was Lonnie on checking out Lisa’s body—her titties, pussy, face, pussy, pussy, pussy.  He stared and stared and almost missed Lisa asking,
	“Want to do it again?”
	“Just for your information,” Lonnie said smirkingly, “you don’t have to ever ask that.”
	They engaged in sex again; then jumped into the shower where Lisa fondled his cock, balls, and they almost engaged in sex again.  Almost—it was too precarious.  She had done so—with her brothers.  Two would hold her while the other put his weenie in her.
	After drying off and back in her bedroom—Lonnie’s mind was just blown.
	“Sooo, do you like having sex—with your brothers?”
	Lisa shrugged.  “They like it.  It’s ok.”
	“Do you like being spanked?”
	“Hmmm, sometimes—kinda.” Then again—not so “kinda.”  Sometimes her pissed off daddy could really do some whippin’!
	“Why?” she asked.
	“Oh, I dunno, sometimes—” he didn’t finish.
	“Do YOU like to get whipped?”
	Sometimes his dad got after him with a belt.  Then sometimes—sometimes he got after himself.  He did!  He spanked himself!
	“How?” asked Lisa.
	“Not easy.” But he used his own belt to swat himself.
	“Sometimes, if I do it right, it—it makes me tingle.”  And his weenie was STILL mighty hard.
	After a couple of interesting minutes—
	“Wanna whip me?” Lisa asked.
	Lonnie smiled and landed a couple of smacks of his belt to Lisa’s bare ass as she lay across her bed—like her daddy had her do.  Hmmm—interesting.  Her brothers had to take their pants and underwear down and get up against their bed to be whipped.  Then they had to stay that way for nearly an hour.  If they moved, they got whipped again.
	“Sometimes,” Lisa admitted, “I get whipped with my pants down, too.”
	The way she said it and Lonnie got the feeling she didn’t like it that way.
	She didn’t mention if she had to take her panties down, too.  Panties, though, like his underwear, didn’t offer too much protection.  Still,

	With a sigh and a methodic tug on his pud,
	“Hey, wanna go see someone getting whipped?”
	Kinky.  I’ve been on worse dates.

*

Spank O’ Ramma!
	The sun was just beginning to set.  Lonnie and Lisa cleaned up the kitchen, dressed in clean warm clothes, then made way to “see someone getting whipped.”  Down the alley two blocks to a house where a huge oak tree took up space in the front yard.  A two-story home with a big garage.  Out in the backyard was a boat playhouse.  Most homes in the area had treehouses or regular smaller playhouses on the ground.  The home of Noah Immaseaman had a boat.
	It was a mini replica of a fishing troller; Noah himself built the boat for his grandchildren.  He was an old sailor, a merchant marine then private fisher.  Lonnie and Lisa sneaked along a wooden fence to where there was a loose board.  Slipping inside they made their way along the side of the house coming to the old man’s den.
	Inside and they were “just in time.”
	The den was filled with books and marine items; fishing nets, anchors, ship wheels, plaques and star fish replicas.  Sitting at his great ornate cherry wood desk was Noah.  He was actually a nice man, Lonnie knew him—and is granddaughter, Katey.  She was eleven and went to Lonnie’s school.  And Katey was in the den, too.  She was kind of—weird.
	“Weird?”
	“Yeah,” hard to explain; quiet at times, was seriously into Moonetry—all about the sea, ocean, boats, and seagulls.  She often wore bib overalls, sometimes nearly new, most times well worn.  Not very socialable but Lonnie liked her and they knew one another.  She had seriously jet black hair that covered her ears, green eyes, and not much in the titty department.
	What was being said could not be heard—but what was being said was not the point.  The eleven year old came into the den; her mother and four year old sister lived at the home, too.  The mother worked in the city and often didn’t home until very late.  Coming up to the desk and Katey unhooked the clasp to her faded well worn overalls and they dropped to her ankles.
	“Holy shit!” exclaimed Lisa.
	“Wait.” snickered Lonnie.
	Katey wore off-blue panties and a matching off-blue tee-shirt.
	The tee-shirt came off in one fluid motion.  No bra.  None was necessary.
	Down went the panties and Grandpa Noah pulled the girl to him laying her across his knees.
	“What the fuck?” asked Lisa.
	“Not sure,” Lonnie replied, “but it happens—a lot.”
	“What she do?”
	Lonnie shrugged, “No idea.” Then,
	SMACK!  Even thru the wooden walls both spies could hear the smack to the girl’s bare ass.  Katey’s legs flailed and her arms were pinned behind her back.  Another smack and the girl began to twist.  The two spies moved to another window where they could just see Katey’s ass.  The window was grimey and the two spies had to stand on a water supply pipe.
	SMACK!  SMACK!  SMACK!
	Katey’s ass was red-red-red.  She stood up, wiped her tears, rubbed her ass, then went to her knees.  Noah stood up and fished out his penis.
	“Oh my God!” blurted Lisa.
	Lonnie smiled and fished out his own penis.
	Katey began sucking—sucking—sucking.
	Lonnie began masturbating.
	Lisa watched him—he was in heavy lust; getting off on watching Katey being spanked (and then sucking cock.)
	Lisa’s mouth hung open.  She was stunned beyond belief.
	“You’ve never done that?” Lonnie had to ask.
	Lisa shook her head.
	“It’s called giving head, or a blowjob, OR sucking cock.”
	Lisa could only stand, breathe, and watch.  Slowly, though, she began fingering herself.  Lonnie watched her and the urge to fuck was great with him.
	Back inside the den—
	Katey stood up (it was not clear whether or not the old man had blasted a load into her mouth.)  She worked off her clothes from her ankles then sat on his desk.  Noah stroked his manhood and then simply put it into her pussy!  He did!  The angle was no good for Lonnie and Lisa—they saw only his pumping lily white “old man ass.”  No one wants to see that.
	So the two slipped off the pipe they were standing on—they fell.  Right into a bit of water and mud where the pipe was leaking causing such.
	“Goddamn it!” Lisa bitched, “And we just got them clean!”
	After brushing off they sneaked their way to the other window where they saw that Katey had turned over and was getting dicked from behind.  Whether she was getting dicked in the ass or pussy was not clear.  

	Either way—Lonnie was in a bad way.  So was Lisa!  They left Noah and Katey and sneaked out behind the garden shed where Lonnie quickly hurried out of his pants.  Lisa did likewise and then, like Marsha from earlier in the day, “mounted” Lonnie and fucked him!

A day in the park
	Lisa was a cool chick; no doubt about it.  She was cool to go skinny dipping, cool to do a BA to the sightseers, cool to go on the train trestle to begin with, way cool to hang in the stand-out while the train thundered by.  She was cool.
	Oh, and she was cool to go about her house naked.
	Oh, and to willingly have sex with him—way cool.
	When Lonnie got home—his parents were out elsewhere, too.  He got naked, masturbated, washed his clothes, took a long hot shower, then went to bed—naked.  He thought solely of Lisa.  Although his dick was in her pussy—SHE was the one in command.  And although she was at home and he was at his—he still felt her presence.  She wore this perfume that reminded him of cotton candy.  Behind the garden shed it was SHE who had mounted him!  Just like Marsha had done to Greg.
	She was way cool.
	And she didn’t seem too miffed or upset about Katey being bare assed spanked—or getting boinked by her grandfather.  In fact, she seemed to take it all in stride AND it seemed to turn her on just as much as it did him!  Cool!
	For Lisa—
	She got home just as her parents did.
	“You been wallowin’ with the piggies?” jeered one of her brothers.
	“You missed the best—whoa, what the crackers happened to you?” another brother.
	“LISA!” bitched her mother.  “Honestly!  You good clothes!”
	Lisa was a little petrified.  More so when her eyes locked with her dad’s.
	“Get in the house.”
	This wasn’t going to be good.
	In her room she tensed.  Her dad came in right behind her—shutting the door behind him.
	“Alright, get ‘em off.” he said flatly.
	Lisa didn’t pause but pulled off her “nice” light summer blouse with frilly fringes.  Her muddy shoes were kicked off and then down came her white “nice enough for church” pants.  That was followed by her yellow panties.
	“Go on.” he said.
	Lisa turned and got onto her bed, hands down by her side.

	Clenching, Lisa tried to relax—but the anticipation of what was to come made that difficult.  Her daddy’s hand came to her bare ass; smoothing over the nicely tanned skin.  The fingers delved into the crack with one touching her asshole.
	Then the first smack came.  She jolted and tensed.  Another smack caused her to almost yelp.  The next smack did.  Then he smoothed his hand over her quickly burning ass, squeezing the cheeks then asking,
	“Do you want the belt?” to wit Lisa quickly shook her head.
	“Ok, then—come on.”
	Lisa rubbed her searing butt as she moved off the bed and onto her knees.
	Her daddy had his penis out.  It was long, hard, oddly curved and not so unlike Lonnie’s.  Grasping his penis at the base he waggled it before his eleven year old daughter and she put her fingers about the shaft—then her lips to the head.  Up and down she went—up and down—up and down.  Her daddy said nothing; his cock spoke loads.  A jut of spunk exploded within a couple of minutes coating Lisa still intact tonsils.  The he pulled out and rubbed his cock all over her sweet face.
	“You want the belt?” he asked again.
	Lisa shook her head.  As per ritual, after being spanked and then slobbering on her daddy’s cock—
	“Alright then, on your bed.”
	Lisa scrambled up to her bed, laying down on her backside—legs open.
	As she stared up to the powder blue ceiling—her dear daddy ogled her nakedness—specifically her young pre-teen cunny.  Then he jacked off onto it.

	“HI!” exclaimed an exuberant Lonnie.  He was all smiles (and sporting a brand new hard-on.)
	“What’s up for today?” Lisa asked.  She was all bright and pretty—and Lonnie had seen her naked.  Not only naked, he had showered with her, fucked her, gotten fucked by, skinny dipped, mooned and he couldn’t wait to do it again!
	“I don’t know, hang out at the park?”
	The weather was warm—but it was summer in the country.  The park had a ton of trees that provided lots of shade.  There were sections to the park; where the teens all hung out, the volleyball area, the section where the seniors hung out.  There, too, was a place for little kids and their guardians to hang out.
	Also, there was a smaller area far to the end of the park that butted against the woods.  There was a small duck pond there, some picnic tables, and a playhouse that was a train’s caboose.  Lonnie took Lisa to that area.  He was smiling all the way.
	“If we’re on time, we’ll get to see something neat.”

	To one side of the caboose was a small garden shed.  Park gardener, Grady Boyimaboy, worked out of the shed.  He took care of most of the plants and tended to the duck ponds.  A nice man; very friendly, in his late 50s, hazel eyes, serious receding hairline, a typical “man”.
	And being a typical man—
	Occasionally Grady’s ten year old niece came to visit him.  She was very shy, bashful, and one handed—a birth defect.  Short sassy jet black hair, slender body, and preferred overalls as her daily attire.  But unlike Katey in the previous story, “Colleen” liked hers to be a little more “washed.”  She liked hers “like new”; there were some colorful patches her mother sewed into the garment—on the pockets, knees, and so on.
	From their vantage point inside the caboose up in the “cupola”, Lonnie and Lisa could see into the garden shed via the skylight.  And as soon as visiting Colleen greeted her Uncle Grady with a big smile and a hug—the “something neat” Lonnie promised began.
	After a serious hug from his niece, Grady closed the garden shed door.  Inside was cluttered with pots, flowers, two work benches, and a myriad of garden tools.  Kneeling down before the ten year old he spoke to her—what was said was unknown but it made the young girl blush and twist in embarrassment.  So it was something sweet.
	Lonnie wasn’t sure, but he thought Mr. Boyimaboy used something like those guys at the county fair and carnivals—a hypnotist.  For after saying something to his niece and Mr. B was undoing the girl’s brass clasp holding up her typical dark blue denim bib overalls.
	The garment fell down revealing green panties with red trim.
	Nice.
	She wore, too, a light and airy tee-shirt (with a floral print.)
	Mr. B smoothed his hands all over the girl’s body; her sides, back, and up under her shirt to her flat breasts.  Then he lowered her panties.  Colleen did nothing; no fidgeting, no squirming, no crying, no nothing.  She continued to do nothing all the while her uncle caressed her now bare ass.  More nothing as he also fingered her pussy.
	Then, up onto a workbench she was hoisted.  Her face was a blank expression of nothingness.
	“She’s hypnotized.” supplied Lonnie.
	Lisa nodded and continued to watch.
	The overalls and panties were tugged off and Park Gardener Grady Boyimaboy spread her legs to gander at her delicious goody.  Lifting her legs and Colleen was angled backward to where her shoulders touched the wall.  Her uncle then began to lick out her pussy.  He did!
	He licked and he licked and lapped and he licked.
	Then looking around for security’s sake, he dropped his own pants and blatantly began masturbating.  His niece remained calm—and unknowing.  Grady slapped his fuck stick against the girl’s vagina—over and over again.  Due to the angle, though, the two spies in the caboose couldn’t see the exact details but—
	After much spanking of his weenie against the mind-stunned Colleen, Grady Boyimaboy entered her.  A slow process of pumping ensued; a pullout now and then for more pussy spanking, then gouging the gash, then back into the recess to complete the deed.
	Lonnie was in a bad way; his cock was spurting inside his underwear and his basically hairless nads were tingling.  There were a few kids in the lower part of the caboose—
	Surreptitiously and Lonnie eased out his cock.  He didn’t think Lisa would mind.  She didn’t.  She took holt of his dick, played with it—then put her mouth to it and sucked it!  She did!  Lonnie leaned back and enjoyed.  There were lots of pillows about the top area of the caboose, Lonnie situated them to form a sort of “fort” just in case some wayward kid came along and looked up.  Then he laid down and began working down his pants and undies.  Lisa helped.
	After sucking him wholly and fully she slipped off her own pants and panties and mounted him!  It was awesome!  They could hear kids below and the risk of getting caught intensified their lovemaking.  Lisa giggled, Lonnie blushed.  It felt good—it was weird but it felt good.  Real good.  Clamping his hands to Lisa’s naked arse enthralled him and he power fucked up into her cunny—just like Greg had done to Marsha!
	Then,
	“Do you like spanking?” Lisa asked.
	That caught her lover off guard.
	“I dunno,” he said sheepishly, “I-I like to watch.” for sure.
	After the little fest in the caboose they checked on the Park Gardener and his niece—they were gone.  Oh well.

*

	From the park the two made way to a drive-in—time for a thick, rich, malted milkshake (and a heaping helping of chili cheese fries.)  Lonnie was kind of weirded out—due to Lisa’s not being overly concerned about the Park Gardener molesting his niece.  She did seem to be bothered by it at all!  How odd!
	“So why did you ask me if I liked spanking?” Lisa asked off-handedly.
	Lonnie shrugged, “Oh, I dunno—just asking.”
	“Do you?”
	“Kind of hard to spank myself!” Lonnie chortled back.
	Lisa laughed back, “I guess so.”  Then,
	“But, yeah—I kinda do.”
	Lonnie stared at her.  She was more unbelievable than he could ever imagine.  He was at a loss for words.  His breathing increased, his cock hardened, and he wondered for a brief second—was this love?
	“Your brothers spank you?”
	Lisa nodded but didn’t supply the needful information—or the whole bit about her daddy whipping her.  She was sooooo pretty!  Her long blond hair, blue eyes, her face, eyes—everything!  And she was willing to have SEX with him!  And she initiated the sex, too!
	Lisa was cool!
	“There’s no one at my place.” Lonnie announced.  He was smiling.
	Lisa smiled, too.

	As soon as the house was checked (to make sure no one was home) the kids shed their clothes.  Doors were locked and the two miscreants ran amok dancing naked and being silly before collapsing on Lonnie’s bed.  Lisa lay beside him on her side.  Lonnie’s mind was in high orbit—never in his life did he think he would be running about his house naked with a girl!
	Then, Lisa moved her hand to begin playing with Lonnie’s dong.  The dong was already mostly prominently hard—Lisa’s handiwork got it even harder!  Then she moved her entire body onto the stiffened member and began grinding her pussy on it.  Yep, it got harder.
	Clamping his hands onto the girl’s butt he grinded against her.
	Then he was going in—much to the help of Lisa’s guiding fingers!
	The fuck that came was orgasmic!  Lonnie shuddered (and shimmered!)
	Lisa lay on him humping her hips, clenching her pussy, and reacting inasmuch as her young lover heaving beneath her.  Then she sighed and rested her head on his chest.
	“So,” drawled Lonnie, “what about this spanking?”
	Without missing a beat—“Roll over!”

Cum stains for everyone!
	“Who lives here?”
	“Jenny Laughtrack.” She was a year younger than Lonnie/Lisa but Lonnie deemed her to be way cute.  Way.  Like Lisa, Jenny had long blond hair and a great butt.  She always smelled like orange blossoms and had a delightful laugh.  Lonnie yanked himself (often) thinking of her.  

	He fantasized (a lot) about what she looked like naked or at best in her underwear.  On this visit—he got to see more than he thought he ever would.   Accompanied by faithful sidekick, Lisa, Lonnie stared breathlessly thru the window watching as Jenny stood in her bedroom before her dresser brushing her long blond hair.
	She stood in a mid-thigh length yellow tee-shirt with a big happy duck on the front.  She was actually almost eleven—in about four months.  Lonnie deemed her to have the best butt he had ever seen (save for Lisa’s butt of course.)  He wished the girl (Jenny) would be like Lisa—naughty.  Lisa was so giving of herself—and how!  Oh!  Oh how he wanted Jenny—to spank her and her to spank him!  Oh!  The mere thought(s) give him wood.
	But Lisa—Lisa was tops.  She was sooooo cool!
	She spanked him!
	And he liked it!
	And he spanked her!
	And SHE liked it!
	Back to Jenny.
	The hour was—not too late, evening type time.  Lonnie had just missed Jenny in the bathroom for her nightly bathing.  He really-really-really wanted to see her naked.  Thanks to Lisa—he now had a pretty good idea (as to what a girl looked like—naked.)  Oh, how he wanted to spank her!
	Then the bedroom door opened and in waltzed Jenny’s dad, Harold.
	Lonnie had met Harold, at school for some assembly or something.  He was ok he guessed—busy guy; worked in an office or something.  He was kinda tall, but to Lonnie, every adult was “tall.”
	There was no “mommy”, or other siblings.
	Jenny greeted her father; they hugged and give the customary brief kiss-peck.  Harold, however, gave a little more—a little more in his hug mainly.  From Lonnie’s vantage point—which was precarious as he and Lisa were standing on an empty fruit crate box—Harold slipped his hand UP Jenny’s long yellow tee-shirt she would wear to bed.
	Lonnie was all attentive.  His breathing became labored, his right hand came to Lisa’s ass, his cock could break thru the wall he was against!  Jenny wore matching yellow panties.  As his hands smoothed about the girl’s butt—she giggled, squirmed, and put her hands to his making him stop.  It was play—for her.  Her daddy tickled her, they played some sort of hand game, talked, and then—then Harold did something Lonnie had to think about what he did.
	“He hypnotized her.” Lisa whispered.

	He “hypnotized” her—using a quick blinding light (from his watch).  The girl was suddenly still; no laughing, giggling, or slapping away her daddy’s hands as they once more went smoothing over her delicious tight little girlie butt.  Lonnie was about to bust.  Earlier, at his house on his bed, after being told to “roll over”, Lisa smacked his bare ass.
	The first smack kind of stung but it was tolerable.  She fondled his but sac before smacking him again—she sat on his legs so the spanking was kind of awkward.  His cock had just been in her pussy and it had felt good!  Now, being smacked and his cock was squashed under him against his bed—it felt even more so!
	SMACK!  SMACK!  SMACK!  Lisa let reign down a flurry of swats that definitely got his attention.  The stinging of his flesh was getting to be a bit much—thankfully she stopped just before he shed tears.
	Then it was Lisa’s turn.
	With his butt still burning he stood and firstly admired Lisa’s bare ass.
	What a nice ass!
	And smacking that ass—da bomb!  His cock got soooo hard!  He had no idea spanking could be so great!  Receiving wasn’t so grand—but giving!  da bomb!  And smacking Lisa’s perfect ass until it was red (and Lonnie’s hands were stinging) invoked serious sexual naughtiness.  The two engaged in sex (with Lonnie on top this time) then migrated to the bathroom shower where after some awkward clumsy almost slipping and falling they managed more; with Lisa’s shoulders against the smooth shower wall—Lonnie banged off into her pussy unti he thought he’d pass out!
	Then, on the floor after the shower, they engaged in doggie style fucking.
	In Jenny’s bedroom, Harold lowered Jenny’s panties.  The girl remained still with no protest whatsoever.  The nightgown/tee-shirt was slipped off and daddy Harold on his knees stared into his daughter’s eyes.  She merely breathed.  He kissed her—first on the cheek and then on the lips.
	“He’s Frenching her!” Lisa whispered.
	Lonnie wasn’t sure what that was.
	Harold, after “Frenching” his ten year old daughter, hugged her—very-very inappropriately.  His hands smoothed tenaciously all over her now naked ass.  Then he hoisted her up onto her bed, parted her legs, then “Frenched” her pussy!
	“Holy shit!” blurted Lisa.
	Lonnie was speechless.
	The man’s body blocked Lonnie from seeing the exactness of his actions (but he imagined the best.)  Harold licked and licked and licked—then stood up and got naked.
	“Holy FUCKING shit!” Lisa said.
	Harold stood—unaware of the two pestering spies—buck bare assed naked.
	His manhood was hard-hard-hard.  He flogged it, circled jerked it, then spanked it against his daughter’s pussy.  Again and again and again.  Then he began to spank the girl’s pussy (with his cock!)  Lonnie and Lisa stood with mouths agape.
	“He’s gonna fuck her!” Lisa whispered.
	Lonnie concurred with the nodding of his bewildered head.
	But no, Harold did not defile his child; after smacking her pussy to his cock-heart’s content he glided his member up and down the girl’s slit until cumming off thereon.  He then smeared the head of his prick all over the cum stained pussy before turning her over and spanking her!
	Bare hand to bare ass—and the girl did not know!

Ms. Whattenbarger—I never knew you!
	Moving along.
	Lonnie was speechless.  And there were some misgivings about what he saw, too.  On one hand he knew that Jenny’s dad had out and out molested her.  Somehow he had hypnotized her and then—molested her.  Big time.
	On the other hand—it was pretty cool!  Lonnie wished he had been there doing those things.  He had Lisa—that was cool.  But he wanted to do same to Jenny.  And Becky Lawlessness, Amy Bellinatrain, Zena Shootits, and half a dozen other girls in his class.
	The kids made their way home—after slipping inside a canopy of ivy in the alley.  Here they quickly got naked (to add to the risk of getting caught) and Lisa sucked Lonnie’s dick.  Then, laying down, Lonnie licked out Lisa’s pussy.  Seemed the thing to do.  Her pussy was—delicious!  He was more enthralled than he thought he could ever be.  Slipping his super hardened cock into where he had been licking accentuated that feeling.
	Along their way home—
	“This is Fred Ickinastone’s place.” Lonnie told Lisa, ‘Freaky Fred.’
	After crossing the huge backyard they came up to a bedroom window.  Inside was Fred—Freaky Fred and his mom.
	“Why “Freaky?” Lisa asked.
	Hard to explain—he seldom spoke, was very shy, never looked up, and when he did talk—you couldn’t hardly hear him.  He was thirteen years old and someone said he was “autistic” but Lonnie didn’t know what that meant (except maybe a science name for “freaky.”)
	What it looked like inside was Fred was getting a scolding from his mom.

	His mom worked in a real estate office—she had auburn hair tied up in a tight bun, red framed glasses, and wore an off-white blouse with a tight black knight skirt.  Sitting on Fred’s bed with Fred right in front of she seemed to berate him about something or another.  Then,
	Freaky Fred’s mother, Ginger, yanked down the boy’s pants!  She did!
	What’s more, she yanked down his underwear, too!
	Then she landed a hard smack to his now bare ass.
	“Whoa!” said Lonnie.
	“What the fuck!?” piped Lisa.
	Fred was taken down across his mother’s lap and she unceremoniously began smacking his bare ass.  Over and over and over and over until the flesh was a brilliant red.
	“Goddamn!” breathed Lonnie.
	“No shit.” said Lisa.
	Ginger stood her son up and took his penis—which was semi hard—and “flicked” the head of it!  She did!  (earlier and she had walked in on her son whacking off and this was punishment.)
	The boy whimpered, stamped his feet, and rubbed his beaten ass.
	Ginger rubbed the boy’s beaten ass, too.  Then she stood up and removed her off-white blouse.  There was no bra.  The staring kids at the window couldn’t believe their eyes.  Down came the tight black knit skirt and matching black panties.  Then she laid out across the boy’s bed.  Parting her legs she began fingering her hairless poon.
	“No fucking way!” Lisa exclaimed.
	Lonnie couldn’t believe what he was seeing.  Harold licking out Jenny’s pussy was one thing—this shit was beyond that.  Fred “went down” on his mother’s hairless cunt and began an earnest bout of lashing.  His mother twisted on the bed, banged his legs against her son’s head, and her cries of delight could be heard thru the walls.
	Fred mounted her moments later.  From their vantage point Lonnie and Lisa could see Fred’s schlong going into his mother.  The pumping began and it took only three to four minutes before he came.  His ass remained brilliantly red.  He sat up (with his dick still in his mother’s cunt) and pumped a little more before pulling out.  He then humped the gash that had given him birth before moving up to straddle her chest (and give her a titty fuck.)
	“It’s getting late,” Lisa said, “I gotta get home.”
	Lonnie walked Lisa home—and as soon as she got in the door her father pointed out the time to the girl saying “You’re late!” and somewhat roughly sent her to her room.

*

Cumboree!
	We’ll be back to Evil and Geeman shortly, but first!

	Lonnie had other friends other than Lisa, Rex Pieorchard was one.  He was mischievous and got into LOTS of trouble—with his folks and the law.  Dirty blond hair that was never combed and (seldom washed.)  He was good natured—sort of; was an explorer, had his BB gun taken from him many-many times (and was beaten with it, too!)
	One evening,
	“Hey, let’s go fuck with the goody-two-shoes!” the boy scouts.
	Having nothing better to do Lonnie was a go.  He needed the distraction—fucking with Lisa was good and all but his dick was getting kind of worn out.  The two friends struck off to where the boy scouts were camping having some sort of outing.
	“What’ll we do to them this time?” Lonnie asked along their way.
	Last time and they set fire to their tents; besieged them with fire ants, and then tossed a beehive into their camp.  What could top that?
	“I dunno,” said Rex, “I’ll think of something.”
	They were not prepared for what they saw when coming up onto the scouts.
	Upon their arrival—festivities were already in progress.  Just how many scouts there was wasn’t known—neither Lonnie or Rex counted them.  Suffice it to say there were “several” young scouters; from ten years to thirteen—and about a dozen (or so.)  Plus the Scout Master.  Some of the boys Lonnie and Rex knew; the Scout Master they had seen but didn’t think he was a resident of their town.
	The campsite was quite aways from town—of which concerned Lonnie as he would be late super late getting home.  For certain a scolding and depending on the lateness of the hour—a possible ass whipping.  An ass whipping from Lisa was one thing—and a good thing.  An ass whipping from his dad was something else—not to be looked forward to.
	Anyways,
	The boys were naked.
	They had just shucked their clothes—and the Scout Master?  He was naked, too.  One boy, about ten, came up to the sitting Master and was laid across the naked man’s knees.  There was a good campfire in a rocked campfire pit; tents were set up, and the hour—it was late.
	The Scout Master caressed the boy’s ass; the other boys were encircled about the about the campfire—masturbating.  Onlookers just outside the camp Lonnie and Rex sat in dumbfoundment.
	After a moment or two of caressing the boy’s bare ass—
	SMACK!
	The boy jolted.  He had very blond hair, very naturally curly, brilliant blue eyes, and soon—a brilliant red ass!  He looked almost kinda sorta—frail.  He also needed to be out in the sun more—naked.  The Master Scout swatted the boy’s ass twice more—and the only reaction from the naked ten year old was “jolting.”
	After that boy got his ass beaten he was stood up, turned and had his reddened ass caressed.  The next boy in line took his place across the Master’s lap.  He was about twelve.  And as his was slapped/spanked—he sucked on the cock of the first boy!
	Awesome!
	After the second boy got his ass swatted (and how!) HE stood up and took position of the first boy.  Then the next lad came to lay across the Master of Scouts lap and thusly be swatted (and how!) as well as suck the second boy’s dick.   When the last boy had gotten his ass beat (and mouth full of cock) the Master of Scouts stood up and shuttled his pants and undies to his ankles.  His cock was “masterfully” hard—and each boy took a turn sucking it.
	There’s more!
	After the last boy got his fill of the Master’s cock—
	“I bet he’s gonna boink ‘em up the ass!” whispered Rex.
	Safe bet.
	After the last boy, who was the first boy to get his ass smacked (and then subsequently sucked) he was turned around and placed in prime position “on all fours.”  Then his ass was once more smacked before his Master’s cock came sailing to also smack the bare ass.
	Then—
	‘up the ass.’
	The Master, a man in his fifties, ceremoniously guided his cock into the young lad’s hole.  Rex seemed enthused—he pulled his own cock out and began circle jerking.  Lonnie kinda sorta wanted to do same but felt odd about it so he didn’t.
	Then it was the scouts’ turn—‘up the ass.’
	Each boy once more laid across the Master’s lap; then, the boy behind got on his knees and firstly gave that boy a rim job!  He did!  And that was followed by ‘up the ass.’  The strapping young lad nicely penetrated the boy laying down and righteously sodomized him.
	“Sonofabitch!” breathed a stunned Lonnie.
	“No shit!”
	“Never seen any shit like that!”
	“Kinda makes ya wanna join up, huh?”
	Lonnie gave his odd friend a long hard look.
	Rex giggled—and continued to hammer his schlong.
	As each boy ass mastered the one laying down—he got his own ass mastered—by hard smacking.  Lonnie finally pulled his meat stick out and began hand humping.  He thought of Lisa, though—not the scouts.
	“Nice.” said Rex.
	“Huh?” Lonnie said not knowing.
	“Your dick, ‘nice.’”
	Lonnie once more stared at his “odd” friend.
	“I-I guess so.” he stammered.
	Rex giggled and returned his attention to the scouts.
	After much cornholing, ball washing, and spanking, the scouts (and their Master) retired for the night.
	“I’m gonna get it for sure!” bitched Lonnie.  “Wont your old man be pissed at you coming in so late?”
	“Nah, he’ll be laid out too drunk to know.”
	‘Wish my “old man” would drink like that.’ Lonnie fretted about coming in so late—his dad would be pissed.
	Along the way—
	“You ever do that stuff they were doing?” Rex asked offhandedly.
	“No.” Lonnie replied—still fretting.
	“Ever want to?”
	‘What the fu—”
	“I don’t mean nuttin’ by it,” Rex said, “just wonderin’.”
	Lonnie nodded.  Then he began to think.  Then, ‘DUDE!  Fucker wants me to suck his dick!’ that was soooo not gonna happen.  Maybe.  On reflection—Lonnie WAS kinda curious about cocksucking.  But mostly that curiosity had been settled by Lisa…
	“You wanna—suck MY dick?” Lonnie asked sheepishly.
	“Ok,” Rex returned (quickly) “and you’ll do me?”
	“Ok.” Lonnie said—but not as quickly.
	It was dark—damn dark.  And late—damn late.  Regardless, at the end of Long Meadow was something of a marsh—lots of cattails and assorted shrubs, an old canoe, lots of noisy nighttime critters that croaked, squeaked, and buzzed.  There was just enough nighttime ambient light to see.  The boys got naked and playfully flopped their dongs about before Rex dropped to his knees.
	He was all giggles but seemingly (expertly) took his friend’s not-so-erect cock and masturbated it.  Try-try-try as he might—Lonnie couldn’t get an hard-on.  He thought of Lisa but still didn’t help.  

	Lonnie felt sudden unique feelings as Rex pressed his lips over his bulbous tip.  His cock DID swell and just as proficiently as Lisa Rex sucked the cock in and began bobbing his head back and forth.
	All thoughts in Lonnie’s mind vanished.
	He didn’t cum—not even close, but the suck job was pretty good.
	“My turn!” said a gleeful Rex.
	‘Shit.’
	He had never sucked a cock and never even thought of doing so, but—
	Closing his eyes helped—some.  His first notion of what a dick in his mouth tasted like was string cheese.  Lonnie liked string cheese.  But cock was cock—not string mozzarella cheese.  He went over the head of the cock and then down the shaft.  Up and down—up and down—up and down.  And just as the gag reflex began to kick in—
	“OUCH!” Rex was bitten by a mosquito.
	Then Lonnie was bitten.
	Then Rex—then Lonnie.
	“Fuck it—outta here!” said Rex.
	The boys swam across the marsh—it was cold (and deep) then headed for home.  Neither spoke much about the cocksucking deed.  At the point where they had to split to go to their separate homes—
	“What about up the ass?” Rex asked.
	“Tomorrow.” Returned Lonnie.
	Rex giggled and disappeared into the night.
	Lonnie shuffled home—it was almost eleven o’clock.

	Rex would not get the chance to fuck and be fucked by Lonnie.  Lonnie’s dad was waiting for him when Lonnie came slipping in the backdoor.  Roughly the construction worker grabbed his son dragging him to his room where he bellowed—
	“Get ‘em off!”
	Lonnie, crying, sniveling, and begging, pushed his pants down.
	“Gettin’ tired of you waltzing in whenever the fuck you think you can!” and he produced a 2-inch wide belt.
	“Dad!  NO!” Lonnie begged as he sought to hide at his bed.
	“Don’t you fuckin’ tell me no!” and he smacked the belt outward.
	Lonnie cowered at the side of his bed; his dad grabbed him beating him mercilessly with the belt.  Lonnie screamed as the reign of blows stung his skin.
	“SON-OF-A-BITCH!” yelled Lonnie—which only infuriated his Southern Baptist father.  Roughly very roughly and was Lonnie thrown against his bed and the belting lashed his backside, bare ass, and legs.
	Lonnie screamed, choked, and did all he could to wrestle from the beating.
	The pissed off daddy wrestled with his son turning him over onto his backside and lifting his legs so as he could belt him that way.  Lonnie furiously fought back kicking his dad in the face.
	“You sorry ass sonofabitch!” yelled his infuriated dad.  The belting rained down even more so.  Lonnie’s pants and undies were bunched up at his ankles; he didn’t mean so but he did kick out to his dad just to try and stop the beating.  His dad was enraged and blinded so—he grabbed his son and thoroughly whipped him.
	At length, Lonnie fell to the floor.
	Lonnie’s dad kicked him, “Get up!” he demanded.
	Lonnie didn’t move.
	“GET UP!” said the dad snapping the belt clenched tightly in his fist.
	Lonnie didn’t move.
	Donnie nudged his lifeless son.
	“Boy,” he said, “you best get a movin’!”
	Lonnie didn’t move.
	“Boy?”
	Lonnie didn’t respond.
	“You best get yer fuckin’ ass to bed!” and the man stomped off to the bathroom—the kitchen where he got a beer and sat down at the table therein to drink it.  After consuming the alcoholic nourishment he returned to his son’s room finding his son unresponsive to his commands.
	“Lonnie,” he said with a more calmer voice, “stand up, son.”
	Lonnie didn’t move.  And never would again.
	Donnie reported the following day that his son had runaway—
	“Probably with that “whore” girlfriend of his.”  Lisa.
	Lisa took offense (but kept it to herself.)  Until, that is, hooking up with Rex.
	Days later, armed with some eggs; some good—some not so, they egged the man’s house and set a bag of dog doo on fire on the man’s doorstep.  Rex and Lisa then went on to become “boyfriend/girlfriend.”

*

	Went to a dance club last nite—they played the Twist—I twisted; they played Jump—I jumped; they played Come on Eileen—I got kicked out for that one.	

*

Kinda creepy
The Story of a Ghost
	Well, it finally happened—I went out on a blind date.
	Result?  Kind of enchanting—in a weird tectonic sort of way suffice it to say that there isn’t enough Guinness to make her a Two.  I’ve never been drunk enough to fuck a One and I don’t want to say she was Ugly—but she obviously fell out of the Ugly Tree—and hit every branch on the way down.  (and hit the Ugly Rocks and Ugly Roots, too!)
	However, she was a hoot.
	A Short Person (like myself) she was brash, rude, unclass, and hovered around 4’5” (1.3 meters).  She reminded me of someone who had gone headlong into a mule’s butt.  There was also a weird resemblance to my mother in-law!  (God rest her merry soul!)  We had been set up by a mutual friend.  Upon our first meeting—
	“I smoke!” she announced passionately.
	“I drink!” I returned vehementaly.
	So far so good.
	We met at a pub in a hotel here in Camden—she was brash, guff, and looked like something the cat dragged in, the dog ate (and crapped out!)  But there was some strange rapport that we had.  She smoked cigars—big ones!  A pint of Guinness was just an appetizer for her.  There was potential there!
	While having some shrimp cocktail she told some of the best dirty jokes I had ever heard.  She also had some odd wit, snappin’ pussy, and an interesting slant outlook on life itself.
	“The problem with the gene pool is—there’s no lifeguard!”
	“Eagles may soar—but weasels don’t get sucked into airplane engines!”
	“If you want a big rainbow—you have to put up with a little rain.”
	“Ninety-nine percent of lawyers give the rest a bad name.”

	Snappin’ pussy—just ‘cause we Little People are short in stature don’t mean we got the short end of the sex.  Harmony was indeed crass, brash, rude, sailor mouth, and truly uncouth.  But along with her bad mannerisms she had some charm; her eyes had a twinkle that drew me in.  A curious laugh about her, too; a chuckle that was akin to her spitting on life.
	After drinks and much ado about socializing,
	“You want come to my place?” she asked, “I’ve got some rot gut that’ll cook yer nuts!”
	‘Blimey!’
	She puffed on her cigar and awaited my reply.

	The whiskey was a Highland (Scottish) whiskey that not only cooked me nuts but boiled and seared them, too!  (curled the crinkly hairs of me pubes and virtually all but sealed up me arse hole!)
	I wanted to say “Smooooth!” after sipping the offering but it came out as “HOLY FUCKING DRAGON SHIT!” instead.  Harmony chuckled and slammed down her drink with only the smile on her lips as acknowledgement.  In her defense she had been drinking the stuff for a long-long-long time.  Long time.  Me hat’s off to ye Highlanders.
	Now, as fer me and my John Thomas—
	I’m one of the Little Folk coming in at 4’5” for me American friends.  So in the realm of big dicks—my Little Fellow cums up short.  About the size of a tampon.  But it works!
	And in Harmony’s pussy—wow!
	“I don’t take it up the ass!” she said flatly and firmly.
	She did, however, suck.
	Her sucking was just an appetizer—and she was capable of not only slurping on me wang but engulfing, too—me nuggets!  She was amazing!  Nice long flowing blondish hair—which turned out to be a wig.  She had hardly hair one on her noggin!  But with the Highland whiskey flowing in me veins I didn’t care.
	And as I stated earlier—there wasn’t enough Guinness to make her a Two; but there WAS enough Highland to bolster her to a Four!  She managed to smile and playfully pin me to the bed and mount me.  As she settled down upon me rod I had heart stopping visions of me just recently departed mother in-law!
	Thankfully, Harmony’s pumping on me disrupted that image and the fucking began.  With nimble finesse and did Harmony’s cunt swallow me pud.  Being a man I tried to take hold of the situation.  But Harmony’s pussy disallowed that and SQUEEZED the near life out of me schlong.  It was invigorating!  She had this nifty way of arching her body very nearly slurping in me nuggets!  Her pussy was not unlike that of a snake devouring its prey.  Try-try-try as I might I could not keep my eyes from fluttering.  I made some noises, too.
	I suppose that was one way for a gal like Harmony so unpleasant to look at in the sunlight/moonlight, and would make Ray Charles flinch, was to get her lover drunk!  And in my case, not so pleasant to look upon myself, drinking helps!
	We took a bath together; she smoked another big cigar and I swigged down more Highland.  Afterwards, we did the nasty on the bathroom floor.  Then we paraded about the flat buck naked drinking, smoking, farting, and fucking.  We slept on the sofa.
	A few hours later, after more lovemaking, drinking and smoking, she shared with me this nifty little story—and now I share it with you.

Large Marge
	At a large manufacturing plant just outside London, a very large woman worked on a shuffling jig—whereas product zooming by her on a 61 centimeter wide rubber belt was transferred to another belt zooming along in a different directions.  She was good at her job and had been doing so for years.
	At length came along a younger woman who took umbrance at Marge’s “way of doing things.” And the the way Marge did things was—messy.  Sometimes the product whizzing by Marge was not delicately transferred to the adjoining belt and it was up to the Upstart to straighten out said product.
	The Upstart made waves and complained to the foreman, Weasel.
	Weasel knew of Marge’s “untidy” ways and had tolerated the abuse for quite some time and was willing to put up with it (so long as no one complained.)  Well, someone complained.  Upstart.  Foreman Weasel placed Marge in another area of the plant, up higher (where he knew she was afraid of heights.)  Upstart replaced Marge where she had occupied that space ten years.
	Marge became depressed and her fellow workers gave Upstart the cold shoulder.  Marge considered quitting but the Human Resources agent, Kunt, talked her out of it and confronted Weasel who agreed to put Marge back on the main line.
	But before that could happen—Marge fell off the upper loft platform plummeting to the floor 7.5 meters below.  Upstart and Marge’s co-workers were heartbroken.  Upstart was sent to work the spot where Marge had been.  She didn’t like it but decided she had made enough “waves.”
	Then, some time thereafter and the lights of the factory began “flickering.”
	There was no reason electricians could find; all breakers and wiring were replaced—at great expense to the company.  And yet the lights continued to flicker—turn off and remain so while the electrical crew frantically sought to get them back on.  Meanwhile, up on the upper loft, Upstart sat in the dark—alone.  There, in the darkness, without air conditioning, all sorts of noises came to be—the rafters creaked all the time and was hardly noticeable by other factory workers.  But in the silence, in the dark, those noises seemed diabolical.
	Doors, too, became “stuck.”
	Belts sped up.  Products on the speeding belts “suddenly” flew off creating quite a mess.  Work stoppages on the line became commonplace—so much so that management became concerned and royally got onto Weasel.  “Fix it or your fired!”
	The final straw was one where Upstart was sitting up in the loft mindlessly doing her work sorting products as they whizzed by when just above her some two meters was a water trough used to cool hot products in an adjacent warehouse.

	Never in the forty years of production had there been a problem with the water trough—until that day.  Suddenly the metal straps holding the trough “snapped” and a trough section split at the seam dumping its water onto Upstart!
	She nearly fell.
	After the trough had been repaired (and Upstart abruptly quit), Weasel apologized—to Large Marge’s ghost.  On his knees, after hours, he begged and pleaded, wept, and sincerely apologized.
	The lights in the darkened factory “suddenly” came to life and the only belt sprang to life, too.  The belt where Marge had sat doing her work for ten years.  Then the lights dimmed and the belt stopped.  Weasel knew that his apology had been accepted and the shenanigans would stop.  Probably.
	And they did—the shenanigans.  But every now and then, years after the factory closed for good, the lights over the position where Marge sat for all those years would flicker to life—although there was no power to the factory!

*

A little Irish Logic
	A married Irishman went into the confessional and said to his priest,
	“I almost had an affair with another woman.”  
	The priest said, “What do you mean, almost?” 
 	The Irishman said, “Well, we got undressed and rubbed together, but then I stopped.” 
 	The priest said, “Rubbing together is the same as putting it in. You're not to see that woman again. For your penance, say five Hail Mary’s and put $50 in the poor box.” 
 	The Irishman left the confessional, said his prayers, and then walked over to the poor box. 
	He paused for a moment and then started to leave. 
	The priest, who was watching, quickly ran over to him saying, 
	“I saw that. You didn't put any money in the poor box!' 
	The Irishman replied, 
	“Aye, but I rubbed the $50 on the box, and according to you, that's the same as putting it in!”

	It’s come to me to know that most common folk fully believe that professional wrestling is real and the moon landing was faked!

	You know, no matter rich you are, you still go in the hole in the end.

*
Stains of cum for everyone!
	She was cute.  Nice small “apple” sized titties, a bit of body form, and a strong “possible.”  She also met his age criteria (although not set in stone).  Honey golden hair, a “swish” to her gait as she passed listlessly back and forth in front of Ed’s Convenient Store alongside a major freeway artery dissecting the state.  It was a remote setting being in amongst a large agricultural landscape.  Old warehouses (some in use and some abandoned) dotted the landscape, roadside fruit stands lined the off-shoot roads and Arthur Guiltmesh was captivated by the misplaced girl pacing the store.
	It was late afternoon with field workers milling about Ed’s.  A barbeque was off to one side; the store was up on a small hill oddly; lots and lots of old old cypress and misplaced elderberry trees were all about along with a pine tree here and a eucalyptus tree there.
	Residential neighborhoods were further along the bypass road; even older than the trees!  Roughneck neighborhoods, poor, piss poor, dirt poor; shacks and hotels turned into apartments, junkyards, recycling plants, cement plants, and small-small down home poor towns spanning both sides of the four-lane highway.
	The lone girl was way-way out of her territory.  She belonged much further up the highway just beyond the piss poor neighborhood areas but by no means “well off.”  She attended a private school, Catholic to be exact.  The girl (and the school) were in amongst the agricultural area, too, but in a slightly better off landscape.
	How she wound up at Ed’s wasn’t known.
	Arthur didn’t care.
	He waited.  His stomach growled; he had initially pulled off the highway to grab a bite to eat then be on his way to his “out of town” business meeting.  He wasn’t going to make it.  Priorities!
	His balls surged, his cock hardened, his fingers nervously tapped the hidden metal case containing the illegal-to-possess Mind Altering Device (electronic).  It would be only the second time he had used it.  He waited.  And waited.  The Subject moved nervously back and forth in front of the crumbling puke yellow stucco building.  The air was scented with fragrant wildflowers, honeysuckle, and manure (from the nearby manure manufacturing plant across the street.)  Barbeque also scented the air (along with beer and cigarette smoke.)
	Arthur sighed.
	He didn’t think the girl was a ruse, a set-up (as was now the common ploy of the day to nab those using those Mind Altering Devices that were illegal to possess.)  He betted that she was a virgin.  

	Guessing her age to be about thirteen he moaned and wondered what kind of panties she had on.  He regretted where he had parked his SUV; too close to the front of the store—but there were no security cameras outside.  Only inside at the beer cooler and cash register.  Knowing that he didn’t have a full comprehension of the workings of the EMAD he waited.
	But “waiting” wasn’t something he was good at.
	Slowly he moved the family vehicle to the other side of the store opposite the barbeque area where all the workers were milling about.  The girl subject was on the pay phone but there was apparently some sort of problem with the pay phone—it didn’t work right.
	‘Come to the truck.’
	To say the least and was Arthur nervous.
	What all the flicker lights and wavering needles on the indicators on the EMAD indicated meant he didn’t rightly know but with the small diode light “green” he guesstimated that he had Device-to-Mind contact.
	Minutes later and he was tooling down the agricultural rural road heading towards back country.  The Subject sat in the front passenger seat with her hair blowing in the air conditioning air.  All the lights on his Minding gizmo remained a solid “green.”  That was good.

	Miles away from “Ed’s” and the highway and Arthur found a pleasant spot enough to enact his deviltry.  The girl made no signs of acknowledgement of her predicament.  Not even when—
	‘Raise your legs.’
	Scooted with her butt to the edge of the seat the girl leaned her shoulders back into her seat; then, her legs raised back allowing Arthur to take a gander at her betwixt her legs.  She wore basic white panties.  No movements did she make as Arthur smoothed his fingers all about the crotch area—no movements whatsoever as he slipped his fingers inside the hem.
	More earnest fingering of the girl’s quim was made finally getting some reaction from the girl.  Nothing adverse, though.  Arthur continued to the point whereas he moved “Natalie” into the midsection of the SUV.  There the seat was put down and the naughty business began.
	Rolling her panties off and Arthur was enthralled.  His heart beat harder with the anticipation.  Lifting her legs he gawked at her nakedness; her pussy and asshole all one.  So nice!  Just a light covering of peach fuzz!  He was salivating!
	And soon he was naked.  Natalie’s clothing lay off to one side and he feasted on her thirteen year old titties.  So nice!  His cock ached.  She was a virgin.  Was.  Expertly and did Arthur guide his cock up and down her groove slowly pressing it into the slit.
	Natalie made a yelp as her hymen was breeched.
	Arthur cooed to her and drove his manly prick into her sex feeling increasing feelings seldom felt before.  Slowly he moved in (and out) fondling the girl’s breasts, tweaking her nipples and feeling a “want” that was quickly overwhelming him exponentially.
	As he put it to Natalie—he didn’t overly think of the sweet thirteen year old but of his own daughter, Kellie.  She was twelve and the day was cumming.  He was already disciplining her—harshly, by spanking her bare hand to bare ass followed up by good ole fashioned sodomy.
	But in her pussy was where he wanted to go.
	In her mouth, between her titties, all over her face, too.
	The torrid thoughts of lust against his daughter gave great cause for his cock to explode tenfold into Natalie’s broken-in cunt.  Arthur pumped furiously getting the girl to grunt and shriek.  The girl’s “awareness” was rising.  Too late.  And the girl’s ranting only excited Arthur; he pumped harder, faster, furiously until he had to pull out.  On doing so he slapped his meat stick against Natalie’s cunt.  Using her own panties he wiped his cock clean and then her soiled pussy.  The garment then was tossed out the window.
	Sweating profusely, panting, Arthur’s enthusiasm for his misdoing went on; hooking Natalie’s ankles together he hauled her legs up and then began spanking her.  A rain of wallops pelted the teen’s tender ass and her awareness level increased.  Too traumatized, though, was Natalie that she couldn’t properly fight back.  Her mind too inundated with confusing images that she was powerless.  Arthur turned her lily white ass a brilliant bright red.  Then, with her legs up along his semi tan chiseled chest, her ass angled just so—Arthur entered her equally virginal asshole.
	What ‘ho!  His cock bent and was not quite capable of penetration.
	So he fingered it.  One finger ALL THE WAY IN followed by squeezing in another and rotating the fingers in the girl’s anus until he thought of the emergency tool set under the seat.  Retrieving said set and he selected the screwdriver with the large grooved plastic head.
	Natalie hadn’t made much fuss about being “fingered.”  She did so when the foreign object went cramming its way into her hole.  The fussing the girl made only incited Arthur to wail on her ass some more.  It didn’t help the fussy girl to settle down, though.
	The screwdriver helped, however, pave the way for Arthur’s cock and with a devilish lust he penetrated Natalie’s backdoor and thoroughly sodomized her.  Natalie grunted as she was buggered.  Arthur sweated and continued to think of his daughter, Kellie. 

Home time
	For lying—a spanking.
	For lying about a lie—a spanking.
	Bad report card—a spanking.
	Breaking a window, breaking curfew—a spanking.
	Fighting—a spanking.
	Back talking—a spanking.
	All spankings were with a belt to a bare ass.
	Arthur’s maniacal dad usually stopped just short of drawing blood to his son’s ass.  He got belted to the back of his bare legs, too.  When Arthur’s dad died when Arthur was nigh but fifteen years young—Arthur lingered after the graveside services and when no one was in eyesight—dropped his pants and crapped on the gravesite.

	Twelve year old daughter, Kellie, was usually a good girl—but she had a habit of getting into mischief.  Hanging with girls who were predominantly inclined to “get into mischief”, being in one place where she was supposed to be somewhere else—and lying about it, an occasional bad report card, fibbing, and rough housing with her siblings.  All resulted in her pressed against her bed, pants (and panties) down and daddy Arthur wailing on her bare ass with his bare hand.
	 It was a thrill.  Smacking bare skin enthralled him.
	And after turning his daughter’s ass bright red—he fucked it.  Yep, he did.
	With Kellie pressed against her bed, her ass on fire, dear daddy carefully eased his daddy dong into her asshole.  In the beginning, when she was a bit younger, Arthur greased up his cock with anal lube.  As his daughter’s asshole got used to the repeated intrusions the lube was no longer necessary.
	Then one day, after spanking Kellie’s bare ass for getting into a fight with her siblings, the pre-teen turned about—kinda awkward with her pants and panties at her ankles.  Daddy Arthur got a cunt view of his daughter’s cunt.  His eyes feasted and he began to salivate.  Kellie kick free her pants and panties and scooted up onto her bed, spreading her legs.
	Their eyes locked.
	Arthur still viewed his daughter’s cunt.  It was fuckable.  Oh so fuckable!
	So he did.
	Shucking his pants he stood with an amazing erection—one that got Kellie to feast on.  Only sometimes did she saw her daddy’s dong; usually glimpses.  This was more than a glimpse.  It was seven inches, thick, long, hot, and pulsing with father/daughter love.
	Kellie fingered her pussy, clenched in anticipation and seemed willing to allow her daddy to fuck her.
	“You have to suck it, first.” Arthur cooed to her.
	This shocked Kellie.  Sure, she knew what a blowjob was and knew some girls who sucked off their boyfriends.  But her daddy was a boyfriend.  Batting her pretty brown eyes she slid off her bed and to her knees.  Mere inches separated her from her daddy’s bone.  She was schooled on the act of wrapping her fingers about the prong, squeezing the base, cupping the balls, and then introducing herself to his cock.
	“Kiss the head.” and “Flick your tongue to the piss slit.”  as well as “Roll your tongue around the crown.” followed by the follow-up of “down the shaft.”
	Kellie made some disparaging faces as she performed the introductory lessons on pre-suck and then sucking.  But she managed not to gag (or throw up) and preformed the blowjob to her daddy’s liking.  Afterwards, and Kellie was back up on her bed, shirt and bra off now, Arthur “went down” on her preforming orally on her.
	The girl squealed with delight; it tickled her and made her giddy.  She was embarrassed and of course knew it was not normal or natural for her daddy to lick her out like he was doing.  Of course, for her to willing strip for him AND suck his dick was also “not normal.”
	As soon as his cock was in her sex he felt the stirrings of explosions.
	Although he was supposed to be in control—he was not.  His cock was thrusting hard erupting continuous feelings ten-fold in the sensory world.  Was it the fact that the girl he was boning and deriving those ultra sensory feelings was a mere girl, not even a teenager?  Or the fact that it was his daughter?  A little from column A and some from the other realm of debauchery.
	It didn’t dawn on him until much time later that Kellie wasn’t so virginal when he put his tool in her.  All that mattered was his cock reeling in the tumultuous feelings of sexual wow.  It was a two-fold event—being a young girl and his daughter all one.
	When the deed was done he sat back on the floor watching his cum ooze out of his daughter’s pussy.  His mind was lambasted with thoughts confusing elements; sea waves crashing on a remote beach; the sound of a light breeze thru the boughs of tall pine trees; the swaying of tall grasses in a field.  Somewhat tranquil; but there, too, were sensory images invoking “smells”; like when he was a boy walking along a trail from his home to the nearby creek to cool off during the summer.  From his home, it was a good little walk, the trail that ran a few yards from a two-lane country road, passed by a pig sty.  A huge pig sty for a huge pig that resided therein.
	Rome the pig.

	Actually, the pig was a hog.  A big one.  He was usually covered in mud but his colours were splotchy black on a pinkish background.  He had one huge tusk and one huge broken tusk.  And often, strangely, he “sat” like a loafing human inside a ramshackled pen; there was questionable wood slats and such making up the pig sty; a trough for water and one for slop; then the shelter for where Rome slept.  But in an outside corner there was another shelter, smaller.  Rome liked to “sit” there like a lazy human grunting, farting, and eyeing all who passed by.
	Tall swaying grasses lined the outer area; along with bits of trash and clumps of foodstuffs often chucked at the disagreeable hog.  Other kids, usually teens, threw foodstuffs at the lumbering oafish hulk.  They teased him and Arthur felt sorry for him.
	“DON’T GET CLOSE!” warned Farmer Kang; he was an Asian fellow who owned the grunting/farting hog.
	Arthur’s dad upon catching his unwary son leaning against the wood slats beat the boy right then and there—stirring up the hog.  Arthur’s dad dragged his son home where in his bedroom he got the devil beat out of him and warned repeatedly to stay away from the hog.
	Arthur didn’t listen.  He felt that there was some rapport he had with Rome.
	Often when passing by he offered Rome some apples, carrots, raspberries, and caramel candy, peanut butter on cornbread, and bananas.  The setting of the sty, the trail, the creek, was one whereas it was stinky.  Very stinky.  And hot.  Hot and stinky.  It was the “stink” that wafted thru Arthur’s mind.  The smells of the sty, Rome, the mud, the shit, the very air itself.  He felt it; he could feel the heat, hear the bugs and insects in the tall sawtile grass, and “smell” the odiferous ambience of the great outdoors.

*

Insight
	With a backpack stuffed with potatoes, carrots, bananas, radishes, and a good mix of greens, peanut butter, young Arthur struck off for the creek half a mile from his home—making a brief stop at Rome’s sty.  The day was hot, humid, sticky and just right for splashing about a tree lined creek.
	Thing was, though, he didn’t rightly remember if he ever got to the creek OR fed Rome the contents of his backpack.  He couldn’t rightly remember anything after slipping out of the house and trekking across an open field.  The next thing that he DID remember was being inside a confined room.  His head hurt, his eyes were unfocused, and there was a continuing buzzing in his eyes.  Confusion reigned supreme in his mind.  It didn’t get any better.

	It was a little stifling in the strange room—strange ‘cause it seemed cramped and there were no windows.  There were, however, two girls present.  They were about ten years old—and naked!
	There wasn’t much light (and where the light came from young Arthur had no idea.) Slinging his head to clear it one of the girls spoke up in a hurried/desperate voice,
	“Do as he says!  Just do it!”
	“Right, whatever he tells you to do—do it!” said the second girl.
	“Who?” asked twelve year old Arthur.  And on cue a heavy black curtain opened and there was a man coming thru.  From where he was coming from was more light and Arthur got a glimpse of a someone else.  The girls gulped and were in great fear.
	The man spoke,
	“Take off your clothes.”
	‘Oh shit!’
	The boy looked to the girls and they were in great fear.  They both nodded their heads conveying “You better do it.”
	Arthur’s mind slowed and came to the realization that he had been kidnapped.  How, he wasn’t sure.  But the girls, they too had been kidnapped, and the other person behind the black curtain.  And there, too, was a curious smell lingering in the air.  It wasn’t like the summer heat wafting the funky odors from Rome’s home.  It was more unpleasant.
	Not sure what would befall him if he didn’t follow thru with the man’s command so he slowly stripped off his clothes.  It was embarrassing to get naked in front of a stranger—not to mention the two young girls.  When he slid his underwear off he was told,
	“Sit on your butt, spread your legs.” And hands to your sides.
	‘Shit.’
	“Stand up.” The man said to one of the girls.
	The girl, Kassie, stood up.  A nice looking girl with boobage; long straight blond hair, blue eyes, a little shape to her form, and not hair one on her pussy.  She was nervous, scared, frightened, and so much more.
	Arthur heard the words spoken from the man but couldn’t make sense of them:  “Suck his dick.”
	Blinking his eyes he stared at the naked ten year as she knelt down onto all fours and came to put her mouth down on his dick.
	‘What the fu—!?’
	The girl “expertly” gobbled on Arthur’s schlong.
	The man was asking questions; like,
	“Are you a virgin?”  and  “Ever suck dick?”  “Ever take dick up your ass?”
	Plus, “Do you jerk off?”  “Have you seen a girl naked before?”
	Arthur was too confused and confounded to answer.  Then the man asked,
	“Do you like getting your dick sucked?”
	That was a no brainer.  Arthur had never had his dick sucked before; he hadn’t played with it (jerked off) but had recently found the joys of humping his bed.  Of course his maniacal dad caught him and beat the hell out of (with a belt and bare hand.)
	As Kassie sucked, the other girl, Mya, laid out spreading her legs.  She began fingering herself catching Arthur’s attention.  The man had directed the girl to lay out and finger herself (which she did).  The man then began caressing Kassie’s ass flopping his hardened penis against her.
	Kassie began to grunt and Mya began to weep.
	Mya was a pretty girl; taller than most girls in her age group, long silky brown hair with some curls; brown eyes, small breasts, and unlike Kassie, there was a light covering of peach fuzz on her pussy.
	The man finished spanking Kassie’s ass with his dick and pulled her up to a sitting position.  Arthur saw the man’s penis up against the girl’s sex.  The look on her face was pure petrification.  The man asked another question,
	“You know how to eat out a girl’s cunt?”
	A girl’s cunt Arthur knew was her “pussy.”  He wasn’t that dumb or virginal.  But to “eat out” a girl’s cunt?  He wasn’t so sure on that one.
	“She sucked you,” said the man, “go down on her,” indicating Mya, “tongue her pussy—inside and out.”
	‘Sonofabitch!’
	Arthur’s eyes bulged and his cock—well, it was in business for itself.
	As his tongue lapped all about Mya’s “cunt”, the man smoothed his hand all about Arthur’s ass.  Arthur wasn’t so much into that and suddenly knew that he was probably more than likely going to get fucked up the butt.
	‘Sonofabitch!’
	On licking out Mya’s pussy—it was odd.  There was a strange “taste” to the deed; he tasted salt and what he guessed was pee.  He saw her asshole right there, too.  The fullness of the girl’s pussy and the full realization of what a girl’s pussy looked like as a whole.
	Then, after much licking and lapping,
	“Go ahead, now, fuck her.”
	For a moment he froze.
	‘Fuck?’  wow.

	Not an expert—unless you count bed humping “expert”, Arthur mounted Mya.  She parted her legs, cried a little, and helped guide Arthur’s schlong into her sex.  Natural instinct took over from there and suffice it to say, humping pussy was way better than humping his bed.  Way better.
	And cumming off in a girl’s pussy?  Much better, too.  He melted.  He virtually melted as his cock juice surged in Mya’s pussy.  He never thought sex could be so grand!  True, he was a little naïve in the matters of sex and its various acts and was only learning the joy of self-pleasuring.
	“Can you sit up?” the man asked.
	Arthur nodded.
	“Then do so.” He wasn’t gruff of mean vocally but serious in his voice.
	After sitting up (and his cock withdrawing from Mya’s cunt) another blast of ejaculate exploded from his piss slit.  Arthur melted once more.  That felt soooo good!  There was a lot of sperm all over the girl’s pussy and more kept expelling from Arthur’s schlong.  The boy had “expelled” such goo usually on his bed giving his Mom the thought that her son was pissing the bed.  That warranted his dad to beat him even more “No twelve year old son of mine is going to be a bed wetter!”
	The man goaded the other girl, Kassie, to perch herself onto her friend’s face.  Arthur stared at this new scene—Kassie, naked, sitting square on Mya’s face!  Then, Kassie laid down and began playing with Arthur’s cum soaked cock.
	She also began licking up the spilled spunk on Mya’s cunt!
	The man patted Kassie’s ass—then spanked it causing the girl to yelp.
	Underneath and Mya began to weep uncontrollably.
	Arthur was frightened (along with his confusion.)
	Then, to Arthur’s beleaguered eyes, Kassie began sucking his cock!
	She retched, gagged, and very nearly threw up.
	After a couple of minutes and Arthur noted the girl was moving—back and forth as she continued to suck him.  Looking to the man and he was positioned behind Kassie and was bumping against her.  The girl grunted, cried, and carried on but continued to suck Arthur until he filled her mouth with more of his cum.
	The man grabbed the girl’s hips and began bumping against her harder and faster.  Arthur’s cock went up against Kassie’s face and he thought he heard,
	“Suck his balls!”
	Then, although there was dismal lighting, Arthur saw the man’s cock sliding into Kassie’s body.  He wasn’t sure what “hole” he was in—pussy hole or ass hole, but he was IN a hole pumping/banging fast and furious.  The girl and the one beneath wept uncontrollably.  Arthur was confused but felt the situation intense.
	The man pulled away from Kassie smacking her ass with his saucy cock.  The girl wept and was inconsolable.  The man pulled her up to him fingering her pussy kind of roughly.  He whispered,
	“Do you want spanked?”
	To wit the girl wailed “NOOOOO!  Please NO!”
	“Come here.” The man said to Arthur.  Slowly he complied.  There was just enough light for the boy to see—to see Kassie’s cum slathered asshole and a generous gob of cum drizzling out of it.  The hole was slowly closing oozing out even more cum.
	‘Sonofabitch!’
	“Fuck her.” The man whispered to Arthur.  “Your choice of hole.”
	Arthur began to feel more and more uneasy.  His mind was still confused; he still couldn’t remember how the hell he had come to be “wherever” it was he was.  The man smacked Arthur’s ass as he hesitated.
	‘Choice of hole.’ the man had said.  Her pussy or her fresh fucked asshole.
	Arthur could just see Kassie’s pussy.  He felt a little suddenly ill; it was kind of hot in the enclosed room.  Poking his way into the girl’s asshole kinda grossed him out—the man’s cum was there!  Ewewewe!
	Slowly—slowly—s-l-o-w-l-y and did young Arthur slid his cock in Kassie’s cunt.  The man, right up behind him, caressed his ass and “reached around” to fondle the boy’s balls.  And right underneath was Mya!  She wept uncontrollably, twisted her young body, and had extreme restless legs.
	Soon and the young boy was pumping like he knew how.  It felt good.  It felt extremely good!  He pumped faster and faster; harder and harder.  The man was pressed right up against him from behind, smacking his hips and tugging on his slapping ball sac.
	Then the most dramatic explosion Arthur had ever had happened.
	He contorted and was no longer in control of himself.  Such happenings regarding the sensations of his cock.  A tingling feeling like no other!  It was like his hand had gone to sleep—but it was his cock and the feeling of “sleep” was ten times more!  He could feel the surge of his cum squirting thru his dick and jutting out his piss slit.  A gush of cum washed his balls.  Rivers of sweat poured down his body and he was drained.
	His cock, however, remained stalwartly hard-hard-hard.
	Sitting back he gawked at HIS cum oozing out of Kassie’s pussy.
	“Wow.” he breathed.
	“Lick it clean.” the man said.
	At first and Arthur thought the command was directed at him.  Luckily, no.
	Mya cried more and more, sniveled and said “That’s so gross!” and when she didn’t rightly comply, the man grabbed her ankles, locked them together, and hauled them up—all while still poised behind Arthur.  Then, he began to wail on the young girl’s bare ass causing her to twist violently and scream her distress.
	Meanwhile, Kassie had managed to smear Arthur’s sperm onto her face.
Wait!  There’s more!
	Although Mya was in great distress; her tender ten year old ass red as vine ripened tomato, young Arthur found himself strangely—aroused.  He felt sorry for her distress but his cock was in such a tingling sensation brought on by the abuse that he found himself greatly horny.
	Then the man locked eyes with Arthur.  The boy had been staring at the still twisting Mya, eyeing her reddened ass and bald pussy.  Then he eyed Kassie’s nakedness and had a desire to fuck her—again!
	Locking eyes with the creepy man, though, unsettled him.  Dark hair the man had, short with a bit of grey at the temples and a short “wave” in front.  A stone face, no emotion whatsoever.  And cold dark unfriendly eyes.  It unnerved Arthur and made him uncomfortable.  Then,
	“Come.” The creepy man moved the dark curtain partition beckoning the boy to move thru.  He did.  Nothing could have prepared him for what lay beyond.
	A woman was on her back; naked.  Her hands were tied up with leather straps above her head.  A gag with a red ball was in her mouth.  Her legs were bound by leather straps up and outward in such a way that prevented her from slinging her knees together to keep the man from doing what he had done to her.
	As Arthur settled on his knees he locked his blue eyes to the woman’s pussy.
	She was in her late 20s thereabouts, a television personality, very pretty, and in great peril.  Her pussy had been shaven—along with the hair on her head.  She had very round cantaloupe sized titties and a very trim lithe body.
	Arthur’s eyes couldn’t leave her bald pussy.  There was just enough light bathing the young woman to reveal a tattoo on her cunt.  No, it was not a tattoo.  Not at all.  It was, in fact, the mark of a brand.  A brand likened to be used to mark ownership of cattle, horses, other assorted livestock.
	That was where the acrid/putrid smell had come from.  Burning flesh.
	The young woman was out of her mind.
	Not only had she been kidnapped, raped, sodomized, spanked, had her head and pussy shaven—she had been branded, too!
	“Fuck her.” the creepy man said to Arthur.
	Arthur’s cock was hot and hard but he was creeped out by the situation.
	“You’d rather be spanked?”
	Arthur felt a huge freak out lunging in his soul.  His maniac father beat the shit out of him (with a belt usually) and in no way did he want the same from the freaky-creepy man.  So, breathing hard and trying to keep himself together he moved up between the woman’s outstretched legs.  Inserting his cock into the branded pussy caused a shivering of emotions—all confusing ones.  The realization that he was indeed in deep shit came over him.

	And like Kassie and Mya—there was only compliance.
	‘Do what he tells you!’ they had said.  Do what he tells you or you get spanked.  The image of Mya’s burned ass filled his mind.  He tried to blot out the abuse she had suffered with pumping.  The woman beneath him languished in her turmoil; delirious and no longer fit for civilization.
	As Arthur pumped—he was spanked.  Not too hard but he felt it.  The creepy abusive man used his hands and when after Arthur had cum,
	“I’ll give you a choice, lick her clean—or suck my dick!”
	Some choice!
	There was no way that Arthur was going to suck a man’s dick.  No way!
	But the licking clean of the woman’s pussy?  His own cum?
	As stated—some choice!
	“Lick it, suck it, or get spanked!” re-stated the creepy man.  From beyond the black curtain the two girls could still be heard crying and sniveling.  Arthur closed his eyes and “went down” on the woman and her cum laden pussy.
	He retched.
	He gagged and felt extremely sick.
	When the deed was done he sat up and somehow managed to keep himself from spewing.  The creepy deranged man called for one of the girls, Kassie.  (Another reason Arthur decided on licking out the woman’s pussy was the fact that the deranged man’s cock had just previously been up Kassie’s butt hole!)
	Kassie was directed to sit on the woman and lay down.
	“Fuck her.” Arthur was told.
	As Arthur did so—the deranged crazed fucked up man masturbated.  Right beside them!  He also smacked Arthur’s ass, grabbed his balls and yanked them up between his legs.  It was insane!  Arthur didn’t know how much more he could take.  Turns out—not much.
	After he got off getting off in Kassie’s pussy he sat back and watched as the crazed lunatic smiled and produced a long handled pole with a flat metal design at the end.  It was an electric branding iron, a cattle prod modified for the man’s personal use.  
	As Arthur sat in bewilderment—the man pressed the iron to Kassie’s cum stained pussy.
	The freaked the fuck out.
	The air was suddenly filled with burning flesh.  There was a curious sizzling sound and young Kassie was out of her mind.  After she had laid down on the woman the crazed man used leather straps to secure her to the woman’s wrists and ankles.  She was immobilized and all her ranting and raving did nothing.  At length she lay quivering as her young pussy was burned.

	‘This motherfucker’s crazy!’ thought Arthur.
	The man then took a turn himself at raping Kassie.  He did so slowly and methodically.  Arthur watched and no longer felt sexually frenzied.  He wanted to be away—far-far-far fucking away from the crazed lunatic.  There was something terribly-terribly fucking wrong with the man.  Terribly fucking wrong.
	“Go fuck the other girl.” the crazed man said.
	Arthur moved thru the curtain.  Mya knew what had happened to her friend.
	She was a cutey—round face, small eyes, small teeth, very pretty girl with a flat chest but a nice butt.  Arthur suddenly felt knightly and knew that he had to do something.
	“He said I have to—”
	Mya nodded whispering “I know.” and parted her legs.  Arthur positioned himself between her legs and inserted his penis.
	“We gotta get outta here.” he whispered.
	On the other side of the curtain and Kassie could be heard grunting—along with weeping and wailing.  It was then Arthur, while screwing Mya, noted the surroundings.  It wasn’t a room like a bedroom but the inside of a vehicle—a van!
	Continuing to fuck, Arthur looked quickly and desperately for a door.
	And he found it!
	He knew, though, that opening the door would alert the crazed man.  He would have to wait for opportunity.

Desperate in the night
(opportunity!)
	The surge came; Arthur apologized.  Mya clung to him, wept, and clung to him some more.  The usual good feeling of cumming was diminished slightly by the insanity of the situation.  Still, though, he pumped to the end then pulled out and rested his cock on the girl’s pussy.
	“We gotta get outta here.” he hoarsely whispered to the girl.
	Mya nodded.  The horrible stench of burnt flesh hung lifeless in the air prompting Arthur to follow thru with that plan.  But he would have to wait.  Beyond the black curtain partition and he was spanking someone; Kassie.  She was wailing, crying, begging “Please, stop!”
	Mya buried her head into Arthur’s chest and wept silently.
	At length and the crying (and spanking) ceased.  Arthur didn’t know what to think.  He knew he had to escape; the question remained, though—alone?  He knew going alone and he would probably be alright.  Saddled with the girls, though, might hinder his attempt.  But he didn’t think he could leave them alone with the crazed insane man.

	Some time later and—
	“I have to pee.”
	Arthur sighed.  He was laying partially on the girl, on his side against her.  It was dark—damn dark.  The crazed insane man had turned off the lights.  Regardless, there was ambient light coming in from somewhere.  Arthur’s eyes had adjusted but it was still—damn dark.
	Shrugging, Arthur whispered “Go ahead.”
	There was a pause and then—she was peeing!  On him!
	Mya wept but Arthur cooed to her, “It’s alright.”
	After a few more minutes they heard a strange sound; then,
	“He’s snoring!” Mya said.  “Like my dad.”
	Arthur nodded, sometimes his dad snored loudly too, like a freight train.
	Licking his lips and knowing full well that there would be consequences for his actions; but if he did do something, take advantage of the moment, the likelihood of the crazed man to brand Mya was likely.  The crazed fucker might even brand him!  That notion motivated Arthur to risk fate; he moved up to the side wall and felt around until he determined what a door was.  There was an instep giving Arthur the clue that they were in a van possibly.
	Then he found the door latch.
	His heart beat hard in his chest—so much so that he thought surely the crazed insane fucker would hear.  With extreme trepidation he moved the chrome latch.
	KLATCH! The handle made as it dislodged the door locking mechanism.
	Arthur froze.  More noises would come.  He had merely unlocked the door; dislodging it from its locking mechanism would be next and then—then sliding it open enough for him and Mya to escape.  There would be no chance in taking Kassie with him.  That was disheartening, but on the upswing it was hoped to find help and THEN rescue the unfortunate girl—and woman.
	With extreme caution and even more extreme slowness, Arthur every so slowly and as carefully as possible opened the van’s sliding door.
	One inch.
	Straining his ears he could still hear the man snoring.
	Fresh air hit Arthur’s face; pines and cedars; wild flowers, stinkweed, ragweed, herb heather, wild roses, and mint.  They were nowhere near where he had last remembered being.  That was a bummer.  He had no idea, then, where he was or how close the nearest help was.
	Two inches.
	Lots of stars and most of all—a big bright moon!  That would help in their daring flight.  He wished, though, to find his bearings.  If he was in strange landscape then fleeing was going to a chore—especially with a girl!
	Three inches.
	Something familiar wafted along in the fragrant air.  Just what remained to be seen.  He let his eyes continue to adjust to the outside.  Then, fear—he couldn’t hear the crazed man’s snoring.  That wasn’t good.  He knew that if caught in the act of escaping the man would go ape shit crazy (crazier) on him—and probably take it out on the others, too.  Probably.
	Four inches.
	It was a risk but he pushed the door open more testing the bare width with his body.  Another inch or so was needed.  Mya was quiet and he wasn’t sure if she was even there, aware, ready, or what.  He couldn’t call out to her for fear the insane man would hear.
	Five inches.  Six inches—the door slid effortlessly open two inches and it was good enough.  Snaking out his hand he found Mya’s hand and pulled her to him.  On the way out he banged his knee against the door.  On crying out in pain it was Mya who clamped her hand to his mouth.  Stepping out and there was gravel beneath their feet.
	“Which way?” asked a terrified Mya.
	“Doesn’t matter.” Arthur replied.  But he saw a lodge pole fence and lots of bushes.  Waist high grass was all about and the air was overly heavily scented with the great outdoors.
	“Come on, we’re outta here!”
	“Kassie?”
	Arthur looked to the naked girl.
	“We cant get her,” he explained, “she’s underneath that fucktard.”
	Mya’s lower lip trembled, “She’s my friend!”
	There was no way he could get Kassie.
	“We’ll have to get help, quick, so THEY can rescue her.” He then tugged on the girl’s hand pulling her towards the fence.  Mya looked back to the van then crawled thru the fence.

Fuck it, we’re lost!
	The pain to his knee was nothing compared to the pain to his bare feet.  Running naked thru a meadow in the middle of the night had hazards—rocks, pebbles, and stickers, to be specific.  The bright full moon helped—sorta/kinda.  It was dark—damn dark, and cold.  Just half an hour of pure adrenaline running and the pair of escapees paused finally to catch their breath.
	Then they realized it was cold.
	‘Maybe we coulda grabbed our clothes?’

	Nothing nowhere could Arthur see to help him with the knowing of where he was.  He would have to wait until daylight and that didn’t look like to happen any time soon.  So, he huddled with Mya, shivered, and fell asleep with sheer exhaustion.  Mya whimpered herself to sleep.

	 A noisy blue jay awoke them.
	Mya clung to Arthur; the boy looked thru bleary eyes trying in vain to get a bearing.  Lots of trees.  Pines and cedars, a lot of meadow, and not much else.  From his home there were farmlands, lots of farmlands.  Some open meadows, open fields, the creek that dissected some woods; not much else.
	Taking Mya’s hand they made their way thru the meadow where the grasses therein were just high to them.  There were birds chattering all about plus an owl.  Heavily scented was the air with the pines and wild roses.  At one point and Mya had to stop to pee.  Arthur did as well.  Mya squatted (when she could have just as easily stood and relieved herself.)
	“Do you know where we are?” Mya asked.
	“Yeah,” Arthur said sheepishly, “we’re in a meadow.”
	Mya conveyed unto him ‘You’re soooo not funny.’
	Hand in hand they continued onward.

	The sound of machinery got Arthur’s attention.  He wasn’t sure what it was but it was noise; manmade.  Figuring out where it was coming from was another thing.  The sound of bees buzzing motivated Arthur and his companion to scramble thru the meadow merging to a grassland (that was the deep end of an alfalfa field.)
	“Hmmm,” drawled Arthur, “could be Mr. MacDonald’s farm, or Mr. Whatsinaname.”
	There was no roads, no identifiable landmarks of any kind.
	Moving left and the two came upon an orchard of apples.  They were delicious!  There were plenty for the both of them and they ate heartily.
	“Do you know who’s farm this is?” Mya asked.
	“Hmmm, could be Mr. McGrowsome OR Ms. Igotgrabs.”
	Moving thru the orchard they found the source of the machinery heard earlier—a water pump contraption pulling water up from way beneath the ground filling an above ground cement cistern.
	Thru the orchard, walking hand in hand, naked, the two found a road.  There was a wooden fence beyond and some grazing cattle and horses in the adjacent field.  The heavy scent of roses, wildflowers, wild catnip and wild herb heather.
	The kids fed some apples to the friendly horses.
	“Do you know who’s they are?” Mya asked.
	“Could be Mr. Humpsadoddle’s or Mr. Whackamole’s.”
	Mya gave him a look ‘you have no idea where we are, do you?’
	Moving along the dirt road they suddenly heard a noise—a vehicle was coming.  Arthur grabbed Mya practically throwing her the fence.  The huddled amongst the tall grass and shrubs as a van slowly came along.
	It was a dark purple van, modern day type with an extended cargo area.
	The front window was dirty and the sun glinting on it obscured any attempt at seeing who the driver was—the passenger side window was up, tinted, and dirty, too.  The vehicle moved slowly by.
	“Is it that crazy man?”
	Arthur shook his head and shrugged, “Couldn’t see, don’t know.”
	The kids remained huddled long after the van was out of sight.

	The sound of voices got their attention; they proceeded with caution, however, coming up on a pond Arthur didn’t know about.  There wasn’t anyone around and the voices had stopped.  There were a couple of extinguished campfires and lots of trash—beer cans, empty whiskey bottles, condoms, discarded panties, and a very well beaten up tattered plush toy monkey that wasn’t so plush.
	“Here,” Arthur said with a meek smile, “this is for you.”
	Mya took the offering and it didn’t matter that the monkey was missing fur, an eye, and was grimy, it was a gift.
	“Thank you!” she said in all earnest and she hugged her naked knight greatly.  Arthur hugged Mya then sheepishly departed making for the pond.  He wanted to barrel jump in but wasn’t sure of the depth.  He also didn’t want to make a big splash and alert someone he didn’t want alerted.  So he waded in finding that the pond sloped.  When he got up to his chest and the “slope” continued he stopped and made way back to where it was safer.
	Mya had come in and was well relieved from the blistering summer heat.
	He didn’t know what time it was but it was midafternoon—or thereabouts.
	Mya swam about with her monkey clutched tightly to her.
	Arthur thought about his parents.  His Mom would be worried and concerned.  His Dad?  Not so much.  His Dad would be pissed and blame him for whatever had happened to him—and then be apt to beat him and assume he had been laying out sleeping rather than being kidnapped.
	He was thankful that he hadn’t had to suck the man’s dick OR get fucked up the ass.  That would suck.  Regardless, his Dad would be as maniacal as the crazed fucked up insane man.  It was disheartening if not discouraging.  Going immediately home, then, was out.  He had to make for the sheriff’s office.
	First!

	The voices returned—and they were close!
	Arthur and Mya slipped out of the water and nakedly stole into the woods slinking, ducking, crawling trying to determine where the voices were coming from.  And as suddenly as the voices had come—they were gone.
	Out of the woods and back to the dirt road.  Across the road and a rooster greeted them crowing (in the middle of the day!)  Some cows were grazing but there were no horses.  A small orchard of pomegranate trees there were nearby.
	Mya looked to Arthur.
	“Hmmm, could be Angus Lowbelow’s farm, Mr. Huckabuck’s, OR Ms. Nellie Imgiddy.  She makes the best pomegranate pies ever!”
	Mya wasn’t a fan of pomegranate.
	“You have no idea where we are, do you?”
	“Well, we COULD be south of Pine Meadows, or West of Dawgood Woods, OR somewhere around the end of Barksalott Meadows.”
	Mya sighed and looked discouraged.
	Shrugging and he moved on down the road with Mya beside him.

	At length they came upon an open field of sunflowers.
	“Whose are these?” Mya asked—knowing full well her gallant knight had no idea.
	“Uhm, could be Ernie Moecurlie’s field.” But she was right, he had no idea.  He had never seen a field of sunflowers.  “Might be Mr. Dickbiggers place.”
	“Or?” wise cracked Mya.
	“Orrrr,” drawled Arthur, “orrrrr,” he shook his head and looked dejected, “fuck it, we’re lost.”
	“That’s ok,” Mya said softly, “as long as I’m with you it’ll be ok.” She took his hand and they continued their search to be found.

Fuck it, let’s fuck!
	Voice drew the pair thru some thick grass and, bushes, and trees to bring them to an eye opening sight.  Down in a small hill at a remote campsite was an old man and a young girl.  There was a camper truck, some fishing poles leaned against it, an ice chest on the ground and one on a picnic table.  The “old man” was probably in his late 60s, not too tall and with a bit of a pudge.
	The old man wore a sea merchant captain’s cap along with a one piece bib overall outfit.  The girl wore a light blue checkered shirt (that was unbuttoned.)  She was about ten or so, flat chested (but she had some “mounds.”)  She also had some short knee length britches, blue in color.  They were off on the picnic table’s bench by the ice chest.
	A pair of yellow panties dangled off of her left ankle.
	“Oh my God!” whispered Mya.  The old sea captain had his manhood out of his overalls and was putting it to the young girl—who was his granddaughter.  The girl slung her head side to side; a so-so pretty girl; rich thick brown hair, full and with heavy uncut bangs.  She made no attempts at stopping the man from doing what he was doing.  She seemed to be tolerating it!  The man pulled out and spanked the girl’s hairless pussy, then plunged his dick back in and pumped tenaciously.
	As Arthur and Mya watched—Arthur got hard.
	He was hot, tired, thirsty, hungry, “lost”, and now—horny.
	The old man did his thing; it was so evident when he pulled out of the girl again a long ropey strand of cum was from his dick to the girl’s pussy.  He glided his cock up and down the girl’s slit before raising her right leg angling her body so as he could poke his way into her asshole.
	The girl didn’t seem to be too much into that route and did put up a bit of a fuss.  He coulda had his way if he really so inclined to do so but he let it go and stepped back to fondle his cock; he was gleaming (along with sweating) all the while.  The girl sat up and had a displeasing look upon her round stoic face.  She watched as her grandpa masturbated.  Then slowly she eased off the rickety table pulling up her panties.  Just then—
	The door to the camper opened and a black boy hoped out.
	He was naked.
	His cock was hard and dripping with cum.
	“Was it good?” asked the old man.
	“Goddamn, it was great!” exclaimed excitedly the boy.
	The girl shook her head sadly.
	The old man made eye contact with the girl conveying something.
	Reluctantly she obliged him and removed her panties and then her shirt.
	A nod from the old man and the girl (Kayleen) positioned herself back onto the table.  The old man “Noel” made eye contact with the boy, “DJ”.  Happily the boy went to Kayleen, climbed up on her—a little awkward and clumsily—and eased his mamba into the girl’s pussy.  While they fucked the old man peeked into the camper—still masturbating by the way.
	A little girl about five years young, long-long brown hair, naked, appeared.  She leaped into the masturbating man’s outstretched arm.  They kissed and he seriously copped a feel of her ass.  The black boy was fucking up a storm.
	As DJ fucked his friend, Kayleen, the old man watched with some sadistic glee.  His cock was all the harder and he stepped up to DJ’s pumping ass and gave it a feel.  Cupping the boy’s balls between his legs he enjoyed himself until the boy got his orgasm.

	Kayleen didn’t look overly pleased.
	DJ dismounted.
	Kayleen eyed her grandpa and little sister, then collected her clothes and somewhat stomped off to the camper closing the door.  Noel shook his head; DJ chuckled and played with his skin flute.  Noel placed the little girl, Nellie, on the table then made tracks (dick still out) to the camper.
	DJ and Nellie talked and DJ got a soda out of the ice chest for the both of them.  Mya whimpered—she so wanted an ice cold soda, too.  So did Arthur.  He had misgivings about just “waltzing” into the campground.  He didn’t know how it would go.  He figured that it would probably be alright and probably better than the crazed fucking lunatic that had kidnapped them.
	But he wasn’t sure.
	He could just see Mya laying out on the table getting fucked by the old man and the girl piping “Some rescue!”
	After a few sips of his soda the naked black boy went to the camper, opened the door carefully and peered in.  He nodded his head and began methodically to please himself.  Spanking could be heard from within with Kayleen crying,
	“Alright, alright, I’ll do it!”
	‘Do what?’ was unknown but Arthur guessed something naughty.
	DJ went inside the camper to apparently “join in”.
	Arthur shook his head, “Moving on.”

 	Mya was quiet for a long while; after snagging some drinks, sandwiches, and chips from the ice chest the pair stole back into the woods coming to a creek.
	“Whose creek is this?” wise cracked Mya.
	“It could be Silver Creek or Adder Creek.” replied Arthur paying no heed to her wise mouth.  The kids dangled their hot dirty feet into the cold refreshing water and enjoyed their lunch.
	Arthur had on his mind the old man screwing his granddaughter.  Then the black boy doing her!  And though he hadn’t seen the little girl getting boinked he imagined it and was suddenly hard-hard-hard.  He couldn’t believe it—the black boy (DJ) fucking that little girl (Nellie.)  She was nigh but five years old!  And Arthur assumed that the dirty old man (Noel) was probably screwing her, too!
	Out the corner of his eye he caught Mya staring at him.  Specifically his hard-hard (hard) cock.
	“Oh, sorry.” he said being embarrassed and placed his open hand over his boner.  “I-I was just thinking—”
	“Yeah,” giggled Mya (with some disproving seriousness) “and I know who about, too!”
	Arthur blushed—then continued to please himself.
	“So, that feels good, huh?” Mya asked.
	Arthur nodded that it did.  He seemed in agony—and he was.  Self-pleasuring was one thing (and a good thing.)  But it sure as fuck was better “pleasuring” inside a girl’s pussy!
	“What?” asked Arthur noting Mya’s continued staring.
	Now it was her turn to be embarrassed.  She shrugged, farted, then spread her legs and commenced to peeing into the creek.  Arthur sat up to watch.
	“I’ve never seen a girl pee before.” he said.
	Mya spread her legs wider giving her companion a way better look.
	The Up Close and Personal viewing of Mya’s cunt in the daylight was way better than in the dark(ness) of the van.  A shudder suddenly gripped him and he shook it away not wanting to think about that horror.  He focused on Mya’s bald pussy and hammered his cock all the more.
	“Do you want to put it in me?” she asked somewhat sheepishly.
	Arthur stared at her blankly.  He did.  He did—he did—he oh so did (want to “put it in her.”)
	With no further words spoken the boy moved onto the willing girl slowly easing his throbbing hard prick into her submissive cunt.  He felt the stirrings of orgasmic blast off almost instantly.  He managed to hold off and begin the pumping.  Concentrating on her pretty face helped stave off blowing his load too soon.  He then kissed her.
	It just happened.  It seemed right and there was no stopping—he leaned in and although he was taller there was the angle of the dangle and his lips pressed against hers.  Mya didn’t stop him and natural instinct enveloped them both.  They kissed passionately and even found out about French Kissing!
	Rolling on the mossy bank of the creek they engaged in hot-hot lovemaking.  And at one point—Mya was on top!  This was ok by Arthur, he was able to clamp his hands to her butt and squeeze.  He also squeezed off a load of spunk, too!
	Into the creek itself they went splashing about and finding out that you COULD fuck under water!  It was awkward but they did it.  But it was better doing the naughty on the bank—so that was where they went fucking-fucking-fucking.
	Then they heard voices again.

That’s a gangbang?
	On a sturdy picnic table, Nora Bloodgrab sang a song acapella; a 1960s type song that was heartfelt and moving.  Her companions all stood (naked by the way) listening.  Afterwards and the naked singer received her accolades—and a blowjob.  The singer was a blond, dirty blond in super curls, short, with multicolored highlights throughout.

	Another female was with super long dark brown hair; no highlights.
	Three male members of the troupe masturbated including the one who “went down” on the singer.  The singer, Nora, was very nice—ski slope style titties a little on the small side considering her age to be “young adult.”  Regardless, her sharp upturned nose, clean-clear complexion, small mouth/lips, and dazzling blue eyes made her a pin-up girl style hottie from all eras past and present.
	Not one hair had she on her pussy.  Whether the man going down on her liked to floss or not was not clear but he munched Nora’s cunt with great delight, then stood up and inserted his cock where his tongue had been.  Nora laid back reeling in the good fuck about to proceed.
	The other gal giggled and fingered herself; she had nipple piercings as well as one on her clit!  A tattoo of a dragon was on her left shoulder blade while a soaring eagle was on the other.
	As Nora received her fuck a naked black gal emerged from the woods—she had to “commune” with nature.  ‘nuff said.  She was pretty; about 2meters/6ft tall, very slender, round globes also on the small side, and very nice creamy light chocolate skin.  Her hair was typical 1980s style afro.  She was adorned with a few baubles and dangling trinkets.
	After the gangly dude with the mowhawk AND mullet finished his fuck with Nora, the tall lanky dude took his turn.  Sloppy seconds!  He was tall, over 2meters/6ft.  Very slender, muscular, farm boy.  He slid his manly manhood into the Singer and began pumping immediately.  The Mowhawk/mullet farmboy got his dick sucked by the black gal.
	“Taste Nora’s pussy!” he jeered.
	The black gal sucked hungrily and frigged herself as she did so.
	It was quite a scene for the spying Arthur and Mya.  Their mouths hung open as they watched the orgy displayed before them.  Never in their young lives had they seen such a thing or even heard of such.  The gal who had sung her song with musical accompaniment or even the others joining in lay flat on her back with her legs up along the black man’s chest.  He was pumping like it was the last thing he was going to do.  The Mowhawk/mullet man was doggie styling the black gal as she was on all fours licking out the pussy of the long brown haired gal sitting on the picnic bench her arms entangled with Nora’s.
	Thereafter, they all smoked some pot, drank beer and whiskey, yapped and yapped and giggled about what the spying kids had no idea.  The Mowhawk/mullet man stood and did some sort of weird bizarre dance, flopping his junk all about like he was on fire.
	At length the naked naughty group passed out.
	Arthur and Mya moved on.

That’s a tree, with a partridge in it!
	“These are Murr Woods.” Mya said factly.
	“How you know that?”
	Mya shrugged, “Oh, I dunno,” chuckling she smiled, farted, and kept the knowledge of how she knew to herself.
	Passing thru the woods (and tacked to an elm tree with a faded yellow metal sign reading “These are Murr Woods”) the kids followed a creek and a trail that ran along beside it.  Then, more voices—

	Two women lay out on the ground; a mother and daughter.  Lots of heavy dense trees about, huge boulders, Silver Creek was nearby (or it could be Adder), mostly flat ground, and the remains of a picnic table in a large firepit.
	Two naked dope smoking lanky crazed eyed pothead hippies stood masturbating and gleaming at the two naked women.  Both women were spread eagled, tied securely to wooden stakes, and almost as fucked up as the two naked leering men.
	Shirley Partridge and her seventeen year old daughter had been on a nature walk for the weekend; camping out and doing well for themselves without the help of any MENFOLK.  Shirley was a good egg; she was hip, with it, and “cool.”  A woman who would have fit right in the 60’s era the modern day 39 yr old enjoyed life; a mom, advocate for Save the Trees, Save the Park, Save the Coupons she found solace in her family of five—minus a husband who had passed away unexpectedly.
	She was a soccer mom, PTA troublemaker, worked as a bartender and lounge singer, and smoked pot with her two oldest children.  She was hip!  Laurie was her oldest daughter, there was another who was merely five.  Then there were three boys, the youngest seven, the oldest eighteen with a middle boy at twelve.  As usual in families of boys and girls there was the argument of Sexes—who was better at cooking, barbequing, home repairs, mowing, driving, that sort.
	And it so came to pass that the boys determined that they were better at camping than girls.  Shirley and Laurie begged to disagree and determined to prove it by camping out for the weekend.  (they shoulda stayed home and did laundry!)
	After smoking some pot the two encountered Seven Upp and Dooty Dugdeep.  The two hillbilly miscreants were stoned.  They were also armed; having been on a search for a monnshine still and being that was an illegal business it was a wise thing to be armed.
	Shirley and Laurie were not armed and caught off guard.
	“Woooo-eeee!” chimed Seven, “Looky whats we gots us ‘ere!”
	Shirley and Laurie were instantly frightened with Laurie pissing herself.

	“Gonna be a good day after all!” seethed Dooty.
	The two men sized up the two women—then ordered them to take their clothes off.
	“Oh shit!” breathed Shirley.  She knew full well upon meeting the two creeps that it wasn’t going to end well.  Trying to hold off she took her time; after dropping her over encumbered backpack she scuffled with her boots.  Daughter Laurie had dropped her overstuff backpack and was out of her shirt by then!
	“Git on wid it!” shouted Seven, “Or maybe we ought ta help!”
	That frightened Shirley who stepped up the pace not wanting the grubby hands of the stoned potheads to touch her.  Seventeen year old Laurie ditched her bra and got whoops and hollers from the onlookers.
	Shirley dropped her shirt (and bra) and let the two scoundrels have their fun gawking.
	“Gull-dang, Seven,” chuckled Dooty, “looky at them titties!”
	Shirley was embarrassed above being frightened.
	Laurie shucked her jeans and was also greatly embarrassed—her powder blue panties revealed greatly the fact that she had “wet ‘em!”  Her mother standing beside her wasn’t aware—until the panties were discarded onto her clothes and Shirley got a glimpse.
	Once the two were naked—
	“You suck dick?” Seven asked of Shirley.
	“NO!” she quickly replied.
	Seven got a quivering sneer to his lips (and an evil gleam to his eye!)
	Dooty dropped his pants (no undies) and flopped his seven inch cock for the two naked women to stare at.
	“You gonna suck mine!” he jeered.
	Clenching her fists to her side and Shirley defied the man.
	Then Seven raised his double barreled shotgun,
	“Suck it alive or dead—makes no matter to me.” he said with all seriousness.
	With great strength the 39 and holding woman went before the lanky gangly long stringing dark haired man with an odd curve to his backside.  Closing her eyes she stood exhuming great amounts of hate.
	Seven cocked the shotgun and while Laurie cried behind her, Shirley went to her knees and took Dooty’s seven incher into her mouth.  The man reeled, giggled, made nonsensical comments, and filled the middle aged woman’s mouth with his fuck stick.  Dooty continued to reel and ran his grubby fingers thru Shirley’s thick ultra curly blond hair.  Shirley gagged, choked, and very nearly retched.  Dooty giggled incessantly; pulling his equally gangly pud out and rubbing it against the woman’s face.

	As Dooty skull fucked Shirley, Seven nodded to Laurie to come forth.
	There was hesitation but the teenager made her way; crying (and continuing to pee) as she did so.  Seven dropped his pants (and undies) and sported not a lengthy dong but a thick one.  It was rock hard and Laurie was not so enthused to perform the task assigned to her.
	“You suck dick before?” Seven asked.
	When Laurie didn’t answer straightaway—Seven tapped his shotgun against her mother’s head—“Tell me, bitch, or I’ll blow her goddamn head offen her shoulders!” he was serious.
	Laurie wailed “Yes, I suck dick!” she cried (and peed) and sat trembling on her knees.
	“Boyfriend a lucky motherfucker!” giggled Dooty leering at the naked teen.
	“You got a brother?” Seven asked curiously.
	“Three brothers.” she wept.
	As Seven waggled his cock before the weeping girl,
	“You suck THEIR dick?”
	Laurie shook her head.  Seven smiled saying “I betcha you do!” then, tapping the barrel to the teen’s mother THEN placing the double barrels into the woman’s mouth, “You best be ‘fessing up!”
	In no way was Laurie going to ‘fess up to the truth not with her mother right there—but the situation was a little out of hand.
	Screaming, crying, peeing, “Yes, yes, god-fucking-damnit,” she breathed hard, “I suck them—I suck them—I suck them!”
	Seven smiled and shoved his cock into the girl’s mouth.

	Regardless of the intent of the shotgun’s ability to sway the mother-daughter into “performing” whatever vile act the two hillbillies wanted Shirley and Laurie were spread out on the ground and secured via rope and camping stakes found in their backpacks.  The two gangly mangy men helped themselves to the contents of the backpacks.  Seven enjoyed playing with Laurie’s panties while Dooty played with Shirley’s.  Finding the tent stakes and rope gave Seven an idea.
	Using the shotgun ensured Seven’s narly idea.  Shirley was defiant; Laurie was terrified.  But with the shotgun, Shirley complied—as the double barreled weapon was put in Laurie’s mouth.  She laid down and was secured by Dooty.  The naked hillbilly fingered the woman’s pussy when he was done and babbled incoherently to himself.
	“Can I do her, Seven?” babbled Dooty.  He was overly excited/stimulated.
	“Knock yerself out, Dood.”
	Despite being tied up securely, Shirley twisted and tried to fend off being raped.  Dooty slapped her face stunning her into submission.
	Meanwhile, as Dooty commenced to fucking, Laurie got on her hands and knees.  Her ass was pointed to her mother—but her mother was too stunned to watch the proceedings.  Those “proceedings” were Seven slap/spanking Laurie’s ass, spreading the cheeks, then spitting onto her hole.
	Picking up a small metal flashlight, Seven inserted the device into Laurie’s asshole.  He giggled incessantly as he fondled the teenager; then, when he mounted her shoving his cock into her cornhole she freaked the fuck out.  Whirling she managed to knock the shotgun out his hand but in her attempt to grab control of it failed.  Seven fell on her grabbing her long brown hair yanking hard to pull her head back regaining control.
	“Don’t you ever try that again, missy,” seethed Seven, “you do and I’ll shove Ol Bessy up yer cunt and pull the fuckin’ trigger!” snot bellowed from his flaring nostrils; his cold dark eyes seared pure evil.
	Laurie cried, wept, and peed.

	Spread eagled out on the ground, mother and daughter were in great peril.  Naked, threatened with a double barreled shotgun shoved up into their vaginas, they lay trembling in fear and pissed-offedness.  Shirley being a lot of pissed off clenched tightly as 33yr old Dooty raped her.  He wasn’t particularly good (but in his defense, Dooty’s usual fare of partners was usually farm animals.)
	Slinging her head, Shirley gritted her teeth as the kinda of funky stinky man jabbed his cock into her sex.  He pulled out to hump her womanness than jammed himself back into her.  He giggled, chuckled, and was mesmerized by her 36Cs globes.  So pissed off was Shirley that she somewhat missed the admissions from daughter Laurie of sexual relations with her brothers one-two-three.
	Languishing in a sea of turmoil Shirley seethed rage.  And it wouldn’t have been so bad had the offensively smelling hillbilly been “good” at what he was doing.  But along with her rage there, too, was fear.  Not so much for herself but for her daughter.
	Did she admit to having sex with her brothers?
	Shirley looked to her tormented daughter who was also being raped.
	She admitted to sucking them.  Them?  There were THREE thems.  Keith was the oldest “them” at eighteen.  Danny was twelve and Chris was seven.  Them?  Was she sucking and fucking all of THEM?
	Suddenly her mind was upset even more when Seven came over from his shenanigans with Laurie interrupting her thoughts saying,
	“Here, bitch, taste your daughter’s pussy!” and unceremoniously shoved his gangly fuck stick into her mouth.
	When she aptly refused,
	“Suck it, bitch, or suck lead!”
	Shirley sucked the man’s cock—in essence tasting her daughter Laurie’s pussy!  Dooty snickered, farted, then stood up making his way to the highly distraught Laurie.  After sizing her up a moment or two he commenced to peeing on her.  A golden shower!  His urine whizzed all over her from her cunny to her face.
	This only enthused Seven and he power fucked Shirley whooping and hollering all the while.  Shirley was less enthused and knew that she could do nothing but endure.  Surely something would happen to end the nightmare.

Something even wickeder cums this way
	Straddling her mother, Laurie’s mind was about gone.  Her pussy was nestled right down on her mother’s face; one of the hillbilly men spanked her as she languished in her turmoil.  The other hillbilly rammed his cock in and out of her mother’s pussy—and then shoved it into Laurie’s mouth snickering,
	“Here, bitch, taste yer momma’s cunt!” he chortled and howled and did a High Five with his buddy who was ramming his cock into the teenager’s pussy and asshole.
	Then,
	A tall man came out of the woods; cowboy attire but not likely a “cowboy.”
	He wore a hillbilly hat but was also not likely a hillbilly.
	Holstered on a hip was a 1880s era pistol; a hunting knife was sheathed on the other hip.  Narrow eyes that were steely cold blue; a day’s growth of bear, and his thick dark gray hair was tied back in a shoulder length ponytail.
	“You the two turds that was up at my still little while ago?” he asked in a thick deep very serious voice.
	“What the fuck if’in we was!?” spat Seven Upp as he stood; naked but defiant he made a stance.  Cum dripped in strands from his dick; Laurie continued to languish in her turmoil.  Dooty stood up and seemed nervous.
	“We dinna do nuttin’ to your still!”
	“Shut up, dumbass!” bitched angrily Seven.
	“He gonna blame us fer fuckin’ up his shit and it twernt us’uns at all!”
	“Who was it, then?” asked the stranger who also was equipped with a well weathered two-by-four with a custom made handle at one end.
	“Don’t say nuttin, Dood,” said Seven angrily, “them Batright boys mean’uns.”
	“Batright boys?”
	Seven realized it wasn’t Dooty who had spilled the beans but he himself!
	“Karl, Jorge, and—who’s the other one?” asked the stranger.
	“Spike.” drolled the Seven.  
	The stranger knew the Batright boys.  They weren’t quite right in the head; smokin’ shit and drinkin’ shit will do that to you.
	“Hmmm,” drawled the stranger, “I’ll have to pay those boys a visit.”
	Seven and Dooty stood, naked, leaking cum, sweating, clenching fists, and waiting.
	“I’m thinkin’ you owe me for what you helped yourself to at my still.”
	“Fuck you, Moone!” shouted Dooty, “We dint drink up that much of your shit!”
	“Hells no,” chimed in Seven, “them Batright boys had their fill then took off with some of your bottles.”
	“That for sure, Moone,” said a nervous Dooty, “we see ‘em do it!”
	The stranger, Moone, stepped closer, eyed the naked mother/daughter, then eyed Seven and Dooty.
	“Havin’ yourselves a little fun?”
	Seven eyed Moone’s stick.
	“We sure are, Moone, we sure are!” jeered Dooty.  “They’s all willing, that fact be sure!”
	“That why they tied up?”
	“Aint none of yer fuckin’ business anyhow, Moone!” shot Seven.
	“Yeah!” blurted Dooty, “Go fuck yerself, Moone!”
	It was then lightning reflexes stunned Seven and Dooty.  Seven first, ‘cause Moone’s “stick” came up smacking Seven upside the head sending him near cartwheeling to the ground.  Dooty stared at his twitching friend,
	“Sumbitch, Moone, what the fuck you do that for?” and as he looked back up to the man called Moone, he got “a nice piece of hickory” upside his head, too.
	Both men lay twitching on the ground.  Moone smacked them again until they no longer were twitching but lay very still.  Then the stranger took a long look at the very concerned mother/daughter team.
	Sighing and cocking his head he sized up the situation.
	Laurie, almost in control of herself, sat up—not quite aware, though, that her naked well fucked cum laden pussy was squashing her mother’s face.  Moone slapped the 2x4 against his thigh; not too tall, thick-thick gray eyebrows, an odd hard stare, he DID fit the cowboy look—but he never been one time on a horse!
	Straddling Shirley’s waist the man hauled out his cock.  No words were spoken but a lot was conveyed.  Laurie took the man’s hard cock and began to suck it.  Off to one side and Dooty’s left leg “twitched.”  Moone fucked Laurie’s mouth—then fucked her face.
	Unlike Seven and Dooty, though, Moone was gentle and not forceful.

	Shirley wriggled; her wrists and angles were bleeding from her wrenching in the ropes securing her.  Moone moved around to assess Laurie’s ass—and pussy.  Both were drenched in cum.  This soured Moone as he preferred to fuck and leave his own cum.  He wasn’t into sloppy seconds.
	That didn’t say he wouldn’t do it, though!

	As Moone, August Moone, put his tool, his man tool, into Shirley’s pussy, her womanly, he looked up into the woods.  He didn’t stop his business but slowed his pace.  After getting his nuts off he sat up continuing to focus on the woods.  To one side of Shirley lay her daughter.  Moone had already enjoyed her; pussy first, then asshole, then a generous titty fuck.
	Boning teenagers was Moone’s joy and he preferred it above others.  But that pleasure wasn’t set in stone.  Laurie had a nice body; trim, slim, and fuckable.  She WAS having sex with all three of her brothers, the oldest and youngest and mostly the one in between.  She didn’t take it “up the ass” too often and mostly gave blowjobs.  She gave handjobs mostly to the youngest brother.
	Regardless, she still had a delightful pussy.  Moone was just put off that the likes of Seven and Dooty had been in her first.  The girl moaned, groaned, and was deeply affected by the brash experience at the hands of the two hillbillies.  Moone made gentle love to the girl before moving up to fuck her titties.  It was while doing so that he noted that he was not alone.
	After firstly fucking Laurie whilst she was poised on her mother’s face he dragged the naked bodies of Seven and Dooty thru the woods to Adder Creek where he bashed their heads some more with the stout hickory stick before shoving them into the creek.  Then he returned to the mother/daughter team to continue.
	Making love to Shirley was pleasure—pure pleasure.  After losing her husband she hadn’t had “any” and her womanly cunny was in dire need of.  Moone was just the guy to fulfil that need.  He made slow progress as he fulfilled that necessary need—all the while keeping a steady eye on the woods.
	After getting his nut he returned to Laurie.  Not for sex.  Sitting the teenager up he stared into her eyes and mumbled something.  He also made adjustments to a large “diver’s watch” on his left wrist.  After a few minutes the girl seemed calm; she was no longer disillusional, ranting, weeping, or twitching.  Moone left her and untied Shirley.
	The fight in Shirley Partridge was long gone; her wrists and ankles were rent and the terrors in her mind were overwhelming.  Moone had a challenge.  Inasmuch as he was challenged with Laurie, Shirley’s mind was worse.  As little as five minutes had Moone spent “fixing” Laurie’s mind; fifteen minutes was required for Shirley.  Thereafter—

	The two gals would probably having lingering issues; a stray memory wrangling its way into their awakened mind.  A nightmare or two—but it would be boundless.  The pains to their bodies would heal; the pains to their minds would remain an issue no matter how good Moone’s attempt at “cleaning” were.
	After the mind dinking (fixing) he helped the mother/daughter dress.  He tended their wounds and instill upon their minds to “forget” how the rent skin came to be.  Someone would point it out to them and there would be that issue to deal with.  But at least they were safe; not sound, but safe.  They went on their way and Moone returned his attention to the woods.
	“Best come outta there,” he drawled, “time of day for the chiggers and ticks to come out.”
	He had to wait only a minute before two naked children emerged from the woods.  They were naked, cut and scraped, bitten, scared, and the boy had a raging hard-on!
	Moone, August Moone, not naked, ambled towards the two, sized them up, shook his head saying,
	“I knows you got a story to tell about how you come to be out here like you are,” he paused and continued to look the two over, “but time we get someplace to fix you up.”
	The two naked kids looked to one another, shrugged, and went along with the man to someplace else.
	“We could do worse.” whispered Arthur.
	His companion said nothing.  She farted and held Arthur’s hand tightly and traipsed thru the woods ready for their next adventure.