August Moone
Book 9
Chapter 36
And the Saga Continues
Perverted Perversions

Q: Why don’t aliens eat clowns?
A: Because they taste funny!
Q: What do you call an alien who’s missing an eye?
A: Alen.
     Conspiracy theorists were up in arms when learned of a government cover-up involving aliens in the Nevada desert.  “Ridiculous!” said a government spokesperson, “We were filming moon landings there at the time!”

	The year is 2222 and Adam and Eve land on Mars (after accumulating enough frequent flier miles.) They meet a Martian couple and are talking about all sorts of things.  Adam asks if Mars has a stockmarket, if they have laptop computers, how they make money, etc.  Finally, Eve brings up the subject of sex. 	“Just how do you guys do it?” she asks.
	“Pretty much the way you do,” says the Martian. 
	Discussion ensues and finally the couples decide to swap partners for the night and experience one another.  Eve and the male Martian go off to a bedroom where the Martian strips.  He’s got a teeny weeny member about half an inch long and just a quarter inch thick. 
	“Wow,” says an astonished Eve, “I-I don’t think this is going to work.”
	“Why not?” asks the Martian.
	“Well,” replies Eve, “It’s not long enough to reach me!”
	“Oh, no problem.”  and proceeds to slap his forehead with the palm of his hand.  With each slap of his forehead his member grows until it’s several inches long. 
	“Well,” says Eve beaming, “That is impressive, but it's still kind of narrow....”
	“No problem!” and he starts pulling his ears.  With each pull his member grows wider and wider until  the entire measurement is extremely exciting to Eve.
	WOW!” she exclaims.  They fall into bed and made mad passionate love.
	The next day the couples rejoin their normal partners and go their separate ways.  As they walk along, Adam asks Eve “Well, was it any good?”
	“I hate to say it,” says Eve, “but it was fantastic!”
	“How was it for you?”
	“It was horrible, all I got was a headache.  All she kept doing the whole time was slapping my forehead and pulling my ears!”

 How to keep religious zealots from coming to your door:  instead of nude i should answer the door in a thong that says whipped cream & my tank top that says jose cuevo while holding a bottle of tequila & ask r u my next client. give me a minute sweetie, i gotta go untie the last guy. 

*

Mindless minding
	Had what happened—happened?  It seemed improbable and not likely.
	Had he been delusional?
	Had he been mistaken?
	Maybe it was some outfit from Hollywood making a movie.
	But there hadn’t been any camera, lights, or crew.
	Aliens.
	Big ones!
	Slug-like aliens having anal sex with human males.
	It was too much for Robert’s mind to take.
	His daughter, Rhonda was on his mind—he was sure she was fine.  At home.  Alone.  Well, her best friend forever would be with her.  The aliens (or whatever the fuck he had seen) was foremost on his mind and a great distraction.  Until he thought of Audrey, from the arcade two chapters back.
	Driving mindlessly along the two-lane desert highway trying to distance himself from the “whatever” he had seen in the clearing his mind found solace thinking of his daughter and Audrey.  
	Rhonda.  He still marveled at how she had been so giving—or her body!
	But cash—cold hard cash (and lots of it!) swayed her.  Of course, with he himself being a bit of a pervert it was a given that some of those perverted genes were passed down to her.  But he was still in marvel of how willingly (without the aid of an EMAD) she let him be nasty with her.
	The moppet Audrey from the arcade consumed his thoughts, too.
	The cute girl at the drive-in consumed his torrid thoughts also.
	She was merely ten, like Audrey.  Long blond hair in curls, flat chested, slightly tan, nice butt.  With strong concentration he focused and dismissed the alien-slugs butt fucking the humans and “acquired” Emma Barns.
	His mind still rested on his daughter—and her friend.  Melinda.
	Yeah, more than once did he think of her—naked, underneath him, cringing and withering as she blurted out “You’re so big!”  More than once did he imagine her slurping on his schlong.  He thought of her 69ing his daughter whilst he plowed the girl’s ass.  The thoughts reigned supreme in his mind and before he knew it—ten year old Emma Barns was naked and his cock was rocking in and out of her pussy!
	With one hand cupping her super soft ass he drove his prick into her virgin cunny and humped-humped-humped.  There was the shudder and near collapse.  The young girl’s mind was solidly confined to the wiles of his EMAD.  He caressed her, fingered her well fresh fucked cunt finding stronger desires to do same to his daughter—and her girlfriend, Melinda!
	But the butt fucking aliens still rocked his mind.
	How was it that there were no military types checking out the horrific orgy?
	It just didn’t seem real; no flying saucers, no flickering (or flashing lights) no “little green men”—no Hollywood type science fiction bullshit.  He just didn’t know what to make of it—or if he should.  It wasn’t real.  Was it?  The only thing that eased the confusion in his tortured mind was fucking.
	Emma soothed him—her pretty eyes, naked body, his cock sliding in and out of her broken-in pussy.  He shuddered and thought strong thoughts of doing same to his daughter.  But first!
	One good fuck deserved another.
	And then another.
	And then one more to top it off.
	Emma squirmed and he found lustful joy in spanking her; raising her legs he swatted her tender white ass until his hand was sore and the young girl had reached the apex of screaming.  He had initially used the EMAD to sway her to his wicked wiles and then let her mind be her own.  She was already terrified, naked, and fucked.  Then he soothed her, er, caressed her.  Then fingered her and found that he had had his fill of her.  So, after kissing her, licking her pussy (after cleaning it) he motored into a remote desert town and dropped her off at a closed bus station.
	Then, instead of making a U-turn and heading home like he was supposed to and intended to do he continued to a small hilly town in between two desert highways.  Daybreak was coming.  He was sure that his daughter and girlfriend were fine, but he would call as soon as it was a little more day.
	In the meantime, with the alien stuff beginning to cloud in his mind he sighted in on his next adventure.  He knew he shouldn’t.  He knew he should go home.  He knew that engaging immorally with his daughter (and her girlfriend) would more than adequately satisfy him.
	But,

	Oh my God!  The little tyke racing around playing hide-in-seek with some other kids got his attention.  Immoral thoughts raced thru his head pestering him to no end.  The little tyke in question was merely five years young.  Five years!  No way—no how.  No way.  He shouldn’t—no way no how.  Such a tyke, though.  Bright sunny face, kinky blond hair, dazzling blue eyes, somewhat tan bare arms and legs, short-short inappropriate shorts, and sandals.
	It was one of those sandals that got lost while she darted about the parked cars of the hilly hilltop diner that got the tyke in trouble.  The sandal went under a car and the girl crawled underneath to fetch.  She continued to crawl out to the other side and—
	His heart raced as he slowly pulled back onto the road making southward to connect to the major highway connecting to the southland cities.  The little tyke lay in the floorboard behind the front seats and Robert Chikken couldn’t believe what he was contemplating.

*

	Getting lost on the “bad side of town”; encountering Officer Krunch, then Freddy the Stoner, shit she had seen on her tour of her neighborhood, all laid heavily on her mind.  Fuck Officer Krunch!  Fucking Freddy was ok, he had come to her rescue.  But the cop, that low life scum sucking molester—he could take a flying leap (straight into hell!)
	A headache she had, and the munchies!
	Her pussy ached.
	The horrors of her late night adventure would plague her for a while.
	Best friend Melinda remained sound asleep.
	She and Rhonda had fucked Freddy the Stoner’s brains out!
	But it was worth it.  She knew that she could count on at least one person to come bail her out.  Sitting on the side of her bed, naked, face and pussy full of cock stains, she wondered about her dad.  Be a bad time for him to come waltzing into her room to check (up) on her.  But then, of course, he was a fucking fucked perv and catching her naked in bed with her best friend wouldn’t piss him off—it’d excite him!
	She was dying for a joint.
	And a hot dog!
	On her dresser she found a note and a small baggie of dope.
	The note said “you girls were awesome!” and “thanks!” it was from Freddy.  There was enough weed for at least two small joints, or one big one!  Rhonda fired one up, then tickled Melinda’s pussy blowing smoke into the crevice.
	“What the fuck?” a bleary eyed Melinda said.
	“Good morning!” giggled Rhonda.  The horrors of the night were waning and a new day was promising.

*

	Chloe Chokesum was even cuter once naked!  Robert’s cock, although shagged out from doing Emma all the night, surged to new heights of exhilaration.  He did feel a little awful about what he was contemplating.  A little.  After sliding her short-shorts off, and then her panties, that feeling evaporated and he willing with no malice dragged the head of his pulsing prick against her slit.
	He was all cummed out but there was a bit of that clear viscous ball juice that soiled her easing the way for his prick to muster the foul deed that was pending.  Off came her blue sleeveless top with daisies embroidered all over.  She was such a cuty!  His mind locked and he went thru the horrid process of penetration.
	Chloe winced, grimaced, and made an astonishing face as the mighty man cock entered her.  She was intend too small a frame for ultimate penetration, just the head managed.  But it was enough to sate his unnatural desires.  He pumped a little, then grinded against her cunny, then pumped into her, then grinded, then mounted her chest having the child suck his sputtering schlong.
	But the girl was too small for his cock to slithering in.  And he DID want in!
	A good proper breaking in was in order.
	A boy close to her age but old enough to get a boner would do the trick.
	And at a roadside park one such was found.
	There were lots of big rig trucks about, recreational buses and other assorted RV’s of this and that, and state highway police, too.  No matter, Robert was on a mission.  He waited about an hour—with little Chloe naked in the back seat of his mega ride.  The prospects at the park were dismal; he waited, watched, waited, called home and chatted with his daughter—noting that she sounded a little stoned.
	Then he saw a prospect.
	TWO prospects!
	The first was a young lad of about eight.  He was capable of getting an erection AND he wasn’t so old that his cock would be as well too much for Chloe’s young cunt.
	The second prospect was a bonus.
	The first prospect was acquired easily without trouble.  The second prospect was “acquired” but then had to be released as there were too many peoples in prime positions to see her being “acquired.”  But he didn’t want to let her go.
	So, 
	Noting the truck with markings suggesting “fireworks” inside gave Robert an idea.  With a park full of motorists, Robert maneuvered himself, the driver of the truck, and scattered some dramatic fireworks in key places.  He hoped no one observed him as he slyly went about his business.  Most of the covert doings he had the truck driver to.
	He also had the truck driver light the fuses.
	Then Robert waited—and as soon as the first fireworks went off he once more acquired the bonus prospect and fled the scene.  Quickly.  There was indeed great chaos in the motor park and Robert couldn’t be happier.

	Miles down the road he pulled off (the road) to a desert road where a few miles later he came to a road leading up into the mountains.  An hour later and he was in the coolness of pines and cedars.
	Chloe had peed soiling his cloth seats.  That would warrant a spanking.
	The first prospect was eight years young, Ben Rocklick.  He had peed himself but managed not to soil the seat.  The second prospect, the bonus, was a young lady of seven.  Gorgeous red hair, a colorful dress to her knees, and ripe for the plucking of her virginity.
	The spanking of Chloe wasn’t harsh.
	With the windows open for air he got down to the business of getting the prospects out of their clothes.  He hugged the seven year old girl, patted her butt, kissed her in the Frenching way, then fingered her.  Young Ben Rocklick got a boner as he saw for the first time a girl without her clothes on.  He was an only child and had only male cousins.  He wore good clothes, better than the average kid, name brand of quality suggesting a better than average family income.
	Both Samantha and Ben had their minds not so much afflicted with the wonder of the EMAD; the amazing powers of the nifty device allowed the kids to have a bit of awareness—but controllable.  This allowed Ben to get his boner as he was aware of Samantha’s nakedness and for Sam to freak out.
	A swat to Samantha’s bare ass put her in a terrified manner—but controllable.  She sucked Ben’s cock—then Robert’s.  She didn’t gag when sucking Ben’s smooth eight year old dong but did so when slurping on Robert’s.
	Then, laying down on the fold down custom seat, Samantha was licked out by the overly giddy and eager Ben.  Bet your boots that Robert got his licks in, too!  Then he prompted and school the young eager lad how to fuck.  Samantha got herself a hard smack to her bare ass when she fussed, cried, and shrieked.  Ben entered the girl and as he fucked he got his ass smacked, too!

	While watching Ben fuck Chloe, and he himself was fucking Samantha, Robert got a terrific boner.  In his mind, though, the images of the alien slugs butt fucking the human’s suddenly erupted into his thoughts distracting him.  That’s when the flashing lights burned into the truck’s cab.
	Then a booming voice on an electronic booming voice device:
	“You in the truck, come out!”
	Shit shit shit shit shit shit
	With his heart beating (out of his chest) and panic mode ensuing, Robert eased open the driver’s side passenger door.  The bright lights of the ranger’s spot light was piercing and Robert was naked.  Whether or not the ranger could see the naked children in the extra cab area or not wasn’t clear.
	“Step out of the truck!” said the booming voice.
	Where was his EMAD?  Could he distract the ranger and zap the mind?
	Robert tried to speak but the words wouldn’t come out.  He was caught.  Red handed—cock handed.  His life was over.  It was all over.  What would happen to his daughter, his house, truck?  Wildly did he try and think but there was nothing—absolutely nothing on his mind.  It was over.
	Stepping out of the truck he stood nakedly with bits of cum dripping from his penis.
	“Turn around—” said the ranger, “hands on the truck, feet spread!”
	This would be a funny joke if it were his drunk ass friends pranking him.
	But it wasn’t.
	It was Jack Arr the Forest Ranger chancing upon Robert Chikken the child molester.
	“Who else is in there with you?”
	Hmmm, Jack Arr the Forest Ranger didn’t know.
	Still, though, Robert couldn’t speak.
	Suddenly, there was an eerie silence—followed by an even eerier ruckus.
	“What the fuck?” Robert turned around and the blazing stabbing bright light of the ranger’s truck’s spot light moved erratically as “something” gigantic” from behind lifted it up and toppled it.
	“Holy heaping ape shit!” breathed Robert hoarsely.
	It was green.  It was huge.  It was slimy with dark speckled green splotches.
	It was an alien slug.
	Robert felt faint.  He was also mesmerized and watched not in horror but in utter fascination as the massive slug-like alien “had his way” humping Ranger Jack.  Ranger Jack Arr was rendered naked but the alien slug’s vomit—a healthy (or unhealthy) dose of alien puke gushed over the hapless human dissolving his clothing.  Robert could smell the burning flesh and hear the sizzle, too.

	It was too up close and too personal.  Naked Robert watched as the insidious monster had his way with the human then when he himself had gotten his jollies not so calmly tossed him off into the woods.
	Feasting his eyes on the petrified Robert?
	No, the sluggish monster backed up into the woods and went thrashing its way into out of sight.  Robert stood still feeling his body seething with intense intensity.  He needed a joint.

And now here’s the dweeb with the weed with the local buzz on the weather, our own hippie dippie weatherman!
	“Dude, like, uhm, wow man, there’s fuckin’ wet stuff all over!  We could be in for some rain—leastways, that’s what the other stations are sayin’.  The forecast today is dark—no it’s not, it daylight!  You’re eyes are closed—open your fuckin’ eyes for Chris’ sake!”

	Strangely, he wasn’t in a panic as he thought he would.  He was more concerned—about himself and his mindset.  He had just witnessed up close and way-way to personal a man get raped (sodomized) by some crazed fucked up alien slug!  That just wasn’t right.  For one thing—why the fuck was an alien butt humping a guy?  Wouldn’t humping some chick be more prudent?
	The road down the mountain, opposite the road he had taken to get up, was a little more steeper than he liked.  He rode the brakes hard; there were jutting tree limbs and jagged boulders to contend with along with twisting narrow road.  He had to keep his mind on his driving and try-try-try to dismiss the horror he had just seen.
	At length he came to what appeared to be a farm.
	Well, it used to be a farm; it was thrashed.  There were remnants of canvas scattered everywhere, lodge poles snapped here and there, plants thrown about, watering gigs, apparatus of this and that nature designed to keep and maintain “a certain kind of crop.”
	That crop being weed.
	Marijuana.
	Happy smoke.
	The air was perforated with the stench of mature buds.
	The air was also heavily sullen with the stink of—dead animals.
	The attack had just occurred Robert presumed.  Shutting off the truck’s engine and lights he sat still for a long-long while.  Then he exited the truck carrying his trusty .30-06 with him.  Standing still for next to eternity he scanned the pot farm and waited.
	Sun up was about an hour away.  He would wait for that.
	Nothing stirred—not even the wind.
	The stench of weed and death permeated the air.  It wasn’t a raid by the Feds that had caused such havoc.  Strangely, Robert wondered about the alien slug creature.  Had it been here?  Had that butt fucking creature come to the marijuana plantation and wrecked it?  Was it the weed that had set him off?
	Too many questions.
	His balls itched.
	His cock ached.
	He had to pee.
	When the first streaks of sunlight peeked thru the surrounding pines Robert began to see not only a thrashed farm but thrashed workers, too.  Mexicans and long haired hippies.  Their bodies were broken; they were naked and all had apparently been butt fucked.
	Robert felt ill.  So just before he vomited he collected some buds and fled the scene.

Mleep!
	The Massive
	The Massive hung in high equatorial orbit about the blueish plant.  The Massive was not unlike many other satellites in the universe—it was round.  It was round with a reddish hue and about half the size of the bluish planet’s orbit moon.  Several alien-slugs were in gathering.  They were all mumbling to themselves awaiting the arrival of their leader, Glurb the Expansive.
	“This isn’t—mleep!—going to end well.” said one of the alien slugs.
	“Nleep!  No—zleep!—it isn’t.”
	“We—cleep!—will all endure the wrath—jleep!—of the Mighty One.”
	None of the gathered slugs were smaller than a 20 feet tall (6mtrs) and half that in circumference.  They, too, were shaped much like a curved banana.  And they were green.  Some more than others, some all one shade or another of green, mostly avocado-like.  Some of the slugs had splotches also of varying shades of green.
	Then there were the sets of threes; three arms, three eyes (on three swaying slug stalks).  Three fingers, too, on those three arms; and those arms were small-small in contrast to their large bulbous bodies.
	“How shall we—cleep!—tell him?”
	“The Mighty already—nleep!—knows.”
	“We’re—zleep!—doomed!”
	Several of the other slugs, known as glarthonks, hiccupped in their strange language.

	“We—pleep!—should all just—nleep!—put ourselves in the airlock now!”
	“Now-now, Sklurb,--bleep!—we shouldn’t rush to—wleep!—hastiness.  The Enormous One will possibly—sleep!—understand this—cleep!—mishap.”
	A hush silenced all mumblings as the ginormous leader of the slugs entered the Great Chamber.  His usual shade of deep rich green was pulsating the heavy dark splotches.  He was angered.
	“His Mighty Exhausted One!” the gathered glarthonks bowed making mumblings in their base language acknowledging the presence of the massive slug.
	“ENOUGH!” shouted Glurb the Exalted One.
	“My Mighty One,” said a nervous Llrub, “we apologize for bringing out of your deserved slumber to this tragic tragedy.”
	A long hard stare from the Mighty One put the nervous Llurb into a frenzy—so much so that his usual stuttering speech with accompanying hiccup ceased.  Cringing, the speech impediment usual in glarthonks had suddenly vanished and no one could understand him at all!
	“My Glorious Obese One,--gleep!—what Llurb is—flurb!—trying to explain, is,--tleep!—one of our—hleeb!—has gone on a rampage.  Jleep!”
	“It is—kleep!—come to—qleep!—our attention that—wleep!—Mlurb the Witty, has—eleep!—come in contact—rleep!—tleep!—yleep!yleep!yleep!—with some sort of indigenous plant.”
	“Yes,--sleep!—this awful plant has had—gleep!—a horrific—qleep!—effect on Mlurb.”
	“He has—vleep!—gone on a wrecking havoc.”
	“Gleep!  He is going—hleep!—to expose—hleep!—our plans.”
	Glurb the Mighty seethed.
	“NLEEP!” he belched and bellowed, “Find him!”
	The slugs all slithered about bashing into one another but managing to file out of Chamber door leaving their seething leader to fume.  His glorious plans of conquering the bluish planet were dissolving.

*

Olosqueak and weed
	The horror—the horror.  A life time of counseling would not be enough to erase what he had seen.  Maybe some weed, though!  In his scrounging about securing the bodacious buds he found containers of “liquid”; he figured it was whiskey of some sort.  Some sort.  The containers, though, were odd shaped having a long-long narrow neck with a round body.  The container was made of a material that felt odd in his hand, not quite stainless steel.  He figured the hippies had handmade the containers whilst they were stoned.  Yeah, go with that.
	Winding on down the mountain to 2-lane paved road Robert questioned his mindset.  What was happening?  Was it happening?  Were there actually aliens invading the Earth?  Were there actually aliens invading the Earth hell bent on butt fucking human men?  Wow!  What a concept.  That deserved a drink—of whatever the hell was in the odd shaped/odd feeling container.
	Just opening the cork-like stopper put Robert in a tizzy.
	“What the fu—”
	The stench overpowered all else—body odor, marijuana, dog shit (he had stepped in at the pot farm) and the scent of dead hippies forever fragranting his mind.  The sip of the contents about blew his mind.  He had had some strong whiskey in his days; even moonshine!  He had had some strong-strong Tennessee whiskey, 120 proof!  There was some Scotch whiskey, Irish, and Russian whiskey that turned his balls inside out.  But the stuff in the odd container beat them all.
	It was, in fact, alien hooch.  Glarthonk wliskey commonly known as olosqeak.  One sip and his tongue was numb.  Followed by his cheeks.  His eyes blurred, asshole clenched up, and his balls were in business for themselves.  There was a scorch mark all the way down his throat.
	There was only one thing to do in a situation like that—take a hit off a doob!
	Somehow he managed to roll a joint and light it up.
	Thereafter—
	Hours after—he awoke naked in a field of poppies and other assorted wildflowers.  And he didn’t care.  The sun was warm.  There was a breeze.  Not care one did he have; for the world or anything else.  All was peace—all was calm.
	Stung by a bee?  Fuck it.
	Pee on himself?  Fuck it.
	The munchies?  Hmmm—yeah, fuck it.
	It was nightfall before the buzz began to bug him.  He was hungry, naked, had not one but two bee stings, and talk about disorientated!  He was lost.  The feeling of still being high was with him so his cares of being disorientated didn’t bother him.  fuck it.
	At length he stood, wobbled, fell down.
	Fuck it.
	After a bee stung his butt he moseyed down a wildflower flowered hill, fell into a creek and lay there—until he got chilled then he crawled out and ate some flowers.  Further down the hill and he came up to a lone black and white cow.
	“Hey, cow, how’s it going?” said a stoned Robert.
	“Moo, goddamnit, moo.”
	“You shouldn’t cuss, cow, it’s bad for you.”
	“Moo, fuck you, moo.”

“Talking to a man is like trying to saddle a cow!”

	“Hey, cow, my girlfriend doesn’t think I listen to her.  I listen but I don’t often care about what she’s sayin’!  She’s all about what dress looks good on her—to wit my response normally is “None!” I prefer her naked and carrying a beer (to me!)
	When God was making out character traits for man and woman Man got the  communication skills way down the list (after fish cleaning.)  God was practical that way.  He knew that man was needed mostly for the dirty and dangerous jobs that women found disgusting.  And so as the world wouldn’t be boring with the non-communicating men who were busy cleaning fish, mud racing, farting contests, and a million other goofy shit things men do—woman was given the gift of conversation (or vernacular of gossip.)  Not even God could not have foreseen the unintended consequences of this disparity between man and woman.
	Over time, some men did develop verbal skills but they still didn’t listen.
	Can you imagine Moses and his wife talking about the commandments?
	Why don’t you get off your butt and finish writing those 100 rules I told you about.” 
	“I think the Top 10 are plenty, the guys won’t remember more than that anyway, so what’s the difference?”  good point, Mo.
	Maybe this is really just a case of semantics. There is a huge difference between what women want and what women need.  Men have everything women need but few of us have what women want.  Men have strength, courage, a sense of humor and the willingness to run into burning buildings to rescue women and pets.  (actually most do these heroic things on a totally altruistic reason:  we’re going into the burning down building to get our bass boat, bass pole, beer, and porn!)
	We build things with our hands and we work hard to provide the essentials of life.  Unfortunately, what women want is something else entirely. They want to know we care and are there for them, whatever that means.  Isn’t it enough that we risked our lives?  Do you really want a fireman who just broke down your bedroom door and is trying to carry you out of the burning house to rip off his clothes and flex his pecs?
	Face it; we men are not God’s best work.  There’s only a couple of ways your message is ever going to get through to us, especially if we’re watching NASCAR. You can either show up naked, bring beer, have your hot sister with you, and say some something like “We can start the party anytime now!” and throw soiled panties at us.  If that doesn’t work then you’d better check for vital signs because he might be dead or gay!”
	“Whattya think of THAT, cow?”
	“Moo, I gotta take a shit!  Moo!”
The flesh is way willing but the spirit is way weak
	After his conversation with the cow he talked for an hour with a fence post.
	After another fall into the creek he pulled himself up the small hill to a narrow road.  He began to feel ill; dizzy and hungry.  Disorientation was still about him as he stumbled haphazardly down the road.  The sun was up and beginning to burn his naked body.
	Where were his clothes?
	Where was he?
	His senses didn’t come back to him until nearly noon.
	He found his truck—and when he saw the kids still within his lost senses struck him hard.
	“Holy mother of monkey’s milk!”
	They were soiled and very scared, hungry, confused, and everything else.
	Shaking off the effects of the alien hooch and the hippie happy smoke took most of the day.  He luckily found his clothes nearby—and valuable wallet.  Soothing the kids took some doing; the EMAD helped but there was some doing in calming the kids.  Cleaning them took some doing and then there was the cleaning of the soiled seat.
	The wicked 200 proof-plus olosqueak (and accompanying Columbian Gold) put the rigors of the glarthonks at rest.
	At a small mountain town he got the children fed.  More EMAD workings on their minds continued.  Thereafter and it was back to the business at hand.

	Eight year old handsome fart Ben took to fucking with ease.  Like a pro!
	Seven year old Samantha of whom Ben was fucking with ease wriggled.
	More than middle-aged Robert masturbated—using five year old Chloe’s hand!  The little tyke was on his lap working his cock into a frenzy—it also glided against her very young cunny to enthuse him all the more.  When young Ben had had his fill of fucking Sam he put his dinky erection to Chloe—all the while she still occupied Robert’s lap!
	Ben went into Chloe; Robert’s cock right up between the child’s warm ass.
	Samantha fingered her pussy with puzzlement galore etched on her sweet face.  Robert caressed Ben’s ass and got harder-harder-hardest!  And when Ben had humped his fill of the young girl Robert maneuvered himself to the fidgety Samantha.
	He went down on her—devouring her young cunny.  Her young broken-in cunny.  The girl fussed and squirmed; Robert let her fuss.  When he moved up positioning himself for the prime defiling the young girl tensed and stared up at him wild eyed.

	The spillage of his splooge was enormous.  There was a lot!  A thick wash of sticky milky goo exploded into (and then onto) the child’s cunny.  The relief was instant and lasted a couple of minutes.  Grinding on the girl’s poon in his own mess encouraged his “good feeling” to linger in his mind a little longer.
	He then mastered Chloe managing to get a significant amount of his schlong into her tiny crevice.  That being the head of his dick and about another inch.  He had to hump her slit hard in order to get his nuts to juice up.  Once he felt that feeling coming on he dashed his dick back into her body to finish off.
	He knew, though, that full insertion would be da bomb!
	A five year old was ok, but a girl a bit older, even older than Samantha, would have to do the trick.  The three children were let out at a roadside park an hour from a desert city.  Robert found his mind still in the wonderment effects of the strange alien whiskey.  He smoked a doob and mediated for a while before moving on to his next adventure.

The next adventure
	He didn’t think that he would ever get used to the taste of the alien booze.
	But it was worth a try.  Just a sip.
	Of course it was just as powerful as the first time—but this time he remained in the confines of his truck.  A half sip.  It still burned.  It still scorched.  His eyes watered, stomach tensed up in the anticipation, asshole clenched…
	He made the appropriate noises “Whew!” “Whoa!” “Sumbitch!”
	It burned—the alien drink sizzled all the way down to his stomach and then festered therein.  It left him a little dizzy and with a “buzzing” buzz in his mind.  His past was nowhere to be seen.  He didn’t even miss it.  Chloe and the other kids had been dropped off (naked) at a highway rest stop in the middle of the night.  Robert then motored off to just the outskirts of the next city sporting a cast of characters in the millions.
	He only wanted to sample a few of them.
	Happenstance being what it was—a sudden unannounced thunderstorm erupted over the area.  Robert made for the last restway roadstop before the mega city just over the mountainous hills.  The thunderstorm dumped a deluge of cloud refuse totally inundating the immediate area below.  Robert stuck it out in his truck, took another daring sip and contemplated lighting up another joint.
	He wisely passed on that—drinking alien hooch and then smoking a joint was apparently not a good companion.  No telling where he would wind up—talking to a parrot in Uruguay about the political unrest in Yugoslavia!
	At length and he took notice of someone hulking under one of the roadstop’s picnic tables.  Equipped with a backpack it was deduced a hiker.  But more was to come!
	“It’s a lot drier—and warmer, in my truck.” Robert said sticking out his hand in offering.  The bedraggled soaked-to-the-skin caught off guard hiker looked up.  There was slight hesitation but when the deluge of Mother Nature’s wrath seemed more foreboding than taking an offer from a stranger—the bedraggled soaked-to-the-skin caught off guard hiker took the offer.
	And to Robert’s surprise, and delight, the hiker was a girl.
	Not a woman.
	A girl.
	Not just any girl, a teenage girl.  A teenage girl on the run.
	Robert was more than happy, more than elated.
	Once the girl, Krissy, got inside the cab she was told to hop in the back.
	She didn’t hesitate.  She was soaked and shivering and there was good heat in the rear area.  There was, though, slight hesitation when—
	“Take your clothes off.” spoken from her benefactor.
	“Do you know what pneumonia is?”
	Krissy thought thoughtfully and nodded.
	“And you get it from being out in bad weather like this.” Pause  “So you need to get out of those wet clothes—now!”
	Producing a warm emergency blanket, an army blanket, somewhat assured the girl that her angel was on the up and up and not a devil.  Yeah, go with that.
	Getting wet clothes off was a chore; wet socks was another.  The girl grunted as she fussed on the removal—then paused when she was down to her underwear.  The heater had been turned on full blast and there were a/c-heating vents in the rear area indeed warming her up.
	The man came into the rear area and adjusted the custom seat whereas it would fold down making something of a bed.
	“Lay down.” Robert spoke calmly and assuredly—backed up by an electronic means.
	Krissy, although soaked to the skin, found her mouth suddenly dry.
	Slowly, though, with a buzzing in her ears, shivering from utter cold, confusion reigning supreme in her young thirteen year old mind, she laid down on the cloth “bed.”  Robert paused, a smile wavered on his lips, his mind locked on all the narly things he was going to do.  Krissy breathed slowly, shivered greatly, and farted.
	With trembling fingers, Robert slid the girl’s panties down—and off.
	Parting her legs he moved his trembling fingers to her not-so-virgin voom box.  The pubes were nicely trimmed giving her muffin a pleasant eye appeal.  Lightly with some expertise the trembling fingers frigged the girl’s box.  The girl twisted, made a face, and farted again.

	Robert slipped off his own clothing, soaked with a bit of rain, too.
	His cock was raging hard and up against the delightful poon, the girl was all about confused.  Her bra was removed and then—
	Thru admission, via the narly prowess of Robert’s EMAD, Krissy admitted that she was not a virgin.  The dick that had devirginized her was not of a boy her age—although two boys had tried and one boy was nearly successful.  The dick that had invaded her cunny deflowering her was of a young lad named Kenny.  And Kenny was ten.  The event happened more than once.  There, too, were two other boys—one was eight and one was even younger!
	Kenny, though, had a dick long enough to deflower.
	He didn’t cum.
	Krissy was afraid of getting pregnant.
	But that was the least of her problems—when she herself was ten her parents divorced.  Her mom remarried a year and a half later bringing into the family the man’s little girl half Krissy’s age.  Krissy resented the little girl although it was no fault of hers.
	The resentment spilled over to Krissy’s mom.  She also hated that her father had gone away leaving her—she adored her father.  Or dad.  And strangely, there was no resentment towards the new daddy, Ron.  Not even after he was aware of her naughtiness with young Kenny.
	Usually and Krissy met with Kenny in the park—they had a special place in which to enact their shenanigans.  Sometimes it was behind the school (her junior high school) under the bleachers, and then it was one time in her own bedroom!)
	Little did Krissy know that her new daddy was a secret admirer of hers.
	A couple of days after she had had her thrill with Kenny then did Ron call her to his den (formerly her daddy’s den) and show her a video.  It was a video of her having sex with Kenny.  Kenny had fiery red hair, a near lily white body, and a nice-nice cock—of which could be seen sliding in and out of Krissy’s cock hungry cunt.
	The girl nearly fainted—new daddy Ron was a perv!  And an opportunist.  He had a babycam secretly operating in Krissy’s bedroom—where he watched her undress, lay on her bed to frig herself, undress, prance about in her panties, and frig herself.
	To say the least and Krissy’s breath was taken.
	“I don’t think your Mom would like to know about this.” said Ron.
	That would be true.  Her mom worked at a downtown office and worked late hours.  Ron worked a normal office job and was home with the girls.  Krissy was in panic mode.
	“And she wont see this,” said a coy Ron, “if you play ball with me.”
	Krissy played softball for her school ball team—but Ron had another meaning.
	“W-what do you want?”
	Ron smiled, he was a devil—his eyes were mysterious, coal black.  He had black hair and something of a goatee with light sideburns.  He was wiry, thin, tall, and an expert in martial arts.
	The first thing in store for the naughty Krissy was to lay across his lap.
	A spanking!
	Krissy jolted as the first swat smacked her ass.  She could not remember ever being spanked.  Another spanked made her twist—so did the next one.  Then she was stood up and while she caressed her burning bum—
	“Take ‘em down.”
	Holy shit!
	Krissy’s brown eyes bulged.
	“You cant be serious!” she exclaimed.  “No way!” she further blurted.
	“Ok, then, when your Mom gets home I’ll show her how you are when we aren’t here.”
	“You son-of-a-bitch!” the girl nearly screeched.
	“That’s a spanking!”
	Ron swatted her ass and brought her across his lap for a three-swat spank.
	“It’ll get worse before it gets better!” he said wryly.
	Krissy held back the tear.  Her ass was on fire!
	“Take ‘em down.” he said again.
	Krissy hesitated with her fingers trembling at the buttons to her jeans.
	“I’m sure this boy’s parents would like to see this video, hmmm?”
	Oh My God!  Blackmail at its highest.
	Panic mode!
	Trembling, sniveling, almost crying, Krissy undone her jeans and pushed them down.  Ron smiled and ogled the girl clad in her purple panties with dark lavender trim.  Her muffin mound was excellent!
	Firmly with a grip to her elbow he brought her back across his lap.
	SMACK! SMACK!  SMACK!
	Krissy jolted, squirmed, and when she tried to protect and soothe her ass Ron’s powerful hand not spanking her held her flailing hands.  Then she was stood up again.  A flood of tears rained down her cheeks.  She didn’t want to break in front of the man but it was uncontrollable.
	“Now, take THEM down.”
	Krissy shook her head.  There was no way in fucking hell she was going to willingly take her panties down.  No way.
	Yes way.
	Ron calmly told her that he had sent a copy of the video to his computer and cell phone and—AND could easily “send” said copy to her mother, police, school, anyone.
	Krissy’s panic mode had escalated to pure fear and fright.
	“Oh my God!  Oh my God!  Oh my God!” she repeated.
	Then, with the realization that her world could collapse and she would be juvenile jail for eternity, all her friends and family would know about her and Kenny, she slid her panties down.  She felt horrible.  She was broken.  Ron caressed her ass and once more put her across his lap.
	SMACK!  SWAT!  SPANK!
	Krissy’s normally white ass was a brilliant shade of red.
	Ron smoothed his hand all over the burning flesh to his pleasure before standing up—and fishing out his rock hard hardness.
	“Oh my God!  Oh my God!  Oh my God!”
	Ron wavered his throbbing hard manhood before her telling her,
	“Suck it.”
	On the video, there too, was of her sucking off Kenny’s cock.
	She had spread her legs and coerced the boy into licking her pussy (just prior to him fucking it.)  Krissy felt ill.  All out of crying and sniveling she took Ron’s manly manhood and sucked it.  As she bobbed her head up and down the man unhitched his slacks and dropped them then worked his underwear down.  He also placed a hand to the back of the girl’s cocksucking head full enjoying himself.
	Just before shooting his load in her mouth (or on her pretty face) he pulled out—and humped her face.  He then had her get up onto his desk (her daddy’s desk.)  With her legs open, the horrid man firstly gawked at her nakedness.  It made her feel more than uncomfortable.  It was then she began to seethe.  Her disdain for the man overtook her fear and she seethed hate.
	Ron was not aware—or cared.  After gawking at her teenage poon he delved into it with his tongue.  Krissy was at first disgusted—but she wavered on being horrified as well as thrilled.  She had never been licked out so!  Ron expertly thrashed his tongue about pleasing the teen’s cunny until she was experiencing orgasm.  She couldn’t believe it.
	And while the girl was in the throes of orgasm—Ron the Opportunist sunk his cock into her.  Only when he was in and pumping furiously did the girl become aware.  She was being raped.  Her mind was in uproar.  She was being raped!  Pure and simple.
	But, it was more of a case of being taken advantage of.  She had had sex with Kenny.  He was ten.  In the eyes of the law—she had raped him!  She had no recourse but to endure the rape.  Ron fucked her silly on the desk, then turned her over, spanked her ass with his cock—then sodomized her.
	Avoiding Ron wasn’t easy; her mom worked late hours and Ron didn’t.
	She tried having friends over, immersing herself in her homework, practicing her pitching, something.  But of course, she ran out of time and Ron was always lurking.  It wasn’t always a fuck or up the ass; mostly he simply wanted to see her naked, the opportunity to caress her breasts, pussy, and ass.  Oh, and a blowjob was the usual norm.
	One night while in her room—waiting, Krissy devised a plan to get Ron in equal trouble.  He had secretly covertly filmed her—she would do the same.  (but she had never found the babysitter cam (she also had forgotten to look for it!))
	In her room she waited.
	And waited.
	And waited some more.  Pissed that he hadn’t come in to her room for his nightly perversion she went looking for him.  And found him in his daughter’s room—being a perv!  The little girl was masturbating him!  She was naked—so was he!  She was sitting on her bed and he was standing naked before her.
	When Krissy opened the door and busted him his devil eyes erupted in flames.  He chased her back to her room where they fought in a scramble ending up with Krissy being pinned to her bed and Ron spanking her ass until she begged for him to stop.
	“I wont tell!” she screamed, “I wont tell!”
	“You better not!” bellowed Ron.
	Of course, though, she told—she told her mom that Ron was being naughty with his daughter as well as herself.  Krissy’s mother, however, chose not to believe her and accused her daughter of trying to break up their “happy home.”  It was no secret that Krissy did not like Ron and had a cold shoulder to his little girl.
	What exactly was said between the two wasn’t clear—Krissy chose not to remember.  What happened was locked away—deep down inside.  What she DID remember was the slap.  They had gotten into a yelling match that ended with a frustrated mother slapping her out of control daughter.
	As soon as she (the mother) slapped Krissy it was over.  The yelling, the argument, the relationship.  Krissy fled to her room then later out the window and gone.  Had she been aware of pending storms along her route she would have waited—or at least gone in a different direction.
	So she liked young boys.  Young boys were safe—they couldn’t get you pregnant.  Robert slid into the girl’s cunny finding it delightfully pleasing.  He gave unto her a copious amount of jiz and then some.  Krissy shuddered from the fuck—Robert expertly grinded against her sensitive clit sending her into a sexual frenzy she wasn’t aware of.
	Then Robert locked her ankles, lifted her legs, and spanked her.

A funny thing happened on my way to the slime pit
	Oh, he knew it was wrong—immorally wrong and possibly illegal to view it and/or possess it.  The “it” was one of those instant photographs showing two very young girls 69ing.  They were blond, naked, on a child’s bed and the view was a side shot.  The picture didn’t show the girls’ pussy (or their tongue action.)  That didn’t matter, they were naked and their young heads were bobbing indicating that something naughty was going on.
	It was enough to get almost teenage Mick Sheboygen a boner.
	His two friends, Carlton and Markus giggled and blushed—Markus doing the most blushing.  Mick was a tall lad of twelve, very blond hair, light tan, green eyes, excellent soccer player.  Carlton and Markus played soccer, too, but were mostly into running and track events.
	The picture of the very young girls sixty-nining weren’t the only pictures “found” in the public restroom of the park where the boys played.  Another picture had a girl a couple years older, long blond hair, long white body, naked, front pose.  Once more the boys giggled and blushed—and got wood.
	A picture of a teenage girl, black, got the boys’ attention.  She was pretty, tall, black, and naked.  She was posed laying out on a bed, legs open, fingers in the process of “fingering.”  The boys ogled the picture and were captivated.
	And it was to note that seen in each picture was some bills, money.  The money was in the American denomination of twenty dollar bills laid out in a fan-like presentation making one hundred dollars.
	A the other end of the same park, Julianna Jully gushed at the picture of a young teenage boy—who was naked striking a pose of one foot up on a wooden wingback chair.  He was near lily white, dirty blond hair, about thirteen years young, and his penis was semi hard (and very explicit.)
	Julianna gushed, blushed, and was in awe.  She had seen wee little lads naked but this was no “wee little lad”!  She showed the picture to her friend, Kathleen who also gushed and utter “Ahm!”  
	And just as with the “other” pictures there was money spread out on the floor.  Just then and their friend, Hanna, came up to them showing them a picture SHE had found—along with a handwritten note.  
	“You, too, could make this money.”
	The kids were captivated—of which that was the point.
	Both the boys and the girls were unaware of the nefarious intent of the note.
	Both the boys and the girls were unaware of there being more than one nefarious nefarion interested in their person.  But as it was—first cum—first served!  Robert Chikken was the first to take advantage of the boys and girls and acquired them to his truck—where already there was Krissy and two other girls recently absconded away with.  Robert was on a role!
	Meagan Meegan, ten, had been absconded away with as she stood sullen against a brick wall that surrounded a church.  She was upset that no one had paid attention to her singing.  It wasn’t a normal church service but a function—a gathering where there was food and a lot of chatter.  Meagan sang a non-church song but it was peppy, funny, and difficult for most folk to do of any age.  But hardly anyone listened as they were too busy stuffing their faces—or ears.
	Mid way thru the song depicting an auctioneer singing and Meagan gave up and left in a bit of a huff.  Outside the church boundary and she slumped against the wall.  It wasn’t about wanting attention but just being noticed.  No one noticed.  Well, no one but Robert.  The little EMAD in his clutches was working overtime!
	The other girl absconded away with was a teenage girl, Laci Lucilla.  She was fifteen!  A little out of Robert’s normal range but it was her face that got Robert.  A small mouth, small eyes, friendly, nice butt, more than ample breasts.  More than anything and did Robert want to see her naked—with his balls dragging across her face.
	The Boys and Girls from the park were a happenstance, a chanced upon occurrence he couldn’t pass up.  Noting their stunned stupor he took advantage.  He was curious as to who “placed” the pictures—and even after getting the kids into his crowded truck he waited.  And waited.  And then drove off.

Slime pit adventures
	While in transit and Krissy was dressed.  Thereafter, after removing himself from the roadway and deep-deep into the desert to the shadows of some hills, clothing was once more removed.  The girl’s wet clothing had dried somewhat by then regardless.
	And so it began.  As evening fell, Mick, Carlton, and Markus (and the others) watched as Krissy lay out on the folded down back seat—naked.  The mouths of the boys fell open and their puds still contained inside their pants surged to full life.
	Robert fingered the girl then electronically commanded the boys to remove their clothes.  They did so with little hesitation—Carlton was with hesitation.  Mick and Markus shucked their clothing almost instantly.
	Julianna and Kathleen stared in utter awe as the boys got naked.
	Hanna and Laci were in awe with bulging eyes; Meagan was petrified.
	All the kids within the crowded truck were held by the mighty Device of Robert Chikken but their young minds were not so confined.  There was just enough awareness allowed to make them less zombie-like and more human.  Some more than others.  The boys seemed to follow thru the electronic wizardry without much thought—only Carlton displaying some concern over the immediate situation.
	Regardless, after Mick had his way with the runaway Krissy, Carlton “willingly” participated in having himself a fuck.  Only Laci and Hanna were aware of what constituted sex and sex acts—Missionary.  Laci knew a little more and had seen her share of young boys naked.  But the other girls were clueless about sex—and sex acts.
	Markus took his turn followed by Robert himself shucking his clothing and showing all his mighty beefstick.  Then he slid said beefstick into the hapless Krissy fucking her brains out.  The release at the end was phenomenal.  He couldn’t figure it out but it seemed to be the best fuck he had ever had!  He deduced that it was the girl’s age; she was a pretty girl who teetered on the fine edge of being a girl and a tomboy.
	Caressing her young teenage breasts, his cock dwelling within her cunny, Robert felt himself melting.  Already he had been on a helluva ride—the aliens, the alien hooch, the weed.  He began to feel something nagging at him, though; in the back of his mind there was something—something about his life that he was seemingly unaware of.  Hmmm
	‘Suck him.’ was transmitted to Hanna.  She was conscribed to “suck” Mick’s dick.  There was hesitation—two seconds worth—before the girl bent over from her sitting position to sucking position.  Mick was out of his mind—with glee!  His first blowjob!  The boy was still reeling from his first fuck!  And he had cum off, too!
	Hanna was no expert in the art of sucking dick.  She retched, gagged, and heaved ho (but managed not to hurl or blow chunks.)  She sucked his dick without a lot of typical know-how about it.  However, her lack of proficiency notwithstanding provided Mick with a mindblowing experience.  Julianna sucked off on Carlton while Kathleen took care of Markus.  Both Carlton and Markus were of Mexican heritage with Markus also having Korean.  Laci was also of Mexican parents and was totally in awe at what had just happened—let alone she herself undressing and laying out with her legs spread.
	And it was young eleven year old Markus who put his hardened tool to Laci’s virgin cunny.  No customary preliminary cunt licking—just get it in there and fuck, boy!  Fuck!
	Markus complied and pumped like he knew how—and he didn’t.  He didn’t even practice masturbation.  He was more into sports, collecting sports related cards, going to sports game, reading (about sports) and rock climbing.  He regarded girls as “pretty” and rarely thought of them as sex objects.
	Carlton was just in the beginnings of finding the pleasures of pleasuring himself.  He liked it—a lot!  And sinking it into Krissy and then Laci was da bomb!  He hadn’t cum off in Krissy’s cunny—but in Laci he did manage to blow off a hellacious wad of spunk!
	Laci cringed as after Markus, Carlton, and then Mick, Robert took his turn and “fucked her brains out.”  Fast and furious.  He didn’t want to go so fast but the act just sort of took over him and he went at the deed like a rabid rabbit.  The release at the end was not as terrific as it had been with Krissy.  Bummer.
	He didn’t explain himself—for his quickness.  He panted and lay off between the fucked girls contemplating his next move.
	Meagan.
	With the pretty ten year old naked she was not so much unlike the other girls, Kathleen and Julianna, or the twelve year old Hanna.  The girl was delight to behold—and Robert beheld her!  A nice smooth hairless cunny greeted him giving his cock strength.  Carlton eyed her, too.  As did Mick and Markus.  Lovely long super curly raven black hair, a nice long narrow face, brilliant eyes of green, flat chested, and a sweet-sweet face.  Worthy of dragging his nut sac across.
	Firstly, though, after parting her legs and ogling her, he went down on her.
	It was a lesson not taught in school.  All present watched totally unawares of such a thing was possible.  After licking his fill—and being thoroughly delighted in doing so, he placed his throbbing hardness against the smooth slit and humped.  Feeling a little exhausted he sat up and had Markus take up the position—like with Chloe, he needed a smaller dick to break the girl in.
	And Robert didn’t make much in the way of moving out of the way as the Mexican/Korean slid into position.  As the boy got busy with the fucking of Meagan—his ass was kissed by the man’s throbbing hard cock.  Robert went to annoy the boy by shoving his meat stick down between the boy’s thrusting buttocks.  Markus’ awareness was high and though he was “in the groove” and liked it (a lot!) he checked back over his shoulder at his sponsor.
	Robert wasn’t into butt fucking boys—and the boys in the crowded truck were thankful of that.  None of the lads were really aware of what “gay” meant or even referred to.  They heard the terms “butt fuck” and the many derivatives thereof, along with homo, cock sucker, butt munch(er) and so on.
	Markus got his rocks off and it blew his mind.  It was then forever etched in his mind that he wanted to do that again—and again—and then again some more.  The feeling was the most incredible thing ever!  Not only from his cock but the feeling was transmitted throughout his young bod.
	Carlton and Mick took their turns “breaking in” the young church singer who was dissed by her congregation.  Then Robert took his turn before focusing on Hanna.
	A break was needed—some air especially.
	A drive back to the highway and then off thru the night to a mid-sized desert town.  He got drinks and eats for his crew and thereafter crashed (sleep) on the backside of the same town.
*

	“Dang, Ro, I think your dad abandoned you!”
	Rhonda shot her naked friend a hard dirty look.
	“That’s not funny!” she snapped.
	Melinda shrugged, it wasn’t intended to be funny.  It was a statement of fact.
	Three days, and counting, and no sign of Rhonda’s dad, Robert.
	It was of some concern to Rhonda, he usually called in when he was going to be late—like hours late.  This was days late.  Where was he?  What was going on?  Was he in jail?  In a ditch?  Abducted by aliens?
	Ha-ha on the last one.  Aliens?  No such thing.  There were no ghosts, big foot, or aliens.  Right?

The Fucktard
	First Boy:  “Yeah, Johnny Hoyman’s a ho.”
	Second Boy:  “Yeah, a dirty faggoty ho!”
	First Boy:  “Tony Gaster’s a queer, too!”
	“I think Bobby Cusstain’s a homo, too.”
	“Yeah, he’s weird and probably is.”
	Aaron Insertnamehere and Brad Mynameismadeup dissed their fellow classmates, Johnny, Tony, and Bobby.  And there were others, but Johnny, Tony, and Bobby were the main ones—to be dissed.
	Aaron and Brad were mere lads of thirteen.  Aaron had sandy brown hair while Brad had jet black hair to just passed his ears.  Both were good lads, slim sized bodies, middle income family, Republican, and they hated homos, gays, and faggots.  The boys were in the backyard of Aaron’s home in the clubhouse.  It was not a treefort or treehouse ‘cause it wasn’t in a tree.
	“Donny Roundhouse’s a butt muncher I bet.” said Aaron.
	“Yeah, I bet so,” said Brad, “I wouldn’t get naked around him!”
	The boys laughed and munched on some snacks and drained some sodas.
	It was early evening; the boys’ parental units were at work leaving the young lads up to their own.  They continued talking about the boys in their junior high school who were deemed “homos.”  Then,
	‘Take off your clothes.’
	The Voice seemed right there with them and startled them.
	“What?” said Aaron.
	‘Get naked.’ The Voice said again.
	“Holy shit!” blurted Brad.
	Just then and a figure came into being.
	He was tall, clad in some sort of long black leather outer coat.
	He wore a black beard with dark hair, too.  Black square tip shit kicker boots, black pants, black shirt.  He might have been black skinned, too.  There was something funny about his eyes—they shinned!
	‘Take—off—your—clothes!’ the Voice was demanding and reverberated in the boys’ minds.
	It felt like they were being smothered—like the weight of heavy mattresses piling onto their shoulders and then all around them.
	‘It’s better to do what you are told than not.’ spoke the Voice burning into their skulls.
	“JESUS!” cried out Aaron.
	“FUCKING GOD ALMIGHTY!” blurted out Brad.
	The boys, though, still resisted.
	The Voice then so therefore brought out a motivator—another handheld device NOT an EMAD.  A cattleprod.
	On a four foot long metal rod at the end was an electronic bug zapper normally used to “motivate” a cow to moooo-ve along.  It also was suitable in motivating stubborn boys into shedding their clothing.  And after squirreling on the floor for a couple of minutes, crying, cringing, blubbering and drooling they did so.
	‘Excellent!’
	‘Now, embrace one another!’
	“Oh, shit!” blubbered Brad.
	The boys, naked, embraced one another—and on further commands rubbed their hands on the other’s ass followed by,
	‘Put your lips together.’
	“Jesus!”
	No comment and nothing else followed—except for the reluctant sniveling boys “kissing.”
	After the pressing of lips came the inevitable Frenching.
	“Aw, man!” whined Aaron.  But the snap-sizzle of the cattleprod put him and his friend into the position normally reserved for boys and girls.  It lasted a few seconds—just long enough to please the Voice.
	‘Good,’ said the Voice, ‘now, one of you—to your knees.’
	There was a pause.  Both boys knew in their minds what was in store.
	When the hesitation lingered longer than the Voice liked—the cattleprod was activated and Brad dropped to his knees quickly.
	‘You’re learning—still, though,’ and Brad’s bare ass was zapped with the prod sending him reeling to the floor and Aaron cringing in a fetal position.
	‘I’ll shove this prod up your asses if you don’t get back into position!’
	Crying, sniveling, begging, Aaron stood and Brad got on his knees.
	‘Suck him.’
	It was a deplorable thing to do and neither lad cared for it.
	They had only heard of such things but had no real idea what “cock sucking” was about.
	“You’d better not pee in my mouth!” quipped Brad as he took Aaron’s schlong. He retched almost instantly as the limp penis was kissed by his lips.  Just the very idea made him sick.  With his eyes closed he engulfed Aaron’s dong and then bobbed his head up and down the growing shaft.
	‘Do you like it?’ asked the Voice to Aaron.
	“Fuck you!” shouted vehemently Aaron.
	The Voice chuckled, then snapped the cattleprod into life wavering it before the now pissed off boy.  Aaron gulped, sweated, and did in facto feel some joy in getting his dick sucked.  And thankfully it was only for a couple of minutes.
	And when Brad pulled back there was a healthy pink-reddish cock rock wavering before him.
	‘Before you stand up,’ mused the Voice, ‘rub his cock—all over your face!’
	“You sick fuck!” shouted Aaron.
	Brad breathed hard and struggled to keep himself together.  He agreed to himself, ‘You sick fuck!’  Once more he closed his eyes then leaned in and took his friend’s dick “rubbing it all over his face.”
	Then, of course, it was Aaron’s turn—or Brad’s turn depending on how you look it.  Brad stood on trembling legs blinking his eyes excessively as his friend worked his mouth on his organ.  Like Aaron, there was some joyous feeling stemming from the oral procedure and though he initially tried to deny the good feeling he actually began to reel from it.
	‘Now,’ continued the Voice, ‘turn around.’
	“Who?” said Brad, “M-me or him?”
	‘Take a guess.’ said dryly the Voice.
	“It’s me.” concluded Aaron.  He was right and turned about, then;
	‘And bend over.’
	“Sweet fucking Jesus!” mouthed Brad.
	Aaron wept and hoped he didn’t fart.
	‘Spread his cheeks,’ continued the Voice, ‘kiss his hole.’
	“You sick fucking bastard!” yelled Brad, “What the fuck’s your goddamn problem!?”
	Good question.
	Aaron shook his head sadly and gripped his knees as he heard the cattleprod come to life.  Then he smelled burning flesh as the prod singed Brad—repeatedly.
	Nothing was said (not from the Voice.)  Brad mumbled incoherently while Aaron seemed to be praying.

	“Praying to your god?”
	“Y-es,” cried Aaron, “D-don’t you believe in God?”
	The Voice chuckled—more of a snicker, “Do I believe?” more chuckling,
	“I prayed nightly when my dad beat the shit out me and my mom.  I killed that sonofabitch when I was thirteen.  I prayed nightly when the boys in the reform school beat the shit out of me.  Think someone can spend most their life in the slam scrapping for every bit of breath on a daily basis and NOT believe?  I absolutely believe—in God—and I absolutely hate the fucker!”
	Ten minutes passed before Brad got his composure.  He parted Aaron’s ass cheeks and applied his lips for the “kiss.”  Then the second part of the disgusting command—the lick.  Licking ass was worse than licking dick.  Thankfully it was only a few seconds—but of course, the act would reign in his mind forever.
	“Now,” said the Voice not using the EMAD to transmit, “fuck him.”
	“Jesus, dude!” cried Brad.
	Aaron clenched, held his breath, and waited.
	Despite the horror of it all—sucking dick, rubbing dick on his face, being zapped, licking butt hole, he had a hard on.  Thirteen year old Brad Mynameismadeup had a boner.  He had never fucked a girl and had only recently began fucking his hand—he was more into humping his bed thinking of every girl (and one teacher) in his class.  Slowly he inserted himself into his friend’s virgin shit pipe.  It wasn’t easy.  His cock, despite being hard, bent.  He managed the head but not much more.
	“Get it in there!” demanded the Voice.
	“Fuck, dude, it wont go!” snapped back Brad.
	The Voice zapped Brad’s bare ass and when the boy flung himself about to try and possibly fight the intruder—he got his dangling balls zapped, too.  This totally incapacitated the boy for more than several minutes.
	An eerie silence befell the clubhouse.  Aaron wept and continued to pray.
	“What’s wrong with your eyes?” Aaron asked at length.
	The Voice laughed, his eyes shinned strangely in the dark, they were like reflective—especially in pure darkness.
	“You gotta kill a few people,” he chuckled, “then, when in the slam, you hook up with a whacked up doctor who’ll do anything for fifty packs of special smokes.  Then he’ll do a whack job on your eyes.” Only this—and nothing more!
	“Why?” asked Brad recovering and sitting on his knees.
	“So I can see people in the dark.” smiled Vinny, Vinny the Moon.
	“And kill them?” surmised Aaron.
	“Whatever.”
	“Are-are you dangerous?” asked nervously Aaron.
	“Only around humans.”
	Brad completed the assigned task of butt humping his friend.  Using his own underwear he wiped clean his “dirtied” cock and stood uneasily—waiting.  He didn’t have to wait long, Aaron stood, rubbed his fucked ass, then turned around.  He felt ill and was sure he was going to hurl any moment.
	“On your knees.” cooed Vinny.
	“Shit.” breathed Aaron.
	He hesitated half a moment then went to his knees.  He took Brad’s dong, masturbated it, kissed the piss slit, then engulfed the slender organ tasting and smelling the refuse of his ass.  He retched and gagged, that was a given.  His emotions were a wreck but he managed to maintain himself and complete the deed—including rubbing the slobbered on dick all over his face.
	Then Brad turned about, bent over, and spread his own cheeks.
	Aaron sighed, he was broken.  He stared longingly at his friend’s shit hole, shook his head, sighed again then pressed his lips to the clenching sphincter.  This was followed by licking it for far longer than he thought he should.
	“Fuck him and your just about done.”
	As Aaron plowed his friend’s shitter “just about done.”?
	Brad had managed to hold off cumming in Aaron’s crapper but Aaron had reached that mighty apex and released a copious amount of jizum.  The release was mighty and magnificent.  He had jerked off before, in the shower and on his bed, but fucking—regardless of the situation, was wondrous!
	And of course, after the boys had done one another—
	“Suck me!” Vinny demanded.
	The broken boys complied, Aaron first.  Vinny smiled and rubbed his throbbing hard schlong all over the boy’s face pressing hard having the lad suckle his hairless nads whilst he humped his cock against the boy’s nose.  Brad sucked the man off.  He was ready to spew anyways and did so into the boy’s mouth.
	Brad vomited.
	There was a hell of a lot of spew and it was way gross.  Way.
	Afterwards and the boys were positioned across Vinny’s lap and spanked.
	Butt fucking followed.
	Both lads lay crumbled on the floor of the clubhouse well broken.  Their young minds frapped.  The horrible man in their midst finished cleaning off his butt fucking cock then said unto them—
	“And for tomorrow to next Friday you will do the same—every day—right here.”
	The boys stared at one another in some confused wonderment.
	“Every day you will come in here, get naked, kiss, suck, and fuck.”
	“Jesus!”
	“Sonofabitch!”
	“Afterwards, you will take a shower together, pee on each other, more kissing, sucking, and fucking.” Then,
	“And if you don’t—” he chortled then clicked on the cattleprod.
	“You sick fuck!”
	“What the fuck’s wrong with you!?” demanded Aaron.
	“Just do it and you can avoid the unpleasantries.”
	The boys eyed the electronic motivator and nodded their heads.
	“There will be a bonus at the end of the week, IF you fully comply.”
	“What?” asked a disenchanted Aaron.
	“Fuck us at the same time?” bitched Brad.  He didn’t know how it could happen but he wasn’t putting it past the fucktard to be able to do it.
	“I’ll help you get laid.”
	The boys looked to one another.
	“Whattya mean?” asked Aaron.
	“A girl, two, three, whatever.  Pussy.”
	The boys blinked their eyes trying to get a grip.
	“Girls your age, older, younger.  Girls you know, don’t know, neighborhood girls—just girls.”
	The boys were a little more enlightened, not brightened, but enlightened.
	They nodded and the mysterious “fucktard” left them. 

Interlewd
	“Let’s take a shower.”
	Aaron nodded, collected his clothes—didn’t put them on—and dashed to the house.  Naked Brad followed.  The parental units wouldn’t be home for some time yet.  It was evening type time, there was pizza money on the counter.  The boys made for the upstairs bathroom exclusive for Aaron.  He had an older brother who was away at college and another who was in the Army away overseas.  Aaron was the youngest and he had no plans for college or military service.
	Turning the shower on Aaron paused,
	“W-what should we do?” seldom had he ever been naked with another dude.  Just at summer camp and with his brothers.  He and Brad had of course peed together out in the backyard and while camping, hiking, at school, but never checked out the other’s schlong (let alone suck it!)
	“I-I don’t know.” said a nervous Brad.
	“How’s that fucker gonna know if you do all that stuff he wants us to do?”
	Good question.
	“I don’t know,” said a reflecting Brad, “he was there in the clubhouse and we didn’t know he was there.”
	Aaron sighed then stepped into the shower—Brad followed.
	Brad stood with his back to the back of the tiled shower/bath combo.
	Aaron stood with his head down; the shower water on his back.
	“Soooo, what the fuck?” drawled Aaron being sheepish.
	“What the fuck, what?”
	“What the fuck should we do?”
	“Man, I aint kissin’ you!” said a determined Brad.
	“Me, either!” almost shouted Aaron.
	A long pause.  Both boys looked out into the bathroom.  The door was closed but did that mean anything?
	“I sure as shit don’t want to get zapped.”
	Aaron nodded, sighed, “Ok, soooo, let’s do it and get it over with.”
	“He said he would get us girls?  Think that’s true?”
	“I dunno, wait and see, I guess.”
	The boys closed their eyes and did the narly—they kissed.
	First it was a peck then to appease the unseen fucktard they Frenched.
	The boys were at first disgusted—then they giggled and laughed.
	“Suck me, bitch!” chortled Aaron.
	“You suck me!”
	Aaron went to his knees and performed the desired task.  Brad’s dong wasn’t fully hardened in the beginning but after a few Ups and Downs it was.  Aaron gripped his friend’s ass clinging hard as he tenaciously slurped Brad’s dick.  He sucked and sucked, pulled back and rubbed the dong (on his volition) all over his face, masturbated the thing asking, “You about to cum?”
	“Nah,” replied Brad, “I’ll wait until I’m in your ass!”
	The boys laughed and then Brad took Aaron’s cock into his mouth.

	Saturday; clean the garage, clean room, take refuse to the dump, hang with dad while he yapped with old friends at a former warehouse he worked out (bored out of his mind—but thankfully Aaron had his iPod.)
	Brad’s chores for a Friday—keep out of sight of parental units.  He was an only child; sometimes that was ok.  Other times he wished he had siblings—so as he could pass the blame for some shit he did or the pissed off parents had options to take their pissed offedness off on.
	Both Brad’s parents worked thru the week and fucked off during the weekend.  That suited Brad; he fucked off during the weekend, too.
	Girls.  The fucktard had said he would get them girls.  Really?  Or was he bullshitting them?  Girls.  Hmmm  there were a indeed a few girls on his list he’d like to see—naked.  But sex?  Brad didn’t know how that would come about.  Would the fucktard force the girls to have sex with him and Aaron?

	Meeting up with his pal at the pizzeria,
	“Hey, faggot, what’s doin’!?” said Aaron in greeting.
	“That’s not funny!” bitched Brad.
	“Sorry.” said Aaron shrugging.
	The boys pooled their money and got pizza and drinks.
	“Man, look at Heather Bangum.” said Aaron almost drooling.
	“Yeah, she’s got a nice butt.”
	“Yeah, so do you!” chuckled Arron.
	Brad bowed his head shaking it sadly muttering, “You’re such a douche!”
	But Heather Bangum, thirteen, did have a “nice butt.”  Clad in turquoise jeans the just beginning teenager had the boys’ attention.  Long blond hair, nice beginner’s titties, a great form, soft creamy white skin, and what a face!  Try as they might, neither horndog boy could imagine what she looked like naked.
	“There’s Tiffany Yankumtight.” Aaron had a thing for Tiffany; long silky blond hair sometimes styled and sometimes just straight.  Regardless, the girl had Aaron’s heart.  He beat off thinking about her—often.  She always smelled sooooo good!  That smile, those eyes, those bouncy titties and very nice ass.  Often she wore dresses or skirts but also clad her bod in jeans—tight designer jeans that gave Aaron a reason to live.
	The boys played some video games, ogled more girls, avoided some bully boys who came into the established, contemplated the mysterious fuctard in their lives, then slipped out of the pizzeria further contemplating.
	“Soooo, what should we do now?” inquired Aaron.
	Brad was silent, hands in his pockets, deeply thinking—and contemplating.
	“I suppose we could go to your place and—”
	“Clubhouse?”
	“Clubhouse.”
	Just to get it over with.
	But what bothered the lads, among other things, was the Fuctard had said “everyday.”  From now (Friday) till next Friday.  Everyday.  It didn’t sit well with the boys.  No, not at all.
	The other thing that bothered the boys was—
	“How would he know if we do that stuff he wants us to do?”
	Brad shrugged.  “I dunno.  But he knows.”
	The boys slowly tredged their way along the sidewalk of the mini mall, pausing at the smoke shop to get a whiff of the illegal delights within.  At the video store they paused again but didn’t go inside—inside were video game machines beckoning for their monies.  Also, a couple of bully boys Aaron and Brad would rather avoid.

	“Dana Danes.” remarked Aaron.
	“Yeah, that girl from Ms. Peterson’s class, PE.”  She was fourteen, Dana, not Ms. Peterson.
	“Yeah, she’s cute—”
	“And her mother.” Aaron said lowly—but Brad heard anyways.
	“And her mother!?  Dude, sick!”
	“You obviously haven’t seen her mother.”
	“Why?”
	“’cause she’s fuckin’ hot!” both Dana and her mother could be identical twins.  And Aaron wanted to see just how “identical” they were.
	They had enough money between for a large slurpee at the 7-11.  A slow walk back to their neighborhood making a trek thru the park.  It was Saturday and the park was full.  
	“Dude!” Brad said noting his friend checking out the little girls.  They were in their cheerleader outfits doing tumbles, cartwheels, and handstands.  Not really appropriate for girls so young—eight to ten years clad in short-short skirts.
	Aaron giggled, blushed, and diverted his attention elsewhere.
	The boys got involved in playing some Frisbee games with some other patrons of the park; they played with some dogs and watched the teenage girls from the local high school playing volleyball.  Finally, as early evening neared they made for Aaron’s home and the backyard clubhouse.
	Not surprising to find Aaron’s parents gone for the evening.  They left money for pizza; also not surprising.  They boys weren’t hungry, though.  They could have gotten immersed in some video games, gotten into the liquor cabinet, invited some friends over for an impromtued party, but they shuffled out to the clubhouse.
	With a huff, “Let’s just do it and get it over with.”
	Aaron nodded and shucked his clothes.
	The clubhouse was constructed by Aaron’s construction worker dad; material “acquired” from his construction job sites.  Good solid wooden sides, flooring, and ceiling/roof.  There were windows and one door; the windows had heavy wooden blinds and there was even a window air conditioner!
	A sofa, big fat overstuffed living room chair, a wooden spool table, made up the “furniture”.
	Aaron was first out of his clothes, he scratched his balls and rubbed his ass keeping his head down being sheepish about his nudity.  Brad slowly got out of his clothes, sighed, farted, then choked his chicken a couple of times before saying,
	“Man, I aint lickin’ your asshole!”
	Aaron nodded, “Yeah, me neither, fuck that guy!”
	Brad then reconsidered his thoughts and looked around.
	“I still don’t know how he will know if we mess around or not.”
	Aaron didn’t know and casually trying to be sly about it looked around.
	“I dunno, man,” he said at length, “we were here alone and then suddenly that fucktard was here makin’ us do shit.”
	Brad rubbed his arm where the prongs of the cattleprod had zapped.
	Fifty thousand volts charged up in the cattle motivator, then when touching skin it drops to five thousand.  Still, 
	“Ok, so—I guess we’re doing this?” Brad said not so enthused.
	“Yeah, I-I guess so.”
	The boys faced one another.
	“Soooo, what’ll we do first?”
	“Suck dick?”
	Brad shook his head, “Nah, that fucker wants us to—” he licked his lips, sighed dejectedly and struggled to come up with the unsaid.
	“What?” asked Aaron being oblivious.
	Brad looked to him square in the eyes—“Kiss.”
	“Aw, man!”
	The boys both sighed, shook their heads, then embraced (hands on the other’s ass.)
	“I cant fuckin’ believe we’re doin’ this.” bitched Aaron.
	“Yeah, me either—faggot.” he tried to chuckle and make whimsy of the situation but his gut suggested otherwise.
	“Ok, homo,” said Aaron, “let’s just fuckin’ do this shit and get it the fuck over with!”
	“’k.”
	The boys embraced more and kissed.
	Strangely, although it was “gross” the boys sort of kind of got into it.
	Sort of kind of.
	They Frenched and weirdly found themselves uniquely horny.  Their puds were stiff and an ache for beating off consumed them.  But first!
	“Dude, I aint lickin’ your asshole!”
	Aaron nodded, he wasn’t to apt into that disgusting deed, either.  But,
	“What if he finds out?”
	Brad was still defiant.  “No way!  No fucking how!”  then,
	“You can lick mine if you want.” he said with a giggle.
	“I just don’t want to get zapped by that thing.”
	Wrinkling his nose thoughtfully, “Yeah, me either.”
	Looking around the confines of the clubhouse,
	“How’s the fuck’s he gonna know!?”

	“Dude, I-I don’t want to get zapped.”
	“Me, either,” said Brad, “that shit hurt!”
	Nearly two minutes passed before Aaron turned around and “bent over.”
	“Ok, you do me and I’ll do you.” famous last words…
	“You’d better not fart on me, motherfucker!” snapped Brad.
	Aaron giggled, “I wont.” ‘but I do have a turd pending…’
	It was way disgusting—staring at another’s dude cornhole.  Brad closed his eyes and held his breath (he’d rather go back to kissing!)  A brief flick of his tongue to Aaron’s crap chute and he called it a done deal.
	“Dude!” he said standing up, “That is SOOOO gross!”
	Aaron agreed—and didn’t look forward to his turn.
	Another look around and another wonder “How that guy gonna know?”
	Brad parted his cheeks, clenched his hole, and again held his breath.
	Aaron shook his head—this was worse than the first time.  A flick of the tongue, though, and it was over.  He stood up quickly,
	“Ok, goddamn it, what’s next?”
	Brad stepped flopping his surprisingly hard cock.  There was a bemused swaggery smile on his face; his hair cascaded at an angle across his eyes.  There were a few freckles to adorn his boyish face; he nodded to his friend and didn’t say a word.
	“Aw, man!” bitched Aaron.
	“Just do it, dude.”
	“Yeah, yeah—and get it over with, I know—I know.” Sighing, “I’d rather lick Tiffany’s asshole!”
	Brad nodded, “Yeah, I’d rather you lick Tiffany’s asshole, too.” Let that sink in…
	Aaron bobbed his head up and down and concluded oddly that he would indeed much rather KISS his friend than suck his dick.  The thing was foul in his mouth—well, not really foul but the very idea was foul.  The member tasted like—string cheese?  That was weird.  But then so was the whole thing they were doing—almost willingly!
	“Man, you’d better not cum off while I’m doing this!” warned Aaron.
	“You do the same, faggot!”
	Aaron would have responded with a snap but held himself and engulfed Brad’s dong.  Just a few bobs up and down he hoped would suffice.  He stood and watched as seemingly in agony Brad masturbated.
	“Dude, I’m about ready to bust—I gotta fuck your ass!”
	Aaron stared at his naked masturbating friend.
	“Jesus Christ!”
	Did they just hear a giggle?
	As Brad took Aaron’s dong into his mouth, Aaron looked around the darkening clubhouse.  There, in the corner—was-was there something there?  Someone?  He stared and stared; of which made his eyes water and hurt.  Brad completed his cocksucking task and stood up.
	“Ok,” he said, “and next?”
	“Butt fucking.” said Aaron lowly.  But before they engaged in that immoral task, Aaron took his friend by the elbow and pulled him to him.
	“Dude?” said a confused Brad, “We already did this shit.”
	“Shhhh,” cautioned Aaron, “I-I think that guy’s here.”
	“Shit.” then, “You sure?”
	“Cant tell, but—but maybe.”
	“Fuck.”
	“Yep.”
	“My ass.”
	“Oh.”
	Aaron turned himself around, bent over, spread his cheeks, and prepared for ramming.  He had already taken Brad’s cock—and then the Fucktard’s.  Both times he had barely been conscious of the deed.  It wasn’t normal.  
	Brad made dutiful entry into his friend’s cornhole; his cock was mighty hard and mighty determined.  It bent but he managed to get the head in—the shaft followed and that was followed by good ole fashioned ass mastering.
	“God-fucking-damn!” Aaron seethed.  He determined that it was far-far better to fuck than be fucked.  He coughed, sputtered, and wished his friend would hurry up and cum.
	Brad didn’t “hurry up and cum”; he pumped and pumped then pulled out, slapped his dirtied dick against his friend’s creamy white ass then went back into the tight sphincter to complete the deed (and task).
	Aaron cussed up a streak as he stood up.
	“Jezus!” he bellowed.
	Brad was embarrassed (but also giddy.)
	“My turn, motherfucker!”
	Brad giggled, “Alright, bitch, alright!” he turned about and got on his hands and knees, “I think this is how it’s done.”
	“Whatever.”
	Entry was made—it was at first not as to his liking as he thought.  Or something.  He wanted to butt fuck his friend ‘cause he had butt fucked him; but then, the act disgusted him.  Fucking a dude’s asshole—not cool.
	But as Aaron pumped there was an undeniable feeling stemming from the foul deed.  He began to pump harder; he didn’t pull out and slap his dirty dong against his friend’s ass he continued to go until he came off.
	In the shower the boys washed their dongs then though embarrassed playfully got into a cockfight.  They couldn’t “pee” on each other as the Fucktard guy had commanded of them—their dicks were hard and disallowed their ability to relieve themselves.
	They ordered pizza and made thick-super-thick ice cream shakes.  They remained naked, only dressing when the pizza guy showed up with their large Hawaiian-pepperoni-bacon-ham pizza.
	But it was a girl and not a dude.
	The girl was a young adult woman; jet black hair super-super curly, thin build, nice-nice titties, great form, fantastic face, nice ass.  She was sweet and was amused at the half naked boys.
	“So what are you little horndogs up to tonight?” she asked sweetly not knowing.  The boys got flustered and stuttered.
	“J-just messin’ around.” Quipped Aaron—to wit his friend bashed him giving him a dirty look.  Aaron’s reference to “messin’ around” was different thinking than Brad’s.
	“Amy” grinned and flashed those beautiful blue eyes.  Oh how they shined!
	“We’re just having a private party,” Aaron said, “parents gone so we’re kinda on our own.”
	“Private party?” Amy inquired.
	The boys were caught off guard.
	“W-what?” asked a awkward Aaron.
	“Maybe I can bring you something more than pizza for this “private” party.”
	The boys were clueless but nodded their sheepish heads, “Sure, ok, yeah.” 
	Sure, ok, yeah.

Amy
	I deliver more than just pizza
	“I gotta couple more deliveries to make, but if you would like, I can come back and we can have our own little “private” party.” she smiled (wickedly?)
	No matter, horndogs Aaron and Brad were all on board for the “private” party.  They stood at the door holding the fresh/hot pizza mesmerized.
	“Did what just happen—happen?” asked up Aaron.
	“Dude, I-I think we’re gonna get laid!”
	A full five minutes elapsed before the boys made way to the kitchen.  Then they sat for another five full minutes in wonderment.
	“It’s a dream.” Brad concluded.  “We’re having some sort of fucked up dream.”
	“Both of us?” quipped Aaron.

	“Yeah, I’m dreaming about you and you’re dreaming about me and we’re both dreaming about that girl.”
	Sounds legit.
	Neither boy was hungry.  They sat—and waited.
	And waited.
	And waited some more.
	Then,
	Knock!  Knock!  Knock!
	Amy had returned.
	Holy shit!  She was even hotter than she was the first time at the door.
	She had worn a company red shirt and black ditto jeans; now she was clad in a black teeshirt with a bloodied skull emblazoned on the front (bloodied ‘cause it had a dagger thru one of its eye holes.)  The shirt revealed a great deal of midriff.  The company jeans were replaced by a pair of short black cut-off jeans.
	Brad betted that she was going “commando”—no panties.
	Along with another box of pizza she brought a baggie.
	A baggie of weed.
	“Want to party?” she said slyly.
	In the kitchen and Amy looked, “Nice.” she said.
	“We still got pizza!” chortled Aaron.  Brad hung his head sadly.
	“Do you want to do it here?” Amy asked somewhat surreptitiously.
	“Do what?” Aaron had to ask.
	“He’s such a douche!” murmured Brad.
	Amy didn’t answer but gave the boys a somewhat whimsical look.
	Both lads had delusions of grandeur with thoughts of the narly kind.
	“Uh, maybe his room?” Brad surmised.  “More privacy,” he continued, “just in case his folks come back early.”
	Amy wasn’t keen on “folks returning early.” It would have to be an early night.  She followed the boys up the stairs to Aaron’s room.
	“So,” drawled Amy, approximately in her early 20s, “you want to do first?”
	“Uh—” the boys were perplexed.  Being ultra horndogs will do that to ya.
	Amy opened her little baggie and expertly rolled a joint.  Then she lit it up and using a roach clip passed it to the awestruck boys.  Neither boy had ever smoked a joint—but had said they had to each other and to their friends.
	The boys sputtered, choked, and were indeed novices.
	Amy smiled and held her giggle.  She took a hit, passed it, the boys choked, she finished the joint; then,
	“So, have you been with a girl yet?” kinda bold and invasive but we’re not dealing with a normal girl (woman.)

	The boys shot each other a look.  Neither were quite sure what she implied.
	“I think she means, have we BEEN with a girl.”
	Aaron stared blankly at his friend.  He had no idea what was inferred.
	Amy slowly-s-l-o-w-l-y pulled off her top.  She wore a sports bra and that was unhitched and dropped to the floor.  The boys’ eyes followed the undergarment resting their beleaguered eyes thereon—then slowly-s-l-o-w-l-y raising them to rest upon Amy’s bare naked titties.
	“Holy fucking ape shit!” blurted Aaron.
	Brad was speechless.
	Amy stood up and shucked her black shorts.
	Brad was right, she was going commando.
	Amy stood with hands on her hips eyeing the boys.
	“Well?” she said.
	“Well—what?” asked Aaron.
	Brad nodded his head and had a quirky smile.
	“D-dude, I-I think she wants us to—”
	Aaron looked to his friend hungrily, “What?” he need absolute clarity.
	“Take off our clothes.” Brad said—but he wasn’t for sure sure.
	Looking to the naked Amy, she smiled and slightly nodded her head.
	Aaron couldn’t breathe and sat in a stupor while Brad virtually raced out of his clothes.  His cock was raging hard and Amy feasted her eyes on it.
	“You little devil!” she almost squealed.
	Brad got embarrassed but couldn’t look away from the naked damsel.
	“Do you want me to help?” Amy asked of Aaron.
	Aaron, still mesmerized, didn’t respond.  Brad nudged him,
	“Dude, take off your clothes!”
	Slowly and Aaron undressed and stood with a moderate boner raging.
	Amy stepped up and handled the boys’ wangs “expertly.”
	She smelled sooooo good!  The boys were melting and were mere putty in her hands.  She fondled their balls then skillfully manipulated their dongs with both her hands—and then her mouth.
	Aaron was in orbit.  Brad was on another world.  Both lads had blown one another, the colloquial term for sucking.  Neither had the talent that Amy had.  She rolled her tongue about the super sensitive crown of their dongs, diddled the piss slit, then slid her mouth down their super stiffened peckers before bobbing her head up and down getting a healthy wad of cum for her efforts.
	The boys muttered something under their breath; unintelligible.

	Amy laid out on Aaron’s bed, spread her legs, and since it was Aaron’s room, first dibs!  There were no pubes on Amy’s cunt, nay not one!  The boys had no idea that girls shaved themselves there.  Aaron nervously came up to the woman’s opened legs but couldn’t move any further.  He had the basic concept of how to fuck a girl but his sheer virginity fouled his mind.
	No matter, Amy helped out the cause guiding the boy onto the bed whereupon SHE mounted him!  Brad stood behind them watching in utter awe as Amy’s womanhood slid down engulfing Aaron’s dong.
	“Holy shit!” he breathed.
	Amy chuckled and clenched her cunt onto Aaron’s prick swallowing it (and getting off!)
	Aaron instinctively began to pump UP into Amy’s cunt.  She moved his hands up to her nice-nice 28-B’s  His cock swelled and graciously ignited the woman who was riding him.  She began to bounce and moan—it was not so unlike the bullrides in the bars.
	Brad manhandled his cock watching his friend getting laid.
	It was a mind blower.  The concept of sex he had down but the experience was lacking.  Strangely he focused on the woman’s pert asshole.  He had fucked his friend’s asshole—now he wanted to fuck Amy’s!
	How long the two were coupled—unknown.  They fucked and pumped, tussled and engaged in Missionary, Reverse Missionary, and Around-the-World (the gal sits on the guy’s dong and spins around.)  Aaron squeezed off two rounds of spunk while Amy gushed out three!
	Finally, exhausted, she rolled off and lay heaving on her back.
	(later on when by themselves and Brad said to Aaron, “Dude, her pussy farted!”  “No way!”  “Way!”  then, “I was there, right there and saw and HEARD her pussy cut one!”)
	And wouldn’t you know it, just as Brad was going to “get some” there was noise downstairs—the parental units had come home.
	Aaron flew into his clothes and dashed downstairs to greet his folks.
	Meanwhile, upstairs, Brad and Amy slipped into the walk-in closet (still naked.)  Aaron’s dad asked “whose car is that at the curb?” Amy’s.
	But Aaron shrugged, “I dunno, it’s been there all evening.”
	The parental units were tired and disappointed with their evening out.  They retired to their room and Aaron wondered how he was going to get Amy out of the house.  Brad was one thing and acceptable—but the pizza delivery woman?
	At first and Aaron thought his guests had already made their way out.
	Then he heard moaning coming from his closet.
	Brad Mynameismade up was gettin’ some after all!
 
	Afterwards and the three slipped out of the house to the clubhouse where they smoked another joint, slugged down some whiskey (Amy had snagged some of Aaron’s dad’s private stock (among other things…)) and then got down to the business of out and out fucking.
	It was da bomb!
	Somewhere around midnight and the “party” was over and the boys woke up, naked.  They still reeled from the effects of the pot—and getting righteously laid.  Come the morning and Aaron’s dad was missing his watch he had put on the counter with his car keys—a typical routine.  Luckily and Aaron’s mother thought he might have “lost” it at the party.  Later on and Aaron’s mother found her crystal egg from the mantle “missing.”  Some other nifty little nick-knack’s were also “missing” in action; small things that added up to a tidy sum.
	Hmmm  Can we say Amy got her pizza tip after all?

	It was Sunday—a day to sleep in.  Well, for parental units disgruntled over their night out.  Aaron was up and still freaked out by the happenstance of Amy.  He met up with Brad at the park, the boys giggled and continued to believe it was all a dream.  They made the day of it, pausing at a church that was letting out for the day at noon.
	“Looky at them girls!” teen girls had Brad’s attention, younger girls had Aaron’s.  Both boys now had a clearer idea of what a girl looked like naked.  It drove them crazy.
	The day was spent checking out the various girls—of various ages.
	“Donna Long,” mused Brad, “I could do her.”
	“Who is she?”
	“My cousin Kate’s best friend.”
	Brad’s cousin Kate could make the blind run away screaming.  Her best friend, however, could make the angels sigh.
	“Bet she wouldn’t do you!”
	“I aint so bad!”
	“You got a nice ass!” chirped Aaron.
	“You’re such a douche!”
	The boys jostled one another and made for Aaron’s home—and the clubhouse.
	“Man, wish that girl would come back over.”
	Brad flopped onto the sofa, “Yeah, and bring pizza!  I’m starved!”
	“And a joint!”
	The boys giggled and then slowed to the pending embarrassment.
	“Soooo, we gonna do this or what?”
	Brad shrugged, “I guess so.”
	Both still wondered how the Fucktard would know if they messed around or not.  But neither wanted to find out lest they be “touched” by the cattleprod.  They had discussed ratting the fucker out, but—
	“Then our parents would know, the cops, everyone.”
	Aaron nodded, ‘everyone.’  He didn’t want ANYONE to know about what he and Brad did (or were forced to do) in the clubhouse.  They’d never live it down and would have to move.
	Aaron shuffled out of his clothes and stood methodically playing with his dick.  Brad paused, farted, then kicked off his shoes followed by getting naked as well.
	“Wish you were a girl!” said Brad offhandedly.
	Aaron smiled, shrugged, and didn’t have anything to say back.
	The naked boys stood facing one another and it just seemed to sort of happen—they held hands.  It was way more than awkward.  Way more.
	“This is fucked up.” said Brad.
	“Let’s just do it and get it over with.”
	Brad nodded, looked around still wondering how the fuck the Fucktard would know if they were doing what he told them or not.  Then he noticed his friend transfixed on his face.
	“Dude.” Brad said getting sheepishly embarrassed and all kinds of awkward.
	Aaron said nothing but leaned in for the kiss.
	Brad held his breath—other than licking butt hole kissing was pretty gross.
	Strangely, though, Brad felt some sort of strange feeling stirring within him.
	The boys held hands and then feverishly began groping one another’s backside, specifically their smooth skinned asses.  Their lip lock got intense firing up their sexuality.  And it was Brad who dropped to his knees firstly taking Aaron’s dong and sucking the very life out of it.
	“Man, I’m gonna cum!” he knew Brad didn’t want spunk in his mouth so he gave the warning.
	Brad didn’t seem to pay heed—or care.  He sucked and sucked and sucked and got a mouthful of jiz.  He masturbated the cock watching up close and to personal as sperm blasted out of the piss slit.
	With his cock drained, Aaron stood on wobbly legs—
	“I still cant fucking believe that girl last night.”
	“I think it was a fucking dream!”
	“Yeah, no shit, it HAD to be!”
	Kind of in a funk, Aaron made Brad happy (by slurping on his dick.)
	Thereafter, directly after, Brad turned around…

Thru the paces
	Monday  Middleton Junior Middle School
	Occasionally he had “noticed” Ms. Shever in his homeroom class.  Usually his mind was on his classmates, farting, suppressing a fart, and checking out the ten girls who shared his class.  After his interlude with Brad and then Amy, Ms. Shever “suddenly” became an object.
	She was in her mid twenties; super curly brown hair that bounced on her shoulders.  She made mention once that she had Italian heritage.  Nice-nice bouncy titties, small, delicate, delectable.  Most times and she wore a dress but occasionally pants, too—loose fitting.  And such a voice!  Angelic!
	There were strong fantasizes about the teacher.  And thanks to Amy the boy now had a very good idea what she looked like naked.  And today she was flirting about in a nice thin sheer summery just-to-the-knees dress.  Curiously, and Aaron wondered if SHE ever went commando!?
	Lee Ann Trapcoat.  She was a little on the short side, frizzy reddish brown hair, very round face, barely-there titties.  But she had a nice ass and as a bonus she acknowledged Aaron’s existence on the earth.  As per the norm girls hung with girls and guys hung with guys.  But there were exceptions; one being when Aaron and Lee Ann teamed up on a science project making water molecules.  She was cool; especially when she farted.
	Then there was Sally.
	Sally Moran.  She wasn’t absolutely pretty—but not ugly, either.  A very nice round face, nice eyes, a little taller than Lee Ann Trapcoat, bigger titties, tight-firm ass, and also was aware of his existence on the earth.  He hadn’t heard her fart (but always secretly wanted to.)
	Just before lunch and on the open hallway open to the overflow teacher’s parking lot Aaron met up face to face with the not-so-short statured girl.  She wore a semi tight boy’s shirt, checked and without sleeves and knee length britches.  More than once did Aaron fantasize about cumming on her face, dragging his balls across her face, and then fucking her brains out.
	He had an instant hard-on.
	‘Nice girl.’
	Aaron could only nod; she wasn’t pretty, she wasn’t “Tiffany” or half a dozen other girls of his school but she knew his name and was friendlier than those “other girls.”
	‘Would you like to see her—naked?’
	Again and Aaron could only nod.
	Brief pause—Aaron heard a “voice” but it sounded distant and like an echo.
	‘play with his cock’  ‘reach into his pants—play with his cock.’

	It was surreal—like a dream; Sally Moran “reached into his pants” and gripped his cock essentially playing with it.  Masturbating it.  Aaron was out of his mind.  This wasn’t happening.  Sally seemed—odd.  Her eyes seemed glazed over or something.  She seemed to be staring right thru him.
	From there they merged to the art room that was close by.  The art room took up a lot of space, two classrooms.  But it was currently closed—due to lack of funding for the instructors (along with the music department.)  But the cutting up of dead frogs class was still open!
	Once in the art class room and way back to the back area behind a partition,
	‘Take off your clothes.’
	Aaron thought the “voice” was speaking to him—the voice was direct and near booming in his head.  But Sally began undressing.  Aaron was mesmerized.  He was also enthralled (and elated.)  The extra large classroom was full of artsy things; desks, paints, easels, half naked clay models, and so on.  One side of the class had a bay of windows; all closed with the wooden slats to full darkened closed position.  There was just enough natural light, though, to allow Aaron to see Sally Moran naked.
	‘Let’s not waste time,’ the Voice said, ‘you get naked, too.’
	This time and Aaron directly heard the voice in his head.
	Dream or whatever Aaron wasn’t taking chances on missing out.  So what if he were having a psychotic episode?  He stripped down and never took his eyes of the naked Sally.
	A nice muffin the girl had—as she sat on a low desk (with her legs spread) Aaron eyed her nakedness and got all the harder.
	“Sonofabitch!” he breathed.  Scarcely had he really gotten to “eye” Amy the other night.  With the here and now he took some time in ogling and taking the girl in (into his mind.)
	‘Give her cunny a lick.’
	Aaron nodded and went to.
	Sally didn’t freak, scream, or beat him.
	Her pussy had a slight hint of pee.
	Regardless, Aaron liked it and licked it—or licked it and liked it.
	Unlike Amy, though, Sally’s snatch was furry with pubes.  Aaron didn’t care, he licked her slit and hardly had to have the coercion from the Voice to fuck.  He slid himself into Sally not really knowing if she were a virgin or not—or how to tell.  She was.  It was a new experience for him—fucking a girl.  He discovered that he liked it—a lot!  Butt fucking Brad was one thing—but cunt fucking was better.  Way better.
	When after he got his nuts off he stood back on wobbly legs and thought he saw—thought he saw “someone” move into position and fuck Sally.
	His mind was fraught with fatigue from doing Sally himself; confusion also was prevalent thus confounding his ability to make sense of what was going on.  He used Sally’s panties to clean off his cock; then, the mysterious figure that was there (or not there) stepped out of the way and coerced Aaron to “do her again.”
	Aaron needed little coercion and once more sunk his pud into Sally’s freshly broken in cunny.  He fucked his fill then,
	‘Now, my good laddy buck,’ said the Voice, ‘suck me.’
	It never was clear to Aaron later on reflection if the Voice was the Fuctard or another.  He wasn’t too keen on slurping schlong—it was a man dong and freshly explunged from Sally’s cunt.  He finally thought of Brad—but the man’s cock was not Brad’s.  He sucked the foul member and retched—very nearly vomiting.
	After sucking he put his mouth to Sally’s cum stained cunt and “received” a royal butt fucking.  The Voice’s ramming was dramatic and determinate causing Aaron to indeed scream into Sally’s pussy.

	“Dude, where you been, lunch period is almost over!”
	Aaron stared at his friend saying “I-I had to take a shit.”
	To wit Brad responded, “Thanks for sharing, I’d rather you got hit by a bus, a satellite fell on you, or raped by the math teacher!” creepy, but maybe not so far from the truth!

That evening at the clubhouse
	“Man, I dunno if I’m getting to like this shit or just getting used to it.”
	Brad nodded but said nothing.  The naked boys held hands and swayed as they awkwardly continued to comply to the Fucktard’s desires—er, command, decree, request.  Most things the boys did; cocksucking, rim jobs, and out and out butt fucking were tolerable and indeed considered to be acceptable and “getting used to it.”
	It was the kissing thing that bugged them the most.
	On one hand they were embarrassed and grossed out by the immoral deed.
	On the other hand—
	It got them horny.
	“I still wish you were a girl.” Aaron commented (afterwards.)
	“Yeah, me too.”  What?
	With their dicks raging hard (from kissing one another deeply and somewhat passionately) they engaged in cocksucking.  Ball fondling and ass grabbing followed—then rim jobbing followed by hot butt fucking.
	“Jesus, dude!” called out Brad as he received Aaron’s throbbing hard bone,
	“Take it easy!”
	Aaron’s mind was on Sally, Lee Ann, Tiffany.
	Although cornholing his best friend was alright, his mind wandered to the girls.  He determined that he was NOT gay—but it was tolerable and ok (but only with his friend.)  He couldn’t fathom in his mind if he had really actually fucked Sally Moran.
	In the shower—they found themselves kissing again, getting more passion for more anal play.  They sucked dick and with their schlongs sufficiently lubed by soap they sodomized one another—then did it again out of the shower and on the bathroom floor.  After drying off they merged into Aaron’s room, remaining naked and falling onto Aaron’s bed where they fell into a righteous bout of manplay—kissing, groping, humping, kissing, and cocksucking all around.
	“Dude,” said Brad, “I-I think we’re gay.”
	Aaron didn’t say anything but played with Brad’s pud—all the while Brad played his!  Nah, that didn’t mean they were gay…

Tuesday
	Math quiz in Mr. Jolmes’ class
	Brad hated math, and didn’t care for Mr. Jolmes much, either.
	Mr. Jolmes was—weird.  He muttered to himself—a lot.  He also had a habit of calling the guys “laddy buck.”  The girls didn’t like him; they thought he was some sort of uncouth pervert.
	Belinda Adnileb sat right in front of him.  Like Aaron with Tiffany, Brad had a desire (strong) for Belinda.  She was cute!  Not hot but cute.  A blond haired girl, not so blond but blond enough to be called “blond.”  Gorgeous eyes, a pert nose, a sweet smile, and a great body!  Brad doubted that she farted—but if she did, he wanted to be under her when she did!
	He’d give his left nut to see Belinda naked.
	He imagined her on the toilet, too!
	Mostly he thought of her in the shower and laying on her bed fingering herself.  More than anything he wanted to be there beside her fingering her, too!
	The quiz wasn’t so bad, but he hated converting fractions to decimals and back and forth.  “ten out of nine people have trouble with fractions.”  It gave him a headache and made him fidgety.
	After the quiz and the students were called up to the desk one at a time.
	Brad dreaded it, he knew he missed some.  Brad was one of those people who had “test anxiety.”  His penis itched, or tingled, or need mangled.  Something.  After math class he had PE so maybe he could work out some of that “anxiety” on the field.
	Mr. Creepy, er, Mr. Jolmes had a raspy voice and pointed out the four problems Brad had missed.  Brad nodded that he understood—but he didn’t really. He sighed and checked Belinda leaving.  He licked his lips and had a hard-on.
	That sway!  The girl had a nice-nice sway to her ass.  Brad was practically drooling.
	‘You like, eh, laddy buck?’
	“Damn straight!” breathed Brad.
	Suddenly, at the door, and Belinda stopped.
	Brad thought he heard a “voice” but it was far away and speaking like thru a paper towel tube.  Belinda closed the door and returned to the desk.  Brad was mystified and just looked at her—drooling.  Mr. Jolmes got up from the desk and went to the door placing a piece of paper over the small wire meshed window.  Then he locked the door and returned to the desk.
	‘Let’s play!’
	First play was Belinda coming around the desk and laying across Mr. Jolmes’ lap.  One side of the classroom was wall, the other side a bay of windows, all with slanted wooden slats.  Mr. Jolmes raised Belinda’s dress from the knees revealing a nice pair of lavender panties.  The math teacher patted the girl’s butt and then,
	‘Let your pants down, laddy buck.’  Mr. Jolmes was not a handsome man by any means; he looked like he had gotten run over by a truck—twice!  Big nose, leathery skin, funky “scientist’s” hair.  He was a marvel with math, though.
	Mr. Jolmes pulled the girl’s panties aside at the crotch.
	Brad was full attentive (drooling).  His pants were down, followed by his underwear.  His cock was at full mast.
	‘Pretty nice, eh, laddy buck?’
	Brad nodded, the girl had a nice ass—and even nicer cunt.  His mind was in a blur; there had been Amy, and…
	Just Amy.  But this wasn’t Amy.  This was Belinda and the angle was a mindblower.
	Then, Mr. Jolmes was caressing not Belinda’s ass but Brad’s!
	Brad was oblivious.
	‘Put your dick against her.’
	Brad did so—very-very willingly.  He moved up and down the girl’s butt crack, poked the hole, then glided against her very-very virginal pussy.  He ached.  He made a moan.  Something-something was said (into his mind) goading him.  Brad barely paid attention.  Motivation was there and intended coercing the young lad to “put it in her.”
	He did so.
	The sensation was out of this world.  It was way better than butt fucking his best friend.  He pumped and pumped reaching the fullest of the desired depth.  Whether or not the girl was aware of being penetrated or not wasn’t known.  All that mattered was to pump.  To fuck and achieve the ultimate goal—orgasm.
The Fucktard
	 An evening with Vinny
	Fratima Frackurri and her eleven year old daughter, Layla, walked the short distance to their home from the movie theatre complex.  They had paused at the gift shops, it was late evening so the only other shops open were the ice creamery and smoke shop.
	After ice cream, they walked slowly discussing the movie, school, up coming party, summer plans, mother-daughter stuff.  And,
	“It hasn’t happened yet,” complained Layla, “almost all my friends have gotten theirs!”
	“Don’t worry, little one, it will come and you wont be so glad of it!”
	Layla had yet to experience her period.
	They noshed on their ice cream cones and discovered that as soon as they were in their home that they were not alone.  A bright light followed by an invasive electronic sound stunned them into submission.  Also fear and fright as the Intruder was tall, clad all in black, and just plain menacing.  He ordered them upstairs—not so much with words but with actions.
	In Fratima’s bedroom the Intruder handcuffed Fratima using furline handcuffs; to both her hands and feet then placed her onto her king sized bed.  The woman was very frightened, for her safety as well as her daughter’s.  Daughter Layla was told (by motion) to sit.  His glaring eyes pierced her into obedience.  The Intruder did whisper “don’t move.” To wit Layla nodded as she sat on her hands.
	The Intruder, “Fuctard” Vinny the Moon, “mounted” Fratima pawing at her very nice breasts.  Fratima was not amused and twisted.  The Intruder kneed her pussy—hard.  It took her breath.  The boys Aaron and Brad had dubbed him “fucktard”.  He liked it settled with it.  Fratima was frozen with pain along with fear but not so much pissedoffedness.  That would come later.
	After pawing her breasts he ripped open her summery silk blouse.
	His eyes—above all else and Fratima noticed and remembered those eyes.
	“They shined!” she told investigators.  “Like the moon!” hince, Vinny “the moon.”  Other notable notes were the man’s black attire; a black eye mask, “Like Zorro.” she said, plus the head scarf, also like Zorro.  There was no cape, but he wore a black shirt and pants as well as cowboy boots (square toe.)
	The bedroom had some lighting on but not bright.  The Intruder was white; his face that wasn’t covered was white—but very tan.  So was his hands and as well his cock.  Fratima tensed up when focusing on the mentioning of the man’s penis.
	The Intruder produced a knife of which he used to slice off the woman’s clothing.  He then spent time caressing her naked body before…
	Layla sat petrified on her hands watching as her mother was assaulted.  The Intruder sliced off the clothing then forced her legs open.  Layla couldn’t breathe.  Her emotions were all over as she watched the man shove his fingers into her mother’s vagina.  She cringed and felt as if though someone had punched her in the stomach.
	Then the man stood and undressed.
	Other than her brother, Jamal, Layla hadn’t seen a naked penis before.
	Sketches and crude drawings on the bathroom wall, a health book, and naked statues in the park and museum, but not in real life.  The man’s penis was erect.  He blatantly moved his hand up and down it before getting on top of her mother.  It was sex.  Layla was not so oblivious to not know what sex was.  She was eleven, she was semi schooled in the art of reproduction but it wasn’t something she followed.  Layla and her family were Coptic Christians, they had Arabic heritage with Layla’s grandparents coming directly from Lebanon.
	Vinny entered Fratima.  Her eyes rolled, her mouth undulated as she silently cussed him.  Vinny’s cock was a little more than normal and so though the intrusion was unwanted there was an undeniable thrill as her clit was tantalized.  The Intruder took his time revving her up; he was an expert and time meant nothing to him.
	As the fuck commenced—Fratima found herself transfixed on those eyes.
	They shined!
	On the nightstand, her side, the family pictures—husband, daughter, son.
	The husband was out of town—out of country—on business.  The son was out with his friends.  Vinny fucked the woman—fucked the woman—fucked the woman into a stupor.  She thrashed about and then became violent.  Despite being restrained she caused the Intruder grief by kicking him and managing to knee him in the balls.
	This caused the Intruder to whip out his trusty cattleprod.  He had two; one was on a long extended rod, the other was handheld.  He used the handheld one pressing it to the woman’s side where she freaked the fuck out.  The words she burbled were unintelligible.  She twitched, peed, and looked like she were in the midst of death throes.
	This caused daughter Layla to freak out.
	This caused Vinny to produce another knife.  It was smaller, longer, and with a retractable blade.  Making sure that Layla watched him he placed the retractaed knife to the girl’s mother’s asshole.  The woman lay thrashing on her side, twitching.  The retracted knife was at her parted hole and then the knife was brought up where Layla watched as a “click” from the knife suddenly extended the hidden knife.  The blade was pushed against the wooden footboard and the blade once more disappeared into the body (of the barrel.)
	Vinny then put the knife back to Fratima’s asshole.  His shinning eyes met Layla’s frightened ones.  His thumb rested on the clicker.  He stared the girl down.  She peed herself.  Two more times this was done—Layla pissing herself both times before she got the message.  The click would extend the blade into her mother’s asshole.
	If—IF she (Layla) didn’t do what he wanted.
	“Suck me.” he said in a low voice.  The voice was so low it was barely audible—Layla contended that she mostly “read his lips.”
	The concept of “sucking dick” was more than appauling.
	Layla retched, gagged, and nearly vomited—all before accepting the man’s dick.  She shook her head, begged, peed, and felt very ill.
	“Please!”  she begged, “Please, don’t make me do that!”
	Vinny shrugged and put the knife to the girl’s mother’s asshole.
	“OK!” screamed Layla, “Don’t hurt her!”
	By now and Fratima had passed out.
	Vinny stood gallantly before the distressed girl.  He masturbated and firstly placed his cock against her face.  Stark raven dark hair, ok face, a sweet smile, and oh so not into cocksucking.  He gouged her nostrils, pressed hard his cock against the side of her nose then forced his way into her mouth making her bob her head with his hand to the back of her head.
	Layla freaked out; she flailed her hands about and got zapped electronically by the handheld cattle motivator.
	As she lay flailing on the floor, Vinny undressed her.
	She required some spanking—which Vinny enjoyed.
	The girl wasn’t so much into that route and so thusly required an electric jolt which somewhat settled her out.  She thrashed, twisted, jolted, and made it somewhat easy for Vinny to undress her.  Then, for his amusement, he locked her ankles, held her legs up, and swatted her bare ass to his content.
	This was followed by laying his cock against her very virgin cunny and humping it.  He humped the slit—humped the slit—humped the slit until finally slipping into her groove and “got his groove on.”  The superior snugness of her cunny was delightful.  Layla came around to realize what was happening to her and freaked out.  She thrashed all the more and all that did was excite Vinny the Moon (all the more.)
	Vinny the Moon Fuctard pulled out to hump the slit, then plunge back in to complete the deed.  He strained and felt a great gush of his love cream spewing hotly into the girl’s broken pussy.  He was very nearly drained but had enough to wrestle with the girl, spank her HARD into submission and began an anal assault.
	It was at this time the girl’s mother came around.

	Vinny paused in his doings to wrestle with the woman into position so as she could witness her daughter being sodomized.  Talk about freaking out!  She went into a frenzy—only enticing the Intruder (all the more.)
	Only when his jiz was oozing out of the girl’s hole did he stop.
	To say the least he was more than drained.  But satisfied, too.  To further send the girl’s mother into anguish he ran his hands all over young girl’s body, fingered her fresh fucked cunny, mawed her breasts, then re-entered her pussy for another fuck.  Fratima was out of mind and despite the furlined cuffs restraining her she managed to wrench her wrists.
	The Fucktard sat on Layla’s chest titty fucking her—then forced his cock into her mouth which only made her mother lose her mind.  The Intruder was having quite a time and sat on the floor pulling the hapless Layla across his lap spanking her HARD again.  That’s when he heard noises downstairs.
	What ho!  Visitors!
	Actually, Layla’s brother, Jamal, had come home—and he had brought two friends with him!  The boys lingered downstairs, raiding the kitchen.  Both mother and daughter lay in a swath of distraught.  Vinny waited—more fun times awaited!

	Jamal and his two friends, Adam and Austin, indeed raided the kitchen.  Some snacks of this and that, farted, joshed one another crudely, then not knowing if anyone was home or not made their way upstairs to Jamal’s bedroom (and to check to see if anyone was home.)
	The bedroom door to Jamal’s mother’s bedroom was open—revealing the naked twisted on the bed and the naked sister crumbled on the floor.
	“What the fu—” exclaimed Jamal.
	‘Come join us.’ said a strong voice into Jamal’s head.
	The boy shook it off; thirteen year old Adam couldn’t utter word one, fourteen year old Austin was just as speechless.
	The boys later reported that they didn’t know how it happened, but they were “pulled” into the bedroom and got out of their clothes somewhat on their own.
	“We’re you threatened?” asked an investigator.
	None of the boys could rightly remember.
	“I think so,” said Jamal, “but I don’t remember how; exactly.”
	Once naked, the boys were firstly serviced by Layla.  The miserable girl bobbed her head on the boys’ schlongs—one-two-three.  Jamal had never-ever gotten a blowjob, nor had Austin.  Adam, however, had a sister AND a cousin who had one time sucked him off.  He came off in Layla’s mouth while Jamal and Austin creamed her face.

	The boys then “went down” on the girl.  It was quite a scene.  The naked eleven year old sprawled out on her mother’s bedroom floor, legs spread, highly distraught, face and mouth full of cum.  Jamal, being her brother, got first dibs and licked out his first pussy.
	‘Have you ever wanted to fuck your sister?’ the Voice surreptitiously.
	Jamal was stunned by the question.  The answer, though, was a definitive Yes.  But it wasn’t just his sister, any girl, any age.  Pussy was pussy and a sisterly pussy was handy.
	By the time he had licked his sister’s cunt clean his cock was raging hard.
	The mother was once more out of her mind as she watched her son position himself on his sister and enter her.  The boy took to fucking like he knew how.  Instinct.  He wasn’t very good at it but he was no expert.  He sunk himself into her, pulled out (accidentally) then plunged back in to complete the deed.  He made a lot of noise as he came; his eyes twitched and his whole body went into a catatonic fit.
	When done, he rolled off and lay beside her his young body covered in a sheen layer of sex sweat.  He muttered words unknown and stared up to the ceiling while boy number two took his turn.
	Austin was an avid masturbator; but he found fucking pussy was da bomb.
	And he was an early cummer, too.  He was fired up just by seeing Layla naked,
	‘Have you ever wanted to FUCK her?’
	Austin licked his lips and thought thoughtfully.  The answer was Yes.
	Only a few pumps in and he was done.  Sperm continued to ooze out of his pisser as he lay off on the other side of the girl; the girl’s mother wept and wept being just about one hundred percent broken.
	Adam took his turn.  He got to see his sister (and cousin) naked—often.  He got to finger the girls and take a shower with his sister.  But nothing more than oral was as far as he had gotten.  Both girls were afraid of getting pregnant regardless of the protection he would wear.
	Adam went a full three minutes before blowing his load.  As he rested,
	‘Get up.’ was mouthed-spoken to Jamal.  The boy nervously got up; cum dripping from his penis, too.  His legs were wobbly and the realization of what he had done began to sink into him.  Panic began to envelope him.  But before he could become emotional he was directed to his mother.
	‘In the mouth.’
	Fratima tried to balk at taking her son’s cock; but a zap of the handheld device just being activated convinced her otherwise.  She sucked her son’s schlong getting him hard-hard-hardest!
	‘Taste your daughter’s pussy!’ chortled the Voice.

	Fratima locked eyes with the Fucktard—at first the eyes were that of a broken woman.  Then, there was fire behind the cold coal black eyes saying,
	“I will kill you if I can!”
	Of that and Vinny had no doubt.
	After the suck the boy was conscripted into licking out her furry cunt.
	It wasn’t too much to his liking; it was musty and cum laden.
	He was smacked on the ass with a hard bare hand and the cattle motivator.
	The boy licked and licked, lapped and sucked his mother’s funky cunt before moving up to slid into her his throbbing aching cock.  The other boys and Layla watched in some trepidation as the act took place.  Jamal fucked and fucked and fucked lasting some seconds over the three minute mark.  He blasted a lengthy wad of cum making a loud verbal announcement about it, too.
	Then he lay off beside her lambasted and frapped.
	Austin was up next and definitely did not like having to lick the woman’s pussy—freshly laden with cum.  He got his ass smacked HARD by the Intruder’s hand as well as a serious jolt of electricity from the motivator.  The boy scriggled on the floor screaming, blurbing, peeing, twitching.  A few minutes later and he was not better but capable of following up on the pussy licking command.
	He retched, gagged, and almost hurled.
	When the Intruder was satisfied the boy was directed to “mount”.
	Some hesitation but the boy complied and sunk his cock into Layla’s mother’s cunt.  He got busy with the fucking and while doing so locked eyes with Jamal whispering “Sorry about this, dude.”
	Jamal nodded and lay fondling his severely aching cock.

	After all three boys had fucked the mother and daughter,
	‘Suck him.’
	Austin Nitusa blinked his eyes slowly and excessively shaking his head conveying “No way—no how.”
	So, Layla was tortured with the handheld cattleprod pressed to her pussy.
	Austin dropped to his knees screaming for the Intruder to stop; Adam wailed, and Jamal made a daring charge.  It was a good knightly thing to do; but the Intruder was bigger and more trained for such things and knocked the teenager backward.  It was chaos for several minutes before Jamal stood, hands on hips, trembling all over in pain and grief.  Austin sucked the boy’s super funky cock and retched until there was uncontrollable gagging.
	Then it was Adam’s turn.
	Adam didn’t retch so much (but almost vomited!)
	Jamal didn’t have to suck his friend’s off—he had to suck the Intruder’s!

	New scene
	Midnight
	Young teens or known to have “staying power.”  Good thing ‘cause—
	At length and Layla was positioned on her mother, laying down her body with her pussy on her mother’s face.  The girl’s legs were spread out with her ankles cuffed to the wooden bed’s post.  Then she was spanked.  When her ass was beat red,
	‘Lick her hole.’
	Jamal felt ill.  He was grossed out to the max, confused, and his mind was in pandemonium.  But he knelt down, parted his sister’s cheeks, and licked out her asshole.  Then he stood and pressed into her hole his brotherly love tool.  Hands on her hips he rocked as he fucked.  Every now and then his cock slipped out; every now and then the Fucktard spanked him with a bare hand and then a lower setting from the cattleprod.
	The boy finally got his nuts off shooting a massive wad of pent up teen cum whereupon a great deal flowed out of the girl’s puckered hole—and onto the distraught face of their mother.  Austin and Adam took their turns with both boys suffering cattleprod abuse as they had to, too, lick the girl’s shit hole heavily laden with the previous cock’s cum.
	2AM
	‘In the ass.’
	Jamal shook his head; he in no way wanted to butt fuck his friends.
	But once more and Layla suffered his refusal.
	The boy complied; Layla sucked his dick, his balls, and helped guide his schlong into Adam’s backdoor receptacle.  His cock bent but after several tries finally got with the program and fully sodomized both Adam and Austin.
	Then, while Jamal engulfed Adam—and then Austin, he himself was sodomized by the Intruder.  When done, the Intruder produced a key, the handcuff key to the cuffs restraining Jamal’s mother.  The key was shoved up into Jamal’s asshole.  Austin and Adam were placed in a 69 position and duct taped together.
	Layla was once more placed on her mother and taped to her.
	Jamal was firstly spanked and then duct tape with his and hands and feet before him stretched out.  He was positioned on his backside with his head under the bed.  His legs were placed up the footboard of the wooden bed secured by his mother’s stretched out legs as well as his sister’s whereupon the boy’s legs were held steady.
	Then the Fucktard touched the boy’s balls with the cattleprod.

And then?
	After a long hot shower the Fucktard left the Frackurri house.
	After crossing the street he encountered a young girl crying on the sidewalk.
	All the homes in the neighborhood area were “nice” homes, most were two-story; nice manicured lawns and lots of trees.  It was one of these trees that “kitty” was stuck up in and meowing its kitteny head off.
	Vinny the Moon smiled, petted the little girl’s head and climbed the tree.
	The kitten was at first—“hey, I’m being rescued!  Yey!” then,
	“DON’T TOUCH ME!” there was terrified meowing followed by “don’t fuck with me” hissing.  Vinny managed to grab the kitten—who bit and scratched him for his efforts.  But the kitten suddenly warmed up to him and clung to him as he climbed down returning him to his owner.
	“OH! Thank you!” exclaimed the pretty six year old.  She was in a shortie kiddie dress, blond hair in curls, a bit of a lisp, and as sweet as she could be.  She warmed Vinny’s heart.  He knelt down, petted the kitten’s head—who wrapped his paws about his finger and bit it.  Hugs were exchanged and Vinny walked on.
	See, he wasn’t such a bad guy after all!

	*I am out of the hospital and recovering in my flat (minus a few internal parts.)  I guess I don’t need them.  I must lay off the liquor (for awhile) but should be on the mend by Christmas.