August Moone
Book 9
Chapter 47
Brave New Perversion II

Ride that cowboy!
	Circumstances being what they were, Mary Seventh, found herself on her parents’ proverbial Shit List.  Mary, eighteen, had gotten herself in a slew of trouble; trashing her school after the basketball coach canceled/forfeited games ‘cause the girls team (of which Mary was on) were not meeting expectations in the classroom.  Although the girls all were C’s and some B’s the coach determined that that wasn’t good enough.  Pissed the girls off and so they trashed the gym.
	Working part time and a clumsy customer spilled some beer on her work shirt of which the “fumes” was smelled by a police officer.  Luckily the officer was a family friend and didn’t arrest her or even give her ticket—just a warning.  (then, of course, he tattled to her parents.)
	One thing led to another and then another and then—the parental units had had enough and for her safety (and their sanity) shipped her off to Seventh Hell—extended family some states away.  Mary, of course, was pissed.  Her parents, Eric and Annie, were good people and fairly well lackadaisical attitude towards their children’s upbringing as well as allowing them gracious freedoms.
	To be note, Mary’s father was “a father.”  A man of the cloth.  A reverend.
	A one way red-eye ticket to the state some states away to live with extended family where the members were many and the rules of the house firm and strict.  Didn’t sit well with Mary who was trapped as her family came to the airport to see her off and there would be family at the other airport to see her in.
	Then Fate stepped in; for an undisclosed reason the airplane Mary was in (passengers are regularly IN the airplane and not ON it…that would be a sight to see passengers ON the place riding it instead of the plane riding them!)
	Anyways, the plane was diverted to an airport whereas there were “big skies” and lots of cowboys.  Mary had little money but a lot of determination NOT to re-board the airplane and/or go to the extended family some states away.  Her baggage went on without her; just clothes and some personal items but oh well—destiny was the new order and Fate was leading the way.
	Outside and there was a cowboy, early 20s, loading some horsey gear into an old beat up cowboy truck.
	“Nice truck.” Mary almost scoffed.
	“It aint pretty, I know,” replied the cowboy, “but it works!”
	Mary smiled, stifled a fart that had been building since 30,000 feet, and felt partly embarrassed about bad mouthing the cowboy’s truck.
	“Just get in?” the cowboy asked.
	Mary nodded.
	“Somebody pickin’ you up?”
	“Not likely.” she grinned.  “Long story.”
	The cowboy finished loaded horsey gear into his truck, wiped his hands on his faded bluejeans; he wore an almost clean tee-shirt and an unbuttoned red/white checkered outer shirt.
	“Well, I’m headin’ back, little place outside of town.”
	‘Perfect.’ smiled Mary.
	“Need some company?” she asked.
	The young cowboy smiled and opened the door of his truck.

	The truck squeaked, stank of—cows and horses and … other.  It was littered with litter but at least he didn’t chew!  And the cowboy’s perception about “a little ways” was way—way—way off.  From the airport to the “outskirts” of town was a little more than sixty miles.  Then it was another twenty-five to his ranch.  The ranch was his family’s but they were all…dead.  Past on and he was the last to make it work.  Moo-moos.  Lots and lots of moo-moos.  A few horses, some chickens, a couple of pigs, and so on.
	After looking at the various farm animals and blushing at the horseys whose dongs hung near to the ground,
	“Wanna stay over?” 
	Mary had spilled her story to “Hank” and he suggested that she call her parents to let them know she was safe.  Not exactly “where” she was safe but that she was.
	“They going to be pissed.”
	They were.  They demanded she return to “whatever” airport and come home—to wit Mary replied “I HAVE NO HOME!” and promptly hung up.
	“Well that went well.” spoke Hank.  She would call them in a couple of days, or three, or four.
	Meanwhile, horses!  And cows!  Lots and lots of cows.
	In a short time and Mary learned how to ride—a horse.  She learned how to rope the cows, shut gates, pin the herd, and be a suitable cowgirl.  She did call her parents but alluded to explaining “where” she was.
	At length and Mary fit right in, she also turned the ripe old age of eighteen and thusly untethered by her parents.  They were still a trifle upset but were calming down.

	Then one day Hank again caught Mary staring at Storm the Mighty Wonder horse and his lengthy horse dick.  The few weeks that Mary had been in the company of Hank and they had not—not engaged in sex!  Hank was biding his time for the right moment.  Mary was—hmmmm
	During the time they had been together they had made jokes a good Christian would be embarrassed by.  So, at this time, Hank felt comfortable enough to say,
	“You know, I got one just as good!”
	Mary blushed, Hank blushed, they laughed and fell into one another’s arms.
	Adoration.  They looked deeply into one another’s eyes, smiled, kissed, kissed some more, kissed a little more, Frenched, groped, fondled, fingered, frolicked.  Storm was no impressed—he peed and farted.  This drove the two would-be lovers inside the home and to the bed.
	Love was made.
	Love was kinky.
	Hank had no idea that he had gotten a hold of a wild cat.  Mary Ellen Seventh liked to be on top, do the around-the-world, and fuck in every room but the bedroom!  She was voracious with her sex; loved to be eaten out, spanked (pussy spank!) and cornholed.  She wore her cowboy out; and she was ready for more—more—more!
	Hank was somewhat ready for more—more—more.  A couple of times, a little of this, some of that, and then he wanted to sleep.  Typical.  They fucked in the barn, on the truck, a little awkward but they managed to get it on on the back of a horse; out in the meadow, running amok buck naked around the ranch house, out in the middle of the night in the barn, in the meadow, everywhere.  Mary was flaunting her Christian upbringing—exposing her nakedness to God!
	When Hank learned of Mary’s upbringing he was stunned.
	Then he learned of her two brothers and two sisters.  And he had to ask…
	“Are they like you?” not knowing their ages.
	Mary blushed, grinned big, and nodded her sweet wild cat head.
	In a house where her father was a preacher, the Seventh kids were naughty—naughty—naughty!  They all had the voracious appetite for sex.  In fact,
	“My little sister, Ruth Anne?  She’s the worst!”
	“There are things she’s done that would make you fall off your horse!”
	She could see in Hank’s mind whirling—‘just how kinky is she?’
	He was about to find out.

Ruthie cums for a visit
	Towards the end of summer and the encroachment of fall, Ruth Anne (Ruthie) came to the ranch for a visit.  She was fourteen (but looked twelve.)  Things with Mary’s parents were still icy but civil.  The civility allowed for Ruthie to travel alone to visit her sister.
	Hank was overjoyed—even more when he saw her live and in person.
	“I thought you said she was fourteen?”
	“She is!” but looks twelve!

	“Soooo, your sister, she like you? I-I mean—she like you?”
	It was funny how a man could be so embarrassed.
	Laying underneath her cowboy, Mary giggled and blushed as her cowboy stammered.  She saw his thoughts swirling as his curiosity about her sister soared.  Ruthie was in the guest room; the hour was late, and Hank was—horny.  His horny mood was brought on, of course, by Ruthie.  Was it because she was Mary’s sister?  Was it because she was reportedly just as kinky as Mary herself?  Or was it because she looked twelve years old?
	Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding!
	Hank stared into Mary’s eyes boring a hole into her kinky soul—as well as his cock into her amazing snug fitting cunt.  They made fine love; passionate.  They rolled in the bed and when Mary came on top—she was in charge.  Her powerful legs clamped tightly to his body as she straddled him.  His cool blue eyes focused on her face, her hair, her bodacious hooters.
	“You want to fuck her, don’t you?” she asked.  She just had to ask!
	“Uh—uh—uh—w-wh-what?”
	Mary laid down her errant lover whispering,
	“It’s ok, she wants to fuck you, too!”
	He had blown an engine before; a tractor, a car, another tractor, but never had he had his mind blown.  First time for everything!  They continued to fuck—and fuck—and roll onto the floor—engage in a weird position where Mary’s shoulders were on the floor and her long-long basketball leg were up along Hank’s body as his knees were on the bed.  Then his cock made way into her pussy.
	That was when then he noticed Ruthie at the slightly opened door.
	She was standing in her two-piece typical jammies with a hand down the bottoms presumably down her panties gettin’ after it!  The nightlight light from under the old style country home nightstand at the door shone light onto the girl’s face.  She wasn’t strikingly beautiful but she was no hound.  Plain features with a hairstyle now that was long semi styled hair down the middle of her young body.
	“You don’t have to stay out there, Ruthie,” said Mary, “you can CUM in!”
	Hank was not mortified but partially petrified.  Was this a dream?
	When Ruthie arrived at the bed she pulled off her pajama top and lowered her pajama bottoms.  No panties!  Mary was all giggles.  Ruthie blushed a little.  Hank was mystified and stunned—with his cock embedded into Mary’s twat!
	Slipping a hand up to Ruthie’s now bare ass Mary instigated the kink.
	Ruthie, smiling, blushing, straddled her sister’s face lowering herself down to nestle her sex there on Mary’s face.  Then, she leaned in to ogle Hank’s cock.  Hank flopped his favorite organ out and the girl feasted on it—firstly with her eyes and then—THEN her mouth!  She did!  She sucked it—right out of her sister’s twat!   Hank’s mind was officially blown.
	But more—much-much more was to cum!

The rest of the world blows—but you suck!
	Hank had to go to town on business leaving the girls at the ranch to their own doings.  Those “doings” had the girls going about the ranch—naked!  It was a dash out the kitchen door and to the barn giggling all the way.  Hank’s mind was blown-blown-blown by the night’s events.  He had never seen or heard of the like!  Ruthie’s cunt squashed down on her sister’s face and she herself then sucked-sucked-sucked Hank’s cock!
	After the sucking—and the receiving of a copious amount of man jiz, the kinky girl of all smiles crawled onto the bed, spread her legs, and fingered herself into euphoria.  Hank watched and got all the harder despite just cumming off.  Mary reoriented herself rightly catching Hank’s eye.
	Oh, yes, he was horny—horny—typical male horny.  In his eyes he was asking “can I fuck her?”
	Mary crawled onto the bed and patted—AND PATTED her sister’s cunt.
	Hank took that as an invite.  Jazzed up he forgo licking out the youngster’s snatch and just drove his hardened cock into her.  He was in for a ride.  Ruthie wasn’t one for just “laying” there; she bucked, clung, clutched, squeezed, and pumped tenaciously taking Hank for more than an 8-second ride.
	And while he fucked the fourteen year old sister of Mary—Mary spanked him!  She did!  As he pumped he was swatted—sometimes hard, too!  Hank found the abuse kind of—thrilling!  He was enticed to fuck harder—faster—longer.  And at length he found himself entangled with the wild horse in several positions; on his side, the girl pressed with her back against his chest, around-the-world, doggie, and lastly, reverse missionary.
	He was exhausted.  And while the vixen snuggled against him—Mary had taken holt of his dong and was sucking it!  Right from Ruthie’s cunt!  His mind was blown-blown-blown!
	‘and they’ve got another sister at home, too!’ he wondered if SHE would come for a visit, too!
	When Hank returned to the ranch he found Mary and Ruthie naked in the company of Stallion—a 17 hand high black as midnight horse.  He noted that Stallion had a boner.  His mind whirled.  The girls were in a stall in the barn and they looked—hot!  Hank wasn’t prepared for what happened next.  He wasn’t prepared in his mind, either.
	The girls took Hank to a nearby bale of hay, stripped him naked, and blew his mind (literally and figuratively.)  Ruthie took holt of his dong and sucked the life out of it while Mary occupied his face.  Then, whilst he was dramatically hard-hard-hardest, Ruthie sat on his cock sliding it up her hot fuckable twat.  Hank had noshing on Mary’s delightful cunt getting a face full of her essence.
	When Hank came shooting a massive wad of ecstasy into Ruthie’s poon, Mary laid down his body and took his cock into her mouth sucking MORE life out of it.
	Sonofabitch!

	“She likes to be spanked, too!”
	Hank was floored.  This was getting weirder and weirder.
	“I kind of like it, too, but not as much as Ruthie.”
	There’s more.
	At the Seventh home and the two youngest shared a room (and sometimes bed!)  Brother Simon was only a couple of years older so he and Ruthie shared a room (and sometimes bed!)  And when they could get away with it—they were naughty.  Which was just about all the time.
	“Naughty?” Hank asked.  He needed clarity.
	“A step up from the typical brother-sister touchy/feely stuff.”
	The two siblings DID touch and DID feel one another, they pranced about their room naked, farted, spreads their legs, and engaged in naughty habits such as Simon spanking his sister’s ass and cunt with his cock.  (wow!)  Then, when Ruthie was merely 8yrs young and Simon was merely 10yrs young—she sucked him.  She did!  In turn, he licked her pussy.
	Now, just because their father was a reverend and had his own church didn’t mean that the Seventh children were heavenly.  Not by a long shot.  They got in trouble—various things that kids do; breaking a window, lying about poor grades, curfew violations, being somewhere else when reportedly supposed to be somewhere else, shit like that.  End result was discipline—usually in the form of a scolding but depending on the severity of the offence—a swatting.
	Not hard but with deliberate force to get the point across that the offender should not offend.  Mary and sister Lucy did not care so much for getting their butts swatted.  Ruthie, on the other hand, did.
	“It makes my cunny tingle!” she said in quote.
	So, when applicable, when they could get away with it—Simon spanked Ruthie.  She liked it.  Simon also swatted Mary and Lucy.  When Ruthie turned ten, and Simon was twelve—the two stepped up their relationship even more.
	They fucked.
	Simon had by now already fucked sisters Mary and Lucy.  There was another brother, too, Matt.  He was involved with Mary and Lucy but usually just Mary.
	Hank’s mind was blown.
	“Wow.” was about all he could manage.
	There was more.  Mary was hesitant about spilling, though.
	After some ranch work, with Ruthie on a horse helping out and loving it, the trio had dinner.  Ruthie’s legs were sore and back aching.  So was Mary.  And it was Mary who after a relaxing bath crashed on the communal bed leaving sister Ruthie and hunky cowboy Hank to their own.
	Hank sat on the sofa in the living room chilling out when Ruthie came up smiling.  She was up to something.  The living room was moderately furnished with Southwestern style furniture; a few portraits on the walls of ranch life, decorations of milk can and watering cans, nothing girlie or any sign of that a woman had a hand at decorating.
	“Good dinner.” Ruthie said.
	“Thanks.”  Porkchops in a wine reduction sauce.
	There was a glistening in the young teen’s eyes.  But it was that smile that said “I’m mischievous!” which was a simple euphemism for “I’m horny!”
	Hank reached up copping a feel of the girl’s ass. Would Mary be mad if she caught them doing hanky-panky?  Hopefully not.  Ruthie pulled off her shirt—no bra.  Hank’s eyes eyed the delightful titties; small orbs that were absolutely delectable!  Ruthie herself unhitched her jeans pushing them down.  No shoes, no socks, no panties!  Hank’s cock was instantly hard.
	Hank couldn’t shuck his jeans fast enough.
	Ruthie mounted him sliding his hard-on straightaway into her hot cunny.
	Their bodies melded, they kissed, they Frenched, they fucked.
	When Hank had blasted a fresh hot load of spunk into Ruthie she sat back still smiling with a still glistening in her eyes.
	“I hear you like to be spanked.”
	Ruthie nodded and positioned herself across his lap.
	Hank had never spanked anybody before.  He had never had a girl across his lap before!  Slowly he smoothed his hand about her ass.  She was a teenage girl and that ass was marvelous!  A light swat, some squeezing of a cheek, then another smack.  Ruthie giggled—he was holding back but he needn’t to, Ruthie could take whatever he could dish out.  She could!
	“Soooo, what’s with the horse?” he had to ask—he just had to.
	Mary blushed and shrugged a shoulder giving a whimsical look of “me to know and you to finger out!”
	“She’s kinky—” Mary said, “really-really kinky.”
	Hank gave her a long look.  He blinked his eyes excessively.  His thought processes brought up things he had heard about girls and horses; sweating began and heart palpitations, too.
	Still curious and needing curiosity fulfillment—
	“Soooo, wh-what did you and Ruthie do to Stallion?”
	Mary pursed her lips and was grinning big as well as giggling and blushing.
	Hank’s mind whirled.  He gulped and felt his heart beating out of his chest.
	“We just played with him.” supplied Mary.
	Hank was mystified.
	“Played?”
	“With his dick.”	
	Hank lost it and melted.  He had heard of girls (women) doing such things but never-ever-ever thought he would be in the company of one.
	“She likes dogs, too!” Mary added.  She just had to.

	Hank couldn’t comprehend Ruthie and a dog.  He tried several times,
	“Dog-doggie style?” with a dog he asked.
	Mary nodded, smiled, blushed.
	“Our brother brought home a stray dog, part German Shepherd, part horn-dog.”
	Ruthie LOVED to about the house naked.  So did Mary and Lucy.  The boys, also.  The girl had a nice body; so did Mary and Lucy.  Hank’s mind whirred and whirred thinking of the girls running amok the two-story house—naked.  Then one day, with the dog, “Happy”, Ruthie got goosed.  The dog’s cold black nose bumped up into her ass crack as she was mimicking being a dog herself.  It ignited a fuse in the girl—a naughty fuse.
	There is something in the Bible regarding “stay with your own kind.”  It did not refer to peoples of colour to stay with their own colour—no, it referred to keeping animals in the barn and not in the house/bed.  Not.  And you’d think that a house whereas the leader was a preacher the children would know that.
	Soon and Ruthie was spreading her legs beckoning her new playmate to lick her—to lick her cunny.  He did.  And more!
	Hank was stunned.  His breathing paused as firstly he had the young girl in his mind running about her family’s house—naked!  Having seen the girl naked already it wasn’t too much a stretch.  But the dog.  The dog licking her pussy—that was a bit of stretch he couldn’t conjure.
	“Sooo, wh-what happened then?” Hank asked.
	Lying in bed together Mary wondered casually to herself if Ruthie would mind her divulging family secrets.  She was mum for a moment, then—
	“It was Lucy who caught her in the act first.”
	“Caught her?  In the act?  Of what?”
	Mary shook her head—it was overload for her cowboy.
	“Doggie style.” The true and original.
	Hank was quiet as his mind went into true overload.  In his mind he saw Ruthie (on all fours) taking Happy doggie-style.
	“Uh—wh-what hole?”
	“Pussy,” pause for dramatic effect, “then the other.”
	Hank lost colour.
	“Puss—pussy—?” he stammered—“then—then the other?”
	Mary slipped a hand down to her cowboy’s cock finding it hard.
	Moving slowly the girl mounted her bewildered Hank sliding his cock into her cunny.  The cowboy came around, gripped her ass, adored her titties, her face, and her pussy on his cock.

Question:  what’s tall, black, and hung like a porn star?  No, not a professional basketball player.  Out in the barn there was activity.  There, on a square bale of hay lay positioned Ruthie.  She was naked, of course, and secured to Stallion who shimmied his withers and swished his tail.
	Ruthie was secured to the horsey via rope; her hands and legs tied upwards (so as she wouldn’t fall off!)  There was Mary, also naked, working the horse’s cock against her sister’s cunt.  Beside them stood the naked bewildered Hank.  Mary had Stallion’s cock significantly hard and worked the animal’s cock head into her sister’s pussy.  Hank couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
	Ruthie giggled and clenched as the huge animal’s dick tantalized her.
	Mary worked Stallion’s cock—worked Stallion’s cock—worked Stallion’s cock getting the head into her sister.  Masturbating the massive gallant animal finally resulted in a massive cum blast.
	“Jesus!” quipped aloud Hank.
	The girls giggled and Stallion whinnied.
	Life on the ranch was never the same.  Hank was never the same (nor Stallion!)  Ruthie eventually returned to her family’s home.  Mary went on to marry Hank (and Ruthie came to the wedding bringing sister Lucy with her!)  Hank found sister Lucy was just as naughty as Mary and Ruthie.  He found this out when one morning he found naked Lucy sucking off on Stallion.  Sucking!  Off!
	Hank found the girls delightful (delectable) and Stallion the Wonder horse did, too!  End.
Brought to you in living color
	Aliens schmaliens
	“The reports say more than a hundred men were found sodomized producing alien eggs—from their bung holes.”
	“No more findings of the alien hooch, though, unfortunately.”
	“Anywhere ELSE in the world these alien butt fuckers are?”
	“Russia has claims of “male delirium” on a massive scale; in Japan, Mongolia, various places around the Earth.”
	“Our own hooch production is doing good, better than good—cant keep up with production!”
	“Our film production soaring with new customers world wide.”
	Silence thereafter.
	“Anything else, Boss?” Onion asked sensing that there was something else.
	Virus (the) shrugged a shoulder, a new annoying habit he had developed of late.  He sat quietly, disturbed, hands folded on the grand ornate cherry wood table in the Agency’s meeting room.
	“She’s coming for a visit—a looksee.”
	Onion, Rocky, Chuckles, and introducing Baltar and Athena, sat somewhat stunned.
	“Why?” asked Baltar.
	“To devour your souls.” mouthed Virus.
	A nod from Onion, second-in-command, alerted the others to amscray.
	“What’s going on?” Onion asked.
	A big sigh, a look into the desk, a shake of the head.
	“I don’t know.”
	“Relationship problems??
	No idea.
	“Ok, I’ll be blunt,” not his strong point, “do you—love her?”
	There was a reaction—the man sat back and seriously mulled over his friend’s query.
	“You do, don’t you?” it was so surmised.
	“I—I’ve never been so.  So, I don’t know what it is.”
	“Alright then, you care for her?  You want to BE with her?  You want to dine her, walk along the river walk with her?  Be concerned for her welfare?”
	Myus gulped and looked nervous.
	“If you’ve answered YES to any of those questions—then the answer regarding love is—yes!”
	The Agency man nodded in confirmation.
	“Now, the only other question remaining is—does SHE love you?”

Books to be written
The Day Saundra’s Panties Sneezed
A Dingleberry for Sara
The Epic Tale of Chasing Tail
Little Whore from the Valley
A Big Dick for the Little Lady
The Vagina Monologues
The Man Who Went Up a Hill But Came Down A Vagina

	Cowgirl Hanna, with the brown hair, brown eyes, incredible smile, chubby cheeks, delicious naked body braced for the horror that was about to become her.  She had learned that it was useless to refuse commands; and even hesitation could get one in trouble.  She made her way to the front of the room—albeit nervously.  Turned about to face the room and “present” herself.  Then she “sat” on the sitting Agent’s lap hooking her legs over his thus presenting herself even more.
	The Agent then began fingering her pussy.
	It was very embarrassing to begin with to be naked with the others, especially the boys.  Somehow she managed to keep her composure—but it sure wasn’t easy.  Thirteen year old boy scout Jason was given the nod to come up.  Like Hanna, he had learned that it was better to obey than not.  He was scared, though, frightened, concerned, confused—and his cock partially hard.
	“Lick her pussy.” said the Agent.
	“Jesus!” the boy said breathing hard and trying not to stare at the girl’s pretty face let alone her pussy.  Relenting with a heavy sigh he knelt down and took his tongue to the girl’s cunny.  He licked heartily, he was no pro, but did a fare job.  Hanna gushed as she was licked; she clenched her straddled legs, mouth open wide and had begun to breath like a huffing train.
	“Fuck her.”
	Jason hesitated.  He himself breathed hard; his concentration rattled, but with another heavy sigh he angled his cock to the cowgirl’s poon and inserted himself.  It was a little awkward but it was a done deal and the art of fucking soon began.  After only a few pumps and the degrading act was of no matter.  The boy liked it.  Fucking pussy overshadowed all else.
	A time or two and his cock slamming hard into the pre-teen’s pussy flopped out.  Suddenly and the Agent bearing the leather strop that was a leather belt whipped the boy’s ass.  He screamed out in agony; Hanna clenched all the more, mouth very muchly agape in her fright.  The boy reinserted and regained momentum fucking three minutes to achieve the ultimate goal.  The release was fantastic.  It was a long release whereas the boy melted—he just melted.  Achieving the lofty goal of orgasm drained the boy as all orgasms did.
	Looking past the girl’s pretty face he locked eyes with the sitting Agent.
	‘keep looking at me, boy,’ conveyed the man’s cold dark eyes, ‘and I will devour your soul.’
	Jason looked away, pulled out and squirted more cum onto Hanna’s body.  Rubbing his searing ass he stumbled off to stand at a wall; dripping cum from his cock all the while.
	After Jason, the other thirteen year old came up.
	The sitting Agent hoisted Hanna’s legs up re-angling her poon.  The girl’s cunny was coated in cum and leaking such, too.  Young Albert, half way into his thirteenth year, thought for sure from what he had seen so far would have to lick the girl’s cunt clean—or suck Jason’s cock one.
	But neither.
	“Fuck her.” said the Agent.
	And despite not having his cock flop out while fucking he got the strap of leather across his ass—hard!  The boy cried out feeling himself nearly screaming out of his skin.  “JEZUS FUCKING CHRIST!” he screamed.
	“Go stand by the wall.” the man with cold eyes told him.
	His legs weak the boy barely made it to the wall.  His ass was literally on fire!  He stood sniveling, caressing his ass, and watching as Corey, Mary, Sam, Frank, Alvin, Billy, Wayne, David, Vance, and Cam came up to the poor girl fucking her until they came.  Each boy got his ass whipped with the leather belt.  Poor boy, Mark, screamed the most, stamped his feet and got another for his antics.  He fell to the floor screaming in pain and agony.
	Corey managed to cum but not Mark.
	Sam and Frank creamed but not Alvin or Billy.
	Wayne came but not the others, David, Vance, or Cam.  They were young and had cum already more than that day than they had ever.
	“Come clean her.” said the sitting Agent.
	Jan knew that was coming.  It would be either lick the girl’s cum laden cunny or suck the boys’ cum coated cocks—or both!  And whilst she licked Hanna’s cunt—she got the belt!  And while she licked Hanna’s cunt (and got the belt) Lucy sucked the boy’s cocks clean (and got the belt!)
	An Agent came to the door making eye contact with the others present.
	“She’s here.” He said with a bit of a sigh.  “And the Boss.”
	Venger.
	As much as Virus was in a pissy/glum mood—the Boss-Boss Venger was even worse.  Jan and Hanna returned to where they had been sitting.
	“Stay where are.” said the black Agent; he turned to leave the room closing the door behind him.
	“I don’t know,” whispered Michael, “but did it just get cold in here?”
A brief interlude for lewd
A few enlightening fucks for your fucking English information
1.	 You’re—you fucking are
2.	Your—shows fucking possession
3.	They’re—they fucking are
4.	Their—shows fucking possession
5.	There—shows fucking location
6.	We’re—we fucking are
7.	Were—past fucking tense of “are”
8.	Where—shows fucking location
9.	It’s—it fucking is
10.	Its’—shows fucking possession
11.	Loose—not fucking fixed in place
12.	Lose—cease to fucking keep
13.	Affect—a fucking action
14.	Effect—a fucking result
15.	Could’ve—could fucking have
16.	Could of—you fucking read this whole fucking thing when you could have been doing something productive.
	
Arcade fun
	She didn’t come every day but right as rain she was there on Saturday mornings; after her room was clean, she hadn’t set fire to anything, did well in school, no sass, and got paid.  She was a good kid; ten years young, red framed glasses (this week), short shoulder length blond hair, a little naïve about “worldly” things, liked to play arcade video games—a lot.
	So, most of her weekly allowance was allotted to the downtown mall and the arcade therein.  She had a few favorites—and if she didn’t get there spot on 9AM when the arcade opened—she lost out on some of those choice games due to other patrons who were unyielding even to ‘I got next game.’
	One particular visit and the young moppet overheard a crude remark from one of the boys who just turned her away from a popular racing game she liked.
	“Give ya ten bucks to suck my cock!”
	The moppet, Amy Wrecket, was too naïve to understand that meaning.
	Annoyed and curious she went to the manager, Mr. Lipwizz, of whom she had a rapport.  He was a man in his later years, friendly, often gave Amy a quarter or two “just because”; showed her tricks on some of the arcade games, and so on.
	Seeing the girl’s concern he approached her firstly.
	“What’s the matter sweetheart?”
	With a shrug of unsureness,
	“I-I just heard something—from one of the boys.”
	“What did you hear?” he figure as much it was something crude—coming from boys it was a natch.
	“One of them said “I’ll give you ten bucks to suck my cock!”
	Lipwizz was stunned at the bold brashness of the boys, most of the lads in the arcade were young teens.  Shaking his head he palmed her a quarter; leaning in so whereas she would be the only one to hear,
	“I’d give you a twenty!” he smiled with a twinkle in his eye and winked as he stood back upright.
	Amy was confused and still wasn’t enlightened.
	“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” said the old man, “you’ll find out soon enough I suppose.” Hands on his hips he looked to the girl with a nefarious gleam in his eyes.  “But if you’re hurtin’ for some extra cash, why, I’d give you ten.”
	Amy looked to the old man, “Really?”
	“Why sure, sweetheart,” smiled/giggled the old man, “those scruffy boys said ten to suck their cocks, why, I’d give ya ten just to see you with your clothes off!”
	Amy blinked her eyes, mouth agape.  She knew what that meant.
	Lipwizz pulled out of his manager apron a crisp ready for the money-to-coin exchanger ten dollar bill.
	“Whoa.” said the girl feasting her eyes on the moola.  She got ten bucks a week for “being good” and sometimes extra from one (or both!) her parents for chores and the like.  So, with a shrug, “Ok.”
	Lipwizz smiled and guided the girl down the short hall to the break room.
	Since he was the only one on duty at the time, he could close AND lock the door without being pestered by a wandering employee.  The moppet showed some signs of concern and unsureness—so Lipwizz produced ANOTHER ten spot placing it alongside the other on a table.
	Amy wore a mid-thigh length pull-over dress ensemble with knee socks.
	Off over her pretty head it came.  Panties only.  Blue.  The girl with almost buck teeth and the typical split in the middle was cute and definitely got Lipwizz’s attention.  Seeing the girl’s pause, though—
	“Ahem!” said the old man clearing his throat and placing a hand on the money, “The deal was for ALL your clothes; naked!”
	Amy nodded and slowly-slowly-s-l-o-w-l-y slid her powder blue panties down.  Stepping out of them she plucked the undies up and stood a little nervous before the grizzled old arcade manager—but she was naked.
	Lipwizz dropped to his knees and took a strong gander at the girl’s nakedness.  Nodding his head he approved of what he saw.

	“How would you like to make a little more?”
	The moppet shrugged, “Ok.”
	Ok!

	The screen the audience was watching of Amy and the arcade manager suddenly darkened and then stopped viewing all together.  The door to the room opened and two Agents entered, looked around, then stepped aside as a tallish Chinese woman in a full Chinese dress adorned with flaming dragons.
	Another Agent the audience hadn’t seen came up behind her plus another Agent.  The Chinese woman looked to the boys lined up at the wall—it was like a smorgasbord!  The boys, equipped with boners (due to the graphic nature of the viewing screen) got more embarrassed than they already were.
	There were whispers from one of the Agents; the Chinese woman nodded and cast her eyes upon the audience.  As Michael had assessed earlier—it DID get colder!  He could feel the woman’s glaze piercing straight thru him.  Although he feared the other Agents—the presence of the Chinese woman frightened him the most.  His balls cinched up tight to his body, his asshole clenched, and his boner drooped.  This was not good.  No, not good at all.
	The woman and the Agents backed out of the room.  The room re-darkened and the movie that had been playing resumed.

	Mr. Lipwizz hoisted Amy up onto a dining table, spread her legs, and paused a moment eyeing her hairless poon.  Holding her legs he tilted the unwary/naïve girl backwards re-angling her pussy.  He then applied tongue and lapped heartily for several minutes.
	Amy made sounds; oohs and ahhs mostly.  She clenched the edge of the table and looked as if though she were on the edge of passing out.  Lipwizz stood up, removed his apron, dropped his pants, and hauled out his fuck stick for the stunned girl to see.  Waggling it he smiled to the girl saying,
	“I’ll double that,” pointing to the money on the table “if you suck it.”
	Amy looked to the money, made a face, thought about how many times she could play Sugar Rush the racing game then slid off of the table and onto her knees.  Closing her pretty eyes she took to Lipwizz’s cock and sucked-sucked-sucked it—much to the dismay and heart stopping shock of the viewing audience.
	Mid-way along the suck job and Lipwizz removed the girl’s glasses and “helped” her with her task with a hand to the back of her pretty head.  
	She sucked-sucked-sucked for a couple of minutes and then it was over.  The old man pulled out, flopped his cock about, and contemplated his next move.  Amy made a face of displeasure.  Then,

	Stooping down to her level, “Well, sweat heart, that was good,” pause,
	“How’d you like to DOUBLE your money.”
	That’s eighty bucks!
	Amy blinked, mulled, thought—thought—thought some more, then shrugged.
	“Ok.”
	Up onto the table again, legs spread, Amy was pushed back to whereas she was laying down.  Lipwizz glided his cock up and down the girl’s sex before prodding and make valiant vaginal entry.  Again, Amy clung to the table as she was fucked-fucked-fucked.
	Lipwizz glazed over the naked moppet, smiling with a bit of creepiness.
	The girl was sent into a near convulsion as the man’s manly manhood manly moved her into an euphoric state of being.  Three minutes of serious pussy pounding resulted in a copious amount of cum.  The old man was pleased.  Pulling out and he ejaculated more before being exhausted.
	Amy fingered her freshly fucked cunt and seemed to be in a daze.
	(the boys of the viewing audience had significant boners!)
	“Let’s make it an even hundred!” quipped the dirty old man.
	No response from Amy—she was exhausted, too.
	For the “even hundred” Lipwizz turned the girl over and brought her to where she was laying bent over against the table.  The old man felt of her darling little ass, finger prepped her asshole, then slapped his cock against her flesh before dragging it up and down the crack.
	Then he poked and prodded his way into her virginal poop chute for a jolly ole buggering!
	(now and the boys of the audience were masturbating!)
	Lipwizz mastered Amy’s ass(hole) humping therein for several minutes before finally mustering a significant cum blast.
	“WHEW!” he exclaimed.  Stepping just offside he spread the girl’s cheeks allowing the viewing audience to see gobs of cum oozing from the hole.
	Lipwizz washed his foul dick in the nearby sink and with a washrag wiped clean Amy’s pussy asshole.  The girl didn’t seem upset rather elated at the hundred bucks she had earned.  She dressed and the two exited the break room to return to the main arcade area where Lipwizz encountered a young lad who appeared to be a little disgruntled.
	“What’s the matter, sport?” he asked.
	“All out of money.” the boy shrugged saying.  “Took me all week to make ten bucks and it’s all gone!” he cussed under his breath aiming his rant at a particular first-person shooter game.
	“Well,” drawled Lipwizz, “how’d you like to make twenty!”
	The audience boys, Michael, Carlos, and Mario were cumming off with the image of the moppet fresh in their minds.  Boy scouts Jason, Albert, Corey, Mark, Sam, Frank, and eleven year old Alvin all squirted bountiful amounts of cum—spilling their seed on their hands and floor.  On the screen as music was keyed up the old man looked to the camera with a twinkle in his eyes and smile on his lips.  As the music increased and the credits rolled the old man was seen escorting the red headed ten year old boy down the hall to the break room…

Wow
	“The problem with society today is—no one drinks from the skulls of their enemies these days.”
	The thing with smart bastards is that they sound like crazy bastard to dumb bastards!
	“When you wake up in the morning you have a couple of choices:
	  Go back to sleep and dream your dreams
	  Wake up and go after those dreams.”
	If you think Life is unfair—you’re not going to be thrilled about Death.
	Hmmm, the voices in my head just went quiet—those fuckers are up to something!
	Three of the four voices currently in my head are asleep, the third is up wondering “do penguins have knees?”

The Fallen Dragon and the boys
	The boys, Michael, Carlos, Mario, Ben, Nick, and the boy scouts (all twelves) Jason, Albert, Corey, Mark, Sam, Frank, Alvin, Billy, Wayne, David, Vance, and Cam were escorted out of the viewing room.  Lucy feared for them.  Something was up—something bad.
	The girls were escorted to a kitchen were they had a full spaghetti dinner, milk, soda, and ice cream for dessert.  Afterwards and they bathed (shower only) before being led to a room with single sized beds.
	“Bathroom is across the hall.” said one of the Agents, “Don’t be caught any further down the hall.”
	The girls nodded.
	Jan, Kim’s mother, was not present.  She had gone with the boys.
	When the door closed and the girls sat on the beds thoughts to their own, Kim and Lucy exchanged looks with Kim conveying ‘what do you think is happening with my mother?’
	Lucy didn’t know.  She went with all the boys soooo, maybe like before the boys are going to fuck her?  But why did they all go out of the room?  Lucy feared something bad.  Something very bad.
	The seventeen boys—seventeen! stepped into a dark room after stepping down a flight of stairs most of the lads deduced led into a basement.  All black; the walls, the floor, the ceiling.  No furnishings; little lighting, some air movement, no sounds.  It was a dungeon; a bland dungeon minus the screams, cobwebs, cobblestones, chains.
	A turn here, a turn there, an open room where there was great heat—fiery heat from an open blacksmith’s apparatus where there were many brands within the coals.  Jason and Michael could see within “dungeon-like” tables, chairs, and some girls secured to a wall via chains.  The girls, teenagers, had their legs pulled back and were also secured to the wall exposing their pussy and ass. The girls were sniveling.  There was someone stoking the fire; a man whose face was covered with a black mask and was bare chested.
	Agents ushered the boys onward.
	As the boys entered into their destiny they heard screaming (from behind him in the dungeon-torture room.)
	In the new room—dark.  The fragrance of incense fill the room; a potpourri if smells intertwined with the scent of roses, mint, and oranges?  In the corners where burning copper plates on onyx pedestals.  Standing by the pedestals and feeding the plates with more incense were oddly dressed women.  Chinese women, mostly naked.  Mostly.  They were adorned with sleek black outfits revealing most of their midriff, pussy, titties, and ass.  One of these women wore an orange mask, another wore a red mask across the eyes, another wore a green mask, and the fourth wore a yellow mask.
	A strange bed there was in the room—it was wide as a king size bed; very thick, a meter and then some high, well adorned with thick bedding.  A four-poster bed; no ruffles, no fringes; but dangling from the enclosed top were—were chains; shackles!
	On the bed lay a woman.
	A Chinese woman.
	The Fallen Dragon!
	She wore a strange mask covering her eyes—a dragon mask!  It was coloured with streaks of yellow, red, orange, green.  Jason’s eyes were fixated on the woman’s mask; her eyes!  The woman’s cold dark eyes bore a hole into the boy’s soul—devouring him!
	Michael averted his eyes from the mask to focus on the woman’s pussy.
	It was bald.  Not hair one!
	Her body was perfect.
	No moles.
	No scars.
	Michael’s cock that had been lifeless and shriveled suddenly sprang to life!
	She was also restrained with sleek black fur lined shackles.
	It was as bizarre as anything the boys had seen so far.
	One of the Agents, wielding a shiny black 2-inch wide leather belt smacked his leg with the belt to get the boys’ attention.  He then nodded to Jason.
	“Get on her.” said the Agent, “Fuck her brains out.”
	And as thirteen year old boy scout Jason crawled onto the bed and the Chinese woman thereon he got the impression that he had better fuck the woman’s brains out.  He had better!
	There was a curious smell about the woman, in the air about her.  Jason had no idea.  He was in fear.  But just rubbing his partially erect organ against her cunny and he was hard-hard-hardest!  A new sensation grabbed him and for a moment he felt faint.  Sliding his cock into the woman’s cunny and he was instantly enthused.  Just the head of his cock sexualized him into experiencing feelings he had yet to discover.
	Then the Agent with the belt struck him.
	Right across his bare ass.
	Jason shoved the length of his teenage cock into the woman’s cunt—looking to the woman, into her eyes specifically, and he saw her mouth waver.  He was locked in.  Mesmerized.  His heart, soul, whatever was left—shunted into a stunned state of being.
	The belt struck him again and he barely felt it.
	‘Fuck me, fuck me hard!’ he heard the words etch into his mind.
	Slowly, at first, Jason Abarrnathy began pumping.  Slowly.  At first.  Then, as he got into the groove he began to pump harder.  The Chinese woman beneath wriggled some—an indication that she was responding to his efforts—meager as they were.  His lovemaking needed expertise.  But, actually, the Fallen Dragon didn’t care so much for “expertise”; that wasn’t overly necessary.  Being fucked by a handsome young boy was.
	One more swat to his ass and Jason A creamed.
	The young boy went catatonic and then he received one more swat with a command “Get off!”  Jason didn’t immediately comply; he couldn’t, he was still locked in some sort of bizarre trance.  So he could stricken one more time before the pain in his ass told him “GET OFF HER, DUMBASS!”
	By the time the boy rolled off his ass was welted and there were streaks of blood.  His legs were weak and he couldn’t stand—so he got belted across the back of his legs until he did stand.
	Michael was up next.  Like Jason, his cock was barely hard—it had been hard but then lost umph as Jason was whipped.  He crawled onto the woman and was relieved that he didn’t have to “go down” on the woman to lick her pussy clean.  He just knew that that was coming.  It didn’t.
	And though he hoped to go at least two minutes—he didn’t.  Michael felt that he came off almost from the get go.  And like Jason, Michael got whipped as he fucked.  Thankfully, though, Michael’s cock remained stiff enough to go two minutes.  And like Jason, Michael was entranced by the masked woman’s gaze.
	Unlike Jason, though, Michael pulled out and got off (the woman) before his tender young ass was tenderized.  There were some welts but nowhere close to those on Jason’s ass.
	It was young Nick, from Kim Klausand’s Garage Band band, who came next to please the Fallen Dragon.  The twelve year old was way nervous.  Way.  But he succeeded in mounting and pumping.  And like the previous boys he got whipped.
	Thirteen year old Albert came along.  The boy scout had a very nice cock that was already dripping cum.  As he got his dick going ten year old fellow scout, Vance, crawled onto the bed and up to the woman’s face where she latched onto his young pud and sucked-sucked-sucked it.
	Agent Onion saw the woman shudder and made a note of it.
	The other boys took their turns filling the Chinese woman’s cunny; the remaining young boys, David, Cam, Ben filled her mouth.  She sucked them heartily, suckled their hairless nuggets, and displayed serious sexual release.
	Each boy, including the young ones aforementioned, had their young asses kissed by the shiny black belt.  And inasmuch as the Fallen Dragon enjoyed sucking the young boys, watching them being spanked also thrilled her; youngsters Cam and David received swats to their asses and legs when they didn’t get off the bed in a timely manner.
	Once all the fucking and sucking had been done,
	“Out.” said an Agent.
	The boys filed out, sniveling, caressing their burning asses to go to a room of beds where they slept it off.

What does a guy say when he has a 4-year degree in astro-physics?
	“You want fries with that?”
Onion
	The 7:45 showing of “Lilly Pond in the Big Stinkin’ City” was letting out (8:50) in the evening type time.  Other movies were letting out at the same time; The Knight, the Dragon, and Bob; Who Let the Zombies Out?; The Long End of It; and others that drew large evening crowds.  Lots of lingering at the snack counters and especially the restrooms.  Especially.
	It was dark out; lots of people, lots of security, lots of parking lot lighting, lots of people.  There were issues with the intended plan.  Good points (lots of people) and bad points—lots of security, lots of lighting.  So he waited.  Opportunity would show itself.
	Lots of targets presented themselves; young folk wandering thru the parking lot a little lost, playing hide-seek games with their friends, scampering about with their family, and so on.  Targets of Opportunity sighted and locked in.
	A small group of Targets caught Onion’s attention specifically and he watched them as they meandered thru the lot.  Their destination was unclear; they seemed to be loose and wandering haphazardly but they were all going in the general direction of the corner.  There they could cross the street in two directions or to the bus stop.
	The bus stop.  Good choice!
	Checking his watch and he noted that the Number 2 bus for that stop had already come and gone.  There was another that went directly downtown; and the 2A bus would be at 9:30 going up to the junior college.  And that was it.  No more until 7AM—not likely the kids would be hanging there until then.
	The Target group was pretty young, the oldest, a girl, was about ten.  Another girl was about seven, then two boys; one lad about seven and the other about six.  Perfect!
	Onion waited, though; scanning the lot for other Possibles.
	There were none.  Oh, there were but there were complications (security issues; parental units, etc.)  He settled his pursuits on the Subjects—of which who had bolted from the bus stop, crossing the street to the corner popular fast food restaurant.
	Onion fired up his ride and made way to the popular fast food restaurant parking lot; side lot.  He noted the roving security guards and the placement of the security cameras.  Always a bother.  He could see inside the popular fast food restaurant the Subjects gathered at the counter placing their order.
	They were a risk.  For themselves as well as Onion.
	They were out late; too late.  Where were their parents or supervision?  With all the kidnappings and EMAD usage they should have protection.  They should—but didn’t.  The security issue made Onion wary.  Still, though—
	The Subjects got sodas and treats then sat at a table yapping about the movie they had seen.  Onion waited patiently in his ride.  He shook his head at their braveness for being out so late.  It was possible their parents had no idea where they were or what they were doing.  It was possible that someone was supposed to be with them.
	The crosstown bus pulled up to the bus stop across the street.
	The Subject went into panic mode and dashed out of the popular fast food place racing to the stop; but the crosswalk light stopped them—along with the traffic crossing their path.  The Subjects then moved along the sidewalk shouting and waving their hands to get the bus driver’s attention.  He didn’t either see them—or most likely didn’t care.  The bus pulled away and the Subjects fretted.
	“What the fuck do we do now!?” exclaimed one of the boys.
	The oldest girl was too stunned to answer as she watched the bus go.
	“We have to call home.” said the other girl.
	“We do that,” said the oldest girl, “and we’ll be grounded forever.”
	True.
	‘come to the truck,’ said a Voice to the lead girl, ‘the big black truck.’
	The lead girl, ten year old Kellie, turned slowly like a zombie to lock in on the “big black truck.”  Onion’s personal truck was a big big-block domestic American truck, four-door, truck cap, sleek, not meek, big.
	“We are in sooooo much trouble.” said one of the other Subjects.
	Slowly and Kellie began making her way across the lot to the “big black truck.”
	“Where you going, Kellie?” asked one of the boys.
	‘come to the truck,’ said the Voice, ‘follow Kellie.’
	One by one—by one by one—the Subject kids followed the distraught Kellie.  The other girl, eight year old Bridget, lingered watching the boys, Willy, Tray, and Kevin, go off to the big black truck.  Onion had to boost the gain on the EMAD module to fully overwhelm her mind.  No more adjustments were needed as the Subjects all were young and very subject to having their minds overwhelmed.
	When he opened the door to his ride, any door, the interior light did not illuminate—on purpose—for security reasons.  Across the street at the movie plex centre there were flashing lights aplenty.  No fire.  No ambulance.  Cops.  Mall security and local constabulary.  (a young teen who WAS in charge of the Subjects was freaking the fuck out as her young charges were “missing.”)
	Onion fired up his ride and made his way elsewhere.

	For his own pleasure before taking them to the Agency—
	‘take your pants down.’ Directed to the boys one-two-three.
	Seven year old Willy W didn’t even pause a second; seven year old Tray paused about a second or two but unhitched his brown pants and pushed them down.  The six year old, Kevin, paused three seconds before ushering her pants down—no undies!
	Willy had tidy-whiteys and shucked them to his ankles while Tray had underwear on.  The Subjects were friends from a red-neck trailer park and HAD been under the supervision of a young teen.  At the movie plex the teen and the Subjects balked at the other’s movie choice; so, the teen let the kids go to their movie and she went to hers.  Her movie, however, a teen movie, was longer the kids’ movie, a kid movie.  So, when the Subjects’ movie let out early the kids bolted in fun to freak out the teen.  Done!
	Onion flicked a switch enabling all windows to go ultra black.  A monitor on the dash and on the back of the front seats allowed a visual of the goings on around the truck.  Low light within allow visuals of the going on within.  Looking over the young boys and he hoped the Fallen Dragon would be pleased with his offering.
	Looking to the two girls, ‘take off your clothes’ pause ‘except your panties.’
	Kellie didn’t even pause a half second!
	Bridget, eight years young, did pause.  She made a face but the Device overwhelmed her and off came her clothes—except panties.
	Onion sat nestled between the front seats eyeing the delectable girls.
	‘have you seen these boys naked before?’
	Kellie blinked her pretty brown eyes and screwed up her face.  But she nodded that she had—they sometimes skinny dipped in a nearby river, a pond, and in the middle of night streaking about their backyards.
	Bridget, among them, had two older brothers and she saw them playing with themselves—often.
	‘do you PLAY with them, too?’
	A slight pause but the girl indicated that she did—mutual masturbation.  The brothers fingered her AND rubbed their schlongs against her butt and pussy.  No penetration, though.  Not yet.
	The boys three were too young to comprehend “sex” and or “sex acts.”
	‘suck.’ Onion processed to Kellie.  The girl paused, thought thoughtfully, continued to think thoughtfully and needed a little boost in the EMAD module to comply.  Then, the ten year old with the typical split between her two front teeth, shoulder length brown hair, green plastic braid in her hair, emerald earrings, leaned over, cocked her legs, and partook of Willy’s “willie.”
	The girl sort of kind of knew that particular sex act (but had yet to perform it.)  AND she WAS curious about it—but was too shy and afraid to commit.  As she sucked Willie’s willy she fidgeted.  Onion had lessoned the electronic mind link allowing her awareness level to be more thus allowing her to be somewhat herself.  She sucked and sucked, fidgeted-fidgeted, sucked and sucked then found herself bobbing on Onion’s prong, too!
	Her reward was a generous coating of man cum in and on her mouth.
	Taking the girl’s panties down he spread her legs, positioned her on the seat and began licking her out.  Engulfing the youngster’s cunny he delved his tongue into slit and licked heartily getting the girl to squirm and squeal.  He then switched to the other girl, Bridget.  He removed her panties with his mouth!  Latching onto the crotch of the undies he tugged the garment down and off, spread her legs, ogled her nakedness, then applied tongue for up to three minutes—before pressing his hardened cock thereon and humping the slit until cumming off.

	With Kellie sucking away on Tray, Onion glided his cock up and down her ass crack, poked her hole, then glided up and down her slicked up cunny.  He was sure his offering to the Fallen Dragon would be pleasing.  Relatively sure.

It’s dark at the end of the light
	Rocky’s contribution was a twelve year old black girl and a young black boy (not related—just friends.)  Rocky hoped the Fallen Dragon wasn’t prejudice.
	With six you get eggroll; Chuckles’ offering was a mix of Asians; Chinese, Korean, Japanese, and Vietnamese.  Chuckles himself was mostly Chinese.  Mostly.
	Then there was Sergei “Knuckles” Wermecht
	Sergei “Knuckles” Wermecht was an Agent for the Agency; like the other Agents he had a classic-cool panel truck (standard issue vehicle).  Sergei’s ride was dark green colored 1965 panel truck.  Unlike the other Agents, Sergei didn’t stay at the Agency too long.  Just long enough for a shit, shower, shave, and a bit o’ sleep.  Then he was gone—after delivering his special cargo.  Like the other Agents of the Agency, Sergei was devious in nature, sinister by trade, evil incarnate.  Like the other Agents, he had a total lack of morals.
	On one of his brief visits while supping at the table,
	“We’re collecting donations for the Fallen Dragon.”
	“Any preferences?” he asked.
	“Boys, preferred.” said Onion, “Young, preferred.”
	Sergei nodded and continued his supping.
	Onion knew that among all the Agents, Sergei “Knuckles” would provide.  He left the man to his dinner and went on to check the others elsewhere in the house.  When he returned minutes later—Sergei was gone.

Loose cannon
	To some of the Agency Sergei was regarded as a “loose cannon.”  He operated mostly on his own only sometimes paying attention to the goings on of the Company.  Only Virus had any control over him and that as by mere “suggestion.”  But he got results and that was what counted.  He asked for nothing from the Agency/Company but a “safe haven”; a warm bed, hot shower, and a meal.  He requested nothing else.
	Like the other Agents he was equipped with an EMAD.  Natch!
	When he left the Agency house no one knew if whenever they would see him again.  The only time an Agent knew that their “loose cannon” was active was hearing about suspicious activity regarding rash kidnappings (and a few murders!)
	Sergei Knuckles Wermecht was all about making mayhem.

Mayhem in the desert
	Inside a beefed up 1965 dark green panel truck a young boy watched as a young girl was ushered in somewhat roughly.  She was visibly upset.  The boy was already naked.  He sat quiet and still.  The man held the young girl by the arm locking eyes with her saying,
	“Take off your clothes.”
	The girl, Brittany, was petrified—and horrified.  She stared at the man shaking her pretty head in the negative suggesting “no way” for her answer.  The man let go her arm and sat back on his haunches then cast a sidewise glance to the boy, Philip.  Then the man scooted out behind a thick black curtain.
	The petrified girl looked to the naked boy not noticing that he was naked.
	“You’d better do as he says.” remarked the boy.
	“Why?” asked the girl somewhat seriously.
	The boy paused, gulped, looked to the thick black curtain knowing that the bad man was just behind.  He shook his head and let out a sigh,
	“You want like what he will do if you don’t.”
	“What—what will he do?”
	The boy hesitated, sighed again, then rolled over on the seat showing her his ass.
	The girl gasped; her pretty bright eyes focusing hard on the boy’s bare ass, his bright red bare ass.
	The boy didn’t explain but rolled back over to sit still.
	“Take off your clothes.” said Philip, “You’ll be better for it.”
	Brittany sat with knees up and arms about her knees,
	“This is fucked up.” she breathed.
	The boy nodded in agreement.
	Still, though, Brittany hesitated.
	“Wh-what’s he going to do—after?”
	That should be obvious.
	Philip shrugged, he wasn’t sure.
	Brittany gulped, made a face, made another face, clenched herself all over, and began to weep.
	“Will he beat me if I do as he says?”
	The naked boy shook his head—but really, he didn’t know.
	“I don’t want to take my clothes off!” wailed the girl.
	“Then you’ll get beaten.” Phil said matter-of-factly.
	This only made Brittany wail all the more.
	The man came thru the curtain startling the girl.  The boy tried to press himself into the vinyl seat—he knew what was coming.  He was right.  The girl was roughly turned over and several HARD swats were landed to her delicate ass.
	This didn’t go over well for the girl.  She wailed.  Wailed-wailed-wailed.
	The man took a belt to her increasing her wails.
	At the point where the girl’s screams were no long audible the reign of abuse stopped.  The man glared at her saying “TAKE OFF YOUR CLOTHES!”
	Brittany flailed her legs about kicking, lashing out, throwing a fit.  The inflicted pain to her ass wouldn’t go away for a long time.  She lay curled on the floor weeping, sniveling, trembling.
	“I told you.” said the boy. 
	“FUCK YOU!” cried out the girl.
	Philip said nothing more.
	Five minutes.  Ten.  Fifteen.  The man was patient.  Twenty.
	Brittany slowly sat up; still crying, still reeling from the beating, she pulled off her simple blue top with ruffled short sleeves.  Looking to the boy—nothing.  Off came her dress shoes then slowly down came her flowery print kinda blue pants.  Breathing hard she paused.  More clenching.  More glances to the sitting naked boy.
	Then, with a big sigh, Brittany pushed down her purple panties and she was naked.
	The man came thru the curtain frightening the girl.
	“So long as you do as yer told, I wont hurt you.” he told her flatly.
	Brittany nodded.
	It wasn’t overly roomy inside Knuckles’ ’65 but it would do.  The carpeting was new, mixed colours of brown and orange and shades between of each; shag and deep pile.  There was 70s style wooden paneling with insulation behind (sound insulation mostly.)  No windows and the sliding side door was a tricky one to operate (inside and out.)
	“Spread your legs.” Knuckles said calmly.
	“Oh shit!” breathed the heartbroken girl.
	She didn’t know much about the wicked world of perverts and sex but she knew instinctively that spreading her legs was not going to end well.
	Knuckles eyed the girl’s candy then ordered her to, 
	“Finger yourself.”
	Brittany had never “fingered” herself—not to the degree Knuckles wanted.
	Defeated, Brittany lightly “got after it”.
	Her mouth hung open.  Strange feelings had suddenly erupted within her; feelings she had never before experienced.  Knuckles clicked his fingers indicating that the girl to move to him.  Crawling on her hands and knees she made her way and then was turned to see the boy with his legs spread.
	“Suck his dick.”
	Her heart sank.  Her mind went blank.
	The concept of “suck dick” was very elusive to the proper girl.  She had heard boys burp, fart, fart, fart, and cuss; but she had never-ever seen one naked.  Not even little boys!  And at her tender age of merely eight she had no inclination of wanting to see a naked boy.  She wasn’t even curious!  Brittany was more curious about the “whys” of the world; why are there clouds, why is there rain, why do butterflies only appear in spring, shit like that.
	Sucking dick was a concept she just couldn’t comprehend.
	Philip helped her out with opening his mouth making “dick sucking” motions.  It shocked the young girl—and she received a sharp hard smack to her already searing ass.
	“The belt is next.”
	“NOOOOOOO!” wailed the girl.  She fell cringing, screaming, being a handful.  She didn’t get the belt—she got electrocuted.  Philip sat gripped to the seat shedding a flood of tears.  The girl was right, this was fucked up.

	The zap from the handheld taser used mostly to motivate a cow to moo-ve along was brief but it stung just the same.  Then, making an adjustment on his EMAD module helped the girl be more settled and she performed the oral procedure as directed to do so.
	Meanwhile, as Brittany bobbed her head on the startled and stunned Philip, Knuckles worked his organ into the girl’s asshole.  He firstly fingered her poop chute, inserted a greased up butt plug, his finger, and then—his BIG finger.
	Brittany, although her mind eased by the electronic device, was aware—well aware—of his intrusion.
	Philip was quietly freaking out.  He had never had a blowjob before!  He had, though, seen his big brother get sucked by his girlfriend and learned that THAT was what a blowjob he had been hearing about at school.
	After getting off in the girl’s asshole he hoisted her up onto the still stunned-still startled Philip.
	“Put your dick in her—where she pees.”
	You coulda hit the boy with a sledge hammer—and he wouldn’t have noticed.  He was in deep thought as he tried to contemplate the action.  Knuckles took it upon himself to help the situation out—positioning the girl just so and then taking holt of the boy’s schlong guided it into the girl “where she peed from.”
	The natural act of fucking commenced.

	With her shoulders to the back of the seat, and her legs up and back, Knuckles entered into Brittany’s fresh fucked cunt.  Not all the way but most the way.  Going all the way IN didn’t matter.  He pumped slowly, strained, ejaculated, and blow both the girl’s mind as well the boy sitting beside her.
	Phil’s mind was already blown and then some from the fuck he had just had with Brittany.  He hadn’t even started whacking off yet!  Brittany’s mind went blank.  Knuckles pulled out of her spewing spunk all over her hairless cunt.  He smeared it all over her pussy—then onto her mouth.  Philip wasn’t disgusted—just stunned.  Very-very stunned.
	Knuckles caressed the girl’s hair, tugged on her heavy bangs, caressed her face and seemingly adored her.  Looking her over he seemed to be smiling—that was a characteristic not becoming to the man.
	The eyes of young Philip widened as a young-young girl was suddenly shuttled in thru the curtain.  She was clad in terrycloth panties, blue.  Blue eyes, blond hair (that was really-really blond) and all of about five years young.  Brittany remained sitting still; mindless.
	Knuckles looked to the boy.  Nothing was said.
	Slowly and down came the child’s panties.  Knuckles stepped the child’s legs out of the garment then pulled her in close to him where he began fingering her cunny.  The more he fingered the more young Phil got hard.  And when he noticed he got embarrassed saying,
	“Shit!  Oh shit!” and covered himself.
	Knuckles placed the now naked Clarice between Phil’s opened legs.
	The boy’s eyes were locked onto the naked girl.
	“Is-is-is she going to—to—I mean, I mean, are-are you going to make her—uh—well—uh—do that thing you made her do?” indicating the mindless Brittany beside him.
	Nothing was said but the girl was positioned whereas she was poised to do just that—that thing that Brittany had done.  Philip was more than bewildered—even more when he got some kind of good feelings from the little girl sucking him.  Instinctively he knew it was wrong to feel that way—very wrong.  But it was also good—very-VERY good!
	“Aw, Jesus! Mister!” quipped the boy wrestling between the Good and Evil of receiving a blowjob.
	“Just go with it.” said Knuckles.
	Just go with it he said!  The boy looked petrified—for a moment.  Then the super good feeling took him and he enjoyed the blow.  Little Clarice was easily swayed and didn’t know no better.  Knuckles fingered her and when Philip had had enough switched her to sucking him!  And while THAT was going on he indicated to the boy to come down and,
	“Go into her—where she pees.”
	Philip’s mouth dropped.
	“You gotta be kidding, mister!” exclaimed the startled boy.  “She’s—she’s—just a kid!”
	“Either do it—or take the belt!” said Knuckles sternly.
	Philip didn’t want the belt.  He wailed a little, sniveled some, screwed up his sweet round young face.
	“Goddamn it, mister!” he moved down and awkwardly inserted his boyish puddling into the girl’s cunny.  It didn’t go in at first—he poked her asshole.  The girl choked on the manhood so distracted Knuckles “helped” the boy make the proper penetration.
	 Clarice fussed a little but wasn’t disciplined—just fucked.

*

	After some refreshment the kids sat on the bench seat and Knuckles fired up the Envious.  Although Philip wasn’t as mindless as Brittany he was “mindless” just the same.  A few miles down the road and the boy fell asleep—
	Only to awaken by the presence of two girls.
	They were clothed—but not for long!
	“Take off your clothes.” said Knuckles flatly.
	There was so much to take in; the naked boy, the naked girl, the other naked girl, the command to take off their clothes.  Knuckles duct behind the thick heavy black curtain to watch via the monitor on the dash.
	“You’d better do as he says.” said Philip.
	The frightened/confused girls looked to him as if he were a space alien.
	“If you don’t,” he went on, “you’ll be sorry.” and, “he’ll whip you.”
	The girls, friends, looked to one another in horror.
	“It’s best just to do it and get it over with.  You don’t want to be like her.” 
	He pointed with his thumb to the mindless Brittany.
	“Wh-what happened to her?” asked the blond.
	“What’s wrong with her?” noted the brunette noting the mindlessness.
	“She didn’t do what he told her—so he whipped her.”
	The girls, Janna and Sarah, stared wide mouthed.
	“And that’s what happened to her.” Philip added and he wavered his hand before Brittany’s eyes.  Nothing.  Mindless.
	The girls instantly began to weep and cling to one another.
	“You’re going to piss him off—and you wont like it.”
	“Oh God!” wailed Janna.  “What’ll we do!?”
	Sarah shook her head and tried to think thoughtfully.
	“Wh-what happens—after?” kinda already knowing.
	“Stuff happens.” Phil answered.
	“What stuff?” asked Janna.
	“You don’t want to know—but it’ll be worse if you don’t take off your clothes.”
	The girls wailed, a natural thing to do, cringed and continued to cling.
	Suddenly and there he was brimming with pissedoffedness.
	“I said—take off your clothes!” he said with a little more umph.
	In his hand was a belt.  The belt.
	The girls were speechless.  They looked to one another, to the boy, to the girl—then wisely began pulling off their clothes.  Janna, short blond hair in a loose flowing ponytail, blue eyes, a slight overbite shown only when she was greatly embarrassed and/or blushing.  For ten years young she was shorter than most girls in her age group—but she had lumps!  (and not hair one on her dainty little poon!)
	Sarah was the shy one, embarrassed easy, was very curious about everything; and naïve.  Heavy bangs, a bit of chubby cheeks, sweet caring girl who was quite oblivious to sex, sex acts, anything sexual.  She had, though, seen a horse dick—at the local county country fair she saw a horse’s schlong hanging down.  It was embarrassing.
	Janna’s panties were red in color while Sarah’s was basic white.
	Once naked the girls remained sitting on their butts against the seat, legs spread.  They were ordered to “finger” themselves—something that they didn’t do except while bathing.
	Young Mr. Philip had a boner.  He liked naked girls!
	Once the fingering had been done the girls were so ordered to suck the boy.  One at a time—all the way down and his hairless nads, too.  And while they did so—the naughty-naughty man fingered them himself!  The girls had never been so treated—neither girl had brothers or male cousins.  Neither had seen their daddy’s inappropriately.  Neither girl had ever been molested.
	Knuckles fingered each girl, caressed their ass, finger fucked their asshole, then buggered them.  Their holes were very tight—very snug.  They were grossed out by sucking Phil’s schlong, they were beyond embarrassed by being sodomized.
	Then, once the sucking and the butt fucking had been done, they each in turn came up and mounted Phil.  He was embarrassed, too.  But once the girl was seated on his dick and it was “in” that embarrassed feeling was washed away—replaced by extreme pleasure.  He experienced orgasm—just without the mess.
	Neither girl was prepared for fucking—neither girl was prepared for being fucked.  After Phil, they were positioned on the vinyl seat; their own panties was used to clean their broken-in poons.  The naughty man fingered them, explored their cunts with his fingers and then his mouth.
	Then they were fucked.
	It was a slow process, deliberate, done.
	Inasmuch as Brittany was mindless—so were Janna and Sarah.
	Much like Brittany, Janna went a little mindless; her friend Sarah also.
	Philip engaged sexually with the two newcomers—after the highly naughty man had had his turn.  While fucking—the highly naughty man caressed his ass, clutched his balls, and occasionally landed a smack to his pumping ass.  When he was exhausted from fucking the two girls he sat aside and watched as the “highly naughty man” seemed enamored with the girls.  He took them into his soul.  He seemed to adore them!
	After a time, half an hour or so, of admiring the girls, caressing them, fingering their fucked pussies, tilting their legs back and scrutinizing their cornholes—fingering their cornholes—the highly naughty man disappeared back behind the curtain.  The ’65 fired up and it was off again.

Know what the difference is between a non-alcoholic drink and eating your sister’s pussy?  They may taste the same but it aint right! It aint right!
	There’s good luck, no luck, bad luck, worse luck.
	Good luck; getting a singing gig at a popular well-funded church.
	No luck; getting a singing gig at a popular well-funded church on a package deal—singing with other groups meaning less “love offering” booty.
	Bad luck; the singing gig has been moved to another church further away.
	Worse luck; on way to the singing gig at a popular well-funded church on a package deal singing with other groups and the car breaks down in transit.
	Delaney, seventeen, almost eighteen, was more than exasperated.  She loved her politically incorrect car—a huge 1979 Cadillac convertible.  But it was beginning to become problematic; hoses, belts, battery, electric this and power that.  The latest problem was “unknown.”  It just quit while traveling at 65 miles per down the desert highway to the gig at a popular church in the next county.
	There was no steam billowing up from the engine compartment and neither she or her brother, David, had clue one as to what was wrong.  And it seemed as though no one was traveling the desert highway that day—no save for someone in a deep forest green mid-60s panel truck.  It had black mag wheels, not chrome, not shiny.  A black chrome grill, heavily tinted windows, beefed up to stand taller than normal, a boss engine, and some sort of paint scheme on the side that Delaney didn’t see as her attention was on the driver.
	After the truck had stopped just behind the defunct Caddy a tall man exited the truck and slowly made his way to the disabled car.
	“Car trouble?” he asked.
	Delaney, shielding her eyes from the blazing west coast sun nodded explaining “Yeah, it just quit while I was driving.”
	The stranger glanced to the other two, siblings; David fifteen and Erica thirteen.
	“Let’s have a look.” He said sort of sauntering to the front of the long in-need-of-a-paint job car.  The hood was up and there was the general odor of “engine.”
	Delaney came up looking into the engine compartment; David came up to the side while Erica remained leaning against the car kind of in a grump.
	Knuckles gave Delaney a sly look; she had on a simple top, short sleeved, red top with a floral print.  A nice-nice body; trim, slim, curved.  Nice-nice butt, tight-tight jeans.  Long flowing dark brown hair; her brother had sandy brown hair while Erica had light brown hair.
	‘do you see your sisters naked?’
	David shook his head as if to clear it.
	“What?” he said aloud.
	‘are you a virgin?’
	David was stunned and couldn’t comprehend.
	Knuckles tried his luck with his sister.
	‘are you naughty with your brother?’
	There was seriousness in the teen’s face, a long pause, a curious face, then—
	“Yes.” She answered.
	Knuckles, again, almost smiled.  Almost.
	‘you suck your brother’s dick?’
	Almost a longer pause than before; the girl licked her lips, made a furrowed brow, cocked her head and stared-stared-stared at the man before answering—
	“Yes.”
	Further prying led to the knowing that all three sinblings—sinblings engaged in mutual masturbation.  They fingered each other.  They DID see one another naked and only Delaney preformed orally on her brother.  But that was it.  No penetrations; no fucking—no buggering.  Mostly they were afraid of getting carried away—along with getting knocked up regardless of protection.  It just wouldn’t do for the girls of a good church going family to be impregnated by their brother.  No, that wouldn’t do at all!
	‘take your top off.’
	‘take your pants down.’
	Delaney pulled off her top; David undone his pants and pushed them down.
	Peeking around the upraised hood and Knuckles could see the other sibling twiddling her thumb disgruntled that her cell phone couldn’t get a signal (but she was trying anyways.)  Her long brown hair hung loosely about her face disallowing her to see her sister topless.
	No traffic.  Not even.  Temperature soaring at 105 degree F (and climbing.)

	At first and Erica was “What the—” but then was hit with incredible overwhelming mind blurring things she couldn’t make sense of.  The end result was, though, she stripped off all of her clothes—like her brother and sister had done—tossing them into the backseat of the dysfunctional Caddy.
	For personal pleasure, Knuckles liked watching his Subjects undress.
	Delaney had blue polka dotted bikini style panties.  Nice-nice titties engulfed in a simple basic bra.  The boy had typical undies.  Erica had regular panties; yellow.
	Once naked they were marched to the ’65 panel and ushered inside via the passenger door.  Delaney went in first.  Knuckles caressed her ass as her knees were on the seat.  She was—WAS a virgin!  Knuckles fingered her asshole, too.
	David went nextly; he was also a virgin—but ached not to be.  An avid masturbator, he THOUGHT of fucking his sisters.  But he also longed to sink his bone into girls in his social—any girl.  The thoughts towards his sisters was mainly ‘cause they were at the ready and semi willing.
	Erica—also virginal.  Knuckles fingered her two holes, caressed her ass, kissed her cheek and heard a vehicle coming.  

	A truck—big rig (juggernaut to me fine Irish truck drivers) roared by shuttering the ’65.  Inside in the secure cargo area and young Philip had his mind totally like totally blown.  Three new people had come in and two of them were girls!  Teenage girls!  NAKED teenage girls.  Holy shit!
	Further blowing the youngster’s mind was when the oldest girl (Delaney) parted his legs—didn’t even pause!—and began sucking him.  Balls and all!  She sucked—and sucked—and sucked pulling young Phil into a world he did not know existed—but he was pretty sure that he wanted to live there.
	Meanwhile, Erica sat on the vinyl bench seat, legs spread, fingering.  Brother David was wanking—being helped by the five year old, Clarice.  David’s mind was mostly blanked; he was barely-barely aware of the little girl gripping his dick.  His thoughts were mainly on his classmates; girls.  There was a range; girls a couple of years older and girls a couple of years younger.
	‘do you WANT to fuck your sisters?’
	Not Yeah but HELL YEAH!  And for the most part—the girls were kind of sort of willing.  Kind of.  But fear of an accidental pregnancy kept David’s dick to their hands Delaney’s mouth.  Erica had yet to suck her brother—she stuck to handling his cock, letting him finger her pussy, and watch her take a shower—and pee while doing so!
	Delaney was too big to sit on Phil’s lap for sex.  She laid out on the floor and the boy positioned himself on her.  As he fucked her, Knuckles caressed his little tart ass, clutched his hairless sac, and fed Delaney his cock.
	Erica came down and engulfed her brother’s dong.  It blitzed the boy’s mind.  He was “aware” to a dull point—he knew what was happening and it bombastically blew his mind to the point where his confusion interrupted the thought process.
	When young Phil had had his fill…he returned to the seat to watch as the very naughty man entered the teenage girl where he himself had just been.  The boy was mesmerized and was pulled down to watch right up close and personal as the man’s cock pumped the teenage girl’s pussy.  They both squeezed her bodacious teenage titties and the boy himself sat on her face, his balls in her mouth.
	After much ado about sucking and Erica laid out on the cushy carpeted floor.  Brother David licked out her pussy, fingered her funk hole, then moved up inserting his love tool to engage in serious “brotherly love.”  He pumped tenaciously for several minutes cumming off in her right at four minutes.
	The release of orgasm was a wow factor he wasn’t expecting.  Mindless he was.  Not as mindless as poor Brittany but close counts.  There was a bit of blood coating his dick and balls—Janna’s panties were used to clean him off as well as swipe the girl’s broken-in cunny.  A significant amount of cherry juice as well had coated Knuckles’ schlong.

	It took a little minute adjustments to the EMAD module to bring the Wayhigh siblings to an awareness level that allowed them to be both controllable but “aware” of their new surroundings and the happenings within.  Their confusion over the debacle allowed measured controlled.  An emergency button would zombiefy them instantly.
	With that, David James Wayhigh, fifteen, guitar player and singer in his siblings gospel singing group, licked out the pussy of ten year old Janna.  He himself was only vaguely aware of doing such a thing.  Sisters Delaney and Erica—very aware.  The girls were horrified—and in that they realized the deep shit that they were in.  They didn’t know the how but they were aware that they were indeed in “deep shit.”
	Delaney realized right off that they were under the mystical electronical powers of an EMAD device and that there was probably not shit one she could do about it.  She felt paralyzed—unable to say anything or do anything.  Just watch as her brother licked out the ten year old—then positioned himself on her and fucked her.
	“Oh my God!” Delaney blurted.  But that was all she could do.

	David was clueless and virtually mindless.  He pumped the little girl not knowing that she was “little.”  He went two minutes and came.  Pulling out and the extreme pleasure escalated tenfold.  A massive wad of cum shot up the girl’s chest.
	The boy sat back on his heels, panting, sweating, cumming.
	Delaney knew that her brother was being mind controlled.
	She saw the other girls, her sister, the young boy, the naked man who sat close by quietly masturbating.  Was he the one?  Was he controlling their minds?  She didn’t know.  She felt sick to her stomach (and mind.)
	David didn’t cum in Sarah—but he took four minutes trying!

Well fuck me!
	David liked to fuck.  Delaney liked to BE fucked.  So did Erica.  Delaney’s awareness, though, was a bit more than her siblings.  Like Phil, she was aware-aware—and too confused and petrified to do shit about it.  She watched her brother fuck their sister and was alarmed.  She was appalled when he fucked the two ten year old girls and didn’t bat an eye.  Of course, she knew he was under the influence of an EMAD as she herself was.  Didn’t make it any better, though.
	More appalling heart stopping gut wrenching feelings came when her brother sat on his knees and the two youngest girls, Brittany and Clarice masturbate him—then sucked him.  Delaney’s mouth fell open and she felt horribly sickened.  Then, when David was ultra-hard he mounted Delaney herself and fucked her hard.
	Meanwhile, Knuckles put his tool of love to Erica and did likewise.

I saw what you did there—and I liked it!
	Twelve year old Bryan Richurds was having a bad day; woke up late, his butthole still hurt from having experimental butt fucking with his best friend, almost missed soccer practice so his coach was pissed and benched him for a few minutes, after the game…
	…experimental butt fucking?
	After the game his mom was supposed to pick him up.
	She didn’t show.  Which was kind of usual.  She was a bit of a scatter brain and had too many pots on the fire.  Also, her elevator didn’t go all the way to the top; one fry shy of a happy meal, lights are on but nobody’s home, if brains were gasoline/petrol she wouldn’t have enough to power a piss-ant’s motor scooter around a Cheerio!  Doesn’t have much on the ball but leads the League by a cunt hair!  His an intellect that rivals garden tools, brain surfing in Nebraska, a few feathers short of a full duck, and ten pence short of a pound.
	Luckily for Bryan, though, a kind hearted man in a cool looking 60s panel truck came by…
	Delaney watched in some horror as a new boy came into the fray.  He was clothes, young, blond haired, obviously been playing soccer, had a nice smile, and a nice body (once he took his clothes off.)  The girl knew that they were being controlled (but was confuse on WHO was controlling them.)  Every time she locked in on the man—that was it.  She could no longer concentrate, focus, make a more plausible assumption.  Nothing.  When she tried to think, wonder, or even ponder if the man was responsible—her mind went blank.
	‘suck him.’
	The words filled her head burning into her mind.
	The new boy was naked and on his knees right in front of her.
	The new boy was confused but his cock knew what was going on.
	Naked girls on the floor and sitting on the bench seat got the boy’s cock aroused.  The naked teenage girl cupping his fuzzy nads increased that arousal.  The naked teenage girl pressing her lips to his pud moreover increased that arousal exponentially.
	Delaney sucked—sucked—sucked but didn’t get an explosive result for her efforts.  The boy was too mesmerized.  Delaney laid down on the cushiony carpet, spread her legs, and was almost as mesmerized herself.  The new boy was schooled on the fine art of cunnilingus.
	He had seen girls naked before—wee little ones.  Toddlers.  Family members, little cousins.  No girls his age or anywhere close.  He WAS normal in that he was curious about a girl and what she looked like naked.  He WAS normal in that he would like to be naughty with a girl his age or somewhere close.  But he was a little clueless on what “naughty” constituted.
	Licking out the naked teenage girl’s cunny went a long way in cluing him in on the “naughty.”  His pud began dripping pre-cum.  Knuckles caressed the boy’s ass.  Only Philip and Delaney were “aware.”

Ask not why your butthole smells; ask why you are smelling your butthole

	Although he didn’t cum in Delaney he had a pretty good time getting there.
	Bryan went catatonic as he entered into his first orgasm.  He wasn’t a daily wanker—“just occasionally.”  Cumming, or something like, in a girl’s pussy was a wow factor he didn’t know existed.  It felt good!  Even when he pulled out he instinctively and on his own humped the girl’s gash.  A bit o’ sperm squirted out as he did so.
	Knuckles took his turn with Delaney driving her to the brink of orgasmic pleasure she herself did not know existed.  She shuddered and despite knowing full well that she was indeed being raped and that her mind had been compromised—the experience of orgasm—a true orgasm—was mind blowing.
	Bryan went on to put his happy pud into Janna and then Sarah.  Delaney’s mind blanked out totally not remember much after that.  She lastly saw her brother and the new boy double teaming Erica—David was behind her.  There was a strange tingling in Delaney’s cunny; fingered herself and drifted off watching Erica get double fucked.
	The next thing she knew was she was sitting on the carpeted floor, a little dazed, a lot confused, and being handed—and being handed a joint!  The air was already permeated with the stench of marijuana.  She herself had smoked a joint “a couple of times” but never really got high.  Brother David had also smoked a little weed.  Even Erica had taken a hit.
	But the joint that was being passed around was more potent than what any of the Wayhigh children had partaken of before.  Way potent.  Erica choked, David coughed, Delaney’s eyes watered.  And it was only slightly weird that everyone was just sitting nonchalantly around—naked!
	Then, just as she was really feeling freaky—
	TAP! TAP! TAP!
	An interruption.
	Not often was Knuckles caught off his guard.
	Standing outside the driver’s side door (with weapon drawn) a desert highway patrol officer saying gruffingly, “YOU IN THE VAN—COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP!” pause  “SHOW YOURSELF—NOW!”
	Knuckles bristled with pissedoffedness.  Giving a look over his crew he amscrayed thru the curtain poking his hands thru the open window.  He said nothing, the officer said a lot—he was losing his mind after getting a strong whiff of the marijuana.
	“WHO ELSE IS IN THERE?  COME OUT, NOW!”
	The man was kind of young, no rank, no emblems; a basic desert cop.
	Knuckles said nothing—what’s to be said when staring down the barrel of a gun?  The cop continued to rant and make demands.  Knuckles stood nakedly against the ’65.
	“WHO ELSE IS IN THERE?” the man was getting panicky; sweating, nervously holding his service weapon—to the point whereas Knuckles feared the officer would squeeze the trigger prematurely.  Now that wouldn’t do—that wouldn’t do at all.
	“Boot to the head.” Whispered knuckles.
	Actually, the Flying Foot of Quickness as taught by Master Sho.
	“WHAT?” screamed the officer.
	Knuckles smiled and looked down to his foot, the officer looked down to Knuckles’ foot.  The foot came flying up to the man’s head—to the opposite side of his head spinning him around.
	The gun in the cop’s hand was dislodged; Knuckles caught it and when the man turned around—there was his own service weapon pointed at his head.
	The two men stared into each other’s eyes.
	Then Knuckles pulled the trigger.

	The report was pretty loud, the weapon was a .45.  Luckily the area Knuckles had chosen to park his ride was off the desert highway several hundred yards.  The area was desolate, gravel, some huge boulders, a small red rock ridge, lots of desert-scape all around.
	The officer, Nick Manchoosen, lay dead still on the gravel.
	Knuckles stared at him, stretched, sighed slightly, then stooped down to continue staring.  A big rig truck cruised by on the highway; a bird somewhere made some noise.  That was it.  Knuckles undone the cop’s utility belt, holstered the just fire weapon, then made way to the cop’s cop car noting the passenger in the backseat—freaking out.
	“Oh my God!  Oh my God! Oh my God!” she was saying.
	Knuckles paused—this was getting complicated.
	The noonday sun began to sear his skin.  Coolly he opened the passenger’s side door.  The girl, a teenager, handcuffed, kicked the back of the seat continuing to freak the fuck out.  She had witnessed the murder of the Nick Manchoosen and wasn’t taking it well.
	Knuckles removed the shotgun then took the keys from the ignition and opened the trunk.  There there was a bounty; blankets, teddy bears, water, a box of snacks, and more weapons with ammo.  A bounty!
	 “Out.” Knuckles said to the girl.
	The girl shook her head, screamed something, and was in no way getting out.
	Then Knuckles showed her the handcuff keys.
	“I’ll let you go.” he said dryly.
	The girl still remained not getting out.
	Knuckles shrugged saying “Suit yourself.” and slipped in the front seat looking over the onboard computer trying to determine if the cop had made note of his truck’s license plate.
	“He called dispatch.” the handcuffed girl in the backseat said.
	Knuckles fumed, nodded, “Thanks.”
	Luckily and Sergei “Knuckles” Wermecht had some knowledge in computers, he was, after all, a computer programmer—with a degree!  He also had a degree in astro-physics, foreign languages, and art history.  A well rounded man, who sat naked in a cop car erasing all data.
	Then, once more he opened the passenger door saying “Out.”
	He didn’t look like a dope smoking hippie, just someone who was smoking dope.  No long hair, no tattoos, no scars, no “rough” look or even a stoner look.  He seemed normal.  Except he was naked and had just shot a cop in the head.  Except that.
	Laci Treemble was more than uncertain.  She was a runaway—leaving her pissed off mom for a boy who was not a boy and barely still a teen.  But she was caught and apprehended by the now dead cop.  Against better judgement she scrambled out of the cop car—and was instantly besieged by the naked cop killer and electrocuted—by the cop’s taser.

	Lacie awoke from her electrocution stupor being more confused than Delaney.  Everyone was naked!  Kids!  Teens!  She was really messed up and didn’t know what the fuck to think.  There was the funny smell of those funny cigarettes.
	‘lay down.’ said a Voice.
	“What?  Huh?” Lacie asked.  A big tittied girl she had decent form; she was sixteen, a sometimes cheerleader, dark brown hair, hazel eyes.  She heard the words and understood them but she was slow to react.  Confusion reigned supreme in her mind.  Then she felt an overwhelming force compelling her.  It was the strangest thing!  It was like seeing herself, experiencing one of those “out of body” experiences or something; she actually laid out on a goofy carpet that was very soft/spongy.  Then, then there was a man climbing on top of her.
	It was Allen, her 19yr old boyfriend.  It was Scott, another boyfriend.  It wasn’t Kam, her fifteen year old cousin who gave her twenty dollars for a fuck a few weekends ago when she needed money for a bus ticket to meet her boyfriend.
	It was no one she knew.
	No, wait—that guy.  That guy who had shot that cop!
	Horror began to swell within Lacie.
	Lacie wasn’t a slut, but she wasn’t a prude and far—very far from being a naïve virgin.
	“Not saying she’s a whore, but she calls her underwear “ankle warmers.””
	“Not saying she’s a whore, but she needs an odometer installed in her cunt.”
	“Not saying she’s a whore, but she’s been on more wieners than ketchup!”
	Knuckles entered the girl—his cock was a bit more than her boyfriends and cousin.  He gave her a ride and then some.  It was obvious that the girl hadn’t had a proper fuck.  Knuckles gave her one—then raised her legs to poke and then prod her asshole.  THAT at least WAS virginal!
	Turning the bedraggled girl over and swatting her ass bare handed came nextly.  The girl was only vaguely aware of it.  Her awareness came around when she was struck with the belt.
	David took his turn and blew a massive wad inside the girl as well as when he withdrew a significant cum blast up her body.  His mind locked up at that point and had to be brought back to reality by a smack to his ass by the belt.
	Bryan fucked the girl five minutes without cumming.  So he scooted up her body to squash her bodacious titties and do the infamous titty fuck whereupon after some hellacious sucking from Lacie the boy emptied his balls.
	Knuckles gave little Clarice the teddy bear from the cop’s car; the snacks were handed out then the truck was fired up and off to the next adventure.

The next adventure
	Time?  Meaningless when you’re partially stoned, naked, and way confused.
	Delaney tried-tried-tried to get a grip of herself.  After the newest member had been fucked (and spanked) they were all off for destination unknown.  They traveled at highway speed for sometime—again, time was meaningless.  Then the truck stopped.
	Only lightly did Delaney realize that she was not restrained.  If the others were she didn’t know it or realize it (try as she might to do so.)  She just couldn’t think clearly; each time she tried to determine if her brother or sister were restrained somehow—she got a powerful headache and her vision blurred.  She found (and learned) that once she stopped trying to determine her siblings status, so did the headache and blurred vision.
	While getting gas for his ’65 and more treats for his crew, Knuckles took note of the wallet he had obtained from the desert cop.  Knuckles had only planned on taking the money on the ruse of making the murder look like a possible theft gone wrong.  Or something.
	There was the sum of fifty-three dollars in the wallet.
	But the money wasn’t the thing that got Knuckles’ attention.
	It was the cop’s family.
	A loving wife and two—two adorable children.  A boy and a girl.
	A six year old Korean boy and a seven year old black boy were added to the crew of the ’65 and then they were off to visit the slain cop’s family and give them the bad news.

	There was something—something about the girl in the family photo.
	Something.
	Something familiar.
	The boy in the picture was older, approximately thirteen (but looked twelve!)  The girl was about twelve (but looked younger!)  blond hair, blue eyes, typical family.  Only when he confronted the family did Sergei “Knuckles” Wermecht make the connection.
Mollie
	The devout cowboy lost his favorite Bible while he was mending fences out on the range. Three weeks later, a cow walked up to him carrying the Bible in its mouth.  The cowboy couldn't believe his eyes. He took the precious book out of the cow's mouth, raised his eyes heavenward and exclaimed, "It's a miracle!" "Not really," said the cow. "Your name is written inside the cover." 
	Mollie Beavermoth was a cute kid; she was just three months into her twelfth year and cute as a button.  Full of life, enjoyed life; active—a tree climber, rock climber, hill climber.  She liked to write, too; she had written a short story about butterflies “Where do butterflies go when it rains?”  A sweet girl; she loved the outdoors; helping a nearby meadow that was in need of water—so she connived friends and neighbors to make a water way from the nearby pond.
	A sweet girl—with a naughty side.  And Sergei found that side when he asked her to go help him “count cows.”
	Sergei was dating Mollie’s older sister, Brandi.  They were in their last year of high school and Sergei had an outdoor job of “counting cows” on a rancher’s field located just outside of town.  The relationship between Sergei and Mollie was a good one—counting cows was not Brandi’s thing.  She liked the outdoors but stinky cows crossed the line.
	Cows—cows-cows-cows; but in two hours of going along a lone dirt road, up a hill, thru a valley of hills, the counting was done.  They were miles and miles and miles from “anywhere.”  Right out in the middle of nowhere but there was some shade to be found under a lone oak tree.  Sergei parked his mid-sized pickup there and broke out the drinks and snacks.
	The two talked about cows.
	Mostly and Mollie cut jokes—then she cut a fart.  It broke Sergei up and he learned then that Brandi ripped ungodly butt blasts of her own.  More cow jokes, more fart jokes—Mollie was a sweet kid who was easy to get along with and didn’t seem to embarrass easy if at all.
	Sergei slid off of the letdown tailgate going behind the tree.
	Mollie giggled, “I know what you’re doing!”
	“Me, too!”
	When Sergei came back around to the truck, there was Mollie clutching her crotch like little kids would do when they had to “go.”
	“You gotta go, too?” he asked with a smirk.  “The tree’s free!” he chortled.
	Mollie shrugged, “Not yet.”
	There was something about the girl; her beautiful brown eyes, her face, her demeanor, her persona.
	“What?” asked Sergei.
	Again, the girl timidly shrugged saying “Just wondering.”
	“Just wondering…what?”
	“If you’d do something for me.”
	“Probably.” the cowboy returned unknowingly.
	Now the girl blushed.
	“Well, there’s something I like that just about no one will do for me—unless I get in trouble.”
	Sergei had no idea.
	Mollie pursed her lips, sighed, scuffed the dirt nudging a cow pie out of the way (and still clutched her crotch!)
	“Well, spit it out!” said Sergei getting impatient.
	“I like to be spanked.”
	You coulda knocked him over with a tumbleweed.
	“What?”
	“When I get in trouble I get whooped.” she explained, “And I like it.”
	Sergei didn’t know what to say not to mention respond.  How do you respond to that?
	“Soooo, yer dad—”
	“Yeah, until he caught on.”
	“Caught on?”
	“Yeah, I was breaking windows and stuff just to get in trouble so he would whoop me.” pause “He caught on.”
	“Soooo, no one whoops you now?”
	Mollie shook her head sadly, “No.”
	“I asked my friend, Lonnie, to do it but it weirded him out.”
	Sergei sat in his truck, passenger side.  His mind all a wonder.
	“Soooo, uh, how—how do you like it?”
	Mollie kind of brightened up and shrugged saying, “Well, across the knees to start.”
	Sergei nodded, “Ok.”
	Mollie laid herself across the cowboy’s knees.
	The cowboy paused for several seconds debating; then—
	SMACK!
	It wasn’t hard.
	Mollie looked over her shoulder giving him a look conveying ‘is that the best you can do?’
	“I-I just don’t want to hurt you.” Sergei said apologetically.
	“You wont,” she returned, “I like it.” ‘and the harder the better!’
	So, SMACK! It WAS a little harder.  The girl squirmed and he could see her ass tighten.  Never-ever had he thought of the youngster in any sexual way or manner.  Never-ever.  She was a cute kid and that was that.
	SMACK!  SMACK!  SMACK!
	Sergei obliged the weird girl and suddenly found himself in a precarious situation.  One, he had a boner.  Two, he had dark thoughts surfacing in his mind.  With Mollie’s sister, Brandi, they had engaged sexually; they had groped, fingered one another, and fucked-fucked-fucked.
	After smacking Mollie’s ass he was having those same thoughts—those same desires.  Slowly and he began circling his hand about the girl’s ass.  He wanted to finger her—badly.  Then, the girl squirmed and stood up.  Grinning big she rubbed her ass.
	“Not bad.” she said smiling and blushing.
	“Not bad?” Sergei almost shrieked.  His hand stung and his boner was about to bust out of his pants.
	“You want to do some more for me?” Mollie asked.
	Sergei was stunned.  “Really, you-you want more?”
	Mollie nodded, pursed her lips, then—
	“But would you mind if—I take my pants down?”
	You coulda knocked the cowboy over with a cow.  The whole cow and nothing but the cow.
	“Are you serious?”
	Mollie nodded and unhitched her pants pushing them down to almost her knees.  Sergei couldn’t believe it.  Looking around for security’s sake (and to see if there was a camera hidden somewhere)—
	“Uh, this-this is going to get carried away.”
	“I don’t care.” said the girl shrugging.
	Sergei looked to the girl—the wow factor was staggering.  But,
	“Ok.”
	Mollie smiled and returned to the cowboy’s knees.
	SMACK! pause SMACK!  SMACK!  shit…
	Boner emissions.
	‘This is going to get carried away.’ he said.
	‘I don’t care.’ she said.
	Sighing, Sergei made circles about the girl’s ass again.
	She was twelve.
	SMACK!  SMACK!  SMACK! then—
	Mollie inched down her panties.
	‘Oh shit!’ then aloud “Oh shit!”
	All of her ass was revealed.  All of her ass was red.
	Mollie herself caressed her ass, squeezed a cheek, then stood up.
	Sergei couldn’t help but ogle the girl’s pussy.
	Mollie herself fingered her pussy.  There were more boner emissions…
	“You can take it out if you want.” the girl said calmly.
	Sergei about lost his mind.  He stared—and stared—and stared some more.
	“Wh-what?”
	Mollie nodded, licked her lips, rubbed her ass, rubbed her pussy.
	Sergei couldn’t believe it—but, not one to pass up opportunity…
	He whipped it out.
	It was hard.
	It was pulsing.
	It was cumming.
	Mollie was grinning.
	“Can I touch it?” she asked politely.
	Sergei gulped.  He knew—he knew that if she “touched” it—that was it.  Morals would be all over; kicked to the curb, obliterated.  There was a boundary, a line, a moral issue that shouldn’t/couldn’t be crossed.  But he shrugged himself, leaned back a little in the seat, and presented the “offering.”
	Mollie gripped the pulsing cumming dong, smiled, blushed, and then began masturbating it.  She did!  And Sergei liked—a lot!
	“I gotta pee.” The weird girl suddenly blurted.
	“Thanks for sharing.”
	And as if the boy’s mind wasn’t blown already the weird girl stepped it up a notch—going ultra weird by taking her pants AND panties down and off.  DOWN and OFF!
	‘holy fucking ass crackers!’
	Then—THEN she stood a couple of feet back, spread her legs, and commenced to peeing.  She did!  Right there and then.  Peeing.  Standing up!
	Sergei’s mind was officially blown.
	Sergei’s mind was officially obliterated when, after finishing her pee, crawled onto him settling down on his honker.
	‘Fuck it,’ said Sergei to himself, ‘going to jail, going to hell, might as well enjoy the ride!’ might as well.
	Clasping the girl’s spanked butt he drove his prick into the girl’s cunny.
	At the time, he didn’t know if she were a virgin or not.  He didn’t care.  It didn’t matter.  It felt good!  There was no denying the feeling.  He made some noises; Mollie giggled.  She did a fair amount of pumping herself.  Clasping tightly the girl’s ass and Sergei blasted her cunny with a generous helping of love cream.
	The Russian-American didn’t relax; his hands smoothed all over the naughty weird girl’s as; fingering her funk hole, and then—THEN found himself kissing her!  Frenching!
	Their passion escalated and soon—soon and Mollie was laying on the truck’s bench seat and Sergei was fucking her brains out.
	Colleen, eleven, was a dead ringer for Mollie.  Sergei “Knuckles” Wermecht found himself incredibly enamored with the girl.  She was eleven, her brother was thirteen—but looked a sheepish twelve! The mother, Mabel, was in her thirties and quite a looker.  Knuckles parked his ’65 in the alley and walked all the way around the block to the dead cop’s house.  The area was mostly without trees or vegetation.  New housing, the oldest home in the area was a scant 6 years.
	When the Lady of the House asked from behind the door who he was when he tapped on the door,
	“Jonathan Sikes, police department.” and he flashed a badge—not his, but the Lady of the House’s dead cop husband.
	Mabel opened the door—and was immediately besieged in her mind by his crafty EMAD module.  She stumbled backwards and for a moment or two fended off the mind attack.  No matter, Knuckles had a back-up.
	Children Colleen and Shane came out of their rooms when they heard the ruckus.  They stood in shock at the hallway transition—mouths agape, to startled and shocked to react properly.  On the floor their mother was twitching, convulsing, blubbering uncontrollably—she had been electrocuted by Knuckles’ handy-dandy taser i.e. cattle motivator.
	Then he pulled a gun aiming at the kids.
	It was the kids’ father’s gun, the .45.
	Colleen, clad in an extra large kind off yellow shirt and semi tight jeans—wet ‘em.  Had not the boy gone pee earlier he would have peed himself, too.
	“Take off your clothes.” Knuckles said sternly.
	Too shocked were the kids to comply—so he zapped their mother until they did.  Mabel almost seized up being shocked multiple times—she also peed herself.  The kids were crying and very upset.  The boy, Shane, stripped off his clothes first then had to help his sister out of hers.  She fussed and slapped at her brother when he tried to help.  She was a handful—no matter how much he (Knuckles) pressed the prongs to her mother, Colleen wasn’t complying.
	And making her do so via the EMAD wasn’t working—not all minds were affected by the use of the mind controlling device.  Nor was the boy.  Another jolt to Mabel and she went a little still.
	“OH SHIT!” screamed the boy, “YOU KILLED HER!”
	“No,” said Knuckles, “she’s still breathing.” He pointed out the woman on the floor in jeans and simple purple tee-shirt was indeed still breathing.
	Juggling weapon, EMAD, and the dead weight of Mabel was a tricky task but somehow he managed and moved the family into the parental bedroom.  There and Mabel was hefted onto the bed.  She was delirious and still twitched some.
	Then, once again,
	“Take off your clothes.” directed to the still clothed Colleen.
	The girl was still upset and threatening her or her mother wasn’t working.
	So he put the barrel of the .45 to their mother’s pussy and glared at the girl.
	“Get naked or…”
	Colleen was stunned and couldn’t believe what was happening—or going to.
	Knuckles looked to the boy and nodded.
	Shane now had little trouble getting his sister’s clothes off.
	Making minute adjustments to the EMAD and Knuckles finally got a mind lock to the girl.  Just a link, just a lock—but it would enough to calm her and keep her emotions in check.
	Shane slipped off his sister’s top and fumbled getting her bra off.
	Colleen had straight blond hair slightly styled with heavy bangs and a plastic hair braid across the top of her head.  She wasn’t very lumpy but lumpy enough.  She played soccer, ran track, rode horses on the weekend, and liked to rock climb.
	Shane lowered her jeans and there were bright yellow panties to greet them.
	“Do you fool around with your sister?” Knuckles asked.
	The boy’s eyes widened and he shook his head in the negative prompting Knuckles to put the .45 to his mother’s crotch—“tell me the truth.” he warned.
	The boy began to weep and nodded in the positive, “sometimes.” he wailed.
	“Does she…suck your cock?”
	The boy about lost it at the boldness of the question.  He shook his head No.
	“Do you finger her pussy?”
	The boy nodded that he did.  In turn, she played with his dick.
	That was all; getting naked, fingering, nothing more.
	“You got rope, twine, duct tape?” Knuckles asked.
	Shane nodded and was given the head nod from Knuckles to go get.
	“And don’t do anything else!” Knuckles warned as the boy fled the room.
	A moment, a moment more…
	Knuckles picked up the phone on the nightstand…nothing, dial tone only.
	The boy returned with some rope and duct tape.  The rope was used to secure trash and such from the house to Shane’s dad’s truck.  Knuckles used it to secure the naked boy’s now naked mother to the bed.  The boy stopped dead in his tracks upon seeing his mother.
	“Put your dick in your sister’s mouth.” Knuckles ordered.
	The boy was stunned. The girl was equally so.  Knuckles put the .45’s barrel into the boy’s mother’s twat.  Weeping, cringing, begging, Shane put his not-hard cock into his stunned sister’s mouth.  Knuckles stripped off his clothes and mounted the woman putting his cock into her pussy and fucking her for a full four minutes.
	Shane was horrified; he didn’t know rightly what “rape” was but he was pretty sure he had just seen it in action.
	“What I just did to your mom, do it to your sister.”
	Shane’s eyes of brown widened big.  His mouth hung open and he shook his head conveying “NO WAY.”  ‘NO FUCKING WAY.’
	Yes way.
	Knuckles didn’t put the .45 into the woman’s cunt to motivate the boy, instead; he picked up the riding crop that was by the closet door.  A riding crop to motivate a horse could also be used in the bedroom for kinky adventures.  And also for motivating stubborn boys.  Knuckles grabbed the boy pinning him to the bed and whipping him harshly.
	The boy screamed, wailed, and made nonsensical words to the point where he was spitting.  His bare skin from his back to his legs were stricken with welts and bleeding.
	Grabbing the boy’s head and whispering severely into the boy’s ear,
	“Do what I told you—or I’ll whip your sister!”
	The boy was more horrified than ever.  He begged, wept, cringed more, and when Knuckles went to carry out his punishment the boy intervened laying down o his sister gliding his tool that was no where near being hard (enough) against the girl’s cunny.
	At length, though, with enough grinding the boy managed to get a significant stiffy and entered his sister’s virgin poon.  He pumped and pumped and pumped but was unable to cum.
	“Fuck your mother.” Knuckles demanded.
	“You’re insane!” cried the boy.
	Knuckles nodded, “Yeah, certified!” he gave a half whimsical smile but only so.  Then he glared at the boy and the boy mounted his mother.

	With evening type time coming on it was time to amscray.  Knuckles moved the kids to his ride where young Shane was once more horrified at the passengers within.  After counting heads he returned to the house and the bedroom.  Inserting the barrel of the .45 he pulled the trigger.
	Mabel twitched and twitched, burbled and made odd gagging noises.
	Knuckles removed the duct tape then took the whiskey bottle from the dresser, more from the mini bar in the living room, the beer from the fridge, and made himself scarce…just in time.
	As Knuckles pulled out of the alley and onto the street he saw two highway patrol cars screech in front of the house.  He sighed, stretched, and turned the opposite direction out of town.
	As the four state police officers entered the house they found the kids’ clothes on the floor.  Then they found Mabel on the bed—dead-dead-dead.
	Officer Klownwell keyed the mic on his radio to dispatch.
	Officer Link stepped back out into the hall saying,
	“Hey, you guys smell something funny?”
	“Like what?” asked the other officer.
	“Like…gas?”
	Klownwell keyed the mic…  …  … and the house exploded.

*
And then—
	“I’ll rip the hide right off of you if you don’t do as you are told, got me?”
	The boy nodded.  He was petrified and way beyond confused.
	After being scolded and warned—
	“Suck him.”
	Shane sat more than bewildered in the mass of naked people, back against a wine colored vinyl seat.  No windows, the roof vent was open to allow air intake, there was a slight stench of “uncleanliness” and a naked teenage girl was going down on his cock.
	He spread his legs wide and just stared in awe as the girl sucked him.
	There was no denying the good feeling from the suck job.  He was in awe.
	She, Delaney, didn’t bring him off—but close counts.  His cock was rock hard and his mind?  Blown also.  Then, the man who had whipped him and made him fuck his mother was told to fuck the girl who had just sucked him.
	It took a minute for the command to sink in—and it was allowed.
	And while he was ramming his rod into the teenage girl he was loosely aware of some boy doing the same to his sister!  The girl beneath him was pretty; she had nice titties and as he got into her groove she clutched his ass—that was still in discomfort from the earlier whipping.
	After fucking Delaney for some minutes—and not cumming off, the boy sat back again against the seat and another girl came to suck him.  Shane blinked his eyes and slung his head trying to clear it.  This was messed up.  As the new girl sucked on him, the girl that he had just fucked sucked on the man’s cock.
	Again and Shane didn’t cum off then but did while pumping into the teen’s pussy.  Three minutes into the fuck and he released a torrent of pent up cum.  His energy depleted he lay off on the floor in a wash of mass confusion.  His mind was just about gone—who were all these people?  Who was the man?  Was this a dream?  Strangely, there was no thought to his sister.

	When he had recovered somewhat he got a soda to drink and a joint to smoke.  The girl he had just fucked sat with folded legs staring at him.  She seemed mindless, too.  The other girl he had fucked, the one who had sucked him firstly, offered him some encouragement saying simply “it’ll be alright.”
	Shane was no stranger to smoking weed, he had some friends and they liked to go off in secret and puff-puff.  When he had downed the soda and puffed-puffed on a joint it was back to sucking and fucking.  Another teen (Lacie) sucked his dick AND balls, then straddled him for the ensuing fuck.  While they fucked the girl was smacked with a belt.  Not hard but it made her jolt and cringe.
	Shane blasted a new load of spunk into the girl’s cunny very muchly draining him.  No rest; after Lacie pretty little girl Sarah sucked him.  She didn’t like it—freshly explunged from cunnies?  Eewewe   but the girl knew that if she didn’t do as told she would be spanked.  And after sucking she laid out and got fucked.  Knuckles caressed the boy’s pumping ass but didn’t spank him.
	Shane didn’t cum.  Not in Sarah.  Janna, who came nextly, did get a cum blast.  It wasn’t as much as it had been in the previous girl he had cum in but it was a good one regardless.  Mindless Brittany sucked him; made a face and very nearly puked—as had both Janna and Sarah.  Shane really had an issue messing with such young girls.
	“Either they suck you and you fuck them—” he didn’t need to finish.  Suck and fuck or be whipped.  Shane in no way wanted to be spanked so he relented and accepted by sucked on by the young girls and even the youngest, Clarice.
	The rest of his adventure was kind of a blur.  He saw the man fuck his sister, the other one.  He stared a long-long-long time before realizing that the pretty blond laying on the shag carpeting grunting as she was fucked was his sister.  When the man got his rocks off and pulled out he had Shane come over and sit on his sister’s face placing his ball sac into her mouth.
	Dully he complied finding himself slowly becoming disenchanted—or dislocated from reality.  Then—
	“Suck me.”
	Shane blinked his eyes excessively.  “What?”
	“Suck—me.”
	Shane locked eyes on the man’s cock—freshly pulled from Colleen’s pussy.
	As many as three minutes elapsed before the boy leaned down his sister body and took the man’s cock into his mouth.  He instantly regretted and almost—almost vomited.  But the man held his head by the hair holding him in position.
	Then he heard—
	“Fuck his ass.”

	A boy Shane didn’t know moved into position.  When Shane tried to turn around to see what the fuck was going on the man held his head harder pulling his hair.  The other boy, Bryan, positioned himself and guided his only partly hard cock into Shane’s virgin crapper.
	After Bryan, David.  Thankfully the new boys and the first boy, Philip, didn’t have to participate in the grueling butt fucking.
	Knuckles then filled Shane mouth with jiz.

Epilogue
	Just before dawn with the skyline of the neighboring City glimmering in the morning sun Sergei Knuckles Wermecht pulled into the Agency and into the large-extra-large garage to unload his cargo.
	Rocky was there along with Onion, they were impressed.
	Knuckles took a shower and got a breakfast.
	Rocky and Onion ushered the newcomers into bathrooms for cleanup and business with the toilet.  Then they were fed and settled into introductory room.  Knuckles finished his meal and went to a bedroom for Agents and napped until noon.
	“News says there was a lot of mayhem lately in the desert,” said Onion, “we have you to thank for that?”
	Knuckles shrugged, sipped his coffee, “I was panning for gold.” he remarked then went back to bed.

With six you get eggroll
	“She’s here.” announced another Agent lacky.
	Members of the Agency sat in a board meeting room discussing the Agency’s affairs; money, trafficking, the alien booze, EMADs, alien butt fuckers.
	“Hope she will be satisfied.” Rocky said.  He’s only contribution was a seven year old black boy.  A black girl, twelve, was also added but the Fallen Dragon wasn’t into girls as much as she was into boys—young boys.
	The Fallen Dragon arrived in her typical stretched Jaguar limo.  It just barely fit in the Agency’s three-car garage.  She was surrounded by her entourage of lovely Chinese ladies clad in their “cheongsam” or “qipao”.  Cheongsam is derived from the Cantonese (and Hong Kong) dialect which translates to “long dress.” Qipao is a Mandarin pronunciation which translates to “banner gown.”  The name for Chinese dresses were derived from the late 1800s to early 1900s.
	And despite their attire, the ladies could easily dispatch any villain.
	Virus was not at the Agency—he was out fulfilling the Fallen Dragon’s desires.  Onion escorted the Chinese woman to that “special room” with some trepidation.  The woman frightened him some.  Some.
	Once the Fallen Dragon had entered the special room Onion amscrayed.  What went on in the room—the disrobing and settling the Fallen Dragan (Candice Zhang) was a personal and private moment.  Onion strove hard to avoid eye-to-eye contact with the woman.
	“How’s your girlfriend?” an Agent would often chide their leader, Virus.
	“Ready to devour your soul.” Virus would often reply.
	Of that and Onion had no doubt.
	In the Intro Room; Shane?  No.  David?  No.  Looking over the newcomers was a selective process.  Philip?  Yes!  Bryan?  Hmmm  maybe.  Jeremy Po?  He was a cute six year old Koren—so, Yes!
	Chuckles’ contribution was all Asians; Korean, Chinese, Vietnamese, etc.
	Kap Ho, Li Loo, Sam Woo, San Ju, and Kip Wang.  Kap and Li were very cute five year olds while Sam was a handsome six year old.  San Ju was seven years young while Kip Wang was the oldest at eight.  What age minimums or maximums were for the Fallen Dragon were not known exactly.  It seemed as though that twelve was about the cutoff point.  How young?  Unknown.
	Onion’s contribution of two seven year olds and a six year old were good to go; from the boy scouts there were the boys all (again) but Onion knew that it were the younger boys ten and eleven that were preferred.  Of course there, too, was Ben from the original group setting as well as Nick from the Garage Band.
 	So, roughly…nineteen boys!  Nineteen!  Maybe that ought to sate the Fallen Dragon.  Maybe.  And Virus had yet to make HIS contribution!  And, there was ONE MORE Agent out in the field.

“It was a sad and disappointing day when I discovered that my Universal Remote Control unit did not, in fact, control the universe.  Not even remotely!”

Nog
	Three boys running caught his attention.  And it was obvious that the lead boy was being “chased” by the others.  The area they were running in was a small grove of eucalyptus trees mixed with misplaced oak, live oak, a pine tree here and there, and so on.  Flat ground mostly with a few small hills upsetting the otherwise flat landscape.  Farmland was the makeup on the landscape, soybeans the crop mainly along with corn.
	The lead boy was a good runner and had at least twenty-five yards on the chasing boys—that was until a fourth boy stepped out from behind a defunct farm tractor waylaying the boy right out.
	“HA!” shouted the boy.

	The boy laid out had been struck in the stomach with a tree branch and lay withering in some discomfort.  The chasing boys caught up, wheezing out of breath.  With hands on their knees they heaved and heaved with one boy saying,
	“Motherfucker can run!”
	“Not anymore!” exclaimed beamingly the boy who had waylaid the cringing boy on the ground.
	“We gonna fuck you up, now!” said one of the heaving boys.
	“We gonna fuck you up so hard your fuckin’ momma wont recognize you!”
	The boy on the ground sputtered and threw dirt and leaves up at the boy who had did the cheap shot; then he scrambled to his feet and despite his pain began to run again—but the boy who had smacked him grabbed him throwing him into a eucalyptus tree.  The boy, leader of the pack, rammed his knee into the hapless boy, Bo.  The other boys began to chortle with one saying,
	“Fuck ‘im up, Goadee!”
	The boy, Goadee, hit Bo in his left side as hard as he might.
	“Bust him up, Goadee!” chided another lackey.
	Goadee slung Bo from the tree to the ground kicking him in the thigh—but was aiming for his balls.  Bo reeled rolling in the dirt struggling to breathe.
	“I told you, motherfucker, I fuckin’ told you not to talk to my girl!”
	The wriggling like a cut worm the boy on the ground sputtered something but it was incomprehensible.  Goadee kicked the boy in the ass.
	“Fuck him up, good, Goadee!” encouraged another.
	Goadee lashed out aiming his kick to Goadee chest—Bo somehow managed to grab the Goadee’s foot throwing it back sending Kelly Goadee to the ground.  Bo struggled to get up but was grabbed by the other youths who wrestled him to the ground on all fours.
	“Now you die, motherfucker!” Goadee said coming up bringing out a switchblade.
	“Slice his face, Goadee!”
	“Cut his fuckin’ nose!”
	“Stab his fucking eyes!”
	Goadee leered at Bo, “I warned you, motherfucker,” he sneered, “now yer gonna fuckin’ pay!” to wit Bo spit at Goadee yelling “FUCK YOU, BITCH!”
	Goadee slashed Bo’s face across the right cheek.
	Bully lackey Frank grabbed a holt of Bo’s thick black hair yanking his head back, “Slash his fuckin’ throat, Goadee, get this shit over with!”
	“Yeah, just slash his fucking neck!”
	Just as Goadee was about to slash the twelve year old boy’s throat—
	‘take your clothes off.’
	Kelly Goadee slung his head, “What?” he said looking to his flunkies.
	The boys looked to one another then back to their leader.
	Again and Goadee began to carry out the slitting act—
	‘stop—back up—take off your clothes.’
	Goadee paused, looked really-really confused, but backed up and began removing his clothes.  His flunkies looked to him conveying “what the fuck?”
	“Wh-what’s up, Goadee?”
	“Hey, Goadee, what you gonna do? Make ‘im suck yer dick?”
	Bo wriggled hard in the boys’ grasp but their grip on him was pretty sound.
	Goadee, thirteen, one of the meanest boys in the tri-county area, disheveled dirt brown hair, fucked up blue eyes, not quite white teeth, stripped off all of his clothes.  His flunkies (lackeys) had seen him naked more than once; they skinny dipped thru the summer quite often.  He was a slender built lad, being a bully he was fairly strong toting heavy bags of flour, corn, and whatever else that was “heavy” in his daddy’s general store warehouse.
	As he neared Bo the flunkies began to jeer (and cheer).
	“Fuck his face!”
	“Yeah!  Make the scuz suck it!”
	Bo fought with all his might but the might of the flunkies was greater.
	‘what do you got to offer?’
	‘wh-what?’
	‘I can help you out of this—but I require payment of some kind.’
	‘I-I don’t have any money.’ pause ‘I-I got a new fishing pole!’
	‘I’ve done worse—ahem!  Got any sisters or brothers at home?’
	‘naw, my brother Roy died couple years back.’
	‘hmmm, anything else?’
	‘got me some cousins!’
	‘girls?’
	‘yeah, Debbie, Kathy, and Mary.’
	‘how old?’
	‘Debbie’s the oldest, she seventeen; Kathy’s fifteen, and Mary’s just turned fourteen—we have the same birthday!’
	‘do anything with them?’
	‘we go to Big Ed’s Big Ass Amusement Park!’
	‘hmmm I mean, do you see them naked?  fool around naughty like?’
	‘aw, naw, I’d get killed.’
	‘do you WANT to—fool around with them?’
	‘yeah, kinda.’
	‘got a girlfriend?’
	‘not really, a couple of girls—an-and Goadee’s girl—she likes me!’
	‘would you like to fool with her—naughty like?’
	‘yeah!’
	‘Done!’
	Suddenly there was a new power surge in the young Bo Ceaphus and he slung his oppressors off of him.  Goadee stood still in some bewilderment while his comrades went flinging.  Bo stood up, bleeding, seriously in peril with the cut cheek, kicked in ribs, and generally roughed up—and watched as bully flunkies Frank Crestsea, Travis Fogbee, and Yancy Tucker, all thirteen, stood up and began shucking their clothes.
	Once naked and standing by their leader—
	‘on your knees—suck his dick.’
	The eyes of Kelly Goadee widened.  He grabbed his stomach and retched.  The boy looked around crazy eyed shaking his head; he looked to his mates and then to Bo and made a face like “did you say that?”
	‘on—your—knees!’
	Kelly Goadee struggled—it felt like a great weight was on his shoulders pushing him down.  It was better to give in—so he did.  Then, once on his knees the message in his head repeated—
	‘suck—his—dick.’
	Goadee looked to Bo and was almost pleading.  There was high confusion.
	‘just stand still.’ a voice said to Bo.
	That was easier said than done; he needed medical attention.
	
	Blowing his mind—Bo watched as bully leader Goadee “blew” his dick.
	Bo wasn’t “gay” by any means, not even curious.  He was just barely curious about girls.  Bo liked to fish, climb things, do things boys liked to do (other than messing with girls).  He DID admire girls; they were pretty, nice butts, and it felt good to be around them.  But video gaming, fishing, climbing things, those things took precedent.
	Regardless, getting sucked on felt good.  He had no idea.
	‘turn yourself around.’
	Confused, Bo turned himself around, bent over, and spread his cheeks.
	A horrified bully leader felt overly compelled to “lick” butthole.
	Bo’s butthole.
	Goadee began to cry.  No matter how hard he fought to resist licking Bo’s cornhole he couldn’t.  And the flunkies flanking him were mystified to the point where they couldn’t intervene—even if they wanted to.  They stood gawking in awe watching as their leader  once finished licking Bo’s asshole “turned around”, on hands and knees and…
	Partook of flunky Frank’s cock.

	Frank was speechless and stood watching as a crying/sniveling Goadee suck-suck-sucked him.  And though he didn’t want to—he got stiff.  And though Travis and Yancy were blown away watching their leader sucking dick they were more blown by watching as Bo stepped up with a rock hard boner and plunge it into Goadee’s ass!
	“HOLY SHIT!” blurt Travis.
	The other boys were too dumbstruck to utter word one.

	Bo ass mastered Goadee’s ass for several minutes; he didn’t cum but that wasn’t the point.  When exhausted he stood back and when Goadee had sucked his fill of Frank’s pud—Frank came around and rammed himself into Goadee’s fresh fucked hole.  Travis then was sucked on and when HE was finished he went sailing his cock into Goadee’s hole—and came off therein!
	Yancy came off in Goadee’s mouth!
	As Goadee wept openly, his manliness declining rapidly, Frank Crestsea returned to his face, turned about and “bent over.” Try-try-try as he might Goadee could not stop himself from licking Frank’s hole.
	“NOOOOOO!” he screamed but superior force seemingly held his head pushing him to the tarnished cheeks of the thirteen year old.
	Travis and Yancy followed.
	But just as he was about to flick his tongue to Yancy—something happened.
	The “force” that had been forcing the boys to act was suddenly gone.
	The rage that had been extinguished in Goadee suddenly reignited.  The boy with fucked up hair, fucked up eyes, fucked up the ass, flung himself up from the ground and whirled on Bo.
	Bo needed know unseen Voice encouragement he knew what to do—
	RUN!
	And run naked, too!
	Kelly was quick to follow with Frank and Travis tripping over each other and Yancy.  They ran hard yelling and screaming thru the thick grove of trees making for farmland on the other side.
	Meanwhile, the “voice” Nog flung his head withering in anguish and discomfort.  All had been going well—until stung by a bee!  Nog did not like bee stings!  He wasn’t allergic but the area of the sting was tremendous—especially for his diminutive size—3’6 (roughly 1.10meters).
	From his tobacco pouch he got a pinch of contents, wadded it in his mouth then applied it to the sting on his neck.  He cursed his luck then filled the bowl of his pipe, snickered, farted, and enjoyed a good puff.
	The stench of the eucalyptus wasn’t enough to overpower the stench of Nog’s pipe.  His eyes glazed over and the ways of the world disappeared.
	A mixture of this, a pinch of that, some sprinkling of something extra and Nog Nuahcerpel was a happy little guy!  He was well on his way to getting stoned when—
	A scream reverberated thru the groove.

	Bo looked up as Frank and the other flunky lackeys raced up panting out of breath.  They looked upon their leader curled up on the ground gasping for breath; blood bubbles had formed in his mouth and he slowly began to twitch.  Embedded in his stomach was an axe, an old wood chopping axe.
	Seeing that Bo was outrunning him, Goadee grabbed up an axe that was in a tree stump.  But as he ran to try and throw the axe at Bo, he tripped over an uprooted tree root and tripped—falling on the axe.
	“He tripped!” breathed hard Bo.
	Frank and the others weren’t sure what had happened but took Bo’s word.
	“Let’s go get our clothes.” Travis said still panting for breath.
	The three bully boys turned and left; no fight, no pursuit left in them.
	Bo, some six feet from Goadee, knelt and watched as life left the crumbled up bully.  After the last gurgle of breath from Goadee, Bo offered a little prayer,
	“Yay though I walk thru the valley…” that one.
	Afterwards he sauntered back to where it all began to collect his own clothes.  Frank and the others had already gotten there, dressed, and were gone.  Bo dressed and slumped on a stump (a skunk sat on a stump, the stump thought the skunk stunk; the skunk thought the stump stunk; together, they both stunk!)

	Bo didn’t know if Goadee’s flunkies would report to anyone about what happened—the death of Goadee.  Or if they would try to pin the blame on him!  He thought of that and it worried him.  With a sigh he decided to deal with it as it came.  The “other stuff” that happened—the sucking and licking (and butt fucking) thrashed about in his mind thoroughly confusing him.
	Did it happen?
	How did it happen?
	He couldn’t believe Kelly Goadee sucked his dick.
	He couldn’t believe Kelly Goadee so willingly licked his asshole!
	He couldn’t believe he himself so willing fucked Goadee’s ass!
	Way too confusing.
	On his way home he passed by the soda delivery truck parked outside the small general store in his small home town.  It sure was hot out!  Of course, the sodas on the lee side of the truck would be “warm”, too—but fuck it!  Knowing that the driver was inside delivering goods he helped himself and casually walked on.
	At the corner of Dwight and Stone he paused at the dingy white picket fence.  Roses aplenty lined the perimeter of the yard; the house of blue needed a painting, the columns supporting the porch roof needed replacing; the yard needed mowing, an overflowing garbage can at the side entrance/kitchen door needed carried out to the curb, the spring in the detached garage door had sprung and needed replacing, this and that and that and this.  Chores.
	Bo’s chores.
	The truck in drive told Bo his Pa was home—half day at the mill.
	It was possible, as usual, that his Pa was probably asleep—passed out on the sofa.  Bo wanted to take a bath (to try and wash out the images of what had happened with Goadee.)  The soda he had “acquired” wasn’t so good being room temperature, so a cold drink from the fridge would just thing.  Maybe there were some potato chips left over or a snack cake!
	Front door?
	No, not a good option.  Pa would hear the door for sure—it squeaked.
	Side door?  The kitchen door?  Naw, it squeaked, too.  Besides, it was as bad as opening the front door—the trek thru the kitchen emptied into the living room and it was doubtful that he could sneak passed his Pa—passed out or not.  He had tried too many times.
	So, the only other option—his bedroom window.
	Just as he had a leg in—
	“What the fuck you doin’, boy?”
	Pa.
	He was drunk, pissed, and wielding a belt.
	Bo felt the sudden urge to flee—and he could have (and probably should have) but his domineering Pa ordered him—
	“Git yer fuckin’ ass over ‘ere!”
	Bo almost instantly cried.  “No, Pa!” he wailed.
	Bo’s Pa, Jessup, although drunk, raced across the messy boy’s room grabbing his son by the arm and throwing him to the floor.
	“BOY!” he said drunkenly, “DON’T YOU FUCKIN’ SAY NO TO ME!” and brought the belt onto his stricken son several times before wrenching him to his bed.  As he began wrenching on his son’s pants,
	“Git your fuckin’ britches down!”
	Bo was too frightened to overly comply but fussed with the button to his pants.  His Pa landed a reign of swats to Bo’s ass and back of his legs.  Bo wailed and thrashed about, Jessup got his son’s underwear down and began a new round of belting.
	At length the man wore out and belted out a slur of obscenities along with telling his son to get the trash out, mow the yard, shit like that.
	Bo mouthed something like “FUCK YOU!” as he crawled into his closet.
	Luckily for him and his Pa hadn’t heard the statement.
	Sometime later and Bo crawled out of his closet; it was early evening.  He smelled the aroma of a familiar scent—chili!  His Pa was making his famous chili for his mill worker/redneck friends.  It was too hot to handle for Bo who didn’t like overly spicy foods—chili among them.  His ass and legs still reeled from the beating.
	In the kitchen he found the huge chili pot boiling.  No Pa.
	Bathroom door was open—no Pa.
	Living room?  Nope, not there, either.
	Hmmm  Peeking out the backdoor—no Pa out in the backyard but there was a bit of smoke wafting up from the deep pit barbeque hole.  A hefty hunk of meat was in the hole, wrapped in burlap.  Seeing no Pa around—Bo pissed on it.  then—
	Back in the house he grabbed a soda and downed it, belched loudly and farted just as much.  The need to poop was upon him—but half way to the bathroom he paused, turned around, took the boiling pot of chili off the stove and crapped in it.
	Using the big spoon he stirred the turd making sure it was well blended.
	Then he added some more spices, a little piss, and hocked a loogie in it, too!
	He found his Pa passed out on the front lawn in the overgrown grass and weeds.  Turning the fire down on the chili (the pot with extra added ingredients returned to its rightful place) the boy slipped out the backdoor.  The stuff that had happened in the woods earlier was slowly ebbing away.  Slowly.
	Next door he noted Mark Heely’s car in the alley.  He wasn’t alone.  There was Becky Konner in the backseat with him—making out.  Heavy handed petting, deep back-of-the-throat tongue lashing, and—and—AND ahhhh, bare titties!
	And cock.
	Mark had Becky’s top off (there was no bra) and his hands groped heavily the seventeen year old’s titties.  Glorious titties they were, too.  Ripe, full, teenage.  Sex was imminent.  In Becky’s hand was Mark’s schlong.  He was a year older, high school drop-out, motorcycle enthusiast, long black hair, leather jacket, a parent’s worst nightmare.
	Bo had a hell of a time getting into prime position; on his Pa’s nearly falling in garden shed.  The backyard was a mess of dead trees, grass, lawn mower, a used to be thriving garden, general redneck unkempt backyard.
	By the time Bo got into position—Becky was naked.  Sex was in progress, too.  Mark was naked and the passion was heating up.  The angle of the dangle was bad for Bo—he couldn’t rightly see the “penetration.”  He got a hard-on just the same, though.
	Moving to a better more prime position was a bad idea—he fell thru the crappy weathered fucked up roof.  The crash was noisy but didn’t seem to bother the lovers in the car.  Bo hit the dirt floor (where a wooden floor used to be) narrowly missing the spilled box of nails, broken glass from his Pa’s beer bottle collection for recycling, and a shovel with a rusty edge.
	“Shit!  Piss!  Motherfucker!” he bitched.  Slowly he scrambled up clipping the shelf that held his mother’s urn.  Yeah, that one.  The urn, porcelain, toppled and hit the ground shattering.
	“FUCK!” he yelled.  That was grounds for a killin’.  His Pa was gonna kill him good!  For a long-long moment he stared at the scattered ashes.  On one hand, it creeped him out.  After receiving the ashes in the urn from the funeral parlor his Pa had said that that was all a person was—ashes.  A couple of pounds after all said and done.
	It creeped Bo out.
	The urn had been in the house for awhile but it also creeped Bo’s Pa out so out into the shed it went where it had been for three years.  Bo’s Pa seldom (if ever) came out to the shed.  There twernt nothin’ in the shed worth a shit, nothing usuable anyways.  Still, though…
	Picking up the pieces he dumped the broken urn into a box shoving the box under a pile of other boxes.  Then he squatted before the scattered ashes.  A minute elapsed.  Then another.  Another.  And then…
	Seeing the small fireplace shovel he gathered the ashes and some dirt and dumped them onto the smoking meat in the deep pit smoke pit.
	“Sorry, Ma.” he said with a shrug.

	Becky and Mark were gone; Bo didn’t know where they had gone to.
	Pissed him off.  He moved into the alley and peeked into the car—no Becky, no Mark, nothing.  Darkness was starting to come on; the oppressive heat of the day had begun to wane.  Thinking maybe the two lovers had gone to their own garden shed—which was a sight better than his own, Bo snuck to the lee side where there was a bit of space between the houses.
	He didn’t find Mark or Becky—he found, instead, Becky’s younger sister, Darlene.  And SHE was making out not with her boyfriend, brother of Mark, but the next door neighbor—Shawna!
	Awesome!
	Bo was intrigued and watched as the two fifteen year olds kissed, pawed one another and then began fingering.  Bo hadn’t seen anything like that before.  They were heavy into their kissing—and Bo was heavy into wanking!
	Soon and the girls had their hands inside the other’s pants!
	Soon and the girls had their clothes off.
	That was when Darlene’s daddy stepped out onto the back porch looking around.  Bo was interested in the goings on of Darlene and Shawna but closely watched Mr. Konner as he stepped OFF the back porch looking around more determinately.  He never said a word—he was itching to catch someone doing something.
	No idea had Bo where Becky or Mark were hiding fucking probably their brains out but Darlene and Shawna were more apt to being caught.
	“PSSST!” he whispered earnestly.
	The girls looked to Bo who waved and then pointed to the menacing hulk that was Darlene’s dad who was a big-big six foot four inch tall man with a big girth and a lot of pissedoffedness.
	The girls were in panic—if they moved they would be seen.
	Bo to the rescue.  He was in a position where he could slink back into the alley.  So he did—and collided with the trash cans making a lot of racket.  He got Mr. Konner’s attention.
	“What the hell?”
	“Hi—Mr. K, I-I tripped.” Bo said picking up the scattered trash.
	Mr. Konner glared at the boy but wasn’t pissed as the boy was picking up what he spilled.
	“You seen Becky or Darlene?” he asked.
	“Uh, no, sir, I was jest comin’ home.”
	“Yer Pa gonna tan you!” scoffed the man.
	‘asshole already has!’ “He’s passed out on the front lawn.”
	Mr. K nodded, shrugged, farted, got a whiff of the deep-pit,
	“Yer Pa’s got somethin’ cookin’?”
	“Yes, sir, he does,” bla-bla-bla-bla…
	Bo finished pickin’ up the trash and made for his backyard gate.
	(how’d he know his Pa was passed out in the front yard if’in he was jest comin’ home thru the alley?) oh well…redneck intuition I guess.
	Mr. Konner returned to his home and Bo slinked back to where he had last seen Darlene and Shawna.
	“Pssst!” said Darlene, “Over here.”
	Shawna was gone but a relieved and thankful Darlene was at the rickety fence behind the hulking remains of an unfinished car project.
	“Thanks.” she said with a shrug.
	Darkness was coming on; marijuana smoke filled the air along with the scent of barbeques, car engine smells, and other assorted redneck air.
	“You saved my ass.”
	Bo was sheepish and embarrassed.
	“No problem.”
	“Have you seen Becky?” she asked.
	Bo smiled; his face was gritty, his hazel blue, needed a haircut badly, a change of clothes, a bath, better schooling, better parenting, but he had a good heart.
	“Yeah, she and Mark were—were—uh, well, they were in his car.”
	Slight pause.
	“Did you see what they were doing?”
	Giggle, “Yeah.” pause  “Same as you and Shawna.”
	Darlene pursed her lips.
	“Guess it was a good show, huh?” Darlene kind of made levity.
	“Seemed so.”
	A strong scent of marijuana filled the air.
	“Damn, somebody’s havin’ a party.” Darlene quipped.
	“Do you smoke it?”
	“Sometimes.” Darlene said.
	Pause; “Yer dad’s lookin’ for you, you’d better show.”
	Darlene nodded and slipped thru the fence; just as she was thru she looked back whispering again, “Thanks.”
	“Any time.”
	“I gotta go make an appearance,” Darlene said hanging her head back thru the fence, “but later on, if you want, we can hang out—if you want.”
	Bo was cool with that, he was pretty sure he’d be free.
	There was a pretty good rapport between Darlene and Bo; she never cussed him or put him down; she most always gave him a friendly smile.  She had a thick head of thick soft jet black hair—matching coal black eyes drew him into her soul.  Her smile; her eyes; yeah, those things stood out—but not as much as her butt naked with her neighbor friend!
	Seeing his Pa up and about fucking with his deep-pit and his drunk redneck friends pissing all over the backyard, Bo kept away.  Not having a lot friends Bo sought other venues to keep his interest and “out of sight.”
	
Who’s dat sneakin’ in your neighborhood; you know—it’s Bo!
	From Bo’s house he went to the end of the alley; past Mark’s car and still no sign of the lovers, then right out of the alley to the next street and its alley.  In about the middle of the alley he crawled thru a wooden fence slipping up alongside a long 1960s trailer.  Standing on some cinderblocks, tires, and an apple crate he peeked into the bedroom of a one Kayleen Renior.  Usually he caught the girl as she pranced about her bedroom in her panties—sometimes naked!
	She was twelve, very dark hair that was long and usually tied in a single tight braided ponytail that just touched her butt crack.
	She was a nice girl, she knew him, acknowledged his existence on the earth, and he had heard her fart once while standing behind her at the school lunch line.  On this visit there was turmoil—
	Kayleen was partially naked, laying across her grandpa’s knees of whom she lived with.  Her pants and panties were at her knees and he was swatting her ass but good!  The usually lily white skin of the ass was already a brilliant bright red.  The girl squirmed and kicked and was very much in discomfort.  What she had done to deserve such treatment—Bo had no idea.
	At length and the girl was stood, shaken at the shoulders and admonished for something she had done—or not done.  The girl wailed, rubbed her ass, and stamped her feet.  It seemed as though she bitched back or something ‘cause her grandpa looked enraged.  He stood up and unhitched his pants pulling out his belt.
	Kayleen freaked out and darted for the door; but trying to pull up her pants and panties and “dart” fouled her up and her enraged-enraged grandpa grabbed her by the elbow jerking her to her bed.  The room was a-clutter with clothes, stuffed toy animals, books, papers, balls (sports related) and shit like that.  Grandpa Homer yanked Kayleen’s ankles up, locking them in his powerful hands (former lumberjack) and commenced to wailing on her already blistered ass.
	To Bo, he was both frightened for the girl as well as finding himself kinda sorta turned on.  Whipping out his dick he watched in awe as the girl was whipped until—until Homer whipped out HIS dick.  It was long, hard, and “ready.”
	Bo could just hear “DO YOU WANT MORE!?” to wit the frightened girl could only shake her head NO in response.  Kayleen seemed trained; in not wanting to be beaten any further she slid off the bed to her knees.  She then took her grandpa’s cock and proceeded to suck-suck-suck it.  She did!
	Bo was steadily pleasing himself; but more was to cum.
	After only a few bobs up and down the girl returned to her bed.  Homer fingered her pussy.  Kayleen parted her legs then pulled them back.  Homer caressed her chest, fondled her small supple breasts, then put his knees to the side of the bed and put his cock against her cunny.
	The window wasn’t too clean and the angle was too good preventing the spy Bo from seeing the best part without giving himself away.  He wasn’t sure if Homer was in the girl’s pussy or her asshole.  Not until after several minutes and the grandpa pulled out and Bo could just see the milky white stuff oozing from the girl’s shit hole.
	Bo shot his load then ducked down as the ass beating/butt fucking grandpa stepped back masturbating ejaculating the remainder of his grandpa jiz onto his granddaughter’s cunt.  He then left the room and Kayleen lay fingering her pussy and crying.  Bo sighed and slipped away to the next spy.

The next spy
	Bo wasn’t much of a “church” person, not overly religious.  No way—no how.  But he liked church for one specific reason and one specific reason only.  Girls.  Pretty girls were at the church.  Many of those girls wore dresses—about the only time that they did.  Made Bo’s heart flutter when he saw them, smelled their perfume; made him dizzy!
	Knowing that when his Pa would take sick—along with his friends, from noshing on the extra added ingredient chili he’d get blamed he felt the need to touch basis with the local preacher.  “If every you need help, a place to hang out while we sort something out…” bla-bla-bla he could seek refuge at the preacher’s.  The preacher was well aware of Bo’s abusive dad.
	The preacher and his family lived on the church property in a separate home from the church building.  There were lights on in both buildings.  It was Saturday so there was no church service but maybe the preacher was gearing up for the Sunday morning’s service.
	Good, then maybe he would be alone.
	No, he wasn’t.
	Bo figured the front double doors would be locked so he went to the side kitchen door.  He wasn’t prepared for what he saw in the preacher’s office.  He was drawn there by sounds—familiar and otherwise.
	All five of the preacher’s children were within the preacher’s office.
	All five of the preacher’s children were naked.
	So was the preacher!
	The youngest of the preacher’s daughters, Carol Anne, was laying (naked) across her preacher daddy’s lap.  He was striking her (but not hard.)  Her ass flesh had turned a slight shade of red but the girl didn’t seem upset.  She was, though, in fact, suck the schlong of her brother two years older than she.  Carol Anne herself was merely ten.
	On the sofa was the oldest of the preacher’s children, Sonny.  And Sonny was being sucked on by the eldest of the preacher’s daughters, Maggie.  Meanwhile, sitting beside them was the next daughter, fifteen year old Lisa.  Both Sonny and Maggie fingered her and the whole thing was a mind blowing experience for Bo.
	All the preacher’s kids had raven dark hair.  Maggie had super long raven dark hair, green eyes, and a long-long body and a very nice ass.  She had a sweet smile and seemed to be very talented in giving her brother a blowjob.  Middle girl, Lisa, had a nice rack, was more serious, very pretty, green eyes, and not a lot of fuzz on her snatch.  She undulated her entire body as she was fingered to the point where she could no longer hold off and she slid her body onto her brother and slid down his very-very erect cock.  The fuck was on.
	Maggie blushed, giggled, and fondled her sister’s ass, spanked it, fingered her asshole, and went down between the girl’s cheeks supposedly licking her asshole—but she was licking her brother’s cum laden tool as well as sucking on his flopping ball sac.
	The boy getting sucked on by Carol Anne—came.  A most generous load of spunk splashed into the girl’s mouth and he was greatly relieved.  Carol Anne didn’t seem despondent about the sticky-icky milky white substance exploding into her mouth coating her still intact tonsils.  In fact, she grinned and sucked him even more!
	The preacher smacked his cock sucking daughter’s ass but was eyeing the others focusing on Maggie.  The two locked eyes and the girl, being in a bad way, made her way to her father.  Carol Anne stood up, rubbed her butt, giggled-giggled-giggled and watched as her sister settled onto their preacher daddy’s lap taking his rock hard hard-on.  With his hands clamped tenaciously to her lovely teenage butt “the fuck” was on.
	Cole still had a magnificent hard-on his own self; sperm still ejaculated from the piss slit and sister Carol Anne was still giggling.  The girl went around her preacher daddy’s desk then went to the drab sand colored sofa where Maggie sat fingering herself to beat all and was grinning big.  Lisa and Sonny were locked in an immortal fuck to beat all.
	As Carol Anne plopped herself down on the seat cushion, spread her legs, and twelve year old Cole entered her, sixteen year old Maggie came to plop herself onto her preacher daddy.  A new fuck was on.
	Bo had enough.  He wasn’t a religious fellow but was pretty that the preacher and his family were not so religious, either.  He slinked away to the next adventure.

Well, fancy finding you laying there…
	He didn’t think it was safe to trek home but maybe he could slip into his room, grab some clothes and fishing pole and head out somewhere.  Being sneaky he came along the alleyway and slipping this way and that in the near pitch darkness he stumbled across something.
	Someone.
	The someone grunted then groaned.
	Bo’s eyes adjusted sufficiently that when squatting down he could determine that it was Darlene’s sister, Becky.  Passed out drunk.  Where her boyfriend Mark was he had no idea.
	Oh, and she was naked.
	Tossing a pebble to Darlene’s bedroom window he got her attention.

	It was just after 10PM, kinda dark, Friday night in redneckville, she was still up for sure.  Darlene came to the window—after Bo had almost cracked it and was ready to heave a boulder up.
	“What the fuck?” the girl with seriously kinky hair—and lots of it.
	“Becky’s down here,” he said hoarsely, “passed out!”
	Darlene nodded and made her way to him sneaking partly down the stairs until she found her dad equally passed out on the living room sofa.  Still, she had to be careful.  He was a big man; owned operated a motorcycle business, owned/operated a motorcycle, owned/operated a handgun, shotgun, rifle…
	Darlene squatted by her passed out sister shaking her head.
	“Whattya gonna do?” Bo asked.
	Darlene wasn’t too sure, sneaking into the house and to her room was going to be a neat trick.
	“Where are her clothes?” Darlene asked.
	Bo had no idea.
	Darlene shook her head again then rolled her naked sibling over.
	“You’re dad sees her like this he’ll go ballistic.”
	“No shit.” Darlene said flatly and matter-of.
	For no other reason than “just because” or maybe to see if she could get a rise out of her naked passed out sibling—Darlene smacked her bare ass.
	Bo giggled.
	Darlene smacked the bare naked ass again.
	Bo already had a boner and he not so slyly gouged the heel of his hand to it.
	Darlene saw.
	With a snicker “You wanna fuck her?”
	Bo looked dead into the girl’s eyes, “You say what?”
	“Not like she’s gonna know!” Darlene said pushing her well passed out sister back onto her back.  She then spanked her sister’s probably well fucked cunt.
	Bo held fast for a moment—then; ‘you don’t get an opportunity like this everyday, Bo!’ and he quickly shucked off his pants.
	Becky made no noises or any other indication of awareness.
	Bo emptied his mind of the day’s events—Goadee the bully and his bully gang, his Pa whipping him, watching the preacher and his kids fuck.  He slammed his cock into Becky’s cunt and just fucked his brains out.  It was way better than he expected.  It was better than his hand, better than fucking Goadee’s ass, better than his bed, better than he could imagine—ever!
	And whilst he humped the unconscious Becky, her sister Darlene rubbed his ass!  She fingered herself, too!  Whilst he fucked the unconscious Becky her sister undone her pants and “got busy!”

	Fucking pussy was way better than fucking asshole—or mouth.  He blew his wad, strained hard, strained harder, pumped harder, and finally, finally expelled ALL his love juices before pulling out.  And even then he blew a little more wad before totally exhausted and laying off to one side of the girl (opposite Darlene.)
	“Was it good for you?” Darlene asked.
	Bo chuckled but couldn’t formulate words or any expression.
	Darlene then slipped off her pants, panties, shirt, and bra.  Bo remained exhausted but fondling his cock (and unaware of what Darlene had done.)  Suddenly, there was Darlene squatting onto her sister’s face!  She was!  Bo didn’t know; maybe it was some bizarre ritualistic thing between sisters.  Darlene gouged her cunt onto Becky’s face, then—THEN turned around—and laid down her body LICKING BECKY’S CUNT!
	LICKING BECKY’S CUNT WHERE BO’S COCK HAD JUST BEEN AND CREAMED THEREON AND THEREIN!
	Talk about a mind blower!
	Bo then so noted Darlene’s ass—the moonlight kind of illuminated the ass and Bo found himself caressing it—as she had done so unto him.  The simple act enthused him and he got a fresh boner.  Darlene reached over and took holt of the fresh boner and pleased him so.  Giggling, the kinky girl moved off of her sister to squash Bo’s dick with her hairless cunt.
	HER HAILESS CUNT!
	Bo didn’t know such things about pubes; he knew he had them but not a lot of coverage.  He didn’t know about girls and their pubes.  He didn’t know much about girls at all—but he was learning!
	Darlene moved her cunt up and down the length of his cock.  Reaching around herself she fondled his balls—kinda hard but tolerable.  The  weird girl then laid down on him, raised herself up just so, then purposely guided his fresh boner into her hairless cunt.  The new fuck was on.
	The new fuck was just as good as the old fuck.  Bo felt his cock surging.  There were new feelings, new sensations he didn’t know of; they were thriving in him causing him to shudder and tremble.  Clutching the girl’s ass he entered into a new realm of sexual pleasure.
	Bo Ceaphus came like he had never came before.  There was more shuddering, more trembling, more catatonic fitting than ever!  And it felt good, too!  The act drained him.  He lay in the tall unkempt grass staring up to the clear skies totally frapped.  Darlene lay on him for a moment, then eased off of him to return to her sister whereupon she once more sat on the girl’s unconscious face and—and—and PEED!
	Kinda kinky.  Kinda weird.  Kinda deep issues.

*

	Euphoria brought him to a magical land where he engaged in sex acts with Becky and Darlene over and over and over—and for some reason there was Goadee in the mix and Bo was once more butt fucking him!  OH!  What a way to wake up.
	It was still dark, cool, the scent of marijuana still prevalent in the sullen air, Becky Konner still naked beside him.  A bit of fright befell him as he thought how bad it would have been should the girl’s father find him laying there with her.  That wouldn’t be good.  No, not good at all!
	It had to be around midnight or so.  Sitting up and Bo found himself with a boner—still or from the dream he had just had?  Well, there was a naked unconscious girl beside him—and he had a new-new fresh boner.  No need to waste that!
	So he didn’t.
	It was a good fuck but not as dramatic as the first time.  Such as life.
	He blew his nut, pulled out and blew more.  He thought about poking her asshole but lacked the proper energy to move her into such a position as he could.  He never-ever-ever thought that he would ever fuck Becky Konner.  Ever!
	Darlene.
	He thought he would never-ever-ever get her, either.  Ever!
	Where was she?
	There was a kitchen light on in the Konner house.  Sitting up he contemplated his next move.  Home?  Grab clothes, flip off his Pa, run like hell?  He was sure he would get blamed should anyone get sick from eatin’ his Pa chili and deep-pit shit.  Shit!  HA!  But, yeah, he’d get blamed.  His Pa was a wacko and would blame anything wrong on Bo.
	Standing up and stretching, farting—he had to pee.
	He peed on Becky’s pussy.
	In the alley on his way to his home he saw and heard Mark’s car making that “teenagers in the backseat fucking” indication.  Spying and he saw that the teenagers were Darlene and Mark!
	Oh!
	Mark was on top—at first.  He was in a prone position, the primary position but then lay on the naked Darlene, deep sloppy kissing, lots of groping, squashing of bodies, arms and legs everywhere; then, they switched and Darlene was on top totally in command and control.
	And at one point she was raised up to where she noted Bo’s spying.
	She smiled and winked to him then mouthed “wait for me” and then went on to complete the fuck as planned.
	Bo slinked off to the side of the car—the other side where he could see the “action.”  There was Mark’s cock slamming up into Darlene’s cunt.  There was sufficient moonlight to just see the act.  Daringly and Bo slipped his hand inside the 2-door late model muscle car to caress Darlene’s sweaty ass almost getting caught as Mark’s hands went wild during the final moments of ecstasy.
	When “done”; Darlene clambered out of the car and Mark “pushed” his ride down the alley out of earshot when he fired it up so no one in particular would chance to hear it.
	“Becky still out?” Darlene asked.
	“Yeah, stone cold.”
	Darlene slipped on her pants and shirt stuffing her panties and bra into the pants pocket.
	“Can you help me get her in?”
	“In?”
	“In our house, in bed.” Darlene bitched at Bo’s dimwittedness.
	Bo was on a different track.  He shrugged, sure.
	“What about your dad?”
	“He has a cold,” Darlene explained, “he took some cold medicine that’s knocked him out.”
	Good, ‘cause if the big burly biker man should see Bo hefting his naked daughter sneakingly into the house—he’d be knocked out, too!
	Hefting the unconscious Becky into the Konner house was one of those “easier said than done” things.  Becky was almost dead weight.  She was a little lucid and right at the backdoor she became suddenly “aware.”  And instead of being confused or whatever, she giggled.
	And farted.
	And then peed.
	Darlene and Bo held her fast at the kind of dilapidated porch while she emptied her bladder.  Then it was scooting the teenager into the kitchen to the hallway that went right to a bathroom, straight into the living room, and left to the stairs UP.  On the sofa in the living room Mr. Konner snored.  Loudly.
	It was quite a chore moving Becky up the stairs and to her bed.  When she hit her bed she went instantly back to unconscious mode.  Bo and Darlene were exhausted.  Good thing that Mr. Konner was such a sound sleeper—on the way up the stairs there were numerous collisions with the walls.
	Getting weirder!
	“Wanna do her?” (again) Darlene asked.
	The twelve year old Bo was more than bewildered.  He wasn’t too wise about the wily ways of the wicked world regarding sex and morals but he had instinct that told him he really shouldn’t put his bone in an unconscious girl.
	But the voices in his head and the Devil on his shoulder kicked those morals to the curb and he got on top of the unconscious girl and proceeded to fuck her (again.)  And again, Darlene was there caressing his ass as he did so.  She also spanked him.
	“You dad really beats you.” she said in a low voice.
	Bo didn’t respond but enjoy shoving his fuck stick into Becky.
	Darlene ran her fingers over the welt marks on Bo’s backside and ass.
	As Bo continued on with the fuck, Darlene stripped off her clothes and sat on her sister’s face.  She did!  Her hairless cunt was right there—right there for Bo to enjoy.  And he did.  Instinctively he began licking it.  Darlene managed a balancing act squashing her sister’s face reeling as she was tongued out.
	It enthused Bo beyond belief.  And it was only afterwards did he realize “Hey, Mark’s cock had just been in there!” ewewe!
	After the fucking of Becky—the fucking of Darlene.
	A more than generous load of spunk was blasted into Becky’s cunt; pulling out and another generous splash squirted up her body.  Darlene leaned down and took Bo’s cock into her mouth and sucked the remaining juices.  Then, Darlene went to her own bed across the room, spread her legs, and beckoned the twelve year old.  He was lanky, ganky, lean, grimy ground in dirt skin, but had a nice-nice cock.
	Right as Bo was reaching his new nut off—
	STOMP!  STOMP! STOMP!
	Something BIG was coming up the stairs.
	Shit!  Piss!  Motherfucker!  Big daddy Dan!  Not good—no, definitely not good at all.  Darlene was cool, though, directing Bo to the side of the bed and hid partly underneath.  Just in time—the door opened.
	No knocking.  No asking if anyone was within—just open the door and look in (hoping to catch someone smoking, smoking something illegal, fucking, fingering, something that could warrant someone’s ass a beating.)
	Dan Konner saw his two teenage daughters—naked on their beds “sound to sleep.”  One was passed out dead drunk out cold but he didn’t know that.
	“Jesus!” he breathed.  He paused (lingered) for a long-long moment.
	Bo had to pee.
	Bo had to fart.
	The door closed (finally!) and Bo—farted.
	When the kids heard the bathroom shower downstairs going they knew it was safe.  Bo slipped on his clothes then slipped out the backdoor making for home just as the sun was rising.

It gets deeper the further you go in
	Finding his Pa not home Bo felt comfortable enough to take a quick shower.
	The truck was gone so maybe he went to work?  It was Saturday—soooo, only if the mill was short of hands or something.  It would be overtime and that would be good.  But it was Saturday and Bo’s Pa didn’t like to work on Saturdays, or Mondays, or Tuesdays, or Wednesdays…
	For some reason he was tired, Bo was.  His dick ached.  The thoughts of Goadee were a fading memory.  The thoughts of Darlene and Becky—a vivid memory.  Thought of the preacher and his family—also vivid.  Into his closet he went (taking his trusty shotgun with him; if the bastard (Pa) should open the door aiming to whip him—Bo was going to blow him to hell.)
	Sleep came to him and he fell into it easily enough.  He awoke, though, with a startle—I hate that.  He gripped the shotgun anticipating his Pa throwing open the door, wielding his belt, yelling at him to get across his bed.
	But there was no Pa.
	He waited.
	He listened.
	Nothing.
	The need to pee and hungry pulled him out of the closet.
	Peeking into the living room—no Pa.
	In the bedroom—no Pa.
	Curious.
	Bo did his business in the bathroom then grabbed some lunch before heading out the backdoor.  It was noon type time; a crisp clear day, the stench of marijuana was replaced by stinkweed, ragweed, mint, wild catnip, and roses.  Next door and the Konner truck was gone so that would be Mr. Konner.  Was Becky still passed out in her bed?  Where was Darlene?
	Peeking over the fences and no Mark or his car.
	There was, though, the Konner girls’ little brother, James David (JD).
	He was eleven, dark hair in a “bowl/Mo” configuration, baby cheeks, and “sneaking” into the backyard garden shed with a friend.  A girlfriend.  Stephanie Lakeisdank.  She was eleven (but looked ten!)  short bouncy blond hair, blue eyes, sharp little body, usually wore short skirts.  Very-very nice ass.  Even when she was a bit younger and Bo noticed her—dat ass!
	Anyways, Bo slinked into the Konner backyard via that loose fence board and watched just as JD was pushing down his pants (no undies.)  The girl was all giddy, skirt off and panties dangling from one ankle as she sat on a defunct old 1940s style soda freezer.

	With her legs pushed back JD got busy (busy with the fuckin’!)  His little dick disappeared into the girl’s little cunt.  Bo clamped his lips tight as he had sudden thoughts of wanting to fuck that little something fierce.  JD pumped like a rapid dog, or rabbit.
	They were hard at it when JDs dad pulled into the drive.
	Like deer in the headlights—the kids froze.  Luckily, the garage was in the way and its backdoor was closed and luckily the garden shed’s door was partly closed, too.  Still…
	The coupling undone the couples flew into their clothes and disappeared among the crap stowed in the shed.  Bo simply ducked down into the tall grass hiding behind old lawnmowers and a 1930s wringer washer.
	A few minutes later and Dan’s truck fired up and left.
	Bo held fast for a moment or two then peeked to see if the coast was clear.
	It was.
	Back inside the shed and at first he couldn’t re-locate the kids if they were still there.  It was a risk but worth it; he slinked around the shed peering in from the door that never shut all the way.  On the floor, the dusty, dirty, grimy, filthy floor the two horndogs were hard at it again.  JD on top, the girl was naked, JDs pants were at his ankles.  Bo could just see the boy’s cock slamming in and out of the young girl’s pussy.  It thoroughly enthused him—thoroughly!
	After the boy got his nut they sat up giggling and then—
	“STEPHANIE!” the girl’s mother was calling for her.
	Shit.
	Stephanie flew into her clothes and slipped out of the shed and into the alley and to home some redneck homes away.  JD scrambled out and Bo watched him as he chatted to someone on his cell phone saying “Sure, no one’s home, come on over.”
	Bo wondered about Becky.  Was she alright?  He didn’t overly care—but he had fucked her!  He stayed put lest he give himself away as JD lingered in the backyard and was apt to see him if he should scamper even to the fence.
	His mind filled with the preacher’s family.
	He didn’t want to focus on Goadee and what happened to him.  It was an accident—Bo didn’t have anything to do with it—the fucker was chasing him.  It was his own fault.  He thought of fucking Darlene—and then Becky.  He thought of Maureen, Goadee’s proclaimed girl.  She didn’t tend to think same but was bullied herself into accepting Kelly’s ways.  Now, with the bully out of the way…
	Suddenly there was commotion—boys playing basketball.
	Bo remained where he was consumed with the past evening happenings.
	He wondered casually if he went to the preacher’s kids, the girls, and let them know that he knew; and in so doing if that would lead to him getting some.
	He figured there would be a catch or something.
	Or get his face slapped.
	He then realized that it was fairly quiet—no basketball slamming against the garage.  Peeking and he saw no boys.  Wait—he heard them, though.  They were close.  In the shed.  Peeking he saw the boys in the shed—pants down!  Oh!  This was interesting.  The boys were playing with each other—with each other’s schlongs!
	Homies!
	Then—then—the boy that had cum over, Ralph van Houseincreek, boyfriend of Stephanie, went to his knees and—and—sucked on JDs cock.  He did!  Bo was blown away.  He thought of Goadee’s flunkies sucking HIS dick.  The jury was still on whether or not he liked it.  He sort of did—but…
	A few bobs up and down and that was enough for ole Ralph.  He stood up and the boys engaged in a little cock fighting—bashing their puds together before embracing one another and ass grabbing—the other’s ass.  That was followed up by Ralph—TURNING AROUND, hands bracing on the soda freezer, and spread his legs wide.  OMG!
	JD slapped his cock against Ralph’s ass, gouged it up and down the crack, then pressed himself up against the boy’s ass before working it into the boy’s hole.  The fuck was on and Bo was blown.  He had no idea JD was gay.  But, wait, he had fucked a girl…soooo…hmmm  Bo was confused.  Can a guy like a girl and do a girl and like a guy and do a guy all at the same time?
	Apparently so.

	Right-right-right as JD was seriously into butt pounding his friend—daddy Dan came back home.  This time he drove all the way to the detached garage.  That was seriously close to the garden shed just behind.  The boys were too much into what they were doing—Ralph playing with his own dick as his ass was mastered and JD mastering that ass to realize their world was about to go black.
	“PSSST!” said Bo giving himself away, “Yer dad’s home!”
	The boys panicked—there was no escape.  One door, no windows.
	Bo himself barely had time to duck out of sight.  The boys were surely busted.  Daddy Dan came thru the garage and was on a mission—to find someone doing something and kill them.  Bo tensed up and was ready to bust thru the dilapidated fence and keep going to the next county.
	But there was no noise.  No killing type noise.  Daddy Dan got something from the shed then trekked back thru the garage, back to his truck and left.  Bo waited and watched as Ralph made himself scarce.  Then—
	“Where are you?  You still here?” JD.
	Bo scrambled up from the side of the shed, “Here.”
	“Thanks.” JD said.  He was grateful for the signal.
	Bo shrugged.
	“Soooo, whad did you see?”
	“Enough.” and there was a grin to go with that.
	JD was serious—for a moment.  He didn’t like getting busted but since it was Bo who seemed to be ok with it.
	“You like ‘em both ways, huh?” Bo said.
	“Huh?”
	“Girls, guys?”
	JD shrugged back, “I guess.”
	Bo rubbed his still aching cock.  Looking around for anyone else to come on them he boldly hauled his fuck stick out letting JD have a good long look.
	“Wanna play?” Bo asked.  He knew it was “gay” but it didn’t seem gay.
	JD went back into the shed; Bo followed.

	Inside the shed and the boys shucked their clothes, waggled their cocks then got into a cock fight of their own.  JD’s eyes were focused on Bo’s schlong.  It was bigger—but not really by much.
	“You can suck it, if you want.” Bo said.
	JD was kind of unsure.
	“I’ll suck yours.” It was out of his mouth before he could stop himself.
	JD shrugged, “Ok.” and went to his knees putting his lips to Bo’s cock.
	No denying—it DID feel good.  It was better, though admittedly, in a girl’s pussy.  Admittedly.
	JD was strangely pretty good at cock sucking.  And Bo was strangely ok with it; it felt good.  He deduced that because it was probably kinda/sorta “wrong” to get a BJ from the boy like JD it made the act better.
	After a couple of minutes the boy pulled back, smacked his lips, and was grinning sheepishly big time.  He liked it!
	“Wanna fuck my ass?” JD asked in a boyish manner.
	Wow.
	Bo shrugged saying “Ok.” and JD stood up, turned himself about, and presented his boyish ass.  Bo gouged his cock up and down the lad’s crack.  JD pulled his cheeks open and Bo made anal entry.  The butt fuck was intense.  Their balls flopped, skin slapped, skin sweated—the whole bit.  Ramming his rod into a guy’s a-hole was an experience that mystified the young Bo.  Sure, a girl’s hole would be better, her pussy the extreme better.  But, a hole was a hole was a hole regardless of whose hole it belonged to.
	Bo went on to fuck JD until completion—until cumming.  Then they had to hide when JD’s dad and sisters came home.  Not good—not good at all.