August Moone
Book 9
Chapter 50
The Agony and the Ecstasy II

School daze in the desert continued

Gina
	While having a sleepover at her house, Gina Weed had a discovery.
	Actually, it was Gina’s friend, Wendy, who made the discovery.
	In the bathroom.
	For some reason, Wendy decided to take off her watch while she peed.  And naturally she fumbled and dropped it.  After business was concluded she searched for her dropped watch making the discovery aforementioned.  A small little red light inside the wire mesh netting behind the toilet.
	Wendy, like most kids, didn’t pay much attention to news but occasionally she caught some—like the business of Peeping Tom’s using sophisticated videoing of unsuspecting peoples (usually young) in bathrooms, private and otherwise.  She confronted Gina who went deathly ashen.
	“Oh My God!” she was horrified.  Then, “I wonder who?”
	Wendy rolled her eyes; other than Gina and her mother there were her father and little brother.  The list of possible candidates was thin.  In the bathroom Wendy showed Gina the little red light.  Gina’s dad was at work but he still could access the thingamajig via his computer table or cell phone at any time he wanted.
	Squatting down and Gina stared and stared; there was no way her little dweeb brother could be responsible.
	“Should I move it?” Gina wondered aloud.
	“No,” Wendy said, “he’ll know that you know—that could be complicated.”
	“I guess tell my mom, huh?”
	Wendy thought thoughtfully and shook her head, “I don’t think so, you mom and dad have been fighting a lot, right?”
	“Yeah.” And?
	“Telling your mom about this and they’ll fight even more.” just when the fighting was calming down.
	“Well if I cant tell my mom—what should I do?”
	Wendy mused, “You know, this could be to your advantage.”
	“How?”
	“Your dad just got a raise at work, right?”
	“Yeah.” And/so?
	“Well, let him know that YOU know about this spy thing in the bathroom.”
	And?
	“And you’re ok with that—so long as you get a bit of his raise in your allowance.”
	Gina had to let that sink in; then—
	“Oooooh!” she brightened up.
	A knock at the door interrupted the girls’ jubilation.
	“You guys going to be in there all night?” asked another sleepover friend.
	Gina and Wendy returned to Gina’s bedroom.  Regardless of the possible bump in allowance the “spy in the bathroom” still creeped her out.  She didn’t know exactly why the spy was there or what could it see—Wendy explained that it was a video camera to see a person taking the clothes (panties) down to use the toilet.  Creepy.
	“And,” continued Wendy, “if it IS your dad videoing you, (and anyone else) and you DO get a raise in allowance…I want in!” Wendy wanted a cut of the action; it was ok with her to be videoed secretly using the bathroom but she wanted a piece of the money pie.
	What if it WAS her little brother, Eric?  Creepier.

	It wasn’t too difficult to talk to her father about anything; boys, school, annoying boyfriend, and even her period.  But secretly videoing her in the bathroom?  Finding time to talk to her father—alone—was the difficult part.  Always—almost always if not constantly was her little pesky nosey brother, Eric, lurking…somewhere.
	Also mom.
	But, as it was, mom and dad worked different hours and were home different hours.  Then, as luck would have, pesky nosey brother Eric was at a friend’s house playing in a video game tournament—and dad was home.  Alone.  Perfect!  Getting up the gumption to confront was the next part.  Finally, Gina just sucked it up and walked into his den.
	“Dad?” she quizzed the obvious.
	“Daughter?” he quizzed back.
	They had a great relationship; he was cool, easy going, laid back.
	Mom was…opposite.  Serious, concerning, reserved.
	“Uhm, well, I-I found that thing in the bathroom.”
	Dad, six foot tall, great hair, a few degrees from college, lightheartedly looked to her like he didn’t know what she was talking about.
	“That thing?  The toilet?”
	Gina, a girl who looked like she just stepped out of the late 70s—lip gloss, hair style, etc. shook her pretty head—“No, that OTHER thing, BEHIND the toilet.”
	Now and her dad’s face took on a more serious note—almost panicky!
	He was at a loss for words.
	“Yeah, I was looking for something else and saw that little red light.”
	Why-oh-why is there a dead giveaway indicator on the end of those pesky little video things?
	Don Weed continued to be stunned.
	“Soooo, why is it there?”
	Don fished around trying to find a good answer.
	“Uhm, would you believe—for security?”
	“Security?”
	“Yeah, to—make sure that no one else is using the bathroom that don’t belong here.” He said brightening up at the end of his excuse.  And for a moment—a moment and did Gina almost buy it.
	“You mean—a burglar?”
	“Yeah, that’s right!” he smiled and hoped like hell his daughter bought it.
	She didn’t.
	Shaking her head, “I don’t think so.” Since the “find” and Gina had paid a little more attention to some noteworthy news stories—about such finds in public bathrooms, places of business, stores, and private homes.  The videoing was for one and one only purpose.
	Don sighed.  “Uh, well, you see, pumpkin, uhm,” he paused and began to sweat, “I-I don’t use it for myself.”
	Gina gave him a blank stare.
	Another sigh, “Well, you see, uhm, there are certain people in the world…who pay for videos—”
	“Pay?”
	Don brightened up again.  Money.  The root of all evil—and if so, why do churches ask for it?  anyways, “Yeah, you see, these people of the world like videos of people—in the bathroom—and they pay money for it.” he smiled and hoped like hell she wouldn’t freak out about it—and tell her mom.  That would be bad.  Very bad.
	Gina relaxed and leaned her butt against a desk against the wall.
	The den was mostly stuffed with shelves of books (dad was a book editor at a publishing house); outside it was bright summer, a window was opening letting in sunlight and fragrant flowers.
	“How much money?”
	Huh?  Hmmm this was new.
	“Well, uh, enough to pay up on some bills and such.”
	Gina nodded; she licked her lips and thought thoughtfully.
	Then,
	“So, is there enough for a raise?” she blurted out.
	“A raise?”
	“Yeah, my allowance.”
	A slight awkward moment and Don realized that his daughter was NOT going to freak out but sort of kind of blackmail him!
	Don nodded and smiled.
	“I-I think we can arrange that!”
	Don had just gotten a raise at work but the sideline business of secretly videoing his daughter—and her sleepover friends—padded that.
	Then,
	“Uhm, sweetheart, uhm, you know, uhm…” this next bit was going to be tough.  She just might freak out.
	“If you…would like to really make more…”
	Don proposed a much higher raise in her allowance if she would submit to being videoed (but not so secretly!)
	For a lump sum of x-amount of dollars Gina would have to be in her bedroom—prancing about in her underwear,
	“And then without.” Don said.
	Gina mulled it over.  A hundred dollar lump sum was hard to turn down—just for a minute or two of shirking her morals.
	“Uhm, and I don’t have a video camera link in your room.”
	What the heck did that mean?”
	It meant…dear daddy…dear sweat conniving daddy would have to set up the video camera in her room.
	Gina was still clueless.
	“Honey,” big sigh, “the camera I have—requires an operator.”
	Gina rolled her eyes thinking.  Still didn’t get it.
	Closing his eyes, “It means I’ll have to be in there with you operating the camera.”
	Oh.
	“Oooooh.” She got it. then,
	“Two hundred.”  Yeah, she got it.

	Life in the Weed home just wasn’t going to be the same.  Sure, it was awkward and embarrassing to strip down to her skin WITH her father present.  It had been years since last he had seen her naked.  Years.  She knew that he had wiped her, bathed her, dressed her—but she was five at the time.
	At thirteen it was different.  Awkward and embarrassing.
	But for two hundred dollars?  ‘I’d blow my brother for two hundred dollars!’
	Figure of speech.
	Once shed of her clothing the pretty late 70s style girl pranced about butt bare ass naked being somewhat nonchalant about it.  Leaning against her bed she lightly patted her bare ass; then, following silent instruction from her father with him using hand motions behind the camera she leaned against her desk, bureau, and then finally flopping onto her bed.  There she spread her legs and began fingering herself.
	Daddy Don about died (figure of speech).
	On her own and Gina rolled over and began spanking herself.
	Don felt faint.
	Gina wasn’t much better.  It was soooo creepy to be doing what she was doing with her father present.  Creepy!  (but it was about to get creepier!)

	“What you be willing to do for FIVE hundred dollars?”
	Gina’s mouth fell agape.  She couldn’t process that amount—or what she would be willing to do for it.  then,
	“Uh, dad, uhm…my friend Wendy, she was the one who actually found that secret in the bathroom.”  She would be willing to do anything…anything for five hundred dollars.  Anything.
	Actually, it would be half but Wendy was cool with that.
	Together, the girls stripped down to their underwear and pranced about the bedroom; giggling, being girlie with acting “gay” then sliding their panties down and giving Don a reason to live.
	Fingering themselves, spanking themselves, laying on the bed with the legs spread WIDE and Don entered into a world of euphoria he had never known.  The girls were giddy and easily talked into spanking each other—followed by kissing and then—THEN scissor fucking one another.
	And from banging their naked snatches together to banging their tongues to those naked snatches.  (Don told them that if they did that they would each get five hundred dollars.)  money can get you to do ANYTHING!
	Money can get you to eat squid…
	Money can get you to go on an insane roller coaster.
	Money can get you to go skydiving—although you’re afraid of heights.
	Money can get you to go streaking across a playing field playing.
	Money can get you to have sex with your brother…
	But before that…
	Wendy.

	Wendy found Mr. Weed home alone—she knew this as Gina was with her mother and some lame mother/daughter function downtown.  Even after Wendy learned this from Mr. Weed she shrugged, smiled, and said “I know.”
	The look on the girl’s face told him that something was up.
	Once inside the home the girl cut to the point.
	“Got any more of that money to hand out?”
	Don Weed was a little off his guard and just a little concerned.
	“I mean, for the right amount I can do anything—ANYTHING.”
	Don was selling the video to a special clientele who paid “anything”.
	In Gina’s bedroom the girl stripped off her clothing and posed in various styles; bending over, spanking herself, on Gina’s bed spreading her legs, finger-finger-fingering herself to the point where the “anything” option came into play.
	Mr. Weed had wood—it was very evident.
	“I can take care of that, Mr. Weed,” Wendy said, “for five hundred.”
	That was a lot of money for just a simple blowjob.
	“You’ll have to do more for that kind of dough.” Don said seriously to wit Wendy merely shrugged saying “Whatever.” 
	Setting the newfangled camera on its tripod Don felt a little foolish, embarrassed, and anxious but hauled out his meat stick for Wendy to ogle.  And she did ogle.  Had she sucked a dick before?  Unknown.  But she seemed to know what she was doing; gripping the man’s dong she “expertly” squeezed the dick pulling it tight.  Then she kissed the tip of the dick before rolling her tongue about the super sensitive crown.  After diddling her tongue into the piss slit she went down fully on the cock sucking-sucking-sucking.  Kind of an expert.  Kind of.

	Wearing a green Halloweeny type mask and a matching scarf covering the hair on his head, naked Don Weed fucked the ever loving shit out of Wendy—right on his daughter’s bed!  He firstly went down on the girl, licking her pussy until she came on his face!  She had never cum so!  She trembled, shuddered, farted, and then melted.  Don licked and lapped her cunny until she was willing to do anything.
	Sliding his cock into her young teenage twat was a part of the “anything.”
	The girl twisted, turned, bucked, grabbed his arms and undulated all over.
	The sensation of fucking a teenage girl was—sensational!  Banging his wife was pretty good—she was willing to be a little kinky now and then.  She wasn’t thrilled with “up the ass” but whatever.  Don’s uncovered schlong unleashed a torrent of man juice very muchly pent up from day one of seeing the girl naked.
	Sucking on Wendy’s teenage titties, spanking, “up the ass” followed.

	When done and done—they showered together and Don once more brought the girl to a magnificent orgasm eating her pussy out on the bathroom floor.  Afterwards, after the payoff, the girl barely made it out of the house before Gina and her mom returned.
 
A couple of days later…
	Don did feel guilty about boning Wendy; not that he boned her with an unsheathed schlong, but that he had not included his daughter!  But that came about a little later.
	A little later…
	“Soooo,” drawled Don to his daughter a few days later, “have you blown thru all your money yet?”
	“Just about!” giggle/blushed Gina.  Concert tickets, new wardrobe, birthday presents to family and friends, a new stereo, clothes, clothes, jewelry, and clothes.
	“Time to make another movie?” she blushed/giggled inquiring.
	The girl amazingly had no shame and was more at ease about being naked with her father AND fingering herself.
	“Well,” drawled the man with an already boner, “my client likes what I’ve provided for him so far and thinks you are great,” however “however, the client had made a request.”
	“What?  Suck off a baboon?” she giggled, didn’t blush.
	Close!
	“Well, for the next “movie” the client is willing to pony up double what you’ve been making.”
	Gina’s mouth fell open.  All the way to the floor.
	“W-who—who do I have to kill?” she was serious.  Then, “Do really have to suck off a baboon?” she was serious.
	“Close!” pause; then, “You remember calling your brother a baboon?”
	It took one-two-three minutes before Gina caught the message.
	“Oh shit!” she breathed aloud.  Then,
	“No—fucking—way!”
	“For one thousand dollars?”
	Oh…uhm…hmmm
	“Do I…have to…do anything else?” she was mulling this over.
	“For a grand you’ll do it all.”
	Oh shit!
	“Oh shit!” the girl lost her blush and was entering into panic mode.
	Then she sighed.  There was another concert coming up, a big one, tickets were fifty bucks!  Then there was Darla’s birthday, grandma’s birthday, parents’ anniversary, this—that—the other thing.  Money-money-money.
A few days later…
	The conditions were right; mom was at work, dad and the kiddies were at home.  Gina hung loose in her room…waiting.  Was she really going to suck off her baboon brother?  It seemed impossible.  She didn’t loathe him, she didn’t hate him; he was a boy, a brother, ergo a pest.  They got along, they sometimes got the other in trouble, they sometimes helped the other out of trouble, too.
	The last time she had seen her brother naked?  It wasn’t that long ago, actually; he was eleven, a boy, and was apt to go streaking from his bedroom to the bathroom and back again for bathing purposes—usually.  He also liked to slide down the hallway.  The hallway had a wooden floor and when it was clean and waxed the sliding game was on.  When Gina was younger she, too, liked to slide but as she got older—not so much.
	Eric liked to slide in his skin.
	So she saw him a time or two.  Did he, in turn, see her?
	She thought he spied on her (not like dad was doing) and she was kind of ok with that.  She never really caught him in the act and wasn’t sure what she would do if she did.
	Eric and dad were having a “meeting” in his den; closed door meeting.
	They were discussing the pending events.
	Gina was nervous.  Could she really do what her daddy proposed?
	A thousand dollars was a hell of a lure.
	She guessed it would be alright—just creepy.

Oh yeah, that’s creepy
	As always, Gina slowly-slowly-slowly stripped off her clothes.  Then she turned around with her backside to the rolling camera.  Enter dweebish brother, Eric.  He was already naked.  The young lad’s brown eyes went right to his sister’s bare ass.  The girl, following prior instruction from her father, bent over.  The girl smoothed her hands over her ass, parted the cheeks, and gave her little brother a reason to live.
	Eric then went to his knees and kissed his sister’s butthole.
	Then she turned around and there it was—pussy.
	Eric was speechless.
	Daddy was hard.
	Sitting on her bed Gina spread her legs and Eric kissed her pussy.
	Gina was officially creeped out.
	But the money; concert tickets, new clothes…
	The next step was a biggie—‘suck your brother’s dick.’
	It was a concept she just couldn’t fathom.  She had agreed to do all things with her brother for the money but actually doing it was a toughie.
	At length, though, she sucked it up (colloquial term) then “sucked it.”
	It wasn’t as bad as she thought (but it was STILL her brother’s dick!)
	Gina had never sucked a dick before and had no real concept of what it would be like.  If it weren’t for the dick belonging to her brother maybe it would have been better.  She kept her eyes closed and bobbed her pretty head up and down the eleven year old’s schlong.  It was way more than creepy.  Way more.
	After suck-suck-sucking…fuck-fuck-fucking.
	Eric was a virgin.  Banging his sister, though, was not “creepy” to him and sort of a dream cum true.  It was every boy-brother’s dream to fuck their sister.  Gina gritted herself; it was one thing to fool around with her best friend (Wendy) but her brother?
	Eric was no pro (virgin) he mounted his sister and stumbled on getting in.
	“It’s not in.” Gina said.  She maneuvered herself, her hands, and brother working his penis into her vagina.  She had always thought it would a hunky boy from her school and not—NOT her dweeb brother!  OMG!
	The boy was sheepish about his clumsiness but concentrated and finally made the incestuous deed and was hooked (on fucking.)  Fucking pussy sure shit beat jerking off!  Sure shit!  The boy pumped steadily; his dick a little less than average for a lad his age (11) didn’t even pop her cherry!
	After several minutes of earnest pumping and the boy’s cock popping out “now and then” the session ended.  The boy was exhausted and Gina, too.  Eric rolled off of his sister to lay beside her; heaving, ho’ing, wowing.  Gina sat up to see her father jerking off.
	Couldn’t be helped.
	Her mouth fell open and … there it was.  A man dick!
	“Jesus, dad!” she quipped.
	Don managed his cock back inside his trousers (but the bulge was still quite evident.)
	The rest of the session consisted of Eric sucking on his sister’s titties (totally creeped her out), kissing AND licking her butthole (more creeped out) followed by spanking her bare butt (with his bare hands) and cumulating with the camera zooming in tight on Eric’s schlong pumping his sister’s very virgin butthole.
	“I hope we don’t have to do that too many more times.” ‘(or at all!)’ Gina stated.  Eric went off to take a shower—beat off—and fantasize about doing his sister many-many-many more times.  Many.
	“Well,” chuckled/snorted her dad, “I know my client would like to see more.”
	Gina sunk her shoulders complaining, “Dad, it’s sooo creepy to do that with him.”
	“I know—I know.”  Then,
	“Would you consider—me?”
	Sitting naked on her bed, legs closed, the girl’s eyes widened.
	“Are you insane?”
	‘no, just hard.’
	“More money.”
	Slight pause.
	“How much more?”
	“Depends on you.”
	Gina blinked her eyes.  This was insane.  Insane!  Her pretty brown eyes were focused square on her dad’s bulge.  Square on!

	It wasn’t as bad as she thought—just creepy.  First her dweeb brother then her father!  It was nasty!  But for the root of evil it made the event tolerable.  (still creepy, though.)  When it was just herself and her father at home the motion was set in plan.  Gina was still a newcomer to the weird ways of sex, sex acts, incest.  Her father seemed ramped up and eager.  Too eager.
	Concert tickets.  She could pay the way for Wendy and several of her other friends.  Her own computer, better than usual gifts for her friends and family, better clothes, all for shirking her modesty and engaging in sex—sex acts with her brother and father—and best friend.
	She found sucking his cock not that bad, though.  Creepy, but it wasn’t that bad a deal.  His balls were hairless; she didn’t know why.  She had heard other girls complaining about going down on a guy and “flossing.”  Her dad ran his fingers thru her hair—the entire length of his daddy dong filled her mouth.
	Gina sucked—sucked—and then sucked some more.  Occasionally she pulled back smacking her lips and looking up close and too personal the cock before her.  She was no longer creeped out but it was still a strange feeling.
	Onto the bed she went; legs spread wide.
	Daddy Don took his turn licking her pussy and bringing her to the most incredible orgasm.  It was sensational!  She had fingered herself AND been fingered by Wendy.  But her dad…her dear sweet dad had magically brought her to a sexual height that was mind blowing.
	He shoved a finger into her asshole, too!
	As Gina lay on her bed shuddering from the deed that her daddy had done he mounted her.  Simply dragging his cock against her fevered cunt sent shock waves rocketing thru her young body.  The girl twitched, trembled, shuddered, came.  The first wave of orgasm rocked her world more than her daddy’s tongue lashing had done.  She lay in awe, sweat and awe, and cum.
	Don ploughed his daughter’s teenage twat with great deliberance; full force fucking.  His wife was a good fuck but he found Gina a better fuck!
	There was more than one orgasmic bliss for Gina; three by her count.
	Don finally pulled out and languished on his daughter cupping her smallish breasts, humping against her pussy, fingering her cummy pussy, lusting heavily.  Gina finally-finally settled.  She still breathed heavily but was calming down.
	“Damn!” her daddy said.
	“What?” asked Gina.
	“Forgot to set the camera.”
	Gina looked to him—‘are you serious?’
	“We have to do it again…” was that planned you think?  End.

*
We’re almost thru the whole class…
Larry
	What do you do when you’re failing 6th grade?  You become a pawn to a lecherous perverted teacher.  Larry Lickcox was in panic mode as the end of the year neared and he was on the short bus to summer school.  That seriously would fuck up his family’s plans to go to that big hole in the 48th state in the contiguous landscape.
	So, when Mr. Tobias Tucklebee offered the twelve year old a solution…
	Larry was no dummy…well, not in life.  In school he couldn’t get passed “C”; in Life he couldn’t get past a girl’s pants.  He couldn’t get a girl’s varying “moods”; she likes you—she doesn’t like you.  She wants you to do everything for her—she wants you to leave her alone so she can do things for herself—then, if you don’t do something for her she gets pissed.
	Anyways,
	Mr. Tobias Tucklebee copped a “more than friendly feel” of Larry’s ass.
	Holy hot shit!
	So, let Mr. “More than friendly” Tucklebee feel his ass or fail school and repeat it during summer?  Tough call.  With a sigh the usually timid/shy boy unhitched his pants and pushed them down.  Would that be enough to garner him a “B” at least? clad just in his tidy-whiteys?
	Nope.
	The homeroom/math instructor slipped his hand inside the boy’s underwear—and squeezed a cheek.  Larry leaned down on the teacher’s desk; it was after school type time and the only people at school were the janitorial staff.
And the door was closed with a piece of paper over the viewing glass saying “TESTING IN PROGRESS – DO NOT DISTURB”
	Young Larry gripped himself—inasmuch as his homeroom teacher was doing.  Then a thought crossed his mind,
	“For an “A” you can play with my balls.”
	It was out of his mouth before his mind really had time to process it.
	Mr. Tucklebee moved his hand around from Larry’s ass to Larry’s dangling virtually hairless balls—and played with them!
	Holy hot-hot shit!
	Despite how creepy it was to have his teacher fondle his wares—Larry got the weirdest boner.  The teacher took holt of the boy’s hard wiener and toyed with that tugging the boy to lay across his lap.  Mr. Tucklebee than swatted Larry’s ass once—twice—three times before standing him up.  As Larry sniveled and rubbed his burning ass Mr. Tucklebee stood up and fished out his cock.
	This was not going to end well.
	Luckily, thankfully, Larry didn’t have to suck the teacher’s cock.
	Instead, though, he had to shuck his clothes and hop up onto the teacher’s desk.  Laying back, holding his legs back at the knees, Larry stared up to the ceiling counting the dots in the tiles as his homeroom/math teacher sodomized him.
	Larry had shoved the toilet plunger up his butt—just to see what “sodomy” was about.  The handle part of a screwdriver, small flashlight, another screwdriver handle, dad’s beer bottle (empty), and a Barbie doll, had “visited” the bowels of Larry’s inner soul.
	Barbie doll?
	The presence of a “foreign object” was one thing; the presence of a “cock” was something else.  Larry knew what sodomy was but not about.  He had a best friend and they peed together out in the woods behind their homes; they even masturbated together!  But only to see who would cum first.  Larry WAS a little curious about what it would be like to handle another dude’s dong and even MORE curious about what it would be like to “take it” up the ass.
	The presence of Mr. Tucklebee’s cock up HIS ass was a mind blower.
	It wasn’t at all what Larry expected.  It was an odd feeling.  A weird feeling that escalated ten-fold as the math instructor humped and humped and humped.  Young Larry knew that it was probably wrong—for a male teacher to be fucking a boy student.  Probably.
	When Mr. Tucklebee had “finished” Larry was spanked again three times then given an “A” that cumulated with the previous grades already turned in to the office gave Larry a nice “B”—and no summer school!

Nancy; then Arthur and Kristina and we’re done
	Smoking a joint—that was a no-no.
	“C” in Math, English, History—that was a no-no.
	Sneaking into bedroom after Midnight—big no-no.
	Naked on the bed finger banging herself—another big no-no.
	Naked on the bed finger banging her best friend—wow (also a no-no.)
	Nancy’s mom was tolerant of some of her daughter’s shenanigans but there was a limit.  Bad grades, smoking, smoking marijuana, hanging with high schoolers, dying hair purple and green, and masturbating with her best friend were the absolute limit resulting in her only recourse—spanking.
	Unfortunately for mom—Nancy liked!  A lot!  She put on that she didn’t (but she did.)  Mom would take her miscreant child—as recently as last week! And bring her across her lap or position her against her bed and spank the living hell out of her (bare handed.)  Only when Nancy began to cry (forced/fake) and flail her arms and legs and beg for her mom to stop did Nancy mom cease the beating.
	And as soon as mom left the room—Nancy furiously frigged herself until she came!
	Nancy thoroughly enjoyed being spanked.  And at one time her daddy had spanked her—when she was abount eight years old caught in her bedroom looking thru a nudy magazine with her best friend—by her mom.  The best friend had to scoot while mom—not the disciplinarian at the time—ratted her out to her father.  When father came home he entered his daughter’s room to scold her.  She had been spanked before—most times with her clothes on.  A time or two when she had acted out, fussed, cussed, backtalked, sassed, she had gotten the belt.  Again, clothes on.  On one occasion when she had broken a neighbor’s window she had gotten her pants down and swatted hard.
	That was when she found that special tingling in her cunny.
	That one time, though, when caught with the naughty skin mag her father took her panties down and walloped her bare ass but good.  Nancy was in fear but she also found herself friggin’ herself.  Her father saw her and brought her onto her bed, spread her legs, and spanked her pussy.
	And just at that moment mommy opened the door.
	Bad-bad timing.
	And maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad had it not been for daddy’s cock out at time!

Finally!
	Arthur “Artie” Kinsingtun Jr. and Kristina Lyabuttean
	Like classmate Larry, Kristina was having a summer school problem.
	For her summer it was 2-weeks at the beach with girlfriends, a week of camping with her family, a week at her grandparents’ farm, a week at a water world place where she would work with watery animals—a full summer.  No place for “summer school.”
	But summer school was a real possibility if she couldn’t do better than “C” overall.  And it was hopeless; she studied, she tried, she failed.  “Cs” and “Ds” were her best grades.  Occasionally she got lucky and got a “B”.
	The occasional “B” wasn’t going to help wash over the “Cs” and “Ds”, though.  Not by a long shot.  She was already suspended from playing with softball for her school team and a lot of extra things she liked to do after school were also canceled (by her parents.)
	Desperation makes one do desperate things—like consult the school nerd.
	There were other nerds at the middle school; geeks, too.  They kept to themselves and helped out certain bully-type people to keep getting their asses kicked on a daily basis.  Arthur “Artie” Kingsingtun Jr. was one nerd top of his class in nerdom.  His favorite color was yellow; shirt, shoes, sometimes even pants!  (despite his help to the bully class academically they just couldn’t help but beat the Nerd King up now and then.)
	He wore black framed glasses, buck toothed, had a few zits, was dorky along with being geeky, and occasionally while conversing with him he would fart.
	But he was an “A” student.  An Honor student.  He sucked at sports but new a shit load of sports information—that sometimes helped Kristina when playing against other school teams.
	Kristina knew the boy, she once interceded in keeping a bully from beating him up.  Thus she acknowledged his existence in the world.  He thanked her and said quote “If anytime you need my help—just ask.”
	Well, funny he should say that.
	“I need your help.”
	“I’m yours.”
	“I understand that you can get into the school records; the grades?”
	“Yeah, I can, it’s not easy (or legal, ethical) but it can (has) been done.”
	“But I don’t have a lot to offer you—money wise.”
	Hmmm
	“Uhm, well, maybe something else?” the Nerd King mused.  (he was actually thinking more bully protection but Kristina was thinking of something else entirely.)
	Rolling her eyes of blue, closing her eyes of blue, feeling defeated, contemplating this and fretting about everything else—
	“Meet me here.” she handed Artie a note with instructions.
	“Ok.” He drawled being a little confused.

	At home after school and her mom didn’t make things any better.
	“Plane tickets!” she said with much exuberance.  Plane tickets to the coastal city, the beach, and two weeks at an amusement park there by.  She went on to gab about the grandparents couldn’t wait to see her.  On and on and on and on the woman went (on) yapping about the entire summer and what Kristina was going to do with it.
	“There’s so little time—you’ll be back in school in no time!”
	That didn’t help.
	“I-I gotta go—study.” She said gritting her teeth—and decision with the Nerd King.
	And right at 4:30 the Nerd King was at her house.  Her mom had gone to work and her dad was out of state.  Was she actually going to go thru with the proposed (but unsaid) plan?  What choice did she have?  The Nerd King could break into the school records and change her grade whereas it would be better than what it was and there would be no summer school.
	Up to her room she led the way.  Artie made comments about how nice the house was “You have a pool!” he was excited.  More was to come.
	In her room the boy hesitated; it was a “GIRLS” room; but not over done in girlie theme.  It was blue themed; sports stuff on the walls, no girlie dolls but there were some plush toy animals—but still not girlie.
	On Kristina’s desk besides the computer was some fresh laundered clothing—underclothing her mom had placed there earlier.  Artie’s eyes were solely focused.
	“Later.” Kristina said.
	Hmmm; now, what did she mean by that.
	The red headed nerd took a seat at the desk offered to him by Kristina and quickly got to work breaking into the school and changing grades.  Kristina couldn’t believe how easy it was—or at least it was for the Nerd King to break into the school’s computer and make the changes.  She was in awe.
	“There,” declared Artie, “all turned in grades make your final grade a “B.””
	Of course, there were a couple of more tests coming plus the finals.
	Kristina sighed.  The Nerd King had done his part now it was her turn.
	“Ok, like I said, I don’t have any money,” she had blown babysitting and allowance monies on concert tickets, birthday gifts, pizza party, and a brand new baseball glove.  She had ten dollars to her name, “soooo, what I CAN do—”
	And she pulled off her top.
	Artie’s mouth fell open.  This was not expected.  Protection from bullies would have sufficed.
	Holding her breath she undone her bra and dropped it.
	BOING!  The Nerd King had a boner.
	Kristina kicked off her shoes then began undoing her jeans.
	At thirteen and Artie was a virgin.  He wasn’t even “handling” himself that much—occasionally in the shower and sometimes in bed but sex was not on his mind all that much.
	Kristina shucked her jeans and stood topless clad in powder blue panties with a dark blue trim and yellow daises all over them.  Skin tight.
	Seeing the girl clad as she was would have sufficed for Artie right there but Kristina slid her powder blue panties with dark blue trim and yellow daises all over them down her long legs and there she was—naked.
	Artie stopped breathing.
	There was nothing Kristina could say—her young mind was frapped.
	So was Artie’s.
	On to her bed she sat on the edge.
	Artie didn’t move.  He couldn’t!
	The phone rang.  She didn’t answer it; it would only be one of her friends.  What was she to say, “No, I cant come to the pizzeria right now, I’m about to have sex with the Nerd King.”?
	Sex.
	With.
	The Nerd King.
	Pursing her lips and gritting her body AND damning herself for not being smarter she laid width wise across her bed parting her legs thus allowing Artie full viewing of her pussy.
	Artie still didn’t move.  Still couldn’t.
	Sitting up, “You ok?”
	There was bare head movement from the boy.
	Kristina sighed—‘maybe I could have helped him out with bullies instead.’
	NOW she thinks of it!
	Off the bed and onto her knees—ONTO HER KNEES she made her way to the stunned nerd.  Dark brown corduroys he wore and she could note the “bulge” within.
	‘Ok, we can do this.’ She sighed to herself—and unzipped the boy’s pants.
	After unzipping there was the undoing.
	After the unzipping and undoing there was the tugging down.
	After the unzipping and undoing and tugging down there was a very pronounced cock bulging the tidy-whiteys.  The flaps of the boys yellow shirt hung down; Kristina unbuttoned some of the lower buttons and then just pulled the garment off and then his tee-shirt, too.
	Holding her breath, closing her eyes, Kristina tugged down the nerd’s underwear.  Opening her eyes and there was a cock before her eyes.  A cock.  A stunning big cock.  He was thirteen and had the cock of a man!  The Nerd King had a dick waggling before her pretty eyes at least 7-inches! (2.54cm)
	And there was a bit of pre-cum soiling the piss slit, too!
	No, it wasn’t the first time Kristina had seen a stiffy; nor was it the first time she had sucked one.  But this stiffy belonged to a nerd.  But so long as she didn’t look up to his nerdy face…
	It was hot in her mouth and the pre-cum was salty.
	Did it just grow?
	Cupping the boy’s virtually hairless nads Kristina went ALL the way down then ALL the way up; there she rolled her tongue about the super sensitive crown then went back down.  Back at the tip again she diddled the piss slit with her tongue and got a bit of an explosion (of cum) into her mouth.
	How was it that a boy like Artie had such a big dick?  The boy barely weighed 130 pounds!  A little on the short side, too!  She guessed that Nature had made up for sleighting the boy’s other features.
	Kristina’s first cock was a boy of twelve—she was the same age.
	They had been at a Halloween party that was lame; lame outdated music with watered down punch and lingering parental units.  They skipped the party and made their own—after viewing in the backyard where the lame party was held seeing some party goers having sex they themselves were enthused.
	Mostly it was touchy-feely followed by handy-fondly.
	Giddy and viewing another couple doggie styling it in the neighbor’s yard the two party ditchers went up to the treehouse in the lame party’s backyard and after smoking a joint got naked.  Kristina had gone as a female version of Dracula while the boy was the Mummy.
	They didn’t fuck but they did everything else!  Sucking one another mostly.
	The next dick in her mouth was of a young-young boy she was babysitting for.  Followed by a visiting cousin who caught her sucking the dick of a young-young boy she was babysitting for.
	Kristina was amazed and confused—at Artie’s lengthy schlong.  From what she knew about a boy’s dick (from health books, online internet, and word of mouth from school) a boy’s dick should be about 4-inches at thirteen years young.
	Maybe it was because he was a nerd?  Did that have anything to do with it?
	When Kristina stood up allowing the Nerd King to view her naked body she figured she could end the session there.  She could have.  But-but-but he had a sizable dick!  Couldn’t let that go to waste.
	Laying out on her bed again and spreading her legs again she gave the open invite “come fuck me.”  Artie remained motionless but finally got the unsaid message—and naturally tripped sprawling to the floor in typical nerd fashion—tripping over his clothes bunched up at his ankles.
	After recovering he sat up on his knees working his clothes off then scuttled across the carpet getting eye-to-pussy view of Kristina’s cunt.  Kristina fingered herself—fingered herself—fingered herself.  The Nerd King was in absolute awe.
	“You can fuck me if you want.”
	‘If I want!’
	Sweating, heaving, eyes bulging, cock bulging, the Nerd King mounted.
	Of course he was clumsy; comes with being a nerd/geek.
	Kristina asked “This is your first time, isn’t it?”
	Duh.
	Artie nodded.  He needed his inhaler but when Kristina grabbed his cock and guided it into her pussy—his lungs bursted and mind exploded.  So did his cock.  Just sliding his cock into the girl’s quim and his balls blew spunk.  Amazingly, though, his dick remained rigid and despite cumming prematurely remained steadfastly hard-hard-hardest!
	It blew Kristina’s mind.
	She shuddered.  Her pussy virtually exploded in a million thrills as the Nerd King’s dong entered her and then began to pump.  Clutching his smooth ass she wondered to herself if she could tell anyone of her girlfriends.
	No.
	Never.
	Not ever.
	No-no-no.

*
Well, THEN what happened?
	Desert breezes drifted along the desertscape lazily bringing scents of wild sage and roses.  A distant hum could be heard—the wind mills 20 miles away perched a hundred on a hillside.  It was dark—not damn dark but that was soon coming.  In the distance the lights of traffic shuttered by on the desert highway.
	In the abandoned schoolhouse Ms. Watten moaned as her pussy (and asshole) leaked gobs of cum.  She would never be the same.  Nor would any of her students.  Before taking his leave of them…
	Ozzie had the boys, all twelve, fuck the ever loving shit out of the sixteen year old high schooler, Tiffany Ohioiowa.  Ozzie had already taken his turn with the girl filling her mouth with his manhood, smacking his manhood against her face, then drilling her pussy until he was well spent.  Already he had fucked the ever loving shit out of Ms. Watten—and a couple of the other girls and was just about done in.  But, he figured he had a little more to give and wanted to fully fill up the video camera’s memory.
	Zack Addamswell entered Tiffany’s cunt as she laid out on the old school’s desk.  Ms. Watten was on her knees at Tiffany’s knees, when Zack pulled out from the teenager’s cunt he went into the teacher’s mouth.  He was all cummed out and totally exhausted.  After a couple of minutes in Ms. Watten’s mouth he fell away behind the desk; collapsing and entering into a world no wow factor could explain.
	Wayne Boneswell entered Tiffany’s asshole; he was all cummed out, too.
	Ms. Watten sucked-sucked-sucked Wayne’s cock, though, getting that clear liqid from the bottom of the boy’s balls.  The boy then laid beside Zack entering into the same world of wow.
	Yancy’s dick fucked Tiffany’s cunt AND asshole!  When emerging from the teen’s turd chute it was fairly clean and not so coated—this because many dick prior had done a good job of removing fecal matter.  Into Ms. Watten’s mouth the boy went.  He, like many of the other boys, didn’t want to fuck a hole again for a long-long-long time to come.  Not even.
	Truck managed to blow a load into Tiffany.
	Shayne fucked the teenager’s cornhole and creamed therein.
	Royce held his load until fucking Ms. Watten’s mouth.
	Mick had no cum to give to any hole.
	Noah didn’t either.
	Gary managed to emptied a bit more liquid love into Tiffany’s shitter.
	So did Mark.
	Larry had no cum to give.
	Big dick Arthur emptied his ball juice into all three holes!
	Tiffany then was taken outside where she was spanked (by Ozzie), fucked in the mouth (by Ozzie) and left to her own.  Back inside the schoolhouse and the piled boys had had only a brief rest.  Zack was called up first, he could barely move.  His cock languished and ached terribly.  Amelia Sho sucked it.  The thirteen year old was like the boys—she didn’t want to play with a boy’s cock ever again!  She sucked and played with Zack’s schlong then lay across the desk staring down the other side to the piled boys who were all moaning.
	Zack spanked Amelia’s ass, kissed the cheeks, applied a hickie to each cheek, licked/kissed her asshole, and managed to get a decent boner—of which he shoved into her asshole.  He was given the option of whatever hole he wanted to fuck for three minutes.  It wasn’t because he chose the dirt chute over the pussy it was just “there.”
	He didn’t cum.
	Wayne didn’t cum and chose the girl’s pussy—after spanking and kissing her ass like Zack had done.  Yancy—pussy.  Truck—pussy.  Shayne—asshole.  Royce—pussy.  Mick—asshole.  Noah—asshole.  Gary—asshole.  Mark and Larry—pussy.  Artie the Nerd King STILL had an amazing hard cock and got to fuck both Amelia’s pussy AND asshole!  Also was sucked on by Ms. Watten.
	He didn’t cum.  None of the boys came.
	Ms. Watten threw up, though!
	Taking a break and Ozzie checked the outdoors anticipating the arrival of searchers.  There were none.  It was now officially dark—damn dark.  The “searchers” were searching in the wrong place—another desert school miles away.
	Betty Loowah got fucked in the pussy by all twelve boys but spanked (by hand) by all twelve boys.  Gretta was boned in the ass—by all twelve boys.  Stella was fucked in the mouth, spanked, and peed on by half the boys.  Ms. Watten had passed out.  Erlene got boned by half the boys in the twat—only half ‘cause only half could get a boner.  The other half smacked their shagged out schlongs against the girl’s ass, pussy, and face.
	A one hour break there was before the boys resumed Ozzie’s odd desires.
	Beth was spanked and fucked in the ass by half the boys.  The other lads needed more time—about a week.  Rita and Ten were fucked in their poons, spanked HARD by the boys and by that time Ozzie the Tormentor took a turn, too.  He butt boned young teen filling her shitter with a generous amount of spunk.
	Fratima, the big girl weighing in excess of 300lbs. was the only girl to be double teamed—half the boys banged her twat while the other half humped their way up her poop chute.  Not one boy got his rocks off.
	Gina got fucked in the ass by all the boys.
	By the time it was Nancy and Kristina’s turn the boys just couldn’t do it.
	So they humped with limp dicks, spanked the girls, and fell dead away (exhausted).  Ozzie had more plans but saw flashing lights bouncing in the desert.  Time to go.

*
Hay Neigh and Yay
Reasons to date a horse
….horse back rider—reasons to date a horse back rider…
There are speeds and many positions
They perform well with animals
They will ride it for hours
They know how to handle a big girth
They get off easy
They like it rough
They have their legs spread all day long
They like whips
They don't mind being bucked around
Event riders do it for three days
They wear leather chaps everyday
They are used to having hands between our legs
If they fall off we get back on and ride harder

	The images of the school kids fucking remained supreme in his mind.  The boys bucking the girls—repeatedly.  He wasn’t gay but enjoyed watching the ripe firm asses of the boys—and their young strapping bodies as a whole, pump vigorously their young classmates.  The boy so tired and shagged out that they didn’t mind piling up behind the desk—naked!
	Field Agents Clavis and Rose on the detail of Follow Ozzie got distracted about the time the school bus entered the desert.  Ozzie ditched his ride at the refuse dumpsite and followed in on foot.  After the shenanigans at the abandoned school in the desert—Ozzie didn’t get distracted.
	He got lost.
	Where he thought the dump site was was not where it was.
	And avoiding the several search vehicles searching for the overdue school bus was a neat trick, too—especially with the helicopter soaring overhead with the big nightlight as bright as the sun.  Hiding in a culvert helped; he shared his hiding place with a rather LARGE rat and a coyote who stayed at the opposite end of the half buried tube.
	Ozzie didn’t fret about his predicament; he didn’t worry about being the claustrophobia, the stench of dead animals, the odor of “waste”, or being caught.  He thought of his mom; cornbread with butter, fudge cake as only she could make with ice cream inside!  He wanted to be home again, with his mom.  He wanted to talk to her; how was her day?  Would she like to go to the movies?  He had some money from doing some chores.  He missed her.  He missed that cornbread!

	It was a call that no field agent wanted to make to a superior:
	“Uh, we lost him.”
	There was a pause (long) on the other end.
	“We’ll keep searching,” said Agent Clavis, “but we’re not the only out here searching for him.” The chaos that Junior Agent Ozzie had created was a dousy.
	“Keep searching,” said Agent Onion, “find him, pick up his trail, something.”
	Call concluded.

Abracadabra
	It was awfully noisy outside; usually the animals would get in an uproar over coyotes coming in too close.  Sometimes the nearby Naval Air Station as well as the further away Air Force base  had low flying aircraft that spooked the animals—and Belinda “Belle” Valle herself.
	Grabbing her father’s shotgun she hustled outside ready to pepper a coyote’s behind (or a low flying F-18.)
	But no coyote and no jet.
	The horses had settled as well as the chickens.  The goats Winny and Wuzzle still bleated and ran amok—but they always did that.  The air was just as it was usually in the low 40s at 4AM.  Belle held fast on the porch scanning the area intently but saw nothing.  Still clutching the family shotgun she waited but began to relax.  Even sometimes a stiff desert breeze would set the animals off.
	She waited.  Waited.  Farted.  Waited.  Winny and Wuzzle had calmed down as had Korky, Kaleb, and her horse, Abracadabra.  All seemed well; still, though, the hairs on the back of her neck were standing out; tingling.
	Something was out there.
	Or someone.
	The light on the barn door—inoperable.
	The flood lights—didn’t work, either.
	Cocking the shotgun she braced herself,
	“I know you’re out there!” she said loudly.
	Nothing moved.
	No other smells could Belle detect over the usual odors of the horse ranch.
	Nothing moved.
	Holding her breath, holding her ground, she waited—waited—sighed—farted.  Slowly she stepped off the porch—the porch light; didn’t work, either.  The light from the living room would have helped—had she turned it on.  The kitchen lights would have been good, too.
	Belle’s eyes had adjusted to the darkness of the early morning.  She made her way to the corral where Korky, Kaleb, and her horse, Abracadabra, came to meet her.  She had no treats for them—that would cum later.
	“Who’s out here?” she whispered to Abra.
	Abra(cadabra) whinnied and bobbed his head up and down.
	Belle petted the stallion carefully scanning the area; the barn, the outbuilding, the hilly rocky outcropping, the sparse trees, all around.  Nothing moved.  Stifling a yawn, a stretch, and a fart, the twenty-eight year old made her way back to the ranch house.
	What happened after that was a little fuzzy; like a dream.
	Dressed in her knee length rose pink nightgown and open robe the young woman felt like she were actually inside a dream—in slow mode.  The shotgun she had been clutching in her hands she didn’t remember replacing in its nitch by the door but she must have.  Her open robe fell away to the floor.
	The door?
	Behind her.
	Had she closed it?
	There was that creak in the porch step and a strange odor unfamiliar to her; body odor.  Hmmm
	Her knee length nightgown fell to her ankles.
	No bra.
	Basic white panties w/a floral print.
	Fingers not her own probed her cunny; fingers slipping inside her panties with the floral print.  She gushed.  She felt—odd?  There was fright but it wasn’t out of control—no panic.  The fingers, not her own, fingered her cunny and…and something—no…some ONE was against her backside.
	The light in the living room would have been a good idea but in her hurry to the door to scare off whatever critter was outside pestering her animals the living room light was passed over.  To her left, the country style living room; to the right the country style kitchen.  It was small with simple furnishings—as was the entire ranch style house.  It was hers, inherited from her parents who had passed on some years ago.
	A little panic came as her panties were lowered—the sudden realization came to her as it was only obvious that she was in fact no longer “alone.”  She knew that living by herself was a danger.  A young woman, alone, off the main highway “some miles”, not overly a safe environment.
	With her panties at her ankles the fingering resumed—more earnest now.
	Belle tensed up—her nipples stiffened and the dream-like experience intensified.

	It was hard to fathom that the “stars” in the skies overhead were like the sun only much-much further away.  It was also hard to fathom that the American people had voted into office a Democrat—twice!  Hard to fathom also as well too was the high school teacher caught selling GUNS to whom he thought were terrorist (but were undercover agents instead.)   Hard to fathom that a trusted pitchman used and DIED of cocaine overdose and another is a perverted porn aficionado.  Hard to fathom that Ozzie walked ten miles in the wrong direction.  (had he walked 2-miles in the opposite direction he would have found the dump site AND Agency’s truck.)
	The air was cold; sharing the culvert with the critters—and desert critter waste—wasn’t cool.  When the noise of the searchers went elsewhere Ozzie thought it best to move on.  He was pissed that he had lost the truck—but shrugged off the worry if the Agency truck was found—and traced back to the Agency!  He knew he would hear about it.  If so, and they were pissed, he would just move on.
	The scent of the desert flora changed to the scent of a farm.  From wild roses, sage, and mint to horses and their recycled oats.  Not overly pleasant but it was a hint of hope of civilization.  Soon and the silhouette of buildings came into being—and the stench of horse shit reeking the sullen cold night desert air.

	The stench wasn’t overpowering—until he stepped in it.
	An outbuilding housing farm implements came into being; then the barn, and then the farm house—ranch house.  There were some hoseys milling about; snorting, whinnying, farting.  A goat bleated suddenly bleated sneaking up from behind him sending Ozzie and his head into a crossbeam support sending him into a murderous cussing rant.
	“GODDAMN SORRY ASS FUCKING SONOFAFUCKINGBITCH!”
	This only caused the various farm animals to go into a tizzy.
	This only caused a light to come on in the ranch house and the front door to slam open.  A figure came out onto the porch—armed with a weapon.  A weapon that “cocked.”
	Although Ozzie was armed with a powerful EMAD he was no match for a person armed with a cocked weapon.  He held his ground—head bleeding—still cussing (to himself.)
	The woman came off the porch and went to the corral where some horses came up to her.  The silhouette of woman fascinated Ozzie.  His cock, still aching from the rancorous fuck fest with the schoolmarm and her pupils, tightened and became slightly aroused.
	After petting the horse and a nearby goat the armed woman turned to return to the ranch house—and farted!
	‘I wanna lick your fart box!’ Ozzie said to himself—and his sore aching cock.  And what Ozzie wants…

	She was “aware” but was unable to do shit about it.
	There was panic, fear, concern.
	There was a feeling she was not comfortable with.
	There were fingers not her own “fingering” her.
	Her sheer summery nightgown was cast off; her panties down.
	She couldn’t move.  She could breathe and think—that was all.
	The stranger, a man of course, fingered her pussy with expertise she herself did not know.  Her nipples hardened.  His fingers delighted her clit and she could feel his “cock” pressing against her ass.
	She was going to be raped—that was to be sure.
	Sodomized?  She wasn’t too keen on that promise.
	What else would he do to her?  Spank?  Torture?  Most assuredly he would stuff her mouth with his cock.  Would he leave her be then?  Afterwards?  The panic mode interrupted her thoughts of sexual want.  It had been awhile since she had had a good dicking—from a man.
	A man?   Hmmmm

	Bent over the back end of her country sofa, blue with flower print, Belle realized that she was most likely under the “spell” of an electronic device.  She was aware of those Devices and was in some fear.  Behind her the operator of said Device parted her ass and began licking her asshole!
	Belle had never been “licked” there before.  It was a little odd and somewhat creepy.  The man’s tongue probed into her hole and strangely—she found it a little enticing!  Her cunny itched—no, tingled.  A strange and almost unique feeling tingled throughout her body.  The man’s tongue probed and licked; licked and probed for what seemed forever.
	‘just fuck me already!’ she complained to herself.
	And as if he had heard her—
	At first the man’s cock touched her asshole.  Belle clenched herself but the man’s cock then slid against her “wet” pussy.
	‘oh yes!’
	The cock slid into her vagina; slowly.  The “head” entered then pulled out to tease her fevered cunt.  Belle gritted herself ‘goddamn it!  FUCK ME!’
	The cock returned sliding passed the head and going almost all the way in.
	It was torture; the man pulled out and slapped her ass, poked her fart box, then re-entered her sliding this time ALL THE WAY IN.  The pumping commenced and Belle was in awe.
	‘YES!’ she said to herself.  Sure, it was rape she knew.  She didn’t care.  At the moment all she wanted was dick.  As long as he wasn’t violent—fuck it.
	The pumping was intense; there were feelings yet unknown to the young woman.  She felt strange stirrings within her (and something liquidy trickling down her legs!)
	Concentrate?  There was no concentrating when being fucked.  She wanted to see the man’s face, though.  She wanted to be laid proper, on her back, legs about his waist, her eyes locked to his.  Her world was rocked; the man’s cock was powerful and thrilled her although she knew it to be wrong.
	How long?  More than a minute for sure.  Two minutes?  Was the man a three-minute fucker?  Four?  FIVE?  His prowess was amazing; he pumped vigorously for half a minute or more then pulled out, slapped her ass (with his cock) and poked her hole before returning to her hot box.  Every inch of his manhood she could feel.
	It was rape but she didn’t care.

	After at least four minutes maybe five the fuck was over.  The man pumped hard and she felt him straining emptying his tool splooge DEEP into her cunny.  Splooge.  She wasn’t overly thrilled with that; she wasn’t on any contraceptive and would have to get some One-Nighter pills to thwart any chance of pregnancy.
	The move from the living room to the hall bathroom she didn’t remember; the “next thing she knew” was being in the shower—with the man!  Details of the man/rapist she couldn’t remember distinctly.  He looked like a Hollywood actor, a hunk.  A stone face, chiseled chin, a bit of beard, hair color?   Eyes?  He was rugged; young, though, she thought.
	His hands roamed her body, specifically her breast.  Belle experienced more feelings that were tantalizing.  This was a dream!  It had to be!  Pressed against the tile back wall of the shower stall Belle melted as the man tweaked her nipples and then once more entered her worminess.

*

I’ll dabra you’ve never cadabra!
	Was it a dream?  A fantasy?  If it was-wow!  It was a helluva dream and a wonderful fantasy!  Her cunny ached, though.  Serious finger banging?  Laying on her bed she lay in wonderment.  Her senses tingled.  Her body tingled!  It was unreal!
	She couldn’t move.  Every fiber in her being was on fire!
	Could a dream do that?
	A man.
	A man’s face.
	Her senses were slow to return to her.  A warm breeze drifted thru the open window moving the white curtains that hung there.  The scent of horse shit filled the air.  She heard her goats Winny and Wuzzle bleeting—time for a feeding.
	Sitting up and Belle found herself—naked!
	Panic ensued.
	Her mind feverishly sought to make sense of what had happened.
	In the living room she found her robe, nightgown, and panties.
	Panic swarmed her.  She HAD been raped!  A stranger had taken her.
	Her eyes fell on the phone on the bar table to the kitchen.
	Call the police?
	Describe the man who had taken her?
	Hair color?  Uh…
	Eyes?  Uh…
	White, black, Mexican, other?  Uh…
	All she remembered was his cold stare—and his cock.  His cock that had rocked her world.  She wasn’t the same.  There would be no report to the police.  She was angry—angry that the Taker had left!  It was rape, it was a violation.  Against her will?  Hmmm

	Outside and the air was fresh—stinky—but fresh.  Belle walked nakedly to the corral (as often she did.)  Her mind was fraught with what had happened.
	‘damn him!’ for leaving.
	Wrapping her arms about the neck of her stallion she kissed his muzzle and looked longingly into his huge equine eyes.
	“I got fucked,” she said, “how ‘bout you?”
	Abracadabra whinnied, farted, and pranced (anxiously?)
	Winny and Wuzzle bleated and (still naked) dished out the appropriate food for them then casually made her way to the barn.  Abracadabra followed…
	At the gate inside the barn she let her stallion in and gently tugging on his head guided him to his stall.  Abracadabra entered the stall, turned around, and waited.  He didn’t have to wait long.  His master, his mistress, ran her hands along his body, hugged him, cooed to him, then fondled him.
	She what?
	Dreaming of the fantastic man that had made her cum more than once and more than any man who had fucked her, Belle took holt of Abra’s horsey cock and massaged it.  Her cunny tingled as did her entire body.  She thought of the stranger who had come in from the desert—who was that man?  She thought of placing an ad on one of those highway billboards:  To the man who came in from the desert and fucked my world?  Please come back!
	On her knees she brought Abra’s cock to her mouth and gently kissed the head.  Abra pranced and shivered his withers.  Belle fingered herself moving her other hand up and down Abra’s lengthy schlong.  All over her face she rubbed the horsey cock making “yummy” sounds as she did so.
	Then she moved the hay bale underneath her steed positioning herself thereon.  Her pussy was wet and in great need.  Taking Abra’s cock again she moved the head up and down her fevered cunt.  Her body shivered.  She thought of the man from the desert.  Closing her eyes she trembled and guided the stallion’s schlong into her sex.
	Working her hand expertly she guided the lengthy prong into her re-angling her hips to accept the mighty dick.  She had once had a friend tie her ankles up over the barrel of her steed; hands, too.  Then, that same friend worked the horse’s cock into her pussy.  Her friend worked the horsey dick—worked the horsey dick—worked the horsey dick managing to get a couple of inches in.  The friend masturbated the horsey fully until he came-came-came.  The spurting of horse cum shooting into Belle’s pussy tantalized her.  Just getting fucked by the horse was enough but the cum blast was the kicker.
	She knew that her parents were rolling in their graves knowing what she was doing; who/what she was doing.  Along with Abracadabra there, too, was Wuzzle (the goat) and one time with Plato—her German Shephard who had since passed.
*

With friends like this…
	Kristy Amachochi and Abby Nofellow didn’t despise each other, they just didn’t like each other very well.  At the Desert Island Drive-In the rival girls eyed each other coolly as they sat with their friends.  The center of their attention was the main cause of their dislike—a boy, of course.  He was fourteen and quite a hunky hunky; blond hair, blue eyes, good strappin’ body, great smile, athletic.
	Kristy was thirteen, fourteen in five months.  Short brown bouncy hair, blue eyes, creamy white skin, outgoing, softball pitcher, tomboy.  She liked kids and had a babysitting club with other girls of her community taking most of the choice babysitting needs.
	Abby was fourteen, six months away from being fifteen.  Darker brown hair, full of life (the hair), a little bigger in body, taller, more stern in the looks, couldn’t hit the side of the barn if she were standing in front of it.  She was a babysitter, too, but often ran afoul of Kristy and her gang in getting the choice duties—those that paid well.
	And then there was Logan O’Really.  A hunk.  A hunky hunk.  Both girls desired his company and he seemed to sort of play them both.  He was actually torn between the girls—Kristy was nicer but Abby was more apt to “put out.”
	Both Kristy and Abby had a small contingency force and one thing led to another—the forces merged and began arguing.  Kristy, already in dutch with her parents for aggressive behavior tried her best to keep out of the word skirmish.  This prompted the girl to scoot behind the drive-in.
	That was where she found Abby, smoking a joint.
	Abby stared at her conveying “so what?”
	Kristy, not a goody-two-shoes, but knew that smoking, smoking marijuana, drinking alcohol, was wrong.  So was cussing, having sex, and a list of other things she knew Abby was doing.
	The next thing Kristy knew, though, was…
	‘get in.’

	The drive-in’s mega burger; deep fried onions w/avocado, tomato, lettuce, pepper jack cheese, American cheese, bacon, and not one—not two—but THREE all American beef patties flame broiled didn’t leave a lot to be desired.  Topped off with the deep rich super thick brain freeze chocolate shake, extra thick barbeque crinkle cut fries made the mega meal a mega belly ache for Ozzie Pundsum.
	The mega meal, Burger Meal Number 3, was topped off with Kristy Kristy Amachochi and Abby Nofellow.  The girls were mindless, Ozzie a little mindless, too.  He had walked from Belle’s ranch house back into the desert searching.
	Just about noon and he re-found the desert dump site and his ride, the Agency’s ride.  Whew!  With the a/c on HIGH he sat there vegetating watching the temp gauge inch up to about the middle.  Inside the ’65 panel standard issue Agency vehicle was nice and cool.  Not so much outside.  His stomach grumbled and he needed refreshment.  The ice chest in the truck had a few drinks—he downed them, ate the ice, gnawed on some crackers and bologna, then remembered the Desert Island Drive-in.
	Swallowing a couple of antacid tablets and waiting a few minutes he motored on down the desert highway turning off on a dirt road that meandered this way and that.  It was well used and he didn’t like that but he followed it going under a desert-state length water transfer pipe.  The road went on and on and on and on.  Fifteen miles further and it abruptly ended.  To one side was a dry-dry-dry river bed that overflowed during rainstorms.  Directly ahead a mountain range.  To the other side and rocky rustic hills.  All around there were pines and scrub oak.
	With the a/c still on HIGH the festivities of Ozzie began.
	Manipulating the EMAD he adjusted the girls’ awareness level.
	Then he positioned Kristy on a long cot attached to one side of the panel truck—the non-door side.  Abby sat on a pull down jump seat.  She stared and stared at Kristy oblivious to Ozzie.  Ozzie ran his hands up and down Kristy’s legs, pausing at her crotch to give it a squeeze.  Kristy was “aware” but highly confused and made a face of confusion.
	“Leave…her…alone!” said Abby.  Although a rival and not too keen on being friends with Kristy—Abby wasn’t too keen on what was happening.
	“Don’t worry,” seethed Ozzie, “you’ll get your turn!”
	Abby’s breath was taken.  Her mouth fell open and she shook her head ‘you will NOT touch me!’  although not restrained physically, the girl was not aware that she could make a dash to the door.
	Ozzie fondled Kristy’s teenage breasts squeezing each one before unbuttoning her shirt.  Abby was horrified but couldn’t utter word one.
	Kristy’s favorite blue shirt was unbuttoned AND removed.  She wore a simple white bra covering two smallish teenage breasts.  Ozzie seriously fondled each breasts, tweaking the nipples, then sliding his hand down the girl’s body.
	Abby shook her head uttering “NOOOOOO!”
	‘take off your shirt.’
	Abby felt a strange feeling envelope her; she was hot then dizzy, and felt like she was tilting to port.  A general feeling on unwell befell her; she felt seasick.
	The next thing she knew was she was sitting there—topless!
	Kristy’s welled up and although she herself was not physically restrained, she couldn’t move or fend off being fondled, fingered, or undressed.  All Abby could say repeatedly was “Oh My God!  Oh My God!  Oh My God!” repeatedly.
	Pants off and teenage Kristy lay clad in light lavender panties.
	Ozzie finger-finger-fingered the girl’s crotch.  The girl went into panic mode as did the topless Abby (and she kept repeating ‘Oh My God!  Oh My God!  Oh My God!’
	‘come down and suck her pussy.’ Ozzie minded via the EMAD.  Using a sensor touch pad he keyed in his desire, highlighted the text, then pressed SEND and the funky illegal-to-possess module transmitted electronically the command (desire) to the affected Subject.
	Abby jolted trying to fend off the mind attack but Ozzie pressed the GAIN on the module and like a strong hand to the back of her head the girl bent down-down-down pressing her mouth to Kristy’s panty clad crotch.
	A severe headache effected the both of them; Ozzie and Abby with blood dripping from Ozzie’s nose and a high pitched whine in his ears.  Abby tried to resist but the more she did the more intense the headache became.  She learned that it was easier to comply than not—she sucked on Kristy’s pussy (thru her lavender panties) and wept.
	Sitting up trying to get a hold of herself she watched as Kristy’s panties were slid down her legs.  She tried-tried-tried not to stare at Kristy’s pussy (but was ordered to do so.)  Kristy’s legs then were pulled upward and back a little.
	‘lick her pussy.’ The horrendous command came again.
	Abby held her breath; then,
	‘lick her pussy—or be spanked.’
	She heard the words echoing in her mind—be spanked? It had been awhile since she had been spanked—a couple of years.  Her dad had spanked her—one time while she was in a dress, one time in pants.  One time she had pissed him off so bad he jerked her pants down and had at her ass.  She was twelve at the time.  So it was simple shoplifting—on a dare with her friends.  Since then their relationship had not been the same.
	“I-I don’t want to be spanked.” she wept.
	‘then get down there—and lick her pussy!’
	Pursing her lips, gritting her body, the almost fifteen year old “went down” on Kristy licking her pussy.  Her tongue flicked all over—she was no pro and had secretly kind of sort of wondered what licking a poon would be like.  She really had no intention of finding out—but would not be opposed if some girl wanted to lick her out!
	‘and now me.’
	Suddenly, to one side of her there was a cock.
	Inasmuch as she did not want to lick a girl’s pussy she also as well too did not want to suck a dick.  She just didn’t.  There were girls in her social who “claimed” to have slurped schlong.  She doubted it but then again…
	String cheese?  It tasted like those mozzarella things for school lunches her mom packed.  She sucked (and gagged) sucked some more and her mind just went blank thereafter.  She sucked and sucked and sucked then pulled back smacking her lips.  She felt ill.  The cock in her mouth—that just was—slapped her face then humped it.  Right up along her nose with the attached testicles at her mouth.
	‘suck ‘em.’ she was told.
	They were hairless—which struck Abby as odd.  Did he shave them?  Did he just not have pubes?  What was the deal?  She herself trimmed her own pubes hearing that boys liked their poons that way if not completely hairless.  Hearththrob Logan liked his poon that way—hairless.
	Back to Kristy.
	Finger-finger-finger!  Ozzie fingered Kristy’s cunt determining that she was a virgin.
	‘are you a virgin?’ he asked just to make sure.
	“Kinda.” she responded aloud.
	‘who was the boy?’
	A slight pause, then; “Jessie.”
	Jessie was an eight year old boy she babysat.  Often.
	Ozzie slid onto the hapless teenager—his cock was still mighty sore.  Mighty.  He entered the girl slowly and immediately thought of Belle.  She reeked of horse and had the most remarkable looks about her; her face, her hair, her eyes.  Everything.  He pumped slowly and had Abby come to their side,
	‘take off pants.’
	Green tinted panties greeted him.
	‘do you finger yourself?’
	Abby hated answering—but it was better than being spanked.  She gulped, sweated, then nodded that she did.  Ozzie sped up his pumping, pulled out and humped Kristy’s gash.
	‘do you have sex with little boys?’
	“N-no.” she answered.  The light indicators on the EMAD were all green, the brain wave patterns were all captured disabling her ability to lie.
	‘do you want to?’
	A long pause but the girl truthfully shook her head—No.
	Sex with a boy, though, like Logan—was different.
	With a sore cock and well shagged out from the earlier extracurricular activity it took more time to get the job done (of fucking) so he had as a visual aid Abby slid her panties down her legs then roll over onto her stomach.  Ozzie liked seeing a girl that way; bare ass.  Then, pooching her ass up Ozzie stretched out his hand caressing the ass.
	That helped Ozzie get his rocks off.  And he did.
	‘get on her.’
	Abby sat up; her mind was frapped.  She couldn’t believe; she couldn’t understand what was happening.  When she paused too long in the command to get on Kristy—she was bare hand swatted.  Instantly she remembered her insane dad going bat shit crazy on her when cops brought her home and learning about her shoplifting.  In her room he yanked her clothes down and swatted her ass—HARD.
	She never forgave him for that.  Fuck him.
	Slowly she crawled onto her not-so-much friend settling her pussy right on Kristy’s face.  Her eyes locked onto the cock (not the man—just his cock.)  There was spunk there—on the cock.  There was spunk all over Kristy’s pussy.
	James?  Not James Ritchie?  The eight year old who was always her shadow.
	Must be another James.
	‘lay down,’ a voice said, ‘lay down and suck me.’
	Abby thought she would pass out.
	The taste of pussy was one thing, the taste of cock was one thing—the taste of cock spunk was—UGH!  Closing her eyes, clenching herself, Abby, though, engulfed the cock.  She bobbed her head up and down sucking-sucking-sucking.
	Then she had to re-lick Kristy’s cunt—Kristy cum coated cunt.
	Oh My God!
	Meanwhile, Kristy had to part Abby’s ass and lick HER pussy!
	Ozzie moved around caressing Abby’s ass.  Then he fucked it.
	He slid with much effort into the virgin poop chute finding that that was not the right course of action—after a hellacious fuck fest at the school, Belle, and recent activity with Kristy’s pussy and Abby’s mouth.
	It took some doing to make full anal entry.  Pumping followed—slowly.
	Abby and Kristy wept.
	Logan masturbated.

Life is Relative; Death is a Concept
	Abby looked up to see what she couldn’t believe she saw—Logan!
	Logan O’Really.  And he was naked.  He was naked and masturbating!
	The hunky hunk moved up close; Abby could see pre-cum soiling the piss slit.
	‘suck him.’
	Oh shit.  She was not overly horrified but it was the circumstances surrounding.  Closing her eyes she took Logan’s offering and sucked—not happily but she sucked just the same.
	Logan liked—a lot!  He rocked and as he awkwardly braced himself at an angle.  His body was firm, ripe, athletic.  Ozzie caressed the boy’s ass—even reached under to take holt of the lad’s fuzzy wavels.
	‘she’s cute, huh?’ Ozzie transmitted to Logan at the Desert Island Drive-in.
	Logan nodded—his attention was focused on a very-very cute little girl running amok at the drive-in clad in a red summery shirt and short-short black shorts.  Bouncy reddish brown hair in a short bouncy ponytail with a red ribbon.  She was the epitome of “cute.”
	She was also only eight years old.
	There were other girls; other than Kristy and Abby there were those girls entourage being about five girls each.  Thirteen and fourteen years young.  Girls with good hips, great ass, developed breasts, great smiles, and fuckable.  Very-very fuckable.  And Abby—Logan had had his fingers in Abby’s poon.  It had been awhile, though, a few weeks.  They had sort of been on a date—at the local pizzeria where everyone—EVERYONE (Kristy) gathered.  Abby made a play for Logan and knew that one way—ONE WAY to get a boy and his attention was to “put out.”
	Abby wasn’t too sold on going “all the way” but she was willing to go a little way.  That “little way” was snuggling up to the hunky soccer player and letting him know (by showing) that she wasn’t wearing a bra.  Logan’s interest was piqued.  And from “showing” to sneaking out of the crowded pizzeria to a more secluded locale—behind the pizzeria.
	There, among stacks of crushed cardboard boxes, Logan got his fingers wet.
	Not in pizza sauce; not in cheese goo; not in something spilled.
	Pussy.
	That day and Abby Nofellow knew that rival Kristy and her gang would be at the pizza place.  So would be there Logan.  She wasn’t ready to go “all the way” with a boy, even Logan, but 2nd base would be alright.
	Third base was even better.
	After flashing her bare titties at him the boy was hooked.
	Behind the pizza place she raised her mid-thigh length dress.  Seldom did Abby put on a dress except for special occasions.  This was one such.
	Logan was eager.  Of course—he was a boy—a TEENAGE boy!  His fingers semi expertly fingered Abby’s pussy—no panties thereon, either!
	Finger-finger-finger!
	And since we’re fingering—Logan fished out his all too eager cock and Abby diligently handled him.
	They probably would have gone for a Home Run had it not been for the delivery truck roaring up on them.  Abby did manage to bring Logan to a satisfying end, though.
	And once more she was doing same—just with her mouth.
	Logan didn’t care; his mind was frapped.

	‘would you like to see her…naked?’
	Logan, a handsome fellow, Christian, sung in both school and church choir, read to younger kids, tutored kids on lower grades, slightly made notion confirming “Yes.”
	And from seeing the little tyke naked to,
	‘blowjob?’
	Another confirmed “Yes.”
	And from blowjob to humping on her, between her legs, and if possible—
	‘would you like to FUCK her?’
	A slight pause, a longer pause, a “do not want to answer” or admit it to even himself but—
	“Yes.”
	My man!

	After about three minutes of sucking (and no explosion of spunk) Logan got the go ahead to “put it in her.”  But since Abby was on top of Kristy…
	Abby Nofellow got the up close and extreme view of sex in progress.
	Logan’s cock slid into Kristy’s not-so virgin pussy.  It was like a snake swallowing its prey.  And Abby was fascinated!  She was alarmed, frightened, frapped, but fascinated.
	Then Logan began to pump.
	Then Ozzie began to caress the boy’s ass again, squeeze a cheek, grasped the flopping ball sac, and then—THEN press himself up against the boy’s sweating body!  He did!  Seldom—if ever—did Ozzie Pundsum have homosexual tendencies.  But he didn’t really consider what he was doing “homo” related.  It was sex, a furor of sex and nothing more.
	Logan came.
	He pumped for at least three minutes and then blasted a hot load of spunk six inches into Kristy’s quim.  He pumped tenaciously squeezing out every bit of sperm possible—then pulled out and Abby sucked him clean!
	Was that on her own volition?
	Logan re-entered Kristy to pump a little more; when he pulled out Abby licked the cream from Kristy’s poon.
	Next event cumming up!
	But first!
	Truck troubles…

And now a word from out sponsor
	“We’ve picked up his trail” the text read.
	Agent Onion sighed; good/bad/problem.  Although Michael “Ozzie” Pundsum had potential—he was a loose cannon.  He thought thru killing his father right in the very kitchen Onion sat in!  methodical.   But he lacked discipline.  Experience.  He was dangerous.  And now—now he was out in the public raising mayhem after mayhem.  An entire school class was one for the books; then there was the disappearances of several young peoples at a desert drive-in.
	Senior Agent Virus was aware of the Problem.
	Agency Leader Venger…not so much.
	It was an internal problem—one that was giving Onion an ulcer.

Green light:  good to go; yellow light:  proceed with caution; red light:  you’re fucked
	The green light on the dash by the TEMP gauge only came on when the emergency brake light came on.  The yellow light by the same gauge came on when the temp gauge was in the middle of OK and Now You’re In Trouble.  The red light came on when it was passed that You’re In Trouble remark.
	The red light on the dash by the temp gauge was red—flashing red.
	You are in some kind of trouble.
	Ozzie shut off the engine thinking that that would help.  Outside and the temp was in the uncomfortable range of a sweltering low 100s.  Humidity wasn’t pleasant, either.  Opening the side door sort of helped, the panel truck was in the shade of some very tall pines.
	It was mid-afternoon—a long time before sunset and “coolness.”
	Nothing to do but wait it out.
	Abby came to sit on the instep of the panel truck’s open sliding door.
	Logan sat beside her.  Drinks were offered and accepted.  Their minds were not quite their own but they were able to function well enough—just confused.  Kristy sat just inside, legs folded Indian style—very confused.  She drank a soda and had the most perplexed look etched upon her face.  It was then that ONE MORE PASSENGER was brought into play—the little girl from the drive-in that Logan had agreed was “cute.”
	Although the heat was almost unbearable the cold drinks were refreshing and…
	shenanigans persisted.
	The little girl, like the others, was mind affected to the point of confusion but her young mind was not frapped.  Ozzie lifted off her shirt and his movements caught Logan and Abby’s attention.  Kristy seemed oblivious…

	Down came the short-short black short.  She wore basic white panties—but not for long.  They were lowered to her ankles and then removed.  She was eight years old.  Logan’s eyes were on her—drifting from her sweet cute face to her bald naked cunny.  Ozzie caressed the girl’s butt and took her in himself.  She was offered an ice cold drink and while she drank she sat on Logan’s lap.
	Logan liked—a lot!
	Abby was stunned, confused, perplexed—and just a little annoyed that it was KRISTY who got dicked first!  Logan held the little girl on his lap (Megan) who wiggled some and consumed her drink quickly.  It was too hot inside the panel truck so a risk was made to escort the group out to the trees were although outside in the heat it was not direct heat.
	Once cooled down a bit festivities resumed.
	Laying on her back on a bed of pine needles and Abby “received” Logan’s cock.  Kristy was on top of her her pussy squashed down onto her face.  She tried not to think about Kristy’s poon (that Logan had gotten to fuck first) and concentrate on getting dicked (by Logan.)  Kristy’s quim was a little funky, musty; Abby’s nose was in the girl’s groove and as Logan entered her—she freaked out a little and found herself hungrily eating out her rival’s cunt.
	Logan did well sliding his schlong into Abby—it was a dream cum true.
	Other girls?
	Yeah, Kristy for sure.  And most of her friends—including Mallory who was twelve!  Did it matter?  Did it matter if the girl was twelve—or eleven—or ?
	Not really.  Logan had reservations but had unnatural desires, too.  If the girl was cute and he thought that he could get away with it and no harm to the girl and she was willing—semi willing—or not knowing that she was willing…
	Logan liked to fuck.
	He filled Abby’s cunny quickly; pulled out and blasted a load onto the stricken Kristy’s face.  There was “cherry” juice coating Logan’s schlong…

	With ice water (ice-ice-baby) from the ice cooler the overheated radiator was filled and cooled off.  Still, though, there was a yellow light on the dash by the temp gauge.  Not good.  Ozzie decided to kill the a/c and deal with the uncomfortable outside temperature.  It wasn’t all that bad, though; the day was waning and evening commencing.
	With Kristy and now Abby fucked—
	‘would you like to fuck her?’
	Logan’s hard cock told the tale.
	First he went down on the girl licking her pussy.  The eight year old giggled and swished her young body about.  Then she was fed the teenage hunk’s cock.  She didn’t giggle about that but her young mind was sold on the idea so…
	Abby was appalled.
	Kristy was…
	What bothered Abby was Logan’s apparent willingness.  He seemed so eager!  Little Megan could swallow the hole thang but she managed most of it.  She wasn’t eager about it, either.  Logan pulled out and fucked the youngster’s face before…
	‘now me.’
	As evening descended and cool air replaced the oppressive hot air, naked Ozzie stood at the open sliding door with an amazing erection.  An amazing erection that was buried to the hilt in Logan O’Really’s mouth.  The boy sucked like a pro!  But he was no pro (but not opposed!)
	Then Logan fucked Megan.
	Abby was awed, floored, horrified.
	Kristy was…still out of order.
	The teenage hunk did not make full vaginal penetration—basically the head and just a bit of shaft—two inches—entered the wee lass.  He did pump, pull out, hump the girl’s slit, then re-enter to complete the job and expel a significant amount of jiz therein.
	‘lick her clean.’
	Abby was horrified once more; but a powerful presence compelled her and she put her mouth to Megan’s cummy cunt and lapped up the spillage.  Logan caressed her ass, kissed her hole, then fucked it.  Abby grunted as she was buggered and had to wonder if Logan was acting on his own or like her—mind fucked by some other power?
	To further fuck Abby’s mind; she watched in dismay as Logan went down on Kristy…and a man she couldn’t describe behind him.  Logan began to grunt.  It was clear to Abby that the hunky boy was being butt fucked.
	OH MY GOD!

*

	The image of Logan O’Really being sodomized filled Abby’s mind wholly.
	The image of Logan O’Really getting his bone sucked on by the eight year old girl also filled her mind—as much as watch Logan FUCK the little girl.  It was already too much for Kristy who had blanked out and no longer required the mind warping from the electronic module.  Abby wasn’t far behind.  Logan languished between “willing” and concern.  Mostly he was willing—but had concerns about it.

	After Logan—one-more-time! fucked Kristy, Ozzie took his turn.  Looking into the girl’s eyes he saw that “no one home”.  Her mind was blank—there was nothing behind those cold blue eyes.  Ozzie pumped her and experienced discomfort from his shagged out shagger.  Still, though, he went on to fuck Abby while Logan fucked the girl from behind.  A double penetration!
	The sound of balls slapping, sweating slinging, hearts beating, and breaths…breathing was compromised by the sound of helicopters buzzing.
	The boys, though, completed their humping of Abby before checking out the intrusive noise.
	A helicopter was buzzing about 2,000 feet and getting fairly close.
	Ozzie wondered if the helicopter (the people in it) were perhaps searching for him?  He didn’t really care and was mildly amused.  There would be no explaining why he was naked with teenage girls, a little girl, and a teenage boy.  No, no explaining that.
	The helicopter, though, buzzed off into another direction—its great search light as bright as the sun stabbing thru the inky darkness of the desert night.  Ozzie shrugged, he would have likened a little excitement.
	With Abby on her back laying precariously just inside the panel one leg cocked and hooked up to a handhold strap and the other the back of the passenger seat, Ozzie peed on her well fucked pussy.  His cock was sore.  Aching.  Smoldering.  He still yearned for more action but could stand a bit of a rest.
	Logan found pleasure in boning Megan—repeatedly.  Pussy, mouth, ass.  With each penetration his prowess increased—as well as depth.  By the third time fucking the eight year old’s pussy he was going the full six inches in.  It took as many as four time up the ass to go that far!
	With Kristy and Abby “out of mind commission” Ozzie felt comfortable enough to snooze without worry.  Not that he cared.  It was a sort snooze.  He felt that he had no longer slipped into that wondrous realm of nothingness when—
(insert loud reverberating motorcycle noise here) startled the slumbering sleeper.
	 On the craggy hills there was the source of the noise.
	On investigation there was interest.
	A pair of motorcycle/dirt bikers crisscrossed the dozen or so dirt trails nearly colliding but HIGH FIVING one another as they did so.  At length they stopped at the top of a ridge and removed their helmets.  A boy and a girl; brother and sister.
	The boy was a handsome turd about twelve, his sister about a year younger.
	The girl ran her fingers thru her hair and had a sweet face; a nice round face surrounded by lots of kinky permed dirty blond hair.  She wore a white and green one piece outfit and tugged at it ‘cause it was hot.  Her brother dismounted his bike to stand offside—to pee.
	Hmmm
	The girl looked around, giggled, then began unpeeling her motorcycle suit.
	No shirt.  No tee-shirt but a simple small bra covering her small pre-teen breasts.  No pants but some sort of mid-thigh length sports shorts.  She kicked off her motorcycle boots—they were hot!  The cumbersome (and hot) suit was kicked off followed by the shorts and then her pink girlie panties.  She was nude!
	Her brother had finished peeing and was cheeky checking his naked sibling.
	He was grinning and his pre-teen dick was, too!
	The girl, Karlie, stood away from her clothes, scratched her butt, farted, giggled, then stood with her legs apart and began to pee.
	“OOOOOH!  YEAH!” she exclaimed.  The relief of relieving her bladder made her gladder.  Rubbing her butt she tooted again and made Niagara Falls blush—she had a lot of pee!
	The girl’s brother turned and waggled his cock at his sister.
	Karlie giggled but didn’t have a “cock” to waggle—so she fingered her smooth hairless snatch.  On his own the boy stripped off his own cumbersome motorcycle suit, rubbed his ass, then blatantly masturbated.  Karlie continued to giggle, blush, and seemingly marvel at her brother’s prong.
	On her own, Karlie got on her knees on her clothes turning her butt to her naughty masturbating brother.  She had a nice ass!  The girl, like her naked brother, was pretty tan all over.  The boy, Travis, got up close to his sister, got on his knees and began smoothing his hands all over his sister’s flesh.
	Then he kissed her hole.
	The girl didn’t protest—she giggled.  The girl only protested when the boy (once more) put his hard pee-pee to her hole in a feeble attempt at sodomy.  Karlie shot up and had an angry face.  There was a conversation (unheard) to end with the boy being put off and the girl putting on her clothes.
	She got as far as her panties when…

	‘so you haven’t fucked her yet?’
	“She wont let me.”
	‘does she play with your dick?’
	“Once.”
	‘do you get to finger her pussy?’
	“Once.”
	Travis Shutmimouth and his sister, Karlie were brought down from where they were to where Ozzie and gang were.  The girl was even cutey up close.  They DID shower together—and their parents were cool about it!  Karlie DID watch her brother jack himself off and he got to see her pee standing up.  He yearned, he ached to touch her—with his dick.  She had just began letting him kiss her butt—hole.  
	He promised her his allowance—no deal.  He promised to do her chores, help her with homework, cover for her, whatever she wanted—just to finger her pussy and “touch” it with his dick.
	No deal.
	And naturally, of course, the girl had never-ever-ever SUCKED her brother’s dick.  As evening descended and the air cooled, Karlie Arnell Shutmimouth SUCKED her brother’s dick.  The boy liked—a lot!  And with her young mind essentially affected by the effects of Ozzie’s EMAD the girl was only vaguely aware of what she was doing.
	Her brother, however, was very aware.
	And he didn’t care.
	The boy wasn’t aware of the particulars—like the EMAD thing, though.  And even if so, he somewhat wouldn’t care.  He was at a point whereas getting a hummer from his sister meant everything.  He’d do anything, ANYTHING, to get a blow from his sibling.
	And after the blow…
	‘go down on her.’
	Laid out on the carpeted floor of the panel truck and Karlie looked delectable.  Her brother was out of his mind—he couldn’t believe what was happening!  Down he went on his sister happily lick-lick-licking away.  And Ozzie was right there to caress the boy’s ass, take holt of the lad’s swinging balls, and finger fuck the boy’s virgin poop chute—in preparation for something later.
	With his cock slathered up and his sister’s quim slickered up it was time.
	Ozzie squeezed his own member as Travis entered his sister.
	Karlie made a noise and contorted oddly.  
	Her brother was most the way in when…

Terror in the desert!
	A sneaky helicopter with an enormous bright light (as the sun) pierced the darkness surrounding the ’55 panel.  Other noises gave way to an oncoming invasion of law enforcement prompting Ozzie to fire up the ’55 and flee.  There was the thought of standing ground and hashing it out with the law enforcement but he didn’t.
	As with most televised car chases—there is no outrunning the Eye in the Sky.  Ozzie tried, though.  He floored the cooled down ’55 literally flying like the Dukes’ General Lee over rocks, boulders, hills, and gullies.  The helicopter kept pace and Ozzie had no idea where he was—or going.
	Flying over a small gully and Ozzie caught sight of his next problem—
	Two actually.

	One was in the distance at the highway where he intended to go was lined with flashing lights—more law enforcement.
	Two…there was no landing.  After “jumping” across the dry wash there seemed to be an extraordinary inky blackness of night that “swallowed” the ’55 panel truck—whole.
	“It just disappeared!” said one helicopter pilot to the other helicopter pilot.
	The panel truck landed with a thump and a thud followed by a long hard skid.  A flurry of dust enveloped the truck obliterating any view from the windows.
	Ozzie’s breath was taken—mostly by the dust swarming in thru the open windows.  The engine had died but the truck’s light stabbed into the dust flume ahead.
	No helicopter throb.
	No pesky law enforcement vehicles overrunning him.
	Nothing.
	His hands gripped the steering wheel covering tightly.
	Ozzie’s stomach tightened even more so.
	Choking, sputtering, gasping for breath Ozzie opened the door and stumbled out into the night air still choked with flying dust.  Stumble-stumble-stumble—fall.  A bush tripped him up and he hit the ground freaking out a little as he thought for sure it was some police officer or Fed pummeling him.
	 Gathering himself he stumble-stumble-stumbled some more crashing into the remains of a wooden fence, careening off a boulder and tripping again over a bush.  He thought he heard a sound—a strange sound; like—like a pump.  A farmer’s pump pulling water out of the ground.  Something like that.  His mind was rattled, legs bruised, heels of his hands embedded with tiny desert pebbles he stumbled along crashing into yet another boulder.  This boulder, however, had a smooth surface.
	Unlike the previous desert boulders he had crashed into the new boulder was smooth and had a long surface leading to a cave!  That was odd.  Maybe.  He didn’t know, there was a general feeling of “unwellness” within him; his head hurt, his stomach hurt, and his cock—still ached.
	Hot stinky stinging air kissed his face making his ills all the worse.
	The stench of weed—sage and mint were mixed in the funky air along with something similar to burnt wiring.  Ozzie stumbled within the cave clinging to surface foreign to him; it was smooth this surface but also not so much.  Hard to describe—especially in his current state of mind.  Pitted?  Anyways, he chanced to look behind him for some reason and saw no opening.  It wasn’t there!
	Maybe he had gotten turned around.
	No, it wasn’t in front of him, either.
	The air was heavy and the sound of the pump sound vibrated everywhere.
	Coughing, sputtering, bleeding, a breathless Ozzie kept his shoulder to the wall and slowly inched himself along assuming that he was in some sort of cave or tunnel.  The dimensions of his new environment were easy—he himself was a scant 2meters tall (6ft) and stretching an arm up he could touch the ceiling.  Arms spread out and he could touch each side of the cave.
	Pungent odors filled the air choking him further making his eyes water.
	The sound of the pumps remained steady; he stumbled forward mostly sliding against the wall.  The darkness became blackness.  Ozzie thrashed his arms out trying to find something solid.  There was nothing but the surfaces that surrounded him.  Panic began as the inky blackness wrapped about him like a thick black winter cloak.  Pressing himself against the wall he blinked his eyes as if maybe perhaps that was the problem.
	No.
	Then, as he slumped to the floor wondering—wondering if perhaps he were dead?  Had the Feds or the blokes in the chopped gunned him down?  This was the afterlife?  Hmmm, if it were—it sure was painful!
	Then—then his bleary eyes saw something.
	A blinking something.
	A red blinking something.
	A blue blinking something.
	A yellow, green, purple, blinking something.
	Blinking—blinking—blinking one after another.
	Ozzie noted that the red blinking something blinked faster than the other blinking somethings.  Stretching his hand out he thought he could just touch them.  But no—they were further away than he thought.  Crawling, sliding, on the floor there was a wall.  A layer of dust coated the wall and the blinking lights.
	Red, yellow, green, purple.
	Green was supposed to mean something good.
	Brushing away the dust revealed something of a panel; there were odd symbols etched onto the panel.  Ozzie stared and stared and contemplated.  Then,
	“Well, since I’m dead, cant get any deader!” and pressed the green senory button.
	Nothing.
	“Fuck it.” he said to himself and pressed the red button.
	Nothing.
	Yellow?  Purple?  Blue?
	Nothing—nothing—not a goddamn thing nothing.
	“Well fuck me!” he bitched aloud.
	Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding!  The magic words apparently—a “door” whisked open flooding the sullen air with foul air that was just as putrid as a cess pool.
	Coming into a wider area Ozzie virtually bolted; stumbling and wildly flailing his arms about searching for a surface.  There didn’t seem to be one.  Chased by the darkness he all but ran blindly forward sucking in air as if he were surging up out of a pool of water of which he had nearly drowned.  It was then he realized that he had been holding his breath!
	Taking breath sent him to his backside flopping about like a fish caught and thrown out of his environment.  On his hands and knees gasping for breath he flailed crashing into a wall.  That was something; substance.
	With his heart thumping crazily in his chest the young man pushed himself to stand stumbling again but against the not-so-smooth wall tripping into another “room” he supposed.  Here, and the air was heavy with a hint of something even more foul than before.  His eyes burned.  Using his shirt he covered his face and strove to make sense of the hell he was in.
	Then fear gripped him; his heart felt shredded to the point where he felt pain.
	“What the—”
	It wasn’t the air, though, that gripped him with a new fear; as his stinging eyes adjusted to the new-new surroundings he saw a wall staring back at him!
	What the—?
	How long he stood gripped in fear he didn’t know—awhile.  At length, though, he noted that the “wall” was a dark grayish wall of roundish holes.  In these holes were skulls!
	Human?
	Not quite.
	Some were he guessed; others were—odd shaped.  The skulls were clean of skin.  No eyes, no lips, ears, skin.  He felt his bowels begin to churn.  That wasn’t good.  Remembering a certain movie with a certain actor who encounter a certain “predator” in a certain South American jungle freaked him out.  His fucked up father had told him incredible tales of Hell, a place for boys who misbehaved.  For lying, cheating at school, bullying, pissing his bed, talking back, sass, and a whole list of shit boys were apt to do there was a special place in Hell for that lot; and the head demon himself would send mini demons to fetch him.  In that special place in Hell bad boys would have their heads lopped off and stored as trophies for the demon lord.
	Was this a trophy room?
	Ozzie was an adult and long since quit believing in stupid shit like Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, Tooth Fairy, God and Hell.  But then again…
	His body convulsing, his bowels churning, his asshole clenching, Ozzie flung himself away from the wall of skulls stumbling into a thick matted wall of moss?  Flinging about in a dire panic he smacked himself into a solid non-giving wall.
	Not a rock wall but a metal one.
	Tearing wildly at the thick matted wall of moss that reeked to high heaven Ozzie found himself staring at what he could describe as a control panel.  Fraught with fright he pounded on the panel of blinking lights.  Clearing away layers of dust the lights were brighter; there, too, were technical readouts of flickering dials of one direction and another.
	 He must of done something as suddenly there was a “whoosh!” and less putrid air kissed his face from some air vent and then—there was light!  Not blinding but since he had been enveloped in darkness for some time he was blinded just the same.
	Many minutes were needed before his eyes re-adjusted.
	Then he became aware of a presence.
	From behind him.
	Slowly Ozzie turned his head cocking it to see.
	He had no weapon and his body was already fraught with pain and damage.
	Still, he was willing to fight to the end.
	That was until he saw what he saw.
	To describe it—he couldn’t.  A “creature” would have to suffice.  The “creature” standing well over 6ft. (2mtrs) tall had seemingly peeled itself away from a wall; the thick matt of putrid curtain draped the creature.  The creature was cloaked in a long sickly green/grey shroud (with a hood.)
	Ozzie turned to face the creature and knew that within the hood was one of those skulls from the wall.  The creature stood some eight feet from Ozzie.  Then he moved closer.
	Ozzie was petrified with fear—which stood for Freak!  EEEK! And RUN!
	But the fear thing had his feet cemented to the floor.
	The creature moved closer being a mere six feet from him.
	Then four feet.
	Ozzie pressed himself against the wall and really felt his bowels “moving.”
	From within the shrouded hood he saw two piercing yellow eyes.
	“I am so fucked!” he said to himself.
	Funny you should say that…
	Suddenly out from about the middle, a little lower, something stirred.
	A bulge appeared; then something more.
	Ozzie would have run like his ass was on fire could he move.
	From the creature the bulge increased—something was sticking out from the sickly green/grey cloak.  The “something” increased; poking out more and more and more still inside the cloak.  Ozzie’s eyes were focused and he felt more and more petrified.

	Then the hood of the creature’s cloak fell away revealing a ghastly sight; a slimy green head with two huge eye stalks like a slug sticking upward.  The skull was elongated—and a sickly-sickly green.  There was an odor, too.  There were three eye stalks all wavering about seemingly looking all over the room and not so much at Ozzie.
	“What the fuck are you!?”
	No answer from the creature; instead, the creature stepped even closer and the thing prodding from within its cloak poked thru!  It was a dick!  A dick!  A dick!  Let me say that one more time—a dick!
	Ozzie’s eyes focused solely on the “dick”.  It was long.  It was green.  It was slimy.  Drool dripped from the long dick—and it was long; more than a foot and growing!  It had a bulbous head that was quite large—3inches in diameter!  The shaft was 2inches and slimy drool dripped from its entire length.
	Whether or not there were a pair of dangling balls or not at the base of the slug-like alien’s cock or not Ozzie didn’t know.  And he didn’t want to know.
	Bracing against the wall and Ozzie tried to think.	
	Didn’t happen.
	He couldn’t think; he couldn’t breathe.
	Ozzie’s eyes went from the alien dick to the alien face.
	Was it grinning at him?  Was it laughing?  There was a mouth; no lips, but a 4-inch wide mouth.  No teeth but a slippery tongue that flickered all about wildly inside.  The alien dick came closer—closer—closer.
	Ozzie made a dash to escape.  It was sudden and he hoped it would catch the creature off-guard.
	It didn’t.
	Had the creature arms?  Ozzie didn’t know but as he made his dash he was suddenly grabbed and flung HARD against the wall.  He felt his breath and yea his very life escaping him.  Dizziness befell him and he felt even more sick than he did before.
	Suddenly, a horrible—horrible—horrible odor encased him.
	The stench so powerful, so retched, so putrid his eyes burned and the burning extended into his throat.
	Then he felt something in his ass.
	Not his bowels exploding from within but something else.
	Like a doctor’s finger—or a good kinky girlfriend.
	But it wasn’t a doctor—or a good kinky girlfriend.
	“NOOOOO!	“ screamed Ozzie.
	Something—SOMETHING was intruding into his virgin shitter.
	NOOOOOO!

	Pressed hard against the pock marked wall and Michael “Ozzie” Pundsum was in a dire situation.  He was being sodomized!  The “presence” of a cock jamming its way into his asshole was incredible.  The enormity was incomprehensible.  The alien cock slithered with great determination going where no cock (or even finger) had gone before.
	There was a little pumping and Ozzie wasn’t sure—but—but was this slimy alien slug-like creature—cumming?  Was he cumming in his asshole?  OMG!
	Suddenly and Ozzie saw an opportunity.  It was one of those spur of the moment things; grabbing one of the non-slimy skulls from the hole in the wall and Ozzie whirled around bashing the skull against the skull of the butt fucking creature.
	The creature’s cock was STILL partially up Ozzie’s shit hole; the clean skull made a grossly sickening sound as it smashed against the alien slug’s head.  A great deal of pus? oozed out and those twitching eye stalks all vibrated still as if experiencing one of those tumultuous orgasms humans like.
	Ozzie, naked (and he didn’t remember when he lost his clothes) scurried along crashing this way and that way following an instinctive rush to flee.  Was the slimy butt fucking creature following?  Ozzie didn’t take time to look back to see.
	 Emptying into a new room Ozzie tripped, stumbled, crashed to the cold metal floor.  His mind flying he thrashed about as if being attacked.  He wasn’t.  laying on the floor his body still—his mind whirling in a blender—he took stock of where he was.  It was a room full of gadgets; contraptions; odd shaped barrels; containers; and sounds.  None of which made any sense to the bedraggled Ozzie.
	And along with the gadgets, contraptions, and odd shaped barrels was a curious smell.  An odor.  A little unpleasant but the again—kind of familiar.  His confusion was supreme.  All that there ultimately was was to lay still and close his eyes—and maybe that would end his horror.
	Nope.

“I’ll reform!  I’ll reform!” … … “Wait, I’m alive?  Never mind.”
	He awoke with a startle (I hate that).  His throat was dry; his asshole sore.
	The horrors that had plagued him since entering Hell continued to do so—they had not abated regardless of his snooze.  And sleeping on a cold unforgiving metal floor was not good for one’s body.  A headache, sore asshole, fucked up mind, Ozzie was in bad shape.  Sitting up and he instantly hurled.  He had no idea that Hell would be like it was.  He thought there would be lava, fire, brimstone, shit like that.  Instead, he was immediately beset upon by a demon—and raped!
	Could it get any worse?  Would Satan Himself rip his heart out—and eat it in front of him?  Would he himself be raped by Satan?  Would a demon rip his balls off?
	After vomiting he crawled away from the spew to brace against a wall.  All around him were huge barrels; metal barrels, taller and larger in diameter than the standard barrels he knew of.  There were metal lines, like transfer lines in a manufacturing warehouse, coming in and out of the barrels going up to the grey metal ceiling.
	How long he sat he didn’t know—he must’ve drifted off to sleep—but a noise awoke him (again with a startle) alerting him to a demon entering the facility.  His interpretation of “demon” from his church/school days and what actually WAS a demon were vastly different.  No horns, no red skin, no tail, not even a friggin’ pitchfork!  It was, in fact, a slug-like creature.  HUGE, too.  Like a garden slug but way-way bigger.  And no shell.  This demon-slug towered twelve feet and was huge in diameter.  The creature was reared up or maybe that was the way it moved about?  There were three huge eye stalks wavering all about and—AND three ARMS!  There were two on one side, one below where a regular “arm” would be and then one by itself on the other side.
	There was a mouth, no nose.
	The slug-creature-demon slithered/slimed its way to one of the barrels, and removed the top.  When the top lid of the barrel was removed the room was instantly inundated with a horrendous reeking odor.  It made Ozzie retched violently—so much so that he puked.  Somehow the slug-demon didn’t hear him.  The top of the barrel was replaced and the creature went exited the room.
	The fumes were too much for Ozzie and he passed out.
	Again, though, he was rudely awakened by yet another slither slug-demon.
	The new creature slimed its way to another barrel lifting the lid.  The creature wore no “uniform” or any clothing so it begged to wonder how was one different than the other?
	More fumes filled the room; Ozzie covered his mouth shutting his eyes tight.
	When he opened his eyes the slimy creature was gone.  A headache the size of Montana filled Ozzie’s head.  His stomach churned and his bowels were in business for themselves.
	“I got to get the fuck outta here!” he said to himself—and he hoped like hell he didn’t go back to the room where the butt fucking demon was.
	Standing up was a bad idea—he immediately lost his balance and felt incredibly ill.  It was a hangover ten-fold and then doubled.  He puked.  He shit and puked and puked and then shit.  It couldn’t be helped.  Sliding along the wall he came around one of the huge barrels and for no other reason than hoping there was better air up higher he climbed the barrel.
	There were no ladders on the barrel but there were ridges and precariously the young misplaced human climbed up to the top of the barrel.  The air wasn’t any better twenty feet up (but it wasn’t any worse.)
	Sitting on the barrel lid he tried to gather himself; his hearing was off, too; it felt like he was all stuffed up.  Every fiber of his being was on fire.  He sat still for a moment and then his curiosity got the best of him; what was inside the barrels?
	Seeing a small hatch—five by five—Ozzie maneuvered the latch and got a huge whiff of something so powerful it blasted him off the barrel.  Colliding with something furry.
	Not slimy.
	Not sticky.
	Not a demon.
	Ozzie was “caught”; held.  When he looked up—he passed out (again.)

	How to describe?  He couldn’t.  It was grotesque to begin with.  A brown face, kind of monkey-like surrounded by pink fur.  PINK!  A goofy face more than grotesque.  It just looked weird—not to mention that PINK fur!  It stood tall, this creature with the monkey-like grotesque-goofy face; eight feet at least!  The abominable snowman?
	The pink snowman carried Ozzie out of the room to an adjoining room that was warm, less bright, and more comfortable.  The “comfortable” part came from being held by the pink creature.  For some reason, instead of being scared shitless Ozzie found comfort.
	Was that…was that purring?  Was this abominable creature of myth purring to him?  Or was that maybe grumbling?  Growling?  IBS?  Whatever, it was soothing.  Ozzie’s mind was fucked.  Frapped, lambasted, and fucked.  
	Did the mythical pink creature just lick him?
	To further blow Ozzie’s confounded mind the pink creature offered him a joint.  He did!  The creature grunted and to Ozzie it sounded like he was saying “da gronk!”  Where the creature came up with the fatty Ozzie didn’t know—didn’t care.  He took the offering that was five times the size of a normal joint and took a hit.  It was already lit.  Ozzie had no idea how the creature came to have such a thing OR how he fired it up.  Didn’t matter.
	On the first hit and Ozzie felt a weirdness swell within him; then all over.  His skin tingled and he took another hit.  Then another.  He was getting a hell of a buzz.  da gronk! seemed to chuckle, giggle, snicker.  He, too, took a LONG hit off the shared joint and his strangely yellow eyes turned red.
	Ozzie later presumed that da gronk! da probably a “pet” of the Devil.
	Just as he was settling down, buzzing, getting the munchies, a terrible thirst—da gronk! hoisted Ozzie upside down, spread his legs, and…and…
	Licked clean his ass.
	Mind officially blown. 
	The pink abominable mythical creature cleaned Ozzie’s mess.
	Afterwards when the buzz effect really began to kick in da gronk! carried Ozzie back into the other room (where all the barrels were) and opened a spigot almost at ground level.  The spigot drizzled a greenish/yellow liquid with blue specks.  A ladle was used to collect the liquid and it was offered to Ozzie.
	Ozzie accepted.
	The liquid had a “honey-like” aroma along with lavender and an unfamiliar scent.  The taste was…was…indescribable.  The liquid was thick…at the beginning.  As soon as it was passed the tongue and hit the throat descending its viscous plummet changed on a molecular level.  Also there was fire.
	Ozzie head exploded.  His eyes bursted outward, his nostrils were a virtual log flume.  Then his stomach erupted into a war of cannons similar to that of a pirate ship against the English Armada.
	Two hundred proof and then some.  A lot some.
	It was hellish hooch.
	da gronk! took a whole ladle of the liquid fire; his eyes rolled, he coughed, sputtered, and rolled his tongue wildly about his thick blubbery lips.  Then he chuckled, snorted, and took another drink!

	Dazed, confused, abused, bleeding, and totally—like totally grossed out, Ozzie didn’t think it could get any worse.  Then it did.  How much time had passed since he had toked with the da gronk! he didn’t know—a long time he thought.  The effects of the hellish hooch was still with him.  Standing up was a bad idea—he immediately got sick, twirled, swirled, and collapsed to the floor.  The air at floor level was better, cooler, and the room didn’t spin near as much!
	A long-long while he lay on the metallic floor.  He thought for sure that Hell would have lava-volcanic floors.  At length he began to crawl.  Where had the creature who had licked his shitty ass gone?  More crawling—more wondering goofy shit; like, could he get pregnant (from being butt fucked by a demon?)
	More crawling.
	At length he came to a large-large-large door.  On the floor that was pitted (along with the walls) there was something of a slime trail?  Odd.  On the wall by the door seam there was a control panel; blinking lights and a diagram of some sort that was way beyond Ozzie’s comprehension.
	The panel was way up above Ozzie’s head and just out of reach for him to touch any of the sensors.  So, fuck it, he pissed on it.  stepping back a bit and being very-very high, he aimed his cock and whizzed up onto the control panel.
	Inasmuch as there had been literally FIRE scorching down his esophagus there was equal if not moreso erupting out of his pisser.  He screamed, fell back, and was only mildly aware of the now opened door.

	Beyond the door there were about a dozen or so slimy green slug-demons humping humans!  All the humans were males.  Some were men, some were teenage boys.  There were other males strewn about withering in agony (they had just been freshly sodomized.)
	It was heart wrenching.  His asshole clenched up tight and his stomach did also.  It was a butt fuck party!  Sacrificial humans.  He had to wonder if this was happening to the males who came to Hell’s domain—what was happening to the women?  He didn’t want to know—he wanted to flee.
	So he did.
	More stumbling, falling, crashing, Ozzie fled wildly down this hall and that somehow emerging into a room where there were strange objects for to be sure but one stood out as familiar.
	His truck!
	There it was, a little dinged up, dusty, but it was his (the Agency’s) 1955 panel truck.
	Almost blinded by fear and anxiety Ozzie climbed into the ride and fired it up.  With his mind whirling in a blender (still) he floored the accelerator gunning the engine.  The truck lurched forward nearly colliding with a piece of hellish equipment.  Spinning the wheel he spun the truck and did a “donut” before sighting in on an opening—a large opening.
	Gunning the engine again he floored the truck motivating it to the opening.
	The truck zoomed ahead flying out of “hell” and into the desert he had originally came from.  Not looking back and Ozzie pointed the truck flying—literally flying across the desert floor.
	Entering into the cargo bay of dropship “Nostrotlurb” two hellish slug-aliens mused at the quickly departing human.
	“Gleep! Did we just mleep! let that human—sleep! escape? Nleep!”
	The other slug-alien said nothing.
	“Should we—zleep! tell—gleep! the Inquisitor?  Aleep!”
	The other alien-slug gave the first one a long look (with his three eye stalks shuddering still).
	“Nleep! And be minced?”
	The other slug-alien sighed, closed two of its three eyes and shimmered its gigantic slimy body.
	“Perhaps some olesqueek will—dleep! soothe us.” he said calmly.
	“YES!” said gleefully Blurp, a guard and 140th on the list to shag a human.
	“Gleep! Yes! A fresh batch oleep! has just been zleep! made! Pleep!”
	The slug-aliens licked their blubbery lips.  He was 160th on the list to have sex with a male human; on the wall was a readout NOW SERVING 90.
	“Dleep! And where is our resident cleep! nursemaid? Gleep!”
	“YES! Jleep! My bum is dirty vleep! and I need a cleaning!  Hleep!”
	The two slug-aliens continued their banter interrupting by their unusual hiccupping.  As they left the cargo bay one looked out the opening and the still fleeing human.
	‘Xleep! There was my chance to snu-snu!’

Naked and afraid
	Incoming Text from:  Field Agent Clavis
	Subject assoc. in desert jail
	Drunk and irrational in public
	Also naked
	Claiming alien abduction and rape by same
	Please advise
	End text

	Agent Onion stared at the text:  alien abduction?  rape?
	Junior Agent Ozzie was becoming a serious problem; a liability issue.
	And keeping the problem agent from Venger…
	Onion shuddered.  Life as it was was complicated enough.
	A portal to Hell?  Raped by demons?  Or being the setting of the southwest desert an alien abduction?  That wasn’t too far-fetched considering the evidence so far had been found—the alien crash site, the rash of unexplained “abductions” all over the world, alien spacecraft sightings—
	And the alien hooch the Agency was already involved in.
	Rape?
	Onion felt for the young agent—but only a little.
	Drunk in public?  Irrational?  It would stand to reason after being abducted by aliens AND raped.  Completely understandable.  Still…

	Incoming Text from Agent Orange:
	Pick up junior agent
	Retrieve vehicle
	Agent Hiroyuki Sinada enroute
	Return to base
	End text

	“Shit, piss, fuck, motherfucker!”
	Agent Rose sidewise glanced at her partner, “Problem?”
	“Our lives just got a little harder.”
	“Lemme guess,” she said with a snide, “we gotta go get the bastard out of jail?”
	“Yeah, get the truck, too.”
	“This could be fun.”
	“Hiro’s coming, too.”
	“Why?”
	“So he can “fix” the cops’ computer—no evidence of the arrest.”
	“He’s got a lot of explaining to do.”
	“Boss shouldn’t have brought him in in the first place.”
	“I’ll tell him you said that at our next meeting.”
	Clavis gave his partner a cold stare.
	She shuddered—and grinned.  She would NOT tell the Boss (Virus) anything.
	“Do you think he was actually abducted?  And raped?”
	Clavis stared out to the desert and the long desert road ahead of them.
	“Possible.”
	“He’s a loose cannon.”
	“Dangerous.”
	“He had potential.”
	“Had.”
	Rose mused, “He has no idea what he’s doing—but he’s really good at it.”

Anything for a friend
	“How is he?”
	“Sleeping.”
	“He say anything?”
	“Not a word.”
	Onion clenched himself; “We keep this to ourselves.”
	Present were Rocky, Chuckles, and the field agents Clavis, Rose, and Hiro.
	“No evidence?” Onion said looking to the computer expert, Hiroyukia.
	“All gone,” the colloquial Asian said, “no evidence of the arrest.”
	Onion sighed, nodded, “Thank you, thank you all.” he said in closing.
	The Agents departed and Onion walked around the conference room—muttering to himself.  He would have to report the news to Virus but he was already aware—just not to the extent (the alien abduction and extras.)  There was the video recovered of Ozzie’s earlier shit involving the kids; Logan, Kristy, Abby, Karlie, Megan, and Travis.  They were not in the ’55 when Ozzie was arrested—for driving 90 in a 65—and naked while doing so!  There was no sign of the kids; they had not been “recovered” and so it was deduced that they were perhaps still out in the desert?
	“My guess,” Clavis said (to Rose) if he really was abducted—”
	“So where are the kids?”
	“He said that the demons were butt fucking the male humans.”
	“What about girls?”
	“No mentioning of any girl sightings.”
	“What do you think?  He fucked up—in the head?”
	“Not sure,” Clavis drawled, “he either got a hold of some bad hooch, smoked something, oooorrrr—”
	“He really DID go to Hell, got fucked by Satan, —”
	“Or he got abducted by aliens.”
	“Why sodomizing human men for?”
	“Maybe the aliens got some bad hooch, too.  Who knows.”
	Rose sighed, yawned, “What’s the new plan?”
	“We did our part, we got him here.  We’re not babysitters.”
	Rose nodded.  Then,
	“What?”
	Clavis stifled a fart, sipped his wine, and had a strange look about him.
	“What are you thinking?” Rose asked—she was afraid to ask.
	“Well, we COULD go back to monitoring the high schoolers,”
	“Or?”
	“Or we could go investigate where Pundsum was.”
	Rose was adventurous (but not that adventurous.)

Feathery friends
	“What?”
	“Ozzie and Truck Five are missing.”
	Onion sighed deeply; as Second-in-Command it was his job to maintain the Agents of the house; emergency situations, health and welfare, paperwork of this kind and that, and so on.  Being in command had its perks—and headaches.
	“Is there a tracking device on that truck?”
	“Yes there is.” supplied Chuckles.
	“Where is he?”
	“According the GPS—he’s back out in the desert.”
	Onion closed his eyes (and clenched his fists.)
	“Where are Clavis and Rose?”
	“They’ve been contact—they are en route.”
	Rocky and Chuckles lingered a moment before exiting the meeting room.
	“Anything else?” Chuckles asked.
	Onion clenched himself, bowed his head and stared at the odd patterns in the blue carpeting.
	“Yes,” he said firmly, “no need to bring him back, just the truck.”
	His cold dark eyes met the other Agent conveying the unsaid.
	Chuckles nodded ‘got it.’ and left the room.

	Incoming Text from:  Agent C
	Subject:  Jr Agt O  DoA  Return vehicle only
	End text

	“Sonofabitch!”
	“Now what?  More good news?”
	“Not really.” Clavis showed his partner the text.
	“Son-of-a-bitch!”
	“Yeah.”
	Rose sighed, “Damn, he had potential.”
	“Had.”
	It wasn’t often that an Agent had to be terminated.  No, not often at all.

Little house follies
	His mind—not his own.  There were too many scenes he couldn’t make sense of.  He didn’t want to—then again, for his sanity—he did.  Where to begin, though?
	The desert.
	The road he turned on from the desert highway—was not the right one.  Instead, after a few miles he came upon a house.  A farm house.  No sign of the state’s big water transfer pipe.  No dry river; lots of hills, lots of flat land.  The farm house was off-grid; no power lines.  It was a self-sufficient home whereas the occupants were making a go of it without “power.”
	There were lots of goats, cows, horses, chickens—a farm.
	There was no vehicle to be noted.
	There was a large barn, a smaller barn, and some outbuidlings.
	Also, some laundry hung out on a line.
	Also, three young boys running amok were being chased by two girls.
	Ozzie watched them for a time—then slowly backed Truck 5 out of sight…

	Sixteen year old Mary had her hands full keeping stock of the younger siblings; her sister and brother were one thing but the triplets were another.  And the triplets had only been her “brothers” a short time—they were adopted.
	Thirteen year old Laura and fourteen year old Albert were always running about getting into mischief of this sort and that.  The addition of the triplets made it worse.
	Laura and Albert usually spent their days running off to fish, catch crawdads, pick flowers, try to get honey from a beehive, find old Indian arrowheads, and be gone the entire day.  Usually they got a good scolding; sometimes a whippin’.
	Josh, James, and Jack, eight years each, fell right in with the country life, no neighbors, and the freedom to be boys.  That meant the freedom to go naked.  They liked to streak all over and seldom got more than a scolding as they were “new.”
	Mary rolled her eyes as the boys one-two-three ran amok without their clothes on.  Laura was no help as she dashed about chasing them—she was clothed at least but there was the temptation to strip down to her skin, too.  Ma, though, would whip her and then when Pa got home he’d whip her, too!
	Suddenly, as Mary tried to chase down at least one of the boys then the others would fall in line, she saw a stranger.  He was at the fence, a lodge pole fence that encircled a bit o’ land and corralled the goats.  There was sparse vegetation about the landscape, mostly tall pines that offered some shade and relief from the oppressive heat.  Big ass boulders, craggy rustic hills occupied the rest of the space.  They were fifteen miles from the desert highway.
	And Pa was in town working at a wood mill—twenty-five miles away.
	“MA!” Mary yelled.
	Albert, chasing the boys in a so-so manner of “tag-your-it” stopped when at Mary’s side and saw the stranger, too.
	A not-too-haggard but worn “frontier” woman emerged from the typical 1880s style home wiping her hands on her well-worn and well used apron.
	“What is it, Mary?” she asked.
	When Mary looked to the fence where the stranger had been—he wasn’t there.
	Albert looked hard but didn’t see the stranger, either.
	“There was a man out there, by the fence.” she swore she saw someone there.  And with Albert, too, seeing the same thing…
	But there was no stranger and Ma (Carol Anne) shook her head turning to return inside the house.  Then,
	There was little control over the triplet boys and not much on fifteen year old Albert, either.  The girls, though…
	And their Ma.
	There was awareness among those who were electronically affected; they assembled in the house that was warm (figurative) trying to make sense of what was happening.  Albert, too, was concerned, confused, and only a little bit under the influence of Ozzie’s EMAD.
	Whacked out of his mind he said, “Let’s get the party started.”

	Carol Anne gasped as she suddenly found herself undressing after hearing a “voice” in her head “get undressed.”  The woman was fairly tall, six foot!  Slim build, auburn hair up in a loose bun with strands hanging loosely down into her face.  Dainty non-diamond earrings and the only finger ring was a wedding ring.
	Ozzie doubted that she had any tattoos.
	And he would be wrong!  When she stood up from lowering her purple panties there on her muffin for all to see was a tat of a snorting black stallion!  A snorting butterfly was on her right shoulder and a rearing unicorn (snorting) was on the left shoulder sporting a rather large schlong!
	Carol Anne!
	In her defense, those tats were acquired when she was younger—much-much younger in her “wild days.”
	The triplet boys one-two-three were in awe having never-ever seen a naked person other than themselves.
	Albert was stunned and tried-tried-tried not to look at his naked mother.
	Carol Anne stood facing her children and was genuinely petrified.
	Her petrification increased ten-fold when—
	Mary first, then Laura.  The girls slowly peeled off their clothing depositing their shirts and bras onto the floor firstly.  Mary wore a long man’s shirt as she had been wrestling hay bales and the hay itched her.  Nice creamy skin, nice full teenage titties; a lovely girl, those lips—eyes—smile!  The girl had nice hair, semi-styled, and small earrings to make her girlie.  She wore not-so-tight jeans; down they came and a quirky smile came to Albert’s face.
	Mary made a face.
	Laura sniveled as she undone her jeans pushing them down.
	Carol Anne looked around trying in vain to make sense of what was happening—and found the “stranger” staring at her.  She knew instantly the bastard had one of those damnedable contraptions—one of the reasons her husband had moved the family out to the desert-country (his sister and her daughter had been accosted by some jerk with one of those.)
	Mary stepped out of her jeans and panties.
	No tats on her.  A nice muffin, lightly trimmed of pubes, and quite possibly virginal.  A nice form that had the boys one-two-three-four (and counting Ozzie five!) attention.
	Laura was almost to tears as she slid her green tinted panties down.
	Ozzie made a minute adjustment to the EMAD in efforts to calm her.
	Mary and her mother seemed to be accepting.  Ozzie continued with the “party.”
	‘take off their clothes.’
	Mary hesitated—processing the command mostly.
	Laura’s mouth hung open and she required another “adjustment” that was more intent on “follow orders.”
	Carol Anne stood in shock watching her girls undress the boys.
	Mary Elizabeth went to eight year old Josh and pulled off his shirt.
	Josh, James, and Jack were totally mesmerized and blitzed.
	Laura Jane stripped off James and together they undressed Jack.
	At the time, none of the three lads had boners.  Not yet.
	Albert, however—did.  Albert was fifteen and both girls were tasked in undressing him.  He was nervous (and gassy).  As both his sisters peeled down his brown cords—he farted.  Sure, as a brother he made it a point to let one rip around his sisters—often.  The three new brothers giggled and were little fart masters themselves.  Mary was the most polite about passing gas, Laura tried not to let her parents hear her but she enjoyed ripping a butt blast trying to outdo the boys.
	With Albert’s pants down there was he was in his tidy-whiteys with a prominent “bulge” for all to see and wonder.  Sure, as a brother there was a fair amount of incestuous shenanigans going about but no sex.  Not yet.
	The kids’ hanky-panky consisted of seeing one another naked, blatant masturbating (Albert) and mutual masturbating/fingering (Albert, Mary, and Laura.)  No oral, no anal, no twatting.
	There was a want, too, though.  Both girls sort of kind of did want to suck their brother’s dick—sort of kind of.  JUST to see what it was like.  They were curious and that was a given.  To be honest, Carol Anne thought that they were already doing so!
	And of course, Albert very muchly wanted to FUCK his sisters.
	That was a given also and once more, Carol Anne was shocked to learn that they hadn’t already done so.
	With Albert’s underwear down—the girls stared up close and personal their brother’s schlong.  It was hard.  Perhaps the hardest it had ever been.  Ozzie instructed the girls to “play with it” and how.  The girls, though, already knew how…
	Mary squeezed Albert’s dong at the base and lightly went up and down with her small girlish hand.  She cupped his fuzzy nuggets then—THEN on further instruction (and a boost from Ozzie’s electronic module) she kissed the tip.
	Carol Anne let out a gasp.
	Mary Elizabeth diddled the piss slit, ran her tongue about the super sensitive crown, then pressed her lips over the head.  Down the shaft she went and Albert’s eyes rolled.  Brothers one-two-three stood (nakedly) watching in awe seemingly oblivious to the stranger among them.

	Mary was no pro at sucking dick but it didn’t matter.   Albert had never been sucked and so there was no comparison to a “pro” and a not-so pro.  Mary engulfed the whole thang (and didn’t even make a gag!)
	Then it was Laura’s turn.
	Laura was both curious and afraid.  There was fear, trepidation, and awe thrown in the mix.  She sucked her brother’s fuzzy nuggets first (as per command) then devoured Albert’s boner.
	Afterwards and…
	‘get on the table.’ The command was for Carol Anne.  She hesitated but the controlling effects of the EMAD compelled her.  Albert’s eyes were upon her.  She was beautiful—especially naked!  The frontier woman plopped herself on a table used for family discussions, craft making, and schooling—the family’s children were homeschooled.
	Laying down—as per command—Carol Anne was a true beauty.  Young Albert’s cock already stiffened from his sisters diligent sucking got even harder!  His eyes were locked onto his mother’s twat—a bit o’ sperm began to seep from his piss slit and it was clear that he was in agony.
	‘fuck her.’
	Albert held fast; mouth open, mind blasted.
	‘get…it…in her!’
	Albert didn’t fail to comprehend the electronically sent message but failed to move—until the stranger whipped him with a belt!  The girls shrieked in unison and Albert belted out a yeowl.  He moved to his mother, gulping and sweating and still exhibiting that agony.
	A dream cum true?  Slowly he entered the twat that had given him life fifteen years prior.  Carol Anne stared up to the exposed crossbeams, gritted herself, clung to the table, and “received” her son’s schlong.
	As soon as Albert was “in” all the way he began to pump.
	Mary held Josh and James to her nakedness; Laura held Jack to hers.  The boys one-two-three were a little confused but were scarcely confirmed by Ozzie’s EMAD.
	Albert pumped—and pumped—and pumped and pumped.
	Not a sound from anyone.
	Two minutes in and the teenager began to speed up—orgasm was close.
	Just because—Ozzie smacked the boy’s humping ass with the belt and asked, ‘does your Pa whip you—with a belt?’
	“Y-yes!” he answered as he entered that magical threshold of orgasm.
	Ozzie struck the boy again; his ass clenched tight from the pain as well as joy from the release of seminal fluids into his mother’s quim.  As the lad came Ozzie had his own schlong serviced by the wondrous mouths of the girls.
	Then, as Albert staggered backwards exhausted (and relieved in more ways than one) Ozzie took his turn.  And like the horsey woman, Belle, Carol Anne hadn’t had dick like Ozzie’s…ever!  Still, though…
	As Ozzie fucked the girls’ mother—the girls re-sucked their brother’s schlong.   	
	Try-try-try as she might—Carol Anne couldn’t shake the tremendous overwhelming sexual feeling seething thru her body.  Her eyes latched onto the wood beams above her as her body exploded in waves of euphoria never before experienced.  What a cock!
	When Ozzie finally pulled out—shooting an enormous load of spunk matter onto the woman’s cunt and belly area the woman still shivered from her own orgasm.
	Ozzie cast his disheveled eyes of now discernible color to Mary.
	“Get on her.” he said not using the EMAD.
	Puzzled and Ozzie filled her in; “get on yer Ma’s face!”
	It was awkward, it was weird, it was horrible.  There were many things in the world that Mary couldn’t imagine—sitting on her Ma’s face was one of them.  Then Laura was jerked up from her sitting-on-her-knees-sucking-her-brother’s- cock position to be pressed against the naked stranger’s body and harshly swatted with the belt motivating Mary to perch herself on her mother’s face.
	Laura rubbed hard her blistered ass; Albert looked as if though he were about to do something—until the stranger gave the teen a cold hard stare.  The little tykes one-two-three clung to one another shivering in fear and sniveling.  They knew now that something wicked was going on.
	Way more than weird and way more than anything Mary could imagine she squatted down onto her mother’s face.
	“Lay down.”
	Then she laid down her mother’s body.
	Ozzie caressed the girl’s ass, parted the cheeks and finger fucked the girl’s virgin poop chute.  Beneath and Carol Anne weeped.
	“Get over here, boy!” Ozzie said firmly.
	Timidly and Albert made his way—his cock leading the way.

	“Lick her hole.”
	Albert was stunned—never had ever imagined doing that!  But the snap of the belt and the stranger saying “It’ll be on the girls’ ass if you don’t!”
	Not wanting his sisters to suffer because of him—Albert tongued Mary pooper.
	“Now fuck it.”
	You coulda knocked the boy over with a bulldozer and he wouldn’t of known.  He stared across his sister’s bare back all the way across the small living room to the exposed wooden wall.  Then, slowly, he applied his cock to Mary’s turd way and steadily made full anal entry.
	The boy began to pump; Ozzie pumped, too—his cock!  He beckoned Laura over and she commenced to fondling his ball, her brother’s swinging balls, and suck-suck-sucking on Ozzie’s schlong.  And as Albert pumped he occasionally got the belt across his ass.
	Finally he came—four minutes later.  Pulling out and his dick was coated in fecal matter.  Ewewew!  Sperm drizzled out of Mary’s hole and trickled down onto her mother’s distraught face.
	Ozzie was ready to fuck—so he did.  Mary gasped as the bigger-than-her-brother’s dong entered her pussy.  She was a virgin—kinda.  Fingers, her sister’s fingers, a banana, and under duress—goat dick.  Goat dick?  Ooooooh!
	Both girls utilized hot dog wieners to simulate a boy’s dick.  Well!  Don’t we all!  Mary grunted as the cock invading her brought her to new heights of pleasure (and discomfort) she had never known.  Her mind blanked and then went ballistic as waves of incredible orgasms flooded her—inside and out and in and out and in…
	Ozzie emptied his balls and a gusher of cum drenched Carol Anne’s face.
	Albert had washed his cock; upon his return he fucked Laura’s ass.
	Mary slid off of her mother and the both got off the table and then bent over the back of a crappy blue country style sofa.  As Albert ploughed his sister Laura’s cornhole—his mother and sister Mary were spanked (with the belt.)
	“As soon as you cum I’ll stop.”
	Having just cum—and then again—cumming a third time was a booger.
	Carol Anne and Mary screamed as their bare skin was stricken.
	Ozzie stroked his cock harder—and something wicked deep within him began to stir.  He lashed the two until he himself got tired—and just before bringing the blood to their asses.  Albert got his nuts off and was exhausted.
	It was then the triplets’ turn.
	Laying on her back on the sofa with her mother and sister still bent over the back watching; Josh, James, and Jack fucked their sister—one at a time.  First the boys stood up straddling their naked funked out sister to get a blowjob from their mommy and sister.  Carol Anne was very stricken with grief—and pain.  She sucked Josh while Mary slurped on James.  Jack was serviced by Laura.
	Then Josh got on his naked freaking out sister and she helped guide his wee-wee into her where a wiener and a banana had only gone before.  As the boy pumped he was lightly smacked with the belt.
	Carol Anne noted the man’s eyes—there was evil behind those eyes—pure evil.  It hadn’t been there in the beginning but it was there now.  Josh got to fuck for a little over a minute.  James enjoyed two minutes of fucking and Jack got a minute.

The Devil’s seed
	A little out of her mind (no, a LOT out of her mind) Mary was taken out of the remote county home along with her sister.  Laura herself was not too much of having much of her mind left—still, though, she tried to fight—and got smacked on her ass HARD for her doing so.
	At the barn’s attached corral and Ozzie sized up the situation.  It was “play it by ear” or in this case—sight.  Sighting on the one horse the family had and Ozzie had a devious deviant plan.
	The girls stood motionless (well, Laura rubbed her blistered ass) as Ozzie hobbled the brown horsey with a typical white splotch on his forehead.  A nearby feed bin contained some fruits to soothe the big animal; a tether kept him from swinging his big head.  Then, a hay bale was placed underneath the horse (named Aristo).  Mary then was placed on the bale of hay; her arms and legs tied upwards about the horse’s body.  Laura then was motivated (‘do it or I’ll spank you until you bleed!’) to jack off the horse.  More specifically to masturbate the horse with his big horsey dick in Mary’s twat.
	Mary twisted, begged, pleaded, screamed—more so when Laura’s efforts got the horsey dick into her well fucked cunt.  Laura was out of her mind; crying, sniveling, blubbering.  Ozzie smacked her ass and threatened her with a severe beating.  Laura masturbated Aristo until finally the big animal ejaculated.
	“OH GROSS!” exclaimed Laura.
	You aint seen nothing yet!
	Mary remained tied to the horse; her pussy filled with horse cum.  Laura was dragged to the family’s one goat, Plato.  While Laura cringed, curled up on the ground in a fetal position, Ozzie hobbled the goat’s feet, fed it some treats, tied it’s big scruffy head to the wooden fence, then wrestled with Laura fixing her to whereas she had to SUCK the goat’s dick.
	Naturally she threw a fuss.
	Naturally she was whipped.
	Darkness was coming and soon the daddy would be returning.
	Ozzie didn’t care—he had plans for him, too, if he should.
	Meanwhile, with Ozzie’s cock embedded up Laura’s cornhole, the distraught girl sucked on Plato’s goaty dick.  The goat didn’t seem to mind too much and made bleating sounds indicating pleasure.  Laura?  Not so much.

	And after several long minutes of suck-suck-sucking the hapless teen was positioned underneath the animal on her hands and knees.  Ozzie helped guide the goat’s dick into Laura’s pussy.  The girl freaked out.  Ozzie tied the girl to the goat’s body; a rope about her neck to the underside of Plato; a rope under her arms and waist that then went up around the animal and there she was.
	Returning to Mary and the girl languished in her torment.
	Ozzie urinated on her—on her face—before returning to the house.
	Inside and the triplet boys he had used a special glue that glued the boys’ bottoms together and their hands to one of their brothers’ ass, too.  They were a little scared, frightened, and upset.  Albert was glued and tied to his mother, his cock in her pussy.
	Ozzie paused a moment then stuck the boy’s ass with his cock and thoroughly sodomized him.  It was quite a scene—Albert on top of his mother, his cock in her pussy and then the stranger behind him fucking his asshole!  Then, when Ozzie got his rocks off he stuck a branding iron he had brought with him from the barn.
	There was no alcohol to be had so Ozzie helped himself to some juice and found the pot of stew satisfying.  By the time his belly was full the branding iron was JUST RIGHT!  Ozzie, firstly, though, peed on Albert’s ass and his mother’s twat.  The boy’s legs, tied to his mother’s legs, were spread.  The legs then were tied to furniture to keep the legs open as they lay on the floor.
	The branding iron was blazing red hot and pressed to Albert’s bare pissed on ass.
	The scream and the stench of burnt flesh was incredible.
	The girls outside in their dire predicament heard the scream and knew that something wicked had happened.  Albert thrashed about so that his cock came out of his mother’s poon.  Ozzie applied the branding iron to the woman’s cunt and watched in some bizarre amusement as the mother and son thrashed about the floor.
	With all of Albert’s thrashing, as the branding iron was applied to Carol Anne’s cunt—the iron also brushed Albert’s balls sending him into a thrash to beat all.
	It further amused Ozzie; he stuffed the branding iron back into the fire and looked to the now terrified triplets.

	With darkness upon the landscape the day was done.  So was the stranger.  He left the way he had come—in a whisper.  He made his return to his stuck ’55; it was still stuck.  Climbing inside, opening windows open only he snoozed.  Tomorrow would be another adventure.