August Moone
Book 2
Roadtrips and Sidetrips
Chapter 17
No Jack, but a lot of Beanstalk

	The most discernible thing noticed about the experience was the total lack of feeling.  It was assumed that the senses were whacked; no sense of smell, no sight, no hearing and definitely no feeling.  All that WAS felt was a tremendous headache.  There were flashes of brilliant bright light--like from lightning or a welder’s torch.
	Slowly, creeping up the body was the sensation of a million tiny pin pricks, frozen pin pricks pricking the body.  It was the beginning of “feeling”.  There was a stiffness that was annoying; the teeth hurt, eyes, head, and even her hair.
	It felt as though Charlotte’s eyes were glued or taped shut, she struggled to open them but no-go.  At length she gave it a rest, no use fighting it.  She tried settling down and focusing.  Her most recent memories were awash in a sea of churning foam.  There were images of peoples, places, and things--none of which congealed enough to give her solace.  
	She suddenly saw Mr. Beaver.  The puffy balding man with a ring of white hair going off in all directions, a Santa Claus-like beard untrimmed and equally going in all directions.  He was speaking but his words were muffled, in his huge puffy hands he wielded his pointing stick, smacking it against the green wall were his scribblings of mathematical equations and formulae.
	But to get thru the Communications Program at AU it was a necessary evil.  There were a lot of “necessary” evils at the university campus, joining up in a sorority, what boys were cool, who were jerks.  The entire Jock club, half of the faculty, getting a job, knowing who were friends and who were backstabbing bitches.
	“Ms. Carlise--are you with us?”
	Mr. Beaver’s voice echoed into her mind, there was an ice cream social at Sigma Phi, Joannie Johnson had told her there was an opening at Marshall’s, Donna Falkur told her that Jimmy Schitz was “interested” in her.
	“Ms. Carlie.” the voice repeated, he was standing right at her desk, bearing down on her, his pudgy belly, he would be better suited as a big elf, a Viking, something like that rather than a university math professor. 
	“Charlotte?”
	His face suddenly began to distort.  She tried focusing in on him but couldn’t.  He seemed to be “dissolving!”  Charlotte reared back in angst.
	“Charlotte!  Charlotte!  It’s alright, calm down.”
	The voice sounded familiar, but she wasn’t sure.  She tried focusing again, but paranoia and other aspects of fright seethed through her.  From around the shimmering dissolving form of Mr. Beaver there seemed to be a segue to a greenish light.  It faded into several forms of green, all the shades.  She saw numbers and algorithms floating about in mid air--God, she was hallucinating!  Those fucking bitches at Gamma had slipped her a mickey after all!
	“Charlotte!  Come on, girl, it’s alright, you’re with me.”
	“Me?  Me who?”
	“August.  It’s me, I know it’s a little scary, but you’re with me and it’s going to be alright.”  sort of.

	His face.  A little too tanned by the sun, graying at the temples, thin faced, in need of a haircut.  His eyes, soft colored that were mysteriously dark (though they used to be blue.)  A slight mustache, a day’s growth on his otherwise adorable face.
	“Where--what the--” she couldn’t complete her fragment sentence, she rolled over and hurled.
	After “hurling” she noted that sand she had hurled in was green.
	Everything was green.  She looked out to the “sea” and IT was green, there was green foam on the waves crashing onto the shore, the horizon was black, but everything else was green.
	“August!” she whirled to look at him.  
	“Hi there!” 
	She wanted to slap him, and almost did.  “Son-of-a-bitch!” she bitched.
	There was a forest, er rather a jungle up from the green sandy shore, it was green.  The palm trees, shrubs, and even the rocks & boulders.  All green.  Etched on the trees and rocks were numbers, equations, diagrams of mathematical symbols.
	She looked to August, “Wanna explain this?”
	He’d love to, if only he knew himself.
	“Feeling better?” he asked.
	Charlotte squeezed her eyes tight, she wasn’t too sure, this was just too damn weird.  Her ears had a ringing in them, her hair still hurt, above that she couldn’t tell much else.  “Where are we?”
	“Ah, the question.” he didn’t know himself, even after his own experience tripping through time.  “Well, the best I figure it is it’s an In Between World, a go between of Multiple Parallel Universes.”
	Charlotte gave him the blank stare.  ‘Great, now what’s the REAL answer?’
	He offered her a smile, Charlotte was still not amused.
	“Uh, actually, I don’t know.” he said honestly.  “But it--it has to do with--”
	“With what?”
	“The Device.  It-it seems to have the ability to--” and he trailed off.
	“To what?”
	August was in a thought of his own.  He got a little pale and seemingly nervous.  He closed his eyes, this was not what he intended when he had sent for Charlotte.  He had hoped rather than with the Device she/it would be able to bring him out and all would be well.
	Not so.
	She was now trapped in the Transition Parallel as was he.
	With a long pissed off sigh he nodded his head, “Somewhere in there is a cave.”
	“And?”	
	“And it’s where we go to--to find our Destiny.” he smiled again.
	Charlotte was ready to slug him.  “You’re kidding, right?”
	“’fraid not, love; in the cave there’s a way in which to go on an adventure, when the venture is completed we come back--”
	“Back to where?  Here or back--back wherever the hell we came from?”
	Charlotte didn’t grasp the concept of trans-mind-portation.  August didn’t have a firm grip on it himself.  But it was a little like being on drugs (good mind tripping drugs)--take a trip and never leave your home!  The Device was the “drug”, inducing a sidetrip of  their adventure like know other.
	“This is--”
	“A little more than you bargained for?” to quip an old cliché.
	Charlotte didn’t answer, she looked into the jungle, then back out to the green sea.  She couldn’t see very far, the horizon seemed awfully close.
	“It’s a small universe.  Small and contained.  A go-between to other realms.”
	Charlotte still looked at him with a blank look.  August smiled back at her, collected her hand and stood up, pulling her along.  They were naked.  She wanted to ask, but didn’t.  They strolled into the thick “green” jungle.

                                                   Meanwhile….

	It had been two hours and not a peep.  Two hours and no sign of movement.  They were still breathing, but that was all.  An occasional eye flutter, but nothing more.  He shook Charlotte’s leg, fondled her breasts then dragged his penis against her lips.  Nothing.
	Down came her panties, he fingered her and then slipped his penis into her, she was August’s bitch, and August primarily doinked her--but she was submissive to allow Gunther a play.  Would she mind being doinked by the diabolical man while she was unconscious?
	Gunther didn’t care.  He fucked Charlotte, sucked on her breasts, pushed her legs back and poked his way up her backdoor.  Nothing.
	It was a very dangerous situation, in more ways than one.  Gunther had no idea if the two would come back from “wherever they were.”  A lot of stuff could happen when a person’s unconscious.  Good thing Gunther liked August…

	Would they need to be fed, watered, other?  Another hour ticked by, still nothing.  He didn’t know about them but he knew that he was bored.  Getting back to the rest stop wasn’t going to happen, not easily anyways.  The interstate was loaded with Feds, National Nosey Guard, and other authorities figures from several branches.  The bus incident had been a dousy, one that wasn’t going to go away easily until every rock and scumbag had been looked at carefully.
	The backcountry woodsy town Gunther and August had come into was small, from the onset, but the town was hidden, a building here, one over there, another back over there.  It was spread out.  With no idea how long August & Charlotte would be “out” Gunther decided to set up shop, he worried a little about those left at the reststop and made a point to check in on them daily.  By week’s end with Alice driving the mega RV they came to the small town, accompanied by Ted Dawson and his family.
	A Brief Report from Ara Lee:
	Spy Games (at the Rest Stop)
	Ara Lee, like Charlotte, had been curious about the Dawson family, and being rather small in size, and watching a LOT of James Bond type movies, she used her own stealth to spy.  She didn’t have the Device abilities, but she was able to see Ted porking his wife and the two young girls just the same.  
	Out in the open, in a lush meadow beyond the reststop Ara chanced upon Ted seriously grinding into young Harriet while Jamie rode his mother!  Ara was pleased, August would be pleased.  She didn’t know what had happened to August, or Gunther, but was assured by Charlotte that the two men were on an “adventure” of the serious narly kind.  ‘nuff said, Ara Lee understood and let it be.
	After seeing the Dawson family “involved” in one another, Ara thought it nice if the dashing geekoid man would join them.  The entire Dawson family would be a nice addition, August always said, “More the merrier!”
	Careful planning ensued and soon Ted Dawson cast his eyes on Ara Lee while she was being humped by Logan while she sucked off on eight year old Jackie.  In the same area lay Kristy with her legs spread, butt bare assed naked with Mary Anne on top of her eating out her muff.  In the shade of a great boulder little Charlotte bounced on the lap of teenage heartthrob Brock, his 14 yr old cock buried nicely up into the six year old’s asshole.
	Ted and Jamie got to “spy” on all the August crew, Alice and her son Tommy; Alice in a doggy-style position, slurping on Chip’s dick while Tommy pegged her from behind.
	Come the evening type time Ara came to the Dawson’s RV, they were sitting outside while the interstate beyond was at a virtual shut-down while some investigation was being conducted.  Ara didn’t come alone.  She brought along her daughters Claudia and Megan, Jackie and Courtney, too.
	Once introduced and the “friendly” chit-chat going, Ara held eight year old Courtney on her lap.  Courtney wore a shortie-kiddie dress, no undies.  After a few enduring minutes Ara began opening the child’s legs.  Claudia had Jackie on her lap, and when Mr. Dawson was looking, Claudia had her hands between the boy’s legs, fondling him.  
	Jamie occupied Megan’s lap, she blatantly caressed his slightly pudgy body, rubbing his thighs, cooing to him, pressing her breasts into his backside.  At length she took his hand to reach between them to whereas he got grope her.
	No alarm was there from Joanne.  She sat quiet and still, smiling and looking/appearing as normal as possible, just not a big conversationalist.  After just a few moments Ted was noted to being “aroused.” he looked upon the actions of Ara Lee opening the eight year old’s legs, his son Jamie feeling out Megan.  Ara stood up and hefted Courtney along, she came up to the tall distinguished man she barely knew, holding Courtney’s legs up for his viewing.
	And he did view.
	He stared right into Courtney’s love muffin.  With timid fingers he caressed the bald well fucked poon, he closed his eyes and made an audible sound of pleasure.  There WERE other motorists in the area, Ara nodded to the Dawson’s RV and they went inside.
	Courtney was laid out on the rear bed, she herself removed her dress.  Ara noted that in a closet by the bathroom, Vikki was within.  She was nude, and her eyes were closed.  
	Ara turned her attention back to the geeky Ted, she wrapped her arms about him from behind, then reached down to undo his fly.  Ted sweated, this was kinda unheard of.  But he let the strange Asian woman do her thing--which was to unleash HIS thing.
	On the bed lay Courtney.  A sweet heart of a girl, all of eight years young, long flowing dark brown hair, a long jaw line, very pretty young thing, and revealing the signs of having had sexual intercourse.
	Ted’s cock was stroked lovingly in Ara Lee’s hand, she clutched his balls and tugged on his cock until he could barely stand it.  Courtney herself reached out and took a holt of Ted’s cock, squeezing the member and tugging on it, tugging it to come onto her.
	And so he did.  He slipped completely out of his clothes and mounted the young child, dragging the head of his cock against her.  Ara herself undressed and Ted slipped the head of his cock into Courtney’s cunt.
	Outside Megan risked it by removing her top.  She then removed chubby Jamie’s shirt.  She pressed her nude breasts into his cool lily white skin.  Jamie was all kinds of hard.  All kinds.
	Megan fondled Jamie’s organ, unzipping the boy’s pants and taking out his bone.  Megan fondled and caressed.  Jamie’s eyes rolled backwards and he too made an audible sound of pleasure.  Then, like Ara and Ted, Megan and Jamie moved into the RV to be unseen.
	Jamie put it to Megan on the front bed/couch.  He was at the point of orgasming when his father began to rock the RV.  Ara Lee began spanking him, she could be seen laying on the bed on her side furiously friggin’ her Chinese box while American Ted humped Courtney.

	Gunther was relieved that the roadblocks lightened up, it was assumed whoever had shanghaied Bus 124 was out of the area.  There were no clear descriptions of those involved in the bus/kidnapping, nor just how many there were involved.  Alice maneuvered thru the roadblocks, Ted coming up behind and followed Gunther.  Gunther was chummy with the local police, he was not looked at twice.  Alice driving the mega RV was looked at twice, but the backup of travelers and the FEDS seriously doubting the perps were still local, she eased on as well.
	Gunther kept to himself what had happened as well as the status of August and Charlotte.  The mega RV was parked just to one side in an open area by a church.  There was plumbing and all set up for RVing, Ted pulled his rig up along side and waited for the next event.
	Only a few questions were asked about Alice and her rather large family.  Typical stuff, but Alice was a good sport and from New Jersey, she knew how to “snow” someone.  The church peoples were well enough snowed.  Ted’s wife Joanne lightened up and became more lively.  All of August group eased into the town’s society, a security measure August really wouldn’t have approved of--someone just might get too nosey and recognize someone as one of the posted “missing”.  
	Gunther and Alice had a time when they found the “missing” fliers in the local post office.  Very subtly Alice and Ara made “changes” to the group, only a small portion of them were allowed out at a time anyways--but not knowing how long their stay was to be keeping them cooped up in the RV just wasn’t practical.
	One fine morning it came to be that Gunther noted a man emerging from the Church.  It was one of those small town churches, there were actually three of them in the town.  This one in particular was a non-denom.  It had an average gathering of 100 or so.  The town’s population varied on almost a weekly basis--peoples fed up with the big city life moving in or the peoples fed up with dreary small town affairs moving out; but in general there was an average of 2,500 peoples (scattered.)
	Bright sunshine, crisp early morning.  There was a choir singing, in the newly cemented parking lot there were cars from as far back as the 40s to as new as the present.  Pickups, too.  New, used, well used, and on their death bed used.  A pair of motorcycles off to one side.  Gunther noted that it wasn’t a “rich” church, no one was really too well off.  He also noted the man coming out of the church was not alone, he was in the company of two young girls.
	Gunther’s interest was piqued.  (naturally)  He had to investigate.  Natch.

                                              Meanwhile I

	No breezes, hardly any sensations other than the bland touch of the thick dense vegetation and the ground beneath their feet.  This was an experience for sure.  How many more would there be with this man, this man called August Moone?
	They made their way steadily thru the growth until finally coming to a stream of water.  The water, yes, was green.  So were the fishes in it.  The rocks, the sand, the clover on the banks, and yea, even the moss.
	They followed the stream up to a huge pool, or rather a pond.  A waterfall there was, pouring down from several landings all totaling some 100 feet.  Even the water was lifeless, no sensation of cold or hot or even anything in between.  It was an odd sensation of “wet.”
	August stood on the small bank.
	“You mentioned something about a “cave” here?”
	August nodded, collected her hand again and moved silently along the bank until coming to where they had to get into the pool.  To Charlotte it seriously messed with her mind, there was supposed to be the awareness of wet.  But there wasn’t.  There was nothing.  August pulled her along making along the rocky side of the waterfall.
	Beyond the waterfall there was a hole, a cave entrance.
	A short distance down a seemingly damp environment and they emerged into an illuminated area measuring some 1oo feet in circumference.  There were ridges like an amphitheatre seating structure would have, it descended downwards to a central object--a fountain.
	August held his pose at the entrance to the room, Charlotte said nothing to disturb his thoughts.  This gave Charlotte a little more time to look about and take in the strange new place.  She noted that there were dark areas to the interior of the cave, these dark areas soon came to her as being doors.  No actual “door” per se, no covering, but an opening of some sort.  Of some sort.  There were several of these, spaced unevenly around the room.
	At length August moved down the sitting/steps to the fountain.  It burbled several shades of green, but mostly lime and brilliant green.  There was a pulsing from the gurgling waters, Charlotte could barely make out the sounds of such, she had to shield her eyes as the brilliance of the green hurt her.
	She backed up to mid way back up the sitting-steps, the brilliance of the pulsing green light seemed to be overflowing the fountain.  Was this a good thing.  August she could no longer see.  She began to grow a little frightened.  “August?” she called out.
	No response.  
	“AUGUST!?” she called out a little sterner.
	Suddenly she was grabbed and yanked.  The pulsing light suddenly began to increase in volume--both in noise and light.  Over the deafening roar she heard “HOLD ON!” so she did.

	It sounded like the time she had been led under the railroad trestle with Jimmy Hoon; there they had shucked their clothes and “frolicked.”  There was a canal running under the trestle, it sloped down to be quite deep and was unsafe to swim in--but they did anyways, they were kids and it was what kids did.
	At thirteen years young Charlotte had already endured a few sexual romps, nothing overly major, but she was no prude and very wise on the topic of “making out.”  After a brief dip in the waters murky and green Jimmy coaxed her up to the point of where the slope met the creosote wood timbers.  The smell was a lingering one even after all the passages of time.
	Jimmy seemed to be up to something.  Charlotte figured that much.  She mostly figured the horndog simply wanted to fuck her.  They were nude and he could easily doink her if he wanted, but he was her age and scrawny and she would kill him if he tried--without her permission.
	“Stay here.” he said to her.  Charlotte rolled her eyes, she curled up in a sitting fetal position, butt bare assed naked, Jimmy scurried off and disappeared up to the top.  He was gone just a few minutes before coming back down, grinning widely.
	“What?” Charlotte had asked him.
	Jimmy shrugged it off, “Nothin’, I just placed a penny on the tracks in case a train comes.”  Charlotte stared at him, she hated it when boys played “games.”  She sighed and let it go, Jimmy began to “play” with himself.  Charlotte herself was not really “in the mood.”  She hated being around her strict domineering parents so the opportunity to be off somewhere’s else was good for her.  She knew ultimately that she would probably spread her legs for Jimmy.  That was no biggie.
	She checked Jimmy as he roughed up his pud, it was long, thick, and pulsating.  She hadn’t had sex with Jimmy, not yet.  She had done a couple other boys from their class, but not Jimmy, not yet.
	Jimmy stopped jerking his gherkin and lay back, panting, it was something like a “come on, finish it” plea.  Charlotte lightly frigged her cunny; at home she tried to cum when her parents drove up in the drive way and she was in her upstairs bedroom masturbating.
	She liked cumming.  Not a lot of her girlfriends in her social discussed “cumming.”  They all knew that BOYS came, but it was seldom discussed about girls doing likewise.
	She felt the urge to pee, but held that back.  There was a stirring in her loins, she knew there were risks in having sex with boys; they could give you some lame disease or worse yet--knock you up.  One girl in the class already had dropped out--specific reasons were unknown but the rumors had it she got pregnant and … history.
	Her pussy tingled.  She bit her lip, thought about it, thought some more.  It was unlikely that Jimmy had a condom.  She knew that she didn’t.  A penny?  Where did he have a penny?  Boys.  They were so lame.
	She looked (ogled?) his cock.  It seemed a bit bigger than the boys she had already been with.  She wasn’t a slut, but wasn’t a prude, either.  The more she looked and thought about it, and the fact that SHE would be on top, she became intrigued.  She moved and crawled on top of him, setting down on his erection.
	Jimmy wasn’t amused, he was strictly the Missionary-type person.
	But it was her way or no way.
	Jimmy was for experiencing new positions.  As long as he got laid, whatever position it was didn’t matter.  Charlotte eased up her hips, his hands clamped onto them and his cock slid almost effortlessly into her cunny.  Jimmy almost came as soon as she was seated onto him.  Charlotte felt pretty good and began bucking on him.  Jimmy latched onto her breasts and seemed preoccupied with tweaking the nipples.
	At length they began to fuck.  Charlotte humping, sliding up and down his shaft until at last she grew tired and rolled to her side.  They continued fucking but it was awkward.  She finally relented to the Missionary and Jimmy mounted and began fucking her in earnest.
	Just when the pivotal point of extreme pleasure began to seethe through them both equally, Charlotte (being that she was now on her back like a slut) felt a trembling in the earth.  At first she passed it off as being a part of the lovemaking experience.
	But then the trembling increased.
	The trembling increased exponentially to the point of frightening the young teen.  Jimmy continued to pound the beejusus out of her, not letting up his dynamic fuck spree.  Charlotte had to admit the experience was pretty intense--Jimmy DID have by far the best cock she had fucked.  Charlotte grabbed onto Jimmy’s smooth white sweaty ass and bucked back into.
	Suddenly there was a terrible rumbling that grew beyond exponent power.  The ground shook as well as the timbers above them.
	Son-of-a-bitch!  It was a train!
	Jimmy fucked madly as the train rumbled deafening o’erhead, Charlotte was freaking and petrified.  With the engine of the train gone and just the cars traveling, Charlotte did manage to calm down.  She also came.  It was a righteous orgasm, Jimmy had one himself.

	The deafening roar.  It was like that train, but instead of being simply over her head, it was in surround sound, rumbling all about her.  Her skin tingled, her hair and teeth, too.  She clung to the form she hoped was August.  The rumbling increased to the point that Charlotte was screaming.
	And like the last car of the train clacking down the track, dissipation.
	She could still hear it, mostly in her mind.  She was lathered in sweat.  She continued to cling to August, no more of a “squeezing” than clinging.  The rumbling finally was silenced and August said, “You can open your eyes, now.”
	Slowly she did so.  She remembered to breath, too.  Her eyes were blurred, but she saw shapes--no jungle shapes, but others.  Nothing was too clear, but she felt a brief breeze, she smelt scents.  Her vision slowly gave her insight that they were now someplace else.
	“Charlotte?  I think you can let go of me, now.”
	Slowly she did so.  She wanted to slug him.  ’What the fuck have you gotten me into now!?’
	August didn’t seem to know himself, he looked around his new surroundings:  some sort of mystical forest, there was the scent of grass, but all there was about them was tall slender trees.  Tress unlike any they had ever seen before.  They were green, but not like the green of the jungle she had first encountered.  
	There was sunshine streaming down.  That was a plus.  The forest was thick and was more like the leaves of seaweed out in the ocean.  The trees had no trunks, or at leastways no trunks like they had ever seen.  They were perhaps not trees after all but some sort of other foliage.
	Anyways, they were someplace else.  August took her hand and they strolled nakedly through the new forest.

	Something new came up; it was wood.  It was with blue trim along its edges, it had a hole in the middle of it.  It measured some twelve foot square.  August stared at the object for a moment, tapped his fingers and then explored.
	“What?” Charlotte quipped curiously.
	August shrugged, shook his head, “Ah, nothing.” and then they went on.
	They came upon a long length of log.  It was straight, perfect, cylindrical, and blue.  Blunted ends, too.  August looked over his shoulder from whence they had come.
	“Something?” Charlotte chirped.
	“Nothing.” August replied.
	They went on--encounter a creature just moments later.
	It was--an ant.  On steroids.  Some SERIOUS steroids.  It was about 1 million times its normal size.
	“Sweet sorry son-of-a-bitch!”  August blurted.
	The ant stood menacingly before them, being some six foot from ground to great brown bulbous head.  Its antennae twitched and it made a curious chirping sound.
	“Don’t move.” August warned.
	“Don’t worry.” Charlotte replied.
	It was a stand off, for a few minutes anyhow.  Some sort of noise distracted them all and the ant fled.
	Charlotte stared to August, “Wanna explain this one, or shall I wait until the movie comes out?”
	August gave her a half hearted smile, patted her bare rear and pulled her along.  He had no idea where they were, what time period, nothing.  Nothing to do but explore it out and wait for the “trip back.”

	They came upon a structure, a cylindrical object sticking up out of the ground stretching high up into the air.  It was silver in color, cold steel, several feet around.  August stared up and saw wires high above at the top.
	Wires?  Hmmmm, a phone pole?
	Another large block of wood they came to and another wooden pole (red).  The block August stared at; there was a design painted on the large object.
	“Three.” Charlotte said in a whisper.
	“What?”
	“It’s the number three, turned backwards.”
	August concurred.  It WAS the number three, backwards.  August definitely got a bad feeling about the whole situation.	
	They then came to a large glass object, it was on it’s side and reeked of something awful.  There was a small pool of liquid within, August and Charlotte quickly made their way passed it and came up a much larger structure.  A wall.  A cobblestoned wall partially concealed with what August took to be ivy.
	“I got a bad feeling about this.” he whispered to himself.
	Charlotte suddenly shrieked, August turned to look at what caused her to shriek so--it was not one ant, not two, not even three, but as many as EIGHT ants on steroids.
	“What’ll we do?”
	August looked left, there was mud and swamp-like conditions along the edge of the wall, getting stuck there would be some serious bad news.  Going back out into the “forest” wasn’t so hot an idea, they’d get lost and it was the ants’ territory.
	One option was left.
	“You’ve got to be kidding!” bitched Charlotte.
	“Make like Jack and climb!”
	Charlotte grabbed onto the ivy stalk and began following August up the wall.
                                               Here We Go Again

	The man appeared to be nervous, a pleasant man with slightly balding go on topside.  A short sleeved dress shirt, cowboy dress boots, wedding ring, well groomed, and shifty.
	In his company there were two young girls, incredibly cute--especially the youngest who was no more than five.  The other was no more than eleven.  The older girl had a blue dress that was thin and loose fitting, white stockings, blue matching ribbons in her light brown ultra curled hair.  She had Italian features, dark eyes, a sweet smile.
	Her young sibling was blond hair, small tiny teeth, missing one in the front.  Green eyes and matching dainty emerald earrings.  A green dress that was short and cutesy.
	The girls were escorted by the man, Gunther determined that they were more than likely his granddaughters.  They moved thru the parking lot to the far side to a late model van conversion.  The girls seemed happy and contented and not frightened.
	Gunther lost sight of them as they went to the door side of the dark purple van.  Gunther stealthfully moved to get a better position and viewing aspect.  With him he had his hi-tech binoculars normally mounted on a .30-06.  He could safely lay in the rough to the one side of the church area unseen and undetected and peer in on the man who risked exposure himself.
	The side door had been closed, but Gunther was peering thru the front windshield.  There were sun glistening problems, but with the proper tints to the scope sight those were defeated and Gunther was privy to the narliness that was illicit.
	A roof vent was cracked and Gunther saw the Subject on his knees.  Directly before him was the oldest girl, her dress was hiked up over her waist and her white panties down just passed her dainty white ass.  The girl leaned down and helped undo her grandfather’s slacks.  She fished out his penis herself and worked it--it was already fairly stiff.  And seemingly on her own she placed her mouth to the bulbous tip and began to engulf.
	The Subject eased his cock into his granddaughter’s mouth, all the while lightly fingering the other girl who lay on her back with her legs back.  Her green panties up at her knees where her tiny young hands held them back.  The Subject ran his finger up and down the child’s young cunny, Gunther was unable to see if the child was a virgin, too much stuff in the way, including the Subject.
	Soon the Subject began to cum, he flexed and pumped harder and faster into the eleven year old’s mouth.  The girl gripped her grandfather’s cock and sucked him until her young mouth was filled with his jiz.
	He pumped until he was empty, smearing his juices onto her beautiful young face.  Gunther couldn’t tell if whether the young girl “swallowed” or not.  She was smiling, though.  She sat up and wiped her mouth (and face).  The Subject peered down at the other one, fondling his dong all the while.	The older girl then helped move the younger one “into place.”  Her panties were removed and the older sibling took over holding her sister’s legs back.  The Grandfather went down and slipped a finger into the child’s anus, his tongue licked out her young adorable cunny.  Gunther still couldn’t tell if she were a virgin…
	Gunther had to move, he couldn’t see the child in question, not the part that he wanted to anyways.  By the time he got repositioned the Subject was creaming onto the young girl’s cunny.  If there had been any penetration Gunther had missed it.
	The older girl came down and licked up the mess spilled on her sister as well as sucking clean her grandfather’s cock.  When done her dress was pulled off by her grandfather, she was mostly flat chested, but there were “mounds” enough to fondle and grope.  The grandfather did so and after the little one had rolled out of the way the two moved closer together.  
	The grandfather copped a feel of his granddaughter’s ass, squeezing her perfectly shaped cheeks.  The young girl hugged her grandfather and when they parted his cock was once more hard.  The grandfather sat back and the eleven year old did likewise, leaning against the carpeted wheel well.  The grandfather’s interests was in his granddaughter’s cunt.  Gunther couldn’t see it as the girl had moved out of optimum viewing perception.
	The grandfather went down and began licking her out, masturbating himself as he did so.  The other little girl seemed preoccupied with playing with her self and apparently either talking a mile a minute or singing.
	The grandfather didn’t take too long tonguing his precious little one, he sat up, smacking his lips.  The two hugged again and Gunther groaned, HE wanted to hug the girl.  Both of them.
	The eleven year old turned about, either on her own or on her grandfather’s desire.  It wasn’t clear.  Not that it really mattered.  The grandfather put himself up against his granddaughter, she pulled her cheeks her ownself and the grandpa was in.
	He pumped, pulled out and spanked her ass, then re-entered her.  Gunther could only assume that he was plugging her bung hole, but he might be in the other one, too.  At length he got into a serious hump fest and pumped madly for several seconds before finally unleashing a mighty torrent of man juice.
	The man fell back, his cock flopping out and shooting cum all over the place.  The young girl fell away, too basically out of sight.  Gunther felt himself humping the ground beneath him.  He could almost smell the spunk from the van 200 yards away from him.
	The grandfather recovered some minutes later, he turned his new attention to the younger one; he simply had her up on one of the captain’s chairs in the RV area.  Here she was put on her knees and bent forward.  Her dress had been removed and the man placed his face down between her butt.
	Nothing more occurred, some peoples were beginning to file out of the church.  The older child pointed this out to the horny grandfather.  Precious minutes were spent cleaning the girls up and redressing them.  Gunther faded off back to his tow truck.

                                             Meanwhile II

	“Come on, hustle!  Hustle!”
	“I’m hustling, I’m hustling!”
	The horde of ants were right behind them.  There was no time to think, but a slight glance about their new environment.  August hadn’t quite gotten the idea, that would need a little bit more time to digest.  BUT; there seemed to be an expansive landscape, surrounded by large off-white pinnacle posts August took to be fencing.  
	“Good God it’s a yard!”
	“What!?” shouted up Charlotte.
	They had come up from the ground some fifty feet, the horde of ants were beginning to swarm up after them, some were not that interested by too many of them were.
	“I really don’t like the way this is going.” he quipped to himself.  This was by far the weirdest Device initiated experience yet.
	Charlotte lost her grip a few times, the ivy was not the easiest to climb.
	“How the hell did that Jack fella do it!?” Charlotte was heard to bitch.
	August didn’t answer her, he found that the rough cobblestone wall was a bit better to latch onto.  The ivy plant was sticky, icky, and not kind to human skin.  
	They scrambled up to a hole, a drain pipe of some sort.  It reeked awful but as August had no clear idea how far to climb or whatever, the drain pipe seemed good.  He figured the ants would probably give chase--and he was right.
	Funky water was in the pipe, laying still.  It reeked and there was small “lifeforms” wriggling in the settled murkiness.  “Don’t step in it.” August warned.  It got darker as they moved on, several ants had come into pipe/tunnel.  Two came up to the still water and as they disturbed the murky funky water, the wriggling lifeforms swarmed over the brown insects and there was chaos aplenty.  Half of the following ants fled, nice.  Two others came to assist--and they, too were consumed (consumed?) by the disturbed lifeforms.
	“Son-of-a-bitch!” whispered Charlotte.  August said nothing but took her hand and pulled her close.
	When they came to where the pipe went straight ahead as well as straight up, “What the hell was that back there?” Charlotte asked.
	August sighed, “I-I don’t really know, this is new to me, too.  I-I think probably something microscopic to us, but--”
	There was a noise that suddenly interrupted his thoughts.  A wash of very funky air was felt, then drips and splashes of water came cascading down from the pipe that went up.  August shoved Charlotte forward into the pipe that went on.
	Just in time.
	A flood of very-very funky water came, there was a curvature to the waste water pipe and only a bit splashed back into the pipe the two Potential Insect Meals ran.

	It took every ounce of strength from both August and Charlotte to open the backsplash flapper.  It was metal and not very giving.  After managing to open the flapper just enough to allow them passage they heard a gurgling sound.  Another force of funky air and water began splashing about them.
	August grabbed Charlotte and with what strength had left he hauled her up to the top of the metal flapper that was doing just that--flapping as a flood of murky water that had a familiar odor to it--soap.
	It was all the two could do to hang on for dear life as the flapper bounced on the water flow.  It didn’t last really all that long--but it sure seemed so.  The last of the soapy water diminished and the flapper slammed shut with a mighty thud.  August and Charlotte were sent sprawling to the pipe surface as they could not contend with the mighty jarring of the flapper seal.
	They could only lay there in some agony.
	“You said this was something like a dream?”
	“Yeah, something like.”
	“More like a friggin’ dream-mare!”
	August gasped for air, the air in the pipe was choking--a mixture of funky and soapy.  Not a good combination.  His eyes stung and his body was wracked with new pains.  He still couldn’t finger out how if this WAS a dream, a dream-scape it could HURT so much.
	Hew figured it had something to do with the mind--in that the mind couldn’t be fooled--it saw fire and was warmed by it; or fried.  Water indicated “wetness”; honey tasted sweet, he saw and smelt and felt all things.  All things that were a part of his “experience.”  All these things were embedded and a part of his social psyche, so his mind told him that the fire was warm and hot and very very real.  His mind told him that the bear’s breath was real.  Humping Ms. Walton was real, falling off his horse gave him a dislocated shoulder, getting shot, and being slammed into funky soapy water--all was very real.  Despite the fact that it was some sort of Device induced dream-scape!
	Explaining it to Charlotte he couldn’t, he couldn’t even really explain it to himself.  They rested a moment before attempting the flapper again.

	The flapper was a little easier the second go ‘round, ‘cause it had been loosened up by the soap flood.  The surface of the pipe tunnel was slippery and icky and made the already arduous trek all the more difficult.  Not too mention that once behind the flapper it was dark, damn dark.
	The odor lingering in the pipe was bad enough, mixed with the pure darkness--August himself had doubts that this was a good idea.  He halted their advancement when coming to a curve, it was getting more and more funky and slippery.
	“Wanna go back and play with the ants, or try and go on?”
	Charlotte squeezed his hand, “I’m with you, Kemosabe.”
	They only moved down the pipe passage a hundred yards or so when they saw some light.  That was good.  The pipe went straight up fifty feet.  That was bad.  Something long like a rope dangled down from the light.  August made out that above them there was grate.  A drain grate.  The rope seemed strong enough, he tugged on it and hoped it would support their weight.  “We’re going to have to do this one at a time, I’m afraid.”
	“I knew it be something like that.” Charlotte drawled dryly.
	About half way up August felt the rope he clung to giving way.  He hustled up and latched onto the metal grate.  “Shit!” he bitched.  Why couldn’t they have been transported back to the time of the 1880s, he liked that time period and figured Charlotte would have, too.
	Charlotte began climbing up.
	August heard the rope/string giving.  It was the only one so he hoped it would hold.  There was gunk all over the place, but nothing worthy of supporting weight.  August determined that the rope-string was actually a length of hair.
	He had a REAL bad feeling about this…

	“We going to just “hang around” all day, or what?”
	It was a tight squeeze to say the least, his hips got stuck and his tallywhacker and dangling testes caught more snug than they wanted to.  Charlotte’s bodacious tatas had problems squeezing thru the grate, too.
	There were more obstacles and observances:  great wooden objects--bowls and plates with spoons and knives.  Charlotte stared at the objects.  She began to grow just a little frightened.  She said nothing, but recalled the ants, the blocks, and the pipe experience.
	There was the climbing out of the “sink” they were in.  It was metal and quite slippery.  The wooden bowls and utensils helped, it was slow precarious going but they at last came up onto the surface, a counter.
	Stepping to the edge they looked down to the floor very far away.
	Taking a look around their new environment--it was a “room.”  A kitchen.  Charlotte nearly fainted.  August squeezed her hand, his attention had been captured by the new threat to their diminutive lives--a cat!
	“That’s a big pussy!” he breathed.
	“Oh my God!” uttered Charlotte.
	The cat sauntered in casually from an open no-door doorway, rubbed against the framework then moved quietly to its food bowl.
	“August!” almost shouted Charlotte, “We’re fucking little people!”
	Well, almost.  “We’re normal people in a BIG WORLD!” he corrected.
	She was not amused.  
	The fat tabby cat looked up, meowed and leaped up onto the counter.
	“SHIT!” screamed August.  He grabbed Charlotte and back down into the sink they went.  They made quite a clatter as they upset the bowls and such.  The cat was right after them.  
	“Into the drain!” he yelled.  Charlotte slipped and slid and fell onto the grate, August right behind her.  So was the cat. 
	Frantically August fought off the huge tabby, utilizing the wooden knife.  It was huge, the knife, and wielding was no easy feat, but out of desperation and a strong advocate for life preservation, he managed.  The kitty cat was no slouch, though; did the typical “slapping” as the knife came up to thwart the knife attack.
	Something distracted the kitty and it bounded up off of the counter and disappeared.  Charlotte breathed a sigh of relief.  August did so as well.  After breathing their sighs they once more clambered up the giant dishes and back onto the counter.  August risked it once more, peeking over the edge to the floor.
	No sign of tabby.
	The kitchen was a dreary one, dark colors of the walls and floors.  There seemed to be no sign of “appliances.”  No lights, either.  “Terrific.” he mouthed.
	“Say again.”
	He didn’t.  He held Char’s hand and they made their way to the back of the counter.
	“Sorry ’bout all this.” he said apologetically.
	“Ah, well, life with you is never to be dull!” she chirped.

	                                        *****

	There was a mouse.  A squeaky timid hungry mouse.  It eyed them as potential food, but food usually didn’t fight back.  The mouse scurried away, leaving some “droppings” as it fled.  The mouse turds brought a nosey cockroach.  The cockroach wasn’t so scared off by the two puny humas.
	“I think I see some sort of “shoes on the other foot” parody here.”
	Charlotte didn’t answer.  She hugged the backsplash tile work of the counter.  It was she who found the tile that moved.  She felt an air current and a seam.  It didn’t take much to move the tile, it swung just a bit and allowed them beyond.
	Now they were inside a wall.
	They found a mouse den, lots of mouse turds led the way.  But once they got used to the “smell” it was rather comfy.  There were tidbits of something in regards to food.  August wasn’t sure what it was, but it was edible--although Charlotte explained that the mouse probably carried it in his mouth.
	“So what now?” she asked.
	August had no clue.  He waited, bumped his head a few times to see if the HUD would show up--it didn’t.  “A little more time.” he said.  Charlotte went off to sleep, August rested and contemplated.  A toothpick served as a possible weapon.  More sharp weapons would have to be found, some clothes, too.  Food, water, and then wait and wait and wait some more.
	Their comfy new digs was disturbed by the return of the original owner.  The mouse was not pleased, it twitched its whiskers and then opened its maw and seemingly growled.
	“Let’s get the fuck outta here!” yelled August.  Again the two puny insignificant humans made like a banana and jammed.
	Luckily the mouse didn’t follow.
	They spent seemingly hours traveling through the wall, finding passages down, up, and every which way.  They found places to sleep for brief periods of time, then they moved on.  Scraps of cloth served as clothes, a small tack nail served as another potential weapon, Charlotte carried that.  Some string served as a sort of lasso.
	Hours?  Days?  Time was virtually meaningless inside a wall.  They heard noises but they were indeterminate.  Gathering bits of food, stealing from the various mice they encountered, living on their wits became the norm.  They seldom talked, the only thing on their mind was survival.  
	They at length came to what August determined to be the ground level.  Here after some period of time they found a pool of water dripping from a pipe.  August found the water a little distasteful, but it was drinkable.  Insulation matter made the small area warm and cozy.  
	A matchbox served as a bed, lined with the insulation material--the non-hazardous type.  A thimble served as a bathtub.  Both had read stories about “little people” in literature, living in a giant’s house, the Carpetbaggers, Lilliputians in Gulliver’s Travels, and the infamous Jack in the Beanstalk.
	Neither discussed the “others.”  Worrying about the gang, Gunther, all of them would do them no good.  August wasn’t sure about the time line anyways.
	“I don’t think it is the same.” but he wasn’t sure.  He had no clear concise information to base his theories on.  Was the passage of time in a dream-scape the same outside the Mind?  August had no idea.
	While on a scavenging expedition, the two came to where a mouse they came to call “Ralph” was busy depositing food he was taking from the kitchen.  There was a small mouse hole that Ralph was using, August made a note of it, Ralph did a good job of providing, but August had concerns about the sanitation of Ralph’s mouth, too.  He would have to scavenge on his own.
	After Ralph had left, August checked out the kitchen.  It was dimly lit by a lantern hanging from the ceiling.  No one seemed to be about, it was dark and still.  And the tabby was no where to be seen, either.  (but that didn’t mean she wasn’t there.)
	Carefully August left the mouse hole, Charlotte remaining inside, trying to keep an eye out for trouble.  It would take three more expeditions to get the lay of the kitchen and all that was in it.  The time period still eluded him, but then again some places visited just didn’t have a set time period--he recalled semi-fondly his trip thru the nursery stories--Big Bad and the Naughty Three Little Pigs, the Gingerbread Witch.  He stopped short so as not to bring up other disturbing/distracting memories.
	On one of his excursions into the kitchen land, he found an ice box.  He firstly found the drip pan, the ice box was old timey, very old.  Like an original from the time period of his time--early 1900s.  He drank his fill and then clambered about to see if he could get inside.\
	Nope.  Not gonna happen, he wasn’t strong enough to force the sealed tight door--even so, it was latched.  
	But once on the counter one night and with the moonlight streaming in thru the nearby window, August spotted a small door on the side of the ice box.  Upon investigating he found that he could open it.
	It led into the interior of the ice box!
	The freezer section he shied away from, but the rest of the ice box was his to explore.
	Roast beef, apples, milk, grapes, everything.
	Toting it was something else, though.  The grapes he merely rolled, half of which rolled off the counter to sights unknown.  Charlotte managed to locate the great orbs of succulent delight--providing needful sustenance in more ways than one.
	Some of the grapes were allocated to Ralph, he had been so kind in “sharing” his food with them, August and Charlotte helped Ralph out.  “Never know when we might need a friend in here.”
	On another scavenging assault on the ice box, trouble.  Not too bad, but inconvenient.  It was the dead of night, they had secured several loads of delectable delights and were ready to drop them to the floor.  Charlotte was with August this go round, good thing; for blocking the mouse hole was the tabby.  August fumed.  Things had been going so well.  
	“It’s got Ralph trapped.” whined Charlotte.
	“Not really, Ralph’s knows his way around the wall.”
	So they waited.  And waited.  And waited some more.  Tabby had patience.  It was too dark to see much detail, but August could see the hulk of the cat, and it’s ever swishing impatient tail.
	There was naught to do but sit it out, rest, and wait.
	Both August and Charlotte drifted in and out of sleep mode.  They checked the status of the Tabby.  He/she was still there.  The morning was coming, a new plan would have to be brought into play.  They could utilize the loosened tile, but it was a hell of a long ways around the wall to their home.  
	Morning was coming.  August and Charlotte cuddled, holding one another until the moment came when they were at peace with one another.  Charlotte cast off her cares--and hand made tattered clothes and mounted August.
	“Well, it HAS been a while.” she scoffed.  He held her dearly for a few moments before his cock slid into her cunny.  They made love, slow and enduring until their passions heated up and it was time for some serious fucking.
	When the serious fucking didn’t stem the tide of their passions Charlotte assumed the position of doggie-style and August mounted her, gliding into her corn hole, spanking her.  Charlotte tweaked her nipples and frigged her box.  August’s balls slapped against her as his cock opened her poop chute up a little more.
	Neither one was aware of them being “watched.”