August Moone
Book 2
Roadtrips and Sidetrips
Chapter 21
Unexpected Expectations

	There’s being in trouble and then there is BEING IN TROUBLE!  For two wayward humans in a new world--they were in BIG DAMN TROUBLE!  
	“This is really getting annoying.” remarked Charlotte.
	August had no comment, he just clamped his hand tighter to hers and ran--for dear life.  Following right behind was Big Al.  How the big fuck had gotten to the other side of the gorge wasn’t clear--the fact remained that he WAS and he was really pissed off!
	The three families, Marshalls, Porters, and Moone separated quickly when Big Fuck Al loomed up the scene.  The three families were forging, planning on trapping a large pesky boar and cook the bugger up for dinner.  The big t-rex changed the plans and it was a mad scramble for survival.
	When the two could catch a breath they paused--but it was short lived, Big Fuck had a grudge against the two puny humans--he chased them clear to the gorge.  At the gorge August looked to his left--there wasn’t much room along the edge, the forest was kinda thick to be running at a dead run (ohhhhh, let’s not say dead).  It also slopped down, was rocky and visibility through the rough was not so good.
	To the right was not much better, but the great redwood and falls were there.  “Come on.” August said as he jerked his mate.
	“You got a plan?” she said gasping for breath.
	“Yeah, sure, a plan.”  (‘Plan!?  Plan!?  I don’t need no stinkin’ plan!’)
	There was little time to breathe let alone struggle to think up a plan.
	Just reaching the great redwood spanning the gorge Big NOISY Fuck busted out of the woods.  His breath alone was enough to kill them.  August and Char made a dash to the tree to cross but Big Al had other plans.  He stomped a huge paw down on the ground.  The earth shook all around, the tyrannosaur leaned down and yelled.
	Back into the woods.  Big Al charging right behind.  His huge mass slowed him up--some.  He easily snapped most trees and pushed out of his way most boulders, those trees and boulders that weren’t so giving he simply went around. 
	So with the hazards of checking the ground for potholes, limbs and rocks and such as the like that would easily trip up a puny human--sending him/her tumbling and possibly breaking something or at the very least spraining badly--August and Charlotte also had to watch out for blasting kindling and rock shards.
	The re-emerged back out onto the gorge edge, they were up above the redwood--and no chance of getting to it--Big Fuck rumbled out and was ten times as pissed off as he was before.
	The two puny humans made a maddening dash up the gorge towards the falls.  For some reason Big Al went out along the redwood tree--he was confused and not aware that his prey had managed to elude him.  August couldn’t believe the big fuck had actually braved his initial fear of heights and traipsed out along the huge tree.
	At a ledge a hundred feet up August and Charlotte paused, their lungs were on fire and they had to take a breather.  Down below the big dinosaur ranted and raged about his loss, he stood in the middle of the tree crossing, stomping and banging his great deadly thrashing tail.
	“Uh-oh.” drawled August.
	“What?”
	“Look.”
	Charlotte looked in the direction August pointed--along the far edge of the gorge where the great redwood had settle years and years ago, there were crumblings going on.  The weight and pissed off factor was factoring in on the decay of the tree and gorge bank.
	While August took his much needed breather, he so noted that his HUD was working, there was a brain wave pattern showing.  It wasn’t Charlotte’s.  It wasn’t his.  He focused, narrowed his eyes, concentrated.
	“Son-of-a-sweet-bitch!” he murmered.
	“Huh?”
	August didn’t answer her, he concentrated--concentrated--concentrated.  He got a little dizzy, a nosebleed, and a ringing in his ears.  Suddenly, the t-rex stopped his incessant blaring and turned his attention up the gorge.
	“Oh shit….”
	August clutched Charlotte’s hand.
	“What did you do?” she asked.
	“I have no idea.”
	“Oh shit.”
	For several seconds, though, Big Noisy Fuck was silent, only it two puny forearms wriggling.  For a few several seconds only.  Then it began coming around.  August implemented a defensive program, not knowing if it work or not.  But he had to try.  
	Whatever it was, Big Al was even more pissed than he was before.  He turned about on the great redwood and began thundering back across--but August sent his Offensive Weapon out at that time, he saw on the HeadsUpDisplay something like a radar screen; Big Al occupied the center, he was the center of attention.  Shooting out towards the big reptile was a bright green wave--it actually resembled something like a microscopic spermazoa!
	August himself heard a slight ear piercing sound.
	The big dino was hit with the “wave” and thrashed madly as if he were blinded.  This only made the redwood crossing more perilous.  At both ends now the gorge banks securing the great tree were giving way.  
	And finally it did.  The far end gave first; Big Al freaked out and made matters worse with his continuous thrashing.  The tree had no support and down into the gorge it went--taking the big lumbering reptile with it.
	There was no time to sit and watch the huge beast be swallowed up by the mist/fog of the gorge, Al’s mate Big Alice came out and looked mournfully down into the gorge.  She then shot a look up to the two puny humans.
	“Ut-oh.” mouthed Charlotte.
	August squeezed her hand, “Gotta keep going, my pet.”
	  
                                            *****

	He wasn’t overly certain, but it looked like a possibility.  It was a daring one, but a major case of the heebie-jeebies had come over him, he felt at odds with himself, saw strange visions he couldn’t ascertain as to their content in the plunging waters.  Something was a tad bit amiss.
	Suddenly Charlotte shrieked.  August looked up to her direction of distress.  Jungle Bunnies.  Pygmy type creatures wearing typical jungle masks.  They carried spears and nothing else.
	August checked the falls again, he grew dizzy and thought he saw a ledge just inside the falls.  The top of the falls was close, the potential “leap” would be a good six feet to the closest rock--a moss covered slick boulder jutting out from the precipice.
	There were as many as a dozen pygmies, the ones that could be seen.  August determined that there were quite possibly more.  Lots more unseen.  Big Alice shrieked from where the big redwood tree had been.  There was no sign of Big Al.  
	A dozen or so spear wielding dark skinned creatures descended upon them, they made curious “clicking” noises as a manner of speech.  One jutted his deadly possibly poisoned tipped spear up the small path to the top of the fall’s area.  
	August tapped his fingers together, this was not good--no, not good at all.  Charlotte clung to him, a steady stream of pee trickling down her legs.

	“Here we go merrily, merrily, merrily; here we go merrily, trekking thru the woods.”  or perhaps, “Over the river and thru the woods, the a pygmy’s kettle we go!”
	Charlotte was not amused.  This was serious.  The number of four foot jungle bunnies was uncountable--suffice it to say there were a BUNCH of them.  All nude, all bearing huge masks, all hefting huge spears.
	At the top area of the falls there was a bit of a flat landscape--dotted with huge towering boulders.  A huge river was here, green it was, spanning some 200 yards across.  The trees were jungle type trees with pines and cedars chucked in for no apparent reason.
	August could smell smoke.  His heart pounded and now would be a good time for the segue into a new adventure; now would be a good time for the Device to institute a portal opening.
	But none showed.
	After trekking several minutes into the deep thick jungle/forest, they emerged to a huge clearing.  In the backdrop was a stone pyramid structure, approx. twenty feet high with an appropriate base.  Small huts were scattered about the “village”, there were two pits on either side of a large black cast iron pot.  The pot was boiling, bubbling; a great fire was built underneath.
	“Hmmmm, hot tub time!” smirked August.  Charlotte slapped his shoulder.  “Not funny.” she bitched.
	The cacophony of the natives settled and all laid still and quiet on the village.  Emerging from one of the huts was a tall native, he was at least five feet!  He bore a lion cloth, trinkets, small skulls of some animal, and gregarious mask of many colors.
	He babbled in the native tongue and sounded pissed off.
	One of the natives with August babbled back.
	There was a conservation flowing between the two, August noted a head nod from the “chief.”  He stepped forward and mumbled something, August shrugged.  The Chief looked around to his subordinates.
	“Kula Ma!” he said loudly.  Then he bowed.
	“Uh, hmmmm, this is new.” remarked August.
	“Kula Ma!” spoke the Chief again.  He bowed, raised his hands, and bowed.  “Any ideas?” August asked of Charlotte.  She hadn’t a clue.
	The Chief finally stopped bowing and turned to a subordinate, “Key la bo!  Key la bo!”
	August raised an eyebrow.  “Hmmmm, not sure, but I thought I heard the word KILL!”
	The native that was spoken too dashed off and disappeared among the others.  The Chief turned to another and spoke some words, then to another and spoke more words.
	“What’s going on?” Charlotte asked.
	“I haven’t a clue.” and he didn’t.  he did feel the threat level of his life had lessoned.
	The Chief then turned his attention back to August, “Kula Ma!” he said semi boastfully, he slapped his chest and removed a ring of trinkets from his neck.  August got the gist, it was a gift, he bowed and the Chief put the necklace of bones and teeth around his neck.
	Several natives came bustling through the throng of their brethren bearing hollowed gourds of what looked to be like poi, among other things.  A flower wreath was presented to Charlotte, a necklace of animal teeth and claws, and she was doused with some sort of musky scent from a gourd that was squeezed--simulating a perfume bottle.
	Food.  Gifts.  Praises.  It all added up to one thing:  “We’re heroes.”
	“What?”
	“We just killed their biggest pain in the ass, that--that t-rex.”
	“Ohhhhhhhhhhh.”
	It was a feast, and the two not-so-puny humans were the toast--er, without actually BEING the toast.  There was an dance done for the “guests.”  Drink & food all around.  The dance seemed to parlay with the most recent events involving the demise of the big lizard.
	It was entertaining, at least they weren’t the main course!  
	Singing & dancing filled the air, August and Charlotte felt more at ease about their situation.  August was bemused by the “interpretive” dance of his exploits, and it was no noted (more bemusingly) that some of the dancers were female in nature--and nude.
	Their faces were all that was concealed--huge hideous masks, some horrid and some tolerable.  And the masks, too, were two-three times as big as the pygmies themselves!
	One of the native dancers jiggled before August, wriggling and flipping about, she turned and presented her ass to him, wriggling it like a go-go dancer, bent over exposing her sex and glory hole.  August had no idea how old (or young) the native was--not that it mattered.
	Taking a daring chance at tempting fate he laid his hand on the “offering”.  The ass wriggled some more and then scooted away, to be replaced by another bare ass.
	The drums beat on well into the darkening night, August was not the only one being presented by a native offering--Charlotte also received a private dancer--male.  Again, with the mask on (or possibly even OFF) there was no way to tell the age of the native.  But he had a cock, it was stiff and about three inches.  He stood before Charlotte and jiggled himself furiously, flopping his stiffy side to side and then up and down.
	The festivities ended sometime after midnight.  August worried and wondered how the Marshalls & Porters had fared.  Could they make it back to that place they had called home?  Where they aware of the pygmy natives?  Was Cha-ka?  
	Charlotte had passed out long before August realized that the drink in the gourd he/they were drinking was alcoholic in nature.  He didn’t want to lose consciousness--not in the present company.  So far they had showed no animosity and August hoped that it would be bad luck to kill off and eat the ones who had saved them!
	He was awakened in the wee morning hours, the sudden urge to pee hit him, his body was sore, his mind--frapped with the past days’ events.  It was then he noticed that something was going on with his dick.
	It was being sucked.
	One of the natives was having a gnaw on it, she was sucking it.  How long she had been slurping the schlong wasn’t known, but she was good.  The great fire under the kettle was still going, but not as much as it had been hours earlier.  August opened his legs and the native popped the member out of her mouth and slurped on his balls.  
	August rolled his eyes, moaned, and fondled himself.  Soon the native came up and placed her sex onto his cock.  She was not wearing her mask, August STILL couldn’t see well enough her facial features.  So he imagined the girls he loved (and had left) back with Gunther.  Jill, Julie, Krista, Karen, Kristy, Mary Anne, Winnie and Wendsy.  Whether or not the native bitch was a virgin or not couldn’t be determined--she was so small her pussy was naturally “tight.”
	She gripped him as his mammoth schlong slid into her, she made haughting sounds as the full length of his member penetrated her.  Her body was the size of a good ten year old.  That helped.  August gripped her butt and proceeded with the humping.

	“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh.” he groaned.  He got a headache.  His cock and nuts ached.  But it was a good ache--his cock and nuts, his headache was a bitch.  Most things that had been weighing on his mind were obliterated--for the time being.  He lay still inside one of the huts provided, empting his mind of worry and strife.  The native pygmy who had laid him had been gone some few minutes at least, when suddenly she was back.
	But it wasn’t her, er, it was a different one.  Unable to see the native’s face, the mask worn was the only way to tell.  Also her poon was not-just-recently-fucked.  She was just as tight and snug as the previous.  She grinded on him, seemingly not really knowing the fine art of fucking.  August gripped her ass, caressed, patted, and brought up the images of those awaiting his return in the Real World.
	Four more native pygmies came to ride the Moone shaft.
	August could scarcely keep his schlong going.  He deemed that all the native bitches of the tribe were probably going to ride him; it was some sort of offering or something like--for saving their necks from the t-rex.  (In some cultures jewelry, keys to the city, or chocolate was given as gratitude.  Here in the parallel jungles of some forgotten land--the natives gave up their females.
	It was odd, bizarre, strange--but a fuck was a fuck!
	August counted at least a dozen bitches had come to him.  His cock was absolutely worn out and unable to “perform”.  He had to shoo away potential pussy; he didn’t like doing so--it was bad manners, turning away pussy was unheard of, and there was the potentiality that it might piss the Chief off!
	He had just closed his eyes, listening to buzzing insects, a breeze wafting thru the boughs of the trees, something grunting out in the woods, and the crash of the waterfall not too far away.  He had taken a deep breath and was relaxing when someone else entered the hut.
	“Son-of-a-bitch!” he moaned (in agony.)
	“Relax, Stud.  It’s me.” quipped his life mate, Charlotte.
	She snuggled against him, lightly gripping his gamey schlong.
	August said nothing but tensed up, his cock literally could take no more, he had concluded that being so--beings as his cock was no longer fit for duty--he might as well take a plunge off the falls!
	“Seems as you’ve been busy.”
	August replied not.
	“Me, too.” 
	“What?”
	There was a pause, “I noticed the females of this tribe coming out of the hut.”  August nodded, but he couldn’t answer.  Charlotte paused, snuggled her head against his shoulder and sighed deeply.
	“The male members of this tribe have been “visiting” me.”
	August lay in a stupor.  Then he began to chuckle.
	Charlotte smacked his bare chest, then took holt of his balls and squeezed them.  August shut up, snuggled against her and they both slept soundly.

	Cum the following morning after a breakfast of gruel-like substance, it was back to banging.  August was nearly dragged back into his hut and “visited” by a dozen or so more bitches.  Charlotte was banged by the remaining members of the tribe, all the males.
	“Uhm, whattya think is going on here?” Charlotte inquired during a brief private-personal interlude.
	“I-I don’t know.”  as he slurped his poi-like substance that eve by the bonfire, he watched carefully as the members of the unknown named tribe danced about foolishly, rubbing their bellies.  The female members rubbing their bellies, the male member had the Elvis-the-Pelvis gyration thing going on.
	“I’m getting a creepy feeling about this.” he said.
	“Whattya mean?”
	“Not sure--not sure.”
	
	Not sure until the following when…
	August had deemed that his cock would never fuck again.  How could such a thing happen?  How could this parallel universe--how could he feel such intense feelings & sensations?  How could--
	He gave up, his mind was in a blur, whirring, spinning out of control.  Too many questions with no answers.  The door to the hut opened and in crawled another pygmy bitch.  ‘Oh no.’ he groaned.
	She was accompanied by two others, then a third.
	‘Great, a gang bang.’
	One of the naked masked bitches came up to him, giggling, and took his hand.  She firstly placed it on her bare tummy, then down to her hairless poon.  August was okay with this.  A second jungle bunny came up to toy with his other hand.  Another fondled his cock and balls.  August laid in dire agony, this WAS punishment for his past deeds.
	Suddenly his mind was distracted on two fronts:  one, his privates were ceased up tight, and the thatched door to the hut was thrust open.
	August raised his aching head long enough to see his mate, Charlotte, standing there (er, stooped) bearing a hunk of wood.  She walloped one of the pygmy bitches up side the head with the log and then another.
	“August!” she yelled.
	August sat up--and noticed one of the bitches (one who had been clutching his nut sac) bearing a rather sharp blade.
	“Holy shit!” he yelled.  The remaining bitches jumped him, Charlotte went to walloping on them, too.

	“What the FUCK is going on!?”
	“I don’t know, but I saw them coming into the hut with that one carrying the sickle.”
	“Son-of-a-bitch!”
	“Why is what I want to know.  I thought everything was doing okay.”
	August couldn’t finger it himself.  Why did they suddenly turn on him, and why had all the male members pegged Charlotte.
	“Hmmmmm.” he thought.	
	“What?  Something?”
	“Well, ‘member the other night, the whole bunch of them out by the fire jumping around crazy like?”
	“Yeah, some were rubbing their bellies, others were humping air--”
	“Yeah, and I saw some of the others rubbing their bellies and placing their hands above their heads going in circles--or so I thought.”
	“What do you mean, now?”
	“Well, you know that trick, rub your belly with your hand above your head--”
	“It’s pat your belly and rub your head!” she corrected him.
	“Whatever--anyways--” he paused, thought, re-thought. 
	“What?  What?”
	“Well, it-it seems--”
	“Well?  What?  Tell me or I’m gonna let this bitch up and let her cut yer damn nuts off!”
	August went over it in his mind.  “Well, it just looked to me like they, the men types, were-were--”
	“Were what?”
	“Well, it just seems as like they were indicating that they wanted to be taller.”
	“Taller!?”
	“Yeah, like you and me.”
	“Like you and me!?”  she paused a moment and reflected.  “I-I don’t got a good feeling about this.”
	August thought some, brooded, then looked at the bitches who wanted to castrate him.  “I’m not sure--”
	“About what?”
	“Well,” he gulped--”Damn!”
	“WHAT!” Charlotte was almost shrieking now.
	“Son-of-a-bitch!” he got it.
	Charlotte stared at him, she was getting pissed.
	“The men of this fucked up tribe were banging you, right?”
	“Yeah, and?”
	“The bitches were banging me.”
	“Yeah.  AND?”
	“What happens, what’s the ultimate end result?  I mean, me screwing the bitches, the men screwing you?”
	Charlotte didn’t get it, it was too vague.  She hunted for the nut cleaver.
	“YOU get pregnant.  I impregnate the bitches.”
	Charlotte digested the new info.  She didn’t like it.
	“Son-of-a-bitch!” she got it.  She got it.  “Those little bitches!”
	“That’s what all the fucking’s been about--to get you pregnant in order to give them a TALL pygmy, and for me to knock up all the female bitches.”
	“They want tall ones…”
	“Yeah, I-I guess they’re tired of being short.”
	“Well, hell, I would be, too; this is not the environment to be short!”
	Good point.
	“But why castrate you?”
	“Don’t know.  Part of their plan, a ceremony, they’re done with me.”
	Two of the potential castrators moaned and stirred.  Charlotte walloped them on the head and heard feet scuffling outside.  The door parted, August grabbed the mask and flung the bitch inside--Charlotte knocked the bitch out with the club.
	August removed the masks.
	Only two were worthy, the rest a dog wouldn’t fuck.
	Charlotte looked to him, she tried hard to keep her smile down.  ‘Just desserts, just desserts.’

	They had made the falls before hearing the screams and shouts and yells of the natives behind them.
	“There’s no fucking way we can cross.” the water of the river was too fast.  No sense going DOWN the way they had come, “Let’s try upstream.”
	Charlotte didn’t care, she grasped her mate’s hand, he had made a slight off-hand comment about her being knocked-up by one of the many suitors (natives).  “not possible.” she had replied.
	“Why not?” he smirked.
	She didn’t answer, ‘YOU figure it out, smart boy.’

                                                       *****
                                                  Heavenly Bliss

	True to form, chaos reigned supreme.  He knew better than to tempt fate and raise the hackles of the community, but they were so damn cute!  Amy, Beverley, Charlene, Donna, Emily, Fratima, and Grace.  Seven.  They had all been in attendance one day, and gone the same.  And a boy was missing, too--Hunter Greene.
	No ransom, no calls, no signs, no nothing.  FBI & CIA were involved, National Guard were a presence, local enforcers, and private gun nuts roamed the roads and roads and skies.  A little overboard, Gunther thought.  He should have been satisfied with maybe just one or two of them, but Seven!?
	Oh well.  Too late now.  There were now knew decisions to make; to let them go--somewhere else, or keep them.  Moving about in the area amounted to a general cluster fuck; everyone was suspicious, there was a curfew instilled, and neighbor was pitted against neighbor.  General mayhem at its greatest.
	There was still no sign of “life” from August or Charlotte, a twitch now and then, but nothing more.  How long they could go wasn’t known, they were cleaned and watered daily, but they required more substantial sustenance for survival.
	No one else knew of the “extras.”  Well, Wendsy and September were aware, they aided in keeping the security about them.  But no one else.  Gunther still had odds about the Dawsons, something was really up with them and he wanted to know what.
	Hunter had a few qualms about ditching (dissen) his family.  He didn’t have a good relationship with his folks, they were kinda strict; but on the other hand, he had a good life--an allowance, a new bike now and then, a good home, went on good vacations.
	But he “didn’t have a life.”  He wasn’t allowed to do a lot of things his friends and peers were doing.  His parents were very religious and active in the church--so he was expected likewise.  Hunter didn’t care for church, actually.
	That first night Hunter got to get naked with the girls, he got to remove their clothes, admire their nude bodies, and fuck them.  He sucked on their mounds, ran his hand all over their nakedness, spank them, and stuff their mouths with his cock.
	He fucked them, too.  He went up their ass, between their breasts, and fucked their pussies until he could fuck no more.  
	He also spread his cheeks for Gunther.  The man fondled him, fondled his balls and cock, and sodomized him.  Hunter allowed it, he felt that he didn’t really have a say in the matter--and he owed the strange man.  
	Hunter was introduced to two other strangers--Wendsy & September.  Hunter determined right off that the two were beyond “strange.”  They were “weird”, too.
	The Seven remained in a semi-”drugged” state of being.  Hunter was fucked out, so he sat idle and watched as September nailed the girls, but not so much as actually “fucking” them as torturing them.  The girl, Wendsy, too.
	The Seven one by one had “roach” clips attached to their nipples, clits, tongues, and ears.  A small length of pipe was rammed up the girl’s gooey fucked assholes, another into their pussies.  All these things had wires attached to them coming from a small box the boy September had.  Gunther operated a video camera while the super buzz cut headed pudgy youth Ninth Month cranked the green military-like personal generator.
	Hunter grew a little frightened when seeing the girls’ bodies jerk and twitch.  It was done unto them one at a time.  The girls woke up, sort of, flailed about madly and freaked out totally.
	Wendsy shaved the girls’ poons, she peed on their faces, too.
	She spanked them and made the girls lick her pussy and funky asshole.
	Both she and September shaved the girls’ heads.
	Hunter was gassed.  This was just way-way bizarre.
	At length the girls were released.  Far away in a high desert remote locale.  Gunther used the tow-truck for this venture, an old beat up van the transport hooked up behind it.  He was not stopped by the local authority figures as he was now well known and liked.  Some of the Federal Officers had grown to trust him, although one was a particular asshole.  Gunther put him on the “List.”  (the List to Deal With Later at a Later Time)
	The girls were really fucked up--mentally and physically.  They were tied up but with a little effort they could escape.  They were not placed together but strung out aways, but it was possible that they would find one another.  It was the dead of nite, damn dark and kinda chilly.  Morning was a few hours away.  They were hairless, well fucked, and reeling from being electrocuted.
	Gunther dropped the derelict van off in a neighboring town’s junkyard and settled at a roadside diner.  Though Wendsy was more inclined to enjoy August’s company, she tolerated Gunther--he was vile, despicable, and deplorable.  Qualities Wendsy approved of.  She sat with Gunther while her diabolical brother sat with Hunter across from them at a corner booth.
	A few stragglers were in the diner in the mid-mid morning, a couple of long haul truck drivers, and the night shift.  Gunther seriously wanted to be out of the area as a whole.  And with his latest debacle, the proverbial Shit Hitting the Fan was going to escalate.  The situation was already ten-fold, when the Seven were found it was going to be ten times as worse.
	Could he safely move August and Charlotte?  Could he move the whole group without alerting suspicion?  He knew that moving onto the main roads, or possibly ANY roads, someone was bound to get nosey and want to peek into the cargo areas of the panel trucks, as well as the Mega RV.
	Someone was bound to get overly nosey and curious about all the kids and few adults.  Questions would arise.  With August’s Device unavailable to him, Gunther saw trouble.
	Of course, the other solution was “Fuck it!” and go off on his own.
	Luckily, thankfully, he didn’t do that.

	While September went off doing whatever on his own Wendsy lay on Gunther humping him in oblivion.  Behind her humped Hunter.  It was an odd feeling of sensation--feeling Gunther’s cock while he himself humped Wendsy’s asshole.  The girl had given him a dynamic blowjob, sucked his balls and pleased him beyond his wildest dreams.  While he recovered she lay out on the nude Gunther.  After a time, just as the sun was beginning to rise, Wendsy parted one of her cheeks while Gunther parted the other.
	It was an open invite.  One that Hunter did not turn down.  He cinched up and stuffed the strange girl’s backdoor.
	All three were nude in the front trashy seat of the tow-truck.  
	Hunter got his nut, sat back and watched admiring Wendsy and Gunther complete their deed.  He was enamored with Wendsy, well--with any girl.  Watching them pee, bend over, being spanked, be fucked.  Gunther’s cock slid effortlessly up into Wendsy’s pussy.  Gunther held the girl’s cheeks tight, his balls cinched up tight, there was that “mustiness” filling the closed cab of the truck.
	Hunter saw peoples milling about the parking lot, they themselves were parked in the back area of the diner, more trucks were pulling in, a national guard truck had pulled in, too.
	Gunther and Wendsy completed their union, all three carefully dressed.
	Wendsy made her way back to the restaurant, to use the restroom for a freshening up.  Hunter did likewise and Gunther shrugged and followed.

                                                        *****
	The shenanigans were far from over; Wendsy directed Gunther’s attention to cutsey little girl in beige walking shorts.  She was a long dark brown haired child, slim tender little body, pert little ass, short shorts.  A very nice face, fumbling with a gumball machine in the diner’s foyer.
	The diner was full, busy.  Gunther looked over all the patrons, some were even outside.  There were Suits, Feds, locals, farmers, travelers.  The news of the Missing Seven was on the lips of everyone, and most of the scuttlebutt had it that the Seven were either dead or carried off somewhere else.
	Gunther checked the Possible and noted that Wendsy was there.  She was sneaky, he hadn’t realized that she had left the table they had been at.  September was still “missing in action”, too.
	In mere moments something of a convo was struck up between Wendsy and the young girl.  Some Feds and Suits (not much difference, just different categories of Federal authoritive figures.)
	When Gunther checked the status of Wendsy and the Subject, they were gone.
	“They went out.” whispered Hunter.
	Gunther and Hunter slipped out, too.
	At the tow truck Gunther peered in, Wendsy sat quietly and politely in the seat, huddled at the floorboard under a pile of rags was the little girl.  Gunther and Hunter crawled in, Hunter had a mild case of the heebie-jeebies, this was just out and out kidnapping.  But he was reminded of the fresh narly business involving the Seven.  Willing he had spanked them, tweaked their nipples, held their legs while their pussies were shaven, peed on them, made them lick one another as well as suck his cock, balls, and asshole.  And he definitely willingly fucked them until he could fuck no more.
	So what the hell was one more….?
	So what the hell was TWO more…?  September finally made an appearance--and he was not alone.  With him were two freaked out zombiefied little girls, approx. six and eight years young.
	They were secured and covered with rags with ONE MORE stuffed behind the seat!  She was a cutey of six years, playing hide-n-seek from her older siblings and not-clued-in parents.
	Behind another truck Gunther rolled out, turning right and being nonchalant about his business.  He rolled down the sleepy early morning not awake town, made a turn here, there, and seemed to be either lost or something else.
	The hidden passengers made no moves or adverse actions.  September farted.
	They were three more to come.  Two teens plus two more young’uns.  The young’uns were merrily loping about the dead end of town, derelict buildings, old cars, piles of debris and tires.  Wendsy and September easily “acquired” them; using trickery, deceit, and innocence.
	The two teen girls were cousins, riding bicycles, out in the same area as the two recent acquisitions.  The two teens were up to no-good themselves, helping themselves to some “items” from a semi-remote house.  They had in their possession watches, rings, CDs, cassettes, pre-recorded videos & DVDs. 
	The cab of the truck was getting crowded.  He needed a vehicle with more room, or unload what he had.  He sailed down the two lane road out of town, a helicopter roared overhead, but kept going.  A national guard truck zoomed by him, followed by as many as four state highway police cars, lights flashing; all heading for town at break-neck speeds.  The first of the Seven had been found.  It was 8 AM.
	Gunther pulled off onto a dirt road meandering thru a thick docket of trees.  A high desert to one side (the left) and rolling rocky hills on the right.  The truck rumbled and rolled until Gunther relatively safe in the area he had come to.
	After a bit of stretching, he shucked his clothes and sized up his new acquisitions.  Wendsy and September stood (clothed), waiting.  Hunter was a little too bashful to strip down like Gunther had.  He looked at the eight acquired ones, his mind in a whir at how it had all happened, how easily--and what their potential fate was going to be.
	The drone of a helicopter interrupted Gunther’s thoughts, he paused momentarily, methodically stroking his bone.  September undressed and took a closer interest in one of the teens--a nice looking 14 year old in super tight knee length jeans, short sleeved top, nice chest.
	Gunther’s Gadget was working fine, his other “gadget” was sore.
	The two teens, Christine and Jolene were frightened, confused, shaking and trembling.  Christine was the older, she was 14.  The other was her cousin, younger by a year.  Chris had the super tight jeans, she was of average weight for her age class, but just a couple of inches undertall.  Her cousin Jolene was of the same height and approx. weight.  Jolene had green eyes as opposed to her cousin who had dark brown eyes.
	The little girls were placed at the floorboard, on top of one another and spread out.  Christine was laid out on her stomach on the bench seat of the truck.  The doors were opened and she was “sized up.”
	With the use of the Gadget the Acquired Ones were forcibly behaved.  Gunther listened, looked about, peered carefully and then nudged Hunter standing beside him.  “Take off your clothes, boy.”
	Hunter semi-reluctantly complied.  He was nervous and a bit frightened.  Was he getting in too deep?  No time no to second guess.  He was a willing participant.  “Go around to the other side.” Gunther told him.
	Nakedly the boy did so.  Gunther smiling, looking at the lovely nude boy scamper off.  He appeared quickly at the opposite side of the truck.  Gunther stepped out, lifted the 14 yr old’s head and rubbed his cock against her sweet face.  She was a little out of it, but “in” it enough to be aware that a man-thing was humping her face.
	She freaked out a little.
	September pressed the Pain Inducer to her side.
	The girl lit up like fireworks, but unable to soar.  She thrashed about the seat madly freaking out.  September giggled.  Wendsy stood beside the nude Hunter.  Gunther slipped his cock into the mildly thrashing teen, holding her head tight.  He nodded to Hunter who understood his task--undress the Subject.
	Hunter slowly rubbed his hands on the girl’s ass.  She still thrashed about a bit, September held her hands tight and pressed the PI against her side, he didn’t turn it on, but the girl got the idea and wailed as her mouth was filled with man cock and her pants were pulled down.
	Gunther drove his cock into the young teen’s mouth.  Jolene couldn’t see much as she was scrunched up with September’s body covering/concealing her.  Hunter tugged Christine’s tight jeans down.  She flopped her legs madly, cried, gulped for air and choked on cock.  September farted.

	With her purple hi-top panties rolled down to her ankles, Hunter stared at her delicious naked ass.  He gulped, sweated, and lusted.  The naked asses of the Seven had affected him, too.  Christine’s was no different.  On his own he caressed the lily white ass, Gunther humped off into the girl’s mouth, filling it.  September worked his jeans down and pressed his cock against the girl’s face.  She spat out the goo from Gunther’s schlong, only to have her mouth invaded again and forced to suck another.
	Hunter glanced up to Gunther, Gunther nodded to the boy and he moved up precariously onto the girl, her ankles confined via her clothes twisted there.  September squeezed the girl’s hands behind her back tight as she felt the presence of Hunter’s cock.  He himself parted her cheeks and began poking at her very virginal poop chute.  The girl thrashed and freaked out.
	She lost her grip on September’s schlong, he didn’t mind.  He tightened his grip on her hands, Gunther held her at the shoulders and ordered her to raise her hips.  She refused.
	September shocked her HARD and the girl was virtually useless.  September held her up so as Hunter could get at her, he had been mildly “shocked” too.
	He had learned from Gunther that in order to breach a virgin pooter hole one had to spit on it, finger it out, lick it out, and then poke with a very determined cock.  Gunther held the young teen by her hair, spanking/slapping her face with his cock.  Hunter entered the girl’s virgin pooter hole and humped until he came.

	The girls nestled up on the floorboard were gagged and blindfolded, their hands and feet secured, too.  Hunter sat with his knees on the running board of the truck, rubbing his cock--he didn’t think he could fuck anymore, but a couple of the younger girls enticed him to think otherwise.
	Gunther--Gunther-Gunther-Gunther.  He had wrestled the other teen, Jolene, up onto the seat, placing her UNDER her cousin.  She thrashed and bashed and basically made it worse for herself.  September was only too happy to administer “punishment.”
	Wendsy, still clothed, caressed Hunter’s ass.  Something was growing, in her.  Er, no, not that.  She had only known Hunter a short while, but she had felt something.  She dismissed most things that it could be--love, infatuation, and other nonsensical claptrap like that.  It wasn’t so much as she yearned to make love with him (to him), but something close.  Maybe it WAS love, a early beginning.
	She caressed his ass as he caressed his cock & balls.
	September ripped another butt blast, the girls his ass was against made horrible sounds of gagging and carrying on.  September held Christine’s ass cheeks open, her hole had closed back to normal, but the crack and all was coated in a nice coating of boy cum.
	“Lick it clean!” demanded September.
	Jolene was horrified and in no way was she going to lick her cousin’s poo chute.
	She and Christine were zapped.  It took a little time for them to recover enough to regain their senses so as they could be themselves--sort of.  Meantime, Jolene was mildly aware that her jeans were being tugged off.  She was being fondled up between the legs roughly, spanked, and put in a horrible position.
	“Lick it clean!” demanded September again.
	The girl was confused.  This was insane!  But she was mildly aware of the horrible news reports of late.  She grew intensely terrified--she knew, she knew she was in deep shit.  She shook and trembled.  Her legs were pinned up, one leg around the steering wheel of the truck, the other held back almost to the breaking point.  Her pussy was NOT virginal, but it had never received COCK before.  (under dire duress she blurted out that she fucked herself with cucumbers, zucchini, bananas and a Coke bottle.
	Jolene thrashed about as a REAL cunt pleasing object entered her.
	September pressed the Pain Inducer to Christine and the electrocution teemed through them all.

	Wendsy had come up behind Hunter, caressing his cock and balls, leaning against him, mildly watching the antics of her brother and Gunther.  She tugged at the boy and he went with her.
	The tow truck’s bed was dirty--oily rags, chains, wood blocks, extra tires, and the assorted stuff normally found in the bed of a tow truck.  Grasping Hunter’s hand they eased off to the side of the truck, to some clover.  The antics going on in the truck’s cab could still be heard.  There were trees and shrubs surrounding them all.  Hunter stood looking at Wendsy, he didn’t have a clue.
	Butt bare assed naked he was kinda scrawny, mostly lily white, sandy brown hair with deep green eyes.  He wasn’t too bad looking for his early age.  A typical boy of twelve.
	Wendsy, who was still ten but close to being eleven, was still odd.
	Dark hair in twin braided tails.  She was nearly ashen white, almost pale looking at times.  Very flat with no “hips.”  She had a delightful delectable ass, though.  She scarcely smiled, giving her the persona of being kind of Gothic-like.
	Her style of dress was dress.  Short to her knees w/stockings.  Old fashioned dresses, for an era of bygone days.  Nothing loud, nothing trendy, nothing designer.
	She was calm about her demeanor, making her all the more mysterious.  She was also dangerous.  Diabolical, demented, cruel, heartless, and deadly.  She couldn’t explain it to herself, but there was something about Hunter.  Slowly she undone her dress and let it fall.  She was basically flat chested, but had perky nipples just the same.  Fresh white cotton panties, snuggly hugging her body.
	Hunter grew hard almost instantly.
	Wendsy stepped closer to him, eyeing him, and without looking down she gripped his prong and massaged it.  She squeezed his balls and with her other hand rubbed his bare ass.  Hunter did nothing but get harder.  His feelings for her were unknown.  Sure she was alright looking, kinda cute.  Sure she was “younger” (and that was a plus).  But she sure was weird.
	Slowly the odd girl went to her knees, she sized up his slick stick, then applied her lips about the knob and began a tantalizing dance open it.  Hunter tensed up, reeling in the new odd sensation that she gave.  She clutched at his balls and dug her fingers into the crack of his ass, fingering his hole.
	Hunter couldn’t help it, he eased his prick into her mouth and she swallowed him.  His eyes rolled, his toes clenched the ground beneath him.  To her dark hair he clutched his fingers, more or less just hanging on as she brought him to a new sensation of ecstasy.

	Behind the two in the cab of the truck:  Jolene had licked her cousin’s shit hole clean of boy spunk.  Her pussy had been well fucked relentlessly by her captor.  Another captor, a pudgy teenage boy had sodomized Christine, electrocuted them, and forced Jolene to suck his balls, cock, and lick Chris’ asshole again after it had been creamed (again.)
	Gunther then wrestled the highly distraught girls out of the truck.  September had Jolene, Gunther Christine.  Both Gunther and September needed a wee bit o’ time for their schlongs to return to life.  Gunther dragged Christine to the rear of the truck and after a bit more wrestling had her “attached” to the large iron ball.  Her feet were chained together and pulling on a lever she was raised up.
	September chuckled.
	Wendsy lay out on the clover, dragging her new lover onto her.  She turned her head to oneside, watching the antics at the tow truck.  Hunter guided his prong into her cunny and she returned her attention to him.