August Moone
Book 2
Roadtrips & Sidetrips
Chapter 27
Welcome to my Nightmare

    --The Other Side of NoWhere--

	Could it get any worse?  The sweet grass was okay, it helped.  But there were other issues. 
	Like?
	Like WHERE THE HELL WHERE THEY!?
	They had no idea.  AN orange sky, really brown ground, really green grass that was more like a wheatfield.  And no canyon behind them.  Wendsy began to walk out to where they had come, Hunter called out after her,
	“Hey, you can’t go out there!” but he didn’t know why he told her that, he was just frightened, he knew something was up, but what?  Wendsy paid him no mind but cautiously stepped one step at a time out to where the canyon had once been.
	September moved up to stand behind her.
	Despite his fears Hunter moved up alongside, too.
	“What?” he asked timidly.
	“It was here.” Wendsy said.
	“What?  What was here?” missing the clue.
	“The canyon.”
	Hunter felt like a dope, ‘Damn.  Oh.  Damn.’
	The canyon wasn’t there now, though.  Nothing was there.  Nothing but desertscape.  From the broken rocky ground the desert began stretching out flat as far as the horizon.  As far left and right, too.  No mountains, no hills, nothing but flat ground for as far as the eye could see.
	Behind them was the opposite, the wheatfield grass field.  They couldn’t see beyond it, the grass stalks towered six to eight feet.  A road of sorts looked to run alongside the field and desertscape, a barrier separating the grass from the desert.
	“What happened to the canyon?” Darla asked slipping up from behind.
	“It disappeared.” September stated.
	“How?  Why?” she persisted.
	“Don’t know.” he answered.
	“We’re not in Kansas anymore.” spoke up Wendsy.

	They stood for a while, Wendsy tempted fate a little more and stepped further out into the desert, turned and looked back.  Nothing changed.  
	“What does this mean?” Hunter asked no one in particular.
	“We’re someplace else.” September surmised.
	“Okay, where?” not too mention “HOW”.
	“A parallel.” Wendsy explained.
	“A what?  Parallel?  What are you talking about, that’s science fiction stuff.”
	“Not really.”   

	A parallel universe, coexisting with the one they new of, they one they came from, born in.  It was silly, ridiculous.  But both Wendsy and her brother were very adamant and convinced that it was so.  Hunter knew he was gullible and liable to believe just about anything, he was easily taken and made the butt of many jokes of which most he didn’t get.  But a parallel universe!?  Ridiculous!
	But then, how was he to explain WHERE he was?  Where was the canyon channel they had come out of?  They had just stepped out of a few feet, walked up to the tall grass, and it was gone!  It didn’t make sense.
	But then again, too; none of this shit made sense!  He cursed himself, he had let himself be drawn in.  Sure he had wanted to screw the girls from his church, Wendsy was pretty good, too.  But after that it had just gotten too far, too much.  
	“So what do we do now?” asked Darla stepping up behind.
	Hunter shrugged.  ’How the fuck should I know?’  Turning looking back to the swaying grass field he saw Stephanie with her legs spread out wide and peeing.  She bit her lip as their eyes met.
	‘Well, at least that son-of-a-bitch Gunther aint here.’ he hoped.
	Scooping up Andrea he and the others began making their way along the so-so sort of road.  If it was a road it was an old one, a very old one.  The grass would suffice to give them some sustenance, it wasn’t much but it was something.  There, too, came to be a trickle of water along the grass field ditch side.  It was clear and drinkable.  Hunter continued to look out to the desertscape side. He didn’t get it, he just didn’t.
	The air was cool, and moving like a stiff breeze but not feeling like one.  No birds there were, no lizards, snakes, or anything in the way of insects or forms of other life.  That was spooky and creeped him out.  The orange sky was something to wonder about, too.
	“Maybe there was a war.” stated September.
	“What?”
	“A nuclear war--”
	“We would have known that, wouldn’t we?”
	“Not really, if it happened somewhere else.”
	Hunter had to digest that; fine, then--that could explain the odd colored sky, what about the disappearing canyon?  Wendsy was still content to believe that they had stepped into a parallel universe.  When he asked of her if there was a way OUT of the parallel universe, she had no answer.
	“I’ve never been so I don’t know.”
	“If you’ve never been (HA!) how do you know that THIS is a parallel!?”  answer that one, bitch!
	“Simple, because it is.”
	Huh?

	Ashley and Mary Kate needed to be carried every now and then, Tammy, too.  Andrea most of the time.  Hunter’s feet and legs hurt just as well, but he didn’t complain.  When they got too awfully tired they stopped, munched on the grass and drank the water.  Then it was all about just “chilling” beside the “road.”  
	There was nothing, no animals, insects, birds.  Only the sound of the trickling water and the gentle sway of the wheat-grass behind them.  They could feel the breath of the air moving, but not like they would if they were in their own universe.
	Hunter still had qualms and questions but kept them to himself.
	He lay back with Andrea curled up into him, she had become “attached” to him.  She went to sleep, Hunter stared up to the curious orange sky, it reminded him of orange sherbet; and there, too, were the lazy drifting clouds, white like normal, but thinner.  They drifted aimlessly across the orange sky like vanilla ice cream streaks in the sherbet…
	At length he closed his eyes.  Somehow he managed to block out the tyrant maniac Gunther Tallywick.  He just knew he was going to have nightmares about the bastard, but perhaps later--now he was just too tired and confused.
	He awoke to find Wendsy on her brother September, both grunting and spanking one another.  Wendsy lay down on her brother, her lovely ass jutting up and down, neither uttering any sensible words--just grunts and groans and pleasing orgasmic moans.
	Stephanie was awake, watching.  She sat up askew from them, legs folded under her, watching absolutely as September’s cock rammed up into Wendsy’s poon.  She saw Hunter awake, their eyes met and then she looked away--then looked back to see Hunter’s prong had come to life.
	Darla and Carlie were still sleeping, curled up back to back on the mossy area just before the grass field.  Tammy and the two twins were bundled together sleeping soundly.  The breeze was kicking up and it seemed to be getting darker.  A night out in the open was going to suck.
	Wendsy checked over her shoulder and saw Hunter was awake.  Her face was emotionless, as usually it was, stoic.  She turned back to continue “riding” her brother, but placed a hand to her dainty ass and parted a cheek.  It was then Hunter realized that he had a boner going.
	He saw Stephanie eyeing his prong, he grew a little embarrassed and didn’t know what to do.  Wendsy checked him again, her face showed a little distress, as well as anger. ’get your cock over here and fuck me!’ she seemed to convey.
	The conveyance was received and Hunter slowly moved over and pressed his aching bone against Wendsy’s ass flesh.  She raised up her hips, September’s prong still in her pounding away.  Both September and Wendsy held her ass cheeks open, her asshole clenching tight awaiting cock introduction.
	Hunter checked Stephanie, their eyes met and he thought he saw the girl smile.  She gave the slightest hint of embarrassing smile, and it was then that he noted that her hands were buried between her legs moving about.  Was she masturbating?  Wendsy took holt of his dick and pulled it in, Hunter returned his attention to the task at hand and poked his way into Wendsy’s corn hole.

	It was at least a good way to clear one’s mind, he concentrated solely on humping and making good with cumming.  Well, one out of two wasn’t bad.  His cock was all cummed out; not to say that Wendsy’s poop chute wasn’t tight--it was--it was just that his cock was cummed out, fucked out.  He tried and tried, pounded deep and could “feel” September’s bone in Wendsy’s body.  It was creepy and freaky and not all sexually thrilling.
	He must have shown some distress in his dilemma as suddenly a hand came to his bare sweaty ass.  It wasn’t Wendsy’s, it wasn’t September’s.  It was Stephanie’s.  Small circles she did on his young tender marred ass.  Suddenly he began to feel a surge of orgasmic pleasures seething through his nads, his groin and yea his cock.  He began to jerk and finally cum, pounding Wendsy’s asshole as hard as he could.
	Wendsy made some odd audible noise as Hunter ploughed her, she smacked her cheeks and Hunter finally pulled out, her hole full of cock grease.  She squeezed her cheeks and Hunter sat back on his heels, watching his cum ooze out of her backdoor.  
	September had cum, too, so now there was a steady stream of cum oozing from both orifices.  September’s prong slipped out of his sister’s quim and shot loads up the crack of her ass.  Wendsy tried stuffing her hole with his cock; but it, too, was shagged out and unable to maintain erection.
	Wendsy then turned about, lathered in a sheen layer of sex sweat.  She planted her fresh fucked pussy onto her brother’s face and then went down onto Hunter’s cock.  Hunter enjoyed it, he heard slurping sounds from both September and Wendsy.  Off to one side, right up against him remained Stephanie, she still caressed his butt.
	Wendsy pulled off of the schlong, Hunter reeled his head back, he felt as if his cock was ready to shoot another massive wad of love juice.  Suddenly he got (received) another (joyous) surprise from Stephanie, she cuddled up behind him, one hand caressing his balls while the other massaged (masturbated) his cock!
	He bit down on his lip, it felt pretty dang good.  When he looked down Wendsy had moved out of the way and Darla was there, turning about and inching her ass up to him!  Hunter didn’t know what to think, he wouldn’t have thought she would.  He hadn’t thought Stephanie would have, either.
	Wendsy sat back on her heels, friggin her young snatch, her face semi glowing but somewhat sternly appearing, too.  She seemed like she was concentrating hard, focusing in on Darla.  She looked up to Stephanie and then moments later Stephanie’s hand began angling his cock to Darla’s presenting asshole.
	She moved his small elongated prong up and down the crack, teasing the girl’s pussy and everything.  Hunter took it upon himself to penetrate--one hole was just as good as the other.  Darla BACKD up actually, her body tensed up and so did Hunter’s.
	Darla went down to angle her ass end up, Hunter slid his prick into her pussy, hands clamped tight on her hips, he went fully in and humped until cumming.  And he came a lot, too.  The feeling was terrific--if not enduring.  He felt himself squirting repeatedly, cumming hard and long until finally his cock just softened up.

	Surprisingly there was warmth inside the grass field.  Curling up together helped, too.  Hunter’s cock ached for several hours, and even the time he needed to pee--his cock ached.  When he awoke to pee he so noted September “dogging” Carlie.  Hunter didn’t care, he peed away from everyone and then curled back up with Andrea into him.

	The following day:  pretty much the same as the previous.  They walked until tired, ate the grass, rested, drank the water, napped, and repeat the previous steps until darkness; then they retired to the sanctity of the grass for a night’s sleep.
	In the morning(s) Hunter got it with Wendsy at least once, nailing her in the twat, ass, or mouth.  She would bring him to orgasm at least once.  At around the noon type time Hunter found himself coupled with Darla, Carlie, or Stephanie.  Pussy, asshole, mouth.  In the mid afternoon (three-ish), he found himself humping on Ashley, Mary Kate, Tammy, and/or Andrea.  Sometimes he managed to cream on them (or in.)  At the evening rest period for the night he was once more screwing Wendsy.
	It seemed to be a ritual.  One that after a while he didn’t mind.  He stil had issues of doing things with the wee ones, but he got over it.  September was, too, highly involved, highly.  In the morning, noon, mid afternoon, and final rest period, he was plugging one of the girls himself.

	On about their Fifth Day--yeah, fifth day, something new to the scenery:  the desert side gave way to regular dirt that segued to short croped soft thick rich moss.  Dandelions and other assorted weeds popped up, the breezey air felt different as well but it couldn’t be ascertained as to how or why or what.
	The tall ever swaying grass field suddenly stopped and there was something of a meadow.  In the meadow were deadwood trees, misshapen oddities with no leaves, just bare branches twisted this way and that.  Rolling hills here and there, barren rocky ground here and there, and something of a mountain on the horizon.
	The sky of orange sherbet remained the only constant.
	The “road” became more of a road they were familiar with, less crumbled rock and more dirt.  A ditch ran along each side with the right side having the water, which had grown in size and depth.
	A lodge pole fence there came to be, wild roses growing alongside.
	Wildflowers and bees.  A rabbit and a pair of chipmunks.  Some birds there came to be, too.  The deadwood trees soon began to show signs of life as well, becoming deciduous trees with a few conifer trees thrown in, too.
	The trees began to thicken up, on either side of the road.  The lodge pole fencing segued into regular slat fencing consisting of three 6 foot length flat pieces of wood nailed to a five foot log jammed into the earth.
	“Are we still in the parallel world, Wendsy?” Darla asked.
	Wendsy didn’t know, she shrugged.  
	“LOOK!” suddenly shouted Stephanie.
	They all looked.  Stephanie pointed to some semblance of civilization:  a small wooden structure.  It was on the right out in the middle of nowhere.  Quickly Hunter and September made for it.  No particular reason, but it was a clue just the same.
	T’werent nuttin in the shed ‘ceptin’ a 50 lbs. sack o’ seeds (or grain) and a 50 lbs. sack o’ dirt!  (poof dirt at that.)  Two different types of shovel, a hoe, an iron rack, welders gloves, a hand saw, and a hatchet.  There was the strong smell of creosote in the timbers of the structure.  
	It wasn’t much of a find, but it was something.

	Hunter and September paused on the way back, watching as Darla stood just inside the fence--ass out, standing, hands clamped to the fence, legs spread apart--passing a load.
	On the other side by the road Tammy squatted for a pee, Stephanie squatted for an unloading, Mary Kate stood with Wendsy helping her poop by spreading the child’s cheeks while in the standing position.  September already had wood and Hunter found himself slowly jerking off.
	Though watching a girl pee and/or poop (especially poop) was kinda disgusting, Hunter found it also kinda intriguing.  Getting closer the girls didn’t stop their “business”.  When he himself had to “go” he did so without anyone seeing him.  He hated having to use the grass to clean his bottom, but there was little choice.  Farting and peeing in front of the girls was still a go, though.
	They slept under a large spreading chestnut tree, finding it’s nut offering plentiful and delicious.  The trees were getting thicker, still a mixture of leaves and needles.  Some were recognized as pines and cedars as well as oaks and other assorted unknown type deciduous trees.
	Squirrels and rabbits began showing.  Birds could be heard in the trees but not seen.  The breezes brought along a sweet smell, it was pleasant, serene.  ’I guess for a parallel world this isn’t so bad.’ Hunter mused to himself.
	Their long enduring walking on bare feet had created blisters aplenty and caused incredible aches.  Their rest periods were extended and Hunter wished they had made at least shoes of some sort from the tall grass field.
	But with the shed, the fences, the road--all led to the conclusive notion that civilization was just down the road.  They hoped.  They walked on the grassy part, avoiding the roses, and when their feet got too tired and hot they walked in the ever constant water.
	The proof that civilization WAS just down the road came with the group coming up on an old tire.  An old timey tire, from back in the groups grandparents’ time.  It was old and the rubber well worn, but not rotting.  The iron spokes weren’t even rusting.
	And then:
	The road well lined with huge chestnuts and oaks dipped somewhat and at the bottom of the small hill there was a car.  It was of their grandparents’ time, too.
	“A 1930 something.” September quipped as they came upon the vehicle.  It wasn’t “showroom” style, but not well worn or weathered.  A two-door with sloped rear end trunk and boxy-like.  Nothing was in it, including the key and figuring out how to “hotwire” it was out.
	There were more of those “sheds” found containing about the same thing as the first one encountered.  Sometimes the “seed” sacks were different, as were some of the implements used.
	They moved on.

	On the noon of their 7th day, civilization.  Of sorts.
	It was a building.  Of sorts.  On further inspection it was a gas station.  From an era long-long ago.  (approx. circa 1930 to be exact.)  Three tall red pumps on a green cement island.  Their wording was unfamiliar with the kids and didn’t seem to be American English that they knew of.
	The building was something like a small one car garage (service garage w/lift) and a grocery store.  A small house was askew out back.  There was a garden and a large woodpile, smoke house, and another old timey car.
	There were words on the side of the building that again, the kids could make sense of.  Old tires with and without the rubber.  Stacks and stacks of light green thick hard soda bottles--empties.  An old washer with the ringer thingy on top.  Nothing inside, though.  
	No one seemed to be about, all seemed quiet and still--and lifeless.
	There were two huge bay windows; again, it had the strange writing that no one knew.  The windows were kinda dirty and smudged, but inside was like looking at a museum:  barrels, boxes, crates, push carts, antique cash register on the counter, cans and cans and cans of stuff behind the counter; a post office type thing in the corner, small aisles with more cans, sacks of whatever here and there, and Hunter sighted the red ice box supposedly containing soda bottles.
	On a dare and a chance he twisted the dull brass knob of the odd colored green door.  Inside was a major mustiness.  Cautiously they moved inside, Hunter slowly eyeing the ice box moved ever so slowly to it, looking all around with shifty eyes of wonder.  ’What IS this place?’
	At the ice box he stopped.  September had picked up a few cans of whatever, though the words were unreadable, there were at least the “pictures” to go by.
	There, too, were other things other than food.
	Like dolls.  Music boxes.  Toy vehicles.  And most of all--clothes!
	There were children’s clothes and adult.  But strangely not much of a variety, bib overall type, farmer’s wear.  Boots there were, too.  Long sleeve and short sleeve shirts.  All appearing to be unisex.  
	The bib overalls (and coveralls, too) were not quite like the denim wear they were used to, these clothes were comfortable, soft, and some with a quilted inner lining.  There didn’t seem to be any underwear, though.
	Semi-reluctantly September and his sister put on a pair of the odd clothes, but not the shoes.  No one could wear any shoes for a while, until their blistered feet heeled.  Hunter dressed as well, as did the little girls all.
	Thereafter it was a looksee into the ice box.
	Hunter was surprised, ten-fold; inside he found bottles and bottles of soda pop.  Again the words he could not read, but the bottles were strangely COLD!  Ice cold!  (though no actual motor or means of electricity could be determined.)
	No bread, but peanut butter.  No jelly, but beans.  (candy type beans.)  Licorice and assorted stick candy cane-like treats.  It was a bonanza for the kids.  Clothes, food, drinks!  What more could they ask for??  They all looked around, but there wasn’t much more to see.  Wendsy noted that there was no light switches, but a hanging lamp there was anyways.  There was a pot bellied stove, a checker board on a small half barrel by the window.  Mason-like jars of canned fruits--peaches, nectarines, apples, and possibly strawberries.
	There were magazines, too:  all unreadable.
	And those dolls?  Not human but cat-like creatures, something similar to like dressing up one’s own pussy cat.  But these doll-cats were more refined, almost human-like.  
	And what was even more curious was those magazines, all depictions of cat-like creatures--in clothes and everything just as if they were human! It was uncanny and a little weird.
	There was a door to the service garage and a half door to the rear of the building where there was crates of food items, 100 lbs. bags of beans and other assorted stuff like that there.  More clothes, too.  Huge galvanized pans, pots, and wash tubs.  Saddles and related horsey stuff.  
	Off to one side, like right directly behind the garage area--with door, there was something of an “office.”  Nothing readable there, either, but what Hunter and September found amusing was the “nudey” calendar--the nude girls were cat creatures, seductively posed on rocks, sitting on fences, hay bales, sofas.  No clothes on like in the picture magazines so it was guessed that they were nude!

	Hunter knocked on the door of the small house.
	Nothing.
	Out back there was a line of wash, just sheets.  They were warm to the touch.  There was a breeze out, very nice & sweet it was.  Two huge chestnut trees were in the grassy yard.  There were flowers and shrubs and everything like that there.  But no one was home.
	A meadow out behind with a large (wide) river rushing thru its middle.  It wasn’t deep, though, just wide.  And absolutely no one about.
	“This is creepy.” mouthed Hunter.
	Surprisingly even Wendsy admitted that it was so.  She could deal with the weird language on the building and such, the cars, the stuff in general.  But there was the feeling amiss that peoples should be about, cat people or whoever.  And they weren’t.
	There were found three bathrooms.  One was in the house, one to the one side of the garage with the other behind grocery store in the store room.
	“With the Post Office,” mused Wendsy, “it means that there are others about, other places.” so she surmised.  It was no guarantee, but it was assumed.
	They stayed in the house, crashing out in the living room.  There was a fireplace there, and a well stocked kitchen.  Plus the bathroom with running water.  It took a day to find that there was a wood fired water heater out behind the house, and once done everyone got to take a nice good soaking in the tub.
	All in all, Hunter decreed that THIS place could be okay.  Providing that the original owners didn’t come back and kick them out.  Wendsy spent some time trying to decipher the strange language.  But there were symbols involved and she would need a LOT of time to finger it out--and a code book wouldn’t hurt.
	And though they now were wearing clothes, Wendsy and September still went naked.  Hunter did now and then as well, so did Tammy and mostly Andrea.  (little kids usually did so anyways.)  Hunter didn’t know what was going on, but had a pretty good idea--although he wasn’t sure and didn’t know how she was doing it; but he surmised that Wendsy had some sort of mental grip on the others--maybe even her brother, he didn’t know.  (and he casually wondered if she was doing something to him…)
	But, anyways, the thing about getting naked and engaging in sex acts continued even after settling down in their new home.  That was okay with Hunter, he was now getting used to it and it seemed more of a natural thing.  Wendsy seemed to get the “impression” from Hunter of what he wanted, anticipating his “needs” before he himself was aware of them.  Then, one, or two, or ALL of the girls would undress and “present” themselves to him.  
	*September was in on the deal, too!

	In the garden there grew various veggies.  Carrots, spinach, lettuce, potatoes, squash, and something other in the gourd family.  Wild strawberries were found not far away, cantaloupe and watermelons were found across the road in the other direction.  September and Hunter struck off one day to walk the road aways to see if there were any homes or such as the like about.
	They returned just before evening reporting nothing.
	The stove in the kitchen of the small house was wood fired.  The girls made quick their domestic duties and made the meals.  It seemed perfect.  They had food, drink, shelter, clothes, and absolute freedom.  Hunter worried, though.  Wendsy and September had to share in his worry, they felt that there was something amiss, something had happened to the original residents of the place, and that was not a good thing.

	One thing was noted but not recognized as a problem, just something to note.  No meat.  Vegetables and fruits only.  ’Perhaps the cat people of this universe are not meat eaters, but vegetarians.’ so stated Wendsy.  Hunter didn’t know, didn’t care.  He and September tried their luck fishing, with little success.  The “river” was merely ankle deep, but fifty yards wide.
	One morning they heard what sounded like cackling chickens, but on further investigation it was not chickens but turkeys.  Wild turkeys!  This was met with some enthusiasm.  Meat!
	There were no weapons save for a blunderbuss over the fireplace.
	It took the boys two days to figure it out.
	They figured the turkeys had moved on, but it was worth a romp anyways.  The boys were ansy and needed a break from the house.  Just out of sight from the house and some hundred yards from the river, they found two things:  another shed and a well.
	The shed had the same stuff as the others.
	The well was uncovered and built from rocks in the area.
	The boys peered down, saw nothing of importance and moved off.
	A cry of sorts was heard--from the well!

	There was a rope and a spindle and a bucket.  No light source.
	“I’m the lightest, I better go down.” Hunter said, no slant to September having a bit of “girth” to him.  From somewhere deep down in the well there was indeed crying.  Someone was down there and it sounded child-like.  Wendsy and Darla had come, Wendsy had “sensed” something was up.
	Wendsy determined that SHE was the lightest.  Hunter partially wanted to argue with her--on a manly sort of ego thing, it was HIS job, and he didn’t want to show off being afraid.  But he WAS afraid, it was a very closed in space and dark, too.  Wendsy WAS light and had already made up her mind that she was going.
	September and Hunter therefore held the rope and with Wendsy in the bucket she was lowered down into the depths of the well out of sight in less than a minute.
	She could be heard, though.  “STOP!” she echoed up.
	The boys held the rope and could tell when someone “else” had come onboard.  The added “weight” wasn’t too much of a problem, though and the two began pulling the bucket back up.
	Darla leaned over to help grab a hand.  They all saw Wendsy’s head and a furry one.  (furry?)
	Finally the bucket was up.  A furry creature was latched onto Wendsy and wasn’t letting go for nothing!  It turned its head, it was orange and white, short hair, green eyes, pointed ears atop its head.  A cat person!
	Actually, kitten.  And in human terms approx. ten years young.
	It had no tail but small minute whiskers.
	It wore green shorts and a red checkered vest.  No jewelry and no shoes.  It appeared to be very frightened, dirty, and frightened.  And it wouldn’t let go of Wendsy for nothing.

                                            Was This Trip Really Necessary?

	It was much like looking thru a cloud, or something relatively close.  A fuzziness enveloped around a puffy cloud.  There was no sensations, no feeling of wholeness.  And there was nothing to be “seen” through the cloud, but there was the anticipation that there soon would be.
	One indication was the brightness of the cloud’s center.  Along the edges the green area began to illuminate and pulsate until it was a bright white-ish color and pulsing so fast that it was now unseen.
	Then, the center of the cloud dissipated and there were trees to be seen.  It was like looking thru the viewing aspect if one were a bird.  The trees were tall pines, very tall pines and there were a LOT of them.  There was still the lack of “sensations” and the feeling of wholeness, it was so noted that this experience of segueing from one realm to the next was unlike previous traipsings. 
	 He wasn’t sure for certain if this was a good thing or what.  And he was not aware of his pregnant significant “other”, either.  
	He soared just above the trees and seemed to have no manner of control about his flight.  Was he perhaps a bird?  He recalled (rather dimly) that in past times he had hosted another’s body, perhaps this was happening now--and he was in a bird of some sort.
	The “peering thru the cloud” view was still with him, but the center of which was much more clearer.  There was a river, small, but a river nonetheless.  Boulders as big as houses, he saw some deer, other birds, and a small winding dirt road.
	In the distance he saw what looked to be a windmill.  That was something and he found that by concentrating on it he could make for it.  He was a bird.  Maybe.
	Just before making the windmill he was attacked, by another bird, a big bird, a red tailed hawk.  It squawked at him and he thought he heard “Get out of here!  My area!  My area!”
	“I-I’m just passing thru!” squawked August.
	“I don’t care, my territory, you no pass, get out or I’ll kill you!”
	“Asshole!” August refocused on the windmill and once more tried for it, the red tailed hawk was after him.  They collided in the air and August felt strong sharp talons piercing his body.  This was not good.
	Suddenly, though, a large crow/raven-like bird joined in on the fracas, the red tailed hawk yelling, “No fair, no fair!” and flapped off still yelling, “No fair!  No fair!”
	August flapped to the motionless windmill and watched as the huge massive black crow flapped down beside them.
	“Hello.” it said.
	“Hell-hello.” August chirped (not actually chirping) back.
	The bird fluttered its wings, passed a massive dropping, farted, then stretched its neck up to the noon day sun.
	“This is new.” it said.
	August gulped and found an uncontrollable urge to preen himself.
	In doing such he discovered that he was a jay, a blue jay, and a big one.
	He could live with that, he hoped.
	The crow/raven looked to him curiously.
	“What?”
	“Good grief, you don’t know me, do you?”
	August Blue Jay shrugged his wings, “Uhm, should I?”
	To wit he received a “wing” flap to his head.  “It’s me, dumb ass.”
	“Charlotte!?” he was shocked, and elated.  “Oh!  Oh, oh yeah, of course, I-I knew that, I know that who you are!”  bad save.
	Charlotte clipped him again.  “dumb ass.”
	There was no way to save face, so he dropped a hefty load of bird poop and strutted on the landing of the windmill.
	“So what is this place?” Charlotte asked.
	“I have no idea.” 
	“Yer not real good with this bouncing from one universe to the next, are you?”
	August took note that her demeanor seemed to have changed, she was more forthright, aggressive.  Maybe it was because she was a crow?  He wondered how SHE had become the crow and he the blue jay?  Not that it mattered.
	“Anything there?” Charlotte asked, looking down to the rustic homestead nestled in the woods.
	A two-story log home, a small corral, wood fence, some out buildings and a rustic barn.  A large 4-by sat parked in front, a Suburban alongside the home, and an old army jeep w/no motor.  The Suburban and 4-by were of August’s time period, though he couldn’t be certain of the exact year.
	“I’ve never been a BIRD before.” he chirped.  He wondered casually what ELSE he could be, then became acutely aware of his Narly Senses kicking in.  Scouring the ground he saw nothing in particular going on to alert him so, so he fluttered down for a closer looksee.  His mate followed suit.
	He checked the house, first, landing on a window sill looking into what apparently was a kitchen.  No one there.  Fluttering about the fron the found a family room, it was empty, too.  In the living room, though, a woman was crashed out on the country sofa.
	His Narly Senses weren’t directing him to her, though.
	He fluttered upstairs and peeked into all the rooms.  Nothing.  Nada.  Zilch.  Zip. Nothing of interests.
	“What about those?” inquired Charlotte, the outbuildings.
	One of the outbuildings was something of a shed, housing gardening and farm stuff.  Another emitted a horrific smell and was avoided.  Another had more farm related stuff.  Finally they fluttered to the only other structure left, the barn.
	Flying in thru an open loft window they settled down on the upper railing and peered down.  If birds could smile, August was smiling.  Down behind a wall of baled hay “activity” was in full progress.
	Two adult men stood near naked, one man with graying hair at his temples, a few days growth of bear, stood with his pants and underwear off, shoeless, but wearing a long sleeved green rugged man’s shirt.  The other adult male was taller, clean shaven, robust, butt naked.
	There were as many as three teenage boys, the youngest approx. 12 while the oldest was 20ish. The remaining youth in his mid teens.  All three of them were equally nude.
	Center of attraction was a girl approx. 18.  She lay out on a bale of baled hay, butt naked, fingering her well fucked fresh-fucked poon.  She was ripe, tender, and delicious.  The fifteen year old was doinking her, moving in and out of her in a rapid manner, concentrating solely on the fuck, sucking on her bodacious titties now and then, but striving to fuck to cum.
	The other male members surrounded them and masturbated, some apparently had already scored with the girl and were just awaiting Round Two.  The teens were all related, as were the two adult males.  In facts, they were ALL related, one adult male was the girl’s father, the other her father’s brother.  The boys were the girl’s brothers.
	The teen boy got his nut, finally!  He humped to get every ounce of joy from the experience, pulled out and glided his aching cum spewing nozzle against her swollen labia, then numbly fell away humping his cock in a delirious after orgasm manner.
	The uncle took his second turn, bringing the girl’s legs up against his chest, removing his shirt beforehand.  He pushed his rod into her sex and drove her for a minute, then pulled out and humped her gash for another minute before plunging his fuck stick into her asshole.
	The girl gripped the hay bale and hung on.
	With one of her brother’s standing near, the unshy girl reached out and began fondling his dangling balls and cock.  Another brother stood very close to her jerking his pud.  She reached out for him, too, but dragging his tool to her lovely young 18 yr old mouth and devouring him.
	The uncle blasted a hot load of manly spunk into her asshole, reeled in it, pumped madly for a minute and then pulled out, squirting one last gob onto the girl’s sex.
	August nearly fell off the railing he was so worked up!
	The family fuckers finally had their fill and slowly washed themselves off from a nearby cement washbasin.  One by one they exited the barn.  August flew back out the loft window followed closely by his mate.

	                                         *****

	He got the flying part down, it seemed “automatic”.  It was tiring and he enjoyed lucking out to find the “drafts” that kept him aloft w/o having to exert so much energy flapping.  
	“I gotta find something to eat, I’m starved!” mentioned Charlotte.
	“I’m not into grubs and other bird food, fuck that.” mouthed back August.  
	“What else is there?”
	The two flew, rested in the tops of some great pines, scoured the countryside, chatted with the other birds in the area, warned them about the pissed off red tailed hawk, then continued on their way to the town that was mentioned by the others.  
	“Lotssa foods there!” quipped a small common woodsy bird.  August recalled seeing birds aplenty scavenging for morsels on the ground at the various parking lots.  This inhabiting a bird was --dare I say-- for the birds!

	The town was found, it was a sprawling one with a HUGE soccer field right at the edge of the town and the forest.  A huge park was across the two lane road.  Small houses were scattered here and there, and one over there.  A gas station, a flower shoppe, a middle school.  August took a breather from flapping to rest in a large oak and check out the various kiddies on the playground.
	The town was just a small country town, surrounded by lush rolling hills with mountains on three sides, snow capped.  It was the Fall of the year, November-like.  It was a town of no more than 2-3000 peoples.
	It DID have a fast food restaurant, though--August & Charlotte made for it, drawn in by the smell of burgers!
	He sighted the cast off spilled fries and burger wrappers.  He found then that he was uncontrolling, the bird of which he was inhabiting zoomed here and there pecking at the leavings.  Charlotte did likewise.
	It wasn’t very filling and August could scarcely “taste” anything at all.
	A water fountain that had a leak provided water, that was sustaining and after a goodly drink they perched atop the eatery and basked in the noon day sun.
	“So any ideas about this place, why are we here, ex cetera, ex cetera.”
	“Not a clue.”
	They sat still for a bit, looking over the small town.  Off in the very distance there seemed to be a major highway, or interstate.  Listless white clouds drifted across the sky, the air was chilly; but despite the chilled air--it was not so chilly for a large group of teens disembarking from a large high school bus.  The girls of 15-17 were clad merely in short black knit shorts and white blouses.  Lovely.
	There were some boys, too, but mostly the bus was loaded with the girls and a small support staff.  Another bus pulled up behind the first and mostly boys with a few girls departed it.  Both buses were from the same high school.  August looked strongly upon them and the wheels in his bird noggin churned.

                                                         *****

	“Charlotte.”  “Charlotte.”  “Charlotte?  Oh Charlotte?”  “Charlotte, where are you?” 
	He looked around, and around, and around some more.  But Charlotte the crow-bird was no where to be seen.  “Son-of-a-bitch!” he was angered, worried, and concerned.  Mostly concerned.  He fluttered up to a lofty antenna to get a better looksee.  Suddenly, from down on the ground he spotted a doggie, a brown & white coated dog that was on no particular breed type.  And it was female, too.
	After whizzing on a car tire, sniffing a tailpipe of said car, it sat and looked about, tongue lolling about.  August didn’t know what he was preoccupied with the pooch, but there was something--something there.
	The doggie suddenly looked up and barked.  August stared.  The dog got up and took a few steps, then barked again, tail wagging madly, turning in circles very agitated.
	August looked about to see what was up and then realized the dog was barking at him.  Hmmmm
	Fluttering down to the ground he faced the over eager dog.
	“What’s up?” chirped August, not knowing if the pooch could understand him or not.
	“It’s me, silly!” barked the dog.
	August stared at her.  “Holy shit!  How’d you do that!?”
	Charlotte twisted and turned and fell on the ground, “I just thought it!”
	‘She WANTED to be a dog?’  hmmmmm
	Hmmmm, he had had a cat once, a gray stripped thing, goofy outfit.  But he had loved it, at least it was loyal.  He had often thought that once settling down somewhere in a BIG house, he’d once more have a little pussy (cat.)  What was the name of that cat?  Harold.  Harold the cat.
	He conjured on Harold the cat, concentrated hard.  But nothing.
	Not to be undaunted he concentrated harder, if Charlotte could do it surely he could!  Surely.  He hoped.  He didn’t relish the thought of remaining a pesky blue jay all his life--er, well--whatever time he had left in whatever time stream he was in currently.
	Upon sighting in on the gaggle of girls he thought of transforming into a skunk.  The girls would freak--and possibly piss themselves, when a lowly funk ridden skunk wandered into their mist.
	But he had to be careful, too--transforming into some animal might not be prudent--a skunk, mouse, snake, even birds might not be too healthy on several fronts.  He could easily catch some lame vermin disease and/or get shot, trapped, poisoned, and smacked with a broom.
	A lizard?  Raccoon?  Goat, cow, snake, armadillo?
	No--none of those.  Those were likely to get more than a broom sweep.
	He watched (stared) at the gaggle of teen girls.  Very nice.  Very nice indeed.  His chest swelled and he felt a familiar “horny” feeling seething throughout his soul.  Three girls entered into the first bus, two boys came out of the second.  Both lads focused their attention on the girls, too.
	August surmised, thought, considered, and then knew what he wanted to transform into.  Of course!  It was a cinch and the most easiest!