August Moone
Book II
Roadtrips & Sidetrips
Chapter 3
Consequences

	The pool was nice.  Deep down a meandering tunnel that emptied out into a large cavern.  Steam rose from some boulders and there was a natural hot springs happening.  Portions of the watery pool were warm to hot.  Other areas were quite cool.  The deepest part was out in the middle.  The hot springs area reeked a little of sulfur and was rocked in to make a sort of impromptu whirpool-Jacuzzi situation.
	Lighting was provided by glowing crystals and filtered light from the surface piped down via duct work and reflecting mirrors.  It was peaceful and tranquil with only a few visitors screaming while they relaxed.
	Charlotte tried to relax, but there were too many things roaming loose untamed in her noggin’, untethered and causing her some distress.  The “new way of life” just wasn’t sitting well with her.  She wanted to adapt, adopt, and be a part of the shenanigans of August Moone; but she, too, wanted her career back, her family, her lifestyle.  How could she, though?  The yearnings to fully endorse and condone and be a part of the narliness was powerful, she had helped send men up for life for doing what she was doing!
	All around in the great pond, the pools, kids of all ages (ALL ages) were with various adults, Indians as well as various OTHER adults.  It was incredulous and very difficult to deal with.  Shutting her eyes didn’t help.  After half an hour she was up and moving, almost in a panic.

	Along the Way…..
	She trekked and found herself back in the “cafeteria”.  A few Indians and other folk were here, she selected a soda and sat in the same seating area she had been in before.  Most of the seats were wooden handcrafted things, long bench seats of some old style European fashion, along with a mix mash of 1950s dining tables and chairs.  She got a few looks, she was new.  She was also, nude.
	A thought came to her, would someone slip her a Micky, she had come to know that the kids of the underground society of ultimate horror and perversion had induced the kiddies via drugging them.  The manner of which she wasn’t clear on.  There was no mentioning of anything like what August Moone had, the Device Item 0110.
	At length she moved on, hoping not to get lost or distracted on her back to her “room.”  August had promised that they would not be long in the underground reservation, so far as note he had been true to his word, but he WAS a man and therefore quite fallible.
	Naturally she got lost, she turned down a hall she thought she recognized but after coming to the deerskin door she thought led into the room she had first occupied, she opened it to find a white man shagging a young Japanese girl.
	“Oh, sorry!” Charlotte exclaimed.
	The man with strong Italian features, robust, rugged, thick dark short cropped black hair, stopped humping the tend year old girl on her back on the iron cot bed and looked at Charlotte.
	He reared his head back and smiled, “Charlotte!” he said with definition.
	Charlotte didn’t’ recognize him, but he surely did her.
	He stood, cum strands and all and approached her.  She was in panic, part of her wanted to flee, clear to the surface (wherever the hell that was) and the other was curious as to how this person new of her.
	“You don’t remember me, do you?”
	“Uh, uhm, er, uhm, sorry; No, I don’t.”
	“Lieutenant Cowel, LA Police Department, we were at a symposium in San Diego last summer--”
	The adult pornography symposium.  She recalled.  He was a nice man, a family man, career in law enforcement.  She peeked into the room as they shook hands, both naked with one having cum strands leaking.
	Cowel smiled, he was Italian, an import from the streets of Philly.  He looked back over his shoulder, “Uhm, that’s Kamiko.” he then seemed a little uncomfortable.
	“Uh, won’t you come in and join us?”
	The invite, Charlotte didn’t know what to say, or do.  Suddenly the man was holding her hand and leading her in.  Charlotte couldn’t believe it, she actually entered the din.
	Kamiko sat up, a pretty girl, young, tender at ten.  She didn’t look abused, ‘cept for the swollen “lips” of her equally young cunny.  She DID look drugged, though.  Or out of it.  She sat up and just had the beginnings of budding breasts.  Long silky black hair, a sweet girl, she was quiet and reserved.  Charlotte had no friggin’ idea what	 she (herself) was doing in the room.
	“I didn’t know you--uhm, came to this place.”
	“A friend--a friend brought me.”
	“A friend, huh, nice friend.  Anyone I know?”
	“August, August Moone.”
	Lt. Cowel smiled and nodded, August got around, he knew a lot of people.  “You prefer Boys or Girls?” he further asked stepping over to the Japanese girl.  No one else was in the small ten by room.
	“Uh, uhm, uhm, I guess, er, uh, b-boys.”
	Cowel nodded, smiled and popped his cock into Kamiko’s mouth.  She instantly began sucking it.  Cowel placed his hand behind the girl’s head and “helped” her along.
	“H-how long have you been (pause) coming here?”
	“A while.” he said as his cock went to full strength and began earnestly humping the young girl’s mouth.  Charlotte would have never thought to see the lieutenant in such a place.  But then again, she would have thought the same for her, too!
	“Wanna have a go?” he asked politely, easing his cock out and rubbing it against the child’s face.  He then eased the drugged girl down on the cot, opening her legs and fingering her well fucked snatch.
	Charlotte didn’t know what he was on about, to SUCK him or suck the girl.  Neither one Charlotte was in the mood for.  Cowel leaned down and began sucking on Kamiko’s breasts, still fingering her pussy.  Charlotte didn’t know what to do, there were options, rightful options.  But she felt her feet were firmly planted where she stood.  She was not really into girls, not really.  But was not opposed, either.
	At once point in the room with Danny and Becky, Charlotte had awaken from recalling poignant parts of her life to find Becky munching on her cunt.  The sensation was okay, one of the young boys suckled her breasts, another waited in the wings.  She had looked down to watch Becky tongue lash her pussy, her legs were pulled back and Becky happily noshed.
	There had been those times in her life, too, that Charlotte had done likewise; during a sleepover with girlfriends, on a dare.  During one particular sorority venue Charlotte had to drink beer from a sorority pleb’s pussy--the beer was poured down the naked girl’s chest and Charlotte was there to chug.
	She wasn’t a big cunt eater, she preferred boys.
	But there was a strange driving force, it annoyed her at first, but she relented and found herself on her knees, staring at Cowel’s fingers as he diligently frigged the young girl’s poon.
	Charlotte gulped, curiously wondered if there were other “forces” at work; August’s damnedable Device or some Indian bullshit!?
	In an instant those worrisome thoughts were expunged and she was happily contented licking out the little girl’s cum laden poon.

	Her next recollection was awakening to find Lt. Cowel boning her.  She was on the floor with the LA Detective, the man’s strong willed schlong sending incredible vibes into her pussy and throughout her body.  Her nipples even tingled.
	He sucked on her breasts, each one, nipping the nipples and continuing to drive her into ultimate euphoria.  She wasn’t opposed.  It was striking, it was odd, and it was strange.  What had become of her?  To willingly slurp on young boyish schlongs, to lick boys’ ass cracks and to suck on their bald tezzies?  To will-nilly prance about naked in a strange-strange (very strange) environment unseen by Normals?
	How could she condone such behavior?  Children were being traded, drugged, and fucked senselessly.  This was a nightmare.  She was a mother, a wife, a professional career person--laying naked on a bear skin rug being fucked relentlessly by a so-so stranger she had met only a year ago!
	She had sucked on Kamiko’s cunt, licked her bung hole, then sucked on her young-young breasts.  Followed by more cunt licking and then some sucking of Cowel’s cock; followed by more earnest cunt sucking of the little Japanese girl while Cowel stuffed his big Italian schlong Char’s corn hole.
	 What had happened to her?  This wasn’t her.  She was a mother, a wife.  Yada-yada-yada.  
	August Moone.
	There was her answer.
	August Moone.  She hated him.  Badly.  He had opened that portion of her psyche she had deemed unfit for social graces.  Single handedly he had pried open her deepest dankness and set free the immorality of her past.
	But there was a small portion of her psyche that was grateful.
	Actually fucking grateful!
	She had known for a LONG time that her dark past was secretive.  Every now and then it crept into her consciousness, taking in the young boys she bathed--her own boys.  Every now and then while camping and seeing boys peeing in the woods, her pussy became sopping wet.  Every now and then while hubby boned her into sweet oblivion, she thought of being gang banged by the high school boys when she was nigh but thirteen years young!
	“Sooooo, where’d you find her?” Charlotte asked, she had to, her mind was driving her crazy and she needed a new line of thought.
	“Uhm, she was--” he drawled off, mulling.  He had completed the task of fucking her, drained his lizard in her cunny and then lay off on the bearskin relaxing.  She didn’t love the man but felt the human condition of desire, to snuggle.  She had the same feelings for (and against) about August.
	“She was someone I was looking for.”
	“Oh?”
	“A missing girl.  Part of a child porno ring in Los Angeles.”  then, “Following a few leads I finally tracked her down to this one punk he peddled porno and kids (Charlotte raised an eyebrow--the man didn’t seem to approve of such people--but then, he was HERE!)  He sold kids into prostitution.”
	“What happened?”  “Who was the guy?”  “Where did you find her/him?”  the “reporter” in her came out.
	Cowel kept the story to himself for awhile, he sat up and wanted to go to the cafeteria.  Charlotte was asked if she would like to come along.  She felt awful, a slut.  The worst kind.  In a world of hellish proportions, and she was so-so willingly a part of it!
	She took his hand and he helped stand her up.  With Kamiko in the middle they made their way to the cafeteria.
	During lunch Cowel completed Charlotte’s questions by simply concluding that he had found the Suspect, Juan Connez, in a high rise waterfront building, it was a penthouse suite where the Suspect did his thing with porno movies.  He had several “bitches” stoned out of their minds all over the place.  Some were young kids, most were teenage and young adult, including some boys and teen boys.
	The Suspect’s partners met Cowel and his partner.  One was gunned down in the hall way, another “fell” down the stairs, another “fell” out the nearest window.  The lead Suspect got away.  Natch.
	However, upon searching the Suspect’s suite, Cowel found Kamiko.
	She had been kidnapped by the Suspect and “traded” around at certain clients.  One was a businessman in a limo, he had Kamiko lay across his lap to be spanked for being a bad school girl.  He stripped her down and while the limo drove thru the streets of downtown LA, he spanked her and sodomized her with dildos.  She at length sucked him dry before being released back into the loving arms of her “new daddy”, the Suspect.
	On Kamiko’s first “visit” to the Suspect’s suite, he took her into his private bedroom and lightly drugged her (so as she wouldn’t fuss and resist so much.)  He then “broke her in” himself.
	Another particular client was a Japanese woman, she was a business woman who wanted the girl, Kamiko pranced about in her underwear and then the two bathed together before going to bed.  The woman did many naughty things to the slightly drugged Kamiko.  And the Suspect was paid lots of money for this venture, too!
	When Cowel found the girl, “Did Juan have sex with you?” he asked already knowing.  Though she was ten, she was not naïve, not any longer.  She had been in Juan’s care for a week, and raped/sodomized many times a day (and night) during such time.
	“For the police report,” Cowel told her, “you’ll have to SHOW me what he did.”
	At first the still semi drugged girl didn’t know what to do.  Not unitl Cowel whipped out his schlong and got the girl’s hand and had her stroke him.  Moments later with light pressure behind her pretty little head he entered her mouth.
	When his cock was at its fullest potential he laid her out on the bed.  Kamiko opened her legs wide and Cowel fucked her cunny.
	Her asshole was nextly.
	By the time his cock was spurting juices up her hole he heard on his police radio cops coming to his aid.  (His partner had been shot outside in the hallway.)
	There was little time.  Cowel dressed and dressed the little girl, then scurried away, out the back stairs and whisked the child off--never to be seen again.
					****
			A Couple of Months and a Day

	It was an experience she was not likely to forget.  Not for a long while or ever!  Frivolity and debauchery, immorality and perversions; she witnessed and endured.  Most of which she did not really 100% approve of.  Most.  She still struggled with the concept, she felt that she was on the verge of totally turning her back on her old life.  But to fully endorse her new one, that was still going to take a bit of doing.
	In the interim she chilled out and “went with the flow.”
	True to his word they had only stayed at the underground reservation a short while, underground timing meant nothing.  When you got tired, you slept, when you had had enough of sleep, you woke up.  (When you were horny you fucked.)
	Danny and Wendy along with Rusty remained--with August and Charlotte.  August had spent some time in a private convo with Ten Bears and some other OLD Indians, when Charlotte asked what the “meeting” was about he skirted the subject with other drivel--Charlotte got the point, it wasn‘t any of her fucking business.
	But he was clearly miffed or perplexed or something.  
	“Where we off to, now?” she asked as they bounced back down the rutted hidden road.
	“Wherever fate takes us.” he returned.
	The panel motored on to a paved road, segued to a better road, then onto to a highway.  Where they were going or what they would do once they got there--unknown.  Charlotte didn’t care.  As the miles ticked off on the odometer her hopes of returning to her old life and ways faded into a memory.

	The Centennial State came to be, long stretches of grassland with the foreground being the majestic Rocky Mountains.  The skies were graying up, thoughts aplenty weighed heavy on August’s mind, long conversations he had been in with Ten Bears and the other Ancient Indians who knew stuff.  
	Charlotte remained quite with thoughts to her own.  The kiddies in the back were asleep or playing hand held computer games.  August headed the panel truck north on the 25, destination was in the area of Fort Collins, at another Indian Reservation, here; though, he merely wanted a chat with an Indian Sage--information about the Anasazi and the Other Side.
	August had become convinced that an alternate reality existed, and with the help of the Device, he wanted to go there.  He wasn’t overly sure WHY he wanted to go there, only that he did.  The Indian sages had information on the best locations for “access.”  For now, August wanted to shy away from the only access he knew of.
	At the first rest stop when the rain began to come steady on it was time for a break.  The rain was just a drizzle but threatened to become more.  Clouds of the most dark kind already appeared to be sitting on the interstate just up the way towards Pueblo.  
	Rusty and Wendy needed to make use of the facilities.  Charlotte and August merely stepped out to stretch.  Danny was sound to sleep.  There was no catering truck at this rest stop, but something of a snack bar by the restrooms.  Lightning flashed in the distance, ten million memories and reflections raced through August’s mind; scents aplenty filtered in to confound him.  He briefly smelled creosote, reminding him of some place he had been long, long ago.
	He sighed and found Rusty standing beside him.  He still talked very little if at all.  He made gestures and eye movements, though.  August followed the strange lad’s indications and took note of two objects huddled under a picnic table.
	Once returning to the sanctity of the panel August watched them.  The drizzle of rain was picking up along with a cold biting wind.  Charlotte had returned, Danny still snoozed.
	August contemplated, cracked his fingers and sighed deeply.  He had a notion.  Charlotte ran a brush through her hair and was yapping away, August paid her no mind whatsoever.  Lightning flashed brighter and closer, the clouds of darkness began to come heavier.
	“Are we staying here?” Wendy asked.  She came up between the two forward captain’s seats, she was dressed for once, a little damp from her earlier excursion.
	“Not sure.” August replied.
	Charlotte looked to him, “Something up?” she asked curiously.
	He shrugged.
	Wendy scooted up and was helped into Charlotte’s lap.  August leaned back getting comfy in the seat.  Danny snoozed.

	With the storm making havoc northbound it was decided (solely) to make a retreat and then go east, but remaining in Colorado.  There were many roads leading north before entering Kansas.
	Charlotte noshed on some gum, the scenery out the window was dreary and heavily overcast, but it wasn’t raining.  Charlotte still occupied her lap, August fussed over a Colorado state map.  In the back Rusty sat sipping a soda and methodically picking his nose.  Across from him sat two new newbies, a girl approx. 10-11 and a boy approx. 12-13.  Both were as weird as all get out.  Very strange.  The boy had yet to speak, the girl was polite, reserved, and extremely weird.
	They appreciated the offering of a ride, they had backpacks and obviously on their own.  August didn’t know why but he had a “feeling” about the two.  Sure he wanted to see the girl naked, he wanted to see the boy fuck Charlotte.  He assumed the two were siblings, or possibly cousins.  The girl hadn’t spoken much, she was cold and a little worn out from whatever experience had placed her to be under the picnic table during a rain storm.
	Danny still snoozed.

Revelations of the Odd Kind, Very Odd
	The Other Side.  It was a silly notion but one that nagged August a great deal.  There were other nagging notions, but the one that pestered him the most was the parallel notion, the Other Side.  Had this been the place where the mysterious Cliff Dwellers, the Anasazi, and a host of other Suddenly-there-one-day and then gone the next gone?
	The Other Side.  It was a silly notion; but one worth investigating.  He supposed.  Maybe.  What would it be like?  How different (or similar) was it to HIS world?  
	August had come to believe (realize) that thru the Device he might be able to open up a parallel universe door.  He still wanted to shy away from that place he first entered into the bizarre Other World, that had been an experience he could do well to do without.
	He assumed that there was more to the Other Side than he had experienced.  Good, Bad, Indifferent he didn’t know, but he wanted to.  Why? That he didn’t know.  But he felt that he had done all that he could in his Old World, fucking up in a new one seemed the thing to do!
	And speaking of fucking…

	“Don’t you want to settle down?”
	“Not particularly.”  property taxes, rent, mortgage, furniture and house upkeep, neighbors, nosey neighbors, Mormons dropping by, postman delivering bills--bills--bills.
	“So we’re just going to ride around?”
	She had a valid point, it annoyed August, but it was valid.  Mixed feelings there were about the Other Side, visiting the reservation he only knew about but hadn’t been to, storms--storms--storms prompted August to make adjustments in his itinerary.
	Somewhere in the vicinity of Denver August made two choices, a large folding camp trailer and an extended stay at a KOA (Kamground of America.)  It was nestled in the pines and was partially secluded (the spot August found for the stay.)  Charlotte still wasn’t overly amused, August promised her something a little better later on.
	“An RV?” she surmised.  
	August didn’t say verbally but smiled and nodded.  She could handle that, as long as it was BIG, roomy, and all the comforts of home.  Adopting to her NEW life was coming along nicely.  But still…
	Rusty and Danny instantly stuck off for adventure, hustling into the woods, but scoping out the other extended campers on the sly.  Wendy remained behind, along with the two newbies Wednesday and September.
	The little girl who gave her name as the middle of the week was--was--was kinda cute.  She’d be very cute if she would smile.  But she was not the smiling type; dark hair, dark eyes, raven hair braided in two twin chest length pony tails.  She appeared to be very frail, lily white skin, and very skinny.
	Her brother, September, was a “husky” lad, he was twelve and BIG for his age, kinda stout.  He was more jovial and outgoing than his sister, and more helpful than Rusty & Danny, he stayed behind to help lend a hand with August assembling the tent trailer.
	Charlotte had tried getting into a polite convo with the odd girl, Wednesday, who also would reply to be addressed as “Wendsy”.  The girl gave no info on how she and her brother had come to be in such a dire situation.  She merely replied to Charlotte’s subtle line of q’s with “Fate.”  
	Fate had brought her and September to be at that particular rest stop at that particular time.  In part Charlotte understood the girl’s reasoning to keep much of her information to her self.  She was only ten, too, for goodness sake, she wasn’t likely to open up to a stranger.
	But how she and September just willingly opted to “join” up with August, Charlotte was stymied on that one.  (She had noted that August had not used the Device.)
	The whole situation with August was weird, strange, and odd--very odd.  So one more “odd” thing didn’t matter.  She let the girl be and watched August and September assemble their new home.
	The campfire blazed, marshmallows sizzled on the ends of sticks, the embers of the fire fluttered up into the darkness.  Above a jillion stars twinkled in the clear nigh sky.  All was well--all was well.
	Campfires of neighboring campers were seen, slight voices of some singing.  All was serene and tranquil and right with the world.  Wendy occupied August’s lap (clothed.)  Danny and Rusty were shoulder to shoulder, staring into the blazing fire--also still clothed.  Charlotte sat close by in a new comfy camp chair, feet up on a rock being toasted nicely by the blazing fire.
	Wendsy and her brother September sat shoulder to shoulder very close to the fire, it didn’t seem to bother them, their eyes shined as they stared into the flickering flames; as the other campers pulled their marshmallows out before the yummy treat got too burnt or crispy--not so with the brother & sister.  They only pulled the puffy mass of air and goo back when the treat was seared well done.
	At length before the Witching Hour (midnight) August carried Wendy into the newly assembled camp trailer.  (To ease confusion Wendy will be referred to as “Winnie.”  a pet name from August.)  The ODD girl will be sometimes referred to as “Wendsy”, with an “s”.
	Anyways, August and Wendy were within the camp trailer for some time.  Charlotte knew why.  Rusty yawned, Danny farted.  Charlotte didn’t know how to respond to the boy’s crudeness, to her OWN children she had occasionally admonished them with a scolding or a kick to the rear.  
	She shuddered and quickly buried the thoughts of her family, she had considered seeing if August could help her forget about her past, her family, friends, etc.  For now, though, she decided to keep the notion to herself.
	The boys soon stood up, scratched their butts and nuts and then sashayed to the trailer.  There was plenty of room for all, but Charlotte would have preferred a much larger traveling abode.  August had assured her that it was only temporary.
	Wendsy & September sat shoulder to shoulder and as close to the fire as possible without being scorched until August returned from the trailer.  He wore only a pair of cut-off jeans.  Charlotte stifled a yawn, “Everyone tucked in?” she smirked.
	“Pretty much.” he answered with a grin.  
	Charlotte lasted only a few minutes more and it was time for bed herself.  She did he usual routine of prepping for bed--teeth, hair, and a pee, then sought out the nearest bed.
	On her stomach she could peer out thru the mesh window and see the camp, it seemed as though August was in a convo with the two strange newbies.  Maybe he would have better luck with them than she.

Shocking Revelations
	Cum the morning--sorry, Come the morning Charlotte awoke to find Danny and Rusty banging Wendy under the covers.  On the opposite side of the camp travel trailer the Oddkins slept soundly.  August was up making coffee, he was nude.
	Through the night Charlotte had awakened, to find her self NOT alone; which was expected.  August slept soundly on, if he stirred at all she had no idea.  A couple of times she had to get up to go out and “commune” with nature.
	She sighed, a bazillion thoughts roamed her noggin, her past, present, and future.  Turning her back on her past was one thing, she couldn’t see her future, and as for her present?  She didn’t know, a life with the Eighth Month, could she?
	He had out and out kidnapped her, raped and sodomized her, sexually tortured her and brought her into a realm of debauchery she thought not possible.  He had broken down the doors to her own dark past, releasing the horrors she had reeled in back then.  He had single handedly released her inner being, forcing her to deal with those dark issues and as well as embrace them.
	He was a bastard.  An asshole.  A supreme son-of-a-bitch.  She hated him with every fiber of her being.
	Now with that out of the way--he had a nice cock.
	His cock pleased her, more so than the cock of her husband.  Her husband.  Arnold.  Screwing Arnold was like humping a whale--lots of wetness involved and once in a while you’ll hit bone.
	And Arnold, dear sweet Arnold, he was firmly religious which was good, too good.  Charlotte was, too, but Charlotte knew that most of the women in the Church were sluts--with their hubbies.  Most of the women in the Church got laid weekly--if not nightly.
	Not in Charlotte’s world.  Arnold only pegged her “now and then.”  He had it in his noggin that screwing was for generating life, not for pleasure.  (Although she had caught him jerking off in the bathroom a time or two.)
	With August, the first time he sank his bone in her she had not been approving.  It was rape.  Pure and simple.  Humping her asshole, titties, and mouth, no--she cared not for it.  Afterwards, though, when the bonds that constrained her dark sexual past were broken and August Moone once more entered her body--she relented.
	August’s cock was more than a cock, it was cum pleasing fuck tool.  It swelled within her and tantalized her being.  Gently he fucked her, slowly bringing her to the brink of ecstasy and then charging her up to pull her on over.
	When she came she came in quarts.
	When she shuddered she shuddered all over (for several seconds.)
	When she came she blacked out all conscious thought, she only strove to cum, banging her body back into her new lover, striving as much to achieve orgasm as did he.
	And when they were through, she waited in hungry anticipation for the next romp.  And though sexually she did not have any sexual sensations in her asshole--or was not supposed to, when August filled her backdoor she again experienced orgasmic pleasures like none before.
	Then there were the boys.  Danny and Rusty.  And the many other boys who had recently doinked her.  She loved their willies, she loved them peeing on her, she loved holding their bare balls, rubbing/caressing their bare asses, kissing them and watching them fuck.
	Charlotte suddenly realized that she was wet.  Very wet.  Diligently her fingers worked away at her cunny.  August turned bringing her a fresh cup of coffee.  But she wasn’t interested in the brew.  Her eyes fell onto his semi-engorged organ waggling before her.  August placed the coffee cup down and Charlotte reached out for his schlong.
	Top side in the above bunk Danny leaned his red haired head over, there was still “movement” going on topside, Rusty was still pegging Wendy.
	Charlotte fondled the schlong before her, it “grew” in size, pulsed, and became hotter.  Her hand gently caressed the magnificent organ, her lips pursed she held her smile of impending satisfaction to herself.  Up and down the shaft she went, her dazzling blue eyes hungrily drinking in the monster dong.  Soon her hands cupped his fuzzy nads, she tenderly squeezed them and brought her lips to his glistening bulb.
	Over the edge of the topside bunk two heads peered over, all movement there had ceased.  Charlotte’s lips engulfed August’s knob and began a wonderful bout of intimate oral pleasing, licking the piss slit was just one of the many things her tongue could do.
	Husband Arnold would never submit to such an outrageous display of debauchery.  Thank God August did!

	At the critical moment she pulled away, smiling, spurts of man juice had coated the inside of her mouth; she lay back diddling her quim, nipples very erect and wanting very badly to be a “dirty” girl.  Her legs opened with feet planted on the bunk above her.  Danny and Rusty peering over more with Wendy, too.
	August crawled up between the willing Charlotte, glided his cock up and down her quaking quim and began a slow entry.  It drove the former tv reporter crazy--she wanted him IN and none of that foreplay bullshit about it.  ‘Put it IN me, NOW!’
	August knew.  He held back, tantalizing was one of his specialties.
	He himself, though, was difficulties holding off.  He rubbed his aching bone against the swelled lips of the cunny, poked the taint and asshole, then humped lightly on the outside of the love tunnel before sliding his python into her.
	Behind them Wendsy (Wednesday) and September looked on.
	August slid his schlong into the woman, closing his eyes and reeling in the super loveliness of the woman’s cunt.  The experience at the underground Indian cult society had been an eye opener--was she ready for more, could she handle it?
	While he smiled and recalled seeing the former pillar of the community being fucked by three very young boys, finger fucking a woman, being screwed by Indian cocks, an image flickered into his mind that was new.
	The image wasn’t clear, he didn’t know what it was.  He waited, slipped his bone all the way in, then slowly pulled all the way out, glided his severely aching cock head against the swollen sensations of his lover, then re-entered.  She now clamped her hands to his ass, he wasn’t going to “pull-out” now!
	The image in his head cleared.  At first there was a flicker and then--
	The HUD appeared.
	The HeadsUpDisplay was back.
	At first he panicked.
	This frightened him in many ways--what was happening, why, and where?  (or was this another part of his psychosis?)  He had yet to determine if his Time Tripping had happened.  He had memories, very vivid ones.  He had pains, tastes, smells, and sensations, all stemming from his extraordinary trip through time.
	But he was mystified, he had thought that by his screwing around, obliterating family values, chasing down outlaws who probably got away in the past, the future would have been “altered” in some way.
	He had planned on visiting a library and looking up those places he had been, researching thru community newspapers to see if anything of pertinent interest had cropped up during his time in those places.
	But he hadn’t as of yet gotten around to it.
	But he WAS kinda close to Montana, Deadwood was up that way, or Prairieville as it would be called now.  
	And there was still that business about those Indians, the purple painted bastards, the rogue Indians.  Were they a part of those fuckers who had buggered him in the canyons?
	The times that August had sought to ask Ten Bears there had always been an interruption of some sort and the plaguing question was dismissed.
	Now it was back.
	August concentrated on the HUD, why was it back?  He couldn’t rightly recall where he had put the Device.  Was he having a psychosis fit, dreaming, what?
	The HUD, though, flickered and seemed to fade, replaced by a new vision.  This nuance seemed to have it that it was like he had eyes in the back of his head!  He could see Wendsy and September behind him.  They were awake now, covered up--but that didn’t matter.  He seemed to be two peoples, he himself screwing Charlotte and he himself right in front of the two newbies!
	This was new.
	It was odd and curious.
	His second self became “aware” that the two newest members of the family were more than just “awake.”  August could see slight movement occurring under the covers.  August found that by concentrating really hard, the concealment of the covers was of no consequence, he saw THRU the covers and saw September with his hand draped over his sister’s body.  They were unclothed save for their underwear.  September’s undies were boxers and his schlong was nestled up between his sister’s bare legs.  Wendsy’s panties were down at her knees.
	September fingered the girl, her hand was on his and she seemed to be “helping.”  her face, though, was stoic.  No emotions whatsoever.  It was spooky.  August had to wonder if she was aware of his watching them, knowing what they were doing, or what.
	Soon the girl moved her ass back a bit and parted a cheek.  Her face remained calm and uncaring, only changing slightly when September behind her penetrate her asshole.  Her mouth opened and eyes fluttered as he went in.  Slowly he humped her, hand on her lily white hip, the girl fingering her hairless poon as well as tweaking HARD a nipple.  
	August lost the image quickly thereafter, focusing back to the task at hand, humping the beejeesus out of Charlotte.

					*****

	The new nuance though was not essentially disturbing, but it was curious.  What potentiality did THIS now incur?   He had gotten used to the HUD, and had gotten used to the him BEING the Device, but now; now what was going on was more stranger than anything he could imagine.  It only prompted him to reconsider his quest.
	There, too, was the notion of whether or not this was all a part of some elaborate dream; an induced dream by government types?  Could he be laying out on some governmental exam table (or alien for that matter) and the images of his desire(s) whisking him along?
	Reality; what a concept!

	Rusty and Danny were quickly bonding (like brothers (or best friends)) and as soon as they were done with Wendy (Winnie) and Charlotte AND breakfast, they asked if it was alright to go exploring.  August shrugged and thought, ‘Why not?’ they were boys and in an environment well suited for exploring.
	Wendsy and September sat by the fire, they had eaten breakfast, didn’t speak much (if at all) and chose to be a little distant.  In part August understood, he didn’t know their story--not yet, but deduced that they had experienced a trauma of some sort and it needed to settle before they would open up.
	When the sun had begun to clear the skies and warm the area, August took Charlotte’s hand and struck off for a walk.  Wendsy and September followed along.
	There were other campers in the KOA, lots of kids, some dogs, folks on horseback.  It was all very serene, tranquil, picturesque and very Americana.  And though August casually checked over the “possibilities” he, too, took note of the various camping equipment they had come in--most notably the LARGE RVs, big assed motor homes, bus RVs,  and large 5th wheelers.
	Charlotte took note of them, too.
	Some folks were chatty, offered helloes and howdys, hand shakes and smiles.  Some of the “possible” ran up along with their parents to be nosey, dogs, too.
	Upon reaching the front area where the check-in was, the laundry facilities, a bathroom and communal shower and a small general store, August noted that Wendsy & September were no longer with them.  He looked to Charlotte, “Maybe they went back to camp?” she offered.
	August doubted it.  He didn’t think that they would up and run off, they had a good thing with August & Co., they were just a strange pair and probably just needed some time to themselves.  His mind quickly returned to the morning’s activities, watching them carrying on with one another under the covers.
	He still tried to figure how he had seen them do that.
	In the general store he got a bottle of soda for himself and Charlotte, Charlotte looked over the daily paper, August looked over a lovely-lovely teen girl that sent his cock reeling.  She was 13-ish, incredibly cute. He could see the top hem of her panties peeking out at him from her low slung well worn jeans.  She was board-like, having hardly any hips at all, being very straight.
	She was with another girl of equal or a year older, SHE had hips, and tits, more meat to her bones.  August considered the two as sisters or friends or cousins.
	The first one meandered her way back to the rear of the store and entered the restrooms there.  Suddenly, August could see her, he felt himself there, in the cul-de-sac back room with MEN on one side and WOMEN on the other.  A bare bulb illuminated the small area, a drinking fountain and some boxes from UPS were there.  He stared at the WOMEN’s pale yellow bathroom door, concentrated hard and then--he was in.
	This was crazy.
	He tried harder to concentrate on “feeling”, but there was no sensation of being able to “touch” anything and feel it, nothing seemed tangible.  He smelled nothing and sensed less.  But he could SEE, and that was the important thing.
	And he could hear, it was muffled but he could hear--and his first sound was of a fart.  It was short and distinctive, but a fart nonetheless.  There were only three stalls, a large counter having three porcelain white basins, a vinyl flooring with dull white clapboard slats for walls and ceiling.
	Two stalls were unoccupied.
	In the third sat the girl.
	Thru the crack of the wooden stall door he saw her with her jeans and undies just to her knees, hunched over, doing both a Number One and a Number Two.  She farted, peed, and did a healthy Number Two.  The girl cast her eyes to some of the crude writings on the wall, struggled it seemed with some of the concepts (of intercourse), then completed her visit by cleaning herself.
	August tried his damndest when she stood to halt her so as he could gaze upon her.  But nope, didn’t work.  Apparently the new nuance only allowed him to be a voyeur.  Well, for now, that was cool.  He felt reasonably certain that possibly in the near future that would change.
	The girl pulled up her clothes, flushed and exited the stall, going seemingly right through August!  She washed her hands, fiddled with her hair and left.
	August remained a moment more, not knowing how to return to himself.  But he suddenly did, though, re-concentrating on the lone girl who didn’t go to the bathroom then the first girl who came back into the scene.
	He felt a little flushed, the feeling of just stepping off of an exhilarating roller coaster ride into 100 degree heat.  It passed quickly enough, but still.  (And temporarily there for a moment he lost interest in the two girls…)
	That passed, too.  The girls came by him, chatting and being typical girls, shoulder to shoulder.  August deduced by that that they were friends.  Charlotte squeezed his hand, “Don’t you ever stop!?” she chastised him.  August merely smiled and watched the girls leave the store and scamper on out into the wild.
Strange Sweet Desires
	Walking back to their encampment it struck August that he needed to pee.  “Couldn’t you have done that back at the store?” bitched Charlotte chiding him.  He shrugged, squeezed her hand and left the trail they were on.  Charlotte stood just aways off, looking thru the forest nonchalantly minding her own business.  August whizzed on a juniper bush.
	Suddenly his Narly Senses kicked in, closing his eyes he sent out his Second Self (he had no other way in which to call it, so Second Self seemed appropriate.)  His Second Self slowly moved thru the thick brush, pausing now and then, turning this way and that before preceding.
	Over a large boulder, over a small creek, under a log crossing a nature path to finally come to a rather bizarre scene:  Wendsy and brother September were present, along with a young lad of about seven or so.  The young lad of about seven or so was nude.  So was Wendsy.
	Wendsy had been sitting on a stump, legs open, exposing her self to the young seven year old.  September was beside them, smiling, he was still clothed.  August 2 watched as Wendsy leaned forward and began fondling the younger boy’s penis.  She clutched as his bare bald testicles, caressed his ass, and just before “going down on him” she shot an inquisitive look into the woods in the very vicinity of August 2.
	August 2 remained still, could she see him?  Was she aware of his presence?  He wasn’t in true form, but then again--he had no idea what sort of “form” he WAS in.
	Her glance/stare only lasted momentarily and then she came to her knees before the nude boy, tugging on his schlong and then sucking it.
	August 2 was amused.  He was about to get much more than amused.