August Moone
Book 3
Sidetrips
Chapter 1
Fantasmigorical

	Muck.  Muck and mud.  An unpleasant odor.  The knowing of small worm-like critters crawling about, sensations and feelings all leading her to almost shriek out in fear.  Normally she feared nothing, it was her persona, her demeanor.  But she was ten years old, too; no matter how demented she was there were limits to her ability to just simply cope.
	Pushing herself up from the muck and mire she lay in, Wendsy looked about for the boys.  She saw them not, just dark woods, lifeless trees.  It was drab, gray all about.  Some sort of worm-parasites thrived in the muck, Wendsy didn’t care for it and sloughed her way through to the trees, she had been in the middle of some sort of muck meadow.
	She managed to wipe most of the muck from her nude body, but a hot bath would be preferred.  She saw a great owl sitting perched in a nearby deadwood tree.  It fluttered its wings and hooted at her.
	“I don’t think you want to go in there.” spoke the owl in a gruff voice.
	“Why not?” asked Wendsy.
	“Suit yourself.” fluttered the great bird and refused to answer her question.  Wendsy peered into the gloom of the woods, thick trees they were, no leaves or anything, just dark blood red bark.  The trees were numerous and were gnarled things, none seemed taller than 20 feet or so.
	A path led down the middle.
	“Have you seen two boys?” Wendsy asked, but the owl was gone.
	She sighed and stared into the woods.  There was nothing to tell her that she should, or shouldn’t.  She stepped closer and observed a tree seemingly take on a “face.”
	“Come on in.” a mouth said.
	Wendsy held her pose.  “Why should I?”	
	“Good things on the other side, it is just a short walk.”
	“You’re lying.”  
	The tree reared back and made an awful face, its branches reached out to try and grab her, Wendsy merely stepped back some out of reach.
	Wendsy carefully walked along the edge of the dark forest, well out of reach of the most pesky “living trees.”  She paid no heed to their calls, “Come on in, little girl.  We won’t hurt you.  Join us!  Join us!”
	“You WILL join us, eventually!” shouted one of the trees as Wendsy returned to the muck-bog and decided to cross it instead.  She wasn’t overly thrilled with it, but she wasn’t fooling around with the Dark Forest.
	Another forest there was, a little bit of a walk, but it was at least green and appeared “normal.”  The bog was quite extensive but before the day’s end she managed to step out onto clover.  There was no water nearby to wash the muck from her, it was already beginning to dry on her shoulders.  If there were other smells or odors to be detected she could not, the stench of the much pasted to her body forbade that.
	Mildly she worried (or was concerned) about her brother and Hunter.  She didn’t allow her thoughts to dwell on them but sought to find shelter for the night, rest up, peel the dried muck off of her, and seek food & water.
	Before making the normal forest she found a great boulder.  Night was coming on fast, she took note that the day sky was a light colored yellowish scheme.  No “sun” per se, but there was something of a warmth felt.  As night came the sky went to a bluish color scheme, void of stars and moon.
	At the boulder she found there was a cave, a natural cave of the boulder.  In it was a layer of twigs and leaves and all the makings of a nice comfy bed.  The much still prevented Wendsy from detecting if whether the “bed” was in use.  She saw bits of bone here and there, and horse turds close by.  She paused a moment, but succumbed to the bed as she was very tired, slightly confused, and really-really-really lost.
	Her stomach gurgled and growled, her feet ached, her head began to ache.  She sought sleep but it would not come easy.  There were some thoughts, dark and evil, light and mischievous.  She did not care of self analylitical bullcrap.  Good vs. Evil and so forth.  She knew who she was and that was that.  She was proud of it.
	She closed her eyes and pushed down into her dark abyss those pesky challenges to her being.  The sound of a horse’s whiny brought her to sitting up.  She tensed up a moment, was the horse alone or had a rider?
	“You there!” said a strong deep voice.
	Wendsy braced against the wall of the cave, it was not a large one, just where a portion of the jutting boulder had cracked and fell away.  Other smaller surrounding boulders of odd shapes helped form a nice protective cave.
	“Who are you?” demanded the unseen rider.
	Wendsy struggled to speak, but her mouth and throat were dry.
	“You are IN my home!” spoke more gruffly the voice.  The sounds of clomping came closer.  Wendsy squeezed her eyes tight but was unable to see clearly in the pure darkness.
	“Hmmmm, now WHAT the hell are you?” smirked the voice.  Despite the much clinging to her body Wendsy detected the strong odor of horseflesh.
	“Can ye talk or are ye just stupid!?” barked the voice.
	Wendsy tried, coughing and sputtering.
	“Ew, you’ve been in the bog I see!” the voice chuckled.
	“It is where I came to be.” announced Wendsy at last.
	“Whoa-ho!  It speaks!” 
	Wendsy braced against the wall as the voice leaned in closer, “Ye canna see me, eh?”
	“Not clearly, no.”
	“Tis the darkness that lays like a blanket on this place.” he sneered.
	“Yer a stranger to this land, aren’t you?” quizzed the unseen man.
	“Yes, yes I am,  I-I just arrived.” Wendsy suddenly found herself in a situation of which she was uncomfortable with, being afraid.  Normally she was not, normally she was unassuming, aggressive, uncaring.  She found herself tensing up and felt her heart beating.  She didn’t like it.
	“Lots of strangers coming into the realm,” remarked the voice, “Seth’s doing I suppose.”
	“Seth?”
	“Hmmm, aye, the Grand Wizard of this place, he has a choke hold on our king, he’s probably already corrupted, if not dead and a doppleganger is taking his place.”
	Wendsy raised an eye, this was getting curiouser and curiouser!
	The voice began rattling on about Seth, King Arku, this kingdom, the villian-grosse, the minotaur wars, and the mysterious TallFolk who came and went by magic.
	Wendsy had no idea what he was talking about.  Sleep finally returned to her and she gave in.  

	When she awoke nextly she was stiff and sore and still very tired.  It seemed to be dawn, her eyes hurt, every fiber of her young being hurt.  In the cave with her was--a horse!  It was small, but a horse nonetheless.  It smelled almost as bad as she.
	Upon her stirring the horse stirred, too.  It moved and came up to be more than a horsey.  It was a centaur!  
	Wendsy stared.
	“What’s the matta, your momma never taught you not to stare!?”
	“Sorry, I-I didn’t know--”
	“I am Azmodeus!” clomped the centaur.  He proudly pounded his chest with his human fist.  He was human from the waist up, he had a dark beard that was short, long silky black hair tied in a “pony” tail.  No clothing, no weapons.  He DID have horns at the temples and Wendsy couldn’t recall if the centaurs in her mythology bore the same or not.
	The “horse” part of him was dark brown, a flinging unkempt tail swished away pesky flies.  Azmodeus turned about on his four feet, displaying himself.  “Well, whattya think?” he boasted.
	Wendsy nodded in an approving matter.
	“Phew, you are in need of a bath!” scoffed the centaur.
	“Is there water around?”
	“Aye, a mile or so down this path.”
	Wendsy sighed and stood up, grabbing for the rock to help, her legs and feet were really aching.
	“I suppose you should want I to TAKE you there?”
	“If you would please.” spoke Wendsy.
	“Humph!” scoffed the half man half horse again, “I suppose.”
	Wendsy clamored up onto the bad mannered beast.
	“I expect some sort of payment for this ride.” he said dryly and lightly galloped off.

                                                     *****

	He yawned.  He ached.  He tried stretching.  He itched.  He was hungry, thirsty, and very dizzy.  When trying to cough he nearly choked.  His vision was blurred and there was a whine in his ears.  
	At length it was best to just relax a moment.  His thoughts were muddled so he didn’t mess with that.  The “here & now” was more important anyhow.  He lay still, discovering at length that he was laying prone.  He couldn’t determine HOW he had come to be prone on the ground, but he was.
	The annoying whine in his ears lessoned, his vision cleared, his thoughts remained a little muddled.  Sitting up he discovered that he had been covered in leaves.  Leaves and twigs and small branches.
	After a moment of brushing himself clean of forest type debris, “Wendsy?  September?”  Dirt was impacted into his ears, his nose, and up the crack of his bare ass.  “Guys?” he called out again.
	He was in a forest, a nice forest he assumed.  (and hoped.)  It appeared to be the Fall of the year, a forest of leafy trees.  He didn’t know their names, just trees with leaves.  Standing on his nimble legs he looked all about for his companions.
	“Son-of-a-bitch!” he quipped to himself.  He crawled over a log and looked all about carefully.  The landscape was flat, save for a gully nearby, a rolling hill he could see not far away.  There was a thick layer of lush green moss beneath his feet, a clear blue sky above.
	He heard nor saw any animals.
	‘NOW where am I?’

	Reluctantly he crossed the gully and struck out in no particular direction.  ‘This bites.’ he proclaimed.  He walked, he crawled over and under logs, around large boulders, across a creek (of which he fell in) but that was okay, the water was good and helped soothe him.
	Drying in what sun he could find he contemplated, contemplated going back where he had been, maybe he shouldn’t have moved.  But of course now that was a moot point, he was kinda lost.  He whizzed on a bush and sighed deeply.  “If it aint one fucking thing it’s something else!” he bitched.

	He felt that the time of day was getting on, but there still seemed to be plenty of daylight.  No roads, though.  Not even.  No trails or signs or anything.  He backtracked to the creek and decided to follow it, it would eventually led somewhere--so was the thought.  
	He found part of a wagon, a wagon wheel and a decaying box structure.  Nothing of any use, it was long since picked over.  Still no road, though.  He thought he heard what sounded like--singing?  It was different if it was, very melodic and odd.  It was someone singing directly in tune with some sort of high pitched instrument.
	Trying to determine WHERE the sound was coming was most difficult.  It seemed to be everywhere.  And as soon as he thought he had it narrowed down, it stopped.  Hunter stopped.  He rubbed his ass, his bare balls, and waited.  Naturally, it didn’t return.
	“Well fuck!” he bitched.
	He stood a moment, rolled his shoulders and waited.
	And waited.
	And waited some more.
	Nothing.  A crisp wind sent him moving, though.

	When coming to where the hill and creek leveled off there was a grand expanse trees and flatland.  Climbing atop a rather large boulder he thought he saw over a hill what looked to be one of those castle things, a tower of some sort.
	He thought a moment, then shrugged, “Oh well.” and began making his way towards it.  He hadn’t gone several steps when he heard crying.  He stopped and listened.  It was close by.  
	“Hello?” he said.
	It took a moment to zero in on the crying, carefully and very slowly he moved towards it, determining at length that just over a great log wedged between a pair of trees and a large boulder.  He paused.  It could be a trap.  It could be someone in distress.
	‘Well, it aint like I haven’t been in trouble before!” he quipped.  But still he tredged carefully and with extreme caution.
	The crying increased in volume.  It only heightened Hunter’s fear, panic, and curiosity.  Being naked made him most vulnerable.  No weapons, nothing.  He sucked in his breath and held it, then peered over the log.
	A girl.  A little girl.  Actually a girl about his age, but dressed.  She wore a light blue outfit, old style, olde stlye, very old, almost Victorian age era, the style young children wore during those times.  White stockings, dress shoes.  Her dress was a bit of a mess, though, torn and muddy, grass stains.  She was a blond, long straight blond hair that hung down to the middle of her backside, she had blue ribbons and was very-very white.
	She was also very-very pretty.
	And she was crying.
	“Hell-hello?” Hunter called out quietly.  He didn’t see anyone else about.  The girl raised her head, tears stained her very pretty face.  “H-hello?  Hello!?  W-who are you?”
	Hunter noted that he mostly tried to keep his nudity hidden, but surely she could see his face.  
	“I-I’m right here, here.” he said.  The girl gulped and looked to him, eyes blinking, face looking puzzled.
	“Who are you?”
	“Oh, uh, uhm, uhm, H-Hunter, my name--”
	“You are not the Hunstman, are you?”
	“Huntsman?” Hunter queried, “Oh, uh, no, not the hunstaman, Hunter, it’s my name.”
	“Oh.”  The girl had stopped crying, but still sniveled.  She still looked puzzling about, too.
	“Uhm, sooooo, what’s YOUR name?”
	“Alice.” she said in a lighthearted voice, “Alice Goodheart.”
	No shit?

	Alice tried to stand, but didn’t seem to be able to.  Hunter quickly came to her, still aware of his nudity.  But the girl didn’t freak out on him when he came to her.  She accepted his help in helping her to stand.  Hunter determined that she had managed to sprain her ankle.  He determined, too, that she was blind.
	That explained a lot.
	She was pretty, no denying that.  One of those “prim & proper” kind of girls.  Her eyes were pretty, she explained that she had recently had an accident and lost her sight.  Hunter stood before her, looked about, then waggled his weenie before her.  The pretty girl made no objections of any sort.  Hunter smiled.
	“Do you live around here?” he asked.
	“I’ve been lost,” she answered, “I went for a walk, I was following this silly ole rabbit--”
	“Rabbit?” Hunter said.  Rabbit?  Alice?  Rabbit plus Alice plus forest plus “OH SHIT!”
	“Uh, a little WHITE rabbit?
	“Yes, yes it was!” said gleefully the little girl.  
	“Uhm, how did you know it was WHITE!?”
	“I-I don’t know!” sparked the young girl.  And she didn’t.  She seemed even more perplexed than ever now.  She spoke very well and was probably very well school and mannered.
	“Uhm, this rabbit, did he say anything?” inquired Hunter.
	“Oh yes, he kept saying “I’m late!  I’m late!” and ran off leaving me most puzzled.  I had to chase after him you see--”
	“Yeah, yeah, I know the story!” sparked Hunter.  He stared at her, how could she be BLIND if she could SEE?  Again he masturbated before her, waved his hand in front of her face, then pretended to throw a fist to her.
	Alice reacted not.
	“Hmmmm, curiouser and curiouser!” piped Hunter.
	He took her hand and helped her hobble about.
	Which wasn’t very good.  The girl though not clumsy on her feet was so with only one good one.  With her grappling about and holding onto Hunter, she exclaimed, “You have no clothes on!”
	“Nope!” Hunter said proudly.  (still looking about to see if there was anyone about.) 
	“Why on Earth not?”
	“Well,” drawled Hunter, “I don’t want to.”
	“It’s most undignified, isn’t it.  For shame on you!” she said crossing her arms.  “I dear say I shall not have anything to do with you.” she announced triumphantly.
	“Suit yourself.” Hunter said.  He felt a streak of meanness overcome him, swelling within.  He knew she was probably a virgin, easily he could overwhelm her, knock her down, get her clothes off and fuck her brains out.
	He nixed that and moved away from her.
	“Wait!” she suddenly shrieked.
	“Yeah?” Hunter said deciding she was not worth it.
	“I-I’m sorry.” she said.
	Hunter smirked (to himself).  ‘That’s better, bitch.’
	“I don’t know where I am.”
	‘Me neither!’
	Hunter reached out and re-took her hand, then helped her hobble along to a more flat area.  She winced and made hurtie-owie sounds, she wasn’t very good at hobbling.
	They didn’t go far when Alice needed to take a breather.  She was a whiny girl who most often got her way and other people did things for her.  Hunter wondered if she even wiped her self herself or had someone do THAT for her, too!
	And speaking of which, Hunter turned away, although he didn’t know why--she was supposedly blind, and began to pee.
	“W-what are you doing?” inquired the timid uppity girl.
	“Taking a piss, whattya think?”
	The girl did not know the word “piss”, but she distinctly heard the sounds of “pee’ spilling onto the ground.
	“Oh my!” she gasped.
	“Hey, when you gotta go you gotta, you know!?”
	“B-but we’re out in the open, there’s no privy about!”
	“Privy?  Oh, uh, nope, sure aint!”
	“I must say!” 
	‘Say what?’
	“We’re out in the open, right, there’s no one else around at all, so when nature calls, you go!”  plain & simple.
	Alice seemed reserved, pursed her lips and leaned against a small sapling birch, pretty blue eyes wandering around.  Hunter finished peeing, turned and faced her, masturbating/shaking his willie.  No reaction was noticed from the young girl.
	“W-what are you doing now?”
	“Nothing really.” Hunter said, that mean streak returned, so did images of the bastard Gunther Tallywick.  The bastard.  His mind whirled as he thought of the son-of-a-bitch.  What an asshole!  
	“H-have you ever seen a guy, er, I mean a boy--naked?”
	“My goodness!  I should say not!” she replied in a gruff.
	“Why not?”
	“Why, it’s simply not proper, that’s why?”
	“Sooooo, you don’t know what a boy, like me, looks like, naked?”
	Alice blushed and turned red, she was also becoming furious, or upset.
	“Hey, I know what a GIRL looks like!” he piped quickly.
	Alice looked shocked and amazed.  “Y-you do?” she squeaked.
	“Yep!” he said proudly.
	Alice didn’t know what to think about that.
	“AND,” proudly stated the boy, “I know a LOT about a girl’s body.”
	Alice stared at him, eyes rolling in awe.  She gulped and was at a loss as to what to say.
	“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with our bodies.” Hunter stated emphatically.
	“It’s not proper, that’s all, it is simply undignified!” shot back Alice.
	‘this is getting old.’
	They continued hobbling along, no particular direction.  Hunter was hungry, Alice was whiny.  He seriously wanted to see her naked, to lay her across his lap or a stump and spank her, then part her cheeks and go for it!
	They came to a creek.
	The wheels in Hunter’s mind turned.  Churned.  Burned.
	He smiled and as they crossed the creek that had deep pools, Hunter “slipped” carefully.  Careful not to really hurt himself or Alice.  His antics caused young Alice to lose her footing and down she went, plopping into the very cold stream.
	She shrieked and shouted and sat waist deep in the water, more upset about the fall than anything else.  Hunter pulled her up and got her to the opposite shore.  
	“Ow!” he complained, pretending that he, now, too, had hurt his ankle.  Of which was not too far fetched, he had bruised it against a watery boulder.
	“Are you hurt?” Alice asked out of concern.
	“Yeah.”
	“GOOD!” she smartly decreed, “You deserve it!”
	Hunter was getting his ire up.
	“Just look at me!” she bitched, her dress was soaked, her underclothes and everything.
	“So yer wet, big deal, take ‘em off and let ‘em dry in the sun and you’ll be fine!”
	“I will not!” stamped the young girl already beginning to shiver from the experience.
	“Suit yourself,” Hunter proclaimed, “freeze to death, then!”
	“You wouldn’t!” 
	“Hey, YOU’RE the one being difficult!  I told you what to do, if you don’t want to do it, well, that’s your problem.”  Hunter was about to have enough of her.  
	The young girl stood with arms folded, crossed.  Then, hands down at her side.  She was cold and she knew she needed to be out of her clothes.
	“Look, yer gonna catch a cold, real bad.  What do you have on under your dress?”
	Alice looked puzzled, “My-my under things.” she said quietly.  She had begun to shiver so.
	“Well, take off your dress at least, lay it out and then lay out yourself, the sun will dry you and you wont catch a cold (and die)!”
	Alice gulped, licked her lips and flared her petite nostrils.  She didn’t know about removing her dress with Hunter there, or out in the bare open.
	“T-turn around!” stated Alice.
	Was she kidding?  She was blind, supposedly, how could she tell if he complied?  Hunter, though, DID turn about.  He toyed with his half erect cock, then it dawned on him, ‘Hey!’ and he silently turned about.
	Alice was in the process of undoing her dress and pulling it off.  She wasn’t too successful as she began to stumble and fall.  Hunter grabbed her quick and held her.  She complained (again) about her foot.  She began to cry and Hunter was in a state.
	His COCK, too, was right there at her face.  Easily he could have grabbed a hunk of her hair and fucked her face.  But he didn’t.  maybe later.  Dutifully he figured out how to undo her dress and pull it off.  Underneath was a layer of white underclothing.  She also didn’t wear “panties” per se, but some sort of girlie breeches.
	She stood trembling in her underwear, a long teeshirt like thing, the breeches.  Hunter took the dress and laid it out over a nearby log.  The sun was warm but he doubted that it was warm enough to really dry the garment.
	“W-what are you doing now?” Alice quipped.  
	Hunter told her.  She clung to herself.
	“Listen, you really gotta get out of those clothes or your gonna get real sick.”
	Alice made a face of displeasure.  
	“Promise you won’t look?”
	“Uh, yeah, sure.” yeah, sure, right.
	Hunter stood back, Alice timidly looked about, “Are you turned around?” she asked.  
	‘Jesus Christ!’ then, “YES!” he said very annoyed.  ‘Criminey!’
	Her top underthing came off, then she slowly lowered her white cottony frilly bottom part.  Hunter had a raging rail on, licked his lips and watched as she stood.  ‘Oh yeah!’ a nice little virgin hairless ten year old poon!
	“You ready?” he asked.
	“I-I guess so.” chirped the timid girl.  She crossed her arms and stood hobbling on her bad foot.  Hunter scooped up her underclothes, it was a time before bras and panties; though Alice was too young and flat chested to support a bra.
	He laid the wet garments by the wet dress.
	“Okay, now yer naked!” scoffed lightly Hunter.  “How do you feel?”
	Alice didn’t answer.  
	“Hey, you’ve been naked before, haven’t you?”
	“I-I guess so.” she replied shyly.
	“Yeah, like when you take a bath, right?”
	Alice nodded that this was so.  
	“You change ALL your clothes, right, yer naked for a little while, right?”  again, a feeble head nod from the now naked Alice.
	Hunter stopped yapping and stroked his bone, his eyes right on Alice’s pussy.  Taking a chance, he stepped up to her.  Alice “felt” his presence and backed up some.
	“Take it easy, sheesh, there’s no one about, we’re alone, really-really alone.  What we do together is just to ourselves.”
	Alice mulled it over.
	“Here,” he said and took her hand.  Alice breathed hard and Hunter’s cock WAS hard.  Alice’s fingers brushed against his pud.  Alice freaked some, gushed.
	“Do you know what that is?”
	No, but she had a fairly good idea just the same.
	Her young mouth hung open, her demeanor was changing, slightly.  She was still prim & proper, and a good girl.  But she was curious, too.  Semi on her own she wrapped her fingers about the head of Hunter’s cock.  Hunter’s cock tensed up in anticipation.  If it was possible for his cock to get any harder, it did.  
	Slowly he got her to go up and down the length of his dong, which at ten ½ years old it wasn’t much.  But still.  He got her to fondle his BALLS, too.  That was nice.  His own breathing increased and he laid his hands onto Alice’s bare bum.
	Alice wasn’t too cool with that and slapped him.
	“HEY!”
	With that Hunter stepped away in a huff.
	Alice crossed her arms and blurted “I’m very cross with you!” get real.

	Hunter slumped on a log.  “Fucking bitch!” he said.  He wondered casually if this was how Gunther had gotten started, why he was so vicious in his doings against girls, boys.  Alice stood by her birch tree sobbing.  Hunter was across from her some 100 yards.  He knew that the circumstances was unreal, neither knew where they were, there was no one about so overtaking her could be done, but then what?
	He needed a friend, wherever the hell he was now he really really needed all the friends he could get.  Raping a friend was a good way to lose.  He sighed, cracked his neck, and toyed with his schlong.
	“Got woman troubles, do you bub?”
	Hunter looked around and sitting on the edge of his log was a rabbit.
	A white rabbit.
	“Holy shit!” he blurted.
	The rabbit twitched its nose and ran a paw down its whiskers.  It wore a black vest and black spats (Hunter didn’t know what they were.)  On his head was a small black top hat.  He had a pocket watch connected to a gold chain.  He kept looking at it and then looking around.
	“I-I think she was looking for you.” said Hunter.
	“Hmmm, she probably was.  Always is, you know.”
	“She always chases me, following me.”
	“You’re the White Rabbit, aren’t you?”
	“White, black, even red a time or two.”
	Hunter stared him.  The rabbit withdrew from his hat a stick, it looked ordinary to him, he tapped himself on the head with it and instantly changed colors!  
	“See?”
	“Wow!” sparked Hunter.  “Uh, what else can you do?”
	And with that young Hunter was amazed with a few parlor tricks.
	“Wow, those are great!” chirped Hunter.  “Anything else?” eagerly asked the boy.
	“Oh my yes-yes-yes!” spoke the rabbit, “But now I must be off!  I’m late, you know, I’m late!  I’m late!  I’m late!” 
	Hunter was disappointed, things were going so well.
	“Hmmm, do not despair, my young hairless one,” said the rabbit before he bounded off.  Perhaps I can help you with your problem?”
	‘And which problem would that be, being really-really lost, or---’
	The rabbit removed from his top hat a small purple bag.  
	“What’s this?” Hunter asked as he took the offering, it felt like sand was within.
	“Pixie dust.” stated the rabbit.
	Hunter raised an eyebrow.  “Pixie dust?”
	“Aye, the finest kind, very magical!”
	“Magical like?”
	“Just sprinkle it on whoever you want (and the rabbit winked) and you can make them do your bidding!” then, “Wonderful stuff!”
	Hunter wanted to ask more questions, but the rabbit leapt from the log and bounded off, disappearing into the bushes and was gone.
	Hunter wrinkled his nose.  ‘Pixie dust.’  he wondered.  Could it be true?  Pixie dust, Wonderful Stuff!  Can make them do your bidding!  Wonderful stuff!  Just sprinkle on whoever--nudge-nudge, wink-wink!  Wonderful stuff!
	Hunter hefted the bag, stretched, and watched Alice, she was slumped on the log by her clothes, pissed off and sniveling.  Pixie dust.  Wonderful stuff!
	Well, it WAS from a talking rabbit!  Who was he to doubt!?
	He creeped up carefully, cautiously, pausing now and then.  When he was just within arms reach of the sniveling girl, he opened the purple bag.  Inside was sparkling dust.  How much to use?  The rabbit had said a sprinkle. The what?
	He looked back to the log he had been at, no rabbit.
	Was the rabbit handing him a line?  But then why would he do that?
	Pixie dust.  Wonderful stuff!
	Holding his breath he took a big finger full and sprinkled it onto the top of Alice’s head.  Or was he supposed to sprinkle it into her face?
	He paused a moment, Alice seemed calm.
	“Uhm, ahem!” he said.  Nothing from Alice.
	“Uhm, uhm, oh yeah!  S-s-stand up.”
	To his surprise, she did.  Or it COULD be a coincidence.
	He pursed his lips.
	“Uhm, ba-bend--bend over?”
	She was before him, he behind the log.  Alice Goodheart BENT over.
	Ohhhhhhhhhhh.  Pixie dust!  Wonderful stuff!

                                                             ******

	Ever have “just one of those days?”  Looking around he had the distinct feeing that it was going to be just such.  He knew that he was no longer where he had been, it was an entirely a new landscape with flatland all around.  Small hills were off to one side, something of a desert to his left, a creek to his right.  Before him lay a forest.
	For a long while he stood still.  If he should move, he may never be able to return.  Small steps he made forward, backward, and side to side.  He felt nothing out of the ordinary, only a slight wind that was increasing.  If there was some sort of “doorway” where he was then moving away from his arrival point would be a bad idea.
	But how long should he wait?
	Wendsy and Hunter had been right with him, too; where were they?
	After some internal debate September began making for the forest.
	He found a bog of some type between him and the forest, the flatland he had been on was near desert-like with broken bits of rock, sage brush, and not much else.  Then there was the bog.  The bog burbled, gurgled, and smelled horrendous.  There were rocks, stepping stones.  The bog water was icky black, here were some sort of plant life dotting the area and seemed to run as far left as it did right. 
	There was naught to do but cross it.
	September stepped on the first stepping stone.  It was solid.  The burbling-gurgling sounds he heard were all too familiar sounds of farting.  Even to the demented boy, the stench was most unpleasant.
	Another stepping stone, then another, and another and then…
	And then he heard a distress sound.
	“Help me!” he looked about but there was a funky green cloud hanging like a mist above the bog, shrouding it and preventing true sight.  But he trained his ears and stepped cautiously towards the sound.
	At length he saw what looked to be a horse.
	As he stepped closer, the horse was in the mire of the bog, struggling and sinking down.  And it was no ordinary horse, THIS horse had WINGS and a HORN.
	September held up.
	“Well, what are you waiting for?” bitched the horse.  The voice was female.  Typical.  Figures.  September took careful steps closer; then, suddenly, a sticky mass shot out from the bog and grabbed his leg.
	“Nice going, Ace!” bitched the horse.
	September fought madly as the bog covered him.
	“The more you fight the worse it gets.” advised the horse.
	September struggled with all his might, but it was a quick battle with the Bog winning.  He lay on his back, arms and legs pulled out to the max, the bog engulfing him.
	“Well that was good.” said the horse dryly.
	September said nothing.  This was not good.  No, not good at all.

	Slowly the Bog inched up the horse’s legs.  She thrashed about and whinnied, arching her neck as much as she could her horn touched the bog slime and it retracted, but remained ever holding tight at her hocks.  She struggled flapping her wings, but it was a struggle that was moot.
	September managed to turn his head a little, under him he felt all the manners of uncomfortable things he thought at first were sticks and limbs, boulders and etc.  But later on realized that there were more than likely the bones of  other unfortunates.
	He relaxed.  He thought, he relaxed, and then--he felt it.  A stirring.  He waited, somewhat forcing it, but waiting, holding it in to allow it to fester and ferment.  The Bog began tightening its grip and trying to engulf him.
	Until, that is, he let it go.  He farted.
	A nice long butt blast that resounded and reverberated.  It also ripped a “hole” in the bog, and with the hole the horse used her horn to continue making rips.  Before long both horse and human were free.  The bog retreated, gasping.  September wrapped his arms about the horse’s neck and she lifted them off and away from the bog.

	She settled down at a small pond in the middle of the forest.  The bog crud coating their bodies was easily washed away in the brisk pristine waters of the pond.  The unicorn-Pegasus’ name was Galadrieal.  She drank the water, pranced, swished her tail, and eyed September.
	September was glad to be free of the bog, but realized that he was very lost and hopes of returning to his sister were very nill.  He cleaned up and sat on the shore somewhat disgruntled.
	Galadrieal came to him, nuzzling him.  September eyed her horn.
	“It’s magical, huh?”
	“Yes, very.” she replied.
	September made an attempt to “touch” but Galadrieal would have none of that.  She backed up and flung her head about.  “I know not you that well for ye to be touchin’ my horn!” she bitched.
	As September stood, Galadrieal eyed him, er, more specifically she eyed his wang.  September didn’t pay any attention, not at first.  He stretched and looked about.  Forest surrounded the pond, Galadrieal was a flying horse, perhaps she would fly him about until he could find Wendsy or the doorway back to where he had been.
	“We might be able to help one another out.” stated the horse.
	September looked at her, “How?”
	“Hmmmm, well it occurs to me that you need magic, magic to return you from whence you came.  I, on the other hand, need something more.”
	“What?”
	“You don’t see any other uni-pegs about, do you?”
	September looked about and it was just them.
	“No.”
	“Ah, then ye see my dilemma.”
	No, no he didn’t.
	Galadrieal moved to him, nuzzled him, caressed him, then plopped about sloshing in the pond water.  Her tail end came to be and swished about.  September got a “whiff” of horsey twat that was nearly as bad as the Bog!
	He had to find a log to stand on for the proper angle of the dangle.  His penis was no where the correct size to satisfy the unicorn-Pegasus, but he did it do her anyways.  He had never humped a horse, no animals.  It was different.  Very different.
	After a few minutes the horse pulled away and faced him.  Then, THEN, she magically transformed into a woman, she glowed a golden glow, was naked, had bodacious breasts, a hairless cunny that was perfect, super curly long-long flowing hair.
	The glow faded and Galadrieal was human.
	She moved her head about, she was soooooooooo seductive.
	“Do you prefer this,” she said in a sultry voice, “or this.” and she segued into a girl equal to his age, but retaining the same allure, smaller tits, though.
	September didn’t care.  He shrugged and grinned and Galadrieal smiled and placed her arms about his neck.  She kissed him and they came to be “floating” in the air above the pond.  It was here they made love and September was in awe.  He would follow her anywhere!

Phantasical Wonderment 
	Oh glory of glories, his hands came to the flesh and it was wondrous, glorious!  So soft, so wondrous, perfect!  Closely he examined the glory hole, his finger lightly touching it.  It reacted instantly as it should, but the girl made no other movements or reactions.
	Though he deeply desired to shag her, to poke her virgin rim, he held off.  He checked out her virgin cunny, too.  To the flesh of her ass he laid his lips, licking up the crack and then trying to sodomize her with his tongue.
	Soon his cock just couldn’t take the pressure of being held off and he stood up over the log; at first he just guided his cock glidingly up and down, about the cheeks and then seriously trying to penetrate the virgin hole.
	The virgin hole put up quite a resistance, he knew that he needed to grease his cock up to make a better attempt.  He turned Alice about, stood her up and hugged her, hands right to her ass, fondling and digging in.  He hugged her good, kissing her and totally amazed at now her new persona.
	Pixie Dust, wonderful stuff!
	He turned her about, his cock (in dire agony) again pressed to her wondrous ass, his hands about her, fingering her virgin cunny.  With his eyes closed tight he imagined Wendsy; there were the other girls, too, he missed--Stephanie, Dora, Andrea, Carlie, Tammy, the twins Ashley & Mary Kate.  Somehow he doubted he would ever see them again.  He hoped that they would be alright.  
	Wendsy.  September.  What had happened to the them?
	What had happened to HIM?
	After all the fondling of Alice Goodheart he was going to do, he turned her about, kissed her full on the lips, then sitting down on the log, bringing Alice onto lap.  It was awkward and wasn’t going to work.  He laid her out on the ground and then settled before her legs--admiring her cunny.
	A lovely thing.  Perfectly shaped, no hair, no fuzz.  Untouched.
	His fingers probed it, parting the “lips” and getting inside good, working the juices up.  He then applied his tongue and engulfed the cunny, breathing into the pussy and driving his tongue in as far as he could.  
	Alice reacted only as she should, shuddering and twitching as the tide of sexual awe enveloped her.  Hunter lay on her and grinded his puddling against her, humping the slit, sucking on her flat nipples before sliding his cock into her quim and commencing with the fucking.

	As with the doinking of Dora, Carlie, Stephanie, Tammy, Mary Kate & Ashley, and Andrea, fucking a pussy that hadn’t been fucked before was messy.  The amount of blood frightened Hunter, but using her underclothing to wipe away the spillage he relaxed.  He cleaned his own cock and lay on her one more time.  He was prepared to screw her again when he noted her eyes fluttering.
	‘Ut-oh!’ she was waking up.
	Hunter gulped, his mind was all jumbled with the sensation of screwing a girl’s virgin pussy, especially a girl like Alice Goodheart.  He panicked some, then quickly recovered and sat back.  Alice was slowly coming around more and more.  Hunter got off of her and grabbed her clothes, her good dress and the bloodied undies, both he tucked into the hollow of the log and hurriedly searched for his bag of pixie dust, wonderful stuff!
	 Naturally she was panic stricken; blind, naked, and that “fresh fucked feeling.”  She didn’t shriek, which Hunter was glad of, but she did seem distressed and sniveled.  
	Hunter held his breath, licking his lips thoughtfully.  Clutching the pixie dust bag (wonderful stuff!) he approached her, stomping and making noise of his pending arrival.
	Alice moved and was greatly frightened. “Wh-who are you?” she said in a very trembling voice.
	“Chill out, it’s me, me Hunter.”
	“Hunt-Hunter, wh-what happened, to me!?”
	“I-I don’t know, where’s your clothes?”
	To wit the girl got on her hands and knees and searched reverently for them.  She DID come close to the log, but didn’t search inside it.  She sat on her heels in a humph crying.
	“Hey,” Hunter said coming before her, “it’s no big deal, honest.  You’re pretty with or without your clothes, on.”
	This didn’t help.  Alice wailed and Hunter wondered if she was worth the trouble.
	“Oh calm down, sheesh!”
	The girl didn’t calm down, but she didn’t carry on so as she had.  The day was getting on, it seemed to have suddenly advanced in hours and was now approaching evening type time.  Hunter didn’t know if it was a good idea to be out in the open, or in the woods.  Which was safer?  Or did it matter?
	He took the girl’s hand, she still sniveled but was accepting.

                                                 *****

	The spunk hitting her face was hot, ooey, sticky, icky.  And there was a lot of it, too.  Some she accepted, most spilled out of her mouth and onto her face anyways.  The huge cock continued jutting it’s liquid until completely emptied.  Wendsy clung to the huge pair of balls, squeezing them until all the juice it could produce (at the moment) was out.  The legs of the centaur were out wide, it’s horsey cock just barely touching the ground.
	Azmodeus pranced about on numb legs, his mouth moved up and down unable to speak.  In all his years he had never been able to cum so.  The odd human girl had sucked him and done things unto his cock (and balls) that no other human or creature had ever done.
	“Are you pleased?” she asked.
	Azmodeus couldn’t reply.  His cock languished in agony and pleasure, he could only prance about and wonder about the “next time.”
	The odd human girl, Wendsy, wiped her face and then looked about her new surroundings; lush rolling hills, very green and lush.  Small trees, almost bushes.  A few boulders here and there, a creek between them.  Wendsy sighted wisps of smoke trailing up from some of the hilly mounds that were close by, she also saw a bridge, small, crossing over some of the creeks.
	In the air there was the scent of tobacco, she thought she could catch the lingering pungent odor of reefer, among other odd scents here and there.  A magical land, a distant land.
	Azmodeus ripped a narly horsey butt blast, then seemed to be sufficiently recovered.  Wendsy remained sitting on a rock, it was uncomfortable but she sat anyways.  
	“To the North is the Land of Ar, the Farr Valley is south of here and stretches out to the Emerald Sea.”  Azmodeus pranced in place beside her, giving directions of where everything was.  “N’er Forest lays beyond the Vast Desert, from there the Mountains of Awe, the Kingdom of Arku.”
	“Where is HERE, though, what is this place called?”
	“One of the last bastions of peace and tranquility.”
	Wendsy looked to him, ‘And?’
	“Hobbiton.”
	Wendsy raised an eyebrow, ‘huh?’
	“Hobbits, furry funny little creatures, some ill mannered, most polite, generally good natured, usually drunk or smoking something.”
	Reefer, whacky-tobaccy, marijuana.
	“They are not overly outgoing, seldom straying away from their homeland for more than a day.  They keep to themselves and have nothing anyone wants; er, except their one potent commodity.”
	“And that is?”
	“Yer smelling it now.”
	Reefer, wahcy-tobaccy!
	“They were once known for their grand feasts and festivals.  But as the land changed they found growing the mind altering smoke more generous in keeping them in their status.  It pays to keep their homes safe.”
	“What do you mean.”
	“Vanguards, you haven’t seen any but they have seen you.”  
	Wendsy looked about, she did not see anyone.
	“Creatures of Shadows, as what they actually are, Shadow people.”
	“I-I don’t understand.”
	“The Hobbits employ the Shadows to keep their small community safe, and for a hundred years now they have done so.  No one comes to upset the little folk; not the orks, the evil dwarves, giants, or villain-grosse!”
	“Who are they?”
	“Evil creatures they are, the most evil creatures ever to breathe--”
	“But the Shadow people can defeat them?”
	“In a matter of speaking.”
	“How?”
	“I don’t know, I am not a Shadow!”
	Good point
	Wendsy sighed, she was really somewhere else.
	“It might be possible that the hobbits may be able to help you.”
	“Oh?” queried Wendsy, “How?”
	“Well, they’ve been around a long, long time; they know things, they know where things ought to be and where they used to be and where they might be again.”  he stepped forward a bit, tail swishing, cock languishing out of its sheath.  He rested his hands on his “hips” and pranced.
	“So if you want to find that “door” back to your world, they would be the ones to talk to.”
	Wendsy sat still a moment, then stood and came up alongside the centaur.  “What, what would they want in return?” she had no money.  She had no clothes!
	“Hmmmm, hobbits are queer folk, they often do things in their own way, bartering for what they need instead of coin.”
	That was even worse, Wendsy had nothing in the way of money OR bartering, she had nothing!
	“Perhaps you can TEACH them something.” he stated as he ripped another horrendous butt blast.  If she didn’t know better she would have sworn her farting belching brother was there!
	Wendsy had to think about it, what could she offer?  
	“They won’t turn you out,” further stated the centaur, “they’ll take you in, feed you and such.  Ask nothing in return.  Only your silence about their exact whereabouts.”  then, “And they will know if ye are lying.”
	“What about these Shadow things, will they just let me walk in?”
	There was a pause, “We shall see.”
	A small path led down between the lush green hills.  Birds chirped here and there, there were wildflowers and all things pretty and serene.  Boulders formed a fence of some sort, there were tall bushes and short ones, small sapling trees of some type or another.  
	Wendsy saw the tops of what looked like thatch, then small buildings were wagons were.  Her eyes detected small “hatches” in the hill sides, she supposed that they were “doors.”
	Azmodeus paused, “This is as far as I go.”
	“Why?”
	“I-I am too large--”
	“They do not like you?”
	“Oh it is not that, no--well, there was a war at one time, the centaurs and hobbits, along with several other creatures many years past, uhm, it’s a long story, perhaps another time.”
	“So have the Shadow people let me pass?”
	“Yes, apparently so.”
	“How do you, how, I didn’t see them?  How do they no I am not a danger?”
	“Well, at first they DID fear you?”
	“Really, why?”
	“Because thou art naked, so you must be able to produce magic and thusly be very magical to be so boldly about without clothing to protect you and such.”
	“Oh.”
	Some hobbits had already come out to the center “road.”  Small furry creatures, wearing clothes (some of them were.)  Other were either topless or wore no pants but some sort of undergarment thing like a boy’s jockstrap or bikini-style boy’s undies.
	Small round faces, lots of hair.  They weren’t shaggy or unkempt, well mannered and manicured.  None wore or seemed to possess SHOES.  Their feet were exceedingly hairy.  None of them were any taller than 4 feet!
	“Hi!” Wendsy said trying her best to be pleasing and non-frightening.
	It was then she noticed that Azmodeus was gone from her side.
	“You are a stranger.” stated the boldest hobbit.
	“Uhm, yes, I-I suppose I am.”
	“We don’t get many humans to our area.”
	“I’m lost, I came here by accident, would like to try and find my way back.”	
	“From where did ye come from?”
	Hmmmm, good question.  Wendsy wrinkled her face, “That’s kinda hard to explain, I-I’ve been traveling a lot, through--”
	“Ye can tell us later, after a bit o’ supper and a time to rest.” came another hobbit, a female.  She smoked on a corn-cob-pipe, it was richly filled with the finest “herb.”  Her eyes were glassy and she came forth, wrapping an arm about Wendsy’s shoulder and taking her to one of the “hatches.”
	It was a large hatch, Wendsy herself was not so out of line of the hobbit clan, which the clan was of the Tallowfoot Clan, it was etched into the door to the central meeting home, a burrow inside one of the many hills of Hobbiton.
	Inside was warm.  And richly decorated with rugs, tapestries, fine ornate furnishings, and naked things.
	Naked things?
	Aye, statues big and small, figures of clay, wood, and on oil paintings, too; naked hobbits, dragons with huge schlongs, some humans, other assorted monsters and creatures and human-kind.
	Wendsy spotted the catkin creature, in human-like form, sodomizing a human woman, she was bent over and formed of clay while the catkin tiger creature was of sterner stuff.
	Ohhhhhhhh-kay!

	Hospitality was astounding.  The hobbits seemed overly nice and went out of their way to serve her food and drink and happy smoke.  Wendsy didn’t want to be rude and took the odd-behavioral offering, but didn’t inhale.  The stench alone of the marijuana wafting through the air was enough to get one high.
	A hand woven shawl was present to Wendsy, she was introduced to nearly everyone of the Tallowfoot clan, names she would never remember.  They told her a few tales of visitors to their land, but seemed most eager to her tales of hers.
	Wendsy didn’t know what to tell them; she could make something up or draw on what she knew in regards to fantasy realms.  They were curious peoples and also were intrigued about her “travels” thru the Doorways.
	Wendsy remembered what the centaur had said about the hobbits being queer folk and knowing where things ought to be, used to be, and should be.  She hoped that her brother and Hunter were faring well.  She smoke some reefer, drank something called ferman tea, ate something called a scone, some cookies that tasted like almonds and lemons.
	Slowly she sought sleep and was not denied.
                                            *****
Painful Awe
	He grunted.  He had grunted before, many times during different “activities.”  He grunted hard, easy, and somewhere in between.  Usually the grunts were in relation to sex or pooping.  His mind cleared of all thought as now only the tumultuous deed of serious grunting invaded and took over.
	His hands gripped hard onto the log, the sun burned his skin, his eyes were bulging out of their sockets, a tingling sensation there was in his loins, his cock and balls.
	Behind him the uni-peg slid/rammed her magical horn deeper into September’s asshole.  There was naught for him to do but hang on for dear life, it was a new thrill (sexually) for the flying unicorn, it was a new thrill for September, too.
	When every inch had been “inserted” into September’s asshole, the magical beast pumped him, then withdrew and re-inserted until after a time she began to shimmer and cum.  A torrent of pleasurable personal juices spilled from her horse cunny.
	The horn was removed and September fell away.
	His escapade with the four footed beast was something.  His asshole smoldered for a long while afterward, Galadrieal pranced about, tossing her head about and prancing madly/wildly in sexual ecstasy.  September remained laying on the clover.
	At length she transformed back into human form and came to lay beside him.  She spoke in low tones but September had no idea what she said.  She handled his cock, squeezed his balls, and lightly touched his searing asshole.
	He reacted with his body involuntarily twitching.  Galadrieal giggled and then rested her head on his stomach, fondling his cock and balls.  Soon she began licking his swelled head, sucking on it before devouring it, swallowing his cock whole as well as his young traumatized testicles.
	It was a new sensation for him and she soon came to rest on his face, her moist cum drenched cunny reeked of horse cunt.  September didn’t know how much more he could take.  His cock exploded loads of spunk into her mouth, throat.
	She sat up, her funky twat still on his face.  She tweaked his nipples and asked, “Have you ever been spanked?”
                                             *****

Cum and other Stains
	Together they braved the night air, holed up in the hollow of a large tree just inside the forest.  Strange sounds unknown to him kept him alert most of the night.  He had managed to fashion something of a spear in order to fend off whatever or whoever should get nosey.
	Alice Goodheart slept soundly.  Her bitching of the no clothes issue diminished, she still didn’t like it, but at least was willing to let it be.  Hunter decided that it would be best to save the Pixie Dust, Wonderful stuff! until it was needed.	
	He was hungry.  Thirsty, and hungry; cold, too.  A nice hot bath would be nice.  A warm bed, hot chili burger w/fries, a chocolate shake--visions of delightful foods filled his mind.  He whimpered to himself, then cursed his foul luck.  He had always yearned for adventure, but DAMN!
	He fondled Alice, he had to.  Her skin was soft and alluring, she slept soundly and only stirred minutely when he fingered her pussy.  He wasn’t in the mood to shag her, that would come later.  He was morely hungry which amazingly took precedence over all.
	Thru the nite there were all sorts of sounds and noises that kept Hunter awake, alert, and fearful.  He clutched his stick and waited.  Nothing came, though.  Alice peed against him, but that was alright, he wanted to see her pee, maybe pee on his cock.  Gunther had made Dora and the other girls pee on his face, he watched Dora’s pussy pulse and twitch and then the steady stream of her urine splashed onto his face.
	It had been distasteful and gross but after Wendsy, Stephanie, Carlie, Mary Kate & Ashley, Tammy, and Andrea had whizzed on him, he was sort of used to it.  Sort of.
	Sleep began to overtake him just as Alice began to stir and the dawn of the day came to be.  Naturally.  He was tired, hungry, sleepy, horny, hungry, horny, tired, sleepy, etc.
	Alice sat up, arms about her knees.  Hunter didn’t know what to say, their situation was kinda dire.
	“All we can do is walk.  Something’s bound to come up,” to himself, ‘always does.’
	Alice blinked her pretty blue eyes, offered him a smile, and took his offering to leave the hollow and make tracks.