August Moone
Book 3
Sidetrips
Chapter 21
Other Stains

The Final Narly
	The dust had barely settled when the boys Chris & Harold had come to a wooded path.  Chris had stepped on a piece of broken glass that had gone through the thin sole of his shoe.  “Fuck!” he exclaimed.  It wasn’t a deep gouge in his foot, but there was blood.  He put his sock on and somewhat disgruntled about the whole affair of not finding Brandy he dressed.  Harold remained naked, ‘cept for shoes.
	“If we could stay out past dark,” casually mention Harold,
	“Yeah, I know,” replied Chris, “but we can’t.  When it gets dark our ass gots to be home.” not just because it was Chris’ dad’s rule, it was a National Guard curfew.  Citizen safety and all.
	Chris’ mind was filled with the deputy sheriff and the boys, the Chinese family, the wicked family with the dog, and he and Harold’s romping.  Was THAT all a dream, too?  Everything felt so real.  He knew it was driving him crazy, he couldn’t figure it, or finger it.  Nothing made sense.
	So wrapped up was he with his tormentuous thoughts that he almost failed to hear telltale sounds of merriment.  Harold seemed lost in thought, too.  Both boys nearly missed the Narly Business hidden in the woods.  
	Cautiously the boys slinked through the underbrush, coming upon a marvelous site:
	Two teens and two little kids.
	All four Chris and Harold knew.
	None of the four were clothed.  The little girl of the group was on her hands and knees, swallowing her best on the cock of the single male teen, while behind her the young boy of the group pounded her--in her ass(hole) or pussy wasn’t rightly/directly known.
	The teen girl caressed both boys’ ass, she was all giddy and blushing, rolling her tongue and cooing to her little step-sister.  She seemed concerned now and then, that bit of morality slipping into her consciousness, causing her to rethink her actions and participation, doubt and shame.
	But it soon passed and Brandy caressed her sister’s ass, too.
	Karen slurped on the teen boy’s cock, a boy named Logan whom attended Cartersville Middle School, he was in the 8th grade, a soccer player, pretty handsome, too.  A fleeting thought came to rest in Chris’ mind, having sex with Logan instead of Brandy!
	Logan was blond, short haired in a trendy sort of style, a fresh young boyish face.  Chris desired to shag the boy, he didn’t know--did it mean that he WAS gay?  He wanted to fuck Brandy, too--desperately, what did that say about him?  He was versatile, an equal opportunity lover?
	Little six year old Karen giggled as she sputtered on Logan’s bone, cum spewing out of her cute little face.  Eight year old Jackie banging her from behind pulled out and humped her crack, he sat back and masturbated, eyeing the girl’s lovely cute ass.  
	Brandy caressed her sister’s ass, then took over jerking off Jackie’s cock, ultimately going down and sucking him.  Logan, finished cumming into Karen’s sweet mouth took his tongue and finger’s to Brandy’s ready bobbing ass.  Karen spat out most of the goo in her mouth, turned about and sat down, legs open wide, fingering her pussy and watching her sister suck off on Jackie.
	Soon Logan was hard enough again and he pressed himself up against Brandy’s bobbing ass.  Karen sat by giggling.  Brandy wriggled her ass, Jackie enjoyed the blow.  
	Suddenly the sound of a car was close by, too close.  Everyone froze and panicked.  Chris and Harold pulled away from the Narly Site, slipping into a ditch.  A siren could be heard close by, too, out on the county road.
	There was a cloud of dust and a car sliding to a stop, the engine shut off.  Squealing tires could be heard on the road, distant sirens from another police car coming down the county road.  There was a rustling and something was thrown into the rough.  The boys could see two men changing clothes hurriedly and then jumping back into an old-old 1950s sedan, firing it up and speeding off down the road along the river towards the railroad.  
	Moments later and a sheriff’s deputy car zoomed along, it couldn’t be seen if it was the deputy from the recent narly incident.  Another sheriff’s car whizzed by followed by a local highway patrol car.
	The boys held their place for a moment, then slinked along on their bellies until coming to where the car had been, it was leaking oil and water.  The dust clouds had settled, the sirens were fading.  Prowling around the boys came upon a couple things, a sack and a gun.
	Chris wouldn’t touch the gun, it had a wooden polished handle, cold blue steel for the rest of the weapon.  Harold picked it right up, it was a 6-shooter.  He admired it, nodding and toyed around with it.
	“Watch it, Dude!” bitched Chris, “That fucker’s loaded!”
	He ducked away from his immature friend and took a look at the black airline ditty bag.  It was zippered, Chris unzipped it.
	“Holy fucking ape shit!” he exclaimed.
	Inside were jewels.  Jewels and stacks of money!
	“Son-of-a-fucking bitch!” bellowed Harold.
	“We’re fucking rich!”

	Another object of interest was something like a scope, a seriously hi-tech scope.  It took a moment or two to ascertain the scope, the boys took turns examining it and staring thru it, noting it could pick out an insect a mile (or so) away and see it’s asshole!
	It also had another unique feature, digital photography, the ability to take pictures and download them to a computer.  There was no computer, though, at the Mitchell household, but there WAS one at their school.
	Looking back into the bag, it was a handful of jewelry, necklaces and rings and stones.  The money was in five bundles wrapped with a rubber band.  Quickly the boys counted the bundles, mixed of denominations coming to a grand total of $15,257.
	The boys were overwhelmed.
	Then the roar of a car was heard--coming closer.
	The boys darted one way, darted another, crossed the road just in time to see a car loom into sight bounding over a small hill and basically coming apart as it hit the road again.  
	“Cripes!” shouted Chris, “They’re coming back!” the boys hastily fled into the woods, scrambling about the rough and finally diving to the ground.  The lead getaway car zoomed and screeched to a halt.  Two doors were heard opening.
	The boys held their breath and listened, they couldn’t see and the two desperados were fifty or so yards away.  A siren was coming quickly, following from the railroad track just beyond the Park.  The two men seemed to be searching for something, “It’s not here!” exclaimed one.
	“God-fucking-damn it I tossed it right here!” bellowed another.
	“Son-of-a-fucking bitch!”
	“We gotta scat, the cops!”
	“Fuck the cops, I aint leaving without that bag!”
	“Fuck the bag, I aint going back to Harvey!” later learned as Harvey State Penitentiary.
	But the sirens were coming closer.  One of the men cussed again and then there was the sound of two doors slamming, the car firing up and zooming off again.  Seconds later and three cars with loud sirens raced through the area.
	Chris and Harold hugged the ground for a long while thereafter.

	Talk about your quandaries, the boys counted and recounted the money, fondled the jewels, and were simply overwhelmed.  Both had wild dreams of what they could do, should do, would do.  The jewels were the hang up, they didn’t have girlfriends--but with the jewels they were sure that they COULD have girlfriends.
	The money was an issue, too:  fifteen grand, and some change.  Split evenly the $15,257 came to $7,628.50.  So many things they could do, new bikes, a computer, cameras, jazzy clothes.  It was mind boggling to say the least.
	At length, though, Chris wondered aloud what his Dad would think.
	“Whattya mean?” queried Harold.
	“Well, fuck man, he’s gonna get kinda curious when we start buying a bunch of new shit, huh?”
	Harold furled his lips, “Fuck!” Chris was right.
	“He might even think WE stole it!”
	“How?”
	Chris gave him, ‘What are you, stupid?’ look, the Pen Flasher was one thing.  Harold tried to convince his pal that they could actually claim that they DID find it.
	And Chris retorted that in that case it was highly likely his dad would be more than likely to do the RIGHT thing and turn the money in.
	“Is he fucking crazy!?” bitched Harold.
	Chris didn’t answer.  Harold fumed.
	“Fine, then, we wont fucking tell him.” said Harold.
	Which brought them back to the original problem--how to pull the money-wool over the old man’s eyes.
	“You, we COULD turn the money in ourselves…”
	Harold raised his eyes, he didn’t like that notion either.
	“No, listen, we turn the money in at the jewelry store is bound to give us a reward, we’ll be fucking heroes!” Harold’s eyes lightened up, he began nodding his head, the wheels in his head turned.
	“Course, those two bad guys gonna be pissed.”
	Harold rolled his eyes, Chris wished he hadn’t thought of that part, those two bad guys, if the cops didn’t catch them, they were bound to be on the look out, looking for their stolen loot and then--in the local papers and tv there were the two asshole kids who found it.  They wouldn’t be too fucking happy.
	So it was not without its hazards.
	They contemplated.  Argued.  Sighed and fumed.  They weighed the issue and at length came to conclude that turning the money and jewels in was the better idea.
	They dressed and piled the money back in the ditty bag, but not before wrapping the super hi-tech scope up in some rags and Chris doling out a few bills between them.
	Harold looked to his friend, ‘What gives?’ on his face.
	“Hey, fuck, I aint a total douche!” he doled out two-fifty a piece, they tucked the monies in their back pockets so it wouldn’t show so much.  They then scampered off thru the woods to cross into the Park and to the sheriff’s office.
	Their bearings were a little misconstrued and for a few minutes they were lost.  Which was not entirely a bad thing, they once more encountered Brandy and Logan, with Karen and Jackie.  They had moved, five hundred yards from their previous location to finish up what they had been doing.
	Chris utilized the super hi-tech scope and zeroed in on the action:
	Not bad, Logan had his cock buried to the hilt in Karen’s tight young snatch, occupying her face was her big step-sister Brandy, wriggling and forcing the girl to munch her.  Beside them young Jackie giggled, marveled, watched in fascination and jerked off.
	Chris utilized the super hi-tech scope gadget and snapped off a few pictures, he’d figure out how to download them safely later.  He needed leverage.

And then…
	He popped his neck and looked about the ground, the only problem with doing the “good deed” was that it would indeed gain them popularity, instant fame and everyone in the small country town would know.  Including Harold parents who had written him off as a runaway.
	Oops.
	“Well,” drawled Harold shrugging his shoulders, “maybe YOU could be the hero.”  neither wanted trouble with Harold’s parents, who probably wouldn’t give a shit anyway about his disposition, BUT; they probably sure as hell would want the reward money!
	Chris shook his head, “No, it’d still get around, we’re never a part, where I go, you are.”
	Harold nodded, it was well known the two were a pair, but so far the info hadn’t filtered back to Harold’s asswipe folks.  The subject of going back to school was in the mix, too. Harold didn’t really care for school and could care less about going back in the Fall, the subject hadn’t been broched by Chris’ dad, so the subject was iffy and in limbo.
	“Soooooo, what the fuck do we do now?” Harold whined, they were back to square one, peg two.
	“Well, I-I guess we COULD give it all to my dad and tell him what happened and let him deal with it.”
	Harold frowned on that idea.
	“Or, we could just simply fucking keep it!”
	Harold liked that idea.
	“We can sorta spend some now and then or save it for a big emergency or some shit like that.”
	Harold nodded, he liked the idea more and more.
	“If that Flash Pen ever fucks up on us, I bet we can get a girl to fuck us using the money!” concluded Chris.
	Harold smiled, “What the fuck are we waiting for!?”
	The boys collected themselves and headed for town.

	Mr. Jackoffski (not his real name but as close as the boys could come) was well pleased that the boys were paying their bill, Chris and Harold were into him for $10 worth of malts.  Chris forked over a twenty dollars bill, smiled and told Mr. Jackoffski to keep the change.
	For no other reason than just because, the boys made a healthy donation to the local Catholic church, two nuns were standing outside hocking handmade wares and blatantly asking for donations to fix the roof, floor, walls, and so on.
	It was Harold who made the gesture.
	And naturally one of the nuns was nosey and asked how the boys came to be in so much money.  The boys looked to one another, “Inheritance!” they said.  It was as good as any.
	The nuns were happy, real happy.  They blessed the boys and hugged them.  At the corner contemplating their new direction,
	“Damn, that Sister Agatha gave me a boner!”
	Chris hung his head; no tact, no fucking tact at all.  No morals, either!
	“I wonder what they look like under all that garb they wear?” Harold looked back as the two sisters babbled to the father of the church.  Quickly the boys ducked out of sight.  Harold ducked into a line of huge shrubs concealing the church’s old stone fence.  Quickly he hustled his cock out of his pants and began jerking.
	“Dude!” exclaimed Chris, “What the fuck up?”
	“Told you, asshole, that Sister Agatha gave me a boner!”
	Chris snarled up, “Dude, yer sick!  It’s bad enough we fucking lied to them about the money; we’re gonna go to hell for what you’re thinking about them now!”
	“Don’t you think that Sister Agatha is cute?” Harold complained still working his organ.
	“Well, yeah, I suppose, under all that black crap they wear.”
	“And Sister Rose looks pretty good, cant tell their fucking ages, though, I don’t know why--” he stopped as he began to work his favorite muscle into the epitome of ah!
	He stopped, though, bracing against the wall.  “Fuck, man, I’d sure hate to waste this.”
	Chris knew what he wanted to do.  He shook his head, “Dude, yer gonna get us in a world of hell!”

	Chris wasn’t Catholic, but Harold was.  He had been in the Church a few times and had even tried out for the alter boy position.  It was his dad who made him quit ‘cause he believed all priests were gay pedophiles.  Harold didn’t care.
	Being mid week the Church was mostly vacant, it wasn’t as grand inside as Chris thought it would be, but it was a small rural community and so the church was not like the big city ones.
	It was, though, dark.
	Not a lot of light, course, without a lot of peoples inside light was not a necessity.  Whispering voices could be heard from one of the confessional booths, something made noise down where the hallways to the offices were, muffled voices were elsewhere.  Chris and Harold stole along the dark walls and slinked along searching for Sister Agatha and Rose.
	Harold tugged on Chris, leading him to a very dark area along the wall close to the front area, along the wall hung a great tapestry--the lighting was too dim to make the tapestry out (Harold bitching wondering why all the bother to hang a rug on a wall!)
	But, behind the tapestry/rug was a secret.  A secret wall.  It angled outward some allowing someone to slip behind the hanging and into a very narrow passageway.  It was cool and dark and very musty.  The boys paused a moment, Chris’ heart beating, this was getting a little crazy and it wasn’t too late to back out.
	But Harold’s eyes adjusted and they began to scoot along.
	They came just 20 feet and to a “T” intersection.  There were a short flight of steps/stairs up to a small landing and an even smaller “nook” door.  To the right there was something of an alcove.  Harold knelt down and brought his nervous sidekick along.  Carefully Harold slid open a small opening, he put his fingers to Chris’ lips to silence him.
	Peering beyond the “opening” they were privy to seeing a nearly nude ten year old boy in a small office-like room with a priest.  Typical.  Harold had his cock out again.  The boy was just in the process of lowering his underwear, the priest caressed the boy’s bare butt as he stooped over.  The boy seemed a little frightened, scared.  The priest seemed horny.
	The boy stood up, the kept a hand on the boy’s bum, his free hand began fondling the naked youth, cupping and tugging on the lad’s hairless nads, tugging on his little dinky.  The boy stood shivering, staring straight ahead to a wall lined with books.
	“Just relax.” whispered the priest.  No reaction from the boy, just standing shivering and staring.
	The priest, Father Mally, ran a finger up the boy’s crack.  He then bent the boy over and began prodding the ole backdoor.  He sucked on his finger and made great strides at anal penetration via finger.  He then stood and pulled from his pocket a black scarf.  This was tied about the boy’s head, covering his eyes.
	The boy did nothing, he stood still shivering, clenching his fists.
	Father Mally faced the young naked boy, smiling and looking down at him.  He cocked his head as if straining to pick up any sounds he should make note of.  Hearing nothing serious he pushed his priest jacket aside and unleashed his priestly penis.  It was already quite stiff.  He flogged it a moment and then leaned in, placing a hand behind the boy’s head he brought his cock and the boy’s lips to meet.
	The boy did shake his head, despite being blindfolded he knew what was about to happen and didn’t care for it.  But the priest was determined held the boy’s head.  Oral penetration came in mere seconds, the priest crammed his mighty rod into the boy’s gullet.
	“Suck it!  Suck it!” commanded the priest.  Chris was a little appalled, Harold overly excited.
	The boy cried and tried to push away.  Angrily Father Mally wrestled with the boy and pressed him to his body and then walloped his bare little ass repeatedly.  When the boy’s ass was beet red he was once more faced with gobbling dong.
	The boy, Michael, shivered more, caressed his burning ass, shed some tears, and swallowed cock.  Father Mally worked his cock back and forth in the boy’s mouth, pulling out and humping the boy’s face.  He was a handsome fart, sandy brown hair, blue eyes, boyish features abound.
	Turn about is fair play, after just a few good hearty pumps the boy was hefted up onto an antique writing desk.  The priest then went down and serviced the boy, working his little dinkus, tugging on his bare balls, and sucking his little dick to a serious hard state of being.
	This was followed by the little boy being pushed down onto the desk, his legs lifted and held up--Father Mally undone his black priest slacks and let them fall.  He caressed his bare ass and worked his priestly cock into Michael’s super tight sphincter.
	The boy griped the edge of the ornate desk, thrashing about some, his ass still a little reddened from the spanking.  Mally spit on the boy’s hole and then lubed his cock up with an application of petroleum jelly from the desk drawer.  Anal penetration was made easier and ten year old Michael McBeavy was sodomized.

	When that ordeal was over, it wasn’t over, it was only the beginning.  Father Mally wiped his cock and Michael’s asshole clean, then wrestled with the boy some more making him stand in a corner (still naked) reciting scriptures.  
	Father Mally, with his pants off and cock still hard, stepped to a “secret door” and tapped on it, then slid it open.  It was dimly lit beyond but three boys came out.  They had been smoking, marijuana.  They were giggling and smiling.  They shook hands with the priest, he hugged them each and then they began undressing.
	Harold brought out the super-duper spy scope, al la hi-tech.  Chris moved out into the small dark kinda dank hall, what a day!  The little being forced to get it with the dog, the Chinese family, the jewelry bandits, and now the priest!
	In the little room the boys had stripped down to their Birthday Suits, they had adequate schlongs, half erect and ready for actions and not abashed about being nude.  Two of the boys were preteen while the other was a year or so older.  Alter boys.  Both Chris and Harold knew them, not personally but recognized from the school campus.
	Father Mally caressed the fresh nude boys, tugged on their dongs and brushed his own pud against theirs.  Then, his attention was focused to the young blindfolded boy in the corner.  He was brought into the center and laid across the priest’s lap, his cheeks were spread and one of the boys went to his knees and began licking Mike’s asshole!
	The boy squirmed but was spanked for doing so.  The boy giving him a rim job finger fucked him, spanked him, pulled on his little balls and then stood up, his cock was ready.  Father Mally tugged on the older boy’s dong and then helped guide it into Michael’s rectum.  The priest caressed the old boy’s ass and there was anal penetration.
	The other two youths began servicing one another, sucking first and then ball washing followed by rim jobs.  All three boys took a turn at filling the ten year old boy’s asshole, then under the priest’s direction they stood before the hapless child, bent over and spread their cheeks.  The ten year old boy was coerced strongly to apply his tongue and lick their holes.
	When he was at last stood up, he himself had a bit of a boner going.  Father Mally fondled it, sucked it, and then had the three other boys service it before once more spreading their cheeks and having the ten year fuck them.

	It was Chris’ turn, he came and tugged on totally absorbed Harold.  Harold followed his pal up the short set of steps (not stairs) and thru the open door, down a short hallway between “walls” to another door that opened to a larger hallway, a regular type one.
	Close by in an open room were some voices.  Chris knew he shouldn’t but he directed his friend to have a look.  Harold’s eyes bulged, Sister Agatha and Sister Rose were within.  Alone.
	“I saw them “kissing” earlier.” Chris told his friend.
	Harold gulped.
	“Dude, we gotta!” he said with enthusiasm, eyes wide and hopeful.
	Chris clutched the Pen Flasher, he shook his head internally, popped his neck.  He was going to burn in hell for sure for this episode.  It was bad enough to scrog on one’s sister let alone a Sister-Sister!
	But scrog they did.  Harold made a noise and when the two nuns had their attention distracted Chris “flashed” them.  Quickly the boys entered into the room, closing the door and locking it.  There were no other doors.  Harold wasted no time in stripping off his clothes.  Cum strands dripped from his cock.  He pressed himself up against Sister Agatha, hands groping her and raising up her layered black penguin outfit.
	He was surprised to find the lack of underwear, ‘specially panties.  
	Harold was already schlepping his salami into Sister Agatha, SHE had panties, they were dangling off an ankle but she had them.  Their clothes were too complicated to strip off so the boys merely pushed the heavy layered garments up enough so as to work their cocks into the women’s cunnies.
	Chris didn’t know if Sister Agatha was virginal or not, Sister Rose wasn’t, but she wasn’t a slut, either--she was pleasingly tight and Chris balled her until shooting a massive wad of spunk.  He couldn’t free her breasts so he kissed on her and drove his cock into her sopping wet cunny until his cock lost all umph.
	Harold had done virtually likewise, sat back on his haunches and urinated on the woman’s pussy.  His cock ached and he wanted to butt fuck her, but his cock wouldn’t perform.  Chris stretched and marveled at Sister’s Rose’s snatch, it was not very hairy as Brandy’s mom’s cunt had been.  
	Harold used Agatha’s panties to “clean up”, he then snagged the undies and the boy semi returned the two women to their original state of being.  Then made a hasty retreat.
	They returned the way they had come, pausing long enough to see what was happening with Father Mally.  The room was empty.  Oh well.  The boys secretly left the building.
					******

	So far it was still an “open campus.”  It was adorned with sycamore trees, birch, and dozens of other foresty type trees and bushes and shrubs.  A nice school, it was home of the Cartersville Middleschool Wildcats, only the 8th grade class had a “team”, basketball, baseball, soccer, and football.  The 6th and 7th grades had members for those sports, just not enough to qualify for a “team”--er, especially a team who could win at least ONE game a season.
	For two weeks the schools in Cartersville had been closed, school activities still were available, but due to the national crisis the students were allowed to stay home.
	But that was due to change as the chaos of the land was simmering down and their were “treatments” for the radiation fallout.  School was still deemed a necessary thing, life still had to go on as normal, and education was foremost.
	Not everyone was in agreement, of course, so the debate of having students return to school still raged.  Meanwhile, two particular students stole onto the campus, making for the school’s one and only computer room (to download the pictures Harold/Chris had snapped during their romping.)
	“Boys!  What are you doing!?”
	Busted!
	Chris and Harold whirled around, there standing at the door was Ms. Pepper.  The woman/teacher of Chris’ dreams.  He was stunned.  Deeply.  And in a frozen panic.  Thank goodness Harold wasn’t, he got a hold of the Flash Pen and activated it.
	Chris’ asshole tightened up, his balls surged, he had difficulty breathing; “Sweet sorry son-of-a-bitch!” he breathed.  Stepping up to Ms. Pepper he immediately pawed at her 36C titties, Harold stepped up to her, smiling, nodding his head, lusting.
	Being near Summer, late Spring, Ms. Gloria Pepper wore a thin wispy flowery silky dress, knee length.  Her hair was golden, shoulder length, she was fine--very fine.  Chris found himself caressing her ass, Harold took a hand and made him fondle his crotch.  He smiled devilishly, Chris was in a funk, it was his fucking dream coming to life.  That was spooky.  He didn’t stop fondling his teacher’s ass, though.
	Harold closed the computer classroom door, locked it, then stepped up behind the teacher raising her dress.  Chris was still in a bit of an awed funk.  He blinked his eyes trying to make sense of it.  Ms. Pepper stared straight ahead, breathing only.
	Harold had pulled her panties down to mid thigh, his pants were already down at his ankles, his ever rock hard cock pressed against her flesh, gouging up and down her crack.  Chris was totally lambasted, Harold totally involved, lifting off the woman’s dress.  She was judged to be in her late 20s, very fine body, trim-slim, and just right.  Perfectly shaped orbs on her chest; no blemishes, no scars, no unsightly moles.  
	It was noted that she DID have a tattoo, a grinning little red devil on her right shoulder.  On further examination it was discovered a rearing unicorn on her pussy!  Oh my!
	As for poon pie covering she kept her pubes well trimmed.  The devil and unicorn were her only tats.  The boys rendered her butt bare ass naked, as they did unto themselves.  They were like a pair of giggly school girls, they laid the zombied woman out on a table-desk, legs open, eyeing her and then devouring her cunny one at a time.
	While one did the cunt munch the other stuffed her mouth with his tube steak.  Not wanting to cum off into her mouth, not yet anyways, Chris held back, wanting to save the cum shoot for Ms. Pepper’s pussy.  He humped her pretty face, poked her nose and ears and rested his sweaty funky balls in her mouth.  Harold had finished his deed of cunt munching and stood up between her legs, he rubbed the head of his cock all over her pussy.
	It was unbelievable, to Chris anyways.  They were actually getting away with it.  They had gotten away with so much so far.  Chris had a fleeting thought and knew that his Dad was right, the Flash Pen was a dangerous thing and their doings could get out of hand, security issues could be flaunted and--and there were unknown penalties to suffer if they weren’t careful.
	Harold arched his back as he drove his cock into Ms. Pepper’s twat, Ms. Pepper made some minor emotions dictated as somewhat realizing that she was being nailed.  But she was still zombiefied so Harold continued; Harold would continued regardless of Ms. Pepper’s state of mind.
	The Cheerleader Five; Hanna, Daphne, Rachel, Raylynn, Denise. Especially Denise.  Chris gulped, they flooded his mind, his body and soul.  Mostly his mind, and a lot to his cock.  He imagined them all naked, spread out and receiving him.  He imagined peeing on them, watching them sucking each others titties, spanking them, watching them pee on one another.
	“Dude?”
	Chris’ eyes fluttered, Harold was grinning stupidly at him, “You gonna bone her or what?” gobs of cum drizzled from his pecks as he saddled up against the Gloria Pepper’s face, he had humped his fill and was now offering Chris a turn.
	Chris’ own bone was shooting cum.  He held back and drove his aching fuck pole into the woman’s cunt.  He had enjoyed screwing Brandy’s mom, and he still wanted to.  He wanted to screw Brandy so bad he couldn’t stand it, he had gotten into her just a little and it was grand.  He didn’t care to fuck her asshole, it had been alright and all, but no longer.  It was pussy or nothing.
	He plowed into Ms. Pepper, clearing his mind of all other things and concentrating solely on pumping the bejesus out of his teacher.  Harold was in agony himself and took the moment to chill.  Chris found Ms. Pepper’s cunt delightful.  It was super tight, but it was pleasing enough just the same.  He gave her a might cum wash and felt his body virtually collapsing in on itself.
	Harold sat fondling his soiled prick, licking his lips.
	“What?” Chris asked seeing something going on on his pal’s face.
	“Well, I was just thinking--well, Ms. Pepper’s class aint to far from her--”
	“Yeah, down the hall and across to the annex building.  Why?”
	“What grade are you getting?”
	Chris rolled his eyes, try as he could he wasn’t managing more than a lousy “C” grade.
	Harold’s eyes brightened.

	They narrowly avoided the wandering security guard, too busy yapping with a perky Jennifer Cox who was fifteen and about the cutest girl in the entire student body of Cartersville MiddleSchool.
	Old Jack Holms the black janitor they saw but he didn’t see them.
	There were students on campus, but not in the instructional mode, they gathered “just because” and some teachers were about to “discuss” openly the state of the fucked up world, the national affairs, and lightly on the other subjects of the school.
	No one was in the annex building, the school had grown in years and required “annex” buildings to those already present.  No one was in Ms. Pepper’s class, either.  The boys surreptitiously walked with Ms. Pepper.  Though Harold wanted to walk about butt bare assed naked, Chris’ cool head saw them clothed.
	But once inside the classroom they were once more butt bare assed naked, stripping Ms. Pepper down and balling her.  Chris did, Harold tended to the grade book.
	“Make sure you adjust the scores, too.” Chris said as he fucked his favorite teacher on her desk, her titties jiggling as he plowed her.  Harold made the “adjustments” to the scores of their tests throughout the semester, and then rescinding the lousy “C” grade to a more appropriate B-plus.  An “A” would stand out too much and raise undue suspicion.
	After a bit of rest Harold picked up the chalk pointing stick.  Something was going in his mind.  
	“What up, dude?”
	Harold shrugged and didn’t explain.  Chris didn’t press it, didn’t care.  They put Ms. Pepper back together, minus her panties (just like in the dream).  Harold stared at her a little more.  Chris waited impatiently at the door, “Dude, come on.”

	Heather Gains, Holly Binkman, Grace Tilly, Jolene Utell.  Four girls who warmed the very cockles of the boys’ love sacs.  Heather was a long tall brunette, very-very trim, perfectly shaped body, great boobs, terrific ass, sweet smile.  She was fourteen and so damn cute it was pathetic.
	Holly Binkman had BIG boobs, they jiggled too and she was sort of a flirt.  Grace Tilly was the blond of the group, she was dynamite in a small package, she had let her golden hair grow clear to her delightful butt that swished teasingly as she walked.
	Jolene Utell was the only girl who mostly wore pants, slacks, tight jeans (although designer.)  She seldom wore dresses except on special occasions.  Regardless of what she wore, she was incredible to behold.
	All four would be wondrous candidates for a cheerleading squad, but they weren’t. Nor were they members of any particular “team” of any kind.  They weren’t in the choir, either.  They were just cute.  They were buds, they were desirable on the highest level.  It was assumed that every boy in school jerked off to their image.
	They were on campus as Chris and Harold made their way along, considering paying Ms. Beaver a “visit.”  Ms. Beaver was hot.  She was a little older than Ms. Pepper, but that only meant she was “experienced.”  she was cute, trim and slim, looked great in a dress or skirt outfit and gave the boys fits when she wore casual jeans.  She taught 8th grade English and Chris/Harold couldn’t wait to get to her grade level.
	They had seen Ms. Beaver in conference with some other students, she wasn’t in her class as the boys slinked by.  They could still smell her perfume, though, lingering in the still warm air.
	The boys paused at the stucco corner and stared back to the quad where the crabapple tree took center stage surrounded by a supporting cast of persimmon trees.  Heather, Holly, Grace, Jolene stood gaggling.  Holly wore a short skirt that if she would only bend over a bit the boys watching would get a crotch shot.
	“Man, if we could only get them alone, one at a time.” Chris mouthed.
	Harold agreed, “Fuck, I’d like to take ‘em home!”
	“I bet my Dad would love that!” Chris scoffed.
	“Shit fire, he might!”
	Chris nodded, ‘Hell, he just might!’

	A member of the Cheerleader Five came into being; short skirt, bouncy chest, bouncy blond hair, ravishing bod.  She carried herself well and carried some school books and a gym bag.  Why she was alone wasn’t clear, but Chris and Harold didn’t care.  Harold hurled a bottle and let it break fairly close to her, when her attention was distracted Chris whipped out the Flash Pen and zapped her.
	Quickly she was hustled into a vacant classroom.
	The door was locked and braced with a chair, the window blinds shuttered closed and the shenanigans began.  Chris mostly just sized the girl up, Harold once more stripped off his clothes.  Chris followed soon after, staring at the girl.  He took her hand and had her fondled his prick and balls, Harold raised her short skirt and caressed her ass, slipping his hand inside her pink panties.
	Wearing a low-cut semi plunging V-neck blouse enticed Chris to tug the garment down, exposing her narly pair of medium sized “B” cup hooters.  Chris admired them, they were supple, luscious, perfect.  He felt his balls surging, his cock strengthening.  Harold behind her was on his knees, slowly lowering her panties, kissing her ass and preparing for the ultimate thrill.
	Chris suckled the girl’s titties, working her blouse off of her shoulders, tweaking the nipples.  He desired her deeply.  He could never get tired of fucking her.  Or Raylynn, Rachel, Daphne, and especially Denise.  Then the other girls, Ms. Pepper--on and on it went.  He sighed and sank his tongue into the teen girl’s mouth.

	Hanna was soon rendered naked and “bent over.”  Harold buried his face into her ass crack, Chris sat on the desk with his cock buried into the girl’s mouth.  In his mind he imagined his dad doing likewise.  He knew sort of kind of that his dad would probably be fairly cool the narly shenanigans; he may have issues with the “kidnapping” part, but as far as sinking himself into the “captives”…
	“Captives!”  Chris shook his head, what was he contemplating?  Could he, would he, should he???  He knew Harold the Tactless would probably be all for it and have no qualms at all.  The desire to have the girls filled Chris.  His mind wandered and wondered where at the house he could actually keep them.
	Then he smiled, inwardly and outwardly.
	The basement, the cellar.  It was perfect.  Part of the sub area was storage for household furniture as well as canned foods and the like.  But a big portion was just empty.  It was dank and dark and perfect for a dungeon.  Chris licked his lips and was scarcely aware of ejaculating into Hanna’s sweet-sweet mouth.
	Harold had completed his tour of duty tonguing Hanna’s ass, he stood and probed her glory hole with his probing fuck stick.  She was tight, Harold said so.  He griped her at the hip and guided his missile into her.  Chris humped the girl’s face until he was contented.

After School Extra Curricular Activities
	School was nice, but there were other places.  They had all but given up on finding Brandy again.  The only way would be to stay out past curfew and stake out the girl’s house.  They felt that they had done enough for one day, it had been quite a day, fulfilling in everyway.  ($$)
	Both boys complained to themselves and lightly to one another about their aching cocks.  They each believed that they were fucking their fill, in that this was as good as it was going to get--something like that.  Since coming into maturity and developing a schlong that was good enough to master and jerk off, they had done so and done more than they ever thought they would.  They believed that it couldn’t get any better.
	And with the possession of the Flash Pen, it was even more so.
	“New bikes.” Chris said.
	“For damn sure.” Harold amended.
	Chris had come to the conclusion that they WOULD tell Carl about the booty bag and how they had come to have it, and why they hadn’t turned it in.  He knew that they were some bills that needed to be paid, paid up, paid on.  Both Chris and Harold debated how “much” to tell, er, how much was the actual count of the money.  They both feared that the old man would take the whole thing, “put in a safe place for college” or some lame crap like that and they’d be lucky to get a fucking dollar out of it.
	Concluding that they would keep five hundred of the fifteen thousand plus for themselves, they paid attention to where they were.  A church.  A Methodist church, it was one of the last public buildings on the way out of town on their way home.
	They wouldn’t have paid much more attention save for the Johansen family.  Chris sometimes attended the church, sister Suzie did so more than he, their father Carl less than Chris.  But Chris had been there enough times to know some of the peoples.  The Johansens were one he knew, not personally but well enough to know their names.
	The “mister” of the family wasn’t there, but the crux of the family was:  consisting of the mommy, two adorable daughters, and a pre-teen son.  There was some sort of activity going on at the church; the Johansens were strong members with both parental units having actual job/positions.  There weren’t a lot of activity going on, some teen girls were in the kitchen creating wondrous smells of cooking up something for an impending bake sale.  There seemed to be a gathering of worshippers for some reason or another but it was scheduled for later in the eve and the Johansens were just early.
	And Chris and Harold were just in time.
	Patricia Johansen Chris had longed for.  She was seriously out of his league, in her late 30s or maybe even beyond, she had a fifteen year old daughter so she had to be at least twice that in age.  At least.  Another daughter was nine with the single son at twelve.
	Patricia Johansen was cute, she in part sort of kind of resembled a nationally known home guru.  Chris often imaged the hoity-toidy uppity bitch sucking his cock, and often whacked off to her as she hocked her wares and advice on national late night TV.  Patricia Johansen warmed the cockles of his soul, too.  But since she was out of his league and he knew that he would never ever be able to score with her, he put her out of his mind.  (just on his cock!)
	Daughters Kassy and Keri were damn cute themselves.  Damn cute.
	Kyle was okay, for a boy.
	Kassy was the nine year old, long straight luxurious blond hair, a great sunny disposition, a nice trim little body.  She seldom wore anything but dresses or skirts.  Sometimes she was seen in jeans or usually slacks if she wore pants at all.  Her sister Keri was the opposite.  She also had short silky dark brown hair.  So did brother Kyle.   Hmmmm
	The family was watched/observed for a few minutes, Chris had a deep-deep desire to fuck the mother, then he wanted to poke the ass of Kassy and spew a load into older sister Keri.  Brother Kevin would be the dessert.
	Harold had about the same notions and desires.
	Patty J had an office, it was here the family entered.  A moment later and the two girls exited and made for the kitchen askew and across an open courtyard.  The door to the “office” was left wide open.  Chris held his breath.
	Harold wasn’t known at the church, he didn’t believe in church attendance--until realizing that that was where all the prettiest girl were.  He was a ready convert.  He slipped up to the open door and got the mother and young son’s attention.  The boy was at a computer, the mother at her desk.
	Patti J got zapped first, the boy turned his head to get his Flash just in time.  Harold stood at the door frame just inside, out of sight, keeping watch to see if the two girls might possibly come back.  Chris came to Ms. Johansen, marveled at her and was awed.  First it was Ms. Pepper, those nuns, and now--Ms. J.
	He stood behind her, hands around to her breasts.  He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feel job.  His balls ached, his asshole tightened, his cock surged.  He turned her about in her swivel chair and pushed her head down to his aching crotch, having her suck him thru his jeans.  His mind was in a blur, he thought ahead of her laying out on the desk, the floor, in his basement; butt naked, tied up, and being pounded on by himself and his dad.
	“Psst!  Company’s coming!” whisper shouted Harold.
	Chris quickly came to his friend who was behind the open door, it opened into the room and the boys were behind it, peering thru the crack.  The girls were caught totally off guard, babbling and being typical chipper.
	As soon as they came fully inside, Harold slammed the door shut using his body weight; it significantly startled the girls, they whirled around and were flashed.
	Chris knew that having the family Johansen in a more secure location would be more apropos, but be that as it may--the office would have to do.  Though there could be any sort of interruption at any moment, Chris and Harold undressed the family totally; taking their time, too.
	Patti was first.  Together the boys s-l-o-w-l-y undressed the woman, ogling her and devouring her with their eyes.  She wore beige panties with a matching bra.  She had some hips on her, but a nice tight ass.  No tats on her twat, just a nice furry mound of soft silky poon hair, neatly trimmed bikini style.
	Chris was absorbed with her.  More so than Ms. Pepper or any other woman.  Secretly.  He didn’t know why, she had something about her that he wanted--other than her pussy.  Her hair was a light color of brown and blond mix, it gently coifed her head/face.  She was approx. 38 years young.  Harold humped his cock, it was pretty much fucked out and scarcely would “arise” to the occasion despite the lovely naked woman sprawled out on the floor.
	‘Please, don’t let this be a dream!’ Chris said to himself--although he didn’t really fucking care one way or the other.  He mounted her and though his own bone refused to fully strengthen, it did so after a few seconds of cunt humping and then the subsequent penetration.
	He felt the need, the urge, to cum; but there was none left in his ball sac.  He humped anyways, strained within the love tunnel and scooched on the carpet.  The woman beneath him made some faces and contortions, Chris tried straining as if he were being sucked inward.
	Meanwhile--Harold lifted the short dress that Kassy wore.  She wore a checkered blue/white dress that was mini, mid thigh, it was actually a short-tall having a dark blue shirt underneath.  Light blue kiddie panties under the dress.  Very nice.  Very nice indeed.  Harold pulled the undies down to the young girl’s knees.  It helped Chris achieve orgasm, staring at the young naked hairless poon of the young girl.  
	It was overwhelming, the orgasm.  He felt himself caving in.  he was not in control of his body for several minutes and was glad the air conditioning kicked on and cool him.
	When he pulled his prong out another strand of cum shot out and sent another wave of intense orgasmic sensations throughout his body.  He shuddered and then rolled off of the sweat drenched woman.  Harold had placed a hickie on each cheek of Kassy, then went down and began a munch job on the mother’s cum soaked cunt.

	Definitely they needed to have a central locale so as to “store” whoever they desired so as not to wear themselves out in one session.  After the mother Chris pulled off Kassy’s dress, sucked on her little breasts, cupped and squeezed her ass.  He spent several minutes on her, his cock screaming in agony and did not become engorged.
	He drove his tongue into the child’s mouth and then laid her out on the desk, her legs over his shoulders and his tongue driving into the child’s cunny.  She was a virgin.  She smelled a little of pee, it enticed Chris and soon he felt his cock filling with strength.
	Harold sank his bone into the mother and pumped his all.
	Chris looked at him after the boy had fucked several minutes, apparently came, and then lay still on the woman.  Chris nudged him, the boy barely moved.  He was alright, just fucking exhausted.  Somehow Chris found the strength (in his legs) to stand; he brought his aching prick up and gouged the little girl’s cunt.
	He thought he would pass out.  The feeling was beyond words, he pressed into her, gouging her lips.  He raised her legs and poked at her pert super tight shit hole.  Desperately he wanted to fuck her, but he didn’t want to do so in the office setting, that would spoil any chance of getting her (alone) and possibly adding her to the “dungeon.”
	Sister Keri, though, was a different story.  She was fifteen and not a virgin.  Both her pussy and asshole were “giving.”  Chris humped the gash, she didn’t have “pouting” lips but a giving pussy.  Chris felt as though he were close to passing out, but he had to fuck the girl, he just had to.

Converts
	There were no windows to speak of, the two that there were were kinda fucked up; dingy and grimey and did little to illuminate the deep dank room.  A water heater and electrical service panel occupied one corner, crates of various household crap occupied another.  Various woodworking projects lined the far wall by the stairs, more crap of this nature and that occupied the empty spaces in between.
	Ten feet from the ceiling to the floor.  The ceiling was wood construction with heavy cross timbers.  The floor was partially earth and poured cement of which most was broken by years of decay.  It was creepy, but perfect for a dungeon setting.
	But could it really be done?  He knew his Dad would probably have some qualms.  He did himself.  But, he had done some terrible things, serious narly illegal and illicit things.  So had has dad.  Could they willingly engage/participate in abduction for sexual proposes of perversions.
	Chris sat on the bottom steps contemplating.  He flicked small stones and listened to a mouse somewhere within the dank dark soon to be possible dungeon.  Could it really happen?  He had heard in the news a while back where somewhere on the east coast some guy had a dungeon for just such purposes; he was caught and upheavaled as one of his captives managed to escape and rat him out.  Some of the “captives” had been incarcerated as many as three years.  There were at least a dozen girls, as young as 14 and as old as 30 something.  All for sexual proposes.
	Chris’ pending and posing questions plagued.  He tried figuring if there was a proper way to brooch the problem with his dad.  He wasn’t the bold type.  He needed another method.
	That method came as one day Suzie was off with Shelly, Carl needed help and the boys were the help.  A generator at the far end of the ranch had stopped working and needed fixing.  Chris brooded about the money issue, too, since arriving home the ditty bag was secured in a secret location and not brought into play, not yet.
	A new generator would be just the thing instead of wasting hours trying to make it work.  Casually Chris had asked just how much a new generator would cost, just out of curiosity.
	Carl was evasive and only hinted that it was “more than we’ve got.”
	Which only perpetuated the situation with Chris.
	But by noon type time the generator was fixed (again) struggling to pull up water from deep down in the earth.  Carl leaned against the family pickup, wiping his brow and thankful once more.
	“Sure is hot.” babbled Harold.  “Why don’t we go swimming!” he stated with enthusiasm rather than stating a question.
	Chris shrugged, he was cool with that.  And surprisingly so was Carl.
	The truck could only go so far, the terrain got a little rough.  But it was not a long walk and the gang brought their lunch.  At the quarry Daddy Carl frowned, he noted the potential hazards, unseen hazards laying in wait under the water’s surface.  But it was serene and the cool waters were refreshing.  After a bit of rest from the mile walk the shed their clothes and made for the water.
	Harold climbed to the top of one of the rocky outcroppings, flopped his dong, then grabbed a holt of his nuts and barrel jumped into the middle of the watery quarry.
	Chris soon followed.
	The boys frolicked, bouncing into one another like at a grunge-mosh pit.  Surprisingly they were joined by Carl.  He made a whoop and a holler and sailed into the semi murky waters of the quarry.
	More frolicking.  Lots more.
	Their frolic soon came onto the shore in what little shade there was.  Here Chris found some torn pages of a porno magazine, featuring bitches, skanks, and ‘ho’s doing one another, single handed stuff, peeing on one another, and spankings where the bum was severely reddened.  There were a couple of pictures of women being tied up, strung up by hands and then hands and ankles, hog tied.
	There was much interest in the dirty glossy magazine pix, all three interested parties got wood.  In Chris’ mind there was much ado about “thinking.”  Pre-thinking.  Thinking ahead.
	He found, too, a yellow rod from a quarry site machine no longer in service.  It was sort of rusted, after some cleaning he proceeded to jam it up his ass.
	It was too long to cram all the way in, but he tried, he pulled it out and spanked himself, then rammed it up his ass again.  There was an obsession beyond comprehension about the ordeal.  He had buggered himself with broom sticks, graduating from probing himself with his fingers.  He had once stuffed a bar of soap up his hole--twernt easy, either.
	He liked vegetables best, cucumbers, zucchini, bananas and carrots were the easiest.  The worst was the bottle necks of wine and beer bottles he had found, they weren’t too giving or kind to his bum.  He preferred Harold’s cock, or his dad’s.
	His dad and Harold were already “hooked” up, Harold on his hands and knees being buggered.  Chris kept the steel rod in his ass and positioned himself in front of pal Harold filled the boy’s other “hole.”
	The event was orgasmic.
	The metal pipe in Chris’ ass was replaced by rock hard cock.  In his mouth he slurped on semi hard seriously funky poppy-cock.  The three continued their sexual efforts for another hour before pausing to refreshen in the quarry.
	Harold climbed up to another precipice, it was a little high and the angle not quite right for plunging into the quarry.  Carl yelled at him not to do it.  Harold nodded and disappeared over the ridge of limestone jutting rocks lining the outer perimeter of the site.
	Chris lay out in the shade, his asshole smoldering, his balls searing, his cock “out to lunch.”  His dad wandered around the edge of the water, looking up to the rocky rim where Harold had last been.  The boy came out from a different location, hurriedly and frantically.
	“What up?” Chris said as his pal came quickly, “You guys, you guys!”
	“Some bitch on her horse just got thrown!” he said happily.
	Chris and Carl looked to one another.  “Cool.” said Chris somewhat to himself.  They dressed lightly, shoes and pants and scrambled to where Harold had spotted the “thrown girl.”

	Crystal Branson.  Carterville High sophomore.  Horsey rider.  Damn cute.  …and unconscious.  Her horse was wallowing around on the ground nearby in a frantic manner.  
	Carl looked around and warned the boys to watch out.
	“What’s wrong, dad?”
	“A snake, a rattler.”
	The boys froze and looked around cautiously.
	The sound of a rattler could be heard in the weeds and rocks.
	“Get on the rocks!” Carl said.  “Up high!” he added.
	Carl darted his eyes about but couldn’t sight in on the noisy unseen crotalus tigris (tiger snake al la rattlesnake.)  Out of his pants Carl withdrew a holster, of which he withdrew a western style Colt revolver.  (He was a rancher and out in the wilds there was always the chance of an odd encounter of one type of another.
	Suddenly Chris saw it, it was a big son-of-a-bitch, five feet and HUGE!  His dad saw it, too, and popped off a round blowing off the snake’s head.  Thereafter he strolled over to where the horse lay struggling and wriggling on the ground.
	The boys gathered themselves, they then set their eyes on the fallen girl.  Chris had the spookies, once more something from his dream was coming true.  Too spooky, just too spooky.
	Another report from the Colt ripped thru the sullen still lifeless air of the day.  The horse had broken it’s leg and had been bitten.  Carl put the poor creature out of its misery.  When he returned to the boys and the girl, the boys were already part way to undressing her; her shirt was undone, bra cups lifted up, boots off and pants being worked down.
	Carl licked his lips and watched, he stole a look around and then knelt down beside the boys, he stared at the lovely teenage orbs, soft and alluring.  He did check her noggin, just a bump, but enough to send her into la-la land.  Harold worked the girl’s jeans down to her ankles, then off.
	Pink panties, with a heavy floral print, French cut.  A nice full muffin.  
	Breast length soft light brown hair that was rich and full of life.  
	Good creamy skin, not a hardened cowgirl, but …
	Carl reached out and cupped her available breasts.  He dragged a finger up along her face.  Chris glanced to Harold, Harold smiled and sat back.  He stood and stripped off his pants, he was already topless.  His cock was already “hard” too.
	Chris stripped down and smoothed his hand over the girl’s body, patting her stomach and then her panty panel.  He had a million thoughts about her, he thought of Brandy and her sister, their mother, too.  Ms. Pepper, the C-5, and every other girl he knew and wanted.  
	He had a growing list and it filled him.  Deeply.  His cock strengthened and he pressed it against the unconscious girl’s face, tilting her head just so and pressing the bulbous tip of his schlong into her mouth.  Just like in his dream!
	Harold though impatient slowly lowered the girl’s panties.  A nice muff indeed awaited them.  His eyes glazed over, ah She was a treasure indeed. 
	Chris began pushing the girl’s head back and forth faster and faster,
	“It’d be better is she were actually sucking.” commented Carl.
	Chris popped his schlong out and tilted the girl’s head toward his dad.  Harold was muff diving.  Carl watched him, marveled at the girl’s naked chest, Harold’s muff diving, his son’s cum squirter.  He sat up and unfurled his own schlong and let his son push the girl’s head into cock sucking.

	The back land area was remote and high desert-like.  Boulders, gullies, small depressions in the landscape that were actual mini-valleys.  Steep unseen drop-offs, and very little else.  Sparse vegetation, and just lots and lots of landscape.  
	There were areas far out a few miles from the quarry site that were deemed spooky.  No Man’s Land.  Desert Butte, Horseshoe Canyon, Wandering Mesa, and a few other landmarks dotted the area, there was a canyon running in the middle with a deep forever winding river, too.  The Indians of the area declared it Uhmma-lumma Land; Land of the Dead.
	It seems that there were some curiosities to the Uhmma-lumma land, the Indians of the area had long vacated (on their own or with governmental help…)  The Indians had declared the outer land inhospitable and unfriendly.  Many strange disappearances had taken place there.  And through the years others mapping the area, foraging, hiking, mining, and just general exploring had disappeared--just simply vanished!
	There seemed to be dividing line drawn in the sand, separating the Uhmma-lumma land from the rest of the world.  From the back area of the quarry there was some 500 yards of sparse grass and low ground cover, broken boulders, some old washers, the shell of an old car, the remains of a homestead long since abandoned.
	Then, the vegetation stopped and there as no more grass, just sand.
	There were a few trees, odd shaped things that bore no leaves or even needles, just ugly twisted branches.  On the more hospitable side there were regular type trees, but they were in dire shape themselves.  Only one the other side of the quarry heading back to civilization did the trees become more in tune with being recognizable trees; poplars, pines, cedars, sycamores, birch, etc.
	When the hapless unfortunate girl began to show signs of coming around to the conscious state of being, it was too late.  Daddy Carl had finally pushed his manly cock into the girl’s cunny, there was no stopping him from then.  He liked it.  She was not a virgin, but not a slut, either.  Her cunny was nice and tight and Carl was going for it.
	When the girl, Crystal, began to roll her pretty little head, shake it and flutter her eyes, Chris and Harold quickly beset themselves upon her, wrapping a kerchief about her green eyes and then holding her hands down above her head so as Carl could get his jollies without being hit upon.
	She did scream, but a kerchief in her mouth kept her from busting eardrums.  She was rightfully frightened and scared and pissed off.  Carl outweighed her greatly and was strong, too.  He plowed into her cunny and kept it up for five minutes.
	He slapped her face a couple of times and tweaked on her nipples when she continuously got out of hand.  When he had finally at last cum his fill he straddled her chest and slapped her pretty face with his cock, and forced her gruffly to suck him.
	She wasn’t a great sucker, but she was still frightened about her ordeal.  
	Her ordeal was to get even more so.
	She was still somewhat dazed so her struggling and putting up a fight was lackluster at best.  Chris and Harold held her legs back, pinning her hands by sitting on them with their knees.  Crystal was in a terrible fit.  Carl finger probed her anus, fingered and tweaked her cum soaked pussy, then went down on her, licking clean her pussy and then her asshole.
	It took only a few moments and his cock was “ready” again.  He plunged it into the girl’s ass and she freaked.  She twisted and thrashed, but to no avail and she was well sodomized.
	Using their own clothes the boys tied her hands together.  She managed to latch onto Harold’s thigh and sink her teeth into him, having worked the gag in her mouth enough to do so.  Chris held her about the neck and she bit him on the backside.
	Carl removed his belt and lashed it against the girl’s ass.
	This did the trick, she settled down.  Her as aflame wriggled, clenched, and she bit her lip hard.  Her neck tightened up and she stared outward to the Uhmma-lumma--having lost her eye coverage, too.  
	Carl turned her lily white ass tomato red and then parted the cheeks for an anal probe.  Chris and Harold continued to hold the girl still, she was pretty much doing so already.  Carl applied his cock to her puckering asshole and pushed inward.

	Crystal thrashed a bit, but not so much as from the horror of being kidnapped and subsequently raped, but from the undeniable event of orgasming.  To the extreme.  After Carl had a go at her, she was spanked silly (again) and then her cunny, too, was spanked.  Then, while her pussy and ass were searing Chris and Harold took a turn at boning her, then Carl was ready and sank himself into her once more.
	The teen succumbed to the orgasm, then lay trying to recover.  Harold climbed onto her face, leaning down her body and placing his balls into her mouth.  “Suck my balls, bitch!” he decreed, he smacked her cummy cunt and the tormented teen automatically began ball washing.
	Chris followed up with penetrating his friend’s asshole, fucking him while he (Harold) sucked off on Carl’s cummy cock.  When Chris had creamed up Harold’s hole, Harold nestled the gooey orifice down onto Crystal’s face and Chris made her lick the hole clean.
	When the three cocks could cum no more, it was time for a long rest.
	A decision had to be made, too.  At times Crystal had seen the three men; but Carl knew, too, that her torment would cause her to be somewhat oblivious to detail and thusly unable to make a clean ID.  But still, regardless; Carl had reservations about leaving her.
	For one, she was a good fuck.
	Carefully she was lugged back to the pickup.
	“What about Suzie?” Chris wondered aloud.
	Good question.
	“She doesn’t go in the basement, right?” said Harold, “She’s afraid of it or something, right?”
	It was mulled over as they made their way back.