August Moone
Book 3
Sidetrips
Chapter 24
Veni Vidi Vici

Round Fucking Two
	Josh could hardly move, even if he wanted to.  The climatic fit of achieving such a tumultuous orgasm was draining.  Bradley sat up after the ordeal and frigged her cunny.  She was partially acting on her own as well as being “encouraged.”
	Ted, Danny, and Josh were worn out.  Totally.  They sat haphazardly about Bradley methodically as well as mindfully massaging their bones, awaiting the next “encounter.”
	Bradley frigged her cunny some, turned over and presented her ass and continued frigging, then fiddled with her asshole, too.  She then stood and went to the distraught Melody and sucked on the girl’s titties while fingering her pussy.
	Josh, Danny, and Ted were beside themselves with sexual awe.
	Ted was seriously working his crank, Danny cranking his yank, Josh floggin’ the dog.  All three were close to once more enjoying an orgasm.  Then--Ted stood and like he was a zombie-robot or something and faced the perplexed Danny.
	Danny reared his head back--but then leaned in.  he seemed not to want to, seeings as how Ted’s schlong was standing right there before him. Ted didn’t know WHAT the fuck was happening, but he wasn’t too much into it.  He tried to back away, but there was something forcing him, something holding him and keeping him locked into position.
	He continued to stroke his bone, he heard faintly in his mind ‘Suck it, suck it hard, suck it off.’
	Ted gulped.  ‘Oh shit!’
	Josh and the girls at the boulder stared and watched in utter awe as their friend Danny went down gobbling on Ted’s dick.  It was incredulous.  No one could say anything or do anything, nothing but watch as Danny slurped continuously on the cock.
	Danny worked the cock in his mouth for quite a while, several minutes anyways.  He clutched at the testicles and smoothed his hand over his friend’s ass, squeezing the cheek now and then and swallowing whole Ted’s schlong.
	Soon, the climatic pivotal moment was coming.  Ted’s ass began to flex, he began to jerk his hips, he looked beyond Danny and Josh and stared at a boulder surrounding them; he began to fire off a massive load of hot spunk into his friend’s mouth.
	He stumbled and nearly fell away as the orgasm sent him to the apex of AWE, and then quickly released him and sent him plummeting to the ground.
	It was then Danny’s turn.  In a manner of speaking.
	Ted came to his knees and dreaded what was to come.  He gulped and stared at Danny’s dong.  Danny pulled back on the organ, elongating it further.  It wasn’t a particular LONG dong, but a rather short and stubby one.  It was a cock nevertheless and it wavered before Ted’s face.
	‘Suck the head.’ came the invading voice of dread.
	Ted hesitated, but feared the punishment and leaned forward, eyes closed, touching Danny’s cock.  It was a hideous thing to do and he just couldn’t see himself following thru.  The head of Danny’s cock invaded his mouth and pumped therein for a moment, then came out and humped his face.
	‘Turn yer sorry ass around.’ came the Voice, this time a little gruff.
	Ted gulped and feared retribution was at hand.
	In a manner of speaking.
	His face came to the warm sand laying right on Bradley’s panties.  He saw Bradley still pressed against Melody, both watching him.  He felt Danny up against him, caressing his ass.  Ted tensed up.  ‘Oh God!’ he knew what was to happen.  Was that better than sucking?
	Danny’s Navajo cock came to Ted’s very virginal shitter and made a dramatic penetration.  Ted clutched at his ass, peeling the cheeks and grinding his face into Bradley’s undies.  He endured the sodomy, felt his balls swinging, felt Danny’s balls slapping against him, felt intense discomfort in the ordeal and wondered casually if it was how girls felt, too.  He almost cried, in fact, he wasn’t so sure that he hadn’t; the sheer act of being porked was a tad more than embarrassing, there was the high discomfort level to contend with, too.
	For Danny, the concept of butt fucking had always been a distant thought, he never thought he would actually do it--and if he did so engage it was most certainly not to pork a fellow fella!
	But there was the undeniable awe from his cock; Ted’s asshole was incredibly tight and the sensation seethed his already sensitive bone.  He didn’t think he could cum again as the unseen force forcing him seemed to want.  He didn’t know that if succumbing to an orgasm meant that he was gay or what.  
	He succumbed to cumming.  There was no stopping it.  His cock screamed, his balls swelled, a strange unique force of mixed pleasures teamed throughout his body and he power fucked Ted’s asshole.
	Barely could he keep himself upright, he pumped his fill, slowly slowing down as the orgasm subsided.  He pulled out and let his cock droop, he still clutched Ted’s naked ass, his eyes fluttering, mind in a blur.
	Josh knew that inasmuch as he had anticipated correctly knowing that he was going to get sucked on earlier and to fuck; he knew, too, that he was probably going to have suck some dick--as well as be humped in the ass.
	Though he was merely twelve years old, he was wise enough to realize that some strange force was in charge.  He had tried as he was sure the others had to wriggle free of the force compelling them, but each time only resulted in pain and major distress beyond comprehension.
	And Josh was correct, into his almost virgin ass came Ted’s cock and into his mouth came Danny’s.  Danny had used Bradley’s panties to clean off his soiled schlong, but still--the funky schlong was distasteful and unappealing to the young boy and he retched.
	They lay on their sides--
	‘almost virgin ass?’
	Surfacing to his young mind there came the image of Josh bent over being hammered up the ass from--form--hmmm, the form doing the butt pounding was obscured.  Josh though young was good at keeping a secret.
	Ted was first to fire off his load, burying it deep up into the young boy’s anal tract.  Danny followed soon thereafter.  Josh went from retching to gagging and sputtering.  He was not a cocksucker.
	Then, both Ted and Danny sucked on the boy’s cock and balls.
Finale
	Bradley knew what was going to happen.  The boys stood and came to her and Melody.  Melody was settling down, some, but still highly distraught, she didn’t like so much being secured to the boulder for one thing, it was terribly-terribly hot and she fretted greatly.
	Though Ted, Danny, and Josh had emptied their balls and their cocks were awfully sore and aching, they stepped up to Melody and after some suckling on her breasts, fingering her pussy, rubbing the read of their cock into her love entrance they each got hard enough to enter her fully and fuck.
	Each boy took as many as five minutes to cum.  Danny took the longest at seven minutes, Ted was done in four, actually and young Josh humped his fill in less than three minutes.
	Bradley had the task of massaging the boys once they were done.  She sucked them, their shafts, their balls and all.  She got a mouthful of jiz from Ted’s shank and Josh pulled out and was at freak mode as his young pud just couldn’t take it any longer.
	And for Melody--it wasn’t quite over for her, either.  Or for Bradley.  Or for Josh.
	
                                             *****

	His head hit the pillow.  It was cool and soft and he sank virtually to the bed.  He let out a long moan of sigh.  His feet were burning off, his back and neck WERE burned off.  His cock he didn’t think would ever be the same again.  Ever.  Mr. Thomas had been right, the Pen Flasher (updated) was a good thing, too much of a good thing.
	His mind hurt, too; all that subtle  yapping into those minds, all the force of thinking to keep everyone under control, it was too much.  If, IF, he should venture to again use the Pen Flasher to get his way sexually, it would be a one-on-one kind of deal, no more of this four or five peoples at once.
	Harold made no movement as he lay.  Chris listened to the churning of the windmill, the frogs down at the pond, the ten million crickets.  The air was lightly perfumed with a skunk’s scent, mixed in with the pig farm down the road made for a wondrous smell to smell.
	He lay still for a long long while.  It was early evening, after the debacle involving the dude ranch teens Chris and Harold scurried their way home, pausing to have a quick looksee in at the Anderson home.  The Bar-None dudes had been released and directed to a quenching creek--half a mile away.  They had been on a forced naked march there, carrying their outer clothes.
	Once at the creek under the shade of some trees and all they were “released” to deal with what had happened.  Neither Chris or Harold cared or stuck around to see how the group fared.  Maybe later they would sneak to the dude ranch and see.
	At the Anderson home:  narly business.
	Mr. Anderson was a doctor, of what degree Chris didn’t know.  But he was a doctor M.D. just the same.  He had a private office at the home and it was here the Narly Business was in full swing.  It was getting late and the boys, Chris & Harold, had to hurry-hurry to get home soon.  They were dirty and tired, shagged out and burning.  But the peekaboo was worth it.
	On the desk was Jeff’s sister, Mary.  Remember her?  Remember the family?  The Andersons, living up the lane from the Mitchell home, having Mary at sixteen with brother Jeff and little sis Kathy?  And the fateful night Jeff was perusing the nudy mags his doctor father had given him in a visual aid of some sort for sex ed? And how his sister Mary had come up and found him, and how they had perused the magazines, discussing sex and positions and she gave him a blowjob and then a fuck job?
	Remember?  Remember?
	Okay.
	Mary lay sprawled on her father’s desk, naked.  Her clothes scattered on the floor, panties dangling off an ankle.  She gripped the edge of the cherry wood desk, reeling as her father pumped furiously into her.  He still wore his shirt & tie, his slacks and underwear at his ankles.
	It was at the pivotal portion of their illicit unionship that Jeff walked in (on them.)  It didn’t disturb either father or daughter.  Jeff was a little aghast.  He gulped and got an instant boner.  His father continued pumping until he got his nut.  He continued pumping into daughter Mary until totally spent.
	“Oh Father, that was wonderful!” Mary exclaimed.
	She sat up, tweaked her nipples and then collected her clothes.  Her father sat back, resting against his chair.  He caressed his daughter’s ass as she bent over picking up her clothes.  She smiled at him, made a comment to her brother, then scurried out of the room.
	Jeff stared at his father, looked out the open private door as his naked sister scurried up the stairs to the upstairs bathroom to shower.  He blinked his eyes and looked to his father for an answer.
	“It’s, uhm, I was, uhm--sex.  Er, I was teaching her sex ed!” his father beamed as he stammered.  Jeff gave him a whimsical look and then left the room.  
	Chris and Harold slinked away, they didn’t have the energy to sneak up the lattice to spy into the bathroom to see if Jeff joined his sister or not, but it was expected that he had done so.

	His mind was still filled with the dude ranch gang, Melody had been the best fuck by far.  Barely could Chris manage to stuff her asshole, but he did.  Harold porked Bradley and then buggered Josh while Josh bobbed on Ted and Danny’s dick.
	During a rest break after the shindig with the group, Chris decided to help the Bar-None group come to grips with their ordeal, he had found that by use of the Flash Pen he could very well invade the group’s individual minds; uncover truths, answers deeply embedded and buried about their sexual deeds and misdeeds.  
	It came to him that he could somewhat manipulate their minds; he found that he could “talk” to them, make them comply with his wishes (desires).  So, in essence, he could manipulate their effected minds to downplay what had happened to them.
	He had a lot of work to do on Melody--she was really fouled up.
	But Ted and the others were much more easier to see the shindig as a mutual orgy readily agreed upon.  It was a lot of work on that, too.  It took Chris over an hour to complete.
	He was amazed at how his doings had come to be, he had been able to make it so as he and Harold were virtually “invisible” to the gang.  That was a toughie, but not too far fetched--he just made it so as basically Chris and Harold were simply not seen, they were blanked out of the group’s mind.
	All in all it had been carried off well enough, with minor residual after effects unexplained.  Chris had a major headache and could barely walk, let alone see.  Harold had to carry/support him most the way home.
	And before he knew it it was six a.m.
	Harold stirred but did little else.  Chris heard the toilet flush but didn’t know who had flushed it.  Then he heard some one cut loose, he smiled inwardly to himself, sister Suzie.
	Twice his dad had come into the room, this after twice his sister had, trying to rouse the two worthless naughty boys.  They were dead to the world.  They didn’t fully stir until nearly noon.  The urge to pee, shower, and nosh was the motivating factor.  
	No one was home, the family truck was gone so they were on their own.  They showered separately and had their own thoughts to themselves.  They ate leftovers and crashed in the living room until mid afternoon.

	The Flash Pen, a marvelous invention.  Chris wondered about it, the technology, its creator/inventor.  It was beyond his comprehension to be sure, and he DID realized that it WAS dangerous.  It could get way-way out of hand.  He had a good mind to put the thing away or return it from whence it came and be done with it.  He had had his jollies, and then some.  He felt that there was a major risk involved somewhere down the line that would spell his doom.
	Either that or he had been reading too many science-fiction books.
	After a bit of rest, more noshing, no idea where his dad and Suzie were, the boys scooted off.  Chris made a note of what chores needed attention and which ones could be easily put off without retribution.  After that he and Harold moseyed back to the Anderson house.

A View to Jerk Off To
	In the backyard of the Anderson home was an out-of-place magnolia tree, an assortment of shrubs and bushes and smaller trees, an acacia tree dominated one corner, a pine tree occupied another.  No symmetry here!
	Kathy was seen to be crying, a tad upset about something or another, looking pitifully up into the magnolia tree.  She was a cute little tyke, all of about eight years or so.  She wore a short summer dress and was highly desirable.
	Brother Jeff ambled out of the house, “What’s all the fuss, sis?”	he quipped.
	“Kitty went up the tree and-and now she cant get down!” the little sibling wailed.  
	Jeff looked up into the tree trying to sight in on the dumb cat.
	“Oh please, Jeffery, wont you go up and get her?”
	“Are you nuts?” Jeff(ery) shot back, “I aint climbin’ that thing!”
	But a wailing upset little sister prevailed and Jeff started his arduous climb.  He managed to get to the first limb before falling.  He tried again, this time using a rickety ladder.
	The kitty in question he sighted and made for it.  Naturally the kitten hissed and spit at him and scooted out further from Jeff’s rescuing reach.  “Fuckin’ cat!” he bitched.
	Kathy, 15 feet below held her hands over her face in aghast, “Ahm,” she halfway giggled, “you said a bad word!”
	Jeff paid her no mind but made a maddening jump leap reach for the kitten.  The fur ball latched onto his hand as he latched onto it.  Jeff nearly flung the critter as the sharp little claws and FANGS deftly did damage.
	He was nigh but ten feet from the ladder when the kitten went ballistic and scurried out of his grip, up his chest, his face, and shoulders and flew thru the air, hitting the end of a branch and sailing to the eave of the house.
	Jeff lost his grip on the tree and went sailing downward.
	He landed with a mighty thump on the ground, sister Kathy was in a quandary as she didn’t know who to go to--her distressed kitten or agonizing brother.  She ran to the edge side of the house and the troublesome fur ball of snow white dropped into her arms.  She then scurried back to her brother who was holding his hands between his legs.  He seemed in extreme distress and unable to speak.  He looked like a cut worm wriggling on the ground.  Kathy ran into the house.

	Donna Anderson was a good mother, not domineering nor a prude.  She wasn’t a country woman by nature but could fit in just the same.  She seemed well educated, had a good poise about herself, seemed graceful and dignified and spoke with a slight accent giving her away as a northerner, and a little east, centering around New England.
	Raven dark hair, medium build with equally medium sized hooters.
	She came racing out of the house with her youngest in tow, still holding tightly her new kitten.  Jeff lay still wriggling on the ground.  She tried pulling Jeff’s hands away from his groin, but he was holding tightly, tightening up all over.  
	With great fortitude the mother scooped her son up and carried him into the house.  Kathy followed still clutching her kitten.  
	Jeff couldn’t stand up, he tried and his mother tried to get him to do so.  But no-go.  She helped him up onto the kitchen table that was a country breakfast nook, a quickie table aside from the main dinning table in the next room.
	She tried desperately to get her son’s hands away from the “damaged” area, but though he was twelve and she was much older, he was strong.  He began to retch and she began to fret.
	She got Kathy to put down her kitten and get some ice.  She then escorted her son, mostly by carrying him, upstairs to the bathroom.  Here she managed to get her son’s shirt off and have him sit on the toilet, lids closed.  While he bent over holding his precious nuggets his mother removed his shoes.  He had various scrapes and bruises from his plummet to the earth.  Her doctor husband picked a fine time to be in the City!
	It was an ordeal, but by the time Kathy made it to the bathroom with the ice in a towel brother Jeff was naked.  His mother had him lie on the floor, legs out.  His knees kept banging together so it was sister Kathy who held on while mother dearest held the other; then, while he still wriggling like a cut worm, his mother firmly (FIRMLY) held his hands aloft and applied the ice package to his damaged packaged. 	
	It was as embarrassing as all get out, but then again, Jeff didn’t care, his balls were in the most excruciating pain ever!  Donna applied the ice pack and massaged him, caressing his stomach firstly before moving to his tender soft smoothed ass.
	Kathy sat on the toilet and watched, in glee.
	The ice seemed to be working, it numbed the damaged package anyways.  Jeff still lolled and rolled and reeled in the ordeal.  He was awash in sweat and sister Kathy got the task of washing him down with a wash rag.  Donna washed his legs.  Jeff laid out on his back on the bathroom floor, butt bare assed naked.  His hands holding his tender nuggets, his head tossing one way and that, still in dire excruciating pain.
	Kathy eyeballed her brother’s cock.  It, too, languished in some agony as the pain was in such close proximity to itself.  She swirled the cool washcloth all over Jeff’s upper torso, his face and neck and soon his belly.  She licked her lips tentatively and eyed the cock, it wasn’t much to speak of due to it’s dilemma; she had seen his naughty bits several times, no big deal.  She had seen it ‘soft’ as well as ‘hard.’  no big deal.  She had seen him butt bare assed naked and even “playing” with his thingy, his pee-pee.  No big deal.
	After much ado about washing Jeff down and time and an ice pack on his damaged testes, Jeff got hard.  He couldn’t help it, he thought of his sister, the sister that was with him, every girl he knew, being naked, and being fondled all prompted his manhood to sprout.
	He was mildly embarrassed that his MOTHER was present, but he had naughty thoughts about her, too--until she began to stroke him!  Jeff looked up, gulped, couldn’t believe it and then opened his legs.
	His mother had a light supple grip, Jeff rolled his eyes, the pain in his balls was subsiding.  He turned his head to see sister Kathy smiling at him.  She was in a dress, Jeff could see right between her legs and her white panties at the crotch.  This only made him get a little harder.
	And harder.
	And harder.
	And harder still.  His mom had a nice touch, er, grip.  She lovingly wrapped her fingers about the prong and gently tugged up and down, gently stretching out the member.  She then leaned down and pressed her lips to the throbbing organ, nuzzling it and wrapping just her lips about the shaft.
	It was beyond comprehension.
	Jeff lay wriggling, the pain in his balls was just a fleeting memory replaced by his mother’s wondrous talented mouth.  Her handiwork on his organ was pretty good, too.  She soon was totally engulfing the dong, devouring it wholly.  She sucked lightly on his swollen fuzzies, this totally sent Jeff into overload.
	His mother sat up and smiled devilishly at him.
	She casted her eyes upon her youngest, “Kathy, just look at you, you’ve got cat hair all over her new dress.”  it wasn’t really knew and the sighting of “cat hair” was hard to note, but oh well, who was to argue with a mother.
	Kathy stood up and started wiping her dress down but her mother took her and she straddled her brother’s legs who still laid out on the floor.  Lightly, methodically, he masturbated.
	His masturbation increased as the mother slipped Kathy’s dress off.  Then the panties came down.  Donna moved daughter Kathy back some and guided her down to whereas she was sitting on Jeff’s face!
	Jeff didn’t mind, he licked his sister’s young smooth cunny, his nose practically buried into her burn hole.  His mother returned to sucking his cock for a moment, then she stopped.  She stroked his organ and then stopped that, too.  She was doing something else, Jeff couldn’t see, but Kathy (and the two unseen) saw; Donna Anderson removed her clothes.
	Once fully naked the strikingly lovely young woman straddled her young son and guided his cock into her womanness.  It was not to be believed.  Kathy wriggled and giggled and massaged her mother’s motherly breasts.  Donna worked herself up and down on her son’s schlong, she caressed her young daughter’s body and then pulled off of her son’s cock and brought Kathy down, having her suck off the boy as he began to explode.
	While laying on her brother, the mother caressed the girl’s ass, spanked it lightly, parted the cheeks and diddled her asshole, encouraging her son to lick it.
	Kathy made retching and gagging sounds as Jeff spurted into her mouth, his cock wasn’t dying down and Donna quickly reshuffled her cunny; Kathy came to begin sucking on her mother’s breasts while she was having her diddle hole tongued out.
	It was quite an ordeal:  Jeff tonguing out his sister poop chute, clenching her ass and loving on her cunny while she herself bobbed on his knob and/or suckled on her mother’s breasts.  The mother rode Jeff’s cock having it finally spurt its load inside her.
	She herself quenched his cock with her love essence.  She shuddered when she did so, she grabbed her ass and held it tightly trying to finger fuck herself.  She saw the toilet plunger nearby and grabbed and began trying to stuff it up her ass.  Her son’s pre-teen cock still fucking insider her.
	Enter the doctor, the daddy, the hubby.
	To say the least he was not overly prepared for what he saw, but he was cool with it non-the-less.  He smiled, after staring in awe.  
	“Well don’t just stand there and stare, dear--bugger me!” spat the woman.  Kathy sat up squashing herself on her brother’s face.  He was beyond belief, sexually speaking.
	The mister of the house removed his clothes and happily obliged his dear wife, though he seemed a mild concerned about his very young daughter’s presence.  He took note of the ice pack but made no inquiries.  He replaced the toilet plunger with his own plunger, but not before tantalizing his naughty-naughty wife with the in and out insertion of said toilet plunger.

	A massive load of man spunk filled Donna Anderson’s asshole.  She still had her son’s cock in her pussy, too.  She grinded against her son, wriggling as her husband power fucked her asshole.  He finally pulled free and languished behind her a bit, then stood on nimble weak legs.
	He washed his funky schlong in the sink, then stooped down and inserted his son’s cock into the hole he had just gooied up.  Donna squeezed her fresh fucked asshole tight around her son’s schlong and worked herself up and down.  
	Kathy left Jeff’s face, finally! And ran to her father for a nice hug.  He hugged her, scooped her up in his arms and played with her “nipples.”  after a big kiss he sat her down on the toilet.  Kathy seemed curiously interested with her daddy’s dangling dong.  She washed it, cupped his hairy balls, worked his cock in a masturbatory manner, then with strong encouragement and coercion from her mother and some from her father, she sucked.

	Enter Mary.
	In a manner of speaking.  The two unseen spies enjoyed the “show” in the bathroom, Jeff at length had turned sister Kathy about and got her to rub on his cock with her pussy, before pushing it into her.  She lay down on him and humped while father Dr. Anderson buggered his wife.  Then, while on all fours she took the toilet plunger and plunged Kathy’s asshole!
	Chris and Harold slipped away and down the stairs, it was unbelievable what was happening there, though invisible to the family’s sight, they could be well enough heard and they didn’t want to disturb the intricate mannerisms of said family.
	Waltzing into the living room came Mary. Pippery, peppery, happy-go-lucky and all that.  Way too cheery.  Chris Flashed her quick.  She stumbled, shook her head and looked around, her dark eyes focused on the naked Chris and Harold, mouth opened wide--then Chris Flashed her again.
	Despite her father’s massive prong slamming her cunny, she was still a good fuck, still tight.  The boys stripped her down and made the most of what time they had.  Her asshole, Chris discovered, was equally giving and he took pleasure slamming it as friend Harold slammed the girl’s pussy.
	Her supple breasts were a delight to hold, behold, and hold--in one’s mouth.  So pent up from the earlier scene from upstairs the boys pounded Mary’s teenage body relentlessly until they were utterly exhausted.  Chris fired off several rounds of orgasmic bliss, clutching the soft supple skin of the girl’s hips; his cock buried to the hilt, stretched out to the absolute max and jutting his man cream into her deep dark anal recesses.
	Afterward, the boys gave her a golden shower then left.
The DreamMare
	“You think the Pen is acting up?”
	Chris shrugged, “Fuck if I know!” he was a little concerned that he had to give Mary Anderson a double flash, as he had with a couple of others in the recent events regarding the dude ranch bunch.  It was cause for being concerned that he would either have to return it to Mr. Thomas or lay off of it.  He was reminded that Mr. Thomas had told him that some people just weren’t susceptible to the Pen’s abilities.
	That didn’t sit well with Chris.  It came to him that another defensive measure was needed.
	“Like what?” Harold asked.
	Chris shrugged again, “Fuck if I know!”

	They crossed Rte. 2 out of Carterville on their way home from the Anderson place, the sun was sinking low but it was still hot out, heat waves were seen wavering on the pavement.  Not a breeze stirred, the air was hot and sullen, rivers of sweat drizzled down their well tanned bodies.  They went shirtless, but wore their cut-off jeans.
	Parson’s Meadow was on one side of the lane, open unnamed land on the other.  Trees of this and that dotted each side, waist high dry grass stood still stretching up to the golden orb hanging loosely in the clear sky above.  Only the whine of some hidden insect made the only interruption in the otherwise dismal peace.
	Harold paused in their walk, looking up and down the long lonesome mostly straight highway-lane, and pulled down his britches.  He basted himself in the summer sun, rubbing his ass, bending over and spreading his cheeks.
	“What the fuck you doin’?” bitched Chris.  He wanted to get home and out of the heat, get something to drink and chill out.
	“Giving the sun a BA!” Harold yapped back.  Chris shook his head, “Dumb ass.” he smacked his friend’s ass, he would have humped him and not give a damn about it being right out in the open but it was too hot and his cock just wasn’t in it.
	“Race ya!” Chris chirped as he gleefully sped away.  Harold pulled up his shorts and made a quickening maddening dash to catch up with his friend.
	Chris cut across the open field, sending up spores of wild spores, flipping his friend in hot pursuit off, laughing, “Fast as fast can be, you’ll never catch me!”
	He darted right, feigned left, leaped over a log, tumbled down a small depression and came to a small creek.  It was at least in the shade of some misplaced eucalyptus trees.  Their long strands of gray moss hanging loosely in the warm air of the day.  
	Chris shucked his cut-offs and stepped into the ankle deep water.  It wasn’t much but it was something.  Harold came panting up behind, “Motherfucker!” he bitched.  Off came his shorts, too, and he sat bare assed in the creek, splashing water onto his nuts.
	Chris laid down in the creek, the water was absolutely refreshing.
	“Hey asshole,” chirped Harold, “yer taking up the fucking water.”		“Bite me!”
	Harold splashed him and then crawled on top of him.
	Chris wrapped his cooled arms about his friend and there they did make blissful love.  Nothing involving the ole cock, just simple grinding, humping, and kissing.  Harold did at length sit up and scoot forward, placing his enticed member into his friend’s mouth.
	Chris gobbled it hungrily.
	Harold’s cum factory was on strike, he would have to cum back later.
	Chris nuzzled Harold’s nuggets, Harold leaned back, lifting his legs and Chris began an anal job.  He soon found the perfect creek rock and stuffed Harold’s hole with that!
	Harold freaked out and tired to “poop” the rock out.   Crazily the boys frolicked in the stream before tiring and desiring more to drink than water.
	They rested and had thoughts to their own for some time.  The sun was dipping below the tallest trees.  “We gotta git.” said Chris.  He felt that they were riding on thin ice with his dad as it was, soon enough the old man was gonna belt them again, although that in itself wasn’t so bad.

	They followed the creek back along the way into the direction of their home.  They came to a lone dirt road unkempt and unused.  Harold looked left and right.  The creek went under the road via a culvert.  The area was all overgrown with bushes, shrubs, derelict trees and the like.
	“Where’s this road go?” Harold asked.  
	Chris shrugged, “The Munster Place.” he said lowly.
	“Munster Place?  Never heard of it.”
	Chris made a move to cross the broken road and keep going.
	“Anyone live there?” Harold persisted.
	“Nah, not anymore.”
	“Anymore?  What up with that?  You know?  Give!”
	                                        *****

	The Munster Place.  A three story colonial abode, with grisly shingles mixed mashed with grayish marble stone columns.  The grounds, at one time, were immaculate and expansive.  An odd scalloped wrought iron fence surrounded the property, odd trees decorated the place, too.
	It was home to a family of five.  A set of parents, a grandparent, two children, though one was an adult herself.  Quite a family, and operating a family “business.”  
	“What kind of business”. Harold asked.
	“A crematorium.”
	“A what?”
	“A funeral place, they brought people in and did stuff to them.”
	“What stuff?”
	“You know, stuff.”
	The boys stood staring down the narrow dirt lane, chokeberry bushes lined the lone decrepit road.  
	“A funeral place, whatever they do to bodies at a funeral place before burying them.” Chris feebly amended.
	“Something happen there?” Harold asked already sensing that something did.
	“Kinda.”
	“Like what?”
	Chris shifted his weight, he supposed that ever town, city, burg, village had one mysterious creepy family.  Cartersville had the Munsters.
	The Munster family had Arthur and Edwinna as the parents.  Edwinna had her aged father with her, then her oldest daughter Portia and young son Edward.
	The Munsters had lived in the county community several generations, immigrants from somewhere else for certain, the father was a tall-tall creepy man; he was huge in girth with a gruesome appearance.  He also had a horrible stench about him, but that was attested to the fact of the chemicals he worked with while working with the “bodies.”
	His wife was even creepier.  She was shorter in height, but had super long hair with curious white streaks in it.  A long narrow jaw line, long flowing attire, and was quick in her step to the point of it seemed as if though she were actually “floating.”
	Her oldest child, Portia, was the only one of the family who appeared “normal.”  She was pretty for one thing, spoke well, was demure, intelligent, kinda naïve.  She had attended the local high school, the last year, before moving on to the college in the nearby city.
	The youngest was Theodore, or “Teddy/Theo.”  a very strange child, he apparently had some sort of disease whereas he had an abundance of body hair.  He also was never seen without a “werewolf” doll tucked under his arm.
	And lastly, the senior member of the family, the grandpa.
	Apparently the grandpa and the mister of the family were something like morticians.  Bizarre old dudes who would be better fit on the big silver screen from the glory days of bizarre and twisted horror movies.
	They were a very creepy family.
	“Soooooo, what happened?”
	Chris shuffled his feet, he really wanted to go on home.
	“Well,” he drawled, 
	It seems that Arthur Munster nutted up and was “increasing” his business.
	“Whattya mean by that?”
	“Well,” Chris gulped, he was glad that he wasn’t around when Mr. Munster “nutted up.”
	Arthur Munster increased his “business” by acquiring bodies for his morgue, before they were actually “ready.”  hint-hint-hint
	The Grandpa--the Grandpa--uhm, well, let’s just say he had special techniques in “examining” the bodies brought into the mortuary.  He took a special interest in the females and young stuff.  (get my drift?)
	As for Portia and Theodore?  They helped the family along with their own perks; Portia brought in young male suitors warm for her form and Theo did likewise to young girls and boys his age.
	How they were caught (by the local & federal authorities) wasn’t known, it was believed that one of the potential “cadavers” had managed a daring escape (and spilled his/her guts) so to speak.  
	Since then the grisly details of massive terror that went on within the Munster dwelling increased in size.  
	“You ever been inside the place?” Harold asked in hope.	
	“Fuck no!” almost shouted Chris.  “No fucking way!”
	Harold seemed disappointed, nothing like this ever happened on HIS side of town.  “Was there blood on the walls?” he asked, along with wanting to know if there were pictures, like in the newspaper or something.  Was there entrails (guts) all over, heads, arms, private parts????
	Chris shook his head and shrugged his shoulders, he had no idea and didn’t want to know.  Harold licked his lips and looked longingly down the dirt road.  HE wanted to know and slowly began making his way along.
	“Dude, it’s gonna get dark around her soon, we gotta scat.”
	Harold paid him no mind and continued walking on, albeit slowly, careening his neck around the bend and twist in the road.  Chris held his ground, the rumors and grisly details filled his head, what the authorities discovered and found in Munster Manor was beyond belief.
	Harold made the first turn and disappeared.
	A hoot owl sounded off, something in the tall weeds alongside the road rustled, then a sudden silence fell sullen on the area.
	“Hey!  Hey-hey, wait the fuck up!” Chris yelled and chased after his bud.

	“So what happened to the family, they all get arrested and stuff?”
	“Naw, not really.”  Chris said, “they must have been tipped off or something.” the Munster family instead of facing prosecution became subjects for their own mortuary.  Self-explanatory.  
	But that was one rumor.
	There were others.
	Plenty of others.
	The one that creeped Chris Mitchell out was the one of having Theodore escaping the mortuary infliction decreed by his family and still haunted the place, or the woods, or both.  Some rumors had it that Portia escaped and was seen in the form of a giant bird that protected the family home and kept a curse on it.
	“Cool!” said Harold.
	“You’re warped!”
	The road they traveled became more and more narrower, a strange pungent odor hung lifeless in the air, there were no sounds.   Creepy is as creepy does.  Tufts and fluffs of cattail fluff drifted aimlessly on the still air, a strange lingering smell enveloped the two as the rounded the next turn.  Chris noted Harold’s pace had slowed.
	The shrill of some unseen bird frightened the bejesus out of the both of them, they clung to one another and Chris was all for hooking & booking.  But Harold’s undying curiosity pulled them further on.
	The heavy down growth of the cypress and misplaced eucalyptus trees narrowed not only the road but the visibility of what lay ahead, the boys struggled and fought their way thru the tangling webs of sticky fluff from the trees and then--
	…there it was, grisly manor--er, Munster Manor.
	The grounds were unkempt and thrashed, overgrown with weeds and shrubs.  Part of the wrought iron fence surrounding the property had fallen, along with several of the huge cypress trees.  The manor itself took up the most space, for the eyes anyways.  In its heyday it may have looked--no, even then it was creepy to look at--knowing what went on within.
	Green and gray moss clung to the building, mold had taken over, too.  Vines mostly concealed the crematorium, shrubs of this and bushes of that over decorated the entire place.  
	“What’s that smell?” Harold asked.
	Chris didn’t know, it was a lingering smell that he couldn’t think of.
	Then he did, he was repulsed and began to sweat.  He halted he steps.
	“What up, dude?”
	In his young mind, a pig being slaughtered came to be, this after the animal had been blasted in the head by a rifle shot, then he was butchered.  The smell of the pigs innards had filled the morning’s air; the two men butchering the beast were used to it, even his dad.  But Chris, he had been nigh but nine or so in age and the scene and the smell lingered with him for a long-long while.
	That same smell drifted lifelessly in the air about Munster Manor.
	“That must be where they burned the bodies.” stated Harold.
	Chris stared at the odd shaped building, then the long tall stack rising up from it.  There was the hearse, a long black boxy car from the 50s, all the tires were flat with one rotting off the wheel.  The windows were all still intact, the front windshield and the two door windows were heavily laden with so much dust and grime that it was impossible to see inside.
	Not that young Chris wanted to.  (Harold did, though.)
	From the hearse they saw the sloping cement drive that led to the basement area where--where--where stuff went on.  The body preparation room.  Harold ventured a step towards, Chris was in no fucking way going.  No way.
	Until, that is, he stepped back and knew that the hearse car was there, but something touched the nape of his neck, slipping around his neck and down his chest.
	Chris bolted and rushed passed his friend.  His fright enticed Harold to follow suit, though he didn’t know why.

	There were two huge iron gray doors to the mortuary, but a wooden side door.  Brute force that was enriched ten-fold dynamically due to the running run busted said door open.
	Inside the smell, the stench of decaying bodies, embalming fluids overwhelmed the two and Chris passed out.

	His eyes stung, the stench of whatever bore into his nostrils, driving into his brain.  The stench even soiled the back of his throat.  Somewhere close there was an incredible deafening sound he could not fathom.  A rumbling?  A grumbling?  
	To was also hot.  Damn hot.  Searing hot.
	Chris tried to open his eyes but couldn’t, sweat filled his eyes and stung them; it was then that he found that his hands were bound.  That wasn’t good.  That wasn’t good at all.
	He twisted and tried rolling his body.
	Nope, couldn’t do that, either.
	Panic began to set in.  Chris shut his eyes tight and opened them, fussed one way and the other and found that his head and yea his body was mostly restricted due to the confines of being in a box--of some sort.
	It was getting hard to breath, the noise level was increasing along with the increase in temperature.  He couldn’t call out, he tried, the screams he would unleash were stuck in his parched throat.  In a dire panic for his life he began bashing his head against the box-lid, thrashing his body side to side and continuous head bashing to the wooden box.
	Suddenly there was some success and the lid came free.
	A massive swath of heat swept over him, nearly choking him to death.  Before him loomed an open iron door where within were flickering flames.  Chris frantically freaked out and fell off of the conveyer belt.  He lay still thrashing about on the floor like a fish on a shoreline.  He tried to breath mostly, tried to make sense of how he had come to be in the box of death and where the fuck was Harold?
	Looking up he saw said friend Harold, naked, bent over a small coffin with a huge towering monster of a man with green skin sodomizing him!  At a counter was a strangely dressed man, with his penis out that resembled the penis of a horse!  He was giggling, laughing, and apparently mixing some strange concoction from the assortment of mad scientist’s vials and beakers.
	There was a floating head of some misshapen girl darting around screaming, her hair was in splotches and she was a sickly yellow in skin, missing some teeth and one eye.  Chris shuddered, retched and noted that the walls were all “breathing” and seeping blood.
	The floor was a spongy-like surface like sea anemones.  
	Along the far wall there were sex parts, male sex parts--penis and testicles tacked side by side row by row.  Heads were tacked to another wall.  On the floor was a young girl in her teens, naked.  She was spread out with railroad spikes driven into her hands and thru the top of her feet and one in thru her pussy.
	A headless body hung from its ankles, arms and legs were seen sticking up out of a huge cast iron pot with a huge fire underneath it.  The room began to spin, Chris retched and then threw up.  The old man laughed out more and more and began coming towards Chris, masturbating his huge horse cock and carrying a vial of some sickly green ooze.
	The huge towering monster putting it Harold thrusted and his cock popped out of Harold’s mouth.  Harold choked and his arms and legs went flailing all about.  The monster gurgled in laughter, ripping Harold’s cheeks apart and continuing to pump wildly.
	Chris began scooting backwards, Harold was dead.
	Pure fright egged Chris, powered him into a new hope for life.
	He scooted backwards with the aged man in a strange dark vampire-attire suit pursued him, still laughing, still masturbating.  His massive horse cock four feet long and hard, cum already ejaculating from it.  All along the walls, the ceiling, the floor headless bodies clapped at his passing, there were dozens of floating heads cheering.
	Chris backed into something, he hoped was a door.
	“Where are you going, deary,” said a feminine voice, “you can’t leave yet, Grandpa’s not done with you.”
	“You’ve got to be circumcised!” jeered the Grandpa.  He came up to Chris and barred vampire-like fangs.  A strong gleam came to his eyes, he began saying something but Chris couldn’t hear, his eyes focused on the man’s eyes and the medallion he wore.
	Behind Chris the man’s adult daughter held his shoulders, her breath came hotly to his neck and as the Grandpa’s massive funky horse cock filled his mouth, the woman bit into his neck.  The woman’s hands masturbated his cock, cupping and squeezing his balls.  The Grandpa cheered and leaned down, sinking his vampire fangs into Chris’ uncircumcised shank.

	“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
	He sat bolt upright.
	Holy fucking apes hit, Batman, what did you step in!?
	A swath of sweat drenched him.  His mind was in temporary freak out.  He couldn’t breath.  He couldn’t see.  He couldn’t hear.  He felt his heart pounding in his chest.  Sweat pooled in his eyes, he felt moss spores choking him.
	“Dude, go back to sleep or go sleep in the barn!” a voice bitched at him.  
	Chris gulped and looked to one side.  Someone farted.  Slowly his mind began to calm down.  His ankles hurt.  No, ached, just ached.  His BALLS hurt.  The whine of a gnat came into his ear.  He heard the grinding groan of the windmill.  The stench of the pig farm filled his nose.
	“Son-of-a-sweet-fucking-bitch!” he mouthed.
	He swung his legs over the edge of the bed.  “Fuck.” he said hanging his head.  He let out his breath and popped his neck.  The scene of Munster Manor filled him, the hanging moss of gray, the silence--the dead silence.  Until that shrill sent the two of them screaming thru the thicket of reeds and moss.
	At Pucker’s Pond they stopped, a good mile from the Munster place.
	“Fuck, dude, it was a bird.” Harold bitched.
	“You wanna go back?” Chris bitched back.
	Harold looked back, shook his head, “Some other time.”
	The two cooled their heels (literally) in the pond and then scurried on home.

	Chris sat on the back porch listening to the night fill the air.  A gentle cool breeze mopped his brow, lightly he toyed with his cock.  Munster Manor filled his mind, it was the stuff of movies and tv, not in real life.  Not in real life.