August Moone
Timing is Everything
Chapter 18
Tragedies & Song

	A greenish fog swirled listlessly about; only intermittently was there any hint of “sensation.”  Nothing could be seen beyond the veil of green fog, nothing to be heard, felt, or sensed.  
	Even breathing was not a good thing, his ribs hurt.  His head hurt too much to take any further notice or care.  Then of course, there was the “every fiber of his being” that ran the gambit of varying pains, aches, and so on.
	There was nothing to do but lay still--very-very still.  He breathed only when necessary, blinked his eyes even less than that.  No images came to him, his mind was blank.  He was only as is and in lots of pain.
	Time was meaningless where he was, focusing on the swirling green mist only caused him to be sleepy, but when closing his eyes he became somewhat nauseous so he focused on the swirling mist and dealt with it.
	Time was meaningless.  Meaningless.  The swirling fog merely swirled endlessly with no particularly pattern.  The sensations that DID come were painful ones.  There were brief periods of painful memories, disturbing things he could not rationalize; where they images of his past?  He didn’t have enough information, only pain.  Pain and discomfort and bouts of nausea.
	At length the fog seemed to begin to dissipate.  That was a good thing.  There, too, were other sensations filling his body, painful tinglings, but sensations just the same.  Breathing was getting better, his thoughts were still muddled and he couldn’t see any clearer than he had, but he felt that things were getting better.
	He still had no clue as to who he was, where, what happened, or why he was in so much pain and discomfort.  Those things would take TIME to come to him.  He found that he could sleep now and then with being so nauseated.  That helped in his recovery.
	But sleep wasn’t all bliss, he was wracked with nightmares, strange things he could not ascertain one way or the other, they seemed to be flashbacks of some sort; places, people, creatures.  There was naught to do but wait it out.
	So wait he did.  It was painful, but the pains slowly subsided.  His memory slowly filled his mind and he recalled vaguely who he was.  There were gaps still plaguing him but he felt those voids in his past would come flooding back, there was now the now to deal with.
	When the fog mist cleared--there wasn’t much of a change, out beyond just a ways was a pitch darkness that was like a veil or a shroud of some sort.  No stars, no nothing.  The ground beneath his feet was a mix of black sand with bits of green flecks.  Green brackish looking (but not offensive smelling) lapped onto the shore.  He was on a beach, or some sort.
	Numbly he walked along, noting that trying to reach the inky blackness was like trying to reach the end of the rainbow.  It wasn’t going to happen.  To his left there was something of a tropical jungle, but curiously all the shrubs, bushes, palms and rocks were green, differing shades of green, criss cut lines with mathematical equations etched on them.
	The first boulder he came to had substance, he felt real enough. Leaning against it he rested peering into the very thick jungle beyond.  Behind him was nothing but blackness and a calm green sea lapping lightly against the shore, a green mystical fog hanging lightly a hundred yards or so away.
	Holding his breath and somewhat why he was naked (and why his asshole hurt so much) he moved into the interior of the jungle.  Though he moved palm fronds and branches, crawled over logs and boulders, stepped into a stream of green water, he heard no sounds.
	Slapping his face, his butt, pinching his nipple he felt pain but heard no sound.  He didn’t know what to make of it.  He was August Moone, he hailed from Flagstaff, Arizona, drove a wrecking truck for some putz named Mr. Peter’s…
	No, no--no that wasn’t quite right.
	He WAS August Moone all right, and he DID hail from Flagstaff, Arizona, but he hadn’t worked for Mr. Peter’s in years!  He had a ’51 Ford Panel truck as his ride, a ride he used to--to sway young unsuspecting teenage girls into to have his fun with.  He was a little fuzzy on the details on how he got away with such a thing; but, he had memories of such things occurring regardless.
	Presently he came to a great pond, a waterfall was here, not very big, but splashing noiselessly into the pond just the same.  Beyond the edge of the trees surrounding the pond area--only an inky blackness existed.  It was creepy and August had to take a breather.
	The water, though green, was like any other pond of water.  ’cept it was without sensation, no feeling of wetness.  He settled down with legs in the water, laying back more memories he couldn’t make much sense came to him, they seemed so real he didn’t know quite what to make of them.
	Not until Charlie’s face, the canyons, the Indians, the pirate ship, and the room where he had come across the laptop computers came filtering into his noggin.  Then it was brain overload, memory overload.  
					*****

	Robert.  Robert--Robert somebody he seemed to be close to.  A friend, a goofy friend who had a family.  His wife was something of a dimwit, not all there upstairs, but worked at Wal-Mart regardless.  Robert was an ex-navy man who now worked as--as a technician for a blueprint company.  They had a girl, a daughter who was a young teen.
	After having the Device Item 0110 in his possession for some time, finally unlocking some of its hidden secrets August Moone of Flagstaff, Arizona finally began “testing” the Device to see what it could do.  This only led to discovering totally narly things that went way beyond the scope of his imagination, fantasies, and dreams.
	It took a while, a long while, before he settled down and became cool; this after “acquiring” $$ from a couple of local banking institutions.  He realized that lo he could be something of the world’s greatest secret agent, Mind Controlling his opponents, or anyone he felt like.
	He knew the serious applications such a device could do, or what it could be used for.  But for his simplicity--mind controlling others for his SEXUAL pleasures was a good start.
	At one poin the came to Robert.  This after much ado about “testing” the Device Item 0110 and such.  Robert was a so-so good friend, they had one shared component between them and that was--perversions.  Robert was seriously into Child Porn and serious X-rated stuff on the computer.  August knew first hand that Robert had a serious desire to shag his daughter, August had known Robert since the daughter, Angela, was nigh but six years young.  
	Angela liked streaking at that age, and using the bathroom without closing the door.  August had made astute observations that Robert had wood during those times.  Casually he confided in August that he and wife Mary liked to fuck and allow Angela to watch.  Mary, though, was not a perv, just a dimwit.
	And only on occasion did she allow Rob to doink her up the butt, she very-very seldom less than that suck him.  She didn’t mind being sucked, though and sometimes even let him spank her.  They fucked in the shower, in the bath, and in every room of their small abode--50% of the time with their only child watching.
	Angela, thankfully, was not a dimwit, she was red headed, smart, pretty, and as she grew older got a “mouth” on her.  Robert held back not his words and the two often got into heated obscenity slurs to one another--making the mother blush and scold the two.
	Robert taught his growing daughter how to “protect” herself from over zealous amorous boys, as well as pushy uppity bossy bully-like girls.  She became a rough tomboy by age 12.
	At one incidence August was over for a barbecue and a looksee at the narly pix Rob had on his computer.  August had had possession of the Governmental Issue Device Item 0110 some 5 years or so and had only tapped a small portion of its abilities.  He had fattened his wallet, gotten a nice ride, and had manipulated about a dozen or so Subjects.
	His relationship with Robert was so-so, he wasn’t held in regard as a “best friend” status, but held the same “interests” so that was a plus.  He liked Robert, he liked Mary, and he especially liked Angela.
	And so it came to pass after the barbecue and mother & daughter were doing something together elsewhere in the house, that Robert and August were scamming pix on the computer and the Net.  August mulled letting Robert in on the deal, the Device Item.  
	Lightly August merely mentioned that the Device was as is, an electronic component that tapped brain waves and then manipulated them.  August didn’t tell him HOW he had come to have such a wondrous item, that part wasn’t necessary.  Robert was interested and a little disbelieving.
	So truth was in the cards.
	“Mary!  Angela!” he called them.  August hoped, he had noted that the Device was sometimes unreliable in that it failed to carry thru the desired effect or simply “shut-down” without notice for no reason given.
	Mary and Angela came to the small cluttered computer room; Mary was a tall woman, almost a head taller than her dorky geeky husband.  She had flaming red hair just to the shoulders and seriously curled.  She was ultra skinny but had 32 Bs.  A skinny long jaw line with high cheek bones.  She didn’t operate a car and had some sort of medical problem August couldn’t remember what it was.
	Angela at 13 had twice the size of titties that any other normal girl her age had.  Long silky red hair, freckles aplenty, big tits but not outrageous.  Her hips were kinda wide, but her butt was nice and she wore (on this occasion) green tinted jeans that were skin tight.
	August fiddled with the contraption on the sly while Robert yapped to the girls about nonsensical things.  Moments later the two Subjects were standing absolutely still, August smiled and showed Robert the Device LCD screen where the brain wave patterns were “captured.”
	“Got ‘em!” he beamed.  “Now,” he added, “we can do with them as we want, anything at all.” he further explained that he could make them do things, anything, ANYTHING, and thereafter neither one would remember it.
	Robert though wanted desperately wanted to believe this, doubted it.  But was partially all for seeing if it would happen.
	“Uhm, Take Off Your Shirts.” August said, though at this time he did not need to utter the words, he did it for Robert’s benefit.  August merely directed the cursor on the Device panel to the appropriate command and “sent”.
	To Robert’s shocked disbelief Angela removed her green ribbed sleeveless cotton top.  Mary removed her red short sleeved top.  Robert stared wide eyed, mouth open, leaning forward in total awe.
	“Shall I go on?” August asked of his friend.
	Robert didn’t answer verbally but nodded, “Yes, oh hell yes!”
	“Remove your bras.”

	“Remove shoes and pants.” came nextly the command, Robert couldn’t believe his eyes.  August continued “sending” commands and the Subject unawares followed thru.  It was glorious, GLORIOUS!  And soon the two stood merely clad in their panties.
	Rob had wood.  As did August.  Rob gouged his organ and August saw no reason to be bashful, he leaned back and fished out his aching schlong and blatantly began masturbating.  Robert followed quickly and waggled his schlong before his wife and daughter--no reaction from either one of them.
	“I can make them do more--lots more.” August said.
	Robert nodded, he was ready.
	The Subjects slid their panties off and Robert’s cock began to cum.  (And Robert had a COCK, it wasn’t so much as being LONG, like August’s, as it was THICK.)  he pounded it, squeezed, and ogled his now nude wife and daughter.  “And I can make them do ANYTHING!” August chided.
	August could see Robert’s mind furiously trying to think this through; “You want one of them to give you a blow?” August casually mentioned.  Robert’s eyes were wide and he couldn’t think straight.  
	“Angela, come forward, on your knees.” August commanded, and to Robert’s shock she did.  Stepping forward, eyes opened wide, staring straight and not ashamed of being naked before her father OR even August.
	Robert seriously stared in awe as the commands continued and Angela “gripped” her father’s cock and began masturbating it, squeezing his balls and then--the finale, sucking it.
	Robert began spewing spunk almost as soon as sweet Angela’s mouth engulfed the whole of his schlong.  He ran his hands through her silky red hair and stared at his naked wife standing directly behind Angela.  August took his liberties and had Mary come service him.  Robert didn’t mind at all.

	After filling his daughter’s mouth Angela was laid out on the burgundy carpet with her legs held back.  Robert went down on her nappy red muff and noshed his pleasure.  She was a virgin--but THAT wasn’t going to last for long.  His tongued worked tenaciously on the girl’s poon, August watched with pride (as Mary sucked away at him.)
	Soon Robert was snaking his way up his daughter’s body, sucking on her bodacious ta-tas and fingering her pussy.  Soon his extreme schlong came up and nestled against her, he seemed to have no qualms about the deed he was about to do.  He only glanced up as Mary settled down onto August’s lap, taking his cock up into her pussy.  He didn’t seem to mind and he slipped his own schlong into Angela’s virgin pussy.
	Despite Robert’s tails of Mary’s somewhat frigidness, her pussy was kinda not so tight.  But then again, August recalled that Rob’s dong was kinda not so thin--it was THICK.  To get off successfully he clutched Mary’s ass and watched Robert “break” his daughter in.
	For long moments there was nothing but the sound of testicles slapping skin, scrunching up and some groans.  August brought up to his mind those Subjects he had snagged earlier on; the young ones, the young mothers, school kids, etc.  It helped, he shoot a nice healthy wad deep into Mary’s twat, pulled out and stabbed his way up into her mostly tight (tighter) backdoor.  He strained and shoved his schlong in to the base and held it there while he jutted.
	Robert humped until he couldn’t hump no more, then he strained, gyrated, bucked and began twitching as he shot a massive wad of fatherly spunk into Angela’s cunny deep.  It was only the beginning.  After pulling out and using Angela’s panties to clean her broken hymen and his beef stick, he brought her legs back and began fingering her asshole.  He tongued it, fingered it, and then stuffed it with his cock.
	August put Mary into a 69er and doinked her backed door (again) but showing Robert how the Manipulator held the Subject’s mind(s) by nipping the Pain Receptors--August began spanking Mary’s ass, her hips, her cheeks as hard as he could.  Mary barely protested.
	Then, while August and Robert sat on the floor recovering from their epic shenanigans, Mary and Angela 69ed one another.  Robert was convinced, he knew both would NEVER go for doing such a thing.  August doinked Angela before leaving, showered with her and watched as once more her father fucked her pussy AND asshole.
	August gave Robert the ability to use Mind Control on his family, a Word, a Word spoken to Mary and Angela that would in essence turn them into sluts, make them obey his commands for sexual pleasuring.
	August went away for awhile, venturing and exploring his life, the limits of the Device.  When he returned and looked up ole Rob, he wasn’t there and couldn’t be located--he never found out what happened!  (aint that a bitch!?~!)

					****

	There were still some “gaps”, but for the most part he remembered.  He sighed and let the memories be, firstly just swarming aimlessly hither and tither, taking some time to coalesce and become situated.  This, too, would take some time.  But then, here in this “transition” place he had nothing BUT time.
	The Indians.  The Indians of the Purple Schlong were most prevalent in his mind, how many had had a go at his bottom he didn’t know, but plenty he was sure of that.  He had kicked and screamed at the first dozen, but then simply relented.  They burned his ass, squeezed his cock and balls mercilessly and shoved their meaty peckers into his mouth AFTER being up his ass!
	What happened thereafter he was very fuzzy on, he had no idea whatsoever.  Not that it mattered, not really.  But he fumed, and wondered if what he had seen in the clearing had been the way home, or was it something else entirely?
	He hated questions with no answers, it was infuriating.  He sat on the shore with legs in the water, staring at the waterfall.  Had he been there before, he wasn’t sure, but it seemed like he had.  He cracked his neck, mulled, tried to think clearly and then began moving towards the falls.
	Drinking in some of the green water gave him nothing, there was no sensation like “water”, no substance, nothing.  He couldn’t figure it and didn’t want to.  He found a cave behind the waterfall as he assumed that there was.  He HAD been here before, the cave was extremely familiar to him.
	After wandering just a bit he heard sounds of water rushing, crashing, or something.  He sighed relief, that was something--to be able to hear again.  Into a great room he came, he tensed up as he seriously realized that indeed he had been in the very cave once before, or was it twice, thrice?
	The crashing turbulent he had heard was from a great fountain center of the cavern floor.  The cave was huge and illuminated by glowing crystals jutting from and running along like veins in the surrounding walls and ceilings.
	August tried to recall, what had he done before?
	He didn’t know.  He blew out his breath and stared at the fountain, it was intriguing, and it WASN’T GREEN!  It was clear regular like water.  That was a plus.  He mulled, considered, thought, re-thought, scratched his naked balls and leaned over the rocky structure surrounding the water.  He could “smell” the water, see it, sense its wondrous offering.  
	Sensing that he himself had a “thirst” he leaned in and scooped up a handful of water.
	It was all he knew for a spell….

	Song & Sorrow

	Well, at least it wasn’t sand.  It was still a little uncomfortable and HOT, but there was no sand beneath his nude body, just grass--more specifically moss-like grass.  He saw small twigs, fall-like leaves; heard the sounds of squirrels/chipmunks and birds.  A cool breeze wafted about and caressed his newly frapped body.
	Not every fiber of his being was on fire, he was merely dizzy, woozy, confused (again) but with a full collective of who he was.  It was dull and foggy but…
	At length he stood.  He was in a new area, it was bright, a forest of some sort.  This was new.  Was it good?  He rubbed his belly, his asshole still hurt, he had a bitch of a headache and wondered about his new surroundings.  And no mattered how much he blinked or concentrated, the Device HUD wasn’t coming to light.
	Oh well.
	He let it be, he needed to find shelter, maybe some clothes, definitely some food & water.  Everything and anything else would be secondary.

	There was no path, he was in the middle of some forest, there were a few HUGE boulders about, but he couldn’t see anything but trees in all directions.  He was cool with that, nakedly he strolled along with no particular destination in mind, pausing now and then, listening, taking in his new world.
	Presently he found a stream of water.  It was good and fresh and he drank his fill, washed himself and rested on the clover laden banks.  Staring thru the trees beyond the creek he saw what he thought were apples.
	They weren’t apples but pomegranates.  Just as well, they were messy but he wasn’t being picky.  He found wild tubers he wasn’t overly certain what they were, but they were tasty--once washed off and reminded him of potatoes--but they were longer and more porous.
	 At length he came upon a small well rutted road.  He liked this.  He listened, squatted and tried to clean any information from the rutted road, he had spent a few years under the tutelage of some expert trackers back in Deadwood.  His best determination was that it had been a while since any vehicle of any kind had come this way.
	Oh well, no matter, so it was a back road seldom used, someone had made it, it came from somewhere and WENT somewhere, he liked being on his own but it had its limits.  He struck off left and followed the road noting that the time of day seemed to be waning.

					****

	With little to care about, just going with the flow so to speak, he began whistling, prancing about butt bare assed naked, letting the unsettling things that had happened to him fade away, replaced by the more pleasant things.  The “ride” he was on due to the Device was something, really something!
	Presently he came upon a cabin.  A log cabin nestled just off the road a ways.  August ducked behind some bushes alongside the road as he saw some movement behind the cabin.  The cabin was nice, but no smoke from the single chimney.  It was small, rustic, but quaint and well kept up.  There was wash out on the line in the back, a stack of wood by the side, flowers, roses, bushes scattered about, a small white picket fence encircled the property.
	Carefully August scooted up to the cabin, there was a daring bold clearing he would have to cross, but he was interested in clothing himself, getting some food, and seeing what was up with the new place, what year was and all that.
	He tried blinking rapidly again to bring up the HUD, but it wouldn’t happen, maybe it was off-line for good.  He frowned at that, he wasn’t overly comfortable being out of his element, his time period.  He had just gotten used to the Old West time period and now would have to do it all over again.  (wherever he was!)
	Seeing no more movement August darted to the wood stack and held his pose there, straining to listen, trying to smell anything.  But there was nothing.  He held his breath and slowly peeked around the corner of the cabin; white linens hung on the laundry line, there was an old galvanized wash tub turned on its side, a chopping block with axe buried in it, some scattered pieces of wood.  Flower pots, a garden, something of a toppled library/book shelf with dozens of books sprawled out on the ground.	
	Beyond was the deep forest, it was all now somewhat strangely quiet.
	With no clothes per se on the laundry line he fumed, but without the Device functioning he couldn’t very well face whoever lived in the cabin, they wouldn’t understand or buy his story.  He would have to use force, he was weaponless (and naked) so brute force and cunning he would have to rely on.
	He stepped around the lee side of the hung laundry and was in for a mild surprise:  sprawled out on a woodpile was a an old lady, her clothes ripped off as well as deep gouge marks on her chest and face.  Her legs appeared to be broken and she had huge bruises on her inner thighs--August took to note that she appeared to have been raped.  Harshly.
	On the other side of the wood pile was a young girl, very young and nude as well; her clothing all scattered about, legs broken, brutalized sexually by someone who needed to see a manicurist!
	August paused, setting his eyes on the red bonnet, red cape in shreds laying by the young victim.  He blinked his eyes, sighed confusion and stole off into the forest.
	He found a creek and filled up on it, some tubers growing nearby helped a little.  He saw in the mud on the clover laden banks footprints, animal prints.  By the deep impression he was to ascertain that the animal was big.  August looked back towards the cabin, ‘Where was that road?’ why he was following a critter that obviously was demented and ferocious August had no idea.  It wasn’t a good notion, but he followed just the same regardless.
	Then something strange happened--not like it hadn’t already!
	He came upon a bear; a female bear.  He knew this bear to be female as she was wearing a head bonnet, a blue bonnet with lace trim; along with an apron about her waist, a blue dress of some sort.  She WAS a bear, but was STANDING and seemed perfectably comfortable in doing so.  She didn’t ACT like any bear August had known.
	She carried a pail and was picking berries by a creek, she paused momentarily to peer out into the woods beyond the creek August had hunkered down at.  She then returned to picking the berries.  
	Suddenly she was frightened by a smaller bear, a boy wearing a dark vest and a boy’s cap.  “Got’cha, Momma!” he cried.  The “mommy” “got the vapors” and fanned herself, acted as if she were all startled and lightly scolded her son.
	“Can we go back to the house now, mommy?” the bear-son asked.
	“No, not just yet, I don’t think your papa and Big Bad are done yet.”
	“Aw shucks!” spat the boy, he scuffed the ground and looked most displeased.  “Can I just go back and watch them?”
	“No!” scolded harshly the mommy-bear, “You stay right here with me until they are through.”
	“Aw I don’t get to have no fun!”

	The mommy bear and son left to go deeper into the woods out of sight, the mommy bear pulling on her son’s ear dragging him behind her.  In moments they were out of sight.  August licked his lips--what the fuck had he gotten himself into now!?!?!?
	Turning back to the cabin he had just left, something slowly clicked in his noggin--this wasn’t good.  He kept the idea that was forming to a dull throbbing notion--Naw, couldn’t be.  (could it?)
	He waited just a few more minutes, the woods were getting dark and just a little chilly.  Slowly he eased over a log that crossed over the creek and held himself tight in the bushes.  He heard nothing and so he moved along, coming at last to another cabin, quaint, two stories, with smoke billowing out of a chimney.
	There was the typical woodstack, a water well, a wheelbarrow, other assorted odds and ends of a rustic deep-in-the-woods country cabin.  There was the detection of some activity in the cabin.  A back door opened and someone threw out a pail of water.  The door closed and August waited.
	Darkness quickly came and squint as he might he could see nothing.  He had to get closer.  Holding his breath he took careful painstaking steps to tread across the clover lawn to reach the wood pile.  He thought he heard what sounded like music, he wasn’t sure what kind but it was music just the same.
	Just before making a daring move again the front door opened, light from within streamed out and a tall creature ambled out, patting his chest and yawning.  He hocked a huge loogie and scratched at his butt.  From the light August saw that the critter appeared to be a wolf.
	He was very tall, a huge wagging tail, long narrow jaw line, picking his teeth with a toothpick.  He wore a red flannel shirt and bib overalls of some dark color, but most remarkable was his schlong--the wolf had his penis hanging out of his clothes and it was HUGE and dripping with what August assumed was cum.
	This was getting way beyond strange.  Way beyond.

	The wolf turned re-entered the cabin.  The music stopped and August strained to hear any voices or anything.  Quickly and silently as possible he slinked around the wood pile and hugged the rustic side of the cabin.  There was a window nearby, it was stained with age but August took a daring chance to peer inside.  Checkered window curtain blocked most of his view, but he saw a table with the same checkered design covering the table.  He saw, too, the mommy bear walking by with some knitting in her paws/hand.
	Then he saw them--the wolf and the papa bear.  The papa bear wore a large dark red vest and nothing else.  Between the two was a girl, a human girl with seriously blond hair in curls.  She was nude and apparently had had her arms and legs broken--she was on all fours with the papa bear’s cock in her mouth while the wolf plugged away at her behind.
	“Eat MY fucking food, will ya!” chortled the papa bear.
	August didn’t understand.  Do you?
	August ran.  He never ran so fast.  Not even the Indians of the Purple Schlong had scared him so.  He stumbled, fell, skint his shins, stepped on something that pierced his bare foot and finally ran smack into an unseen low hanging tree limb.  It knocked him cold.

					****

	When nextly he awoke it was early morning; he was cold, hungry, and very-very-very confused.  Had he saw what he had saw?  (seen)  He didn’t know, maybe this was some sort of psychosis!?  Yeah, that was it, he was nuts!  He was laying in some hospital in Flagstaff on the mental case ward!
	But the sensation of the dew covering his still naked body, the moss beneath him, the twitter of birds, chirping squirrels & chipmunks, and the bay of a lone goat brought him to believe that he was on some trip.  Some wondrous unexplainable neurotic trip, but a trip nonetheless.
	The goat.
	A billy goat (normal) had arrived, baying at him, noshing on a bush here and there, taking a dump, twitching its tail and trotting about nonchalant.  August sighed, he couldn’t finger what part of his frapped mind had brought into play what he had just seen--er, the three bears shagging Goldilocks, the wolf having had his way with Grandma and Little Red.
	He knew the Device was a wonderful thing, but he began to doubt.  Maybe--just maybe none of this shit was real.  Yeah, that was it, nothing that had happened to him EVER was real!  He could go back as far as ole Charlie, maybe--just maybe that first trip down into the clearing, or down into the tunnels, or out to the pirate ship--maybe August HAD drowned!
	He nodded, it made perfect (almost) sense.  Almost
	He had found Charlie’s body on the shore by the pirate ship, arm draped about the cask of rum, then he (August) had tempted fate by going out into the water to avoid having an encounter again with the tunnel buggers.  Maybe he had actually drowned.
	Then, the rest of his life, everything, was a dream.  Or hell.  Hell.  Yeah, hell, this was his Hell.  But that didn’t figure too well, he hadn’t really been deserving of a placement in Hell at that time, or by that time.  He had been decent enough.  It was only by the Device had he…
	Oh no.
	It came to him.
	Choices.  Destiny.  Fate.
	Charlie had warned him, when he had left the old man’s ghost (Chapter 5)  To follow Your Destiny--or Make One, you step out this canyon, your Fate, Choices to Make, Destiny.
	August sighed.  ‘Shit.’
	Was this what it was all about?  He had made the Wrong Choice, his Destiny, his Fate set on the choice he had made once leaving the canyon, and discovering later what the Device Item 0110 was all about?
	Food for thought.
	And speaking of food…
	He had a lot to think on, a lot more than he cared for.  At what point had his life really changed, with his first encounter with the pizza girl at his shabby little trailer, when having his way with the lone bank teller after relieving the vault of some of its holdings?
	Had the Device simply taken over his mind?  Or--or was he still on the governmental secret installation, a test subject?  Seeing what a Subject would do if embued with such an enormous responsibility?
	More goddamn question he didn’t have answers to.
	Where was that goat?

	He came to a clearing, here there was a brick house.  Brick.  Red brick, with a simple white picket fence surrounding it, some flowers, a small tool shed, wood pile, and well with a vegetable garden nearby.  August hunkered down, vegetables.  He generally wasn’t too keen on veggies, but he was starving.
	He heard no sounds, there was a little wisp of smoke trailing out of the single chimney.  August narrowed his eyes and strained to listen and hear.  Nothing.  He darted, quickly making the wood pile and waiting.  Nothing.  He bolted for the vegetable garden and made wild grabs at the green stalks not caring what he was grabbing and then darted off just as quickly back into the woods.
	Luckily his selection wasn’t too bad, carrots and potatoes.  The broccoli and rutabagas he could do without, though.  He then took note of some wash out on the line.  Bib overalls.  They looked kinda small but would have to do, he saw three pairs and figured he would have to take all three and piece them together.
	After snagging all three overalls he got bold and peeked into the window from the back of the small abode.  He gulped and stared in awe:  in the front room of the single room cabin were three pigs--three little pigs.
	He couldn’t believe it.  And they were naked.  AND they were--they were--uh, well, one was on his hands and knees SUCKING on the wang of one who was sitting in a nice comfy chair.  He wore a straw hat.  
	The one SUCKING the wang of the one with the straw hat wore a backwards turned bill cap.  The third member of the trio wore only a train engineer’s cap and he was shagging away at the one on his knees.
	“Oink!  Oink! Motherfucker!” cried out Piggie Number Three, the one with the engineer’s cap.  He humped furiously into his “brother’s” backdoor, smacking his flanks had laughing hilariously.
	“Maybe we could do this to ole Big Bad!” chortled Piggie Number Two, the one with the baseball cap.
	“Naw, that lame fuck would never go for it!”
	Silence fell upon the trio, then suddenly they all burst out laughing.  
	August seriously worried about his psychosis.  This was most strange, strange indeed.  

	Piggie Number One, wearing the straw hat, stood up--just after shooting a wad of pig goo into his brother’s mouth, scratched his dangling swelled balls and remarked, “Holy shit, we’re makin’ bacon, now!”
	Deadpan silence, then--hilarious laughter.
	Piggie Number Three pulled out of his brother’s corn chute, smacked the pinkish ass and finished emptying his load onto the cheeks.  Piggie Number Two stood up, rubbing his organ and balls, smacking his lips and made some crude remark August missed.  Again, though, there was silence followed by minutes of crazy laughing.
	Something had distracted August, something looming out of the woods nearby.  Peering around the corner he saw the wolf, Big Bad.  He was dressed, chewing on a straw, a straw hat down on his face, lopping along without care, one hand in his well worn bib overalls, the other snapping his fingers to some tune August thought sounded like Jimmy Crack Corn!
	He disappeared to the front, August peered back through the back window.
	There was a knock.  The three little pigs froze, then Number Three spoke, “What, who is it?” in a semi gruff voice.
	“It’s me, Big Bad, come on out and let’s get this done with.”
	Piggie Number Two rubbed his ass and looked a little frightened.
	“Go fuck yerself, Big Bad.” shouted Piggie Number One.
	“Aw, you shouldna said that.” remarked Big Bad.  “Now I’m gonna have to get rough.”
	“Aw go blow out yer ass, Big Bad,” spat Piggie Number Three, “we’re in MY house, now, it’s made of bricks you dumb ass!”
	There was no response from Big Bad, August could see the shadow of the lanky critter, it seemed to be looming, getting bigger.
	Suddenly there was HUGE gust of wind.  It was near deafening.  The stacked neat wood pile spilled over, the wheelbarrow went sailing into the woods, shingles from the roof blew away.
	But the brick house still stood.
	“Well whattya know!” sparked Piggie Number Two.
	“HA!” shouted Piggie Number One.
	“Told ya so.” said triumphantly Piggie Number Three.  He crossed his arms and swelled with pride.
	“You little bastards!” shouted grumblingly Big Bad, “I’m gonna HUFF--I’m gonna PUFF--”
	“Aw go blow yourself!” smirked Piggie Number Two.  Deadpan silence, then uproarious laughter.
	Followed by an even bigger gust of wind.
	More shingles were blown off, the wood frame of the water well exploded, several of the windows were blown out, the back porch frame toppled--nearly crushing August.  But the brick house remained standing.
	The Piggies inside were on their backs, little stubby legs wriggling in the air laughing hard.  August peered through the cabin, seeing the shadow of Big Bad apparently stepping away.  The Piggies were all too busy laughing to notice (or care.)  August peered around the corner again and couldn’t see Big Bad.  He peered around the other corner, nope-not there, either.
	Hesitating a moment or two August finally summoned up enough umph to make a slinking check.  He saw Big Bad out a ways from the house, apparently noshing on something.  His huge black unkempt furry tail twitched as he seemingly ate something from a can.  August had no idea and hunkered down among the marigolds.
	Big Bad polished off the can and tossed it aside, wiped his mouth and then took a mighty swig from a mason jar.  He stretched and then proceeded to undo his bib overall outfit and step out of them.  What was he up to?
	He took a seat on a nearby stump, scratching his balls and chewing on a straw, he waited, waited, and waited.  August, too.  Inside the silly pigs were still on the floor laughing.
	Suddenly Big Bad got a look of surprise in his beady eyes.  He stood and August got ready to bolt.  Big Bad ambled forward to the house a bit, knocked, was told to “FUCK OFF” in unison from the three little piggies, then Big Bad turned, up turned his tail…
	And let one go.

	It was not to be believed.
	August’s eyes watered, he would not be able to “smell” anything, let alone “hear” anything, for days.  He choked on the “sudden” arrival of a green noxious cloud.  It was LONG and it was LOUD and it was DEADLY.
	The potent F-bomb (fart bomb) was devastating (in more ways than one).  It successfully brought the house down.  When the dust (and funky green cloud) had cleared, the Three Little Piggies sat in a pile of bricks dumbfounded.
	Big Bad calmly reached over and plucked them one by one, bashed their heads against a tree and promptly sodomized them righteously.  When done he carried them by their ears into the woods, whistling Jimmy Crack Corn!

	Numbly August moved through the woods OPPOSITE of where Big Bad had gone.  In his mind he DID find it somewhat hilarious how the story had ended.  Tragic, but the funny just the same.  He wondered what other storybook encounters he would have?
	And he wondered if he would ever find any clothes?
	
				*****

	He spent the next two days and nights wandering aimlessly along, tired, hungry, and well spent in his mind.  Nothing made sense, nothing was concrete.  Was this Hell, something amiss in his mind, where was he on the TimeLine?  Too many questions…
	On the third day just before noon he came to a meadow.  A meandering brook here, an old lodge pole fence.  That gave him a strong indication that the fence was constructed by someone.  But who?  A giant, a king, the farmer in the dell?
	Cautiously he followed the fence; it entered into some dense woods whereupon he promptly found the hemlock and poison oak along with the stinging nettles.  Being butt bare ass naked these things were a calamity to his raw skin.
	He then so did chance upon a young woman picking mushrooms.  He saw her, she wore a black cape with matching hood, there were long wisps of reddish brown hair peeking out from the hood, she was a tranquil beauty if ever August had seen.  He guessed her to be early twenties, so pretty, innocent looking, creamy skin.  She wore a plain peasant’s dress but it was clean and presentable.
	She carried a pail and was filling them up with mushrooms her pig was rooting out for her.  The pig was normal, but was the girl?  Suddenly her head came up, she held her pose--as did August, petrified with fear.  Perhaps the young girl had a father who had an axe and didn’t take kindly to naked strangers waltzing about scratching with diseases through the woods!
	“Hello?” she spoke softly.
	August gulped.  ‘Shit.’ he was some fifty yards or so away from her, his asshole puckered, balls cinched up, and he was stricken with her.  ‘God she’s gorgeous.’
	The damsel-not-in-distress stood peering into the deep woods.
	“You can come out, I won’t hurt you.”
	August didn’t know what to do, but he was in need of medical aid, food, and clothes.  Those things were tantamount, sex sadly had taken a downfall at this juncture.  
	Nervously he stood, concealing himself with at a bush.
	Their eyes met, the girl bowed her head and smiled blushing slightly.
	“I-I seemed to have lost my clothes.” stammered August.
	“So I see.” remarked the girl.
	August scratched at his numerous hurtie-owies and tired to look as pathetic as possible--which wasn’t hard to do.
	“If you will come with me I can tend to your needs.”
	That was a go, that was a good thing.  (he hoped.)

	He followed the girl, and her pig, through the sparse portion of the woods, coming to a well used path that led down to a small-small valley wherein nestled there was a moderate cabin.  (lots of cabins in this story, huh?)  The pig trotted happily home, the girl a few feet beyond August spoke nothing.  He caught the scent of jasmine and vanilla and was intoxicated by her.
	Inside the cabin it was well furnished, no electricity, no gas stove.  There was a huge stove by the far wall by the huge open fireplace.  A large cast iron pot hung in the fire, another sat on the stove.  Both had lids covering them and August could hear burbling sounds from within.
	It was a simple one room cabin and August like it, simple hand made furniture, covers, and paintings on the wall.  It was nice and tidy with a large cast iron bed against one wall, the floor swept up with embroidered throw rugs scattered here and there.
	A blanket the girl offered him, not looking down to his nudity.  August accepted, blushing himself.  “Now, then,” she spoke, “let’s tend to those wounds.”  of which he had many.
	While she meticulously worked on applying various goos to his itches and bites, scrapes, and gouges August became enamored with her.  Enthralled was he, her beauty was remarkable, brown eyes she had, reddish brown hair, such creamy skin, delicate features.  He DID long to know what she looked like naked.
	He kept that notion at bay, not wanting to get an embarrassing boner while she was doctoring him--she might throw him out and that would be bad.
	“Uh, my-my name’s August.” August finally stammered aloud.
	The girl paused in her work and looked to him, cocking her head, she then soothed him with her smile, “My name is Abigail.”
	An old fashioned name, an old fashioned homestead.
	“You live here alone, Abigail?”
	“Yes, just me and my pig, Vulgar.”
	‘Vulgar?’ hmmmm
	The healing salves were wondrous, there was instant gratification.  So soothing.  He leaned back in the chair as Abby worked up his legs and arms and chest.  She smelled wondrous, jasmine and vanilla, it worked for her, it really did.
	She soon began working the upper portion of his legs.  August kept his mind on Abby, her tight fitting Victorian-style clothes, her long neck, her beauty beyond explainable words.
	The blanket was removed and his nakedness behold!
	Abby didn’t seem to mind.  August didn’t either.  He was mildly embarrassed but was willing to let it be.  Her delicate hands smoothed over the green goo over his rough textured skin--as she neared his manliness his balls scrunched up and his cock began to rise--despite his best efforts to keep his attention elsewhere he got a stiffy.
	Abigail didn’t seem to mind for soon she was stroking August’s schlong, working magnificently (and expertly) up and down his shaft.  Ohhhhh, it was wondrous!  She clutched at his nut sac, squeezed the base of his cock and then placed her red luscious lips about the engorged head!
	August began pumping into her mouth, hand running through her hair, he no longer cared if this was some sort of dementia or whatever, a blow job was a blow job was a blow job!
	Abby sucked well almost bringing him to cum.  She stopped short of that, though, sat back on her knees and smiled up to him, her brown eyes shinning.  There was an aire of mystery to the lone girl.  Living in the woods by herself, how far away was she from anyone else?  
	Touching his cock again those new questions became fleeting.  She then stood and began undoing her shawl, followed by her tight fitting Victorian dress.
	August watched her as she took five minutes to undress.  The clothing simply fell away to the floor and she was as remarkable nude as she was dressed!  Even more so.  (naturally.)  Well developed breasts, not hanging, perky, torpedo-like, perfect round unblemished nipples.  Her skin as a whole was perfect, no moles, no marks, scars, blemishes of any kind.  
	Down at her “triangle” it was neatly trimmed, a thick patch of perfectly shaped pubes guarding the entrance to her love tunnel.  Casually he backed up, sultry-like.  She made her way to the lone bed and lay out on it, fingering herself.  August couldn’t believe it--this HAD to be a dream.  
	He came to her on nimble legs, he was no longer in any pain or discomfort from his woodsy ordeal, but now just in pure awe.  Laying out nakedly she was wondrous--remarkable.  He didn’t know where to begin.  Could he go down on her and nosh, would she be cool with that?  Could he be rough with her?  Could he doink her up the butt, between the tits, pee on her!?
	He settled for fingering her pussy and licking her out, priming her for the final victory.
	Abigail rolled and twisted on the bed, clutching at his hair and the bed, gyrating and bucking into his face, moaning and groaning and carrying on so.  August had to guess that she was incredibly horny.  That was a safe bet.  After licking her cunny until his tongue wore out, he engulfed it, breathed heavily into it, then traveled his tongue to her belly button.  
	Abby continued to buck wildly, not saying any words, biting her lips and being frantically in need.  August was ready to satiate that need, he lay upon her, guiding his aching cunt loving cock into her quim.  Abby almost shrieked as he made entry.  Her body tightened up, nipples went erect, back arched.  August sank himself into her and they both recoiled at the union.
	Slowly with fever they entered into lovemaking.  They kissed passionately as August plowed into her cunny.  Abby bucked into him, clinging tenaciously to his backside and latching onto his shoulder.  She bit him hard but he tolerated it and fucked her just as hard.
	While scrogging away, August wanted to make the best of the deal, make it last.  So he sent his frapped mind to think about other things, but those “other” things failed to come to mind.  Only the scent of jasmine and vanilla--now mixed with what he took to be--gingerbread.
	Gingerbread, now there was a smell he had not enjoyed since he was a wee little lad.  His demented fucked up pissed off 90% of the time mother used to prepare gingerbread, she made it year round and August loved it.
	It had been years since but the smell of it wafted into his nose and filled him.  He looked around casually for where the scent might be coming from but couldn’t see anything.  He pumped more vigorously filling the young woman beneath him, sending her into orgasmic oblivion.