August Moone
Timing is Everything
Chapter Six
Carpe Diem

	[literally, pluck the day] the enjoyment of the pleasures of the moment without concern for the future
	That summed it up nicely, August thought.  And since that time (way back ago) he had strove to do just that.  “Live for the day!  Seize the day!”  sentiments from an old friend who had learned his lesson too late in life.
	August doubted that though much he had learned none had he followed.  He had a few regrets, many in fact.  He cared not to dwell on them, Live for the Day was his trying motto.  But there were some concerns for the Future as well as the Past.  Neither he could do much about, they were virtually unchangeable.
	Or where they?
						****
	When his hand began to feel increasing pains he ceased his torment to the young mother’s bottom.  From her bare searing ass he could feel the heat and he marveled at it.  Tucked in the corner of the ’51 panel the kiddies one-two-three held one another, wailing and bawling as their naked mother was spanked HARD.
	Once more August stepped up and shoved his fuck stick into the woman’s corn hole, feeling the intense heat from her well flogged ass.  Serious rug burns she was receiving to her face and shoulders as August pounded away at her, his balls slapping against her as he pumped; in his mind Leigh Anne, Tami, Julie, Sally, Stephanie, Shawnra, Kim, twenty-four girls filled his mind.  He vowed that he WOULD fuck them.  He WOULD spank them, tie them up and make them HIS!
	But he wished he could have done so back then, back when they were younger.  Another healthy wad of spunk filled Monica’s asshole.  He pulled free and spanked her ass some more with his cock before letting her fall away, curling up and slowly going out of her mind.
	A wet washcloth soothed his bone, his mind was all a jumble with the twenty-four girls, a few teachers, then--thru his life all those bitches he had encountered that he would LOVE to re-encounter.  There was a doubt that that would ever happen.  But he DID know, come the reunion--he knew of twenty-four girls who were going to get doinked!
	The eight year old was Carlie.  Her siblings were Jason at 6 ½  and Amy at nearly five.  August licked his lips.  Their mother though utterly exhausted was still their mother.  Anything done unto them and she might summon up some strength to interfere.  And that just wouldn’t do.  So she was hogtied and gagged and forced to watch…
	The Device was on stand-by mode.  Just in case.  Close at hand was the tazer, to ensure compliance in a different matter.  Reaching for Carlie the mother did freak out and try to summon up strength--to no avail.  A naked August dramatically reached for the cowering child and unceremoniously pulled her up to a standing position and walloped her young little ass.	
	The girl wailed and August delighted in it.
	“You best mind me, bitch,” August warned her, “piss me off and your mother and siblings will suffer.  Got that?”
	The child with streaming tears and clenching body, rubbing her suddenly searing ass nodded her pretty little head.  She was merely eight years young but well enough understood the complications and dangers she and her family were in.
	August sat back massaging his organ.  He had fucked the girl’s mother repeatedly, in the ass, between those lovely pert mounds, in the mouth, and in the still ridiculously tight pussy!  His cock was worn out.  After a brief washing and a few minutes “rest” he now was ready to continue with his “destiny.”
	“Take your clothes off.”
	The girl’s eyes widened in fright & fear.  She comprehended the command, but the compliance part was a little lacking.  August brought into play the tazer and clicked it on.  The electrical prong snapped and popped and the little girl stood in pure fright.
	Down to basics:  “Take off your shirt.”
	Slowly the little girl complied with this.  She wore a light blow knit top with daises of various colors all over it.  She was a pretty girl--light brown hair pulled back into a single pony, wisps of hair strands loose all about her young face.  Blue eyes, a nice well rounded face, typical body frame size and style for a child of her age.
	Slowly his balls began to surge.  His cock, though, remained “soft.”
	“Take off your shoes, socks,” he said slowly, and as the child complied he added, “now your pants.” he ended with a smile.
	Carlie still wept, her mother nearby wept even more, struggling in her confines of the handcuffs.  August placed the prongs of the tazer against Monica’s bare ass skin and eyed Carlie, “Hurry it up.” he said.  Carlie understood implications of her Tormentor’s actions.  
	After removing her shoes, she threw them at August.
	August grabbed the child, she let out a wail that would bring the dead.  August silenced her with yanking her to his body and “wailing” away to her little ass.  “Scream all you want, bitch!” August said to her in pissed anger, “We’re out in the middle of the fucking desert, no one’s gonna hear yer ass ‘cept the fucking coyotes!” and he continued spanking the girl furiously for several minutes until his cock was rock hard.
	Then, while she continued to blast away crying uncontrollably he grabbed her by the hair and ears and jammed his schlong into her sweet young innocent mouth.
	Her hot breath was incredible.  She didn’t actually “suck” per se, but close counts.  August gouged her throat and made her frantic.  Her mother was beside herself with extreme distress.  The siblings were in hysterics behind her.
	At length he pulled out of the child’s mouth and smacked her upside the face with his organ then threw her to the carpet.
	“Now you lissen to me you fucking little bitch!” August yelled at the child, coming onto her body, straddling and pinning her down.  “You fucking ever do that again and I’ll break yer fucking legs open!” and he meant it, too.
	August cast his eyes to the child’s mother.
	“Carlie, Carlie baby-sweetheart,” wailed the mother, “just do as he says, it’ll be all right.” 
	It would be several long minutes before Carlie was “all right” enough to continue.  She lay on her back, sniveling and reeling in the horrible event that had just taken place.  She slinked down her jeans and August took them off her ankles.  She didn’t fuss and August was glad of it.  A sniff to the wet crotch of the jeans, then he rubbed them on his chest and naked cock before tossing them into a corner.
	Like others he had done he went down on the girl and eat her pussy out thru her wet pissy panties.  Carlie bucked and thrashed about (like she should).  August noted that she WAS a virgin.  His tongue pressed hard into her young snatch, nipping at her and finally pulling her undies down with his teeth.
	The pink panties he wrapped about his dick and masturbated himself almost to orgasm.  He held off at the last critical moment--he was saving it.  Again he went down on the young girl and licked out her pussy, raising her legs and tonguing her asshole, nipping at all her sex flesh until he couldn’t stand to “hold off” no longer.
	Carlie was turned about so as her dear freaking out mother could see her dear sweet first born being raped.  August positioned the child just so, just so as Monica could get a nice clean look as his very manly schlong went guiding into Carlie’s sweet young innocent very virginal poon.
	There was no stopping him no matter how much begging they all did.  On the onset of August’s cock entering little Carlie, she shut up and her eyes widened in horror and awe and surprise.  There was discomfort, sure, but as soon as the “breach” had come, the mixture of the sex juices (and blood) created a nice fuck for August.
	Monica passed out.  Jason and Amy clung to one another and bawled.
	Little Carlie offered hardly any emotion at all, just a blank stare.
	With a washcloth he cleansed her fucked cunny, then his cock.  With his fingers her massaged her fucked cunny and then had her do it herself, teaching somewhat how to frig herself.  This action only tantalized his schlong and despite extreme discomfort, he re-fucked Carlie again, though this time the child did most of the work as she lay a-top of him with him working her up and down his shaft.

	“I have to pee.” spoke in a low-low voice little Carlie.  With the side door open August sat on the door sill runner and brought the naked child to him, straddling his lap in a standing position.  The moon was partially out, the desert air chilly but not cold.  “Go ahead, honey, pee.” 
	It took a moment for the command to be interpreted.  Carlie clung to August’s shoulders, closed her pretty eyes and began showering his naughty bits with her pee.
	It wasn’t much but it made August gleeful.  He clung to her lovely young ass and reeled in the water sport.  To her chest and belly he blew raspberries on her, then tried tickling her--but she wasn’t in the mood.  She reacted a bit from the onset but quickly returned to being pissed off and not into his foolish antics.
	Inside the panel he placed her on her hands and knees, caressing her ass, parting the cheeks and digging into her asshole.  His tongue lashed her dirt chute, hickies were placed all over her cheeks before she was settled down onto her distraught high strung mother.
	“Lick her pussy.” August commanded.
	Monica was blitzed and at first couldn’t comply, the command was jumbled and in disarray.  She became aware that first there was a child on her face, then--it was HER child.  Her NAKED child.  
	With the tazer placed to Carlie’s ass, Monica began licking Carlie’s cunt to August’s satisfaction.  He then saddled up and after a little more corn hole gouging applied his severely ruthless cock and began poking his way into the child’s anus.
	Muffled words were lost into garbled sounds as August plowed into Carlie’s backdoor.  The child clung to her mother tenaciously as she was breached.  August could smell that one of the OTHER children had done a little more than pee themselves.
	His balls cinched up tight against him as he drove his big bone into Carlie.  The pleasures were incredible and finally he was shooting his load.  Furiously and then slowly to a strain he fucked until he was virtually empty.  There was no more strength in him.  His eyes fluttered, toes curled, and even his pubes straightened out.
	He made Monica lick her daughter’s gooey orifice and then he laid out and sought the magic of sleep.

	Bad Timing
	A strange noise suddenly jolted him to an awakened state.  His mind took mere moments to process the noise, a warbling throb very fast and close by.  Cobwebs still clung to the recesses of his mind, his body still sought the everlasting pleasures of sleep & rest.
	But it was not to be.  August peered out the open door of the panel, he had thought he had shut it, and it was only open part way.  Hmmmmm  Indeed, there he was saw zooming over a rocky ridge a helicopter.
	“Damn.” he said.  This was NOT good, no, not good at all.
	Panic settled into him and frantically his mind whirled to come up with a feasible plan.  He then checked Monica and noticed that her persona was askew.
	Then he counted heads and noted that he was missing one.  Frantically he searched the panel but then looked outside.  And there the little bitch was, running for all she could out towards the rocky apex where the copter had gone down into the other side.
	“Son-of-a-bitch!” he yelled.  He struck off after the child but she already had had a good start on him.
	It was early morning, the sun was just up over the horizon some minutes.  The desert sand was still cool from the night’s sleep, but the volcanic rock and stickers proved to be quiet the little mishap.
	For Carlie, too.
	The chopper could be heard but not seen.  Surely they had spotted his ride.  There was no escape, he couldn’t barrel out of the desert, there was no running for a helicopter.  Pretty soon the whole damn Painted Desert area would be amassed with every law enforcement yahoo as well as regular citizens.
	This was NOT good.
	Carlie had had to stop one too many times, August thrust back the intense pains in his bare feet and tackled the child, falling down onto her nakedness dramatically almost killing her with his collapsing weight.  Her breath was knocked out of her and hysterically she fought him as he wrestled with her and jerked her to a standing position.
	He swatted her bare ass as HARD as he could and then angrily dragged her kicking and screaming back to the panel.  She was zapped with the tazer and then secured with handcuffs, zapped directly on her bare pussy before she lost consciousness entirely.
	August’s feet were all but fucked up.  Monica tried screaming but August pressed the tazer to the other two remaining children and Monica shut up.
	The chopper made a sudden close appearance and settled down on the flat at the bottom of the slope from the ridge.  Ut-oh…

	Fate
	A deputy sheriff exited the helicopter as it powered down, bowing down and quickly moving up the gentle slope to the ridge (and August Moone.)  August had dressed (quickly) and winced at his torn up tenderfoot feet.  He shot a glare to Carlie--the little bitch was going to pay dearly for it.
	As the deputy neared August saw that it was a woman.  Double-ut-oh!
	This had complication unforeseen.
	“Hello there!” August said smiling and trying to be nonchalant.  The deputy’s persona was one of the same and not drawing her weapon or shouting at him--so August guessed that she had not seen him running naked after a wildly screaming naked child.

	“Good day, sir.” spoke the woman making her way steadily up the hill.  The chopper pilot had exited the craft but was a civilian and not a deputy.
	“What’s going on?” August asked.
	“Are you alone?” she asked as she got closer.  August held his ground some feet away from the truck, the side door had been shut and the “passengers” secured and warned.
	“Uh, yeah, I’m just up here checking the area out--”
	“For what?” as she made her final ascent and came level with August.  She kept her distance, though, and a hand on the butt of her weapon.  A young woman, early thirties, long curly dark brown hair, even darker roots.  The uniform didn’t do her justice, she had a nice figure and it would be better put to use in a nice long office dress, bathing suit, lion cloth.
	“Um, well, I’m something of a prospector, searching for minerals, antique leftovers--”
	“Have you seen anyone ELSE around here today?”
	“No, I haven’t, I’ve been--”
	“How long have you been here?”  nosey bitch, wasn’t she.
	As August began to reply a noise was heard from the panel.  The woman instantly went on the alert.  August whirled about, but the side door was still shut.
	“What the hell?” he said trying to be as shocked as possible.
	“You said you were alone?”
	“Yeah, but I’ve been spooked all damn night.”
	“What do you mean?” the woman said still on the offensive.
	“Well, strange damn noises like that, all night around my truck, up in the rocks, I was ready to--”
	“May I see your ID and vehicle registration?”
	“Uh, sure.” August said shrugging and getting pissed at getting cut off in his sentences.
	They made their way up to the juniper green ‘51 panel truck, August leading the way.  In his pocket he had the tazer, the Device was too big and would be too obvious to have out in the open--but it WAS on the front passenger seat.
	Opening the door there came another “noise” from within the panel.
	“All right, hold it!” the deputy shouted drawing her weapon.  August whirled on her bringing her hand to the open edge of the door.  He was quick and the deputy was caught off guard regardless of her training.  The weapon in hand fell and the two tussled.
	Luckily this action was taking place on the lee side of the truck, out of direct view of the helicopter pilot taking a piss down below.  Deputy Arlene Flowers, though, did manage to get a scream out.  August’s already tender nuggets were targeted and without any undies on under his jeans the “connection” was even moreso direct.
	They fussed and scrambled and Deputy Flowers came up with her weapon--just in time as pilot Harlan Gains topped the hill.  He was a man in his mid fifties, gray hair, leathery skin, and an excellent pilot.  He was not an excellent runner or had the ability to think well in a moment’s notice.
	The weapon in Deputy Flower’s hand discharged.  August desperately finally managed to get the tazer out of his pocket and zap the woman.  It disabled her and she thrashed about wildly, discharging the weapon uncontrollably in her hand.  August felt the “wind” of the bullet zip passed his ear, another grazed his shin and another flung rock debris into his face and eyes.
	Another jolt from the tazer got her to drop the weapon and she herself went to the ground to twitch and continue thrashing.  August kicked the .38 out of the way and pounced on the woman, taking her handcuffs and securing her wrists behind her back, slamming her head into the desert ground and rendering her unconscious.
	He took a quick breather and didn’t like the “stings” to his body from the .38.  “Son-of-a-bitch!” he wailed.  All was quiet inside the panel.  He threw open the side door, they had all cowered to the far corner, he saw Monica’s face go ashen and heartbroken that after all the fussings and gun shots, their Tormentor was still alive.
	He glared at them and then suddenly remembered, “Shit!” the pilot.
	Out to the open he darted to a large boulder scanning the area quickly for the pilot Harlan Gains.  Gains couldn’t be found, not immediately.  August stared at the helicopter down below; its blades just now coming to a stop.  He swallowed and listened, but there was only silence.  A brief breeze kicked up, a small fire was in his shin and face.  He tasted blood in his mouth and felt a little wobbly from his experience.
	Deputy Flowers was moving about on the ground by the truck; highly disorientated, babbling incoherently.  Numbly August made his way back to the truck to seek medical attention for himself.  Out of the corner of his eye he saw at the apex of the slope the pilot.
	He was laying prone face down in an odd positioning of arms and legs akimbo.  A large splat of blood on his backside.  August knelt down and checked for a pulse.  There was none.  “Shit!” August bitched.  He didn’t care for this.  He was many things, many, but not a murderer, or accessory.  This was NOT good.
	He sat still for a while, he wanted to do something, anything.  To offer a prayer, remorse, something.  “I’m sorry.” he said at last.  It was all he could offer.  Back up to his truck he went, pissed off royally now.  He yanked the deputy up, slapping her face and kneeing her in the crotch.
	She doubled over and nearly vomited.  She HAD peed herself though, that was a plus.  August shoved her into the panel, caught another whiff of someone who had shit their pants--one of the kids.
	Flowers was zapped again on the ass and while she twitched uncontrollably she had her ankles tied then tied to her cuffed wrists.  The door was closed and August fretted over the death of Harlan.  

					*****

	Leaving the Painted Desert area (and in a hurry, too) he fled across the dry land going off-road most of the way, getting stuck umpteen number of times and coming out in the desolate area east of the Hopi Indian reservation and the Three Mesas.  Here he had done some early prospecting and new the land fairly well.
	At a small settlement he stopped and made contact with a half-breed named Standing Bear.  Standing Bear was a GOOD friend of August’s, they went way back; spying on young girls changing clothes in their homes, bathrooms, and skinny dipping in a nearby creek.  Together the two had waylaid a young horse rider, spooking her horse until the horse bucked her.  She fell off and clunked her head knocking her out.  Standing Bear and August stripped her naked and fucked her brains out until they had had their fill of her.
	That was only one incident.  Of all the people August knew, and even some of those he knew well only Standing Bear he could 110% trust.  The two shook hands Indian style as August entered the out-of-the-way settlement.  A few tourists (who were usually lost) made their way and bought a few trinkets of this and that, enjoyed the desolation as much as possible, got a few sodas or beer and made their way to more pleasing sights and comfort.
	“Ah, you still driving that old thing?” Standing Bear joshed August.
	“Yeah.” August chuckled back.  Both men respected one another and had helped one another out over the years in sticky situations.  Standing Bear knew well enough what the old panel truck was basically used for.  And he would be right!  
	Standing Bear offered his old friend a cold brew from the 1950s Cola box, there were all sorts of Indian trinkets and artifacts about the house, a house that was a home as well as a so-so museum.  An old Hopi Indian woman rocked a six month old nude baby, she was mumbling so old ancient language and stared at August until he got nervous and fidgety.
	“Where’s your woman?” August grinned.  
	“Little Deer?” he snickered, “she’s out back doing her chores.”  The two men ambled back through the maze of cluttered Indian junk-Whiteman’s Treasures to the back area.  Chickens and dogs roamed about aimlessly, there was little shade, a few outbuildings, one old truck older than August’s ride and one ‘70s model pickup.
	At a small wooden structure having only three walls was a woman in her early twenties, butt naked doing some washings in an old 1930s washer.
	“Little Deer, come see who came to see us!” chortled Standing Bear.  He had a deep voice, was almost a head taller than August, and a little more muscular.  He wore no top dressing, just a vest.  He was rugged with many scars on his near naked body, his thick long black hair he let cascade down his lean body.  
	Running Deer quickly stopped her chore doing and run (like Edith Bunker) to her Master.  August fondly recalled the day he and Standing Bear had “caught” her.  (Up in the hills around Red Canyon north of No Man’s Mesa at the San Juan River.  She had been alone, a runaway from an Indian Reservation in Utah.)
	She came up with head bowed, she was very well dominated.  And pleasing to the eye, too!  Soft russet brown skin, very long luxuriously soft dark hair. She had been quite the catch.  Supple breasts, soft skin, fuckable, delightful, semi willing.
	“Hello, Running Deer.” August said calmly.
	She looked up all smiles, big beautiful dark eyes, she chewed her lip and gracefully spoke, “Hello, August Moone, it is nice to meet you again.”  Although she had come to him naked, and he liked that, and although she was very pleasing to the eye, August hadn’t gotten a “woody.”  not until she spoke those words to him.
	“You got time for a “quickie?” Standing Bear asked of his friend.
	“No, not really.” August said in all seriousness.  “Some shit’s got out of hand and I--uh--”
	Standing Bear understood and sent his darling prize away.  He had “other” prizes, too, young ones scattered about the “encampment” that with a little Indian “magic” they were no cause for concern.
	Back inside the humble abode Standing Bear clicked his fingers and a naked Indian boy approx. 15 came to be.  August knew his defenses were down, he had noticed the boy the first time thru or the second!  “Joseph, go and get Lazy Eye.” the lad nodded and struck out across the wide open space to “fetch.”
	August hobbled into a “sitting” room and took a much needed rest.  He had done some first aid to his wounds, but more medical attention was needed.  He hadn’t been aware--not until some miles away from the “encounter” that a bullet had struck him in the side; it had gone clear thru, but still, he was bleeding and needed stitching.  Another bullet he hadn’t known about had nearly blown off his knee.
	“You got “cargo?” Standing Bear asked setting down opposite his friend.  August nodded.  The sitting room had that old antique smell lingering, old canvasses covering old wagon trunks, wagon wheels, lanterns--objects and items from the glory days of the old west.
	“Want to make a “deposit?” he asked curiously.
	August sipped his beer, he hadn’t thought of it, just the medical attention and to be out of the danger zone was his priority.  But now, he nodded, his cargo he did need to get rid of.