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Archive name: moone.txt (M+f+m+, ped, nc, v, mc, parody)
Authors name: Bootscooter (simplerecipes@msn.com)
Story title : August Moone--Timing Is Everything
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August Moone--Timing Is Everything (M+f+m+, teens, nc, v,
ped, mc, parody)
by Bootscooter (simplerecipes@msn.com)
***
August Moone comes into possessing a most wondrous
object, a Device; the story goes thru how he came to
acquire said Device and what he does with it. Can you
imagine what you would do should you have such a nifty
gadget that allows you manipulate another person's mind?
Read August Moone and be prepared for quite the little
sexcapade to the twisted and bizarre.
Timing is Everything
Chapter One: The Beginning...
In everything there is a beginning; the beginning of the
universe, the beginning of the world, the beginning of an
orgasm. There's an ending, too; but we're nowhere near
there yet. There's middle, too; but that's not yet to
cum. For August Moone there was a beginning, it was fuzzy
and he only had bits & pieces of it, but it was a
beginning.
He had toured a great deal of the southwestern states,
archeological digs of this nature and that. Studying the
ancient Indians who were no more --specifically the
Anasazi. Deciphering where exactly his "beginning" began
became increasingly difficult to pin down.
Until he rolled into familiar territory: Flagstaff. A
summer rain had come, his dirty windshield only made
matters worse as the dirt and grime from the desert
smeared to and fro. Flagstaff. The go-between of I-40;
northward was the Painted Desert; south lay wondrous
burgs catering to those not so inclined to be in the
masses of those admiring a big (albeit famous) hole in
the ground.
August had spent some time here, operating a tow truck
for Mr. Peters at Peter's Wrecking Yard Emporium. Fresh
out of a four-year hitch in the Army, August with no
family whatsoever sought to make his way in the world.
His dislike of school brought him to the only job that
didn't require higher learning.
At first he merely worked in the yard while training to
work the wrecker. Mr. Peter's was a genuine class A
"Asshole." But he'd given the young man a job and a
trailer to stay in on-site. It wasn't long before August
found that while going out on runs to distressed roadside
motorists, a brief romp out in the neighboring desert
brought interesting finds. Finds that with a little work
garnered him some scratch ($$).
Old relics taken out into the badlands and left for
various reasons August didn't care. With the wrecker he
hooked up the old abandoned cars and pickups of bygone
eras and hauled them back (although not letting Mr.
Peter's get wise.) August smiled as he fondly recalled
those days. He pulled over to a McDonald's parking lot
and stopped. A woman in a Navajo blanket darted out
through the lot making her way to the nearby bus stop. He
froze near solid when she stopped and turned before
entering the bus there and looked his way. A sudden rash
of visions filled him, some were somewhat disturbing.
Others were simply horrifying. Why had he returned to
Flagstaff? He had no clear idea, after a recent
experience at a Dude Ranch he had just been driving
around, finding himself.
Flagstaff was a beginning. That much he came to
understand. His descent into the perilous unknown. An
unthinkable unimaginable roller coaster ride into the
very depths of depravity--and beyond. He placed his hand
reassured on the fanny pack beside him, feeling the bulge
of the item concealed therein he sighed. The Navajo-
blanket wrapped woman entered the bus and the bus roared
off into the rain.
*****
"Hey boy, you out there whackin' off or snoozin'!"
"I'm on Seventeen north, just came out of Oak Canyon with
a service call."
"Well, git it done and git yer hide up 89 the monument
turn-ff, got a new Chevy Blazer with California plates
needs our help."
"Ten-four." August placed the mike back into its holder
on the dash and zoomed off for another call. He'd have to
ditch the '57 Chevy Nomad he had found abandoned and do
as pesky-assed Mr. Peter's demanded. Priorities. He
sighed and paid little attention to the posted speed
signs.
He wasn't sure how the conversation had begun but the
stranded motorist from California also like old era cars,
he mostly was into those from the '30s and '40s. "Those
fixed up can make you some money, serious money." August
was all for that. He listened as the man told him about a
1934 Ford he had found out in the desert north of Mexican
Hat. He invested $4,000 and turned it around to sell it
to a fella in Las Vegas for five times as much!
August was gassed. The man went on to fill August with
info that all around the Blanding and Mexican Hat area
there were abandoned cars, some up into the '50s and
'60s. With just a little scratch they could be fixed up
descent enough to turn a nice profit.
August was all for that. So, with the notion of earning
more scratch than he was as a yard jockey August began
scooting further and further out into the desert, taking
risky day trips out of radio range of Mr. Peter's. He
mostly tried on his days off so as he could have more
time. Those days when he couldn't and got out of radio
range and Mr. Peter's blood pressure was as near high as
Flagstaff's elevation--August calmly told the tight
wadded old coot that the truck needed a new radio.
For the time being as long as August made a feeble
attempt to please Mr. P in every way, he was able to
scathe through and prowl forbidden treks.
On one of his treks he encountered an old goat. An
abandoned shell of a '54 Chevy panel August came onto, it
was high desert noon time and time to be scurrying back
to familiar territory of home when suddenly waltzing thru
a dry wash August had to hit the brakes hard--lest he
smack into the old goat not paying attention.
"Don't want to be tooting around out 'ere in these
wahshees, boy," the grizzled old man said, "them clouds
up thar (pointing to the nearby mountains) can send a
wall of water that'd bury you and this 'ere truck in
nuttin' flat."
The old had kerosene for breath, his skin was withered
and aged by the sun. He wore an old funky hat and his
hazel blue eyes (almost gray) had seen more than anyone
had. He wasn't too well dressed for the traipsing and
August offered him a ride to wherever he was going. The
old man accepted graciously and gave his name as Charlie.
Charlie "Dugout."
The old man giggled and told August the story--back in
the 50s it seemed as though Charlie was a ball player,
played for minor leagues and only occasionally came up to
the majors, and most of the time occupied the "dugout"
anyways.
"What the hell were you doing out here?" August wanted to
know.
The old man suddenly clamed up and didn't speak a word
for several twists and turns of the dry wash. When the
old wrecker got bogged down in some deep sand August used
chicken wire and board planks to get out of it, Charlie
got talkative again and told August about some canyons in
the area... "So damn deep you have to look twice to see
the bottom!"
August didn't know for sure, the old codger was about
half tanked.
"You know about them Anasazi?" Charlie asked casually.
"The cliff dwellers? Yeah, sort of, kind of, why?"
Charlie once more clamed up and didn't speak until back
in Mexican Hat. Charlie had a small trailer tucked in
behind a roadside eatery. After a brief respite and a
fresh cold brew, August was about to leave.
"I was looking for a door." spoke up Charlie.
"A door?" quipped August. He knew the old fart was off
his rocker. He was a washed up ball player as well as a
prospector. August had gotten that much out of him, in
between sips of Old Granddad whiskey. August had to buy a
bottle at the store to keep the old man yapping, most of
what he yapped didn't make sense no ways. But he was
entertaining regardless.
"Yessir, a door." he continued to proclaim. "That's where
them cliff dwellers all disappeared to!" August rolled
his eyes, it was time to hit the road, he'd get back to
the yard about the time Mr. P would be blowin' his stack,
"Where you be, boy, you off a-whackin' or a-sleepin'!?"
"Yessir, a door, it's out there somewhere." the old man
continued to rattle. August swigged his last of the brew,
mopped his brow and began making his way to the truck.
They had been sitting out under an old funky tree older
than the dirt it grew from. It provided sufficient shade
but it was still hotter than the blazes out. The old man
went off to his equally old twenty foot trailer, "Come
'ere, boy." said the man over his shoulder and waving his
arm in a half-assed gesture.
August moaned, checked his watch, "Shit." it was three
o'clock, it was going to take him about three hours to
get to the yard. Mr. P was going to be PISSED! He looked
for a phone to call and give his boss some lame excuse;
the truck broke down, he had a service call he was doing,
something when he was tapped on the shoulder.
Charlie Dugout stood there with a big pussy eatin' grin
etched on his withered grizzled old face. He had a closed
hand he held out for August to see. The old man opened it
and there in his grimy palm was a coin.
August stared at the coin and then picked it up. It was
cold. It wasn't minted, just sort of formed with small
minute etching, no face or any "statements".
"Yessir," grinned the toothless old fart, "it's gold."
August surmised that. "Where'd you get it?" he asked.
The old man grinned even wider exposing his blood red
gums, "Told ya, door!" *****
The rain pattered on the roof. His mind wandered faintly,
eyes closed, Charlie Dugout's face embedded into his
memory. "Door." Looking out towards Painted Desert August
casually wondered, how many more of those "Doors" were
there? Down in the canyons, up along the cliffs, just
aimlessly here and there out in the desert along the
desert canals?
The thought of traipsing out there again slowly crept
into his mind. It was a notion, nothing more. Was that
why he had returned to his old stomping grounds? From
Flagstaff it was up Route 89 50 some odd miles to the
Tuba City R-160. Then it was 115 miles northeast to the
state line, a few miles more to Mexican Hat, Utah.
His stomach growled as he contemplated. A portion of him
thought, "Why not?" while another portion dramatically
spoke right up, "Are you crazy!?"
He had been lucky the first few times traipsing into the
bizarre unknown with a deranged ex-ballplayer. There was
the one time on his own that was forever buried in his
mind and the last time (traipsing into the unknown)
whereupon he had barely escaped with his life. To even
venture a notion to try it again was a sure sign of
lunacy.
He had no intention. Furthermore he had no cause, no
reason to tempt fate. He had what he wanted, albeit he
didn't hardly know thing fucking one how to use it, but
he had it and that's what counted. He sat back and patted
the inanimate object in the green rucksack fanny pack. He
realized the potential, sure, Mind Control--pure and
fucking simple. With something like that--why, the sky
was the limit. He could live the life of luxury, own
anything and live anywhere.
But he realized, too, that there were other aspects to
such grandeur. Unforeseen aspects that could unhinge at
any moment without notice. And that would be bad.
He had deemed long ago to take it slow and easy and not
risk it. There was plenty of time to figure out the
device--no hurry.
The Device. GI Item 0110. General Issue, government
issue. A strange set of circumstances had come to August
and in the end he had come away with an amazing find.
More so than discovering what had happened to the
Anasazi, strange disappearances of peoples and things,
weird unexplainable happenings, and gold. Quickly he
scurried across the parking lot to the fast food eatery
and paused inside, scanning the patrons and staff
(paranoia, it's a good thing) before saddling up to the
counter. He couldn't help but notice the younger counter
person--lily white skin, no more than 20 or so, slender,
polite, cheerful. The dorky blas‚ uniform didn't do her
justice at all. Pure white teeth, great skin, five foot
five with appropriate weight.
She took his order and money, August caught a whiff of
her strawberry shampooed hair. His cock noticed, too.
Lordy lordy--
She brought his order to him, smiled and walked away.
August lingered after her, feasting his eyes not on his
burger but her delicious butt. Tight black uniform knit
slacks. His balls surged and cock became quiet hard. The
smell of food, though, re-directed his attention and he
noshed.
After fulfilling one need--he sought to fulfill another.
After emptying his tray he sighted the young Subject
delivering a tray to some folks in the side room. August
saw his chance and quickly got into position by the side
bathroom door. Here before the Subject could leave the
area he zapped her.
He zapped her with the use of the hidden-concealed
Device. An object about the size of an over zealous
remote controller functioning several electronic objects
in a variety of ways. It was light gray, hard plastic
shell casing and having bells and whistles, LCD screens,
view screens, and functionalities that would make an MIT
geek drool.
No one in the small side room was the wiser, too busy
noshing and mind their own business. August checked the
main screen of his unique Device and smiled inwardly to
himself, the Subject's "brainwave" pattern had been
established and "captured." She was paused at the end of
the side room by the trashcan receptacle.
A press of a button brought up in a side LCD screen a
list of "Commands." With the small finger sized trac-ball
he selected the "command" desired and watched with
satisfaction the Subject turn and make for him.
From the bathrooms there was a second door leading out,
you could go out this door but not in. didn't make sense
but August didn't care. He guided his new Subject out and
sheltered her from the rain with his oversized trench
coat. His '51 juniper green panel truck was park just out
of video camera angle. He hoped. The girl was still
sheltered and he whisked her in thru the driver's side
which was facing the street. He waited a moment, then a
moment more, slowly peeling off the trench coat and
concealing the blitzed-zombiefied 20 year old laid out
between the seats. After another moment he fired up the
panel and eased out into traffic. "Debra" lay still in a
zombiefied manner and knew nothing of her (impending)
dilemma.
He wanted to dart by the Yard, just because, but had
other pressing business first. He darted down to familiar
streets he had been to before and parked. His "passenger"
still was under his control. That was a good thing.
Carefully he eased her into the back of the customized
panel truck, it was super comfy and super secure. He
closed the dark green curtain for the added security then
opened the top vent in the roof for air circulation and
light. A small overhead light was switched on and then...
He peeled out of his clothes.
Debra's shoes he removed and rubbed her feet. (no he did
not have a foot fetish) His hands went diligently up her
long legs, pausing at her belly. The girl with eyes wide
open stared up to the ceiling. The goofy brown uniform
shirt he removed and began a five-minute serious fondle
of her young adult breasts. She was small busted and
August didn't mind. He actually preferred young small
breasts and not into huge mammoth hooters.
The bra he removed and checked the girl's reaction. There
was none. Securing the Device Item 0110 he began making
adjustments; adjustments that would give the young woman
the ability to move about some, have her wits about her,
and react but not to the degree that she would be "out of
hand." and if she DID get out of hand, well, August had
something for her for that--a legally obtainable
tazer/stun gun.
Debra began to move, moan, and be quite confused. As she
should be. August moved down her body, hooked her black
knit uniform slacks and pulled them down. Then moved in
and began noshing on her poon, eating her pussy thru her
panties. The young woman began to move more and more,
freaking out as the realization of what was happening to
her struck her.
August noshed, engulfing the panty and sucking for all he
could muster. His cock stuck up between his legs with his
ass up, his balls swinging away as he thrashed about
gnawing on the twenty-year-old's poon pie.
The panties came down in his teeth, Debra's legs flailing
about, fingers digging into the shag carpeting, body
arching. She was still no threat so August let her be. Up
between her legs he came, gliding his erection against
her swollen tantalized cunny. She had evidence of being a
non-virgin but August further determined that she was at
least not a slut. For an instant Debra froze solid, back
arched, tits pooching upwards, eyes wide as several
inches of rock hard fuck stick entered her pussy. "Oh ...
God!" she murmured. Her face was of fright, fear, some
anguish, and lots of distress. The emotions changed
subsequently as every inch of his manhood slid into her,
filled her, fucked her, satisfied her.
Her fingers clutched the carpet and mid way thru the
assault she began "pumping" back into his sex. August
nipped her nipples and drove his bone into her; her pussy
muscles tightened up tight, pleasing his fuck stick with
enormous pleasure.
The young woman's pussy was well lubricated, the cunt
muscles gripped his shaft and gave him intense pleasure,
they got into a serious fuck and strive as he might
August could not contain the flood of his juices--his
cock exploded forthwith. His eyes fluttered and he could
no longer see. His toes curled, his body went taut and
natural fuck-like-a-rabid-dog took over. He pounded
Debra's pussy until he could pound no more.
Debra wept some, continued to move about as much as she
could. August watched her labored breathing, her body a-
wash in a sheen layer of sex sweat. Jizz juice oozed out
of his aching schlong, he caressed his balls and rested,
relaxing. Debra did nothing more than clutched at the
carpet and stare up to the ceiling. Checking the Device
August found that all was still okay, she was still his.
Lightly his mind drifted back (again).
******
The strange gold piece had August's attention, but
Charlie Dugout claimed it came from a place "not of this
place." August didn't know if it was the booze talking or
the old geezer was senile. (or a little from column
"A"... )
As August got closer to the Yard he made a few frantic
calls to his boss. There was no answer. This was not
good. August dreamt up all sorts of things; mainly Mr. P
was out looking for him. The gold coin weighed heavy on
his mind and he couldn't shake it. August had pretty much
convinced himself by he rolled into the wrecking yard
that Charlie had probably found some old Spanish
treasure. August had understood that Spaniards sometimes
made enduring treks into the badlands to hide their gold.
Settlers and prospectors, too, fell into the mix. But a
Doorway, to another world? August couldn't go that.
August found that Mr. P had gone down to Phoenix on
business and he (August) was on his own until he
returned. August mopped his brow and entered into his
dingy cruddy abode--the trailer. It had been a long drive
getting back. He was tired. He ditched taking a shower
and laid out on his bed and stared up to the ceiling. The
gold coin danced in his mind, Charlie claimed he knew a
spot where a handful could be gotten.
A handful.
Was Charlie clear on that or leading him on?
August didn't know. He didn't know a lot of things. How
much was gold these days? A handful, huh? That'd be nice.
Real nice. He went off to pleasant dreamland with
thoughts of gold Rolls Royces and mansions.
His sleep was disturbed roughly and rudely, "Git yer ass
UP, boy!" shouted a muffled voice. August struggled to
find himself. Bright sunlight streamed in through the
dirty pane window. Mr. P's head was there, chomping on a
cigar and barking. August rolled out of the grimy bed and
opened the trailer door.
"You gotta git out to Williams, right thar at that Deer
Park thar's a customer waitin'." August grumbled
something incoherent as Mr. P lumbered off back to his
office. "Time's wastin', boy," he mouthed over his
shoulder, "I wanna see that damn truck movin' outta the
yard in five minutes!"
August grunted and made business in the bathroom, looked
at his scroungy face and headed for the truck. He would
spend the day fetching stranded cars here and there,
making car part runs and being a general slave.
He did manage to get in a lunch break and snag the day's
paper.
"Three hundred twenty-five dollars!" he said out loud.
His eyes blinked excessively as he stared at the figures.
Gold was selling $325 an ounce. The gold coin of Charlie
Dugout was about an ounce, at least. 'And I know's a
place where's I can git a HANDFUL of 'em!'
With a handful of quarters in his hand, August was hard
pressed not to take a run back up to see ole Charlie
Dugout. But for now he had to settle with doing Mr. P's
bidding.
It wasn't until a couple of days later that August got
his chance. Mr. P was making another Phoenix run. August
made the determination that Mr. P had a "honey" down
there, he was cheating on his wife. It was no sweat off
of August's balls. He did a couple of things around the
yard, helped a couple of customers, then boogied
northward to Mexican Hat.
Timing is Everything
Chapter Two: Discoveries
The pitter-patter of rain steadily danced on the roof.
Five Wal-Mart trucks in a row had zoomed passed sending
up a huge wave of water through the intersection. A green
VW bug had stalled out making it's way thru and several
other motorists were helping get the People's Car to
drier ground.
A police car zoomed by with lights and siren.
A garbage truck rumbled thru the intersection--showering
those poor sots standing in the bus cubicle. August
chuckled and stretched. His mind was still deciphering
his purpose for being back in the city. He had yet to
make it down to Peter's Wrecking Yard. And he doubted
that he would.
Again he reached over and patted the Device nestled
snuggly by his side. Acutely he was aware of the simple
fact that there WAS more to it than he knew of. Much
more. It had been years--literally YEARS since he had
"acquired" the Device and during that time he determined
that he had only uncovered a small fraction of the Item
0110's abilities.
It wasn't that he was timid about dinking with something
he really knew nothing about it. The Device hadn't come
with a "manual" so tinkering with the unknown could be
potential dangerous. A little at a time was his thinking.
Paranoia, it's a good thing.
For the most part he had discovered that the Item filled
his dreams, for the most part. Mind Control was its most
amazing quality--"capturing" a victim's mind,
manipulating it, shaping it to either remember or not;
allowing said victim to "experience" the debauchery that
was occurring in progress, to accept "commands" and so
forth.
And let's not forget another redeeming quality--
Invisibility. That was a biggie. But it too worked mainly
on a Subject's mind but also recently August had
discovered that he could use his OWN brain waves to emit
a "warble" space around his being--thusly creating such a
disturbance in his space that he was "invisible" to
sight.
But by all the strange encrypted coding in the Device's
program display August knew there was more the thing
could do. Another Wal-Mart truck zoomed by sending a
large wave of muddy water covering a small economy car.
An old woman at the already soaked and partially
submerged bus shelter suddenly slipped and fell--exposing
her bloomers for everyone to see--legs going up and
spread wide. She was alright, she recovered but was now
100% soaked thru. August began to chuckle and continued
to wait out the rain. He disliked driving in the rain,
and beings as he was not on any great pressure to do
anything or be someplace, he chilled out and waited.
He sighed deeply and checked on his "passenger". She was
sleeping. He rubbed his cock and balls, farted, then
relaxed a little more in the seat. With the radio on low
he returned to the Beginning:
****
He felt that it was probably a sign of some sort; coming
down the Pass from Arizona into Utah he blew a tire,
water hose, and a fan belt--just miles apart from one
another. Not paying any attention the mitigating
circumstances he zoomed on in to Mexican Hat and hunted
up Charlie Dugout.
Who was nowhere to be seen (or found).
He rested a bit, had a beer, pissed on the old oak and
stomped around a good fifteen minutes before striking out
for the desert. His inclination was to go back to the
area where he had first encountered the old codger
ballplayer.
This only took an additional hour despite having a flat
on the inside dual of the tow truck. The lure of the gold
coin Charlie had flashed kept August going, jostling
about the many dry washes and zooming out getting "air"
back onto the desert floor.
At length by a dry river August finally spotted the old
coot, across the dry river stumbling out of a ridge of
massive boulders. August honked the horn of the truck and
boogied across (almost getting stuck several times in the
middle.)
Charlie didn't care that August hadn't brought any beer,
the cold ice water was just as good. (for now) After
cooling/washing down Charlie cocked his head an motioned
for August to follow.
It was blazing ass hot out, the boulders, too. August
could feel the heat rising up from the sand. There was
not much a relief even in the shadows of the great
boulders as Auggie followed the stumbling old man through
a slight maze of a pathway. After a short distance the
rugged features of the boulders gave way to something
more smooth surfaced. The colors had changed, too--from
rust and gray to slate black. The temperature had taken a
notable decline and the sand gave way to hard packed
earth.
The old man suddenly came to a stop. August not noting
almost ran into him. Looking passed the old man August
saw a clearing. It wasn't much, kinda small shielded by
the massive rock walls.
"What?" asked August not knowing.
"Just wait." spoke the old man.
'Wait for what?' August said to himself. He sighed and
leaned against the smooth obsidian-like surface and
"waited." His legs were tired and so he slowly began to
inch down, what the old man was up to he had no idea and
was almost to the point of "not caring" when the old man
suddenly clicked his fingers to get Auggie's attention.
Before August's very eyes the "clearing" suddenly
changed. The towering rock wall before him disappeared
and there was now a flowing river with a large beachhead.
"What the fuck?" August murmured.
"Been waitin' fer it all damn day!" smirked Charlie.
Quickly he began to move through the new area, August was
highly confused and filled with wonderment but followed
the old fart anyways.
Looking back over his shoulder as he came out onto the
beachhead he saw something of a shimmer where he and
Charlie had once been. Other than that there was nothing
but vast desert-like landscape.
Charlie despite his age and feebleness was moving quickly
along the sandy beach to an outcropping of rocks. August
checked the river, it seemed to drop off right from the
get go. It was moving swiftly and was very cold. August
tried to place in his mind -- was this the San Juan,
couldn't be the Colorado, not in the right place--it had
to be the San Juan, but he didn't think he had come out
that far yet.
Charlie was scrambling up over some of the rocks, August
then took note of the sky. It was a strange hue had had
never seen before--especially in a sky scheme. Rather
than the normal blue it was kind of orange. A light
orange with puffs that Auggie took to be for clouds.
August hurried to the outcropping seeing that the old man
was no longer in sight. Once over to the other side there
was a long stretch of beach with endless dunes. A stiff
breeze was here and the smell of what August to be more
akin to being at a regular beach. He noted, too, that the
"river" was more akin to an ocean, too.
"Charlie?" August called out not seeing his friend.
"Up here, boy." called down the old man. August looked up
and Charlie was up on the outcropping. The wind rustled
his hair and August thought for sure the breeze would be
strong enough to carry the old fart out to sea. "How'd
you get up there?" August inquired. Charlie had to point
out the small path winding up through the rocks.
"Be careful." Charlie warned. And despite that warning
August fell several times before reaching the top.
Charlie was already on the move, "We got to hurry, boy."
Charlie warned further.
"Why?"
"This place is only a sometimes place." Charlie replied.
"What the fuck?" August exclaimed aloud.
"This place ain't always here, it comes and goes.
Sometimes it "goes" for a good long while, sometimes it
stays."
August thought for sure that the old ballplayer had taken
one to the noggin one too many times. He didn't sound
drunk, though, so it wasn't booze talking. August had no
fucking clue.
The rocky outcropping segued into a grassland area.
Charlie was really moving on. August struggled to keep
up. The old man suddenly stopped short with August once
more nearly bowling into him. 'Now what!?'
Before them there was a "bowl"--a depression in the
landscape whereas in the middle was a small pond. Some
old logs half submerged were about and there was nothing
more. The grass was sweet and smelled so, it stood waist
high and was moving by an unfelt wind. The depression
spanned some hundred yards across in a perfect circle.
"Watch yer step!" giggled the old man. He claimed that he
had been there a few times already, August saw no sign of
that but then again, everything thus far had been a
little weird.
There was no sand or beach or anything, the water was
right there at the bottom of the depression. The pond was
only some twenty feet or so across. August could see
fishes in the pond, he took them to be them Japanese type
fishes, koi.
Charlie started peeling out of his clothes.
"What up?"
"We's got to go "fishin'!" seethed the senseless old man.
August had had just about enough. He wasn't getting any
information and was being taken for a ride.
"How deep is it?" August asked just because. "Don't
rightly know that. But at the bottom there's an entrance
where it leads off to some tunnels; stay to the ones that
are lit up natural like. And stay to the right. Any
tunnel that aint got no light--DON'T GO IN IT! At the end
you'll come up to huge cave. A ledge goes up and up and
up to I don't know where, take the ledge down to the new
beach you'll see there."
"What's this all about?" August demanded to know.
Charlie fumed at being interrupted. "You'll see when you
git thar, boy!"
August wasn't sure he was going. He was getting deeper
and deeper into some shit he didn't know any fucking
thing about--and getting pissed off about it, too!
Charlie stripped naked and jumped into the pond without
another word. August knelt down and watched the ripples.
The old man was crazy. Period. Abso-fucking-lutely
positively crazy.
But where had he come up with the odd coin?
That had been real. Charlie had had several of them, said
he settled up old past due accounts, helped out a few
friends, and drank the rest. August didn't know what to
believe. The pond slowly returned to calm with just a few
laps sucking at the half sunken log nearby.
Above the sky was still the orange sherbert-like color
scheme. 'A sometimes place.' what the fuck?
Against better judgment he shucked his clothes and
plunged into the cold waters himself.
*****
"A flash flood warning for all of Coconino and Yavapai
Counties."
August looked around, smirked "No shit!" the rain was
peltering down harder than it had before. With his
"passenger" still sleeping he scooted off the parking lot
of the 7-11 and got himself some fresh hot coffee. In
line before him were two very pretty young ladies. He
smiled at them and they smiled back, semi flirting and
semi walking on dangerous waters...
Back out at his panel, Debra was moving, waking up some.
The Device was "off-line". It had a bad habit of doing
that--just shutting "whenever" the fuck it felt like it
with no warning. No matter, he had other measures to
ensure his delights. He scooted her about, smacked her
ass and fished out the ultimate device, the Convincer: a
stun gun/tazer. One application to her pert ass and she
settled right out. August fondled her ass, fingered her
hole and put her into a doggie-style position and banged
away at her for several minutes. He was not in a mood.
His mind was cluttered, being overrun with the past, the
Beginning, his future. The Device object, too, filled
nearly every nook & cranny of his mind, it had changed
him like nothing else had (or could.)
Returning to some composure he returned to his front
seat, clothed, and watched as rain clouds began to fade,
with one huge one lingering over in the Painted Desert
area. He spotted the two girls he had seen earlier (in
the 7-11). They made him smile. (in more ways than
one...) He pursed his lips, adjusted himself, farted,
gouged his slightly still aroused erection and
contemplated their fate.
The Device had returned to "I'm okay now and you can use
me" state. It irked August that the damn thing was so
quirky--unreliable. When it worked, great. But it's
quirky sudden "shut-down" was a pisser--a real pisser.
There had to be a way to fix that. He didn't pretend to
understand the mechanics of the Device, he dared not
tinker with it lest he foul it up completely. When it
worked, it worked well and was a wondrous device.
The two Subjects crossed his path and made for the
corner. His eyes followed them, drinking them in tightly
as they sashayed their way shoulder to shoulder, giggling
and being silly preteens.
*****
"Take off your shirts."
The girls' eyes widened in absolute fright. "Oh my God!"
uttered one.
The other girl was speechless and stared on in fright,
with added bits of horror and shock and confusion. August
leered at them, smiling, observing the pair, feasting on
them.
"Take off your shirts, NOW!" he said still being calm.
Both girls were able to look to one another, then, with
trembling hands they found themselves unable NOT to
comply with the command given to them. It was like their
hands were not their own. They couldn't stop themselves.
August smiled at watched in delirious anticipation as
each girl began the task of undressing. From under a wool
blanket concealing her Debra moaned. Neither "new" girl
heard or didn't pay attention. The Device was working
properly, but just in case, the stun gun/tazer was close
at hand.
A slight rainfall had begun again. With the top roof vent
open slightly the fresh air soothed him. "Acquiring" the
girls had been easy, well--with the help of the Device
naturally. They had just gotten to the corner and pressed
the button to enter safely into the crosswalk. August
zapped them from his sitting position in the panel and
re-directed them. As they approached he fully conquered
their young minds, capturing them and willing them as
his.
With the various programs of the Device August chose the
one that allowed the Subject(s) to Act, to be Aware, and
fully Comply. Anything else was curbed, Null & Void. To
act on their own without instruction would cause extreme
duress and stress within their minds.
It was a program that August had been able to put into
the Device himself, altering an original programming code
he deemed was most likely destined to acquire information
from "prisoners." August further deemed that the Device
GI Item 0110 was in essence something for Government
Operatives to use in Intelligence gather, Interrogation,
and etc.
Since falling into August's hands it had come to be used
for something else entirely. He smiled and sat back on
his heels, licking his lips and watching as Amanda and
Carol slipped off their shirts. Both girls were merely
twelve years young. Very pretty but not outstanding in
any way. Amanda had long curly brown hair just passed her
shoulders. Carol had short dark hair just to her ears.
Both wore a colony of earrings.
Amanda was a bit taller than best friend Carol. Carol had
wider hips and a firmer ass. Amanda had an inch more in
the titty department, but both were still firm in the "A"
cup division. Both were very pleasing to the eye, Amanda
with a long narrow face/jaw line while Carol had a near
perfect round face. Both were blue eyes and both were
helpless in their current dilemma.
Hearing a noise August peered out the closed curtain
separating the cab from the "dungeon of inequity" (cargo)
area of the '51 panel. It was only the beer truck
restocking the 7-11. He returned to face the two very
frightened and concerned young ladies. He himself was
still clothed--but not for long.
"Lose the bras." he said calmly.
The girls gulped and tried to wail in protest--but the
Device held them firm and they soon found themselves
complying.
Nice tits. Very nice. The nicest. Firm, round, supple,
and young. August fondled each one, tweaking the nipples
while the girls stared on in absolute disdain and utter
confusion. They couldn't move, barely could protest the
assault. August breathed heavily and stood up... Two
pairs of very pretty blue eyes stared as he stripped down
to his Birthday Suit. The girls' mouths hung open as they
were now presented with the ultimate horror--a nude man
inches from them. His cock stood out dramatically and was
glistening at the tip. Only Amanda had a brother, much
younger than she. She had seen her father (by accident)
nude a couple of times, so had Carol--seeing Amanda's
dad).
Both girls nodded their heads when asked if they were
virgins.
Both girls nodded their heads, too, when asked if they
masturbated.
Neither girl had really been "kissed" by a boy, but both
had held a boy's hand and felt the boy's "boner" against
her as they danced close. Both girls DID somewhat
curiously wonder what it would really be like to get
laid. Both girls farted, both had seen dogs humping, seen
a horse's long dick, and were slightly aware of how
people fucked.
August on his knees came up very close to the girls,
"Touch it." he told them. Neither moved. Using the Device
the girls got the "command" sent directly to them and
they were unable to deny--timid hands snaked out and
Amanda "touched" August's very manly schlong first.
He took her young hand and made her grip his dick, going
up and down the shaft and caressing the bulbous tip
before fondling his hairy balls. Carol began to weep.
Amanda held her tears in check and fondled August's balls
to his delight. He then had the trembling Carol have a
go.
Carol needed a little more "convincing" and so the
electrifying tazer came to be. Just one zolt of the
handheld object got Carol into gripping August's bone,
caressing it and carrying on as had Amanda.
"You two bitches ever KISS each other?"
The girls looked to him in utter shock and dismay.
"You two ever see each other NAKED?"
No, not really. Just in their undies.
August smiled, farted, massaged his balls and told them,
"Kiss." it took a moment for the command to sink in. He
didn't want them to KISS him, he wanted them to KISS each
other!
It was deplorable and horrible. But the command was sent
verbally as well as via the Device. Both girls faced one
another and leaned in, closing eyes and bringing their
young lips together. It was a brief encounter followed by
the command for "Frenching."
Tongues in the mouth, heads cocked, lips engulfing one
another--passion flames rising; it segued into having
each girl suckle the other's naked breasts--all the while
masturbating their Tormentor's schlong. The explosive
moment was coming--August had Amanda come down and
"French" kiss his cock. Again, she complied better than
Carol. Carol sat back and looked on in utter amazement.
Amanda swore that she had never given "head" before--but
she seemed like a natural. August lightly held her head
as she bobbed up and down sucking him.
Carol whined and begged, pleaded, and fussed. Cum oozed
out of Amanda's mouth, August's eyes fluttered as the BJ
had been pretty good. (like there was anything like a bad
blowjob?) Amanda spat most of the milky substance out,
retched, gagged, and made a horrible face of disgust
(distaste). August set his eyes onto Carol. Carol knew,
she wailed more and tried to back up and away.
"Take off your pants." August commanded of Amanda--while
Carol took her turn bobbing on August's schlong. Amanda
sat up on her knees and slowly worked them down, then
stood up and finished taking them to her ankles. Neither
girl still couldn't finger out how they were "complying"
with what they would normally not do for reals.
Having already fucked the delirious Debra still hidden
under the wool covers, cumming off into Amanda's mouth,
shooting another load (into Carol) just wasn't going to
happen--not right off. She sucked and sucked, power
stroked, nuzzled his tezzies and sucked them while Amanda
stood in her powder blue cotton panties with yellow
duckies on them.
He had Carol stand up and strip down to her panties, too.
Simple white briefs. August drank each girl in, breathing
hard and fondling himself before having Amanda turn about
and bend over. She complied, supporting herself at the
knees with clench hands. August slowly peeled her panties
down, slowly exposing her lovely-lovely ass.
He pressed his nose into her crack. Carol went aghast as
she stood close by watching. Soon his tongue was flicking
out licking her bum hole.
"Oh my God!" uttered Carol. Amanda clenched her pert
young ass and August tongue fucked her hole.
Timing is Everything
Chapter Three: Adventures
Amanda held friend Carol's legs back in a locked position
while sitting perched upon friend Carol's face. Friend
Carol had her tongue wickedly delving into the sensitive
recesses of friend Amanda's cunt. Both girls twitched as
they were so tantalized beyond their comprehension.
Between Carol's legs their shared Tormentor dug deeply
into Carol's innocent and very virginal cunny. His face
coated already in her essence he continued his frolic
until his cock demanded so much attention there was not
holding it back--he himself unable to withstand the
commands of his schlong.
Amanda winced and watched as August began penetrating
Carol's virginity. Carol underneath yelped in aghast and
her hot mournful breath seared up into Amanda's hotbox.
Carol latched onto Amanda's twat as her own cunt was
violated.
August slowly entered the young pre-teen, sinking himself
fully into her as he had previously Amanda. Again his
eyes fluttered and he was somewhat no longer in control
of his own body. Carol endured the violation and was at
the end unable to hold back the tide of orgasmic
emotions. Finger banging herself had never brought such
delights.
August's schlong was in mortal agony. Desensitized so to
speak. He assumed it was "just desserts" or some shit.
After a feverish fuck spree, shooting his cum deep inside
the distraught girl he pulled out and shot the remainder
onto the girl's quivering quim, belly, and chest. He then
had Amanda come down and lick the goo up, including from
his burning bone.
A bit of a rest was needed, he was virtually exhausted.
The girls continued their impromptu 69er, delighting him
on an esoteric level of eroticism. A sip of some strong
whiskey, a moist towelette to his bone and he came up
behind Amanda, parting her cheeks and addressing her corn
hole. Carol underneath in a swath of sex essence looked
on mournful. August began poking and gouging Amanda's
shit hole. Both she and Carol pulled the cheeks open and
August promptly sodomized the hole to his delight
(again). Carol detested licking Amanda's poop chute--
cleaning the hole of all the spent ooze from August's
schlong. She complied, though, as well as noshed on
August's fuzzies. It was all Auggie could do, he wanted
to do more but lacked the proper strength. Another sip of
whiskey and he secured the girls with handcuffs--easily
acquired at any 2nd hand downtown pawnshop.
To each he deeply kissed, Frenched, and caressed before
placing a gag into their mouths, then laid them out,
covering them with a wool blanket next to Debra. He then
dressed and exited the panel, fetching another cup of
strong 7-11 coffee, then moved the custom ride down a few
blocks to another convenience store and continued to wait
out the rain.
****
Getting lost was easy, he did it three times before
returning to the main passage way. He had to himself into
continuing with the romp, he had little information from
Charlie, and hadn't seen the old fart since entering the
pond.
To say he was confused was putting it lightly. He had no
idea what the fuck was going on or where the fuck he was.
"Follow the passages with the light."
The only light August had seen once coming up into the
subterranean cave were the odd phosphorous critters
living in the crinkly gray/green moss on the cavern
walls. It was damn cold about and there was an odd sort
of "smell" lingering in the still air.
He called out for Charlie and would have thought the old
son-of-a-bitch would have had since enough to wait. But
there was no sign of him. August was pissed and close to
jumping back into the water and returning from where he
had come.
But talking to himself--he determined that "I've come
this far."
So noted.
From the onset there were as many as six tunnels leading
off to God Knows Where. Only one had the living light.
His eyes needed a little time to adjust and he could see
that the "natural" light allowed him to move along the
narrow passage fairly easily.
To say it was spooky was an understatement. He called out
numerous times for the old ballplayer, but there was no
reply except for his own voice reverberating back to him
in an odd manner.
Not paying attention allowed for him to experience
adventure like he had never had before.
When realizing that he was no longer in a tunnel with the
natural living light, he stopped and turned back. The
rock wall itself seemed to be allowing some sort of hazy
glow to them but he wasn't sure if this was what Charlie
meant by "natural light" or not.
He decided to back up and try to retrace his steps.
This was futile attempt and panic set in--getting lost in
a subterranean cavern was NOT a good thing. "Stay to the
right." came to haunt him, too. Had he been "staying to
the right"? August couldn't remember. Now with him
backtracking, he needed to stay to the left?
This was definitely not a good thing.
Stumbling out into a dim open area August tried in vain
to see a "lighted" cave. Not finding one he strove to
relocate the water and return to the surface--this little
side trip adventure was getting a little too much to
bare.
Just then (naturally) he thought he saw a shadow moving
in one of the tunnels followed by what sounded like
footsteps.
"Charlie?" August called out.
There was no answer. August called out again, and again,
steadily moving towards the suspected tunnel He sighed
deeply and then held his breath, he heard distinctly
mumblings. Then he caught wind of something, it smelled
god-awful! There were small fragments of natural light
and light emitted from the wall-critters. Since he hadn't
seen any other tunnels with such he shuffled into the
inky darkness.
The tunnel got narrow damn quick, almost to a "close" but
then open enough to where there were some inches of space
for his shoulders to pass thru without scuffing. The
"smell" he had detected earlier was getting intense,
almost making his eyes water. The chill of the still air
was not kind, either, he wondered casually why old
Charlie had shucked his clothes, but--their clothes would
have been soaked to their skin and traipsing about in wet
garments would be just as bad. Soooooooo having dry
clothes to slip into once topside--seemed like a good
idea after all.
But what the fuck was all this about? Charlie hadn't
clued him in and it was pissing him off.
Suddenly the tunnel sort of stop. It ended. "Fuck!"
August bellowed. He snorted and couldn't believe his
luck. "CHARLIE!?" he yelled. He pounded the sides of the
small tunnel and was thankful he wasn't afraid of the
dark or small closed in places--although he was beginning
to get that "trapped in" feeling just the same. Turning
about he began to make his way back when something
grabbed him. Roughly. And roughly brought him thru am
unseen wall. Actually it was the "end" of the tunnel; it
was shrouded in a layer of that wall hugging crinkly moss
like a curtain.
Roughly he was thrown unkindly to the floor with a
tremendous thud. All around were creatures, creatures
like he had never seen before and never wanted to again.
They were tall, very tall, basketball player tall.
Shrouded they were in gray, totally gray with no visible
"arms" or "legs." Their heads were the only outstanding
feature--long narrow things, pale white to a hue of
almost dingy scummy yellow.
There were two humanoid eye sockets and no nose but a
long jutting jaw of which there were many-many rows of
yellowed sharp shark-like teeth. A wicked forked tongue
flirted about smacking the face as the creatures leered
at the lone naked human on the stone floor.
From about their heads were something like worms (or
snakes) all dancing wildly, hissing and drooling. August
gulped and tried pinching himself...this was NOT a good
thing.
The nightmare was real; however, one of the creatures
began swaying and from its sides came what August took to
be its "limbs." Long sinewy limbs with little skin, just
gray bone with drippings of a membrane-like structure.
The "smell" that August had detect earlier was from these
very creatures.
One of the other creatures began making odd "clicking"
clicking noises, another smacked its jaw open & closed,
another licked its furled back puckered lips. 'Oh shit,
you mother fuckers are gonna EAT me!' he whined to
himself. He could only assume that that was what had
happened to Charlie.
One of the creature with bony arms reached for August.
When he tried scooting back the creature quickly grabbed
him, holding him tight by the hair and yanking him up to
a standing position--his feet some inches off the ground.
Then--here's where it begins to get a little weird--
another creature began "fondling" his balls. August
didn't know what to make of it, it was an enormously
strange feeling. The creature fondling him was both
gentle and harsh--squeezing hard and then relaxing to
simply grope.
August didn't know what to think--this was totally knew.
He had read stuff about Indians and Natives doing strange
things to Missionaries--but this he had never heard of.
After some more fondling August was "positioned" unkindly
in a somewhat "doggie-style" position. 'Uh-oh!'
This was a little bit more than he bargained for. He
tried to resist but the creatures held him fast while one
began "examining" him like a proctologist. August tried
to clench and force back the intrusion but his ass was
spanked HARD, his balls tugged on HARD and then one of
the creatures simply locked its legs about his neck and
August found himself being violated.
There were as many as six creatures. They all took turns
butt fucking August. When one was "done" he came about
and crammed his ultra funky fuck stick into August's
mouth. August threw up. The creatures' schlongs were
long, nimble, and riddled with pockmarks as well as bumps
and scabs.
The hot gooey liquid that squirted into his mouth and yea
his throat caused him to violently heave. After the
creatures had all buggered him and shot another wad into
his gullet, they left him. August curled up into a fetal
position on the hard stone floor and wept.
****
His asshole was burning, his balls ached, he was sick to
his stomach and new that he would never ever be able to
get the taste of creature cock out of his mouth. The very
thought made him retch. After sometime on the floor he
got cold. "I'll be damned if I'm gonna die here." he
bitched. He still had no idea where Charlie was.
Slowly he pulled himself together and began crawling.
Being absolutely lost now he just hugged a wall and
crawled. His bowels emptied on their own and he continued
to retch every now and then; eventually he came to where
there was a breeze.
It was stale and was mixed; he smelled both staleness as
well as fresh salty air. His mind was befuddled, his
asshole reamed well. He felt the breeze after a time and
came yet again to a "dead-end." But this time he felt
around and found his hand scraping through a curtain of
moss.
On the other side--after choking on the scattered spores,
there was a HUGE cavern. Ice crystals hung from the high
ceiling, there was bright light from a HUGE cavern open
and there was daylight. Below was an inlet, a cove of
sorts. And a huge wooden ship! A path ran along a narrow
ledge upwards towards the apex of the ceiling. August was
sure he wasn't going that direction. He made his way
precariously down to the inlet beach.
The beach was littered with debris, mostly from the ship.
It was nestled right up against the shore with the rear
end still in the water. Waves crashed on the rocks
outside the huge cave and August assumed that ship
somehow got "pushed" into the cave.
The air was a little chilly and tasted salty. There was
also the heavy stench lingering and wafting about on the
air. August looked about and noticed something familiar.
He began running, "Charlie?" There was no movement and
before August reached the nude man the stench of death
and rum filled his nostrils.
Charlie was dead, arm draped over a barrel of pirate rum.
August hung his head. "Shit." he burbled. "Shit, piss,
fuck, goddamn, motherfucker!" He shook the nude old man
but there was no response, his eyes were glazed open but
there seemed to be a smile on his lips--well, he died
happy.
August stepped back and sat on a beach boulder. He
admired the ship, it was a big fucker. A little fucked
up, broken mast, a huge gaping hole on the starboard
side. There didn't seem to be anybody about, though; he
looked. He searched, called out, and picked thru the
various scattered debris.
He didn't see much of any interest until coming to a
craggy outcropping of rocks stretching out into the cove.
Here there was a small cave and within a few chests.
Pirate chests. A couple of them were opened with their
contents spilled about.
Gold coins.
August nearly shit himself.
Which was not so hard to do with his bleeding well-fucked
asshole.
He grabbed up a handful of the coins and checked them,
recalling the one that Charlie Dugout had showed him.
They were the same.
There wasn't much in the way of "clothes" to be had, but
ripping some sailcloth made an excellent "booty" bag. He
could only carry so much, thought carefully how this was
actually going to work; could he safely return the way he
had come? Get passed those butt fucking creatures,
navigate the tunnels, find the subterranean pool and swim
back UP to the surface?
Of course, there WAS this big freakin' open cave
entrance.
There seemed to be sufficient daylight and there was a
swallow area... He had several-several handfuls of gold
coins. No weapons and no clothes. The water was at first
a little warm. But as he moved out around the rocks and
behind the great pirate ship--the water got a little
chilly. His balls and cock shriveled up and he got a
little nervous about the situation. His feet found hard
sharp rocks and twice he fell.
At length he just began swimming.
It was easier although the water threatened to not only
chill him to the bone but to drown him. The crashing
waves from the ocean beyond didn't reach to cave entrance
but sent their rippling waves to thwart his attempts to
free himself from the cave.
A big wave came crashing over some nearby rocks, he was
in DEEP water and floundering, swallowing salty seawater
and scarcely able to keep afloat. ('specially with a huge
sack of gold coins weighing him down.)
He couldn't see any shore but knew that there was one.
The more he tried to get somewhere a wave ripple came and
surged him someplace else. This simply wasn't working. He
tried to make back to the cave--which wasn't too hard to
do, but the huge waves only strove to thwart that action,
too.
At length he kissed the rear of the great ship--with a
tremendous thud. He nearly lost consciousness. He DID
lose his cargo, the precious much sought after gold
coins. Before he could make a feeble dive attempt a surge
wave sucked him out, nearly drowned him and very nearly
killed him.
In a panic he swam to make for some jutting rocks,
finding where the pirate ship had been gouged. For his
troubles in all he did find a few coins in the nooks and
crannies.
He was once more sucked out into the cave entrance cove
before finally sending him somewhat violently into one
wave after another.
Consciousness evaded him and he awoke sometime later on a
sandy beach. He had a throbbing headache, a lungful of
seawater, froze to the bone, his asshole smart, and
utterly lost.
It was still daylight, but he feared he was going to get
caught out in the middle of wherever the hell he was butt
naked and seriously catch some sort of flu. His legs hurt
terribly and it was some doing just to stand. His gold
was gone, but he had clutched in his fucked up hands some
of the coins from the rocks. It wasn't much but he wasn't
going back out to recover. Fuck it. The beach led up to a
rolling hill of lush green grass. It seemed like as good
as place as any--to start his search. Where he was he
didn't know, Charlie hadn't given him a lot of
information--but he was beginning to accept that he was
in someplace new.
He just hoped that there he wouldn't be encountering any
more of those creatures! The wind off of the sea bit into
his tender naked skin, his feet and hands and shins were
all skint up, the salt water seemed to have helped some.
Some.
The grass he found was sweet and he ate some of it. At
the top of the first hill--he found another hill.
Followed by another. Turning about he could look down
some hundreds of feet to see the beach below and the
rocky outcropping he had escaped from.
There was a sort of sinking feeling--he had no idea where
the fuck he was, but he was pretty certain that he wasn't
in the Utah--Four Corners area anymore. With his energy
levels down, hungry, asshole smarting, he stumbled along
the waist high grass unawares of much of the surrounding
territory--or he would have noticed it "changed."
When his legs finally gave out he fell. Naturally. He
curled up and waited for death, clutching the few coins
that he had managed to snag and keep hold of.
Darkness didn't come. Nor did Death. It got a little
colder and breezier, but that was about all. It was only
when something again rustled in the grasses surrounding
him did he bolt upright and begin to move again--he
couldn't take another butt fucking (or forced cock
sucking.)
It seemed as though his legs were on fire, or stepping on
lava stones that were. The breeze had settled down to
something like a searing broil. The air was stale with
mixtures of sweetness. His mind was confused, body
wracked with various pains, hungry, and his asshole still
hurt, too.
But there was this dirt road. A well used road. He came
stumbling out of the waist high grass to the dirt road
and looked left and right. To the far right were some
distant mountains, rustic with no snowcaps. There was
rugged desertscape all around save for what lay behind
him, and out the left there did seem to be some
buildings.
Now he wished for some darkness to serve as cover--he was
raw and butt bare assed naked. After a few minutes of
rest he struck out for the buildings. Presently he came
upon an object, a vehicle. It was off the road with two
peoples in it. Actually, one was sitting while the other
was a passenger standing with his willy out peeing.
However, as August neared, he couldn't see either one
moving or noticing a naked man approaching. The jeep was
US Gov but not discernible what branch. The "driver" was
in simple green camouflaged clothing, the other was an
officer of some type, beer gut, brown uniform.
His willy was out but that was all, August walked right
up and saw that the man had indeed "peed", there was a
puddle. But, for some fucked up reason--the man seemed to
be "frozen." So did the driver.
August wavered his hand before the two, touched them with
poking his finger at them, yelled into their ears, and
finally slapped the officer's face.
There was no reaction whatsoever.
August didn't know what to make of it--if anything. This
was as strange as his horrible experience in the
subterranean tunnels. He shrugged them off and continued
walking.
It was a good walk. He had to stop a few times to let his
legs rest. He noticed no progression of time--er, that is
to say that what he took to be time itself didn't seem
right. There were no clouds in the sky, and at least the
sky was back to its normal hue of sky blue--and not that
crazy orange crap.
There came to a field of sorts, desert on one side of the
road and some sort of agricultural action on the other. A
man on a tractor was out in the middle of the
agricultural side. There seemed to be patches of green
stuff here and there with a few trees lining the ends.
Neither the man or the tractor seemed to be moving.
August hollered at the man and then threw a dirt clod.
The man remained sitting on the tractor, there was not
even any noise from the tractor. August fingered his ear,
stared a bit longer, peed and farted and then moved on to
the buildings.
US GOVERNMENT
Department of Agriculture
There were other words and numbers and encrypted crap
August didn't know what their meaning was. Nor did he
care. The sign was posted on a bar gate, there was a
gatehouse with two men inside. Armed men in cammys.
August walked nakedly up to them, waved, waggled his
schlong, flipped them off, then stepped on by the gate
and continued on his way.
What was going on he had no idea.
In most respects it looked like some sort of agricultural
station out in the middle of some desert, government run.
There were a few peoples standing around, some in
civilian clothes, others in various military clothing.
August waved to the all, waggled his wiener and then
moved on.
He moved into one of the buildings, no one paid him any
attention--the all appeared to be stunned in place. He
couldn't figure it. None of this made any sense. He was
getting pissed. He was tired, hungry, asshole still
smarting, and very confused. He casually wondered if
maybe somewhere along the way he had actually died or
clunked his head and put himself into some sort of coma.
Maybe none of this was real at all!
He pinched himself--it hurt. He smacked a pencil neck
geek sitting at his desk, he felt the slap. From a water
cooler he got some water. There were some donuts nearby
and he scarfed them down. Seeing hanging on a door a
pressed uniform he helped himself--but not before sitting
in on Ms. Buxly.
Ms. Buxly was tall--short tight black knit skit, white
frilly blouse, dark blond hair up in a bun, mid 30s. She
was a civilian, she had a memo pad in hand and was in the
middle of writing. A tall man in a press sharp dark green
uniform with "eagles" on the lapels seemed to be in the
middle of speaking. Everyone in the room was absolutely
still.
August came about the woman and felt of her breasts, then
her ass.
There was no noticeable reaction from her.
August smiled, his asshole quench tight but his cock and
balls surged to life. He lifted the woman's skirt and
checked her out, lowering her bikini style white panties.
There was still no reaction from the woman--soooooo
Over a nearby desk he led the woman, finding that he
could move her, bend her, move her arms and legs--but she
just didn't seem to be aware of it, nor anyone else.
August didn't know what the fuck was happening--but he
was going to go with it. The soft panties were lowered
down and the skirt undone and pulled up. She herself was
bent over the desk and August--like those creatures in
the tunnels--had his way with her. Her asshole was
deliciously TIGHT, his cock rock hard. He poked away and
finally breached the rim and slid his organ into her
backdoor and pumped steadily for several minutes.
He didn't care if this was coma induced, a dream, a
fantasy, or what--he pumped the bitch and pumped until he
got his nut(s) off and then some. He spanked her ass and
filled her corn hole until his legs wobbled and he had to
pull out and lean against the cubicle wall.
He watch his essence ooze out of the woman's asshole, he
fondled his balls and tried in vain to figure this all
out. It only gave him a headache, he shook his head,
farted big and yawned. He was tired, very tired. And
still slightly horny. The woman was "positioned" onto the
desk, skirt hiked all the way up, on her back, legs up
and out and August Moone between her legs and pumping her
pussy like it was his last pussy.
When done with her, he stuffed her panties up her
asshole--for no other reason than "just fucking because!"
then placed back to where she was at what she was doing--
it would only further drive her crazy.
He himself rambled about the structure, waving his hand,
waggling his bare-naked gooey cock, farting, poking
people--but no one moved.
He found a lunchroom and it was wondrous.
Food and drink. Although there was a slight hang-up of
not having any money--he pilfered the pockets of the non-
moving personnel and then helped himself.
After a suitable noshing in the lunch room/cafeteria he
took a snooze on a small love seat.
His sleep was disturbed by the nightmare--of being
buggered by the creatures. He awoke with a serious
startle, almost seeing the creatures in the small lunch
room, coming out him with their bony schlongs and arms
reach for him, drooling and gnashing their teeth.
In a dire panic he nearly ran out of the building, he did
manage to snag the clothing he had seen and try them on.
They weren't a good fit and he didn't have any shoes, but
clothes were clothes. If--IF everyone did begin moving
about, if--IF this strange goofy fucking place returned
to Normal then he would be better off Clothed rather than
butt naked. Clothed he might be able to concoct some
fucked up story--butt bare assed naked? Well, they
wouldn't even listen to him--they'd just hustle his naked
ass off to a loony ward and lose the key.
Charlie Dugout. August kicked the water cooler, then
kicked the door and bitched out loud. What an adventure!
It would be better if the motherfucker would make some
motherfucking sense! For not other reason than "just
because" he scuffled over to an adjacent building. There
was nothing there but more of the same from the second
building. But he was directed to check out the two men in
civy clothes. He took them to be Feds, or some branch
like that, CIA, National Security, some shitty
organization like that. They were at a door marked
JANITOR'S CLOSET. Peering inside August saw that indeed
it was a janitor's closet having all the right equipment.
But what were two Suits interested in a janitor's closet?
August had seen a movie once, very similar. He licked his
lips and moved the men out of the way and stepped passed
them. He checked them very carefully, noting that like
the woman he had just bagged, they weren't breathing
either.
Inside the small closet August looked about, there was a
single light dangling from the ceiling and an assortment
of janitor's stuff all about the walls on racks in
perfect condition.
Too perfect. Checking the mop in the yellow mop bucket,
it wasn't even wet or "used." Slowly and timidly he began
pulling on brooms and tools hanging on the wall--suddenly
he found the one.
There was a sound and serious movement and the floor
began dropping. "Holy sheeeeeeeeeeeee-it!" August
bellowed.
The walls and ceiling remained as they were, just the
floor dropped.
How far he dropped he wasn't sure. What he wanted to know
mostly was what the FUCK was he getting himself into--and
could he get out of it?
When the ride stopped a door automatically opened.
Carefully he poked his head out. People were standing in
the hall--not moving. Using some stealth he moved down
the hall, just for a poke here and there--er, being
nosey.
"Some operation for being just an "agricultural"
operation!" he noted to himself.
Most of the rooms he poked his nose in, any cute females
he abruptly fondled, pulled their panties down and
fingered them, laid them out on the floor and doinked
them good and proper. He found some other clothing that
fit a little better, including shoes. He snagged a laptop
computer and some other doodads that if he EVER got back
to wherever the hell he came from--he might be able to
add to the small pithy amount of gold coins he still had
and set himself up for a few years. Down the end of a
long hall he came to where a Suit and a military man were
at one of those "special doors." They were in the process
of operating a security console and there was a "green"
light on. The door was partially whisked open. August
again moved the two and made his way in.
It was a laboratory of some sort, electronic equipment
and whatnot.
August had no idea.
Another laptop and various electronic components stuffed
into a ditty bag then he was back the way he had come.
Which was no problem, thankfully. He had had enough
"adventure". It still gnawed at him, Where the FUCK was
he? He had no idea. He carried his booty out to the open
area and back towards the road he had come in on. It was
here he noted the sky had changed color; it was now a
darker blue, the "time" felt about right, early evening.
As he pissed on a Suit's leg--for the hell of it--he
heard something.
It took a moment to recognize it--it was the sound of a
tractor.
He heard the tractor, from out in the field.
He gulped. There was a windmill and it began to turn.
Other noises began to come to him and panic seriously set
fire to his feet--he boogied quickly out of sight behind
some buildings then out to the road running as fast as he
could.
Hiding in the grass he watched the tractor moving along
field small dust clouds coming up from its wheels. The
jeep alongside the road moved on, clouds came and there
was a strange sensation enveloping August. He didn't
understand it--and wasn't sure if he wanted to.
His choices, to go back the way he had come thru the cave
and tunnels, or finger out where he was here. The dirt
road had to come from somewhere. Looking down it he saw
that it stretched out thru some hills. It seemed as
though darkness would not be too far along in coming. He
could wait until dark to start moving again.
There suddenly was siren blaring and August looked to the
direction of the government installation. "Uh-oh." the
proverbial jig was up. He patted his booty, contemplated,
re-thought and re-considered.
Timing is Everything
Chapter Four: Roundabout Surprises
Thoughtfully he tugged on his chin, rubbed his aching-
aching (but well satisfied) schlong. Amanda was asleep up
against Debra, Carol was awake, contemplating her fate.
Drops of rainwater dripped in through the open vent
topside, a cool swath of fresh air drifted in; it felt
good to be under the wool blanket. He stifled a yawn but
farted loudly. A nice stretch and he felt better. The air
was a little soiled but quickly refreshed by mother
nature.
Carol looked to her Tormentor. August offered a meager
smile. She gulped and pursed her lips. "What?" he asked
of her sensing she was sending him a question of some
sort. She merely shrugged and swallowed a hard lump.
August rubbed his organ and stifled another yawn. The
rain suddenly quit and he heard only the drip-drip-drip
from the trees he had parked under. They had moved aways
out of the city and into a KOA (KampGrounds of America.)
more privacy and such. He still hadn't figured what had
brought him back to his city. He knew that it was a
Beginning, of sorts, but...
"I-I have to pee." murmured Carol.
August nodded then moved to open the custom side door and
peer out. He had parked with the door opening to the
forest. There were only a few other campers in the
expensive park and he doubted anyone was out for a romp
in the wet surrounding forest.
He motioned for the girl, mindful of the Device Item 0110
in the "shut-down" mode. The preteen was acting on her
own, but had been schooled well in the fact that her
Tormentor could torment her young body badly without the
Device.
For now she would mind her p's & q's.
Unsecured the girl came August, he helped her out butt
bare assed naked to stand next to the fence enclosing the
kampground. "Go ahead." he told her. Carol looked
somewhat disappointed, she would have naturally preferred
a structure of some sort. She squatted and seconds later
began relieving herself. August stood right before her
with his schlong in her face. "Suck it." August commanded
her.
The girl reached up and gripped his bone and began
sucking while she peed. His hardness worked inside her
young mouth, then outside against her face. She had
finished peeing but August was only beginning.
The girl lay into the open panel while August "mounted"
her from behind, his aching bone slamming up into her
backdoor. Amanda and Debra had awakened at the
"freshness" of air coming through the now well opened
side door. Amanda watched as her best friend was once
more buggered.
Carol gripped the carpet fibers and got rug burns on her
chest and face. Amanda was directed to come forth and
position herself for a cunt munch; best friend Carol
taking up the cause to munch her friend's twat. Debra
curled up in the corner she was in more so and watched
the absolute horror in absolute disdain.
August slammed his way along until finally unleashing a
tremendous load of spunk. His eyes fluttered, balls
cinched up tight against the girl's body, cock exploding
deep within her anal tract. He caressed/slapped/spanked
her ass during his cock's "cool down" period, sighed
deeply with great relief and pulled free.
Again he slapped her ass with his schlong and had her
move on back into the panel where she belonged. He wasn't
through with her, Amanda, or Debra--not just yet.
He smelled campfires and heard voices singing, peeking
around the corner of his sweet ride he could just see
through the boughs of the pines campers nestled nicely
some ways away. No one was close to him and he plopped
down on the sill of the open side door massaging his
aching bone.
"Anyone ELSE need to pee?" August asked.
No one answered, he looked them over; the girls huddled
to one another and August let them be. For now. He smiled
and then doled out the fast food he had gotten before
leaving the city limits. He made himself comfortable
sitting on the floor of the truck, back against the cab
seat watching the girls.
He checked over the Device, over the years since it had
been in his possession he had learned every so often a
new feature. It had been awhile since his last
"discovery." There was still annoyance at the fact that a
good deal of the Device's abilities were too heavily
encrypted or "hidden". But, those things that the Device
DID do--well, that helped make up for the failings. He
still would prefer absolute assurances from the
government item; it's sudden "shut-down" without notice
was a pisser. There had to be a reason. There had to be a
reason for it all. Somewhere, out there, he felt that
there WAS a reason--or at the very least an answer.
Occasionally he considered trekking out the way he had
first originally came into "acquiring" the government
device. But there were no assurances that that trek would
prove useful. (his asshole still puckered up tight every
now and then at the thought of re-encountering those
tunnel creatures...)
*****
Tunnel creatures, the pirate ship, Charlie Dugout, the
desert, the government installation--all filled his mind.
The Device, too. When darkness had settled he had
ventured out along the road, blisters were quick in
coming to his still aching on-fire feet--he had no socks
on and so the military style boots were causing some
problems. The camouflaged uniform was a size or two too
big and scratching, he had no proper underclothing, and
his mind was abso-tively confused.
None of this shit made sense.
He had watched a lot of science fiction and fantasy crap
in his time, but couldn't recall anything like this. He
guessed what his problem was trying in his mind to
separate those sci-fi programs from reality--what was
Hollywood shit and what was real!
His "booty" began to get heavy, he got cold and hungry.
His mind was filled with Charlie and the pirate ship,
being sodomized by those strange creatures--none of it
made sense. He recalled Charlie, he recalled Mr. Peter's.
He recalled burning rubber to beat it up to Mexican Hat
to go on some wild assed adventure to secure more of
those strange gold coins.
Maybe--maybe he had wrecked somewhere along the way? He
knew the wrecker had gotten a little squirrelly coming
down the Pass into Utah, maybe he had wrecked after all--
maybe he was still sprawled out on the side of the road
or in a hospital somewhere?
This didn't sit with him well. From what he knew about
comas and people in dire extreme situations that were
dream-like, no one ever reported how very REAL their
experience seemed to be. They talked about "seeing a
bright light, meeting Jesus, meeting Satan, old friends &
relatives." but from August's perspective--his experience
was too real--he could feel everything, sense, smell, and
taste. At length he came up between the hill pass. The
road was still gravely. Behind him he still could hear
the agricultural installation with a blaring horn. He
also noted some vehicle tearing its way up the road.
August quickly ducked in among the boulders alongside the
road and the jeep raced by.
When after the dust had settled August stepped out and
checked for safety and then continued onward. The road
flattened out at the top of the pass. The sky was dark as
pitch, no stars. Which was odd, he knew that once a
person was out of the "city" and out into the countryside
one could see all the stars he wanted.
There were none here.
The air was kind of stale and all was quiet. An
immeasurable amount of spookiness settled within his soul
and quickly did he begin moving.
At length he noted that he was on a decline, the road
from the pass had topped the hill pass and was now going
down. Faintly he saw what he took to be lights far away.
He had to rest several times, his legs and feet were in
incredible amounts of pain and discomfort.
With extreme exhaustion plaguing him he had no choice but
to chill out along side the road (hidden) in among the
rocks and seek some well needed snoozing.
A good rest was interrupted by a sudden shrill voice. It
startled the tired out (and confused) August. He awoke
scrambling to see what had awoke him--only to see a large
black bird sitting perched upon a nearby boulder.
Casually August flipped the bird off and the bird flapped
off.
It was morning. There was no "sun" per se, but it was at
least light. There was no breeze and no discernible
temperature--he supposed that it was just moderate.
Paying some attention to the sky--it wasn't orange, but
not quite "blue", either--it was like the sun setting
with a sky full of wispy clouds. (or the sun rising.) He
didn't know if this was significant or what. He shrugged
it off and wished he would have snagged some food and
drink while he was pilfering that governmental
installation.
Slowly he began trudging down the road, it leveled out
and once more he could see buildings in his distance.
Thick waist high grasses to his left which segued to
ankle high and then to just sand. On his right was
desertscape that emptied into plowed land.
Plowed land!?
He got a very creepy feeling. Shirked it and began
increasing his pace. He couldn't rightly tell what
exactly was supposed to be growing out in the plowed
area, he saw no tractor(s), though. But did see a guard
gate, guard tower, and a windmill.
Part of him tried to rationalize that this was merely
"another" governmental installation. Yeah, that was it--
just another agricultural department plot of land!
He felt elated with that notion and kept to one side of
the road, trying to keep concealed as much as possible.
But he was basically out in the open anyways. He felt
pretty good about his notion, regardless--at the "other"
installation there hadn't been any huge towering guard
towers.
Er, at least he didn't believe so.
Slowly he advanced, noting how still and quiet everything
was. That unnerved him. Scanning the area all around he
so noted the absolute lack of anyone present. "Uh-oh."
He held his last position of cover before waltzing out
into very absolute exposure. There was no one about. No
one in the guard tower, no one at the guard station, no
one in the installation and no one out in the field. He
gulped and licked his lips, tried to settle himself and
move on.
There WAS no one at the guard house, looking into the
compound there was no one about at all. This was not
good. Or was it? He didn't know. It made him nervous, he
knew that. No vehicles about, either. Nothing but the
buildings. Was there a significance to this?
He did make note of a building--it seemed all too
familiar. He gulped and made for it, his legs almost
buckling as he noted the building's number G1-R1 Building
1A.
He remembered it as one before at the other place.
This wasn't good.
Inside there was the water cooler, the desks, the
cubicles. Just no peoples. The donut box was there with
the "missing" donuts he had scarffed down earlier.
He didn't know how, or why, or how--but he was back where
he had been before.
But how?
He prowled around, wondering if ALL governmental
installations were the same? That could be it, yeah--
sure!
Naw
He sighed, he was back in the same place as he had
started from.
Only now, there was no people, no bitches to scrog! Once
more he raided the lunch room, having no money to acquire
he just beat the crap out of the machines until he got
what he wanted. Which was some unappetizing delights. The
sandwiches, cookies, chips, and even the sodas were all
kind of--flat.
Scratching his head he sat down and tried to think.
The burgeoning other choice-option was naturally to go
back to the pirate cove, deal with the tunnel bandits,
and swim UP to where he had started. That was a long
ways. And the propensity of getting lost was highly
probable. But then--this place was no prize--he was
getting NO PLACE fast!
Now it gets weird(er):
With nothing coming to mind clearly he left the building
and returned to the road that led "out", as before. If he
could find the path he had come in on the first time then
he would buck up and certainly make his way back the LONG
way through the tunnels and all and get the fuck back
home.
He still wondered if this was a dream. He didn't know. He
couldn't tell. It was like--how do you know if your
guacamole has gone bad? How could you tell? He motivated
himself onward searching for that place he had come out
of through the grass, peering over the grass-dunes to the
sea--but noting that he couldn't actually see the sea--
and had to wonder even more so what the fuck that was all
about
He had a bazillion questions with no answers. When he
noted that he was getting closer and closer to the hill
pass (as before) and farther from the government land he
stopped. He had gone too far. He had to back up and
search harder, risk going out into the grass and getting
his ass lost.
But he figured that the grass-dune-hills would eventually
lead him to the beachhead, he faced the direction and
sighed--"Charlie-Charlie-Charlie, what the FUCK have you
gotten me into!?"
"Me sorry laddie, if'in I'd a-told you all that stuff
about parallel universes and shit like that, why, you
wouldna come, now would ya!?"
August whirled around and standing there in the middle of
the dirt road, still naked, was Charlie Dugout.
"CHARLIE!" bellowed August. He ran to greet the man--and
went virtually right thru him.
August stumbled, caught himself and stared at the naked
man.
He couldn't rightly see thru the old fart but faintly.
"I-I-I---"
"I know, lad, you donna unnnerstand." spoke Charlie
softly. "Well, quite frankly, lad, neither do I!"
Together they sat down in the grass, the old man's eyes
were glassy and he stared off quiet often. He recalled
merely finding the cask of ancient well aged rum washed
ashore. It hadn't been there on his previous visits.
"How many times have you been here?" August asked.
"Oh, a few times." he answered. He seemed lost and
thought and August was just lost.
"You, uh, ever "encounter" anyone while on your visits?"
August asked sheepishly and wonderingly.
"Oh, I see you met them!" Charlie jeered and chuckled.
August's asshole clenched up again and didn't relish the
thought of making a return trip.
The air was still and quiet. August munched on some of
the grass, it was tasteless. He recalled how earlier it
had actually tasted sweet.
"Sooooo, where IS this place?"
"Don't rightly know." then, "Someplace for sure--like I's
said before, a Sometimes Place." that didn't make any
sense and August was having enough of it.
Charlie leaned back, hands behind his head and laid out
on the grass. August settled his rage and tried to think
clearly.
"I saw people, they weren't moving, there's a place--"
"Aye, one's time I came up from the cave and ran smack
dab in the middle of an Indian massacre. Lordy-lordy it
was rough."
"Indians!?" quipped August, "Here?"
"Aye, lad, here and plenty pissed off, too!"
August didn't know what to believe, think, or --
"And once I was here, just topped the first hill down
there when a big ole twister came up--nearly sucked me
off! I's dove back into the water damn quick and waited
it out!"
"I's got to figuring that this 'ere place, likes I said,
is a Sometimes Place, it--it moves about and isn't always
the same."
"Something like a parallel universe?" it was as good as
any statement he could come up with.
"Yeah, I reckon, I don't know much about them sort of
things," Charlie continued, "buts like I's said, this is
only a Sometimes Place, sometimes it's what you know and
sometimes it ain't. Sometimes it's as real as you and me,
and sometimes its just beyond our comprehension."
August licked his lips and tried to conjure up some logic
thought to all this. "Me thinks its something like a
transition world."
Now what the hell was that?
"Them pesky crafty Cliff Dwellers knew about it I'm
sure."
"Cliff Dwellers? You mean the Anasazi?"
"Aye, them fellers had a way of escaping' their enemies."
"How?"
"Don't rightly know that for sure, but they had a way,
creatin' all them thar doors I've found. In them thar
caves of theirs they've got them holes in the ground,
dead center they be, black as tar pitch and it's said
that was how they moved from place to place not in this
place."
The old man was rambling again, not making much sense. As
much science fiction and fantasy bullshit he watched,
August couldn't make sense of it regardless.
"Sooooo, this is a parallel universe of some kind?"
"Maybe, a transition world more 'n likely."
"What does that mean?"
"Well sir, a transition between worlds!" he said sitting
up and bringing his long leathery arms about his naked
knees.
A transition between worlds. Hmmmmm
"Sooooo, why couldn't I talk to those people, they didn't
see me, they weren't moving--"
"You were out of sync, boy."
"Now what do you mean?"
"Well, not quite sure about that, but you were comin'
from one world into theirs, and you just weren't in sync
with the time element."
That made sense--sort of. When Time HAD caught up with
him, he had heard the tractor, the peoples' voices, all
of it.
He still had questions. A breeze came up and there was a
curious whine in August's ear. His stomach growled and
asshole (still) clench tight. He smelled an ocean breeze
and heard insects buzzing. Off in the distance he heard
what sounded like--a tractor.
Charlie, though, seemed oblivious to it. He sat staring
outward towards the still yet unseen sea.
"Soooo, I-I thought you were dead."
"Was." Charlie said, "And still am, I suppose."
"Soooo, yer a ghost?"
Charlie furled his lips, scratched his chin, squinted his
eyes and drew in his breath, letting it out slowly. "I
guess." then, "I's remember getting that cask open and
having myself a fill."
"Then what happened?"
"Don't know."
"What do you remember AFTER?"
Charlie was silent for a long time. The breeze stiffened
and he seemed to have all the appearances of sadness.
Then, "Well, son--I saw my life, a sort of repeat of what
I had done, and hadn't done."
"The girls I loved, the men I cheated.
The cars I had, the war I was in, my career in the big
leagues, and roaming the desert. It wasn't a long life,
and not very fulfilling, either." he stopped at that and
looked even more sadder than before.
"Carpa diem, quam minimum credula prstero."
August stared at him with a blank expression. 'Huh?'
Charlie smiled and chuckled, "Seize the day, laddy, from
the Latin; seize the day, live for the day, never
despair."
August didn't know what to say. What WAS there to say. He
felt somewhat embarrassed, August had thought Charlie was
just some old washed up ballplayer turned washed up
(dead) prospector. Now he was spouting words of wisdom
from Latin!
"If'in you donna wanna spend yer life goin' back an'
forth 'ere ye best git on yer way." Charlie spat.
August had that inclination, but he, too, wanted to stay-
-and chat with Charlie.
"Uh, you coming?" he asked a stupid question.
"Don't think so, boy." Charlie said in a low voice. "I
think's I'm dead, right?"
August gulped and nodded his head.
"This place is gonna change again real soon, you might
wind up where you want, in the middle of a desert, in the
middle of the dern ocean!"
August didn't like that notion.
"Me's I guess I'm gonna just stay put."
"I-I could stay with you."
"Naw, you better git movin', go backs the way you come."
August stood, gulped and felt nervous. All around he did
note something happening, just what he wasn't sure--the
change?
"What changes this place? Why is this place only a
sometimes place?"
"You got more questions than I gots answers, boy!"
spouted Charlie.
"I-I'm just trying to get a clear picture, that's all."
"Taint no damn clear picture, boy!" shouted Charlie. The
naked old man stood and looked kinda pissed off. "Likes I
said, this place is just a sometimes place, it changes
cause it wants to, taint no fuckin' reason for it, not
for us humans (alive OR dead) no how. It just happens."
They stood they for a few minutes, noises of the nature
and manmade kind began to come louder and more clearer.
The breeze stiffened and the crash of distant waves
echoed about them.
"You best get a move on." Charlie said in a calmer voice.
"What's going to happen to you, Charlie?"
"I don't know, August, I don't know."
August didn't know what to say (or do). And he noted that
it was the first time Charlie had said his name. He
waited a moment, then another before sashaying down the
small grassy-dune hill, up the other and down to the
beach. At the top of the second hill looking down to the
beach August paused to look back.
Charlie was still sitting there, he waved and August
traipsed on down the hill to the beach.
Timing is Everything
Chapter Five: Little Victories
The mommy was cute, so were the three kids in tow with
her. With the departure of the rain August scooted along
south out of the city and slid into reststop along the
interstate. It was here he deposited his first passenger,
Debra--this after a rough round of doinking, spanking,
and showering her with his pee. With the Device Item 0110
he zapped her mind, obliterating (hopefully) her memories
of her abduction.
It was the middle of the night, the air chilly but she
would be alright. There were a few long haul truckers
parked, some huge RVs so she would seek shelter from
them; only remembering being abducted and sexually
fulfilled over and over again.
Just before dawn at the reststop outside of Phoenix
August released Carol and Amanda--after fucking them,
making them clean each other's gooey spunk filled
assholes, spank and pee on each other. Their minds, like
Debra's before them, were wiped of August's memory--only
the dire circumstances of what had happened to them
remained.
He didn't go into Phoenix but took a small highway over
to a larger highway and back up to I-40. By early mid-
morning he was back in Flagstaff.
By noon the news of the "passengers" was big. The weather
was easing and a commercial on the radio caught August's
attention. A class reunion. A high school class reunion,
celebrating it's 20 years. His high school.
August set back in his seat. Now he understood, in part;
why he was back in Flagstaff. It wasn't totally clear,
but he assumed that his subconscious had driven him to
return to his roots. But why? Or was there the need for a
reasoning?
He hadn't been in Flagstaff in years. Bad memories, good
memories. A beginning, but no end. Perhaps that was it, a
return to somehow "end" what had begun. But that only
returned to his original confusion--the end of what? It
wasn't like he had had a complicated life filled with
many jobs, adventures. He had gone out of the country,
hadn't become successful, hadn't made any mark that would
be memorable. But a notion came to him. He hadn't made
his mark, that was true--however; there was always time
to do so. He smiled and got a raging boner:
Leigh Anne Sally Anne Julie Kim Lee Ann Tammy Leeanne
Denise Carla Wendy Teresa Kim C Tami Lisa Mary Vicky
Shawnra Leisha Donna Christine Trela Claudia Stephanie
Brenda
24 girls twenty-four wonderful girls 24 delicious
teenagers
Twenty-four girls who seldom acknowledged his existence.
Some did, but none held his hand, kissed him, danced with
him, went out with him. None were aware of how many times
he had jerked off to them, stalked them, spied on them,
desired to fuck their brains out!
Course, now, though--they were all 20 years older. He was
only mildly interested in them now. But, still was! Still
for just plain fucking because--because he hadn't been
able to bag them back then. Now with the Device--the
possibility was likely that he would have each of those
bitches naked, legs up, and screaming his name.
The reunion would be at the local upscale Holiday Inn; to
be held in the upcoming month. August wrinkled his
nostrils; 'A month, a whole fucking month.' what was he
to do until then?
The woman was cute, so were the three kiddies in tow with
her. He firstly noticed the woman's ass, then the kiddies
one-two-three, the basket of groceries, and the size of
the car; a newer model subcompact. Kinda small. The woman
was tall, too. And a red head, short hair, thin build,
solid 32 B cup, firm tight ass in Jordace jeans.
August got a rise in his jeans...
The Device seemed to be working well enough, even better
than expected. But he still doubted it, it had failed him
in the past at inopportune times, it was somewhat
unreliable. When it worked, great-fine-wonderful. Its
powers and abilities were astounding and unmatched. But
that lingering hangup of sudden shut-down without notice-
-not a good thing.
Without a schematic or a clear cut insight on the inner
workings of the Device, he didn't know its power source.
He had no clear cut idea just WHY the fuck it did that or
any idea of how to stop it from happening. It shut down
without warning, none whatsoever. It infuriated August to
no end, if it didn't suddenly shut down like it did--why
then his illicit doings would increase ten-fold. Maybe
that was a blessing. Maybe that was fate. Maybe that was
a part of the Device's programming? Hmmmmmmm he didn't
know, again, he didn't know a lot of things--but he DID
know that the young red headed mother was in for a good
doinking!
She did twist a bit, gyrate and put on such a confused
face. Her fingers dug tightly into the carpet as August
settled upon her chest. He leered at her, smiling, eyes
gleaming. The young woman, mother of three, focused in on
his face, but couldn't make it out no matter how she
tried.
She WAS aware, though, of being undressed. Her shirt was
ripped open and off. Her bra was snipped and both
luscious milkers were fondled albeit roughly, the nipples
tweaked and the mounds squeezed.
Monica wriggled and a naked August Moone delighted in it-
-although her movements were causing slight distress to
his vulnerable testicles. He moved up and slapped his
"meat" between her lovely young breasts and began a
steady bout of titty fucking.
During his spree his eyes came to rest on the kiddies
one-two-three. He wondered, again, at the abilities of
the Device; what was its range, could it work its
wondrous magic through objects (doors, windows, walls,
etc.) Did elevation effect it. Just how long COULD it
last on-going? How many Subjects could be
"acquired"/"affected" at one time? Where there any limits
in the Age of said Subjects?
So far August had nailed (mind wise) a young person as
young as nine.
Now he had in his midst a little girl (the oldest) who
was merely eight, another little girl at merely four
years with a boy in the middle who was almost seven. All
were horribly frightened, all still clothes, all had
pissed themselves. As August had slung their distraught
mother into his vehicle, then they themselves followed,
they watched in absolute awe as their Tormentor stood and
stripped off his clothes.
Their mother began making displeasing noises. August,
too. He slid down the woman's body and latched onto her
breasts, sucking on one and then the other, nipping the
nipples and gouging her between her legs. Passion's Fire
began to steadily rise within him, cumulating to the
point of frantic lust whereupon he roughly ripped the
woman's jeans down, emptying his mind of any rational
thought.
She tried kicking. She tried thrashing, kicking,
screaming--all to know avail. She could only take the
assault, weep some, twist her body some--her body was
his, his to command and control--well, so long as the
Device Item 0110 didn't suddenly shut-the-fuck-down. It
didn't.
August pushed aside her panties and introduced her well
fucked cunny to a real cock. A manly cock. A determined
cock. Monica thrashed more, August had to stop his doings
to make minor adjustments to the Device, increasing Mind
Control. Then he was back to thrusting his determined
schlong into her hot torrid pussy.
With her legs up along his washboard abs he began
slamming into her. Monica's mouth opened and for a while
August replaced Monica's face with those bitches from his
high school. How heavily he had lusted for them, each one
through all four years of high school--and beyond.
When a great load of his spunk splashed its way into the
deep recesses of Monica's cunny he withdrew, massaged his
severely aching organ and let the woman be, for now.
Checking the Device quickly he saw that her mind was
still his, but exhausted as he was--security first. The
woman was bound and gagged, as were the kiddies.
He had little strength for anything else.
****
Strangers in the Dark
No matter how he tried the shadows still seemed to be
present everywhere he looked. As he frantically made his
way down this tunnel and that he scattered up the throat
choking spores that made up the tunnel walls. Try as he
might he couldn't settle his growing intense fear. But he
tried:
"You ain't gonna FUCK me, again!" shouted angrily August.
Famous last words.
As he went sprawling thru a moss shrouded tunnel entrance
and tried gathering himself a sinewy creature's hand
reached for him and pulled him into a room.
This time, though, August wasn't going to take the
assault laying down or so willing as before. He was still
appalled, and still very frightened. The creatures (now
numbering a dozen) encircled him. They were still all
very tall, basketball player height, slender body build--
although their true body was concealed by the crinkly
moss-like drab gray single piece clothing they wore. He
could see no feet and no neck and no other distracting
features... Only their bony meatless arms slinking out
from their bodies accompanied by their long bony
schlongs. August tightened up and tried to escape. But
the creatures held him fast in the doggie-style position,
ripping his military clothes off. He clenched up tight
(his asshole) but the violation was going to take place
regardless.
The first "penetration" came and August thought for sure
the "member" was going to tear thru his bowels and up
into his gut (and beyond.) There was nothing he could do
but cling to the crinkly garments of the tunnel
creatures.
While one pumped him from behind another one shoved his
schlong into August's mouth. It was just as gamey,
repulsive, riddled with pock marks and hairy moles/boils.
It reeked and tasted god awful. August hurled and only
made matters worse as the vomit was everywhere for his
face to endure.
Endure. His ass and mouth endured the violations until
each tunnel creature had ejaculated their nauseating goo
into his orifices. He was then left to lay in a curled
position on the stone floor. After several long minutes
he began re-gathering himself--he needed to flee (and
flee quickly for fear that the heinous bastards would
return for another round.)
Several minutes longer were needed to relocate his booty,
he wasn't going to leave without it, not this time. He
had come thru far too much to go home empty fucking
handed!
He guessed an hour spent traveling down various tunnels,
totally lost.
Finally, though, he found a tunnel semi well illuminated
with the small near microscopic life forms that emitted
phosphorous light. He came stumbling out to the small
subterranean cave where there was the pool of water. It
was a simple dive to the bottom; then, following the
stalks of seaweed up an inlet tunnel to the light and the
pond's upper surface.
The water was cold, damn cold. His strength was nearly
out of him, his asshole bleeding, his balls and cock
severely sore and aching, a foul wretchedness seething in
his soul.
There was nothing to do but do it; especially when he
thought he heard scuffling from behind him...
His adventure was still not quiet over--there was the
trek back through the maze Charlie had led him, then out
to the wrecker and back home. It was a long walk, longer
than he recalled from the first time. He dragged his
booty behind him and trudged onward. When entering the
sheer surface canyon maze-like area he became aware of a
presence. He gulped and held his ground. The sky above
was a cool gray, a warm breeze wafted on listlessly
therms. And there was nothing but dead silence all
around.
August stared ahead, straining to hear, to sense
anything, anything unusual or out of the ordinary. He had
to scoff, 'fuck,' he said to himself, 'EVERY fucking
things been unusual!'
He took a step, then another.
There were sounds of something like a tambourine. Then
something like a drum, and voices. As he took another
step the sounds increased, growing not just louder but
closer and faster.
August's heart began to race and he was close to bolting
and making a run through the canyon maze.
"Not yet, laddy." spoke an all too familiar voice.
August whirled about. Charlie Dugout stood there.
He was now clothed, in a heavy wool linen robe-like
outfit. He was clean shaven and looked neater, cleaner.
He was smiling and had all his teeth.
"Charlie?" August quipped.
"Aye, lad, it's me." His voice seemed clear, too.
"What's going on?"
Charlie changed his persona slightly, thinking--mulling.
Then he spoke, "Destiny."
"Destiny?" what the fuck was THAT supposed to mean?
"Mine or yours?" August shot back.
Charlie smiled and chuckled. "Yours, laddy, yours."
"Oh." then, "Is that good or bad."
"Well, that's the crux of it, ain't it." it was a
statement rather than a question. August stood there
dumbly trying to finger it.
"I-I don't understand, Charlie."
"Well, laddy," Charlie breathed, "From this point on, you
fill your destiny."
"What does that mean?"
"When you step out of this canyon, you'll have some
choices--"
"What choices? What kind of choices?"
"To follow your destiny, or make one."
This wasn't helping. "You're not making sense, Charlie,
help me."
"I'd like to, August, but I can't."
"Why not?"
"I've got to go, to MY destiny."
"Will I see you again?"
"Don't know, lad, don't know." then, "Follow your
destiny, lad, you make it your own, be true to yourself
and you'll be fine." then, "But be careful, I warn you;
it ain't gonna be easy."
"Now whattya mean?"
"The temptations are gonna be all over you like flies to
manure!"
"What kind of temptations? What choices? What's the
right--"
They were interrupted by the ever increasing sounds of
tom-toms, Indian chanting, and loud tambourines.
"Run, boy!" almost shouted Charlie.
August turned and ran.
"And don't look back!"
His shoulder clunked hard against the narrow canyon maze,
the sounds of the Indian War Chants were all around him,
seemingly coming right out of the canyon walls
themselves! He stumbled, fell, and crashed headlong into
the twisting canyon maze.
"And don't forget about the clearing!" Charlie had
shouted out as August fled. "Wait until it changes to
what you know!"
August came to the clearing, he was almost home.
The "clearing" dead center of the canyon maze, had no
canyon walls on the other side but a landscape--emptying
out into a lush green field of early wheat. To the right
a huge crop of corn, an orchard of apples to the left.
August held his ground, but the sounds of Indians on a
rant trembled him so.
"Come on, change, damn you!" August bitched. He somewhat
understood--if he stepped out into the new scenery, well-
-he'd be in a "new" place that was not "this" place. And
have to find his way back again.
Why it changed he didn't know, an Indian magic thing?
Still unknown.
Suddenly the corn field disappeared as did the apple
trees. They were replaced by mesas, rugged, rustic,
stretching up high to the clear blue sky. He started to
make his run, but noted that the lush green wheat field
hadn't changed. As memory served him, the entire clearing
was surrounded by sheer canyon walls of obsidian. He
wasn't home yet.
Suddenly behind him he heard voices, many voices. And a
thunderous amount of horses. Turning he saw them,
hundreds of horses with Indians on them. Naked Indians.
Yelling, chanting, screaming, and firing flaming arrows
at him.
"Holy shit!" August screamed. Panic overtook him and he
bolted. A small number of naked Indians leaped from their
horses, jeering and screaming in some unknown tongue.
August swallowed hard and clutched his booty bag and
began running. Two huge lanky Indians ran faster, holding
their naked schlongs with a strange look in their eyes.
August's asshole clenched up and the thought of being
buggered by an entire tribe of Indians was too much to
bear. He booked...
The flaming arrows soared overhead igniting the wheat
field. Trying to bolt left only got him so far as the
slope up to the towering mesa. The Indians were already
gathering and dismounting their horses, all running
towards him with fire in their eyes.
"Holy shit!" August uttered again. He began swinging the
booty bag, knocking a couple of stout Indians down. But
their numbers were too many and he was pummeled to the
hot baking rocky sandy earth.
Let the Sodomizing Begin!
As many as half a dozen BIG Indians had had their way
with him, another half dozen had stuffed his mouth with
their schlongs (but at least THESE schlongs weren't as
disgusting as the tunnel creatures'!) Two big Indians
held him fast with one having a very large and very sharp
knife (Bowie) at his throat.
Indians who were not fucking him in one hole or the other
peed on him.
Searing pain seethed throughout August's body, mostly in
his tormented asshole. The butt fucker's were not gentle
in the least, they grabbed his balls and toyed with them
roughly, rubbed their nakedness all over his face and
pissed on it, too.
Abruptly there came a sudden change within the
Sodomizers. Through his pain and anguish he saw some of
the Indians simply vanishing. There was a strangeness in
the air, too; he couldn't make sense of it -- but then
again, he hadn't been able to make much sense of ANYTHING
since this fucking adventure began!!
He soon found himself sprawled (nakedly) out on the
desert floor.
It was hot, uncomfortable, and some bird was screeching
high above. The sun basted his bare backside, his asshole
smoldered and he was quiet ill. A tremendous headache had
he, he couldn't think straight nor see straight. He lay
as still as possible, listening, straining to gather any
information at all before opening his eyes.
At length he did. And found that he was virtually in the
same place, but the "scenery" had changed. It was all
flat land, rocky and sandy, parched. No towering mesas,
no canyon walls, no wheat fields--and no Indians.
That last part was a plus.
He had very little strength but did manage to sit up. He
was out of breath and felt almost out of life. He had no
water and longed to be back in the pool again. A long
sigh of despair and then he saw a shimmering before him.
It was out a ways and he was curious about it. He had no
strength hardly whatsoever, but looking around at the
desolation he was in--it was worthy of some
investigation.
The shimmer was large, about ten feet in circumference.
Several hues of blue with illuminating light pulsating
from within. Dead center was the brightest blue and
brightest light. A light "humming" humming of some sort
warbled as well.
August took another look around, rubbed his searing ass
and stepped thru.
Dizziness abounded and he began to retch. He fell and
clawed his way about in high disorientation.
Uncontrollable retching, heaving, etc. His mind went into
a whir and a blur and he slumped to the ground once more.
Hard packed earth, and just inches below it stone. His
eyes slowly allowed him to see about him. He saw towering
walls, black walls, obsidian sheer surfaces. He was
completely surrounded by the walls, he was in the
clearing, the one he was supposed to be in.
Desperately he whirled about seeking the path leading out
of the insanity. He saw that there were two paths. One
was the way out, one was the way back in.
"Oh shit." he had no idea. He slumped against a wall and
hoped to get a grip (of himself.)
Then the chanting returned. The tom-toms, the
tambourines, the galloping horses! Fear swelled within
him--"No, no, NO, not again!"
As the first horses came straight out of the canyon
walls, something grabbed August by the shoulder and
dragged him. August went semi willingly and semi kicking
and screaming.
The Indians charged but as soon as he was out of the
"clearing" they seemed to have stopped. August was still
dragged thru the canyon maze and deposited out into more
familiar territory. He lay still for a while on the hot
blazing ground. His mind, his body, his asshole, all in
dire extremes of discomfort.
He needed water. Water and food. And rest. His bed. His
crummy little bed in his crummy little trailer in Mr.
Peter's crummy little wrecking yard. Slowly he turned his
head. A searing blazing orb hung high in the sky baking
him, broiling him to a hard crisp. Down below the long
hill sat a truck. His truck. Mr. Peter's truck, the
wrecker.
Was it his imagination?
He couldn't get his breath, he couldn't breathe, think,
or draw up enough energy to get some saliva going.
Something suddenly plopped down beside him stirring up
the still poof dirt of the rusty hill.
August choked and saw that it was a very dingy ditty bag,
a rucksack. A military rucksack. HIS sack. His booty bag.
He blinked his eyes, wrinkled his nose and somehow found
enough reserve energy to push himself up and look at the
bag. Timidly he put his hand out and felt of the
contents. There were lumps there, now if they just didn't
turn into snakes!!
"Goodbye, boy, good luck."
August turned quickly, nearly falling. At the entrance to
the Adventure of a Lifetime stood in a glowing wool gown
Charlie Dugout, 1952's MVP rookie winner.
"Charlie." August managed to say.
The old man waved his hand and slipped into the shadows
of the canyon and August's mind forever.
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 1/2 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 more so 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.
Timing Is Everything
Chapter Seven: There and Back Again
Hearing the whine of the highway August knew that the
left front was about to go. It was blazing hot and the
damn truck had only that 2/60 air conditioning. His young
mind was still filled with terror. Terror and confusion.
Only half he understood, the rest was lost in a field of
forever confusion. Slowly he eased the heavy wrecker off
the highway and onto the gravely shoulder. Once stopped
he sighed, then chuckled to himself, it was ironic--the
truck was designed to help other motorist with blown
tires--and yet, here he was with one himself--and no
spare!
Checking the tire the tread was peeling for sure. The
heat was sweltering and August felt utterly exhausted.
The things that had happened to him he continued to push
down--deep down and away, he didn't want to think about
them, not just yet anyways.
He was on long stretch of road between Kayenta and Tuba
City. Black Mesa loomed behind him, Three Mesas off to
the southeast aways. Not a cloud in the sky, just the
continuously boiling broiling sun.
There was nothing to do but lean against the truck and
sulk. Those things that had happened tried vehemently to
reach the surface of his mind, just as vehemently he
drove them back. He assumed that they would return in his
dreams...
Presently a Western Express truck rumbled by and came to
a stop. August was thankful, very thankful and the driver
took August into Yuba City. After a bit of lunch he got a
lift (with a new tire) back out to his wrecker from a
fellow tow truck operator. August used Mr. Peter's credit
card for the emergency and wondered how the old fart was
going to take it--Yuba City was about the limit of
August's range, anything beyond that and old man Peter's
had conniptions.
Oh well. Fuck him. August fumed at his dilemma and
changed the tire in the still increasing temperatures
then made his run back to the yard where he belonged.
Thankfully along the way a stranded motorist flagged
Auggie down, not one but TWO flat tires and something
amiss with the engine. It was too damn hot to fuck with
it (the engine) now, August hooked the stranded car up
and returned to the yard--where a slightly annoyed Mr.
Peter's stood waiting.
But with the customer in distress and all, the angry
wrecking man cooled his heels and went to work gouging.
August snuck off and took a LONG shower. He lay flopped
out on his bed butt bare assed naked and off to slumber
land.
Rudely (and thankfully) interrupted by Mr. Peter's
yelling at him to go fetch another stranded motorist in
distress. Thankfully as the tom-toms and horse's hooves
had just began.
He was working the everlasting grease out from under his
broken nails when suddenly, "SHIT!" he bellowed out loud.
Quickly he dashed out of his cruddy crappy trailer and
out to the service truck, the wrecker. Stashed behind the
seat was his "booty" bag. He had forgotten about all the
day long.
Back inside the trailer, shutting the door the contents
of the bag were laid out on the bed. The evaporative
cooler he turned down so as not to cause such a
disturbance. Four computers, laptop computers. An
assortment of odds and ends "acquired" from the
government installation and a couple handfuls of old gold
coins.
The coins he set aside, wrapping them up in some of the
sailcloth from the pirate ship. It was a trying thing to
keep the memories of that adventure at bay--every waking
moment (and sleeping one) was filled with constant
memories of Charlie, the tunnel creatures, and the
Indians.
The first laptop seemed to be well locked and difficult
to open. He let it be. Another opened and it looked it
over, it was in perfect condition. He fretted, though,
over the government tags nailed in place. If he was going
to hock the computers he would have to remove their ID.
The third computer wasn't quite like the others, it was
smaller and designed differently. Opening the lid he
found it was not quite like the other computers at all--
it was laid out differently with multi mini-LCD screens
with the single main LCD screen on the "lid: stretching
out eight inches lengthwise with four inches width.
There was no governmental tag IDs on it, either. August
didn't know what to make of it. (If he knew then--) But
he didn't. It wasn't very heavy, not like the others. It
was a little darker gray than the others, too. August
didn't know what to make of it, he just didn't. He stared
at it for a long while, then tucked it under his bed. It
was a keeper.
Come the morning he hurriedly struck out for the city's
pawn shop area. He knew of a place specializing in Hard-
to-Get-Rid Of but Needed to Items. No questions asked and
that sort of thing. August had a sort of relationship
with the owner/operator, they both had their eyes on the
young fare that wandered the downtown area, dabbled in
child pornography and once had taken advantage of a lost
teenage girl down from the bus station.
The laptops, minus the special one, August's friend liked
and had a special way to remove the GI tags without
anyone knowing. The other various IDs could be removed
easily and replaced with new ones easily.
$1,500 each for the laptops. August was cool with that.
He departed and made his way to the other side of town
where he entered a small established catering to old and
new coins.
The owner here August had observed his secretary (all the
while his WIFE was outside in the Lexus.) Good things to
know...
The coins garnered him a total of $7,000!
August was more than pleased.
*****
Lazy Eye didn't use modern day medicines--not when better
medicines could be gleaned from nature. Such as was the
case for August's wounds. Lazy Eye the local (and only)
medicine man applied a healing suave to exterior wounds
and stitched up the hole in August's side. Good rot gut
whiskey aided in this non-anesthesia outpatient visit.
Thereafter August knew no more for some time to come.
When he DID awake he had a tremendous headache, his shin
and side hurt, and especially his stomach--the rot gut
whiskey apply applied. It was dark out, he could tell
that; he was laying prone (and naked) in some bed in some
small room. He felt--awful. He had felt better. His mind
flashed back to his first adventure experience--"You'd
rather be back there?" he yapped to himself.
After drawing a breath, farting, scratching his balls he
swung his legs over and set up. The room was kind of
bland, bare, lifeless. He at first had to get a grip and
hope (and pray) that he was not experiencing yet another
fucked up dreammare. At the door he peered out and saw
bare bulbs, smelled the rustic antiques and heard bed
springs. He smiled and made his way down the short hall,
peering into a large bedroom where on a large cast iron
bed Deputy Arlene Flowers was cuffed to the posts while
Standing Bear banged her. The woman thrashed about madly,
her wrists already showing signs of long wear.
Also in the room by the wall was Monica, positioned on an
odd shaped chair--an inverted chair, the seat portion
pouched out to form a sort of impromptu "A" frame in
chair form. Monica was lashed to this while Standing
Bear's son had his way with the woman from behind,
spanking her and fucking her good.
August paused and watched for a while, found himself
massaging his now stiffened woody, then turned to lean
against the hall wall. He continued to play with himself
and listen to the sounds of Monica and Arlene getting
doinked.
Finally the bed springs quit making noises, moments later
the big Hopi-Italian/Irish Indian eased out, strands of
cum oozing from his wilting schlong.
"Sorry old pal, couldn't wait." jeered Standing Bear.
August chucked and let it go, he peeked his head into the
room, Joshua was still tagging Arlene, spanking her and
very determined to get his nut.
"The others?" August asked out of curiosity.
"Down the hall." his friend smiled. The two men moved
down the hall, August still smarting from his wounds but
they were healed and discomfort would only last a short
while.
"I thought you were going to put in some air
conditioning?" bitched August as the came to the end of
the short hall.
"I did," replied Standing Bear, "put in a new window on
the other side."
Carlie looked up as the thin storage door opened. A few
cots were in this room, some mattresses on the floor,
general purpose room for all things naughty. On the
single bed with her were her equally frightened (and now
naked) siblings, Jason & Amy.
Carlie swallowed a huge lump and tightened up her young
naked body. Her blue eyes wide focused solely on August,
her original Tormentor. The two naked men came in,
shutting the door behind them.
Jason and Amy clung to one another, August moved to sit
on the edge of the bare mattress. Carlie moved only
slightly, her big wide eyes still focused on him solely.
Standing Bear came and stood on the other side of the
bed, masturbating, strands of his spunk still drizzling
from his schlong.
"Lay down." August said, directing his command to Carlie.
The little girl hesitated for a moment, but only a moment
and then she began inching down. August's eyes fell to
her poon, her bare bald naked poon. Slowly his balls
surged, he was relatively certain that Standing Bear
hadn't fucked her, waiting until August was up and ready.
August had already previously pegged the little girl, he
remembered it fondly--as did the little girl.
Jason and Amy. August was fairly certain that they, too,
were "untouched." They had been cleaned up and bathed but
nothing more. (That August knew of.)
Automatically little Carlie opened her legs, pursing her
lips and keeping her still pretty eyes locked onto her
Tormentor. August went down on the child, latching onto
her delicate flower wholly with his mouth, blowing hot
breath into her sex followed by his delving tongue.
The wriggled about, clutching at the bare mattress and
whimpering just slightly. August began digging his finger
up into her poop chute further sending the child into
oblivion.
Standing Bear massaged his schlong and seized up young
Amy, feasting his eyes on young Jason. Amy he brought
down onto the bed and rolled her over onto her stomach,
he then positioned brother Joshua up at Amy's head and
forced the four year old to suck her brother.
Carlie began bucking as the sensations of August's tongue
tantalized her. She spread her legs wider and held onto
the bed as August continued his hellish deed. Standing
Bear worked Amy's head up and down six year old brother
Jason's cock while he himself worked his prong up and
down Amy's ass crack.
"You got any more videos?" Standing Bear asked as he
released Amy's head and had her suck her brother on her
own.
August pulled up from Carlie's cunt and brought his
schlong up against her, gouging her pussy and preparing
to enter into once more. He nodded, "Yeah, one recently
from a dude ranch, pretty good stuff."
"Anything with these ones?"
"Yep, them too." August gushed and slipped his prick into
Carlie's snatch. The girl winced, tightened up, mouth
opened, gulping for air, eyes as wide as possible feeling
every horrible inch of August's cock sliding into her.
"Just relax." August cooed. He kept his voice calm while
he did his deed. Standing Bear brought young Amy's ass up
to him and he began a steady bout of prodding her still
virginal backdoor. *****
"Dancing Elk still around?"
"When he's sober."
The night air was cool, August puffed on a "loaded" peace
pipe offered by Standing Bear. A million stars twinkled
in the clear night, there was a partial moon illuminating
the dreadful desertscape, a coyote howled and bats could
be heard zoning in on their prey.
"You wanna see him?"
"Yeah."
Another puff followed by a sip, August hadn't said "how"
he had acquired his wounds, it was a thing between them--
no questions asked. None were needed, anyhow; both
dabbled in bizarre and illicit things, both helped
provide assistance and "cover" and besides, Standing Bear
wasn't a stupid man--Arlene Flowers was in deputy
clothes.
"He still run that sweat lodge?"
"Uh-huh." then, "You want him to set it up?"
"Uh-huh." August needed a soul cleansing, or something.
Every so often when the weigh of the world got to be too
much August made a trip to see his Indian friend and make
use of a general use Indian ceremony; The Sweat lodge.
Normally it was used for the young braves (way back when)
who were about to go on a hunt; they went strip down and
utilize the sweat lodge to cleanse their bodies so as
thereafter the animals they hunted (buffalo, deer, elk,
etc.) could not detect them.
The sweat lodge was just that, a lodge of sweat. It was a
small hut concealed by natural foliage with one way in
and a small opening in the top. In the center was a hole.
It was here that piles of rocks that had been "cooking"
in a fire were placed and after the door had been secured
shut cups of water was poured onto the hot rocks thus
filling the tight enclosure with steam.
The steam caused whoever within to sweat, and lots of it.
Their would be chanting, singing, and purifying of one's
mind, body, and soul. August felt that the time had come
for such a cleansing. He still very much detested the
death of the helicopter pilot.
He crashed in a room provided for him without much ado
for anything else. He didn't even have a buzz from the
happy smoke he had shared with Standing Bear. He lay
awake for a long time, listening to the lone coyote
howling and the bats zipping around. Oh how his life had
changed since acquiring the strange governmental laptop.
In the days that followed after his desert adventure and
discovering that in his possession he did not have just
any ordinary governmental laptop computer, his path had
indeed been chosen. Charlie had warned him about choosing
his path. "You step outta this canyon you'll have some
choices to make." the old man had told him. "Choices,
decisions, a path to destiny."
August had no clear idea if he had made the right one or
not. With his new found "wealth" he moved out of Mr.
Peter's trailer and into a newer trailer in a regular
trailer park. He also bought his first own vehicle,
continued to work for the wrecking yard but hoped to
branch out into something new by taking classes at the
local junior college.
It was here that he got his first inclination of what he
had tucked under his bed. Science classes, political,
governmental, research & development. All tied together
with bits and pieces with strung together assimilations
of other interesting tidbits from the world wide web.
August had gotten himself a personal laptop, hooked up to
the web and went "surfing."
Deciphering what he been thru and the newly acquired GI
Item 0110 took a while. (the GI Item 0110 was a part of
the nametag braided onto the bottom of the Device.) It
was two months before August finally managed to even turn
the dang thang on! But he was still a long ways away from
fully comprehending the complexities of the device-
laptop.
...until one day Fate once more reared its head and
stepped in.
Working for Mr. P had its perks, its lowdowns and
problems, like any job. The perks were the ability to
snag abandoned cars and turn them into profit with very
little effort. This allowed August to begin seriously
saving some dough. Every now and then he was tempted--
tempted to make another run out to the Pirate ship beyond
the Tunnel Creatures' domain.
He was just tempted, he wouldn't actually do it. Being
butt fucked by the tunnel creatures was one thing, but
victimized by the Indians was just too much to take!
From various professors he learned about quantum physics,
time displacement, relativity, general physics and
alternate dimensions. Most didn't believe wholly in what
they preached, it was just the general rhetoric. August
took heavy notes and mulled them over with what he had
actually experienced.
He soon began to work part-time at the on-site bookstore,
scamming books and filling his head with more and more
substance of things he did not understand. And he told NO
ONE about his experience. One night he came to order
pizza. Not an unusual thing, but he was stressed (at
school and Mr. Peter's wife was aware of the man's
Phoenix trips--she was hounding the gruff wrecking yard
fart and causing problems for him--and you know the old
adage--shit rolls down hill. August was catching flak
from Mr. Peter's so he stayed out of the Yard as much as
possible.)
He had begun getting into the dynamics of computer
science, programming, alternate dimensional theories,
quantum mechanics, and trying to decrypt the heavily
encrypted Device Item 0110. So he was distracted and not
aware of someone knocking on his trailer door.
Upon answering the door--there stood the pizza delivery
person holding a large salami/Hawaiian Pizza w/extra
cheese. Generally speaking, "So what?"
So what was the pizza delivery person was 18 and wore
tight black Levi jeans with a tight red pullover top with
the logo of the pizza joint August had called (and forgot
about.)
And she was cute.
And August was nude.
He had taken a shower and his mind got distracted by the
conjecture that physics had been developed in such a way
that it could be regarded as an actual existent field
distributed throughout three dimensional space. (Which
would sort of explain August being in the "transition"
world--he was an outsider in one dimension, stepping thru
a "doorway" into another dimension. The dimension he had
come into--the secret governmental installation, was
merely out of sync with August--or something like that--
he was out of sync (in time relatively speaking). It was
how he could move about unnoticed and be naughty to the
secretaries. It was why the food and drinks tasted so
bland, they were somewhat lifeless. Only becoming filling
and tasty when "time" caught up with them--and August.
So, he forgot he had pizza coming and forgot he was
naked.
It was an awkward moment. For the two of them. The girl
at her age had certainly seen a naked guy before, August
was some years older than the senior and had begun to
grow a slight beard.
Bashfully he backed out of the way and furiously searched
for his wallet. He knocked over his laptop on the single
dinning table and then knocked over a pitcher of lemonade
and THEN knocked over the Device Item 0110. Upon hearing
the multiple crashes the pizza girl popped her head in,
"Are you alright?" she asked out of concern. August,
embarrassed and pissed at his foolish clumsiness
scrambled to pick up his computers and bitching as he did
so. "Yeah, yeah, yeah." he said pissed offedly. He sat
the computers on the table and noted that the Device Item
0110 was Operational.
On one of the multiple LCD screens there was a readout in
heavy bold black font with the words plainly reading
OPERATIONAL with another word below it PHASE ONE
COMPLETE.
What the fuck did that mean?
August scratched his head and noted that there were more
diodes and small lights of various colors now illuminated
on the board than there had before. Humph, a simple
clunking was all it needed.
The barking of a dog and Chuck Wineman's stereo blasting
five trailers down returned August's attention to the
fact that his trailer door was open. He turned to realize
that he still hadn't dealt with the pizza situation.
The 18 yr. old was standing in the door way, peering in,
looking down to where August had tumbled. She was
motionless. Still. Lifeless. August blinked his eyes and
stared at her. James Gappers roared by on his Harley, the
girl still didn't move.
"Uh, you alright?" August had to ask. There was no
response. This was spooky.
He scratched his head then tapped her on the shoulder.
Nada.
He pulled on her shirt. Nope.
He clicked his fingers, whistled, tapped her head, pulled
her nose...
Nothing. So he stood in front of her, waggling his
wienie.
That didn't do it, either. August was flummoxed.
Leaning against the counter he tried to finger this one
out, staring at the floor, back to the girl, going over
in his mind--suddenly wondering if he was in a
"transition" world again he checked out side--no, there
was Sparky hooked up with Ladybird, Darla and Jackie were
smoking out behind their parents' trailer, and James
throttled his noisy Harley.
August returned to leaning against the counter--this
didn't make sense.
Not until his eyes fell onto the Device Item 0110.
"Oh shit!" he exclaimed.
Paying some attention more astutely now he noted in the
larger 8x4 screen a waving line with some other lines. He
didn't know exactly what they meant but Fate had handed
him a new beginning, a new destiny.
Timing is everything
Chapter Eight: Narly Business
Something burgeoned--no--burbled into August's already
frapped mind. He needed only a few moments before pulling
the pizza girl into his humble abode. He noted that he
could move her, position her, everything--just like he
had done to the secretary in his crazy adventure thru the
tunnels.
Tempting fate, like he hadn't already done so before, he
felt of her crotch; hand right to the girl's crotch and
then up to her breasts. No reaction from her whatsoever.
Hmmmmm Licking his lips, mulling, contemplating, he
kissed her, a brief peck and then--tongue right into the
mouth. There was an embrace that went with this and hand
right down to the teen's ass.
This was good.
Slowly with trembling hands he undone her stonewashed
dark jeans and peeled the flaps back. Hidden behind were
red panties. He licked his lips more, checked the girl
for any sort, any sign, of response. There was none. This
was good. This was VERY good!
Laid out on his bed, her pants and panties at her ankles
August Moone licked out her snatch, fingered it, fondled
her poon and then climbed on top of her to gouge her
cunny with his schlong. She continued to be zombie-like
and that was good.
To her delectable titties he went, sucking on them,
squeezing them and guiding his cock into her as he did
so. That was definitely good.
The girl began to make some noise, groans, moans, and
subtle movements as he pumped into her. At first it
worried him but he got over it--he was "in the groove"
and not about to stop.
He marveled at her nipples coming so stiff, her pussy
juices made the humping better--she was not a virgin. She
didn't kiss back but she did fuck back, an involuntary
reaction. After getting his nut he sat back to watch her,
massaging his organ. His mind slowly trying to regain
composure and think things thru. At length the girl began
peeing. That wasn't good. "Hey, fucking bitch!" he
bellowed. "My new bed!" it was too late to do anything;
he got a washcloth and sopped up the spillage then raised
her legs to get at the pee puddle beneath her. It was
during such doings that he noticed she seemed to be
coming around. That was bad.
He came into a panic and didn't know quite what to do
about it. 'Get dressed, stupid!' came the answer into his
noggin. That was good. He dressed quickly, just a
bathrobe. Then decided that the girl should probably be
dressed--dressed and returned to where she had last been.
Moving "Shelly" back to the doorway he noticed a light
blinking on the Device Item 0110. He didn't know what it
meant, but did note in the main screen, the 8x4 the lines
that had been there were winking out. A correlation was
being made; he didn't fully have a grasp on it but vowed
that in time he would.
*****
So thusly there came the greatest adventure of his life--
even more so then his trekking in the tunnels from the
desert. Most of his time was trail & error, discovering
and uncovering just what the little gadget he had in his
possession did; its capabilities and limits and all that.
He realized early on the extraordinary potential of such
a device, and the dangers.
Even after years of fooling around with the odd
contraption he was mildly aware that he had yet to
uncover the entire abilities of the Device Item 0110. To
guess he would assume that maybe-maybe he had uncovered
about 40 maybe 50% of the item's doings.
With his mind still cluttered with odds & ends the sweat
lodge was a good idea. He didn't know if it would
actually help, but it couldn't hurt. Dancing Elk ran the
sweat lodge, it would take him a day to build a new
lodge, and after each use he tore it down--religious
reasons. No one hunted anymore, not in the desert, but
the sweat lodge was still used for other reasons.
During this time of construction he kept to himself,
avoided the every once in awhile tourists who came
lopping about the small Indian town. He watched the
buzzards and hawks, the naked Indian children, and a
tumbleweed roll. He tried emptying his mind of cluttered
thought himself, but it was no use. The Device Item 0110
filled it. He definitely realized the potentiality of the
thing--its possibilities were endless--endless. He felt
as though he had no direction, no insight to his future.
What destiny? Charlie Dugout had mentioned something of a
destiny, a path, and choices to make. August assumed that
he had chosen wrongly. Sometime he felt the Device was a
curse.
Feeling parched August returned to the home of his friend
and helped himself to a cold soda. No one was about and
so he roamed down the hall, finding his friend pegging
young Carlie.
Her legs were up, being held by Standing Bear's son who
had his testicles in the young tormented girl's mouth.
Standing Bear was buried to the hilt inside the girl's
cunny fucking her good and proper. August let them be and
moved to the other room where Amy and Jason were. Both
these kids had been buggered, Amy and Carlie forced to
suck their young brother as well as lay out to be fucked
by him. His little dinky wasn't much and not overly
capable of doing a proper fuck, but close counts and it
was all filmed regardless.
August didn't really cotton to shagging such overly young
children, not a whole lot of pleasure in that. There was
some, but he really preferred his pussy (and asshole) to
be at least ten. At least!
But he lie down on a bare mattress and motioned for young
Amy to come hither. She hesitated only momentarily but at
length complied. The four year old crawled up onto his
lap and nestled against his manly prong. August cupped
her ass, gave it a squeeze and then began diddling her
asshole. Both he and Standing Bear had buggered the child
and son Joseph had been the one to actually fuck her
very-very-very virginal poon.
August held the child close to him for a few moments
before working his own bone into the girl, gliding her up
and down and finding that in this manner his mind DID
clear.
Some. He was still fraught with strange thoughts and
plagued with his past adventures. But the pleasures of
shagging young Amy overtook the downcast and he quickly
got into the swing and fucked the little one until he
creamed in her.
The rest of the day was spent further torturing the
children's' mother and the deputy sheriff Arlene Flowers.
Monica, the children's mother, still showed signs of
balking, of trying in desperation not to comply. The
Device was no longer needed to ensure compliance, strong
will, spanking, threats, and a tazer did the trick just
nicely. Monica wept uncontrollably as she slurped on the
young schlong of her young son, Jason. Thereafter she
couldn't believe the continued horror of her son's
testicles in her mouth, the boy laying down and once more
being fucked in the ass--and thereafter she was forced to
lick his hole clean.
Her daughters Carlie and Amy took position on their
mother's face and were promptly butt fucked--August,
Standing Bear and son Joseph doing the hellish deed.
Deputy Flowers got into the act, too; settling on
Monica's face, eating her pussy out--sucking the mens'
cocks as they fucked the distraught mother. Monica forced
to lick Arlene's pussy and asshole, suck on the dangling
slapping balls that were in her face as the men humped
furiously.
The women watched in absolute horror as the kiddies were
all raped and sodomized before them. Carlie was still on
August's Shit List and so was spanked HARD every now and
then and forced to suck his cock and stand still while
being peed on by the men.
Again August banged off into Monica, slapping her thighs
and very determined to break her. She refused, but was
close. She would be not to be trusted that was for
certain. August knew that soon the rest of the Indian men
of the village would be having a go at the woman, the
young ones, the old ones. And if that didn't work--
There were other ways, other means: medicine man Lazy Eye
had his ways. Standing Bear had his, too. Neither woman
would return to normal society again. Nor would the
kiddies.
The following day August entered into the sweat lodge.
The first hour was mostly chanting. Running Deer and a
couple of other young Indian women of the village came in
as well, butt naked and for the reasoning of further
helping "those in need." hehehe
During the second hour August felt a little ill and lay
down, against the edge of the enclosure so as to get a
little air that seeped in at the edge. Running Deer was
positioned before him, she scrunched down some and placed
her nakedness to August's face. After parting a cheek
August took the offering and began licking her corn hole
as well as her virtually bald poon.
The other men of the village August could hear were as
well "involved" with the various women. Soon Arlene and
Monica would be among them. During the third hour August
mind somewhat became more clearer. While Little Beaver
sucked on his organ he determined that enough with toying
around with the Device. Get a life! For years he had
dedicated his every waking moment, and non-waking, too!
To uncovering the hidden secrets of the Device. From this
point on he was either to figure it out completely--or
take it back where it belonged!
No, that was stupid thing to think of.
But, maybe he COULD go back, maybe. Check to see if the
pirate ship was still there? What other "worlds" would
there be other than the governmental installation he had
stumbled into? He had no family, no job, nothing to pin
him down and occupy his time. He wouldn't go unarmed, not
this time. And those butt fucking bandit tunnel creatures
and Indians were going to play hell getting at his ass
this time, too!
Sounded like a plan.
And there was the class reunion, too. He smiled and
orgasmed off into Little Beaver's mouth. Running Deer
"serviced" the chief-elder of the village and Standing
Bear buggered his way with one of the "other" young new
members of the tribe.
*****
Uncovering the divine secrets of the extraordinary Device
wasn't going to happen overnight. So far it hadn't
happened thus far in the many years he had had the
thingamajig. It was a wondrous thing just the same, and
potentially dangerous. Too many close calls he had had
thru the years, mainly the damn thing's sudden "shut-
down."
But the perks were worth it, he supposed. The absolute
ability to overtake another person's mind, command their
will, and manipulate their mind to HIS will--that was
priceless.
He figured as much that his stay in Flagstaff was going
to be a long one, so he settled in one of those live-in
hotels. There was two-bedrooms, a living room, kitchen.
It was secluded, his room anyways, quaint and not overly
expensive.
(Although, August Moone had little to worry about $$,
with the Device he had no worries about whatsoever...) He
rested a whole day, acquiring a new wardrobe, updating
some necessary personal items, and just generally
resting. The sweat lodge experience had done him well and
he didn't have to worry about what he was going to do
with the deputy or the mother (and the kiddies one-two-
three.)
He emptied his mind of worry and thought nothing of the
Device, the impending class reunion, everything. He
rested, slept, and kept his thoughts pure. This only
lasted a day...
Every so often he took a risk to closely examine the
Device Item 0110; close scrutiny, and then although in
the Program Screen below those already deciphered
encryptions an encrypted line was ready (but encrypted
and thusly unreadable to August) he would initiate
program Start/Begin/Accept.
Sometimes there was nothing, nothing notable anyways.
Sometimes there was only the enhancement of what he
already knew about--the brain wave patterns. He hadn't
been able to actually decipher what the fuck the
encrypted words were, it was a gamble. He had his own
personal laptop computer and knew how easily it was to
"crash" it in a moments notice. But with taking various
computer classes he learned the intricate workings of
computers and their programming.
But the Device Item 0110 was not a normal laptop
computer.
There were as many as 20 "programs" currently running or
were operational. How many there were programmed into the
Device he had no idea. He still occasionally thought of
seriously making a return to the governmental
installation. Now he was older, smarter, a little wiser
and thusly (hopefully) capable of gleaning other
necessary information, locating files and personnel and
whatever he could that would enlighten him on his most
valuable prize.
After much debate he finally pressed the button to
initiate the okay to Run Selected Program. Nothing
happened. The Device made no noises, no beeps or pings or
anything of the like. He did note a few more lights had
come to life. A wavy line on the main screen and smaller
ones on the three sub-smaller screens.
So what was the significance of this? He had no idea. He
tapped his fingers together and sat back trying to think
and decipher further. Sometimes, he was aware, the
"answer" did not present itself automatically. Sooooo,
with a heavy sigh he called in an order for pizza. Still
in somewhat of a funk it was time for a little walk. (The
pizza person was male and far to old for Auggie to mess
with.) The night air was good and refreshing. The
rainstorms that had greeted him on his earlier visit had
diminished greatly leaving behind a so-so mugginess that
also diminished when the night came on.
The Device accompanied him, tucked away in a specially
made pouch behind him inside his shirt. Again he strove
to push down terrible thoughts, nightmares of the
persistent kind, and etc. He figured that he could spend
his lifetime deciphering and tempting fate with the
Device and STILL never uncover all its secrets.
But that was fine with him. What it did for him so far
was good enough to LAST him a lifetime. He had no
destination, currently or in life. The Device was his
life, his occupation, his obsession. He doubted that it
was his Destiny as so proclaimed by Charlie Dugout. He
doubted further that he had indeed chosen the correct
choice for his path.
At a bookstore kind of out of the way he peered in. Fate
again reared its interest. Inside at the counter was a
delicious teenager, 16-17 yrs. young, bouncy blond hair
in a pony tail, perky breasts, short pleated white skirt.
She was surrounded by two teen boys and three teen girls.
August saw, too, a staunch tall woman who could easily
put on a Marine Drill Sergeant uniform and be
comfortable, in company with two precious little
young'uns. There, too, was a lone young adult woman and a
pair of petite pre-teens with a pudgy companion.
Hmmmmmm
He look them overly carefully before deciding their fate.
He was enthralled by them, all of them. They all had
desirable potential and that was a plus. He mulled and
thought, rethought, checked the area about him, then
entered the establishment.
It was close to closing time; it was late evening and
most of the off-center downtown shops had closed or were
closing. No one paid him any attention and that was good.
He perused the new magazines and the best seller rack,
then made his way into the adult section to peruse the
dirty narly mags.
At length he made his way to the rear of the store
whereupon he slyly began removing his prized possession--
no, not that, the OTHER prized possession--the Device. He
kept a look out on the security of his being and a check
on the security mirrors in the corner. But the teen who
was in charge of the counter and store was too busy
yapping with her friends. His security was breeched when
the little girl of the Drill Sergeant mother came rushing
about. A white sweater on a yellow shortie dress. Blond
hair, blue eyes, all smiles, nice and young at a sweet
six years. August smiled at her and made good with the
Device.
He was suddenly surprised with a "sneak attack" from
behind, the little girl's brother. August stumbled and
crashed into the rack of books. They didn't fall and
neither did August, but the Device did. He tried quickly
to catch it, the little kids quickly vamoosed and the
governmental laptop clunked to the floor.
Retrieving the wondrous gadget he checked it, saw that
all its illuminated lights and such flickered and winked
out. August cursed and bitched under his breath. He
didn't pay attention to anything else and began making
his way out thru the store, he needed to get home and see
if the Device could be salvaged.
He noted then a slight vibration in the Device, checked
it and noted that it had returned to life. It suddenly
let out a tremendous ear piercing whine that lasted some
several seconds. Thereafter all the functions that he was
used to were back to working order.
Hmmmmmm
He then noted the main screen and that there were now
several brain wave lines wavering there. August blinked
his eyes, licked his lips, then casually looked about the
store. He firstly noted how quiet it was, only the air
conditioner hum could be heard. Almost holding his breath
he sidestepped to where he could see the tallest person
in the store, the mother of the two precocious children.
She was holding a magazine and being very still. Her
children clung to her and were still. August neared and
noted the lone adult woman and the small group of
preteens. All were standing still not moving.
August came up to the woman, put his hand on the little
girl's head, then the boy's. The woman remained still. He
peeked to see what she was reading, being nosey. She
didn't mind. If she were "normal" she would have he was
sure.
On a risk, a big risk, he put his hand to her butt. She
didn't react. His hand came to wave in front of her face,
he clicked his fingers, stuck out his tongue, pushed her
arms down and fondled her breasts. She did nothing, not
even bat an eye! Down the aisle to the preteens. A fondle
of breasts, a kiss on the mouth, a fondle right between
their legs, then off to the nearby lone single white
female. Not much doings here, just the same fondling,
caressing--laying her out on the floor with her jeans and
undies at her ankles and having his way with her!
He sucked on her breasts and just concentrated on
fucking. When done he rested briefly before scooting back
to Drill Sergeant mother and pulling the panties down of
the little blond girl. He raised her dress and smooched
on her ass, diddled her very extremely virgin asshole,
then laid her out on the floor as well, legs up and began
a steady rout of humping her equally virginal pussy.
Neither the child or the young adult made any indications
that they were aware. August continued his rant with
pulling the young boy's slacks down, his undies, too. The
boy's ass was soft and smooth and August took a few
minutes to be pleasured by it--before sucking on the
youngster's schlong and then turning him about to make
anal love.
There was no interest in the teen boys, but there WAS
strong interest in the teen girls. He firstly fondled
more in vigorously the preteen girls, undressing them,
checking for virgins, then "sampling" and helping himself
to deflowering all three of the girls. There was spanking
and "in the mouth" humping and just when he thought he
could do no more, he walked blatantly (nakedly) about the
store, closing the blinds, drapes, shutters--placing the
CLOSED sign in the window, shutting out most of the
lights and stripping down the teen girls at the check-out
counter.
He was on a roll.
He let his mind wander off to wonder while his body
enjoyed the delights of the flesh. Only one of the teen
girls was a virgin. And it wasn't the shy one. Nor the
most outgoing. It was the one with reddish blond hair,
smart, good looking, short in stature, wide hips, bubbly,
perky, very sweet in the face and tight between the legs.
Her poon was shaven and there was a rainbow tattoo on the
left cheek, a rabbit standing up "sportin' a woody" on
the right. Her belly button was pierced as well as tongue
and eyebrow. August balled her right on the counter and
emptied as much of his love cream as possible.
To the shy girl he found that she was not a virgin. Her
pussy was well trimmed, she bore no tattoos but did show
some signs of bruises. She beheld a sweet smile and there
was just something about her that intrigued him. He loved
on her a few minutes before penetrating her (at least)
virgin backdoor.
The counter girl was wise on giving head, so she sucked
August and then he rested, plucked a few books,
magazines, and then toyed with the idea of how to end the
spree. There were several ways, but for now he decided to
return everyone back the way they were--as much as
possible. But as far as having them all remain naked and
the teen boys the likely culprits in doing the narly
shenanigans--naw, he let it be and only "inserted" some
sexual notions.
Returning to his new digs he contemplated what had
happened: a mass mind whammy. Normally he was able to zap
one victim very well, two and three were capable but not
recommended and any more than that was pushing it.
He wondered, was the Device evolving, somehow? Was its
abilities on a time schedule? Or was it merely chance?
This caused him to stay up the night and pour over his
notes and jot down new ones. From there he merely crashed
and slept for all the following day.
He gained no new insight, just a clearer mind.
The Device he found had remained "on" all the night. Was
this new? Well, Yes, dumbass, in a way. It had never
stayed "on" for more than a couple of hours. There was a
way to turn the unit off, and on. He couldn't recall if
he had forgotten or what. With nothing better to do and
no plans to zap anybody, he let it stay while he
contacted those in charge of the reunion.
Timing is Everything
Chapter 9: Reunions
One of the local Holiday Inns served as the location for
the Class of 1980. For being the middle of summer, the
weather for the Flagstaff area was crappy. One day was
nice and warm, the following day Satan would be looking
for someplace cooler, then the next it was the second
coming of Noah.
August sat in his ride in the parking lot, a western
tuxedo, new boots, fancy gold watch, manicure, trim, the
whole nine yards. The news of the town was still hot with
the still unexplained disappearances of a county sheriff,
the murder/killing of a helicopter pilot, and unexplained
disappearances of an entire family.
He didn't know why but he had butterflies in his stomach,
he felt nervous and at odds about attending the social
gathering. Something was amiss. Something gnawed at him
and he didn't know what--or what to do about it--if
anything.
When the rain at last let up (some) he eased out of the
panel and walked briskly to the hotel and paused just
inside the corridor. He still had that uneasy feeling and
he didn't like it. He saw other peoples coming, going,
and milling about listlessly. It had been twenty years,
people changed. He recognized no one. He wondered
casually if the western cut cowboy tuxedo was a bit
much...
At length he made his way along following the signs
Central High Class Reunion '80. He was early, only a desk
with nametags was out. There was a sign-in book and a
class year book. Off to one side in a corner was a small
open bar. A lone pudgy Mexican manned it. August got a
Tom Collins then checked into the large room where the
main shindig would take place. A large open area for
dancing and such, crystal ball, a mega stereo booth on a
stage and a jillion tables scattered out in a large "U"
shape.
"Hi!" spoke up a voice from behind him. He nearly came
out of his suit. 'Son-of-a-bitch!' he turned and there
was a young woman he did not know, all smiles, curly red
hair, well rounded face, some freckles (still), blazing
eyes of fire, too much perfume, small-small chest. She
had on a nametag with her high school picture--Kim
Kopper.
August searched his mind while focusing in on the picture
and the woman who wore it. Kim Kopper, she was one of the
Twenty-four. As he recalled she was not overly rude to
him way back when, but not that friendly, either. She ran
with her own group and seldom acknowledged his presence.
Regardless, she was on his List.
She was way too chipper, and looked NOTHING like she did
way back when. But she was attractive, slim, perky, and
thusly fackable. Other schoolmates began to file in,
August slipped away and leaned against the huge plate
glass window looking out to the drenching rain sipping
his Tom Collins.
He watched carefully with scrutiny as five girls showed
up, none of which he could recognize. He began to doubt
how this was all going to play out. Until one of the
unrecognized classmates made her way past him making for
the restroom down the wide hall and around a corner.
As she passed August nodded to her, smiling, and gave a
quick eye to her just placed nametag. Tammy. Tammy Hewes.
Hmmmmm
SHE had been the most kind to him during his tumultuous
days of high school. She had been friendly, very
friendly, charming, but had never dated him. She was
flighty although flirty. He had desired her then and he
desired her now. As soon as she turned the corner at the
end of the hall he quickly made his way, too.
The women's restroom was at the far end of the private
corner, the men's was directly before him. A bank of
candy machines, cigarettes, and phones were here, too. A
man and a woman were utilizing the phones. Someone else
fussed with getting candy out of the multi choice candy
machine.
August pretended to use a phone at the far end of the
phone bank, but instead used his Device Item 0110. There
was little to indicate if what he hoped was happening --
was. He firstly had to waste precious time testing;
clicking his fingers, coughing, dropping some change.
Those about noticed these things but apparently did not
"see" him. This was a good thing. It meant that he was
indeed "invisible" to their sight.
He now made his way to the women's bathroom.
He hoped beyond hopes that his brain wave pattern was
instilling enough power to make his body aura warble--
thusly enacting self imposed invisibility without
capturing the intended victim, Tammy Hewes. She was
already in a private stall. Two other stalls were in
"use" as well.
He peeked into the thru the door cracks. No one screamed
so he assumed that for now (for now) he was safely still
invisible. But that notion was about to be seriously
checked as he went to initiate another program
initiative. He knew that with his own laptop that
instructing and running too many programs at one time
sometimes caused a conflict and thusly an emergency shut-
down.
He risked it.
He waited and peeked into the stall of Tammy. She
remained sitting on the toilet, panties at her knees, red
tartan skirt hiked up, knees together, pretty eyes of
blue closed seemingly in deep concentration. According to
the Device her brain wave was directly below his own.
From what he knew about such things she was his.
He dared not risk too much so he didn't have her open the
door herself, he crawled under instead. As she did not
freak out at this intrusion he safely guessed that "this
was a good thing."
Out of his tux slacks he eased his schlong and rubbed it
against her pretty face. For the most part she DID look
like herself, that was a good thing. Into her mouth he
popped his organ and rocked there for several minutes
until shooting a nice load of hot spunk.
He then pulled her pink nylon panties off and eased her
butt to the edge of the toilet whereupon he worked her
legs up his body and began a serious bout of fingering
her pussy. Naturally she was not a virgin, she was
married. But he fingered her just the same then took a
turn at diddling her bung hole; he was pleased to find
that it was very "giving."
He paid no attention to the comings and goings of the
other users of the bathroom, he turned the hapless Tammy
about and re-positioned her over the toilet and took a
quick turn at buggering her asshole. When done he wiped
her pussy and asshole with her undies and tucked them
into his vest pocket.
That was One, only twenty-three more bitches to go!
*****
It took a while but he finally managed to sideline his
main Subject Objective. She wasn't the most popular,
certainly not the most attractive, or beheld many of the
other redeeming values that send August's cock to surging
and balls a-cinching. But, he had had a slight crush on
her during their school years, he knew her sine the 7th
grade, she was originally from Texas, daughter of a
Baptist minister. She was semi-cute, serious feathered
hair, a member of the school choir, long and tall and
damn nice.
He had always wanted to bone her, but she hung with other
friends and August could only assume that those boys whom
he didn't like and they didn't like him were tagging her.
Twenty years hadn't changed, not much. She was still
cute, damn cute. Long super curly hair, a sweet smile,
still popular with her clutch friends, putting on the
persona that she was "all that."
It wasn't until after the dinner portion of the reunion
did August manage to waylay the bitch, sideline her and
"direct" her to go outside and make for his ride. Once
there she was laid out on the inside whereupon he quickly
closed the door and laid on her.
A few deep tongue kisses and then right to the fondling.
She wore a semi-party dress, knee length, checkered green
and white with a few lacey frills. She smelled wondrous.
Her legs went up and panties came off. He found a little
"string" dangling from her cunny--he mulled it over,
thought twice, massaged his cock then asked, "Do you
care?" to wit his cock pulsed and indicated that it did
NOT care that the bitch of his dreams was on the rag.
He nailed just because. Stripped her naked, photographed
her, spanked her, then buggered her in the infamous
doggie-style position. When done with her he collected
her undies, wiped her poon and backdoor and deposited the
soiled garment along with the ten other pairs he had so
far acquired.
She was returned to the reunion and August continued
searching for the remaining conquests.
Stephanie Harp. He fondly recalled her during their high
school days, she was another who was at least kind to
him, acknowledged his presence, was cordial and friendly.
But they never dated. She was far too pretty for the
likes of him to be seen with. She did admired his ability
to write--back in his high school days he was a writer,
posing pieces of prose and poetry and speaking for the
school during social events in far away places. (Speech &
Debate.)
She recognized him and out of most of the class she was
the one who actually retained most of what she looked
like way back when. She was still reserved, semi shy,
still damn cute, though. And was standing alone drinking
a beer by the reunion ball room entrance. A long red
shiny dress, wedding ring, nice ass, great tits. August
came up to her and chatted, smiled, drank her in, and
zapped her easily as no one was out in the outer hall. It
was pouring rain so he nixed making a run out to his
truck, he misguided the zombiefied interest to a side
store room and balled her good. He didn't strip her down,
her dress outfit was too complicated for that. But he
moved it up and panties down (and off.) there after he
banged her silly and found her backdoor just as fuckable
as the front. She was a mother of three and wife of one.
She was another conquest and August stuffed her undies
into his pocket. His cock was getting tired and not sure
if it could go on. There were still several bitches yet
to "encounter." he rested a bit, downed another Tom
Collins then waylaid Denise, Carla, and Wendy.
One by one the bitches fell to his willing desires. Some
shagged in the store room, some in their own bathroom--
nothing was sacred. Some were escorted out to his truck
regardless of the pouring rain. Shawnra & Leisha he got
as a two-fer. And was quite pleased to learn that they
were "lovers." they were already hot for one another and
didn't mind tongue lashing one another poons. August
fucked their assholes and the girls willingly cleaned
them, sucked his balls and were very dirty.
Donna was having an on-going sexual affair with best
friend Trela's husband; Claudia was in re-hab for
drinking and drugs; Brenda was an ex-con--ten years state
pen for stealing, selling stolen merchandise, and
prostitution. Julie was a nuclear physicist and into
child porn. Vicky and Lisa were lesbians (but their
husbands didn't know it...)
August was more than gleeful. His Device was now seemed
to have the wondrous ability to glean information from
his Victims--he could Ask a Question and they seemed to
very willingly provide the Answer! It made screwing them
all the better!
Of the male members of his group he wondered who among
them were equally hiding something--who were perverts,
child molesters, rapists, murderers, thieves, ex-cons. A
assumed a few of them were, he didn't know the whole male
class and didn't care to.
His last conquest for the reunion night was Mary. Mary
Cambick; who became so drunk and wasted that by midnight
most of the male members of the class of '80 had fucked
her at least once.
August took his turn then took his leave.
****
He was still plagued with that though he did enjoy
sinking his bone into the Twenty-four, he would have
preferred doing so back when they were in high school.
Now there was not so much of a conquest. They were far
prettier back then, and younger.
The Device remained "on" and August wondered how long
that would last. He wondered if it was a problem, would
it overheat, would it finally shut-down and never turn
back on, again?
Deciphering the Device's intricate idiosyncrasies was a
notable (and futile) attempt. It was a virtual crap
shoot. Sometimes it "just happened" that something of
note would come to light, sometimes he managed to make
sense of regardless.
And sometimes the damn thing would just do it!
He had to assume that on those occasions that it was a
"time-thing." The programming of the Device "released"
its programming intermittently for some unknown reason.
Too much of a good thing all at once?
The following day AFTER the reunion fiasco shindig August
noted that the Device Item 0110 was still "running." He
felt of it--for overheating purposes--and found that it
was still relatively cool to the touch. There was a
slight "hum" to be heard and a new Program Line had been
decrypted.
"Elementa Time Sequential"
It still didn't make much sense despite the fact that he
could now read it. 1) More than 100 chemical elements-
substances that cannot be decomposed or broken into more
elementary substances by ordinary chemical means-are
known to exist in the universe. However, several of these
elements, such as the so-called transuranium elements,
have not been found in nature and can only be produced
artificially
2) Time Is, Time Was, Time Past; Time & Tide Waits for No
Man
A particular time notable for its distinctive
characteristics. Often used in plural: age, day, epoch,
era, period.
NOUN: TIME, duration; period, term, stage, space, tide,
span, spell, season; the whole time, the whole period. 3)
Following one after another in an orderly pattern:
consecutive, sequent, serial, subsequent, successional,
successive.
Any measurement of time is ultimately based on counting
the cycles of some regularly recurring phenomenon and
accurately measuring fractions of that cycle. The earth
rotates on its axis at a very nearly constant rate, and
the angular positions of celestial bodies can be
determined with great precision.
On the command board (along with the QWERTY board input)
there were odd shapes with symbols. These August Moone
had strongly resisted messing with lest he get into
something he knew nothing about.
(like that had stopped before...)
There had always been (from the beginning) five of these
symbols illuminated--now there were as many as a dozen
more. Carefully he traced down these symbols, making
small notes, mental notes as to their placement, time of
being, characteristics, everything. He studied the
symbols and did nothing for several days. Several. He
determined at length the symbols had a purpose. Just
exactly what still eluded him.
He noted that there were Circles, Triangles, Squares,
Boxes (cubes) and variations of the four with small
minute intricate designs to each one. He searched
intently for a pattern; and found one. They were not in a
particular order, but of the Blue Field there were Five
Circles with various designs. In the Red, Yellow, Orange,
and Green there were the same Five Circles. Close-close
scrutiny did reveal that the Circles all beheld the same
minute intricate designs.
So was said of the Triangles, Squares, and Box-Cubes.
There was some significance to this. A mathematical
significance. August Moone was NOT a mathematical
significant genius. He mulled, contemplated, considered,
re-considered, thought, hummed, talked to himself, and
called for a pizza.
One Hawaiian-Pepperoni pizza and a six pack of Bud Light
later...
He noted no sound of any kind when pressing the Green
Triangle with what looked like a Cat's Tail curled while
dangling. He found the same-like symbol in the Blue, Red,
Yellow, Orange field and pressed them as well in
sequence.
Voila!
In the Command Prompt registry screen: DESTINATION?
This was a beginning.
To what? To where?
This was going to require thought. And lots of it. It
required another pizza and another six pack. Followed by
a walk in the rain. Destination? He was just a little
more perplexed. What did it mean? What COULD it mean? Or
did it mean anything at all?
Well, of COURSE it meant something--but what?
Destination. He could only sigh, eat pizza and drink
beer. And since he was out walking in the rain he eat his
pizza and drank his beer inside a local pizzeria.
Casually he observed the kiddies, the young adult
females, strongly observed the young in the bathroom
while the two made use of the pisser. But did nothing
more--his mind consumed with DESTINATION?
While slurping down his third beer he was privy to
overhear a convo going on behind him: "Man, if I could go
back to my old high school..."
August heard no more of the conversation. He didn't need
to.
His mind went into a whir (and a blur) as he stumbled out
of the pizzeria and nearly had to swim his way back to
his new humble abode. "Man, if I could go back to my old
high school." the words burned into him. His sentiments
exactly. His 20 yr reunion had been a good thing, but he
longed to have his way with the 24 (and then some) while
they were still IN high school.
Time. Could it be possible? Time. Why would it ask such a
thing? Time. It was foolish, a foolish notion; not
possible. Time. But then, yet again, the Device HAD
proven itself to be more than anything August could
possibly conceive. Time. What a concept. Was it possible?
He took a shower, a hot one then a cold one then a hot
one again.
Out on his bed butt naked for a good hour before he sat
up and brought his attention back to the Governmental
Issue Device Item 0110. His eyes lingered over the
wondrous object, his fingers resting on the QWERTY style
keyboard. With lips pursed, a big sigh, carefully he
began inputting: Central High School, Flagstaff, Arizona.
Which thereupon there came yet another surprising prompt:
YEAR?
A more substantial gulp followed by a long-long pause.
Then he typed in--1980.
In the Command Prompt screen: Central High School,
Flagstaff, Arizona, 1980 A.D. Y/N?
August gulped yet again and pressed the appropriate
alphabet letter (Y). To wit the screen blanked out to be
replaced by: PRESS ENTER WHEN READY.
August was more befuddled than ever. What the fuck? What
the fuck did THAT mean? What he assumed he shook his head
to. It wasn't possible. Sure the Device was a marvelous
invention, sure it could manipulate another person's
mind, make him invisible, and so on and so forth--but
Time Travel? That was a bit much.
But then again...
Semi excitedly, a lot concerned (for his welfare) he
clenched up and pressed the pulsating gray ENTER sensory
touch button.
Timing is Everything
Chapter 10: Tripping
A strange but not too all unfamiliar wave of nausea swept
over him, enveloping him, seething and teeming within
him, his very soul. Every fiber of his being was on fire.
There's being seasick and then there's BEING SEASICK. He
retched, hurled, snorted, convulsed and felt as if though
a million tiny stick pins were sticking him, just having
been removed from an ice box. Then, nano seconds later
those same stick pins were re-sticking him once more
having just been removed from a fiery furnace.
This process repeated itself over and over all the while
he reeled in his illness. There was nothing to see,
nothing to hear. His mind was fuddled with delusions,
swimming in a sea of black ooze with mismatched shapes
and sizes.
At length he felt as if though he were floating. There
was no concise thought, nothing substantial, nothing
logical. His body continued to violently retch, heave,
contort oddly and send him further and further into
oblivion.
After a considerable amount of time--or what he supposed
was such, he began noting that he was indeed seemingly a-
float in a sea--a black sea. The sea was unlike any sea
he knew of, he was at least not drowning and there was
the significant lack of "wetness" normally associated
with floating in water.
No salty taste, either. There were, though, waves. Huge
crashing waves that pounded him. He soon began to swim
finding that he body had at last ceased retching. The
huge waves and surges began propelling him along, much
like an actual sea. He noted that within the tumbling
waves shapes. Objects. It was near black as proverbial
pitch and making out the shapes and objects was near
impossible.
Nothing made sense, that was for sure. He could recall
nothing, not even who he himself was; his only point of
being was to keep from drowning. He did his best at that
continuing to swim. He so noted that, too, he was not
cold. The "water" was seemingly without texture,
substance, or temperature. A trapezoid he saw baring down
on him; an elongated triangle then several misshapen
shapes of various sizes in the same wave. August sucked
in his breath and forced himself downward beneath the
tumultuous surface.
This did little good as the "surge swell" grabbed him and
propelled him up and about the cascade. There was naught
to do but hang on and live with it. But he struggled as
he floundered, still not knowing thing one who he was or
what he was doing where he was or anything.
Not until he was thrown somewhat roughly onto the shore.
A beach, of sorts. It was still dark, black as pitch. He
could sense nothing; no sensations of anything--it was
all rather bland. Whether this was significant he had no
idea. He could see nothing, hear nothing, smell nothing.
He stood--at least he presumed he was standing--and
waited. He wasn't tired, just terribly-terribly confused.
Soon his eyes brought to his frapped mind something that
resembled trees. Palm trees he assumed. Advancing upon
them from the crashing waves on the small shore behind
him he saw that the trunks of these shoreline trees:
isosceles, polygons, trapezoids, ellipses, polynomials,
polyhedrons, along with numbers indicating something like
coordinates.
Shapes. Dimensional-mathematical shapes, geometrical
shapes. He couldn't for the life of him finger out why?
Then, as he moved in closer for a closer inspection the
tree he focused in on and yea the who area about it (and
him) warbled.
There was a slight ringing in his ears, the "space"
warbled more and more, faster and faster until there was
such a vibration that in the center there came a small
pinpoint of light.
The light pierced into the bleak darkness surrounding him
and like a red lazer shone onto his chest. (whether he
was clothed or not he couldn't remember.) The light-hole
grew large, he heard mixed sounds; sounds of voices, a
cacophony of voices mingled in with the sounds of
something shredding, tearing, ripping. These latter
sounds seemingly to be heard from within a great
cavernous room, muffled somehow.
Then, as the light grew brighter August saw PEOPLE moving
about on the other side. No one seemed to be paying any
attention to him or the disturbance. He made out these
people, teenagers, in walking shorts, tight white shirts,
tennis skirts, blue walking shorts, beige. Girls. Teenage
girls. Girls in jeans, jean shorts, bib overalls,
cheerleader outfits.
The light diminished in brightness and the "hole" created
was now large enough for August to step thru. So he did.
*****
Timing Is Everything
"Hey, watch where I'm running, dumbass!" chirped a gruff
male jock voice; this after August struggled to pick
himself up off of the cement walkway. He shook his head
to look up and see Bret Bartlett, all-star school jock
and all-around star asshole.
August gulped and shook the cobwebs out of his mind,
there were flecks of odd-shaped rectangles and boxes and
coordinates swimming about his vision. But it was Bret
Bartlett for sure.
A small gathering of girls milled about, giggling and
laughing, pointing and making small talk. Some other
"jocks" milled about continuing their efforts to further
instill that they shouldn't be allowed to breed.
August scrambled to a standing position and glared Brett
and his dumb-as-bricks cohorts. Brett stared back and
ceased smiling.
"What, you want to make something of it?" chirped a so-so
Brett.
August said nothing but clenched his fist and stared at
the teen. The gathering crowd grew somewhat quiet but a
slight chant had begun (Fight! Fight! Fight!)
Brett made a sudden jab-flinch. August reacted as he
should and flinched at the suddenness. To wit there came
an uproarious chuckle from Brett which cascaded down to
the gathering.
August hauled off and smacked the head monkey in the jaw
followed by a pummel to the stomach. It was unexpected
and Brett doubled over. August brought his knee up and
smacked the youth in the nose. There was blood
everywhere. The jock went to his knees and August glared
at the others: "Anyone else?" the jocks retreated.
"You broke my fucking nose!" shouted in a terrified
shocked voice Brett. "Motherfucker you're gonna die!"
"Famous last words, turd." August chirped and turned to
walk away.
Brett naturally made a lunge. It was expected. August
pummeled him with his elbow into the teen's chest without
even turning about. Brett fell away to curl up and retch
on the sidewalk.
The "incident" was taking place under the covered
breezeway between Science Annex "C" and General Math. The
breezeway was with waist high cement fencing--painted
school color lime green. August swung his legs over and
walked out into the grassy area between the buildings, no
direction at all--just away from the "incident." He set
his eyes on the tree. The Senior Tree of Knowledge. It
was dead center of the senior quad. It was shady and no
freshman or any lower classman dared sit beneath the rite
of passage icon; it had been in place long before the
school had been and was said to have (in its early days)
been the site of many hangings.
August sat on the white bench surrounding the tree. His
mind was still not his own and needed much clarification.
He could still see the gathered teens at the breezeway;
he saw, too, Mr. Beamer and Ms. Karmichel racing to the
scene and some pointing fingers in August's direction.
Security guard Hammond came lopping across the quad and
making his way to the scene as well.
August held his hands together in deep thought. English
Hall, the Library, Student Lounge, Trela Hace, Lori
James, Radio Hall, Music Lab. Across from those the
cafeteria then the great choir/drama building. Boys Gym
and then the Girls Gym. Up on the walkway leading down to
the general offices the odd-shaped high school icon stood
with its newly painted surface and polished emblem,
Central High.
Central High. August mulled this over, licking his lips
and being most curious. Something was amiss here--just
what he didn't know. With nothing coming to mind he
sighed deeply and left the Tree of Knowledge and made his
way along, away from the approaching Mr. Beamer.
"Mr. Moone!" the tall 3rd period history teacher called.
August ignored him. He didn't quicken his steps but Mr.
Beamer did, he could hear the man's jingling keys and
rustling clothes. "Mr. Moone stop!"
August shook his head, not looking back, and continued
his forward destination, the parking lot beyond the tree
line and sidewalk.
Mr. Beamer raced up and grabbed August by the shoulder.
August whirled on him with glare and disdain.
"Now you watch it, mister, we're going to the office."
and the man once more tempted fate by placing his hand on
August's shoulder. August quickly rebuked this and
continued glaring.
"Now you listen, smart ass, you're in enough as it is."
"FUCK YOU!" August blurted and kept going.
"That's it, you're outta here!" shouted Mr. Beamer.
"Bite me!" shouted back August.
Out in the student parking lot he searched and searched,
searching for something special but then again--not
exactly certain for sure what that was. Not until he saw
two things--Carla Holmes and a '75 Triumph.
Carla Holmes was NOT his girlfriend, but could be. They
were "friends" and HAD gone out on small date-like
affairs. He hadn't gotten anywhere with her--she was
afraid to go too far and wind up like Suzy Kellerman who
was six months pregnant.
The '75 Triumph was a lean mean get up and go machine.
Suzy walked thru the parking lot, she didn't have a car
and was walking home, it was just after 6th period and
the cutesy junior didn't have 7th or 8th period classes.
"Suzy!" August called out, "Need a ride?" August quickly
made an intercept course to the bouncy girl, sure she was
a year younger, but she was cute, acknowledged his
presence on the Earth, and was cute. Short blond hair,
well rounded face w/dimples, dazzling blue eyes, a great
sweet smile, and a fantastic set of---
She smiled and seemed to become illuminated as August
approached her. She shrugged and August helped her onto
his bike. August gave one look back to the school,
something dark & bleak crossed his mind--but left just as
quickly. He saw Mr. Beamer standing with Vice Principal
Matthers, the VP gave the "Come here" signal with a flail
of his arm. August gave him a signal back, too...
Close by and on the way home to Suzy's house there was an
A&W Root beer place. August stopped there and got the two
a large frosty root beer float. Small talk came between
them, August's young mind was filled solely with seeing
the young girl naked, sprawled out and his salami
slamming DEEP inside her. She had the sweetest smile,
most gracious eyes, softest skin...
After their shared root beer they zoomed on down main
street, blasting through a red light and across a service
station lot to avoid stopping for a right turn. Suzy
clung to his motorcycle jacket, knees pressing to his
hips, clinging on for dear life.
Finally he pulled up into the drive where she lived.
August sat back gazing at her, Suzy blushed and bit her
lip. August noted the absence of any vehicles and the two
oil stains on the driveway. "Well, I guess I'll see you
tomorrow?" shyly the girl chirped.
August rolled his shoulders and furled his lips, "Ain't
you gonna ask me in?"
"I don't think so, Auggie, my folks--"
"Aren't here." August added for her.
The girl thought it over. August eyed her and deeply
imagined her taking a shower, laying out on her bed
naked. His bone increased ultra dimensionally within his
tight 501s. "'side," he amended, "I need to use your
bathroom."
"Don't you have a bathroom at home?" she persisted on
putting him at bay.
"Yeah, but, uh--" he smirked, smiled, rolled his
shoulders and leaned onto the handlebars, "I gotta go
NOW!"
Suzy blushed more and bowed her pretty head, swishing
about embarrassingly-like.
"Hey, no worries--uhm, I'll just go over there by the
tree." and he casually swung a leg over facing the
direction to the great oak by the side of the family
drive.
The house was in a neighborhood that was--nice. Upscale
moderate with medium income level families. The yard was
well manicured with bushes serving as the
boundary/property line.
"Okay! Okay!" shouted the girl still embarrassed. She was
still all smiles and blushing and not angry with him. He
followed behind her gently swishing ass as she rounded
the extended garage sticking out into the drive, around
the rose bushes and brick flowerbed.
August had never been in Suzy's house, barely had he been
to her house period. Inside was cozy, kitchen and dinning
to the left with living room and den to the right. No one
was home, Suzy had two other siblings, both younger and
both boys.
"Bathroom's down the hall." she quipped as she slung her
books into a chair and entered into the kitchen. "Would
you like a soda?" she asked, despite the fact that they
had just had a killer root beer float.
"Sure." he answered moving slowly down the hall. (no, he
didn't really need to "use the bathroom" it was just a
ploy.
But, once inside the bathroom he took a nosey look
around, noted the wicker hamper and peeked in. He was
more than delighted--finding a treasure trove of clothes-
-specifically undies. He snagged a pair and sniffed the
crotch and carefully examined it, noting the "skid-marks"
and pee stains. The undies he stuffed into his pocket and
scammed for some more. After a few moments, and two more
narly pairs of undies later, he flushed the toilet and
exited.
"I'm in here!" perked the girl. Bedroom. August smiled,
gouged his cock with the heel of his hand and peeked into
the open door to Suzy's room.
Dang, she was still clothed. She was still all kinds of
embarrassed, though but had kicked off her shoes. August
occupied the threshold and blocked her attempt to leave.
He held her, hugged her and put a kiss on her that
practically melted her.
She at first resisted. At first. Then embraced the rugged
biker and Frenched him. Their bodies meshed and his hands
began roaming all about her person--mostly up and down
her back until moving down (south) to her delicious butt.
Suzy quickly grabbed his hand to try and move it, but
August held it firm and began moving the girl to her bed.
Suzy began to panic, "I can't, Auggie, I can't!" she
wailed and pushed August back. August stared at her, Suzy
no longer was embarrassed, blushing, or anything in the
persona of a bashful risqu‚ girl.
'Fucking bitch!' August said to himself. 'If I had
something to make you--'
In his mind something flashed off. He shook his head and
nearly stumbled. He heard Suzy's voice but not the words.
He blinked and saw that the room was beginning to spin.
In about the room there were glowing green numbers,
triangles, polygons, boxes within boxes. Red numbers,
yellow elongated boxes, all swirling about his head.
"August, I'm sorry." he heard her voice plainly. "Are you
all right?" she asked out of concern.
August felt himself leaning against the outside wall, it
was dark within the house, cool. Only the light of day
filled the house, it was quiet and still.
"You-you said something about a soda?"
Suzy stood before with her hands before her, she nodded
and then made her way to the kitchen. August gulped and
remained where he was staring at her ass as she moved.
****
He stared at her, for how long he didn't know. They sat
at the kitchen table, quiet and still. After his little
"episode" and the soda he desired a smoke. While digging
in his back pocket for his smokes he found not his smokes
but something like a cigarette case. But it WASN'T a
cigarette case.
It was three times as big as a regular old person's ciggy
case and not the goofy silver color but kind of gray. As
soon as he opened it--strange things occurred. Mostly in
his mind. The first was a strong wave of confusion.
Lingering about that were visions of things he was only
so-so familiar with.
There was a rush and a sudden awareness of being.
It was a little frightening--if not perplexing.
He sat at the table staring at Suzy Holmes. 'Holy shit.'
he wheezed to himself. His eyes then glanced down to the
Device. It looked different than before, than usual. His
mind was still fuzzy and not quite clear on what had
happened to him. Only partly did he realize the depth of
trouble he was in.
Several minutes passed before he felt himself--er, one of
his selves. Slowly he began to realize (somehow) that he
WAS two peoples: he was himself back in 1980 as a senior
at Central High, and he was also August Moone twenty
years from the future.
Reality, what a concept.
Tapping his fingers together he gave this some thought.
He didn't completely understand it, but then again--since
acquiring the Device, he didn't understand a lot of
things...
Sitting back staring at the very lovely and demure Suzy
his mind flashed forward--in recollection only--to his
last moments in June 2000: Central High School,
Flagstaff, Arizona, 1980 Y/N? ENTER.
'nuff said.
It had worked, apparently.
It was a bit tough to swallow, but he had no other
choice. He could feel the table, hear the hum of the air
conditioner, feel the air moving, hear the click-clock of
the grandfather clock, and smell the wondrous strawberry
fragrance of a one Suzy Holmes. According to the Device,
she was "under." He didn't recall how it had happened,
there was some "gaps" in his memory, but he was willing
to let that go. Sally Holmes. Strangely he didn't
remember a lot about her, only that she had been nice to
him, nicer than most of the other girls of his class and
of the 24.
'Welp, might as well make the best of it.' he said to
himself. He stood sized up the situation, mulled,
contemplated, fucked up the possible future and picked up
the Device.
"Take off your clothes." he said in a low mono voice.
Slowly before his eyes Suzy complied. August leaned
against her dresser as the zombiefied teen followed with
the spoken command sent via Device.
He had her Stop when just at her panties. He liked a girl
in her panties. Suzy wore stripped pink and white
panties, bikini style. Very nice. The wheels in Auggie's
mind began to turn, slowly, but turn just the same.
He nextly "commanded Suzy to lay out on her bed; of which
she readily complied. August then stripped out of his
clothes and the fun was to begin!
He had her hand guide up and down his cock, clutch his
balls, and masturbate for him--her hand inside her
stripped panties. She apparently knew how to frig herself
and Auggie was pleased with that. He liked, too, her
lovely bouncy titties; they flattened out as she laid out
but were still apple size (and delicious).
He slid her panties off himself, opened her legs and
marveled at her well trimmed bush. It was slightly musty
smelling but that was okay, he noshed, licked, sucked,
nipped and finally slid his schlong into her poon and
began fucking her--discovering that she was NOT a virgin.
"Who have you had sex with?" he asked whisperingly into
her ear.
"Adam." she whispered back.
"Adam who?"
"My cousin, Adam."
August smiled and continued humping, kissing her and
fondling her titties; Suzy humping back, cumming,
shuddering, and getting into the "groove" of the doings.
Her last time with Cousin Adam was during the Christmas
holidays.
They had first fucked when she was twelve, he was
fourteen at the time. She sucked his cock and he fucked
her in the ass, too. It was consensual, she was more (or
less) just curious as she had seen him jerking off behind
the house. Curiosity led to one thing and then another
and then to the both of them naked in the basement where
Suzy found her self in quite a predicament. Through the
years when he came to visit they did it again. As she got
older she knew it was wrong and all, but it had already
started. She made him wear a condom when he fucked her--
but just when he boned her pussy--the mouth and asshole
were still "free-range."
August fucked her without the use of a rubber; legs up
against his sweating body he nailed her good, emptying
all that he could fascinated with watching her breasts
jiggle while he boned her.
He rested, fondled himself and watched his ooze ooze out
of Suzy's cunt. He rolled her over and began diddling her
asshole, spanking her, caressing her. He slowly felt the
presence of himself and--himself! He felt himself August
Moone of 2000 as well as August Moone 1980. It was a most
odd feeling of realization.
He gave Suzy another good doinking up the butt, spanked
her, and then took a quick shower. Suzy he allowed to get
redressed, but left her in that "fucked" feeling. He was
moving down the hall straightening out his hair when the
front door opened.
"Suzy?" came a voice coming thru the door jiggling keys.
"Whose motorcycle is that out in the drive?"
August, thinking (and acting) quickly, zapped the woman.
He himself was now in control--er, August 2000. He
wondered how this was going to work--to be himself or be
himself of 1980? Who would control Who? When? There were
problems he realized with this happenstance. It could be
something akin to having a split personality.
He decided to think on it later--currently he had Ms.
Holmes to deal with.
While undressing (again) in Suzy's mother's bedroom,
August noted something of note--in the dresser he saw
himself--as he was in 1980. He was eighteen, his hair
long, rugged features, etc. He looked exactly like he did
in 1980. He didn't pretend how this strange phenomenon
worked, only to rest assured that it did indeed--work.
Ms. Holmes lay out on her bed, naked. August reeled in
watching her strip for him. His bone got sooooooooo hard.
Part of him realized the reasoning for this--he was an
eighteen year old kid--naturally someone like Ms. Holmes
(who had a hot body regardless) was going to turn him on.
He sank himself into her for a glorious fuck.
He found her asshole was tight and virginal. She had
never given head and only sometimes gripped her husband's
cock. Being August of 2000 he had to ask--had she ever
had sex with her boys?
No.
Had she ever WANTED to?
No.
She was a drag. August banged off in her and left her on
her bed, naked and in a fucked-horny state of being. He
showered again then paused long enough to dink with the
two's minds: clearing them and implanting new notions. It
was then onto his bike and off...
His parents had kicked him out when he was fifteen. He
didn't blame them, he was an asshole. He regretted some
of his early teen doings, and lightly wondered if there
was a way to correct it? Or should he? Serious
contemplation was needed here--the consummation of
interfering with his PAST could have serious detrimental
changes in his future.
And that would be bad.
Into the backdrop of August 1980 he went, allowing the
rebel to go where he willed. Which was to a small dingy
apartment downtown. August 2000 chilled out to
contemplate the mysteries that plagued while August 1980
changed clothes, grabbed a bit to eat at the nearby
crappy restaurant and then off to work--at Mr. Peter's
Wrecking Yard!
As he "rested" in 1980 August he of August of 2000 became
more and more cognizant of his being, though not his
purpose. Some things were still a little fuzzy and hard
to grasp, but for the most part he remembered who he was
and how he had come to be BACK 20 years in his past.
Now the only questioned remained was--could he get BACK
to where he wanted to be--July of 2000? While 1980 August
"slept" August of 2000 checked over the newly conformed
Device. Why it had "changed" he had no idea, was this
significant? It seemed the same, just smaller and in a
different order. On a whim he pressed the same sequence
of color symbols as before, and when the command prompt
prompted him Destination? He typed in July 2000.
However, there came the reply on the screen Does Not
Compute Please Retype Destination.
August did so.
Does Not Compute, Please Retype Destination.
Uh-oh.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life in
anyway shape or form.
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