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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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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2002.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  You may post freely to non-commercial
"free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites.
Thank you for your consideration.
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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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