Bardell, Minnesota was a nice town. Small and friendly, with two big industrial plants to provide plenty of tax money. The village volunteer fire department boasted some of the most modern equipment in the state. Old Cornelius Bardell III, the mayor, was the third generation owner of the Bardell Grocery and his son would have been the fourth. But when they moved into town, things changed in old Bardell.
It was a cool night near the end of March when John and Mimi Partrige moved into the apartment above Corny's store. Mrs. Bardell hadn't liked the looks of young Partrige ("He's got a big black mustache!"), but Willie Wienenkughel had recommended him. All the fears Elizabeth had about renting to a man with a furry lip were confirmed within five minutes after the Partriges arrived.
Jerry O'Connor came out of Harry's Bar that evening just a little bit under the weather. He staggered to his Edsel and got in, bumping his head on the door. O'Connor swore violently at his automobile and hit it with his closed fist. Then he cursed his stinging fist and drove out of the parking lot. Across the intersection he could see the new people moving into Corny's apartment. Blinking his eyes in amazement, Jerry muttered to himself. "Sweet Jesus, it just can't be. I should have skipped those last two hookers and beers." But as he drove closer he saw that he was not mistaken. There were John and Mimi Partrige on top of a mattress, butt-assed-naked.
John kissed her smooth white thighs lovingly, brushing his fuzzy mustache closer and closer to her own mustache. O'Connor swung his car into Corny's lot. He had heard that the new tenants were college students, and he knew all college students are a little weird, but this was too much. Mimi's mouth found John's bulging prick just as he buried his head between her thighs. Their passionate sobs greeted O'Connor as he got out of his car. He blushed and cleared his throat.
Dragging his slick dick across her tits and over her belly, John mounted his beautiful wife and started fucking. Stunned by the sight, O'Connor stood there and watched as John's big penis jabbed in and out of his wife's hairy hole. Soon Mimi squealed with joy and kicked her legs wildly as her orgasm sent joy juice squirting from her cunt. She bucked John off for a second and his giant red dong throbbed and pounded as if it would explode. But Mimi's nimble fingers found the slippery spear and poked it back in just in time for John's eruption. John closed his eyes and slammed his hips against hers as his nuts boomed out the jazz. Eventually the couple sat up and started slipping into their clothes. Giving another embarrassed cough, Jerry O'Connor came forward.
"You, ugh, you folks can't fuck here," O'Connor stuttered. "Excuse the language, ma'am. But you really can't do that here."
"We just did, you creep. Go peddle your papers," snapped Mimi.
"Yeah. Get out of here before I call the cops and report you for sneaking around like a peeping-tom, you peeping-tom," John laughed as he zipped up his pants. O'Connor was thunderstruck. He was the police force.
"Listen, you punk. Don't smart off to me, or I'll run you downtown. I'm chief of police around here." He searched for his badge, but it was in his other pants.
"We are downtown, you idiot. Harry's Bar on one corner and the Bardell Grocery on the other. Isn't that as downtown as you can get? Go home and sober up, pal, or I'll report you for impersonating a police officer and insulting my wife."
O'Connor was so flustered he didn't know which way to turn. He stepped towards John, shaking a finger at him. If it hadn't been for Mimi's quick thinking, John probably would have punched the drunken cop in the nose. Mimi threw back her blouse which she'd only half-buttoned. Her boobs bounced seductively in front of her as she stepped in front of Jerry.
"Look, mister, if you don't want to go home yet why don't you come upstairs with me?" she cooed. Placing her hands on her hips, Mimi slid her tight slacks slowly down until her furry twat appeared. She swayed her hips gracefully and forced her hard brown nipples against the startled O'Connor.
"I gotta go. I gotta go home now," stammered the cop. He turned and fled back to his car. As he tore down the road the Partriges laughed and went back to moving their bed up the steps of their new apartment. Across the street Dick Hienzen wondered what the cop had stopped for. Little did he know that the sexual revolution had just broken out in old Bardell.
The next morning John went into the grocery store beneath his apartment for a loaf of bread. Old Cornelius smiled at John and asked how the first night in Bardell had gone.
"Well, we had a little trouble with a drunk from across the street," John said. "Some guy driving a green Edsel stopped and pestered us for a few minutes as we were moving in. He claimed he was chief of police or something."
"Drove an Edsel you say?" chuckled Corny, his massive belly bouncing beneath his bright red butcher's apron, "That was O'Connor. I'm afraid he is the cop in town. He does tend to get a little snapped up on his nights off. He's a good man though, you'll like him once you get to know him."
With that John said good day and went up the steps for breakfast. John and Mimi drove into White Cloud to attend classes at the state college at nine o'clock that morning. When they returned at four in the afternoon the word had spread through Bardell that the couple living above the store were hippies or something worse.
"I'm going across the street for a drink," John told Mimi. "Might as well get acquainted with the local drunks."
"Don't stay too long, dear. My cunt is getting hot for your meat."
Giving his wife's joy box a little goose, John strolled out the door and crossed the street to Harry's Bar. As he entered the place all eyes turned to stare suspiciously and then quickly darted away. A nervous silence came over the ten customers. Wally Polsky, the bartender, gave John a cold glance and nodded a greeting.
"Beer," John ordered, "And a shot of bourbon on the side."
"Any special brand on the bourbon?"
"I. W. Harper, if you've got it."
Wally served up a glass of tap beer and poured out a shot of booze. By the time he had turned to the cash register and back with John's change the shot had disappeared. John indicated he wanted another by shoving the empty shot glass toward Wally. After downing three quick ones, John relaxed and lit a smoke. The rest of the customers had watched in silence as he belted down the shots, and now they began to buzz back and forth. Eventually a big tall fellow with a scarred face started harping in a loud drunken voice.
"Yeah, Willie Wienenkughel was tellin' me the other day that them college kids elected a nigger to office or something. I don't know if it's true, but goddamn Willie told me. Said a nigger got elected head of all the college kids or something. What the hell was Willie sayin' the other day, Wally? About the nigger gettin' elected over at the college?"
"I don't know, Lennie. I was-was so damn busy I didn't get a chance to listen to the whole story. I think it was just something like best athlete or something."
"Most Eligible Bachelor On Campus," John informed them.
Lennie Johnson looked through his twisted scars at John, as if trying to figure out if John was really there or not. "Most Eligible Bachelor On Campus, huh? What the hell is that?" he asked.
"It doesn't mean a thing, actually. Every spring the girls at the college vote on who's the best looking and most likeable guy on the campus. This year they picked a fellow named Walter Bogart, who happens to be as black as the ace of spades."
"Jesus Christ. I heard that fuckin' college was full of loonies, but I didn't think it was that bad."
"Hell," chimed in another fellow. "I hear them niggers go out with white gals over at the college. Is that true?" Now all the local drunks stared anxiously at John. A simple denial of the fact would deliver them from this horror. Rumors of black boys dating white girls had been going around town for a year or so now. Everybody in Bardell knew that there were niggers and commies and all kinds of evil people in White Cloud, but they had a fellow right here who'd know the real truth. John cleared his throat and answered:
"All the time," he sputtered, not letting on whether he approved or not. "The story is that the black man's dick is bigger than yours or mine. Of course I don't believe that bullshit. I think those girls just date blacks because it's something different."
"I don't know," slurred Lennie, as he finished off a full glass of beer in one gulp. "When I was in service I seen some black bastards that had some awful good sized wangs on 'em. Course I never seen 'em hard. Maybe a niggers dick don't get no bigger when it gets hard. But most of them jigs I seen in the Army had big ones. Why one guy's was bigger soft than mine is hard."
"What about them nigger gals? I hear a nigger girl will fuck at the drop of a hat. You know anything about the gals over there?" asked Cy Stangle.
"Most of the girls won't go out with white guys. That's where the idea that black guys peckers are bigger comes from I guess. The girls at White Cloud State are pretty leery of white guys, because most white guys think just like you said, that a black girl will fuck anybody. I know one guy who goes with a black girl. He says she doesn't fuck any different than a white girl."
A brandy salesman came in and bought a round of drinks for everyone. The fellows chattered amongst themselves about the shocking facts they had just heard. Eventually the bartender couldn't restrain his curiosity. Wally sidled up to John, looked casually about and lowered his voice. In a highly confidential manner he asked:
"Say, do you know just exactly how many Communists there are in the college?"
"As far as I know there aren't any since Ted Rickert got fired."
"Oh come on now," Wally looked disgusted.
Wally was the leader of the local chapter of the Minute Men. He had a list of commies in the White Cloud area and most of them were professors at the college. "I've seen a list of Communists, and at least six of them were teachers at the college."
"Say, what's this I hear about you and your wife screwing in the parking lot of Corny's Store?" interrupted Lennie Johnson. "Wally, give this kid a drink on me. Now what the hell happened last night?" He moved closer to John.
"I think the local police chief had a few too many last night," John smiled. "He was pretty confused when he stopped to talk to my wife and I. I don't know where the idea that we were screwing in the parking lot came from. Hell, do I look like the kind of a guy who'd do something like that?"
"Well now I guess you don't. But a guy never can tell about you college people. I hear there's all kinds of weird stuff goes on over to the college. Especially in the art section. You know them artists are pretty odd. What are you going to school for? Teacher?"
"Yeah. Yeah, that's right. I'm studying to be an English teacher. Well, thanks for the drink, but I gotta get back in time for supper."
Mimi had something for John to eat alright, but it was between her thighs. She met him at the door and started taking off his clothes. Her quick fingers undid his zipper and stroked his magic wand carefully until it was aching with an erection. Dropping to her knees, Mimi sucked all of his pounding penis into her hungry mouth and sent her tongue tracing the outline of his knob.
She licked his foreskin vigorously and tickled his pee-hole, at the same time her fingers played gently with his balls and goosed his rectum.
Pulling his dick from her mouth, John picked his nude wife up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom. On the bed the couple stretched out in a sixty-nine position and set to work stimulating each other's sex organs with their tongues. Mimi squealed happily and tightened her legs around John's head as he stroked her proud little clitoris with his tongue. Spreading her fleshy cunt lips with his hands, John buried his mouth in her juicy pink vagina and sent his tongue snaking in and out, hitting her tiny joy stick on each entry.
Mimi left his prick for a moment and placed his wrinkled sack in her mouth. Bouncing his balls back and forth with her tongue, Mimi felt her husband tremble with a spasm of pleasure. Quickly she bobbed her lovely head back to his throbbing joy prong and swallowed it. Now his knob had swollen to the size of an apple and Mimi strained her jowls, sucking excitedly.
In a fit of frenzy, John nibbled roughly at Mimi's clit, triggering a flow of pussy juice that almost drowned him. A wave of white hot joy exploded from his nuts and spread to his guts as Mimi sucked a pint of white gizzom from his pounding prick.
Before his cock could go soft again, John whirled around and thrust his dripping dong up Mimi's gaping twat. Pumping vigorously, John started his nuts working toward another explosion. He looked down across his wife's heaving boobs, over her narrow waist and spreading hips to her furry V. His prick, bulging with purple blood vessels, shot in and out of her hairy mound like a drill rig. Each time he pulled it from her cunt she sobbed and tugged at his ass, thrusting him back in up to the balls.
With one graceful movement of her hips, Mimi sent John's glistening tube up her anus. He watched in amazement as she gyrated her body, taking him now in her cunt, now in her ass. Soon his dong was tinted light brown and the sweet smell of Mimi's rectum drifted up from their seething crotches.
Then Mimi began to moan and sigh. She closed her eyes and rolled her head back and forth. Keeping his cock in her cunt now, she sent her talented hips in a slow circle, grinding his meat lovingly. Her fingers dug into his buns and she forced his wang up her box until it almost reached her ovaries. A scalding rush of come squirted from her female tubes and splashed against his wand.
After her orgasm was finished, Mimi shifted John's dong to her ass again. The come dripped from her exhausted cunt and onto his meat as it slid easily in and out of her bung hole. In a few strokes he was ready to deposit his second load of jazz and his huge knob drove the nerve ends of her rectum to distraction. His rocks pounded twice and a big glob of sperm shot up into her poop shoot, scalding her colon.
"No fair. You got to come twice and I only came once!" teased Mimi as they lay happily in each other's arms.
"I'll make it up to you after supper," promised John.
"Did you meet any nice people at the bar? I mean anybody who might want to come up and see us?"
"To tell you the truth, honey, I don't think there's anyone in Bardell that goes for our kind of entertainment," John laughed. "The bartender thinks there are commies on the faculty at State, perverts in the art department and lunatics in the student body."
"That's a perfect description of the college, silly bear. But don't worry. We'll make some friends. OH! I almost forgot supper!"
"I can eat you," joked John, nibbling at her cunt.
She pulled herself away and ran to the kitchen to finish the evening meal. John walked to the bathroom and stepped in the shower. Across the street Dick Hienzen carved a roast for his wife and ten children. He listened to his wife banter on about how O'Connor had caught the hippies having a love-in in Corny's parking lot. Bullshit, he thought.
CHAPTER TWO
Willie Wienenkughel
Willie was pissed off. As he walked the five blocks from his job at DeZurkee's to his home in Bardell he swore bitterly and shook his head. He was a respected man in Bardell. Although he hadn't made the village council last election, he was Justice of the Peace and a member of the fire department. When there was a fire during working hours, Willie was always the first one to answer the call, since DeZurkee's was right next to the fire hall. He got to drive the truck most of the time.
You could say that Willie was the town historian. He was only thirty-six years old, but he knew almost as much about the town's past as old Corny did. When Wienenkughel's grandparents had moved into the area years ago, the Ku Klux Klan had burned a cross on their property to let them know that German Catholics were not welcome. Now the village had a Catholic grade school and the KKK had been replaced by the Minute Men. Willie was a member of the John Birch Society, and although he supported the Minute Men he did think they were a little too radical. But if the commies or the niggers ever did move in, it was nice to know that there are fifty or more well trained men with weapons waiting in the wings.
Shit, thought Willie as he kicked a can violently. He was in hot water now. Willie had helped young John Partrige find a place to stay in Bardell. Mrs. Bardell was dead set against renting to college students, but Willie said he knew the kid. Which was Willie's big mistake. He'd only met John Partrige once. Wienenkughel's father had known Partrige's grandfather or something like that. Anyhow, the kid had sweet talked Willie into fixing it up with old Elizabeth Bardell and now it turns out that they get mixed up with the cop the first night in town.
He tossed his jacket across the room and snapped at his wife. She shrugged her shoulders and picked up the jacket. Willie frequently had bad days at DeZurkee's. The company was going to merge with a big corporation, and Willie knew that two of the new superiors the large outfit had brought in were commies. She calmly finished setting the table.
"I hear the couple you got for Corny's apartment moved in," she said.
"Don't lip off to me tonight, Shirley," he barked.
"I was just trying to say a polite word to you," she complained. "You don't have to bite my head off for nothing."
"Where have you been all day?" he shouted. "Do you keep your head buried in the sand like a goddamn penguin?"
"You mean ostrich," she muttered, "And you know I was at the doctor's office today."
"Always the goddamn doctor! I slave my ass off for what? So you can go to the goddamn doctor and have him stick his finger up your twat. This bullshit has got to stop. Anyhow, that couple that moved into Corny's got into it with O'Connor last night. Nobody knows for sure what the hell happened, but the story is they were all doped up on narcotics and running around Corny's parking lot nude. Jerry was drunk, so he didn't make an arrest. Now the whole town thinks I brought a couple of hippies into Bardell."
Willie got a bottle of beer out of the refrigerator and belted it down. He opened another and went in the living room to read the evening paper. It didn't take long before he was beered up enough to start shouting and swearing about those goddamn hippies above the store. Telling his wife to shove supper up her ass, Willie swilled down one last beer, jumped in his old Plymouth and headed for Harry's.
When Wienenkughel walked into the bar there were only two other people in the place. Wally was listening to old Duke, the town drunk, describe how he had fucked three women at one time. It was probably true, mused Willie. The Duke still had women come to his shack on occasion, even though he was seventy-three years old. Duke stumbled into the can and Willie asked Wally for the straight poop:
"I suppose my name is mud around here since last night?" he moaned.
"Oh, I wouldn't go that far, Willie. Jerry might have a few choice words for you. It seems he's sort of a laughing stock. Nobody believes that stuff about those kids cavorting in the parking lot. The joke is that O'Connor was so snapped up he saw naked bodies wherever he looked."
"What the hell do you think?"
"I don't know, Willie. I met the kid about half hour ago. He seemed like a nice kid to me. He's a little soft on Communism, but I don't think he's a sex pervert or a dope addict. He can hold his booze all right, too."
"Well, by God, I guess I better find out for sure. I'm responsible for the kid moving into Bardell. I think I'll just go over there and have a little talk with him. You say he's soft on Communism?"
"Yeah. Claims there aren't any reds at the college since that one pervert got fired. I think the kid's o.k. though."
"We'll see, we'll see. So long!" Willie finished his beer and strutted to his car.
It was a long climb up the steps to the apartment. By the time Willie reached the door he was out of breath and half out of courage. He knocked timidly on the window, half hoping that there was nobody home. Mimi greeted him wearing a blue man's work shirt and a pair of cut-off blue denims. He stared at her with lust in his eyes. She was tall and slim, and her long legs moved gracefully as she walked. Each step she took seemed to advertise the soft, moist nest that perched between her smooth thighs. Even through the baggy oversized shirt she wore, Willie could see her large breasts hanging low, for Mimi almost never wore a bra.
Mimi smiled and moved close to him. She placed her hand gently on his shoulder. Willie sputtered and stalled, trying to say something but not knowing what to say.
"What can I do for you?" Mimi cooed, her voice suggesting that she could do anything a man wanted.
"I'm Winnie Willenkughel ... I mean I'm Willie Wienenkughel. I'd like to talk to Mr. Pheasant. If it's not too much trouble. I mean, I hope Mr. Pheasant is gone ... I mean, I hope he's in. Is he?" Willie wiped the sweat from his brow. His eyes were glued to Mimi's chest, for one of her nipples was peeping through her unbuttoned shirt.
Poor Willie was in a state when he got to the living room. Mimi's round ass swayed from side to side as she walked in front of him, almost hypnotizing him. John Partrige looked up from a book and smiled.
"Why hello, Willie," he beamed. "Nice of you to stop up. We just got settled. Can I offer you a beer? Mimi, get Mr. Wienenkughel and me a beer."
"Well, how do you like Bardell?" stammered Willie after Mimi had fetched a couple of beers from the kitchen.
"Actually, Willie, we really haven't been here long enough to make a decision yet. But we think we'll like the town fine. The local cop wasn't too friendly last night, but I guess he was just drunk."
"Well that's what I heard. Yes sir, I heard all about that today. Heard it at work, heard it at the bar, heard it at the post office. Almost everyplace a person went today he heard the same thing: There's hippies living over Corny's store and Willie Wienenkughel brought them into town. I hate to say it, but you aren't starting out in Bardell on the right foot by getting on the bad side of Jerry O'Connor. No sir."
"At least we're not on the bad side of you, Mr. Wienenkughel," Mimi purred as she snuggled up to Willie. He gulped hard and looked nervously at John. Mimi blew in his ear and rubbed her naked tits against his elbow. Her finger found his zipper and she pulled his cock out of his trousers.
Willie started to stammer a protest, but Mimi dropped to her knees and started sucking him off. The feel of her soft wet jowls and dancing tongue made Willie forget everything. He grabbed Mimi roughly by the ears and bounced her head faster, up and down his slick cock it went.
Wiggling free, Mimi led Willie to the bedroom. He looked around for John, but evidently John had gone elsewhere. When they got to the bedroom Mimi slipped quickly out of her clothes. She laughed at Willie as he stood fumbling with his shirt buttons, his eyes fixed on her naked beauty. His fingers trembled and went numb as she crossed the room towards him.
Her soft, fuzzy twat nestled coyly between her round hips. As she walked her graceful thighs carried her cunt toward him. His eyes climbed up her curved body to her narrow waist, her sunken navel was perfectly centered in her flat belly. A little higher up he saw her breasts hanging like over-ripe melons. He looked into her eyes and saw a sly smile dancing across her face.
Moving close to Willie, Mimi helped him out of his clothes. Then, with a gentle shove, she pushed him onto the bed. With the grace of an acrobat, Mimi jumped on Willie, throwing her thighs around his head. Willie felt her hot mouth devouring his prick and her quick fingers teasing his balls, but he was too shocked at the moment to enjoy the blow job. Mimi's furry box pressed against his face. Cunt hair tickled his cheeks and nose and hot pussy juice dripped out of her orifice and onto his lips.
Gyrating her hips, Mimi ground her honey pot into her captive's mouth. Willie had heard about eating out before. But he never had the nerve to try it on his wife. Her cunt was kind of smelly anyway, he's told the fellows at the fire hall. Might as well give it a try, he thought. Taking a deep breath, Willie poked his tongue between her withered cunt lips. He pushed it way in and gave a quick wiggle. The soft fleshy walls of Mimi's vagina tasted good to Willie. He lapped and sucked at her joy box with gusto. Then his tongue found her clit.
His head jerked back in surprise when he discovered her erect little love stick. He had only brushed it once with his tongue, but it felt to him almost exactly like a little penis. Poor Willie had never searched his wife's fleshy folds for her little man. Mimi was quick to react and tugged his bewildered face back to her seething crotch. This time he sent his tongue right to work on her clitoris, sending streams of pussy juice flowing with each caress of his tongue.
It was quite a time before Willie felt any stirring in his nuts, he had drunk so much booze. But eventually all the mouth and tongue action had its effect. Suddenly he felt a hot sensation buzzing deep in his groin. His rocks started to pound and his muscles twitched with pleasure as uncontrollable sexual ecstasy creeped through his entire body. A wave of bliss passed up his spine as the first drops of his glistening jazz dripped out of his pounding prick. Then he was blinded by the sheer joy of his orgasm as his dong exploded and shot a big wad of gizzom into Mimi's hungry mouth.
Mimi sucked on his dick until the last drops of come had been squeezed out. She kept his tool in her mouth a little longer, trying vainly to restore some hardness to it. But Willie was definitely a one shot man. Mimi didn't let him off that easily though. She kept her legs locked tightly around his head and let his tongue work on her clit.
It was all new to Willie, so he went along with her. Cunt drippings were flowing out of her twat and dribbling down his chin, but he kept on licking her proud little stub. When Mimi finally came, it was a real shock to him. His wife had never experienced orgasm, nor had any of the other women in Willie's limited sexual experience.
The first thing he noticed was a slight tremor in Mimi's thighs and hips. Then her hips ground her cunt into his face so hard it almost smothered him. His mouth and even his nose were forced up her vagina. Now Mimi started to buck and squirm like a young colt. Her hairy mound rose and fell on his mouth, dripping more feminine fluid each time. Finally it came. In a last desperate spasm, Mimi settled her box on Willie's face and let her gizzom squirt into his mouth. He sputtered and coughed and spit, but most of the flood of come went down his gullet.
Mimi slid her wet twat across his face one more time. Then she dragged it down over his chest and belly, cock and balls, and thighs and calves until she jumped off the end of the bed. Willie lay there, a sticky streak of cunt fluid running the length of his body. He watched her getting into a bathrobe. It was then that he realized where he was.
Bolting to his feet, Willie clumsily pulled on his trousers. He had just finished dressing when John came into the bedroom and handed him a beer.
"I hope you aren't leaving so soon," smiled John. "We're just getting to like you."
"I've got to run...." Willie stammered, looking at the floor. He belted down the beer and handed the bottle back to John.
"Well be sure to come back again soon. You'll probably want to see the movies I took tonight. I'll let you know when they are developed."
"Movies? You mean of....that?" he pointed to the bed.
"Of course. I think I got some real good footage, too. You'll laugh when you see yourself watch Mimi undress. You acted like you'd never seen a naked woman before."
John led the stunned Willie to the door. Mimi busied herself in the kitchen. When John had sent Willie safely on his way, he came back to the kitchen and opened a beer.
"Well, Mimi," he sighed. "How many people in Bardell?"
"Seven hundred, thirty-eight."
"Well that's one down and seven hundred, thirty-seven to go."
"Did you give it to him?" Mimi asked.
"Yeah. I put it in the beer I gave him before he left."
Across the street at Harry's, Willie was tossing down a few fast boilermakers. Judy Puhl sat down next to Willie. Her tight skirt stretched across her shapely ass and her fine thighs showed beneath her high hem line. She had been after Willie for years; before, during and after her short marriage. Tonight he seemed to notice her sensuous body for the first time.
"What's new, Willie?" she asked in her deep, sexy voice.
"Not much," he muttered, "Let me buy you a drink."
"Where's the wife tonight?"
"Probably at the doctor's," he snickered. "Who's with your kids tonight?"
"They're at their grandpa's for a week. I'm all alone in that lonesome house. I just dread going home, by myself."
They had three more drinks and then Judy left. Shortly after, Willie walked to his car and drove to Judy's place. Just as he rang her doorbell he felt the first rush of the LSD John had slipped in his beer.
Dick Hienzen couldn't sleep that night. His dogs were barking at the moon.
CHAPTER THREE
Judy Puhl
Judy drove through the night with a smile on her face and an itch in her twat. Judy Puhl was thirty-three years old, five feet three, one hundred and two pounds, red-haired and green-eyed. She wore a thirty-eight C bra, had an eighteen inch waist line and thirty-five inch hips. Her husband had divorced her five years ago for repeated infidelity.
There were very few of the executives at DeZurkee's Manufacturing Company that didn't know Judy Puhl. She worked in the accounting department, and her job seldom took her away from her desk. But after office hours Judy certainly got around. The community put up with the scandalous behavior of Judy Puhl because she usually confined her sexual exploits to the big shots in the company who lived in White Cloud.
Almost fifteen years earlier Judy had flirted with and teased Willie Wienenkughel. When he married Shirley Wiers, Judy had become the town whore, bedding down with every young and old man in the area. Nobody, including Judy, knew if it had been Jack Puhl's baby she carried up the altar when she was twenty-three years old. After five years and two more babies (one of which was definitely not Jack's) the marriage had ended.
When she arrived at her house Judy's excitement had risen to near hysteria. The thought of getting Willie in bed brought goose bumps to her skin and pussy juice to her joy box. Slipping out of her clothes, she wiggled into a lacey, revealing nightgown. Shit, she thought, I don't have a thing in the house to drink. Well I'll just have to keep him occupied some other way.
Willie showed up at the door just as Judy realized she didn't have any booze. He walked right in and grabbed her in his arms. Pressing his mouth to hers, he kissed her passionately. She felt his tongue shoot into her mouth and probe about. Grabbing her by the shoulders, Willie kissed her neck and ran his mouth to her ear where he shot his tongue rapidly in and out.
"Oh, Willie," she sobbed, "I've waited so long."
He didn't say a word, but picked her up gently in his arms and carried her to the bedroom. Judy wondered what had come over him, but she didn't bother to ask, as his hands gently slipped her flimsy garment from her body. Slowly and carefully Willie removed his own clothes and Judy stared in disbelief at the size of his joy prong.
Rising from his black forest was the biggest prick she had ever seen. His wang pounded and pulsed with huge purple blood vessels. The smooth red knob of his joy stick was as big as a ripe apple. Judy's mouth hung open in surprise, and before she knew what was happening that giant wand slid down her throat.
Straining her jaws to accommodate the pounding pecker, Judy started to suck and tongue Willie's meat. A drop of semen moistened his peehole and she licked the salty liquid off. It took both hands to hold the massive rod in place, but she worked her thumbs down to his nuts and bounced them lightly against one another.
Then she felt his lips and tongue contact her feminine opening. Kissing her hairy cunt lips, Willie spread them apart as he had Mimi's. This time he went right to work on the clitoris, sending Judy into a spasm of sexual delight. She almost choked on his prick as she gasped for air in the heat of her passion.
When Judy's cunt was dripping profusely, Willie pulled his wang out of her mouth and lay on his back. Taking Judy by the hips he lifted her onto his penis. Even though she was the town whore, Judy was rightfully frightened about getting a roll of salami the size of Willie's into her meat grinder.
The tip of his big bulb rested against her hole for a second. Her dripping orifice lubricated his hot pink skin and her cunt muscles expanded, wrapping her withered pussy lips around his knob. Both their sex organs were slimy with spit from going sixty-nine, and when Willie pulled down on her hips they were coupled together in one hot, slippery motion.
With a cock as big as Willie's in her, Judy went wild. She was always a frantic fucker, but this time she overdid it. Her pelvis went to work overtime and her cunt flew up and down Willie's tube so fast it flew off the track. Willie jammed his meat back in and tightened his grip on her shapely hips. Then he moved her cunt up and down slowly, inching his dong out bit by bit and sliding it back in just as gradually.
Tears of joy came to Judy's eyes as she felt the fleshy walls of vagina being reamed out by Willie's baseball bat. She trembled for pleasure and swooned to almost unconsciousness, Willie kept his powerful grip on her buttocks and pumped her up and down. After an hour or so Judy felt her ovaries vibrate and secrete female fluid. The ecstasy her orgasm generated was too much for her. Sobbing and moaning loudly, she shook her ass from Willie's hands and began pumping and gyrating.
Gizzom poured down out of Judy's joy box. It trickled down his dong and dripped over his balls and onto his bung hole. She kicked and clawed and screamed with pleasure, jamming Willie's big banana up to her guts. When she finally stopped coming Judy was exhausted.
Tossing her limp body over, Willie jumped on top of Judy and split her juicy hole again. He reached down and spread her buns with his hands. As Judy lay there, numb from pleasure, he pumped away with all his might, first ramming it up her joy box, then sliding it into her tight, hairy poop-shoot.
His nuts banged a steady tempo and Willie felt his sperm climb up through his pipes and into his monsterous magic wand. Just after he poked it into her shitter the juice reached his knob and it swelled to the size of a grapefruit. He tried to pull it out of her crap hole, but it was too big. n a pleasurable fit of pain, Willie blasted a wad of pud into Judy's colon. The force of his ejaculation splattered hot jazz all the way up to her guts and knocked her almost off the bed. Willie looked down at the slimy brown and white pecker that throbbed between his thighs. Before it got half soft he was horny again.
Judy screamed a protest when she saw the crappy, comey cock attacking her face. But before she could turn away it was in her mouth. The taste of jazz and shit was sweet in her mouth, and Wilie wiggled his ass around for her to taste her own sticky gizzom. She licked the stale come from the hair on his bung hole and sucked his ball bag into her mouth. Feeling brave, she shot her tongue right up his anus and tasted the tangy moisture of his rectum walls.
At her lower region, Willie was feasting on his own joy juice. The sperm was slowly dripping down her shit-shoot and Willie was sucking eagerly at her anus, devouring each drop of gizzom that found its way to her hole. When he had sucked up all the come, Willie raised his head from her seething crotch. The effects of the drug John had given him were really working now.
"Spread your legs," he shouted, standing up on the back of the bed. "Open wide, now. I'm coming in."
Bouncing on the springs like a trampoline, Willie sailed through the air and planted a prick in Judy's vagina with the force of a pile driver. Scrambling to his feet again, he ran across the room. Taking his bone in both hands, Willie ran full speed for the bed and dove from about five feet away.
Splat! He drove it far up into her twat, bouncing his balls against her butt. After a few more running jumps into her box, Judy's twat ran out of juice. Willie crash landed against a dry cunt, scraping his tender pink skin against her matted pussy fur. He screamed in pain and ran to the bathroom.
He came back with his dick jammed into a large jar of skin cream. A few more charges from across the room and the skin cream was all used up. Judy was in a state of shock. She begged him to quit, but Willie was really flying high. In a frenzy he rushed out of the room and searched through the house for something else to lubricate his cock with. He returned with his hammer stuck in a two pound jar of peanut butter. Judy screamed in terror.
"No! My God, Willie! Have you gone mad? Help! Please, Willie! I've had enough. We can do it again some other night. Tomorrow, if you want. But don't stick that stuff in me."
Around the room they ran. Judy clutching to a bed sheet, trying to wrap it around herself. Willie, wild-eyed, wielding his greasy brown penis. She made a mad dash for the bathroom, but before she could get the door locked he barged in.
They landed in the bath tub. In the flurry of flying legs and arms the jar of peanut butter was broken and the overhead shower got turned on. Judy fought like a tiger, scalding hot water burning down and broken glass causing several little cuts all over her body. The struggle went on until they both were covered with blood and peanut butter. Then Willie succeeded. His big bone, covered with a thick coating of chunk-style peanut butter, entered her cunt.
Even though Willie was under the influence of LSD, he was no match for Judy. Fear and pain stimulated her much more than any drug could stimulate Willie. Digging her finger nails into his eyes, she found his neck with her teeth and chomped down with the strength of a bulldog. Her legs went into action and a volley of knees pulverized Willie's nuts.
With her free arm, Judy reached down and grabbed Willie's messy prick. Squeezing with all her might, she dug her nails into the bone and his dong started to bleed. Leaving Willie stunned and bleeding in the tub, she streaked out of the room in a state of hysteria. Through the bedroom and living room she ran. Screaming at the top of her voice she bolted through the door and into the arms of Jerry O'Connor who'd come to investigate the noise.
"My God! What's been going on in there?" Jerry looked at her lovely body covered with blood and gook. The hot water had left her skin bright red in spots. O'Connor was not drunk, but the sight of Judy muddled his dull brain. They stood there in the cool night air for several minutes before he gathered his wits. With his arm around her, Jerry led the sobbing woman back into her house. He wrapped her in a blanket and went to the bathroom to get some towels and wash cloths.
"Holy fucking balls! Willie! What the hell...."
Poor Willie was standing over the sink gingerly cleaning off his mawled meat. O'Connor surveyed the room and shook his head. In all his years of police work this was the most bizarre scene he'd ever come across.
"Hi, Jerry," Willie blinked through swollen scratched eye lids. "We had a little wrestling match in the tub. I think I lost."
"I better call an ambulance, Willie. You two look in rough shape. What the hell happened to your pecker?"
"I think her cunt has teeth. Look, don't call anybody. You've got a first aid kit in the squad car, don't you?"
"You're right. Whatever went on here we'd better hush it up."
When Jerry got back from the car he found Willie sitting in front of the toilet bowl. He was flushing it and watching in amazement as the water swirled down the drain. Willie looked up with glee.
"Isn't this fantastic! I've never really looked at a toilet before. Just look at the beauty of this, Jerry."
"Have you flipped your lid? Get a hold of yourself, man."
"Yeah. I've flipped my lid. See, it comes right off." Willie put his hands on the top of his head and lifted them slowly us as if he were taking the top of his head off. O'Connor shook his head and went back to the living room.
For a dunder head, O'Connor was a good man with a first aid kit. He put Willie out of his mind and concentrated on Judy. With hot water from the kitchen and sheets from the bedroom Jerry went to work. In an hour he had her scrubbed clean and treated with iodine. He even managed to give her a douche to clean the peanut butter from her cunt.
"Now, Judy," he said when she was settled in a chair with a cup of coffee and a clean robe on. "Do you think you could tell me just what happened here tonight? I don't think Willie will be of much help."
"I don't believe it, Jerry. It all seems like a nightmare. I met Willie in the bar and we had a couple of drinks together. He was a little snapped up, but I've seen him a lot drunker.
"Anyhow, he agreed to come over. I'll admit, Jerry, I wanted to go to bed with him when I asked him over. But when he got here it was so unlike Willie. I just couldn't believe it was him.
"He didn't even say a word. Just grabbed me and started going to town. At first it was nice, but then....
"Oh God, Jerry. He went out of his mind. He started doing things you wouldn't believe." She stopped and stared straight ahead with a dazed look in her eyes.
Jerry wondered about the specifics of the fight. He could see that they had been rolling around in the bath tub. But what was the jar of peanut butter doing in there? How did Judy get it up her cunt? And what had actually happened to his cock?
"I guess I'd better see what I can do for Willie. His penis was bleeding when I looked in there last. He's pretty far out though. Have you got any sleeping pills we could give him to calm him down?"
"I think so. Let me check in the ... oh no! I'm not going in there. The pills are in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. You can look yourself. I'm not going in there until he's back to normal."
They got Willie cleaned up and medicated. His cock wasn't too badly damaged, and with two sleeping pills in him he seemed to come down to earth. It was fine in the morning when Jerry drove Willie home in his Plymouth. Judy followed in the squad car. On the way back to Judy's, Jerry asked a few more questions.
"All I know is that he picked me up at Harry's. I guess he had been up to see the people in Corny's apartment. Like I said, we had-"
"He was at the hippie's apartment?"
"Oh come on, Jerry. They're not hippies. But that's where he was. At least that's what Wally said."
Jerry watched Judy walk to the door. He shook his head in dismay. At least her tits didn't get hurt, he mused. It's those hippies, he frowned. I know they had something to do with it. Wouldn't surprise me at all if they gave him some of that LSD.
The sun was coming up. Jerry should have turned in hours ago. As he drove home he vowed to stop and give the hippies a good lecture and sort of investigate their apartment for signs of funny business.
CHAPTER FOUR
Jerry O'Connor
Willie Wienenkughel called DeZurkee's that morning. It was the first time in eight years he had missed a day's work due to illness. Judy Puhl called in sick too, but it was a common thing for her to be too hung over to make it to work. Jerry O'Connor was late getting out on the beat for the first time in his career.
John and Mimi Partrige left for college on time. Although Willie had instructed his wife to keep her mouth shut the word had gotten out. There were several versions of the story, but the gist of it was the same: Willie Wienekughel went over to the hippies last night after dinner and didn't get home until morning. The reports of his physical condition varied. Some said his penis had been cut off. Others claimed that to be an exaggeration, but he had been castrated. One source swore that he had lost both eyes.
O'Connor had talked to the mayor about the stories. Corny claimed that the kids upstairs seemed to be all right. But O'Connor argued that this was only the second night they had spent in town and already they were notorious. If Corny wouldn't throw them out at least he should agree to letting Jerry go up and have a talk with them.
"I don't give a shit, Jerry," Corny complained, "But if you go up there just don't tell them the mayor sent you. It'll be an unofficial visit."
"That's just what I had in mind, Corny. And while I'm up there I can look the place over. If it looks real psychedelic I'll have a warrant swore out and search the place for narcotics and stuff."
"I don't think those kids are dope addicts, Jerry."
John and Mimi didn't get back from White Cloud until late in the evening. O'Connor had been driving past the store for three hours when he saw them arrive at nine o'clock. They were just getting out of their car when he pulled into the lot.
"Well hello, Chief O'Connor," shouted John. "Fancy meeting you here. You're getting to be a regular fixture around here. Seen any good nudes lately?"
"Evening ma'am, sir. I'd like to have a talk with you two, if you don't mind. Do you think we could go upstairs for a minute?"
"Why Officer O'Connor," Mimi cooed, "We'd be delighted."
"Beer?" offered John, when they got settled in the living room. "Or is this official business?"
"No, no. This is strictly informal. I went off duty two hours ago. I just haven't changed out of my uniform. I'd be glad to take a beer."
Mimi brought a couple of beer bottles in and gave them to the men. As Jerry took a swig out of his Mimi winked at John.
"Just what did you have on? Your mind?" joked John.
"Well it's about all the talk that's going around town. About the way you two conduct your personal lives."
"I suppose you're the one who spread most of the talk. You remember our little meeting in the parking lot?" asked John.
"Yes, but there's been a new development in the rumors. It seems that Willie Wienenkughel left his home last evening about six o'clock. He told his wife he was going to drop in on you folks. I talked to Wally, over at Harry's, and he says that Willie left the bar at six-thirty bound for your apartment.
"Now I know for a fact that Willie stayed with Judy Puhl, you might have heard about her, until five in the morning. I went to the Puhl house at one-thirty a.m. last night and found Judy and Willie in a terrible state.
"The talk around town is that Mr. Wienenkughel spent the night here. We know this isn't true. But what I'd like to know is: Just what went on when Mr. Wienenkughel was in your apartment? What was his condition when he left your place?"
"If you stop by again in a few days I can show you a movie of what Willie did while he was here," laughed John. "As for his condition when he left, I'd say that he felt about the same way you're going to be feeling in about five minutes."
John and Mimi sat smiling at the bewildered policeman. The living room looked normal enough to O'Connor, who had expected something psychedelic. But as the dose of LSD they had slipped him took effect everything became psychedelic.
He glanced at Mimi and did a double take. She was fully clothed, but at intervals her body seemed to be completely naked. Jerry started laughing uncontrollably.
"I think he's stoned," Mimi said. "Get the camera out. I'll put some music on. What would you like to hear, Officer?"
"Call me Jerry. And I'll call you Mimi. I think we should be a little more friendly, don't you? I always say, 'The public and the police should be a little more friendly'."
"Fine, Jerry. But what would you like to hear?" she repeated.
"Some music would be fine. Hahahahahah!" Any old thing. I can hear Dick Hienzen's dogs barking across the street and it sounds like music to me. Actually, I like Country and Western music. Have you got any of Johnny Cash's records?"
"The closest I can come to that would be Country Joe and the Fish. It isn't really what you have in mind, but I think you might appreciate it just now."
The record player blared out the psychedelic sounds of the acid rock. O'Connor was transfixed by the sounds. He stood up and started to dance around the room. Eventually he was sweating from the exertion and started to unbutton his blue uniform. His bright brass buttons caught his attention and he stood fumbling with them for several minutes.
"Why don't you take off your clothes and show us your gun, Jerry?" Mimi smiled, posing a trick question.
"That's a good idea. I was getting kind of warm. These sure are beautiful buttons though. Have you ever really looked at a brass button? Fantastic!"
It took a half hour for O'Connor to get all his clothes off. He kept getting hung up on the many baubles and bangles that hung from his uniform: key chains, keys, whistles, bullets etc. Eventually he stood in the middle of the floor with his prick pointing up to his sagging beer belly.
"I'm the fastest gun in the West! Watch this! I'll nail that statue over there right between the eyes."
Taking his hammer in his hand, O'Connor started to shake it down. Mimi helped him out by squeezing a tube of clear jelly on his wick. The big cop's wang swelled to the size of an ear of corn as his slippery fist slid over it. His mouth was wide open and his eyes closed tight after a few strokes.
The electric buzz of his orgasm hit Jerry's nuts first and spread up through his guts and spine. Hunchbacked and buckling at the knees, he gave way to a wave of pleasure that swept through his brain like an explosion of melted butter. Jerry squinted out of one eye and aimed the tip of his bulging red bulb at the statue. Giving out a few groans and jerking once or twice, Jerry fired a blob of gizzom big enough to fill a fruit jar.
Right between the eyes was just where it hit. Right between Mimi's eyes. She stood directly in front of the pounding prick until the wad splattered into her face. Then she let it run down her nose and into her mouth. Putting her arms around Jerry, Mimi kissed him on the lips. Her tongue slipped into his mouth and she passed a mouthful of still warm jazz to him. Then she kissed both his eyes leaving a drop of gizzom on each lid.
"Let me get a close-up of that," urged John, "I think this is going to be a good movie, Mimi. See what you can get him to do with a dildo. I'll put in a new roll of film."
Mimi produced a rubber pecker a little bit bigger than a horse's cock. She handed it to the bleary-eyed acid head when John got the camera loaded. Jerry sat like a monkey with a banana, smiling stupidly. His first reaction was to put the thing in his mouth. Then he made a terrible face and spit several times. Mimi broke out laughing.
"That was up Shirley Brewster's ass a few days ago," she giggled, "And I think Shirley had a case of the sour diarrhea."
"Give him something to sip on, honey, or he'll be tasting sour shit all night."
A glass of orange juice provided Jerry with refreshment and diversion. After drinking about half of it he dipped the dick in it. The sight this fake penis with a drop of orange liquid on the tip sent the tripping cop off on another laughing spree. John and Mimi watched him roar with glee for about ten minutes before he settled down. O'Connor wrinkled his brow and studied the dildo as if it were the first time he'd seen a pecker. Then he smiled triumphantly and shoved it up his ass.
"Wait until we play this back for him," laughed John. "This is better than Laurel and Hardy. Do you want to do anything with him?"
"No. He's too fat and ugly. Let him fuck him self in the ass for awhile and then we'll dress him and send him out to play."
It took quite a few minutes to get him dressed. Jerry kept playing with everything he got his hands on. John and Mimi had a few tense moments when he stuck his gun up his ass, but it didn't go off. They laughed when the cop rammed a long steel whistle up his bung hole and then withdrew it and tooted away on the brown end.
"What a clown. I wish I still had the camera on him. Watch out now, he's going to shove one of those bullets up his shitter. This cop's got a bottom fixation. I've always said cops were anal types."
They finally got him dressed and led him to the door. Mimi thought they should give him a few downers to take the edge off his LSD, but John figured it would be better to just let him go tripping merrily on his way. So they turned Jerry O'Connor, Chief of Police, loose in Bardell. A six gun at his hip and 400 micrograms of LSD in his head.
It was almost midnight. Jerry wanted to go into Harry's, but he never drank in uniform. It didn't look good for the cop to be sitting at the bar. Well, he thought, if I can't go in with my uniform on I can go in with it off. He wheeled the car into the lot and dropped his pants. Slipping out of his shirt, he strolled into the bar wearing a soiled undershirt and a pair of flowered boxer shorts.
As usual, Harry's was packed. The bar was crowded and the adjoining room was filled with couples dancing to the juke box. Nobody noticed the cop in his underwear until he stepped up to the bar. Lenny Johnson squinted through his drunken haze, twisting his scarred face into a mass of furrows.
"Hey! Looka the cat dragged in. Hoooo boy! Ain't them pretty flowers. What'sa matter Jerry? Wife won't press your pants? Hoooo boy! Looka that!" Lenny howled at the top of his lungs.
O'Connor smiled to the crowd and swiveled his hips in a little hula dance motion. A loud roar of laughter went up and Jerry bowed low. When he was bent over as far as he would go a loud fart burst out of his butt and dislodged one of the bullets he'd crammed into his anus. It dropped out of his shorts and onto the floor.
A bunch of girls from the steno pool at DeZurkee's were having a party at Harry's that night. Jerry spied Rosie Benito standing at the bar. The sight of the dark-haired little Italian with her ass and tits jutting out of her tight clothes started O'Connor's bone to stirring.
In front of forty onlookers Jerry's dick rose out of his shorts and waved its big knob at the crowd. Like a pointer with a bird spotted, Jerry's pecker zeroed in on Rosie's little joy box. The illusion he'd had looking at Mimi returned to the cop. Rosie stood before him bare-assed-naked. The crowd stopped laughing and muttered nervously. Rosie, true to form, just smiled, waved her big jugs, and gave a little gyration with her hips.
Oblivious of the crowd of people, Jerry lowered his head and charged like a bull for Rosie. His giant red dong was like a standard he waved in front of him. Grabbing Rosie in his arms, he tried to force his dick into her twat. To his dismay the black pussy disappeared and he found his cock poking a rough woolen skirt. Rosie was the biggest flirt in the whole steno pool, but in Harry's Bar with forty people looking on, the sight of a man's love spear poking into her skirt was too much.
Quick as a flash, Rosie reach over the bar and grabbed a quart of booze. With all the power in her young Italian body, she swung the bottle. It connected squarely on top of her assailant's head and shattered. The cop crashed to the floor. He lay flat on his back, his rod pointing straight up in the air.
The crowd gathered around as O'Connor's prick withered and fell. A bunch of the members of the fire department picked Jerry up off the floor and carried him to the squad car. Wally mopped up the broken bottle of brandy, and the girls comforted a hysterical Rosie.
Dick Hienzen was getting home late from bowling. He saw a group of men lifting a body into the cop's car. He wondered what kind of madness the damn fool cop was mixed up in tonight. He'd blame it on the new kids in town no doubt.
CHAPTER FIVE
Cornelius Bardell IV
"The cop came up to see us last night. We didn't drink that much, but when he left he was really plastered," John was talking to old Corny. "He must have been nipping at a bottle before he showed up. Let me have a pound of hamburger, please."
"So Jerry was up at your place last night, eh. Hee, hee, hee. I hear he was over at Harry's too. Hee, hee, hee. Will there be anything else?"
"That's it for now, I guess. See you later."
Corny chuckled and shook his big belly. The cop sure did a good job of investigating what went on up there. Imagine. Prancing around Harry's in a pair of shorts. Corny picked up the phone and dialed a number.
"Hello, Joyce? Is your flat-foot husband up yet? This is the mayor. I want to talk to him."
"He's still sleeping, Corny. He had a pretty rough night-"
"Yeah, I heard all about it first thing this morning. Listen, Joyce. You get him up and send him right over here right away."
Funny or not, Corny thought, something strange must be going on up there. This called for some kind of action. Maybe an emergency meeting of the village council. If worse came to worst he could always contact the Minute Men. First he'd have a long talk with the cop and then the two of them could decide.
"All right, Jerry," Corny frowned over a cup of coffee. "You know I never object to your drinking when you're off duty. And last night it was an unofficial visit. But, Jesus, Jerry, you went up there to find out what happened to Willie. Then you end up making a public spectacle of yourself.
"It looks bad, Jerry. If the girl you scared last night wants to be nasty you could end up in jail. And if the townspeople want to get nasty you could be forced to resign.
"What went on up there? Are they dope addicts or commies or something? Do you think we should run them out on a rail? Speak up, man!"
"Well, Corny. I'll tell you," O'Connor hesitated, he remembered something about a camera that disturbed him. "I don't know what got into me last night. But the kids didn't get back from White Cloud until nine o'clock last night. I was so nervous about going up there I just kept drinking and drinking. By the time they got there I was canned. Then I sat up in the apartment drinking with them until after midnight."
"Funny. That's just what the kid said this morning. Said he thought you'd been hitting the bottle before you showed up. What did the place look like? Do they have it all decked out in psychedelic style pictures and stuff?"
"It looked normal enough to me, Corny. Of course I wasn't seeing things too clear." He remembered the sight of Rosie and shuddered a little.
"Well I'll find out for sure tonight. My son is going up there to get the air conditioner out of the spare bedroom. He left it up there when he and his wife moved out. He'll get a look at the place."
"Look, Corny. I think I better warn you. Tell young Corny not accept anything to drink from Partrige. Just take my word for it. Two local citizens have gotten in trouble after having a few drinks up there. I'd hate to see your son become the third."
"Don't worry about my boy. He's not the kind of boozer you and Willie are. He can take care of himself."
They drove back to the store from Pete's Cafe across the river. Jerry dropped Corny off and started his daily rounds. He was worried. He couldn't remember everything from the night before, but he knew that they had taken movies of him doing some things he wouldn't want anybody to see. At least Jerry was not alone. They had movies of Willie too. Jerry decided to get together with Willie that evening and figure out some kind of solution to the mess they were in. Something had to be done before they got movies of the whole town.
While Jerry O'Connor was driving the streets of Bardell young Corny Bardell was driving in from ninety miles away. He hated to come back to Bardell from his home in the capital city of Minnesota. In St. Paul he was known as Cor nelius, or Corny; while in Bardell he was Junior or Little Corny. Junior had lived above his father's store for the first five years of his marriage, and in those five years he had learned to hate Bardell.
Cornelius Bardell IV liked his job in St. Paul. He made a good salary and lived in a comfortable home. It galled him to think ahead to the day, not too far from now, when he'd have to move back to Bardell and become the fourth Cornelius Bardell to run the store. Then his son would be called Little Corny or Junior. His wife would be in the Ladies' Aid. And he would be elected mayor. It was a vicious circle.
Late in the afternoon the young Bardells arrived in the village. Junior went over to the store to talk with his father, leaving his wife and two children with Grandma. When the men came home after closing up the store, young Corny was grinning from ear to ear.
"Did Mom tell you, Ginny?" he asked his pretty wife.
"About the 'hippies' you mean?" she nodded. "Don't you think it's funny? About that smug cop. I mean."
"I think you ought to come with me when I go over for the cooler tonight. Don't you want to meet the two people who've caused such a stir in the town of Bardell?"
"I'm dying to meet them. Grandma is just on pins and needles. She didn't want to rent to them in the first place. She doesn't trust men with mustaches. I think it's funny!" Ginny wrinkled up her cute nose. She didn't get along too well with her mother-in-law.
After a big dinner that Elizabeth fussed and stewed over, Junior and Ginny drove over to the store. They saw the Partrige's green Volkswagen in the lot, assuring them that there was someone at home. Before they knocked on the door Ginny read a small sign that was pasted on the window:
"Warning: These premises patrolled by giant frogs!" she read. "Maybe they are weirdos, Corny."
"Knock on the door and we'll find out."
"Hello," beamed Mimi, after a brief delay. "I was in the living room and I didn't hear you knock right away. Would you like to come in? I'll call my husband. He's in the bedroom playing his guitar."
"We don't want to impose, Mrs. Partrige. I'm Corny Bardell and this is my wife Ginny. We just want to pick up the air conditioner I left in the spare bedroom."
"Oh come on. I know Cornelius Bardell and he's a big fat man. And his wife's name is Elizabeth. Who are you trying to kid? Come on in and shut the door. I'll call John. OH JOHN! Company!"
"Hi!" smiled John, coming from the bedroom with a twelve-string guitar in his hand. "What can we do for you?"
The Bardells explained who they were and what they were after. John volunteered to help carry the heavy unit down to Corny's car. While the men were busy with the air conditioner Mimi and Ginny sat in the kitchen and talked. Mimi put a pot of coffee on and sliced some nut bread.
"Those two will probably want beer when they get done, but I'll make enough coffee for all four of us. John's just crazy about beer. He'd drink it for breakfast if I'd let him. Here they are!"
Sitting in their living room with the Bardells, the Partriges watched two new victims react to an LSD mickey. Corny and Ginny got wide-eyed and giddy. They talked rapidly and foolishly. Ginny started to see things that weren't there.
"John," suggested Mimi, "Why don't you show these two the movies you processed today at school. John uses the film lab at the college to make art films. It's sort of a hobby. We've got some of Willie Wienenkughel and Jerry O'Connor. You two probably know Willie and Jerry. I think you'll get a kick out of these movies."
John showed the film of Jerry O'Connor first. The Bardells went into fits of laughter as the overweight cop cavorted around the room playing with his pecker. When he started inserting things into his asshole the Partriges joined in the laughter and the room rocked with the sound.
Next came the film of Willie making love to Mimi. Ginny and Corny got excited watching the erotic scene unfold. By the end of the reel they were petting and panting on the rug. Corny unbuttoned his wife's blouse and undid her bra. He fondled her huge tits lovingly, rubbing her brown nipples gently with his thumb. Placing his lips over her rock-hard nipples, Corny sucked and licked eagerly.
Ginny's nimble fingers worked quickly on his pants. In no time she had his love spear in her hand and was stroking it tenderly. Her hand searched his groin and found his hairy sack. She gripped his balls and squeezed playfully.
Corny left his wife's boobs and crawled to her waist. In two jerks he pulled her skirt, slip and panties down to her knees. Forcing his finger between her smooth thighs, Corny probed his wife's hairy mound until he found her dripping hole. She tried to spread her legs, but her knees were held together by the elastic of her clothes.
Kicking her legs and wiggling her hips, Ginny tried to free herself. Mimi had stripped to the skin, and she joined the two on the floor. Between the three of them they got the Bardell's clothes off. Before Corny knew what was happening Mimi tossed her beautiful legs around his face and forced her cunt into his mouth. Ginny sucked his magic wand into her mouth.
While John got the whole affair on film, the three bodies coupled up into a triangle of love. Mimi wiggled her head between Ginny's thighs and lapped happily at her twat. Ginny swallowed Corny's bulging bone and ran her fingers lightly over his balls. Corny sent his tongue in and out of Mimi's flowing vagina, teasing her clit on each stroke.
The suck-in went on for fifteen minutes. Then the three started to come, one by one. Corny was first. His meat got bigger and redder as his wife bobbed her head and swirled her tongue. She felt his knob pounding and his pee-hole opening. As Corny sobbed and jerked, Ginny wrapped her lips around his knob and drank the jazz from his flowing fountain.
As soon as she'd swallowed Corny's come, Ginny felt her own fluids start to squirt. Up high in her guts she felt her ovaries pumping. A wave of joy spread through her body. The come traveled down her tubes and into her vagina.
Mimi tasted the hot honey as it rushed out of Ginny's cunt. Ginny gave a sigh and rolled over, exhausted.
Corny was still eating away at Mimi's orifice, but he had slowed down since his orgasm. Mimi sat up, wiping the white gizzom and black hairs from her mouth. She sat directly on top of Corny, grinding down with her talented hip. She pivoted her pelvis deftly, sending her fragrant rectum into his mouth. Her crotch was soon lubricated with a mixture of pussy and anal juices and Corny's lips slid easily from hole to hole.
When her moment of truth came, Mimi stood up and spread her legs. Tickling her own clit with her finger, Mimi triggered an explosion of female fluid that fell to Corny's waiting mouth like rain. A spasm of pleasure shook Mimi off her balance and the stream of come splashed across Corny's face, showering his eyes and nose.
Ginny crawled to her husband and licked the come from his face. John put down his camera and took off his clothes. He snuck up behind Ginny and thrust his stiff rod up her bung hole. He crouched over her shapely ass and pumped poop vigorously, banging his hammer into her turd tube until it bumped against her colon.
The force of John's prick drove Ginny ahead, and with each entry she moved forward a little farther. John rode her around the room until Mimi lay down and Ginny crawled over her. When she got to Mimi's cunt, Ginny braced herself and came to a stop. Lowering herself down to Mimi's waiting twat, Ginny buried her lips in the mound of fur that nestled between the fine white thighs.
To the rhythm of John's pounding pecker the girls started licking each other's cunts again. Corny felt left out and the only opening was John's ass hole. With his cock in his fist, Corny charged the bobbing buttocks. He hit the moving target right in the brown eye and his wand sunk into John's shit shoot.
Looking directly ahead, Mimi could see John's long spear sliding in and out of Ginny's ass. Each time that big bone popped out of her hairy hole it was a little bit browner. John's balls were resting on Mimi's forehead, and when he started to come, she felt them pounding. She watched in amazement as the sperm made its way up the big tube in John's cock. With each jerk of his body the lump of gizzom moved up closer to his peehole.
Mimi missed the rest of John's orgasm, because Ginny started to reach the height of her passion. Mimi was engulfed in Ginny's cunt, and her mouth reached in so far that she could take Ginny's clit right in her lips. The tip of Mimi's nose just brushed against the bottom of John's cock and breathing was difficult.
The flood of fluid from Ginny's cunt and John's pecker almost did poor Mimi in. Sperm overflowed from Ginny's crapper and dripped into Mimi's nose. She gasped for air and got a mouthful of gizzom that sprayed out of Ginny's joy box. Struggling to get her head free, Mimi felt her clit telegraphing messages to her ovaries. Just as her orgasm started to stir, Corny blew his wad into John's rectum.
When the hot spray of semen splashed against his anal walls, John jumped in surprise. Just one second of let up was all Mimi needed. Desperately she twisted her head from side to side until she could breath. John pulled Ginny away from Mimi and Corny finished giving Mimi her tongue fuck. John and Ginny got in a six and nine and sucked the sperm from each other's shifters.
"What time is it?" asked Corny. They were all sitting on the rug sipping fruit juice. Mimi was still recovering from her near suffocation.
"It's close to eleven," John informed him.
"Maybe we'd better leave. Are we keeping you up?"
"No," laughed John, "No, not at all. You may be 'up' for a long time yourself, though. I think you'd better stay here for a few more hours. You could spend the night if you want."
"Good idea. I accept your hospitality. But I better call my folks and tell them we won't be back. They weren't too excited about us coming over here in the first place. The whole town seems to think you two are running some kind of Black Mass up here."
"They weren't mistaken," Mimi laughed. "We are Prophets and Disciples of Fornication. You may worship with us if you wish."
Switching off the lights and turning on the projector, John draped several strings of beads around the necks of Ginny and Corny. On the screen was a blank sheet of color. As the movie progressed the colors changed from red to green and on through the spectrum. Mimi and John fingered their beads and chanted.
"Fuckowieee. Peeeeenis. Coooonilingus," they kept it up, getting louder and more melodical. Under the influence of LSD, Ginny and Corny watched the flashing colors intently. As the film came to an end, John and Mimi were moaning and bowing down to the screen in an attitude of worship. A bright burst of flashing gold exploded on the screen. All four nude figures were bent forward over their knees groaning with pleasure as they experienced orgasm.
"How beautiful," sighed Corny, after a long pause. "I saw the whole film with my eyes closed. It was a like nothing I'd ever seen before. I think it looked like God. How did you film that, John?"
"I didn't," he answered, giving Corny a sly grin. "It's all in your head. Here, look at the film. It's just blank celluloid."
"Like I said," cooed Mimi, "It was a worship service. You just saw your own mind on the screen. God is in your mind, Corny. You are God."
"I saw it too," pleaded Ginny. "I didn't close my eyes, but I saw it. Am I God too?"
"Of course," John said. "And Mimi and myself. Everyone has the ability to see God in themselves."
"But why don't they all? And why did you and Mimi? And why did I react sexually to all this?" Corny was confused.
"Too many questions, my friend. Just remember what Mimi said. She and I are Prophets and Disciples. Here. Take these and go to bed. You'll dream like you have never dreamed before." He gave the couple some sleeping pills and escorted them to the spare bedroom.
Elizabeth Bardell sat up all night waiting for her son and daughter-in-law. When the sun rose she was still crouched in her rocking chair, wringing her hands and mumbling through a twisted frown. Dick Hienzen, up early on Saturday morning, saw that Little Corny's car was still in the parking lot where it had been the night before.
CHAPTER SIX
Ginny Bardell
Saturday morning in Bardell and the store wasn't open. Car after car stopped in the lot and the confused customers tugged on the locked door, shook their heads in disbelief before driving in to White Cloud to do their shopping. Some of the more loyal shoppers tried calling the mayor's house, but Corny and Elizabeth weren't answering their phone.
Ginny and Junior had breakfasted with John and Mimi. The orange juice was spiked with LSD, a powerful dose, since John and Mimi hadn't taken a trip themselves since they moved into town. Ginny became almost violent for a few minutes when the first rush of acid hit her. She launched into a stream of invective against her mother-in-law that would have made a lumberjack blush.
Corny calmed his wife down and told her she could stay with John and Mimi while he drove over and picked up the kids. Mimi got out some bright colored cloth and beads and started to design Ginny a robe to wear. While Mimi decorated Ginny's lovely body, John sat and played his guitar. Corny promised to return quickly and left for his parents home.
When young Corny came through the back door his mother shrieked and came charging from her chair. The sight of the old hag, grey hair standing out in all directions, frightened poor stoned Corny. His mother's voice sounded like a crackling hen to his ears, and her pointing finger looked like a sharp claw.
"Were you at those hippies' house all night?" she howled. "I sat up all night waiting for you. Just what are you trying to do to your poor old mother?"
"Get away from me, you beast!" he screamed. "Get out of my sight."
"Don't you dare talk to your mother like that. I'll call your father. He'll fix your wagon, Mr. Smarty. Corny! Corny! Your son is here. And I think he's roaring drunk!"
The old man heard his wife yelling and rolled over in bed. He didn't have to open the store until eight o'clock on Saturday. Just when he'd almost dropped off to sleep his wife came screaming into the room. Behind her was her son, waving his penis and spraying piss all over her.
"Nightmare. Nightmare. Those hippies have me worried sick," old Corny muttered. A stream of urine hit him in the face and he knew he wasn't dreaming. He jumped from the bed and grabbed his son by the shoulders. Young Corny bounced off his father's huge gut and hit the wall.
"I've had it with you two," he shouted. "I've had it with this fucking town and those idiot rural people. I'm taking my children and we're never coming back to this hell hole."
"But Junior! What about the store?"
"Fuck the store!"
"But you have to run for mayor!"
"Fuck it!"
Junior shook his cock in the air triumphantly. He poked it into his dad's ass and shouted, "Fuck the mayor!" Grabbing his mother, he jammed his meat into her nightgown yelling, "Fuck you, Mom!" Racing around the house like a madman, Junior poked his prick into everything he saw.
"Fuck the chair. Fuck the door. Fuck the lamp. Fuck the toilet. Fuck the sink. Fuck the stove. Fuck the fan. Eeeeooowwwwww!!!!!!"
Elizabeth had to call a neighbor to stay with the kids while she and Corny rushed Junior to the hospital. O'Connor led the way with his siren going and lights flashing. Junior's penis was badly cut. He lost a lot of blood on the way, despite his mother's efforts to help. Four surgeons went to work to try and save his life and his dick. Meanwhile his wife was enjoying her trip with the Partriges.
"I hope he never comes back," Ginny complained as they rode into White Cloud to meet some of the Partrige's friends for a picnic. "He was a mama's boy from the word go. If you knew what I put up with from that old bitch. I'm done with those fucking Bardells."
Ginny looked attractive in her new outfit. Her ample tits showed between the plunging neckline that dropped all the way to her navel. A bright butterfly was painted on her thigh about six inches from her cunt. Fluorescent orange paint decorated her toe nails and Mimi had given her several lovely gold chains for her ankles. On a string of beads that hung around her graceful neck was a brass prick.
John stopped the car in front of a large yellow house that looked like a castle from the Middle Ages. A tall slim fellow with long sideburns came loping to the car door. He greeted John and Mimi and jumped into the back seat with Ginny.
"Greetings groovy chick. I'm Ron Ness, otherwise known as the Coon. Who be yee?"
"I am the high priestess of the Penis," droned Ginny, waving her brass cock in a circle around Ron's face. "Fuck you, my child."
"Dig it," smiled Ron. He bowed and kissed the trinket.
"Where'd you two pick up the groovy goddess of the penis?" Coon asked John and Mimi.
"We pick up followers where ever we spread the good news. Ginny has joined the enlightened."
"Would you like to kiss me?" Ginny purred in Coon's ear.
"Certainly, my green-eyed goddess."
While John and Mimi sang a song entitled 'I Feel Like Home-Made Shit' Coon and Ginny sucked each other's tongues and fingered each other's organs. After a fifteen-minute drive they arrived at an abandoned farm where several other college students were waiting. Of the ten or twelve people only two actually looked like real hippies. The rest, like Mimi and John, simply dressed casually. The girls all had fairly long hair, and the boys generally sported a mustache or sideburns, but for the most part it was a pretty straight looking crowd.
John and Mimi mingled with the crowd, distributing LSD to those who hadn't already taken some. Coon led Ginny into the empty barn. They climbed a ladder to the hay loft where Coon spread a blanket over a soft pile of straw. He stepped out of his blue jeans and pulled his sweat shirt over his head.
"You're beautiful," gasped Ginny. "I've never seen such a body."
He put his arms around her and untied the robe Mimi had fashioned. Ginny trembled with excitement as his eyes passed over her sensuous body. His gaze drank in her bouncing boobs. As he panned down to her sloping hips his cock rose proudly to a stiff bone. Ginny flexed her supple thighs, forcing a drop of pussy juice from her orifice and Coon's wang pounded excitedly, slapping against his belly.
Reaching both arms out slowly. Coon placed a finger on each of Ginny's nipples. He rubbed the little knobs gently until they were as hard and stiff as cherry pits. She shuddered slightly and started panting for breath. Coon pinched each nipple gently.
Dropping to his knees, he slowly brought his hand down to her hips. The tender caress brought goose bumps to her smooth skin. His fingers dug into her buns and he kissed her belly button, running his tongue quickly in and out. Ginny's cunt flowed freely with joy juice. She wanted to scream desperately for him to start fucking, but her tongue was tied.
Pushing her backwards, Coon dropped Ginny to the blanket. She looked down and saw his handsome eyes peering over her curly thatch of cunt hair. Her eyes closed as she felt his long tongue snake into her hot box and stroke her rigid clit.
She felt his mouth start to climb up her body. He passed her belly and reached her tits. As he sucked her nipples tenderly Ginny could feel his giant dong throbbing against her thighs. She tugged impatiently at his shoulders, pulling his meat closer to her eager twat. He paused again to kiss her neck long enough to bring a nice red hickey, this time she could feel his hot cock right between her thighs just two inches from her hole.
"Oh God, Coon! Hurry! Do it. Shove it in now. I can't wait another second. We've been up here for hours. When are you going to fuck me?"
Straining her cunt muscles, Ginny wrapped her wet cunt lips around the very tip of his knob. She wiggled her hips madly, trying to force it in just a little bit farther. Then he released all of his self-control and slammed his groin forward sending his stiff joy prong deep into her fleshy pink vagina.
"Ahhhhhh, it's good!" moaned Ginny.
They set their hips to pumping a steady rhythm. Coon's cock slid easily in and out of her juicy hot-box. Her fluids flowed profusely and soaked his seething crotch until his balls dripped a steady stream of joy juice. With each stroke of his magic wand he brought her closer to a climax so intense she felt its sheer sexual bliss right down to the tip of her toes.
It started as a tiny twitch in her clitoris. The grazing motion of his cock had teased her clit beyond the limits of the imagination. Her little love lever started to quiver, sending its message of love up through her bowls to her ovaries.
As her ovaries started to pump out the gizzom a warm wave of pleasure crept up her spine and splashed across the back of her brain. She screamed for joy and bit him roughly on the shoulder. Her gizzom started its journey through her winding tubes to her cunt and a second rush of bliss buzzed up and down her beautiful body.
Just before her come burst into her vagina Ginny felt Coon's cock swell to the size of a loaf of French bread and spit a scalding gob of come against her sensitive flesh. She closed her eyes and let her gizzom flow. A great white blur flashed across her mind and she felt her spirit leave her body and mingle with Coon's spirit.
It seemed like hours later when she opened her eyes and looked at his smiling face. His limp dick flopped out of her hole and a rush of cool gizzom splashed out of her cunt and soaked her lovely buttocks. She relaxed her tight grip on his shoulders and realized that she had scratched his naked back raw.
"Oh, Coon. That was-"
"Shhh!" he put a finger gently to her lips. "Stand up."
Ginny stood in the middle of the barn, still awe struck by the intensity of her experience. Coon produced a cardboard box from one corner and proceeded to brush bright colors of an odorless paint onto her skin. He worked quickly, but with great skill. Multicolored spirals swirled from each of her big boobs. Yellow and orange flames spread up her belly and down her thighs, making her cunt the center of a brilliant sun.
The paint dried swiftly to a smooth finish. Coon placed the beads and brass penis carefully around her neck. Then he took her by the hand and led her down the ladder and into the sunlight. The rest of the gathering was engaged in various sexual activities. When Ginny walked out among them they stopped what they were doing.
"Behold the Goddess of the Prick!" announced Coon. "Prostrate yourselves and pay honor to her Sexiness."
Strutting with regal poise, Ginny walked from person to person waving the brass dong ceremoniously. Coon then led her slowly up a narrow path. The group followed, chanting and ringing bells. They came to a small clearing where a white altar stood. Carefully, Coon lifted Ginny to the altar and placed her legs in stirrups. The chanting and ringing got louder and more fanatic.
"I offer my penis to the Goddess," sang Coon.
He mounted the altar and thrust his wang between her legs. This time he did not hesitate or tease her. In a few violent jabs his wad was shot and he got off. One by one the others did the same. After six pricks had deposited pud in her box the women came forward.
"I have no penis, oh Goddess," wailed Mimi. "I give you this banana." Ginny groaned as a banana went up her twat.
"I have no penis, oh Goddess," Shirley Brewster sung. "Take this cucumber."
The next offering was a large salami. It wouldn't fit into Ginny's cunt, so after a futile attempt the huge chunk of meat was jammed up her ass. Before the next offering was made, the Goddess passed out. Unconcerned, the worshippers continued the ceremony. When they got through with her, they carried Ginny to the barn and dropped her on a pile of hay.
At dark the picnic broke up. There had been a feast of sliced fruit, bread, honey and fruit juice. It had been a good trip for all, no freak-outs or bummers. John and Mimi were the last to leave the scene, and since Coon could not be found they assumed that he'd found a ride with someone else.
It was a long ride back to Bardell, and John decided to stop in White Cloud for a drink. There were a lot of the Partrige's straight friends in the bar, so they decided to stay and spend an evening socializing with the unenlightened. It was after one o'clock when they finally left the bar. John was quite drunk.
Elizabeth Bardell was waiting for the Partriges in their apartment when they got back. She had been waiting since dark. Her son had lived through the operation and had kept his pecker. It was hard to tell at this early stage, but the doctors thought he would regain his sanity eventually. But he was calling for his wife. Elizabeth had called the apartment all day long. When the sun went down she had called the highway patrol and the sheriff.
"Where have you been all day?" she demanded of John and Mimi as they walked in.
"Listen, Grandma Grunt," John snapped. "This is our home. As long as I'm renting this domicile you need a search warrant to come in here."
"Where's my daughter-in-law? What have you done with her!?"
"Ginny left this morning, Mrs. Bardell," Mimi said. She tried to calm her husband down.
"What?" Mrs. Bardell was panic stricken.
"She and your son stayed here last night and they left this morning. It must have been quite early, I don't think the store was even open."
"But she didn't come home with Corny Jr.," Mrs. Bardell sobbed. "And she hasn't turned up all day. Corny's in the hospital crying for her right now."
"Tough titty, old hag. We don't know where the Goddess is and you are trespassing in our home. Now get lost."
"John! I'm sorry, Mrs. Bardell. He's been drinking too much. Don't pay any attention to him. I'm sure Ginny will turn up. If I can think of anything that might help you find her, I'll let you know."
Mimi led the weeping woman to the door and walked her down to her car. She rushed back upstairs as soon as she could. John had just opened a beer. He smiled foolishly and threw her a sloppy kiss. Mimi shook her head in disgust. Just when she needed him with a clear head he was bleary-eyed drunk.
Was Ginny still out in the country in that barn? Was she even still alive? The afternoon's little trip might turn into a nightmare before the night was through. Mimi tried to think. Where could she get in touch with Coon?
Dick Hienzen saw Elizabeth and the long-haired girl walk to Corny's red Pontiac. Elizabeth looked like she was sick or crying. Dick scratched his broad belly and poured another shot of brandy. I don't believe half the crap I hear about those kids, thought Dick Hienzen, but there is something funny going on over there.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Mimi Partrige
After three or four beers John got sleepy and dozed off. Mimi hadn't thought of any way out of the predicament she and John were in. She still wasn't quite down from her acid trip and her mind wouldn't stay on the track long enough to come up with a solution. In desperation she picked up the phone and called "The Castle", the rooming house where Coon stayed.
"Hello?" a voice answered. It would be a miracle if anyone straight enough to talk was in The Castle on Saturday night. At least the guy had the first word right.
"Hi! Is the Coon there?" she asked.
"No man. He went on a trip this afternoon. I think he's still tripping. You know the Coon."
"Look, who is this? Is it you, Airborn?"
"That's me. High as the clouds, Airborn. Who's this?"
"Mimi Partrige. Now listen, Airborn. This is important. Do you know where Coon is?"
"Aw baby. That's a stupid question. Even when he's not tripping I can't tell where the Coon's at.
He's a strange head, you know? Always reading philosophy. Did you know he was married once? He's an odd head, Mimi. Nobody can figure out where the Coon's at."
"Airborn, I want to know where the Coon's body is. Dig? Where on this planet earth might I find the physical being of a mortal human known to his fellows as Coon? Are you hip, Airborn?"
"I'm hip. I'm hip. You want to know where the cat's hanging out. right?"
"I believe we have made a communication, Airborn," Mimi sighed. These long-haired hippy types disgusted her with their hip lingo.
"I don't know, man. He came back about dark, but he left."
"Could you ask somebody, please. It's a matter of somebody getting busted. Narcotics, lewd conduct, murder, the whole bit." If that doesn't get results, nothing will, Mimi thought.
"No Shit, man!?! Hang on........" Mimi heard the phone crash to the floor. She waited while Airborn screamed wildly through the house.
"Mimi? He's at Bill Solflex's pad. I wouldn't call over there though. A bunch of heads are on an STP trip over there. Listen, who's gonna get busted?"
"Me, pal. Listen to me now. One more question. Did Coon have a chick with him?"
"No. He did mention something about a real spacey chick named Ginger, or something. Said she was a Goddess or-"
"Thanks, Airborn. Check you later."
She kissed John on the lips and ran to the car. It would have been so much easier if he were sober, she thought. The idea of going into Bill Solflex's apartment alone was frightening enough. Add to the situation the fact that Bill and his cronies were on an STP trip and it became a terrifying prospect.
As she sped out of the parking lot Mimi almost ran into old Duke and a fifty-year-old bag who stumbled arm in arm down the road. She dropped two speed capsules to clear her head. By the time she arrived at the house where Solflex lived she was feeling cool, confident and groovy.
A lanky black-haired freak with a thin mustache answered Mimi's knock. It was Bill Solflex, the interior decorater. He recognized Mimi and laughed a deep frightening laugh.
"Well, Mrs. Partrige. Come in. We're the fourth bardo of an eight bardo journey. Are you stoned?"
"Too stoned," she cracked. "I've got to find Coon. Is he here?"
Bill didn't answer. He turned and walked back to the crowd of freaks. Mimi stepped inside and crept to the living room. Lee Koerner was playing his flute, but his wife Molly must have been at home. A quick glance around the room proved that Ginny wasn't there, but Coon was sitting cross legged digging the music.
Nobody noticed Mimi sneaking into the room. She squeezed into the circle next to Coon and waited for Lee to finish the song. Lee was an avant-garde musician who wrote all his own music. Mimi hoped the one he was doing now wasn't one of his two hour masterpieces. She didn't dig jazz.
The song ended after about five minutes. Mimi grabbed Coon by the arm. He didn't recognize her at first. If he had taken a dose of STP all was lost. Mimi looked him right in the eye and pleaded.
"Where's Ginny?"
"In the bedroom," Coon volunteered readily. "She's out like a light. We had to give her some downers. After the picnic she woke up over here and really freaked. Wanted to kill some chick named Elizabeth. She was kind of sore in the cunt, but one of the girls gave her a douche of some kind."
"Can she walk?"
"She's out, baby. We gave her three Darvon. She won't do any walking for at least eight hours."
"Look Coon, can you help me lift her into my car? I've got to get her back to Bardell."
"That's a big order, Mimi. You know how I am when it comes to doing physical labor. Why don't you-"
"Mimi! Hey! It's Mimi!!" Jackson Barton interrupted. Mimi flinched. Barton was an artist who had the hots for her body. He was always trying to get her in bed or into his studio to pose nude. He claimed that Mimi had the perfect model's figure, and he was not too far off.
"Why don't you do your dance for us?" Barton begged. Mimi's brain worked fast with the speed rushing through it. She had done her "dance" for acid heads many times, but John was always there looking on. Tonight there was no other choice.
"Jackson," she cooed, "If I do my dance, will you do something for me?"
"Certainly. Anytime. You don't even have to do your dance, baby. I'll do you in anytime you want."
"That's not what I had in mind, Jackson. But it's a deal. Put on that record of guitar solos by that California blues guitarist."
Strutting like a queen, Mimi stepped into the circle of freaks. She quickly removed all her clothes. Her erotic dance didn't rely on the old strip tease angle to arouse her audience. She crouched down in a yoga position and waited for the music to start. When the rhythmic twanging of blues guitar throbbed out of the stereo, Mimi set her body to work.
She brought herself slowly up from the floor. Her hips and shoulders swayed in time to the music, causing her tits to bounce back and forth. Striding around the circle on her long, lovely legs, Mimi waved her huge knockers in the faces of the freaks. Stopping in front of Jackson Barton, Mimi balanced on one foot like a ballet dancer. She lifted her right foot high above her head, exposing her hairy twat.
Barton stared with fascination at Mimi's open crotch. A clear drop of joy juice dripped from the tip of her orifice. The tip of her erect clitoris poked up between the withered flesh of her cunt lips. To his amazement, Barton saw Mimi's pussy contracting in the same rhythm as the music.
Spinning gracefully, Mimi danced over to the next fellow. She exposed her twat in the same manner and her wrinkled little hole winked a pink circle of flesh at the stunned observer. He reached out to grab her, but she laughed slightly and danced away. By the time Mimi had danced around the entire circle all the guys had huge erections. Some of them were stroking their dongs to the music, but most were just watching Mimi's body and letting their imaginations draw the sperm up their tubes.
As the music reached a climax, Mimi lay on her back and lifted her hips up in the air. With her legs spread wide, Mimi elevated her cunt as far as she could. The guitarist's fingers danced across the strings, playing a final fast run. Mimi's body twitched and quivered as if the fingers that plucked the strings were also tickling her twat.
A spasm of ecstasy shook Mimi's body just as the last notes of the recording faded away. From her crotch came a squirting geyser of gizzom. Her come shot up between her legs and hit the ceiling. Mimi lowered her hips and let the joy juice drip down on her belly. Around her the males were blasting sperm out of their dicks. Globs of jazz splattered all around her.
Before she could get into her clothes again, Mimi felt Jackson's clammy hands on her shoulders. Mimi shuddered disgustedly. She spun on her heels and looked Barton right in the eyes. His glassy, stoned stare was frightening. Mimi wondered if anything she said to him would get through.
"Jackson, you promised you'd do me a favor," she pleaded.
"I haven't forgotten, Mimi," he slurred, running his hand through her long hair. "What do you have in mind?"
"I've got to get the chick Coon brought in to my car. She's out on a downer trip, so you're going to have to help me lift her."
The idea wasn't too appealing to Jackson, but Mimi took him by the arm and led him to Ginny. Ginny was in rough shape. The paint had smeared and she was one solid mess of color. Mimi gasped when she saw a piece of banana sticking out of Ginny's twat. They wrapped the girl in a blanket and carried her to the car. With Ginny propped up in the seat, Mimi drove back to Bardell.
The sun was coming up by the time Mimi and John got Ginny up the steps of their apartment. It had taken Mimi almost an hour to wake John from his sound sleep. After they tossed Ginny in the sack in the spare room Mimi and John went to bed themselves. Ginny was still breathing, and as long as they knew she wasn't dead they were safe. After a good sleep they could decide what to do with her.
John slept all day Sunday. Mimi got up once when she heard Ginny stirring. She found Ginny stumbling around the kitchen looking for something to eat. Mimi fixed her a bowl of soup, scrubbed her off in the bath tub, douched out her cunt and gave her another sleeping pill. Ginny was still out when John and Mimi woke up on Sunday afternoon.
"What time is it?" John groaned.
"Five-thirty in the afternoon," Mimi answered.
"What day is it?"
"Sunday. And you missed church again, you heathen."
"Don't tell me you got up and went to church? You've got to be kidding. How come you didn't come to bed with me Saturday night? And what the hell were we doing out in the parking lot in the middle of dawn. I vaguely remember seeing the sun come up."
"I didn't think you'd remember too much of what went on. You were pretty dopey. I had to go into town and fetch our newest convert. Little Miss Prick Goddess is wanted at the hospital. Her husband is calling for her."
"Yeah, I remember now. Old Hatchet Face was up here looking for her. I wonder what happened to young Corny? Do you suppose he freaked out for good on that acid we gave him?"
"I can't imagine what else it might be. We've got to think of something to do with his wife. If somebody finds her with us, in the condition she's in, it'll be all over for us in this town."
"She's still pretty spaced out, huh?"
"I don't know, John. She was pretty lost last time I saw her."
Just then Ginny screamed in terror in the bedroom. John and Mimi ran to her side, John getting a hypodermic filled with a sedative. Ginny was sitting on the floor shivering. She ran her hands repeatedly over her skin which was covered with goose bumps. Looking at John and Mimi with fear in her eyes. Ginny started to weep.
"My skin," she sobbed, rubbing her chilly flesh, "My poor pretty skin. It's turned all white and bumpy. It used to be so pretty and colorful. And I've lost my beads and my brass peenie."
"Should I give her a shot?" John asked.
"Better not. Unless she starts screaming again. I think she's been under long enough. We might do more damage by giving her too many sedatives than if we gave her too much acid. Why don't you fuck her? That would calm her down."
John perked up at this suggestion. He still had his syringe ready, but he put it aside and dropped is pants. Mimi sighed when she saw the size of his prick. She hated to see such a huge bone go into somebody else's cunt. No sense in being selfish. The most important thing was that Ginny be taken care of.
Wrapping his arms around her, John lifted the chilly, frightened Ginny to the bed. He kissed each of her nipples until they were rock hard buttons. His hands roamed from her tits to her twat and he kissed her passionately on the mouth. The goose bumps started to disappear and Ginny's sobbing turned to passionate panting.
When John tried to poke his meat into her hot-box he gave a little howl and pulled it right out. Ginny's cunt was dry as a desert from all the fucking and fruit it had had the day before.
"Ouch!" John complained, "She must have sandpaper in her cunt."
He crawled down and lapped at her clit several times, shooting his tongue up her vagina and sending big globs of spit in to lubricate it. Ginny was moaning happily now, her wild eyes were closed and a smile was on her lips.
Mounting up again, John laid his long dong between her soft thighs. This time his aching rod slid easily into her wet twat. Ginny gave a sigh and started moving her hips in a slow circle. By the time her twat had lost all John's spit it was filled with joy juice. She wrapped her supple legs around John's ass and tugged, thrusting his meat all the way in to the balls.
Mimi watched with envy as Ginny let John's huge spear spread the walls of her vagina. Her husband's back was beaded with sweat and his balls were as big as hen's eggs. The knob of his pecker was as bright red and as big as an apple. Mimi felt her own twat tremble excitedly and drip pussy juice down her leg.
There was an empty champagne bottle within reach and Mimi grabbed it. She shoved the green bottle neck up her joy box and rubbed it back and forth against her clit. Keeping time with her husband's pumping pecker, Mimi brought herself to a climax at the same time John and Ginny had their orgasms.
Most of Mimi's come went into the bottle and she almost filled it up. After John had finished and his cock was back to its soft size, Ginny began complaining again. Mimi handed her the bottle of cool gizzom and Ginny sat sipping it while the Partrige's went to the kitchen for a little snack.
"I've got it, Mimi," John said. "We'll just toss her in the river. Give her a dose of downer and send her off into the Mississippi."
"Don't be silly. That would be murder. And besides, we have to do something that will throw the suspicion away from us. And we've got to do it quick."
Ginny came from the bedroom, sucking the last of the come from the bottle. She sat down and smiled at John and Mimi, offering them the bottle. Mimi pulled the shades, fearing that Dick Hienzen's wife might be looking in their window from across the street.
"Let me have some more acid," begged Ginny, "And something to eat. I haven't had anything to eat for days."
"No more acid just yet, Ginny," Mimi consoled, "But I'll make you a nice sandwich and a bowl of soup. First I think we better get some clothes on you."
While Mimi and Ginny looked for a suitable outfit for Ginny, John sat at the kitchen table thinking. He answered the phone and told Mrs. Bardell that he hadn't seen her daughter-in-law and that he was sorry about the way he acted Saturday night. The siren blew at the paper mill, calling the volunteer fire department out for a fire. The scream of the whistle gave John an idea.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The Fire Department
Willie Wienenkughel had told John about the volunteer fire department. Willie thought John might like to join. There wasn't much work involved and there were many benefits. The actual pay wasn't much, but every Monday there was a meeting in the fire hall with at least one keg of beer for refreshment.
Mimi and John spent Sunday night and Monday afternoon in a hectic scramble. They had to keep Ginny in tow and also out of sight. They had to keep her confused enough to remain in their clutches, and yet she had to be sane enough function. They also had to locate and purchase a dose of LSD strong enough to do in at least twenty people. It had to be in liquid form.
Monday evening came, and the Partrige's were all set. John had an eye dropper full of acid, more than enough to get the fire department good and stoned. Mimi had given Ginny a good dose of acid and was busy preparing her for the adventure. When John was certain the fire department had arrived at the hall, he put in a false fire call.
The trucks screamed past the store, O'Connor following in his squad car. John rushed over to the fire hall and snuck in the back door. He found the beer keg, freshly tapped, and deposited the LSD in it. He had to stay longer than he'd planned, because it took him several minutes to get the pressure pumped back up on the beer keg. Just as he left the hall, he saw the trucks returning. Luckily, nobody saw him.
Back at the apartment, Mimi had Ginny all decked out in a long, flowing, see-through robe. Ginny's body was painted up as it had been on Saturday, and Mimi had found another brass cock for her to wear. About a half an hour after the crew got back, Mimi and John whisked Ginny over to the fire hall and snuck her in the back door. John wanted to stay and take movies of the affair, but Mimi insisted that he return to the apartment.
Willie Wienenkughel was the first to recognize that something was going on besides a regular weekly drunk. His head started to reel the way it had on the night he'd gone to Judy's. He blinked his eyes and shook his head. The fire hose on the smallest truck looked like it was alive. On second glance it looked just like a giant pecker wound around a reel.
Before Willie could warn his fellow firemen that something strange was going on he was enjoying himself too much to care. Cy Stangle had started a small bonfire in the middle of the floor and all the fire fighters were gathered in a circle pissing it out. Willie took out his scabby cock and started to spray. His stream of piss hit George Hovantz on the legs and George howled.
The firemen chased each other around the hall and in and out of the trucks, pissing on everything and everybody. In a few minutes they were worn out and sat laughing and panting for breath. Somebody went to the keg for another glass of beer and the whole crew stormed to the beer. Dick Fick tied the spigot down in the open position, and the firemen took turns sitting in front of the spray with their mouths open.
When all the beer was gone the fellows were completely stoned and soaking wet. Following Cy Stangle's example, the guys all stripped to the skin. They stood gawking at each others' nakedness for several minutes. George Hovantz tucked his bone between his legs and walked up to Cy. He snapped his fingers and spread his legs. His big cock sprung up and slapped his overhanging beer belly.
Cy screamed in surprise and ran, cock first, into Jim Bitz, jamming his wick up Bitz' ass. Whipping it out of the hairy bung hole, Cy looked at his brown hammer and laughed. He took off on the run again, poking his prick into every ass hole he could catch. He was chasing Willie Wienenkughel when Ginny walked into the hall.
His shit-stained cock clutched in his fist, Cy stopped dead in his tracks. He looked at Ginny's seductive body, her colorful tits bulging out of her flimsy robe. The bright orange flames Mimi had painted around Ginny's cunt made her twat look like the bull's eye of a target. Cy's cock pounded and throbbed excitedly. He jerked for joy and shot a big wad of come that sailed through the air and splattered against Ginny's forehead, a little off target.
The big glob of gizzom slithered down between Ginny's eyes and slipped down her turned up nose. She stuck her tongue out and caught the sticky white blob as it fell from her nose. Gulping down the gizzom, Ginny marched up to Cy and put his limp prick in her mouth. Smacking her lips loudly, she licked the last few drops of come from the tip of his wand.
"I am a Prophet," she announced, "and a Disciple. I am the Goddess of the Penis. Through my body you may find the Way."
Tossing off her flowing gown, Ginny danced up to Dick Fick and took his meat in her hands. She kissed it several times and then stepped onto it. Ginny and Dick stood face to face, linked together by his stiff wand. She held on to his shoulders and balanced on her tip toes. Their tangled patches of hair bounced against each other and Ginny's huge tits pressed against his chest.
Jim Bitz stepped up behind and spread Ginny's shapely buns apart. He placed his swollen knob against her wrinkled little shitter and shoved. Ginny's hairy hole would not give way, and the force of Bitz' thrust just about knocked the two fuckers over.
"Wet your wand with something," Ginny suggested.
There didn't seem to be anything handy to lubricate Jim's cock with, so he poked it into a fire extinguisher and turned it on. Then he charged again, his bone covered with a three inch coating of white foam. This time he slammed into Ginny's turd tube at a dead run. His knob hit her pink anus and bounced off again. He returned to the extinguisher for more foam.
Before Jim got back to her butt, Ginny had brought Dick to a climax. His knees buckled as the blast of pleasure buzzed up his back. As his ejaculation erupted, Dick thrust his prick up Ginny's hot-box with all the force he could muster. His wad of gizzom squirted into her vagina so hard that it knocked her right off his wand. She landed flat on her ass with a thump.
Cy Stangle was watching sheepishly as another fireman climbed on top of Ginny. He stroked his limp cock, trying to get it hard again. It would be a shame if he missed out on fucking the Goddess of the Penis because he screwed all the assholes in the place. He noticed Ginny beckoning to him from where she lay on the floor.
"Put it in my mouth," Ginny advised. "I can get it hard again."
Laying down alongside her, Cy let Ginny take his dong in her hungry mouth. He felt chills spread all over his body as her soft jowls loved his sensitive skin. Her tongue worked on the pink area of his knob and her lips sucked the smooth, white bottom of his prick. In a minute Cy's wang was as big and hard as a cucumber. He pumped his hips, pushing his meat in and out of her mouth.
The fellow fucking Ginny's was quick coming. He shot his rocks after a few strokes and climbed off. Cy saw his chance and scurried from her mouth to her crotch. The jazz from two eruptions made Ginny's cunt extra juicy, and Cy's dong slipped in with such ease that he banged his hips roughly against hers.
Ginny flexed her cunt muscles and squeezed hard on Cy's dick. His cock was so excited from the blow job that he blasted off when her soft flesh wrapped tightly around his meat. Ginny scrambled to her feet as soon as Cy rolled off. She stood directly over him and placed one foot on each side of his head. Opening her hairy hole wide, she let the gizzom from three fucks flush out of her box. It fell like rain into Cy's open mouth.
George Hovantz tried his trick again. Only this time his cock didn't slap against his gut when he let it out from between his legs. It landed right in Ginny's crotch. She gave a little jump and George found himself standing in the middle of the fire hall, fucking the mayor's daughter-in-law.
It was a little hard fucking George in a standing position. His gut got in the way. Ginny pushed on his big belly with her own little tummy, while she kept his feet solid by stepping on them. They crashed to the floor and she sat there on his ample lap, bouncing up and down on his cock. It was a good move on her part, because Jim Bitz had just made another charge for her asshole.
Bitz tripped over George's feet and went sliding across the floor dragging his foamy cock through a puddle of piss and ashes from the fire prevention practice of earlier. He swore violently and went back for another lube job.
Old George couldn't believe it. He watched the beautiful body sliding in graceful movements over his cock. He hadn't used his pecker for anything but pissing in years. But there it stood, proudly supporting a furry V that bounced up and down, coating his old tool with joy juice. It had been so long since he'd had an orgasm that George didn't recognize it when it came.
"Oh, oh my God! My nuts! My guts! I think I'm having a heart attack! I feel a terrible rumbling in my guts and now my spine. Jesus, its spread to my pecker now!" George was beside himself.
For all his fussing, George didn't come up with much come. His tired old nuts squirted out a few drops of thin semen, more like piss than jazz. Ginny felt his old spear shrinking and she thought he hadn't even come yet. She crawled around with the quickness of a cat to suck up another hard for old George. He was done though.
"Oh no you don't," he protested. "You're not going to sap my strength. You'd suck the life out of me if I let you, wouldn't you? I'm getting out of here."
Scrambling to his feet, George ran for the fire hall door. His fat belly and buns bounced as he ran and his limp pecker dangled like a piece of sausage in Corny's butcher counter. Out into the darkened village he ran, leaving the rest of the crew howling with laughter.
Ginny didn't laugh too hard. She had been trying to spread the gospel of the cock, and she hadn't been getting across to them. She hadn't even had one orgasm herself. She was looking around for a god-sized prick when Jim Bitz finally caught up with her. He grabbed her by the buns and spread them wide. Pulling with all the strength in his burly arms and slamming his hips forward, Jim penetrated her poop shoot.
The shock of a bone in the butt startled Ginny. And after a few seconds, when the toxic foam soaked into the tender flesh of her rectum, Ginny started to scream. She pulled her ass away from Bitz and spun quickly around. Lashing out like a cornered lioness, Ginny clawed and scratched at Bitz' face with her sharp nails. Willie Wienenkughel remembered his first experience with Judy, and went screaming into the night in a state of terror much greater than the one that had overcome poor George.
The burning pain in Ginny's turd tube drove her to distraction. She clawed unmercifully at Bitz until the rest of the fellows came to his rescue. As they pulled her away, Ginny sent a foot sailing into his crotch and smashed his nuts up into his pelvis. Jim fell to the floor sobbing with pain, his face sliced to ribbons.
"My ass!" screamed Ginny. "He put something up my ass. It's on fire! Do something to help me. Get some water, please. My ass is on fire."
This was just the thing to tell a group of firemen on LSD. A fire was just what they wanted. In a mad rush, they started up the huge pump on their big tank truck. Cy Stangle turned on the truck's siren and flashing lights. Dick Fick and Charlie Stone manned the fifty foot hose. While five fellows held her in place, five more crammed the big brass nozzle up Ginny's poor little crap hole.
To get the hose completely unwound, they had gone out into the street. They were almost into the river, which flowed past the fire hall. The paper mill's dam was just a few hundred feet up river, and the spray from the rushing Mississippi soaked the crew of naked bodies. Ginny was still screaming and fighting, the pain had not gotten any better.
George was the Chief of the department. He usually ran the tank truck; set the pressure, checked the safety valves, turned on the hose. Maybe it was because the fellows running the rig that night were not too familiar with how it worked. Maybe the guys were just too stoned to do anything right. Maybe the pump had some kind of mechanical failure. Nobody will ever know. But when Dick Fick opened the valve at the truck and when Tom Bells opened the nozzle, disaster struck.
Just having an ass full of fire extinguisher fluid and a huge brass hose nozzle was enough to kill Ginny. The human body can only stand so much pain. But Ginny was not that lucky. A jet of water exploded in her rectum with such force that Ginny flew fifty feet through the air. She landed in the swirling water and sunk.
It was estimated that the stream of water that catapulted Ginny to her death had a force of more than ten thousand pounds of pressure. The tank truck was rated to operate safely within that pressure range. The tank exploded that night. After the hose lashed violently about, killing two of the struggling firemen and seriously injuring four others, the tank blew up. At the end of it all, five of the volunteers had died.
Jerry O'Connor had to call in the sheriff and the Highway Patrol to complete the rescue and recovery operation. He didn't try to explain why the firemen were all nude. He just looked in the direction of Corny's store and frowned.
Several of Dick Hienzen's ten children ran down to the fire to see the excitement. He didn't believe them when they told him that the firemen had been running around naked when the tank truck blew up. But for the second time Dick had to admit that since the kids moved into Corny's store things had started happening.
CHAPTER NINE
Lenny Johnson
Trouble was brewing in Bardell. Nobody talked about the disaster at the fire hall. Chief O'Connor was on the hot seat. Half the town's people wanted to fire him and the other half didn't care one way or the other. DeZurkee's was undergoing a big changeover, and fifty fellows had been laid off; Willie Wienenkughel was one of them. Even old Corny was the subject of criticism. Nobody knew why he didn't just throw those fucking hippies out of the apartment.
The citizen's committee met. So did the village council. And the school board and the P.T.A. Wally Polsky called a special meeting of the Minute Men. The John Birch Society met twice in one week. The whole town was involved in some sort of meeting almost every night. Lenny Johnson was alone at the bar and it pissed him off.
"Where the hell is everybody, Jim?" he asked the bartender.
"Meetings. The Lions are meeting. The Citizen's Committee is meeting. Wally is at a Minute Men meeting. Everybody is at a goddamn meeting."
"Shit. Things ain't been this fucked up since we tried to build a high school. I suppose they're all tryin' to figger out how to get rid of them hippies. If they'd listen to me, they'd be rid of 'em damn quick, I'll tell you."
Lenny sucked down his eighth shot of brandy and washed it down with a glass of beer. He scowled through his mass of scars and ordered another. Lenny was an embarrassment to the bartenders at Harry's. Five years ago he had driven his car right into a bridge abutment. Harry himself had been working that day, and he should have known that Lenny was too drunk to drive. Lenny had been in Harry's every night since the accident. Once when Lenny got unusually obnoxious, Wally had suggested that he'd had enough. Lenny grabbed Wally by the shirt and shouted: "You never said I had too much when this happened!" He pointed to his face. Ever since then Lenny was allowed to get as drunk as humanly possible and nobody blinked an eye.
Lenny hadn't been too bright before he started drinking heavily. The effect of five years steady drinking had left him a little better than an idiot. He could hold a job at DeZurkee's, cleaning up in the foundry. He lived in an old shack out by the dump, when he wasn't at work or at Harry's. He ate his meals, or meal, at Pete's Cafe and did his laundry in White Cloud. One week Harry kept track of Lenny's bar tab. Lenny had cashed his $97 pay check on Friday, and by the next Friday he'd spent $89 at the bar.
"I knew them kids was hippies right off," Lenny informed Jim. "Why the first night they was in town they was smoking that marijuana in the middle of the street out here. I seen that kid too. He was in here one afternoon, tellin' how niggers got bigger pricks than white guys. I said right then, that kid's a hippie or something.
"I don't know why they got to have so many meetings. Hell, if they'd listen to me, I know what to do with them. You ever hear of a hippy fightin'? Jim? You ever seen one of them hippies fight?"
"Can't say as I have," Jim replied, filling up Lenny's shot glass again.
"Well I'll tell you. I know how they fight. You want to know how them fuckin' hippies fight?"
"How do they fight, Lenny?"
"They don't. Chicken shit bastards don't fight. Ever seen one fight? No. That's because they don't fight. Why do you suppose the yellow fuckers won't go to the goddamn Vic Nam? You ever see a hippy in service? No. I'll tell you why too. They don't fight.
"Now why in the hell do they have to have all these meetings for? Don't they know them hippies don't fight? All they'd have to do is go up there and smack that punk in the fuzzy lip and that'd be it. But no. They got to have meetings. Jesus, that ain't the way it used to happen in Bardell."
"Suppose those kids aren't really hippies. After all, they don't look that much different from the rest of us. You can't run them out of town just because he's got a mustache, can you?"
"Oh, Jim. You got a lot to learn about hippies. Those kids are in disguises. You don't think hip pies are stupid, do you? They ain't so dumb as to come right in here wearing long hair and love beads and all that. They come in disguised.
"Nope. I seen that kid in here one afternoon. I talked to him right in the bar here. He's a hippy all right. Know something else? I think he's a goddamn communism agent, too."
Jim stifled a burst of laughter and poured Lenny another round. He looked at the clock. Those meetings better let up pretty soon. A guy can only stand so much of Lenny Johnson. Just then the bell over the bar room door jingled and in walked another customer. It was John Partrige.
"Hi!" John said. "Not too fast tonight, is it?"
"Been slow all week. Up until ten or eleven, when the meetings let up. What'll you have?"
"Shot of bourbon and a tap. Give one to Lenny here, too. How's it going, Lenny?"
"Ungh," Lenny nodded his head. He wasn't going to be too friendly with the "hippy", but he wasn't going to turn down a free round. Just so the kid didn't think Lenny had to buy the next drink.
"Quite a bit of excitement down at the fire hall last Monday," John stated, addressing Lenny. "Have they found out what was going on yet?"
"Ungh," Lenny shook his head. Even a guy as slow as Lenny knew better than to talk about the fire hall incident. Lenny got up and walked to the rest room. Jim turned his back on Partrige and busied himself at the cash register. John sat alone at the bar, fuming at the treatment he was receiving. Mimi had warned him to play it cool for at least a month, but John couldn't resist the chance. He slipped a tiny drop of acid into Lenny's shot glass.
"I seen Glenn Whiting got a new Cadillac," Lenny said to Jim, when he returned from the pisser.
"Yep. Ain't new, but it's only got twenty thousand actual miles on it. Body's in real nice shape," Jim said.
"Yeah, I seen he had a new car last night," Lenny repeated.
"Doesn't his wife run a beauty shop in her home?" asked John, trying desperately to get in the conversation.
"Ungh," nodded Lenny.
John shook his head disgustedly. The big oaf probably can't read or write, he thought. And that bartender wouldn't give me the time of day. Guess I'll just have to wait til the acid takes effect to hear anything interesting. He ordered another round, this time neglecting Lenny.
"I seen Hienzen got a new bitch in his kennel," Lenny burped. "There must be a lot of money in raisin' them dogs. If a fella once got set up like old Hienzen. Course it takes a lot of time to get them pups trained before you can sell 'em."
"Ungh," grunted Jim and John at the same time. John started laughing at the ridiculous conversation. Lenny squinted at him, twisting his face into a grotesque mask.
"What the hell's so fuckin' funny? You laughing at me? Hey! I don't have to sit here and have no hippy laugh at me. What the hell is going on here?" Lenny growled.
"Nothing personal, my friend. I was just thinking that this conversation was a real piece of intellectual communication. Here we sit, trying to lessen our everyday cares by consuming intoxicants and seeking our fellow man's companionship. And every word we say is 'ungh'."
"Ungh? I don't get all them big words. Talk slow, so I can get your meaning. Are you makin' fun or not?" Lenny was getting angry.
"I was making light, my man. I certainly didn't mean anything derogatory. I simply found that our situation was rather mirthful."
John knew better than to address a creature like Lenny in this manner. He was asking for a real ass kicking, and Lenny was just the guy to give it to him.
"I don't like college kids that smart off," Lenny warned.
"And I don't like country bumpkins that get rude in public bars," John snapped. He had taken speed earlier in the day, and his temper was not what it should have been. He looked at the ugly beast standing next to him and he felt extreme hatred. Lenny walked up to John and shook his finger in his face.
"Are you callin' me a country pumpkin?"
"Bumpkin, you moron!" John roared with laughter.
Idiot would have been a better choice of words. Lenny didn't have a very big vocabulary, but he knew the word moron. He remembered hearing it at the welfare board when some chicken-shit neighbors had tried to put him away for being mental. He remembered two days of tests and questions and charts. And he remembered some smart-assed woman who had been to college saying, as if Lenny were not even there to hear. "We find that Mr. Johnson is not a dangerous individual. His mental capacity is very low, however; he is slightly above a moron."
"Moron!" Lenny screamed, his features turning into a twisted maze of flesh colored furrows. Luckily for John, Lenny's anger was so great that his vision blurred and his perception failed. Lenny's long left arm swung through the air, missed John's head and crashed into Jim's jaw. The bartender fell to the floor, cold-cocked.
John dashed to the nearby pool table and grabbed a cue stick to protect himself with. Bellowing like a bull moose, Lenny charged after him. The two squared off across the green felt table. John struck out with his weapon, smacking Lenny soundly on the head. The blow didn't seem to bother the big ox. He chased John around the table three or four times.
"You'll never catch me, you big moron," panted John when they stopped. Across the table Lenny glared at him, his jaw clenched.
"You fuckin' hippy bastard. You smart-assed college kid, hippy bastard. You ain't supposed to fight. I never seen a hippy fight. Put that stick down."
"So I'm a hippy, am I? Well at least I'm not a scar-faced moron. How's your love life, handsome? Gettin' any lately? I hear Dick Hienzen got a new lab bitch. How does she fuck, Lenny?" John laughed.
While John roared with laughter he temporarily dropped his eyes. Lenny reached a big arm across the table and grabbed John by the hair. The big fellow jerked John over the table like he was a rag doll. His free arm smashed into John's face and sent him crashing into the bar. Now it was John whose vision blurred. He could vaguely make out the big form of Lenny Johnson coming at him.
In desperation John wielded the cue stick he still clenched in his fist. Thrusting it forward, tip first, he stabbed at the charging blur. If he had been able to see clearly, John wouldn't have been able to make out Lenny's eyes. His face was full of so many wrinkles and crevasses it was impossible to tell where the eyes were. By sheer luck, John jabbed the stick into one of Lenny's eyes.
Lenny came to a quick halt, reeled backwards and screamed in pain. Spinning the stick around, John crashed the heavy end over the big lug's head. Lenny was stunned enough for John to make a hasty retreat. John yelled one final insult as he left:
"You're so fucking ugly I bet Hienzen's dog wouldn't even fuck you."
Lenny stumbled into the toilet. He ripped the towel dispenser from the wall and tore off enough linen to bandage his bleeding eyeball. Then he walked to the sink to wash off the blood. The exertion had sent the LSD rushing to his brain, and poor Lenny looked into the mirror just as his mind tripped off into never-never land.
The sight of Lenny's face would have startled a straight person. He was ugly enough, but with his right eye gouged and bleeding he was a real monster. The sight in the mirror held him transfixed for several minutes. John's parting words echoed through his dull brain. I'm so ugly a dog wouldn't even fuck me, he thought.
Finally Lenny abandoned the mirror, leaving his bleeding socket unbandaged. He bolted out of the bar as Jim was coming to. Outside he heard Dick Hienzen's dogs barking at the moon. I'll show that moron hippy bastard, Lenny thought. We'll see who's so ugly a dog won't fuck him.
It seemed to take forever to get across the street and down the alley to Hienzen's dog kennel. Lenny's head was swimming with visions, but he was used to that. He'd often had the dt's as a result of drinking. He reacted to the LSD with less surprise than any of the other victims of John and Mimi.
Once he got to the kennel Lenny had trouble picking out the new bitch. The dogs kept changing shapes in his drugged brain. He finally decided on one cage. It was the bitch, alright. But to Lenny she looked like a beautiful woman. He crawled over the fence.
Dropping his pants, Lenny stood facing the barking hound. The bitch lowered her head and growled suspiciously. Lenny's cock stood up straight and hard and he stroked it lovingly. His hands trembled with excitement as the dog's image changed from human to animal before his glazed eyes.
With his hands in front of him, Lenny stumbled forward to grab the dog. She bounded past him, snarling viciously and snapping at his shins. Lenny turned and blundered ahead again, his pecker pounding in his fist. This time he got the dog cornered. Her frantic barking frightened him off for a second, but his aching cock urged him on. Braving her flashing teeth, Lenny reached out for the dog.
She nipped him twice on the hands before Lenny got a grip on her head. Pulling her roughly by the ears, he dragged the dog away from the corner and swung his leg over her sleek black body. The dog kicked and fought, but Lenny had both legs wrapped tightly around her belly. He worked his way back, dragging his nuts over her smooth coat.
Her tail hit his bung hole and Lenny knew he was getting close. His mouth hung open and he panted loudly for breath. The dog had quieted down a little and Lenny moved easily over her tail and placed his dong against her hole. He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he had the right opening. Then his prick throbbed so violently that he could stand it no longer.
With one hand wrapped around her belly and the other gripping her tail, Lenny jabbed his swollen love spear up the dog's anus. He heaved a sigh of joy and closed his eyes as the hot flesh of the hound's turd tube enveloped his pecker. The dog gave a startled yelp and began to howl like a wolf. Her piercing scream echoed through the air for miles.
Lenny's big cock slid in and out of the bitch's tiny poop shoot. With each stroke his meat got bigger and bigger. The dog howled in pain and released a flow of runny shit that smeared Lenny's cock and dripped down his balls. The sour smell reached Lenny's nose and he realized he was fucking the wrong hole.
Pulling his joy prong from the animal's rectum, Lenny probed her behind for the opening to her cunt. The dog struggled free and bounded to the opposite end of the kennel. Lenny felt his slimy, shit-smeared cock and gagged at the stench. He was charging the frightened animal again when the shot rang out.
A stinging volley of buckshot peppered Lenny. He cried out in pain as the fifty tiny pellets ripped into his flesh. Tossing himself over the fence, Lenny tried to run. His trousers were still down at the ankles, and Lenny fell flat on his face as a second round of shot sailed over his head. Pulling his pants up, Lenny ran like a deer. Dick Hienzen reloaded his double barrel and fired one more shot at the fleeing figure.
CHAPTER TEN
Dick Hienzen
Lenny kept running for what seemed like hours. When he finally collapsed he was four miles away, on the bank of the Whapton Creek. His ass ached and burned from the blast and his cock was still trembling, half hard, half soft. Lenny lowered himself into the cool water of the creek and stroked his meat.
He was right, thought Lenny grimly, I couldn't even fuck a goddamn dog. He closed his eyes and beat his meat until his seeds splattered out into the stream. The coolness of the water made him shiver and Lenny sneezed loudly. Dick Hienzen and two of his sons heard the sneeze.
"That was him," whispered Dick. "He's sitting in the creek up ahead. Bob, you circle around and come up on him from the right. Beaver, you work your way around back. I'll follow the creek. If he runs again, fire away, but remember where everybody is standing. We don't want to go shooting each other."
Dick watched his boys sneak quietly through the brush. He waited for a few minutes to give them time to get in position. They're good boys, he thought. That Beaver is going to be a big fellow, just like his pa. Dick smiled in the dark. Of all his six sons, Beaver was his favorite. He had been the last son by Dick's first wife. Ten kids by two wives was a pretty good score for any man, Dick thought. A low whistle broke his train of thought.
Moving forward quickly, Dick surprised the stunned and drugged Lenny. When he saw Hienzen come charging along the creek bank, Lenny panicked. Slashing through the water like a frightened cow, Lenny made for the opposite shore. He heard Dick yelling and the two boys answer. Reaching the shore, Lenny lumbered up the steep bank. He heard a loud roar and saw the ground explode just two feet to his left. His lunkard's mind deduced that only a high-powered rifle could make that kind of a hit. This was serious.
"Hold it," shouted Bob. "I've got you now. Put your hands up."
Trapped! Lenny cursed. His eye had gone shut as the blood clotted, and he could barely make out the form of Bob Hienzen twenty feet away from the spot where he stood. Making one of the fastest decisions of his life, Lenny reeled and dove back down the bank he'd just climbed, splashing head first into the creek.
The Hienzens peppered the creek with lead, aiming in the area that Lenny had landed in. Then they ran along the swirling creek, reloading their weapons as they went. Dick shined his electric lantern back and forth across the water, shouting instructions to the boys.
"Stay on that side, Bob. Beaver, you bring up the rear. Watch that he don't hide under a windfall now. Slow down, Bob."
Lenny had been hit in the thigh by a slug from Beaver's 30-06. The creek was still high as it had been in the middle of the spring thaw, and its swift current pulled Lenny along faster than the Hienzens could walk. When he brought his head up for air, Lenny saw them several yards behind him. The water had reopened his eye, and it smarted terribly. Lenny was in so much pain that he went into a state of shock.
Flailing with his powerful arms, Lenny tried to swim against the current. He struggled mightily, but could only maintain his position. Upstream, the Hienzens heard his splashing and rushed ahead, rifles cocked. When he saw them coming, Lenny swam to shore and pulled himself out of the water. Lowering his head and bellowing obscenities, the wounded Lenny charged, limping severely.
Dick Hienzen's flashlight hit Lenny in the face. In the eerie light the twisted mug looked so ghostly that Dick dropped the light and aimed his rifle. The boys, almost too frightened to move, did the same. Three blasts rang out and three distinct thuds were heard as the slugs entered the charging beast's body. He slowed down a bit, but kept on coming.
Beaver could see the fearsome face in the moonlight. The monster was only twelve feet away, and Beaver felt like turning tail and running. Instead he took careful aim at the creature's head and fired. The bullet stopped Lenny in his tracks. His head snapped backwards, his impotent brains splashing out the back of his skull, and he fell with a crash.
"By God if it don't look like Lenny Johnson," Dick exclaimed in amazement. "I musta hit him in the eye when I fired the shot gun. He musta gone clean outta his mind. Look here! He was hit in the leg too. And he still kept comin' when we all three pumped a slug in his belly. He musta gone outa his mind. We better go get the jeep and bring him in."
"We gonna take him to the cop, Pa?" asked Beaver.
"No. I never did hold with that asshole O'Connor. The way he's been fuckin' things up lately I don't want him to have any part of this. We'll, take him to the sheriff. Let's go."
Connie Hienzen was scared stiff when they got back to the house. She had heard the gunfire, and she feared the worst. She ran out of the house and threw her arms around Beaver. Then she ran to her husband.
"Oh, Dick, I was so worried. What happened? I heard shooting."
Dick explained as quickly as he could. He was in a hurry to get the body loaded up, before somebody went out to investigate the gunfire. His wife was in tears by the time Dick was ready to leave with the jeep. Dick decided to let Beaver stay at home with his step-mother.
Connie and Beaver walked into the house arm in arm. Beaver would be seventeen next month, Connie thought as she hugged his strong young shoulders. A year or two more and he'd be leaving home. She shuddered at the the thought of losing him.
She was much younger than her husband. As a matter-of-fact, Connie was closer to her step-son's age than she was to her husband's. Old Dick was a kind, patient man, but he was old. All the town's people joked about him being virile, saying he'd fucked his first wife to death. The truth was that Dick slipped it to young Connie as little as once every two or three months. In fact, their last child, born two years earlier, was the result of Connie and Beaver's first time together.
"How long do you think they'll be?" Connie whispered in her son's ear.
"Long enough," he answered, running his hands slowly over her body. "Let's go down in the basement."
Downstairs in a hidden corner where they'd stashed a mattress, the two undressed. Beaver watched his mother take off her lacy bra and bounce two huge tits. He thought of his father's sagging chest and cringed. It wasn't fair that such a beautiful body as his mother's had to bed down with a worn out old elephant like his dad.
His mother wiggled her hips and tugged off her sexy little panties. Her mound of curly cunt hair bristled between her thighs and Beaver felt his heart beating faster. She stepped over to him, smiling her sly smile, and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her soft warm lips met his and he felt her dancing tongue probe his mouth. He sucked it far back into his throat.
Connie's hands searched her young son's firm body. She caressed his muscular back and shoulders, pressing her rock hard nipples into his chest. The tip of his cock brushed lightly against her hairy mound and a drop of clear semen formed at the pee-hole. They were both panting passionately now. Beaver took his mother in his arms and lowered her to the floor.
His hand went slowly up the inside of her thigh. She sobbed for joy when his thumb reached her seething hot-box. His fingers parted into her twat. The muscles of her cunt squeezed his finger tight and she gyrated her hips violently, rubbing her clit against his digit.
When his mother's cunt was flowing with pussy juice, Beaver took his finger out. He tickled her clit a few more times for good measure and then lay his burning bone between her soft white thighs. Connie gasped when she felt his throbbing hot-rod touch her feminine opening. She reached around for his buns and tugged, pulling his hips to hers. His young prick split the wall of flesh and reamed all the wrinkles out of her wet vagina. Connie thought she would faint from joy as her twat triggered sexual bliss through every nerve in her body.
Connie had watched her son grow over the past three years. She had also felt him grow. She remembered their first fuck like it had just happened yesterday. Beaver's little dink had stood up proudly from his tiny patch of crotch hair. He had trembled nervously as she guided his small cock into her gaping cunt. She remembered how it got bigger and bigger once inside.
That first time his cock had reached the size of a big banana and spit out a wad of come that would have filled a table spoon. Now his bone was twice that big when he first shoved it in. His knob alone was as big as his clenched fist. When he shoved it in it hit the bottom of her womb, causing her female fluid to flow even faster.
As Beaver neared his moment of truth, Connie felt his cock reaching full size. She thought his loaf of bread would split her in two, and when he pumped his gizzom into her box she thought the wad of sperm he deposited would make her cunt explode. He gave his cock a few more strokes before it went soft, allowing his mother to reach her climax.
Connie's orgasm shook her from top to bottom. She kicked and squirmed so violently that her son almost fell off her thrashing body. Her gizzom squirted out when his cock softened up enough to pop out of her cunt. A stream of come flew through the air and splattered against the wall. Connie sighed and kissed her young step-son.
They dressed quickly and hurried up the steps. Beaver watched his mother's shapely ass swing as she moved. He felt his prick growing hard again and secretly cursed his father. He grabbed her and kissed passionately on the mouth, squeezing her big tits roughly in his hands. As they stepped into the kitchen they heard the jeep pull into the yard.
"Well, we took the body to the sheriff," bellowed Dick. "He asked a few questions, but when I told him what that rummy was doing to the dog, he said he'd just write it off as an accidental death. Sure is lucky for the town the sheriff is Pete Loer. With all the other funny business going on around here all we needed was this thing to hit the papers."
"I suppose the hippies are at the bottom of this, too," sighed Connie.
"I didn't believe all the talk about the kids, at first," Dick said, "But I'm convinced that there's something fishy about those two. And I intend to find out what's what. Chicken shit people around here. After all that's gone on in the past few weeks what do the local citizens do? Hold meetings! Well I'm holding a little meeting with those kids right now."
He stormed out of the house and marched across the street. John and Mimi heard him thundering up the steps. John cursed the fact that they were out of LSD and went to the door. He recognized Dick's huge frame right away and opened the door.
"Hello, Mr. Hienzen," John greeted him cheerfully, "Come on in. What can I do for you?"
"You can give me some information, sonny," Dick barged into the house, pushing John aside with a wave of his hand. "And if you can't give me some information, maybe I'll do something for you. Something like throw your young ass out of town."
"Don't get pushy, old man. Just don't go throwing your weight around or you're apt to realize how old you really are. Now what do you want to know?" John asked.
"What in the hell did you do to Lenny Johnson tonight? I saw you go over to Harry's about three, four hours ago. Lenny's car was the only one in the parking lot at the time. Next thing I know my new bitch is baying like a coon hound on a hot trail. I goes out back and what do I see? Lenny Johnson in the kennel with her, in a attitude of unnatural sexual action."
"Well I'll be," John said, suppressing a smile.
"Now you listen to me, laddy. I saw the cop stop and lecture you the first night you were in town. I saw Little Corny's car parked at your place all night, right before he had his accident and his wife disappeared. Now I ain't one to gossip, or point fingers, but it just seems to me that ever since you moved in up here strange things are happening all the time."
"I assure you Mr. Hienzen, I had nothing to do with any of the terrible incidents that have occurred since I moved into town. It's just a coincidence. The people blame me because I'm a stranger and people would rather suspect a stranger than their old friends. If you ask me, Chief O'Connor knows more about all these events than he lets on. But that's just my opinion."
"Look kid, I don't care for that cop any more than you do. He's a sneaky shyster from the word go. Why a couple years back-Hey! What do you think you're doing here? You ain't gonna trick me with them fancy words. Your the one under the gun here, not O'Connor. I don't give a shit what you think. I know what I think and I know what the people of Bardell think. I ain't warning or threatening you. I'm telling you. Get your young ass out of Bardell before it gets throwed out."
"But Mr. Heinzen I-"
"No buts from you, punky. A man was killed tonight. That's the second time since the fire hall accident there's been a death in Bardell. We ain't never had any trouble like this since John Jerisek killed his kids and his wife and himself. We don't like trouble in Bardell, sonny. Now you take my advice and get out, quick!"
Hienzen poked John sharply in the chest with his finger to make his point final. Then he turned and swaggered across the street to his home. He poured a shot of brandy and tossed it down. Beaver was cleaning the rifles in the trophy room and Connie was sitting there with him. Dick strutted in and jerked his wife roughly into his arms. He didn't notice his son wince when he touched Connie.
"Well, I told them to get out. By God, them committee meetings could go on for days or weeks. Better for the kids too. If Wally and his boys get up in arms, they'll take them kids out of town feet first. They'll do well to listen to old Dick Hienzen," he boasted.
"Aren't you sleepy, honey?" Connie asked, hoping to send him off to bed. She and Beaver had been necking while he was over at the hippies. They were both dying to fuck again.
"That's my little girl," Dick winked at her, pinching her ass between his clumsy fingers. "Let's you and me go hit the sack. I'm in the mood for a little loving tonight."
Connie looked at Beaver with a sick expression on her face. She saw the anger and hatred in his eyes and put her arm around her husband. She hurried Dick from the room, fearing that Beaver would take the gun in his hands and shoot his father.
Connie lay passively under her huge husband. His big belly put pressure on her own flat stomach and his sagging chest pressed against her beautiful boobs, flattening them like pancakes. His clammy skin felt cold and dead pressed on her soft flesh. And when he kissed her mouth she gagged from the smell of stale brandy and rotten eggs.
His failing old pecker poked into her juicy young cunt. She could hardly feel it wiggling in and out, and it missed her clitoris by three inches. After a few feeble strokes, Dick dribbled a little jazz and rolled off. He fell asleep immediately. Connie got out of bed and tiptoed down the hall to the bathroom. She stepped in and locked the door behind her. There, sitting in the bathtub, was Beaver. His prick stood up proudly, surrounded by soap suds.
Motioning for her son to stay in the tub, Connie discarded her robe and stepped in with him. His pecker shot up her anxious vagina as she sat down on his lap. She sobbed in relief and bounced up and down in the tub, splashing soapy water out on the floor. Poor Beaver almost drowned when his mother's bouncing forced his head beneath the hot bath water.
Placing his finger under his mother's bouncing buttocks, Beaver gave her a slippery goose as she came down on his dong. She squealed in surprise as the soapy finger shot up her tight turd tube. Beaver continued goosing her until the nerve ends in her rectum were loved to distraction. With both her cunt and anus giving her messages of sexual joy, Connie didn't take long to reach orgasm.
Her ovaries started pumping joy juice and her body shook and shivered despite the heat of the of the warm bath water. Hot gizzom flowed out of her seething cunt and ran down Beaver's pecker. Her come mixed in with the water and disappeared. Connie was exhausted from the or deal, but her son was not done yet. He grabbed her hips and kept her pumping up and down.
She felt his rod pounding in her pussy and she knew he was going to really blast out a wad. There had been times when her young son's nuts had fired sperm out so fast and hard that the blast had almost hit her ovaries. She knew this would be one of those times.
Her son closed his eyes and opened his mouth. He gave a low moan and tugged strongly at his mother's hips, thrusting his own forward. With his cock buried deep in her pussy, Beaver gritted his teeth and fired a pint of pud up his mom's vagina. The white secretion hit her womb wall and bounced her ovaries up to her guts. Connie flew off Beaver's bone and landed in the back of the tub with a splash.
Drying herself off in a hurry, Connie rushed back to her husband's bed. She told Beaver to clean up the mess in the bathroom, and left him sulking over his task. Bob came in while Beaver was finishing up and asked how all the water got on the floor. Beaver just told him to shut up.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
John Partrige
While Dick Hienzen slept and the rest of the town argued until early morning, John and Mimi Partrige had a meeting of their own. Hienzen's warning had been enough to frighten Mimi into leaving, but John would not be intimidated. He was short tempered enough to begin with, and when he was pushed he became as stubborn as a mule.
"So the town wants us out of here, do they?" John paced the floor. "Shit. That big gook who got shot tonight was better off dead. I did the community a favor getting rid of the bastard. Anybody who'd fuck a dog is a real danger to the world, right?"
"John, I think you better get serious about this. One Dick Hienzen would be rough enough to handle, but suppose fifty or a hundred of those creeps come charging up here. From what I hear, the Minute Men are just aching to use their guns. I think we'd better get out of town fast."
"My dear, there's no reason to panic. We might be two against seven hundred, but we have our superior intellect on our side. Just let me think for a few minutes, I'll come up with something."
They bickered for three or four hours, Mimi insisting that they get out of town, John set on teaching the village a lesson. Mimi just about had him convinced that there was nothing to do but split the scene when he got his brain storm. Once he had a definite idea, John could not be denied.
"It's beautiful. Why didn't I think of it weeks ago? I'll stone the whole fucking town! Groovy, no? And easy, too. All I have to do is dump a pint or so in the water supply. I know it's not very hard getting up that water tower. The only problem would be getting that much acid."
Much to his wife's dismay, John left Bardell just as the sun was coming up. He took some speed to stay awake and took off for Chicago, at least five hundred and fifty miles away. He hated to make the drive, leaving Mimi alone in Bardell, but it was the only way he could get a large amount of acid quickly and cheaply.
There was only thirty miles of bad road the whole route between Bardell and Chicago. John pushed his little bug to the limit, doing seventyfive to eighty miles an hour most of the way. It was just past two p.m. when he pulled into a motel and got a room for at least two days. He didn't know how long it would take him to find his connection, or how long it would take his friend to hunt up a big order of acid. The first thing he decided to do was sleep. It had been a rough drive, and the speed was starting to wear off.
John slept like a log until late that evening. He woke up, hungry as a hog, and went out looking for some action. He hadn't been to Chicago for three years, and he was excited about the prospect of going out on the town. Funny, he thought, the only time I came to Chicago since I got married four years ago I didn't enjoy it. Then he realized that this was the first time he'd been separated from Mimi in four years.
Whistling a tune, John strolled down the street to his favorite restaurant. He winked at the waitress and ordered a steak. He loved to eat in fine places, and it was the first time in a long spell that he had done so. John wondered if Mimi hadn't been right about leaving the little town of Bardell. Maybe they should even leave Minnesota and move to the West Coast or New York. After his dinner, John took a taxi to the bar where he figured his old friend would most likely be hanging out.
"Has Gus been in tonight?" John asked the bartender after downing a Rusty Nail.
"Gus? You mean Gus the Greek? Young guy about your age?"
"That's the guy. He usually comes in here in the evenings, doesn't he?"
"Like clock work. The other bartender tells me that this Gus has been stopping in here regular for about five years. Always drinks the same thing: Black Russians. Got his own favorite brand of coffee liquor he insists on, too. One night we were out of his brand and I slipped him a drink with our regular bar brand. He took one sip of it and spit it out. Stormed out of the place and didn't come back for a month. I damn near lost my job over that."
"Has he been in tonight?" John repeated.
"Not yet. I expect it'll be a few more minutes. I can tell you where he usually sits, if you want to wait. You're a friend of his, aren't you? I'd hate to set him up for a pinch or something."
"Don't worry about that. I'm an old friend. I used to stop in here myself a few years back. I'll wait right here, and you tell Gus that John Partrige is here, when he gets in."
By the time John had drunk three more drinks the bartender nodded across the room. Gus was just sitting down at a table and a waitress stopped immediately and placed a Black Russian before him. She said something to him and pointed in the direction of the bar. Gus looked around and spotted John, a big smile broke out on his face and Gus stood up and motioned John to come over to his table.
"Partrige, you old son-of-a-gun," laughed Gus, slapping John on the shoulder. "What the hell are you doing in Chicago? The wife with you?"
"I'm on my own, Gus," John shook his hand. "Came to town to do a little shopping. Around White Cloud, Minnesota you can only find so much merchandise, you know what I mean?"
"Hey, John. Don't tell me you're going to go into big business? Shit, man. I never figured you for the type of guy that hit the big time. I thought you were a school teacher, or something straight like that?"
"That's right, Gus. I'm working on a teaching assistantship at a little state college. And I'm not going into business for myself on the side. I'll explain the whole thing to you some other time. What's up for tonight?"
"I don't really have anything going at the moment. I was just going to sit here and get juiced and see what came through the door. Looks like a good night for that," he nodded to the entrance where two beautiful Negro girls had just walked in. They were looking the place over carefully before deciding to stay. Gus snapped his fingers to the waitress and whispered a few words. In a flash the girl ushered the two black beauties to the table next to Gus and John and served them a drink, on Gus.
"You old rattle snake. Still chasing whores, are you?" John kidded his old friend.
"Don't give me any shit about paying for it, lad. You payed a bigger price than I ever have. Marriage is just another form of prostitution and you know it. Besides, Mr. Greenhorn, those girls aren't whores. I'll prove it to you, if you want. You're not the type of guy who objects to a little stray pussy when the wife's not around are you?"
"You know me better than that, Greek."
"Guys change after they get married, you know. And it's been a long time. But if you want to, we can move in on these two young Afro American cunts."
"Let's see your famous technique," John urged, "I bet you a five spot you can't get in the tall one's pants by midnight."
Gus looked at the clock. He had two and a half hours to make it. He took out a five dollar bill and handed it to John.
"You hold the money. Now watch this."
In fifteen minutes the four of them were riding in Gus' Lincoln Continental. They drove around the lake and eventually stopped at a plush apart ment house. The clock said twenty minutes past ten when they walked into Gus' big pad. The girl's went to the toilet to freshen up and have a conference, and Gus fixed some drinks.
"You can keep the money," he whispered to John, "I want the little one. Have you looked at her tits?"
"Why do you suppose I made that bet, smoothie," John smirked. "If you really want her, we can trade after a turn or two. How's that sound?"
"The bet's still on then, right?"
"Right. And you have an hour and a half to get your pecker planted in the big one's fine soft land."
The girls came back from the John and sat down. John brought the big fitted one a drink and moved in on her. She was dressed in a short white skirt and a black, see-through blouse. Her round, black thighs were scarcely covered by her scant skirt, and John could barely take his eyes away from them. She crossed her legs seductively, moving her supple thighs like a cat.
John could see her huge jugs sagging down. The nipples hid perfectly behind the buttons on the pockets of her blouse. When she laughed he could spot the hard, black tips jiggling on the end of her mountains. John put his arm around her and kissed her lightly on the neck, rubbing his other hand across her soft thighs.
The girl purred slightly and turned her face to John. She kissed him full on the mouth and he shot his tongue between her parted lips. He felt her tugging on his tongue, sucking powerfully. When she panted for breath he pulled his tongue back and moved to her ear. Taking her black lobe in his mouth he nibbled lovingly and shot his tongue in and out. Minnie was panting fiercely now, and so was John.
John's fingers were trembling excitedly when he started to take off the blouse. He almost ripped off a button, and Minnie laughed under her breath. She undid the stubborn button and let John peel the transparent blouse from her back. Her huge boobs hung from her chest like bowling balls. John put his hands over them and squeezed gently. He felt the soft folds of black flesh between his fingers and the hard nipples against his palms.
Dropping his head to her chest, John took one of Minnie's nipples between his lips and tickled it with his tongue. He sucked her boob until his whole mouth was full of tit. With his hand he placed her other tit in his ear. John played "telephone" for several minutes. Then he sat up and looked around for a bedroom. Gus and the tall girl, Sheila, were dancing to a rock and roll record.
As he took Minnie into the bedroom, John looked at the clock. He winked at Gus as he left the room. Gus wasn't going to make it by twelve o'clock if he didn't get down to business. Sheila looked awfully cool and detached. John smiled and kissed little Minnie passionately.
The bedroom they entered was not the master bedroom, but it was still one of the fanciest rooms John had ever been in. The carpet was so thick that John and Minnie sank to their ankles. John grabbed Minnie's waist and hugged her tight, unzipping her skirt as he kissed the back of her neck. Her skirt fell to the floor and Minnie stepped out of it, moving closer to the big bed.
John ran his fingers under the elastic of her bikini panties. He passed over her tangled mat of cunt hair and probed her crotch for her clitoris. Her dripping hole bathed his finger in joy juice when he located her orifice. Wiggling her clitoris back and forth, John triggered a flow of pussy juice that splashed out of Minnie's honeypot soaking her silky panties.
Dropping to his knees, John ran his hands down Minnie's shapely legs, pulling her panties off as he went. As she stepped out of her panties, John stuck his head between her thighs, shooting his tongue into her black crotch. His tongue lapped her pink vagina and teased her erect little clit. The juices tasted rich and good to his hungry mouth.
Minnie fell back and landed on the bed. Her black body on the white spread was stunning. John stared at the jet black Y of her thighs against the soft silk bed cover. He fumbled at his buckle and zipper, dropping his pants in a hurry. When he was stripped completely nude, John climbed onto the bed. He crawled over Minnie's body inch by inch, starting at her toes.
His tongue went over the pink skin on the soles of her feet. He sucked her big toe into his mouth and ran his tongue between her toes. Working his way up, John paused at her ankles, kissing them tenderly. He ran his tongue slowly up the inside of her smooth calves and licked her vigorously behind the knees.
Minnie shuddered and squeezed her legs around John's head as his tongue passed up her thighs and traced the opening of her cunt. He grazed her proud little clit, its head poked up between the withered black lips of her cunt. With his nose lodged in her hairy mound, John ate away at Minnie's seething V. She could feel his cock pounding at her ankles, a few drops of semen dripping out of his pee-hole.
John moved up again. He tongued her belly button vigorously, kissing her flat tummy all over. When he reached her gigantic tits, John's dick was right between her knees, and Minnie felt his balls bouncing on her legs. He sucked her nipples gently, hurrying now. His cock was booming and throbbing by now.
Dragging his dong between her sleek, black thighs, John mounted up on Minnie's anxious body. Her black twat snapped out and almost bit his knob off. Her hairy hole expanded and her orifice gyrated forward with her hips. She wrapped her twat lips around his hot-rod and pulled his purple prick into her wet pink joy box.
Pressing his hips down hard, John forced his magic wand into her meat grinder. Their curly crotches ground together as he banged his nuts into her ass. Pulling it out again, John felt her talented twat tugging at his spear, clinging so tightly he had trouble getting it out. When the tip of his knob rested against the lips of her cunt John poked it back in again. He heard Minnie sob for joy as her fleshy vagina gave way to his stiff battering ram.
Picking himself up on his arms, John glanced down at their crotches. His white thighs lay between her stark black ones. His pink pecker perched on her furry black love mound and then plunged into her sea of darkness. She moved her sexy hips with more grace than a ballet dancer and more agility than a cat.
Dropping to her body again, John hugged her tight. He felt her hard nipples poking into his chest and her shapely hips pumping in time with his. Pressing his mouth to hers, John shot his tongue deep into her throat, taking hers into his mouth. His hand slipped under her curved butt and he shot a finger up her rectum. The hot gasses of a fart scorched his finger and he pulled his arm back.
Pussy juice was running so freely now that John's pumping prick beat up a frothy foam. A ring of white joy juice formed around their crotches and each time his cock went slamming into her box a loud splash was heard. John could feel her clit trembling like a frightened bird's heart. A throaty moaning sound started to rise from her throat.
Tossing her legs around John's ass, Minnie let go of all her inhibitions. Screaming, scratching, jerking and farting, Minnie squirted her gizzom out of her ovaries and into her twat. The foamy ring of joy juice was washed away by the flow of her come. John could feel the flow of sticky fluids dripping down his nuts, and he could also feel his nuts pounding jazz up into his tubes.
Minnie put her hand around and started squeezing his sack gently. She did it more for her own benefit than to turn him on. Minnie had not taken her birth control pills for a month. But she was from the old school anyway, and she could tell when a man was going to come just by feeling his balls. She kept a good grip on John's nuts until he was almost ready to shoot his wad. Then, as John's pecker started to explode, Minnie did a quick jerk of her hips and slipped his wang right up her poop shoot. If it hadn't been for a slight difference in texture, John never would have noticed the change of holes.
The hot fluid scalded Minnie's anus and she let out another huge fart. John's pecker and half the sperm he'd deposited came flying out of her ass. John heard some of his come splatter against the door on the other side of the room and he felt the effects of the hot blast on his dong.
"You ought to bottle those and sell them to the government. They could use them for rocket fuel," John joked, rubbing his scorched prick.
"Don't tease, honey," Minnie smiled, "Or I'll wrap my legs around your head the next time I get ready for one."
CHAPTER TWELVE
Sheila
"I wonder how Gus is getting along with Sheila," John muttered as he pulled his pants back on. Minnie was squirming into her tight skirt, and she laughed when she heard John's statement.
"I can guess that he didn't get into Sheila's pants yet," Minnie chuckled. John frowned in surprise, wondering if the girls were in on the little bet.
"Well if he hasn't, he'll be pissed off," John said, buttoning his shirt.
"If he did he'll be more than pissed off," roared Minnie, slapping her side.
"Laugh your heart out, lass. I'm going to go out there and see what's happening. I'll bet you five bucks that Gus and Sheila are in the bedroom. If they aren't it'll be because they got done fucking before we did."
"That's a bet, man."
"If Gus comes back instead of me, it's because I'm taking a turn on your long, tall friend," John smiled as he walked to the door. His fingers got stuck up with sperm as he opened the door, and he cursed Minnie's high power farts. Minnie was shaking her head, begging him not to leave as he closed the door and returned to the living room.
Gus and Sheila were sitting at the coffee table, at opposite ends of it. They were sipping drinks and talking in cool tones. It didn't look like Gus had scored with the big Negress. That's five bucks for me, John thought. But five I'll have to pay Minnie. Smiling to Sheila and Gus, John walked to the bar and mixed himself a drink.
"How's tricks?" John asked.
"I'm fine, sweetie," Sheila cooed, "But I don't think your pal Gus, here, is having too much fun. He doesn't seem to be enjoying my company."
"Excuse me, Sheila," Gus snapped. "I have to go water my horse. John can take over where I left off. If I get lost, call out the National Guard." He winked at John and stepped out of the room, heading for the bedroom and Minnie's huge tits. John sat down next to Sheila and sipped his drink. He noticed her body tense up and her eyes flash a warning to keep his hands off.
Chattering foolishly, John bided his time and studied the striking woman. She was exceptionally tall, maybe six feet. Her legs were slim and shapely and long. Although her hips were sexy and curved nicely, they were thin and narrow. Sheila's waist was almost non-existent. John felt that he could reach both hands completely around her tiny middle, and he longed to grab her.
His eyes drifted up to her bosom. She wasn't wearing a see-through blouse, but she wore no bra and her blouse was tight enough to give John a good look at the tits. They were small, but nicely shaped. Her nipples didn't show up, so he could see that she was not sexually aroused. Have to do something about that, John thought.
Placing his hand on her shoulder, John carefully made his move. Sheila gave him a cold stare as he closed in on her, and when his face was just inches from hers he could see that she was frightened. Her beautiful dark eyes trembled as he moved closer, and her breathing was hurried and nervous.
John moved his hand to her lovely face and gently caressed her elegant cheeks. His finger traced the outline of her thin lips, and Sheila opened her mouth slightly to sigh a deep passionate sigh. Pressing his lips to hers, John kissed her gently and tenderly.
Sheila reacted to the kiss by throwing her lithe arms around John's shoulders and hugging him in a powerful embrace. She closed her frightened eyes and opened her mouth, panting uncontrollably. Her lips sought John's eagerly, and she shot her long tongue into his mouth. John took advantage of her excitement. He kissed her eyes, her cheeks, her ears, her neck, working his expert hands slowly over her shoulders and down her chest.
He could feel Sheila's blood rushing madly through her veins as he caressed her lovely black body. His hands cupped over her tiny tits and he squeezed gently. Sheila sobbed excitedly, but he couldn't feel her nipples hardening. Tugging at her blouse, John worked his hands beneath the cloth and ran his fingers over her bare flesh. He found her firm breasts and teased her nipples with the tip of his fingers.
Slowly Sheila's nipples wrinkled up and formed hard little bumps. John gently fondled the black boobs, kissing her mouth at the same time. With his free hand he started to go for her cunt. Placing his hand on her lovely knees, John squeezed them firmly. He felt her legs tighten together the second he touched them. His fingers worked in between her slim thighs, and he moved slowly up toward her crotch. Sheila kept her legs tightly pressed together, until John french kissed her ear.
Sobbing passionately, Sheila slowly released the pressure of her thighs, allowing John's hand to travel freely up to her cunt. His hand moved gently over her smooth black skin, inching toward her hot box. His thumb found the smooth silk of her panties and he tugged with his expert fingers until the frilly undergarment was pulled down around her thighs.
His finger tips found her huge mound of curly bristle. He plunged them down through the black forest, searching for her moist crack. His fist wrapped around a big bag of balls and a huge black bone. John jumped back in shock, jerking his hand away from the long black cock and nuts. He struggled to pull away from Sheila, but her long arms held him tight. No wonder she has the strength of a man, thought John, she is a man.
Fighting to free himself, John wrestled mightily with Sheila. In a mad scramble of arms and legs, they fell to the floor. John found himself pinned beneath the six foot frame of his doublesexed opponent. Somehow, Sheila had slipped out of the panties she wore. Her slim thighs were wrapped tightly around John's head and the big dong jabbed his face. John felt his trousers being undone and soon his cock was being sucked by Sheila's hungry mouth. He turned his head to the side in an attempt to avoid the black banger that bounced against his nose.
The more he struggled, the more Sheila sucked. It wasn't long before John's wang was hard and hot. Sheila stopped her blow job long enough to tell John he'd better start sucking himself, if he didn't want his prick bitten off. At first John thought it was just a bluff, but when he felt those sharp teeth bearing down on his meat, he took the black bone in his mouth and started sucking.
Sheila pumped her hips up and down, driving the huge black hammer in and out of John's jaws. The round knob was almost bigger than her small tits, but harder than diamond. John had to stretch his mouth open as far as it would go to accommodate the dong. His jaws were aching terribly by the time sperm started to boil over into his throat. He felt the bouncing hips press down with all their might, forcing the joy prong deep into his throat.
Choking and gagging, John felt the pecker throbbing and pounding. A scalding splash of gizzom hit the parched walls of his throat, and John turned blue from his efforts to breath. Sheila relaxed temporarily as her cock shrank back to a soft limp noodle. Recognizing the post-orgasm exhaustion, John knew this was his big chance. His cock was still lodged in her mouth, but she was not in complete control.
Tossing his hips roughly to the side and twisting his own hips, John wiggled free from his strange partner. He took his aching prick in his fist, stroked it twice and blasted Sheila in the face with a blinding shot of jazz that splattered right between his eyes. As he wiped the hot, sticky come from his eyes, Sheila laughed spitefully at John. He pulled up his trousers and glared at the tall Negro. His cackling laughter stung him bitterly, and John lost his terrible temper.
A fist shot out from John's powerful shoulder, and crashed into the laughing teeth of Sheila. Sheila's lips burst into bleeding ribbons and two of his teeth cracked from his gums. The blow knocked Sheila off balance. Shaking his head rapidly, he looked at John and spit in his face.
The bloody gob hit John in the eye and his anger doubled. He charged the bleeding faggot and pelted him again, this time striking him soundly on the jaw. Sheila's head snapped back and he stumbled backwards hitting the coffee table and dropping to the floor. He scrambled to his hands and knees, crawling desperately from the room. Before he got half way across the rug, John was on him again. His foot swung through the air and connected with Sheila's rib cage, rolling him over and cracking two or three ribs.
John's next kick was planted between his thighs and he saw Sheila's face twisted by a silent scream as the cold pain raced through his guts. Reaching down, John ripped Sheila's clothes viciously from his body. John kicked him once more in the groin, and as he lay paralyzed by pain John removed his Spanish leather belt and started whipping his black skin.
Lash after lash cut the transvestite's smooth flesh. The belt snapped at his thighs, tits, belly and even his face. Sheila passed out after several minutes of the savage whipping and John kicked him in the guts, rolling him over on his belly. He proceeded to flail his back and buttocks to ribbons. Sheila was covered with blood and welts when Gus and Minnie finally came from the bedroom.
Minnie screamed when she saw John's hate-crazed face. His eyes were wild and evil, and he smiled a cruel grin each time the belt fell on the helpless body. Gus stood shocked for a moment, but quickly recovered his senses. He rushed to his friend's side and grabbed the belt. John tried to struggle, but he was exhausted from administering such a brutal beating. He surrendered the blood-smeared whip and sat down. Spitting on Sheila's bloody body, John asked Gus to fix him a drink.
"Minnie, why didn't you warn me about that thing?" John asked. He gulped down a good bolt of his drink and pointed to Sheila's form.
"I tried to," Minnie complained. "But I didn't think you'd believe me. You see, in a few months you never would have noticed the difference. Sheila used to be called Charles, if you can believe that. He is having a sex change operation, but he wanted to keep his male organ for a while to see if he really wanted to get rid of it. They've been giving him hormone shots and everything. He lost all his body hair and whiskers. He's a woman in every way, except that he has that thing in his pants."
"She can be pretty strong, too," added John, remembering the forced sixty-nine.
"Minnie, you better do something with him-her. Sheila looks pretty rough. You want to clean Sheila up and get something on her. We can drop her off at a hospital," Gus suggested.
Gus and Minnie carried Sheila into the bathroom and Minnie set to work bathing and applying salve to the endless open wounds. John was just getting his wits about him when Gus came back from the John. He shook his head sadly at John and clicked his tongue.
"Is that the way they treat women out there on the tundra?"
"Can the crap, man. You know she's not really a woman. You'd have done the same thing."
"You're wrong, lad. I would have cut his fucking throat. Jesus, man, you made a mess on my rug. Ruined your nifty imported leather belt, too. Why didn't you just toss the bastard off the terrace?"
"Don't ask me why I didn't do one thing or the other. I flipped out, that's all. I can't even remember taking my belt off to whip him with."
"That's the shits, man. You might have to get out of town in a quick hurry. I wouldn't fear the law so much, but the Brothers are going to be up in arms about this. A white man doesn't dare rough up a black woman these days, even if she does have a cock."
"Look, Gus, I can't leave Chicago until I get what I came for. Can you pick me up enough acid to do up about three thousand people?"
"Whew! That's a big order. I can get you one thousand caps of STP in a hurry. You want it in caps, don't you?"
"No. It's got to be liquid. I can take a smaller dose, if you can get it. You see I only have seven hundred people to cube, but I have to put it in the town water supply and I want to be sure I have enough. I figured a pint would about do it."
"You're out of your fucking brain, John. You been doing too much acid yourself. Seven hundred people! Putting acid in a whole town's water supply is a pretty risky business."
"Gus, I didn't come all this distance for a lecture. Can I score that much acid or not?"
"Yeah, man. I can score you a good quart for two hundred. That ought to keep your local citizens stoned for a week. You got the bread?"
"Yeah," answered John. He handed Gus two hundred dollars. Gus got on the phone located the acid. He arranged to pick it up in an hour. John was just going to the bathroom to check on Minnie and Sheila when Minnie stormed into the room. She ran up to John and slapped him across the face.
"Murderer!" she screamed. "She's dead. You killed her, you white motherfucker!"
Minnie bolted from the room, slamming the door. Gus shook his head slowly. He walked to a drawer and pulled out a pistol. He tossed it to John, along with a box of bullets.
"You might need that, pal. If we can't score that acid and get you out of town before she gets the word spread, you might find out what it feels like to be on the opposite end of the whip."
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The Minute Men
Mimi had been frightened silly when John left for Chicago. She called her best friend, Molly Koerner, and asked her to drive out to keep her company. Molly's husband Lee was out of town for a concert and Molly was glad to oblige. She hated the lonely life of a musician's wife, and Mimi was good company.
The two girls sat around and gossiped for a few hours. Mimi's fears vanished, and she went over to the bar to pick up a bottle of rum. She and Molly mixed up a batch of daiquiries and proceeded to get good and drunk. They drank all day and went through two fifths of booze, a pretty good amount for two women. By nightfall they were feeling like a little mischief. They decided to run into White Cloud and see if they could pick up a couple of fellows.
They were too late. Before they got out of the door, twenty fellows came marching up the steps. It was the Minute Men, led by Wally Polsky. They had decided, like Dick Hienzen, to urge the hippies to get the hell out of Bardell. Only the Minute Men brought their guns with them.
"Get back in there," ordered Wally, poking a pistol in Mimi's face. The twenty men and two women crowded into the small living room of the apartment.
"Where's your husband?"
"He's in St. Paul giving a concert," answered Molly. Mimi was too scared to talk.
"I don't mean you, blondie. Mrs. Partrige, where's your husband?"
"Chi-Chicago. He went to Chicago this morning. I don't know when he'll be back. I expect him to call tomorrow. What did you want?"
"We want your husband, ma'am. We got a little message from the village population. Seems we don't appreciate your highly cultured and sophisticated manners around here. Not that we ain't friendly, but this wife swapping, dope taking shit just doesn't go in Bardell.
"You don't have to act surprised, Mrs. Partrige. Young Corny told his dad all about what goes on up here. You thought you could get away with it, didn't you? Well the cat's out of the bag now."
"Better get them movies they got, Wally," one of the men suggested.
"Good idea. I almost forgot. You better cough up them shows your husband took. I heard all about 'em. Got one of Willie Wienenkughel and one of O'Connor. I think you have some of young Corny and his wife too. Get 'em," he snapped.
Mimi obeyed the order. She was white as a sheet from fright, and Molly was just as scared. They watched silently as Wally poured lighter fluid into the film cannisters and set the three movies on fire. The Minute Men cheered when the flames leaped up, scorching the rug and smoking up the room. When the fires died down, the men were in the mood for a little more excitement. One of them stepped up to Mimi and ran his dirty fingers through her beautiful long hair. Mimi cringed in disgust, she smelled the foul odor of stale beer on the man's breath.
"Such pretty hair, lassy," the man leered. He clenched a fist full of soft hair and jerked strongly. Mimi's head jerked with the man's brutal tug, and big shank of her lovely hair ripped out of her scalp. She sobbed softly, more frightened than hurt. The rest of the men cheered and hollered encouragement.
Molly couldn't stand by and take it without lifting a finger. She was a good-sized, athletic woman, and her legs were agile and powerful. Kicking out with her left leg, Molly landed a foot in the fellow's nuts. He let go of Mimi's hair and doubled over in pain. Molly struck out with her arms, scratching the poor man's face to ribbons. She left him a mess much worse than Willie Wienenkughel.
"Grab that big blond," hollered Wally. "She's killing Pete. I'll get the hippy's wife."
Wally reached out for Mimi and several fellows grabbed the struggling Molly. She managed to drop a few of them with well-placed kicks and she blinded at least two of them with her long, sharp nails. But they were too many. Soon they had her held down and subdued. Wally didn't have such good luck with Mimi.
When Mimi saw Wally coming at her she for got her aching scalp and moved quickly. Ducking under his groping arms, she dashed to the kitchen. While the other fellows were busy with Molly, Mimi was left alone with Wally. He came rushing after her, only to get clobbered in the head by a heavy, eight ounce frying pan. Wally fell flat on his ass on the kitchen floor when the blow struck. He scrambled quickly under the table, just avoiding a second stunning smash. Mimi dropped the pan and ran for the door.
Before she could get out the door, Wally caught up with Mimi. He grabbed her long hair and spun her around, winding up a left hook he planned on smashing into her teeth. He never threw the punch. Mimi had a twelve inch butcher knife in her hand and as she spun around she lashed out with it. The blade pierced Wally's neck on the right side and poked out on the left. He tried to scream, but the steel had severed his vocal chords.
Stumbling desperately back to the living room, Wally tried again to yell for help. He entered the room grunting and squacking loudly. The men saw him come bleeding into the room with a knife stuck through his neck. They forgot all about Molly and rushed to his side. Molly slipped through the window and on to the roof. Racing across the roof to the television antenna, Molly slid down to the ground. She joined Mimi in the parking lot, and they jumped into Molly's car. As they sped off down the road they heard the Minute Men's guns barking behind them.
Two fellows rushed Wally into the White Cloud Hospital, and the rest of the crew followed Mimi and Molly out into the country. It was a clear, moon-lit night, and Molly tried driving with her lights out in an attempt to lose the pursuing mad men. She turned down a dirt road and opened up her compact car. It wasn't the fastest car in the world, but for Molly seventy-five miles per hour was fast enough.
A small path through a plowed field appeared on the left, and Molly spun her car around, almost rolling over. She stepped on the gas again and roared off down the narrow lane. Entering a grove of trees, Molly swerved to the right and brought the car to a halt. She was breathing hard, and when she looked at Mimi she realized that Mimi was in a state of shock.
"I think we lost them," Molly sobbed, "It's all right, Mimi. What's the matter, kid?"
"Did you see what I did?" Mimi muttered through her tears.
"No, I didn't, but whatever it was, it sure worked. They dropped me like a hot potato and ran to the kitchen door."
"I think I killed Wally! I stabbed him with a bread knife. It went right through his neck. I've still got blood on my hands."
Throwing her arms around the weeping Mimi, Molly tried to comfort her friend. Hugging her tight, Molly ran her fingers through Mimi's long hair and patted her gently on the back. Mimi pressed her head against Molly's ample breast, pushing the big tits with her face. Molly felt her nipples hardening as Mimi hugged her bosom.
Straightening up, Mimi took Molly by the shoulders and kissed her passionately on the mouth. Molly trembled with excitement and shot her tongue into Mimi's mouth. She felt her cunt stir and drip pussy juice into her panties. Mimi ran her arms beneath Molly's baggy sweat shirt and undid her bra. Her expert hands grasped Molly's huge jugs and squeezed them tenderly.
"Oh, Mimi," Molly sighed, "You're so gentle. So much more gentle than a man. My husband always hurts them so."
The two girls stripped to the skin and crawled out of the car. Molly spread a blanket on the soft grass and lay down on her back. She trembled with excitement as Mimi climbed on top of her. Mimi took Molly's huge tits in her hands and pressed her mouth to them. Sucking first one nipple and then the other, Mimi drove her well stacked friend wild with her loving. Kissing Molly on the mouth, Mimi pressed her breast against her friends. With their four giant tits rubbing against each other and their two furry twats flush against each other, the girls made love.
Spinning around, Mimi put her head between Molly's legs. After squirting her tongue in and out of Molly's pink vagina, Mimi concentrated on her friend's little clitoris. She took it between her lips and gently teased it with her tongue. The joy juice flowed from Molly's hairy hole and Mimi's nose glistened with it each time she jabbed it up Molly's cunt.
Molly sucked on Mimi's dripping hole like a hungry pup. She tasted Mimi's juices and drank them with pleasure. Her fingers teased Mimi's anus, running a circle around the wrinkled hole. Goosing Mimi with her middle finger, Molly probed the turd tube vigorously. Mimi gave a little fart, and Molly sniffed up the rich aroma.
Changing positions again, Mimi returned to kiss Molly. The girl's sucked tongues, giving each other a taste of their own twats. Their nipples were plastered against each other again, this time much harder than before. Now their clits were so excited they poked out of the girls' nether lips at least an inch. Rubbing their groins together, Mimi and Molly stroked their clits to distraction.
Two streams of gizzom, squirted out of the two cunts as the girls reached orgasm. They ground their hairy mounds together and bounced their boobs with great vigor. Soon a puddle of come as big as a pizza had formed on the blanket. Molly's broad ass was soaked with the sticky fluid. Mimi rolled her over and licked all the gizzom from her round buns, goosing her occasionally with her tongue.
The moon shown brightly on Mimi's white ass as she crouched in the field, sucking on Molly's ass. It made it easy for the Minute Men to spot them. Just as Mimi had lapped up the last of the come, the crowd of armed ruffians converged on them.
There were fifteen of them. And to the man they were shocked speechless by the sight of the two beautiful nudes in such an odd position. It didn't take them long to get over the shock, though. Pete Pikes was the first to move in on them. His nuts still ached from the kick Molly had delivered. His face had stopped bleeding, but he still stung every time he moved his jaw or cheeks. One of his eyes was swollen shut, and he looked almost worse than Lenny Johnson had after John poked out his eye with a cue stick.
The girls saw Pete running at them and started screaming. Scrambling to their feet they ran for the car, but the Minute Men cut them off. Pete grabbed Molly by the tits and flung her to the ground. He reached down and grabbed her cunt hair. As five other fellows held her down, Pete ripped Molly's cunt hairs out of her crotch, a fistful at a time.
Mimi had to watch her friend being tortured. She was held prisoner by two strong armed men. She felt her flesh crawl as Molly's blood-curdling screams pierced the cool night air. When Pete had bared her fuzz patch, he dropped his pants and poked a prick into Molly's nude joy box. He pumped his hips roughly, slamming all his weight against poor Molly. By the time he was done, Molly was sick from the crushing bulk of his body.
One at a time the Minute Men took their pleasure on Molly's lovely body. She started vomiting after the third fat slob squashed her little belly. When the last one had taken his turn, Molly was out cold. Her cunt was rubbed raw, even though the fluids from fifteen ejaculations had kept her good and sloppy.
Watching in horror, Mimi saw Pete approach Molly again. This time he wasn't planning on fucking her. He had a sixteen ounce can of beer in his hand, and he was shaking it vigorously. When the can was just about to explode from the pressure he thrust the chilly container up Molly's box. Mimi heard the flip-top pop and she saw Molly squirm uncontrollably as the cold beer foamed into her feminine organ.
Pete jerked the can roughly from her hole and motioned to the men who were holding Mimi. They picked her up and carried her to the spot where Molly lay groaning in misery. Forcing her face into Molly's crotch, the men yelled for Mimi to drink up. The cold mixture of sperm and beer splashed into her face and Mimi gagged.
Before she had recovered from the sour smell of beer and jazz, Mimi was dragged by the hair to a nearby tree stump. They bound her to the tree and tied her legs down in a spread eagle position. Pete came forward with a sack in his hand. He crouched down beside Mimi and smiled his crooked smile.
"You like a little sexual variety, don't you, Mrs. Partrige?" he snickered. "Well we've got a real treat for you. This ought to be something you haven't tried yet."
He reached into the sack and produced a foot long bullfrog. Mimi screamed at the sight of the sleek green creature and the men laughed loudly. Pete grabbed Mimi's hairy mound roughly and spread her cunt lips. He placed the frog, head first, up her twat. The frightened creature kicked and squirmed inside her vagina, twitching in pain as the toxic juices of her cunt ate away at his tender skin.
"Oh please," Mimi begged, "Please have mercy! Oh God don't do this to me. It's hurting me. Please!!!"
"What's the matter, little lady? Don't you like frogs? I thought this would be a real treat for you. Too damn bad your asshole husband isn't here. He'd probably want to take movies of the scene. Wouldn't you like to see yourself right now, Mrs. Partrige?"
"God, I'm dying. Do something please," Mimi screamed.
"Oh sure, ma'am. I'll do something. You know the best thing for frogs, don't you? I'll take care of that old frog quick as a flash."
He reached into the bag and pulled out something else. Mimi was in such misery she couldn't see too well, but as Pete brought it close to her groin she recognized the slinky shape of a garter snake. Her ankles were bleeding from her struggles to free herself, but when she felt the snake's flashing tongue slap against her twat she made another violent effort.
Her extreme fright gave her extreme strength, and Mimi tore her arms and legs free. Standing up, she grabbed the twisting snake that had worked its way up her twat. Pulling it out she retched when she saw the poor frog's legs sticking out of the snake's mouth. Then she whipped the reptile at Pete, catching him across the scratched eye. Pete hollered and threw up his hands, dropping the rifle he carried.
Mimi's mind was a confused blur, but her excitement had triggered the flow of adrenalin in her body. She moved with great speed and grace, grabbing the dropped rifle and rushing to Molly. She fired several shots at the crowd, and only her unfamiliarity with weapons prevented any deaths. The guys scattered in to the trees and Mimi pulled Molly to her feet. The two women were in the car and speeding into White Cloud before the men knew what had happened.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The Riot
John had called his house several times on his way back from Chicago. He was disturbed that he got no answer. He pulled into White Cloud late in the afternoon and started calling friends in an attempt to locate his wife. After making several calls he tried the Koerner's number. Molly answered.
"Hello, Molly? This is John. Have you seen Mimi?"
"Oh John, I'm so glad you called. You're not in Bardell, are you? Oh God, John where are you calling from?"
"I'm over on the campus, at the student union. I just got into town. I've been calling home since last night, and she doesn't answer. Nobody seems to know where she is."
"She's right here, John. I'll put her on."
"John?" Mimi answered, excitedly, "You wouldn't believe it John. We aren't going back to that town, you hear me? I'm not going back there again and I mean it."
"Hang on, Honey. I'll be right over. I had a rough time in Chicago, too. Just stay where you are, it'll take me about five minutes to get there."
The two young people had their reunion in Molly's living room. Mimi was still too sore in the cunt to fuck, and John was still too shook up about his experience with Sheila to want to fuck. They told each other their frightening adventures. John got worked up into a terrible rage when Mimi and Molly related the torture they had undergone. He stamped around the room, cursing and biting his lips. Mimi calmed him down and convinced him that they should leave the area as soon as possible.
Molly offered to provide the Partriges with a place to stay for a week or two. John thanked her, but insisted that they leave right away. He wanted to rent a truck and pack up all their belongings, but Mimi convinced him that it would be too dangerous to stay in Bardell long enough to load a truck. John decided to wait until the middle of the night and sneak up for as many of their things as he could carry in one load. He was bound and determined to drop the acid in the water supply, too, and he figured he'd take care of it all in one trip.
While he waited for it to get dark, John made up about five hundred caps of acid. By dropping just a tiny amount of the liquid into a capsule full of powder, he got a single pill good for one trip. He could sell them for anywhere from two to five dollars apiece. By buying a huge quantity of the dope, John could make a small profit, have enough to take himself for several months, and still have enough left over to get the whole town of Bardell stoned.
He waited until almost three in the morning before he set out. Mimi could not be convinced to come with him, but she gave him a list of things to rescue from the apartment. They had a huge collection of junk that they'd picked up over the past four years. Luckily all the furniture they owned was used and of little value. John was grateful for the opportunity to get rid of the stuff.
It was three-thirty when he reached the water tower. Parking his car well off the road where it wouldn't be noticed, John walked up the hill and started to climb the high tower. He hadn't realized how high the tower was when he made his plan. By the time he got to the top he was winded and dizzy from the long climb. Circling the tower by way of the cat-walk, John searched for an opening in the tank. The only valve available needed a pipe wrench to open. John cursed again.
Have to climb on top of the tank, he thought. There would have to be a vent of some sort on top of the thing. The wind was cold and strong two hundred feet up there. John shivered from the chill and from fright as he scaled the steel tank. Once on top, it was all he could do to keep from sliding off the round roof. He made it to the center, where he found a complicated, wire mesh vent. It took him a half hour to figure out how to pour the acid in without wasting it. But he got the job done.
By the time John got to his apartment it was almost five o'clock in the morning. The sun would be coming up pretty soon, he thought as he unlocked the door. I'd better get my ass out of here. He rushed around the rooms, gathering up the few things he could fit into the one trunk they would take with them. A few articles of clothing, socks, underwear, toilet articles, his movie camera and projector. Have to take my guitar, he mused, wondering if it would fit in the car with the big trunk.
It was a rough job, wrestling the trunk down the steep steps and into the car. He ran back up for his guitar and took one last look around for anything that might be necessary. A sly grin came over his face and John decided to leave the Bardell's a little calling card. He turned the electric stove on simmer and climbed up on top of it. Dropping his pants, John squeezed a big brown turd out of his asshole. It landed on the burner and started to sizzle from the low heat. John chuckled to himself as he ran down to his car and tossed his guitar in. He had just started up the engine and shifted into first gear when the five carloads of Negroes pulled into the parking lot, surrounding him.
Instinctively, John rolled his window up and locked both doors. He tried to back his way out of the parking lot, but a big purple Buick was sitting right in back of him. Several husky black men came running to the car. John remembered the gun Gus had given him. He pulled it from the glove compartment and fired through the side window at the approaching blacks.
The shot frightened the Negroes for a moment. It also deafened poor John, the concussion was so great in the tiny air-tight Volkswagen. His ears were ringing and his heart was pounding when the black men came out from behind their cars and attacked again. This time John rolled down the shattered window and leaned out. He fired three more times, wounding two of them and missing a third. They scattered again.
Dick Hienzen was just getting up when the first shot went off. When John fired the next three rapid blasts, Dick was standing in his front yard. He could hardly believe his eyes at first. The Minute Men had been warning the village for months that the niggers were going to attack, but Dick had never given it a second thought. Well, he figured, leave it to that hippy. Rushing back to the house, Dick woke up his family.
On their third attack, the blacks heard gunfire again. This time it wasn't just John's pistol, but Dick, Bob and Beaver Hienzen's rifles too. This time two of the blacks were cut down in their tracks and the rest hit the deck. There were twenty-five fellows all together, and they were all prepared for a battle, but the guns and bombs were in the trunks of the cars. One more black lost his life when he attempted to get at the weapons in the trunk of his car.
The Hienzen's kept them pinned down for several minutes before a clever Negro figured out how to obtain the firearms. He crawled into the back seat of the car and tore his way through the seat to the trunk. In a few minutes the rest of the troop got the idea, and all the blacks were armed. They crouched behind the cars and opened up on the Hienzens.
It looked bad for the Hienzens until the Minute Men showed up. John was laying flat on the floor of his car, since the first volley of rifle bullets had struck. He heard the screeching of several sets of tires and the slamming of several car doors. When the Minute Men started firing, the noise was terrific. It sounded like a small war was going on. John reloaded his pistol and peeked up over the seat.
The blacks had completely forgotten about John. He saw them hiding behind their cars, shooting across the street at the Minute Men and Dick. Shit, thought John, if I could just get my car between that Buick and the store. A bullet ricocheted into John's car and he dropped to the floor again. Another shot pierced his front tire and he felt the car sink slowly down.
Well, he cursed silently, I can't drive now. One thing left. He reached into the glove box and fished out a couple more boxes of ammunition. Another slug flew into the car, John heard a loud twanging of strings and he knew his guitar had been hit. He kicked the door open and dropped to the ground. His plan was to make it to the river bank, fifty feet away, and try to swim down stream to White Cloud.
A car full of Minute Men swung around the parking lot and screeched to a halt behind the Blacks. John saw five armed men take aim from behind the car. The river bank was closed off, now. Looking around in a hurry, John wondered which way to go. He spied an opening below the grocery store, where he could crawl in. Scrambling like a rat, John wormed his way under the foundation. He felt the ground shake, as a fire bomb exploded in the car that had blocked John's path to the river.
The battle raged for more than an hour. John kept his head down in the dirt, shivering in fear as the bullets and bombs exploded around him.
Several times he feared that the store woulc catch fire and he'd burn to death, but luckily it didn't happen. Eventually there was a lull in the shooting. John heard voices shouting, and he crawled out enough to take a look. The blacks were standing in the street with a white flag waving and the Minute Men were chattering amongst themselves.
"What's the meaning of this?" asked Pete Pikes, coming forward. "You niggers better do some fast talking."
"We don't want no trouble with you folks," explained the leader. "It's this Partrige fella we're after. He murdered one of our people in Chicago, and we came all the way over here to settle the score. Before we knew what was happenin' some dude from across the way opens up with a rifle."
"Hold on a second. You mean we been fighting you blacks for more than an hour and all you wanted was to get revenge on that miserable Partrige?"
"That's about it, Captain."
Jerry O'Connor came winging up in his squad car. He had lost a lot of prestige in the past few weeks, and he'd almost lost his job. But he hadn't lost his swagger. He strutted from his car to the gathering of black and white battlers, one hand resting on his pistol and the other swinging his long key chain.
"What's going on here? What's happened to these men?" he asked.
"Just a friendly little shoot-out, captain," answered the black.
"No smart talk, boy. I'm chief of police around here. One more crack like that and I'll run your black ass downtown. Pete, what's the scoop?"
"Just like he said, Jerry. A friendly little shootout. These niggers came here gunnin' for young Partrige. We got the call from Dick, here, and got our guns. Course we didn't ask questions. When we arrived on the scene these niggers was already engaged in combat with Dick and his boys. So we joined in."
"Typical. Typical. When the local citizens take the law into their own hands this type of thing is bound to happen," O'Connor lectured. "Did you niggers get Partrige?"
"He got away," explained one of the blacks who was looking into John's car.
"Typical. Typical. Now listen," O'Connor barked, "Let's get this thing straightened out. How many injured men?"
"We lost three brothers," reported Zeke, the black's leader, "And we got four wounded."
"Five killed and six wounded," shouted Pete in a military tone.
O'Connor went to work. He ordered both blacks and whites around as if they were privates and he the general. The wounded were taken into the store for first aid and the bodies of the dead were covered with blankets. Old Elizabeth Bardell and the Lady's Aid scurried around serving coffee and doughnuts. It was a regular picnic, the first and last time blacks and whites ever got along peacefully in the streets of Bardell.
John watched the activities from under the building. He was getting cramped and cold and the smell of hot coffee made him hungry. Hot coffee! The acid! Jesus, John thought, in a few minutes the whole mob will be stoned out of its mind. They'll probably start shooting again, or worse. At least I'll be able to make a break, he figured.
Crawling forward for a better look, John watched and listened for the first signs of the acid going to work. He didn't have to wait long.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Mrs. Bardell was the first one to feel the effects of the drug. She was standing next to Zeke, pouring him another cup of coffee when it hit her. She looked at his sexy black body and felt a stirring of desire that had been asleep for years. Impulsively, she plunged her withered old hand into his pants.
Zeke jumped a foot in the air when he felt her clammy fingers grab his long black snake. He looked around, panic stricken. What was an old dame like this doing with her hand in his pants? And what was he going to do? One false move would start the whole shooting match all over again. Zeke looked at the old hag and tried to smile. A cold sweat beaded up on his shiny black skin.
Before Zeke could think of a solution, the acid from two cups of coffee hit his brain like a sun burst. He closed his eyes and let the flashing colors dance across his mind, while his pecker did a dance of its own. Stimulated by Elizabeth's fingers and the dose of LSD, his big black rod grew stiff and hard. It stood up straight and tall, ripping out of Zeke's pants.
The sight of Zeke's gigantic roll of tar paper frightened poor old Elizabeth. The throbbing penis looked like an electric eel to her, and she felt its shock wave buzzing through her body. Dropping the cock, she ran wildly in a circle screaming about snakes.
Shirley Wienenkughel had been helping pour coffee when it overtook her simple brain. She accepted the effects of the drug like she would a headache, and after taking two aspirins and a glass of water she went back outside. The first thing she saw was Zeke's proud bone. It looked like a big tootsie roll to Shirley, and she strolled over and started licking it.
Her slick pink tongue ran up and down the black dong, driving Zeke to fits of sexual bliss that numbed his body. His big black hands grabbed Shirley's ears and guided her mouth to the tip of his knob. Straining her jaws, Shirley got the hot eight-ball into her mouth. The huge knob filled her mouth completely, and when Zeke started pulling her head back and forth Shirley thought she would choke as the prick slid down her throat.
"Will you look at that," mused Dick Hienzen, "Willie's wife's sucking off a nigger. Damnedest thing I ever seen. By God his gizzom's white too. Look at that, Beaver! Nigger got white jazz."
"Shut up, old man," snapped Beaver. He was busy taking his mother's clothes off.
"What kind of talk is that, boy?" Dick growled.
"I'm busy old man. Go play with yourself."
Dick stared in amazement as his favorite son stripped Connie to the bone, dropped his pants and started fucking in a standing position. Connie just smiled at Dick and moved her lovely hips in time with Beaver's pumping pecker. She hugged her son tight, squeezing her tits against his chest.
So that's how it is," nodded Dick, "You like the youngen's prick better'n the old man's, eh? Well we'll see about that, we will."
He dropped his pants and stepped up behind his wife. His old cock rose proudly to do its duty, and Dick jabbed into her poop shoot. He and Beaver pumped away at Connie's holes, each trying to outdo the other. It was a race and Connie was the judge. She sobbed for joy as the two hot rods bored out her pleasure tubes. Beaver's young prick was bigger and harder than the old man's, but her shit shoot was much tighter than her cunt. It was hard for her to tell which cock gave her the most pleasure.
Connie made up her mind when they came. Dick came quick, as usual. His wad was not as small as it had been the last time he fucked her, but it was still thin and watery and extremely cool. The chilly slime trickled down her turd tube causing Connie to shudder with disgust. She farted in desperation, spraying Dick's belly with his own come.
Then her young step-son came. His prick erupted like a volcano, showering her vagina walls with hot gizzom. Tears came to her eyes as the boiling fluid filled her joy box and splashed into her womb. Connie passed out from pleasure and Beaver wiped the last few drops of hot come from his knob. With a snap of his finger, he flipped a blob of jazz in his dad's astonished face.
Jerry O'Connor came strolling by, completely in the nude. His night stick protruded from his rectum and three doughnuts were perched on his dick. He held a fourth doughnut at the tip of his pecker and squirted a little jazz on it. This he offered to Pete Pikes:
"Have a glazed doughnut, Pete? They're good, and good for you."
"Hey, Jerry. I seen your wife sucking off a nigger," laughed Pete. "So did Wienenkughel's old lady. You know what, Jerry? Niggers got white come."
"You know what, white man?" interrupted a little black fellow, "Your mouth is the right size for my prick."
The black waved his pecker at Jerry and Pete. The cop got down on his hands and knees and took the black wand in his mouth. His head bobbed back and forth and the night stick bounced up and down in his asshole. Pete grabbed the stick and pulled it out. He produced his cock and spit on his palm. Slicking down his wang with spit, Pete mounted up on the cop's big buttocks. He filled Jerry's shitter with penis and started pumping.
Jerry rocked on all fours, getting the motion from Pete's steady pumping rhythm. His mouth slid over the black man's meat and his lips smacked with pleasure. He sucked the black dong like it was his mother's tit, working the long spear all the way down his gullet.
When the black came his big wang pounded and throbbed wildly. It slipped out of Jerry's mouth and sprayed gob after gob into Jerry's face. The cop struggled to get it back into his mouth, but the cock was shaking and jerking too fast for him. Gizzom was running down his cheeks and his chin by the time the ejaculation ran dry. Jerry's tongue lashed out in an effort to get some of the come, but all he got was one tiny taste.
Twisting around, Jerry pulled his anus away from Pete's meat. He scrambled over and took Pete's dong in his lips. His tongue cleaned off the brown drippings from his rectum and then he sucked the spear deep into his throat. He could feel the sperm starting to rise up in Pete's tubes and Jerry moved back to concentrate on the swollen knob. His tongue teased Pete's piss-hole and tasted the first hot drops of jazz that squirted out. Jerry sucked a big mouthful of gizzom and swallowed greedily.
The cop picked up his night stick, sucked off some of the shit, and poked it back in his bung hole. He strolled off happily, stroking up some more gizzom for his doughnuts.
One by one and in groups, the townspeople came to the parking lot to join the activities. Willie Wienenkughel wandered over looking for his wife. He found her going sixty-nine with Mrs. Bardell. Before he got over the shock he saw Corny come running from the store with his cock in one hand and a meat cleaver in the other. The old man ran to John's car and tossed his prick on the hood. With a mighty scream, he brought the cleaver down and chopped off his cock.
Willie went running to the mayor to see if he could help stop the bleeding. When he got there the prick turned out to be the neck of a turkey Corny had just butchered. Willie sighed in relief and turned back to his wife. Judy Puhl took him by surprise.
Stripping Willie of his pants, Judy took a spoon and started cramming Willie's bung hole with peanut butter. She laughed like a loon and worked the greasy brown stuff up into his shit shoot. Willie finally freed himself and left Judy rolling on the ground, caught in a fit of laughter.
Old Duke had Nancy Jagger and Rosie Benito, two girls from the DeZurkee steno pool, flattened out in the middle of the lot. He was proving once and for all that he could fuck two girls at one time. His huge nose was sliding in and out of Nancy's twat, while his battered old cock split Rosie's tight young cunt. The crowd cheered the old man on, and Rosie and Nancy just sobbed for joy. Whether by nose or by pecker, old Duke knew how to treat a clitoris.
Everything went fine for the Duke until Nancy came. Her ovaries shot a batch of yum-yum juice that cascaded out of her orifice like Niagara Falls. The gizzom splashed up old Duke's giant nostrils and he snorted and sneezed. His big snout wrinkled up and let out with a blast like a doublebarreled shot gun. Nancy's come sprayed the crowd and Duke's cock popped out of Rosie's twat. He sneezed so hard that he pulled a muscle in his groin and couldn't finish fucking Rosie. It was a bitter defeat for the old boy.
Almost all of Bardell's seven hundred, thirty odd residents showed up eventually. And eventually almost all of them got naked and got fucked, sucked or both. John decided it was time to make his break. He crawled out from underneath the building and split for the river bank. He just about had it made when O'Connor spotted him.
"Hey! Halt, there! You! Partrige! Come back, you lop-eared little bastard. Look everybody! It's that fucking hippy bastard commie murderer asshole punk kid. Don't let him get away!"
Some of the Negroes and Minute Men grabbed their guns and started firing. A bullet caught John in the shoulder and knocked him off his feet. He crawled forward quickly and slid down the bank on his belly. The Mississippi was at its springtime high, and John didn't know if he could stay alive in the swirling water. But when another round of slugs peppered around him, he jumped in.
His shoulder was killing him, but the water carried him swiftly away from the screaming crowd. Struggling to keep his head above water, John floated down-stream. After he'd gone a half mile he realized that he'd drown eventually. He couldn't keep going at the rate he was losing blood, and he was swallowing a lot of muddy water. It would have been better if he could have made it to the east shore, but he was only sixty feet or less from the west bank and it was a good hundred yards across the other way.
Dragging his bleeding arm, John made it for shore doing the side stroke. It was only a short distance, but the speed of the current moved him at least another quarter mile downstream before he got close enough to shore to touch bottom. He was only ten feet from land now, but his strength was fading. John tried to put his feet down and wade in, but the swift water pulled him off his balance and swept him out another several yards.
He submerged for a long time, swallowing a good lungful of the murky water. His head bobbed up and he gasped desperately for air before going down again. The river took him ten yards farther downstream before he got his next breath. By now he had given up hope of surviving.
John went down for the third time and closed his eyes. He was about to breath in a breath of water and end it all when he felt a gaff hook catch his shirt collar. His head was pulled above water again and John gasped gratefully for air. He looked up at the owner of the strong arms that pulled him into the boat. It was Dick Hienzen.
"I got him!" Dick shouted to the waiting throng on the bank. "And he's still alive." John heard the wild cheering from the mob and wished he was dead.
The mob chased John back to the parking lot, throwing stones and garbage at him all the way. Back in Bardell they stripped him and tied him to a light pole. His arm was still bleeding badly and John prayed to the goddess of the prick that he would pass out and die before they started doing what ever it was they were going to do.
The trouble was they didn't know what to do with him. To make the problem worse, the blacks insisted they had rights to him and wanted to take him back to Chicago. While all the arguing was going on the spectators felt free to step up to John and pull his prick or squeeze his balls. Beaver Hienzen brought over a two-week old pup and let it suck and chew on John's pecker. Judy Puhl gave him the peanut butter treatment.
Before they had decided on a satisfactory method of torture, Mrs. Bardell took care of the situation. She came running out of the store with a meat grinder. No one had time to stop her before she got John's cock and balls in the hopper and turned the crank. In a second John's organs were reduced to a bloody pulp.
Screams of terror and disgust shrieked from the crowd. Elizabeth waved her blood stained hands and smiled. The gory sight sent Zeke on a freak-out. He grabbed his shot gun and blasted Elizabeth. The shot started the mob fighting again. Bombs burst and rifles cracked. It wasn't just black against white, it was every man for himself.
O'Connor was the first to go. Several crazed citizens charged him and fired his pistol into his beloved rectum. Judy Puhl attacked Willie and bit his hammer off. Before he died he managed to cut off both of Judy's tits with a broken peanut butter jar.
The state patrol arrived on the scene a little too late to do much good. One of the blacks tossed a fire bomb that set off a chain of explosions. One by one the twelve or more cars in the lot blew up spraying flames from their exploding gas tanks.
It was impossible to identify all the bodies. Mimi Partrige didn't even volunteer to go look for her husband. She sold the five hundred caps of acid to a local pusher for five hundred dollars and got on a plane to California. The last any body heard of her, she was working as an artist's model and living with the hippies.
Dick Hienzen survived the battle. So did his wife and sons. At night he often had dreams that woke him from a sound sleep to find his wife gone from his side. He'd lay quietly in bed until he heard Connie tiptoe in from Beaver's bedroom. He never figured out where the nightmare left off and reality began.