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Twin Pines	By : MichaelATownshed Category: +G through L > Gravity Falls Views: 37004 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Gravity Falls or Twin Peaks, nor am I making any money off this story. Christ who would even pay for this?

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
Chapter 6
I Know Who You Did Last Summer

Summer of Last Year

Ridiculously overpriced souvenirs, fake monsters, and questionable homemade make-up appliances, all this and more could be found at the Mystery Shack, a tourist trap set up to leverage Gravity Fall’s weirdness for profit.
Wendy and Tambry stood in front of the Mystery Shack in disbelief. ‘We’re closed. Amscray’. That’s what the rude little sign on the door had written on it. “Son of a bitch,” said Wendy.
Tambry shrugged. “And this was a colossal waste of time,” she said apathetically, but with a hint of disappointment in her voice. Her fingers were busy texting away on her phone. “Status Update: Stuck in woods with would-be rapist.”
“Hey!” cried Wendy.
Tambry turned her back to the shack; her gaze was directed at her phone. “You’re the one with the rape stares. Rape staring my butt, rape staring my boobs, I’m surprised you haven’t taken out your mythical 10 inch cock and covered me in your mental jizz yet.”
Bizarre metaphors aside, Wendy couldn’t quite deny that she had been a little too focused on Tambry during their stroll to the Mystery Shack. She had kept catching glimpses of Tambry’s hair shimmering in the mid-day sunlight, seemingly brightening Tambry’s usually dour disposition. Her pink highlights bounced with each step she took. And yes, the redhead’s eyes had veered from time to time towards Tambry’s bosom. Along the way to the Mystery Shack the purple haired girl had taken her long sleeve shirt off and tied it around her waist, leaving her chest covered with a tight, sleeveless pink v-neck. She could make out the bra's outline. A knee-length purple skirt and torn leggings made her outfit all the more alluring to a love struck teen nursing a wounded heart.
Wendy punched Tambry’s arm ever so gently. “I dunno, I think I’d much rather seduce you. You know, lore you into my awaiting arms all uhm- seductive-like. Or I could just use this to whip you into submission!” Wendy took the riding crop from Tambry's handbag. Why her friend thought old man Pines would trade weed for a riding crop she didn't know, but, that's why that ended up coming along.
Tambry took the crop back and slipped it back into her handbag. Most of it poked out of the bag. She rolled her eyes, and yet her lips curved into a tiny smile for a brief moment. “So what now, fearless leader?”
Winking, Wendy pulled out a couple bobby pins hidden within her hair.
The darker girl arched an eyebrow. “Breaking and Entering? Why?”
Wendy knelt down by the door's lock. “Because we’re teenagers,” she said, as she went to work.
Tambry put the phone away and acted as a look out. This wasn't their first act of random vandalism after all; it surely wouldn't be their last. “Status Update: Committing felonies with would-be rapist.”
“You bet your butt you are,” said the redhead, giving the shorter girl’s pert butt a quick smack.
“Don’t do that,” Tambry said meekly, her darker complexion hiding her blushing face.
It didn’t take long for Wendy to pick the rickety lock. Once inside, the two looked around. It was the typical tourist-trap nonsense they’d come to expect from the place: Llamaboys, Merdogs, Chimeracatfish, something that looked like a bunch of mold stapled to a busted mannequin, what was clearly a set of keys but with a pair of googly eyes glued on the key ring, etc. There was nothing out of the ordinary, except for the weird fact that the store had closed so early on such a nice, summer day.
Past the chained up Wolf-canoe(why?) and the chicken that was also part pineapple, Wendy felt more and more confident that someone around here was getting inspiration from some very powerful, and illegal, muses.
“Hey!” someone yelled from behind the girls. Startled, they both quickly turned around to see the owner, Stanford Pines, angrily leering at them. The man had walked into the shack from one of the other entrances, the one that led into the living room part of the novelty shop/home. He was wearing his usual Mr. Mystery suit, though he had taken the eye-patch and fez hat off. “You two, the store’s closed, get outta here. I could’ve sworn I locked that door too.”
Wendy and Tambry exchanged nervous glances. “Hello Mr. Pines,” started Wendy, “we were uhm, looking for Soos, is he working today?”
Stanford had a reputation for being cranky and cantankerous, especially around teenagers. That he suddenly and unexpectedly burst out into laughter surprised them both. Both girls noticed a very distinct and familiar odor drifting into the shop from the living room. Stan suppressed his laughing fit, if only just barely. “Excuse me, that was the laughter of anger, angry laughing, cause you're illegally on my property and that makes me laugh… with anger.”
Both girls continued to gawk at him.
“Anyway, Soos isn’t here, so come back when the shop's open. And when you do, buy some stuff for Christ’s sake. I got a buy 15 get 1 free promotion on my all natural, home-made lip balm. It’s technically nonlethal, just don't expect a refund if you happen to suddenly die due to completely unrelated circumstances. Now, get out.”
The conversation was over, at least as far as he was concerned. However, Wendy wasn’t ready to give up just yet. She darted through Stan's living room door, easily evading the stoned man's slowed reflexes. She gasped at what she saw: on the living room coffee table were bundles of rolled up joints, some cut up mushrooms, a bottle of whiskey, and a 6-pack of beer. One of the joints was already lit. The pungent stench of burning marijuana lingered heavily in the air.
“Whoa, look at all this weed!” cried out Tambry as she followed Wendy.
The old man got in front of both girls with arms outstretched as he tried to conceal his contraband. “These are uhhh, ummm, herbal cigarettes! Definitely nothing illegal here! Now get out before I exercise my constitutionally given right to shoot the black girl.”
“Wait a minute, I am not black!” she said, both a little offended and very concerned, “also, please don't shoot me.”
“Whoa, whoa, let's keep the guns holstered,” said Wendy, slowly moving a scared Tambry behind herself, “there’s no reason why we can’t all get what we’re here for. I think it’s obvious where you got that weed from.”
The old man grunted. “If that’s what you’re looking for, then forget it. Soos told me he’s done dealing. He gave me the last of his stash because he told me it would help out with my every goddamn ache in my body, which to his credit it actually has. And it's done great things for my memory. I forgot what we're talking about, what are we doing again?”
“We want some of that weed dude, we’re negotiating.”
“You got money?”
“We got a ring,” piped in Tambry from behind Wendy. “And a riding crop for horses! It came from rich people. The ring is haunted!”
Stan rolled his eyes. “I’m not a pawn shop. I’m done negotiating kids, scram.”
Tambry's soft hands pressed on Wendy's shoulders; it felt so good to feel her trembling touch. A plan was forming. “Come on, there’s gotta be something we can give you.” Stepping closer to the old man, Wendy lowered her gaze and bit her lip. She swayed her hips just slightly, running a finger down her button-up shirt. “There’s… gotta be something you’d be willing to trade for…”
Even stoned he could still get what the redhead was alluding to, and normally there was no way he’d stoop to something like that. But his current love life wasn’t exactly sizzling, and in his half buzzed, half high state, he couldn’t help but notice that his inhibitions had lowered a lot. But for God’s sakes, they’re kids. “I know your dad. Yeah, I know exactly who you are, Wendy Corduroy. I’ve seen you in town for years, since you were a baby. I could be your grandfather. The same goes for you too, dark-skinned girl. Or half grandfather, or something, I dunno.”
The girl peeked her head out from behind Wendy. “Please don’t shoot me.”
“Relax kid, I’m not going to shoot anyone, mostly because I have no idea where I put my guns. 20 guns and I have no clue where in the house I stashed them.”
Slowly, Wendy let her button-up drop to the floor, exposing her tank top fully. She bent over to retrieve her shirt, letting the old man get a good look at her cleavage. “Come Mr. Pines, don’t you want to punish us for being naughty girls? When’s the last time you had a mouthful of something this fresh?”
“… call me Stan.”
“Anything you say boss.”
She was just about to pull off her top when Tambry tightened her grip around her. “Wendy, what do you think you’re doing?”
“Hello, I’m scoring us some weed.”
“But, we agreed never to do it that way! And he’s like a gajillion years old!”
“More like 80,” she replied.
“Actually I’m pushing 70.”
“That’s not any better!” exclaimed Tambry to the both of them.
She shrugged. “It’s not like he’ll ever tell anyone, unless he wants to go to jail and spend the last 2 years of his life getting anally pounded till his hips break by some burly dude named Bubbah. Look, if you aren’t up to it you don’t have to do anything. You got your boyfriend, after all.”
Tambry clenched her fingers around Wendy's shoulders. “But I thought you were a penis virgin.”
Wendy shrugged as she peeled Tambry's fingers off her shoulders. Removing the top, she exposed her bra to both Tambry and Stan. She turned her back on her friend.
“Tambry’s a little shy, so she’ll just be watching, kay Stanford?”
“Hey, that’s one less count of statutory rape I have to worry about,” he said while removing his suit jacket, “and please, just call me Stan.”
Stan sat down on his recliner. Wendy, smiling, sat herself down on his left thigh. Pulling out a cigarette and lighting it, she gave it a deep, slow puff. She offered him the cig, and the visibly apprehensive man took it.
“Calm down Stan, we’re all going to be doing some pretty illegal things for the next few hours.”
Tambry stamped her foot on the floor. “I know what you’re trying to do, and it's totally not going to work, you- you bitch! I can't believe you, I thought you were more mature than this!” With a huff she sat down on a nearby chair and buried her face in her phone. “Urngh!!!”
Wendy, ignoring Tambry, took Stan’s hand and placed it on one of her breasts. He immediately squeezed her modest mound, and then pulled the bra cup down, exposing one of her nipples. She giggled, nervously. Her stomach turned. “So… what do you want to do first… Stan?” Holy shit this is a mistake. It occurred to her that maybe banging a gross old man for weed was a terrible idea after all. She was on the verge of springing off Stan’s lap and running away when a pair of soft, feminine hands roughly grabbed her by the hair and pulled. Her yelp was instantly silenced by Tambry’s lips and a kiss that was rough and forceful and yet sweet. In a daze Wendy slid off the old man’s thigh and landed with Tambry's writhing body on top of her. They didn't part lips for what felt like forever.
When they stopped kissing Tambry glared into Wendy's dazed expression. “Is that what you wanted?” Tambry asked, rather spitefully.
“I-”
“Shut up,” she hissed, “I don’t want to lose you, but I can’t be friends with you if you’re going to keep acting this way. So here’s how this is going to work: we’re getting that weed, we’re making love one last time, and then you will back off from this whole puppy-love sick thing, understand?”
Speechless, Wendy nodded in agreement.
The old man looked on in bewilderment. “I’m sensing a lot of unresolved tension here. Maybe you girls can come back when-”
Grabbing his tie, Tambry pulled him toward her lips and gave him a kiss the likes of which he hadn’t had in decades. Decades upon decades. Her tongue swatted at his, and he didn’t even think to kiss her back until she had already pulled away. “After this we’re talking all your weed, and the shrooms, deal?”
“Wait what? No, the mushrooms are mi-”
“Dude,” Tambry interrupted, “you’re getting a threesome with two 14 year olds. We’re taking the shrooms, deal with it.”
Stan sighed. “Kids these days, no respect for anybody, I swear.”
“You yelled at me,” whined Wendy, who, now sitting up, pouted at the purple-haired girl.
Tambry pressed her forehead against her friend's. “Think of it this way, you’re the only one that ever gets me worked up like that. Now let's kiss and make-up.” She moved herself lower and kissed the redhead's exposed nipple.
So this is what I have to do to be with her, Wendy thought to herself, love is a bitch. Enjoying Tambry’s tongue around her nipple, she wrapped her arms around the girl and giggled. Totally worth it.
Through it all Stan watched, dumbfounded but obviously anxious for some action; the stiffness poking from his pants made that abundantly clear. Smiling seductively, and more than a little aroused by Tambry’s suckling, Wendy curled her finger at the old pervert, beckoning him to come close. He obediently complied, moving from the recliner and onto the floor, and leaned in to fill her mouth with his tongue the moment their lips made contact. The smell of old people and vapor rub assaulted her nose immediately. His skin was all weirdly papery, and his nine-o’clock shadow scraped at her skin. Man this sucks, but at least you’re not a terrible kisser. She kept her eyes shut tight and pretended someone else, anyone else, was locking lips with her.
Tambry's slender fingers were working on unbuttoning Wendy's jeans, and when she managed that, Wendy felt those slight fingertips press against her panties. It was perfect, like it was supposed to be, two girls passionately in love and eager to explore each other in ways only lovers could. Only this time with a senior citizen in the room, which killed the mood a little. Speaking of the old man, Wendy decided to do him a favor and free Mr. Mystery’s magic cane from its fabric prison. She wondered what would happen next as she undid his pants and zipped the zipper down. Would she really take an ancient cock up her virgin lips?
Stan held the back of Wendy’s neck as he made out with her. He was rock hard and ready to end the longest dry spell of his existence. His pants unzipped and his cock taken out of his boxers by Wendy’s soft hands and yet rough grip, he was already covering her fingers with his pre-cum. She squeezed his cock; he groaned in a way he hadn’t in a long time.
Wendy, stroking Mr. Mystery’s shaft, was impressed by his girth and hardness, and surprised a man his age still had a working dick, let alone a decently sized one.
"So, do you want to fuck the black one now?” teased Tambry, taking out her phone. “Or do you prefer the lily white one with the blinding white butt, you perverted racist?”
“Hey,” said Stan, while groping Wendy's ass, “I never said I hated anyone, just that I’d shoot the minority first. I don't get it, how's that racist?”
She rolled her eyes at the comment, and perceiving the old man as hopeless, instead took a couple pictures of Wendy’s tits, which Wendy posed for with bust perked forward and a finger pressed against her puckered lips. Tambry undid the redhead's bra clasp and tossed the garment away. She took a few of her naked chest, and then one of her suckling on Wendy’s left tit. Wendy stuck out her tongue for the camera.
“Are you really take pictures of this?” asked Stan.
The girl shrugged, her cheek comfortably placed between Wendy's breasts. The redhead hugged her friend, pressing her tighter against her pert bosom. “So?” asked Tambry, “I do this every time, big deal. Oh, well, I’ll crop you out if your dick ends up in a couple. I mean, you don't want to get in trouble, do you, Mr. Pines?” With a single hand against his chest she made him lie down on the floor.
The two girls looked down at him. Both girls were touching and stroking his penis, though neither quite seemed to do much else. They looked at each other and kissed nervously. “So, what now?” whispered Wendy.
“What do you mean? I thought you were gonna bang him,” Tambry whispered back.
“Yeah but, I dunno, how?”
Tambry was dumbstruck. “The penis goes in the vagina sweety.”
Wendy backed-up a little and leered at her friend. “No shit hon.”
The sight of two topless girls hopelessly entangled in a situation neither knew how to handle, while handling his cock, along with the large dose of weed smoke hovering around them made Stan break out into another laughing fit. The old man wrapped his arms around his stomach and bellowed uncontrollably. The two girls looked back down at him in confusion, then annoyance.
“We're shitty prostitutes,” said Wendy.
Tambry took a pic of the laughing man. “Yes we are,” she replied.
Suddenly Stan's burly, hairy hands reached up to grab one of the purple-haired girl's arms and pulled her face down onto the carpeted floor. Wendy only watched on as Stan pulled down Tambry's torn leggings and panties, kissed one of her ass cheeks, and stuffed his face into Tambry’s ass-crack. He licked her rear hole, much to Tambry's shock and arousal. “I guess that makes you a butt man, Mr. Pines,” she quipped, giggling. “Wendy, save me from the man licking my butthole.”
Watching Tambry naked and lying face down, with the old man lapping at her asshole made Wendy incredibly horny. She couldn't help but start rubbing her wet cunt. “Oh wow...”
“Hey, I know my away around a woman,” said Stan, giving her rear hole one more lick before biting her butt. She uttered something between a squeal and a moan, her fists were clenching carpet while she wriggled her butt. “And I bet I know what you like.” Without another word he wrapped an arm around her waist, got her up on all fours, and smacked her ass hard. She squealed even louder.
Meanwhile, Wendy picked up one of the joints and lit it. She kept masturbating as she watched Tambry's ass taking a beating. Oh my God, what a great day. The memories of the morning’s weirdness were already beginning to fade away.
Tambry did enjoy a good spanking, as Wendy had come to know through firsthand experience. Then again, so did Wendy, and the two loved taking turns on one another, spanking each other till their asses were beet red, sometimes finding ways to piss each other off just to justify it, and other times just because they felt like it. As Stan kept spanking her friend's tanned rear end, Wendy's desire to get in on the action only grew. If this had to be the last time she'd get to play with Tambry in that way, then she was going to milk it for all the pleasure possible.
Stroking the brown girl's pussy, Stan found out just how wet she really was. He penetrated her sex with a couple of his thick fingers, and the girl, shuddering, clenched herself around those manly digits. It was surprising just how easy she was. In my day, he thought to himself as his mind wandered from the task of spanking the teen girl underneath him, women had more class. They-
The smack of a riding crop across Tambry's ass woke Stan up from his pondering. Tambry cried out in raw agony and joy. “Fuck!”
“You like that babe?” asked Wendy, who had taken the riding crop from Tambry's handbag and was now using it to turn Tambry's ass purple. Another crack of the whip against her butt almost made her scream.
“Hey Stanny, she's totally into some kinky stuff, wanna give it a try? Punish her, she's been bad.” Taking the whip from Wendy, he smacked it hard across Tambry’s rear. She rocked her body away from the strike of the crop, then arched her rear upwards for the whip to better strike.
The redhead had three blunts in her mouth, one of which she plucked from her lips and put into Stan's mouth, which he gladly accepted. The girl grinded her naked fleshed against his chest, her inhibitions and nervousness already lessened, and her mind clouded by weed and sex. She fingered herself whilst spanking Tambry's ass in between cracks of the crop. She was going to make sure she felt pain unendingly; she would make her suffer till she couldn't handle it anymore. She wanted to break her, to make her feel pain and agony the way she had made her feel it. Break up with me will you? she said to herself, her jealousy not yet dulled by the drugs in her lungs, choose some nobody guy from school over me? No, I'm not the bitch, you're the bitch!
“Ok ok stop!” Tambry cried, sounding as if on the verge of tears. Stan did, though Wendy had no intention of doing so. She tried to snatch the crop away from Stan only to somehow miss his hand and fall forward. She landed on her hands and knees, right beside her friend.
Wendy burst out laughing. Tambry thought it was just the weed affecting her mind, but nevertheless gave Wendy a mild punch to the shoulder. “You jerk.”
The redhead was about to get up when Stan instead mounted her and held her in place. His cock pumped against her vagina's slit, though it didn't go inside her. She gasped when he smacked her ass with the crop.
“Oh, is it my turn now?” asked Wendy.
Tambry picked one of the joints from Wendy's mouth and took a puff. “Yep.” She squealed when Stan smacked her cunt.
“It's both your turns,” said Stan, angling the crop to crack across both sets of perky asses, “neither one of you are getting out of here without raw hides, I'll tell you that much. You know, in my day, we used to do this as punishment for badly behaved kids. Our parents would smack our little tushes till we went straight, and we appreciated it! Kids these days don't know how good they have it, what with their time outs and participation trophies, and cellular telephones and Internet tubes and the self-driving cars, and don’t even get me started on the-”
“Oh here we go,” said a sarcastic Wendy. Tambry giggled. They both yelped when Stan punished both their asses with a particularly strong whack of the crop. Tambry's ass was already as red as could be, so he decided to focus on whipping Wendy's. His cock however, was ready to move on from the whole foreplay thing.
The purple-haired girl froze as she felt something prod against her ass. She grunted when his length entered her, gritted her teeth when his length was thrust quickly into her. “Ow,” she pleaded, “Wen-Wen ow.”
“Hey take it easy on her,” said Wendy, “she hasn't had a lot of experience.”
With a sigh he slowed his thrusts. “So do I need to take it easy on you too when I get a shot at your girly bits?”
Wendy thought about it for a moment. “Nope. Go ahead and make me sore. I'm a bad girl, I can take it.”
So he did, with her ass at least, striking her rear till it was raw and redder than the freckles already dotting her flesh. Wendy played with her pussy while she listened to the sounds of Tambry being fucked doggy-style right next to her. Her moans were gorgeous, the smacking of her rear against his thighs drove Wendy to pound her fingers even harder into her sex. Another crack of the riding crop against her ass accidentally struck her fingers. It hurt so bad, it felt so good. She came with an unrestrained cry, and then collapsed on the floor.
Tambry moaned while the man rode her from behind. Stan, his arm tired from doing all that whipping, dropped the crop and instead held onto her thighs and drove himself forward as she arched backwards into his dick.
She was enjoying it, her body was tense with the pleasure of being slowly fucked by the older man. It made Wendy envious. Man, the things I'd do with her if I did have a 10 inch penis.
She lurched forward and kissed Tambry's neck. She cooed softly.
“My butt hurts” she whispered into Tambry's ear.
“My butt hurts too,” she whispered back. “Wen-Wen,” she asked, as the used up joint dropped from her lips, “where's my phone?”
Both girls couldn't help but laugh.
At some point Wendy found herself under Tambry, suckling her clit and pussy while Stan's penis slid in and out of it. The dark-skinned girl was laying on top of her, with her mouth eagerly sucking on Wendy's clit. Tambry's pussy tasted so sweet, though the saltiness of Stan's pre-cum gave it a new flavor that she didn't mind swallowing down. It hadn't been their first 69, though they hadn't ever had a man in the mix before. It made eating pussy a little awkward, what with his penis and balls getting in the way and rubbing up against her face each time she licked her cunt. She pulled out Stan's cock from Tambry's loins, sucked on her pussy, suckled on her clit, and gave his veiny shaft a few licks before sliding his length back into Tambry's cunt.
She knew her friend was close to orgasm, her body trembled like she was going to. Wendy flicked her tongue at her clit as fast as she could, and Tambry, through muffled groans, did the same.
Both girls moaned as they came. They were climaxing when Stan burst his load inside Tambry. Wendy watched the old man's cock contract with each gush of semen that filled up her friend's pussy. When he pulled out, she tried drinking his cum, and then decided she'd rather not, as the stuff tasted pretty bitter.
Tambry rolled her sweaty body off of Wendy's also very sweaty body.
“Oh fuck, this was great, you have no idea how much I needed that,” said Tambry.
“I love you too,” said Wendy.
The other girl blushed. “So what now?” she asked, covering her breasts with one hand.
An exhausted Stan opened up a can of beer. “I got booze and mind-altering substances. All in favor of both say aye!”
“Aye!” both girls yelled.
* * *
Present Night

“Dipper, we said no peeking!” cried out the twin Mabels.
He couldn't though, the blindfold made sure of that. The pre-Honey Moon Honey Moon had turned out to be Mabel and Dipper's most romantic moment of their short lives. Mabel had surrendered herself to her future husband without a second thought, and he had taken her and enjoyed her however he wished. Lebam had watched their lovemaking, which was kinda weird.
If they had stopped there and gone to sleep, it would've been the most perfect night ever. Only they didn't stop, Lebam and Mabel made sure of that. So now he was blindfolded, seated in a chair in the middle of their room, listening to the never ending rain, with two girls giggling and whispering to each other.
“Ok, you can take the blindfold off, my little hubby,” they both said in a sing-song fashion. Doing so, he was greeted by the wondrous site of two cute asses pointed in his direction, with both girls bent over the side of the bed and giggling as they heard him gasp. “What’s wrong Dipper, cat got your tongue?”
“Again?” said the girl to his right.
“We decided,” said the other girl, “that since you can’t tell who is who from our faces-“
“- maybe you’ll have better luck by looking at our butts!”
So you two still want to play that game, huh? Not that he was against it, not at all. He stood up from the chair and gave their bottoms a good inspecting. Like everything else about them their butts were exactly the same. They even wiggled the same way. He gave each butt cheek a smack, squeezed their flesh. He knelt down and licked an asshole, though truthfully not for any reason other then because he wanted to. He licked the other girl’s asshole too. Their pussies tasted better, he decided. His erect member throbbed and coursed with burning hot blood; he was ready to fuck them again. The girl who's hole he was licking softly moaned, and he felt her rear hole contract against his tongue.
“Oh babe you know how to make a sister feel appreciated,” she grunted.
“It's a good thing I'm marrying him,” both girls said in unison.
The boy bit down on the girl's ass. She yelled at the sting of his teeth gnawing on her fleshy cheek. “Oh my gosh oh yes!” she cried.
He bit the other girl's ass too, her squeal just as lovely as the other Mabel. He gave her asshole a couple more licks, lubing it up for his cock. He still didn't know which one was Mabel or Lebam, and he didn't care either, but he had known what it was like to be in their other holes, and now he wanted this one too. He rubbed her back entrance with the throbbing head of his penis, prodding at her hole with it. She tensed up, her fingers clawing into the pillow she laid herself on. “Big D,” she whimpered, “be gentle back there?”
He stroked her butt cheeks. “Beg your master to be gentle with you.”
She trembled under him. “Oh Master, please be gentle on your slave.”
He liked what he was hearing. Slowly he arched his pelvis forward, spreading the girl's anus open. She whined and shuddered as he slowly pierced her rectum. The saliva helped to ease him in.
The other girl looked on with envy. “Aren't you just Mr. Impulsive? Gosh, it's like looking at yourself in a mirror. Six inches of Big Dipper all the way up the poop-shoot, woowww...” She began rubbing herself as she watched Dipper make love.
“Is that what we’re calling it?” asked the wincing girl being anally penetrated, “cause I thought we agreed on Dicker.”
Dipper looked at the girl fingering herself. “You were planning on calling my dick 'Dicker'?”
Lebam and Mabel smiled their shiny braced smiles. “A rose in the ass by any other name would smell just as tight.”
He had no idea what that was supposed to mean or how to reply to that. Instead he grunted as he advanced his cock further up her rectum. She moaned in agony, her voice wavering and shaking. The twin Mabels smelled of pussy and cum, and so did he, he noted. They would have to take a good long shower to get such a heavy musk off their bodies. The thought of the two Mabels and himself, naked, dripping wet with hot, steamy water pouring down their bodies, and of him taking them both, ravaging one and then the other in the shower, it drove him wild with lust. Surely there was a way to marry both of them. Mormons do that right? Would that really be so bad?
Slowly he slipped his full length into her. She was so tight back there; it was like she was snapping shut her rectum around his member. Gradually he pulled back, the girl whining as he reversed and pumped his cock back up her anal canal. She arched her back, raised her butt up for him, presenting herself for his cock and his hands. Dipper kept grinding back and forth inside her, gently trying to increase his pace.
The other Mabel sat on the bed, spread her legs, and let Dipper watch as she masturbated in front of him and her double. The boy gazed at those long smooth legs, so soft and flawless, except for the band-aid on her right thigh. There was a band-aid on her right thigh. A band-aid. A band-aid. He stopped thrusting. Why do I care about a band-aid? he wondered. Something made him look up to the triangular attic mirror, some brief movement or glimpse of something in the dark.
It was an owl. Perched right outside the window was an owl watching in silence. The raindrops pelted its brown coat, and the storm ruffled its feathers, and yet it remained motionless and unconcerned about the weather, or the boy who was staring back at it.
“Is something wrong Master?” asked the masturbating girl.
“The owls are not what they seem,” he said. I know this from somewhere.
“Oh,” she replied. “What?”
“Mabel, the owls are not what they seem.”
“What?” Both Mabel and Lebam said in unison.
He looked away from the owl and back toward the naked girl with the fingers in her pussy. “No, no more games. Mabel, I know which is which, why we're doing this, I get it now.”
“Oh do you?” they both started. “How about -”
He pulled out of Lebam, ignoring her squeal and subsequent collapse onto the floor. He reached for Mabel, and unable to resist, she reached out for him. “Mabel, I figured it out.”
Her eyes widened. “You know,” she whispered, “you really do.” A set of tears spilled down Mabel's eyes. “It took you long enough. Seriously, my vagina's killing me, wow. We were just, going at it like rabbits. White rabbits. I wasn't sure how many more carrots I could take down my rabbit hole.”
Mabel and Dipper hugged. “I remembered it now, you have a band-aid on your right thigh. Lebam is the opposite, so she has one on her left thigh. That's how I know which of you is which. I... saw it in a dream.”
Lebam grunted as she sat back on the bed. “No, it was a vision of things to come, veiled in the logic of another place.”
“Another place?” he asked. “The room with the red curtains, you were there.”
Lebam nodded.
“The owls are not what they seem,” said Dipper and Lebam together. Dipper looked back at the window. The owl was gone.
The triangle... “Oh my gosh, I remember him. The owls are not what they seem. Bill Cipher, he was in my dream!”
“Vision,” corrected Lebam.
Mabel shrugged. “Eh, same diff?”
* * *
Summer of Last Year

“And then this doofus here ran across my front yard completely naked, and then tried climbing up our tree with just her hair covering her super white butt. And the crazy part is, no one ever saw her!”
Tambry, laying her nude body against the living room sofa, finished the story just in time to burst into a fit of laughter. The joint in her hand had burned down to its very end, though luckily for her the table was still littered with more.
Wendy, finishing her first can of beer, and proving herself to be a supremely lightweight drinker, coughed as she too burst into laughter. She was nestled besides the very old, very hairy body of their very drunk host, sitting opposite of a very blazed and equally drunk Tambry. “No no no,” Wendy started, dropping the empty can, “you said… you said your mom wasn’t gonna be there. She wasn't supposed to be there!”
“And she wasn’t!” said Tambry as she reached out for more weed, and completely missed the table.
“But your dad was!”
Tambry covered her mouth and fell over laughing.
“Oh crap she’s about to barf!” the redhead cried out.
“No! No I'm not, Wendy, you bitch!”
“Ha, you said bitch!”
Tambry laid on the floor, looking up at the ceiling above. “Oh good times, good times. Why did you even go outside? You and your 13 year-old self running around naked as can be.”
“It was for a flower,” said Wendy, opening up another can of beer, “you said it looked pretty, so I snatched it for you.”
Stan turned the TV on. A rerun of that Duck-tective sneak peek preview was playing again. Tambry kept staring up at the ceiling, ignoring the TV. “I don't remember that part,” she murmured. Tambry started laughing again despite herself. “Oh man, this is great. And I was feeling so awful earlier, I don't even know why anymore.”
Even in her drunken state Wendy felt a pang of pain ripple within her chest. She pressed her nude body against Stan’s arms and chest. “You sure you don’t wanna put a bullet in her?”
Tambry raised an arm up and stuck out her middle finger at the both of them, and then let her arm drop back onto herself while in a fit of giggling.
Stan Pines chugged the rest of his beer down. “Nah, you kids are alright, even if you did break into my shop and take all my drugs.” He leaned in to give Wendy a kiss. Wendy was too far gone to feel uncomfortable about having an old man plant one on her. She puckered her lips and closed her eyes, welcoming Stan’s tongue with her own. He tasted like old people beer and old people and also vapor rub.
The kiss ended. Wendy pressed her breasts against his arm. “So, Mister Mystery, you wanna fuck? I wish I could come up with some clever double etendre or something, but, I’m so wasted right now, so wasted that you could totally just do whatever you want to me and I couldn't stop you. Anything...” The man’s cock was rock solid, she could feel it in her hand, the one she was using to slowly massage him to full stiffness. It was amazingly rock solid, Wendy didn’t even think old people could maintain an erection, much less show off after banging a girl 1/5th his age.
“Soos is supposed to come back in another hour. The guy expected me to do a little smoking, not turn my place of business into a brothel, so if we're gonna get started, it's gotta be now.”
“Well fuck it,” blurted out Tambry, “fuck fuck fuck, if he has more drugs around, I’d say fuck it, he can join too. Let's keep the store closed all day long and fuck and get obliterated. And where’s my phone?”
Stan cupped one of Wendy’s tits as he positioned her on his lap. She felt his cock on her loins, though the man couldn't quite steady her enough to get himself inside her. But he was going to pull it off eventually, and then he and his greedy cock would use her and fill her with cum, just like he had with Tambry. No romance, no date, not even protection. Some amount of doubt lingered in her mind, though not enough to ask him to stop. His stupid man hands fumbled with his dick, trying to get it inside her and failing something fierce.
Not my asshole, you asshole, she said to herself as his hard-on briefly poked at her rectum. Awkwardly reaching for the beer she had opened, she instead found his wallet. “Oh my God family photos!” she yelled as she hopped off his lap and pulled out what was inside. Though wobbling on her feet she still managed to stay upright. “Tam-Tam, come, look at the cute pictures!”
“I'm fine right here,” said Tambry, lying on the floor with an arm wrapped over her stomach.
The first picture was a very old one of two little boys, riding on a swing set, though it was only of their backs. She was about to ask Stan about it until she found a newer picture. It was of a little boy and girl, barely older than toddlers. “Twins!” she cried out. “Oh my God they’re adorable. Are they your grandkids?”
He tried to get his wallet back. Unfortunately he was more drunk then he initially thought, the girl easily avoiding the swipe of his hand. He sighed. “No, they’re my grand niece and nephew, Mabel and Dipper.’’
“Mabel and Dipper…” she pondered, rubbing a thumb across the picture. “Grand niece and nephew? What about grand children?”
Stan shrugged a shoulder. “Got married, divorced, didn't last long. Thanks for the trip down memory lane.”
She kissed the photo twice, once each for Mabel and Dipper. “They’re so adorable. How old are they?”
“They have to be around 11 or so right now. Both little Hell-raisers, especially the girl, you have no idea.”
I can guess. “You love them.”
Another shrug. “Yeah well, they're still good kids.”
Wendy took a shot of the old man's whiskey, an act she instantly regretted. It burned like Hell going down her throat and made her cough. "Acck! Wow that's terrible! But no, no look, I can tell, because I have 29 billion brothers, well ok like 4, still, I can tell that you love them with all your heart, they’re YOUR family and they're what you got. It’s all over your eyes old man. Hey, hey… come here… let me show you some love, I could be your grand-daughter for the day... "
Even in his drunken state he winced at the grotesque nature of her words, but they stirred within him something base and raw, arousing him more than he’d ever want to admit even to himself. With her fingers around his manliness, he reached around and smacked the girl’s butt as their lips met again. She tasted like scotch, tobacco tar, and everything a 14 year-old wasn't supposed to taste like. It worked for her.
Where Stan had gotten the pink, double sided strap-on dildo neither Tambry nor Wendy knew, maybe the man had weirder kinks then either one of them wanted to imagine. He claimed it was from his Lost and Found box and that he had never used it. It at least didn't smell like someone had used it before. Either way they planned on using it now. The drunk, dark-skinned girl cautiously got onto her hands and knees and with the dildo in one hand and the crop in the other she stumbled on all fours to her friend and the ancient pervert. Her body swaying from side to side, the girl found herself accidentally planting her face on Wendy’s butt. The redhead jumped at suddenly having someone's tongue vigorously making out with her rectum. She felt Tambry's little nose poke at her butt crack while Stan rubbed his mass against her wet sex.
Tambry gripped her friend's thigh and tugged at her, pulling her down, forcing her onto her knees. Wendy faced the old man's hard-on, her lips puckering around his leaking tip. Stan wrapped his hand around her hair and eased her lips toward his cock. She closed her eyes and accepted the hot, meaty flesh into her mouth.
The other teen pressed her chest against Wendy's back and watched as the redhead sucked on Stan's dick. Up and down the red-haired girl’s head went along the man’s long, white, veiny pole. She fingered herself as she watched her best friend perform fellatio on Stan. She nibbled on Wendy's neck, leaving plenty of little bite marks she knew would leave behind plenty of little bruises in the morning.
At some point Tambry remembered she had a double-sided strap-on that needed trying out. Holding the thing with both hands, she slipped it as deep down her throat as she could till she gagged on it. She slid it up and down her throat a few times, thoroughly drenching it in her spit before doing the same for the other side. With both hands Tambry pushed the lubed-up toy into her pussy. It stung at first, with how deeply it went inside her, but the combination of alcohol and weed helped dull the discomfort. With riding crop in hand, she used it to strike at Wendy’s ass. The redhead squealed, choking on Stan’s hard length, and Stan, while smoking a joint, kept the girl’s mouth firmly around his dick. Trying to steady herself, Tambry pressed the tip of the strap-on's dildo against Wendy's pussy while also spreading the girl's ass cheeks.
Wendy yelped when Tambry finally thrust it inside her, down the wrong hole. Luckily the girth of the thing wasn’t so ridiculously thick that it was fit only for stretch queens, and it was lubed up, so it slid in with minimal friction, but still, even in her intoxicated state it stung to have her asshole violated so. Wendy shut her eyes tight and tried relaxing her sphincter. She began masturbating as she found herself enveloped in a world of pain and pleasure. Another smack of the crop, this time across her shoulder blades, made her screech.
"Ow what the fuck Tam-tam?!” cried Wendy, pushing back against Stan’s grip and freeing herself from his saliva drenched dick.
Coordinating a thrust of her hips and a swing of a crop at the same time was a lost cause, so dropping it, Tambry grabbed hold of Wendy's ass cheeks and focused on gently driving the strap-on's length deep inside her best friend's anus. The dark-skinned girl leaned forward and kissed the long red line that marked the wounded flesh of Wendy's shoulders and upper back. The dulled sensation of kisses being planted from shoulder to shoulder made Wendy shiver, the distant ache of her rectum being stretched open by the probing latex toy sliding in and out of her made her toes curl. It didn't take long before Stan eased Wendy's mouth back to the task of pleasuring his cock. She uttered out her little moans as she heard Tambry softly whimper. It was like she was in Heaven, but with sex toys and a super old guy.
Wendy looked up at the man he was blowing. He kept stroking her hair, something she appreciated ever so much. His grip on her head was relaxed enough that she managed ease his shaft out of her oral orifice, and while her body rocked back and forth in rhythm with Tambry’s seductive bucks against her behind, Wendy kissed his wrinkly old balls, with their white hairs and spotted flesh, and smelling doubly-so of grandpas. She started sucking on them, which, judging from his moans, he very much seemed to like.
Stan Pines couldn't remember the last time he even had sex. He wished he could blame his lack of memory on the drugs and scotch, or even old age, but there was no getting around the fact that he simply hadn't been with many girls in decades, or at least, none that were worth remembering anyway. He watched the colored girl sluggishly grind the toy up Wendy's butt, relished the sound of female flesh pumping into female flesh, and listened to the familiar sounds of slurred, drunk moaning. It was almost a shame that neither one was any good at sex, and the redhead wasn't exactly a pro at giving head, but he gave them credit for their wild enthusiasm and reckless abandon. He was so very close to draining the sperm in his ancient balls right at her gorgeously youthful, freckled little face. At least he was, until the very intoxicated Tambry stopped thrusting. She pulled back suddenly, making Wendy almost bite his scrotum.
“OWW fuck Tambry what did we say about being gentle?” she asked, rubbing at her stinging butthole while haphazardly turning toward her drunken friend.
“Um, I dunno," she slurred, "Wendy? Wendy, Wendy….”
“That’s my name sweetheart.”
“No fuck you Wendy, seriously though look, Wendy, I- I have to tell you something.”
Wendy tried to stand up, though to no success. She looked at her friend. For some reason her heart fluttered at the mere sight of her. My God why are you so beautiful? “Yes my Tam-Tam?”
“I gotta puke.”
“Wha?”
Tambry covered her mouth and darted off in a drunken haste to the nearest hallway, her body slamming against one wall and then another with the strap-on's pink dildo bobbing between her legs.
“Do you want me to hold your hair?” Wendy yelled. There was no reply. She sighed. “So close and yet so far.”
She would've gotten up to chase after her except that a pair of rather burly arms snaked around her and held her close. Stan's unspent cock bumped against her rear. She covered her mouth as she giggled. He kissed her neck, nibbled on her flesh while groping her breasts. She moaned, and then burst out into a fit of giggling that only ended when his thick fingers found their way toward her lips. She suckled on his fingertips as she laid down on her back, opting for the comfort of a nice, warm carpet over the drunken awkwardness of trying to say upright, and she shivered as Stan went down on her, devouring her sweet, delicious pussy.
The taste of her juices was like meeting up with a long lost lover he hadn’t had his tongue inside of in years. It’s a shame the girly parts are attached to what are basically the mentally insane, he said to himself. I swear, the younger they are, the more insane they are.
He felt her convulse. Her mouth opened wide and she shut her eyes tight. She arched her back and he welcomed the light stream of fluids seeping from her cunt onto his awaiting tongue.
Laying in ecstasy, the cumming girl moaned and rubbed at her clit as Stan positioned himself on top of her. She felt the weight of his body pressing against her; she felt the tip of his cock on her pussy, readying to take her virginity away from her. It was almost surreal. Where was Tambry again? She was too high and drunk to remember.
“You ready kid?”
The alcohol made the whole thing seem so hilarious. Worst idea ever! “Dude, break me in, get that sperm in my belly!”
She yelled when he penetrated her virgin lips. It hurt more than she thought it would. She closed her eyes and dug her fingers into Stan's arms. A tinge of sadness hit her, knowing that she had stooped so low as to let this gross old pervert fuck her, but she pushed the thoughts aside. Tambry would make it all better after all. For now she merely held onto Stan's broad, surprisingly manly shoulders and wondered if her nails were cutting into his flesh. She found it strange though, how throughout the entire time they had been screwing and token’ together, that he hadn't ever removed his wife beater. God that thing stinks.
“You’re just like Tammy,” he said, as she pumped his cock in and out of her.
“What?”
“Tammy,” he said, “you know, your friend, right?”
“What, no, her name is... oww, slow down, oww…”
“Are you a virgin?” he asked. He stopped thrusting.
“Not anymore,” she said, slurring her speech and giggling. Was that cum or blood that was leaking from her vagina's lips? Wendy wasn't sure. “Not with that schlong inside me, sawing away at my guts, ripping my pussy apart, I mean, fuck dude, you're destroying me.” He gritted his teeth and bucked his hips hard at her pelvis. Wendy gasped and dug her nails deeper into his arms. He growled at her. So much for slowing down. “Oh Stan the Man, yes!”
Stan kept driving his cock in and out of her. Her every shrill groan encouraged him to propel his body harder and faster into her. “I swear to God, you better not fall in love with me.”
“Or what?” she uttered, running her nails up his arms and shoulders, and slowly down his back, “come on, I’ll make you kids. Lots of kids, as many as pappa wants, and you can be my sugar daddy who takes care of me while I stay at home, smoke weed and blow you every night.”
He grunted and sped up his bucks into her loins. To Wendy it hurt so bad she wondered if she'd faint. Why does this feel so good? “Put a baby inside me you fucking pervert!”
The cellphone rang. “Oh no, stop!” she yelled as she pushed at his shoulders. “Time out boss man, I gotta answer my phone!”
“Wait, time out?” he asked, incredulously.
“Yes time out, or do you want me to tell everyone on Earth that we’re FUCKING?”
He let the girl go. Wendy snatched up the cellphone and got back to her feet. Though stumbling, she still managed with legs trembling to walk out of the living room and into the Mystery Shack’s exhibit room.
Stan felt more frustrated then he'd ever felt in his entire life. He sat down on the sofa, his cock as hard and tormented as could be. “Time out, what are we, 8? Stupid little girl.” He turned his attention to the TV, where some behind the scenes thing on the Duck-tective reboot was re-airing. He never liked Duck-tective, and he sure as Hell didn't care about the reboot. If only he knew where the remote was. That Tammy girl is probably barfing it out. God I hope she found the bathroom. “Lunatics, I swear, every one of them.”
The man scanned the coffee table. 6 beer cans and not a single one that wasn't empty, and when did the bottle of whiskey get spilled? Screw booze, this calls for a good old fashion cigar. The man reached out for his fake Cubans. Alas, he wasn't sure where his lighter was. But the redhead was a smoker, he figured she might have one. He found her jeans by the sofa chair, and picking them up, he searched the pockets. There wasn't a lighter, instead, he found a ring, one with a golden band and a blue gemstone engraved with a strange little insignia.
This was what you were going to bribe me with? What, were these kids already high when they got here?
“So, as you can see, we're going for a grittier, darker version of Duck-tective,” said the actor while being interviewed on the TV. It was a British man with a funny British name, Cumbersplatch or whatever. “He'll be dealing with his demons from the previous show, so it's also a reboot and a continuation, a celebration of past and present. We'll see him still dealing with the death of his old partner, something the old show never really addressed. And of course he'll be solving brutal murders every week. You know, dark and gritty and murder-y, for the children.”
Stan eyed the ring. He extended his ring finger.
“The fans of the old show will find things to like about this new one,” continued the actor, “you could even say that show you like is going to come back in style...”
* * *

Meanwhile…

He was gasping, he was sure of it, till he finally wasn't. Was there supposed to be a white light? For what, he wondered now. What was he forgetting? A white light? No, those were only the headlights. The headlights, and the long black road ahead of him on a long, black night. The headlights illuminated the yellow road lines, each one passing underneath the vehicle. One yellow line after another.
Stanley Pines didn't have a lot of friends. If he were honest with himself he'd have admitted that he didn't have any friends. The car was the closest thing he had to one, and the damn thing barely worked half the time.
The road was long and straight, seemingly never to end. Only it was supposed to, it had to, he was sure it would. For the first time in a long while he had somewhere to go, someplace to be, someone to meet.
“Do you think they'll forgive you if they ever found out?” whispered the man in the backseat, hidden in shadow.
“Eh, it's all water under the bridge,” said Stan, “we were always going to work it out. It just took longer than I thought, that's all. Family is family is what I always say.” That was a lie. He didn't turn around to face the man in the backseat.
“Whatever you say, Stanley.”
“No, it's Stanford. Stanford Pines.”
“When they see you for what you really are, do you think they'll ever trust you again?” asked the man in the backseat.
Stan turned the radio on. It was just static. Static on an empty, black road. He drove for several miles before he turned it back off. “Eh, there's nothing ever good on anyway. Just a bunch of loud noises and weird robot gibberish, like as if any of that stuff’s supposed to be music. Anyway, it's gonna be great, just like old times. Like the good old times. Before...”
“Before what?” whispered the man. “What did you do?”
Stan was silent for a long time. He fumbled around in his pocket, found the carton of cigarettes and a match box. Rolling down the window, he lit the cigarette. The smoke calmed his nerves. He offered the man in the backseat one. He didn't take it. Stan threw the match out the window. “He always thought he was better than me. That insufferable prick, he always did. Always had to throw it in my face, every time. And it's not like I didn't have plans too you know, I mean, where does he think I'm going now? Right?”
“You're going to lose them, you know you will. Just like you lost him, just like he'll lose her, and you'll watch him fall.”
A set of tears ran down Stan's eyes. “Yeah well, like I always say, family is family. It's all in the past you know? I Just gotta get to where I'm going, make things right again. It’s been years since I’ve seen him, but he’s finally ready to let the past go.”
Out in the distance the headlights spotted something to the side of the road. A pink little shiny package reflected the headlight's luminescence. There was something next to the package too, also small and pink, but alive and sitting patiently. Stan slowed the car down, stopped it a little while away. He got out of the car, leaving the man in the backseat behind. He walked the short distance to the package and the pink living thing. The sycamore trees were everywhere, both behind and ahead of him.
It was a pig, he realized. A pink, pudgy pig with a little dark spot around his left eye. Stan picked up the package. The word 'TAMPON' was scribbled over the entire length of one side.
“I was looking for these,” said Stan. “That's what she said I'm supposed to get.” The rain began pouring down on him.
“Stanley!” said the pig, yelling as the thunder roared above, “do you happen to know which road you're on?”
Dumbstruck, Stan looked back down at the package. “It's Stanford, my name is Stanford Pines.”
Waddles shook his head. “No, it's not.”
Stanley turned around. The man in the car's backseat sat in the darkness.
“Tell her you have them,” said the pig.
“I don't need a pig barking orders at me, sheesh!” he said as he walked back to the car.
“Tell her you have them,” the pig reiterated, “Wendy, it's only for her, and her only.”
Stan stopped. “Yeah, that’s right, she wanted them… ” He started walking again, and then sprinted towards the car, slipping and falling into the mud but getting get up just as quickly. The man in the backseat opened the door and ran away.
“Don't chase him,” said the pig, “get back in your car and drive home.”
“Oh my God, she's bleeding,” he remembered. The little girl was bleeding. “I have them! I have the tampons!” the car roared to life as he gasped for air. “Wendy, I have them! I have them!”
Stan awoke gasping for air. The naked girl on his lap had relaxed the coil around his throat.
She was still riding his cock, rocking hard against him for her own pleasure. He was in the midst of an intense orgasm the likes of which he'd never experienced before. He was lost in time and space and reality, his body only reacting to instinct and pleasure as his cock burst its load up Wendy's wet, convulsing cunt. She was clawing at his skin, he felt her nails draw blood, and in his delirium he only felt it as pleasure. Everything was pleasure, even the pain, Wendy had made his suffering feel so good.
Her eyes shut, she quivered as her orgasm peaked and slowly faded, her sweat and bruise covered body milking Stan's cock for every ounce of ecstasy she could gain from him.
He slowly began to remember where he was. He was naked, and so was Wendy. She had shot him with a grappling hook, knocked him unconsious, and tied him up. She was raping him, only it wasn't her anymore, not really. Mabel and Dipper were upstairs, and they were... they were...
“What the fuck are trying to say?” the girl that used to be Wendy asked, panting from the exertion of sex and attempted murder.
“I have them,” he wheezed out heavily. It hurt just to breathe.
She gazed coolly at the old man. “You have nothing.”
“I got it right here,” he said in barely a whisper. It was in his hands. His wrists were bruised from the binds being used to tie his hands behind the chair he was chained to. It was a package, wrapped in plastic. He dropped it. “Waddles gave it to me.”
The girl stared at the package. “I don't care, I don't want it, not after what you did to me.”
“That wasn't me!” he growled out between gasps.
The rage in her voice swelled. “Fuck you! You never stop torturing me. In my waking nightmares I see you in the darkness peeking in, crawling in through the cracks like a cockroach to hurt me. For 5 years, for every day of those 5 years I saw you and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I see the surface but I know better. I know what's underneath it, I know what's really there. You broke me, shattered me into nothing. But I'm still here, and I'm taking back what I deserve, so let's just forget about what the piggy sent me.”
“He never said it was for you, it was for Wendy.”
Her gaze hardened. “I'm Wendy.”
“No you're not.”
“Yes I am. I'm red-headed, girl-power, moody teenager Wendy Corduroy, with lots of ex-boyfriends, a fierce spirit, mad axe-wielding survivalist skills, and a loving father, that's me. I deserve to be Wendy. I am Wendy. At least, I will be. And I'll have everything she has. Her friends, her lovers, this stupid job, even her shitty hat. I’m going to wear the shit out of that shitty hat.”
The possessed Wendy still had his manhood inside her. Stan couldn't help but feel aroused. Despite the nightmare he was going through, his spent penis began growing anyway. “She won't have me around anymore if you kill me.”
The girl shrugged her shoulders. “Blame Bob, I already do. Oh, is that what I think it is?” Her hips rocked at his hardening length. They both grunted. She began stroking her wet loins as she rode the man's length, then wiped his cum across her breasts. She fondled herself, hissing at the pain the bruises brought her. “At least you got to fuck your underaged employee, isn't that something?”
Stan tried to speak but was silenced by the girl's hand covering his mouth.
“I don't have to kill you now, it can wait. So just relax, let's have a little fun, no strangling involved. Hey, wouldn't it be funny if you got me knocked up, and then I had to raise the baby? If it happens I promise I'll name him Stanford, after his dead dad. Now shush, I wanna enjoy your last orgasm too.”

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Twin Pines