On The Bayou, Part III: The Mass Nazi-Tickle

"On the Bayou" began as - and still is - a three-part tale about a man who uses tickling as a means of punishing the wannabe neo Nazi vandals (called the "Diables Demence") who have been terrorizing his neighborhood. The tale posted here is the THIRD part of that extensive story. For reasons I won't go into here, the first two portions of the story are not appropriate for this site. But, so that this tale isn't completely lost on you, I will recap a little by telling you that (earlier in the tale) the main character, Moses Broussard, had taken an ex-member of the neo Nazi gang into his home. This young former you vandal subsequently becomes a virtual member of the Broussard family, and he bears witness as Moses enlists the aid of a toughened urban street gang-The Crips-to aid him and his neighbors against the bucolic wannabe Nazi vandals.

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Caught In The Act

The village of Upshaw nestled in the Swaledale hills like a hand in a well-fitting glove. It was relatively undiscovered by tourists, and life there went on in much the same way as it had for the last two centuries. The sleepy little streets were patrolled occasionally by the single resident policeman (when he wasn't otherwise occupied sampling Mrs. Donaldson's home-made Rhubarb wine), and the locals spent their time either in the fields or in the pub. Life in Upshaw was nothing if not routine.

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Harney's Punishment

Poaching Deer can be a Ticklish Situation!

Harney Simms drew a bead on the doe that was munching on the apples he put out as bait the day before. He squeezed the trigger, and his gun roared and spit fire, dropping the doe where she stood. Running up to her, he checked to make sure she was dead by touching her eye with the tip of his rifle barrel. Then he went to work getting ready to open her up and jerk out her innards. He looked about him a little nervously, because he was hunting on the Higgenbotham's family's land, and they were old-fashioned folks who didn't take kindly to trespassers, and even less kindly to deer poachers!

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A History of Torture

Will was browsing in his second home, the college library. He had decided that this place was to be his refuge from the pressures and demands of life at school. So far, he was not too successful as a freshman at the enormous University. It was his first extended period away from home and parents. An only child, he had been watched over quite carefully, receiving loving--but strict--supervision. Many other eighteen-year-olds would have chafed at such treatment. But Will liked it just fine.

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Chain Letters

May 12, 1990

Dear Editor:

I finally got up the nerve to write to the hottest sex mag on the market today. Reading month after month all the letters from guys who spill their hottest secrets and real-life experiences makes me so hot I can barely hold back my cum until the last page.

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