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“Sleazed Pickens”

By Vaulthurst

2010

The story opens as I looked through years upon tons of junk others tossed out. What is poison to one is like pudding to someone else and somebody thinking ahead that some fool would come along and consider this dump as a warehouse store filled with Antiques.

Just driving along a rural highway, I saw the rusted sign and the old store at the end of all land, near to the small town of Copper harbor. The store was but a ramshackle place, dirty and piled high with junk they too thought little of and piling it outside in the tough upper Michigan weather it laid wait for a friend to set it on fire. Although I did stop there to look and maybe pick, when I walked inside saw there about an equal to the mess as was outside.

“Good afternoon, although it is a warm and humid day, good day for looking at what one might have a need.” I said as a common greeting to the crotchety old man clerking the store.

He turned quickly and faced me, eyed me as if buying some of what the store already had too much of, he huffed a breath and said in reply, “Normal day, same old weather up here for summer, you got any idea of what you are looking for, or just here to move some dust?”

I smiled, and thought for a moment, then said, “Warm weather and the usual friendly upper Michigan style of a greeting, no wonder this store looks so popular with the tourists!”

The old man had a built on scowl into his face, unshaven for days, his deeply sun-tanned skin looked weathered like old leather and or what the store had for sale. He half closed one eye and stared like a pirate at me with the other before he said, “F.O. to you, people do not move up here because they have a great love for human kinds!”

Hearing that attitude most people would quickly return the same and go get back in their car and drive away, but not me. Antiques are a sense of attitude, and they with such have a way of deciding of whom they feel is worth their time to service. Having heard his terse comment I first sighed, then said, “Where few people wander there one can find some true treasures of life!”

The man almost smiled, he walking over to sit again by the cash register, it and he seated a few steps up higher so he might watch the smaller merchandise there gathering dust in the glass showcases.

I began there in the store front looking over a box of jewelry and lapel pins, I chanced to note this one item which caught my eye. As if made of Copper, engraved with the odd word Zepar written in an odd script, it was a long tie clasp, untarnished, set with a red gemstone, it just offset from its very center, the thing twinkled catching my searching eye.

Looking at some other items I kept a certain memory for the one piece and went about looking at other jewelry items before wandering to look at some small, rather decrepit looking tables. The man began following me, as I kept thinking of that neat if different tie clasp, after moving a far amount of dust from old furniture, I turned round and went beck to pick the tie bat and asked the big question of how much.

Wrangling began, as he wanted fifty dollars for the bright bobble. I offered him ten dollars. We gabbed about the priceless item until agreeing the realistic price was twenty dollars. The wallet open and out came a twenty dollar bill that the mad first tested with a die mark to assure the dollar was the real thing. My selected purchase was worth the dealing with a heated argument, the store proprietor wishing to get the highest price and me the lowest.

At last the arguing was settled, and upon my return to the car I clipped the item to my shirt pocket where while driving I could eye it in the rearview mirror.

Now this is where things began to get a little more of odd.

I drove back south along the M-215 highway, it traversing the rocky coast toward the main upper peninsula of Michigan. Vacationing, I as driving was a tourist would see something, stop and often snap a picture of the exceptionally beautiful scenery. It was as I stopped to take a picture, I thought it neat to climb up some rocky cliff to get my best vantage point to take a striking picturesque photo. Once seated on this rock cliff I sat there and eyeballed the scene through the camera viewing lens when, I felt my ear getting licked.

Surprised of the sensation I turned to face there three goats having come to visit me, they alone in a group, stood eyeing me as if someone they could learn to like.

I tried to shoo them away, but they would return time after time, each liking to give an affectionate a lick to one of my ears, or as one so bold, she stuck her horned head and muzzle over my lap and lip nibbled at my groin.

Each time I tried to take the picture, a nanny goat intervened and ruined the shot. I was getting mad and as much quite disgusted, as with one, she an all black nanny goat who assaulted me first tried it more than the others, as for her I felt some additional aggravation.

Upset and ready to leave as the black nanny goat jammed her head in my groin and lip nibbled the end to my penis, I turned and screamed at the goat, yelling, “Damn it you F…ing creature, I’m not a Billy goat, but if…, if I were…, I wish that for one longest a day I were one, I would screw you until you could not stand up!”

She stopped her aggressive behavior and backed away, as from out of nowhere I heard this ear piercing whine and noise. I held my hands over my ears, but the sound seemed even worse. It made me feel faint, and falling to knees and hands I was at eye to eye with an overly affectionate threesome of nanny goats.

The three nanny goats turned tails toward me, offering me a close look at their furred rumps. Having seen nicer in my years, I thought again of the horrible sound and then through the noise said something like, “Damn it I are is not, want not, were not, might not, should not, might just, could be, would ask, if possible, I would love to become as a goat… a big buck goat, a herd sire goat… Baa!”

My mind reeled at the fact I just bleated to the nanny goats as if I were a goat myself.

Eyes blurred, head felt faint, I knew of where I had fallen, stood as on all four, I felt suddenly faint and let my whole self roll over on my side. I lay there feeling helpless as a baby, did nothing to stop what the three goats then did, they surrounding me, began to nimble, tear, and rip away all my clothing, what I wore the soon lay strewn around me all torn to shreds.

They muzzle nudged me to roll me to lie face up as one by one each took a turn sucking me into a major erection and to keep it going. Crazy the situation, as I lay there with this massive erection, and the nanny goats coming, they stepped over to stand above me, they winked an eye and then with great aims each, would lean back and plop-sit, by sitting their hot pussies slid down on and over the length of my erect shaft.

Wild and weird thoughts raced in my muddled brain as I watched in some odd sense of disconcert as my arms, legs, and entire body began to change in form, as my situation there was heeding to my weird wish of a want to become one large stud sire male goat.

Muddled the memories, but certainly not long after that I stood humped over a willing nanny goat. I felt her inner muscles gripping at my stiff shaft. I being much the taller, larger, stood over the nanny, my penis sunk in so deep the furry hairs of my sheath were prickling at the lips of her sex.

As the late afternoon sun began to set in the western sky, we four continued our fun play, those three nannies kept returning. They worked and played me for every ounce of semen they could make me spew.

Humping and thrusting like a wild beast in heat, I plummeted each of the nanny goats with my red and much longer shaft. Twisting and turning, dancing about I worked their pussies near raw, the black nanny got it more time than the other two.

It was nearly dark when the black nanny goat could not stand up but laid on the ground licking with her long tongue to her sore rump, it looking red and chapped. I stood there near my herd, me with still a massive erection, willing and as much ready to screw a bigger herd.

The brown nanny taunted me, as if I should follow her along a rocky trail. Imagine of my wild surprise when we topped a higher rise, there before me was as heaven to a sire goat, a large herd of goats.

Goats, goats, and more nanny goats all stood eyeing me and getting into a line. My afternoon was wild and seemed as well worth the lost humanity, as with dusk and unto midnight I screwed and thrust, humping, and pranced, standing for hours upon hours erect, me breeding as one insatiable a Billy goat blind with lust.

All thought the night my stamina bolstered me to move on from one satisfied a nanny to the next. The vague notation of seeing the rise of a red sun, it as what mother often said was as a warning of bad weather coming. I ignored the sun and its red meaning, as I worked on, me mating with those of my herd until it was mid that morning.

While thrust deep into a nanny goat and she clamped down hard and holding on me, her pussy tight against my hairy sheath, I felt then faint and toppled backwards, yanking my shaft from one hot tunnel of lust.

It was near dusk when I revived and found I was lying on the grassy pasture. Sitting up I was surrounded by those overly friendly nanny goats again. In as much I was again human, if but seeing my still an erect penis, it was anything but human in form, length, girth, and glandular contours. It protruded my lower abdomen just an inch shy of my navel. I had still a hairy goat sheath! Tilt of the head to look, I felt of having still the larger, loosely hung and hairy testicles. I could see my chest; belly and groin remained coated in goatish fur too!

Slowly I stirred and when I stood up, did walk with much staggering, trekking back and returned to where I was stripped of my clothing. Standing there blurry-eyed and feeling still half wishing my bestiality of the afore night would be nice to let it continue, I saw then on a rock set that copper pin, its stone red and twinkling in the sun.

I looked over at that black nanny goat, then picking up my camera and that pin, I said, “Come this time next year I want to return, and then I shall stay here as your sex slave, and as a goat for the rest of my life!”

Well that day shall be here quite soon, in two days from now I plan to visit that rock and maybe those nanny goats. The real thing I want you to know is I need a driver, as presently, my having wished then in the presence of that special magical pin is preparing me already for my lusty life as a male goat. My legs are goat legs, my toes are now cloven hooves, as completely unable to work the gas and braking peddles in the car, I have need of a friend to drive me there.

There, as to where I shall live my life, me an animal, a goat, acting as bestial and insane as this whole prospect I wished myself into is as if walking into hell.

I am well on my way to become a big brown Billy goat, my penis is as a goat cock, but with more girth this time, it reminds me some of a cock of a small pony, can you drive me there, please?

Thank you, but know this, when you drive back, go into my bedroom and find on the dresser that damn gemstone tie clasp pf a pin, have it melted down and tossed into the river. Beware of its power to doom, as one vain or foolish a wish can ruin you life and future.

My life is ruined, if different, but as bad as I look, I shall soon be quite the hardy male goat. I look lustily forward to be with my herd, as from one day of blissful mating, if the herd were to double in size, think, think of how my duties stand there as a future, my lustful an endeavor!

“Baa…!”

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