The daughter of a hippies and campus radicals, Moonbeam, became the
leader of a radical group of animal rights activists. She was
respected for her willingness to take risks. She had liberated
animals from university testing labs; she had staged downtown
protests, including pooring milk on a well know actress, and she was
the artistic genius behind the radical group, ANIMALS FIRST add
campaign. And she was just 24 years old.
This day, she and two other young women activists walk downtown with
red paint hidden in their armbags . The other activists look up to
Beam as an idol. The urge to be near this beautiful young woman is
overwhelming. Moonbeam has short brown hair in a pretty punk style
with bangs parted to each side of her broad forehead. In the back, a
long fashionable, braided cornrow tail hangs, curling, down and over
her right shoulder. Tall, if she had lived a more conventional life,
she could have been a model. She is also strong. She has round,
strong shoulders, beautifully tanned, prominantly rounding from her
white tank top t-shirt. Nice, pert, hand-sized, round breasts push
against the front of her cotton tanktop, which is tucked into her
black bike tights. Her tights hug her long sloping thighs. Her butt
is slightly disproportional, though certainly not unattractive. It
jutts out big and jiggly against her tights, her ass-cheeks rising
and falling rhymically as she walks.
An idolizing follower walking behind Moonbam and salivating, thinks to herself:
"They look like volleyball sized jelly rolls, those perfect mounds" .
Moonbeam's helpers, who never would admit it, because, in their group serious
animal rights activism is everything-no small talk or sexual flirtation in this
group, would follow her to hell and back. Not because they so fervently agree
with her activism, but because they are transfixed with their leader's charisma,
beauty and charm, and intelligence, and her heavenly butt. They are happy
activists walking behind Moonbeam.
Karen waits outside the department store, watching the four woman.
She knows they are going to terrorize some poor, rich, unsuspecting woman. She
hates radicals. She loathes them. Damn self-righteous bitches; born with
everything: money, wealth, intelligence, everything. And they see fit to torment
others who have
done nothing wrong, except maybe fish, hunt and wear fur?
Karen especially hates the tall, pretty one with the braided tail. She
knows she wouldn't like the damn dyke bitch. But, dag, looking down
the crowded sidwalk from a distance, even Karen thinks the perfect
Moonbeam is pretty. Karen, approaching at an angle, thinks Moonbeam
resembles a big, young Neve Campbell with a parted, punk, haircut.
"And she has a big J-LO ass" Karen thinks to herself, as she nears the pretty
activist. Suddenly Karen is overwhelmed with an attraction for Moonbeam. Karen
salivates with lust and hatred. She struggles forward. This moment, hatred wins
out.
Then, an old woman exits an upscale department store, just in front of
Moonbeam and her crew onto the busy sidewalk. The white-haired woman
is wearing a fur coat."Ugly woman-beautiful mink", thought Karen.
Moonbeam reaches into her bag and closes on the woman. Karen runs
quickly between them.
Karen steps in front of Moonbeam and pushes the can of red paint
aside. "NOT TODAY, BITCH." Karen looks into the suprised face of
Moonbeam. Stunned by the beauty of the radical activist, and moved by
Moonbeam's charisma, Karen melts and forgets her mission. "Please,
please, let me fulfill my mission." Karen mumbles to herself and clenches her
fists with determination. Again, Karen's seething hatred for the dyke wins out,
temporarily
Karen quickly reaches out and grabs Moonbeam's shoulders.
But, again, Karen pauses. As head cheerleader at the university, and
president of the Campus Conservatives, Karen had always hidden her
underlying attraction for females. She had played the pretty, spunky
and cute and religiously straight role of the head cheerleader, who
had dated the football star, perfectly. Until now.
Now, an awe falls over her. This woman in front of her, who had
consumed Karen's every thought with hatred, who is now, just inches away,
consumes Karen with lust. But it's more than lust. It's a love and a realization
that this woman, this hippie punk, with multicolored
hair, is perfection incarnate. Karen utters a "HUH!", her mouth
agape, and, almost fainting, stumbles.
Then: "Get out of my way, yuppie!" Moonbeam, snarls at Karen as she
pushes Karen to the side. Moonbeam steps toward the old fur-lady, her
minions close behind. Moonbeam pushes the spray pant nozzle can up
to the old woman's fur coat.
"Murderer!" Moonbeam spits, as she spays red pant onto the old
woman's face and fur. "Muderer! Murderer!" Moonbeam's followers chime
in, scowls on their hippie faces.
The old woman, stunned, falls back crying. "Oh my God! Help me!" The
red pant chokes her. A crowd gathers around the commotion on the
sidewalk.
"Serves you right, murderer!" Moonbeam spits at the bawling lady, who
is curled on the ground.
"OH NO! OH NO!" Karen regains her composer, and her hatred for the
radical activist. "WITCH, STOP IT!", She pushes through the crowd to
Moonbeam.
"What do you want, yuppie?" Moonbeam turns on Karen, a scowl on her
face. Moonbeam throws her arms out agresively, as if to say: "Come
on!"
Karen, trained in MMA style fighting, steps close to Karen. She
quickly dips to her right knee-left knee forward-and drills a
straight right punch into Moonbeam's belly.
"UUUMMF!" Moonbeam croaks, as Karen's fist disappears into the
hippie's t-shirt, and deep into her soft gut. "OOOHHH! UUUGGG!"
Moonbeam spits sick from deep inside her bowels. Her butt is thrust
back and her wide open mouth falls forward.
"YOU ARE EVIL" Karen shouts spontaneously. Then, with practiced
perfection, Karen unloads a swirling roundhouse uppercut to
Moonbeam's chin.
"CLACK!" Moonbeam's mouth snaps shut, and her head shoots back, her
eyes glazed. But, before she can fall back, Karen garbs the front of
Moonbeam's tank-top shirt, clenching and drawing the stunned hippie
close.
"HUH!" Moombeam utters, stunned and helpless. Her followers are held
back by a gang of youngsters and cannot help. They watch their poor
goddess get pulverized.
"YOU! ARRR!" Karen, filled with rage, cannot think and lets loose.
She slaps the hippie's face, "SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!" As
Moonbeam's face is smacked left and right, her cornrow tail flies
around loosely behind her. Karen, with her left hand, grabs
Moonbeam's left ear, pulling it up, and grabs the elastic band of
Moonbeam's tights from behind with her righr hand.
"Ow! Ow! Owie!" The once proud goddess cries, as Karen yanks her
over to the now sitting fur-lady.
"TELL HER, YOU ARE SORRY, WITCH!" Karen commands, as she pulls up on
on Moonbeam's ear and the seat of Moon's tights.
"No, Please. No!" Moonbeam whimpers and tries to fight back. She
tries to grab Karen's hand on her ear.
"STUPID PIECE OF CRAP!" Karen quickly steps in front of Moonbeam,
between the hippie and the old woman sitting on the sidewalk. Karen
machine-guns four quick punches into Moon's soft stomach. "I thought she was fit
but Her guts feel like mush." Karen thinks to herself.
"UUURRG! UUMMF!" Moombeam spits sickly, as she bends forward.
As if, just remembering something, Karen again steps behind the
sputtering hippie. Karen yells into Moonbeam's ear: "LAST CHANCE,
WITCH! TELL HER YOU'RE SORRY!"
"No! No!" Moonbeam pleads.
Karen pushes the back of Moonbeam's head forward causing Moon to bend
forward. Her big butt pushes back. Karen, with her right hand unzips
a small pack attached to her belt. She removes what apears to be
a cone to the onlookers. With her left hand, Karen pulls the seam of
Moonbeam's tights and her underwear open from the back. She puts the
open end of the cone down into the hippie's buttcrack. Then, Karen "SNAPS!"
Moonbeam's tights and undies back over the hippie's butt.
The three Saharan Red-Hot Scorpians, angry by the force of the tights
pushing them against the big woman's butt, are forced to seek refuge
in her crack. The audience standing behind Moon could see their forms
moving beneath her tights. One, crawls down her tight dung-hole.
"What! Huh!" Moonbeam, innediately realizes what they are. She looks
up, eyes wide.
The scorpians sting simultaneously.
"IIIIEEE! IIIEEE!" The once proud and poised radical, thrusts her
butt back, then jumps up into the air. "IIIEEE! IIIEEE! NOOO! NOOO!"
Again she bends forward, looking back at her own butt as she does,
and jumps. "IIIIEEE! IIIEEE" IT BURNS! NOOO! NOOO!" She can't think
what to do. "OOOWIII! OOOWIII. "HU! HU! HU! she breaths hard and
pants like a dog. "IIIEEE! IIIEEE!", and hops up again.
Finally, the unhappy hippie reaches back and pulls her tights and her
underwear down in back, exposing her big white buttcheeks to the
crowd. She desperately runs her right hand through her crack and
pulls her hand to her face. Seeing two of the scorpians attached to
her hand, she screams, "OOOOH NOOOO!" She turns mouth wide, and
windmilling her arms, and loses her balance. She falls, exposed butt
first, back towards the old woman, who is still sitting.
As if on cue, the old fur-lady lifts her thin walking cain up.
Moonbeam falls back and sits on the fine wooden stick., The old
woman, not able to hold the weight, puts her handle end down on the
sidewalk. Moonbeam sits, all of her weight falling on the stick. The
stick penetrates Moonbeam's tights and undies and impales her
butthole. The stick thrusts deep into the hippie's intestines.
Again, the once perfect hippie woman looks up, eyes wide. "IIIEEEE!
IIIEEEE!" IIIEEEE!" NO! NO! NO!." She stumbles forward to her knees,
her ass back. The silver knob of the cain sticks out of her butthole
Old woman, insensed, grabs the handle. "You cant have this young
lady!" and pulls the stick from the back.
"FLOOOP!" A sucking sound as the old woman pulls the stick from
Moonbeam's intestines and butt-hole.
The old woman, with a keen, refined sense of smell, can immediately
tell that the radical hippie was due for a bowel movement. Sticky
clumps of dark manure adhered to the cain.
The old woman moved the cain up to her nose, then quickly away. "That
is gross and uncooth, young lady!" The fur-lady offers and swats
Moonbeam's big butt with it. Then, she throws it aside.
Moonbeam, traumatized, falls on her belly and face, her big butt-
cheeks shine upward. The crowd moves aside for the cops, who finally
arrive.
The old woman cries "Arrest that heathen" pointing down at
the hippie. Karen, feeling a sense of acoomplishment, repulsion and a
revived sense of overwhelming lust and attraction for the butt-up
radical, picks up the tarred cain from the sidewalk and slips away in
the commotion.
Afterward:
Karen dropped her facade of being a straight and perfect good girl.
She becomes a hardcore violent S&M lesbian. Her good looks attract
many beautiful lesbians, who see Karen's tophy, the old woman's
wooden cain, with the dried hippie dung still on it, sitting in a
plack on Karen's wall above her firplace. If they looked closely,
they could have seen a tiny scorpian, the third one, which had been
crushed and pushed into Moonbeam's intestines.It was stuck in the dung, like
fossil at the end of the walking stick
Moonbeam suffered in the hospiital for a week, first being
treated for numerous exotic scorpian bites in her ass-crack and butt-
hole,the treated for a bruised and torn large intestine and
rectum. She remained suspended face down, ass up, her entire stay at
the hospital. Her aftercare treatment consisted of limited time
sitting, a steady dose of stool softeners. And no more activism.
