tagMind ControlThe Pied Piper  The Pied Piper   Author's Note:
This story contains interracial lesbian sex and is written in
the voice of someone living in the Southern states pre-WWI.   He
called his self the Pied Piper, and Rusty said he's just like in
the fairy story. I don't know 'bout that, but Lord Almighty he
could play like the devil his self—he made that fancy guitar
wail in the night like no man shoulda been able. I laid down
before him like a dog, I did, whimperin' and howlin' along with
the rest.  Mama Fay told me he was back after the town had run
him out for playin' on the Lord's day but I didn't see him for a
week after that. I spent my days pickin' cotton 'til my fingers
bled, and my nights pickin' a banjo, tryin' to make a little bit
extra to get us fixed, me and Mama, and maybe head us outta
Mobile before winter come. I kept tellin' Mama I wanted to see
them mountains, the ones with the snow on the tops that I saw
pitchers of in Big Lem's books.  Rusty, she made me come wit her
to see him.