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Jenny's Couch Book III, part 3 (M+g, ped, prost, exhib, humil, oral) by Rufus Fugit It took us a while to get organized to leave the house. I'm a guy, getting dressed was trivial. I took a minute for a quick whore's bath, running a soapy washcloth over the dried semen, spit, and the sex and anal juices flaking off my abdomen and clotting my pubes; after that, boxers, jeans, tshirt, socks, shoes, hoodie, done. Not so with the two girls. They both needed a real bath to wash off the sticky mess that was mostly Karen's girl-cum. They bathed together while I sat on the toilet and watched them chattering and splashing in the tub, their skin flushed from the heat. For that moment they were just two sisters, innocent and unviolated. If you ignored Renee's new penis, the molded glans just breaking the surface of the water. ("Up periscope!" I joked. They didn't get it.) And Karen, bless her heart, was still suffering occasional little aftershocks from her prolonged orgasm. Both Renee and I had to repeatedly pull the sixth-grader's hands off her cunt or we would have never gotten out of the house. And they were girls so just the issue of choosing the correct wardrobe took on the dimensions of the Camp David peace talks. Plus there were some...extra considerations. Renee wanted to go out with her new appliance. I told her it really wasn't going to work but she had to find out for herself. First she couldn't figure out how to keep her panties from having their elastic ruined so she was going to leave them off. Then she ended up staring in dismay at herself in the mirror, at the ridiculous protrusion in the front of her Carhartts. Worse, as she tried to walk it snagged the heavy fabric and moved uncomfortably inside her. So then she tried the purple cotton dress I had bought for her before Christmas. This time her new plastic penis, protruding 6 inches or so from her crotch at a 45-ish degree incline almost tore the dress - it was fairly tight above the skirt anyway. The only way she could make it work was to lift the skirt up and and leave it hitched over the dildo. Which even she had to admit looked pretty silly. (Actually, I found that it looked almost intolerably erotic, the way the rucked-up bright purple fabric revealed the fourth-grader's sturdy bare thighs with the jet-black cock sticking out between them. But it was really a dress-up-at-home kind of look, not for going out.) So in the end I got Renee to detach herself from the new sex toy. It slid out of her juvenile vagina with not a little resistance - I had to rotate it - gently! - a bit back and forth as both the Astroglide and most of her natural lubrication had dried up. She winced a little as she took the first few steps without it but was otherwise characteristically stoic. I had indeed repaired her original strapon with fresh elastic. It was terribly cute the way Renee hugged it against her cheek like a favorite doll when she first took it out of its box. So on it went, Renee holding her dress up above her bellybutton as I tightened the straps. Then she stepped into her Powerpuff Girls panties and I snugged them into place. The molded scrotum bulged absurdly behind the cotton crotch of the thin fabric and several inches of shaft emerged from the elastic waist, pointed straight at the child's navel. I couldn't resist giving her butt cheeks a quick grope. She was growing - each was now a bit more than a delightfully pliable handful. Anklet socks and sneakers and her waist-length hair brushed out - side-parted, a new look for her - and she was ready. With Karen, the struggle was getting her to wear any clothing at all. But in the end she consented to wear her surprise gift from me, as much to avoid hurting my feelings as anything - not that there was much difference between it and total nudity. It was a sheer spaghetti-strap babydoll in a pale mint-green that set off the sixth-grader's skin tone beautifully. It laced up the front and was cut very low in back with some more lacing. The fabric was basically transparent. Karen's beautiful, pert, teacup breasts were completely visible beneath the fabric, riding high and separate on her narrow chest - she had no real cleavage yet. Her nipples, a shade darker and swollen to the size of large strawberries, poked out against the silky fabric. The skirt came just to the tops of her thighs, emphasizing her long, slim legs with just a bit of childish knobbiness to her knees remaining. There was a matching pair of panties, or sleep shorts or something. The extra layer of fabric concealed nothing, especially since they were quite loose...and crotchless. The blue sandals she had arrived in went nicely with the ensemble, as did the white lace choker I gave her in a separate box. A small silver heart dangled from the front. Karen blushed and smiled shyly when she saw the engraving, in fancy script: "Whore", of course. While Karen did her makeup in my bedroom, Renee sat on my lap on the couch and we watched some tv - I clicked through an assortment of gay cowboy porn I had downloaded just for her. The ten-year-old giggled and squirmed through the action. I could never tell if she found it arousing or just silly, or maybe some of both. Her eyes danced merrily, she bounced lightly on my thighs, and her left hand pressed against the cylindrical bulge in the fabric of her dress. Karen skipped out into the living room. I admired the familiar contrast between her makeup - stark and bright, kohl-rimmed eyes with heavy black lashes, shiny purple lipstick and heavy blush across her fine cheekbones - and her preteen body, childishly angular and with a hint of a little girl's rounded belly. She still used too much perfume - we were working on that - but it was a common error of youth. Her wide, painted mouth split into a grin as she held out her hands. "Look what I found!" she exclaimed. "I'm going to wear them again!" She was holding a pair of kitty ears on a headband in one hand. And in the other, a long costume cat tail attached to a large buttplug. They were left over from two Hallowe'ens ago, the night I taught Karen what it really meant to be a prostitute. It was a night when she was forcibly stripped, had needle-sharp wires driven through her face, a vibrator jammed into her anus, and started trick-or-treating naked except for airbrushed body paint. It was a night that found her lying on a cold stone bench, gangbanged by a bunch of teenagers until she was spattered with semen, soaked in her own gooey secretions, and too sore and exhausted to walk. And a night that finally finished with her being covertly screwed by me on stage and filled with my ejaculate as dozens of adults applauded her. So thoroughly had Karen become indoctrinated that the ears and tail were not the trigger to relive the trauma of that night's molestation, mutilation, and multiple rapes, but rather souvenirs of what she had recast into a great achievement. With her blond mane brushed out and pulled into a single long ponytail she put on the headband. The tail presented a certain logistical problem that she solved by dropping the crotchless shorts and pulling them back on backwards. Spotting the tube of lubricant on the end table she squirted a generous amount onto the first two fingers of her right hand. Then without hesitation she bent from the waist, rested her left hand against the arm of the couch and, grunting softly in her throat, slowly pushed the lubed fingers into her anus. She was watching me as she gently twisted her fingers back and forth, a complex expression in her eyes, embarrassed yet defiant with a faint blush beneath her heavy makeup. More than a year of being naked in front of strangers - first unwillingly, later eagerly - had not made her unselfconscious or immodest. I knew deep down she was still terribly humiliated by the way her physical urges drove her, again and again, into this situation. But she had learned to ruthlessly crush down her completely normal reaction, instead focusing on the pleasure and the release she needed so badly. She would tell herself over and over that she was a whore, and whores had no right to keep their bodies private. So when Karen locked eyes with me, I gave her what she needed - a smile and a nod of approval as the elementary-school-aged child used her two fingers to lubricate and loosen her anus in front of an adult and her own little sister. And when she withdrew those fingers and found nothing handy to wipe them on, she hardly hesitated before bringing them to her lipsticked mouth and sucking them clean. Then, wincing only slightly, she slowly pushed the buttplug home, sighing with pleasure and relief as her sphincter contracted around the narrow neck. Karen straightened slowly, the cheeks of her ass flexing as she got used to the familiar intrusion. She craned her neck to look at the leopard-spotted faux-fur tail that now rose from her buttcrack. It curved upwards in a shallow S-curve, the tip waving in the air at about the level of her shoulder blades. Finally we were ready, or almost. Out the window the westering sun was shining over the lake, with only a few high cirrus clouds in the sky. Despite the bright day I knew the air was cool; there had been a little frost in the shadows that morning. I told Renee to put a jacket on. I knew there was no point in telling Karen. She pranced around the room, looking over her shoulder to admire her tail, figuring out how to make it twitch by clenching her butt muscles. I filled a hip flask with watermelon vodka. At the last minute Renee had to dump out her backpack. She put a book back in and slung it over her shoulder. Then Karen had to root around in her weekender case until she found a small clutch bag on a thin gold shoulder chain. Finally we were out the door. As I expected, Karen caught her breath as the chill breeze played across her nearly-naked body. Goosebumps raised on her arms and shoulders and her nipples crinkled and poked stiffly against the gauzy green fabric of her nightie. But if anything, the cold seemed to arouse her further. One hand stole underneath to cup her mound, from where she knew she could coax heat. "Uh-uh," Renee said with a wicked glint in her hazel eyes but a schoolteacher's tone in her voice. "Hands off the babycunt. If you start getting too whory too soon..." And from the pocket of her denim jacket she produced a pair of pink fur-lined handcuffs. Karen blushed bright red, but she smiled, pleased I was sure that her little sister was watching out for her. Then I offered her the flask. The twelve-year-old sniffed cautiously then took a tiny sip, and then a larger swallow. She coughed as the liquor burned its way to her stomach and began warming her from inside. "See?" I said. "Just like Hallowe'en. Remember how scared you were to be naked?" "Was not!" Karen shot back, which was no way true but I knew she had suppressed the worst of her memories from that night. "Anyway, that was so long ago - I was just learning to be a whore then." We walked down my driveway and crossed the street heading for the common. The first mowing of the season hadn't yet happened and the ankle-high grass rippled in waves from the breeze. The neighborhood association had installed some playground equipment since the girls had last visited and when she saw it, Karen broke into a graceful run, her tail lashing back and forth. Renee followed after, her short legged-stride eating up the distance surprisingly quickly. There were three teen boys sitting at a nearby picnic table. They were passing a joint around and two of them were smoking cigarettes as well. At first a couple of little girls on the merry-go-round were beneath their notice, but eventually one did a double-take. He said something to the others and then all six eyes were fixed on Karen's nubile body. After a few spins Renee jumped off and ran to the monkey bars. Karen followed her as they scrambled up to the top. When Renee swung down to hang upside down from her knees she was careful to clamp her skirt between her thighs. But when Karen joined her she just let her teddy float free, hanging her thin arms down until it fell right off her onto the grass below, leaving her slim torso and perky pale breasts exposed. "Whoa!" exclaimed one of the teens as Karen giggled and made her titties bounce and shimmy. The teens glanced at me uncertainly as Karen reached up and swung herself down to the ground. She bent provocatively from the waist to pick up her discarded garment and clutch, incidentally making it perfectly clear that the tail was emerging from her ass, not attached to clothing. She didn't put the teddy back on, just carried it negligently in one hand as she strode over to where the boys were seated, the pale skin of her bare shoulders bright under the afternoon sun. The boys' eyes were fixed on her high, bouncing breasts as she walked up to them and chirped, "Hi! I'm a whore! Would you like me to suck on your penis for twenty dollars?" The two cigarette smokers almost swallowed their butts but the third, a slim black kid with well-muscled arms didn't seem surprised. "I know who you are," he smiled, taking a leather wallet from his hip pocket. "Doncha remember me?" "Uh-uh," Karen said, "but that doesn't matter." The boy stood and then it was clear how tall he was. Karen had been shooting up so fast she was less than a head shorter than me now, but as she stepped over to grind her almost-naked body against him, the top of her blond head barely reached his clavicle. "Ooo," she cooed, a professional smile fixed on her face as she looked up at him, "I bet you have a big penis!" She continued to press herself against him as he removed a bill from his wallet and pressed it into her hand. During the brief negotiation Renee had dropped from the monkey bars and strode up just as Karen stepped back. She took the money and Karen's clutch bag from her big sister's hand, and put both in one of the zipper compartments of her backpack. Karen tossed her teddy carelessly onto the picnic bench and pushed the boy to sit down next to it. Then without ceremony she dropped to her knees and within seconds had expertly extracted a thick, circumcised penis. "Oh, I do remember you!" she exclaimed as she held it in her hand, moving it from side to side gently as it pulsed towards full erection. I looked harder at the boy and then I recognized him, too. He had shot up and filled out some, but he had been the first one to stick a cock in Karen at the start of her premiere gangbang, lying on a cold stone bench in a backyard not 300 yards from here. I laughed to myself when I realized that Karen had recognized not his face, but his cock. Which was kind of amazing in itself since she had seen 30 that night and hundreds more since. Karen bent her head and there was a familiar gulping sound as she stuffed her mouth. If the boy had grown up, his organ had grown out some - Karen had a wide mouth but even so her lips were stretched tight around the veiny girth. Her nostrils flared and her jaw muscles flexed as she went to work with all the skill of an experienced fellatrix. Her shoulderblades shifted as she settled with one arm resting on the boy's thigh and the other grasping his shaft, thumb working gently along the underside. Her slim back was straight, the pads of her toes just peeking out from under her butt. The tail emerging from her rectum swung lazily back and forth as her head began to bob. Her cheeks hollowed and loud slurping and snorts of breath filled the air as the brown veined shaft emerged from her mouth shiny with spit. Karen's blue eyes were half-lidded, dreamy, as she performed an expert blowjob. She inched her lips forward until her mouth pressed against her gripping hand, then sucked hard and withdrew. Her cheeks bulged as she plunged down again and air burped out around her lips. From time to time she paused to lick around the dark purple bell-end or kiss her way up and down the shaft. As she stopped to delicately pick a stray pube off her tongue she let her bent legs splay outwards so she could press her sex against the grass. Her free hand left the boy's thigh and went behind her. She groped for the base of the buttplug protruding from her anus, found it. I confess, I was doing a little pocket pool as I watched Karen do to herself what I had done to her not far from here as I coerced her to suck her first cock not my own. Her muffled grunts as she twisted and pulled at the buttplug were not distress, though, but desperate arousal. And it was contagious. Well, at least to me. Renee shrugged free of my grasp which I realized had been too tight on her shoulder. Bored by the sight of her sister having sex with some random person yet again, she sat down on the grass, took her book out of her backpack and began to read. The boy, meanwhile, had taken Karen's head in his large hands and was gently urging her to bob faster. "Oh, yeahhhh," he breathed, "Suck that cock, bitch. Nasty little white cunt, suck it. Cocksucking whore, here it comes, get ready..." His words electrified the slender sixth-grader. She started bouncing in place, crushing her sex against the damp ground and sucking even harder. Within seconds the boy threw his head back and groaned long and low. Karen's eyes opened wide. She pulled back until her lips were sealed around the rim of his glans. The brown shaft visibly pulsed as her mouth was filled, yet again, with hot semen. As the boy relaxed, Karen carefully pulled free. She raised her head and opened her mouth, proudly displaying the pool of milky goo around her tongue. She had learned that men liked to see that. She closed her mouth and tilted her head back. Her throat worked once, twice. And then she reopened her mouth, showing it empty. "Yummy!" she warbled, getting to her feet a little shakily. Then, turning to the other two teens who had watched the brazen sexual act with rising incredulity, "What about your friends? Do they want a whore?" That was the cue for the clown-car moment, with scrambling for money and then jockeying for position. Karen was breathless, giggling and sighing with pleasure as four hands caressed her bare skin, squeezed her titties and tweaked her swollen nips, so it fell to Renee as she stuffed more bills into her backpack to say, "She has more than one sex place." She got up and wordlessly handed one boy a foil-wrapped condom. She shook her head disgustedly as she returned to her book. "Dopes." I laughed aloud. If anyone looked out a window of the houses surrounding the common I hoped they wouldn't realize what they were seeing - a naked preteen kneeling on the picnic table, light green shorts dangling from one bare ankle, with a boy standing on each bench penetrating her fore and aft. Karen choked as their uneven rhythm pushed a blunt cockhead against her glottis, yelped as another bounced off her cervix, grunted and moaned and mumbled "Fuck me, fuck my babycunt!" around a mouthful of cock. Her moans got more urgent as one boy gripped her ass hard enough to leave fingermarks and started thrusting fast and hard. She spit out her mouthful of teen cock. "Oh...oh...oh...oh, oh, oh, OH, OH OH OH OHhhhhhhhh..." She trailed off into a moan tinged with frustration as the boy shuddered and filled the condom before she was ready. Karen reached for the erection bobbling in front of her nose but its owner was there first. His fist was a blur and before the twelve-year-old could react it erupted. A long stream of jizz arced to plop right on the part in her blond hair and dribble down the center of her forehead. The next hit her square on the bridge of her slightly upturned nose. She jerked involuntarily and the third struck her right eyebrow and gummed her heavily mascara'd lashes. A final shot painted across her other cheek. "Why'd you do that?" she looked up reproachfully. Her voice trembled as her hips still bucked, trying to milk a last bit of pleasure from the wilting penis that even now slid out of her juicy quim. "The sex movies all end like that," Renee contributed from her seat on the ground. Her face was emotionless as she looked over the top of her book, watching the boys as embarrassment overcame their sated lust and her naked older sister got shakily to her feet and began to pull her scanty clothing back on. "Careful you don't get squirt on it," she said flatly and watched as Karen bent forward to carefully don the teddy again, leaving the fresh semen decorating her face unsmeared. I refused to loan her my handkerchief - some other guy's jizz, gross - and for no particular reason I also insisted she not wipe her face with her fingers and lick them clean. I decided I wanted her to arrive at Paul's with fresh cum still dripping from her face. Just for fun. Dressed again, or at least wearing what she had left my house in, Karen smoothed her hands down the teddy, stopping to tweak her nipples. Her lipstick was smeared and there was a purple smudge on one front tooth. Her saucy smile didn't reach her blue eyes. "Thank you, your penises were great!" She blew kisses at the three boys and then turned. An exaggerated model walk made the tail swing from side to side. I waited for Renee to put her book away and get to her feet. She took my hand as we followed. We caught up. Karen was walking with her right hand at her crotch. Her clitoris was plainly visible through the pale green fabric as a dark bud standing out against the paleness of her vulva. She was flicking her fingers back and forth across it as she walked. A small patch of wetness was forming below where the fabric was adhering to her moist inner labia. Renee noted that her big sister was masturbating and reached into her jacket pocket, jingling the chain of the handcuffs warningly. Karen guiltily snatched her hand away, but I told Renee to let be. I knew Karen would never be able to bring herself off this way, and it amused me to watch her frustrate herself. I took the older girl's hand briefly and brought it too my nose, sniffing deeply and theatrically. "Mmm, fresh-fucked whore cunt!" I exclaimed. Karen's ears turned pink with embarrassment but when I released her hand it went right back between her legs. We walked partway up one of the radial streets that spoked off the ring around the common then turned across an undeveloped lot, slogging through waist-high grass gone to seed and some light brush. At least I slogged. Renee was hopping and jumping along, not much more than head and shoulders showing above the wild growth. Karen, on the other hand ...I had to grab her forearm a couple of times as she stumbled, her attention increasingly focused on coaxing pleasure from her heating love button. Finally we stepped across a property line into someone's well-kept yard, under the shade of the line of mature pines that marked the back boundary of the cleared land making up the neighborhood. We stayed close to the trees until we reached Paul's family's property. Their lot was L-shaped, continuing behind that of their neighbor's and screened from it by a thick tangle of blackberry bushes. On that part of the lot was either a large shed or a small barn, depending I suppose on how rural one felt. It was old, probably older than the neighborhood. A power line ran from the main house to a security light mounted up near the roof peak, and light inside glowed through gaps in the old plank walls. As we walked up someone struck a power chord on an electric guitar and the light dimmed as it reverberated. Karen had been walking slower as her fingers between her legs moved faster. As we reached the barn she stopped entirely. As Renee peered with interest through a knothole just above her eye level, Karen leaned her forehead against the wall. A glob of cum had run down and a thick droplet swung from the end of her nose before sticking across her painted lips. Her eyes were closed as she reached inside the leg of the loose, flimsy shorts and she gasped as she pushed her first two fingers into her juicy cunt. She began grunting low in her throat as she moved the fingers in and out slowly, seeming to savor the friction of her digits against her tight vaginal walls. At full penetration she ground the heel of her hand against the twisted knob of her clit. The tail quivered, magnifying the vibration of her buttocks. The twelve-year-old was really getting into her masturbation, ignoring her younger sister and me. I leaned down to blow gently in one flushed ear, then asked her "Do you get whory like this at school?" That close, her perfume didn't completely cover the heavy odor of the drying semen on her face. I could also smell the faint odor of perspiration from her recent exertion, and riding on that the piquant smell of her arousal. Her seeping cunt made a delicious counterpoint to the astringent scent of pine and damp loam in the cool, early spring air. Karen's blue eyes popped open wide and she straightened, looking around as if she had momentarily forgotten where she was. Then she focused on me. "Yessss..." she hissed, as she pushed her fingers home again and her eyelids fluttered closed. She swallowed. "Yes," she repeated, "Sometimes. My babycunt's so hot, all the time, but mostly...mostly I'm not a whore until after school but sometimes there's a whore and she has to fuck but I can't fuck so she...I go in the bathroom and...like this...oh, oh, ah!" It weirded me out to hear Karen referring to herself in the third person...no, as if she were two different people. I mean, I guessed it made a kind of demented sense. She had felt childish guilt at even her normal fumbling initial attempts at playing with herself, thanks to her religious indoctrination. It was weird, she'd been susceptible to that in a way that Renee - whether due to age or temperament or some combination - seemed entirely immune. She had felt guilt and shame before I had caught her at it, before I discovered her extremely precocious levels of sexual response and desire, and before I had made the snap decision to leverage that shame to keep her from telling she had caught me molesting her little sister. By the time I had convinced her that her literal God-given destiny was to be a preteen prostitute, and then raped her repeatedly myself before forcing her to sell her tender barely-pubescent body to strangers - by the time all that was done she was a slave to the ravening sexual appetite the mental and physical abuse had created in her, and yet she felt a soul-deep guilt for engaging in perverse acts, even if supposedly ordained by God for her, that she knew, just knew were sick and wrong and evil. At times I had worried that the child was going to have a mental breakdown under the pressure of this unresolvable dilemma (well, unresolvable so long as she didn't simply talk to some other adult about it). So it wasn't completely surprising she had created this extreme compartmentalization as a defense mechanism. "Well, Paul said he really wants you to be his whore. I bet his dick will feel a lot better than your fingers." "Yeah..." Karen moaned, but then my words seemed to penetrate. "Yeah!" She took off in an awkward, waddling trot with her hand still jammed between her legs. "Karen, wait!" Renee called after her but it was too late. Karen darted around the side of the building to the open door. "Paul, come fuck me, I'm so..." Karen's voice cut off abruptly and there was the sound of a body hitting the ground. I ran after. Karen was lying on her stomach. She had tripped over a hay bale and her sandal-shod feet were up in the air draped across the block. Her ass poked up, the open crotch of her shorts revealing her creamy, rounded cheeks with the tail attached to the base of the butt plug sticking out of her ass. Karen pushed herself up on her hands. The spaghetti straps of her teddy were down her arms and one breast was exposed; on the other the fabric hem was caught on her nipple. Her mouth hung open, her face a picture of surprise and humiliation, and strands of hay stuck to the dollops of semen on her cheek. Paul was there. But so was the rest of his band, all six of them. They stood frozen in the middle of whatever setup they'd been doing in the improvised practice space. It was hard to say whether they or Karen were more shocked.