Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. This story is made available under a Creative Commons Attribution Noncommercial 3.0 Unported license. Please send feedback to rufusfugit at yahoo dot com. I write for enjoyment; my only payment is knowing that my writing has brought pleasure to others, so let me know what you think. All of my stories are at /files/Authors/rufusfugit and http://www.mrdouble.bz/htm/authors/rufusfugit.htm. New stories are posted on Mr. Double first. Membership has its privileges. I'd like to extend my thanks to the small group of deeply disturbed individuals who make up my fan base. :-) Also, please support asstr.org: bandwidth doesn't grow on trees. (For the original A House In Gross Disorder, see https://muse.jhu.edu/article/44333) Jenny's Couch Book IV: A House In Gross Disorder, part 12 (g solo, Fg, Fgg, gg, Mgg, mast, tg, pee, oral, bond, tort, body-mod, rape, prost, nc, cons) by Rufus Fugit "What's she doing?" Renee asked. The ten-year-old and I had our heads nearly touching as we stood over Lilah and peered down at her. I wasn't really sure. I mean, she was masturbating, that was obvious, but... The second-grader was sprawled on the floor. Her blue eyes were wide and glassy behind her spectacles. One bare foot thumped lightly on the hardwood floor, making the friendship bracelet tied around her skinny ankle jiggle and jump. In between the scrap of woven thread and the eyeglasses there was nothing but pale, sweaty skin. She was lying in a shallow red plastic washtub with her upper body half-propped on one of those reading cushions, the kind with arms. The bottom of her ribcage was starkly outlined on her pale form, with her belly deeply indented. Lilah'd always been thin but she was starting to look positively emaciated. You could count each rib clearly. Her breastbone and pelvis looked ready to erupt though stretched skin. Her legs were spread, knees bent, heels pressed against the floorboard. One hand was busy at her bare crotch. Three fingers made rapid circles against her clitoris. It stuck straight out from the apex of her vulva, a swollen pink little bud that she mashed from side to side, around and around. Her hair was greasy and she smelled unwashed. In her other hand Lilah held an ordinary straight pin, with a red ball on the end. She was jabbing it over and over into the pale skin of her belly, her chest, her tiny pale-pink nips. Her nipples were almost completely flush against the stretched skin of her chest, dime-sized circles barely darker than the surrounding skin with a tiny bead in the center. Her sweaty skin was dotted with dozens of little pinpricks. Not blood, she was barely penetrating the skin with the steel pinpoint, just tiny pricks showing where the point had gone in. She moved the pin at random up and down her body. "Ehn...ehn...ehn..." Lilah made a soft little high-pitched sound with each stick of the pin. And each time the point went in her masturbation became more frenetic. Gradually the rate at which she was stabbing herself increased and as it did her noises went up in pitch and volume. Lilah was still too young to be orgasmic - she just reached a point where pleasure shaded into irritation and then to pain. Most little children that had discovered masturbation would stop at that point, and maybe Lilah did too when she wasn't intoxicated. But now she kept going. Her legs started to thrash slowly. Fresh beads of perspiration appeared on her forehead. A bright flush began to spread across her breastbone, up to her neck and creeping down towards her cute little outie. And as her voice rose to a near-supersonic squeak I discovered why she was sitting in the washbasin. Piss sprayed out of her slit, splashing off her hand and dripping down her shaking thighs. Several spurts added to the small amount of liquid she was already sitting in. As her stream reduced to dribbles her voice quieted and her body stilled. Her hand fell away from her chest, leaving the pin upright and quivering, stuck directly into the center of her left nipple. Lilah closed her eyes, her taut belly rising and falling with slow, deep breaths. She appeared to be falling asleep, but then she raised her hand to her mouth and stuck three fingers dripping with urine between her chapped lips, withdrawing them slick with saliva. She pressed the fingers back between her skinny thighs, circling her irritated clitty. With thumb and forefinger of her other hand she plucked the pin from her skin. She held it up in the air, her eyes struggling to focus on the tiny bright object. And then - "Ehn...Ehn...Ehn" - she was off to the races again. Renee's nose wrinkled at the acrid reek of Lilah's urine, but there was a strange light in her eyes as she watched Lilah stick herself over and over. I put a hand on her shoulder. "It's her new trick," Moira said. I looked over to where she was lying on the couch. She was on her side, head propped on one hand. Her other hand was buried in Karen's cunt. The twelve-year-old was lying next to her, legs spread, naked. There was a trail of her clothes - sneakers, footie socks, tshirt, bra, skirt, panties - leading straight from the door to where she now lay supine, one foot dangling onto the floor and the other up in the air, her ankle on the back of the couch and the crook of her knee on Moira's bare hip. The newspaper Moira had put down under Karen's naked ass crackled softly as Karen writhed. The paper was there to protect the upholstery, and good thing, too. Her entire crotch was drenched. White cream covered her vulva. It oozed over her mound, clotting her sparse tuft of pubes and slowly running down to her belly. It streaked her slender thighs. There was a a stain on the newspaper the size of a dinner platter and growing. Karen gasped as Moira withdrew two fingers from the child's soaking quim. They came out covered with the child's cunt cream. Karen's blue eyes never left Moira's face as Moira raised her hand and slowly licked her fingers clean. Karen moaned softly as Moira trailed her nails over Karen's naked body. She dragged them over swollen nipples, tracing the outlines of Karen's nascent breasts, ran them back and forth across the flushed, sweaty skin of Karen's sternum and ribcage. Karen whimpered, tossing her head from side to side in a cloud of golden hair. Her eyes went wide, her lips parted and her back arched as Moira's fingers found her center again, and slid wetly in. More juice squelched thickly out of the little girl. Moira's thumb circled Karen's clitoris. The swollen bud almost seemed to strain towards the touch and Karen's whimper became almost a full sob as Moira made a series of feather-light taps against the empurpling flesh without ever rubbing. Karen's pelvis jerked as she attempted to force contact but Moira just lifted her thumb away while at the same time twisting her two fingers inside Karen's steamy channel. She had Karen right at the edge, had been holding her there for nearly ten minutes - fingerbanging the twelve-year-old, licking her fingers clean, reinserting them and teasing around Karen's clit. "Pleeeeease," Karen begged, her voice cracking. "Please, Moira...my babycunt...it's so hot, please..." "Soon, kitten," Moira crooned. But then she sat up and looked at me, all business. Or as all business as a naked young woman could be while molesting a twelve-year-old girl. She brushed her light-brown curls back behind one ear, leaving a smear of Karen's cunt cream high on her cheek. "She's not doing well," Moira said, pointing her chin at the little girl masturbating on the floor. I raised my eyebrows in inquiry. "She's spacing out. Can't do her work, even stuff she knew a few weeks ago. The school's been calling. They want her to see their psychologist, and a grief counselor." I nodded. I wasn't surprised. The school still believed this was depression, brought on by the unexpected death of Lilah's mother. But it had been coming ever since we'd taken Lilah with us into the woods. Well, ever since the first half-dose of Ecstasy Moira had fed her to keep her compliant as we turned her over to the camp of sex offenders to be molested and raped over and over. And Moira had continued drugging her ever since. The seven-year-old got a cannabis brownie every day after school, and god-knows-what-all else on the weekends. It was necessary. Rubin had crawled into a bottle and no longer took any notice of his daughter except to rape her himself. I wouldn't wish that on anyone, much less a seven-year-old who'd already lost her mother so cruelly, but if that came out the odds were high that everything else would as well. So we'd installed Moira as nanny, and she'd continued using the only tool she had to keep Lilah from telling. Because if Lilah told she'd tell everything, including how everyone in this room molested her whenever we felt like it. But there were limits to the drugs and abuse you could heap on a child without her breaking entirely, and it looked like we'd maybe passed that point. Fortunately, I'd been doing a little research. I slid my backpack off my shoulder and unzipped it. "Did you know it's ridiculously easy to home-school in this state?" I took out a sheaf of forms and a manilla file folder as I spoke. "You just notify the school and the state, and then you barely have to do anything else. Send in a progress assessment once a year, that's it. Come see." I walked into the kitchen and started spreading out paperwork on the table. Behind me I heard the slick sound of Moira's fingers withdrawing from Karen's tight, moist channel and the sixth-grader's prolonged groan of frustration. Then Moira joined me in the kitchen, shrugging into a knee-length terrycloth robe but not bothering to belt it closed. She washed her hands at the sink, then sat down with me. "Sign here, here, here, here, and here, and initial where I put the X." Behind me I heard the rhythmic slapping sound of Karen masturbating, her thin voice rising and falling in frustration as she chased the orgasm she could seldom catch on her own any more. Lilah's soft grunts and exclamations made a bizarre counterpoint. Renee wandered in from the living room and looked down at the papers spread all over the kitchen table. "What are you doing?" Since I was sitting she could put an arm around my shoulder. She leaned into me, her cheek brushing mine. Her thick brown hair was pulled back into a simple ponytail today. It was a warm day, one of the first really warm days of the season, so she had forsaken her cool-weather uniform of overalls and hiking boots. She was wearing a simple bright yellow sundress. It was apparently last season's as the hemline was well above her knees. I looked down. She was barefoot, having kicked off her shoes as soon as we got inside. There was a scab on one knee and a band-aid across the other. Curious, I ran a hand up the inside of her thigh. I felt nothing but smooth skin all the way up, until the edge of my palm came to rest against the soft pillows of her panty-clad vulva. As she wriggled away from my unquestionably improper touch I was able to turn my hand and curl my palm up against the front of her panties. Renee turned her head to whisper in my ear. "Perv." Indeed, the feel of the fourth-grader's warm little peach and the puff of cherry-scented air against my cheek caused the normal reaction and I squirmed slightly in my chair, but I hadn't been copping a feel of Renee's smooth little clam, or not only that. "I was just wondering," I whispered back, "how you were hiding your penis under your dress. It's so short, your big penis would be hanging out the bottom." "Duh," Renee rolled her hazel eyes at me. "They're in my backpack. I tried wearing one but it either hung out the bottom or stuck out the front." She pinched a bit of the cheap cotton at about bellybutton level and pulled it out, giggling as she demonstrated. I couldn't help picturing Renee as I had seen her so many times in the past year - naked, with her smooth muscular tanned limbs, her stocky torso and, lately, her new little boobies high on her chest. Thick brown hair mussed, skin flushed with arousal - and an adult-sized strapon sprouting from her crotch. I squirmed again, needing to adjust myself on the hard kitchen chair, and only then realized Renee was still waiting for an answer to her first question. "Lilah's, um, too whory to go to school any more," I said. "We're worried she'll start trying to have sex with, like, teachers and stuff or taking her clothes off in class. So from now on Moira's going to teach her here, at home." Renee snorted softly. Her hazel eyes were skeptical. "Teach her to be a bigger whore, I s'pose." Not long ago her contemptuous tone would have driven Moira into a violent rage but now she sat quietly, almost unnaturally still, eyes downcast. "But you were a whore when you were this little," Renee continued. "How'd your daddy do it?" Moira raised her head and her cloudy green eyes met Renee's but there was nothing of challenge in them. No challenge, no rage or anger, no sadness...nothing, really. When she spoke her voice was clear and even and without affect. "Daddy didn't need to do anything but ask. I loved my Daddy and I wanted to please him. An' he made me feel good. 'Leastways, at first he did. But I still loved him, an' I didn't want them to take him away like he said they would if I told. So I never did. An' that's why Daddy still loves me." Moira's gaze drifted away from Renee's. She brushed her hair behind her ear again and cocked her head as if listening, then gave a brief nod as if in confirmation. "Love you, too, Daddy," she said softly. Renee turned back to me. Her regard was as unemotional as Moira's, almost uncanny in such a young child, but the difference was you could see the mind behind it, could see the wheels turning in her head. What she lacked in life experience she made up in...well, I don't know exactly what. But I could see her thinking hard and reaching a conclusion. "Lilah's never leaving the house again, is she?" "Well, she won't be going to school but I'm sure she'll still be going out. She's even got a couple of regular customers and they'd miss her." Even as I said it, though, I realized Renee was maybe correct. She wouldn't be going out unaccompanied in any case. One of us would have to be with her. And that meant...I turned in my chair and put my hands on Renee's bare shoulders. "You know what? I have a surprise for you. But first we have to go shopping. Go put your shoes on, then go outside and wait by the car." Once Renee left I told Moira what I had in mind. She showed no reaction, but then, she didn't show much reaction to anything these days. "Load her up," I finished. "Give her another couple of brownies, a double dose of E, and if you have any muscle relaxers give her one of those, too." We had to make more than one stop and traffic was kind of heavy for a Saturday. Then Renee was hungry so we stopped for a burger, and it was more than an hour before we returned. When we walked in, the first thing I saw was the tangle of bodies and limbs on the couch. It took me a minute to make it resolve into the individual people. Karen and Moira were side by side, turned to face each other. Lilah was between them, but she was upside down. Her skinny legs were spread up in the air with her feet against the wall. Her spine was sharply curved and her head rested on the couch with her arms up and back so just her hands were over the edge of the cushion, clenching and unclenching randomly. Karen had one leg thrown over Lilah and her face was pushed into the older girl's crotch. Her hair was gelled with Karen's essence and stuck out at all angles. As Karen squeezed and released Lilah's head between her thighs I could see that Lilah's face was also thickly smeared. She opened her mouth like a little baby bird and extended her tongue to lap another heavy white glob oozing from between Karen's flushed labia. Her eyeglasses were askew on her face, one temple bar bent. Karen and Moira had their upper bodies pressed together. Karen's high, small breasts were enveloped by Moira's rounder, fuller figure. Side-by-side like this, the contrast between young adult and barely-pubescent child was striking. Though they were nearly the same height Karen was a wisp, all angles and long, coltish legs. They each had one hand on Lilah's thigh, keeping the little girl's legs widely spread. Their free hands roamed over each other's sweat-sheened bodies. They alternated between deep, slow, open-mouthed kisses and dipping into Lilah's tiny honeypot stretched open between them. Karen's quim smothered Lilah's grunts as they took turns driving their tongues into her tiny hole and biting gently - or not-so-gently - at her vulva. Moira's hand trailed down Karen's belly to her smooth mons. Karen gasped and threw her head back as Moira trapped Karen's oversized clitoris between her first two fingers. She tugged gently on the swollen knob, pulling it away from Karen's body, and then used her thumb to dig beneath the retracted hood and press directly onto the bulb. Karen drew a ragged breath and groaned aloud, "Oh, ohhhhhhh goddddd, god god godgodGOD!" Lilah coughed and sputtered as hot, pungent liquid flooded her face, filling her mouth and nose. Trails of clear-white cream squished out from where Karen's thin thighs pressed Lilah's head into the couch cushion, ran down over the little girl's already-saturated light blond hair, and pattered lightly onto the hardwood floor. As Karen's orgasm crested and slowly ebbed, the tension drained out of her lithe bare body. She slumped, her crotch covering Lilah's mouth and nose and pressing her head into the soaking couch cushions. Lilah's arms and legs began to flail as she struggled to breathe. Karen was oblivious. Her eyes were closed and her attention entirely on the waves of pleasure washing over her. Moira finally put a hand on Karen's shoulder and gently pushed her. The sixth-grader collapsed backwards onto the couch. Her swollen nipples quivered with her orgasmic aftershocks. Lilah coughed weakly, spittle and cunt juice smearing her lips, cheeks, and chin. Her glasses fell off and skittered on the floor. I gathered up the paperwork Moira had signed and started setting out our purchases on the kitchen table. From one bag I withdrew a set of Velcro cuffs. From another, a handful of short bungee cords. A ball gag. A pair of waxed bootlaces. A new black Sharpie marker. Some large gauze pads and packets of betadine wipes. A small bottle of rubbing alcohol. And finally, a large sailcloth needle, eight gauge, the largest I could find. It was about 4 inches long with a wicked beveled tip. Renee was practically jumping out of her skin, hopping from foot to foot in anticipation. "Are we ready? Are we ready? Can I?" "Lilah!" I called. "Come here." There was no real response from the little girl. Finally Moira grabbed her ankles and tipped her over into a backward somersault off the couch. She landed in a heap and made no move to stand until Moira hoisted her up under her armpits, turned her around and gave her a little smack on her bare butt to get her moving. She took about 2 steps then her feet tangled and she fell on her face. She lay on the floor giggling, her arms and legs moving weakly, uncoordinated. Moira stood, stooped, set her on her feet again. Her head lolled to one side, a stupefied grin pasted across her face. She took another step and there was a crunch. She lifted her foot and stared down at her broken eyeglasses. She had snapped off a temple bar and cracked the opposite lens. Then she overbalanced and fell down again. Still giggling, the naked seven-year-old pushed herself laboriously up to elbows and knees and started crawling towards the kitchen. Her head was down. Karen's ejaculate was still dripping off the end of her nose. Her skinny little ass was up in the air, twitching back and forth as she struggled. Even on all fours she could barely manage to make progress. Finally I just picked her up. She weighed almost nothing. Her arms and legs continued moving in some approximation of crawling, and that stoned, high-pitched giggle still came from beneath her mop of greasy, sticky blond hair. I sat Lilah in the center of the kitchen table, and had to immediately catch her as she fell backwards. I gently lowered her head to the table. Renee was already fastening a Velcro cuff around one skinny ankle. I did the wrists. Then, while Renee was using the bungee cords to secure the naked child, I picked up the ball gag. I bent down so we were eye-to-eye, though I was upside-down from her perspective. Her eyes were deeply bloodshot and the pupils were blown, with only a tiny ring of blue visible around them. "Open wiiiiiide," I crooned. That got a reaction. "Penis?" the second-grader warbled, craning her neck from one side to the other as if a cock might be hiding just out of her vision. "Penis? Penis?" she continued. "Penis? Penimmph?" I shoved the ball gag into her mouth, squeezing it to push past her teeth and then letting it expand to seat firmly and force her jaws open. I lifted her head to fasten the buckle. "Hrgh-hmph? Hrgh-hmph?" Lilah continued to try to talk. She showed no alarm at being gagged, nor at being restrained - Renee had finished and Lilah was now spread-eagle naked on the kitchen table with the fabric cuffs at wrists and ankles, and a bungee securing each cuff tightly to a table leg. "Almost ready," I said to Renee, who was now wringing the end of her ponytail in agitation. "Go wash your hands really well." I removed one bootlace from the package. I opened the rubbing alcohol, tore open a gauze pad and saturated it. I pulled the gauze along the length of the bootlace and over the needle. I waited for Renee to finish at the kitchen sink, then handed her the needle and the bootlace. At my instruction she sat down and began poking the lace at the eye of the needle. Meanwhile I took the Sharpie and bent over Lilah's naked body. I pressed my hand on her abdomen to hold her still. Then I used the marker to put a dot on her vulva, close to the very bottom on the outside of the bulge of the right lip. I put another dot at the same height on the inside, close to her vaginal opening. Her hymen was long gone, of course, and her insides glistened a raw, unhealthy-looking scarlet. There were fading bruises, pale yellow, sickly green, and lavender all over her vulva and thighs. I put another pair of dots near the top, just above where her clitoral hood ended, and a third pair in between the first two. Then I repeated the pattern on the left side. Through all of this Lilah remained passive. Her head rolled from side to side slowly. She attempted to lift it to watch but the effort seemed too much for the child and her head thumped back on the table. Drool was starting to leak from her mouth around the edges of the red ballgag. Her arms and legs twitched randomly. Finally, I tore open one of the betadine wipes and rubbed it all over Lilah's crotch, adding a bright orange stain over the bruising. Lilah made a muffled sound that might have been a giggle when I passed the wipe over the tiny bead of her clitoris. Up until this moment I'd been focused solely on each step - making sure I bought everything we needed, making sure Lilah was properly prepared, making sure Renee knew her part. Now, looking at Lilah spread-eagle, bound, and gagged, everything arranged between her skinny legs, the reality of what we were about to do washed over me. Most everything I had done for a year and more, starting from the moment I had ejaculated on Renee, and raised my eyes from her cum-glazed face to her big sister's horrified expression - it had all been compelled. I'd acted first to save my own ass, to keep my perverted lust for a nine-year-old child secret. And up until the moment I got Moira to sign the homeschooling declaration that had remained true. This, though - there was no need for this. And once done it could never be undone. And I paused to really think about what I was about to do. I paused, looking at Lilah's supine body, her totally flat chest, her bald, bruised cunny, her dazed expression - and arousal came roaring out of the darkness. Any doubts I might have felt were overwhelmed by the sudden heat in my groin. With Renee, I'd always been a tender lover. With Karen, even the rape and mental torture had been for a goal and I'd carefully restrained myself. But with this little girl it didn't matter. We could do anything we wanted and it didn't matter. And my sudden erection said, we would. "Okay," I said finally. Renee scooched her chair forward between Lilah's spread legs, getting as close as she could. I gently pinched Lilah's labia majora, stretching the right lip out from her body. I pointed at the dot on the outside bottom and Renee took the needle and placed it where I pointed. Or tried to. Her hand was shaking so badly she missed on three attempts. Finally I took the needle from her. The ten-year-old's breath was rapid and shallow and her face was flushed with excitement. "Calm down," I told her. "Find your center." That was what they said at her martial arts classes when the kids were hyper and not listening. Renee closed her eyes and clasped her hands in front of her as if she were saying grace. I watched her chest rise and fall as the little girl deliberately slowed her breathing. Gradually, the flush faded from her cheeks. After a minute she looked at me, her hazel eyes clear and her uncanny poker face back in place. She opened her hands and held them, palms down, just above the table. They were steady. I nodded approval. Renee picked up the needle and this time placed the point dead center on the black dot with no hesitation. She angled it carefully and then pressed. The pale skin of Lilah's peach dimpled, then rebounded as the skin was broken. Lilah's arms and legs jerked and the bungee clips rattled against the table legs. A squeak came from behind the ballgag as the needle slid into her flesh. The dot on the inside of her lip bulged, then tented. Renee's tongue crept out of the corner of her mouth in concentration and she got a tighter grip on the needle. She pushed harder, and the bright silver point broke through the skin dead center on the inner dot. I groaned, clutching myself. I couldn't help it. Renee spared a quizzical glance at me, then turned back. One inch, two, three of the steel emerged. A drop of blood grew around the shaft then trickled down onto the child's perineum. The needle slid free and Renee began to slowly pull the bootlace through the hole. The lace was thicker than the needle and even waxed, not as smooth. As it snagged and tugged at the fresh piercing, Lilah's drugged brain finally realized that something terrible was happening to her. Her body went rigid and she tried to kick but all she could do was jerk futilely at her bonds. She was too weak to maintain a pull against the elastic so after a second her heels thumped back on the table. She twisted her hips from side to side, but it was too late. The hole in her vulva was made and her struggles only served to make the pain worse as her movement tugged against the bootlace threaded through her cuntlip. She screamed, or tried to, but the ballgag reduced it to a pitiful sound, and once her lungs were emptied the gag made it hard to breathe. Her chest heaved as she fought for breath. Ill-fed, ill-treated, and drugged to the gills, the seven-year-old exhausted herself in less than a minute. She lay quiet, only now her face was bright red and tears poured from the corners of her eyes. I stopped Renee when all but about eight inches of the bootlace had been threaded through. She sat back, needle in her hand and her face glowing with excitement. Her eyes darted back and forth between Lilah's wounded cunny and her agonized expression. A smile of malicious glee danced on her lips. I used a fresh gauze pad to blot at the blood dripping from both holes, then pointed to the opposite black dot on the inside of her left lip. This time Renee pinched the pliant skin - probably harder than necessary - to stretch it. She aligned the needle carefully so it would emerge in the right place, and then slowly pushed. Again Lilah struggled and tried to scream. Again the pale flesh bulged a little, then a lot, then the beveled tip of the needle pushed through. Again a trickle of bright red blood ran down over the orange tint of the betadine. I caught movement and turned to see Moira coming to join us. She was still naked, padding barefoot across the floor. Behind her, Karen was limp on the couch, apparently asleep with her legs still spread wide and her arms thrown over her head. Moira pulled up a chair at Lilah's head and sat. She tenderly brushed Lilah's crusty hair back from her forehead. Lilah's eyes were wide and frantic, white showing all around the dilated pupils. She screamed into the ballgag as Renee began pulling the lace through the second hole. Moira placed her hands firmly on either side of the little girl's head and bent to kiss her as her struggles weakened. "Good whore," Moira murmured. "Inside Lilah's a good little whore." As Renee was pushing the needle through Lilah's tender cunny a third time the abused little girl passed out. She lost consciousness and at the same time lost control of her bladder. Renee leaped out of her chair, but not before a spray of hot urine caught her full in the face, and then spattered diagonally down her sundress as she jumped sideways. Urine soaked the already bloody gauze pads between Lilah's legs, puddled down the table and started dripping onto the floor. The acrid smell filled the kitchen, underlaid with the metallic scent of fresh blood. "Dammit! Fuck!" Renee yelled, then clapped her hands across her mouth and looked guiltily at me. "Sorry," she said meekly. "Where'd you learn that language?" I demanded sternly. "Sorry," she repeated. "From Raj's brother." "Well, you know better. Go in the laundry room and take off your dress, then wash your face and hands and wherever there's pee. Then we'll finish up." Renee bolted for the laundry room carved out of the space under the stairs. She was still cursing under her breath, which - once she couldn't see me - made me smile. While she washed up, I mopped piss from the table, the floor, and the chair where Renee had been sitting, and used a fresh betadine wipe to resterilize Lilah's thighs and her bulging clam. The child's most tender place was swelling further in response to the fresh insults. I heard the washing machine start and then Renee came back into the kitchen, wearing nothing but her Powerpuff Girls panties with Buttercup throwing a punch on the front. Her titties were high and proud on her chest. She looked at me and a hint of a smile crooked one corner of her mouth. She shimmied her shoulders, making the fat nipples crowning her mounds jiggle and bounce. I caught my breath and started to reach for her, but my ten-year-old lover danced back, smile erupting into a quick bark of laughter. She knew the effect she had on me. The laugh cut off and Renee was all business again, her face serious. "I put my dress in the wash," she informed us. Then she sat back down and was ready. Lilah moaned each time the needle poked a fresh hole in her vulva but never seemed to regain consciousness. Each time I felt a dizzying surge of arousal until I was perilously close to soiling my briefs. When we were done I had Renee blot up the last of the blood, and then lightly press a gauze pad over Lilah's vulva until the six piercings stopped oozing. Then I removed the ballgag and undid the bungee cords, not bothering to unfasten the velcro cuffs on her wrists and ankles, and carried her back into the main room where Karen was still lying on the couch, still naked, still deeply asleep. I gently laid Lilah atop the older girl. Karen half-woke, wrapped Lilah in a hug, murmured something unintelligible and began to snore. Lilah's head lolled to the side, her cheek coming to rest on Karen's left breast, her lips just grazing the swollen, cherry-sized nipple. After a moment she took it fully into her mouth and began to suckle. I sank down onto the couch myself, closed my eyes and just breathed deeply. Lilah slept for close to two hours. By then, Karen had dressed and gone. Her phone had pinged - the smartphone, not the feature phone Jenny and Rob had given her - reminding her that she had two appointments at the park. So she'd done her makeup hastily, dressed in her working clothes, and left. Renee's sundress was in the dryer and probably ready but she'd been in no hurry to dress. Instead she'd disappeared into the bathroom with her backpack and emerged with an addition. Her realistic-looking strapon, the flesh-toned seven-incher, sprouted from the top of her panties. Poor Buttercup was comically distorted by the twin globes of the scrotum. The bulbous glans lay just to starboard of her bellybutton, though it wobbled a bit when she walked. This wasn't a signal or a seduction - Renee just had become more comfortable with a penis than without. She got a book out of her backpack, belly-flopped on some pillows on the floor, and proceeded to read with her panty-clad butt up in the air. When Lilah stirred both Moira and I knelt by her side. Moira had dressed in a simple pale blue knee-length dress. A string of faux pearls nestled in her cleavage in the dress' open collar. Real ones on a simple gold stud were in her ears. Lilah's blue eyes were cloudy with sleep and a drug hangover. They roved over our faces. Then she scrubbed a hand across her face. She moved her hips slightly, then winced. "I had a bad dweam," she lisped. "There was a monster. He bit me. He bit my cunt." And just like that, the jarring incongruity of the tiny girl saying the filthy word in her soft lisp...every bit of sympathy I had evaporated and my erection came raging back. I looked down at Lilah's bare body. There were fading marks at wrists and ankles from the restraints. There was very little fresh bruising on her vulva, thanks to the sharpness of the needle and Renee's steady hand, but the swelling was becoming extreme. Her lips bulged up above her bald mound, so enlarged that she couldn't close her thighs. The taut skin pulled her slit wide open, revealing her clitoris peeking out from its hood, her urethral opening and her inner lips, now all partly obscured behind criss-crossing laces. Fortunately Moira was there, stroking Lilah's forehead tenderly. She helped the child to sit up on the couch. Lilah whimpered in pain as Moira helped her to her feet. Moira supported her with a hand around her skinny upper arm as she hobbled to the foyer. Moira switched on the light there and turned Lilah to face the full-length mirror in the entry. Lilah gaped at the reflection of her naked body. Moira knelt and spoke softly to the seven-year-old. "There was a monster, sweetie. The whore monster came, because he could smell your whore cunt. And he bit it because he knows little-girl-whore cunts taste so good. But look, he left you a present." She ran her index finger lightly up and down the laces pierced through her bald clam. "A...a present?" Lilah quavered. She looked like she was about to be sick. Renee had looked up from her book when Lilah woke and now she got up and knelt next to Lilah. Her stocky frame and olive skin was in stark contrast to Lilah's pale, emaciated form. "Uh-huh, the whore monster knows you want to be your daddy's whore, and only let your daddy fuck your whore cunt. So now you can leave your little cunt open for daddy," Renee picked up the ends of the laces dangling between Lilah's thighs. "Or if you are going whoring, you can close it UP!" And she pulled, hard. The laces tightened, pulling through the six fresh holes punched in Lilah's cuntlips and smashing them together, compressing her gaping, swollen slit to a crooked line. Just the tip of her clitoris squeezed out like a pomegranate seed at the top. Lilah yelped in anguish. Her legs gave way and she would have fallen except for Moira's grip on her. Lilah sobbed as Renee tied a perfect bow, sealing Lilah's cunny. I figured that being relatively undrugged for the first time this weekend combined with the sight of her mutilation just overwhelmed the little girl. Her face screwed up and her sobs became screams. Moira let her fall and she curled up on the floor in a fetal position. She clapped her hands over her violated privates, then screamed louder and jerked them away as the touch brought a further jolt of agony. Renee's tug had ripped open the fresh wounds and blood began to trickle down over her thighs and soak into the round throw rug in the entryway. Renee just looked exasperated. She never could stand a crybaby. She went down to her knees next to Lilah. The first hint I had that she didn't really grok the extent of Lilah's upset was when she jerked her panties down to her thighs, fisted her strapon with one hand, and grabbed a handful of Lilah's hair with the other to jerk her head up. The ten-year-old was a vision with her still-straight figure, her barely-formed breasts...and an adult-sized penis sprouting from between her legs. My breath caught and I bent forward, clutching myself. Renee slapped Lilah across the face back and forth, back and forth, with her cock. Maybe she expected Lilah to react like Renee's big sister, Karen, when presented with a penis anywhere near her mouth and to gobble it down like a good child prostitute. Maybe she thought this was an extension of the last time she had punished the second-grader's cunt, whipping it bloody but giving Lilah the closest thing to a climax her immature nervous system could withstand. In any case, she was too inexperienced to read the situation accurately. Lilah screamed and tried to twist free, screamed louder as her scalp was yanked back in Renee's grip. Finally losing patience with the noise, Renee stopped cock-slapping the child and simply stuffed her latex erection into Lilah's mouth. With one hand in her hair and the other around the back of Lilah's thin neck she pulled, at the same time as she thrust her hips forward. Lilah's scream choked off as the glans hit the back of her throat and pushed past. Her throat expanded as Renee's cock lodged there, cutting off her wind. Lilah's eyes bulged and she grabbed at Renee's wrists, then slapped ineffectually at her, trying to free herself. Renee was only ten but she was strong from a year of martial arts and Lilah was a small, weak seven, and still half-dazed from pain and drugs. Renee was able to shrug off Lilah's struggles and shimmy out of her panties. With the second-grader's jaws stretched to the limit, Renee pulled her across the room by her hair and her impaled mouth. I couldn't help but laugh at the way she waddled with Lilah's writhing body dragged between her legs. Lilah kicked feebly and left a trail of blood across the hardwood. We'd have to mop that up before it marred the finish. Lilah was nearly unconscious by the time Renee managed to drag her back over to me on the couch. Her eyes were rolled back in her head. Her face was purple and her lips were blue. Renee stopped, momentarily nonplussed by the sight of me with my pants open and desperately flogging my meat. Watching her all but choke Lilah to death was almost more than I could stand. I thought I was going to explode, but I managed to force down my lust, at least partially. "Give her here," I rasped out. Renee straightened up, now with both hands wound into Lilah's hair, and pulled. I saw Renee's little biceps swell as she fought against the suction of the younger child's gullet. Finally, with a wet pop! her strapon fell from Lilah's mouth, dripping mucus. Lilah convulsed, coughed, drew a huge shuddering breath, coughed again, spraying phlegm and spittle all down her front and onto her bloody snatch. I bent and got my arm under her chin. I lifted, dragging her up onto the couch with me. She ended sitting half-sideways between my thighs with her side pressed against my chest. Her skin was papery dry and fire-hot. She stank of fear and fresh blood. I sensed her gathering her strength to scream or cry again so I squeezed my elbow around her throat, just a little, just to let her know what I could do if I wanted. Her eyes were wide and wild with fear and despite the heat boiling off of her, the child was shivering violently. "There, there, little whore," I murmured, "Inside Lilah's a dirty little whore, isn't she?" Lilah's teeth were chattering now and she barely managed to stutter out, "Inthide Lilah thtays behind the door," but the rote response seemed to calm her a little. "Good little whore," I praised her. "Now let Renee show you what the whore monster gave you." Renee stepped close, between my open legs. She was naked now except for the strap-on and also shivering, but from excitement not trauma. I laid my free hand against her cheek briefly, then slid it down over her shoulder, a quick flick of my thumb over her erected nipple and then to caress her side. Her skin was hot and damp and I could smell her sweat and the sharp, sweet odor of her preteen arousal. She stared down at the younger girl held immobile in my relaxed chokehold. "How old are you?" she demanded. "Theven," Lilah quavered. Tears were starting to leak from her eyes again. "Are you a whore?" "Yeth." "Do you like it when your daddy fucks you?" "Yeth." "Do you want other men to fuck you too?" "No!" Lilah struggled briefly, shaking her head. "Well that's what the whore monster's gift. Look at your little whore cunt. Look at it!" Renee insisted. She bent to grab Lilah's bare ankles, lifting them and spreading her legs wide. Fearfully, Lilah looked down at her mutilated vulva. Renee wrapped her hand around the latex shaft of her penis and thrust her hips forward. The rubber glans bumped the little bow knot of the bootlace tying Lilah's slit closed. "See?" Renee said. She swiped the strapon up and down the length of Lilah's vulva, snagging each part of the lace where it criss-crossed. Lilah winced and clearly the sight of blood oozing from her multiple piercings was making her queasy, but she did see. Renee angled her penis up at Lilah's face. She stared at the blood-smeared latex as if hypnotized. "See?" Renee repeated. Lilah nodded slowly. "My cunt...you can't fuck my whore cunt." "That's right! Good girl!" Renee sounded just like her teacher praising a slow student who'd finally understood a lesson. "You tie it just like your shoe." "Mithter Bunny Rabbit," Lilah murmured. Renee rolled her eyes. Mister Bunny Rabbit was for babies. She let go her strapon, letting it lie across Lilah's thigh. She took the ends of the lace and slowly pulled until the bowknot undid. Lilah watched intently. "Then," Renee said, "when you're ready to get fucked..." Renee dug her index fingers into Lilah's bound opening. Lilah squealed as Renee pulled Lilah's cuntlips apart. The seven-year-old struggled in my arms as the laces dragged through the holes. Her blue eyes went wide as Renee aligned her strapon with her opening, or rather where Lilah's vaginal opening would be if her vulva wasn't so terribly swollen. The molded penis looked absurdly large butted up against a seven-year-old's tiny quim. Then Renee threw her weight forward. "AAAAAIIIEEE!" Lilah screamed in agony as the strapon dug into her dry. The only lubricant was her own blood. She thrashed feebly as each molded ridge and vein of Renee's cock was forced through her swollen, abused labia. Renee grabbed Lilah around the waist to get more leverage. Her fingers dug into Lilah's pale skin. "OWWW!" Lilah cried as Renee stopped with more than half the length of the rubber strapon outside, separating the crotches of the two children. She had plumbed the full depth of Lilah's seven-year-old vagina and was butting up against her immature cervix. Renee started thrusting. Lilah moaned and cried, frog-kicking her legs as each movement of the shaft between her wounded vulva brought a fresh flare of pain. Renee's eyes were hooded and shiny. Her face was flushed, tendrils of brown hair clinging to her round cheeks and her sweaty forehead. Her mouth was open and her breath came in harsh pants. A shaft of afternoon sunlight slanted across her bare body. Her plum-sized breasts jiggled and bounced violently. "Fuck...fuck..." she was muttering. "Fuck the whore...fuck...fuck...oh...fuck...ooo...whore...oh...ooo!" Renee was climbing to her peak but I beat her there. I'd been jacking it the whole time as I kept one arm clamped around Lilah's throat. I was rubbing my erection against the naked child's side, feeling her futile struggles. Watching my ten-year-old lover rape a seven-year-old was finally too much. "Argh!" I grunted as a stream of cum shot out of my penis. It hit Renee low on her cheek, right at the corner of her mouth, and slashed down across her neck and one sweaty breastlet. My abdomen cramped with the force of my climax as more jizz burned the length of my shaft. It painted Renee's belly, dripped down to the top of her smooth mound. Another shot landed on the shaft of her appliance, and the rest dribbled onto Lilah and over my hand. Renee blinked as the hot cum landed on her skin but her concentration was unbroken. "Take my cock!" she cried. "Take it, you stupid little whore! Fucking whore, fucking, ooo, ooo, oooOOOoooOOO!" Her legs started to shake uncontrollably and she fell forward, sandwiching Lilah between us. Lilah stiffened as Renee's cock shoved painfully against the entrance to her undeveloped womb, then went limp. She had passed out again. Renee buried her face against my shoulder, her breath coming in great gasps. I turned loose of my aching organ and hugged her to me, rubbing some jizz into her back. She got her knees against the couch to get a little leverage and raised her butt, lessening the terribly painful pressure against Lilah's insides, but then started a slow, corkscrewing thrust, shivering and moaning quietly with the aftershocks of her climax. I pawed at Renee's hair, getting a grip on her heavy ponytail to pull her head back, and kissed her on the mouth, sucking her tongue into mine. After a few seconds she broke the kiss. She swiped the back of her hand across her cheek, smearing the streak of semen into a shiny coating, then snuggled back against me. "Anyway," she mumbled, "that's how you get fucked, whore." To be continued...