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   (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 13 (Mg, Fg, M+g,
tg, ped, cons, drugs, prost, body-mod, exhib, bond, anal, oral, gleeful
mockery of the holy sacrament of matrimony)

   The bride wore a simple floor-length dress of emerald green, shimmery
velour fabric.  The color set off her eyes wonderfully.  Her fingernails
were painted in a matching shade.  Her toenails, just peeking out from
beneath the hem, were the same.  The dress had a semi-structured bodice
that laced all the way up from navel to a high collar.  The bride's makeup
was subdued but expert.  Her hair was pulled back from her face in ringlets
of medium brown.

   The other bride's makeup was brighter, more stark, but just as expertly
applied.  Her finger- and toenails gleamed with pink polish.  Her hair was
swept up in a complicated chignon, with loose tendrils framing her face and
high forehead.  She wore a vintage off-white lace veil, a pink leather
collar, a leash of silver links, and nothing else.  The color of her veil
matched the gooey cream that heavily clotted her sparse tuft of pubic hair.
Her nail polish matched her vulva which was a delightful flushed pink
beneath smears of thick liquid, and more drips and runnels decorated her
coltish thighs.  Fresh cum was spattered across her small, upturned
breasts. She was trembling with nervousness and arousal, making the heavy
drop depending from one swollen nipple quiver and dance.  Shivering, Karen
took her first halting step down the aisle to where Moira waited.  Her
little sister held her leash.

   It had all started with a question on what was otherwise a normal
Saturday morning.  I'd checked into the motel first thing, went out for
breakfast, then came back and waited.  The girls arrived shortly
afterwards. Karen was wearing a scarlet jumper and hi-top sneakers.  Renee
had on a knee-length vintage dress, dark purple with a tiny paisley
pattern, and suede leather flipflops with braided rope straps.  Lately the
ten-year-old had been forsaking her preferred overalls and hiking boots
more and more.  Both girls' hair was in French braids, Karen's blond and
Renee's dark brown.  Karen smiled shyly at me as I closed and locked the
door behind the children.  She shrugged off her backpack and carried it
with her into the bathroom.

   Renee was her usual irrepressible self.  As soon as the door was closed
she crossed her arms and lifted her dress up over her head and dropped it
on the floor.  She wasn't wearing panties, only a sports half-cami to
cradle her newly-sprouted breasts.  "I'm feeling real slutty this morning!"
she declared, throwing herself onto my bed and spreading her sturdy thighs
wide.  Using index and middle fingers of one hand in a vee she spread her
hairless vulva to reveal the moist pink inside and the dark red opening to
her center.  Her clit was already peeking out from under its hood, the tip
pointing up and a bit to one side, snugged into the little notch both girls
had at the apex of their slits.  "Get over here and eat my pussy!" she
said, dissolving into giggles.  I made a note of her new vocabulary word
but chose not to ask her about it at that moment.

   Ten minutes later I was reclining against the pillows.  Renee was
squatting over me.  She held my erection in one hand, pointing it upwards
as she aligned the head with her butthole.  I licked my lips, still tasting
the preteen's light, slightly spicy flavor.  She grimaced as she flexed her
poop chute, then grunted as her sphincter dilated.

   "Mmmmmm." I closed my eyes as my cockhead was enveloped by the hot,
slightly greasy texture of the fourth-grader's anal passage.  She must have
lubed herself before leaving the house that morning.

   Renee's thigh and calf muscles tensed, showing the definition of a year
of martial arts, and her jaw flexed as she controlled her descent. 
"Ooouuurgh," she groaned as she slowly sank down my flesh pole, until with
a sigh her butt came to rest with her full weight on my thighs and my full
length buried in her rectum.  "Ohhh yeaaaaah," she sighed again as she
wriggled into a more comfortable position, pushing her feet forward until
her knees were almost in my armpits.

   I'd been having anal sex with Renee since she was nine, more than a year
now, and she had quickly learned to enjoy the full thickness and length and
heat of an adult penis moving inside her.  She began a slow corkscrewing
motion with her hips and ass, moaning and grunting softly.

   I was in heaven as always, feeling Renee's sphincter clench and release,
clench and release around the base of my cock and slide up and down in
short little strokes as her warm little butt shifted from side to side.  I
lifted her half-cami, bunching it under her arms and freeing her new
titties.  They stood out high and proud on her chest, paler than her dark
olive tan.  They were the size of plums but almost all nipple.  I pinched
them lightly with thumbs and three fingers, tugging them up just a little.
Renee smiled and her eyelids fluttered.  I smiled back.  "Oh, Renee, you're
so good at sex.  Do you love doing it?"

   "Yah," her smile widened into a rare grin.  She was normally such a
serious little girl.

   I bounced my butt a little, momentarily forcing my cock even deeper into
her ass.  Her eyes widened and her mouth opened in an O of surprise.  "Do
you want to fuck super hard?"

   "No," she panted.  "I want you to play with my cock!"

   I put one arm around Renee with my palm low on her back and moved my
other thumb up and down in her glistening slit, just parting her inner
labia and pressing on her erected clitoris.  "Well, where is it?"

   The expression on Renee's face was almost comical when she looked down
at herself.  She was so used to wearing a strapon that she apparently had
forgotten she hadn't put it on this morning - I assumed, lest it spoil the
drape of her skirt.

   That's when Karen emerged from the bathroom.  Her face was done - smoky
dark eyelids, mascara wings at the corners of her blue eyes, sharp
highlights making cheekbones where her preadolescent face was still
unformed, lips blood-red and wet-looking - but she was naked.  She set her
backpack on the bed next to where I was intimately joined with her little
sister and sat, curling one bare leg under her.  "Here it is, Renee." She
reached into her pack and came out with Renee's black Feeldo.  It was
smooth, firm black latex around a hard plastic core.  It was in roughly the
shape of a checkmark, though the short branch was a stubby ovoid with a
narrow neck connecting it to the main shaft.  The narrow bit was also
corrugated like a bendy straw, and serving the same purpose.

   Renee's face was already a little flushed and glowing from the exertion
of riding on my adult cock so if she blushed I couldn't say but she
definitely looked a little embarrassed.  She took the appliance from her
big sister then raised up on her knees, letting my penis emerge more than
halfway from her gaping anus.  Looking down at herself, she used two
fingers of her left hand to spread her inner labia wide open and gently
placed the Feeldo's bulb against her much smaller opening.  She grimaced
and pushed, huffing out a warm breath against my chest as the elastic skin
dilated and the black plastic slowly began to disappear into her bald cunt.

   After a moment she relaxed, looked down at herself, than back at me,
pride glowing on her face.  The long end of the Feeldo stuck up from her
crotch at a sharp angle, six inches of smooth black latex.  I saw her belly
tense and the appliance wobbled, just like I could make my real penis do. I
smiled back at Renee, then put my hands around her waist and gently pushed
her back down onto me.  We sighed together as the fierce heat re-engulfed
my tool.  I felt lube, liquified in her bowels, squish out and dribble down
my scrotum.

   Renee's smile faded to a serious, concentrated look and her hazel eyes
widened as I wrapped one hand around the Feeldo where it disappeared into
her juvenile peach.  If I held it low I could rub her clitty with my
knuckles, even trapping the bud as it erected between the ring and little
fingers.  I tugged the shaft forward and back gently so that the inserted
bulb moved inside the child.  I could feel the movement on my own shaft
through her internal tissues.

   "Nice cock, Renee," I whispered, and her eyes locked to mine.  Spots of
color emerged high on her cheeks and a bright sheen of sweat on her
forehead and below her eyes.  "Nice cock," I repeated.  "It's so big and
hard.  I know you fuck with it, don't you?  You fuck lots of the boys at
school, you slutty little girl." I loved talking dirty to the child.  Just
ten years old and and she was more experienced than plenty of women twice
her age.

   Renee moaned sweetly and shifted, twisting and clenching her rectum,
massaging my organ buried to the hilt in her.  "I fuck the big boys," she
whispered hoarsely.  I had made this talk part of our sex play from the
beginning and while at first it left her nonplussed as she had aged and
just crossed into the beginning of puberty, she had come to take her own
pleasure from it.  "I fuck the high school boys with my penis.  I have
orgasms.  I'm a slutty little girl with a big penis, ooo, ooo,
oooOOOoooOOO!" She threw her head back and her legs started trembling,
shivers that spread to her whole body.

   Her ass clamped down and the transmitted vibrations of her cries sent me
over the edge too.  "Uh!" I grunted as I ejaculated into the fourth-grader.
"Uh!  Oh, I love you Renee!  Uhhh!  Ahhhh..." I felt the juicy extra warmth
of my semen further lubricating the contact between the length of my penis
and Renee's rectal sleeve.

   "Ooo!  Ooo!" Renee gasped as she, too, felt the liquid filling her ass.
I dug my pinky into her slit over the Feeldo, tickling the underside of her
clit and making her shiver harder, prolonging the waves of juvenile climax
sweeping over her.  I drew up my knees and Renee slumped back, settling
down even deeper onto my penis, reclining against my legs as the tension
slowly drained out of her ten-year-old body.  I stroked my hands down her
front, fingers tracing her collarbones, down over her plump little
breastlets, feeling the soft undulations of her ribs beneath skin and
muscle.  I swear the little girl started to purr after a minute or two.  I
was still hard and fully-embedded but Renee was well-used to taking
adult-sized cocks in her back passage and she showed no sign of discomfort.
And that's when Karen asked the question.

   "Girls can get married, right?  I mean, to other girls?" In the throes
of passion with her little sister I'd frankly forgotten that the
twelve-year-old was sitting right next to us and watching our coupling. 
She had a wistful expression beneath her garish makeup, and one hand was
between her legs, idly caressing herself though I bet she was not even
aware she was doing that.  "I mean, it's not like the old days when you
were young, is it?"

   "The old days." Hmph.  I reached out a hand and cupped a breast. 
Karen's face twisted but she didn't draw back.  She was too well-trained.
She may still have quailed internally but it had been hammered into her
that a whore had no right to her own body, that she was a commodity to be
used by anyone.  After performing literally thousands of sex acts over the
last year, often with strangers, she no longer felt the freezing terror
that had filled her the first time I had stripped her naked.  She no longer
felt much of anything, really, except for humiliation, and that was buried
so deeply and twisted up so thoroughly with her unslakable sexual needs
that she hardly recognized it as anything apart from her normal daily
existence.  "Yes, girls can marry girls," I answered her.  "Why do you
ask?"

   Karen stood up quickly.  "Oh...no reason," she said, trying and failing
miserably for nonchalance.  She bent gracefully from the waist, exposing
her delicious nearly-hairless pussy briefly as she extracted a tshirt from
her backpack.  She shrugged into it.  It was just half an inch longer than
indecent on the leggy sixth-grader, clinging to her tight buttocks and
coming down to barely cover her upper thighs.  A final check of her face in
the mirror and she was off, heading down to the park where a morning of
turning tricks with half a dozen of her regulars awaited.

   Renee and I exchanged a quizzical look, a "what was that all about?"
Renee shrugged.  I sat up and kept going, rotating us until she was on her
back folded nearly double.  She linked her ankles behind my head.  I
reached up under her and hooked my hands over her shoulders for leverage. I
arched my back until my spine protested to bring my face level with the
much shorter ten-year-old's.  Then I mashed my mouth against hers,
thrusting my tongue between her lips as I resumed thrusting into her ass.

   After lunch Renee and I had to go back to the motel room briefly so that
she could rinse out her panties.  She put up with my lecture about cleaning
herself better after sex with only minimal eye-rolling.  Then we headed for
the Daubersteins' townhouse.  Renee was walking more than a little
bowlegged as we walked up the street from where I parked, but I knew she
was exaggerating and I didn't feel the least bit guilty.  I gave her a
look. Her face gave nothing back but her gait became more normal.

   Rubin was asleep in his recliner when Renee and I entered the house. 
His snores competed with the blaring television at the other end of the
room.  He was wearing nothing but a stained wifebeater.  His pecker looked
like a forlorn, grotty little worm in an exceptionally messy bird's nest. I
tossed a throw over his midsection because, yeesh.  Rubin's daughter,
seven-year-old Lilah sat on the floor in the middle of the room, ignoring
her father, the tv, and us, giggling and mumbling to herself.  She was
naked, sitting with her thighs open and her filthy soles together.  Her
hair was matted and greasy and her blue eyes were deeply bloodshot.  The
laces that pierced her protruding vulva were spread open.  Her vaginal
opening gaped, though in a child so small it was barely as big around as my
index finger.  She was sitting in a small puddle of drying semen with more
oozing sluggishly out of her.  Crayons and markers were scattered around
her and streaks of color were all over her face.  There were crude
schematic penises drawn all over her arms and legs, each in a different
color.  I craned my head around to read what she had written upside-down on
her belly.  "DIRTY LITEL HORE," it said.  One of the "L"s was backwards.

   Lilah took no notice when I leaned down.  She smelled strongly of cum
and unwashed child.  My hands easily encircled her skinny ankles with
plenty to spare.  I lifted and spread her legs and she tipped over
bonelessly, her head thumping on the floor.  Her eyes roved aimlessly, her
mouth fell open and her tongue slipped out, but she stayed oblivious.  When
I let go her legs fell open wide, her toes pointing north and south.  I got
on one knee to examine the child's snatch.  It was still swollen, the fat
outer labia pushed forward and out and deeply dimpled each in three places
where the laces went through.  While there were multiple layers of fading
bruises all over her crotch and upper thighs, there was no sign of
infection.  I tugged on the lace ends.  Lilah made a noise like "eep!" as
her swollen peach stretched and clung to the waxed fabric but it slid
through the holes easily enough.  I gave a harder yank and the flesh
wrinkled and smooshed together leaving just an irregular crease dribbling
jizz.  I tied a neat bowknot and stood.

   Lilah's hands groped blindly until purely by chance she found one of the
magic markers on the floor by her head.  She lifted it to her nose as if to
sniff but just ended up scrawling all over her face.  Her coordination was
shot.  At that moment Renee called down, "They're up here!" so I turned and
followed her voice up the stairs.

   Karen and Moira were in Lilah's bedroom.  Karen was lying crosswise on
the bare, stained mattress with her head propped on a pillow and her butt
hanging off the edge.  Her tshirt was carelessly discarded on the floor so
she was naked except for her hi-tops.  Moira sat cross-legged on the floor,
leaning forward with her hands cupping Karen's ass and her face buried in
Karen's snatch.  Moira's face was shiny with a mixture of Karen's juices
and strangers' ejaculate, wet from the bridge of her nose down to her
dripping chin.  She looked blankly at me for a moment, then turned back to
lapping at Karen's oozing, flushed opening.  "You taste so good, kitten,"
she said in between slurps as Karen gasped and writhed.  "Ain't nothin'
tastier than a whore cunt pumped fulla cum, and that's a fact."

   Moira played with Karen's silky pubic tuft, twisting the matted curls
slowly around one finger then another while her thumb gently strummed
Karen's clitoris.  It was swollen to its full size, a wine-dark fat curl of
flesh, standing out and grotesquely oversized compared to the rest of
Karen's undeveloped genitalia.

   "Oh, jeez, Moira," Karen moaned.  Her barely-pubescent body gleamed with
sweat in the bright overhead light.  She dragged the back of her hand
across her face, wiping away tears and smearing her mascara.  "My babycunt,
oh jeez, it's sooooo hot..."

   "I know, kitten," Moira said.  "Hot'n'juicy." She pinched Karen's clit
gently between thumb and forefinger, stretching it away from its hood and
bringing it to her pursed lips.  She sucked it into her mouth, scraping her
teeth across it lightly as she trilled her tongue against it.

   The effect on Karen was immediate.  The sixth-grader's legs shot out
straight and her back arched until only her butt and head were touching the
filthy mattress.  "Oh...oh...oooooh...OH JEEEEEZ!" her voice rose to a
scream.  Moira opened wide and gulped greedily at the hot juice pouring out
of Karen's juvenile puss.  It overflowed her mouth, dripping down her chin
and neck and soaking the collar of her blouse.  "AAAIEE!  AAAIEE!  AAAIEE!"
Karen cried out as each orgasmic convulsion wracked her body.  Gradually
her cries diminished to incoherent moaning.  Her body relaxed.  She
carefully untangled her fingers from Moira's hair and let them fall, limp,
to the mattress.  Moira sat back and used her fingers to squeegee semen off
her face and into her mouth.

   Renee came and sat down on the bed next to her older sister, crossing
her legs and tucking her skirts carefully around her.  She reached out and
tenderly stroked Karen's sweaty forehead, smoothing away damp hair.  "Silly
whore," she murmured.  Karen looked up at the ten-year-old, her eyes shiny
with unshed tears.  "Silly, silly whore."

   My heart swelled at the moment of unguarded love between the two
sisters. A look passed between them, and then Karen struggled to prop
herself on her elbows.  Her arms trembled from exhaustion or nerves or
both, making her swollen nipples wobble.  "Moira, can I ask you something?"

   I would've wanted privacy to pop the question.  But Karen, of course,
had been harshly conditioned to believe she didn't deserve privacy.  So at
least her sister was there to comfort her when Moira burst out laughing. 
Renee glared daggers at Moira.

   "Oh, I'm sorry, kitten," Moira chuckled.  "I ain't makin' fun.  But you
ain't but twelve.  Don't matter how big a whore you are, you can't get
married in this state 'til you're eighteen."

   "But...I want to!" Karen wailed.  "I love you, Moira!  I love you soooo
much, you make my babycunt feel so good, I want us to be married, and live
together, and be whores together, and you can make me feel good and maybe I
won't need to fuck so much all the time..." she trailed off, her face
twisted in anxiety and upset.  The unshed tears spilled down her face,
tracking her already-smeared mascara down her cheeks.

   "I know you do, kitten," Moira said, not unkindly.  "But the rules are
the rules.  Your momma and papa would never allow it.  You got to be
eighteen.  You figure out a way around that, and long as Daddy says it's ok
I'd marry you in a heartbeat." I didn't think Moira was trying to be kind
by giving herself an out.  Kindness had never been in her nature as long as
I'd known her and if she was no longer intentionally cruel, I don't think
she paid much attention to Karen's feelings at all.

   "I have an idea," Renee piped up.

   It was a great idea, but it required time and money to put together. 
Fortunately, I had the first and Karen had the second.  Even after
deducting a third to pay taxes (I reported it as "gambling income") her
bank account was in the mid-five figures from a year and a bit of being a
very busy little child prostitute.  A pretext for the girls to spend the
weekend with me was found in a city towards the other end of the state that
happened to be hosting a dog show and a martial arts expo on the same
weekend.  Just outside that city was a state park that had a rustic event
hall surrounded by some cabins and a camping area.  Karen paid to reserve
the whole thing for the weekend.  She also paid to print up invitations
that she distributed to some of her favorite tricks.

   Planning a wedding can get pretty insane; oddly enough the fact that the
wedding was to be between an underaged hooker and the older girl who turned
her out and thus had to be all done in secret made things easier, not
harder.  We just jettisoned all the frills that would have increased our
exposure.

   And now here we were.  It was a warm day, and in the packed,
un-airconditioned hall maybe getting a little too warm for comfort, even
with all the windows running the length of the building open.  The seating
on Moira's side was a weird mix of rich preps she knew from college and
guys from the biker club we had met last spring.  Karen's side was a more
motley bunch.  Almost all men (and boys) of course, but of every
description ranging in age from 14 to well over 70.  Most everyone looked
furtive but they all knew why they were here.  Moira was standing at the
front, with me.  I looked the length of the hall and saw everything was
ready.  I gave Renee the signal, and we were ready to go.

   First down the aisle was our flower girl.  Lilah was wearing a dress
that fit her fine - when she was five.  Now, the ruffled pink skirt barely
came down past her hips, making it plain that she was not wearing
underwear. Her cunt-laces had been adorned with a pair of golf-ball sized
shiny steel balls.  The weight of them stretched the bottom of her vulva
downwards, and they clacked as she walked.  She carried a basket of rose
petals, which she completely forgot to scatter.  In fact after about five
steps the seven-year-old seemed to forget where she was entirely.  She
dropped the basket, twirled around a couple of times in the aisle, and then
clumsily pulled off the far-too-small dress.  Except for flip-flops that
was all she was wearing.  She dug between her sewed-up cuntlips with one
finger, doing an awkward little dance as she sought her clitoris as if she
were up her nose after a booger.  Her gyrations made the silver balls swing
and clack louder.  She gaped down at herself as if she were just noticing
them for the first time - probably true in the moment as her memory was
pretty well shot - and picked them up, making a little yelp of surprised
pain as she tried to raise them to eye level and of course yanked the laces
through the holes pierced in her vulva.  She lost her balance then, and her
bony little butt hit the scarred hardwood floor.  Her blue eyes started to
well up, but then she noticed that the man in the aisle seat where she had
fallen was rubbing himself through his pants as he watched her antics. 
"Penis?" she chirped.  "Penis?" She crawled between his legs and before you
could say "4 hits of microdot, three supercharged brownies and half a tab
of speed" his zipper came down and a large coffee-brown half-erect cock
smacked her on the nose.  The next thing I heard was that distinctive
gargling choke that meant seven-year-old Lilah had stuffed yet another
adult into her mouth.  Between the rows of seated bodies between me and her
I could just glimpse her tangled blond hair bobbing up and down.

   Renee took her cue and began leading Karen down the aisle.  She was
underdressed for this occasion, which is to say, fully dressed.  She had
suffered to let Karen put a little makeup on her face, just some blush,
eyeliner, and lipgloss.  Her thick, wavy brown hair was loose around her
face and shoulders, with only a dusting of glitter.  She was wearing
running shoes, ankle socks, lavender skorts, and a tshirt I had had made
for her just for this occasion.  The shirt was a simple ash gray with black
letters in a wavy serif font.  "I'M WITH THE WHORE" it declared.

   Renee walked slowly as we had rehearsed: step, pause; step, pause; we
wanted to be sure everyone got to enjoy a nice long look at Karen and that
Karen had plenty of time to think about being naked in front of a roomful
of people.  Her veil was thin enough not to hide her face, and her
expression was the sexiest thing I could imagine: that wavering, impish
smile children get when they know they're being naughty but they're having
too much fun to stop.  Karen was embarrassed, excited, aroused, humiliated
all at the same time and you could see it all in her wide blue eyes and her
trembling barefoot steps as she followed the tug on the leather collar
buckled tightly around her neck.  My breath caught in my throat at the
wonderful sight of the twelve-year-old's undeveloped body on complete
display to the room.  Most everyone that could see her had performed some
kind of sex act on the child at one time or another.  And if they hadn't,
they would soon.

   As Renee led Karen closer I began to smell her, too: a light, floral
perfume, her nervous sweat, and the pungent scent of her preteen arousal. I
swallowed heavily and felt the rush of blood to my penis as it pulsed
towards full hardness.  I had it exposed for the ceremony, poking out
through my dress jeans, and decorated with the same glitter in Renee's
hair. Moira absently reached down and petted it, rubbing a drop of my
precum around and around the glans.

   As the girls drew even with Moira and stopped I muted the CD player
behind me.  Karen was panting with excitement as she lifted her veil,
breath rasping past the slight constriction of her collar.  Her
cherry-sized nipples were swollen and gooseflesh rippled down her
shoulders, breasts, and belly beneath the decorations of slowly drying
semen.  I swore I could feel the heat rising off her bare body warming my
cockhead.  I let the silence continue for a few seconds, broken only by the
Lilah's sloppy gagging as she swallowed around the erection pushed into her
throat.

   The ceremony was short and to the point.  "Thanks for coming, everyone,"
I began.  "We're here to witness the uniting of these two whores in
marriage." I turned to Karen.  "Karen, do you take Moira to be your wife?
Will you love her and obey her?  Will you fuck whoever she sells you to? 
Will you bring her home as many loads of cum in your babycunt as she asks?"

   Karen looked at Moira, and adoration was plain on her face.  "I will,"
she said.

   "Moira, do you take this whore to be your wife?  Will you love her? 
Will you make sure that she saves the money she makes from fucking?  Will
you see that she gets fucked as much as she needs?  Will you lick her
babycunt clean every day?"

   Moira locked eyes with Karen.  The room was quiet except for the soft
pat, pat, pat of Karen's thick love honey dripping out of her cunt down to
the floor.  "Ah will, kitten," Moira said softly.

   "The rings, please?" I asked.

   Renee dug into her pocket and came out with a small box.  She opened it
as we had rehearsed.  Karen's hand was shaking so badly she almost dropped
the ring, but she managed to slide it onto Moira's finger without too much
fumbling.  She looked so happy at that moment.  Then she boggled as Moira
hiked up the front of her long dress and reached beneath it.  "I been
keeping it warm for you, kitten," she said.  There was a faint wet sound
from under the heavy fabric and then her hand emerged, thumb and finger
shiny with moisture.  The ring looked...odd.  Too small.  Karen looked
quizzical but confusion changed to shocked pleasure when Moira reached down
and seized Karen's oversized clit.  Karen squeaked in surprise, then moaned
as Moira rolled the swollen nub between thumb and forefinger.  She
stretched it, tugging gently against the scar tissue that caused Karen's
clitoris to curl under around itself.  This wasn't easy as it was slippery
with Karen's baby honey.  Her entire crotch was soaked and more was
steadily oozing out between her flushed labia.  A puddle was growing on the
floor between her bare feet.

   Moira had the ring in her other and and I suddenly realized what I was
looking at.  Not a wedding ring, but a tiny spring hose clamp, shiny with
gold paint and set with a ring of small stones.  She slid it over Karen's
throbbing bud, pushing it back so that it was right at the root.  Then she
let go.

   "Ohhhh, Goddddddd!" Karen moaned and her knees quivered.  The clamp was
sized to be snug but not tight.  It wouldn't be painful but it would rub
with every step the preteen took, every move she made.  Karen already lived
her life fighting off her body's near-constant sexual arousal.  This would
only increase her delicious torment.

   I nodded at Renee and she ceremoniously held out Karen's leash in both
hands.  Moira took it.  "By the power vested in me by...well, no one...I
now pronounce you married.  You may kiss the whore." Karen's eyes were
locked on Moira's face as the older girl leaned in.  I realized that the
two were almost the same height now, Karen at most an inch shorter.  It had
been a while since I had seen them side by side and vertical.  Karen
moaned, low and long, as their lips touched.  She closed her eyes and
pressed her naked body against Moira.  Their tongues sought, found,
entwined.  Karen couldn't seem to catch her breath but she wasn't willing
to sacrifice any little bit of contact with her new wife.  She pushed her
leg between Moira's, clamped her thighs.  Her naked ass began to undulate
as she hunched herself, the movement slowly rucking up Moira's dress.

   Moira broke their kiss and dissolved in giggles.  She put her hands
tenderly on Karen's cheeks.  "I know how this goes, kitten." Karen's eyes
were hazed with lust and she looked as if she might collapse.  Moira took a
moment to brush at the dark stain Karen's seeping quim had left on her
dress, then she took Karen's upper arm gently and turned her to face the
audience.

   "I give you: Moira and her whore!" I announced.  Karen blushed prettily
as everyone clapped - except for that one guy with his hands tangled into
Lilah's hair and his head thrown back.  After a minute the clapping fell
into sync.  Then first one person, then another then the whole room was
chanting "Whores!  Whores!  Whores!" in time.  The chant got faster and
faster until it dissolved in a final burst of applause.  Then someone on
Moira's side got to his feet.

   "How many?" he asked.  Karen looked at him dumbly, not understanding.

   "You remember Carl, doncha, kitten?" Moira cooed in her ear.  "He wants
to know, how many times have you fucked?" The first time he'd asked this
question, in Moira's apartment at the beach two Christmases ago, Karen had
turned bright red and been nearly crying from humiliation.  Her blush was
just as bright now, starting at the roots of her hair and traveling down to
her chest above her teacup breasts, but this time it was from pleasure, not
shame.

   "Thousands!" she cried gaily.  "Men, and boys, and girls, and Moira,
and...and even my little sister!" Renee, standing at my elbow, scowled. 
She didn't figure it was anyone's business what she did.  "I love fucking!"
the twelve-year-old declared, to more applause and raucous cheers.

   "I know ya do, kitten," Moira said, "So we got a little surprise for
you." Taking my cue I walked to the corner of the room, to what appeared to
be some unused furniture under heavy dust cloths.  But when I whipped the
sheets away with a flourish, there was a wicker loveseat with a low back.
It was raised like a throne on the long picnic benches that were most of
the seating in the room.  The cushionless wicker seat was just about at an
adult's thigh level.  And dangling from each arm of the loveseat was a pair
of handcuffs, one side locked around the chair and the other open.  The
nickel plating gleamed in the afternoon sun streaming through the windows.

   Karen gasped and put a hand to her bare chest.  "Yeah, you remember,
doncha kitten?" Moira said.

   "I do," Karen breathed.  She licked lips suddenly dry.  But her heart
was pounding with excitement, not fear.  That night at Moira's and
afterwards on the beach had been traumatic in a way that most children
could have never recovered from.  She'd been drugged, molested for hours,
then drugged more and raped all night until she had literally lost her
mind. But Karen's memories of the shock and the fear and the pain were
overshadowed by the memory of hours of pure animal pleasure, orgasmic waves
that never stopped until she was literally falling down with exhaustion -
and even then she just kept cumming.  And, I suppose in self-preservation,
her mind had suppressed everything but the pleasure.

   And so she stepped forward and, one bare foot on the bench, hopped
nimbly onto the wicker seat.  Turning, she held out her leash to Moira. 
"Tie me," she said.  "Hurry!"

   Chuckling at her new wife's eagerness, Moira obliged.  She clipped the
leash to the back of the chair so Karen had only a few inches of play, not
nearly enough to sit up straight.  Karen put her arms over the back and
Moira said, "Well, I don't think we need to tie your hands this time,
kitten.  We're not having a contest like we did." Smiling, Karen ran her
hands over her breasts, down her belly and lower, to her sex.  She found
the ring gently binding her clit and experimentally twisted it.  Her eyes
closed for a second and a heavy dollop of white cream squished out from
between her soaking labia, ran down over her perineum and dripped onto the
wicker seat.  She smiled wider and stretched out one leg, shaking it
impatiently until Moira closed the handcuffs around her ankle with a click.
Karen was almost bouncing with eagerness as Moira moved to the other side.
With both legs cuffed to the arms of the loveseat, Karen was spread wide.
Her cunt was split open, the inner lips thick with blood, flushed almost
purple and flowered open.  Her oversized clitoris stood up proudly, twisted
around but held by the golden band.

   Karen was panting now, and her face was sweaty.  She looked up at her
wife with pure love in her blue eyes.  "Thank you Moira," the sixth-grader
said, "I love you, and I love my present.  Only..." Moira raised her
eyebrows.  "Only, no bottles this time, okay?" Moira's peal of laughter cut
through the buzz of excited conversation rising behind us.

   Karen looked out between her spread, raised legs at the roomful of men
and boys.  She took a breath and then in a loud, clear voice said, "My
name's Karen, and I'm Moira's whore.  But all of you can fuck my whore
babycunt!" The room erupted in cheers and the naked preteen basked in it.
Then the crowd converged on her.