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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 14 (Mg, M+g, MFg,
Fg, cons, nc, ped, gangbang, prost, ws, drugs, bd, tort, oral, anal, inc,
tg, utter psychological destruction of a vulnerable child) by Rufus Fugit

   We threw open all the windows but it still got too warm in the
unairconditioned hall, so the wedding reception had moved out onto the
broad porch that ran the length of the building.  It had been well-shaded
during the hottest part of the day but now the late afternoon sun slanted
over the celebrants.  The keg was at one end of the porch.  There was a
line.  That was my fault.  I'd gotten plenty of beer but only one tap.  I
should've gone ahead and gotten two or even three, but oh well.  At least
there was plenty of pleasant distraction for the guys milling around
waiting for their turn.

   Our first little distraction was sitting in a puddle of cum, spilt beer,
and urine.  Lilah's face was a mess.  Semen drooled out of her mouth, over
her bottom lip, and down her chin and neck.  Thick, gooey ropes hung from
her chin, slowly growing the puddle of slime that surrounded her.  Some of
the piss was hers but by no means all.  As I watched, a young guy, one of
Moira's guests, tossed his empty Solo cup into the trash barrel, fished his
penis out of the leg of his jogging shorts, and began hosing down the
seven-year-old.  She closed her eyes and turned her head but not before she
got a good mouthful.  It dribbled out of her mouth to cut a channel through
the heavy coating of spunk on her chin.  The guy wetted her hair,
plastering the greasy blond locks to her head.  His weakening stream played
over her bare body.  Lilah didn't try to move away from the pungent liquid.
For one thing, she was probably too drunk to organize anything more than a
slow crawl.  After the ceremony, a bunch of guests had enjoyed forcing her
to take shots of whiskey in between choking her on their cocks.  For
another, steps had been taken to keep her from wandering off.  There was a
length of heavy chain wrapped around one skinny ankle and locked to a
drainpipe.  She had about three feet of play, no more.  So she just sat
cross-legged, naked and filthy, on the cracked concrete of the porch.  As
she blinked reddened eyes clear of the stinky, acidic urine, they focused
on the guy's still-exposed tool and she showed the only kind of animation
she had all afternoon.  "Penith?" she quavered, and reached out a groping
hand, trying to touch it.  Her other hand was in her lap, two fingers
digging deep inside her sewn up vulva.  "Penith?  Penith?" she begged as,
laughing, the guy turned away and got back in line for another beer.  Lilah
lurched to her feet to follow.  "Penith?  Pe-urk!" The chain pulled tight,
her bare feet tangled, and she fell on her face, not even trying to raise
her arms to catch her fall.  After a minute she struggled to a sitting
position.  Blood ran from her nose.  "Penith?" she repeated plaintively,
then spit out a tooth.

   Our second little distraction was the "bride".  Karen was in her glory.
She was still naked, still seated on the wicker loveseat with her legs
spread wide and her ankles cuffed to the arms of the bench.  Two bikers had
carried her outside like a queen on a palanquin.  Then they had taken turns
fucking the shit out of the naked sixth-grader, and that had only been the
beginning.  Her cunt and her asshole both gaped wide from continuous hard
use.  She was breathing hard, trembling and moaning with every exhale.  Her
skin shone in the sunlight, damp with sweat from hairline to toes.  Her
nipples were bright red and swollen like two giant cherries.  She was
flushed underneath her honey tan and a delicious pink where her skin was
normally covered and pale.  She was spattered with cum on her belly, her
chest, her face and cheeks.  Too many of these young guys were
indoctrinated on internet porn, grew up thinking the money shot was the way
it was supposed to happen in real life.  Semen also dribbled from her
distended anus, dripping through the latticework of the bench.  The only
bit of her body not soiled with some stranger's jizz was her swollen vulva.
That was not from lack of use.  Rather, it was her new "wife"'s aggressive
cleaning routine.  Moira knelt on a cushion before the twelve-year-old, her
floor-length gown carefully gathered and spread around her.  She had her
hands wrapped around Karen's coltish thighs and her face buried between
them.  Obscene slurping and sucking sounds rose above Karen's moans.  While
Moira ate cum from her sex, Karen was masturbating herself vigorously, her
hands alternately tugging and twisting at her clitoris, mauling the swollen
bud unmercifully.

   Karen had reached the point where multiple orgasms blended together into
one continuous rolling climax, spasms rippling through her body like surf
to the shore and just as implacably.  Her preteen brain was saturated with
pleasure, but I noticed that she hadn't checked out, gone to her "floaty
place" as she had once described it to me.  Sure, she was incoherent,
moaning and babbling to no one in particular, "Oh, my babycunt, my whore
babycunt, it's so hot, fuck my whore babycunt, I'm a naked whore," and
suchlike over and over, but she reacted to her surroundings.  Her blue eyes
were wide and glassy, but they took in the adult men crowding around her.
Her smile widened when she recognized one or another of her favorite
tricks. She called them by name when they plunged into her swollen preteen
cunny.  She yipped in pleasure with each thrust, panting as one adult cock
after another pistoned in and out of her quim, churning her juices and
their predecessors' semen into a heavy white froth.  She twisted her
slender body, shoving her hips frantically out to meet her lovers' groins,
moving them as far as she could with her legs pinioned wide.  Her hands
grabbed at male flesh, pulling chest hair, pinching nipples, doing anything
to get the physical contact, the delicious friction that she craved.  She
made no attempt to cover her nudity.  Whatever sense of shame she had left
had been beaten down and shut away into some tiny dark corner of her mind.

   Moira finished cleaning Karen's soaking crotch with a long swipe of a
flattened tongue up and down each puffy lip, then sat up straight.  Her
face was shiny from nose to chin and covered with thick smears of white. 
Her bright green eyes met Karen's and she licked her lips exaggeratedly. 
Karen blushed more deeply.  "You sure do taste a treat, kitten," Moira's
voice was low and throaty.  She was more animated than I had seen her in
quite some time.  She held Karen's gaze as she slowly pushed two fingers
inside the preteen.  They slid in easily.  Karen's eyes flared open at the
sensation.  The fingers came out coated in Karen's secretions.  Moira used
her free hand to grasp Karen's, and push it away from her crotch.  With
thumb and finger she slowly twirled the gold ring at the root of the little
girl's astonishingly oversized clitoris.  A smile played at one corner of
her mouth as she watched Karen's face contort as wave after wave of
pleasure rolled over her.

   "Ohh, Moira," Karen gasped out.  "I'm your wife.  And I'm your whore."

   "Aww, kitten."

   "I love you, Moira," Karen said softly.  First love is always a
revelation.  Sex had destroyed Karen.  It had crushed her spirit.  It had
torn away what she thought she knew about right and wrong.  It had
shattered her self-image, leaving nothing but shame and humiliation and
unquenchable need.  But she had managed.  On her best days she was able to
take the shame and turn it into an aggressive flaunting of her precocious
sexuality, take the humiliation and twist it in her gut into even fiercer
pleasure.  And now she was experiencing love at the same overwhelming
intensity.  "I'm your whore, and I love you," she whispered.

   "I know you do, kitten," Moira answered and Karen was too inexperienced
to hear in that anything besides a reflection.  "Now," she said, getting to
her feet and licking her fingers clean, "Let's get you fucked some more."

   Karen looked a bit nonplussed at Moira's sudden withdrawal, but she was
quickly distracted.  "Oh, it's Mister Al!" She sat up as much as she could
with the leash clipped short.  She bent her knees to sit forward,
displaying her nearly-bald sex even more obscenely.  "Mister Al, Mister
Al," she called excitedly, waving both hands.  An older gentleman walking
across the gravel parking lot stopped, shaded his eyes, waved back.  Karen
was grinning like, well, like the sixth-grade girl she was.

   "Mister Al, guess what?  I got married!" Karen seemed completely
unabashed to be sitting naked and spread open before a man old enough to be
her grandfather.  She looked up with wide blue eyes and a grin splitting
her face.  "Now come fuck me!" She arched her back and tilted her pelvis,
getting leverage from her binding to spread her thighs even wider.  "Come
fuck my whore babycunt, Mister Al!"

   * * *

   We all slept in the next morning.  I'd rented one of the rustic cabins.
It was a little nicer than the name suggested.  It was clean, anyway, with
freshly whitewashed walls and a polished hardwood floor.  It wasn't
airconditioned but there was a lazy ceiling fan that kept the air moving.
It was big enough for a double bed and a bunk.  There was a tiny cold-water
sink in one corner, but no toilet.

   I was on the top bunk with my back pressed to the wall and Renee spooned
against me.  Light snores emerged from beneath the thick tangle of her dark
brown hair.  Her legs were drawn up and the soles of her feet pressed into
my thighs.  The ten-year-old was wearing only panties, the rest of her
clothes were in a tangle at the foot of the bunk.  I had one egg-sized
breastlet cupped in my hand and my morning hardon rubbed against the
waistband of her underpants.

   I peered over the edge of the bunk to where Moira and Karen were
entwined on the double bed.  Their faces were together as if kissing but
they were both deeply asleep.  Moira was on her stomach and Karen on her
back.  The sixth-grader's narrow chest rose and fell evenly.  There were
fresh bite marks, red and livid, all over the pale skin of her preteen
breasts and the darker pink of her swollen nipples.  Her legs were flung
wide.  One knee was crooked over Moira's cream-colored nightgown.  The
other foot hung off the edge of the bed.  Her new wedding ring gleamed in
the morning light, peeking out between the lips of her vulva, nestled down
in the moist pink folds.  Her oversized clitoris bulged out around the
golden band.  Moira's thumb lay alongside the pale outer labia, with two
fingers embedded deeply in the sixth-grader.  They had fallen asleep that
way.  Karen's dark pink petals were snug around Moira's fingers and shiny
with moisture.  There was a steady trickle running over Moira's knuckles
and a small wet spot on the sheets, but at least it was all Karen's.  Moira
had licked the little girl inside and out, fore and aft, until she was
"clean as a whistle", not even a trace remaining of the literally dozens of
ejaculations that had driven the child to exhausted ecstacy.

   The rattling that had awoken me repeated, this time joined by little
high-pitched grunts from Lilah's cage.  Crate-training the little girl had
been Moira's idea.  Lilah hardly slept anymore and lately had taken to
wandering aimlessly in the night.  Since it was nearly impossible to keep
clothes on her, and since a couple times she'd managed to work the back
door and get out into the alley behind their townhouse, this had been a
necessary solution.  Moira had gotten a collapsable cage from the local pet
store, of a size for the larger dog breeds.  Furnished with a couple of
pillows and Lilah's blankie it kept her comfy enough.  Once after her first
few days she'd managed to trip the simple latch on the cage door so Moira'd
added a padlock, a tiny one meant for luggage.  It was enough to keep the
seven-year-old from escaping.

   Last night, though, she'd been agitated, not to mention soaked and
stinking, her hair drenched in urine and cum, her entire face thickly
glazed except for two channels at the corners of her mouth, dried blood
crusted under her nose, and her body showing more patches of flaking dried
semen than bare skin.  She'd been literally bouncing off the walls of the
crate so additional measures had been necessary.  Now she lay on her back.
Her fine blond hair was grey with dust and filth and crusty with spunk,
sticking out around her head in clumps.  There was a pillow under her
narrow chest, forcing her back into an arch and pushing out the vee of her
ribcage.  This made her look even more emaciated, with pale dirty skin
tightly stretched over her ribcage and her breastbone standing out in sharp
relief.  Her legs were up in the air, knees bent, feet pressed against the
top of the cage.  Even her soles, I noticed, had dried jizz on them.  It
was really the only position she could be in, since the ends of the
bootlace that pierced her tiny bald vulva and crimped it shut were tied
around the wire of the cage, holding her with her backside against it and
her legs up in the air.  Except now she was trying to move.  She curled her
toes through the cage and tried to lever herself backwards.  But her laces
held and stretched the tender skin of her labia.  The holes in either lip
pulled open, revealing fresh scar tissue around the waxed cord.  Lilah
grunted in pain and then relaxed.  Her blue eyes were open but unfocused.
She didn't lift her head to see what was preventing her from moving.  She
was obviously too fuddled to understand the problem, because in a few
seconds she tried again, with of course identical results.  And again.  And
again.

   Lilah's grunts and squeaks of distress got louder with each tug, until
finally Karen's eyes fluttered open.  She looked at Moira still asleep next
to her and a smile split her face, like sunrise.  She started to sit up and
groaned herself, falling back with one hand on her head and another on her
crotch.  She reached lower and, hissing as sensitive tissues clung to dried
secretions, gently pulled Moira's fingers out of her.  Grimacing with pain,
she slowly lifted her legs over the side of the bed.  One hand over her
cunt and the other pressed between her buttcheeks over her still-gaping
asshole, she slowly stood.  Bent and shuffling like an old lady, she
crossed the room to Lilah's cage.  Her blond hair fell loose down the
length of her slender back, the smooth, flawless skin tan at the shoulders,
then pale, then tan again down to the dimples at the base of her spine. 
She leaned forward, pushing her fingers through the mesh to hold Lilah's
toes.  "Hey there, how's my big girl?"

   "...Karen?" Lilah breathed.  She knuckled both hands into her eyes,
trying to clear her vision.  "Karen, you're a whore," she said.

   "So are you," Karen replied.  "You're my little baby whore and boy did
you do a lot of whoring yesterday!  We gotta clean you up, you stinky
little whore."

   Karen reached down and popped the lock on Lilah's cage and swung the
door open.  Lilah tried to twist around and crawl out but since her cunt
laces were still tied, she yelped in pain and surprise.  She clapped her
hands over her mutilated sex, fingers tracing the laces criss-crossing over
her slit.  She looked puzzled, then alarmed, then terrified.  Her eyes
filled with tears.

   Karen undid the simple bowknot.  Lilah scrambled clumsily out of the
cage.  She staggered upright before a cloudy, streaked full-length mirror
that was hung next to the sink.  Lilah's eyes got as big as saucers as she
took in her filthy, degraded condition, her pallor, the deep bags beneath
her dull blue eyes, her stick-thin arms and legs, her tangled and matted
hair, the dried white protein flaking off her skin from hairline to toes.
The tears filling her eyes overflowed, cutting twin channels through the
gray mixture of dirt and cum plastered on her cheeks.  "Karen? 
What...what's happening to me?" There was rising panic in the
seven-year-old's voice.

   Karen straightened and limped painfully to join the smaller girl,
resting her hands on Lilah's knobby shoulders.  "You're a whore, Lilah,"
she said.  Her voice was warm but without sympathy.  "It's not always easy
to be a whore, but you did a great job."

   And that's when Lilah noticed again for the first time that her labia
were sewn shut.  Her shriek was ear-splitting.  She staggered back a step
and sat down hard on the scarred wood floor and gaped down at her mutilated
sex.  Her mouth worked, opened wide as if to scream again, but nothing came
out but an almost inaudible keening.  She doubled over and fell on her
side, heaving, and then curled up into a ball, knees drawn up, arms wrapped
tight around them, head tucked down.  Muffled sobs came from beneath her
mop of filthy hair.

   Lilah's shriek had woken Moira.  She sat up, shaking brown curls out of
her eyes.  She took in the situation at a glance.  She got out of bed and
rooted around in her suitcase.  "We made a mistake," she said to the room.
"We got so busy yesterday, no one gave Lilah her medicine."

   It took Moira just a few moments to find what I recognized as a set of
works in her suitcase and to expertly prepare a fresh syringe with a small
amount of solution she had premixed in a tiny stoppered vial.  She knelt on
the floor next to Karen, who was ineffectually stroking Lilah's bare back.
The younger child was still curled tight, sobbing and incoherent.  Moira
pried one of Lilah's stick-thin arms free, which started Lilah shrieking
again.  "Here, kitten," Moira said, and handed Karen a length of elastic
hose.  "You gotta learn how to do this." Karen winced from Lilah's piercing
screams but she followed Moira's instructions to loop and knot the hose
around Lilah's upper arm as Moira held it pinned to the floor.  Moira
flicked her finger into the crook of Lilah's elbow a few times.  Moira held
down Lilah's wrist and Karen her shoulder.  Moira gave Karen the syringe
and they held it together in their free hands.  Moira guided Karen to press
the needle against Lilah's vein and then showed her how to gently slide it
under the skin at an angle.  It took several tries because it was Karen's
first time giving an injection and Lilah wouldn't hold still.  Each tiny
stick in her arm led to more screaming and more feeble thrashing.

   Finally when Karen drew back the plunger at Moira's instructions the
clear liquid mixed with cloudy red.  Karen looked sick.  Moira put her
thumb over Karen's and pressed the plunger down, emptying the syringe into
the seven-year-old's vein.  The drug took hold in seconds.  Lilah's body
relaxed, uncurling and flopping onto her back.  Her shrieks trailed off
into whining and then to incoherent mumbling.  Her eyelids drooped, showing
just crescent slices of bloodshot white between her cum-clotted lashes. 
Her hands began to wander over her belly and chest, alternately stroking
and digging in her fingernails, as if trying to determine if it was still
her body.

   Karen relaxed her hold on the little girl, grunting in pain as she sat
back onto her butt.  Moira went back to her suitcase and withdrew another
stoppered vial, this one larger and full of dozens and dozens of tiny
orange and purple pills.  She stuck two fingers into Lilah's mouth,
levering open her unresisting jaw.  She popped the stopper but instead of
shaking out just one or two microdots, she upended it over Lilah's open
mouth.  "Moira, what the -" "fuck" died in my throat as Moira's entire
stash of LSD, over five hundred doses, poured into our seven-year-old sex
toy's mouth.  Lilah started to choke but Moira clamped her jaw closed and,
dropping the vial, stroked Lilah's throat with her thumb until she saw the
muscles work in a swallow.  She pulled down Lilah's chin again and
inspected her mouth, poking under her tongue to satisfy herself that all of
the microdots had been swallowed.

   Then she stood up, dusting her hands.  Straightening her nightie, she
looked up at me in the upper bunk.  Her face had gone slack in that sick,
scary way she had developed.  Her eyes were blank, like a doll's eyes. 
"Daddy said to.  He said I fucked up." A single tear fell from her right
eye and ran down her cheek ignored.  "He said I had to.  I didn't want to.
But Daddy said I had to make sure she'll never tell." It was true, letting
the little girl sober up for the first time in months had obviously caused
a problem.  And that problem was "solved", but lord only knew what new
problems loomed now that Lilah had been forcefed a dose of hallucinogen
hundreds of times what even an experienced adult would take.  I didn't even
know if you could live through such an outrageous overdose.  Well, I
guessed in a few hours we'd all find out.

   Moira then turned to Karen.  She still looked mildly ill and more than a
little horrified, as she observed the effect of the injection on the little
girl she'd used to babysit.  Karen knew that Moira had been drugging the
little girl for some time, but she'd rarely seen them administered except
for when we fed the kid cannabis edibles.  And she'd certainly observed
Lilah's mental deterioration.  That hadn't mattered much since Karen had
been treating Lilah as little more than a sex toy.  Moira and I had guided
Karen to replicate on Lilah the same abuse we'd visited on her; Lilah's
consent was not even in Karen's vocabulary and so long as Lilah was
compliant to the constant sexual assaults it was never a problem.  But this
was the first time she'd seen Lilah get shot up, and she'd been more than a
witness - Moira had cannily made her an accomplice in giving the
second-grader her first speedball.

   Moira gracefully squatted down in front of Karen.  "Hey," she said
softly, taking Karen's hands in hers and gently chafing the sixth-grader's
wrists.  "Hey, now," she repeated, finally crooking one finger beneath
Karen's trembling chin and forcing the child to meet her gaze.  Wide blue
eyes locked on sparkling green.  "You did great, kitten, just like I'd
expect from my wife," Karen's mouth dropped open in shock.  "What's the
matter, kitten?  A'course you're my wife now.  I allus wanted ta marry a
whore."

   Karen essayed a shaky smile but her eyes were troubled.  "I love you,
Moira," she whispered.

   Moira smiled back and there was something feral in it.  "That's good,
kitten.  An' I know you'll want ta help with Lilah.  You done great just
now, and now I know I can depend on you.  I can, right?  A girl should be
able to depend on her wife."

   Karen's head bobbed anxiously.  "Y-yes, of course.  You can always
depend on me."

   "That's good," Moira repeated.  "Well now, why don't you take our little
baby whore over to the showers and get her cleaned up a bit?" It was an
order and Karen reacted to it that way.  She fumbled around in the
bedclothes until she found the collar and leash she had worn yesterday. 
She unclipped the little silver heart that dangled from the collar.  She
looked at it in her hand, tracing with her thumb the graceful engraving of
"Whore" in script, before putting it carefully in her suitcase.  Then she
grabbed Lilah under her armpits and stood her up.  Lilah staggered but
didn't fall, stood shivering with her head drooping as if it were too heavy
for her neck.  Karen fastened the collar onto the child.  Lilah gasped as
Karen pulled it maybe a notch or two tighter than was strictly necessary.
Then she clipped the silver leash and tugged.  For a split second I thought
Lilah was just going to fall on her face but at the last minute she caught
herself.  She went down on hands and feet, with her pale little ass stuck
up in the air.  Her asshole was fiery red and gaping and her vulva,
bruised, rashed, and swollen, protruded from her skinny thighs.  The two
naked children left the cabin, Karen hobbling with her free hand still
pressed against her violated asshole and Lilah scrambling blindly from side
to side at the end of the leash.

   As soon as the screen slammed behind them, Moira's smile faded.  She sat
down on the edge of the bed, back straight, feet together on the floor. 
She clasped her hands in her lap and sat there, face blank and eyes
straight ahead looking at nothing, like a robot that had just been put on
standby.  Her mouth moved as if she were in animated conversation, but no
sound came out.  I'm no lipreader, but the word "Daddy" was clear.

   In the sudden stillness I realized two things: one, the loudest sound
was that of my blood singing in my ears.  Two, the second-loudest was the
soft snores emerging from beneath the dark cloud of Renee's hair.  She had
managed to sleep through the entire mess.

   Then I realized something else: far from going limp, my morning wood was
burning hot and ramrod-stiff and I was involuntarily hunching myself
against Renee's panty-clad butt.  Damn.  I scrabbled around in the sheets
until I found the tube of Astroglide.  I'd been hopeful of getting a piece
of Renee's ten-year-old ass last night but we'd both been too tired.  I
might've been asleep before she was.

   Well, I was wide-awake now.  With one hand I started tugging at Renee's
panties, working them down over her hips.  I pressed myself against the
child, sighing as my cock nestled in the warm valley between her
buttcheeks. As I rolled her onto her stomach and worked my arm free from
beneath her, Renee's breathing hitched but she didn't wake.

   I popped the cap and squeezed a large dollop of lube onto my two
fingers. I slid them up and down between her cheeks, spreading the gel
evenly over my fingers.  Then I probed.  Her asshole was tight.  It
twitched when I touched it.  I pushed.  I pushed harder.  It yielded
reluctantly and I began to penetrate the fourth-grader.

   Renee grunted, then said "What're you doing?" sleepily.  Her pelvis
rotated as she recoiled automatically from the violation, but that just
gave me a better angle.  I jabbed and my two fingers slid into the child's
rectum down to the second knuckle.

   That brought Renee to full alertness.  "Ow," she complained.  "What're
you doing?" she repeated, the sleep gone from her voice.

   I leaned over, pressing my chest against her back and pinning her to the
thin mattress.  "I'm fingering your asshole," I whispered in her ear.  "And
I'm fixing to put my cock in you."

   "No, I don't want to," Renee protested, but I was having none of it.  I
pumped my two fingers in and out, lubricating her back passage thoroughly.
She was so hot inside.

   "Yeah, I'm gonna fuck that baby ass," I muttered, my erection surging,
stiffened further by just the act of whispering obscenities into my niece's
ear.

   "I don't want to!" Renee repeated, but there was nothing she could do. I
rolled my full weight onto her.  With one hand I pressed her face down into
the mattress as I put my knees between her kicking legs, pushing them
apart. I fisted my cock, getting a little lube on the glans, and then
pushed it between her cheeks.  When I felt her sphincter twitching against
the tip, I bore down.  There was a moment of resistance, and then Renee
yelped as I popped inside her.  I used my knees and elbows as leverage,
pressing my weight down and then half rising over and over, each time
penetrating the fourth-grader's rectum a little further, each time making
her yelp from discomfort and growing outrage.

   "Ahhh," I sighed as I felt my testicles nestle down between Renee's
thighs.  I was balls-deep in the little girl.  Still keeping her immobile
under my adult weight, I ran my hands up her sides, under her armpits and
pulled her arms up over her head, holding her wrists at full extension. 
Then I started to thrust.

   "N...no!  Stop!  It hurts!  STOP!" Renee yelled.  But I wasn't about to.
Her ass was so incredibly tight and the heat was delicious.  She felt rough
and dry as I thrusted.  Her violated sphincter squeezed and pulled against
the skin of my erection.  She was struggling in earnest now, trying to buck
me off.  Renee was a strong little girl but nowhere near strong enough to
overcome my advantage of size and position.  All she managed to do was
twist and impale herself even more deeply, causing the pleasure I was
feeling to spiral ever upwards.  "STOP!  STOP!  STOP!" Her voice broke, and
I realized my young niece was crying.

   "Stop crying, slut!" I ordered her.  The scent of her sweat and her
anger was intoxicating.  I pumped faster.

   "Whyyyyy," Renee wailed.  "I'm not slutty, I don't want to, it hurts,
why are you doing this?  WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?"

   Why was I doing it?  Why was I raping the little girl who up to now had
been perfectly willing to consent to first oral, then anal and finally full
vaginal penetration?  Hell, not just willing but often eager.  Why was I
breaking her trust?

   Sweat stung my eyes and I answered honestly, without thinking.  "Cause I
have a boner," I gritted out.  "And it wants to fuck!" I released Renee's
wrists, moved my hands to her hips, and rocked back, pulling the little
girl half onto her knees with her face still shoved into the mattress.  "It
wants to FUCK!  It wants to FUCK!" I grunted in time with thrusts.  Renee's
sobs made a high-pitched counterpoint.  When I felt a hitch in the motion I
knew what it was.  I reached beneath Renee's body.  Sure enough, she had
worn a strap-on to bed and its head was snagging against the sheets,
pushing her butt up higher.  I grabbed it.  "YOU have a boner, too!" I
accused.  "And I know a slut like you wants to fuck with it!"

   "N...no!" Renee gasped out.  "Stop!  I...no!"

   I twisted onto my side, pulling the child with me, still fully
penetrated.  "Don't lie!  Slut!" I reached around and grabbed the fake
penis incongruously sprouting from Renee's smooth crotch.  I wagged it
violently and mashed the back of it against her bald little cunny.  She
jumped a little as it slapped against her belly, making her slight pudge
quiver.  "You're a slutty little girl with a big cock, and you want to fuck
with it.  Don't you?" I shoved and flexed and Renee eeped as my own
erection scraped against tender tissues.  "Don't you?" I insisted.

   "Y...yes," Renee groaned.  "I...I like to fuck...when I
feel...slutty...but...but, it hurrrts!" she insisted.

   "Yeah, you like to fuck," I repeated, ignoring the last part of her
exclamation.  I mimed jacking off with the fake cock, pressing and rubbing
it against the apex of her slit.  I was rewarded with a gasp.  "You want to
fuck with it right now, I can tell.  Slut." Calling her out of her name
like that was turning me on so fiercely I got short of breath.  "Moira!" I
barked.  She jumped, startled, and her head jerked around.  "Your daddy
wants you up here now, and he wants you bare-ass naked!" That was a
complete shot in the dark.  I had no idea but that she would tell me to get
bent, but I was hoping her fragile grip on sanity would make her
suggestible.

   And it worked.  Her green eyes were still blank as a doll's but Moira
stood up and in a single motion pulled her nightie up over her head and
dropped it on the floor.  She might be batshit but she was a beautiful
young woman.  Her breasts will full and firm with large brown areolae and
upward-pointing nipples.  Her belly was flat, her hips gracefully flared.
She needed a shave but the fuzzy stubble did not conceal the colorful
hearts and vines tattooed on her vulva to either side of her slit. 
Wordlessly she stepped up on the bottom bunk, grabbed the bedpost, and with
no apparent strain vaulted into the upper bunk.

   It was crowded up there.  It took a few seconds of maneuvering and "ow,
get your elbow out of my eye" to arrange ourselves.  We paused with Moira
flat on her back, legs spread.  Her inner lips were prominent and deep red,
almost brown, with just a hint of moist pink at the bottom where they
peeled slightly apart.  I was crouched on my knees before her.  I had one
hand pressed up against the ceiling for balance.  My other arm slanted
across Renee's belly with my hand on her shoulder, holding her pressed
against me.  She sat fully penetrated on my cock with her knees bent and
feet flat on the mattress.  Her strapon wobbled from side to side with her
panting breaths.

   "You ready to get fucked, Moira?" I asked, not actually caring one way
or the other.  I slid forward and tilted Renee's compact body down.  She
grabbed her penis in both hands and placed the bright pink tip at Moira's
opening.  I pressed.  It bent but didn't penetrate.  I tried again, same
result.  Moira lay still, her eyes fixed on the flyspecked ceiling, not
resisting but not helping either.

   "It won't go in!" Renee cried in frustration.  I leaned over her
shoulder and spit.  I missed, the glob landing just in the crease of
Moira's thigh, but Renee got the idea.  She started spitting herself, with
not much better accuracy but after several tries she was able to drag her
fake organ through the little puddles of saliva until the end glistened. 
She socketed it again against the bottom of Moira's slit and this time,
slowly, with more of my weight behind it, Moira's labia separated and then
folded inwards and the thick latex tube started to slide between them.

   "Ohhhhh my GOD!" I moaned.  I lay for a second with my full weight
pressed down on Moira with Renee sandwiched between us.  It felt awesome.
Moira's skin was hot and dry and her breasts spilled over Renee's narrow
shoulders.  She slid one foot up the back of my calf.  I tipped my pelvis
and my cock drove another fraction of an inch deeper into Renee's
ten-year-old rectum.  Moira took a deep breath but was otherwise
unresponsive to being fully penetrated.  I felt Renee squirming so I reared
back again, letting her raise herself up on her arms.  Her shoulderblades
stood out beneath the smooth, tan skin of her back.  Her waist-length brown
hair was tangled, mostly forward over her shoulders onto Moira's pale
torso. "You're fucking her!" I growled into Renee's ear.  "Fuck that whore,
slut!  Fuck her hard!"

   Gasping, squeaking in discomfort as I continued driving my own flesh
pole deeply into her ass, Renee obeyed.  Sounds of latex forcing itself
into insufficiently-lubricated membrane filled the room.  The little girl's
thrusts were out of rhythm with mine so we all three were gasping and
moaning irregularly.  I freed a hand to brush thick brown hair off of
Renee's sweaty forehead.  "Fuck her!" I repeated.

   "I am!" Renee yelled back.  "Goddammit!  I'm fucking you, Moira!  You
fucking whore!" She continued, panting with her exertion.  "You better...be
nice to my sister!  You better...fuck her good...keep her happy...If I find
out...you hurt her, I'll...I'll cut off your cunt!" she shouted in sudden
inspiration.  Her voice started to break.  Through it all Moira lay quiet,
looking straight up at the ceiling, eyes empty.  She winced but otherwise
gave no sign that she was being penetrated by a ten-year-old girl wearing a
strap-on dildo.

   "I'll cut it off!" Renee repeated.  "And keep it under my bed!  And fuck
it every night!  And you won't have a cunt!  Just a big nasty hole of
blood! I'll fuck it!  Like I'm fucking it now!" We were both really pushing
now, and the bunk bed was shaking and thumping against the wall and rocking
alarmingly.

   Then the screen door slammed.  Renee and I both looked up, startled.  It
was Karen.  She was still naked, still walking in a painful half-crouch
with one hand pressed between her thighs.  Her other hand was pressed
against her mouth, wide open in shock.  Her hair was wet from the shower.
She started trembling all over, casting droplets of water in a wide circle
around her.

   Then I felt Renee gulp a huge breath beneath me.  "Look, Karen!  I'm
fucking your wife, Karen!  I'm fucking your whore, your whore wife.  I'm
fucking her!  Fucking her!  Fuck, ooo, ooo, oooOOO, oooOOOoooOOOFFFFFUCK!"
Renee's sweat and Moira's eau de toilette were suddenly joined by the scent
of preteen arousal and I felt a little hot liquid dribble on my thigh.  The
fourth-grader's sphincter clamped down on me like a vise and a massive
shudder ran through her body.

   The feel of her hot skin against me, around me brought my own climax
boiling over.  "UUUUH!" I grunted as my testes drew up and semen shot up my
ureter, past the almost unbearable constriction of Renee's muscle ring, and
into her bowels, bathing us both in its momentary heat.  "UH!  I'm in your
ass!  Cum in your ass!" I babbled as pleasure swept my body.

   "OooOOOoooOOOoooyeeeeeaah!" Renee sighed and collapsed atop Moira, her
head pillowed on the young woman's bosom.  "I fucked your wife, Karen," she
sighed.

   All strength drained out of me.  I had just enough presence of mind to
sit back rather than fall forward.  My cock pulled free of Renee's back
passage with a loud, obscene slurp, leaving her asshole gaping and leaking
cum.  Renee groaned at the familiar sensation of air cooling raw tissues.
Beneath her Moira started to squirm around, making not a sound as she
dislodged herself with some difficulty, swung her leg over and dropped off
the bunk.  Her knees buckled slightly as they hit the floor.  But without a
word to anyone she picked up her shower kit and, still naked, stepped
around Karen and out the door.

   Karen remained stock-still, her face frozen in an almost comical
expression of shock.  I rolled Renee over on her back and wrapped a hand
around her penis, holding it straight up and gently jacking it.  I looked
into her angry hazel eyes.  A question occurred to me.  "Karen, where's
Lilah?"
   To be continued...