Random futa things

by Jokiba

Just as the title says pure smut

117. A Severe Case of SOH

A Severe Case of SOH

Jordan_Barber (orphan_account)

Summary:

Jorge is horrified when the doctor tells him his daughter might have an incurable case of SOH. Is there anything he can do?

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter 1: A Fraught Examination

Chapter Text

"Juanita Ramirez?" called the kindly, middle-aged nurse near the counter.

Jorge and his daughter both looked up, he from his nervous avoidance of anyone else's eyes in the powerfully musky waiting room, she from her shoes. They both stood up and made their way over to the nurse, Nita a fair bit more reluctantly and bowlegged than her father. Jorge tried to ignore several pitying looks the other parents gave him.

"Juanita?" the nurse asked as they got closer.

His daughter nodded, still looking down. She had her father's graceful features: beautiful, dusky brown skin and the straight black hair common to her lineage, grown traditionally long and braided down her back with a large, fluffy bow clipped at the top. They both had small frames, though her father's was much more muscled, if leanly so. Juanita also had full lips and a wide, ready smile under a delicate nose, long lashes and elfish ears. Until recently, she had been a normal, happy, bike-riding, sun-loving, book-crazy child. Jorge hated that her condition had slowly turned the normally ebullient little girl sadder and more reserved by the week.

"My name is Angela, I'm your nurse and I'll get the little stuff out of the way before the doctor sees you, okay?" She led them back through the halls to Room 12. It was like any exam room with the exception of an extra door inside and an obvious two-way mirror.

"That's an observation room," Angela informed him when she noticed the direction of his gaze. "Sounds like we might be making use of it today."

She ran his daughter through the usual preliminary checks: blood pressure, temperature, heart rate, height, weight. All the while, Angela asked questions around the problem without ever touching on the issue: where did she go to school, what grade was she finishing up, did she have anything planned for summer vacation, did she have any kids in her neighborhood she liked to play with, any new allergies or other health problems besides Juanita's SOH. It was making Jorge twitch. He answered when his daughter couldn't.

"Well, all that's out of the way. So, you came in last year on, let's see here, looks like the fourth of September. Oh, so right at the beginning of third grade. That sound about right? Okay, then can you please remove your dress, honey? I've just got a few more measurements to take. We're just updating the progress of your condition."

His daughter stood and sighed, long and woeful, then slipped the straps off her narrow shoulders. She pushed the fluffy-skirted dress down her flat chest, then had to push harder as it reached her hips. Not because she had hips—at nine years old, she was skinny as a rail, just like most of her classmates. The dress bunched up on the thick, trunk-like protuberance of her flopping, drooping cock and balls.

Angela had undoubtedly seen the effects of Spontaneous Onset Hermaphroditism on many adolescents, but even she couldn't help but widen her eyes at the girth and length of the little girl's cock or the swollen balls the size of her fists straining her hanging sack. The room quickly filled with the full strength of Nita's unique scent, a sweet and clinging petrichor, and both the nurse and Jorge took deep, involuntary breaths.

The nurse finally tore her eyes from her subject and looked at the short fabric tape in her hand, realizing the child's size measuring tool wouldn't do in this case, then made embarrassed eye contact with Jorge. "Uh, I'll, um. I'll be right back. Just a moment." She clipped her own shoulder with the door on her way out in her awkward haste.

Juanita let out another long-suffering sigh. "Papà, I'm a freak. I can accept that."

Jorge closed his eyes, partly in sympathy, but mostly so he didn't have to see the massive genitals hanging between his daughter's skinny legs. "The doctor will know what's wrong, mi hija."

"Do you think I don't know what's wrong? You didn't fix it like you said you would. You promised."

Jorge cringed, knowing she was right. His guilt ran deep and strong, and for several long moments he thought he might vomit.

A brisk knock let Angela back in, the doctor trailing her. They both took the familiar involuntarily deep breaths. The doctor's eyes widened immediately with concern.

"How... How is it so advanced? Her testicles had barely begun to descend last I saw her!" She took the measuring tape from Angela and knelt in front of Juanita.

Doctor Liana Teeuw was confidently wearing low heels despite being abnormally tall for a woman, much less an Indonesian woman, so she had to bend even further to get close enough to read the small numbers. Seeing a stunning, grown woman kneel in front of such a girthy, swarthy prick and balls was perverse enough, but that they were attached to a child was mind-bendingly disconcerting for Jorge.

"Body circumference, eleven and a half centimeters. Glans circumference, twelve and a half centimeters. Length, twenty-four centimeters. My... goodness. The testicles are large enough to weigh, now. Angela, please get the scale. Foreskin length..."

She maintained her diagnostic chatter with the nurse as Jorge mentally converted the numbers to inches. Four and a half, five, and nine and a half inches respectively. Basically, almost exactly double the size of his own erect penis.

But Juanita was completely flaccid.

"Mr. Ramirez, you came in here almost nine months ago. She had barely more than an engorged clitoris at that point. There is only one way known to reverse this condition! Have you not been administering it to your daughter?"

"Of course I have been!" His face burned and his stomach turned with shame at the memory. "I've been trying every day. I... I started as you said, with," he couldn't meet anyone's eyes, "I used only my finger to massage her, at first. But she kept growing."

"Yes, of course, and when you called me, I told you that has been known to happen in some cases. It is a matter of inertia."

He was stuttering, incapable of responding. Nita looked judgementally at him, then back at the doctor as she continued to rant over his useless spluttering.

"Sometimes the growth is too fast to be slowed by pressure on the budding prostate alone. Did you not try the treatment for Severe SOH? I told you, you must trigger both a physiological and psychological submission response! Administered properly, she should have begun shrinking within a couple weeks! How often were you penetrating her?"

He stared, open-mouthed at her. "Please! I am a God-fearing man! This is my daughter!" He hid his face with his hands and sobbed, dry, wracking, and pathetic.

"He tried to put his penis in my butt every day, Doctor." The words sounded flat, emotionless, and too high from her little voice. "Sometimes twice a day. And he always cries like this." Jorge cringed and continued crying, hearing his daughter describe the utterly inappropriate state of things.

The nurse and doctor shared a glance. Angela, who had been earnestly breathing the aphrodisiac miasma rising from Nita, exhaled shakily. "And did he... ejaculate inside you, Juanita?"

The little girl scoffed. "He hasn't gotten fully hard the last two months. I even heard mommy complain once. He came the very first time but hasn't been able to since then."

Angela inhaled, mostly out of shock this time.

"And what about you, Juanita? Did you ejaculate?"

The girl nodded, resigned. "I've been coming for months, but only after Papà gives up. Mommy tells me I come too much."

Nurse Angela asked, a barely contained note of panic in her voice, "your mother? How is she involved?"

Nita shrugged. "She's been supervising for a while, now. She said Papà must not be doing it right because I keep growing. She got annoyed with me the first time I came. I ruined the couch. Now I have to wear condoms. I hate them, and sometimes they break 'cause I fill them too much. I don't think I should anymore."

"Oh, no." Doctor Teeuw abruptly stood and opened the door to the observation room, pulling a twenty-liter bucket from the other side. She placed it on the floor in front of her patient. "Did you hold your urine like you were asked to before you came? Could you urinate right now, Juanita? I need to run some more tests."

Nita nodded. "I didn't go to the bathroom at all this morning."

"Okay, good. When you're done, cover the bucket with this lid and make sure it screws all the way tight." Liana turned to Jorge. "Mr. Ramirez, you and Angela follow me to the observation room. I have several things I need to say to you while we give her privacy."

Jorge knuckled his eyes and followed the two women into the other room.

As soon as the door was closed behind him, the doctor rounded on him, eyes burning with intensity. "You have created the exact conditions needed to turn your daughter into a monster, Mr. Ramirez."

His heart dropped into his stomach and he subconsciously backed up against the door.

"SOH can hit any female differently, it's not so bad if they've gone through puberty before it's contracted, but you made it worse during pre-pubescence. You edged, you failed to even marginally dominate her, and you humiliated yourself in front of her and a third party. And your wife of all people. This is an emergency. That virus is changing her brain as we speak, she's already thinking of you as insufficient. It could trigger her pituitary gland at any moment, flooding her brain with a virally modified hormone cocktail, and she will become your worst nightmare."

Liana realized she was pinning him with a finger in his chest and took a deep breath as she stepped back. A microphone in the other room's ceiling was picking up the sound of a heavy liquid flow, the sound coming through speakers above them. Recently, he had heard her flushing the toilets at home from the strength and volume of her pissing into it.

"I apologize for getting carried away. But this is the most severe case this clinic has ever seen. Truly, Mr. Ramirez, you could not have made this situation any more dangerous without begging her to fuck you. Goodness! She's got me all riled up. I do apologize. I'm finding it hard to be professional." She leaned on the counter under the glass, peering into the room. "Look at your daughter."

Jorge breathed, jittery, as he turned to the window. He gave a sharp intake of breath when he saw his daughter's glowering countenance on the other side. She seemed to glare straight at him as she pissed a heroic, impossible stream into the bucket. From his angle, he could see the level begin to froth higher as she filled it in an endless, splattering current. Her little hand looked doll-like as it held the perverted length of foreskin back from her wide mushroom-head. Her piss-hole was at least as big around as her thumb.

"You have a time-bomb on your hands, Mr. Ramirez. This whole situation, what I have to tell her in a bit, I wouldn't be surprised if the process completes tonight. She's that close. It was a risk to even give her this chance at exhibition. It's just one more way to dominate."

"What can we do?" he asked, adrift in misery. Nita's discharge was finally weakening, just as the piss bubbles, large and constantly popping as the liquid sloshed, were reaching the rim.

"In my opinion, all we can do is mitigate the damage. I'll get that sample tested and give you an emergency referral to the foremost specialist. Luckily for you, she's based here so your answer will be quick. But... Well I fear her answer will be no different."

In the next room, Nita flopped her dick at the bucket. It was nearly charming she worried about the last few drops when the splashback had already spattered the floor copiously.

"What... what do I do, then? What happens to her now?"

The doctor and the nurse explained, finishing the other's sentences when one halted, disjointedly, increasingly transfixed by Nita.

"We must wait several minutes for the fumes to dissipate. They would be too overwhelming this close to the change."

Nita finished running a finger over the fat tube on the underside of her member and then let her foreskin envelop the end of her cock again. It dangled like an empty worm. Jorge had always found her genitals to be disconcerting, bordering on horrific in their increasing virility—all the more because they were attached to such a petite frame.

"After that, we go in and inform her of the next steps we'll take..."

The grade-schooler walked over to consider the lid of the bucket, finally affixed it, then gave the bucket a testing heft and obviously found it too much to lift.

Watching the medical professionals' pupils dilate as they viewed his daughter was giving Jorge anxiety. Almost frantic, he asked, "but what will happen to her?"

"She'll get angry." Angela turned to him and Jorge couldn't help but think she looked excited at the thought. "And then she's going to take control!"

A powerful shudder galloped down his spine.

Juanita dragged the bucket over to the door of the observation room, her struggle with the near 40-pound bucket audible within. Jorge spun to the door as she turned the handle and saw nobody had locked it. Before he could stop it, the door opened and her scent along with an invisible cloud of piss musk, more potent than the smell of her genitals for its freshness, flowed in. It was made twice as bad when she bent to open the bucket back up, the primary source of the smell was exposed. It punched him in the nose and the doctor and nurse both gasped aloud.

"I filled your stupid tub," she said, haughtily. Jorge had never before imagined an exit so effectively blocked by a grade-schooler. "Are you still ogling me, or can I put my clothes back on? It's cold in here. My nipples are like tacks."

"Nita! Don't say such—oof!"

Jorge crumpled, cradling the testicles just tenderized by his daughter's fist.

"That was from Mom. She said if the doctors couldn't help me, it was all your fault. I wish I'd saved some piss for you, maricòn. Maybe when we get home." She turned to walk back into the exam room but stopped. "The floor has pee all over it. One of you pick me up and put me on the table so I can get dressed."

Angela quickly stepped over the girl's father and scooped her up like a frail little bride.

"Well?" the girl demanded when the nurse paused. "Are you going to just stand there drooling over my cock?"

Angela quickly moved the girl to the table. The girls' little feet crinkled the paper as she waited for the nurse to bring her dress lying folded on the chair. Doctor Teeuw didn't even consciously realize she stepped over the still groaning father as she leaned in the doorway to fawn over Juanita's perfect body. They were both of darker skin, one with red and the other with yellow undertone, as well as sharing long, glossy black hair. Big, brown eyes, thin build, long limbs and delicate bones. The doctor had a brief daydream watching the little girl pull the dress over her head that she could have been her own fierce, beautiful daughter in another life.

The nurse was standing right next to her, doing her utmost to keep her hands off the girl. When Juanita noticed, she glared down at her. "Do you need something?"

So long exposed and so near to the scent wafting from under her skirts, Angela only moaned, biting her lip. The little girl noticed. "You look like a whore. And you're too ugly. Hmph." She looked at the doctor, similarly entranced by the lolita standing before her. "You're much prettier. Make yourselves useful. I'm too backed up, and I don't want to use anymore stupid condoms."

She hiked up her skirt and waggled her girthy length at the doctor. "C'mon. Hurry up."

Doctor Teeuw crossed the space in a blink, the base of the obscenely dangling genitals right at eye level. She looked up into the little girl's eyes and quivered when she saw cruelty poised there.

Well, the doctor thought to herself, I guess we did push her over the edge.

Then, as the little girl presented the puckered tip of her drooping foreskin for a kiss, the doctor thought, and thank god for that!

Juanita moaned, and Liana blushed. She'd cured many cases in the short history of her private practice, but so far had only read about this second stage of the disease. She knew the pheromones were doing a number on her frontal lobe, inhibiting her impulse control as well as stimulating her hypothalamus to crank out hormones with all the subtlety of a volcanic eruption. She had read of the effects, but none of the literature had ever explained just how good it felt. It felt right to slurp the flopping skin into her mouth and suck on it like a straw. It felt gratifying to satisfy her taste buds by sliding her long tongue beneath the extra skin and sample the flavor of the covered organ. It felt proper to challenge her own physical limits and pull the wide, mushrooming head into her mouth with a cheek-hollowing vacuum. She was rewarded further with another moan from her patient as the girl placed her hands on the back of the professional's head and bid her deeper.

Nita bent over the doctor's head as the woman sucked on her fuck rod. "Yes. That's better." She turned and saw the nurse watching her boss with rapt attention and reached back to grab a handful of her hair, as well. "You're staring like a retard. Get your stupid tongue up my asshole." She bent a little more as she shoved the other woman's head between her narrow cheeks.

Jorge finally managed to rise to his knees and feared how his eyes might confirm what his ears were telling him. He felt his face turn white as the blood rushed from his head, making him feel faint.

His little Nita had clawed the nurse's hair out of its bun, grabbing a lopsided double-fistful and tugging like reins. She was scrubbing Angela's face with her ass, the tendons on her forearms standing out as she pulled ruthlessly. In front of her, the doctor was making love to the girl's pisshole, moaning while tonguing the wide opening then letting the foreskin cover it again so she could slurp on the hanging flesh.

"¡Santo dios! Mi hija, please." He crawled forward, heedless of the pee splatters. He felt weak, not just from the unique effects of testicular trauma, but from the dual miasmas rising off Juanita's crotch and her heady piss. His head felt foggy, his thinking slow and shallow. His muscles were wobbly as if atrophied. He felt like a strong wind could blow him over.

Juanita glared into Liana's rapturous face. "Shut that worthless faggot up or you don't get anything."

Jorge looked fearfully up at the now fierce countenance of the doctor. "Please, help my daughter. She doesn't underst—augh!" She stepped on him until his face hit the wet floor with a splat. Her heel ground into his cheek.

"Stick out your tongue," she stepped on him harder until he poked his tongue out. "Now make yourself useful and clean the floor."

With her annoying sperm donor now occupied, and the nurse learning to keep her mouth firmly fastened around her patient's puckered asshole, Nita could focus on what she wanted. First, she wiped away Liana's pathetic, simpering smile by battering the doctor's mouth open with her fat prick. Then she hauled on the back of her head as hard as she could, burying herself in the doctor's graceful throat. The girl could feel her victim's gorge rise, but her girth completely blocked her passage and Doctor Teeuw was forced to swallow her bile back down. She struggled, placing her hands on Nita's thighs to try and catch a breath, but the girl put one forearm under her skull while the other rained down brutal punches on the back of her head.

Eventually, battered and faint from lack of oxygen, as well as increasingly muddled by the pheromones, the doctor submitted to having her throat resized. As soon as she began going limp, Nita yanked her head back with a double handful of hair.

"You want my cum, don't you, stupid?" she growled, managing to make her high voice menacing. The doctor only gasped, brainlessly.

Nita hauled back and slapped her as hard as she could. Liana reeled, then was realigned to have her face stuffed again, the fat cock covered in throat slime and bitter bile shoved right back down. She retched, to the same effect as before, then was pushed back to look up into her abuser's face.

"You're supposed to be so smart. But you're just a pedophile retard addicted to girl cock. Aren't you!"

Liana nodded but was slapped again for her trouble, then jammed full of dick again.

The fight was completely gone from the woman, so Nita began fucking her face. Her abdomen crashed into the professional's small nose while her big balls slapped the underside of her chin. Angela was forced to hold on to the girl's hips to keep her lips and tongue sucking on and diving into her asshole while the doctor's head was pulled into Nita's crotch hard enough to bounce the nurse back.

Juanita could feel the approach as her balls tingled and tightened against her body. With one final, savage tug, she hilted herself in the doctor's throat and unloaded. Her shitpipe puckered open and sucked on Angela's tongue while being sucked in turn by the nurse's hungry lips.

Jorge looked up, bleary eyed, his face dripping with the piss he'd been licking up, when he heard his daughter howling in release. This close, he could hear her body pumping the doctor full. Teeuw's throat was taut around an impossible swell, the front of her neck rhythmically bulging with the contents of Juanita's thick cumvein. The doctor's eyes rolled back in her head as she was filled, Nita humping her face and groaning throughout her orgasm as if it hurt.

Liana slumped down unconsciously, and Jorge just barely caught her head before it hit the floor. A long, unbroken, looping rope of cum as wide as his fingers landed on her cheek, ear, neck and shoulder. He looked up to see his daughter turning swiftly, one hand jerking her massive cock while the other controlled Angela's head. Juanita jammed her cock against her right nostril and fired another huge rope, sending the nurse into a coughing fit, only for her to jam it against the other nostril for the next shot. Then she pulled her head back and slopped the last of her cum onto the woman's face. She covered her eyes and forehead with slimy ropes until it looked like one solid blast of curdling yogurt.

"Aaah," the little girl sighed as Angela went to her hands and knees to clear her sinuses of the painful blockage.

She was almost panting as she surveyed her work, her brown skin glistening with sweat as she considered the human wreckage. The nurse was coughing so hard she was intermittently dry heaving. Doctor Teeuw was passed out, cum dribbling from the corner of her mouth onto Jorge's hand, and there was a subtle swell in the tall woman's abdomen, as if she had eaten particularly well. Which Juanita supposed she had.

Her father was breathing as hard as she was, covered in her piss.

"Revolting," she judged, pulling her dress down properly. "Get me my shoes and clean these whores up. I'll get myself home."

Jorge stood on the front step of his house for almost half an hour before he got the nerve to open the door. He could hear moaning inside. How twisted his life had become that he hoped it was somebody blasting pornography at an inappropriate volume.

But he knew it wasn't.

He went inside. His wife's voice, loudly complimenting the size of somebody's fat cock, drifted down from upstairs. She had never spoken during sex, finding it to be offputtingly crude. Once, her breathy moans as they made frantic love had been his music. How freakish his life had become, how utterly nightmarish, that as he climbed the stairs to their room, he hoped to find another man in his marital bed. A marital bed they'd shared since just after high school. A marital bed they'd conceived their daughter in. As he stumbled like a somnambulist down the hall, past Juanita's closed door, he prayed that when he entered his room, he would find his wife was cheating on him with another man.

But he knew he wouldn't.

Guadalupe Ramirez was bent at the waist over the foot of the bed, clutching the duvet with her outstretched hands. Her head was craned back, pulled by her long hair, as Juanita was using it and her feet planted on either side of her mother's wide hips to balance on the corner of the mattress. She was using all her weight to swing down and in to her mother's pelvis in a crashing arc, sending the woman's meaty butt jiggling with the impact and her thick thighs trembling with pleasure. The little girl's nutsack slapped heavily into her mother's clit like a doubled wrecking ball.

"Lupe..." he managed, limply.

If they heard him, they ignored him.

Nita slammed into her again and her mother screamed, squirming suddenly and violently. Nita hopped gracefully back and a bit to the side to watch her mom's hips hitching, humping air as thick, white lubricant burst from her hairy pussy with a vulgar, belching BLOOP—BLOORP. He noticed there was a mess down the side of the mattress and inside either thigh of the same goopy femcum, and a pile of it between her feet, thick enough to rest atop the carpet but obviously being added to for long enough to begin soaking into it.

With dull eyes, he looked at his daughter, who had noticed he was home. She had a nasty grin on her face as she met his eyes. His gaze slid down her body, over her flat chest, the muscles around her navel only visible due to low body fat. Her slim hips and thighs, and between, jutting like a fort cannon, was her nearly foot long cock and at least a pound of testicles. They were coated in the same creamy girl jizz as had just been expelled from his wife's gaping cunt.

He'd seen it before, his wife's ability to secrete her thick pussy juice, but only in the rarest of occasions, when the sexual stars aligned. It would coat his average penis and drip down his balls at her climax.

But this was a pool of the stuff. There was five times as much in this one instance as he'd seen in the last fifteen years with her combined.

"I'm thirsty. And it looks like my bitch could use some more fluids before I give her mine. Go get us some water."

He stood, mouth agape like a fish. Lupe turned her head—still panting and her muscles randomly hitching in orgasm aftershocks—and spied him over her shoulder.

"Jorge... you worthless... asshole."

"Lupe, I-I'm so sorry. She's not herself, the doctor—"

"Not herself? She's her... perfect self." Her head fell back to the mattress. "I've never felt so fucking good. Her monster fucking dick, her huge fucking balls, they feel soouuugh—God!" She had another orgasm right there, just from thinking about getting fucked. Her still-gaping inner walls clenched around a phantom insertion.

"You can't mean that! It's just the pheromones! There may still be a cure for Juanita."

Her mini-orgasm jittered to a stop and she turned again, this time rising to one elbow to squarely look him in the eye. "You think I could ever go back to a tiny, limp-dick faggot like you? Your daughter, a little girl has made me cum more than you could in the next fifty years. I'm a fucking slut for her giant underage cock, Jorge."

Juanita had apparently lost her patience, for she climbed on the bed and shoved her cock in her mother's face with a casual, "clean me, whore." She turned to her father, once her other parent began slurping and sucking up and down the broad length of her like a ten-dollar hooker. "Go get water. I've got two more holes to resize."

Jorge found himself downstairs, filling two large glasses from the fridge dispenser. And then he found himself in the corner of his room, on a chair that usually held laundry en route to somewhere useful, watching his wife be plowed by a prepubescent hermaphrodite. Lupe kept making a slimy mess until Juanita came, flooding her mother's womb and then the mattress as the overflow oozed out like yellow-white mud. Nita stood over her mother's raised butt, letting the last of her long orgasm flow off her tip, into the top of Lupe's asscrack, then down the slope of her spine.

She turned to him. "That's all you get to eat now, faggot. Her slops or mine. You can lick it off the floor or suck it out of the sheets. This cunt is mine, now. She's just a cunt for me to fuck. Her name is Cunt, because that's all she is to me. Nobody touches my Cunt for any reason. Got it?"

He nodded, dazed. He didn't even feel a part of reality anymore.

What could he do?

A week later, Jorge wore women's underwear at all times. When he wasn't at work, he was home—in only his underwear—fetching and carrying for his daughter and her Cunt, cleaning up after their sex with his mouth.

Lupe—Cunt—never wore clothes anymore. She groomed her pussy into a cute landing strip, but nothing could pretty up her backside. Most of the time her shitter hung out from between her wide cheeks like a windsock because of how often Nita filled her ass with her fat dick. The insane prolapse wobbled and flopped, constantly dripping cum that Jorge followed behind to clean up after each anal session until the inflammation went down enough she could push it back inside.

His wife was officially Cunt, but they rarely bothered to even address him anymore. If they did, it was only as Faggot or Maricòn. In addition to being the laundry machine, he also became the house urinal. It was all he was allowed to drink. He preferred his wife's waste. Nita nearly drowned him every time as he almost instantly overfilled but had to sit there and endure her endless stream.

It was another two weeks, when Summer break officially started, that a thought suddenly pierced through the pheromone fog in his mind.

There had been a specialist. Hadn't Doctor Teeuw said she was nearby?

Jorge rose from the chair in the corner and left the room, completely ignored by the rutting figures on his bed, and went downstairs.

He had a call to make.

Chapter 2: A Warm Meal

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Jorge sat at the table and marveled at the smell of the bacon that his wife Lupe… that Cunt was cooking. The notorious sizzle and pop accompanied the heavenly smell, strong enough to momentarily mask the now ubiquitous Juanita musk that flooded the house, and he enjoyed it as much as he could. He wouldn't be eating any of it, of course. He had his own meal right in front of him, his wife providing it a few minutes before.

It was a bowl of clumpy, chowdery cum, still bowel-hot from when she'd squatted onto the floor and hovered over the bowl to shit it out. He'd watched her tube-like prolapse dangle down and wobble with the expulsion that overflowed the bowl and slopped down the sides. The pool of excess cum was still laying on the linoleum, the negative space where the bowl had been was still perfectly round as the cum was far too thick to run together.

It smelled terrible. Nita's first ejaculation of the day always did, as if the extra thick wad in her balls fermented overnight. As a first-hand expert, Jorge could see his daughter's nightmare biology changing over the weeks. Her dick hadn't gotten any larger, but it had gotten more veiny, her foreskin longer and thicker, but most noticeably her cum had gotten more horrifying as the days passed. Her fat dick burped long, greasy loads with intermittent blasts of coagulated ballsnot he had to chew to be able to swallow and not gag on, and they were only getting more copious and more frequent.

Sometimes Juanita got tired of seeing him laying on the floor beside the bed—on the dog bed she'd made him buy—and sent him out of the room so she could "fuck the Cunt in peace". He'd spend the next noisy couple of hours downstairs on the desktop, researching the condition. He'd found a forum for family members of those affected by SOH. It was conspicuously devoid of female members, and he found depressingly little relief in reading there were hundreds more fathers and grandfathers, brothers and cousins, uncles and neighbors affected by cases like his daughter's. If anything, he could only dread some of the advancing symptoms Juanita shared with some of the situations he read about.

The specialist had been no help at all. Her receptionist, after gathering Jorge's information, had patched him through to Dr. Vanessa Vandeberg and it sounded like she answered the phone in the middle of a jujitsu sparring session. She grunted and panted while another voice further away did the same. She'd been incredibly unprofessional, hardly listening to his plight, rudely interrupting him with impatient questions, and to top it off at the end of his explanation she'd said he sounded "like a sad little bitch". She'd told him she was busy for the next week and then hung up on him.

But then that very morning, he'd been woken up by her phone call. They all had been, and Jorge had to pretend it was Doctor Teeuw from the clinic. Juanita had spit at him and rolled over to go back to sleep. But the news had been exciting.

Finally, his life would be normal again. He could stop wearing the lacy underwear he was in. He could field questions about his home life when he was at work without having to lie. He could show his face in church once more.

Jorge smiled down at his lumpy breakfast, the last bowl of cum he'd ever have to eat. Then his stomach rumbled, protesting its emptiness, and he raised the bowl to his lips.

His long, starving swallows turned into a choke as he heard his daughter suddenly yelling.

"What the fuck is this, Faggot?!" He and Cunt both looked to see Juanita with a foot in the pile of cum on the kitchen floor. "Why haven't you eaten your meal?"

"But I am eating!" He cringed that he'd raised his voice in defense, and then another, ever smaller part of him wailed at his first reaction.

She noticed his bowl and her frown turned into a glower. She looked at her mother. "You gave him a bowl to eat out of? He should be eating off the floor like the worthless pig he is. No, shut up!" she yelled to stop Cunt from replying. "I'm so sick of you idiots getting everything wrong. Turn around and finish my breakfast."

Cunt meekly turned back to the stove then yelped as Juanita jammed her little fist into her prolapsed asshole, pushing it back between her cheeks, shoving her arm in up to the elbow. Juanita opened her hand and swabbed around a couple times to snag the clingiest, stickiest clumps of cum, then tore her hand back out, pulling the prolapse right back out along with another runnel of nearly jellied cum to splat onto the floor. Cunt's knees almost buckled and she moaned in ecstasy, fully devoid of any parental instinct whatsoever, much less the most basic sense of propriety.

Jorge boggled, wide-eyed, as his diminutive daughter marched toward him, her massive cock and balls banging off her thin thighs. She stepped up next to him and wound back, and he found himself completely incapable of defending himself from the wet slap that nearly spun him out of his chair.

"You don't get to eat like a person, Faggot," she said, then dumped the rest of his meal next to the pile already on the floor, tossing the bowl into the sink before walking back over to her mother who was already back to happily humming at the range. "I need to piss. Might as well feed you, too."

Jorge watched, horror not at all diminished by seeing this multiple times over the last three weeks, as his wife happily hunched low on her hands and knees, her colon nearly dangling to the floor, and slurp Nita's long foreskin into her mouth. She sucked more of it until she could get her lips around the head as well, long-schooled not to use her hands, and had only a second to moan before Nita tilted her head back and sighed, fists on narrow hips.

Watching her cheeks bulge over and over, her throat working constantly to keep up, her lips stretched wide around Nita's fat shaft, Jorge couldn't help but be jealous. He wasn't allowed the convenience of drinking straight from the tap. He had to put a plastic tube in his mouth while she snugged the tip of her dick against the other end so she didn't have to touch him.

Cunt looked several months pregnant when Juanita was finally done, and she breathed hard through her nose as she sucked on her daughter's dick while Nita ran a finger along her urethra to strain the last of it out in her mom's mouth. The prostrate woman rubbed her swollen stomach and moaned, shuddering in a small orgasm, and a forceful splat landed between her legs as thick grool ejected from her womanhood with a heavy hitch of her hips.

"Now hurry up with breakfast. I always have to eat last around you stupid sluts. It gets on my fucking nerves."

Jorge winced at the rough language, completely at odds coming from what looked like a sweet little girl to the unsuspecting, and got on his hands and knees to clean up the floor.

He frowned at his lumpy, now cooling breakfast, the last... pile of cum he'd ever have to eat. His stomach rumbled in protest again.

He lowered his mouth to the linoleum.

Jorge made his way down the stairs to answer the doorbell, ecstatic despite it coming half an hour later than he'd been told it would. He wore his house robe, the single concession to modesty Juanita had allowed while he was at home. Single-minded as she was, she was still wise enough to know she needed some representative from the nominally adult world for the household. Underneath, he still wore only the lacy women's panties.

As he descended the stairs, he was happy enough to hear the raping of his wife's face had quieted down enough it couldn't be heard past the closed bedroom door, but even better was the adrenaline of pending salvation. Every step down the stairs was like a step out of his own personal Hell. He took a deep breath and opened the door.

Doctor Vanessa Vandeberg was nothing at all like he expected. Brusque and short as she'd been on the phone, her voice had sounded high and sweet, more impatiently distracted than harsh (if somewhat unprofessional, in his opinion). He'd pictured a busy middle-aged woman.

She couldn't be much older than thirty. Her youthful face was apple-cheeked, and he wasn't expecting to have to look up to meet her brilliant blue eyes. She had honey colored hair pulled back in a utilitarian bun and was quite pretty. Her modest blouse could only hide her ample chest so well, and her long, loose skirt with sensible flats made her seem all the more professional.

But it was her muscles that really put him off. Her shoulders were wider than his, and what he could see of her legs and forearms were striated with corded musculature. She looked down at him from the other side of the threshold and instantly a frown formed that turned her sweet face into a thunderhead.

"Jorge Ramirez?"

He nodded, his mouth slightly agape as he took her in.

She scoffed and moved inside, her whole life's experience giving her confidence he'd wilt out of her way without needing to be told. "Where's my patient?"

He closed the door and gawked at the amazonian Danish woman dominating his living room simply by standing there. He needn't have answered because of an especially loud choking sound coming down from upstairs just then. She gave another sardonic scoff and shook her head in the direction of the sound. "You didn't tell her, did you?" She turned her disapproving gaze to see him shaking his head. "Is that because I told you not to or because she never asked?"

"Uh… She never—"

"Too bad. We'll have to see if you can follow my directions against hers then. I'm guessing that's either her sister or her mother I'm hearing up there?"

He swallowed a lump in his throat.

She smiled cruelly at his difficulty answering. "Your wife then. I'd feel bad for your situation if it weren't entirely your fault. You could have saved your daughter, saved your wife, and saved your own useless life from this path." Now she sneered. "Pathetic."

He looked at his feet, struggling to summon the barest wisps of his former genial assertiveness. He found he could at least speak to the ground. "I-I-I don't think it's… I don't think it's pathetic that a man couldn't… do those terrible things to his own child daughter."

He heard her inhale deeply and he cringed before he looked up to confirm her distaste in him. She tossed her head at the continued brutality she could hear upstairs. "No use in interrupting a rut before I've even started training her. Why don't you and I have a little chat about 'terrible things' while we wait."

She walked into the kitchen as if it were her own home and he followed meekly at her heels, seating himself at the table.

"Tea?" she asked with an arched eyebrow. He gestured to a cupboard and she placed the kettle on, then rummaged through more cupboards for sugar, a spoon, and a single cup.

He sat at the table and stole glances at her back that was fairly broad for a woman and her much narrower waist, watching her anatomy ripple potently beneath her clothing. She moved like a dancer, or a martial artist, every extension of limb efficient and graceful. Though her skirt was loose, he could still see she had a large butt, and couldn't help but entertain a brief daydream of her in a spray tan and thin bikini, flexing ridiculous muscles in even more ridiculous poses for a panel of judges.

She ignored him as she prepared her tea, and only turned her head slightly to speak to him as she enjoyed her hot drink. "I was the first one in my country afflicted with SOH, twenty years ago. The very first of my kind. My native tongue doesn't even have its own word for 'hermaphrodite', we had to borrow it just like English." He was surprised, she had no trace of an accent. "There was no treatment that was known to work, then."

She was silent for so long, he thought perhaps he was supposed to be asking questions. Juanita had evidently moved on to plowing her mother, and Guadalupe's grunting, enthusiastic vocalizations filtered into the kitchen from above them.

"Do you know what kind of harem an unchecked, untreated virus can build over four years in a village of five hundred people?" She glared at him from the corner of her eye. "Any idea what kind of tyrant a child can become with that much unquestioned power? It took a small military operation to separate my village from me."

She turned back to her tea, still standing at the counter rather than join him at the table. "I increased the population there by more than twenty-five percent before I left. Uunngh," she grunted oddly, her back straightening slightly. Now she did finally bring her steaming cup to the table. He shrank beneath her eagle's glare.

"You were going to let your daughter fall into such a terrible situation." He shook his head, but she pressed on, disgusted with him. "You let that virus colonize your house. Next she would take over your neighborhood. She'd stop caring about any societal ties whatsoever. She'd fill every hole she came across before... Huunngh," she winced, again her back straightening inexplicably as one eye squinted. "She'd take over her school, plant babies in every womb whether their owner's were aware they were fertile or not. And you would all be slaves to her need. Uungh-God." Wince. Back twitch.

"Fuck." She leaned down and he could shrink back from her no more. "You would have taken her childhood from her. Destroyed her humanity." She drove a finger into his chest, digging it between his ribs, and he could only squirm as he met her electric blue eyes. "You are a worthless, neglecting, dog shit excuse for a parent, and you. Will. Pay for that."

He moaned, mewled an apology. She straightened, her glare pinning him to his seat, and took a sip of her tea. "You're going to start paying right now. Grab your seat, and don't you dare let go until I say so." Inexplicably compelled, his hands clenched at the edges of his chair, white-knuckled, and he swallowed audibly.

With a clink, she set down her cup and stepped close to him, then with surgical precision, she slapped one hand between his legs to grasp the chair seat and another beside his head on the backrest, then set a foot at the back legs. With the easy leverage, she tipped him back. He fell with a jarring thud, rattling his teeth, but his grip kept him from bouncing backward.

She shook her head when his robe fell back to reveal his panties. "Revolting. You make me want to puke. Did you ever truly call yourself a man?" She bent and grabbed his dick and balls in one hand, squeezing roughly, and it took all of him not to let go of the chair. "You ever thought of yourself as a father? How could you do this to yourself?"

She growled in frustration and then shocked him by bending at the waist to pull her skirt down her hips until it pooled at her ankles. She was indeed as muscular as he'd guessed, her thighs bulging with fascinating slabs of muscle, eclipsing any possibility of a thigh gap. A riotous bush of dark blonde pubic hair hid her vulva.

"Please don't hurt me," he wheezed as images of her stepping on his genitals or crushing his skull between her thighs flashed through his mind.

She snorted, a sneering twist to her lips made her smile all the more threatening. "You'll be cleaning up a mess. I'm sure you're used to it. It's the least you can do to repay me for cleaning up your mess."

She stepped out of each of her flats and over him to straddle him, and then time seemed to slow down. As her long, muscular leg stepped out over his torso, he got another look at where it met her pelvis. A hot, dense stone settled into his stomach as he realized he'd heard her mention of a cure for SOH earlier and mistakenly filled in the detail as it being something that was found later.

Her pubic hair wasn't hiding the outer lips of her womanhood, they were covering the angry, veiny cock tucked between her legs. As her undercarriage came to rest directly over his face, he could see her ass was indeed as enormous and sculpted as he'd suspected, and also that her cock disappeared between her pale cheeks.

She squatted over him, his eyes going wide as one of her hands pinned his forehead down to balance. "Open your mouth." Slowly he complied, hinging his jaw open humiliatingly wide. "Now pull my cock out."

He finally let go of his chair and, unable to look away from her glare, felt blindly at her underside, first getting a double handful of an ass he could bounce a coin off of, then finding the meaty shaft of her cock and wrapping his fingers around it as best he could.

It pulsed, then, and her face became rigid as she grunted that same odd grunt, her back straightening, and he realized with a doomed horror what mess he was about to be cleaning up.

"Pull it out, you worthless excuse for a man!"

He tugged at the quarter-chub, stretching it in it's mostly flaccid elasticity, and it began sliding. And sliding. And sliding. He went hand over hand twice, partly marveling at what he was feeling, partly screaming internally at the insanity of her size, until it popped out of her ass wetly. A surprisingly small bit of her girlcum squirted onto his neck, hot and thick.

She reached back and gripped his balls again and this time his hands went involuntarily to her wrist, but it was obvious from her quick reposition that she'd merely wanted him to let go of her. She braced herself and rose a bit, letting her slick cockhead drag up along his face until it flopped over the top of his head and lay on the floor. It was only the beginning.

Now she was more over the top half of his face, he could see there was more flesh still inside her. Her scrotum, pulled tautly into the habitually stretched ring of her asshole, had been hidden by her wide dick shaft. Now she was squatting and straining, her wide shitter flaring even wider, and an ostrich egg of a testicle crowned, stretched, and suddenly popped out to smash painfully into his adam's apple and make him cough. It was quickly followed by the second which bounced with incredible mass against his chin. This time a considerably larger stream of her jizz sprayed out and plopped onto his robe with a noticeable weight.

"Ahh," she sighed, then reached down and collected her sack, scrubbing a soggy swathe over his face, coating him ear to ear in her slimy cum as she let them, too, droop over the top of his head. There was enough slack they rolled a bit to rest against his temples, so hot and dense they felt like two huge baked potatoes in a leather bag.

Her asshole was blasted open almost as wide as his mouth, and she lowered it to meet him there, covering the top half of his face in sweating, greasy scrotum and the bottom half with her asshole. She settled much of her weight on him, yawning his jaw even wider, and her glutes rode on his cheeks like a couple of hams. Hams he was sure could collapse the bones of his skull in on themselves on a whim.

"Hold on to your chair or your useless cock, I don't care. But you better hope you know how to hold your breath."

Crushed beneath her, his jaw creaking under the pressure, he snorkled air into the restricted crannies as well as he could. Just before he expelled it in an impotent scream, he felt her asshole dilate even further, and then he was being filled.

He'd thought Juanita's cum was viscous. It felt like Vanessa was shitting entire jellyfish into his mouth. Salty, minty, coagulated cumwads of random size punched against his tongue and he had no time or ability to chew before swallowing them whole like the world's most disgusting jello shot.

"Eat it all!" she yelled, venting her revulsion and anger. "All of it, you stupid bitch!"

He only kept up with the first couple waves of hot ejecta before becoming completely overwhelmed. They slopped over his chin, his nose, squeezed between their respective cheeks. He felt it pooling into his ears and draping over his throat like a necklace of poorly mixed pancake batter. He accidentally snorted some, his throat closed, it piled into his mouth and managed to squeeze out and pool over his eyes, running up his forehead and into his hairline.

It was as he gurgled and cough-screamed helplessly, unknowingly gripping his own dick and balls as hard as Vanessa had and not even noticing it in his panic, that a composed Juanita investigated the cacophony in her kitchen.

The little girl stood at the other end of the table, her head cocked to see what was going on, and an odd war of thoughts vied for supremacy in her mind.

There was a stranger in her house. A large stranger. She found it hard to be worried about that when said stranger was so thoroughly showing her faggoty sperm donor how much he was worth. But it was a stranger doing it rather than her, and that irked her in a way she didn't recognize. For some reason, she wasn't frightened of the fact somebody she didn't know appeared to be suffocating her father with her enormous ass, nor indeed that her other muscles were equally enormous and obviously potent.

It was with that annoyed confusion that Juanita spoke between pauses in the stranger's angry invective aimed at her father.

"His name is Maricón. Not Bitch."

Vanessa's head cocked as she heard the little girl's voice, and she slowly eased forward, her powerful thighs lifting her high over the gasping, wheezing, cum-slopped face of Jorge Ramirez. She looked down past her dangling genitals to see his head swimming in a yellowish sea of gummy jizz and nodded in satisfaction. The underside of her balls and up into her asscrack and down the insides of her thighs were now feeling the draft, also lubricated with her cum as they were, but it was a decent job of setting the tone. She turned to face her true adversary.

Oh, she thought with surprise. Oh, my sweet girl. Vanessa was quite sure she was the most tragically beautiful thing she'd ever seen.

She would eventually make a gorgeous woman with that hair and those elegantly arched eyebrows—and a formidable one, judging by the steely look she managed. Vanessa knew how intimidating her frame was, and yet little Nita faced her with a bravery that was utterly impressive. The virus supplied dominating energy, territoriality, but that was far more often expressed through an animal craftiness such as might be seen by a lone wolf in a foreign pack's territory. There was no cringing guardedness or preemptive displays of hostility, only cool contemplation of a new thing to consider.

The girl was wearing a simple camisole over her flat torso and nothing else, her enormous cock and balls looking all the larger when compared to the little girl's small stature. She was already most of the way to a foot long, which worried Vanessa and made her wonder if the virus had mutated to work faster in recent years or if Nita was just particularly susceptible to its influence. The penis was a particularly ugly thing, as ugly as the girl was pretty, with it's wide head covered in a long, drooping foreskin and the middle inches of her long shaft quite visibly wider than the rest of it, all matched with a veiny, furious looking ballsack straining against testicles the size of lemons.

It was a miracle she got to the girl before she'd branched out of her own home.

"Maricón, is it?"

Juanita nodded. "Not bitch. A bitch is a dog, and doggies are fun." She glared at her father, still struggling beneath the large woman. "He's just a faggot piece of shit."

"And you must be Juanita Ramirez." She kept her voice neutral, not overly soft or kind as she might speak to a normal child. Juanita was hardly her first case of runaway SOH.

She nodded again. "Everyone calls me Nita." She frowned at that, as if questioning it as she said it. "Who are you?"

I'm you, you poor creature. I'm you without me. "My name is Vanessa Vandeberg." She left it at that.

The two of them stared at each other for a few moments, Vanessa to give her time to assess the problem before her, Nita to figure out her next move. After a moment, the girl pointed at the mess between the doctor's feet. "Why did you do that?"

Vanessa looked down, then, sick of the draft on her wet flesh, bent to move Jorge's hands off of his genitals. There was a small stain on his panties she couldn't tell if it was piss or cum. Quickly and carelessly manhandling him, she eventually rolled him off the chair as she pulled the robe out from under him and he lay limply moaning on the floor, his face still partially resting in the cooling pool of cum. She used the back of the robe to calmly wipe as much of her own mess off herself as she could, then dropped it dismissively on top of Jorge.

"I did that because he deserved it. I think you know that, even if you might not be able to say why."

Nita shrugged, then nodded in acquiescence. The girl still couldn't figure out why there seemed to be two warring parts within her. Something about the woman put her back up, a bit she actually seemed to feel in her brain was warning her that this woman was a threat. But there was another side of her that was agonizingly curious about the woman, wanted to explore Vanessa as if she were an adventuring billionaire sister she'd never known she had.

When Juanita's penis had first started growing, the doctor had explained what was happening to her. She'd explained that this happened to a few children, but was easily solved and her life would be back to normal soon as a little girl with all her little girl parts back where they should be. As far as Juanita knew, the huge lady in front of her shouldn't be possible. The grown up woman with a long smooth cock, whose length rested just above her knee, and incredibly large balls that drooped almost as low.

Was she going to become like this woman some day? And then a precocious thought percolated through her child's brain: might this woman not be something to aspire toward?

Vanessa let the little girl study her as she stepped back into the ring of her skirt, her feet again clad in her flats as she pulled her skirt up. Finally she faced her again. "You've been having sex with your mother, Nita?"

The little girl's countenance quickly darkened. "That's my Cunt. I fuck my Cunt when I want."

Hmm. Still in the second stage of possession, then. Thank goodness I only have one real target. Vanessa made a neutral noise in her throat. "Mm. And you have sex with her vagina?"

Nita's glower intensified. "I fuck her however I want. She's my Cunt."

If Vanessa had only waited a few more seconds, her question could have been answered without putting Juanita further on the defensive. Guadalupe staggered down the stairs, her hair once in a neat bun atop her head now a disheveled mess from being used as reins for her daughter's blowjob. There was a bib of drying drool and cum on her chest, and large tracks of jizz down her legs, more of both hers and her daughter's still freshly leaking as she made her way into the kitchen.

"Oh, hello," Lupe tried, her eyes drooping asymmetrically as she stood beside and behind her daughter. She leaned against the wall, her forearm above her head as if attempting some inebriated seduction, her brain too scrambled by brutal kiddie cock to remember what types of adult interactions were appropriate where.

Vanessa looked at Lupe but watched Nita in her peripheral vision.

The little girl was glaring at her, then at her mom. She walked behind her and full-arm slapped Lupe's fleshy rump. "I need water, Cunt."

"Oh!" Lupe stumbled past Vanessa and into the kitchen to grab a glass, a child-sized hand print welting her left flank.

I'll have to hurry, with her, Vanessa thought, considering the tottering mother. She's completely gone, and who knows how close she is to ovulating. That's just a whole new batch of problems waiting to happen.

The doctor turned back to the angry girl. "I'm glad I met you today, Nita. I'll be going now." She didn't bother addressing the two supposed adults in the house. They'd clearly ceded their authority and wits to the girl already.

She brushed past Juanita and only stopped at the door when the grade-schooler asked, "why were you here? Who are you?"

She studied her suspicious, unwitting patient for a few moments, the closest thing she could get to a proper examination at this early stage of her method. So much potential as a strong woman wasted. Well, I'll do my best to give her the best life she can have, now. Out loud, she simply said, "I'll be seeing you soon."

The door closed and Lupe piped up, having been studying her husband's destroyed visage. "Is he dead?"

Nita wasn't listening. She was busily examining that odd war between wariness and interest galloping within her.

A Doubly Disappointed Case of SOH

Jordan_Barber (orphan_account)

Summary:

Alex and Kajsa are on a collision course for romance. Unless the girl Kajsa used to babysit has a say.

Notes:

Hello, reader! This is my first spinoff story. Funny it happened with what was supposed to be a one-and-done idea. This story is self contained and has only the barest tie-in, and that'll also be true of any more stories that end up in this series. I hope you enjoy!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Alex Johns, through his early formative years, had always had a thick layer of parental neglect and disinterest to keep what may have been an expansive ego in check.

He'd enjoyed minor success in his high school choir, earning the position of tenor section leader, but he'd never had the confidence or drive for a solo and so his accurate voice stayed blended into the choir where he preferred it, letting the flashier personalities take the opportunities of attention. He was very happily a wallflower.

He knew he wasn't ugly and even had days he felt attractive, but never realized his own frustratingly uncontrollable hormones were raging just as wildly in the young women around him and so never attempted to capitalize on any of many opportunities there, either.

It had taken badgering from his choir teacher to try out at all for the senior year's musical production of Les Miserables. He'd never been interested in being on stage. It was bad enough standing on the risers with everyone else in their choir robes. And when he was fingered for trying out for one of the leads? It was one of the most mortifying moments of his life, dwarfed in dread only by his winning the role of Javert.

He once mentioned aloud he thought his baby face was unsuited to the role, but he was rebuffed by both the play's director as well as his choir's that his strong lower register was perfect for it. He just disliked using it as he felt it didn't fit his appearance in an unsettling way—finding out Michael Jackson had similar discomfort with his baritone capabilities was one of the main reasons he was a fan. But at least the villain never danced in Les Mis.

Then something curious happened. He became very popular. He was a lead in the play. And theatre kids were ever a welcoming bunch.

Overnight, he had interest from a crowd that was simply happy to have a new and unknown actor to get to know. His friend pool expanded rapidly. And he could feel girls eyeing him so hard even he couldn't deny their interest. The cartoonishly over-dramatic director gushed about her newfound steal for the theatre department, the pretty boy with a voice like liquid fire.

Quite suddenly, Alex had social power. Even the stuck up chorus sopranos on loan to the production from Mrs. Maker's choir gave him the time of day now. People didn't just see him when he walked into the choir or theatre rooms, they regarded him. The feverish glee and passion that went into the production was intoxicating, the long and difficult rehearsals challenged him in a new and most engaging way, learning blocking and lines, stage fighting and how to make a fall look believable, watching the set pieces come together and the lighting cues be tested… it was novel in all the best ways.

On the stage, he found himself thoroughly enjoying stalking through the crowds of teenagers turned down-on-their-luck French folk as the intimidating policeman. And even though his solos never stopped terrifying him to perform, there was one thing that always gave him the adrenaline rush he needed to nail his brooding and temperamental lines.

Her name was Kajsa Lind. Besides her name, her most Swedish characteristic was her electric blue eyes, all the more dazzling for their Persian tilt and their contrast with her thick, waving locks of raven hair. She had the hybrid vigour afforded to some lucky people of mixed genetics, the best bits of each ethnicity complementing and enhancing to become more than the sum of their parts. A nose and eyebrows that may have been too large were softened by the more delicate Scandinavian influence; tender, fairer skin of her Northern ancestry bolstered by the rich olive tone of the Gulf. A full mouth with a wicked curve and the faintest freckles beneath her eyes.

She was in the chorus but not in choir, her art background coming through a childhood dedicated to dance. And the dedication showed in her body. She was lithe and limber with beautifully toned legs and butt, showcased in her habitually worn leggings.

As Javert, Alex was to scare away a throng of peasants right before his first solo of the show. He found himself focusing on her in that moment, partly because her fear was acted best, but mostly because she was the most striking thing to look at. Backstage, their mutual chemistry led to thrilling and flirtatious interactions, and before long it was obvious to everybody the inevitability of their relationship.

The inevitability was noticed by two other figures. The first was the mascot of Les Miserables, a child version of Cosette and the girl who grows up to distract the would-be revolutionary Marius. One of the children they rotated through the role of Young Cosette was a third-grade girl Kajsa had babysat since infancy. Mona Rogan, and her mother Leanne were staples backstage, the gregarious mother happily volunteering her time helping how she could and her apple-cheeked, Shirley Temple-cute daughter quickly becoming a favorite among the teens. Leanne wasn't any more blind than the rest and could see Kajsa and Alex circling one another like binary stars, a twinkle in her eye as she got to know him and a nostalgic appreciation for the youthful infatuation of the babysitter and neighbor she'd known for the better part of a decade. She watched the blossoming relationship with a smile.

Mona, with all the tact of her eight years of life, was much less patient with the play behind the play.

Alex was in the black box, time on his hands as the student revolutionaries were on stage rehearsing one of their numbers. He'd caught the eye of Kajsa as she spoke with Leanne and couldn't resist the opportunity. Mona looked up from her play with the other Young Cosettes and Gavroches and made a beeline for him.

"Hey," she hustled in front, planting herself squarely in his path. Her long brown ringlets bounced adorably and her big chocolate eyes held a conspiratorial glimmer.

"What's up, Mona?" he asked.

She gave him her best look of smug worldliness. "My sister has a big crush on you, you know."

His face heated and he looked up at Kajsa to see her cheeks rosy and eyes wide as well, except she was focusing on Mona.

"Uh, thanks..."

The little curly-haired brunette smirked and turned, her skirt flaring out over her leggings, and then she saw the look leveled at her by her "sister". "What?" she asked, all innocence.

"Let me talk to you for a moment in private, Mona," Kajsa said through gritted teeth.

Leanne chuckled as she stepped over to Alex, both of them watching as Kajsa led Mona away by the arm.

"I guess the cat's out of the bag, eh?" she said.

"Yeah." He knew he had an idiotic smile on his face but he couldn't help it.

"Why don't you and Kajsa come over for dinner some time? When she lived behind us we ate together pretty often. Mona and I miss the company." Her husband had died when Mona was very young and, as Kajsa had once explained to him, the two of them lived off a staggeringly large settlement. What they were doing still living in the sleepy little suburb they'd always been in he could only guess.

"Yeah," he said, turning to her, "I'd like that."

Leanne was a curvy lady, and she used her wide hip to bump his with a smile. "Good, I've recently found we're in desperate need of some proper male energy in the house, too. I have a job for you."

She sauntered away without further explanation. A suddenly blooming sensory organ began picking up monstrously strong MILF energy.

She was pretty, and though he'd certainly noticed her fertile feminine shape, he hadn't truly looked at her in a sexual way before. She had been a young mother, still was really, and it occurred to him for the first time she was not only barely a decade or so older than him, she also had quite the body. That little hip check had prepared the dry plains of his teenage libido, and her comments had set a raging fire to the whole damn thing.

That night, and many nights after, his masturbation fantasies of Kajsa included Leanne as well.

Over the next couple weeks, as the show drew closer to opening, Alex and Kajsa grew attached at the hip. At first, Mona was excited by this. Then she developed an odd sort of jealousy. She seemed to think she could claim both Alex and Kajsa as her own territory, but separate from each other. Kajsa was alternately treated as a sister and as womanly competition, which was rather amusing from a girl who wouldn't have her first period for several years. Alex was somehow claimed as both an adopted brother and a baby love interest as well. Leanne and Kajsa both enjoyed ribbing him about the latter.

The Monday of the week they opened, Leanne mentioned she was making a family recipe and that Kajsa was already coming. Alex nearly caused his phone to immolate he texted his mom so fast.

Eating dinner with friends tonight, be home later

11:00 curfew, Alex

Leanne answered the door almost as soon as he knocked, the garlic-y scent of lasagna appearing right beside her.

"Hey there, Alex. Gosh, you look eager," she said with a laugh. "Well, c'mon in. You can put your shoes right there."

He blushed. "Thanks, Ms. Rogan."

"How many times have I told you to ditch the honorifics, Alex? It's Leanne."

"Sorry," he said, stepping in and toeing off his shoes beside the door in the entryway, "ingrained manners I guess."

He didn't see her frown as he walked past her into her house.

Kajsa was in the next room, sitting on a couch, and they both waved and said a hello made awkward by their mutual nerves. Leanne put her hands on Alex's shoulders and steered him into the room, giggling as he looked nervously back at her.

"Have a seat, Alex. I'll go get Mona out of her room." She turned and waggled her eyebrows on her way out, "can't be leaving a couple of teens without a chaperone." she sing-songed the last word through the next room. Alex just stared slack-jawed after her.

"Oh. My god. She is so embarrassing."

He turned to Kajsa who was beet red and staring into the middle distance.

Mortifying as it had been, it served as an ice-breaker for their novel setting. Besides the fact they were eating at an adult's house, it felt like a date. They both skirted around that idea, however, and focused on safe subjects like opening night.

They paused several times over the next couple minutes as they could hear raised voices elsewhere in the house, but not so loud as to be alarming. Eventually, Mona was frog-marched into the room with them by an exasperated Leanne, the girl's skirt kicking with her attitude.

Leanne shared a frown around the room. "Hmph. Managed to keep your hands to yourselves. How… mannered." Alex's eyebrows almost lost themselves in his hairline. She had sounded annoyed! Now she was turning back to her daughter. "You stay in here and out of my hair. I am at my wit's end with you, little girl." Leanne stalked out to the kitchen.

Mona pouted and called after her, "you know I can't help it, Mom!"

This was suddenly very safe ground for Kajsa. "What happened, Mona? What'd you do?"

Mona mumbled, "made a mess," and turned her moue on Kajsa but her face brightened when she zeroed in on Alex. "Hello Alexander," she sang, still enjoying the novelty of learning his real name recently. "I'm glad you came to see me and Mama and Kajsa."

She flounced across the room, standing right in front of him with her hands behind her back and twisting a toe as cutely as she could. He just laughed and scrubbed his palm on her scalp a bit. "Hi, Mona."

She ducked under his hand with a frown. "I'm not a little kid, you know."

Kajsa snickered into the back of her hand and Alex just gave her a dubious look. "Oh, I think you are. You're only eight."

"The doctor? Her name is Doctor Teeuw. She said I'm, um, that I'm advanced cause I already descended. More advanced than I should be. She says Mama will have to do something soon 'cause she says my… my put out is a lot."

Her adorable little face was so serious, he couldn't help but laugh again, even without knowing what the hell her typical insufficiently contextualized chatter was about. "Well, maybe your doctor is on to something. But as far as I know, eight is still 'little girl' territory."

Mona gave him a puff-cheeked glower, then stomped across the room and flopped into a chair with her arms crossed, proceeding to stare at the two of them. Kajsa leaned over and stage-whispered that she thought he'd upset her.

"Well he did," announced Mona.

And that was that. He and Kajsa shared another chuckle, then continued to talk about school while Mona impressively kept up her glower until Leanne called them all to the dining room to eat.

They ignored the girl's churlish pasta stabbing until she finally gave up her bad mood and joined in their conversation. Leanne made no more embarrassing comments, thankfully, but she did watch avidly as her daughter almost desperately injected herself into any exchanges between Kajsa and Alex.

Unbidden, Leanne thought about what her daughter had been doing in her room while looking at pictures of him she'd taken on her tablet at rehearsal, and a brief fantasy played through her head that she quickly squashed, glad everyone else was too busy to notice her deep blush.

It's a good sign though, right? she thought to herself, You're not too far gone yet...

She chased Alex out of the kitchen when he tried to clean up after dinner and the three youths went back to the living room to find a movie to watch. What sort of boy wouldn't try to get into some trouble under a blanket while watching a movie with his love interest? Hopefully she could still coax some proper assertiveness out of the lad.

As Alex followed Kajsa into the living room, doing his best—which was altogether not very good—not to ogle her butt in her tight pants, he slipped his hand into his pocket to surreptitiously rotate his boner up under his belt.

Kajsa herself was dealing with nipples that were uncomfortably sensitive and inexplicably hard, as well the running worry she might soon become so wet that she might leak into her panties. It was a source of deep bodily shame for her that during times of particularly high libido, her virgin pussy would create a thick, milky lubricant she could only make ramp down after a bout of furious masturbation satisfied her enough.

Neither teen knew why they were so randy, but had the smell of garlic not been so ubiquitous they may have had a clue.

They decided on a movie (both high schoolers not caring much what they watched as it was an excuse to spend more time together), the three of them sat on the couch to wait for Leanne to join them. Alex snuck a hand out and poked Kajsa in the side, eliciting a squeal and a fetching mock-glare, and just like that the game was on. A full-fledged tickle fight broke out, something Alex easily won as he wasn't very ticklish, and though Mona fought to join in as well, she was most ticklish of all and it was an easy task to send her defenselessly to the floor with peals of laughter so he could turn to fend off Kajsa's improved attack using the throw pillows.

Shortly thereafter, Alex looked up from the humor-filled carnage he'd wrought, his foot lightly pinning Mona's back to the ground while Kajsa lay beside her with her arms up to block the pillow he had lifted over his head. Leaning in against the wall was Leanne, considering him with a smile that was not exactly friendly; too sharp, really.

He stepped back, confused by the edge on her grin, and tossed the pillow back onto the couch.

"Sorry, got a little carried away," he breathed, trying to sound sheepish.

Leanne's smile faded a bit, seeming owed to an odd disappointment. "Oh, don't apologize. You were really taking charge there."

Mona wriggled upright and grumped up at him. "I'm gonna get you back for cheating." As he looked into her face though, there wasn't any amusement there. It was like a switch had flipped in her, and she looked actually angry.

He tried to lighten the mood with a chuckle as he lent a hand to Kajsa to help her up. "All's fair in love and war, kiddo."

Mona pushed his hand away before Kajsa could grab it. "I told you I'm not a kid! Would a kid do this?"

Alex and Kajsa were both shocked as the little girl stepped over her former babysitter and, of all things, dropped down onto her face. Kajsa yelped, muffled by Mona's crotch, and her hands went to pull her off, but Mona's fingers wove into her hair to hold fast. Alex watched wide-eyed for far too long, his brain stuck in trying to parse the crazy scene before him. Finally he stepped forward to pull the mysteriously aggressive child off her victim.

"What the hell, Mona, get off of her!" He struggled to get her fingers out of Kajsa's hair as the grade schooler kept Kajsa's face covered with her skirt, riding forward and back as he tried to dislodge her. She suddenly gave up and let Alex lift her off and away, sauntering toward her mother as if nothing was wrong.

Alex spared her only a glance as he went back to his friend to make sure she was okay.

"Ooh," she moaned, her nostrils flaring for fresh air. Her eyes were rolled back a bit and Alex cupped her face to look more closely at them.

"Hey, you alright?" He could hear Leanne half-heartedly chastising her daughter.

"Mona Calliope Rogan, you have been playing far too rough lately. You owe your sister an apology."

Alex looked at her incredulously. "Playing? She was practically—" humping her face is what he was about to say but couldn't bring himself to in front of the young girl. "I mean, what the hell was that all about?"

Mona muttered an apology, then marched across the room like a queen. "You're wrong, Mama. He can't help, it's all a performance."

"Go get ready for bed, Mona." She turned her attention fully to Alex who was now helping Kajsa up. "Why don't you two head home. Sorry tonight's expectations were so... inappropriately unmet."

Alex couldn't believe what sounded like a dismissal more than an apology. He put his shoes on, thoroughly weirded out by the night, and said goodbye as he led Kajsa out the door. She was still in the clouds for some reason, even though she hadn't been smothered for even half a minute. Maybe she was just dazed by the whiplash of the last few minutes.

"You gonna be okay to drive home?" he asked as he walked her to her car, his mind still reeling.

She nodded, staring at the house. "Yeah," she said, vaguely.

"You sure?"

She finally met his eyes fully, the electric blue clear and sharp as ever. "I'm fine, Alex. I just need to go home. I can't really think about things right now."

"Alright, well send me a text so I know you got home safe."

She popped her door open and ducked inside. "See you tomorrow," she said as she closed herself in and the car quickly revved to life.

He scratched his head as he watched her pull away, not so fast she worried him, but he guessed she was pretty shaken up.

He gave her twenty minutes after he got home but she never texted, so he called her. She answered with a put-upon sigh and reiterated that she felt fine. He got a quick goodnight from her, and then he lay in bed running back over the last hour.

Neither Leanne nor Kajsa was in his dreams that night. They were mostly unmemorable, but the one detail he did carry through to waking was the scowl Mona had left with. It had seemed so, what? Dismissive?

Dissatisfied, he thought. She had seemed to judge him and been dissatisfied.

The next day at school he didn't see Kajsa, but that was normal as their schedules had never intersected much. After school, he got no time at all with her as their director immediately got down to business with rehearsals. Between scenes, Kajsa seemed harder and harder to find for some reason.

That's how it went for the rest of the week, as well, him seeming to never have more than a couple moments with her. She seemed to spend a lot of time in conversation with Leanne, and those conversations never looked much like an invitation to him. Mona seemed to be quite annoyed with him and she got very bossy, ordering him around where previously she'd asked with a faux-innocent sweetness. The few times he'd refused her, Kajsa happened to be nearby and leveled a withering look at him before completing whatever small task Mona had demanded of him, making him feel petty.

Thursday night was the dress rehearsal. It was enough chaos and fun that he forgot about any of his issues and focused on performing the whole show for their audience of one.

At the end of the first act, Leanne pulled him aside to invite him to another dinner that night. She was hardly as bubbly as she had been previously, but was making the case it would be an apology for the interaction the night before.

At his hesitation, she gave him a little smirk. "Kajsa will be there as well, by the way."

Transparent as the tactic was, it was all he needed. He still hadn't been able to have a conversation of any length since Monday. Leanne nodded and headed back over to where Mona, who's role was now finished for the night, was playing a board game with one of the Gavroches (grinning maniacally as she was clearly crushing him).

Despite his focus being pulled toward the impending dinner, or perhaps because of it, the rest of the dress rehearsal went without a hitch. He suffered through the director's final notes to the cast and then rabbited back to the changing room to remove his stage makeup with Olympic efficiency.

Kajsa's car wasn't in the parking lot, so he assumed she had the same idea as him to go home to quickly shower and change. His stomach had butterflies as he rushed himself through the chores.

He wore a button down with rolled up sleeves (he'd overheard some girls at school talking about guys rolling up their sleeves being hot) and camel-colored slacks that were just on the verge of getting too tight for him because Kajsa had once commented she thought he looked nice in them. He snagged some dressier shoes as well, then he was off.

When he pulled up to Leanne's house, Kajsa's car was already in the driveway, and, do what he could, the butterflies wouldn't be tamed.

He knocked at the door and did his level best to not fidget. He didn't have to wait long for Leanne to open the door, cracking it enough for her face to appear in the gap.

"Well, look at you, Alex. You do clean up awful nice. Mmm," she stepped behind the door as she pulled it open for him, "c'mon in."

He mumbled a bashful thank you as he stepped inside. It wasn't garlic that greeted his nose this time, but something he couldn't put his finger on. It was a dense smell, and captivating, more for its mystery than because it was pleasant.

He untied his shoes as he thought about it, inhaling deeply to try and place it. The door closed and he turned to see Leanne dressed in a long skirt and very interesting blouse that may as well have been body paint for how faithfully it traced the impressive shelf of her breasts. She was in a wide stance, her arms crossed as a stage upon which her bosom could be displayed.

He turned back to his shoes with a blush, then was startled into a yelp when her hand collided with his butt and sent him forward to catch himself on the floor.

"Naughty boy."

"I-I-I'm sorry Ms. Rogan. I didn't, uh—"

She tsked. "I'd really hoped you could have helped us. And all you had to do was take what you wanted. You act too wimpy, Alex." She headed for the hallway. "Well, you'll be getting a lesson. Hurry up, now."

His brain was spinning with confusion and embarrassment, and he felt a strange weakness leeching into his limbs. And his mind.

He followed her into the hall.

"I saw how Kajsa looked at you during your scenes, Alex. I saw you playing that tough, uncompromising policeman and I hoped that was in you, too. That you could, hmm, bring some order to people around you."

She turned to face him and he pulled up short, almost colliding with her. She was tall for a woman, taller than him and seeming all the taller for her potent glower. One finger traced up his arm, his shoulder, his neck, and pointed up under his jaw to make him raise his chin. He shivered, perplexed at his strange paralysis and the waves of heat rolling through him.

"I wish I hadn't wasted so much time on misjudging you. But you were such a convenient possibility." She arched a brow and sneered. "A shame you wouldn't take so many opportunities granted to you." Her gaze shifted down his body, then back to his eyes. "I can see one part of you isn't so meek. Too bad you've spoiled your chances."

About the only thing he came close to fully understanding about her behavior the past week was that she had just referenced his aching and painfully erect penis. Even if he hadn't, she soon made it clear when she spun and reached back like a relay racer accepting a baton and grabbed his dick. He managed a weak yelp, then tried to keep up with her steady march down the hall, leading him to a door covered in pieces of paper with crayon illustrations, which she opened and then stepped aside, releasing his cock and bidding him enter.

Mona's room was an explosion of stereotypical pink, but that was as far as his perception of details got before he saw her, and then Mona was all he could see.

Well. Mona and Kajsa.

Mona was naked, her flat chest and the double xylophone of her ribs leading to the healthy roundness of a kiddy tummy. Her skinny legs were spread wide as she reclined on a pink beanbag chair at the edge of a rug, her arms draped on the slopes. She looked approving but bored as she gazed down at Kajsa between her legs.

Kajsa's face was in the little girl's crotch, and she was mindlessly moaning, slurping, and snorting in turns. She was on all fours, her face lower than her lovely round rump which was slowly wagging back and forth in the air while a conspicuous wet patch was growing on her undercarriage.

Alex managed to choke out the beginning of a weak, non-specific question before Leanne stepped around him and grabbed his cock again, leading him to the rug and motioning down right behind Kajsa as if telling a dog to sit. His knees hit the rug, his arms swung limp at his side, and he met Mona's eye.

She still looked bored, but now she frowned at him, the beautiful teenager snorkeling in her lap ignored as one might the hum of a refrigerator.

He felt a swish of fabric against his arm, but even without it he would have been able to tell Leanne was standing beside him from the heat radiating from her. The heat and… something else. It was the aroma he'd detected when first entering the house.

"You look stupid," pronounced the little princess on her beanbag throne.

Alex's gaze was wrenched upward as Leanne gripped his hair, bending at the waist to leer at him. "You see what's happened to my sweet girl? She never would have been so rude if not for that damn disease. The doctor said it would be soon if I couldn't find someone to reverse the effects."

"Wha… what are you talking about?" Alex asked with a wince as Leanne tightened her grip.

Mona leaned forward slightly and shoved Kajsa's face away with a dainty hand. There was nothing dainty about what she revealed.

A short, shockingly stout dick stood in her sodden lap, her entire pelvis and genitals coated in the sheen of saliva. Her completely smooth balls were like a couple of goose eggs in a taut pouch, larger than Alex thought was possible for testicles to grow, making her stumpy cock seem all the more over-sized for her body. But it was the cock his eyes kept being drawn back to. It had almost as much diameter as length, like a fat soup can, and a broad mushroom head with a deep divot in the top filled with a shimmering, pearlescent, marble-sized dollop of precum sitting in it. Her bulging urethra was as big around as a highlighter, and there were menacing, pulsing veins criss-crossing the thin skin.

And it suddenly occurred to him that he was much closer to it, breathing deep, no hand in his hair holding him in place since who knows when.

Mona was glaring down at him. He was pretty like any teen heart throb pushed by the music industry, but he acted like… well she didn't know the word. But she was beyond disappointed that she had ever had daydreams about him. "I thought you could be my boyfriend, but you're such a…" She faltered and looked to her mom.

"A bitch, baby, you can say it if it's the truth."

"Yeah. You're a little bitch! You can't be my boyfriend." She pushed his panting face away from her genitals with her foot.

Leanne had seen enough. "My little Mona was the perfect girl before she grew that thing," she sneered at Alex's confused whine when she pushed him down to the floor and began undressing him like a farmer shears sheep.

"I just needed somebody to control her, to be stronger than her," dress shoes flew over her shoulder, followed shortly by socks, "and she could have been back to her old self." She grabbed his testicles when he tried to stop her from undoing his belt, then cowed him with a stare.

"Lady, what the fuck is wrong with you?" He ducked behind his arms when she raised her own with an admonishment about cursing.

"But you couldn't be man enough even to capitalize on the opportunities I gave you!" In one smooth motion she tugged both his legs out of his pants and threw them over her shoulder as well. She had been kneeling on her skirt, and took his moment of embarrassed defense to rise over him. "Stand up. You have some explaining to do. Does your cock not work right or something?"

Alex seized the opportunity to stand as well, looking between the three faces. Mona and Leanne glaring at him as he covered his crotch, Kajsa with a dull curiosity, her face back in Mona's lap but rolled with her cheek on the girl's thigh so she could see what was going on. Alex shuddered to see Kajsa's mouth was slack. Worse was knowing Leanne was standing in his way of the door.

"I don't know what anything you said means, Leanne," he said slowly, trying to think through his plight as well as stall anything from getting worse. "I don't know what you want!"

"I wanted you to behave like a proper man! There were two willing fields happy to be plowed and you did nothing! All it would have taken was getting on that path, and then you could have helped my poor daughter."

"How?! What the hell are you talking about?"

She advanced on him, and he backed up, wide-eyed, until he tripped backward, sitting on the bed. He gulped audibly as she stood over him.

"Take off the rest of it. Now."

He was down to two buttons before he could think. Why was it so hard to think? But too late, Leanne was fed up with his speed and took matters into her own hands once more, quickly and roughly stripping his shirts and then finally his underwear.

"That," she said, pointing aggressively at his groin which he was covering with his hands, "was all you needed to listen to. You take over this house, you fuck our beautiful Kajsa, you take me, and then you dominate my daughter. That's all you needed to do. I could have led you there." Even Leanne knew the plan sounded off kilter now she was articulating it, but it no longer mattered anyway.

Alex's eyes were wide and his mouth gaped open, horrified. "You wanted me to what? Are you actually insane?!"

"If I'm insane it's only because of the fucking virus! Do you know what Sudden Onset Hermaphroditism does to a brain? The cure was as easy as putting my sweet Mona firmly in her place, putting me in my place beneath you. You could have had it all."

The twist to his mouth didn't leave, and in fact his gorge rose. "Why… why would you need somebody… why would you need me to do that? Why couldn't you, ugh, put your daughter in her place?"

Leanne's eyes went wide, a manic grin that held exactly no warmth spreading across her face as she reached for the skirt's catch on her hip. "Because I'm infected as well!" Her lack of blinking made him shy from her gaze, but there was now something new to look at that made his mind go blank.

When Alex had been young, he'd had a friend who owned a large pet rat. It had been a surprisingly wholesome animal, but he'd always been bothered by the size of its scrotum being dragged around behind it, almost the size of the final digit of a little finger, relatively huge for an animal whose body was barely longer than his hand. That relative gigantism was what faced him now.

Laying against Leanne's thighs was a skin sack stuffed with a couple of regulation size rugby balls. It was enormous, absurdly so. All the more so because the phallus that accompanied it, no less disconcerting for its flaccidity, was very average in all dimensions. Perhaps the length of his middle finger and double the circumference. The taut skin of her sac was shining with perspiration for the effort of tremendous sperm production and wafting heat off along with her musky scent to boot.

It loomed closer in his vision as she stepped toward him, but he found himself frozen in place. Then she reached out to clutch his hair again.

"I couldn't be the one to treat my daughter because that would have made my SOH worse. Instead I foolishly waited for you to man up and cure us both!" She punctuated her statement by slamming his cheek into her hip, angling his face down to stare at the sentence she had judged him deserving of. "Now. Do you know what's next?"

He struggled to look up at her, and she allowed him to turn just enough that she could see his wide-eyed fear. Then with a cruelty that made her blood sing, she dragged his face down and smeared him all over her cock and balls.

"Mmmffflllblllgghh!"

Mona felt the last iota of fondness for Alex shrivel as she watched him let his own face be used as a mop for her mom's hardening dick and huge sweaty balls. He wasn't even pushing her away, just resting his hands on her thighs for support! With disgust she turned her attention back to her former babysitter, getting Kajsa's attention by angling her hip to plop the newest pearl of precum onto the teenager's plump mouth, prompting her to quickly suck it into her mouth.

It had been so easy to change Kajsa that Mona's childhood self-centeredness made her conclude that it was simply how it should be. Of course she was slurping all over an eight-year old's fat schlong. Clearly she was meant to.

Meanwhile, Leanne was finding it fascinatingly easy to say goodbye to the memories of previous thought processes. The more she scrubbed the stupid boy's face all over, soaking her sweat and stink into his hair and nose and mouth, the more she too realized this was the proper order of things. Her balls were begging to fulfill their potential to rule over a mighty harem.

And as soon as that thought crossed her mind, an image of the cast and crew of the high school play—every clueless little starlet thinking she could be a diva, every chorus girl with their healthy dancer's muscles ready for demanding choreography—all of them lining the stage kneeling and ready to be used up and filled with Leanne's endless supply. The wide-eyed freshman girls dropping their whispered fangirling of the male leads and the confident juniors and seniors with university in their future all forgetting everything but prostrating themselves in preparation for being bred… and then their mothers after them. The fantasy built in Leanne's head, and she lost herself in it, on autopilot while she imagined new depths of depravity.

Concurrently, Alex had no clue the reason he was suffocating in nut musk was because his well-being had been completely forgotten about. He could only suck in air when the opportunity presented itself. He was, unknown to him, experiencing the exact same rewiring of his brain as Kajsa had over the last several days. He could barely even consider the idea of resistance to being so manhandled. His consciousness was a dull and distant voice, as if he were hearing it from underwater. He was living in the moment, not considering how his face was no longer smearing a soft penis but the cumvein and root of an erect cock; not considering but only experiencing the hardening and densifying of the massive, throbbing testicles his face rubbed against; not considering but only hearing the building gurgle and churn of those cum factories like the steadily faster chugging of an old steam engine.

Neither Alex nor Kajsa had any thought at all for how thoroughly remade they were about to become.

Three days of slobbery oral play was all it took for the novelty to wear off of Mona. She'd liked watching Kajsa's lips attempt the stretch over the unmatched width of her prick helmet like trying to fit a fist in her mouth, had been tickled by the teenager's efforts to fit one of her big balls in her mouth. She'd loved the feeling of orgasm, of spending ten minutes painting Kajsa's face with forty, fifty, sixty ropes of sticky cum until she wore a single sheet of jizz that stretched from hairline to chest, dripping and flowing in a way that made Kajsa look like a goo monster from some silver-age horror movie. Had loved the minutes-long feeling of repeated abrasion in her urethra as her gummy, tacky wad rocketed through her plumbing. But she knew, had always known there was more to come.

And now was the time.

At a command, Kajsa stood and turned away from Mona so she could look over her shoulder while she pulled her pants over her big butt. The little girl had been waiting to grow her own butt, and big boobs like her mommy, until only a week ago. Now she didn't care much what her own body looked like, she just wanted to rub her cock on everything that caught her eye. And what caught her eye were the nubile bodies of the teenage girls around her. And here, dipping lower so she could spread herself for Mona's perusal, was the top specimen of fertile curves.

SLAP

Kajsa moaned while Mona looked at her stinging palm. There was a perfect layer of fat over the muscle of the teenager's flank that afforded both an audibly pleasing sound as well as a healthy jiggle to go with the fascinating handprint welt rising on her flesh.

Her little brows drew down as she prepared to ignore more pain. "Wiggle it!" Mona demanded.

Kajsa did one better, placing her hands on her knees and twerking in front of the girl, her hefty cheeks making a whop whop whop as she hummed a happily degraded note.

SLAP SLAP SLAP

The ambient noise steadily increased in decibels and variety. Mona stood to get more momentum for her repeated spanking and Kajsa responded with increasingly desperate moans. As she continued throwing her ass about, her virgin pussy was cranking out milky lubricant enough that it began spattering about with the impacts and her own antics, spackling the rug and Mona's front as well as oozing down the inside of her thighs in a double grool stream.

Leanne's voice as well was constantly ringing out as she chastised Alex to more fervent feats of worship. She had dragged him to a kneeling position on the floor and was perched over him, sitting on his face so that his neck was craned painfully back and her taint put enough pressure on his nose he thought it might soon break. The sweat on the back of her sack was now what was soaking into his hair as her balls groaned and roiled near enough his ears to hear their ramping production to inhuman levels. Alex did all he could to get his tongue as far in her asshole as he could, trying to find the prostate she was demanding he pleasure. His hands were sunk into her fleshy rear, doing what little he could to relieve the pressure of her whole body weight on his head.

Kajsa's body was on fire, and especially her plump ass. The little girl wasn't any stronger than a normal eight year old, but she didn't seem to care about how much it might be hurting her own hands. All Kajsa could think about was the alien, terrible hunger in her core. It was as if her brain were in her womb instead of her head, every sensation like a filament that ran back to her womanhood; from the tingling in her scalp to the clenching of her toes in the nap of the rug; from the flexing joints of the grip on her knees to the wobbling weight of her butt clapping rhythmically; from the puckered tightness of her fat nipples to the chewed tenderness of her full lips. And escaping her lips finally was something besides a wordless exaltation.

"Oh, God, please Mona! Please give me that big fucking cock!"

She was tugged around to face the little girl who pulled her with a double handful of hair down to the yawning mouth of her enormous cockhead. There was, as always, a huge drop of precum waiting like the sticky lure of some carnivorous plant. Kajsa happily grabbed the organ, needing both hands to be able to wrap around it, and puckered her lips to suck that offering into her mouth, moaning as she felt the weight of more following, as if she were sucking up a strawful of an especially thick milkshake. When that snake of precum was entirely in her mouth, the salty sweetness rolling heavily down her throat, she stuck her tongue as far into Mona's cock as she could, cleaning the sides of her urethra.

Leanne glanced over to see Kajsa moaning into the mouth of her daughters cock and smiled. She loved seeing the two get along. But the groaning in her balls was really singing now. Despite having the fortitude to never have given in to masturbation to date, she knew what was happening. She needed release.

"Get over here you salad-tossing little queer," she said, too far gone to question such malicious invective which never before would have occurred to her to utter. "Mama has a meal for you!"

She dismounted him, then grabbed another handful of his hair and the base of her cock with the other hand. She pulled on him viciously, causing him to yelp, and took the perfect opening to shove her dick along his tongue.

"You cooperate, Alex," she said, now both hands on his head and a grin from ear to ear. "Just cooperate, drink Mama's cum like a good bitch. Maybe I won't fuck your face so hard I damage that precious voice. Got it?" But it was entirely rhetorical, as by the time she asked, she was already pumping her hips.

Alex's head was spinning and he had no wherewithal to consider the threat as he was contending with her vicious strokes. Both her hands were already tearing into his hair, making his scalp scream, but it was the bruising thrusts driving his nose into her pelvis that were most painful of all. He had two bits of good luck going, though he could hardly consider them in the moment. The first was that her length was modest enough it only reached the back of his tongue, and the second was that because of that her strokes were shallow enough the periods of their frequency were dissonant to the swinging mass of her pendulous balls and so they never got enough momentum to crash into his neck with their considerable weight.

"Glluughgglluhguhlughl!"

Leanne's initial relief at finally getting her cock into something was intruded on when she realized he was still fighting her, if weakly. His palms were planted on her thighs and he wasn't even trying to suck her cock.

"Hklaurghkghularkgh!"

"What the fuck are you doing, Alex, trying to sing for me? You sound fucking retarded."

His eyes were rolling back in his head as he struggled to breathe around her cock, what little fight he had in him losing as his hands drooped and then fell to his sides. With a determined snarl, she put one foot up on the mattress and pivoted to a more downward stroke.

Leanne had no clue what a man's orgasm feels like, had never actually considered it, but was becoming amazed at the feeling of steadily building pressure in her balls. There was something coming, and it felt nothing at all like an orgasm to her.

In fact it wasn't an orgasm. Her virally mutated biology was gearing up for an ejaculation no normal human could ever match, but first came the precum.

As if she were being electroshocked, her inner muscles began clenching faster and faster, priming the pump, and then a steady stream of cloudy, syrupy liquid ran over his tongue and quickly pooled in the back of his mouth. Leanne let out a long sigh of pleasure, even as her inner muscles mindlessly continued flexing in measured intervals.

Alex had been letting himself slip into a between state of half-consciousness, but the sudden feeling of being filled like a farmyard water trough brought him fully back to himself.

He began swallowing, able to keep up with the stream at a not uncomfortable pace, but now had to breathe between these, and that was still being interrupted by crashing thrusts of Leanne's abdomen against his face, her pubic bone colliding with his front teeth hard and often enough now they were on the verge of feeling loose.

Leanne felt a different building, now. Not just her balls being too full to contain anymore and having to siphon the excess into him. There was the more familiar, all-consuming pleasure of orgasm rising.

"I know you want it, Alex. Won't you keep singing for me? Sing for your meal, you worthless little pillow biter!"

She humped him faster and his strained rhythm broke. It instantly became a struggle just to get any air safely in or out. He wheezed in through his nose, burbled out through his mouth, or coughed enough free he could attempt a gasp in. The coughing came more often, the hacking and struggle causing most of a mouthful to blast out of his nose and spray her pubic area and thighs. She just laughed.

"Not your best solo, Alex. You need to work on your breath support!"

Mona wasn't paying attention to the drowning boy she'd so recently been infatuated with. She was clamboring up behind Kajsa after she'd tugged and pushed and slapped her into position slumped over the beanbag chair with her ass up in the air. The teenager's muscular thighs were spread wide, straddling the bag, and by now even more greased up with her messy lubricant.

Mona peered down at the shaved vulva before her, a puffy coinslot glistening and ready for her. She lined herself up, hesitating a moment to really look at her extra girthy cock that had no business being matched to such a tight virgin hole.

She shrugged and grabbed Kajsa's hips.

Kajsa's eyes went wide as she felt her former charge mash the broad cock head against her lips. Her fears and reservations were heavily tamped down by the effects of the virus, or else drowned out by her roaring libido, but she still felt a slim worry wiggle its way into her mind.

"Hngh, fuck, uuungh—God, you're gonna break me!" She was stretching, dilating with excruciating pleasure on pain as Mona put more and more of her strength into her push to get the turgid, spongy head inside Kajsa.

She didn't know why she'd done much of what she'd engaged in the last week, her mind a muddle, but she could feel the moment she felt possessed by her need for cock, because it quite suddenly shut off her fear entirely.

"More! Shove that big fucker inside me, Mona! Tear me open!"

She felt the little girl readjust her grip, then put all her strength into it, her back arched and her little pink heels digging into the bean bag. Slowly, slowly Kajsa was pried open, wedged apart like the polar pack subjected to an icebreaker's prow.

She couldn't help herself, a low note of equal parts anticipation and masochism rose in pitch with each infinitesimal iota of progress. She broke out in adrenaline sweat all over and the throbbing heat of her vaginal walls eclipsed entirely that of her still smarting backside. It wasn't a pretty note, but a sustained one, all the way until the yawning maw of Mona's insane bitch-breaker steadily battered the wet muscles into submission in order to kiss her cervix and smear a layer of sticky precum over it.

Then she went silent, and her vision went white.

Mona looked down at her accomplishment, finally hilted in her former babysitter's untouched pussy now spread so wide its lips were white with strain. She wiped the back of her hand across her forehead, then frowned down at Kajsa.

"What are you doing?" But the teenager ignored her, the weird, random hitching of large muscle groups growing more frequent. "Hey. I said what are you doing?"

The spasms were getting more severe, and her face turned to the side, her eyes blank and her mouth open with no sound coming out. It was upsetting Mona.

"What's wrong with you? Answer me!"

She reared back with a slap that landed on Kajsa's ass, and then suddenly had to grab the girl to keep from being bucked off.

A keening wail matched the vibrations of Kajsa's legs as they flew out straight and shuddered.

"Ooooooohh fuuuuuck!"

Belatedly, as a splattering expulsion of milky girlcum ejected in a high velocity cone around the minute space between the vaginal opening and her cock, Mona realized what was happening.

Leanne had been watching the whole time, pride and lust galloping through her as she watched her baby girl stuff that mammoth girth into a hole that shouldn't have accepted it. And Kajsa, who was the closest thing to a second daughter, having the biggest orgasm Leanne had ever seen because of it...

"Here it comes, Alex," she pronounced, seeing him with his fingernail's grip on recovering the rhythm that would keep him from drowning. "Here's what Mama brewed up, just for you!"

She slammed home one last time, driving her cock down into his face as deeply as it would go, the fiery rush of ecstasy flushing outward through her body from the epicenter of her balls. Those inner muscles clenched almost painfully hard again, faster and faster, never letting up this time. And then she was cumming.

It was like pissing the richest truffle chocolate, the sweetest choral harmony, and the purest heroin through her cock. Her eyes rolled up into her head as she let go the deluge, ignoring the struggling gurgle beneath her, ignoring everything but the entrance to Nirvana she'd been gifted. There was nothing but the flow of pleasure, the endless river of divinity that originated from within her. There was nothing, nothing in her experience that had ever come close to preparing her mind for it.

Meanwhile Mona was dealing with her own feast of carnal delight. The unmatched, surrounding pressure of Kajsa's poor cunt; the way her walls clung to Mona as she pulled back, even with all the copious lubrication, the bright pink inner flesh would barely even relinquish its grip despite being pulled into the open air where it didn't belong. Mona grinned at the thought of turning Kajsa inside out. The teenager below her was on the verge of hyperventilation, deep gasping breaths on the outstroke, blasting exhalations when Mona crashed back in.

She turned when her mom announced her orgasm, curiosity drawing her attention, but once she saw what Mama was doing, she couldn't look away while she mechanically smashed into Kajsa.

Alex was a fountain. Brilliant white cum ran over the whole length of his lower lip and down his chin and throat, poured out of both nostrils and down the sides of his face and neck. He was pawing weakly at Mama's overgrown sac which had scrunched up as high as it could, squeezing her balls so that a patch of scrotum bunched up in the front. But his begging was obviously doing nothing whatever to discourage his predicament.

Is Mama gonna kill him? She smiled, her warped little mind not even realizing how far from morality her fantasies had been driven.

Mona couldn't be sure how long it lasted—she still had a child's poor grasp of time—but eventually Alex dropped his hands, his eyes rolled back to look up at the chin of Mama who was still clearly so far in ecstasy that she didn't care what happened to him. His flat stomach was pooching out, and his back arched a bit to accommodate it. His eyes started going blood shot and drooping, his chest spasming. What she could see of his face turned from red to purple.

Then Mama's head finally came down, the biggest, dopiest grin on her face as she looked at her, and Mona couldn't help but smile back.

"I've never seen you so happy, Mama. It's good?"

The fountain was slowing down, only trickles running out of his nostrils, and the sides of his mouth being all that was overflowing now.

"Oh, it's the best, baby. I've never felt anything like this, and it's not stopping!"

"You deserved it, Mama! And so did he! Look, his face looks so stupid!"

She straightened a bit, looking down with a frown, then quickly pulled her cock out of his mouth. Her flow never quite tapering off entirely, she took a step back to watch him wobble on his knees, still pissing her cum all over his torso.

Even with the source of his inability to breathe removed, Alex continued to turn a deeper purple.

"You can breathe now, bitch-boy." Leanne and Mona shared another look, then she turned back. "Breathe. I said breathe, you idiot!"

Without thinking, she hauled off and slapped him as hard as she could, blasting his mouthful of cum ahead of him as his head careened into the rug.

And then he started breathing. Coughing and gasping and writhing, perhaps. But he was breathing.

Leanne smiled without it reaching her eyes, then squatted down, her ejaculation having attenuated to what could be considered a normal volume and rope-throwing action if not for its endlessness. She thought she'd spied something interesting. Sure enough, while the boy's brain had restarted enough to try respiration again, she moved one of his legs enough to reveal it.

His cock was rock hard and quivering.

"Mmm, you've got quite the piece here, Alex," she mused as she ran her finger along its length. It was half again as large as her own average size. In her womanly experience from a lifetime ago, which was fast retreating from her brain as something useful to hold onto, men with size like this had a curse, as the ones who had it didn't know how to use it for a woman's pleasure.

Ironically, the mash-and-bash method was now exactly what she was thinking for how to use him. She looked back at her daughter with a wicked smile. "Mona, dear."

The girl had gone back to enjoying the slow, heavy fuck of her former babysitter when she saw Alex was vomiting garden-hose gouts of semen in between gasps. Now she stopped for the odd tone in her mother's voice.

"Mona, I think it's time young Alex gets his pretty dick wet. Sit our lovely Kajsa down on your cock, dear. There's a couple of virginities that need losing."

Mona nodded and began straightening up, smiling as she watched the strained pink sleeve of Kajsa's vagina stay clinging to her shaft, following it out, only to have the enormous circumference of her glans catch at the teen's entrance.

"Mama?"

Her mom smiled at her, the glint in their respective eyes a mirror image of each other. "Go ahead, baby. You're about to put it back where it goes anyway."

Kajsa was nearly unconscious, but the wrenching pop and the ensuing infinity of the emptiness inside her brought her crashing back into her body. She was draped over a bean bag chair. Her hair was sticking to her back and face. She was limp and feverish. Her stomach felt off. And she had several inches of her birth canal hanging outside her body.

Kajsa was experiencing the truest meaning of 'cock shock'.

She could hear Leanne speaking to her, cajoling her, but she couldn't understand the words being spoken. Splats of warm liquid were landing on her butt, her back, her ribs, her shoulder, and then Leanne knelt in front of her, placing her hand under Kajsa's chin to raise her gaze.

"Oh, sweet girl. Here. Drink from me, Kajsa, that's a good girl. Oh, yes, drink Mama's milk. Mmm, yes, there's so much here for you. Take as much as you need, there's going to be more to come."

Kajsa suckled on Leanne's throbbing cockhead, a plump cherry that was giving her a neat swallow of salty sweetness every second or two, and closed her eyes, humming out a sigh of contentedness. Leanne's fingers gently combed her hair into as much order as could be made, massaging her scalp with her nails. She might have stayed there drinking for three minutes or two hours, but she opened her eyes feeling refreshed and reinvigorated.

And still empty where it mattered most.

"Mmm, Mama?" she said, smiling languidly as a rope of cum spattered her chin and cheek, "I need to get fucked. Real bad."

"Of course you do, sweetie. You're gonna be Mama's little cum dump aren't you?"

"Oh, yes, please!"

Mona chimed in, mildly indignant, "well she's gonna be my fuckdoll! And I'm gonna stuff her full of my cock whenever I want!"

Kajsa shivered with pleasure, her eyelids drooping at the thought. "Yes, I'm going to be a… a fucking sex toy for an eight year old girl!"

She was helped to her feet, as wobbling and weak as she was terminally horny, and then she was straddling Mona's narrow hips on her bed, the girl's cock sticking straight up out of her lap like a gigantic pink toadstool. She carefully aimed her recovering pussy, now only prolapsing a little, over the broad tip.

Gravity was just enough to jam the insane girth back into her body. She came all the way down the stump of a shaft until her butt cheeks were trembling against Mona's hot balls.

During this Kajsa vaguely heard Leanne chivvying Alex to some action that became clear when she was being guided by pressure from his cum-sticky torso down on top of her and Mona—who's cock was so thick and stiff it felt like it was now tunneling toward her spine rather than rotating to follow the orientation of her sex.

Leanne grinned at the view between Alex's legs. He was spread awkwardly over who might have been his girlfriend in normal circumstances, his hands and feet planted around her to keep from crushing either of her girls beneath him. His cock lay in the crack of Kajsa's thick ass and pointed down to the vibrant pink flesh of her pussy clinging to the base of Mona's cock. There was a smear of milky lubricant there that Leanne swiped up.

"Oh, Alex," Leanne teased as she slathered his dick in Kajsa's leaking pussy juice. "I saw how you looked at my beautiful Kajsa's rear end. It's such a plump thing, isn't it? You could really sink your teeth into it, like a good steak."

She sneered as his only response was a little whimper.

"Well, how about sinking this wonderful big cock of yours into it instead?" By contrast, Kajsa emphatically thanked Leanne for the idea.

With a rueful harrumph, she yanked him into position behind the teen and guided his cock to Kajsa's asshole, surreptitiously catching in her hand some of the cum she was still firing so she could rub it on her own cock.

"You might feel a slight pinch."

At the same time a howling Alex felt Leanne's modest cock jam inside somewhere nothing had ever been before, Kajsa was invaded in the loveliest way, opened and filled in a novel place. Alex's longer penis moved against Mona's through the thin membrane between her vagina and rectum, and his path meant rutting along Mona's cumvein, squeezing a sticky blob of her precum onto Kajsa's cervix like wringing a toothpaste tube empty.

Leanne fucked herself into him, still spurting the seemingly endless dregs of her orgasm, and frowned down at him as he merely hunched there and moaned. "What a little fucking faggot! You're just going to lay there and take my cock?" She slapped him across the back of his head. "You wanted to fuck this girl didn't you? So fuck her!" She slapped him again, even when he started moving his hips, just because she liked the sound.

Kajsa was in heaven. She didn't need to move much with Alex now trying to saw in and out of her asshole, and Mona didn't have much length to work with anyway so her little upward thrusts were all that were needed to send her soaring higher again.

"Yes! Yes, fuck me!" Kajsa could hear Alex whimpering and Leanne's hand colliding. She could also feel a rhythmic flexing of his cock inside her, and sometimes a dribble of precum would be added to her guts. "Please Mama, make this bitch fuck me good!"

Music to Leanne's ears, she started slamming her wide hips into Alex, feeling a fleshy little bud inside him and aiming for that over and over. Each time she hit it, it pulled a stronger moan out of him, and each time he sounded like such a fag she told him so and slapped him again, occasionally reaching around to catch his cheek with her palm as well.

She felt him orgasm, his tight virgin asshole contracting deliciously around her while he howled in despair around the fingers she'd fishhooked into his mouth. It was wonderful to drag it out of him, but she slowed down her thrusts, having already given this body a proper flooding.

Meanwhile, Kajsa was cumming as well, wringing Mona harder than the last time—a feat, as she'd recently had her vagina largely misplaced and reinserted. It was enough to make Mona jackhammer her little hips up as hard as she could, the tightening of her balls and squeezing of her perineum almost painfully strong.

She felt oozing, sticky cum be shoved out of her cock more than it was flowing, plastering the inside of Kajsa in a thick, jizzy goop. She humped and humped, each time her dickhole smashed into the abused cervix of her babysitter, and while Kajsa was still moaning in painful pleasure, Mona knew she was the only one still cumming.

And cumming.

And cumming.

Leanne felt the impacts rattle up through two bodies into her own as she smiled at her daughter buried in teenage flesh. She had stopped fucking Alex entirely now, waiting until she could drain her refilled reservoir into Kajsa this time, but still had her cock buried in the boy's ass.

The apple hasn't fallen far, she thought as she listened to Mona's howling orgasm drag on and on for more than a minute while the little girl tenderized Kajsa's insides. I can't wait for my own turn.

She looked down and saw Kajsa was struggling to keep upright as she withstood both the brutality of Mona's climax as well as what appeared to be the full weight of Alex, apparently passed out on her back.

She sneered. Hmph. Such a worthless excuse for a man. He'll have to be finished off. I don't want him to have a single thread of masculinity left in him.

Her thoughts drifted to her Amazon shopping list full of costumes and toys she'd thought to use for herself and then looked at the form below her, mentally changing the sizes she'd need.

Alex awoke very uncomfortably. He'd drifted through exhaustion as he was shifted around, and now found himself in an awkward position. His knees were under him, his ass in the air, and his head was sandwiched sideways at the edge of the mattress between it and something solid, pinned by Kajsa while she sat facing backward and had her legs wound around his shoulders. His head and neck were sticky from the gummy jizz that was seeping out of her wide-gaped pussy, and he could feel her asshole dripping onto him further up his scalp.

It may have been some of his own semen, but the lion's share was clearly Leanne's as she was hammering away at Kajsa's asshole, her enormous balls slapping against Alex's crown.

What had woken him up was the feeling of being pried apart, Kajsa's nimble fingers gripping each of his butt cheeks, her middle fingers gripping the ring of his no-longer-virginal anus.

And standing excitedly between his legs with her fat mushroom head aimed right for him was a cruelly grinning Mona. "You can't be my boyfriend, cause you're just a bitch. But if you scream real nice for me, Mama says you can be my girlfriend!"

He did scream, loud and piercing, and it set off Leanne's orgasm and vocalization, which set off Kajsa's, having never had an experience quite like having cum positively hosed into her bowels.

And so the yelling was a discordant jumble, all the more so as the back flow out of Kajsa's full colon turned Alex's scream into a desperate burbling.

Mona could only smile at her new girlfriend's strained and throbbing anal sphincter, which had only just stretched around the broad glans of her impossible cock. She figured she should probably go slow. She wasn't squeamish, but blood was still gross.

Hmm. But I wonder if I can turn Alex inside out, too, she thought, macabre curiosity outweighing caution.

Alex's part in the show was given to somebody else when he informed his director early the next morning he wouldn't be doing the show, refusing to answer any questions as he gingerly limped out of her room to go home and sleep the school day away.

His parents had forgotten when the show was to open, so finding out he wouldn't be in it anymore just made them all the happier that they'd done so.

And his father was a big fan of the new job he was taking on instead, having reservations about that pussy song and dance shit his son had been into the last few years. He even met Alex's new boss, a pretty young thing who seemed to like him an awful lot. Had his son managed to land some MILF tail? The thought of his son finally sowing some properly manly oats was enough to overlook the fact he was a babysitter for some little brat, now.

At least he's not taking it in the ass from one of those chorus queers, his father thought as he watched Leanne's hips sway on her way back to her car. He chuckled. Mmm. Wonder what she'd think of spending a night with a real man.