Monica and I had spent years grooming Clara, starting just after the new parents came back from the hospital with our firstborn. We have never been overtly sexual with Nancy, as Clara provided us with more than enough entertainment. This manifested itself in many ways, including the personalities of the two girls. Whereas Clara was reserved and lacked self-confidence from when she was a toddler, Nancy was an active spitfire full of bubbly life. This more than likely had to do with the regular spanking, later flogging sessions, we had with Clara after slipping sleeping pills into Nancy’s milk.

The plan was for us to start Nancy out formally when she turned 9 years old, even though we have been trying to teach her basic human anatomy as any responsible parents would. But this morning’s over-excitement had sped up our timeline. Monica promised me years ago that I would be the one to relieve Clara of her virginity. As her father, that was my right, just like Monica’s own father was her first. And while torture had always been on our agenda with our daughter, we didn’t quite fully plan to end her life. The scene from only a few hours ago played over in my mind again:

“You promised I could have her. Have her cunt I mean,” I told Monica as she lined up her strap-on with Clara’s cunt.

“I want her. You can have the next one,” she replied, almost breathless from excitement.

“Nancy?”

Her suggestion surprised me. We were still two years away from when we agreed to start grooming our second daughter, but this morning’s festivities clearly showed we cannot stick to a simple plan.

“Yes,” she said, almost dismissively as she readied herself to thrust into the terrified, abused girl.

“How do I know you'll keep your word?” I asked, realizing our ill-discipline with the promises we made to ourselves and to each other.

“You can do her anytime you want,” my wife responded immediately.

“Anytime? Even tonight? I mean after Clara?” I inquired. Would she let it happen so soon?

“Yes. Any hole you want,” she said without hesitation. The excitement of the moment had clearly overwhelmed her – and I was not one to swim against the current she created for us – and so also effectively ended our parenthood in a single day.

“I want her cunt,” was my only demand, before we proceeded to the final scene of Clara’s life, the climax everything she had endured up to then was building to.

Now, as Nancy and I waited for Monica to summon us to the bedroom, it dawned on me that while Clara had known about sex and had been molested and tortured before the end of her young life, Nancy had to get a crash course tonight.

A few minutes passed. I casually watched the television but my mind was preoccupied with fantasies of what was to come. My right hand gently rubbed my flaccid cock while my left arm was arched over Nancy’s shoulders. Nancy, on the other hand, was quietly sniffing next to me on the couch, also looking at the television but probably wondering why her life was changing so rapidly. We didn’t say anything to each other.

We both heard Monica coming down the hallway into the living room and looked up in unison, me struggling to contain my excitement and Nancy concerned about what we have in store for her. The cum on her forehead and cheek had mostly dried and crusted by this stage.

“Come on,” was all Monica said, still in her bathrobe, before she turned and led us back to the bedroom. As the undisputed follower in this marriage, I took my daughter by the hand and followed my wife as commanded.

As we walked into the bedroom behind Monica, she let the bathrobe fall. This revealed that she was still, in fact, still dressed in her (untied) chainmail corset from earlier. She was always something to behold for me – I was permanently in awe of her, but especially when she got down to business as she was now doing.

The next thing I noticed, and Nancy doubtless too, was Clara. Her pale, lifeless body was lying in the center of Monica and my marital bed, her head nestled between our respective pillows. I noticed the sheets and covers from this morning had been changed, certainly because they were covered in my, her, and Clara’s fuck juices, but mostly in copious amounts of Clara’s blood and puke.

“Clara is still sleeping,” Monica said as she spun around next to the bed, looking at us standing in the middle of the room. “She will not be waking up again, sweetheart. That is because the amount of love we gave her today was really too much for her to handle.”

“Today is about teaching you about love, especially a daddy’s love for his daughters, and what that involves. Look here,” Monica commanded, as she opened the right side of her corset to reveal a straight white scar from her belly button, which the assault destroyed, up toward her sternum, then suddenly to the right, over the bottom of her right breast up to just before the nipple.

“My own daddy, the grandpa you unfortunately never had the privilege to know, gave me this mark when he was showing me his love,” she explained. “After giving me a lot of his love here,” Monica’s hand shot to her pussy, shoving her middle finger into her slit as she spoke, “he also showed me love with this.”

Monica revealed her father’s bone-handled knife in its sheath on her right hip, unholstering it and displaying it to us. She pulled her hand away from her cunt and traced the edge of the blade.

“My daddy caused me much pain with this knife. But I was a little girl back then, and little girls must endure pain, especially for their daddies. Men love little girls and must give that love to them. The only good way to give that love to little girls is through cum and pain,” she said as she toyed with the knife. “This mark on Mommy’s stomach is from this knife.”

“My daddy’s love was almost too much for me to handle, like your Daddy’s love was too much for Clara to handle. But I made it. I could receive my father’s love. And today I honor my father by living out his legacy with my own daughters.”

Nancy couldn’t understand a word of any of this. She just stood trembling next to me. I stood on her left, with my hand on her right shoulder. Her eyes were red but she wasn’t crying at this moment. Her lips were quivering.

Monica introduced me to this lifestyle, which she learned from her father. Although the final assault she suffered at his hands was when she was 13 – after which he disappeared, thinking he had killed her – this came at the tail end of many years of intense abuse, to which her mother turned a blind eye. It was only by sheer luck that Monica survived and was able to bear children, so that she may teach them what her father had taught her. But unlike her father, Monica perfected the lifestyle. She would not deny her own children what her father failed to give her – the ultimate expression of paternal love.

“Girls exist to receive men’s love,” Monica continued with her exposition. “That’s what they – what you – are for. The younger a girl is, the more pain comes with love. Girls like Mommy who get through the pain and get older, receive less pain and more love. Mommy’s daddy gave me a lot of pain with his love,” Monica motioned for me to bring Nancy closer. I gently pushed her forward with my hand and we approached.

Monica motioned to the scar, taking Nancy’s hand and tracing the scar with her daughter’s index finger.

“Now is your turn to receive your Daddy’s love, and hurt for Daddy,” she said, sheathing her knife and bending down to Nancy’s height. “But honey… I don’t know whether you will make it through.” Monica pulled Nancy closer and kissed her on the lips.

“Here’s the thing, darling. While this is how love is displayed… hate is displayed in exactly the same way. So that they feel alike, with pain and hurt, is no surprise.”

“What is important, Nancy,” she said our daughter’s name, indicating that the business was about to start, “is that you need to be fucked. Fucked by Daddy.”

Monica rose up and tied her corset tightly, the chainmail rustling audibly. Taking a deep breath, in one fell motion, she grabbed the neckline of Nancy’s nightie dress, and in a strong yank, ripped it off her body. The force of the action lifted the little 7 year old up several inches off the ground in the process. A girlish cry rang out.

Monica threw a nod in my direction. We had not planned out how tonight would go down, but I was happy to go with the flow. Standing behind our now completely naked daughter, I stabbed both my hands under Nancy’s arms and effortlessly lifted her up, and threw her down on the bed next to her deceased sister.

Nancy immediately tried to scramble back off the bed but Monica answered this with a hard backhanded slap across her face, sending her tumbling back.

“You did not have a chance to say goodnight to Clara, darling,” Monica pointed out. “Kiss your sister.”

Nancy looked up at her parents, completely bewildered by what was happening. She did not follow her mother’s command.

“I said, KISS your sister, whore!” Monica commanded again, swooping onto the bed and grabbing Nancy by the back of her neck, yanking her toward her Clara layed. “Now!”

Nancy, now crying, with tears streaming down her cheeks, gave a reluctant and half-hearted kiss on her ice cold sister’s cheek.

“Do you call that a kiss, princess?” I asked, not wanting to be left out of the fun. I joined my three girls on the bed, on the opposite side of Clara from where Monica and Nancy were. I quickly moved toward Nancy, grabbed her by the shoulders, and pushed my mouth against hers. With some effort, I forced my tongue into her mouth, playing with hers for a good few seconds. We separated.

“That is how you kiss a girl with love. Show your sister how much you love her,” I ordered, still holding onto Nancy’s shoulders and pushing her toward Clara’s upper body.

“Daddy… Mommy… wh…” she started, getting cut off as Monica slapped her over the head again. Nancy cried out from the sudden pain, glancing over her shoulder at her strict mother. Without saying a word, Monica’s expression told Nancy all she needed to know.

Our youngest crawled over to her sister’s face and plowed her face into Clara’s. From my vantage point I could see Nancy making a gallant effort to french kiss her older sibling the way I had just demonstrated, although this being her first try it was certainly awkward.

Monica smiled at me as the smooching sounds beamed from Nancy. I returned the smile. My wife hopped off the bed and walked to the bedroom drawer. Out of it she retrieved the flogger she had used brutally on Clara earlier. I could clearly see that the whip’s lashes remained stained by dry blood. She ran the lashes through her fingers as she approached the bed again.

As Nancy was bent over her sister’s torso, kissing, I took the opportunity to run my hands over her nether regions. She squealed as I parted her ass cheeks, but her mother commanded her to continue “saying goodnight” to Clara. I shifted my body so I was directly behind the little girl, Monica observing from the side of the bed. My already hard cock strained in the open air as I dove my face into her butt.

What a heavenly smell. The scent of a recently bathed girl, with the faint aroma of piss.

My nose rested against her pucker. I let my tongue slide across her undeveloped slit. I could feel her shiver. I pressed it inside, lightly licking over her hymen in a circling motion and marking my territory.

The child was definitely not going to produce juices herself, so I was doing both necessary and pleasurable work with her pussy. If there was any hope in hell of me getting to my prize with my cock, it had to be well lubricated. Even then, from what I knew about prior encounters with cunt this young, and what my tongue was quickly discovering, we'd need even more help.

“Now, darling,” Monica spoke to Nancy as I continued to feast. “Move down, and kiss your sister where Daddy is kissing you now.”

I reached forward and grabbed Nancy by her shoulders, pulling her back towards me, with my nose still pushing firmly against her asshole. “Do it,” I grumbled before returning to the job at hand. I put my hand on the back of Nancy’s head, pushing it down toward Clara’s pelvis.

Nancy sobbed quietly as she unenthusiastically drew her tongue along the top of Clara’s mound. Monica now stood at the side of the bed. I was at the end of the bed, licking Nancy’s pussy from behind. She, in turn, was on her knees, bent over, her ass in the air for me, and her face working on her sister’s nether region. Monica was standing directly beside Nancy.

From the corner of my eye, I could see a form move quickly into the air. I knew instinctively that I had to withdraw my hand, which was still holding Nancy’s head. I pulled away, returning it to prying her butt cheeks open, just before I saw the form come down.

I heard THWACK! and felt Nancy stiffen, as her mother brought the flogger down on her back and right side. Nancy’s head shot up. She yelped.

“I didn’t say you can stop, Nancy!” Monica commanded firmly. Nancy ignored her as she cried.

I quickly raised my hand again and pushed her head back down. Nancy complied, but instead of eating her sister’s pussy, she just laid her head on Clara’s pubic area and cried. I withdrew my hand again.

Monica went in again. THWACK! I immediately felt my tongue wetten and perceived the foul taste of piss as Nancy let a few drops go. Foul as it might be, I was in heaven.

On the fourth blow, I felt liquid spray across my forehead. I lifted my head to see what it was, and confirming my suspicions, Monica had finally cut through Nancy’s skin. It was blood, glorious blood. Not wanting to get any in my eyes, I closed them quickly, and pressed my tongue into Nancy’s pucker.

I was not disappointed, as with the next THWACK! I felt Nancy’s asshole clench my tongue tightly. Our daughter balled, letting out a yelp every time her mother’s strict disciplining made contact with her frail body. Monica was breathing heavily as she pounded away. The faint smell of sweat was also filling the room.

Monica was the one in the family with the insatiable bloodlust, not me. It would not be incorrect to say that I was simply along for the ride, today and on the many previous occasions we indulged her proclivities. (Of course, we had never gone as far with anyone as we had today with our own daughters). But I would be lying if I said the blood spraying across my face, over Clara’s stomach, and over our marital bed sheets wasn’t a turn-on. My cock certainly thought that it was.

My tongue continued to explore the entrance to Nancy’s guts as Monica relented, out of breath. She dropped the flogger on the floor, and sat on her knees next to the bed, her face parallel with Nancy’s body.

I opened my eyes, and saw Monica twirling Nancy’s hair and cooing to the child. She had a tender, motherly smile on her face. With her other hand, Monica was dragging her index finger over Nancy’s bloodied back, over the tears that her whip had created. Every time she touched an open wound Nancy would squeal quietly, her pucker gripping my tongue.

After a few seconds, Monica brought her finger to her mouth, and licked the blood off. She also spread some of the blood over her lips and mouth. She then angled forward, and gave Nancy a bloodied kiss on her forehead, where my dried cum was still visible.

Monica leaned forward even more, whispering something into Nancy’s ear for several seconds. My mouth and jaw were getting tired at this stage after several minutes of licking and prodding, so I withdrew my tongue from her butt and stood up.

After Monica stopped whispering to our daughter, she also got up, threw me a smile with her bloody mouth, and walked out of the room. Nancy started crying audibly again.

I took a seat on the bed, and pulled my sobbing daughter toward me. I flipped her over, so she would be facing me. My arms were quickly stained by the blood running off her battered back.

“Daddy…” Nancy cried. I rubbed her flat tits as she laid back in my arm. “Mommy… Mommy… wants to kill me.”

I realized what Monica must have whispered to her. I smiled down at the girl.

“What did Mommy say, princess?”

“That… that…” she said through gasped cries.

“Shhh, baby, take your time,” I said, as my free hand moved down to her pussy. I gently massaged the little nub that would give older girls much sexual pleasure.

“That,” Nancy sniffed, “to die,” she sniffed again, “for you…” she took a deep breath, “would be the ultimate show of love…”

I grinned at Nancy, who was looking up at me with her red, swollen eyes. Some of her golden hair stuck to her face, curving over her forehead, between her eyes, down the side of her nose, and stopping in the middle of her quivering upper lip. I brought my hand from her clit and gently moved the hair out of her face. The rest of her hair splayed underneath her, over the bed covers and over Clara’s thighs.

“Oh, princess,” I said, kindly, “I would love nothing more.” I kissed her forehead where her unruly hair had just been, and where Monica’s bloody lip-print was.

“But… but I don’t want to die,” she said, sniffing and wiping tears from under her eyes.

“I know honey, I know,” I answered sympathetically. “But you love your Mommy. You also love me, don’t you?” I asked. Looking up at me with her swollen, tearful red eyes, she nodded. “And I want Mommy to be happy,” I explained.

She started to cry more forcefully, realizing I wasn’t entirely in her corner. Before today, she was always a daddy’s girl.

“Don’t cry, sweetie. We love you,” I said, holding her in my arms and giving her another kiss on the forehead. “We abuse you out of love. We don’t know any higher expression of true love than brutal sexual and physical violence… understand?”

She just continued to sob in my arms, not answering. Her immature mind clearly couldn’t process the information I was sharing with her.

"It would be wrong for us to let you live after tonight, princess," I continued. "Imagine the trauma you would be saddled with for the rest of your life…"

I then saw Monica coming back into the room, carrying a small bottle of lube. She had also re-equipped herself with the huge black strap-on from earlier in the day. The dildo was just as thick as my own cock but was considerably longer. It had completely obliterated Clara’s womanhood.

“It’s time I made good on my promise,” she told me as she walked over to the bed. She sat down next to Nancy and me, crossing her legs. The strap-on dildo almost smacked Nancy in the face. My wife smiled at our daughter as she opened the bottle, and squirted some jelly onto her fingers. My heart started to beat quickly with excitement.

As Monica touched Nancy’s pussy with the cold lubricant, the small child shivered in my arms. Her mother spread it all over her slit and over her asshole. Tears continued to fall down Nancy’s face as she watched and felt her mother work.

I scooted out from under Nancy, letting her lie back onto the bed, with her head now resting on Clara’s upper leg. Nancy didn’t dare move without her mother’s permission. I stood and watched as Monica spread some more jelly before handing me the bottle.

As I spread a generous amount of lubricant over my hard dick, Monica also stood up. Before stepping away, she pressed both her hands between Nancy’s thighs and pushed her legs apart.

“Keep your legs open, Nancy,” my wife commanded. “You are about to receive your father’s love.” Nancy didn’t answer, but her legs didn’t close again, inviting her father inside. Monica stepped out of the way, giving me a nod.

I leaned in, grabbing my cock in one hand and pressing the other under Nancy to lift her ass off the bed. Towering above her, my knees on the bed, I brought my cock to my daughter’s cunt. Precum added to the lube already coating the entrance.

Monica walked around the bed and went to sit on the other side of Nancy, above her head. The thick dildo now fell across Nancy’s forehead, which startled the child. She kept still, the fake cock now obstructing half her face from my perspective. Monica and I were now in reversed roles from when we made love to Clara earlier.

With my hand under Nancy’s ass, I pulled her toward me, while I leaned in with my body to try to break ground inside my daughter. Try as I might, pushing with my other hand on my cock, I couldn’t even get a small part of the head in. Nancy didn’t even react to the siege, as my dick was simply sliding over her pussy lips.

I looked up at Monica disappointingly, shaking my head. “Too small…”

“Let’s try another position,” she said. I stepped back and away from Nancy.

Monica grabbed the small child, picking her up effortlessly.

“Lie down,” she told me. I went back to the bed and shoved Clara’s body out of the way. I laid on my back, my cock aiming straight upwards.

Monica put Nancy down on my stomach, pushing her legs either side of me. In turn, my wife stood between my legs, which were now hanging over the side of the bed, feet on the floor.

While I couldn’t see precisely what was happening behind Nancy, it was quite clear that Monica was aiming her strap-on at Nancy’s pucker. I felt Nancy be slightly shoved, as her mother attempted to see whether the dildo could make it into her ass. She clicked her tongue in frustration.

I pushed myself up by my elbows, looking up at Monica. Nancy was straddling me, my erect cock now resting in the cleavage between her butt cheeks.

Monica bit her lower lip, sighed deeply, and without a moment’s further hesitation, unsheathed her father’s knife.

“When there’s a will…” she started, flipping the knife over with its bone handle pointed at me. I looked back at her, confused.

Monica extended the knife further toward me. I was dumbfounded. She had never let me wield the blade before.

“You have the honor tonight, my love. You are Nancy’s father. Show her your love with this, as my father did 24 years ago,” she instructed. I deferentially took the family heirloom from her, still not entirely sure about taking the role of the dom in the situation.

“Monica, are you sure?” I asked, holding the blade. Nancy looked up at what was happening right above her small head, with wide eyes. She whimpered and started to audibly cry again.

Monica smiled tenderly at me, nodding. “Yes, dear. It is only right.”

My grip on the knife tightened as a new resolve came over me. I would not disappoint her or the family tradition she was attempting to honor.

“Any girl who cannot take two cocks at the same time has failed as a woman,” Monica said, placing her hand on Nancy’s left shoulder. “We have to fix this problem for you, sweetie.” Monica stepped back.

I used my left arm to tightly grip Nancy’s body. The girl was small enough for me to hug her tightly against my chest with only one arm, squeezing both her left and right arms tightly against her body.

With my right hand, gripping the knife, I brought it to Nancy’s butt. She let out a shiver as she felt the cold steel on the left cheek. Immediately I felt my groin get wet as she pissed all over me. She struggled.

“No! Daddy please!” she cried out, wiggling back and forth. I had to slide forward and off the bed, otherwise I could accidentally slip with her struggling and cut my own cock.

Now standing, with Nancy squeezed tightly against me, chest to chest, I redoubled my efforts. I brought the knife between her legs, which now had more freedom to kick around. I sighed in frustration.

Monica saw my struggle and moved closer. She grabbed both of Nancy’s legs and gripped them tight, and spread them out. Droplets of piss fell to the floor, splashing on Monica’s feet. This gave me more room to work.

Although I couldn’t see beneath Nancy, my task was theoretically simple enough. I traced the blade along her butt crack until I felt her asshole. Marking my route, I traced it further until I could feel the undeveloped slit. Nancy was still crying, loudly now, and trying to struggle, but between me and Monica, both quite strong, the 7 year old didn’t stand a chance.

Taking a deep breath, I moved Monica’s father’s knife back to Nancy’s asshole, and pushed slowly until I felt the muscle give way. In a matter of a few seconds, I thrusted only slightly upwards, into the pucker, and then changed direction toward me. In this single motion, I sliced through Nancy’s perineum, creating one large gash to fit both my cock in her pussy and Monica’s strap-on in her ass. The cut had to be quite deep, so the muscle keeping the invading entities out gave enough slack. But I made sure to try and avoid Nancy’s hymen, which was reserved not for this weapon, but the weapon between my legs. The blade stopped right before it got to her pussy opening, but hopefully having cut through enough muscle.

Nancy gave out such an extremely high-pitched scream that even Monica flinched – a rare sight! While the neighbors were, after all these years, probably used to the bizarre sounds that were emitted from our household, this level of volume would not do anyone any good.

At the same time, a stronger torrent of piss shot out of her bloodied private region – it was unclear what to call the single gash that used to represent two orifices – quickly wetting the carpet and both Monica’s and my legs. Blood was also quickly starting to pool and stain.

A mere second or two later, shit – covered in blood as it came out the now sizable pucker – started coming out of the young child’s ass, falling on the floor between her parents. The light thuds was not what made me realize this immediately. The smell did that.

I brought my hand back up. Both the knife and my hand were covered mostly in blood, but also small, liquidy brown chunks that were rolling down the length of the blade and also making their way down my forearm.

Monica let go of Nancy’s legs, which immediately began to kick wildly in all directions, so that she could put her hand over Nancy’s mouth. The piercing yell was instantly replaced with a muffled scream, bringing my needed relief to everyone’s ears.

I threw the knife onto the bed, and followed it by falling backwards, returning to the position Nancy and I were in a few moments ago. Monica followed as she kept her hand over Nancy’s mouth.

As I laid back on the bed, I released my tight grip on Nancy’s body, placing them on her hips. Her legs again fell to my sides, as she straddled me. I could feel blood splattering all over my dick and around my groin. Nancy’s arms, now free, flayed about, her hands slapping me all over my torso.

I then used my right hand to guide my dick back toward its new home. In the meantime, Monica resumed her posture, aiming the strapon back at Nancy’s now enlarged asshole. She let go of Nancy’s mouth.

The kid’s shock had weakened her. She was crying with force, but the ear-piercing shouts were gone.

As my cock made contact with the upper part of the gash between Nancy’s legs, I could feel her stiffen with pain. But I was committed.

Once I was satisfied that my cock head was nestled securely against her bloody cunt lips, I put both my hands back on her hips, and pulled her down towards me. I shoved my dick upwards.

Nancy let out another yelp, as I felt the head of my dick bury itself inside her pussy. I felt more blood streaming over my life-giver. Her open palms turned into fists as she banged on my chest and my arms. Between her cries she gasped for breath.

Once the first inch was in, I could feel Monica between my legs, no doubt taking aim herself. I felt Nancy being pushed slightly forward. I knew Monica was now pushing the strap-on dildo into Nancy’s ass. I helped by pushing the child backward. As this happened, another inch of my cock moved inside her. Monica’s dildo also slipped in, a full three inches. I could feel the hard tool against the base of my cock, through some remaining layers of flesh inside the small girl.

It remained an extremely tight fit in the 7 year old child.

I didn’t get much further in when I felt the next layer of resistance bumping against my dick head: Nancy’s cervix. Monica, meanwhile, was having a far easier time with the little girl’s rectum, with about half of the dildo sliding in and out. The copious amount of blood helped us both progress deeper.

Despite the fact that I had cum twice earlier that evening, I could feel my balls preparing to shoot. I grunted, taking a deep breath.

“I belong inside her,” I told Monica as I peered at her over Nancy. “This was meant to be.”

Monica gave a deep thrust into our daughter's bowels, her black hair wet with sweat, and sticking over her face and shoulders. “Yes! This is the true meaning of love!” she exclaimed.

With one final thrust, I inhaled deeply and smacked my cock against her cervix and felt raw pleasure tippling from my balls up my spine. Shot after shot of hot, parental semen coated the small entrance to Nancy’s uterus. I exhaled.

“Take my love,” I whispered to Nancy, who was crying on my chest, smearing snot and spit all over me, “take Daddy’s love.” The final few spurts of cum erupted, joining the piss and blood pooling all over my groin.

I felt Monica pop out of Nancy’s ass as I laid panting, my cock still snug in her pussy.

“My turn for some affection, darling,” Monica announced, as she spun Nancy over with me still inside her. Nancy now laid on her back on my chest. I grabbed hold of her arms.

Monica climbed atop the bed and straddled us both. She brought her cunt down onto Nancy’s face, Monica’s cunt covering both her mouth and nose. The little girl was sobbing but didn’t offer much resistance. Monica started rubbing herself to and fro over Nancy’s nose. “Lick me, whore!” she commanded. I repeated the order into Nancy’s ears.

Monica threw her head back and moaned as Nancy’s tongue reluctantly came out of her mouth. Even though Nancy’s hair was splayed over most of my face, I could see enough of this spectacular scene unfolding a mere few inches from my eyes.

My wife started rubbing her clit as she rocked back and forth, quickly building up toward an orgasm.

“Give Mommy whatever you have left!” Monica shouted, sitting down completely on Nancy’s face with her full weight. Her ass pressed heavily onto the girl’s throat. I could hear the child trying to scream but this no doubt sent joyous vibrations directly into Monica’s cunt. Nancy’s mother moaned again, loudly.

The little body started to try to thrash around, but with Monica sitting on her head and me holding her arms tightly, only her blood coated legs could really move, but to no avail. I felt blood continuing to ooze out over my softening cock.

Within seconds Monica’s body shuddered as she peaked, lightly squirting all over Nancy’s and my faces. With a deep exhale she let even more weight onto the poor girl beneath her. Almost at once with Monica’s last moan, Nancy went limp as I felt any remaining struggle with her arms evaporate.

Monica just fell sideways, next to Clara on the bed, panting.

“Was…” she breathed, “it worth it?” my wife asked.

I turned my head, looking at her through Nancy’s hair locks, savoring all the smells I could discern.

“Worth giving up access to Clara’s pussy?” she elaborated.

I sighed, looking back up at the roof.

“Absolutely,” I answered. “I’ve never felt anything tighter than this,” I said, letting go of Nancy’s arms and exploring her ravaged body with my hands. “I feel honored to have been the one to take her virginity…” I panted, “rather than some boy she’d now never meet.”

“But,” I added, grimacing, “I don’t think my dick has ever hurt this much…” I said. I tried to keep still, as every time it twitched, I felt a very uncomfortable pain in my cock. It was tender to the touch. “It’s gonna need a break.”

Through the slight pain, I joined Monica in chuckling, as the room fell to silence.

***

Next Morning

I woke up first, several hours – or was it merely minutes? – later. The stench in the air, blood, feces, a by-now-well-decomposing Clara and a recently deceased Nancy, was horrific. The eroticism that it was paired with previously was now gone. While I had a strong stomach, an occupational requirement of being married to Monica, I could feel nausea beginning to develop. The pressure Nancy’s body was applying to my stomach wasn’t helping.

I slowly pushed Nancy off me, off the end of the bed. Monica woke up with a yawn as the little body thudded on the floor. The peaceful, soft sound of birds chirping outside alongside a faint ray of light beginning to develop through the curtains, contrasted starkly with the events that had transpired the previous evening.

Monica looked at me and crawled over.

“So,” my wife started, stretching out her arms before folding them on my chest, laying down her head in front of my face, “how does it feel to be a free agent again, like before we had children?”

I noticed the dried blood still on her lips.

“Well, it hasn’t settled in yet, but I can feel the first sensations of liberation,” I answered, smiling. I immediately retched lightly from my growing nausea, before asking, “How about you? Do you think you’re going to miss your 11-year sojourn into motherhood?”

“Eleven years and nine months,” Monica corrected me. “But who’s counting the irrelevant pregnancy years?” she teased.

“Alright, alright, no need to bring your feminism into bed,” I said, laughing, giving her a quick kiss on the lips. “Answer me, though!”

“No, I don’t think I’ll miss it,” Monica replied, biting her lower lip and smiling at the same time. “I think childlessness will suit me… suit us.” She continued, “But, that doesn’t mean we can never… have some fun with kids again, does it?”

“No, I don’t think it does,” I responded, leaning forward to kiss my wife more fully. As our tongues intermingled, I thought to myself that I would be damned if Nancy was going to be the last child cunt I lovingly fuck, destroy, and kill. Hell, I might even grow used to the cannibal lifestyle.

As Monica and I kissed, I interrupted my own thought, realizing that as erotic as consuming young female flesh is, as a matter of preference, nothing beats ordinary, everyday grilled chicken. With that thought, I realized my nausea was being replaced with a new concentration on my painful, but erecting cock.

THE END