Jenny's Couch, Book 5 Chapter 9

I slept poorly and woke early to the devastating news of a mass shooting at the city's biggest queer bar, suspected to be the work of MAGA terrorists. I was fumbling with the coffee grinder when the security system beeped and I heard the back door click open. WTF? It wasn't even dawn, there was no way Renee or Karen would be up and out this early on a Saturday morning. I heard two sets of footsteps on the stairs and then confusion turned to shock when Lilah - who should've been locked in her kennel upstairs - stumbled into the kitchen, naked as always, her hair, face, and upper chest slathered with frozen gore. Fresh blood was smeared on the insides of her skinny thighs and dripped from one clenched fist. Her ribbon was gone and ugly bruises were darkening on her pierced vulva. Then, another shock, a second child followed her into the kitchen. This one was at least normal-looking, about Lilah's height but more filled out, dressed in a coat that was much too large for her and torn jeans and worn canvas sneakers much too light for the weather. Her face was mostly hidden by shoulder length hair so tangled and greasy the color was uncertain but her pale blue eyes were puffy and red and there were tear-tracks down her dirty face. Lilah took a step towards me and fainted, collapsing onto her face on the floor. I stuttered out something brilliant like, "The fuck?" The child flinched away from me and in a tiny voice said, "Charlie's dead. They're all dead," and burst into wracking sobs.

The kid was inconsolable, and it was clear I wasn't going to get anything out of her. It was equally clear that Lilah needed more immediate attention so I left the new girl to wrap herself into a ball of misery in the corner and gently lifted Lilah and set her on her back on the kitchen table. Her skin was icy cold and pale. Her lips were blue, but in the warmth of the predawn kitchen her color was already improving.

First I examined her privates. The bruising on her vulva was bad but sad to say, in her short life she'd had way worse. None of the skin around the six grommets in her labia majora looked torn, and none of the blood on her thighs seemed to be from external injuries so I gently peeled her labia apart. Someone had used her very badly. There were several small tears visible in the delicate tissue and there was some inflammation but any bleeding had stopped, maybe helped by the freezing temperatures.

I ran to fetch Karen's kit from her bathroom. I slathered some antibiotic cream on my index finger and then gently inserted it into Lilah's cunt, rotating it slowly to coat her insides well. She moaned quietly but didn't wake. Her head fell to the side on the kitchen table and drool leaked around her tusks to puddle under her cheek. I massaged anesthetic cream all over her labia and mound, hoping that would dull the pain of her bruising. Then I moved on to her hand and realized it was by far the more severe injury, and more than I could deal with. She had been stabbed clear through her palm and the edges of the wound were ragged and torn. There was white bone exposed at one edge. I could only hope none of the many tendons in the hand had been severed. I cleaned it with alcohol as best I could and wrapped her hand in gauze but more was going to have to wait for Karen to get here later in the morning. Thank goodness it was Saturday.

I carried Lilah upstairs and set her on the bed, then unlocked her cage. After thinking for a minute, I went all the way downstairs to the garage and rummaged around until I found another padlock. I set Lilah inside on her dog bed, made sure she had water and the urinal jug was clean and empty, then swapped out the padlocks and locked her in.

Back in the kitchen, the new girl was still curled up in the corner, hands wrapped tight around her knees, eyes staring at nothing as tears ran silently down her face. Rather than try to talk to her I set about getting breakfast organized. If she was the street kid she looked like she was probably hungry. Sure enough, as the fragrance of frying bacon filled the kitchen I saw she was now watching me work. Just for her I scrambled six eggs and eight strips of bacon and four pieces of toast. I put her plate down on the table closest to her corner and another with my much smaller portion opposite. "Come have something to eat," I said neutrally, and then tucked into my own breakfast while ostensibly ignoring her.

It took a minute or two but she unfolded herself and warily slid into a chair. Without taking her eyes off me she took a bite of scrambled eggs, chewed, swallowed. Then she took another bite, then another, and then she was shoveling the food in as fast as she could. Her plate was empty before mine was half done. The look she gave me then was timid but challenging, as if to say "ok, now what will that cost me?"

I finished my meal while she watched. I put down my fork, rested my chin on my folded hands and looked back at her. "What's your name?" Silence. OK, give information, don't ask for it. "This is where Lilah lives. If you know her then you can guess we're different. You can get up and leave now if you want. No one will stop you. But you can stay here, at least for now, no strings. Up to you."

The child absorbed that. Her wary expression didn't change but after a few moments she asked in a small voice, "What happened to her?"

"She was taken by some bad people. They did all those...things to her body. And it broke something up here, you know?" I tapped my temple. I skipped right over my complicity in Lilah's transformation from innocent seven-year-old to mutilated, psychotic fuck toy. No reason to burden the kid with that. "We do what we can to keep her safe and out of sight, which apparently wasn't quite enough. I think she might be happy, I dunno." I shrugged. "She's at least better off."

"She...I think she killed people tonight. Bad people. They killed..." her face crumpled and she could barely get the next words out. "They killed my brother."

I kept my face impassive, but the pieces started to fit together. The report had said that all the terrorists were found dead at the scene. If my previous suspicions were correct, these wouldn't have been the first murders committed by the tiny nine-year-old girl sleeping upstairs.

Between a full stomach and the draining away of the night's adrenaline, this kid was done in. Her eyelids were drooping and she was swaying in the chair. "Why don't you lay down and rest for a while?" I held out a hand and she instinctively drew back but when I got up she followed me, carefully out of arm's reach. I led her up to the bedroom I used. "See, Lilah's right there," I pointed at her cage where she was snoring wetly. The kid was too tired to do more than look askance at the padlocked dog kennel. She climbed onto my bed and curled up on her side with a fist under her chin, and was asleep in seconds. Then there was nothing to do but wait for Karen.

The girls arrived around nine-thirty, stamping the snow off and in the midst of an argument. They were both wearing gigantic puffy coats and matching snowboots, Karen's in pastel and Renee's an eye-watering crimson. Under the coat Karen wore dark green corduroy pants with a matching jacket while her younger sister had on a dark woolen dress and tights. Karen's straight blonde hair and Renee's wavy brown were both loose under knit hats, Renee's with earflaps. "You should call them," Karen was saying, "It's not polite to just not show up." Karen was always concerned with the social proprieties, pretty funny for a girl who had been a compulsive prostitute since her first gangbang at age 11 and who I knew would frequently shuck off her panties in the middle school girls' room at the end of the day for ease of access to whatever horny stranger she might encounter in the park on the way home.

"It's too snowy, my knees'll get all wet and cold," Renee replied blithely. "They won't care. Well, they will care, but I don't. They'll still line up to get their penises sucked next time." At age eleven Renee could be just as transactional as her older sister but she was not interested in money. She got off on fucking boys up the ass with her strap-on and that was her price for dispensing her oral favors.

I interrupted their good-natured bickering, "Karen, I need you to get Dr. Morton on the phone right away." Dr. Morton was the retired physician who got Karen her birth control and made sure she was STI-free. In exchange for a discount, of course.

Karen balked. "I don't have time," she said. "I'm volunteering at the animal shelter this morning, and Renee was going to...help me out." Karen dipped her head to hide her blush, which went nuclear when Renee piped up, "She's been too busy to fuck all week and she's really whory." It was hilarious the way Karen could still be embarrassed to confess her body's needs to me, who had seen her cum-drunk, coated with semen from head to toe, so cunt-sore she could hardly walk after taking on all comers for hours at a time. And I also knew her bank balance which was fast approaching six figures, all earned with her formerly-preteen-now-just-barely-teenaged pussy.

"You have to make time," I said brusquely. "Lilah's hurt." I could see "Good!" was on the tip of Karen's tongue but the look on my face forestalled her. "Get on the phone. Now."

Karen flounced back down the stairs to fetch her smartphone, the one her parents didn't know about, but she didn't dally. She was already talking to the doctor as she came back up. "Yes, ok, a freebie if you get here in fifteen minutes, plus half-price for the next month." She sat down with us at the kitchen table and for the next thirteen minutes she figeted and squirmed in her chair. I could tell she badly wanted to masturbate. Of course, she pretty much always wanted to masturbate.

When the back door bell rang she was out of her chair like a shot and down the stairs. Her little sister snorted soft laughter. "What a giant whore."

"Let's go upstairs," I said.

"You just want to watch her whoring," Renee was openly laughing at me.

"Yup."

Renee stopped dead in the doorway to the bedroom when she saw a strange child asleep in my bed but I waved her in with a brusque "Later." I switched on the widescreen tv on the wall and flipped it to the security feed. It showed Karen in an embrace with the doctor, a statuesque woman of a well-preserved seventy with gray hair in a bob cut and a severe face. Karen's blouse was already unbuttoned and as I watched the doctor popped the front clasp on her bra, freeing her perfectly round and perky breasts. Karen threw her head back as the doctor fondled the thirteen-year-old, flicking her thumbs across Karen's cherry-sized nipples as they flushed and engorged. Karen tilted her head forward for a kiss but the doctor had other ideas. She unsnapped Karen's corduroys and yanked them down with her panties, then shoved the girl down onto the bed. She crouched, pulled Karen's pants down further to her ankles, then with a hand on each knee stretched Karen's thighs open wide and dived between them. I turned up the sound in time to hear Karen exclaim, "My cunt! Eat my whore cunt!" The doctor didn't need the invitation. She shoved her face into Karen's lubricious slit and slurped lustily at the creamy goo that bubbled out onto her tongue. Karen moaned softly and continuously, tossing her head from side to side on the bedspread. It didn't take long before her legs started twitching with little preorgasmic shivers, but then she groaned in frustration as the doctor stood. She grinned down at the young teen, wiping her face with one hand and licking her fingers, then pulled her shirtdress up and off in a single motion, dropping it on the bed next to Karen and revealing a toned but aged body in bra and thigh-high stockings - no panties.

The doctor mounted the bed, turned around and planted a sparse gray bush on Karen's face. "Make me cum, you little whore," she demanded, and Karen went to work. As she slurped and and sucked and nibbled away, the doctor played with Karen's clit. Like many of the people Karen sold her body to, the doctor was fascinated with the oversized bud and the way it curled under like a fat crimson popcorn shrimp. She used thumb and forefinger to grab the tip and uncurl it to its full length. She had to pinch hard because the wrinkled flesh was thoroughly slimed with Karen's juices. Karen moaned into the doctor's furred snatch.

As Karen continued to enthusiastically lick, the doctor used the fingers of her free hand to flick at and strum Karen's tightly stretched clitoris. The effect was dramatic. Karen's body jerked and her legs came up and bicycled in the air. Her muffled moans got louder and more frantic, and she gripped the doctor's hips so hard her fingertips were white. Her vaginal opening and her asshole clenched and released, clenched and released as pleasure radiated from her swollen pleasure bud and filled her entire body. She redoubled her oral efforts until the doctor bit her lip and a groan escaped her lipsticked mouth. Her eyes squeezed shut and she threw her head back and suddenly Karen's moans warbled as her mouth was flooded with hot liquid. Her blonde hair, fanned out around her on the bedspread, darkened with overflowing fluids.

Having reached her climax, the doctor wasted no time returning the favor. She used both hands to squeeze Karen's clitoris, tugging on it until it slipped through thumb and forefinger then grabbing it at the root with her other hand and repeating, moving faster and faster as Karen's moaning rapidly escalated to cries. "Oh, ah, ah, AH, AH, ARRRRG!" Karen groaned into her partner's bush as her legs thumped down on the bed. Hot cream sprayed from her teen pussy, wetting the honey-toned skin of her thighs, the bedspread, and the carpet below. I smiled to think of the pungent aroma of Karen's arousal filling the room.

Karen was still twitching with orgasmic aftershocks when the doctor dismounted. Before putting her dress back on she consulted her watch. "Twelve and a half minutes. One of the advantages of aging, darling, is you know your body and it gets easier to take care of business." She looked down at Karen who seemed oblivious with a blissful smile on her wet face. "Not that that seems to be your problem." When Karen didn't respond she leaned down and laid a not-too-gentle backhand slap on Karen's oozing quim. She started and her eyes slowly focused. "Child, didn't you say you had somewhere to be?"

"Oh, jeez, yes," Karen jumped up and ran into the bathroom. The sound of water running came through the tv's sound bar.

I had gotten wrapped up in watching Karen's little show. I realized that I was wasting time rubbing myself and the doctor would be joining us momentarily. I unlocked Lilah's cage and lifted her out. Her head lolled back and she continued to snore. I put her on the bed opposite where her little friend still slept. I stretched out her left arm and let it dangle off the edge of the mattress, quickly cleared a small end table of lamp and potted plant and placed it under the injured hand. Lilah still seemed completely out of it and I had to hope she would stay that way. Then as I heard the doctor's footsteps coming up the stairs I dashed to the linen closet, grabbed a royal blue sheet and tossed it over Lilah, concealing her entirely except for her hand.

I was given a few extra seconds to compose myself as the doctor detoured into my bathroom to wash her face and hands. I ushered her in and gestured towards the end table where Lilah's gauze-wrapped hand rested. The doctor looked at it, looked at the sheet covering the rest of Lilah, then looked at me. "What the fuck is this?" she demanded.

"Well, uh, the patient is very scared of doctors so..."

Doctor Morton quelled me with a look. "Young man, I'm too old to listen to bullshit. I need to see my patient," and she went to lift the sheet.

I moved to block her. Her face darkened with anger. I swallowed hard and said, "You really don't, Doctor Morton. It'll just raise questions you don't want to ask and don't want to have to answer later. Please."

She pinned me with her stare, then pursed her lips and exhaled slowly. "Your patient is a nine-year-old female, a little underweight but otherwise healthy. We just need you to see to her hand. Please," I repeated. She stared at me for another long moment, then knelt by the table and set down her bag. As she unwrapped the gauze dressing the sheet fell back, exposing Lilah's forearm with its hideous, bizarre tattooing. Again the doctor fixed a baleful stare on me but as the last layer of gauze came off her attention was fully absorbed in the wound. She sucked in another angry breath. "It didn't happen here," I babbled. "She was involved in the...in an incident last night."

"Hmph," and with that the doctor went to work. She examined the stab wound, rotating Lilah's wrist to see both sides. She gently bent each finger in turn, curling and straightening it. I fought an upsurge of nausea as something white and glistening moved in the wound. "No damage to the tendons," she muttered. "Lucky. A nick on the metacarpal, there," and without looking up, "I need more light." I scurried to obey, bringing over a reading lamp.

For the next stretch of time the doctor did doctor things. She injected what I assumed was a local anesthetic then set about sewing several layers of tiny, precise stitches, working from both sides of Lilah's hand. When she finished there was a line of ugly black thread on both Lilah's palm and the back of her hand. She rewrapped the hand in gauze, this time including the thumb as well to hold it against the edge of the palm, then rummaged in her bag for a splint which she used to immobilize fingers, hand, and wrist.

Doctor Morton stood and put a hand to her back briefly. She still looked angry. "Your patient is incredibly lucky. She should regain full function, or mostly, though there might be some numbness. You have to keep that hand still. I'll give you a prescription for antibiotics, both syrup and topical, and some painkillers. Change the inner dressing every day, keep it dry, call me immediately if there's redness or any sign of infection. If there is and I have to come back, tell our little whore that she'll owe me more freebies. Otherwise I'll check this in a couple of weeks and we'll see where we are."

And with that Doctor Morton picked up her bag, spun on her heel and stomped off, making my "Thank you, Doctor," chase her down the stairs. In a moment the back door opened and closed firmly.

I took a deep breath and realized Renee had come up to stand next to me. I had completely forgotten she was in the room. Her hazel eyes were big in her round face. I hugged her hard to my side and turned my head to bury my nose in her hair. I about jumped out of my skin when "Ith it thafe?" came from beneath the sheet. Then Lilah sat up, uncovering her bare body as the sheet fell to her waist. "I didn't want the monthter to cut off my hand," she said, examining the doctor's work.

"Oh, sweetie, that wasn't a monster, it was the doctor, she was fixing you,"

Lilah was absorbed in examining the bandaged splint, turning it this way and that. "Is it a robot hand? Am I going to turn into a robot? Will I be all metal?" A new thought seemed to strike her. "Can I shoot fire?" She pointed the hand at the wall and made "pew-pew" sounds.

I realized detailed explanations were pointless. "Does it hurt?" I asked.

Lilah thought about it for a moment. "Yeth. It would hurt a lot if I let it."

I grinned. "Then I'll make it feel better!" I whipped the sheet off the naked little girl, grabbed her skinny ankles, pulled her down the bed and spread her legs wide. I dropped to my knees and pressed my face against Lilah's tight, smooth little slit. She murmured as I dug my tongue into the tiny teardrop opening at the bottom of her swollen vulva, now mottled with black and purple bruising. I gathered a few drops of her delicious preteen essence, then pushed my tongue between her punctured labia and swept upwards. I paused to examine the tiny child's mutilated clitoris. The hood was cut open in a centimeter-long slit. The wrinkled skin had folded back like curtains, exposing the bulb of the clit itself. She stiffened and grunted as I blew lightly across it and the tiny finger of nerve-dense flesh pulsed slightly. Then I sucked it hard into my mouth and the little girl bucked and shouted as an orgasm swept over her. I felt a squirt of hot urine on my chin as Lilah let out a bubbling moan, drool running from the corners of her mouth. Her bare feet came up and pressed against my shoulders and her legs trembled violently. I focused on one tattooed shin, where a rat skeleton was depicted biting into a huge disgusting pustule. As Lilah's orgasmic tremors receded I sucked again at her exposed clit and was rewarded with her delicious flavor and sweet aroma, another saliva-choked moan and full-body shivers.

It was hard to know if I was wringing pleasure from Lilah's prepubescent body or tormenting her, or if there was even any difference to her altered sensorium, but it was still a ton of fun. I kept it up for another ten-fifteen minutes, bringing the child to the brink of total exhaustion. Tears were leaking from her uncanny solid blue eyes and the bedspread was dark with her fluids including urine - oh well, it was laundry day anyway - and her moans had diminished to exhausted, whistling sighs, her shivers to random twitches of her limbs. But when I straightened up and wiped my mouth, she drew in a deep breath and, with all the feeble energy left in her nine-year-old body, whispered "Again!" But then she passed out.

I had gotten a little wrapped up in my fun and it was only then I realized I had an audience. Not Renee, she couldn't be less interested in sex that didn't involve her (with the exception of her oddly specific preference for gay cowboy porn). She had produced a book from somewhere and was sitting sideways in the armchair reading. But the girl was awake, and was looking at me with horrified fascination, the way she might a dangerous viper that hadn't noticed her yet and might not if she just kept very still.

I wiped my mouth again and put on what I hoped was a friendly smile. "Did you sleep well?" Of course she didn't, idiot, she just saw her brother murdered. I tried again. "I still don't know your name," and I gave her mine.

I thought she wasn't going to answer but after a few seconds she said, in a tiny voice, "Cindy."

"OK, Cindy, I'm pleased to meet you." I didn't try to shake hands. "You know Lilah, and this is Renee. Renee, Cindy was very brave last night. Something very bad happened. A bunch of bad men shot a lot of people. Lilah stopped them, I think - " I looked at Cindy, who nodded, her eyes filling. "But she got hurt, and Cindy helped her get home."

Renee had put her book down and as I spoke she was examining Cindy with the flat, unemotional expression that meant she was thinking hard. Then she smiled, and I could see it was a deliberate choice. "Hi Cindy, I'm Renee. I hope we'll be friends."

"While you were sleeping we had a doctor help Lilah. She's going to be fine, see?" I pointed at the splint on her left hand. Cindy nodded fractionally. "You must be awfully uncomfortable. Renee, why don't you take Cindy into the bathroom and help her get cleaned up?" I looked directly in Cindy's eyes as I said, "I'll just stay here and rest." See, little girl? You're perfectly safe here. I definitely haven't fucked every underage child to ever enter this house, no sirree.

Renee, smart little girl, was good at picking up on my cues. She bounced to her feet and with a smile that only looked a little manic, took Cindy's hand and said, "That sounds like fun! C'mon, wait 'til you see the shower!" Cindy allowed herself to be pulled to her feet, unenthusiastic but unresisting. She was about half a head shorter than Renee.

Renee shepherded the girl into the bathroom. She left the door partially open so I could hear and see them but I was out of Cindy's eyeline. "Let's wash your face," Renee said, and I heard the water running in the sink. "Omigosh, is that blood? Are you ok? Did you get cut?"

"No," Cindy said slowly. "It...it's my brother's. He got shot and...and...he's dead." And she was sobbing again. And Renee, who was really not much of a hugger, pulled Cindy into a fierce embrace. In that moment I was so proud of her. Cindy's arms went around Renee and she buried her face in Renee's shoulder. Renee was nonplussed and stood there, sort of awkwardly patting Cindy's back, until she got control of herself and stepped back, scrubbing a dirty hand across her face. Renee kept her face neutral as she soaped up a washcloth and gently started washing the dried blood off Cindy's face.

Clearly embarrassed at being treated like a baby by someone close to her own age, Cindy took over. Soon her face was clean. Renee turned off the water in the sink and said quietly, "I don't want to be mean, but you smell pretty bad. You can get clean all over. Look at the shower - it's amazing!" She pointed at the jets in the wall. "You can get water shooting at you from all directions, it's fun!"

Cindy stepped back and shook her head. "No, I...it's ok, I'll be fine."

Renee looked at her quizzically. "Don't you want to get clean? You don't have to be embarrassed. I know! I'll take a shower with you!" And so saying, she hiked up her dress and pulled down her tights, stepping on them to pull each foot free in turn. Then in a single move she pulled her dress up over her head and off, leaving her standing in just her sports bra and panties. And, uh, something else.

"WOW!" Cindy shouted. "YOU HAVE A PENIS!" Renee looked down at herself. Sure enough, her latex strapon stuck out the left leghole of her flowered cotton panties and lay against her thigh. "It's so big!" Cindy said with wonder. Then, looking more closely, "Is...is it real?"

Renee was completely matter-of-fact. "It's really my penis, but it's not part of my body. I wear it. It's rubber. Here, feel," and she stepped close to the other girl and took her dirty hand and placed it on the shaft.

"But...but...why?" Cindy asked, clearly confused. "Do you want to be a boy? I mean," she hastily corrected herself, "ARE you a boy?"

"No, silly, I'm a girl just like you. I...I just like having a penis. Sometimes I fu…I have sex with it. Sometimes I have sex with my cu…my vagina. It just depends on how I feel."

"You...you have sex?" Cindy sounded aghast. "But...how old are you?"

"Eleven."

"Isn't that way too young?" Renee shrugged. "Who do you do it with?"

"Him," Renee pointed into the bedroom. "We're lovers," she said with something approaching pride. "But other boys, too." One corner of her mouth quirked up and her hazel eyes danced. "They say I suck a mean dick." I would have to ask her later exactly who said that. Her tone turned impatient. "Now let's get in the shower." She pulled off her sports bra and shimmied out of her panties and stepped into the shower stall, turned, and waited for Cindy to follow. Her strap on bobbed up and down as she shifted from foot to foot.

Cindy seemed to reach a decision. She shucked off her coat and dropped it on the tile floor. A threadbare sweater followed, then an undershirt. She toed off her worn sneakers and pulled down a pair of very crusty jeans. She was down to a pair of panties that were gray with dirt. Her back was to me as she hesitated and then, before she could change her mind, pulled them down.

"WOW!" it was Renee's turn to yell. "You have a penis too!" She stepped close and before Cindy could move, wrapped her hand around it. "It's real!" she exclaimed. "But...you're a girl." She sounded so puzzled I almost laughed.

I stepped into the bathroom. Cindy gasped and clapped her hands over her crotch. I put a hand on Renee's bare shoulder. "She's trans, Renee. She's a girl, but she was born with a boy's body."

"Ooooh." Light dawned. "I saw that on YouTube. Why are some grownups so mad about kids being trans?"

"I wish I could tell you," I said honestly. "Is that why you and your brother were living on the street?" I asked Cindy.

"My daddy," she started. "My daddy," she said again, her chin quivering, "He got so mad when I told him I was a girl. He hit me, not like a spanking but with his fists." Tears ran down her cheeks and she fought to keep her voice steady. "He said, he said either I was a boy or I could get out. And, and Charlie stood up for me, he could've stayed but he said if I was leaving so was he, but Daddy just said fine, we could both go. That was right before school started."

"Oh, sweetie," I said, and gathered her into a hug. She hugged back for a second but then realized she was naked and hugging a grownup she barely knew and squirmed away. I let her go, and took my first good look at her. She was still prepubescent, her chest flat and her nipples tiny. Her circumcised penis was just a bud sitting atop a tight, pale scrotum. "Well. You girls" - I gave the word a little emphasis - "You girls have your shower. Cindy, I'm going to put your clothes in the wash and hope they don't just fall apart. You can wear one of my tshirts. Get clean, and then we'll figure out what to do next." I left the two naked tweens in the bathroom and went downstairs to start laundry and brew some more coffee. Only mid morning and it had already been a long fucking day.

I was back upstairs with a fresh cup of coffee in time to watch the two girls in the shower. Renee had set the dual showerheads to a gentle rainfall and the side jets to a mist. I didn't make any pretense about enjoying the sight of water streaming down their naked, soapy bodies, just leaned against the vanity and drank my coffee while I watched. Renee had remembered to put her hair under a shower cap, good girl, couldn't have her going home with wet hair. She was currently helping Cindy work through the mess of tangles her own hair had become. The contrast between the two was delicious. Renee was developing while Cindy was still completely immature. Renee's breasts jiggled as she worked and her ass was also plumping up nicely though she really had no hip flare yet. Cindy by contrast was still straight up-and-down, skin tight over a completely flat chest, her nipples just little pips in the center of pink, dime-sized areolae.

And now we had apparently reached the grab-the-penis part of the program. Laughing, each was trying to touch the other's tool while keeping her own out of reach. Cindy got her hand on Renee's strapon near the root and waggled it back and forth, giggling as she made "boing-boing" noises. Her laughter stopped, however, when Renee got her back. "Hey, it's warm!" Renee exclaimed. She stepped closer, backing Cindy up against the wall of the stall so she couldn't get away. My little niece knew what to do with a penis, even a small one like this. She started skimming her fingers up and down the shaft, squeezing now harder, now less, and was quickly rewarded with a nice little stiffy, maybe 3 inches in length. Cindy's eyes were big and round. She didn't look unhappy, exactly, more confused.

Renee was not confused. She knew exactly what she was doing. The eleven-year-old dropped to her knees and set about demonstrating that she did indeed suck a mean dick. She pursed her lips and took the whole shaft in her mouth down to the root, backed off slowly until she felt the collar on her lips and then plunged back down. She did that several times, then while she had Cindy fully engulfed, slid her tongue out and licked the tight scrotum. Then with her thumb and two fingers gently jacking it she licked all around the head, nibbling at it gently in between sucking it back between her lips. I was rubbing myself through my sweatpants now, fully stiff and reveling in the sense memory of my little lover doing exactly the same things to me. The sounds of her slurping and smacking her lips were audible over the water.

This was all new to Cindy, though, and it didn't take long. Renee had her lips at the root of Cindy's little boner again when the trans girl's mouth opened in a silent "O", her arms came up and her hands clawed the air for a few seconds, and then her knees buckled and she slid down the wall, coming to rest with her butt on the tile and her legs spread straight out. Renee sat down next to her and put an arm companionably around her shoulder while continuing to massage the still-stiff little erection. "Nice, isn't it?" she said, and all Cindy could manage was a gulp and a shaky nod. Renee sat with her until Cindy had her breathing under control and then she helped the trans girl to her feet and together they started working conditioner through her hair. I left the bathroom before I did something I might regret later. I hoped to win Cindy's trust and interrupting her moment to shove my cock in Renee's mouth probably wasn't the best approach.