Note from Piper: There is a childbirth scene in this chapter.
Meg stiffened as her latest contraction hit, her arms and legs straining against the padded restraints holding her hands and feet firmly in place and allowing her to do little more than flex her fingers and toes as yet another tidal wave of agony washed through her tiny body. Of course, she was more than able to voice said agony by scrunching up her face, ducking her chin down to her collarbone, and shrieking like a wounded animal. From my position at the base of the birthing bed I could do nothing but feel bad as her piercing, trembling yowl of pain lanced straight into my brain. I looked at the tiny slit nestled between her legs but saw nothing but more of the thin dribble of ick! oozing out, and gnawed at my lip for a moment as I tried to think of something that I could do to ease her suffering, and failed miserably. “She’s in a lot of pain,” I remarked tightly into the handset of the radio, “and I don’t see anything yet.”
It took less than three seconds for the shortwave to crackle with a reply, but it felt like hours. “I know she is,” the sympathetic-sounding voice on the other end replied neutrally. “Not a lot you can do, given what you’ve got…”
“Yeah.” My single-word reply was simply all I could say. Why the Hell didn’t I major in medicine in college? I asked myself for the thousandth time as I ground my teeth in frustration. I stroked the inside of the redhead’s sweat-slicked thigh gently and peered up past her swollen belly to her flushed face and tried to give the little girl a kind smile. “It’s almost over, sweetie,” I said in a calm tone that I certainly didn’t actually feel. “You’re doing great, you’re amazing.”
“It hurts, Mikey!” she hissed as the contraction finally passed and she let her head slump back. I saw one slim shoulder flex as she momentarily forgot her bound state and tried to raise an arm to wipe away the sweat pouring down her face, and quickly I stood, leaned over her restrained body, and did the job for her. “It hurts,” she babbled in a hopeless voice, “I can’t do it, I can’t…”
“Sure you can,” I replied with a gentle smile as I stroked the side of her face for a moment before I gave her a quick kiss on the forehead and resumed my position kneeling at the foot of the bed. “It’s almost over, and then we’ll be able to say hello to our baby. You’re really excited about that, remember?”
“It hurts,” she whimpered as she seemed to wilt before me. “It hurts so much…”
The make-shift maternity ward I had set up in the master bedroom of apartment 2101 was lit with as many lamps as I could reasonable fit into the place to chase every possible shadow away, but on the down side it did raise the temperature in the place to the point that I was bathed in sweat, and I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand as I leaned in. I was a bit proud that I didn’t flinch as another contraction hit the tiny redhead and she shrieked at a volume that I swear was going to rupture one of my eardrums. It had taken some trial and error over the past month – I learned that the girls were really afraid of what was to come and tended to freak out a bit when they heard just how painful childbirth actually was (a lesson I learned with Lam two weeks ago), and so I used the apartment at the other end of the floor to put easily half a dozen thick walls between them and their terrors. It had only taken me a single afternoon to clear out the former inhabitant’s possessions and replace it with a birthing bed and over a dozen lamps with our precious light bulbs, and voila! Instant maternity ward.
Of course, to be honest it sometimes reminded me more of a bondage dungeon than anything else. The birthing bed that I had scavenged from a relatively intact medical center a few towns over had a short seat, a high back, and foot stirrups just like every other one, and currently my pre-teen lover was situated squarely on the thing in preparation of the big event. I had been forced to jury-rig some modifications of course… Her wrists were held fast to the sides with a pair of hospital-grade restraints (another lesson I learned during Lam’s time in the bed, where I had to both usher our daughter into the world and hold down her flailing arms at the same time) while her ankles were tied to the stirrups by a couple of Velcro bondage cuffs (a modification I deemed very necessary when Lillian had almost knocked out one of my teeth with a kick to the jaw during her time a week ago). It was sort-of perverted I have to admit, but it was one I deemed necessary in this modern world. Sometimes you just did what you had to do in order to get things done.
The worst part about their impending motherhood that I learned that my little girls were literally that – innocent, naïve pre-teen girls who writhed in pain and sobbed in agony as they gave birth to their children with me, and who deep down only partially understood the sheer level of responsibilities our nasty naked playtimes had foisted upon them. Lam was the first, and after what seemed like a labor period that lasted about twenty-four hours she had delivered our daughter Lien, an exotic little darling who possessed my cheekbones and chin and her mother’s beautiful almond-shaped eyes and delicious dusky skin. Ten days later it was Lilly’s turn, and after a period that was much shorter but much more intensely painful she brought tiny little Melody into the world, a adorable thing with a tiny little dusting of jet-black hair on her scalp and my own brilliant blue orbs. Two daughters, by two different little girls, and with another five children by five others on the way… and it was a testimony to both myself and the new normal through which we were living that I still found it more than a little weird. I was just glad that I spent the past three months reading baby books so that I could teach them what they needed to know to care for their sudden presents. It was all that I could really do…
I glared at the handset to the shortwave in my hand, a tiny part of me hoping that Doc Feldman could sense my annoyance and knowing deep down that he couldn’t and that he was only trying to help, and then thumbed the button as I resumed stroking Meg’s inner thigh with the fingers of my other hand. “Yeah, I don’t have the skills to apply an epidural,” I groused in reply as another of Meg’s shrieks lanced through my eardrums and straight into my brain like a knife. “You’re doing fine, sweetie,” I said as I turned my attention back to the redhead and gave what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “You’re being a brave girl, you’re beautiful, and I love you,” I added in the hope that maybe this time she might actually believe me.
It wasn’t a total lie, but I believe that in that moment honesty wasn’t exactly my friend. As the contraction passed and Meg slumped down in the chair I could see that her labor was taking a rather severe toll on her pre-teen form. Sweat poured freely from every pore in her body, her long red hair was a snarled, slimy, matted mess that held so many tangles that I wondered how the Hell we were going to work them out, and her entire face was a flushed, twisted mask of pain… but still she managed to smile a weak, sickly smile down at me where I knelt between her splayed-wide legs. “Hurts, Mikey,” she whimpered in a voice thick with misery. “But I’m a big girl, I wanna do this!”
“Yes you are,” I replied as I plastered a bright smile on my face even as a feel a tug in my heart. The old Meg – the hard bitten, gung-ho Marine who threw everything uncomfortable and uncertain off with a snarky smile and a wise-ass comment – had been gone for so long that I wasn’t even sure if she had really existed. Oh sweetheart, where did you go… “You’re a big girl and I love you so much, I know you can do it!” As the redhead flashed me a sickly smile and preened just a little bit I turned my attention back down between her legs. “’K,” I said as I thumbed the microphone of the radio, “that last one lasted about a minute, and they’re down to just under every three minutes. Is it time?” I asked in a tight voice.
“Yup,” he replied with a tinge of amusement, “it’s time. Tell her to start.”
“Copy.” I dropped the handset and peered up past the redhead’s nude, restrained body to meet her eyes. “Meg, sweetie,” I said in a calm voice that I certainly didn’t feel, “I need you to push. The next time it starts to hurt in your tummy, I need you to try to push the pain down and out.”
“Push like I’m pooping?” she asked, he eyes filled with a combination of terror and hopeful need.
Oh, Meg… “Yes, sweetie,” I replied, “just like that. You ready?”
She didn’t look ready… The fear in her eyes, the tension in her face and body, the way she verbally clung to me all told me she wasn’t ready. But this twisted, fucked-up world usually didn’t usually give us the luxury of time to prepare and we had to adapt in order to survive, and though she might not have been set for the task she had to undertake my tiny little redheaded lover smiled a tight smile and nodded anyway, desperate to please me, desperate to get it over with…
She was desperate to complete what she had been dreaming of doing for nine months. She was desperate to give me a child.
Another intense wave of pain tore through her body and without hesitation she screamed in agony, a long, high-pitched falsetto of misery that lanced into my ears like a needle as her entire body tensed and she strained against her restraints… but still she remembered, and somehow managed to bear down. As with both Lam and Lilly it happened so quickly that I had to almost scramble to keep up – her hairless, pre-teen pussy stretched out unbelievably wide and it looked like she was blowing a flesh-colored bubble. I got my hands into place, pushed the grossness I felt deep down as another dribble of ick! spattered into my palms, and tried to made noises of encouragement. She pushed, and I murmured, and even more vile things spewed forth…
And then, in what felt like a single heartbeat, a single millisecond, I was holding my brand-new daughter in my hands.
“Oh, oh, oh…” As Meg slumped back in the birthing chair and gasped and panted and whimpered weakly, I peered down at the tiny little bundle before me with almost awed wonder. She was a miniscule thing, barely over a foot long and so light that I thought I could literally hold her in the palm of one hand, an adorable little beauty with a shock of stringy brilliant red hair smeared across her skull. The newborn blinked in the brilliantly lit room and suddenly I was peering into eyes of the deepest emerald green, and as she moved her pudgy arms and legs I could swear that she smiled up at me. “Hello, beautiful,” I whispered as I sank back onto my heels and fell in love yet again, for the third time in a month.
“I wanna see!” Meg exclaimed in a weak, exhausted voice. Slowly, very carefully, I managed to stand without using my hands, my gaze not leaving my baby girl for even an instant. I felt an ache in my jaw and realized that I was smiling like an idiot, feeling a happiness that was in short supply during those days. Reluctantly and without another word I leaned forward between Meg’s splayed legs and slowly, carefully held our new daughter forth. The Marine lifted her head slightly, her eyes widening in amazement as she peered down with a wide, astonished, adoring gaze. “Mikey,” she whispered, “we have a baby girl!”
“We do,” I agreed in a somewhat dopey tone. I leaned in, careful not to squish our girl between us, and gave Meg a light, living kiss on her sweaty forehead, and then had to pause for a second as she darted her face up and planted a deep, passionate, tongue-filled kiss of her own on my lips. “You did amazing,” I managed to gasp when she allowed me to surface for air. “I know it hurt so much but you did it, ‘n I’m so proud of you!”
“Th… thank you,” she stammered. She might have blushed – her face was still flushed with the effort of delivery, so I wasn’t too sure – but from the way she ducked her face down I thought it likely. “I’m just happy that I could give you a girl.”
“You didn’t give me anything,” I corrected gently. Carefully laying our daughter on her flat, eight-year-old chest I pulled the Velcro straps securing her wrists free and helped her cradle the infant. “We made her together,” I added as I gazed at her and she gazed down at our newborn. “She’s from our love! So,” I continued as I changed the subject away from the intimate, emotional moment to address a topic much more practical, “what do you want to name her?”
The redhead was quiet for a moment as she thought. “Daisy,” she finally replied. She raised her face to mine and I almost felt the heat of the love in her eyes burn my skin. “It’s cute, ‘n it’s pretty like the flower,” she explained in a matter-of-fact tone. She returned her gaze back down to the lightly squirming baby and smiled a warm bright smile of motherly affection. “Hello, Daisy Mikey,” she whispered softly.
I couldn’t help but chuckle in amusement. “My last name is Doyle, remember?” I reminded her as I stroked her sweat-slicked shoulder. “We had this discussion back when we were talking about names after we get married.” If we ever got married…
Meg blushed and ducked her head for an instant in embarrassment. “Sorry, if forgot,” she said in a somewhat vacuous tone. “So, she’d be Daisy Doyle? Is that a pretty name?”
“Yes,” I replied. “It’s a pretty name for a pretty baby. Who is,” I add as I slid my hand up and stroked the side of the redhead’s face with a light touch, “is just as pretty as her mommy.”
She raised her gaze back to me once more and this time I was sure she blushed happily. We didn’t need to share another word as she brought her face up and let her eyes flutter shut, and I leaned down again to resume our deep, passionate kiss of pure love. The tiny little infant between us added her approving gurgle to our kiss, and that made it all the better.
It was so beautiful that I barely registered Doc Feldman’s voice, squawking from the speaker of the short wave as he asked what was happening.
“We’re back,” I called out as I carefully maneuvered the child-sized wheelchair through the door and stepped in after. The din that greeted me as I pushed the door shut behind me with my heel made me feel conflicted – I was glad that everyone was still apparently among the living, but after the eventful day I’d just had I so longed for just a little more peace and quiet.
After snuggling for a few more minutes I let an obviously exhausted Meg doze for a couple of hours while I did the new father and amateur neo-natal nurse thing – giving Daisy her first bath, giving her the once-over to make sure that she was happy and healthy and had all ten fingers and toes, and carefully wrapping her in the soft pink baby blanket from our supply. And then I just sat in the comfy chair that I had gotten from somewhere and just gazed down at my little lovely. “That’s three,” I whispered softly in a voice barely above silent. Daisy murmured and squirmed a bit so I jiggled her lightly, and she settled back down with an adorable little coo of contentment. Three daughters, I’ve got three daughters now, I acknowledged, somewhat stunned into numbness with the sheer incongruity of it all. Three, with another four on the way. Probably. None of us guys could explain it and Doc was at a loss, but for some reason all of the children born after the Event had been girls. So far, I amended. It was an issue, sure, but considering that we had far more pressing matters with which to deal we pushed the problem of continuing the species onto the back burner.
Burn that bridge, I thought for a moment before Meg murmured in her sleep and I banished all such thoughts from my brain. Levering myself out of the chair I cradled Daisy in my left arm while I grabbed another blanket to cover the shivering redhead. As with both Lam and Lilly the Marine had been transformed just a bit by her pregnancy – her once-flat tummy was rather pudgy and she had developed what we called her ‘big-girl boobs,’ if you could actually call them that. Somewhere around their sixth month of pregnancy each of the girls developed tiny little swells behind their nipples, basically little more than lumps that resembled buds more than anything else. Based on my experience with Lam I knew it was likely that her transformed body’s incredibly healing powers would return her to fighting shape within just a couple of weeks, but as to whether her chest swells would ever vanish was something that no one seemed to know. All that I did know was that, in that moment, Meg was likely one of the most beautiful creatures I had ever seen.
“Eruhm… Mikey?” she asked sleepily as I draped the blanket over her nude form.
“Hello my love,” I replied in a soft, gentle tone. Carefully I placed Daisy on her chest, leaned over, and graced the redhead with a loving kiss. Meg responded almost automatically, raising her face to mine and kissing me back with a lot more heat and passion as she murmured happily. “You’re a mommy now,” I noted with a smile when she finally allowed me to come up for air.
“I’m a mommy,” she admitted in a dreamy tone with an almost dopey look on her face. She tore her green eyes from mine and looked down at the infant on her chest, and then returned her gaze back to me. “Mikey, she’s beautiful,” she whispered.
“She is,” I agreed as I stroked her cheek and she preened.
“I want another,” she blurted without hesitation. “I wanna give Daisy a sister!”
I couldn’t help but chuckle in amusement. Both Lam and Lilly expressed the same attitude just hours after they gave birth, evidently forgetting the misery of their pregnancies and the agonies of delivery as they expressed a desire to do it all over again. “Soon, sweetheart,” I said. “But I think first you need to take care of Daisy for a bit.”
“’N’kay,” she agreed with a little nod. “But not too long, ‘cause I want you to put another baby in my tummy real soon!”
After making out for another few minutes I got us moving. There wasn’t much more that needed to be done - I placed Daisy gently in the nearby bassinet for safe, easy transport, helped Meg sit up in the birthing chair, and then took a few minutes to rub some circulation back into her arms and legs. She wiped herself down with a damp cloth as I trundled about getting ready, and then she stood still – and tried to hide the look of annoyance on her face – as I had her lift her arms and slipped the long purple sleeping tee with a flying pony backed by a colorful rainbow over her abused body. Because her legs were so wobbly and due to the physical effort she had just undergone while giving birth I insisted she sit in the child-sized wheelchair that I had scrounged from the same medical center as the bed, placed Daisy in her arms, and we left our make-shift neo-natal ward and rolled down the hall to apartment 2103 of the Sutton Mills Condominiums… otherwise known as home.
“Mikey, you’re back!” The second that the door latched behind me I was suddenly assailed by a blonde dervish as Rachel threw herself onto me, heedless of the way my Nirvana tee shirt rode up her bulging tummy and exposed her pink panties as she leapt. My little blonde lover acted as if I had been gone for years and I could feel her trying to squeeze the life out of me as she wrapped her arms around my waist. “I missed you so much!” she exclaimed as she pressed her very pregnant belly against my thighs and buried her face in my chest.
“I was only gone for a few hours, sweetie,” I chuckled as I patted her back. I half-leaned down and gave her a deep, loving kiss that tore a tiny squirm of happiness from her pre-teen body, and then gave her a gentle little pat on the backside which I suspected she enjoyed even more. “I had to help Meg bring our baby into the world.”
That reminded the ditzy pigtailed blonde of where I had been, and instantly I was forgotten as she turned to the contented redhead in the chair next to her. “Cool! Is that her?” she asked as she leaned over, using her hands on the armrest to keep herself upright as her pregnant tummy knocked her off balance.
“Uh huh,” Meg replied with more than a hint of pride in her voice. “Her name is Daisy Doyle. Mikey ‘n I made her together!” she added as she graced the bubbly blonde with a smile that bordered on the beatific.
“That’s so cool!” Rachel glanced at me out of the corner of her eye for a second, blushed, and then peered back down at Daisy. “I hope that I have my baby soon, so we can be sisters!”
“You already are sisters,” I corrected gently as I slipped past the pair, giving Rachel another tiny little pat on the bottom as I moved. The sound of squabbling from the kitchen had attracted my attention, and given the newcomer to our family I thought it best to nip any conflict in the bud before it got out of hand. “What’s going on in here?” I asked in a calm tone as I leaned into the archway.
Before me was a tableau that I had seen many, many times over the past couple of months. Paisley was standing tall in the center of the kitchen, her dark hair pulled back into a somewhat messy ponytail and a stern look on her face that was only slightly marred by the bright pink apron that hung almost down to her ankles and informed me that she was a TOTAL DIVA!!! in bright red lettering that she had thrown over the tent-like flower-print dress that she loved wearing. Arrayed against her were Millie in an oversized tee shirt and jet-black pigtails that hung over her shoulders, while next to her and a half-step behind was Nadia whose black hair cried out in desperation for a good brushing and who wore nothing but a pair of boxer briefs around her narrow hips that were bunched in the front because of her condition. I stifled a sigh and tried not to scowl as I prepared for yet another episode of the long-running series entitled Mikey-She’s-Being-A-Bitch!
“Mikey, you said that I was in charge,” Paisley quickly explained as she half-turned, set her jaw defiantly, and crossed her arms above her grossly swollen belly. “’N that as long as I didn’t use the stove then I could get everyone a snack if we got hungry while you ‘n Meg were gone…”
“My byli golodny,” Millie naturally whined simultaneously in an almost petulant tone as she pirouetted on one heel and swung her swollen belly in my direction, the hem of her tee – my Scorpions concert tee naturally, one that I had liberated from a trailer park down the road – fluttering around her thighs. “No Peysli skazal, chto my ne mogli imet’ lyuboye pechen’ye I popytalsya zastavit’ nas yest’ frukty, a ne…”
And of course Nadia couldn’t be left out of the fight. “Rekao sam da ste rekli bismo imali cookies,” she argued insistently as she turned her bulging tummy towards me. “Dokle god smo jeli sve naše ručkova I jesmo!” The rail-thin brunette looked almost as if she were going to cry as she flashed a resentful glare in Paisley’s direction. “Ali ta kučka je rekao da ne može imati bilo!”
All three of them were screeching at the same time, and this time I couldn’t help but sigh aloud as the pitch of their normally sweet little-girl sopranos threatened to climb up the octave range through falsetto and rapidly beyond to a sound that only dogs could hear, but I simply raised my hand and it was a testimony to our relationship that all three of them instantly fell silent. “Okay, Paisley I understand what you were saying,” I explained in a slow and patient tone. “Millie, use English, like we’ve been practicing.”
“Okay!” The sexy brunette furrowed her brow as she concentrated, and then finally found the words for which she was looking. “Hungry,” she declared as she waved a general hand over both she and Nadia. “Want… cookie. Will not let!” she concluded as she shot daggers at Paisley out of the corner of her eye.
“Pejsli je kao cunt!” Nadia snapped.
“Hey!” Paisley snapped right on back. “I know what you just called me! Mikey put me in charge!”
“Girls,” I said in a tired voice as I moved to forestall the coming international incident playing out before me. I pushed off the wall and took a step into the room, drawing myself up to my just-barely-above five-foot height (which naturally allowed me to tower above all three little girls like a redwood among shrubbery), crossed my arms, and stared down at the trio before me. “We have a new visitor. Meg’s back with her new baby…”
“Baby?!?” Millie blurted the word as she perked up, all thoughts of cookies and Paisley forgotten as she gasped and a bright smile crossed her face. “Baby!” she repeated as she grabbed a confused Nadia’s hand, darted around me, and dashed through the arch, dragging the stumbling skinny girl behind her as she moved.
“I was being good, Mikey,” Paisley said with a little pout as she hung back, looking like the frustrated eight-year-old that I suppose she was. “I was doing just what you said.”
“I know, sweetheart.” I glanced behind me to make sure we were relatively alone, and then took another step forward and knelt on one knee before her. “And I’m really proud of you, and grateful for all the help you’ve been to me.” I reached forth and took her left hand in both of mine, lifting it slightly and extending her digits to emphasize the ring I had placed on her finger several months ago. “That’s why you’re my wife, and they’re just my girlfriends.”
“We aren’t married yet,” she replied in an exasperated tone that was tempered by her happy smile. “I keep telling you we need to go to a church ‘n say that sorta stuff before a minister!”
“I know,” I quickly said as I returned her smile. “And as soon as we can find one, we will.” If there are any left, which there aren’t, at least none that won’t try to eat you… “But,” I continued as I grew a bit more serious, “remember, the girls are… Well, they are…” My train of thought stalled as I tried to figure out the best way to once again explain to a girl with the mentality of an eight-year-old that the other girls whom she had originally met while they acted and thought like adults had regressed until they acted, thought, were younger than she.
“They aren’t there,” she said in a somewhat sad voice. “Meg doesn’t curse anymore, ‘n Lam can’t use big words, ‘n everyone’s always acting all scaredy-cats all the time.”
“Exactly. And that’s why you have to be nice to them. It won’t hurt them to have a cookie… One cookie,” I was quick to emphasize, “if they’ve been good.” I faked a glance over my shoulder and leaned in – and naturally she leaned in as well, falling for my fake conspiratorial mien. “You are the big girl now,” I said truthfully. “You know I love you, and always will. That’s why I put this in there,” I added with a little grin as I stroked her pregnant belly. “But you have to be as kind to them as I am to you, because you’re the oldest one here. You have to be the one to be the mother. And that,” I concluded as I silently prayed she didn’t look too deeply into my grossly flawed logic, “means that you have to be nice sometimes too, and pretend you don’t see them being bad. Understand?”
“I unnerstand, Mikey.” Paisley nodded solemnly and made a little X across her chest. “Cross my heart ‘n hope to die,” she intoned.
“I hope not,” I replied with a smile. “I love you too much for that to happen.” I leaned in for a little kiss that, naturally, the pre-teen insisted on turning into an exploratory mission of my teeth with her tongue, and also naturally she almost whimpered in happiness and wriggled a little bit as I stroked her lower back with my fingertips. “Now then,” I continued in a louder voice, “don’t you want to go see Meg’s baby?”
“Uh huh!” A beautiful, innocent smile crossed her beaming face, and in a move so sudden that I had no time to react she wrapped her arms around my neck and gave me a deep hug. “I love you so much, Mister Mikey,” she whispered. “I’m glad that you found me, ‘n I’m glad I’m gonna be your wife!”
“I’m glad too, sweetheart.” I returned her hug, then pulled back, pointed the brunette towards the archway, and gave her the lightest little smacks across her flat, little-girl backside. “Now scoot!” As Paisley gave a little giggle and waddled out in the wake of Nadia and Millie I sighed and tried not to feel too miserable. We never talked about it, not in any great depth… but the innocent little brunette knew that something had happened to the other six girls, something bad. She did the best she could but it was a situation that was so totally out of her league that there was literally nothing she could do – so she overcompensated. I’ve got to find a way to let her be a little girl again, I decided as I stood back up and left the kitchen to rejoin the growing baby-party thing…
… only to have to take a tiny little jump backwards as Meg’s wheelchair raced past the archway, the squealing new mother propelled by the combined might of Millie and Rachel as they pushed her into the living room. “Slow down!” Paisley said in a frustrated tone as she waddled behind, followed closely by a somewhat slower but equally as uncoordinated Nadia. Once the quintet had passed I stepped through and leaned against the wall, taking half a second to enjoy the respite that Daisy had brought to my life by becoming the center of attention instead of me and ensuring that all I had to do was make sure nobody did anything stupid. I needn’t have worried… Rachel and Millie screeched to a stop well short of the couch and promptly whipped around the front of the redhead so that they could take a seat and coo over the infant, followed a split-second later by the other two who crowded in as well.
This proved to be a bit disconcerting for Lam and Lilly, both of whom had been trying to undertake their motherly duties on the other end of the couch and found the sudden chaos erupting next to them quite the distraction. Lam glanced over at Daisy as she nursed our daughter Lien and I could see her gaze dart between the two babies as she compared them in her mind for a few seconds, before evidently deciding that her daughter with me was obviously way prettier and returning her attention back down to the infant suckling at her pre-teen micro-breast with a tiny, dismissive sniff. Lilly, on the other hand, didn’t even try to hide the scowl from her face as she jiggled a suddenly fussy Melody and tried to reattach our daughter to her tiny pokey nipple. “We’re trying to feed our babies,” she hissed softly in a somewhat grumpy tone as she managed to get the black-haired newborn to suckle once more.
“Meg have baby!” Millie said excitedly.
“Really?” The obsessive Latina half-turned her head and used her free hand to flick her long, luscious black hair over one shoulder as she peered at Daisy with a dubious look. “She’s okay, I guess,” she added in a somewhat dismissive, oily tone as she turned her attention back down to Melody.
“She has red hair!” Rachel exclaimed excitedly. “Like, really red!”
“Well of course,” Paisley said in a slightly snotty, matter-of-fact tone. “Meg has red hair, so naturally Meg’s baby’s gonna have red hair.”
“Wow.” Rachel thought for a second as Millie and Nadia leaned in to coo at the baby and the former Marine beamed proudly. “I wonder if my baby’s gonna have blonde hair!”
“Yes,” Millie tossed over her shoulder.
“Huh?”
“You blonde,” the sexy little girl explained. “Maykl blonde. Makyl and you blonde, blonde detka.”
“Right,” Lilly agreed without even raising her chin from her chest. “But all of our babies are gonna be a mix of us and Mikey, right? So really, the babies are only going to be as pretty as their mothers.”
As the squabbling over which combination of girl egg and my sperm would make the cutest baby continued, I used the opportunity to try and settle my thoughts. Lately everything seemed to skitter off in all directions as I dealt with one issue after another, and opportunities to clear my head were few and far between. We were rapidly approaching a somewhat twisted anniversary – in just a little over six weeks or so, we’d officially reach the one-year mark since the EVENT. Ever since we had settled into the towers we had managed to survive, but once the girls had mentally faded away I was responsible not only for myself but for them as well. There were some days that my memories of my past life, of a world without cannibal rapists and abandoned cities and sexually promiscuous pre-teen girls was nothing but a fever dream, and sometimes I wondered if it had ever truly existed. I knew that it had… but the new normal was just so bizarre that I wondered how it could ever have.
In some ways things were good… no, strike that. Compared to the pathetic single life I was leading before, things were amazing! For almost fifty years I had pretty much been single and scraping by to make ends meet, but now I was living in a luxury condominium for free with a mini-harem of seven little girls who were determined to be the mothers of my children. All of my pre-teen charges had bonded to me fully, six of them regarding me as some weird combination of big brother, father, boyfriend, and lover without worry too much about anything else. Out of all of them Paisley was the exception to the rule, naturally – while she felt all those things she also just had to add a weird hybrid of fiancé/husband into the mix as she sported the ungodly expensive ring on her left hand that, pre-Event, had displayed a price tag over forty thousand dollars but only took me a crowbar and a power drill to actually obtain from a store in our mall one snowy afternoon just after the new year. The solar panels on the roofs of the Towers continued to work, and although I was undertaking a self-taught crash-course in electrical engineering using some books I had ‘checked out’ from a library at a nearby community college two towns over just in case they decided to crap out on us, they continued to soldier on, providing us with both heat and power. Our food stores were plentiful, our supplies were decent (except that for some reason I was constantly obsessing about our supply of light bulbs), and beyond the basic tasks of day-to-day living we didn’t have many responsibilities. It was a bit surreal, not having to try to earn a living or fight too hard for survival but happily things had been quiet, almost bordering on the dull at times.
And of course my sex life was simply spectacular. Because of their maternal conditions I didn’t have the opportunity to fuck the girls as much or as hard as I might have liked, but on the plus side my little lovelies got to explore some alternate fetishes that ratcheted up the kink level by a factor of at least ten. There was a two week period in March when all seven of them conspired independently (I think) to try anal at least once, and though most decided it wasn’t for them (especially Paisley, although she did say “I’ll do it in my butt all the time if you really want to, Mikey, ‘cause I love you,” as I carefully slid the head of my cock into her tight little pucker and she tried to keep a pained expression of discomfort off of her face), both Rachel and Nadia developed a slightly disturbing taste for it. Millie proved to be surprisingly adept at giving blowjobs which might have been a good thing considering the sheer size of her belly as our baby grew inside of her, and although she greatly preferred that I deposit my seed directly into her mouth she was also more than happy to take my load anywhere I decided to spurt it. (For some strange reason she really seemed to like it when I popped off in her hair, but, whatever, different strokes…) Evidently Meg’s deeply-held kink was in the neighborhood of bondage and submission if her penchant to bring along a pair of fur-lined handcuffs into my bed every so often was any indication, and I lost count of how many times the little redhead ended up with her wrists locked behind her back and a makeshift gag stifling her moans as I worked her clit with my fingers and tore orgasm after orgasm from her spasming little-girl pussy. Lam became a bit of an exhibitionist in both her distinct hatred of wearing clothes and her playtime with me, and a few times I had to try to keep the peace in the dining room among the other six while the tiny Asian girl blew me under the table and gave herself a Mike-flavored nutritional supplement to her supper – which usually meant that for the next three days the other six would also just have to do the same. Rachel usually misbehaved in the hopes of getting a nice hard spanking, Nadia would literally do anything I asked of her no matter how depraved, Lilly seemed to crave a firm slap or two across the face and some painful twisting of her little-girl nipples during our lovemaking… all in all we had become a perverted little band, and I satisfied more of my desires in that seven month period than I had in the entirety of my life before.
Of course my pre-teen sex kittens weren’t exactly good conversationalists, but fortunately I had the other guys out in the wilderness for that. For a couple of hours every Saturday night I would excuse myself from my darlings and spend some glorious time catching up with my counterparts, and if I had to be honest I would have to admit that our Midnight Howls kept me sane. Up in New York Donnie Ricketts tried to keep me apprised of the things that happened and were happening to his island and his harem. I was a hair behind him in the Great Baby Race (as we snarkingly called it) – all five of his girls had given him daughters and were existing in glorious motherhood even as he struggled to maintain their redoubt on Long Beach, a task that was becoming more and more difficult as the combination of severe weather over the winter and almost a year without any infrastructure maintenance were ensuring that things were breaking down faster than he could fix them. Out in the wilds of eastern Kentucky, Dickie Nixon regaled us with stories of his adventures in the wilderness while simultaneously giving us tips on how to hunt, trap, and fish (a couple of skills that were a literal godsend to city boys such as Donnie and myself) as well as giving us blow-by-blow accounts of the low-grade guerilla war that seemed to exist between his four girls that only seemed to reach a temporary détente when he had all four in his bed simultaneously. A few times we had a guest Howler named Luther who was just north of Atlanta, but we could never seem to get too much information out of him beyond the fact that he was riding herd on six different little lovelies and that he had the worst luck imaginable when it came to scrounging decent batteries for his radio… which explained his only occasional presence.
But by far our greatest source of much-needed knowledge – and simultaneously our biggest mystery – was Doctor Hershel Feldman. The good doctor simply appeared on the airwaves one snowy Saturday evening in March, breaking into a discussion between Donnie, Dickie, and I as to whether or not their physical changes and mental regression made our girls more likely to go down on us or not. “Hello!” his mid-range tenor called out cheerfully. “Am I reaching other guys who survived?”
The three of us fell silent for a couple of seconds before Donnie finally answered. “Ah… yeah. Who the fuck is this?”
“I’m Hershel Feldman,” he replied, totally ignoring Donnie’s suspicious tone. “You fellows surviving well out there?”
I heard a thump in the hallway and glanced over just in time to see the tips of a couple of blonde pigtails dart out of sight as Rachel tried to hide the fact that she was eavesdropping shamelessly on my ‘private time’ and turned back to the radio. “Doing okay here,” I replied, “considering.”
“Crap,” Dickie suddenly interrupted. “Gotta go. Layla just pushed Shayna down, ‘n she’s bleeding.”
“How bad is it?” Feldman quickly asked.
“Eh… Not too bad. I think.” I could hear the weariness in Dickie’s sigh even over the airwaves. “It’s not like I know for sure. I was a fuckin’ mechanic for big rigs, not a brain surgeon!”
“Here, describe it to me.” Over the next twenty minutes I listened as Feldman walked Dickie through the basics of triage, wound evaluation, and basic first aid. In that time I learned that he was a doctor of some kind, that he ‘worked for the government’ (and was very cagey about what he actually did, before), and was more than willing to be as patient as possible as he helped our Kentucky friend patch up his softly weeping little patient. Of course, since I wasn’t needed all that much I spent my time constructively disciplining my naughty little blonde spy with a firm (yet not too rough) spanking across her bare backside that brought tears to her eyes, tears that I managed to dry with a couple of little kisses and a bit of digital clit manipulation that got her so worked up that she apologized for spying like a bad girl and the promptly shuddered as she came, both happening within seconds of each other. Doc Feldman showed up the next week, and then the following, and before we knew it he had become our go-to guy for all things medical… and we still knew nothing personal about him, not the least of which was where he was hiding.
All in all, things weren’t too bad… again, considering. Of course, I would be a mistake to say that I was living the perfect life of a harem master, lounging in my luxurious kingdom and getting sexually serviced by seven prepubescent nymphomaniacs, each pregnant with my children. There were days when things were bad, ranging from the mildly annoying to the oh-my-GOD-I-have-to-deal-with-this-RIGHT-FUCKING-NOW issues that occasionally cropped up. As befitting their existence as cliquey pre-teen girls, my lovers naturally fought at times, loud arguments that forced me to intercede and calm things down. The two ringleaders seemed to be Rachel and Meg, who – for some reason that to this day I still couldn’t figure out – would sometimes just get into it with each other, yelling and screaming and (in at least one instance that would have been pretty hot, if it wasn’t so problematic for our family) yanking each others’ hair as both shrieked at the top of their lungs before I was able to separate them. As befitting my status as their favorite toy I had to be careful to spend roughly equal amounts of time with each girl on a daily basis even if we didn’t actually get naked, if for no other reason than to hopefully forestall the jealous spats that flared if one believed themselves to be getting less attention than the others. And they were so immature that sometimes it was all I could do not to snap at them… Meg was a prissy little princess who had to try to get everything her way, Rachel would avoid showers and baths like the plague unless I made damn sure she washed, and Lilly would throw a temper-tantrum unless I allowed her to put literally everything we owned into nice, neat, orderly little rows. I once caught Millie and Nadia scratching at each other as they shrieked in Russian or Serbian or some other Eastern European language, their words flying so thick and fast that I couldn’t even get the gist of their argument with my admittedly-basic language skills. And there were days when Lam clung to me like a lamprey, refusing to let me get further than a step away from her and whining if I even tried. Paisley tried to keep herself above all of it but even so I could tell that sometimes she too simply wanted to be bratty and immature and join in the bad behavior, but for now she managed to maintain her self-control.
All that was bad enough, but at least I learned how to handle seven hormonal, pregnant, and touchy pre-teen girls with emotional hair-triggers once I figured out how to deal with their personal and collective malfunctions through some slippery trial-and-error on my part, taking the time to navigate the very steep learning curve as I got to know the new, immature them. No, the things I truly worried about – the things that came to fill my mind in the dead of night, the things that woke me up in a cold sweat with my heart pounding in my chest as my eyes darted around the dark bedroom – were things that I was completely unable to fix. The girls were indeed functionally helpless, a lesson I learned on cold and gloomy March day when Rachel dropped a dishtowel on an open burner on the stove and almost set fire to the apartment, and I had to simultaneously play amateur fireman while dealing with seven terrified, screaming little girls (three of whom functionally spoke no English and were howling like banshees as they clung to me, to just add to the glorious experience). I hadn’t seen any Feral since a few wandered past the Towers in early December and we guys theorized that maybe they were all hibernating – but the memory of the pack that chased the girls and I through New Jersey way back in August was never far from my mind, and there were days where I counted and recounted the available bullets I kept stored in our ‘armory’ (well, Suite 2106, actually) and knew deep down that there wasn’t enough, that there would never be enough, if another pack found us. It felt like every time I stepped out of the apartment for any reason that I was taking a gamble, every time I dealt with the crisis du jour I wouldn’t be around when something worse would happen and one of my tiny little lovers would get hurt… or even more terrifying, killed.
There were days when I wished that the EVENT had never happened. There were days where I wished that the girls hadn’t faded away, that they were still adult women in little-girl bodies who could help shoulder some of the load. There were days where I… just… couldn’t… take another second of it, and I wished that I didn’t have to be the grown-up and do everything. I wished that I could find a way to keep the girls safe, to make them happy, to somehow set things up so that they would never want for anything and could just be safe and secure and warm.
I wished for things that would never again exist. Could never again exist.
I wished…
I sighed in satisfaction as I slouched a bit lower in the hot tub and let my eyes slide over my girls, keeping a proper eye on things as a good daddy/boyfriend/husband/lover/master should. They were all behaving properly this time – maybe it was Meg’s new status as a mother, or maybe it was the fact that there were now three infants blended into the mix which disrupted both the balance of power and the clique membership, or maybe it was because the last time they fought in the pool house I had been forced to threaten to rain the fires of Hell down upon them (which I wouldn’t actually do, but they didn’t know that). Whatever it was I was happy that, for at least a few minutes, I didn’t have to do anything more than make sure nobody argued and nobody drowned… and of course get an eyeful of mostly- or totally-naked pre-teen sexiness.
It was Saturday afternoon, and the day had started just as every other Saturday for the past six months – with most of the girls plunked down in front of the television with bowls of cereal, which were so sugary that it hurt my teeth the one time I tried it, in their laps and a cartoon DVD in the player. Naturally there was the usual war over which particular thing to watch… half the girls (led not-so-surprisingly by Meg, who used her desire to watch what she wanted to watch to actually overcome her shyness) wanted the half-hour episodes of the animated flying ponies learning about friendship, while the other half (led by a defiant and very insistent Lam, who used her halting English to take a point-of-no-return stand) wanted to turn her brain to mush with one of the feature-length movies where the ponies became high-school girls. With magic powers. Who were also colorful flying ponies at the same time. At least, I think that’s what it was about… frankly, the saccharine sweetness of the so-called entertainment made me slightly ill and I avoided watching it if at all possible. All I knew was that the brightly-colored animation kept six pairs of eyes glued to the screen and out of my hair while I did something far more important and enjoyable… namely, sexually satisfy Paisley. She was disappointed that she couldn’t ride me like a bucking bronco (a position she had come to truly adore) because of her WAY too pregnant belly, but half-laying on her side while I carefully slid into her from behind was good enough for government work, especially when I worked her sensitive, throbbing clit at the same time. My orgasm was huge, and her orgasm was truly titanic, and we spent the next hour cuddling and kissing and playing husband and wife while the sounds of animated screeches echoed down the hall.
After breakfast/cartoon/playtime came the chores, and I labored to herd six whiny, petulant, rules-lawyering little brats (“But Mikey,” Rachel had once asked, “why are we making the beds when we’re just gonna mess ‘em up again when you fuck one of us later?”) who really didn’t want to work. Paisley helped, and even though I knew that deep down she herself didn’t want to pick up clothes and clean toilets and scrub down the kitchen she sucked it up as self-appointed den mother to my brood and got the girls motivated. Then came lunch, and a few minutes of me evaluating our stores and doing the second of my five-times-per-day security sweep of the Towers and the environs, and then it was party time in the pool!
Our afternoons in the pool house provided a wonderful little weekly event in our otherwise routine lives, if for no other reason than it gave everyone – myself included – something with which to look forward. I would usually start getting things ready on Friday, adding a bit of chlorine from our dwindling supply to the pool and hot tub and generally neatening up in anticipation of our traditional end-of-the-week soak and splash. By the time the girls were wrapping up their chores they were practically buzzing with excitement… it was something different even if they had done it last week, but they knew that it was a field trip where they could leave the apartment and see something other than the walls in which we lived. Of course, the fact that usually one of my girlfriends took the opportunity to engage in some very public displays of affection for me didn’t hurt, either…
I glanced over at the baby pool – a six-by-twelve wader that was only about a foot deep and was usually as warm as a bath – and noted Meg, Lam, and Lilly sitting cross-legged and bare-butt naked in the bottom, talking quietly as they nursed our daughters. Well, Meg and Lilly were chatting while Lam tried to follow along as best as she could, her wide brown eyes darting from redhead to Latina and back again as she struggled to keep up with the strange (to her) language. I saw Lien squirm a bit in the Asian girl’s arms and felt a somewhat stupid grin flash across my face as the girl resettled the infant, making sure that her nipple was freely available for feeding before turning her attention back to the other two. Lilly said something quietly and I watched as Meg resettled Daisy on her nipple, and then the private conversation continued. I wasn’t exactly sure what they were talking about, but honestly there didn’t seem to be any problem beyond the stirring in my cock at the three sexy little girls sitting waist-deep and totally naked in the water so I turned my attention back to the hot tub.
Three more of my lovelies – Malinka, Nadia, and Paisley – sat on the edge of the tub opposite me, their feet dangling in the water as they gazed at me with varying levels of adoration in their eyes. If I had to be honest I would have to admit that out of the three pregnancy looked the best on Millie… the drop-dead gorgeous Russian girl’s hair was just a bit fuller, her cheeks had a rosy glow, and even though her tummy was swollen to the point that I could swear she was ready to literally explode she exuded this kind-of calm, sweet, maternal sexiness even dressed as she was in a pair of boy-shorts and a pointless, mismatched training bra that made it hard for me not wade over and fuck her brains out right there. Nadia, on the other hand, was the complete opposite – pregnancy had made her black hair a bit thicker, but it had also caused a field of pimples to sprout on her cheeks and jaw line and swelled her feet to a club-like size, and whereas Millie looked fuckably sexy as she gently stroked her puffy tummy Nadia looked like a straw that had somehow got a jawbreaker lodged in the middle as she lounged completely naked directly across from me. Paisley was somewhere in the middle, looking cute and adorable and very pregnant as she tugged down the oversized tee covering her body (a dirty one of mine, I couldn’t help but note) and flipped one misbehaving pigtail over her shoulder. She noticed my staring, blushed, and smiled shyly. “What?” she asked in her sweet little-girl voice.
“Nothing,” I replied with a gentle smile and a dismissive wave. “I’m just thinking that you are an incredibly beautiful young lady.”
My words had the desired effect, and the pigtailed brunette blushed so deep I thought she might pass out as she giggled and looked away. Millie glanced at her, glanced at me, and smiled a secret smile as she planted her palms on the tile behind her and half-leaned back, making sure to emphasize her pregnant belly as she raised one slim leg up out of the water and flirted with me. Of course, Nadia couldn’t be left out of the mix, but she thought she was at a disadvantage and thus overcompensated. Compared to the sweet Paisley and the sexy Millie, the rail-thin girl believed she was gruesome (no matter how much I tried to reassure her), so she did the only thing she thought she could – she lifted her heels out of the water and planted them on the edge of the tub, spreading her legs to show her pre-teen slit as she gave me a hopeful smile, implying that she was available to be fucked any time I so desired. “Nadia… filthy… whore?” she asked hopefully in her guttural, so-bad-it-was-almost-funny English.
“Yes, Nadia is a filthy whore,” I replied with a smile on my face and kindness in my eyes even as I gritted my teeth in frustration. God damn it… “Oh Rach, could you come over here a second?” I asked sweetly as I turned my head towards my little troublemaker.
“Uhm?” The tiny blonde subconsciously flipped her pigtails over her shoulder as she half-turned and peered at me, tearing her attention away from the bin of pool toys to regard me with wide, innocence-filled blue eyes. “Okay, Mikey,” she said with an agreeable nod, turned all the way, and walked – well, waddled, really – over to the hot tub. “I was just trying to find something neat…”
“Rachel Sarah Gillespie,” I said in a calm, measured tone, letting my use of her middle name let her know just how much trouble she was actually in, “what have I said?”
“What?” she blurted as she stiffened and a worried look crossed her face. “I didn’t do anything, I wasn’t gonna go in the pool, really, I’m being good…”
“Really?” I looked over at the skinny brunette and smiled. “Nadia whore?” I asked pleasantly.
“Da,” she replied with an almost hopeful look on her face. “Nadia… fucking… filthy… whore… who fucks!” she declared triumphantly as she spread her knees a bit further, pleased that she remembered the exact words taught to her by Rachel that she wanted to say.
I turned back to Rachel, who at least had the decency to look a little guilty. “I didn’t do it, really, I swear!” she said quickly as she took a half-step forward. “I remember what you said…”
“What have I told you about lying?” I asked sternly as I glowered up at her just a bit.
“Reychel v bede?” Nadia whispered to Millie.
“Rachel… trouble?” the sexy brunette softly asked Paisley.
“She’s in so much trouble,” Paisley murmured back, and to her credit she kept her face neutral even though her voice contained just a hint of glee.
“Y… you said that lying was bad,” the little blonde girl said, looking down at her feet as she squirmed in embarrassment and discomfort at being discovered. “’N if you caught me lying I have to be punished.” She glanced at Nadia out of the corner of her eye for a second and then fixed me with an almost desperate gaze. “I’m sorry, Mikey,” she whimpered as she twisted her hands so hard I could swear I could hear her joints pop quietly. “It was a joke, really, I thought it would be funny…”
“Rachel,” I began with a long-suffering tone in my voice. With a sigh I levered my nude body up off the seat of the hot tub and clambered up onto the concrete floor, towering over the tiny, pregnant blonde girl with a stern look on my face as I crossed my arms. “We’ve talked about this before. I’ve told you that I’m teaching Nadia, Lam, and Millie English…”
“I’m sorry, Mikey,” she interrupted in a tone that might have been contrite as she gently kicked the floor beneath her with one toe and stared at my dangling cock. “I was just trying to help…”
I glanced at Nadia, who smiled an innocent smile of pure invitation as she arched her back a little bit to thrust her essentially flat chest in my direction. “Nadia… fucking fuck… who is whore slut!” she remarked with a hint of pride in her voice as she gave me a look that told me she welcomed my attention.
“I don’t need that kind of help,” I grumbled.
“I’m sorry,” she repeated. The misbehaving blonde tore her gaze from my cock and slid it up in the general area of my face, peering up at me through her long eyelashes. “Do I need to get a spanking?” she asked in a little-girl voice that she knew got me hard.
I wanted to… oh, how I SO wanted to tear off her panties, turn her over my knee, and smack her bare, upturned backside until it glowed red and she was sniffling with tears! But that was not the time to indulge in either her fetish or my sexual desires, and even though I could swear that my cock twitched at her invitation I tamped down my urges and gave her a little glower. “Nice try,” I growled. Gently taking her by the arm I guided her a couple of steps away to one of the poolside chairs that, I have to admit, we used for little more than simply piling towels and our clothes upon. Pulling it a few feet closer with one foot, I turned Rachel and sat her down. “You are to sit here, young lady,” I lectured, digging deep to channel my long-deceased mother, “and think about what you’ve done. You are to keep your hands on the arms, and you are not allowed to leave unless I say so.”
“But Mikey…”
“No buts!” I stood firm in front of her, trying very hard to ignore the fact that her mouth looked very warm and wet and soft, and instead focusing on the fact that I had to maintain order in my little harem. “You have to sit here with your hands on the arms of the chair until I tell you that you can move. Got it?”
“Yes, Mikey.”
“Okay, then.” As soon as I made sure Rachel was properly in her time-out I turned back to the others. Maybe it was the fact that my little blonde troublemaker was being properly subservient, or maybe it was scent of the girls in the pool house, or maybe it was the fact that I was aware of seven sets of hungry eyes staring in unabashed lust at my stiffening cock… whatever the reason I was so ready to take out my lusts on one of the girls! I reluctantly dismissed the trio in the wading pool only because they had given birth recently and I wanted to give them a bit more time to recover physically, but that still left another three little lovelies eager to take my cock. Paisley smiled a bit but gave a tiny little shake of her head, our secret code that she could survive without my touch for a little longer (probably, I believed, because I had just carefully slid inside her tight little pussy and spurted my seed into her already-occupied womb just a few hours earlier), and Millie had benefited from my attentions last night…
So that just left Nadia. With an almost growl of barely-contained lust I stalked over to the painfully-skinny brunette who, for her part, managed to mostly hide the look of nervousness that flared in her soul. “Lay back, and spread your legs,” I ordered as I hopped down onto the flat concrete bench just under the surface of the roiling water. We had done this often enough so that she knew what I wanted even if she didn’t quite understand the words, and without hesitation she rolled onto her back and let her head rest on a rolled-up towel as she brought her knees up into the air and planted her heels on the smooth edge. The sight of the little girl laid out before me, all stick-thin arms and legs attached to the beach ball sized globe of her pregnant belly sent me even higher, and it was only the knowledge of her maternal condition that prevented me from falling upon her in an instant and taking what I wanted. Her slit was totally hairless, totally featureless except for the dark line squarely between her thighs, a tiny little thing looking no longer than an inch and far too small to actually take my throbbing cock.
“Da li je to, tata,” she whimpered as she carefully reached around her bulging stomach, planted her fingers on either side of her cunt, and pulled slightly, allowing her sex to part and giving me a perfect view of her slick, soft, glossy inner pink. “Mi ih mi, molim vas, treba mi!” she added as she raised her hips slightly, almost as if in offering to me.
“English!” I growled as I leaned over her, planting on palm against the rough surface of the concrete floor next to her head and meeting her sapphire gaze, her eyes so wide that it almost seemed as if her orbs would roll out of her skull.
“Daddy… fuck whore!” the little girl blurted, her words thickly accented as she raised her hips a little higher and grazed the tip of my cock with the soft, smooth flesh just beside her hole. “Rape… whore!” she begged, pleaded, invited me to do so. “Rape whore!” she insisted, her tone earnest and her desire plainly written on her face. “Rape whore! Rape whore!”
A small part of me wanted to correct her words, to try to undo just a bit of Rachel’s mischief… but the animal part of my brain had taken over, and I pushed aside such annoyingly responsible tasks for a later date. Gripping the base of my rock-hard shaft I maneuvered the drooling tip of my cock into position against her prepubescent slit and slowly, insistently pushed my hips forward. Nadia gasped loudly as she felt my tool nose apart the entryway to her inner glories, and almost as one we both glanced down to watch me enter her. Of course, her view was blocked by her stomach, but I had a perfect view of the action, and not for the first time I was struck at how big I was compared to her, of how my erection was almost as thick as her tiny little wrist. The first half-inch of my cockhead nosed inside of her before the size difference increased the difficulty, but I knew that it would fit with just a bit more effort and thus I pressed onward, pushing my hips forward as I slid my hand to her bony shoulder to keep her in place.
“Daddy… rape!” she gasped, her voice tinged with discomfort and her eyes snapping shut as she bared her teeth and hissed. “Daddy rape!” she repeated as she balled her tiny hands into fists and smacked the floor on either side of her hips as she willed herself to go limp, her knees toppling to either side as she gave herself over to me fully. “Daddy rape! Daddy rape! Daddy ra-uah-ah-aaaAAAAHHHHH!” Her words degenerated into a guttural animal cry of agony as her pussy stretched wide, wider, wider still to the point that I often felt like I was trying to shove my cock through a keyhole, but with a suddenness that always surprised me her entryway surrendered to the insistent pressure and I plunged two inches deep inside the tiny girl’s cunt. Nadia hissed and squirmed in discomfort as I continued pushing in, sliding my proportionally massive shaft deeper until I felt the tip bump up against her clenched cervix, filling her little girl pussy completely. “Duh-duh-daddy…” she stuttered as lay beneath me, helpless to stop her impalement even if she so desired.
“That’s right,” I growled softly as I leaned forward and planted a deep, passionate kiss on her gaping, gasping mouth. While I flicked my tongue against hers I slid my hands down to her wrist and pinned her arms above her head, a maneuver I was somewhat proud of considering that I had to arch my back to bring my face down to the same level of hers while simultaneously keeping myself lodged in her spasming tunnel. “Daddy fuck!”
“Daddy fah-AH!-ah-ah-fuck!” Nadia whimpered as I raised back up and slowly, carefully pulled out of her until only the head was still lodged inside of her straining cunt, and then just as firmly I slid back into her. She was so small that I could only get about six of my ten inches in but it was enough, and I could feel the sperm boiling in my swinging balls as I slid out and in again, out and in, picking up the tempo just a little bit as I impaled the helpless little girl. For her part the brunette surrendered to both her lust-filled desires and my strength, and her eyes half-rolled into the top of her skull as she flirted with the bottomless pit of her orgasm. “Ah!” she cried out every time I bumped the sealed entryway to her womb with the tip of my prick, and her entire body squirmed and shivered every time I pulled out for another thrust. “Ah! Ah! Ah ah ah ahahahahah haaaa….” With her surprising suddenness that had happened so often that I should have been used to it but wasn’t, she arched toppled over the edge and she climaxed, her entire body going stiff as she arched her back in her body’s subconscious attempt to take as much of me inside her as possible, her mouth thrown open in a silent scream of pure bliss as her pre-teen body welcomed what it was designed to take.
The sight of the prepubescent girl, pregnant with my child and helpless beneath my domineering form, was all it took as usual, and with a snarl that bordered on a howl of triumph I buried myself inside of the shivering brunette and emptied the contents of my balls into Nadia’s straining, fully-packed cunt. The undulating walls of her pussy gripped my cock like a silk-lined vice and helped to stroke the sperm out, inviting it up inside her. I arched my back again as the spurts ebbed into a dribble and fastened my lips upon hers once more, holding her bony wrists firm with a single hand as I slid my other hand down her bare, sweat-slicked arm to her chest, where I gave one stiff, hyper-sensitive nipple a tweak. The brunette relaxed beneath me, going limp with a moaning sigh of satisfaction in my mouth as she began to recover from her titanic orgasm. I stroked her a bit more, luxuriating in the sensation of her warm body and hot pussy and the sheer smell of her post-sex little girl scent, and a distant part of my logical mind knew that I had managed to drive away her feelings of inferiority for a short while.
A tiny little huffing noise drew my attention, and when I pulled myself away from Nadia’s slack lips and glanced to my left I could see Millie lost in the throes of her own lust, kneeling on the marbled tiles by the hot tub with a glazed look in her eyes and both hands pushed into the unlaced front of her boy shorts as she worried her pre-teen clit. “Sperma,” she mumbled as her eyes flicked down to my hips… or more specifically to the general area where my cock remained lodged in Nadia’s undersized pussy. “Sperma, sperma…”
I couldn’t help but chuckle, amused that her obsession for my seed had once again overcome any sort of self-control she might actually try to display. “Millie want?” I asked as I released my grip on Nadia’s wrists and raised myself up fully, a move that tore a weak whimpering gasp from the freshly-fucked brunette’s lips as my shaft shifted inside of her and pressed against the front wall of her pussy.
“Want sperma, Maykl,” she moaned in her sweet little-girl soprano voice. She shuffled forward on her knees and I had to hide a wince as I could only imagine what the rough concrete surface was doing to her knees. “Please…” she begged as she pulled on hand out of her shorts and stroked my hairless chest.
I glanced down at Nadia and took in her almost dazed look, and knew that she would be functionally out of it for at least the next few minutes if my past experience with her was of any indication, so I gave Millie a little smile of encouragement. “Of course,” I said indulgently as I pulled out of the stunned brunette. Nadia’s pussy made a truly vile-sounding wet burbling noise as I popped my cockhead free and a thick glob of my sperm splurted from deep inside her gaping slit, but any view I might have had was instantly blocked by the back of Millie’s head as she lunged in and gripped my sex-slimed rod with one tiny hand. With a whimper of happiness she lapped at my shaft, running her tiny tongue up and down the length as she cleaned me off. Within seconds she had removed any trace of my sperm and Nadia’s juices off my shrinking rod, and I moved out of the way as she dived between the stunned girl’s still-splayed legs to feast on the Mike-flow oozing from within her body.
“Mikey, please…” The whimpering falsetto plea for mercy drew my attention to Rachel. Determined to take her punishment like a big girl she remained seated, her hands gripping the arms of the chair so tightly that her knuckles were turning white and her backside squirming in discomfort as her gaze remained locked on Nadia. “Mikey, my cunny feels so itchy, please…” she whined, her desperate need apparent on her face.
“Have…” I cleared my throat to clear the thickness from it and fixed the pigtailed blonde with a stern gaze. “Have you learned your lesson?” I asked.
“Mikey, I’m so sorry, I won’t be bad again, I won’t teach her bad words, please…”
“Never again,” I insisted firmly. I gave her one last glower and then relaxed. “Okay, you can finger yourself.”
As I took a step to the side and Millie took my place between Nadia’s legs, Rachel almost seemed to go insane. Both of her hands flew from the chair arms and between her legs, which shot apart as if they were spring-loaded. With her left hand she yanked down the front of her pink panties while her right shot in, and she shivered and groaned a deep, guttural moan of passion as she began to work her clit. I settled back onto the edge of the hot tub and draped an arm around Paisley’s shoulders, letting the brunette lean against me as she rubbed her own pussy through her panties. All is right with the world, I thought with a small smile of satisfaction as I took a quick glance around and tried to get my pulse back under control.
Over in the wading pool the trio had instinctively fallen into their own preferred patterns of sexual desire – Lam’s tiny form was balanced on the edge with her legs thrown wide to allow Meg access to her pre-teen pussy, and if her gasps and moans were any indication the redhead’s talented tongue was doing its job as the Asian girl raced towards her climax. At the same time I could see the Marine’s tiny little-girl backside wriggling happily as Lilly used the fingers on her right hand on Meg’s clit while her left was pressed between her own thighs, a look of intense concentration on her flushed, exotic face as she gasped and moaned through her slightly-parted lips and labored to send both of them over the edge. Across from me Nadia had an almost glazed look in her eyes as she shivered and moaned weakly while Millie used her tongue to lap up as much of my excess seed from inside her pussy as possible while working her own slit, both lost in the throes of their own lust and oblivious to anything but the sensations coursing through their pre-teen bodies. On the chair Rachel tensed and mewled a gasping whimper of satisfaction as she managed to tear an orgasm from her own body, the patch of wetness in the crotch of her panties a testimony to her self-directed climax.
And nestled in the crook of my arm Paisley was teetering on the cusp as well, her fingertips a blur between her thighs as she gazed up at me with adoration gleaming in her eyes. I smiled softly and ducked my head down to fix her lips with a kiss… and that last sensation shoved her over the edge, and she moaned in my mouth as she stiffened and came. It was good and had ended almost exactly like most of our pool times ended, and beyond the physical satisfaction of fucking one of my girls I felt a warm sense of contentment. All is right, I repeated as I tasted Paisley and caressed her tongue with my own.
And a part of me believed it to be true…
“So… I guess they’re back.”
The five simple words uttered by Donnie caused my heart to sink, and I sighed a little bit as the bedroom seemed to get a little bit darker. Not literally, of course… the glow of the small desk lamp next to the shortwave radio was still shining merrily, casting its soft light over the desk at which I was sitting. It was more of an existential darkness, a tiny bit of weariness that seemed to wash over me as the implications of his – of our – conclusion sank into my conscious mind. “Yeah,” I replied morosely as I slouched down in my chair. “I think the whole hibernation thing was right, and now that Spring is here they’re out looking for a feast.” I didn’t want to acknowledge the truth… I don’t think that any of us wanted to admit it. But the evidence was there, and we had to face the reality of our situation.
The Feral were roaming the ruined landscape once more.
Through the window the sky was dark, as much from the minor little weather front that was moving through the region and bringing a bit of light rain in its wake as from the late hour. Saturday night’s howl had started off on a bit of a high note – in addition to Donnie up in Long Beach and Dickie out in Kentucky, we were joined by Doc Feldman down in… well, wherever the shadowy government bolt-hole in which he was lurking was actually located. Donnie kicked things off on a high note as he regaled us with a truly hilarious account of how his girls had discovered a treasure trove of hardcore fetish porn and spent the past three days trying to find outfits and makeup that would transform them from sweet little girls into Gothic pseudo-vampire princesses, each with a varying degree of success. Doc spent a few minutes doing his “How is the health of everyone?” interrogation, something we put up with mainly because of the terrific advice he provided.
And then Dickie brought us back down to earth when he informed us of the Feral he encountered while out hunting on Thursday. “I put an arrow through the fucker’s head before he even saw me,” he stated, “but he was there. I think they’re coming back.”
“I haven’t seen any, yet,” Donnie remarked. “But we’ve been hearing noises from Manhattan. I thought it was just wild animals, but now…”
“Just because you haven’t seen any yet doesn’t mean they aren’t out there,” Doc replied in an almost wise, sage-like tone.
“JE-sus,” drawled Dickie with just a hint of amusement in his voice, “enough with the existential crap already!”
“Yeah,” Donnie added, “how many foot-thick steel walls are between you and them anyway?”
“They’re not steel,” Doc corrected in a tone that made it apparent that he knew that we knew that he was avoiding giving us any information yet again. “They’re made of a polycarbonate substance…”
While the other three argued and bantered I took a moment to sidle on over to the window to take a quick look. The light fog and general murk made it hard to see but everything looked exactly as it did when I made my seven forty-five sweep a half hour ago – gloomy, sullen, and dank, with patches of slowly melting snow still hiding in the shadowy parts of the landscape. Beyond our make-shift fortifications and across the street the office complex was dark and silent, abandoned and totally devoid of any life that I could see. Beyond a few wet dribbles running down the window I couldn’t see anything moving outside, and with a grunt I turned back to the conversation…
… just in time to spot a tiny little black-haired beauty peering at me around the doorframe with wide, deep blue eyes.
“So what do you think, Mike?” asked Donnie.
I flashed Millie a tiny little smile and waved her in even as I thumbed the handset. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” I felt a stirring in my cock as the sexiest little morsel of my pre-teen harem waddled into the room. Somehow she had managed to escape the watchful hawk-eye of Paisley and slipped back to visit while I was Howling, her sexual need plainly visible on her face. Not for the first time I was glad that none of the other guys could hear a sound from my end unless I thumbed the handset, so in anticipation of what was to come I quickly added, “Hang on, I’ll be back in a second.”
“Make sure you have a towel handy, mah man,” Dickie snickered.
“Ya khochu poprobovat' tebya na vkus, Maykl”, Millie whispered in her musical little falsetto, a voice that made my cock throb in my pants as she took a step inside the bedroom and stroked herself while staring at the bulge in my jeans with an almost frightening hunger. “Pozhaluysta, dayte mne sosat' vash petukh!” she added in an almost dreamy tone. I could see that her eyes were wide and her face was flush, her features half-concealed by the curtain of her messy long black hair that hung free and cascaded over her shoulders. Her long pink cotton sleeping tee declared her to be DADDY’S LITTLE NYMPHO and almost seemed to flow down her body to her knees and framed her bulging, pregnant belly beautifully and filling me with a combination of fatherly love and predatory lust. “Pozhaluysta,” she whimpered as she licked her lips, “mozhet ya sosat’ vash petukh? Pozhaluysta, papa?”
I had heard enough Russian over the past few months to identify the words please, cock, and daddy in her request to know that her oral fixation had risen to intolerable levels once more and she was intent on having herself a little pre-bedtime snack of Mike-stuff – and who was I to deny her a chance to fulfill her deepest desires? I gave her a come-hither wave as I swiveled in my seat, and a brilliant smile of pure joy arced across her face as she practically skipped over to me and lowered herself to the floor. “Sosat’… khuy… rebenka,” I managed to choke out in my halting, nowhere-near-pronounced-right Russian as I unsnapped the button on my jeans. Millie almost moaned as she squirmed forward on her knees while I unzipped and allowed my stiff cock to spring free. “Sosat’ yego… Pit’ vse, kak good girl!” I added to let her know that she could have as much as she wanted.
While the other guys droned on about Donnie’s struggles on Long Island I settled back in my chair and enjoyed the attention Millie paid to my rock-hard tool. Leaning forward to wedge her narrow shoulders between my thighs, she brought one tiny hand up to grip the base of my shaft, her touch warm and soft as she brought her mouth to my cock. The head was far too big to fit into her tiny little mouth but she still gave it the old college try, opening her jaw as far as she could and growling a kittenish snarl of frustration as she only managed to wedge a half-inch of meat between her puffy lips. “Chert poberi,” she growled as she pulled her lips off with a little pop and brought her other hand up to my rod, “ya khochu, chtoby vy yebat’ moye gorlo!”
“English, Millie,” I said in a firm voice that was tempered by a small smile.
“Want… fuck… mouth!” she grumbled in annoyance, her pouting lips gleaming in the light of the room. “Want… choke… with cock!” she elaborated as she subconsciously began to pump my shaft.
“I know, sweetheart,” I replied sympathetically. It was a desire she had expressed more than once, an almost pathologic fantasy of me forcing my cock past her lips and all the way into her throat, and I’d be lying if I said that the idea didn’t have a sort-of sick appeal. But at the same time I knew that, super-transformed-healing powers or no, she was also way too small to actually survive something like that and thus I made damn sure that she didn’t push herself too hard. “But you’re too small…”
“Not small,” she whined defiantly as she increased the tempo of her pumps, falling back into her usual ploy of trying to distract me so that she could get what she wanted. “Big girl, having baby!”
“I know,” I agreed sympathetically as I tried to maintain my focus. “But we don’t want to hurt our baby now, do we?” She grumbled at my explanation but accepted it, and I gently stroked her hair for a moment before I cupped the back of her head and guided her lips back to my cock. Her desire to taste my jism won out over her frustrations and she returned to her task at hand, giving the tip of my tool a delicate little kiss before flicking out her tongue to lap at the head. “That’s it, baby,” I softly encouraged, “keep going, and you’ll get what you want.”
“Sdelayte eto,” she murmured in an almost dreamy voice as her hands became a blur on my shaft and she stared at my cockhead with something akin to hunger in her eyes. “Sdelayte eto! Pozhaluysta, Mayki, diplom na moyem litse, ona mne nuzhna!”
The combination of her pumping hands, her falsetto pleas ringing in my ears, the warm wetness of her tongue, and her delicate, doll-like features guaranteed that I wouldn’t last long, and as the Howl became a distant drone that was barely audible over the roaring of my pulse I stiffened and came. Millie squeaked in surprise and jerked back a few inches as my cock pulsed in her hand and splattered a long, sticky string of gleaming jism up her face and over her forehead to end up in her hair, but then pushed her head back forward as she threw open her mouth and stuck out her tongue. My second blast was heavier than the first and spattered over her forehead and eyebrows, while the third she managed to direct in the vague direction of her mouth. The fourth gummed up her right eye… The fifth squirted squarely into her mouth… The sixth painted her lower lip and chin, oozing down to dangle like an obscene ice cycle as a few drops dripped onto her nightshirt… I emptied what seemed like a gallon of my seed onto the appreciative girl’s face, and Millie shivered in pleasure as she used my shaft to help smear my issue across her flawless skin while whimpering in pleasure.
As both my breathing and my pulse began to slow I peered down at the sexy little brunette with a smile on my face. “Did you get what you wanted?” I asked in a light tone.
“Sperma,” she murmured dreamily as she slumped back on her heels and released her grip on my cock. Bringing her hands to her face she used her fingers to scoop the spunk gluing her eye shut and lapped it from her fingers, hungrily devouring her treat as she almost came right then and there. “Sperma, vash diplom vkus tak khorosho!”
“Anytime you want to do that,” I said softly, “all you have to do is ask.” I would have done more – caressed the side of her face, told her that I loved her, whatever – but experience had taught me that Millie would barely register my presence, let alone my actions, as she played with the sticky, musky object of her obsession spattered on her pre-teen form. “Okay, you just have fun,” I chuckled as I tucked my shrinking cock back into my jeans and turned my attention back to the Howl while she used both of her palms to smear my stuff over her face.
“Speaking of which,” Doc was stating as I worked to recover the thread of the conversation, “have you given any more thought to my proposal?”
I felt a momentary flash of annoyance cut through my sexual satisfaction, an emotion that was echoed by a long, low groan from Donnie and a snort from Dickie float over the airwaves as they echoed my feelings. “Doc, c’mon,” Dickie drawled, “do you know how impractical that idea of yours actually is?”
“I agree,” I interjected as I gently nudged Millie’s hip with a toe to move her out of the way, and the little brunette obliged me by crawling over to the bed. “It’s a fucking nightmare just to get to New York…”
“’N I don’t have anything that could help me get to Mike,” Dickie added, “and he’s closer!”
“Yes, all of that is true,” Doc replied patiently. “But it is something that we need to consider. After all, we are talking about the survival of the human species. Besides,” he added, “I suspect that the distance and danger involved in travel is not what’s truly bothering you.” He paused as all three of us were silent, and then he simply stated what I knew we were all thinking. “None of you like the idea of another man having sex with, and impregnating, one of your girls.”
“I… have to admit that it doesn’t thrill me,” Donnie remarked.
“Me neither,” Dickie admitted.
“Ditto.” My single-word response summed up the tempest of negativity roiling around in my soul. Deep down I knew that my distaste for the proposal stemmed from the alteration in me that the Event had forced, the alpha-male pack leader mentality that seemed to drive my every action. On the one hand I found the idea of fucking any of Donnie’s girls rather appealing, and my mind entertained a split-second fantasy in which his adorable Jin, sexy Jennifer, and spacey Gwen were bound and gagged, naked on my mattress and helpless to prevent my taking advantage of them – but on the other hand, just the thought of any other guy putting his hands on Lam or Meg or especially Paisley made me want to growl with rage.
“I know,” Doc admitted. “But if the human race is to survive we need to increase the population at a prodigious rate – and that is something that I think we might be able to do on our own, given the fertility of the girls,” he acknowledged. “But considering that, currently, there are a limited number of men out there to provide their genetic material, we run the risk of introducing genetic defects into subsequent generations.”
“He does have a point,” Donnie admitted.
“Yeah. That’s true.” I took a half-second to think and voiced another concern that we hall all expressed but had tried not to think too deeply about. “And all of our kids so far have been girls. I’m not exactly thrilled at the prospect of sleeping with one of my own daughters.”
“Me neither,” Dickie admitted. “I’d do it if I had to, but still…”
“We don’t know yet that that the only children to be born in the future will be girls,” Doc stated. “It might just be a statistical fluke, or maybe some genetic change that produces girls far more likely than boys. Mike still has another four children yet to be born, and Dickie has two more…”
“But can we take that risk?” I stated. “We four might be the only sane guys left on the planet…”
“Five,” corrected Doc. “There’s Luther.”
“Right, five,” I amended. “And that should be enough diversity to make sure that our great-great-grandkids aren’t born with two heads or something.” A tiny little sound flagged my attention, and I half-swiveled my chair to see Lilly sneak into the bedroom as well. The Latina was dressed in a filmy, lacy little nightie that was a hair too large on her but still did the job, and like Millie she had twisted her hair into a pair of jet-black pigtails to further her seduction techniques. She simpered a little bit as she struck an awkward pose but instantly her gaze flicked over to the Russian girl on the bed, and her gaze grew a bit jealous as she noted the fact that someone else had beaten her to me. I gave her a gentle smile as I waved her on over towards the bed and was grateful to note Malinka smiling as well, opening her arms to the too-late brunette by way of invitation. “And I think it’s gonna be a few years or something before our daughters are old enough to even start having kids,” I continued as Lilly clambered up onto the mattress and shared a somewhat spermy kiss with her fellow sex kitten.
“And we may have boys being born,” interjected Donnie. “That might help.”
“But won’t they go crazy cannibal on us?” asked Dickie.
“I don’t know,” admitted Doc, “but I doubt it. For some reason you guys didn’t turn, so naturally that would logically mean that your sons wouldn’t turn as well. But that doesn’t exactly deal with the whole diversity issue,” he continued. “Having only a single male bloodline in a population group is bound to cause some sort of anomalies.”
“Would our girls even want to sleep with another guy?” I pondered aloud. On the bed Lilly pulled back slightly from the reclining Millie and I could see strings of my jism running between their cheeks, but they only existed for a split second as the Latina darted back down and lapped at my issue coating the pregnant girl’s face. Millie giggled and twisted her hips so that Lilly could settle in next to her, and I watched a pair of tiny hands slide down the filmy negligee to cup the Latina’s tiny, firm asscheeks.
“Yeah, they would,” Dickie replied. “If we asked them to do it. They might not love it, but they’d do it.”
I thought about it and realized that he was right – any of my girls would comply if I asked them to sleep with another guy. Oh, some of them might whine about it (and Paisley would definitely have issues, given her self-appointed status as my wife), but at the end of the day they would do it, merely because I asked them to. I spared a glance back towards the pair on the bed and saw that Lilly’s nightie had ridden up over her bare backside and that her sprawled position gave me a perfect view of her tiny, hairless slit. “You’re right,” I acknowledged with a sigh as I felt a stirring in my cock even though I had cum less than three minutes before. I should really give her another week or two, I thought, but damn she looks fuckable! “I wish there was some way we could actually ask them what they wanted. As grown-ups, not kids,” I amended.
“Yeah,” Donnie barked in amusement. “Don’t think that’ll happen anytime soon. They’re gonna be little girls forever.”
“Well,” Doc said in a slow, cautious, measured voice, almost as if he were weighing just exactly how much of his knowledge to reveal. “I don’t necessarily know about that. There might be a way...”
